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Fuck, it was hot, but at least it was humid. I know, for other guys humidity makes it worse, but for a frog such as myself, it's generally safer to manage my body heat by keeping to the shade and moving a bit more slowly than to risk drying out. Other species have sweat ducts that make the most of the whole cooling-via-water-loss thing and, more importantly, turn off when they get too dehydrated. My amphibian skin doesn't some with as good of a shut-off switch for moisture loss, and I didn't particularly feel like caking myself with mud today. In any case, I was very much looking forward to a long cool dip once I got to the lake in the center of the park. The swim would cool me down much more effectively than it would a mammal and meanwhile also rehydrate me, so I couldn't complain too much about my skin. I also couldn't complain about the effect the heat and humidity was having on the other guys in the park.

This was a mostly demi-folk town, so sweaty, mostly hairless, male bodies were glistening all around me, often with cute little mammalian ears and tails. As far as I can tell, we amphibians tend to appreciate a good glisten even more than most. Beyond that, a nice coating of salt on the skin always accentuates the taste of a meal. My cock and tongue both twitched slightly in place, and glands began working up drool for each as I scanned the sweaty forms around me. Of course, I was getting plenty of stares as well. My immense muscles rippled under my green skin. The deep forest green of my flesh contrasted the bright red speedo I wore. It would have looked lewd, well lewder, had I not been walking with a beach towel draped over my broad shoulders. Still, the bulge in the front of my swimwear was about the size of the soccer ball I saw a group of dog-boys kicking around. Everyone who saw me walk by knew, at a glance, that despite there not appearing to be a gram of excess fat on the 200 kg mass sculpted to my 200 cm frame, my muscles were only the second most manly thing about me. While I appreciated the attention, the mix of awe, envy, fascination, and fear between and among the faces sneaking glances or outright staring, what I most wanted to see right not was someone who hadn't noticed me at all.

Today, I felt like treating myself to a taste of home. That was half the reason had I decided to go for a swim in the lake in the first place. Sure, I doubted I could find a small frog to fuck and devour, much less one that had that true taste of home, the taste of a brother, nephew, or cousin. That being said, I could still certainly chill in the water while I'd savoring the final struggles from within my gut, the last movements of a doomed prey who was still recovering from the surprise assault I had just waged on his ass. I really needed to go visit my home town again. But at the moment, my golden eyes were taking in a cute lynx-boy, focused on stretching his legs using the park bench in front of him. He wore one of those cute little tank tops that do not so much cover the torso as turn it into a vacancy sign for the ass below it, declaring to every top who sees him that this boy needs a good, hard cock. It was made out of similar synthetic material as my own speedo, as were the matching sky-blue shorts he wore. Of course, whereas my Predex speedo was designed to be able to stretch massively without breaking while retaining its original shape when not otherwise pressured, his Preyon clothing was not so robust. Indeed, it had only been designed to handle such massive stretching one or twice, but more importantly, it was designed to be readily digestible. I don't know if he realized his stretching was making his tight little crack show, but I knew two other things. Firstly, he wasn't wearing underwear. Secondly, he wasn't going to be jogging anywhere.

My tongue lashed out and wrapped around his tan neck with practiced easy. He was a lot less slippery than my kid brothers tended to be growing up, especially the ones that had lasted up until I was old enough to leave home. I had this cat-boy at my mercy the instant my strong tongue tightened around his throat. There was no issue of him escaping, but there was one other hassle that had to be dealt with. The thing was, this was a public park. There were rules of decency that had to be observed. If I started peeling the Preyon wrappers off this morsel, someone might raise of fuss. There was also no "might" about raising a fuss should I strip out of my speedo. This prudishness had annoyed me when I had first moved here, but thanks to advances in synthetic fibers and a sort of unspoken agreement regarding the letter of the law, there was a very convenient loophole. Said loophole also made it where condoms had more or less become a thing of the past. As my feline prey vainly attempted to pull my tongue off from around his neck, I let my half-webbed hands reach down to adjust my speedo. If one didn't know what to look for, one might easily have missed the fact that there were two sets of drawstrings at the front, one above the other, especially given that I always tucked the top one back behind the red fabric. As I untied the lower drawstrings, which had been knotted like the laces of a shoe a thumb's width down from the top of the speedo, what appeared to be a seam down the center of the bulge was revealed to in fact be where to halves of fabric were held together by lacing hidden behind them. As I let go of the drawstring, the tension of my prodigious endowment pressed the halves of fabric down and apart, revealing a much thinner layer of red Predex behind them. Thinner, but still just an impressively elastic. In fact, this inner layer was truly skin tight, and I knew from experience that, as it was stretched to accommodate my already growing erection, it would become increasingly translucent. Still, my cock and balls would remain clothed, and I could stretch the barely occupied tailhole of the lynx-boy's shorts up enough to have easy access to his asshole.

