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Foundations

By Kenneth Beltan

Blake, Quentin, and Nieve are all copyrighted and are owned by Nievelion. I have had permission to use them for this story. All other characters are mine.

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3

The storm raged outside, the thunder booming and audible even through the very thick stone walls and substantial windows in Nieve's office. The large, ornate fireplace kept them warm and cozy. This office was almost like a small apartment in itself, completely private with no windows opening into the corridor that led to it. The ensconsed shelves housed books of Nieve's own selection, many of them in handsome leather bindings. A large, masculine desk sat in one end of the room. It looked to be at least a hundred years old and was in beautiful condition. Quentin had always wanted a desk like this one. An elegant blotter lay on the desktop with an antique inkwell sat next to personalized stationary, yet on top of it was a sleek Apple laptop that still seemed slightly out of place.

Modern technology lacks the the sense of organic design that old things possess, even if these new ones from Apple are much better considered, the Amur thought to himself. It's a great improvement over the appearance of computers only a few short years ago at least.

A large, handsome Persian rug, soft and warm as could be underfoot, laid on the floor. Quentin always wondered how it managed to stay so warm, for in Professor Urquhart's private office, everyone was expected to remove their footwear by the door so as not to ruin his rug. "A habit I picked up living in India for so many years," the lion often explained to people. Quentin was grateful for it, because it somehow made him feel more relaxed in the comfortable, high-back leather armchair in which he now sat across from Nieve. The table between them was square and heavy, its color and feel just as warm and manly as the rest of the room while also being quite elegant in an old-world sort of way. Both men had removed their jackets, ties and vests. Their collars were also unbuttoned, and even their shirts were opened a few fastenings down, revealing their rich, soft fur and letting more musk out into the room.

A truly large pizza was open before them, piled with hearty meats and tasty vegetables. Quentin had found himself surprisingly hungry as he dug in. Their conversation had so far been of this year's concert seasons and what they had thought of the performances they had managed to make. Nieve seemed to be easing his friend gradually into the main topic by giving him some time to eat and relax, and Quentin was most grateful for it. It seemed to have put him in a better move and improved his resolve in spite of what it was about. In fact, he felt as though the whole matter was now only a minor trouble, something that simply required some friendly encouragement to resolve. Not many words would be needed, and then they could go onto more important topics. Inwardly, the tiger had a chuckle. What could they talk about afterwards? Horse racing at the Kentucky Derby, the recent cricket match between Jamaica and Pakistan, the inability of Americans to fashion a proper pub no matter how much they spent on the design and accoutrements? It made him chuckle to himself as he smoked a pipe languidly with his friend over some spiced, hot cider that was very warming and just a bit intoxicating, though pleasantly so.

"What's so amusing, my good tiger?" Nieve rumbled as he took a long, slow drink of his honeyed brew.

Quentin waved it away. "Nothing really. I was just wondering, did Jamaica or Pakistan win in that recent cricket match?"

"Pakistan," Nieve answered. "That match won me a two-hundred dollars, you know." "I didn't know you were a betting man," said in surprise as he took another puff on the pipe Nieve had leant him to use.

"I'm hardly compulsive, but I rarely loose." The lion lifted his nose as he grinned and blew a perfect couple of smoke rings.

"I don't doubt that. I shall always remember to not bet against you."

"Good man. Now, I'm sure there's more on your mind than cricket."

The tiger nodded as he took another sip of cider. "Quite. I was lamenting how impossible it is to find a good pub in this country."

"Such cogitations are hopelessly futile, Quentin. You know that as well as I. This is America after all." A frivolous twinkled gleamed in the lion's eyes.

"By Jove, yes," the tiger said in mild resignation as he closed his eyes, took a long draw on the pipe, and very slowly let out the smoke. "Pity." His body felt so warm and relaxed. His feet were unencumbered by shoes, and he had even taken off his belt for additional comfort. What he would not give to change into his night attire right now or simply pad off to bed with Nieve, perhaps after a little mutual oral stimulation. He gave himself a small grope as he adjusted his genitals.

"Now tell me, my friend, what worries you about Blake?" Nieve asked calmly as he pulled his dessert to him and took a slow bite.

Quentin's eyes snapped open and he sat forward. "How did you know this was about him?" he wondered, his calm mood dashed.

Nieve did not answer immediately as he nodded approvingly at his husband's creation. There was just the right amount of cinnamon liqueur and brandy to compliment everything just so. Edward was unmatched in his confectionary talents. He had also been right about gently warming them by the fire before eating. Every bite was velvety, warm, spicy, and astonishing. Finishing, he finally answered before his friend became cross.

