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AUTHOR'S NOTE: This story and all characters are copyright © 2012 K.M. Hirosaki

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When I was sixteen years old, I stayed up for two nights with my finger on the 'record' button of my radio/cassette player so that I could get the perfect songs off of the radio in order to make the perfect mix tape for Jeremy McGovern, the wolf on the school football team that I had a huge crush on. I stuck it in his locker with a note saying who it was from, and after school that day, he met me in the parking lot and said he couldn't date another boy because the team would find out, but that if I wanted to I could still blow him.

The second-floor hallway outside of the voc/tech wing wasn't where I was expecting to have my first gay experience, but it worked. He wound up dating this other wolf named Trisha something later in the year, but I sucked him off a couple more times before that happened, and at least once afterwards.

That was half a lifetime ago. Nowadays, I meet the cute wolves online and ask them if they want to get coffee someplace with a tiger like me. Granted, I ask that after they've already sent me pictures of their cock, and I'm usually the one to suggest that I could blow them if they wanted.

This time, though, it was the wolf--Trenton, his name was--who made the helpful suggestion. Well, specifically, he asked if I wanted to go for a walk. He'd just licked his lips very pointedly when he asked, so there was no mistaking what he really meant. I didn't need to be anywhere until dinner, and that wasn't for a few more hours, so I figured, sure, a walk would do some good.

Maybe he'd suggested that particular coffee shop because it was close to the college campus, which, given that it was early August, was pretty deserted. Even on a beautiful sunny day, the kind you'd expect a ton of teenagers and early twenty-somethings to be out and about crossing the quad with backpacks slung over their shoulders and headphones crammed in their ears, the place was effectively a ghost town. Oh, sure, there was the occasional raccoon here and a middle-aged vixen there, but nothing as bustling as campus life should be.

Trenton was too old to likely be a college student, and definitely didn't carry himself with the distinguished air of a professor. He'd probably said what he did for a living during our earlier conversation over cappuccinos, but I'd been too busy figuring out if and where we were going to fool around (and then imagining what we'd do) to pay much attention to small talk that didn't mean fuck-all anyway.

As we passed by an outdoor display on the outside wall of one of the science buildings, I started to wonder exactly where the wolf was taking me. In the back of my mind, I started conjuring up grisly headlines like 'Headless Tiger Corpse Found in Campus Dumpster' and the like. Which I didn't think was too likely (and if I did, I'd have just left, because deserted campus or no, it was still broad daylight).

The wolf started to tug on the doors to different classrooms, and each of them was locked. He didn't say anything, and as badly as I wanted to ask, I didn't, because the curiosity was killing me and I wanted to see it play out naturally. I acted like I didn't care what was going on one way or the other, though in my casual dallying, I did keep my eye out for anyone who might be watching.

After moving on to the second building along the campus path, Trenton found one of the main doors unlocked, and I followed him inside. It was another one of the science buildings, from the look of the papers stuck on the cork bulletin boards in the hallway; I didn't stop to read any of them, obviously, but terms like 'physics' and 'applied chemistry' jumped out at me.

A black leopard in a lab coat passed us in the hallway, and though he gave us both a look, he didn't say anything, and he didn't stop walking. Some of the classrooms (possibly laboratories?) to either side had a few people in them as well, though none of them looked particularly full. We passed a couple of empty-looking rooms, but those were all locked, too.

Until the fourth.

Trenton pushed the door open, stepped inside, and turned the light off. There was enough illumination coming in from the inside hallway for use to see the desks and other furniture in the room, but not much more beyond that. I could surely see better than the wolf could, but the lack of light didn't seem to bother him.

He stepped into the front corner of the room opposite the door and then put his paws on my shoulders. "Think you can be quick enough?" he asked, and even in the dim light, I could see those teeth of his gleaming in his broad grin.

I didn't say anything, both because I didn't want to make much noise and I didn't want to break the mood. I just got to my knees, and when I reached up to start opening the wolf's jeans, I found that he'd already undone his button for me. That just left his zipper, which was easy enough, and by the time I'd peeled the denim flaps apart, his boxers were already bulging considerably, the scent of him thick in my nose.

