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I sat back and reflected on the past week; and as to commemorate the most joyous of occasions, I felt a gift was in order. It would be nothing special; a black velvet trousseau of exceptional quality. I made sure it was the highest standard I could find. It took a considerable amount of time to track down, but I managed to locate the perfect one. And it was beautiful; an exquisitely made piece for an equally, if not more so, exquisite fox. What is more, I hoped that the subtle implication of this choker would not be lost on Alex. I had hoped that he would know what it meant, and that I was sincere in my aim of helping him to come out, should he still want to. I rather hoped that he did, but I stand by my claim to respect whatever decision he chooses. I waited until Sunday night to give him this rather modest present. He had bestowed many lavish presents upon me, and I hoped that my simple gesture of love could match the devotion and pride he had for my tastes and comfort.

As had become commonplace, at six o'clock every Sunday, Alex would drive up to my house and ring the doorbell to summon me, as it were, to shove off. Today was no exception; Alex would come (as he and I enjoyed immensely) to call. However, this was a special occasion. I had asked my father to borrow his Porsche. I love big cars, but tonight, it was a warm lovely evening, I figured that we could put the top down and drive into the night close together and warm from each other once the sun sets.

Naturally, I had to clean the car first. A task my father seldom does. He takes care of it, to an extent, but I had always noticed imperfections. After a significant length of time cleaning the brake dust off of the wheels, I heard the clock chime five from inside. I have lost track of time, and will need an hour at least to finish and take a shower.

Ten or fifteen more minutes of wheels, and I worried about a shower quick enough to wipe the grime off my fur, and the sawdust from the garage floor out of my tail. I have almost been practicing, though it has become easier to do subconsciously, to twirl my tail. I have even vowed to let the fur grow a little longer than I am used to, but in their weird interim state of being too long, and yet not long enough, I am always tempted to cut it again.

Anyway, I put away the cleaning supplies, a first for me, and went up to take a shower. I knew exactly what I planned on wearing so I would pull it out while the water was warming so I didn't keep Alex waiting. He would probably let himself in and wait in the parlor if I took too long anyway. I hopped into the shower and lathered up doing a good enough job not to smell, but having had one this morning, I didn't have to clean all the way to the roots. It felt good with the warm water against my ears, but with my fur growing longer to get that sexy vixen-in-the-commercials look, I had to spend longer drying it. The one downside of looking sexy was having to take care of yourself. Such an annoyance. I often wondered how Alex did it without ever complaining, and his tail was not only bigger, but the fur was longer and was even finer. A little over a half hour later, I dressed quickly, and grabbed a jewelry box off my bureau.

I bounded down the stairs, and looked right, across the hall into the study, where to my surprise, the pocket doors were open, and Alex was sitting on the overstuffed white sofa reading one of dad's pretentious books. (He leaves profound books on the table so as to impress those that come over). He was not facing me, which allowed me to come up from behind and begin petting his ears. He had known from be bounding down the stairs that I was coming, but had feigned annoyance to me being late. He did not oppose me stroking his ears however. I was only ten minutes late anyway. If more than seven minutes is unfashionably late, then at least I was fashionable â€" a line I would surely use so as to break the silence.

"You don't need civet oil, you know." He said while still reading Baudelaire, one of the books I had put on dad's table for the same purpose. He leaned back and looked into my eyes and I supported myself on either side of his head. "I already lust for you."

"I have actually come to enjoy the smell." I was only slightly embarrassed that he knew the scent, though, having been in my bathroom he had probably seen the bottle. In all likelihood, he probably knew about it long before I did.

"Not as much as I have."

"Thank you. By the way, how did your father feel about the state his Cadillac was returned in?" I figured dried semen and pond water would have been noticeable.

"He was really upset when he realized that the carpet had been professionally washed." He had obviously cleaned the car to impress his dad and get enough trust to borrow it again. "So where are the parents tonight, he said as he reached up with his left arm and began to rub from my cheek down to my neck with the backside of his hand. He let it trail a little lower to the button of my shirt and his claw began feverishly to unbutton it before I grabbed his hand and instead brought it close to my heart.

