Christmas at Warlock Court part 2

Story by TheFieldmarshall on SoFurry

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#2 of Wasted youth

Bruno proves to be less shy in the bedroom than out of it as the teenage boys enjoy each others company on Christmas Eve.


Anar nodded back, lost in a fog, his eager body virtually crying out for relief in whatever form it took. He felt fingers fumble at his button and zip. Felt the ease of pressure as his erection was freed from its confining prison within his underwear and then he blushed even more at the realisation that that was him basically exposing himself to a stranger. Bruno's muzzle was so close to his snout that his fine whiskers brushed against him, tickling. He opened his mouth to try and speak but velvet lips locked onto his and he shuddered as a tongue slipped through into his mouth, hot and probing. He closed his eyes and simply let it happen, returning the embrace with his own long aardvarkian muscle. He grabbed at Bruno's firm backside, pulling him up on top of his trembling frame, not quite sure what he was trying to achieve but going with it anyway. The weight of him on top was triggering him in undiscovered ways. Kissing a boy, he decided, was almost identical to kissing a girl.

"You kiss nice," Bruno growled softly, pulling back then rolling his lips down Anar's neck delicately.

"I do?" he continued kneading the ample rear through thick trouser fabric. Well he didn't have breasts, it was this or his dick and he wasn't brave enough to try touching that just yet thank you very much. What would his uncle think if he knew he was fooling around with his girlfriend's son? Not that this was his idea! It was Bruno who wanted him to sit on the bed looking through porn magazines. He'd planned on getting the RC Ferrari out and playing with that to kill some time before bed but nooo. Incisors grazed at his flesh as Bruno nudged his jumper's collar aside and gnawed gently on his shoulder. He groaned softly again. Fuck! Such an embarassing noise.

Bruno sensed his nervousness and kissed at his neck again, murmuring that it was alright to enjoy it. For a quiet shy guy who he'd labelled mentally as a stuck up sad case he sure was skilled in the art of arousing other boys! Anar's hips rolled firmly upwards in a brazen attempt at stimulating a rather overexcited part of his male anatomy. This wasn't lost on Bruno neither. He pushed back with a fluid motion. Anar really wanted to hump something right about now. Paws pushed down upon his chest, pinning him to the bed and the dog boy's head came back up to look at him again. He was so cute, so fluffy, so sweet and yet this was a dog that absolutely knew what he wanted from Anar no matter if he was ready or not, "you want play? You want touch?" he asked breathlessly, rubbing his obvious bulge against Anar's erection.

"I really don't know," he squeaked honestly. Did he?

"You want to cum?" this question came with a sneer.

"Yes!"

"So me too," Bruno tilted his muzzle and his delight was clear as his long-eared partner lunged for fresh kisses. "Undress me," he moaned, his tail wagging eagerly.

With slow and deliberate movements Anar slipped his hands onto Bruno's sweatshirt hem and raised it up, revealing more dark brown pelt, dense and soft against his fingers as they brushed it leaving tracks. He almost reached round for a bra clasp out of habit but stopped himself. Bruno pulled away and dipped his head to allow the item of clothing to slide off. He wiggled his hips and smiled toothily, "I like. I like you, I like how you make me happy. You are very sexy."

Compliments always made Anar feel good; he pulled at the dog's trousers with bolder motions throwing his fears aside, what was the worst that could really happen? He was a guy with a dick and he wanted to have some fun. It was a thing they had in common. He'd never touched another guy's cock before but there was a first time for everything, right? His hands yanked the trousers down as far as they could which wasn't far considering Bruno's hands were still pushing down on his chest but the Alsatian wriggled them down manually anyway. Anar kept his eyes firmly up, not yet brave enough to get an eyeful of dog dick, instead letting his fingers roll down his soft cotton briefs and enable it to spring out unseen. Bruno huffed and murred as he reluctantly took his paws away and undressed the aardvark similarly. Unlike Anar though, he was very interested in what he'd got between his grey thighs and moved his head down to inspect it closely. It was a strange feeling - hoping Bruno liked what he saw and also mildly fantasising about him taking it in his mouth. He'd had similar notions involving Rap before, sometimes when he was jacking off. The more he thought about it, the more he worried that he wasn't as straight as he wanted to be. Not that there was anything wrong with liking other guys. Of course not. He felt heat and a wet tongue licking at him and damn near lost it there and then, yelping swear words a little too loudly for comfort and feeling his cock jerk madly against Bruno's soft lips. His girlfriend had given him hand jobs but had never treated him to oral - he wasn't sure how to feel about the first tongue touching his cock being Bruno's but it was too late to worry about that now, the act was done. With a slight wobble in his voice he gave a clear warning that if he did that again then things were going to get very messy indeed. Bruno gave a big grin, "ja, I would like that!" and once more laid his velvety strap of a tongue along Anar's hard grey length, drawing it up and over his pre-cum soaked tip. He felt the air exit his lungs in one blow as he came, hard with a great snort from his nostrils. Ah fuck! More embarassing noises! He pumped the dog boy's long muzzle full of his thin young seed until it leaked out of the corner of his jaw, dribbling down onto his furry chin. Anar hadn't had chance to wank himself off much since he'd arrived earlier in the week; Mortimer had kept him busy with festive activities and odd jobs around the estate; he'd actually felt tired at bedtime for the first time since his summer stay here. He'd been quite ready for release and having it in this brand new experience gave him an even greater sense of satisfaction. His chest heaved and his heart hammered as he came down slowly from his euphoria, "I suppose you'd like me to do the same, yeah?" he asked.

