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"...to hell with his fucking map!"

I couldn't take it anymore; in a fit of rage of frustration, I crumpled up the worthless sheet of paper and threw it off into the pond as hard as I could. Clearly not my best decision, but it paled in comparison to the first one I'd made before it. Just three days ago, I had chosen to go on a four day tour of the rainforest jungles of South America, traveling by a well-protected boat through the Amazon River. The tour was comprised of seven members, one of which was the leader, but we all carried backpacks filled with equipment that would prove useful for long-term survival if disaster struck.

Day one had been uneventful, at least when it came to major disaster, with only a single sighting of an alligator hanging around the boat. A few of us braver furs peered over the edge and snapped a few pictures while the rest just took in the sights of the shoreline and talked. We all got along quite well, finding plenty in common to talk about such as other adventurous trips we'd taken and also the craziest rivers we'd kayaked through. A pair of canines, one a husky and the other a coyote caught my attention more and for hours we conversed about our lives and interests.

By the time nightfall began closing in on us and we parked the boat to make our small campground and set up the tents, I was more than ready to eat and then sleep. There were four tents overall, as each of us paired up with another to pass out in. Not bothering to step in between the previous friendship Mike and Travis had going, them being the two dogs from earlier, I crashed in with a raccoon who looked as equally beat as me. Within a few minutes of closing my green eyes, this tiger stepped into the expanse of the dream world and passed out.

The next day was promising enough, the sun quickly rising to join us as we finished packing everything onto the boat. Setting out again, we spent the next few hours listening to the guide give a history lesson over the ancient tribes that used to call this place home. Interspersed with it were a few energetic cries as one of us would spot a cool animal or plant and then the mare would interrupt here history lecture to talk about the animal or plant and what it provided the rainforest and how useful it was to the survival of everything else that lived here.

One thing I could surely tell you was that she knew her shit. There wasn't a moment where the horse lost confidence in what she was saying, keeping our attention held firm as we coasted along the river. That was, until the coasting ended, the skies darkened in minutes and rain began pouring on all of us and while I didn't mind swimming, my feline mind detested being rained on. Scowling, I turned to step back to the awning to provide some cover, when at the same time the boat lurched violently. I heard a cry and then was slammed into by someone, propelling me over the railing and into the now rushing river.

I hit the water with a loud smack, dazed for a few seconds before my head shot above the surface of the river. Already, I could see a few fingers frantically being pointed at me as I gasped for air and was sucked under again. My shin struck a rock and I cried out under water, but managed to work myself up again. The lifejacket I wore underneath my backpack was providing no help and I knew why. Mike had been thrown into me when the boat suddenly moved, and the husky's knife had embedded itself into the lining of the fabric. I had gained a free knife for the time being, but at the cost of what was supposed to be a life saving device.

Finally given a few seconds to orientate myself after resurfacing a third time, I saw the boat and more importantly the mare leader holding a red and white striped rubber tube, readying herself to throw it me so they could reel me in. Then I heard a loud yell, one of utter fear, and my blood froze. Tammy, our leader looked back over her shoulder just before a crack as loud as a nearby thunderclap ripped through my ears. The boat jarred, throwing everyone backward out of my view, and then it splintered, having been crushed against a large boulder that would have been seen earlier had it not been for my overboard miscue.

Quite quickly I saw other faces in the water, bobbing around as they fought for control, but when I saw what they were sucked into, I let out a scream of terror and began struggling to reach the shores. Frothing rapid like streams of water no more than a few hundred yards away sucked everyone else in, churning and spinning them around before spitting them out. My weighted strokes to the side did little as I was pulled under again; the shore could have been a mile away for all the good it did me.

By the time I finally managed another breath, I was in the spewing water and for all I knew, I was alone. There were no sign of anyone else; all I could see were the rocks and foam around me. All I could hear were the rushing waves and ripples and my own screams of terror and then pain as I hurtled into a boulder. Agony flashed through my back, and the whiplash felt like it nearly broke my neck. Seconds later, I felt my head smack against another one, the world blacked out and I felt myself floating along until all my senses died as I was sure I had as well.

