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"Yours sincerely, Thornton Blackwell."

It was a regal sounding name, thought Riley Corbin. It was the kind of name a science-fiction author ought to have, pseudonym or not. A smile on his face, the Alsatian held the copy of _Second Place in the Space Race_close to his chest, a newly born autograph penned in black marker just inside the book's hardback cover. For the second time, he cracked open the book and stuck his muzzle in it, smelling the scent of the marker and facetiously vowing that never again would he wash the hand that was shaken by Dr. Thornton Blackwell himself.

Riley's only goal for the entire convention had been completed with the acquisition of that signature. An aspiring author himself, the dog cited Dr. Blackwell as his biggest influence, and his sole inspiration - like Riley, science fiction was his forte, and something he'd had a passion for ever since he was a child. The PhD in Astrophysics was really just a vehicle for a better understanding of what he wrote about, and a six-figure salary to boot.

Riley beamed from ear to ear behind his tight-lipped expression, emotionless in keeping with his usual practice of avoiding garnering perplexed looks from those around him. So he kept his cool; a habit that had taken him all four years of High School and the first two of college to perfect. Needless to say, his social anxiety had seen him through High School a virgin, and had nearly kept him from approaching Dr. Blackwell at the convention he'd finally mustered enough courage to attend in the first place.

Elevator doors parted, the lobby of the convention hotel came into view as did the bar, and so did a mass of attendees, cosplayers rife among their number. Riley blushed beneath his fur, keeping his eyes downcast so as not to be thought to be ogling the cleavage of the attendee straight ahead in the revealing costume. Eye contact alone was a challenge for him, and he eagerly approached the entrance to the bar ahead where Tobias waited with the keys to the car that would take them back to their hotel, a mile from the doors of the convention. They'd sold out of rooms in the main con hotel within an hour of opening for booking, but the trek hadn't swayed the Alsatian - traffic and parking considered, it wasn't the portrait of convenience, but with the autographed book in his hands, he couldn't say he had any regrets about going.

The hotel bar was the picture of a Saturday night. Loud, crowded, and complete with a band that was graciously declining some nerd's requests to play The Cantina Song by ignoring them altogether. Riley's amber-hued eyes scanned the crowd for Tobias, but the dingo was nowhere to be seen. He felt his anxiety begin to crest, and he hugged his book closer to his chest, just the way he would in High School when the bullies reared their ugly heads. Maybe Tobias was just in the bathroom...

He gave it fifteen seconds. Half a minute's time later, he was out of the bar and out the front doors of the lobby, the cool, night air chilling his face in tandem with someone's careless cigarette smoke. Digging in his pocket for his phone, he tapped the screen until it was lit with Tobias' face.

"Hey, it's Tobias; sorry I can't take your call-"

Riley tilted his head back and sighed in exasperation. He found a seat on a nearby bench and drummed his fingers on the cover of the book before opening it again to look at the autograph, still smelling of permanent marker. Option one, he thought; he could return to the parking garage and wait for Tobias, but it was late, it was dark, and it was a strange city. Probably not the safest situation. Option two, return to the convention and mingle, or three, start walking. Ears flat against his head, he turned to look at the windows and the barroom silhouettes behind them. Two of those silhouettes kissed, and he decided he could use the exercise anyway. At least he had his book, and for him, that was reason enough to be happy.

Thirty minutes later, Riley found himself at the doors of the budget-friendly hotel where Tobias' car was parked nearby. The fair-weathered walk had calmed his jangled nerves, and the quietness of the hotel in comparison to the convention kept him going all the way up to the room, where upon the door handle hung a blue and gold striped necktie. Muffled laughing and giggling could be heard on the other side of the door. He frowned. It was his room too; he was paying his share for it. He didn't care what was going on inside, he was going to go in, take a shower, and go to bed. Tobias and whoever was in there with him could like it or lump it, just as soon as he found his keycard. He blinked when he dug into his pocket and grasped only lint. He gutted his wallet - nothing. He frantically checked every pocket of his jeans and hoodie, swearing silently at each one that turned up empty until he even resorted to pulling the case off of his phone, just in case a wily magician had placed it there without his knowledge. Short of stripping nude, he'd given up entirely on trying to find the card and resorted to taking up arms against the tears that were threatening to fall - it was a losing battle. He sniffled and took a seat on the floor just outside the door, pretending not to listen to the cavorting from the other side of the wall while he cracked open the well-worn copy of Second Place in the Space Race to one of his favorite passages.

Commander Welsh, the main character sat at a bar in the cosmos, nursing some sort of space drink in a classic effort to numb his intergalactic travel-related woes. In its own way, it was a comforting read, at least until the fight started, ending with the main character standing surrounded by bodies in seeping pools of alien blood. Welsh was a strong, fearless, well-read, intelligent hero and leader. At least from the outside looking in, anyway. It gave Riley hope for himself. But like Riley, Welsh was a broken soul. A tumultuous and soft interior surrounded by an impenetrable shell of scars and leather-tough flesh. Like any good hero in fiction, he was as flawed as they come. Nonetheless, it gave Riley not only solace, but also confidence even when the world seemed to be falling apart around him.

Riley stood up and turned to the face the door. He set his jaw, raised his fist and pounded on the wooden door, the bangs reverberating up and down the hall.

"What?" Tobias could be heard from the other side.

"It's Riley, let me in!"

"I'm busy!" More giggling. So much for confidence. Science fiction could only do so much. Riley hung his head and laid his ears flat, holding his book in front of his chest in his characteristic way.