Bruno licked along his jawline to savor every drop of Anar's essence. He nodded, laid down and displayed his rather unusual dogcock. Well it was unusual to Anar anyway, he'd never really seen anyone elses. It wasn't the done thing to look at them after all, even at the urinal you were expected to stare at the inch of wall in front of you and back in the showers at High school it was a strict one in one out system to prevent any funny business. Bruno stroked at himself and coaxed his shy bedmate towards him. Anar steadied his breathing, laid his hands gently upon his dog's thickly furred sheath and dipped his head feeling nervous to have his first taste of another guy's dick. He closed his eyes as though that would make this less gay somehow. He darted out his marvellously long tongue and Bruno's intimate flesh felt searingly hot against it. Part of him wanted to do a brilliant job of getting the dog off and part of him was not looking forward to having his mouth full of cum. As he dragged his muscle along the bright pink hard member in front of him the fears melted away at the wonderful noises he could hear with his slender ears. Bruno was loving it. A lot. He felt him jerk and twitch. Then a paw softly caressed his head and ruffed his black dyed hair - Anar was naturally grey and that wasn't a good look for a seventeen year old of any race. The paw slammed down, forcing Anar to take Bruno's length in his mouth fully and the dog pushed up with his hips, a low quiet howl following it. A brief moment of sheer terror flickered in the aardvark's mind and then he accepted his predicament, decided Bruno's cock tasted and felt quite nice actually and he wrapped his tongue around it tight and sucked like he knew what he was doing, his big nostrils flaring as his snout dug into sumptuously soft groin fur. He rolled his hands around the thick sheath hoping it felt nice for him. If he was going to do this he was going to do it good and proper! The more he suckled the louder the moans came and the harder the cock in his mouth jerked and twitched until with a yelp he felt hot salty liquid coat the roof of his mouth and Anar screwed his eyes up very tightly trying not to gag or spit or dribble. This had truly been an experience. A good one? He wasn't sure yet, but an experience nonetheless. He swallowed Bruno's thick potent load with a loud gulp and the paw withdrew from atop his head, moving to his cheek where it stroked affectionately. Cum, Anar decided, tasted pretty funky. Salty and bitter and a bit off. He needed a Coke to wash his mouth out.

Bruno stretched and reached out for him, pulling him into his dense glossy coat tilting his head for more kisses. He murmured quietly as they lay together, "you are so lovely, I neffer expected to find such cute boy here this Christmas, you are like best gift ever."

He could feel the dog boy's thumping heart beneath his hands, could taste each others spunk mingling in their mouths as they slid their tongues around to explore oral cavities. He dipped his head in agreement; he'd never expected to find a cute boy this Christmas neither. It made him happy that he had made Bruno happy. Happiness had come to him in such micro doses that every drop was to be treasured. Oh sure, he had stuff, he had things and they could make you happy for a while but it wasn't a patch on the kind of emotions that being close to someone who desired you could bring. Crap he really missed his girlfriend. Had he really been such a disappointment to her that she couldn't have stayed with him just a while longer? It wasn't his fault he was a bit of an asshole, it was how he'd been raised. A product of his upbringing. He kissed harder as the sad thoughts that lived in the darkness of his psyche came gulping up for air. This was supposed to be the most wonderful time of the year! Glad tidings and shit. Snow and holly and presents and lovely warm soft dogboys with tickly whiskers and floofy butts and waggy tails and bright red cocks... ok he'd gone off on a horny tangent with that one. Thick arms wrapped around him almost as if Bruno knew that it was what he needed to soothe his soul so desperately. Some things couldn't be escaped from - for him that was a future spent working in the underworld and for Bruno it was an American city college studying law when he wanted excitement.

