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Jesam – Portal play

The fox leaned forward in their seat, chin resting in one paw, forgotten pen lightly clutched in the other; they looked down the lecture hall towards the professor and the current instruction, yet of course neither saw nor heard any of it. They closed their eyes, swallowed… felt the sticky slickness of hungry drool in their throat, then the uneven shudders of tense breath welling up out of them with the repeated waves of gentle, indulgent pleasure that thrummed up through their lower body. It was such a strange sensation, being able to feel this, yet having their pants and underwear on and their legs crossed, while sitting in the back of one of the classrooms on campus, in a seat, same as everyone else here. But-

But… Jesam bit their lip, pulled in another slow breath, held it… let it wash back out through flared nostrils across their paw, now covering their mouth. It was so, so hard not to rumble and purr and moan with these ongoing sensations gyrating through them. But what a wonderful, amazing device. For me to be able to be here, while another part of me is- The fox gritted their teeth, closed their eyes for a moment, then rocked forward, deliberately grinding into the front of their pants, using their rear on the seat to tug the interior of the fabric more firmly in against themselves. -somewhere else…

Specifically, in an alley between the library and the life science building. For a moment the sensation of lips and tongue against their sex, down here between their legs yet at the same time, through the technology of the two-way portal device nestled within the front of the panties they wore, somewhere else on the campus. Or at least, that’s where I left it this morning.

Naturally the first thing they had done, upon receiving it from another classmate and friend, was test it out themselves. It had been hard to believe at first, sliding the underwear up their legs, feeling the strange material of the closed portal against sensitive lips and soft flesh – and then they had turned on the other end of the device, obviously intended for its current purpose, and saw, smelled, tasted themselves right there, as if their head had instead been between their own legs… or, rather, their legs around their head, or-

Jesam swallowed again, curled their lower lip up towards their nose, drew in a slow, steady sniff of their own musk still coating the fur there. They had almost missed their first class today, they had ended up so engrossed in their own pleasure finally getting a taste of themselves from the source, tongue dancing and digging and swirling, lips squeezing, sucking. It had taken some getting used to, of course: while lying back on the bed, legs spread, one paw keeping the other end of the device right up to their muzzle so that the fox could continue in their self-service, they had reached down with the other as though to finger themselves while doing so, and instead met the strange backing of the then active portal.

But now it was someone else’s mouth, somewhere else on campus, licking and lapping and slurping and sucking and – Jesam had to bite the side of their finger and wrench their eyes shut, as the stranger’s lips sealed in against them, sucked, and then buried their tongue inside, scooping along sensitive walls of flesh, drawing back to swallow and then slipping right back in again. Hell of a tongue, they thought, in between overwhelming waves of sensation; do we have any – giraffes or something on campus? We have to, right? We… we- Then what was certainly a second mouth, this tongue broad and flat, velvety. Canine, perhaps; Jesam let their eyes halfway open again and started down the lecture hall to the blackboard, watching the professor continue with the lesson still without seeing any of it.

They imagined what it might be like to be whoever had found the other end of the portal. Are they also in class? Probably not. Probably sitting in a bathroom in one of the lesser visited hallways. Or they took it back to their dorm, and they have the day off, and… and… and the tongue drew back, and Jesam jumped with the impact of a wad of spit spattering against them. Then two fingers slid across their lips, rubbed the slick wetness in, pushed inside; then a third joined those two, and the fox squirmed and clamped their paw around their mouth, hoping that nobody around would notice; then the fingers drew back, and they at least had a moment to prepare themselves for what they knew would surely come next.

Normally they would sit back, spread their legs, and nudge forward against the movement, but with this odd portal device Jesam felt it might be easier to clamp their legs tighter together, to bring this end of the portal closer to themselves, and then lean back… and then felt their back naturally arch as the tapered tip of the definitely canine shaft nestled up against them, and then began to sink slowly, sweetly in. The fox’s eyes drifted shut and they sighed again, first clenching around the girth as it pressed up inside of them, sinking deeper, pushing past sensitive flesh thoroughly prepared and lubed by what had to be three different sets of saliva now; they shifted their muzzle to their other paw, took a surreptitious glance around the hall to make sure that nobody had yet figured out what was going on – that was another benefit of this device: the scent of the sex remained wherever the other end of the portal was, instead of hovering here around them like a signal fire-

And then their back straightened like a ramrod, their arm slammed against the surface of the desk, and they yelped out from behind their paw when this mystery participant suddenly shoved all the way in to the base inside of them, the wet heat of their full shaft throbbing out inside of Jesam, keeping them full… reminding them that they were in a very public place, and now the next two rows had turned to look back at them, and the professor had paused to call out to them.

