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"Rise and shine bro, we're gonna miss kickoff," I heard Ryan say from the hallway. Ugh.. I think I just need to take a week off and sleep for a few days straight. Between classes, homework, and the new lifting regimen I'd started with Ryan, every spare moment I had was spent either napping or wishing I could nap. Not tonight though.

"I'm up, I'm up. Just gimme a couple minutes," I hollered back, still underneath my covers. Tonight was the conference opener , and I had promised Ryan I'd go watch the game with him at the sportsbar down the street.

Since we'd met a few months back, Ryan and I had become close friends. I had even moved into his spare room. It made sense to save on rent since I spent most of my time here anyway. That and it was nice to have a super hot booty call sleeping a few feet away. Maybe I'll even get a little tonight after the game. That is, if some smoking little college girl doesn't scoop him up while we're at the bar.

When we'd met, Ryan had admitted to me that he was straight, but bi-curious. I could tell he definitely wasn't gay, which was loudly confirmed the first time he'd brought a girl back to the apartment. If she had not been saying, "YES! YES! YES!," the whole time, you'd have thought he was torturing her in there. Not that I could blame her for being so vocal. I knew first hand how good he was in bed. Plus the sounds coming from the next room made for great material to paw off to. Which I did. Vigorously.

A few nights later I returned the favor anyway, when my friend Henry came over for the night. Henry was a little otter that I'd known since high school. He came over occasionally for some casual fun. I'd told him about Ryan, and ever since then he kept insisting on bringing him in for a three-way. As much as I'm sure we'd all enjoy it, me especially, I wanted to talk to Ryan about it first, and hadn't gotten around to it yet. "You can't keep that beautiful man all to yourself," he'd say. "Soon," I'd answer him.

I threw on my social clothes, a comfortable pair of jeans and a well fit red button-up that accented my white fur and few black spots nicely. Ryan would no doubt be wearing his standard black polo and jeans. I loved that black polo on him. It was tight in just the right places, highlighting his various gorgeous muscles while making it look unintentional.

I sprayed on a little smell-good and joined Ryan in the kitchen. He was wearing exactly what I thought he would.

"Mornin' buddy," he teased me, "how you feeling? You've been sleeping a lot lately."

"I'm good," I answered, "between the homework and the ridiculous workout you have me doing I feel like I'm burning the candle at both ends. I don't know how you do it."

"Meh, you'll get used to it. If not you can always take extra rest days. No shame in that, you have to get enough sleep or the workouts won't do you any good," he said, making me think some extra rest days might be exactly what I needed.

"That might be a good idea, maybe go back to my yoga and treadmill for a bit," I said.

"Whatever works for you man, its not like you weren't in fantastic shape before you started lifting with me anyway," he said with a smile. It made me feel good when he said things like that, never judgmental and never criticizing the way I did things.

"So whats the plan?" I asked him.

"Well kickoff is in about ten minutes, so we can either walk there and miss the first couple minutes, or we can take the dragon and I can walk back and get it tomorrow when we're not drunk," he said, "what do you think?"

The dragon is what he called his car. I thought it silly until I actually rode in it. It was a late model GTO with some minor exhaust work, a powerful six-speed that sounded like a dragons roar when he hit the gas. Aptly named indeed.

"Lets take the dragon, roll up with style," I said. I really did like that car.

"Ok then lets hit it," he said, holding the door open for me before exiting himself. He always did that. I don't think I've ever seen him not hold the door for someone. Just another one of his charms, I guess.

"Yea I think taking the car was a good idea," he said as we crossed the parking lot, "we'd be sweating up a storm by the time we got there if we walked." I nodded in agreement, the midwest in the summer could be a miserable place.

Reynold's Bar and Grill was a short walk and an even shorter drive from our apartment, and always drew a good crowd on game day. It being the conference opener must have brought in a few extra customers, because it was tough to find a spot to park. I always had more fun at Reynold's when it was crowded, and I could feel my earlier sleepiness losing out to my excitement.

That excitement was quickly replaced by annoyance when we walked in and I saw a guy I knew from school. He was a skinny white human who wore super-baggy clothes and always thought it necessary to wear sunglasses, indoors or out. He wasted no time in making his presence known.

"Whaddap, little gay pongo?" he jeered. I fucking despised this man and was about to say something stupid back to him when Ryan stepped in.

"Hey Dirk, quit being a little shit and tell me whether or not Robinson is starting today," he said, just the perfect amount of condescension in his voice. Dirk let it go immediately, despite all his friends getting a nice laugh at his expense, and starting talking to him about which players were hurt, which ones where in top form, starting, and so on. Ryan tossed me a wink as Dirk went through the entire roster, probably afraid that leaving anything out would earn him a deserved beating.

How masterful. Protecting a friend, insulting an idiot, and causing a laugh, all while at the same time completely diffusing the situation. I shook my head while laughing inwardly. Only Ryan.

---

After Dirk spit out the status of the entire team, which of course I already knew, Greg and I found a table with a good view of the big screen and ordered a pitcher of beer. One thing I refused to tolerate was people messing with my friends. Luckily I strike just enough of a physically imposing image that people rarely argue with me, at least when they're still sober. We talked a little while about how much of a dick Dirk was and made fun of the way he was dressed while we waited for the game to start.

Our team won the toss and elected to kick first. It didn't take long for everyone to realize that this game was going to be a tough one, with our rivals taking a lead early. By the end of the first quarter we were down two touchdowns and a field goal. It wasn't looking too good for us, and as the game appeared to be going worse and worse, the pace at which Greg and I were drinking started to increase in turn.

I was rocking a solid buzz by halftime, as were most of the other bar patrons, and didn't even notice the scantily clad female raccoon staring me down as I walked to the bathroom.

---

"Have you chosen, my dear?" Phillip asked as he returned to the table.

"I believe I have someone in mind," she said coyly.

"The big one with glasses and no hair?" he inquired, and she nodded.

