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My main thing about moving to a new place is that I'm terrible with navigation. I can't find my way around worth crap. That's part of the reason why now, in college, I always take a few days before a new semester starts to just walk around, find out where all my classes are, try to figure out the best route to get between them... and even then, I still get lost more often than I should.

If I've heard correctly, college has a lot of firsts for lots of people. Sure, this kind of held true with me, but all of my important firsts came back in high school, right after my parents split up and I moved away with my mother and brother. So, already, I was in a new place, with new people around me, going to a new high school once the school year started. You could probably easily say that I was nervous.

Keep in mind, this all happened before I'd started hanging out with the police shepherd Beau, before I'd met Hayley, before I'd lived with Arkani and Pan as my roommates, before I'd met Harold, that German shepherd dad - before Mr. Jacobs, before my brother Brendan had moved out of the house.

Hell, this was before I'd had any experience in sexual matters. My first time - ever came a few months after we'd moved to this new house.

Going into that high school, sure, I was nervous. I was nervous as hell. I didn't know anybody, I didn't know my way around, I was shy in some things... but back when I was younger, I guess I also had fewer inhibitions in social matters, since I attracted new friends a lot faster than I do now. Most of them were from my same grade level and in a few of my classes, especially the closer ones, and then there were a few from higher grades, too. One of them, a senior, was a wolf: dusty brown-and-grey fur, ice-blue eyes, tail perhaps a little longer than the usual.

I don't know what attracted him to me, or me to him - his personality was a little... off, pushing the rest of my friends and especially my mother away from him. "I don't want you hanging out with that wolf," she told me once after I brought him over to play video games. "He gives me a bad feeling. I feel like he's a bad influence on you, Luke. Watch out, okay?"

Well, I was young, and naïve, and - God, horny. I'd mostly come to terms with being not-entirely-straight some time before our move, so on going into this new high school, I was interested to look around and scout out my opportunities, as I'm sure most young high school pups stupidly do. I'd heard some rumors about this particular wolf, both before and after we started hanging out in the halls at lunch, and... well, it turned out that we rode the same bus home after school. He lived literally a few streets down with me.

As it goes with those of us who aren't really too picky, how much sex you have is generally based on opportunity and chance. With this older wolf just a seven minutes' walk from my house? Well, hell.

Alex, his name was - Alex the wolf. Tall, lanky, looking a lot like a canid me, if you were to stretch me on the vertical axis a bit. He had his odd interests, and I had mine: in my youth I was a lot more boisterous and flamboyant than I am now, wearing tight pants, bright clothing - I remember I had this bright orange running jacket that I stubbornly wore in almost all weather - and showering probably a little less often than I should have. Somewhere between annoying flamer boy and dirty hippie; that was my style. High school had a lot of regrets for me, but Alex isn't really one of them.

The first few times I brought him home were after Mom had already gotten off work, and my brother Brendan - who also rode that same bus - had retreated into his room to do homework. Mom did her thing of being polite at first, asking his name and how we met, things like that. He and I retreated upstairs to my room to play our video games and whatever else, but as we hung out more, he invited me to go out walking with him - and, of course, I accepted. This was before I had my apparent aversion to leaving the house at all costs.

We both lived right by a nice park with a big forested area, accessible from the sidewalk coursing through the rest of the place. Some parts of this forest lay remote and unfrequented from everyone else, and that's where we went. At first, I was stunned by the beauty of the place, since I hadn't seen anything else like this since we moved here... once you got over how the little river running through the forest had been backed up in multiple places by piles of trash, plastic bags, discarded styrofoam cups, old tires, rotten electronics, and unidentifiable scraps of cloth. It became a sort of thing for Alex and I to come here after school and find something cool to take home.

However, as I spent more time with him, I found myself thinking more and more about the rumors I'd heard, mainly the one that he'd just recently broken up with his boyfriend. I can remember that word pinging around the inside of my head, especially since I hadn't yet been in any relationship: boyfriend, boyfriend. Back then, as a young otter in high school, it felt... odd to think about that word in relation to myself.

Of course, we were just boys. Just teenagers, just young high school students; just an otter and a wolf. And we were both gay, single, and on our own in a forest away from prying eyes. One time, Alex stood up on a ridge over the river, undid his pants, and started relieving himself right into the water below - and hell, I could do nothing but watch. Back then, I thought I did so without being noticed; however, now that a lot of time has passed and I've been through the age that Alex was at that time, I have a pretty good feeling that he knew I was watching.

