FSE

Furry search engine

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--1

Spazz clicked over from one tab - an excessive essay on a subject that seemed only tenuously related to his major - to something more accessible to his tastes. The string along the top of the browser window read

XXX GAY BEAR-TWINK ACTION XXX

and what it promised was definitely more his speed.

His roommates were off enjoying their Spring Break, but not Spazz; he had too much to do. Too much studying to catch up on. Too many partied-out, oversexed nights to make up for. He had, by his own admission, spent most of the semester fucking around. Reminding himself of that, he clicked back to the essay, and he tried to force himself to read, to penetrate that over-inflated prose and try to figure out why it mattered to him. And he was successful in that regard - for all of ten seconds.

Licking his lips, promising himself it was just to X out that porn site's tab, Spazz hovered over it. Then, enticing him, the legend

XXX GAY BEAR-TWINK ACTION XXX

popped up in an info bubble. So he clicked over to it again, and he watched a video of a very cute, very reptilian twink - a komodo dragon, an unusual creature to see as a girly-boy - getting his asshole thoroughly reamed by a bear, one who met that criteria literally and figuratively, which the name of the video reflected; Bear squared nails komodo fag.

After abusing himself to an orgasm, Spazz tried to go back to the essay, but his attention was even more scattered after getting off. Deciding to just write off that day as far as study went, he shut down his laptop, and he flopped into bed, bottomless, with his smartphone.

A few meandering text message conversations led him to the realization that all of his friends had something to do, some way to occupy their Spring Break.

His most reliable fuckbuddies? Out of town. His tolerable, two-beer-queer drinking buddies? Getting trashed without him. He was going to chalk it up as a lost cause and maybe fill the void with a vibrator when he decided to text an old friend, instead; an out-of-towner, but someone who was always worth a visit. A friend whose parents saw him furnished with a gorgeous summer house and a bottomless checking account. And best of all, a friend who was easily enticed by Spazz lifting up his tail.

Spazz wasn't surprised that his friend was all for a week's visit. What was more surprising to him was that said friend's Ferrari had been confiscated by mom and dad after he ran it into the back of a pickup truck. He had been fine; the Ferrari had needed several thousand dollars worth of repairs, the bribe to the owner of the pickup truck notwithstanding. In his friend's own words:

if u wanna fuk u gotta get out here on your own

And that was what Spazz intended to do. Leaving with a duffel bag full of clothes and sex toys and only six dollars in his bank account was stupid; it was the kind of thing a spiteful and adventurous teenager would do, not a young adult in college.

But that was Spazz's way.

--2

Spazz was discouraged that thumbing a ride down the highway was such a fruitless endeavor, but not to the point of turning around and heading home. Yet with every car that flew past him without so much as slowing down, he felt his blood pressure rise and his patience fall in tandem.

Fuck it. I've walked this far. I don't need a ride.

That indignant resolve gave him the second wind he needed to keep walking through the heat of the day. He didn't even bother waving down any more cars.

Spazz's decision to keep walking was a fine plan, he thought, even after the anger passed. It was great exercise, and he was seeing beautiful sights - namely because the highway bisected a national forest, one so incredibly dense that even in the bright glow of the setting sun, the view beyond the trees was almost pitch black.

Yet when the sun disappeared over the horizon completely, and Spazz was surrounded by complete darkness, there was nothing beautiful about it. In fact, those woods - at least in Spazz's imagination - became the place where the police would search once he went missing.

Shadows lunged at him. Cars rarely came at all anymore, and when they did, he fervently waved and thumbed at them to no avail. An hour after total darkness settled in, and when another car flew past him, he whined like the frightened adolescent he was, and he lamented not bringing a flashlight.

--3

Ryan took a sip of the coffee in his cup holder, and then he went back to drumming his paws on the steering wheel in time to his music.

Naked from the waist up, windows down, night forest air blowing through his rugged mane of hair, Ryan felt alive and content. Loaded up on the flatbed trailer he was pulling were three reinforced cement culvert pipes, and their pilgrimage was taking him across the country. It was basically a paid vacation.

Only one thing could make a trip like this better, Ryan was thinking, as he often thought - then Spazz appeared on the periphery of his headlights, waving.

Ryan realized, when he tried to downshift and stop, that he was going much too fast with so much weight. When the brakes locked and his truck dragged its' tires to a smoking halt about a hundred yards past the hitchhiking lizard, he considered it a lesson learned, and a miracle that he hadn't jackknifed. Sighing a deep sigh of relief, he turned the music off, and he let his heart slow to a more agreeable pace.

--4

You've gotta be kidding me, Spazz thought, trotting up to the semi truck. At first, he thought it was stalled, but no; closer, he could hear its' heavy, low-register idle. He couldn't see it for the darkness, but thick skids from the truck's tires - and most of the ones on the abused, old trailer - were still hot on the pavement. The rank stench of scorched rubber mingled in with the ambivalently pleasant and acrid smell of diesel exhaust, and it perfectly set the tone for Spazz's immediate future.

The lizard tentatively stepped up on the running board to the passenger side door, and he peered in through the window with cautious eyes. He was ready to run at a moment's notice if he saw a gun or a knife, but instead of either of those threatening things, he saw the shine of a pair of orange eyes - and then the gleam of teeth.

"Evening, stranger," Ryan chortled in his low, implacably American voice. "Just about flipped the bitch trying to stop for you. Step back."

Spazz dropped back to the pavement, and Ryan swung the door open. The cab light came on in that instant, and when Spazz stepped back up, he was simultaneously amazed and fascinated by what he saw.

Like a second carpet, McDonald's and Burger King bags circa assorted fought for brand supremacy on the passenger side floor. A pleather seat with most of its' color baked away by the sun waited for him to sit on it; unlike the driver's seat, which was visibly sunken in around the trucker's wide ass, the passenger side was almost virgin. A stack of tiny pine tree air fresheners clattered together as they hung from the mirror's stem; the ones in the back were left colorless by the sun's rays, but they became more green in a gradient toward the front of the stack.