Dawn came with a throbbing headache, an equally pained back, but also the knowledge that I was alive. My left ankle felt strained, but somehow I was on the shoreline, the sound of the rapids a bit behind me. The sun was rising and the sounds of the rainforest would have comforted me if it weren't for the fact that I knew I was completely alone. There was no sign of anyone else from the boat, but a couple areas on the other side of the river and a few on my side showed the wooden carnage.

Checking around myself, I found my shirt tattered and torn, exposing a few small cuts on my chest and my pants in far worse shape, though my legs seemed okay. I panicked when I tried to stand and realized the comforting weight of my backpack was missing, but settled down again when I caught sight of it resting in the water, one of the straps wrapped around a thick tree branch. Gingerly shuffling down, I approached it and pulled it off, opening it to check the contents: two large bags of beef jerky, a canteen of water, a compass, some string and a map.

It was only half of what had been in it originally, but I could manage this. I had only been on the boat for a day, and had traveled at most twenty miles, and all of it had been on the second largest river in the world. As long as I just trekked back upstream, I would be able to find our original starting point, and hopefully radio in some help. Set on this decision, I followed my gaze upstream and groaned in disbelief. How had I survived a fall like that?

No more than a few hundred yards upstream was a large waterfall, possibly close to sixty feet upward from the initial drop off. My tiger eyes scanned for any place to go around it, but the visibility was very minimal. The heat was already beginning to increase, along with the humidity, and I figured my shirt wasn't going to do much as a garment. I was a bit hesitant to drop the pants too, but they were completely wrecked. My balls itched from the hours of dampness, but I had smartly worn trunks underneath my jeans, rather than briefs, so they weren't trapped.

Stepping into the calmer area of the river, I stripped down naked and used the flowing water and some rubbing paw pads to soothe the irritation, replacing dampness with a feeling of freshness. The trunks had dried down a modest bit, though with such strong humidity, I knew they would never dry out completely. Slipping them back on, I strapped on my backpack, and turned in the direction of the waterfall. There would be the best place to attain the cleanest water available.

The ground was hard to walk through and tickled my bare feet, my pads unused to the feeling of walking without shoes or socks. I kept my attention on where I was walking and that's why I noticed a glint of sun reflecting off of something metallic. Getting a closer view, I recognized a tiny shred of orange from what had been my vest, stabbed by a four inch blade that had luckily not gone into my flesh. Smiling at what little luck I had, I removed the jacket from the knife and picked up my newfound weapon. Holding it in my paw, I used the string to make a small belt for it through my trunks, tying it there before moving forward.

I reached the base of the waterfall with little trouble, drinking and refilling my canteen twice before replacing it in my backpack. Pulling out my compass and map, I tried to find a mention of a waterfall on it, and after using the first night's stop as a marking point, quickly recognized where I was.

"Wow, three miles? I drifted through three miles of water?"

The idea felt insane to me, but the map marked it as true. Just about twenty-five miles away would be the camp at which we had all started. I hoped for the best for all of my companions, but it had been over a day since the crash and there was little I could do for them now besides send a rescue team out in search for them. To get there, I would have to survive the trip, and in this heat and environment, going even five miles in a day sounded like a hard to reach goal.

Turning to the right, with a smile of confidence on my feline face, I began following the side of the cliff. As I left the river behind me, I couldn't help but notice the lack of sunlight. The dirt floor was as dark now as would be expected at dusk, but my eyes adjusted well to low-light situations and I soon found that I got the hang of it. The air was heavy and thick and soon I found myself panting and sweating profusely. My canteen was large, but I was starting to work through it quickly, draining nearly a quarter of it before I realized the massive fallacy in front of me.

