A Learning Experience

Story by Amethyst Mare on SoFurry

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Families are rarely simple and this is no exception.

Warning for M/M rape and M/M consensual loving too. Implied M/F.

First three chapters written by: http://www.furaffinity.net/user/parodar

Characters (c) to and story written for Tkitcs! http://www.furaffinity.net/user/tkitcs/

This story (c) me


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Chapter 1: http://www.furaffinity.net/view/4906634/ Chapter 2: http://www.furaffinity.net/view/4971377/ Chapter 3: http://www.furaffinity.net/view/5257692/ First three chapters written by Parodar : http://www.furaffinity.net/user/parodar

This is chapter number four and chapter five will be written up and linked to later.

A Learning Experience

Written by Amethyst Mare for tkitcs

Robbie stomped into his room with a frustrated growl, throwing his one-shoulder bag on to the narrow bed; it bounced and fell still, the loose flap dropping open. The green dinosaur sat heavily on the edge of the bed, the frame creaking obscenely, and ran his paw over the Mohawk-like spikes that lined the crest of his skull. It had been a rough day to say the least and every part of his body, even that prominent crest, ached with a deep-set tiredness that could not be warded off by any amount of caffeine. Dragging his bag closer - rumpling the bed sheets in the process - Robbie dug through his bag, searching for his old phone, as a casual friend of his, Scott, had promised to get hold of a new flick for him and it would certainly brighten up his afternoon if he had something loud and explosive as a distraction.

His groping fingers closed around a thin, cool sliver that he thought was his phone but, when he pulled it from the bag, he found that it was a smaller, sleeker model in a classy silver shade - not his weary box phone at all.

"How the hell did I get hold of Charlene's phone again?" He grumbled, turning it on anyway and tip-tapping his fingers impatiently as he waited for it to boot up. "And where the heck is mine, if hers is here? Damn it!"

He would not have snooped into his sister's phone normally (well, there was that one time that he had read her text messages, which was a revelation in itself) but he knew that she had Scott's number in there somewhere: Charlene had everyone's number. His larger fingers were clumsy on the petite touch screen and he muttered ill-temperedly to himself, wishing that he could find the contact list, which seemed determined to slip away from his fingers. Instead of the contact list, an album of pictures popped on the screen, automatically running a slide show of the most recent images. He swore.

What appeared was not something that Robbie would have expected to find on Charlene's phone and, had he known about these shots, he would not have touched her phone with a ten foot pole. In glaring high-definition, or it might as well have been, on the screen was his naked sister with her green frills flushed with colour. Nothing bad about that but in her open mouth was unmistakably an erect cock of some dark green scaled male - unidentifiable, of course. She had her mouth open wide to accommodate the thick, dark length and there was a shiny trail of pearly liquid streaked across her muzzle that suggested that it was not the first time that she had taken that male's dick in her mouth during the 'photo shoot'.

"What the... Hell." Robbie gulped, pressing all the touch-screen buttons on the tiny phone in a desperate attempt to go back to the main screen and away from the explicit picture. He shouldn't be looking at this. But who the hell was she with? Did he know them?

Having the picture stubbornly remain upon the screen, however, was like looking at a car crash; he couldn't tear himself away. Curiosity was a bitch. Swallowing hard and glancing about suspiciously as if he suspected that someone might be watching him, Robbie carefully flicked the tip of his finger across the screen, 'scrolling' to the next photograph, which was even better, if such a thing in such a situation could be deemed positive. It depicted Charlene on all fours with the grey-black cock buried in her pussy, a close-up shot so that neither participant could be identified if he had not known beforehand that it was his sister. A trickle of cum seeped from her pussy as the male seemed to pull back, mid-photograph to thrust deeply into Charlene's needy pussy. Robbie shook himself: he was putting his own thoughts into these pictures.

He could not help it - he wanted to be the one there taking these photos of the two of them. Even more than that, he wanted to be there, on all fours and sucking that cock, just to see how it tasted... He had no experience to draw on and he blushed heavily as he accepted the thoughts with surprising ease because it was not the first time that he had drifted into unfamiliar waters. Robbie's dreams had forever drifted between between straight and outright gay liaisons and he itched to feel the tongue of another male stroking the firm length of his member (an act that he was more than curious to return). He had always thought that he was straight but...sometimes events and emotions told a different story, one that had not gone down well with another dinosaur, his now ex-girlfriend.

Dragging his thoughts away from that particular territory, Robbie paused on the next photo, a shot of Charlene pushing her delicious, paler green breasts together while the male dino ejaculated over them, cum splattering the upper curve in a lewd design. Truth be told, the majority of his attention was on Charlene and the 'action' of the picture, so it took him a few seconds to notice something more unusual about this specific shot. Why was there a pair of bare legs, belonging to a third dino, in some of those pictures? They had not been alone? Were they male or female? Holding his breath, Robbie gave a little sigh of disappointment as it seemed that he had come to the end of the raunchy pictures; he had held a faint hope for a threesome picture, considering everything that was going on.

The front door slammed, rattling the window frame, and he jumped, fumbling with the phone guiltily. That could only be Charlene. Hoping against hope that she would not enter his room without invitation, he shakily sent a copy of the images to his own phone, wherever it was. He would look at them later, at his leisure, and perhaps do a little more than look once he had the house to himself.

"Hey..." Robbie's voice broke and he coughed, preparing to try again. "Hey, Charlene? I've got your phone here. Picked it up by accident earlier. You wanna come...and get it?" He cringed at how false and anxious his own voice sounded, as if it came from an actor in a low budget film.

What's gotten into him? Charlene though as she ascended the stairs, running a paw over her stubby, upright frill. It didn't matter to her, however - she had plenty more to think about as Robbie knew all too well now.

*

The street was dark, only lit by the dim row of street lamps spaced at intervals along both sides of the road. Robbie walked with his head down and the hood of his navy coat pulled up as far over his crest as it would go, weariness showing in his tired plod; as he walked, he barely lifted his feet high enough to clear the ground. He never usually stayed out so late - it was not his 'thing', as friends would say. But they had asked him to go out and he had thought that it would help him forget about being lonely for a while, as most recently single people were apt to think. Truly, he had nothing to really complain about as he had been the one to dump his scaly girlfriend in the first place, but he had never had a choice in the matter. Quite simply, she had started to suspect that he was bi-sexual. How could he have stayed with her when suspicions like that were rearing their ugly heads? What would she have said to others if she had been able to confirm it? Maybe he had been hasty in his decision, though he thought grimly that hindsight was a really wonderful thing: it left you with everything that one should have done or could have done, but never the space in which to alter the course of events. He missed her. Maybe things would not have gone badly if he had been honest with her? At least his friends had sympathetically plied him with drink, laughter and distraction in the form of several games of pool. Their exploits were certainly enough to tease his mind into blissful forgetfulness for a time.

Fuck, he thought suddenly, stopping dead in his tracks beneath a flickering street lamp. Mom will be wondering where I am... And I still haven't found my damn phone. Where can I...

His thoughts trailed off as he paused outside another bar, a loud hum of voices buzzing within as if from a hive. It was a bar that he had passed by many times before and ducked his head to avoid any 'saurs entering or exiting; he was not sure what exactly made him so anxious to walk by this place as quickly as possible, but it was, for want of a better word, a gay bar - veggie, as they would call it. He hadn't exactly seen anyone threatening around the place, but his scalp prickled every time he trotted past, eyes shifting from one patron to the next. Not that he had anything against gay dinos, but it made him nervous to be around others with inclinations that he had tried so hard to suppress, or so he told himself. Robbie looked back and forth between the shadowed street and the bright lights of the pub, figures bobbing on the other side of the smeared windows. Nothing untoward appeared to be going on in there and yet he could not shake the discomfort cursing his mind.