"You took the car. I had to walk here."

"Huh?"

"Never mind."

"I'll be out in a minute, just wait a sec!" The dingo shouted back, his speech interspersed with grunts and quietly-uttered profanities.

"I said never mind!"

Riley turned, walked angrily to the end of the hall and down the steps to the ground floor where he exited in haste, not even thinking to ask the front desk for a new card to the room. Thirty minutes of walking had consoled him and burned off the calories from lunch, if it worked once, it could work twice, right?

Thunder rumbled lowly overhead, and the moon could barely be seen for all the cloud cover. Riley felt his anxiety begin to spike, and he picked up the pace, racing the rainstorm to the convention center. It reminded him of the scene where Commander Welsh narrowly avoided collision with an asteroid belt, navigating deftly through the obstacle, weaving in and out of the celestial rocks like a pro. Just when Riley had found the motivation he needed, the skies opened, and the clouds let loose with everything that they had. There was no warning drizzle, no gradual increase in rainfall; there were only sheets upon unrelenting sheets that drenched him in a matter of seconds. He tucked his book up under his hoodie and took off at a full sprint, his soaked tennis shoes splashing through the puddles on the downtown sidewalk. An alcove in the side of a building loomed ahead in the wall of rain, and he decided he would seek refuge from the storm there until it let up enough for him to finish the journey to the convention center. The rain had taken its toll, but the underfunded city's uneven sidewalks had yet to take theirs. Riley had his eyes on the destination, and not the journey. He tripped over a raised section of the sidewalk and pitched forward at full speed, reflexively extending his arms to catch himself and releasing his hold on his book. Second Place in the Space Race bounced clumsily out of his hoodie, and into the gutter on the side of the street, where the rushing rainwater whisked it away from his grasp. Groaning, the Alsatian brushed his hair out of his face and scrambled to his feet, chasing his ruined book and making a spectacular dive for it, only to miss just in time for it to disappear forever down a storm drain.

"No..." He whimpered, his hands trembling, outstretched, "No! No! NO!" He stood up, then knelt down next to the storm drain and hooked his fingers into the grate, attempting to pull it off, but it was a moot point. The book had to have been halfway to the sea by then, but like everything else unfortunate in his life, he didn't want to believe it. Giving up, he collapsed right there on the sidewalk several fruitless heaves later and bawled like a child, wholly unable to cope with what had just happened to the very thing that gave him the mental fortitude to face any adversary.

"No! It's not fair!" He cried, "It's not fucking fair! Damn it! Damn you Tobias, this is your fault!"

Riley was soaked to the bone by the time he reached the convention center hotel. His ears were as low as his spirits, and the look in his eyes was murder incarnate. Rain-soaked clothes and fur completed the frightening picture, and he ambled silently through the lobby of the hotel, attracting stares of all kinds. Jeers. Laughs. Comments. All the things he endured for years in school now no longer bothered him, because he knew he was going to kill Tobias the next time he saw him. A stare caught his eye, and he turned to look at a middle-aged mouse, pushing a trolley loaded down with the usual room service trappings, soap, toilet paper, lotion, and of course, towels, one of which she tentatively presented to the Alsatian, who smiled weakly and took it, his weak smile the only thanks he assumed she'd comprehend - it had always been his sheltered understanding that people in her line of work spoke no English.

"Take two, hon. You look like you need it." She winked and gave him another, which he then used in vain effort to dry himself. He wanted to say it was one of the most humiliating experiences of his life, but it still paled in comparison to the time in eighth grade when Ricky Walcott pulled his shorts down in gym class.

A half hour's time later found him sitting in the employee break room, sipping on hot coffee in a terry cloth, hotel bathrobe while his clothes dried in the laundry. He'd spent months looking forward to the convention. It was supposed to be the best weekend of his life, and in the course of a couple of hours, it had turned into one of the worst. The door opened. He looked up to see the mouse bringing him his warm, freshly laundered clothes with some fresh coffee and a smile.

"Thanks." He whispered, taking the items.

"Sounds like you've already had a hell of an evening. That coffee's sure to keep you up all night. You ought to stop at the bar and get something tall and strong before they close up for the night."

"I'll keep that in mind."

She smiled, nodded, and turned to leave him alone so that he could change. Everything that had happened that evening kept playing on loop in his head while he pulled on his blue jeans and band tee, and as hard as he tried not to allow it, the memory of meeting his idol - like his book - was drowning in a sea of unfortunate events.

By that time, the bar had been mostly vacated, save for a few patrons who preferred their drinks in an atmosphere quieter than that of the club across the street. Might as well, Riley thought to himself; he had yet to take advantage of the fact that he was twenty-one years old now. Inside, a vacant barstool called his name, and he took a seat and stared at the multiple taps on the wall in front of him.

"What can I get you?" Queried the bartender. A simple question for the well-seasoned drinker, an advanced study in social interaction for the introvert.

"Something tall and strong." He answered unconfidently, but unapologetically. Beer just wasn't going to do it for the night he'd had - he knew that much, at least. The bartender, experienced in the art of tall and strong, as well as in first-time bar goers, nodded quickly and went to work pouring jiggers of tequila, rum, triple sec, vodka, and gin into a highball glass, finishing it off with a garnish of lemon. Riley handed his credit card to the cat, who didn't bother asking if he wanted to keep it open. He did, he just didn't know it yet. He sipped at the drink he'd been given, noting that it tasted vaguely like tea. He watched the bartender curiously. Wasn't he supposed to be leaning on the bar, wiping out the inside of the same shaker pint for five minutes while he doled out life lessons to sad drunks? He was right in the middle of a second sip when a familiar voice placed an order to his right.

