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"Discrete Details: Part 1"

By S. K. Gwinne

August 2019

"So I thought, but no one's going to reference the journal later. I kind of agree with them."

Dennis shook his head. It must seem easy to a manager to not worry about anything deeper than metrics. Still, he couldn't let himself get too frustrated--these kinds of details were why people like him had jobs anyway.

"I'll just keep the journal," Dennis groaned with an eyeroll and a wry smile. "Inevitably someone's gonna ask a question or re-write playbooks, and if we don't have it in cold-storage somewhere we'll be up shit creek without a paddle or have to reinvent the wheel."

"Ah, maybe," Anton mumbled. The limber-looking, middle-aged tiger tapped his foot to the sports bar's subdued rock beat and nursed the brown neck of a lager.

"Maybe let the project guys handle that shit and let's don't ask Operations what documentation is necessary," Dennis finished smartly.

Anton chuffed in a good humor and swatted benignly at the Cervine male beside him. Dennis liked that Anton was a good sport about these kinds of things. All too often people took it personally when someone in one department or another thought apparently-extra steps were unnecessary, but Anton, despite being a mid-level manager, always let Dennis rub fur the wrong way to get the job done.

"I'll let you tell them that," Anton alerted, raising an eyebrow.

"I'm sure you will," Dennis chuckled, then took a long drink from his own beer.

The conversation passed into a lull, during which Dennis idled by watching a soccer match between The Netherlands and... well, some flag he didn't recognize. He didn't really care for sports, or bars for that matter, but Anton and the few other guys from work who came here almost every Friday evening after work made for good company going into an otherwise shamefully quiet weekend.

"So, hey," Anton said, leaning in just a little, "there is something I wanted to bring up with you." He rolled his head from side to side in a noncommittal manner. "Something of a... personal nature."

"You want me to be your work mistress?" Dennis asked jovially.

"You're not far off," Anton replied with a crooked smile.

"Ah, geez," Dennis mumbled, "I would say you have to buy me dinner first, but you already bought my beer, so now I'm obligated."

Anton laughed awkwardly, then regained his composure.

"It's about someone close to me, actually," Anton corrected, and his tone became more hesitant, more vulnerable.

"Alright," Dennis encouraged, spinning his beer on the counter and eliciting a low rumble from the friction. "What's up?"

"Well..." Anton began, then paused and licked his lips, looking away or down, but not in Dennis' eyes. "I don't want you to think I'm targeting you because of your preferences or anything-"

"Uh..."

"-but this person is... well, they're struggling with their sexuality. He's a good guy, but he's gay. I mean, not 'but he's gay,' he just is. There's nothing wrong with it. It's just, uh..."

Dennis scowled uncomfortably, not at all sure where this was going. Normally he would keep this side of his life, or anything personal for that matter, neatly sequestered from his work life. But, he and Anton had developed something of a friendship over the last few years and he felt it would be decent to be helpful if he could.

"What can I do for your friend?" Dennis asked honestly.

Anton nodded a few times, prepping himself for his request. He clasped his paws around the sweating beer bottle and spoke.

"He needs some direction," the larger, Pantherine male said, "a pep-talk, maybe. He's just terribly unconfident and listless, if you will. I think he doesn't know what to do about his sexuality, and I'm not... well, at all qualified to help him with it."

"Yeah, man," Dennis said, nodding simply, shrugging, "I can do that. It's not a problem. Got a number?"

"Why don't I just send him over to your place," Anton suggested, "at your convenience, of course."

Dennis frowned.

"You don't think he'd like to grab dinner or meet in a neutral setting?" he asked.

"No, it would be best if he could just drop by one evening," Anton replied with surety, then started as if he'd just remembered something. "How old are you, by the way?"

"Uh... twenty-seven."

"Really?" Anton exclaimed in surprise, "You seem older than that."

"Do I look older than that?!" Dennis asked, incredulous.

"No, no, of course not," Anton backtracked, waving off the bad vibes, "you just act mature for your age."

Dennis mulled it over. He was typically private, and didn't often have people over at his townhome. He also didn't know what his age had to do with giving some random dude a pep-talk about coming out, or whatever. It all seemed a little odd.

"You're not setting me up for a date, are you?" Dennis asked suspiciously.

Anton laughed awkwardly loud and waved it off.

