FSE

Furry search engine

formerly SoFurry search engine

--Chapter One: "Just leave me alone!"

Zach lingered on the edge of the empty pool. It had been turned into a mosh pit, and the garage band driving it jammed on the deck nearby. The lead singer, a wolf who wore a shirt that said Cobain Yourself and had unwashed, brown hair, screeched his lyrics out of time with the band. This was little matter because the rhythm guitarist, the bassist, and the drummer all seemed to be playing in unique time signatures.

"You fucking cunt! You fucking cunt! You fuck-ing cu-u-unt!" the wolf screamed, delighting the small, thrashing crowd. "Cunt! Cunt! Shitty cunt! Born the runt! Always the fuck-ing cunt!"

Zach sunk his hands into his hoodie's pockets and meandered away. He walked past a sextet of empty kegs. An albino rat who far past the point of oblivion was trying to hook the tap up on the seventh keg. His eerie red eyes fixed on Zach, and a drunken smile caused him to show teeth which did not often see a toothbrush.

"Mousey mouse!" the rat said giddily, pointing at Zach's wavering image. "Damn, those pants-," he belched and hardly broke cadence, "looks like they're painted on!"

"Shut up," Zach muttered, and continued across the lawn.

"Thassa big ass," the rat called after him, abandoning the tap and the keg. He shambled after Zach, moving quickly with loping, stupid steps which could only work on a perfectly flat surface. "C'mere! I wanna bongo that ass!" he laughed. "C'mere mousey!"

"Get away from me!" Zach whined, refusing to look over his shoulder. "My ass isn't that big!"

"Bongo, bongo, bongo!" the albino rat chanted. He lunged for Zach and creepy fingers brushed the mouse's shoulders. His thumb hooked Zach's hood and he turned that small purchase into a five-fingered grasp. "Come he-e-ere," he said through Zach's sudden shrieking. "I wanna play Wipeout on that butt! Gonna bongo it good!"

Zach's scream as the rat fell and dragged him down to the grass went unnoticed at the rowdy party where screaming was normal and the music was still screeching in the background. "Help! Somebody help me!" he cried out, thinking back to the anti-rape and -molestation PSAs he had been exposed to in his formative years. He needed an adult desperately, but where was a helpful adult at a party full of drunk ones? All his screaming did was attract a few stragglers curious to watch the sexual assault, drinks in hand.

"Bongo-bongo!" the rat said giddily, throwing himself over top of Zach as if playing a game of Twister with him. His sweaty pink palms grabbed the squirming mouse's shorts and tugged with miraculous coordination. Enormous tan hemispheres jiggled into view, split along the crack by a floss-thin thong in a racy shade of black. "Big ol' ass! Lookit those fuckin' cheeks!"

"Get o-o-off me!" Zach yowled. Tears erupted from his eyes, their sting hot and impotent. The rat started the first few notes of his sloppy bongo solo and the mouse screamed. He flailed his right arm at the rat while his left hand clawed for purchase at the lawn, ripping divots in the perfectly manicured grass. "Stop it! Quit touching my butt!"

"This mousey-boy's got a nice, fat ass," said an observer reverently.

"Shit, yeah. Hard-to-get bitch, ain't he?" the reverent speaker's friend said. "Shit, man, I want those cheeks on my fucking face. Bet you could kill a motherfucker under an ass like that."

"Fuck you," Zach shouted to the revelers, his rare profanity cracking his voice. "Quit making fun of my ass!"

"Bongo, bongo-bongo," the drunk rat murmured, putting a knee on Zach and rapping out short tattoos on his fat cheeks. They jiggled and jostled in a hypnotic, oceanic way. "Good acoustics!"

The first reveler was snickering into his palm at the rat's obnoxious show. The second, more foul-mouthed viewer said in what attempted to be a soothing tone, "Hey, man, we're not picking on you or anything! You got a really nice-."

"It's huge and it's ugly and get off me-e-e!" Zach blubbered as he experienced 'Nam-like flashbacks of high school teasing: pantsing in the hallway, immature sing-songs about his tubby butt, near-molestations in the locker room halted only by the timely arrival of the disgusted coach. And the coach, Zach was sure of it, was always disgusted with him but not the aggressors. "Get off! Get the hell off me!" he shrieked, and the rat acquiesced.

"All right, gosh. Geez. I was just playing around," the albino murmured, getting up and shambling away aimlessly. "Gawd."

Zach's revelers looked uncomfortably at the sobbing mouse. They exchanged looks, then shrugs, and walked closer to him.

