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_ It's that look again. I just know he's looking for a reaction._ And of course he got one.

I'm minding my own business, and by that I mean to say the business of trying not to fall asleep in class. It isn't like I'm not used to the idea of long, dragging classes, but three hours lecture is slowly killing me. Unfortunately, it's plenty painful along the way.

_ That sergal though..._ Of course, with college seems to come an odd...feeling. I can't be sure what it is, but I'm certain that just upon arrival, there was a change in the atmosphere. Suddenly, it seems like a lot of people are either very busy with relationships or trying to find them. I'm alright by myself. Always have been, anyway.

Worse though, I've started getting a lot of looks from people. The sergal wasn't the first, and, as I realize with a gulp, wouldn't be the last. Don't get me wrong, I'm not the sort to turn down appreciation. I did work hard to get to my ideal physique, and overall my favorite outfits always seek to show that off. I'd be lying if I said I didn't want some attention.

Yet...this sergal is different. The looks he shoots my way are far more appraising in nature, and I'm sure I've caught the sergal licking his lips a few times too! I shuffle uncomfortably at the thought. There can't be many higher forms of flattery, but still...

Even for my comfort in my own body, there is a line that I'm being backed into. Almost every single time my eyes wander over to the other side of the room, even idly, I come away with ears swung to the side and even more pink in the ears than usual.

_ At least for now, he's leaving me alone._ I don't even want to think about what would happen if the sergal decided to come over and start a conversation. I shiver a little, unnerved.

Thankfully, being slightly embarrassed every now and then keeps me awake during this drudgery class. Social order for any species except other canids is always boring, but it'll be an easy class to pass for elective credits. The professor up front, a fox, seems hardly interested with whatever else might be going on his class. Frequently, he teaches like only the front half of the class is present, and even then, he glosses over anyone whose head is dipping in exhaustion.

I would take notes for a little while. Stare into space a while. Watch the professor again. Sneak a peak over to the other side of the room and...

_ He's watching me again._ This time, I gather enough nerves to eye him back until he smiles, breaking my newfound concentration. After that, I have to look away. New people have always been a little bit of a problem for me, but never before has someone just so completely thrown me for a loop! Like I mentioned, there's no way I'd survive a conversation with him.

Someone elbows me from the opposite side, a welcome distraction from the evil on the other side of the room. "You're looking at him, aren't you?" The guy asking me this, Jack, I only know from a few study sessions he managed to goad me into. He always claims I know this stuff better than him, but usually our "studying" devolves into playing games or just talking. He does a lot of the talking.

My blush from earlier returns, and I act like I'm listening to the professor up front even as I bashfully nod once. What would Jack have to say about it anyway? He's pretty gruff and manly, even if he is fox-colored. He wouldn't...make fun of me, right?

I hear a snicker from my left, but other than that, he leaves me alone. The whole experience put together has me pretty on edge. When the lecture ends after an eternity and a half, I pick up my stuff and leave quickly, not wanting to risk an encounter from either of the two on the way out.

...I'm not so lucky. Of course, just as any day, the sergal slips into my way. Normally, he just brushes against me a little too close or says hi and leaves. Today is entirely different.

After looking at something over my shoulder, he turns to walk at my side like we're great friends. Quietly, he strikes up the conversation. "Your name's Crisp, right?" He still has his legendary grin, but it seems less predatory up close. I nod mutely, confounded by the irony of how I was just thinking about this happening. "I'm Scarlet. Most people cut that down to Scar, though. You...wanna hang out or something?"

My voice catches in my throat, which sucks. I could've used that to cheat or at least know if I was going to say no or not. Now I'm just left fumbling and probably pretty silly looking. His smile softens yet again, and his eyes even seem to warm up. "Listen, I'm sorry for jumping you like this. I promise I'll make it worth your while, and all I'm asking is for coffee or something. Nice and short."

I'm still busy swallowing down lumps of anxiety, my first instinct of fleeing only just winding down. Laced in all of his speech comes some sort of intent I can't nail down, but he seems just as eager to take me somewhere as I am to leave here. "O-okay. Sounds nice."

His ears perk. "Good! How about we meet at the campus coffee shop tomorrow around lunch? My treat." There's an enticing feeling about being asked to go somewhere, and more than anything else, I'd at least get to understand the sudden interest in me. I try on my own smile and nod, answered with huge grin and a step forward towards me, like he was going to hug me. "I promise you won't regret it! I'll see you tomorrow!"

