Easing The Need
There's really nothing special to say about this piece. I was awake a long time last night, and I was bloody horny, and I continued to be when I woke up far too early. This was the result, and I hope you all like it! And hey, if you want to see it in its Word Document format, check out my FA page as well!
- Fae
Easing The Need
The room was dark, absent of light. The moon was covered over, lost in a sea of cloud and the torrents of rain that fell from them. The door was open, but the rest of the house was as devoid of illumination as that one room was. Somewhere else in the house was a computer; the steady blink of its status lights the only glow in the near-empty building. The storm raged outside, and rain pelted the windows as a bolt of lightning lit up the world around it.
A deep, guttural grunt sounded in time with the flash of light from outside. It streamed in through the window and exploded through the room. It touched the dresser, one draw pulled open and left empty. It flowed across the bed, covered by sheets of verdant green. It reached the body of the fox sprawled across the bed, and the split second of light illuminated his paw as it raced down towards the engorged knot at the base of his malehood.
His back arched as he grunted again and again. His lithe, vulpine body writhed atop the sheets, long ago mussed by the motions of his form atop them. The fox's legs were spread wide as he rocked back and forth, and his ears were flat atop his head as he worked his fingers along his shaft with everything he had. His knees bent back as he lifted both legs, and a spark of pleasure raced through his length as he imaged what it was he really needed. The mental image of another male flashed into his mind like the illumination of the lightning; some male, any male, to take him.
His tired arms could barely continue to tease along his shaft as he felt his pleasure build anew. It was the ninth time that day â€" third since he'd climbed into bed â€" that he'd felt the need to relieve the pressure that threatened to overtake his body. And that was just the one day; in the four days since he'd felt his lust begin to bubble over, the fox had completely lost track of however many times he'd let himself go. He'd known he had stamina, but never in his life had he felt such need flow through him.
As his body tired, even the spark of inspiration in his mind wasn't enough to coax his orgasm closer. The muscles in his arms burned from his vigorous and numerous periods of self-pleasure, his thigh ached from the way he'd accidentally twisted it a couple hours earlier, and his tailhole twitched as he remembered the pain he'd felt at his attempt to take one of his bigger toys too fast. It wasn't as though the vulpine could help it, though; whatever had happened to him to set him in such a mood, it showed no sign of letting up. He was slaved to something he'd never felt before; a carnal, primal need that threatened to consume him if he spared it even the slightest thought.
His backside and malehood were both soaked and sticky, the bottle of lube he'd fished from the draw hours before emptied over the course of the night. On any other night he would have spoken with friends, watched some TV, played some video games, perhaps. He would have hung out with his roommate, or gone out to dinner, or maybe simply gotten himself an earlier night. He had no idea how much time had passed, in the conventional sense. He knew he'd drained himself twice, and attempted to roll over to sleep. He knew that sleep had refused to come, and that he had been snapped awake with frustration as his malehood remained needfully hard. And like a slave he'd given in, rolling obediently over to satiate himself once more as the rain began to drench the world.
But the flood of his seed refused to flow. He couldn't bring himself to the edge, let alone over it. His body was too tired to finish, but not so tired that he didn't need it. One of his paws slipped down to stroke and caress his orbs, rubbing up along his sheath as he slowed down the vigorous up-and-down motions of his other paw. The grunts of his exertion became whimpers as his legs dropped once more to the bed and bounced softly atop the mattress. Those legs spread as wide as they could as the fox groaned through his whimpers. Despair flooded his heart. He only wanted a little release so he could sleep, a respite from his torturous malehood.
The fox never even noticed his release enter the room. It slinked through the shadows towards the bed and shied back from the illumination of the lightning outside. So caught up in his self-pleasure, the vulpine hadn't heard the sound of the front door as it was effortlessly opened. He'd missed the creak of the floorboards as the intruder crept through the darkened home. But the fox had been seen, lit by the flashes outside by a silent observer in his doorway. And that observer drew slowly closer and closer, as the fox slowed his motions down more and more.
