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Peegus - August

Noma grinned inwardly as she lay down on her back, the cool touch of the stone floor lifting up into her fur. She swallowed, head reflexively pulling forward and down a bit as the muscles tightened - which resulted in her nose brushing up against the underside of firm yet supple skin, warm and slightly damp at the end, jiggling with just that little touch.

And the great feral wolf shifted where he stood above her, a deep huff vibrating within his chest. One hindleg stepped partially to the side soon followed by the other, and he lowered himself just slightly downwards, more fully resting his hefty sheath there across the wolfess's muzzle. Immediately she rumbled with delight, already nuzzling up against it, letting the firm softness slip to the side, weighing its heft against her.

It left her fur slightly greasy where it rested, and when she pulled away the huntress could still feel its distinct heat and musk swirling around her like a thick, sticky liquid. She swallowed, mouth watering, and pursed her lips up against the underside: slightly longer fur there stringy and sticky with dried piss and pre and seed caught along her lips, tickling at her gums and the roof of her mouth when she swallowed. He carried a rich, coppery tang to his scent, this brighter note layered over a deeper, fuller base that seemed to squeeze into the back of her throat and fill her lungs out a little bit more each time he inhaled.

Her nostrils sizzled, her throat tingled, her tongue twitched and lashed in anticipation, and she could feel his similar desire. Even just lying here on her back underneath her feral companion, just nosing and nuzzling and sniffing at his familiar musk, the combined force of both of their arousal had its effect on his body: slowly, bit by bit, the rich reddish-pink glistening meat of his tapered tip began to slip free from the bounds of his sheath, supple skin tugging, stretching back around it. A rim of slightly discolored gunk, for lack of a better word, had gathered there at the rim over time, similarly shining with natural dense wetness; Noma's nose curled at the concentrated, almost vinegary odor dripping off of it, but still it further fueled the flame already burning inside of her.

The huntress reached up with an experienced paw, folded one, two, three fingers around his sheath past the point where the loose flap of furred skin hung it from his underbelly, and squeezed her thumb in against the underside. Thick fur, thicker skin, soft warm flesh stirred inside; she rolled his sheath forward, bunched all of that grit and grim and sweat and liquefied musk towards the end, swallowed, and then flicked her tongue out and across all of it. Its texture spread out across her, slick, slimy, gelatinous; she shivered in delight, felt the way his scent suddenly crystallized into rich taste, and then parted her lips against the end of his sheath.

Already she knew there was no way she could fit _that_part of him into her mouth, after countless times before of trying. At most she might be able to wrap her mouth around the lips of his sheath and hold there, but once he began growing and twitching, hips settling into that natural forward-and-back rhythm which already began to make itself known, _then_she would have difficulty. So instead Noma slipped her paw forward again and aided him along, rolling the slick skin back further over the smooth, slick contours of the feral wolf's shaft buried inside, and swirled her tongue around the tapered tip.

Above her Stike rumbled, tightened a bit, and pushed forward, then did so again and again. Noma felt his forepaws grasping at her hips, trying to find some manner of purchase or leverage; she propped herself up on her elbows, tilted her head back a little bit further, and now slid the flat of her tongue along the top of his cock to angle him more closely into her maw. From here if she opened her eyes, head parallel to the ground underneath her, all she could see was the thick pouch of his sheath and then his huge, heavy balls underneath, lurching forward and back with his thrusts. The wolfess jumped as something squirted into her throat, then again, and again; she swallowed, had to do so a second time against the clinging stickiness, and both felt as well as tasted the distinct metallic headiness of feral lupine pre.

Something settled into place between them, then. Noma swallowed once more, suckled at her companion's tip, closed her eyes, and braced herself - and then Stike settled immediately into his _actual_rhythm. Underneath him the huntress held on as he lurched into the pace, his much larger body brushing against hers time and time again, hefty balls swinging forward, ever closer, until she felt them bump against her nose each time his full shaft sank straight down into her throat, access made less difficult from the angle of her head.

Not that it was easy, of course: each time he pressed past the back of her throat the huntress squirmed and barely suppressed another gag, breath forcibly held in her lungs with her airway closed off underneath his girth, tongue forced down, jaws held almost painfully open. Thick, full feral arousal pulsed inside of her mouth and throat, pushing deeper each time Stike thrust forward: drool, pre, musk, or rather some combination of everything dribbled down the sides of her mouth, smearing through her fur, hanging from her muzzle in thick, foggy ropes. When she could breathe all she could smell and taste was him, as though the scent itself came from deep inside of her instead.

