Hotel: Chapter 1
At a party for middle aged persons trying to reclaim a wild youth I was drawn instinctively to a rabbit, slightly older than myself, who had aged so gracefully that his laid back confidence must have precluded stress for the better portion of his life. At least, that was what I told myself while working up the confidence to talk to him. I built up a great romantic image to justify my uncontrollable urge to bend him over and ram my knot up his ass in front of everyone, to be perfectly blunt.
His shoulders weren't broad, but he stood powerfully. His stuffy grey suit made him look like retired military or an unusually strong professor. He had obviously been staggeringly white when he was young, but now his long ears were tinted along the edges with a silvery grey and his entire coat was some faded neutral off white. On his lapel he kept a solitary daisy - wilted, but impressively bright - fastened carefully with a tiny gold pin. His most striking feature, though, was his eyes. One was blue and the other was brown. It would have only been a curiosity if it weren't for the fact that they were so crisp and bold in color and so wet and empathetic in appearance that they gave him an ethereal quality in close conversation. It was like his words had an otherworldly quality because his eyes seemed so impossible.
I would have been sure he was straight, or at least a top, if he was sexual at all, on account of his strong, confident, and professional appearance if it weren't for the way other people were treating him. He was surrounded by hungry eyes. Notoriously dominant people looked down on him with an unmistakable sense of conquest. Shy, homely, and mysterious folks eyed his body and licked their lips in what was surely lewd contemplation. Most puzzling of all, though, was how many times his full, twitching rabbit tail (sorry, I've always had an unnatural affinity for a rabbit's tail) was covertly molested by passing hands. It wasn't all that outrageous, as the party was generally accepted to be a mass hook-up for folks with loose morals, but it was odd to see him regarding the company as a source of pride. It was with an oddly internal and pleased demeanor that he accepted these anonymous gestures of intimate affection. I had to have him.
My usual company in the bedroom had, at the time, been those so young, so horny, or so devoid of self esteem as to render them naked and moaning with a dog cock pumping cum anywhere it pleased with almost no effort. In short, I took the easy meat with no exception. My only saving grace was my reputation among this desperate set for low standards and a huge canine cock. It was said by more than a few, also, that I produced an impressive amount of cum. As it was, though, this didn't seem as though it would give me an iota of leverage with the self-assured rabbit.
I was pretty much the same then as I am now, appearance wise; a deep reddish brown hound, a bit jowly beyond what's natural for my species, broad shouldered with large, powerful paws, nearly black eyes, and a jaw dropping sheath that always looks full. My favorite physical trait, though for the longest time I never told a soul, is how there is a tiny patch of white fur peaking from the inside of my sheath.
The trouble was that despite my obvious pleasure with myself, while neither fucking nor taking advantage of the young or naïve, I had no idea how to deal with someone I wanted. To my surprise, though, when I carried a drink over to him in a clichéd attempt at breaking the ice, he took it before I said a word and closed the space between us with hungry eyes.
"I've never seen you before, but it seems like you're pretty well known."
I nodded to a horse that had traced a finger under the rabbit's tail and walked off to illustrate what I was saying.
He smiled warmly, but with a curl of discomfort at the edges of his mouth. Before I knew it he had his arms around me and his thigh at my crotch. I could feel the heat from his body soaking through my sheath. His whiskers tickled my wide, flaccid ears as he whispered to me.
"I could say the same about you. Your reputation among the subs precedes you. But truth be told, I don't like anyone here. I just come for the nostalgia."
I shivered as his tongue nudged the side of my face.
Between the alcohol and the intoxicating turn of events, the precise happenings of the evening around that time are a blur, but I remember a lot of eyes falling on the two of us. The jealous ones made me uncharacteristically nervous and the eyes that said I was in for a ride ran a fire through me.
At some point he pulled me through the crowd and out to his car with a sense of focus that once again made me wonder if I wasn't about to get what I'd given for so many years. I settled into the plush leather seat and looked at the floorboards as he settled in to drive.