There would be a phone in there, he reasoned with himself, ducking his head and shuffling closer to the door. He only needed to make a quick call to his mother to stop her from sitting up worrying about him for longer, pacing to and fro, clanking pots and pans in the kitchen (a nervous inclination). Sighing heavily, he thrust his hood back from his head, swearing under his breath when it caught on his crest, embarrassingly unable to release it for a few seconds while a passing Spinosaurus stared at him oddly, his 'sail' scarlet and confrontational. Blushing faintly under his scales, Robbie coughed into his clenched paw and jogged into the comparative warmth and bustle of the bar, a cloud of smoke blowing sickeningly into his muzzle.

The bar was comfortably full, but not heaving, and Robbie exhaled slowly as he made his way through the centre, slipping past many kinds of dinosaurs - some of which he had never encountered before - and murmured his apologies when he accidentally jostled one or two. Doing his best to be completely invisible, the dinosaur edged over to the back, where he hoped there would be a phone - they were usually near the toilets and if this one stuck by tradition... He made a face: there was a large Triceratops using the phone, leaning against the wall and exhaling a lazy cloud of smoke towards the ceiling. More than a little overweight and straining against the constraints of his black jeans and half-opened shirt (Robbie almost laughed at the gaudy, gold chains around his wrists and neck), the tri' did not look as if he was likely to hang up the phone any time soon. Robbie certainly was not going to ask him to hurry up! He liked his head exactly where it was - attached to his neck - thank you very much.

Seeing no other option, Robbie shrugged and went to the bar, choosing a stool where he could sit and watch the phone, hoping to jump in and nab his chance at making the required call whenever the tri' decided that he was all good and done. Absentmindedly, he asked for his usual bitter pint of beer when the bartender, a lazy-eyed stegosaurus, gruffly asked what he wanted, acting as if it was a sacrifice for him to serve Robbie: perhaps he recognised him as a non-regular. He spun around on the bar stool so that he faced the room, gulping a couple of steadying mouthfuls, alcohol making him braver even if he had not consumed enough to be affected.

This isn't so bad, he thought shyly, cradling his pint between two paws. Nobody's bothering me, nothing's going on... He stiffened as he noticed a couple kissing each other lightly on the lips, a chaste kiss. Well, nothing that wouldn't happen in a normal pub or club, just between different furs and scalies.

"What brings you to a place like this?"

The voice startled him and Robbie looked slowly to his right as if he was afraid of who would be sitting there - someone who recognised him? To his relief, he did not know the lean but scruffy Tyrannosaurus (the species was unmistakable) that stood there, leaning back against the bar on his elbows. Swallowing, Robbie tried to play it cool and slid his gaze away from the rex' bright, blue eyes.

"Just need to use the phone and thought I'd sit down for a few," Robbie shrugged nonchalantly; the Triceratops was still talking away on the phone, gripping the dirty, grey handset tightly in his large paw.

"So that's how it is then," the rex chuckled and pointed at his own chest, a dirty, grey hide covered with a worn shirt. "Name's Amos."

"Robbie," he said in turn, uncomfortably edging away from the rex. There was a gleam in Amos' eyes that made the dinosaur anxious, as if the rex had an ulterior motive. Was he being hit on? Robbie didn't think he'd be approached by such a scruffy character, if at all!

"Who did you need to phone then?" Amos pried, grinning lazily at Robbie's discomfort.

"My mother," Robbie muttered, striving to appear offhand about the fact. "Otherwise none of your business."

"Ah, but if it wasn't my business, you wouldn't've told me then, would you?" He laughed, taking Robbie's pint as if it was his own. "Not a bad choice," he nodded his blunt muzzle towards the glass.

Bristling, Robbie said nothing, but quite clear turned his muzzle away from the rex, angry that he had just taken his drink like that as if they were friends. He would not have minded any of his friends pinching a bit of his pint, but he hardly knew this 'saur. Surely there were others in the bar that he could talk to without bothering him... Biting the inside of his cheek Robbie drummed his fingers in an unheard beat across his thigh, keeping a careful eye upon the phone: the very moment that he could, he would make a run for it.

"He'll be off in a bit," Amos jerked his thumb at the tri', who was showing signs of wrapping up his conversation. Robbie dragged his attention back to the rex, hiding his scowl behind a decidedly blank and noncommittal expression. "It was nice chatting to you and I hope to run into you again. If you're heading out straight afterwards, you'd better take a leak first. I'm going over there now before that dick Jared pukes over it again. Filthy bastard."

"Oh, well, sure..." Robbie said, a little flustered as he stood up and scraped the stool back so that it knocked into the wooden bar. "I guess that's a good idea, thanks for the heads up."

Stumbling forwards, Robbie followed Amos through the bar, the crowd parting for them like water. He caught some saurs casting him pitying looks and he blushed fervently, almost able to feel the warmth radiating from his muzzle, although he was grateful that his scales hid the worst of the colour in his cheeks. The tri' finally hung up the phone and smirked lewdly at Robbie; perhaps he had been very right in not asking him to use the phone earlier as he seemed to be an unpleasant sort.

They stepped into the bathroom and Robbie made as if to go to one of the urinals, which were not as clean as he would have liked them to be, if he was entirely honest. Amos looked Robbie over carefully and put out his paw to prevent him from going any further.

"Get down on your knees," he snarled suddenly, his whole demeanour darkening. He shoved his paws deep into his pockets and stared Robbie down, tapping one hind paw impatiently.

"What?" Robbie blinked. "Why would I do that? It's filthy in here. I'm just going to the loo."

"Oh, no you're not, kid," the rex smirked, grabbing Robbie's arm and shoving him against the wall. Robbie yelped as his head flew back and struck the wall, not braced at all and blinking stupidly.

"What the hell do you want?" Robbie whispered, dazed and turning his head slowly from side to side. "There's money in my wallet, just take it and let me go...please."

"Just a blowjob," Amos said casually, already in the process of unzipping his fly. "Then you can go. Don't care for money. Besides," he pushed down on Robbie's head, careful of the spiny crest. "You look like you need a lesson, or two."

"Fuck off!" Robbie spat on the floor, pushing at the rex' jean-clad legs and fighting to get up, but the knock on his head and Amos blocking him with his body sent him quickly back against the wall, head spinning sickeningly. Snarling, Robbie snapped his jaws together. "I'm not going to bloody suck you off so get out of here while you still have your dick attached!"

"Oh, look who's making threats here now," Amos taunted cruelly, grasping Robbie's crest with one paw. "Tell you what. I'll make a deal with you. If you suck me off, I won't break your bones. Now how does that sound, lad? I'm trying to be reasonable here." He spread his paws in a 'what can I do' gesture. "I don't want to have to hurt you."

"Go to hell!"

"Why? You're already in it," Amos smirked. "I see you leave me with no other choice."

Rolling up the sleeves of his long-sleeved, denim shirt (a few holes in the collar), he slammed his fist into Robbie's stomach, knocking him back into the wall. Robbie gasped as all the breath vanished from his lungs but was given no time to recover before the rex launched a kick at him, catching him on his thigh, though thankfully on the muscle and not the bone, which might have fractured had the rex' aim been true. He didn't care to hold back and finished the first part of his 'lesson' by driving his knee hard into Robbie's crotch as the dinosaur struggled to his feet, sending him crumpling back to the filthy, stained tiles and curling up with an agonised groan.

