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Mike the rottweiler and Roger the tiger sat on Roger's living room couch. They were alone in the house, and both sat nearly naked, facing one another. The dark, muscular body of Mike was leaning close to Roger's slender, striped physique, and their lips were sealed together, mouths slightly open. Mike was teaching him how to kiss.

Nearly two weeks had passed since their mutual exploration in the tent. They had remained closest friends and had done little more than touch one another with exploring caresses and light kisses.

Mike had kissed many girls in his life. Being the big, handsome, tender jock, he was frequently the target of everyone's desire. Roger, on the other hand, had a smaller following. He had dated girls in high school and had let his hands wander over a few of them, but he was less experienced.

Roger was being taught how to kiss by the hottest guy in school. It was exhilarating for him, and only years later would he realize what a true fantasy it was for so many people.

They had not defined their relationship during their newfound love. Instead they'd let it hover between them, among them, through them as an invisible bond.

They pulled out of their kiss slowly with a soft, wet click of their lips tugging.

Mike had a dreamy look in his eyes the way he always did when they became physically close. "Okay," he breathed. "Now I'm gonna put my tongue in your mouth."

Roger nodded once and was all at once pulled into the warm, male presence of the rottweiler. Muscular arms slid around him, and Mike's bare chest pressed to his own. The lips sliding over his were smooth and full, and now he felt Mike's tongue -- smooth and hot and wet, pressing between his lips. He accepted it into his mouth and felt the exquisite texture penetrating him with its near frictionless caress. He shivered.

His hand wandered over Mike's naked body. He lately found himself enthralled by the beauty of it. The rottweiler was so muscular and well grown; it was a veritable anatomy study sheathed in soft fur and love. Mike's clothes were spread across the floor -- his shirt, boxers, socks and shorts. The only ornament on his body was a hematite necklace. It complemented his physique nicely -- amazing how such a small thing can accent a person's whole appearance.

The canine's sheath was full of thick, hard cock which jutted out between them.

Roger, whose striped swimmer's body was clothed only in silk boxers, had an erection as well, which stretched the fabric, straining against it to be almost painful. His boxers blended in with the black stripes of his tiger body and yet contrasted to the white fur of his stomach, chest and thighs. The rest of his clothes were folded neatly next to he couch.

He loved sharing affection with Mike. It had been the theme of their friendship for years, and now that it had taken on a romantic quality, it was that much more intense. It punctuated every touch, every playful wrestling match on the carpet, every glance and hug. The whole world had a new flavor to it, since they had admitted their feelings.

Neither of them expected what happened next.

It started with the rattling of the lock on the front door.

Then the door swung open.

Then Mace, Roger's older brother, stepped into the living room. Rock was right behind him.

Mace didn't see them for the first couple of seconds, but when he did, he froze immediately and stared at the two of them, wide-eyed.

"Holy shit," he said. He wore no shirt -- only a pair of torn up jean shorts, which hugged his waist and his significant package, nestled between his legs. He wore scuffed sandals on his feet. His broad white-furred chest, framed in orange and black stripes, expanded with his breathing.

Roger nearly leapt from the couch. He pulled back from Mike's kiss and, obviously panicked beyond reason, tried to hide the large rottweiler with his body.

"Oh shit," he said rapidly. "Oh shit oh shit oh shit!"

Rock the wolf stepped up beside Mace, grinning from ear to ear. He put his hands on his slim hips, wearing only a tight muscle-shirt (which matched the black of his sleek fur), jeans and sneakers. His powerful arms rippled with muscle as they hung at his sides. He looked like something taken from an Abercrombie and Fitch magazine.

Mace, who wouldn't have looked out of place in such a magazine, shoved at him roughly. "Shut up," he commanded. His facial expression was a mixture of shock and anger. "Roger, you never told me you were fucking gay!"

Fear bubbled in the young tiger's voice and it reflected in his wide eyes. He clapped one hand over his erection. "What are you doing home?" he cried. "You weren't supposed to be here!"

"Well I AM here," Mace told him. He had been carrying a notebook of some kind, but he tossed this onto the floor and took a few steps toward them. "I don't fucking BELIEVE this!"

Roger frowned. His initial shock was dissolving into anger. "Well you better START believing it," he snapped. "It took me a while to get used to you fucking Rock while I slept."

"Hey at least I didn't try to fucking hide my boyfriend!" Mace shot back.

Mike, who had made no attempt to hide himself, or to even move, simply blinked once. "...so... he didn't know... and he's... umm... so... you're..."

Roger was no longer trying to cover Mike with his body. He turned to the confused canine and began to explain as best he could.

"My brother Crai-- I mean Mace-- likes guys. He's been screwing Rock. I walked in on them a few weeks ago. They don't know about me, though. They didn't until they walked in on us just now."

Mace grumbled, "Yeah and I had no fucking clue, either." He put his hands on his hips, flexing his large shoulders, his impressive chest expanding with a great sigh.

"I knew," Rock said to Roger. "When you walked in on us, and when we talked in the kitchen, I could tell."

Mike was watching all the interaction, trying to absorb everything.

Mace rubbed his face with one hand. "Bro, I can't believe it. Why didn't you tell me?"

Roger shrugged. "I didn't know until recently. Besides, I thought you'd hate me."

Now Mace looked genuinely angry. "Hate you? What the fuck? How could I hate you? You're my brother. I've always been at your back."

"I'm sorry, Craig, I--"

Mace shoved him in the chest. "I told you," he said, pushing Roger on the shoulder roughly, "to call me Mace."

Roger, who was used to roughhousing with his older brother, began to fight back, and within seconds they were punching and shoving each other, back and forth. They weren't intending to hurt, mostly just to show aggression and let off some steam.

"Why do you (shove) have to be so (push) tough all the (punch) fucking time?" Roger snapped at him, hands flying, trying to fend off Mace's shoves, and giving some of his own. It was fascinating to watch them, as they were both naked to the waist, and both so similar to view. Mace was a bit taller, but they had the same features, both strong, both young and clear-eyed.

"Cause that's how I am," Mace shot back. "Why you gotta hide yourself from me?"

"Because I love you," Roger said. "We're family, but we're friends, too, and I didn't wanna lose that!"

Their movements were slowing down. Mace was pushing at Roger, but with no force. His big hands were coming to rest on the smaller tiger's chest and shoulders, and Roger was doing the same.

