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LomiDePuzlo

Amanda had told the truth. There was no doubt about that: she had plenty of ideas for what to do with, and to, Lolo today. The Locus in front of her still squirmed and twitched beneath her gentle, careful attention, each little nip along his rump or smooch to the base of his tail making him shiver and shudder all over again.

She loved that. The squirrel worked an arm down beneath her own body and half-turned so that she could attend to herself a bit, a noticeable wet spot having seeped into the bed underneath her. She grinned, rolled onto her other side, and lifted those same fingers to her mouth, just to add her own taste to the mix of Lolo's that swirled around in there.

Then, though, right as he glanced back at her through half-lidded, pleasure-fogged eyes, she smiled again, swallowed - then did so again past the combined slickness - and leaned in. Instead of purse her lips right against his tailhole and give another gentle, sucking kiss, though, she wrapped a forefinger and thumb around his hanging sack, pulled them back and down towards her muzzle, and watched the way the skin tautened and the balls pulled together. Smooth and soft, supple... she leaned in, pressed her nose into the warmth in between, then nuzzled up, lips and tongue soon to follow.

She knew that that felt good already, and Lolo's immediate response refreshed the idea in her mind. His hips jerked and tugged up, so the squirrel dove down and repeated the lick, then again, and again, each time loosening her grip a bit until his balls hung down free and loose. Other paw back in place beneath her body, she gripped onto his thigh and focused there, guiding his sack over and around and along her muzzle with her nose before pulling him closer on her tongue, slicking and slurping over the loose skin. At one point she managed to wrap one of those balls in against her lips, and with just a little bit of suction managed to pull it into her mouth - with the second soon to follow.

Amanda closed her eyes, deeply enjoying the sensation and the knowledge, and then the pleasure that it gave Lolo as well. The Locus squirmed and lowered himself down, trying to squeeze more of himself into her muzzle: already she had to relax her jaw to fit him in, and she could feel those balls pressing out along her cheeks, rolling back and forth over her tongue, lifting up against the roof of her mouth. Amanda swallowed once around his sack, then again, and again - and climbed up a little bit further, sucking and slurping as she went, until her lips pressed up against the base of his sack.

Once there she breathed out a little huff of pleasure and amusement, his saliva-slickened tailhole winking and clenching against her nose, and then the deeper, fuller pulses of his arousal through his length, palpable back here along the base. There she remained for a moment, just suckling and rolling him back and forth in her mouth, before she drew back across his sack, gently tugging it to its limit again before dropping it free from her mouth.

Still, though, she wasn't done, and she wouldn't be for a while. The taste of the Locus fresh in her mouth, Amanda swallowed, dove in towards his tailhole again, and this time started a trail of kisses there and all the way down, to nuzzle up beneath and between his now saliva-soaked balls all over again. If she pushed her nose forward enough and angled him down with a thumb, she could wrap her lips along the underside of his hard cock as well, each twitch and throb causing him to slap upwards against his belly.

"Is that good?" she purred, muzzle held at an angle so that his sack draped across her cheek. The warmth emanating from inside was just divine, and with his musk wafting down and over her nose... she swallowed, turned a little further, and again drew one of his balls between her lips, marveling at the way the loose, supple skin stretched and pulled to accommodate. That same forefinger and thumb she used to first cup and tug at his hanging sack she now ran up and down, up and down his length, resisting and pulling against the rhythmic throbs - which, again, she could feel reverberating down here, the buried base of his length pulsing in rhythm with his tailhole.

Lolo licked his lips, swallowed, and sighed, once more spreading his legs out and lowering himself down further. "Yeah, I..." For a moment his words fizzled away into a low, rumbling moan, beneath the squirrel letting him free again and then letting her tongue dance around along the back of his sack and the up along the spot between its base and his tailhole. Once there she swallowed again, tilted her head, then clamped her lips around that spot - which immediately pulled a throb and pulse out of him - and sucked there, still lightly, gently working at his shaft with her other paw. "Oh, man..."

It was such a small, soft thing, sucking and kissing at this spot between his rump and his sack, yet every pulse of his pleasure came through so strongly, so obviously. Each throb from his shaft bounced up along here, then culminated in a wink and shiver from his tailhole so close to her muzzle; Amanda smiled through her ministrations and dug in a little deeper, pressing her lips in around the lump there, flicking her tongue back and forth, sucking and swallowing.

