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A week before, Brooklyn learned the dead drop of the activator in the Mutate Serum, which a crime ring had somehow stolen from one of the labs owned by Xanatos. It was hot cargo, with police, feds, the clan, and Xanatos' own private security trying to hunt down the ring that took it. They'd already gotten the activator back, but the question remained who wanted it stolen, so they set up a drop off in secret, to see who took the bait.

It was a little after one in the morning, when in the alley below, a human only tall as Lexington crept into it. They walked with purpose to the commercial dumpster under which Brooklyn had stashed a paper bag with a fake activator inside it. Soon as the man ducked to grab the bag, Brooklyn opened his wings and leapt off the roof, gliding down silently.

***

No louder than the scuffle of a rat, which a paranoid Matt still spun around, almost yelping as he saw the dark silhouette and shining white eyes of a gargoyle.

“You make a habit of checking under trash cans in the middle of the night?"

“You're not—they were just rumors—"

“Sure, rumors. Rumors like someone paid a hefty price for the activator in there." His tail pointed at the bag clutched in Matt's hand. “Wondering if you knew who would."

“I don't know nothing. I'm just a courrier."

“Oh yeah? For who?"

“You think I know? It'd be stupid to tell me anything—"

“Then where are you taking it?"

“Can't say."

The gargoyle took a step closer, into the light overhead a backdoor to the restaurant blocking in this alley. Two long red horns framed a mane of white hair, which poured down his back. His beaked face was more expressive than the rigid shape of it would imply. His crimson skin was leathery like a shark's, wrapped tight to his muscular body. He wore nothing but a loincloth, leaving scant to the imagination. Simultaneously striking and intimidating, monstrous and enthralling. Matt did know this one's name: Brooklyn.

Matt shrank back. He held up his hand, “Look! If you let me deliver it, you can see where it gets dropped off and who picks it up, right?"

“I can also drop you off with the cops, who will be very interested in why you have a dangerous and illegal chemical in your possession."

“What, this? Ah man, I'm just a lush looking for a drink. Saw a guy stash his booze here a week ago and wanted to check if he hid more."

“Like that'd stand up in court."

“I mean, did anyone see me go anywhere with this activator thing?"Matt asked.

Brooklyn's wings fanned out to make himself look even bigger as he growled,“I know what you did, you little punk."

“Yeah? You going to drag that pretty little tail of yours into the night court? What a joke. You don't got me for anything."

Claws clenched into fist, beak grit, wings trembling. This was about to break bad if Matt kept provoking this monster.

“I'm going to walk out of here, make my delivery, and you can watch on your little rooftops while I do my job, alright? We both get what we want, yeah?" Slowly, Matt walked towards the mouth of the alley. Brooklyn remained rooted in place, still clearly outraged, but not doing anything as Matt moved to the brick wall, sidling against it to keep his distance. Once he got past the gargoyle, he booked it, just needed to get into the open street before—

Like a lasso around his neck, that muscular, prehensile tail wrapped his throat and yanked him back into the alley. He fell into Brooklyn's chest, whose arms closed cross him and crushed them together. That beak brushed against his ear and made Matt shudder. This close, Matt could smell the gargoyle: like a sun-warmed skipping stone on a riverbank with the slight sting of masculine sweat.

“I don't think you understand the position you're in, dickwad."

A thunderous beat of those wings and they leapt into the air. Matt tried to scream, but Brooklyn shoved three red digits in his mouth. Matt choked on them, the flesh tasting much like sucking on a pebble. They landed against the wall, Brooklyn adeptly scaling the building with one arm, other wrapped under his shoulder, the palm against his chin and those fingers almost down his throat.

“Scream or squirm and I'll drop you."

Matt grunted an assent, already clutching onto Brooklyn's forearm. He heard the brick being gouged easily by Brooklyn's claws as he climbed like a cat up a tree. Those same claws in his mouth had him desperately trying to keep his head still as they climbed over the ledge, Matt dumped onto the slate rooftop.

He tried to crawl away, but that tail wrapped around his ankle and yanked him back to Brooklyn. Matt turned over onto his back, eyes wide as the gargoyle towered above him in the gibbous moonlight. Brooklyn stepped over Matt, digitigrade feet straddled his waist. He crouched down, so they were beak to face.

“You know how many suicides happen in this city?"

“W-what are you going to do to me?"

“Bout one every sixteen hours. Our clan probably catches one person every week trying to jump to their death."

