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Possum Prison Pussy

Part 10: Day by Day

Sylva was taking what Checker’s said to heart, really trying to find ways to keep tabs on Lawrence that mattered. He didn’t think he’d be able to really find anything that the rest of the inner circle was able to, but the possum was uniquely positioned to be able to keep tabs on the pangolin being his bunk mate. It wasn’t so much a mystery why Magnus hadn’t told him to spy yet. The big elephant probably didn’t trust he could do it right, that he was just a bag of holes to be sold to the highest bidder, or really whoever had something he wanted.

But Sylva was tired of being treated like some side piece that Magnus only called upon when it was convenient or profitable. He wanted to have control, but he knew he couldn’t get something for nothing. Sure, they were all winning, but in the end, the deck was still stacked against him further than he liked. He didn’t want to just win in this hell hole, he wanted to thrive like Magnus, Sylva wanted to dominate like Checkers, and he wanted to be respected like Lawrence. And the only way he would be able to do any of that is if he found a way to get in better with Magnus.

Normally Sylva could charm his way into anyone’s pants, or at least wrap them around his finger after he wrapped his lips around their dick, but Magnus wasn’t a fool. Even the last time they fucked the big elephant called him out on every attempt to butter him up. It was almost like Magnus wanted to rip away his layers and find that scared little kid behind the act, and it terrified Sylva that any type of front he put up was nothing more than another sheet for Magnus to strip away for his amusement.

So, if Sylva wasn’t going to be able to sleep his way to the top, he would have to find another way. To be fair, his sex got him protection from a prison lord, so that’s nothing to scoff at, but it wasn’t much when your pussy was given a to-do list of clients to service. He didn’t even have control of who he slept with, and Checkers simply told him where and when to be. Magnus knew how to keep his bitches in line, never quite giving them the full picture and making sure they followed orders.

“Can you even really enjoy a movie?” Sylva asked as they sat in front of the old TV in the rec center.

“I can’t see what happens, but I get most of it,” Checkers stated. “What, don’t you like the movie?”

“It’s a little complicated for me,” Sylva admitted. “Of course your favorite damn movie would be based off a board game.”

“Clue is a classic,” Checkers smiled. “Besides, I want you to pay attention to a couple characters in particular that I think you can relate to.”

“Uh huh,” Sylva cocked a brow. “Somehow I knew you would make a movie into a teachable moment.”

“Oh come on, you can have fun and still learn something,” Checkers stated. “School House Rock? Conjunction Junction? Who doesn’t love that!?”

“Checkers, I know I’ve never asked this before, but how fucking old are you?” Sylva smirked.

“Oh shut up,” checkers swung his arm and lazily slapped Sylva’s chest. “What I want you to focus on is Miss Scarlet and Yvette.”

“Who’s Miss Scarlet and who’s Yvette?” Sylva was a little confused already about who the characters were. No one was really color coded like the pieces form the board game.

“The prostitute and the maid,” Checkers clarified.

“Wait, I thought the maid was Miss White…” Sylva was confused. The white piece in the board game was always the maid, right? “And why does the butler sound like Nigel Thornberry?”

“God help this generation,” Checkers sighed. “How do you not know who Tim Curry is?”

“Come on, there are so many characters,” Sylva complained. “And I’ve never heard of the cook in clue.”

“The board game doesn’t have a cook,” Checkers stated.

“Then why add them in. It doesn’t make sense,” Sylva furrowed his brow. “And Mister Body? What kind of name is that?”

“It’s a pseudonym to keep their identities a secret,” Checkers responded.

“But doesn’t the butler know who all of them are? What’s the point?”

“Please, just focus on Scarlet and Yvette,” Checkers tried to reel in Sylva.

“Wait, who are they again? What do they look like?”

“My god Sylva,” Checkers wove his hand in front of his face. “I don’t know what they look like! I’m blind!”

“Oh…then how do you know who they are?” Sylva was even more confused.

“Their voices are different and the sounds they make while moving are distinct—ya know what, Whispers, why don’t you help him.”

The great white leaned down from behind the couch and put his lips next to Sylva’s ear.

“Miss Scarlet is in the green velvet dress and Yvette is the French maid,” Whispers murmured in Sylva’s ear.

“Then who’s missis white?” Sylva was still stuck on the color coded pieces.

“The widow in black,” Whispers confirmed.

