FSE

Furry search engine

formerly SoFurry search engine

--1

"Yeah, of course I'd love to hang out! But," and here Kitt smiled slyly, as if he were about to ask for a lewd and impolite favor, "I wanna do your hair if we meet up."

Desmond flicked it back with his palm. The gesture was effortless and breezy, making his locks fan out behind his shoulders. Kitt watched with awe as the hair caught the sunlight filtering through the blinded and silkscreened window. In the warm light, it shimmered like gold. "I'll give that a tentative yes," the small Desmond said. His smile was just as coy as Kitt's, if not more so, because where Kitt was a foxcat with more credit to the former, Desmond was a foxcoon with all the snide sneering that that mix entailed. "But only because you clearly take such good care of yours."

Kitt's smile turned modest and his cheeks took on a mild glow. He ran his fingers through his raven hair, loving the silky smoothness. Mama Bear's Hair Care did the best work in town as far as he was concerned, and the fact that Desmond went there too made him good company right from the start.

"I'll come pick you up sometime," said Desmond evenly. He gave Kitt a longing once-over, but focused in particular on the foxcat's thick belly.

Following Desmond's gaze and noting where it ended up, the chubby Kitt rubbed his gut nonchalantly, as a tall and stacked woman might adjust her bust, pretending nobody is watching. A moment later and his eyes met Desmond's. "You do that," he said in almost a titter. He and the foxcoon shared a casual hug before they went their separate ways.

Kitt didn't know if Desmond was very excited to meet up, but he was awfully eager for it, himself.

--2

It came to be that Desmond finally texted Kitt a week and a day later, mentioning that he finally had some time off work - and he noted how his hair needed a good brushing. He showed up at Kitt's place right on time.

The foxcat glanced across the console at Desmond. He thought the foxcoon's car was a little small and the seat belt was tight, but he let it all slide. Seeing Desmond and all that beautiful hair of his had a way of making Kitt even more jolly than usual, and when the foxcoon glanced over, Kitt snared him with a friendly smile.

"Kind of a shitty day today, isn't it?" the twink said in a bullshitting kind of tone. "First time it rains all summer, and we get record rainfall."

Kitt chuckled. "Have you seen the forecast? Hail, tornadoes, all that bad stuff. Gotta be honest... thunder kinda spooks me."

Desmond, waiting at the red light, frowned. "Poor thing. Doesn't really bug me."

Another smile was exchanged, this one smaller, tighter - more coy. "Makes me really cuddly, actually... just wanna press up close to whoever's nearest. Gettin' all smoochy and grabby tends to take my mind right off of the storm."

"I'll just have to keep that in mind, won't I," Desmond very dryly said, and he drove through the intersection.

Nearly an hour's drive took them from Kitt's apartment to Desmond's home, a pretty rural cottage which Kitt was silently envious of. He had no idea what Desmond did for a living, and didn't think it prudent to ask, but the niceness of the home he called his own - which, nestled between wheat fields and with a powerful oak tree in its front yard, could have been a postcard vista on a sunny day - made the foxcat playfully think of such vocations as movie star or doctor or drug dealer. And then he thought, just as playfully, that the latter two weren't mutually exclusive, and he laughed, earning a sharp glance from Desmond.

"Sorry! I'm sorry," he giggled into his fingers, jostling a little with the car as it rumbled along a gravel driveway. "Just, um, remembered something funny."

"Mm," Desmond muttered, and he pulled into the garage, the door of which smoothly purred open when he hit a button over the rear-view mirror which Kitt hadn't previously noticed.

As the wet car dripped onto the concrete floor, Desmond and Kitt stepped out, and the foxcat got his duffel from the trunk. Noticing its bulk, Desmond snidely asked, "All that for an afternoon?"

Kitt smiled with embarrassment. "It's gonna storm pretty bad, you already know that. I figured if things got too rough, I might just have to crash with you... so, y'know, I brought some stuff in case of that. Toothbrush, pajamas, a blanket. Uh--, uh, you know," he laughed it off, and waved it off too. "Just some amenities."

Standing in the threshold to the den, at the top of the wooden steps with Kitt at the bottom, Desmond appeared barely taller than the foxcat. He licked his lips in thought, gave the bottom one a suckle, then said, "If you end up staying the night, I think I'd just let you use my bed."