“I'm… I'm not—" Brooklyn grabbed his face, thumb running over his lips.

“You know you have a pretty mouth."

Matt felt a pit in his stomach drop. He blurted out, “It's a PO Box on Atlantic Avenue, 662787, key's in my jacket pocket—"

“Shhh," Brooklyn put the thumb back over his lips. “I don't care anymore about the drop. What I do care about is scum like you thinking you can just talk shit and walk free. And you're probably right. With a good story, you probably could walk. But now… now you got two choices here: you can be my little bitch for the night, or end up another statistic. It's like you said, yeah? You're a lush, and alcoholics kill themselves all the time. Just another jumper making a mess in the street."

“Please, you're supposed to be one of the good guys, right?"

“And you're one of the bad. Roughing you up is part of the job." The hand on his face slipped down and grabbed the scruff of Matt's jacket, dragging him up onto his knees while Brooklyn's other hand undid the belt on his loincloth. It and the cloth dropped, leaving Matt face to dick. A meaty, foreskinned member that was burgundy in color, hanging against two pendulous testicles of the same color. Brooklyn's musk made Matt huff. God it was strong. Heady and earthy, sharp from sweating all night. A thicket of silver pubes narrowed into a trail up to his navel as Matt looked up, trying to plead with the gargoyle only to meet those uncaring, glowing eyes.

“What are you looking at me for, meat?" Brooklyn grabbed this head and shoved Matt's face into his ballsack. “You can start here."

Matt whimpered, face quickly smeared with an oily sheen of musky sweat. It wasn't revolting like an unwashed groin could be. The odor still reminded him of stones or gravel, grounding an otherwise overwhelmingly sweaty, masculine aroma now being spread into his pores like butter into bread.

“Pretty ripe, huh? I usually take a shower at the end of the night, but you can clean them for me tonight, can't you, bitch?"

Matt had pleased other guys before in college, so he wasn't a stranger to this. He just needed to get this beast's rocks off then he'd be let go. Grimacing, Matt stuck out his tongue. Salt and earthy stone pressed to his tastebuds, turning strangely savory with his saliva. The grip on his skull eased, and allowed Matt to start at the bottom of the scrotum, lapping upward, one of those heavy testes cupped against his oral muscle. They were the size of plums rolling wetly against his lips as he licked to the base of Brooklyn's shaft.

“Good little slut," Brooklyn growled. Matt kissed his sack, tongue digging into the hairless, leathery scrotum, tracing every wrinkle. His chin dripped with sweat and spit, his whole world becoming that fat sack. Its heat made his own face flush. His heart pounding in his ears and… Brooklyn sniffed, and his right foot shifted to Matt's crotch, toes rubbing something firm.

“Hahaha, are hard right now, little bitch? Big bad gargoyle shoves you into his balls and you become a mewling slut."

Matt groaned, unable to stop himself from humping against those toes. His shaft got shoved up into his waistband; Brooklyn's talons teased against his lower abdomen as he frotted the gargoyle's foot. He didn't mean to get excited, but the musk and domineering attitude of the stud taking advantage of him… God it was humiliating, but… he wanted more. Matt reached up and grabbed Brooklyn's coin purse, pressing it into his face, sometimes unable to breathe as he gorged himself on that sweat, kissing each testicle, letting them roll between his lips to suck on them. He flipped the sack up so he could lick the backside of it, seeking out more oily sweat. The gargoyle's musky film a degrading, savory flavor Matt wanted more of. Those testicles rested on his brow as his tongue dragged back down the scrotum's seam. Matt stood on his knees to press his face into Brooklyn's taint. He kissed and sucked the leathery, burgundy flesh, licking along the gargoyle's musky perineum till Brooklyn huffed.

“Alright, you want it that badly, bitch?" Brooklyn stepped back and turned around, tail lifted and offering his backside. “You've been good so far, you deserve a little treat." He reached backwards and spread those firm, round glutes, revealing the burgundy flesh between them that ran all the way up Brooklyn's crack to his wrinkly tailhole.

Erroneously, Matt thought the gargoyle wanted to be fucked, but Brooklyn's tail squashed that thought when it dropped on his head and shoved him face first between those cheeks. That earthy, stony scent turned to a more heady petrichor, sweet and sweaty with Matt's nostrils rubbing against the winking rim.