"Hey, dude," the more foul-mouthed reveler - a tomcat with black fur and a white blaze on his forehead - said soothingly. "Come on, man, we weren't pickin' on you."

"Yeah, really," the other agreed. He was a fox and a very tubby one at that. His ass was every bit as thick as Zach's but lacked the feminine curve which made Zach so noticeable. He took the weeping mouse's shoulder, his friend taking the other side. Neither set down their drinks. "You ought to be proud of a butt like that," he uncomfortably spoke over the mouse's sniffling and hitching.

Zach hated that he was being helped up by men who, just moments before, had been mocking him. He tried to shrug off their helping arms but couldn't quite manage it, and so he suffered the added humiliation of being unhanded on their terms. "Just-, just leave me alone. My butt is fat and ugly. I hate it, all right?"

The fat fox and his cat friend watched with naked disappointment as Zach yanked his shorts up. "Whatever, dude, if that's how you feel," said the cat, and shrugged. "Man, have a sip of this, it'll calm your ass down some."

Zach brushed away the cat's offered drink and started across the yard, trudging heavily in the grass. "Just leave me alone!" he snapped back at them.

He left the party on foot, stomping off into the night. The carpool of loose friends he had come with (all of whom he suspected thought his big ass was silly-looking) could go eff itself; he didn't want to ride back with them when they sobered up sometime tomorrow morning. He wanted to go home now, and that was that. As Zach walked, the sound of the band faded into errant shrieks of guitar and drum snaps that sounded like small pistols being shot. Zach was happy to leave the cacophony behind.

Around the time the fat fox and his cat friend found another boy for the threesome they had pined for as soon as they saw Zach and his wide behind, the mouse was lost on his way back home. As he walked a dark and lonesome country road flanked by reedy grass and deep, gravel-filled ditches, Zach made an urgent mental note to never again hit up a party two counties away. Actually, he revised the note, never go to another party. Ever. It's always gonna be full of stupid guys who-.

Zach forced himself to cut his thoughts short. He was starting to descend into fear. It was dark, pitch dark, and he was following the road to its end where it merged into a minor artery of a highway which was itself a tributary to the interstate a few miles up the way. Headlights flitted past, left-to-right and right-to-left but never coming his way. He was glad for that, in a way, because he convinced himself that only a serial killer would drive up a country road at three in the morning.

He kept walking, and he began to shiver. It was cold weather for a mouse who lived in a lovely apartment near the wealthiest sections of San Francisco; the forty-five degree air saw Zach pull his hoodie tight. I'm gonna die out here, he hopelessly reflected. He pulled his phone from his pocket and tried to unlock the screen, but it would not stir. The battery was completely dead. He stared at its black screen and wondered how this could have happened. Once a week he charged it, and always on Saturday night because his boring life was at its dullest on the weekends. Zach tried to think what day this was without his phone to consult. It was Sunday, technically - but when he left the apartment, it had still been Saturday evening. He had been too busy with the stupid party to even think about his phone.

"Come o-o-on," Zach whimpered. "This is like a-, it's like a goddamn horror movie," he said helplessly, and the fear overtook the embarrassment he felt over forgetting something so basic. It was rapidly becoming all too easy to imagine rapists and murderers and rapist-murderers lurking in the tall grass. He kept walking for the highway with a quickness of step now.

"What even happens then, huh?" he asked himself, gibbering in fright and anxiety. "Get run over. Like, just run over. My butt makes a good speed bump, I bet," he said, and uttered a husky laugh. "Oh, god."

He walked and walked and walked. It seemed for a while like the highway got no closer, as if it were a desert mirage. But finally he stood on the edge of the country road where a fan of gravel and dirt spread out on the uniform pavement as if the country lane were overflowing into the highway.

"Mmn. Finally," Zach muttered. He started on the highway and learned, to his utter dismay, that it was even colder out here with no tall grass to block the wind. Cars flew past him without stopping. It never occurred to him that he was inviting death by walking with his back to oncoming traffic or that his black hoodie absorbed their lights. After several cars rushed past the mouse, some close enough to make him flinch away, he hissed to himself, "Everyone drives like a jerk. All of them."

Ten cars and half an hour later, Zach didn't care that they were jerks. He wished someone would just stop. All he wanted was a ride to town where he could get on a payphone (heh, pay phones, like I've even seen pocket change in the last five years) and call dad. Dad would be pissed, of course he would be, and he would probably go Chernobyl on Zach for being out at three, now almost four in the morning, and it would be a massive inconvenience to drive two counties over to pick him up... but he would. Dad would do that for his sensitive baby boy.