At least whoever was using them had paused there for now. Jesam cleared their throat, raised their paw to say something – and then gasped and yelped again when that buried cock slid back, and slammed inside once more. Then, a stray thought amid the burgeoning embarrassment:

Did you bring enough to share with the class?

greener12 – Public/exhibitionism

Renesco clutched onto the support bar, hands wrapped around it, cool metal made warm by his constant presence pushing in against his chest, lurching forward and back with the steady thrusts from behind. He swallowed again, rolled his head back, let his jaw fall open… and sighed with delighted relief when his visitor from behind clutched his hips with suddenly more force, then pounded forward, and again, and again, and then shuddered against him, firm hips to soft, plush, doughy rump.

The sheep rumbled in his throat and turned his head as he received this next load, grinding back against the donor as he did so. “There you go,” he purred, “there you go… feels good, doesn’t it?” A few more thrusts afterwards, the slick, sticky heat of another few spurts of cum emptied inside of him smearing across the still-hard shaft, and then the strange pulled out. For effect the sheep gave a little side to side sway of his ponderous backside, lavender cotton-puff tail; slick sweat clung to the underside of the base, crossed with what was certainly a little bit of the spit this visitor had used for lube, as well as the warmth of Renesco’s arousal from when they had first plunged into his sex to get started, and then moved on to his tailhole.

Still leaning against the pole, he pushed his rump out further, felt his entire body jiggle as the subway went over a bump in the track, and then reached back to spread himself. Thick, heavy rolls of flesh and fur peeled apart from one another… “Thanks for your service.”

“No, no…” And the stranger gave the spread rump a good, firm smack that Renesco felt reverberate all the way around to his hanging belly. “Thank you. This is my stop. Will you be here next week?”

“I’ll see if I can fit you in to my… busy schedule.” He turned his head to follow the voice, then deliberately angled his body so that his good side faced the doors when they hissed open. That was the joy of riding the overnight route: the few travelers that did take the subway were usually like-minded in his goals, and if they weren’t, then they almost never gave him any shit for it, seeing this behavior as just part of the urban tapestry.

Oh, he thought with a smirk, there’s the sheep boy waving his ass and pussy around again. Look, he’s already been used. Renesco swallowed, shivered, ran a hand down his bare body and around the folds and rolls of his belly… down through the puff of pubic fur, and spread his fingers across himself. He hadn’t even seen the face nor species of that last visitor, though the scent hovering along his fingers when he brought that slickness to his nose to rub it across the ring there made him think wolf, or at least some kind of dog. No tying this time, though; that was a mixed blessing in itself. On the one hand, they usually panic since they don’t wanna get stuck for half an hour… on the other, I know for a fact that I’m loose enough that they could pull out as soon as they want, easy-peasy… and on that same hand, getting me nice and sloppy and so loose that I have to clench to keep their load inside me, and…

And the doors hissed shut and in another second the train rocked back into motion. Renesco looked first one way down the aisle and then the other, a little disappointed that he had put himself all on display and then nobody had even come on at this stop. So he sighed – at least I can still entertain myself – and reached around to run a hand beneath his tail, to scoop the leakage that he felt trickling out of him right back into his slightly-stretched tailhole, and-

-instead bumped against the head of some new stranger who must have crept up when he wasn’t looking. They gasped, as did Renesco, and then what might have been a muttered apology fizzled up from around his backside, just before a second pair of paws reached in, squished into his rump, and spread him there.

“Oh!” The sheep wiggled again and bent back over. “Oh, no, no problem whatsoever. Help yourself, dear. That’s what I’m here for…”

This happened every now and then, too, and of course he didn’t mind. He himself wouldn’t want to be back there – tonight had given him… four or five already, with the first being that lovely donkey jack – so whoever this was now, lifting their muzzle up towards his used and abused tailhole struggling to keep hold of everything pumped into him, hot breath sniffing at the myriad mix of musk and scent, was truly adventurous. And Renesco could admire them for that. To help them out, he bent over a little further, pressed back until he felt their chin nudge up against the backside of his sex, and spread himself as much as he could for them.

