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James & The Jock

Chapter I

Unexpected Introductions

The early afternoon sun felt marvelous, the cool are redolent of the coming autumn. James loved that time of the year, an escape from the stultifying swelter of summer and before the slumbering numbness of ice-locked winter when it seemed everything was more alive than it was even in spring. Early autumn scents pulled at his sensitive nose and a light breeze stirred through his whiskers, pulling at his thickening fur. Behind him his tail swayed amiably as he ambled down the narrow park path between the engineering building and structural design center.

He loved walking through the park, which sprawled around the huge campus covering at least two hundred acres within the college compound and thousands beyond. It was crisscrossed with walking, running, and biking paths that were all distinct of themselves but made the occasional crossing sometimes hazardous. The well tended river-stones were cool under his unshod pads.

For James it was home, the native lands of his species; Raccoons. His family had lived in the Catskills and Appalachians for generations uncounted. Their blood ran as deep as the roots of the stones themselves and they were never far from the earth no matter where they roamed. His own family lived in the dense heart of protected old growth national forests only an hour away and he was looking forward to the next long weekend when he could escape back to their depths.

For now, he had to suffice himself with the campus' young trees and expansive park, wandering on and off the various footpaths with his book satchel slung over one shoulder. Though the weather was cooling he was still comfortable with his seasonally thickening silver-and-black coat. Other than that covering of fur he wore a pair of age softened denim jeans that had been roughly hacked short at the knees and an equally age-worn canvas duster. The heavy canvas of that duster thumped at his hocks as he padded bare-pawed down the secluded forest paths.

He had a specific destination in mind, one he had found two years before during a homesick dash from the crowds of his classrooms. While his specie were gregarious enough, being crammed in a room with little or no view of the outside world with anywhere from two dozen to a few hundred others of just as many different species had been too much for the country bumkin from the backwoods.

The students were both frightening and amazing. They were haughty and distant and more moneyed than half of his clan put together. His own father, whom he had once thought as comfortably prosperous, was a pauper in the shade of the least of them. Even the few other raccoons he had come across only looked at him crossly in his backwoods garb and proceeded to ignore or, worse yet, ridicule him mercilessly. Regardless of the fact that his college entry scores had been within the top one percent they still looked at him the same way; an uneducated hick. They seemed to take great and sinister glee in rubbing his nose in the fact that he was there on the suffrage of a scholarship, not because of family blood and money, despite that scholarship being one of the toughest in the country to receive. The girls were no better, regardless of their species. They cared more for looks and glaring displays of wealth than the worthiness of anyone who thought they might garner their attention. In that arena James was hopelessly outclassed, but considered it no great loss. The one girl he had shared a handful of dalliances with back home was hardly a comparison in looks but would have worked any of a half dozen of them into the ground before most people even thought to wake up. She was more boy at heart than girl, despite her anatomy.

James paused on the path next to a massive, ancient oak. A plaque said it was the oldest tree on the campus but to James it was just a sapling. He looked around and hitched his satchel back up onto his shoulder but saw no one. Nor could he smell that anyone had recently passed along the path. That, as well, was nothing unusual for one of the more circuitously winding paths from point a to b. He preferred the more out-of-the-way routes that took him from the crush of the student body, letting him find his seclusion to study in peace.

Gods knew he found no peace at the dormitories. His three roommates were stereotypical college boys without a frat to cleave to and went to every party they could beg their way into. While they were generally amiable enough, they saw college as nothing more than a four-year-long party and had little intention of making anything worthy of it. All of them were securely rutted in the 'liberal arts' program. James was striving to learn engineering so that he might be more than what everyone saw in him, and his entire clan; nobodies.