"Oh, gawd, just a ride," Zach whined to himself, though he had all the open space to shout in that anybody could ever want. He had the crazy, stupid thought that at least out here, there was nobody to pick on him for his tubby butt.

Another vehicle came. It was slower than the others and Zach felt it in his tender ears before he really heard it. The sound made him think of an earthquake or a distant thunderhead, and that really would have been it for that night, just the perfect cap to everything. But it was a vehicle, and it was coming.

He turned around and saw dingy headlights coming his way from far in the distance. They were so badly-aimed that even Zach, who barely knew how to put gas in a car, could see how desperately this driver needed an alignment.

The distinct, reedy whistle of a turbocharger reached him before the bass growl of the diesel engine did. By the time he heard the latter, the behemoth was coming up to him fairly quickly. Its black body recessed into the dark of the night, but the yellow and red running lights on its cab and tanker served their purpose and made it clear to see.

One of its headlights caught Zach, blinded him. Immediately he heard the truck decelerate. Its engine pitched down and the turbocharger's whistle faded into nothing. The air brakes hissed and Zach suddenly remembered the steam locomotives in the spaghetti westerns his dad enjoyed.

The nightcrawling truck rolled to a stop beside Zach, left tires a foot past the dividing stripe. Over the tick of the engine, he heard the driver's side door creak open then slam shut. He thought, rapist-murderer's getting out.

A stout figure walked in front of the headlights, cutting a long shadow on the highway. He smiled at the mouse who stood unmoving by the front-right fender.

"You all right, kiddo? You need a lift?"

"Um. Are you a rapist?" Zach asked, whining.

The dark figure - he was a wolf, Zach could see it now - stared at the mouse in disbelief. Then his teeth appeared in a grin. He laughed loud and long in the cold air.

"Shit, kid. No. I ain't never had to just take what I get offered everyplace I walk. Now you need a lift or what?"

Zach thought about those anti-rape PSAs again. Now his choice in adults was very slim. He looked at the wolf's grimy boots and thought about stranger danger. Do I want to get raped to death or do I want to end up dead in a ditch?

"Ki-i-id, hey. Look. I ain't gonna bite," the wolf said, audibly losing some of his patience. "Yeah, I know, it's like..." He peeked at his wristwatch. "Four in the morning now, and only rapists and killers are out this late, and blah blah blah. Kid, I gotta get this formaldehyde to the great potatolands. Who even has time for killing? Shit, I barely find the time to get my pecker wet. Just-, just get in, and I'll drop you off at Frisco."

"Frisc-, Frisco. San Francisco?" Zach asked shakily. "That's where I live."

The wolf smiled. "Well, then, c'mon. Door's unlocked, get in. Papa wolf's got shit to do, kiddo."

--Chapter Two: "I only get creepy if you let me into your pants."

"S'your name, kid?"

The mouse studied the wolf's profile. "Uh, I'm Zach."

The truck driver smiled. "Zach? Cute name, met a few Zachs before. I'm Ryan, Ryan Huffman." He patted the mouse on the knee in a fatherly way. Zach surprised himself by not flinching. Something about the older wolf was disarming. "'Cha doin' out here on your own? Get lost on the way to an emo party or something?"

Zach frowned. "I'm not an emo. I like some goth stuff at worst. In fact, I just happen to like dark clothes."

Ryan laughed. He twisted the heat on low and reached over, nudged one of the vents Zach's way. Those on the passenger side had been pointed at the driver's seat. "I'm pickin' on you, kiddo. Get the stick outta your butt."

The rodent huffed. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry, okay? It's just been a really bad night. Bunch of guys were picking on me for-," he hesitated, "just something stupid. I didn't want to drink."

Ryan let out a droning, understanding noise. "Mmmmm. Gotcha, kid. Yeah, fuck peer pressure and all that shit. Hey, you warm enough?"

"I'm fine, thank you."

"Well, lemme know if you need more heat. Felt pretty chilly out there." He touched Zach's leg and the mouse thought his touch was worrisomely near the groin. This time he tensed, though he didn't find the touch outright repulsive. Ryan pulled away his meaty paw, and the mouse gradually relaxed.

Ryan drove on without conversation. Zach was having trouble adjusting to the whistle of the turbo. It hurt his sensitive ears and he wondered if Ryan was partially deaf from presumably years of hearing that awful noise. Eventually he found it so unbearable that he needed to talk again. "So, uh, how long have you been...?"

