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

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I was sitting in the back seat of the car next to Etzi, the black panther I'd been snuggling with back at Johnny's place after dinner. Our paws wandered over each other's thighs and stomachs as Johnny (one of the cuter wolves I know) drove and my boyfriend, Banyan, sat in the passenger seat. It was just casual, friendly touching, nothing too serious. I mean, sure, it would still probably have led to sex, if it weren't for the fact that we were heading to the big party at Derek's place, but Etzi and I were still behaving ourselves, at least to some extent.

There was still a good chance I might wind up having sex with Etzi. But there was an equally good chance I'd wind up having sex with Johnny or Nearl or Shoola or even my boyfriend. He wouldn't know he was having sex with me, but that hardly mattered, under the circumstances.

If you've never been in the situation where you had a great chance of getting laid, but you weren't sure with whom and didn't particularly mind, let me just tell you that it's very liberating. To clarify, I wouldn't say that I'm that much sluttier than the rest of my friends (though they might say so); I'm just saying that it's nice to have options, most of the time.

Tonight wasn't about it being merely nice to have options. Tonight, options would be required. Thankfully, Derek was throwing a party, and I knew a bunch of people who were going. Knowing who would be there helped--and not just because I knew a lot of them were easy.

"You guys got the peach schnapps, right?" I asked, leaning forward between the two front seats, one paw still braced against Etzi's knee. "Because last time Johnny said he was going to get it but--"

"Yes, fox, we have your girly drinks," Banyan said, cutting me off before turning to kiss me on the cheek. Banyan's a Dalmatian, and he's a lot taller than me, and so when he gets all sweet on me it makes me feel even smaller. Which I kind of like.

Given how short I was, leaning forward the way I was meant I had to lift my butt off of the seat. Etzi took advantage of that, slipping a paw to my backside, rubbing and stroking and playing with the underside of my bushy tail. I shifted my hips approvingly for him while I gave Banyan a kiss on the side of the muzzle. "How much do I owe you?"

"Don't worry about it, sweetheart," he replied. "I've got you covered this time."

I murmured a quick thank-you and gave his whiskers a nibble before settling back down into the back seat, grinding my butt against Etzi's now-trapped paw. He didn't much seem to mind.

Derek didn't live too far from campus, thankfully, and so the ride didn't take very long. Also thankfully, neither him nor any of his housemates minded a nineteen-year-old sophomore like me coming to one of their parties. Maybe that'd be different if I didn't know Johnny or if I weren't Banyan's boyfriend. I'm not sure. I was just happy to get to go to a party held at off-campus housing. It's way easier to get laid in a crowded house than a crowded dorm room.

Johnny parked half a block down the street. I got out of the car, adjusted my jeans to help disguise my partial erection, and then trotted alongside Banyan while Johnny and Etzi grabbed the booze out of the trunk. No sense getting caught in the middle of the street, right? Besides, tonight would be an extra-bad night to get thrown in a cell overnight.

We were greeted at the front door by Pingo, one of Derek's roommates. Pingo's this raccoon that I almost blew one night a few months back while driving back late from a concert in Kitteridge Falls, but I wound up falling asleep with my head in his lap in the back seat. If he held any grudge about that, he didn't show it, and merely smiled at me and Banyan as he said his hellos and welcomed us both in.

Once in the living room, my nose was assaulted by the scents of vodka, cigarette smoke, and a bunch of different species. My ears perked up as I tried to sort through the sounds, filtering out overlapping conversations as I tried to determine who was here already and what music was playing (one of Derek's other housemates has this awesome record collection that he says I'm too young to appreciate).

Some other fox who looked kind of familiar but who I didn't quite recognize passed by with a tray laden with bright orange jello shots. He stopped long enough for me and Banyan to take one apiece, then drifted toward the front door where Pingo was now welcoming Johnny and Etzi inside, their arms full of unmarked plastic bags from the liquor store. The raccoon went about helping them, and figuring that too many cooks would spoil the broth, I wandered into the party proper, in full-on mingling mode.

I made a note of the clock on the living room wall: 9:27pm. I didn't know for sure what time things would go down tonight, but I knew I'd have at least a few minutes' advance notice. I always do.

