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William Donatti and Victor Morrisey sat before their lieutenant's desk. The big, burly moose was furious and in one of his nastier moods. The seasoned Morrisey weathered Pullbrook's temper easily, as he was used to him. The middle-aged badger detective had been with him long enough that his temper didn't faze him one little bit.

William was more on the uneasy side. The blonde-haired, gray squirrel detective was no rookie, but after a certain incident a few months earlier where Pullbrook had invented a particularly creative method of punishing the younger detective for being late one morning, William felt utterly violated just looking at his lieutenant.

"Vore!" cried Lieutenant Pullbrook. "Of all the weird, fucked up things people are getting into these days..." he trailed off. He took a deep breath and scratched his head. "Christ, I thought I'd seen all manner of perversions in my time, but this takes the cake!"

The object of all three men's attention was a series of black and white photographs spread out on the desk, depicting an attractive teenage female wolf who was lying on her back on the floor, her stomach so swollen she seemed to be several months pregnant. But considering she was now in custody, William knew what was really inside that belly. It had been her boyfriend. A woodchuck. Named Chuck, ironically enough. It seemed that vore, the peculier sexual fetish wherein one person was eaten by another, was no longer limited to the back rooms of various seedy clubs. It was out in the open and even being debated in court as to whether it was even legal.

Apparently, Chuck's girlfriend had decided to try it for herself. She claimed it had been with his consent. Nonetheless, she had been arrested for his murder. The case was making quite a stir in the news. Past cases involving accidentally fatal vore had been hushed up and kept quiet even as the matter was going through the courts, with a verdict to be reached by year's end. But this one was unavoidable.

"I thought we'd moved beyond this kind of stoneage eating each other bullshit," said Pullbrook as he examined a photo. The wolf was topless and it was obvious to William that the Lieutenant was eyeing her tits. "We have restaurants for Christ's sake!" Having gotten a good enough look at the suspect's mammaries he threw the picture down. "Nobody has to eat anybody for food anymore!"

"That's true," Morrisey said. He cleared his throat, nervous about what he was going to say next. "But that isn't why they do it." When Pullbrook didn't reply, Morrisey said, "It's, well, for fun. For sexual kicks."

Lieutenant Pullbrook frowned. "People eating each other... for kicks. Fucking glorified snuff!" he roared.

This time it was William who spoke. It was the first time he'd spoke in the Lieutenant's presence in weeks, due to his unsavory memories of Pullbrook forcing him to kneel and open his mouth. But he didn't like people getting the wrong impression, so when Pullbrook said that, the squirrel was quick to add, "Actually, sir, many times the victims survive it. Don't ask me how, but some of the so-called 'preds' have the ability to, well... revive their victims."

Pullbrook glared at him. "Even after digesting them?" he asked.

William swallowed. "Apparently, yes," he said. He felt stupid just saying it. Even though many people claimed to have woken up in strange places and later remembered being eaten, and outright claimed to have been devoured and then brought back to life by their predator, it sounded like bad science fiction.

"He's right," said Morrisey. "In fact, the claim that sometimes the, uh, prey can be revived afterward is one of the big issues up for debate in court." He gave a hearty chuckle. "God only knows how they'll demonstrate it. Maybe they'll actually bring in someone to gobble up that asshole Kendrick."

William actually laughed at that. Kendrick was the prickish D.A. in Burrow City, and had been a problem for the detectives in the past. Although ostensibly on their side, he tended to be narrowminded in his focus and looked down his nose at cops. William knew also that the city was taking the anti-vore stance, which would make Kendrick getting eaten by a witness for the defense quite ironic. Especially if what they said about reforming was true.

"Enough of this bullshit," said Pullbrook, collecting the photos and sticking them into a file folder. "We've got more important matters to deal with!"

They nodded. This case with the wolf girl had been sprung on them unexpectedly while they were in the midst of trying to solve most recent double homicide that had left two male prostitutes dead. One, known only as "Martini" on the streets, had been a nobody. The big problem was the second victim. Mayor Archer Slatterly's oldest son, Goddard, who had, in a fit of teenage rebellion against his father, taken to turning tricks for fun on the side. The young ferret and his friend had picked the wrong dark blue Mercedes to climb into one night, and now Mayor Slatterly was breathing down their necks to find the killer.

