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Dragons Don't Need to Shower

or

You Want What I Want

"Been a while."

I looked up and saw a tall, red dragon leaning against the door of the locker room. He was wearing nothing but an orange jockstrap.

"Yeah, not my choice," I said. "Just been busy with things. Work stuff." From his perspective, you would see a black rabbit with white fur down the front removing his blue workout shirt and putting it away into a drawstring athletic bag.

"Think you're gonna be sore?" said the dragon. His name was Allan. I call him Lan. I think other people do, too, but I'm not sure. Mostly it's just us at the gym this late at night, plus the chocolate lab who works the desk.

I sat down on the bench and rubbed my thighs a little. "I'm not sure. Probably, I guess. Been a few weeks since I was last on the bike, and I haven't made any time for stuff in my own time." I go to the gym at night because I'm not the sort of person who can wake up at 5:00 in the morning and do anything physical. My brain doesn't really turn on until 10:00 a.m. as is, which already means the first hour at work is wasted on me. Weightlifting isn't for me, but this gym has some treadmills and a few exercise bikes. Cardio and a light core workout help keep me pretty trim and bunny-shaped, for what it's worth.

Working out late at night is also nice because there's typically fewer people around, especially at this gym. I don't like to exercise with an audience, so that suits me just fine. Then one night last year, I saw Lan lifting across the room while I was running.

"So did you miss me?" I asked.

"Eh, I've made do." He was walking toward me now, his claws clicking on the linoleum floor. The fluorescent lights glinted dull against his chest. His scales were red, and the softer, leathery hide that extended from his chest down between his legs and underneath his tail was white. Two black horns extended from his skull at an angle. "There's that one jungle cat who shows up every so often. Spots or stripes, I can't really remember. Either way, he's fun."

He was standing right in front of me now, his crotch level with my eyes. I felt my heartrate quicken. There's just something about the way dragons smell.

"There was a bird in here the other day, too. Think he was new. New to me anyway, but he had the wrong idea. Had to explain how I wasn't like a lot of those old school dragons." He kinda shook his head a little bit, then put his hand on the back of mine, his fingers running through my hair and guiding me in the direction of his bulging jock. The orange mesh showed a clear outline of everything he was packing, and my nose zeroed in on its favorite spot, just underneath his tip.

"But yeah, it's good to have you back," he said, smiling.

This is what our friendship is like, I guess.

I took a deep breath of his rich scent, filling my lungs with warmth. My eyelids fluttered as I looked up, meeting the gaze of the dragon grinning down at me. Unlike me, Lan doesn't really need to come to the gym. He lifts weights, but I think he's always had that hewn-from-stone look, just a natural by-product of being a dragon. His membership here is less about personal fitness and more about, well-

"It's neat how you'll just go with this now. You used to at least pretend like you didn't belong down there. Now I gotta do this to get any kind of response out of you," said Lan, as he began tugging and stroking my ears. And he's right. Aside from it being just about as close to a religious experience as I have, I'm pretty unfazed when the big guy shoves my face against that bulge.

My ears are a great way to manipulate me, though. If I wasn't already tenting my shorts, just a few expert strokes - or a meaningful nibble - would definitely get me going. Since I was already hard, his attention just got my tail going, fluttering up and down. I gasped and smooshed my face up against him so that his balls were resting squarely over my nose.

I opened my mouth and folded my lips over my teeth, nibbling at his confined sack, wanting him to shed his jock so those hefty orbs could properly warm my face. I knew he wouldn't take it off until he was ready, and if I had made a reach for it he would have caught my hands. These weren't instincts but lessons learned after hours and hours of worship. I nosed around until I found the point of his bulge again. There the mesh was damp, but not from sweat. I closed my lips around that point and nursed at it, tasting him, but only in a filtered sense.

There was no reason to stop until I felt a sharper tug on my ears, pulling me back and away. "You know what I like about you?" said Lan, sitting down on the bench next to me. It creaked, sagging just enough to notice. He swung a leg over so that he was straddling the bench and facing me. "I like that when we're hanging out, you want what I want when I want it."

I wasn't aware of it, but my mouth was slightly open, my tongue perched over my lower lip. My eyes had barely left the dragon's crotch. His thumbs were hooked into the waistband of his jock, and I watched as he pulled down, slowly revealing his semi-erect cock, then hooking the elastic underneath his balls.

His sack hit the bench with a thump, and his dick hovered an inch or so off the wooden surface, curving downward under its own weight. Pre collected in his foreskin, a drop forming at his tip and threatening to fall.

Knowing how to make him fully hard, I went in from an angle, grabbing his cock at its base and letting it rest across my cheek while I once again buried my face in his nuts.

Look, you can't judge me. You would understand if you were lucky enough to be in my position. I don't know how to describe them other than to say I've come to think of baseballs as being Lan-sized, and he has this scent that sets me dangerously at ease. It gets my blood pumping in one very specific direction, and his balls are the epicenter of that magic. So I press my nose right up against the spot where his shaft meets his sack, and I breathe. I breathe in, and then there's nowhere else I want to be.