"I have an eye for his friend I think, that should make things easier," he said, drawing her attention to the small dalmatian sipping his beer a few tables over.

"Do you think they are together?" she asked, becoming less confident about their marks.

"I know not, my dear," he said, "but we shall find out soon enough. If you can convince the large one, the small one will follow his lead."

"I hope so," she said, adjusting her ample bosom, preparing for her quarry to walk back to his table.

---

Thats one thing that annoys me about beer. It only takes a little and then you have to pee every ten minutes. At least the bar was between our table and the restroom, allowing me to get another pitcher before I rejoined Greg.

I tipped the bartender and headed back to the table. I made it a few steps before something bumped into me and spilled my pitcher of beer down the front of my shirt and pants. Well shit.

"Oh my god! I am so sorry! I wasn't watching where I was going," said a distinctly feminine voice behind me. I turned to the owner of the voice, a little perturbed at having wasted half a pitcher of beer because someone else was clumsy. any thoughts I had about giving her a piece of my mind immediately winked out of existence.

Before me stood a ravishing female raccoon. She was wearing a black dress dress that barely came halfway down her thigh and hugged every curve of her body. It was low cut. Very low cut. She looked to be only a couple inches shorter than me, but then I noticed she was wearing heels that were probably close to four inches, putting her actual height closer to 5'3".

"Hello? Did you hear what i said?" she asked me. I didn't even realize she'd said anything. Stupid beer.

"No, I'm sorry. Can you repeat it for me?" I asked, a little embarrassed. She just smiled at me.

"I said, Stay right here, I'm going to grab some paper towels to get you cleaned up," she said, and disappeared into the crowd. I just stood there feeling, and probably looking, very stupid.

---

Where was Ryan with the damn beer? I suppose halftime is when the bar gets the most busy. I was thinking about going to find him when I felt a hand on my shoulder. I looked up and was pleasantly surprised, not by Ryan with more beer, but by a mature looking male coon.

"Excuse me, my young friend, do you mind if I join you?" he asked politely.

"Why of course, have a seat kind sir," I answered, making him smile. He sat down across from me.

"You have excellent manners, young man," he said, "the world needs more like you." I blushed a bit at that. I'd always kind of had a thing for older men, and this gentlemanly coon fit the bill. He was wearing a button up shirt similar to mine, but white with the sleeves rolled up. It was tucked into a pair of pressed slacks that where obviously tailored. He looked to be maybe into his forties, and in good shape. There were bits of grey forming in his fur, which I found particularly attractive.

"Thank you, my parents taught me to always be polite," I said, not sure what else to say.

"And good on them for it," he said with a chuckle. Then he turned and looked at me more directly, and spoke in a hushed voice.

"You want to see something amusing?" he asked, with an excited look in his eyes.

"Um.. Sure," I answered, wondering what he was getting at.

"You see your friend over there?" he said, pointing over towards the bar. I looked to where he pointing and sure enough, there was Ryan. I began to get a little unnerved. How did this stranger know we were friends? Had he been watching us? This coon started to look a little more creepy than attractive.

"Hahaha, don't worry little pup, just watch," he said. He must have sensed, or expected, my uneasiness. I continued to watch Ryan as he paid for the pitcher and started walking towards our table. He got a few steps before he was blindsided by a female coon, spilling beer all down the front of him. In my somewhat inebriated state, I couldn't help but burst out laughing. It looked like she was apologizing, but he didn't seem to hear her. He definitely saw her though, and was looking her up and down. Real subtle Ryan. Not that I could blame him, she was dressed very... eye-catchingly. She said something else and then took off in the direction of the restroom, I'm assuming for some towels. The male coon chuckling beside me brought me back to the situation at the table. How had he known that was going to happen?

"I suppose you're wondering how I knew that was going to happen, young pup," he said. I eyed him somewhat suspiciously and just nodded.

"You see, that beautiful female coon is my wife, and she plans to seduce your big friend there," he said nonchalantly. I just sat there with my mouth open for a second.

"What?" I asked, wondering if I was more drunk than I thought and just misheard him.

"My wife would like be intimate with your friend," he said, "will this upset you? Are you together?"

"What? No, no, we are not together," I told him, "And wait, if thats your wife shouldn't YOU be upset? And why are you telling me all this?" He chuckled again, putting me a little more at ease in an odd way.

"No, young pup, I am not upset. You see, my wife has certain appetites that I cannot wholly satisfy, and I would wish her to be happy," he said, making me feel kind of bad for asking, "I would only be upset were she mistreated or left unsatisfied." Not likely.

"Well why not just ask him? I'm sure it would be less troublesome," I asked, "and you still haven't told me why you're letting me in on it." He just smiled a knowing smile in the direction of his wife, who had reappeared from the restroom and was enthusiastically dabbing the front of Ryan's shirt and pants with paper towels.

"Martha finds pleasure in the chase," he said, still smiling at his wife, "she would never simply ask. It would take most of the fun out of it for her." He turned and directed his gaze back to me, a more serious look on his face.

"I, on the other hand, prefer to be much more simple and direct with my approaches," he said. I waited for him to say something else, but he just kept looking at me, an expectant look in his eyes.

"Wait.. You don't mean..." I said, not sure how to proceed. He smiled and filled in my dotted line.

"I too, young pup, have appetites that my wife cannot fully satisfy," he said, his smile returning.

"Oh.." I said, blushing slightly, "wait, how did you know I-"

"I have an eye for these things young.. I'm sorry my boy, what is you're name?" he asked, looking slightly embarrassed, "or shall I continue calling you young pup?" As much as I kind of enjoyed it...

"Greg," I said, extending my hand. He took my hand, the grip of his handshake firm.

"A pleasure, my name is Phillip," he said, releasing my hand, "As I was saying, I have an eye for these things Greg, and you are a very attractive young pup." He tossed me a wink, making me smile, and blush. Again. What was it with attractive men winking at me? At least this time I knew exactly what it meant.

