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Standard disclaimer:

This is a furry adult story containing gay males in sexual situations as well as explicit language and descriptions. No kids are allowed so this story is only for those who are 18/21 or whatever the age is at your legislation. If you are not of the legal age, you shouldn't view this story because you might lose your innocence. Also, by browsing this story you have done so by your own consent and wish to view such material. if you do not wish to view such material you should leave this site immediately.

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Hello, all!

I found myself wanting to write a Wild West story, but my idea about some cowboys didn't go anywhere. Instead, I present you with this story. I hope it delivers.

If you like the story, why not to take a moment to fav, comment or vote?

It will help me to become a better writer.

Thank you everyone, have a good new year!

Happy readings ;)

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"Sir! Sir!" the fox yelled excitedly as he ran up the stairs to the station master's tower.

A bespectacled coyote lifted his gaze from the newspaper he had been reading for a while now. Blue eyes peered over the folded edge of the paper at the fox now standing in front of him. The young red fox's tail swung rapidly from side to side as he tried to catch his breath.

"Aye, Webb?" the coyote spoke in a perhaps slightly more than necessarily gruff voice.

"Got a telegram for you from the town, sir!" the young station assistant spoke seriously, his ears flicking as he displayed the slip of paper clutched tightly in his hand.

The coyote snuffled and put his paper down on his small desk.

"Well, bring it over, quick now!" he told the fox.

Webb approached his master cautiously and placed the folded note down to the table next to the coyote's tin cup and saucer, now empty after his evening coffee had been consumed with much pleasure. An oil lamp burned and cast a soft light into the small room. It provided a comfortable glow for the coyote's weary eyes.

The coyote nodded curtly and picked up the paper from its position on the table and held it up close to the lamp with his both paws, squinting as he forced his nearsighted eyes into action again. It was a shame to have such a vision at a tender age of 35, but at least he could still see far and wide. It was the close and tiny that caused the problems, after all, Argyle knew.

The message was paw-scrawled on the slip of paper by the familiar writing of the local telegraph operator in the town a couple of minutes' walk away from the train station. It didn't take too much effort for Argyle to read the note, for it was only a few words in length.

_ DEVIL BROW 19:50 EARLY BY 20. STOP. _

Argyle flicked an ear as he read the message through again before he put the paper down and dug his jacket pocket for his watch. The railroad company issue watch gleamed in the lamp light as he pulled the chained pocket watch out and held it up to read the time. It was 19:20, which meant that the 19:50 train coming from Devil's Eyebrow was about to arrive in ten minutes instead of the half an hour as indicated by the nominal timetable. That meant that the train was early, an that, too, held implications.

Argyle chuckled and replaced his precious watch inside his pocket.

"Looks like Sparrows is really working it today as always," he smirked.

"Sparrows, sir?" the fox asked, eyes wide and curious as he stared at the seated coyote.

"They are running twenty minutes ahead of schedule, Webb," Argyle snuffled at his young charge, "that means that Sparrows is really throwing the wood into the boiler. They must be running near the pressure limits!"

The young fox blinked and scratched the back of his head. Argyle smirked at the puzzled sight.

"It means that they're stopping twenty minutes early, Webb," he snorted, getting up from his swivel chair. "We have to start getting things ready now early then."

The fox seemed to almost jump to attention there, his ears flicking and his tail falling down, rigid and tense.

"Yessir!" he exclaimed with a boyish squeak.

"You run down the road and go and put the red light up, "Argyle commanded his charge as he walked around the desk and over to the bank of levers that stood next to the windows overlooking the track itself.

"Yessir!"

"I will put up the lights here and turn the track, and then, when you come back, you'll help the fireman with the water crane, alright?" Argyle demanded.

"Yessir! I do remember, sir!"

The coyote grinned and mussed the eager fox's headfurs as he walked past the excited young creature.

"I know, but you are known to have a head like a sieve, Webb!" Argyly grinned. "Run now, you, sonny! The trains don't wait!"

"Oh, yessir, yes, yessir!" the fox yelped and the next sound he made was the slam of the door and the creaking of the stairs as he the lithe boy hobbled down along them.

Argyle shook his head at the boy's antics and was glad that he hadn't broken the window at the flimsy door. He stood at the series of levers for a moment and then chose the right ones that would allow the incoming train to drive over to the station track for resupplying their tender with water that the locomotive required to operate properly. His eyes peered into the darkness outside and spotted the green light burning ahead half a mile away along the desolate, straight track. Not a single object was visible in the moonlight lighting the prairie with a ghostly glow, nothing besides the signal post up along the perfectly straight track. It was an empty, silent track of the railroad running over this section. The only life in town came from the train that stopped twice a week to resupply with water it needed to cross to the next stop, and this was the only water supply post in the next almost 100 miles.

