To Play the Game
So he sat in class, paying the minimal amount of attention. He kept his head in what he had conceived over the years as the perfect position. Paw on his face, obscuring half of it, while the other half was seen lazily peering into an open book. The best part about this whole façade was the look of concentration on his face. Even if the rest of him (The clucking tongue to seem like he was absorbing the professor's words, or the swishing tail to seem like he was working something out.) were seen through for the acts they were, the look was genuine, and completely infallible. His brow slightly furrowed, his lips 'pon his muzzle pursed as he mumbled unheard machinations to himself.
And because if this brilliant act, he was able to plan. Plan for the test he thought Mr. Brunswick just mentioned? Hell no, but for the night ahead. It was the weekend, and like all college furres he was ready for a weekend of all-out debauchery and generally lewd behavior. His was different though. While most of the classmates around him had planned (or would attempt) to go out with each other or even the opposite sex for that matter, he dreamed and premeditated for a night of something more. Not that a label would mean anything to him, but he was a bisexual. Of course, this term had very little meaning. True, he found some of the vixens around campus beautiful, and some downright hot, but sexually it was all about the guys. In his opinion, girls were just too easy. Maybe he was being sexist and stereotypical, but every girl he saw was flirting with someone, and they weren't any trouble to rope. Well, considering him they weren't so easy, but past experiences had confirmed he could get one, so no fun there. No, he was going to the local gay bar (The Twister) to play his almost ritualistic game. And that was something worth planning for, not this Pre-Law shit.
"Alex, perhaps you can enlighten Jerry here on the finer point of Witchel vs. Mahoney?"
Alex froze slightly and cursed in his mind as the drawling skunk's attention drew to him. Shit! The ultimate drawback! He got very good grades, so under normal circumstances he shouldn't have been called on. Of course, having a 3.8 (Fucking Calculus.) grade point average did mean that sometimes he would be used as an example when fellow classmates stunk somethin' fierce. He snapped up from his book, dispelling his so far construed plans for the evening. His mind instantly began to race, thinking of how best to handle it. A simple diversionary tactic or pretending he didn't know about the case file? No, that wouldn't work. This was his best class, and the teacher using their first names meant he still connected with the students somewhat, so he could see an attempt at weaseling out of the question a mile away. Even through his quick thought processes he chuckled inwardly. Weaseling, how appropriate. No, this would require more finesse. He made a very good act of straightening himself up as if he was thinking, and stole a quick glance at his well-hidden wristwatch. Still a half hour to go. Perfect amount of time. Not close enough to where this affair would be remembered when all was said and done, but definitely short enough to where the questions wouldn't be too probing.
"Witchel vs. Mahoney you say?" A simple buy for time, in and of itself. He clucked his tongue authentically, thinking hard. It was a simple case of armed robbery wasn't it? So why was it important? Aha! Even if he wasn't answering the question at all, his charisma could make up for lack of attention. "It was a case in which the armed robber, Kara Witchel, broke into the home of Derek Mahoney. She stole from him his entire collection of antique war artifacts, and when she was eventually captured, she ended up counter-suing Mr. Mahoney and won."
He was given a thoughtful nod, and it heartened him. He was definitely on the right track. Now to bring it all home. Giving his voice a less studious quality and now a more nonchalant one, he said with a chuckle, "Of course, she was able to sue him because she was his bastard daughter, whom he refused to pay child support for when she was young. The jury took pity on her for this, and she actually got to keep the trinkets, as well as have him pay all the back child support, which went to her because her mother was dead."
Although Alex was no canine, his bottlebrush tail swished back and forth in smug glee. The professor was nodding curtly to his answer (Even though he still didn't know what he answered), so he had won the game. Even though he could have been heavily reprimanded (This was a school were the teachers actually cared for their students welfare, go figure.) he was now seen as a brilliant scholar, and now he could go back to sinking into obscurity.
"That is completely correct Alex, never forget then my students, that even if..." the boring man trailed off into Alex's mind, and he reveled silently. He wanted to go back to planning what would probably be a perfect weekend, but he was too hyped up by his ruse to do so. Now all he could do was steal glances at his professor, and even Jerry, who almost screwed him over bad. Jerry was his dorm roommate and a complete homophobe, so he'd punish him later for his idiocy by acting as gay as possible and maybe even touching him lewdly. He thought deep down the grey wolf male liked it (which explained his phobia), but he left that for later. He was good at planning and conning people into his traps, but he wasn't a total looker, and if he wanted to turn him he'd need that quality too.
