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"Sure."

That one word resonated deeply with Andrew, and he had to suppress the grin that threatened to bloom on his face and split it in two. The two girls were staring at him, one with a jealous sneer and the other who looked like she was about to explode into a fiery rage. It was a usual response when Andrew denied someone in turn for offering another. It seemed more common amongst girls, who usually took it as some personal insult whilst guys guessed he might have just been straight or not interested. That being said... he'd met his fair share of dudes who'd thrown a fit before now when he'd said those two dreaded words of 'no thanks'.

Chris prodded the larger stallion in the chest,

"Hello? Anybody up there in that empty noggin?" He rapped the side of his head gently. Andrew shook himself alert, and let just the slightest break of his smile show,

"Sorry..." Andrew chuckled, a bashful note in his tone, "Meet up after classes? Around six, let's say, at that cute coffee shop recently opened up round the corner. I've been before, it's called Elle's Café."

"The one with the flower cart in front?" The stallion nodded, "I'll see you there, then."

Andrew stood their rather gormlessly watching the horse wander off with the two bickering girls, both harassing him for information, gossip, and all manner of things - most likely about himself. Chris merely cast a forlorn glance back, a longing look in his eyes that struck a chord within Andrew that made his chest ache. A chestnut curl fell across the horse's eyes as he blushed, and the Clydesdale went weak at the knees, and it wasn't until that Chris was out of sight did he finally recollect where he was, shaking himself back into the existence of reality.

Begrudgingly, he dragged himself back to where his bag lay, unzipping it and tossing in his book. There was no chance he'd be able to read now with the pseudo-date on his mind. He glanced at his watch; shit! He'd lost track of time! He had about three or so minutes to get to his next lecture on the other side of campus. Andrew hurled the bag over his shoulder and broke off at break-neck speed. Sure, he might get in trouble, but he was going for coffee with the most beautiful guy he'd ever seen. What could possibly get his spirits down?

---

The street was quiet under the evening's dusted sun. A low layer of gentle clouds had scattered themselves across the large canvas of light amber. The ambient warmth that emanated from the cracked tarmac rose through Andrew's hooves and radiated through his body. He took his time, having over an hour to spare before Chris's last class was finished with, so he figured he might as well save a table for them both.

Tucked away on a dainty little corner was the coffee shop, its hand painted signs and wooden, old fashioned tables and chairs. A few furs sat there now, either as couples or simply alone by themselves, trawling through a newspaper or a magazine. Andrew came to a slow walk towards the shop, and pushed open the miniature glass door, the ring of a tiny bell directly beside his ear that announced his arrival. A gleeful looking, young otter smiled up at him, her face perked and chubby with a characteristic happiness. Her chipper voice called up to him from where she stood at the front counter,

"Hi! Welcome to Elle's Café! I'm Jasmine, can I get you anything?"

"Oh... That's alright. I'm sort of waiting for someone..." Andrew hedged, hoping he would be ridiculed for information. He wasn't entirely comfortable with the thought of people knowing publicly that he was about to have a date with a guy a few steps away from where they were sitting. Nor did he want the coffee girl knowing, since she had that peculiar look about her,

"Are you sure?" Her voice faltered into a softer, more pleading tone that made the stallion feel a tad guilty, "I could whip you up something special; I can give you a little extra?" She added in a wink, and Andrew had to stop for a second, considering the very real possibility that she might be coming onto him. It happened a lot, more than he cared to admit. Sometimes the attention was nice, but when he wasn't in the mood to be disrupted... it came off as kind of annoying.

"Just, er... get me a coffee. Black, one sugar." He might as well order. He could get a refill when Chris arrived. The otter's grin became a fraction wider, and at that point did Andrew decide without a doubt that she was now becoming creepy, and most definitely coming onto him.

"Coming right up!"

He stood there rather awkwardly as she scurried about behind the counter, clunking and grinding the rustic-looking coffee machine that he could barely figure out the functions of. About him he searched for a free table that looked cosy enough for just the two of them, and he spotted the perfect one near the corner, beside the window that overlooked the sunlight street. It was a rather neat part of town, he had to admit, and he was glad he'd chosen to meet Chris here. He couldn't think of anywhere better... Only problem was the flirtatious otter,

"Here you go!" She handed him a traditional styled tea cup and saucer, and he looked from her to the cup, a perplexed but amused expression plastered across his face. She giggled and shrugged, "Sorry, silly me, I just assumed you were staying for a while," Her voice faltered again, but this time became more pitiful and saddened, "If you really need to go, I can put it in a Styrofoam cup for you..." She became visibly minuter, like she wanted the stallion to feel bad. Well, he felt bad, but probably not in the sense she wanted; he felt bad because she was wasting her time but he didn't have the balls to turn her down. He didn't want a scene the first chance he could get Chris alone and with him for once.

