A Sore Loser
After a particularly disappointing tournament loss, Artie returns home to a friend who's eager to help him cheer up.
The crowd was roaring, a cascade of insults and cheers raining down on the two competitors as they played their hearts out. This stage was foreign to the Charizard, but not all too foreign. He'd made it pretty far in monthlies before but against a player such as Westballz's caliber, he was surprised he'd tied the set at 2-2, West coming from winners. Artie was so close, he had him to his last stock, 100 percent, he just needed one opening. That was when he choked, he overcommitted to an edge guard, and was dunked by Falco's side B as he made his way back to stage. Artie shook his hand, and quietly wrapped his controller up, stepping out of the venue shortly after.
He'd saved up for months to get to Xanadu, and, while he didn't expect to win, he was just disappointed in himself for going out like that. A rookie mistake at the most crucial moment; he felt terrible. Getting back to his car, he began to long drive back to his home. The trip home was uneventful, he kept his music off, he was over the loss; however, he was beating himself up over how silly it was to get this salty. It didn't improve as he drove, and by the time he got home at one in the morning, he was ready to just go to sleep.
He made his way into his room, and tossed his bag onto his futon, where it joined the rest of the junk he kept on it. His room wasn't small, but the mess about it was surprising. It bothered him to no end and yet, he couldn't really bring himself to clean it with how lazy he was. He wasn't going to dwell on it for long, he simply flopped into his bed, gazing at the closet door next to it. The swirl of negative emotions just didn't stop, and as his eyes began to grow heavy, a shrill ringtone pierced the silence. He reached into his hoodie pocket, he hadn't bothered to undress, and pulled his phone free. The screen flashed the picture of a mightyena, his friend Aeir. He answered, hoping his tone would come off as tired rather than depressed.
"Yo, Artie! I saw you on stream, you were so close!" Aeir sounded far more enthusiastic about it than he did.
"Yea, real close." Artie's voice sounded worse than he thought and it didn't go unnoticed.
"You alright?" Artie cursed himself for not being able to hide it better. "Yea, I'm fine. Why do you ask?" "You just sound really down. Hey, will you be up for a while?" He really wasn't in the mood for company, he just wanted to be alone; however, against his better judgement, he went ahead with it. "Sure, you wanna come over?" "Sure, I bet you've got lots to talk about. I'll be over in a few, don't fall asleep on me, TubZard."
The call ended there and reluctantly, Artie rose up out of his bed. He was surprised by just how quickly the Mightyena got to his room, it was no more than five minutes after the call had ended. He was dressed in a pair of shorts and a t-shirt. The Mightyena was rather fit, his body boasting a lightly muscled frame, he made his way to the bed where Artie had not moved from, flopping next to the dragon. They discussed his experience, the way he'd met players he'd admired for a long time from the streams, and even beat a few of them. Then came his performance against West in grand finals, and the bitter sting of defeat returned. "Hey now, you can't blame yourself for being a little salty. It happens to everyone." Aeir said
Artie wasn't in much a better shape, though the talk had him thinking a bit more optimistically about the experience. "I know I know; I just feel so stupid getting all down about this." Aeir had one more trick up his sleeve, the stubborn Zard wouldn't be left to sulk. The Mightyena pushed Artie back, the chubby body jiggling about as his wings splayed out. Artie had taken his hoodie off during his wait, leaving only his tank top to conceal his gut. A paw lifted the tank top up, his chub spilling out in all its round, chubby glory. The blue belly was huge, soft to the touch, and the Mightyena knew just how sensitive this squishy mound of flesh was.
The canine's paw mushed into the chub, a low, guttural sound coming from above. Artie could try as he might, but the way those paws were gliding and rubbing against the squishy scales, he soon found himself relaxing against the bed. And so, it went on, the Mightyena's paws working the chub, the Zard relaxing beneath his euphoric touch. The Zard wasn't surprised in the slightest when his paws dipped down past the swell of his gut, beneath the mass of chub, and into his boxers. He was excited in seconds, the hot flesh of his shaft hardening beneath the teasing touch of the Mightyena's paw pads. The soft, supple flesh fueling his excitement as the black, uncut tip began to drool sticky, hot pre against them. Artie's breaths began to quicken as Aeir tugged his boxers down, leaving the thick blue shaft and heavy sac in the open. Hungry eyes took in every little throb, and a paw hefted his balls. His balls were thick, heavy, and a favorite of his friend's, the thick musk and heavy loads spilled from the wonderful jewels all so enticing. His cold nose pushed up against them, he could feel Aeir inhaling his scent, see him shuddering in delight as the musk filled his nostrils.