Didn't mean he couldn't fantasize about his ample cock though, which even in his loose pants showed through magnificently. Or his professor's package for that matter. Of course, his silent celebrations did end all too soon, as Professor Brunswick said enthusiastically, "Time to go students, have a good weekend, and study you hearts out!" This was met only laughter from everyone (even the skunk), for they all knew that wouldn't happen. Not if the rabble-rousing students had anything to say about it. As Alex gathered his materials and left, he thanked the higher power for his luck. This college was statewide acclaimed, but it was also a party school, which made for a party town. As he smiled with pride in himself, all he could think of was how much he realized he loved party towns.
It was always a disgustingly tedious process, even for him. He had to make himself change entirely. Go from boring and unnoticeable to what could only be described as the exact opposite. He hated preparation of any sort, and the only reason why he went through with it was because he knew how necessary it was.
He searched through his luggage and found two suitcases. One was deliciously drab, hinting to nothing but the life he lived while in school. The other though, oh no. The other was made of designer leather, from which his complete opposite sprung forth. Like the forces of yin and yang he began to shift seamlessly between personas, as if he was no longer even the Alex all his classmates knew. He didn't actively keep his bisexuality (or homosexuality if it really matters) a secret, but somehow it managed to stay that way, except for one person. Jerry of course, his probing roommate. And that is how he learned of his roomie's fears too. Although his roommate never spoke of the weasel's "Homoness" (probably because he didn't want to be associated with it) he never looked at him the same way again when he saw him prepare for one of his weekends a few months ago. He putting on his lady's undergarments, and then Jerry walked in, without even a knock. His eyes grew wide, and he simply said, "You're a faggot? Ughhh, I'm rooming' with a gay!" His tone was completely emotionless as he said it, as if he himself couldn't believe it. And with that, the wolf simply walked out.
Alex shook his head and growled at himself as he unlocked the leather traveling case. He had to think about tonight, and that memory only brought him down. Jerry and he couldn't have been called best friends, but they would still hang out together, until that day of course. Now all that they exchanged was a grunt, and maybe a "Can I borrow a pencil?" It peeved him that someone he liked, almost intimately for a brief moment, could be such a dumbass. No though, not tonight. A smile replaced his melancholy frown and he actually giggled. No, tonight he would play a different kind of game, and he'd be damned if he lost.
So he went back to his methodical changing. A pair of pink painties, and a pair of leather shorts, to show of his seemly legs. He notched his tail into the hole in back of the shorts, and he swished it as if testing his own mobility. He smiled anew as his tail went straight up, showing of his curved ass under the tight leather fabric. That would work just fine. He made sure only the tiniest part of his frilly underpants could be seen, just to tease. Ah, to tease, a passion in and of itself. Sure, getting his muzzle stuffed to the brim with a large cock and getting muzzle-fucked was a wonderful reward, but the real fun was in the game. As he put on his tight purple shirt, to show off his lithe body, and put the leather vest over it he thought about past weekends. Ahh, getting rammed over an over again right under the tail with no questions asked was good for some, but he loved to goad, and get attention. As he attached his gold nipple ring into his left pinkish area, and his three silver studs into his left ear, he thought about who he was looking for in a male tonight. He liked the ones who had something to prove, because they were great to tease, but he had a special taste in men, and they weren't it. The muscled, but suave type. Rare in purity, but definitely the most pleasurable. They knew how to play the game, and play it well. They knew their bodies made them hot shit, but they didn't walk around looking to fuck anything that moved. Unfortunately, they were getting harder to find nowadays, but he resolved that's all he'd settle for that night, and nothing else.