"No, nothing like that. So whaddya say? Can you do me this favor?"

Dennis mulled it over. There were some definite red flags there, but in the end he decided it was fine. Maybe it was the alcohol making him more agreeable, but whatever.

"Uh, send him by... tomorrow or Sunday, I guess," Dennis offered with a shrug. "I'll be home chilling after about six or so."

"Hey, excellent," Anton said, breathing a sigh of relief and patting Dennis on the arm, "you don't know how much this means to me."

"Yeah..." Dennis offered, still a little suspicious, "no problem."

* * *

Dennis scrubbed at the white collar of his button-up shirt, trying to get the tiny blood stain out before it could become permanent. He used his saliva, a trick someone had taught him years ago, and watched as it slowly disappeared. Shaving accidents were few and far between, and he suspected it might be time to get another electric-shaver for trimming up before the work-week. He could see just enough in the large mirror to note that his khaki shorts were wrinkled, and grumbled inwardly that he might have to change them as well before heading out. He was in the process of deciding if it mattered when he heard a knock at the door.

"Awfully late," he commented idly, turning from the mirror and walking to the front of the house. When he opened the door, no one was there. "Oh... what the hell...?"

He glanced up and down the quiet street, but didn't see anyone, so raised an eyebrow disapprovingly into the dark and shut the door. He started trying to smooth out the wrinkles in his shorts when he heard the knock again and realized it was coming from the back door.

"What the...?"

He made his way through the kitchen and the laundry room to the rear of the house and saw a teenage, male tiger highlighted in the see-through portion of the door. When he opened the door, he smiled curtly.

"Hi," he greeted simply.

"Hi, uh... sir," the youth said nervously. He wore black basketball shorts and a dark, multicolored hoodie. The fur on his head was markedly longer than the rest of him--a rarer trait among non-lion Pantherine males, Dennis thought idly before coming back to the present.

"Oh, uh..." he began, scratching his muzzle, "if you and your buddies accidentally kicked a ball into the back yard, you can go get it. I don't mind. Gate's open."

"Hahah!" the tiger laughed, "that's funny."

Dennis smiled under a confused frown, having had no intention of joke-telling. The silence grew long and the tiger boy on his back porch shuffled awkwardly. Dennis was just about to say he didn't order a pizza when the boy spoke.

"I... was supposed to come by and see you this weekend."

Realization dawned and Dennis immediately felt like an asshole, having forgotten that anyone was coming by at all.

"Oh, shit!" he exclaimed, smacking the side of his face. "Yes! Anton sent you."

"Yeah," the boy answered with a hesitant smile, paws tucked firmly into his hoodie.

"Yes, of course," Dennis continued, stepping aside. "Please come in, I apologize."

"Sure, no problem, sir," the boy said, stepping past him and into the kitchen. Dennis followed him and went straight to the refrigerator.

"You can call me Dennis," Dennis offered, opening the door and withdrawing a pitcher of fruit juices. He had to skip over one that had vodka in it from the night before. "And while I don't mean any harm by it, why did you come to my back door and not the front? Also, juice?"

"Uh, sure," the tiger answered, sitting at a stool on the island/breakfast bar. "I was just trying to be discreet."

"Oh," Dennis mumbled with a frown, pouring each of them a glass of the mixed fruit juice. "You, uh... well, it's not a problem, but you don't have to do that. You can always come to the front door."

"I just didn't want to inconvenience you," the boy continued, "people might disapprove."

"Aw, geez, kid... that's..."

Dennis had intended to try and encourage the boy to not worry about what people thought about him coming to visit a gay dude's home, or whatever the hang-up was, when some subtle similarities caught his attention.

"Are you... Anton's kid?"

"Yes, sir," the boy nodded, then balked, "I mean, Dennis. Did you... not know that?"

Dennis paused in thought. He felt some ethereal puzzle pieces falling into place, but still felt that he didn't have the whole picture. As he passed the glass to the hesitant-looking, handsome boy in his kitchen, a thought occurred to him.

"I didn't..." Dennis said slowly, frowning.

"Sorry," the boy offered, shaking his head, "I can't claim to know what my dad was thinking not telling you that."

Dennis paused in thought, but ultimately realized he didn't need to hang all his expectations for this evening on Anton's vague request.