Argyle flicked his pocket watch out again and checked the time. It was five to half past seven now in the evening, and there was only so much time left before the train would arrive and make its half-an hour stop at the Dog's Heel. The coyote checked the positions of his levers and found them agreeable. His next task was to pick up the large oil lantern from its position hanging on a hook near the door. Argyle removed the heavy iron object and lifted it down so that he could fit the red pane of glass over the window of the lamp so that he could use it this time to give the stop signal for the approaching train. A ghostly red glow filled the station master's office once Argyle had the light lit up.

The coyote walked down the wooden stairs calmly, holding the lamp up while listening for the telltale sound of an approaching train. He knew that it ran without a light so as not to disturb the night vision of the driver, so a sound would be the only signal as to a train coming down the track. Since it was already late in the evening, the train would not blow it whistle upon arrival, so now all there was to the wait was to simply stand there on the small, wooden station platform and wave the lamp up.

The uniformed male paced down the length of the platform a couple of times to stretch his legs after the long time sitting, and then peered out into the darkness again. He could not really see that much, not with the red light shining, but what was more important was the sound slowly rising from the distance. He also felt it, since the planks on the platform were now slowly vibrating under his boots. Argyle knew that the feeling would have been even more intense should he have been standing on the track itself, but he needn't that signal to know that the fast-running rain train was about to come over in a moment.

The first thing coming was the fox boy, Webb, though. He arrived to the platform, panting and almost doubling over when he finally stopped. The youth held his paws over his chest as he tried to catch his breath, and Argyle couldn't help but smile at the sight again.

"All set, Webb?"

"Yessir," the fox huffed between gulps of breath. "The signal is up!"

"Good boy," Argyle smiled for the youth. "You deserve your sleep once they're gone past. Now, go to the water tower and prepare the crane."

"Yessir! Right...away...," Webb breathed.

Argyle's ears perked now as he began to hear the clatter of the approaching train. It must have been close, and judging by the time even without glancing to his clock, the coyote was sure that if the train really was running as fast as it was now rumoured to be.

The train finally appeared from the darkness as a mass of uneven light, cast from the dim lamps in the passenger carriages. Argyle could watch it for a couple of minutes more before the black and green locomotive passed him with majestic slowness, spewing steam from her boiler in long, hissing steams all along the skirt of the soon to be motionless train. Lights gleamed both on the platform and the carriages. Argyle watched the train settle and spotted a number of faces peering at him through the windows of the carriages. Eyes, noses pressed to the glass.

As soon as the train had come to a full stop, doors clattered open all along the length of the train now stopped on the platform, and a mass of furs escaped the combines of the box on tracks they had been stuffed for many hours now. Argyle snuffled as the frocked ladies and gentlemen in their top hats and fine jackets flocked out of the carriage with similar eagerness to those of lesser status who too were making a hasty exit from their vehicle. Everyone was heading down the platform and towards their shared destination - the row of outhouses standing only a few yards away from the station building itself. Argyle did not like travelling on the train himself too much, and one of the reasons was the lack of facilities for relieving one's self. These poor furs must have been bursting for hours!

Once he had seen that the train emptied without trouble, Argyle could walk down the few steps on the end of the platform, and enter the darkness beyond. As he walked, he put out the lantern for it was no longer needed, and now simply carried along to his side. He was heading towards the locomotive and its tender holding the firewood, now parked on the other end of the station complex. The water tower stood as a dark mass there, visible only as a dark shadow against the backdrop of the moonlight heavens. A thick crane holding the water pipe was currently being extended by the force of a pulley and a wheel operated by the puffing fox standing at the base of the tower. Argyle only saw the gleam from the young fox's eyes, but he could not hear the what he knew to be a stream of rough curses that always slipped from his young charge's muzzle whenever he had to do this hard and laborious task. No, the locomotive was still making a lot of hissing noises and making it difficult to even think, and the coyote's eyes were all flat as he walked along the length of the dark metal beast now standing motionless next to him.

Argyle made his way along to the level of the cabin and smiled as he saw the familiar shape of the burly bear who was Sparrows, the fireman for the train. He appeared as a flash of brown in a beam of light coming from the furnace of the train that soon disappeared once he had shovelled in another load of firewood before the doors were closed. The coyote forego attempts to communicate for a few moments more as he waited for the pressure valves to be closed. He only yelled up once the loud hissing and whistling came to an end.

"Ahoy, ahoy!" the station chief yelped.

"That you, Johnny?"

A large ursine head appeared to the doorway of the cabin and peered down at the diminutive coyote standing next to the train. Argyle smiled.

"That's me alright, Sparrows! Why, you're fast tonight!"

"Good trade winds!" the voice of the big bear answered with a laughing ring to it.