He went up to the tall mirror after applying his woman's deodorant and men's cologne (A wonderful combination. It made him seem submissive but showed he wasn't just going to spread his legs wide open.) and studied his weasel form. On his feet were sandals to show of their daintiness, and his powerful legs were accentuated perfectly by his tail curling between them, flaying about almost hypnotically. At his waist he showed off his tight butt, and his pants also showed off his crotch. It wasn't big, by any stretch. Just... normal really, and that suited him just fine. From there only the tiniest bit of dark belly fur was shown off, and he loved to show that off the most. He was completely average in almost every way, even after he made himself look slightly slutty. His fur though, for some unknown reason got dark on his belly instead of lighter, and the patched here and there of mixed beaver and weasel blood gave him an ever so slight hint of exotica. He stopped focusing on his torso and finally went to his face, dazzling himself with a practiced smile. It had taken him years to get it just right; mostly because his front buck-teeth didn't fit his tiny muzzle at all (Being beaver and weasel did have some drawbacks.). He got it down to look downright handsome though, albeit clumsy, so he felt better. He gave the air a quick snap with his paw digits, and turned to walk out. The preparations were done, so now there was only fun to be had.
As he walked down the blocks of the evening city, he smiled at the looks from men and women alike, even if they were looks of disgust. He took every head turn in stride, welling up with furious pride as he got closer to the Twister. He had worked hard for this, very hard indeed. His body was almost a nuisance to keep up with, because despite his underlying submissive behavior his genes wanted him to be big, strong, and stocky. He couldn't stop himself from growing tall, especially for what he appeared to be, but he did tone himself down to look like the fluid line of grace that he wanted himself to be. Weight training, although easiest, couldn't be done. He had to take up the martial arts to keep up this wonderfully sculpted body, and his incredible flexibility made Tae Kwon Doe an obvious choice for him. Plus, it made his legs sexier, which he of course couldn't argue with. No junk food either, which was the worst. He had an incredible sweet tooth, and one could never stay so thin dining only on donuts like he used to. He was blessed with a wonderful metabolism, but he couldn't be sexy, even with that. As he finally saw a look of just plain lust from a cocky fox, he knew he was more than ready for the night.
He looked at the neon rainbow sign and gave a sigh, psyching himself up. Entrance meant a lot too, so he couldn't just stomp in. He actually didn't want to be noticed at first. It put him at a general disadvantage when finding a good playmate, to be identified so quickly. As far as he was concerned this was his game, and he'd play it how he wanted. He got first choice. He flashed his new I.D., loving the precious look on the new bouncer's face when he realized he was old enough only by four months to enter. He could tell he might want a piece of him, maybe for later, and he logged that away. He loved the game, but he did love a good cocksucking too, and sometimes he just didn't feel like playing all that much. That's why the earth was given horny and deprived gay club bouncers. He finally entered after a quick scan of himself in the reflection of a puddle, trying to look as nondescript as possible.
The club was loud as usual, with people talking, music blaring, and just the general sounds of promiscuity ringing forth. It made him feel in the element, like this was his hunting ground, even if he wasn't a predator. He sat in an empty booth, sinking into the seat. His poor eyesight was a hinder, especially since he wasn't wearing his glasses. It made him genuinely clumsy though, something he could definitely use to his advantage. He saw many regulars, and of course even more fresh faces. He had no idea how such a city could dredge up new gay men every single weekend, but did it really matter? There were definitely some lookers out there, and some of them looked almost scandalously handsome, wearing the tightest of clothes, and some basically none at all. None drew his attention as of yet, but he was still happy with what he saw.
He couldn't help but look over to the bar with a bit of scorn, feeling a bit put off. There was always someone to play with there, but he was barely old enough to get in, let alone drink. Shrugging it off he went out silently to the dance floor, seeing the couples, the attention-grabbers (Which he basically was, but just more flirty.), and just the people dancing for the hell of it. Bringing himself next to one of the many poles that just sat in the middle of the dance floor, he began to hold it. Shaking out his limbs and putting on a mischievously smile he then began to twirl about it, wrapping up more of his body on it with each lap around the metal. Soon every limb and his thick tail were wrapped up in it, and he slid himself lazily off to the floor, doing the splits as he hit the ground. His shorts made an audible scrunching sound, heard aloud even in the crowded dance floor. Nice, he thought, fucking perfect even. That move always got at least some attention.