"Now that I've given you a taste of what will happen if you do not do as I say," he continued calmly, straightening his shirt as if this was something that he did every day. "Suck my dick."

What choice do I have? Robbie growled to himself, humiliated and beaten into a tight, little ball of submission. I can't get out of here... Why hasn't anyone heard anything? Why won't someone come to help me?

Maybe this is a regular occurrence.

The rex' zip was open and there was a prominent bulge in the front of his boxer shorts, though Robbie could not have honestly said that it was anything to be proud of or intimidated by. He pressed back against the bathroom wall and turned his cheek to the cool but rough surface, tiny disturbances in the grain scratching his hide. This was not at all like he thought it would be...

"Are you going to be good now and do what I so kindly ask of you?" The rex said with an air of great patience, as if he was really doing Robbie a favour.

"Yes," Robbie whispered, hanging his head in shame. "I'll do it. Just don't hurt me and let me go."

Smirking cruelly, Amos grabbed Robbie's crest, using it as a handle of sorts to keep him in place; the dinosaur closed his eyes and feebly attempted to pull away, though his attempts were half-hearted at best, thought after thought flickering through his mind. If he left the bar with cuts and bruises, too many questions would be asked, by furs in the bar, his parents, his sister, his friends - everyone. How could he tell them the truth about being beaten up in a dirty bathroom, if he refused what the rex wanted from him? Of course, his mother would make him go to the police, if she managed to scrape the truth from him, and he wouldn't want to relive such an embarrassing and painful incident. A non-consensual blowjob, on the other paw, was the type of thing that went by unnoticed by most, a dark undercurrent to what would have seemed to be a pleasant bar otherwise. But no one would help him afterwards and, now more than ever before, Robbie knew that he was utterly alone.

It was a choice between two evils and he had made his decision.

"Come on then," Amos laughed, slapping Robbie's cheek lightly with the flat of his paw. "What are you waiting for? It ain't gonna leap out of my shorts at you. Get on with it, kid"

Swallowing hard, Robbie opened his eyes again, grimacing at the more pronounced bulge in front of his muzzle. What sort of sick bastard became aroused through forcing someone into this position? He tried not to think about what he was doing as he reached up and, in one short motion, yanked Amos' boxers down, just low enough to free his cock from its confines, although he wished that it would stay in there. The rex' dick was not as large as others that he had seen in porn and the old school showers, but it was still large enough at around six inches - Robbie was not about to whip out a measuring tape to give the precise size - to make him shrink back in apprehension. He was suddenly desperately glad that the brute did not want more than a blowjob.

"Go on, boy, don't just stare at it," Amos growled, digging his stubby claws into Robbie's crest. "Lick it first. Get my dick good and wet with your spit."

Wrinkling up his muzzle, Robbie thought about making a dash for the door, but, as if sensing his half-formed plan, the rex raised his paw threateningly, curling his fingers into a fist. Fearing a blow, Robbie leaned in closer and stuck just the very tip of his tongue out of his muzzle, licking around the red head of the Tyrannosaurus's junk tentatively. To the dino, it did not taste excessively bad, he had to admit, but it was evident that the rex had not cleaned himself very thoroughly for a few days and his crotch stank heavily of sweat. Amos scoffed at his half-hearted lick.

"Is that the best you can do?" He snorted, cuffing Robbie on the back of the head, hard enough to push him forward so that his muzzle rubbed down the length of his cock. "Get on with it, or I'll go back on our little deal."

Groaning from the blow, Robbie drew himself back slowly, recoiling inwardly in disgust - he didn't want that cock touching him muzzle, let alone be inside it! Even with this thought in his head, he bravely licked straight across the head of the rex' dick and immediately wanted to retch at the combined taste of urine, sweat and something more salty... It was cum. It could not be anything else, Robbie spat mentally. He suspected that he would be getting a stronger taste of that particular substance in due course. Retreating into a corner of his mind where he could act without thinking, Robbie licked firmly along the length of Amos' shaft, the taste improving somewhat as he became more used to it.

Although the cock was already half-hard under his tongue, Robbie was surprised to see that it became firmer as the rex' arousal grew, the Tyrannosaurus humping lightly against Robbie's tongue, much to his distaste. It was vile... He had never felt so degraded and used before, because that was the sole purpose of this rude tryst. Catching a drop of pre cum on his tongue, Robbie coughed loudly, chest heaving, until the Tyrannosaurus growled warningly, telling him in no uncertain terms that he had better "get on with it", as he had said before. The dinosaur shook himself and continued to flick his tongue lightly over Amos' cock, listening to his moans and whimpers and trying to repeat the actions that drew the most positive reaction from him: anything to have the experience over with as quickly as possible.

A small part of him, however, felt at home with the taste and the feel of the 'saur's dick... He resisted the urge to clench his teeth and only wished that the situation was different so that he may enjoy it for what it was.

"That's it," he muttered in what Robbie supposed was encouragement. "Now suck it. I've got somewhere to be, kid."

Just a bathroom fling, Robbie said bitterly to himself. Fuck this... But it doesn't taste that bad anymore. It's...pretty good, actually.

Almost too obediently, Robbie lapped around the head of the Tyrannosaurus's cock, keeping his paws upon his own thighs, and took just the tip into his muzzle, sucking experimentally. He felt as if he was watching the scene unfold from a distance and seeing the results as feedback on a simulation computer screen, completely detached. A vein of excitement cut a path through his flesh and he cringed, wishing that he was not enjoying the act, if not the company. Above his head, Amos groaned and let his tongue loll out of his muzzle, panting softly and then pushing hard on the back of Robbie's head to force half of his dick into the saur's muzzle all at once: Robbie fought not to choke and inhaled deeply through his nostrils.

His lips strained wide around the rex' prick and his teeth accidentally grazed it before he controlled his actions again, anxiously sucking upon the hard shaft like his girlfriend had once done for him. Banishing her image from his mind, he performed the actions from memory, as if he had watched them upon a television screen a long time ago. Bobbing his muzzle automatically, he pressed his lips around the rex' cock and carefully kept his sharp teeth out of the way, sucking and pushing forwards to take even more into his mouth. He gagged as the tip hit the back of his throat, but Amos was not having any of Robbie pulling back for comfort; he tightened his grip upon Robbie brutally and dragged him forwards until his nose pressed into the dirty scales of his crotch.

Robbie floundered for breath until Amos let him up for air with a barely concealed, cruel chuckle, bucking his hips so that his dick thrust lightly between Robbie's lips; something about the ease of his actions faintly told Robbie that this brute had taken more than one non-consensual blowjob in his lifetime. The dinosaur gasped for breath around the dick in his mouth and through his sharply flared nostrils, taking in short shallow breaths in his panic. His chest felt tight and the member all too large between his lips, demanding attention that a part of him wanted to give, just not to Amos.

"That all you can take?" Amos laughed, thrusting back into Robbie's muzzle without waiting for an answer. "My, my... For a little cocksucker, your skill is lacking... Maybe you need a few more 'lessons' from me, kid... What do you think?"

I think you can go die in a hole.