I had zoned out and now all that was within my eyesight was grass and trees and plants. I had begun traveling southeast, but when I looked at my drooping paw, it read northeast. With no knowledge on how far my legs had taken me and how long I had been traveling in the wrong direction, my tiger mind told me I was lost and it told me I was tired. I knew that wasn't the case entirely; if I just traveled west, I would reach the river again. Coming to the conclusion that I was not really lost I chose to sleep. However, with little knowledge on how to quickly make camp, I laid down, using my backpack as a pillow, falling asleep almost instantly.

After eating some of my beef jerky, I used my knife to sharpen a long, but sturdy branch, creating a spear to go along with my knife. There were the sounds of water coming from not so long of a distance away and I hoped to spear some fish to help the jerky last longer. I was as quiet as possible, but by the time I arrived, my presence was obvious. I welcomed that for it meant there wouldn't be other animals there to bother me.

I placed my backpack down on a ledge on top of my map, stripped out of my trunks to keep them dry, and waded into the water. It was murky and deep and I felt worried enough to tie some string to a rock and carry it with me to help pull myself out if something went wrong. The fishing went decently well, as I nabbed three in an hour's time, eating them as I fished further until I felt my stomach rumble in satisfaction.

Turning around, I tugged on the string to help start exiting, but it snapped. The whiplash of it was enough to knock my backpack into the water and I watched in paralyzed horror as it rapidly sunk into the dark depths. Frantically swimming over to where I'd seen it drop, I swam downwards, sweeping my paws back and forth to try to find the bottom, but no matter how hard I tried, my paws never touched the ground before I had to swim up to gasp in a new breath.

Forlornly accepting defeat, I stared at the few resources I had left. Thankfully, I had strapped my canteen to my makeshift string belt along with my knife and my spear still lay on the ground. The map was safe, but beyond that, all my food and the rest of the string were lost. Sullenly trudging out of the lake, I shook out my paws and picked up the map, hoping to sort myself out. I had followed the sound of the water for nearly a mile, but the trees and vegetation looked so similar as to be devilishly disorientating. The map was useless and I was completely, without question, lost. Even if I made it back to where I had been, I wouldn't even know it now.

"...to hell with this fucking map!"

I couldn't take it anymore; in a fit of rage of frustration, I crumpled up the worthless sheet of paper and threw it off into the pond as hard as I could. There was no turning back now; I was a denizen of the rainforest whether I wanted to be or not. Shaking out my striped fur, I accepted it as fact, resolving to do all I could to survive. First thing I would need to do would be to stake out some territory. I would go as far as I could before the faintest sound of the pond faded and circle around it.

It would take weeks to grow accustomed to the small details, so for now this would be my roaming and hunting ground. Finding a small clearing a few hundred feet from the water, I set up permanent camp there, gathering wood to make a fire and a large pile of dirt to throw on it if it started burning out of control. Catching a few more fish before nightfall, I cooked one over the fire, taking a little comfort in the more familiar taste.

I didn't sleep so well that night, my ears catching too many noises for my liking, and my imagination trying to convince me that there were spiders and snakes just feet from me, waiting for me to fall asleep before attacking. I did manage a few hours, but with dawn came the howling of monkeys and chirping of birds and the idea of sleep was replaced with the obvious need to set up a small shelter.

Thankfully, there were plenty of loose branches and sticks to form a base with and I cut vines with my knife to use as the connective tissue, the leaves for the cover from the rain. Within two weeks' time, I had a small hut next to a rather safe fire pit. The hut was large enough to store water brought in from rainstorms and I made a small rack to hold my fish. My feline reflexes helped in catching them, but I knew I would eliminate my food supply faster than it could replenish itself if I used it as my sole means of intake.