"Out. And don't get any ideas." He gave me one of those sad faces. I was ready to cave when I recalled how much time I had put into the Porsche. "We are going out tonight. But I get to drive." I had driven Victoria. It was not as hard as I expected, but there were some definite problems that I would quickly address.

"I thought you hated my car."

"No. I love your car, despite the problems, but with daddy not here, I get his." And I fleshed the keys and a smile. I, of course had asked to borrow it, but the situation merited me acting like I was a scofflaw. "And oh," I said as I walked into the hallway to the table next to the staircase, "I have a present for you."

His ears perked. I could tell that he was interested. He enjoyed getting gifts, but he took greater joy in the implications that occurred from them. I knew that I was going to be scrutinized for my choice of gift, but I felt that it would be appropriate. I picked up the parcel and held it out extended towards him. He got up from the couch, which is no easy task. It is very comfortable. And took a few steps before he stopped to look at it and at me.

I kept a straight face. I knew that I took a huge chance with this gift. It would definitively settle some of the unanswered questions in our relationship. I hoped that he would not think me to be domineering, or in expecting him to wear it always. I just felt that it would be a way for him to feel more comfortable coming to terms with his sexuality. Selfishly, I hoped that this would also encourage him to come out to his parents, if not the other furs at school in a manner that was not so in your face, but implied, as I knew he would appreciate.

He took the box from my hand, and held it like a fox-kit on Christmas. But he was not shaking it to see what was inside; he was reveling in the moment. I also felt a twinge of superiority; I could tell he was unexpecting. He shed the bow, but held it to place it in his pocket along with the wrapping paper. Even wrapped, it was obviously a jewelry box, and most likely a necklace because of the long thinness of it. If there was any hesitation in his opening it at all, I didn't notice. I was hinging on the opening of it.

He slid his thumb claw under the lip and pulled on the clap. The top unlatched, and he delicately opened the box. My heart was racing, and it all culminated the second his jaw dropped and his eyes opened wide. His teeth, should I have neglected to mention, were questionably sharp, and cream colored. He had suffered through years of braces, and numerous dentist's visits. He had confided in me that he did not like his teeth at all. But from my view, they served the purpose of contrast: from awe to extreme happiness, I watched through his teeth the delight upon recognition of the trousseau.

"I hope you like it."

He struggled to find the right words, but settled on a reserved, "Yes." Almost at a whisper, he delicately but deliberately moved toward the mirror above the vanity alongside the staircase. He placed the box on the table, and stood looking the mirror, not looking at himself with the choker on, but just at himself, holding it. He was wearing a dark red shirt. It was almost black, and yet, complemented his fur like one wouldn't expect of two different shades of red. He still stood, but turned his head towards me. I had not moved since, and I took this gesture as an incentive to move towards him. He presented he arm, choker hanging from his palm. I didn't even take it as an insult that he was giving it back to me, I took it from him and placed it around his neck, holding it from the back so he could admire it. It suited him as I expected it to; wonderfully. His shirt was unbuttoned more with the coming of the warm and the dark shirt with the black velvet choker seemed to accentuate the brilliant white that was his chest and neck.

I fastened it so that he had enough room to breathe, but tight enough that it held fast to the contours of his neck and would not move. He stood for another moment, before he turned around, embarrassedly, and looked at me critically. "I'm nothing without you." I reached forward and kissed him gently, and he threw his head back out of passion, exposing the newly fitted choker.

"Nor I without you. And now, everyone will know that too.

"You are just as much a part of me as myself. I could never be prouder to be yours." The special emphasis meant that he knew, as I expected he would. We stood there a few minutes more, before he broke the silence once more, "well, can we venture out into the world where we can be seen and envied for our happiness, youth, and love?"

"You just want everyone to look at you. What was it that Carly Simon said?" I was particularly proud at this reference.

