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The Secret Ingredient

Boy did I love pancakes. When done properly, and these were done perfectly. I closed my eyes as I forked another piece of the spongey breakfast into my mouth. It was sweet, but not too sweet with a hint of what I thought was nutmeg. I had never put nutmeg into pancakes, but it was working for me as my stomach demanded more. I didn't even put syrup on it, only a square of butter to keep it nice and moist.

I had found the pancakes on the kitchen counter, steaming and just waiting for me to indulge myself in their squishy flesh. Oh god, how could something like pancakes become orgasmic? I felt my white tail flutter beneath the chair, my paws were trembling, my heart pounded in my chest, they were that good.

"Enjoying yourself?" A red fox with a white chest and two small black marks on either side of his muzzle walked in from the living room. He was rubbing his head fur with a towel and was wearing nothing but his Superdog boxers that made the popular comic book hero was punching his junk.

"Hell yes." I said, my mouth still full and drank some milk to help it go down. I gulped it down, feeling some milk trickle down my lips. It was hard being a canine in a mostly human world, cups were not made with us in mind. I wiped the liquid off my cheek and patted my damp paws on a napkin. "How did you learn to make these?"

He chuckled and walked past the pancakes towards the refrigerator. Was he not going to partake in his masterpiece? More for me. I slid my chair the two feet necessary to close the distance and just grabbed the plate with the stack of four on it.

"I told you before. My mom used to work at a diner." He opened up the fridge and sifted through it, his red, frizzy tail sweeping behind him. He wasn't completely dry yet, it took a lot of effort to completely dry fur after a shower. Most of us Anthros just went a few days or even as long as a week between showers. Baths are not advisable. I could see the outline of his rump darkening through his boxers and he reached back and pulled out a wedgie he was getting without shame, though I looked away with red ears.

"She learned how to cook all kinds of food." He backed out of the fridge with the milk jug in hand and a few eggs along with the bag of bacon that was half empty. "She taught me all kinds of recipes." He dumped everything onto the counter and shuffled over to grab one of the pans that were hanging on some hooks nearby.

"Well you'll have to teach me sometime." I looked down at last of the pancakes and quickly slid a bit of butter between each one, still steaming, with my knife and gave them a second to melt it down and get soaked into them. "I've never had pancakes like this before."

"And you won't ever again, not from anyone else." He hummed and turned the stove on, the small blue flames igniting when he turned the knob.

We lived in an older apartment. When I first found it, I was surprised that it still operated on gas, almost everything was electric now, but somehow the owner of the building, a grumpy old badger that talked about the 'old days' had kept everything up to code enough that the city didn't force him to change them out. If he did, it would be expensive as hell to tear out the pipes and replace them with appropriate wiring.

The place was nice, very homey with wood floor, slightly off colored white walls. There was a bathroom, two bedroom, a pretty large living space, fully stocked kitchen, it might as well have been a small house and it costed like a small house as well. On my salary at Costco, which I admit was pretty good for a cashier, I would never have been able to afford, but I really wanted to live here, it just felt right, so I went to Craigslist.

A lot of people answered and I spent the better part of my day off interviewing people, talking to them over the phone, skyping or meeting up in person. Lot's of weirdoes, all of them were weirdoes, but Francis here, this fox who was now making perfect over scrambled eggs, he seemed like the best. That was before he moved in, I learned some more about him shortly after he settled down.

I never believed the old stereotypes about foxes. You know? Blackholes, no internal organs, an insatiable craving for anything phallic and to shove it into them. Francis set me straight. Uhh, not the best choice of words.

Wasn't long before he pulled out one of the largest dildos I had ever seen, a dragon one at that. Dragon's didn't even exist, how did he know it was a dragon? I learned to live with it, he paid rent, kept the place clean and wasn't a sore either. He kept his activities to his room, he had only done something once in the living room. Let's just say that we don't talk about it and neither does the buck, whose name I didn't catch.

Then slowly, he became more bold with me. He was polite, courteous and great to talk to. He had a great sense of humor that always got me cracking and could hold an intelligent conversation for hours on end. He was smart... And devious as well. The conversations slowly, very slowly mind you, turned more and more lewd. Comments here and there that I could pass off as 'bro talk.' His favorite joke was the age old 'fuck, marry, kill.' He would pop it and I would answer. I knew the game.

