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The coyote slowed his pace yet kept on going, footpaws thumping rhythmically along the treadmill beneath him. He reached up yet again to adjust the fit of his headphones in his ears, constantly jostled loose from his run, then with that same paw gradually dialed down the machine until it put him at a steady walk.

In through the nose, out through the mouth, he remembered from all those years back at school. He wasn't certain whether that was actually how it went, but he figured he should try to put at least some effort into keeping himself busy and in shape, and running was easy enough. Besides, it made him drink a lot - a few more taps turned the machine off, and with his chest heaving slowly and heart thumping, he knocked the cap off his bottle, tilted it back, and downed the last third or so in a few paced gulps - and when he drank a lot, he pissed a lot. And everyone deserved a little treat after working out.

Already he had discovered that most folks showed up to the gym either in the early early mornings or later in the afternoons... so, likely before work started and then after. This left things fairly empty during midmornings, in that funny stretch of time where it was too late to have breakfast yet too early for lunch. It was rare that he had the place entirely to himself, but more often than not the coyote finished up his run and plodded over to the showers and there could enjoy the side effects of his visit... and if he was showering, then he might as well get himself messy in doing so.

It was remarkable how far his piss could shoot, when he pinched his sheath shut between a forefinger and thumb and let it squirt out over his chest and shoulders... already thinking about it, he slid a paw into the pocket of his gym shorts and gave himself a little adjustment on his way off the treadmill and towards the hall. On his right was the wall of windows that looked out over the indoor pool, kept illuminated by vast skylights as well as regular interior lighting: where there was what looked like a small group maybe of college friends earlier, now was instead -

The coyote paused, faltering in his step. What was_that? Something long and serpentine, greyish-pink, slippery and slimy, cut easily through the water from one end to the other, then back again with remarkable, unsettling speed. He tilted his way one way and then the other as he tried to figure it out: _it's not some kind of cleaning machine. Not a pool toy - not allowed at the gym pool. Do we have a fucking sea monster here? Or is that-

Following another lap the thing came up towards the edge, broke through the surface, and then rested one of two pairs of apparent arms from its upper portion there along the tile, while the second reached up to brush the water out of what the coyote assumed was its face. It looked roughly snakelike from here, with the smooth rounded snout, the thick neck, the sleek saurian appearance where that slimy skin-like substance became something more recognizable as scales. The rest of the body - some kind of taur, the coyote figured, or more likely a naga - trailed slowly afterwards, building up into thick, meaty coils along the shallows and floor of the pool still within the water. The closer the coyote looked, the more it seemed as though those submerged sections kept themselves separated from the water via that layer of slime, glistening with little bubbles throughout... but whatever it was, or _they_were, they seemed to feel their audience's gaze, paused, and turned towards the windows.

The coyote froze again, his ears perked, and he held those pale eyes for a moment longer before bustling on towards the lockers. Now curiosity and wonderment stirred within him as well, about as noticeable as the urgent weight simmering behind and beneath his navel. He adjusted his jacket slung over his shoulder and tried to look nonchalant on his way around the corner then, fingers still in his pocket and thumb hooked around the waistband of his shorts, and his underwear underneath.

Often he considered going without the underwear, but after a few visits of noticing just how obvious that was with the way things bounced and jiggled around, decided to save that for the days he was feeling particularly adventurous - as in, the days where he came in to do his run with his favorite vibrator sheathed under his tail, or that little sounding plug nestled inside the tip of his cock with the anchor loop folded within his sheath. Still, though, as his mind wandered back towards his original distractions he couldn't help but let his thumb trail a little bit further down beneath his waistband, quite quickly diving into the thick, damp puff of pubic fur surrounding the base of his sheath. His claw dragged through the wiry fur there, pad reaching out and down to find the sleek, supple skin, then poked and pressed and pushed around, teasing himself up against the interior of his underwear... if the locker room was empty he might even be able to strip down and enjoy his own scent for a while, before taking care of things in the shower.

It was all about priorities. Embarrassingly enough, the coyote hadn't mastered the skill of being able to piss while hard, and if he resolved his tension too early then he just ended up with a full bladder and no way to enjoy it other than the usual casual relief. Exhibiting his massive amount of self-control, he sighed, slid his thumb back out of his pants, and then sniffed it only twice before shouldering open the swinging door to the locker room.