And it wasn't too long before some furres began to watch him. He didn't get a big crowd, just five or so guys, many of them obviously with the dominant mindset. This made him giggle as he played around the pole; it was good to be wanted so quickly. He looked each deeply in the face, though not for long, as his sensual movements obviously implied that he wasn't just here to be gawked at (Especially with those not oh-so-subtle pelvic thrusts. They made his intentions almost painfully obvious.) They all looked like they could be good bedfellows, at least to some degree, but that wasn't the point. Getting to that point was like an orgasm all its own.
Then he finally found him. He was a large, very good looking Siberian tiger, and the best part was that he wasn't gawking. He was one of those last category guys, mostly dancing to get a good scan of the crowd, but not wanting to seem a cheap slut. He was stealing quick glances at the dancing weasel, but never making eye contact. The only way he really knew was he could see him from the corner of his vision, and he could feel his gaze probe him, every so often. He hadn't even spoken to the male yet, but he knew he was perfect. He didn't make an outright move, but he was just interested enough to be a little less than inconspicuous in his looks.
So he kept the rhythm, clumsy as he was. Although that first couple of moves went with practiced grace, in reality he was an awful dancer. He moved akin to a wind-up toy in need of some oil. Luckily, he knew how to work this weakness too. For reasons he couldn't quite place, many saw him as cute (A fact made known after many of those who fucked him called him "Cute stuff".), and his clunky movements just made him even more so in his opinion. Like he was some sort of child, here for the first time. Not many took that act in full circle, but he hoped he could still make himself look a bit vulnerable.
He then started to get downright flirty. His tail would reach out and tickle males' noses as he swung around the pole, and he give masterful wink/giggle combos to any who made eye contact. Every spare second was spent staring at the male, however. He knew that handsome hunk of kitty was interested, and he wanted to know he was too. Then, after an almost agonizing amount of time, their eyes finally met. The stare that followed was almost palpable to those around him, and he could swear he heard that one husky staring at him growl as his harem of fans realized they'd go away with one less weasel tonight. This made him all the braver though, knowing he was wanted. It filled him with a petty validation that he used to walk slowly and seductively up to the tiger. His tail curled around his leg, and he reached out to take his paw in his.
"Let's dance."
It was all that was said, and he was leading him over to his pole. Despite their now noticeable desperation with not choosing them, his small crowd still hung around. Good. That would give him weight in the events coming up.
And so they danced, eyes never leaving each other's form. This was the tricky part. He wanted this tiger to take him, and hard too, but he couldn't let him know that. Seem too easy and he may just leave, and even if he didn't, that still wouldn't be fun. Their movements started to meld together in a dance that bordered on sexual, as they began to circle each other, their groins grinding with every pass, and both of them stealing a grope on the other's behind. Finally, he saw his chance to seal it and end the torturous dance. Their butts bumped for a split second, and in that brief moment his thick tail snaked around the tiger's, locking them together. As he caught a glance at his face, he saw an unmistakable smile, mixing lust with playfulness. He then broke it off and tugged on the big paw again, saying in a soft voice to him, "Let's stop. Getting' tired." The perfect line of course. It made him sound like he knew what he was doing, but it made him sound almost a little weak, like he was the prey he looked like.
In a flash they were sitting in a booth, and Alex could hardly contain himself. This wasn't the hardest part, but it was the most fun. Like a good game of chess, they sat there, both contemplating their prospective next moves. Alex moved first, he liked to get a pre-emptive strike.
"I haven't seen you before, have you been here before?" Clichéd line, but a classic starter. White pawn to E3.
The tiger gave a very bored shrug, and Alex almost shuddered with excitement. He watched the move and noticed how genuinely it was done, but the tiger made sure he wanted Alex to know he knew how to play.
"I've been here before, but not often." His tone was rich and deep, and that enough made his move for him. Black knight to F6.
Alex gave a little nod and swept his head about, shaking himself in a dirty flirt sort of way. "Oh, that's too bad. I'd love to show someone around on their first time here." His voice now carried a ditzy song to it, but his stare showed how watchful he really was. Juxtapositions worked so well. White bishop to E2.