"Double old fashioned, if you please."

Riley turned to look at the French poodle in the powder blue seersucker suit and bow tie, and promptly did a double take. Dr. Thornton Blackwell was standing right next to him, his hand resting on the back of the chair right next to his. Together, they watched the bartender muddle fruit and sugar into the bottom of a rocks glass, following it with a generous pour of Kentucky's finest bourbon and a splash of soda before sliding it across the bar to the poodle, who turned to face Riley.

"Is this seat taken?" He asked, speaking in his baritone voice, clear and eloquent.

"N-no! Please..." He gestured to the seat in disbelief that Dr. Blackwell wanted to sit next to him, of all people. Every muscle in his body stiffened, and he tipped his glass up to his lips, taking large gulps of his Long Island Iced Tea until it was gone. Dr. Blackwell watched curiously out of the corner of his pale blue eyes, and the bartender smiled as he took the glass and prepared a second at the Alsatian's request.

"Dare I ask how your night has been since our last encounter?"

"You daren't." Riley grunted in curt reply, resting his elbows on the dark walnut of the bar, his chin in his palms.

"Then I shall not." He took a long pull on his drink.

"I lost my book." Riley admitted at last, fighting back tears while the bartender presented him with his second drink, "I lost it out in the rainstorm. I had to walk back from the hotel because my roommate took the car so he could bang some girl."

"I see."

"That book was so important to me! It gave me so much inspiration when nothing else did, I needed that book."

"I presume you are an aspiring author yourself?"

Riley sat back in his seat some, "Yeah. How'd you know?"

"You're a storyteller. Do you know how I know that? You informed me I was not to ask after the details of your evening. So I didn't. But you told me anyway."

Well played, Riley thought. "Second Place in the Space Race is my favorite book of all time. I was practically raised by it. When I was a kid, I used to want to be Commander Welsh. He was the only role model I had growing up. Stupid me, I tripped in the rainstorm and it fell down a storm drain. What are the odds of that?"

"That is most unfortunate. I'm afraid they've already locked up the exhibit hall for the night, but if you come see me tomorrow, I'll be happy to give you a new copy, signed by yours truly."

"Thanks, but you don't understand. That was the first book I ever bought. I saved an entire month's allowance to get it, and I begged my Mom to take me to the store once I had enough. I remember going to the bookstore and seeing the display..." Riley stopped short when he realized he was rambling on about some insignificant detail, and he could just tell that Dr. Blackwell was aching for him to get to the point. It was one of his worst traits, rambling, "...well, I mean, that's a boring story, but you get the picture. I'm sorry to ramble."

"No, no, not at all, dear boy. Never apologize for the stories you have to tell. That's a storyteller's best quality, you know. Every point to even the smallest of tales begs a build-up. It's what makes it interesting! It's what makes it a story." He sipped at his bourbon, "Now, as you were saying, you saw the display?"

"I saw the display, grabbed a copy, and went up there to pay for it. I hand over all this cash; fives, ones, even some quarters." He snickered, "It cleaned me out. But it was worth every penny and then some. I read the entire book that day. Took me until the wee hours of the morning, but I did it. It sucked me in. I couldn't put it down."

Blackwell smiled, "What was it that you so liked?"

"I think it was Commander Welsh. No, I know it was. I admired his resolve, his courage, you know, all the qualities that I wished I had. When I read your book, I could escape into a fantasy world where bullies didn't exist, where homework didn't exist," He laughed, "You know, kid problems." He took a hearty swig of his second drink and wet his lips, "But they stuck with me into adulthood. I always thought that one day I would become Welsh, figuratively speaking. I figured I'd become this charming, debonair outer-space dandy, and that I would somehow apply that to the real world. Obviously, that didn't happen."

"No, of course not. It isn't supposed to."

"No?"

"Not at all. You see - Riley, is it? - Commander Welsh is the type of man who is easy to admire. He's easy to canonize and view as a role model, but the truth is, deep down, he is just as flawed as anyone is. No one is perfect, Riley, and no one likes a perfect hero. Your connection with Welsh isn't on this transcendent level you believe it to be. You identify with him because like you, he's hurting on the inside. Something to remember when you're creating characters of your own."

Riley just nodded and tapped the bottom of his glass on the thin, cardboard coaster bearing the image of two otters on a beach in Mexico enjoying one of the country's indigenous brews, complete with a wedge of lime.

"So what am I supposed to do?"

"Stop expecting so much of yourself, perhaps. Don't hold yourself to the same standards to which you hold Welsh. You set unrealistic goals and you admonish yourself when you don't achieve them. Instead, try setting some short-term goals. Make them simple. Make them easy, and don't expect much of the results. You're not going to be greeted with thunderous applause, but then you didn't just save the universe, now did you? Take them one at a time. They'll add up. And once they do, you'll notice you no longer need to wish you were someone you're not. You'll still admire Welsh, and you'll still be you, the difference then is self-esteem."

"It makes sense, but it's just not feasible. How am I supposed to un-fuck twenty one years of being a doormat?"

"Start with your roommate." Blackwell winked over his glass.

"Tobias?"

"Yes. He's your friend, isn't he? In some form or another?"

"Well, yeah. I mean, we've been friends for years. He likes to give me a hard time, but this is the first time I've ever really been hurt by it."