Having a few minutes' advance notice wouldn't do me much good, though, if I weren't able to put those minutes to good use. And that was my problem. See, I get all makey-outey and kind of slutty (okay, fine, sluttier) when I'm drunk, and as mentioned, I'm kind of a small fox. I'd already had one jello shot, and I knew that Banyan would mix me a drink with that peach schnapps I'd asked for, in order to hide the taste of all the vodka he'd put into it, too. But hey, just because I needed to be responsible didn't mean I had to stop myself from getting just a little drunk.

As it turns out, orange juice and peach schnapps and vodka is a very poundable concoction. I wasn't trying to slam it back, but it just sort of happened. As a result, soon enough, it was a little after ten, I had a slight but marked wobble in my step, and I was leaning against (and sometimes sliding partway down) the wall in the hallway between the living room and the downstairs bathroom while talking to Derek and this genet girl who I knew was in one of my classes, but I couldn't remember if it was Astronomy or Art History or whatever.

Oh, yeah, so it's worth pointing out that this shindig wasn't a total sausage fest or anything. Johnny and Banyan are both active in the Gay Student Union on campus, and Derek used to be, too, back when he was an undergrad, so there were a lot of gay guys here compared to your average college party, I'm sure, but it's not like you had dudes just making out and undoing each other's pants in full public view.

Not at all the time, at least. I saw Banyan and Johnny exchange a kiss or two while me and the genet girl complained to Derek about one of our upcoming midterms (since I couldn't remember which class she was talking about, I just sort of agreed with whatever she said). And that was kind of hot, because like I said, I think Johnny's really cute for a wolf, and Banyan's my boyfriend, so of course I think he's hot.

Around quarter past ten I stumbled back into the kitchen to mix myself another drink and to also get myself a glass of water, because I'd learned over the summer, the hard way, what happens to little guys like me when we get dehydrated. I went back into the crowd, two-fisting it, an exaggerated wag in my tail thanks to the booze.

I don't remember where I set my cup of water down. I don't remember setting it down, period. What I do know is that soon it was closer to eleven o'clock than it was to ten, and I was in one of the offices downstairs, leaning against Pingo and telling him about how I was so, so sorry about falling asleep on the way back from Kitteridge Falls and my water was nowhere in sight.

"Seriously," I said, slapping a paw against the raccoon's chest. "I can make it up to you if you want."

Pingo smiled and chuckled, and I didn't trail my paw down his front so much as my paw just kind of slipped down from his chest to his belly. "I think I might like that," he said, and then he planted a kiss between my ears. "I don't know if now is the right time, though."

"Aw, what's wrong with right now?" I asked. My paw moved again, this time more deliberately, down between his legs. He wasn't super-hard or anything, but he wasn't totally soft, either. "Now is good with me."

The raccoon let out another chuckle while licking along the rim of my ear. "Yes, but you're drunk." I don't know why he was licking my ear if he was trying to discourage me, so I could only assume that he was merely talking the talk for his conscience's sake or some shit like that.

And hey, if that's all he needed to do in order to get permission from himself to get a blowjob from an underclassman fox, then that was more than enough for me. "The door locks," I pointed out, and to prove it, I pushed myself away from his cozy body and stumbled over to said door and kicked it closed with my toes. I fumbled with the doorknob, and when I was pretty sure that I had it locked, I went back to fondling Pingo through his pants.

I either lowered myself down onto my knees or fell onto them; I'm not sure which. I heard a few things fall and scatter across the floor as Pingo staggered backwards and bumped into the computer desk, catching his paws on the edge of it. At first, I tried tugging his zipper open with my teeth, but the flap at the front was too rigid, too unyielding, and after several frustrating seconds of my making zero headway (no pun intended, I swear), Pingo gently pushed my muzzle away with his paws and undid the zipper himself.

The nagging feeling that I was forgetting something really important crossed my mind, then just as quickly went away as my nose got a strong whiff of the raccoon's scent now that his pants were undone. I waited until he'd worked his belt open before I leaned my face back in and pressed my snout right against the growing bulge in his underpants. The grunt that rose from his throat made my ears dance. Only in that moment did I realize and appreciate how horny I truly was.

