Lust of Convenience
A deep draw of breath was the only warning before a great yowling cry crawled out of the puma's throat. Back arching sharply, he crammed his hips against the snowy, upraised ass before him, sandwiching his curvy partner between the dark wall and his unyielding body. Heat spread through the raccoon's bowels, punctuated with the thrashing jerk and grind behind him, rolling the full shaft around inside of him.
Fleshy little nubs ringing the base of the feline's dick tickled over his partner's anal ring with every yank of the pelvis, bowing the raccoon's back even more so, dragging gasps from where his cheek lay pressed up against the wall. Orgasm for the raccoon was close. Without a reach around, it takes a certain angle and intensity to push him over, and the puma was raking right over his prostate.
And just like that, the cougar pulled out.
Digits wrapped around Micah's black-banded tail, wiping away the mess of his loins. The puma dispensed a pat over a plush, upraised ass cheek.
"Thanks," he offered, leaned down to pick up his jeans, and walked away.
Micah was left exposed to the backroom, a den of thumping techno beats that drown out most of the slapping bodies and moans. Blue, purple and red lighting over dark walls meant the raccoon with his white fur stood out like a neon star.
Sinking to his knees, the raccoon rested his forehead against the wall, trying to catch the breath that had been pounded out of him. Muscles in his thighs and lower back, worked from all that thrusting and arching, burned from use. He was sore. Syrupy spunk trickled out of his pucker, clinging along the divide between his cheeks. Still aroused, his shaft bobbed about between his thighs, pulsing for attention.
Getting off or not, he needed to flop over or sit down.
Conveniently, the sounds of breathy conversation and a grunt caught his ear from the left. Glancing over, he spied a Doberman draped over a couch, pulling his knot from under an oryx, resulting in a messy rush of fluids. Paper towels were collected from a dispenser above the couch, and both made hasty grooming exercises before getting up. Since the two had time to cool down, they didn't need to recuperate like he did.
After tugging the vinyl shorts and thong off his ankles, he rose, stumbled and flopped sideways across the couch. For now he didn't care what from the couch stained his fur and tight shirt. Relaxation came once legs were adjusted to provide a comfortable position for savoring.
After a thorough bout of anal sex, there's a definite ache that remains. Not unpleasant, but definitely a feeling of fullness, one that lets the receiver know he'd been taken. It's a satisfying feeling, at least for the raccoon; the testament of a job well done, and every time he sits down, it's a reminder of his sexiness. Given the cougar's vigor and size, said reminder was significant. Come wetting the divide of his cheeks wasn't bad either.
By now, the screaming erection had turned into a more lackluster one. Still, there was no way he wasn't going to finish that off. But a sudden realization prevented that: he was lying on his jerking-off arm. It would have required effort to cajole a passerby for a blowjob, and he was fresh out of charm at the moment.
With no desire to move, Micah grudgingly cupped his shaft with a dark-furred paw. The caresses and rubbings that followed were lazy and half-hearted, but it didn't stop him from fantasizing, half about the thorough ass-pounding he'd received, and half about giving the puma a punch in the nose for leaving him hanging. The bastard. For some time the 'coon lay there stroking, ignoring the rude looks when someone realized he took up a suitable fucking surface, and otherwise oblivious to his surroundings.
A thump across his face disrupted the lackadaisical wanking. Micah sat up from his daydream, brushing a black, jaw-length bang out of his face.
Long and thick, a rudder-like tail thumped and twitched across the opposite arm of the couch. The appendage was attached to the seizure-like writhing over an exuberant, chittering otter. Webbed paws clung to the wall and back of the couch, while his butt was pressed up against the sofa's end, head lolled back to show off the tussled tuft of blonde hair. Perhaps it was the mustelid's natural scent, or his beat up tank top hadn't been washed, but whatever the cause, he smelled like the beach (the fact the scent could be picked up in such a musk-rich room was impressive).
