FSE

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formerly SoFurry search engine

Navigating the Labyrinth

Chapter One

By: Rufus Quintin

For: Vickfox

The electric buzz of an incoming message arrived far earlier than expected, arousing Victor from the spread of notes and textbooks splayed upon the desk, that thus far only performed a mediocre job of maintaining his attention. His paw snatched the round cornered rectangle and read upon its illumination the combination of words he wanted to see most.

"Just got done with class" stood in a blue box beneath the sender's name: Miles.

Victor's fingers typed "I'm in the library" into the screen, sending the line off to his friend.

"Omw" came the reply.

His gaze swept back to his book and tried to interpret the language of C++. It didn't take long for his eyes to fall away from the imprints of text and into the interstices. A quick jog of imagination left him uncomfortable. A paw swiftly conducted a pinch-and-roll maneuver below his belt, liberating himself from an entanglement of underwear. Victor looked around the catacombs as he came to call the library's basement level. A place discovered on accident last year while trying to get away from the chatter of the barely legal daughters of car dealership owners who apparently didn't understand the library's silence policy.

Since then he hadn't seen anyone down there. The Goethes and Schillers lining the shelves accumulated the dust of neglect ever since some hostile provost slashed the tenure tracks of the humanities. It was safe to assume that they would continue to go unused, so long as the interest in poetry and truth remained at its current level, which it certainly would on a Tuesday night in December. Perhaps it was all for the best. It gave Victor a quiet place to work, and a very private space for as long as the librarians remained blissfully unaware of the wasted real-estate. It would all be on-line in a few years anyway, and perhaps by the time he graduated, the catacombs would become a café.

Victor clicked on his I-phone. Far less time had passed than he expected. He cycled through his time-wasters; email, Facebook, weather, solitaire, encountering nothing new or interesting. He checked the time again and sighed. Several books slammed shut. Notes and papers shuffled together into orderly stacks. Nothing else would get into his brain tonight.

"Here, where r u?" popped on the phone's screen accompanied by a hushed vibe.

Victor typed in "Basement. Just keep going until you find me."

The letter "K" came along with another vibration.

He didn't really know what to expect as he slid book and laptop back into his backpack. Aside from the time and date of their most recent rendezvous, the details of remained explicitly vague, very little had been spoken of. There was no way of knowing if Miles wanted a quickie, or to go all the way as he hoped. A lot of that depended on mood, which he couldn't really control, but had thus far worked in his favor. He looked around and considered prepping himself, but the stacks of books and the thought of being walked in on seemed less than inviting. Besides, he would need lube for that. He cursed the hesitation he felt standing in front of the drug store too timid to walk in and buy some K-Y, which would have come in handy, just in case.

The door suddenly crept open, heralding Miles' arrival. Victor stilled his heart upon nearly falling out of his seat, startled out of his daydream. "Damn, you sure know how to hide yourself Vic," the fox whispered upon navigating himself through the rows of shelves and dropping his huge and heavy backpack on the ground.

"That's the point. Never seen anyone else down here. Good place to study."

"So this is where you go?"

"Most of the time," Victor said, swiveling in the uncomfortable chair beside the old fashioned hardwood desk conveniently planted against the far wall.

"So are we still gonna try this tonight?"

"Totally, I can hardly get any work done. I can't stop thinking about it."

"We have a problem," Miles said in a rather exasperated monotone.

"What?"

"My roommate didn't leave town as planned. He's still there, taking up space."

"Fuck."

"Your place?"

"Nope."

"The car?" Miles said out of desperation.

"It's fucking freezing," said Victor, with an equal twinge of frustration.

"What about here?" Miles nodded between the rows.

"Here?"

"Why not. It's not like anyone comes through down here."

"And if we get caught?"

"We won't"

"Fuck it. Let's give it a shot. I'm too damn horny," Victor said, standing up and crossing the paces toward Miles.

Victor read a smile upon Miles' face. His ears attuned to rasp of a zipper, interpreting the subtle suggestiveness in the deliberate pace of its descent. Clothing parted to reveal layers that too must leave his body. The innocent rustle of synthetic fabrics could be heard through the stacks as a jacket assisted by the guidance of a foreign paw fell to the floor in a sweep characterized by a degree of haste. The chime of a belt buckle followed, as did an anxious exhalation of ticklish laughter. Sights and shades passed like the crackle of static rippling across the fabric of a sweater pulled over ears and off the arms of another. A soft gasp passed into the air and a subdued "hey now" protested in vain. Paws coaxing away the shrouds of clothing brought forth the shades of fur, unleashing the scents of body to override the dust of under-read books.

