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Passing Grade

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Professor Caulfield's instructions to Curtis had been very simple, and the jock, much to the bear's delight, had followed them down to a T.

"Very good...son," the bear grumbled, while his eyes roamed the wondrous sight of the wolf's tight rump on such a fine display. "Just keep them spread like that...just like that."

"Okay," the jock replied, tentatively. The bear laughed at the nervous quality of the usually cocky, boisterous wolf's voice, and truth be told, it made his cock throb harder in his underwear.

"It's more than okay...it's...passable, I hope," the Professor growled dirtily, enjoying the pulsing of his very firm, thick, sweaty shaft against the fabric of his Y fronts.

"Y-yes, sir," the wolf's tail swished from side to side with his quiet remark.

"Hmmm..." the bear rumbled approvingly, "that's right...you shall call me sir..."

The wolf's ears flicked back and forth, still nervous, it seemed, while he remained in his posture, standing with his legs spread, leaning forward a bit, and with his paws holding his rump cheeks apart as he'd been told before, to expose the crack between them, white fur, the loose sac of his nuts, though obstructed from the view by the white jockstrap he was wearing, and going up into the very base of his tail, where the usually hidden hole was now getting the bear's full attention thanks to the wolf's exposing action.

"Y-yes sir," the jock boy sounded subdued while he struggled to maintain the slutty pose without wavering from it, tail held up and his buns spread to let his horny professor stare exactly as much as he wanted, eyes drilling into the sporty lupine's butt with delight.

The bear was lying on the motel bed, legs spread to expose his beefy thighs, one arm resting over his muscle gut of a belly while he fondled his swollen package, the other paw simply relaxing upon his chest for now. Staring into the wolf's forbidden rosebud, his mind wandered briefly into the note he had given to the college boy, containing his ultimatum.

Your fail will become a pass for one night.

Come to the Nightview Motel at 22:00 on Friday.

Don't wash after your lacrosse training.

Wear your jockstrap. Being a jock, you surely have one.

C.

And he did, and it was stained with sweat, hugging the wolf's toned hips and lining up his butt most attractively with its white elastic bands crisscrossing his posterior. It truly made for a magnificent sight, one that the Professor wanted to store deep in his memory, to be recalled during any dark, lonely moment on his own when a warm thought should be summoned to entertain him.

"That's very good, son," the bear rumbled again, "you're making your Professor very pleased..."

"Y-yes, sir," the wolf said.

"Aren't you glad that you've been given this opportunity?" the Professor stated, squeezing at his own balls while he watched the wolf's tailtip flicker.

"Y-yes sir...thank you...sir..." the jock spoke to the wall he faced, and it only made that tail move further, back and forth it swung. The bear had to blink. It was distracting, almost taking his mind away from the true prize, the muscled buns and the little pink pucker of delight between them, pried into the open by the jock wolf's very own paws so that his Professor could take as long a look as he wanted.

There probably weren't enough hours for that, quite, nor the exact words the Professor would have liked to employ to compose poetry that would do justice for the pink fold of muscle. His lust for jock rumps had grown impossible to control over the years, and his appetite seemed to be...harder to sate as of late.

At least they kept falling onto his clutches, still, by the virtue of being dumb jocks who would be desperate enough to do this for the chance of getting a passing grade on their course.

"Turn around, and walk over here," the Professor commanded.

The wolf let go of his ass cheeks, which sprung back into their natural posture, and his tail dropped as well, in a hint of masculine protective instinct. The wolf turned about, his eyes held down, ears quite flat, his groin covered in the white cloth marked with black stripes along the thick waistband of the jockstrap. The sight was enjoyable but not as delicious as the other side, but the professor intended to rectify that.

"Now, I like nothing more than have my boys bend over for me to do this, but my knee has been acting up lately and I've been told to rest it, which means that I'll have to take another approach...not any less enjoyable, however..." the bear growled and chuckled amusedly at his own words, "hence...you must straddle me, and present yourself for me...and I'll do the rest."

"Y-yes... " the wolf mumbled.

"Yes what?" the bear grunted.

"Y-yes sir..."

"Come here," the bear patted his own chest, and put his paws down to his own sides. "Sit your dirty ass on my muzzle, boy."

The raunchy command was spoken in a low grumble, a nasty voice unlike the refined tones the bear employed while engaging his audience in his lectures. The cultured, clipped accents were gone and replaced by the needy murmurations of a large man, a daddy, truly so, directing his dominant words at the shaky-tailed young man of 20 who currently stood by his bed like a shaky leaf and smelled so delicious. Musk, sweat, man...canine...a hint of shampoo, perhaps, but nothing that'd told the bear that he'd broken against the order on his note that told him to appear at this dank motel on the given hour.

"Hop on...boy..."

The wolf climbed onto the bed, awkwardly so, almost smacking the bear's face with his tail in the process.

"Put your legs on either side of my neck...and sit down...you'll know when you're low enough..."

His eyes were already full of butt...the aroma of the musky crevice ever increasing in his nose. The bear rumbled and inhaled, quick and deep, a sharp noise that made the wolf's ears flick quickly as he heard it.

"Yes...boy perfume..." the bear growled, "down...down..."

He gripped the strapped hips and guided the shaky wolf down for the rest of the way, the few inches that were required for the bear to get balls on his chin and sweaty ass on his face.

"Hmmhhhhh..."

The wolf's breathing hitched when he felt the warm puff of air from the bear's muzzle, washing along his crack, tickling the little hole the wolf had been trying to hide to no avail, now plastered over the delicate, slightly wet skin of the bear's nosepad while he burrowed into the wolf's crevice.