From behind Beachboy's hip bounced a rounded ear. Tilting to peer around, Micah could make out the darting pump of a black rodent's face. The 'coon was about to lay back down when the rodent's technique caught his eye.
First, the ebon head would roll to one side, denting his cheek with Beachboy's glans, then twist when he reached the apex, only to do the same cheek-denting trick on the way down, the whole circuit a head-bobbing oval. Then, after a few moments, gears shifted; his head would twist like a corkscrew as he drew up, only to go the opposite when he went down. Each sharp swivel threw a multitude of tight, neck-length braids up over the rodent's - no, the mouse's - cheek.
Beachboy suddenly barked and snapped his teeth in the air, then just started writhing like an epileptic snake. The ecstatic convulsions drew him forwards, then back and up rather, pulling his dick from the rodent's mouth. Whiteness spilled across the cocksucker's muzzle.
It took Beachboy a few seconds to come down, but then he was all over the rodent. Micah laid back down, but could barely hear the conversation over the music.
"Oh, sorry dude, here." A paper towel rattled from the dispenser. "Just kinda got... y'know."
Paper towels rustled before Braids returned, in an almost eloquent voice, "It's all right; I can handle a little roughness. You taste good." Whatever he said next was garbled in the music.
"Oh, you're still hard. Here..." Above Micah's head, the couch arm rustled. Beachboy turned around, bent over, and for the first time realized the raccoon was laying there.
Braids stood up too, putting a hand on Beachboy's back. "No, that's okay. I'm not really a top." Then he spotted Micah, which brought a reddening along the inside of his ears.
Micah merely smiled, took his hand off his dick, and wiggled fingers in greeting.
Beachboy glanced over his shoulder, his ears flattening. "But guy, I'm not good at head. I get a little carried away, and a lot of teeth, and-"
"That's okay. I just wanted to do you." Braids smiled, but it was strained.
It appeared that was as far as Beachboy's concern, or observational skills, could go. "Okay!" he returned, chipper as could be. With an affectionate lick across the mouse's whiskers, he was gone, back into the main floor of the dance club.
Braids leaned against the edge of the sofa, propping his head against the wall and sighed.
Micah propped his muzzle in a paw, permitting him a better look at the mouse. Slender shoulders held up a silky blue shirt, unbuttoned to show off the dark fur clinging over a tight chest. The thin material gave away a nipple-ring when he breathed in. Being crotch level, the 'coon could clearly see the fullness concealed by a layer of thin denim.
"That sucks."
Braids peeked out from under his eyelids. "Yeah."
"Happened to me too." A shift of his posture, veiled as a stretch, gave Braids a look down the line of his body, right over his naked lower half. Though for modesty's sake - or rather, to provide a tease - Micah's ringed tail draped over his hip, allowing only a glimpse of skin.
For a second, there was a glint of interest in those hazel eyes, then an almost shy smile. Braids pushed off the wall, starting to slip off. It put a tight ass concealed by daisy dukes and a slim, naked tail into view.
Grasping for straws, Micah blurted, "Hey, you uh..." He tapped his chin as the mouse turned around. "Y'got a little spunk..." A little game of "no, here" transpired, until the imaginary blob had managed to be wiped clean.
Sitting up, smiling to himself about the dull ache in his ass, Micah swept his hand towards the free side of the sofa.
Braids hesitated, toying with one of the dangling pieces of hair, then slid forward, easing into place not far from Micah. Those hazel eyes swept over the half-naked guy beside him, gauging. Compared to the androgynous sleekness of Braids, Micah was girly - feminine hips, strong thighs and a dense ass provided by equal parts aerobics and chocolate. At least they had similar, slender upper bodies.
Shaking his head, offering a laugh, Braids glanced up. "This - not getting off - happens to me enough. You too, apparently. Why do we put up with it?"