"'Bout thirty years," Ryan answered. Zach caught a glimpse of his orange eye. "Matter of fact, killed my first hitchhiker on my nineteenth birthday!"

Zach's breath caught in his throat, and all he issued was a squeak. He pressed against the door as if an extra inch would save him. "Oh, god."

Ryan let loose a hearty laugh. He clapped Zach on the shoulder. "I'm fucking joking, kid! Gosh. You're too cute to murder, anyhow."

Red flushed in Zach's cheeks. "I'm cute?"

The old wolf chuckled. His eyes stayed on the road. "Be honest with me, kiddo, but you're as queer as a sack of peckers, right?"

Having it asked of him so bluntly made Zach feel indignant, but he found himself unable to lie about it. "Well... yes. I like men."

"Makes two of us," Ryan said. "But hey, just 'cause I'm gay doesn't mean I'm a creep about it. I only get creepy if you let me into your pants."

Zach giggled, caught himself. He straightened in the seat but looked at Ryan. "I don't know if I'm up for that. I'm so iffy about sex, I never really enjoy myself. And guys make fun of me."

"Make fun of you? I dunno why they would. You look pretty cute to me. Nice legs."

"Thanks," Zach murmured. "Well, you see, it's-." He huffed. Unsure of what to do with his hands, he adjusted the vents to point at his face and chest. The warm air felt nice after such a long walk in the cold early morning. "See... it wasn't that I wouldn't drink."

"Uh-oh. What's wrong, kiddo? Want me to go run someone over?"

"Oh, god no," Zach cried. Then he thought about how nice it would be if Ryan did exactly that. "Look, my butt is really big. Like, it's even bigger than what most girls have, and it jiggles when I walk, and-." Zach stopped when he realized Ryan was smiling slyly at him. "What?" he asked in a tiny voice.

"Kid, shit," Ryan laughed. "Sounds to me like you got one hell of an ass. What's the issue?"

He whined. "Aw, it's a horrible thing, Ryan. These guys kept picking on me for how big my butt was. One of them even tried to bongo it!"

Ryan held back a chuckle. "Okay, so what? Coupla drunk fucks don't know how to treat a nice, soft ass and it sours the whole deal for you? Give it another shot, kid. Climb back in the saddle."

"I don't know. I just don't know." Zach watched the cornfields whip by. "It's happened so many times, guys are just dicks about it."

"Seems like you just keep shit company, buddy." That paw touched Zach again, and this time there was no mistaking the lewd intent. It squeezed an inch from his crotch. "Whatcha need is somebody who knows how to appreciate a big, juicy ass."

"Mr. Huffman-," Zach started.

"Just Ryan, please. Mr. Huffman is my old man." Ryan laughed. "I guess I'm an old man too, next to you anyway. You're what, twenty-two? Twenty-three?"

"Twenty-two," Zach answered. "Um, and you...?"

The wolf groped Zach's thigh firmly, dimpling the pliant, chubby flesh. The mouse cooed and his fleshy fingers closed around Ryan's wrist. "Kid, you know it's rude to ask an old queen's age, don't you?" He snickered. "Guess I'll tell you since you asked so politely, though - I'm forty-eight, kiddo. That too old for you?"

"No, no, not at all," Zach hastily replied. In Ryan's case, forty-eight didn't seem so bad. With anyone less charming, it would have made a creepy situation magnitudes worse. "Ah, so-, so you know how to handle a butt like mine? It's not too big? Oh, god, I sound pathetic."

Ryan dragged his tongue across his jowly lips. He squeezed again before relinquishing the mouse's thigh. "Be honest with you, kid, I'd be pretty happy if you put that ass on my face. Big, soft asses on pretty, cute boys are awful hard to come by. So, next rest stop I see, let's you and me stop for a while. Papa wolf'll show you how that ass is supposed to be treated. That sound good?"

Zach pursed his thighs. His small penis twitched under his shorts. "Okay... I think that sounds good."

--Chapter Three: "It's just different with you."

"Hey, Ryan?"

The wolf didn't look up from unlacing his boots. "Sup, kiddo?"

Zach gazed along his own naked legs. He palmed his kneecaps. "Do truckers actually sleep in these rooms, or do they just-, you know?"

"Uhhh." Ryan removed his weathered boots and peeled off his sweaty socks. The stink of his feet made Zach wince. "Well, myself, I only use 'em for porking. Suppose if he doesn't have a sleeper, a truck driver might actually sleep in a motel. Yes." He took stock of the mouse seated nude on the edge of the bed. His clothes were in a mound on the chair. "Kid, you sure you wanna do this? Not feeling coerced or nothing, are you?"

