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A KINDNESS NEVER WASTED

The Mouse knew he was in danger. Yet, when danger had announced itself with the flick of a tail that ended in an auburn tuft, the Mouse decided against the urge to flee. He knew the creat1ure's sort from this lone hint, and he doubly knew he should have abandoned his meal of windfallen nuts and berries--a feast that had somehow gone untouched by buzzing insects and equally clamorous monkeys. But food like this was hard to come by. The Mouse, instead, shrank behind the jungle underbrush as the kingly beast sauntered into a sunlit opening where lush grass grew from hideaway cracks in the earth.

A Lion.

The Mouse had seen such cats before, usually in sprawling prides inhabiting the nearby grasslands. Never had he seen one in such solitude, much less one daring to chance a haphazard jungle where other predators vied for prey and territory and mates amongst towering trees choked by twisting vines. The Mouse wondered why here, why alone. Perhaps they were alike, for the Mouse did not wish to forage with the company of other mice himself (brought on, in all fairness, by the distaste mice had in his company, although that was a story for another time).

The Lion took seat upon a slab of stone the size of a hippo's back and groomed himself. Licked at his giant paws. Swiped at the handsome mane. A ceremonious affair among cats, the Mouse was sure. But the Mouse did not focus his gaze on the grooming, for it was the Lion's density of muscle, the strength and power he emanated, that earned his attention.

The Mouse recalled a memory then. Two jaguars had found respite upon a giant tree, engaging themselves in idle conversation. Both mocked the inaccuracy of the term "king of the jungle," how lions did not deserve such a designation for they had neither the skill nor intellect to navigate the boughs of the jaguar's arboreal home, much less hunt and survive in the unforgiving jungle itself. But now the Mouse could see, clearly, the merit behind this appellation. Defeating both jaguars in a scuffle--a small task for this Lion, with enough stamina remaining to hunt himself a full-grown meal afterward.

Unexpectedly, the Lion spread open both legs, and the Mouse thought that perhaps he had discovered the reason for this beast's seclusion; a hairless, forward-facing tail had sprung forth. Surely no pride would accept such an aberration among their kind.

The Mouse gulped down the mush of berries he had forgotten to swallow--this was no tail. His initial observation was incorrect. The Mouse had seen elephants romping along the grasslands who would have felt shame at their--the Mouse caught himself clearing his throat--inadequacy compared to the king of beasts.

The Lion turned his head at the sound, and the Mouse ducked behind the underbrush, careful as not to disturb the draping leaves or crush neither twig nor termite underfoot. Though the Mouse could dash into the forest and disappear into the dense foliage, something inside his bowels willed him to stay--perhaps an innate wisdom that warned how running would prompt the Lion to give chase. Perhaps curiosity was the snare that caught him, though he admitted at the irony if such curiosity led to the end of his young life.

Time and silence, however, offered their assurances to his safety, and when a pleasurable yawn followed, the Mouse took the only commodity that could be taken: the quietest of peeks. What he witnessed made his tail curl and his whiskers twitch.

A second strange yawn revealed itself, the Mouse realized, as something else entirely--an unabashed moan, an utterance of pleasure. For the Lion was enjoying his own company with neither want nor worry of his location. One paw stroked not at some malformed tail, but rather his sex--a large, girth-blessed cock, the Mouse observed. Forgive his crudeness.

Nevertheless, there the Mouse sat, eager for more. The Lion's other paw busied itself fondling two heavy testicles, enjoying its fullness and the soft surface coat of fur. The former paw made quick work of the shaft, foreskin gliding back and forth over the broad head. This coaxed out a glistening string of pre-ejaculate, and the Mouse stood amazed at the volume produced. Thick and viscous. How long would it take to cover the Lion's sizable malehood until it was fully slick and ready? But ready for what? Dirty thoughts dared not reveal itself through specific images, but the Mouse knew within the depths of his instinct there was a feeling towards which he found himself... amenable.