I yanked the lynx-boy over to me with a jerk of my tongue, twisting my torso with it to add a bit more force. He scrambled on hands and knees to avoid being dragged. It was only when he was at my feet that he did look up at me, or more accurately, my huge throbbing cock, precum dripping from a wet spot in the red fabric. He gasped as well as he could with my tongue still pressing a bit on his throat. I wasn't strangling him or anything, but I was maintaining a tight enough hold to make it obvious I could silence him without much additional effort. Honestly, I doubt I really needed too. Every bit of him, from his cute little mesh running shoes, over the ball of a tail poking out of his shorts, the tank top which hid neither his navel nor nipples, to the cute tufts of his ears screamed that this boy was a total prey-slut just waiting for a real man to come along, breed him raw, and then devour him. I wanted to tell him it was his lucky day, but well, when your hunting strategy revolves around having your tongue on standby to strangle your prey, you don't get to exchange so many pred-prey one-liners as other preds.

With banter off the menu, I decided to start with a nice fuck session as an appetizer before having this lynx as my main course. I leapt on him, my hands grabbing his wrists, and had him pinned, spread eagle, with his belly to the ground beneath me. I was a lot bigger than him with much broader shoulders, and thus, while his arms were straight, my elbows were each bent at only bit more than a 90-degree angle. I made his back arch a bit as I pulled up and back on his neck, not wanting my tongue to hit the ground if I could help it. With a bit of repositioning on my knees and wriggling my hips, I was able to thread my Predex-condomed cock through the Preyon tailhole and then shove my tip against his actual tailhole. While the wet spot had grown to encompass the entire head of my cock, I knew it wouldn't provide all that much lubrication. That didn't bother me all that much, this guy had to know he was little more than food, food had to know that preds like fucking their prey. If he didn't lube his ass up properly before leaving the house, especially in an outfit like that, well that was his problem. I was used to having to really work to get all of my cock, which was a bit larger than most one-liter water bottles, into the asses of guys a good bit smaller than me, with or without lube. In any case, this prey either had been smart enough to lube himself up or had done some other forms of stretching and warming-up before he got to the park. It only took me a dozen or so thrusts before my balls were pressing against his cheeks - and trust me, we frogs thrust harder than most. It was too hot out there for anything more than a simple, savage quickie. My tongue tensed slightly with each of my thrusts, and may have wound a bit tighter between thrusts as I approached climax. The lynx stayed conscious, though he wasn't struggling so much squirming, letting out an occasional half stifled whimper and groan. I'm sure it was painful, but I am also sure it was pleasurable. Likewise, I can't say if he was more terrified or more turned on. Really, with true prey like this boy, I am not sure even they can tell. Besides, at the end of the fuck, all that really matters was that his warm mammal ass was tight and soft enough to get me off. I felt a three-shot load pooling in my speedo as I pulled out of him. It was an odd sensation I had grown to enjoy, a bit like the feeling of distended gut pressing against my groin-bulge, less for any inherent pleasure but as a tactile trophy of a recent conquest.

On the topic of a distended gut, this lynx-boy had one final job in this world, and that was to fill my belly. I pushed off the ground with both arms and shifted so that I would land in a deep squat, like power-lifters and sumo use. Then I grabbed the lynx-boy with both hands around his waist and tossed him up into the air, imparting a bit of spin. The instant his head was facing down I yanked hard with my tongue, ensuring that he would maintain his position as he fell into my gaping maw. I more-or-less chugged him down to his waist within those first few seconds, gulping him down deep enough to secure his position. Only then did I unwrap my tongue and allowed it to explore. As I had expected, the front of his shorts were stained with cum as well. Even when I'm not trying to, I guess I'm just too good at fucking for anyone to resist. I finished slurping him down, stopping only to remove his shoes, and then continued on my way to the lake. Once more, I enjoyed the stares of all the lesser males around me, the mix of awe, envy, fascination, and fear. I was already getting horny again, and was looking forward a more, let's say, natural fuck session or three down in the lake, with the speedo shoved down and enough cooling water to allow me to truly indulge myself. With any luck, I might also find a nice little prey sweet enough to make a good dessert.