"No... that's fine. Thanks." He smiled, held up the cup and saucer as an ambiguous gesture of acceptance and made his way over to the table. The crockery was much smaller in his paws than it was in others, but he was willing to persist. He'd heard the place was good from his younger brother who'd brought a girl here once. He'd said the service was great, and the cinnamon swirls were to die for.

Andrew noticed a small slip of paper tucked haphazardly under the cup as he lifted to take a sip of the scalding brew. He plucked it off carefully between finger and thumb, examining the odd paper. Something was written on it. There was a smiling face, no... a winking face, with a phone number and Jasmine's name. The horse sighed, his head throbbing as he tried desperately to push the thoughts away of hooking up one last time with some girl just before Chris showed up. Whilst the idea sickened him, it's what his junk was telling him rather than his head or heart. He needed a distraction...

His eyes lit up as he reached back into his bag he'd slung over the back of the chair, tugging out the novel he'd been reading before. He found the page from where he'd left off, and for extra measure this time; he crossed his legs casually so as to hide any unwarranted attention from the friendly serving otter and any other on-lookers who might see his entertainment.

The two stood, panting breathlessly with tainted water swirling about their waists. Tristan lowered the wolf gently into the water, looking down upon him, his eyes ablaze with the afterglow of passion. The night was still young, and the horse was not yet sated. He tickled along Asher's jaw, peppering kisses down his neck until he was nibbling on hardened nipples, tweaking them. Women became dripping when the stallion had them attuned just right, and it was no different for males it would seem; the wolf was ready for another round, his maleness already burning and hard with desire, dribbling into the water.

"Brother... why did you not just say you had feelings for me?"

"I don't. Now shut up. Less talking, more fucking," The stallion growled; this was not love. This was not the flourish of a marriage. This was primal lust, an instinct to breed until one's burden was empty. The wolf was not a woman to be married, he was a tube of flesh to claim from both ends, to calm the horse's needs.

"But brother... the water is getting cold, yes? I would much rather go to the fire, where it is warm." This didn't make sense... the wolf was ready, they'd be done in just a couple more minutes, and sure Tristan was beginning to feel chilly, but once they were enacting the sin they would soon heat up. He snorted, shoving Asher off his length and sent him flopping onto his back into the water,

"Fine, but I want you to clean this..." He jabbed an offending finger at his sloping, cum-covered cock that was bobbing with each gentle movement of the stallion, "...until it shines. You're going to lick up every last drop." There, that should put him in his place. Asher seemed to blush uncomfortably, maybe because he had not been subjected to such commanding before, and he squirmed in the water, his erection never abating.

Tristan didn't wait to see if the wolf would follow. He merely stood to his full weight and waded back to shore, leaving Asher with the choice now to follow and serve him for the rest of the night or remain here, out in the cold, the wet, and the dark. Of course, there was little debate inside the wolf. Not only did he want this, he longed for this... He just hadn't expected the brooding, sullen horse to show a suddenly forthcoming side. He'd always figured the stallion would go for a female's wetness rather than opt for the bitter resort of a male's behind.

Beside the fire, Tristan shook himself dry, holding his paws out to the crackling fire as he waited impatiently for Asher to come to his senses and join him. He rolled his eyes as the wolf stumbled out onto the pebbled shore, his footpaws announcing his staggered arrival into the tiny camp they'd cobbled together. A battered, worn looking tent had been erected under the shades of a grand tree, and a few paces from it, where they stood now, was the miserably small fire that sputtered into the night. Tristan chucked one or two more branches onto the charring heap, and let the flames lick along the bark in a dance of amber chaos. He seemed more fixated with the fire than he did with Asher's rump now, and the wolf huffed at the male's imbecilic attention span. That was the problem with knight's, even back in his home land; they had the bodies of gods, the looks of angels, and the sexual lusts of demons, but only the tiniest of heads to command it all.