Alex was uncut. Fair length, a shower rather than a grower; less foreskin overhang than me, but still enough that it entirely covered his head when soft. He didn't tug it back while pissing, and just tenderly wiped off the drips on the inside of his pants (since he never wore underwear, which I'd soon come to enjoy quite a bit) and continued on. He hadn't stopped talking about whatever our last topic of conversation was, but, hell, I wasn't paying attention.

The next time we went to the forest was a Friday, if I remember right. I was all shaky and nervous, having made up my mind the previous night - while bucking up into my paw under the warmth of my bed covers - that I'd make an advance on Alex the next time we hung out. I don't remember exactly how it went, but he and I went down to the more remote part of the forested area, lounged back in a dip in a clearing just talking about whatever, and... well.

"I've shown you mine," he said, half-jokingly, "so why don't you show me yours?"

This was my chance, I resolved. I was nervous, and unsure - after all, this guy was a fair number of years older than me, and we were both still in high school - but, anticipation and expectation got the better of me, and soon I was lifting up and tugging my pants down my legs to show him my own uncut length, half-hard and nowhere near as impressive as Alex's. The wolf's expression at that moment has never left my memory: this sort of half-surprise, half-amusement, but all pleasant and genuine...

"Oh..." I remember him murmuring, right before he came over and pushed me back down into a lying position. His paws pushed the flaps of my fly open, since I'd stopped wearing underwear after learning how he did the same, and then - then a nose pressed briefly into my short pubic before, his lips brushing against the warm skin of my shaft. My foreskin was still kind of tight back then, only able to roll back about halfway along my head while hard... and I was quickly approaching full mast, what with this wolf's muzzle tracing along it. He seemed to be - to be judging my scent, to be appraising my size and what I had to give him.

And, apparently, he found me satisfactory: one of those paws that held my pants open came to the center and tilted my cock up to him, and then, he flicked his long, flat wolf tongue into the tight rim of my foreskin against my sensitive head, which had never felt such a feeling before. God - I remember arching my back, leaning back against the cool earth under my elbows, and just kind of shuddering: Alex kept his paw on my shaft, keeping my overhang in place (not like it would go anywhere, anyway) as he swirled his tongue around and around, slickening up my hidden head, making me wriggle and squirm with the new feeling. It was like - faint discomfort, something that made me jerk upwards with each pull of his tongue over the surface of my head, beneath a much more powerful and smoother pleasure, only making me stiffen up further in his paw and throb against his lips.

"You know..." he mused, his breath washing out over the end of my cock. I couldn't help lifting up a little, grinding against his lips again; he answered by flicking his tongue out against the underside of my head, over the rolled-up rim of my foreskin. I shivered again. "Once you get down to it, you don't taste too bad..."

Hell, I was too worked up to figure out what to make of that - whether to be flattered or offended. I still don't know. All that mattered was that, holy shit, this is really happening, and - God, it was everything I'd expected it to be. Sure, some manner of nervousness and anxiety still remained, still kept me from doing the things I'd resolved to: the previous night, I imagined myself to be in Alex's position, with him lying down.

But, hey, I wasn't complaining. My heart beat heavily in my chest, my breath came and went a little more ragged than usual, and I was very aware of the phone vibrating in my pocket: Mom had sent me a text a few minutes ago that it was time to come home. I think she was starting to catch on to why I wanted to spend so much time with this odd Alex wolf.

However, just as he moved back and started to descend on me again, his ears perked up and he looked back behind us, toward the path that led here from the rest of the park. "I hear someone," he said, and scuttled to stand up and brush the fallen leaves from the trees above off himself; I felt a blush heat my cheeks and ears, and similarly stood up, to do my pants back up.

So we started on our way home, hugged when we passed by his street and said goodbye to each other, and I went home alone. Mom didn't ask any questions about what we'd been doing, and I didn't think to worry about it - but, now, I probably would've figured something out by the position of her whiskers, her ears, her tail. Oh well; the past is the past.

I enjoyed myself again that night, remember just how it felt to have Alex's tongue on my shaft and under my foreskin, and from that, imagining how it'd feel to have him get me off with that tongue of his. I imagine that my paw was his muzzle, imagined thrusting forward between his lips, tensing up, spurting out again and again-

The following day after school, both of us knew what we were going to do. This time, it was my turn. After getting off the bus and briefly stopping by my place to drop our school things off, I called goodbye to my brother upstairs and then headed toward the park, with Alex close beside me. Maybe there was a bit of a spring in my step, a bit of a perk to how I held my tail; again my heart was beating in my chest, but I wanted this today.