The foxes descended to the floor, naked down to the waist in a nest of discarded clothing, unlacing boots and kicking off drawn down jeans at a pace that couldn't quite liberate them soon enough. With the last foot-paw kicked free from the loose vestments, eyes shifted to the body of the other, catching the coppers and whites of bare fox fur and the primary colors of briefs. Victor's glance traced the outline of the body his fingers helped disrobe, down the slender torso and the flat chest rising and falling through the quick call of air, at the male hips and bulge of fabric concealing the anatomy of gender Victor too possessed.

Victor shifted sensing Miles' stare. His eyes averted, gazing down his body at his belly and briefs, the mound of sheath that in those moments attracted blood flow. He kneeled uncovered in a less than private space, feeling a chill perhaps a degree or two cooler than he preferred seeping into his fur. A shiver ran down his spine, letting him feel exposed and a little bit out of place in a way that let his heart race. He resisted the instinctual urge to conceal the presence of his maleness with the wisp of his tail, wanting it to be seen, and most of all, to be touched. His legs parted and his butt scooted a few inches closer to Miles.

"Been thinking about this all day," said Miles bearing a slight hint of a smile. His eyes blinked a new direction each second, irises focusing in on different parts of Victor too quick to follow. "Could hardly concentrate."

"Me too, it's been damn hard to study. My mind just keeps wandering to you mating with me."

Miles emitted a quiet chuckle and said, "You like this don't you."

"I do," Victor said, "it's obviously less weird for you now."

"I think so. You got something started in me Vic. I don't know what, but it's exciting. It never really felt wrong, just against my expectations. I'm okay with it." said Miles with a tremble of exhilaration evident in his voice. A shift guided Victor closer, well within access of his touch. The fox obliged, coming to rest beside Miles with his back against a row of books. Victor's belly tensed as Miles' fingertips brushed just below his navel. A hurried breath called into the fox's lungs. "Why are you so ticklish?"

"I don't know," Victor said, looking down his belly with a degree of nervousness apparent in the rapidity of his breathing. "I guess I've always been this way."

"I like it," said Miles. "Don't lose it. It's fun to play with.

A quickly drawn in gasp succeeded the snap of elastic. Fingers disappeared beneath the band, distending the fabric of underwear.

"Just think of what I'm gonna do to you when I'm inside you," Miles said as his fingers found sheath, putting pressure upon an already substantial sensitivity that had surged in and out of the stages of arousal all day. The brush of paw-pad passed over bare skin, informing them both of Victor's state. "Eww, you're all full of pre," Miles continued in an almost deadpan voice.

"What do you mean 'eww'?"

"Didn't expect it is all," he said, "you're covered in it."

"I can't help it," said Victor feeling the rush of warmth in his ears and cheeks.

"It's not a bad thing. You just pre a lot. It's kind of cool."

"Here," he said, "let's see." The band snapped again as his paw slipped free. Miles went to work tugging the briefs down his thighs in a rather cumbersome fashion. Victor tried to help, watching the white of his pubic fur come into view. Pink cock poked free, as well as a rather swollen sheath matted with Victor's musk. "You see what I mean?" he said returning to the base of Victor's furry tube. Without allowing Victor to comment, Miles began rubbing at the firmness within, tugging sheath over the smooth vulpine length.

Victor shuddered, his face contorting into an image processing the sudden onset of oversensitive stimulation. The muscles in his core tensed, his belly buckled, sending hips upward and sheath through his friend's paw, causing a little more of himself to peek. The yearning seething in his sex seemed attained, as if the fox had reached for the source of the internal ache and held it with compassionate control. Miles tugged with a distinct squeeze, pulling Victor's sheath down the pink shaft. A gesture that seemed too effective to have not been practiced stroked his length, coaxing the fox's cock into its aroused totality in a matter of moments.

