Office Hours
Evan, a former TA of Professor Charlton, helps the old bull with some office hours stress relief. He has some . . . unique methods.
Evan was glad he'd had the foresight to wear soft pants.
He was under Professor Charlton's desk. The bull's cock was soft in his mouth, a musky weight of salty, savorous flesh upon his tongue. They'd discussed cockwarming over text a few days ago - how Charlton wanted Evan's sweet mouth around him, holding him, during office hours, a quiet, perverse act hidden from the students that filed in for Charlton's assistance.
Evan had been Charlton's TA the last year, and it had been hard for the young student - a slim, shy wildcat from California - to cope with Charlton's presence. The bull was massive: almost seven feet tall and barrel-chested to match, with a muscled torso and round but firm belly, both of which strained against the fabric of the oxfords and sweaters he wore, and the sleeves of his shirts always seemed ready to split around his biceps. That wasn't to mention the way his thighs and ass fit in dress pants - or how little of his endowment they hid, even with his cock in his sheath. Evan had spent his whole time as teaching assistant flustered and embarrassingly aroused, with many trips to . . . relieve himself in a bathroom stall.
Luckily, Charlton took mercy on him - and had a taste for nubile young felines young enough to be his sons.
It was a simple arrangement they had: Evan enjoyed the company and body of a man beyond the pale of typical masculinity, and Charlton got a young, eager lover as a fucktoy.
And so Evan was on his knees, nursing Charlton's heavy, soft cock between his lips. He'd trained for this - his gag reflex was basically gone, and he could easily breathe only through his nose.
This, of course, had the secondary effect that he could only smell Charlton - the strong, heady scent of a male, earth and dark. Evan salivated at it, longed to taste the heavy, droopy sack that was, like Tantalus' fruit, so close and yet unattainable.
For now, at least.
A student came in, her voice soft and questioning, asking after the recent problem sets Charlton had assigned - something about celestial mechanics, Kepler's law, gravitational constants. Normally Evan, well on his ways to a master's in astrophysics, would have followed easily - but he had other things overpowering his mind. It was pleasant, the dulling of his cognition; his normally frenetic brain was reduced to keeping the stillness of his body and breathing.
Inhale, exhale. Inhale, exhale.
He swallowed, and one of Charlton's broad, warm hands came to hold him soft but firm. It pushed him deeper into the cottony haze of sub space. The quiet conversation above him faded into noise, then dropped from his awareness - it didn't matter, not now, not with Charlton's cock in his mouth, resting there, the center of Evan's narrowing sense of being. His sense of time fled, and he kneeled unseen, unheard, content - until a deep voice pricked at his mind.
"- van? Evan, baby?"
Evan blinked himself from his stupor - Charlton had both huge hands on him, framing his face as the bull looked down at him, smiling.
"God, baby boy, you went deep, huh?" he said, his voice a pleased rumble. He stroked Evan's cheekbone.
Evan hummed an affirmative, and lazily kissed one of Charlton's palms. Then he saw the fat, dark spire of Charlton's length, veined and hard with Charlton's pulse, his heavy sack huge and loose. Evan nuzzled into the soft skin at the base of the cock, reveled in the dark, deep earthiness of the bull's virile scent.
"You wanna take care of me, baby?" cooed Charlton. Evan nodded and gave a tiny kitten lick to the bull's balls. Charlton grasped the cat's head in steady, powerful, gentle hands. "Alright," he rumbled, a hungry glint in his eye, "open up."
Evan did, and Charlton fed his dick down the wildcat's well-practiced throat. It was an easy, smooth slide - especially after Evan's having nursed it for hours - though it had been a semi at the most, not the quickly-becoming-fully-erect dick curling down his throat now.
"Fuck, Evan," Charlton growled, low and throaty, "your throat's as good as any pussy I've ever had," and then he fully hilted into Evan's mouth. Evan's face was pressed right into the musky softness of his pubic hair, and his balls laid against the cat's chin. Evan moaned at the praise and reached a paw up to cup the full sack in front of it, feeling its heft, the size of it - the source of all Charlton's masculinity; his broad muscle, his scent, all of it originated here. Evan's own cock - far smaller - throbbed in his pants.
The hands in his hair tightened, then drew his skull back, then forward again. Evan kept his throat open and his breath steady as Charlton began to fuck his face, his chin growing wet with saliva and pre.
"God, such a good boy, such a good mouth for me to fuck." Charlton's voice was lost in a low, animal rumble, and he began to thrust into Evan's mouth with abandon, his cock thick and filling in Evan's throat, his balls slapping wetly against Evan's chin. Then, with one final thrust, Charlton shoved Evan's face into his pubes, and his ample balls tightened, and he came, heavy and messy, down Evan's throat.
The wildcat swallowed around him as best he could, but Charlton's orgasms were long and productive - some of it oozed from Evan's mouth, dripping in thick rivulets from his lips down to his neck, spotting his shirt and the carpet below. He felt the bull's thick flare scrape the back of his throat - his mouth was just another cunt for the bull, another wet, slick hole to fill with fertile seed. Charlton's hand came down to rub at his throat, the bull's thick, rough fingers trailing down his neck while his Adam's apple jerked, while his flare bulged inside - the sound of swallowing that much come and spit was wet and filthy.
Evan moaned - he realized he'd been palming his dick for a while unconsciously, and he felt himself let go, spurting hard into the sweats he'd worn, a wet spot forming where his hand was.
"There you go," said Charlton, low and sweet, "there's my good boy, hmm? Getting off from a dick down your throat, god, aren't you a perfect little slut." The praise kept up as Charlton slipped his cock out of Evan's mouth, a string of saliva following it from Evan's overworked, sore mouth. Evan panted as the bull reached under his arms and pulled him up into his lap, as he pet at Evan's mouth, as he took out a soft towel and began to clean the sticky mess off of Evan's face.
Evan let himself be taken care of.