Mace's voice softened considerably. "We could never lose that. We're family, bro. We fight and shit, but I love you. I'll always stick by you."

Their touch was no longer to push one another apart, but to bring together. Mace suddenly pulled Roger to him and they wrapped their arms around one another in an intense embrace. Two tigers, nearly identical in appearance save their height, clinging together.

"Always," Mace murmured.

Roger sighed softly, holding his brother tight to him, yielding in his arms. "You always have been."

Mace grinned. "Like when you were twelve and you broke your arm."

Roger snickered. "Yeah and you tried to do my homework because I couldn't write. I failed all those papers."

Mace fuzzled Roger's hair and Roger tickled him, but they didn't part. Instead Mace began to run his fingers through Roger's blond headfur, smoothing it back again, and Roger slid his hands over Mace's large, muscular body.

"You don't need to hide anything from me," Mace told Roger. "If you been through it, chances are I have too."

They merely gazed at one another for a moment. The tenderness of their concern for one another despite the feeling of deceit was evident in their voices, in their eyes.

"That's why I look up to you," he said softly, looking up into Mace's eyes. "Always have. I... never expected you to like guys, but I was always... curious about you. You know how things get sometimes."

He knew indeed.

It was a secret that they shared, something they had never directly spoken of. There was a magnetism between them, a very strong physical attraction. They didn't always think of it that way, but on some level of their conscious mind, they wanted to touch each other.

Growing up, they had wrestled frequently. They had tickled each other and hugged whenever the opportunity presented itself. Sometimes the hugs lasted a long time, when they were alone. Once, a few years prior, they had taken a shower together. It had mostly been to save time, since they had to be at a school event in the evening, but they had washed each other. Thoroughly.

The tension between them had increased exponentially in the past year or so. Sometimes in the mornings Roger would be finishing his shower while Mace would come in to take his. Or vice versa. There would always be a moment when they would pause to look at each other. Occasionally one would approach the other and hug him, saying, "Good morning, bro." This would always result in an erection.

Once, only a couple of months ago, after an afternoon game of catch in the yard, they had taken turns showering. They'd gone into Mace's room and closed the door. They had started wrestling around playfully, completely naked. Both acquired hard-ons very quickly, and the wrestling became slower and more exploring. Neither of them made any attempt to stop, but then the phone rang and it interrupted them. Mace talked on the phone while Roger left.

Since then, things had been especially tense between them, and now with Rock in the picture, they couldn't contain it any longer.

"I guess I always wondered," Mace said softly. "The way stuff happened with us."

"Almost happened," Roger corrected.

Mace nodded once. "Yeah we never actually did stuff yet."

Roger felt a sudden shiver run through his body at the word 'yet'. It was terrifying. This had been in the back of his mind all his life, simply waiting there, a tense spot between he and his brother. A taboo never to be touched. He couldn't imagine Mace actually wanted to explore it. Not really.

Mace grinned then, unexpectedly. "Aww shit," he said softly. He shook his head and became serious, gazing into Roger's eyes. "Did you really look at me like that? Y'know... like at my body? I looked at you a lot."

"Of course," Roger said to him with perfect honesty. He could barely find the breath to speak. "I've always thought you were beautiful."

"If..." Mace swallowed. "If I am, then you are, too, bro." He seemed almost as nervous, almost as caught off guard as Roger. He slid a hand into his brother's chest fur. They held one another more intimately now. Roger's erection presented itself once more, poking out of his boxers. It pressed against Mace's denim-clad thigh.

The taller tiger looked down at this. "I only saw you hard a few times," Mace said. "It looks just like mine."

Rock, who stood close, watching their interaction, put a hand on Mace's shoulder. "He sure does," he said.

There was silence for a moment, and then Mace popped the button just above the zipper of his jeans. White boxers pressed out from the slightly open zipper. "Wanna see 'em close together?" he asked, lowering his voice.

Roger sighed, shaking a bit all over. He looked over at Mike who sat on the couch, his cock large and erect, with a drop of precum dripping from the tip.

Mike stood up, causing the a drop of precum to fall onto his foot as his cock bounced slightly.

"I wanna see," he said softly, walking toward them. He looked at Roger. "I never saw your brother's before, and I only saw yours a couple times." He seemed to have no compunctions about watching his boyfriend touching his brother.

"Go on," Rock said softly, putting a hand on Roger's back, obviously of a similar view. "Touch it."

Roger felt his stomach tighten with nervousness. The four of them stood in a close circle now, with Mike on his right, Rock on his left, and his big brother in front of him. He looked down at the plump white bulge of cotton pressing out from between the denim flaps of Mace's crotch. He cupped the swell of the fabric in his hand, doing the forbidden, what he had dared never imagine, let alone speak of.

Mace moaned softly. "Yeah, bro," he said, offering gentle, masculine encouragement.

Roger tugged the zipper down, slowly, listening to the sound of the metal teeth letting go, releasing the hot bulge.

This he had never expected. This was, perhaps, something he had speculated in the past -- what his brother's cock looked like up close. He had wondered, but he never thought he would have the chance to examine it.

He could scarcely breathe. He slid his thumbs under the waistband of Mace's underwear and pulled it down. Inch by inch the larger tiger's long, thick cock was unsheathed into the open. It was hard, standing up at an angle.

Roger gazed at it in fascination. It was larger than his own, but otherwise exactly the same. The head had the same shape, the same foreskin, and slit at the tip. It was like staring at a larger version of his own cock.

He touched it. Yet another wonder, another thing to make him shiver with arousal. The pink of his hand touched the pink of Mace's cock, smooth flesh meeting and gliding together.

Mace returned the gesture -- one of his large hands curled around Roger's manhood, gripping it gently.

The two brothers stood there for a few moments, each holding the others shaft, examining one another.

Rock walked around Mace so he was standing next to Mike. "Damn," he murmured, the wolf leaning close to the rottweiler. "Ain't that about the hottest thing you ever saw?"

Mike was fascinated, seemingly unable to speak. He merely nodded, idly playing with the foreskin of his big cock.

Rock rested a hand companionably on Mike's round shoulder. "Hey," the wolf said to the rottweiler. "I've seen you around, hanging out with Mace's bro."

Mike nodded, looking away for a moment to check out Rock. "Yeah, I remember."

"Big dick you got there," the wolf said.

"Big dick, big muscles and big feet. Looks like we both do," Mike said, smiling proudly. They were alternately watching the two brothers and each other.