My fingers fumbled with his underpants for a few seconds, and then Trenton pulled them down for me. His actual sheath was thicker than the scent it was giving off (no surprise, since I'd seen pics), and in the shadowy room it looked even bigger. I leaned in to lick and nuzzle at him, and he planted a paw at the back of my head to make sure I stayed there and did more of it. The fur of his sheath and balls tickled my lips and my chin, and then the tip of his growing shaft began to nudge at my lips.

For just a moment, like I do every time I feel a wolf's dick sliding into my mouth, I think back to being sixteen again, going down on Jeremy McGovern in the voc/tec bathroom on the second floor. He wasn't as big as Trenton here, but at the time I didn't have anything to compare it to. And he wasn't forceful or dominant at all, but more just--not 'shy,' that's not the word, but kind of passive and maybe even nervous.

Trenton wasn't shy, and he wasn't passive and certainly wasn't nervous. Anxious, maybe, if you wanted to describe the need he apparently felt to get as much of his hard cock into my muzzle as quickly as he could. Which I was fine with. I mean, getting his dick into my mouth was why I'd come out today, after all.

He did more thrusting than I did sucking. It seemed to be working for him, though, and part of me appreciated getting my muzzle fucked. Maybe it was going to wind up making too much noise and someone would crack the door open to take a look and see what all the fuss was about, and yeah, okay, I was getting harder inside my own shorts at the thought that someone would find me, slutty little tiger down on my knees, blowing some wolf I'd just met in an empty classroom.

I tried to keep my sputtering and occasional gagging as quiet as I could. More sound came from Trenton bucking his hips against my face, though, flesh against flesh, fur grinding into fur, his leaky tip poking at the back of my throat. This was one of those times where I wished I had a longer muzzle, like a fox or a coyote, but I'm sure my blunter snout made the wolf feel bigger, and I was okay with that.

His knot started to bump against my lips, each thrust making it harder and fatter. Once it was at what I guessed was close to full size, I reached up to take hold of it, but the wolf nudged my fingers away. "You just work on the shaft, kitty," he said, and he stopped thrusting, his fingers playing with his own knot as he coaxed my head back into motion with a quick nudge from his other paw. "Sorry. I just don't trust cats with my knot, is all."

Jeremy McGovern had taught me how to work his knot (not that first time, but the second time, in that same bathroom stall). I wasn't about to stop sucking Trenton's dick and give him my life story just to have him let me put more work into helping to get him off, though, so I did what I could with my lips and tongue on his shaft, my nose and lips bumping into his fingers as I bobbed up and down. At this point, I was still listening for anyone who might be coming down the hallway, but then I deliberately let myself get lost in the heat of the moment. If we got caught, I'd tell Trenton it was his fault because if it takes a wolf to work a knot, then it should also take a wolf to keep his keen ears perked.

The only sounds I heard, though, where Trenton's rushed panting and the occasional wet slap as his fingers met my damp lips. Just as I thought to myself "See, this is where I'd be squeezing your knot" is when I felt the wolf do it for himself, and it's good thing his cock was so thick that it kept me from smiling smugly, because damn.

His tail wagged back and smacked the wall behind him probably way too hard for the two of us trying to stay quiet, but it only did it the once. Then his free paw came back around my head, fingers spread across the back of it, thumb working my ear as his dick started to twitch and jump between my lips. A moment later he was unloading into my mouth, and I could feel the tension in his legs and hips and arms as he grunted and did everything he could to suppress his instinct to howl or some shit. Wolves like to show off like that sometimes.

He pulled out, still gripping his knot, and dragged his dick along my cheek, smearing the fur with my saliva and the final dribbles of his climax. Getting caught blowing someone was one thing, but having your face smell like some other guy's jizz wasn't technically illegal. Trenton was kind of a fucker that way, apparently. And I was the one who was still hard from it.

"Thanks for that, kitty," the wolf said as he zipped himself up. "Should message you again sometime." And while I was still on my knees, he strode back across the room, opened the door to the hallway, and disappeared.

I stayed where I was for a few more minutes, not because I didn't want to be seen leaving with him, but because I didn't want to accidentally run into him again on the way to where I parked my car, because there'd be a noticeably awkward period of neither of us having anything to say.

But hey, I'd come out to meet him, and aside from the whole sneaking onto a mostly empty college campus in the middle of the afternoon, things had gone pretty much as I'd expected.

It's nowhere close to being as romantic as an "I-can't-date-you" blowjob in a high school restroom, but it's what I've got.