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Kieran sat back with one arm over the side of the couch, fingers rubbing idly at the texture of the fabric there. Across the living room some Christmas movie played on the TV, with thematic music still running over the little radio up by the fireplace; then behind him somewhat he heard the sounds of Shekh over in the kitchen, soft humming alongside the clinking of the pot over the stove, and the whisk that he used for the chocolate. It had been hard to find a suitable time to get together in between Kieran’s classes approaching their exam season, and then everything else going on for the holidays, and as such tonight it was just the two of them here, human – for now – and hyena.

It was always interesting to him, going about the world in this furless form: most chairs didn’t feel quite right, and it could be hard to find the proper soap and shampoo that would work on bare skin instead of conditioned pelt, and more often than not he just ended up going for the jeans with the tail-loop built into the back, since that was always cheaper than getting a pair custom made for his tailless body. Then over here on the couch he couldn’t even hope to get a whiff of the chocolate, though knew that if he were to adopt the hyena’s form and senses, then it would smell as rich to him as it would were it steaming from a mug right in front of him.

As if on cue, then, he did in fact hear the quiet tp-tp-tp of bare toeclaws tapping across the kitchen’s tile floor, then muting again when Shekh stepped onto the carpet here in the living room. Kieran turned his head and couldn’t help but smile at the sight of mocha-toned fur, puffing and bristling out from where Shekh had stuffed himself into that stupid sweater. That had been something that both of them had done on a whim, without speaking about it first – Shekh in the bright red with Kringle Here To Mingle woven into the pattern beneath a suitably jolly Santa, and then Kieran in his own deep green with the classic cross-stitch pattern of mating reindeer all across the design.

“I thought…” The hyena bent over, tail swaying out to balance the movement, and placed a pair of mismatching mugs onto the coffee table. “...that it’d be better to keep it in a thermos,” then jiggled it before setting that down too, “and dish it out as we drink so it doesn’t get too cold.”

“Oh, that’s a good idea.” Kieran licked his lips and leaned in, but then sat back again to let the hyena past him. That tail brushed across his knees, somewhat coarse yet still soft; his ankles stretched back and flexed with each step – he remembered learning the word for that stature back in biology, but couldn’t recall the word itself – and then he turned, tail once again swinging out first, to plop back down into his original spot beside his furless friend. “Anything special about this one?”

“Nah. Just the tablet ones in there that I usually use. I mean, it has the cinnamon I think, and then a bit less sugar than the, uh… ones in the packet?”

“Cool. Cool cool. Um…”

Kieran glanced up to the TV but didn’t pay attention to what was playing. All he could think about was this striped hyena sitting beside him, so close that he could feel the tickle from those little tufts of fur against his skin, even through the layers of clothing he wore. While cooking Shekh had rolled the sleeves of his sweater up to the elbow; now that mocha fur glistened with a smooth sheen, highlighting the different textures throughout, the shorter sections along his inner arms, the longer, softer grain along the outside where his stripes danced and curled. Then the shape of his fingers too, paws rather than hands, with carefully maintained and manicured claws – painted with a smooth, mossy green polish, too – curved above dark, velvet-leather fingerpads as he reached out for the full thermos.

Then Kieran cleared his throat. “Hey, um…”

Shekh paused. One of his tall, notched triangular ears twitched towards the human beside him, and sharp predator’s eyes – wait, hyenas are scavengers, aren’t they? – flicked his way as well, mouth quirking in a silent question.

He swallowed. The noise seemed loud to his own inferior human ears; he couldn’t imagine what it would sound like to Shekh beside him. “I was just thinking, uh… I’m happy we could do this. Y’know? I wish more folks could’ve shown up, but it’s a weird time-” mid-afternoon on a Thursday, specifically, “-since I’ve got exams next week, and then you’re heading off to visit family over Christmas break itself…”

“Yeah, for sure. Don’t worry about it.” Instead of opening the thermos, those claws tapped across the surface of the lid, tendons and knuckles shifting beneath sleek, silky pelt. Then while he watched, that paw lifted… “Besides,” and reached over to pat Kieran’s leg just above his knee, “I couldn’t let Lukas have you all to himself, right?”

