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My Gym Partner's Bro Blazes Down, Part One By Eightane ************************************************* Shrill notes hit David the second he poked the doorbell, to which he winced behind thick glasses. But annoyance fell quickly away. He was elsewise occupied, his brown aardvark eyes scanning the house. A pair of grey feet - sockless in sandals - switched idly from tiptoes to flat and back. It was worth the wait outside, just to study the spread of this split-level. Twenty full yards from side to side, the two-story section tall with black shutters, both ends dressed in pewter roof and pearl siding. The porch he occupied lay from its lowest floor, and even with the sun's midday angle, a roofshadow fell beyond his red tee. Most others of his same age and means would be jealous, but he felt only glad for them; and maybe a bit surprised, that guys like his resident pals would come from privelege. The time ran out for marvelling; David's ears pricked, as footsteps from inside grew louder. His fingers crossed hard, behind a bulge in the golden pocket of his gym shorts. There were two residents he'd be glad to see... And two much-older ones he wouldn't. Just as pacing within came to silence, the doorknob's brass rotated. One more tiny moment, while he sprung to attention, and the rust-colour wood swung open. He found relief with what met him; a familiar two-tone wool cap, faded collar of a polo shirt, jeans and cleated boots on the young gorilla. David felt his face brighten... Though the adolescent ape seemed not to bounce this back. "Windsor! How's it been, bud?" His squeaky tone echoed off the tudor next door. Now a bit more limp and relaxed, he shot a glance to the auburn locks that curled around the hat. "Whoa, your mop's comin' in fast. Only last month, you still had that crew..." The ape was known for muted calm, but his countenance was tenfold more bemused. Lowered eyelids, jutting brow, lips held tight and thin. Those dark-furred arms raised to cross, and pair with a sigh. "Indeed, and salutations. I'm rather downcast to say I expected you." David's glow vaporized. His jaw went slack, and the mid-pitched tone came soft and meek. "What's wrong? Did I do something to offend?" Straightaway, he looked down to his own feet, lifting one to shake its shoe a bit. "I know how they look, but they're comfy." Windsor's eyes rolled, staying longest near the top of their sockets. "If you must be informed, my trepidations concern what you'll imminently do." A judging gaze to David's hip, then back up to the aardvark's face. "Pardon the candor, but I believe you looked far better in camouflage. Or perhaps I merely dwell on your obvious parcel..." His voice sank even lower, staring to David's full pocket. "... And the skunky bouquet issued from therein." David chuckled, and ceased worrying. At least now he knew what bothered the teen. "Only that, huh? Well, you know I keep you out of it." Another sigh from Windsor, this one firmer and seething. His eyes grew narrow. "Gee, I can't perceive where I've heard that prior." By now, David wouldn't be shocked if the door was slammed in his face. But the ape's ire seemed to mellow, while he gave a nod behind, aimed into the house. "Only from the selfsame hellion awaiting you. Up the stairs, steer yourself rightwards and it's the second door." He looked off to the side, on nothing in particular. "Now if you don't begrudge it, I'll plod my way to the corner grocery. Mother's phoned to request my aid in choosing rations." "Oh, that's no pro-" David started. He was cut short, as Windsor all-but-shoved his way past, strolling down the porch and across the well-trimmed lawn. He didn't look back, his chin high and forward, while David watched after in frustration. At last, a streak of guilt in the aardvark bade him cup his hands and yell after. "I had fun at the ball game last week!" It put a shimmy in Windsor's step, and lit memories in his grey matter; of a sultry summer dusk at his brother's high school, watching Will from the bleachers, gorging on popcorn and joking back and forth on how his quarterback bro defined 'tight end'. Windsor's head turned just enough to show one eye, and speak the first without irritation. "Likewise. Your fellowship's agreeable, when we don't cross paths in this scenario." Though still walking, he'd swapped 'stern' for something closer to caution, less pucker in his words while they proceeded. "Keep mindful up there, at least to what degree that substance allows. Don't assume he wouldn't leap at the mildest opportunity."

On this, David stood frozen in the doorway, watching his friend leave on odd terms. From the furthest he could still hear, Windsor shouted back a final note. "Make haste, you're welcoming the flies inside." It was enough to snap the aardvark from thought, and he stepped in to slam the door behind him. He'd been taken with the house from outside; but its interior was far more sublime. It opened straight to a den large enough to park a semi, the end farthest from him jutting out in two bay windows. White popcorn ceiling, beyond a small yellow chandelier above him, switched off but still glistening for spotless shine. His toes were tickled by burgundy shag; it hugged the room's every corner, far past a modernist couch and recliner, beneath a top-line entertainment center, 3D TV and all the bells and whistles you could want for it. To his left was the dining room, opened out to this den so to shape the combined space as an "L". A tall, wide counter made the centerpiece, topped in marble; holding one single dish, a scented reed diffuser with three long stalks. Each so lengthy they rivaled his nose; it twitched at the scent of saffron and vanilla. Below, the counter's sides were cherrywood plank. The same wood as its floor, a dark hint of red that well-complemented the nearby carpet; surely intentional, as it occurred to David. An impressive row of cabinets, all in cedar, wrapped the perimeter; below them, more marble around a double-sink, and under a toaster, microwave and all the expected appliances. From a hook on the ceiling, centered on the counter that itself centered the kitchen, was a white plastic planter; cheap material, but for purpose of lightness, as it was weighed down with a gorgeous Phalaenopsis. The bay windows themselves - a good thirty feet away - held more orchids, a bushy Jade plant, a tiny-leaved bonsai and a healthy Venus flytrap. David was confused by the last, thinking a house this clean and well-accoutre'd would hardly have a problem like bugs; until he looked a bit higher, and realized one windowpane was open. He snickered... To have a setup this direct was almost unfair to the bugs. And in a way, one could argue sadistic. But by the bend of the "L", where the den ended and kitchen began, set a narrow hall; with raised ceiling and six steep stairs. Doubtless where Windsor had pointed him, by the departure. So deciding he'd spent enough time gawking - and not forgetting his reason to come - he started towards it. Curious thing, the pits in the carpet from the door to those steps. Fresh enough to hold their shape, and most were formed as the large feet of any gorilla. A few were separate, however, far enough that the outline of a hoof was plainly visible. Perhaps the folks rented out a chunk of this splendor... Or, David guessed, it wasn't written in stone he'd be the only guest. There was spring in his step more than usual; partly from the carpet on his piggies, but more from high hopes. While he hit the first stair, he thought back on the month before; all the bullshit of base camp, what he no longer suffered; and how long it'd been since spending time with the guys who relieved him. Near the top step, he smiled with shallow sigh; Will's inviting him might not've been what Windsor would choose, but the younger ape would have to understand. And if it was later, as opposed to sooner, he'd just have to deal... Nothing David imagined could make this worth missing. The hallway went on, with side rooms in the single-story portion of the home. David looked to his right, and saw the steps continuing... Eight more, the final two curving to his right. So walking on, and up, he wondered just how Will's bedroom might look; what 'environment' would suit a man like him. This thought was the shortest yet; broken up by sound, as David passed the fourth stair. A faint hooting 'n' hollering, in the tone you'd hear with jokes... And as David turned the curve of the crest, he could swear he heard a second voice; just as deep, but less-throated, like it came from someone shorter. The stairs ended perpendicular to one straight hallway, square windows lighting either side; an open door to his left, what looked like an office from the books and stack of papers peeking out. A bit further to his right, a door tightly shut; the sliver of tile he could see at its threshold meant a bathroom. And then the next one... An aged, fading oak door, partly-plastered in posters, above a wrought-iron handle. He walked lazily up, intrigued by the first thing in this house less-than-magazineworthy. His ears twitched from laughter behind it; the pitch was a dead-ringer for Will's, over what sounded like a faint R&B hook. The scent of reeds, he'd passed; now, in their place, was something dingy and a damn-sight-less flowery. Like all the finer smells of a locker room; sweat, grass and ambient machismo. Suited to a jock like that gorilla, but rather strong to be there outside the door. Now close enough to knock, he waited just to read the nailed-up pages. Three in total: an ad for cologne that showed a lumberjack bear, log on his shoulder and a flannel shirt unbuttoned and open; then a joke ad for something called WonderMilk, with blurbs about virility and bull semen. But the smallest, and the only one that didn't inspire chortles, was a photo. Will standing on a mountaintop, faced towards the camera. To one side of him stood a weatherworn plaque for Pike's Peak; to the other, a certain monkey shouldered up to him, the backwards cap near Will's shoulder-height. The gorilla's black hand was at his bud's scalp, two fingers giving Jerr 'bunny ears'. Jerr, meantime, had one arm behind and through Will's legs, with one digit poking straight out from the taller ape's crotch; a different joke altogether. The monkey's other hand made the sign for "A-OK"; both wore grins that were goofy, but had a hint of something else. David guessed this picture was up for a reason; but right now, it was time to make appearance. The smile on his mug was