And then there was the grinning, overweight occupant of the truck - a wolf as black as the night, bearing only a streak of grey down the top of his snout to speak of his age. Every bit a bear in the second meaning of the word, he was huge; his arms were thick and visibly toned, and all of that was noticeable in spite of his naked gut. Whatever his age or his weight happened to be, he was handsome, and he looked charming. And besides that, you're afraid of the dark, Spazz's conscience said in a prodding manner. So the lizard - with a helping hand from the trucker - pulled himself up into the cab and tossed his duffel behind the seat, where it made a dubious crunch on more fast-food bags.

--5

Spazz yanked the door shut, and the light in the cab quickly shut off, but Ryan reached up and manually flicked it on. Spazz took the opportunity to study the trucker a bit more, and Ryan similarly sized up his passenger, but in glances - he had started driving again, working his truck up into gear.

"What's a good-looking boy like you doing out walking at this hour?" Ryan asked, speaking with no malice, or an unsavory, lusting inflection. "You run away from your folks or something? You don't look like you're much older than..." He thoughtfully licked his lips. "Sixteen? Seventeen?"

It occurred to Spazz that the old fart might have been hitting on him - then he realized that old guys tended to say good-looking without being queer. It didn't keep him from responding with indignity, at any rate. "I'm legal," he said with very clear petulance.

Ryan smirked. "I was just asking. Asking's legal," he glanced at the lizard, "but taking a kid across state lines is a felony. Chill out."

"Whatever," Spazz huffed. "I'm just heading out to visit a friend. I figure hitching a ride is quicker than walking. I was getting bored anyway."

"And that's why you flagged me down like a pretty girl in a horror movie?" Ryan said with a low chuckle, but only the tiniest of coy smiles.

Pouty silence.

This kid's kinda cute when he's pissed off - and I get the feeling he's cute all the time. "C'mon, I'm just playing," the old wolf urged, patting Spazz on the thigh. The lizard didn't flinch away from it.

"Yeah, yeah," Spazz sighed. "I'm heading up to New Desaint Falls."

Ryan whistled for that far-gone effect. "New Desaint Falls, kid? It'd take you a week to walk there. Must be something nice out there for you."

Spazz shot Ryan a smirk, and he nodded his head subtly. "Really nice, believe me."

Ryan smirked back. "Well, kiddo, hate to burst your bubble, but I'm not driving straight through. I'm not exactly a pup anymore - last thing I want to do is nod off and kill somebody."

"When are you stopping?"

The wolf gave him a soft shrug and pooched his lower lip for a moment. "Hour or so, maybe? I'm on borrowed time as it is, this shit coffee is keeping me wired, but I bet you anything I'm gonna come down soon. First truck stop I see, I'm pulling over."

"Guess that's when I start walking again," Spazz said solemnly; the effect he was going for seemed to be that of a hard-nosed wanderer. Ryan thought he just sounded bratty.

The wolf turned his radio back on, and Spazz was assaulted with the greatest hits of Lynyrd Skynyrd.

--6

The better part of half an hour came and went; Ryan finished what was left of his coffee, and the CD was almost over. Just as the lyrics in Free Bird gave over to the instrumental section, Spazz could suddenly tolerate no more of the music, and he snapped out, shutting off the radio.

Ryan glanced Spazz's way; though he had long since turned off the cab light, his sharp, canine eyes were reasonably adjusted to the darkness. "That was the best part of the song," he said in a pathetic tone. Spazz couldn't see it, but he was pooching his lip again, this time as if to cry.

"I can't stand that crap anymore," Spazz grunted, and he flopped against the passenger door.

"Me either. Song's over-rated. I'm more of a Gimme Three Steps or That Smell kinda guy."

That Smell is right, Spazz thought. Ryan didn't necessarily smell offensive, and neither did his truck, but he noticed a scent that was decidedly... musky. The old wolf smelled like ball sweat, and though Spazz rather liked that smell in some situations, he wasn't sure what to think of it on an old guy like Ryan.

"So what's your name, kiddo? I doubt you like being called a reference to the fact that I'm probably old enough to be your dad." The wolf grinned, and Spazz saw his teeth gleam.

"Spazz," he answered, quietly.

"That's your name? Really?" Ryan laughed; it was almost a giggle.

"It's what they call me," Spazz glared. He didn't like the route the conversation was on - not one bit. "What about you, huh? Is it Methuselah?" Then it was his turn to grin, but unlike Ryan's benign and playful grins, ones that evoked thoughts of a silly uncle, Spazz was trying to look outright malicious.

The wolf chuckled. "Real cute. Nah, Spazz, my name's Ryan. You can call me that. Daddy works, too."

Spazz bristled. "Why the hell would I call you daddy?" And yet there was a seed of curiosity there, too; of course Spazz knew what daddy meant.

"It's sure not 'cause you look like my bastard kid," Ryan said in a low rumble, his voice suddenly very lewd and sensual - it brought Spazz pause and made him blush.

No way this old guy is actually coming on to me. What the fuck? "Are you a fag?" the lizard blurted out, and he immediately regretted opening his big mouth when Ryan started laughing. It was a long, content belly-laugh; it was genuine.

"Damn, kid - Spazz - you're pretty forward, huh?" The wolf glanced at Spazz, now huddled in the corner the seat made with the door frame. He looked timid. Obviously, he wasn't sure what to expect. Ryan thought that was cute, but it occurred to him to ease the reigns back a bit. "You tell me, kid - do I seem queer to you?"

"I don't know," Spazz admitted. "Just, when you said daddy, I..."

"You thought I was saying I'm some gay-bear type? That I wanna bounce you in my lap and shove my knot up your ass?" Ryan said flatly, his eyes not deviating from the road. It made the words so much more potent.

"Well... Yeah," the reptile mumbled.

"Jeez, kid. Jeez," Ryan sighed. "Jeezus-fuckin'-Kereyst."

Spazz's pulse quickened. He felt his muscles tighten.

"Before I answer that, lemme ask you a personal question," the wolf began, his tone somewhat grim; Spazz nodded slowly, pointlessly. "You one of those queers yourself?"