Mace and Roger looked almost like a mirror image, despite Mace being slightly taller and more muscular. The taller brother began to stroke the younger's shaft, his hand gliding over Roger's maleness dexterously. Roger mimicked this, feeling his brother's cock.

With their free hands they wandered, pawing at one another with a tenderness they once shared platonically as children, which looked full of innocent affection. They only paused long enough for Roger to pull his boxers down to his feet and kick them away, and then they were naked.

Mace slid his arms round Roger's waist and pulled their bodies together. Their cocks pressed between them as they sandwiched together, the slightly shorter tiger's swimmer's figure flush with Mace's football player build.

They embraced tightly and looked down at the twin cock heads amid their fur. They continued stroking one another.

"I can't believe we're doing this," Roger said.

"Feels fucking good, don't it?" Mace asked him breathily.

"Yeah," Roger agreed. "But you're my brother, y'know?"

Mace half-smiled. "Hey, we're a couple of horny guys. And if you're gonna mess around, who you gonna trust more than your big brother?"

What overwhelmed Roger now was the newness of the experience. He had never known this side of Mace before. It was so similar to when they had play wrestled, but this was for pleasure. This was for sex. Each of them had the most intimate, sensitive part of the other in his hand and was stroking it for him. A whole world of possibilities was opening up for him. What else had he wanted to do with his brother that he never let himself admit?

But then he glanced over to the couch and saw something that made him laugh.

Rock and Mike were sitting at opposite ends of the couch, comparing the size of their feet. Rock had pulled off his shoes and had his big wolf paws pressed to the rottweiler's. The dark pads of Rock's paws contrasted to the lighter, smooth bottoms of Mike's feet.

"What're the fuck?" Mace asked, looking at them. His voice was husky and for once Roger thought the way his brother swore sounded kind of sexy.

"Mike's always doing that," Roger told him. "He's got big feet and he's always showing them off. Don't ask me why."

"I do the same thing with my body," Mace said. "I got big muscles, and I like showing that off."

"Like your dick, huh?" Roger breathed. They were panting softly in pleasure as they spoke, caught up in one another, watching as Mike flexed his toes, pressed against Rock's wolf foot. Mike had a big erection, and seemed only spurred on by what he was doing.

Mike looked at Roger then, tilting his head. "Rog?" he said. It was clear he was about to ask for permission from Roger. "Is it okay if I--"

But just then, Rock's foot slid off of Mike's and it came to rest between the rottweiler's legs, the big foot planting itself right on Mike's cock. The rottweiler moaned, clearly too surprised to finish his sentence.

"It's okay, Mikey," Roger said. There was actually something erotic about watching Mike and Rock in that position, sitting on the couch facing one another. It was the same place he had been in so long ago, over at Victor's house, when the experimentation had started.

Mace and Roger turned their attention to one another again.

"I wanna do something," Mace said to him. His stomach was tingling with nervousness. "Rock and I were gonna get a shower."

"Yeah?" Roger whispered, his thighs tensing as he pressed his cock against his brother's into his brother's grip.

"Yeah," Mace said. "Wanna... come with us?"

Roger swallowed with an audible click. "All four of us?" He motioned to the canine and lupine on the couch.

Mace nodded once. "Fuck yes," he said, his big cock twitching slightly. "We can all get in there together."

"Yeah," Rock said, standing up. He pulled his shirt over his head, baring his muscular black furred upper body. "We're gonna shower, too."

Roger looked over at Mike, who was standing up as well. His cock was hard and thick, fully erect. Neither of them had missed a beat of the conversation.

"Are you sure?" Roger asked Mace.

Mace nodded. "Let's go."

* * *

In the small, modest house of Roger and Mace's parents, the only place they considered a luxury was the bathroom. It was rather large, with a smooth white tile floor and a walk-in shower, with a slightly lowered floor. The shower was white tile with intermittent gray ones. Perfectly clean and smooth, it seemed somehow too elegant to be in the small house.

One by one the guys filed into the room, bringing an amazing amount of tension with them -- Mace, Roger, Mike, then Rock. Two tigers a rottweiler and a wolf. The four of them filled the space between the shower and the sink with their large bodies -- the two brothers close to the shower and the canid and lupine near the sink.

Mace turned on the water. The knob creaked slightly. The room was suddenly full of the sound of crashing water.

"Did you ever do this with Rock?" Roger asked, speaking above the shower.

"No, not yet," Mace said. "We do lots of other shit, though. He's learning all my sensitive spots."

"Like... under the head of your dick, right?" Roger volunteered. "And I'll bet you like your nipples licked."

Mace nodded. "How did you know?"

"I've got the same dick," Roger told him. "I'll bet... I'll bet I can find spots you don't know about."

They were silent for a moment, the four of them absorbing the situation. Rock was the only one wearing clothes, so their naked bodies touched lightly as they shifted around.

It was about to happen, this intense experience that seemed to have its own direction, and they all knew it. Steam was rising from the shower floor, made by the hot water. The air was humid and warm, excited even more by the emotions of the males gathered there.

Roger looked into Mace's eyes and said, "You first."

Mike put his hand on Rock's chest. "Yeah," he said. "Show us what you guys do. I wanna see."

Rock pulled his pants down, along with his boxers, in one fluid motion, and he stepped out of them. Naked he was even more impressive than clothed. He was black all over, even the erect cock that jutted out of his sheath. It was the color of onyx, and perfectly shaped.

He lifted one large dark foot and stepped into the shower. Water crashed down onto his shoulders and chest, running in rivulets over his muscular body, pulling in the intricate gaps between. He turned, his black figure tall, his back slightly arched against the shower and the water ran from his shoulder blades down to his tail, between the cheeks of his firm, round butt.

Mace stepped in as well, and he stood under the showerhead. In seconds he was similarly soaked, the sharp black stripes which hugged his muscular body lay sleek and wet on him.

He pressed his body against Rock's, and as his black stripes melded into the black fur of the wolf, they began to kiss. Tiger and wolf embraced, thick arms sliding around torso, striped leg slipping between dark thighs, and finally lips touching, running over one another.

"Wow," Roger said softly. He felt a strong hand slip into his own and he realized it was Mike's. He looked at the rottweiler briefly and smiled nervously at him. "Are you okay with this?" he asked.