The fox panted as his trembling paw clumsily swept toward Miles' lap, reaching for the bulge of his friend's gender. His paw-pads caressed the fabric, immediately identifying that which lay beneath, tip, sheath, and balls all residing where expected. Miles did Victor a favor in aiding himself out of the undergarment. In moments they panted holding each other's arousal, mimicking the sensations one felt on the anatomy of the other, each accommodating the occasional and often quasi-voluntary upward buck.

Victor tried his best to will his paw along Miles' length as the growing distraction between his legs eroded away the barriers to climax. His eyes peered down his muzzle into the fox's lap, eager to take in every detail of something he already knew quite well, while trying not to be seen lusting. His paw traveled the firm length attracted to the subtle differences, the little details with their strange, inexpressible power. His thumb intentionally swept over crest and tip, drawn to his slit with more fascination than just to sweep away the fox's lubricant.

The slick sound of paws saturated with pre-cum attracted both their ears. Victor looked at Miles and noticed the fox staring into his lap, perhaps filled with the same thoughts. Their eyes met. Victor forced a chuckle, nudging the other fox with a bump of his nose, feeling himself show a little bit of amorousness that seemed to take the other fox by surprise. A shy smile washed away the intent seriousness upon Miles' features, much to Victor's relief.

"Hey, can we do something different this time?" Victor asked, feeling the awkward warmth in his ears return.

"What? I'm not sure if I'm ready to let you do me."

"No, no. I want you to mount me. That's not what I meant. Just, can we kiss a little before we do it?"

"Why?"

"I've been wanting to make out before or while we do it. I've always thought it was hot and kind of makes the whole thing feel more, you know. Complete."

"I don't know, doesn't that send the wrong message?"

"Not if we agree it doesn't"

"I've never kissed a guy before."

"You think I have? You're my first. Doesn't really change anything. Look, you've come inside me like five, six times already. Does it make a difference if we kiss a little beforehand? Just makes it feel like more than just a quickie."

"Just don't get carried away."

"Agreed."

Both foxes looked at each other with a look of confusion, not exactly knowing how to proceed. Both delayed under the last vestiges of heteronormativity fettering them with the expectations of masculinity. Victor sighed off the tethers and let the mechanics of motion carry his muzzle closer to Miles. The other fox sat frozen, the stroking of his paw slowing to a stop. He let Victor's muzzle approach his, following the movement of the black nose and lips, the white fur from which short whiskers sprouted with timid focus. He didn't react nor recoil as lips touched his, merely closing his eyes with the inception of contact.

Victor sensed the nervous breathing wash over his face, picking up the aromas of Miles' body and the scents of his exhalation. He could sense the tension in his friend, the ignorance of how to proceed, and the stiffness which he let himself be kissed. A quick lick and a needy yet gentile bump of noses teased Miles out of his timidity. The contact of their facial fur, damp noses, and warm smooth lips seemed to abate a few of their reservations. With the barrier of space breached, bodies scooted closer, heads tilted, and paws resumed their course over arousals that seemed unusually firm, and unusually productive in regard to pre.

Within moments their kiss intensified, transforming into the intensity harbored inexpressibly within. Tongues found each other, lips parted and let the mutual exploration commence. A quick lap invited Miles' tongue into Victor's mouth. With no further hesitation the fox let his tongue taste the interior of a male muzzle, sweeping over the fangs and palate to wrestle with the tongue of another fox.

Their matted paws ran up and down each other's cocks with more haste than before, tugging as if to milk more than just pre from the slits of their tips. The touch of cock didn't seem enough for Miles' trembling paw. He let his fingers wander, clumsily gripping knot, sheath, and the pouch of Victor's balls with an excited gruffness Victor didn't really mind. Miles' pre-soaked fingers traveled beneath the other fox, to touch the bare spot around tail-hole, performing a hint of his intentions with the slick pad of his finger. Victor offered himself without a hint of reservation, raising his hips to the total access of Miles' curiosity. Victor stroked his friend even more vigorously, as if the excitement felt were enough to warrant the spill of his own seed.

"Hey now," Miles whispered, pulling out of their kiss and slowing the movement of his paw, a claw tip toying with the very center of his tailhole. "You're gonna get me off."

"So?" said Victor, doing the same with a bit of evident disappointment.

"I have other plans for you," he said.