The stallion sat on protruding rock that struck up through the ground, keeping his hooves placed equally apart with some distance between them. Asher could see the still sodden length hanging lowly between the horse's thighs, a good foot or so still in length despite soft. The shimmering light reflected off its slick surface, and the wolf longed to merely grope his paw along its length, bringing it back to its majesty and commanding it for a second time.

He sat next to the stallion, on the ground though, and draped his legs away so that he posed like a courtesan might were she advertising herself to males upon a divan. Asher knew his body rivalled that of any lady; he'd spent a considerable while honing himself as he'd prowled the back alleys in the towns he found himself stationed in, often dressing in alluring clothing and giving men a better deal than the crawlers who took to the streets as well. His past was clouded with his prostitution, having taken up the game when he was far younger than most, and had found it to be rewarding for him. Both pleasure and money rarely came at the same time; usually he had to part with one to gain the other. Work for coin, coin for lust. But now... now he was repaying back one of the most smouldering knight's he'd ever laid eyes on in a long time, and he was enjoying every second of it. Idly, he traced his claw through the dirt as Tristan watched the flames steadily. He swirled it around and drew it closer and closer until it scraped the glossy hoof belonging to the horse. Sensing no rejection, he moved his digit upwards, stroking it lightly along the calf, the hardened muscle quite tense underneath his touch. Still, Tristan made no attempt to stop him, and Asher soon found himself massaging the legs of his accomplice, both his paws roaming freely across the calves and thighs. The wolf moved ever so slowly towards the stallion's groin, rubbing along the inner thighs until the paws fell upon their prize.

A sharp hiss whistled through Tristan's teeth, but still he gazed beyond Asher as though he weren't even a thought. Tentatively, the wolf ventured further forwards. He took the weighted flesh in his paws, feeling the warm pulse through the length. Asher reviled in its glory, breathing in the thick scent that emanated from Tristan's crotch. Despite having only bathed mere moments ago, the stallion certainly had a domineering aroma to him, one that made Asher weak at the knees, ready to submit. He fondled those giant balls too, rolling them around in one palm as they thudded together so solidly. It was intimidating to think that these weapons had been assaulting his ass moments ago, and he'd taken them so readily and with such ease. These balls had filled his hole full of thick, warm foal batter, and he still felt the slogging remnants swirling around his gut, clenching down his muscles to desperately keep the rich fluids in.

Acting on improvisation alone, and seeing no objections, Asher opened his muzzle and greedily suckled on the somewhat hard cock. The bitter taste of cum and his ass permeated his mouth, but he licked decisively, cleaning all that he could off the cock and moaning. He could feel immediately the quickening throb as Tristan became aroused, and quickly he gobbled down as much of the stallion's meat as he could before he knew he start having trouble. The phallus crown stuck out in his throat, and he could feel it push down deeply, stroking along his inner walls so deliciously. He loved that feeling of size, especially when it was clear that it was of monumental proportions, unheard or never experienced before. Asher had been with all sorts of males, from a pig that had blown a load that could have filled several buckets, to a lion who had had the thickest cock he'd ever come across, nearly as thick as his own thigh. But Tristan was a spectacle to behold; with his flat, blunt cock head and impressive length and girth, he made for a formidable partner.

_The wolf continued suckling the cock deep within the recesses of his throat, very much feeling the strain of the horse's hardened thickness now. It swelled within his mouth, making it impossible for him to even grunt out, his only appreciation coming from the low rumbles of satisfaction in his chest and the heavy wheezing through his nostrils. The medial ring passed over his tongue, and he did his best to probe it and tease it with his trapped tongue. He moved backwards and forwards slowly, his head bobbing at a gentle pace to accommodate the girth of this monster. Tristan seemed to be enjoying it, as each time the wolf hilted the horse, the meat gave a slight flex, and Asher felt the familiar sticky dribble of pre splash against his gullet. Now, the taste of his behind and the lingering bitter pre and build-up of sweat clung to his mouth, and it sent him tippling towards needing more. His nose often buried itself into the rough, thick pubic fur of the stallion, and he always inhaled deeply when he had the chance. _