"I, yeah," Spazz blurted, mumbling. He was in no position to play indignant; he was terrified of the huge trucker, and the pavement was going by much too fast for him to even think about bailing.

"And are you a size queen? You know - one of those gay boys who likes the biggest dicks he can find? Bigger's better?"

Warily: "Yeah?"

Ryan glanced at Spazz. His expression was deathly serious. Not even his eyes betrayed a single lewd thought. Turning back to the road, he continued. "What if I told you I was packing some ten inches?"

Spazz blinked, and then he started to grin. He had no interest in Ryan... Not yet. What if he's not just talking shit? Then what? Fuck an old guy? "Uh, I don't know," Spazz admitted.

"Hm. What if I told you it was...Black, and just about as thick around as a can of beer - don't tell me you never emptied one, kid - and had a knot right about as big as this?" Without looking over, he took a paw off the steering wheel, and he balled it into a tight fist in front of the lizard's face; it was enormous.

"I'd, uh," Spazz grinned in a mix of mischief and uncertainty, "I'd call bullshit. If you had a cock like that, you'd be in porn. You wouldn't be driving a truck."

"Would I?" Ryan snickered. "No freedom in porn, Spazz! Porn doesn't send you across the country. Besides, who'd wanna watch my fat ass bounce up and down?"

Spazz smiled impishly, and in his mind, the text

XXX GAY BEAR-TWINK ACTION XXX

appeared again. You'd be surprised, he thought. "So you're really packing like that, huh?"

"Maybe I am... Maybe not," Ryan shrugged. Again, he flicked on the cab light; Spazz blinked sharply in the sudden brightness, but in actuality, the light was quite dull. Invitingly, the wolf settled back in his seat; he had only one paw on the wheel, his left, and this left his lap completely open to roaming mitts.

Spazz stayed affixed to his spot for the moment, but the curiosity began to overwhelm him - that, and he was fairly sure that if Ryan was a queer-beater, he'd already be bleeding along the side of the highway. Slowly, with clear trepidation, the twink lizard scooted across the wide seat, and then across the gaudily-carpeted partition, taking care not to bump the shifter - then again, with all the difficulty Ryan seemed to have wrangling the truck into gear, Spazz distantly noted that he probably wouldn't hurt anything by bumping it with a foot.

Up next to the wolf, kneeling partly on his seat, partly on the partition, Spazz narrowed his eyes and slid his slender hand into the wolf's lap. He felt across the wolf's thigh, and then his fingers grasped the fly of his jeans. At first, he thought he was simply feeling the seam of the fly, but no - what he was touching made an ominous, cylindrical shape in the wolf's jeans. Spazz had felt enough of them to know that the thick object he felt was a sheath. "Holy crap," he squeaked, but he was grinning.

Ryan rumbled with a lewd connotation, but he kept his eyes dutifully on the road, even as Spazz groped and rubbed in exploration. "See? And you figured I was full of shit," he smirked.

"Yeah, okay, maybe I was wrong," Spazz said, but quietly. He squeezed tightly on the wolf's throbbing sheath, and it swelled; he could feel that even through the denim. "You said you're pulling over for the night?"

"Sure am," Ryan confirmed. "Too bad you're gonna start walking again once we get there. Guess I'm just gonna have to rub one out..."

"No, no, I wanna stay!" Spazz said, grinning, but speaking with urgency.

"Had the feeling you'd say something like that," the old wolf chuckled. Along the highway, he saw a billboard; placards displayed the emblems of any number of fast food joints, but he also saw one that bluntly read MOTOR LODGE. As good as some McDonald's sounded, he was hungry for something else. "Hey, Spazz?" he said, glancing down at the lizard for just a brief moment; Spazz grinned up at him with ravenous eyes.

"Yeah?"

"Climb on behind the seat there. You can't miss the cot. I'm gonna pull on in, get this bitch settled, and then I'll join you."

Spazz unhanded the wolf's crotch with some reluctance - but he nodded, and then licked his lips. Maybe I should hitchhike more often, he thought as he climbed into the narrow cell in the back of the cab, passing through a tattered blackout curtain into a dungeon of fast food bags and styrofoam coffee cups, beneath which was a wallowed-out, but soft cot.

The cab light just barely illuminated this segment of the truck, but he noticed a small, naked light bulb overhead; the pull cord brought it to life. Spazz took in the claustrophobic sleeping quarters, and he settled into the cot. There, the wolf's musk was most potent; not unlike before, it was powerful and enthralling, but not sickening like body odor - it just made him want the wolf.

Closing his eyes, he settled into the cot, intent on waiting for-- (that big, thick sheath, goddamn, if just his sheath is that big) --the wolf, but walking for most of the day had taken a greater toll than he realized. The soft jostling of the truck was like being rocked in a crib, and the drone of the heavy diesel motor was calming in a similar way.

Even with the lightbulb glaring down on him, Spazz's eyelids became heavy as if leaded, and he drifted off to sleep in the fetal position.

--7

Ryan parked amidst rows and rows of other trucks; some bigger, some smaller, most newer, but none about to rock as much as his was. In the heat, there was no need to leave it running. The truck died with an unhealthy, rattling shake, but Ryan seemed nonplussed by it.

After locking the doors and rolling up the windows almost all the way, he eased his way into the back of the cab, in the small closet of a partition that was his bedroom. The naked light bulb overhead shone down on his large mattress, but he was much more interested in the sleeping beauty atop it, which he admired from the threshold for a moment.

Curled up loosely, Spazz lay with his eyes shut, his breathing slow and relaxed. Coiled about his torso was his long, tapering tail.

Ryan was stricken by the boy's apparent innocence; it made him smile. Just some lost little kid, he thought, leaning back on the driver's seat, the curtain draped over his back. Ten seconds passed as he contemplated just snoozing in the front of the truck, letting the lizard have his rest un-molested.

The old wolf was, however, so rarely one to turn down a good fuck when it was presented, and Spazz seemed like he'd be an excellent one. He glanced down at his own crotch; dormant, but still tender in arousal. Guess I'm gonna agree with the old divining rod again...

