The Spoils Of War
God, he hated days like this.
The otter walked slowly away from the stark white church behind him, ripping off the upper half of his uniform that was splattered in blood. It was 1862, right in the middle of the Civil War, and fighting had broke out a few towns over. Him being the assigned field medic, it was his job to "fix" the soldiers. In his profession at this point in time, that meant giving them some whiskey and cutting off whatever he needed to to stop the infection. He was maiming these young men in the prime of their life, and they'd never be the same, and they'd always blame him more than the enemy. After all, he was the one with the saw.
Walking over to the treeline, he looked around. There were a few soldiers getting ready to bed down for the night, it looked like. Was it that late? He glanced upwards, and saw the sky a little dimmer than it was when he first came out. It was getting close to dusk, but no way he was going back in that church to sleep. Making sure no one saw him, he slipped into the woods and into a small clearing. It might not be as warm as the church, but there certainly wasn't as many moans of pain. Sitting down onto the spongy grass, he lighted his lantern and set it next to him. Personally, he was pretty shocked he was still alive. The only thing that kept a lot of these men going was hope for getting back home, which the otter had none of. He was attracted to males, and as such had no partner as it was terribly looked down upon. The Army wasn't much worse than real life to him.
With a heavy sigh, he slipped off his canvas pants and the undershirt of his uniform, leaving his nude and slim body exposed to the night air and the dim light of his lantern. He preferred sleeping in the nude, it was something he still retained from his ancestor's practices. As his head rested on the soft grass, he heard rustles behind him. Stirring immediately, he sat up and slowly scooted back. With a final rustle, a black cat walked into the small clearing, as nude as the otter was. He recognized him. John Riley, a soldier who had got grazed with a bullet in the battle earlier today, which the otter treated. There were rumours flying around that John liked males just like the otter did. He immediately jumped, and turned his head.
"Doc! Oh man, I'm sorry!"
The otter chuckled softly. "The name's Jack, not Doc. What the hell are you doing running around the woods naked, son?"
John gulped, and looked down slightly.
"I went to go take a bath in the creek down to the South to clean my wound a little more, and I couldn't find my clothes... I was gonna try to sneak back to camp. I'll leave... Sorry..."
Jack looked at him, and smiled softly. The cat's shaft had grown to almost full size since he ran into him. Maybe the rumours were true after all. The otter motion towards the ground, placing his bloodstained shirt over his own rapidly growing length. "Sit."
John looked at him oddly for a moment, then nodded and sat down, visibly embarrassed. The scent of the otter's musk was making the cat even more flustered. Jack lipped his lips softly. He was cute. He had often caught the young cat looking at him for the last few weeks, and maybe he noticed how much he had been looking at him. He nodded.
"How's your wound, John?"
The cat simply stared into his eyes for a few seconds, and nodded. "Good," he said with a slight smile. Rather abruptly, the cat leaned his head forward and placed his muzzle against the medic's, aggressively locking him into a kiss. At first, Jack was shocked and tried to push against him, but the cat was persistent. After a few seconds, he gave in, and kissed back just as deeply. Soon enough, however, John broke it and backed away slightly.
"Oh god... I'm so sorry," he looked up at the medic softly. "It's been so long since I've seen a male nude, and-"
Jack cut him off. "So the rumours about you are true?"
He nodded softly, again looking back down to the ground. "Yeah... I tried the same thing with a guy in my camp. It didn't work..."
Jack smirked. Slowly, he moved his shirt, exposing his length to the young cat. He scooted closer to him, and spoke in a slow, husky whisper. "The way I see it, we're both males... We both like males, and I don't think we're gonna make it through this war if we don't get some companionship. I know you've been watching me all through this campaign, so why not?"
John nodded, and looked down to the otter's shaft. Slowly, he bent his head down, and licked up his length to the tip, looking up to see his reaction. He placed a reassuring hand on his head, and stroked his ears slightly. He went back down, this time taking about half of it into his muzzle and softly massaging the underside with his tongue. A quiet moan came from overhead, making pre-cum well at the tip of the cat's growing length that was rubbing against the otter leg. Slowly taking as much as he could, he moved up, rubbing and massaging his tongue against every inch. Jack was having to grit his teeth to prevent a loud moan from escaping his muzzle, which had a chance of drawing attention to them. As he started to lick the tip rapidly, Jack pulled himself away. Months without a release made him very sensitive, and he wanted to save it for the big event. With a silent and understanding nod, the cat laid down on his back. Jack scooted over slowly, grabbing his ass and raising it up to angle with his already lubricated dick. "Shhh." The cat nodded again, and closed his eyes.
Slowly, the otter pushed the tip into him, waiting for him to relax. Judging from how tight he was and the slight and soft gasps coming from below him, he had probably never had another man before. When he finally relaxed slightly, he pushed in more, the feeling of his warm ridges rubbing against his shaft producing ecstasy like he had never felt before. Concerned that his mate wasn't getting enough pleasure yet, he gently grabbed his cock with one of his paws and slowly moved up and down, smiling at him. Finally, he was completely inside him. Leaning down into more of a missionary position, Jack kissed him deeply. John looked into his eyes, and moaned softly from his soft paw on him.
"Please, Jack... Faster. I need this."
The otter looked at him, and tilted his head. "It'll hurt you."
He shook his head, and slowly wrapped his soft cat legs around his back, encouraging him to move. "I don't care, it'll get better... Please."
Jack thought for a minute, kissed his mate again deeply, and started to swiftly move up and down inside of him, keeping their muzzles locked to quiet their moans and occasional yips of pain from his partner. He was starting to get close already, and the cat's shaft growing even larger in his hand showed that he was as well. Moving even faster, he felt the cat's legs tighten, and with a loud moan, he spilled his seed into his tight cave, and felt more of it coat both his chest and his partner's. Panting softly, the otter pulled out of him with a pop, and rubbed their two shafts together. They both smiled, and John licked his mate's nose cutely. The cat spoke softly, and with a slight wink.
"If we get out of this war alive, why take the chance of finding another male like us when we've already found another?" He looked up at him hopefully. Jack smiled, and rolled off of him, settling against him to go to sleep.
"Sounds like a plan, soldier. Sounds like a plan."
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