“F-fuck," he gasped. Brooklyn could just sit on his face and Matt would gladly jerk off to being smothered with this musk. He grabbed handfuls of both firm cheeks and dug in. Leathery, wrinkly flesh tasted sweeter here, too. His moan muffled as his tongue slipped and slid against the ring of muscle, digging into that entrance, feeling it yield a little to his probing, not quite letting him inside. He ate out Brooklyn's asshole with fervor, oblivious to his raging erection as he frenched that wrinkled flesh. Kissing, sucking on it while his tongue wedged into that pucker. Brooklyn moaned when Matt's muscle punched inside that tight hole. Matt mewled, lungs burning for a proper breath he couldn't take with his face and nose crammed so close to Brooklyn's backside.

He might have tongued that rim till he passed out if Brooklyn didn't pry his hands off that luscious red ass and stepped away.

Matt coughed and panted, drool dripping from his lips. He was in a daze, head spinning, nose drenched in Brooklyn's potent musk, tastebuds stained with stony sweat. Vaguely, he knew Brooklyn faced him again, stood over him, but he didn't look up till something hot and hard slapped his cheek.

“Don't go daydreaming now, slut," Brooklyn said.

“Holy shit," Matt whispered, gawking at the enormous red erection throbbing before him: burgundy poker close to a foot in length and almost thick as a coke can. Its foreskin remained tightly wrapped around its glans, the exposed meatus had a bead of liquid silver hanging from it, a tear drop suspended on spider's silk. Matt tried to reach for it, but Brooklyn's tail shoved him back.

“Uh-uh, you touch it when I want to, my little bitch. Show me your dick first, freak."

Matt's trembling hands struggled to unbutton his jeans, unable to tear his gaze from the pillar of masculinity a hand's span from his nose. He could smell it, see the urethra wink and squeeze out another droplet of precum. He whimpered when it dripped onto the roof. The pungent scent of Brooklyn's virility, unmistakably radiating from the gargoyle's oozing urethra had his mouth watering. Just how much semen would those enormous testes shoot?

Matt fished his dick from his trousers. His average length couldn't compare to the twitching mast in front of him.

“Tsk, surprised you're not a shrimp down there, slut." Brooklyn grabbed his shaft and pointed it at Matt's cock. “Getting your tongue in me got me real worked up."

“Mmmph."

“Yeah? Does that excite you? Are you excited to be used?" Brooklyn asked while pumping his dick. He huffed, and his sack visibly clenched, a wad of precum spitting out and across Matt's exposed cockhead.

“Oh fuck… oh shit," Matt breathed, trying hard not to just cum from that. He couldn't stop shivering, staring at his now glistening, rigid shaft as the ball of Brooklyn's foot pressed into it, forcing it against Matt's belly, those soles surprisingly smooth.

“It's soft, isn't it? Our stone cycle means we don't really get callouses." Brooklyn said as his left and middle toes squeezed the glans of Matt's cock.

Matt whimpered, balls aching. He was about to burst. It was mortifying. To his rapist's foot no less.

“You want my cock don't you, slut."

“...y-yes…"

“Want to taste it."

“Please… I'll do anything…"

“Want me to cum down your throat."

“Fuck yes! Please use me."

With Brooklyn's precum acting as lubricant, those toes slid up and down Matt's shaft at an agonizingly slow pace. Any faster and he'd blow his load all over them.

“Cum for me you needy little slut."

“Oh-oh god—I—" Matt's head tossed backwards, nearly screaming while he humped into Brooklyn's foot. A single thrust all he needed for his balls to explode, thick white ropes jetting up and onto the red foot still stroking him off. Shimmering silver strands falling all over crimson flesh, Matt's dick twitching as Brooklyn's toes worked up and down, the added mess making them even slicker. It left Matt seeing stars, unable to speak, having shot more cum at once than any time in recent memory. He didn't come to his senses until those toes stopped milking him.

Brooklyn held his foot up to Matt's mouth and said, “Clean it."

Drunk on pleasure, Matt leaned over and started licking the foot clean of his cum. The creamy, salty fluid mingling with the stone taste of Brooklyn's feet as he wormed his tongue between the toes that got him off, lapping up the sticky mess he left behind.

Balancing easily on the other foot with the help of his wings and tail, Brooklyn said, “I like you, human, what's your name."

“M-Matt," he mumbled when Brooklyn set his foot down.