He looked on quietly as I considered what I'd heard. As odd as the situation was, it was nice to be the one pursued for a change, rather than the pursuer. And its not like it would be the first time I hooked up with a stranger. Then there was my thing for older guys. I had almost decided to go for it when I remembered Ryan.

I looked back over and he had the female coon's arms around his neck and a silly grin on his face. I'm sure he'll be totally fine with it.

"You know something Phil? Can I call you Phil?" I asked, flipping on my playful switch. He nodded and smiled.

"It just so happens that I've always had a thing for older men," I told him, causing his eyes to light up a bit.

"Thats fantastic my boy, so you'll consider my proposal?" he asked.

"I'll do more than consider it, your wife just needs to convince my friend," I said, taking a moment to look back at Ryan, who looked to be thoroughly enjoying the attention he was getting.

"And that doesn't look like it will be a problem," I said, laughing.

"My wife can be very persuasive," he said, letting out a chuckle of his own.

"Now if she can get him on board before the game is over, then I'll really be impressed," I said, attempting to take a sip of my beer, which was still empty.

---

Despite having beer spilled all down the front of me, I'd have to say my night was heading in a good direction. The female raccoon, who had since introduced herself as Martha, had pretty much groped my entire body when trying to "dry me off" with paper towels. I may be a little bit drunk, but I'm not an idiot. She clearly had interests in me other than just helping a stranger she bumped into. Part of me was starting to think she had done it on purpose in order to have an excuse to talk to me. What ever happened to "Hi my name is Martha, whats yours?" No need to jump to conclusions I guess. Maybe she was tipsy too and decided to feel me up after she accidentally spilled my beer, who knows. Or who cares?

"So who are you routing for, handsome?" she asked, with her arms draped around my neck like we were at a junior high dance.

"The home team of course," I said, "if I wasn't I'd be watching from home where its safe." She giggled like little schoolgirl.

"Oh come on, you look like you can take care of yourself," she said, continuing to stroke my ego. Didn't bother me any. In fact, maybe I'll play along.

"Absolutely. I just wouldn't want to hurt somebody else," I said, with an overly sarcastic air of confidence. She giggled again

"Aww, a gentle giant are we?" she said

"I try," I answered. She leaned in close then, her mouth right next to my ear.

"What if I don't like it gentle?" she whispered, the feeling of her breath in my ear giving me goosebumps, among other things. She definitely got straight to the point didn't she?

"In your case I suppose I could make an exception," I said, "especially since you spilled my beer." She let out another laugh, this one sounding a little more genuine.

"Good," she said, "because I can't wait to get you out of these wet clothes."

"Well I can't exactly get naked in the middle of the bar," I said.

"Haha, of course not, silly. You can come back to my house with me. Then we can enjoy ourselves, and each other," she said. There it was, the invitation back to her place. Either I was going to have a great night, or I was going to end up in a tub of ice, missing a kidney. Seemed worth the risk to me. I couldn't help but feel a little bad though, even considering going home with some woman I'd just met. Another look at her little black dress whisked those thoughts away pretty quickly. What man in his right mind would say no?

I checked the big screen, where the scoreboard showed no improvements to my teams predicament. No sense in delaying the fun, I suppose.

"That sounds absolutely stellar," I said, "I just need to talk to my friend."

"Okay handsome, I will rejoin you shortly," she said, and left in the direction of the restroom.

I turned to go talk to Greg and almost ran right into him.

"Watch it man, I wouldn't want you to spill the rest of that," he said, taking the pitcher from me and refilling his beer.

"Sorry dude, I got a little sidetracked," I said, feeling bad for leaving him back at the table with no beer.

"Haha, I can see that," he said, downing the top half of his beer.

"She is laying it on thick bro, wants me to come back to her place," I told him.

"I know," he said, with a little smirk on his face, "I was just talking to her husband."

"What?! Her husband?! Well shit," I said, thoroughly disappointed. There goes my night. It figures that the smoking hot raccoon babe was married. I don't mess with married women.

"Fuck man, well I should probably go apologize or something. Tell him I didn't know," I said.

"That won't be necessary, young man," said a male voice to my right. The look on my face must've been hilarious, because Greg burst out laughing and almost choked on his beer. I turned to face him and found he was a well dressed male raccoon with a little grey in his fur.

"I'm so sorry, sir. I had no idea. I'm so embarrassed right now," I stammered. He held up his hand to quiet me.

"Relax, my boy, relax. I am fully aware of your arrangement with my wife," he said with a smile, "in fact, I have made a similar arrangement with Greg here, and I would very much like for you both to accompany my wife and me back to our manor." I just kind of sat there, dumbfounded. I looked to Greg, who just raised his eyebrows at me over his upended beer glass.

"I'm so confused.." I said with a sigh. Greg finished his beer and patted me on the back.

"Ryan, Phillip and Martha here like to go out occasionally and get some strange, and tonight they picked us. That clear enough for ya?" he said, laughing.

"I guess. It's still kind of weird though," I said, scratching my head. I fucking knew she spilled my beer on purpose.

"We've done weirder shit than this, bro," he said. Fact.

"Don't worry about it, my boy. Just make sure you show my Martha a good time. From what Greg says it doesn't sound like that should be a problem for you," said Phillip, chuckling as he clapped me on the back. I was still a little too

overwhelmed to laugh.

"So dude, you down?" Greg asked. I thought about it for a second, but not too hard.

"I'm down if you're down, man," I answered. Unsure of what the night may yet have in store.

"Well I am most certainly down," he said, eyeballing Phillip up and down.

"Excellent!" said Phillip excitedly as Martha returned from the ladies room, "my dear, they have agreed join us for the evening!"

"Of course they did darling," she said, leaning in and kissing him on the cheek, "I'll tell Jack to pull the car around." She walked towards the front entrance, giving my butt a firm squeeze as she walked by. I gave a questioning look to Phillip, who didn't even seem to notice. What a weird couple.