“Wait, there’s no black piece, is there?” Sylva tried to remember what the board game was like.

“Sylva, please, lock it in and enjoy the movie, and try an’ focus on Miss Scarlet and Yvette,” Checkers said before taking the remote and cranking up the volume.

“What, did they do it?” Sylva was greeted with silence as Checkers decided to simply ignore him and listen to the movie.

Sylva decided to keep his questions to himself. He wasn’t a fan of older movies. He could always tell the filming equipment was dated with the grainy texture of the images and the slightly yellow hew. He liked that it took place in a cool mansion and that there were secret passages, but he didn’t quite follow the plot of the movie. They all looked like they were just fumbling idiots who were trying to solve a murder before they all went down for it. Sylva thought it was both too smart and too stupid at the same time. He didn’t really get what was going on until the ending when the butler explained everything…

…until the butler explained the ending three different ways.

“Wait, there are three different endings? So what was the real ending?” Sylva asked as the credits started to roll.

“Whatever one you liked the best,” Checkers said. “They all work thematically, but I do love the ending where Missis Peacock was the one who done it.”

“That’s dumb, why the glasses lady?” Sylva decided to simply call the characters other things in his mind instead of trying to equate them to the board pieces. Missis Peacock had funky glasses and some strange feathery plumage in her up do hair. It also didn’t help that Missis Peacock was a kind of feline and not a bird. Glasses Lady simply fit her better in Sylva’s mind.

“Well, it’s because she was the most unassuming,” Checkers explained. “She seemed to be this frail older woman who was in way over her head, but she was really a badass mastermind. From the very beginning she acted like she was just some governor’s wife who simply got caught up in the show.”

“Yeah, I guess I didn’t see that coming…” Sylva pursed his lips. Truth be told, he didn’t see any of it coming. He was almost just as clueless at the end as he was at the beginning. “But wasn’t one of the endings with Miss Scarlet? What did you want me to learn from her?”

“Simple,” Checkers nodded. “Didn’t you see what they had on her for blackmail?”

“Well…she…she um…” Sylva was racking his brain. The dry, English-humor didn’t sit well with him. He was used to laugh tracks telling him when the punchline was, and it all happened so fast he wasn’t able to really get a good grip on what was a joke and what was plot.

“She ran a brothel,” Checkers didn’t feel like waiting anymore.

“I would have gotten there,” Sylva’s face burned red. He was glad Checkers couldn’t see it.

“Yeah, and hell would have frozen over,” Checkers chuckled. “But my point is that both Miss Scarlet and Yvette worked together to not only fleece men of their hard earned money, but they also got them to talk about their secrets.”

“So?” Sylva cocked a brow. He was waiting for Checkers to just help him out and give him the answer.

“So, how about we start doing homework,” Checkers lifted his hand and Whispers pulled something out from behind the couch and gave it to him. “I think you might benefit from trying to extract more than just cum from your clients.”

With that, Checkers slapped the object into Sylva’s chest. The possum took it and felt the spiral binding.

“A notebook?” Sylva scoffed. “What, you think anyone’s going to tell me anything? They all know I’m Magnus’s bitch.”

“Yeah, but they also underestimate you,” Checkers added. “Sexism is rampant in this place, and you can either let them beat you down with it, or you can use it to make them lower their guard.”

“Uh huh, and where does the journal come in?”

“To document everything that happens,” Checkers stated it like it was an obvious fact.

“Really? A sex journal?” Sylva cocked a brow. “Do you really think that’ll help?”

“Well, in the moment, do you think you can really commit to memory everything that happened?” Checkers asked.

“I mean, I won’t forget getting my skull fucked,” Sylva rolled his eyes, his expert teenage sass lost on the blind prison slut.

“What I mean, is how do you expect to give a report to Magnus if you don’t remember anything?” Checkers clarified. “If all you say is ‘he came and it was good’ to Magnus, then all you’ll get is a nod and a pat on the back. Here, just take the journal. It’ll help, trust me.”

“Really?” Sylva scoffed. “You can’t even write. How would you know if it helps?”

“Oh, I can write,” Checkers smiled and held up the metallic wrapper of the fruit by the foot. “And it’s in a language that only I know. Privatization Sylva, that’s the way of our society. Capitalize on the fact that you’re the only other person in that room with your client and see if you can get any knowledge from them.”

