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Sitting across from me, Ryan reached over to set his empty glass at the edge of the table - and he did so with a sly, pointed look my way. I couldn't help but raise my eyebrows over my own drink.

"What? Again?"

"Mhmm." The wolf sat back, rubbed his belly with one paw, then promptly leaned in to get back to work on his plate of ribs. I'd recommended that dish in particular to him when he'd expressed a want to come to this restaurant, and it gave me some amount of pride to see that he really did enjoy it as much as I thought he would. "What can I say? I'm just really thirsty today."

"I guess you are."

His early-morning practices sometimes did that to him: he played for the football team of one of the local rec centers, something relatively small - certainly not as popular as what you'd see on TV, but that just meant more time with him for me - but perhaps just as demanding. As in, practices beginning two or three hours before the rising of the sun, so that the sound of him getting into the shower woke me up in the mornings... we didn't live together yet, with myself just going over to visit him on the weekends, but I think we'll be getting there soon.

Already things felt a lot better, a lot smoother_compared to our first date so many months ago. Meeting online, chatting a bit, first sharing interests and then sharing _interests, with pictures and a couple of short videos to follow... I reached for my fork while watching the way the wolf tore into those ribs, sharp teeth slicing into flesh and pulling it free from yellowed bone, broad pink tongue curling beneath to catch any of the dripping sauce and pull it back in. He swallowed, met my eyes with his bright predator's gold, licked his chops, and then grinned, and again I felt that little flutter in my chest mixed with the jolt in my loins.

Ryan was a good fit for sports, obviously. Firm, thick arms, the muscles showing through smooth fur when he did something so easy as eating; broad shoulders, tight chest, rippled abs, powerful thighs and legs... here I glanced down at my plate, realized I'd been stabbing at an empty spot, and moved over a bit to spear a noodle.

Being an otter, I had been pushed into swimming in early high school and carried it through at the community college, but never really did any of that outside. Sometimes Ryan brought me on lengthy jogs in the mornings he didn't have practice, and then once we got back to his place he would strip out of his gym shorts - he hardly ever wore underwear beneath - then sit on the edge of the bed, spread his legs, run a paw down along sweat-slickened fur, and-

The waiter, a slim yet built striped hyena with smooth brown fur and darker stripes, slid by to take Ryan's glass. I focused on my dinner to try to get those thoughts out of my head, but my eyes went right back to the now-full water glass when the hyena brought it back. He placed it on the table and Ryan thanked him with a nod, then reached over, brought it to his muzzle, made sure I was watching, and tilted his head back, throat pulsing with each gulp.

And he emptied it again, right there, the fresh ice rattling in the empty-again glass. Naturally that just sent my mind back into those thoughts: he often brought along a big bottle of water on those morning jogs, and when we went to shower he would put a paw on my shoulder, give me that big hungry grin, say something like "help me out with this, I didn't quite sweat all of that out", and then push me down to my knees in front of him.

This time I missed my mouth, spreading a bit of the alfredo onto the fur of my cheek. My boyfriend's muzzle twitched in an amused smile and he dove right back into the next of the ribs, while I found my napkin and wiped it off.

"How about you?"

A little surprised, I looked back up at him. He watched me with those so-sharp eyes, idly chewing his meal. When he leaned in to take another bite, his smooth lips curled back to show sharp, glistening fangs, and that same broad tongue wet with saliva.

"Huh?"

"Are you thirsty?"

"Oh - well-" I reached over and picked up my own drink, lemonade pressed in-house here at the restaurant. It was alright. "Not _too_much, or at least, not as much as you..."

"No." Ryan swallowed again, licked his lips, and glanced over at his own empty glass, then back to me. "You know. Thirsty." He tossed the thoroughly-stripped rib bone down against his plate and leaned in, one footpaw coming forward under the table... to press right up between my thighs, surprisingly dexterous toes squeezing in at my front. Then, in a lower voice: "You know how it is, Cole, dear. All this water I'm drinking's gotta go somewhere."