Perhaps it was the Lion's abject virility. True, everyone under the sun was a creature of nature, and the Mouse was no stranger to the unwavering urge to mate, to extend one's bloodline through generations of offspring. He had seen the reproductive organs of many species, the sexual union of many couples. But the Lion's genitals were like that of the wild horses that would trammel the local grasslands. Though the largeness of equine males was to be expected, the Lion here perhaps shamed their entire species. No feline could boast anything nearly as impressive, and for that, the Mouse could not look away.

How long did he sit silently? How long did the Lion pleasure himself, his watcher unknown to him? Time seemed to shrink, for the shadows swayed from the movement of the sun, and yet it felt as if only mere moments had passed.

Eventually, the Lion gave a loud grumble, a drawn-out groan that signaled his impending climax. His muscular body tensed. His paw quickened. The great maned head of the Lion tossed back, revealing incredible, vicious teeth. The Mouse, though desiring more of this incredibly sexual display, became aware of his mortality then. He could not ignore the function of those teeth. His eyes darted around for means of a direct and quiet egress. But then he was aware of a weight that hung from his loins. A strong, bothersome erection. Long and heavy and persistent. Hard as the stone the Lion had laid himself upon.

Shame and alarm overcame the Mouse. How could a prey animal find himself so aroused by a predator? How could he make his escape with this cumbersome thing insisting upon its existence, insisting that the Mouse take care of it in much the same way the Lion did to himself?

Eyes dashing about for the safest route, when he double-checked the Lion to ensure his upcoming escape was secure, the Mouse froze. Two honey-yellow stones in the underbrush. Those stones blinked. The Mouse then realized these were not stones, but amber eyes staring right at him.

"Why, hello there, small one," came the deep, rumbling voice of the Lion. "Now that you've had your fill of free entertainment, I believe it is time for my mid-afternoon snack."

He emerged through the foliage, this terrifying thing. Terror struck the poor Mouse who found himself cornered against a backdrop of towering trees. The Lion wasted no time and placed a powerful paw upon the peeping pipsqueak. The Mouse shuddered, the breadth of his entire chest at the Lion's mercy. How he feared the idea of that paw crushing him! More so than the toothy leonine grin.

"Have mercy!" begged the poor Mouse. "Free me, and I will repay you one day. This I promise!"

This amused the Lion so. But his reputation, he knew, preceded him. How would the animals come to respect him, fear him if he were to grant the freedom to any cowering rodent? Something long and very hard drew his attention, however. When he lifted his paw, the leonine grin grew to something more. The Mouse's cock sprang free, stiff as a tree trunk.

"You are aroused, young Mouse," he grumbled salaciously. "Very impressive, I must admit, even for your kind."

"My kind?" the Mouse gulped. "How many of my kind have you eaten?"

"If I am to be honest," the Lion mused thoughtfully, "you would be my first. Typically, I do not consider myself a fan of--oh, what is that term I have heard once before? Hors d'oeuvres."

A long, pink tongue licked at his chops. The Mouse gulped.

"But you are in luck for I am feeling generous today," the Lion continued. Nonchalantly, he took interest upon the digits of paw, examining the cleanliness of the claws there. "You may leave, though now that I think about it, I do not expect you to keep your promise, for how capable could mice be in service of a lion such as I?"

Avid leonine eyes roamed over his prey's excitement, his arousal despite the fear that coursed through the small creature's veins.

The Mouse, sensing how the Lion gazed at him with such hunger, and fearing a change of heart, insisted: "I will keep my promise. I will!"

Laughter grumbled from deep in the Lion's chest. "Then you are free," he announced. And when the Mouse turned his head after scampering to a safe distance, the Lion added. "And next time you decide to watch, perhaps have some courage and join in on the fun, yes?"

Whatever the Lion meant by that, the Mouse did not remain close by to discover just that.

* * *

The Lion had many thoughts regarding the Mouse. For several days, such thoughts followed him throughout the jungle like an obstinate cub. Regret at letting such a specimen free was one such thought--perhaps the primary one. Should it be a source of pride that a prey animal would find a predator--no, not just a predator, but the king of beasts--appealing in such a way? Such prurient curiosity! Perhaps a curiosity the Lion should have allowed himself to explore. But alas, the Lion's better nature had to rear its noble head. Such unfortunate timing that his last meal had been so recent. Otherwise, he would not have dismissed the rodent so readily.