Those that didn't look at him like a pauper from the backwoods called him geek, scrounge, and the more cruel ones called him worse. That was part and parcel of his life because of his bookish nature and general lack of coordination for the more physical aspects of life where he grew up. Even there his peers had chuckled at his general ineptness at sports and forestry. Most, however, except his neighbor Sammuel, an openly gay moose and his mate Jonas, also a moose. James' parents tolerated the pair, who had been their nearest neighbors for decades, and their lifestyle amiably enough. His father chuckled at their antics but called them good people while his mother comported herself around them as if they were just other ladies, which Jonas found much to his liking.

For his part James was ambivalent either way. While he had his dalliances with Bernadette to the pleasure of both parties he always felt as if he was doing something incorrectly or that there was something missing from their intimacy. Strangely he found that, when on the internet interacting with others, he was more swayed to the lifestyle of Sammuel and Jonas. It both surprised and confused him no little bit but he had long ago chosen to accept it as a part of himself. He had never dared put any effort into finding out if he enjoyed it in the flesh, though. He already had enough stigmas to deal with.

Finding no one within earshot or scent he turned from the path and slipped smoothly through the dense undergrowth. Growing up in the back woods did instill some talents, one of them being the ability to vanish into the forest with nary a trace. His tail flicked subconsciously behind him rearranging the foliage disturbed by his passage as he wove through the brush unimpeded by vines or roots or tangles of briar. He knew this non-path well for he had used it countless times in the last two years to find his way to the secret seclusion of his private study.

A hundred yards deeper into the forest he slipped from the encroaching green into a small clearing, perhaps ten paces in extent, with a towering shale boulder upthrust against the backing hill. Far above was another trail but he had no fear of being spotted from such a vantage. Unless a curious squirrel was to take up residence in the screening trees directly overhead he could not be seen even in the depths of winter. When the weather turned he would have a grand view of the entire college valley with the sports field a distant foredrop and the ridges of the local hills in the distance.

James stretched his lanky frame and shook out his fur as he scented the air for any intruders but other than a dim lingering scent he could not readily identify he could not detect that anyone had been there since his last visit. He hung his satchel on a low hanging branch and paced the small clearing, letting the stresses of the day slowly trickle from his mind. The studies for the first quarter finals were weighing heavily upon him, as were the general snubs he received on a daily basis. He avowed to find his way to a decent clothing store the next time his clan sent his monthly stipend. While he loved his age worn clothing it did not at all impress his instructors whenever he made a presentation.

Shrugging out of his comfortable coat he hung it on the same branch and dug into his satchel for his books. Taking out his composition binder and text on Material Stresses and Mechanics he made his way to a massive slab of calved slate under the wall backing the clearing and sat down upon its cool, weather smoothed surface. It was more comfortable for him than the slippery plastic of classroom or lecture hall seats. Shifting himself comfortably upon the stone he leaned back against the rock wall and peered up into the dense foliage overhead, collecting his thoughts.

They would not collect, however. His mental images churned over various thoughts, foremost of them being his hunger; that instinctive urge to put on fat before the winter hit despite the hibernation urge having been purged hundreds of generations in the past. Other thoughts intruded that he could also not easily purge, more frustrating thoughts. The night before he had been engaged in a heated exchange with one of his on-line lovers, a male wolf that closely resembled one he had passed on the campus on occasion; silver fur swathed in black. While he had paused to stare after the local campus wolf he had never summoned the courage to so much as say hello. The exchange with his online paramour had taken some many hours but before he could reach its culmination, and his own shortly thereafter, his dorm mates had come smashing into the room after a night of their usual drunken partying.

Their interruption had forced him to cut short the heated intercourse with his on-line lupine partner and turn in. His dorm mates had been so busy showering that he had not even been able to retreat to the security of the bathroom to finish himself off by paw and that still rode heavily on his mind. In fact, the entire scene that he had been playing out with the wolf, whose commendable writing skill simply left James speechless much of the time, was still as fresh in his mind as if he was still playing it through. With a huff he crossed his ankles and set his books aside to cross his arms over his chest and stared at the trees surrounding him in mute witness to his frustration. He leaned his head back against the cool stone, ears ever alert to his surroundings for the telltale rustle that might indicate he was not as alone as he wished.