Groaning like a creature in distress (or so Robbie likened his over the top sounds of 'appreciation' to), the rex thrust roughly into Robbie's muzzle, the poor dinosaur's chest heaving with suppressed coughs. He felt the bile rising in his throat and forced it down just in time, although the natural reaction from his gag reflex left a bitter, burning taste in the back of his throat as if he had swallowed something both hot and sour. Neck aching, he kept as still as possible, moving his head with the rex' enthusiastic thrusts as the saur's dirty hide bumped against Robbie's nose, slick with saliva. Robbie's cheeks flushed red with humiliation.

Suddenly, Amos latched on to his crest with both of his dirty paws, dragging Robbie's muzzle painfully closer, Robbie's lips pursed tightly and bleeding very lightly from the corners. The dinosaur had long given up on sucking and was just allowing his mouth to be fucked as the rex willed it, his eyes half closed and the sickening, salty taste of pre cum dripping on to his tongue, only to be pushed back automatically and swallowed. Bracing himself, Robbie dug his fingers into his worn, denim jeans - he had not moved them once through the whole ordeal, which he suspected was coming to an end at last. With the rex' actions and harsh pants, he knew what came next.

Slamming his dick into Robbie's muzzle, Amos gave a low roar, the noise reverberating around the small bathroom, though it would not be heard over the music and chatter from the bar, to Robbie's joint relief and dismay. The torrent of cum spurting into his muzzle was foul-tasting and made him gag, wrenching his head back and coughing hard into his paws. Smirking, the rex allowed him respite, aiming his dick at Robbie's muzzle instead and covering the hide with a layer of sticky seed that oozed down slowly, a most viscous unloading. Ducking his head, Robbie knelt there, truly and utterly defeated. Was it over yet?

"Not bad for a first time, kid," Amos said snidely, stuffing his softening cock back into his pants, uncaring of the slick cum staining the head and Robbie's saliva coating the length. "Always nice to have the fresh ones in here... I'm sure you will be back for more, after tasting this."

Refusing to answer, Robbie turned away. If he had his way, he would never go into a veggie bar ever, ever again. He hoped never to see the rex again, though it was ambiguous as to who would fare better if that encounter was to take place.

"Ah well," the rex shrugged, straightening his clothes with a lop-sided grin. "At least I had you first. You start learning kid. You'll be a good cocksucker yet." And, with that, he left, forgetting the victim that he left dripping cum on to the tiles.

As soon as the rex disappeared out the door, tail swaying from side to side happily with every step, Robbie slowly clambered to his feet. His legs felt as if they were made from lead and insisted on dragging him back down to the icy tiles once, then twice, before he succeeded in standing up again, leaning upon the wall for much needed support. Stomach reeling, he heaved himself over to the nearest tissue dispenser, kicking one of the stall doors accidentally and wincing at the resounding bang. He had nothing but the thin, easy to tear toilet paper to wipe the mess of cum off his muzzle and he cursed under his breath when he realised that a splash had left a sticky trail across the front of his shirt. No matter: he could hide that beneath his jacket, no problem. No problem at all.

Though his muzzle was as clean as he was possibly going to get it with only toilet paper at his disposal, he realised that there was something else wrong. The scent of the rex' cum was thick and heavy in the air, clinging to his snout and his clothes - an odour that he could not disguise. In horror, Robbie thought of the looks he would get if he exited the bathroom with that smell all over him - everyone would know what he had done or even exactly what had happened! He stumbled to the sink and ran the cold water over the tissue with shaking paws until it began to disintegrate into little shreds, dragging the soaked material over his snout in a frantic attempt to clean himself and get rid of what would expose him.

What the hell am I going to do? He thought in a panic, wiping his muzzle again and again as if it was going to make a difference to his scent. I can't go home like this... Fuck... But I've got to get out of here.

Outside of the bar toilets, a green Parasaurus, Scott, sat at a round table near the bar, finishing off the dregs of a drink; he had met his friends at the bar and was set up for a couple of hours at least, if all went well. He enjoyed the friendly, tight-knit atmosphere of this particular establishment, though even he had to admit that there were individuals that clustered together into raucous groups that were best avoided.

Narrowing his eyes, the watching dinosaur noticed one such character that he sought to avoid emerging from the bathroom, a thuggish Tyrannosaurus that had caused problems for him in the past. Nothing that he could not handle, of course, but it had led to several unpleasant encounters before the Parasaurus had managed to best him in such a way that the coward and fled with his tail between his legs. The rex had a particularly pleased look about him today and he did not care to notice Scott as he plonked himself down at a nearby table with a group of leering, slouching saurs; Scott wished that he could wipe that smug grin right off his muzzle. What had he done this time to be so darkly cheerful? He hardly wanted to know but, at the volume at which they were conversing, he had little choice in the matter.

"Had a little fresh meat tonight, did you, Amos?" A dark coloured triceraptops jeered, gulping down his frothing pint.

"Just another one for the list," Amos laughed, leaning his chair back on two legs. "Nothing special, y'know how it is."

"No, we don't know 'how it is'," the tri' smirked, knocking his fist against the wooden table. "So why don't you tell us? What was it this time? Muzzle or behind?" He glanced over his shoulder to make sure that there was nobody listening, a nervous gesture.

"Muzzle," Amos nodded his confirmation, a nasty smile curving the corner of his lips up. "First time for him. Sure that he won't forget it in a hurry!"

"And be back for more too?" Another member of the group quipped, making them burst into rasping laughter, slapping their paws upon the table.

Pity stirred in Scott's stomach. How could he not feel sorry for the poor dino that Amos had tricked and, from the sound of it, raped without care for his feelings? Shaking his head, he pushed his glass away, losing his thirst for the beverage when others might have ordered another. The bar had lost its appeal and he glanced towards the exit, thinking that he might make an early getaway and seat himself in a more appealing, warmer joint for his relaxed evening.

The bathroom door banged loudly and Scott snapped his head around in surprise to see none other than his casual friend slinking out, eyes downcast. Robbie clung to the wall anxiously and crept around the edge of the room, looking up every now and again to make sure that he was still heading towards the door, a dark brown rectangle of worn wood that was prone to draughts. He kept licking his lips and avoided the eyes of the nearest bar goers, though he noticeably shrunk back when Amos happened to glance over him, Robbie's gaze darkening as the rex made an obscene gesture. Quickening his pace, Robbie dashed out the door, pushing past several dinos entering the bar and disappearing into the darkness outside.

Bastard! Scott swore inwardly in sudden realisation. Amos' smugness, Robbie's fear... It could only add up to one thing - the poor sod. He had been no more than a passing victim to Amos and another name, if the rex even remembered it, on Amos' infamous 'list'. His paws involuntarily tightened into fists and he glared at Amos, imagining throwing him across the room by the length of his tail. He rose from his seat and was halfway to their table before common sense caught up with him and altered his course so that he strode purposefully towards the door instead. One saur against seven or eight? Lousy odds, ridiculous odds. He would deal with them at another time. Right now, he had to help Robbie.

Darting through the bar, Scott was not as careful to avoid other patrons and brushed off the snorts and complaints that followed in his wake, cursing his shoves. But if he did not hurry, Robbie might be gone and then what could he do? Bursting out into the cold, he panted lightly, his breath frosting in the air in front of his snout and the cold making him shiver; the bar had been comfortable at least. Robbie was not too far ahead of him and he had the dark coloured hood of his sweatshirt pulled up uncomfortably over his head, shoulders hunched and head lowered as if he was trying to hide. Clearing his throat, Scott trotted forward, though he kept a short distance from Robbie: he didn't want to frighten or startle him.