This was allowed to go on for a prolonged time, and Asher lost track as he simply focused upon his task of sucking the stallion, knelt between those ripped legs. All that mattered to him was giving this male he had grown to adore all the pleasure he could, and he found his paws wandering and groping Tristan's body, climbing the rungs of his muscled abdomen, up the pectorals and then across his broad shoulders. The stallion grunted, feeling himself beginning to regain the sensations within his loins. He had been all the while vaguely aware of the ministrations to his crotch, and he wasn't going to say he opposed to them, only that Asher had taken his time with them. The wolf was teasing him, using him as a means of tasting the nectar of men. He knew the wolf raised his tail for those dominant to him, but this felt like strange. It was almost as though Tristan was beginning to enjoy the fact that the wolf was taking pleasure from this too. That was wrong. This was about Tristan blowing his seed and being done with it. It just seemed so much more titillating that Asher would get off on worshipping him too... and he was even allowing it...

Tristan growled, pushing Asher away so that he wolf stumbled onto his rump, sitting dumbfounded. He looked up at the stallion, who rose to his hooves, the firelight glistening off his sweaty body, the exertion of being sucked so expertly clearly having gotten to him. It looked intimidating, seeing the stud above him, bearing down with an intense fiery gaze, the wolf having nowhere to run. His own length swelled within its sheath at the sight, his mind racing to the thoughts of the stallion claiming him and using him for the desires of the night, over and over, whether the wolf liked it or not.

He yelped in shock when the stallion crouched down, pushing the wolf onto his back, his head between the stallion's hooves. Panic gripped him, as he feared the knight may crush his head beneath a single step, but he was mildly surprised when Tristan knelt down lower, greeting the wolf's greedy cock-sucking lips with his flared bludgeon of a head. Asher knew what to expect, and he willingly accepted his fate as the horse took his head between two powerful hands and began to thrust. Gingerly at first, until Tristan found the right angle to pierce the wolf's throat at. Once he'd found his path, he jackhammered deep into Asher, mercilessly pounding away as he braced his body against the ground. The wolf didn't stand a chance, and grunted and groaned as his face was well and truly fucked by the stallion, the meat pulling from tip to base swiftly, slamming his fat balls against his nose. Tristan massaged the wolf's exposed neck as Asher's head leant back for an easier angle, feeling the bulge of his endowment ramming deep towards the wolf's gut. He couldn't last long after that, the throbbing squelches, slickness, and caresses against his length sent Tristan over the edge. He crashed in his full length in one last time, trapping Asher beneath him as he came hard, the load being deposited directly to the wolf's stomach. A visible bloat soon formed, and Tristan grinned at the sight, his mind pretending his little wolf was pregnant with his foal. Despite it being a stupid thought, it made the stallion's cock throb just that little bit more.

The final dregs of warm seed oozed into Asher's throat just as the horse pulled out, finally allowing him the few gasps of breath he so dearly needed. Tristan slumped back onto his buttocks, watching the gasping wolf blankly, his drooping cock now in a lazy arch, dripping with spit and cum, now having released twice. Yet still he needed more... It had been such a long time. He needed this wolf more and he intended to get it. He waited a minute more for Asher to regain his composure before, rather out of character, asking,

"Would you like to sleep with me, tonight?"

The door the café clanged, and Andrew looked up from the book and glanced over his shoulder. Chris was here! Hastily, he snapped the book shut, and tossed it back into his open bag before jumping up from his chair. The young caramel coloured horse was ordering his drink when Andrew stood by his side, and he chuckled, looking up at the big Clydesdale.

"I'll buy that for you," Andrew offered gently, his voice soft and quiet. Chris hadn't quite seen this from the stallion, and so with bemused warmth he agreed, standing just to the side to let him pay. The young otter girl, Jasmine, was serving still, and she had her back turned towards the counter as she made up Chris's order. She spoke before she turned around, her voice somewhat decidedly flat, and not as exuberant as Andrew had first heard,

"That'll be four doll-" She turned back to face the front, and when she saw that it was Andrew standing before she did a double take, shocked, but nevertheless her eyes lit up with a certain shine, "Oh, hey there! I'm just serving this customer but I'll be right with you sweetheart!" She addressed Chris next, her tone becoming dull and bland once more, "That's four dollars." The Arabian shifted uneasily on his hooves, looking to Andrew for how he should respond. Swiftly taking the brunt of the blow, the bigger male spoke up,

"Actually, I'm paying." A look of confusion flitted over her face. For a moment, it seemed impossible for her to comprehend that Andrew, a male she was clearly pining for, was getting a drink for someone else, another guy no less. "I'm buying his coffee for him," he clarified, for good measure, and her face fell - only slightly, to be fair, but enough for both Andrew and Chris to notice.

