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Swim Meet : Issue 5

_Characters copyright 2007 by their author, Hunterwolf. (With the exception of character(s) who shall be mentioned at the end of this Issue. They are copyright of THEIR owners, not by me!)

After a number of emails and guesses...sadly none of them what I was looking for...I've decided to use the best of those guesses and write those furs into the story at some point. This will take a few issues, since I need to work it into the existing storyline.

In this issue, I have written a character into the story who's guess was that Alien Invaders refered to Coach Madson riding our young hero!!!, since it would definately be an alien experience for young Roan to have anything inside him. And of course, there would be an "Invader", or "Invading" of a sort during such a delicious encounter

I hope I do justice to each of the furs I write into this tale. If I offend, it is not intend as such, but I doubt I will. I have taken liberties with these characters, but only insofar as how they fit into the story. Actions and attitudes are NOT assumed of these characters, they are plot devices. So please do not assume that if a character written into the story acts a certain way, that the owner of said character is like that as well.

On the legal side, and to cover my fuzzy butt, all those who wanted to be written into the story have given implied consent as such. I have also emailed, or will be emailing, those whose characters I shall be utilising. So please don't bite my head off for being in the story! ^.^

And lastly, I apologise for the delay in getting this issue up and running. Work, crappy internet, and assorted dailey concerns have tried to thwart me!

And now, the tale of our budding young wolf continues..._

UNLOCKING and pushing open the front door of his house, Roan paused to stoop and pick up the mail, glancing through the letters and pamphlets and tossing them all onto the small table set up in the entry hall.

Turning the corner into the passage, Roan was already unzipping his jeans when the strange wolf stepped out of the bathroom, naked, his grey fur damp, a towel around his neck. The grey wolf stopped with a start upon seeing the younger wolf, who had yet to notice his appearance.

Roan glanced up, hearing movement before him. His eyes took in the well toned physique of the older wolf, the well defined chest and abs, the unsheathed cock dangling between his legs, flanked by ripe, furry balls. Roan simply stared, jaws agape, eyes wide, paused in mid step and mid unbuttoning of his jeans.

"You must be...," the older wolf began.

Roan recovered from his surprise by leaping back, fear and anger swiftly replacing the previous emotion. "Who the hell are you?" He backed up until he was in line with one of the panic buttons scattered about the house, his paw hovering close by it, his eyes narrowed. As attractive as this male was, and as much as the thought of naked males appearing in his house appealed to him...and by the way, what was up with naked males appearing before him

in his house of late?...this wolf was still a stranger here!

"Whoa, kid" the grey wolf's paws shot up defensively. "My name is Richard. Richard Vale?" He looked at Roan expectantly, as though the name meant something. When the younger wolf didn't respond, the elder wolf continued;" I'm a friend of your father's. I'm visiting and am staying here for a bit.

"Didn't...didn't he tell you?"

Roan's eyes flickered from the adult's face to the still un-bared cock, drinking in the sight despite the situation.

The adult looked down, and, suddenly realizing he was naked, quickly pulled the towel from around his neck and wrapped it around his waist, covering

his nakedness. "Oh...um...sorry about that! I hadn't realized you were home."

The act of covering up seemed to be a spell that snapped Roan from his reverie. His eyes shot up from the crotch he'd been staring at to the older wolf's face, hoping the adult hadn't realized that Roan had been staring at his cock. Hopefully the older wolf just thought Roan had been startled.

"No, he didn't," Roan said, eyes still narrowed.

"He said he sent you a text message."

Roan watched the adult cautiously. He reached into his pocket and drew out his cell phone. Lifting it to muzzle level so he could keep an eye on the strange wolf while he checked his phone, Roan found he had, at sometime during the day, pressed the mute button on his phone. A flashing envelope indicated that he had a message.

With deft finger moves he opened the message, the identification on it coming from his father's cell phone. Hey, Roan. A friend of mine, Richard, will be staying with us for a week. He will be at home when you get out of school. Will speak to you later when I get home, about him AND the school door!

Roan groaned. Principal Hargraves had phoned his dad after all. But of course he would, it was school policy. He'd forgotten all about the incident in the passage earlier the day and he wondered how mad his father would be.

"You don't seem happy about the news," the adult wolf, Richard, said. "I'm sorry if it's an inconvenience." The adult seemed very contrite when he said it.

"What? Oh. OH! No...no. It's not that, it's..." Roan paused.

"...a door?" the adult finished.

Roan blushed, his ears burning. "Er...you know?"

"Your dad mentioned it when he picked me up from the airport earlier."

"Was...was he angry?" Roan asked tentatively.

The adult shook his head. "I don't think so. At least, he wasn't when he picked me up. But he did sound annoyed when he mentioned it on the drive back."

"Great!" Roan muttered darkly.

The grey wolf stepped forward. "Richard."

Roan took the paw and shook it. "Roan."

Close to the almost naked adult, Roan couldn't help but again admire the the wolf's body. Pity about the towel. He really wouldn't have minded if the adult had kept it around his neck!

"It's all yours," Richard smiled.

"What?" Roan was puzzled.

"The bathroom."

Roan stared blankly at the elder wolf. "Why would you think I wanted to use the bathroom?"

The older wolf tilted his head to one side, regarding the younger wolf before him quizzically. "You were busy with your fly when you were coming down the passage, so I...thought..."

"OH!" Roan interrupted. "Yeah...of course!" He grinned, his ears burning. "Wow, you're...um...really perceptive."

Richard's expression was unreadable for a moment as he stared at Roan. Then he grinned, putting his paw behind his head to scratch his neck. "Yup, that I am." And he turned and stepped over to the next doorway, entering the spare room, situated right next to the bathroom and directly across from Roan's.

Roan growled at himself. Way to go, wolf. Go staring at your dad's friend's cock and now he probably thinks... Roan shook his head. No. A naked male, a naked anyfur, stepping out when they're not supposed to be there, or rather, when you don't expect them to, will catch anyone off guard. He doubted the adult thought anything amiss with regards to Roan's reactions.

He paused before entering the bathroom, and instead peered cautiously around the corner. Richard was standing with his back to the door, the towel shed. Firm, tight buttocks, and between the legs he could see the balls and cock framed so deliciously. Richard was holding a white jockstrap, apparently about to pull them on. Roan's cock began to swell and lengthen, and he licked his lips.