Seemingly turning inwards towards instincts long subdued, I found hunting natural and soon not only fish, but small rodents and even some birds fell prey to my knife and spear. My body began shedding pounds it didn't need, replacing the lost weight with lean muscle. However, while my body increased in both health and strength, I could feel my mind deteriorating, falling into a sense of hopelessness and absolute loneliness. No matter how much I tried to ignore it, I desperately missed having someone to talk to and found myself substituting my knife as a friend, sometimes talking to it for hours about how I wished I could go back home.

There was no luck to be found in that. No search party had come by and there was no sign of any other furs crossing my path, except for the occasional feral one that most often was added to my food stock. I often prayed to the sky that I might find even a small squirrel to befriend, but they all ran away from the paws that were an extension to my depressed soul and ever more disturbing mind. Conversations with my knife soon grew into half day events, and I caught myself speaking incoherently at times, noticing that hours had gone by and I had no recollection of them at all.

Raw meat began to taste like cooked meat, both of them bland but filling and I disposed of my trunks, preferring to live naked as all the other animals did. I wondered if I would come off as anything other than primitive and completely unintelligent if someone found me now. Words became harder to say as they lost their meaning to me; they served no purpose here and I never received a reply. Within two months, I no longer spoke, not because I didn't want to, but because I couldn't form anything meaningful. I could feel myself slowly degenerating into a beast that lived only to continue to survive, but the more I tried to fight it, the more I failed.

Days and nights passed by like a listless and uneventful dream, the most vivid parts being when I hunted my prey, my senses heightened enough to create a memory. Drinking, eating, sleeping, hunting; all of it became a routine born of necessity, each day streaking along. I no longer counted the months, for I couldn't even count the seasons. Each day was like the last, the only mystery being whether it would rain or not. Maybe a few months had passed since that fateful day, or possibly a few years.

It wasn't until one night when I heard an unusual noise near my hut that awareness returned to me. My ears picked up the sound of a hushed breath, very light footsteps approaching my door. The thought of rescue blissfully rushed over my addled mind, but my claws and fangs prepared for the worst, a small snarl alerting whoever it was to the fact I knew they were out there. The breathing stopped, but a moment later, my door slowly opened, and two piercing, blue eyes met mine as a lithe and very naked male jaguar blinked at me in acknowledgement of my existence.

"Skekta menooshen? Dar kita stet shemona."

I had no idea what he said to me, but it was at long last, some sort of verbal communication. Letting out a near sobbing sigh of relief, I did my best to answer back, though it was so choppy that I hoped he hadn't a clue what it meant.

"Hello. Name Julian. Yours?"

I pointed to myself with a little emphasis as I said my name before turning the finger towards the jaguar, hoping he'd catch on.

"Ska, Lulion?"

The smaller male seemed to squint as he tried to sound out my name, fumbling over the beginning letter before replacing it with something simpler. He stared at me for a few seconds before nodding to himself. My name was Lulion now; I only hoped it didn't mean something terrible in his language. Watching carefully, I saw him point to himself in return.

"Mish, Sketashon. Ska, Lulion."

He finished pointing back at me and the smallest of language barriers was broken. We now knew each other's names and I knew my first couple words in this foreign tongue. Now would come the harder part, as we both worked to connect what few words we had into some sort of friendship. Sket, as I began calling him, would point to the items in my hut and say what their name was in his language before turning to me to hear my name for them. Both of us would repeat back to each other what the other had said until we could say it with confidence. By the time we were out of things to mention, I was exhausted and could hardly keep my eyes open.

"Skaht meeshan, Lulion?"

His obvious body movement of relaxed sleep gave me a hint at what he meant and so I nodded. Sket chuckled quietly, the jaguar taking the opportunity to tell me two new words.

"Freet," Sket nodded his head.

"Noma," Sket shook his head. "Skaht meeshan?

"Freet," I answered back.

The jaguar, and hopefully my new friend, nodded in acceptance before using two fingers to point at me and at himself. He brought those two fingers together before pointing them at my small bed of leaves.

"Tes meeshano sontast?"