"So tell him. It'll be good practice. Friends are an easy start, because they know you. I don't know this Tobias fellow, but I would wager that he'd be impressed by your confidence, if you'll simply allow it to show. Let the momentum from one event carry you to the next."

"So what do I do?"

"It isn't that difficult to figure out. Go back to the hotel, march right up to that door and command the respect that you deserve. Let him know what happened. If he's a good person, if he is truly your friend, he'll show compassion. He'll regret his actions and apologize."

"He might apologize, but if he's got who I think he's got in there with him, he's not going to regret a thing in the morning."

"Well, be that as it may, it has nothing to do with you."

Riley nodded and looked down into his empty glass. He declined a third order. Dr. Blackwell motioned for the bartender to put the Alsatian's drinks on his tab, which he paid with a very exclusive-looking credit card.

"I suppose you're right."

"I am. Don't worry about that." He responded casually, penning a generous tip onto the receipt and scrawling a very un-autograph-like signature on the dotted line, "I've experienced enough in fifty-five years to know." He winked again and stood up, smoothing out his jacket and buttoning the middle button.

"Come, I'll give you a ride to the hotel."

Riley didn't say much on the ride over to the overflow hotel. He was too busy mulling over everything Dr. Blackwell had told him to worry about making conversation anymore. A lump rose in his throat when they passed the storm drain where he'd lost his favorite book, but he set his jaw and kept a stiff upper lip. Not because it was what Commander Welsh would do, but because it was what he needed to do. Liquid courage from two Long Islands coursed through his veins, leaving him just buzzed enough to be reckless, but not unaware of the consequences of his actions. Whether or not he would be ready to face them would be another question entirely.

The black sedan rolled to a stop just underneath the little portico of the modest hotel. Blackwell put it in park and twisted in the leather seat to face his number one fan.

"Remember what I said. Start small. Don't overwhelm yourself, and you'll be just fine."

"Thanks, Dr. Blackwell. I really appreciate your help and advice." Riley unbuckled his seatbelt while his stomach churned. His instincts told him to stay seated, and remain so forever. His heart told him otherwise, but the simple act of unbuckling his seatbelt resulted in a burst of anxiety. Again, he squared his shoulders for the ride ahead.

"Don't mention it. Truth be told, I didn't have anything better to do tonight, and they say one should never drink alone. I enjoyed your company." He smiled and held out his hand. Riley went pale underneath his fur and dry in the mouth as he took the author's hand in his own, giving it a firm shake. Riley thanked him again and stepped out of the car, shut the door gently, and walked around to the front door of the hotel. He had to admit that for as badly soured as his Saturday night had been, the experience of having a couple of rounds with his favorite author was one he wouldn't trade for the world.

Riley clutched the new keycard in between his thumb and forefinger, staring at the painted white door upon which still hung the necktie, and behind which laughter could still be heard. This is it, he decided. No turning back now. There would be no downcast looks of defeat, no waiting it out in the lobby - he would be there all night. He took a deep breath, and a few pounding heartbeats later, he plugged the card into the slot and watched the light turn green. The Alsatian entered with a push of the handle and was met with sounds of reprove from Tobias and his lady friend, a snow leopard who he'd seen at the convention, cosplaying as a popular superheroine in a revealing white leotard.

"Hey, what the hell, man?" Tobias protested, pulling the sheets up over him and his date. Riley suddenly felt bad, though he knew he shouldn't. The room smelled inside. It was an overpowering and oddly arousing mix of booze, sweat, musk, and lube. Remember what Dr. Blackwell told you, he said to himself.

"Do you have any idea what kind of night I've had because of you?"

Tobias recoiled, "What did I do? I've been here all night!"

"You took the car! You were supposed to give me a ride back to the hotel once I got out of the exhibit hall after having my book signed, which by the way, I lost out in the storm because I didn't have a way to get back and forth from the convention!"

"Then I'll get you another one. Just get outta here for a second, we'll be done soon and then you can come back in."

Riley's jaw quivered, "No. No, I paid for this room; it's my credit card on file! I'll do what I want here, and if you don't like it, then you can just go elsewhere. I'm going to bed!"

Tobias rolled his eyes. The snow leopard looked over at him, "Um...is he talking to you or me? Because he hasn't taken his eyes off of me the entire time he's been here." She said, and Riley's face flushed with the realization that he had indeed been ogling her ever since he'd entered. Even if she did seem more amused than offended by his staring, it made no difference to him. He brought his hands together in front of him and wrung them, staring at the floor with a gaze too heavy to lift.

"Oh, he's shy! How cute is that?" She cooed, giggling while Tobias chuckled, burying his muzzle into the fur on her spotted neck. "Hey, check these out..." She said, dropping the sheets and exposing her breasts to him. Riley looked up only to freeze on the spot, her vacuous attempt at getting him hard working like a charm. Transfixed on her rack, he stood there with his mouth hanging slightly open in a slack-jawed, dimwitted expression of wanton lust and just a tinge of jealously.

"I think he likes what he sees!" She giggled and cupped her big breasts, squeezing the soft mounds together and bouncing them for the Alsatian, growing painfully hard in his blue jeans. Tobias' hand had disappeared below the edge of the bed sheets, moving suggestively between her legs while she bit her lip in that tantalizing way that only sexy people can pull off. Riley's ears flattened against his skull, and he twisted his hands awkwardly in front of a telltale bulge in the cheap denim, trying in vain to look as though he wasn't attempting to hide an erection. What am I supposed to do now? He wondered. Dr. Blackwell hadn't given him any pointers on what to do in the event that sexual activity began in plain sight.