He and I got back to the same spot we'd been in yesterday, but this time instead of lying down first, I stood in front of him, looked up at him - he was a few years older than me, so there was a bit of a height difference between us - and pressed one paw up between his legs while the other started working at his fly.

When it comes to firsts in sex, I should also mention that the first time undoing someone else's pants is a damn hard feat to accomplish. Or, at least, it was for me - first time, second time, third time.

I remember just running my paw up him, gently feeling his length in my fingers while stuck somewhere between looking up at his muzzle and looking down at what it was I touched. First time touching another person like this; he felt a little bit like myself, except - thicker, heavier, warmer. His foreskin rolled back and forth, back and forth much easier than mine: with him here, half-hard and slightly throbbing under the gentle touch of my fingers, it took almost no effort at all to roll it back across his head and then bring it back forward, again and again.

Because, again, this was my first time doing anything of this sort with someone else, and because the only musk I'd ever tasted of was my own, my nose couldn't pick up Alex's scent. Not when I stood in front of him, not when he said "...y'know, you can... put your mouth on it..." and started to sit down, not when I did the same and wriggled down between his legs. I kept my muzzle a short distance away, eyes fixed on the smooth, easy movement of his skin over the pink flesh of his head - and, just as I thought: shower, not a grower. He didn't gain much in size as he hardened up, but rather did... well, just that, and little more: got stiffer.

I'd thought that my heart couldn't beat any faster, but - hell, it sure did. I had to keep on readjusting and squirming on the rough ground as my own pants seemed to tighten on me, especially as his scent started to become palpable to my nose - whenever I rolled his skin forward over his head again and wafted the warm air towards me, just barely making my whiskers twitch and tickle.

I breathed it in. I breathed his scent deep, feeling it on the air, picking up the slight hint of spice and heady musk; it was an odd scent, of course like nothing else I'd ever smelled before. This was my first step to realizing that very guy had his own musk, some stronger than others, some spicier, some drier, some flatter... Alex actually didn't have much of a scent, as I'd come to learn once I had more experience. Usually I had to slide his foreskin back and press my nose directly to the surface of his head to be able to smell anything, and when I could, it sent a sweet, sweet shiver down my back.

My first few licks at him were shy, timid - of course, just getting a taste for the whole thing, literally. I'm not sure what I expected from sucking a cock, but it certainly wasn't what I got - and what I got was almost no taste, like just running my tongue along a particularly smooth, warm, and supple expanse of skin and flesh, clinging to the surface of my tongue if I pressed hard, sliding smoothly along it otherwise.

I closed my eyes - because that's what they always did in the videos - and continued to explore this new sensation, this warm weight pressing down on my tongue and the squishy firmness nudging against the roof of my mouth. Later, Alex would let me know that I'd taken the saying "suck off" a little too seriously, but - well, it didn't occur to me then. All I could think about, just like before, was holy shit, this is really happening. I'm really doing this.

Of course I couldn't bring him all the way into my muzzle. Of course I had trouble bobbing on him, couldn't really fit him in my tongue as well as he'd fit me into his, started to feel the ache at the joint of my jaw very early on. Sure, it was nice, I thought - but after a while I moved back and just pawed him off, watching the way my slick saliva added more lubrication to his already smoothly-moving foreskin, seeing how the moisture caught the light and glistened. And, then, I remember what he'd done to me, and moved forward again; I rolled his foreskin forward, bunched it up as much as it could, pressed my lips directly against the wrinkled ridges of soft, slightly-scented skin - and slid my tongue in.

That wasn't so hard to get a hang of, though I did have to watch myself with how hard I pressed my tongue against him. Just - hook it underneath the rim of his foreskin, drag it around, see how deep into it I can slide before it gets too tight, draw it back, roll it around some more...

While doing that and focusing on his head, waiting for the soreness in my jaw to dissipate, I resumed pawing him off, still watching the way his skin easily slid along his length and how his veins bulged out a little with each throb. Alex kept one paw on the back of my head, not necessarily guiding my movements as much as simply resting there, for something to hang on to. At one point he started thrusting forward and back past my lips, and I let him: he seemed to understand perfectly well that this was my first time, that I was inexperienced and very likely to choke on him if I took him too deeply. Which I did, a few times, in my eagerness.