It was when the vulpine's paw finally stopped and slipped down to his thigh that the observer ceased to watch and took action. He rose from the side of the bed, and a grin spread across his face as he leaned up and over the fox's body. His paws both lifted, one over sprawled canine's body and the other across his legs, before he leaned up and over him slowly. The thunder rolled outside the window as he watched his prey's chest rise and fall rapidly, and his smile grew wider as he looked down over the silhouette of the fox's body.
That fox gasped and jerked in surprise as he found himself suddenly gripped. Arms wrapped around his middle and down over his legs abruptly, and the firm grip trapped his arms and legs as he tried to sit up. His muzzle opened to cry for help, for attention, for anyone. Instead, a little moan squeaked out from between his lips. His protest was muffled, stolen in the darkness by the sudden warmth that gripped his aching malehood. The particular damp heat that wrapped about his length was instantly recognizable to anyone who had experienced it previously, as the vulpine had; the assailant's lips had slid quickly down along every inch of that canine shaft.
His struggles against the shadowy figure continued until another bolt of lightning lit up the room. As the thunder cracked outside, the brief flash revealed the attack's face to the fox. It was the face of an otter, eyes lifted to stare through the dark at the vulpine's expression of surprise. It was his roommate whose muzzle slid down to his knot, it was his roommate's lips that pressed down around his length, it was his roommate's tongue that teased up and down his overworked malehood. He instantly relaxed again, and found that any argument he could have made was washed completely away by how good that wet warmth felt wrapped around him. After how hard he had tried to bring himself to his climax and how sore his muscles were, to surrender to another's efforts was the simplest, best choice.
And so he laid back and let the otter do as he pleased. He was too far gone, too much in need of his roommate's help to possibly turn him down at that point. Perhaps without that tongue curled about his tapered tip, or perhaps without the slight, gentle suckling that ran down to his knot, the fox might have been able to wave him away. Maybe he then could have told his roommate what was happening, why he was up so late, and why he'd been so reclusive lately. He could have perhaps explained why he hadn't wanted to go to the usual gay club a fifteen minute drive away, that he didn't want to pick someone up just because he was thinking with the wrong head. Despite his needs, the fox had held desperately to rational thought.
All of those thoughts evaporated as the otter guided him back towards his orgasm. The arms across the fox's chest and legs never let up as the otter worked his muzzle back and forth. His head tilted to the side as he kept his motions slow; he pushed down as he worked his tongue back and forth along the vulpine's shaft, only to draw back with a lewd, loud suckle or slurp. The sound easily reached the fox's ears, and he was surprised that it was so much louder than the rain that pelted the glass. Still the vulpine was restrained, bound beneath the otter as he was helped along.
The fox's pre began to drool out across the otter's tongue, and it was lapped quickly away. It was quickly replaced though, as the vulpine's body sensed the efforts of another male rather than the desperate efforts of its own paw. Hours of denial washed away in heartbeats as the otter slid smoothly up and down along that length of slick flesh. The fox became a writhing, moaning mess atop his sheets, a silhouette in the dark that bucked eagerly up against the equally shadowy figure beside his bed. Thought flew from his mind as relief pulsed deep inside his body.
His back arched as he squeezed tightly at his sheets, and the fox's muzzle flew open as he cried out in pleasure. With one hard throb of his malehood he felt all of his need flood from his body, pumped up with abandon into his roommate's waiting muzzle. The otter drew back to the tip of the canine shaft as he wrapped his fingers tightly around the fox's swollen knot, the grip enough to simulate a tie to the vulpine's hormone-drenched mind. Jets of his seed spurted against the roof of the otter's mouth, thick spurts that dripped down across his tongue as he suckled firmly. Not a drop was wasted.
And while the orgasm satisfied the fox's needs for the moment, it also drained him of what little energy he had left. His eyes drifted closed as his muzzle fell slack, and only his panting for breath kept him from sliding into unconsciousness. He shivered as he felt the otter's muzzle slip up and off his length, and a little moan emerged from between his lips as he thought he caught the sound of his roommate licking his lips. He tried to lift his head, tried to offer his thanks and explain why he had been in the situation that he had been, but the feel of the otter's weight as it shifted across the bed silenced those words before they could even be spoken.