"Well, um," Riley cleared his throat, "You guys have...have fun." He laughed weakly and turned to enter the bathroom, where he would no doubt shed his clothing post haste and masturbate furiously to the mental picture he had saved in high-res format. It was the best he would ever get, and he knew it. Maybe he would cry when he was finished, but it would be well worth the tears. His intent, however, was not lost on the snow leopard.

"Wait, where are you going? The party's out here." Her voice dripped with a sultry, lustful drawl, one fang still placed cutely over her bottom lip in a coy smile while she teased her nipple and squeezed her legs around Tobias' wandering hand, and her tight, silken walls around his probing fingers.

"Oh, I like where this is going!" The dingo exclaimed with glee, retrieved his hand, folded his pinky and index fingers back and popped the middle two into his muzzle. Miss Snow Leopard threw the sheets aside and stood up, only after pulling the crotch of her thong back into place in a moot display of modesty. Never taking her eyes from the squirming Alsatian, she sauntered quickly across the room, breasts bouncing until she was mere inches from the abashed canine.

"What's the matter, cutie? Cat got your tongue?" Had Riley not been preoccupied with staring at the fine feline filly in front of him, he may have wondered just how many times she'd used that line. She seemed like the uncreative type, he thought, but then again, she had other things going for her. "Come on, don't be shy!" She reached down and took his hands in her own, bringing them up and pressing them up against her bosom, giggling while his eyes went as wide as tea saucers. Riley squeezed her breasts with childlike wonderment, never having had the opportunity to do so with any woman, let alone someone as beautiful as the snow leopard. Her hands snaked around his sides, down his back, and underneath his rear, which she gave a sudden grope, pulling him even closer to her until the bulge in his jeans was pressed right up against her front.

"To whom do I owe the pleasure of tonight's little encounter?" She grinned toothily, running a finger claw gently across his face, around under his chin and down his throat.

"Um. I'm Riley. Riley." Why did I say it twice? That sounded so stupid! He rebuked himself silently, though still entranced by the pair of breasts he was holding. They felt just like he'd always imagined they would, soft, warm, weighty - appropriate for her size. In cheap, off-the-rack denim, he throbbed, and he blushed when he felt the tell-tale wetness of pre-ejaculate on his fur.

"I'm Kinsey. It's nice to meet you, Riley-Riley!" She laughed her cute little laugh again and her hand disappeared between them to curl around the Alsatian's modest bulge. She gasped when Riley's hands gripped her chest a little tighter, and Riley went stone cold sober as the feeling of wetness grew in the form of premature ejaculation. He released his hold on her, and instinctively looked down to see that by the work of some miracle, he hadn't completely soaked his jeans, and was maintaining his erection with minimal effort.

"Is this your first time being with a girl, Riley?" Kinsey asked, and he breathed a silent sigh of relief that she hadn't said anything regarding his little spill.

"Yeah, it only took him twenty-one years!" Tobias called from the bed, where he had been gleefully watching the scene unfold.

"Shut up!" He called back. He didn't have time to be mad, because no sooner than the words had left his lips, he found them occupied with kissing Kinsey, her soft, thin lips pressed gently up against his, which must have been like those of a dead person. Something overcame him in that moment. Riley succumbed to instinct and kissed her back, faltering only slightly when he felt her nimble hands unbuckling his belt - only then did he begin to panic.

Kissing was an innocent enough activity, in spite of the fact that it drew on every reserve of confidence Riley had. He was content with simply making out and copping a feel here and there, but Kinsey obviously had other ideas in mind, ideas which Riley had likely only seen in his wildest - and wettest - dreams. Kinsey whirled about, her platinum blonde, almost silver hair whipping across the Alsatian's face with a tickle as she pulled him along, guiding him towards the bed. Once there, she sat down and licked her lips while she finished with the belt. Tobias got up, still naked as the day he was born, and walked around behind the Alsatian, who rubbernecked nervously.

"What are you doing?"

"Helping!" The dingo laughed, unbuttoning the clasp over his friend's tail, allowing his jeans to be pulled down by Kinsey, who immediately clasped a hand over the end of her muzzle and turned a light pink color. She was trying not to laugh, and Riley couldn't understand why until he looked down to see that a large wet spot had formed in the front of his tented briefs. Tobias craned his neck to see what was going on, and unlike Kinsey, made no attempt to hide his amusement.

"Dude! You jizzed in your whitey-tighties!"

"I'm still harder than you are." Riley muttered, attempting to sound tough while his face burned hot enough to fry an egg on. Tobias looked down at his cock, still swollen in its post-climax, half-erect state, but he wasn't out of the fight just yet.

"Hey, give me a few minutes and I'll be ready for round three, but I'll bet you won't even be able to walk once she's done with you!" He slapped Riley on the ass, making the other dog jump with a yelp, much to the amusement of their feline guest.

Riley wanted to think of something to say in confident rebuttal, but his thought process was cut short the moment he felt his underwear clear his rear and slide down his legs. Kinsey lifted her head and stared slightly agape at the Alsatian's garden-variety erection. Riley was charmingly average, but he gave fair contest to his friend, who only measured perhaps an inch longer than the five-and-a-half inches that bobbed in the air in front of the snow leopard's pretty face. Riley tingled all over. His cheeks burned. The scent in the room sat in his nostrils like heavy syrup, making his head swim and his cock throb.

