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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 y'all, and welcome to read my ongoing series!

If you have any thoughts about the story, please drop a comment! It'll help me to become a better writer. Faves and votes are luvv too ;)

Have a good read!

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My ears flicked with curious flair and my eyes widened briefly as I stared at the cell phone display screen. In addition to the familiar "Insert Text Here" my phone was displaying what apparently was a text message that had been began to be written but was never sent, and as such, the phone had saved it into the memory until the time came to finish it up. That tended to happen by an accidental keystroke, which wasn't such an uncommon occurrence for someone with big paws like I had.

Now the problem was that these words were not written by me.

I blinked and looked at the glowing letters on the screen again.

tx for drping by rly enjd gd times sry tht had to end so soon hve a gd 1 wishs Victor Terrence Holden aka Hockey Hunk

I blinked.

Just when did he have the time to write this down?

"Good news or bad news, man?"

I almost dropped the phone when I jumped upon Mason's sudden words. I gave him a glaring look as I flicked the phone closed and looked at the wolf who still had his iPhone on his paw.

"Whut?" I tried to speak in a normal voice despite the nasty fight or flight jolt in my heart.

"You just looked kinda...involved reading that," he tipped his muzzle towards the general direction of my paw holding my phone.

My ears flattened briefly at the wolf's nosiness but I decided to play it nice. He wasn't a bad guy, just a bit...fratboyish at times.

"Uhhh, nah, nothing," I snuffled, "just...you know, mothers...fathers..."

The young wolf's ears flattened and I even saw hint of his teeth when he grimaced.

"My mom almost had a heart attack when she saw my place last time she visited," he grunted, rolling his eyes. "She just happened to drop by on the day after the Nordic culture night. She didn't like the smell of pickled herring all over the place."

My nosepad wrinkled automatically at the thought of raw fish.

"Pickled herring?" I tempted the fate despite my mind being still on the mysterious message still hidden in my phone.

Mason nodded.

"Yeah, Haakon...umm, he's Norwegian, an exchange student lynx, that's him. Well, he had ordered that and other traditional Scandinavian goodies online for our Nordic night, "the wolf replied, his tail flicking as he related the story.

"So, we had pickled herring...with tomato sauce I think, and then we made smorgos from that stuff, and we had knäckebröd and all sorts of savory things to go with them...and of course we had six bottles of Absolut to wash it all down with."

He made a distasteful face and I suspected that the vodka had been responsible for a rather interesting morning indeed.

"And your mom came to visit just after your vodka-fuelled night with the Vikings?" I leered at him.

Mason sighed.

"She found Viktoria, that Swedish girl, sleeping in my bed with her friend Cora, and I was collapsed on the couch under that lynx Haakon," the wolf's ears flattened at the memory.

I couldn't help but chuckle.

"Soooooooo...your momma comes ringing the doorbell and finds you sleeping under a dude in your apartment littered with empty bottles of vodka and passed out students?"

"And a couple of Abba albums and the door was actually wide open, apparently," Mason rubbed his muzzle with his knuckles, his shoulders slumping down.

"Ahhhhh, student days..hope it wasn't Gimme Gimme Gimme," I batted the side of the old couch with my thick, bushy tail tip and leaned back, still smiling at him.

Mason groaned quietly.

Did one night stand with a hot Dobie count as student-like behavior? It sure was probably more fun in the long run than a vodka bash and accidental awkward homoerotic moments witnessed by moms. I wondered whether Mason had plenty of one night stands.

I also wondered about the relic of my one night stand hidden in my phone. Why had the Dobie done that? When did he fiddle with my phone anyway? Sure, it could have been any time during the night after I fell asleep, but on the other paw, I slept on top of him, and I'm pretty sure that I would have noticed if he had gotten up during the night...

"Here, I found this under the bed, someone must've uh...kicked it there..."

Yeah, right...

He must have taken the phone from my pants pocket when I was making the coffee, or something like that.

