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This story contains M/Solo masturbation involving an adult male who is absolutely NOT a raccoon. :3

Borrowing the Zune

Rocket's cheeks flushed as he lay down upon the roof of the Milano. Even now he could see that smirk upon Quill's face. The knowing smile that crossed the human's features for just a moment before he got a hold of himself, nodded calmly, and handed his fellow guardian what he had asked for.

It was all Quill's fault. There had been plenty of times when anywhere and anytime would have been enough for Rocket to do what he was about to do. A time when he hadn't needed to be in the mood. When he hadn't cared about it feeling incredible, just so long as it kept him from feeling anything else for a few minutes.

He sighed, unfastening the harness-straps of his outfit and shuffling his upper body free from the confines of the blended leather and synthetics. Reaching down beside him, not needing to look as this whole exercise had become deeply familiar over the last few months, Rocket's paw landed upon the human's music player. He uncurled the earbuds from where they were wrapped around it, slipped the rubbery bulbs into his inner ears, and lifted the device itself up over his head, placing it between him and the green tinted night sky of whatever world this was they were resting upon between jumps. Quickly at first, skipping through several tracks he'd heard in recent days, Rocket slowed only as he began to approach some unfamiliar titles.

He played the first. Almost immediately he winced, changing it to the next one. Too loud. Too upbeat. With a title like Walking on Sunshine, he should have expected as much.

The next couple were... fine, but they didn't really do anything for him. He chuckled. All the times he'd done this in prisons, listening to people screaming in loneliness and pain and rage, and now he couldn't even do it without the right mood music. He was getting soft. But still, he continued to browse, until finally...

"Well, that's a little on the nose."

The song title said it all, likely claiming far more than it could possibly have delivered. But as it began to play, Rocket was pleasantly surprised. He set the Zune down by his side once more, lifted his hips from the surface of the ship's outer hull, and began to ease off his clothing the rest of the way. With toes flexing in freedom he was soon absolutely naked, and though normally he wished to avoid that nude, native state which made him so much less distinguishable from that creature for which he was so often mistaken, he couldn't help but admit it felt damn good. In the ship it was too easy to be walked in on to spend much time undressed outside of bed. But here... well, the rest of the crew knew not to bother Rocket when he was 'borrowing the zune'.

Closing his eyes, letting the music sweep him away...

'Baby, I'm hot just like an oven. I need some lovin'! And baby, I can't hold it much longer, it's getting stronger and stronger...'

...Rocket reached down and wrapped a paw around his already stiffened cock. He squeezed it. Stroked it up and down, and shuddered as the chorus began, causing him to chuckle through his pleasure. Sexual healing indeed.

The raccoon's body squirmed slightly as he masturbated, his hips rising off the metal plates below as he thrust against his hand, his toes curling and straining in a gentle rhythm shared by the music and the motion of his hand upon his erection. He worked his shaft in the way only its owner could, not focusing on his lack of a partner, indeed not fantasising nor hoping for one at all. His only focus was himself. His body. That and the music of course, soothing the often tumultuous thoughts which surged through his active mind and replacing them with a single point of reference through which this relief, this pleasure could be channelled.

It felt good. Actually, it felt fucking great.

He stroked himself faster. He squeezed at his member with a careful intensity that hit all the right spots while not pushing him too far, too soon. While his body was eager, he was in no rush to have this hastened to an overly rapid end. By the same token of course, he wasn't intending to hold back either. He just wanted to let the song carry him to climax, and as it repeated a second time, then a third, and as Rocket himself grew more familiar with its cadence and the permeating meaning of its lyrics, they did carry him closer and closer to the brink.

Only when he was already upon the final approach itself did Rocket begin to intensify his stroking. The music was still as mellow and enthralling as ever in its rhythm, but at that point his body's urges exceeded even what this song could offer him. The music had gotten him this far, and now it was down to his own body's instincts to get him the rest of the way.

"Ah!"

He let slip a sharp, gasping grunt of pleasure.

"A-aaahh!"

Another. Longer. Louder. More frantic as his hand became a blur upon his shaft, the other reaching down to fondle and caress the furred pouch of his balls.