“Mmm, maybe if you're good, Matt, I'll take you back to the clocktower. Keep you in a cage as my little pet."

“Y-you can't—"

Brooklyn grabbed his head and wrenched his gaze upwards. “Can't I, pet? You're nothing but a slut on your knees begging to have my cock down your throat, aren't you?"

Matt's lipped quivered, considering if he should still try to beg for mercy.

Brooklyn shook him and snapped, “Well?"

“I am!"

“You're what? Use your words, pet."

“I-I'm…" Matt swallowed the knot in his throat, “I'm a slut on my knees."

Brooklyn pressed Matt's face into the underside of that massive rod. Its hot, throbbing flesh now slick from a constant stream of precum. “And what do you want?"

Matt moaned—how in the hell was he still hard? What was this monster doing to him? “Your cock! I want your cock—hlk—" Brooklyn cut him off by shoving said shaft into his mouth. Matt melted around it. Unsure why that savory, salty flavor immediately placated him, turned him back into the dumb, horny animal he'd been before post-nut clarity reminded him of the danger he was in.

Matt's tongue worked where the seam of Brooklyn's foreskin met meatus, snaking against it, precum coating the back of his palate in a savory, sticky flavor. Viscous and stringy, not all of it sliding down his throat when he swallowed. He loved how it spread like lava across his mouth, pooling with his saliva, dripping down his throat, its heat making his mouth tingle. His tongue managed to wedge its way beneath the foreskin of that fat cockhead, the taste of Brooklyn's glans like a salt-rim on a margarita. Matt moaned around it, trying to swirl his tongue across it, only for Brooklyn's dick to twitch with another gooey flood of preseminal fluid. Matt whimpered, feeling his own cock ache over the flavor pouring into him.

Brooklyn's claws wrapped around the back of his head, palms to temples. “Enough teasing, pet," Brooklyn growled and yanked Matt down on his shaft. Dick rammed inside his gullet, a bulge pushing out against his throat apple while Brooklyn growled. The gargoyle's hips rolled, glans barreling in and out Matt's throat, crashing past his uvula. He gagged, eyes watery, choking. Brooklyn's cock retreated again and this time Matt snuck in a breath. His throat burned, but he didn't try to stop those hips from slamming into his face—balls smacked his chin, nose buried in sweaty pubes, jaw aching around the dick plugging away at him.

Brooklyn leered down, licking hungrily across his beak. “A real pretty mouth. Better for this than talking, don't you think?"

Matt could only whine, throat convulsing, sucking around the pulsing shaft. His milking entirely involuntarily as his body struggled for air. Choking frantically until Brooklyn ripped him off the shaft—the now shining burgundy meat popping free of his lips. Matt coughed and wretched, sucking in breath after breath. Precum jetted across his cheek, and its heat made him shudder. His lips opened, maw already seeking to be filled, he kissed the meaty head of those glans. His eyes fluttered as its flavor brought him back into that addictive stupor of service.

Before he could slide the shaft deeper, Brooklyn warned, “Better take the deepest breath of your life, slut."

Matt tried, refusing to release the french kiss to Brooklyn's glans, tongue wriggling against that delicious urethra. What air he managed to haul in through his nose became all he had as Brooklyn's tool pried open his throat again. All that length plowed into him, his throat apple straining around the obvious, twitching outline of Brooklyn's shaft. The gargoyle stepped over Matt's shoulder, his neck craned upwards, looking up at his rapist, his new master. Brooklyn huffed as Matt's esophagus squeezed and spasmed, as he sucked and swallowed, throat buzzing and burning. Matt forgot about his dripping dick, whole body trained on the overwhelming taste/sight/touch of his master.

Brooklyn reached down and rubbed his throat. “You're meant for this, aren't you, pet?"

Tears streaming down his face as he choked, Matt could only answer by swallowing harder.

“I'm—ah, fuck—gonna cum soon. You want that, don't you pet?"

Matt needed it like he needed air. He didn't dare fight back, trembling again, chest starting to ache.

“Shit, keep tightening your throat… Gods…" Brooklyn was panting, tongue hanging from his beak. The ballsack at Matt's chin began to tighten. “I should have just raped you when I… nnng, saw you…" Brooklyn's claws on the back of his head dug into his scalp. “You—dammit… fucking bitch slut scum—choke on it!" Brooklyn roared, and Matt felt the pulsing surge of seed flood down the entire length of that shaft before it erupted into his esophagus. Brooklyn's tail lashed against the roof, shattering a slate tile as cum cascaded into Matt's throat so fast he felt its slimy weight working down into his stomach until the gargoyle shoved him away.