"Quentin, I am a father, too. There is little that can so preoccupy a man's mind than the state of his progeny. Blake is an adolescent and a difficult one at times." He smiled at the look on Quentin's face that marveled at the lion's cool, logical insight. "Mind you, I was only guessing, but then I am extremely good at that sort of thing."

"By Jove," Quentin repeated. "You are indeed." Now that it was come to it, Quentin began to feel less certain about this. Jokes about Jamaica versus Pakistan and British pubs in America suddenly did little to calm his nerves.

Nieve pushed the glass of mousse to his friend and then refilled his goblet of cider. "Eat, drink, and then smoke some more, Quentin. It will calm you back down. You really should not be so cagey and agitated around me. I am your friend, not a judge and jury."

"You believe guilt plagues my conscious?" Quentin responded, his question being couched in tones that made it sound more like a statement. His feline subtlety was asserting itself once more, and he was grateful for it. Nevertheless, he willingly acquiesced to Nieve's imperative to partake of food, drink and tobacco to calm him down. He wanted to be in that serene state that had enveloped him like a warm bath only a minute ago. He started with a good swallow of the warm, wonderful cider. His insides immediately started to calm down again, and he felt even better as he had another smoke.

"Yes," Nieve answered softly. "Your first response indicated as much to me. Whatever the reason, my friend, have no doubt that you are an exemplary and loving father whose son adores him completely even if he sometimes acts otherwise."

Quentin sat in quiet meditation for a while. Nieve's words were touching, and the lion's approval meant a lot to him. He also wanted those statements to be true beyond the shadow of any doubt. He loved his son more than his own life. Quentin openly observed the great lion across from him who was leaning causally back in his chair, smoking thoughtfully and peacefully, and he could not think of a more intelligent face that he had ever seen on a man, nor one so shrewd and whose eyes were so completely compassionate. It was the sort of infinite compassion and tranquility he imagined Buddha must have possessed that instantly made people respect him and love him that even his statues only hinted at in their still masterful way. Nieve was unnervingly insightful man, too, and Quentin suddenly felt sure the lion already knew all his secrets. Yes, Nieve had to be another being of some kind. How else could he be what he was and do what he could do? He gently pushed that last thought aside for the moment. He needed to focus on the here and now, on what was in his heart about Blake, and not his suspicions concerning fantasies about Nieve as a Fey.

"You're right on all accounts, my friend. I love my son with every fiber of my being, but I am finding conflicting feelings coming into that love," the Amur continued. He picked up the spoon sticking out of the large, wide espresso mug and dug some of the delightful-smelling confection onto it. He put it in his mouth and suddenly paused as the flavors exploded over his pallet. He slowly withdrew the spoon, every morsel cleaned off of it and left on his tongue. The tiger moaned softly as his eyes closed. The whole range of flavors and textures came together in the most remarkable way. Never had he sampled a finer dessert than this, and this was not the first one Nieve had shared with him. "Oh God, how does Edward do it?" he asked after almost two minutes of savoring every last bit of flavor before it all melted over his tongue and he was forced to swallow it all down.

"I don't know," Nieve answered honestly. Some of Edward's culinary abilities, both normal and magical, were beyond even Nieve's. Rarely could Nieve even detect the difference anymore.

"I should kill you and marry him," Quentin joked as he took a sip of cider, only to find that it complimented the mousse in it own marvelous and unexpected ways.

"How about you just marry us both, and we can all enjoy each other equally?" Nieve suggested.

Quentin quickly nodded. "Yes, that's a far better idea. Forget I said the former."

"It's the food talking, my friend. I perfectly well understand, though." Seeing that his companion was nearly back to his previous euphoric state, he gently pressed on. "Now, what is the nature of your changing feelings towards Blake?"

The Amur felt too good to be secretive anymore, and all this prevaricating was silly and beneath them both. In fact, it was an insult to their friendship. In that spirt, it finally came out. "I'm sure you've guessed already: I have been lusting for my son for a while now. He is becoming a man, and I am noticing it. I think he may be interested in me as well. Naturally, such feelings are thought to run contrary to all that is decent, and, Nieve, my dearest friend, I need your advice and help. It is becoming too much to bear." Quentin immediately felt all the heaviness leave him, and his mind immediately felt so much clearer that he was astounded he had be coherent at all lately.