Other than native fauna and the cool breeze spilling down from the hill behind him he heard nothing, smelled nothing, and saw nothing other than trees.

For several moments he sat there, drinking in the crisp autumn air, eyes closed as the visual images of that wolf and himself in a tangle of limbs and passion. The silver and black of his own fur meshing seamlessly with the silver and black of the larger, stronger male wolf as the wolf was buried to the knot in his muzzle. James felt his mouth watering at the image and his jeans tightening with arousal and thought to himself rather hilariously; I don't even know what a wolf tastes like! He heard himself giggle at that realization and snapped his eyes open, quashing the sound hastily lest he be heard.

Yet who could hear him a hundred yards into the depths of dense undergrowth?

Looking around self consciously and raising his head to scent the air he let out a chuff, rubbing the aching frustration pressing against the inside of his old denim. With a sigh he shook his head and gave it up; he would not be able to focus on his studies with the images of a wolf pounding his muzzle stuck in his head. It was not the first time that he had pawed himself off in the seclusion of his private sanctuary, after all.

With a deft flick of only one thumb he popped the button of his fly and swiftly drew down the zipper. Another flick of his thumb unsecured the inner fold that protected his fur from the teeth of the zipper and immediately his sheath spilled forth. He always went without the inner briefs, finding no use for them, so once those barriers were removed he was free to the cool air. Digging one hand into his shorts he pushed them downward slightly to make enough room to cup his own balls while his other hand slid up to rub against the short, satin fur of his sheath.

His fur was his pride, as it was for almost every species he had ever encountered, and he cared for it very well. He was clean and well groomed and the texture of that short, warm fur against his palm was thrilling, as was the easing pressure of that palm upon his burgeoning erection. Without any hesitation he pushed his sheath down with the palm of his hand, naked pink flesh sliding across the smooth pads of his palm and jetting a small spurt of thin, clear pre onto his fur.

Sighing, whiskers laid flat along his muzzle and ears backed, he dropped his head against the cool stone rising behind him and simply rubbed the flat of his palm against himself for several seconds, enjoying the slide of calloused pad against smooth, slick erection. A rumble high above brought startled pause to his ministrations, his motions freezing as his eyes snapped open and looked up toward the lip of the stone overhead, ears craning to listen to the sound. After a few rapid heartbeats he identified the sound as a charge of runners along the riding path some hundred or more yards through the forest overhead. They could not see him, even if the stopped and looked, so he slowly relaxed his hammering heart and returned to the task at hand.

Closing his eyes he brought to mind the image of the wolf from his internet tryst the night before, his erection once more rising at those thoughts. His online lover was taller than he by a foot or more and heavier by almost ten kilos, he struck the image of prime masculinity. He had a tender side, evidenced by his lovemaking, but he was the leader in their liaisons. He had taught James much over their nine months together; what the raccoon liked, what he was curious about, and what he found he did not care for in their intimacy. Ebonshadow, as the wolf called himself, was always considerate and had lead the neophyte young raccoon on adventures that he could never have imagined himself finding enjoyable.

Ebon's fur was thick and the color of the deepest night splashed with highlights of quicksilver and his eyes were a striking azure that James could imagine easily in the darkness behind his mind's eye. In comparison the stark paleness of his male length was a spear cast against darkness, he imagined, smooth and pale against the night black pelt of the hunter.

With one hand cupping his balls James caught up his erection with one hand and, panting heavily, stroked it slowly while rubbing just below the tapered tip with the pad of one thumb. The carefully blunted edges of his cool claws only added a textural counterpoint to the fur betwixt his smooth pads. Within his mind's eye he watched Ebon approach, glistening flesh rampant, a smile revealing the white of lupine teeth in the deep black and bright silver of his muzzle.