"I have a feeling," he began, "that perhaps by my mistake or Anton's... who is your father...?"

The boy's eyebrows went up slowly and he nodded.

"Well, I have a feeling you and I are not adequately prepared for each other." Dennis cleared his throat and extended his hand in greeting. "My name is Dennis. I work with your father and sometimes we share a beer or two on Fridays after work. I also happen to be gay, 'cause that matters apparently." The boy took his hand and shook it gently.

"Weston," the tiger said, "but you can call me Wes. And I'm sorry about the miscommunication. I think my dad is just walking on eggshells with this whole thing."

"You mean you coming out?" Dennis asked. Wes pursed his lips and nodded. "How old are you now?"

"Sixteen," Wes answered.

"Hmm. Yeah, that can be a tough time."

"Um, I'm sorry, Dennis," Wes began, shifting a little in his seat, "would you mind if we moved this to the couch? I think I'd be more comfortable there."

"Sure, man, make yourself comfortable," Dennis said, and watched as Wes took his glass to the living room. "I'm just gonna get us some coasters so we don't leave water-marks on my coffee table... 'cause I found it for thirty bucks in a garage sale and I guess that matters to me still."

Dennis cast about the kitchen and realized he couldn't find any coasters, so grabbed a few napkins from a drawer by the sink and left the kitchen. He noticed the lights were dimmed in the living room, but figured that must be another unusual detail in this bizarre unfolding.

"So why don't you tell me about your concerns..."

Dennis trailed off as he rounded the couch and stood on the living room floor. Wes had taken a seat on the sofa and crossed his legs on the cushions. He had taken his hoodie and shirt off, revealing his narrow stripes and creamy, white belly.

"With, uh... with, uh..." Dennis started and stopped several times, trying to process the sight before him. "You... certainly look comfortable, Wes."

"Well, I... didn't want to take my shorts off yet," Wes answered carefully, glancing away bashfully. "I figured I'd let you decide how we go forward first. I'm pretty nervous, not gonna lie."

"Why, uh..." Dennis began, feeling his heart begin to thunder in his chest. "Okay, wait. I think there's been some kind of misunderstanding."

"Why?" Wes asked. "What's wrong?"

"Well, I thought your dad sent you over here to ask me some questions and get my perspective on sexuality and... stuff."

"He did," Wes answered sincerely, "and so you could, uh... show me the ropes."

Dennis blinked a few times and, despite feeling bad for the obvious discomfort this situation was causing the already-confused Wes, tried to take his time unraveling the mystery.

"You father," Dennis clarified, "sent you here... so we could... uh, be intimate. So we could have sex."

Wes closed his eyes and shook his head in shame and disappointment.

"I knew this was a stupid idea."

"You're sixteen," Dennis said loudly.

"This is Indiana," Wes countered angrily, "I can consent. You think my dad would have send me here if this was illegal? Hell no."

"I--well, I didn't know that about Indiana, first of all. So there's that. But I'm mainly concerned that Anton didn't communicate this with me beforehand."

"Well, let me put it like this," Wes said, turning to face Dennis fully, "if my dad had asked you to help his ridiculous son have sex and learn how to be confident, you would have let me come over?"

Dennis sighed uncertainly. Getting past the issue of legality, he still had to reconcile with the fact that he was technically being used sexually... not that he'd had a problem with that before, but it had always been communicated to him in no uncertain terms. When he let himself think about it, he didn't think Wes was at all unattractive... quite the opposite. And yet, this was some Old World craziness, sending an inexperienced youth to an experienced adult to gain sexual understanding. What kind of parent did that in the 21stCentury?

Dennis licked his lips thoughtfully, set his glass and the napkins on the coffee table, and sat with Wes, but at the other end of the sofa. The boy looked on the verge of storming out. He looked hurt, and when Dennis had made up his mind he annotated an addendum to let Anton have it next time he saw the older tiger.

"I think we have an understanding now," Dennis said calmly. "I apologize for making this any more uncomfortable than it must be for you. In my defense, I've never been asked to do this before, so it's unexplored territory for me, just like everything you're going through is unexplored territory for you."

Wes nodded and considered Dennis critically.

"That's fair," he said. "I just... I don't know _what_I'm doing here. When I came out to my dad a few months ago I was scared he'd be upset, and he wasn't."

"That's good, right?" Dennis offered.

