Rain
Yay! A fully consensual blowjob!
The otter was getting impatient. The bear could tell. Mainly from the way his head was resting on his right fist, while his left fingers tapped the dashboard. Which was strange for the bear, because he'd never really been in a situation where somebody else had been impatient to sleep with him. Just as he considered saying something, like actually finding out the otter's name, his lutrine passenger let out a permeating sigh of boredom.
Was he sobering up? Already? Although, truth be told, he didn't seem that drunk at the bar to begin with. Then again the extent of their interaction before heading for the bear's car had been, "I want you to fuck me. How 'bout it Teddy?" So the bear had scooped up the comparatively little otter and carried him to his ford focus, kicked the car into reverse and headed out.
At least, that was how the bear would have liked to remember their exchange. The first part at least was true, however that was then followed by an protracted session of:
"No seriously?
"Yes! Just fuck me already!" With the otter then leading the bear sheepily out into the car park to find his car.
It wasn't a long ride. Ten minutes tops. Still from the otter's demeanour the bear was now legitimately afraid that the otter's next words would be, "Take me home."
Instead they were, "No roommate?"
Did he think the bear was a college student?
"No." He answered.
"Good." And then he leaned across his seat until he and the bear were nose to little black nose, "Then I can be as loud as I want." His muzzle fastened determinately around the bear's own and a slick, slightly fishy tongue, started to probe the part in his lips. Long whiskers tickled the bear's nose, but that was easily ignored with a moist warm tongue probing the roof of your mouth and colliding with your own tongue.
The were both breathing hard and the bear was painfully aware of the tent in his pants. The otter had one too. He really did need to get round to finding out his wonderful creatures name.Tragically, the kiss ended.
"Let's go." said the otter. The bear offered a flustered nod in response. The otter was already out of the car and halfway to the door before the bear remembered that his legs needed blood too and got shakily out of the care and locked it. They reached the door together, the otter standing with his hands behind his back and smiling sweetly like a school child waiting patiently for his cookie reward from doing so well in school today. One would hardly think such an innocent face was contemplating the most base and debaucherous entertainment for the evening.
The bear fumbled his keys. Twice. Because of course he did. Sod's Law dictates that when you want to escape the serial killer, or just get into your house as quickly as possible, your fingers will become arthritic and you will loose all hand eye coordination. Eventually, mercifully, he managed to jam the key in and turn the lock. He tried to be a gentleman. He tried to open the door and hold it for his guest. But the otter was determined he play the leech. As soon as a crack appeared the otter pressed in for another kiss.
For a moment it seemed that the otter was leading them both inside, so again the bear followed. Then the otter changed direction, and they were both up against the wall, their lips never once parting. It was a kind of game.
Will you be able to guide us both to the bedroom with our faces locked? Tick, tock Teddy.
The bear could feel vibrations from the otter's giggles. Fortunately the bedroom wasn't far from the front door. Fortunately the bear also had enough height and weight over the otter to easily lift him off the floor over his shoulders and carry him there.
"Unhand me you cad!" Wow. Apparently playing the fiend agreed with him, because the bears cock just perked up and did a little spin. Hyperbolically speaking, of course. Apparently the otter also liked played the damsel in distress, as the resistance he put when he was flung onto the mattress and the bear began delicately tugging his board shorts and top off, was somewhere close to nil.
The smaller of the partners was actually squealing with delight as he was unwrapped. No protests, just a hungry kind of anticipation. And when the bear had finished his subversive work there he was, sitting on his knees staring up at 200 pounds of still clothed bear, erection unabashedly pointed. And that look. Gawd the bear was panting just seeing it. Never mind the lithe and taut body. That cute and playful innocent look, punctuated by the occasional soft squeak was the most fucking adorable thing ever conceived. Forget the one night stand! Show me the papers I need to sign to adopt this motherfucking cutie!
The otter had other motivation. There was a flick of a button and a zip, and then soft webbed paws were sliding up and down the bears cock. Clearly otter boy had done this before, and damn if the bear was going to stop him. What the bear did do was take off his shirt, while his associate in tonights dealings slid his jeans and then boxer shorts all the way to the floor. Then the bear was on top, gently collapsing down, eliciting a playful, 'Arh' and nuzzling russet brown otter neck.
