Typical Nights - Part 1 ~ Keegan
#1 of Typical Nights
DISCLAIMER~
This story contains a solo gay male fur, and it's gonna get gayer as it goes on â€" so if that's illegal in your area, it'd be smart to get out of here. It also contains a few outbursts of "fuck!" here and there, but then again almost all of my stories do. But yeah â€" this story is 18+, so if you're underage you should get the hell out of here now, kiddo. If you're old enough to read, have fun. If you're not, don't say I didn't warn you.
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I don't know if you guys want me to write another chapter to continue "Acting Class," so until I know for sure if you do or don't, here's the beginning of a new story (this one will DEFINITELY become a series.) This starts off Male (solo), but as the story progresses it will become M/M and possibly M/M/M. Comments and criticism are appreciated, and don't forget to rate and comment! This story has some element of truth to it... alright, so this is my nightly routine. And if you ask, I have an iPhone 3G, so you'll be hit with a few technical terms here and there like "landscape mode," so you don't have to wonder what I meant.
*By the way, Keegan is my 3rd fursona, a blue and silver(ish) wolf. Think of him looking like Weed from Ginga Densetsu Weed.
If I missed any tags or anything is wrong with the story, let me know! And be sure to rate/comment!!
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Typical Nights â€" Part 1 ~ Keegan
By TheFoxyHornball
I toss my things down on my bed in no particular order: cell phone, headphones, charger, lube. "It's gonna be another typical night by myself, it seems," I mutter to myself.
I then proceed to throw myself on the bed, being careful not to land on the bottle of KY as to avoid a mess. I plug my phone in and tuck my headphones underneath the pillow and punch in the 4 digit passcode I have set. Hey, if you hid what I hid, you would put a passcode on your phone too.
My thumb goes through the motions on autopilot. It swipes the "slide to unlock" bar after punching in my code, and once on the home screen it directs itself to the "Photos" icon. It scrolls down and chooses the "Yiffy" folder, and then scrolls more to find the picture that I'll masturbate to tonight. Same old night so far, this is so routine.
Once the picture is on the screen, I rotate to landscape view. I zoom in. Sigh... so boring. I reach for the KY lubricant by my side and whip out my 9 ½" canine cock, something I see every day â€" if not more than once. I'm beginning to get bored of it, I've seen this thing so damn much.
I gratuitously pour the lube onto my hand and onto the tip of my cock, and slowly I start to paw off. I imagine that it's someone else's hand, maybe someone's mouth... or their pretty little tailhole. God, if only I were that lucky. If only I wasn't the only gay kid at the academy (I swear to God that I am, because being the slut I am, if I wasn't the only one â€" I would know.) If only, if only, if only. Always excuses with me, it seems.
"Tonight I might add a bit more excitement to the routine," I tell myself. I slowly run one hand up my chest to my nipples - both pierced - and twist them slightly, enticing a moan from my up-until-then-closed muzzle. I slide my hand down my chest and find the sensitive spot that resides on the underside of my stomach, just above my pelvic bone, which I just recently discovered (through a doctor's appointment, no less.) I press down and my cock grows another inch or so. The knot finally decides to rear its sensitive head, and I quickly throw my other hand around it to massage it. I arch my back in pleasure, but I don't come yet.
For the crowd-pleaser (well, the self-pleaser), I run my middle finger up the underside of my cock, both to add more pleasure but to gather some lube. It's a successful attempt, because my finger slips off the tip of my cock with a copious amount of pre and KY in tow. My finger then finds its way to my tailhole, and within seconds it's up to the second joint. I'm very loose â€" I do this all the time. I probe around inside for the feel of my prostate gland, and about a minute later I'm feeling the added pleasure. All this pleasure, pleasure, pleasure... it's almost making me sick, there's so much of it.
I take another glance at the picture that resides on the screen of my phone (which tonight happens to be my favorite Adam Wan picture) and quickly place myself into the most desired position for me â€" in that picture, of course. In this scenario, it happens to be the fox that is being sandwiched between a wolf and a husky. I slide my finger in and out of my hole quicker... and it isn't working well enough. Seconds later, I have my pointer finger up there as well, probing. God, what a feeling!
My back arches again, and this time there's no plugging this reservoir that's built up inside me. I slide my finger in one more time and slam my fist down to the base of my cock, my balls shrivel, my heart leaps, my cock spasms, I shoot. And I don't just shoot a little, I shoot a whole damn lot. It flies up onto my chest, up onto my face, up onto my pillow. It goes everywhere. And, as part of the routine, I take a finger and wipe it of my chest and off the pillow. I lick my face and I stick the creamy finger into my mouth and savor the flavour. It's somewhat salty, but I spent all day today drinking flavoured water, so it's fruity as well. I pull my fingers out of my hole â€" which is now sore â€" and stretch. Sleep time now? Sounds like a good idea...
"What a colourful life I have," I say to myself as I pull my headphones out from under the pillow and plug them into my phone. "Every night it's the same â€" I come home, I lay down, I fuck myself." I let out a large yawn. My thumb, which is still on autopilot, finds its way to the music folder and turns on "Crazy Loop." It's a catchy but annoying song, and it sure as hell isn't going to get me to sleep, but whatever. When do I really sleep anyway? I shut my eyes as Dan Balan sings "They call me Crazy Loop..." and I'm actually about to drift off to sleep, which is new. "Oh well, this is a good new." I begin to slip off...
Ring ring.
Okay, what the fuck? It's almost 12:00, and someone's calling me? Whatever, I'll ignore it... That is, until I see the caller ID. Krys? I nearly jump out of my fur as I pick up the phone, but I try to sound cool â€" as if I wasn't too thrilled he was calling. "Hey Krys. Why the fuck are you calling me at 12, might I ask?" He laughs a faint, somewhat intimidated laugh on the other end.
"Keegan, I need to talk to you."
Okay, so this isn't a typical night.