William said, "This, uh, Bourbon fellow... the other hooker guy who was sort of a double act with Martini, he still has narrowed down exactly what model Mercedes it was that his friend and Slatterly's kid got into. Just that it was a Mercedes and blue."

"Big help he turned out to be," grumbled Morrisey. "But at least we know what type of car we should be looking for."

The blue Mercedes had also been linked to a triple homicide that occurred earlier the same night. Co Dan, a notorious crime lord, was found dead along with his two bodyguards in their hotel room. An apparent hit. A dark blue Mercedes had been seen arriving and then leaving the hotel, and the clerk said Co Dan had a visitor, but couldn't remember who. William was interested in looking into that.

He wasn't lacking in sympathy for Martini and Slatterly's kid, but he was of the opinion that Co Dan had been the actual target of the killer or killers, with the prostitutes murdered later as an afterthought. So far he'd failed to convince Pullbrook of this theory, though, and with Slatterly constantly pestering them - which was understandable - Co Dan's murder was being ignored while they focused entirely on Goddard's. But so far they'd found no leads beyond corroborating Bourbon's claim that the blue Mercedes had been seen in the red light district before. A common sight in fact, until recently.

The phone rang. Grumbling in annoyance, the big moose leaned over and picked it up. "Pullbrook," he said boredly. There was a pause. William assumed it was Slatterly yelling at him again. The Lieutenant blinked. "What? Who is this?" he demanded, and then motioned for William and Morrisey to leave suddenly.

Without hesitation the two rose and left the office, walking to their desks. For the next five minutes they sat and watched through the half-open blinds as Lieutenant Pullbrook had a very heated but inaudible conversation with his caller. Whoever it was, William realized quickly it wasn't Mayor Slatterly.

"So, uh, any plans for this evening?" asked Morrisey by way of making small talk.

Taking his eyes off of the Lieutenant's office, William turned and looked at his partner. "Oh, uh, not really."

He was telling the truth. Although he and Jeff were essentially going steady now, his young lover had said earlier that morning he had something to do and wouldn't be home until late. William had decided it was better not to ask. He suspected Jeff sold drugs, or something like that, but had never pressed the issue. His biggest worry was that Jeff was a male prostitute. He didn't want the light of his life to end up on some morgue slab like Slatterly's son.

"All right, then, how about we go and get absolutely fucking drunk as soon as we're off duty?" Morrisey suggested. The badger grinned.

"You get drunk," said William with a smile. "I'll watch and laugh at you when you try and hit on the waitresses."

The sound of the door opening made them turn, and they watched as Lieutenant Pullbrook came storming out of his office, pulling his jacket on. He pointed at Morrisey with such ferocity that the badger actually flinched. "I've got someplace to go," he said, his voice quavering. "Something's come up. You're in charge for the rest of the shift, Sergeant."

He was acting weird. He was clearly furious, but not at them. Morrisey nodded and then with a sideways glance at William which made the squirrel uncomfortable, Pullbrook turned and strode off in a big hurry.

"Well, uh, since I'm in charge, I guess... we call it a night?" the older detective said after a moment.

The younger thought it over. Not what he'd do in Morrisey's place, but after witnessing Pullbrook's mysterious behavior and uncharacteristically directionless anger, he was weirded out enough that the prospect of blowing the rest of the shift off was appealing to him. Nevertheless, his sense of duty prevailed. "You go on," he said, "I'll hold the fort. Have a good time."

"Fine, your loss," said Morrisey. He got up and left.

Sighing, William wondered if he was the only one of the senior members of his squad who actually cared about police work and catching criminals. Morrisey was growing slow and lazy in his advancing years, more inclined to let certain things slide despite his more puritanical outlook on the world.