Immediately the sensation of those claws, though blunted, prickled all the way up his leg – and vibrated within his loins, Shekh gripping with a little more force, Kieran giving a nervous, shy laugh. Now he could really feel the difference between his own hands and then Shekh’s paws, with those soft pads squishing in against the material of his pants, and the claws poking faintly through, like little pools of sparks sizzling over his nerves. The hyena smiled, upper lip pulling up just far enough to show the point of one of his thick, deadly fangs.

Kieran forced himself to breathe. “Hah. Yeah. Um… thanks, y’know. You two have been a lot of fun to hang out with, since like… school sucks, and I’ve got this – the whole, uh…”

Another ear-flick. Shekh glanced down across Kieran’s shoulders, to his chest, then down his lap and legs and back up again, as though making sure he was still there. “Yeah. I know.”

“Yeah. And you don’t mock me for it, and you even-”

“Like it? I mean, yeah, a little bit…” He started to lean in closer, weight pressing in on his friend’s leg. “Since, like – why d’you think I made sure it was gonna be only you and me tonight?”

The nearer the hyena came, the more the human could pick up the soft, gentle scent of animal on him, like sand mixed with a touch of dry grass and open fields, strung underneath by a distinct rich muskiness. Kieran glanced up to him, reached to press a hand – not a paw – against Shekh’s shoulder, and there felt the scruffy puff of fur where it occasionally poked out in between the fibers of his sweater. “I was wondering…”

“And, besides…” The hyena tilted his head when he came in, brushing his wet-leather nose across smooth skin, then pursing his lips forward as well. “Lukas told me about what all you two got up to last time he went over to your dorm.”

“Oh, God…”

“Uh huh. So, naturally, I wanted my turn.” Then a paw came in to caress Kieran’s jaw, where he could feel the shape of the fingerpads, the spots where flesh gave way to fur, and then above all else those short claws again, leaving fiery little trails of sensation where they traced; Shekh tilted his head towards him, let out a little huff of breath through his flared nostrils, then leaned in closer… “And I thought you wouldn’t mind so much…” ...and continued to lean in…

...and Kieran’s eyes fluttered shut beneath the feeling of those loose, sloppy lips nudging in against his own, entirely different in shape and structure. The kiss was lopsided and awkward, but if anything this just drew him in even deeper: his hand drifted down from the hyena’s shoulder towards his elbow, across the rolled-up sleeve, so that he could dig his fingers fully into the fur there. Shekh swallowed – Kieran felt the shift in pressure between them, mouths pressed together as much as they could be what with the difference there – then let his paw trail around to the back of his neck, claws guiding the way, pushing through wisps of short hair and making him squirm and shiver and shift.

He couldn’t help but giggle softly into the kiss, and felt Shekh’s sleek animalistic lips tug back in a responding smile. “What?” the hyena breathed without breaking away; he turned his head the other way, tugged Kieran closer, and then began to lap away at him as though he were grooming his own fur, his broad, flat tongue flicking forward, dragging across short, flat teeth and gums, curling up beneath the human’s lip, and then drawing back in.

Kieran grunted, groaned, shifted where he sat, and then finally managed to catch that tongue between his lips. For a moment he suckled softly at it, smooth and soft yet still textured in its own way, like suede brushed against the grain; Kieran swallowed again, released his friend’s tongue, then reached up to drape his arms over his shoulders, already panting softly. “I think I see where this is going…”

“Oh, yeah?” The hyena ran his paws down his back, deliberately leading with his claws so that they pricked and caught in the fabric of Kieran’s sweater. The sensation made him arch his back and shiver against him – and then the next thing he knew, that broad, flat tongue filled his mouth again, this time with the hyena’s muzzle almost fully sideways, powerful jaws parted around his much shorter, smaller face. Broad, blunted fangs poked in along his cheeks, dank breaths wisping out to fill his mouth and trickle down into his lungs; for a moment the two held there, Kieran with one hand over Shekh’s shoulder and the other pressing against his chest, feeling the thicker ruff of fur trailing down from his mane beneath the collar of his sweater, and then Shekh with one paw squeezing at the back of the human’s neck with the other still closer to his thigh. Then, eventually, the hyena’s tongue slid back again, slick and sticky with mixed drool – which Kieran made sure to suckle off between his lips before the muscle escaped. “And where’s that?”