Even further surprised, I straightened right up, then lowered back down and tried to cover my mouth with my paw. Not even a year together yet, though we were approaching that milestone quite quickly, and already he could tell what I was thinking... looking back at him again just brought my embarrassment back, though, and I had to spend another second fiddling with my food before I could find the ability to speak.

"Well-" That footpaw pressed in, making me squirm. Slowly I slid a paw down beneath the table and pulled it in more firmly, squeezing his toes around the growing stiffness twitching beneath the fabric there. "I mean... let's finish eating, and then we can go home and I'll-"

"No." The pressure lightened for a moment when the waiter swung by again, giving Ryan a questioning look. Then the wolf leaned in further, pressure returning. He slid his footpaw up and down just barely a half-inch. "Here."

"What? Here? Like - beneath the-"

"No, no. Oh, thank you. Hey - could we get the bill? Thanks." He glanced up at the hyena, then back to me. "I mean," said with him drawing his footpaw away, "we finish up here, we get cleaned up, we pay... and then you follow me into the bathroom stall, and I fill whatever space you've got left in your belly. Sound good?"

Suddenly I found my appetite had fled me, though not in any sort of bad way. Of course not. Instead it was as though I had looked over and seen something else I wanted more than the alfredo I'd ordered - and in a way I had, seeing how Ryan leaned over the table, chin on his paw, smooth bicep bulging beneath the sleeve of his shirt. There was something else I wanted more, much more, and instead of my stomach growling for it, there was a twitching between my legs that marked that want.

Still, though, I reached over and finished up the forkful I had gotten. "Yeah," I said, forcing myself to hold his gaze. My rudder twitched and flicked on the seat beside. "That sounds - that sounds great."

"Good. In fact... oh, yes, and a box, please?" Yet again he glanced up, this time giving the waiter a much more pleasant smile than the type he often reserved for me. In a quick motion the wolf had slid his card in and handed it back. That done, he looked back to me and shifted in his seat. "Well, it's good the service is fast today. A couple more minutes and I think I_would_ have to get you under the table."

And he knew what words like that did to me, too. I wanted him to reach forward and grind his footpaw against me again, just so I could have something to push and squeeze against while waiting, but he didn't - so I had to satisfy myself with surreptitious gropes and adjustments beneath the table waiting for his card to come back. Naturally, though, that satisfaction couldn't come just from that, and when we did finally stand up and head back through the aisles towards the restrooms, I realized that my heart was pounding in my chest from the excitement and nervousness.

Ryan took my paw in his once we left the main area of the restaurant, and turned me around to plant a soft yet hungry kiss to my lips around the corner. Despite myself and my interest, I couldn't help but smile once he had turned back around and reached out to push the bathroom door open: his mouth tasted of steak sauce and pepper. Certainly, though, he'd replace that taste with something else before too long.

I'd fantasized about scenarios like this before, of course, and quickly discovered that one of my fears had indeed come true: there was someone else already in the bathroom when we came in, a slim dark-furred foxwolf standing at the urinal with his muzzle pointed up to the ceiling. Ryan shared a quick glance to me, then looked over at the far stall with its door hanging partially open.

Maybe, I thought, we can sneak in... but, my boyfriend eliminated all possibility of that. He motioned to the box under my arm.

"Got your food?"

"Huh?" I frowned and looked down. The foxwolf's ears flicked and he turned his head a bit. "Um... I mean, yeah?"

"Yeah. Good." Ryan stood in place and folded his arms in front of his chest as though waiting for the urinal to open up. It took another moment for me to realize that that was exactly what he was doing, as a cover: the only other one had an 'out of order' sign slung around it. "We'll get you that drink you want before we head out."

