Regrets
Regrets
by pyrostinger
Inspired by a picture by Aaron/PsychoRam
Jeff flinched, his ears going back for a moment before he turned them back toward the dragon. Everything about this screamed sketchy. The lights were low, the only light streaming in from the full moon outside. The apartment he had come to was at the edge of campus, and facing the woods. He was very unsettled, and yet... he had to do this. Trying to keep his face as neutral as possible, he let out a soft breath, tugging up his camouflage tank top and tugging down his underwear; some jockstrap thing that had been requested. He was feeling a little better that he didn't have to wear that anymore, but under it was hardly better.
The rottweiler was hard. He wasn't quite sure why or how, but something about this whole thing was turning him on. Maybe he had some kinda creep fetish. Well, it couldn't be any worse than the guy who was staring at him, whose eyes seemed to cut out of the shadow he kept himself in, though his draconic shape was very much evident. "Good, good," he heard the dragon mutter, shifting slightly to spread his legs. "Very nice..."
Jeff turned his head, then looked back at the dragon. "Look, this is the most that I have to do, right?" His hands paused on his body, feeling more naked than ever before with just one nipple exposed. He had heard about the dragon's appetites, but it usually just went to young guys stripping down and posing for him. Right?
The rottweiler's question was met with short laughter. He heard the bedsprings shift as the muzzle of the dragon was pushed into the light, the golden face split in a grin and shaking its head. "No kid... we still have a lotta other stuff to get into. Now then," and a hand extended, turned up and closed into a fist aside from one finger, beckoning. "Lose the underwear and get on the bed, heh heh..."
The second thoughts Jeff had been having seemed to multiply rapidly.
* * *
"Wait, what?"
"Look, it's simple," said the frumpy rabbit behind the desk. She turned her monitor toward Jeff, pointing out the figures on the screen. "This is the money you've paid. This is the money you owe. Unless we get that money in two days, we're gonna hafta start eviction procedures.
"No, no, no, no, no," Jeff said again, shaking his head. "I paid that money. I'm good!"
The rabbit sighed, then leaned toward the rottweiler again. "Look... Jeff, right?" A quick glance at the screen confirmed his name. "Jeff. You're probably a smart kid. And I know that you probably had the money on you. But the fact is we didn't get it. Now trust me, I sympathize. You have options, here. If you don't got the money, go talk to financial aid, they might be able to help you cover the balance with a loan or something. I am going to personally see if I can pull some strings on this end but that's not guaranteed and you only got two days." She sat back and spread her arms. "I'm gonna let you know right now that the most I can probably do is get you an extension on the payment. If you can get that money, then we're fine, and you can go back to school for the new semester no problem. Just see if you can take care of that, alright?"
Jeff frowned, looking down as he nodded. "Yeah, yeah... thanks a lot."
The rabbit smiled. "I'm sure a smart kid like you can come up with a couple hundred in a few days, right?"
As he left the billing office, Jeff swore silently to himself. His bank account was empty; he checked twice online and once at the bank itself. The last $50 he had slipped away when the Minutemen pulled a last second upset over the Buffaloes, and Jeff was kicking himself for betting against his favorite team. He was out of cash. When he got back to his dorm, he rifled through his pockets for something, anything, coming up with pocket change amounting to about a buck. Going through his pockets again, he stopped, finding a business card. On the back was scrawled the message "If you're ever short on cash, call me." Flipping it over, he saw the college's logo, and Mr. Eradeen White, Ethics Professor, as well as a number. He hesitated.
When the phone started ringing, he hesitated further. He was about to hang up when he heard a voice. "This is Eradeen White. Can I help you?" The voice was smooth, almost comforting. It seemed to lure him in further. "Hello?" said the voice again after a few seconds of silence.
"Yeah. Um. Hi, Professor White." The rottweiler scratched the back of his head as he started to pace with his cell phone in hand. "It's Jeff. Jeff Eisenburg?"
"Oh Jeff!" The voice took an undercurrent of pleasure, gaining a warmth that was absent from the pleasant greeting. "Mr. Eisenburg... How good of you to call me. How can I help you?"
"I'm uh. I'm a little short on money." At the last moment, he threw in "For school."
"Is that so?" Even if he couldn't see Mr. White's face, he knew that some kind of grin was on it. "I think I can help you."
* * *
Keeping his face as neutral as he could, Jeff sat on the bed next to the golden dragon, flicking his eyes to him briefly. It was obvious that Professor White took care of himself; he sat shirtless, with his scales molded around his muscles, looking almost like a body builder in his own right. As for Jeff, he kept himself well, though it was more a hobby than anything else. Still, the hobby, and competition he sometimes had with the guys had produced a body that was fairly devoid of fat despite his casual nature toward it. The rottweiler had to admit to himself that he did find other muscled bodies appealing, but this whole thing had him so far out of his depth that he was acting a whole lot shyer than he normally would. It didn't help that his erection barely flagged in the moments he sat there, waiting for Professor White to say something.