"Pull the car around?" I asked, "you guys have a driver or something?"

"The stresses of driving make me weary, so I pay someone to do it for me," he answered, as if it were completely normal. Makes me wonder what their house looks like.

"Shall we?" he said, holding an arm out towards the door. I looked to Greg, who just shrugged and started towards the door, followed closely by Phillip. I shook my head, which was still slightly spinning from the rush of information, and probably also the beer. I should have hydrated better today.

---

When I got outside I was surprised to find not just any normal car waiting for us, but a full up limousine. What the heck did Phil do for a living? The rear window rolled down and Martha appeared, already sporting a glass of wine.

"Come and join the party!" she said, with a huge grin on her face. The driver opened the door for us, and Phil motioned for me to get in first. I stepped into the limo and sat on the bench seat to the right, which had me facing Martha and the rear of the car. Phil took the seat beside me and Ryan, after introducing himself and shaking hands with the driver, of course sat next to Martha. She had shed her heels and wasted no time, draping her legs across Ryan's lap. Always the pleaser, and I think maybe a mind-reader, he began massaging her feet. She giggled in delight and began pouring three more glasses of wine from the minibar. Holy shit they had a minibar. I looked at Phil, who was smiling at his wife and Ryan and nodding his approval. Seeing her happy really was all he wanted after all. It was romantic, in a fucked up voyeur-ish kind of way, but romantic nonetheless.

Getting to see Ryan's game from an outside perspective was kind of cool too. Realizing that her feet would probably be sore from the heels and giving her a foot-rub without even being prompted, fucking genius. I didn't want to get one-upped, but keeping on par with Ryan's standard of pleasing is going to be tough, I knew that from experience. If I was even going to stand a chance, I needed to figure out what got Phil's blood flowing. I'd have to start small and work my way up.

I took the two glasses of wine from Martha and handed one to Phil. I swirled the wine in my glass to aerate it a bit before taking a sip, holding it in my mouth for a few moments to get the full flavor before swallowing. It was definitely one of the best reds I'd ever tasted, and one of the strongest. I looked up to find Phil smiling at me.

"It's good to see someone your age who knows how to appreciate good wine," he said.

"The wine I usually drink tends to come in boxes," I said, "But I still try to drink it the right way. This wine is delicious, where is it from?"

"It comes from a small vineyard in Sicily, on the side of Mt. Etna. They tell me if you pay close enough attention you can taste the volcano in the wine," he explained.

"Oh my, this must be a fairly pricey bottle," I said, wondering how much money I had just drank. Phil just chuckled at me.

"No, my boy, its not pricey at all. Just very good. The best things are not always the most expensive," he said with a smile.

"And sometimes they're free," I added, taking his free hand in mine and placing it on the inside of my knee. He smiled even wider and took large sip of wine, and I suddenly remembered something he had said earlier. He preferred to be more simple and direct, so why not just ask him what his turn-ons were? I turned my body to face him a little more directly and leaned closer, so our conversation could be a little more private. Not that Ryan or Martha would have even heard. They were off in their own little world, with Ryan whispering sweet nothings in her ear and Martha giggling like a schoolgirl.

"So tell me Phil, what kinds of things give you the most pleasure?" I asked him.

"I've already told you, Greg,"he said, nodding his head towards Martha, "nothing brings me greater joy in this world than seeing that woman happy." He had a dreamy smile on his face as he watched her. Well that didn't really answer my intended question, but it did give me an incredibly devious idea. This might not be so hard after all.

"Well then I have plan to make this night unforgettable," I told him with a mischievous smile, taking another sip of the delicious wine.

"Really? Do tell," he said, a strong air of curiosity in his tone. I just giggled at him.

"You're going to have to wait, its a surprise," I said, running my finger down his chest for emphasis.

"Oh dear," he said, and I could feel his pulse quicken through his shirt. Now we were getting somewhere.

"So how many times have you and Martha gone out to find.. playmates?" I asked, wondering what kinds of past experiences we'd have to outdo.

"This is only the third such occasion," he said, "the first time, I was unable to find a companion for myself, but I believe Martha enjoyed herself. The second time we both found partners, but Martha's was not a very giving fellow." This might be easier than I thought, and if my plan worked the way I think it would, then Ryan and I were going to knock it out of the park.

"You shall have no such problems tonight, my friend," I reassured him, "in fact, if Martha doesn't walk bowlegged tomorrow I'll be surprised."

"You always speak so highly of your friend," he said, "do you have feelings for him?" The question caught me a little off guard. I guess since he always acts so straight, the occasional physical interactions aside, I've never really thought about it.

"He's my best friend, so I would say yes, I do have feelings for him," I said, "he's like a protective older brother who also happens to be great in bed." I laughed a bit at how absurd that sounded.

"He seems like a good man," Phil said.

"He's the best person I know," I said, and he really was. A perfect catch, really. Hopefully if he ever got married his wife wouldn't mind me 'borrowing' him once in a while.

"It is good to have such friends," he said, "it makes life much more fulfilling." I smirked at the accidental pun.

"Haha, I definitely save on rent," I said, laughing. Phil joined in but was interrupted by a soft beeping sound. He hit a small button on the armrest and the window separating us from the driver began to descend.

"We are nearing the manor, sir," he said, and the barrier rolled back up.

"Home sweet home," Phil said, grinning at me. The windows were so heavily tinted that I couldn't really see anything yet, but I was excited to see where someone who could afford their own chauffeur would live. The car pulled to a stop and I heard the driver get out. Shortly after the door opened and Ryan hopped out.

"Thanks Jack," I heard him say, before holding a hand out to Martha to help her from the vehicle. Phil motioned for me to get out next, so I jumped out of my seat and out the door, eager to finally see the house. Holy shit.

It looked like a smaller version of the whitehouse. The front entryway had a semicircular.. porch, I guess is what it was, lined with massive pillars stretching up four stories to the roof. They looked to be made out of marble. Actually the entire exterior of the house looked like it was marble. The front of the house was bordered with perfectly trimmed hedges, and the yard was scattered with large oak trees, giving the mansion an open, yet private, look. This place had to be worth several million dollars.