Before I make the conscious effort to shove him off, he's gone, bolting with what I'd guess would be a bunch of laughter and another stupid grin on his face. I'm dumbfounded.

Before I wander too far, I happen to look down and find one of my sneakers untied. I gasp loudly, wondering how or when that could've happened. I deal with it immediately and try not to think too hard about it, but the efforts useless. Just like any other time, I come away with discomfort in my shorts and a blushing embarrassment that I can never tell to go away. No one saw. Calm down.

To check on that, I actually do look around. No one close, if nothing else, but the paranoia drives me to get home as quickly as possible.

I'm not sure what drove me to go to coffee with Scarlet. I don't want to say I was curious, because that sounds like I don't know what's coming.

...In a way though, I really have no idea. What do people do with coffee? He wasn't asking me out, right? I shake my head. No, of course he wasn't. He just thinks you're interesting. Maybe Jack knows him? In any case, Scar was waiting for me at a table near the back of the café, his eyes a few miles away, staring out the window next to him.

In fact, I think I may've surprised him when I sat down. "Hey."

His ears turn before his eyes do, and then he smiles again when he sees me. "Hey, there he is! I was getting afraid I'd scared you off." I take the opportunity to sip a little from the drink I'd ordered, wondering what he could've done that scared me. "After all, most people you meet don't decide to just step on your shoe and untie it." He winks at me, his tongue poking between his lips.

I react immediately, my ears clipping to the sides and back, my cheeks starting a bright pink, and my legs crossing over one another. "Oh...you did that?"

He examines me for a while before I feel his own paws under the table, kicking mine in a mostly benign way for the time being. Slowly, his grin turns halfway between sinister and playful. "I did. And it seems you have something to say about that."

I shake my head, still blushing. "N-no! I just...my sneakers mean a lot to me. You caught me off guard is all." Between the tremors in my voice and the picked up movement under the table on his end, I can tell I chose the wrong answer. It's what I get for letting my muzzle lead the way, I suppose.

I feel nerve endings fire off like electricity as his bare paws start working my sneakers over, and since I'm conscious of it, I can't help but whimper and edge away a bit every time the laces come just a little more loose. I'm staring at the table as though I can x-ray vision through and watch the torture proceed.

In spite of it all, I don't try very hard to pull away. I try to tell myself that the laces would certainly come untied I did, but I'm not sure that reasoning convinced even me. "Easy, pup. Why would you tell me about the sneakers if you didn't want this?" I look up finally, and the sergal has a pretty straight face on for bringing so much feeling down on me. He doesn't stop, of course, and I feel more than a couple of thrills up my spine. My shorts have never been this uncomfortable, either.

He continues, "I can tell you're shy, and it's probably because no one's ever paid this kind of attention to you. I'll take things slowly for you. How about that?" I nod quickly, making him chuckle a little. "How about we head to my place?"

The paws under the table finally retract, allowing me to assess the damage. As he stands up to go, I duck under the table to fix my laces, stopped when I see that both are completely undone. I bite my lip and try to stop the pulsing in my shorts before I retie them, getting almost in a worse way as I go. I suppose I must've taken a while, because by the time I pop back up and get ready to leave, the look the sergal is giving me seems ready to burst at the seams.

We walk together, he and I, though I can hardly appreciate the decent walking weather. The entire trip is spent with me trying not to trip as he continues to attack my laces, stepping mostly on me a couple of times in trying. My furious blush and accusatory looks do little more than make him chuckle and continue. "My, my, pup. I can't tell if you're resisting being teased or if you really don't want help with that dick of yours."

Before I get to ask, he turns and leads us to his apartment building, quickly fishing the keys out of his pocket and letting us in. "What do you mean help? And why are you talking about my..." More blushes.

He turns his head in confusion, almost like an actual dog. "Do you mean to tell me you have no idea why we're here?" I shake my head. "You don't know what what that reaction in your shorts means?" I shake my head. He looks baffled. "You've never pawed off?"

I shrug. "I couldn't tell you what that means, honestly," I admit quietly, afraid to say something that'd upset him or mean more embarrassment to me.

Instead, he facepaws, sighing. His ears even flop a bit, as if he was let down somehow. "Damn, I'm sorry. All this time I've been messing with you, and I thought you were just playing the part." His eyebrows furrow in thought, his gaze wandering somewhere over my shoulder.

Eventually, since he's been quiet so long, I ask, "So...should I go?"

His eyes refocus in an almost predatory fashion. "Definitely not! You just have much to learn! Much to see, much to smell..." He continues to ramble even as he walks off, only just remembering to call over his shoulder, "Make yourself comfortable! We have to talk about this."

