Nightime Excursion
Shadows flickered gloomily from the bobbing torch, the flames dancing pitifully as its fuel burned away, seemingly in spite of the cold night air. The torch stopped moving then swung violently, almost guttering to a halt, distorting the shadows even more as the Tiger holding it waved it behind him, scanning the cold, stone corridor behind him. Ancient suits of metal stood eternally still at set intervals, the dying torch making their shadows writhe and twist, as if the sentinels of the past had not fully departed from this world.
With an almost imperceptible shrug he turned round and carried on walking, the steady rustle of mail and the bobbing of his torch casting evidence of his coming to any ahead of him. As the faint sound of the guard leaving echoed into silence a small flame appeared, held over a small parchment with a rough sketch on it. Dark green eyes glittered in reflection of the light from the match as the wolf studied his map intently.
He hadn't needed to worry too much about the guards, their equipment made a loud enough racket that he could hear them several corridors away and torches were as useful for finding hidden people as for them to avoid the bearers. Not to mention the ridged timeline they followed, allowing him to slip through the outside guards without detection. The wolf almost snorted in disgust then stopped himself, scratching his dark grey furred neck idly. Most of the guards were obvious, making themselves easily known before they even arrived on scene, but it was overconfidence that cost most of those in his profession their lives, assumptions were dangerous, and so, better safe than sorry.
His positioned burned into his mind, the map reconfirmed, the wolf slid from behind the suit of armour he was hiding behind and walked slowly down the corridor, sparing a second to glance at the armour that had hidden him. Tempered steel formed multiple, interlocking plates on which rested the Lord of the mansions crest - A longsword diagonally across a black paw, claws revealed, on top of a red background.
The thief allowed a small smile to cross his lips as he moved silently down the corridor, eyes and ears straining for the slightest hint of a approaching guard. Felines and Canines, the two were the most common species of the Empire and if it weren't for the strict laws and death penalties attached to them, the empire would suddenly find itself in a civil war. The two races didn't mix, which was why the wolf found such delight in the irony of being saved by a suit of one of their Sentinels.
The wolf paused at a t-junction and listened, hearing nothing he carefully moved round the corner, pausing as he entered a well lit corridor, fanciful livery hanging from the walls and a plush carpet draping the floor. If the wolf hadn't already traversed these corridors, in another life, another time, he would have been stunned at the sudden transition but then, the mansion was built from the foundations of a destroyed castle, the remnants having been left to time while the newer parts were decorated.
It did mean however, that the place was heavily fortified, and the interior a maze which only was only helpful if you knew where you were going and the enemy did not. Not hearing anything but the crackle of the torches lining the corridor the thief moved forwards, body low, one hand forwards and another hidden within the creases of his clothing.
As he approached the end of the corridor at another junction the sound of heavy footsteps and grunting came to his ears and he flattened himself against the closest wall. He was in the open, partially illuminated by the torches, all it would take was a glance to see him and the briefest yell to alert the rest of the guard.
However, as the guard stumbled by, head down adjusting his sword belt, cursing under his breath, he never even looked towards the thief, instead continuing down the corridor away from the thief.
He breathed a quiet sigh of relief; no matter how much you memorised a route, how good you were or how bad the defences were, all of it was nothing compared to luck, it could make or break a heist. He had barely taken a step forwards after the guard had disappeared beyond sight before he literally stepped into another feline guard, the young lion gasped in surprise, taking a few seconds to click his brain into gear.
For the thief this was all the time he needed as his instincts kicked in, left paw darting out and grabbing the unprotected throat, constricting the outgoing yell to a quiet gasp, while his right drew out a small knife, whipping it against the guards arm. The slight blade sliced easily through the leather armour, and the guard's eyes drew wide as he felt the poison taking affect. Slipping the blade back into it's hidden sheath the thief used his free hand to hold the struggling guard free while his other gently choked him of enough air to cry out.
Within several tens of seconds the guard's eyes closed wearily and he stopped trying to struggle free, and the thief eased him to the floor gently. Stooping he checked the breathing and nodded to himself; death was permanent, forever, and could not be taken back. If possible he always aimed at avoiding conflict altogether but when situations arose, his blades, coated in a fast acting knock out toxin, came in use. There was also the slight bonus in that to acquire his target without bloodshed was a much harder challenge than simply wading in blood.
