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This is a fun little story that I think most will enjoy. My thanks to all who have offered feedback on this. You know who you are.

I love feedback! Comments are very welcome, and ratings and favorites help other people find this thing. Also, it helps with motivation, so if you enjoy reading this, let me know. I'd appreciate it! Further, anyone who wants to talk writing can feel free to reach out to me on Twitter on Telegram! I'm Orvayn about everywhere, these days. I'm trying to get back into the swing of writing, and I think the best way to do this is to surround myself with people who are interested in it.

There seem to be a couple of places where the text randomly line-breaks for no reason mid-paragraph; if there's any wizard who can help me figure out why the SoFurry display system does this, I'm all ears. It doesn't show up in the edit page, and the location seems to randomize every time I save the document.

---

High-school reunion. Few three-word phrases inspired more cringe.

Jonas had kept up with people over the years, but only through the foggy lens of accidental Facebook stalking. It was a weird feeling, getting older; one day you wake up and that stoner you knew from your freshman-year history course is married with two kids, working for the old quarterback's insurance brokerage firm. Others weren't so lucky, but unsurprisingly, almost everyone from good old Oakridge had stuck around.

Not Jonas; he'd gotten out of that shithole as fast as he could.

Making the final turn, the bull had to squint to keep the sun out of his eyes. The old brick edifice of Oakridge High looked the same as ever, but there were subtle differences in the campus, like the newly-paved road heading back to the practice field, or the numbers now painted on every parking space in the main lot. This was, no doubt, one of the rare Saturdays where the lot wasn't empty.

Jonas pulled into a spot, killed the engine, and released his seat belt.

---

"So you live in Wrigley now?" Kim said. "What's that like?"

Jonas paused to take a quick sip from his coffee, and the taste of it almost made him wince. It was a far cry from the single-origin, locally-roasted beans he was used to.

"It's great," he said. Since he had nearly a foot on the little doe, he had to look down to meet her eyes. "Definitely more my style than this small town."

Kim nodded. She hadn't really changed that much from high school days; she still had that same neat, bookish look to her, but she'd always been pretty enough that no one ever bullied her for it. As long as she just remained the quiet doe who got straight A's, no one would give her shit. Jonas hadn't been so lucky.

"I figured. How's it feel being back?"

Jonas offered a little shrug. On his way in, he'd walked by the bathroom in which Barry and Devin had played a game of keep-away with the bull's clarinet case freshman year--it was a girl's instrument, they'd said, and they were helping him to man up. Today, he pissed in that bathroom for the first time in nine years. "It's alright enough, so far. How's vet school?"

"Keeps me busy. Um, I got engaged a couple months ago."

"Really?"

He grabbed a donut from the platter on the table and munched on it while she spoke. She'd always been one of few people from his hometown that he'd actually liked, but it'd been hard to speak to her at the time given that they were on vastly different rungs of the social hierarchy. It wasn't until senior year that they'd finally started chatting, over college applications, of all things.

People filed into the gym steadily, funneling towards the little fold-up tables with platters of pastries and coffee urns. There was Clara, the band nerd who played flute. Tyler, the prep wolf who pulled off a surprise victory in the spelling bee. John, a popular baseball stag who seemed to have put on a good freshman fifty that he couldn't work off. He eyed them one-by-one as they entered, and he soon had to raise his voice so Kim could hear him; the gym wasn't built for acoustics, and as the crowd grew, the chatter went from a purr to a roar in the background. One friend of Kim's came by, then another, then friends of friends flocked in, and soon they had a little circle beside the pastry table, with people jumping in and out every couple of minutes.

But they were all Kim's friends, of course, never Jonas's. Jonas had been the chubby nerd sitting in the corner, rattling on about trading cards with a voice pitched one octave too high, while all the other bulls in the town were star linebackers or defensive tackles. Jonas wasn't here to catch up with old, friendly faces like the others were; he was here to make eye contact with all the people he'd never gotten along with, so many of whom were complicit in the absolute hell that his first eighteen years had been, and think to himself: I'm better than you, now.

Their voices were music to his ears:

"Jonas? I haven't seen you in years!"

"Shit, man, you've lost weight!"

"Don't ya remember, Kate? He's that smart kid from algebra."

"Jonas? What the hell. You look so different now."

"Oh, shit. Ya went to Harvard, right?" That was Rob, a tall, limber bunny who used to play basketball. One of Barry's boys. "Wasn't there an article in the paper a while back?"

"Yup," Jonas said. "I was the only bull, freshman and sophomore years. And, first bull in twenty years to graduate summa."

Rob nodded as if he knew what summa meant.

Looking around at all these faces now, Jonas could almost convince himself that high school hadn't been terrible, and that half of these people hadn't been complicit in making Jonas the school punching bag. The voices blended together into a blur, and half an hour in, Jonas wore a smile that was only partially faked.

"Hand me one'a those, will ya, city boy?"

Shit.

The sound of that voice in his ear made Jonas jerk. Worse, he'd just freshly refilled his coffee and had the cup halfway to his mouth, so he was treated with a scalding splatter on his sweater. That little incident brought the conversation to a standstill; every pair of eyes went to him and the zebra standing right behind him.

Fucking Barry.

The zebra hadn't changed much. His defining characteristic was still his hugeness; he was closer to seven feet than six and sported the build of someone who couldn't quite decide if he wanted to be an athlete or a bodybuilder. He was underdressed as always, wearing just an oversized shirt and a pair of athletic shorts, as if he'd just rolled out of the gym and couldn't be bothered to dress. Some things never changed.

Things had been going so smoothly, and he thought he'd be ready for this, but the fucker had sneaked up on him, and Jonas floundered.

The zebra pointed. "One'a them donuts. Yeah? Y'all blocking the table."

It was a fair enough request, but something didn't sit right about his first interaction with Barry Williams being Barry barking orders and Jonas heeding them.

"You can get it yourself," he said.

From the corner of his eye, he saw Kim exchange glances with one of her friends, and Barry's eyes widened, but less in an oh-shit way and more in an is-this-fucker-serious sort. At least he had the satisfaction of surprising Barry with the backbone he'd grown; college had done wonders for Jonas's confidence, and all the muscle he'd put on made him feel just fine standing tall and meeting the zebra's eyes.

"Shit, who got your panties in a wad, Harvard?" Barry stepped through the little circle they'd formed and took an unusually long time to grab a napkin and wrap it around the base of a glazed donut.

"I'm gonna go to the bathroom," Kim said. Jonas squinted at her. She was ditching him, dammit. He didn't blame her, but...