His orgasm came as a surprise, as well. Perhaps I wasn't paying attention, or perhaps I'd gotten too involved in watching his cock pulse in and out of my mouth, but - all of a sudden the wolf sucked in a breath, swallowed, tightened his grip on my head, and jerked forward a little and shuddered, which I now figure was in trying to hold himself back. He more sprayed than spurted out over my tongue and against the back of my throat, his seed tangy, salty - not exactly a pleasant taste, and little virgin Lukas there actually half-considered letting it drip out the corners of my mouth. However, I didn't, and dutifully swallowed it down - not without a little bit of a grimace.

Were I to do this same thing to someone today, you know as well as I do that I'd look up at the guy and expect something like a "good boy" or something of that sort - but, no; with Alex back then, back in high school, after giving my first blowjob (which took a lot longer than you'd think just from reading this), he just kind of lay back on the ground to catch his breath, let his paw slip down the back of my head - and then pulled me up beside him.

I felt awkward lying there, half-hard in my own pants as I'd gone soft a little in the time it took to get him off. Should I grind against him? Should I take his paw and slide it down into my pants for him to get me off? But - after a few seconds, he took care of it for me, and then I had my first experience of finding myself pinned down by an older and bigger wolf who knew both what he wanted and what I wanted.

It probably took a little longer than he'd expected due to my nervousness, but damn, did it feel good to have someone else's paw on me again. He sat back on my legs and stroked my cock in front of him, one paw moving around from my chestfur to my bellyfur and then down to my sack and back, while the other coursed up and down, up and down, tugging my foreskin back just a little further each time. I remember biting back a few moans, and then realizing that I didn't have to, that it didn't matter around Alex... so when I did cum, I let it be as loud as it needed to.

And, God, was it nice. I didn't even bother cleaning myself up, and we were both too tired to do much of anything else. After catching our breath, we hugged again, did our pants back up, and started back home, to part at the same place we did the day before - and I managed to hop into the shower to clean up just ten minutes before Mom got home from work.

Alex and I didn't advance any further from that for another month or two. He'd come over to my place after school, strip his pants off, stand there in the middle of the room with his cock hanging out, and I'd take it upon myself to scoot away from my desk and work on him in taking a break from my homework; or we'd lie down at his place with the door of his bedroom half-shut watching a movie, his paw in my pants slowly, slowly grinding at me and making me swallow and grunt into his ear; or, the one time he spent the night, which was when Mom was out somewhere else, we just lay on my bed with our heads between the other's legs, nuzzling and licking and tonguing and sucking. I'm fairly confident that a lot of the stretching and loosening of my foreskin at this time was due to the influence of Alex's tongue, working in underneath the rim of it and sliding around at least once every three days or so.

My first time going further, though... God, I remember it clearly. It was on winter break away from classes, and of course being high school, I had a reading assignment over the break, some book equally cold and dreary that we'd doubtless have to write a few essays over. Alex came over one day - he had this habit of just sort of... showing up, something that really annoyed my mom - and lounged back on the bed behind me while I lay there reading this book, every now and then flipping a page.

Honestly, I wasn't really feeling like doing anything that day. Maybe it had just gotten to the point in our relationship where that sort of sexual contact was no longer as enticing and fantastic as it used to be; sometimes he'd come over and strip down, but I wouldn't really feel like pawing or sucking him off, and he'd have to handle it himself. Cruel, sure, but... we were young. This time, though, he started with his arm around me, drawing small circles in the fur of my belly with a claw, which was already enough to make me shiver and have to reread the occasional paragraph in that book.

But, then, that paw of his worked down my body, easily undid the fly of my pants and zipper, too, and traced that claw up along the underside of my length again and again, just barely catching along the overhang of my foreskin and making me twitch - just as my cock started to twitch, too, and harden up. Being an otter, I couldn't help but grind back against Alex, as a sort of nonverbal declaration of you've changed my mind; at the front of his pants I could feel a similar firm warmth, the same that I'd felt right there under my tail a few times before but had been too shy and nervous to feel any closer.

I remember just kind of staring at the same spot on whatever page I was on as Alex worked his own pants down his legs, rubbed the end of his cock up against my tight, unused tailhole - the feeling of slight foreskin overhang kissing against the rim, rolling slightly around with his movements is certainly something. At this point in time, I was too young and innocent to be comfortable with wandering into a store and picking up a bottle of lube; after a little bit more grinding and gentle huffing into my ear, Alex shifted his paw up between his chest and my back and dragged his tongue along the palm, which - believe me - worked just fine for lubrication, even on my first time. I'd felt that tongue along my neck, along my cock, along my belly and chest and lips and my own tongue, and I can say with full certainty that his saliva is slick enough.