Eventually, some kind of sound did get to his ears. The shifting of cloth, those same clothes dropping to the floor. Pants, Jeff saw. He rubbed over his arm and the anchor tattoo he got one wild night. There was a little snap, making the rottie jump, his eyes flicking over. He saw the dragon's drooling dick, and a hand squeezing the base before stroking. The sound started like a dry rubbing, and it seemed to get smoother as time passed. Turning to speak, he saw the dragon's eyes boring into him, desirous. His tongue had just finished a circuit of licking his lips, and it slipped back into his mouth. It took Jeff a moment before he could recover. "I--"
"You don't have to do anything else, Jeff." The dragon's smooth baritone made things at once calming and unnerving. "But just know that the more you do, the more money you earn."
Which brought to mind another question. "How much--"
"$25."
Jeff looked away, because he knew he was tempted to look downwards. And neither the professor's nor his own erection would make him feel terribly comfortable right now. "What--"
"Come over here and give my dick a lick."
Looking down, as much as he didn't want to, he saw that the dragon had stopped jerking himself, content to grip around his base and wait. The fact still remained that Jeff knew he needed the money. Bracing himself, he crawled closer. The dragon's musk hit him stronger here, and he felt his body react of it's own accord. There was now a dribble of pre on the bed, streaked. If the professor notice, he didn't give any indication, and the rottie closed the distance.
Up close, the dick... well, it wasn't so imposing. Maybe. It was an ebon black quite like his own bits and matching the dragon's tongue. The first thought that came to Jeff's mind when he gave it a good look was sleek. Against his better judgment Jeff found himself liking the cock on some level. Shaking his head briefly, he closed his eyes, leaned forward, and gave it a quick lick.
The taste, well... it seemed like a concentrated version of the musk. The rottweiler swallowed it down, conscious of the exact path down his throat that little taste took before it landed in his stomach. It wasn't... bad. Not wanting to think more about it, he looked up at Professor White's face. The dragon was grinning, still. "Keep going..." he urged, and Jeff bit the bullet, giving it a longer lick, then one longer still.
He tried to focus on breathing through his nose. He tried to focus on sports, something, anything other than the taste and smell of the dragon's shaft, one he continued to subject himself to. He couldn't deny that he was growing to like this, nor could he deny that he had a warm feeling spreading through him at this simple action. What the warm feeling was, he refused to identify, though his body told him as he was kept aware of how hard he was, and the fact that his length continued to drip onto the bed sheets. But it couldn't be! He was straight, right? Had to be, had to be! It just wasn't him... plus he wouldn't hear the end of it from the guys!
Jeff's thoughts were derailed when he felt the dragon's hand settle on his head, directing his muzzle over his shaft, and pushing him down on it. Professor White's dick was going into his mouth. It was going into his mouth! The rottie uttered a grunt of surprise, followed by a second as the dragon tail wrapped around his leg, pulling it closer. "Easy does it," came the calm voice, even though Jeff was feeling anything but with how things were accelerating. He couldn't help that his shaft twitched further, and he wasn't even touching it! His heart was beating loudly, and he couldn't think. All he could see was the dragon's muscled stomach, and if he looked up he saw his muzzle tilted upward in bliss. The professor's musk had invaded his senses, and the taste was near indescribable.
The dragon's tail tip was twitching. It was wiggling about in excitement. Jeff felt it hit against his thigh, when he applied a suction to Mr. White's cock. He kept doing it, even though his body was squirming, finally admitting to himself that sucking off this well built dragon had turned him on magnificently. Expelling a hot breath over that wonderfully ridged shaft, the rottweiler let out a small moan, his hands digging into the bedsheets. He wasn't gonna jerk it, not gonna jerk it, not gonna--
The first shot caught him by surprise. He was concentrating so hard on not letting this undeniably homosexual action get to him that he didn't realize that now, Professor White was cumming into his mouth. Swallowing by reflex, he tried to move up but found his pathway blocked by the dragon's commanding hand, holding him down. The second shot got swallowed too, and Jeff found himself tracking the path of the shot down to his stomach, much like he did earlier with that first shot of pre. The third and fourth didn't, though, because he felt weird enough as it is, swallowing the heated substance. At least, not immediately. When he was let up, suddenly, he found himself gasping and the stuff went down anyway.
Jeff found himself looking at the professor's grin. It was a little bit more tired than it was before, but it still sneered at him. Letting out a sigh, Mr. White sat up, then got from the bed. Spurred into action, Jeff grabbed his shirt and started to put it on. It was over. Thank goodness. He heard a drawer open, and some money being pulled free. When his shirt cleared his head, he found the dragon holding out a bunch of $20s at him, but when he reached to take it, they were withdrawn.
"You know, Jeff, I couldn't help but notice the raging hard-on you have." Jeff actually flushed, but felt himself held by the dragon's gaze. "I'm going to give you $200, but I will pay you double that if you blow your wad inside me." The dog's ears went back, clearly uncomfortable.
The word was as sweet and as smooth as sin. "Deal?"