"Baby, You're the Best." Alex said quickly. Not what I had anticipated at all, but completely appropriate and very him.

"Oh," as we were walking out the door, don't think that I am going to be shown up by this, I have a present for you in the car. It may not be as classy, but it is hot. I have been waiting to give it to you for some time, and I feel that this is just as good a time as any." Arrrrg, I was foiled by his preparedness. I had a feeling that it was something clever. "Start the car. The thing is in the trunk." I did as I was told, and as I sat in the driver's seat, I watched Alex bring out a rather large shoe box wrapped in gold lame. I had a gut feeling that this was going to be a gag. Not literally, but that might be a thought for the future. He handed me the package as we sat idling. With less skill than Alex in opening the package, I opened the lid to find another box and a print out direction sheet. It was obviously made by him and not store bought. Nevertheless, I furrowed my brow and shot him an interesting look. He was completely serious, but his eyes hid a smile. I picked u the directions, and started laughing to the point where I threw the box and we stalled out.

There was a check mark next to the first step, ‘Cut a hole in a box.'

"Oh, my goodness. Step two, put your junk in the box. Step three, have Alex open the box." I was beside myself with hysterics while Alex just smiled.

"It is actually the best thing I could ever give you."

"And why is that?" still laughing.

"Because I get some use out of it as well. Don't you have another present for me?" and smiled gesturing to my pants.

"Yes actually, I think I left it inside." I got out of the car and began to walk with some difficulty into the garage where I managed to fit myself into the box with the hole in it. Had I been flaccid, the fit would have been fine, but I was having some difficulty getting the top to stay sealed. Nothing a little string won't solve.

Now I was faced with an unusual question; walk back to the car with my pants half zipped, or get naked. If one was just as good as the other, I figured that clothes were optional. I got completely naked, glad that I had taken enough time to dry completely, and proceeded to walk out to the car holding a box containing my painfully obvious erection. As I walked down the driveway, I almost didn't care that I was naked and that should anyone see me, they would easily figure out what I was doing.

"Oh, Alex! Don't you want to come in for your present?"

His eyes were wide as he sat in the car for a moment, shocked at my newfound confidence. "Absolutely." And boy was he out of the car quickly. His tail stuck straight out behind him as he raced towards the door and I back into the house.

I ran up the staircase towards my bedroom only slightly annoyed that I was breaking a promise not to have sex in the house. I could hear Alex stripping through the hallway. I made it into my room where I sat against my headboard with my legs spread and a box in between them.

Alex ran in wearing nothing but a fashionably and suggestively alluring choker. He was aroused, as I could smell, and his tail was puffed out. I had asked him about his tail once before, and he claimed that it seems to get bigger and the hair will stand on end when he is erect. Not that it needed to be any bigger, it was probably just as big as he was should it be measured. But how I enjoyed playing with that tail. It filled the door frame. Alex stood there to value the situation before he made the decision we both wanted. He lunged at me, and proceeded to smother me with his tail, as he knew I liked. As he sat cross-legged before his present, his tail touched my face and chest while he pondered how to most suggestively open the box. He settled for his teeth. I was not aversed to this idea at all. Teeth and mouth are close enough so as to get a good understanding as to what would come next.

He and I were drooling, but for different reasons. We were both aroused, but I drooled over the smell of his tail. He drooled as he tried to rip the twine from the box. Not surprisingly, he managed to cut through, and the lid popped open on its, or rather my, own accord.

"Hmmmm, what could this be? Why, it is a thick pulsing penis. My favorite! I particularly like this one. How did you know?"

"He was teasing, naturally, but the thought of him lusting after me was appealing. He picked up my penis from the box as if it were glass securing it from damage, but caressing it all the same to feel the smooth texture. I was in a state of bliss; a puddle propped up by my headboard as Alex's tail wafted over my chest. He had sidled up beside me and with his left hand still grasping the base of my penis and massaging my balls, used his right hand to abruptly grab the base of my tail and lift me in the air. I will admit that it did hurt, and I was definitely not expecting it, but he merely flipped me so that my feet were at the headboard and my head flat against the mattress and bedspread.