Anar could give him some excitement! He gave one last big squeeze of the lovely dog boy and pulled his lips away, shifting onto his side, still very much naked but not minding so much now, "would you like to meet my pet cat? You can play with him and everything. He's really cool I promise!"

Gorgeous bright green eyes lit up, "ja! I would luff to see kitty."

Oh boy, yeah, this was going to be great! Little fluffy kitty- ha! "Guen!" he yelled out commandingly. Down the hallway a mighty thump could be heard and then rhythmic drumbeats sounded out on the wooden floorboards. The door was shoved open with a primal roar and the most beautiful black panther leapt up onto the bed with them, rolling and purring madly; it's coat was abyssal black with the searing glow of a million stars. Guen was a truly magical creature, residing for the most part within the astral plane of existence.

Bruno's reaction was everything that Anar had hoped for; a mix of recoiling fear and awestruck fascination, raw cold terror and sheer admiration. He wanted to reach out and pet the kitty but the clear and present threat of curving ivory fangs and huge razor claws prevented him.

"Guen, this is my friend Bruno. You're to be nice to him, ok?"

Guen rumbled and swiped playfully with a massive paw. Anar dug into his belly fur to scritch him just as he liked, "rub his chin, he likes that," he suggested.

Bruno looked at the cat, then at Anar, then back at the cat. He wasn't so sure that was a good idea. The panther was taking up the most space out of all of them and had inserted himself right in the middle, wriggling and growling for attention. "You haff any more pets?" the dog asked, his ears pricking.

"No, you're alright, this is it now. So far anyway," Anar added as there was always the chance something else could find him in the future. "I won him at the fair you know."

Bruno blew air from his lips, "jaaaa, pull other leg!"

"No, it's true. I told you, my magic's really weird like that, stuff just happens to me. I won a plushie and it came to life. He sits on top of my wardrobe as a cuddly toy most of the time while this form-" he rubbed Guen's belly some more - "spends time in another dimension." He frowned, "he's the reason my parents kicked me out last summer. I can keep Rap and Rave away from them in the forest quite happily but Guen likes to hang out with me in the house occasionally and scares the crap out of my little shit of a brother. It was good fun too until father got cross. God my brother's such a tosspot. He's going to be an angel you know. Father wants a contact on the other side, though I'm sure Hell's upper management is encouraging it. I tried to tell Edward that father is just going to use him but he's such a prick he won't believe me, thinks it's all part of my demon training to wind him up. I hope the both of them get what's coming to them."

The black astral panther purred deeply as the two boys rubbed and fussed at him, Bruno becoming more relaxed as his paws sank into sparkling fur and smiled at the cat's long whippish tail as it flicked at him playfully.

"You know, we should really get dressed before one of those claws catches something unfortunate," Anar frowned as Guen's paw swiped again for attention.

Bruno agreed, reluctantly pausing attending to the magical beast to pull on his pants and trousers. "Did you enjoy?" he blurted, bundling up his jumper before pulling it over his triangular ears. He emerged dishevelled and wagging hopefully.

"Erm," Anar looked at the floor in a search for his Ellesse sweatshirt; he knew exactly where it was but wanted a moment to think. Honesty didn't come easily to him, another result of all that hideous demon training; but he was bad, he was a rebel and ironically that led to a conscious effort to try and be truthful, "I don't know, Bruno. I've never done anything like that. With a dude I mean, you know..." he felt his cheeks grow hot again. The dogboy's tail stopped wagging. "Oh fuck, alright, yeah I did, ok? But I still like girls too. I'm not- I'm not like super gay or anything."

Guen had grown bored of the conversation that didn't involve him and roared for more attention.

"Anar?! Is that your cat? I asked you to keep him away for Christmas!"

Uncle Mortimer had finally shouted at him; all was right with the world, "yes, uncle! Sorry, uncle! It's just for tonight, uncle!" he turned to Bruno and smirked, "I'm not really sorry. Monty thinks he'll go and eat his livestock again. It was only one sheep one time I dunno what all the fuss is about."