To his surprise, and more importantly his relief, he was alone. The coyote nodded, smiled to himself, and then immediately moved to strip off his shirt, one paw going down to both scratch at as well as heft his balls in his shorts; he left it there for a while longer, rubbing and feeling, massaging and touching and-

There was the creak of the door's hinges again accompanied by a smooth, sibilant slithering, like someone dragging a wet towel across the tile floor. The coyote's nose wrinkled with the distinct scent of the sea. He paused, paw still in his pants, and looked over his shoulder... and up, and up, and up, at this odd greyish serpentine figure.

Whatever they were, they kept themselves completely nude save for that layer of slime that apparently coated their entire body. Something halfway between a fish, an eel, and maybe some kind of salamander, their serpentine face looked down at the coyote and appraised him through pale eyes, taking in his figure, his shape, the way he still scratched at his balls.

"Digging for gold there?" the thing, apparently male, said a moment later with a wave of one of his hands.

"Yeah," the coyote replied, and slipped his paw out. His claws came back shimmering with the grease of gathered sweat. "It grows in every few weeks. Looking to help out?"

To his surprise, then, the thing tossed his head back and laughed, a crunchy wet sound that made his ears flick and tail twitch. Then the naga leaned forward with another of its four hands offered for a shake. "I knew when I saw you eyeing me through the window that I'd like you. Name's Myx."

He took it, shook it... "Raul," then waved his paw off to try to free it from the clinging layer of glue-like slime. "Does this..."

"Wash off?" Myx shrugged. He motioned with two arms over towards the other side of the room. "You'll understand if I have to keep as much of it on myself as possible - hagfish."

"Hag what?"

The naga pointed to his face. "Hagfish. I'm ugly. Also a bit smelly, I'm told."

"Yeah, well, I'm a coyote, so," and Raul lifted his other paw - the one that had just spent half a minute nestled within the fur of his sack - to his nose for a sniff. "That second part's just par for the course. And it's not that I'm opposed to being coated in... slime." He shook his paw out again. Ropes of it swung off to smack against the tile floor and locker walls, thick and heavy, foggy and discolored. "Nor am I a stranger to it. But I_am_ about to shower."

Myx grinned. "Well, easiest way is to find out, right?" Then the naga slithered his way on over towards the showers, multiple heads set up in sequence along the exterior walls of a wide room that all emptied to a single drain in the center. "Normally the best way to cut it is with a dilution of vinegar or something else slightly acidic, but then most folks don't really-"

Halfway through this Raul had started to tug his shirt off over his head. "How about piss?"

"What?"

He met the naga's gaze again, now crouching down to yank his shorts and underwear straight off. Confidence helped a lot in situations like this, so he ignored the fact that the coating of slicky, sticky slime had in fact kept him worked up from his fantasies earlier, so that the first inch and a half of tapered glistening flesh still poked out from the end of his sheath. Naturally Myx's eyes went straight down there, and Raul wondered if he saw a bit of a blush warm that grey skin.

"Does piss get it off? Not that I'm itching to un-slime myself. Hell," said as he turned his paw back and forth, those thick ropes draping and curling around his spread fingers, "I bet this would kick ass to jack off with."

Myx remained silent for a moment, assumedly through shock. He waited with two hands along the rim of the glass wall separating the showers from the rest of the room, fogged for privacy. His forked tongue flicked out across what really stretched the definition of "lips", and he shrugged on his way in. "Like I said," he went on, "one way to find out, right?"

Now there was a thought. Raul chuckled as he followed, deliberately taking the shower next to the naga when every other one was open. His heart thumped in his chest, now from nervousness instead of the physical exertion from earlier: there was the slight chance he'd read it wrong and was about to make a nuisance of himself, but the way Myx looked at him, the slight glitter in his eyes, the amusement at the coyote's words... Raul reached forward to turn the water on, then kept himself out of the stream while it warmed up.