It would not have terribly difficult to overpower Alex, but I was in no state to think straight. I let his claws dig into my wrists as he held me down. I was not going anywhere, but the thought of him being the dominant one bay have seemed appealing; or at least more appropriate, as he was larger than I. Regardless, I digress. He began to lick from almost my knees to my testicles. His tongue seemed almost too long for his snout, but I can say from experience, its length could not have put to better use.

He did enjoy licking me, which I did not think that I would ever become a fan of, but it is relaxing. At the very least, it provided me with the ability, however brief, to smell like him. He continued to lick ravenously, which I attribute to the oil, until I was shaking. The delicate tracing of my fur against the grain was causing my skin to tense and relax uncontrollably. I have no evidence to suggest that skin stimulation can increase an orgasm, but you have to take me at my word.

Out of respect for me, he focused more of his licking toward my lower abdomen and on my balls, annoyingly close to but not actually touching my shaft. In return, I used my toe claws to gently trace his calves and thighs as he continued to lick in his kneeling position. With my free hands, I rubbed his ears, as I had said, a favorite of his. Every so often, I would drift off and fall prey to a sleeplike trance. The longer I lingered in this dreamlike state, the more guilty I felt for wanting to be in a state of bliss without him.

He had stopped his licking. My body felt cool after being licked , but my erection remained hot and dry. He seemed to be better at reading my mind, for he leaned closer to my penis and enveloped his tongue around my penis and took it all into his maw. Now again, I have no empirical proof, but I have seen many ejaculations from excessive head-bobbing-blowjobs. Alex's were different. He did not so much bob as he used his tongue to squeeze my penis in his mouth without ever removing it. I liked the way I fit into him. I assume that he did too, for he never gagged or choked. These blowjobs were interesting, in the sense that I would objectively measure with my sensitive skin the levels of saliva pooling in his mouth, as though working overtime to help digest a large piece of food. As Alex's mouth filled, he would swallow the spit, and in the process, use the rippling effect of his tongue to press rather hard on my urethra. On the whole, an enjoyable experience, indescribable in sensation, but not overtly raunchy for the watcher. I would assume that most pornos do not show this variation on a blowjob because it is a more graceful than violent motion.

It is slow, I concede. But being emerged in his mouth for so long, my penis has internalized some of the saliva, as though a natural coating of his spit was normally secreted my penis. Keep in mind that I am still on the bed flat, and Alex is kneeling over me. Or rather was. I am yanked again from my wonderful dreamland, as I recognize air against my penis, strangely sharper than Alex's mouth. If only I would get that warm, soft flesh to envelope my cock again. Strangely, enough, Alex's shifting in seating grants me my wish, although replacing his mouth with his bottom. It works for me. I slowly move into his tight passage, lubed from his saliva until I feel content with the length of my penis into Alex. I have hilted him before, but it feels so violent. I much prefer slow, melodic, and uninterrupted gyrations of his hips that to have to violently grind my balls into his ring. Again, not much to look at in a porno, but more enjoyable.

Despite the heavy and labored breathing patterns emanating from my room, I am content. My heart is racing, I am starting to sweat, my mouth is dry, there is a haze above my eyes, red fur is flying everywhere, and the tip of my penis is throbbing uncontrollably within the rectum of a fox which clamps down upon my while I bury my face in his chest. And yet, I am so blissfully unaware. At any given moment, I feel as though if I stir my senses the whole world would come crashing down upon me, forcing my ejaculation in a feat of indescribable throbbing pleasure. But as I lie, content on my back, I only recognize that someone is close to me. I have an urge to open my eyes and look at who this person is, but I know that if I do, I will not be able to control myself.

I have to, but I refuse to. My brain is racing with this decision, and I have to open my eyes and look upon my lover. And as I do, I am a newly foaled kit looking into the eyes of the most trusting person in the world. I trust this person, and I am this person as I arch my back and expose my most vulnerable body to him. I come.