It took quite a bit of effort and concentration, but… he thought he could handle it for now. It also helped that Kieran had gone through the shift just the other day in between classes; it could be quite embarrassing when it happened, but these days he had mostly managed it to happen out of public view, at least. Intense sensations or emotions often triggered it in him, and usually he could sense it coming from afar even if by that point there was nothing he could do to stave it off – the shift, the change, the transformation from this wiry, diminutive human form, into something much more like Shekh here against him, yet still different in its own way.

And usually that shift approached with arousal, specifically. Kieran swallowed, set his jaw, reached for Shekh’s paw still on his thigh, and then guided that forward, down, between his legs… and nestled it into place, where the hyena’s fingers swiftly, carefully turned to cup the growing stiffness there, and to slip down underneath the swell of his sack as well. Both of them sighed out with the contact, the kiss finally breaking; Shekh glanced behind himself, broad tongue lapping across his saliva-slickened chops, and then with one well-placed footpaw nudged the table back out of the way.

Kieran scooted forward towards the edge of the couch even before the hyena had taken his position kneeling there on the carpet between his legs. Cool green eyes flickered up to him again, bestial sharpness layered beneath thick lids, before he focused down at his current point of interest; then deft paws came forward to work at the button, the zipper, the flaps of his pants, the waistband of his boxers underneath. Kieran swallowed yet again – he could taste the thick, sticky slickness of the hyena’s drool coating the interior of his mouth – and then lifted up from the cushion to allow him to tug both of these down.

The hyena had to lift the elastic of the waistband to pull it around Kieran’s half-hard shaft, then giving another pulse and throb once it was brought into the open air. As soon as he did so he could see Shekh’s nose twitch with the burst of scent – and he couldn’t help but blush a little bit, wondering what he might smell like to the much more sensitive, inquisitive bestial nose – and then do so again, and again as he leaned in. Green eyes flashed up again and then right back down, and those fingers splayed to cup beneath his balls; Shekh brought his thumb in next, blunted claw teasing carefully across folds of supple, soft skin, before giving way to the softer pad along the other side. He tugged at Kieran’s sack, took in another breath through his nose, sighed sweetly out through parted lips, and then-

-flopped that same broad, flat tongue out and pressed it in against the underside of his shaft, its width easily cupping around him. Kieran’s head rolled back on his shoulders and he sighed, lifting up into the lick as Shekh drew his head up to then follow with a second, a third, a fourth. The other paw came in to angle him upwards, tongue now flicking, dancing around his head, sleek foreskin bunched together into a wrinkled overlap. Kieran sat back and watched, eyes half-lidded, mouth hanging open, as the hyena went to work on him: one paw massaged and rubbed his balls while the other stroked his stiffening length, tongue managing to wriggle itself surprisingly deep beneath slick skin and then right back out so that he could wrap his lips around him and dive down, lengthy muzzle managing to encompass him all the way down to the base.

There Shekh held himself, tongue rhythmically squeezing as he suckled, sensitive nose buried amid bristling pubic hair. He pulled in breath after slow breath, each one then trickling right back out as a shivering, indulgent little moan; focusing there he shifted his paws away to grip the human’s waist, slender fingers slipping up beneath his sweater and then shirt underneath. Thumbs pressed in at lines of muscle layered beneath smooth, furless skin, Shekh bobbing steadily; Kieran grunted, shifted, and thrust in rhythm, now able to feel the way that rim of skin slid smoothly back against the roof of the hyena’s mouth, then forward again with the squeezing of his tongue.

Briefly he glanced up to the TV, then back down to tall ears, bristling mane, swaying tail. Shekh shifted, balancing himself against the front edge of the couch as he reached down, fiddled with his own pants… popped and unzipped his fly, tugged down, shifted again… let out a slow, breathy moan through flared nostrils as he began stroking at himself as well, still slurping, swallowing, bobbing along.