The great lion held the Amur's gaze steadily but sympathetically. He had indeed speculated that an attraction may have existed between father and son, having himself noticed Blake's gazes at his father on many occasions. Few were as good at noticing such things as he, for the Barbary lion was an expert flirt, seducer, and lover, dedicated to enlightening humanity to the deeper possibilities of sex. He was also completely cognizant of Quentin's worries, the societal prejudices under which he had operated all of his life, and thus how delicate this was. His immediate intention was to put his friend at ease so that he would continue talking. People left to speak their mind in complete honesty could often come to the answers they needed on their own, but it was with gentle guidance on the part of a wise listener that they could really hope to come to the most fruitful conclusions.

"Blake is indeed turning fast into a strapping young man," Nieve agreed calmly, not a trace of disgust or judgement in his voice. He still kept his friend's gaze. "It is only natural that you should notice as a sexual mammal."

Quentin could not have felt more relieved by that answer. He only hoped that the third degree would not be forthcoming. In spite of his worries, he continued while he still had his nerve. "Biology is not what worries me so much, though. This is my son, who I held in my paws when he was a tiny kitten, who used to chase my tail, who looked to me for protection, who used to run to me when I got home calling 'Papa!' all the way."

Nieve nodded. "I know exactly how that feels, Quentin." He smiled fondly at all the memories of fatherhood, thinking particularly of his belovèd Abhik. "Having a cub so tiny that they may be concealed by just your paws, who take happy refuge in your fur, who curl up with your tail for a nap, whose ears a mother or father might take endless pleasure and joy in licking gently..." He gave a dreamy sigh as he trailed off, his smile full and warm over his broad muzzle. "To be a father... Yes, I know how you feel."

The Amur briefly shared that euphoria before coming back to reality and looking down at his paws, a little forlorn. "Of course, Blake is no longer that little kitten. He is on the verge of manhood, and that changes things, doesn't it?" he asked, by then quite sure of his host's response.

"Yes, my friend, it does," Nieve answered affirmatively, and reached out to take his companion's paw gently and comfortingly. "When our children grow up, we have to come around to thinking of them as men and women and no longer boys and girls. If we don't, we cannot accept them as they are. You cannot hold onto them like that forever. It's very inconsiderate of them, really, to grow up."

Quentin could not help but laugh at that last comment. It was as amusing as it was sad and true, and he had felt it more than once in regard to his own offspring. "My God, yes, it is! How I miss my tiny Blakeson sometimes. I wish he would play with my tail again. I always liked that."

"Did you play with your father's tail a lot?" Nieve asked.

"Of course, I did! It was my favorite toy. My father never tired of using his tail to play games with me. Mind you, I eventually stopped even hugging it as I got older. He was so happy when Blake first pounced it."

Nieve nodded in understanding. The story was the same with is own father, whose tail he still liked to clutch occasionally. "When did you first start to notice your own father as a man instead of merely a father?"

That question surprised Quentin a bit, as he had not expected the conversation to go there or for his friend to guess that about the tiger's own past. As long as he knew Nieve, he never seemed to be able to get accustomed to his uncanny insightfulness.

"I think I was thirteen when it started," he finally answered. "I tried very hard for a while not to think of it. I didn't want to think of any men like that, but it could not be helped. My father, along with a few other men in the family, provided exquisite fuel for my imagination." The two cats chuckled together. "It made my own self-indulgences so much more potent that I never had the willpower to stop them. I eventually just learned to live with them, telling myself that it was merely fantasy and thus harmless. They would never know, and I would take my secrets to the grave. Not even Jennifer knew about them, though I did once let it slip that I had found an uncle attractive as a teenager." Quentin had to blush, both at the memory and at Nieve's grin.

"What did Jennifer think of that?" the lion wondered, still grinning as he picked up his goblet for another sip of cider.

"She laughed. I guess she thought it was pretty innocent as I had only mentioned it in passing." The huge tiger shrugged. "Like I said, my family has a lot of good looking men in it. Still, it was an embarrassing revelation, but it was in a period when she was trying to get me more comfortable with homosexuality. I firmly believe that she knew I was bi repressive of it." Quentin grinned fondly even as his heart ached a bit at his wife's memory. "She was quite intolerant of homophobia, you know. She had always worked closely with the gay community, well aware of the great animosity between them and police most everywhere. Her brother had also turned out gay, and it had caused serious rifts in the family. She stood by him with the most admirable devotion. They had always been fiercely close, and she never discounted the possibility that any children we had could also turn out gay. She was uncommonly perceptive, Nieve." He was not aware of it, but he was squeezing the lion's paw quite firmly as he began to frown again, looking ashamed. "How would she feel about what I am telling you?"