Pullbrook was essentially every stereotypical police boss cliche from the movies all rolled into one hopelessly unreal-yet-real parody of what a good lieutenant ought to be. He seemed more interested in finding new reasons to be angry than in getting anything done. God, how William hated him for that "incident." He may be gay, and what Pullbrook had forced him to do hadn't been anything he wouldn't have done otherwise, but done against his will that way... it was something William wasn't likely to forgive.

Working up the nerve to rat him out to the I.A.B. was more difficult than it seemed, though. For one thing, cops weren't supposed to tell on other cops, Internal Affairs Bureau or no. And secondly, Pullbrook, while cartoonish, was such a forceful personality, and William's memory of the incident so clear that he wondered whether he could dig up the courage to openly accuse him. Besides, Pullbrook was a seasoned lieutenant on the force, and, although he had been divorced twice, was at least not openly homosexual... in sharp contrast to the openly gay, single William, whose accusation might look like slander if Internal Affairs opted to side with Pullbrook against him. Not everyone was as accepting of William's sexuality as Morrisey.

His mind turned to the Co Dan murder again, and his theory about its connection to their current case. He was certain that whoever had killed Co Dan and his men had then driven to the red light district and fucked and wasted the two innocent prostitutes as some kind of sick, celebratory fun. Although Pullbrook didn't believe him, William was positive that the solution to Slatterly's son's murder was found in the identity of Co Dan's final visitor. His apparent killer.

William needed to find out who had visited him and left in the blue Mercedes. Deciding that investigating this aspect of the case was the best way to not only solve Goddard Slatterly's murder but also stick it to Pullbrook, William rose and walked over to Richard Smillie's desk nearby.

"Smillie," he said, "give me everything you have on this Co Dan guy."

The mallard blinked. "But Pullbrook said..."

"I know what Pullbrook said. He says lots of things. Including the fact Morrisey is in charge. But since Morrisey cut and headed for the closest place that sells booze as soon as Pullbrook was out of sight, that technically puts me in charge."

"Uh, right," said Smillie. He looked confused. With a sigh, he got a folder out of his desk drawer and handed it over. "If the Lieutenant asks--"

"Don't worry, I'll take all the heat," said William grabbing the folder. And a lot more, he theorized. If Pullbrook had forced him to suck his cock for being late, the squirrel could only imagine what the moose would do to him for sticking his nose into a case he'd been told to stay away from. "Thanks."

Rather than return to his desk, he put the folder into a leather briefcase, pulled on his trenchcoat, and walked out with the case in hand. Yes, he was leaving, just as Pullbrook and Morrisey had before him. But unlike them he was leaving on police business. He had a hotel clerk to speak to again.

~*~

It was late. The sun was starting to set as Pullbrook's vintage Cadillac, a car he could afford thanks to taking various bribes over the years, pulled through the open wrought-iron gate and up a slightly inclined gravel driveway to a huge two-story turn of the century house. As he pulled to a stop at the top of the driveway, he briefly wondered whether this was the right address. Then he noticed the blue Mercedes-Benz sitting off to one side. No, this was the place, all right. He cut the engine and got out. After feeling his concealed snubnose Smith & Wesson to reassure himself it was where it ought to be, he went to the front door and knocked.

It was answered by a young but dour-looking rabbit in a conservative black business suit. He had one ear pierced. Without a word, he opned the door further and gestured for Pullbrook to enter. He did so. The house was a palace. Expensive furniture, modern mixed with antique, was in evidence everywhere. He stood in a great front hall with banners depicting a stylized "F" symbol. Ahead were a set of stairs leading up. To his right, a dimly lit room through which he thought he could see a meeting table and a large saltwater aquarium. To the left was a living room. Two small rabbit children were playing some kind of Nintendo racing game on a bigscreen TV. One of them, the older one, was chubby and had black hair. The other, younger one had red hair.

"This way," the rabbit in the black suit said, and gestured.

Pullbrook followed him to the right and past the stairs and down a long tiled hallway behind the stairs which had not been visible when he first entered. He tried making small talk as they went.

"You the butler?" he asked.

"No, he died," said the rabbit. "I'm the chauffeur."

"Oh," said Pullbrook, and frowned.

