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The Elk Inn

Chapter Three

© Cederwyn Whitefurr

13th September, 2024

All Rights Reserved.

Oliver spent most of the day drifting in and out of sleep. His hangover had improved somewhat, but he still felt drained and disoriented. Whenever he tried to stay awake, the gentle warmth of the bed and the heaviness of the covers would pull him back under. He dozed on and off, the hours slipping by as he found solace in the quiet and comfort of his shared bed.

His mind and dreams were filled with thoughts and fantasies – some quite arousing and sensual – thinking of that imposing, masculine bull elk at the bar. He couldn't stop thinking about him, his appearance, the beautiful way his muscles rippled and moved beneath that luxurious and immaculate fur coat...

The sheer size of his finely furred sheath and those heavy, ponderous testicles...

By the time evening rolled around, the sky had deepened into twilight, casting a soft, fading light through the bedroom curtains. Oliver stirred fully, feeling somewhat refreshed but still groggy. He stretched languidly, the remnants of his hangover a dull throb, rather than the pounding agony it'd been earlier.

*

Rowan, who had been moving around the apartment quietly, was now in the kitchen, preparing something for dinner. The faint aroma of sliced vegetables and boiling grains drifted into the bedroom, gently coaxing Oliver out of his lingering drowsiness.

As Oliver shuffled into the kitchen, Rowan turned with a smile and a raised eyebrow. “Well, good evening! How's the head now?”

Oliver rubbed his eyes, trying to shake off the last vestiges of sleep. “Better, I think. I've been napping off and on all day. I hope I didn't sleep through dinner.”

Rowan chuckled softly. “Not at all. I was just about to set the table. You've had a pretty good rest.”

Oliver slumped into a chair, resting his head in his hands and shuddering. “Thank you for letting me sleep – I think I really needed it. What do you think they put in that beer?”

“No problem,” Rowan murmured, dishing up a plate of food. “It is good to see you up and about. Now, a nice meal, a long, hot shower, and...what did we learn?”

Oliver picked up a spoon, then lopsidedly grinned at Rowan. “Do not try to match my brother, drink for drink?”

Rowan's grin spread wider and he nodded, then set into his own dinner.

As they ate, their conversation wandered, then turned more thoughtful, Rowan and Oliver sharing their thoughts and feelings about the Elk Inn, Oliver still unsettled, but Rowan's increasing curiosity grew.

*

After their dinner, Rowan cleared away the dishes before turning back and holding out his paws to his smaller brother, helping him up. Tenderly, Rowan guided Oliver to the bathroom, where Oliver began stripping off his clothing, Rowan likewise disrobing.

Oliver felt more awake after his meal as he watched Rowan quickly adjust the shower, the gentle steam curling up from the tiles and filling the room with a soft, inviting haze. Oliver hesitated for a moment, the feel of the seat against his fur and the warm glow of the bathroom light further relaxing him. Rowan, already under the shower, turned to look back at Oliver before making a beckoning gesture.

“Are you coming in?” Rowan called out, his voice calm and relaxed, with a subtle hint of invitation.

Oliver walked towards the shower, pulling back the frosted glass door with a tentative motion. The sight that greeted him was tender and arousing: Rowan's sleek, athletic form glistening under the water, his fur slick and darkened with moisture. Rowan's eyes met Oliver's, a warm smile spreading across his face.

With a soft sigh, Oliver stepped into the shower, the hot water enveloping him like a lover's embrace. The heat of the water felt like a balm against his fur and skin, easing the last remnants of his hangover and washing away the sweat.

Rowan moved aside to make space before his hands slipped around Oliver's waist and gently guided him under the full force of the shower's cascade. The touch was light, but the sensation was electric, sending a shiver down Oliver's spine and making his tail start flagging. Rowan snickered, moving closer as he began to gently kiss and nibble at the juncture between neck and shoulder, his hands sliding further around to gently stroke Oliver's firming sheath.

Oliver trembled, as the warm water cascaded over his fur. His mind wandered. He tried to focus on Rowan's gentle hands, but he couldn't shake the thought of the bull elk, back at the bar. His large, powerful hands... the ones he imagined holding him close, maybe even...

“Feeling better?” Rowan whispered, his voice a soothing murmur against the sound of the water.