"Well, I know why I do," murmured the raccoon. A tilt allowed him to lean closer a hint, shoulder propping against the sofa's back. "I like cock." With a casual, unashamed tone, he continued. "Any way I can get it. In me, on me, spooge splashing my face or my back, getting stuffed while I'm bent in a multitude of positions, anything for it. I like getting off, sure, but half the fun seems to be just playing with it, seeing what'll happen."
Braids glanced off for a moment, before peeking back sidelong. "That sounds a tad slutty." His voice was teasing, though hesitant - unsure how sensitive that statement could be.
"Mmhm. And how about you?"
The mouse paused, a smile touching his lips even as he looked away. It looked boyish, like he had just discovered the magic of masturbation, yet dare not speak of it. The expression seemed so out of place for someone who just had come on his face.
Micah leaned forward, his nimble fingers smoothing over his conversation partner's chest, first the fingerpads, then his palm. Peering up through his bangs as though concerned, yet intrigued, he breathed, "Tell me?" His voice dropped low enough that, had he not been so close to a mouse, his words would have been swallowed by the music.
"You'll think it's silly," defended the oral exhibitionist, though sounding as though he might cave in at any moment, in no small part due to the nails teasing a nipple ring.
A sly smile caught Micah's lips. "Maybe," he noted while swirling a fingertip around the piercing, wiggling it from side to side, then along the top and bottom until the nipple had grown taut under his attentions. "But I could understand you completely."
Shivering underneath the tease, the cocksucker's lips parted. "I worship them." With gaze averted, he went on, tone melting from reluctance to quiet passion. "I see certain men and I'm inspired to touch every part of them, with my hands and mouth, etch them until I remember each inch. But I want to make them smile, make them groan, please them anyway I can."
When the mouse glanced back, Micah's face hovered inches away. Their eyes touched a moment before their lips.
The kiss was many things: a fracture for the tension to spill into heated wet muzzles moving together; a sizing up of one another in skill and passion like some oral tug of war, necks tensing to push against the other, then back off slowly, coaxing a chase while tongues wrestled; an excuse for Micah to ease the other male back, until shoulders propped against the couch's arm, chests pressed together, naked cock nestled against tight denim; a reminder of the situation - brief, hot, leaving those involved scorched and begging for more.
Micah pulled back, his fingers besting button and zipper as he savored the aftertaste of the cocksucker's mouth. The tang left by the otter was palpable and robust, something that sat on the back of his tongue.
"W-what are you doing?" The question was quick, but given the way it quivered on the mouse's lips, he seemed to not have a problem with Micah's dexterous paw fishing around inside his tiny shorts.
A 'coon's devilish smile was the first answer. The second and third came almost simultaneously; fingers pulling the hard arousal free from his shorts, squeezing and smoothly pumping with a fist, and the soothing words, "I think it's really sweet you go out of your way just to please someone else." Digits of the other hand wrapped around the long, naked rodent tail, gliding in longer strokes, each time the paw reached near the tail's base, knuckles would brush along an ass cheek. "You're sexy, and I think you deserve some pampering in return. As long as you're not too bottom to enjoy it."
"Oh," murmured Braids. Suddenly a smile slinked across dark lips. "If you insist."
That brought a chuckle from Micah, one muffled as his mouth consumed his partner's Adam's apple. Teeth and tongue glided over that patch of throat. As his deft paw squeezed the firming shaft, it slid upwards, palm pad slinking over the tip in a side-to-side grind. Braids hiked up his hips, lazily humping into the teasing grip.
Dragging up the mouse's shirt with a free hand, Micah's lips trailed their way down the slender, taut chest, his tongue flirting over the upper curve of a pec, then danced down to ring around the piercing. Braids's back arched as the 'coon's wet muscle captured the metal ring, tugging it lazily, then fluttered across pert skin in a tight circle. From there his tongue sank downwards, trailing a wet line that glistened on the black pelt, all the way to the mouse's navel.