And then he could really admire them for the way they tried him out with a short, quick lick, then a second more investigative one, then a third quite easily slipping up past the rim. Then the lips came in as well, settling easily around his tailhole, sucking into place… slurping free the sheen of sweat and slime and whatever else had gathered during his midnight journey. Renesco sighed again, closed his eyes, and relaxed as he tended to do when serving his use here on the overnight subway; he lifted his tail, arched his back, pushed back a little more firmly, heard the rustling of clothing as his new visitor likely settled into the action.

Wonder what that tastes like, he thought, pushing out from inside each time he felt that mouth suck and swallow, clenching again when the tongue returned. Donkey for sure as the first one; I saw him walk past me. Then I think another dog? I thought I felt a knot when he finished, but he didn’t tie. Then that lion, and, God, those barbs had me tingling through the next one, and…

And then this stranger drew back, panting, and stood up. Renesco glanced over his shoulder, not far enough to see who or what they were – since that was part of the fun – and then smirked again as he felt the so-familiar sensation of a hard cock tapping against his stretched, well-prepared tailhole. He rubbed back.

And we’re going this way, are we? Works for me.

Kefl – Public/exhibitionism

“What do you wanna do, hm? Hey. Hey. Look at me.”

Kieran swallowed once again, the distant taste of his lunch still hovering about his lips, and peered through his fingers at the much smaller hyena across from him. Or, less that Shekh was small, and more that Kieran was big: with his elbows on the table he had to hunch over for leverage, and then push himself way back in his chair so it thrust halfway into the space of the adjacent table, and whoever had been sitting there when the two had arrived had left by now, and…

And the larger were-hyena grunted, groaned, and gritted his teeth as Shekh’s paw squeezed at him beneath the table. Not just along his leg, though stretched fingers pressed into soft fur and firm muscle there, but around the wide, full rim of his equine shaft worked down into his pants leg, straining against the fabric, a damp spot having gathered at the apex – where the other hyena rubbed his thumbpad, then smeared it further up. Fingers danced back towards Kieran’s groin and then came up again towards his head, making him grunt again, clench, pulse. The strain shivered up through the fabric of his pants, pulling even tighter than it had before, and yet again he worried that it would tear somewhere; this just resulted in the extra tension pulling even tighter, which made him throb even harder, which in turn tightened further… and then, panting, he relaxed back down again.

His fist unfurled, his jaw unclenched, and he managed to open his eyes again, and looked down and across the table at the other hyena there, muzzle resting in his other paw, cool eyes tilted up at him with a faint half-smile on his face. Knowing him, he had likely been planning something like this ever since he had heard the group would be making a trip to the mall today: Kieran had noticed that he had stuck by his side for most of the time, and then back in the bookstore he had followed the larger hyena into the back section and stolen a few squeezes and gropes there, and then on the way to the food court had held close by… then took his place across from him while everyone else went off, and ate in relative silence, and that was that.

And then Kieran had felt the footpaw reaching across to nestle up in between his thighs, first making him jump with surprise, then drawing him forward as the other hyena pressed in, worked against the thick, dense wrinkles of plump equine sheath hidden beneath folds of clothing, coaxed him further out. And still Shekh had just tapped through his phone, hardly giving more than an upward glance to show that he knew what he was doing. Kieran had grunted and groaned and dug little gouges into the surface of the table in trying to resist thrusting forward, and then the footpaw gave way to a regular paw instead once his half-arousal had worked part of the way down his pants leg, and now-

Now the damned other hyena smirked, curled his fingers around the rim of Kieran’s head, and pulled. The were-hyena’s eyes fluttered shut again and he arched his back, pushing forward into the touch; Shekh rumbled softly, pushed down with his palm, and rubbed along the rim through his pants, just the way that Kieran had showed him how to do so long ago.

“Well?” Shekh went on, keeping a conversational tone. “I mean, I’m totally okay with staying here. Feels like you’re getting close, I-” He squeezed again. Kieran’s ears perked and he turned his head, stifling a noise behind a clenched paw, eyes wrenching shut again… and he thumped a footpaw against the ground in trying to resist the full-body swell that that extra pleasure sent thrumming through him. “-oh, wow, yeah. Wonder what it’s like having a dick as fucking huge as this. I mean, sure, I’m the upper end of average, but I can still wear gym shorts on a hot day, y’know?”