The wolf didn't give the guard another look, and moved up the corridor the two had come down from. Two rights and a left, one anti-chamber and then the room that concealed his prize. That was the route he'd chosen from the map but, as any veteran of thievery would tell you, 'plan's never survive contact with the enemy'. The two right corners came and went by, the wolf using the frequent alcoves to hind behind when a pair on patrol came and went by. But when he tried to turn left he found a dead-end instead; fresh mortar and brick covered what had once been the entrance to another corridor, his easiest route to the treasury.
Quietly growling to himself he checked the map, resisting the urge to raise his voice. The only other route available to him, in the time he estimated he had before the guard he'd knocked out would be found, would take him right past the Lord's study and sleeping quarters. And from the little he knew of the Lord, he could be a light sleeper, or even take to midnight walks for all he knew.
The thief gave himself a couple seconds to mull it over before continuing down the corridor. He was too far-gone to turn back now with nothing, and the route he'd planned to leave by was in this general direction anyway. Best keep going and hope for the best.
Two corners later, and another trick of hiding behind a suit of the overly common armour to avoid a servant, and the thief had reached the corridor that contained the Lord's private rooms. And yet strangely there were no guards patrolling here, no sentries either. The wolf could feel the hair on the back of his neck rise slightly. There was Always sentries posted on the doors to private room, unless called off on urgent business or there was no need for them, and even then they would most likely still be there ceremonially. Which meant they had been called off for a reason since he knew the Lord would be home tonight.
He could think of several reasons off the top of his head for this, but without further knowledge it was all speculation. He made to turn round and head for the exit but hesitated, the small, calculating part of his mind telling him it would have been for nothing, that there wasn't anything to sneaking through a few corridors, but the thrill lay further onwards.
Rolling his shoulders the wolf eased some of his tension then moved at a near sprint, yet barely making a sound as his heavily padded feet crossed the carpeted stone corridor. And then he was pass the doors, his irrational feeling of danger almost making him laugh as he halted at the final corner and looked round and quickly withdrew as he saw a lone sentry standing rock still by the door.
One second later a small, curved knife was in his paw. Another second later it left his paw, to slash the guard half a second later across the cheek. The guard immediately dropped paralysed to the floor, shock preventing him from crying out anything louder than a weak gasp. Two seconds later and the wolf had reached the guard and, placing a paw over his mouth, poked him in the hand with a blade.
After the guard had fallen asleep, the wolf took a moment to admire his accuracy, the paralytic agent having need to be applied into the blood stream in the head. Inch higher and he would have hit the helm, inch lower and it would have killed the guard as it hit the throat.
The wolf then concentrated on the job at hand and looked at the door in front of him. A simple oak door, which as the thief turned the handle and pushed, swung smoothly inwards revealing a plain anti-chamber, the only furniture being a small table with a chair. The walls were plain and the carpet identical to that which lined the corridors. And across from him, a heavy metal door, undoubtedly locked.
The thief bent and dragged the guard inside, closing the door behind him, and took a moment to search the guards body, quickly finding a key that seemed the same metal and colour of the door. It was almost a tragedy how people thought; keep a guard by the door so he can open it for you, and yet all one had to do was knock him out and take the key for themselves.
The key fit the lock and turned, a solid clank signalling it unlocked, and as the door slowly opened the thief's gaze took in the sight of a Lord's wealth and treasure. Gold coins and jewerally were almost liberally scattered on a large table spanning one side of the room. On the opposite side were several bookshelves filled with ageing scrolls and on the floor a dozen chests sat, each with their own lock. But the wolf's eyes held party to one thing only, directly across from him, interspersed between several dozen glass cases sat one particular object.
The wolf walked forwards slowly and ran a paw along the case, letting his fears and worries wash away with memories as he took in the sight of two short swords and the sheaves. The metal, despite years of life gleamed like the day it came from the forge, ancient runic writing etched along the blade, with a howling wolf's head on each of the swords pommels.
For once the thief didn't bother with subtlety, instead using the pommel of one of his knives to break open the case. Pulling out the swords one by one the wolf cleaned them carefully of the glass shards before sheathing them and attaching them to his belt, whispering to himself as he did so.
Finished the wolf looked around the room briefly before dusting off his hand, "Too easy." He chuckled quietly, and yet, he ignored everything else left on display, ripe for the taking and headed for the door, his mind ignoring his growing unease.