The moment Ryan knelt on the edge of the mattress, depressing it with his heavy bulk and making Spazz roll subtly, the lizard awoke, but groggily. He rubbed his dulled eyes and he stretched, but he suppressed a yawn - only just.

Spazz was trying to look alive, as though he hadn't been snoozing, but Ryan was no fool. He'd dealt with problem boys of all kinds. "Morning, there, dozy," he said with a gravelly chuckle.

"I wasn't sleeping, old man," Spazz mumbled, and yet the residual tiredness of having the beginnings of REM sleep interrupted so fast made his words come out slow and marred. At any rate, before he could say a word more, Ryan kissed him and silenced him; Spazz took it and closed his eyes again, but not with intent to sleep.

Spazz was immediately stricken by the wolf's breath - or lack thereof. On an old trucker, he expected disgusting teeth and breath roughly as pleasant - and as toxic - as diesel exhaust, but no; Ryan had surprising hygiene. At this revelation, Spazz turned their shallow meetings of lips into a full-on make-out session; he teased his slender and forked tongue between the lupine's jaws, past jowls dried and cracked with age and short fur left bristled like a wire brush. He licked across the dormant giant of Ryan's enormous, slobbery tongue, but that was all it needed as far as coaxing went.

Laying one paw on the smooth hide of Spazz's head, bracing the other in the tired mass of the cot for support, Ryan put his tongue into action at once. It bullied through Spazz's own tongue and beyond the lizard's lips, and it slathered the innards of the twink's maw in hot, drippy saliva which Spazz had no choice but to swallow.

That cold-blooded twink tried to fight back, to adequately tongue-wrestle the handsome old wolf, yet there was no competing with a canine tongue like that. All he could do was lie back and take it, but he was good at that. He wrapped his arms around the wolf's thick neck, and he stroked through the unruly black mane atop his head. Spazz thought of what word fit Ryan best; the one he came to was rugged. It wasn't the kind of word he'd use for any of his peers, but for someone older and more mature...

Formerly stroking Spazz's head, Ryan's paw slid down the twink's body, and it began sizing up the beautiful boy. Over his chest, beneath his inoffensive armpits, underneath the skintight beater he wore and across smooth, cool hide - Ryan loved the feel of a twink, of a slender and feminine body. He lovingly traced the small creases of flesh he found, and he groped all around that small chest with his comparatively massive, padded paws.

Spazz cooed and moaned at Ryan's ministrations, his skilful molestation. How many guys has this old wolf fucked? Those paws know what they're doing, he thought, and he suffered a noticeable shiver from it. Maybe Ryan had fucked dozens and dozens of boys; who was to say how long he'd been nailing sissies in the back of his truck?

More like who cares, Spazz told himself, and he started to explore the handsome "bear," exhibiting the same interest and intensity as Ryan did. Young, slender hands made their way over the gluttonous, coarsely-furred mound of his stomach, its' size strangely enthralling in a way, and it would have been no-doubt delightful to cuddle up to.

Ryan would have been happy to deliver such a cuddling once he was done burying his bone. Spazz's reverent touch made him throb all the more, his body and mind aroused by the twink's willingness. He ground himself crotch-to-crotch with the lizard, his thick and bulging sheath throbbing through boxers, through two layers of denim, and through Spazz's negligible underwear - and yet the lizard could still feel every pulse of that thick cock-warmer.

Returning Ryan's kiss more fervently than ever - but with the same negligible degree of success - Spazz's hands slid down the curve of Ryan's belly and instead found purchase on the wolf's jeans. He couldn't palm the trucker's crotch, not with him pressed so flush and grinding, but Ryan noticed what the reptile was up to, and he provided ample space between their loins. Spazz took advantage of it immediately, snatching up the beer can-shaped and -sized outline of the wolf's sheath, squeezing it roughly in his weaker hand, using the more dominant and dexterous of the two to negotiate the trucker's fly.

Ryan's shaft started to bulge out of its' sheath, making a tent in his jeans that defied all description even at such an early stage. He let the kiss die, and between their lips was a long runner of saliva, a brand so voluminous and viscous as to only come from a canine's mouth. He used this freedom to sit up, kneeling and straddling Spazz's legs, giving the reptile that much more room to work, and to look. Ryan also took advantage of this space; grinning, he took hold of the twink's throbbing tent in a meaty, masculine paw.

Spazz grimaced, bearing teeth and clenching his eyes; unconsciously, he squeezed harder on Ryan's sheath. "Oh, shit," the lizard grunted, grinding his slender pelvis up into Ryan's mitt, begging for - and receiving - more gropes and rubs. They came with indiscretion, but brought immense pleasure, to the point that the lizard's own groping tapered off and his hands fell to his sides, where they pawed at the naked mattress.

The lizard's work was only half-done; he had popped the button Ryan's fly, but the zipper was still up. Ryan didn't care; he'd take care of that himself. He leaned in again, ending his groping on Spazz's comparatively small package by pressing himself crotch-to-crotch with the twink once more.

Again came the kiss, that slobbery, lewdly passionate meeting of lips that fast gave way to Ryan's tongue dominating Spazz's maw. This kiss was short-lived, however, merely a brief reprise, a stopgap between more lewd things. Notably, as Ryan made to pull back for the second time, Spazz wouldn't let him so easily; he held that long lupine tongue between his flat teeth and his soft lips for as long as he could, forcing the wolf to drag it out - which he did, and he let it remain floppy out of his mouth.

Spazz smirked at the wolf; around his tongue, Ryan smirked back, and then he obnoxiously smacked his tongue down on the lizard's face, and he slurped diagonally, from the corner of his jaw to the ridge of an eye. It made Spazz grunt, and he uttered something to the effect of eeewww, yet he didn't linger on it; not when sex, his favorite pastime, was just around the bend.