Although perhaps he may have.

There was the matter of his old pride--the reason he now prowled the forest alone like some solitary leopard. They did not understand him. Did not wish to accept someone of his standard amongst their own. But the Mouse! Oh, his excitement for the Lion was quite the unexpected surprise. He wondered how mischiefs treated such matters. Perhaps mice were more loyal to their own, more forgiving than a pride.

So lost was the Lion in such thoughts that he did not see the hunter's trap that would ensnare him. Angry roars billowed through the forest once the ropes captured its unsuspecting target. Those ropes bound him tightly. Despite how his dense muscles resisted and strained, no matter how his claws fought and teeth gnashed, the Lion was no match for such human ingenuity.

A warning arose in his thoughts, a memory of some vulgar member of his old pride. Human contraptions were designed to seize even the mightiest animals around. Escape? Near impossible. And their hunters would come, wielding great tools and weapons. The Lion, if he did find a way to break free, would be skinned for his pelt and quartered for his meat.

Such warnings were a barbed trick, he once thought, meant to evoke fear and shame. For who dared hunt a born hunter?

Another angry roar made the birds flutter from their branches. When he returned to bite and claw at his binds once again, he noticed the Mouse gnawing away at the ropes with pronounced incisors. As promised, he had returned! He must have heard the Lion's cries while foraging in the jungle.

In the distance, however, a band of hunters shouted. They too had heard the Lion, and as feared, they wielded various instruments designed for one unspeakable purpose. The Lion sensed the threat in their voices, and he urged the little Mouse to make haste. The Mouse worked diligently, remaining silent and focused despite the Lion's pleas.

When the hunters arrived, hands heavy with their killing tools, before them lay their trap, set just days ago. Much to their dismay and frustration, the tangle of nets was empty.

Upon their inspection, they bridled at the discovery that one of the ropes had been chewed through, though none could determine the reason as to why or how.

* * *

Deep in his instinct, as deep as bones, the Mouse knew trouble had him by the tail.

Once free from the hunters' net, the Lion had snatched the Mouse up despite the rodent's intention to flee after fulfilling his promise. Now slung over a shoulder, the Mouse watched the jungle fall away from him as the Lion fled. In the distance, angry hunters shouted, but soon their voices grew dim.

Then there was silence--the trees had dispersed, revealing a new world.

Grasslands, lush and green, rolled away before them. From their vantage point at the jungle's edge, the fields seemed endless in all directions. Herds sauntered their way to a safe watering hole. Delicate winds tussled the long grasses. The sun shone bright in a cloudless sky, warming the Mouse and the fur along his back. From whisker to tail, he shook from the anxious thrill of escape.

The Lion slung the Mouse into a patch of grass and slumped over him, gasping for breath. How long had his legs carried him? No answer came for his very survival had led him through one unyielding thought: RUN. This one thought, however, served as a taste, a morsel, of the arduous life of a prey animal; and as the Lion gazed upon the fearful creature below him whose eyes blew wide with trepidation, sympathy softened the Lion's heart before gratitude melted it.

"You kept your word," he said to the Mouse, surprised.

Gathering his courage to speak, for the Lion's teeth were big and mere inches from his face, the Mouse said, "Seems we lowly mice are capable after all."

"Then I stand corrected." The Lion offered a nod of recognition--a most generous act, if he would say so himself. "Believe me, your honor and kindness are both noted and appreciated."

After brushing off debris clinging to his mane and fur, the Lion stood straight, composing himself, making himself presentable. The Mouse took this moment and darted for freedom. But the Lion's reflexes proved quicker, for his foot found purchase over the Mouse's tail, and the Mouse realized then his tail would serve him his death.

"Slow down there, Mouse," the Lion cooed. The Mouse felt the Lion lean closer, crawling over him until the Lion's whiskers tickled an ear. He whispered, "Perhaps I could reward you with a stronger gesture of thanks."