"Well, yeah, but now he's the scared one. I told him because I feel like I'm stuck, like maybe I'm not ready to be out at school, but I've been attracted to guys since I was little."

Dennis nodded, contemplating.

"Why does that scare Ant- uh, your dad?"

"Because I..." Wes hesitated and hunched his shoulders ashamedly. "I got anxious and depressed about it. He was worried for me. Dad only likes girls, which is fine, obviously, it just means he feels like he can't do anything to help me. That's why he reached out to you."

Dennis leaned his head back absently and had to readjust when one of his antler-prongs poked the back-cushion he leaned against. He supposed it made a certain sense... if he'd had a son who was interested in girls, maybe he would have done something similar... minus sending his boy to go bang an older chick.

"If you don't... uh, want to do anything physical," Wes began, piquing Dennis' attention, "that's fine, of course. But..."

Dennis waited while Wes trailed off.

"But what now?" Dennis asked softly.

"It's just... that's my main concern." Wes drew his legs to his chest and draped his arms across his knees. "I've never had sex before, and I don't want to figure it out with the first guy I'm really interested in. I mean, for guys in our situation if you're bad at sex the relationship's over."

"Well..." Dennis interjected carefully, shaking his head the slightest bit, "that's not necessarily true."

"You sure about that?" Wes asked testily.

"I can see why you would fear that," Dennis explained, "and maybe for very immature guys, and not the kind you'd want to be with anyway, that might be the case. For adult men looking for real relationships, it's understood that you both have to learn what the other person likes and come to an understanding. That's a fact for any relationship that becomes physical."

Wes made a face like he was unsure of the truth behind those words, but nodded.

"I guess so," he said. "Yeah, that makes sense."

"As far as not wanting to have your first time with the first guy you're really interested in, that's a personal decision. Some people say you should get some experience under your belt to find out what you like and what works for you, and others suggest delaying sex until you're with people you genuinely care about."

"Well, I'm not interested in being dangerous with my sex life," Wes assured. "I'm not gonna do a lot of sleeping around or anything."

"That's smart," Dennis replied happily, "a lot of guys and girls make shipwreck of their lives by playing the numbers game. And we're just talking about sex right now, but kissing is another issue."

"Another issue how?" Wes asked curiously.

"Well, in that same vein, some people consider kissing to be incredibly intimate and only do it with their partner, and for other people it can be as simple as just a predecessor to casual sex."

"Have you ever kissed someone?" Wes asked, and Dennis had to suppress the smile that threatened to come at the boy's innocence in asking.

"Yeah, several people," Dennis answered. "Some that deserved it and some that didn't, but whatever."

"How do you know if you're any good?" Wes pressed further. Dennis had a feeling he knew where this was leading, but decided to play it through naturally.

"You just... have to try," Dennis replied simply, and sighed, knowing what his next answer would cause. "Really, it's a matter of practice."

"Could you..." Wes began, leaning the slightest bit forward, "show me?"

The Cervine male made a show of considering the proposition. He tried to set his lust aside in challenging the equation, but it was difficult to. Had Wes been any younger, any smaller, any less physically mature, Dennis would never have considered it. As it stood, the idea of going through the motions with an unsure virgin didn't technically seem all that appealing. It was also a little disconcerting to find himself considering a sexual encounter with someone barely legal... it just seemed off-putting. But then, on the flip side, Wes was a very attractive young man. It didn't help that he was currently shirtless and didn't leave much beyond the obvious bits to the imagination. Finally, Dennis knew, whether Wes knew it or not, that if he started kissing the boy, it would progress--they would be committed.

"Do you want me to?" Dennis asked, then raised a hand to stall Wes' hasty reply. "I only ask because I want you to know that I'm willing, and I would be happy to, but... you shouldn't feel pressured into being physical to any extent with a stranger simply because your father doesn't know how to deal with your sexual preferences."

"I think you're handsome," Wes breathed awkwardly, nervously, making Dennis smile wryly and, to the boy's credit, blush, "and I don't feel pressured. I would like you to kiss me."

Dennis nodded, having made up his mind, and scooted closer to the tiger boy, who unfolded his legs and leaned forward expectantly.

"One condition," Dennis began. "To assure me that you're into it, you should start this by coming to me, touching me gently, and kissing me first."

