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This story was written as Day 12 of Kinktober 2019 for Diz Foley. Today's theme was Rimming, and the story contains M/M sex between consenting adults. :3

It's Not All About Dicks

"You have it easy..."

Fowley huffed, somewhat playfully as he folded his wings across his chest but with some genuine jealousy too. On the other side of the table, Diz blushed as he turned away from the cute dalmatian who had caught his eye, the two of them sharing a flirtatious moment as the stranger passed by their table at the bar.

"What? Oh, c'mon. You're just as cute as me. Don't tell me that you don't get guys checking you out."

The border collie chuckled, grinning as his avian companion's feathers fluffed up and he clicked his beak in embarrassment.

"I mean, sure. They flirt. But... that's not what I mean. Never mind though, it's dumb."

Fowley waved a dismissive wing towards his friend, but instead of dropping it Diz leaned over the table on his elbows and peered curiously at the black and white feathered bird.

"No, really. What's the issue, if it's not flirting?"

The bird sighed, leaned forward to sip his drink through its straw, and shrugged before slumping back in his seat, eyes downcast bashfully but still clearly feeling enough trust in Diz to share the truth with him in that moment.

"They flirt just fine. It's what happens if it goes past flirting. Like... I'm a guy. I present as a guy, I don't think I've ever been misgendered in my life. But..."

Fowley's voice trailed off for a moment as he tried to find a less overt, lewd way to say whatever was on his mind. He failed in that regard though, and a short while later slumped a little more in his seat as though hoping to melt into the fabric and disappear, before finally just coming out and saying it.

"Some birds, me included... we don't have cocks. We just have the one hole, all in, all out. A cloaca. And, for some guys... some people, that's a turn off. A deal breaker. So, when I say you guys have it easy... you guys who have a dick when people assume that you're gonna have a dick, that's what I mean. You don't have to worry about some dude groping you, the good kind of groping, then being all confused when they don't feel a tent. You don't have to worry about some transphobic piece of sewer trash outing their bigoted views by assuming I'm a trans-man and making some gross fucking comment about me being a 'reverse-trap' trying to trick them into trying pussy just because they've never done a moment's research on bird anatomy. And, you don't have to worry about some gorgeous guy you really like saying he doesn't think things are gonna work out, because he prefers to bottom than to top, and you've got nothing to top with."

Silence fell between the two friends. A tense, protracted, awkward silence as Fowley ceased his rather more lengthy and passionate than intended rant and folded his winged hands over the table in front of him, laying his beak down across them and just staring in frustration into the gently bubbling interior of his drink. At first, Diz offered no response, and Fowley gave no follow-up as the silence and the awkwardness between them intensified. After almost five full minutes with no talking and barely any motion between the two though, Diz' brow visibly furrowed, and Fowley looked up from his blank, frustrated staring as the dog shook his head and spoke.

"That's... bullshit."

Diz chuckled dryly, seeing a hurt, even more frustrated expression on Fowley's face and hurriedly clarifying what he meant.

"Not your side of things. I mean... obviously those dudes you mentioned are pieces of shit, but... beyond that, what you're saying they've had problems with, the fact that you don't have a dick... how fucking dull and vanilla are these dudes? Don't they know that there's more to being gay, more to gay sex, than just a dick?"

Fowley sighed and shrugged.

"Easy for you to say, since you've got one."

Diz raised an eyebrow. Fowley looked up at him, then sagged in frustration.

"Ugh, sorry. I don't mean to be a... well, y'know, about this. I know you mean well. It's just, I know they're idiots and assholes if they'll see my body the way it is and act like I've misled them or purposefully offended them. But, that doesn't help when you really like someone but you're too afraid to ask them to come home with you, and when you're too nervous to just walk up to someone and just flat out say... hey, I've got a cloaca. Wanna stick something in it?"

The bird fell silent again, and once more no-one spoke for a brief while as the bar's other patrons milled and laughed and drank around them. Eventually Diz pulled his drink over to him, sipped at it once more, then looked up over his glass to where Fowley was still lying at rest against the wooden table. The border collie frowned, he set his drink down, and stood up from the table. He padded around to where Fowley was sitting, and before the bird could say anything or even assume that Diz was just calling an end to this bummer of an evening much earlier than planned, Fowley felt one of the dog's hands slipping through the feathered fingers of his own.

"C'mon."

Diz murmured, a slight rosy glow beneath his cheeks as he pulled Fowley away from his half unfinished drink and up to his clawed avian feet. The bird regarded him with confusion, but didn't pull away from Diz' grasp nor seek to hold his friend back as the border collie began to lead him towards the front door of the bar. Soon enough of course Diz looked back over his shoulder, saw the bird's expression, and grinned as his blush grew deeper.

"I just want to prove something to you. I'm not saying it's easy, or that it'll work out every time, but... Fowley? Sometimes what you just said is really all it takes. Sometimes, if you look at a cute guy and tell them exactly what kind of way you want them to make you cum? If you tell them you've got a cloaca, and tell them that a night with you will be a night to remember, dick or no dick..."

The dog winked, and continued to lead his friend out of the bar.

"...then maybe, if they're worth a damn, they might just trust you to prove it to them."

*********

"Y-you... you really don't have to... oh god... t-to do t-this... ahhh..."

