POV non-vore - you and the "Clever Boy"
Your meeting with the sea lion ends with a burp, but not the sort you might have expected.
This was the original idea for the "clever boy" series, but by the time I worked out how to make it work it was already a vore strip. Maybe I'll do another one sometime with this sort of thing happening.
"Holy shit!"
You've been down this beach a hundred times, seen the pier and the shadowy rocks underneath, seen the oil derricks in the dim distance, smelt the salt air. You've seen plenty of sea lions. Just never one with a set of human feet sticking out of its mouth.
You stop and stare. A pale-skinned set of feet hang down on either side of the sea lion's lower jaw. The heels disappear under its bulging cheeks and a swelling in its neck shows where the mostly swallowed person's legs are. Further down the blubbery beast's thicker torso hides any further evidence, but you know what you are looking at. It lies there with eyes nearly shut, looking rather smug about its meal. If it swallowed one more time before you walked up you would never have known what happened.
The smug sea lion stirs, lifting its thick column of a neck. The feet kick in its maw as it tenses, preparing for the last gulp. Instinctively you dart forward, reaching for the barely visible ankles before it can swallow.
The sea lion's eyes snap open at the sudden movement and it bends its thick neck, swivelling its muzzle to the side so you miss the protruding feet. At least the effort of doing that kept it from swallowing the poor soul down. The feet shift against its chin as it glares at you.
The sea beast must be four times your mass. Attacking it to save the person isn't going to work. You are in the shadows under the pier and its a bit of a run before you'd even see someone, much less got them to help. You'd get back just in time to hear the burp.
"Rescuing" a suffocated, acid-burned beachgoer isn't going to help anyone and that assumes the sea lion doesn't swim off to find a quiet place to digest its meal.
All you can think to do is reason with the thing. "Come on," you plead. You gesture at the feet. "You don't really want to eat that. Go find a nice fish."
Amazingly, the sea lion looks at you and seems to understand. Or at least it recognizes the tone. It looks at you narrow-eyed for a moment then rolls over.
You blink as it stares cross-eyed at the feet protruding from its maw and then down at its lower end. At the wrist-thick pink shaft protruding from its belly, to be exact.
"Oh, you dirty animal."
The sea lion grunts and lifts its muzzle, tensing once more to swallow the feet down. An image flashes into your mind of you apologizing to the victim's family. "All we recovered were your daughter's shorts. They're kind of discolored by their, uh, trip."
"All right! All right." You kneel in the sand and reach out. Rubbery pink sea lion cock fills your hand and the beast grumbles approvingly. Grimacing, you start to pump.
The thick pink rod is lubricated by some sort of bodily grease or slime from the sunken-in sheath and your hand slides easily along it. His balls must be buried under fat. The ridge of sheath swells against your fingers but doesn't retract the way a dog's would. It stays in place as the cock comes sliding out and soon there's so much of it you have to use both hands.
That means you have to lean in closer and you breathe in the funk of a penis that spends most of its time buried in a sea lion's belly fat. It doesn't smell good, it smells like rancid grease, but it works just fine and the sea lion's lower body arches as he thrusts against your hands. He's as stiff as an iron bar but other than a few clear drops oozing from the tip there's no sign of an end to it all.
You glance up to make sure he hasn't swallowed the feet and see he's instead disgorged the ankles and part of the calves. They are as slimy as his cock but not with grease. Instead they are wet with the saliva that slicked them down for easy swallowing.
The knees have almost reappeared but the instant you let go with one hand to grab an ankle the sea lion's blissful expression goes grumpy again and he bolts half the calves back out of sight. Clearly he's not coughing up his meal until he cums and the feet aren't kicking any more.
"Damn it." You imagine the poor beachgoer stretched out in a slimy chute of throat, too weak to struggle against the inward-pressing fat. Slowly suffocating as they try to figure out why they haven't been fully swallowed yet, but with their face in the slimy cauldron of the sea lion's stomach.
You have to hurry. Grimacing, wanting to do anything but what you are about to do, you open your mouth for the fleshy tip of a sea lion's cock.
God, it tastes even worse than it smells. Lying in a fat-lined sheath all day didn't do it any favors and the greasy cock makes you gag. You persevere, licking beneath the irregular bulge at the tip and wrapping your lips around it to suck.
Suddenly one of the sea lion's foreflippers wraps around you and shoves. Your eyes go wide and you gasp futilely for air as a foot of greasy cock goes down your throat. Your jaws strain wide and your throat stretches tight around far too much cock. You can't even bite down and tears well from your eyes as he rams into you until your face is pressed against his blubbery belly.
You dig your fingers into the fat beast's hide and try to push it away but the sea lion is too strong. He grunts, shudders, and cums.
You struggle and twist, trying to get away, but he holds your face against his belly as he thrusts once, twice, and a third time. The greasy, foul-tasting cock pulsates in your throat as he shoots his wad. Finally he lets out a shuddering breath and relaxes.
Instantly you pull away, a thick rod of sea lion cock reappearing from your lips. You gag and almost throw up but sadly you don't. Instead you reflexively swallow and you actually feel the gluey mass of sea lion cum slide down your throat. There must be a cup of it and it clings together like snot all the way down. A whole lot of potential baby sea lions die a gurgling digestive death that isn't half as bad as the one you wish on the source of all that sperm.
"You horrible thing," you gasp, and grab the wet ankles hanging out of the sea lion's mouth. He doesn't twist away this time, far too relaxed in his post-orgasmic bliss, and you yank.
As soon as you touch the feet you know something is wrong. They are hard, cool. Plastic. You yank and a set of mannequin legs reappears from the sea beast's maw. They are slimy and warm from their adventure but they definitely aren't the half swallowed person you expected to rescue.
"Oh, you..." you glare at the sea lion, who is slit-eyed and smug, paying no attention. He doesn't even rouse as you bounce one of the legs off his bullet head. Blubber insulates him from the blow and the leg isn't heavy enough to do any real damage.
You grab the other one and whack the oblivious sea lion's chest. You would have clubbed him in the dick had it not already retracted into its sheath. It's hard to even make out where it slid out without a pink tip. You glare, whack the leg against that general area to no effect, and stalk away incandescent with rage.
The filthy thing did it on purpose! He must have chewed on the feet to make them seem to kick, all to get his rocks off!
You burp and taste sea lion spooge. It doesn't improve your mood and you make your way to the lifeguard's chair to report it.
"Sorry, " he says after you relate your tale. He doesn't even change expression. "Sea lions are a protected species. Not all the bulls are strong enough to fight for a harem and they get horny too. He's not hurting anyone."
"Not hurting anyone?" You spit, trying to rid your mouth of that rancid taste. "He tricked he into sucking him off!"
Finally the lifeguard's expression changes. He smiles.
"You too, huh?"