Matt fell backwards once again coughing, wheezing, dragging breath back into his mouth. When he looked up with eyes blurred from tears, he should have run seeing Brooklyn on his knees, mighty shaft jumping and lashing the rooftop and that beautiful red body with more strokes of white. But any sense in Matt had been shattered—it didn't matter his throat and lungs still stung, he needed to taste his master's essence. He crawled on hands and knees to it, coat, shirt, neck, and jawline sprayed with another clench of Brooklyn's balls before his hands wrapped round its shaft. Matt's lips closed a tight seal around the gargoyle's glans, fingers pumping the pulsing prick as rich ropes of hot cum poured into his mouth. Too much to swallow at once: from his lips leaked sticky strands down his jaw, swaying in the air, the rest being swallowed, gagging on it, Matt refusing to release his hold on that throbbing member as semen still gushed with each squeeze of those plump testes.

Brooklyn grabbed his shoulders, Matt expecting to be pushed away or pushed down, but the gargoyle seemed to hold him there, satisfied to let Matt nurse his shaft until the orgasm ebbed. Brooklyn's creamy essence had burned its way into Matt's brain: its pungent, heady aroma, its thick, gooey consistency, its viscosity close to honey, its salty flavor verging on an umami earthiness.

Finally, Brooklyn nudged him backwards. Matt opened his mouth, showing the milky coating painting his tongue and mouth before he swallowed it all. Brooklyn's cock still hung between them, hard and eking out its final drops of cum.

Panting, Brooklyn said, “You, hah, know we're not done, don't you pet?"

Matt quietly nodded, words hard to form around his daze.

“You don't want to be done either, do you?"

“...n-no…" Matt licked his lips, tearing himself away from ogling the loins before him to look up at Brooklyn. “I… I want you…"

“No, pet, you don't want me, you need me."

“Need," Matt breathed, liking the shape on his tongue. Needed. Like he couldn't live without his master.

“That's right, now take off your clothes."

Matt did quickly as he could, his shaft still rigid in the warm summer night. Brooklyn now stood, dragging Matt up on shaky legs, knees stiff from staying on them for so long. Brooklyn easily turned him around and hugged Matt back to chest, that towering pillar of meat snug between them, cum smearing into the small of his back.

Brooklyn growled in his ear, “I should have taken you the first time I had you like this."

Matt bit his bottom lip, yelping when Brooklyn swept him off his feet. He wrapped his arms under Matt's knees, easily holding him up, legs spread, utterly exposed to the public like this. Not that anyone saw, but if someone on the top floor of the apartments across the street peeked out to them…

The thought just made him whimper. Let them see.

Fat glans ground into his exposed pucker. Brooklyn locked his hands around Matt's nape in a full nelson and whispered, “Guide it in, pet."

Fortunately, Brooklyn's potent balls coursed a constant stream of lubricant, silver fluid now speckled with flecks of seed. It already seeped into Matt's dark, wrinkled pucker as he aligned Brooklyn's big breeder with his hole. The gargoyle stabbed upwards, and Matt's rim caved in. No part of his body able to resist this stud, as that shaft throbbed around his stinging ring of muscle. Matt groaned, toes curling as just the first few inches slid in.

“There we go, just give into it."

“M-more… please," Matt mewled, as Brooklyn forced him down, hips rolling up. His walls pried apart by the dick digging deeper into him. Those glans crushed his prostate, the pressure radiating through Matt's member. “Oh fuck…" he gasped, unable to stop his cock from twitching with another spurt of pre.

“Moan for me. I want you to make enough noise people on the street hear," Brooklyn ordered, Matt all happy to oblige as red hips rolled back, shaft slipping out his yawning hole only to be jammed back inside it. Matt grit his teeth, eyes watering. The burning inside was ebbing, leaving only the immense pressure soothed by the liquid heat seeping into his insides. Matt watched his lower abdomen bulge as he was filled out; Brooklyn's hips pistoned again, and the bulge suddenly snaked to his navel. Panting, feeling like the wind was knocked from him, Matt couldn't believe his body could take so much punishment. That it could be so pliant for this beast. It simply proved his master right. This is what he was made for. His body a thing to serve this mightier species.