Martha began to walk to the front door, but before she got even two steps Ryan scooped her up in his arms, as if she were no heavier than a feather pillow. He carried her to the front door, which seemed to magically open of its own accord. As Phil and I followed them inside, I saw that the door had been opened by a servant, clad in a tuxedo. They had a freaking butler.

The inside of the house was no less extravagant than the outside. The first thing I saw as I walked in the door was a huge marble staircase to the left that led to the second floor, and then continued to spiral up the the third, then fourth floor. I looked at Phil, who was watching Ryan gently set Martha down.

"Phil, what exactly do you do? How did you afford a house like this?" I asked, making no attempt to hid the astonishment in my voice.

"I'm an entrepreneur of sorts," he said, "as for the house, hard work and a few great investments."

"Remind be to talk to you if I ever need business advice," I said, making him chuckle.

"What is your area of study?" he asked as he led us past the stairs and through a large archway. The other side opened up into a large room scattered with comfortable looking furniture centered around a large blank wall. I guess what a middle-class person would call a living room. There was also a full bar, stools and all. The servant who had opened the door removed is tux jacket, rolled up his sleeves, and started preparing drinks. Phil picked up a small remote and hit a few buttons, causing something to pop out of the middle of the ceiling. Suddenly the large blank wall had an image projected on it, and the room filled with sound. The football game!!!

"Holy shit we came back!!!" Ryan yelled excitedly. It was the middle of the fourth quarter and the scoreboard showed us 15 points ahead, and we had the ball. I was still admiring the projection itself, which had to be at least 15 feet across, and probably ten feet high. Amazing.

"Greg?" Phil asked. Oh! I had totally got distracted from our conversation.

"Sorry Phil, theres just so much to take in. I'm studying journalism right now, but I have't narrowed it down to a particular area yet," I said, "I really enjoy writing for my school news page though, so I'm kind of leaning towards that at the moment. I've also thought about trying to get into sportscasting."

"Remind me later, but I know a few editors who are looking for new talent. I may be able to put in a recommendation," he said. That would be fantastic! A recommendation from someone like Phil would have to carry some weight, it would mean a huge head start for my career.

"Thank you so much Phil!" I thanked him, "That would be awesome." Ryan and Martha settled in on one of the couches near the screen and Phil and I took seats at the bar. The servant-turned-bartender handed me a cocktail. I had no idea what it was, but it was delicious, with a slightly lemony taste. When Ryan got his drink I think he almost cried.

"Oh my god! An Old Fashioned!" he said, taking a sip, "and its amazing!" He took another sip. I could tell he was pacing, because normally a good Old Fashioned doesn't last more than a few seconds in Ryan's hands.

"I told you he could make anything," Martha said, giggling.

"You sir," he said, pointing to the bartender, "are the man." The servant bowed his thanks and returned to the bar. Phil was still chuckling at Ryan's reaction to his drink.

"Haha, so what about your friend, Greg," he said, "what are his plans for the future?"

"He's finishing up his business degree right now," I said, "He wants to open up his own fitness center."

"Ah.. business ownership is a rather tough venture," he said.

"Yea. The fitness parts he already knows. Its the business and management aspects that he's trying to learn now," I said, "He's pretty smart though, I have no doubts that he'll succeed." Just then we must have scored another touchdown, because both Ryan AND Martha jumped up excitedly, cheering and hugging.

"You know, Martha was a cheerleader for the university when she was back in school," Phil said, "its good for her to have someone to cheer with. I'm more of a golf kind of man."

"Haha, we'll have to go hit the links sometime. Ryan refuses to play, says he's too awful at it to have fun, so I rarely go," I said, "I'll have you know though, I'm pretty good."

"I would like that. I usually go by myself, so it would be nice to have some competition," he said, smiling. The last few seconds of the game were ticking down, and it looked like Ryan and Martha were soon going to depart to a more private place.

"One moment Phil," I said, and got up from my barstool. I walked over to Ryan and tapped him on the shoulder.

"Whats up bro?" He asked. I leaned down and whispered to him what I had planned, and what I needed him to do. He laughed and nodded his head excitedly.

"You devious little bastard, haha, consider it done," he said, and got up from the couch, holding out a hand to Martha.

"Lets go somewhere more private, yea?" he said. Martha giggled and hopped up from the couch.

"Yes, lets do!" She answered enthusiastically.

"Have a good time, my dear," Phill called out from the bar, his glass raised and a grin on his face.

"I will, my love!" she called back, blowing him a kiss as they walked back out through the archway. I returned to my seat and and finished the last few drops of my cocktail.

"May I have another one of these?" I asked the bartender, "they are excellent."

"Of course, sir," he said stoically, and began making my drink. I moved my barstool so it was directly behind Phil's. He peeked over his shoulder curiously, until I sat down and began to massage his back, then his head lolled forward as my hands worked their magic. I made sure to use all my fingers individually, several small points of contact worked out the knots much better than just using your whole hand as if you were kneading bread. I worked his back from his waistline all the way up to his neck, just behind his ears. That was the sweet spot, just behind the ears, and I made sure to gently scratch as I massaged. I stopped as the bartender finished my drink, and moved my chair back to its original position. Phil looked up a me as I took a sip and smiled.

"It's been years since I got a back rub that good, young pup," he said with a chuckle, "and it didn't come cheap." I laughed with him.

"Maybe I should charge you then.." I joked, and we laughed some more.

"You just wait, you won't even remember the massage after I'm through with you," I promised, again seeing a flicker of excitement in his eyes. I placed my hand on the inside of his knee.

"I'm just.. getting.. started," I said, punctuating my words by slowly sliding my hand down the inside of his thigh, finishing with my hand gently gripping the growing bulge in his slacks. He inhaled sharply at my touch, and I could see the hunger on his face. It was time.