Moments ago he had been fantasizing about Gan and Coach Madson, and now here he was, staring at yet another male's ass, thinking of so many hot and carnal things he could do with that ass, and with the equipment the elder wolf had so accidentally displayed. A trickle of guilt seeped out from within him.

So what? Roan thought to himself. An attractive naked guy is in front of me and I shouldn't look? Wasn't there some unwritten law in gay society that you could look at another male's nakedness if it presented itself? And even if there weren't, wouldn't it be like gay heresy, to not look, to simply pass up the chance? Roan snorted in amusement at the thought.

Richard's ear's perked and he glanced back, and Roan, still eyeing the hot ass, one paw slowly rubbing his engorged cock through the open zipper, almost failed to notice the movement. He jerked backwards, heart pounding, and swiftly padded as quietly as possible into the bathroom, pushing the door mostly closed, leaving it open only a crack, since closing it would make some noise.

Roan sat on the side of the bath, breathing hard, his heart rate slowing, breathing deeply. That was a close call. He berated himself mentally. He had to be more cautious. He listened intently, trying to hear anything. Half a minute later and he heard paw steps pass by the door, down the passage towards the kitchen and living room. They didn't pause as they passed, and Roan breathed a sigh of relief.

He didn't need to relieve himself, but he flushed the toilet anyway, just to give the impression that he had. Then he padded over to his room and dropped his backpack on his bed.

A certain anxiety began to build up in him. His father would be home soon, most likely. Probably would take a few days off to show his friend around.

Strange, Roan thought, that he'd never heard mention of this Richard before. He thought he knew all of his dad's friends.

Roan's stomach grumbled and he remembered that there was still left over grilled chicken in the fridge. He turned around and yelped in surprise and leapt backwards. Richard stood in the doorway, wearing some shorts and nothing else. A beer was in his paw, a piece of chicken in the other.

"Geez!" Roan barked, partly embarrassed, partly angry. "Don't keep doing that!"

Richard laughed, a deep rumble that was hearty and warm, and his eyes flashed and twinkled in the light as he gazed at Roan with sympathetic lines etched into his muzzle. "Sorry, kid."

Normally, Roan hated been called "kid". He wasn't a kid anymore, damnit! But for some reason the word didn't have the same insinuation were it to be said by any other. Richard's tone of voice was one of affection, and it was that which imbued the word.

"I just wanted to apologize for startling you earlier. Um...and now, of course." Richard chuckled.

"Arctic," Roan replied.

Richard's eyes narrowed. "Say what?" He seemed puzzled.

"Oh, it's how we say "cool" these days. Arctic. You know, lotsa snow and ice...so...it's more than cool."

"Ah right!" Richard nodded, grinning. He nodded at something over Roan's shoulder. "I see you've got a computer. The one in the study isn't working and I wanted to check some mails. Do you mind if I use it quickly?"

Roan glanced at the machine and back again. "Sure, go for it." He crossed over to the pc and poked the mouse, pulling the machine out of hibernation.

He deftly typed in his password, fingers flying across the keyboard, and stepped back so that the older wolf could sit and make use of it.

"Sure hope you don't fuck like you type!" Richard grinned.

"WHAT?" Roan was stunned. He stared at the adult. Had he really just said that to him? Did he suspect something? Had Richard seen Roan watching him dress? Was he hinting at something?

Richard laughed again, and the tone reminded Roan of something warm and fuzzy and friendly. "Sorry, kid, I didn't mean to offend you. You never heard that expression before?"

Roan shook his head.

"Well," Richard began sitting down and opening up the browser, "it's just something funny to say to someone who types like you do. Fast. Very fast.

Cos if you fuck like you type, where's the fun in fucking?"

Roan stared at the back of the other wolf's head. Crude thing to say, Roan thought. But something about him made Roan like the older wolf. It was like he was treating Roan like an equal, talking to him as he would to his friends the same age as him.

Richard glanced back at him. "Looks like we both learned something new," he chuckled.

Roan nodded. "I'm gonna let you do your thing here and go grab some food."

"Thank you," Richard replied.

Roan made his way to the kitchen, secure in the knowledge that the forbidden files stored on his computer would not be found by Richard, whether he chose to look for them or came across them by accident. Roan had wisely stored all his gay files on a separate hard drive that had been password protected, just in case.

With chicken and pepsi in paw Roan sauntered into the living room and was about to make himself comfortable watching some television when through the window he saw his dad's car pull into the driveway.

Roan hurriedly wolfed down the food and drink and made for his room. He would feel more at ease in there when his father approached him about what had happened at school. Abruptly he stopped. Not because Richard was in his room, but because, unbidden, the inner fountain of courage he had found welled up, allowing the wolf to tap into it.

He felt strong, confident. Sure, he'd started a fight and damaged school property, but he was justified in doing so. Flames engulfed his heart, and heat coursed through his veins, firing the young wolf up for the confrontation with his dad.

He sat down and waited, pushing aside the stray doubt and wayward fear that reared their head, seeking a crack in the wolf's defenses, seeking a weakness to infiltrate.

The front door opened and Roan's father walked in. His fur was streaked in places with grey, though it made the elder Matthews seem distinguished rather than aging. His father sported a stylish pair of glasses, which he used for reading, work and driving. As the elder wolf stepped into the living room, Roan stood and faced his dad, trying to effect a pose that was casual yet respectful.

"Hey, dad."

"Roan," his dad nodded, and there was some annoyance in his voice.

"We need to talk."

Scott Matthews regarded his son intently. Part of him wanted to make the quip that those words were supposed to be his line, but his son's stature, his body language, the look in his eyes and the set of his muzzle, stayed his tongue. He expected his son to be timid, nervous, but the young wolf standing before him was neither.

The adult wolf set down his briefcase and took a seat in his usual recliner. He removed his glasses and rubbed the bridge of his muzzle. "Ok, Roan, let's talk."

Roan sat down and tried to find the words he needed. He met his father's eyes and said;" I started a fight and a door got broken. Kind of."

"Kind of? How can a door kind of get broken?" his father raised his eyebrows.

"Ok, the door got broken. I was referring to the fight. It...it wasn't so much a fight as a..." Roan struggled to find the words, and the images of earlier the day flooded his mind, and with them came the emotions that had accompanied his actions. Roan stood abruptly and began pacing, reviewing his memories, putting them into words as he recalled them.