This hallway opened into a large glassed-in garden at the back of the house. A veritable jungle of plants surrounded a huge cobblestone patio, and here at last Pullbrook beheld his hosts and the people he hoped to do business with. The apparent master of the house was a very old but still vital-looking rabbit with shoulder-length red hair. He was enormous. Even sitting, he looked giant. His massive frame was offset by a dainty-looking bowtie. Beside him was a shorter, somewhat younger rabbit in a suit with raked-back black hair and purple-tinted glasses. Pullbrook knew who they were immediately.

The chauffeur announced him. "Lieutenant Pullbrook of the Burrow Heights Police Department, sirs and madam."

Pullbrook thought this formal tone coming from such a young rabbit was humorous and couldn't resist a little chuckle. The "madam" was directed at a female clydesdale horse who wasn't standing but instead lying lazily on a satin-cushioned couch off to one side. The moose took a gulp of surprise. The red-haired rabbit was big, but this woman, whoever she was, was bigger. Much bigger. Even for a horse of her type. She looked like one of those female bodybuilder types; all thick body and supple muscle, looking slightly out of place in her expensive silk evening gown, which was slit scandalously up past her hip, exposing her bare thigh. Pullbrook undressed her with his eyes lecherously, momentarily overlooking the fact she could probably rip him apart like balsa wood if she wanted.

"Have a care, Lieutenant," said the black-haired rabbit. His tone was one of great offense. "That's my wife. Please keep your wandering eyes to yourself."

He looked away, blushing hotly despite his annoyance at being spoken to like that. "Sorry," he managed to force himself to say.

"It's all right, Alex," said the horse with a tiny smirk. "I kind of like the attention." Her voice had a trace of an accent Pullbrook couldn't quite place. She flicked her tongue in the moose's direction with a giggle, earning an annoyed glare from her husband.

"Indeed," said the redhead, standing to his full towering height. "The Lieutenant merely has a healthy sexual appetite. Perhaps we can find something for him to taste later on." Looking at the chauffeur, he said, "Thank you, Dorian, that will be all. See to it that my grandsons finish their game and get washed up for dinner, will you?"

Dorian, the chauffeur, nodded and clicked his heels, then turned and strode off the way he'd come. Pullbrook watched him go and then turned as the big rabbit walked over and stood before him. With a sudden swiftness that Pullbrook wasn't anticipating, he thrust his hand inside of the moose's jacket, and before the Lieutenant knew what was happening, his Smith & Wesson was dislodged from his shoulder holster and in his host's hand. He turned the gun, tiny to him, over in his big hands, and then looked at the moose directly in the eye.

"You know who I am," he said. It was a statement, not a question.

"Yes," the moose replied. "Big Ben Fletcher."

"To what do I owe the pleasure?" Ben asked.

"We, uh, we spoke on the phone."

"And you came out here?" said Ben, still holding the gun, turning and walking back over to the black-haired rabbit. "Whatever for? Surely we discussed everything there was to discuss over the phone."

Pullbrook felt nervous now that he'd been disarmed. And worried. Since no one knew where he'd gone, then these people, who had doubtlessly killed before, would have no trouble of disposing of him if they felt so inclined. The amount of unsolved crimes surrounding the Fletcher family was enough to make even the most hardened cop weak-kneed. And yet Pullbrook was resolute. More resolute than when he'd first arrived, because, disarmed as he was, he could either get what he wanted or die trying... or just simply die. He wasn't a moose who backed down easily. After all, how else had he paid for his Cadillac?

"Well, it's just... it's kind of a tall order," said Pullbrook finally. "One that commands a tall price."

"Ooooh!" said the horse. She sat forward, the couch creaking audibly. "I like this one. He's got big balls."

"Can't be bigger than yours, my dear," said Alex with a chuckle. Pullbrook frowned, uncertain of what that meant.

"Quiet," said Ben. "My daughter-in-law has a point, though, Lieutenant. It takes big balls to come into my house after I directly threaten you personally and demand money from me."

"Who said--" Pullbrook began.