The bear wasn't crushing him but he was enjoying the feeling of the otter writhing around beneath him, helpless to escape ursine embrace. The writhing peaked as the bears arm slide down to grab a pawful of shameless otter penis. Oh my word! That was interesting. It was long, it was thin, it was curved and it had a kind of mushroom head. Most pleasantly it thrummed and pulsed softly in the bears pawpads and got its owner to unleashed the most exciting little squeaks as it was stroked and squeezed. It was also discerningly rigid. Such a strange shape, and yet so very consistent with the long firm body of its owner.
"Wait!" Cried the otter. The bear did, though he was loathed to do it. The otter attempted to roll the bear aside, and the bear let him. Now it was otter on top and bear on the bottom. He could still stroke the otter's erection from there, so it was tolerable. There was another kiss, softer this time, and then the otters muzzle nuzzled and planted little dry kisses down the bears check and neck. Otter whiskers tickled all the way down the bears chest and ample, but firm, stomach before slipping between his upraised knees. Reluctantly the bear had to relinquish his grasp on the otter's member as those whiskers immigrated down to his crotch.
One lick, starting at the bears sack, but soon travelling all the way up the underside of his shaft. Then the bear's dick was pleasantly enveloped in warm wet, gently pulsing otter muzzle. Ah yes. This was the life. The bear folded his arms behind his head and smiled to indicate it so.
The otter in turn smiled at the bear, two curved edges with the shaft of his cock in between.
It's always nice to know you were appreciated. Though if I were to move my head like this he would probably appreciate me a whole lot more. There we go. Poetry. That sounds like the moans of someone really enjoying my company.
A few short minutes later, with a low snarl and a half thrust, the bear indicated just how much he appreciated the otter's muzzle by cumming in it. A lot.
"Mmm." The otter pulled himself off with wet flop. "Feel better?" The bear nodded, then gave a look like he'd just been given a very difficult math problem when the otter liked a stray drop of white from his whisker.
"Still hard though?" the otter continued, never once stopping his paw moving slowly up and down the bears length. Which was _indeed_still hard. "Good." The otter decreed. "You got lube?"
The bear did. Fumbling around in the draw of the bedside dresser for half a minute proved it so. The otter held out his paw expectantly, received the small clear bottle in question, and it was with mild surprise that the bear witnessed the otter take a pawful and began to lather up his own passage and the bear's member.
Clearly, otter boy had done this before too. He'd have to, to be that bold. The bear may have been six inches in length but he was also thick. The otter put a foot either side of the bear's torso, and used ursine knees to hold himself up in a squat. Then, slowly, he lowered himself down. In for a penny in for a pound.
Watching that lithe body sink closer and closer kept the bear nice and pointy for him. The otter even had good enough aim that he didn't need hands to guide him in. And oh, what a wonderful feeling as the first few centimeters slipped past and into that lithe supple body. Now the bear could be the cause of those squeaks and moans and didn't that just add a hole layer to the whole base affair. The bear couldn't stand it. He reach forward with a monster paw and laid it on the otter's elongated torso. Most of the otter's fur was brown but the underside of his muzzle, chest, stomach, inner thigh, sheath and balls were all a rich cream. The bear presumed that the cream fur traced all the way down to the base of his tail but, due to the angle, he couldn't know for sure. Might be time to confirm that latter. For now, he directed his gaze and grasp downward and clasped the otter's member. More squeaks. The otter stopped moving, his knees gently quivering.
"You alright?" asked the bear.
"Mm." the otter smiled weakly. "Just... give me a moment."
So the otter remained suspended three inches above the bears stomach, already three inches in, while the bear lightly stroked. But, ya know. What goes up must come down. And the otter's erection was way up, so his ass had to come down- God that was awful. The remaining three inches went by in one smooth fluid motion. Balls and sheath rubbed pleasantly against the bears gut after planting his rear on his bear-crotch seat. Then he was bouncing. He was actually bouncing on the bears dick!