It started with celebrities, random people on the street and then it turned to me. He asked me one day when we were on the couch watching the game.

"Fuck, marry or kill?" He asked, whiskers twitching, his eyes watching the ball get thrown for a solid thirty yards for the first down.

"Who?" I replied back, munching on some chips.

"Me." He said it so casually that I didn't even catch it.

"Fuck it." I replied just as plainly and then stopped. I dropped the corn tortilla chip that landed on my gut. I looked over to him and he had this grin on his face. He didn't look at me, but his paws were going down to his crotch.

I didn't believe what I had just said. I didn't think of myself as gay, it had never crossed my mind. Then again, I had never crossed the possibility off either. I had just gone through life with no assumptions and now I had suddenly said that I would prefer to fuck this fox than marry him and come on, I was no killer.

What I had said didn't feel wrong either, it felt rather natural in fact and I didn't stop him from pulling his pants down. I didn't stop him when he did the same to me, nor did I stop him from kissing me, stroking me, pulling me to his room where his frightening collection of silicon cocks watched me shove my cock straight up his ass, his bottomless ass, all the way to the knot and dump my hot load right into him while he moaned and begged for more.

I didn't stop myself from doing that three more times that night, the next night or the rest of the week. No one stopped us.

Now it was nearly a year later and we were both comfortable with our positions in each other's lives. We weren't dating, not at all. There was no hand holding, long walks on the beach, just a look and then right to the bedroom, or the living room, wherever. I had to admit, the most thrilling place was one of those bathroom in public that had a one way mirror. Some artist had set it up right in the center of town and somehow, we both got in there without anyone noticing, or at least no one who spoke up.

It was almost terrifying enough to make me lose my erection, but his insistent rubbing of his ass on it made sure that it didn't lose any of its hardness.

We watched the oblivious people walk by as his face was plastered to the side of the wall, mere inches away from some girl who was using the reflective outside to put on some makeup. Only if she knew that Francis was grunting, getting his ass slammed by me as I pulled my knot out of him, only to push it back in, making him whimper and whine, begging me to knot him. That was a good day.

Now I was staring at his ass sway back and forth suggestively. He knew that I liked to watch him at work. He gave me a little show, using his tail to wipe back and forth as he shook that small little, but very deep, booty of his in small circles as he placed the strips of bacon on the pan right next to the eggs to let the grease season the eggs.

"Now why is that? Why aren't I going to get these again?" I asked and looked down. They were almost gone now, there was just a half of a pancake left, the one that I had put the most butter on. I was feeling pretty full at this moment, but they were just too good.

"Not from anyone else." He raised his spatula and waved it. "It's because of my secret ingredient that I know no one else uses." He flipped the bacon, it was sizzling, sending little bits of popping grease rocketing upwards and onto Francis' fur. Since he had just taken a shower, he would be smelling like bacon for days now.

"Is it nutmeg?" I asked and took another bite. Only one quarter was left, making feel a little sad to see them go. You ever come across something so nice that you didn't want to see it go, even if it was something like food?

"No." He shook his head and pulled a plate out, putting a paper towel on it before placing the bacon on top of that to let the paper towel soak up the excess grease. "It helps, but it isn't the secret." He then placed his eggs, yellow with some goldening next to the bacon. He went back to the fridge and got some cheddar which he sprinkled onto the eggs and then sat down.

"The what is it?" I finished off the last of the pancakes.

"It's a secret for a reason." He grinned a grin that made me knew that if I kept pushing, he would tell me. It was like the first time he played 'find the keys'.

I was in a rush to go to the movies. A new Marvel movie was coming out and I had advance tickets for an early screening, courtesy of a small sweepstake that I had won at work. The manager had gotten a single ticket somehow and had held a friendly competition to see who could get the most customers rung out in a day.

I had never worked so hard or so fast. I scanned so many barcodes that the sound of the 'beep' was ingrained into my very being. I had won though, by just two last minute customers.