all-but-carved, as steady as it stayed; his right arm rose, and a fist rapped the door slow 'n' firm. The laughs went quiet; then followed by a raspy command; still a voice that could only be Will's. "It's open. Get your hairy asscheeks in here." David had to laugh; shaking his head with a grin, while he gripped the knob and turned. The door swung open; and with his face to the ground, he gave a joking retort. "Well that's strong language for a frie-... Whoa..." His chin had risen, and with it his view. The final word came as a hiccup; he practically jumped. Not the room itself that took him off guard; he'd have predicted the jungle-print wallpaper, or the dingy carpet, emerald-green like the eyes of its gorilla owner. Likewise, there was no shock in a water bed, or HDTV with Blu-ray, by virtue of the rest of this house. Nor the life-size poster on the far wall; an older, hairy-chested elephant, pants down, wet from rainwater, legs spread while he posed against a lightpole. Above this pinup, around a black plastic rod, lay a rolled-up sheet of canvas; the means to hide it from less-likeminded company. For someone like Will - or his shorter, better half - this was almost subdued. But Will himself inspired the reaction. Lying out on blue bedsheets, head high on pillows, knees wide, his muscular body nude as a jaybird... Or as the monkey below him, who lay with backwards cap at the bed's foot, his legs propped on Will's thighs, ankles sidling his gut. They met at the crotch; and while David slowly stepped in, and they smiled back, he saw the pose in full. Two rigid cocks; one four inches, uncut and based in orange fur, head-to-shaft with a loose-cut gorilla dick just half-an-inch-shy of twice its size. Jerr's hand gripped them tight, together, and slid up both with the sound of dry stroke; to Will's flared head, far past the tip of his own. Monkey and gorilla groaned alike; then into a chuckle, the 'you caught me' kind. David chuckled back; and felt the slightest bulge in his gym shorts, aside from the one on his hip. Will, though clearly busy, wouldn't let that simple fact rob his voice; mumbling strong and low as ever. "'Bout time you dropped in. I don't fancy we're stupid enough just yet." David did show some stutter in his voice; it wasn't expected to find this sort of eye candy. "S-stupid-sexy, if that qualifies." Jerr pierced the grungy air with a guffaw. "Man, such a dork." He swung head smoothly away from David, to watch his own frotting work. "Speakin' of... God-damn I don't get tired o' this." He cut eyes back to the new visitor, and tilted his head; it pointed past David, to the single window in the room. The aardvark saw the sill, protruding out and littered with seeds, some half-burnt; then the wooden chair astride it, clearly old but in nicer condition than anything around. The monkey's tone went flat; uncommonly serious. "There's your station if you wanna 'clock in'. Watch the seat, it's older than my granddad's ear hair." "No lie," Will added, his voice now a bit more trembly. "If anything should happen to that chaaii... Ho-old up, man." Before, he'd spoke at David; but the last part was directed to Jerr. It was understood; the double-stroke slowed to a crawl, Jerr's slim fingers taking far more time from head-to-root. "I know, you ain't tryin' to blow just yet." He'd never lost his smirk; it only widened, as his head went back, viewing the TV upside-down. David plopped down careful in the chair; and now watching the set like Jerr, he learned where the R&B originated. A porno; two human men, hispanic, built like wrestlers, shaven clean head-to-toe, one pinning the other on a wall and sliding nine thick inches up his crack. Jerr spoke again, but this time dripping with crave. "Sure it's hard enough, watchin' these studs.... Fuuuuck, man..." He chuckled, out of pleasure. "... I love the shit outta human dudes. Look at all that skin... Shows every damn inch o' their beef..." By now, David's shorts had a hill growing topside. He'd started to reach in his pocket, for the 'parcel'... But now reached lower, eyes stuck to the screen, rubbing that hill through the fabric. "Fuck, you're right... No wonder they're popular like this." Will sighed; his well-built arms lifted to lock behind his head, exposing wisps of pit hair in the process. "More pop and poppable; they're like dolphins, certified freaks." His green orbs skewed from porn to David. "So how's life been chugging along? Good mileage from your freedom?" David saw Will as he spoke; and then a head popped up next to his, from the other side of the bed. It would've startled him, had he not recognized it on-sight. A billy goat, and his thick southern drawl. "Yehh, you half 'z happy as this lost soul?" "J-Josh? " David's free hand went to his glasses, adjusting them for certainty. "Well shit, it is a party up in here." The goat's twang was thickest in his laugh. "Nahh, just us bro's. Ferr me, a party means chicks are in grab-distance." "Tch," Jerr whicked, in good humour but protesting. "For the 'tards that play both fields. Y'know, we got a name for that." Josh met the monkey's glance; leaning forward, enough that David could see him on a swivel chair, clothed in loose tank top and cargo pants. "Oh yeah, wut?" Will was the one to answer, head arched with a lazy-told punch line. "Benedict Arnolds." They all laughed, but Josh loudest; playing with his goatee in habit. "Cool, but ah don't put stock in the opinions o' queers." "Oooooooo", from both simians at once. Will continued on. "Well there's advantage to living in a house this tall. Someone crosses you, just open the window and see how long it takes them to repent. Or hit the ground, whatever's first." Another laugh from the quartet, though David's was nervous to a certain end. He shook his head, to shake off his mental baggage, just in time for Josh to speak at him again. "So what are you intuh these days, man? Heard you an' Windsor are tighter'n ever." The invitation to talk chased away David's nerves, and stubborn shyness. "Well y'know we met on the base. Being stuck in the same roulette of KP builds a bond, I guess." "Ah bet." "But... I think we've just gone on like we would've, only now we hang out and do things we want. No peeling food or shining latrines." Will interjected. "Like the game last Friday. I spotted you up in the crowd; if he were older, I'd swear you two were dating." "Oh God, shut up," David seethed, shuddering. "My middle name is... Well, it ain't Statutory." Will lost it more than any joke before; his hard paunch pulsing with belly-laughs, shaking his cock while Jerr held tight to the slow frotting stroke. "Funny you said that", Josh threw in. "B'fore you came in, I was just talkin' 'bout how m' first name's Jerr's middle one. You believe in destiny?" David's brow curved up. "Maybe. How do you mean?" "Well... I've been searchin' out a reason for our luck. T' have these two break us out, an' get the Colonel court-martialled. I keep up with Roland, an' just yesterday-" Jerr butted in; right after licking his lips, staring up at that long gorilla shaft he gently pleasured. "-My bad for tact, man, but let's switch up topics here. Like to the mound on D's thigh... Fuckin' size of a cyst." Josh shot fast with wit. "A cyst's nicer t' talk about?" The monkey leered back to him; still sprawled, cock-to-cock with his busom bud. "If we know what it really is." He swung attention to David. "Go on, showcase that shit." The grey mammal chuckled; hand diving in his pocket, and coming out slow. He did his best to mock the models on The Price is Right, complete with vacant smile and pointing by his free hand. But all the goat and apes cared for was the tight-rolled bag in his hand; as it unrolled, and in a sunbeam from the window, showed off the verdant green in caked clumps. Though not entirely green; a single other colour showed up, in tiny threadlike veins. Jerr's laugh was throated, more air than sound; proof he was impressed on-sight. "Dude, Will, pinch me. I see red hairs." Will was starstruck just the same; but reached his thick fingers down to Jerr, and complied. The monkey was pinched; softly, on the crease of his sack, and David watched that cap-covered scalp sink low with the moaning "Ohhhh-h-hh..." His head lifted back a moment later; now slack-jawed, eyes narrow as they shot Will that telltale stare of need. "Any more o' that and I'll blow." Will stared right back, a smoky glare that showed just how he wore the pants in their comraudery. "That's supposed to stop me?" David set the bag on he windowsill; gently, so he could do so with his face still glued to the show. His hand reached down to the other pocket; his words didn't hide his enjoyment. "Damn, Windsor didn't lie. You two are mansex incarnate." In his tone, the arousal was thick; until now, as he went on, a bit morose while he fumbled through his pocket. "Could be why he split like that... Said he was gone to help your ma with groceries, but-" Will beat him to the point. "-He blew you casually off. And skipped away like it's nothing." David froze, looking up at Will. "That's the norm?" Will laughed one brief, breathy heave, rolling his eyes. "His method. Call you out, write you off for getting under his skin, like some passive-aggressive wife who's jabbed her spouse for barhopping." Will showed exasperation; but his lips still curled to a smile. "And I let him think it bothers me." David's chops did the same, soon a full-on grin. "You're just a hair on the evil side, aren't you?" "Depends. Never more than what fits my motives... Mmmnn..." He groaned, with Jerr feeling his throb in a stroke. "Rest at ease, man. He's just butthurt that the first time you're here, it's for me..." His smile widened, eyes locked on the bag at the window. "And that." "Oh. Well..." David mimed looking around, like he was weighing facts. Truthfully, he knew how to answer. "... He can come to terms." Jerr's douchebag chuckle, as he was most surprised at the answer. "Hell to the yeah." Another breath, another moan while his monkey dick pulsed by Will's cut. "Now break out the papers. Let's get dumbfuck-dizzy like the clouds are too low! " He whooped; Will smacked him on the hip, indicting his insanity. Josh laughed until he snorted. David would've chuckled, but it was more important to act out his ace-up-the-sleeve. "Papers? As in, for a joint?" Jerr settled down; and looked with cool, though fast-growing, confusion. "Damn straight, D. You know th-... Wait, you DID bring 'em..." Now it was David's turn to laugh loudest. "Wow, I'm shocked I'd have to tell you. Split between four guys, a