"Fine."

She scampered off, but Jonas felt like he had to stay, as he didn't want to give Barry the satisfaction of thinking he'd made Jonas run away. But Barry was clearly trying to fish for some kind of reaction from Jonas, as he seemed to think it appropriate to stand beside the bull and glance over at him. "Why you gotta show up for the first time in five years with a stick up your ass?"

Across from him stood Jenna, the vixen who'd watched Barry toss his two-hundred-dollar trading card deck in the dumpster eight years ago and did nothing about it. To her side was Rob the rabbit, who thanks to basketball, Barry always had under his thumb. With Kim gone, he had no real friends among the seven in their little circle. What had he thinking, coming to this stupid reunion?

"I'm not going to pretend I'm happy to see you, Barry."

"Can you not?" That was Jenna, who somehow managed to have a valley-girl warble despite living in the deep south her whole life. She was dumb as bricks, but that tended not to matter when you have a massive rack and a pretty face to compensate. "Don't be rude. Barry's being nice."

"Yeah, I'm just bein' nice." He said that as if he weren't the only person at this reunion so far who'd managed to make his alma mater sound like an insult. Barry flashed him a grin that looked fake and leaned in closer to bump an elbow against Jonas. "Hey, you ever get a boyfriend, huh?"

"Fuck off." Jonas shoved him. The massive brick wall of zebra hardly seemed fazed, though; it'd taken all of one quiet sentence for Barry to startle Jonas into spilling his coffee, but even with that hard shove, Jonas didn't get Barry to spill even a single drop. The zebra seemed to take the whole thing as a joke, grinning and glancing around the circle with a chuckle.

"Touchy subject, huh?"

"I don't know how many times I've got to tell you I'm not gay," Jonas said. "I have a girlfriend. And I don't have to take shit from you anymore."

"...kid, I was just asking for a damn donut."

Snickers came from their little group, cutting through the tension that had been palpable in the air. Barry was a fucking bully, now and then. The zebra knew what he was doing, and the others didn't understand. He'd wondered if maybe there was a chance Barry had changed, but clearly, he hadn't.

The zebra seemed to be edging closer to him, and Jonas swore Barry's eyes wouldn't stop staring at him, like he was a bird of prey scanning for a weakness. "Kim said ya'd be here, but y'know, I didn't believe her. Told her you were too much of a bigshot to show yer head 'round here."

"You don't even know what I do."

"Everyone knows ya went to Harvard. Figured ya thought you're too good for this dinky town." The zebra took a sip of coffee. "Go on, though. I know yer dying to tell us what you been up to."

Jonas had this all planned out. This was where he gave his spiel about how successful he'd been, how much money he made, and how much better his life was than Barry's. He opened his mouth, but what came out wasn't really anything like the way he thought it'd go in his head.

"I work at a hedge fund," he snapped. He had that same fight-or-flight thrill as when a corporate bigwig cornered him, and his elevator talk bubbled up. "I build computational models to analyze and predict the stock market. I use genetic algorithms, deep neural networks, and data mining techniques to... to..."

Barry had both a hand cupped near his mouth as he mouthed the word nerd over towards Rob, who was bursting with laughter. No one was even listening to the words Jonas was saying. It was high school all over again, with the dweeb of a bull the laughingstock of the class, but Jonas wasn't a pushover anymore.

He swatted the paper cup right out of Barry's hand, and it thunked to the ground with a shower of hot coffee. Steaming liquid soaked into the zebra's shirt, and a second later, they were in each other's faces, Jonas's eyes locked in on Barry's. Modulo a gasp from Jenna, the circle was dead silent.

No one intervened, probably because no one felt they could. Jonas was three-hundred pounds of six-foot-three bull, staring down a zebra who was even taller and nearly as heavy. This wasn't high school anymore, and sure, Jonas might have still had a gut, but he was strong enough to bench Barry's weight, now. The zebra wasn't scared, though; he stared right back, as if he were daring Jonas to make a move. He didn't even give Jonas the pleasure of looking pissed off.

Jenna's hand came down on Barry's shoulder. "Just drop it. You know how he gets."

Barry snorted, letting out a gust of air Jonas could feel on his nose, and took a step back. "Yeah, you right."

"How I get?" His eyes scanned around the circle. Gone were the happy smiles that people had earlier directed towards him, replaced with flattened ears and squinted eyes. Barry had turned his back on him, and was now walking off with Jenna and Rob by his side.

"Hey, Barry?" Jonas hated how the pitch of his voice rose when he called out. The zebra paused, glancing back over his shoulder. "My company has five billion dollars in assets, and I'm going to be a partner next quarter. What have you been doing these past five years?"

Barry's response was to reach back and flip his middle finger. The zebra turned to Jenna, saying just loudly enough for Jonas to hear, "Maybe if that cow keeps it up, he'll get rid of the gut by the time he turns fifty, huh? I'd spend some'a that money on pills, if I were him."

"He'd rather just sit on it and brag about it," Jenna said. "I'd be rich, too, if I didn't buy a house." The three of them lumbered off, chuckling, leaving Jonas alone with the remainder of their bifurcated group.

Jonas looked around, but no one would quite meet his eyes, or offer reassurance in the same way that Jenna had to Barry. "...I'm gonna go find Kim," he said. And without waiting a moment longer, he stormed out, leaving the rest of them behind. Maybe it was his imagination, but it seemed like he could hear laughter echoing in his wake as he headed towards the exit.

Fuck Barry.

---

"So you aren't gay?"

Jonas stomped a foot underneath the table, and it rocked the thing enough that soda ran down the side of his plastic glass. "Why does everyone think that?" He sighed at Kim. "No, I'm not gay. And for the record, it really fucked me up, getting called a faggot so much. So when Barry comes in and the first thing he says to me is asking if I have a fucking boyfriend, can you understand why I just wanted to smack him?"

The doe bit her lip and brought up her drink to take a sip. Was that a twinge of guilt in the way her ears flicked? "Sorry. I didn't know it was that big of a deal."

You'd have to be blind not to notice it was a big deal--or so he thought. It was a big enough deal for him text Kim right after he stormed out, telling her that coming to the reunion had been a big mistake and he was just going home to his parents' to do some work. It was a miracle he'd calmed himself down enough to come grab lunch with her.

"Yeah. You have no idea how bad it was back in high school. Just... Fuck Barry. He's the one who started it all. I thought I could handle him, but God, he's infuriating."

"Well--I mean, you never had a girlfriend," she said. "Even in college, right? I've seen your Facebook. A lot of people kind of wondered..."