"And so much speed that we even got a telegram from Devil's Eyebrow saying that you were running ahead of schedule!" Argyle snickered in his rough, drawling voice.

"See! We'll soon be on the papers for making the faster run on this track!" the bear's voice boasted from the dark confines of the cabin.

The screeching noise coming from the hoisting contraption came to an end once Webb finished moving the crane up to its position, and next up the boy called for the train to stand ready for the water.

"Why don't you take over, Sparrows?" another voice spoke from within the cabin. "I have some other business to attend to with station master."

Argyle smiled at the sound of the low-pitched voice and flicked his tail with delight at hearing the familiar tone again. As he looked up, another shape appeared in the darkness, squeezing itself next to the larger form of the bear, and he saw the glint of eyes watching down.

"Yes, Gordon, you robbed be raw last time you came over, I think it's time for some payback!" the station master shouted up to the train.

"Well, it's not my fault that you spend all your pay on playing poker with passing drivers!" the second voice laughed.

"Especially you, Gordon! You must have a double wage, adding up all you get from me!" the coyote smirked.

"Got any to spare for me, boss?" the bear chuckled from somewhere inside the tender of the locomotive where he was preparing their water tank to receive the flow from the water crane.

The voice spoke again now with a mild sense of authority behind it.

"You just keep the fire burning so that we really have a chance for doing the record run, eh?" the voice said, half-joking, half-serious by the sound of it.

Argyle flicked his ear and smiled again.

"Once you come down as celebrated figures from Chicago, I'll try to turn the tables for me with you too, Sparrows!" the coyote called up.

"Yeah, whatever!" came the resounding reply.

A whooping sound filled Argyle's ears, and he almost jumped as someone landed straight in front of him. The other speaker had just leaped from the train and made a smooth landing only three feet away from the coyote. The crouching form stood up, making Argyle's whiskers shake as he felt the movement in air. His eyes were again starting to get used to the darkness, and he saw the general, and yes, familiar shape of the driver of the train who had been shouting earlier on.

"G'evning, Johnny," the purring voice of a cougar spoke, now only those few feet away from the coyote.

Argyle smiled and wagged his tail in the darkness.

"Evening, Gordon," the station master tipped his head down in greeting, by habit.

"Got the deck all arranged again like last time, eh?" the cougar grinned back.

"Of course, with all the corners marked with my claw so that I'll recognize them for sure!" the coyote winked.

A sooty paw tapped against the coyote's shoulder firmly, and he felt the breath of the cougar on his face as he crossed the distance between them and walked past him.

"That's the spirit! You might lose your pants for me tonight for that!" the cougar snuffled. "Hey, Sparrow, everything good?"

"All chipper here!" came the rumbled reply.

"You ready to open the vent, sonny?" Argyle yelled for his semi-invisible charge.

"Yessir!"

"Alright, let it run, you two!" Gordon the driver gave his own command, passing over the stationmaster's authority by some degree, but Argyle was hardly annoyed.

It was the cougar's train, after all, and only the coyote's tracks. The one who drove still held the last responsibility for the smooth running of his draconian carriage of fire and steam, and had the final word.

"Let it go, Webb!" Argyle added, though.

"Aye, aye!" came Sparrows's reply from the bowels of the tender.

"Aye, sir!" the fox yelped.

"See you in half an hour, Sparrows!" the cougar yelled and started on his way towards the station building.

"Don't lose all your cents!" the bear grumbled from somewhere beyond.

Argyle gave his last wave for the fox operating the vents and levers before he followed the cougar into the relative brightness of the station platform. It was still mostly empty since the furs were queuing up to the lavatories, but a few gentlemen and other furs were smoking their boredom away. A lady wearing a bustled dress was scorning a young wolverine boy wearing a miniature sailor outfit and waved a rolled-up umbrella in her thick paw. Young wolves wearing breeches and leather caps who could not have been much younger than Webb the fox, were playing around with a spinning top. The planks of the platform seemed to offer the toy a perfect surface to roll on, Argyle observed with a smile as he passed the train and its passengers on his way.

His eyes were mostly on the cougar, though, especially on the swinging tailtip of the tan-furred feline wearing black-stained coveralls. The driver walked along the platform with a sense of familiarity and direction, especially when he disappear under the partition that separated one end of the building from the other. The tower stood on one end, and underneath it was the small storage room for mail and other items sometimes taken on the train during the inwards run. The driver stopped on the other side, though, and stood there waiting as the coyote arrived and entered the darkness of the shade.

"You ready?" the cougar purred from the shadow.

"Ready to lose some, yes," Argyle smirked despite the fact that his expression was likely unseen.

Argyle pushed his paw into his pocket and brought out a key which he fitted into a lock at the door that the cougar was standing next to. The lock clicked and admitted the pair of furs inside to the coolness of the room. Argyle put down the lantern he had been holding all that time and then pushed the door closed behind them.