The frozen hours melt out through the nervous system and seep out the pores, as my semen had more violently demonstrated from my shaft. I am tired, and I feel guilty. But I cannot move. I do not want to do anything of the kind.

Alex has not actually moved either. He is still laying on top of me. In the moment, I had gabbed on to his tail and had not let go. If I let go, he will move. So I drag it across his back in long sweeping movements. He smiles, a sure victory as far as I am concerned.

"Oh, Matt. You are a sweaty disgusting mess. And look at your sexually suggestive position. Why do I associate myself with you? Second time I see you like this too." I was at a loss. But I laughed. In written words, you cannot appreciate how truly ‘Alex' that statement was. His countenance was happy and spry as though he had enjoyed himself just as much as I had, if that were at all possible.

"You associate with me?" feigning surprise. "I am the one that should be asking you that question. Just look at yourself; naked, equally sweaty, and you have a considerable amount of semen leaking from the base of your tail. Deplorable. And another thin-" I couldn't finish. It was just too hard to act annoyed when the situation was so obviously ridiculous. We were both disgusting and much to the chagrin of our prim natures, it was our sexual natures not to be. "I guess I will make the first attempt at cleaning up the mess." I said as I rather violently pushed Alex off of my chest, but leaned forward myself so now he was on his back and I on top. I was pinning him down as I slid out of his tail hole. "Semen stains, you know. I better get it off your fur, as I leaned down and began licking my own come off of his rear and the stray rivers of it on his thighs and tail.

It was Alex's turn to moan and lean back into my pillows. He laughed, as I expected him to, and I could feel his tail puffing out as it tickled by ass and intertwined with my own tail. "I wish I could think of something witty to say, but fuck it! This feels great!" I munched him mildly for using coarse language.

"You know, it would be so much easier to clean you up if you weren't leaking come all over the areas I had lust cleaned" having moved up his lig to his balls and the length of his penis.

"Sorry. You know how it is."

"The only way to do this right is to suck the come from the source until it stops. Wouldn't you agree?"

"A definite possibility. Although, oil is pumped for considerable lengths of time and over the course of years. You might have to keep doing this for a while."

"I don't mind. I have the right equipment to suck from the depths a most magical substance." In retrospect, this was the most ludicrous running conversation ever, but we were two hot blooded sex fiends caught up in a sexually charged situation wanting to restrain from outright slamfucking each other. Permit me then in lieu of the more commonplace sobriquet of a ‘hot-blowjob' to describes the allusion of sucking oil out of the ground with his eruption of semen into my mouth. The two events being happiness out of intense pressure for all involved, so the allusion, as ridiculous as it was at the time fit.

My licking rapidly became pointless, as Alex began caressing my shaft again. My forehead had an interesting array of globs and trails of semen, and I could feel the pressure of the semen rushing from my cock hitting his finger tips and splattering like a fire hose against a brick wall, drenching me and most of him, as I was still hovering over him, with enough semen to glue us together.

"So," Alex said, "what's on for tonight?"

"Well, lets see; we have sex, go out for a while, come back, have sex again (assuming that you are up to it...)

"A definite possibility..."

"And then I figure you could spend the night and we could head to school tomorrow."

"If I am not allowed to go home..."

"You are, if you want." I said, without feeling the slightest bit rejected.

"Restated: Since I don't want to go home, can I borrow some clothes for Monday?"

"You think you can get into my pants?" I said with little realization.

"I would bet on it." He said with confidence. His eyes were strangely bright, as though I were seeing him for the first time again. Naturally, I fell for him all over again. "Without interrupting your thoughts, and your raging erection, can I possibly describe how happy I am to have you?"

"You don't need to. I understand the feeling and have trouble putting it into words good enough to describe how absolutely perfect you are." And we kissed. And as we lay, the semen hardened to join us together forming one being, capable of one thought only. Alex's circling tail ceased to move, and floated down upon my back forming a blanket of warmth, as I was for him.