"Like I could get a girlfriend in high school. And..." He met her eyes. Should he tell her? He needed to help her understand, because he didn't want her mad at him for running off like that. "Um. When I went to college, I wondered, too. Everyone at Oakridge kept calling me gay, and I had to know. To be sure." He swallowed. "I tried it a couple of times. Met up with a few guys." He rushed the words out. "But that's not me. It was awkward as hell, and..."

She stared back. "You... tried it, with guys? Sounds to me like maybe he was right and you sort of are gay?"

"No, no." He sighed and scanned his eyes around the little restaurant. There were a couple of others in here that he recognized from the reunion, but no one seemed to be paying attention to the two nerds sitting the in the corner. "...it was college. Guys are easy, I was busy, and I figured..."

And she wouldn't get it. She didn't know what it was like to always be late to history class because you had to change last in gym, else you'd have people pointing and laughing at you, calling you Tubby. The pretty doe didn't know what it was like to feel so repulsive you could hardly stand it, and then go off to college and run into an eager gay boy who thought you were the most attractive guy in the room and just couldn't wait to see you shirtless. It was such a novel thing to be wanted.

"Look," Jonas said, "you wouldn't understand. Forget I said anything."

Her eyes narrowed at him. "It's, like... not that big of a deal anymore. People were homophobic when we were young, but we were kids. No one really knew what a gay person was."

"Can you just drop it? I'm dating a girl now, anyway."

She tilted her head. "Yeah?"

He nodded. "Denise. Well--I just started seeing her, but things are going well so far. She's a med student."

The server came with their burgers, at last. Jonas's was oozing a steady trickle of grease that was pooling into a little puddle on the corner of his plate, turning the wrapper translucent. In the city, burger joints liked to pretend they were higher class than they really were, spouting gigantic specialty menus with fancy aiolis and three kinds of mushrooms. Highway Nine was simple and honest: ground chuck from the store down the road, seasoned with lettuce, tomato, and only the finest Kraft singles.

Biting into the thing was heaven; it was a guilty pleasure, owed less to the subtle notes of aged plastic than the powerful flavor of nostalgia.

"So at Harvard it's not gay to mess around with other men."

Jonas squinted at her until he finished chewing that bite and swallowed. He sighed. "I'm a young professional in my twenties. I want to find a wife, settle down, and start a family. I'm done messing around."

"But, like... does--what's her name--does Denise know? I know you said it was just messing around in college, but still..."

"You went to community college," Jonas said. "You wouldn't understand." That made her ears flick down for a half a second, so he added a little, "Sorry," before going in for another bite of his burger.

"Jeez, you've really grown such a big mouth. You used to be so quiet, you know?"

Jonas chewed on a mouthful of burger. "Yeah, I wonder why that is."

"And you live, like, three hours away, now? And you never come back to visit. And... when you do, you don't talk to anyone."

"I talk to you."

"I live in Bronzeville, so that doesn't count. Anyway, my point is..." She had her lips pursed and her eyes wouldn't meet his. "Like, it's really obvious why you came here."

"Because of the reunion. Which you invited me to, so I don't see what you're..."

"No, no, it's because you finally have something to rub in people's faces."

He frowned. "I just want to put this all behind me," he said. "And I want to shut Barry up. I wrote about him in my Harvard application, you know."

Kim was silent for a while. She took a couple of sips from her drink and leaned back, thinking. "He's really not that bad a guy," she said. "He just doesn't know how to act. But, I'm gonna be honest, it's really obvious you came in here looking for a fight with him."

"Whatever."

They chowed down in relative silence, and the server brought their check on his next refill. Jonas polished off the rest of his burger, then sat back in his chair. He insisted on covering the bill, and Kim relented. On instinct, he reached for his card, but this was one of those old-fashioned diners where you still had to bring the ticket to the register to pay.

"I'm glad I could get you to do lunch," the doe said. "Now, um. Look, I know you're pissed off, but... listen, people really do want to see you."

"This about the party tonight?"

Kim nodded. "You came all the way back home for this. Come on. We'll have beer, a bonfire, s'mores..."

"I'm really not feeling it."

"I can talk to Barry, if you want. Let him know to lay it off. Just stop by for a little bit? Please?"

He didn't answer; he just pursed his lips together and tried not to look at her. Jonas didn't want to make a promise he'd regret, but he also had a hard time saying no to her.

She sighed. "Well. I've gotta run to meet Jenna and the others for ice cream." She stood, reaching in to gather her purse from the inside of the booth. "We're all gonna be at Rob's place tonight. Think about it? I'll text you the address, okay?"

A minute later, she was out the door. Jonas sat there for a moment, eyes closed, trying to get his thoughts together.

---

One of the few nice things about his parents' place was that his room had a private bathroom, the holy grail of any horny teen. Jonas flopped down onto the bed post-shower, naked, and pulled out his phone.

He had a couple of text messages and e-mails. A quick scan through his mail app revealed only two things that required immediate attention, and he tapped out a pair of short replies before moving on to the texts. One was from Kim; it was a Google Maps link to Rob's parents' place, presumably. Rob's had always been a popular hangout, mostly thanks to the pool in his parents' backyard. Of course, Jonas, the chubby kid who was always teased for his weight, would never dream of showing up to a damn pool party, so he'd never been.

The second was--

"Holy shit."

He was so surprised, he said the words aloud. For a couple of seconds, he just stared at his phone, his growing hardness pinned up against the covers.

It was from a number he didn't recognize. The picture was a fat, black equine sheath, lined up against a coke can, which it beat in length and put up a decent challenge to in girth. For a long while, all he could do was just stare, and he caught himself grinding his hips against the bed.

He'd posted a couple of Craigslist ads way, way back when that he never took down--maybe this was a reply? But he didn't think he'd put his number in those. Maybe it was a friend of a friend. Definitely not one of his (very few) college hook-ups; he'd never been with a horse before.

Why the hell did he have to get this now, though? In college, dumb curiosity led him to using YiffR for a year under the name "Hung4Hung," but that never went anywhere; it was an endless deluge of "Hey" and "Pics?" from horny Boston gays, and like hell he was showing his dick on YiffR when he was the only damn bull at the school that year. He envied the wolves and foxes who could have true anonymity.

Still, that was one impressive dick in the picture, and having it pop up out of the blue like this was hot in itself. He rolled over so he wouldn't be tempted to grind into the bed again, and he pressed on the little text box, thinking of how to respond. Shit, this was a hard one. Maybe it was spam? Maybe someone was trolling him. It could be a high school 'friend'--a prank, to see if he really was gay.