There’s just… Kieran rolled his head back, his eyes now drifting fully shut. Something about that tongue… Exactly the same as he had felt around his own, smooth, velvety, flat yet thick, pliable yet firm. Occasionally came the small bumps and brushes of those round fangs across him, never enough to make him twitch or jerk or gasp, and instead just reminding him of their presence; he could feel the hyena pull himself all the way back down and then hold there again, floating among scent and taste, the fur around his lips still matted with the sloppy drool from their shared kiss.

Right as Kieran expected Shekh to keep on going all the way, though, the hyena’s ears flicked again, his eyes fluttered, and he drew back towards the end of his shaft, once more nibbling his tender foreskin between soft lips. Then he swallowed, glanced up, drew back further, and tilted his head to the side to swiftly dump a glob of spit into his palm… which he then rubbed beneath his tail, the brushy fur lifting, swishing to the side.

Before he could say anything in response, Kieran felt himself pushed back down to the couch once again as the hyena rose between his legs. Shekh’s paws, the one still damp, pressed in against his shoulders for balance; one knee came in alongside his body to then be followed by the other, the other male stepping out of his pants and underwear as he rose and finally bringing into view the further curls of his stripes, deeper cinnamon-chocolate among mocha and cream.

Kieran chuckled softly, heart jumping into his throat, arousal strengthening even further at the guidance of one saliva-slickened paw to tilt him down between Shekh’s legs, the hyena’s hefty sack hanging down beneath his own full shaft, then nudging up against the wrinkled pucker of his tailhole. “What about – the movie?”

“Hmm?” Once in place, bunched foreskin nudging in at the center of overlapping, succulent flesh, the hyena returned his arms to the human’s shoulders and rocked slowly forward and back. He put in just enough pressure for Kieran to start nudging up into him, so that he could feel the tense squeeze of the ring of muscle without actually pushing in. “What movie?”

“The movie that – you picked out and – that’s-”

“What…” Shekh’s paws tightened around his shoulders, and then, he began to press down. Tight, squeezing rim smoothly, easily gave way to plush, velvety wet heat inside, rolls of inner flesh sucking snug around Kieran’s shaft as he sank deeper in; yet again his head rolled back and he throbbed, and did so again, and again, the hyena in his lap already working his hips to slowly ride further down onto him. “...movie?”

Much of Kieran’s effort went into holding himself back. It had to. He squirmed underneath the hyena’s slow, steady movement, muscles and meat sleeving so snug and slick around his hard cock, pressing further down; Shekh now had one paw on the human’s shoulder while the other reached back underneath his tail to spread himself, adding another little tug to the ring of muscle already parted open around him. He couldn’t help but lift up into warm, wet depths, earning a little gasp and grunt from the male sinking down into his lap.

From there Shekh began to work himself into that steady, familiar rhythm, guiding himself down until plush rump pressed against firm thighs; his head rolled back on his shoulders and his mouth fell open, pleasurable delight vibrating gently through him. Kieran always marveled how it seemed to feel so good for him, in the way that it made his eyes light up, and sent this thrumming eagerness through his body, and – the human reached forward, brushed his fingers across twitching, dripping hard shaft, squeezed and stroked gently – how it kept him so, so hard.

I’ve even seen him finish up without ever touching himself, he thought in awe, drawing his hand back and forth, back and forth across sleek, supple skin and stiff flesh that twitched and pulse beneath his touch. Fucking impossible task. Hot as hell, and…

And now Shekh brought his other paw forward from beneath his tail to press that against his friend’s shoulder as well, and used both to lift himself up. He drew forward as he did so, long animalistic muzzle nearly bumping against Kieran’s flat face; he could feel the heat radiating off his body, could smell the tacky headiness of fur and sweat and drool, and… his other hand traced up along Shekh’s bare thigh, toward his side, and beneath the hem of his sweater, where his fingers coiled within short, soft, somewhat coarse fur. Layered underneath fur and skin he could then feel the rhythmic tension within the hyena’s muscles, tendons bunching each time he lifted up along him and then relaxing as he sank back down, that sensation of succulent wet warmth squishing around him again, and again.