Aeir grinned up at his friend, his maw slowly opening to take both thick balls into the warm, slick depths of his maw. Artie tensed as his sensitive flesh was surrounded by dripping wet muscles, and the rough, slobbery caresses of a canine tongue. Its flat, rough texture swathing across each nut, soaking them in saliva. He couldn't help but groan, a sticky rope of pre firing off against his gut. His body temperature was rising, as if a literal flame of arousal burned within his belly. That relentless assault of his sac never ceased, the canine carried on suckling and barely grazing the sensitive sac with his teeth. He could feel the pleasure building up, a familiar, urgent sensation rising in his loins. He was still in awe at how well the Mightyena did this, getting him off just by sucking his sac. Just a bit more... and he'd be brought to a powerful, hands free orgasm. The canine could pick up on the pulses, and gave a hard suckle before a breathy cry warned him of the oncoming orgasm.
Artie's muscles tensed, his hips bucked, and his tip fired off thick, gooey ropes of hot dragon cum down onto Aeir. His face was covered in seconds, the flow continued on in powerful spurts until Artie felt it eventually begin to die down, feeble throws drooling his seed from his tip, and down his shaft. Aeir slowly released the plump balls with a wet slap as they rested back against the dragon, a toothy grin being sported as he lapped away the seed he could from his face. The salty, powerful taste pleased him, and an obvious tent was sported in his shorts. Artie grinned, gesturing to his futon where, buried within his coats and whatever else he had on there, a bottle of lube always rested. The canine made quick work of his clothes, revealing a slim, firm torso and more importantly, an impressive looking rod.
Artie always admired canine's dicks, the crimson, tapering shaft covered in veins, the bulbous knot at the base. He watched, mesmerized as Aeir covered his cock in a generous layer of lube. Aeir made his way back to the bed, the Zard's legs were spread far apart, revealing his puckered entrance that clenched in anticipation. Aeir crawled over him, his tip jabbing and poking against the ring, teasing it with his hot flesh. "Ready?" "R-Ready..."
Artie braced himself, yet still found himself groaning and whining as the flesh filled his rump. The burning sensation was familiar, but faded rather quickly as each inch sunk in until the knot rested against his ring. He glanced to Aeir, giving a nod, and on que, the dog was off. The canine's body rested against the dragon's gut, squishing into the pudgy expanse as his hips pistoned into the dragon. Wet, loud claps and squelches filled the air, each rough thrust slammed the shaft against his sensitive walls, and he could feel the knot just barely pressing in with each thrust. The canine's balls slapped against his pudgy ass, the cheeks rippling beneath the force of each thrust as he cried out. The canine fastened his teeth around the dragon's neck, he could already feel himself growing close as the hot, clenching insides massaged his girth. Fire types boasting higher body temperatures always made short work of their partners, but as tired as Artie was, he didn't care that Aeir would soon be firing off. If anything, he just found himself growing more and more eager to be knotted. He got his wish moments later as, without warning, he felt that bulbous knot slam into his walls and balloon up. He groaned out as he felt warmth filling him in thick, gooey ropes of canine seed. He was surprised by how long his orgasm lasted, even with the knot securely tied in his depths, he could feel the excess drooling from his abused pucker, down along his tail until it pooled on the sheets.
After a while, Aeir could finally pull out, and grinned as a gush of his seed followed, drenching the base of Artie's tail. Artie gasped as he felt his hole empty, gaping to show the pearly white walls. Aeir simply flopped down against the dragon, resting his head on the pudgy gut, which supported his weight easily, squishing in around him. Artie grinned, giving a few scritches behind the canine's ears before he let himself fall into the warm hold of sleep, his mood remedied.