"Is it what I think?"

"If you're thinking about getting on your knees, then yea."

"I think we're on the same page here."

"As I expected," beamed Miles, with his lips curling into an anxious smile.

A zipper to one of the multitude of side-pouches on Miles' oversized backpack sounded almost like a shout in the quiet of the stacks. His precum saturated paw dug around inside, producing a small ziplock bag who's crackling seemed equally and unusually abrasive. The bag contained a handful of squares and translucent ampules. "Check this out," he said, drawing forth a small packet of flavored lubricant. "This should help."

"Whats that?"

Miles tossed the packet to Victor, who's eyes scrolled across its labels.

"Nice," he said. "To be honest it hurt sometimes with just spit and pre. Let's see how this goes."

"Beth says we need to use these," Miles said, holding up one of the squares with its unmistakable round blister. "I don't think it matters anymore, since we've gone without all along. You want to?"

"Not really. I trust you. Let's risk it."

"Sure. I'm clean, just so you know."

"Me too. Don't have a reason to have anything yet."

"That's what I figured."

Victor pulled the tear off tab of the little lube packet and sniffed its contents. Some strange bouquet of chemical fragrances mimicking an indiscernible fruit burned through his nostrils. "This smells awful," he said, folds of fur scrunching around his nose.

"It's not for sniffing," said Miles, raising upright on his knees, the full length of his slick cock directed at him suggesting the tension of impatience.

Victor squeezed some of the thick gel onto the pawpads of his middle and index finger and brought that down beneath his sack. The illicit feeling of self-consciousness came over him as he painted the folds of this tailhole in the cool slick substance in the presence of a naked fox whose hard-on would soon find a place inside him. Mind and heart raced intertwined between the voices of anticipation and rationalization as his body prepared itself as if automated for submission. All the taboos, all the standards and expectations set for himself seemed to speak, but their council failed against the instinct that seemed infinitely more desirable.

He was surprised how easy his fingertip dipped inside him. Perhaps the lube, or perhaps Miles stretched him as a consequence of his repeated surrender. Victor let his fingertip twist around his hole, smearing the substance around his interior. He allowed himself to advance, hilting himself down to the knuckle without the slightest bit of discomfort.

"Don't have all the fun," said Miles, stroking himself idly. "Can I see?" he continued, pointing his nose in the direction of the lube packet.

The packet passed to the other fox. Gel slathered across his long slender shaft. Victor shifted on his knees, turning his tail toward the other fox. He batted aside a boot and a few articles of strewn clothing, taking the only position he thought appropriate. He knelt, bracing himself on the old low-pile carpet, feeling the bite of its fibers on his knees and paw-pads. He raised his tail and gazed behind him, observing Miles scoot behind him. The other fox carried no expression, aside from narrow focus of someone touched by the urge to mate. A few guiding touches asked his knees apart, his rear lower, his tail out of the way. Without going against the certainty of his behavior and without another word to delay that which he sought, Miles' cocktip moved to Victor's tailhole, easily finding the matted tufts of fur, the bare patch of pink, and the aster of folds converging at the entrance to his passage.

In one fluid movement tip, crest, and shaft slid into Victor's tail end. Skin, muscle, and interior tissues spread around his form, taking the shape of the slender fox cock. Miles easily hilted himself, eliciting a gasp from the fox he mounted. Victor winced, not out of pain, but out of the strange sensation of his deep insides so quickly asked to conform around Miles' shape. Victor's cock, knot, and his entire lower torso pulsed with a throb that reverberated through his body, amplifying the urge and pressures of arousal shouting from every inch of his male anatomy. He felt his lubed-up ring quiver around the girth inside and against the knot pressing firmly upon his taught tail-hole.

"Oh, yea you feel good," Miles whispered into Victor's backwards swept ears, leaning over the fox

Victor felt the rush of blood through ears and cheeks, knowing quite well that his fur disguised the rouge of a blush. A forward push preceded another and flowed into countless more, relieving Victor of the need to think of an appropriate if not witty reply. That which left his muzzle came in the form of a gasp, the shudder of exhaled air, and hushed grunts that bore cadence of his youthful voice.