I'm left standing ever more confused, basically still in his doorway. It takes until the sergal comes back with water for the both of us, his ears still hyper-perked and his tail swishing quickly behind him. "Aw, don't be shy. C'mon. Sit on the couch with me."

I hesitate my way over to follow him, my ears still folded out to the sides and my own tail stock still behind me. He manages to get me to sit on the cushion opposite him, and I scoot into the corner, tucking my tail around my legs and bunching my knees under my chin.

His eyes look me over again. "Let's try this again. I'm sorry I made you uncomfortable. Something told me that you'd want something like this. I guess I don't know what this is, but still. You...do like guys, right?"

I start blushing again. I fumble with my words, admitting, "I-I...I guess I never thought about it much. I was always raised to think that it's...well..."

"Wrong?" I look into his eyes, a level of understanding communicated between us. "Fair enough. So what was it then? Parents? School? Friends?"

There aren't many more ways to describe how flushed my cheeks are as I stutter my way through answering, "Catholic school. T-the most I ever thought about," I gulp, "sex was all the disease you can get and--"

He just starts chuckling and shaking his head, slowly making me quiet down. "No, no, my poor deprived friend. There's plenty you can do without any risk, provided you don't mind..." His statement trails off, leading open suggestion. The look in his eyes tells me little except how much he's hoping I'll let him show me. After a while, he smiles again anyway. "I suppose there's more we could know about one another. Ask me something."

I look off for a while, wondering what I could ask. What can I ask when I don't even know much in the first place? "Well...what did you mean by pawing? I'm guessing it's...dirty." When he starts giggling, my ears pan again.

He doesn't stop giggling for a while, and even a few times when he does, he looks up into my eyes for a moment and is reduced to even more hysterics. Eventually, doubled over, he catches his breath and answers, "Oh, you poor, sweet thing. Before I answer you, haven't you ever wondered why you get hard at everything? Maybe even wake up with wet sheets?" Despite his laughter, his questioning seems to be trying to piece things together, like he knows my life story better than I do.

Maybe he does. I nod with a quiet whimper. I mean sure, I know, on a very basic level, what sex is. To do anything by myself was always frowned upon, to the point where I thought any sort of society would hate it. "Y-yeah...isn't that normal?"

His look of pity takes some of the shame out of the situation, but I still feel like I'm the weird one, not the sergal who forced me into his apartment and started talking to me about all of this. "You must be so backed up... Just keep in mind that if you're uncomfortable during this, you can stop me. I think you'll be enjoying it too much to do that, though." With that, he starts crawling toward me slowly on all fours, holding eye contact with me and making me feel warm and flushed again.

He doesn't stop until he's pinning me by my shoulders, keeping steady eye contact with me, reassuring me that he's still going at a pace I can manage. He pries my legs apart, laying me lengthwise down the couch, and settling into my lap. A simple gyration of his hips into mine yanks a moan from my muzzle, which he mutes with a quick kiss.

I'm blushing pretty hard already, which he seems pretty amused about. "You haven't even seen anything yet, little wolf." He kisses my nose again, keeping me distracted with so many new sensations on my lips and nose that I lose track of everything else.

We lock lips eventually, his scattered teasing focused for at least a moment. My eyes closed in passion a while ago, my memory of the last time I felt this way failing to dredge up any results. Behind every action, Scar carries some sort of weight, but to call it love wouldn't be right.

He pushes against my lips with his tongue after a long while of merely kissing, and finally, I know what word I would use to describe him. Curious. He doesn't understand me, and provided this is actually something I find myself consistently enjoying, I don't understand me either. I gasp and moan in a muffled way when he readjusts over me again.

Throughout all of this, he's been slowly getting me to sprawl at my full height, just tall enough for my head to rest on one armrest while the other rests my feet. It's hardly a conscious effort to try to move my feet and readjust under him just as he slightly picks up, but I get some sort of resistance to my movement on that end. I tug a few more times, and decide that somehow the sergal ended up tying my shoes together.

Noticing my struggle, the sergal breaks our lip lock, leaving us both breathing heavily for a while before he admits, "There was one final thing I wondered about, Crisp. You never explained the shoes, only that they're a big deal to you. So, of course, I had to tease you more with them!"