The passion, the need, poured through both of them: what he felt, she felt too, and this helped provide her the strength to lie back and invite him to thrust and pound ever more urgently away at her muzzle, until she could barely breathe around his thick shaft and the globs of drool mixed with pre soaking through her fur. Noma spluttered and coughed around him, caught between wanting to pleasure her companion and wanting to be able to actually breathe, but before long both of these problems resolved themselves: Stike threw his head back, shuddered all over, took in a few more deep, breathy huffs, and then pushed forward.

So deep was he in her throat that Noma didn't even need to swallow. Instead she just felt the powerful throbs through his cock stretching her throat, and then the oddly distant, thick heat as his ropes of seed dumped directly into her stomach, filling her with simmering heat. His knot swelled against her muzzle, dripping its own liquid scent across the musk and drool already there; the feral wolf remained hilted for a while longer, barrel cheat heaving in steady panting, and then began to pull himself free. At least a mouthful and a half of slime, whatever it might be, poured free when he slid out of her throat; sputtering, coughing, giggling in delight, Noma sat up underneath him and wiped at her mouth.

Bright yellow eyes glimmered back at her. Stike's broad tongue flicked out across his chops, and his hefty shaft pulsed beneath his belly. Noma knew what that look meant.

My turn.

LomiDePuzlo - August

Nora squirmed where she lay, legs spread, ankles pressing into the pleasant firmness of the mattress underneath her. The ceiling fan spun overhead, the tower fan whirred back and forth in the corner, all of her clothing lay in a loose pile off by the bathroom door, and yet she _still_felt as though she were burning up, specifically from the inside out. It wasn't exactly an unpleasant feeling, though: it was the kind of heat that came from drinking the broth from a bowl of soup too quickly, or from knocking back a glass of that delicious cherry whiskey in one gulp.

The fox shivered again, lifted herself up onto her elbows, and adjusted how she lay on top of the towel she had made sure to spread out on the bed. Already the portion between her legs had darkened with the wetness of dripping arousal combined with lube; the bottle rested in against her leg at the other side, where it had originally stood straight up before her shifting weight had knocked it over. She swallowed, breathed out a tense sigh, squeezed all her muscles together, and felt the warm, slightly squishy weight _inside_of her where she had strained to keep it for these past few minutes. At first it had been difficult to hold the toy in, but now that she had gotten to this point - through quite a bit of gasping and squirming and shivering in delight, one paw between her legs repeatedly coaxing the silicone egg back up inside of her when it tried to slip free - she found the opposite to be true instead.

When she relaxed it remained lodged inside of her, deliciously filling her out from within, and then when she tightened, and squeezed, and pushed... nothing happened. Muscles stirred and strained, her legs lifted up and out, she gritted her teeth and felt a vein start to stand out on her neck, but it remained inside of her there.

Should've set up a mirror, she thought, once more running her paw down along herself. The fox yipped softly upon brushing her fingerpads over her lube-slickened clit, then felt wet lips, the little indent of her urethra lifted slightly out around the toy wedged inside of her... and then the toy itself just barely crowning underneath when she pushed, the smooth, semi-soft surface bulging out, stretching at her meat and muscles, never coming free. Bet this looks hot as all hell. It's just - I'm gonna be in trouble if I can't do anything about this...

And yet Nora found that the more she strained and reached for it, the more worked up she became. It manifested as a stirring heat down in her loins, more than the stretch and strain of muscles pushing themselves to their limits, more than the growing, simmering awareness of her bladder's resistance being worn down. She licked her lips, swallowed again, and pushed once more, this time from deep within her core; maintaining that tight strain the fox shuddered, sighed, took in a gasping breath through her nose, worked her fingers at herself, felt a little squirt of hot, loose liquid, then released again - and shuddered at the sensation of the egg once more sinking up inside of her.

The pressure felt like it had also changed from when she had first inserted it. She had had to go slow at first, teasing the smaller end at herself, working it back and forth, pushing it in, holding it there, then letting her muscles naturally coax it back out into her palm. Then she would smear it in more lube, rub it around, and press it in a little further, a little faster, a little harder. Eagerness warred with anticipation and burgeoning tension, until at one point the motion reversed and - pop - the fox had gasped, jumped, bit her lip, and then rolled onto her side in what felt like an endless series of deeply pleasurable shivers, inner walls molding and adjusting around the unexpected entry and presence filling her out from inside.