"Oh. Um." I swallowed, shoving my paws into my pockets to keep this darn tent down. The foxwolf glanced down, shook himself off, then zipped up and slid over to the sink. "Yeah. That sounds good. Will you - be long?"

Ryan took his time in stepping forward, already fiddling with his belt; then a second later beneath the hiss of the sink I could hear his zipper come down too. He glanced down, then up, then looked over at the foxwolf... "No," he began, and swallowed. The foxwolf turned, pulled a few paper towels from the dispenser, wiped his paws... "Not long at all." ...and then was out the door.

Ryan turned back to me then, thumb hooked around the back of his sheath and forefinger squeezing it from underneath. With his other paw he pointed to the stall. "In there. On your knees. Now."

"Yes, sir," I breathed, without thinking about it. Ryan raised his eyebrows at that but didn't say anything, instead giving my rump a smack with that paw right as he followed me. Even before I had had time to get into position he had locked the door behind us and tugged my muzzle forward, pushing my nose into the thick untrimmed bush of pubic fur at the base of his sheath. "Wait-" I said, then pulled in a deep breath of his musk. He _had_showered, yesterday, but already his scent had gathered in force - and I loved every bit of it. Just now settling down onto my knees, I reached down to pull my shirt off. "Let me j-"

"No." One paw on my head and the other on his sheath, Ryan tilted my muzzle up, slid the lip of his sheath back to show the slick pink tip of his length, and then pressed himself up against and between my lips. Whether that was the natural slickness of his length sliding in or some of his gathered piss, I couldn't tell at first - but as soon as he released the grip of his finger around his sheath, it without a doubt became the latter. "You're gonna drink all of it, and not spill a drop."

I didn't have any choice in the matter. His scent swirled around my nose, the taste of his musk clung to my tongue, and before I could do anything else or even catch a breath I felt him start to drain his bladder directly into my maw, hot and fresh and fast. The taste had been muted somewhat due to how much he had drunk throughout the meal, but still it was there: I closed my eyes and slid further in along his shaft, pushing his sheath back with my lips to bring him more into my muzzle while he filled my mouth and bulged my cheeks. Then I swallowed, and did so again, and again, each time able to feel the heat slide down my throat and fill up my belly.

Soon I could taste his piss on my breath as well, in the little puffs and inhalations of his musk that I caught between swallows. Hot, dry, musty, with that same characteristic bite to it with which he had gotten me thoroughly acquainted... hearing him let out a slow sigh of relief, I slid my paws up to his waist and pulled him in closer, loving the feeling of the warmth of his mark streaming out from the more intense heat of his shaft on my tongue.

"See?" Ryan rumbled, rubbing behind my ear with his fingers - and in the same movement pulling me down a bit further, so that the supple skin of his sheath bunched up against my lips. "Told you you didn't need to take your shirt off. You're doing great, hon. Doing... great..."

It was becoming a bit of a challenge to keep up with his pace at this point, especially after having eaten half of my meal, but I did my best. I let him balloon my cheeks with his mark before swallowing it down again, always keeping some in my maw so I could enjoy the sharp yet muted taste; I opened my eyes, looked up at him, breathed a little moan through his pubic fur, and then slid a paw down from his waist to unbutton and unzip my own pants.

It was hard not to let out another breathy moan when I gave myself a few slow, much-needed strokes, but I kept it down by pushing my nose into his pubes again: the music coming from the main area of the restaurant strengthened suddenly, and a second later I heard the bathroom door closing followed by new footsteps approaching the urinal. I looked up at Ryan again, and he held my gaze, grinned, and put a finger to his lips.

Then, slowly, he started to pull back out of my muzzle, the underside of his cock still twitching with his flowing stream. He slid right back to his tip and then changed direction to push back in, and then did so again, and again: carefully I opened my muzzle and leaned back to let him use me_for his urinal, sliding in along my tongue and lower lip. Eventually his stream dwindled down to a stop - he _could piss while hard, as we both knew from experience - and he gave himself a few strokes before motioning for me to get up.