"What else could you have possibly meant?" said Ben chidingly. "The greed is written all over your face." He opened the cylinder of the revolver, examining the bullets, considering things for a moment. "But it also takes forethought and initiative. two qualities I rather admire. All right, Lieutenant, name your price."

Pullbrook smiled and said, "Two million in cash. Now."

"Not now," said Ben, snapping the revolver cylinder shut suddenly. "Later. After I'm satisfied that the investigation into the death of Mayor Slatterly's son and that of the Chinaman are dropped as unsolved... and concluded to be unrelated issues. Do I make myself clear?"

Pullbrook nodded.

"Good!" said Ben, and came over again. "I look forward to doing business with you in the future, Lieutenant." He held the gun, handle out, towards its owner, but as Pullbrook grabbed it, he tightened his grip on the barrel crushingly, preventing the moose from pulling it back just yet. "Just remember this. If you ever come armed like this into my son's home again, you'll leave the house missing a finger for every bullet you have with you. And I believe this is a six-shooter..."

Pullbrook frowned and jerked the gun back, and slid it into his holster. "It was only a precaution..."

"Nevertheless," said Ben, "I consider it a great insult." His mood brightened instantly. "Now, then, Lieutenant, how about that treat?"

"Treat?" asked Pullbrook, blinking, and then remembered what had been said about giving him something to taste. Visions of hookers danced in his head and the moose felt his pants starting to tighten a little. It was a tempting offer, but the less time he spent here at this house, the better. "Uh, no thanks, Mr. Fletcher. I appreciate the offer immensely, but I really must be going."

"Quite," said Ben. "You can't be away from the precinct for too long, and all that. Well, then, Lieutenant, I bid you good evening and hope to see you again."

"I can find my own way out, if that's all right with you."

The tall rabbit nodded. He left quickly. These people gave him the creeps. On the drive back a few minutes later, he thought about what to do. It would be easy, he figured, to get his detectives off the cases. He could redirect their efforts to the vore epidemic or some other related case. Getting Slatterly off his back was going to be altogether more difficult. But for two million dollars extra he could stand being yelled at by the Mayor.

~*~

William Donatti entered the lobby of the Harrison Hotel. It was on the small side but still quite ritzy, popular with tourists and vacationing foreigners. It was night time now and as a result the lobby was mostly empty and as he approached the front desk and beheld the clerk, he immediately knew it wasn't the same one who he'd been on duty the night Co Dan was killed. That had been a male opossum named Clark Reynold according to the report, this one was a female lemur whose nametag read Cindi.

He sighed and debated whether or not to go home and come back tomorrow, but decided he ought to at least ask whether Reynold was working tonight. Putting on his best winning smile, he came up to the desk.

"Good evening," he said.

"Hello," she said, "welcome to Harrison's." Apparently with his long coat she took him to be a traveler checking in. He quickly flashed his detective shield however and her mood changed. "How can I help you, officer?"

"Is Clark Reynold working tonight?" asked William.

Cindi frowned and shook her head. "No," she said. William eyed her, looking for any signs that she might be lying. He could detect none. Fishing a card with his name and phone number on it, he handed it to her and she took it. "Well, if he comes in tomorrow or whenever, tell him to give me a call at that number, please."

"All right," said Cindi.

"Thanks," William said, and turned to leave.

He felt defeated. It was unlikely Reynold would call. But then, he could always return tomorrow and surprise him, catching the opossum off guard. He found that suspects and witnesses aliked tended to answer questions more truthfully if taken by surprise publicly without having time to prepare themselves for a police interview. It made it easier for the squirrel to detect whether or not they were lying.

Getting back into his police-issue Dodge Diplomat he turned the engine over and frowned when it stalled out. Piece of shit. He'd been bugging the department to issue him a new car, but hadn't gotten a reply. And now the over ten-year old car had finally died on him. Getting out, he kicked the front tire and debated popping the hood to examine the engine before realizing he knew nothing about cars.

"Fuck!" he grumbled.

