They Cheat
They Cheat
Disclaimer: Blahblahblah. It's yiffy. That means sex. If you're underage, how did you get past the disclaimer on the main page? Shame on you. Don't read if you don't like hot gay sex between two males that are both gay. Can I be any more clear?
Author's note: Okay, this is my first ever yiffy story. It's my first ever furry story. It's my first ever story that involves any form of deep character development. So please, by all means, don't be offended if it sucks. :)
"This is probably the worst coffee I've ever tasted."
As he sat in a booth at one of those high-class designer coffee shops, a tall, lanky, dark-brown furred otter named Wilson gave an evil glare to the workers behind the counter, picking out just which one of those overpaid bottom-dwellers of Generation X brewed him this disaster. He stood up from his seat, and walked over to the garbage can, tossing the three quarters full cup into the trash bag within. He was about to make his exit, when he stopped at the door, turning around to face the coffee shop junkies, as well as the employees. Raising a paw to his eye level, he lifted his middle finger in a wide arc, making sure every last one of them saw. That having been done, he turned back out, and exited the place.
Kicking back in his chair in front of his computer, Wilson logged on to his favorite instant messenger. "Ah, how typical. Nobody I know is online." Sigh. Any minute now, Tom'll be home, he thought.
'Any minute now' had passed and been gone for an hour. Wilson picked up his cellphone and called Tom up. It rang, three, four times, and just when he was about to end the call, the voice answered.
"Hello? Wilson?"
"Hey, Tom. You didn't come home from work."
"It's Thursday, hon. Movie night, remember?"
Ah, how stupid of him. Movie night, every Thursday.
"How come I'm never invited to these movie nights?
A pause. "It's sort of a co-worker thing. You know how it is. You've got poker tournaments on Thursdays, don't you?"
"...You're right. You're right, Tom. Thanks for reminding me! My whole day's been completely fucked up by this nasty coffee I had on my lunch break. Have fun. What movies are up tonight?"
Another pause. "Uhh, we got... Man on Fire, and Schindler's List. Nothing you'd like anyway."
"Yeah. I'd better get ready for poker. Seeya tonight, love."
"Bye."
A mechanical beep signalled that the call was ended on the other side, and the cellphone was lowered onto the desk. Wilson signed off his computer, and went to go get ready.
"That was a close one..." Tom sat back on the couch. An otter as well, his fur was a lighter shade of brown than Wilson's, but not by much. "He won't be calling again." To ensure this, he turned his cellphone off, placing it on the berber carpet and sliding it across the room, to hit against the wall gently. "So, Marcus... What did you have in mind, tonight?"
"He's not getting suspicious, is he?"
"No, he's got no idea."
"Good. You've got a great ass, Tom, I don't want to lose it because you're getting sloppy with that boyfriend of yours."
"He doesn't know."
Standing before Tom was a weasel, short and muscular, with tan fur. "Now, with no more interruptions..." Marcus placed a paw on Tom's chest and pushed him gently down, deep into the couch's cushion, slowly undoing the otter's button-down shirt with delicate care.
Wilson knew it was wrong to do this. Every night when he lay down in bed next to Tom, he wanted to confess to him that there is no poker tournament on Thursday, and that while he was away watching movies with his friends from work, he himself was having mind-blowing sex with two of the hottest furs this side of the country. Of course, he wouldn't word it that way exactly, but he wanted to tell him nonetheless.
"Shit!" Wilson slammed on the brakes, his tires screeching as they slid across the asphalt, his car turning slightly to the right and almost colliding with a car heading through the intersection. "That's what a stop sign's for, asshole!" Wilson inhaled and exhaled deeply, shaking his head clear of what just happened. Slowly, he pulled forward, looked both ways, and headed out into the intersection. A flash of lights and a short blast of a police siren resounded off the walls of the buildings on either side of the street to the right. The otter smirked. "That's what you get, jerkoff..."
A quarter mile down the road, and he reached the apartment building. Parking at a spot in front of the building on the street, he got out of his car, locked it, and headed inside, out of the rain. Room 302 was his destination, and he knocked five times, then paused, then knocked three more times. The door opened slightly, to show the head of a rat.
"It's clear." The door opened the rest of the way, and Wilson walked inside, greeted by the aforementioned rat, grey-furred and wearing nothing but his grey fur, as well as a rabbit, also naked in nothing but his dark grey, nearly black coat of fur.
Short gasps of anticipation and arousal were steadily pouring out of Tom by the time he and the weasel had shed all their clothing. Kicking his pants off of his ankle, Marcus lay his bare form on top of the otter, hoisting his elbows on either side of the mustelid and dragging dull claws down either side of Tom's face, eliciting deep sighs of need from him. "Why do you do it again? I need you to remind me why you lie to your boyfriend every Thursday night to be with me."