"Robbie, wait up," he called softly, his voice carrying through the still night air.

Spinning around, Robbie's eyes widened perceptibly and he gulped, running his tongue around the inside of his mouth again, tasting the remnants of cum around his gums. His eyes flicked warily between Scott and the bar door, shuffling nervously back as comprehension dawned.

"Scott? What the hell are you doing here? You're a vegan?" He blurted, biting his tongue immediately afterwards, though Scott only chuckled lightly and shook his head.

"Nah, I'm an omnivore," he winked, his light manner helping Robbie to relax. "But I prefer meat."

There was an awkward silence and Robbie scuffed his shoe across the ground, noting the dark grain of dirt staining the laces of the trainer, something that his mother would have told him off for if she had been there to see. Scott coughed lightly into his paw and gestured down the street.

"Do you want to go get something to eat? It's kind of late," Scott pointed out. "But I'm starving. I'm sure you didn't find anything worth eating in there - the food's horrible." He jerked his thumb at the bar, shrugging despondently.

"No, no, it's okay... I have to get home," Robbie muttered, staring at the hypnotically blinking street light, which was still going strong. "I only went in to phone my mom... I'm walking home," he added, careful to place emphasis on his initial reason for entering the bar.

"Home? You're not exactly very clean," Scott remarked dryly, pointing at a dark stain on Robbie's knees, which the 'saur had not noticed before. "Let me take you back to my house to clean up before you go home. Looks like you've had a rough night and at least going home tidied up won't draw questions. I can imagine what Fran would say."

Without waiting for an answer, Scott turned and strode away down the street, barely making a sound as he walked; Robbie briefly thought that there was something strangely graceful about the way that he walked. When he realised that Scott was some distance from him, he scrambled to follow, not wanting to be left behind.

"I fell in the rubbish outside..." Robbie muttered, trotting rapidly after Scott. "Before I went in."

"My car's down here," Scott said, acting as if he had not heard Robbie. "Come on, hurry up and you can still call Fran."

Robbie grumbled to himself, some of his old spirit returning despite the situation. In the shadows, he could not tell what car Scott had - except that it was some shade of silver - but he collapsed into the passenger seat anyway, thankful to be sitting down at last. With a deal more finesse, Scott slipped into the other seat and started the car, the engine rumbling smoothly into life without a cough. Wondering where Scott's house was, Robbie hunkered down in the seat and looked down his front, paws thrust deeply into his sweatshirt pockets; glancing at the dinosaur out of the corner of his eye, Scott shook his head gently and bit the inside of his lip. Just what could he say in a situation like this? They drove in silence for a while before Scott cleared his throat noisily and nodded his head at the road ahead.

"Quiet night tonight," he observed, cringing at how his own voice sounded. Well, what was he supposed to say to Robbie after what had happened?

"Mm, it is," Robbie mumbled so that Scott had to strain to catch what he said.

Silence fell once more and Scott shifted uncomfortably, slowing down for a set of traffic lights that had conveniently changed to red as they approached. Grumbling under his breath, Scott tapped his fingers against the steering wheel, playing with the clutch pedal absent-mindedly.

"Where did you go out for the night then? Before you were walking home, I mean," Scott tried again.

"The Kilkenny," Robbie said at last, looking down at his paws.

Silence descended all too quickly - Robbie was stubbornly refusing to elaborate. Scott's paws tightened on the steering wheel and he had the sudden urge to lean over and cuff Robbie on the side of the head to knock some words out of him. Sure, he had been through a hard experience, but they knew each other, right? Surely they could talk? And Scott was there to help, of course... He owed it to Robbie to help.

Oh... To hell with it.

"Look, Robbie," he finally said bluntly, glancing at the quiet saur out of the corner of his eye. "I know what happened. I recognise the smell."

"The smell of what?" Robbie asked warily, a slight tremor in his voice.

"The smell of cum, for lack of a kinder word."

"W-what?" Robbie stammered, trying and failing to look shocked that he would even suggest such a thing. "I don't know what you're talking about - I'm not like that. What do you - "

"Robbie," Scott cut across him. "Don't. Just don't. It's okay, I won't tell anyone. But I am sorry."

Robbie rubbed his paws together anxiously, his stomach leaping and rolling as if it contained a living being that was frantically trying to escape. Something about Scott's tone, however, reassured him and he nodded faintly, leaning back and closing his eyes. The events of the night seemed to pile up before his closed eyes, towering above and swamping him with a tangled myriad of sights, scents, touches and tastes - it was as if he was looking through a kaleidoscope and seeing his short term memories flickering past one another in a rush. Tears welled up but he swallowed them hastily, willing himself not to appear weak and give in to emotion that he longed to let out. The experience would not have the best of him.

"So how did you know?" He questioned at last, his voice hoarse and grating.

"Know what?"

"You know..." Robbie flushed under his hood. "The smell..."

"I'm bi, Robbie," he said, rolling his eyes. "And I'm not an idiot. Come on."

Pulling over to the side of the road outside a small but tidy terraced house, Scott gestured to Robbie to get out and jumped out himself, pulling his coat closer around his body and huddling into its warmth. Tentatively, Robbie followed on his heels and looked around curiously as he entered Scott's home; there was no garden but the white front door shone in the light from the brighter street lamps, a faux gold knocker and letterbox glinting. Nothing threatening - just a standard home. Inside was little different and quite minimalistic as the door opened straight into a short hallway with only a couple of hooks for coats, the dark carpet old but relatively clean.

"Bathroom's up the stairs, first door on the right," Scott pushed the static Robbie gently in the small of the back. "Go into the bedroom there and you'll see the bathroom. Sorry, the guest bathroom's kind of out of order. But that one's nicer. I'll give Fran a ring while you're up there," he paused; Robbie showed no sign of moving. "Well, go on then."

Nodding mutely, Robbie trod slowly up the stairs, gripping the banister unnecessarily tight as if he was afraid of toppling backwards or losing his footing. Without looking back, he dashed straight through the bedroom (plain with some kind of wooden furniture) and into the bathroom. Self-consciously, Robbie fiddled with the lock for a minute before giving up and determining that that too was broken or 'out of order', but something about being in a quiet house made his pulse slow at last: it was safe. All too eager to strip out of his dirty, cum-stained clothes, he near ripped them from his body, revealing his glossy green scales bit by bit - the clothes ended up on top of a plastic hamper in the corner, forgotten as Robbie jumped into the shower cubicle.

He paused for the first time to take in his surroundings and noticed nothing special about the bathroom; it was clean and modelled with white pieces, the walls tiled with alternating blue and white tiles in a pattern that was appealing to the eye. By the sink, there was a toothbrush, toothpaste, facecloth, soap and a claw brush - nothing out of the ordinary, but Robbie suddenly felt a distinct longing to have a toothbrush right now to get the nasty taste out of his muzzle. The cascade of hot water was a blessing and Robbie moaned, tilting his head back to let the water run down the length of his muzzle and over his stinging crest. Letting the water wash away the dirt from his hide and soreness from his muscles, Robbie breathed calmly and half-smiled.

Downstairs, Scott sighed deeply and went through to the living room, walking past the mismatched furniture until he reached his favourite, sturdy, armchair. Sinking gratefully into it, he lifted the phone from its cradle and dialled Fran's number, scratching the cream arm of the chair thoughtfully as it rang. Even though he had planned to stay out much later, he felt as if he had run a marathon in less than an hour.