"I truly am surprised." A quiet voice said from behind the wolf, who halfway through the statement had turned, a knife flying from each paw towards the source of the voice. But instead struck the frame of a bookcase. After a brief glance the thief turned and made a dash towards the anti-chamber but froze as two words made themselves clear in his mind as the voice spoke them.
"Lord Tiron." The wolf stopped in mid-stride, eyes widening, He knows. That left him with only two options; surrender or... his paws, already decided, went to his sides and swiftly drew the two swords as he turned watching a sleek, black furred feline move out from behind the bookcase, a simple long-sword in his paw.
"Please, Lord Tiron, I know that you prefer to avoid bloodshed, and if you do defeat me you won't make it past the rest of the guard that are now filling the corridor outside." Tiron paused, his ears twitching, and true to the panther's word he could now hear the shuffling and clanking of weapons, guards attempting to move silently en masse outside. "Lord Tiron of kire, will you please out the swords down, they are more ceremonial than worthy of actual combat."
The wolf smiled thinly at the partial use of his title, the use of it intended to distract him. "If you know of me then you'll likely know of my record. I surrender and I may as well slice my own throat here and now." The Panther grimaced, "I know that; I do not want for your death, merely to... talk."
Tiron couldn't help it but burst out with laughter, "you want to 'talk' to the thief that just broke into your house and almost made off with some of your 'ceremonial swords.'" The last two words came out filled with spite as the wolf's eyes narrowed, the brief moment of laughter gone.
The Panther sighed bitterly, "Lord Tiron, we are both of the same station, killing you would cause as many problems as it would solve. You're a wolf and I'm a panther, news that the two of us had fought would rile up the lower classes. It's not as simple as handing you over to the prison. Please, all I want to is to talk, can't you reign in your stubborn mind for a moment to allow that."
Tiron considered it for a moment then sheathed his swords, though didn't remove them altogether. "So, Lord Rye, lets talk." He said, folding his arms. Rye sighed, "I wanted to talk in my study, instead of around so much..." he searched for the word, "distractions." "I like standing right here fine thank you."
Rye thought about it then put forwards, "If I asked you to sit down with me in my study and allowed you to keep your swords?" "Your guards would allow that?" "What do you think I'm doing right now?" Tiron thought about it then nodded in agreement, it would let him see how many guards there were anyway." "Lead on."
The panther moved forwards, keeping enough distance between the two to avoid any sudden lunge and went through the anti-chamber and opened the door, from which poured through a dozen guards, weapons raised as they quickly surrounded Tiron. "Can't suppose you would reconsider disarming would you?" "No."
Rye turned to his gaurds, "Leave him be; post sentries in the corridor outside my study and keep vigilant for sounds of fighting." Tiron was somewhat impressed as he saw the guards struggling to contain their protests and then, with a weary nod, created a path for Tiron to leave the room.
As Tiron followed Rye, Rye spoke almost casually, "While I was thankful that you would attempt to avoid killing any guards I still had problems convincing the captain to post the newest recruits on tonight's patrol roster." "That explains some things." "You're wondering how I recognise you?" "That's among the list questions I want answered."
Rye simply grinned and opened the door to his study, Tiron following him in and looking around with mild surprise. The room was rather quaint, a round table in the center of the room with several chairs, and the walls filled with bookcases, all stacked roof high with scrolls, books and various equipment. On top of the table sat a glass pitcher filled with water and some glasses.
"Please, sit. Have a drink" Tiron for once didn't argue and sat down in a chair opposite Rye, placing his two swords, still sheathed, on the table in front of him, quickly followed by several knifes from the hidden pockets in his clothing and proceeded to pour himself a glass. "Is that really necessary?" Tiron simply nodded his head towards the sword that Rye left leaning against the table as he emptied his glass then refilled it. "Fine. As for how I recognised you, did you really expect people not to recognise you from the party I held two weeks ago?" Tiron shrugged modestly, "It happens. People don't seem to be able to make the connection between me in fancy clothes and in these," he gestured to his skin tight clothing. "What I want to know is how you were prepared for me."
Rye chuckled, "I'm sorry Lord Tiron, but you've become infamous recently. Nearly everyone knows about your night-time excursions, especially your own staff, and yet no-one has evidence enough to take you in and no-ones stupid enough to mention it to your face." "Well that explains the weird looks I was getting recently." Admitted Tiron, it was a matter of time he supposed. "A matter of time? From what we know you've broken into nearly 20 homes over the last year alone!" Tiron grinned, revealing his sharp, ivory teeth. "More like 80 in the last two years." Laughing at the stunned look on Rye's face.