For a while she had just kept it there, repeatedly tightening down around it when she felt her body naturally trying to push it back out, squeezing with muscles and pushing in with fingers, and then indulging in the full-body pleasure that just having it inside of her spread. Now it was the reverse, Nora's paws gripping the sheets underneath her as she bore down, jaw clenched, eyes wrenched shut, as tight as she was physically capable of, trying to push it free, wondering if she should be doing this in the tub or over the toilet instead. That strain warmed up and started to simmer and burn while the pleasure remained; feeling a bead of sweat start to trickle down the side of her muzzle, she swallowed again, shivered, gave one last, firm push -

-and felt the thing suddenly squirt free from inside of her, forced out across the towel and rolling to a stop between her knees. Such a surprise it was, though, that her body just kept on going: Nora yelped and clenched back down around that sudden lack of presence, then bucked again and resumed pushing, and this time saw as well as felt the sharp, clear spray of pale yellow streaming out of her, up and across the mattress. The sheets darkened where her piss sprayed, bladder control completely lost after such an effort: squeezing, pushing, clenching, tightening all mixed into one, and no matter what she did it just kept on coming, wetting her legs, her tail underneath her, the towel, the egg itself where it glistened with sticky lube and the wetness of her own arousal.

Panting, a little bit dizzy, still very much turned on, she swallowed yet again, wiped at her mouth, and reached down as her stream started to dwindle down, tickling her own sex as the warm liquid pooled down underneath her. One, two, three, four fingers easily hooked up inside of herself where the egg had been lodged, rich wet meat spreading easily; the thing had definitely grown while it was inside of her, as the toy resting now in front of her was one that she normally couldn't have dreamt of being able to take.

Must be porous, she thought, exhausted. Took in the moisture and expanded. I'll have to check the package...

Fingers still buried, she gave another push, shivered, clenched as much as she could, and rubbed a thumbpad across her still-leaking piss.

Although maybe I should get my money's worth while it's this size.

Dotcom656 - August

Lukas's heart thumped in his throat as the otter looked down at the subject before him. This had seemed like such a good idea at the start, with the other six - or seven, or eight? He'd lost track - attendants of the party gathering to sit in a circle on the floor, the freshly empty bottle of triple sec sitting sideways in the middle of all of them. A full rotation of everyone had gone by, with him having watched such acts that made him alternately gasp, squirm cover his mouth, and also of course adjust his pants.

In Truth or Dare, of course everyone picked dare. The slim twink wolf across and to the left had called truth the first time it had landed on him, and upon hearing the question his ears had flicked back, his whiskers had pinned against his muzzle, and he said, in a timid voice, "I changed my mind, can I go dare?"

_ _

The minutes in between Lukas spinning the bottle and it pointing towards its target had come and gone in a blur. All the otter knew now was that he could feel the thick curls of the carpet pushing against his knees and the cool air conditioning tickling along his bared rump as he slid his jeans and underwear further down his thighs: the combination of his inebriation, showing off like this for so many friends as well as strangers, and then the very idea of what he was about to do provided him with more than enough fuel for the task.

The feral Great Dane lifted her head and looked back at him, sleepy eyes watching, appraising, perhaps judging. Her tail thumped against the floor and she adjusted how she lay, one leg coming up a bit - to bring more fully into view the thick, plump flesh of her full, intact spade, soft pink meat speckled with sections of brown coloration, teasing Lukas from where she lay since the group had gathered. Upon seeing everyone circle up she had come over and sprawled out between two of the attendants as though wanting her own turn in the game, and now it seemed as though she would get it.

The anticipation mixed with shock that had jolted through Lukas's chest on seeing the bottle point to her. Surely they won't make me-_he thought, only to look around the circle and see the same look of excited disbelief on everyone else around him. _"You gotta," they'd said. "You know what that means. Oh, man. Fuck. Let me get my camera up."

Mostly he was worried about the dog herself - her owner was one of the others cheering him on now, as he rubbed a paw along her rump, lifted her tail, and stroked his growing arousal with the other - but she seemed as into it as everyone else: when he touched her she licked her chops and wagged a little more energetically, brown eyes flicking back and forth between the otter's length and his muzzle as though waiting, wanting him to go further.