"Oh..." She stammered, "That's... That's four dollars then."

Smilingly sheepishly, Andrew handed over the pittance of cash to the otter, almost apologetically as Chris took his coffee and trailed behind the Clydesdale, taking the seat opposite. The larger male pulled out Chris's chair, and the horse giggled in mild surprise, thanking him for doing so but that he needn't have done it,

"But I wanted to." Andrew replied bluntly and yet honestly. His face belied no insincerity, and Chris felt touched by the small gesture of gentlemanly etiquette. It seemed Andrew was the traditional type, which was good, because the young horse adored men who knew how to treat their loved ones.

"That was awkward," He started jokingly, nodding towards the otter who was now bitterly scowling at the Arabian stallion from across the café, "She looks like she's going to kill me."

Andrew sighed, sipping his cup gingerly. He needn't have looked back; he knew the looks of embittered, jealous furs who had wanted to be with him but he'd denied. It was worse when he was actually with someone, since they then became the target of all their hatred.

"Just try to ignore her... I wouldn't have brought you here if I'd have known she'd be like this." The small, soothing giggle from the horse sitting opposite him seemed to calm his frayed, frustrated nerves as Chris batted away the problem with barely a care in the world,

"She's probably just jealous I'm hotter than her."

"Oh, and what makes you think that?" Andrew liked this... this banter. It was normal; it felt casual, and fun. He didn't feel like he was forcing himself to talk, or that he felt like he had to carry the conversation.

"Well, I was hot enough to get your attention, clearly." Andrew spluttered, nearly spraying his coffee everywhere,

"Wait... what?!" He blushed, coughing on the searing liquid. Chris laughed a rich, careless laugh that had a melodic chime to it. It felt free... and Andrew adored it.

"You look so cute when you're all flustered," Chris grinned evilly, his eyes glinting with mischievous glee from over the lip of his coffee cup. Andrew muttered out some sort of thanks, but his heart swelled a size bigger when he took the compliment. It felt so much nicer coming from Chris. He'd been told he was handsome by many, and so it had become an everyday comment he'd shrug off. But from Chris, it felt like it mattered, and he took it to heart.

"I bet I could make you look cuter all flustered and bothered," He retorted carefully, making Chris turn an even brighter shade of pink than he. He laughed, finally joining in the amusement as the Arabian fumbled with his sugar packets. Soon, Chris followed suite, and they both chuckled with each other until it died down naturally.

Their conversation continued, reaching higher levels of understanding about one another. Chris learnt a fair deal about Andrew, and Andrew delved deeper into the mysterious stallion that had captivated his thoughts. He figured now was the best time to ask, so he braved himself, and boldly spoke up,

"Chris... would you like to go on a date with me?"

The Arabian stallion thought for a moment, and the hung silence made Andrew panic. Bile rose in his throat as he contemplated the thought of he himself being turned down, and it made his gut twist savagely at the prospect. He wanted this... badly, more than anything before until now. Chris smiled devilishly as he caught sight of the book poking out of Andrew's satchel.

"You're still reading that?" He nodded dumbly, words failing to form themselves, "Which part are you up to?"

"Tristan's just asked if Asher will spend the night with him..." He replied hoarsely, his throat dry all of a sudden, a cold sweat tickling his brow. Chris's smile widened, and despite his angelic look, Andrew still felt sick and nervous.

"Well... Asher's response is my response," Chris stood up and took his cup with him, winking at Andrew, "See you tomorrow in class, if you want to talk again."

The Clydesdale waited until the younger horse had left, waiting for the bell to toll sounding his departure before frantically scrambling for the book. He all but tore through the pages, searching for where he had been before, angry with himself he hadn't bookmarked the page. His fingers caught on the pages, a numb feeling invading them as he swallowed in trepidation, locating where he'd been up to before.

He read Tristan's question again, the words suddenly heavier to his tongue, his mind sluggish. Then he read Asher's reply, and his grip on the book abruptly tightened, and his mind sharpened to that one word.

And just like that, suddenly nothing else mattered to him.