"There were these three jocks, two of them on the football team. They...bullied me, and at the swim meet I stood up to them and got my ass handed to me.

If it weren't for Gan," Roan paused and looked at his dad, "the stallion you met yesterday, it might have been worse than a few bruises.

"Anyway, today they harassed me in the hallway and I just had enough of them and I...I wiped the floor with them, dad!" He spun around, incensed. He gestured wildly with his paws. "I threw the tiger through a door and struck down the wolf and the stupid little fox lapdog of theirs I shoved aside. It was awesome, dad!"

Scott Matthews stood and gazed at his son, taken aback by his attitude, his demeanor. He kept all of this from featuring on his face as he said, his voice tinged with anger;" I didn't raise my son to start fights! Look at you, prancing around gloating about your so called victory!"

Roan gaped, the wind blown from his sails. He'd hoped to find some sympathy from his father, and there was a flicker of something in the elder wolf's eyes that Roan, in his shock, failed to recognize.

The inner well of courage churned red and angry heat flowed through the young wolf. "Well I'm not gonna stand there and let some fucking jerks push me around!" Roan snarled, his fists clenched as he stalked towards his father.

Scott Matthews stood solid, staring down his son, unflinching before the younger wolf's rage. He glanced down at Roan's fists, then back up into his son's eyes. "You going to hit me, too?"

The words hammered home, a physical and mental blow at once, it seemed. Roan staggered back, lifting his paws, staring at them in horror, looking up at his father in horror. Rage fled him, determination fled him, courage fled him, and he felt sick. A void filled him where before been his well. He hadn't had any intention of hitting his father, but how could his father know that? All his father had heard was that his son, him, Roan, had started a fight, beat up some furs, and now had been advancing on him like some rabid beast.

"D...dad...I...I..." Roan felt tears welling up in his eyes, and his muzzle quivered. He need to escape, needed to get away, get away from his dad's eyes, eyes he could not bring himself to meet. He spun and darted for the kitchen.

"Stop."

The word was said without inflection, yet it carried a power of its own, a power that would not, could not, be denied.

Roan stopped, blinking away tears, struggling to hold back the emotions he had thought, in his arrogance, that he could control. He heard the paw steps behind him, flinched as a paw fell upon his shoulder, turning him around.

"Look at me."

Roan raised his eyes to those of his father's. He expected anger, fear, pain, but there were only twin orbs of warm topaz.

"You scared me."

And at those words, those simple words, the last of his bastions of crumbled and collapsed and Roan broke down, the tears flowing freely despite squeezing his eyes shut, soft sobs escaping his clenched muzzle.

Firm, strong arms encircled him, pulling him into a warm, tight embrace. "The last time I held you like this, you were 10, and had just stubbed your foot paws on some jagged bricks out back," the elder wolf's voice came softly, tenderly, into Roan's ears. "I knew you weren't going to hit me, Roan. I spoke those words to see the effect they would have on you, and I'm glad they had this effect."

Roan pulled back and blinked away tears, meeting his father's eyes. "Wh...why?"

"Because it shows that you were caught up in the moment, that you aren't by nature violent. It shows that you can control yourself. I admire that you stood up for yourself, but I don't want you starting fights. Fight only when you have no other choice, or when someone else will be hurt if you don't.

Walking away takes much greater courage, and strength, than flailing with your fists.

"I know life is difficult at your age, but I just want you to think before you act, ok?"

Roan nodded, wiping away the last of his tears on his forearm, relief stemming the tide and calming him down.

"I'm not angry at you, especially not when I see what really lies within you, Roan." His father gently put his paw on his son's chest, above his heart.

"I just...had enough of them," Roan breathed softly.

"I understand. And by the sounds of it you can definitely hold your own. Just be careful."

"I will. I'm sorry, dad."

Scott Matthews hugged his son again. "Don't worry about it anymore. It's in the past, and I believe you learned from this. Besides," the older wolf stepped back from his son, "do you have any idea how many fathers wish they could hug their sons like I did you just now, especially at your age?"

Roan couldn't keep the smile from his muzzle. "I...I guess. So...so can we go get ice cream now?"

Scott Matthews blinked, and memories flooded back from when Roan was still a cub. He'd always taken his son out for ice cream after any argument or punishment. He released a wistful sigh and smiled, realizing his son was making his own attempt at humor. He gazed at his son fondly. His little cub was growing up.

"I think you're old enough to get your own ice cream. Hell, I think I deserve an ice cream!" the elder wolf laughed.

Roan chuckled, then became serious once more. He could feel his inner walls repairing themselves, and the inner well refilling, bolstered by the fact that he wasn't in trouble, that his dad wasn't angry.

"What about the door, dad?"

"Ah yes, the door. Fortunately, the school will cover that. Insurance or some such. You know how kids can get," his father grinned, then lapsed into some apparent serious thinking. "The garage needs some reorganizing, ya know?"

"Aw,dad!" Roan whined.

Scott Matthews grinned. "Excellent. Thanks for volunteering!" He laughed and ruffled his son's headfur.

"Can I get a hug too?" The voice came from the entrance hall.

Roan and his father turned their heads. Richard was standing with his paws crossed in front of him, grinning.

Scott Matthews shook his head, a smile creasing his muzzle. "Later!"

Had Roan not been turning away from Richard in order to ask his father something, he would have missed it. Even so, it was brief, very brief, the moment of rigidity in his father's posture, so brief that Roan wondered if he'd seen it at all!

"IF," his father waved a finger in his friend's direction, "you eat all your veggies tonight!"

Richard burst out laughing, Scott joining in.

"Dad?"

Roan's father looked at his son, and for a moment, there was a glimmer of something in his eyes, something that pulled at Roan's memories, hovered on the tip of his tongue, but then it was gone.

"Yes, Roan?"

"Um...do you think I could...um...go to the mall tonight?"

Scott Matthews frowned. "I don't know, Roan. It's a school night, and you're still kinda in the hot seat about earlier today."

From the entrance hall Richard's voice came to them. "Are their any decent restaurants at the mall?

"Yes, there are a couple," Roan's dad replied. "Why do you ask?"

"Cos I'm buying supper, and I think it would an awesome idea to eat out someplace nice. Not some takeout joint. And I'm gonna insist, Scott. You owe me!"