The reason for the otter's movement was immediately apparent. He moved decisively in between the vulpine's legs and, with one smooth motion of his arms, lifted them both up high. The fox yipped as he found himself snapped awake by the speed of the movement, but even as he wriggled back to slide away from his roommate he understood. That understanding came in the sensation of a hard, pre-slicked length of flesh that pressed against his exposed backside, and had the room been lit it would have been hard for the fox to hide his blush from his roommate.
It was as hard to resist the allure of that shaft as it was to pull free from the otter's grip. The fox's struggle ceased as soon as he felt that warm length press against his rump, and he relaxed and moaned quietly as he found himself pressing gently back down against it. His hidden blush grew brighter as he laid his ears back, leg muscles tightening as he tried to draw the otter down and closer to him. It was a wordless signal, communication without words. It simply said, "You're in charge. You've got me. You can do what you want with me."
The otter was hardly about to miss the message, or misinterpret it. He knew the fox well enough to know what it meant. One of his paws released the fox's leg and shifted instead to his malehood, and he squeezed it tightly as he guided it up to firmly press against the vulpine's tailhole. He ground against it for a moment, smearing his pre up and down the cleft of his rump as he smiled. He could tell that the fox had played with some of his toys; the way he'd had to pull back as he pressed in gently had been enough evidence of that. Had he not pulled away, he might have simply sunk into the fox's body. Still he held himself back, drawing his tip about that lubed, stretched tailring in a lazy circle as he teased the vulpine beneath him.
That vulpine whimpered and moaned quietly as his hips bucked back firmly in an attempt to feel the otter push into him. But his roommate's reflexes were faster than the fox's tired body, and every time he would pull back just enough that only the barest hint of his malehood would tease its way past that loosened ring of muscle. His whimpers became frustrated groans as he pushed back again and again, desperate to feel himself filled up. His malehood, so recently spent, pulsed and throbbed in the air above his chest. Fresh pre had begun to trickle from the tip; it was ready to go again, even if the fox himself wasn't quite sure if the rest of him was.
His whole body shuddered though as he felt the otter relent and release him. In the middle of a hard buck back in an effort to feel his roommate enter him, the sudden lack of resistance led to his body swallowing up every last inch of the otter's shaft. His cry of surprise melted into a deep moan of pleasure that mingled with the otter's. Immediately he squeezed down tightly with his inner muscles, intent on not letting that length slip free right away. It was smaller than the big toy he'd tried to take earlier in the night, a little shorter and not nearly as thick. It was much more normal sized, and after the pain he'd felt when he'd vigorously pumped the toy into his tailhole the fox was almost relieved with the way the otter felt inside him.
Even if he couldn't bring himself to pull out though, the otter was more than content to enjoy the feel of the fox's muscles as they squeezed down tighter around him. His hips ground against his roommate's upturned backside, and he murred quietly to himself as he grinned down at the shadow splayed out beneath him. A steady trickle of his pre began to drip out of his malehood, adding to the lube that remained inside the fox's body. He gave the fox no real time to get used to his smaller girth before he started to move his hips, his malehood pulled back from those clenching muscles only to be pushed hard back through them.
That first thrust ripped a fresh moan from the vulpine's muzzle, as he relaxed further and gave the otter all the control of his body that he could need. He'd not expected to be taken by anyone that night, and as he'd scaled up his toys in his quest to satisfy his insatiable need he'd never considered going back down a size. The otter's length slipped easily back and forth inside him, even when he squeezed down snugly around it. A submissive little thrill wound its way through his body and sent a shiver up his spine as he realized that he probably couldn't stop the otter from doing whatever he pleased in his position. The moment the otter had crawled up onto the bed, he'd surrendered all his rights to resist. He moaned anew as that thought entered his mind, and all but his inner muscles relaxed as he gave himself over completely to his roommate's motions.
Those motions came hard and fast, as he leaned up and over the fox's body. The otter's hips slammed hard against his roommate's backside as he drove his malehood down as deep as he could go into the vulpine. He didn't reach as far as he could feel the fox's toys had; he remained relatively loose from his earlier play right down as far as the otter could reach. He didn't mind in the slightest, though. It simply made it easier for him to pound away at the fox's backside with all the strength and speed he had, and he held nothing back. The grunts and moans of the fox drowned out the slap of the otter's hips against his backside and the rain that pelted the window.