He couldn't believe this was happening. It was like a surreal dream to him, standing there with his boyfriend next to him, watching his brother and his brother's lover making love.

Mike nodded. "I'm okay with it," he said. "This is gettin' me real excited." Despite his often lack of understanding, he seemed to grasp the implications of what was happening.

Roger touched Mike's chest with his free hand. They faced one another, looking alternately at the showering lovers and at each other.

"Excited?" he asked. He grabbed Mike's big cock and squeezed it, causing the rottweiler to moan. "I hadn't noticed."

They smiled at each other in a nervous, excited way. Trepidation and arousal fought for the top priority, and arousal was clearly winning.

They turned their attention to the tiger and the wolf in the shower who were lightly tracing one another's muscles with their wet fingertips.

Then Mace, in the arms of his wolf lover, looked over at Roger. "Come on in, bro," he said. A trickle of water ran from his headfur and dripped onto the bridge of his muzzle.

Roger pulled back from Mike and his body began to move him toward the shower, into the fold of these two beautiful beings. He crossed the tile and stepped down into the shower, realizing once again how much taller Mace and Rock were.

And then suddenly his big brother took him in his arms and pressed him to the cool back wall of the shower. The impact was light but he still felt it, and Mace filled his vision, his brother's broad white-furred chest, his orange and black striped shoulders and his face, the square-jawed, clear-eyed jock who came from the same loins.

Roger rested his hands on Mace's chest, cupping the mounds of his pecs. The movement, the touch felt natural and somehow submissive.

Mace lightly scritched his brother's downy tummy fur, causing him to tense up and grin, as he was ticklish there. Warm water ran from Mace's shoulders onto Roger's body, his arms and chest, but the majority of the shower spray was blocked by his brother's bulk.

They touched one another and slowly Roger moved closer to him, until the length of their cocks pressed together. Still partly sheathed in white fur, they were both solidly erect. Once again, as he looked down at them, he was reminded of a mirror image, only a mirror across time. Someday he would be this size.

And with this, the feeling of closeness with his brother overwhelmed him. He had wrestled with Mace. He had hugged him. He had leaned against him while they watched movies. Now they were close in an entirely different way.

His brother was looking down as well.

"They're the same," Mace said. "Same dick. Mine's just bigger."

"Not by much," Roger said softly. "It's kinda cool, seeing how big I'm gonna get."

"Yeah," Mace said. They looked into one another's eyes. "You... wanna closer look?"

They started at one another for a moment. Then Roger cast a side-glance to Rock and Mike. Rock seemed to have no objections to any of this. He stood just behind Mace, looking magnificently dark and strong. Mike seemed fascinated by their exchange. He was leaning against the sink, tugging on the foreskin of his cock, eyes glazed over with lust.

Roger's own feelings were conflicted, but more than anything he wanted this. He was doing something he knew would be considered wrong, and would be their secret forever. In the end, lust won out. So he began to sink to his knees.

"Yeeaahh," Mace whispered, spreading his muscular thighs. Milky fur ran down the insides of his legs, and cords of muscle shifted as he moved.

Rock murmured huskily, "Check out your big bro's cock... take a good look." The big wolf was pawing himself off, the black pads of his hand meeting the dark skin of his cock, stroking it slowly but firmly under the water. He was truly a sight to behold -- the consummate football player stroking his meat.

Kneeling between Mace's legs was like entering a new world. His legs were tall and powerful, and nestled between them was the thick, hard cock he had touched earlier. It was glistening with water, wet and beautifully smooth. Below were his large, egg-shaped balls which looked no smaller for the water pouring over them.

He closed his hand on it, feeling the immense size in comparison to his own, and his listened to his brother groan in pleasure. He leaned forward, eye-level with the big shaft, the slit peering at him like an eye, and he kissed the tip. He remembered doing this to Calvin.

He slid his tongue out and licked the underside. It tasted of water, clean and pure. And he licked again, and again, each time using more of his tongue.

"Awwww yeah, bro... do it," Mace encouraged him from above. His toes flexed on the tile, then curled.

Roger then took the whole head into his mouth, letting it rest on his tongue, and then he moved forward, swallowing up he shaft as it filled his muzzle. It was much larger than Calvin's had been, and he liked this. His brother was big and strong all over, and his cock was the centerpiece of this. He was sucking on his brother's maleness, the very essence of his pleasure and masculinity.

All eyes were on him then, as they watched -- Mike, his new boyfriend, Rock, his brother's boy friend, and Mace himself. They followed every movement with their gaze. Perhaps they all envied Mace, wanting to feel Roger's mouth on them. Or perhaps they envied Roger, wanting to taste the big cock. In either case, they were all getting off on it, visibly aroused.

Roger accepted this, excited by the idea of being watched, of sharing this with his brother and with Mike. He truly wanted to suck Mace off. He used what he'd learned from his dalmatian friend and bobbed up and down on he flesh pole, stroking with his hand what would not fit into his mouth. It filled him up quickly, making him gag as it reached his throat, but this was somehow wonderful, to be penetrated as deeply as he could stand.

Mike found his resolve at this point, wanting to get a closer look, and wanting to be a part of the action. He stepped forward, into the shower, his big feet finding their place on the tile next to Rock's and Mace's. He stood next to Rock and, despite the shower being large and open, his body was pressed against the wolf's under the hot spray of the shower.

They looked at one another, rottweiler and wolf, their gaze running up and down as they had before in the living room. They were almost exactly the same height and build, though Mike was a bit more powerful in appearance because of his musculature. He was also the same age as Rock and Mace, since he had been held back twice in school.

Rock put his hands on Mike's shoulders and then ran them down the rottweiler's thick, powerful arms, touching the round, full biceps. Mike likewise began to touch the wolf's sculpted body, tracing his pecs and his slender waist, fingers running through fur and over muscle.

The wolf grinned at him. "You got a big doggie dick to match the rest of you," he said.

Mike grinned back and looked almost shy. "Yeah, I always had that."

Rock slid his hand out and, hesitating only once, pressed his palm underneath Mike's erect penis. This caused the rottweiler to thrust forward involuntarily.

"Yeah," said the wolf. "Big dick and a lotta 'skin." He demonstrated this as he jerked Mike off, rolling the foreskin up over the head of the big shaft, then back, exposing the tender skin.