"We cannot know that, my friend. She is not here to tell you," he answered gently. "Pursuing such lines of thought won't be of much use to you either, I'm afraid. You must deal with the here and now, and that means how you and your son feel about all this."

"How she would feel matters to me, though," Quentin protested gently by pointedly.

"I know, dear Quentin. I never meant to imply otherwise," the lion said even more gently, squeezing that stripped paw back. "She isn't here, though, and you can't know how she would have felt. She may have disagreed on this point, but then I'm you two disagreed about other things as well. Sometimes we have to agree to disagree, and since you are the remaining parent, you have to carry on as you see fit. Don't live for the Dead, Quentin. Honor them but do not live for them. To do so is more unwise than you might realize." Nieve's final words were spoken with uncharacteristic gravity.

Logically, Quentin could find no fault with what he had just be advised. What caught him off guard was how serious the lion suddenly was, and for a moment, he could have sworn that he saw in Nieve's eyes the experience of hundreds of lifetimes, caught a glimpse of the wisdom born of ages of hard experience. It was unsettling, even a little frightening. They sat in silence for a long while, the only other sounds being the crackling of the fire and storm strengthening outside. It was a heavy silence, too, and silences were usually comfortable affairs among felines.

Quentin wanted to hang on to how his late wife would feel, and he reasoned there was a very good chance she would have disapproved of his attentions, never mind his desire to carry them to fruition. He could not ignore, however, that Nieve had a very good point about her wishes no longer holding so much weight now that she was dead. He felt cruel conceding such a pronouncement, but her absence indeed changed things. She was not around to disapprove or approve of anything. Quentin then thought of his father and relatives and reasoned that they would not likely approve of his continuing attraction to them, hence why he kept those feelings to himself and had not shared them. Sometimes people had secrets for good reasons. Sometimes people had thoughts or feelings that were socially inappropriate, but they came unbidden anyway. Such things had to be forgivable, and contrary to some opinions, Quentin did not believe a thought and an action were inherently the same thing. In situations like these, self-control and sound judgement were needed. It was the grease that made social interactions work in spite of the random and sometimes obscenely impulsive and irrational nature of thoughts and emotions. One did not have to be a slave to one's ideas or whims after all. Then why was it that some secret thoughts were more socially approved to have than others?

"I don't have any qualms about my erotic desires for my own adult relations, so why am I so upset about them for my son? Why are even such secret desires so forbidden when other ones are more accepted as long as they stay concealed?" the tiger finally asked, needing another opinion desperately.

"They were all adults when you knew them, so it's easy to separate them from being children. You never knew them as such," Nieve explained sagely. "Our children are more complicated. We never stop thinking of them as children, even as we accept them as adults. Think of our feelings for our children as a spectrum which encompasses both their childhood and adulthood. We can even know our children all the way into their old age so that we can complain together about the stinginess of Social Security, or rheumatism making it difficult to get in and out of the subway, or keeping our medications straight."

In spite of himself, Quentin had to grin and chuckle. He knew that to be true, as he had seen his father and aunt begin to have similar conversations. He was grateful that he was still a long ways from having them with his own parents.

"We know our children more fully in some ways as parents than anyone else ever will. Of course, siblings can have an equally intimate knowledge as they grow up together," Nieve continued as he let go of Quentin's paw and took another sip of his cider before lighting his pipe up again. "As wonderful as holding a kitten in your lap is, there is much to be had in the kind of relationship with adult offspring. It allows for many more possibilities, and as they advance, they can relate to you in so many more ways. If we live to old age, we will know our children longer as adults than we did as children. You can also be friends with them after that point usually, which is something you cannot do before they have matured."

Quentin put his elbow on the table and leaned his chin into his paw thoughtfully as he smoked and mulled over Nieve's words. "Interesting. I have not reached that phase with my son, of course. I wonder what it will be like. I certainly would have no objections to our relationship broadening. The question before me, though, is what sex would mean for that."

"So you do you want to explore that with him for sure?" Nieve asked pointedly.

Quentin sighed and nodded slightly. "Yes, I think I would. He is turning into a massive tiger, and you know that I like my men big. I have little doubt that age will make him into quite a burly fellow. If my extended family is any evidence, there are a lot of good genes to go around, and he seems to have inherited them all."

"How would you feel if it only remained a fantasy?"

"I wouldn't mind that very much. Admittedly, if it simply remained that way, I think I would breath easier for sure."

"So what was the event that pushed things to this impasse?"

Quentin grumbled. "Damn it, is there nothing that you do not already know?"

Nieve's ears flattened contritely. "I'm sorry, Quentin. I sometimes forget how much I can annoy others that way."