Once the sensation pulsed back out of him Kieran swallowed again and breathed a sigh. “We – could-”

“Hmm?” Another squeeze, and this time Shekh turned his body and leaned forward to run his paw further up the equine shaft sleeved within taut fabric. “Sorry, I didn’t catch that. Were you gonna say you wanted to ruin another bathroom stall with this? I think you broke some of the tile in that last one.”

“Well, you were-”

“Actually, now that I think about it, I don’t know why you bother wearing pants at all.” The hyena across the table straightened back up, fingers tracing once again towards Kieran’s half-flared head. He gritted his teeth, plastered himself back against the chair, tried to resist moaning out into the still full food court… ended up banging the underside of the table with one of his knees. “Fucking thing’s all the way down to your knee, dude. I bet when you walk around, everyone in the store will be able to hear your balls sloshing and your sheath slurping and all of that.”

“That’s because – you’re-”

“Yeah?” Shekh leaned in again, forward over the table, which conveniently also allowed him to bring his other paw underneath. One remained at Kieran’s head while the other pushed back along his shaft, shifting the thick cords of veins threading over the surface, squishing along the medial ring already squeezed beneath his pants, reaching up to his unfolded sheath, then back down again. “I’m what?”

“Gonna-” He swallowed again, bit his lip, flared his nostrils. “-make me-”

The tension was the worst part, and at the same time, the best. Kieran clamped a paw around his muzzle, struggling to contain the rumbling moans and growls as those slow, firm touches rolled him across the edge, but once it started there was no way to stop the momentum. His leg shook and kicked and vibrated, and even as his flare began to swell out, still the tight material of his pants squeezed down around it, increasing that tension further, dragging everything out, building the pressure and pleasure inside of him until he thought he might yelp with the intensity – and then he kicked the table again, and Shekh jerked and scooted to the side, and Kieran bucked, and jerked, and bucked again, each time letting a sharp, huffing sigh out of his nose across his fingers. The leg of his pants stretched and pulled with each forceful throb, the thick, sticky wet heat searing through, dripping down, pooling by his footpaw and, judging by the way the other hyena’s ears flicked and angled, spattering across the tile floor as well.

Feeling like he had just run two miles, Kieran finally opened his eyes, sighed with relief, swallowed, cleared his throat to speak – and only then noticed that just about everyone within two tables had turned to stare at him. Shekh had gone back to his phone and looked up, imitating the same look of shock, horror, and half-suppressed interest and amusement.

Big dick, he mouthed, then gave a shrug. Big mess. What can ya do?

kioreii – Heat

Spirit leaned up against the brick wall, relishing the odd stick-and-pull sensation of the rough asperities pricking through the border collie’s fur. They rested their weight there, shoulders and chest heaving in slow, unsteady panting not from exertion, but rather from the wholly different flame that simmered, burned deep inside of them. They had hoped that going on this brisk walk would alleviate some of the tension, but as they had gone longer they had instead discovered it to do the exact opposite – to the point where now their shorts had started to soak through with the constant leaking wetness of their heat, the fabric slick and sticky, their entire lower body trembling with the sensation.

It was maddening. The canine looked first over one shoulder and then the other both ways down the alley into which they had stepped, then jammed a paw down into the front of their pants. Instead of relief this just fueled the flame even higher, so that their legs trembled and they doubled partially over, fingers sliding slick across pubic fur soaked through with dripping warmth; one, two, three fingers easily sank up inside of them, digging deep, circling around, then dragging back out, knuckles bracing against the interior of their pants.

Spirit had known that underwear today would have been a mistake, as during the peak of their heat they tried to lounge around their apartment completely nude – clothing either felt oppressive or just worked them up further; never anything in between – but, as it had turned out, going commando had also been a mistake. Each step just rubbed the rough material of their pants up against their hypersensitive sex, so that for the past two blocks they had avoided glancing down for fear of seeing a dribbling snail-trail left behind them. Now the dog straightened up, panting, and with the other paw struggled to unbutton their fly, tugged the zipper, drew the fabric flaps open… and shivered upon seeing the sticky strands of glistening arousal that stretched out from lips tinted pinkish-red with their heat, full and swollen.