---

Martha led me up the stairs to the second floor and down a hallway to the left, stopping at the third or fourth door down.

"This is one of our spare rooms, no one will bother us here," she said with a seductive smile, and went inside. Before going in, I removed my shirt and placed it on the floor, protruding slightly into the hallway so it could be seen from the stairwell. There you go, Greg. Hopefully this works.

I followed her inside the room, which was quite large for a spare room, easily having the square footage of my entire apartment. Against the far wall there was a giant round bed covered in an excessive amount of pillows. Filling the rest of the room was various furniture, the most notable of which was a large, comfortable looking sofa, facing the bed. Perfect.

She set her drink down on a small coffee table and turned around, her face going a little blank when she noticed I was already shirtless. I walked over to her, cradled her head in my hands, in pulled her into a kiss. There was no resistance, in fact, she tried to go faster, her hungry passion overpowering her. I maintained my pace though, using my gentle grip on her head to slow her down, showing her that I was in control. Through our idle chit chat earlier I had pretty much gleaned all of her biggest turn-ons, and it was paying off. She moaned in frustration at not being able to kiss faster, but also in pleasure because she liked a dominant male.

I slowly side stepped, maintaining the kiss, until my back was to the bed. I moved my hands to her waist and fell backwards onto the bed, pulling her with me. She immediately sat up and began to grind against me. I put my arms on either side and locked my hands behind her back, using the leverage to push down on her hips. She moaned loudly in pleasure and surprise, the friction of her grinding having been doubled. She started going faster, and for a moment I let her, then I leg go and stopped pressing down. She let out a small whine, and then a yelp as I gripped her ass firmly, her fluffy tail tickling my forearms, and stood up. I gently set her feet down on the floor and gently pulled her head to the side, planting little kisses and soft bites up and down her neck. While I did this I used my other hand to zip down the back of her dress. She felt me do this, and stepped away. She pulled her arms out of the top of the dress and began wiggle out of it, pushing it down past her tail and to her ankles.

There always been something about the shimmying motion that girls used to get out of tight clothing that I always found erotic, I'm not sure why. After she was down to her bra and panties, she stepped forward and tried to push me down onto the bed. Nice try Martha. I planted my feet and didn't budge an inch. She looked up at me in confusion, and I responded by reaching behind her and pressing the hooks on her bra together with my thumb and middle finger. POP! Her strapless bra was on the floor, exposing her beautiful breasts to my gaze. I can't believe I got it on the first try, and it boosted my confidence a bit. Phil had obviously bought her implants, because her boobs didn't drop at all minus the support of her bra. Not that I minded. The way I look at it, if you can see them and touch them, they're real. Augmented or not.

She didn't seem phased at all by my removal of her bra. She just looked even more excited. I picked her back up and turned around, setting her gently back down on the bed. I laid over her and began again to kiss and nibble the side of her neck. I placed my left hand on her knee and slowly moved it upwards, sliding my hand along her thigh then up her flat stomach. She pushed against my touch, wanting more. I cupped her breast firmly, causing her to moan loudly. I worked my thumb in small circles around her nipple, and began to work my kisses lower. I got to the middle of her chest and quickly moved left, taking her nipple into my mouth. I gently sucked on it and flicked my tongue across it quickly, making her squirm in pleasure. I sat back up slightly, and blew cold air across her wet nipple. She squeezed the portion of my back she was holding onto, probably leaving claw marks. I didn't mind though, wouldn't have been the first time I ended up with scratches across my back, just meant I was doing well.

I repeated the process with her other nipple, again earning some probable claw marks, then continued even lower. I worked down her stomach and past her belly button, her soft fur tickling my nose. When I reached the top of her panties, I stopped. I waited for her to look at me, and when she finally did, I gripped the left side of her panties with both hands, where they were the thinnest. She looked at me questioningly, and I gave her an evil grin. Then I tore the thin strip of material.

"What..." she started to say, and I interrupted her by tearing the other side, and pulling her panties away, throwing them over my shoulder.

"Oh..." she said in a breathy voice. It was kind of risky, because some women freak out over ruined underwear, but she had said she didn't want it gentle. Nothing says 'not gentle' like literally tearing a woman's panties off, and she loved it.

I took a moment to look at my prize, the small pink folds surrounded by trim brown fur. My earlier efforts had done their job, her sex glistening with arousal. I reached underneath her legs, putting them over my shoulders. Her breathing hastened in anticipation. I moved my mouth so it was only a couple inches away. She could feel my breath, and her leg began to quiver ever so slightly. I lowered my mouth, not onto her sex, but instead just to the right, in the small space between her folds and her leg, and gave a slow, strong lick. She let out a small whine at the teasing, my mouth being so close, but not where she wanted it. I started kissing and nibbling up the inside of her thigh, getting almost to her knee, before working back down. When I reached the place I had licked before, I did it again, and then paused, my mouth directly over her. I let out a hot breath onto her, and moved left, just barely letting my lips brush hers, and licked up the left side. She whimpered in protest at the continued teasing as I kissed up her leg, as I had done the opposite one.

I loved doing this. It was kind of cruel, yes, but if you did it perfectly, you could build them up, like shaking up a soda. Nine times out of ten I could get them to orgasm from the very first actual lick.

I kissed back down her leg and repeated the near-pass of her sex, and licked up the side, as before. Then I faintly heard the door opening.

I looked underneath my arm and saw Greg, who was sporting a devilish grin, and Phillip, who was staring at us, jaw dropped, like a child the first time he sees lightning. Way to go, Greg! He couldn't have possibly timed this better. I started kissing up her leg again, but after only two, I moved my head abruptly a licked straight up the middle of her sex. Only once, slowly from the bottom to the very top, as hard as I could press with my tongue, I licked her. And as I'd worked for, she cried out loudly in surprise and pleasure, and hit her first orgasm.