My fingers hooked into Pingo's underpants and carefully pulled down. I'd ripped more than one pair of Banyan's boxer-briefs, despite repeated cautions to watch it with my claws, and so I tried to heed those warnings here. In my current state, manual dexterity wasn't one of my finer skills, but I did what I could, and the raccoon wasn't complaining.

With one final tug, I got the front of Pingo's underwear down past his balls, and his hard shaft actually sprung up, and I could swear it almost hit me on the chin and nose in the process. My head swam with dizziness and eagerness and earnestness, and I eyed that erection while making a show of licking my lips. The thought of finally making good on my intentions from weeks earlier made my pulse race. Now Pingo would know that I wasn't just some lousy cocktease.

I took a slow breath in through my nose, parted my lips, leaned forward--

--and clutched both paws to my stomach as I drew my muzzle back, tucking my chin against my chest. A chill ran up my spine, and a new sort of dizziness gripped my head, this time having nothing to do with sex. It was happening.

How could I have been so stupid? I stared up at Pingo and whimpered. Not here, I thought to myself, as if trying to give myself a mental command. Not here. Not in front of someone you know.

"You okay, fox?" the raccoon asked. His shaft was still hard and leaky and just inches away.

I wanted it. I really, really did. But a moment later, I was on my feet. It wasn't until after I tugged the door open that I realized it hadn't ever been locked in the first place. I didn't bother to close it behind me. There was no time for that. I needed to get someplace safe.

Upstairs. Maybe to Derek's bedroom. Or Pingo's, or--well, no, not Pingo's, but maybe--

Thump-thump-thump, my feet padded up the stairs. One or two people looked my way, but if anyone called after me, I didn't hear it. All I could hear was the rushing of my own pulse inside my skull, and the growing unease that might as well have gone all the way down to my bones. I stumbled at the top step, but I made it to the second floor, hesitated, turned right--

--and ducked not into Derek's bedroom, but into the upstairs bathroom. I gripped the faux marble edges of the sink, got one last look of myself in the mirror, and then proceeded to vomit.

It didn't last long--or at least, I don't remember it lasting long. I remember Etzi coming in just as I was, well, finishing, and the panther took hold of my shoulders to steady me. "Easy, foxy," he said. "Just let it out. You'll be okay."

But I'd already let it all out, and I was already feeling better. "Where did I leave my water?" I asked, smacking my lips, feeling only the sour taste in my mouth.

Etzi looked around, then poured out the last inch or so of his own drink into the toilet before filling the empty plastic cup with water from the sink. "Here, drink this," he said. "Not too fast."

I felt my pulse racing again, and I must have begun wobbling on my feet because Etzi reached out to steady me once more. "You all right, foxy? You need to throw up some more?"

"No, I--I just need to go lie down," I said, already trying to force my way past him so I could get back into the hallway. I spilled a tiny bit of water, and the sound of it splashing onto the tile floor sounded like it was miles away.

In order to dodge the spill, Etzi had to pull away, and that gave me the room I needed to slip by him. "Make sure you drink all that!" he shouted after me, his voice echoing like it had come through a long tunnel. The upstairs hallway turned into another tunnel, and I barreled down it, trying to get to Derek's bedroom.

I made it inside, set my cup of water down on the dresser against the near wall, and then slammed the door behind me. This time, I was extra, extra careful to make sure the door was locked, which was difficult because my fingertips were getting numb. I listened until I thought I heard the latch click into place, then gave the door a quick testing tug before I stumbled back towards the bed.

There was a tingling in my skin, under the fur, as I hurried to tear my clothes off. I felt myself overstretch the collar of my t-shirt in my haste to get it off, but I didn't care. Tossing it aside, I started to pull my pants off of my hips. There was no time to unfasten my belt--fuck, I was supposed to have more time than this! Trying to just pull my clothes off without loosening them up made me lose balance and fall onto the floor. I hit my head, but I barely felt it, and then I just used my new leverage to hurry myself further.