The tiger who was still nameless gave a grin and leaned back, stretching out. Alex now felt as he was being watched from afar, like some animal on the plains. He loved that feeling, encouraged it in fact. It made him feel like he was being coveted, almost like he would be fought for. "You look way too young to even be here fella." A brilliant tactic. Truthful, but a compliment nonetheless. Black pawn to A5.
Alex blushed a little, some authentic and some an obvious act. He gave a dismissive wave of his paw and said nonchalantly, "Aww, you're just teasin' me sir." Sir. It provoked him to say his name and showed the tiger his bed position in one swift blow. White knight to H3.
The tiger clucked his tongue, looking deeply at him for a moment. His expression was very hard to read, and it put the weasel off-balance. Even being so caught off guard he couldn't shake off the fact that he was having the most fun ever in his life. This tiger knew what he was doing. Flashing a fang at him elegantly he said, "It's Angelo, by the way." Black rook to A6.
Alex was now a bit thrown off. A feint perhaps? He gave his name away readily, not asking his, leaving himself exposed, so to speak. Alex knew he'd lose some leeway if he took the chance, but it was too good to pass up. "Ahh, very exotic name Angelo. I like it. It fits you well." A hard hit, complimenting him and acting like he was the most unique thing he ever saw too. White bishop to A6.
Angelo must have seen this coming, because he pounced the moment he said it, like the predator he was born to be. "Aww, I'm just a simple man, liking simple pleasures though. Won't you tell me your name though cutie?" A devastating blow indeed. Alex didn't regret his move, but that took him down to a very vulnerable position. Black pawn to A6.
Alex blushed deeply, but it definitely worked in his favor. It made an excellent distraction while he formulated a new plan of attack. "Umm, I'm Alex Angelo. I mean, Angelo, I'm Alex." He was flustered as a broken-winged bird, and luckily it didn't interfere with his overall plans. Hopefully, it would actually work in his favor. White queen to F3.
The powerful tiger smiled wide, thinking he had him on the ropes, so he pressed on. He reached out and took the diminutive weasel paw in his own, rubbing on the paw digits. "What a nice little name Alex. So I bet you come here often huh? I mean, you lit up that stage." His strategy was almost too simple to read, he was getting careless. He wanted to simply fluster the submissive male into, well, submission of course. Black pawn to E5.
Alex was now working completely off instinct. This man was planning on ending this, and soon. He didn't mind being taken to the back and taken hard by him, but he wanted to be the one leading the way. He hoped he could guess his next move and made a relatively mundane one, mostly allowing the male to make the next power move. He nodded quickly and flashed a borderline slutty smile, saying softly, "Aww, you tease." White pawn to D3.
The tiger could tell he was trying to recover, but just didn't see where he was going, not just yet. He didn't want to lose the momentary upper paw though. He leaned close and ran a big finger over his cheek, speaking in a quiet tone, which you almost couldn't hear over the loud background noise. "Naw, I sure the hell am not. You were getting' some stares back there, weren't you cutie? And you know why too don't you?" He came close to going too far. He only held back because he didn't want to reach too far. He was trying to beat down his new charge, but he was still testing his endurance. Black knight to C6.
Alex could guess at what the tiger wanted to say, and he was sure it was just because he didn't want to offend. He'd been called a lot of stuff before though, and some labels he actually liked. So as he contemplated what he was aiming at he drew his own trap, trying to throw him off guard and make him think victory was clear. "I really don't Angelo. I mean, I've been told I'm hot, but..." He trailed off with just the right vibrato to his voice, making him now give off the air of a dirty tease. He wanted the tiger to just say it. White king to D1.
Angelo saw an opening, and took it quickly. He lifted up the musteline's chin and looked him right in the eye, then giving him a wink. "It's because you act like a cheap little flirt don't you? You like to get all that attention." He was feeding the weasel's fire he thought, trying to get him to break down, and lose his balance as he was unveiled. A familiar scent caught his nostrils from out of nowhere, and he chuckled slightly. Black bishop to B4.
The weasel found it best not to say much. He was afraid he'd give the tiger too much to work with, and he was afraid that he might just break down and go, "Yes yes! I am a little cheap slut!" He hadn't thought about it so far, because he was beside himself with joy, but he was getting a colossal hard-on from the tiger. He could smell it plain as day, which meant the tiger could probably too. That alone could be just a big enough screw-up to cost him the game. "Yea-yeah Angelo, I do. Still..." White pawn to D4.