--8

Ryan pulled back to his more natural straddle again, and Spazz took advantage of the respite to sit up. After absently wiping the mild sheen of slobber from his face, he tugged his beater up and off, balled it up, and tossed it aside; finding it in the sea of Ryan's assorted crap would be an ordeal later, but he didn't much care at the time.

Ryan admired the lizard's naked upper body with a lewd, approving grin and a subtle nod.

Spazz could tell he was being checked out, and he liked that very much. With full awareness of himself, he posed and flexed, letting Ryan get his fill of the slender sinew of his young body.

Ryan interrupted Spazz mid-pose, pinning him to the mattress with a growl befitting a wild and lusting animal. Ears splayed, nose wrinkled, his orange, soulful eyes narrowed down to predatory slits, Ryan perused Spazz with great intensity. He nibbled his way all across the inoffensive plane of the twink's chest, across that which he had just explored with his digits. Occasionally, his tongue darted out and stole soft licks.

The sassy reptile was at a loss; he cooed and moaned freely for the rugged wolf, his arms forcibly splayed to the sides and above his head, touching the cold, metal walls of the cab. His pelvis was still flush to the old trucker's own, their swollen cocks throbbing together, by no means in synchronicity, but in satisfaction all the same.

That handsome wolf wasn't shy with Spazz to begin with - and even less so when the twink let his arms spread out. The intention was only to offer up the entirety of his chest, to appear vulnerable and fuckable - which he was - but Ryan took the offer a little bit further than Spazz expected.

Growling in lust, yet still exuding that good nature which Spazz had come to expect from Ryan in their short time together, the wolf bumped his nose into one of the lizard's armpits.

It made the reptile flush, and yet he didn't resist; something felt good about it. He was being worshiped by the trucker, and that made him smile.

Ryan wasn't indulgent with Spazz's armpit; he merely had an interest in the boy in every way possible. He loved to savor his partners, to taste and smell and feel them. After a pair of soft, testing sniffs - which were rewarded with only the smallest hints of musk - he stole one soft lick, the nature of which made Spazz suppress a giggle, and then he ended his teases with a kiss in that armpit.

The lizard began stroking through the wild, dashing mane of Ryan's hair, a fluff much more dense, more coarse than the durable coat that covered his body. Unlike anybody who he'd had before - or who had had him, more accurately - Ryan was a real man, an aged man. He was mature, considerate, and sensual for his years, and yet Spazz guessed he'd be an incredible fuck, too. Nobody built up so much amazing foreplay without delivering the goods in the end.

That handsome, attentive trucker groomed his way down Spazz's spectacularly feminine body, nibbling and gnawing on soft, red hide and teasing everywhere he went. Unlike his earlier teases, he didn't linger near the chest. Instead, he made his way promisingly south, pausing only at the boy's navel. There, he dipped in his tongue once, and he kissed the cute divot in the hide afterward, making Spazz shiver, coo, and dig all the more insistently into the old wolf's hair.

Ryan gnawed his way down around the boy's waist, where denim clung to slender hips but denied access to the most taboo flesh. Teasing was fine and well, but Ryan knew that, to be truly effective, it had to slowly escalate. With steady fingers, he tugged down the fly to Spazz's zipper; Spazz tended to the button himself, popping it with arguably greater dexterity than Ryan would've shown in his position.

The end result was the same; Ryan pulled open Spazz's fly, and beneath lay the snug, heavily-tented fabric of a pair of briefs. Ryan was actually surprised; a boy as sure of himself and sexy as Spazz wearing anything besides a g-string was almost unheard of, but Ryan liked the way some snug briefs looked anyway.

"Nice-looking lump you got there, kid - not kid, Spazz, sorry. Force of habit." Ryan glanced up at Spazz with a pang of sympathy, but then he grinned.

Spazz grinned back, and yet he was blushing. "Getting all hot on my cock, old man? I don't mind blowjobs, but I figured I was the catcher here." He pulled the wolf's pillow closer, and on top of that, he folded his arms and rested his head on them; it gave him enough of an angle that he could sneer down at the wolf, and he did so like a spoiled prince.

Spoiled fucking queen, Ryan more appropriately thought, but he kept that to himself. Not out of decency, but a lack of interest in antagonistic endeavors. He wanted nastiness and sex, not a silly argument - although those were fun in their own right. He sat up, and he helped Spazz out of his jeans, freeing up shapely legs, but leaving the lizard's sneakers on; leaving the shoes made it so much sexier, somehow; given how he didn't seem to care that they stayed on, Spazz either held the same opinion, or it just didn't occur to him.

Leaning in closely, his long, grayed snout in the crook of Spazz's sharply-cut legs, it appeared that Ryan was on the fast track to blowing the cute lizard, just as Spazz had jokingly suggested. He ground his muzzle into the unmistakably phallic bulge, and he rumbled in pleasure and contentment.

Spazz was less composed than Ryan, emitting a grunt and then a long, cooing moan, taking to the nuzzling well. The swollen flesh of his member left a musky, small stain of pre close to where the tip resided.

Ryan dragged his long tongue across this almost unnoticeable saturation, merely a small discoloration of the otherwise snow-white fabric. It was questionable if Ryan even know what he was licking there or not, but to Spazz, it didn't matter at all. He could feel the wolf's strong, long tongue even through his briefs and it made him throb.

Spazz's joking allusion to a blowjob gained even more ground with Ryan's next motions, for the wolf bit around his shaft, gripping the briefs but nothing more, and he pulled downward. Once the lizard's flesh was free from his jaws, he bit down more firmly and pulled the briefs down around the boy's knees, which was good enough for what he had planned next. Leaning low once more, Ryan neared Spazz's ready and waiting crotch.

The lizard closed his eyes, and he lay back on the pillow with a content sigh; he felt the wolf's hot breath huffing across his loins, and then he felt that cool, craggy nose bump his tender, bared glans... And then something unexpected happened.

Ryan moved lower. He first planted a kiss on the demure coin purse that was Spazz's scrotum, and then he nosed his way up beneath it. With a broad, rude lap, Ryan licked across the lizard's tail hole, and it made the cute twink shudder and moan; he curled his toes helplessly inside his sneakers, and his snug orifice clenched beneath the trucker's tongue.