He was getting close. She could tell. She brought him to the edge right there, so careful with her finger and thumb, trying not to push too far - and then just as he tensed up, just as Lolo gripped at the sheets and gritted his teeth, she drew back again, slurped his sack back in along her tongue, and tugged - and felt each throb and pulse as his balls tried to pull back in towards his body, as he dumped spurt after spurt of tense pleasure and pressure out against the mattress beneath him. The squirrel watched, quite proud, as his tailhole echoed the rhythm of his finish, pulsing and winking with a thick drip of her saliva rolling down one of the ridges.

Then, finally, she drew back again, and this time let his ball hang and swing as they dripped with her drool. That made for quite a good start.

Peegus

Vexa squirmed and angled her muzzle away from effect, when in reality she tried her best to keep her eyes fixed forward and down on the task presented before her. At least the male couldn't quite see her from here, and - she glanced up and saw him above her, rump pushed back and down against her muzzle, rear spread beneath both paws, and then, of course, a flash of bright eyes as he looked down over his shoulder at her. She couldn't see his mouth, but still she could tell a smirk painted that damn face.

The other hunter rolled his fingers in closer, squeezed, and tugged, then pressed back again - and managed to kiss the pucker of his tailhole, bulging and pursing out with a push from inside, right against her lips. Soft, ridged skin pushed and slid there just before Vexa pulled herself away.

"C'mon," Kopa rumbled, self-satisfaction clearly audible in his voice. Vexa watched and this time felt again as he intentionally, deliberately worked that pucker, tightening it up against him and then pushing it out again, ring of muscle hidden just beneath wrinkled skin pulsing, pulling, tugging. It was all for her sake, and she hated that even though she tried to turn away, even though she plastered this disgust on her muzzle, she couldn't help but look again and again. "This was your idea. And we're here now, so..."

Vexa was hoping he wouldn't mention that. She grumbled, wrapped her arms in around his thighs again, and then rather forcefully pulled him back down and along her muzzle, trying to give him a bit of pride and grandeur about the whole thing. I said I would, so here I am, giving my all. That'll show you. Right? Really, there was nearly no shame or disgust whatsoever from her - that was all just a forced reaction, to keep up with her own appearances - and she already knew that Kopa knew.

But they still didn't speak of it. The other leopard, kneeling down over her chest - he pushed himself forward and back, dragging the soft, supple warmth of his sack along her breasts as he went - adjusted his grip on his rump, gave another push, and pressed against her lips, and only jumped a little bit when Vexa sealed her mouth around his rim and sucked gently.

That was one of the things that he had done to her, and... the leopardess closed her eyes and gripped more firmly onto the other hunter's legs, Kopa seeming to maintain this gruff detachment just like her, even though he kept himself carefully balanced so as not to crush her beneath his weight. She remained there for a moment, lips fucked and jaw working, then drew her tongue up and forward, traced over those wrinkled ridges, felt the tension and pleasure there... then forced herself to rear back again, mouth coming free with a gentle pop. A string of thick saliva hung between her lips and his tailhole; she lapped it off and sucked it down before he could turn to look.

"Gods - I swear," the huntress growled, "like I said, it's fine when it's my own. But when it's someone else's?"

"Yeah, yeah." Kopa grinded back again, rubbing and wiping his now saliva-smeared pucker against her lips. Once more she flicked her tongue out and over and dove in for another kiss and suck, even though she deliberately tried to prevent herself from doing so. One downside of having him like this was that, after he had pinned her down to the forest floor here, it had been embarrassingly easy for him to flip her loincloth up to take a look, touch, and taste at what she had going on underneath. This meant she wouldn't be the only one who could tell that all of this worked only to turn her on further, the humid heat growing there, seeping in through her fur, dripping down. "I'm a cat, too. I can do it myself. But I'd-" Another grunt and push, another pucker against her lips, the rim of his tailhole coming out nearly far enough for her to run her tongue along the exterior. "-rather you do it for me..."