"I'm not." Zach forced an uneasy smile. "But it's been a couple years since I've had sex and actually enjoyed it. I think I may be, um, kinda difficult..."

"S'long as you don't start whining that you wanna stop when I'm two seconds away from a nut, we'll be fine," said Ryan, and winked playfully. He stood up, strode over to Zach, and surprised him by kneeling down. "C'mon, pull the legs apart, kiddo. Lemme see what I'm workin' with."

That Ryan would do anything besides bend him over and fuck him seemed bizarre to Zach. His eyes must have said as much, because Ryan smiled disarmingly and rubbed the boy's outer thigh. "Wha-a-at? Can't a guy like the taste of pecker?"

"You're just so old," Zach blurted out. He immediately regretted it, but Ryan laughed so suddenly and so sharply that he fell back on his fat ass. Someone in the room beneath snarled some very colorful language up at him.

"Guess someone's tryin' to sleep down there," said Ryan, glancing nowhere in particular at the floor. He had his laugh down to a soft, infrequent chuckle like a hiccup when he regained his knees and pried apart Zach's thighs. "That was cute, kid. You're adorable as hell. Sure hope you know that."

Ryan made no remark about the small size of Zach's penis. He cooed, "Nice foreskin, kid. Always like seein' an intact porksword." He pinched its flaccid length up in his fingers and stroked it this way. As it stiffened, he frequently tugged downward and watched with a small, dirty smile. The sight of a healthy foreskin sliding back to unveil the glans of the penis was just one of the many small pleasures he took from life. "You got a real good dick, kiddo." The wolf's orange eyes met Zach's gray gaze. Smiles were exchanged, though Zach's appeared nervously contrived. "Real talk, kid, do you mind if I suck your dick? For some reason or another, some guys get weird about it." He shrugged. "They never care if I'm munchin' on their butthole, though."

Caught off-guard by the childish phrase, Zach snickered. He covered his mouth in a womanly fashion. "Go ahead. Please. Just be gentle, no-, um."

The wolf's eyes narrowed, thick eyebrows nearly colliding. "I'm not gonna nibble your foreskin, if that's what you're trying to say. I don't like that shit either."

Zach wondered if Ryan was reading his thoughts somehow. "Thanks," he muttered.

Ryan's broad lupine snout slipped between Zach's thighs. He smelled the boy, found his scent buried under soap and fur shampoo. Such neurotic hygiene was disappointing, but the boy was too beautiful not to fuck anyway. His mouth opened then closed around the mouse's small penis. His teeth prickled and teased, and his dry, aged jowls made the seal. Ryan sucked like a nursing calf, but his suckles were slow and infrequent. Perhaps more than anything else, age had taught Ryan that a truly good blowjob was more than just sucking like a vacuum cleaner. It required all manners of attention - and not just from the mouth.

His thick, fuzzy digits played across Zach's belly and chest, tweaking stiff nipples, tracing thin lines. Overlarge bottom and plump legs aside, Zach was a perfect twink. More than simply fun to feel, he was fun to tease as well. He shuddered and moaned as Ryan's fingers dragged through his thin fur.

The trucker's tongue slathered Zach between suckles. To the mouse it seemed to be as wide as a fire hose, but still incredibly dexterous. It could and did curl around his entire shaft in sloppy slurps, and these came often. "Mmh. Mmm, god," he whimpered. "Rya-a-an, that's good..."

"Mmn," Ryan grumbled. His eyes stayed closed. He didn't need to see Zach's face to know what kind of expression was on it. Slowly and lovingly, his arms encircled the mouse and held him in close. That was when the suckles mostly ended and the bobbing began. His old muzzle moved slowly by choice rather than hindrance from his age. Rushing a job on the road was a good way to hurt someone, and rushing a job in bed usually left people disappointed.

Zach touched Ryan tentatively. Zach was used to his own body, used to soft and clean boys like himself. Ryan's hair was grimy and sweaty, fur short and bristly from age and negligent hygiene, but still Zach slid his soft palms over the wolf's head and palmed his ears. Under his touch, Ryan uttered small, positive grumbles and his tail swished.

The mouse sniffed the air, feeling past the mildewy smell of the motel room to locate Ryan. Musk and body odor seemed to have no distinguishing features on Ryan; he smelled deeply of masculinity and raw sex. The stink was difficult to bear but the rodent found himself developing a taste for it. His small penis twitched needfully in Ryan's gulping, bobbing mouth.

