FSE

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“Chad, I dare you,” my teammate snickered, “to do seven minutes in Heaven…with the gay kid!”

The challenge didn’t shock me, and neither did the fact I accepted it, looking directly in the eyes of my inebriated teammates. It was how casually blasé the ‘gay kid’, a flamboyant fox two-thirds my height named Kevin, shrugged his shoulders when asked by my cackling teammates if he’d help me out with the dare. I almost expected him to turn tail back to his group of girlfriends at the other corner of the packed house party. Then again, Kevin likely didn’t wanna leave after somehow getting invited.

It was our senior year of high school. I’d just helped win the March had turned into April. I couldn’t stop panting like a dehydrated raft survivors The weather was cool, but my sweltering wolfish fur made me want to shed all my clothes; letterman jacket, punk rock t-shirt, jeans and even undies. That would make me gay though.

Would it?

My group of friends and teammates cheered as they shoved me and Kevin into a hallway closet. The less-reluctant fox grinned nervously before grunting against my chest, and as I stared down into his bespectacled green eyes, the door promptly shut. The partying and laughter canceled out mostly into dull background noise. I could hear nothing but the fox’s breathing and my rapid heartbeats slamming against my chest. And his, since we were so close.

“So…you okay with this, Chad?” he whispered, trying not to sound as nervous as I was. “If you wanna back out, I can…pretend we made out.”

I sighed, ears folding and perking. “Nah. Let’s just…get it over with.”

“You’re shaking though,” Kevin pointed out. “I’ll get it if you’re nervous, but if you’re comfortable, I’m not gonna force you, and your friends shouldn’t either.”

Somehow, hearing the gay fox’s reassurances made me more…relaxed. My stiff back went slack, my broad shoulders became less rigid. My tail stopped curling like the knot tingling between my legs, which I tried ignoring at first, brushing it off as me not kissing a girl in weeks lately.

Kevin’s smaller paws cautiously held my arms, his fingers gripping the letterman jacket. I didn’t object, not there or when he guided me down to lean to his face, camouflaged in the darkness. I relented, wanting to get the dare over with, and to go back to partying.

At the very least, I thought to myself while leaning in, I’ll learn what’s got these gay guys so interested with kissing dudes instead of…woah!

Kevin’s vulpine tongue licked along my exposed teeth, his saliva sweeter than anything I’d ever tasted. Like masculine honey. Or a shot of strawberry and orange daiquiris, with the scent of fox musk I used to envy compared to my timber wolf scent.

Kevin moaned. I did too. And when my lips pressed against his, I suddenly growled in lust as I felt a hardening tent grow to full mast in my pants. My toes curled as one of our tails started thumping against a wall or the locked door. Somewhere outside, small decibels of loud rap music made it through out ears as they boomed with pulsing blood.

Our erections pressed painfully together, the fabric rubbing together. My leaking, ultra-hard wolf cock throbbed in-tune with our heartbeats, chests close together and fangs scraping as we feverishly descended into our private fog of lust. Kevin whimpered against my muzzle, and I did it back. His tongue danced and growled around mine, which turned into an orchestra when I placed my paw along his lower back, pulling the nerdy fox even closer.

A cold sweat tickled the back of my neck, followed by unexpected warmth beneath the ribs of my muscled chest. Something hypnotizing and delicious kept me from pulling my muzzle away from Kevin. He didn’t seem uncomfortable, neither was I. So far, I didn’t feel uncomfortable. If anything, the stirring up and along my grown shaft made me feel the opposite: desire. A desire to hump faster against the fox’s covered cock. A desire to bury it somewhere velvety and tight, like the fleshlight I bought on my eighteenth birthday in secret. It left me quivering, shivering, gasping, moaning and groaning. Each second enjoying Kevin’s dancing lips and sensual tongue was another second feeling like a daring explorer treading past unknown water, feeling intense fear, but also deep curiosity and lust I never felt before.

Neither of us spoke. We were addicted. I was addicted, to him, to feeling his canine erection throb against mine through our shorts, how his nostrils flared, the way he aggressively nibbled my lower lip, teased my pecs with his fingers through the opened jacket; the little gay fox knew how to please me more than any previous girlfriend. I couldn’t even stop tasting his vulpine tongue, it was that wild! He felt and tasted like an unlocked wet dream.

I thought back to the previous girl I’d made out with. I couldn’t help myself. Laurie was a beautiful, sexy she-wolf. She had boobs to drool for and an ass that made some of the male teachers secretly blush. Yet still, the contrasts were stark. Laurie didn’t take control in terms of kissing. The way she always passively kissed back, letting me take the lead all throughout a make out session, while Kevin actively dueled for dominance with my wet tongue and bruising lips, it sparked something in me.

Then, I realized at some point, Oh my God, am I…am I, like, bi?

Before I could answer it, a bright light burned away the rest of my clouded thoughts. Kevin pulled away, looking flushed and reluctant to do so. I couldn’t help but blush at the dozen or so pairs of shocked eyes staring at us from the opened closet door. A few visibly noticed our raging boners threatening to poke through our pants.

“Wow,” one of my teammates said, “I guess you win, Chad…”

Suddenly, my confused, agape muzzle curved into a slobbery grin. “Can we have some fuckin’ privacy?” I asked, and closed the door shut. It went dark again. As it did, I remembered the last thing I saw was the mischievous, happy gaze of Kevin as we leaned our lips back in.