Then he waited for Myx's gaze to meet his once more, and dropped that slime-coated paw down to his groin. Slowly, deliberately, as an invitation - and it worked, those pale eyes following a moment later. Raul shivered when he squeezed a forefinger and thumb down around the lip of his sheath, the thick, supple skin slipping easily beneath the coating there. Hell, it felt like lube mixed to too thick of a consistency, not quite gelatinous yet certainly on the way there: he gasped, gave a little buck, then kept his fingers clenched there so that the first few inches of his length slid from the warm skin of his sheath into the slick, slightly stick slime-coated grip of his fingers.

"Yeah," he breathed, "oh yeah, that'll be good."

"Gathering it up in a jar," Myx rumbled, letting the shower spray down across him, "and pushing into that is a fun method."

"Shit, I bet." Raul chuckled. His assumption had been right. "Gotta show me sometime."

"I mean..."

Myx shifted. Raul got the impression that he wanted him to watch, so he turned and looked: the naga had lowered himself closer to the ground a bit, now with two of his hands reaching down towards the sleek, smooth center of his body, coming in along the edges of his genital slit. The coyote had wondered about that, as when the two had faced each other in the locker rooms he noticed it was about the same length as his entire muzzle. With a wet, sticky smack Myx spread himself, showing grey skin turning to pinkish flesh inside, with not one but two definite tips of sheathed shafts there inside, with a spread of glistening ooze roiling between them.

"Here, too," he went on, and slid a pair of fingers through the muck. "Special enzyme that does the same thing to my piss. I can just - 'turn it on', so to say, then open the floodgates and... go wild. So, in short, you _could_use it to un-slime yourself, but then I could do that and get you slimed all over again."

"Oh, dear. Oh, no." Raul chuckled, braced his paws against his groin, angled his hips forward while he brought his shoulders back, then bit his lip, closed his eyes, took in a breath of the warm shower steam... then sighed as his own stream began there, curving out in a lazy arc before gaining strength, and coming up across the tile wall in front of him. It was a slow start but gradually made it there, stray little droplets spattering down at an off-angle, trickling down his underside and along his sheath, warming his fingers where it went. Such a pale yellow it was almost clear, the coyote licked his lips and opened his eyes to watch himself, now swinging his hips gently back and forth, then lifted a paw right up into that stream.

The rich, indulgent heat spread quickly through his fur already wet from the shower, and it cut quite easily through the thick gathering of slime coating across him. The stuff started to fall off and slap against the floor in foggy chunks, bit by bit - and even after he had cleaned all of it off the coyote kept on going, now with both of his paws cupped there before his tapered tip while it still emptied out, slowly growing further out of his sheath with the stream itself weakening accordingly. Not that he was running out of piss; quite the opposite, in fact, as the more he went the stronger he could feel the need to keep on going, but it was more that his growing, stirring arousal had other things it wanted him to take care of first, and-

"Ah," purred Myx beside him. The coyote blinked and looked across, then up, then down again at the way the hagfish naga positioned himself, the thick length of his lower body coiling up underneath him to provide a place for him to rest. He, too, leaned back, both pairs of shoulders adjusting backwards, one pair of arms coming forward while the other slid down. The naga waited to make sure his friend was watching, then gave a little nod forward and down, slid his fingers along his genital slit again, spread himself open... then shivered at the soft, wet shluck of those digits digging into his gathered interior ooze again.

This time, though, there was more. He swallowed, shifted, then moved his hips, and Raul watched as not one but two curved, tapered members snaked out from within that slit, each on either side of his fingers. Flesh a similar cool pinkish-grey to the rest of him, a little bit brighter in color, ringed and ribbed through with the delicate webbing of veins.

"Make sure you're watching," the naga began. "I wanna show you-"

"Oh, good," Raul interjected, "finally someone here _asks_me to."

Myx rolled his eyes, then motioned down to himself. "I can do it... just like you..." and with a little bit of apparent effort, the muscles in what Raul assumed to be his loins bunching up, tightening, then relaxing, he too began to empty himself out. One of his lengths began before the other one did, a quick series of yellowish droplets dripping out before solidifying into the same sort of spraying stream, then with the other coming a few seconds later. Myx spread himself again between his fingers, aiming one over towards Raul's shower while the other dissipated beneath the course of the shower. He sighed, leaning into the relaxation and relief, serpentine head coming up and back while he gave into the sensation and let his bladder - bladders?_Raul wondered; _two dicks, two bladders? - release its weight out through his body.