As the wet tongue perused lower, Micah hooked his fingers around the shorts' waistband and dragged them down. Scooting back until his head was level with Braids's lap, he dragged down the garment till it hung from an ankle. Fresh, built-up musk filled the 'coon's nostrils, making his mouth water.
Much to his partner's surprise, Micah's mouth skirted the pink length thrusting up from its ebon sheath. A paw scooped up the rodent's balls, allowing him a chance to survey them a moment. Both orbs were rolled about inside his grasp, delicately squeezed, then he dragged his thumb nail down the crease between them. All the while a fingertip teased along the perineum, pressing down and rubbing in tight circles until a quiver and moan were milked out of Braids.
Without warning, Micah popped a nut into his mouth. Before his lips sealed, half the sac lay in his mouth. He began to suck, tugging faintly on the captured orb, rolling it about with his tongue until Braids wrapped his thighs around Micah's face, squeezing until the bandit masked coquette was held in place.
Dexterous digits suddenly dallied along the mouse's full, pink shaft. Wrapping around it, each finger squeezed just after the last, creating a ripple, as his thumb pad pressed along the head, swirling in tight circles. Up went the whole paw, Micah's palm pressing down onto the tip, smoothing the flat of his hand in tight circles over the tip, interspersed with all fingertips dragging up and down the shaft in concert.
"You're just trying to show off," accused a gasping Braids.
Pulling back, the 'coon let his captured treat pop free from between his lips. "There isn't any 'trying' about it." Past that wicked smile flicked forth his agile tongue, bouncing one ball, then the other, batting them about like a cat toy.
Braids dropped a hand, seizing a fistful of raccoon hair. Tugging upwards, dislodging Micah from his fun, the rodent gave a hot look. "Make me cum."
Micah needn't be told twice.
Fingers snatched up the mouse's dick before tugging it and offering a smooth one-two pump of Micah's paw. Then the 'coon pinned it by the tip against his partner's stomach as his muzzle darted forwards. Within moments, Braids had a slut's sideways-tilted face latched on to the base of his shaft, nursing away at the underside as Micah crept upwards. Occasionally his tongue broke the seal to wrap around his prize, before slurping back inside to continue the ascent.
By the time lips wrapped around the flared tip, Braids was squirming, hips hitching up to push against a wet, flirting muzzle. Micah would have none of it; out whisked his tongue as he leaned back, swirling and slurping along the glans, sending it bobbing.
Before Braids could complain about the teasing, his partner kissed his cock's crown. A kiss became lips wrapped half around his tip, the 'coon nursing away while delicately tracing that succulent head with a tooth. While shivers danced through the mouse's pelvis with every caress from Micah's teeth, he dared not buck, not when someone's pointed ivories nestled so close to the skin.
There was little time to fear. Micah's muzzle widened before it darted downwards, taking in Braids's glans completely, only to drag backwards until the mouse wetly popped free. Down Micah dived again, lips coming to a stop just an inch or two from where he'd been moments ago, only to creep upwards once more, sucking the whole way. Pop. The process continued, each time Micah leaping down an inch or two lower before rising up oh-so-slow, all the while peeking up through his ebon mask at Braids.
All the while, Micah snuck a paw underneath Braids. First fingers coiled around the rodent's tail, dragging up and down naked skin, tickling the faint hairs. Then he eased his paw upwards, cupping the mouse's ass. It was tight and solid; the boy put work into it. As Braids tensed from the thorough sucking, Micah squeezed and slinked a digit into the crevice between taut cheeks, fluttering his fingertip over the tightened ring. Tracing around became pressing into, and pressing into became wiggling a finger up inside Braids. Without lube it was a challenge, so Micah stuck with just tugging and tickling the ring.
"Nuuh," squeaked Braids, eyes scrunching up as his anus received a nudge.
Micah perked an ear. It was then he popped free, spittle dribbling down his chin. With muzzle perched on Braids's crown, he glanced up with an expression both concerned and smug.
