The GreenMount Chronicles Chapter 9 - Want
#12 of The Greenmount Chronicles
"Want"
Mace's parents were out for the day, so he and Rock decided to go to his place to hang out. It was a small house to be certain, and not always a happy place to live. But, like Rock's apartment, it suited their purposes just fine.
"Your brother ain't home, is he," Rock asked as Mace pushed open the screen door.
The tall tiger shook his head. "Nope," he said. "Went over some rich kid's house. One of his high school friends."
They walked into the living room, and were surrounded by stifling hot air. The carpet was tan, and sightly worn in the middle, and the furniture was cheap.
Rock pulled his shirt off immediztely as he walked in, baring the dark fur of his broad shoulders and chest. He threw the shirt onto the chair.
"It's fuckin' hot in here," the wolf complained. "Don't you guys ever turn on the air conditioner?"
"Not when the house is empty," Mace told him, as he flicked on a thermostat switch on the wall. The low drone of machinery rumbled to life behind the walls. "Happy?"
Rock let his hands rest at his sides, hooking his thumbs into the belt-loops of his pants, looking every bit the magazine model people made him out to be. His hips were tilted, and his abs were tensed, the dark line between then making a curvy trail down his body. A smirk was on his lupine muzzle.
Mace took a moment to admire him, smirking back. "Well," he said, feigning irritation, "What the fuck do you want then?"
The wolf raised an eyebrow. "I wanna put my tongue in your mouth," he said, matter-of-factly.
Neither of them felt awkward about bringing up their make-out session a few days ago. It had seemed the most natural thing in the world to them, and they were never the type to feel timid or apologetic about anything they enjoyed.
The tiger crossed the room in long strides, and, without raising his arms, he let the front of his body press against the wolf, his shirt-covered chest firmly touching the fur of Rock's pecs.
They stared into one another's eyes, and their noses touched, lips less than an inch apart. What they had done in the past to posture and intimidate one another was now a private game of seduction.
"You saying you wanna be my bitch," Mace asked him, little more than a whisper. He could feel the wolf breathing.
"Only if you'll be my pussy," Rock said, grinning. He then licked the tiger from the white fur of his chin to the pink tip of his nose in one slow, wet slurp. "Love you, pussy."
Mace stared evenly at him, aware that he could feel something else pressing against him now, on his waist, through his jeans. "Love you, too, bud," he whispered. "You wanna make out? We've been doing that a lot. Tongue wrestling's hot, but..."
Rock finished his sentence, "...but there's more. I know, bro."
"You can't call me that anymore."
The wolf tilted his head. "Why not?"
Mace grinned. "Because if I'm your brother, then this is incest."
Rock laughed and shoved Mace away with his large hands. "You fuckin' sicko."
They came together again, this time holding hands and lacing their fingers together, and they stood there for a moment, enjoying the closeness of it.
"What should we do then," Rock asked. "I mean... what do fags do with each other?"
Mace frowned, pulling his hands back. "Don't talk like that," he said. "We're not fags. We don't shave our balls and listen to opera and shit. We don't have to do what fags do. We do what _we_ wanna do."
Rock slid his forearms over Mace's big, round shoulders, dark wolven fur on the orange and black of the tiger. "Yeah," he said, approvingly. "I like that. We do what we wanna do. No rules."
Then he grabbed the front of Mace's jeans and grinned. "Wanna get naked?"
Mace began to pull his shirt up over his head, but Rock stopped him.
"Here, lemme do it."
Rock slid his hands under the shirt, the dark, smooth pads of his hands pressed to his friend's warm body. He peeled the shirt away from the tiger's muscular frame, letting his eyes take it all in, admiring the way the front of his body was coated in soft, milky white fur, which spilled down over the mounds of his pecs and his stomach.
Mace watched Rock looking at him. Many times in the past he'd let the little gay guys in his class look at him, but this was the first time that it ever really mattered to him who it was. He had never felt self-conscious before, never felt the need to trust someone else.