I wondered at what he meant for a few seconds, before coming to the conclusion that he was asking if I would like to sleep with him. The word 'meeshan' must have something to do with sleep, I thought to myself, but it was quickly replaced by the elation I felt from the prospect of sleeping with another soul.

"Yes."

Motioning with my paw in invitation, I silently thanked whoever was out there for finally rescuing me. It wasn't the type of party I had been expecting, but it was just as wonderful. Sketashon didn't hesitate, rather instead murring and smiling as he first stretched out and then laid down next to me, pressing his nose up against my chest and breathing deeply. I realized he was breathing in my scent and I took the chance to do the same, pressing my muzzle to his shoulder.

Exotic would have been an understatement if I used it to describe the flavor of smells he produced. Every smell of the jungle rushed into my nostrils, each one distinguishable and strong. The aroma of blood and the feeling of power and agility mixed in with the already glorious scent. It was also followed by the sense of calm reassurance that I finally had someone to talk to, even if understanding each other would be extremely difficult, at least someone was there.

Sket pulled back and brushed a paw over my muzzle, caressing one of my ears as he smiled at me. I couldn't help but shiver as the intimate touch felt so blindingly wonderful. The jaguar's paw brushed under my chin before he pulled back and rotated around, resting his head on my shoulder. Nervously, I stretched one of my arms out over his side and slid it over his chest, gasping as my pads brushed over a metallic ring. Curiously, I tested the other nub of flesh and found that Sket's other nipple was pierced as well, each one adorned with some sort of ring.

My friend seemed to enjoy the touch, hissing a bit before pressing his back into my chest. I would have gone further, but the clutches of sleep held me tighter than even a growing libido could and my tiger paws simply wrapped around Sket's smaller frame and pulled him into my grasp. The jaguar made no sign of disappointment, only licking my arm once before he too closed his eyes and fell asleep in my embrace.

Dawn broke over the tree-covered sky, and my ears flickered as the usual sounds of the jungle drew me back into reality. This time, though, it was a far brighter world I woke to. A warm, beautiful jaguar snoozed quietly in my arms, his long tail softly wrapped around one of my ankles. In the light, I was able to get a good look at him. The look nearly convinced me that he had to be part of a tribe all by itself, not to mention the language he spoke.

Two black rings pierced his nipples, and each ear had a few studs through the upper region. He wore a necklace made of bones and his soft chest fur was broken by another stud just above his belly button. I was curious to see if he had anything more in his more sensitive regions, but I relented as it wouldn't be right to molest him while he slept. With him in my grasp, though, I hardly wanted to move either, and so I simply laid there and relished the rhythmic beats of his heart and soft hushes of his breath.

It was a few blissful hours later that I felt him shift in my embrace, his lithe body stretching as he again pushed into me. His tail unraveled from my leg as he rotated around again. I was graced by his smile once more before his paws rested on my waist, the claws just dancing over my rump, sometimes dancing over to give my tail a playful squeeze. The touches were enough to reawaken my dormant libido and I groaned at the contact. I could already feel my sheath swelling, my member coming to life as blood flooded it for the first time in countless months.

I searched for his maw and Sket did nothing to hide it, murring joyfully as our lips met each other for the first time. If I had been in a normal state, I would have thought it odd and unnatural to be so intimate with another male, but right now my mind was content with any kind of contact and frankly, my shaft didn't seem to give a shit about the jaguar's gender.

Moaning deeply into the kiss, my paws rubbed and stroked over Sketashon's back, taking time to tickle his spine as I descended, stroking his tail as he was doing so to mine. Suddenly, I felt the jaguar's tongue flick over my teeth, grazing my fangs and brushing my incisors before darting up and down to roughly scrub over my gums. Each touch and movement sent a rush of sensation over me, the tip of my red cock emerging from my furred sheath, already beginning to form a drop of precum at its slit.