“Aah…” Kieran swallowed through an open mouth, eyes still halfway closed. “God…”

“Mhmm?”

Shekh shifted atop him, leaning forward again, wiggling his hips side to side to wedge himself even further back onto the cock already hilted inside of him. Every time he throbbed and clenched, Kieran felt it, that puckered ring as well his inner guts sucking in around him for just a fraction of a second. The hyena held himself there, paws on his shoulders, teeth gritted, eyes unfocused as he worked with only his muscles: the clench and tight squeeze, the trembling hold, then the smooth relaxation… giving way to deep, steady pushing from inside, so that his inner walls bunched and slurped and squished down around him, slipping back further, and then repeating with another clench. Shekh’s upper lip curled back with the effort, and in that moment Kieran looked up to see the broad, thick fangs, the wet pink gums, the way his snout wrinkled with exertion – and how his eyes fluttered open and took a moment to finally focus on him.

“That’s… good, you…” The hyena shivered, back straightening, as he pressed himself all the way down again. Paws slid back and braced behind himself along Kieran’s legs, Shekh’s back arched, chest out, the little puff of his bellyfur poking up beneath the hem of his sweater. Kieran had to avoid looking at it or else it would make him laugh. “Feel… so fucking… good…” While he attempted to speak he still rocked his hips, churning them forward and back, keeping the human buried beneath his tail. His paws had drifted down from Kieran’s shoulders to his belly, and then moved from there again, tightening his hand around his cock and then dragging the other by the wrist around his body and underneath his sweater, to then thread his fingers amid the thick, plush fur of his mane hidden inside.

Yet again Kieran lifted up, then again, and again, bare feet bracing against the side of the table in front of him, nudging it gently further back with each thrust. Shekh’s growing pleasure throbbed through the hard shaft in his hand, pumping steadily with the rhythm; the hyena tossed his head back, swallowed, let his tongue hang out of his mouth, and then leaned back a little bit, catching himself along the hand now gripping into his mane, Kieran recalling the several times in their prior he had been told “you can pull on it, y’know, it doesn’t hurt” and then doing just that.

Still, though, he had to keep just as tight a handle on himself: his fingers twitched, his ears tickled, his nose tickled, and deep down inside, rumbling within his chest as well as his loins, he could without a doubt feel the beginnings of the change trying to take root and swell out inside of him. It was a drive as deep and urgent as the sex itself, the need and pleasure so sharp it bordered on discomfort pulsing, swirling, twitching inside of him, inside of Shekh; the hyena in his lap continued to ride, guiding Kieran’s hand along his hard length, his legs squeezing at the human’s waist for leverage as he lifted up, held there, then sank back down again.

Yet again Kieran bumped his head against the back of the couch, fingers digging through thick fur, “Shekh, I-”

“Good boy…”

“I’m – about to-”

“Good boy, that’s a… good boy, you’re doing… such a good job…”

And then he couldn’t resist. It pulsed, it pounded through him and up into the hyena, lifting both of them briefly off the couch as Kieran unloaded deep inside. He felt Shekh clenching around him with each spurt pumping deep, his already shaky voice shivering out towards a breathy moan; the hyena lifted up and then pressed firmly back down with each pulse, inviting Kieran even deeper, lodging him snug.

“How was… that for…” Shekh shifted, claws digging roughly against Kieran’s thigh, and took over pawing himself. The human could feel the rhythmic clenching of his tailhole around him, milking him dry, taking everything he had to give.

But Kieran didn’t quite hear him. His fingers flexed, tightened, flexed again; he gritted his teeth, set his jaw, wrenched his eyes shut-

-and Shekh managed to open his eyes and look down in time to see the changes just beginning to take place. “Ooh,” he purred, and leaned in to rest his paws across the mostly-human’s shoulders where already he felt the rippling of muscle, the stretching of skin, the shifting of bone underneath. The first few times had been certainly shocking, but now this happened with Kieran so often both on campus and in their time spent between classes that it no longer fazed him.