joint just won't cut it..." And finally, his hand slid out of the pocket it had filled. Coming out were four short grey fingers, a wrinkly palm, and a long, corrugated tube. He brandished it, like a hunter showing his son his first gun. "... If I can be so blunt." Three faces lit up like a glow. Josh clapped, Will hollered and Jerr whipped his hand in finger-curled 'street' approval. The monkey's voice went high, but chill. "That's wassup!" Without knowing, he began to stroke harder... And both apes reacted with sigh and rolling gut. "Ohhhfuckyeah... Man, I'mma get a creambath from pride! " David's head bounced with his chuckle; he unwrapped the tube with care, pinning it to the sill with a finger, adeptly opening the baggie one-handed. "Something tells me you guys have some stories in you. Like, tales from kinky past, in so many words." "Oh, man..." Jerr replied, meaning 'yes' but still coming down from quick strokes. "... The shit we've done could fill a dicktionary." He took on a sly gaze. "Why, you achin' to hear?" "Might as well," David answered, just starting to sprinkle the roll tube with product. "It'll take me a minute to make... I got a certain way, so it'll burn slow and smoke like hell." He returned Jerr's slyness in kind. "That's the target, am I right?" "Shiiiiiitt," Jerr cooed. "Right as white rain." He adjusted his legs, to keep them awake while tending two hot, hard cocks. He was drawn to peer at his work; seeing that and Will's stubble'd smile beyond. "Fuckyeh... So where to start?" Asking both aardvark and gorilla. "It's like pickin' a straw from a haystack." Will's eyes sank lazily shut, humming while his seven-point-five coursed warm blood. "Mmm... Maybe the last good unique one. Ohh... Give him somethin' interesting to chew on." "Heh, can do." Jerr's head bobbed to each side, in love with the sight of Will's shaft. What came to his mind, only deepened this. "Remember that cook at school? The one they booted... 'Cause of us..." ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Steam and sharp 'thud's filled the kitchen. Ten fingers gripped stainless steel, their silvery pinkness soft and wide. It wasn't hard to pin a man his size, facing that sturdy counter; the hippo's rolls of fat restrained mobility, and his billowing gut pushed into the metal's coldness. Will's strength was more than adequate; straddling this chub from behind, arms around his chest while two ape hands pinched his huge nipples. "Yeah, I knew that'd rock your world. You fatties melt, teased by those fluffy moobs." It was muttered by the hippo's ear; close enough that his hairnet rubbed Will's cheek. The gorilla's gut was huskular, well-dwarfed by the heft of his sub; Will's stomach slid on folds of fat, draping that cook's every lumbar. Long, thick ape meat pushed up through a pair of buns; almost tighter than the hole underneath, with how their size had them crowding each other. Jiggling fast, while he took that split's advantage; his bone coaxing moans from deep in the hippo's naked core. Will's jersey and shorts were a blanket for the stained, clammy floor tiles; as were the hippo's polo, khakis and white fabric apron. All piled atop Jerr's red tee; he was never last to shed clothes. They made a mound of colour, contrast for the shades of grey around them; even the ovens were a porcelain white, not unlike the ladles suspended in-line from a rack above the hippo. Though one was tan and wooden, like the rolling pin one-down from it; hanging over Jerr's head, almost like it pointed to the amoral monkey. He sat high on the cold, smooth counter, legs limp over the side, spread wide to make it past and around the hippo's belly. The chill was sharp on his keister; but not half as sharp as on the skin of his fuzzy, pent sack, below a straight hardon. His four hooded inches swung in the air; while he smelled the swirl of foods that surrounded them, in pans or fresh tureens. Pot roast with garlic... Seasoned greens... Mac and cheese. All with an underscent of butter; not containing it, but just what lay closest to the monkey, who focused on the hippo's five-inch curved wang. Jerr's hip was by a tin of Land O' Lakes; its contents coating his fingers, and the length of an older chef's manhood, while he stroked the chub with edible lube. Ogling the wide, manly bread basket before him; cheering under his breath for the mewls of a man whose tool he pleasured. Will leered to his accomplice, over the fat neck of his uke. "Shit, that's makin' a meal. You poised to feast on this butterball?" This, while he shoved a hard thrust, so far up the hippo's cheeks that his tawny nuts knocked on their midpoint. He groaned, in that mumbling baritone; Jerr shot back with a high-pitched slacker's laugh. "Fuckin' A, man. But I dunno about the taste of pure butter..." His grin was impish, while looking around him; to a nearby group of containers, the makings of a Tuesday special sundae. Chocolate syrup, next to cans of whipped cream, and a fist-sized shaker of sprinkles. "... I'll do a quick fix." Jerr's cap had been on, always secured; except for now, when he snatched by the bill and lowered it to wrap the cook's greased member. Then rubbing its pink flesh with the scalpseat... Slow enough to mitigate pain, but firm to soak up all the blend of butter and sweat. The hippo had already swayed, jacked off with his own slick sundries; but now his knees buckled under him, only saved from falling by the table and Will's muscled arms. They held tight, though still toying with his chest; a pair of huge areolas, folding as the ape pinched hard. Straightaway, Will's hips shot back from the cook's; far behind hippo thighs, their smooth trunks thick enough to meet above his knees. And the athletic ape came back at full-strength, rubber-banding to shove between those cheeks, and drill past a giant pair of love-pillows. He and Jerr were a machine, like-minded and in mutual tune... As the monkey cleaned that chef's tool, leaving his curve in a shine, he leaned back and rolled away to grab the cream canister; half-a-second before Will made rough penetration, and the hippo just fell over the table, belly-flopped while its flattening mass shook and jostled. A middle-aged steward for the cafeteria, now at the mercy of two students. One a football player, ramming his hole doggy-style; with the school's mascot for cocksucking, that quarterback's wingman, spraying Reddi-Whip in a palm that knew more men than a masseus. Will sneered, ripping into the portly male; a bead of sweat just starting down his cheek. "Yeahhh, how's it feel, fatso... Unngh...Taking your goddamn medicine..." The hippo struggled to speak; made breathless, though he'd used no effort himself. The tone was rough, rattling in his throat. "I... Can't... Complain..." "Yeah, colour me shocked..." Will clutched him by ginormous love handles. "... You're looser back deep than your car's seat belt... Bet your buns are only tight 'cuz they struggle for room..." He shoved every thick inch, watching those cheeks flush red. "Face it, you're a slut enough for two... And I'm talkin' by weight..." The hippo's moans were broken, belaboured, like a rutting walrus. "... Asshole..." "Already there, mancunt..." Will's mutter became a cruel chuckle. Jerr was discontent to stand by; already stroking himself with an empty hand, the other heaped with sweet foam topping. "Lean him up, man. This whore ain't about to just lay low and take it." Will's palms moved up the cook's body, finding his chest and slipping under the heavy rolls of bulk. "Hear that, Humpty? You gotta give if you mean to take..." Will's muscle was barely sufficient; slowly lifting the hippo from the counter, still railing his passage like a stallion. They edged up to the stainless steel; Jerr approached them, walking-JO and menacing the cook with sweet calories. "Up for dessert, man?" He ogled the hippo's gut, suspended and loose. "Heh, pretty rhetorical." The monkey studied his pink face, blushing with Will buried in his mancave. His beady eyes winced; wide hippo teeth sat exposed, while he gasped for air. And as he barely cracked one eyelid, glancing to Jerr's fistful of cream, there was motion in his tongue... Whipping by his thin, long lips. Jerr had his answer... And just as quick, he sauntered up to the quaking gut, and pressed his palm to each nipple. Dotting them white, before raising his hand to the hippo's maw. "Eat up, lardo. You motherfuckin' want it." The cook had groaned, when Will first pushed in; but it was nothing compared with the whine he threw now, his neck rolling folds of flesh as it snapped forward and snatched away the whip. Jerr laughed loud and brief; to see the hippo's lips caked with white, and watch him gulp down the rest in a flash. So Jerr took up the can, spraying more in his hand, as it stayed while he dove down below the cook's chins; orange tail whipping fiestily, while he sank his jawline over one moob, and applied suction to the cream-covered endpoint. His hand dived low, to the clean-shaven fatpad of the hippo's crotch; coating his loins near as heavy as those nipples. Then, with Will spearing the cook's fat rear, he lifted to the hippo's mouth, while his orange fur pressed up to soft pink belly. The hippo would've snatched it off in gobs, hungry and teased with sweet sustenance... If it wasn't all-but-forced down his throat, Jerr chuckling like mad while he rammed that fist between his teeth. The chimp's other hand stayed true to himself; squeezing tight on his cock, jerking it to where the foreskin would hide and expose the head in turn. "Swallow, y' fat bastard." He obeyed. Jerr sprayed another mound, and lifted. Shoving it down, feeling a huge tongue scoop it off, all between hard breaths. "Yeah, build that gut, boy." He's cleaned every bubbly drop from one breast; and leaned down to suckle the other, his mouth filled with hanging flesh... Fairly like something else he loved in his craw, to keep him hard as the counter while he stroked. Leaving every few seconds, to tease the cook with words. "Ohhhfuck, you're huge... I ain't a chaser, but all big on a man's the shit by me... How y' like it, dude... Havin' my bud fuck your he-hole even looser..." The hippo wailed out, overtaken; his sensitive moobs were being sucked, with the taste of creamy heaven on his tongue, and the pain of Will forcing in that huge gorilla shaft, harder every minute. He heard his own gasps, giving air to fuel his poundage; Will's growling, next to his temple while his tight pink hole was victimized; and then Jerr's smug tenor again, mushmouthed with a jawful of