"You're gonna make me cum," Zach said in a voice dripping shame. "I've never had a blowjob this good. I mean it."

Ryan bore down in a suck just so that he could smack his lips off of the mouse's cock. The pop left Zach trembling, fleshy fingers gripping the bedspread. "Had a long time to practice 'em," Ryan cooed. He touched his nose to the underside of Zach's penis, took in its smell lustfully. Mostly it stank of his own mouth, but there was rodent musk too. "Knock you down and sit on this pecker if you'd let me. Bet it feels nice up the ass."

Zach shook his head, causing his two-toned hair to swing. "No, no... I could never do that."

"S'all right, kiddo," Ryan comfortingly said. "We ain't gonna do anything that you don't wanna do." Before Zach could say anything, Ryan went down on him again. He bobbed, gulped, slobbered on Zach's cock. His paws slithered up the rodent's legs and pushed them apart at the thighs. One paw lifted Zach's modest balls and his tongue slopped out and dragged across them in a grooming slurp. He toyed with the idea of pulling the mouse's scrotum into his mouth, but decided to leave it at a few slurps. Zach did not seem the type to appreciate something so outrageous.

"Mm, mmh. Gawd," huffed Zach, fleshy hands gripping Ryan's ears. His tail whipped at the air and his toes curled. "I'm really not gonna last, I'm gonna-." Pleasure tangled his tongue into a knot, leaving him whimpering and huffing. His small penis twitched between Ryan's slurping tongue and ribbed palate. Barely another moment passed before it began to spurt. Zach, who did not masturbate often, enjoyed a very productive climax in Ryan's gulping muzzle.

The old wolf smiled at the corners of his mouth. The first salty drop on his tongue made him feel triumphant; here was another sweet boy brought to heel by papa wolf's wiles. He eased off with his suckles, ceased his bobs, and only gave Zach service from his slathering tongue. Even his swallows were staggered so that he could indulge in Zach's flavor. When he did swallow, he made it as obvious as possible, exaggerating his gulps and rumbling as though savoring an exquisite meal.

Ryan drew back his grizzled snout slowly, unveiling Zach's semiflaccid cock under a coating of thick, shimmering slobber. He looked up at the mouse and playfully wagged his tail. His expression was that of a playful pup. "Have a good time, kiddo? Just about drowned me with that ball butter of yours."

Zach's cheeks were red. He wrung his palms in a nervous tic. "That was amazing, Ryan," he said softly. "Just... really good. I'm sorry that-."

"Nuh-uh, no apologizing, none of that crap," Ryan said firmly. He stood, leaned over Zach, and kissed him. Zach returned the kiss seemingly as a reflex before he cutely withered back. "I don't wanna hear any apologies, 'cause you got a nice dick and one hell of an ass on you."

"You're just saying that," Zach groaned. He covered his smile.

"Who was it that said actions speak louder'n words?" Ryan asked, and shrugged. "Roll over, kid, lemme show you what else this tongue can do. C'mon."

The mouse eased back onto the bed, then rolled himself over. Several seconds passed before his chubby ass cheeks stopped jiggling. "This guy licked my butt once," he said. "And, uh, I honestly enjoyed it..."

Ryan's work-hardened paws closed around Zach's abundantly plump ass cheeks. His penis dangled beneath his gut, erect and drooling colorless but heavily musky fluid. "That's kinda the idea behind a rimjob," the wolf said dryly. "Makin' you feel good, that is. Makes me feel pretty fucking good too, if I'm being honest with you."

He pulled apart Zach's cheeks and the cooler air of the room chilled his ass crack, caused his pucker to tense as if winking at Ryan. The fat wolf's grin was horribly sleazy. "That's a nice backdoor you got, kid." His muzzle dropped into the crack, and as he often did with the boys he collected, he pushed his thick, cool nose pad against rodent's anus. His sniff was subtle, its brevity the result of his belief that Zach would find ass-sniffing strange. Satisfied with his quick sniff of the mouse, he smeared his nose up through the canyon that was Zach's ass crack. His tongue slopped after it, dragging along Zach's taint and the rim of his asshole.

Zach tensed and huffed. He nuzzled the bed, closed his eyes. "Mm, okay. You're already better than the other guy I mentioned." He reached back and touched Ryan's ear. He was not trying to touch any specific part of the wolf, but he quite liked the ears and was happy to feel one. "Thanks, Ryan..."

Ryan slurped his tongue messily out of Zach's ass crack. He gave an enormous cheek a playful pinch with his front teeth, causing Zach to shudder. "Pleasure's all mine, kid! Want me to keep going?"