So why to do it in the first place? It's not like we agreed to meet again or anything. I'm not even sure if we wanted to. Hell yeah he was fun in bed, but it was just that, hot no-strings anal sex and a cuddle and some nice coffee in the morning. No hard feelings, and no-hardons left either. Just a little bit of fun between two easy-going, grown men wanting to enjoy the fur of another guy without the hindrance of relationship drama. It was just that. The message was probably just his way to say thank you again for the nice evening and all that entailed to it, I mean, he hadn't left me his number or anything, so that hardly counted as a come-on for another romp.

Or did he?

I flicked my phone open again and quickly opened the directory and leafed through the numbers to see if any of them looked unfamiliar. I skipped past family members, old college friends I hadn't phoned in years and Marge's number was there, too. There was also Graham, who I used to go out with in college, and I had no idea why I still kept the number in there. No, no Hockey Hunks were listed, nor Victor Holdens or Victors or Vics.

"Are you hung over, Rory?" the wolf spoke.

"Huh?" my ears flicked.

"You kinda zoned out there for a while and you did say you were going out last night..."

"Did I?" I asked, puzzled.

"Yeah, you spoke something about maybe hitting the town, yesterday when we were having coffee with Crystal."

I snuffled and gave him a little smile.

"Nah, I only had two gin tonics," I gave him a defensive paw wave. "I already told that to Marge. She wanted to hear about it too. Really exciting, right?"

"Just you or friends, too?" the wolf interrogated.

"Nah, just my charming self out there, hehe," I smiled and scratched my nearest arm for the best effect.

It did itch a bit, too. Must be all the book dust here, even the imaginary one.

"Bah, I wish I could've gone out last night, too," the wolf complained mildly, "tough luck, though."

"Uh?" I tried to sound more interested than I was.

"Yeah, Haakon was over at my place and we helped each other out a bit."

I chuckled.

"More Absolut and clandestine cuddles?" I teased him ruthlessly.

Straight boys could be so much fun at times. Especially those like Mason who were really confident about themselves. They could take a little bit of teasing of the more interesting kind.

I had to give him kudos for not lashing out to me, for the wolf simply shrugged.

"We're both taking a basic Icelandic class to go with our studies on the Scandinavian languages, and he was over at my place so that we could go through some of the stuff together. It's pain, though."

The wolf pouted and managed to look pretty cute doing that. If Mason did some gym, he could be a hunk, I was damn sure of that. He was probably too much of a geek for that, though. A shame, that, for the...boob-equipped population, I guess. Butt enthusiasts like Rory here included.

"Aren't all the Germanic languages supposed to be easy once you knew one?" I shrugged. "I mean, even much of English is the same as, say, German."

The wolf snuffled.

"Well, thinking that you're holding a mobile phone, which is a mobiltelefon in Swedish, and a Telefon in German, then, would you really know what I'm talking about if I'd ask you about your farsím , would you?" the wolf's voice gained a strange quality as he purred out the final word.

As expected, it made absolutely no sense to me.

My tailtip flicked heavily again as I admitted my defeat non-verbally.

"Told ya."

My countenance took a ponderous quality as I leaned down a little and rested my weight against an elbow pressed on my knee. The little stretch felt good.

"I knew a guy back in college who had learned Hungarian," I offered as a kind of a "but it can be done, don't give up!!!" kind of a placation over his worries. "And even he admitted that it was like learning Japanese, but without the strange writing, of course."

Mason didn't look any happier for it.

"Did he know Japanese, too, by any chance?" he grunted, ears flat.

"I dunno," I confessed.

He sure didn't speak when he had his muzzle around my cock, but that's not something Mason needed to know. His linguistics skills were awesome by all counts.

"Gahh...," the wolf grumbled.

It was more like ahhhhhhhhhh....and followed by lots of growling and spooge and it was horny and it was fantastic for all the two minutes it lasted on the back seat of a Jetta.