cream. "You like chocolate, tubs'? " The moan, and the cook's trembling nod, was affirmative. "Heh, me too." Leading him to think that'd be the next course, Jerr took the bottle of brown in hand. Pouring it over the fingers of his other mitt, until they were slimed down to the edge of orange wrist fur. Between his legs, throbbed a dick no softer than the huge weapon of Will's, rutting their unfortunate - or fortunate - mark. The gorilla's teeth bared, laying into that hippo; while Jerr called out a smooth command. "Turn 'im over, man. I want this marshmallow lookin' up." "Unngh... Not a bad concept..." Will's grin overrode his sneer. Inch-after-smooth-cut-inch pulled out, quick enough to yank the hippo back; then brought forward, at the shove of Will's wide palms. The cook was to the point of hysteria; before any sense could return, he found himself spun down on the cold counter, planted neck-to-ass. This, while Will gripped his thighs and shoved right back in; while Jerr's dudely cackle came on, his body self-flung over a mountain of pink wobbling flesh. "Now..." The monkey mugged, gut-to-gut with the ten-times larger hippo, settling to line up his face above the cook's manhood, "We're gonna break you, no doubt or dodgin'." His chocolate-glazed hand appeared close by, fingers skittering in the air to taunt with their agility. "Might as well get cozy with the thought." The hippo's head was raised, seeing all; the monkey's ass, fuzzy and more-flesh than his own set of chins. The tail, going wild in anticipating swings; and Will's expression of greed, just poured over his stubble while he ravaged that huge rear. Poured like the sauce on Jerr's digits, slinking down over six curved inches... Just beginning a slow, pro stroke. A 'clang' narrated the slam of hippo's head on the counter, as hard as it could hit from going limp. The moaning stopped; he was so overcome, sound just wouldn't make it past his lungs. Thick silvery legs twitched and jumped; his stomach heaved in feverish fall and rise, under Jerr's. The chocolate worked its wonder, not a bit less apt than lube; and far better for being swirled in with monkey spit. Jerr had meant to start with control; holding off on oral, until the right moment to pounce. But neither motive, nor all the experience in history, could remove his addiction. It was four seconds; all he could bear to stroke the cook, before his mouth dove down like a predator to prey, it and his hand each in praise of three throbbing inches. The hippo's silence ended, in a shrill, helpless caterwaul. Jerr took him to the root; angled down, licking up the cream from his loins, adding it to the chocolate-maw slurry while he worked those long-trained lips. A hair lower, Will had him sore and chafing, all the ape strength focused to dig between those buns. Pre flowed steady through Will's helmet, just another aid for him to wreck the cook, and keep that chub slut shimmying. He growled with every thrust; Jerr hummed with each dip of his head, and twist of his hand. The hippo whined, wailed, did everything short of a scream. And Will knew the time to speak. "Rrgh... Had enough... Encouragement? " The hippo heard, though fighting his own lungs' rattle. It was simply too much... He couldn't hope to answer, with that jock deep in his hole, and Jerr sucking him down, in a frenzy for the dessert of man. But the monkey let off, and gazed cheekily up to his ally. "That's a 'no', I'm thinkin'. Dude's a tough nut to crack..." He stared down to the hippo's cock, pulsing and coloured with the sweet syrup; lust beamed from the blue of his eyes. "Sucks for him we're tougher." "Damn straight... Then he can... Unnrgh... Have it his way..." Will never slowed his pummel. Jerr's jaw sank over the hippo, throating him with minimal effort. The tank of grey-pink flesh could only shake, and moan, and weather this duo. Seconds grew to minutes, and beyond, while they made his every shame their toy. His mind was aglow, hardly different than his aching, used body; but flashing over details and memories, conversations and rumours. He hadn't listened to the teachers. Principal Wolverine's warning fell on deaf ears. Even whispers of the students weren't enough. But in truth, it hardly mattered; if they wanted him, they'd act, and no belief or tactics could belay that. He hadn't expected to like it; not nearly to the ends he now did, at the mercy of Will's strength and Jerr's skill. But he'd known from the day of hire, that if he caught their eye this would be the story. He joined a long list, of all shapes, builds and ages; and when their fun was had, he'd only find himself another name on the tally. Will's thrusts were feral; infused with all the cruelty of his sport. The same power that last year took their team to the championship, was focused in that well-hung member, splitting the cook while a bath of pre gummed up his passage. Still going harder; not a sign of climax, while the counter rumbled beneath them. The ape's way with words never failed; even through a battery of grunts, low and virile. "Fuckin' fatass... Still need convincing..." Jerr slobbed the hippo's length like a fiend; but having something to add, he drew up and offered, in phrases short enough that he could dip down to suck twice on every breath. "Mmmnn... No big, man... Mmmff... That's what you... Mmnmmnmfnm... Got ME for..." It took guts, for the monkey to pop his mouth free. Though he found the willpower, it took a moment to get himself in gear; staring at the sweet, sweaty meat, his eyes worshipping where his maw left off. He had to practically throw himself away, pushing off by his hands to dismount the hippo's gut. With Will still shanking the cook's hole raw, he had the distraction to leap for the counter's edge, behind the hippo's head. Grabbing its side with his clean hand, swinging underneath to a tiny, tucked-away shelf. He snatched the box that filled it with his messier hand, before his feet could come down; then jumping forward, and grabbing the counter's other edge. A prehensile tail was a blessing, giving balance for him to swing out, and up, coming down right where he'd started. Next to the hippo, who heard the clamour and looked to see what spurred Jerr on. His eyes widened, and tongue lolled out; what the monkey held was wide, shallow and marked with 'Fresh Glazed' on the side. The hippo's voice climbed, wailing through his words. "My... Secret... Stash..." "Ain't so secret, dog." Jerr chided, fooling with the side to pop it open. With the lid undone, and the smell of maple donuts wafting out, Jerr held it firm to his chest. All while lowering a hand to his dick, ensuring it was hard enough for action. "I know you ain't half-had enough to be full, just dairy. Since you get off on that shit..." His hand left his cock, to pulse and jump between lanky limbs. Then it dived in the box, and came out with a circular, hole-punched confection. "... I'll just get your 'secret' goin' in my favour." He stood with legs loose, hips forward. So nothing wasn't plain as day, about him lowering the pastry to his dick, sliding it over the uncut prize. His tongue whipped down his chin, finally ridding it of cream... And showing off to the hippo just why the monkey's blow had been heaven. Long, wide and strong; a good match for Will's weapon, still grinding him like a porn star. He couldn't know where to look; upwards, and watch the ape show every fervent sign of dominance, or to peer low and see Jerr's lithe body sliding over him, prepped for a classic 69 with a neoteric twist. The monkey's back was flat, in a field of moist fur behind his backwards cap. The archetypal bro, a 'dude' in all effects, proving why his spine was the straightest thing about him. So eager and aroused, before diving to suck that fluffy hippo, he let slip a noise that whose fame followed his own. The kind of screech that no one but a spidermonkey makes; spun down, to a quiet, lilting, moaning degree. It had a power indelible, running his own lips and tongue, sending the cook to a gasp, and causing Will's literal roar, as he bore down and smashed that loosened cave. Jerr's meat, and a sugary ring, dangled in the cook's face. So with the monkey's tail whirling, same as his tongue across the hippo's dong, he felt a rustle by his own orange loins. That pink-gey gut sloshed like gelatin, shivers of pleasure while he chomped away a bite of puffed maple, and in the process flicked Jerr's shaft with his thick, coarse tongue. A trio of moans shook the kitchen. Jerr cleaned the hippo's loom, every trace of cream and sauce, hardly even trying; it was just a side effect of how thorough he sank himself to pleasuring the cook. The counter holding them was strong; it wouldn't buckle for the weight, but still rocked under stress, what came from Will's violent conquest of that ass. He saw Jerr's body, surrounding the cook's while they exchanged the bliss of oral. It was cause for escalation; he was anything but turned off by his fuckbuddy. To keep control, and stave an early peak, he slowed pace; but in doing so only made each thrust harder. The counter rattled beneath them; and if one took a carpenter's level to it, might find the top was bowing in. All while the hippo made short of the donut, and enlightened Jerr to how much strength a life of gluttony can give a tongue. With every bite, that coarse branch of muscle flew out, curling around Jerr's manhood; miniature barbs like a cat's raked him up to the foreskin. Jerr's head already bobbed, sucking on the chub; something that deepened, while six inches muffled his moan. Soon after, he popped his mouth free, to which the floodgates of groan were opened... Sounding his surprise at the cook's nimble service. He reached out, trembling with the hippo still at work on him and Will jostling all three, and grabbed two things: the chocolate sauce and sprinkles. While the hippo ate away the last of the donut, he had fridge-chilled sauce poured over him again; and his legs, from thigh to ankle, bucked out with his wail. Jerr gasped for air; not at all out-of-shape like their victim, but simply making up for how the sheer effort he put to fellating would sometimes preclude his own breath. It returned to him, propping himself up on elbows, while he switched the sauce for sprinkles; multicoloured bars of sugar, he shook fast over the hippo's meat. His laugh was deep; so low and gutteral, just from joy in deviance, it could've passed for Will's. "Fuck yeah, hot dick sundae. How you feel about that, butterball?" The hippo whined; a signal to Jerr that they had him on-edge, only since it was