Once my pants were around my knees, I crawled up onto Derek's bed and tried to kick the garment the rest of the way off of my legs. Propped up against the mattress, I looked down at my paws, and I stopped kicking as I watched the black fur of my fingers ripple away into creamy white. My claws made soft cracking noises as they reshaped themselves, and then the bones in my digits made louder cracking noises as they did the same.

The rippling fur effect spread from my fingers to the rest of my paws, black again giving way to white. Partway up my forearm, where the foxy russet began, I felt another tingle under the skin, and that fur, too, changed to the same pale white.

My limber tail stiffened. My joints locked and my big ears folded back. My jaw clenched and tightened as my teeth realigned themselves to fit my muzzle as it was reshaped by forces beyond my control. My hips stretched out my underwear a little further (though not by much), and my head snapped backwards.

I had to force myself to bite back and swallow the crooning howl I wanted to let out as my scrawny muscles bulged out into slightly-less-scrawny versions thereof. My tail developed a jaunty curl, and my ears grew shorter and less pointy. Pressure built up behind my eyes, and my vision went crimson.

And then Argent took over.

Argent slowly stood up from the bed and took my body--his body--over back toward the dresser. Behind his eyes, I could see what I'd become: the same cinnamon-furred husky I'd turned into every night of the full moon for the last two-plus years. Argent took a few moments to check himself, presumably to check to make sure that nothing had gone wrong with himself in the intervening month since his last appearance, and then started to rummage through Derek's drawers.

I should explain that, while I turn into Argent, I don't completely become him--not mentally. I mean, he's not a completely separate personality, I don't think, but when I'm Argent, it's like he's in the pilot's seat and I'm just a passenger. Oh, I still know what he knows, feel what he feels, and think what he thinks, but--yeah, it's hard to explain.

Argent found a pair of denim cutoffs in the second drawer and put them on. They were a bit too tight for him, but he just smiled since that suited him just fine. He checked a few more drawers until he found a tank top I remember Derek wearing from time to time, and then he gathered up my discarded clothes and hid them under the bed. At least Argent has that much common sense.

Less than a minute later, Argent was downstairs and already part of the party. With so many people at Derek's place, he was able to blend right in, since anyone would just assume he was friends with someone else and still had a right to be there. He made eye contact with a few of the cuter boys that I knew were gay on his way to the kitchen, and then he mixed himself a drink consisting of orange juice, peach schnapps, and vodka.

The husky perked his ears as he overheard Etzi talking a few feet behind him. "Yeah, he was in a bad way," the panther said. "Must have had too many jello shots or something. I think he's lying down upstairs."

He was talking to Pingo, who had his pants back on by this point. "Ugh. Well, I mean, I hope he's okay," the raccoon said. "Little fox like him shouldn't drink so much."

"I just saw him upstairs," Argent said. "Checked on him real quick to make sure he was drinking his water. I think he'll be fine."

Etzi looked over at Argent. "Oh. Well hey, thanks," he said, and I could tell that he was trying hard to not ogle the husky's twinky body. With some hesitation, he tore his gaze away, then turned to Pingo and said, "I'll just go and tell Banyan what's going on, so he doesn't worry."

After Etzi walked off, Argent brought his cup up to his muzzle and took a nice, long swig while he made eyes at Pingo from behind it. The raccoon smiled, but then just kind of held up his own cup in acknowledgment before walking away as well. Argent frowned, his curly tail drooping, and then took another sip before pouring another half-shot of vodka into his drink.

Since Argent wasn't appreciably bigger than me, he didn't have a huge tolerance for alcohol, either. Still, he was better at pacing himself (maybe not great at it, but it didn't take much to be better than me), and he also wasn't getting suckered in by the jello shots, either. Maybe I couldn't talk to Argent directly, but I could still learn from him.

The husky cut a path through the living room and walked to sliding glass door at the far end. He pulled it open and stepped out onto the back patio, the coarse concrete cool against his bare pads. To the left, a pair of jackals passed a joint back and forth, and to his right was a bright blue cooler filled with beer and ice. Argent stepped forward into the half-darkness and took a seat in one of the lawn chairs, next to the genet girl from that one class of mine, and across from my boyfriend.