"Huff, well... " a voice interrupted James' reverie, dashing his mental images like so much crystal against a hearth. His eyes snapped open and his heart trebled in pulse in an instant. He looked around for the speaker, but only saw trees. "Guess not I the only one for to find this spot." James' gaze jerked upward while his hands, still holding his balls and throbbing, needy erection, were frozen in place by the sudden unexpected voice. What he saw was only a massive shadow, descending swiftly from overhead, and he let out a startled mreck of terror.

With a heavy thud the speaker came to earth in the center of the clearing while James curled up around himself in stark horror, eyes wide and ears flattened back out of fear now rather than aroused pleasure. In a heartbeat his eyes picked out the school colors, in the form of a sleeveless shirt and tight exercise shorts on a powerful frame. The new arrival stood slowly from its, or rather his, landing crouch and peered down at the horrified raccoon. Short horns, tipped with gleaming caps of silver, adorned the new arrival's powerful, broad head and brown eyes gazed out from under dark black brows.

The creature's head was decorated in stark triangular shapes of black and white and his muzzle was broad but long. James recoiled in shock, curling his body and hastily throwing his lush tail across his lap in a vain attempt to conceal his situation. "What!" he yelped, "Who..."

The newcomer strode forward with only two ground eating strides and leaned over James, more loomed over, and reached out to touch the tip of his muzzle with one thick finger, "Shhhh, shh." He admonished, tall black ears twitching around as he glanced to either side. "You're James, am I right?"

James could only jerk his head hastily and stare at the powerful frame of the ... what... what species was this with the broad, powerful shoulders and starkly decorated head? James felt himself at a loss to put two coherent thoughts together, much less identify the species of the athlete looming over him. After a moment the strange seemed to sense that his unexpected arrival had not aroused the attentions of anyone beyond their suddenly very cramped seeming seclusion and he rested back a short pace. "I've seen you in 308, Structural Dynamics," he explained in a subdued baritone voice that was smooth despite the thickness of the creature's throat. His muzzle quirked in a warm smile, "I always sit at the back. You're down by the front, always asking that one-eyed old dog questions." The huge creature continued to look down at James' frightened curl as if waiting. "You ask questions I don't even know how to ask, much less answer."

Still curled about himself, James swallowed his suddenly much smaller feeling heart. Great, he thought, not only have I been found out by a campus jock, but he's in my classes and knows who I am! "Who are..." he managed to rasp after loosening his throat enough to snatch a breath.

"Erol," the stranger supplied with a smile offering a hand but James, his own hands already very full, could only stare at it. "I'm a gemsbok, an African species, but I'm actually from Idaho." His head nodded upward toward the lip of the stone he had just jumped from as easily as a cat. "I was running with the track team but..." He chuckled; a deep sound like distant thunder, "But I wanted to find a little privacy." His gaze came back down and his broad muzzle drew into a wide, warm smile. "And I couldn't help but see you..." His hand, unshaken made a short waving gesture at James' tail covered waist.

For his part James played the role of deer-in-headlights perfectly, he was frozen in stark terror upon realizing who he was facing. Not only a jock, but The Jock , captain of the campus Track and Field team and wet dream for damn near every female. He whined and writhed in humiliated knowledge that his private tet-et-tet was fodder for every campus rumor for the next decade.

Erol looked around again and moved to sit upon the edge of the rock James curled up on, carefully stacking the discarded books to one side. He was breathing rather heavily, himself, and James could see the fine sheen of lather upon the gimsbok's broad shoulders. What had prompted him to turn from the path and detour, with such stealth that James' alert ears had not heard, to such a secluded remove? "Why?" he whined piteously.

Erol patted his shoulder gently as he leaned downward slightly, broad nostrils flaring as he inhaled, and met James' startled brown gaze with his own steady brown regard. "Like I said, I noticed you in class. Of everyone there, you were the one I noticed." The Jock said slowly, with a strange gentleness and sense of banked urgency.