"Well alright, but he can stay upstairs with you until bedtime. I don't want him upsetting Gloria. There's glühwein going if you'd like to partake."

Anar looked at Bruno, "Glue wine? Eurgh! What the-"

"Nein, nein is hot wine, sweet delicious. Yummi!" Bruno laughed, shaking his head at the aardvark's misunderstanding.

"You're fucking yummy," he breathed still thinking of how all that soft fur had felt on top of his bare body. If he thought about it any longer he'd make himself hard again. Guen bumped his big head on his shoulder and knocked him backwards providing a welcome distraction.

Bruno got a face full of tail and pulled a face, padding it away, "silly kitty."

They promised the magical creature they would be back soon and descended the staircase to find the offered alcoholic beverage.

The baroness - Gloria was sat by the fire which was burning brightly thanks to the pile of logs that Anar had brought in earlier. The flames reflected on her pretty necklace that hung down and that was where his eyes abruptly diverted before he got an eyeful of ample cleavage; the Alsatian lady had changed into a rather lovely red dress that had plenty of fabric below the waist and not much on top. He accepted his glass cup of hot glueywine and snuck glances as he sipped, each time feeling a thump of bloodflow as he tried to keep up a conversation about Christmas traditions and how they were different in Germany. Gloria was telling him that ordinarily they would have opened their gifts this evening and Anar did his best not to say that it was a bloody brilliant idea and could he open his now, please? All while trying his best not to fantasise about unwrapping the baroness and burying his snout in those mighty mammaries. Mortimer had to go and ruin it all by sitting next to her and putting his hand on her thigh. Bastard.

Bruno gave him a nudge and lifted an eye quizzically.

"I'm fine," he lied. Crap it really was too easy to be untruthful. Then Bruno slipped his hand onto his thigh and he nearly spat out his drink.

"Are you alright, dear?" she asked as her son smacked him on the back firmly.

"No! I think I need to get to bed. It's been a long day," he coughed.

"I will come," Bruno made to rise from the seat.

"You stay here with your mum, yeah?" Anar begged, not feeling up to taking any more surprises today.

He left the room and gently leaned on the outside wall collecting himself. What if his mum had seen him put his hand on him? What if his mum had seen him getting an eyeful of her chest? Christmas wasn't meant to be sexy! Christmas was meant to be pyjamas and dressing gowns all day, fighting over the tv remote, refusing to go to bed when told, trying to asphyxiate your younger brother with the tinsel (Edward never learned) and sneaking a finger under the sellotape on the gifts that had been foolishly left under the tree to get a peak. Christmas was eating all the chocolates on the tree but leaving the wrappers intact to delay the inevitable shitstorm when mother discovered his antics, it was hoping one of his new toys would give Edward nightmares like that gross looking Madball he got a few years ago that he'd leave lying around for the little snot to freak out over. Christmas was refusing to open the door to carol singers until your younger brother insists that it's probably his friends from school and father reluctantly throws them a fiver with a grimace. Christmas was hoping for snow like the lying cards that you received in the post from your parents old schoolfriends showed and instead hearing the familiar sound of steady drizzle against the window panes. It was not drinking hot red wine laced with suspicious flavourings by a roaring open fire while a sexy teenage dogboy slipped his hand on your leg and your uncle's posh bird had her tits out on display!

Conversation struck up and his long grey ears perked, nosey to a fault.

"Is he alright, Mortimer dear? He seems a little... disturbed?"

"I'm not surprised, my brother's not fit to be a father by any stretch. He only had Anar to try and get one up on me, and that backfired on him."

"What do you mean?"

"It's... not for now my dear."

"Oh. I see. Bruno, I think it's time for you to head to bed now mein kleiner junge."

"Ja mutter."

Anar had the impossible task of getting up the stairs both quickly and quietly all while his pulse was racing at this tantalising tidbit of information he'd surreptitiously gleaned from his eavesdropping. What had that been about? How had him being born been an attempt to get one over on Mortimer? Why? And when he said it had backfired...

Taking off his trainers and sneaking up to the next floor on his socked feet he then coaxed Guen from out of Bruno's room while slipping the copy of Ponygirl under an arm. The cat padded obediently by his side back to his private space and jumped back atop the wardrobe where he sat in his plushie form. Anar drew the curtains and clicked on his table lamp. A shrill jingly tune emitted from the front pocket of his backpack; his Tamagotchi was dying again. Sounded happy about it too. Bloody thing. Every time he resurrected it he'd swear he'd feed it and pet it every few hours and play with it and sure enough a week later he'd completely forgotten about it until the happy beeps announced its inevitable demise.