"It'd kind of cool," she said to the Dalmatian. "Like, back in high school, I didn't know any boys who dated boys. But now it's like, hey, gay people are an actual thing. I think that's neat."

Argent smiled at that, and to his credit, so did Banyan. "I think at parties like these, you're liable to run into more than your fair share of us," the Dalmatian said. "So I guess it's good for us that you think we're 'neat.'" He then winked at her, the same way he winks at me when he wants me to know he's just teasing.

"I'm drunk, aren't I?" the genet girl said, following the remark with a self-directed giggle. Argent couldn't smell too much alcohol coming from her, but if she had anything like my metabolism, that didn't necessarily mean much. "But yeah, you know what I mean, right?"

"I know what you mean," Argent said. "And I think it's good that the boys in this town know when to advertise instead of playing their cards too close to the chest." His eyes locked with Banyan's as he said that, and I felt my consciousness hidden behind the husky's while my own boyfriend looked right back at not-me.

The Dalmatian smiled, both at Argent and at the genet. "It is a college town," he pointed out. "So that makes it easier."

"That's good," Argent said. "I like it when it's easy."

A sharp little whistle from the genet made Argent's ears perk. The husky grinned at her, then grinned at Banyan, too, just to show the Dalmatian he wasn't shy (as if there were a doubt of that, given his dress and demeanor). "I think I'm going to get another drink," the genet said, and the way she stumbled as she got to her feet made me doubt less that she was acting.

Moments later, the jackals finished their smoke and slipped back inside as well, leaving Argent alone with Banyan on the back patio. The husky leaned back further in his lawn chair and smiled at the Dalmatian, saying nothing, smiling as the other dog looked back at him.

"I know you," Banyan finally said. "You were at Page's Halloween party. Argent, right?"

"Looks like you know me better than I know you." Argent likes to be a dick to me like that, sometimes. "I think I at least recognize you, though."

Banyan smirked. "I mostly recognize that tail of yours," he said, indicating it with a nod. "From when you were bobbing from apples."

Said tail wagged faster through the hole in the back of the chair. "It's one of my better features, I like to think," the husky said. "You here with anyone?" he then asked.

"My boyfriend is here," Banyan admitted, "but as I hear it, he's out of commission at the moment." He shifted forward in his chair. "Why, you looking to get better acquainted?"

"Maybe. Do you and this boyfriend of yours have an understanding?"

Banyan leaned even closer, his slender tail whipping against one of the arms of the chair. "Does it matter?" he asked.

Argent barked out a laugh and got to his feet. "Not really," he conceded. "Thought it was polite to at least ask, though."

For what it's worth, Banyan and I actually do have an understanding. Honest. If we didn't, I'd never have let Argent get away with taking him by the paw and leading him back inside, using my memories of the floor plan of Derek's house to find a room to drag him into. Briefly, the husky considered using the side office where I'd almost blown Pingo, but instead, he made a line for the stairs, and headed on up to the room where I was supposed to be sleeping off my drunkenness.

The room smelled mostly of Derek; Argent could smell me, but only because he knew what to look for, and so hopefully Banyan wouldn't notice my scent in there. Not like it would give much away, unless the Dalmatian got nosy and found my clothes hidden under the bed. Though I guess that would give him the fun mental puzzle of wondering where I'd gotten off to while naked. The thought made Argent stifle a chuckle, too. At least we share a sense of humor, sometimes.

"You know, it's kind of cold up here," Argent said as Banyan turned to lock the door behind him. "We should huddle up. For sex."

It was not, by any reasonable definition, even that cold. "Don't you mean 'for warmth?'" the Dalmatian asked.

"Eh. Why split hairs?" Argent said, and before Banyan could chime in with a rejoinder, the husky took hold of his paws and pulled him in nice and close. "Besides," he said now in a more hushed whisper, "you were the one eye-fucking me downstairs and telling me how you recognized me because of my ass."

"Is this where I should point out that I heard you were bobbing for more than just apples at that party?"

"At least we both know what we're in for," Argent said, and somehow I'd lost track of just where his paws were, because I was actually a little surprised to feel his fingers squeeze the Dalmatian's cock through his pants. "Should I take that erection as consent?"