"OH!.. GOD!!.." she exclaimed, her back arched and her legs shaking uncontrollably over my shoulders. As my lick reached her clit, I stopped and closed my mouth around it, sucking it gently and flicking my tongue across it. I felt a small rush of juices go down my chin, but continued what I was doing until I sensed her orgasm had ended. I lasted a little over a full minute, which wasn't surprising, given the amount of teasing I had administered. When the last seconds of it past, I sat up and grinned down at her. She sat up, looking like she intended to pull me down atop her, and noticed Phil and Greg standing in the corner of the room.

"Phil?!" she said, a shocked expression on her face.

"I'm sorry, dear, I didn't.. He led me here," he stammered, motioning towards Greg, "Ryan's shirt was out in the hallway." Martha looked at Greg, and then at me, and then to Greg again.

"You planned this, didn't you?" she asked, still digesting the fact that Phil had witnessed her monumental orgasm.

"It was my idea," Greg said, "Phil told me that nothing gave him more pleasure than seeing you happy, so I figured sharing the same room would make things much more enjoyable." Phil definitely seemed to enjoy it, whether he realized it or not. The bulging erection in his tailored pants was hard to miss. We didn't really give them time to think about it. I lowered my head back down and resumed my previous oral stimulation, minus the teasing this time. Martha started to protest, but the pleasure of my tongue soon changed that to moans of pleasure.

Greg led Phil over to the sofa that was facing the bed. His eyes were still fixed on Martha, his expression a mixture of confusion and fascination.

"Just trust me, Phil," Greg told him, "you won't regret it." He sat Phil on the couch and removed his slacks, then his briefs.

I continued as if they weren't there, concentrating on utilizing my bag of oral tricks.

---

Phil seemed to be in a confused, lustful daze as I removed his clothing. Hopefully once he got past the initial surprise of what was happening, he would begin to enjoy himself. He was definitely aroused, at least. As I pulled off his briefs, his fully erect member exposed to the cool air, he seemed to finally notice what I was doing. He looked down at me, cracked a sheepish smile, and looked back at Ryan and Martha.

"She really does seem to be enjoying herself," he said, and I turned to look as well. Ryan was in full pleaser mode, already with scratches across his back, and his pants weren't even off yet. Martha was off in her own universe, being racked by her second orgasm.

"I'd say thats a gross understatement," I said, making him grin even wider.

"So this was the 'surprise' you had," he said, narrowing his eyes at me slightly, "I must say at first I was appalled at the idea of disturbing them for my sake, but now that I see that they don't mind, I very much like the idea of watching. You're a scheming young lad, but you're smart about it." He smiled at me, which is good, because I wasn't sure if he was complimenting me or scolding me.

"I knew you'd enjoy it," I said, " and this too." I licked his member slowly from his furry orbs all the way to his tip, which I then took into my mouth. He let out a low groan, almost a growl, as I began to descend from his tip down to his base. His cock was about as long as Ryan's, but not as thick, giving a little more room to work with. I rested my nose against his base for a moment, taking time to take in his scent and swirl my tongue around a bit. His smell was musky but with a sweetness to it that kind of reminded me of a cologne my dad used to wear. The fact that Phil was a old enough to be my father, and I was sucking him off, struck me as slightly odd, but incredibly arousing. I wasn't into the whole 'daddy' thing, but being with an older man certainly turned me on.

I pulled off to his tip, and descended to the base once more, falling into a steady rhythm. Phil groaned in pleasure and moved his hands around, not knowing what to do with them, but not able to keep them still. He finally settled for gripping the edges of the sofa cushion. He continued to watch his wife, and it seemed that every time she moaned in pleasure or cried out, his cock would twitch slightly in my mouth. My plan was working perfectly. I continued to bob up and down, thoroughly enjoying this ridiculous situation. My own jeans were starting to get very uncomfortable, and I could feel a wetness in my boxers that indicated that I'd already began leaking a bit of pre.

I heard Martha breathing heavily, seeming to catch her breath, and then the metallic clink of Ryan's belt hit the ground behind me. Phil's eyes widened with anticipation. Now the real fun begins.

I listened as the bed creaked slightly, and Martha let out a long, throaty moan. The sight and sound of his wife being entered threw Phil over the edge. I could feel his rapidly pulsing heartbeat with my mouth as he came. He gripped the cushion so hard his knuckles turned white, and some of his toes popped as he curled them tightly, but he never once took his eyes from the bed. The volume of seed he shot down my throat was alarming. He must not pleasure himself very often. I buried my snout into his crotch and swallowed every drop, swirling my tongue to corral the excess that collected around his base.

He stopped after a few seconds, uncurled his toes and relaxed his grip on the sofa. I stood up and used the opportunity to remove my own clothes and enjoy the show a little myself. Ryan had Martha's legs over his shoulders and was unceremoniously pounding her into a stupor. Her short, forceful moans were keeping time with his downward thrusts, along with the fur-muffled slapping sound. It almost looked like it should hurt, but then I remember that I had been the recipient of a similar pounding, and it was anything but painful. Unless you count the ache created by walking crooked for a few days.

I finished undressing and turned to see Phil's lustful gaze now directed at me, and his cock still fully erect. For a man his age to stay hard after such an intense orgasm was impressive, to say the least.

"Ready for more, I see," I said to him, smiling.

"I haven't felt like this since I was a teenager," he said, looking down to regard his member, "its really quite astonishing." I responded by straddling his legs, his cock coming to rest between my cheeks. I moved my hips, grinding against it and making him groan. I reached back and lined him up, his cock dripping with more than enough pre to ease his entry. I slowly lowered by ass onto his tip, working my hips in small circles help work him in. I felt his tip pop inside, and let out small moan. I slowly lowered myself until his balls were pressed against the base of my tail, my own aching erection pressed against his tone stomach. I began to rock my hips, working his cock in and out, mindful not to block his view of the bed. I looked over my shoulder and saw Martha in the throes of another orgasm. As this one died down Ryan sat up and rolled her over. She complied enthusiastically and hopped up onto all fours. Ryan slid back into her and then reached forward, pulling her hands out from under her. Martha's upper half fell onto the bed, and Ryan gripped her wrists on both sides. Then he did something I'd never seen before. He leaned back slightly and pulled Martha with him, her upper half rising off the bed. It looked like some crazy figure skating position, with her torso parallel to the bed, but not touching it. She gripped his wrists in turn, and he began to thrust into her. With all her weight being pulled back against him, he was able to thrust much harder and deeper than a standard doggy position. I could understand why I hadn't seen it before though. It would take someone with Ryan's strength and endurance to maintain such a position for more than a few moments.