The tiger had him going, he could see it. He stared in for the kill, just breaking him down piece by piece. "Still what cutie? You like attention, and I can give it my little cockslut." He bashed him from out of nowhere, taking a good chunk out of his defense. Such masterful vulgarity! Black pawn D4.
Alex gulped hard at the label, shivering a bit. That hit him hard, but he wasn't through yet. Things seemed to speed up considerably though, like time had taken nine double-shot lattes and went out of control. "Can you Angelo?" White knight to G5.
"I sure can my little slut. And I know you want me to too." Black Queen to E7.
Alex gulped even harder this time. "I-I do Angelo." His voice quivered. He was losing, and it was getting hard to focus. White knight to F7.
Angelo flashed a dazzling smile. He knew now he was weakening, and his prey would soon be his. "I know you do. I can see it right on that hot little muzzle of yours. You're licking your lips now, and I know what you want." Black queen to F7.
Alex didn't even realize he was. Dammit, he's just screwin with me now, trying' to throw me completely off balance until he can just finish me off! It was hard to resist though. This tiger must have more experience in the game then him, because he knew just how to set the horny weasel off. "What do I want Angelo? Ca-can you tell me?" Just like with Mr. Brunswick, trying to buy time. White queen to H3.
Angelo gave no quarter. He could smell his prey's need, so he knew he was almost there. A few more moves and he'd own the cute weasel. "You want my cock, plain and simple. You want to taste it." He reached forward and kissed Alex hard on the muzzle. Black knight to E5.
Alex could almost feel himself swoon. He swayed dangerously for a moment and said in careless reply. "I, I would like that Angelo. I'd like it a lot." He vaguely realized how outmatched he was, but he couldn't give up. Not yet. The powerful man's advances were getting too unpredictable though, even for him. White pawn to D4.
Angelo leaned close, almost losing himself in those words. He could hardly believe he easily he got him to say it. "If you want to, I'll let you blow me." Black knight to C6.
Alex's eyes went a little wide, he felt like he was losing his balance. "Really, you'd let me?" Every move was sporadic, completely unplanned. He wasn't even thinking anymore. White bishop to H6.
Angelo felt like he already had him. Time for the coup de grace. The teasing was soon about to become nothing more than begging. "You have to ask though, pretty please. I want to see that luscious muzzle beg for it." Black pawn to H6.
Alex nodded quickly, forgetting what he was doing for a moment. All he could think of was his massive boner, and how this male wanted to help him with it. "I will, I will Angelo." White rook to E1. Check.
The tiger actually frowned for a moment. His weasel friend was stalling slightly, even if he wasn't trying to. He'd fix that. His slender tail came out from where it had been well hidden and it danced across the shaking male's cheek. He reached forward and nibbled on the ear with the piercings, smoothing it out with his rough tongue. "Well, then what are you waiting for? Beg my little cockslut." Black queen to E7.
Alex nodded dutifully again, and he murred with ecstasy as the svelte tail rubbed across his face. Once again his own tail started a rhythmic thump against the seat cushions, matching the quickness of his heartbeat. "I want it badly Angelo. Real bad." White pawn to B3.
The tiger kept up, the smell of his young charge's lustiness almost filling his head. He kept cool, but reached a paw under the table, feeling the flustered boy's crotch. He smirked widely as he felt what could actually be described as a puddle leaking through the leather shorts, and when he reached under the pants he felt the panties the weasel prided himself on. Notching a digit under the waistband he said silkily, "What do you need cutie? Tell me what you need, and maybe I can help you too." Black queen to C5.
Alex couldn't help but meep loudly as he felt his package groped, and he thrusted slightly into the paw. "You'd do that for me? Ohh, thank you." It was evident that he was still trying to hold out, as pathetic as it was. Not just his willpower, but his whole body was weakening. His vision seemed hazy, his whole body crumbling as his hopes for conquest did. White queen to H4.
The proud predator started to get a bit peeved. Sure he had him in his grasp, but he kept resisting. He had to admire the weasel's adamant demeanor, but if anyone was going to win it would be Angelo, not Alex. "Come on slut, tell me. Tell me what you want, and I can help you paw off right here. We don't even have to move." Black knight to D4.