Wes blinked as he comprehended his instructions, and Dennis watched the unsure, younger male scoot forward until their knees touched. Wes' trembling hand came to rest on Dennis' thigh, and he closed his eyes as he leaned in. Dennis couldn't help but appreciate the romantic symbolism. He would have accepted being pulled in by a strong hand on his neck or any creative thing, but this was all the kid knew. He decided to help the situation work in Wes' favor.

Dennis kept his eyes open as he opened his mouth slightly, leaned in and met the tiger's lips with his own. Wes' trembling uncertainty was cute, but short-lived as Dennis began to guide them. Wes had done his part and bravely engaged, so Dennis helped the inexperienced youth along. By no means an artist at making out, he nevertheless managed to tantalize and encourage the younger tiger, nibbling his lip, suckling the tip of his tongue, caressing his jaw. Before too long the nubile, Pantherine youth became more aggressive. His breaths came in gasps of desire.

Dennis slid closer, gliding a leg underneath the boy. He placed a hand on Wes' neck and gently guided him backward, lower, until he lay on top of the tiger. He could feel Wes' excitement pressed against him, and slid his free hand along the boy's fine-furred, strong torso.

"Mm, uh wait," Wes interjected, breaking their contact. Dennis quickly raised himself over the boy and drew back.

"Yeah, of course," Dennis offered quietly, defensively, "whatever you want."

"I just..." Wes began carefully, raising a hand to Dennis chest and undoing a button. The boy looked hopeful and not scared or uncertain, which encouraged Dennis. At least he hadn't overstepped his bounds. "I think... I'm more of a top than a bottom...?"

It was a request, not an observation, and far from being disappointed, Dennis found himself interested in the proposition. He considered it briefly, noting Wes' personality and mannerism... this would probably be the best way to help him, and anyway, if what he had felt pressed against his pelvis a moment before was any indication... he was bound to enjoy this himself.

"I can handle that," Dennis replied, offering a wry smile. He backed off the tiger and pulled his shirt open, the buttons coming away noiselessly. Dennis watched Wes watching him, and arched his back suggestively as he pushed his shorts down over his hips. He had to recline to get them to his knees, and extended his feet toward the boy. Wes tore his eyes away from Dennis' exposed flesh to make eye contact with his Cervine host. "Wanna help me?"

Wes chuckled and pulled Dennis' shorts over his feet, then deposited them on the floor in front of the couch. Dennis laid back and reclined on the sofa, spreading his legs and stretching suggestively.

"Your turn on top then," Dennis stated, noting the obvious tent in Wes' shorts.

"So we are, uh..." Wes began, fingering his waistband tentatively, "that is, we can have sex?"

"Only if you do something about that," Dennis answered, pointing south of Wes' belly-button. Wes grinned awkwardly and looked away, stressing his waistband uncertainly. "It's like ripping off a Band-Aid," Dennis suggested, "but once they're off..."

There's no going back.

Dennis watched the angle of Wes' lower abs appear, then the small, white tuft of fur on his pubic mound, and finally the wide, veiny, pink shape of his cock. It sprang free, smooth and beautiful, but large and enticing, as the black basketball shorts fell to his knees. The tiger boy leaned against the back cushions and struggled to remove the last of his clothing, finally succeeding and tossing them behind him. Dennis smiled, appreciating the youthful awkwardness, the lack of surety, counterbalanced by years of misunderstood, unfulfilled desire.

"You can certainly be on top," Dennis informed, lowering a hand and tracing Cervine fingers over his angled, throbbing member, "but the rule for the guy on top is, he's in charge."

"Okay," Wes replied, licking his lips and moving forward one step. His knee brushed Dennis buttock, and their hard shafts were separated by maybe a foot.

"Show me what you want, and guide me," Dennis said, rising on his elbow and extending his free hand to gently caress the curved bulb of Wes' glans. The tiger inhaled sharply and his shoulders lifted, his fur rising and his eyebrows turning downward at the sensation. "There are no wrong answers, my friend. I promise you, if something hurts or is uncomfortable, I will tell you. But unless I do, be confident that I'm enjoying you, and you should do whatever you want."