The Amur reached out and took the lion's paw again. "No, I'm sorry for being cross, my friend. Do forgive me for it. I am not myself of late. And you are right in your conjecture, by the way."

With a friendly smile, the Immortal gave the striped paw an affectionate squeeze. "Of course, Quentin. My dear, dear Quentin."

"How did you deal with your lusts for your own son, if I might ask?" Quentin inquired, resisting the urge to let a feline grin spread over his face just yet.

"We'll get into that later, Quentin. We're talking about you and your son currently," came the Barbary lion's response with a half-grin.

"Aha!" Quentin slapped the table triumphantly. "I finally sussed something out myself." He was now grinning from ear to ear. Deep down, he felt a light growing brighter. If Nieve could make this work, then perhaps there was hope for Quentin and his son, whether or not they ever did anything. He did not have to be a horrible person, mentally sick, wracked with unshakable guilt, or risk loosing his son or his sanity over any of this. It was immensely relieving to think there was a true, workable way forward.

Nieve nodded approvingly. His friend was getting his whits back, and he was now moving inexorably beyond the reach of guilt and despair.

"Now, before I answer your still unanswered query, allow me to make another sussing attempt." Quentin waited for his friend's nod of approval and pressed on with growing confidence. "I think, simply, my fantasies are assumed more dangerous because they are incestuous. Such things are already taboo for some good reasons, though they may be unfounded with our modern ability to completely control conception and birth. With Blake, pregnancy is not an concern as we are both of the same sex. In our case, however, the taboo of homosexuality is superimposed on top of incest, and thus the danger is compounded. I would even reason that because we cannot conceive from any sexual union, that it increases the likeliness of us deciding it is safe to attempt. The sin of fornication is now added to the tally."

"Bravo, Quentin!" Nieve applauded with a proud look. "Surely, though, you had already come to many of these conclusions, no?"

"Admittedly so, though I have never expounded them with such confidence and conviction. I have held back a lot where my son is concerned, and I have never dared utter them to anyone. I have not even shared them in my diary," the tiger confessed.

"Well, you certainly are confessing a lot now, and I admit to being still very interested in the catalyst that brought upon your confessions."

"Ah, yes, that. Well..." He went on the explain, perhaps in more detail than necessary, what had transpired. Nieve proved a rapt audience. "Just seeing him there with his manhood in his paw like that, the closet wall painted white with his semen, the strong body he is developing and broad shoulders, and the raw delight in his own body like that... Oh God, how I just wanted to join in right then and there. It's all I can think about sometimes, and it inflames my lusts like nothing has in a long while." He was hard as a rock in his trousers, and musk was pouring off of him like water from an overfilled basin. His paw was massaging his member through his trousers. He felt himself unable to completely contain himself. In fact, ever since he had started eating that marvelous dessert of Edward's, he had started feeling more lusty. He wanted to stop and just take care of himself, as he was finding it difficult to concentrate suddenly.

"My good man, I think it is not only the erotic nature of the encounter, but its sudden unexpectedness. The naughtiness, the surprise of it, the intense possibilities that sudden and irrevocable decisions could realize, they all contrive to inflame you and serve as extremely efficient fuel for your very fertile imagination," Quentin's friend went on to reason, noticing the growing sexual tension in the tiger with quiet pleasure. His trousers were just as tented, and as he sat back, he had made no effort to conceal the enormous bulge. The room was getting warmer, and he was considering just taking off his trousers.

"Oh, I think you're probably right. Actually, giving in privately to my lusts has been wonderfully relieving," Quentin continued as he tried to regain his train of thought. He also attempted to stop stimulating himself but only succeeded for a few seconds before his paw was back, pulling his zipper down so that he could reach inside to get a more directly grip on his cock. "I've even been hanging out by my dresser mirror in the hopes of catching another glimpse of Blake."

"Pardon?" Nieve asked as he tilted his head in confusion.

"Oh, I recently rearranged my bedroom and discovered the vista my mirror's new position offered," Quentin explained. "It was completely unintentional, of course, but it has so far afforded me many views of my son dashing about naked and in various states of arousal over the last several weeks. I've felt guilty about it, yet I keep putting off moving the chest of drawers with the mirror. Its position is perfect, I tell myself, and the asymmetry that relocating it would create would be undesirable. Deep down, I knew that I mainly wanted to see my son."

Nieve began casually unbuttoning his shirt, gradually revealing his impressive physique. "Has it occurred to you that you may want him to walk in on you just as much as he may want you to do the same?"