Hell, Raul would have been content to just lean against the wall here and watch Myx do this, stray rivulets and droplets of fresh piss slipping smoothly down the slightly water-resistant surface of his slime-coated body, his own lengths inching steadily further out from within his genital slit. There was the floating thought of I wonder how deep that thing goes_followed by _and if it's filled all the way with slime, which quickly led Raul to return his paw to his own shaft and continue rubbing and stroking, his urgency battened down behind the growing investment in other pursuits. He licked his lips and leaned against the wall almost completely out of the range of his own showerhead, arm working beside him while he continued to watch, every now and then letting his gaze flick up to Myx's face before dropping back down to the show at hand.

The naga flicked his forked tongue out again and sighed. "And then," he went on, his stream noticeably dwindling for a moment, "I can..."

Concentration and focus spread across him for a moment, muscles tightening, tensing, releasing again. His piss trickled to an abrupt finish, rogue sprays emptying out across his hands, his groin, and the wall before him, settling down into and mixing with the shower water on its way to the drain in the center of the room. Then nothing for a second, and then his eel-like body gave a lurch, a shudder, a jolt - and out from each of those revealed tips spurted a thick, gelatinous goo of greyish yellow. Still he kept two hands right there at the edges of his genital slit, keeping the slick, supple skin tugged open around the bases of his cocks, while the other hands rested up and behind his head. Raul was put in the mind of someone about to go skinny-dipping, standing on a ridge over the water with their paws up and dick out, lazy and nonchalant, hips thrust forward with not a care in the world for where they would end up marking so long as it was somewhere in front of them.

"Hah... there we go..."

It looked like it took deliberate effort from the naga, the muscles of his loins tightening up before each blast. Raul very nearly stopped stroking himself so he could watch; he thought he could see the stuff work up through Myx's urethras as well, a thick, lumpy protrusion rolling its way up and then guttering up and out, arcing quite clearly through both the air as well as the falling water of the shower and then smacking heavily against the floor, the wall near his groin, then by his shoulders... then up towards the ceiling, and higher, and higher.

Each time Myx pushed he put a little more force behind it, and the thick wads of sludge-turned piss jetted up higher, further, faster, like ropes fired out from his serpentine shafts. They stuck where they hit, jiggling and only slowly rolling down under the effect of gravity tugging at their coherent, wobbly weight; the more he pushed out the further he slid out from his slit as well, until the fingers of one hand rested evenly in between the bases of his cocks there, pushing each out at an angle, while the other of that pair now tugged at the rim of his slit from inside, fingertips hooked just slightly within the supple skin there. He crossed his other pair of arms in front of his chest, grip on himself tightening with each forceful spurt, muscles standing out and then relaxing all over again.

Every time he finished a rope the naga let out a tense breath, like Raul did when he finished a pull-up on one of the bars out in the gym. The coyote's ears flicked and his own cock now bounced fully hard between his legs, attention fixed on the unique show before him. Myx half-opened one eye at one point, saw his enraptured audience, then gave the base of one of his shafts a little nudge towards him... and jetted out another spurt right there across the side of Raul's arm and paw, forceful enough that it felt like someone had blasted him with a spurt of gelatin from a firehose.

Hell, it stung a little bit - but before long he realized part of that was since it was so, so warm, the very same product of the hagfish's bladder semi-coagulated in whatever strange enzyme it was that he had. Another squirt emptied out across his wrist and palm, and this time Raul lifted that up to his muzzle, took a sniff, then winced and wrinkled his snout. No denying that that was piss, rich and golden yellow, shimmering and jiggling. He gave that paw a wave, saw that it stuck, frowned, leaned in again, touched his nose to it... took in a breath, shuddered with the high, musky scent of fresh urine, then parted his lips, let his tongue out -

-and then gasped as thick, slimy coils started to curl around his ankles and up his body, great ropes of flesh cool to the touch yet with a simmering heat hidden deep inside. He looked up, startled, as Myx continued to bind the coyote up in the lower portion of his body, wrapping firmly yet gently up to enclose the coyote within a bowl of sorts there within his body, all the while with his cocks still dribbling and oozing that thick, yellowish sludge. It smacked and slapped against what little of the tile floor remained open between Raul's footpaws and Myx's coils, and then started quickly filling up over his toes, then his ankles, then up higher, and higher.