A firm paw spun the Mouse over. He was trapped between two muscular arms. He stared at the toothy grin. He looked down and noticed the Lion's heavy member resting against his.

Trapped.

The Mouse squeaked with regret as more of the Lion's weight pinned him to the ground. Eyes screwed tight, he wished against a firsthand view of his own demise.

"If you shall have me," the Mouse managed, his body trembling, "then make it quick. I do not wish to suffer."

When the Lion did not answer nor move, the Mouse dared a peek with one eye. The Lion unleashed a boisterous laugh.

"Make it quick?" the Lion said, wiping a tear from his eye. "Surely we can take our time. Such an impressive example of your species deserves that, no?"

The Mouse felt a stirring below, the Lion's malehood plumping to life. It grew larger. It grew harder. He looked down at it, then back to the Lion's grinning face.

"You do not wish to eat me?"

"You are not mere food, Mouse," the Lion said, then a chuckle rumbled in his deep chest. "Although one could consider you a feast in a particular way."

Certainly the Lion could not mean the size of the Mouse's... No. Impossible. But then the Mouse began to feel his own stirring as the Lion hardened against him.

"You must have a nest bustling with your offspring," the Lion said. He began to grind his hips, making both cocks jump with excitement. "Is your kind as polygamous as we lions? With a cock like that, you must attract every doe from wherever the light touches."

"No, actually," the Mouse squeaked. "I am as alone as you."

"Alone?" The Lion thought the rodent most amusing. "Brave to make such an assertion. We Lions remain prideful of our... uh, pride."

"My observation comes from experience," the Mouse replied, ignoring the Lion's bashful look after stumbling over his own words. "I have seen prides, but this is the first I have seen a solitary lion. A lion who rests upon a mouse, touching his sex to mine."

Both of them glanced at the space between them, how their hard cocks touched each other.

"These can wait," the Lion said as he lifted himself off the Mouse and sat calmly before him. The Mouse sat up, wondering if he should attempt escape once more. "Please, do not run. You speak of experience. I wish to hear your story."

Hesitation bled like a stuck hog.

Finally, the Mouse said, "My story does not matter. It ends as all life ends, I suppose."

"I see," mused the Lion. "Hence your observation regarding our shared aloneness. Let me guess." The Lion placed his chin on a fist, giving a thoughtful, commiserating expression before aiming a rotating finger at the Mouse. "That monstrous thing between your legs had something to do with that?"

The Mouse turned to face away, tail curling around him.

"Aww... no need for shyness. You certainly enjoyed looking at mine several days ago. What is wrong with a little ol' Lion looking at yours?"

"Because this thing"--the Mouse gestured at himself angrily--"has been nothing but trouble."

"The reason why I had caught you the other day, right?" The Lion had himself a good chuckle before he collected himself. "You are correct, you know."

"Correct?"

"These pesky things of ours." He gave the large phallus between his legs a playful jiggle--like a young monkey who had discovered his own tail. "They're trouble. Mine is the reason why I'm all al--" He cut himself short. "Well, let's say it is the reason I am now the reigning king of this jungle, although... I did have to vacate two jaguars the other day who did not respect my presence. But I digress. I suspect your reason is similar, sans the two jabbering jaguars."

"It may very well be!" Then, not wanting to offend the Lion, the Mouse added, "Tell me more."

Further encouragement beyond that was not necessary for the Lion regaled the Mouse with his background growing up in a large, close-knit pride. He was like any of the young cubs back then, learning the ropes from their elders, tussling in the dirt with siblings and cousins, investigating curious insects, or bathing in the mid-afternoon sun. It was the sort of bliss the young of his pride had experienced for generations.

But he grew older and larger. So too did his situation in the worst of ways. Ignorance and naivete could no longer foster the mirage of bliss that had fueled his youth. Now he had come upon the realm of adult things, a new world of responsibility and expectation... and of bestial urges that seemingly came from nowhere--an appetite that water could not slake, that no animal he could eat would quell. It was an urge that had forced itself into this new world. An urge that could not be kept secret.

"What do you mean?" the Mouse wondered. An inkling promised he already knew what the Lion was implying. But he wanted it made clear. No misinterpretations. No misunderstandings.