He shook his head and ignored it. It glingled again. He took the battery out, reaching as far as he could with his arm to trap the top loop of his Kangol bag to drag it towards him with a black painted nail while balancing precariously on the deep posh mattress, too lazy to leave the comfort of the bed. He emptied the remaining contents while he was at it; chewing gum, Pokemon cards, loose change, a half pack of Marlboro cigarettes and UV reactive lighter with googly eyes stuck on it, various mix tapes he'd acquired through locker theft, talon polish, hair gel, Lynx Africa deodorant, several bottles of Tab clear which was basically colourless Coke, Opal fruits sweets and bags of Haribo, Snickers bars that used to be called Marathon and nobody really knew why it changed, his Sony walkman and earphones which were tangled up again as was their way followed by a whole shedload of batteries to power his gadgets. What he was really after was the heaviest item to tip out; a bottle of blue raspberry MD 20/20 that he'd managed to get his filthy mitts on back at College by paying an older advanced studies student a shocking sum of cash. He'd saved it for tonight. He knew he could have any of Mortimers fine whiskey if he only asked but there was no fun in that. He'd been trained to enjoy illicit indulgencies after all, waiting until legal age was for losers. He unscrewed it and took a sniff. It smelled of sugar and regret. Oh well. Taking a gulp, it tasted of sugar and regret too. Would have been more fun with Rap and Rave. Bruno probably wouldn't touch the stuff with a six foot pole; he'd enjoyed his gluey wine. Bruno probably wouldn't smoke neither. Not with a nice mother like that to raise him properly. He took another swig of the blue booze and stuck his headphones on, listening to Chloes Mix tape 2 - whoever the fuck Chloe was. The writing on the insert was abysmal, like a spider on crack fucked a fountain pen. Pressing play gave him an earful of Green Day. It was acceptable. Swigging with a grimace and lighting up a Marlboro he let his thoughts go back to the conversation he'd overheard downstairs. He'd been told bits and pieces of his family's history by uncle Mortimer since he met him last summer, once old Monty had seen Destroyer return to his full form in his presence he had changed from a disinterested long lost relative to an enthusiastic friend who encouraged him to explore the house and grounds to his hearts content, promising that it would be left to him in his will if he so wished. It all seemed a bit heavy at the time. What kind of teenage boy wanted a crumbly old building and smelly farm to go with it? He'd done the exploring though and oh boy had he found some interesting stuff - like the metal room with the strange control panel with the funny writing on it and the star charts on the wall. He'd have loved to ask about it but... he'd sort of accidentally (though not really) broken down the door to get in because it was the only door on the whole third floor with a lock and he'd been nosey. Sure to get in trouble for that! There had been an old faded gold-framed portrait of a Warlock ancestor with blue glowy orbs in his hands that had made him feel weird when he looked at it. Then there had been the book. Anar, as has been mentioned, was not a fan of reading. Pictures yes, words no. This book sat on the top floor in one of the towers in a glass case. It looked old. It looked tatty. There was a mark on one edge that could be blood or Hellfire and he didn't want to find out which. The Book of Warlock. He had mentioned the picture and book to Mortimer and his uncle had tried to explain a little of the family history but Anar could tell that there were bits he either didn't understand himself or he felt he wasn't ready to divulge.

A long time ago, an anthropomorphic aardvark General had led an army overseen by a skaven warlord known as Nisgarant. The General had refused to follow an order for some reason and attempted to turn the army against this rat dude who was having none of it and stabbed his ancestor with a magical artifact. Instead of killing him, the magic in the stabby thing had fused with his blood and he became naturally magical which was basically unheard of and so the first Warlock had come to be. The magical bloodline followed and their power was so great that they caused a lot of trouble everywhere they went until the Council of Sorcerers put a stop to it by cursing the family for five hundred years or something like that. It was all in the book but no one could read it any more so it was all a bit of a muddle, instead the story had been passed down by word of mouth and we all know how that goes. Anar was the first magical child since all that had happened forever ago. It didn't explain the metal room that looked like it was fresh out of Star Trek, it didn't explain why the portrait was so fucking weird to look at, it didn't explain why a vast estate with eye-watering overheads was funded by one single person who didn't have a paid job and it certainly didn't explain why part of the western side of the building glowed in the dark but it did explain why the ancient manuscript was being protected in the tower and hadn't been sold off like a lot of the antiquities that used to fill the place: one day someone in the family would be able to read it. Mortimer had unlocked the thick glass protective cover with much ceremony and Anar had took a deep breath when the frail embossed book was gently opened. He hadn't understood a word. It was all gibberish BUT it was gibberish just like the control panel. That he couldn't really tell Mortimer about because he'd destroyed a door to find it. Sometimes he wished he had told him, not that it would achieve anything but just to get it off his chest. That small part of him that tried to rebel by being decent.