The proper move was to not respond, because what he'd told Kim was absolutely right. He wasn't gay, not in any meaningful sense of the word. Those flings back in college were essential to maintaining his sanity in a time when women were just too much work, but he was done fucking around. He'd made an effort to litter the Internet with dating profiles, and he had the kindling of something promising to show for it with Denise. There were two-and-a-half biological children in his future, and there was no way to get that with a man.

But... he was curious. Morbidly so. He had to reply with just enough plausible deniability that he was safe, but just enough leading power to get a reply. He eventually settling on replying with a short but terse: "Who's this?"

"Want to see it hard?"

He bit his lip and stared back at the message. Yes. Emphatically yes. It wasn't that he was some insatiable size queen; rather, there was just some novelty in seeing someone potentially bigger than him, for once. Jonas had yet to be outsized, and he'd confess some curiosity, there.

He thought for a moment. C'mon, boy, put that Harvard brain to good use. He texted Kim the number and asked, "Is this someone you know?"

Two minutes later, he got a reply: "That's Barry, why?"

No fucking way. Absolutely no fucking way.

Jonas fumed. He stood, and for a good minute or so, he just paced, cock swinging half-hard between his legs. Once he'd calmed himself, he settled back down on the bed... and went right back to that sinfully delightful image.

If this were a conversation on YiffR at Harvard, he'd text back, Bet I'm bigger. They'd meet up within half an hour, and they'd spend a good ten minutes frotting and humping against one another, trying to see who could last the longest. But Jonas wasn't a college kid anymore, and these weren't just faceless undergrads on a dumb phone app. This was Oakridge, where everyone knew everyone. He had to tread carefully, especially if it really was Barry sending him these messages.

"Barry? Who gave you my number?"

Keep the texts neutral, nevermind the dripping erection between his legs. More likely than not, Barry had a group of drunken friends huddled around his phone, just waiting to laugh at the faggot from Harvard who'd drop to his knees from a single picture.

But would Barry really do that? Would he show a group of friends a shot of his dick, like that, just for a shot at making a fool of Jonas? It seemed more likely than Barry showing the bull his dick, but he sort of had, hadn't he?

Granted that it even was Barry. Maybe that fucker was trying to dupe him. A minute later, Jonas had his laptop open with a reverse image search primed. Surely, Barry had downloaded that picture from somewhere online and was just using to troll him. But there were no results. It had to be him, as crazy as it was. That was Barry's sheath in the picture. Barry's huge sheath, that he'd sent to Jonas.

Jonas's phone buzzed. It was another message from Barry: the same one as before. "Gonna ask one more time... want to see it hard?"

The message had Jonas squirming again, staring at his phone for what felt like minutes at a time, trying to figure out how to respond. At some point, a hand sneaked between his legs, but Jonas stopped himself after just a couple of guilty strokes.

He should say no. He should always say no. He had no reason to see Barry's dick, even if this wasn't a prank. He had another date with Denise in a couple of weeks, after all--and even if he didn't, it was fucking Barry, the single person he probably despised the most, and he was positive the zebra was up to no good. There was no universe in which Barry wasn't just doing this to fuck with him. He still remembered the combative look in the zebra's eyes when Jonas got in close, how they'd both been so close to throwing slugs at one another after the bull slapped the coffee right out of his hands.

His fingers tapped at the keyboard.

"I don't know what kind of game you're playing but--" Delete.

"Are you so upset after I showed you up today that--" Delete.

"Fuck off, I heard what you said about me to Jenna--" Delete.

"Yes." Send.

Even the burn of humiliation and self-loathing couldn't stop him from letting out a low moan when he stared down at the message he'd just sent. His fingers tapped at the keyboard, but before he could follow up with something that looked a little bit less bad, his phone buzzed.

Barry's response wasn't a picture, but a damn video. Barry's cock was front and center: for five seconds, it pulsed and throbbed, swaying slightly between a pair of striped thighs. It was so heavy it couldn't even hold itself up, instead hanging down slightly below parallel while throbbing. Barry gave it a flex in the last second, and it stood tall, before finally wilting back under its weight as the zebra relaxed.

Jonas's hands were shaking, and they weren't listening to his brain, because before he could stop himself, he wrote back to Barry: "Jesus that's insane."

He was old enough to know the 'all horses are a foot long' myth the horse category at YiffTube perpetuated was wrong. Equines weren't that much bigger on average than canines, according to every study he'd read. But damn if Barry's cock didn't jump straight out from a YiffTube flick. He tried to tell himself it wasn't all about the size, but he knew if Barry didn't outsize him, Jonas would be smugly texting back, "I'm bigger."

But why would Barry do this? Did Barry actually want to do something together, or was he just fishing for a reaction? If it was the former, it'd explain why Barry was always so damn mean to him. If it was the latter, then Jonas had already lost. He could look down between his legs and see the precum drip down the side of his belly. His eyes stared back at the screen, waiting for a response, but nothing came.

"That's really you," Jonas wrote.

"Yeah."

"You're fucking huge."

"Yep."

What an infuriating response. Jonas had so many damn questions. He fumbled, trying to figure out what he could say without giving away how damn flustered he was, as if that wasn't obvious already from his reactions. He could picture Barry sitting with his phone in his hands, just waiting for the Faggot from Harvard to reply.

He started to type, "How big exactly?", but figured that was pushing it. Instead, he went for: "What do you want?"

"You gonna be at the party?"

Jonas bit his lip. He'd been leaning towards 'no,' and most of the reason for that was Barry himself, but he was having a hard time thinking clearly, between staring at the blank text box and reaching back up to replay that video. He couldn't stop thinking about what it'd feel like to wrap his hands around it.

"I don't know," he wrote.

"Be there."

His mouth was dry by this point, and his cock wouldn't stop leaking. He didn't even know what to think, but his shaking fingers wrote back automatically, Okay.

"See you there, Harvard. Keep your mouth shut."

What the fuck did that mean?

Jonas couldn't decide if he ought to be terrified or horny, but his cock at least seemed to determined to be the latter. It took a monumental amount of effort to not reach down between his legs and jerk himself off to Barry's video.

What was he getting himself into by going to the party? Would he be walking in on an aggressive zebra who wanted vengeance for this morning, by somehow proving Jonas was a faggot? The alternative was walking in on a crowd who all knew he lusted for Barry's dick, and that wasn't appealing, either.

It was a lose-lose situation. The appropriate response would be to wrap his hand around his cock and milk himself to Barry's video in a single gratifying moment of weakness, then skip out on the party, delete the photos, and never see Barry or anyone else again. He could manage that.