All the way, they had said. It wasn't like the dog could outline the boundaries of the dare herself, so he had to go by what everyone else said. All the way. When he lifted his head to look around himself the world swam just a little bit: three French 75s, two martinis, a glass of whiskey mixed with root beer, half of a Mai Tai...

Slick, delicious warmth nestled up against the head of his cock, immediately drawing his focus downwards. Lukas sucked in a gasp, licked his lips, shivered, pulled back - and then twitched with delight at the thick strand of stickiness hanging between his tip and the dog's plump sex where he had nudged up against her. He gave himself a slow, steady stroke, smearing that wetness along his head under his foreskin.

"Come on, Luke!" someone called over his shoulder. "Get to it! Don't keep the lady waiting! Look at her."

So he did. Her tail wagged against his paw where he held it at the base, and she pawed gently at the carpet while watching him. It seemed like she wanted it at least as much as he did, if not more. Lukas swallowed again, breathed out a disbelieving sigh, and angled himself forward and down again. With that one paw he circled himself around the plump lips of her spade, watching the way the supple flesh tugged and stretched, parting open from itself with a thick smack and showing glistening wet meat inside, rich and full.

Really he wanted nothing more than to dive down and taste her first, to see just how much of this protruding sex he could fit in his maw, to see how far she would fill his mouth if he sucked the juices out of her. But,_he figured, and lined himself up again, _I suppose I should perform for my faithful audience. So he bit his lip, took in a breath, nudged the first half-inch in between the folded lips there... and started to plunge in.

Delicious warm wetness spread back along him, teasing at the rim of his foreskin, slipping it back just a little bit further, squeezing along his now full erection. A shiver bounced back and forth through his body; the otter gasped, swallowed, tightened his grip on the feral's rear - his thumb poked up into the pucker of her tailhole, reflexively tightening back against him - and he sank in further, angling himself a little precariously to push deeper. A second later he realized he was moaning, a low, breathy sigh trickling out from between his parted lips; he shifted a little bit, reached back to slip his pants down a little bit further, and continued to sink on in, that irresistible wet heat enclosing him further and further.

"Holy shit," he heard someone behind him murmur, "he's actually doing it. Wait. Let me get around so I can see - oh, fuck..."

Lukas tilted his head back, pulled in another breath, and gently, tenderly, took the dog's hindlegs in his paws. She gladly let him roll her over onto her back, the sensation of her thick spade swirling around his shaft making him buck. He looked down across her, saw the folded ears, brown eyes, floppy jowls; the barreled chest, the points of nipples coursing down her belly, the pelt thinning out to pink skin then pouching up and around where he had buried himself halfway inside of her, her legs sprawled against his hips; he glanced around, saw the lifted phones, the looks of shock and interest on everybody else's faces, and felt the anticipation and arousal in himself - as well as in the feral herself. Her tail wagged between his ankles, bringing him to look down at her again.

I can't believe I'm actually doing this, he thought, leaning a little more fully over her. The movement naturally plunged him another inch and a half deeper; both of them shuddered in delight. But now that I've started, I might as well see it all the way through, right?

_ _

Lukas gritted his teeth, inhaled, held it, let it back out, and then thrust into her.

Lomidepuzlo - September

Lolo shivered despite the delicious heat wrapped around him, plush softness pushing in against his face, chest, and belly, while a much warmer, wetter slickness sank down around his arousal to the base and churned gently there. She drew the breath out of his lungs every time she shifted her hips, more grinding in his lap than outright riding him: he let himself slip into the pressure between C'helpa's body atop his own and the chair in which he sat, long tail poking out through the back and sweeping across the floor. One paw slipped up along her belly and chest, fingerpads pressing into the softness of skin and folds of flesh underneath, then up underneath the hanging heft of one of her breasts.

He partially opened his eyes, muzzle buried firm in the plush give of her other breast: just like he felt against his lips, tiny beaded trickles of wet warmth pocked out against his fingers where he poked and pressed there, the slightest pressure enough to massage the glands underneath and push C'helpa over into full production. He had heard her sigh and murmur a few minutes before, the familiar sensation shuddering through her body in response to his nosing, his nuzzling, his gentle licking and nipping and suckling across the side of her breast and over her broad areola, while the lapine continued grinding around him. Just the sensation of this supple slickness slurping around his length buried inside of her, with her occasionally pushing against his shoulders to lift up and then sink back down, body jiggling slightly, breath puffing out across his muzzle... he shivered again, swallowed, and turned his face more fully in against her breast.