"Well at least you've got that native speaker friend of yours helping you out," I smiled hopefully, trying to shake away both the wolf's sour mood and ward away an unwanted erection.

God, that's such an oxymoron.

An unwanted erection.

Right, I must've become old at some point and nobody warned me about it.

Sigh.

"Y'know, he speaks better English than some of the American furs in the class," Mason mused.

"Really now?"

"Yeah, and he has a British accent, kinda."

"No way," I chuckled.

"Said he learned all of his English from watching BBC shows."

"I love those!" I suggested with a cat grin. "They show 'em on PBS all the time."

"I only watch HBO," the wolf's ears flicked.

"Then you've missed tons," I smirked, "it shows bad enthusiasm as an English student too, not to watch stuff like...ummm...yeah, Brideshead Revisited! They had a rerun only last spring or so, it was great! Everyone's damn posh, and nothing happens, but you still watch it like you're hypnotized."

Well, it was a bit of stretching the truth. Judging by his non-reaction, Mason didn't know about the nude sunbathing and various other scenes that were worth the Unresolved Homosexual Tension of the Century Award.

Ugh, why did I have to keep thinking about butt sex all the time today?

"I kinda prefer Dexter for relaxation, not dress-up-make-believe drama," Mason snuffled.

Maybe I'm thinking about butt sex because I had so damn much of it only about 12 hours earlier. I'd probably have sore balls for days as a result, but it was so worth it. I felt an urge to scratch my crotch but I was pretty sure that Mason would not approve of such action here at the coffee room.

"Blood and guts, then," I smirked and took a sip of my semi-forgotten coffee and found it to be almost cold.

I made a "gah" -face and realized that I was still holding the phone and I still hadn't sent mom that text.

Victor's surprise message still haunted the phone, too, right there where I was supposed to write the "I'm okay, mom" message and some extra promises of being a really good boy and not doing anything stupid.

Mason yawned and pulled out MP3 earplugs from his pocket and plugged them into his iPhone, a sure signal that he was about to leave the world of the living for a little bit of a music bash.

I decided not to bother with the remainder of the stale coffee that had no standing to Victor the Dobie's coffee, and got up and scratched my hip. I stuffed my phone into my pocket and ditched the coffee to the sink before slinking my way back to the shop.

Downstairs was still mostly deserted. Not even the geeky lion with his B+ butt was there, so I assumed that he had found his lost civilization and already checked out with Marge. I did see some old grizzled German Shepherd going through the Nostalgic Books for Baby Boomers shelf with careful slowness that indicated either Parkinson's or a hip joint replacement in his step. He seemed to be happy enough just browsing for nothing in particular so I decided to not to harass the geezer and instead made my way upstairs to the wonderful world of contemporary novels.

I must've been gone only for about half an hour or so, but things had definitely picked up. There were a few more kids, and the two vixens were still browsing the Harlequin section, as far as I could see from their oversized winter clothes, and Marge was just serving a zebra who, judging from the backpack and the stack of books on the counter was yet another fine student from the college.

I gave Marge's ankles a little tap from my playful tail as I slipped to my place behind the counter and plastered my public service kitten smile on my muzzle. The cougar woman replied with her own swipe against my calves and gave me a wink as she safely deposited the zebra's money into the cash register and handed him his student union card back.

"Just want and see and you're cracking the secrets of the DNA with the help of these," she joked for the zebra as she slipped out a plastic bag and packed the hefty tomes into it with practiced precision.

Marge always knew which side to put the books in to make them all fit.

She was good like that.

"Here we go!" the cougar purred and lifted the heavy bag over the counter.

"Thanks," the zebra said and looked at Marge's boobs while Marge was checking out the cash register.

I grabbed one of the glossy brochures from the precarious stand on the counter and smiled toothily.

