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Shekh wiped the warm, sticky wetness against the point of his nose, resisting the immediate reflex to flick his tongue up and lap it right back off. Rich, hot odor of bodily musk spread through his senses, tickling at the back of his throat, fueling the flame simmering in his loins; the striped hyena rumbled in his throat, swallowed, and stretched out where he lay, legs spread with his footpaws shoved beneath the blankets, one paw draped lightly around the base of his twitching arousal while the other still touched and wiped there at his muzzle.

With his eyes closed it wasn't hard at all to slip back a bit in memory, and to swap his own scent smeared there, still dribbling down along his thumb, for an entirely new and different one. Add in a touch of coppery metal, a fringe of slight acridity, and then a good helping of that classic wet dog smell, and then suddenly - he was back at Hal's apartment lounging back on the floor, head propped up on a pillow swiped from the couch, staring up at one of the most delicious sights he had ever been witness to.

Rich black velvet meat stretched open around the ghost bat's shaft, wet canine spade tugging out and away from the rest of the dog's body as he drew back, showing thick veined pink coated, slickened, smeared in the gathered sheen of her wetness, a little sigh dribbling out from the Great Dane's parted lips just as these strands of liquid arousal dripped out of _this_end. Shekh's nose twitched frantically with the weight of this scent, so familiar yet so unique all its own. If he drew too deep of it it almost made his eyes water, but still he found himself pressing his elbows back against the edge of the bed on which Camellia lay, lifting up, drawing closer...

Until Hal pulled the rest of the way free with a thick, wet schluck. Loose drops of that clinging slickness flung from the end of his arousal, and the dog's sex jiggled in place with the movement. The surface of that black velvet had darkened with their shared wetness, swollen out to about the same size as the hyena's clenched fist: under the shifting of her panting body it bounced and shivered, soft silken flesh pulsing with her movements, succulent folds parting gently open to show where that black tinted to luscious pink inside. A sharp-taloned hand came down from above, forefinger and thumb held apart, and lovingly squished up around the base of her spade, pushing it up against her body, stretching it from point to base, and then gently coursing in between the centered folds. They parted open with another wet smack and the Dane shuddered again, tossing her head to the other side atop the bed with an oozing sigh of pleasure.

A droplet of warmth hung down and plopped against Shekh's cheek, shifting his attention down away from the moist dark meat. Right here hanging down above his muzzle, so hefty that it bent downward about halfway along its length, Hal held himself with his other hand, thumb pressing back the lip of his white-furred sheath, three fingers stretched forward to keep his shaft angled. Shekh licked his lips, swallowed again, and drew in another breath, this one tainted heavily with the inimitable aroma of canine musk, so thoroughly smeared into the fur around his nose already.

He hadn't actually made contact with Camellia yet. She was Hal's territory; it was Shekh's position to lie here and watch, so much closer than ever before, right within reach yet still so far away. As the bat pounded away at luscious, succulent meat, loose drops of arousal and slickness flung off and spattered his muzzle and tongue; each time he pulled out a few thick ropes of the stuff hung down and broke across his fur; as she wagged her tail in delight it thumped at his neck and shoulder, and he watched the way the pucker of her tail twitched and clenched and pulled and stretched with the movement. It was intoxicating, and tantalizing, and invigorating, and he wanted nothing more than to sit up and see if he could fit that fat spade into his mouth, to curl his tongue up between those wet silken folds and suck the slickness out of her... but he didn't. That was part of the fun of it: watching Hal nearly lose himself in her presence and companionship, listening to both of them murmuring and cooing at each other, watching from aside the sheer depth of pleasure the two gave each other, and him indulging in the awareness; _that_was the fun of it. Shekh shivered and sighed, nostrils flared to draw in her scent again - until a different wet warmth suddenly smacked against his cheek, then again, and again.

Once more his focus adjusted. Bright eyes behind the totem shape of the bat's leaf-nose sparkled down at him, deadly fangs glittering in a sly grin - and Hal hefted his hard cock and tapped it down against Shekh's cheek again, further adding to the slickness matting down his fur there. He shifted, licked his chops, and tilted his head to follow, drawing first his lips along the wet underside and then his nose to follow. Here all of that scent of dog and musk and bat focused and centralized, wrapping together into something powerful and heady, almost overwhelming; he closed his eyes and pursed his lips up against the underside of Hal's head, tongue flicking out just enough to feel the coating of warmth completely encasing him.

When his tongue drew back into his maw he tasted both of them. He shivered with the recognition, rolled the stickiness around in his mouth, then lapped at the bat's length again, and again, and again, now turning his muzzle up and to the side, now deliberately tilting this way so that his nose brushed along his tip. Then he lifted up and back, felt the sheer simmering heat of Camellia's spade so close to the back of his head, parted his lips, held his tongue out to hoist Hal atop it...

...and then back in the present, back in his own bed, Shekh gasped, squirmed, bucked into the air, and then nearly doubled in over himself as the peak of his pleasure arced through him. The very same had happened to him back at Hal's apartment, bearing that warm heft further back along his tongue, filling his throat with the thick warmth of Camellia's wetness and musk, cleaning all of it off of the bat's length just so Hal could bury himself deep inside of her again... panting, shivering, panting his belly and chest in a third, a fourth, a fifth thick spurt, those memories swam behind the hyena's eyes wrenched shut. Even after he had gone home and brushed his teeth he had still been able to taste that wet dog smell on his breath, layered with the bat's scent and taste as well.

Finally he flumped back against the pillow, paw loosening around his still hard shaft, chest heaving in steady panting. That made three times today, and three times he had only made it to the point in the memory where he had taken Hal into the back of his throat - which was, to say, just over halfway along his full length.

Maybe next time he'd start at that point. After all of that, after dutifully replacing the slimy slickness coating Hal's shaft with his own saliva instead, making sure to dig down into his sheath and polish his balls as well, the bat had grinned again, hoisted himself up, and plunged right back into the Dane, this time going fast and hard - and nearly bruising Shekh's cheek and chin with those balls as well. Within minutes Hal's breath had tightened and he gasped, and Shekh's ears flicked to the sound of a hungry wet kiss with Camellia, and then he had watched as the base of the bat's shaft and sheath pulsed with the volume and force of the load pounding out of him and deep into the dog's spade.

And then he had pulled out so that the last few spurts squirted out across Shekh's muzzle...

The hyena shifted where he lay and slipped his paw away, drifting in that hazy warmth of pleasure. Twenty minutes, he thought, and then I guess I'll go for a fourth...