Raul cupped his paws together beneath those faucets, so to say, and let it pour out into his palms. It came out in thick, glistening chunks, loosely forming together: he mashed it in between his fingers, felt it squirt out through the spaces in between, then leaned back against Myx's coils with one arm draping over him while he smeared it across his chest, his belly, his groin, his own sheath and balls and sack. The coyote couldn't help but shudder at the sensation, the gelatinous consistency helping to retain the natural body heat quite a bit better.

"Oh, God," he breathed, and returned to stroking himself with one slime-coated paw. Myx had coiled him up so that the water from both of their showers spread across the exterior of his body and rolled off, leaving each of them within the bowl as relatively dry as they had been when he had first bound him up. "If I could do this..."

Myx chuckled. "You'd never stop? Well, see, and then all it takes is... just..." He closed his eyes, took in another breath, and in a moment shivered again - and then after a few more loose spurts of thick, chunky gel-piss, his mark returned to its initial pace, fresh and rich, smooth fast-flowing liquid beginning at a gentle trickle and then coming back to course, splattering out against the opposite wall of coils and pouring down there. "Like that."

"And you can do that freely?"

"It takes a minute, but... yeah." Myx sighed, resting one pair of his arms up behind his head. He closed his eyes, mouth falling partially open, while he continued to go ahead and drain himself; for such a large body he likely had a suitably sized bladder, and the level within his coils here, Raul snug within this vase-shaped, watertight center, steadily rose up towards his knees. The more he poured into it the thinner the mixture ran, as some of the gelatinous goop near his ankles spread its enzymes up through what Myx now drained in. "I'm sorry. I think I interrupted you. Do you wanna-?"

God, Raul thought, here we go. Not that he fell victim to stage fright or performance anxiety - quite the opposite, unsurprisingly - but here he lay, bound up in Myx's coils, already reeking of the fresh piss of someone who was a stranger not fifteen minutes ago, balls resting down in a pool of the stuff that simmered and steamed and soaked into his fur as it continued to climb his body, sheath pulsing, hard shaft twitching against his belly, rising up and away from the spot of sticky pre leaked into his fur.

Still, though, he loved a challenge. The coyote squirmed a little bit, pressed his paws down along his loins, and with both thumbs squished at the base of his sheath until that supple skin rolled back a little further and angled his cock forward.

"I can try." It certainly felt like he had a lot more, with the familiar faint pulsing in his abdomen, the urgency squashed down behind arousal, but if he focused, tightened his muscles, pushed, then relaxed... "If I can - just... ah..."

Not to say that he couldn't piss while hard, just that it was difficult. Usually the coyote had the best luck when there was something else easing him along, be that one of his thick toys, or someone else's knot, or wrist, or freakishly long tongue, or various other things buried up under his tail, squeezing at all the appropriate valves from inside. Perhaps it was something about the reek of fresh piss already stirring around him, or the mixed surprise and disbelief that such a delightful thing was happening to him at all, but Raul squirmed there within Myx's coils, swallowed again, circled his thumbs there against his abdomen so that he could feel the stirring pressure against his bladder, pushed a little harder... then twitched, felt the first trickling spurt, pushed again, relaxed just a little bit, and now opened his eyes to see the pale, well-hydrated droplets course out of his tapered tip and down along the underside.

With a little shudder of relief he looked up to Myx again, then once more licked his lips, pushed his paws down, and put a little more effort behind it. Maintaining his stream here took deliberate force and intent, and Raul found the harder he squeezed the faster and stronger it became, until he was spraying straight out against the naga's coils on the other side of the bowl, cutting cleanly through that layer of slime constantly cloaking his body and adding to the level that still continually rose over his waist. Raul shivered, sweet relief and delight spreading through his body, and dropped one paw down to the base of his own shaft so that he could wave it back and forth, spraying and painting as he desired; with the other he reached up and to the side, gingerly touching at each of the naga's shafts in turn, then wrapping around one, angling it down a bit, and inviting Myx to give him the shower that he so desperately needed.