Banyan closed his eyes and huffed out through his nose. "You should at least take it."

When I get down on my knees in front of Banyan, I usually do this thing with my tail where I make the tip of it brush around to either side of my hips and tickle his legs. Argent's tail couldn't do that, so the husky had to settle for just wagging it excitedly as he assumed the position, the Dalmatian already busy getting his pants open. I felt Argent's thrill along with my own at the urgency of having sex at a friend's house that didn't actually involve said friend.

Argent's muzzle is broader than mine, which initially made Banyan's cock feel smaller as the husky took it between his lips. Once his tongue came into play, though, the familiar shape and feel of it came back to me, and I was able to enjoy it for what it was. Argent was certainly enjoying it, too, which I could feel as the husky's sheath began to strain even harder against the inside of the too-tight cutoffs he'd borrowed.

I tend to start sucking cocks by licking along the underside first, teasing my way up from base to tip. Argent just went right for the "stuff it right on into the muzzle" method, though, which I guess is still nice and time-tested, in addition to making his technique sufficiently distinct from my own. Not that I'm worried about Banyan getting bored of my cocksucking or anything. That being said, the Dalmatian did respond by grunting out loud and pushing forward against he husky's face with more excitement than I'd felt with myself in quite some time.

"Why--rrf! Why don't I see you around more?" Banyan asked. It was meant as a rhetorical question, because instead of letting Argent pull up to respond, he actually grabbed the husky by the ears and ensured that he wasn't going anywhere. Argent, not one to be outdone, did his best to relax his throat so that the other dog could thrust into it, getting a series of deep, strong whiffs of musk as he breathed as best he could to prevent untoward choking and sputtering. I'll say that made me jealous, because I can never get through one of Banyan's muzzle-fucking sessions without eventually choking a fair bit.

Argent started to get feisty and disobedient, or rather, he at least resisted Banyan's tugging and forceful guidance--which I knew would just make the Dalmatian get more rough and commanding. Neither me nor the husky were disappointed, and now even Argent was having a hard time to keep his composure as my boyfriend forced him to give him a good, solid deep-throating.

A chorus of laughter rose up from the party crowd downstairs. No doubt we'd missed something hilarious, but Argent hardly cared. I could see that Banyan didn't, either. One jerk backwards had the Dalmatian's cock free of Argent's muzzle, and a long, gooey strand of saliva mixed with drizzle splattered down along the husky's front.

I could only kind of hear what Banyan was saying as Argent crawled up onto the bed. It was something about being a good little slut and hiking his tail or something; it was hard to make out because the husky's pulse was pounding so hard in his ears. It was considerably easier to get the basic gist of it, because Argent hurriedly pulled the cutoffs from his legs and stayed up on all fours on the mattress, wearing only his messy tank top.

Argent's heart pounded even harder as Banyan got up on the bed behind him and pressed his erection between the husky's cheeks, underneath his curly tail. This is what he'd been waiting for, poor Argent, only able to satisfy his urges once a month like this. I suspect he'd be a little less horny if he were around more often, though I'd be lying if I said I thought he'd be any less of a slut.

A low, not-lupine-enough pseudo-howl rose from the husky's throat as Banyan began to slide his way in beneath that raised tail. I reveled in both Argent's satisfaction and his tightness as he pushed back, exceedingly eager to get fucked good and proper. Somewhere around inch three or four I lost track of where Argent ended and I began, and it didn't matter anymore.

Argent begged--I don't know if he begged for it harder or faster or just plain begged, because it's hard to keep track of shit when you're feeling both yourself and someone else getting fucked at the same time. Whatever the case, Banyan obliged, thrusting both harder and faster, and soon I was fixating on minor side-details--the way the bed creaked as it rocked, the feel of the sheets between Argent's curled-up fingers, the pale blue color of the walls--just to stay even remotely sane there in the moment.