Tom looked up to the weasel. "Cause you're..."
"Bigger than him, right?"
"Yes..."
"His dick doesn't fill you up quite like mine, does it?"
"No..."
The weasel leaned in close to Tom's ear. "You like them nice and big, don't you? When they pound into your ass, you want them to tear you apart, and Wilson's just doesn't have the size, does it?"
Tom bit his lip. He hated this part. "No, it doesn't."
"Good..." Marcus leaned down and nibbled at Tom's neck, right where his jugular was situated.
Tom moaned and writhed in pleasure, bending his neck back to allow the weasel more room. He allowed his paws to move up to the weasel's lower back and rub there, his whimpers from the weasel's job on his neck becoming softer and softer.
Marcus moved his muzzle from Tom's neck, and placed it on his mouth, tilting the otter's head to the side and forcing his tongue in, licking at every spot on the inside of the otter's mouth htat he could reach. Tom lied on the couch beneath the weight of the weasel, using his tongue to further encourage Marcus, his paws moving down to the weasel's rump and squeezing as he pushed up, pressing their sheaths against each other. He found that he was already stiffening, and that Marcus was fully exposed and rubbing against both of their stomachs. Tom closed his eyes and deepened the kiss, pushing back with his own tongue.
Before he knew what was happening, Wilson was on the bed and relieved of his clothing.
The rabbit turned to the rat. "So Brian... What do you want to do with our toy tonight?"
"I don't know, Travis... I call his cock!"
"You always do..."
Wilson watched as the rat crawled on top of him, turning around so the rat's rump was in his face, and felt a tongue licking at his sheath, making him gasp and sigh, the sensitive pouch being teased by the warm muscle. Before long, he felt another warmness, near his tailhole. The rabbit, Travis, darted out his tongue and began to lick at and around his tailhole, running his tongue across the pucker, poking it and dotting it with saliva, licking around in circles... Wilson squirmed underneath the weight of the rat, his member becoming fully hard quite quickly, to match the rat and rabbit's. Soon he felt a mouth dip onto his cock, and the otter kicked out his legs on either side of the rabbit, tensing up for a moment, then relaxing, moving his legs up to rest on Travis's shoulders. He leaned forward with his neck, and started licking at Brian's pink entrance, his paws moving around to pump the rat's shaft slowly. He was rewarded by doubled efforts on his maleness, a moan escaping his lips at the combined pleasures.
The rabbit's tongue finally made its way inside the otter, flicking around his insides and coating the walls with his saliva. Shortly after, Travis stood and crawled onto the bed, pushing Wilson's head away from Brian's ass, and placing his hard member to the otter's mouth. As soon as Wilson took it in, the rabbit began to hump into the muzzle roughly, shoving a couple inches down the mustelid's throat, and pulling out. Wilson rapidly worked his tongue over the cock as it violently thrust into him, his throat muscles relaxing, trying not to choke on the rabbit's length.
Tom ran his tongue around the tip of the weasel's shaft, teasing the head and hearing the moans of Marcus's arousal. The saliva-covered length was removed from the otter's mouth, and Marcus placed his paws on Tom's shoulders, kneeling down himself as he lowered the otter to the floor, and rolled him over, Tom's tight pucker exposed to the air and the weasel's view. Quickly, Marcus rammed a finger deep inside of Tom, bending it and twisting it around inside him, causing Tom to shift on the floor, his cock rubbing up against the rough carpet.
Marcus shoved a second digit into the pucker, spreading them out a bit, bending them and pumping in and out of the tailhole, causing Tom to groan in need for more. As he writhed beneath the weasel's ministrations, he lifted his rump, to allow his cock breathing room. Suddenly as they entered, the digits were ripped out of Tom's ass, causing a grunt and a whimper to emerge from the otter's mouth. Rolling the otter over again, the weasel took the otter's legs and put them over his shoulders. Marcus wrapped his paws around Tom's back, and locked them together, lifting him up off the ground and walking him over, to rest Tom's back against a wall. He placed the head of his shaft at Tom's loosened entrance, and leaned in to once again bite softly at the otter's neck, causing him to shiver against the wall. Trapped between the inside of the house and the owner of the house, Tom relaxed himself, preparing for what was about to come.