"Your rich enough as it is, what possible reason could you have to break into that many?!" Tiron leant back, considering the question he often asked himself; for some reason Lord Rye was making him feel really relaxed, and he decided to answer truthfully, not much point hiding it anyway. "It's not for the riches, more that I'm bored." "You broke into my house because you were bored!"
Tiron looked at the swords on the table, "Normally, but this particular house, not fully." Rye caught the look, "What attachment could you have to those swords? I know they were crafted by the wolf tribes in your lands but they can't be worth the risk." "You called these ceremonial swords, not worthy of real combat. These blades have drunk more blood than your guards combined, they've seen the fields of Ryhelion, the siege of Sun Rock, the massacre of the Sabers."
Rye stared at Tiron as he recounted some of the more recent, most devastating battles from the last decade, and realisation quickly came to him. "You wielded these blades yourself?" Tiron drew one blade then the other, reading off the inscriptions, "'As she rises, know how to draw the blood.' 'As she falls, know how to quell the blood.' These blades have been in my family for ten generations, and I lost them in a stupid gambling bet."
"You lost your family heirlooms in a bet!" Rye was becoming more incredulous by the minute. "It was just after a battle, my friends a I joined another brigade to drink with, we started gambling knifes instead of money and I lost an all in."
Rye stared at him then grinned, "Well that helps explain why all you stole was the swords, I was expecting you to at least take some gold. I must say, your very open for someone in your position." Tiron chuckled, "If I'm facing the chance of death why not be honest," he shrugged then frowned, "I am surprised that you seem so relaxed, every feline at your party seemed to either be on the verge of assaulting me or running in fear. I was surprised to be invited actually."
Rye laughed loud and long, "That was why I invited you! The world needs to stop this senseless squabbling between our kinds, I thought it might help by inviting both felines and canines to the party. Worked quite well though not in the way I thought, I was approached by both kinds warning me about you."
Tiron chuckled, "So much for being subtle." "Yes, well, all you only needed to have explained about the swords and I would have given them to you." "And miss out on the midnight walks? Not likely." He said, causing both to laugh.
"Though," continued Tiron after they had both quietened down, "I must ask why we're talking like this and not with me on the other side of metal bars." Tiron swore that as he said this, he could detect a faint reddening beneath the sleek black fur of Rye's cheeks. "Ah, there are several reasons for this I suppose. Firstly was that I was simply curious to meet another open minded individual, one who didn't have such prejudices against other species. Then there was also that if you were taken to prison, despite being a Lord, the result would likely be a death sentence and I don't want blood on my paws."
Tiron nodded, taking another sip of his drink. "There's also the thing about my strange tastes." "Eh?" "When I said I invited you for a reason I didn't even know about your night time habit. I invited you because of your preferences." "Preferences?" Tiron was confused now. Rye shook his head sadly, "You should know by now that nothing stays secret for long. Everyone knows of your midnight excursions, everyone knows of your stint in the military, everyone knows your favourite food, everyone knows your sexual preferences-" "What!" choked out Tiron in a strangled voice.
Rye cocked his head to the side, "You weren't aware? Don't you remember the Lizard war? Sometime towards the end, you'd just helped take their last castle and you joined in the celebrations with your soldiers instead off other nobles." "Oh. That." Tiron knew exactly what he was talking about; a dozen wolves, all drunk and still high on adrenaline from the battle. It wasn't his first time nor last but it was the biggest group he'd ever been with. And most public; he'd made the soldier swear not to say but all it would have taken was someone seeing him enter their tent and listen to the howling to know what happened.
"Yes. Again, everyone knows but no-one was mad enough to say it to your face." "And you're mad enough?" "Well I suppose I'm mad enough to have taken a liking to you." "I think I'm going mad." Said Tiron, unable to believe what he was hearing.
Rye smiled grimly, "No, you're not going mad. I'm not sure about you but I've been trying Very hard to keep a stable image. You know how hard it is to find a gay noble? Let alone get him into your house without a huge fanfare? Though I suppose our meeting could have been more subtle..."