Desmond turned and left, going into the house proper. Kitt was hot on his heels, belly bobbing slightly with each step. He was quietly delighted by the rustic beauty of the house, although in the same breath, he realized it was just very old. An antique is just a beat-up dresser someone wants four hundred bucks for, Kitt recalled, though he couldn't remember which one of his straight-shooting uncles had said that. He let it fade without appending a name to it.

Like finding a bookmark that had disappeared down between the pages, Kitt suddenly remembered his spot in the conversation. "Oh, well," he laughed, "I'd hate to make you sleep in your own floor."

The foxcoon glanced over his shoulder, flashing a look which was both severe and coy. "Who said I'd be sleeping in the floor?" He rounded a corner, and when Kitt followed, he found himself leaving a fairly narrow hall for a spacious den. It had a large window offering a view of the wheat fields (another postcard picture there he thought) and a fireplace, but also a wall-mounted television and a black, curving, modern sofa which had some orange and white fur smeared on it here and there.

"Your house is really nice," Kitt sighed. "I love it."

Desmond was smiling, albeit not in Kitt's direction. He placed his shoes on a plastic mat off to the side. Kitt politely did the same, though his enormous boots barely fit on it. "Thanks, sweetie. I inherited it. It was kind of a fixer-upper, but a little woodworking is fun." He glanced at Kitt, still smiling - which spurred the foxcat to crank up his own cute smile - and walked to the couch, which he delicately sat on with his legs folded under him. "Sit with me. Relax."

"Oh, I'm plenty relaxed," Kitt chuckled, dropping his duffel by the sofa. The sofa was in the corner, curving along it with a tall lamp in the unused space between it and the walls. Kitt thought, with the coffee table near it, that it made for a comfortable nook within the den, and sliding into the curving spot elicited a short, feline purr from him. "Mmm, this is nice and cozy... better than my futon," he said with a mock bitterness.

The foxcoon sneered and leaned over Kitt, surprising the dark-haired foxcat with his forwardness. His groin rested on Kitt's thick thigh, his paws coming down on the foxcat's flank and the cushion of the sofa. He came up short for a kiss but made up for it with a gentle rub on Kitt's gut.

A deep, resounding purr welled up in Kitt, and his grin nearly split his face. "Mmm, belly rubs," he sighed. "If there's a faster way into my heart, I haven't found it."

Desmond laughed and humped up further on Kitt, then gave the foxcat a smooch on his short snout. "You like having your stomach rubbed, huh?"

Kitt was often playful, but he could be coy. With a smile evoking the fullness of his fox side, he asked, "I'm willing to bet I like belly rubs like you like horse dicks. What do you say to that?"

"I say I might like a thick, flared dong up my ass," Desmond allowed, managing to somehow say this with refined, pinky-out pomposity, "but I also think there's a foxcat on my couch with a smart mouth who needs his fat butt reamed."

Rising like the modulated rumble of thunder, Kitt's purr became a soft quaking in Desmond's narrow body. His catlike tail, though partially stuck between his butt and the sofa back, began to swish. "If that's supposed to be a threat, it's no-o-ot a very good o-o-one," he teasingly sung. "I like it up the butt just as much as you do, cutie."

With a little laugh, Desmond asked, "Okay, but what happened to brushing our hair?"

Kitt, on his side, wrapped his free arm around the foxcoon. He felt around to Desmond's bottom, and as he clutched it, he thought how nice and round Desmond's ass felt... but he took narcissistic pride in how much thicker and fatter his own was. He smooched the foxcoon on the nose and murmured, "We-e-ell, we still can. I mean, afterward. 'Sides, my hair always gets all tangled and really needs a brushing after I get fucked."

"I like the way you think," Desmond teased, easing off of Kitt. The foxcat held him as he went, raking his claws gently up the foxcoon's back. That this evoked a shudder from Desmond made Kitt himself giggle. "Let's get that fat butt out in the open."

With chubby but only mildly clumsy fingers, Kitt opened up his fly. Underneath, purple and gaudy (but eye-catching, as was their purpose), a pair of boxers with a distinct tentpole in the middle waited.

Tugging down Kitt's jeans, Desmond took a look at the boxers and shook his head, chuckling. "Nice color."

"Well, see, I figured tha-a-at," Kitt murmured with cute shame, wiggling his toes as Desmond pulled his jeans off all the way, "I might get lucky, so I wore my best boxers. What's the problem?"