So she did, though not without another series of grumbles and complaints for good measure. One arm remained around his thigh while the other ran down her body, trying to make off as though she were scratching at an itchy spot along her lower belly - but then Kopa reached down, caught her wrist, and guided her paw to its proper position, right there between her legs. Vexa twitched and sighed, breath reflected back across her muzzle from this little spot just beneath his tail, and continued her work there. She felt him clench and tense and relax in rhythm with her attention, her little kisses and swirls and sucks, and after a while she almost expected him to work his thumbs in between her lips, to sink them up into himself and pull that ring open, to have her do the same to the slick, soft interior flesh as well. Vexa closed her eyes, by now lost in her focus on him as well as how she pressed her other fingers between her own legs, palm and knuckles soaked through and streaked with her arousal, and then - twitched, as a splash of heat pulsed out across her chest.

That couldn't be right. For a moment she paused, lips still pursed around his crowning tailhole, and then realized what was going on. The pushing and grunting, and now the slow, gentle sigh... she reached up and in with her arm around his thigh, brushed her fingers against the base of his sheath and sack, and then felt there, in a faint sensation through the underside of his shaft, the way he emptied his bladder out and across her chest. For a moment the leopardess couldn't believe it - but when she gave a squeeze and stroke and slid the flat of her tongue up across his partially-opened tailhole again. This time it was easy to push in between the parted ring and dig into squeezing, supple flesh inside, but as soon as she did it winked back around her again with his stream, now at full force, giving a buck, spray, and briefly pinching off before continuing again.

Only for a short time, but still Kopa leaned into it, legs now spread around her head so he could at once push his rump down on her and mark the entire front of her body, one of his paws over hers to angle himself down. He thought he had more to give: that was obvious in how he grinded and strained against her, how his tailhole pulsed and puckered and blossomed against her tongue with his pushing, and how his mark dwindled down to a dribble, sprayed out again, then again, and then nothing, even though he still pushed and strained.

A little buck, and a shiver, and then suddenly Kopa clenched up against her lips again. Vexa drew back, swallowed, felt and tasted the slime of his tail in her throat, and moved to wipe at her mouth, though intentionally used the same paw that she just had between her legs.

"You done?" she growled. It came out as more of a purr, unfortunately.

Kopa took a moment to catch his breath. "No. Are you?"

Daet Wolfuar

Lukas had been waiting all week to come here, and now that the hour had finally come, he found his anticipation and nervousness to melt away beneath relief and excitement and... a shiver ran up his back and he tilted his muzzle away, eyes closing for a moment so that he could draw in the myriad scents of the atmosphere. It was a small, nondescript place on the outside, a building wedged between some others in one of the back-roads off the main street, but once inside, everything about it changed.

Basic brick walls and cement floors opened up into a lavish, luxurious interior, floors alternating between thickly carpeted and then coated with smooth hardwood, the walls carved in sections, painted, bearing decorative alcoves overflowing with plants and displays. A hell of an atmosphere, by far the best that he had ever encountered for an... establishment such as this, but it was the clientele, the product and presentation itself, that drew the otter in over everything else.

He turned his head the other way again and followed one of the workers as he went by, a broad-shouldered, well-defined wolf with fur trimmed in all the right ways to accentuate and embellish his already built form. Upon his shoulder he carried a platter of drinks, with the classic towel hooked over the other arm... and then, naturally, nothing else covered his body or fur. Smoothly ridged chest and abs angled down towards his similarly well-trimmed ruff of pubic fur, nestled snug behind and around a thick, plump sheath, and dangling sack bouncing and swaying as he walked. Lukas watched him pass, then leaned over to take another sip of his own drink. The taste washed over him, sharp and warm and a bit salty, savory. A little bit of chemical acidity back there, high and dry; it made his lip curl and nose tickle, and he felt it on his breath when he exhaled.

From the short time he had been here, already he could tell that they had instructed the waiters - and waitresses, and whatever the word was for those who didn't quite match those categories - to walk in a certain specific way in order to best show off their natural assets. And indeed it was appreciated; the otter shifted where he lay in this large lounge chair, half-raised a leg, and reached down to adjust his half-arousal along his lower belly, the cool air of the room swirling around and tickling at the sensitive skin and fur there.

Half might not be giving it enough credit. Upon entry the attendant had asked his reservation and intent, then gone over the required waivers and forms, and then prior to allowing him into the main section of the establishment, requested that he strip down to "at least" his underwear. There was a glimmer in her eye, and when he asked about that at least, the lioness had leaned forward, rested her muzzle on her chin, and explained that _most_of the patrons preferred to go in even less.