"Your really are serious about this." Said Tiron bluntly. "I never pretended not to be." "If I say no what will happen?" Rye seemed divided on the situation as he opened his mouth several times and closed it before finally answering, "You broke into my house, assaulted me with a pair of stolen weapons. The guards know about you and I doubt they will stay quiet for long. If I try and keep it a secret I'll be implicated as well."
"Then I'm doomed no matter what?" "Well, if I can convince the guards that it was a simple misunderstanding, and pay those you knocked out to remain silent. Possibly transfer them somewhere nicer, you might not go to prison."
Tiron leaned back smiling, despite the tension the subject was making his blood flow and he could feel himself getting turned on, simply by the suggestion. "And by 'misunderstanding', you mean we resolve our differences in a very explicit manner."
"The walls are thick but the doors sure aren't. They'll hear and understand." "They won't be angry about me being a wolf?" "I employ open minded people. I'm guessing that's a yes?" For Tiron it was a case of win-win. He wouldn't go to prison and he was starting to like Rye, and after the two months without having someone to bed he'd been getting hungry to mate with someone.
"I don't see anything wrong with a little fun." Rye grinned, blue eye's sparkling in anticipation. He stood up and gestured towards another door, "useful having a bedroom right next to the study." "Yeah, I've noticed that," chuckled Tiron as he followed Rye, the pair of them leaving their weapons on the table as they entered Rye's bedroom. The floor was covered in a lush carpet and the walls lined with various bookshelves, desks and cabinets. But what the two Lords walked towards was the king sized bed at the end of the room.
Tiron raised an eyebrow as Rye started stripping while he was walking, throwing his garments across the room. "Eager are we?" Rye smiled, "Why waste time with clothes?" "Good point," admitted Tiron, who, in several quick motions, removed his black clothing, watching with amusement as Rye who was sliding off his own underwear, stared at his full, naked body.
"I thought I was eager," Rye commented slyly after he shook himself out of his reverie. Tiron didn't bother to reply and simply stood there, tail wagging softly and his red tip peaking out of his furry sheath atop a pair of heavy balls.
Moving forwards, himself now naked as well, his own red tip glistening with pre as it poked out of its sheath, he pushed Tiron gently against the bed so he was sitting on it. And then, moving slowly, he kneeled down in between Tirons' legs and snaked a paw forwards.
Tiron shivered and held in a gasp as he felt Ryes' paw lightly brush his sheath, moving ever slowly upwards until it brushed his tip, pulling a bead of pre of it. Rye, with deliberate slowness, pulled his tip to his mouth and licked the bead of pre off his paw. "Delicious." Tiron had to resist his desire to pull Ryes' head into his crotch at that time, it had been to long since he'd last had release, and instead grinned, "There's a lot more where that came from."
"Let's tease it out then, shall we?" he moved one of his paws forwards and cupped Tirons' sack within it, feeling the heaviness of the balls within. Meanwhile his other paw snaked out and gently gripped Tirons' sheath, smiling as he felt Tiron tense and shiver in his paw. Ever so slowly he started to squeeze gently and roll the balls around within his paw, simultaneously moving his other paw up and down, watching the cock slowly growing, inch by inch.
Tiron growled quietly in pleasure, the Panther didn't seem one for rushing things, which was fine with him. Rye moved his paw up and down, stroking the finely furred sheath, feeling as well as watching the cock growing from within. After several strokes he moved his paw up to the tip, feeling the heat pulsing from the cock.
With tantalising slowness he moved his head forwards and breathed onto the cock, smelling the heavy, musky odour emanating from his groin. Tiron had to hold himself from simply face-fucking the Panther then and there, feeling the breath sending ripples of pleasure through him. "Stop being such a tease," he growled.
"But then there is little to appreciate in the mating," chuckled Rye. However he obeyed Trions' wish and leant forwards, running his tongue along the several inches of cock jutting from the sheath, causing a loud growl of pleasure to escape Tiron, the feeling of the rough feline cock lapping at his cock, the Panther almost greedily licking the pre of his tip with each movement. Rye swallowed the pre that was now almost freely flowing from the cock, savouring the strange sweetness of it, the taste a subtle difference to that of felines.
After a couple laps he moved his head forwards and engulfed the growing shaft within his maw, curling his tongue around the cock and squeezing it gently before running it along the shaft, drinking down the pre as it flowed from the tip in a near stream now.
Tiron growled low and long in pleasure as he felt Ryes' head bob gently on his cock, the rough texture of his tongue racketing up the pleasure. One of his paws moved out and rested on Ryes' head, gently scratching the Panther between the ears and grinning as he heard and felt the feline start purring on his cock.