Oliver tensed, his train of thought derailing as he come back to himself, before closing his eyes as he savoured the feeling of the water mixed with Rowan's sensual caress. “Much better. This... feels amazing.”

Rowan's hands worked skilfully as he applied a mild, fragrant body wash to Oliver's fur. He took his time, his movements slow, sensual and very arousing. One hand encircled the sheath, tenderly caressing and stroking, while the other hand washed Oliver's back until the wash formed a rich, thick lather. Each stroke alternated between firm pressure and gentle caress, sending Oliver's body quivering.

The steam and warmth from the shower heightened his senses, making each touch more intense and meaningful. Rowan's hand travelled down Oliver's back, lingering a moment before clasping Oliver's tail and lifting it up, before moving his hand to Oliver's right hip. The intimacy of this act was palpable, their shared experiences strengthening their bond.

“Let me help you relax,” Rowan murmured, his breath warm against Oliver's ear as he felt the smaller buck push back against him. His fingers worked the lather into Oliver's fur, the other hand continuing to caress and stimulate Oliver's firming length tenderly.

“Eager little doe, aren't you?” Rowan grinned, kissing and nibbling the side of Oliver's neck, before playfully biting his shoulder. Tenderly, Rowan moved closer, mounting his sibling and then beginning a thrusting motion, that was soothing and sensually invigorating for both bucks.

“Nnngh - “ Oliver gurgled, his head tilting back before his muscles tightened and his paws slapped the tiled wall with a wet slurp. He began to ejaculate helplessly, his tail slapping wetly against Rowan's stomach. Spurts of stick cervid semen splattered on the glass, slowly oozing their way down and leaving glistening trails.

“Naughty girl--” Rowan playfully teased, impressed and amused in equal measure.

Oliver, still catching his breath, his half-lidded eyes shimmering with mischief, glanced over his shoulder at Rowan. A brief flicker of something—surprise or maybe embarrassment—crossed his features, but it vanished as quickly as it appeared. He laughed weakly at Rowan's joke, but deep down, a frustration burned within him. How could he be naughty when he couldn't even ask for what he really wanted? His mind flashed back to that bull elk, his imposing masculinity, the mere thought of those hands, and that sheath—the promise of what it held, nearly turned Owen's knees to jelly. His heart rate quickened.

What if... what if I could just let go, just for one night? Oliver thought, then a gentle squeeze of his sheath once more snapped him out of his lustful thoughts.

With a cheeky grin creeping onto his lips, he poked the tip of his tongue out, teasingly. “You wish,” he panted, his voice laced with playfulness, the earlier moment of hesitation now buried.

As the warm water cascaded over them, Rowan's hands moved to Oliver's hips, his touch remaining tender and deliberate. His hands continued their gentle exploration, hooflets tracing lazy circles up Oliver's twitching stomach and chest, then trailing back down his sides. The hot water and the wash made their fur slick and smooth, enhancing every sensation.

Rowan's hands moved with a practised ease, his touch stimulating. He took his time, making each caress last, drawing out the mutual pleasure in a slow, deliberate dance of lust and love. His lips found Oliver's neck again, placing soft, lingering kisses that sent shivers through Oliver's body. Rowan's skilled paws knew every touch on Oliver's body – exploring and arousing him further and further, yet Oliver's thoughts had drifted somewhere far away.

“Hey,” Rowan said softly, nipping his brother's ear in a playful nibble, snapping Oliver back to the moment once more. “What's got you so distracted? You're normally so much more alert.”

Oliver giggled nervously, his tail fluttering against his brother's wet stomach, leaving smears through the body wash foam, his inner ears flushed and he quickly looked away. “Nothing,” though the image of the elk's piercing gaze lingered in his mind.

Rowan snorted, then increased his thrusting, making Oliver gasp and begin to bleat softly, his head tilting back and muzzle falling open as he quivered in pleasure.

Rowan's breath was warm against his ear, whispering sweet, reassuring words. “Just relax,” Rowan murmured. “Let yourself feel everything.”

Oliver nodded weakly, his body quivering under the constant, gentle pressure of Rowan's touch. The heat of the water, combined with Rowan's caresses and lovemaking, created an overwhelming sensation, leaving him in a state of blissful submission. His breaths came in shallow, ragged bursts as he surrendered himself completely to his brother's whims and desires.