His phone conversation was short but he warmed to hear her voice again, even if she did speak about Robbie as if he was a small child and not the adult that he was. He saw that time was getting on and simply told Fran that Robbie was staying in the guest bedroom for the night as he did not trust himself to drive safely when he was so tired. Fran could not argue with his logic and just begged him to bring Robbie home safely the next morning, her tone high and pleading. Rolling his eyes dramatically, Scott assured her that he would do so and ended the phone conversation; he was glad to have that more difficult topic over and done with.

Shrugging off the other side of Fran, Scott hauled himself up from the chair and padded lightly up the stairs, considering that he might collect Robbie's clothes and throw them in the wash so that they would be clean for the next day. There was no way that the 'saur would want to go home smelling of cum, after all.

"You okay in there?" Scott called through the bathroom door, rapping his knuckles smartly against it.

"Yes, yes!" Robbie squeaked in surprised. "I'm fine. Thanks for letting me use your shower."

"No problem, but can I come in for a moment? I phoned Fran and told her you were staying in the guest room tonight, thought it would be easier. I want to put your clothes in the washing machine. No offense, mate, but they kind of stunk."

"Yeah, sorry..." Robbie mumbled under the water. "You can come in."

Shivering under the warm deluge, Robbie turned away as Scott entered, a little shy although his heart was racing. He had come to a decision in the shower about how the night was going to progress and it was not entirely detrimental to the plan for Scott to enter, perhaps catching a glimpse of him through the steamy glass. Ducking in, Scott kept his eyes adverted, to Robbie's disappointment, and grabbed a double pawful of Robbie's clothes, speedily heading out of the bathroom. A thump against the glass shower door made him stop and fight the urge to take a peek at Robbie; he had always suspected that the 'saur had a good body hidden under those clothes. One look could not hurt...

"Feeling better now?" Scott asked kindly, pausing in the entrance to the bathroom, sneaking a look at Robbie out of the corner of his eye.

"Yeah...I'm feeling a lot better," Robbie said brightly, his voice sounding false to his own ears. "I can't reach my back though..."

Scott almost laughed: that sounded like something one of his lovers would have said to him, not Robbie. Wait...was that supposed to be a hint? As he looked more carefully, Robbie's tail swiped a gash in the steamed up glass, giving him a decisive glimpse of his scaly, darker green rear. On the other side of the glass, facing the wall, Robbie blushed and ran his paws over his crest, washing between the strands with undue concentration.

"Well..." Scott said carefully, hefting the clothes in his arms. "I can't help you with that. I'm sure you can reach yourself, Robbie."

"Okay," Robbie mumbled, disappointment ringing through his tone. "Sorry."

Leaning forward, Robbie touched his snout to the wall and sighed lightly, already berating himself for even thinking that he could try his luck with Scott. He laid his paw flat against the cool, damp tiles and breathed slowly, calming himself although his tail still swung lightly, tapping the wall and betraying his barely concealed agitation. Scott wouldn't hurt him, but it did not seem that he would have a chance to rectify the downward spiral of his night. He was hardly aware of Scott's footsteps leaving the room but he jumped when the door creaked open again.

"Oh, Robbie?" Scott called back, poking his muzzle around the door with a flashing grin. "Remember to brush your teeth. I'll wait for you in the bedroom to...make sure everything's okay."

Encouraged but unsure, Robbie hurriedly washed and dried himself from head to toe, slipping as he jumped out of the shower cubicle. The bathroom door was left slightly ajar and, through the gap, Robbie saw Scott moving across the room, the bedside lamp casting an elongated shadow across the wall. Rummaging in the cupboard above the sink, Robbie dug out a new toothbrush from a packet - Scott was just the type to have spares laying around - and brushed his teeth vigorously, not denying the fact that he was hoping to have a very good reason for cleaning up so meticulously. Cum had not tasted so bad, but he wanted a positive experience: something that would quell the fervent, sexual ache in his loins and the burning curiosity in his mind.

The heat rushed to Robbie's muzzle as he prepared to leave the bathroom, heart hammering in his chest. No clothes at all...and he was staying the night with Scott. He gulped, hoping that a towel would do for the moment, and wrapped a fluffy white one, which felt as if it had just emerged from the tumble dryer, securely around his hips.

"I put your clothes in the washing machine," Scott said softly as Robbie shyly padded out from the bathroom, arms loosely held in front of his body as if he was self-conscious.

The 'saur ducked his head in acknowledgement, keeping a short distance away from Scott who frowned, wondering if he had misread the situation. There was only one way to find out and, oh, he intended to know.

"Robbie...about what you said in the shower..." Scott started, padding up to him and touching his upper arm gently. "It made me think that you are interested in...more."

Robbie swallowed hard and met Scott's eyes, determination and lust dancing within his pupils.

"I am very interested in learning more," he said huskily, shyly reaching out and resting his paws just above the line of Scott's jeans, touching the smoother scales with a small gasp. "I just don't want to be hurt...and I'm nervous..."

"I won't hurt you," Scott murmured into Robbie's ear, nuzzling into his softly scented hide, fresh and clean after the shower. "This can be fun. Not at all like it was before, I promise you."

Although Robbie did not have the nerve to answer, he bit his lip and nodded mutely, allowing himself to be towed gently towards the bed, Scott's paw lightly rubbing up and down his arm. Naturally, the towel slipped loose and tumbled to the carpet in a messy heap, but neither male was thinking about that. The bedroom was well heated but Robbie still shivered, subconsciously leaning in closer to Scott and relaxing when their bodies met, Robbie's nude and Scott only half-clothed. Well, Robbie would have to do something about that... Licking his lips nervously, Robbie very slowly moved to his knees and fumbled with Scott's neat belt buckle; his paws were shaking so badly that it took him several attempts to release the catch.

"You okay?" Scott murmured, happy to let Robbie go at his own pace, which could not be called slow by any means.

"Yeah," Robbie answered breathlessly. "I want to do this."

Robbie tugged Scott's boxer shorts down quickly and, obligingly, Scott stepped out of them, sitting down on the edge of the bed so that Robbie did not have to stretch to reach him. The younger 'saur gulped and bumped the side of his muzzle against Scott's knee, faced with a thick, dark cock that was already half-erect, the skin smooth and inviting. He almost shrank back but steeled himself, focusing on the want and need simmering inside him like a caged creature, but one that he was eager to release. Tentatively, he took Scott's cock in his paw and rubbed up and down the length, mimicking the strokes and squeezes that drove him to moans in the privacy of his bedroom. The cock swelled rapidly in his paw and he gasped at the size, teeth grazing his bottom lip in delighted anticipation.

"Wait a minute..." Robbie paused, looking at Scott's shaft carefully for the first time and then snapping his head up, eyes wide and childlike. He had seen this before. "It was you in those pictures with my sister!"

"If we're going to have this conversation, could you please let go of my dick?" Scott remarked dryly, though there was a hint of colour in his cheeks.

"No! No," Robbie said quickly, surprised at his own unwillingness to calm things down. "But...you fucked my sister. That's kind of weird for me... No, it's damn weird!" Scott shrugged, having the sense to look embarrassed.

"We have a bit of fun from time to time," he said evasively. "Nothing serious, just light and fun."

"But you're not dating?" Robbie checked suspiciously; he would never do anything to hurt his sister, no matter how much she aggravated him as his sibling.