He turned his head up and back, one of the hagfish's shafts spraying loosely out into the bowl while the other now coated his neck, his shoulders, his chest, wherever else Raul decided to aim him. This wouldn't be the first time he had received a marking from someone he had just met at the gym, but it certainly would for when that stranger had two. The coyote rumbled in his throat, his own stream briefly interrupted by the distraction, and then re-centered himself so that he, too, could continue; then he paused to let Myx pour freely out across him, blinking through the dripping waves of fresh yellow, as his own body finally gave in to the urgent need and released the floodgates free of his deliberate intent.

It looked, and felt, great to see his own fully hard shaft still twitching between his legs, each pulse straining against the supple skin of his sheath rolled back behind his knot, while emptying out that sharp, clear, forceful stream of piss, split into two at the tip and quickly degrading into a messy spray. Raul pressed his fingers down along himself, wrapped tight, slid up towards his tip, pushed back again, and before he knew it was stroking himself with both his own mark as well as Myx's, the scent soaking deep into his fur and warming him to the skin and deeper.

"Running on empty," the hagfish purred above him. Raul opened his eyes, reached up and back, and this time angled both of those cocks down over his shoulders, his own shaft giving a pulse and throb at the sudden heat. "How about you?"

He swallowed and wiggled his hips. It was hard to tell, but... "Still got some in the tank," he said, and looked up over his shoulder. "Why?"

"Well, I was just thinking... you're up to your belly, and, you know, I could..."

It took a moment. Raul's piss squirted to a stop, then trickled back up again. Now he had to try for it again.

He sank down a little lower, submerged himself and the entirety of his length within the mixed marks, watched the stirring, swirling evidence of his own continued stream feeding out into the reservoir already here from beneath the surface.

"Yeah," he answered. "Yeah. Do it."

And so Myx did. Once more the naga's shafts throbbed, twitched, and sputtered to a stop over his shoulder... and then, a little more readily this time they began again, what little remained of his volume dumping out in the same thick, messy spurts. On and on he poured into the pool here, barely any drips of it oozing free between his tightly bound coils, and Raul found that each tight jet sent those enzymes rippling through the liquid, coagulating it almost before his eyes.

It was more that he could feel it than see it, though, as suddenly it become a bit harder to continue pawing off there beneath the surface, with the folds and chunks and bits of goopy piss clinging to his fur and brushing against his fingers. His skin prickled with the sensation of everything not-quite-solidifying around him, to the point where when the coyote finally rose back to his full height, heavy chunks and bits of the stuff dripped slowly down from his belly and waist, plopping back down onto the surface, residing there for a moment, and then melting back in.

"Holy shit..." he breathed, now dipping his paw down beneath the surface, scooping up some of the coagulated sludge, and letting it drop and smack across the back of his shaft. "I can't believe it."

Myx let out another sigh, his twin shafts spurting in a few final gouts of the thick, sludgy slime, and rested one pair of his arms out across his body so he could lounge to the side. The naga positioned himself so that he could lean forward and reach down with another arm to take hold of one of those shafts and then steadily stroke it, ensuring that he cupped a good amount of the nasty stuff up against himself in doing so. "Mhmm," he rumbled, and then gave a little thrust forward, tightening the bowl in which Raul stood. "I've clogged quite a few shower drains doing this. Not by my own fault, you understand; practically everyone pisses in the shower."

Raul looked up at the naga, waist-deep in slimy piss from both of them, and blinked. The two shared a grin, and then with one paw the coyote reached up, took Myx's free shaft in his grip, and began a rhythm on that one as well as his own, freely smearing and squashing the stuff against himself and into his sheath.

What a sensation that was, thick and warm, sludgy and slimy and chunky yet still loose and liquid, sticky yet slick... a moan vibrated up from deep in his chest and he gave a thrust into his paw, and then another, arousal sputtering through him as quickly and thickly as the individual spurts of ropes that the naga had dumped out a few moments earlier. Pawing at both of them like this Raul felt a little bit awkward, trudging and sloshing around in this mess, his nose curled and stinging with the mixed stench of fresh piss and the hagfish's natural oceanic tinge, but at one point he leaned to the side while stroking himself, brushed against one of Myx's coiled sides, felt the sleek, slick sensation of slime-coated skin and flesh there... then had an idea.