"No problem at all," the foxcoon purred with a wink, grabbing Kitt's erection so suddenly that the foxcat gasped. "Just makes me a lil' self-conscious that I only wore some briefs."

A seemingly ever-present purr rumbling in his chest, Kitt said, "Something, something, it's what's inside that counts." He smirked, stuck his tongue out a little bit. "I bet you have a big dick. Seems like most guys I meet do."

Desmond said nothing, hooking his fingers into Kitt's boxers. As he peeled them down, he studied the overhang of the foxcat's tubby belly. In that moment, before the meat was revealed and things went irrevocably to the next level, Desmond felt a little bit shameful that he couldn't be fat and proud of it like Kitt. Being a girly prettyboy isn't all that bad though, part of him said, and he looked up, meeting the foxcat's eager eyes.

Kitt's cock, freed from his purple boxer shorts, sprung free and narrowly missed the near tip of Desmond's chin. Dense and cleanly circumcised, its pink tip throbbed needfully in the open air. A bead of precum formed in the tiny cleft on the glans; Desmond gingerly licked it off and smiled at Kitt's resulting coo.

"Nice cock, babe," said Desmond, pulling Kitt's underwear down a little bit more, around to his knees. He nosed into the foxcat's plump balls as they spilled out between his chubby thighs and licked up through their fluffy fur. He continued upward along the bottom of Kitt's waiting cock, and when his tongue began to run out of cock to lick, he gulped the shaft down into his long, narrow snout, coaxing a shuddering groan from Kitt.

"Ooh, gawd," Kitt breathed. "Tha-a-anks... nice tongue," he counter-complimented with a titter. Uncertainly, "Can I--? Can I pet your hair?" Kitt liked when his hair was petted without warning, but it was simple hair etiquette to keep in mind that other men weren't so friendly with the idea.

Around Kitt's thick phallus - which filled his maw out neatly yet wasn't quite long enough to make it into his throat - Desmond murmured, "Mhm." As he started his slow bobs and firm sucks, Kitt stroked through his hair. Blonde hairs, fine like corn silk but nowhere near as clingy, sluiced pleasantly through his fingers. Kitt was mock-jealous: he and Desmond used the same conditioner, he'd seen the foxcoon buying it, so why wasn't his own hair so silky-smooth? Clearly, the foxcoon was cheating somehow.

It was, of course, hard to be grumpy at the fox, even playfully. Kitt couldn't recall ever getting a blowjob that was so subdued but pleasurable; he realized that the descriptor for Desmond's performance was subtle. His sucks were firm, even harsh, but his face rarely scrunched up with effort. The bobs he gave were slow and casual even as rain pattered forcefully on the window.

"Touch me, please," Kitt whispered, a smile creasing his wide, catty face and adding to his mellow, fat housecat appearance. When Desmond did begin to touch him (his paws had been idle on the couch cushions previously), Kitt was incredibly gratified. The foxcoon's soft black paws with their smooth pink pads stroked over, but especially under Kitt's t-shirt. He wasn't rubbing the foxcat's fat belly so much as he was caressing it, never quite going with the grain of the fur, but never really bothering Kitt, either.

"Mmm, ye-e-es, that's the ticket," Kitt giggled, allowing himself to recline completely. He took his fingers off of Desmond's head and rubbed up along his own belly, passing the foxcoon's paws and grasping his own moobs. Except for his nipples, which he gave a little tweak to, there was no more eroticism in touching his moobs than there was in having his belly rubbed; Kitt was just happy to have his plus-sized body loved on.

Slowly and casually, fooling Kitt into thinking it was just another calm move, Desmond pulled his sticky jowls off the foxcat's blunt cock and gave it a kiss just beneath the cap that was the glans. Watching it throb so close to his nose, Desmond chuckled, "Mind if I go cowboy on you?"

Kitt's cheeks were flushed, but his grin was coy. "With a ten-gallon hat and a six-shootin' big iron on your hip?"

Desmond laughed and nipped Kitt on the bottom edge of his gut. "Shut up. Lemme go find my lube."

When Desmond sauntered off with hips swaying, Kitt felt it was implied that he should stay put. Catlike curiosity won out just as soon as the twink was out of the room, and Kitt doddered after him, vainly enjoying the sight of his gleaming penis jutting past his gut and the way it swaggered back and forth with each step. Yep, that's a pretty big dick, he found himself thinking, and a grin crossed his snout. Gonna stick it in a cute fox, too. That's what big dicks're made for, after all.