Knowing full well how good it felt, Ryan assaulted Spazz with everything he had. Lick after lick left the surface of that pucker and the surrounding soft hide of the taint and the tail base smeared in hot, drippy saliva. Under Ryan's sloppy technique, Spazz cooed and moaned and inarticulately whimpered the praises of the old wolf's tongue.

It only got better for Spazz; among a small circle of young faggots, Ryan's rimjobs were a legendary affair. Shoving his tongue against the quivering ring of muscle that was Spazz's tail hole, Ryan set about defying that clenching little pucker, pushing against it harder and harder as if to penetrate it - which was exactly what he intended to do, and also, it was what he did. That long, shameless tongue eased past the reluctantly-yielding pucker, into the embrace of trembling, tender walls, its' entry met with a low, but long moan from Spazz, whose tail lashed and cock throbbed harshly, delivering heavy globs of pre to its' owner's chest and belly.

With work-worn but loving paws, Ryan stroked the slender muscles of Spazz's thighs and along the similarly-inoffensive hide that served as flesh on his flanks. He worshiped and adored Spazz in every way possible, and yet the star of his actions was that rimjob. Deep, lewd, unrelenting, his tongue stretched and slathered the young reptile's walls, depositing great amounts of saliva, leaving the anal walls well-lubricated for what would be, no-doubt, an enormous cock; a knotted beast for the ages.

Spazz couldn't contain himself; Ryan couldn't blame him. The boy took hold of his shaft, and he started to furiously pump it. On the soiled cot of Ryan's bed, he thrashed and writhed, whipping his slender body this way and that, all the while cooing and moaning like an unhinged whore. "Ooh, fuck, fuck, baby - yeah, that feels good, Ryan," he cooed to the old wolf, his hand making a lewd, constant, wet slap on his own meat.

More subtle, and yet easily noticeable, was the wet slurping and slopping that came from the lizard's lovingly-stretched asshole. Ryan's tongue was malleable, yet thick; mostly yielding, but rigid when the wolf put the energy into tensing it for a slurp - which he did with some frequency. Largely across the reptile's anal walls with no discrimination, but sometimes over that tender, hiding prostate with deliberate attention, the rimjob Spazz was getting wouldn't soon be forgotten. The lizard doubted if he'd ever meet another man who could so enthusiastically eat somebody's ass, but it was all the more reason to savor his time with the trucker.

Ryan thrust his tongue in as far as it would go; the tip tickled flesh that Spazz hadn't reached with the biggest toys or the most exploratory of friends. It made that cute boy squeal in delight, and he thought he might cum then and there, but his orgasm didn't strike just yet.

That rimjob came to an unfortunate end; Spazz thought to beg Ryan to keep going, but words failed him. Pleasure almost like an orgasm made his tongue rubbery, his language incoherent and mumbled.

Ryan just smirked. "Yeah, tell me about it," he chuckled, and then he moved up to his knees. "Ahem," he grunted, and that had its' desired effect; even as dazed as he was, Spazz glanced down.

"Drum roll, please," Ryan chortled, and he started to tug down his zipper.

Something occurred to Spazz here; Ryan obviously had an erection, and he was slowly freeing it, but the sheer scale of what he was looking at was awe-inspiring. He thought, from the size of that lump alone, that the wolf's fly should've burst open. Watching him try to negotiate the zipper over that colossal bulge was sexy in its' own way. How hung does a guy have to be to make fighting his fucking zipper hot? Spazz knew he was looking at the answer.

Ryan undid the button, and he opened his fly, though that was an unnecessary gesture; his member was already peering through the denim flaps, yet it was still contained by the silky, stained fabric of his boxer shorts. With a little knee-dance, he squirmed out of his jeans and kicked them away. Afterward, he did away with his boxers with just as much contempt; there was no need and no desire to tease Spazz with his bulge; that was old news. The sight of the flesh was the next big thing.

Spazz leveled his eyes on Ryan's manhood; big thing, indeed.

--9

"Holy fuck," Spazz grunted, his face a grimace. In inadequacy, and perhaps fear, his own erection dissipated - but it would return at a moment's notice.

There was no sugarcoating Ryan's size. It was every bit of ten inches; maybe a foot. Maybe not. It didn't matter, because it was simply large. Spazz guessed, more-or-less correctly, that its' girth was that of his own ankle; a menacing shade of matte black made it all the more enthralling to gaze upon. At the base, throbbing, was a knot - but, of course, it was at a scale to match Ryan's phenomenal endowment. Spazz couldn't reconcile that thing's size in any coherent way; like the cock itself, it was also large.

Ryan scooted closer, and he slapped his cock down on Spazz's own, which instantly began to swell up again. There was no comparison, none whatsoever, yet the old wolf contentedly frotted into the boy; perhaps that lack of competition was why he loved the contact so much.

No wonder you smile all the time, Spazz absently thought, but at the forefront of his thoughts, raw pleasure dominated. He reached down and he clutched the big wolf's bone.

"Like that, kid?" Ryan growled, grinning. He made no effort to add in the lizard's name that time. With his cock out, Spazz didn't have a name; he was just kid, and Ryan was daddy.

"It's big," Spazz cooed, squeezing it, palming its' knot. The tip squirted a huge amount of musky, slimy pre all over the lizard's chest; that spurt was almost the size of one of his own orgasms. "Holy shit, it's big - oh my god," he shuddered.

"Oh my god - yeah, they tend to say that a lot," Ryan snickered.

Against Spazz's more delicate, chilled scrotum, Ryan's colossal balls felt like a fur parka; the difference in textures and temperatures brought Spazz more pleasure than Ryan.

"Bet you ain't seen a dick like I got, kid..." the trucker rumbled, idly.

Snapped back into reality, Spazz became aware of what a sissy he'd been; that was no way for him to act. It didn't matter how hot that wolf was, how hung and how skilled he proved himself - Spazz was cooler than that. "Yeah, well, outside of porn, nah," he admitted, still pawing at that huge shaft, "but unless you know what you're doing with a dick like this, it doesn't matter."