louder than when he'd still been suckling that curve. He lowered down to position; taking time to admire it, the hard, throbbing tool dressed up like a sinful dessert. So it was, at the monkey's hands, or mouth. He looked up, past the edge of his cap, and in ogling Will's sweat-soaked core, grinned like the devil himself. "He ain't far, man. We're takin' him there, I think we can collect the toll." Will's neck arched, speaking more of his approval than any word. "Urrgh... Alright, tubby..." He shot a smirking grimace past Jerr, to the hippo whose face lay under monkey's ass. "You heard him... Now... Rrngh... Cough up the promise..." "I..." The cook began, quaking on the stainless makeshift bed. "I still don't know if... I mean my job's at staaa-a-a-..." The protest was genuine; but so was the height of Jerr's gift, as he knelt down, tasting chocolate, sweat and sugar. In little time, his lips were caked with them; since he sucked so hard, not much could make it past his chops. His eyes shut to relish the feast... Hearing the cook's voice break in his cries, and then Will's, staying silky while he guided their objective. "Jobs are everywhere - rrrgh - genius. How many places... Would there... Be a pair like us..." "OHHHH-" The hippo was a screamer; climax hadn't hit, but Will had finally earned them their victory. He knew, hearing the cook wail on, Jerr's cock pulsing on his cheek. "You... You win... OhhhhGodyoufuckingwin..." "And just what... Do we win... You fat fuck? " Will felt the first clues; a rush in his gorilla sack, and tingling through every thick inch. "Wh-what you asked..." The cook wavered every word, with Jerr's throat pushed by his cockhead. "N-no more bologna hash..." "Nnngh.. I'm... Listening..." Will's lips went to form an 'O', his dark eyebrows contorting. Jerr's chin swayed, nursing the chef while he gave it up. "Aaaaa-a-and I'll bring back Steak'Ums..." Will's growl was beastly; no more chance of holding back. "A-almost there, sell it! " "And I'll... I'll... Start up Tapioca Thursdays! " "OHHHHFUCK-" Will's teeth clenched, eyes winced, chin shot high. Tension wracked the pure muscle of his arms and legs. His own shallow paunch jiggled as the hippo's, and in one glorious moment the explosion forced deep in that cook. Thick shots of gorilla seed, copious and fast, up the hippo's hole while he slammed a head's dent in the counter. Overwhelmed by Will's peak, long before his own; its power, and his instinct, had him take Jerr's shaft in his mouth. Still flavoured like the donut, while he licked off every crumb and morsel. Jerr did him one better, with chocolate and sugar, using what clung to his lips as a lube to force that cock through his lips. Will's roar boomed in steamy air; dual moaning, and slurping, crooned beneath it. Jerr's dick, like most of lesser size, took similarly less for the finish line. His hips hit on the cook's face, shallow thrusts while he hummed a groan. In the hippo's throat, flecks of sugar mixed with hot cream, monkey balls emptied of their load. Will shoved into the chub, milking the last of his seed. Jerr's swimmers flowed down the throat of their mark. All this, while the monkey's jaw took on the curved pink inches, with a manwhore's ease. It couldn't last the hippo... He was bound to shoot, and with his head rising up, holding Jerr's orange cheeks above it, his blood-curdling screams were the starting gun. It didn't take long; he shot rope after rope, so fast that Jerr could hardly gulp them down. The hippo's voice broke, like a teenager, while his middle-age maleness gave up mouthfuls on end. Jerr's head still swung an airborne path; not for sucking, or tempting the hippo, but in a 'down' expression of ecstacy. It ran no different in his thoughts. 'Fuckin' mancream... Goddamn, it's sweet like the chocolate... That's wassup, that's my fuckin' SHIT! " Screams gave way to gasps, moans to breath, thrusts to tapering pushes. All three spent, having more than earned the afterglow; and the two reprobates earning what they'd sought, beyond just fun. Will's knees bent down, style as he pulled out of the hippo, laying hands on either stocky thigh. He pulled them apart, while Jerr tumbled off the cook's gut; a gorilla's chuckling for the flesh of raw man-hole, reddened skin with gobs of his own sticky dowry. Jerr shoved hands under the pit of his knees, and gave a half-spin like breakdance, to send his head towards the hippo's caboose. He looked up to Will, who returned his stare; their nods to each other were identical. Will stepped back, and lunged for the cook's apron, wiping down his softening whopper; choosing it on purpose, giving the cook a souvenir. Jerr did his own cleaning; of the hippo's asshole, rimming the creampie, salvaging his ape bud's jizz. He sprawled over the hippo's junk, diving below until every single speck was taken up, claimed for his own. Only then did he slide off, and land feet-first on the tile; only then did the hippo slowly, heavily scoot down, and hit the floor with jiggles. It was odd, the quiet over them while they started to dress. Odd, and short-lived. Will pulled on his jersey first; giving his meat more time to soften, so it wouldn't be such a chore to fit in his jeans. "You meant every word." Not a statement, so much as a directive. The hippo stammered, labouring to yank up his khakis. "I... Well, y'know..." Jerr stopped him cold with one glance and a smile. "You ain't shabby, man. Lookin' forward to tomorrow." ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ The monkey's grin beamed. "And just like that, Diane Fossey High got three solid weeks of good chow." Josh cooed a "Daaaayum..." David leaned back in the chair, with a freshly-rolled stogey, its paper tight and fat with filling; earnestly impressed. The tower in his gym shorts proved how; and Josh, sporting the same, had clearly tapped into the male side of his persuasion. Jerr, meantime, had told the tale well as he could; distracted by his dick rubbing Will's, while he stroked both. "We shoulda made use of that rolling pin. You sure as hell made him gapin' enough..." The gorilla grunted, his dick near-painfully engorged. "Nngh, fact... Well hindsight's always 20-20." However slow Jerr'd jerked, the memory was decadent. His mouth stayed slack, as did the musclechub gorilla's opposite him; and the shorter cock held a pool of pre, kept welled within its orange hood. Jerr's hand gave them both a squeeze; the whimper was mutual. "Mmmfuck... Sorta miss that gumdrop." Will nodded in slow style, his mumbles thick with manly seduction. "Can't condemn you for that. So rare that a hole's tight and loose... Like rippin' a week-old fleshlight..." The primate pair tilted heads back, shamelessly chewing the moment; giving goat and aardvark a show of their own. Neither weren't turned on, but Josh was the greater horndog; dropping pants to the floor, and starting a firm jerk of his own six-point-five sausage. "Gawd-damn, guys..." He leaned down, dropping a wad of spit to coat and slick his sheathed shaft. "... Well wut happened to 'im?" Jerr's head turned lazily, a hair too relaxed to do better. "Like I said, canned." David piped in, both aroused and all-out-interested. "So word got out, I take it." Will's sigh came through chuckling irritation. "Nothing good ever lasts. The bigwigs noticed we all were happier at lunchtime, and plates heaped full of entrèes deemed 'unauthorized'." He noted with air quotes. "So they cornered the scapegoat, grilled him, and his mouth was bigger than his gut. So off he went, probably to greener pastures. A.K.A. a new career." Josh gave his own frustrated chuckle. "Ah hate that expression... The one before their grillin' him." Will cut him a smarmy glare, interspersed by tiny clues of a wince; then looked down to Jerr, whose hand caused the latter. "Fuck, man, you can't go slow enough. Stoned like hell down there... And a bit on the dry side..." His focus went to Jerr's short member, and the pool of pre retained by its hood. So reaching a beefy arm downward, with a mutter of "Gimme some," his pointer finger scooped out a share, drawn to a thin goo line. First connected by his fingers and Jerr's cockhead; but quickly moved to the long, streamlined gorillahood. Jerr grinned like a bastard, just to see and know his own dick's pre went to cover and serve his fuckpal's, from the black helmet down past a smooth scar to the ape's short-'n'-curly base. His tug stayed slow, keeping them on-edge; only smoother, and with crackling soundtrack, teasing them no less than their guests. But they'd both been around, and so kept their wits to the needed effect. David held out the blunt, above the throbbing bulge in yellow shorts. Jerr looked to the lower, tongue swashing by his well-ingrained nature; but spoke about the higher. "'Stoned'... That's what's missin' here." He looked on David's face with zeal - and some respect - though the douchebag smirk was well and strong. "Light it up." By now, David saw enough to feel at home, and toss a shy bend to the wind. He dove a hand in his pocket for a lighter; causing his engorged mass to swing, and rub the smooth rayon fabric. It put a jaunt in his words, even more than their newborn confidence. "Heh, like a Rasta votive." He heard Jerr's laugh, and chortles from the others; but set his mind and eyes on a flame. First the 'click', then applying to the mud-grey tip, and the first wispy line of smoke streamed upward; and he raised it to his lips, about to take the first hit, when he froze. "Wait... Should I start it, bein' a guest?" This, and a waver, proved he couldn't beat down his own character. Will was fast to chime in. "Hell no. Right here, birthday boy gets inaugural toke." David looked a sort of relief, with there no longer being uncertainty. He leaned out with a smile, Will meeting him halfway like a ghetto alt of The Creation Of Adam. The aardvark'stone trilled. "Damn, I didn't know it was your birthday!" Will's mouth turned up on one corner. "Because it's not. I just like wearing the suit." David went limp, but smiled wider. Josh guffawed, putting his jerk to a pause. Jerr gazed up, and by practice Will knew to make eye contact. The monkey showed snark in those electric blues, a playful scold, but alongside a twinkle true and bright. And so Will was left holding. It rose to his maw, while he watched his wide hand bring it up. The smell hit his nostrils, an opening act; giving him a grin for the main attraction. Its brown, bland base stuck in his chops; and drawing a breath, three others watched the tip glow red, and that football bro's paunch grow for