To get up, turn around, and bend over the toilet. I closed my mouth, still with a half-mouthful of fresh piss rolling around on my tongue, swallowed half of it, and leaned in for a kiss - and pushed the rest back into his mouth, to which he scoffed, held my muzzle to his, and leaned over me, shoving his tongue right back against mine to mix that mark with both my saliva and his own, and then ensure that I drank it down.

Over the divider came the sound of whoever had just come in emptying his bladder as well; Ryan and I shared another smile before I bent over the toilet, using one paw to slide my pants and underwear down my thighs. Ryan smirked again and half-knelt down behind me, one paw bringing himself the rest of the way out of his sheath while he brought his other to his maw. A low, quiet sound of him spitting, then some licking, then another spit, and he spread me with his thumb pulling in along the rim of my tailhole and spread some of that sticky slickness right across the pucker, and then moved in to do the same to his own shaft.

He didn't waste any time in getting himself lined up. I gripped the smooth edges of the toilet when he started to sink into me, his heat and girth pushing in past my rim and slowly stretching me: I tilted my head back and relaxed as best I could, letting the sweet, tense pleasure ride out of my maw in a low sigh. The wolf's paws squeezed my hips in pulling me slowly back onto him, then made their way up my sides beneath my shirt... and then around my front with him leaning over me, to grip my shaft right at the base of my sheath.

"Keep quiet," he breathed into my ear, voice ragged, "and you might get something extra."

I nodded, not trusting my voice to speak, and shifted beneath his extra weight - and accidentally kicked the box of leftover alfredo, causing it to skid across the tile floor a short distance. Ryan slowed but did not stop his pace, lifting his head to listen: I did the same, and before long our unknown visitor finished up, coughed a couple of times, and then left the restroom, without washing his paws.

Not that I could say anything about cleanliness, of course, what with this wolf here having just pushed his slick sheath between my lips and filled my belly with his hot piss. As soon as the door closed behind him again Ryan picked his pace back up, pushing in to the bulge of his knot and then sliding back out only to turn around and do the same again and again, each time a little faster, a little firmer than the one before, each time with a stroke and squeeze of his paw around my throbbing length.

The wolf bent more fully over me, resting some of his weight against my thigh amid his thrusting. His other paw he brought up beneath my shirt towards my chest, then ran it back down to my belly. "How's it feel?" he panted in my ear, adjusting his pace a bit: now he grinded himself against me, pushing the bulge of his unswollen knot against my tailhole again and again, yet not trying to push it through. We had done that once before, and though it had been a good idea at the time... "Belly full of your boyfriend's mark?"

"Feels..." I swallowed and licked my lips, working my rump back against his hips. Such a delicious feeling, the heat of his cock pressing under my tail, the pulsing of his throbs, the warmth of his body on mine - and, of course, the gurgling heat of that mark, sloshing around in my belly with each lurch forward and back. "Feels good. God..."

"Yeah? Well..." Ryan slowed his pace then, and squeezed his other paw at the base of my cock. I continued for a bit, expecting him to do the same, then glanced back when he held at a standstill: right before I asked if everything was alright, though, the wolf gave a shudder and a sigh of relief, then relaxed and put more of his weight onto my back. "How's... this..."

And then I felt it, when he pulled his hips back and pushed forward again. The slight extra pressure, the growing heat, the weight flowing out into me from behind... and then more, and more, and more, as he continued to drain his bladder into me, this time beneath my tail instead of onto my tongue. I squirmed and grabbed at the back of the toilet, trying to find something more to hold onto, but instead just dragged my claws along the smooth surface; Ryan chuckled in my ear and picked his rhythm back up again, slower this time, careful not to pull too far out and end up spilling his mark.

"Well?" he said, mixed pleasure and relief weighing down his voice. "Tell me, pup..."