Scott grumbled, flashing Richard a playfully dirty look. "Oh ok."

"Excellent. And just to make sure your son doesn't get into more trouble, he'll be joining us!"

Roan's father just nodded, and suddenly smiled. "Yeah, you know, this is a good idea. It'll be like old times!" And he crossed over to his briefcase, picked it up, and strode down the passage to the master bedroom. "We'll leave in 15!" he called back over his shoulder.

Richard gazed at Roan, caught the younger wolf's eye, and winked.

THE ride to the mall afforded Roan much information about his father's friend. The two had met in college, and had been roommates. Richard had studied archeology and his father had gone into Information Technology. Both had graduated with flying colors and begun their chosen career paths, paths they remained on to this very day.

Roan's father worked as an IT consultant for a Fortune 500 investment company. Richard jetted across the globe to various archeological digs for a large museum on the opposite side of the country.

While Scott had gotten married, settled down and had a son, Richard had decided to maintain a bachelor's lifestyle. When asked if he regretted not settling down, Richard laughed and shook his head.

"I like being single. Don't know why you decided to settle down, pal. You know, Roan," Richard smiled, turning in his seat and looking back at the younger Matthews, your dad was quite the player in his day!"

"HEY!" Scott growled. "I don't think my son needs to hear about that!" There was something underlying his tone, something akin to a warning. But Richard seemed oblivious to it, so enthused was he in being able to spill some of the beans on his old friend's earlier life.

"Your dad was known in all the clubs, and his little black book had more names in than the local telephone directory!"

"Richard!" Scott snapped, and the grey wolf shut his muzzle, looking penitent.

"Sorry, bud. Just...teasing ya. Like old times."

Roan's father just grunted, and for a few minutes a deep, uncomfortable silence filled the car. Then Scott shook his head. "I'm sorry, Richard. Work's just been...insane...lately. Sorry I snapped." He turned his head to grin at his friend, who grinned back.

"It's arctic," Richard chuckled

"What?"

"Like, it's cool. Just cooler than cool. Arctic. Get it. Ice and snow and cold. Geez, old wolf, you gotta keep up with the lingo these days!"

Richard turned his head to grin at Roan, who grinned back.

"I am getting old," Roan's father mumbled.

"Don't worry, old wolf. By the end of tonight you'll be beyond relaxed, and work will seem like a distant memory!"

Was it Roan's imagination, or did his father cringe slightly as Richard uttered those words? He watched his father carefully, but the moment had passed, and for the rest of the ride Scott and Richard regaled each other with tales about their lives since they'd last parted ways.

THE steaks were perfect. The Grille restaurant was situated on the second floor of the mall, overlooking the entertainment area and food court, and Richard had charmed the hostess into getting them a balcony table, where they could sit and watch the world passing by beneath them.

Ever since the momentary discomfort in the car ride over, Richard and Scott had been chatting and laughing and joking, like two high school kids. Roan wondered at the sudden change in his father. Normally a serious wolf, this was the first time Roan had seen this side of his father. He and Richard must have been great friends in college.

"Thanks, Richard," Roan said as they left The Grille, stomach full and feeling a little bloated thanks to one too many milkshakes and a chocolate mousse desert.

"You're welcome, Roan," Richard smiled as they walked along, the three of them side by side. "Your kid can eat a lot! I remember when you could pack away so much meat in your muzzle!"

The sound of a paw striking fur elicited a startled yelp from Richard. "OW! What was that for?"

Roan glanced over, watching Richard rubbing the back of his head. His father was staring dead ahead, a serious set to his muzzle.

"For not keeping in touch as much," Roan's father growled, then turned to glare at his friend. Moments later his eyes sparkled, though the serious aspect of his muzzle remained.

Richard chuckled and winked at Roan. "When was your father diagnosed with CCS?"

"CCS?" both Roan and his father asked.

"Yeah," Richard laughed. "Cranky Canine Syndrome."

Roan burst out laughing, despite an exasperated glare from his father.

"Why you cheeky little..." Scott spluttered.

"Hey, hey, hey, old wolf," Richard backpedaled, holding his paws out before him pleadingly. "It's not that bad! I hear it's easily cured. We just need to get you laid!"

Scott Matthew's ears and his eyes narrowed. "Laid?" he snarled. "What the f... I'll show you laid!"

Scott dove at Richard, who deftly darted out of reach of his friend's paws. Roan stood frozen, afraid that his dad was going to hurt his friend, but when his father turned around and prepared for another tackle, there was laughter in his eyes, and he was grinning broadly.

Roan was torn between amusement and embarrassment. Furs had already paused to watch this strange event being played out in the busiest part of the mall. As much fun as it was watching his dad act like a teen again, it was still his father. And adults weren't supposed to act like that! Not in public. Not in front of their son!

And adults aren't supposed to let you go down on them, the voice rose, unbidden, from the depths within. Yeah, Roan thought, taken aback and humbled. That was a very hypocritical thought. His father couldn't act like a kid, yet his Coach could make out with his young charge? Still, he glanced around nervously, hoping he didn't see anyfur he recognized.

A loud grunt pulled Roan's head around, to find his father on top of his friend, pinning him down. "Looks like all that dust from your digs has seeped into your muscles, wuff. Now who's old?"

Richard grinned. "Ok, ok. I give up. You win." He laughed and suddenly raised his head, whispering something into his friend's ear. Scott's eyes narrowed briefly, then he grinned and stood, helping his friend stand.

"Uh, oh. We're in trouble," Richard said, nodding in Roan's direction.

Roan turned, expecting security, but saw nothing out of the ordinary, just furs drawn back to their daily lives, now that the brief interlude of entertainment was over. He looked back, puzzled.

"I think we embarrassed your son!"

Roan chuckled. "Nah, its ok. It was for a good cause."

Richard and Scott stared at him blankly.

"Seems like you cured my dad of his CCS!" Roan snickered.

Scott looked shocked, and Richard howled with laughter.

"You're a bad, bad influence," Scott muttered at his friend, then turned and walked away.

Richard grinned at Roan and gestured with his paw to follow. Roan did, and as he came up alongside his father, Scott's paw came up to ruffle Roan's headfur, a wordless affirmation of everything's ok.