Sket grasped at me as I worked his tail, a single claw dipping to brush over his tailhole occasionally while my other paw massaged his neck. His tongue worked tingling magic over my raw gums, helping to clean off months' worth of plaque from each tooth. Finally, I opened my mouth, spread my teeth and sent my own tongue out to meet his, catching it as it dove forward. My jaguar was as hot and needy as I was. One of his paws was stroking over my still growing length while one of mine firmly rubbed over his scrotum, passing over and stimulating yet another pair of studs poking through each side of the firm muscle.

I could feel him throb with my fingers and I matched his with my own. Our kiss was heated and passionate, Sket's tongue dancing with my own as he stroked over the insides of my cheeks and the underside of my teeth. Letting him have all he wanted, I simply focused on his groin, alternating between his balls and sheath while my other paw massaged the muscles surrounding his anus. Grunting in appreciation, Sket broke the kiss, a few strings of saliva connecting our gasping maws and soaked lips.

Rolling me over onto my back, the gold and black mottled furred feline scooted back until he lay comfortably between my legs, his head resting just underneath my ball sac. I shuddered a bit as his tongue licked up my scrotum, passing under my balls before he gently took them into his maw. His warm saliva coated my sac, pleasure burning through my balls as they received the best grooming in weeks, his tongue washing over the short fur, no doubt scrubbing off layers of dead skin and musk.

Sketashon worked his tongue out of his maw, using it to rub just behind my balls, stimulating every part he could reach as I just laid there and moaned. My fingers and claws dug into my makeshift bed, releasing wave after wave of pent up stress as the jaguar below so deftly pleasured my furred orbs. My shaft was fully erect, throbbing at nine inches of red tigerhood, dribbling out a constant stream of clear fluids.

Finally, the jaguar released my drenched balls from his maw, his tongue swiping up to brush over my swollen sheath. He wrapped it around the entire base, squeezing softly and letting out a pleased groan as I spurted another stream of precum from my needy shaft. I felt Sket reposition himself, sliding his paws underneath my ass to grope and squeeze my rump cheeks. Lifting my head, I caught his blue eyes seconds before he grinned and then took half of my length inside his hot muzzle.

"Fuuuuhhck!"

I drooled as immense heat engrossed my sensitive staff, bolts of ecstasy pounding through me with every beat of my heart. My thick member oozed a constant supply of precum which Sket seemed all too happy to swallow. Bobbing up and down, I shuddered as he sank further and deeper with every pump of his rosette spotted head. His eyes shifted between mine and the hot treat inside his maw, finally stopping on mine as he took every remaining inch swiftly into his mouth and down his throat.

He stayed like that for what seemed like an eternity, simply watching me squirm and stutter thrust into him as I gasped in uncontrollable glory. I was so close, the tingling sensation in my sac telling me I was just a few more suckles away from release. Without warning, though, Sket pulled off my shaft, much to my voiced moans of displeasure, still smiling at me with bright eyes. Climbing back on top of me, he pressed his lips to mine, his legs and ass positioning themselves to hover his tailhole just above the tip of my shaft, pressing down ever so slightly as we made out.

Precum leaked out like a hose, easily lubricating my jaguar's entrance as he pushed down on it, increasing the pressure bit by bit until his sphincter finally gave in, the first couple inches of my cock slipping into him. Sket let out a lewd moan, clenching hard around the tip, eliciting a few quick pumps of my pre into his tunnel walls. My arms finally began to move again, reaching out to stroke over his back and then down to his thighs as he sat up to gain leverage, driving down again.

Sitting up with him, I pressed my lips around one of his nipples, my tongue grazing over the flesh while rolling over the ebony black ring, alternating between the two parts as I held him to me, one paw around his back, the other around the base of his tail as I encouraged him to take more of my cock into his ass. Fortunately, I didn't have to wait for long, the jaguar letting out a savage howl as he thrust downward, his balls smacking my groin in an authoritative way as we both voiced our pleasure to each other.