Stunned by that strange admission James' jaw hung, agape and his whiskers dropped. With one hand the powerful creature gently grasped James' shoulder and easily sat him back up. James' tail tightened about his own waist as he tried to hide the fact that his unfastened pants were half down his hips. He ended up more sprawled than sitting, half on his back, with his hocks hanging off the edge of the rock and his tail still nested securely over his groin. His hands had finally loosed their startled hold on length, which had retreated with the alacrity of a startled hare at the unexpected intrusion, and tugged at the open fly of his jeans, trying to secure them under the concealing protection of his tail. Rucked half way down his hips and with the weight of his rump upon them the task proved impossible. "Why?" He croaked again.

Erol snorted a breathy laugh and took a deep breath before shaking out his powerful neck. His mane was short and stiff, James observed, as was his entire coat. Short, somewhat coarse hair covered him in striking geometric patterns of black, white, and fawn. A stark band of black started at the base of his throat and flared outward, disappearing under his sleeveless workout shirt, surrounding a pale cream front from his chest downward. "Because you're the only real one in class, James." Erol admitted with a shrug, "You're not hiding behind the affectations of status like that herd that surrounds me every day."

James could only uh huh while he sprawled there on the rock, quite unable to move without exposing himself. Erol looked down at his tail and smiled from one side of his broad muzzle, "And I like your tail?" he offered lamely, giving it a stroke with one hand while James' heart seized in his chest. His gaze came back up, "And, honestly... well..." he glanced away, tall ears sheathed in short black fur backing against his head briefly, "Well... when I saw you," he stopped stroking the raccoon's lush tail to wave up toward the lip of the stone, "I... well..." His hand came back down to James' tail and drew it aside. "May I?" he asked, meeting James' frightened stare.

"May?" James squeaked in shock, trying to cover himself with both hands but only able to cover one thing at a time... either his sheath or his balls. "May?"

Erol smiled warmly, "It's a month, James." He said consolingly, "Comes between April and June?" His huge hand, easily twice as broad as James' own, rested gently atop the raccoon's own smaller, more dexterous, hands. His eyes never left James' own though those tall ears continually twitched and rotated like independent radar dishes, listening for any third intruder who might interrupt them.

James chuffed and flattened his own ears, unable to find humor on the massive runner's joke. "What do you want?" he asked, finally able to put some semblance of sanity into his voice but did not move his hands.

Erol gave him that same lopsided grin again and tapped the back of James' hand with one thumb. "This?" he said, one thick brow quirking curiously, then lowering as his ears back. "Unless you ... well, you don't go that way."

James swallowed slowly and forced himself to relax, to slow his heart before it found some manner of escape from his chest other than his throat. "I... I don't, well..." he stammered, whiskers and ears backing as his tail sought to interpose itself once again but only wrapping around the gemsbok's wrist. "I don't know."

Looking up from the corner of one deep brown eye the gemsbok smiled at the corner of his broad muzzle and flattened his hand over James' own, "I do."

"About me?" James felt the strength in the huge, blunt fingered hands over his smaller, dexterous hands desperately covering his sheath. Despite his erection retreating in terror earlier the feeling of the gemsbok's gentle hands upon his own, so close to his exposed nethers, was having a notable restorative effect. Much to his own surprise James found that within his sheath his earlier erection was returning quite swiftly.

Erol shook his head slowly, "About me, silly." Raising his hand slightly he stroked the back of James' hands with just his fingertips, "But, considering where we are and what I am to the students, it's nothing I advertise." His large head nodded toward the hilltop above. Atop his head were the normal horns of his species, but instead of being several feet long they had been cut only a half foot above his brow and capped with stainless steel.