The Lion continued.

He spoke of a dear cousin of his, a rowdy, rambunctious male who had built quite the notoriety as the pride's lovable rapscallion. He and the Lion were close since birth. Tied at the tail, their mothers would later observe. Always they were exploring the world together or engaging in a playful scrap. If one was rough, the other was tumble. Rare were the days they failed to tucker each other out by evening's last light, later falling asleep together as if brothers.

Adolescence became the rude awakening, however. Both cubs were big now. Ready to take on adult roles around the pride. But the Lion felt unprepared and unready. He desired the care-free days of his youth and ignored the guidance of his elders. Instead, he chose to instigate another scuffle with his cousin. As always, the two adolescent lions laughed without care as they fought and kicked up dirt in the afternoon sunlight. Lazy lionesses nearby simply rolled their eyes and bathed their young. But as the two fought, his cousin managed to pin him. He remembered the feeling of his cousin's developing muscles--how dense they had become. How they overpowered him. He remembered his cousin's handsome smirk from winning, and how it faded from his face just as quickly.

"Such a foul, hurtful look--his disgust." Despondency clung like prickly burrs to the Lion as he spoke. "He had realized something was wrong."

The Mouse was tempted to offer an understanding paw. "Your excitement got the better of you," he offered instead.

"It certainly did." The Lion took in a breath. "But you had requested to hear more, so here it is. My cock grew harder than an elephant's tusk... and probably just as big. And when my cousin saw what was jabbing him, he was horrified and took off. Rumors later spread that I was some tail-raiser. A couple lionesses claimed they witnessed my forcing myself onto my cousin, another male, no less! Crazy how one warps reality! A play-fight now something salaciously abhorrent! How could anyone assume any one of us would stoop to something like that? But that did not matter. My cousin fed their worst fears, and they believed him. That is what a pride requires, after all. Order must be maintained. Troublemakers must be ousted." The Lion's face twisted into a snarl. "Chase him off! Shout how he is no longer wanted! Demand he make haste to another pride!"

"But you never found another pride," the Mouse said. "You chose to blaze your own path."

Then, in unison: "It is safer that way."

They exchanged sympathetic glances. Each knew the other's pain.

The Lion continued, "It is true, then. You have a similar story to tell."

"I do," the Mouse said, settling into his seat upon the grass. Hearing the Lion's story, the urge to flee had dissipated like morning mist. The Lion, at the moment at least, was not a threat. The Mouse began: "I belonged to a large mischief. We would coordinate our efforts securing food and shelter, rearing children, and ensuring our livelihoods in a world brimming with danger. We cared for each other. The future of our nest depended on it.

"But as I grew, those closest to me began courting other young mice, forming bonds, and eventually copulated and birthed their own broods. Friends eventually introduced me to available females, as it was time that I form my own family--contribute to the group's numbers. Keep us strong. But..."

The long pause summoned a quip from the Lion. "Don't be a scaredy-cat."

The Mouse flicked his tail impatiently. "I could not mate with them let alone suffer the intricacies of neither courtship nor conversation! None of them..."

"Appealed to you," the Lion finished, undeterred by this outburst.

The Mouse let out a breath. "No, they did not. But my family grew more impatient. By the stars in the sky, I was getting impatient having to withstand their wearisome exhortations! I did not want what they wanted for me... yet, I could not tell them the reason. Like that mattered in the end. They discovered that very reason soon enough."

"I am intrigued," the Lion said, his tail gliding languorously back and forth. "Continue, please."

"We had a popular mouse amongst our mischief. Built like a rat, he was so big. Good-looking, too. The scar he had earned fighting off a mongoose only made him look all the more attractive, all the more seasoned in our survival. I remember catching him alone one evening, when I was out wandering with my thoughts, watching the stars flicker to life. I remember wondering if those tiny lights were mice as well, scampering along the darkening hills of the sky into infinity.

"I cherished those moments of solitude despite everyone whispering about this strange behavior. The elders warned, after all, how we must stick together to survive. But noise follows mice like our tails. Too much gossip and idle chatter. Silence and solitude were my preference. And when the most popular, most good-looking mouse in our group walked by, completely unaware of my presence... well, I..."