My paws drifted to his waist and clamped down on his hips, lurching forward to catch Sket off guard. He let out a surprised yelp as he fell backwards, but my paws were there to cradle his head and we landed gently before my lips again mashed into his. I stayed fully embedded in his passage for a while, simply relishing each clinching hug his ass gave to my member, but soon I couldn't hold back my need any longer. The jaguar's legs wrapped around my waist as he moaned, my already flaring barbs scrubbing over his flesh as I pulled out and then swiftly plunged back in.

Knowing I wasn't going to last long after so many months of build-up, I immediately increased my pace, pumping in and out the whole way in rapid, successive thrusts. Sket's length poked my belly, squirting out precum to match mine and I heard him hiss as a long throb raced through it. We were both close and we both knew what was coming. One of my paws dove down to pass over his pulsing length. I connected my thumb and a finger into a ring and wrapped it around the base of the jaguar's sheath, pumping up and down just below the flesh. My other simply stroked his ears as he moaned, pushing into my thrusts, urging me forward.

I was too close, too worked up, unable to keep my humping in any kind of rhythm, but I hardly needed to. With a shuddering moan, I drug myself out one final time, my barbs prickling Sketashon's tunnel the whole way. I hung there for a second before driving forward to the hilt. A few stutter thrusts later and a thick, pulsating heat grew from my sac, the tingling and ecstasy traveling up my urethra before a huge spurt blew into the jaguar's rump, followed by another and another. He let out a loud moan, but was cut short as my lips smashed into his own, our tongues entangling themselves in seconds as we bellowed our lust to each other.

Thick semen kept pumping out of my shaft, making it hard to think, but I managed to extend my thumb over the underside of Sket's shaft, beginning to rub it vigorously in hopes that he would join me in climax. It didn't take long. A mere five strokes later, I felt the signaling throb race through him a second before I felt his seed pulsing out between our chests and over my fingers.

We held onto each other desperately as we rode through our orgasms, each seed-spewing throb adding more sensation to the other, urging them to release even more. Sket groaned as my seed began to leak out his hole while the more direct shots pumped into his rectum, warming the deep regions of his ass. His own shaft pumped out large spurts to match mine, but soon, the glorious feeling faded. Both of us tapered off together, our clutching arms releasing their pressure as we began to simply purr unabatedly.

My cum oozed out of Sket's anus while his streamed over his waist and chest. We softly kissed for a few more minutes, enjoying the afterglow of our collective climax. Soon, though, my gorgeous jaguar rolled us over and began to stand up, releasing my shaft from his ass, sending bolts of subtle pleasure rolling over me until my tip popped out and my member fell tiredly onto my chest, still managing to dribble a few more drops of spunk out to stain my crotch.

Staring back at him curiously, he offered me a paw, which I used to help stand myself up, wasting no time in wrapping my arms around him and pulling his body into a hug. Sketashon smiled back at me, using a paw to gently bat my nose before again breaking away. Pulling out a bag from where he had left his meager supplies, he walked over to my rack of meat and fish and dumped my entire stock into it. I watched with interest, but also a feeling of confusion as the jaguar tied the bag down securely and then stood up. He must have seen the look on my face for he walked right up to me.

"Ska han mishano. Mish han skahano. Skaltem skamishkhan."

My eyes grew wide as he first pointed at me and then at him before doing so again, except he pointed at himself first. There was no mistaking what he surely had to mean once he brought his lips to mine again, the two of us sharing a gentle, loving kiss. He believed we were mates and what I had done this morning solidified that in his mind. At first, I was hesitant to accept that, and I knew Sket felt that with the way he tensed and pressed harder into the kiss. He wanted me, and as I reasoned with myself, I suddenly came to the realization that reluctance be damned. He wanted me and I wanted him.