But for all his intellectual pedigree, Jonas was not a smart bull, tonight. He forced himself not to touch his dick, not because he didn't want to, but because there was the ludicrous chance that sometime, tonight, he might get to play with Barry's cock.

Fuck Barry.

"I'll be there," texted Kim.

---

He couldn't remember a time when there was a bigger elephant in the room. Fortunately, his avoiding Barry was par for the course, so at least he could just pretend not to notice the zebra and everything would be fine.

It was eight PM, and the place was packed. After sitting in his car for five minutes and waiting for his erection to go down, Jonas had hauled in a six-pack of IPAs that seemed out of place among the cases of Natty and PBR. No one else seemed interested in his Fancy Beer, which meant all the more for him.

The house was roomy: two glorious stories, with a patio out back for the pool. He mingled among the crowd, making light conversation here and there. Some people looked at him funny; others put on fake smiles. No one mentioned Barry. A few times, he saw the zebra in passing, but he looked away quickly, trying to hide how tense the sight of Barry made him. Both times he saw him, he had Rob and a couple others at his side, and he just knew that Barry had shown Rob those text messages.

"He's only here 'cause I showed him my cock," Barry was probably saying. "Can you believe it? Whaddaya wanna bet the little fucker comes up, wantin' to play with it?"

Kim's face lit up when she first saw him in the sitting room, and she came in for a hug. He spent a good while killing time by her side, relying on her presence to dull the awkward air among her friends. When they got a moment alone in the kitchen, Jonas leaned in.

"So, what does Barry do now?"

She eyed him, halfway through pouring herself some kind of mixed drink with grenadine. "He works at the plant. Why? What's up?"

The Plant. Of course. Stanley Mills, the monolithic ball-bearing manufacturing facility that employed a good twenty percent of the town's population.

She was squinting at him. "Weren't you asking about him earlier? How'd you--"

He shook his head. "Just curious. You know who he's dating now?"

"Um, I don't know. I know he's not married, but... look, don't worry about him, okay? He's not gonna give you any trouble tonight."

Jonas squinted, cogs turning in his head. "You talked to him?"

"Listen, everything's fine. He's totally cool with you and he won't bring any of it up. He totally understands."

"Did you tell him..."

A female wolf poked her head in the door--he recognized her as one of Kim's old volleyball teammates--and tugged Kim in for a hug. "Kim! It's been so long!" The two of them chatted away, and Jonas figured it was best to give them some alone time.

Kim. She'd set him up. What the fuck was she thinking, spilling his secrets to Barry?

He wandered for a bit, fuming, bouncing from group to group, but there was no one he really wanted to talk to, now. He soon came out to the patio. He hadn't brought his swimsuit; he still didn't really feel too comfortable stripping down like that, here. Among coworkers? Sure. Old high school friends? Never. Even though he was in much better shape now, he had too many bad memories of being teased for his gut.

But Barry--oh, Barry wasn't shy, and he was shirtless in the pool, grinning and saying something at Jenna, who was lounging on the sidelines. The lighting at twilight wasn't great, but still, Jonas could tell the zebra had a build to be jealous of. And... and Jonas decided it wasn't a good idea to stare at Barry, because his thoughts inevitably turned back to those pictures and his pants started getting tight.

He splayed himself out in a poolside chair, and he and Barry made a game of trying to ignore each other that they both seemed to be pretty good at. A half-hour passed, during which Jonas hardly even moved except to go fetch another IPA and take a piss. But finally, once Rob came out to announce that the bonfire was starting soon out near the woods, Barry pulled himself out of the pool and headed inside. The sun had fully retreated by that point; the air was cool and dark, lit only by the halogen light pointing back at the pool.

Jonas waited a few minutes before heading inside. Barry wasn't in the kitchen. He wasn't in either of the sitting rooms, and he wasn't in the dining room. Could he be upstairs? Maybe he left, or maybe he went to check out the bonfire. Or...

He headed to the left side of the house, making for the door. Rob's parents had a little side porch, looking off towards the grapevine and storage building that were off on that side. He opened the side door and stepped outside.

The side porch was really just a big concrete stoop, and Barry was seated right there on its edge. Jonas went over beside him, and slowly, very awkwardly, seated himself down.

Barry was the first to speak. "Knew ya'd come looking."

"What did Kim tell you?"

Barry offered a shrug with those muscular shoulders. Jonas had to look away, because the zebra shirtless was an impressive sight that he didn't want to be caught ogling. "Gonna miss the bonfire, sitting back here. Sure ya don't want some s'mores?"

His voice had a teasing, goading tone to it that really grated on Jonas's nerves. "I, um. You said you wanted to see me, so... why don't you tell me what you want?" He stole a glance over at the zebra, who had something of a smug look to him.

Barry met his eyes and chuckled. "Don't kid yourself, Harvard. It ain't about what I want. Let's be real, we both know why you came lookin' for me." Jonas bit his lip and didn't respond, prompting Barry to scoot his snout in a little bit closer. "Show it to me," he mocked, his voice pitched up high, just as he'd done in high school. "Oh, Jesus, you're fucking huge."

By instinct, he'd leaned away from Barry, and his pride wouldn't even let him look back at the guy. "It... it's just surprising." He swallowed, mouth parched. "I mean. If that even is you."

If this were some fantasy world, Barry would whip it out and prove him wrong, then they'd have sex right here on Rob's side porch--but this wasn't fantasy, and Jonas didn't want that to happen. Or, at least, he wished he didn't.

Barry's lips twisted into a grin. "You can't even look at me, can you, now that I know?"

Jonas grit his teeth. "...now that you know what?"

Barry whinnied. "Don't play dumb. Why you always had it out fer me. Always wanted to cram my dick in your mouth, huh? I was right all along and it pissed you the fuck off."

Jonas's hands balled into fists. That wasn't why. He'd hated Barry because he was an asshole, and he was acutely aware that the only thing letting Barry get away with any of this was the size of what the zebra had between his legs. It made him feel ashamed, but apparently that did nothing to wilt the increasingly uncomfortable erection straining against his shorts. How was it possible for someone who was so dumb to be so manipulative, and why was Barry's smug, punchable face turning him on?

It didn't help that, objectively, the zebra was damn attractive. He'd put a little bit of weight--he didn't quite have the six-pack abs he was famous for in high school, at least not in lighting this shitty, but he was built. Probably not stronger than Jonas, but impressive enough in his own right.

"You ain't even denyin' it."