"You made like a peeping tomcat?"

The Mouse raised an eyebrow. "Peeping tomcat?"

"Oh just a saying my people have," the Lion explained, bemused. "When you find yourself watching someone in secret, the way you were watching me only a few days prior?"

"Yes." The Mouse blushed, hoping the heat in his face went undetected beneath the fur. But the Lion had told his story, and it only felt fair... and beneficial to offer his candidness as well. "Admittedly, my behavior has not changed, regardless of the consequences I have already endured. As you deduced, I was peeping on him. Watching him relax. Watching him fondle and pleasure himself. My eyes could not pull away. Quickly, he became hard and very erect... and my only choice at the time was to reciprocate. I watched him..." The Mouse paused, embarrassed. "I watched him masturbate. He was big and muscular, and it drove wild this impulse inside me to mate. To mate with him--not some female introduced to me for the mere sake of procreation."

"Aha... something tells me you couldn't help yourself. You joined in."

The Mouse's face fell into his paws. "Yes. I pleasured my body as he pleasured his. I did this quietly as any mouse could be, when a pressing moment such as this requires it. But I was imagining all sorts of lascivious things. What I would do to him if only he would let me. The way he grunted as he pleasured himself--I wanted to be the cause of that. And when he shuddered, when he released all that warmth from inside, when I saw how he splattered himself with so much white seed..."

The Lion fanned himself with a big paw. "The lewd detail work of your story deserves applause, young Mouse. But I suspect a sad ending sits neatly around the corner."

The Mouse smiled. A soft smile--the kind that one can only offer when their whole life has been upended like a raffia basket, its contents scattering like seeds. "I could not muffle the intensity of my orgasm. He heard me--and caught me. Threatened to feed me to a viper when he realized what I had done. Thankfully, in-fighting amongst us mice is forbidden. Bad enough we get picked off by raptors and reptiles, jackals and even some indiscriminating humans back east. Instead of feeding me to a snake, he did something far worse. He told my family and friends, and their realization came as swift as their judgment. I was something... abnormal. A danger they could neither help nor ameliorate. A _thing _that..."

"No longer belonged," the Lion finished. Standing up, he opened his arms, inviting an embrace. "Come here, Mouse."

Their shared suffering must have done something then, for the Mouse did what no prey animal would ever have done.

Willingly, he approached to return the gesture. Sank into the Lion's warmth, into sun-touched fur that smelled earthy and rich. Felt for the first time the dense musculature of another male--how it flexed and tensed and emanated heat. The Mouse had buried his head into the Lion's chest, and when he looked up to gaze upon him did he realize the Lion's intimidating size.

Awareness of their dynamic crept into the forefront of the Mouse's mind. He was embracing the body of a predator. One that promised an explosive chase if the Mouse were to run. And it was then perhaps the Mouse knew he should have, for then the Lion said, "Interesting how you mention birds of prey and scaley things, lowly dogs and those almost hairless humans... yet you fail to mention the most dangerous thing before you."

When the Mouse looked back up with a gulp, all he could see were massive teeth fully bared. "But... but..."

A tense moment passed between them. Then the Lion's expression changed, as if realizing something important.

"That sounded awful!" The bared teeth was not a threat, but a toothy grin as made evident when the Lion chuckled deeply. "I was not speaking of us lions! I was referring to this." A mighty paw directed the Mouse's gaze to the opposite direction, to the Mouse's own plump malehood, hanging heavily from his waist.

"You mean..."

"How about it, Mouse? Already our families and friends have rejected us. Why not add to their dismay and lay with a predator?"

"You mean not to eat me?" The Mouse asked, still unsure, although his rapidly growing cock understood otherwise. The thought of taking such a mighty Lion. How could he pass this opportunity?

A coy, leonine grin said it all. "I was thinking quite the opposite."

The Lion looked to and fro. No pesky lions or mice from their respective groups to come and stop them. No other animals grazing nearby. No one around to chance an interruption. Satisfied, the Lion crouched on all fours and raised his tail, revealing a beautifully pink hole clenching for attention.