In the midautumn evening, it steamed. Spirit swallowed, gritted their teeth, spread themselves with those same fingers that had just been buried to the knuckle… and then rolled their head back with a deep, rumbling moan in their throat at the waft of their own musk, hovering up to cloud around their head like low-lying fog. They breathed in again, savoring their own scent as they had had no choice to do for these past two and a half weeks – barely halfway there, they reminded themselves – then sighed again, another moan trickling out as they did so. And then, with barely another glance out towards the road, Spirit bent forward, braced an arm against the wall, dropped their head down to keep a good view, and plunged those fingers back in.

Immediately the sweet pleasure washed through them, vibrating up through their tingling abdomen, reverberating through their chest and shoulders, and coming out as another half-suppressed moan. Instead of the slow, indulgent self-pleasure that they would explore when unwinding after a long day at work or when settling in for bed, tonight they sought one thing and one thing only, and this was why they turned their paw, half-lifted a leg to push against the side of a nearby dumpster, and then fiercely, forcefully pounded their bunched fingers in against themselves, fast and hard enough that the thick, wet smacks and slurps echoed off the brick walls.

Spirit groaned out again, floppy ears folding back, eyes rolling up behind half-closed lids, and shuddered as they grinded forward against their own paw. Their brushy tail hoisted at the base, tailhole clenching, tightening with the fervent rhythm of their movements; they swallowed through an open mouth, groaned, grunted, then whipped their paw away – and continued thrusting and jerking at the air as a first energetic peak sprayed out of them, squirting out to darken the bricks and quickly trickling down to pool along the dirty cement underfoot.

But still that was not enough. It could never be enough. A low whine growing in their throat, Spirit lifted that paw to their muzzle and pressed the sex-soaked fur against their nose, taking deep, thick drags of their rich, heady scent. They flopped their tongue out, sucked the slightly frothy, slimy stickiness out from their pelt, and then adjusted their stance to continue the same with their other paw as well, and then-

-then jumped, yelped, and felt their muzzle pushed forward against the brick so that that same stick-and-pull sensation grabbed on to the fur of their cheek instead. A firm, strong paw pressed against their cheek, unfamiliar scent pushing across them, while a second ran down the small of their back; extended claws dug lines in their fur and drew out unintentional, shameful shivers of delight.

“Mind if I…” The stranger’s voice was low, gravelly, a little brusque. His breath smelled of cigarette smoke. “Help you out here? Just got out on break from the bar back behind us. And, sweet Lord Jesus almighty…”

Spirit grunted, the noise melding smoothly into a moan as the distinctive pressure of a half-hard cock nudged up between heat-slickened lips. The stranger thrust their hips forward and back, forward and back, rubbing along without pressing in.

“…I could smell you before I left the building, hon.” He straightened up, reached down, angled himself up a bit… and then pushed in, pressing the border collie up against the wall. That flame that stirred inside of them suddenly burst into a bright napalm blaze; they kicked that footpaw against the dumpster, gritted their teeth, moaned deep in their throat – and wagged their tail, already pressing back against him. “Mind if I… cum inside? I only got seven minutes.”

“Seven minutes? I guess… I…” It was hard to speak, hard to think clearly. Spirit swallowed again. “I guess I can’t – really stop you, can I? I… hah…” ...and they trailed off, the worst dissolving beneath the thrusting rhythm that had begun against their hips. “When you… go in… will there be… someone else – on break?”

“Yeah. Yeah, that’s…” Another grunt from behind, with both paws going down to grasp their waist and yank them back. “How it works.”

“Send them out too.”

Peegus – Portal play

Kopa couldn’t help but squirm side to side in his chair, then did so again, and then squirmed front to back this time – and found that that felt much better, so he did so another few times as well. The leopard clutched his forehead loosely in one paw with his pencil in the other, intending and hoping that he looked like he was hard at work in taking notes; in truth he had heard nothing the professor had said so far, and every time he tried to focus, his attention instead just rocketed back towards the actual matter at hand here.