He let his gaze fall to the wolf's body as well. He noticed the trail of a small vein which ran down the round bicep on Rock's arm. Guys who worked out a lot tended to get these. He'd never noticed this before, and he wondered why. Or the way his navel was more of an oval, pulled tight by his hard abs.
They didn't speak during this time, but they communicated all they needed to: "We have changed clothes together, showered together, done so many things in shared company. But I have never looked-- never _really_ looked at you, taken in the beauty of your muscular form, forged in the hours we've spent together."
Of course, neither of them would have been able to articulate this in words, not being the eloquent type. But love and desire have a funny way of taking away the need for words.
Rock reached for his own jeans, and he slowly unbuttoned them, and pulled down down. He was wearing red flannel boxers, his favorite ones. A long, hard bulge was pressing out at them, pointing up and slightly to the right.
"Those are mine," Mace said, gesturing.
"Are they," Rock replied softly.
"Yeah," the tiger whispered, and he slid one finger into the waistband, and pulled it away from his body. Rock's cock, free of the confines of the fabric, stood straight up now, and the head poked well above the waistline. He let the elastic go, and his finger brushed against Rock's sheath, which was still covering the head. The wolf let out an almost inaudible gasp as this happened.
He slowly pulled his boxer shorts down, letting his sheath-covered cock poke out, the black shaft head poking out just slightly.
Mace did the same now, he pulled down his jeans and boxers in one motion, letting them fall to his ankles. The white fur from his chest and stomach ran down over his cock and the insides of his thighs as well. His manhood stood up as well, and he delicately pulled the sheath back, revealing several inches of pink, so Rock could see.
The two of them kicked away their clothes, and Rock lifted one foot at a time to pull off his white socks.
Now their eyes roamed again. It was an extremely sensual moment for them. They didn't touch, they simply gazed, hands at their sides, at one another from foot to eartip. Occasionally one of them would look to see if the other was still looking. Once when they did this, their eyes met, and they both chuckled a little.
Rock then spoke softly, "You're bigger than me."
Mace looked down. "I am?"
"Yeah dude. I never noticed it before."
"Huh."
One thing which never occurred to them was to do this in a private place. They were standing in the middle of the living room, with their clothes haphazardly tossed about. If Mace's parents had come home, there was no way they could have concealed what they were doing. There were open windows-- anyone walking close enough could have looked in and seen.
But the idea to do this in a room where no one could see never even entered their minds. They were simply too confident about their bodies, too foreign to shame or embarassment to care.
"Great abs," Rock said when their eyes met again.
Mace nodded. "I like your calves. You always trained hard on your legs."
"Do you... wanna touch? I mean..." he looked almost bashful, and for Rock this was a first. "I wanna feel your abs. And your chest."
Mace was about to make some sarcasic quip about feeling up his tits, but he held it back. It just seemed wrong.
Instead, he agreed. "We should touch, yeah."
And then hands were everywhere. Mace ran his palms over the wolf's biceps and shoulders, while Rock rested his hands on the tiger's stomach, feeling the intricate curves, then moving up to cup the fullness of his pecs. He let his finger circle around a pink nipple, which hardened in response.
Mace bent his knees, kneeling down before the wolf, and he slid his hands down Rock's legs, fingers curling around the large, firm calves.
"Damn," he muttered. "I gotta work more on mine." He squeezed one calf gently, while he rested his other hand on one huge wolf foot.
Then he moved up, to his thighs, admiring their thickness and power, and betwen the wolf's legs, to the member which was responding to all the attention. He stared at the cock, and Rock reached down, making a circle with his fingers and rolling the sheath back from the smooth black skin, his male scent escaping.
Mace watched this, and somehow this was the most intimate undressing for them, exposing their maleness.
The tiger stood, and they gazed into one another's eyes again, now much more aware of their bodies, of each other's bodies. Mace's hands held the wolf's waist, and Rock was still caressing his friend's chest.
"I never touched a guy's dick before," Mace whispered.
"Me neither," Rock told him.
They kissed then, lips touching tenderly.
Mace reached out and cupped the big, thick wolf cock in his palm, feeling the weight, the firmness of another male for the first time in his life. He curled his fingers around it, and Rock broke the kiss, breathing out shakily.