The weight on the bed shifted as Banyan leaned forward, his paws grabbing Argent's shoulders for leverage. The Dalmatian used his new position to his advantage, pushing the husky both down and forwards as his hips drove into that tight-but-willing rear. Now the room didn't smell like Derek anymore, but instead smelled like nothing but sex, raw and powerful, and I wanted more than anything to make Argent jerk himself off, but if he tried, then Banyan would wind up plowing the husky right down into the mattress. I tried to search Argent's intentions to see if he even planned to get himself off tonight, but neither of us could concentrate well enough for me to be able to tell.

To our surprise, Banyan pulled out quite suddenly, and then he flipped Argent over onto his back. The husky looked up, ears back and eyes wide with shock, his tail thumping the mattress in confusion now that he was no longer getting fucked. He was too frazzled and flustered to say anything coherent as the Dalmatian crawled forward, grabbed the headboard with one paw and his cock in the other, forcing the latter back into Argent's mouth.

Derek's pillows cushioned Argent's head as Banyan worked his hips back and forth, his slick cock sliding roughly in and out between the husky's lips. Argent whined and groaned and I almost completely forgot where I was. By the time I reoriented myself, I could feel Argent pawing his own shaft with a fierce determination that I wholly approved of, and the familiar taste of my boyfriend's drizzle soaked right into the husky's taste buds.

I did what I could to warn Argent that he was about to get a big, salty mouthful, but I'm never sure how well the husky can even hear me. The caution seemed unwarranted, besides, as Argent soon had his fingers wrapped purposefully around Banyan's knot, and he kept squeezing good and hard until that thick cock started to erupt right against his tongue. The headboard creaked as the Dalmatian kept bucking his hips throughout his climax, something I knew he did whenever he was really, really pent up.

Somewhere in between Banyan's first and last spurt, Argent started to get off, too, making a lovely mess of Derek's tank top, and my mind almost lost coherence completely inside of Argent's head, trapped as it was between two canine orgasms at once. I'm so, so spoiled when it comes to quality voyeurism, really.

Argent closed his eyes, and I felt the mattress shift again as Banyan rolled off to one side and flopped down onto the mattress, panting and spent. The husky rubbed his own fingertips through the messy pools of jizz on the tank top and the fur of his belly, smearing it around idly as he enjoyed the scent lingering in the air. He then brought a couple of his fingers to his muzzle and licked them clean, which I appreciated, because that's the closest I can ever come to knowing what it'd be like to have Argent get off inside my muzzle.

And he's a good dog, and he totally deserves it.

"Thanks, husky," Banyan said off to the side. "You really are a fun one."

"Look me up sometime," Argent replied, his voice not having fully returned yet. "I'm always up for some more fun."

"My boyfriend and I were going to go clubbing next weekend. Maybe you could meet up with us." The Dalmatian brushed the husky's whiskers. "Plus, I'd love to see the two of you on the dance floor together."

Argent smirked. "Next weekend is no good for me," he said. "Maybe next month, though."

"Yeah. We'll see." It was a noncommittal thing to say, but I could tell from Banyan's voice that he was legitimately interested. But then, I've never known him to be uninterested in fucking easy huskies. "Are you, uh, good here? Did you need to change?"

The husky sat up more, looked down his own front, then laughed. "I'll figure something out," he said, and then he gave Banyan a gentle shove on the shoulder. "Go. Get washed up and get back to the party."

As the Dalmatian got to his feet, he chuckled, then went about buttoning his pants back up. He strode back over toward the door, and just before he opened it, he turned to Argent and frowned. "I do hope my boyfriend is all right," he said. "I should probably talk to him about drinking too much."

Argent withheld a smile. "I'm sure he's all right," he said. "Sounds to me like he's got a lot of friends looking out for him."

Hopefully, by the time Etzi thought to check up on me, I'd have turned back to normal. If not, then he'd stumble across a half-naked, semen-splattered husky where I should be sleeping, and while that wouldn't give me away, in and of itself, my friends would probably panic about not being able to find me. Maybe Argent wouldn't cover for me.

"Just try to enjoy the rest of the party. And I'm sure I'll see you around," Argent added. And then, though he didn't smirk, I could feel that he wanted to. "Oh, and tell your boyfriend I said hi. When you see him."

I wanted to tell Banyan that I loved him, but that wasn't something Argent could say, so instead I let the husky get away with that last bit of teasing. The little fucker.