"Hey!" Richard barked, pointing at the cinemas. "A remake of Don't Look Back! Come on, Scott, let's go watch it."

"I dunno, Rich. It was an average movie back then, and remakes aren't that great."

Richard laughed and slapped his friend on the back. "I'm surprised you remembered anything about the film, given that you were too busy making out with Jerry!"

Roan's head shot around. "Jerry?" He looked at his father, then Richard, who was pointedly staring elsewhere, a paw at his muzzle, clearing his throat.

Scott Matthews turned his head slowly to eye his friend. "You know she hated it when you called her that."

Richard didn't respond.

"Don't know why you teased Geraldine like that, Rich."

"S...sorry, Scott," Richard mumbled. "Stupid...stupid of me to bring it up."

Roan kept silent, aware that to say anything would intrude on something personal between the two older wolves. There was a tension between them, but as Roan watched it faded, slowly, and then was gone.

Richard eyed the movie titles. "Well, if not that one, then how about," he pointed at a movie poster, "that one?"

Roan and his father looked at the poster Richard had gestured too. Roan's father growled, low and deep. "I ain't into that shit," he said loudly, and his muzzle took on the appearance of having something distasteful in it.

Roan shuddered. He glanced at his father, who was eyeing the other movie posters. He looked back at the poster that had offended his father.

Brokeback Mountain! Despite the food he'd eaten, Roan felt suddenly queasy. His father's tone of voice had left little to the imagination. His skin prickled uncomfortably.

"Why not?" Richard moved closer. "It's a cowboy movie ain't...oh. Um...oh."

"Let's just go home," Scott said.

Richard turned and stalked towards his friend, grasping his arm tightly.

"Actually, I need to talk to you, Scott. Roan, meet us back here in an hour, ok?"

Roan's father growled angrily. "He's my son, Rich. Don't go telling him what he can and can't do."

"Look, Scott, I know I screwed up, ok? Just...just let me talk to you for a bit, before we go back home. Please?"

Roan stood, shuffling his footpaws, wishing he could be anywhere else, uncomfortable with the tension between the two adults. He stared at his sneakers, afraid to move lest the two older wolves see him and fall into that uncomfortable silence again. He didn't know why, but he was sure those silences involved him in some way.

Certainly there was some history between his father and Richard. Had it something to do with this Geraldine furson?

"Roan?" his father called.

Roan looked up; saw the outstretched paw with some cash in it. His father was smiling, but only with his muzzle. His eyes were in complete contrast to his muzzle. Brooding, silent.

"For the arcades. Or something else you want. Meet us here in an hour."

Roan nodded, and watched as his father and Richard walked off in silence. He though about the hug his father had given him earlier, the ruffling of his headfur just several minutes ago. Would his father have done that to him had he known his son was gay?

"I ain't into that shit!"

The words bit deep.

He'd have to be even more careful. He couldn't afford to let his father find out he was gay. How uncomfortable would the silence be in the house were his secret to be bared before his father? Roan shuddered. He remembered the twist of derision on his father's muzzle. Would that twist be there whenever his father looked at him?

Roan walked slowly away, in the opposite direction his father and Richard had taken. He stuffed the money into his pocket and tried to banish the dark thoughts laying siege to his mind. He needed to find something to occupy his thoughts. He looked up and around, trying to figure out where to go, where to spend his hour.

Roan strode towards a gaming store, and in one freak instant the crowds parted in just the right place, at just the right time. Gan walked alongside the collie he'd been chatting to after school, making their way towards the cinemas. Gan was smiling, the collie laughing, and then Gan looked

Roan's way, saw the wolf walking towards them.

Roan, in one split second of decision making, glanced over at a clothing store, then changed direction casually, pretending not to have seen the stallion. He couldn't deal with Gan now, or the collie, now that he knew who one of the other guys Gan was having sex with, was.

He heard his name being called, but ignored it. Over the noise in the mall, he could simply say he hadn't heard anything. Because of the bustle of moving furs, he could simply say he hadn't seen Gan.

Suddenly the mall seemed too much, and Roan headed for one of the exits. As he strode towards the glass doors he remembered his thoughts of earlier in the day. He pulled out his cell phone, glanced at the time. Perfect. He should be able to get there and back in 20 minutes, plus 10 for browsing. That would leave him half an hour to wonder around before meeting up with his dad and Richard.

Once out the doors he glanced around, looking for a taxi. Quickly calculating how much he had in his wallet and how much his dad had given him, Roan nodded in satisfaction. He had enough.

A taxi pulled in, dropping off an elderly female badger. Roan climbed into the back, and the driver, a lion-tiger crossbreed, looked at him in the rearview mirror, his blue tinged fur and purple highlighted stripes momentarily throwing Roan off.

"Where to, kid?"

"Just a quick trip to...the corner of 81st and Seymour. Then back here."

The driver nodded, but didn't pull away. "You know, you won't be allowed in."

"What?" Roan blinked.

The liger laughed. "Do you want to guess at how many times I've been asked to drop people off at the corner of 81st and Seymour? Now, usually, there could be a dozen places someone would want to go. But a kid like you, at this time of the day?" The feline shook his head. "Only one place you'd want to go. Still, you gotta be 21 to get in."

"Oh, shit, yeah. I forgot."

"No sweat, kid," the liger smiled, pulling off from the mall. "Tell me what you want so badly and I'll run in and get it for ya."

Roan blushed and fidgeted in the back seat. "Hey, that...that's no problem. I'll...I'll figure something out."

The driver laughed. "Relax kid. Look, I already know where you're going, and I'm guessing you want something other than condoms, since you can get those in any one of half a dozen stores in the mall we just left."

Roan hesitated. The guy was older, and a little heavier than those he usually ogled, but he was still cute. Something about him, his attitude, the glimmer in his eyes. Still, he couldn't just blurt out what he wanted! The guy would probably stop the taxi and tell him to get out. Probably call him names too.

"I ain't into that shit!"

He closed his eyes and searched within, reaching for his well of courage. What could the guy say? No? Besides, not trying just meant one thing; that nothing would come of it. At least he could try. Maybe the guy was open-minded. And besides, it wasn't like this guy would ever cross paths with him again!

Opening his eyes, he looked sheepishly at the driver. "Well, um...I...I wanted to buy a box of condoms, some lube, um...some...some exotic underwear and a...um...dildo." He blushed profusely at that, the last word hardly a whisper.