His claws sunk into the carpet, bracing himself for the two-way sweep and the intense and incomparable fullness. The nerves in his fingers and toes tingled. His joints quickly lost their strength. The fur along his spine bristled as sensations that could only be aroused when mating streamed forth from his passage and coursed through every conduit like a continuous surge of electricity. The barrage of sensation chased away all thoughts except those of the most imminent, leaving him little else to consider aside from the cock inside him, the timing of his rearward pushes, and the flex of his little tail-ring.

Miles panted into his neck. His eyes closed and his ears darting in all directions like sensory antenna, listening in on the sounds of sex while keeping a fraction of his attention cast on the door on the other side of the room, anticipating its distinctive creek. Without pause his paw slowly crept around Victor's waist, seeking out the fox's cock at its apex of arousal. His fingers rescued several drops of pre that would have otherwise been wasted on the carpet and stroked them into the firm shaft and thick vulpine knot.

Miles' thrusts hastened, then slowed, then changed to ride Victor's ring only to then pursue the inner folds and constriction only found deep within the tailhole of the fox. Every movement tested the elasticity of the fox's body. The long cock filled his insides and the swollen knot pounded against his exterior, all pulling and tugging as if at once, bewildering the sensory nodes and converging into one sensation unique to tail-raised submission.

Victor clenched his teeth, hissing through fangs as the rugged thrusts struck him, as his fur bristled with the static of friction. All attention focused on the crucial ring of muscle willed to constrict around the cock slipping through. Knot slapped against him with an audible clap Victor was sure could be heard in the adjacent rooms. Twinges of dull pain sparked as the occasional push stressed the taught skin of his body's most intimate region. All his efforts barred a tie, the certain pain, and ensuing dilemma that would result from letting the intimidating girth inside. Yet the unmistakable sensation that certain part of Miles striking him, the little stretch asked of his tailhole evoked thoughts dirtier than he would ever confess to beneath his vulpine ears, chased well within the den of secrets.

He backed into Miles' thrusts in active submission, encouraging the fox onward. He adjusted his pose into a final stance permitting fleet and chaotic movements. It didn't take long before the reach-around stopped. Miles' paw moved to Victor's narrow hips. Fingertips sunk into fur, giving him no place to recoil too, while conveying a command, expectation, and need he was in no position to dispute. He let himself be guided, tugged, and pulled, indescribably stretched and used in the final seconds before breeding, enjoying every second with an intensity that surprised even him.

A long final thrust carrying all the vigor and force Miles could muster struck home, bringing stillness to both bodies. A shuddering exhalation swept over Victor's ears and scalp, expressing some of the vulgarity common to the satisfaction of a certain base need. Miles' belly buckled, urging his hips flush against his butt as a jolt lurched through him. Knot twitched against the sore skin of his tailhole, all the sign he needed to receive to know that Miles finished within, that each perceptible throb carried with it a jet of the fox's fertile cum into the intimate depths of his body, splashing over his bare inner walls unobstructed by any form of protection.

Miles' weight slowly came to rest on Victor. The fox pressed his cheek against his back as he breathed himself back into his normal, composed state, panting into his fur with his arms around Victor's torso. The warmth of his presence, the heat of his breath, and the scents of his body abated the burden, making the ordeal seem more than worthwhile. The whirlwind of different sensations and emotions diminished into a few, not least the proximity, the feeling of his close friend within of him, and perhaps even that left deep inside where there were no nerves to perceive the certain slickness that marked the culmination of their union. His limbs felt like buckling, but still he kept himself upright.

A paw took hold of the fox's erect and dripping cock and polished some of its lubricant into its surface. It didn't' take long for Victor to cum. He eagerly bucked into the courteous thrusts Miles' offered, receiving the reach-around that finally broke the seal of pressure keeping in his seed. His body finally collapsed as he whispered the name of a deity, his cock throbbing in Miles' grasp. White lines of fox cum landed on the library floor, marking the carpet in an overlookable stain.

"I can't tell you how much I've needed this," Miles said, slurring with a mouthful of Victor's fur, teasing out the last ooze of cum with his fingertips on the underside of his shaft.

"It hasn't been that long since last time," Victor said, panting between words, "but I know how you feel."

"Thanks," Miles said.

"For what?"

"For doing this."

"Do I look like I need thanking?"

