Pressure
#8 of Fae's Flash Fiction
I've been gone for a bit due to a number of factors I'll go into in a journal shortly. Meantime, have a little something I knocked together in about twenty minutes! Yay flash-fiction!
- Fae
Fae's Flash Fiction - Pressure
He doesn't like to give me any warning. It doesn't matter where we are. At home. Out to dinner. Visiting friends. Sometimes he's just pent and he's gotta fuck, and he doesn't care where.
Sometimes it's on a train.
It's packed as we head out to dinner. Everyone's off work and heading home. His paws are headed for my hips. He presses up behind me, and all I can smell through the sea of sweaty bodies is horny otter. I can't help but tuck my tail up.
I don't know if anyone can see it when he grinds against my ass. I don't know if anyone sees the way he undoes the tail flap on my pants. I don't know if they know I'm wearing a skimpy g-string I bought for his pleasure and nothing else, and when he squeezes my cheeks I don't really care that much if they see the black strap he draws out from between my cheeks.
He's gotta fuck, and my hole's right there.
A jolt on the train sends that pre-soaked tip right down into that hole, and the sound of the train's breaks as it comes into the station drown out my gasp. He fucks me hard enough and often enough that I know I can take him with just pre. He fucks me randomly enough like this that he knows I'm ready for him. When the doors open and more commuters slip aboard, he's slipped in to the hilt.
Train's packed even more full, and there's no way people are gonna argue the way he's pressed against me. Looks a little suspicious with all things considered, but I don't care anymore. I've got a good eight inches of ottercock ground deep in my ass. I'm not in a position to do much more than shuffle my legs apart and rock back against him. He's gotta fuck, and we've got three more stops.
He doesn't bother reaching around to my front and giving my own rock hard cock a squeeze. He knows better. He knows how much I enjoy this little game of his. It doesn't matter how much of my own pre starts spilling out into my g-string when he starts to buck with the motion of the train against me. It doesn't matter how close I'm gonna get. I won't cum. Not until we're back home again. Not until after dinner, and after he's fucked me at least twice more.
By the second to last station before our stop, I think someone nearby's caught us. The wolf's just staring at me, and that's about the point I reel my tongue in and try an innocent smile. He doesn't look like he's bought it, but fuck him. I'm being railed by this point - railed on the railway - and there's enough tightly-pressed bodies around us that no one else seemed to notice how my otter's slamming his hips against mine. They're short thrusts, but damn does that boy fuck hard.
It's the stop before ours when he blows his load. He hugs me from behind and I whimper as I feel him hilt himself and spill. Heat spreads through my insides and pre soaks right through my g-string as I feel him panting against the back of my neck. A glance around shows no one's paying us the slightest attention. Got away again.
He pulls out as quickly as he stuffed himself into me. Leaves me to do up my tail flap again. I feel a little bit of his cum drool back out of my hole, but I squeeze down and keep it all inside as he tucks himself into his pants. When I turn, he looks like just another bored commuter on the train. Then I kiss him, whisper my thanks in his ear, and he leans into me.
It's only when we feel the train jolt again that we realize that we missed our stop. I bite back a curse as I look around at a map of the train's route, and listen to the announcement of it running express from our stop for the next half an hour. That time the curse comes out clear, but my otter shushes me with a webbed finger to my muzzle. He leans in, whispers back what the train conductor just said about express routing.
I feel my tailhole tingle with anticipation as I grin at the lecherous glint in his eye. Half an hour until anyone can get off the train. Half an hour until we're turning around and trying to salvage our dinner plans. Half an hour with a horned up otter who's already squeezing my ass and tugging me close. Half an hour on a packed train with _almost_nothing to do, but he's gotta fuck again.
And I'm now I'm all lubed up with nothing but time.