Following the sounds of rummaging and a shaft of light cast into the hall, Kitt located Desmond easily. Despite his large and fat body, he was still mostly a cat with all the grace which that entailed, and he padded silently behind the foxcoon. He didn't want to chance getting too close - he knew Desmond's keen senses could pick him up even if he was dead silent - and moreover, he didn't want an elbow in the face (though one in the belly would've done little more than bounce off).

His point of attack decided, Kitt licked his lips and reared up with his arms, fingers splayed and a big grin on his face. His cock still jutted out from his loins like a thick, pink root, bumping the bottom of his belly before managing to curve past it. He would have appreciated his profile in the nearby mirror if not for his imminent strike, but before he could shriek boo! at the foxcoon, Desmond cut the fun short.

"If you tickle me, or grab my ass, or scream in my ear," he glanced over his shoulder, smiling humorlessly, "I'll pluck your whiskers one by one."

Kitt's eyes stopped smiling a few seconds before his mouth did, leaving him in that awkward, reared-up posture with a confused expression. Finally he moaned: "Aw, you're no fun." Never one to be put off for long, Kitt wrapped his capable arms around the twink and kissed the back of his neck. Purring sweetly, he asked, "Any luck with that lu-u-ube? My dick's wa-a-aiting." It was, in fact; it was impatiently grinding into the seat of Desmond's pants.

"Mmh," Desmond huffed, bucking his bottom into Kitt. "I must've used the last of it."

The foxcat giggled. "Bad Dragon collector?"

Desmond grunted. "No," he lied. "Well, we'll just do this the old-fashioned way. Lay back on the bed, hot stuff."

In spite of a long submissive streak, Kitt was still a cat with a playful feline side. From his lips and amplified by a barrel chest came a sultry mro-o-owl right into the twink's ear. "Mmm-mmm," he declined shortly thereafter. "You lay back." And before the fox could resist or obey, Kitt thrust him onto the bed with his stout strength. He had a big, almost dumb smile on his face the entire time, but it was especially notable as he straddled Desmond, bumping snouts with him when the foxcoon tried to sit up. He smooched his host on the lips, giving them a swab with his rough tongue. "I wanna be on top for a lil' bit. Let me know if you get uncomfortable."

"Sure," the foxcoon murmured, though Kitt was already halfway down his chest, planting soft kisses on him through his tee. The kisses were followed often by firm nuzzles, and the foxcat's lengthy and dexterous tail swayed above his naked rear.

"Mmm, you're so cu-u-ute," Kitt crooned, pulling up Desmond's tee as he neared the waist of his jeans. Purring deeply, he kissed the pencil-thin line of Desmond's blonde bush and palmed the small, but eager bulge in his jeans. "So small and cute," he corrected with a gentle laugh.

"Oh, very funny," Desmond puffed. "It gets the job done."

The foxcat was too nice to have been mocking Desmond's small penis. The thought had never even occurred to him, but the idea wasn't disconcerting enough that he set the record straight. As he opened the twink's fly, however, exposing stark white briefs with a smidgen of precum staining them, he realized with some amusement that Desmond was very small downstairs.

Small penis or no, Kitt still found Desmond cute and charming. He kissed the head of the foxcoon's cock through his briefs and closed his lips around the knob for a firm, but brief suck. Desmond gasped and arched his back slightly, an inversion of Kitt's ready-to-pounce posture from before.

Digging his teeth into the briefs carefully, Kitt pulled back, letting the covered nubs of his teeth drag over the foxcoon's cockflesh. Shivers raced through Desmond's body, making him squirm and whine, adding to Kitt's own pleasure. The foxcat's erection had waned, but he was as thrilled as ever to hear Desmond's outspoken pleasure.

The waistband of the briefs cleared Desmond's meat, and though it sprung out under tension, the motion was brief and unimpressive. The thin blonde line from his navel downward fanned out into a plush, blonde bush, carefully manscaped so as to make the central figure of his cock look a little bigger. Kitt wasn't fooled, but he wasn't derisive, either. He nuzzled Desmond's uncut penis firmly and purred louder than ever. "Mmm, nice cock, it's so warm," Kitt cooed. "Smells so good, too."

Softly and slowly, Kitt began to take in Desmond's shaft. Much like the foxcoon had sucked upon him, Kitt returned the favor. He was clumsier and Desmond didn't give him a lot to work with, but the texture of his tongue added to the experience immensely. Desmond found himself jealous of Kitt for having a tongue which was both long and floppy like a dog's, but rough like a cat's.