For a few seconds they stood in the darkness, and the only sound they could hear now was their breathing. The snap of the latch of the lock broke the silence briefly. Argyle turned around in the dark and tried to spy the shape of the cougar, but he was already close.

Breath brushed over his face before paws landed over his shoulder, making light contact with the cloth-covered furs. The cougar purred loudly just before lips pressed over Argyle's in a kiss of passion.

It was a firm, wet kiss that tasted of coffee and beef jerky and cougar, and Argyle could but groan throatily when he felt the tongue slip past his open lips and start rubbing against his own. He was pinned against the door by the slight bulk of the cougar now eagerly kissing him. The paws on his shoulders clutched onto him, pads pressing down against his muscles through the fabric of his dark uniform. Argyle's own paws found purchase from the cougar's sides which he held firmly. He was a lean, stringy creature, he was, this driver called Gordon, and the coyote growled with pleasure as he felt the tension growing in the other male's body.

"Ahh, Mack!" the coyote huffed against the cougar's wet, moist lips while he lapped over them with his broad canine tongue.

"Don't waste ye time speaking, John," Mack replied in a tightly held growl.

The cougar kneaded the coyote's shoulders as he ran his paws down along them and to his arms now, holding onto them while their tongues battle for the control of the kiss. No clear winner was in sight yet, not even when John used his leverage to turn their tables and have his turn at pushing the cougar against the door. It shuddered on its hinges when the feline landed against it, but the intensely kissing pair hardly noticed. Their bodies were ground firmly together while they held onto each other, letting the actions of their paws and tongues speak everything that needed to be said.

"Hope you can afford to lose again, John," Mack hissed, head tilted up as he felt the coyote's teeth scrape against the soft skin of his neck while a trail of wet, lapping kisses were given by the snorting coyote.

"Your time to lose," John growled before he caught the cougar's lips again in a firm kiss.

Mack snuffled and squirmed under the coyote's pinning force, but it only added to their pleasure, for the movement of their bodies pressed right together was more than enough to send extra pressure into their loins pushed right next to another with only the double layers of clothing separating their hard cocks. The cougar pawed all over John's back, feeling him up good while revelling in the canine's scent and warmth radiating from him and especially their kiss. Mack didn't stop until he had his paws firmly set over John's round rump, which he found acutely squeezable.

John murred deep in his throat with approval as he felt those firm paws making lewd movements over his backside. His bushy tail flicked from side to side and brushed against the cougar's eager paws while they kept up the strong caress. John returned it by rubbing his own paws along the cougar's sides. Their clothing seemed even more a hindrance to their play, but neither made a move yet to try and remove any articles of wear from the other or themselves. John was still kissing wetly all over Mack's neck and throat, matting the soft pelts with his saliva. The cougar smelled of male musk and steel and wood and smoke, and the coyote found that a most attractive mixture to wear on one's furs. It was causing his breaths to come as more intense huffs, for the smell filled his nose and made his head swim with desire for the locomotive driver who visited his private chamber way too rarely for both of their liking. Even now they had to be on a schedule, but that was the railway for you.

"Need...ahhh...," Mack groaned, "need light....want to see you..."

Mack's thumbs pressed to John's back at the base of his tail and rubbed there firmly, causing the drooling coyote to rumble deeply. John nipped his neck lightly with his teeth, bringing out a moan from the unsuspecting cougar whose paws pressed even more tightly against John's back. He smiled with pleasure as he brought his paws down to his arms and gave them a tug.

"Just wait and see," the coyote snuffled and removed the horny cougar's paws from his person long enough so that he could walk over to the small table.

John spread his paws and felt out the surface for the tin of matches that was always there as needed. After a brief bout of fumbling, he located the tin and flicked it open with a helpful claw. He struck the match against the rough surface of the table and a flash of light and a hiss signalled the fire catching onto the tiny stick. He did not waste time in setting the flame onto the oil lamp sitting on the table, which he then turned so that it would provide the best light for the room.

John blew the match out and tossed it down to the table before he turned out and found himself face to face with the cougar again. His sooty paws were unbuttoning the front of his coveralls slowly. His long tail swung behind him slowly, and a grin was spread over his face.

"Go on, wotcha waiting for?" Mack snuffled, flicking an ear at the coyote.

"I'm starting to suspect that you told Sparrows to stoke the fire extra hard so that you would be here so much earlier," John spoke with a grin of his own as he put his cap down to the table and began to unbutton his jacket.

Mack snickered.

"He's got a girl down in Seesaw Junction, that's why he's so eager to make he run early so that we don't have to get up so soon to heat up the boiler for the morning run!" the cougar detailed.