Fowley's eyes widened as Diz grasped his knees and spread them apart, the bird trembling as the border collie hungrily stared down between his legs, before leaning in and beginning to playfully nip and nibble up the side of one of Fowley's thighs. Lying on Diz' bed in the border collie's own apartment, Fowley's cheeks burned scarlet beneath his feathers as he glanced over and in the reflection of the mirror affixed to the closet door saw his friend's cock throbbing, twitching visibly as Diz gave a playful, tender growl, and his hot breath washed out over Fowley's cloaca. A second later, the bird squawked loudly and helplessly as a hot, wet tongue flicked out across the opening of his singular hole, not quite so tight and puckered as an ass but still bordered with a clenched ring of muscle. His clawed feet kicked out into the air, and his talon-like toes curled and flexed as Diz began to lick and tease all around the edge of his cloaca's opening not just without reluctance or uncertainty, but with gleeful relish at every step of the process.

"Oh god! Oh! Oh!"

The bird tried to restrain himself, tried to keep his reactions to Diz' oral assault on his body measured and sensible within reason. But, thankfully for his own body's sake, he utterly failed in that regard. It felt so good, and he neither could nor wished to deny it. The dog's tongue was a revelation, and the way Diz eagerly lapped around and at the very outer limits of his cloaca without ever probing deeper while still bringing him such potent pleasure wasn't just showing off his own skill to Fowley, but making the bird question why even when alone and without companionship he never indulged like this. Why when masturbating he always relied on toys. On dildos and other phallic objects, further fuelling in his mind the idea that cocks and things like them were the key to a satisfying sex life; a key which he could benefit from, but could never grant to others.

Now though, those obviously inaccurate thoughts were being eagerly cast aside by Fowley's pleasure-ridden mind. Instead as he felt himself being teased and pleasured so deliciously by Diz' tongue, and heard the dog not only panting with the urgency of his efforts but huffing and moaning in apparent excitement, Fowley was able to consider what he had to offer lovers himself from a whole other angle. It wasn't just a matter of being able to give them all the pleasure they craved without the use of a cock, because if Diz could do this spectacular a job on him Fowley knew that with enough practice and eagerness he could render anyone just as blissed out as he was right then. It was being able to do so without embarrassment. Without feeling like he was asking whoever he went to bed with to compromise on their expectations of pleasure, just as Diz was offering no compromise despite having made use of nothing but his tongue, and Fowley's increasingly hot, dripping, quivering cloaca.

"Oh, D-Diz!"

Fowley moaned joyously as his legs wrapped themselves around the back of the collie's hard working head, his trembling, feathered hands stroking the dog's ears while finally Diz began to press his tongue in a little deeper, the pleasure already crashing over Fowley's body cascading through him in newly intensified, all consuming waves.

"Please! Oh... oohh god, please!"

Louder, more frantic squawks began to escape the bird as he heard Diz growling hungrily into his body's most intimate depths, exploring more voraciously with his tongue at last, testing the limits of Fowley's inner workings and exploring all the even more deliciously sensitive flesh which lay within. Back arching, eyes bulging, beak clicking between multiple breathless and ultimately failed attempts at uttering any further coherent speech, Fowley swore to himself that he would never pass up an opportunity to make another man feel like this, and never again feel embarrassed about his lack of a cock when Diz' actions were vital proof that one was absolutely unnecessary to grant another man pure satisfaction, no matter what sort of stimulation he craved. A few moments after that though Fowley couldn't even think those thoughts, or any thoughts at all. His mind went blank. His beak fell slack, and with a guttural, squawking wail of delirious rapture he felt Diz' tongue lapping around the rim of his cloaca's very opening one last time before his body let loose, and a rich, intense spray of his cum splashed out forcefully against the collie's own flushed and passionately panting face.

For a good twenty seconds Fowley thrashed and writhed beneath Diz, talons quivering, feathers ruffling, cloaca convulsing in repeated spasms of intense orgasmic bliss. Even as he relaxed though, falling all but limp against the bed and feeling Diz' repeated tongue-lashings begin to fade from the repeated, devoted intensity that the dog had maintained throughout the high of his climax, the bird knew he wasn't done. Diz had made his point. Diz had proved to Fowley that a cock was entirely unnecessary to prove to a man, any man, that you could show them a night that would be remembered for a lifetime. But, now it was Fowley's turn to prove to Diz that he understood, and that he would try to take this lesson on board.

The border collie yelped with surprise, then immediate laughter as Fowley shuffled and shifted position beneath him, only to begin scooting down between Diz' legs as though seeking to escape his clutches. Instead of sliding all the way out from under Diz however Fowley just scooted down until his head was resting between the dog's legs, and with two soft, luxuriously feathered hands wrapping around the throbbing but as yet untouched length of his erection his beak nuzzled beneath the dog's heavy, fluffy furred balls.

"Ah!!"

He heard the dog gasp as he tilted his beak to one side, slipped his tongue forward, and wiggled its longer, thinner tip between the waiting pucker of the border collie's ass, only to withdraw again a moment later.

"You're right..."

Fowley moaned before repeating the action, not stroking Fowley's cock as he gently began to explore and tease the dog's ass in return.

"It's not all about dicks. But... it is about being good at what you want to share with someone, whatever it is. So..."

His tongue flicked out again, he heard the collie gasp in pleasure, and felt his cock quiver and lurch between his feathered fingers.

"...so, Diz... I'm gonna need a lot of practice before I start asking other guys home. And... in the interest of being confident, and up front about what I'm offering?"

The bird tongued at the collie's rump briefly once more, and grinned at the corners of his beak as Diz shuddered, moaned, and rocked his ass down against Fowley's beak, as though begging for more intense, less interrupted stimulation. Fowley chuckled, and with just one final murmur of passionate longing and gratitude to his friend, he gave Diz exactly what he wanted.

"I'd really, really like the ass I practice on to be yours."

By Jeeves

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