Miles offered a short chuckle and lifted himself back upon his own weight. Victor remained on his elbows and knees, tail held high. The fox caressed his flanks, his buttocks, and traced his fingers down his spine, enticing a shiver that reminded him of the cold. They stayed connected for what seemed like minutes until the limp cock slipped from the slick passage.

When Miles withdrew it left Victor feeling hollow, sensing the phantom presence in his tailhole and making him more aware of the deposit of sperm floating around inside him. A sigh left his lips as the feeling of vacancy gave way to the warmth of cum filling the void left by Miles' cock. He breathed deep, smelling a hint of his own product from the puddle beneath his belly. He let himself doze in the afterglow, letting overused nerves cool and the tingle of endorphins break down back into the normal modes of consciousness.

His ears twitched as a familiar sound broke the quiet, pulling him out of the post-orgasmic reverie. The emulated chirp of a camera called his senses behind him toward Miles. The fox had the lens of his I-phone directed beneath his tail, its high megapixel eye recording the after-images of their union, snapping a picture of discrete details of his submissive state.

"Nice," Miles said, letting the camera produce the mechanical chirp again, this time held horizontally.

"Hey," Victor said, straining to keep his voice a whisper. "Stop that!" His tail immediately swooshed downward and his body pulled away.

"Relax," said Miles, "Your face doesn't show up. Besides, these are just for me. Here, check this out."

He held the camera up to Victor's face. His bare spot appeared illustrated on its screen, not quite hidden beneath tufts of matted and partially matted fur, beneath a very raised tail. The camera's high resolution perfectly rendered a tiny pearl of white trickling from his loose tailhole. He struggled to recognize himself in the photograph. An unnamable tendency compelled him to doubt that the image captured truth; that his body so clearly revealed the signs of use. An involuntary flex tried to restore a little bit of tautness to his ring. A dull soreness persisted, as did the feeling of that little drop of escaped vulpine essence slipping down his bareness, catching in his fur.

All the sensations evidenced a change more concrete than Miles' photograph could reveal. In that brief moment his body bore the marks of that change, marks that would start to fade away after clothing was sorted and drawn back upon their bodies, after they parted ways and returned to their respective dorm rooms, and after a shower cleansed the olfactory traces and swept down the drain the materiality of their relationship. The experience would stay behind, permanently inscribed in the archive of his past. Now a photograph would join the remains, a superficial after-image to hold on to, to keep secret in the limbo of the phone's memory banks.

"That is so sexy," Miles said, returning the I-phone back to his gaze and thumbing between both images.

"Hey, I don't want those all around the internet."

"I promise I won't share them. But here, let me send 'em to you," said Miles.

Victor immediately heard a buzz emanating from his hoodie, his cell phone announcing the arrival of a MMS.

"Something to remember me by, if you can't make it until tomorrow without pawing."

"I think I'll survive until next time."

"I don't know about you, but I've been pawing like every day."

"It felt like you've been saving up, you twitched quite a bit there."

"Murr, can I have another look?" he said, immediately reaching for Victor's tail. Victor protested, but the shroud of his tail was drawn away too quickly to have any effect.

"Hey," Victor said again, this time threatening to move away, but the firm grasp on his tail base kept him where he knelt. "No more pictures!"

"I just want to see," He said, keeping the veil of Victor's tail from shrouding his body. His head tilted to the side, eyes flickered toward the denuded and defiled presence of Victor's intimacy. Victor gave up, knowing little could dissuade the fox's visual kinks. Miles lay his I-phone aside and brought his paw to the fox's crevice. Two fingers spread apart the cheeks. The trace of white lingered, slowly degrading into translucence. "That's so pretty," he said, gracing Victor's slick and plaint tail hole with a paw pad. Before Victor could react Miles' muzzle found its place within his crevice. His tongue rescued the escaped droplet of cum in a precise flick, carrying the flavor of his sperm into his mouth.

Miles kept his nose about an inch away from Victor's tail hole, his tongue rolled around his fangs distributing the substance across its surface, as if waiting for his senses to interpret the qualities of his own genetic material. Another stroke sent its rough surface chasing through Victor's crevice, over tailhole and ring, picking up flavored lube and the taste of the essence he apparently found desirable. Broadening caresses swept through Victor's recesses, searching for remaining traces within the clean flavors of Victor's body. He began to nibble at the puffy center of his star. His lips seized the loose folds and tugged, suckled, and drew upon the tenderized skin, reclaiming hints of himself lost within the furrows.

