beautiful muzzle in front of me as he leans forward to kiss me again, tenderly. The passion is still there, the awareness of our unbroken intimate contact, but it’s restrained, exhausted.
“So you just made love to another guy,” the fox says to me. “Sounded like you liked it, too.”
I’m too mellow right now to be provoked. “Whatever,” I murmur.
“You done this before?”
I shake my head, and that seems to satisfy him. He kisses my nose. “Well, you were damn good. I’m gonna go clean up for a few minutes. If you’re not here when I get back… that’s okay. Just want you to remember this.”
Remember?! I tense again and can’t repress a moan as he slides off me, his rear squeezing my sensitive cock exquisitely and finally releasing me. My tail sweeps the bed contentedly.
He’s gone for a while, during which I trace the patterns of the water damage on his ceiling and drift off into a pleasant haze. I consider leaving, but the post-orgasmic bliss is too nice to ruin it with activity.
When he comes back, he’s wearing boxers and nothing else. I peer at him curiously. How could I have mistaken him for female? He’s walking differently, acting differently now that the secret is out. Tail still arched, but it’s not swinging as much; his hips don’t sway. It’s almost like he’s a different fox, like I was just fucking his sister. But his eyes are the same bright blue, and his smile is the same when he sees me on the bed, and this time it’s a genuine sweet smile, or else maybe my addled brain isn’t capable of seeing smugness. “Want to get that shirt off?” he says softly, and I nod. He helps me with that, wipes off my stomach and cock with a soft cloth, and put my boxers back on, and then says, “I don’t have anywhere else to sleep.”
I wave a paw, not caring. He slides into the bed and spoons back against me, that fluffy tail between us, my sheath pressed up against his rump. I let my arm flop across him because there doesn’t seem to be anywhere better for it to be. And then I’m asleep.
Five in the morning. I wake up from a dream that I just fucked another guy and find him next to me, his tail tickling my arm. Cold panic grabs me. I get out of bed without waking him up, find my clothes folded neatly next to the bed, and take off. I dress in the hallway and go down the stairs as lightly as I can.
Nobody else has to know, he said. My thoughts are in a whirl as I walk down three streets without seeing them, finally finding a landmark in the dim pre-dawn light and heading for my dorm.
Damn right nobody else has to know. If he tries coming around the team, blackmailing me… he better not mess with me. Or what if he comes around wanting more? Shit! I clutch my head in my paws. I’ll deal with that when it happens. I’ll tell him he’s got the wrong tiger. I’ll pretend not to recognize him. I’ll help my teammates beat the crap out of him. Well, no. A couple guys got kicked off the team last year for beating up some queer. Okay, so we’d make sure not to get caught, that’s all.
What the hell did he think he was doing, anyway? Didn’t he know I’d be furious? What if I’d taken a swing at him? I could’ve ripped his balls off right there. I could’ve broken his jaw. Little fucking fox, trying to put one over on the big stupid tiger. Well, just let him try again. Let him fucking try.
I stalk into the dorm, tail a-twitch, paws balled into fists. Five-twenty a.m. The ’roo at the desk recognizes me, doesn’t ask for ID. Good thing. I’d probably explode at him. I get back to the room and thank god Randy’s still asleep. The thick scent of his come in the room tells me he got a nice handjob, because I can smell the bitch, too. I throw myself down on my bed and try not to let the scent remind me of the fox.
To avoid Randy’s inevitable question about the fox, I pretend to be asleep when he gets up and gets dressed. But we have practice that day, and no matter how
“So you just made love to another guy,” the fox says to me. “Sounded like you liked it, too.”
I’m too mellow right now to be provoked. “Whatever,” I murmur.
“You done this before?”
I shake my head, and that seems to satisfy him. He kisses my nose. “Well, you were damn good. I’m gonna go clean up for a few minutes. If you’re not here when I get back… that’s okay. Just want you to remember this.”
Remember?! I tense again and can’t repress a moan as he slides off me, his rear squeezing my sensitive cock exquisitely and finally releasing me. My tail sweeps the bed contentedly.
He’s gone for a while, during which I trace the patterns of the water damage on his ceiling and drift off into a pleasant haze. I consider leaving, but the post-orgasmic bliss is too nice to ruin it with activity.
When he comes back, he’s wearing boxers and nothing else. I peer at him curiously. How could I have mistaken him for female? He’s walking differently, acting differently now that the secret is out. Tail still arched, but it’s not swinging as much; his hips don’t sway. It’s almost like he’s a different fox, like I was just fucking his sister. But his eyes are the same bright blue, and his smile is the same when he sees me on the bed, and this time it’s a genuine sweet smile, or else maybe my addled brain isn’t capable of seeing smugness. “Want to get that shirt off?” he says softly, and I nod. He helps me with that, wipes off my stomach and cock with a soft cloth, and put my boxers back on, and then says, “I don’t have anywhere else to sleep.”
I wave a paw, not caring. He slides into the bed and spoons back against me, that fluffy tail between us, my sheath pressed up against his rump. I let my arm flop across him because there doesn’t seem to be anywhere better for it to be. And then I’m asleep.
Five in the morning. I wake up from a dream that I just fucked another guy and find him next to me, his tail tickling my arm. Cold panic grabs me. I get out of bed without waking him up, find my clothes folded neatly next to the bed, and take off. I dress in the hallway and go down the stairs as lightly as I can.
Nobody else has to know, he said. My thoughts are in a whirl as I walk down three streets without seeing them, finally finding a landmark in the dim pre-dawn light and heading for my dorm.
Damn right nobody else has to know. If he tries coming around the team, blackmailing me… he better not mess with me. Or what if he comes around wanting more? Shit! I clutch my head in my paws. I’ll deal with that when it happens. I’ll tell him he’s got the wrong tiger. I’ll pretend not to recognize him. I’ll help my teammates beat the crap out of him. Well, no. A couple guys got kicked off the team last year for beating up some queer. Okay, so we’d make sure not to get caught, that’s all.
What the hell did he think he was doing, anyway? Didn’t he know I’d be furious? What if I’d taken a swing at him? I could’ve ripped his balls off right there. I could’ve broken his jaw. Little fucking fox, trying to put one over on the big stupid tiger. Well, just let him try again. Let him fucking try.
I stalk into the dorm, tail a-twitch, paws balled into fists. Five-twenty a.m. The ’roo at the desk recognizes me, doesn’t ask for ID. Good thing. I’d probably explode at him. I get back to the room and thank god Randy’s still asleep. The thick scent of his come in the room tells me he got a nice handjob, because I can smell the bitch, too. I throw myself down on my bed and try not to let the scent remind me of the fox.
To avoid Randy’s inevitable question about the fox, I pretend to be asleep when he gets up and gets dressed. But we have practice that day, and no matter how
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