Though taken aback to the point the Lion had to cajole him, the Mouse could not ignore the eagerness churning inside. He was already hard and dripping with arousal. Did any further hesitation protect him? A hungry Lion does not prostrate himself like this, waiting to be taken, after all!

Despite the two heavy testicles hanging between the Lion's legs, the Mouse could still make out his growing excitement. Longer and thicker the Lion grew, his desire so obvious, so evident, this allayed the Mouse's instincts--survival fears stemming the taboo urge neither could no longer ignore.

Kneeling, the Mouse buried his face into the Lion's fine rump so he could lick with such longing the sensitive flesh there. Sinking deeper, he could feel the ring of muscle tense and relax around his tongue. Grasping the base of the Lion's tail allowed him to work deeper. Whiskers tickled from the sensation of the Lion's backside as the Mouse pressed further, sucking and licking until the tail-hole was so wet it dripped with saliva.

Meanwhile, a paw slipped along the contours of his own sex, now fully hard and dripping with arousal. Never had he felt such lust, even as voyeur to the popular mouse back home. Rimming the Lion was such an intimate affair; evoking such concupiscent tension as the Lion arched his back and hissed with pleasure--it was more than the Mouse could have hoped to experience.

And what of the Lion? He was enthralled--and glad the poor Mouse had not scampered off in fear. The Lion understood their roles in the world. Predator and prey. Nature's oldest and truest tradition. A dichotomy as persistent as the revolving circle of life and death. Noting that, such relationships were still open to nuance, as evident when the Lion peered back between his legs, past his own beastly member to where the Mouse's huge cock stood erect, hungry for his virginity.

"Come on, Mouse," the Lion urged, desiring more than tongue despite the wonderful sensations it brought. "Show me what a rodent can do to a lonely little feline."

The Lion almost regretted this playful nudge. While the Mouse was decent enough to plaster his hungering hole with plenty of pre, even inserting a finger at first to help loosen him up, once the fat glans began pushing its way in, the Lion nearly roared from the discomfort. A breath escaped him.

"Slowly," he snarled. "First-timer here!"

"That makes both of us," the Mouse managed through gritted teeth, lust and pleasure forcing his hips forward until the ring of muscle swallowed up the entire head of his cock.

The Lion tossed his head back. Announced an unknown curse--probably some dialect known only to the big cats. But the Mouse could hardly concentrate on such words despite his ears--large and round, designed for noticing the utterances of predators.

Perhaps it was the heart galloping in his chest or the haze masking his mind. He was finally inside the Lion, and the sensation of wet tightness around his glans felt amazing, almost overwhelming. Bravery and lust seized him, and the Mouse gave the Lion's firm rump a lighthearted slap of encouragement. Squeezed both cheeks as he slipped inside deeper. Pulling back whenever he felt resistance, he drove his cock further and further, a little more with each thrust. Sometimes he would pull out completely to marvel at the gaping hole. But hunger for that tight feeling kept such respites short.

Meanwhile, the Lion made such pleasure-noises, mewls and groans that imbued the Mouse with confidence. There was some pain, yes. The girth of that cock stretched him wide... and the length prodded him this way and that. Pleasure, however, promised that his persistence would make such discomforts worth it.

Through clenched teeth, the Lion pushed the well-endowed Mouse to thrust harder, to push deeper.

And he obliged.

The Mouse never understood the extent of his size until he faced the task of prising a much larger animal with his malehood. In and out, in and out he went. Almost as mindless as each deepening breath. Heavy balls swung back and father as he worked until, finally, they began pummeling the mounds of the Lion's backside with an incessant smack! smack! smack!

The Lion growled his approval, claws digging into the earth.

The Mouse did not relent, paws clutching the Lion tight at his sides.

Both animals moaned loudly and freely, exhaling whimpers of pleasure or growls of lust, and neither cared if all the jungle critters heard, if even one of their own kind had to witness such an unnatural union--of something neither mischief nor pride.