"Don't stop. More." Urgency colored every word, coupled with the rapid rasp of breath.
Grinning, Micah sank back down. With a roll of the tongue, Braids felt his tip pinned against the roof of the raccoon's muzzle. As Micah began to bob his head in short, swift slides, the ridges along his maw's roof dragged across Braids's cockhead. In the midst of his sawing, the 'coon fluttered his tongue up and down the crown's underside.
In moments, Braids sunk digits into the couch's cushions. He exploded in Micah's mouth, nuts draining with such fury. Lips kept worrying away on the end of his prick, spurring on his orgasm and encouraging every heavy spurt. A long, low moan slid out of his throat as tension radiated through his pelvis and thighs, toes curling. It was enough to bow his back, arching until he finally tumbled backwards onto the couch, huffing and puffing.
Micah siphoned the dregs from Braids before he sat up. Spooge eked from the corners of his smile, the whole load sitting between his cheeks, sloshing around a moment before the 'coon swallowed, satisfied. "Good?"
"Good," answered the breathless Braids, eyes closed in a moment of savoring respite.
Lying back, Micah spread his legs, propping a thigh up against the couch. "Cool. My turn." From his snowy sheath sprang a shaft of black flesh, a little longer and thicker than Braids.
For a moment, Braids admired the dick, then shook his head. "Gimmie a second."
"Sure." Nimble digits wrapped around the waiting shaft, strumming away.
A smile caught the mouse. "Keep that up and you'll not need me."
"Pfft," Micah retorted, using his free hand to root around in his discarded shorts. "I've had this boner all night; it can last a few minutes." Pulling free a packet of lubricant, he pitched it to Braids. "But if you're worried, c'mere and handle it."
Pulling an identical packet from his shirt pocket, Braids flicked it into Micah's lap. "You're not the only one who's going to need it," he lazed while rolling onto his knees.
Tearing open the packet sent the gunk slithering down his paws to shimmer in the multi-colored lights flooding the back room. That same sheen soon glinted off of Micah's dick as the mouse wove his fingers around eager flesh. Squeeze, drag upwards, while the other hand started at the sheath again; it became a game. Each motion elicited a "schlup" of lube squelching in his grasp.
"Hey, I don't want to paint your fingers," objected the bandit-masked cocksucker.
With a rueful smile, Braids let go and turned around, presenting his ass with a flourished tail flick and arch. Micah was all ready tearing open his packet, sludging up a paw before slathering a swath between Braids's cheeks. Without preamble a digit stuffed past the fleshy ring and stirred around forcefully, eliciting a squeak and tail-snap when it pulled free, only to be exchanged for a middle finger. Micah spared a moment to locate and tickle Braids's prostate before yanking his paw free, much to the hissing dissatisfaction of his lover.
Shifting backwards, Braids grabbed hold of the 'coon's base and angled him upwards. Paws wrapped around taut ass cheeks, offering support as flared glands nestled up under Braids's tail. Ticking hips side to side worried Micah's tip inside, and once a few inches slipped past, Braids promptly sat back. Groans rose from both males. For a strict bottom, Braids was fairly tight.
The fucking began kind of slow, with a casual roll of rodent hips forward and back. Each shift grew longer until Braids had to lift upwards, and by then his thighs tugged and bounced, sending him into a smooth ride. Leaning forward, he braced on the back of the couch, letting him pump at a slant. All to Micah's advantage, pushing upwards from calves to shoulders to meet Braids backwards slide.
"Damn," spat the 'coon.
Turning a dish-shaped ear towards his partner, Braids glanced over a shoulder. "What?" He called over the noise.
Sitting up further - one hand bracing while the other grabbing the mouse's shoulder to pull him back - Micah yelled into the noise, "I got an awesome view, but it's too dark and you're too black for me to watch going into you."
Braids laughed and gave Micah something better to watch.