Mike slowly returned the favor, examining Rock's cock, taking it into his hand. It looked almost innocent, the way they pawed at one another. Their hands moved in unison, sliding back and forth, their muscular arms flexing as they pleasured one another. This was new for both of them, and they had a camaraderie in it -- two new buddies experiencing something new together.

While they shared this, they watched the two brothers. Rock stood very close to Mace, and the big tiger turned his head to look at him. His eyes were half-closed, his mouth slightly open, his square jaw slack. The tiger's broad chest rose and fell with his deep breathing, the white fur wet and sleek over his pecs.

They had exchanged a similar look in the locker room at college when Rock had sucked off the wrestler wolf (whose name he still didn't know).

Mace turned slightly and pressed his mouth to Rock's, forcing the wolf's lips open with his tongue. They kissed deeply, openly and wetly. It was intense but slow, relaxed, their tongues gliding over one another. Coupled with the friction on their cocks, and the arousal from the sexual energy in the room of the new shared experience, it was the best kiss they could remember having.

Mace was running his hands through his brother's headfur, playing with his ears in the affectionate way he had done when they were kids. He loved Roger. He liked to roughhouse with him. He liked to wrestle and play with him and pin him down. He liked to be the older, dominant brother. And he liked having Roger suck his cock. A secret part of him had always wanted to fuck his brother, to simply bend Roger over and penetrate him, to truly prove his authority. This was almost as good. He loved plunging into the wetness of Roger's mouth, even feeling him gag a little -- it reminded him of how big he was.

Mike was thrusting his hips forward into Rock's hand, watching Mace's cock slide in and out of Roger's muzzle. He watched the head make a bulge in the younger tiger's cheeks. He decided that, for Roger, it must be like sucking himself off, only larger. He could see Roger was enjoying it from the way the young tiger's eyes were closed and he looked so peaceful, his mouth open, sucking.

Mace noticed Mike watching, and the football tiger smiled at him, his expression clouded with lust.

"Looks fucking good, doesn't it?" Mace asked him. He looked at Mike's body, from his huge feet to his floppy ears. He was attracted to him as he had been attracted to many guys before, and as Mike looked back at him, he could see the attraction was mutual; Mike wanted him. Perhaps it was because it was forbidden, or maybe he was genuinely attracted to him, but it was in the rottweiler's eyes.

"Yeah," Mike breathed. "Never saw anything like it." They held their gaze and moved closer. Communicating without words, they closed in on one another.

"You look fucking good, too," Mace murmured to him. He looked at Rock's hand, pawing him off, and this aroused him further. It was like in the locker room, almost, when he had nearly cum just from watching Rock go down on the wrestler wolf. Only this time Mace was getting sucked off be someone else.

The combined lust and tension of the four males was a tangible thing, filling the air as surely as the water and the steam. Instinct took the next step. Mace licked Mike's lips with his broad, pink tongue. Mike's eyes nearly closed and he opened his mouth.

Roger watched their jaws work as their mouths opened and Mike's dark lips press to Mace's pink ones, their tongues sliding over one another. It was a slow, deep kiss, wet with the shower water pouring over them. This was not love; this was lust, exploring their physical desire. They were riding the waves of the mutual arousal filling the room.

Roger felt his stomach tighten, watching the guy he loved kissing his brother. It felt so wrong, and yet they were so beautiful, so male. They both knew he was watching, and this made it all the more intense. As he sucked his brother's cock, he felt like he was participating. Mike's had Mace's tongue in his mouth and Roger had Mace's cock in his mouth. He was adjusting to the size of it and took more, increasing the pace of his rhythm.

The next moment, Rock, the big wolf, was kneeling next to him. His dark form towered over Roger even while they were both kneeling. His knees touched the tile and he slid close to Roger, his shoulder pressing against the tiger's.

Roger looked at him, surprised through the haze of his lust, having never been this close to the wolf. Rock's blue eyes were fixed on one thing -- Mace's cock. He nuzzled Roger's face out of the way and took the taller tiger's shaft into his mouth. His black lupine lips contrasted to the deep pink of the skin, but he worked it expertly, moving forward so the rod darted into his slender muzzle, sheathed in moving wetness.

The next thing they knew, they were sharing Mace's cock, sucking on it together. Their muzzles opened and they held the long, thick length between them. There was constant movement -- Rock's tongue sliding over his as they took a moment to kiss, and then the rubbery shaft of Mace's cock as he took it into his mouth, and then Rock's lips as they shared it.

Their hands explored one another in this world of cock, licking and the sound of their breathing.

Mace stopped kissing Mike so he could look down and watch this. It was intensely erotic to watch, two mouths, the two guys he loved pleasuring him. It made him feel so much larger, having two guys on him at once, and he leaned back against the shower wall to watch. His pecs and abs were a stack of layered muscle, covered in white fur, surrounded by orange and black on all sides, his washboard abs tensing, flexing as he writhed in pleasure.

Mike watched this, standing next to him, and he ran his hand over Mace's beautiful stomach, feeling the muscles, how similar they were to his own. "Dude," Mike said. "You're so fucking ripped."

Mace grinned dreamily, saying, "Fuck yeah." This was the ultimate satisfaction for him, two guys worshipping his manhood while a third was in awe over his body.

Down around waist, Rock nudged Roger.

"Get up, dude," Rock said softly.

Roger pulled off of his brother's cock and looked at him, dazed. "Huh?"

Rock rubbed the side of Roger's face, fingertips sliding into his cheek ruffs. "Stand up," he repeated.

Roger nodded once and stood on slightly shaky knees, next to Mace. The two brothers looked at one another for a moment of silent understanding, and then back down at Rock.

"Check this out, Mike," Rock said. He took each of the tiger's cocks into his hands, holding them close, looking at them, at how identical they were. He took Mace's into his mouth, sucking on it, and the big tiger grunted softly in pleasure. He slid back and forth on it, and Roger watched it disappear into the wolf's muzzle, pink sliding into black. This is what they did when they were alone. He was getting to see it close up, what they had been doing in the bedroom next to his, in the quiet of the night when he hadn't been able to sleep.

Rock then slid off of Mace's shaft and, just as quickly he took Roger's cock into his mouth. Roger's knees buckled so that he had to lean back against the shower wall. Perhaps he should have expected it, but he had not. The big wolf was surprisingly good at giving head. He could feel the long, smooth lupine tongue gliding along his tender skin as the tunnel of his slender muzzle worked on him like a sleeve.