He looked over at me.
"Hm? What's wrong?"
Suddenly I felt quite sober. We became aware of the fact that we were two aging men acting like clumsy kids. I wrung my hands and breathed deep as his long ears flushed crimson.
"I kind of figured I'd grown out of feeling like this."
He looked down too, chuckling to himself. "Lets just call it a mid-life crisis."
We both looked forward into the night for what seemed like a long time. My eyes drifted over to the rabbit, then down to his slacks. Despite being in such an awkward and anachronistic situation his pants strained against his lust. Looking down, I realized I was in the same situation.
"I've never been completely satisfied with one night stands," he finally said. "Are you doing anything this weekend?"
I knew he was lying. He wouldn't have been at the party without whittling away too much of his life fucking and forgetting. "I've got Monday off... so I'm free for three days."
He started the car and drove in silence to a fancy hotel. I had figured he bought the car on impulse and put himself in debt with all the luxury options but I started to wonder if he was honestly rich. He opened the door for me and left the car with a valet. The whole night seemed to be spinning out of my control as he handed me a key and told me to wait for him.
The elevator seemed to take forever as I read the key over and over. There, plane as day, was the room number for a top floor suite. Sure, I was infatuated with the guy and he obviously had money, but the entire situation brought a life of insecure casual sex into discomforting focus. I tried to think of what unbelievable movie I'd seen all of this happen in before.
Finally the elevator stopped and I found the room. Half expecting the oak double-doors to hide some ridiculous coke party or decedent Vegas cliché, I was pleasantly surprised to find a cozy, classy room with modern steal furniture and fixtures all trimmed with bright pine and rosy cherry wood. There was a king sized bed topped with a white mink blanket next to a wall of bay windows. I'd never seen anything like it and to this day I don't know where he got it.
After the initial surprise the room gave me, I remembered the rabbit and why I was here in the first place. I carefully undressed and, not wanting to mar the pristine setting, tucked my clothes away in the closet and a large chest of drawers. The bed was irresistible in the air conditioner's chill and I must admit that the windows made me feel a bit shameful. I wanted to give the rabbit a scene worth arriving to, but the mink blanket proved to be poison to an alert mind. Silk sheets topped with a sea of fur was all that washed over my mind and body. My length slipped out and I feigned interest in stroking it, but in no time I found bliss in simply tangling myself in the bedspread and drifting to sleep, my body left to its own devices.
I woke as I had fallen asleep, in a dreamy flood of tasteful decadence, aroused but content to sustain that state. I rolled unsuspectingly into the light of the rising sun. After a brief uncomfortable adjustment into waking life I realized that the array of windows was partially obscured by horizontal wooden slats. It occurred to me that they must be an incredibly expensive set of blinds. Then, as I remembered the night before and how I fell asleep, in that way particular to the time just before and just after sleep, I experienced a sudden and irrational flush of terror. I shot bolt upright in bed, only to realize the handsome creature who owned the room lay next to me, slightly curled and with his back to me. I eased back down, sliding my arm under his pillow and pressing my body to his. I pulled the bedding back over us and put my other arm across his stomach. He stirred slightly, hugged my arm, and flit his tail against my early morning erection, eliciting a deep groan.
I felt quire silly as soon as I did it, but as if I was out of control of my mouth I lustily whispered "Oh god" into the back of his head. It was so clichéd and out of place in the placid morning scene. With his body pressed to mine and mine to his I felt at the same time beautiful and terribly flawed. I breathed deep with my nose pressed to his neck and fell back to sleep, wondering what kind of hookup this really was.
I dreamt of what the rabbit must have looked like when he was ten. I dreamt of myself at that age, too. It felt like I saw the two of us as a third person at the same time that I was myself in the dream. We were together in the same posture as our real, sleeping selves, and we lay on a blanket on the side of a rich, green grassy hill. The sun warmed our bodies but we shivered against each other, terrified of our nakedness.