His back arched. His tail flicked violently from side to side, and as his toes drummed against the deck-plates below, a barking cry of pure pleasure escaped Rocket's muzzle as he began to unload thick ribbons of cum in a high arc over himself, soon feeling their sticky, warm impacts across his torso and face.

Shuddering, gasping and with whiskers violently twitching as he panted and moaned, Rocket milked himself dry and spilled his hot cum all over his own furred body. He revelled in the pleasure for all it was worth, and just as the song finished its fourth playthrough the satisfied guardian collapsed back against the Milano's roof, groaning in fatigued satisfaction.

"Ohhh yeah... n-now that fucking hit the spot."

For maybe twenty seconds after the fact, Rocket rested. He indulged in the relief, the relaxation of being totally spent and sated, head too fuzzy to worry about anything else. But then he plucked out the earbuds, reset the Zune and wrapped it up neatly once again just the way Quill liked. He set it down on the deck, rose shakily to his feet, and began to dress once more.

It was then, as he blinked and looked around at the surface of this planet, he noticed something on the Northern horizon. A slight flickering against the more bluey green light of the fading sun.

He slipped into his clothes a little more quickly, and just as he was fastening the last strap, a voice rang out over the ship's tannoy system.

"Uhh, Rocket? I'm just wondering, buddy, are you... um..."

Quill's voice rang out, slightly nervous as though aware that he shouldn't be disturbing his fellow guardian right then. Before the human could say anything more though, Rocket heard a slight scuffle, then Drax's voice rang out in place, sounds of both Quill and Gamorra yelling at him in the background.

"Rocket. Quill and Gamorra wish to know if you have yet achieved ejaculation as a result of your daily masturbation with musical accompaniment, because if so they have a question for you."

A loud crack, followed by a cry of pain from Drax, followed, and Quill's voice rang out once again.

"That is not what we said. But... uh... are you done?"

Rocket's face burned crimson, but rather than simply leaping off the ship and trying to nose-dive into the ground below as fatally as possible, he closed his eyes, took a deep breath, and swallowed his pride.

"Yeah, I'm done. What's up?"

Gamorra's voice rang out over the comms system.

"There's something strange on our sensors. We can't get a proper fix on it. Can you see anything from up there?"

Rocket sighed as he looked back to the North, to the now larger, or perhaps simply closer swirling mass of... whatever it was blocking out the horizon's light.

"Yeah, I see it. Hold on."

He strolled over to his bag, glad that he had decided not to employ any of the accessories which dwelled within it tonight. From one side pocket however he plucked a set of micro-binoculars, and set them across his eyes as he looked North one more time.

His whiskers twitched. His tail bristled.

"This planet... it wouldn't happen to be called Chantarellia, would it?"

He looked around at the foliage surrounding their landing site. Foliage which now he looked at it seemed much more fungal than plant-like. Even before Gamorra could answer, he knew.

"It is. Do you know this world?"

Once again Drax's voice cut in, this time with loud bellowing laughter.

"That is hilarious. You have not heard of Chantarellia? The beautiful paradise world uninhabited because of the flocks of vampiric sky fungus which roam its surface and devour all non fungal substances? How foolish would you have to be to land a starship on such a world!"

Gamorra and Quill's cursing cries drowned one another out, but Quill's next words were clear as the crew sprang into action.

"Drax, Gamorra, grab weapons and get up top. We have to defend the ship while I prepare us for take-off. Rocket, do you have a gun?!"

Silence fell over the ship, and as Rocket licked a drop of rogue cum off the tip of one finger, he peered down at the several weapons strapped to his bag of toys. Quill's voice rang out almost sheepishly once again a few seconds later.

"Stupid question. Never mind."

From close by, the swarm of sky fungus shrieked, and a split-second before rapid laser fire began to ring out through the calm night air, Rocket grinned.

Borrowing the zune as he had been lately was certainly one way to relax at the end of a day, but nothing got him chilled out and ready for bed quite like some late night carnage and destruction.

By Jeeves

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