"I..." Dammit, he couldn't find the right words.

Barry was peering over at him. The zebra's eyes lowered, and he was soon snickering. Jonas was about to ask why, until he realized that Barry was staring right at Jonas's very obvious erection.

"...really? Pitchin' a tent, just from this?"

Those words wrenched a groan from his lips and made his dick quake, flex, and strain against shorts. Barry must have noticed, because he howled with laughter. Jonas's mouth hanged open for a moment, flabbergasted at the effect the zebra was having on him. He looked away, squirming under his own shame. "I'm... I'm rock fucking hard," he said, quietly, before he could stop himself. "Dripping. I watched that video like twenty times. Just... fucking hell, Barry, it isn't fair."

Barry seemed to get more smug with every word. "So it's true what they say 'bout you guys. Wave somethin' big around, and any fag will want a taste."

Jonas opened his mouth to argue, but decided against it. The words stung, but Barry looked at him like he was just waiting for an opportunity to twist the knife. He growled, more at himself than the zebra, and let out a hoarse, "...yes." Finally, he let himself look. His eyes stared down at Barry's groin, and he could see it: the outline of that massive sheath, framed by the zebra's swimtrunks.

Barry shrugged. "Took ya long enough to admit it." One of his hands went down between his legs, squeezing around his bulge to highlight its shape. Jonas's eyes widened, seeing just how damn thick that thing was. A couple of minutes must have passed in silence, with Jonas just staring down at the hand slowly moving along the shape of Barry's swelling bulge. The zebra seemed content just to tease and show himself off, and Jonas went along for as long as he could, before his mouth got the best of him.

"I want to see it," Jonas blurted. "Just... just a peek."

The zebra gestured towards his groin. "Go on, then, pull 'em down."

Jonas hated how quickly his hand lifted and made its way towards Barry's crotch. It seemed to happen automatically, without Jonas's brain giving consent to do it. He gripped at the front of those swim trunks. His hands were shaking. He eased the trunks down, one inch at a time. The netting was a bit of a mess, but...

"Jesus."

Barry's swollen sheath hung between his legs like a damn club. It had that leathery, furless look typical of equines, and it had the kind of weight you'd only expect on underwear models or porn stars. It was more huge than pretty, but huge was apparently a good enough aesthetic all on its own, because Jonas was sitting there with a raging erection, staring at Barry's junk. He had one hand still resting on his own thigh somewhat awkwardly, and one hand holding Barry's trunks down.

"You gave me so much shit for callin' you gay, and look at you."

"I'm..." Was it just in his head, or were those words not as mean-spirited as he might have expected? His eyes went up to the side door, then back down to fixated on Barry's dick. Jonas gritted his teeth. "...what do you want from me?"

"I gotta spell it out for you? I thought you was smart. I'm single, I ain't fucked in a year, and you're sittin' there drooling over my dick. C'mon, boy, I thought you went to Harvard."

Jonas wanted to be stronger than this. It should have pissed him off how Barry thought that, just because Jonas had fooled around with guys in the past, it automatically meant he wanted to fool around with his fucking high school bully. Yet as pissed as he still should be at Barry--at him being a jerk, at him assuming the worst, and at him having no concept of boundaries--he couldn't deny that he was stupidly hard and he really, really wanted to play with Barry's dick.

His eyes went from the zebra's head back down to his groin again. "But, I'm.... I'm not single."

It was his last line of defense. Barry leaned in closer, narrowing his eyes to stare right at Jonas. "Good. That means you won't squeal."

Jonas's hands clenched. "I..."

"Shut up and grab it."

It was embarrassing how quickly his hand closed around Barry's girth. He didn't even give himself time to look away, so when he first squeezed his fingers around it, he was still looking Barry in the eye. The same Barry that had taunted him endlessly in high school, who'd thrown his two-hundred-dollar card deck into the dumpster. The fucker had a smug look on his face, like he knew this was the way things would go down the whole time, like he never had any doubt that the fag-in-denial from Harvard would end up on his cock.

Jonas was done denying it. A chill went down his spine, and the temptation was too great to resist. He craned himself over, lowered his head, and pushed his snout right between Barry's legs.

Barry grabbed him by the horns and stopped him dead, and either he didn't know his own strength or he wanted to make it hurt, because the zebra tugged so hard it burned. Barry had won. Jonas was a squirming, groaning mess, with his chin resting on Barry's thigh. His ears were glued to his skull, and he half-expected to look up and see a camera pointing down at him, recording his shame to replay it for the boys later.

There was nothing of the sort, of course. Instead, he watched as a few jawbreakingly-thick inches began to work free from that sheath.

Jonas wanted it. He wanted it so badly.

"Please let me... let me taste it." He hated the sound of his voice; three hundred pounds of bull should never sound like that, nor look like this. It wasn't hot; it was pathetic.

"Hah." The silence was deafening, punctuated by each harsh beat of Jonas's pulse. "Say that again."

Jonas's immediate response was a moan. His cock ached between his legs, and he had to take a moment to just... process what Barry was asking him to do, and the reality that he was going to do it. He licked his lips, trying to ward off his encroaching cottonmouth. Eyes went back to the porch door. He saw no one staring down from the window. They were alone. No voices drifted over from the back patio; everyone else was on the other side of the house, gathering around the budding bonfire.

"Please," he whispered, voice hoarse. His eyes left Barry's dick to meet the zebra's eyes. He'd never feared anything more in his life than he feared Barry saying no, right now. The zebra looked away with a roll of his eyes, almost like he pitied Jonas, and his hands released.

Jonas craned his head closer; his tongue pushed out, and he mashed it clumsily against the bulk of Barry's sheath. Once he got a taste of it, he couldn't help himself; he pushed his face in and just took the weight of it against him. Feeling its heft roll against his snout drew an embarrassingly loud moan, followed by a harsh breath. His tongue hanged out, tasting whatever was in its reach, which happened to the top side of one of Barry's balls. Above, he could hear Barry snickering, but that didn't deter him; it only seemed to make him crave it more.

His tongue ascended over the swell of Barry's sheath and the several inches of his emerging prick, and he took Barry's tip in without hesitation. It was insane how wide he had to open his jaw to take it. His eyes closed, and he could feel his own cock straining against his pants, staining his underwear with pre.

The next minute or so passed in a horny blur. All he could remember was the heat: the heat between his own legs, the heated intensity with which he worked his mouth, and the growing heat of Barry's swelling prick. He kept at it until the zebra's hands gripped him by the horns and yanked him back again.

"God damn," Barry said, staring down at him. "Ain't never anyone so hungry for dick."