Not when he tossed his head back and then swung from side to side, nose and mouth stretching out as the front of his skull lengthened into the thick, broad shape of another hyena’s muzzle. Not when his neck quirked and jerked and pulled out with cords of muscle; not when he blinked unseeing, blinked again, and then fixed bright, glittering gold beast’s eyes on the suddenly smaller hyena still hilted in his lap.

His voice thickened through his growing growls, rolling, rumbling, grating. Fingernails began to dig into Shekh’s thighs; the smaller hyena lifted his wrists and moved them away before those then extended into sharp, curved claws, now pricking at the material of the couch as the knuckles bunched and bulged and stretched, tendons pulling and then snapping taut within the meaty, twisted paws. His shoulders shifted as well, roiling like disturbed earth; they tugged, shifted, pulled within the confines of his sweater, and the half-hyena gave another urgent grunt of effort.

“Is it painful?” Shekh had asked once afterwards, the still-panting, fully hyena Kieran towering over him from above. “Not… particularly?” had been the response; “Mostly… overwhelming. Not in a bad way. You’ve see, uh… what it does to me, and…”

And then there it was, the cresting wave of whatever that sensation might be: Kieran tossed his head again and then lurched forward, nearly knocking Shekh back onto the table as his shoulders bunched and back arched. The lines of his spine pressed up against his sweater from inside, the bumps of his vertebrae visible for a moment before further spans of muscle stretched in. Over and over they bunched, piling up, setting the beginning of his distinct, towering figure – and then sure enough with another flex his sweater began to tear apart right there along the center of his back, threads stretching, fraying, pulling free, and tearing along to release the black and green mane growing in underneath.

Shekh tilted his head as he watched, elbows pinned to the coffee table – and thankfully out of the way of the mugs and thermos – as Kieran continued to change before his eyes. Smooth skin similarly simmered and then sprouted first in patches, then in fields as his pelt continued to grow in, fur puffing out all across his body. The other hyena groaned, shifted, jerked again, then reached in with one suddenly massive paw to grip Shekh’s upper arm, the other one coming down to brace against his waist-

-and then a new feeling, a new sensation, down within his tailhole. His heart skipped a bit and then leapt into his throat, and before he could stop himself, Shekh pressed a paw to his muzzle to stifle a rumbling moan of pleasure. A pulse throbbed inside of him, then another, and another… and soon he squirmed around the sensation of girth growing out against his already-stretched tailhole as Kieran changed there as well. He closed his eyes, let his jaw fall open, and sighed softly: he imagined he could feel the foreskin tugging back as the shaft within pressed out, thickening, lengthening, stiffening even further, coated already in his own seed. The blunting of the head, the frenulum flattening, the movement of the sensitive rim back along the shaft… then filling out and bulging into the characteristic medial ring of an equine shaft, no stranger in feeling to this particular part of Shekh’s body.

Bit by bit he shifted and squirmed again, panting, moaning with the feeling of Kieran’s shaft sinking steadily deeper inside of him even though neither of them moved. Strong paws gripped his body to hold him down, and Shekh gladly obliged: he leaned back beneath Kieran’s hunched form and looked down across himself, chest flat, belly the same… but then seeming to shift and bulge out with each resounding throb buried inside of him, the other hyena’s shaft pulsing, growing, twitching, settling into its new, formidable size while already deep.

Try as he might to clench around the suddenly equine cock hilted beneath his tail, Shekh instead found that the muscle of his tailhole trembled and then refused to respond. He tried again, and again, and then released a shivering, breathy moan of exertion, his own shaft repeatedly bouncing against his belly under the barrage of pleasure.