Rowan's hands moved Oliver's front again, his fingers finding the tender spot just below Owen's rib cage and sliding downwards with deliberate slowness. He worked the lather further into Oliver's fur, each movement timed as he continued to thrust in and out, building the anticipation. His other hand continued to hold the still flicking and twitching cervid length delicately, drawing soft, incoherent moans from Oliver.

“Feels so good,” Oliver gasped, his voice barely audible over the sound of the shower. His eyes were half-closed, the world reduced to the warmth of the water and Rowan's touch.

Rowan's lips curved into a gentle smile. “I'm glad. You deserve to feel this good.”

The water continued to pour over them, creating a soothing backdrop for Rowan's attention. He adjusted his stance slightly, pulling Oliver closer and tighter, eliciting a low gasp. Rowan's hands moved in rhythm with the steady of rising moans coming from Oliver, the combination of the two intensifying the sensations even more.

Rowan's movements became more deliberate as if savouring each moment. He ached to give his brother his gift, it was a delicious torture within him, a burning ache of desire and lust. With supreme effort, Rowan repressed the urges. His hands roamed all over Oliver's body with a loving, almost reverent touch. He ensured that every stroke, every caress, every time he mounted Oliver again and again, was slow, methodical, prolonging the blissful state Oliver was in.

As Oliver's pleasure built, his legs began to weaken. He leaned heavily against the tiled wall, whilst Rowan snickered and bit down on his brother's shoulder again. Oliver bleated and once again, a powerful orgasm splattered the glass – Rowan's own orgasm found its release as he held the shaking and gasping young buck tight, their releases almost simultaneous and leaving them both helplessly quivering.

“You...were doing so well...” Rowan gasped, struggling to hold his increasingly limp brother up, his own knees quivering. “You're... okay, I got you.”

Oliver gurgled and moaned helplessly, his body slowly relaxing as the last remnants of the pleasure rippled through him. The heat of the water and Rowan's steady presence created a feeling of safety and comfort.

As the shower continued to soothe them both, Rowan shivered and tightened his slick grip on his brother, before nuzzling his ear. “So... what's got you so... enthusiastic?”

Oliver's breathing was rough and ragged, taking a few moments to be able to speak, as a nervous tremble rippled through him, making Rowan shudder and squeeze Oliver's hips tighter, still buried inside him – hypersensitive and aroused. “El...” Oliver's voice quavered. “El...”

Rowan snorted, then nipped his brother's neck teasingly. “Here I am, giving a naughty young doe a thorough rutting that she loves... and she's daydreaming about that elk?”

Oliver's nervous giggle escaped his quivering lips, as he slid his hands off the wall and gripped his brother's wrists, holding them and glancing back over his shoulder, an embarrassed, guilty look in his eyes, a nervous smile on his wet lips. “I'm...not a...doe,” Oliver's wavering voice come.

Rowan snorted, carefully dismounting from his brother, before turning him about and pressing him back against the other wall, then pulling him close, their mutual arousal rubbing and pressing against each other's wet, slick stomach fur.

“Yes, yes you are...” Rowan growled playfully, his fingers gripping Oliver's buttocks and pulling him close before he gazed into Oliver's eyes, then pressed his lips against the smaller buck in a long, and passionate kiss.

*

Finally, the steady rhythm of the shower's cascade came to an end, and Rowan, still holding Oliver close, eased him out from under the water. He carefully turned off the faucets, whilst keeping a protective arm around his weary and quivering sibling. Oliver, barely able to keep his eyes open, leaned heavily against Rowan, his breath coming in soft, tired sighs.

Rowan left the shower, helping Oliver, then reached for a thick, fluffy towel hanging on the rack. With care, he began drying Oliver, his movements slow and deliberate, ensuring that each touch was comforting and thorough. Oliver's fur was slick from the water and their other activities and Rowan snickered as he meticulously dried him off, his hands moving gently over Oliver's tired body.

As Rowan towel-dried his fur, Oliver smiled, grateful for the care. Even as Rowan's hands brushed over him, the image of the bull elk looked large in his mind.

One night, just one night, even one time... Was it really so wrong to want that? Oliver thought, his eyes growing misty and thoughtful.

As Rowan worked, he murmured softly, gazing up from where he knelt, noticing Oliver becoming aroused again, even after two powerful and intense orgasms. “My, my, my, what has gotten into you?”

“You, multiple, pleasurable times,” Oliver murmured.