"Where are my keys?" I yelled out bewildered. They weren't in the small bowl I had set by the front door on a nice table my mother had sent me. They weren't in my jeans from the previous day, I couldn't find them.

Then there was Francis on the couch. He had a grin on his face.

"Where'd you put them?" I stood in front of him, my paws on my hips. He was in his boxers, these ones were Cat man, kicking his junk.

"What?" He wiped the smile off his face and looked up at me.

"Don't do this." I tapped my foot on the floorboards. "Where did you put my keys? I'm going to miss the showing."

The smile returned. It was a devious smile. "Why would I know?" He shrugged. "Have you checked that little blue bowl of yours?"

"That's the first place I checked." I quickly glaced at my watch. I had time, but not much. Traffic was always bad no matter what time of day it was and I wanted to be early to get good seats. "Now give them to me." I held out a paw to him and frowned when he didn't move.

"Have you checked..."

"Yes." I said and huffed and quiet growl. He was never like this. He could be playful, but he knew how much I had been looking forward to today. "I've checked everywhere."

"You sure?" He said slowly and turned off the television.

"Ev-very-where." I said slowly.

"How about..." He thought for a moment. "Up your ass?" He smirked.

"Oh my god." I rolled my head back. "I don't have time for games."

"How about up my ass?" He tilted his head.

"No." I said, my face draining of color. "No. No."

"Oh yes." He got onto all fours on the couch. "You want them?"

I bit my lips when he brushed my nose with his tail.

"I know you do." He wagged his butt and raised it to the air the way he did when he was really horny and wanted me to fuck him good. "Going to have to get them the old fashioned way."

I looked at my watch one more time before pulling it off and tossing onto the ground and rolled up my sleeve. I went over to the desk that had his computer on it and opened up the drawer. There was, of course, a dildo there, thick and too long to properly comprehend. Next to it was lube. He had lube in a lot of place.

"I can't believe I'm doing this." I opened it up and squirted some of the clear, cold stuff onto my hand. I was going to stop there, but then again, I knew just how deep he went and then squirted some on my arm.

"But you are." He was tenting, it was amazing how excited his was. There was already a large wet spot on the front of his boxers right were Cat Man's foot was kicking.

I pulled down his boxers to his knees and was met with the sight of his loose pucker. It was already gaping a little, a true black hole. That meant that he had been playing with himself, there was no knowing how far up there he had buried my only set of keys.

"Better hurry up." He said seductively and I slid a finger into him. He pushed back onto my hand and I was up to my knuckle just like that.

I went slowly, moving past my wrist, feeling around his warm, slick insides as I searched for my keys.

"You'll have to move faster than that." He said and he was right. I didn't have all day to tickle his prostate like I was. Chances were, he put them up as far as he could without permanently losing them.

I pushed forward, enough that he barked and his face was pushed into the back couch cushion. My arm made lewd slick noises as I went up to my forearm. Jesus, how far could I go. His insides, a wet tunnel that was somehow always spick and clean for me, clenched as he work those muscles, that no one else knew how to control, around my arm.

He had his tongue out, lolled to the side when he pulled his muzzle out of the cushion. How could someone like this so much.

"Where did you put them?" I said, bewildered. I was getting close to having to roll up my sleeve even more. I had seen him hilt a horse dildo before, the ones that are as long as my arm. Yeah, I may still have a long way to go.

"Right here." He said and raised up a hand and on the tip of his claw was my keys.

"Fuck you." I said and pulled my arm out fast. He grunted loudly and blew his load right onto a towel that I had failed to notice that he had been sitting on. I snatched the perfectly undefiled keys from him and stormed off. It took a moment to clean off my arm, but I made the showing. The entire time I was there, I ate popcorn with my left hand.

"Come on." I pleaded. I had been guessing for some time now. I couldn't think of anymore spices and I believed that I had guessed everything in the house that could be put in pancakes. I even guessed the bacon that he was eating right now.

"You really want to know?" His ears flicked and he folded his hands under his chin. That damn grin, I almost didn't want to know, but the pancakes were too good to not to know.

I shook my head up and down.

"Okay then." He leaned back. "Remember that you blew me off last week?"

I don't know what that had to do with pancakes, but I did remember. Even a bottom such as Francis needed to be relieved every once in a while and I was fair.