"That's... ah..." It was hard to speak. It was an odd feeling, really: vaguely uncomfortable with the volume pouring into me, but the heat and the pressure against me from inside, and the knowledge of what it was he was doing, and how he continued to thrust and push into me while continuing to piss inside of me... I throbbed in his paw and he started to stroke me again, fast, hard. "Hah, gosh..."

He kept his thrusts slow and deep, making sure to push far into me amid his own piss and then pull back out, the heat of his mark starting to drip down the back of my sack and onto the tile floor beneath us. I couldn't tell if he had actually finished emptying himself this time due to just how much_he had poured into either end of me, but at that point, I didn't really care either: each thrust and stroke, each nuzzle against my neck, each throb and pulse under my tail... before long I was panting and groaning, head rested sideways against the toilet, pushing back against the wolf's hips - but not pushing _too hard.

The smacks of his hips against my rump had already taken on a heavier, wetter sound to them, and I knew that if I went any further I'd just empty his mark right back out into his pubic fur and probably into his pants as well. That would be something to save for when we got back home: still I could taste him on my tongue and breath, too, and when he had finally come back to his previous pace the wolf reached up with his other arm to tilt my head to him, and slipped his tongue back into my muzzle again. Once there his other paw shifted from my own twitching, throbbing, bouncing cock to my hip, fingers digging in and pulling me tightly against him while he thrust into me again and again and again; he sucked on my tongue, he slid his in against the roof of my mouth, he gasped through his nose and moaned between my lips - and then he bucked forward, adding just a bit more heat and pressure to what he had already dumped inside of me.

Once, twice, a third time... and a fourth, each one accompanied by another powerful thrust as he emptied his load under my tail, streaking out into the piss that already filled me. I squirmed and squeezed as best I could around him, shifting my body forward and back to milk out the last of what he had to give: then in another moment, when he'd caught his breath in fervent little gasps around my lips, his paw returned to its place, pushed my sheath back, ran from base to tip, and then slid right back down with his fingers squeezing.

That was all it took for me. I, too, gasped and moaned, a bit louder than I had intended - I hadn't been listening if anyone else had come into the bathroom, and I felt certain that Ryan hadn't, either - and then bucked forward, painting the front of the toilet with my own load. The force of the orgasm ran through me in a couple sweet, shuddering waves, eventually causing me to pull off of the wolf's still-twitching shaft and leak a good portion of his mark down the back of my sack into a puddle in the floor; I gasped and squeezed back again, trying to hold it in, and then nearly dead-weighted across the toilet.

After a moment Ryan sat back, running his claws down my back as he did so. I felt the soft touch of a thumb against the pucker of my tailhole, straining to keep from emptying. "There you go..." he murmured, and then pushed that thumb in. "Oh. My. You are very full, hon..."

"Yeah," I replied, nodding. I pushed back a little further, sliding back up to the knuckle on him, then pulled forward off of his thumb. "I am. Let's - get home so I can take care of this..."

"We can take a shower," he offered, standing up. I turned to watch him do his pants and belt back up, then smiled when he reached a paw down to help me stand up. "And we'll see if there's anything left in me."

I had to lean against him while tugging my own pants back up my legs. It was a little uncomfortable what with the swiftly-cooling wetness between my thighs, but - well, it wasn't anything I hadn't dealt with before. "I'll have to go, too, y'know. Thanks to you. I'm gonna be pissing _your_piss."

"Yeah?" He hooked an arm around my shoulders, then paused at the door. Not like it would change anything: if there were someone out there, they would've already heard our conversation. Satisfied, though, the wolf undid the lock and stepped out. "So, then, how about, I paw you off while you're taking care of that, and see if I can make you cum right when you finish? Also," said with a low chuckle, "that is a weird thought..."

As it always goes, though, neither of us realized until we were walking through the door that I'd left the boxed food there on the bathroom floor, right next to the puddle of piss he'd leaked out of me.