Of the following events, I'm not sure what's more embarrassing. After he lets me sit up enough to see, the discomfort in my shorts jets into some pleasure spike, washing over me in waves that remove sensation from everything and leave behind tingling everywhere. I moan loudly, my paws flying to the crotch of my shorts as things get out of hand, removing any hope I had of speaking, particularly as I realize he only could have done it with a lot of patience, time, and his footpaws. Damn, he's coordinated.

His words fade in and out of my ears as I collapse back onto his couch, suddenly exhausted. "...did not think that would happen. You going to be okay? Hello? Crisp?" He starts snapping in front of my muzzle, waking me out of my stupor despite the fact that my eyes were open the whole time. By the time my eyes refocus on his and I gain some sort of feeling back that doesn't involve tingling or pleasure, I realize I have the stupidest grin on my face and that my tongue couldn't be further from my muzzle. "Silly wolf."

Catching my breath, but still behind a haze, I admit, "No one's ever done that before. What was that?" I nod towards the dampness that's now very apparent through my shorts, sniffing once or twice as I realize there's a new musk to the air. Maybe I didn't nod. I'm not sure anymore of anything. I could just dissolve into this soft couch...

"Hey!" More snapping in front of my muzzle. "Don't ask questions and then start dozing off!" He starts slowly undoing my shorts, which considering how inexplicably pleasurable everything else has been, I can't find it in my heart to be embarrassed or unsure of his intentions. "You just came. Like, really hard. I think you're really into your sneakers or maybe just me messing with them. I noticed earlier that you got hard when I untied them at the café."

His words seem to swirl and gather and altogether float along in a cloud that doesn't make a whole bunch of sense. "You mean like an orgasm? You...no one's going to get sick now, right?"

Scar chuckles a while, finishing opening the front of my shorts and examining my soaked underwear before looking back up to my confused face. Then he stops short. "Ah, no. That's not how things like that work. We're fine, trust me. You're probably doubly fine right now. You definitely needed that. You only look like you had an accident." He giggles a little more, unable to stop himself. "I wonder though, if you needed that so bad, if we can do a little more for you." He starts pulling at my underwear, spiking my anxiety yet again.

My breathing hitches nervously. "W-what do you mean I need this? What are you going to do?"

He crawls back up my form, resting his paws on either side of my shoulders but not pinning me directly. He kisses my nose, and for some reason I feel calmer already. "You remember how good that felt just now? Well, the funny part is that a lot of guys do that for themselves anywhere from twice a day to twice a month, all depending on what time they've got or how bored they are. Since you haven't done this on purpose in what I'm guessing is ever, I'm going to help you."

It all more or less makes sense, but now the ideas of society and my upbringing come back to bang on the door. "...Is this sex? A-are we gay?" I whisper, not sure if I'm scared or just nervous and still embarrassed.

Scar simply lays one finger over my muzzle. "Shh. Yes, this is, and yes, this is pretty gay, hon." He smiles in a way that almost seems shy for him. "But contrary to belief, this doesn't result in pregnancy or STDs. This is just some messing around, okay? We don't have to do this ever again, we don't have to continue, we don't even have to talk again after this if you want." As he continued his list, his ears started to fold more and more, and there's a glimmer of some hidden emotion in his eyes at the final piece, but much more than seems appropriate to talk about here and now.

The idea of not seeing the sergal sounds extreme, even if I've never done this sort of stuff with anyone before. "T-this is fine, Scar. Should I do something for you?"

His smile slowly comes back, but he shakes his head. "We're focused on you for now. If you don't fall asleep after round two, we'll see what happens." Despite sticking his tongue out at me, he stops my protests short with a quick, "Lift your butt real fast. This is easier without your shorts in the way."

I comply, blushing again. If nothing else, it isn't that I'm scared anymore. I know he's not going to hurt me. I don't know anyone else who'd be patient like this, either. He watches me carefully as he tugs down my shorts, leaving them around my knees, I'd assume, because he wasn't going to get around my sneakers anytime soon. Just remembering those made me bite my lip and feel a few twinges of guilty pleasure.

He didn't bother to look at my most private body part until he was sure my clothes were out of the way, but with a majority of my body exposed and my tail laying flat beneath me, he definitely beheld the sights for a while. He looks up into my eyes and looks a few seconds from making a comment, but then he sees the same bashful look in mine. He pauses again. "Too much?"

I shake my head slowly, but ask quietly, "Would you take your clothes off too?" Caught between not wanting to seem selfish or maybe just not wanting to be stuck under his gaze while he thought about it, I shrug my way out of my shirt, still feeling assured with my light musculature that no one would be able to find something to complain about. Sure enough, just as I get my shirt off, I look up to see him shuffling off from me to shuck his own clothes decently quickly. With a small pit of envy in my stomach, I wonder to myself how many times he's been in this situation.