Francis had been unusually stressed that day. Maybe it was work. He worked for a record company that sold its services to advertising companies. They made little jingles and took music, splicing it into pieces that could be used to sell anything from cereal to work out equipment. He spent hours everyday on a computer, trying to get the songs to sound right. He complained sometimes about impossible deadlines and unreliable clients that weren't specific enough about what they wanted.

He was moody, storming around the house and just not talking to me. It was so unlike him to be like this and I approached him.

"What's wrong?" I asked him, knocking on his door. I felt like some father coming to comfort his son who had just lost a sports game or had been dumped.

"Nothing." He didn't yell, he sounded a little depressed.

"You suck at lying." I said. "Didn't even have to shove my arm up your ass the second time to know that you were just sitting on my keys." He liked that game too much and I tried to call his bluff whenever I could, until the time he wasn't bluffing. I was really mad that time and got some new keys that I kept in my wallet at all times.

No reply.

I walked in and he was on his bed, no boxers this time. He was completely nude, lying on his bed spread eagle and looking up at the ceiling. He didn't tell me to get out so I walked over to the edge of the bed and sat down.

"Come on." I patted his knee. I really did feel like some father at this point. "We live together and if you mope around like this, it's going to get me all mopey as well."

He sighed. "Do you like me?" He asked. What a strange question.

"Of course I do." I replied. "You're a great roommate. You keep clean, you cook, you occasionally get in the way, but no more than anyone else."

"Do you see me as just some tool?" It shocked me a bit to hear him say that.

"Tool?" I asked. "No. No." I shook my head and he peaked over at me. "What would you make you think that?"

He shrugged. "Some guys at work... They said some stuff."

"Is this high school or something?" His ear flattened a little and I quickly moved to take back the comment. "What did they say?"

"I overheard them talking about me." He thrummed his fingers on his white bed sheets. 'Makes it easy to hide stains.' He claimed.

"And?"

"They said I was just some sex toy, a tool for whoever could get their hands on me."

We had been having sex a lot, A LOT and thinking back, I had been instigating more often now. Work was stressful, the holiday shopping spring had just ended and I was on the butt end of getting off of the extra hours. It pissed me off to see less experienced people get better shifts so much sooner than me while I continued to work midnight.

I suppose I had been using Francis as a source for release, but I never thought that it had been affecting how he thought of us. He always seemed so willing to let me do what I wanted with him.

"No." I shook his knee.

"All the sex." He rolled away. "I've always bottomed. I thought that I liked to bottom." He was talking to himself now more than me. "I do like to bottom, but..."

"How would you like to try something different then?"

His ear perked. "I don't..." He seemed a bit flustered. Was the idea of topping so alien to him?

"You can." I leaned forward and slowly crawled up his legs and rolled him back onto his back. "Let's take it slow. First step of topping is receiving a good blow job, instead of giving one."

He watched as I got down low, rubbing my chin up the valley that his legs made. His fur was soft, he liked to keep it silky and went through so much conditioner in a month, almost more than the amount of lotion or lube.

I reached his balls, I could smell his conditioner, a pungent, flowery aroma that burned my nose a little. I bumped his sack with my wet nose and he took a breath in. His toes curled, raking my belly fur, it felt good. Maybe I had some sort of foot fetish. Would have to try it out at some point.

My tongue slid out of my mouth and gave them one good lap. His fur here was even softer, being short, but lush, it tasted a little bit earthy. He hadn't showered perfectly, there was still that slightest hint of maleness on him and it made something stir in my pants.

I looked up, appreciating the view of the mounds that was his balls, the peak that was his sheath and his amber eyes looking down at me, unsure, but not disheartened.

"You like it?" I spoke, breathing across his groin and bringing up more of that scent of his.

He nodded and a bit of pink poked out from its sheath, already a dribble of pre accumulating on the tip of his canine shaft.

I pushed up with my nose, traveling up his sheath, feeling his knot just under the skin and then his hardening length. I then gave his pink tip a lick and he shot pre onto my tongue. He tasted sweet. He ate a lot of fruit, loved the stuff even though canines didn't really need it, it paid off.