In the dream, I took hold of his boyhood, completely rigid but only large enough for my fingertips. His little ass wriggled and his tail fluttered as I began grinding against him. All I could hear was the two of us groaning and whimpering in pitiful expressions of lust. I felt my paw stroking him and growing wetter and wetter. First it was urine, hot and fluid, that was running through my fingers. Soon, though, being as it was a dream, the fluid changed to thick, slimy rabbit cum as the two of us worked out our pre-pubescent lusts, though it still flowed as hot and constant as if he was pissing it out. I felt my tiny puppy cock find its mark and ease into his ass. Our moaning got louder and louder. Suddenly, I felt that unmistakable impulse to wake up to avoid wetting the bed. I fought it, sure that the dream was leading to the most powerful climax of my life.
In the end the shame that conditions us all to keep a dry bed forced me awake, though I was not cheated out of my climax. I was still draped over the rabbit but my cock was between his legs. He was grinding against me and I against him in a gentle, sleepy rocking while he stroked the end of my shaft with both paws - slicked with spit and pre. I was well past the point of no return so I squeezed the rabbit with both arms in an orgasmic fit and filled his paws past overflowing with cum, seeing myself fill the ten year old bunny ass in my minds eye, ashamed but unable to consider much beside how every previous orgasm paled in comparison.
The rabbit moaned softly and continued to massage my pulsing tip. He rubbed my cream between his legs and over his balls, holding his face in the pillow as he lifted his leg slightly to work some into his ass, fingering himself slowly. I moaned and licked his ear.
"I need to pee." I whispered.
I noticed his ears turn deeper and deeper red. He kept his face pressed to the pillow and I felt a profound juxtaposition between his dignified appearance and the lust of a shy youth evident in his actions. He shifted his legs again and pushed my tip along his cum and pre soaked fur till I sank suddenly to the knot in his ass. He convulsed in pleasure and I jerked towards him, though my knot stayed on the outside. I shouted some manner of profanity that I've since forgotten. I nipped the base of his ear, bringing my body weight over him, and whispered again.
"Oh god, I want to, but I really have to piss."
All he did was flex around me and nod rapidly, working to hide his face from me. Suddenly I realized what he was saying and must have blushed as hard as he did. I began thrusting softly, grinding my knot against his entrance. He worked his ass expertly against me and, without warning, I was hilted. That puffball of a tail started vibrating in spasms as instinct drove me to a second orgasm. The rabbit moaned with full abandon into the pillow and began stroking himself.
Before I realized that I was doing it, I was filling him up with an impressive quantity of hot urine. Half way through the act I felt him jerk at the tie, cumming into his paws. He let out a soft sigh and I joined him, finally able to enjoy a full release. On an impulse I rolled him over with me, depriving him of the pillow and yanking at the tie so that his spurting bunny cock jumped, laying a rope of seed across his body and both our faces. He yelped and whined, afraid of falling off my body and ashamed at being exposed. I took his paws and began cleaning them with my mouth to assure him.
"How am I getting out of bed without ruining the sheets? I haven't wet the bed since I was a pup and I don't intend to lose that streak to a bunny, however sexy he may be."
I still haven't figured out how he did it, and I didn't see anything at the time but a sexy form writhing slowly on top of me, but he managed to turn himself around and sit up. He looked down at me with a goofy, sleep-filled and self-satisfied expression, his pink bunny cock dribbling over my stomach as he sat there.
"They say you're pretty strong. Maybe you should carry me to the shower."
I laughed and bounced him on my lap, building my arousal back into full force. I didn't have the energy or youth to lift a lover my own age who was impaled on my cock, but after a short while he was moaning and stroking himself again as I thrust upward. It inspired an uncharacteristic strength and I managed, quite clumsily, to rise to my feet at the foot of the bed with the rabbits legs wrapped around my waist. He buried his face in my shoulder and I found my way to the shower far more gracefully than I had shimmied my way off the bed in the first place.