"Ooh, my gawd," Desmond breathed, threading his fingers through Kitt's dark hair. "Mmm, but wait. If you're gonna suck me off, I want something to do too."

"Mmh?" Kitt inquired, peeking up at Desmond from the tops of his eyes, a bushy black eyebrow popped upward.

Desmond licked his lips, meeting Kitt's eyes. "Sit on my face. I want to tongue your butthole."

It was the calmness of Desmond's outrageous demand that excited Kitt the most - the foxcoon was obviously hungry for some thick ass, but he was, again, subtle. Kitt found that so much more alluring than the aggressive, outspoken partners he'd been with that he had no hope of resisting the command. He popped his lips off of the foxcoon's meat and eagerly wheeled around on the bed, letting his fat ass and heavy, low-hanging balls loom above the foxcoon's snout.

"You sure about this?" he asked, nearly out-of-breath with excitement. "It's a little musky in there... sweaty too."

"You think I don't know that?" Desmond snapped, grabbing Kitt by the hips. With a firm heave, Desmond pulled the foxcat down, forcing his ass to crash into the bed - and Desmond's face by extension - with meteoric force. Kitt yipped in surprise and blushed cherry red; he was used to rimjobs but shocked by the hunger of the foxcoon. He was even concerned that his wide load of a bottom might suffocate or simply crush his little friend, but Desmond's prompt and eager suckles and slurps dispelled any worries the foxcat harbored.

Against the lewd and sudden worship it was receiving, Kitt's small, pink anus winked wildly. He stared down at the foxcoon's groin and thought without an ounce of irony or remorse, I'm willing to bet his tongue is so much more satisfying than his dick's gonna be. But all the same, and with his purring beginning again, he doubled over and gulped Desmond's cock up in his humid maw. Every precious inch was suckled and squeezed, slobbered and tugged. Kitt couldn't tell, however, if the foxcoon's sudden groaning had to do with the blowjob or the ass on his face. Either way, the foxcat felt like quite a stud.

Bliss and desire made Desmond an odd combination of complacent and sexually ferocious. His tail was swishing a lazy arc against the bed, his paws stroking the foxcat's fat ass cheeks for a slow, fond effect, but his tongue slathered hungrily on Kitt's clenching asshole. Sweat and musk, the ever-present companions of the overweight, kept Desmond ravenous. He slobbered up through his chubby new friend's deep ass crack a few times more, then pushed his jowls against the pucker of his anus. With a wet, sharp noise, he smooched the small ring and gave it a suck, and Kitt's sudden moan was as sincere as it was pleasurable around Desmond's penis.

Oh, boy, Kitt heard; the little voice in his head sounded more coy than usual. Ooh boy, it reiterated, he's gonna make you cum just from licking your butt. It's gonna happen. You sure you wanna blow on his chest like that? Bet he'd make fun of you for it...

The voice was right, Kitt realized with his mouth still sucking on the foxcoon's short, but stout cock on autopilot. He fondled the twink's modest balls in a manner which was just as robotic. No, I don't wanna pop like this, not when I'm not even inside of him... He felt around under Desmond's balls. This was not an automatic gesture; he was consciously exploring the cute foxcoon now. There was the taint, where the fur was at its thinnest, and he teased there gently with a claw. He heard a gasp from Desmond, felt hot breath gust through his ass crack, and then the twink bucked into his mouth. The corners of Kitt's maw twisted up for a grin.

Kitt felt lower, tracing the small groove of flesh in the taint all the way to the bullseye at the end. He retracted his claw before pushing the thick pad of his finger against Desmond's pucker. As though he'd pressed the foxcoon's ON button, Desmond lurched into action with a whine. His anus clenched against Kitt's finger and it felt briefly like he was trying to cram his nose into the foxcat's asshole. The chubby hybrid pulled his rump upward, letting out a muffled shriek around Desmond's cock. As he popped his lips off the foxcoon's cock, he started to giggle.

"Ooh, ea-a-asy there," he laughed, trying to look down past his belly to see Desmond's face, but he found it impossible. "You were about to make me pop."

"With just my tongue?" Desmond scoffed, and Kitt realized his fears had been justified. He shook his head and chuckled to himself, rolling onto his side, then his back, and he let his black hair hang off the edge of the bed.