Wes hesitated, then lowered himself over Dennis and Dennis lowered himself to the cushions. Their lips and bodies met, and Dennis locked his legs over his tiger lovers', massaging the predator's calf muscles with the backs of his feet. For height, thanks to Wes' near-maturity, they were matched, but puberty had gifted Wes with a notably larger penis. Dennis let himself have a brief reprieve from concentrating on being a mentor and relished in the fear of taking the tiger's large member, of suffering the youth's unchecked need. It had been months since his last sexual encounter, and months before that since an encounter with any kind of meaning. He tried not to think of Adam, and purged the flickering of feeling as it begged to be entertained, focusing instead on the unique taste and feeling of the Pantherine beauty having its way with him.

Wes' kisses moved to his neck and shoulders, then returned to his lips. Great desire manifested in his gyrating hips, his shuddering breaths. Seminal fluid collected near Dennis' belly button, smearing lines of mussed-up short, Cervine fur. If he didn't let the boy transition to something more real, he would finish too early.

"Wanna try something else?" Dennis asked into the tiger's ear while he kissed Dennis' neck. Wes lifted his head, breathing hard, and blinked feverishly.

"Like what?" he inquired softly.

Dennis reached a hand down, took Wes' large hand in his own, and guided it to his buttock. He pulled his knees in closer, exposing the underside of his tail. He guided the tiger's fingers around the curve of his backside to the soft, furless perimeter of his opening. Dennis rewarded the boy with a light gasp and a smile.

"Oh, my God," Wes whispered excitedly, and Dennis chuckled in delight at his young lover's enthusiasm.

"Let me just..." Dennis trailed off, and brought his hand to his mouth. He made to spit on his two primary fingers, but had a better idea and pressed them gently against Wes' lips. "Would you be so kind?"

The tiger boy smiled gladly, let his eyes flutter closed, and closed his mouth around Dennis' digits. Dennis moaned in ecstasy at the suckling sensation, the soft, but powerful twirling of the tiger's long, Pantherine tongue around and over his flesh. His manhood twitched at the erotic power of Wes' oral skill, and had to gently withdraw himself from his lover's maw, though he would have gladly let the boy continue.

Wes licked his lips as Dennis lowered his fingers to his puckered opening, pressing the slick digits inward and separating his tight flesh. He grunted with effort, and watched Wes' expression turn to one of concern.

"Are you alright?" he asked.

"Yeah," Dennis assured, stretching himself quickly, somewhat painfully, "it's just been a while, and you're... well-endowed."

Wes blushed and looked away, then returned his gaze.

"I'll be gentle," he promised.

Dennis withdrew his fingers and wiped them across his opening, hoping to deposit saliva and gastric lubricant, then reached down and cleaned his hand on an article of deposited clothing.

"Spit isn't a great lubricant," Dennis informed, then rolled his eyes playfully, "but I wasn't anticipating having to entertain a lover tonight, so it's the best we got."

"Sorry," Wes laughed. "I'll take care of me, so it doesn't dry."

"Good thinking," Dennis gratified, and watched as Wes spit into his own palm and reached between them to lather his member in saliva. "Let me help with this part," Dennis added, and reached between them, taking the large, Pantherine penis and angling it until the large glans pressed against the lower section of his hole.

Dennis thought to deliver instructions, but Wes wasn't waiting. He pressed inward, assaulting Dennis' puckered opening, then drew back slightly and pressing inward again. Dennis felt his ring give way and forced himself to relax, shifting his hip with each testing thrust to help work it in. He folded his hands under his head and closed his eyes, then began pushing back against the invading member.

He felt it, the sting of stretching as Wes' barely-contained energy pushed harder than an experienced boy might otherwise do. His breaths let out in little moans, and he focused on the glorious pain of being taken by a bigger male. He was close... what had the shape been again? Gently tapered, or... no it was...

Then it happened. The crest of Wes' quickly-tapered shaft made it past the first layer of defending muscle, and Wes' thrust carried it through the much more tender inner layer. Wes gasped as an inch or two slid into Dennis, and Dennis let out a muffled cry.

"Ahh!" he breathed loudly, grimacing at the searing pain and arching his back instinctively.

"Oh, shit," Wes apologized, "I'm so sorry, I didn't--"

"Don't move," Dennis commanded, blocking Wes' retreat with his legs. "Don't pull out, just.. give me a minute to adjust."

"Okay..."

"Just a sec... I just forgot that this sometimes happens with a cock shaped like yours, it's not your fault. Besides, I can already feel it getting better."