"Please don't forget this Albrecht Brothers Winter Sale Special that includes an exclusive five-dollar discount voucher for purchases over 50 dollars!" I waved the brochure madly in my extended paw.

The zebra's tail jerked behind him and his eyes turned to me, the madly smiling lion.

"Uhhh, umm..ohh, right...yeah...thanks."

"Thank you for shopping at the Albrecht Brothers, hope you come again soon!" I beamed.

The zebra grabbed the slip of glossy paper and pushed it into the red carrier bag before disappearing through the security gates. I smirked and winked for Marge.

"What's that for?" the cougar demanded.

"I just saw him giving a really good browse of your upper shelf is all," I smirked, "thought I'd make sure he doesn't miss the Albrecht Brothers Winter Sale Special."

Marge just shrugged and tugged at the hem of her shirt, making herself appear even more voluptuous than usual.

"What can I say, Rory? They're bestsellers."

My tail made a quick "8" behind me in the air as I chuckled.

"Yeah, some nice double quartos you've got there," I smirked.

Marge's teeth were flashed.

"Uh huh, I think these do go for the folio size and prime leather back binding," she spoke dirtily, releasing the hem of her shirt and something else in the process as well.

My eyes did an involuntary metronomic movement up and down before Marge settled and I settled as well and she turned to her cash register again.

I sure had enjoyed some folio size rump last night, with very fine dark leather binding indeed. Not that there was anything wrong about Marge's folios either, they were just...kind of in the wrong place for my tastes. I bet the zebra really needed to carry those books in front of him when he left.

I, on the other paw, had to resort to simply standing really close to the counter as I felt the beast stirring within its fuzzy Victor-shampoo-bathed nest.

Marge got his shelf back into order as a husky entered the store and gave that long, longing look around that meant that he had not visited us before. The cougar was in for a kill before I had the chance to open my maw.

"Good day, sir, how can you help today with your purchases?"

The husky looked at her and did an admirably good job at not going for the boobs.

"Hello," the doggie growled.

Marge kept her brave smile up.

"Anything you've particularly in mind, sir?"

I was already reaching for one of the Winter Special brochures but got my paw swatted away by a rabidly smiling Marge. She had her claws out for it, too, and for a little while I feared for my uniform shirt.

"Well, I was wondering if you had books about dinosaurs, suitable for a cub of about six," the daddy husky spoke cutely sheepishly.

"Is it a girl or a boy?" Marge piped up.

"A boy, he's six, uh...his name's Cooper..." the husky replied.

"Hmmm...," Marge rubbed her creamy chin thoughtfully, "Let me see...Dora the Explorer Meets Wilma the Velociraptor might be a little bit too simple for him..."

"Well he really is into dinosaurs and keeps watching programs about them on the PBS and all that stuff."

"Does he read yet?"

"Yeah, uh...I think so." the husky frowned.

"The books in the paleontology section might be a bit too heavy for the little guy but I think that the Young Explorers section over there..."her paw made the necessary wave, "we've got Dorling Kindersley books there on dozens of subjects, I am quite sure that there is one about dinosaurs, too, that should be just perfect for the discriminating client."

"Uhh...over there?" the husky pointed towards the generally more colorful direction of the kids' section.

"Right there, sir" Marge smiled from ear to ear.

"Thank you, miss."

The doggie wandered away, tail waving as his eyes moved around. I was pretty sure that he was going to get lost even before he reached Do It Yourself section.

Marge rattled the glass tabletop.

"You leering at married guys today, too?" I chuckled.

"He could be a hot young single dad, too," she suggested.

"You don't have any evidence to support that."

"Oh, yeah?" she smirked.

I barely had the time to open my maw to say something witty when a dark shape appearing in the corner of my field of vision stopped me.

Ohhhh shiiiiit...

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There we go...yet another gruffhanger, everyone!

Stay tuned for another chapter sooner or later.

If you have any comments, please! It'll help me to become a writer.

Cheerio!