Desmond sat up with the wobble of the mattress and climbed over top of Kitt, palming the foxcat's erection. "You know," he grumbled, unhanding Kitt's penis long enough to put himself over it, "we never did get my butt lubed up."

Kitt enjoyed a hard belly laugh, but it stopped when thunder shook the house. He flinched and winced... and was surprised when the foxcoon leaned over him, belly to belly, and kissed his lips. "You're safe," he cooed. "Only think about me."

"Thanks," Kitt murmured, meeting Desmond's eyes with a sheepish smile. "It's dumb to be scared of thunder anyway..."

"Maybe it is," the twink remarked, winking. He straightened out, pushed his slim butt against the foxcat's meat. "But everyone's scared of something dumb."

Moving slowly and thinking how funny it was that Kitt's erection hadn't suffered in spite of his fear, Desmond guided it against the small pucker of his asshole. He was still dry, though Kitt's penis was fairly lubed with its own precum. You've had worse, the little voice in Desmond's head told him, and he gave a small shrug in agreement. Down he went, grinding on Kitt's cock and smearing his pucker with lube. As the foxcat cooed and bit his lip, letting his head hang further off the bed and his toes curl, Desmond gradually penetrated himself. His well-trained bottom accepted Kitt in spite of the dryness. A slow descent and frequent oozes of precum mitigated the lack of lubrication, and by the time Desmond had wiggled himself down to Kitt's balls, his behind was slick enough to make things work.

"I don't say this very often," Desmond lied, beginning his ride slowly and cautiously, "but you've got one of the best dicks I've ever felt, baby."

"You're one of the best partners I've ever had," Kitt admitted with complete honesty. "Mmh, gawd, you're kinda perfect," he tittered. "Nice mouth, nice butt, cute dick, really pretty hair..."

Desmond palmed the curve of Kitt's gut. "And I like you 'cause you're tubby," he said, smirking. Precum oozed from his small cock, leaving the foxcat's pubic region damp and a little sticky.

A fresh purr resonated through Kitt's thick body. He pulled up his shirt, baring more of the plump, white curvature of his stomach. He caressed his own bulk, rubbing the spots Desmond wasn't and hardly minding as his fingers bumped the foxcoon's. "Mmmhmmm, that's a plu-u-us," he crooned. "I love guys who touch my belly."

Even though the sound seemed out-of-place coming from him, Desmond giggled. He gripped Kitt's chubby-fingered paws in his and quickened his formerly slow ride, letting his soft inner flesh work the foxcat in a way his mouth couldn't. "You're pretty cute overall, sugar," he sighed. "Although I can't say I'd sleep with you without the hair."

Kitt belly-laughed and pulled Desmond down, giving him a brisk smooch on the lips. He liked that his own musk scented the fox's face. "It's okay, I wouldn't blame you. I don't plan on losing the hair, so we're good."

Desmond kept close to Kitt, huffing and growling in the foxcat's face, shifting his ride to a gyration. His small penis frotted Kitt's stomach, matting down his soft white fur with a fair amount of precum, and he shared many gentle kisses and nuzzles with the purring foxcat. "I'm gonna cum on your belly," he matter-of-factly huffed. "Gawd, I really like how it feels."

"I do too," Kitt purred, slowly raking his claws down his effeminate partner's back. Thunder shook the house again, and Kitt's first reaction was to wince and whine. He knew he would have locked up and hurt Desmond by digging in his claws, so he took the foxcoon's advice and thought specifically how boy-pretty Desmond looked riding him. The fear passed, and pleasure loomed in its wake. Rolling back his eyes and grinding upward with his feet planted on the bed, he crooned, "Ooh my gawd, I'm gonna cum too... I'm so close, honey."

"Good. Very good," Desmond puffed, managing to sound so grounded even though an orgasm was on top of him. "I'm--, ah, I'm there." Still he gyrated, but now his ass began to clench violently, gripping Kitt in an exceptionally stimulating way.

Kitt was aware of his own impending climax, which had been helped along by the sucking and rimming and was about to be capped off by the slow, lazy cowboy ride. He felt a spot of spreading warmth on his belly, and he sighed in warmth and affection. Again came the thunder, but Kitt was too attached to Desmond at that moment to fear it. He nuzzled the prettyboy's long, sweat-stained snout, licked his cheek, fondled his round bottom. "I'm cumming," he huffed, feeling awkward for saying it but thinking it fair and somehow necessary to announce it like Desmond had.