"Ah!" He gasped, eyes going wide the moment he felt Kinsey's warm, wet mouth close tightly around the base of his penis. She drew her head back, creating a vacuum that threatened to finish him off right then and there, her gorgeous blue orbs gazing up at him the entire time. Those thin, black lips stopped right behind the head, which she suckled teasingly, only to have Riley pull it out and back up a few steps.

"I-I'm sorry, I-I-I don't think I can do this." He stammered out, glancing down at his slick, dripping member.

"What the fuck, dude? Why not?" Tobias chuckled, climbing back onto the bed where Kinsey sat.

"This just isn't how I pictured losing my virginity." He spoke quietly, ashamed of himself while standing there with the hardest erection he'd ever had in his life.

The older, wiser Tobias spoke up, "Bro, that's the dumbest thing I've ever heard. Don't put that shit up on a pedestal like it's something you have to protect."

"Hold on. Riley," Kinsey started in, leaning back on the bed with her legs crossed and glancing at the Alsatian's length, "I just have one question before you go in that bathroom and do the only thing you know how to do with that - do you want to fuck me?"

Riley raised his arms somewhat and dropped them to his sides before answering. "Yeah."

"So if you've got a girl like me who's willing to have sex with you, why would you reduce me to a mere fantasy when you can have the real thing?" She uncrossed her legs. Riley gulped. Tobias moved in to cop a feel, and Kinsey swatted his hand away.

"I guess you've got a point."

"Of course she does!" Tobias interjected, "Don't miss out on the whole point of sex, dude. It's supposed to be fun. And I don't know about you guys, but I'm planning on having a lot more fun tonight." The dingo placed his hands behind his head and leaned back into the pillows, displaying his newly minted erection. Riley pulled his eyes away from his friend and focused on the snow leopard for a few seconds. What would Commander Welsh do? He thought. What should I do? He added, correcting himself. It was time to think for himself, on the fly if he had to. Riley kicked his briefs off of his ankle and peeled his shirt off with the confidence of someone who had a six pack to die for, then approached the bed where he was met with approving cheers.

Kinsey fanned her hair out as she reclined onto the bed in a supine position, her shapely legs spread, Riley's target hidden behind an obscenely small white thong made translucent by the wetness of her sex. He was admittedly unsure of what to do the moment Tobias moved and swung one leg over the cat and straddled her before sliding his cock between her breasts. She moaned softly as she squeezed the soft mounds around his length, the dingo swearing softly under his breath and pumping his dick into her ample cleavage. Riley likened the experience to live-action porn, which gave him an idea - he would call on the memory of every pornographic video he'd ever watched that he could remember, and use them to his advantage. Who knew that they would one day come in handy?

Riley knelt down by the edge of the bed and resisted the urge to touch himself - finishing before he even started would have disastrously embarrassing results. He placed his hands tentatively on the snow leopard's inner thighs and pushed lightly, grinning a little when she willingly opened her legs even further. His muzzle was now inches from the crotch of her diminutive panties, and the scent was driving him crazy. Kinsey's form bounced on the bed while Tobias titty-fucked her, and Riley reached up with a thumb and forefinger, reaching for the panties as though he were about to uncover the secrets of some ancient philosopher. Scent-bound, eyes half-lidded, Riley pulled the panties aside, watching as strings of cum stayed attached to the inside of the crotch like pulling away a slice of pizza. He hooked the fingers of his right hand into the sticky, damp panties, keeping them well away from what they previously covered, and the fingers of his left hand were splayed out on her thigh, opening up an avenue for him to do something he had absolutely no idea how to do in the first place.

"Gotta start somewhere." He told himself, took a deep breath, and went in for the kill. Kinsey's back arched and her whole body seemed to go stiff for a few seconds the moment Riley dove in, thrusting his tongue into her dripping sex, waggling it up and down in the pink slit. He didn't know it, but he was using his long, rough tongue to his advantage - or was the advantage hers? - When it came to making her moan. He paid special attention to the area where he assumed her clitoris was, and had no bones about stuffing as much of that tongue as he could into her tight passage. It tasted faintly sour, and had a slightly salty note to it, but far be it from Riley to know; he'd never considered himself a connoisseur of eating pussy. Kinsey's moaning had grown quieter, muffled even. Riley looked up only to catch a full view of Tobias' ass, but below that lovely picture, between his legs, was quite another. The dingo had pulled himself out from between her breasts and was now in a sort of push-up position above her, holding on to the bed's headboard while he thrusted his length into her mouth.

Riley needed to break for air, so instead of continuing to hold Kinsey's panties aside, he grabbed them by the strings that kept them on her shapely hips and pulled, sliding what little there was to them off. He held the soiled panties in his hands and wondered for a moment if there was some way he could sneak them home as a little memento of his first ménage a trois. Tobias and Kinsey were saying something, and the Alsatian's ears swiveled towards the sound.

"Get up on the bed." Kinsey instructed, and Riley dropped the panties, climbing up onto the bed and lying down on his back, heart pounding in his chest. Kinsey got on all fours in front of him, looking down at his erect penis, twitching and oozing pre-cum onto the light tan fur on his belly. Wasting no time, she grabbed it by the base and held it upright before sliding her muzzle over it again, warm, wet, and tight. Riley grabbed handfuls of the sheets and instinctively bucked his hips up into her mouth, receiving a noise of appreciation from the snow leopard. Though it may have been for Tobias, who had positioned himself behind her and was now bucking his hips, pistoning his cock in and out of her pussy. She moaned in broken rhythm with Tobias' thrusts, every sound sending vibrations down the Alsatian's twitching shaft.

"Hey, Riley." Tobias grunted from behind Kinsey, "How'd my cum taste when you were down there?"