The thunder rolled outside as bolts of lightning lit the room in strobes, briefly exposing one to the other. In one flash, the fox's back was arched and his lips parted in the middle of a cry of pleasure. In another, the otter's fingertips dug deeply into his roommate's hip as he pulled him up into an especially hard thrust. In yet another, their lips had met in between their bodies in an impassioned kiss even as the otter's hips continued to jackhammer down into the squeezing fox's body. Their tongues danced together as they held each other tightly, the vulpine's moans muted by the embrace of their lips.
Those stifled moans were transformed into a surprised yip as the kiss was broken. The otter's arms wrapped tightly around the fox's body and pulled him back with him. As the otter's back rested against the bed, the fox was pulled firmly up atop him. His backside was yanked down hard as the otter hilted himself up inside the fox's body, to keep him in place as he spread his legs with a grin. His head rested at the edge of the bed and his paws drifted down to the fox's hips, and he squeezed them tightly as he ground himself up hard against his roommate's backside.
The surprise of the sudden shift faded quickly away from the vulpine's mind as he felt that hard length of flesh buried in him shift against his inner walls. He wriggled about slowly as he brought his knees down to either side of the otter's hips, and a grin spread across his own face as he wriggled his hips down over his roommate's length. The appreciative moan he received was all the encouragement the fox needed, and he immediately began to roll his hips up and down along the otter's shaft. He squeezed down as tightly as he could, though his muscles twitched each time he drew himself back up along that length. The tip of the otter's shaft always ground right up against that special little spot inside him as he moved, and without it fail it drew a deep moan from between his lips each and every time.
It hardly helped the fox catch his breath when the otter began to hump up in time with those smooth rolls of his hips. As the vulpine pushed himself back down, he felt his roommate's shaft drive up into him hard and deep. It ground against his inner walls and sent sparks of pleasure through his body. Then he drew back, length pressed against the fox's prostate, and his breath was stolen from his lungs once again. On and on it repeated, faster and faster. The fox could barely catch his breath between thrusts, but between the otter's efforts and simple male biology he found himself becoming light-headed.
He didn't stop, though. Rather he sped up, pushing down and drawing back faster than before. His tiredness was gone, replaced with vigor born of sexual desire. His body drew on hidden reserves as he felt himself filled again and again by the otter's thrusts, and his heavy pants for breath between his moans stifled the sounds he truly wanted to make. He wanted to cry out, to scream in pleasure, to shake the walls with his moans. All he could manage though were breathless whimpers as he rose and fell along the otter's malehood, pushing it as deep within his body as it could go.
His own shaft bounced forgotten on the otter's stomach, the fur beneath it slick with the pre that drooled out from his tip like a broken faucet. Again and again the fox moved to grasp at it, to give it a little stroke and squeeze so he could tip himself into another climax. The otter refused him though; as soon as he made an attempt for his malehood, those webbed paws were there. They batted the vulpine's fingers away, grasping at his paws tightly and planting them on the fox's hips. The otter held them there as he guided his roommate up and down along his shaft, his hips twitching upwards harder as he drove himself again and again into the fox. The message was clear: "I tell you when to cum."
Another whimper escaped from the fox as he pushed himself down harder and faster along the otter's malehood. The torture he'd experienced all day, all night, all week, had returned by the otter's efforts. He couldn't find his release; it lurked at the edges of his awareness, like he could see it out of the corner of his eye. His whole body shook and twitched with pleasure as he rode the otter's length, pushed it deep into his body and squeezed it tightly. He moaned as he felt that shaft grind against his inner walls and across his prostate. And he whimpered yet again, as he still could not bring himself over the edge. He was as trapped as he had been before the otter entered the room, but with the added torture of a hot, slick piece of flesh ramming his backside all the while. It was all he could do to keep moving.