Long moments passed by a languid walk, but the Lion managed to still the Mouse through panting breaths. "Slow down, slow down... I want to watch something besides these tufts of grass."

Flipping onto his back, the Lion felt the huge thing inside him slip out. The Mouse took this moment to adjust his body, his fully engorged erection bobbing along until it settled at its handsome angle pointing towards the sky. Such a virile thing.

The Lion's cock had draped itself across his muscular torso, completely hard as well. Pre-seminal fluid welled at the tip, dabbing his fur with its stickiness. With a finger, he smeared pre down the length of his cock before grasping the base of it, aiming himself at the Mouse.

"Like how I look?" he asked.

"You'd look better with a certain something you."

The Mouse grinned as he wriggled closer, pushing the Lion's legs back and his rump up. Aligned his cock with the tail-hole that clenched with anticipation. Both grunted as he slipped back inside in one smooth motion.

The Mouse noticed how the Lion's cock twitched with approval. He said, "I want to see the mess that massive thing can make."

"Guess you better earn that right," the Lion said, trying to look unimpressed. "Orgasms are a luxury, after all."

The thought of earning such a luxury provoked a whip of the Mouse's tail, while the Lion's arced gracefully through the grass. A few testing thrusts made the Lion's whiskers quiver and his body shudder. The Mouse sank deeper and deeper, their bodies colliding and straining against the earth until the Lion was a mumbling mess.

Time slipped away.

Neither knew for how long. They became lost to each other's warmth, their sounds, the scent of fur and sex under the shade of the closest tree. The Mouse watched eagerly as the Lion pleasured himself, the free paw clawing trenches into the soil. Then came the moment when the thrusts became rigid and deliberate, when out fluttered a saliva-touched warning of the Mouse's impending orgasm.

The building sensations almost drew his eyes shut so that he would ride such ecstasy in darkness. Desire to watch the Lion's girthy cock expel its hot, white seed, however, persisted. The Mouse dared not miss this opportunity.

A jungle-rattling roar nearly startled them both. Blurry paw strokes made quick work of the Lion's cock. A cursory shot released. Something white and warm that promised more.

The Lion tensed.

Powerful contractions overwhelmed him. Thick streams as long as the ropes that had trapped him not long ago arrived in rapid bursts. The bulbous glans shot and shot and shot. It got everywhere. Most on the Lion's chest, but a liberal spray had inundated both face and mane. The rest covered his torso before dribbling out generously over the paw still gripping his spent sex.

The sight of this was too much. One final, ball-slapping shove unleashed everything the Mouse had in him. Heavy, uncontrollable spurts the Mouse could feel with each contraction gushed through the Lion innards.

The Mouse grunted, pronounced incisors biting at his lower lip. Winded and woozy, he swore he saw those same stars at night dancing across his vision.

White seed leaked from the Lion's gaping hole once the Mouse pulled out, coating the green below.

The Mouse fell beside the Lion, both breathing as if fresh from a chase. They watched the sky together until their breaths slowed, a few wisps of clouds strewn across the blue. Sounds of the jungle behind them bathed their afterglow. A gentle breeze parted their fur. Neither animal knew such tranquility could exist alongside the other.

The Mouse finally propped himself onto an elbow.

"Is... this the part where you eat me?" he asked, his previous worry returning. "Now that we're done?"

"On the contrary," the Lion responded without threat. "Not eating you when I had the chance taught me an important lesson or two. I have not forgotten about the hunters. You saved my hide, and for that, I owe you my life." He raised his eyebrows suggestively, a twinkle in his eye and a flirtatious shimmy to his rump. "And that is a debt I am willing to pay for the rest of mine."

They shared a laugh and few moments discussing their future together--one that looked warmer at that.

Once their energy returned, they ventured to the nearby watering hole to bathe themselves. Animals from various niches on the food web took note of the king of beasts sauntering from his jungle. Most kept their distance. Some raised a brow or flicked a tail curiously when they noticed a lone rodent beside him--nearly the lowest of them, just above the insects.

Neither the Lion nor Mouse paid any heed. All they knew was that a kindness, though rare as it was when it came to predator and a prey, was not wasted at all this day.