So Lukas had, too, and beneath her watchful eye felt himself begin to stir, with every other gaze flashing his way once he stepped through that door just magnifying the effect. Now he lounged back here in one of the corners, at once like all of the other patrons - the black-furred wolf with his tail hiked into the air while a lovely iguana ravenously, sloppily_worked beneath his tail, her jaw churning and tongue flicking; the cobalt-blue dragon who sat with his arms draped over the back of one of the booths, while a slim foxwolf slowly, gently pulsed a sleek metal sounding rod in and out of his hard length, each movement making him twitch and throb; a _feral German shepherd, of all things, standing upon one of the raised sections with his hindlegs spread and tail raised, while an attendant held him by the knot and pointed and tugged him down into the glasses of whoever was interested in getting a little bit of him on tap - and yet still an attraction of his own.

Lukas knew this. He swallowed down the last drops of his drink, enjoyed the taste and sensation as it tickled at his throat, then rolled his head on his shoulder again - so he could lift his muzzle up and beneath the dangling sheath of the great, dark-furred wolf-jaguar taur who had just so happened to position himself above the otter's chosen spot. Yet again that scent washed into his nose and down his throat, chasing after the spice and tang of the drink; Lukas swallowed once more, lifted a paw to caress the side of that sheath, and then pressed the thick flesh and warm fur in against his muzzle.

This actually hadn't been arranged, as much as it seemed like something Lukas would have done. He and this taur had locked eyes from across the room, as cliché as that was, and as the otter strolled through the crowd, taking little peeks, touches, and occasionally tastes from everything that interested him as he went, so too had the large lupine beast made his way carefully around and between his side. There were plenty of others that wanted to get at him, too, though soft words and gentle motions had brushed them away - and allowed Lukas personal, unbroken access to what everyone else so deeply desired.

The scent of wolf-jaguar strong in his nose and throat, Lukas lifted his head, took a brief peek up and past the taur's forelegs - he looked down at him from above, arms crossed over his chest and muzzle relaxed, face amused - then lifted his glass right up beneath the lip of his sheath, as so many of the others were doing for the shepherd in back. If he tilted his glass, rested the edge against the lip of the wolf's sheath, reached up, squeezed at the base of his hanging weight, and pulled forward... then a few sizeable, heavy drops of cloudy, milky juice dribbled out and gathered in the glass.

So Lukas did that a few more times, rolled the drink around, and tilted it back to take another sip. The wait was certainly worth it.

iridiumx

---

Iri sighed and squirmed where he lay, nose and lungs already full of the scent that continued to wash down over him like warm, melted butter. The weight sitting atop his chest squeezed down on him a little bit, but luckily the large Pokémon knew by now how this went and adjusted her weight accordingly. The smaller dragon wriggled again, found a more comfortable position, and lifted his muzzle again.

Even with his eyes closed he could tell when he would make contact - and sure enough he did so within the inch, that hot, dense air so thick that he nearly had to physically push through it soon giving way to its source. Once there he turned his muzzle back and forth, back and forth again and again, lips pursed and nose up so this sensitive skin could run along the wrinkles and folds of his Reshiram's tailhole, slimy and sticky both from her own natural slickness as well as her Trainer's breath and drool. Every time he pulled back, another thick string of that juice hung between the center of her pucker and his nose or lips, remaining there until he flicked his tongue out to lap it off and swallow it down.

As he did so Iri could feel it cling to the back of his throat and roll of his tongue, holding there through a second and third swallow as he continued to suck this humidity off of her body. She squirmed and adjusted above him, the Pokémon's sex steadily oozing and seeping out onto the ruff of fur along the smaller dragon's chest and belly and further coating him in her scent, sharply different from what he wore ground into his breath and the skin of his muzzle. The natural wetness along the interior of his mouth had become thick and sticky, stringy and slimy as saliva gave way to liquid musk sucked both off of and out of the Reshiram, her muscular legs braced against the ground on either side of his head where she squatted and ring of muscle pulsing, tensing, clenching against his focus.