“There… you are…” he breathed, seeing Kieran’s eyes clearing. The were-hyena blinked and looked down at him, his mouth hanging open, his broad, flat tongue drooping out of his mouth; he swallowed, licked his chops, released his grip on the smaller hyena, and tilted his head. “Feeling better? I was wondering if… you were going to… ah-”

But instead of respond, then, Kieran just leaned him further until Shekh’s back flattened out across the table. The wood creaked beneath both of their weight as the were-hyena shifted from the couch, legs bending, back arching. Then he pulled his hips back, just enough for Shekh to feel the smooth, slick tug of that ring of flesh slurping inside of his guts, and pressed slowly back in.

Kieran tried to speak, coughed, cleared his throat, tried again. “You wanna, um…” The movement of his hips seemed reflexive and unconscious, though his mouth quirked with the wet warmth squeezing around him. “You didn’t… finish yet. Would you wanna – go for a, uh… round two?”

“Round one and a half?” Shekh reached up, panting, and threaded his paws within Kieran’s mane. “I thought you’d never ask.”

“Well, I did,” the were-hyena rumbled, once again adjusting his position above him. “Because I… want to, um…”

Shekh giggled, the noise strained by the massive length of the hard equine shaft shoved inside of him. Thing’s gotta be fucking… squishing my lungs, right? “Good. Be my guest, I – ah-…”

Already the other male had begun, paws gripping the table as he worked his hips, thrusting in to the base and then slurping back out, then back in. Every time he tugged out he did so a little bit further, his back arching or flattening out; he closed his eyes, opened his mouth, and tilted his head back as he settled into the rhythm, quickly picking back up to where the other hyena had left off in his lap. Shekh lifted first one leg and then the other to wrap them around Kieran’s body, in part pulling him back in against him; his arms draped limp around the broad, muscular shoulders, hot damp breath puffing down across his muzzle, each thrust sending a wave of deep, resounding delight through his lower body.

And then, he couldn’t resist. Seeing his chance, he lifted up a bit, propped himself up on one elbow, drew his paw alongside Kieran’s muzzle, then tilted the other hyena in – and once again pressed lips to lips, this time feeling the much more familiar shape, the similar tongue coming in against his own, the thick fangs, the supple, succulent lips beneath his own. Kieran’s breath puffed out into his maw, sharp and rich; Shekh moaned into the kiss, legs squeezing tight, and continued to ride against one, one paw now resting across his belly where he could actually feel the progress inside of him, firm flesh pressing out at him from inside. He sucked at the kiss, swallowed, flicked his tongue out, sucked a bit more; Kieran turned his head to lock their muzzles together, fangs clacking against fangs, and swirled his tongue; Shekh shuddered, panted, moaned again, and then blinked when Kieran pulled free.

The smaller hyena wiped at his mouth. “You good?”

“Yeah, I’m…” Kieran grunted, pulled back – Shekh clenched as the medial ring slid free from his stretched tailhole – then tried to wedge it back in. “I’m good. Let me… just…” And there he continued with that rhythm, still drawing out a little further each time and then pushing back in, resistance growing as Shekh’s body adjusted. Still he lurched across the table with each thrust, now leaning back, resting one arm across his muzzle; a sweet, indulgent moan trickled out from parted lips every time Kieran pushed in, his legs spread and huge, bestial footpaws squared on the carpet. His tail lashed behind him as well, and when Shekh did open his eyes he loved looking up and seeing the lips curled back in a sweet snarl with the deadly fangs beneath, and the sharp eyes, and the way the black leather of his nose twitched with hungry breaths, and-

Kieran gasped, twitched, and then grunted as he pulled back again, the round mass of his blunted head stretching Shekh’s tailhole from inside. The smaller hyena moaned again, legs lifting, head rolling to the side; his body wanted to push, to squeeze out this soft-firm mass inside of him, but still he clenched and squeezed and tried to press himself back down onto it, already missing the sensation of the fill – but instead Kieran flopped fully free from inside of him with a thick, wet schlock, hefty shaft slumping down across the side of the table, glistening both with gathered saliva as well as the natural slickness of the inside of Shekh’s body.