Twisting his upper body until he could grab the couch's back with his far arm, Braids followed up the motion by swinging his lower half around until both males faced one another. All the while keeping Micah buried inside of him. Legs lifted up, planting feet on the coon's shoulders, and with a push, pinned Micah back. Braids braced palms on either side of Micah's thighs, lifting up partially.
With thighs spread as they were, Micah could clearly see the mouse's now hard shaft bouncing away as Braids started throwing all of his weight forwards, ramming himself onto the invading dick, then pushing off with his legs. Naturally, Micah paused a moment to appreciate the new position, then furiously working his hips counter until ass and crotch slapped in a desperate drumbeat. In this position the two couldn't get very long strokes, but when just pulling out a few inches it can go fast and hard. The two worked themselves into a lather, sweat a visible sheen on black fur under the lights.
After all the teasing, Micah was ready to blow. His expression and the urgency of his flailing pelvis were signal enough for Braids. Without warning the mouse sat up, rolling hips to sit at a slant, and planted a foot on the couch's seat, half-crouching above Micah.
"You're not cumming without me," he hissed, and started to bounce. No, Braids began to jump, and then let his weight carry him down, angling hips to drag Micah across his prostate on every trip.
Micah came with a fury intense enough to roar his ears. Shoving hips up against the bounding Braids, he emptied himself. Squeals dredged from his gut burst past lips as heat gushed to spread inside the awaiting, hungry ass, each upward jerk of Braids's pelvis siphoning more from aching nuts. Colorful stars shot past his eyes before they squeezed closed, losing him in the bliss. To Micah, every bit of his insides were being sucked out of him to erupt into his ebon lover.
A frustrated hiss broke through the teeth-clinching climax. Braids sat down on the invading dick and grinded himself back and forth, all the while squeaking in irritation. Finding one last reserve of strength, the 'coon reached forward, wrapping digits around the flopping pink shaft, and began to crank with all the energy left in his waning body.
The writhing grew urgent for a moment, and then with a sudden jerk, Braids unloaded across his stomach and chest, painting a stark contrast spurt by spurt. Arching his back only provided more room to splash.
Braids collapsed sideways on top of Micah. For a few moments the two became a pile of limbs, lax muscles, and heavy breathing.
Then Micah reached around, smoothing fingers over Braids's stomach, stirring through the puddles of gelling come setting into the mouse's fur. "Mm, that hit the spot."
Reaching between his legs, Braids cupped Micah's nuts, providing a squeeze that coincided with one inside of him. "I bet. Feels like you were pretty pent up." Shifting his shoulder, the mouse's muzzle lifted, meeting with Micah's for a deep, relaxed kiss. Tongues tumbled together, each tasting the remnants of the other's oral exploitations.
Pulling back, Braids peeked up at his bandit-masked lover. "All that, and I don't even know your name. I'm-"
A finger pressed to his lips brought silence. "Shh," murmured the 'coon as he ran the digits of a free paw through the other male's braids. "Let's not ruin the mystery. Makes it more interesting if we meet up again some time, too."
Braids mulled this over before smiling a touch. "Okay." With a grunt, he slid Micah out of him. While reaching up for a paper towel, the other paw brushed across white plane of the 'coon's stomach. "Hope I run into you again. Maybe get to know one another." Adding with a grin, "And roll around again."
"Sure thing," Micah returned, laying his head back on the couch's arm, eyes half closed.
After wiping down his ass, Braids slid his shorts on and smiled. "See you around, Domino."
"Domino?" The question became swallowed up in the techno beat of the backroom, Braids having drawn too far towards the door to hear. Micah lay there for a time, then dressed and walked just a little funny towards the bathroom. He was still feeling the sting left over from the cougar.
A light bulb went off over Micah's head when he glanced at a mirror on the way in, spying the dark splotch among the neon-white of his face. A grin split his lips. Domino mask.