FSE

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It was midday and the chilly wind led to small showers. Cliff was teaching me how to start chopping wood from fallen trees on the outskirts of Second Chances. We didn’t need to travel far on the property, but it was still quite a small trek. Even from the town’s watch towers, they could still make out the tiny forms of a Doberman and black cat standing around piles of timber along the tree line. However, a strange sensation tickled the skin under my brown fur after a few droplets of rainwater struck my shoulder. Slightly concerned, I turned to the black cat standing with raised hackles.

“Why does the rain feel so weird?” I asked him, only for my eyes to suddenly widen. “Is it—”

“Acid rain!” He grabbed my arm and pulled me with him away from the edge of the clearing. “C’mon, Donovan! We gotta go!”

We dropped our axes, making a beeline for a few closely-packed trees. Stinging taps of polluted rainwater made our exposed skin itch. Not my first rodeo, but it still hurt enough to not shrug off.

Ever since the Collapse, freak weather and natural disasters had become commonplace, mostly consisting of intense storms and flooding. Not to mention dozens of more hurricanes along the coastlines. The Midwest didn’t see as many horrible storms compared to the coastal regions, with the Mississippi River allegedly widening dramatically from its usual pre-Collapse size. Extreme humidity was offset by brutal winter storms or severe drought that would last a month during the summers. Once in a while though, an acid rainstorm would come like an unpleasant surprise. The sky would turn dark, then people wouldn’t realize how acidic the water was until it touched your arms or ears or tail. It seemed that the survivalist town of Second Chances was no exception.

Cliff brought me to the nearest shelter, a small wooden shack several feet from the barbed wire fence dividing us from the rest of northern Wisconsin. It stood out like a lighthouse offering salvation.

I practically jumped inside with the black cat, laughing with him as I used the ankle of my boots to slam the rusty door shut. The sound of howling wind and loud tapping on the roof mixed with my racing, thumping heartbeat.

“Shit, that came outta nowhere!” Cliff chuckled. He his head free of droplets before sitting on the floor beside me. “You doing okay, Donnie?”

The black cat followed my gaze up towards the opposite wall’s window, where we could see the rainstorm carry on. Droplets of acidic water fell outside, while I began to wonder…

“Do you think it’s worse out there?”

Cliff perked a feline ear. “Huh?” he asked. “What do you mean?”

I let out a contemplative sigh. “Being here makes me forget how shitty it is out there, you know? I forget about the rising sea levels, the raiders, whole abandoned cities. Then we get bad weather like this, and I’m suddenly reminded of the apocalypse out there all over again…”

“It’s depressing?” Cliff asked, and I nodded. “Yeah, I get that too. It sucks. As much as I really like going out there to explore and search for supplies, I get it. Living in this town feels like Paradise. We forget that there’s a bad world out there, until that bad world’s bad weather hits us.”

“Yeah,” I said.

Cliff exchanged a smile with me, and we spent some time listening to the music of rainfall hitting the wooden structure.

“Well, it looks like we’re gonna be here for a while,” he said after a moment of comfortable silence, then exhaled through his nostrils. “Dad and my bros shouldn’t be too worried about us, long as we head right back once the rain stops.” The handsome black cat crouching beside me suddenly paused, his whiskers twitching. “Wait, is that…”

Fuck. He sniffed the air in my direction, and my arm shifted down to cover more of my torso.

There was another reason I was awfully quiet. My bashful eyes traveled away from Cliff and glanced awkwardly around the tiny shelter. It was a camouflaged old thing, once a hunting blind before being converted into a supply shed once the chain-link fence went up. A few better, well-built hunting blinds replaced this one further from the property, if Second Chances ever needed feral venison or meat. It’s still doing its job though; four windowed walls and a reliable roof, plus a small iron furnace in the corner along with some emergency rations.

It also served as a popular hookup spot for outpost residents. My nose literally inhaled the masked scent of cum as soon as we opened the door.

“Wait, do you have a boner?”

I let out a moaning laugh and gave up trying to hide it. Stretching out my legs along the ground, displaying the tent in my denim jeans in the process, I didn’t expect Cliff to take immediate action. He went from a crouching position beside me to effortlessly straddling my hips. The feline purred and I gasped at how I covered erection pressed at his backside beneath his wagging tail. With my head tilted up in elation, Cliff went for my exposed neck. His whiskered knows inhaled my sweaty musk and tickled my Adam’s apple, then tasted both with his rough feline tongue. My moans grew like a rainstorm’s chorus, and my fingers didn’t waste time groping his body, then returning the favor with fevered kisses.