"Right here sir? Right in this booth?" White pawn to C4.
Angelo let that smug smile scrawl slowly onto his face. "Right here, I'll let you go down on me. So beg my cute little slut." Black queen to C4.
The arrogant teenager was swimming in the smell of the tiger's musk and his own need. The resulting concoction almost made him faint, as it engulfed all his senses at once. "I want your member, I want it really badly. I need it Angelo." White knight toD2.
All the pieces were falling in place for him. The tiger had him in his grasp; he just needed one last shove to tip the scales in the way of victory. "Then let's go my little slut. Come under the table here and blow me real good. I know you can, that cute mouth is made for fucking." Black knight to G4.
"Thanks Angelo. I will then, right now sir." Eager was the only way his voice could be described right then. It was the epitome of lust. His paw reached forward onto the shapely curves of the tiger, and he shuddered at the powerful muscles. White pawn to G3.
Angelo couldn't help but go beside himself with pride at those words. He cooed to the little exploring paws, knowing at least for tonight, he won them fair and square. "Right here then my little toy." Black rook to G8.
"Nah, I don't think so. I know a great room in the back though, let's go." White queen to E7.
He surprised even himself as he felt the words spring from his mouth. Then he releazed what brought him back. He was touching the tiger's bulge with an aching paw, and he noticed it was hard as a rock, aching to be set free. He sure masked it well, but the tiger wanted it every bit as much as he did, and that, that did it for him. It made him know how badly he was wanted, needed even, to pleasure the big tiger. How that buff thing needed him to play with. That incredible arrogance welled back within him, and although his head still swam he got right up, pulling his new mate for the night with him. They plodded off quickly to the back rooms, the tiger's mouth actually hanging agape. "Come on, let's go Angelo. This slut wants to taste some cock and he can't wait anymore."
Checkmate.
Epilogue:
Alex sauntered down the hall, pleased as punch. It was tough, and he almost didn't make it, but he won. He was outmatched, and inexperienced compared to that fucking drop-dead gorgeous tiger, but in a manner of speaking, he took him, and hard. This made the actual sex itself feel like heaven on earth, even if it was technically the tiger doing the fucking. He winced every so often as he rubbed his raw ass, and he felt his face as well to make sure he still didn't have feline seed all over it. He checked his watch as he arrived at his door. Humph, he left at 9:00 p.m. and it was 2:00 a.m. Where did the time go? He'd have some more fun tomorrow, but for now he needed sleep, and lots of it. He usually slept in one of the rooms at the club, but for some reason he wanted his shit excuse for a cot tonight. As he pushed open the door he saw something that he would have never believed, even then as he saw it. It was Jerry, and he was waiting. Was that what was weirdest? No, it was his look. It was the same the tiger had, the same lusty smirk that simply said "I'm going to take you my little weasel."
"I've been waiting for awhile." That way too cocky voice said. The wolf had an unmistakable smirk of triumph, like he just won the Nobel fucking Prize.
"Oh, you have been have you? For little old me?" He had no idea what was going on, and then he noticed the smell of alcohol wafting from the wolf. He was plastered.
"Yeah, you made me look like an idiot today, and you need to be punished." His voice did sound drunk, but somehow not a single syllable slurred.
"But I thought you hated faggots Jerry." I wanted to goad him, make sure this wasn't some unreal dream. Sure, he had the tiger's number in his pocket, but he sure the hell wouldn't need it if this was real.
"Nope nope nope." He got up and walked tipsily over, grinning wide. "I really like your cute little weasel ass."
Alex just shrugged. Maybe he was just so drunk that he thought Alex was a chick (Which could be possible due to his manner of dress.) or maybe he had secret feelings all along.
"Let's have some fun then shall we wolfie?"
And so the game began anew. Who knew what would happen in the morning? Maybe the weasel would finally have a steady boyfriend, or maybe his roomie would deny the whole thing, horrified by his actions. Either way, it didn't matter, because he was playing the game again. Win or lose, it was just the experience and what you learn from it. If you came out smarter and sexier than ever before, you've won in the end even if you didn't win the game itself. And that was where the real fun lied.