Ryan drew his jowls up into a sneer, one that almost appeared as a snarl, but humor and disbelief were too obvious for that. "Kid," he growled, "I ain't some teeny-peeny fuckbuddy of yours. You're gonna get your asshole knotted by a real man tonight, baby."

And despite all efforts to be cool and steely, Spazz shivered and blushed; Ryan was too sincere and authentic not to fear.

--10

In full awareness of the lethal weapon he had between his legs, Ryan held his member tightly, the bottom of his paw bumping the bulbous knot, while everything beyond his digits grew more textured with veins and loosed a strangled wad of pre.

"You ready, there, kid?" he asked, yet unnecessarily, since he already had the behemoth up under Spazz's balls; he hadn't bothered to lift them, he simply nosed his meat up under them. With practiced skill, he guided the pointed tip of his penis to the lizard's pucker, still slathered obnoxiously in saliva, now with lupine pre adding to the mix.

Spazz cooed in response to the contact, insubordination temporarily stomped by Ryan's breezy dominance. "Born ready," he hissed. They shared a grin.

"Heard that shit before," Ryan growled, and he began pressing forward; his wide, but tapered tip slowly gained purchase in the tight, tongue-fucked pucker of the lizard's tail hole, and the dramatically widening shaft was muscled inside with necessary consideration. "Heard a lot of screaming afterward, too."

The twink grimaced, showing his teeth and clenching his eyes, arching his spine and emitting a hiss of noticeable discomfort. Oh, fuck, that hurts, Spazz thought. Regret occurred to him, but it was brief, simply an isolated pang. That slutty desire was quickly in command again; he was being stuffed, his long-lost daddy issues succinctly hushed by this appropriate partner's endowment.

Entering him slowly, defying his far-from-virginal walls, Spazz could feel every beat of Ryan's strong heart, every dribble and bead of pre that left his lupine endowment. The feel of his anal walls conforming perfectly to that canine dick brought waning pain and increasing pleasure, leading to a sweet cacophony of whines and coos that told Ryan what a fine lay and manly stud he was - old news, but that which bore repeating.

"Yeah, babe," Ryan chuckled, unhanding his member; guiding it was no longer necessary. "You're a tight boy, aren'tcha?"

"Mhm," Spazz squeaked, the sound coming with some difficulty. His own cock, inoffensive by comparison, shot a meaty wad of pre that diffused and dribbled on his smooth belly-hide.

"Ever have a big knot like mine?" the trucker murred, while that very gland inched closer to Spazz's quivering, stretched pucker; if that asshole wasn't already at capacity, that limit would be met and exceeded before their romp was through.

"Once..." Spazz gasped. "Maybe twice..."

"Once or twice," Ryan tutted, his face overtaken with a lopsided grin. That dreadful knot finally kissed up against Spazz's damp pucker, throbbing against it, threatening it without words, without any kind of rationality; it simply was, and its' threat was that it simply would be inside of him soon.

With that complete entry and Ryan's pause that came with it, Spazz was allowed a respite, in which he grew accustomed to the unreal cock inside of him. His feistiness returned, not in full force, but enough to make him cute. "Luh-look," he quaked, "I party, I drink - maybe a little too much sometimes. When you look as good as I do, and you get fucking trashed, stuff happens."

"Stuff happens, you party with dogs, and you wake up feeling like someone shoved an apple up your ass?" Ryan grinned, and he started to ease back.

For Spazz, the exit was more accessible than than the entry, but he knew that, in time, it would all become pleasure; the initial pain made for a sharp contrast, however. "Mmh, yeah... Yeah, I guess so," he sighed, but dreamily - not in frustration or pain.

"Yeah, apple-sized knots," Ryan murred, licking his lips. "Mine's a grapefruit, though," he sneered.

Spazz exhibited no reaction beyond a blush; it made Ryan grin.

The wolf's tip made it back to the start, but before he could exit the lizard, he pushed back in, defying loosened, yet re-tightening walls. Repetition would leave the boy temporarily loose, at least to the point that the wolf could wrench in his fat knot, yet that goal was a ways off. If his years of boning cute hitchhikers had taught him a thing, it was that sex was a thing to savor.

When his knot again pushed into the stretched pucker of Spazz's asshole, he pulled back, his hips moving with surprising grace for all his weight and size, that slow, almost sexual sex turning into a real fuck as more time passed. Frequent squirts of pre added to the voluminous lubrication of the slobber, and it kept the sex smooth and slick.

Spazz still felt twinges of discomfort, the outer edges of that special kind of pain only anal penetration brought with it, but they were dull compared to the steady rush of pleasure.

Freely, the lizard masturbated, and just as freely, he moaned out and cooed to Ryan. Gone was that cringe, and though his lip occasionally quivered with small pangs of discomfort, he largely looked relaxed and content. His eyes conveyed this even more, gazing into the deep, fiery orange of Ryan's own pupils, stricken by the trucker's sharp gaze.

Ryan's eyes were lovely, and Spazz distantly noticed this. Bright, clear, not a hint of cataracts, nor were they bloodshot. I've never noticed eyes before - never cared about them. This guy is so handsome, he thought, and he shivered. Though holding his cock in one hand, he pulled Ryan down by the chin-scruff with the other; the trucker came down easily, and he kissed Spazz before the lizard could even telegraph it.

Slobbering madly in the lizard's mouth but gazing lovingly into his reptilian eyes, Ryan was every bit a skilled lover and a lecherous old man simultaneously. Those thick hips collided with the lizard's splayed legs over and over, the impact as rough and almost as intimate as that of his knot against that yet-unyielding tail hole. The handsome, obsidian flag of his tail wagged over his wide, and yet surprisingly cute ass; it bounced, clenched, and heaved with a notable lack of jiggling fat, betraying the hint of spectacular musculature hiding beneath such pliable flesh.