"Damn your good," he groaned as he felt a particular spike of pleasure ride up through him as one of Ryes' paws started to gently squeeze on his developing knot. Rye pulled back for a moment, revealing the glistening 9 inches of canine cock he had been sucking on, "Damn your big." Tiron grinned in appreciation before pushing Ryes' head back down onto his cock.
Rye went down eagerly, bobbing his head up down quickly, gulping down the masses of pre that flowed from the canine. He was an oddity among the feline Lords; It wasn't unknown for people to be gay, though it was rarer up the ranks, what made him odd was that he lacked the animosity against the Canines that most Felines had. Though few knew it went further than that.
Tiron could feel himself rapidly approaching his peak as the feline masterfully worked his shaft, the damp warmth of his muzzle, the constricting tongue, making him shiver in lust and pleasure. Rye noticing this moved his paw around the wolfs' knot and squeezed listening with delight as the wolf Lord tipped back his head and let out a howl of release and his shaft throbbed as he came in the Panthers' mouth, thick hot ropes of seed quickly filling the space then disappearing as Rye desperately swallowed and repeated to stop himself from choking, the option of retreat not helped by the firm grip Tiron had on his head.
It didn't take long before Rye started to become worried, the seed was incredibly rich in flavour but the amounts coming from the wolf was overwhelming and he was running out of breath fast. Gradually though, the flow of seed lessened and Tiron seemed to come to his senses and let Rye pull back, causing the last few spurts to shoot onto his face, contrasting against the blackness of the Panthers'' fur.
Rye pulled back and stood up so he was face to face with Tiron then wiped a paw down his face and licked it clean of the seed it collected watching Tirons' grin grow with amusement. "Delicious." "I'm glad you liked it."
Rye liked his lips and ran a paw along Tirons' spent length, covering it with excess seed then running the same paw along his own, rock hard cock, all in full view of Tiron who didn't need much more of a hint and scuttled backwards slightly on the bed so he was now lying down across its full length.
Rye climbed onto the bed and moved up until he was nose to nose with Tiron, griding his cock into Tirons' as he closed the distance between their mouths. The pair groaned into the kiss, as their cocks ground against each other, Tirons' cock quickly re-hardening. As Ryes' tongue entered Tirons' mouth Tiron could taste remnants of his seed as he battled the tongue with his own, pushing it out of the way and into Ryes' mouth, licking along the sharp teeth and tasting his own seed.
Without breaking the kiss Rye pulled backwards slightly, feeling his cock rubbing down the along the balls and slipping into Tirons' cleft until it was poking the tight puckered ass. Rye didn't let up for a second, instead pressing forwards so that his lubed tip slipped into Tirons' depths making them both groan loudly as Rye broke the kiss.
Rye shivered almost with delight as he felt the warm anal walls clamping around his tip, and the pressure didn't lessen as he gradually pushed in, sinking inch after inch of feline cock into the wolf. Tiron growled lightly as he felt the Panther above him filling him with that warm cock, seeming to purr as he pushed in the final inch, hilting the wolf.
"You're a tight fit," purred Rye, pausing to let Tiron adjust. Tiron simply grinned back, enjoying the sensation of being filled; Rye wasn't as big in size or girth as the wolves he had been with before, but there a sleek texture to the feline which made it an altogether more pleasurable experience.
Tiron opened his mouth to reply but Rye pulled out at this action, the barbs lining his cock scraping the wolf's inside walls, making him gasp in pain and pleasure. Rye paused with just his tip remaining in the wolf watching Tiron blink and recover, "That's new..." "We may not have the best finale, but it's a lot more memorable the journey to it," chuckled Rye as he sank himself gently into the wolf.
He shifted slightly as he felt Ryes' ball lightly slap his ass, "Harder." he ordered, his voice trailing out into another moan as Rye pulled out. "As you wish," he said, wasting no time after leaving just the tip in before pushing back in, harder and faster than before, then without waiting, pulled back out again.
The wolfs head laid back, tongue hanging out of his maw as the Panther rapidly built up his rhythm, moaning as he thrust in and out of the tight ass below him. For Tiron it was an experience unheard of, the spines scraping his insides sending ripples of pleasure making him shudder and moan with every pull back.