Then Rock moved to Mace's cock once again. Roger slumped against Mace's body, trembling all over. He wasn't used to oral sex, and it had completely caught him off guard. Mace's body felt warm and strong and, as he leaned against the taller tiger, he began to stroke himself with his hand.

His brother was looking at him, watching, and Roger wondered if Mace did it that way. Roger could feel the first twinges of his orgasm approaching already, having been so intensely stimulated by everything they'd done so far.

Rock licked Mace's balls, taking slow, languid slurps between his legs. Then he shifted to did the same to Roger. The younger tiger moaned, unable to look away, watching the dark muzzle part and the pink tongue sliding over his balls, and underneath. No one had ever touched him there.

"Good, ain't he?" Mace asked Roger, with a bit of a smirk.

Roger nodded slowly, unable to form a coherent reply.

Rock stood then, and he pressed his body up to Mace's. They began to kiss once again, and Roger watched, saw their muscular bodies entwine, and it was even more beautiful than he had imagined. Rock and Mace fit together in every way -- teammates, friends and lovers. They had a rare connection, perhaps only equaled by what Roger felt for Mike.

Mike, who had been mostly a spectator for the past few moments, slid around Rock to stand before Roger. They looked into one another's eyes. They were both stroking their cocks.

"How are you doing?" Roger asked him quietly. He placed his free hand on Mike's shoulder, gazing into his eyes.

The rottweiler returned the gesture. He pressed his body against Roger's and his cool nose touched the tiger's ear. "This is the hottest thing I ever did," he whispered. "It's great. How 'bout you? You okay?"

Roger slid his arms around Mike's body. "Yeah," he whispered back. This was their brief moment of privacy in the company of the other two. This was their slice of reality set apart where they remembered their love for one another. There was such fierce affection between them, and he regretted not discovering his feelings sooner. All the years they could have had together so long ago, if he had only realized.

Mike's hand found the shower ledge, and his fingers ran over a bar of slippery soap. He loved soap. He loved bubbles and lather and being slippery. He picked it up and pulled back from Roger, rolling the white bar in his hands, making a soapy foam in his fingers. They were in a shower, after all.

Then he handed it to Roger. "Here, buddy," he said.

Roger nodded, taking the slippery soap. It was smooth and had a pleasant scent that he liked. He rolled it over in his fingers as Mike had, making the bubbly lather in his hands. Then he passed the soap back to Mike. The two of them began to lather up their furry bodies, making their fur slick and bubbly. It was a fun game for them, something they had never done before. Roger discovered he liked how Mike's muscles felt when they were slippery.

Mace and Rock noticed this as well.

"Gimmie that," Mace said, holding out a big hand. The soap was traded to him, and then to Rock.

Roger, feeling mischievous and much more brave, reached his slippery hand out for his brother's cock. His hand grasped it and began to slide along its surface from the lack of friction. Even though he had done it several times within the past hour, it still felt new and exciting for him to see it and touch it.

He looked into Mace's eyes, gazing up at him with a mixture of desire and love. He felt a slippery hand cupping the shaft of his cock and realized it was Mike's. He shuddered with pleasure. It was so slick, with just the right amount of friction and wetness. He turned to the rottweiler, his lover, and kissed him, parting his lips.

Mike's other hand was holding Rock's black cock, his thick, powerful arm between Mace and Roger.

Rock, in turn was massaging Mike's shaft, making his fingers into a wet, slick tunnel for the canine's member.

There is a distinct sound accompanying wet stroking like that -- it is like a series of wet clicks, skin kissing skin, and this is the sound that filled the shower, along with their moans. Four hands glided up and down, four sheaths of paw massaged maleness.

There were no couples now, nothing private or separate. They switched positions -- Roger found himself holding a big, black cock which belonged to Rock, Mace and Mike were stroking one another, while Rock felt Mike's balls. Mace liked that idea and cupped a hand under Roger's furry orbs, tickling the pleasure trail beneath. This lasted for a while, until they switched again. This time Rock and Mace were both playing with Mike's cock, while Roger was stroking them.

They all moved close together in a kind of circle -- as much as they could manage in the shower. Their wet footpaws touched from time to time, and their arms rubbed over one another as they criss-crossed between their bodies. Soap was passed around and foamy bubbles built up everywhere. The sound of the water could not drown out the wet sucking noise of their hands tugging on their shafts.

Roger felt himself trembling all over, his orgasm not far off. Somehow this was better than his blowjob from Calvin, or anything he'd done before. He was surrounded by beautiful males, aggressive and uninhibited, touching him, touching each other. Their lust was pure and untainted.

He knew their techniques now, each of them, as they stroked his cock. Rock squeezed firmly and moved slow, while Mike was light and faster. Mace knew exactly what he liked, however, and he relished it when his brother would take him in hand and massage his member.

They were perfect images of male desire, all of them, muscles moving and shifting beneath fur, each with well over half a foot of thick shaft pumping into their hands. Their moans and grunts of pleasure mingled in the air.

Roger looked at Mace's tensed body, at his eight pack of abs, at Mace's big hand massaging his cock. He let his hands fall to his sides for a moment, overcome with pleasure. He found himself thrusting into the warmth that bathed his shaft, his brother's hand. His friends. His brother. His lover. They ceased to have labels anymore and simply became fellow men who were fucking hot, and hot for fucking.

The clicking and slicking sounds of hands and soap and water on his skin echoed in his ears, and he found himself moving closer to his big brother, to Mace. His world became this now, the hand stroking him, his flesh pole penetrating the sheath of paw pads.

He looked into Mace's eyes, and suddenly his brother slid close and kissed him. It was a powerful, all-encompassing kiss. It was the affection they never dared to admit to themselves, let alone one another.

He was caught up in this, and finally he could take no more. Rock was massaging his shaft now, or maybe it was Mike. It didn't matter. He was moving beyond the point of no return, where the pleasure took on the frantic quality that rippled through his body and made his toes curl. The gliding touch reached its pinnacle of intensity, skin sliding on skin, the friction sending him through the greatest pleasure a male can experience.

He gave himself completely to his orgasm. "D-don't stop!" he whispered heatedly, but the rest of his words were lost in Mace's mouth, as a tongue was driven over his, into his mouth. He sucked on it as Mike and Rock caressed him, tugging on him as they knew he enjoyed. The heat of his brother's lips, the constant movement of his lover's hand, the sound of the water rushing over him and their moans of pleasure, all surrounded him and filled him full of pure ecstasy.