“Oh – gosh – sorry, um, I’ll just…” But when he set himself in place and then pushed again, his shaft instead smeared up alongside Shekh’s own, streaking across his fur, lifting up over his belly. The resultant sensation sent a wave of pleasure through the were-hyena, which in turn made him flex, which then in turn hoisted his hard cock up towards his belly in a firm, powerful throb; Shekh licked his lips as he watched, then reached down with one paw to run his fingers over the smooth, soft velvety skin still slick and wet.

He followed the lines of veins pulsing beneath the surface, trailed over the folds and wrinkles stretched out in his arousal, felt the twitch of eagerness thrumming through his length, magnified by his recent transformation. It took only a little bit of shifting – now he could rest his footpaws on the couch behind Kieran’s massive body – to put himself even with the end of the were-hyena’s cock, dank heat emanating off of the blunted head still slick and smeared with gathered wetness. Shekh sniffed at it, smelled himself, smelled Kieran and his first load, smelled the distinct, leathery musk of his new equine equipment… and couldn’t resist flicking his tongue out to caress him.

Immediately Kieran shivered and arched his back, pushing forward just a little bit. Shekh swallowed and then lapped again, this time broadening his tongue, flattening it out; he dragged it up and across, then scooped down around the rim, then swirled in around the protruding point – the nozzle, he thought with a smirk – near the end, digging into close, hot, supple flesh. Kieran rhythmically throbbed against him, the larger hyena’s paws pressing against the table, claws digging into the surface; from where he lay Shekh could tell he struggled in holding himself back but still did so for his sake, smaller paws now running back and forth across his length, bunching the supple skin together, pressing back down.

He could taste not only his own musk, but also the smooth, salty richness of the other hyena’s – the ex-human’s – cum where he had dumped inside of him, then smeared back across himself. This warm slickness spread across his shaft, catching along the smaller hyena’s fingers and lips and tongue as he worked; he squeezed and rubbed, then dropped one slickened paw down to continue pawing at himself as he did so. Tender lips nibbled in at the end of Kieran’s shaft, tongue swirling with each little resulting spurt of pre; he swallowed again and again, drawing short breaths in through his nose so that he could smell him, then letting them right back out through lips parted against his blunted head.

Bit by bit the tension in the were-hyena began to grow once more. Shekh worked himself faster and harder as he felt the approaching second peak, stroking Kieran in rhythm with himself, though his paw could barely wrap around the full equine girth. Its weight thumped and dragged against his chin, and he parted his lips, drew him into his mouth, and held him there just as the other hyena gritted his teeth once more, arching his back, tensing his shoulders… and then the first spurt pumped out against the back of his throat so that the second could then fling the head of his cock free, flare bulging out to its full, impressive width.

Shekh moaned out with the sticky heat filling his maw, and swallowed what of it he could. Kieran’s hard cock bounced up away from him with each throb, the thick, powerful ropes of his much more voluminous load arcing out across the table and carpet beyond; Shekh watched, dazed, at the pulsing of the veins and twitching of the muscle, the way the skin stretched with each powerful throb – and then his eyes fluttered shut and he, too, jerked with the force of his own finish spraying out across his chest and belly.

Panting, he rested back across the table with Kieran’s length sagging over his shoulder, though already it had begun to retract back into his sheath. Shekh swallowed, throat sticky with the other hyena’s load, and sat up; Kieran met his eyes, breathed a little laugh, and then flopped unsteadily back onto the couch, tail pinning down underneath him.

“There,” the smaller hyena panted. He reached up to wipe at his mouth. “Now that that’s done, we can finally… focus in on the movie…” But when he glanced over to the thermos, he saw that some of Kieran’s voluminous equine load had caught in both of them, and pooled in the bottom of each. He lifted one, tilted it his way, watched the way the milky thickness rolled across itself… shrugged, and reached to pour the hot chocolate in. Wisps of white swirled and mixed among the smooth liquid. “But I haven’t really paying attention. Do you wanna start it over?”

He turned back to the sofa. Kieran had rested his head across the back of his couch and, sensing he was being watched, lifted it back up. His ears perked; he blinked; his nose twitched; he reached down and scratched a pair of fingers at the lip of his sheath, helping the thick, slick skin fold back in across itself.

“Huh? Movie? What movie?”