The South Will Rise Again
_Toonces, the Driving Cat, the Cat Who Could Drive a Car
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It was a hot day, but anyone who lived in Plumb, AR wouldn't need to be told a day in July was gonna be a scorcher. People woke up and didn't even think about what shirt to put on, just lumbered over to the fridge for a cold one to combat the heat. For some of the folks in Plumb this embodied why summertime was the best time. This was plainly evident for the two coons sitting together chatting amiably if not nervously with each other, each trying to catch peeks of exposed tummy without the other seeing. They wore only faded jeans, their stomachs crowding the faded fabric but not threatening to bust the seams or anything, the kind of chub that in the North might make you look lazy but in the South just makes you look friendly.
"Ah dunno Glen," the coon said to his friend, his eyes darting up to eye level and back down to the bed, trying to pause on the trips back and forth just long enough to catch a glimpse of the other coon's full body without being caught himself. "Ah jus' don't thin' we should. Ya know I'm jus' as hot as you are but... Ah dunno..." The heat pulled on the words to drawl a little longer than they typically would, not to mention the burning sensation at the back of his suddenly light head.
"Aw c'mon, Ricky. Ya won't stop hollerin' about the heat and I get a good idea for maybe the first time in my life and you don't wanna do it." Glen knew the real reason Ricky didn't wanna take his pants off to cool down. It wasn't something entirely uncommon in the area, really, but Ricky didn't think this was a common situation he was in. It was the same reason he didn't laugh the idea out of possibility the moment he heard it. Neither was dumb enough to not know that they were the only two fellas of "a less manly type," as their parents had put it when they were too young to hear the word "Gay." And neither was too much in denial of the fact that they liked the other, had liked each other for all the years they'd gone to that small and under-funded school together. If either had any credibility in denying the attraction, it had all disappeared after play wrestling had somehow turned itself into a rough kiss that was immediately played off as an accident as both coons hid the crotch of their pants.
It had been at least a week since that had happened, and Ricky was surprised when Glen called him over to hang out again. "We jus' won't wrestle again," Glen joked.
"I mean we can if ya want to," Ricky had offered, the natural southern politeness rising in his throat as he tried not to sound too hopeful.
"Goddamnit," Glen thought finally, "I was man enough to get us here. May as well not stop now. I might get beaten to death livin' in this town but I sure as hell ain't goin' out a virgin."
"I'll get 'em for ya, then," Glen promised as he scootched over on the bed, Ricky immediately moving back in self-defense.
"Glen, don't play, you're gonna..." his cheeks were burning, his voice was getting high and frantic. "You're gonna get us in trouble with your pa! C'mon, don't fool around like that!"
"Ah hell," Glen said, now crawling over to the other coon, "Fuck him," he said, and, having cornered the retreating coon against the headboard, lunged forward for a kiss. One that could never be played off as accidental. Ricky recoiled for only a moment, trying to formulate a story to get out of it, an excuse for why he could go home and still be straight, but the lips sucked the caution right out of him. Before too long he was returning the kiss with equal vigor, even helping as Glen unbuckled, unbutton, and unzipped his pants, slipping them off to reveal a simple but tight pair of white briefs. When Glen joined Ricky in pantlessness he displayed the same pair, just as tight, holding back a bulging package.
For a moment the coons simply sat still with one another, Glen rubbing his paws over the soft hills of Ricky's body, Ricky laying back with his paws behind his head and his eyes closed, moaning with tempered desire as he felt the tingle of discovery over his body. He'd always thought sex would feel good, but he was surprised how even now, in no more complex a position than sitting back with another fella's paws on him, he was in ecstasy. It was so taboo, so dangerous, even the drawls in their own voices gave them a start when they spoke. It was as if even their dropped G's and lazy R's promised a bit of danger, like they were strangers to their own dialects.
"Ricky, do ya mind?" Glen asked, his southern courtesy peeking in again. Ricky looked at him in confusion. "Ya undies, I mean," he said, blushing with the new tinge the word had taken on. He almost felt he could never again use the word at Wal-Mart.
Ricky shook his head and smiled, joining in the blush. "Please, go right on ahead," he said. Glen should have ripped the briefs off immediately, but a pang of uneasiness suddenly rushed over him. He'd seen other men without their shirts before, but he'd never even been in the same room with another naked fella in his life. He trembled with excitement, nervousness, trepidation... and finally, almost as if it was an involuntary spasm, he tore the briefs off and moaned at the sight of the cock. He wanted to comment on it being big or thick, but it dawned on him that he simply didn't know. All he knew was that he loved to see it. It poked out from under the chub with a slight curve, and when he grabbed it in his paw just the head stuck out. A drop of precum formed and slid onto Glen's fingers.