There wasn't too terribly much she could do against him, though, as their difference in size along with how long Iri had spent nestled hear underneath her rump, both today as well as in the past, meant that it was quite easy for him to nuzzle up, press his nose right into the wrinkled center of her pucker, and then gently, slowly work his way in. That ring of muscle squeezed around his chin and his nose, further smearing her scent and slickness into his awareness - and then as soon as he pressed his way through, that ropelike ring gave way to sleek inner flesh, mashing easily around his intruding muzzle, making way for him as he pushed his way deeper.

Now every breath he took came from inside the Reshiram's body, when she relaxed enough to allow him to pull deep of that heavy, dense internal air. Iri swallowed and remained where he was, eyes just barely half-lidded: this close he could see every single twitch and jerk in her nerves and muscles, the wrinkles of her tailhole pulling together around his muzzle and then relaxing, the bare, glistening red of her interior flesh just barely visible through her rim each time she gently pushed, and then of course the thick, slightly discolored slime trickling down and around the portion of his muzzle that remained outside of her.

If he pursed his lips inside and sucked, there was nothing at first - and then more hot, humid air - and then he felt as though he had pressed his mouth straight against a pool of warm, molten glue and started to pull it in, the Pokémon's internal slime washing along his tongue and roof of his mouth and then dripping down his throat. Iri squirmed again beneath her, one paw resting along one of her wide thighs while the other continued between his own legs, a single forefinger and thumb squeezing, stroking, teasing, trying not to push himself too far beneath the burgeoning arousal.

Warmth dripping down his tongue and throat, heat seeping into his chest and soaking him through, his own arousal oozing down along his thumb and the back of his paw... the dragon swallowed again, the movement causing a sucking pressure from deep inside the Reshiram's rump to pull at his breath and senses. If he tilted his muzzle up, he could at once feel her ring squeezing at his throat and jaw just as those inner walls sucked at him, giving way to his swirling tongue and lips; he shuddered again, gave a buck, and slid his paw away, just so he could slip both paws in beneath her rump and give her a little push and lift.

She responded as appropriate, lifting herself up a bit - and pulling her gaping tailhole off from around his muzzle with a thick, wet _smack,_blossoming inner flesh holding tight to his face and lips and then pulling free, overlapping folds of glistening red meat parting open and hanging there in front of his muzzle, thick ropes of that interior slime draping between, hanging down, coming free to rest across his already-smeared face. Iri blinked against the wet warmth, swirled his tongue around his lips again, then came up to wrap his lips around her parted tailhole, his own hips still thrusting and pumping so close to his peak.

The Pokémon shuddered and rumbled deep in her chest, the wide ring of her tailhole pulsing shut against his tongue with all of those ridged wrinkles tugging together and tightening shut. Then she gave another push, unfolding everything right back against and into his mouth and filling his maw with another thick glob of his saliva mixed with her own internal sludge - and that was it for the smaller dragon. Mouth filling with her taste and heat, those thick, sleek folds of flesh mashing against his tongue and lips and muscles straining, Iri bucked and jerked, drew in her heavy scent through his nose buried right up along the upper exterior of her rim - and then gasped, swallowed, and did so again, as his load spurted out across his chest and belly, untended cock bouncing and jerking as he sucked her clean and dry.

When he finally fell back, the suction both from her mouth as well as from her tailhole parted against his lips in a deep, wet kiss held him there for a moment, then pulled free with a thick squelch. Still dribbling across his belly, he shifted his muzzle, tilted down - and received a faceful of the same thick ooze that coated the inside of his throat and belly, hanging loosely down from the Reshiram's parted tailhole. She looked back at him over her shoulder, lust in her eyes.

She had given him what he wanted, and now expected him to serve her in return. That was only fair, after all.

RuariYeen

Shekh turned his head to the side a bit to watch the landscape as it sped by, the busy city highway having long since given way to this simple two-lane road weavings its way in and out between low hills, open plains, arid expanses. He nipped gently at the forefinger of one paw resting by the window, his other tweaking and turning the wheel in tiny adjustments to stay on course - though still veering slightly off every now and then, naturally. He couldn't help it. He shifted in his seat, bumped his head back against the headrest, swallowed and sighed... and when he glanced to the side the first thing he smelled was himself.