"A what?"

Roan cleared his throat. "Dildo," he said loudly, and cringed, having not intended to say it so loud.

"Sizes?"

Roan blinked. "You...you'll do it?"

"Of course," the liger chuckled. "I said I would, didn't I"

Roan breathed a sigh of relief. Had he looked towards the driver, he would have seen the liger regarding his passenger with more than just curiosity.

Roan thought of Coach Madson's cock. Sure, it was bigger than his, but not huge.

"Regular size condoms. Pack of 12. Don't care what brand, just nothing too expensive. Underwear, size Medium. No, small," Roan barked quickly. He wanted the underwear to be snug, close fitting. "And...um...wolf dildo, regular size."

The driver nodded. "With or without knot."

Roan pondered that. "With," he finally said. He could use the knot to replicate the thicker girth of the Coach's dick, not to mention Gan's. And he'd use the rest of the dildo just to get himself comfortable with something inside him.

"You're probably looking at about, oh, forty, forty five."

Roan nodded. "I have the cash." Then he leaned back, staring out the window. He felt, empowered. Something inside him was changing, and he grinned.

He felt alive, electrified. Who'd have thought he'd be doing this! Getting a cab driver to buy him sex stuff! Roan suddenly shot the driver a stunned glance. Exactly how did the guy know how much the things he wanted would cost? He shook his head. He's a guy. Probably been in a dozen adult stores.

Probably seen the prices of hundreds of items.

Roan looked at his cellphone. They were a little behind, but nothing to be concerned about. He felt eyes on him and glanced up. The liger grinned.

"Time constraints?"

"Um...kinda."

"Hmmm...let me guess. Your folks gave you some time to run around and they're gonna pick you up in...what, an hour?"

Roan blinked. "You're good. Not exactly...but...mostly."

The feline laughed and the taxi picked up speed, and the further they got from the mall, and the closer they got to their destination, Roan's pulsed quickened. His fur tingled and a grin started to spread slowly across his muzzle.

The taxi pulled into an alley behind the adult store, and as the driver turned off the car, Roan felt even more excited. His fur tingled, and he couldn't stop grinning.

"Whoa, down boy!" the liger laughed. He reached back with one paw, and Roan put several notes in it. "Be back in a bit," the driver said, opening the door and setting off on his little mission.

Roan sat back and closed his eyes. The moment they had pulled into the alley, Roan had become excited, physically excited. He stroked himself through his jeans, thinking of just how wrong all this was. How illicit! How daring! His heart was a drum in his chest.

He lost track of time, and place, for when the door opened next to him, he jumped up, hitting his head on the roof. "Ow...ow...ow," he moaned.

The liger laughed. "It's just me."

Roan looked at the feline and smiled. "You....got everthing?"

"Oh yeah, I did." He handed a brown paper bag over to Roan, and the young wolf noticed that the driver still held onto a smaller bag. Roan glanced inside, finding the dildo, the condoms and the lube. He didn't see the underwear.

"What about..." Roan began.

"...these?" the liger finished, holding up some very alluring, very erotic looking briefs. It seemed to be a white jockstrap, but the pouch in the front was just barely wide enough to cover one's balls and cock. It was white, and the waistband was pencil thin. On the left hand side, where the waistband crossed over the hip, the material was not white, but rather the pride colors. But the thing most exotic about it was the front pouch. Several pairs of silver metal rings were sewn into the material, looking similar to a where you'd thread shoelace on a shoe. And serving almost the same purpose. For untying the white cord threaded through those rings would open the front of the pouch, allowing easy access to what lay nestled within!

"Wow!" Roan breathed, taking them from the liger, marveling at how light and silky they felt. "Wow!"

"We should make sure they fit," the feline grinned, and reached into the car to lay a paw on Roan's upper thigh.

Roan flinched from the unexpected touch. He looked at the feline, and in the cat's eyes he saw hunger. He saw himself reflected in orbs that saw him as prey. The liger's aura had changed, his body language more savage. Roan felt more like a mouse than a wolf before the liger's lustful gaze.

The feline's paw moved sensually up and across, fingers reaching the zipper of jeans. Roan shivered, and not from the cold. He felt scared, powerless. This cat was about to take him, here, in the back seat of a taxi, behind a sex shop.

Mounted in the back seat of a taxi, by a strange male, behind a sex shop...these were gimmicks in some seedy porno. And as the thoughts entered his head Roan felt his zipper pulled down, and he stiffened involuntarily, followed immediately by a stiffening of another sort.

"Just...just no...no fucking," Roan said, his voice soft, husky, and he blinked, stunned that he'd uttered those words.

"No probs, kid," the liger grinned, and suddenly Roan lost his jeans, and found himself lying on the back seat, legs hanging out the open door, the feline's paws hooking into the waistband of his briefs.

His mind raced through dozens of reasons why this should not happen. Why he should say no, put an end to it before it went too far. He thought of Gan, and Coach Madson. How would they look at him were they to know he'd let a strange male have his way with the young wolf? Well, he told himself, Gan was fooling around with several guys, so...so why no him? And besides, a stranger he'd never see again? What harm could come of this The angry, sullen side of him boiled and shouldered aside all thoughts, all inhibitions, replacing them with one overwhelming idea. He was single, could do as he wished. Sex with Gan was sex. Sex with the Coach was sex. Sex with this guy was sex.

Roan lay back, surrendering control over to the liger as he felt his briefs pulled down and off. He heard the liger's breathing increase, a sharp intake of breath. He lifted his head, saw the liger staring hungrily at the hard shaft of canine meat that twitched in expectation.

The feline fumbled with his pants, finally managing to step out them. His boxers followed suit, both dumped unceremoniously on the floor of the cab on top of Roan's own clothes. The liger removed his shirt swiftly, seemingly unconcerned that he stood in an alley, naked, erect. The sun had not yet set, but despite some deep shadows cast by the walls on either side of the alley, there was plenty of light to see by.

Roan lifted himself up to cast worried glances out the front and rear windows. He saw nofur. Then the liger was leaning into the car, one paw sliding under the wolf's shirt, caressing his chest, the other sliding up along the inside of his thighs.

Roan shuddered pleasurably and spread his legs wider. The feline grinned and his paw met Roan's sacs and began fondling them, playing them, rolling them through fingers and over palm.