A cold wind whipped up and he bundled his trenchcoat tighter around himself. He took out his cell phone. He hated the things, but it was police policy that detectives carry them. First he dialed the number of a garage he knew and arranged for a tow truck to come and get the Diplomat. Then, he called a taxi. It took its sweet time getting there, but eventually the yellow cab pulled up, and after retrieving the briefcase from his own vehicle he slid into the backseat, told the driver the address of his apartment building, and off they went.

~*~

When he got home, he found the apartment empty. Jeff wasn't home. He felt a twang of worry and after taking off his trenchcoat and tossing it and the briefcase down onto the sofa, left and went down the hall to the Strouden apartment. Tentatively he knocked. Through the door he heard the sounds of groaning followed by a loud curse of anger, and then the door flew open, revealing a big, muscular rabbit with a neatly-trimmed beard, unashamedly naked. His rather large cock hung half-erect between his legs and William's eyes reflexively went down to it momentarily.

"Hey, my eyes are up here, faggot!" Michael Strouden growled. "What do you want?"

William averted his gaze and cooly met the eyes of his lover's father, tight-lipped and angry at the word, but keeping his temper in check. He was immediately regretting doing this. Michael Strouden knew nothing about his son's relationship with the older squirrel, or at least had no proof. Asking about Jeff, whether he was here or not, was a bad idea. It would only fuel Michael's suspicions. So instead, William lied. And he was a good liar.

"I was coming down the hall and heard loud noises. Considering your history of domestic violence, I was just popping around to make sure nothing was amiss."

Michael stared at him numbly for a moment. Behind him, in the darkened apartment, William could see a chocolate-furred female rabbit covering herself with a bedsheet. Nichelle, he remembered her name was.

"Well that loud noise you heard was me fucking my girlfriend, Detective," said Michael finally with a smirk. "Maybe if you stuck it to some pussy now and then instead of other guys you'd know what a woman in pleasure sounds like and not mistake it for domestic abuse!"

William clenched a fist, making his knuckles pop, but again held his temper in check. "My mistake. Better safe than sorry, eh?"

"I guess," said Michael uncertainly.

"It's all right, Detective," said Nichelle, "we were just, well, y'know... like Michael says."

"Shut up and get back in the bedroom," grumbled Michael, and, after she timidly departed, he turned and glowered at the squirrel. "And as for you, get lost!"

He slammed the door in William's face. William stood there momentarily staring at the apartment number on the door as he heard the fun resume, louder this time. Michael Strouden sure liked rubbing it in that he was banging his girlfriend. As he turned and began to head back to his own apartment, wishing he didn't live on the same floor as such a homophobic bigot, he heard a voice behind him.

"Looking for me?" William turned. Jeff stoof there, in his black shirt, baggy jeans and mismatched sneakers, a large duffel bag slung over his shoulder, a lit cigarette insolently drooping from his lips, which were half smiling. "Don't bother asking my dad about me. He's an asshole. Even if I was there, he would've lied and told you I wasn't."

"How did you know that's what I came to ask about?" William took a tentative step towards him but hesitated.

"Because," said Jeff, walking over and taking a little drag off of the cancer stick. "Why else would you knock on my dad's door at this hour? I told you I had business and wouldn't be back until late. I really wish you'd trust me and quit worrying about me so much."

William smiled sheepishly and shook his head. "I was just worried is all. I care about you so much."

"What's wrong?" asked Jeff, noticing William's hesitation, taking the cigarette out of his mouth. "Afraid to kiss me out here in the hall? You care about me so much, French me, baby, I've had a long day." When William glanced at the door of the Strouden apartment, Jeff laughed. "Fuck him. He's too busy fucking Nichelle. He won't hear anything. Besides it's not like we're gonna fuck. Just kiss me."

With a sigh, William smiled and came forward, scooping the teenager into his arms and planting his lips against the rabbit's pierced ones and kissing him deeply. Jeff's lips parted and admitted the squirrel's tongue past those delicate lips to slide over his young lover's, their mouths pressed together tightly. Mindful of his cigarette, Jeff threw his arms around the older squirrel and hugged him back as they kissed. They went away into their own little world for a few moments, ignoring the constant sounds of sex coming from through the wall, and when their lips finally parted, Jeff smirked and winked at William and then gestured for him to come on.