"How is it?" he whispered. Their eyes were closed, foreheads together.
"Warm," Mace breathed. "Smooth."
They opened their eyes.
"Big," Mace finished, grinning.
"Mmmmmm," Rock moaned as Mace squeezed it. "Warm, smooth and big... that's how it feels with I jerk it off."
"Like this?" Mace murmured, and he began to tug on it, pulling the sheath up and down over the head.
Rock closed his eyes for a moment, opening his mouth wide and letting out a loud moan. His knees buckled slightly and he held one of his friend's shoulders for support.
"Ohhhh... that feels good," he muttered. His hand found the tiger's cock, and with no hesitation he began to stroke it likewise, feeling the downy fur of the sheath, pulling up and down slowly, the warm pads of his hand gliding over the smooth shaft inside.
Now it was Mace's turn to moan aloud, and they shared this pleasure, this mutual rhythm with one another as they stood together.
Mace watched how the meat of Rock's shaft filled up his hand, black skin on pink pads, and how the wolf's abs tensed with each stroke, even how his toes flexed and curled in the carpet. He had such big feet, why had he never noticed these things before?
And then their eyes locked, and they began to kiss again, more urgently. Rock slid his tongue into Mace's mouth, over his own, as they'd done many times before. It had always been a sexual feeling, but now it was accompanied directly by pleasure, by the intense, delicious stroking of their cocks.
Mace was sucking gently on Rock's tongue, taking it into himself, while he was sliding his hand up and down the hard pole, and he felt it leaking precum from the tip, warm and wet under his fingers. This only helped to lubricate the friction, and he increased his pace.
Rock pulled back for a moment, away from the kiss, and away from jerking him off. He lifted his hand to his muzzle and have it a long, slow lick with his big tongue. Then he grabbed Mace's naked cock. The tiger moaned now, leaning against him, and they started again, with more intensity now.
Mace was getting close, and he had been so turned on by what Rock had done-- partly because now his hand was slippery, but also because of how physical it was; he had licked the hand which had been all over Mace's cock, and had put it right back on. It was almost like he'd licked the cock itself...
And as he thought about this, he went over the edge.
Hot, liquid pleasure erupted from his balls, rushing up the base of his shaft, and firing out the tip. Muscles gripped inside him, between his legs, way down deep the way they do during a really good orgasm, tensing again and again, as Rock squeezed and tugged on the shaft faster, and they kissed deeply, completely. He spurted out his seed in so many quick bursts, splattering over Rock's powerful arm and stomach.
The wolf reached his climax shortly after, shooting cum out in long, white ropes all over Mace's hand, while he moaned and thrust his hips, animalistic, lost in pleasure, in need.
And then, spontaneously they both let go of each other and hugged tight, hips grinding against hips, each with his manhood trapped between their writhing bodies. They held tight, kissing passionately in their embrace as they felt the remains of their shared climax, muscled bodies, wrapped together. At some point they knelt on the floor together, still holding tight.
Finally it ebbed away, and they gently pulled out of the kiss. They looked at one another, hands caressing facefur and hair and ears.
Mace eased back, sitting on his heels. The fur under his chest was matted with cum, as was Rock's, and he laughed a little at this.
"That was fucking unbelievable," Mace said.
Rock nodded. "Yeah, man. I been with girls before, and it feels good, but... I needed this. This is different."
Mace grinned. "That's 'cause we're real close and shit. You dig my muscles all, just like I do yours."
Rock smirked. "Hey, I'm built, too. Fuck your muscles."
The tiger raised an eyebrow. "We could try that." He brought his arms together in front of him, flexing his chest. "You could fit your dick right in here," he said, "right between my pecs."
They laughed at this, and then they were quiet.
"I wanna do this again," the wolf said, all humor aside. "A lot."
Mace nodded. "All the time. And we got all summer. Whenever we're together, for making out, football, jerking off, drinking and partying."
They stood up then, and Rock stepped close to him. "I love you, bro," he said softly.
"I love you too."
And thus began their relationship.
Their story isn't over.