His paws now flicked out the shoulder straps that now fell over the feline's back. Mack bent over briefly to remove his large, oversized leather boots before he used his paws to pull down the coveralls from himself. John's smirk only widened as he found that as usual, the cougar was not wearing any undergarments with his work clothing. What he saw revealed was the stringy, lithe body of the driver, with tan and creamy white furs all over, except for the slim, pointed length of pinkness standing up from his loins. The light even caught on it, for his hardness was covered in slick fluids that ran down slowly along the pulsing, proud cock. It was adorned with numerous fleshy barbs that John had often enjoyed running over his pawpads, or his tongue, and also, not so rarely, going into his rear end as well during a bout of hard rutting. He seemed more than ready to provide pleasures for them both at the moment as he stood there, wriggling his ass from side to side as he negotiated his tail out from the hole at the back of the coveralls before he could step fully out of them.

The sight of the naked cougar spurned John to undress even faster. His jacket was soon removed, as were his vest, his shirt, boots, pants and underbreeches, until he, too, stood fully unclothed before the cougar. Mack's eyes gleamed with lust as he took in the simple pleasure of watching the lean coyote get rid of his clothing for the sake of the toothily smiling, purring cat whose paw idly scratched against a thigh. John growled and wagged his tail at the sight, and bared his teeth too as he smiled broadly.

"If I'm gonna lose at the cards this time, John, what does that mean for me?" the cougar smiled, tilting his head mischievously.

"Well, I think I may have to ask you to provide an extra payment, Mack," John replied, taking a few steps closer to the cougar so that they stood only a couple of feet apart, but not yet at a touching distance.

John's own cock stood out of its sheath, fully exposed for the cougar to see, and his eyes did indeed wander over to the core of the canine's malehood. His hard, knotted length throbbed in the cool air and, the blunt tip glistened with gathered juices.

"What's that, John?" Mack snuffled, his scratching paw migrating over to the feline's white-furred ball sac that swayed loosely between his thighs.

The coyote smirked even wider and licked his lips.

"An extra serving of your milk, is what I would find to be sufficient to cover things up," John spoke almost innocently.

Mack's ears flicked each in turn as he processed the request for a few seconds.

"That doesn't sound much like losing to me," he rumbled, hissing a little between his teeth as his pads ran over especially sensitive part of his snug ball sac.

"But I am the one gaining something extra," John replied as he crossed the final distance and rested a paw over the cougar's shoulder.

Mack purred at the feeling, and his eyes almost closed as he felt the coyote's other paw close around his hard cock and squeeze it carefully. They both felt his member throb even more intently than before as John tugged his paw up and down over the slick length, spreading the wetness evenly all overly the studded tip and the smooth, curved shaft. The cougar's own paws found the coyote's cock too, clasping its blunt length with trained carefulness. John murred at the feeling of reciprocated touching, and rewarded his lover with a wet, tongue-intense kiss that was more than eagerly returned by the cougar. They kissed and groped and pawed each other for quite some time, making the heat growing within them become even more intense. Their cocks pulsed and leaked, making their paws glide ever the more slickly over the straining flesh. It also made them both want more.

"Ahh, hell, enough with this boy's play!" Mack grumbled after a while, stopping his motions over the coyote's cock and pushing his paw flat over the male's chest. "Time to get your taste if you want it!"

John grinned back and departed from Mack's cock with a final parting squeeze. He kept the other male's eyes the whole time as he lowered himself down to his knees on the floor. The old rug spread over the wooden floor mad it at least relatively comfortable to stay on, but he was really more interested in something that wasn't his knees. Coming down like this, in fact, put the cougar's hard, musky cock right into his line of sight, and his smile only widened before John pushed his what was sure to be very cool nosepad against the curved shatft.

Mack gasped and purred at the sudden feel, and his paws soon found John's neck as he held onto him for balance. One of John's paws grabbed the cougars rump cheek while the other was used briefly to manoeuvre his hard cock down towards the coyote's expecting maw. He growled happily from the first taste of salty flesh and juice over his tongue, made only more intense by the presence of those barbs that caught against his lips and made his tongue feel numb after a while.

He got a good rhythm going after a few moments of getting acquainted with the cougar's cock again, but without much time spent, John had it going in and out of his maw with a nice, wet, slurping sound escaping every time the pointed tip reached his lips before being plunged back in. Mack rubbed his paws all over the coyote's head and neck, keeping him steady while he began to slowly thrust his hips back and forth in a movement mimicking an actual mating, but this time he was being received by the coyote's waiting maw. The barbs scratched the back of John's muzzle a couple of times and made him growl, but this simply cause the cougar to slightly reduce the depth of his slow thrusts into the hot warmth of the other male's cavity. John's paws rubbed along his rump and the backs of his thighs, making them tingle pleasantly with the tips of his claws as they scratched through his furs and against the cougar's skin. He kept that firm rump well stroked while the cougar kept pushing his cock between John's lips.