Rye began to pick the rhythm up to it's peak, rapidly slamming into the wolf below him, their voices becoming one long drawn out groan of lust as he felt himself nearing his climax. Tiron could feel Ryes' rhythm breaking up, becoming ragged short hard thrusts until, with a piercing yowl, Rye sank his full length into the wolf as he came.
Heavy, thick ropes of cum burst from the throbbing cock as Rye cummed, quickly filling the wolfs' insides with its warmth, only a light trickle escaping from around the cock as it remained in, acting like a plug. Tiron moaned as he felt himself swell slightly before the feline finally came to a stop and collapsed atop him.
"That was fun," said Rye tiredly. Tiron chuckled in reply, "Yeah, it was." Rye felt Tirons' paws close around his sides and looked at him slightly confused. Tiron then flipped them around so he was on top, "My turn now," he growled, pulling himself off Rye with a groan and a shlurp as seed started to leak from his tail hole.
Rye smiled up at him, "Sure-" he ended with a gasp as Tiron had wasted no time in sliding back and thrusting in with no mercy, sinking half his length within the Panther in one push. "Big..." gapsed Rye quietly, his eyes wide with surprise. "And you thought I was tight," grunted Tiron as he kept pushing in until he felt his knot bumping against the tail hole. Rye moaned then blinked as realisation hit him, "Is that what I think it is?" "Yep," chuckled Tiron, "Don't worry though, I won't shove it in," Rye sighed slightly with relief, "Just yet."
Tiron pulled out slowly, marvelling at how tight the Panther was, he hadn't felt such an ass since taking one of his virgin soldiers. He didn't wait more than a moment after pulling out so just his tip remained in, being crushed like it was in a vice, before plunging back in, growling with pleasure.
He wasted little time in building up a rapid rhythm, rapidly plunging himself into the Panther, a low, constant growl rumbling from his throat. Rye was almost lost in the sensation of the moment, the wolf filling his rear repeatedly with that, thick, hot rod of his, the knot bumping repeatedly at his hole, begging for entrance. And then something brought him slightly out of his haze.
Without breaking from his humping the wolf had lowered his head and was lapping at the cleft between his shoulder and neck, lathering it with his saliva. He opened his mouth to raise a question but Tiron growled like a feral and gave a vicious thrust, making his knot stretch Rye slightly more than before, almost making entryway and Ryes' voice came out as a long, drawn out groan.
Tiron continued lapping near Ryes' neck, his mind hazed over with lust as he furiously mated the Panther below him, a single minded devotion to breed him. His tongue lathering the Panther with his saliva, matting the fur down as his hips moved harder and harder, seeking entry for his knot.
Rye blinked in surprise as Tiron suddenly stopped licking, and then, without any warning, bit down, just hard enough to draw blood. Simultaneously, he gave a sudden, furious thrust and instead of relenting, kept pushing, forcing his knot in with a plop. Ryes eyes rolled back as he gasped in pain and pleasure as he was stretched beyond all reason.
Several short thrusts later Tiron lifted his head back and let out a thunderous howl, his cock pulsing as he let loose a tidal wave of hot, sticky seed, rapidly filling up the Panther below him. Rye groaned as he felt himself swell slightly from the sheer amount of cum the Wolf was emptying into him, the knot and teeth clamped on him holding him in place.
Eventually, after Rye was actually starting to get worried as he continued to swell, the Wolf finally ceased cumming, and pulled his head back from Rye, staring into his eyes as the cloud of lust and ecstasy washed away. "Sorry," he said almost sheepishly. Rye sighed tiredly, feeling the warmth of the seed and cock still trapped inside of him, his shoulder burning and yet not hurting for some reason. He should have remembered that canines were a little rough playing. "No problem. A bit of warning next time though, and hopefully you won't be so pent up next time," he chuckled. "Next time," Tiron tasted the words in his mouth and grinned, "Sure, why not?"
Tiron shifted his body, making Rye gasp slightly with pleasure as he laid down beside him, the knot tugging at Ryes' ass. "Haven't had so much fun for a long time." "Might explain why you seemed so pent up," smiled Rye, rubbing a paw along his belly, feeling the swell from the shear amount of seed within him.
"So. Same time next week?" asked Tiron grinning toothily. "Well, I was thinking I don't have anything on tomorrow..." Tiron laughed and kissed Rye on the top of his head, "That sounds brilliant."
"One more thing though." "Yes?" "Please use the front door next time."