Sylva didn’t quite fully understand exactly what Checkers was saying, but he got the gist if it. The possum couldn’t control the clients he got, but he could see about getting something from them other than money and a bruised throat.

So, Sylva started keeping a journal of his sexual exploits. Checkers told him to write everything down and see if anything he remembered could be helpful down the road. Maybe the leopard might find a pattern or something with some of his clients. For now, he would trust and obey. Not like he had much else to do besides get railed and write.

Day One, Sylva was assigned Jamal, a rat with a fat chode for a dick. Jamal was a relatively fit guy, a few inches taller than Sylva himself, and had a massive set of balls. When Jamal pulled his pants down in the safe room, Sylva had to suppress a laugh at the disproportionate ratio of dick to balls he was seeing. That cock would hardly be able to gag him, and he wouldn’t be able to close a fist around it, but those balls were massive. Each one was like a papaya and churned with his essence.

“Get to it Sweet Cheeks,” Jamal gave Sylva a toothy grin as he pinned his shirt under his chin. “Show me what you got.”

Sylva gave Jamal a sly look before opening his muzzle and wrapping his lips around that chode. Jamal moaned like a desert-lost man finding an oasis. Sylva had sucked enough dicks by now to know when a cock was chaffed from masturbation. When all you got is your best-gall “Righty” to call on, you run the risk of being too rough on your junk. So Sylva took it slow at first, his tongue digging into his foreskin and slurping up the musk trapped in there, swirling his velvet tongue around that bright pink head before bobbing down.

Jamal wasn’t so large he needed to use his hands, so Sylva decided to give those big balls some love. Sylva brought his hands up to cup that sack, each nut filling out one hand completely as Jamal continued to moan and babble out nearly incoherent orders, but Sylva was already on top of it. His fingers ran over that taught sack, cupping each nut as he slowly bobbed before smoothly swirling his head over that fat nub of cock. Sylva brushed his soft thumbs over those nuts, lightly itching them with the back side of his nails, and made goosebumps roll over that sack.

“Oh fuck yeah skank! Suck that cock and play with my FUCKING NUTS!” Jamal’s toes were twitching, his voice cracking, his balls churning as he felt the warmth of effeminate touch once more. He had been chomping at the bit to get a crack at those legendary cheeks, but all he could afford was a blowjob, and fuck if it wasn’t the best blowjob of his life.

Sylva listened to what Jamal said, sucking faster, his mouth and lips slurping over that shaft while he rolled those nuts in his palms, his fingers expertly supporting and playing with those hefty orbs.

“Oh god! Oh-fucking-god-damn-hell!” Jamal rapidly started tapping on Sylva’s head for him to slow down, and he obeyed. The possum slowed his sucking to a crawl, his tongue slurping over that shaft while he looked up into the rat’s eyes.

“Oh fuck, I’m so close,” Jamal’s words were breathy, the tough guy act lost as he was teetering on the edge, each taste bud on Sylva’s tongue keeping him one good slurp away from paradise. “God damn I’m so close, oh shit.”

Sylva was surprised at the volume of precum he needed to gulp back, some of it dribbling out of the corners of his muzzle, but he managed. It wasn’t anything like Toothless’s output.

Jamal was reduced to a panting mess, his cock stuck in a blissful vice of ecstasy that paralyzed him. The rat’s mind was overwhelmed with the amount of pleasure coursing through his veins and the power he felt, and yet he was completely helpless when he looked down into Sylva’s violet eyes. They glittered with need, a desire to suck him dry, and he believed it.

Honestly, Sylva just wanted it to be over, but he knew how to keep a sexy face. They stayed in that limbo for nearly ten whole minutes. Sylva gently suckling on that shaft, slurping and keeping him on the edge, the pre getting saltier and muskier as it was tinged with the virile swimmers from those happy nuts.

As easy as it was to keep this client happy, Sylva had other work to do. Jamal murred, gently stroking Sylva’s head back and forth, bobbing on that knob.

“Oh fuck, you want that cum?” Jamal could barely crack an eye open, but he managed to see Sylva nod with Jamal’s dick head in his muzzle before slurping back down. It was a slow dance, a methodical two step that brought him closer and closer to the promised land.

Then, without warning Jamal gripped the back of Sylva’s skull and shoved the possum’s muzzle into his pubes. A little squeak came out of the rat’s mouth as his body tensed before his balls bounced. A thick torrent of cum welled up in the back of Sylva’s throat and he expertly slurped it down, gulping the warm, thick rat sludge.