My friend is counting on me, though, so it's not like I just sat there and went to sleep (not that time anyway). My tongue is well acquainted with those spheres, but a reintroduction is always more than acceptable to both parties. I licked and kissed each one, massaging the other one with my fingers before I swapped sides.

All the while, the thick length of flesh resting on my face grew stiffer, straightening out and then gaining a slight upward curve. I felt pre dripping into my fur and running down the side of my neck.

The first time he ever reached down and wrapped one of my ears around his dick, I squeaked and blushed while he said, "Damn this feels good. I think your ears were made to be on-the-go cock sleeves." This time when he did it, I blushed and purred like a rabbit does when he wants to express exactly how aroused he is by what you're doing to him. He had my ear curled around his tip and was taking small rapid strokes so that it was soon soaked in pre. When I pulled back and repositioned myself in front of his fully erect cock, the mommocked ear remained flopped forward, unable to straighten up under the weight of the wet fur.

The gym does close eventually, so I didn't waste time leaning forward again and trailing my open mouth down his considerable length. Lots of licking, kissing, and slurping at his tip -- that's what pleasuring Lan with my mouth looks like. Despite months of practice, I still can't go all the way down on the dragon. The throat is stubborn when it comes to stretching, and my gag reflex remains untamed.

Lan doesn't mind, though. It gives us an excuse to keep trying, and really it's just another part of our ritual now. Plus, he and I both know I'm more talented elsewhere, and that more than suits his tastes.

A few minutes later he pulled me up to a sitting position by the ears, then moved his hand down to my cheek, stroking it softly for one with such big hands. I wiggled my nose while looking him in the eyes. He still had that smile on his face. Mine was decorated with flecks and strands of pre, which he set about rubbing into my fur with his thumb.

"You ready to go all the way?"

My ears twitched. Familiar phrasing. "Not here," I had to say. "Last time they threatened to cancel my membership."

"Aha, oh yeah." His laugh had a force all its own, one that could pick you up no matter what. "Well let's get a shower before we go," he said, standing up.

My ears twitched more. Another familiar phrase, this one a heavily loaded statement. I half mentioned this before, but dragons don't sweat. Not like mammals do. Their natural body heat is so high that it escapes from them as pure vapor instead of perspiration. That's why their scent is so heavily concentrated around the softer parts of their bodies. The point is: dragons don't need to shower.

I watched him take off his jock, and when I didn't move he turned and said, "Look I heard you, but if I don't let off a little steam before we go, you're risking a reenactment of that one cab ride but in your car this time."

(Both of us were a little stunned after that incident. We basically threw money at the driver and fled the vehicle as quickly as possible, hoping it would be enough to clean or replace the upholstery. I've been scared to use Uber ever since.)

He walked off toward the shower, tail swishing as he called back, "Remember: you want what I want."

Lan was waiting at the far end of the big communal shower, leaning against the wall in our corner while stroking himself.

It was our corner for two reasons. First, we like to keep our relationship with the staff as cordial as can be. Having Lan's claws leave gouge marks all over the tiled floor is not the way to do that. By concentrating on one spot, they either don't care or haven't noticed. He's got some nice grooves going that keep him from slipping now.

The second reason is that when we angle the shower heads just right, we can get pretty decent drainage. Neither of them were turned on at the moment I walked in, though. Things go much smoother if you wait to turn the water on until after you're done.

Standing next to the dragon, I came up to his shoulder. For perspective, I'm just over six feet tall, not counting my ears. My eyes were drawn down by the motion of his arm, his fingers slowly gliding over his cock. He had his foreskin pulled back now, and he was leaking pre freely, the thick, translucent substance running down the underside of his shaft and dripping from his gently swaying sack. His whole dick was coated in the stuff.

Lan is the only guy I've ever met who doesn't need lube. I can't tell you how many wolves and whatevers have bragged to me about their self-lubricating cocks, but did every one of them still carry a pack of lube when they went out? You bet your ass they did. Of course there's another reason Lan doesn't need lube, and that's because-

"Hey," he said, making me flinch.

I had reached out and was stroking his cock without even realizing it. I withdrew it, licking my fingers.

He put his hands on my waist and looked down into my eyes, and this time his smile was tinged with mirth as well as hunger. "If you cum here, I'm not coming back to your place, got it?"

He was bluffing, and I told him as much.

"You seem pretty confident," he said, "but put it this way: I don't want you to cum."

I opened my mouth, but this time all I did was make a huffing noise.

Then he picked me up by the hips, lifted me up so that his head was even with my crotch, and pinned me against the wall in the corner. Even after all this time, that move still makes me squeak. And when he sticks his snout under my balls and extends his tongue-

Listen: I mentioned that dog that works the desk, right? Through his whole shift, he sits there with some big headphones on, watching Netflix on a tablet or listening to music. He only started doing that after Lan and I met. I don't really know which way the guy swings, but I guess something about what he hears the nights we're here make it harder for him to do his job.