Quentin pulled the front of his shirt out a few times to ventilate himself. He was feeling quite warm indeed. "Yes, I have. Especially when I saw that appreciative glance of his. At least, I think it was. He showed no disgust, but then he was so surprised. By Jove, it's warm in here. I'll think I'll follow your lead." He began quickly undoing his own shirt and then noticed that Nieve was standing up to undo his trousers. Soon he was taking them down and simply stood there in his boxer briefs, his huge cock pushing out a mouthwatering mound that was in fact pulling the garment clear away from his body. Looking satisfied and more at ease, Nieve sat back down and put his paw over his groin to gently grope at it while he causally smoked some more. It was all Quentin needed in the way of prompting and quickly shed the rest of his clothes, save for a very tented pair of merlot briefs. "I need you, my friend. I need you badly."

"All in good time, my friend," Nieve said gently, keeping a cool control of himself that Quentin could not believe. "We still have more to discuss. Why don't you lay down on my couch over there? I think you'll be more comfortable, and I can continue to play Freud..only without the sexual hangups." He grinned. "I think you should take off those briefs, though. They are too tight, even if they are fitted, for that erection. You might do yourself a mischief. That is my professional advice, Quentin."

The Amur tiger was panting now, but he complied immediately and shucked his underwear down, thus exposing himself completely to his friend, and went to lay on the couch. Nieve followed him and sat in the leather-backed chair adjacent to it. "Now, we know that your son is like you in that he fancies his own sex. In fact, he seems to have eyes only for other males." A grin spread over Nieve's muzzle that was equally insouciant and proud. "Therefore it stands to reason that there is a possibility that he is. Have you noticed any other signs of interest?"

Quentin closed his eyes as he cupped his balls in one paw and started stroking himself. "Yes, I think so. He seems to always want to chat with me when I'm changing clothes. That's always made me wonder a bit. He also tries not to look at me in the locker room and shower when we go to the public pool. Oh, and he has been leaving his door open lately. Usually he is inclined to keep it closed. I don't know if he's doing it, though, to make me feel comfortable coming to see him without worry or if he's hoping I'll see him again. I don't know, but I have been too afraid to go in most times. I just call to him now, and I can't shake this feeling that he is a bit irritated with me."

Nieve reached out and gently stopped Quentin from further stimulating himself. "Okay, stop, stop. I still need you to have something of a clear head, my dear man. This is important."

"I don't what's come over me, Nieve," Quentin answered horsely, his cock dripping and sometimes shooting pre at random. "Oh God above, I need to rut. I am getting desperate, man!"

Nieve was immensely enjoying this, but he realized that very soon he would have to help his friend satiate himself. Those magical ingredients were potent, and Edward seemed to have had a liberal paw this time. Quentin would not be able to control himself for very long. He would have to have a word with Edward and remind about the ethics of using so much on unsuspecting Particulars. "I apologize, Quentin, but Edward used an aphrodisiac in that dessert. In fact, he used a rather lot more than I was anticipating. I did not intend for you to get like this," he apologized honestly. "I take full responsibility for it."

Quentin just grinned lustily. "I've suspect that you have done this to me a few times, but it was never anywhere near this potent. Tell you what, I'll forgive you if you take of those fucking underwear and get your ass on my cock so I can fuck the hell out of you." The tiger's voice was now a growl, his raunchy side now also coming to bear with his extremely inflamed lusts. His balls were tight with tension, and he knew that it would not take much to just blast off.

The ancient lion sighed in mild resignation, though he was by no means unwilling to placate Quentin's desires. "I suppose there is nothing for it now, is there? All right..." It was an act, but as a feline, he had to play it up just the same. Moving without haste, as if he were just carrying out a procedure, he slowly took down his own underwear and kicked them aside. He gave his balls a quick massage, grateful to be out of his clothes and taking a delighted whiff of his own musk. "Let's get you taken care of, Quentin," he rumbled with a warm smile and strode over to his friend. He positioned himself above the tiger's enormous manhood expertly and began to lower himself onto the hot, well-lubricated shaft. He moaned as he was opened up by Quentin and join in his growls as his rump finally came to rest on the Amur's pelvis. Quentin quickly reached for Nieve's cock and began to feel it up and down, licking his lips and wishing to suck it. In his current position it would be difficult, but they would fix that later. He wasted no time in beginning to buck under the Barbary lion, encouraging Nieve to move in contrary motion. In seconds they were fucking like the pros they were, grunting and moaning as they began their rut.