Or, really, not at hand. All this time spent with this device and he still hadn’t wrapped his mind around the workings of it; arousal tingling in his loins, sensation and urgency building, he wanted to cross his legs and grind, to drop a paw beneath his desk during this lecture and give himself a few surreptitious rubs and strokes, but when he did all he felt there between his legs was the back of the device. But he could press it in against himself a little bit more firmly, right where the mouth of the portal wrapped snug around the base of his sheath, and he could reach down and nudge his balls a little bit, and-

-he felt his own hard shaft sink just slightly deeper beneath his own tail where he had nestled the other end of the device, after several long practice sessions in his dorm over the weekend. Still he couldn’t believe how good it felt, and how easy it was: today he had a late start to his classes, so instead of sleeping in like usual the leopard had simply rolled over in bed, reached for the two ends of the device, slid the one down around his sheath and held the other in his paw, and then gotten right to work on himself, full with the gathered warmth and musk of the night.

He had almost finished himself then and there, and had had to pull himself away from the sweet, intoxicating sensation of sandpaper tongue across tender barbs just before his peak. Panting and shivering, wondering what would be so bad about finishing up? but knowing that he shouldn’t, he then got up out of bed, started to get dressed for the day… then looked back over to see where he had left the other end of the portal – where he had left himself, cock still hard and twitching – at the edge of his nightstand. So it had been simple to step over, to smear himself again in slick saliva straight from the source, to wipe a little bit more underneath the base of his tail, and then all he had to do was turn around and start to sink down.

And it had been so, so hard not to keep on going, to resist the forward-and-back grind that he continued amid his class just now. Just as he directed his body to clench and squeeze and shift, so too could he feel the resulting movements of those muscles where they sleeved snug around his own cock. Walking to the lecture hall had been its own kind of hell, with each step not only shifting the way the portal hung around his sheath but also shifting his shaft inside of him, and slipping his rump back and forth across himself so that the teasing of his barbs made him tingle and shiver; briefly Kopa had considered stepping into the bathroom to take care of it, but right as he placed a paw against the stall door he thought, well, where am I gonna put myself? In my goddamn backpack?

So instead he had leaned over and braced back against the divider, and rode himself for a few deep, indulgent thrusts, then just as swiftly had to stop upon realizing he was getting double duty on the pleasure. At least the portals made it easier to do his pants back up: even while he was still twitching, throbbing hard, and probably five good clenches away from cumming, all of that extra distracting size was buried snug inside of him instead of pressing out at the front of his underwear.

Throughout the first half of the period Kopa had done his best to ignore the twitching, the throbbing, the grinding… the pulsing pressure and pleasure, the nearly irresistible temptation to keep on going. At first he had done fairly well at this, but somewhere along the way came to discover that he had drifted off into distraction, and now kept himself there with his muzzle in his paw and his eyes nearly closed, instead focusing on how he could feel his barbs tugging along the interior of his tailhole, and at the same time how he could also feel the sleek, slick walls of his bowels slurping and sucking around his buried shaft, and – he glanced up at the clock hanging above the blackboard – if I could only finish this class, and make it back to my dorm, I can get this damn thing off of me and be able to go about my day as usual, and I… I…

He swallowed, gritted his teeth, wrenched his eyes shut, and squeezed his legs together, his body still thinking that that would help to stave off the growing pressure. The leopard’s back arched and his tail curled; he rocked forward, then did so again, and again, and again, and each time he squeezed in response, his pleasure just continued to mount further.

I’m – oh, I’m – gonna-

His claws dug through the surface of the desk and he sucked in a deep, quick gasp, when that building pressure suddenly exploded out and rocked through him. Overwhelming in its intensity, he was almost certain that he kicked the foot of the desk and gasped and groaned as the leopard came inside of himself, each throb and pulse magnified by the sensation of himself: he could feel his own tight clenching, could feel the way he pushed back towards his sheath, could feel the intense, needy pulses of his buried cock. Again and again he spurted deep inside of himself, his paw drifting down to cover the quick, fervent gasps from his mouth; he felt as though it went on for ages, and then afterwards nearly succumbed to the immediate, overwhelming exhaustion and satisfaction, and-

And the professor stared at him, mouth open. Kopa blinked, cleared his throat, straightened up.

“Um. Sorry,” the leopard offered, and made a show of wiping his nose. He took in a slow, hopefully steady breath. “I – had to… had to sneeze. You were saying?”