The young wolf reached up, his eyes flaring to match the lust in the liger's eyes, kneading the blue fur of the feline's head, pulling the cat forwards. The liger needed no further encouragement and lay atop the wolf, their crotches meeting in a dueling of engorged maleness.

The liger pressed his muzzle against Roan's, and the young wolf eagerly tasted his first feline. Thoughts of kissing Gan and Coach Madson flashed through his mind, but they were fleeting, swiftly chased away by the urgent throbbing of his cock, the surging of his blood. One thought did remain, however. Roan loved kissing.

Tongue on tongue, lips locked in passionate embrace, tasting of another male. Yes, the young wolf loved this part of the foreplay. He reached around, grasping the firm ass cheeks of the male above him, grasping them tightly. A growl of delight escaped the liger's lips, and he began to grind his hips against Roan's, his cock leaking over Roan's, making both slick and wet.

The liger pulled away. "You sure I can't screw you? I'd love to fuck you a new tailhole, kid." The words dripped lust.

Roan shook his head, staring into the flaming eyes that held him, devoured him. "No...I...I want to save that for..." Roan's muzzled clamped shut, and he pondered that. Who did he want to save himself for? Gan? The Coach?

The liger nodded slowly. "I understand, kid." He paused for effect, then grinned toothily. "You know how to suck cock?"

Roan nodded, and the liger twisted his hips, pressing his cock harder against the young wolf's.

"Good boy," the liger growled happily.

Roan's flesh was on fire. He could feel the heat on the tips of his fur, so electrified did he feel. The situation, the liger's words, his own desires and passions, they all mixed together, a maelstrom of erotic energy that could not, would not, be denied.

The liger lifted himself off the wolf and stepped back out of the car, pulling Roan forward. With the wolf's butt resting on the very edge of the back seat, his legs dangling out the door, the liger moved into position, straddling Roan's face now that he'd given himself room to maneuver within the confines of the back of the cab.

Precum dripped from the liger's cock onto Roan's muzzle, and he licked at it, deciding that it tasted pretty much like the precum he'd tasted before. The liger reached down, grasped the young wolf's head, and pulled it upwards. Roan's muzzle opened and the liger thrust his hips forward, burying his full, thick cock in Roan's mouth.

The liger's hips churned as he humped away, pulling Roan's head against his crotch with each heavy thrust. He wasn't getting head as much as he was fucking the young wolf's face!

Roan's tongue slid along the length of the liger's dick, tasting him, sending shivers down the feline's spine. His lips closed around the feline's maleness and he sucked eagerly, reaching out to play with the liger's balls, squeezing the base of the liger's cock with the free paw.

Minutes passed, the time filled with panting and sucking noises, and the occasional grunt of satisfaction from the rutting liger. Had anyfur passed by the alley and glanced in, they would have seen a pair of legs hanging out the back door of a cab, and even in the fading light, through the rear window, a liger moving in a way that left little to the imagination.

The liger pulled away, panting, and licked his lips. He backed out of the car and leaned back against the alley wall, fondling himself, stroking his cock slowly, squeezing his balls gently.

"Get out here, kid, and come finish me off!"

Roan sat up and glanced nervously out the windows. He saw nofur. He looked at the liger, naked, erect, in full view of anyfur wondering by. His brow creased with anxiety.

"Um...what...what if somefur...sees us?"

The liger shrugged and moved a paw from his balls, pointing at Roan, then at the ground. "Get out here now, bitch, or I'll come fetch you. Kneel and suck my cock."

Roan cringed at the ferocity in the liger's voice. Was this some kind of roleplaying? Or did he liger mean to carry out the threat that hovered just under the words? Part of him cringed at the tone of voice the liger carried, another part growled in anger. And yet another part - the part that moved Roan out of the car and onto his knees in an alley, his muzzle in line with the slick, precum coated cock of a rutting liger - delighted in the idea of being dominated, used.

The liger grasped Roan's head and pulled the wolf onto his cock. Bobbing his muzzle along the shaft, Roan elicited loud, eager gasps from the liger. The feline was moaning eagerly, thrusting forward, fucking Roan's face as he would have fucked the young wolf's ass.

Roan slid a paw between the liger's legs, brushing the feline's balls, and caressed, gently, the cat's rump. He moved his paw along the cleft of the ass cheeks, sliding one finger deeper, finding the puckered hole and pressing the tip of his finger against it.

The liger opened for him, allowing the questing finger to explore the warm, tight hole, and as the feline frantically and hungrily humped the wolf's face, the wolf slid his finger in and out of the older fur's tailhole, keeping it in time with the liger's own penetrations.

Roan felt the liger tense up and suddenly give vent to a loud howl of release, a steady stream of seed spraying into Roan's muzzle, over his tongue, against the back of his throat, and Roan swallowed, and swallowed, spurt after spurt of warm feline cum feeding the wolf. With a final spurt, the last drops of sperm splattered the inside of Roan's mouth, and the liger pulled away, resting heavily against the wall behind him, panting, his cock dangling limp between his legs.

Roan licked his muzzle. It was his second time tasting cum, and while it was still something he had to work on, he felt he could put up with it. The taste, still harsh to him, wouldn't be harsh for long, he figured.

After a minute or so the liger stood, stretched, and grinned at the wolf, still on his knees. "Get up and get changed, kid."

Roan stood and reached into the car for his clothes, then shot several anxious glances around him, expecting to see somefur watching him. Now that the moment was over the power of eroticism escaped him, and glaring reality slammed home. Feeling more relieved he nonetheless began pulling on his clothes swiftly, first his shirt, then his briefs, but a paw stopped him.

"No, not those."

Roan glanced at the liger, who was grinning, and he met the liger grin for grin as he tossed the briefs into the car and reached in for the new underwear he had bought, slowly pulling them up, still grinning at the liger, the wolf's cock still erect. It strained against the material of the briefs, pulled at the drawstrings, framed deliciously and seductively behind that thin white wall.

The liger nodded in appreciation. "You look fucking hot, kid."

Roan blushed, then pulled on his jeans. The exotic underwear felt like silk against his skin, and he felt even more aroused by simply wearing it. He looked at the liger, who had just finished pulling his own clothes on. "You don't want to see me...cum?"