"Oh, you son of a bitch!" Riley gasped, ending his sharp retort with a dull groan when Kinsey went all the way down to the base and swirled her rough, feline tongue around his flesh. "I'm gonna...kick your ass...when we get back!" He panted heavily, feeling every muscle in his body tense up. His balls drew up closer to his body, his abdominals clenched, and he sat up some, only to watch heartbroken as Kinsey lifted her head out of his crotch.

"Don't finish on me yet, cutie. We're not done here." She winked, her comment the only cue Tobias needed to pull out and get back onto the bed. She didn't want to suck either of them to orgasm - at least not yet. With Riley's throbbing member sufficiently soaked, she crawled up towards him until their muzzles touched.

"You ready?" She whispered into his ear, giggling as it sprung backwards to lay flat against his skull. Riley could only nod, as his mouth was far too dry for him to articulate. Kinsey reached down between her legs and grabbed his cock again, holding it upright so that she could sit on it. Riley's mouth went agape and he tossed his head back, afraid to watch for fear of prematurely blowing his load. He felt his tip slide in, followed by the rest of his shaft, and for several moments, he just sat there, reveling in the feeling of being inside her. It was warm, wet, and oh-so-tight. He never wanted it to end, and it hadn't even begun. Tobias grinned and positioned himself behind Kinsey, lining himself up with the one available hole.

"Go for it..." She whispered, bit her lip and squinted as Tobias pushed his way inside, groaning aloud as the tight ring squeezed around the base of his erection. "Try and match the movement, this is where it gets a little tricky." She giggled and winked at the Alsatian, who started to buck and roll his hips in time with the rhythm they were creating. Behind Kinsey, Tobias started to thrust fast and hard, pistoning his pulsating length up and down in her ass. The entire bed rocked with their movement, and Riley fought back as hard as he could against his own climax. Kinsey's big breasts bounced with every revolution, her pert, stiff nipples brushing up against the Alsatian's chest. He watched this with glee, but avoided burying his face in her inviting cleavage, knowing the dingo's dick had been there not minutes prior. He silently cursed Tobias yet again, but he wasn't going to complain too much about the position he was in, even if the dingo's balls were bumping into his shaft.

Once Riley got in tune, he picked up the pace and started going a little harder, though still holding back for fear of hurting her in his naïveté. With every buck of his hips, he slammed his modest dick into her warm passage, feeling the tight, silken walls part around his flesh for a moment until it slipped back out, and started all over again. With every drop of Riley's hips, Tobias pushed his in, spreading that tight, anal ring around his girth and listening to the snow leopard cry out in ecstasy. The simultaneous in-and-out motion pushed her over the top. She screamed and proceeded to ejaculate all over them and the bed, nearly going limp on top of Riley, her breasts pressed up against his tawny chest. Both Riley's and Tobias' balls and thighs were sprayed as she squirted. Riley's thrusts became more fluid with the sudden increase in lubricity, and he pumped his cock faster, harder and deeper into her pussy while the dingo continued to rail her ass.

"I don't know how much longer I can hold it!" Riley blushed.

"I'm getting there too..." Tobias panted. Kinsey fought her way out from between both of them, their slick, pulsating dicks slipping free of her holes when she did. Brushing her hair back, she took up a kneeling position on the carpeted floor, and the dingo leapt off the bed. Riley followed suit, and Kinsey took both of their cocks in her hands and brought them together in her muzzle, sucking them both off at the same time. Riley was initially mortified by the feeling of his penis being not only in the same place as Tobias', but also rubbing up against it. The dingo didn't seem to mind. He wasn't even watching.

Tobias was the first to cum. Riley gasped as something warm and wet flooded the muzzle his dick was currently in, and once the dingo had finished, he had it all to himself. Kinsey closed her spunk-filled muzzle entirely around the Alsatian's dick and kept that vacuum going from base to tip. It was slimy, hot, and felt unbelievably amazing. So amazing in fact, that when Riley finally climaxed for real, he nearly blacked out from the orgasm that accompanied it.

"Oh, oh shit..." He gasped out, panting while Tobias jumped in to keep him from hitting the deck while he came in Kinsey's mouth. Fellatio wasn't something the snow leopard was unused to, but it wasn't often that she did it with a guy with such voluminous output. Riley twitched in her maw, releasing spurt after spurt of his hot, canine spunk into her mouth. She swallowed, but the next wave was well on its way by the time she was able to swallow again. She gagged, coughed, and pulled her face out of Riley's crotch, sticky, white goo dripping from her chin down onto her breasts while the last few streams of the younger dog's impressive climax landed with a splatter on her face.

Panting, Riley stumbled backward and fell into a sitting position on the bed, his cock still bobbing one time with every beat of his heart. A single strand of semen drooled from the slit in his tip, landing on the carpet and contributing to the stereotype about hotel floors. Tobias stood glancing up at the ceiling, also panting, and his hands rested on his hips. He looked as though he'd just run a marathon, and in an odd way, he sort of had. Kinsey looked a fright, her face, chest, and inner thighs coated in the juices of three people. Giggling, she speared a glob of ejaculate from off her chest and popped the finger into her mouth, glancing back and forth between the two men.

"So. Was it everything you thought it would be?" Tobias asked of his friend, who could only nod in response. It was several seconds more before he'd regained the ability to speak.

"I guess so."

"You guess so?" The dingo responded indignantly, "You just got laid for the first time, what are you talking about?"

"Oh, well, yeah. That was amazing. I thought you were talking about the convention."