And then it was over. Slyva peeled off that cock with a satisfied pop and opening his mouth while sticking out his tongue to show he took every last drop that Jamal had to offer.

Suffice to say, Jamal thoroughly enjoyed himself. Not that Sylva could talk too much or extract info from him when he was being skull fucked like that. The only real thing he got from that interaction was a good look at the sexy tattoo he had on his hip next to his nuts. He figured he’d doodle it into his journal. He was better with pictures than words anyway.

Day Two, Sylva was riding a weasel in a supply closet out by the yard. His nickname was Frenchie, though he had the thickest Hispanic accent that Sylva had ever heard, and that was coming from him. The weasel had a fairly average dick, and he didn’t do much but lay there, but at least he let Sylva take things at his pace.

“Come on baby, you know I get off when you get off,” Frenchie was a reoccurring client and it was true that he got off on how Sylva squirted, but he never really did anything to contribute to that orgasm. Currently they were laying back on the bin of basketballs and Sylva was being a good cowgirl, gyrating his hips down and taking that nice dick and rubbing his clit. Sylva bit his lip, the possum giving little whimpering murrs as he rode that cock.

Frenchie wasn’t a bad lover, just a lazy one. He at least let him get off, and this was no exception. Sylva was taking his time, really milking that bone in his depths, but more importantly he was trying to keep an eye on Lawrence from the supply closet window. He was just tall enough to see through and spy the old pangolin sunbathing while he watched the players place bets on the court.

“Come on, do something,” Sylva mumbled to himself.

“You distracted baby?” Frenchie asked. “What’s got your eye?”

“Oh…um…nothing,” Sylva tried to recover by giving a nice little gasp, grinding down on that cock as it rubbed the little love button sweet spot.

“Come on now baby, be real with your man Frenchie,” the weasel loved to refer to himself in the third person. Sylva didn’t know what his real name was, but the guy was proud of his stupid nickname. “What’s got you distracted?”

“Well…I was wondering about Lawrence,” Sylva started.

“That old fart?” Frenchie chuckled. “Don’t bother with him baby. Dude’s an asexual prude.”

“Asexual?” Sylva cocked his brow.

“Someone who don’t like to fuck,” Frenchie smiled.

Sylva had to suppress the snide comment that Frenchie must be asexual with the fact he doesn’t like to fuck and makes him do all the work. He didn’t know if this was useful information, but it best he keep it written down. It would explain why he never made a pass at him, or why he felt safe around him, at least sexually.

“Forget him,” Frenchie continued. “Get working on your lady nut, cuz Frenchie’s going to fill that pretty pussy up with his cream, baby.”

Sylva was worried it was worthless info, but he also had a job to do. He started to work that cock inside himself, rubbing his sweet spots and giving whorish moans and gasps. He was sure the guards could hear, but they were paid to ignore the noises in these places. Sylva simply worked his pussy on that dick, building up his pleasure like he was just riding a dildo that could talk.

Sylva’s pink nipples were hard, his pussy blushing and wetly popping with his fingers circling his clit. He edged himself on that hot cock until he felt the peak coming.

“Oh god, I’m going to cum,” Sylva moaned.

“Yeah, cum on Frenchie’s dick, baby,” the weasel gave him a cocky grin.

Sylva really milked the show, the pleasure not nearly equating to the facial expressions he gave or the way his muscles tensed up, but Frenchie believed it. Soon Sylva’s nectar was dripping down Frenchie’s balls as they bounced, the weasel whistling and giving a low growl as his dick dumped his seed nice and deep into that clenching pussy.

“Oh fuck, Frenchie loves the way that pussy milks his dick,” the weasel gave a little murr. They stayed like that for a moment, just enjoying the warmth and each other’s touch until their time was up.

Day Five, Sylva forgot to take notes after his rest day, but this entry was a big milestone for himself. This was the first time he was double penetrated. It wasn’t necessarily what the clients wanted, but they lost a bet and now they were going to have to fuck in the same time slot. It was early enough in the morning when Sylva was pulled off to the side by Whispers and brought to a safe room where a couple of familiar faces greeted him.

“Hey there Cheeks!” String Bean the meerkat smirked at him. “Long time no see.”