They changed positions several times with Quentin taking Nieve several ways, filling him with an abundance of hot seed. After several rounds, Nieve took his turn, starting with feeding Quentin orally and then hammering his ass from a variety of angles as well. The office was filled with the sounds of their rut, but there was no one else in the library to hear them, and a storm was raging outside, allowing them to be as unrestrained as they wished. They took a sweet, long time pleasing themselves and each other before they began to feel sufficiently satiated. They would both need further satisfying later. Edward was going to get a work out when Nieve came home, and Quentin paws, mouth and fleshlight would be getting well-exercised before sleep would be able to overtake him that night.

They were cleaning up now in the surprisingly large shower in Nieve's lavish office bathroom. They took it slowly, still engaging in much erotic play. Nieve had given much encouragement to Quentin who stroked a load for the lion's amusement. Nieve did likewise afterwards and soon painted the tiled wall in the same place only a few minutes later. Quentin was still staring as his friend washed his anatomy again. It was difficult to keep his paws to himself, so he maintained a small distance, closed his eyes, and simply enjoy the spray of the shower. He was still hard, though, and he wondered if he would ever be flaccid again.

"How does a sexual relationship change the nature of your relationship to your son?" Quentin wondered, meaning the terms in general and not necessarily specific to Nieve's own offspring.

"Each relationship is different, Quentin," the lion answered matter-of-factly. "As in any relationship, new things change it. As father and son, you two are already quite committed to each other, so even if you were to start a sexual relationship that ends up being disappointing, it won't split the two of you apart. I would recommend that you guard against guilt. If you really feel this is wrong, then don't do it. You should also consider Blake's feelings about this. As it currently stands, you don't have enough proof that he is really interested. What few signs you have noticed may simply be his way of upping the stakes for his own enjoyment. Many of us find pleasure in the possibility of being caught. You may want to test the waters a bit more and pay close attention to the cues your son gives you. If he is interested in you that way, even the slightest overture on your part is likely to be reciprocated with a much more forward and bold response on his part. Blake is still quite young and rather given to impudence and overstatement. It should make sussing out his true feelings easier." The golden lion was chuckling to himself as he finished taking his time with soaping and rinsing his sex and finally turned to properly cleaning his flowing mane.

Unable to keep his paws away completely, Quentin stepped forward and began to assist Nieve in lathering up his crowning glory. It was so beautiful that sometimes he wished that he were a lion. "I don't want my son to think I'm a predator of children, though."

Nieve nodded in understanding. "It used to be more difficult to do that, you know. Establishing such high ages of consent as now exists in some places has led to confusion regarding natural sexual progression and thus outlawing some of its expression. Such is the world we live in, though." Nieve raised his muscled arm and put his paw gently on his friend's shoulder, looking him in the eyes. "All of our children eventually have to confront the reality that their parents are also people, which also means that they are sexual creatures with needs. For some children this is difficult and awkward. They usually get over it quickly and accept it perfectly normal, as it should be." The shampoo had now been thoroughly worked through his mane, and Nieve stepped forward to take Quentin his arms, holding the tiger in his great frame. "Some are not a great deal surprised when they realize it. I think your son may be that way himself. The men in your family are uncommonly sexual creatures, even for tigers. I have no doubt Blake will be foremost so among your extended family." He finally kissed Quentin passionately and long, letting him know that as much as he appreciated Blake, the father was still his primary focus for erotic adventures. "Now as for sheer perfection, versatility and maturity, I think you shall always be unmatched somehow. You are a phenomenal specimen of manhood and cathood, my dear Quentin, and you will always be the Daddy of them all."

The Amur let his ego be stroked just as his cock had been earlier while also taking great comfort in his friend's praise. If Blake turned out just as massive and impressive as he did, Quentin would be more than proud. Still, he liked the idea of always being just beyond his son, not only because of ego but also from a desire to always be capable of being a Father to his beloved son. "Thank you, Nieve. You have made me feel much better so far. Still, I wouldn't mind some tips about how to proceed and find out once and for all."

"Now, now, my friend, you surely don't think I'm going to give you all the answers, do you?" Nieve purred as he touched his nose to the tiger's. "Half the fun is figuring it out by yourself, and besides fun, it is important for yourself and Blake. How do you think he would feel if you read a guide or got advice with intimate details about seducing one's son rather than wrestling with bringing up the idea our of love, suspicion of mutual lust, and a desire to be respectful at the same time?"

Quentin leaned his head back and groaned. "Ethical incest. That is supposed to be a contradiction in terms, isn't it?"

"So many would have us believe, but it does not have to be so, Quentin. Even a majority can be wrong about something, even for thousands of years. You're a scholar, historian, and fellow homosexual, awful term as that truly is. You surely understand this better than many," he answered as he gently rubbed his paws up and down Quentin's back.