Tobias looked at him incredulously, "Why would I be talking about the convention?" He hadn't wanted to go. He'd only agreed to because Riley didn't want to go by himself, and he'd managed to convince the dingo that there would be girls like Kinsey there. Turns out, he was right. Kinsey excused herself to the bathroom so that she could clean up.

"Yeah, you're right." Riley admitted, visibly downtrodden. Tobias cocked his head.

"I mean, you still enjoyed your convention, right? You met some cool people, had a good time?"

"Up until I lost my book in that storm out there." He responded sullenly, ears back like they usually were. Tobias scratched his nose with a thumb and forefinger, looking down at the floor.

"I'm sorry that happened. I guess I got a little carried away when I met up with Kinsey. I'll make it up to you, dude. I promise."

"Well...thanks. I guess...I mean, it's just a book, after all."

"But it meant something to you."

"It did. It meant something to me in a way that I don't think you would be able to understand. But you know what? The more I think about it, the less it means." Riley looked up to meet his friend's eyes, silently and secretly vowing that he would no longer use literature as a crutch to crawl his way through life. "But all in all, I really appreciate you coming to the convention with me."

"Hey, man. That's what friends are for."

Riley smiled, "Yeah. I would hug you, but..." He gestured to the fact that they were both still naked as jaybirds. Tobias laughed.

"Yeah. I think you ought to go clean up." He winked. Riley turned towards the bathroom, where the shower could be heard running.

"But Kinsey's in there."

"So?"

Riley's gears finally engaged and started to turn, and he looked at Tobias with that sly grin that friends every so often give one another as if to suggest they know exactly what the other means. The Alsatian brushed his hair back in a poorly executed attempt to look cool, and headed off to the bathroom, where he entered with a cute little knock and shut the door behind him. Outside, the dingo laughed and shook his head. He wiped himself off with a towel, pulled his underwear on, and turned on the TV.

When Riley awoke the next morning, he was alone. There was no Tobias, no Kinsey - no one. It was Sunday, and check-out was at eleven AM. Riley glanced at the clock, where the time read just after ten-thirty. Tobias' bags were packed and waiting by the door. Maybe he was downstairs checking out at that moment.

He sighed and swung his legs over the side of the bed, planting his feet on the carpeted floor and standing up with a groan. His back and hip flexor muscles were a bit sore, and he instantly remembered why - last night! His eyes went wide, and he wracked his brain through the morning fogginess that surrounded it for the memory of having a threesome with Tobias and a girl from the convention. Kinsey? Was that her name? It hadn't been a dream. It couldn't have been; the smell of their little soiree still lingered in the air around him, though not nearly as potent.

Riley packed his things slowly into the one suitcase he'd brought along, and lamented the fact that he was not packing the book he'd brought with him for Dr. Thornton Blackwell to autograph. Again, he told himself that it was only a book. A book he'd used for a crutch, a book that the author himself told him he didn't need. Still, he thought, it would be a nice thing to have for memory's sake.

Downstairs, the lobby was abuzz with the rest of the people who had signed up for the convention a little too late. Taxi cabs were outside, waiting to take people to the airport. A luggage cart sat behind Riley, carrying both he and Tobias' luggage. He'd wanted to go to the convention for one more day, but their flight left early, so they opted to skip Sunday for the benefit of work on Monday. He was just about to call Tobias when the dingo appeared in the doorway of the hotel, walking towards him with a restaurant bag in his hand. Ah, breakfast. How thoughtful.

"Hey bro. I got you something."

"Thanks man, I was pretty hungry. Woke up a little late and missed the breakfast buffet." Riley laughed, watching as Tobias reached into the bag.

"Ta-daaa!" He exclaimed, pulling from the bag a pair of underwear. Not just any underwear - the white thong Kinsey had been wearing during their little party last night in the hotel room.

"What the!" Flustered, Riley blushed and snatched the panties from the dingo's hand and stuffed them into the pocket on his hoodie, glancing around furtively in the hopes that no one saw. "I don't guess you have anything to eat in there?"

"No, sorry. We'll get something when we get to the airport. What I really wanted to give you was this." Tobias reached into his bag of goodies once more and pulled out a hardback book, the back cover of which bore the face of Dr. Thornton Blackwell himself. Tobias turned it over, and handed it over to the Alsatian, who took it gingerly in his hands and read the title aloud:

"Red Dwarf Diaries. Doctor Thornton Blackwell, PhD."

"He was out of Space Race, or whatever the other one was called. I thought you might enjoy this one. Well, he did, anyway. I don't think it's something _I'd_read, but, you know."

Riley said nothing; he simply threw his arms around the dingo and pulled him in for a hug, one that Tobias reluctantly, but graciously accepted. It was the least he could do, all things considered. As far as Tobias was concerned, they were even, and Riley knew it. He wasn't going to press the issue any further, and besides, he had nothing to be angry about.

"Oh, open it up. Read the cover on the inside."

Riley opened up the book and turned to the first blank page on the inside of the book, where written neatly in cursive with a fountain pen was a personalized message.

"Riley,

_ _

_ Allow me to first say what a pleasure it was meeting you last night. You are an incredibly bright, well-spoken young man and I wish you all the best in your writing career. Keep your chin up; good times are on the horizon."_

_ _

_ _ Riley felt a lump swell in his throat, and he smiled through the fit of tears he was fighting back when he read the last line under his breath. What a guy. For the first time in his life, he no longer felt like he was in second place.

"Yours sincerely, Thornton Blackwell."