His walkman clicked. He didn't feel like turning the tape over.

This summer just gone Mortimer had let slip a few choice words about Anar's father - Monty's younger brother. How he'd refused to believe a single word of the family history, refused to believe there was such a thing as natural magic, people couldn't contain it only things or objects, how he was determined to become a powerful demon in the underworld and wield arcane power that way. How he'd left Warlock Court and washed his hands of it all declaring Mortimer a nutcase for believing in fairy stories just as Bruno had laughed at the story of Cinder Claws the dragon. Well fair enough that was just a silly tale told by parents to keep the kids behaving at Christmas time. Anar however was very real and the magic in his blood was there even if it was rather weak; lacking in both potency and accuracy.

The tap of footsteps outside his door pulled him from his musings. Mortimer wished him goodnight and looked forward to seeing him in the morning. Anar's head was spinning a little from the contents of the bottle that was now two thirds empty and he responded as soberly as he could. Back at home he'd communicate via a series of grunts but here he at least tried to be a little respectful. After all if Monty threw him out he'd really be up shit creek. To think all those years ago he'd be tucked up in bed on Christmas Eve too excited to sleep, hoping for loads of cool toys to play with on the big day and now it all seemed like a lot of fuss over nothing. Still wanted that SNES though.

He picked up the PonyGirl magazine and had another flick through, his thoughts turning to carnal desires and plump pony tits, round smooth arses and manes that were just begging for a good pull. Tails too. He pulled at his button and zip, pushing down his soft black briefs to give his growing hard-on some fresh air. One of the fillies was bending over in sheer thigh-high hold-ups and he grinned at his inner joke involving stocking fillers. He'd give an anthro pony a gift alright, all over their pretty muzzle until it dripped down onto their chest leaving a trail right between heaving breasts as a large pink tongue lapped at him to make sure he'd spent every last drop. Or he'd harness one up and give them a real mounting; climb on that backside and just bury himself deep in a cavernous dripping pony pussy while yanking on that lovely flowing hair to keep her backing up onto him as he just railed her stupid, buckles jingling all over the place and the feel of the leather tail crupper rubbing on his thighs. Merry fucking Christmas! Slap that flank and giddy up. Get the riding crop out and whip her into a frenzy. Aw fuck yeah, ponies were made for bondage with all that lovely tack to bind them up with, shove a bit in their mouth and take charge while heaving on the reins and pounding the everloving shit out of them. He shuffled his clothing off and kicked it onto the floor taking his dick in his grey hand and giving it a proper firm tug imagining taking a flirty filly of his own for a good time; just imagining the size of those fucking thighs and that wide backside as he made her neigh and snort in excitement on his bed as he buried his snout in folds of equine cunt and lapped at that dripping slit until she was begging for him to breed her like a filthy slut. Pulling himself up her barrel belly while stuffing his big hard dick inside her until she bucked and moaned... his cock jerked in his hand and he blew through his nostrils as globs of hot cum spurted out onto his abdomen. Fuck yeah he'd show a pony girl a fine time alright. He lay panting slightly, grateful he hadn't got any sticky mess on the magazine; he'd keep it given the chance. His thoughts immediately turned to Bruno and he wondered if he was having a wank before bed too, he certainly wasn't as shy in the bedroom as he was out of it that was for sure. Such a cute fluffy bastard with that fucking accent that he was really enjoying hearing. He'd like to sneak him away at some point tomorrow for some more fun together, after all he wasn't going to be around long and he had to make the most of him and Anar would probbly never look at another guy again. Yeah Bruno was a one-off, the chances of finding another guy who got his pulse racing were like a million to one or something, better chance of the X-Files aliens being real you know? He yawned and cleaned up with a tissue, popping the literature in his bedside locker nice and safe for tomorrow, clicking off the lamp and curling up naked under the thick warm bed cover feeling content and wondering what tomorrow would bring. Hopefully that SNES!