Gym Showers – Taxing Duties
#4 of Gym Showers
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"Fuck this."
The huge tiger muttered to himself as he threw his pen down onto the kitchen table, yawned, scratched his taut belly through his sleeveless T, flapped his tail against the floor and made a dark face. He blinked a couple of times, repeated the yawn, and tried to make the numbers stop bouncing in front of his field of vision. The carefully stored bills, leafy receipts and other documents strewn across the table looked even uglier than before for Rodger, whom scowled at the prospect of doing his taxes for the umpteenth time today.
It didn't help that there was a huge tent in the front of his boxers, the only garment he wore besides his shirt, a patch of blue, stretched fabric lined with beefy striped thighs that looked tense and filled with unused energy, even after the tough workout he'd had on the day before.
"Fuck this," Rodger repeated to himself, stretched his paws up high above his head, and enjoyed the feeling of his spine popping with the motion to release the tension in his upper body. His paws fell down and sought out his body, the soft cloth giving way for his gentle scratching of his own torso. The tiger let out a displeased huff, and smacked his long tail against a table leg. Working on his taxes was one of his least favorite activities to begin with, and today it seemed even less interesting, considering that his mind simply wasn't into it.
The tiger pushed the chair back a little, making a screeching noise on the tiled floor of his bachelor pad kitchen, yawned again, and let his eyes fall to the decisively pyramid-like shape of his boxers. It wasn't just that he saw it, the feeling of the fabric clinging to his hard, pointed, thick shaft was infuriating. His balls seemed to be aching a bit, too, after having not gotten off in all of 24 plus hours...
Rodger's ears flattened.
...not since that...that stupid thing.
The tiger snorted and slammed one of his huge paws against the table, which almost sent the little pocket calculator flying to the floor out of the shock. He hadn't dared to jerk off, simply because even thinking about it popped up in his mind's eye the sight of the huge, muscled, wet tiger peeking into his cubicle at the gym showers, leering at Rodger's own not too shoddy physique and...admittedly...the lustful sight of Rodger beating his meat and generally enjoying himself in the shower. The rude intrusion of he nameless stranger, not only in his personal space, but on his body as well had left him furious...and suffering from a semi-permanent hard-on that simply wouldn't go away. It had filled his pants during his day at work, trying to concentrate hard enough into coordinating the road renovation works for the city technical department...which probably also made him seem especially workful on the day, always walking around with a thick file folder strategically placed...
The tiger snorted, remembering how he'd almost knocked over that little slinky panther in the corridor back in the office, which had caused his own protective equipment to fall onto the floor...and for a second he'd panicked and hoped that nobody would spot the massive bulge...
"Shit."
Rodger decided to abandon the taxes for good, got up, grumbled to himself as he padded over to the fridge and took out a can of beer which he opened with his teeth while making the return trip into the living room.
"Sluuuurp."
The TV remote was easy to locate and hit on a channel, which was at least showing something manly enough, the tiger decided, some sort of a program about lifeguards working on a crowded beach. He let out a satisfied grumble, with his ass finally on the couch, beer in paw, and bouncing butts and boobs in bikinis on his big ass TV while sunglasses-wearing lifeguards roamed around in cool manly quadbikes and muscle boats.
"Shit yeah!" Rodger declared the program to be to his liking, complete with lots of eye candy and manly machines.
"Sluuurp."
He tossed the remote away and put his paw behind his neck, put his legs out and relaxed onto the couch. His arms and thighs ached a bit from the workout yesterday, but that was a regular, good feeling, which he savored. It told him that he was doing well in keeping up his 200 pound frame of manly perfection. The photos he took in front o f his bedroom mirror every week were more than enough of a proof...he couldn't wait to see how he'd look like next Friday, after his second gym workout for the week...all pumped up...smelling of sweat and steel...booyeah...
The tiger's belly suddenly clenched as his dirty mind conjured up the voice of the mystery tiger...
"See you on Friday."
Rodger's stubborn erection throbbed inside his skimpy boxers. The tiger snorted to himself. He shouldn't be thinking about it...rather, he should be thinking about the best way of gaining revenge, in case he'd actually happen to meet the tiger tomorrow...if he'd go to the gym tomorrow...he wasn't so sure anymore, considering that his trust of Eric's Gym Grotto had taken a rather large hit from the fact that ravenously sexual tigers stalked the showers and thrust their paws upon innocently jerking-off wildcats in their very private cubicles...
Blargh.
Rodger tried drinking his beer and scratching his belly some more, feeling up for those hard-worked, hard-earned abs.
"Shit."
Maybe he should complain to Eric about a peeping tom (cat) in the showers. Surely the huge bull didn't want his gym to turn into some kind of a fairy playground....there were other places like that for furs who were like that, and Rodger sure as hell didn't want to go pump his iron in a place where nasty tigers looked for someone to pump asses with...hell no...he wasn't gonna be their unwitting entertainment while simply doing his own thing for his own pleasure, not seeking to kind spank bank material, or...
...or just walk into someone's shower and grab their dicks and smile and shit and jerk then off until they shot some unwilling tiger cream into Eric the bull's immaculately cleaned showers. The stink could've been awful if not for the shampoo and the running water.
But even that had its troubles...the tiger's brow furrowed as he considered approaching the bull with such a topic. Explaining how it just happened that he didn't beat the crap out of the tiger or reported it right away might be difficult, not to mention, it might just come to the bull's knowledge that he'd been actually pulling his pud in the shower even _before_someone did it for him...
God, his cock was almost hanging out of his boxers as it was...he could see the outline of the tip near the waistband...the pressure of the elastic upon his sensitive barbs...his aching balls and his itchy sheath, all messed up in that snugly confined set of innocent boxers...
Damn, maybe he'd just have to take a really nice, cool shower and put on a jockstrap or something, whatever would make it seem a bit less obvious that he was sporting some serious wood even then. Out of sight, out of mind, right?
But probably the crusty insides of a well-worn jock would feel even better against his sensitive, pleasure-seeking barbs...
Rodger slapped his tail against the armrest of the couch and snorted. He was a pretty horny guy, but this was starting to get ridiculous as far as it came to thinking about sex all the time. Watching hot girls playing beach volley on TV didn't help much, either, probably...though the tiger welcomed the distraction. Gave him a perfect excuse to scratch his balls and feel them up a bit. He let out a deep, manly purr.
"Well what the hell."
He was already rock hard, might as well put it into good use, anyway. He put the beer away and simply pushed the front of his boxers down so that the elastic pulled underneath his balls, causing his stiff dick to bounce onto his belly.
"AHmmmnnn..."
This was gonna be great, he thought, just a nice little jerk-off session to blow off some steam, oh yes, his tail was lashing out like a whip, his paw running up and down over his damp, warm flesh...using just the right amount of pressure he knew he needed to get off...this sure was life, he thought, just relaxing, beer, TV, bouncing asses and no need for stressing about...
...about tigers in showers.
"NHhhgghhh..."
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