"You sure?" Wes asked in concern, a sweet expression on his features.

"Yeah..." Dennis assured, settling in and wiggling his hips to make sure the little lubricant they had applied was still in effect. When he felt his opening slide over the taught, pulsing flesh of Wes' penis, he nodded his head and smiled. "Now you can continue, and don't be afraid to do what you want."

Wes smiled uncertainly and rocked his hips forward, driving inches into Dennis' depths. The Cervine male groaned and changed the angle of his pelvis, allowing Wes deeper penetration. The feeling was a fullness he hadn't felt in ages, not since... well, a time too early in his life to recall in good conscience. Wes' rhythmic thrusting had all the signs of inexperience--the lack of lower-back maneuvering, inability to maintain wide-area contact of flesh-on-flesh, and generally stiff motions. But the boy had that almost-tortured look of sexual ecstasy on his face, and he gave all appearances of having stamina to spare.

"This is great," Wes stated, his eyes glazed over in concentration. He wasn't going to last much longer. More than a minute though... better than Dennis' first time.

"You're doing great," Dennis said, and decided to test Wes' reaction to some naughtier encouragements. "I love feeling your big cock inside me. It's almost too much, but just right at the same time." He added a trace of moaning to his quiet words, noting the tiger's quickened thrusting. "Make me yours, Wes. Mark me with your seed. Fill me with--"

"Oohh! Uhh! Uh!" Wes cried, rocking into Dennis' backside with jarring force. Dennis grit his teeth as Wes groaned and cried, rutting him like a Spring doe, filling him with hot cum. He recognized the sounds, the facial expressions... Wes was in the throes of an orgasm so good it almost hurt. Those were the best, and often the longest. "Oh, Jesus. Goddamn..."

"Not bad, huh?" Dennis offered.

"That was amazing," Wes exhaled, "I never want to pull out."

Dennis laughed. Wes sat back on his haunches, but did his best to remain inserted. Dennis smiled knowingly when the boy stole a curious glance at their coupling.

"Wow, it's something else seeing myself, uh... _inside_someone." He blushed bashfully and looked away.

"It's one of my favorite things," Dennis offered, "seeing where I'm joined with someone. It's like validation of an intimacy I felt, but hadn't really seen."

"I just can't believe we did it," Wes went on, stroking the inside of Dennis' thigh with the back of his fingers. "We were making out and it was hot, and I just couldn't help myself. It, like... clicked or something, right?"

"Yeah," Dennis encouraged quietly.

"Man, I'm... I'm not a virgin anymore," Wes exclaimed in awe.

"Me either," Dennis added, and Wes gave him a shocked, disbelieving look. "Just kidding." He and Wes laughed, and Dennis' heart skipped a beat when Wes laid his hand on the Cervine male's dripping, unsatisfied manhood. The tiger quickly adopted a face of sudden shame.

"Oh, shit," he said, "I didn't... I mean, you didn't get to orgasm."

"It's fine," Dennis assured.

"No, that's not right," Wes argued sincerely, "I can't have great sex and an awesome orgasm and let you end the night like this." He gestured to Dennis' erection.

"Who said the night was over?" Dennis asked suggestively, raising an eyebrow. Wes blinked uncertainly.

"You mean, uh... wait, what do you mean?"

Dennis carefully and artfully pushed himself into a mounted position with his legs wrapped around Wes' waist and engaged the Pantherine youth in a slow, passionate kiss. He had to hold his breath at the sensation of being hilted at a different angle. When he broke away, still sitting in the tiger's lap, he spoke.

"It's late," Dennis explained, "and I don't feel safe letting you drive home... assuming your dad didn't drop you off."

"Oh, no," Wes assured quickly.

"Good," Dennis granted with a curt nod, "because I've mostly wrapped my mind around all of this, but that would seem a little weird to me."

"Yeah, no kidding."

"Anyway," Dennis continued, "I would like you to consider staying the night. If you don't have to be anywhere early we can stay up late doing other things, sleep in, have breakfast, and then I can send you on your way."

"Well..." Wes began, wrapping his arms around Dennis' waist and smiling up at him bashfully, "are you sure you're okay with that?"

"Well, you came for the experience, I think," Dennis suggested, "and you can't say you lost your virginity to a hot lover on a one-night-stand if you don't stay for the night."