"There you go, there you go..." C'helpa murmured, voice warm and sweet. She brought a paw up along the back of Lolo's head, fingers running through his hair, nudging into place, pulling him forward until the soft flesh of her breast squished out around his lips, supple yet slightly firm point of her nipple resting between his lips. "Slowly, now. I know you're thirsty, but..."

And it was hard to resist. Already Lolo felt as well as tasted the rich, bittersweet warmth of fresh milk seeping out across his lips, leaving slick streaks where it touched, quickly coating the inside of his mouth; he let a hungry sigh out from his nose, lifted deeper up into her - she gasped, shivered, and clenched around him, the wetness of her arousal continuing to soak into his pubic fur - and then finally swallowed. Just like the way it seeped out from bare flesh as though he were sucking on a waterlogged sponge, Lolo felt the warmth make its way down his throat and simmer in his belly.

Bit by bit, swallow by swallow, that feeling blossomed and grew, until every exhalation uttered from his lips parted around C'helpa's breast carried the same humid heat. Rich indeed, sweet and savory, with a touch of some kind of something buried underneath; through half-lidded eyes he glanced over to the other side of her chest, into which his blue-furred paw had by now completely sunk. Her hefty, plush flesh folded easily into the spaces between his fingers, with little rivulets of thick white trickling down between his knuckles, dripping together into a larger stream, and then from there following the arc of his arm down towards his elbow, off of which it dripped. He swallowed again, flicked his tongue out over his milky lips and her nipple, then squeezed in tighter with that other paw.

"...but... hah..." Above and around him C'helpa shivered again, tilting her head back. Long lapine ears draped across her chest, just now starting to slip back towards her shoulders as she resumed her original rhythm; Lolo lifted up and leaned forward, reciprocating the slow pulses of her hips on top of him with little thrusts of his own, pushing himself back into the chair as she lifted up then burying himself deep again when she settled back down.

Again and again he swallowed, now breathing open-mouthed around her swollen breast, upper lip braced against the soft, bumpy skin, tongue hanging out to catch the loose dribbles where they poured. Maybe less like a sponge, he thought, mind foggy with indulgent arousal, and more like a water balloon stuck with a great many tiny holes... if he put more pressure behind each squeeze, those dribbles of white sharpened into fuller squirts arcing out over his shoulder, spraying along his arm and dripping down his body, but Lolo preferred the sensation of the thick, slow leaks both over his paw as well as onto his tongue.

Quite a bit of the thick fluid had pooled in his mouth by now, sloshing back and forth, dribbling from the corners of his lips as he worked his hips against her. Lolo looked up to her, met her pleasure-clouded eyes, then pressed his tongue around her nipple again and swallowed, keeping his lips parted. Only afterwards did he clamp his maw down against her breast again, jaw held wide open to encompass as much of her dribbling areola as he could, swirling his tongue back and forth over the soft-firm bumps, drawing the warmth out from inside, feeling it push out against his cheeks and then slip down his throat again and again.

C'helpa's paw tightened on the back of his head to hold him even more firmly in place, to the point where Lolo had to adjust his angle so he still had room to breathe through his nose around the soft skin and flesh squishing up against him. Even with this little motion vibrating between the two he still felt himself drawn steadily closer to his peak, the intoxicating aroma and flavor of her fresh milk flooding his senses as heavily as his belly.

Her paw released his head and stroked along his hair down towards his shoulder. He looked up again. "Enjoying yourself?" C'helpa murmured, nearly breathless. "Since I certainly am..."

Thewonderingcanine - September

One of Shekh's footpaws kicked where he lay on the couch, then again with the arcing spike of sensation that jutted down into his loins. Attention already barely halfway on what he had put on the TV, the striped hyena squirmed, took in a breath through nostrils flared with tension, then finally grumbled and looked down. He shoved his thumbs underneath the waistband of his sweatpants and underwear and smoothly, swiftly pulled both of them down, lifting up just far enough to allow them to slip off. Immediately he let one leg drift down off the front of the couch, hanging balls stirring to occupy the opened space while his half-hard shaft thumped down against his lower belly - and the sensation shuddered through him again.

He bit his lip, grumbled under his breath, and reached down, angling himself up at the base with one forefinger and thumb while the other tugged at the folded, wrinkled overhang of his foreskin, slightly damp and tacky on the inside just the way he liked it. On reflex after doing so he lifted his thumb to his muzzle, took a quick sniff, and nodded to himself, then returned it to his shaft and poked and prodded at the slight misshapen bulge visible across the back of his head, as of something wrapped in underneath the supple, malleable skin and pressing out from inside.