Hanging low, swinging up harshly, the fat sack of Ryan's scrotum dragged across and smacked into the young reptile's tail, which flicked and twitched listlessly, its' owner lost to anal pleasures and the acquired aesthetic wonders of the wolf's charming face.

Spazz wasn't falling in love with Ryan; neither was the type for that. Maybe, in some more crude way, he was already in love with some of the trucker's attributes, and he did like the old man's attitude, in spite - perhaps because - of his ease in seeing through the tough-guy acts. This old wolf isn't a bad guy, the lizard broadly thought. Damn good lay, too... He emitted a listless whine, and his penis throbbed in his own stroking, rubbing grip; Ryan knew that sound meant his young friend wasn't far off.

That time already, huh? the wolf thought, and he redoubled his efforts, thrusting harder, faster, making the heavy truck oscillate back and forth, yet the movements were rendered subtle by the anchoring weight of the pipelines.

The sounds that issued forth from that energetic fucking were lewd and unabashed in that regard; meaty, wet slaps filled the small closet and dissipated quickly against its' metal walls.

Ryan broke off the kiss, aborting it in mid-suck, leaving a mouthful of saliva running down his chin and Spazz's snout. Neither bear nor twink minded it; Spazz was too involved, too in love with that ruthless assfucking, and Ryan was just too intense once he was about to get his rocks off.

Burying his bristle-furred snout in the crook between Spazz's neck and shoulder, working on burying his knot in a manner far more intimate, Ryan abandoned any semblance of composure and sweetness in favor of rude, efficient sex. His knot punched against the widening pucker of Spazz's asshole, still form-fitting to that lupine cock, yet spreading with less reluctance every time.

Spazz whimpered and huffed, calling out to Ryan with inarticulate jumbles of syllables and minced praises, catching his breath only in terse snatches for air, which led to further assaults of the ambient musk, which he became a thousand times more susceptible to in such a heightened state, so close to his release.

"Rrf, fuck, fuck, fuck!" Ryan grunted through clenched teeth, the words almost completely lost to brainless snarls. Even with all that weight, the truck now heaved violently; Ryan's brutal mating was an experience Spazz would never forget. His full knot spread Spazz a bit more with every thrust, that loosening tail hole admitting more of its' rounded edges with every fleshy punch, each one met by a blissful squeal from he reptilian twink.

That moment of gratification came for Spazz at last; in his sweating, pumping palm, his cock twitched and throbbed, and then it erupted with a few streamers of chilled cum. He bit his lip and cooed the praises of his orgasm.

Ryan didn't see the lizard's cum, not pressed so closely to him, but he smelled it. He felt the clench. Time to punch out, kid. Grimacing tightly, his face no longer handsome, nor charming, but the menacing and vaguely lewd scowl of a big, bad wolf, Ryan smashed his hips into Spazz's once more, then twice more. The third time-- is the charm, oh, fuck, shit, he's tight, --saw Ryan's gigantic knot plow past the quivering threshold of Spazz's asshole, sinking in with a wet, sucking pop! whose lewd sound pleased Ryan's ears - and Spazz's ear-holes.

After the tie, Ryan heaved, shuddered, then groaned out long and hard. The jizz that entered Spazz was heavy, creamy - it stuck to the twink's walls like hot glue. It burned pleasantly, and it pervaded his body deeply. That fertile, monstrous load filled Spazz to capacity and then some, for the excess oozed out around the plug of the wolf's knot, sullying his sheath and balls, doing the same for the underside of Spazz's tail.

"Shit," Spazz grunted, finally unhanding his own cock. With shaky, jism-smeared digits, he stroked Ryan's face; he could clean the wolf off later, but for the time being, for that afterglow, the mess was perfectly acceptable.

Ryan shuddered deeply, and then he sighed. Lifting his muzzle from the curve of Spazz's shoulder and neck, he kissed the lizard on the lips with reserve, and then he chuckled weakly. "I'm not bullshitting you, kid - that was one of the best lays I've had in at least a couple years."

Spazz let his guard down for just a second; in that rare instance, he admired Ryan and loved his affections. "You know what, Ryan? Ditto."

--11

The next day, Spazz was noticeably more polite with Ryan; he joked and laughed with the old wolf, finding the trucker's jokes and quips more funny than aggravating. It was no surprise that such a good lay did wonders for his attitude.

As they rolled off the highway and into New Desaint Falls, Spazz noted that a construction project was going on; a handful of other trailers like the one Ryan was hauling were lined up with massive pipes tethered to them, some in the process of being unloaded with a crane.

"I'll drop you off at your friend's place, deliver these on the way out," Ryan said, glancing at Spazz before taking a fairly sharp turn into town. "Where's he at?"

Spazz told him, and after a few minutes of hunting for signs, Ryan stopped on a very quiet road, a fairly long walk from the beach house belonging to Spazz's friend's rich parents; the tiny driveway wouldn't admit a truck like Ryan's. It was barely large enough for a fender-bent Ferrari.

"Well, hey, kid," Ryan said, glancing at the lizard with a smile, "it was a fun night."

"It was," Spazz said, quietly. Bag in hand, he started to open the door, but then he stopped and turned back to Ryan, leaned over, and kissed the wolf. "Thanks."

"Likewise, and you're welcome. Hope I didn't wear you out too much for your friend." A grin, a wink, and a small jab with his elbow.

Spazz smirked and blushed, and then he hugged Ryan tightly. There was some implacably intimate quality about it, but Ryan didn't dwell on it; he just squeezed the lizard in return, and he rumbled warmly.

When the hug ended, Spazz nodded respectfully to Ryan, opened the door, and hopped out without a word. Without looking back, he padded out to the beach house.

The wolf watched Spazz for all of ten seconds, smiling ruefully. "Good kid," he said to himself, reaching into the glove compartment, emerging with a battered carpenter's knife. "Real good kid."

Peeling back the ugly carpet on the shifter partition revealed dozens of scratches on the worn plastic beneath the likes of which one might see on an inmate's wall to mark the days. Grinning, he scraped in a fresh line, dropped the carpet, tossed the knife back where he got it from, and drove off to deliver his load.