At first, he was content with only sniffing around, to truly sample the jock's musk, worked up through an hour of training on the field. These muscles of his rump, flexing as he propelled himself across on the grass, leaping, swinging...so many movements that would surely cause the wolf's buns to rub together, generating even more heat and musk to impregnate the furs under his lips well.

The wolf did not disappoint, in his fragrance. The bear was sometimes in awe of the sexual power such a simple act could have over himself, enjoying a young man's butt like he was now, holding it slightly spread while he simply dwelled in the weight of the wolf's rump on his muzzle and the scent of a man filling his nose, burgeoning with musk and masculine energy.

So familiar...yet new. Everyone was subtly different, a fact that thrilled the bear to no end. He wanted to sample many indeed, and this wolf added to his tally in a most pleasing manner...and it was quite the collection, and most of all, an ever-growing menagerie of buttholes of different shapes and colors and sizes, along with their respective asses that went with these favored body parts.

These jocks just never learned...but perhaps that was what brought such lovely asses upon his muzzle. All the time they should've spent studying, instead they would be running around, or doing squats, or wrestling, like that particularly dim-witted bear who simply had to pass the course...

Thinking about that musky bear butt made him want to do only one thing, and that was to eat ass, which, blissfully so, was not hard to come by at this particular time, with the muscled butt cheeks already resting against his own cheeks, lips parted while he growled in pleasure and inhaled the wolf's potent musk.

"Uhh..." the wolf moaned at the sensation of a tongue, huge, slippery, big bear tongue stroking right onto his pucker and making it clench out of surprise.

The bear was practically purring at the the sound the wolf made, the very first, subtle contact of an eager tongue with straight butthole getting its virginal touch of an eager ass-eater's tongue that definitely knew what it doing, where it was going, and and that was up that boy's asshole until he'd be struggling to get more inside that prudish little anus.

The Professor's tongue danced upon the wolf's fleshy close, causing it to contract rhythmically. The jock's butt musk was exactly as delicious as he could have imagined, based on the little samples he had managed to steal before tapping directly into the source. The wolf was so sensitive, so lost, obviously never having had his butt played with - even on this age of free sexuality, the bear thought, such a remarkable pity, all these straight boys going around without nobody showing what pleasures could be had with a simple fingertip, a tongue, perhaps a bold toy or even a nice, hard, thick, dripping cock, should things really go his way, but all that could happen, indeed...right now, the first lesson was underway, and he had always been known to be very good with freshmen.

With gusto, Ass Play 101 proceeded, past the initial licks into fully blown butt muching. The hole was tight, which meant his tongue needed to give a lot of effort, to press and rummage onto the muscled pucker held upon his lips by some trembling knees and the bear''s own permanent ass-eating-grinning maw. Teaching these holes to accept tongue was so much fun, simple outright pleasure that came from his dirty muscle drilling up into such a teasable little boyhole. The bear would consider it almost an insult to his trade should the boy, once he'd be done with him, not get into a habit of washing his ass very carefully indeed during each shower he took from now on, spreading those cheeks while he'd rub soapy fingers up and down his crack, to get such a tentative, 'accidental' feel of his hole before moving on to the manly, natural act of washing his balls. Would he murr...moan...make noises like the ones he did now, riding the bear's muzzle involuntarily while his processor slithered about his opening?

There was only one way to find out, really, and that was to give him an experience he would not forget, to truly push in the issue, to drive it home, to...spread the good word, really, his mind truly was writing some lovely lyrics about the topic of rubbing a boybutt clean with his spit-soaked tongue pumping into the saliva-lubricated bud of a jock's hot sweaty hole.

The bear's cock was so very hard, straining against his underwear in a manner that made him wonder, briefly, whether at some point it could really be possible to simply...burst out of them so that the hunched wolf would come face to face with his bare, hot cock. He could easily slip his undies down and let him stare all he pleased, of course, but that would mean removing his muzzle from where it was, under the wolf's arched tail, and the bear, working up a storm, couldn't really disengage for even that short period of time it would require. Having a curiously moaning wolf on top of him was simply too much fun...all the rest could come later, enjoyed in...small, pleasant sips he could have linger upon his tongue once he was done.

This lesson would be brief...leisurely, but not shaking up the wolf too much yet. Just a pleasant rustle of tongue against his hidden jewel, the prostate buried onto the wall of his rectum, with the power of creating a whole new myriad of moans when the bear's tongue slipped within and rolled around with more agility and pleasure giving ability than any finger ever could hope to achieve, penetrating under a wolf jock's sweaty tail.

Could he...yes...yes...just a little more...and he was there...the wolf, that was, barking out in pleasure when the tongue brushed past his prostate and sent indescribable pulses of joy into his loins.

The bear left his hole dripping with saliva by the time he'd had ebnough...for now...telling the boy to roll off him with a pat on his rump.

"Good job, son," he told the wolf, "this'll get you a pass...but to get the grade up...same time next Friday."

The wolf hesitated...but the bear knew that he was caught...by the look of his eyes, the confused glance, the slight increase of a bulge upont the front of that jock.

"And leave that jockstrap for me when you get dressed, I shall have other uses for it," the bear instructed.

"O-okay sir."

All too soon the college jocks' butt was hidden in his jeans and he was gone out of the door, but the bear laid on the bed, relaxed, and with the jockstrap securely wrapped around his muzzle while he jerked himself off the a truly volcanic release all over his fuzzy belly and chest.It left him licking his lips afterwards, while he breathed deeply, and he could still taste the wolf upon his maw.

"Until...next time..." the bear mused.

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