I wasn’t one of his twin brothers. I didn’t share the same blood as the triplets. However, it was like we could read each other’s minds. It would be a while until the rain stopped, so why not take advantage?

Suddenly, the confining, old hut became unbearably hot. We shed our shirts as fast as our fingers would allow, then traded sweet, wet saliva as we tongue-wrestled for dominance. Our fingers caressed and pinched. Our tails thrashed around each other’s legs like horny snakes. We bared our fangs before colliding lips together. It went on for several humid minutes until I finally lightly pushed Cliff against one of the walls, one of my paws squeeze in the back of his warm neck until he went limp in my arms. Then, he whimpered against my tongue and purred like a beautiful electric generator.

“Turn around,” I gave an encouraging growl, kneeling to the floor.

He did so, even unbuckling his belt and peeling it down without being asked. I licked my brown-furred chops at seeing Cliff spread his obsidian ass cheeks and leaned forward to tongue that delectable starfish beneath his raised tail.

Outside, the acid rain didn’t lighten up. Inside, I enjoyed a feast.

“Ahh!” he cried out, pushing his ass against my snout and purring when my tongue widened his tailhole in circling motions. “Ooooh! Oh, nfh! Oh, Donovan! Donnie—ahhh!”

I loved eating out any of the triplets. Each of them had a distinct taste despite their similarities. Probably do two separate types of soap used during showers. Ambrose was more perspirant and masculine, smelling of berries. Blaine was more woodland. Cliff smelled more like greasy bacon, thanks to using animal fat from the farm to make his soaps. It didn’t make them taste any less delicious as I licked between his velvety black globes and my thumb fondled his muscled glutes. Greedily, I devoured him until my sore jaw gave up, and Cliff was left quivering with an insanely hard cock dripping against the floorboards.

“Had enough, kitten?” I asked coyly. My tongue licked up some leftover drool from my chin as I waited for the black cat to give a composed answer.

“N-No,” he replied, turning around to give a pleading, panting smile. “F-Fill me, p-please…! F-Fuck me!”

I playfully shrugged, then complied, unbuckling my own belt and pushing down my pants until a Doberman cock slipped out, hard and needing.

Less than a minute later, an outsider would definitely hear what was going on inside the hunting blind-turned-supply shed. My canine grunts vibrated off the walls along with Cliff’s purring, mewls, and the sound of my hips slamming vigorously against his ass. Plus, the slick noises of my shaft thrusting in and out of that tight tailhole. This went on for a while, and besides trading kisses with him and relishing how the loving black cat squeezed my dog cock like a soft vise, everything turned into a lustful blur.

I could never get enough of Cliff, or his brothers, or their father. Ever since I started living in the town of Second Chances, making up my new home, I often didn’t go a whole week without having sexual encounters at least two or three times. None of it ever got boring. We even made it into a tradition where I would sleep over at their cabin over the weekends. I knew almost every inch of their bodies and so did they with mine. As I reached a fever pitch and snarled wow emptying my seed deep under Cliff’s tail, our lips locked in another soft kiss, I Felt like I had died and gone to Heaven.

Then again, Heaven wouldn’t have been as great without them. Without Cliff, his family, and the other residents who worked tirelessly to make the town a safe haven following the end of the world. I would be included too, for the next newcomer.

The sexual haze started to fade for me and Cliff. I’d stopped fucking him silly and we’d stopped cumming. The next thing I knew, we were lying tired on the floor atop a blanket. We were enjoying the afterglow when the door opened. It wasn’t raining anymore, and a tall, older black cat stood with a relieved smile. He stared at me and one of his sons with a hint of nostalgia in his eyes.

“Why am I not surprised?” he chuckled. The larger feline helped us each up and patted our shoulders, watching as we started hurriedly redressing. “Still, I’m glad you’re both safe. That storm surge was harsher than we expected, but nobody’s too hurt. C’mon, you’ve had your fun. Let’s get back to town and fix some of the damage.”

“Yes, Daddy,” we both replied, and I was left blushing again as Cliff and his dad laughed.