It moved in response to his touch, making him gasp, arch his back, and throb all over again. Heart quickening, the hyena bit his lip, pinched another forefinger and thumb there at the tapered rim of loose-tight skin, and slowly slid it back, feeling it spread and pull gently across his head, widening open as it went. Pink flesh glistening with the wetness of half-arousal came into view - he readjusted his grip, his own natural slickness making this spot unreliable - and tugged down further, to the point where the elasticity shifted so that his foreskin pulled itself the rest of the way down... and then there stuck to the top side of his head was indeed a small figure, no taller than his thumb.

Even with as much overhang as he had, Shekh couldn't quite fully_fit the tiny foxwolf underneath there without some bits of him sticking out, so he had had to get a bit creative. Laying him down sideways underneath the rim of his head so that his legs stuck out and hugged the very bottom limit of his foreskin, then positioning him so that the slick skin drew up along his arms and head and held him in place there... it had been disorienting after finding this suspiciously small individual here at home, but the hyena had known _exactly what to do with him as soon as he got over the shock. So he had picked him up - the tiny thing had squirmed and made some noises, but Shekh couldn't be bothered to listen - then taken him into the bathroom, dropped his pants, slid his skin back with one paw, and arranged to press the small canid up against his head to seal him in place.

That hadn't worked so well, and the idea getting him worked up just restricted the allotted free space between skin and flesh. So Shekh had straightened up, looked at himself holding the small male by his scruff in the mirror, then had another idea: he had turned to the side, hoisted the small yellow-furred thing up, and spread his maw open, tongue out and saliva welling up within his mouth. He lowered him slowly in, dropped him there, clamped his lips shut, and then rolled him around and around, back and forth like a piece of hard candy, ensuring that he soaked through each one of his two and a half-ish inches before parting his lips, pushing him forward with his tongue, and again pinching him up.

From there it was much easier to fit him in and roll his foreskin forward over him, and now as Shekh peeled the small foxwolf away he found that the tiny male stuck to his sensitive skin, making him shiver and twitch all over again. Bits of yellow fur stuck in place at the rim of his head and between the wrinkles of his foreskin, gathering right where all the spare folds bunched up. Still holding the tiny figure in his other paw, he ran the pad of a thumb between those wrinkles and managed to scoop out some of the little tufts, along with a fair amount of gathered slick wetness.

Still he sniffed it, of course, and then brought the small foxwolf to his nose to do the same. The figure wriggled and flailed where he hung, apparently dismayed from the turn in events with his fur matted down and eyes wide, but the aroma hovering off of him, rich and warm and dank, tickled sweetly at Shekh's nostrils. He brought the figure closer, sniffed again at him, ran his nose up the tiny belly and chest towards the nape of his neck, then down again; a thin layer of grease rubbed off against his nose, working his own musk into place there, tinting each breath with it even further, until - another small touch poked through the familiar smell.

The hyena opened his eyes, sniffed again, tilted his head, and felt the small foxwolf's legs splay around his snout. Warmth slid down across his nostrils, then twitched and throbbed, and that scent strengthened again. He drew the figure back, let him swing for a moment, squinted to get a closer look, and saw that the foxwolf had apparently enjoyed his confinement as much as Shekh had, with his warm reddish-pink arousal twitching from the end of his sheath. Knowing he was caught, the diminutive canid flicked his ears and looked away.

Shekh grinned. This was good. He leaned back and lifted his hips again, once more drawing his foreskin back so he could position the foxwolf in place, this time pressed against his head from on top. Thick, supple folds slid easily up over his footpaws and legs, and when the slightly moist interior of the skin drew up across the smaller male's loins he made sure to press in just a bit; then up further until it wrapped over his belly and chest, and pinched in at his shoulders, and - he craned his head up and away from the overlapping folds as they squished up underneath his chin.

That made the hyena smirk. Turtleneck indeed, he thought, squeezing in place there, and then starting to draw everything right back down. Slightly sticky inner skin stuck to the foxwolf's fur, pulling and tugging at first before giving way and smoothly rolling down - then back up, and down again, and up again, shifting him gently, making him squirm where he was caught.

Shekh lay back again, a shaky sigh dribbling from his parted lips while he continued stroking. There was so much to do.