His cock tensed and shot out its seed in white ropes which were lost in the shower water, arcing through the air before they were washed away in the hot spray. His hips bucked and his chest arched out. Two strong arms wrapped around his waist, Mace holding him close.

They all held him as he came, their masculine bodies pressed to him on all sides -- a hand sliding under his butt, another between his legs, circling his incredibly sensitive tailhole, while a third was simply rubbing his back. Two hands made a tunnel for his cock to pierce. He could not cry out; he simply moaned inwardly, his thoughts a haze, incoherent, drowned out under the blast of pleasure filing him to the tips of his fingers.

He fell back against them, out of Mace's kiss as slowly, slowly the pleasure subsided, giving way to a dim shade of reality once more.

He heard someone panting and realized it was himself.

Rock held him from behind and Mike was on his right. Mace was in front of him, watching him.

He gazed into Mike's eyes, and a fullness of love leapt out from him so strong it overwhelmed him. He was sharing this with Michael, his big rottweiler lover. They were together, and all of this newness, this intensity was a memory they would share forever. Mike was his companion.

And his brother, Mace, who was watching him with lustful fascination -- he loved his brother in an entirely different way. At the moment he couldn't tell whether it was romantic love or a close camaraderie, but there would be time for that later. He was in their arms, all of them, drifting down from the most intense high he'd ever experienced.

"Hey," Mace said to them. "Dry off. We're gonna go to my bedroom."

* * *

The drying off was tender and quiet. No one said anything about their plans, or what would happen. They all just silently consented to continue.

They filed out of the bathroom one by one, through the small house and into Mace's crowded, messy bedroom. It was mostly covered in clothes, from football jerseys to socks to jeans.

Mace and Rock pulled the clothing and sheets from the bed, tossing it haphazardly onto the existing piles on the floor. With the exception of Roger, they were all still visibly aroused, their cocks bobbing slightly as they walked around the room.

Mace looked at Rock. "Get the lube," he said softly.

Roger stepped into the room approached his brother. "What's that for?" he asked, although he already knew.

"I wanna fuck you," said his big brother. "You ever been done before?"

Roger shook his head. "N... no," he said. He was trembling again. Even after what they'd just done, he felt nervous again. This was further than he'd ever intended to go, but it felt like a natural climax, if any of it could be called natural.

Mace touched his brother's shoulders. "Lay down, bro," he said softly. He didn't have to ask if Roger wanted it. This was their secret.

Roger knew what was coming but he said nothing about it; he was beyond all protest. He climbed onto Mace's bed, kneeling on the mattress, his knees and hands sinking in slightly. He felt his balls dangling between his legs, and he lifted his tail. He felt so vulnerable, so exposed, more than ever before.

Rock handed Mace the lubrication, and the taller tiger knelt behind Roger on the bed.

Out of the corner of his eye, Roger could see Mace behind him, with two hands on his rump, spreading his cheeks. His tailhole was plainly visible.

Mike was watching this with an almost blank expression. His eyes were half-lidded, and his mouth was closed. He looked half-asleep. Yet the part of him responding to it was not asleep at all.

Rock stood next to the rottweiler and nudged him a little. "Hey dude, you okay?" His arms hung loosely at his sides, and he let one hand wander to Mike's cock, cupping it lightly, playing with the foreskin.

Mike nodded slowly, solemnly. He was returning the favor now, toying with Rock's shaft.

"Yeah," he said. "I just... never saw anything like this before." He was turned to face the wolf, but he could not take his eyes off of the two tigers on the bed.

Rock was alternately gazing at Mike and at the two brothers as he exchanged caresses with Mike.

"You mean two guys doing stuff together?" Rock asked.

"No, more like... two guys who were brothers. Two guys I knew since I was a kid," Mike told him. "Yeah, I never thought I'd see two brothers messin' around, but it's even more amazing that it's _them_, y'know?"

Rock nodded slowly, his voice husky with lust, yet compassionate and friendly. "I know, dude. I love Mace just like you love Roger. This is all fuckin' weird. But I like it."

"Yeah," Mike said, his voice similarly clouded. "Me too, I think."

They watched one another for a few moments, while their hands worked in a steady rhythm.

Then the wolf said, "You're really hot, you know that? I see why Roger likes you."

Mike half-smiled and didn't attempt to seem shy. "Aww, it's nothin'," he said. "I just work out a lot. Besides, you're as big as me."

Rock shrugged. "Maybe." He leaned closer to the big, buff rottweiler. "You ever mess around with a guy before? Y'know, not just jerking off?"

Mike shook his head. "Not really."

Rock glanced down at himself. "...wanna try it?"

Meanwhile, Mace was sliding one lubricated finger into Roger's body. The smaller tiger's passage was tight and slippery. It bathed his finger in a luxurious sleeve. Roger's butt was firm and round, beautifully tensed.

"This okay, bro?" Mace asked.

Roger's chin was on the pillow, the front half of his body limp on the mattress. "Yeeeeahhh," he whispered dreamily. In the past he had experimented with himself a few times. He had slid his finger into himself to see what it felt like, and that had been very good. But nothing prepared him for the feelings Mace was giving him.

He was totally unaccustomed to friction going _in_ his tailhole, and his brother's finger seemed huge, filling him up, penetrating an intensely sensitive place. Each movement, no matter how subtle, was apparent to him, sending new tingles through his body.

Next there were two fingers. Twice as thick, and yet they slid in mostly with ease.

"Ghhhhaaaa," Roger breathed, his fingers clutching the sheets, not in pain but in pleasure. They withdrew slowly, bringing an entirely different sensation, and then they pushed in once again.

Rock was laying on the carpeted floor, propped up on his elbows, his legs stretched out. At almost a perfect right angle his black cock stood straight up, dripping precum down its smooth length.

"C'mere, buddy," he coaxed.

Mike was on his hands and knees between Rock's legs, his muscular physique hovering over the wolf's legs. His square muzzle was approaching Rock's cock slowly, tentatively.

"Yeahhh, put it in your mouth," the wolf soothed.

The most amazing part of it was how slowly Mike did it. He opened his muzzle, his big pink tongue sliding out, and very gradually closed it on the head of Rock's manhood. Then he began to slide down. Perhaps he was just testing how much of its length he could take in his mouth, but to Rock it didn't matter. He was shuddering with pleasure at how slowly his cock was being engulfed. He could feel it sliding over Mike's tongue, deep into his mouth.