"Yeah," Zach said without hesitating, and he smiled dreamily as Ryan settled right back into the rimjob. Zach visualized the trucker's broad, pink tongue dragging over his anus. His tongue was so big and warm, wet and smooth. It was a very loving tongue, mostly because Ryan knew just what to do with it. His laps were firm and slow as if he were preening Zach.

The wolf swabbed his tongue up from taint to tail and pulled back his muzzle again but kept his chin on the split of the mouse's ass cheeks. "Got a question for ya, kiddo. You gonna help me like I helped you?"

Zach had been wondering about that. Still with his eyes closed and his voice now pacified and warm, he said, "I'd like to. Um, what do you have in mind?"

Ryan smooched one of the mouse's ass cheeks affectionately. "There's always the obvious," he chuckled. "Assuming you don't mind taking it up the butt."

The coolness of tone Zach had gained began to waffle. "Well, see-, actually, it's been a-, I don't really-..."

"Forget it, kiddo," Ryan gently said, paw caressing the rodent's generous ass. "Tell you what, I got a better idea. Somethin' tells me you're gonna dig on this too."

In a moment, Ryan had climbed onto the bed and started to straddle Zach. The mouse smiled as it dawned on him. "No. Ryan, hold on, don't do that, just lay back for me."

The wolf's dark cock already rested on the mouse's crack. He pushed against the boy hungrily then pulled away and flopped over on his back. "I wasn't gonna put it in you, kid."

"I know you weren't," Zach giggled as he righted himself. "And that's not what I'm gonna do right now. I'm just gonna do what you were gonna do." The beautiful boy slipped over Ryan, small genitals pressing into the broad curve of the wolf's paunch. His bubble butt bumped Ryan's proudly standing cock and a firmer push sunk it between the cheeks, going with the length of his ass crack. The trucker's fat meat nearly vanished in the plush warmth. Zach cooed, "Oh, that feels better than I thought it would. You were gonna do this, weren't you, Ryan?"

"More clever than I gave you credit for, kid," Ryan said, almost giggling himself. His expression was one of supreme pleasure. His burly black paws cupped the mouse's bottom and squeezed it fondly. "Ride on me, mousey-boy," he said with a sigh. He let his arms fell slack like he wanted to make a snow angel. When Zach began to buck and bounce, the old wolf cooed, closed his orange eyes. "That's it, kid. Your big ol' butt's made for this kinda thing. God, that's fine."

Zach's fleshy hands played over Ryan's jiggling, graying gut, rubbing symmetrical whorls in the fur reminiscent of crop circles. "Mm, yeah, this is a lot better than I figured it would be," he reiterated. He shut his eyes and listened to the soundscape of the room. It consisted of the squeaking bed and, more interesting to him, Ryan's huffs and moans. "Gawd, Ryan. I think you may be right about my big butt..."

Ryan outright giggled now. After the blowjob, Ryan's more effeminate vocalizations did not surprise the mouse. "One thing you'll learn hanging out with me is I'm always on the ball when it comes to big, soft asses, kid. Keep going."

"I am, I am," Zach said, but he did not feel rushed. It only seemed natural to escalate from here. Ryan's thick, dark penis demanded love from his fat behind. He could feel its flesh throbbing in there, drooling into his ass crack, adding to the layers of slobber the wolf's tongue had saturated his fur with. "This is really, really gay to say, Ryan, but I like how your dick feels back there."

"Nothing wrong with that," Ryan quietly replied. His enviably long tongue slipped out over his jowls. "Mm, kid, hey. Do a little something else for me. Tune the radio if it ain't too much trouble."

Zach halted his ride, a confused smile affixed to his face. "Tune the-?" It hit him before he finished. He giggled, started riding again, and grappled with Ryan's plump moobs. Zach was too gay to appreciate breasts on a woman, but Ryan's were cute in a peculiar fashion. He twiddled the wolf's nipples, only now realizing how they matched the hue of his penis. "Like this, Ryan?"

The wolf grunted and huffed, grinning wide. He kicked at the bed a few times. "Mmf, yeah, you got it. Fuck, that's such a weird thing, innit? But I guess nipples on a guy are good for somethin' after all."

Zach warmly laughed. "You're re-e-eally not anything like any other old guys I've met. I think that's a really good thing."

"I'm a prototype. Never made it to mass-production, you see," Ryan japed. He licked his jowly lips again. "Mm, now kid, I'm not all that far off right now. Unless you wanna have to wash some spunk off your back, you may wanna change this up now..."