Brooklyn groaned behind him. “How are you always so tight, pet?"

Matt could only moan, feeling the pulse beat through that towering shaft, his innards squeezing around it. Brooklyn snarled and began his rut, his hips suddenly driving hard. Matt would have screamed if each massive thrust didn't wind him. His ululations always cut off by cock beating deep inside him, whole body reverberating with each hard smack. Intense, sharp pressure shot down his shaft each time Brooklyn ground into his prostate. Every long stroke sawing along that pleasure button and absolutely smothering it, nerves radiating outwards through the rest of his body with a kind of pleasure he could never give himself.

With every raping thrust of that pistoning cock, more of Matt became utterly devoted to servicing it, body and mind utterly tamed, domesticated by Brooklyn's beastly dick. His tongue lolled from his mouth, eyes rolling backwards as he came, the forceful fuck making his dick rock forward and back in the air with the rest of his body, sending strings of seed everywhere: across him, Brooklyn's arms, the roof, his clothes bundled nearby. His throat became too hoarse to even scream, whimpering and whining, pleading with the heavens for mercy while Brooklyn offered none. The claws at the back of his neck pricking deep into his skin as his snarling master fucked him past any recognition of his former self.

***

Brooklyn had never been this rough to anyone. All the frustrations trying to protect a city that didn't want to be protected was taken out on his helpless pet, who received it screaming his joy to the city. Maybe all these humans just needed to be dominated like this. An all too tempting thought with this one's tight walls constricting around his shaft like it wanted to suffocate it. Still, Matt's inner muscles were helpless to his powerful, driving thrusts. Rutting the human to the point of erupting all over the place.

Seeing that filled Brooklyn with a domineering satisfaction. This human belonged to him. Perhaps humans' obedience could be kept with a brutal dicking. The thought of doing this again and again, breaking in every criminal and turning them into his slutty little toys made Brooklyn's balls churn. A stud like him could own this town if he wanted. The writhing little pet getting his insides rearranged offered the proof. Brooklyn couldn't hold himself back. He roared so loud the whole city block heard him.

Brooklyn slammed Matt down on his dick and felt it flex and throb in that tight little body, glans swelling before flushing Matt's insides with cum. Beak grit, Brooklyn rolled his hips in shallow thrusts, keeping those silky walls grinding along his shaft. His wings juddered with each new ropy spray of semen. Dominating and breaking someone like this brought him to a point of ecstasy he never imagined. Cock so sensitive every little ripple of the walls he'd sheathed himself in brought another rush of seed. His body dumped cum into this broken human like he was trying to knock up a whole harem. It flooded out around his balls and leaked into the ground, pooling and painting the roof white.

The rapture of this warm body hugged tight around his pole, pinned to it, went on and on, Brooklyn continuously snarling as he fucked that abused hole, more and more semen spilling out with each pump. And even with all the mess, Brooklyn's liquid heat filled out Matt's lower abdomen enough to make it pot-bellied. He huffed and leaned his horned brow against the back of Matt's head, taking a breath as his adrenaline and endorphins finally eased from his intoxicating climax.

Matt reached backward and grabbed one of his horns, words slurred as he said, “H-holy shit… you're—you've never fucked me like that."

Brooklyn broke his full nelson to hold Matt more comfortably, beak sliding against his lover's cheek as he asked, “I wasn't too rough, was I?"

“I… I didn't say softball, did I?" Matt asked rhetorically. He stroked Brooklyn's cheek. “God, I was way too into that."

“...me too," Brooklyn admitted sheepishly.

“Mmm, maybe we do it again the next time you need to blow off steam?"

This whole idea had been Matt's. The case involving the Mutate Serum happened a week before, only that criminal had actually walked away. Brooklyn had been furious, but that didn't mean fake raping his human boyfriend needed to be his primary coping mechanism. “Are you sure—"

“Babe, this was easily the best sex we've had. Fuck I'm going to be sore tomorrow."

“Yeah, heh, sorry," Brookly said as his shaft began to soften, slowly being squeezed from Matt's rear. “We should probably get out of here."

“Mmm, back to my apartment? We can get cleaned up and just relax the rest of the night."

“Your shower isn't big enough for me."

“I'm pretty sure I proved tonight you don't need a shower when you have me."

“Heh," Brooklyn nuzzled his cheek. “You weren't even playing about needing me."

Matt kissed his beak. “Hardest part was pretending I didn't."