"Who said this was a one-night-stand?" Wes asked suggestively, raising an eyebrow and mimicking Dennis' earlier expression. Dennis chuckled shortly and draped his arms over the boy's shoulders, adopting a more feminine pose.

"I like you, kid, and I really like your dick," Dennis replied sincerely but jovially, "but let's not move on to getting each other flowers and chocolate just yet."

"Sure," Wes said, smiling and blushing.

"I guess that's one of those lessons I should have prepared you for in advance," Dennis offered, shrugging his shoulders.

"What's that?" Wes asked.

"Guard your heart," Dennis informed. "It's too easy for guys to feel 'in love' with someone they've been intimate with. Be able to distinguish between a good time and a promise."

"Yeah," Wes agreed, nodding and looking down in moderate shame, "you're right."

"But hey," Dennis added, lifting the tiger's chin, "there's no shame in feeling. It's sweet, and infinitely preferable to the alternative."

"Ah... what's the alternative?"

"Someone who casually reduces every sexual encounter to a physical process and everyone they sleep with to an object. Don't be like that either."

"Have you been with people like that?" Wes asked sensitively, and Dennis could tell the boy's heart was concerned for his own. He sighed and shrugged.

"Yeah, but... it's not critical. All part of the past. Nothing broken permanently from it."

"I would never do that to you," Wes said quickly, with all the sincerity of a naïve, but noble knight from Arthurian legend. "I hope you know that." It was charming, and almost puppy-love.

"You're one of the good ones," Dennis provided, smiling down at his pure, youthful lover. He could see the emotional rawness in Wes' eyes and decided to change the subject before the boy started saying anything else romantic. "If you feel like 'disengaging,' we can take our juice upstairs and have a bath. I hear tigers like water."

"We do," Wes chortled, "and I'm okay with that. Is there, uh... a good way to do this?"

"Well, this, unlike getting naked, is definitely _not_a Band-Aid moment."

"Okay," Wes said quietly, glancing up and down uncertainly.

"Let me take care of it this once."

"Sure."

Dennis slowly raised himself to his knees, gasping when the thick, Pantherine cock slipped out of his opening. Only then did he really feel the sting of their lovemaking. He had rushed it, and would be uncomfortable for a day or two, but he knew how to handle that and wasn't worried. If anything, it was well worth it.

"There we go," Dennis said, sidestepping off the couch and letting Wes find his feet. He glanced down at the boy's proud erection. "Still?"

"Yeah," Wes said in an embarrassed tone, massaging his lower back awkwardly, "I could honestly, uh... go again."

"That's fantastic," Dennis offered, and had to check his emotional reaction. Of course, he was glad the boy could go again. If this encounter never happened again he wanted to get as much out of it as he could. "Um, why don't you take a moment to let your dad know you're staying the night, just so he knows."

"Yeah, of course."

"I'll take our drinks upstairs and draw the bath, and you can follow after your text or phone call, or whatever."

"I am not talking with my dad on the phone right now," Wes assured, shaking his head in a comical, vehement manner. "Texting is about as far as I'll go while at a lover's house."

Dennis blushed as he turned away, glasses in hand.

"I don't blame you," he said, taking a few awkward steps up the curved staircase. "Take your time."

As he ascended, he felt some of Wes' semen trickling down the inside of his leg. Under different circumstances he might have been put off by the sensation, but with how magnificently Wes had taken to adopting the more masculine role in their lovemaking, it made him proud. He found himself glad to wear the seed of his lover, who had performed admirably and with gentlemanly feeling. Dennis heard his own words in his mind, and reminded himself that this unexpected encounter was intended to help Wes find confidence and security in his sexual identity, not as a means of attaining a new boyfriend or to fill a hole in his life. He needed to find a way to be more clinical--gentlemanly and sensitive, but emotionally disconnected. It was an unusual and unpracticed condition for him, but he felt he had more chance of accomplishing it than Wes would, being so romantic and inexperienced.

Then, as he reached the staircase landing, he recalled the tiger boy's beautiful body, his soft, golden eyes, and charming disposition. He imagined Wes on top of him again, strong, youthful hands on his lower back, pounding away at his ass with diligent fervor.

"This," Dennis muttered feverishly under his breath, "is going to be a long night."