The liger looked at Roan and grinned. "Nah. I figure you've got a special night ahead of ya, and I didn't wanna ruin it by making ya shoot your load."

A special night. Yeah, right. Gan was with that other guy, and Coach...well, Roan had no idea where the Coach lived. So that left...nofur. Unless he got it on with Richard, Roan chuckled mentally, but as humorous as that thought was, it was dashed by one simple fact.

"I ain't into that shit!"

His dad wouldn't have a gay friend!

A paw fell on his shoulder. "You ok, kid?"

Roan forced these sudden dark thoughts away and smiled up at the liger. "Yeah, just....nothing. I'm good."

"No. You were awesome!"

Roan blushed.

"Jump in. We gotta get you back to the mall."

Roan gulped. Shit. He'd lost track of time. How much time did he have left. He glanced at his cell phone. Enough. Just enough. He clambered into the car, aware as he sat his hardon was still in full force. The liger jumped into the front seat and started the cab, pulling out of the alley and heading back to the mall.

"Thanks for back there, kid."

"No...no probs," Roan smiled.

"Here, in case you need a ride one day." The liger looked back and grinned. "I mean, a cab ride."

Roan laughed, accepting the business card. It had a cell number on it and a single name. Feral.

"That your name?" Roan asked.

"Nope. I don't like my real name, so I go by that."

"Suits you," Roan grinned, thinking back to how the liger had face-fucked him.

Feral burst out laughing, and Roan joined in.

The liger cast a glance back at Roan in the mirror. "You don't seem the sort to do this kinda thing often."

Roan nodded and looked out the window, buildings and cars passing by as night cast its cloak across the city. "No. I...I don't. I'm...new to this."

"Just come out of the closet, eh?"

"Kinda. I...I just wanted to experience...what I've been too scared to go for. What...what everyfur says I shouldn't go for, cos it's wrong."

Feral nodded. "Just be careful out there, kid. Not everyfur is as nice as me." The feline looked stern. "Some furs just want to use and abuse. Some furs won't take no for an answer, and you'd be bent over and ridden whether you like it or not."

Roan gulped. The thought hadn't crossed his mind. Here he was, enjoying himself, tasting of the forbidden fruit, yet mindless of the dangers lurking about him. Being forced to service somefur didn't appeal to Roan. He thought about the liger demanding that Roan suck his cock in the alley, but realized that even then he knew the liger wouldn't have pushed the issue. Feral wasn't like that. If he was, Roan would have been well fucked and left in an alley.

"Get yourself a can of mace. Keep it on you. Just in case."

Roan nodded. "Yeah...thanks, for the advice. I will."

They pulled into the mall, and Roan brought out his wallet. The liger shook his head. "Keep it. You paid for the ride back in the alley, stud."

Roan smiled and exited the cab, his brown paper bag in paw. He paused to smile at the liger. "Thanks, Feral."

"Just stay safe, kid."

"I will," Roan nodded.

A beaver strode up to the cab and pulled open the door, and Feral smiled at Roan and waved goodbye, and Roan stood, watching the cab vanish into the night. Behind him, the warm inviting light of the mall streamed out through the glass doors, beckoning him in, an invitation that Roan smilingly accepted.

NOT even half an hour later and Roan was standing at his dad's car with Richard on the passenger side waiting for his dad to unlock the doors. Ironically, despite being into IT, Roan's dad hated electronic cars, so no central locking. Roan always found this odd, but put it down to an eccentricity. He had his own share of them.

Richard pulled open his door once Scott Matthews had unlocked it, and accidentally bumped against Roan, forcing the young wolf to drop the paper bag he was holding. It hit the asphalt, spilling some of its treasure.

Roan gasped and swiftly knelt to scoop up his illicit purchases, but so did Richard, who, in his embarrassment, had knelt to make up for his clumsiness. Two sets of wolf eyes fixed to the bottle of lube that lay outside the bag, and the colorful box of condoms that peered out. Two wolf heads shot up to gaze at each other, one in surprise, the other in fear.

Roan's paws were frozen over the bag, then found themselves working outside Roan's conscious control, shoving the lube and condoms back into the bag and snatching it up. He stood,as did Richard, and the two wolves regarded each other in yet another of the evening's uncomfortable silences.

"What's the hold up?"

Scott Matthew's voice shattered the spell that held the other two wolves in check, and Roan jumped into the backseat of the car, Richard sliding into the front.

"Sorry, dad. Just dropped my stuff."

Scott Matthews turned the key in the ignition. "Oh yeah! The money I gave you. What did you buy yourself?"

Roan froze, his mind running hither and yon to find an answer, but ending up crashing and burning. He swore mentally, and fear seared his muscles, forced itself into his heart, into his mind.

"Some fantasy novel," Richard said nonchalantly. "Burning shadows of Amber, or something like that."

Roan blinked. "Uh, yeah. Burning shades of Amber, actually," he forced himself to chuckle, wincing as it sounding fake to his ears.

Roan's father laughed. "I'm into science, he's into fantasy."

Richard chuckled.

Roan sat back, relieved, yet anxious. Why did Richard cover for him? Was it because he didn't want to ruin the evening? Would he tell Roan's father at a later date? Richard was quick on the draw, though, Roan gave him that. In the blink of an eye the older wolf had pulled to mind the title of a book sitting on Roan's bookshelf in his room and used it as a perfect cover.

SCOTT Matthews drove back, chatting with his friend. Not once did he glance back at Roan. He paid attention to the road, and when he did glance into the rearview mirror it was to assess traffic.

Driving and holding a conversation with his old friend were only two of the things the elder Matthews was doing. The third was silent contemplation.

Burning shades of Amber.

A book he'd bought his son for Christmas two years ago!

_To Be Continued

O.o Talk about out of the frying pan and into the fire! Roan's father suspects...something!!! Will Richard spill the beans? Will Roan face the wrath

of a homophobic father? And what secrets lie in Scott Matthews' and his friend Richard's past...secrets that tie into Roan's OWN life???

Feral is copyrighted by HIS owner, namely Nabuza.

Please continue your comments, praise, questions and suggestions. Without them, I lack my focus, my muse. For I write but for YOU, gentle furs.

Without an audience, I am nothing. So...thank you for your support!

PS: A brief sub-issue will be up in a day or two. It is very brief, but, I hope, will be as enjoyable to you as it will be to our wuff, Roan!_