“Yo dog, look at you landing Magnus as a daddy on your first day,” Fruit-Loop hyped him up, the toucan had his shirt off already, his exposed chest lean and his plumage fluffy. “You think you’re better than us?”

Sylva felt an echo of fear from his first day and how these two cornered him. He hated how they made him feel. So helpless and exposed while bestowing him with the nickname he hated. He wanted to make them pay, but that wouldn’t be a Checkers approved mutual-winning move. Instead he decided to go the way of the cheeky bastard they expected of the possum.

“Jealous? You want me to arrange a night with Magnus where he can put your holes to the test?” Sylva murred, leaning forward and nuzzling up to Fruit-Loop, his hands running through the fluffy plumage on his chest. “Hey, didn’t you say you had a sweetheart on the outside?”

“Oh shit man,” String Bean chuckled. “The hoe’s got your number.”

“She said it’s okay,” Fruit-Loop’s face burned bright pink and he looked like he was about to push Sylva away. He needed to act fast to defuse the tension.

“Come on now baby,” Sylva smiled and pressed his lips against Fruit-Loop’s neck and gave it a tender kiss. “Why so tense? I’ll let you call me your sweetheart’s name if that helps.”

“Oh shit,” Fruit-Loop smirked. “You got the hots for me or somethin’? Well, you ain’t replacing Winnie, but damn, maybe I should have scooped you up before Magnus did.”

“Yeah, like Law would have let you,” String Bean chimed in.

“Lawrence tells you who you can have?” Sylva cocked his head.

“Nah! I can fuck whoever I want whenever I want,” Fruit-Loop was clearly lying with the way he refused eye contact with Sylva. “I just got to get permission from Winnie first.”

“Well, I ain’t got no one on the outside to worry about,” String Bean came closer, putting a hand on Sylva’s shoulder. “Why don’t you let me take the first crack at it.”

“Oh Beanie,” Sylva started, his tail wrapping around String Bean’s arm to pull him in closer, sandwiching himself between the two men. “I think there was a lost-bet element with this situation, wasn’t there?”

“Oh, come on now baby,” String Bean started. “How do you expect us to fuck you at the same time?”

“Well, from what I was told, you guys only had enough money between the two of you to split me for one session,” Sylva nuzzled into Fruit-Loop’s neck while he pushed his ass up against String Bean’s junk. “But you could only split the funds for a round with my ass and pussy. You bet a game of hoops on who got to go in the pink.”

“Yeah, but can’t we just both have our turn with you?” Fruit-Loop asked.

“Yeah, ain’t nobody got to know, right?” String Bean said nice and smooth.

“Hmmm…” Sylva had to think for a moment. “Well, I think we both know there are two people in this prison who we can’t keep secrets from no matter how hard we try. So, would you really want to risk Lawrence learning you welched on a bet?” Sylva breathed it warmly into Fruit-Loops neck, the Toucan tensing at the very real danger as Sylva took his tail and used it to cup String Bean’s muzzle so Sylva could look over his shoulder and lock one eye with him. “Or would you want to have Magnus learn you double dipped into his bitch’s pussy?”

Sylva could feel the sexual energy wilt around him from the tension.

“So,” Sylva continued. “Who was the lucky winner of my pussy?”

“M-Me,” String Bean muttered out.

“Still missing your shots Fruit-Loop?” Sylva turned around, pushing his ass against the toucan’s junk while grinding on String Bean’s.

“W-Whatever, I can get pussy when I get out, but Winnie don’t like ass stuff,” Fruit-Loop tried to justify bashfully.

“Oh, sure, like you’d give up pussy for ass,” String Bean shot at him.

“Nah dog, you don’t get it,” Fruit-Loop tried to push back. “When you’ve had enough pussy like I have, you crave another hole from time to time.”

“Ha! Ya so full o’ shit you’ eyes are brown,” String Bean spat.

“What did you just say—” the toucan stopped mid-sentence as Sylva dropped his pants, his warm cheeks bare against Fruit-Loop’s bulge, the possum’s pussy warming String Bean’s crotch.

“Boys, do you really want to spend your time fighting, or do you want to have some fun?” Sylva asked warmly. The two men looked at one another before nodding and ditching their pants.