So he released the naga's shaft, turned himself to face the exterior wall of this fleshy bowl, pressed himself down along that coil, then braced against Myx's body - and pressed himself forward, slipping smoothly, easily, sweetly between those heavy walls of flesh, the lubrication of his natural coating of slime easing his advance in between. Immediately the coyote felt his legs shudder and tail flick, and his ears perked to the loud, wet _slurch_that echoed out when he slid in.

Something within those coils tightened and squeezed around him, at once pressing down around his shaft while it worked to push him right back out. So Raul did what came naturally, and reciprocated the motion to push right back in so that those squeezing muscles pushed up against him, sliding deeper, squeezing into place, and he shuddered again.

Above and behind his shoulder Myx rumbled, the naga's hard shaft twitching in his paw. "You like that?"

Raul grinned and nodded, unsure whether to keep his other paw at his waist or reach up and hold the naga's coils with it. "Oh yeah," he answered, then tugged his way back until just his tapered tip remained nestled between those overlapping coils, thick misty strands of natural bodily slime mixed with the chunks of piss dropping free. He felt it clinging to his balls and rolling down his thighs, and every time he thrust forward again there was that noise of wet, urgent suction, the sensation gripping around, the sweet slipperiness gliding around sensitive flesh.

"Feels good, doesn't it?"

"Y-yeah... do you ever-"

Myx scoffed. It was strange, having one of his shafts in his own grip and then the other in Raul's, as the coyote couldn't tell whether these twitches and throbs came from what he was doing, or from what Myx did. "Of course I do. Wouldn't you?"

"After feeling it?" For a moment Raul braced both paws against the curves of slimy flesh, finding the leverage to pull himself back and then thrust forward again. The way Myx's coils sucked at his length and pushed at his knot, how this slick flesh slurped deliciously around him and kept him warm and snug and tight... "God, yes. I'm gonna... have to..."

But he trailed off beneath the swirling sensations, from the intoxicating pleasure of his thrusts to the constant knowledge of this sludge sloshing against his body, sucking at his balls and leaving him painted with the odor of fresh piss. Every now and then he glanced up and over his shoulder at Myx's twin cocks, one of them pumping steadily in one of the naga's hands while the other bounced and twitched and dripped across his shoulder, the clear, sticky pre taking on much the same consistency as the chunky slime in which he stood. The coyote gritted his teeth, shivered, reached down again to smear some of that mess around his groin, his balls, the base of his knot, and then scooped some into his sheath, then squeezed around the supple skin like a tube of toothpaste emptying out the last of the dregs.

There wasn't much more Raul could do to stave off his finish. Already his legs shook beneath him, jiggling like the jellylike effusions that slurped and slopped all around him, smacking up against Myx's bound coils and splashing back against him. A strange feeling, being so thoroughly coated with this sticky, clinging stuff that smelled and felt like piss, his nose tickling with a little bit of his own musk mostly covered by the richer, saltier oceanic bite of Myx's, and then the knowledge that they were doing this here of all places, the sounds of the gym showers still whooshing outside this little bowl, and-

And Raul gritted his teeth, wrenched his eyes shut, shuddered, jerked, shuddered again, and felt his fingers slip along Myx's body in trying to grip tight. He nearly lost his footing amid the sloshing piss, braced himself out, thrust forward, then did so again, and then nearly bumped his head against the upper rim of this organic, fleshy bowl with the force of his orgasm jetting through him. He gasped, swallowed, then opened his eyes and looked down as he pressed his hips forward into the space between those coils, knot swelling to its full fist size and pressing in against those layers of slime and skin, veins threading along the sides pulsing, thumping, twitching as he spurted out in between. His ears flicked; he thought he heard some of his spurts shooting out and through the other side, impacting the tile wall or the floor outside the bowl, but by then his attention had already split towards trying to keep himself upright while this sweet sensation squeezed all around him.