"I think I'm staying at your place again. I don't care if my dad starts getting suspicious. I'm not walking in on him and Nichelle again. Nichelle's a nice enough gal but watchin' my dad go at it with her is like somethin' out of a fuckin' horror movie."

William led the way and the two went inside his apartment. The door closing effectively shut out the noise of Michael and Nichelle's antics down the hall and William sighed gratefully. The two went about their usual "coming home" routine.

Jeff shrugged off his duffel bag and it thumped noisily to the floor near the couch. They made small talk. William told him about the breakdown and about his lieutenant being difficult as usual. Jeff said little about his own day, and as usual William didn't press him. Jeff went in the bathroom. While he pissed, William undid and removed his bowtie and undoing his shirt collar, freeing his neck for the evening . He kept his shoulder holster on, but removed and unloaded his Glock, sticking it in his bedside table drawer, and then sat on the bed waiting for Jeff. When the rabbit finished pissing he came back out, still smoking.

"What have I told you about smoking in the apartment?" asked William, sounding much like a stern parent. He knew that Jeff only did it to test him. Jeff liked testing his patience.

Jeff chuckled. "Not to do it." He took a few drags for emphasis. His open rebellion against his boyfriend. But then he conceded and, turning, tossed the cigarette into the toilet, where it was extinguished with a soft "pish."

Jeff then pulled off his black shirt and flung it aside and stood there barechested, his underwear visible due to how low his pants hung down over his hips. Stuffing his hands into his pockets, he sauntered over and got down on his knees before the squirrel, and smirked up at him. William smiled down at his black-haired lover.

"What say I make you moan the way my dad is making Nichelle moan?" Jeff suggested. The squirrel sighed and wished hadn't mentioned what was going on in the other apartment. Jeff's father having sex wasn't what William wanted on his mind while he was horny. "Why should they be the only ones having fun tonight? You've had a hard day, I guess, so let me take care of you, Billy boy."

His hands flew out of his pockets and grasped hold of William's belt. The squirrel grunted and the nimble teenage hands unbuckled the belt, and popped the top button of his slacks, which were already tenting with his arousal. Pulling the zipper down and parting his tucked in dress shirt, the rabbit leaned in and sniffed, inhaling his boyfriend's musky male scent deeply, kissing and licking over the cockbulge in William's underwear. Then he roughly seized them and yanked them down off of William's maleness so that they bunched up underneath his balls, his cock flying up and slapping against his shrt-covered tummy. William gasped and Jeff opened wide and slid his mouth over that aching member, and began to suckle gently.

William leaned back on his palms and gave his hips a few little bucks in response to Jeff's efforts, groaning softly as the younger rabbit started picking up the pace, corkscrewing his muzzle up and down the now thoroughly saliva-soaked cock. Through lidded eyes he looked up William's body, watching his facial expressions. Every time he sensed that his lover was close, the black-haired teen backed off and let him cool down. William meekly protested, but Jeff wouldn't hear any of it. After a moment the rabbit resumed his work, sucking down the squirrel cock greedily again, and once more heated William to his desired temperature. He loved tormenting his boyfriend in this manner. And despite his protests, William loved it, too. It made the eventual orgasm all the sweeter.

Up and down went the black-haired head, tongue slathering and slurping along the underside of the painfully hard cock, his blunt lepine buck teeth gently scraping over the sensitive flesh and making the squirrel detective cry out in joy. Jeff backed off again, and gave a teasing lick to the cockhead, making the member twitch and squirt a tiny bit of pre. William panted and looked down, confused, and then watched as Jeff pulled off his dress shoes one by one and then grabbed his pants by the waistline and yanked them roughly down and off of his legs along with his underwear, leaving the squirrel in just shirt, socks and shoulder holster. These Jeff ignored and stood.