He couldn't stop, though. The otter saw to that. Whenever the roll of the fox's hips slowed down, he was there to thrust up harder and faster to compensate for it. His grip kept the vulpine's paws bound, and his tiredness prevented any resistance to the tight grasp. The pleasure that flowed through his body like a river of fire kept him from tiredness, from ache, from over-exertion. It kept him awake, ready and eager to go. It kept his malehood hard, it kept him leaking his pre out across the otter's stomach, and it kept him whimpering wordlessly as he begged for more. For just enough to tip him over.
And yet the otter refused him, again and again. In the flashes of lightning his face could be seen, smiling in one instance and scrunched in concentration and bliss in the next. His own body trembled as he kept the fox on the edge, the sensations that flooded his body almost too much for him to bear. He kept himself rigid though, his every muscle taut as he fought back his climax to deny the fox his own for just a little bit longer. Those whimpers and moans, the eagerness with which he fought to reach his peak only spurred the otter on more and more. The scent of their act filled the room like a fog, filling their nostrils and drenching everything around with the unique scent of males in heat. It dominated every other scent in the room, a heady, teasing miasma that drowned out everything and drove their needs to greater heights.
It was the fox's ability to at last articulate a proper beg that broke the otter's control. The breathy words were punctuated by moans and pants and whimpers and groans, but they reached the otter's ears even over the sound of their passion. It mixed with the air and the squeezing muscles and the heat of the vulpine's body as he felt his climax rush up to meet him, and in the last moment before he let himself go he released the fox's paws at last. His own paws squeezed tightly at the fox's sides as he drove himself up and inside the vulpine as deep as he could go, his length grinding hard against that sensitive spot as his seed spilled up and out of his malehood.
The very instant the grip on his paws was released, the fox wrapped his fingers around his malehood and squeezed tightly. He moaned out loud as he felt the otter grind against his backside, and his hilted length shifted against the vulpine's inner walls as he brought his other paw down quickly to his knot. He squeezed it tightly as he squeezed his eyes shut, and relief washed over him anew as he felt himself thrown far, far over the edge of control. His inner muscles twitched and clenched around the otter's malehood, and he milked that shaft dry even as he drained himself anew. There were no spurts of his seed, no thick, voluminous shots that soaked over the otter's body. There was a trickle a little thicker than his pre that drooled in pulses from his tip down onto the otter's stomach, as he ground himself hard down against his roommate's lap. His hips swayed side to side as he heard the otter's groans of pleasure, and even as he clenched down as tight as he could he still felt a little trickle of the otter's seed as it leaked out of his well-stretched tailhole.
Their grunts and groans continued for a few more moments, for the fox as he felt himself filled up by the otter's seed and for the otter as he filled the fox up. The fox was the first to silence himself, save for his deep, loud pants for breath. He slumped forward over the otter, backside still firmly planted in his roommate's cum-soaked lap as he sighed quietly. His malehood was still hard, but he was a fox. It was to be expected. His fingers loosened their grip on his shaft and his knot as he looked down through the shadows into the otter's face. Almost immediately, he froze. His ears tipped back as a flash of lightning illuminated that face beneath him, and he whimpered anew.
That brief flash burned the image of the otter's cheeky grin into the fox's vision for a few moments. It lingered as he felt the otter's paws grip his hips again, and he gasped as he felt his roommate begin to grind up against him once more. The otter was still hard and, ignorant of the fox's predicament, he wanted to go again. As the otter began to thrust up into the sticky, seed-drenched passage of the vulpine, he remembered how the otter told him he usually went three times in one night. That had only been the first.
The faintest ghost of the fox's need drifted back into his mind. His malehood ached, his orbs were dry and sore, and his body was tired... but the insistent thrusts of the otter brought his sated need back to the front of his mind. As it rapidly moved to dominate his body again, the fox sighed through one final whimper. It was going to be a long, sticky night.
And there we go. It feels good to get that out of my system. Comments are encouraged, Cums are awesome, and please score and fav if you really liked the story. My work reflects me, and I need you to like me! Liiiiiiiiike meeeeeeee!
Are you a writer? Are you having troubles? OBLIGATORY LINK WITH CAPSLOCK! In my journal, you'll find a few little guides that cover problems some writers I know suffer with writing. Maybe you'll find an answer or some encouragement there. Check it out, here!
And as ever, I hope you enjoyed the story! Take care, furballs!