"I... I dunno if I'm big or anything..." Ricky admitted, insecure without reason.
"Shit, you're no smaller 'an me or anythin'." Glen said, pulling down his pants to display a member eerily similar, if only a little longer, thicker, and straighter than Ricky's. There the two sat, alone and naked in the hot room, sweaty from the heat and the nervousness, a little lost as to what comes after the one guy grabs the other's dick.
Wordlessly, apprehensively, Ricky leaned down before Glen, letting his ringed tail wag in the air, his nose at the coon's balls. He looked up as if seeking assurance that he was doing it right, but knowing the other coon was just as lost as he was, he simply dove into it. He took whatever he could into his muzzle without gagging, sucking and slurping with a beginner's ferociousness, acting on instinct and feeling out the other coon's reactions until he fell into a comfortable rhythm. Glen kept a paw on Ricky's head, scritching the ears, comforting him as best he could.
Soon, Ricky had slowed himself down to the point where he was simply savoring the cock, feeling the explosively potent pleasure of an unexpected salty taste on his tongue. Precum. He slurped it up, moaned with pleasure as if the juice was the richest chocolate. He hadn't expected a taste like that. He hadn't known what to expect at all, really, and it was all a pleasant surprise. The heady aroma of the coon's musk in his nose, the feeling of the soft pulses in his lips, the sound of his own smacking on the rod. It was all new, it was all amazing.
"Turn around," Glen ordered brusquely, as if he suddenly remembered something they were supposed to be doing. Ricky looked up, his tongue still cradling the cock, as if begging for another minute, which was awarded without argument. "C'mon now, turn around," Glen said again. Ricky obeyed this time; he turned around and lifted his tail, wiggling his big butt salaciously, eagerly awaiting what the coon had in mind for it.
Glen admired the plump ass, with his eyes, with his paws, even with his dick as he slapped it against the plush cheeks if only for a lack of any better ideas. "Jesus, Ricky," Glen admire from the back, his muzzle resting just under the bushy tail. "You're... you're... you're..." The coon gave up and simply buried his nose in it, making the other coon yelp in surprise at the feeling of a tongue in his ass. As Glen chowed down, licking and slurping and kissing the virgin hole with amateurish enthusiasm, the word came to him. "You're hot as hell," Glen said, and returned to his indulgence, kneading the cheeks which were full but taut, like it was struggling to contain all of itself, like you might be able to poke it and let all the air out. He spread them apart and sunk his tongue deeper inside, himself marveling in the taste of another man, sweaty though he may be, he was clean and that's all that mattered. He plunged his tongue deeper and deeper, loving his power to make the coon moan and writhe with pleasure, feeling already much more experienced than he was.
Ricky hadn't prepared for being rimmed, thinking the first time was something like a beginner's course, with only the basics before you graduated to the more advanced stuff. Now he couldn't have held back his moans with a ballgag, and he was all the more thankful for the fact that no one was around for at least a mile. He moaned freely, growing more comfortable with every lick, his remaining inhibitions disappearing as the tongue worked over and in his ass.
It was awhile until Glen's jaw got sore and he remembered that there were things to do after eating asshole. He sat up over the coon, who at the same time seemed bedraggled and tired but fresh and energetic. He was sweaty with excitement, a little exhausted from the rimming and the moaning, and yet still just as perky and ready for whatever came next. Glen had spent so much time between the cheeks he almost forgot what they looked like from afar, and as he stroked himself in one paw, working up a nice precum lube, he used the other to smack the cheeks and make 'em jiggle. Ricky yelped with each smack, finally adding "Hell, Glen! Whactcha doin' that fer?"
"Ya want me ta stop?"
Ricky thought for a moment, then wiggled his ass and invited another slap, the yelp in his throat fading away as a tingling sensation overwhelmed him. "I reckon not!" Ricky admitted, his voice climbing toward the end as another slap crashed down on his ass.
Soon a finger slipped into him, curled, twirled, and made itself comfortable inside. Outside, however, the coons were anything but comfortable, both of them practically tingling as they discovered inch by inch the depth of their lusts. A second finger worked itself in slowly, curling, rubbing against Ricky's most tender spot, something Ricky never could have guessed or prepared for. When the third finger squeezed in to the sound of a little groaning, a little panting in the heat, it knew just what to do, too. They pressed in, as deep as they'd go, searching for any other spots they might be able to tickle, new spots that would make the coon writhe all the more. They found them, too. And while Glen made Ricky squirm on the tip of his fingers, ears laid back at the height of passion, he stroked himself, a wiiiiiiiide smile on his muzzle like sitting on the porch sunday morning in the soft light. He couldn't have been more at peace, more full of eager, innocent excitement at his discoveries for the day.