William touched himself, slowly and gently playing with his own member as he watched Jeff. The rabbit unbuttoned his baggy jeans which were so loose on him they dropped instantly without needing to be pushed down. He stepped out of them, wearing just his usual high cut bikini briefs, which he then teasingly slid off, revealing his erect young cock. He was still wearing his sneakers. When a feral cry he leaped over onto the bed, forcing himself on top of the squirrel, kissing him deeply, their erect, dripping cocks rubbing together as Jeff pinned William down. Once more, the teenage boy took total command in bed.

"Roll over," Jeff said breathlessly into William's mouth between kisses. "I wanna fuck you up the ass tonight." He sat back up on his knees, getting off of William.

Willaim did as instructed and rolled over onto his stomach and thereafter rose to his hands and knees, exposing his taut rear end to his lover. His bushy tail lashed around excitedly, and Jeff grinned at the sight before repositioning himself behind the older squirrel. He placed the head of his throbbing maleness under that bushy tail and pressed it against the squirrel's entrance and then leaned over so that he was lying on William's back, their faces side by side.

"Ready for me?" he asked softly.

"Yes," William managed to gasp out.

With a grin, the rabbit thrust his hips forwards and the head of his cock was pushed past William's tight anal ring. The squirrel cried out in bliss. Jeff bucked his hips, working more of himself deeper into his older lover, the tight muscles slowly swallowing up every inch of the young cock until Jeff's black pubes came flush with the base of William's tail. He took a moment to let both of them catch their breath and adjust, but fortunately since this was far from their first time, they didn't need long to recover, and with a nod from the squirrel, the rabbit began, pulling back his hips and thrusting them forwards again, earning gutteral, deep-throated moans from the blonde squirrel.

As he fucked William, the rabbit slid one strong arm around the squirrel's middle, hugging William to himself as they made love, using his other hand to brace himself against the bed. The hand hugging William stroked down over his chest, undoing his shirt buttons one by one daintily as the squirrel's body rocked back and forth from the rabbit's hard pounding. Soon the shirt hung open and Jeff stroked over his lover's broad chest and trim stomach, and then the hand slid over to grope at the freely dangling, still hard squirrel cock, grabbing hold of it and beginning to masturbate him in time to his own thrusts. He'd gotten Willaim so worked up with his cocksucking a minute ago that it didn't take long for the squirrel to give a cry of pleasure and erupt, squirting forth his thick, creamy bounty to spatter against the bedsheets.

Jeff kept jerking the squirting cock until the flow subsided and then released it. Pushing off the bed with his other hand, he leaned back and up, his face moving away from William's, taking hold of William's hips for balanace and grunting deeply as he thrust into him harder now, putting all of his youthful energy and vigor into each push. The squirrel's tail slid up and wrapped around the rabbit's neck like a stoll, and then with a final, powerful thrust which made the post-orgasmic squirrel squeal, Jeff hit his peak, gritting his teeth and squeezing his eyes shut, arching his back as he nutted in his squirrel, throwing back his head, his longish black hair flying about wildly as he yelled with pure animalistic pleasure, howling his joy up at the ceiling, his cock shooting spurt after spurt of his virile, thick seed deep into the thoroughly used squirrel ass beneath him.

When he was finished, he took a deep breath and slowly leaned his head forwards, opening his eyes. He panted, sweat dripping off of him. Jeff grinned crookedly at the side of the half naked, freshly fucked squirrel splayed out before him and gently pulled his spent but still sensitive cock free from William's ass, then, wobbly, fell back onto his ass in a sitting position on the mattress. Now freed, the squirrel shuddered weakly, but then recovered and turned over onto his back, looking over at Jeff. They smiled at each other and William opened his arms. Jeff crawled over into them.

They kissed each other hungrily as they lay there. Even though they were both used up sexually now, their love for one another remained and it seemed as if it couldn't be satisfied. But eventually, their mutual long, hard days and their combined exhaustion from tonight's bout of lovemaking caught up with them. Jeff was the first to fall asleep. Youthful energy all used up, the teen simply zonked against the bare chest of his boyfriend.

William stroked his fingers through the black hair of the boy adoringly, and, as he felt sleep beginning to take him, used his last conscious act to reach over and switch off the bedside lamp. Sleep took him and he joined his beloved rabbit in dreamland.