"No, definitely not," Scott said seriously. "I'm not dating anyone and I am not in a relationship with anyone, rest assured."

Reassured and disinclined to pursue the topic further - he had more important, immediate things to be doing - Robbie bobbed his muzzle and inched forward, Scott's legs pressing against his shoulders and sides, 'trapping' him close. Looking up, Robbie winked, his breath warming the side of Scott's cock, and arched his head gracefully down, circling the tip of his cock with his nimble tongue. Biting back a groan, Scott tensed up and gently rested his paws on either side of Robbie's head, rubbing tiny, soothing circles into his hide. More confidently that he had done so in his earlier experience, Robbie opened his mouth wide and took as much of Scott's shaft into his muzzle as he could comfortably manage; it was only about three-quarters of the total length but Scott's gasp of shock and pleasure encouraged Robbie and bolstered his confidence.

Robbie eagerly pressed closer to Scott, running his paws over his smooth leg scales and between his thighs to cup his balls with more curiosity than finesse; he rolled them gently between a thumb and forefinger, sucking lightly upon the smooth length buried in his muzzle as he relished and gave in to the sensation. Scott's scent was far more alluring than the rex' and it had an intoxicating, manly, musky quality to it that drew him in and made him want more. Moaning around the 'saur's dick, Robbie bobbed his muzzle carefully and sucked harder, his cheeks hollowing to show just how much effort he was putting into the act. Panting and fighting to stay still, Scott groaned loudly and tilted his head back, enjoying the effects of Robbie's experimenting tongue pressing and rubbing firmly against the underside of his cock, splashes of pre cum bubbling up from the head.

"Ah...wait... Come up here, Robbie," Scott panted, pulling his cock from Robbie's warm muzzle with a little whimper of regret.

Confused, Robbie looked up, concerned that he had done something wrong, but quickly brightened when Scott patted the bed beside him with a warm, inviting smile. Who would he be to refuse? He clambered up and perched there nervously, giving a surprised grunt as Scott pulled him closer and kissed him full on the lips. Nerves writhed in Robbie's stomach but he parted his lips and kissed Scott back, his own arousal growing and bumping against the Parasaurus' thigh. Murring, Scott broke the kiss gently, his paws trailing down Robbie's flanks to his cock, scooping up the delectable trickle of pre cum and sucking it off his own finger while Robbie watched, dazed and slack-jawed.

"Come here," Scott instructed lightly as he lay down on his back. "Get over me on all fours with your muzzle facing my legs. Have you ever heard of a sixty-nine?"

Blushing, Robbie nodded his confirmation and straddled Scott's body, squeezing his knees against the other dinosaur's sides for reassurance as much as for stability. His cock pointed down and was directly over Scott's muzzle; Scott ran the tip of his tongue over his lips to moisten them and ran his tongue straight up the underside of Robbie's dick, from tip to base. Inhaling sharply, a delicious tremor ran through Robbie's body, and he lowered his head to Scott's cock in turn, following his lead and taking it deep into his muzzle, as he had done before. Robbie resisted the instinctive urge to hump at Scott's muzzle and grunted in disappointment when the Parasaurus' tongue left his dick, trailing over his balls and under his tail. Just what was he doing?

His question was soon answered when Scott's tongue swiped over his tail hole and Robbie froze, trying to process the new sensation. It felt so strange, so wrong to be touched there, but he could not deny the needy throb his cock gave in reply, pressed as it was against Scott's firm, experienced paw. Moaning, he sucked harder as his tail hole was lapped and his cock pumped, Robbie bucking his hips with the pace of Scott's steady stimulation. Chuckling quietly to himself, Scott circled Robbie's anal ring with the tip of his tongue, enjoying the delicious squirms and muffled whimpers that the action earned him; everything was going exactly as he had planned. As for Robbie, with everything that was going on, he felt ready to lose control after such a short session. Even when he was alone, he had never felt so aroused and in pure need of what was inevitably going to happen.

"Scott...I, ah..." Robbie flushed and squirmed, diving back down on to the other male's cock as

"Shush, it's okay," Scott murmured in turn, leaving off rimming Robbie and catching the tip of his cock between his soft lips instead, stroking the length at a greater pace.

Shuddering, Robbie sucked hard and groaned around the cock in his mouth, thrusting his cock into Scott's muzzle and cumming hard, thick, salty ropes of his cum coating the interior of Scott's mouth. Murring happily, Scott ran a paw over Robbie's backside and coaxed out every drop of cum that he was able to give, squeezing and rubbing the part of his cock that was not enveloped in his muzzle. Soon afterwards, he followed suit and moaned as he came into Robbie's muzzle, though he was very surprised that Robbie swallowed everything and licked his lips with relish, almost appearing as if he was looking for more.

"I think..." Scott panted. "That's enough for one night."

Though disappointed, Robbie smiled and rolled off Scott's body, letting Scott rearrange the bed and the sheets while he was lost in his own thoughts and the warm glow spreading through his body. Chuckling at his typical tiredness, Scott nudged his shoulder softly with his paw and motioned to Robbie to get into the bed, the 'saur blinking sleep from his eyes and yawning lethargically.

Exhausted, Robbie crawled under the covers with Scott, who washed his mouth out with a glass of water. They lay back in the bed and Robbie pulled the covers up under his chin, very conscious of who he was sharing a bed with and what they had just done, although a deep sense of satisfaction rested upon him like a warm blanket. Scott leaned over to switch off the light and they were plunged into a cool darkness, both stifling yawns and murmurs of sleep.

"This could really work," Scott murmured sleepily.

"What?"

"I can help you...not as a boyfriend of any kind, but help you experiment with this side of the coin," he explained, snaking his arm around Robbie's waist as he talked. "But, if you agree to a 'teaching' relationship, I want you to know that I will be dating others.

"That's fine with me," Robbie agreed, breathing a sigh of relief. A boyfriend? Oh no, that would be far too complicated right now. "I don't mind anything like that. I want to be single for now... It's easier."

Enjoying the warmth of another dinosaur in the bed, Robbie drifted off to sleep as Scott's breathing slowed and became deeper, more rhythmic. And, on the edge of dreaming, his thoughts wandered to the pictures that he had seen a few days ago on Charlene's phone, the pictures of Scott and her...fucking. Vaguely, he remembered the odd pair of legs that were visible upon the edges of some of the shots, but he had forgotten to ask Scott about them in the excitement and pleasure.

Tomorrow, he thought lazily as he rolled over and pressed his muzzle into the comforting coolness of the pillow. Tomorrow, I'll ask him...and see what that was all about...

*

Earl groaned and rolled over in bed, blinking blearily as his surroundings came into focus. He was lying flat on his back with his head half-off the pillows and the cream-coloured sheets raised into a neat tent over his crotch. The bed beside him, however, was empty. The old dinosaur rubbed his knuckles over his eyes and sighed wearily, the remnants of his a half-remembered dream creeping into the daylight.

"Another one of them dreams..." He grumbled, his flat, almost 'squashed in' muzzle heating up - he was glad that Fran, his wife, was not there to see him in such a state. Whatever would she had said?

Earl had no idea why he was dreaming up such explicit scenes that would be more at home between a teenager's ears, but they had become increasingly disturbing (not to mention disruptive) by the night. At first, he had thought that they were merely a normal by-product of sexual frustration as he had been fucking Fran in the first dream, something that he had gone without for quite some time. But, after that, they had flipped into darker waters and soon he had looked down at his chunky body in the dream only to see the lean, fit body of a dark-scaled dino, though he could not tell the species. Some other male fucking his wife? Absurd! Or...he was fucking his wife as another dinosaur? That thought was even crazier and Earl growled under his breath.