Rowan blushed, then snickered and kissed his brother's forehead. “Well, how about I finish drying you off, then take you to bed and see if we can't help with your problem... shall we?”

Oliver's responses were mumbled and drowsy, his head slumping down as he mumbled. “Thank you... Rowan.”

Once Oliver was thoroughly dried, Rowan dried himself, then wrapped his sibling in a warm robe and guided him into the bedroom. Oliver stumbled, his legs weak but his spirit willing – as was quite obviously, his arousal.

“Not even rutting season yet,” Rowan snickered, gently laying Oliver down on the bed.

He joined Oliver, pulling the covers up over them both, ensuring his brother was snug and warm. The gentle rustle of the sheets and the soft hum on the air conditioning created a soothing backdrop as Rowan wrapped his arms around Oliver, and then pulled him close.

Oliver gasped and blushed, his inner ears turning crimson, as his erection was pressed between his belly and that of Rowan.

“I've got you,” Rowan smiled, his voice soothing as he began to caress Oliver's fur gently. His fingers traced lazy, affectionate patterns down Oliver's sides and then up his back, slowly easing him back into a state of relaxation.

Oliver rested his head on Rowan's chest, and he sighed deeply, his eyes fluttering closed. The residual energy from earlier, now ebbing away. Rowan's touch was tender and loving, a stark contrast to the intense passion they'd shared earlier. The soft, tender caresses of Rowan's hand over Oliver's fur were calming, and soon, Oliver's breathing evened out.

Rowan snickered quietly, continuing his gentle caresses and touches, however, the warmth of his brother and the tenderness of his affections soon kindled a new desire within Oliver, making Rowan blink and stare wide-eyed into Oliver's eyes. “Are you sure it's not rutting season?”

Oliver's nervous giggle pealed forth. His body, still sensitive from their earlier lovemaking, began to respond eagerly to Rowan's gentle caresses with renewed arousal. His breath grew more rapid, and he shifted restlessly beneath Rowan's touch.

Rowan noticed the change immediately, a knowing smile playing on his lips. “It looks like someone's still in need of attention,” he murmured, his voice low and inviting. He gently guided Oliver's trembling form to straddle him, positioning himself so Oliver's desires could be fully addressed.

Oliver, his arousal almost uncontrollable, positioned himself over Rowan with a mix of frustration and eagerness. Rowan's hands roamed over Oliver's hips and thighs, his touch tender yet purposeful. He guided Oliver with a mix of firm, yet loving touches, his own arousal quickly pressing against the underside of Oliver's tail. Carefully, and gently, Rowan mounted, ensuring every movement was satisfying and responsive to Oliver's needs.

Their lovemaking resumed, this time more intensely focused on satisfying Oliver's heightened urges. Rowan's attentions were thorough and passionate, each touch, even movement, designed to bring Oliver to the peak of pleasure. The sounds of their pleasure mingled with the soft rustle of the sheets, creating a symphony of intimacy.

Surprisingly, Oliver's drive lasted well past midnight, before their shared passion gradually subsided, Rowan continued to hold Oliver close, panting and shuddering. Oliver giggled nervously and awkwardly enfolded Rowan in a warm, tender embrace.

“Thank...” Oliver's panting breath ruffled Rowan's ear.

“You're welcome,” Rowan murmured, caressing his siblings back.

Oliver, now completely spent, lay on Rowan's chest, his body twitching and finally relaxing. Rowan's hands, moved up and down Oliver's back, providing a final layer of comfort and affection. Listening to the rhythmic rise and fall of Rowan's chest beneath Oliver's ear was calming, and soon, the gentle sound of Oliver's snoring filled the room.

Rowan's expression softened as he awkwardly looked down at his sleeping brother. He continued to caress Oliver's fur tenderly, his touch reaffirming the silent promise of protection and love. As Oliver's snoring grew more pronounced, Rowan shook his head slowly a smile spreading across his lips, content to have given his brother both pleasure and peace.

Their room reeked of cervine musk and spent seed, and the discarded towel Oliver had used dropped on the floor.

“I think we both need another shower -” Rowan muttered, smelling the sweat, the musk and the residual scents of their passionate and pleasurable lovemaking. Tenderly, he kissed Oliver's cheek, then reached over and turned off the bedside light, plunging them both into darkness.

TO BE CONTINUED