Rock arched his chest out, his fingers curling in the carpet, his toes flexing, as he watched the big, masculine rottweiler suck his cock.

"You ready to take my cock, bro?" Mace asked Roger.

"Fuck me, Mace," Roger said, his voice shaking. It was the most erotic thing he could remember experiencing. His brother was the football hero, the muscled jock, the big man everyone wanted. And Roger wanted him now, too.

"Tell me if it hurts to much," Mace said quietly, smoothly.

He positioned his lubed cock under Roger's tail, against the tight pink pucker, noticing how the skin tone was so similar to the head of his penis. With only a slight push, he penetrated the ring of flesh and slipped inside.

Roger grunted, not used to the size -- his brother's cock, after all, was larger than his fingers. But he was unusually sensitive to being penetrated, he had learned that. He did not protest.

All the years Mace had been the protector, the one who kept Roger out of trouble. They had grown apart somewhat as they'd grown, but he still cared, that much was certain. He cared for Roger deeply as his younger brother, the one who was always there for him when he needed him.

Mace could never articulate such feelings in words, and so this was his way of telling Roger, of expressing his affection, his need to protect him and to be close to him. To love him.

After only a minute or so the pain began to fade away, and Roger urged him to speed up. Mace was pushing himself in and out, rocking back and forth, the pink of his cock disappearing into his little brother's firm, tight ass again and again. Big tiger, little tiger.

Mike had never sucked cock before, and so when he tried to take too much, he gagged.

"Go easy," Rock said softly. "Roll on your side, dude."

Mike looked up at him questioningly, pulling off of the shaft. A line of saliva ran from the head of the cock to the rottweiler's dark lips. He rolled his body onto its side, his muscles flexing, shifting beneath the brown and black fur. His pink cock stood out from his body, bobbing slightly.

Rock laid down opposite Mike, moving to a sixty-nine position. He ran his hands up and down Mike's thick, powerful thighs. Then he pointed the rottie's cock to his muzzle and began to suck on it.

Mike immediately grasped the idea. Rock moaned as Mike began to suck him off again, and the sound was muffled on the cock in his own muzzle.

Their heads were bobbing slowly, making slurping sounds as wolf and canine hugged each other's hips, sharing the pleasure of sucking each other off. They were a beautiful tangle of legs and arms, wrapped up together, their bodies flexing and squirming in ecstasy against one another.

"Faster," Roger begged.

And so Mace began to move faster, harder, ramming himself in now, and he bent over, wrapping his arms around Roger from behind. He held him close, this body which was bound to his by blood, by love and now by pleasure.

He was grunting loudly, eyes half-lidded, hips slamming into Roger's butt, shoving himself all the way in. His big balls slapped against the back of Roger's slightly smaller ones as he gripped the younger tiger in his arms.

It was exhilarating, pushing past all resistance, taking his pleasure in Roger like this. They were working together now -- his brother by submitting, Mace by being the aggressor, each fulfilling his role completely.

He did not last long -- he could feel his orgasm approaching already.

Mike's stomach tensed up, full of the joy of being sucked off, having the wolf's wet muzzle sliding over his shaft. He was so caught up in his lust, the good feelings, he could hardly move.

And suddenly the unexpected happened. Rock moaned loudly in a way he hadn't before. He grabbed Mike's thighs tightly and began to suck harder, more urgently.

The cock in Mike's mouth twitched, and it spurted out a thick, hot, salty stream of cum. Then another. It flooded Mike's mouth, splashing over his tongue.

His eyes widened with shock as the wolf spurted his seed into his mouth. The white liquid welled up to his lips and spilled out, running down his chin. He could not pull off, however, because just then he began to cum as well. His orgasm made him tense up all over, and his throat worked as he swallowed the wolf's semen.

At the same time he was pumping his own juice into Rock's mouth, and the wolf seemed more than eager to take it all.

They were locked together in their climax, like one being with four arms and four legs, laying there.

"Oh fuck... fuck... I love you... fuck, bro," Mace grunted through clenched teeth, and then he pushed all the way into Roger, to the hilt. He held it there, feeling the gripping tunnel, and he cried out, as he was swept over the edge to orgasm.

Roger was moaning to as he felt his brother's manhood throbbing inside him, squirting hot, thick cum into his passage, filling him with slippery heat. The thrusts became rapid and shallow, ravaging him in the few moments of Mace's climax.

It was like an electric current running through Roger's body, centralized between his legs, under his tail, but rushing up through his body, to his chest and his arms, making his fur stand up.

He turned his head and could see Mace there, pumping into him the essence of his maleness, hunched over, flexed all over beautifully.

"I love you," Mace whispered.

"I love you, too," Roger whispered in return.

And then Mace was still. He relaxed, laying down on Roger, chest-to-back, still buried deep inside him, their bodies joined together. And beneath him, Roger was still as well.

Mike and Rock sat on the carpet, their legs crossed, looking at each other.

"What did you think?" Rock asked him.

Mike wiped his lips. "It was cool," he said. "I didn't know you were gonna shoot or nothin'."

Rock nodded. "Yeah, kinda caught me off guard, too." He picked up a towel, which was laying on the floor. "Let's get cleaned up."

And so they did. All of them. The towel was passed from person to person, and they all sat on the bed together, their warm, satiated bodies touching. There was more caressing, more kissing and more whispered compliments and words of affection.

Finally, when they were too tired to continue, Mace sat on the bed with his strong legs stretched out before him. Roger slid down into his lap, and the two came together in a tender kiss. They kissed once on the lips, then looked into one another's eyes. They kissed again, and again, and then Mace slipped his tongue into Roger's mouth. There was a new intimacy between them which had not been there before their coupling. They had fulfilled their roles to one another, made love, and now there was simply the afterglow.

Mike sat behind Roger, sliding his arms around the smaller tiger. Roger was sandwiched between the two of them -- his brother and his lover.

Rock pressed up against the back of Mike, his big wolf body even darker than the rottweiler. He held him from behind, in the same way that Mike held Roger.

They stayed that way for a long time then, on the bed, just holding each other.

There were no more words, and no answers. There were truths to face and feelings to sort out, but all of that would come later. What mattered to them now were simply the warmth of the bodies and the quiet of the room and the daylight pouring in through the windows.