Slowly, tongue teasing him and pushing into his sheath a little, I brought my lips to him and wrapped them around his hot cock. I pushed down, moving the sheath back and revealing more and more of his cock whic then disappeared into my mouth.

I had never given oral. Francis was my first and only male sex partner and he always did oral on me so I was calling on what I remembered from him.

I stopped moving down when I reached his knot and then slowly slid back up, using my tongue to guide him out nice and straight.

He was squirming, holding tightly onto his sheets. His eyes were closed, he was panting out of his mouth. This was so new to him that he hadn't built a tolerance to this kind of stimulation yet. He was going to blow already. Normally I could last a solid three minutes when he went down on me.

Not wanting to give him a disappointing experience, I wrapped my paw around his knot, giving it a squeeze and he deposited more of that sweet pre of his right onto my tongue. I really had to admit, he could sell this stuff to me and I would have no problem drinking it right down.

I bobbed my head back down, wrapping my tongue around his length, spiraling down, twisting my head until his cock hit the back of my throat and then some. I stroked behind his knot which was swelling more and more every time my lips hit it. I thought about taking that as well, but even Francis didn't do that, so I thought better about it.

Francis had rolled his head back and arched his back, thrusting his hips into the air.

I sent my free paw to undo my pants that were getting too tight for my growing erection. I could feel the tip poking from the top of my pants and it shot downward like a spring, slapping the bed when I undid the button.

I left it there, wanting to make sure that Francis got my undivided attention.

"Oh.. FUuuuCK." He moaned. "I'm... I'm going to." And he did.

His hips jerked into my face, forcing himself partially down my throat and shot his first, most powerful load right down it. I pulled back fast enough not to gag and to be rewarded for my efforts with more of his delectable cum, coating my entire tongue with it. I swallowed it as soon as it was let loose from him.

I squeezed the base of his knot and pulled, create a false tie and tricking his body into going into full production mode. More and more came and I greedily slurped it up, kneading at his knot, trying to get him to feed me even more. I didn't let him rest, his squirmed, pulled at my head fur with those paws of his, kicked his legs as I gave him the longest ejaculation he would ever have.

Once it started going bitter, having used up his pre made reserves, did I stop and finally slid him out of my mouth.

"Oh fuck. Oh fuck." I had reduced his vocabulary to two words. His fur shone with sweat and I gave him one long whiff. That pungent, flowery conditioner of his was no where, only his musky sweat was there to greet my nose. It wasn't bad, but I wasn't too into musk so I sat up, my leaking cock at full mast.

"So, does someone suck off a tool?" I wiped some of his spunk off my mouth and licked it off my paw with him watching.

His eyes were glazed over.

"Feel better." I flopped onto my stomach next to him and messed up his head fur.

"I do." He had a smile back on his face which put one on mine. He looked down at my cock that was poking out from under my hip and then back up. "But can you do me a favor?"

"What?" I asked him, not sure of what else I could do for him.

"As much as getting blown was great. And I mean great." He scooted up closer to me and turned around before rubbing his ass into my side. "I would still love to feel you fill me up."

That fox, never sexually satisfied.

"No problem." I nuzzled into his neck and turned, lining up with his rear before shoving myself to the hilt in one thrust. He took me all without noise and with the amount I had already leaked all over his bed, I didn't need to get the lube.

"I remember." I said to Francis as he put away both of our dishes in the sink with the others from when he had made the pancakes.

"You said I tasted fruity." He turned on the hot water and let the basin fill before putting some dish soap into it to let it soak.

I looked at him and then to the sink where I could see the bowl with the batter.

"Taste anything familiar in those pancakes." He turned to me, tent poking out at me.

I stood up wordlessly and he lost his smile. He looked back as I walked towards him and he bumped back into the wall.

"It was joke." He covered his crotch with his paws. "I didn't really."

He had no where to go and I pressed my mouth next to his ear and spoke. "You were always so bad at lying." He shivered. "Anyways, I think I prefer it straight from the tap."

I leaned back and he had his mouth slightly open, not sure what to do. I knew what I wanted to do as I slowly went down and pulled those tented, wet boxers out of the way. He smelled of bacon.