String Bean’s dick was lightly barbed and was easily a good six inches while Fruit-Loop’s felt a little shorter but slightly wider. It took a little working and getting the right position to fit the two in at the same time. They ended up moving closer to one of the shelving racks so the meerkat and toucan could use it to support themselves while giving Sylva something other than their shoulders for leverage.

Sylva decided to start with Fruit-Loop, shifting his thick ass cheeks up to press them against the toucan’s junk.

“Hey Toucan Sam,” Sylva murred. “Spread those cheeks for me?”

“Fuck…” Fruit-Loop breathed out. “Don’t mind if I do.”

The bird’s feathery hands came up to grip each cheek, gently groping each one and making the bird blush as he spread those thick globes.

“Thanks big guy,” Sylva murred.

“No problem s-sweetheart,” Fruit-Loop was trying to play it cool, but he didn’t seem to have the confidence he had just a moment ago. Not that it mattered. Sylva had a job to do, and he wanted to do it well.

Sylva pushed his ass back, his pucker pressing against that cock, but before he let it in, he turned to String Bean, hooking one leg around his hip and pulling him forward so his dick was flush with his pussy. The barbs brushed his clit and caused the possum’s drooling snatch to glaze that dick in honey. String Bean had a bright red blush on his cheeks, his eyes flicking from Sylva’s to Fruit-Loop’s shoulder. They were both tongue tied and didn’t really know what to do.

“First time in a three way?” Sylva asked. It was his first time too, but they didn’t need to know that.

Neither of the men answered and Sylva had to suppress his laughter. He let it out as a soft chuckle, more sexy than mocking.

“Looks like we finally found the one thing that can shut you two up,” Sylva smirked.

“Hey!” They both started, but they were both silenced as Sylva gave a light murr and gyrated his hips. The two men quiet in anticipation of penetrating that bitch’s sweet holes.

“Come now boys,” Sylva murred. “I know we got off to a rocky start, but why don’t we start new.”

Sylva bit his lower lip before pushing back and angling that cock at the same time.

“Oh shit—oh shit…” Fruit-Loop gasped, his cock slipping past Sylva’s tight pucker. It was loose if he wanted it to be, but with all the exercises Magnus had him doing, he could tighten that pucker on command.

“Wait, you’re inside?” String Bean cocked a brow before gripping the base of his dick. “Hold on, I want in too—”

“Hey, Beanie,” Sylva put a finger on the meerkat’s lips to silence him. “I got you.”

Fruit-Loop gave a sound between a squawk and a choked moan as Sylva clenched his pucker around that dick to keep it in place while he lined up that dick with his pussy and slipped down.

“H-H-Holy shit,” String Bean gasped, his eyes rolling into the back of his skull as Sylva wrapped the short king in sexy silk. The possum could hardly believe he was scared of these two diffuses on his first day.

“We all feeling good?” Sylva murred, gripping the shelving and using it to slide up and down, his muscles flexing and milking both those cocks.

“Shit, this is so good,” Fruit-Loop moaned.

“Oh fuck yeah,” String Bean murred.

Sylva was so focused on their pleasure he almost forgot that this was his first three way too. He had never been double penetrated before, but now that he was moving, he felt his body warming up to the sensation. It was slow going at first until he got into a gentle rhythm. His pussy started to drool, his ass clenched, and he felt full. Not gut busting like with Magnus or Crux, but pleasantly stretched just the right amount where he didn’t need to get used to it and could just get right down to the nitty gritty. Sure as hell made his job easier.

“Oh fuck, I think I just felt you dude,” String Bean’s eyes got wider.

“Oh shit, I think so too,” Fruit-Loop huffed.

“Kind of hot making those head’s kiss inside me,” Sylva murred.

“But, they ain’t touching, right?” Fruit-Loop was obviously worried about being called gay.

“They ain’t touching dumb ass,” String Bean rolled his eyes. “We in two separate holes.”

“Yeah, no shit dude, I just…” Fruit-Loop was tongue tied as that ass gripped his cock.

“What? You worried it’s gay to feel a man’s dick when you both fucking the same chick?” String Bean gave Fruit-Loop a cocky grin. “If anything, it’s gay to fuck in the ass, ya winged fairy.”

“Oh shut up,” Fruit-Loop shot back, his hands coming to Sylva’s hips, only to bounce against String Bean’s fingers, recoiling and finding purchase higher. “Like you know shit about pleasing a woman. The longest relationship you’ve had is with your hand!”