Scar himself is a vivid red color, and I have no doubt his parents named him after his shock of colored fur. In everything, even his thin frame, he looks similar to any other sergal I've ever seen, but most of those were in movies. The real deal is much more elegant, and were he to conceal his now exposed and swollen sheath and perhaps have his back turned, it wouldn't be hard to mistake him for the opposite gender. Something about his dark eyes betrays a softer side than all the pushing and shoving of today would imply, but more than anything else, his eyes are a safe place.

As he wanders back over to me, he looks me over one last time before climbing back on top of me. "You look really good, Crisp. Just the right amount of muscle." He winks at me, and I can tell that despite earlier, there was no way he was going to cover up that statement. My ears told the story of how that made me feel. "So, now, this is going to be weird, I guess. I want to blow you, but to you all it's going to look like is me licking all over your cock."

Admittedly, I had no idea where things were going to go, and his brief description did not help. Before I voice the question, he stops me again. "Just trust me. This'll be even better than that sneaker stuff." He turns around while still clambered atop me, leaving little in my view besides his rear end, hypnotically swishing tail and all. Every few swings I see under his tail, from his hanging orbs to just slight hints of his tailhole. The same musky scent I noticed that spiked when I saw my sneakers earlier reappears, but it's tinged with Scar's own unique scent.

I hardly have time to watch between swings for his own shaft before my thoughts are interrupted by brief but very purposeful licks around the head of my penis. I don't see as much as close my eyes and visualize every action the sergal takes on me from there on out. He gently caresses over my thighs, petting me and perhaps taking note of all of my fur standing on end with very little instigation.

A few more licks occupy the next minute or so, the amazing sensation literally feeling as though it couldn't emanate through me any more pleasurably. I moaned once or twice a lick at first, but as he picks up speed, my voice instead goes continuously, raising and lowering as he roams over certain weak spots. His paws wander all over the place, sliding back up to my stomach and feeling over my abs, sliding down and cupping my balls, and even once or twice raking through my prostrate tail, all making me shiver in pleasure. Not once does it pass through my mind of how wrong it all feels. If anything, I'm a little upset no one has done this for me before.

But then Scar ups the ante. Without warning, he takes in the head, his licks still gracing what's in his muzzle. My back arches, and already I can feel a building sort of feeling in my nether regions, similar but slower in progression than anything I'd ever felt before. Just so I have something to do with my paws, I start feeling blindly around the sergal's rear end, squeezing over his own thighs and a few times more when I find out I've reached up to his butt. When I find his own tail, I start combing through it and unintentionally giving it a few squeezes as well.

His own moaning starts vibrating what's in his muzzle, which is becoming more by the second. It doesn't take long for my wolfhood to be sheathed in his muzzle, and for his actions to cause me to reciprocate more affection, and for his responses to keep up the escalating cycle. A few times, but not many at all, he comes back up for breath, sticking to licks and pants in between before sinking back down again. With my eyes squeezed tight, my own breathing picks up swiftly.

He seems to pick up on what's going on, and on his final descent, stays rooted and waits, groping about my balls again. Everything else goes white-hot as I howl out, the same sensations as before repeating themselves, this time even multiplied, despite my wildest dreams. Whatever I painted my underwear with is exactly what's pouring down the sergal's throat, though he seems very untroubled by it all.

Eventually I calm down, half-lidded eyes hardly registering anything they can actually see. After a few cleaning licks, he pulls his muzzle off my wolfhood. He licks his lips, admitting, "That was pretty good. You lasted longer than I thought you would, being so backed up as you are. Doesn't hurt that you taste pretty good." He snickers when the comment gets me blushing again.

I clear my throat. "About...earlier." His ears perk, eyes intensely glued to mine. "When you said we could do more if I wanted?" A smile starts spreading on his muzzle. My blush intensifies a little as I finally say, "I really wouldn't mind, if you wouldn't."

He turns back around while I prop myself on my side, allowing more space for him to come close to me. "Well, once you notice that your sneakers are untied, I wonder how much longer you could go." He winks, knowing just what he's done. "I knew Jack had found a keeper. You're always welcome here, Crisp."

A smile, a shy one, but a smile nonetheless, finally makes an appearance. "And if I have more questions?"

"There're more ways than words to answer all of those, you know."

I probably wouldn't have been able to handle more without those words and the now-loose shoes on my feet. Now? My grin almost matches his in size.