His tongue caressed the pulsing length from all sides, even attempting to curl around it on particularly slow passes. Mostly the cougar was keeping up a steady, fast pace now, only spurned further by the hot presence of those paws all over his rump. The halves of his ass were pulled apart by firm pads and then held with careful pressure that only helped to make the arousal grow within the purring and growling cat. His thick tail swayed from side to side, which invited paws to rub and caress the base of it at the very bottom end of his spine. His pointed cock jumped against the canine's tongue and leaked more and more pre over his tongue while he was stimulated closer to his peak.

The wet sounds and all the saliva and pre made for a heated air inside the small room, musky with rut and impeding, much needed release. The cougar stood tall and proud, driving his member into the willing recipient with obvious masculine glee at the power he held over the other male. His body rippled in front of John's very eyes, tensing and flexing with held-back tension and power. His frame was built for running, and for mating, and it was showing now despite the fact that the cougar's work mostly consisted of standing in one place and staring at some gauges. He was a strong, powerful male, needing of release, and that was to come soon.

Mack's purrs and grumbles gained in volume while his body tensed even more, and his movements became less controlled and more driven by his lust. The coyote gripped his hips more firmly now with the intention of keeping him in check, for having that long member stuffed down his throat was not what he desired for now. No, he wanted a proper taste, and that he would receive within moments.

With a final lunge, the cougar hissed and began to cum. John's tongue moved into position over the spiny tip to catch all that he was giving, and he growled with pleasure as the intense musk and tang hit his senses fully. Mack's paws clutched his head firmly, digging into his skull, even, when he held himself steady and slowly kept up thrusting into that hot maw. John felt the cougar's muscles clench tight on his ass while he kept pumping cum into the awaiting muzzle. A stream after stream of body warm spunk left from Mack's pent up body and splattered against the eagerly sucking coyote's tongue and the walls of his muzzle. He kept drinking the tangy offering coming from the cougar's loins all the way until the thick pulses withered down to mere jerks and then the spurts became a soft drool of cat cream over his lapping tongue.

Mack released John's head and then yanked his cock out of the coyote's maw, breathing raggedly while he tried to recover his bearings. He looked down and saw that John was smiling, his stained lips spread wide, and his slimy tongue hung out of his maw rudely. Mack returned the lewd leer with a smile of his own and snuffled.

"Damn I needed that...," he grunted, pushing his hips back against the paws still holding onto his rump. "But I need some more too..."

"Don't have to ask, Mack," the coyote snorted, standing up now, all eager and expectant.

He wasn't about to ask, either, for knew that both of them needed some more of this, too. Without further ado, he used his grip on the spent cougar's hips to guide him towards the bed standing on one corner of the room and push the feline down on top of the grey blanket. The bed complained briefly, but the real noisemaker was Mack whom had landed on his belly onto the bed.

John climbed in as well, his hard cock swaying as he knelt down on the bed, just between the cougar's spread knees. The coyote's paws landed on his back and made a quick trip down along his ass and his thighs, feeling him up and making the feline purr again at the feeling of renewed stimulation upon his body. His cock still throbbed hard, now trapped between the blanket and his own belly furs, and he had certainly not lost much of his earlier ardour.

John's paws caught the cougar's tail and stroked up and down along its ropey length, all the way down to its base which he clutched firmly, even giving it a little tug. Mack grunted at the feeling but it did not stop him from pushing his hips back eagerly, making their curve ever the more attractive for the keen-eyed coyote. He was indeed feasting on the sight of the cougar's tan back and the flare of his ass becoming those strong legs again after a curvy ride. His undertail region was white-furred, ass were his prominent balls and the crevice between the halves of his rump. A pink, hairless pucker stood out from amidst the creamy furs invitingly.

John contorted his considerable frame greatly as he leaned down and pushed his nose against Mack's ball sac. He breathed deeply, simply inhaling the big cat's masculine musk and letting it fill his senses completely and fuel his need for the other male's body even further. Mack gasped at the feeling of that cool presence, but the soft vocalization was soon replaced by a louder growl as the coyote's tongue replaced the nosepad. His tongue lapped all over the loosened sac, making the precious jewels inside jingle against each other infuriatingly.

The coyote's oral explorations moved northwards easily, as he heated the skin with hot, huffing breaths before his tongue retraced the way. His paws kneaded and spread the cougar's generous rump cheeks apart, making more room for his hot, needy play. Mack practically mewled as he felt his balls become bathed in the canine's saliva, now running copiously down his glistering taint. His once spent cock jolted and throbbed in its confined resting place, spitting out some remaining cum to make space for more of that clear, sweet-smelling juice to pass.