(What I'm saying is I'm loud and I don't really apologize for it. Lan certainly doesn't - it cracks him up.)

I was there, my legs hooked over the dragon's broad shoulders, holding onto his horns while he supported me by the hips and feasted on a faceful of my ass. This was the other reason he didn't need lube: dude gives rimjobs like lightning storms. They start with a slow rumble as he swirls his tongue leisurely around my hole, followed by a swift burst of electric sensation up my spine as his tongue slips into me and lashes my prostate. He alternates seemingly at random, sometimes tracing slick lines through the fur on my taint and down near my tail, other times delivering a series of rapid jabs through my ring. His tongue is thick, too, and his saliva viscous, so it more than does its job.

Meanwhile, all the tile in the shower and the locker room just beyond acts like an echo chamber, so I'm pretty sure desk dog spared no expense on those headphones. He's got the noise-canceling kind and everything.

After one particularly earnest tonguing sequence, my voice broke and my dick was throbbing, and I wanted to say something but couldn't form the words-

Lan pulled back and lowered me to the floor, still holding onto my hips as he knew my legs would be shaking. He always seems to know what I'm feeling at any given moment. It gets in my head sometimes.

He gave me a moment and then turned me around to face the wall, and I leaned forward, bracing myself with my hands. "This should be quick, and then we can head back to your place and give you what you really want," he said.

I flicked my ears and looked back at him over my shoulder. He still had a grip on my waist. The fur between my cheeks was drenched with his drool, and I could feel the heat coming off his dick, hovering just inches away from my wiggling rear. "You always say that like I'm not gonna have to rinse off after this," I said.

"Hey, who knows? Maybe I'll miss."

"Yeah, you always say that, too!" I barely finished the sentence before he pressed himself to my ring and pushed into me.

Now this I can do, and I'm sure you're probably thinking it's just because I'm a rabbit, but listen: I've got a foot-locker full of silicone that's a testament to the work I put in to stretching like this. Does being a bunny make me any more accommodating than other species? I don't know, I'm not a scientist. I think it has a lot more to do with wanting it, and gosh, I really, really wanted it.

Besides, this wasn't the first time I'd taken his cock. Lan wasn't even my first dragon.

He is however the best dragon.

He pushed forward while pulling back on my hips, causing my back to flatten out and give him the angle he wanted. I was relaxed and wet enough that he was able to slide into me in slow motion, tip first with a soft pop, and then inch after inch, on and on until he was just a bit further than halfway. The dragon gave me a moment to breathe and adjust. Nothing could stop my legs from shaking, but he wasn't going to let that slow us down.

When he pulled back, he came back in at a shallow angle, building rhythm and thrusting upward so that my heels left the floor. I knew what he was trying to do, dodging my prostate so I couldn't get off. The only issue there is that meant I knew he was just using me so that _he_could get off, which.... I think is really damn hot. My cock was still stiff as all get out, dripping pre and flopping up against my abs. His scent was getting to be overpowering, too, and I was pressed against the wall, panting and huffing.

His pace was that of a crescendo, every thrust a little more urgent, every breath hotter on my back. He was still only plowing me with half of his length, so his balls were just tapping the back of mine on his upswing rather than slapping against my ass full force. My ring was burning in the best way, the way any other muscle does during a good workout. The only difference is that's the burn of satisfaction, and this was the burn of "give it to me harder."

I could tell he was close only because I had been with him enough times to know when he was struggling to hold back. He started slapping his tail against the floor, punctuating each thrust. Then he pulled back, so that only his tip and a bit more were inside me while he stroked the lower portion of his shaft with one hand. I heard him breathing through clenched teeth, and then there was a tremendous gasp as he pulled out, splattering my ass with his cum.

I felt a jet against my gaping hole, then another one that shot up my crack and into my tail fuzz. He covered both of my cheeks and then pulled me back against him, hotdogging my ass while he shot the rest of his load onto my lower back. Not a drop hit the floor.

To signal he was finished, he started rubbing his cum into my fur with his hands.

"You know doing that doesn't get us back to my place any sooner, right? Just makes rinsing off take longer," I said.

He didn't answer, still massaging my back, leaving the fur there sticky and ruffled. Then he turned me around and let go of me for the first time in the past twenty minutes.

My legs gave out.

Before I could say anything, he had flopped his cock onto my face, and he was wiping the cum off his hands with my ears.

I blushed. I squeaked. I started to bathe his cock with my tongue. The combined smell and flavor of dragon, cum, and me made my dick hurt, and I tried to recall the last time I had actually left that shower feeling clean.

"We're in no rush, bunny boy," said the dragon. He reached over my head, and I was vaguely aware of a knob squeaking before the feeling of hot water came running down my back. "The night is young, and I have so much more to give you."