“I know more than you,” String Bean snarled, his hands coming to grip Sylva’s ass cheeks and force him down on his cock.

“Guys,” Sylva grunted. “I can’t really get a good rhythm if you’re both trying to hold me down—”

“I bet I can fuck this bitch better than you,” String Bean snarled.

“I’ll do you one better, I bet I can fuck this skank better and make her squirt just by playing with her ass.”

“Guys, I need you to—” Sylva was cut off again as the air was knocked out of him by the two coming together, puffing up their chests against one another, but forgetting they had a third party.

String Bean snarled, his hips starting to move while Fruit-Loop widened his stance, their feet lightly touching each other’s before adjusting their stance to fuck. Sylva was trying to get a word in, but every time he tried, the wind was knocked out of him from the two posturing or more increasingly, he was forced to moan on those cocks as each one found their stride.

“See how she moans when I go like this, ass wipe!” Fruit-Loop growled, the sound like a guttural and angry coo. The toucan would then thrust forward, his hips smacking that ass and making Sylva grunt before being forced against String Bean, the meerkat’s bush grinding against his clit as his cock twitched in his depths, those barbs right against his g-spot.

“Yeah, I can feel how she clenches when you force her on my dick,” String Bean shot back cockily before adjusting to fuck up into Sylva’s pussy. “Feel how she clamps down when I go at her like that!”

Sylva was trying to get a word in edgewise, but he simply couldn’t. He was a prop, a piece of means no more sentient than a basketball on the court that these two could fight over. Sylva felt a bit of panic, but quickly realized he didn’t need to do hardly any work. The two were in the strangest pissing contest the possum had ever seen, both fucking him and saying they weren’t gay even though he was a cunt boy.

But FUCK if it wasn’t amazing!

Sylva felt the passion, the rage boiling between the two, and he was the arena they were fighting in for dominance. They were fighting over who was the bigger man, and Sylva was getting the blissful brunt of their sexual frustration. Sylva’s toes flexed, his tail swished and wrapped around Fruit-Loop while his arms slinked around String Bean’s neck. The two were hissing at each other, spit flying as they aggressively fucked their respectful hole while getting in each other’s face.

“You ain’t shit!”

“You ain’t nothing!”

The two would go back and forth, each time changing up their tactic of fucking. Sylva’s pussy would be railed hard, String Bean’s claws gripping Sylva’s thick cheeks and making them wider for Fruit-Loop to dig deeper. Their fucking would sometimes collide, their cocks brushing against one another as they pistoned in and out, and that would only make them more angry. It was like they would take turns jackhammering, first his pussy, then his ass, and sometimes rolling into one another in the middle as the two men had their way with him.

“Oh god!” Sylva screamed.

“See! I’m making her cum!” They shouted in unison. “Wait no! I AM!”

Sylva threw his head back as his pussy popped, the cock in his cunt fucking him through his orgasm and prolonging it, those barbs making sparks through the flames of pleasure. The two were fuming, fucking hard into his holes and making Sylva gasp, his tongue lulling out.

“FUCK!” Fruit-Loop cawed out before slamming home, his cock twitching.

“SHIT!” String Bean hissed as his hips went flush with Sylva’s pussy.

But then, when they were dumping their loads, their thick warm seed filling both his holes at the same time. Sylva heard something. The smacking of tongues in a passionate kiss. Sylva managed to steal a glance to the side, both String Bean and Fruit-Loop making out over his shoulder like the possum wasn’t even there. For a couple guys so worried about being called gay, they sure were gay as fuck.

“Fuck…” The two broke their kiss, neither one knowing what to say.

Sylva smirked before gently moving his hips, the two cocks inside him stiff and sensitive as he got them going into round two.

“You guys aren’t spent yet, are ya?” Sylva murred, moving his hips gently.

“I…I could go…again…if you want to…” Fruit-Loop mumbled.

“I…yeah…sounds good,” String Bean agreed.

The two would steal kisses from one another when they thought Sylva wasn’t paying attention, but he thought the two hooking up while inside him was unbelievably hot. Sylva wasn’t in the blackmail game, but his boss wasn’t above it.

Despite that though, he really wanted to document something else that he noticed. When they went to Lawrence to confirm that everything was “squared away,” Sylva noticed that Law had a different book. It wasn’t the same old journal he used, but one that looked like it was professionally bound.

Like something they would find in the library.