"Ahhrrr....yessshh...," the cougar hissed, his voice breaking into a slurred purr.

"Hmrmrmrmhrhrh!" the coyote mumbled incomprehensibly, his jaws slack and his muzzle buried between Mack's spread cheeks.

He finally reached the very base of the tail, with all the delights it offered, and began to lap his tongue in slow, wet circles around the muscled opening into the cougar's body. The musky flesh contracted and Mack moaned at the feeling of the rough tongue making such a hot trail all around his hidden flesh.

After a few circular motions, John switched to using the very tip of his tongue only, flicking it between his lips and directly against the clenched tailhole. Mack buried his maw against the coyote's pillow at the devastating, almost ticklish feeling of John's cum - and saliva-slickened tongue teasing his flesh so ruthlessly.

John growled in concert with Mack's purrs and almost mewled vocalizations, both trying to keep them back but unable to muffle them completely. Mack pushed his rump back against the wet maw making slick fun all over it, and he was rewarded by the feeling of that broad tongue now swiping up and down the entire length of the slick valley between his rump cheeks. Every sloppy pass ended over his tailhole, prodding and teasing it in what felt like endless torture of his senses.

Both patience and time were running out for the pair, though, and as John pulled his head back to draw a few heavy gulps of air, he knew that he had to have the cougar now. He gave the sloppy, eaten out hole a longing look before snorting and slobbering a good amount of extra saliva all over the slippery, pink flesh before he finally released the cougar's ass cheeks and gave him a moment's respite.

Mack didn't have any time to complain the lack of attention upon his body when he felt the coyote shift behind him and straddle his hips with his own. He had moved from the earlier, narrow pose into a more wide posture, his knees hugging the cougar's thighs, and his dripping cock hovering just above the cougar's exposed tailbase.

John grunted and grabbed the cougar's hip with one paw while his other pushed down his rigid cock, aiming the tip between those spread cheeks and directly at the awaiting, slick hole. They both grunted at the hot feeling of flesh against flesh, but there was hardly time to contemplate it more finely before John jabbed his hips forward and thrust his blunt tip firmly against the ring of muscle.

Mack snorted and bit his teeth together as he willed hi body to relax at least a little upon the intrusion, but it was difficult to block out all discomfort when he felt the coyote's intense pushing force the tip of his cock through the cougar's hole. His barely prepared body clamped down at the feeling, but resistance was not worth it. Mack simply growled and forced himself to stillness as he felt the coyote push even more of his slick cock into the gripping heat of the cougar's backside.

John kept snorting and huffing loudly as he kneeled there, poised over the cougar's upturned rump in an utterly dominant posture. His muscles strained as he held himself still only momentarily before thrusting himself into the prone cougar with one, final push all the way to his knot. The fleshy bulb kissed Mack's stretched pucker and signalled the completion of their joining.

A deep growl and a purr rose from the cougar's chest as he felt that cock being fed into his tail tunnel with strong, slow pushes. The stillness of the initial, full penetration made him let it all out in a long, single, loud moan, and his entire body rippled with tension as it got used to the presence of something unusual amongst muscles not originally made for this purpose.

John allowed them both only a brief reprieve before he began to thrust. He used only about half of his available length to drive himself in and out of that tight, hot rump. It's wet, squishy confines massaged all over his maleness as he kept it well stroked through that tight, clamping hole and the tunnel beyond. Both of his paws held the cougar's rump cheeks and kept them spread apart so that he could watch his pink cock glide smoothly through the violated opening and into the space within. The sight of that ultimate act of rutting was incredibly arousing for the coyote who could do nothing but increase the speed of his thrusting.

Pinned as he was, Mack could do very little but simply lay there still on his belly and take the pounding from the male on top him as he propelled himself into the cougar. His tail swished from side to side, curled up and along to the side, and each movement of that fleshy appendix caused an oddly pleasant stretching feeling inside his now skewered nethers. The drive of the John's heated flesh inside him came fast and in solid, firm thrusts, his hips bouncing against the cougar's rump cheeks and flattening them briefly before he came back up to gain speed for another go. A slow, gentle act it was not, but a rough, albeit willing rutting of two males needing the release from each other.

Their bodies were taken to the limits as they coupled hard and fast, bodies smacking together and muscles straining while the coyote took the cougar soundly. Flesh burned and flesh yielded as Mack was taken and bred by the canine on top of him. His hips were a flurry, pounding into the cougar's ass with a frantic pace now. Both furs panted and groaned almost continuously, and the bed creaked as a signal to the strain was being put into.