Barry's words now mirrored Jonas's thoughts the first time the bull had looked down at that raccoon-boy trying to choke down his dick, freshman year.

"I'm not done," Jonas said, head still resting on Barry's thigh.

"Yes, you are. I ain't getting caught back here with you."

"The woods? The bushes." The words came out far too quickly. Barry was frowning, glancing behind him at the house. Jonas pulled his head away, horns slipping from Barry's grip, and forced himself to sit up straight. One of his hands reached over, though, wrapping around Barry's swelling prick. He glanced out the corner of his eyes at the zebra, who was quiet, probably reflecting on how easy it was to get a faggot eager to suck him off, or something like that.

"I can smell the bonfire," Jonas started. "No one will be paying attention." Or... the bathroom. Upstairs." He paused. "A-anywhere." Barry laughed at him, but he doubled down. "I'm serious." Barry getting cold feet after leading him along this far would be the worst possible outcome. This didn't need to be difficult, but they had to do it fast, before Jonas's brain outpaced his dick and convinced him that sucking the zebra off really wasn't such a good idea. But maybe sneaking off here wasn't a good idea, either. Maybe there were motion cameras set up to catch deer, or maybe someone would see them, or maybe someone would smell them when they came back.

Jonas took a moment to pause and admire that he was actually doing this. The bull still had his hand on Barry's cock, and he could still feel it swelling. "Don't sit there and pretend you don't want more." Jonas took a deep breath. "...you live alone?"

Finally, the zebra broke his silence. "Fifteen minute drive."

They were both still save for the slow motion of Jonas's hand, stroking Barry's dick to life. It just kept on getting bigger. By now it was begging for two hands, so Jonas leaned over, wrapped both hands around the base of it, and jerked on it slow and firm.

"I'll keep my mouth shut." His voice was a hushed whisper.

"And I ain't suckin' yours."

"You don't even have to see it."

"Yer pants stay on. Shirt, too, Tubby."

Jonas hissed and his cock throbbed. "And we never talk about this again."

Barry smirked. "You ain't half as smug when I got something you want, are ya?"

Jonas growled at him. "Are we doing this?"

Barry was quiet for a little bit, but finally, he stood. "C'mon."

---

Getting into his car and following Barry's dinky pickup truck gave him time for his erection to go down and for him to actually think about how fucked this was. It really would be just as simple as making a left turn when Barry went straight, but he didn't have the willpower. Every time he contemplated backing out, he just had to think about the feeling of Barry's cock resting against his nose, and he was hard again in seconds.

It was ten minutes before they turned off the main roads and into a little living community, and soon after, they pulled into the driveway of what looked like a doublewide. It seemed a little big for one person, but their cars were the only ones in the driveway. Jonas didn't really know where they were, and he could barely see anything in the darkness, but he didn't care; once he saw Barry get out, he followed, keeping his hands in his pockets as he headed in.

Jonas swore he didn't even see the inside of the place; all he remembered was walking in behind the giant of a zebra one moment, and the next, Barry was spread-legged on the couch and the bull's face rested up against that tent, like there were some powerful force drawing his head to his old bully's dick.

The zebra was silent, and the silence was deafening. Jonas's hands peeled down Barry's swimshorts. For a moment, he just stared. Barry had won the genetic lottery, for sure. Weighty balls hanged down, resting on the upholstery of the couch, and that sheath had to be thick as a fox's wrist.

Barry was smirking down at him. Jonas met his eyes, and for a while, they just stared at each other with thinly-veiled animosity. Staring up at the zebra who'd demolished his self-esteem by popularizing Faggot and Tubby as his monikers, Jonas found himself sucking in his gut. Barry reached down, grabbed hold of those horns, and forced the bull in.

None of the little twinks Jonas had fooled around with had ever dared to treat him like this.

The weight of Barry's junk greeted him once more, and he responded with the same load moan. A hand went out to squeeze Barry's dick, and his tongue sampled a taste. One lick became five. Five licks became ten. He was perched between the asshole's legs like a shameless whore, and true to his word, Jonas didn't strip. He didn't so much as touch himself. His tongue explored every square inch of Barry's sheath and sac; for a long while, he just sat there mouthing at it, licking it, and tasting it. Above him, Barry's breathing quickened.

Next thing Jonas knew, Barry's cock was filling out his maw. He had one hand wrapped around the swelling base of that thing, squeezing and stroking while it grew into his mouth. And it just didn't seem to stop. It'd been a long time since he'd done this, and Jonas was far from an expert at giving head, but from the moment he got his tongue on it, his lust outstripped his doubts.

Jonas's eager mouth swapped from licking and exploring to bobbing and sucking. Harder and harder Barry got, until gripping the root of it with two hands felt like grabbing onto a steel rod. The first time Jonas felt Barry throb, it sent a damn shiver down his spine, but that was nothing compared to the thrill he got when, for the first time, the unending symphony of wet glurks was interrupted by a groan from the zebra.

Heat built in the air. They were both sweating, now, and the noise seemed only to grow. Jonas was relentless even as his jaw ached, not pulling back for a second; his own greed wouldn't let him, and he didn't want to give Barry a second's chance to pull himself away. He repositioned himself, scooting back and craning forward to straighten out his neck. His hands bent Barry's dick farther down, getting the angle a little better, and he pushed the zebra's tip against his throat. His eyes closed, he squinted, and the next time he bobbed his head forward, he took it deeper.

"Mmrf," Jonas groaned, dick burning. Deepthroating Barry hurt, even for a heavily-built male bull, and he could only just barely get the tip in, but it was so damn worth it for the way the zebra's thighs seemed to quiver.

"Fuck," Barry gasped. "You little faggot..."

His eyes pried open for a moment, just enough to look the zebra in the eye. He ought to be offended, but in that moment, Jonas felt that he deserved to be insulted. Both hands worked that dick while he used the muscles in his neck and back to work his head like a damn fleshlight on Barry's cock. He was so focused on the sensations--on every heated throb of Barry's dick, on every wet squelch of Barry's cock wedging itself into his gullet--that everything was a blur. Jonas's dick was on fire, and it felt like he was borderline edging just from taking Barry's cock.

This was it. He was going to make Barry Williams cum.

The giveaway was Barry sucking in a hiss of air through his teeth and letting out a great bellow of a moan, followed by a hard flex from his cock. Jonas kept at it for as long as he could, then wrenched that monster out of his maw. He worked it at the base with two hands, pointing it right at his face.