Finally, his dick slippery and shining with spit, sweat, and pre, pressed between the big cheeks. He took the ringed tail in his paw and lifted it to see himself grind against the slick hole, Ricky moaning in anticipation each he time he thought the rod was going to plunge into him. "Ya sure ya want this?" Glen asked.
Ricky only answered with a moan. He was long past the stopping point, already.
"Well hell, then," Glen said and shoved his thick cock in the tight pecker. He'd expected Ricky to start and jolt, and the coon certainly did, arching his back and letting a belabored groan escape his throat, though it spoke entirely of release and nothing of real discomfort. However, Ricky hadn't expected himself to be overcome with a sudden and nearly blinding sensation when he felt the ass squeeze around him, clench his dick and make the trip to the hilt all the more amazing. There's nothing like that first time you you smack your hips against another guy's ass, when you feel that comfortable warmth around your dick, see the fella below you squirming and moaning, panting in passion as he grunts and tries to make himself loose to let you go deeper, and you think to yourself "I did that." It overcame Glen, and before he knew it, before he could even realize where his desires were taking him, he had two paws on the coon's wide shoulders and was riding him like a prized bull.
He threw the weight of his body into his thrusts, smacking his hips against the plump cheeks, his back straight and his toes curled as he made Risky moan with abject pleasure. "Ung," he said, as if it were a word, failing repeatedly to express himself. No word seemed right for the moment. "Goddamn," he fell into a habit of saying. "Goddamn, Glen," and "Oh shit," when the coon would pick up the pace, spread the cheeks and find a spot to torment. "Oh shit, Glen, Godda-ahhh!"
Glen wasn't without his own little verbal tics. He was grunting just as much as Ricky was as he drove himself with power into that ass, burying his dick inside, working every inch he had to get as much as he could out of it. He knew he wasn't huge (though he, like most inexperienced guys, was discounting just how thick he really was). But for as strong as Ricky reacted to it it might as well have been gold-plated and vibrating.
Just as much as the ass clenching around his dick, he loved the feeling of the soft body under his paws. In their rush to fuck he hadn't taken near enough time to explore the body he had admired from a distance for so long, hadn't had the patience to properly enjoy the fuzzy feeling of another coon's fur between his fingers, grey and sticky with sweat. He had been reserved and solitary for so long, had put off his desires for so long, the indulgence had driven him mad. He bent over and pressed himself against the body, bathing in the warmth, different even from the sticky heat of the oppressive day, it was something more... personal. Just lying in the soft fur felt so natural, so comforting, being so close to another breathing person, being able to feel them breath and pulse and twitch under your touch. It was almost immaterial he was fucking a tight, plump ass. Just being able to wrap his arms around another person and squeeze tight, to kiss the back ofthe coon's neck and nibble, it was heaven, it was ecstasy.
It was too much. "Oh fuck, Ricky..." Glen warned. "I'm gunna..." The word caught in his mouth. He'd never said it before. It's not the kinda word you usually speak to others, even- okay, especially to your friends. It flooded his mouth when he finally said it. "I'm gunna cum!"
He kept his word. His paws gripped the coon's meat and squeezed tight as he jackhammered home his lust. He was at full speed for a good while, hanging just barely on the edge of orgasm for a torturous eternity, unable to push himself over the edge, until finally a huff of the coon's musk did him in. He blew a load like years of repression emptying out in one giant splurge, drained himself of all of his concerns into the other coon's tight ass, his eyes shut tight in their dark grey frame of a mask. Pulling out, he stroked a few more jets onto the cheeks, as if he needed to see it for himself, to prove it had all really happened. The spooge was leaking out the hole, running down his crack, mixing with the sweat and soaking into the coon's fur. Had he really blown that much inside the coon? He had impressed himself, certainly.
Quickly, he shoved it back in, fighting through the oversensitivity that surprised him and made him yelp so he could stroke Ricky to a similar conclusion. Ricky groaned in just the same way Glen had, like releasing the tension on a spring decades old, like the draining of a pool, he emptied alll of himself onto Glen's paw. He was still panting with exhaustion when the paw was lifted to his muzzle, finding himself slurping at it, almost as if instinctively, cleaning the other coon's paw until it was pulled away so that Glen could share in the taste, too.
Turned over onto his back, Ricky stared up into Glen's eyes, who was playing with the coon's legs, rubbing them softly.
"You reckon that's how it's s'posed to be done?"
"I dunno," Glen answered. "Looks like what they done in that vid'ya I downloaded of that rock star and his boyfriend fuckin. I had a heluva time whether we did it right or not."
"Me too," Ricky admitted, and leaned up for a kiss.
"So..." Glen said curiously, playing with the coon's feet as he searched for the right words. "Whaddya say we make the South rise again?"