the sky. Five solid seconds to fill his lungs... Then to hold it in, with a short nasal grunt, while he laid back to focus the onset. The room was at once quiet; save for three others breathing, the porn's audio, and Jerr sliding his palm up two tools, the sound of skin on what was glossed by his pre. Josh had put stroking on hold; but having silence, recalled snippets of the cook's rendezvous, and restarted his spit-borne crank. For twice as long as Will had inhaled, he held; and could almost feel the eyes on him, like he felt his own growing pink. His lungs were strong, but they weren't a swimmer's... And facing up, he sprayed smoke to the ceiling, its white puffs flattening out before they vanished. Jerr gave a cool chuckle, and one quick yank up to Will's cockhead. It sent the gorilla to an "Oooohh", with lips pursed; before they wrapped themselves to a wide, stupid grin. He heard the monkey first. "Good shit?" Josh filled his ears from the corner. "Yeah, wut's the verdict, man? Grey boy come through w' that fire?" Will answered neither; but rolled his head to the side, facing David, with a grin so deep it rivaled a canyon. "Dave, man? " He could already tell it was affirmative; but humoured the ape. "Yeah?" And Will's hand moved with his arm, stretched out towards the aardvark palm-up. David's nerve was back, strong as the pulse in his inseam, while he gave a perfect low-five. Jerr's "Fuck yehh" came in bellow, and prefaced Will's handing him the blunt. With Will on his trip, muscled legs widening for the tingle, Jerr leaned back until the bill of his cap pointed down; still stroking them, while he drew an even harder hit than Will. Eyes shut and lips jutted, taking it to the head, like his fingers on the ape's long weapon. He couldn't hold the puff quite as long; but with half of Will's body mass, the effect was equal. The gorilla had expelled his plainly, a smokestack; but Jerr's style, and energy, demanded more. He glanced to David, who watched those blue chimp eyes wax narrow, and the smirk wrap their face even wider. "Check this shit," he wheezed with tiny outbreath, before opening his mouth to send up a perfect smoke ring. It would've impressed the goat and aardvark just fine, by itself; but with his 'holding' arm relaxed over the bedside, he blew another shape hot on its heels... Long, thick, with an obvious head; and while it drifted up through the first ring, he poofed out two round shapes to join it at the base. Quite a trick, as Josh's shouting cheer and David's dropped jaw explained. Will just howled; of course wasn't shocking, for who'd done it, but he brayed laughs like it was the epitome of humour. Jerr's neck curved with his steady, lax chuckles; now looking to Josh. "Dude... Y'might show this shit reverence, it'll knock a gnat off a cowflop." He held it out to the goat, and while leaning that way, sneaked a long stare at the six-and-more inches poking up from his sheath. "Heheh... Damn, just as ripe as I remember..." He jerked his head back, pointing Josh towards himself while his tongue wet his lips. "C'mere, lemme help you with that." The goat giggled, from both Jerr and his own half-giddy expectations. But he fell back in the chair with a headshake. "Ah might in a short while, I kinda have somethin' I'd wanna do first." He glanced up to Will, eyeing him with a grin and barely less shame. "Plus, looks like you got'churr hands full right now-" The last few words he rushed out, with the smoking blunt brought to his lips. Will spewed more low laughs, and gazed down to the monkey who stroked him. "Listen to the billy. For he's a wise and avid shephard of truth." His tone was plenty-mirthful; just like the dippy words, and a grin cut on his 5 o' clock shadow. David saw it all, with a certain rise in his heart; not even for knowing he was next in rotation. "Man..." His eyes scanned the room, and his friends. "I never thought I'd find me like this... Not just when I was still in the service, but like, ever." Will heard the wistfulness; and though loose-necked and silly, came out with proper question. "What, shamming it with friendlies? Or the kind that drains your spunkbag and hails you as 'dude'. Like we are." "Both? I mean..." He had a certain comfort on his countenance. "On a lazy Sunday, in a half-mansion, gettin' high as the Andes with some good gay porn... Andgoodgaybro's..." He smiled widest on the ending phrase, while affixing eyes on the TV; the two humans had gone to full-on rutting doggy-style, the uke splayed on a burbur rug. Will's teeth shone out, brighter in dull reflection of the ceiling light. "'Mansion' is a bit on the bullshit side. Don't get me wrong, I, eh... Savour the prestige." He sounded matter-of-fact, though speaking slower. "Pop's over marketing for a major pharmaceutical firm. He's on a roll, but hasn't had that all my life..." While he paused, Josh blew a smoky lungful out his nostrils. "... So I'm chums with the ninety-nine, if that appeases you." "Heh..." David swung to face the window. "It's cool either way. I'm used to the other side of the tracks." He turned back towards the pair; wanting just to be sincere, but his bend compelled him to watch the rubbing shafts. It kept him from words, for a moment; Jerr saw, and still smiling his mix of stoned-and-hot, pivoted his hips to rub harder and give his guest a show. It ensured the bulge stayed firm in David's shorts; but the humour in Jerr's shamelessness snapped him out enough to go on. "-Like I said, I don't hate my ol' cottages. This is nice as all getout, but I like the crazy sights. Like a crackhead doing handstands at 4 AM... Or kids fighting over who gets to keep the limbs off a ruined Stretch Armstrong. Those are tame examples." Josh's toke had kicked in, and so hearing, busted out in goatee-shaking belly laughs. "Fuck, you oughta ride on down to the Ozarks one time. Last year I went back ferr a family reunion... M' uncle drove in on a lawn mower he's lacquer'd up with the stars 'n' bars. From his house three miles out, up and down hills with his wife behind lahk a Harley bitch." Jerr guffawed from the depths of his chest. Will did likewise, so much that their members had a temporary swordfight. It bade them flinch and shudder, but soon calmed back down to stroke and rub. Both hard as diamond, just in differing size, cut and uncut; so with Jerr's pre flowing down his foreskin, Will gave pleasured hum and helped himself to another rope, borrowing to shine up his monster. Their grins never shrank; and with more eye contact between them, David saw greater clues of why that photo hung outside Will's door. "Dang..." cooed the aardvark, "One day I'll be in a pair like you. So made for each other, it's scary." Will sighed; pleased by the knowledge, and more mellow for the journey through smoke. The look he shot Jerr was pure affection, manful as it comes. "So true it's frightening." He cut eyes to David; who at last had started tending the mountain in his shorts, through the soft rayon. Will made certain to plainly cast all berth of his sincerity. "You will. I believe in the power of 'want', it's an undersung influence." David's smile was meek; partly from its strength half-stolen by the feel of smooth fabric on his tool. So grand that he nearly missed the country-accent "Heads up! ", as precursor to the blunt gliding up through the air above Will. It was a good toss, straight to David, who caught it well and had it up to toke in a jiffy. The others watched and waited; to see how their 'provider' would react, and maybe know from that how experienced he was. The smoke was held easily; expelled unceremoniously. He showed by far the least 'resistance' of anyone; though one could tell how quick he unwound. It had Jerr in slack jaw and wide eyes. "Alriiiighht, D-man's got a hollow lung!" David chuckled; holding the blunt out, in a pass to Will, while eyelids passively lowered. "Nahh, practice in boredom. All that's about to change, though..." He peered up, to see if anyone caught the hinting. He found three faces, gazing expectantly; the sight drove him to a chortle, and through that the 'feel' of the high kicked in. "Y-yeeaahhh, man, I didn't say it before. I, like, hooked into an office job." "Holy-" Josh started from beyond, shocked and jealous. "I ain't tryin' to be a douche, but someone like you?" Jerr whipped his face toward the billy. "Better pick than you, cornshucker." The goat found himself in rare form. "Back at'cha, cornhole-er." David laughed it off... But kept in toothy grin, for what he had on the brain. "Funny story... My resume was worth its weight in pig shit. So I needed a push to get me in, and, well... The supe needed something of his own..." ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ The young buck wrapped his hand around the door, peeking past its white metal into the office. "You wanted to see me, sir?" It was directed to the desk. Unmarred mahogany, holding a lamp, pen caddy, various papers and a stack of fresh index cards. All in tandem with a gold-lamè plaquard, spelling out 'Torval Uniquay'. An exotic name of the occupant, warming an executive chair behind the desk. The horse had been occupied with notes, scribbling a few in thoughtful leisure, when his antler-ed under answered the call. Now, with his silver-blue mane in quick rise, and all below cloaked in a well-pressed Belgian suit and tie, the buck saw his usual expression; morose, unfettered, but approachable. "I did. Have a seat, Johns, you've been on your... Feet since Tuesday." The horse's eyes narrowed, his facial muscles tightening. But they soon returned to normal, and his large hands locked together on the desk. "It's nothing too serious... I've a few intriguing items from the expense printouts." The buck thought little of his wince; more thinking of what tone this could possibly have, as he pulled up a padded chair to the deskfront. Sitting tall, looking stuffy, as was easy to do in his olive vest and tie. Unsure of what to do with his hands, his thumbs twiddled in what looked like a duel, while his boss thumbed through green sheets of legal pad. Another wince from the Clydesdale, this time with a grumble, but he cleared his throat and began. "As you know, we're crunching numbers this quarter. I don't expect you to work miracles, if you did you'd certainly be more than an accountant." He found one page in particular, and pointed to a line at its center, with a finger that quaked a short instant. "I'm just concerned that we're missing opportunities to... cash in. Not counseling here, I'm more looking for a second opinion. I want to know if... You're