Black striped silver fur stirred under the blunt tipped fingers of Erol's hand, his own short cream colored fur slashed from fingertip to wrist over the back of his hand with a starkly defined black line. James found himself staring at that hand and fully unable to move despite regaining some small portion of his composure. Lowering his gaze Erol leaned forward slightly, his head dropping down until his nose was almost touching his own fingers, and inhaled a slow breath through his nose. His ears swiveled up as he gazed toward James' stunned face through his brows, "All you have to say is 'no', James, and I'll go." He said slowly, his heavy voice strangely quiet for such a thick throat and broad chest. His hand flattened over James' again, fingertips catching at the raccoon's hands and pulling downward gently. "You say you don't know... have you ever been curious?"

James offered no resistance against the gentle pull of that strong hand and within moments found himself fully exposed, his re-awakened arousal half exposed from the black tipped silver fur of his sheath. "I...," he almost said that he'd never thought about it, but that lie would not come to his tongue. His voice stuttered off raggedly at a warm breath wafting across his sensitive flesh. Erol's hand drew his own downward further while he brought up his free hand to trace a blunt fingertip along the underside of the raccoon's tail. The sensation immediately caused his tail to flare and move out from between his legs where it had firmly ensconced itself. A thumb lightly drew across his taught balls and sent a thrill racing up his spine. "I... umh... have thought, some, but..."

Erol chuckled, his nose not even a half inch from James' naked flesh, and looked up through his brows again, "Internet fun, then, hmm?" he asked, his breath falling warmly across the startled raccoon's needy flesh. "Nothing in the flesh?" James could only shake his head jerkily, his breath coming in swift gulps as he watched the gimsbok's lips hovering so close but teasingly not touching him. He was eager for that touch; eager for any surcease to his mounting arousal. "There's a first time for everything." Erol whispered with a smile and, letting the tip of his tongue peek from between thick lips to trace slowly upward along James' glistening length, ears backing and eyes lidding as he savored the subtle flavor of the raccoon's flesh.

James gasp loudly at the lick, his head leaning back to thump against the rock face behind him from the intensity of that warm, slow stroke along his naked flesh. The raccoon's fur bushed as his hips writhed under the warm pressure of the athlete's teasing tongue, his tail lashing about wildly while his bare footpaws dug fruitlessly at the air. He dropped his hands to either side of his hips and grasped the edge of the shale slab so savagely his claws made quiet grinding noises on the stone. His erection twitched and the muscles of his stomach spasmed, his chest heaving as he sucked in a sharp breath. Slowly drawing his tongue up to the raccoon's tip Erol glanced up with a smile and let his broad tongue slowly circle the tip, letting the short spurts of thin pre spatter across the cupped tip of his tongue.

"There now," Erol said in a low, almost teasingly pleased voice as he raised his head slightly and looked up at the writhing raccoon. He moved his hands to the stone at either side of James' hips and bowed his head again to touch his thick, warm lips to that twitching length of naked flesh. "That was not unpleasant, yes?"

James huffed out a deep breath and looked down at The Jock, the captain of two different sports divisions at the college and the most desired conquest of every female James had overheard tittering behind their hands in study sessions, whose muzzle hovered a mere inch from his own twitching cock. A thin jet of pre spattered into the dark fur of James' stomach and he had to bite down hard to keep himself from giggling madly at the strange dichotomy of social images. Emboldened by the raccoon's gyrations of pleasure Erol smiled and slid his hands upward across the front of his hips, tracing the waist of his jeans. His thumbs drew down along either side of James' exposed erection while his fingers splayed outward around his hips, pulling gently at the raccoon's trapped jeans. Reflexively James reached down and caught at them, breath hitching in a brief moment of panic as he looked around. Erol also looked around slowly, "I have come here often, James, very often. I have never seen, or smelled, any but you here. No one will come here." Slowly he drew downward at the waist of James' age worn denim.