Like he himself was, Kitt's orgasm proved voluminous but gentle. It filled Desmond in a few lazy, dense spurts, adding to the twink's pleasure with its gooey warmth. It didn't overfill him, simply staying plugged by Kitt's throbbing cock.

In the mutual afterglow, Kitt and Desmond kissed in that sloppy, tongue-heavy way reserved generally for lovers. Their long tongues rubbed together, tangling up into knots of tingling nerve endings and hot flesh, pricking on sharp teeth and grinding against ribbed palates for a banquet of sensations. As quickly as it started, the kiss wore thin, and Desmond drew back with a short-lived arc of mixed drool bridging his lower jowl and Kitt's.

"Thank you-u-u..." Kitt tiredly puffed, his chest rising and falling at a climactic, but already slowing pace. "God, that was so good..."

--3

Close to midnight, when the storm had reached the fullness of its wrath, the power went out and interrupted Desmond and Kitt's gaming session. "Aw, come on," Desmond moaned in the darkness, as the den was briefly lit by strobes of lighting.

Nervous in the storm, with the video game and Desmond's jocularity the only things keeping him from becoming a mess of panic, Kitt urgently dug out his phone and opened the flashlight app which he found dumb in practice, but which turned out to be surprisingly useful on more than one occasion. "Ah, this sucks," he whined. "Do you have any--?"

"Yeah, they're in the bedroom," Desmond huffed. "Just wait here. My eyes are adjusting to the dark."

"Can I come with you, please?"

Desmond looked back at Kitt, blinded himself in the phone's brilliant flashbulb light, and winced. Kitt muttered an apology and lowered the phone. "Yeah... come on," the foxcoon gently said.

Soon Desmond and Kitt entered the kitchen with their arms loaded with candles of all shape, smell and size. One by one with a few Diamond matches, Desmond lit them and the kitchen table gradually became a flickering torch of candlelight. They sat down together and Desmond stretched out, interlacing his fingers over his belly.

"Well," he muttered, "I got Uno and Yahtzee."

Kitt chuckled lamely, and flinched again when the light strobed and the thunder crashed. "Ah, god," he winced, "I'm such a pansy."

It was hard to read Desmond's face in the candlelight, but Kitt thought he was smirking. It therefore came as a surprise when Desmond warmly suggested, "How about you get your hairbrush? That's relaxing."

"It, um, it really is," Kitt giggled, and he got up - first to smooch Desmond on the lips, and then to run downstairs to the den. When he came back with his tried and true hairbrush, the fingers of which had a few black strands between them, he pulled his chair up close to Desmond's and sat backwards in it, resting his arms on the backrest. "Just be gentle, and--, uh, actually, you probably know how to brush hair," he sheepishly muttered.

Desmond snickered, starting to stroke through Kitt's long, pretty locks with the brush. "I know a thing or two," he snidely remarked.

"Yeah, yeah," Kitt huffed. "Mm, that's nice, though."

The foxcoon smiled. "I'm glad. Your hair's pretty. Love black hair."

"Really? I love blonde hair. I'd kill for hair like yours!"

"Grass is always greener," Desmond mumbled, and he gave Kitt's shoulder a gentle squeeze. "You can brush mine if you want."

Already, the brushing was having quite a therapeutic effect on the foxcat. He peeked over his shoulder and giggled. "I'll settle for running my fingers through it," he winked, "when you lay me on my back and fuck me."

One of Desmond's thin, blonde eyebrows popped up as the other furrowed. He smiled until it showed a hint of teeth. "And when do you wanna do that?"

Twisting around until he was in the chair side-saddle, Kitt grasped Desmond's groin through his briefs - since neither of them had bothered to put on more than the bare minimum following the first romp - and kissed his lips once again. "You don't have any plans right now, do you?"

The twink dropped the brush on the table. "None whatsoever. Let's do it right here. Tile's so easy to wipe clean."

"One stipulation," Kitt laughed, stepping out of his chair and tugging down his boxers. He found himself hoping he'd used the word correctly. "I want another nice, wet rimjob first."

Desmond nudged Kitt, making him sit on the floor. Even with some warning, he still managed to land on it with a bump. "Let's be real here," the foxcoon snickered as Kitt pulled off his boxers.

"Yeah, I know," Kitt snickered back. "You were gonna do it anyway..."