Soft moans and whimpers came from Brian's throat as the rat lowered himself onto Wilson's cock, his ass muscles clenching around the otter cock tightly. Travis humped one last time, deep into the otter's mouth, letting it sit there for a few seconds, before pulling out and walking to the foot of the bed, where Wilson's wet pucker rested, his legs hanging off the edge of the mattress. Travis held his shaft with one hand, aiming it for Wilson's tight entrance. Touching the head of his member to the otter's anal ring, he slowly pushed in, leaving his head inside for a moment, shivering as he inched his way in further, Wilson's expression gaining a pair of widened eyes and a speechless, slacked-open mouth. Travis finally hilted himself deep within the otter, his chest touching against the rat's back, a stray rabbit paw searching the front of Brian, rubbing up and down as Brian began to bounce up and down on the otter's length. The rat sat flat on Wilson's crotch, before raising up, leaving only the tip inside, and falling back down quickly with a grunt, repeating this motion again and again, his inner walls clenching at Wilson's shaft just as the otter's tightness pressed against the rabbit's hardness as he began to pull out and thrust in in a steady rhythm. Wilson managed to move his paw through the ecstasy to grip Brian's throbbing, needy member, and begin to run it up and down in time with the rabbit's thrusting, spreading the bits of pre dribbling out from the rat cock around for lubrication, his grip tightening at the base and loosening as it goes up and falls. Wilson closed his eyes, and leaned his head back onto a pillow, entering a state of pure euphoria...
Loud grunts and moans filled the room as Marcus repeatedly ripped in and out of Tom's hole. Every ridge, bump, and vein played across the sensitive insides of the otter, and Tom could feel them as he squeezed tightly and released the member, sending pulsing waves of pleasure throughout the weasel's entire body. A choked groan of pleasure emitted from the otter's mouth with every time the weasel cock pounded into his inner sweet spot, the burning within him combining with the pleasure from the abused prostate, filling Tom's vision with stars as he moves his paws, one to stroke the weasel's chest, the other to stroke his stiffened member. His mind clear of the wrong of what he was doing, he allowed himself to be repeatedly taken by the weasel, closing his eyes and leaning his head back against the wall, never wanting the moment to end...
His pleasure building steadily, Wilson clenched his eyes shut tightly, pushing back his orgasm as much as possible, moaning and squeezing down on the cock within him, trying to push Travis closer to the edge. Each squeeze results in a low-level murr from the rabbit, and he speeds up his pace, panting heavily with exertion. Gulping, Brian shook his head clear of the clouds in his vision, his cock throbbing and twitching in the otter's furiously stroking paw. "Gods... I'm... gonna..." The rat gave one last loud moan as pleasure washed over him, the otter's paw coaxing burst after burst of his seed onto his chest. The rat's orgasm causes him to clench down on Wilson's cock, increasing the friction. This, along with ram after ram of the rabbit's shaft into his prostate, proves to be too much for Wilson, as he roars in ecstasy, unleashing his seed deep within the bowels of the rat, wave after wave of bliss filling his mind and numbing him to any other senses. Soon after, the sight of Brian shooting his load on the otter's chest and the feeling of Wilson's ass muscles rippling across his cock send Travis reeling, and he, too, lets out a few loud grunts as his member twitches within the otter, spasming and unloading itself deep within.
Sweat began to surface on Marcus's fur, the invasion of his shaft into Tom's tailhole proving to be rewarding, every thrust sending both himself and Tom into new heights of ecstasy. Tom could feel the pulsating weasel maleness within him, pounding again and again, piercing him, impaling him over and over, deeply hammering into his most sensitive areas. He began to stroke himself with more abandon, the act at hand driving him to the most feral of needs. Marcus pinned the otter against the wall, pushing in and pulling out with a rapid pace, bouncing the otter up and down the wall with every thrust. He could feel his climax approaching, and began to use harder, slower movements, ramming up the otter's hole deeper and deeper. Tom knew what was coming when he felt the weasel's length throb and twitch inside him, and he hit his peak, spilling his seed all over Marcus's belly and his own paw. The warm seed shot over him caused the weasel to growl, and thrust one last time, hilting himself deeply into the otter as he let his fluids flow into the otter, some dripping out onto the carpet beneath.
"How were the movies?" Wilson inquired, his eyes half lidded as he watches his boyfriend walk into their bedroom, already laying down beneath the covers.
"They were good. How did you do tonight?"
"I lost. Only a couple dollars, though."
"You'll get 'em next time, hon..."
"They cheat, I swear."
As each otter offered their recited, memorized lines to each other that night before they went to sleep, neither had any clue. All the same, Tom climbed into bed, and wrapped his arms around Wilson's neck, Wilson's finding their way around Tom's waist, as they closed their eyes, neither finding it odd that a night of poker and movies could be so exhausting, and both too exhausted to care.
"Love you. Get those cheating bastards next time with some cheating of your own."
"I don't cheat."
The End.