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"See? Look at that. Told you."

Kit nodded and swallowed, eyes held rather forcefully in place; he couldn't look away even if he had wanted to, and he was _far_from that. All of this chat and discussion over the past few weeks, strung through with teasing of growing intensity, finally leading to Shekh showing up now, getting him in this position, and then stripping himself naked to straddle the tiger's chest. Humid heat simmered down through Kit's fur, keeping him sharply aware of Shekh's sack resting across his him; he swallowed again, tilted his head, and looked over the dense yet loose wrinkles curling over one another there, the shapes of his balls shifting slowly within their confinement in the changing heat of the room and the body underneath him; then on top of that, resting out at a slight angle - the hyena leaned a bit to the left, it looked like - was his half-hard shaft, forward across his sack, head similarly resting against Kit's chest.

With another good two inches, at least, of wrinkled, supple foreskin hanging over the end, draped loose and limp over itself ahead of where his head nestled against the tiger's chest.

"Uh," Kit replied, "yeah. Don't have to tell _me_twice..."

The hyena grinned. "Longest y'ever seen, right?" He shifted himself, leaned back, pushed his hips forward - the movement caused the underside of this overhang to curl back, just slightly - then reached down to hoist his cock up into the air, pinching at the skin with a forefinger and thumb. Those wrinkles stretched and smoothed out in response to the weight hanging down underneath, and in another movement he slid his paw down and then back up, curling and wrinkling the musk-damp surfaces into a lumpy, wrinkly mass in between his fingers. "Distracts me sometimes. Gets caught between my belly and my pants when I'm out at the store or something, and I can feel it tugging and pulling every time I take a step. Or I go to piss and finish up, only to late figure out I've got some whole-ass dribbles caught down in there... you know how it is."

He didn't, in fact. Shekh scooted back a little bit further, then further still, until he slid back in between Kit's spread legs - and rested his floppy, sloppy overhang right down across the slick black flesh of the tiger's plump canine sex, his succulent spade swollen with arousal. The worst that Kit got was surprise dampness seeping through his underwear or, worse, pressing a wet stamp in the precise shape of his spade through his pants. He shivered at a slight tickle from the hyena's paw along his sensitive flesh, lifted himself up a bit to look closer... and then couldn't help but grind upwards as Shekh tapped his half-hard length down against the point of his sex, firmer shaft and head bumping against him first, loose overhang smacking a moment later like a slightly wet, limp tongue.

"Now if I could... just..."

Back and forth Shekh worked himself, running his shaft around the base of Kit's spade, slipping it along the folds of flesh and warmth, smearing his own slick skin back and forth. His hips gently thrust as he did so, foreskin remaining in place where he held it while his steadily stiffening shaft shifted inside, filling the skin around it and then sliding smoothly back again; it was intoxicating to watch, inviting, enticing, and a _little_bit grotesque.

But then, so was everything about sex. Kit licked his lips, entranced; with one thumb along the back Shekh pressed himself down against the feline's spade, smearing himself in Kit's slickness, working both of them up further. Kit lifted up against him again, wanting him inside of him, wanting to feel all of those wrinkles spreading against his inner walls and slurping back and forth - but Shekh instead lifted up and, now fully hard, let himself hang there in the air for a moment.

And still his puckered overhang drooped a good half-inch or so away from the end of his head, glistening with wetness both his own and Kit's. Panting softly the hyena grinned down at him, pinched the overlapping skin and tugged again, and then finally slid his paw to roll it back. Slowly, gradually along his shaft, starting at the rim of his head and pushing back from there; then further still; and further, until his paw pressed into his pubic fur... and then he had to do so again, starting from the rim of his head and going back, and only then did the thick wrinkles curl back to show the luscious pink of his bared head underneath.

It took two full strokes, tip to base, to fully retract everything he had there - and even so as he lifted his paws away, one going to his muzzle to take a whiff of his scent mixed with Kit's, the sheer amount of overlapping folds pushed the rim of his foreskin forward over the back of his head again, encroaching slowly. Seeing it made Kit shiver again; he so, so_wanted to bring Shekh back up across his chest, to have the hyena slop and slap that loose skin across his nose, for him to smear it over his fur so that it left stains. He wanted to see how far back along his tongue he could pull the wrinkly flesh and even wondered - _I bet when he's fully soft, seeing how much he has, that I could literally swallow some of it...

But Shekh had another idea. The hyena lifted up and back, rolled his skin forward again, then with a thumb pressed himself down in between the supple, succulent folds of Kit's spade. The firmness of his head pressed in first, with the loose lip of his overhang flopping down a moment later - and then he sank steadily inwards, sweet and slow. One of Kit's legs shook with pleasure: he couldn't quite feel the thick folds of loose skin shifting and pulling, but still imagined he could, and it was that idea that kept him squirming and gasping as the hyena settled into a rhythm. The faster Shekh went, the more Kit tightened around him, until at one point he thought he actually could feel the way his foreskin remained in place within his walls, with the hyena's hard cock thrusting in and out within both the wrapping of skin as well as the inner walls of the tiger's spade, like a sleeve within a sleeve.

One paw against his chest, one near his head, Shekh continued thrusting, and Kit squeezed up and around him, loving the way his spade squished against the hyena's loins, the slight suction pull of wet flesh on slick fur, the sloppy, noisy slurps and squelches of rich wet meat. Shekh's pace increased both in pace and intensity, and before long he had doubled fully over the tiger, fingers gripping into his fur, teeth gritted - and then he gasped, pulled back just slightly, jerked, jerked again, then bucked again... and slowly, carefully pulled back out of him. Kit squirmed again.

"Oh," the hyena rumbled, looking down. Kit lifted his head. "See? Told you we wouldn't need a condom. Barely any got into you. The rest-" And he flopped his still-hard shaft out against the tiger's belly, with the impact of it bouncing through his slightly-ballooned foreskin - and dumping out the thick ooze of most of his load, caught there within the extra volume. "-is all in here. That happens sometimes. Comes in handy when I want to..." He rolled all the way back again, two full strokes just like before. More slick wetness dribbled out. "...you know. Take care of myself, when I've got nowhere to hide the evidence. Plot twist: I always have somewhere."

With a wet slurp Shekh rolled all the way forward again, then tugged at the rim of his foreskin to pull it just that little bit further. He tapped it against the panting tiger's belly again. "So," he went on, "got a straw on hand? Wanna see if you can suck it out?"