What a ridiculous dream to have, he thought grouchily, although he could not quite banish the faint excitement from his mind.

More confused than stimulated, Earl groaned and rolled lethargically out of bed, his erection shrinking as rapidly as always. Strangely enough, he never felt like pleasing himself after any of those dreams; perhaps it was the edge of guilt lurking pricking at the borders of his thoughts: why should he please himself when Fran was not pleased? Grumbling darkly to himself, Earl stumbled to the wardrobe, whacking his thick tail against the end of the bed.

"Damn work," he muttered as he grabbed clothes at random and hopped around the room with one sock on and one off. "Damn it all."

Suitably clothed, Earl trod wearily down the stairs, tired before the day had even begun. He ambled into the kitchen and half-opened his mouth to say hello to Fran, who was sat at the breakfast table with Robbie, but hesitated when he saw that they were not alone. A friend of theirs, Scott, was there already... So early? Scott tensed almost comically when Earl entered the room but fought to appear nonchalant, sipping his sugary tea with a cool air that said 'I am not interested or bothered'. His attempts were unsuccessful.

"What are you doing here?" Earl started, forgetting to say 'good morning'. Fran rolled her eyes.

"Just here to see Robbie," Scott answered blandly, the picture of incomprehension. "Hanging out, you know."

"Yeah, I know, all right 'en," Earl stumbled over his words, shaking his head. "So...well then... How was that concert you went to with Charlene? Any good for you? I don't think she was all that impressed," he said as an afterthought, as if he was confiding a secret.

"It was pretty good, they had some tidy bands playing there," Scott nodded, smiling warmly. "Good crowd too, didn't just stand there watching - got involved."

Earl murmured something incomprehensible under his breath but could not help but wonder why Charlene had been so evasive about what had gone on at the concert. She hardly told him anything these days and his fatherly pride smarted from being kept in the dark.

"Did something happen there?" He asked abruptly, eyes darkening dangerously. "Was there drinking?"

Scott just stared, floored by the question. Where had that come from? Earl growled and Fran placed a paw upon his arm; he shrugged it off and sat up straight, looking down his nose at Scott.

"I know what happened there," he snapped, jabbing a stubby finger in Scott's face. "So don't you bother hiding anything from me now. I know what happened."

"What? What happened there?" Scott leaned back in alarm, evading Earl's prodding. "Nothing happened apart from us going to see the concert, that's all! She didn't even have anything to drink."

"And you?" Earl demanded, staring intensely at Scott who was forced to look away.

"I had one," Scott admitted. "But that's all. Charlene had nothing, I swear."

Fidgeting anxiously under the larger saur's glare, Scott looked from the left to the right and back again, avoiding looking Earl in the eye. Gods, he wasn't half quick to change his tune and temper. Robbie was suddenly very interested in his breakfast and stayed well out of the brewing argument, as did Fran, but felt a little sorry for Scott, even if he suspected that all was not as Scott would have it portrayed. After all, he had 'been' with Charlene before, had he not?

"Look, Earl," Scott spread his paws wide. "I would not do anything with Charlene that I would not do in your presence or Fran's presence, I promise." His words sounded sincere enough, but Earl was not quick enough to catch the sly smirk that followed.

"Hmph," Earl grunted, satisfied with that answer, though Fran coughed and rose from the table, busying herself with the dirty breakfast dishes. "That's very good then. Good to know."

"Ah, Robbie?" Fran called softly, breaking the tense atmosphere. "Would you take this parcel to the post office for me, please? It needs to be sent off today."

"Sure, mom," Robbie said, hiding his grimace. "Sorry, Scott, I'll be back soon. This won't take very long. Do you want to come along or wait here?"

"I'll wait here," Scott murmured pleasantly.

After giving Robbie the parcel, Fran went upstairs to tidy the bedrooms and left Scott alone in the kitchen with Earl. His earlier bad temper had dissipated, much to Scott's relief, and he was chugging down a glass of water; apparently he was not hungry enough for breakfast that morning, although Scott thought that that would surely change throughout the day as he knew that Earl's job was labour intensive.

"Look here, Scott," Earl began slowly, uncertain of himself for once. "I didn't mean to get angry with you then, but there's something that's been on my mind. It's Fran."

"Fran?" Scott prodded gently as his heart rate escalated tenfold, beating a hole in his chest.

"I...uh..." Earl did not know where to begin. "Well...she... She's been very...sexual of late and I'm caught her around the house doing...you know... Pleasing herself. It's happened quite a lot now, since it's harder for me to do it for her. Very hard."

"Oh, the injury..." Scott mused, intrigued by the turn in conversation and exceptionally glad that Earl did not want to talk about something that would have particularly worried him. "There are ways to get around that, I wouldn't worry. Viagra for one, toys and oral techniques would be a start. All adds to the fun, right?"

"I've had enough of the Viagra," Earl snorted and waved his paw. "If I put any more into my system, god knows what will happen. No, Scott," he sighed and rested his head in his upturned paws. "I think she's going to divorce me."

"What? No! No, that's not right, Earl," Scott rubbed his shoulder comfortingly. "Fran's not like that and you are still able to change things.

Comforting the old 'saur, Scott patted his back awkwardly and pushed another glass of water towards him. Earl gladly took it and swallowed a few, revitalising gulps, wiping his lips afterwards with the flat of his palm.

"I do have to change things," Earl muttered into his palm, looking up with renewed determination. "Scott, you must help me. Please."

There was a pause while Scott digested exactly what Earl had said that he 'must' do.

"What are you asking me to do?" Scott asked warily.

"Just some help with pleasing Fran..." Earl reassured him, although Scott was not very reassured by this information. "I mean, what do you think she would like best?"

"I...I, uh..." Scott shook his head. "I expect that Fran likes what most women like and you would know how to please her best, Earl."

"Oh, for fuck's sake," Earl growled in exasperation. "Why does this have to be so difficult? I wish you could just come into the bedroom and see what we do so that you could damn well tell me what I'm doing wrong. Now that would be useful advice and none of this 'you would know how to please her best' nonsense."

Shaking his head vigorously, Scott remained silent, afraid of provoking Earl again when he was so obviously on a short fuse. If he did watch them in the bedroom... He grimaced and shook his head again, knowing what a bad idea that would be. Robbie was not the only one with a secret and there were many secrets in this house that Scott was a part of, little to Earl's knowledge.

"Think about it at least," Earl pleaded as a parting shot, rising from the table and scraping the chair back gratingly. "I'm off now."

Leaving Scott to his thoughts, Earl stomped out the door, presumably to work, and let the door slam loudly at his heels. Scott rubbed his jaw and shifted uncomfortably. Earl trusted him to a point and he had lied to his face. In fact, he knew very well what pleased Fran in the bedroom, probably better than Earl did. There was a small creak on the hall floorboards, visible through the open kitchen door, and Scott turned his head, smiling slightly at Fran who stood framed in the entrance to the kitchen: she was completely nude.

"Are you ready to give me a quick...massage?" She near purred, running her paws down her front teasingly.

His dilemma could be confronted later, he decided with a grin. Coming over to her side, Scott took Fran's paw and led her up to the bedroom. Robbie would not be back for a while and they had plenty of time for a very special kind of massage.