Those wiry legs were like springs, unwinding and coiling- no more like pistons! And that wonderfully long erection flagged up and down with his jumps, and squeaks. How could he even stand being that cute!
Apparently he couldn't. Because at that point the otter went for a change of position. He removed his hands from the bear's knees and placed them together on the bed behind him, arching his back and managed to take the bear just that little bit deeper. More moans, and now the bouncing became less frantic, less urgent. Surprising at first, but from the change in pitch of the moans and the way the bear felt the otter's cock pulsing he could sort of see why. He was close as well, but while the bear's response to this was to attempt to roll his hips forward in a mad dash to the finish, the otter's method was more deliberate.
He was already passed the point of no return, he _was_going to cum. Now he was just savouring the approach. Letting it build. The bear was just a massive dildo with which the otter could beat out the cum. And wasn't that thought just a massive turn on, in an objectification kind of way. There was most certainly something to be said about the pleasure of anticipation.
The otter let out something between a squeak and a moan, his cock twitched and jerked and began to spray sticky white ropes across the bear's front. The bear cried out too, not just because watching the cute little lutrine get off was one the most titillating and beautiful things he'd ever seen, but also because said otter was also clamping down and spasming around him in a rhythmic and very tight massage.
The otter didn't stop though, neither crying out, nor his bouncing. He was going to ride out this orgasm with the bear dick punching his prostate for the whole nine-yards. Even as the bear emptied himself of his comparatively meager load into the otter, that strange exotic curved cock kept spurting.
The bear moved his paws to the otters firm thighs now, his orgasm had already peaked and his member had began to move into that painfully sensitive stage of post coitis. A fact that seemed completely lost on the otter. He just kept going. Surely this was getting intense enough to hurt him too? Or was he just that determined to milk that prostate of his for every last drop. He'd stopped ejacutaing. Properly at least. All that appeared left was a meager trickle of clear sticky fluid. The otter slowed... then stopped as the last few clear drop fell from his tip. The latter option then.
Amazingly, the otter didn't just collapse right then and there. Rolling forward, again rubbing his dick and balls on the now matted and wet fur of the bears stomach, he leaned down for another tired kiss.
_Then_they collapsed into a heap.
The bear woke up first. And quite frankly he couldn't think of a better way to wake up than with a very attractive otter lying next to him which, in spite of all probability, he was still nestled tightly inside. Probably should do something about that. Oh but- surely it would be a crime to as he was to disturb that sleeping angel... angel probably wasn't the right term. Angels weren't supposed to be that horny and engrossed in sin, but they he was hard pressed to think of any other creature that innately happy, passionate and playful. Nymph maybe?
Anyway, what would he do if the otter did wake up? Offer another round? No that wouldn't be classy. Breakfast maybe? But what would he cook? Fish probably. Except he didn't have- wait! There was that. Yes. Was there any left? He thought so... no definitely! And then he had his next move planned and was perfectly happy to progress from waking up to the morning after.
Inching his hips back ever so delicately his semi hard member slipped out with a slick pop, as well as a squeak from the one it was previously occupying. The otter shivered then slowly opened his eyes. An appropriate otter yawn was given, one which displayed a set of pearly white teeth, but still managed to be sickeningly adorable. And by sickening, I mean arousing.
"Morning, Teddy." he said. Oh Gawd! His voice sounded even more sultry in the morning, somehow.
"Chris." said the bear.
"What?"
"My name's Chris. What's yours?"
The otter paused.
"Rain."
Chris raised an eyebrow. "An otter named Rain? Really?"
"Well if your fool of a mother had named you Wilford, you'd want to pick a different name too. I'm Rain to my friends."
Friends? Huh. Presumably he didn't mean just friends. Presumably he didn't sleep with his friends. Or maybe he did. Either way, Chris could work with that.
"Breakfast?" Chris offered.
Wilfor- Rain blinked.
"Um... sure. What were you thinking?"
Chris smiled. And he smiled because he knew the answer he was about to give was just so perfect.
"Salmon."