The unrelenting first destroyed Mack's resolve, for it was him whose cock throbbed and began to spend another hot offering of cat cum before his canine lover reached his own peak. Mack bit his lip and groaned deeply against the pillow while his entire body tensed, in and out, when his pleasure hit him hard - as usual the second coming was sweeter than the first, and he was moaning deeply even before he felt the canine slam into him one more time. John crashed down upon the feline's body, pushing his teeth against the other's neck in a biteless mating gesture. His drool fell all over the cougar's back when he ground his hips madly against Mack's rump and caused his own eruption to begin.

John wanted to howl out his pleasure when his cum burst forth and was pumped directly into the cougar's clenching, pulsing tunnel. His hot fluids were copious and filled the cougar's bowels with a new kind of heat unlike that of his own coming. He kept his cock buried inside the cat's body for as long as he was spending himself, sending more and more of musky, sticky cum within him with each pulse of that mighty shaft. Their bodies screamed with tension still despite the ultimate release, and their breaths filled room with a lusty sound while they tried their best to come down from the erotic heights they had reached together.

It took a few moments more for the two to calm down enough so that they could open their eyes and let their gaze meet. Mack looked at the coyote tiredly over his shoulder, slack-jawed and breathing heavily, and his eyes still held that special gleam.

"Damn...card cheat!" he snuffled before getting his lips soundly lapped.

"Damn...soot cat!" the coyote replied, grinning lustfully at the cum-stained cat underneath him.

Mack let out a rumbling purr, and his ears flicked with delight at the soft, wet feeling.

"We gotta get moving, John...I'm sure Sparrows is ready with the tender...," the cougar grunted after a few more moments spent in the mount.

"You were early, I'm sure you can spare a few more minutes...," John replied, rubbing his cheek against the cougar's.

But there wasn't. The whistle of the locomotive was blown once, sharply, as a signal that all the passengers who had not yet boarded the train should get back to their carriages as soon as possible. It was also a clear sign that pressure was again building up in the boiler while the train prepared for departure.

"Damn...," the two furs muttered almost simultaneously, and exchanged grins.

"You better saddle up, your iron horse is ready to go," John smirked, departing from the cougar's cheek with a wet lap.

"If you'd just get off my saddle first," the cougar huffed and swiped his tail against John's muzzle.

"Augh!" the coyote yelped and fell back on his haunches, his throbbing ,spent cock slipping out of the cougar's tailhole in the process.

They both snorted at the sudden feeling of being torn apart, but it was a necessarily evil now. The two got out of the bed and scrambled for their clothing, helping each other out as well as they could to become slightly more presentable despite what had passed moments earlier.

They exchanged smiles and grins while this continued, and managed to end up to the passenger platform again as the perfect displays of the new American age. One was the commander of the iron horse going through the empty prairies while the other bore the responsibility of keeping everyone travelling along this track safe. With their trusty oil can and pocket watch, they were in charge of the lives of the dozens of furs onboard the train. Their noses were again pressing onto the glass panes, peering curiously at the pairing as they exchanged a solemn pawshake before the driver disappeared into the darkness of the night as he went for his locomotive again.

Webb joined Argyle on the platform after a moment, the fox's big eyes still as wide as ever as he watched the station master stand tall and proud, with his lantern held up high for signalling.

"All aboard!" Argyle announced out of pure pleasure, for the platform for clear and it didn't seem like anyone had wandered out and gotten missing.

Since nobody showed up again, he could use his lantern to give a light signal for the locomotive, and as he watched, in the dim glow of the furnace being opened again, he saw the shape of the cougar leaning out from the cabin, looking back towards the platform with one paw held up high in greeting.

Argyle smiled and waved a free paw back, before giving another signal with his lantern. The train began to hiss and tremble as the pressure rose again. With her thirst sated and her belly full of burning heat, she once again began to lumber along the steel tracks, soon gaining speed and departing the small station with an ever-growing choo-choo sound coursing through the air to the ears of the two onlookers. Argyle smiled and checked his pocket watch, finding that it was only five past eight now.

"Looking good, sonny," he smirked at the young fox, "they're fifteen minutes ahead of schedule..looks like a record run."

"Did you lose at the cards again, sir?" the fox asked, big, curious eyes fixed on the coyote station master.

"No, Webb, my boy, I won big time," Argyle grinned toothily at the eagerly smiling fox whose grin only widened and became ever the more boyish as he heard about his boss' luck at the card table.

"Good job, sir!"

"Good job for you too, sonny," Argyle spoke and patted the young assistant's shoulder with almost fatherly affection evident in his smile.

"Thank you, sir, sir!"

"Why don't you run home now to your mother and see what nice she has cooked for her very brave son, eh?"

"YES SIR!" the fox announced gleefully.

"Off you go then," Argyle replied and sent the boy out running madly down the platform and into the night.

Argyle shook his head with amusement and pulled out his pocket watch for on final glance. He, unlike the boy, was never off duty.

*

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