seeing it the same, in a few choice areas." The buck followed his every sentence; but that many pauses couldn't be overlooked. "Are you... Alright, Mr. Uniquay?" "I'm fine, it's indigestion. Remind me..." He paused again; also pushing the pad to the desk's far side, so Johns could review his implications. "... Not to give in the next time that ostrich comes by with his Gyro wagon." It got the buck to smile, though studying the midpoint of a page. With him distracted, the horse took it upon himself to rearrange the index cards; now the one he scribbled on was concealed behind the stack of unused. He wrote in single sentences, and being far taller than the accountant, he could easily see what Johns read as well. "Last month, we missed a return window for the old CP-7s. This... Week, we almost let the date for Clear Code registration slip by, if I hadn't found it cleaning house." Johns tried to ignore the pauses - and a low hum suffixing the horse's speech - while he read on with concern. "Oh God, the first one alone is an easy three thousand..." "... And the second, twenty-five large, in fines. A full year's pay for the receptionists, nearly down th-the tubes..." Between the breaks, he was flat-toned, while he finished writing on the card. Those oversized fingers hung behind the desk, while he leaned forward. To the buck, it would appear that he was stern and apprehensive; when in fact it was engineered tactic. The card stayed in his fingers, while they slipped behind the desk; and quietly, with no move apparent to the buck, it was released by the seat of his pants. Dropping a card without sound was a cakewalk; especially compared to what the aardvark was forced to do in silence. He alone knew the horse's fly was open, and wide enough to fit what grew out from it. David stifled a whisper, restricting it to his gingham-polo'ed chest; his blue slacks fitted knees stressed by the floor. They were kept by the horse's, to either side; and with eyes wide behind his glasses, he tried to think more of them than the greater ache in his lips. Torval's hands were sized like a pro athlete's; his cloven hoofs even moreso, in special-made Dockers. But to know what David did, with his face up to that zipper, and inch-after-fat-inch burying his throat, neither did this literal-horsecock justice. He suffered the task he'd agreed to; held speechless, sliding his lips down its grey-and-pink speckled length. The girth tested them; a mushroom'ed head punished everything from tongue to uvula, firm but pliable enough to bend and curve with ease down his foodpipe. Mist welled in his eyes, and the left held a tear; the horse couldn't wince any less than him, every time he pushed forward to suck a full ten inches. And he could look through the base of his lenses, still seeing five more, taunting him from through the parted fly. The horse's suit creased, his body scrunching up a short moment. This the buck fortunately missed, his blood just a tiny bit chilled by the exposure of negligence. "... I don't think we can even recoup the CP-7s' loss. With nine weeks to the end of annual reporting..." "... And we... Coast into next year, giving HQ the redass." Torval's head dipped; he hastily recovered. "I meant every word. This lays on all our shoulders, I'm as well-blamed as you or... Anyone here. But I see you positioned to, if not act, then monitooorrr..." The buck's head shot up. "Sir, I know you're under pressure, but if you'll pardon me that really sounds dire-" "-Indigestion, Johns. I've had it before... It's never banned itself..." The card had fallen at aardvark's cheek. By luck, it sat up on the horse's leg, and faced David in a way that facilitated reading. His eyes struggled through the blur of watering, but managed every word: Choke it down, featherweight. David's feet twitched; he tensed up at how his slacks restricted growing wood. His eyes set half-closed; gathering strength, refusing his throat to gag as he pitched neck forward. The horse likewise went stiff, with black pinstripes wrinkling around David's ears. The heat from within them soothed his face, a welcome reprieve for him to force three more inches down his tongue. He wriggled his nose; the smell was just as pungeant as the taste was bitter. It was puzzling, from a man in such professional capacity. Unless - David thought, with his member sending pain on every pulse - he wasn't the first that day to 'interview'. The horse had everything common of rumour; endowment even longer than his feet, thick and slick with David's spit. Its mushroom was sublime; a flared circle that mocked any attempt to take it easily. It had David's cock turgid to know something this gigantic lay inside him, compelling him to serve and serve well. His breath flew quick and shallow, noiseless above the stallion's crotch; he'd found a thought to make himself even harder. If he did the job to satisfaction - however long and deep the horse intended him - he'd be in position to have this come often. He pitched further in between those legs; growing fond of the gamy scent, as the fourteenth inch pressed in; buried far into virgin depths of his gullet. He found the will to retreat, and retake, bobbing on the boss, enjoying the groans while he sucked and teased that monster. Uniquay had a stable of trusting empoyees, by his own design; Johns showed fretting, but accepted the excuse for rasping moans. "I'll take your word... Now as far as the CP-7s, I think there might be an open way to mitigate. It's not expressly legal, but..." He looked to the side and smirked. "...Hell, it's about as up-and-up as a balloon filled with lead." Torval disapproved; much as could show beyond his breathy secret. But he'd been intrigued. "I'm listening, Johns. Tread carefully, with my attention..." "It's simple, really." Johns held up an open hand, and touched its index finger with that of his other hand. "The CP's are nearly twinned in hardware to the M-3 Driveboots. No one non-tech-savvy could ever tell the difference. So we call Risk Management," He touched every other finger in turn, listing steps. "Fabricate a chemical spill, have them take the M-38's we never use, and write them off as CP's. The green sheets will show us rid of them, a full paper trail. And since they're current-gen specs, we'll then unload them on a... Well, a few friends of mine." He rolled eyes up and sideward, as if suddenly wise to what he'd just said. Torval's left brow peaked; along with a grunt and lightly-swayed legs. "Alright, then how do we account... Fff-ooor the M-3's gone missing? And I'm not sure I'd even wa-ant... To nose around in... Your 'friends'..." David had the fifteenth inch fat and throbbing in his lips. He clamped down like a vacuum; the best he could do to handle something that immense, but it was more than good enough. Torval's thighs pressed into his ears; a light squeeze, the way he pushed tongue and gums around the horse's lower inches. David knew, with vision dark by the suit against his spectacles, he sent pleasure to every corner of that tall, stout body. He expected he'd have that white collar damp with carnal sweat, and to see how a true horse could hide his climax. He expected this, not hearing how the Clydesdale still wrote. With attention to the buck, putting on a show of total focus, he finished another card. The drop was just as perfect as before; David saw, and finally accepted this was talent from practice, while he scanned the new command: Boys like you play with balls. Get them out and have at it. Right away, it puzzled the aardvark. Zippers only went down so far, and with the horse seated upright, pushing anything more through a space that held his monster cock was insane. But his mind didn't fail him; knowing the man above him had a tailored suit, and so anything therein he could request of the maker. Keeping suction, he pushed back on that gigantic member, feeling legs tighten around him. His head swung slight to the side, holding horse cock to his left while looking down its right. Sure enough, it was just how he'd imagine; an extended fly, going down past where the taint would lay in standing posture. Slowly, carefully, he reached up by the horse's inner thigh, and took the tab in thumb-and-finger. The suit was well-made, if nothing else; the zipper slid down smooth as silk, and in two seconds he stared on a sight so grand, so stately it had his imprisoned cock aching even more. "Well sir, as for dumping the M-3's, I... Er..." The buck stuttered, leaning forehead into his desk-propped hand. "Wow, well that won't work. I guess it's more half-baked than I'd thought..." "Agree-eed. But we're not in-deep yet, I'm... Sure it just calls for time and... Aaa-aa-and critical thinking..." Hard as it was to weather David's suction, it was worse to try and take the new play stonefaced. He'd underestimated himself; knowing how it felt to have those grapefruit-sized globes take care of, he'd still somehow forgot until the moment David reached through his fly. The small grey hand gripped them, tugging soft and careful, to get them spilled out of the fabric. How David reacted, challenged his own attempt for silence; the sack was half as big as his head, which dived back down to secure the horse's rifle, while the fingers of his right hand rolled the heavy sack. It coaxed a groan, a wanton shiver, which he quickly squelched down; praying to whomever claimed heaven that he hadn't been loud. But nothing came of it... At least beyond the massive nuts twitching, while Torval put on his best face of plainness. So much harder than description paints; harder than the fifteen shoved down David's pipe, while he worked his digits through skin separating horse's jizzwells. Johns worked through the problem, but never blinked out of concern. With his boss's evident unrest, and that seeming only to grow, he scowled. "Sir, I'm serious, you need attention. If you don't let me call someone, or at least get some antacids-" Inside, Torval sighed with relief to hear the suggestion. "-You're right, Johns. There's a... Bottle in here, I couldn't find it earlier, what with moving all this shit the other day. I didn't check by the file cabinets..." He cast a look behind Johns, to his left by some polished metal drawers. "Good, I'll try and locate them." The buck stood out of his chair and went thusly. "I can't sit by with you like this." He was quick on his feet, and before two breaths he'd grabbed a fistful of papers on the cabinettop. Torval watched with growing smirk; now that Johns faced away, hiding the attention was a breeze. "Check behind... The OSHA folder, I