"You did," James observed, swallowing his fear with some effort. He shifted his hips a little, raising his weight up from his rump to free the back of his jeans as Erol drew them down. As he gently tugged at them he moved to kneel at James' ankles and leaned forward, lowering his head to rub the side of his broad muzzle against the dense fur of James' inner thigh. James watched in rapt fascination as he was slowly disrobed, his breath swift in his lungs. The gemsbok's head was massive compared to his own, long and powerful but the touch against his thigh was a sensation that eclipsed any thoughts of detached observation. He clutched at the edge of the rock with his hands, the tips of his claws raking at the cool stone as his jeans were deftly pulled down past his knees and off his feet. All the while Erol's muzzle stroked lightly along his inner thighs, the stark black and cream hues of his facial mask contrasting with the mixed black dusted silver and silver dusted black of his own pelt. He felt drab in comparison.

Erol smiled up through his brows as he set James' jeans atop his forgotten books and stroked his muzzle slowly upward along James' thigh, "That's because I knew where to look." He murmured softly, his nose coming to rest against the raccoon's furry balls. With a huff of breath he pressed his nose upward gently against them, dark eyes half closing as he inhaled the musk of James' overwhelming arousal. As his nose stroked upward he followed it with a light caress of his lips; a mere gentle kiss before continuing upward to the base of James' shaft, "No one else but us know this place." Shifting slightly Erol put his hands upon James' knees, pushing them outward gently as he leaned in to loom over James' hips. Once again he leaned his huge head down and stroked the raccoon's length with a firm, achingly slow lick of his broad tongue that sent James' into churring gyrations of overwhelming arousal.

One large hand slid upward to stroke James' thickly furred rump, half hanging awkwardly off the lip of the stone, tracing teasingly upward from the root of his twitching tail along the cleft of his rear until coming to rest against his taut scrotum. Even as he savored the salty sweetness of James' pre Erol teased those testes with his fingers, cupping the twins in his palm and rolling them ever so gently while his fingers moved up to bracket the half sheathed root of the raccoon's erection. James had never considered himself well or under-endowed, as he had never bothered to run any sort of comparison, but he considered the size of the athlete bending over his hip and could hardly find himself equitable to the bulge centered in the tight shorts hugging the gemsbok's hips. His gaze roved wildly from that brief glance at the jock's jock, staring into the leafy branches overhead with eyes that refused to focus properly.

His unfocused arousal was further compounded by a warm, slow kiss that pressed his erection into the dense, soft fur of his groin as Erol shifted down from the edge of the stone. He moved slowly to kneel between James' legs and, with one hand, eased each of the raccoon's hocks up over his shoulders. With one hand cupping James' orbs he moved his other to slide it across the raccoon's lushly furred stomach, lifting the erection from that fur as he continued to lip at it slowly with his thick, muscular lips. His nostrils flared at the musky, wild scent of the raccoon's loins with each breath and the slightly bitter musk of his sheath lube filled his muzzle, mingling with the salty sweetness of pre. The gemsbok had his own arousal problems but pushed them to the back of his mind to savor the rare opportunity before him.

Using his hand to gently lift the firm, thick length under his lips Erol drew it up slowly, all the while slowly stroking along its length with alternating swipes of his tongue and warm kisses. James writhed and panted in short, bird-like churring as his tail thumped and flicked across the jock's muscular chest. He let out a muffled cry as Erol's lips parted and let his upraised length slide into his muzzle. His hips lifted reflexively, the shanks of his legs pushing down upon the gemsbok's broad shoulders and Erol made no motions to restrict his movement. He let the raccoon's hips rise up, pushing that hot length of arousal into his muzzle fully as a muscular shudder raced through his athletic frame. The pure, simple carnality of it burned through him as he let the slender engineering student eagerly mate his broad muzzle.