He increased the pace of his thrusts, the force and deep penetration of which had Martha practically drooling on the bed. That new position is definitely something I was going to make him show me the next time we fooled around. I still don't understand where he learns this shit.

Phil seemed equally mesmerized, and had started thrusting against my rocking hips. I started going faster, and he matched my pace. All the extra visual stimulation from the scene playing out on the bed had me on the edge as it was, and the increasing enthusiasm from Phil was pushing me towards climax faster than I intended. I didn't want to go just yet, and another idea popped into my head.

---

My arms were starting to get a little sore from holding Martha's weight. Not that she was heavy, she was actually extremely light, but the constant exertion was taking it's tole. If my arms were going to give out soon, might as well take advantage of the time I still had.

I increased the speed of my thrusts, making Martha cry out. I saw some movement out of the corner of my eye, and turned to look at Greg and Phillip. Greg was leading him over to the bed. I lowered Martha back down and let go of her hands. She promptly place them back underneath her, and looked up at Phil and Greg as well.

Greg sat Phil down on the edge of the bed and pushed him down flat, so he was looking up at Martha. Greg then resumed his position from earlier and lowered himself back down onto Phillips cock, working into a steady rhythm. The close proximity to her husband while being slammed from behind must have hit some hidden button in Martha's mind, because her pussy suddenly got tighter. If this kept up I wouldn't last much longer, I had been fighting it for the last few minutes as it was.

I watched as Phillip reached down and started stroking Greg's cock as he rode him, causing his eyes to roll back in his head a little and start moaning even louder.

"I love you, Phillip," she said to her husband as she looked down into his eyes.

"I love you, my dear," he answered her. What happened next is what I can only describe as a romantic, sexual chain reaction.

Martha lowered her head and kissed her husband, lovingly and passionately. The added stimulation of kissing one another threw Martha into another orgasm, this one stronger than the rest, and she clamped down on my dick so hard I would've had to punch myself in the face not to climax as well. So I didn't fight it.

At the same time, Phillip's grip on Greg tightened, causing him to hit his orgasm and clamp down on Phillips cock. The added tightness pushed him over the edge as well.

I came extremely hard, slamming into Martha as hard as I could for the few moments I had left, lengthening her orgasm. She moaned into her kiss with Phillip, as he came in Greg, who was shooting all over Phillips chest.

It was the most erotic and romantic thing I have ever witnessed. My gaze met that of my best friend in those last moments, and I could do nothing but grin at him. This whole crazy experience was pretty much his doing, and I found myself marveling at how amazing my best friend really was.

---

"Well, my young friends," Phillip said as he walked down the stairs, freshly showered and clothed, "I must thank you for a truly unforgettable experience. Martha would like to thank you as well, but she is exhausted and has already fallen asleep," he finished, adding in a wink at Ryan.

"The pleasure has been all ours, Phillip," Ryan replied, as he shook Phil's hand.

"Such a humble man. Haha, you can't fool me," Phil said, shaking his head, "I've seen you in action." Ryan just laughed.

"I can't think of any way to repay you two for the way you have changed our lives, except to help you along in your chosen paths." Ryan and I looked at each other, a little confused at what he could mean.

"Greg, I'd like to hire you as an editor-in-training for the Daily Herald. I told you the editor owes me, but I actually own the company, and Shane is retiring soon anyway. By the time you finish school, the remainder of which the company will pay for, Shane will have fully trained you and retired, and you will replace him. This, of course, is entirely up to you." I'm pretty sure my jaw was touching my toes. This was my dream career, laid out in front of me on a silver platter. This would change my life forever.

"Phil.. I don't.. I don't know what to say.." I said, truly at a loss for words. Ryan grinned at me and put his arm around my shoulders.

"Just say yes bro," he told me.

"Absolutely, Phil. That would be amazing. I won't disappoint you," I said, feeling tears well up in my eyes.

"Fantastic, my boy!" Phil said, taking my hand in his and shaking it excitedly.

"And you, Ryan," he said, "I would like to enter into a business partnership with you." Ryan looked up with a surprised look on his face.

"A business partnership?" Ryan asked, not quite sure what he was getting at.

"As soon as you finish your degree, I would like to be the sole investor in your new fitness center. I will supply the funding needed to renovate a building of your choosing and fill it with the needed equipment," Phil said, as if he were loaning someone money for a bus ride. I had felt my eyes get a little wet when Phil told me about the editorial position, but when Ryan got over the initial shock of what he said about the new gym, he straight up started crying with happiness.

"Are you serious?" he asked, "thats so much money, I don't think I could accept that." Phil just chuckled and clapped him on the back.

"Thats why they call it an investment, my boy," he said, "if you do well we'll begin a franchise and open up more centers. We'll both ending up making much more than I spend to open the first one."

"Oh my god.." Ryan said, digesting what Phil had said. I rubbed his back reassuringly, and he dried his eyes with the sleeve of his shirt.

"You have yourself a deal, Phillip," Ryan said, extending his hand for another handshake. Phil took it and shook it enthusiastically. Then took a more serious tone.

"Of course this all happens only under one condition," he said. Ryan and I looked at each other again.

"Anything," we both said almost at the same time. Phil cracked a huge grin.

"You have to come back often and spend time with Martha and me," he said.

Now it was mine and Ryan's turn to grin.

The End