might've set it there..." Johns complied, finding nothing but still tuned fully to a search. No idea that Torval now peeked down into his lap; or raised a hand to shove one young scalp over him. Knowing the buck was fixed elsewhere, he indulged himself to tilt up his head; eyes closed, seeing dimly the off-blue fluorescent lights while heaven straddled his loins. He knew to keep this short, so following a few selfish moments he looked level again, slightly before Johns looked his way. "Nothing here. Did you also move around your desk drawers?" Torval's collar took a tiny mist of sweat. "Y-yes, they were the first place I checked this morning. No luck." The answer, Johns naturally accepted; stopping any chance that he'd step over, and blow wide their cover. So by Torval - or seated by his knees - someone else relaxed, and set hard to work. His lips were in fast cruise, up and down a dick so huge it felt heavy inside him. Below, the sack tumbled in his hand, soft and smooth. Perhaps the sheer size was to blame; or maybe what he felt was his own racing heartbeat. But he felt a pulse in that bag, no different than the strong, hard throb in Torval's weapon. David's knees burned, so ground into the carpet and swinging in abandon. Those balls wouldn't hold a mere mouthful; not sized like they were, and not to be as sensitive as Torval implied them. Once the aardvark could usher that peak, bring horsecock to shoot them dry, he knew he'd have some cleaning to do. Of those thick, hulking inches, and of himself... However much he couldn't hope to gulp in time. And what Torval heard next, couldn't have been better. "Well I may have some left back from Cinco De Mayo," Johns stated, heading for the door. "They were in the breakroom, just need to comb through the fridge." "I... Would owe you, heartily." The Clydesdale smiled, hoping for all hell it looked more casual than it felt. Johns turned the knob, and looked back to elaborate. "I know it sounds odd, but Dr. Oz said the ingredients act faster when they enter you chilled-" "-THANK YOU, Johns." Torval boomed, his countenance tight and stern. "I'm grateful." The buck's eyes widened. "Y-yessiri'llbeback-" He trembled, sprinting outside. The door's glass rattled behind him. At last, freedom was at hand. Torval's chest emptied, his stomach drawn in. One long, deep moan, while his face centered on the desk, dipped down for the pure control David held. Grey chin was moving and moistened; he swallowed mouthfuls of pre, each time the horse's monster drew back from throat. Otherwise, it all leaked straight to David's stomach, while he worked every throbbing millimeter. To know how he was filled, the meal he could make of that stallion's natural lube alone, it was ironic to think of Torval's excuse. But no chuckles were had; neither from the horse, groaning out so deep he nearly brayed through his teeth, nor from David's busy jaw. He worked it hard, fast, up to the mushroom-tip, then downed it so deep his nose pressed into horse's crotchskin. The bitter smell swirled with bitter taste; pre leaked down from David's lip, and dripped to coat his crinkling gingham. He knew he was in the zone; he knew that tall, hung horse was getting there, and it might only be a matter of moments. Torval moaned out, wavering like the cusp of a neigh. David had the job well in hand; he felt pressure on his ears, squeezed by stout thighs; the horse's sack weighed down his hand, giving its quake; everything above his chest was warmed by Torval's climbing body heat. Throbbing escalated, broadcast from his tongue down the base of his gullet, every inch of horsemeat prime and reaching for peak. In the back of David's mind, it was quicker than he'd want. After all this time to 'break in' his maw for something so enormous, the time in-situ was brief. Still, such was the intent; if a busy man like this was to shed some carnal tension. The voice rang in David's ear; at last speaking free of business. "You're... On the doorstep... Harder, boy... Want it worth the risk..." It renewed the aardvark; redoubled his speed, choking down all that cock while blocking out the gag. Pre's sheen had him slick from nose to chest, leaking more and more as he approached the goal. Torval's grunts were penetrating, filling the air, nearly having David's teeth in a rattle. They stood the lone part of his mouth that wouldn't touch its burglar; so hard for him to keep them back from that monster, even harder than ignoring his throat's choked turmoil. He wasn't made to take a dick this staggeringly huge; but was made to take it happily, all in the name of possibility. There's only so many slots at any workplace, he discerned, before the thought slipped back in his mind. Something else was oncoming; while he worked those heavy globes, they seemed to contract; Torval was hard as hell inside him, and the horse's suitjacket stretched taut, both shoulders lifting high and back. A long equine face shot to the sky; or rather the pale stucco ceiling, barely calm enough to reign his rising scream of climax. It was true force over him, with chest flung to gasps, fingers bending, hooves bashing the carpet in helpless reflex stomps. And in whines, gagging, David knelt down before it; by the line of fire, ushering it on. The beginning was a shockwave. David's eyes sat between wide-open and a wince, strained like Torval's body; rearing back in his chair, all-but kicking out while he was drained of the first rope. It hit David's gut like a rock; cups worth of hot, sticky cream, almost nauseating if not for the aardvark's raw focus and resolve. The second was no slower, but reception was tempered, with David dipping by his knees to steady the impact. So many fat inches down his piehole, teasing his gag with the instant of mass their throbs incited. He would've howled in pleasure, had they not stifled him; would've beat the floor in with his feet, like Torval, had they not been behind him in submission. The fourth load had him feeling 'full'... By the sixth, he remembered his last Thanksgiving. Those plump testes hid a gallon-strong haul; now won by his oral fixation, and dumped to his tinier body. His muffled hums now brayed more than joy; it was pain, loading down his stomach, and a tear streamed beneath his left glasses lens. But to dwell on its truth; the heat-packing horse was one in every way, right down to the juice that aged in his balls like fine champagne. David's stubby tail flicked wildly, revived in lust, throating that huge rod faster. The horse sat low and back, legs wide, a field of sweat beneath his silk undershirt. His shouts, became moans, became whines; extended out until they stretched to one long, high aria, fluttering as the breath that carried them. He found the end of his peak, milking out the last mouthful far deeper than the tongue-whipping trap that had stolen it; but David wasn't minded to quit. The maw-uke rode his own rhythm more than ever; bobbing a full foot's length back and forward, worshipping so hard the gag took a backseat to aches from the stiff lump in his khakis. It would go untended; all work went into taking the horse for every droplet he had. David's lips drew back, and shunted forth; his throat was on cruise control, and making up for time lost in getting used to the stallion. Torval's tie dangled like a pendulum; its wearer took the brunt of afterglow, still sucked and squeezed below. "You... Really want this job... Don't you?" The fact that horse could keep strength in his voice even now, only more melted the aardvark; leaning off the giant shaft, just far enough to speak and suspend its weight from his lip. "I'd be de besht gopher you could asshk." Uniquay lisped a chuckle, for David's 'impediment', the fault of talking around his own size, but also for how he knew to respond. "I wouldn't have you as a gopher..." He was brought to pause; David had dived back down, taking all those speckled inches in half a breath. "Not when I can see I have a squirrel..." David laughed through his fellating, upping pace, gliding tongue until the horse spewed broken cries above. But then a shock hit the aardvark; the side of his grey face took a slap, and with the end of Torval's moans and his smacking slurps, he heard the creak of the door. Johns had returned, the spoils of search in-hand, a round plastic bottle. "Found it! They were way in the back... Pinned by old pickles and a moldy slice of cake." Torval's face scrunched into a scowl, while the buck shook the bottle. 'Perfect,' the horse mused, 'Now I do need them.' David sat low underneath him; trying not to make the same face, while still impaled by his meal-ticket. Johns walked up, removing the lid to extract two chalky pills. "This might not be the time, but I wish the kid had made it today." Torval nodded, fully hiding his mirth. "You and I, to be certain. He's showed me - would've shown me some desirable qualifications, I'm sure." A graceful save. The buck smiled wide, handing the chewables forward. "Well that too, but to be honest..." He watched the pinstriped hoss humour him and down the chalky meds. "... It puts a spring in your step, when we have new blood around here. Spills over to those around you, as well." This time, the fight was hard to conceal a reaction. But professional, experienced, Uniquay succeeded. He tasted cherry; and felt the tingle below, with David tasting elsewise. "Of course, Johns. It's all part of the office relationship." ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ David looked up; eyes followed the ceiling fan, laboriously, through their bloodshot hue. "I started last Monday. And if you, like, wanna know the truth..." He reached up to grab his chin, working it side-to-side. "...My jaw's still kinda stiff." He had Josh on the edge of his seat; and all three on a separate edge. Will coughed, rattling his throat; a grey cloud blew in random directions, streaming over Jerr's head. It joined a now-solid haze of white, hanging as fog above them. The ape held a blunt roach, spent so low it was hot on his fingers, held tight between two wide knuckles. Jerr's mouth was open, his monkey teeth exposed; dick hard as could be, just like Will's, on Will's, while he slid the slowest stroke possible. One could still see a grin through his fixed stare to David; Near wide as the gorilla's, who lay low, enjoying the high and Jerr's hand. None of the four had less than six deep tokes.... None had less than a strict throb, hot in every man's weapon. They were floating, edging, loving every second; and as any could attest, it was only the beginning.

To be continued...