It was like being blasted by a firehose. His eyes closed, mouth agape, and he just took it. Eight hard spurts later, his face was completely soaked with Barry's heat, and cum was all he could smell in the air. He didn't even like the taste of it, but he was so horny that he downed what landed in his mouth, anyway. He slowly lowered himself, coming to sit there between Barry's legs.

Vaguely, Jonas was aware that at some point while he'd been shoving Barry's dick down his throat, cum had down his own dick Did he cum? He hadn't touched himself, and he'd barely even noticed, he was so focused. Jonas was still hard--maybe he'd half-came, getting as close as he could without actually blowing, enough to dribble cum into his underwear. Was that even possible?

Barry's cock thumped against chest, and after catching his breath for just a moment, the zebra stood, cock swaying between his legs like a pendulum. He left Jonas seated right there, and without a word, slipped out to the bathroom.

Jonas curled up into something of a fetal position up against the base of the couch. He was still hard. Cum dripped from his face down onto his clothes, staining it white, while the rest of it dried on his fur, leaving it matted and sticky. This was the part where he was supposed to feel regret, but he was still so damn horny that all he could think about was sex.

Barry came out from the bathroom, and he didn't look at Jonas. He didn't even acknowledge his existence. Were they done? "Can I shower?" he called.

"Fine."

Jonas headed into the bathroom, and the moment he was alone, he stripped. In seconds, he was sitting backwards on the toilet, a hand around his rock-hard dick jerking himself off into the toilet bowl. It took less than a minute, and it was one of the most intense orgasms he could ever remember. He didn't bother keeping himself quiet; he groaned out, loudly. He wanted Barry to know what was going on in there, and right as he was about to flush his seed, he heard what sounded like an amused whinney coming from out the door.

Three-hundred pounds of muscle and beef, nearly nine thick inches of completely untouched bull dick, and here he was, jerking himself into the toilet like some kind of furtive teen. For a while, he just sat there, eyes closed, gut resting against the back of the cold toilet seat. Even as his eyes tightened and shame wilted his posture, he decided that if he were given the chance, he'd do it all over again.

---

He ran the shower until the water ran cold. Fully dressed, with fur still slightly damp, he eased Barry's door open. The zebra was sprawled out on his bed, naked, cock resting up against his abdomen.

Barry snorted. "What, you want more?"

Jonas had been staring at Barry's cock. He tried to look the zebra in the eye, but he couldn't do it; he flinched away almost immediately. "...I'm too sore."

"Well, I wasn't inviting you for a sleepover."

What was Barry thinking? Was it a power thing, making the stuck-up nerd from Harvard choke him down? Or maybe Barry was curious. Gay people really weren't a thing in a town like this, and he'd have no one else to turn to if he wanted to try something with a guy. Or maybe it started as a joke, but Barry wound up surprised and confused when he found an eager whore slaving over his dick to be hot regardless of its gender. Either way, talking to Jonas about what had just happened was too hard.

But this was always the hardest part, wasn't it? You invite someone over, you have fun with him, and you want to see him again, so those five minutes post-fuck are your chance to either score big or screw it all up forever. Jonas knew he had to choose his words wisely, but his lack of experience here really hurt his chances. He didn't want to mess this up, but he wasn't really sure what this was.

Jonas started with what he knew for sure. "Look... neither one of us wants this to get out."

Barry sucked his teeth and looked away. "How 'bout you just fuck off? I ain't your goddamn boyfriend."

"Dumbass. I don't want a boyfriend. We've been over this." Nevermind that he had a date with a girl upcoming that he was trying not to think about. "Look, Barry, I'm gonna be honest, your dick is the only thing I like about you and I'm totally fine with that."

"You need to learn to keep your mouth shut."

"All I mean is--"

Barry cut him off with a wave of his hand. "Come here."

Jonas froze, but only for a second, before complying. He climbed up onto the bed, looking up at Barry the whole time. The zebra grabbed hold of his head and shoved it down between his legs. Instinctively, Jonas rubbed his nose up against the zebra's dick, and his tongue flicked out, catching a taste.

"Call me a dumbass one more time, Harvard."

Jonas's lips were too busy mashing up against the base of Barry's sheath, which seemed all-too-eager to swell in response. He figured it was best not to play Barry's games and just get to the point. "...I want to suck you off again."

"Yeah?"

"I can take more of it," he said. "I barely took the tip today, but I want my lips to kiss your fucking crotch."

"Get real, cow, you can't take it all. But if you wanna try, go right ahead."

"Tomorrow," Jonas said.

Barry hesitated. "...why not now?"

Jonas took in a deep breath, and his heart fluttered in his chest. "...I'm really too sore. I would if I could." He couldn't decide if Barry's disappointment was a good or bad thing. Good because that meant Barry wanted it; bad because Jonas really didn't want to piss the zebra off by saying no.

Barry shoved Jonas's head away--apparently, if Jonas wasn't actively sucking his dick, he didn't get to be anywhere near. The bull sighed. He sat there on the edge of the bottom half of the bed and took in a deep breath. He felt an awful lot like he had fifteen minutes ago, sitting on Barry's toilet, flushing down his shame.

Barry didn't want to talk. It was pointless. He only spoke one language.

The bull stood. "I'll be around all day tomorrow. I'm leaving Monday. Just... just text me. Any time." His mouth was dry. "Same deal as before. I don't want anything in return. We... we don't even have to speak. And no one knows. No one. Not even Kim." As he said that, he could see Barry's sheath continue to swell. Jonas licked his lips. "You can... you can just sit back again, and let me work. Or you can... fucking hold me down on it, make me take it."

Barry was looking at him like he was trying to figure out what the bull was getting out of this. It seemed too good to be true, no doubt. Jonas had had the same thought, when that raccoon at Harvard had made him the same offer. He remembered thinking how crazy it was, how a girl would never, ever agree to this kind of arrangement. But the giveaway was Jonas's dick, springing to life between his legs and tenting out his pants.

Barry snorted. "You're fucking sad, you know that?"

Jonas's fists clenched. "Yes. And it turns you on." He had his eyes on Barry's dick. "I'm not dumb. I know why you like this. No one else around here will do this. No one but Harvard." He almost spat the name.

Barry had folded his arms back, head resting atop his hands. He was smirking. "Puttin' that Ivy degree to good use, aren't ya?" He flicked his snout. "Go on. Get out." He looked away, and he almost grumbled his next few words. "...I'll text you."

Jonas frowned back at him, but that was really the best he could have hoped for. He gave the zebra a nod, and, not wanting to overstay his welcome, he headed out.

Fuck Barry.