"Good?" Myx rumbled, and gently parted his coiled body there so that Raul could pull himself back out. His hard shaft stuck to the layers of slime, streaks of foggy white misting out along the surface; when he ran his paw along his length from base to tip, another shudder lanced through his body and a final few squirts rolled down over his fingers. "I felt you shaking."

Raul nodded, panting. "Yeah," he said. "God, yeah. Are you gonna-?"

"Yeah, just... give me..."

All around him those coils began to shift and unwind, uncurling from the top with the hagfish bracing himself against the wall for balance. It was like overfilling a bowl with congealed bone broth, watching the way that the enzymatic fluid wobbled, slid off into amorphous rolls, and then variously dripped, slapped, smacked, and dribbled down across the shower's tile floor, trickling its way in towards the dip of the drain at the center. While he uncurled the hagfish turned, pushed his back up against the wall, and now used both hands from one set of arms to stroke at each of his twitching shafts, one still pointed over towards Raul and the other now aimed roughly in the same direction as the struggling drain, sounding like someone trying to run mayonnaise through a pump system.

Raul wasn't sure what to expect. He looked back and forth between the show put on display for him and the process of the mess slopping down into the gym's doomed plumbing, his own shaft still twitching hard between his legs, hanging out away from his belly with his swollen knot pushing back along his sheath; still he could feel bits and chunks of the piss-slime wedged into the wrinkles and folds of slick skin there, and likely would through whenever he next took a shower. He'd certainly leave the gym reeking of piss, but just like everything else, it wouldn't be a first for him.

Before long Myx's strange serpentine face tensed up, and his other pair of shoulders tightened in towards his body. One hand squeezed against his chest, the other reached out and pushed against the wall, the other_pushed down towards his genital slit, the _other other squeezed, stroked a few more times, tightened up near the oddly angled, curled tip... and then the coyote licked his lips and felt his tail wag at the few thick, full spurts that emptied out from each of those in turn, so similar to the gelatinous squirts of piss yet longer, quicker, a bit less tight. Myx's entire body shuddered with the sensation, the wave of pleasure bouncing through his entire fourteen-foot length like a shock sent through a coiled spring: he tilted his head back, sucked in a gasp through gritted teeth, and spurted out towards the drain with one aimed cock, the other slapping and bouncing against his body while it flung those ropes freely and messily out. Some of it lanced out and smacked across the coyote's still sticky chest and belly, leading him to sigh and throb all over again.

It carried a different scent than his piss. Raul ran a fingerpad through the streaks of milky white, rumbled as it stretched like chunky glue, then slid that finger up between his lips... and then he blinked at the contortions Myx was putting himself through, looking for all the world as though he were tying himself in a knot.

"What the hell are you-"

The naga shivered at the point where the overlapping coils pressed past his genital slit, then sighed and came through. "What does it look like? Wiping off the gunk. Regular water won't cut it."

Raul paused again, baffled. He noticed that the water within the shower had started to rise up past his footpaws. A glance over to the drain showed the culprit for why. "What am I supposed to do about it? I have _bones,_you know."

Myx chuckled and wiped at a spot on his snout. "Well," he began, "I'd offer to piss on you, but..."

The coyote stared in disbelief, but then couldn't help but let a bit of his sly smile leak through. "I guess I'll just have to go home smelling like this."

"It'll dry to your fur, you know. Mats up. Makes a hell of a mess." Myx turned back to the shower. "Not that I would know, of course. Heard from a friend."

"Uh huh. Wanna hear from another friend?" Raul slid himself beneath the water as well, surprisingly cool in comparison to the pool of piss in which he had just been submerged to the waist. "Can I get your number after this?"

"After will take a while if you're trying to clean up with just water. I can give it to you now, and you can go home reeking like this. I mean, either way that second part is gonna happen, so."

Raul tossed his head back and laughed. Then he reached forward and switched the shower off.

"Well, now, that's an offer I just can't refuse, huh? I'll towel off and wait for you."

"Good dog." Myx turned his head over his shoulder as Raul headed back towards the lockers. "Hey, what's your gym schedule?"

"Tuesdays and Thursdays around this time. Why?"

The hagfish chuckled. "So we can make this a regular part of our routine."