"The room's got a shower," the mouse replied, and that was that. He went on bouncing upon Ryan's hips, tugging the wolf's meat with his fat ass cheeks, and his fingers carried on twiddling and tweaking, seldom twisting and never far when they did. He thought about what Ryan had said, tune the radio, and started to snicker. "You're so weird, Ryan. It hasn't been very long, but I like you."

The grip of Zach's cheeks on Ryan's cock was so snug that his descents tugged the foreskin downward to bare, in its tender entirety, the glans of the wolf's penis. Zach's short, soft follicles tickled the sensitive flesh and lured more precum from it, eventually turning a constant drip to a steady leak. Ryan's toes curled and he reached for the mouse, touched his slim chest longingly. "I get that a lot, and I mean an awful lot," said Ryan between sharp breaths. "Uhn, gawd, kid. You're rocking that big butt like a champ, y'know. You're fucking milking me."

Zach blushed crimson. He boldly leaned inward, palms sliding off of Ryan's chest and into the bed. Their noses almost met and Zach planted a fleeting kiss on the old wolf's lips. Ryan smooched him back but kept his tongue to himself. "It's just different with you. It's like-, I can't really say, not for sure... but this feels good. It's not just a sex thing."

"Just takes a lil' push, kid," he grunted, visibly straining to hold back. "Uh-huh, just a little push." Then Ryan could hold back no longer, and he grimaced, baring grubby teeth slick with saliva. His burly paws gripped Zach's hips and he held the rodent still. He bucked into Zach, fucking the mouse's cheeks in a desperate, almost reflexive bid to wring as much pleasure as he could from the boy before he popped.

Thick jets of semen slopped the base of Zach's tail, the appendage blocking most of the wolf's climax from shooting up his back. Some still made it to the small of the mouse's back, helping him to feel well-used and painted. The rest ran down his ass crack and caused him pleasure he found shameful, but intense. He could have measured Ryan's pulse in the throbs his meat gave, its surface flush with veins which reached their true plumpness only now as he climaxed, and which quickly began to smooth out again as the wolf's orgasm died down.

Zach reached back and cupped the underside of Ryan's penis like stroking someone under their chin. He smiled, licked his lips. "You must really like my fat butt," he said dryly. His smile was thin, his cheeks still glowing, but there was a hint of some future confidence in his expression. "Are we gonna sleep here tonight?"

Ryan had been considering the motel room only as a place to fuck the boy and take a quick shower. Such a powerful orgasm made him tired the way a big meal would have. He closed his orange eyes against the cobwebbed popcorn ceiling. "Mm, we can-, yeah," he murmured. "It's cool, kid. We can sleep here." He yawned, and Zach was spurred to yawn with him. "Truck's pretty comfy, but it stacks two, y'know what I mean?"

Zach giggled. He moved smoothly onto the bed, lying face-down. Ryan's semen glistened on his overweight bottom. "I don't know how much I'd mind sleeping on top of you, actually..."

The wolf snorted. "Fuck you, kid. Everyone says that, but then it's all," he put on his approximation of a whiny teenager's voice, "oh, Ryan, I can't sleep, you keep snoring too loud. Ryan, your pee-pee is rubbing on my belly. Ryan, you farted again." Zach started to laugh and Ryan grinned. "Trust me, sleepin' in the truck isn't that fun for more than one guy."

"Oka-a-ay, if you say so," Zach conceded. He got up with a little effort, taking great care not to get his sticky behind on the bed. "I'm going to shower up. You wanna-?"

"If that shower's anything like the hundred're so other motel showers I been in," Ryan interrupted tiredly, "it's so goddamn small that if you and me both got in, it's gonna look like a tin of Spam in there. You go ahead and do you, kiddo. I'mma get a little sleep, I think."

"Sure," Zach said, smiling anyway. He leaned over the bed, smooched Ryan, and cooed, "Goodnight, Ryan. And, um... thank you."

"Welcome, kid," Ryan rumbled. "Get the light, would you? And keep it down if you can."

Zach turned out the lights and turned on the tiny reading lamp as a night light. By the time he got out of the shower - which he found barely big enough to turn around in, in fact almost thinking it claustrophobic - Ryan was snoring under the blankets, his back to the small lamp. Early morning sunlight failed to pierce the thick blackout curtain hung over the single window, keeping the room at a steady blackness regardless of the hour. Zach climbed in under the blankets with him, and after a moment of hesitation, cuddled up to the big, musky wolf. He had never met a better teddy bear than Ryan Huffman.