James freed one hand from the lip of the stone and grabbed one of Erol's short cut horns as his hips bucked upward and then fell back, pulling much of his length from the athlete's muzzle. The wet sound of flesh sliding across flesh whispered quietly under the raccoon's swift panting and the nasal gusts of Erol's own rapid respiration. Almost without a pause James' hips flexed and his legs drove down against Erol's shoulders anew, lifting his body swiftly to hammer his length into that eager muzzle lustily. Erol let out a pleased snort and cupped his broad tongue around the underside of the throbbing erection nested in his maw, eyes half closed as he watched the ripple of muscular contraction stirring the pale fur of the raccoon's stomach and chest. His strong fingers continued to gently roll the silver dusted black scrotum and its contents while he shifted his hand to let one thick finger draw downward, rubbing and circling around the tightly clenched ring under James' tail.

Overwhelmed by the stimulation of the gemsbok's muzzle upon him James panted heavily as he felt himself rapidly rising toward his peak and well beyond. Within only a few intense seconds he could not find any exercise to stave of the inevitable as his balls tightened up between his thighs and his eyes rolled wildly. He grasped both of Erol's steel capped horns as his hips rose and dropped with wild abandon. Coming to the last dregs of his ability to hold out he crossed his long ankles behind Erol's thick neck and drew his head down by those horns as his hips drove upward and held there, his entire body shuddering spastically. Squeezing his eyes shut and clamping down on his muzzle to hold back a powerful moan he finally reached his peak with a shuddering jerk of his hips against Erol's lips.

James' erection spasmed powerfully in the hot muzzle embracing him and his needy seed exploded from deep within his loins in a hot, thick rush. Erol muttered and huffed hot breath against the fur pushed solidly against his nose and lowered his head down, pushing James' sheath down and forcing another inch of spasming erection deep into his muzzle as the raccoon's flood of seed washed across the back of his tongue, infusing his muzzle with the powerful, musky salinity. His muscular tongue continued to suckle at that length as it twitched and spewed heat into his muzzle though the pressure eased slightly away from the raccoon's over-stimulated tip.

After what seemed like an age James' body slumped and he dropped his hands away from the convenient anchor of those horns. He huffed out a rattling breath and traced his fingers slowly down Erol's muzzle, letting his orgasm spend itself in passionate release. He stared upward at the trees overhead and wondered... What have I just done?

Or, more accurately, what had he let one of the post popular jocks at the college, do to him? He giggled to himself madly and Erol looked up, ears unpinning from the back of his head to focus upon the raccoon. He mumbled an inquiry while his tongue drew slowly along the underside of the shaft, each twitch slightly weaker than the one that came before. James' shaking hands stroked the geometric black and cream patterns across the hard bridge of Erol's long nose as he smiled.

"Mmmh," James managed to huff after several seconds, letting Erol enjoy his spent erection as it began to flag, "Mm, that... good. New, and good." He rasped as he smiled down at the kneeling gemsbok. Erol smiled and left his muzzle in place until he felt the raccoon's erection pass leaving only the rigidity of his penile bone to keep him erect within that warm muzzle. Slowly he moved his head, letting the raccoon's sheath slide back against his lips so that the young student's flesh slipped smoothly from his muzzle into that protective embrace without the chill of the autumnal air upon it.

"Mm, I'm glad you enjoyed." Erol licked his lips slowly and splayed a hand across James' stomach and lower chest, ruffling enviously at the lush, soft fur he lacked. His own was short and coarse, but more suited to his environment . He raised his head and looked around, ears twitching, as he fluidly rose to stand before James who still sprawled bonelessly upon the stone. "Can I see you again?" He asked, tracing the lines of that fur slowly with his fingertips.

"Mmhmm," James nodded, still trying to catch his breath. Erol smiled brightly and winked as he leaned down to give the raccoon's sheath a warm kiss that covered the entirety of it easily.

"Good! I'll see you in class then." He whikkered warmly, "I've got to get back to the others before they really miss me." With easy grace he bounded up the wall of shale and with a last flick of his tufted black tail vanished from sight leaving a very bemused, very naked, and very satisfied engineering student behind.