The jaguar's ears flickered and he moaned as my paws returned the gesture of hugging back, the pads rubbing gently over his back. I let my eyes droop to slits as I eagerly pressed my maw into his, accepting and then embracing the relationship. After a few minutes, I pulled back, panting slightly, my libido rock solid yet again. I mirrored Sketashon's gesture from earlier, earning a gleeful grin back as I spoke his words in my language.

"You are mine. I am yours. We are mates."

With that, my paws slid to his rump, eliciting a long moan from the jaguar as I lifted him up, his legs twisting around my ankles as I positioned my cock just underneath his tail. With the cum of the first orgasm still dripping out of his ass and the muscles loosened from the my previous penetration, it made spearing him completely easy on both of us. Letting out a yowl of joy, I held his waist and began to piston in and out of him, my barbs racing over his prostate, his own shaft throbbing hard between our chests.

My teeth grazed over a nipple, and I locked my lips on it, kissing the flesh and teasing the metal that pierced through it, earning a constant stream of moans from my jaguar lover. I was in the throes of lustful need and I was determined to let my mate feel the same burning desire my tiger frame was being consumed with, each thrust stronger and more purposeful and even more savage than the last. Switching to the other nipple, I bit down on it, smiling as I heard Sket tense and yowl, clenching so hard on my bucking cock that I instantly felt the rush of heat pour through it again, racing up my pole and erupting into the jaguar's ass yet again.

With the thick seed from the first time having already filled much of the jaguar's passage, the thinner spunk streamed back down my shaft and then over my balls, drizzling onto the floor as I kept thrusting into him, urging as much seed as I could to claim Sket as my own. Breaking contact with his nipple, my lips sought his and I groaned deeply as he met mine, my tongue taking charge as he opened his maw, welcoming my advances with his own member as we danced yet again. I guided him back to my bed, lying his form down as I leaned over him, again breaking the kiss to catch my breath. Strings of saliva as thick as warm cheese on a pizza followed my exit, most of it falling back over Sketashon's maw, his eyes glimmering in contentment.

"Ska han mishano."

I repeated back to him in his own tongue, flexing my bone inside his tunnel. He let out a soft moan, and I felt his dick softly slap my groin. Looking down, I finally got my first view of his member, the snow white shaft as beautiful as the rest of him. Glistening with precum, it throbbed and begged for the stimulation it needed to achieve release. I leaned down to press my maw into his once more for a few seconds before sitting back up again, a paw softly wrapping around his shaft and gently squeezing it.

"Mish han skahano."

A howl escaped his lips as I leaned back, tilting his cock against my groin, beginning to rapidly stroke over his length. Precum dribbled out with each stroke, matched soon by long spurts and then I felt him tense his muscles as his seed raced up and squirted out of his pulsing member. I tilted my head back and just enjoyed the feeling of each spurt coating my chest, using his spunk to mark me as his just the same way mine had marked his rump. We were mates now.

"Skaltem skamishkhan."

My words in his language were gruff and felt choppy, but Sketashon hardly cared, instead only grinning back at me and hissing as the last few drops of his semen slid down his weary pole. We were tired and my jaguar lover made no protest when I slid my arms around his back, rolling him over until he lay on top of me, our tails wrapping around each other in companionship. My cock softly pulsed in his passage, but it grew no harder, both of us satisfied and worn out. Kissing him one final time, I massaged his sides with my crossed paws, trying to encourage him to sleep with me. Then, with a smile, I remembered what he had asked me the night before.

"Tes meeshano sontast?"

"Freet, vaksot mishi vaka sketato ska."

My puzzled expression caused him to chuckle a bit, but I watched as one of his claws drew a picture in the dirt. After drawing two stick feline figures, he pointed at us. Then, he drew many more of them in the sand. Circling the two of us, he drew arrows leading to the rest of them. Looking back at me, he purred excitedly, like a kitten with a bowl of milk. He wanted to take me back to his tribe to meet his family and friends, that much I understood. Nervousness clouded my mind, but I figured that it couldn't be that bad so long as I did it with Sket.