He couldn't see that part of himself, though. Not where Ruari lay across the console between them, her seatbelt undone and the stripes of her back and shoulders glittering in the sunlight coming through the passenger window like sharp shadows cast on white fur from some unseen spikes. Cool amber-brown eyes flicked up at him and she exhaled, and again Shekh's nose twitched and tingled with his own scent, laden heavily over her breath as it warmed his fur, trickled down between his thighs, and curled up into the enclosed space of the car around them. His footpaw gave a little twitch and put a little jerk in the pace he was driving, but with a bit of effort he managed to get things back under control.

"You know, Shekh," the other hyena purred, her words tickling across the base of his shaft revealed through his opened fly. Warm, gentle fingers fished in and underneath, found his sack, and squeezed and tugged it out into the air to rest above his opened pants, his half-arousal now resting and twitching atop her other paw. "The hotel had a shower."

"Well, yeah, but I-" His words died in his throat again when she positioned a forefinger and thumb right there at the base of his supple foreskin, half-retracted, and slid it the rest of the way back down. Even without looking - he had to keep his eyes on the road - he felt the little electric burst of pleasure that the motion sent through him, then another kick, then a sigh, and when he breathed back in his own musk had filled the compartment even more, thicker than before.

Ruari slid her nose up and along the retracted rim, warm breaths tickling over the sensitive wrinkles of skin there. Whether that was her saliva or rather his own natural slickness, Shekh couldn't tell - but the longer she had him rolled back like this, the stronger his own scent became, rich and heavy and warm, a little bit acrid, a little bit pungent. She swallowed and nosed up a little bit, this time pinching at his soft skin as it went until it slid back up over his head, curled to a tip, and then folded up into the little bit of overhang that he had. This she ran back and forth over her lips, soft and sensitive, before nipping a portion of the rim and giving a little tug, slow and gentle. It took a moment, but soon the skin pulled away from the surface underneath with a soft, wet shlk. A little bit of suction, a little bit of squeezing... Shekh glanced down again, in time to watch Ruari squeeze his protruding overhang and rub it back and forth, back and forth over itself between her lips, the skin stretching and pulling out before it finally slid free and flopped back into place along his belly.

Finally she looked up at him again, moving one arm to prop her muzzle up while the other came in to tease at his growing arousal again. "Yeah? But you what?"

The male hyena turned his head, blush warming his cheeks yet again. Still, though, he couldn't resist but rumble and thrust gently upward when she slid that skin back and forth again, back and forth, then rolled it all the way back, a little bit further, and squeezed there, enough that he felt the tension in his frenulum underneath tugging at his head. Then she just _held_him there, even as he wriggled and squirmed and throbbed in her paw, tightening her grip further and, yet again, only continuing to surround the two of them with his own scent, slick and greasy and rich.

If anything this just served to work him up further. He shifted his footpaw to the other paw and gradually started to slow the car, not to stop but rather to make a sleek turn bending around the foot of another wide hill coming up in the distance. Ruari straightened up a bit to brush her hair out of her face, took the opportunity to lean in and kiss the other hyena on the cheek - her breath reeked of him - then settled back down into place between them, this time with the pad of her thumb sliding slowly, carefully along behind the rim of his head.

"Oh," she murmured, and continued around and over, careful not to scratch him with her claw. Shekh thumped his head against the head rest again, teeth gritted and tail flicking against the seat. "Oh, my. Would you look at that."

The movement was sleek and slick, smooth and easy. Around and around she ran her thumb, then finally brought her paw up and away, gave that thumb a sniff, shivered, and then reached it forward towards Shekh's muzzle. He turned to look at her, blinked - then jerked back again when she wiped it off along his upper lip, just beneath his nose. Sharp and rich indeed, deep and musky and pungent, slick and wet and intoxicating; before he could stop himself the hyena swallowed, parted his lips, and then pursed them up and forward towards his nose to get a deeper, fuller sniff of himself, smeared there in the liquid streak that their few days spent on this trip without a shower had gathered. He had gotten plenty of her scent wiped across his face, his nose, his tongue, and other parts of him, but now that she had added his own to the mix as well, it was getting a bit hard to focus.

A sign passed by on the side of the road: _rest stop, 20 miles._Shekh eyed it until it passed out of view, then licked his lips and shivered as Ruari drew him back up over his head, pinched there, and slid him down again, back and forth. They could probably afford a brief detour.