The tiger sighed and reached for the detachable sprayer. "Allow me," he muttered as the lion let go of him and allowed Quentin to begin rinsing the suds out of their fur. "Would it really be so bad if a father could approach his son and simply get a yes or no and leave it at that? It wouldn't be so traumatic, would it?"

Nieve laughed. "No, not likely. I have a doubt any son would care to resist you, though. Sons usually admire their father as men if they are good ones, but then are promptly taught to detach certain aspects of manhood from their father's. The results are not ideal even if they are not always calamitous. Manhood and sexuality have always been tightly bound up together, and people have gone to great lengths to either suppress that and convince people it is something else entirely, minimize it and strictly compartmentalize it, or accept tiny wisps of it for growth and then have the boys bury it deeper than just about anything else in their psyche."

"What are your sources for that?" Quentin wondered.

"Lifetimes of experience, my good tiger. I have been an advisor, a wise man, a councilor, a soothsayer, and a scholar. I have studied under some of history's greatest minds, including Sun Tzu, Confucius, the Buddha, Patanjali, Mahavira, Sappho, Plato, Aristotle, Shankara, Al-Biruni, Rumi, Theresa of Ávila, and many, many others. There is one reality, and the wise call it by many names; there is one truth, and it is reached by many paths, Quentin." Somehow the lion almost seemed to glow yet no unusual traces of light could be detected. Naturally, Quentin thought Nieve was speaking figuratively, but then he wondered for just a moment if the lion truly had studied under so many great minds.

"Who said that?" the tiger wondered in awe.

"The Rig Veda," Nieve answered.

Quentin had a fleeting thought as to whether this man had written the Vedas. He reasoned that it had to be the lust and everything else making him think such things. He was slowly going crazy, but at least it was a surprisingly pleasant experience. "Will sex make Blake and me closer? All I really have ever wanted was for us to be as close as possible."

"It certainly can make you close. It's made us close, hasn't it?"

The Amur nodded. "Some people can use sex to deepen their affections. It need not be only romantic. That quite limits its potential, doesn't it?"

Now Nieve nodded, smiling proudly. "Indeed."

"If Blake wants me, maybe he wants me for the same reasons I wanted my father: not only was he an attractive man and a good man, but I wanted to be close to him because I admired and loved him." Quentin looked down a little sadly. "I always knew how proud of me he was, but he was not always good at showing it outwardly. It was that working class upbringing. I think he always wanted to say more than he did, and once in a great while he did. Those moments always meant so much to me. I think it relieved him to see that."

"That is certainly possible of your son. You come from good stock."

Quentin was feeling that confidence again, and his resolved was stiffening to match his penis. "Sex has been demonized by a culture that perceives time in a linear fashion that devalues the present for the sake of a hopefully better future. It's demonized for its wildness, its connection to Nature, for being beyond the control of Man, and for being ubiquitous and yet so intensely personal. Most everyone ultimately has it their way in spite of religious injunction or social conditioning. Because it can be so wonderful and bring such joy, people try to control it by making those qualities suspect and evil, by abusing it to hurt others in order to make them hate it and fear it. On one paw, it can be as casual as a paw shake; on the other, it can be intensely personal. Above all, it is a way many people simply enjoy each other's company while getting a lot closer. How many authoritarian elements want to prevent people getting too close to each other, especially if it makes them less interested in conflict or competition, to make money, to offer fervent prayers, or because it makes them less inclined to be quarrelsome? It is something we all possess that cannot be taken away, something that we all want as much as anyone else, something that can be shared yet is never exhausted or lost. Is it any wonder love and any expressions of it have often been viewed as dangerous over the course of history?"

Nieve was beaming now. "My son, I have taught you well. I'm so very proud of you!" He clapped the tiger on the back and held him close, purring like an engine.

Quentin was a bit surprised by his own speech, and yet he realized that he had learned much of that from his friend. Nieve had done much over the years to open his mind in unexpected ways and to help him heal from the loss of his beloved wife. He had quickly come to consider Nieve a dear friend, but he now realized that Nieve was indeed the very closest and dearest friend he had ever had in his life, not to mention his greatest mentor. To hear that the lion was so proud of him filled him with unexpected joy that rivaled what his own father's approval could manifest within him.

The Amur could think of nothing more to say. Though he was left with many unknowns, he finally realized that only he would be able to fill them all in. Nieve had not had to answer many questions but had as always led him to the answers that were already inside of him. He was a truly remarkable teacher, and Quentin hoped that one day he would be even a fraction of the man the lion was.