I'd soon feel that for certain, too. He started slowly, gently, remarkably so; today I still get slight discomfort and pain from settling back onto a cock, especially one thick like Alex's, but my first time back then seemed to be an anomaly. The most discomfort I felt was right as he started to sink into me, stretching me for the first time and making me squirm and wriggle slightly... but it was nothing that couldn't be fixed just by lifting my leg up a little.

By then, I'd already long since lost my place in the book and forgotten what I had already read. All that existed to me was the feeling of an arm around my chest, of Alex's breath against my neck, of the warmth of his body on my back and of his hard cock as he gradually pressed into me, his foreskin rolling back with his head as he sank into the tight, ridged rim of my tailhole.

Hell, I don't know how long it took. My phone had fallen to the floor at some point early on, and I didn't notice until afterwards. All I knew was that he was there, and I was there, and for a few hours, we had the whole house to ourselves, thanks to my brother being busy at school with some extracurricular group. If I couldn't yet take him all the way into my throat, I could at least be glad that I was able to take his full length under my tail, certainly a feat for a first-timer like me on someone well-endowed like Alex.

I know for a fact that I'll never forget how it felt to have him buried under my tail, the bones of his hips - Alex had always been skinny and lanky, like me - grinding against my rump, his belly against my lower back, his chest against my shoulderblades... and when he first churned his hips a little, how it felt to have his hard length move a little inside me, that faint - odd distant discomfort, along with the ripple of sweet pleasure... we hadn't even completely removed our pants (as they still hung about halfway up our thighs, giving us just enough room for this) and at this point, that didn't even matter.

The book had half-closed around my thumb; my eyes had half-closed; my mouth had fallen half-open. Alex remained deeply buried in me for a moment longer, letting me get fully accustomed to his girth, and then started to pull back out just as slowly as he'd first slid into me. Instead of going from base to tip, tip to base, he stopped every now and then to press back into me, making the bed beneath us squeak (as well as making me suck in slow breaths and let out shuddering sighs).

Gradually his paw moved from my chest to my side to my hip, and held there as he picked up speed and force. I hadn't yet moved my own paw down to my cock, because - God, it just felt so good having him slowly churn in and out of me, feeling the warmth of his body against my rump each time he buried himself in me, and then the slight tug when he pulled back. I honestly hadn't expected bottoming to feel that good, and I remember that part of why I'd shied away from it back then was because I was scared I wouldn't enjoy it. But, Jesus...

Alex ended up pressing into me again and again, just short of pounding my tight rump as he'd start to do in the future. Our breaths came and went in different rhythms, but both raucous and uneven, and mine had started to turn to small high-pitched moans of delicious pleasure. I clenched around him each time he pressed into me, and his claws dug into the fur and flesh of my hip - but, I didn't care.

He came first, and let me know by hilting in me once more and then thrusting forward a few times, a moan of his own taking over his breath in my ear. The throbs I could feel perfectly fine, and I even grinded back against him a little; back then, I wasn't sure whether I should've expected to be able to feel his cum spurt out into me or not. Heart beating, skin tingling all over, breath shaky - it took me not even five seconds with a paw to end up shooting my own load diagonally across the bed, aided by me unconsciously pressing back against him as he slowly, slowly softened under my tail. I can remember looking down and seeing the streaks of cum across the sheet, as well as a particularly large pool of slickness directly underneath where the end of my hard cock had been twitching.

Usually, I didn't pre. At this naïve time in my life, I just shrugged that off as something reserved for cut guys. However, this was my first time learning that when I bottom, sometimes I leak as much pre as I do cum.

We remained entwined on the bed for a while longer, my book totally forgotten. I think we actually ended up dozing off, but not before he'd tugged out of me and made me gasp again... it was the sound of Mom opening the garage door that brought us back to our senses, though, and that day was the first time that Alex had to leave through the window of my bedroom to evade suspicion. I covered the spot where I'd finished with the blankets and settled back at my desk to look like I'd been reading, and hoped that Mom wouldn't notice the flicking of my tail, the slight shaking of my paws, the dreamy look in my eyes...

Now, I'm fully aware that she could probably smell the sex that these two teenage boys had just had. She didn't say anything, though, and later called me down for dinner...

...and, God, I enjoyed over and over again the memory of that first time getting fucked, even past my second time, past my third, fourth, seventh, tenth. There's just something about firsts.