Miles' tongue followed his own flavor, chasing for greater densities around the periphery and into his center. His tongue found little resistance passing through Victor's weary tail-ring, quickly writhing itself into the shallows of his body. A soft moan vibrated into Victor's behind. His tongue once again found itself in direct contact with Victor's inner walls, finding them this time bathed in a coat of fox cum. Miles' tongue strove for the innermost surfaces, swept over the unseeable, and returned into his muzzle carrying his most potent fluid. His tongue thrust back into the reservoir, sweeping in and out in swift laps, reclaiming what cum he could.

Victor's limbs tensed as Miles' tongue refamiliarized itself with the aspects of his passage, perhaps probing previously unreached corners in illicit pursuit. His tongue lapped at the sore skin, over the inner surfaces tender from the vigors of sex. Quick breaths with no particular rhythm inhaled and exhaled bearing the modalities of pleasure. A coo, sigh, gasp left his lips as Miles cleared the mess he made of his body. He eventually ceased, having deprived Victor of as much of the substance that bred him as his tongue could reach. He leaned back, kneeling in a reverent position panting heavily of air that must have smelt and taste of nothing else but cum. Sperm clung to his lips and whiskers, streaking his short muzzle fur in thin clear threads.

"Wow," he said, between deep cum scented breaths.

"Wow," said Victor, unsure of what else to say, but deeply pleased nonetheless. "Now you're the one who's full of surprises."

"What can I say?" he said, "You have a really nice tailhole."

"Hey, I'm not complaining. You can do that again any time."

"I might," he said, letting his tongue sweep up the remainder off his face. It's really not that bad."

"Your cum or my tail hole?"

"Both."

"You never tried your own cum before?"

"Never," he said, "You telling me you have?"

"No comment," said Victor, finally rolling off his knees, letting the post coital ache echo through him, deriving just a little enough of pleasure from it to augment the overall satisfaction. He sat on his tail with his legs spread. His softening cock hung more than visible. Miles reclined in a similar position, his breathing slowly returning to normal. The long slender shaft of his cock drooped in quasi-limp form from his sheath, knot still distended around its base.

Victor reached out and carefully touched the spent member, catching its softening shape between thumb and index finger. Victor angled Miles' cock to reveal its different sides and features, observing the after-state of the part of Miles that went inside him, that bred him. The fox didn't seem to mind. He merely huffed an amused snicker and followed his friend's paw with muzzle cast to his lap. Victor tested its pliability, sending paw pads over slick tip and venous surfaces. His thumb pressed into Miles' shaft right above his knot. A final spasm conducted sperm through him. A tiny remainder of white appeared out of the slit on his cock tip. Both foxes stared at the occurrence, then at each other.

Victor let his body fall forward, back onto elbows and knees, bringing his muzzle between Miles' thighs into the immediate vicinity of male anatomy. His paw never left the fox cock, twisting the supple shape toward him as he moved. Victor got a closer look at the glistening point and ridge. He saw the clarifying bead of semen resting within the upward curve of canine tip, clouded with countless carriers of Miles' inherent property.

A leap of tongue transferred that substance into his muzzle. The speck wasn't enough to fully reveal Victor the full spectrum of Miles' flavor, but a suggestion nonetheless seeped across the surface of his tongue, barely enough to inform the sensory receptors of taste. The strange aroma of Miles' seed defied categorization, merging organic and chemical musk into something that wasn't exclusively bitter, or salty, or sweet. His lips encompassed the soft vulpine cock-tip and suckled carefully, finding little but a vestige of slickness coating supple skin. His fingers massaged the shaft and his tongue swept over Miles' slit but found little more than the taste of lube and a shadow of his own body upon the maleness that had graced is innermost confines.

Miles tensed, body shuddering in a state of overstimulation. He reluctantly recoiled, hips pulling his flaccid cock from Victor's lips. "Hey, hey, ouch, hey," he said in a rapid breath. "Super sensitive!"

"Sorry," said Victor, returning to his reclined position.

"Don't be. There's another time for that. I'm still a bit oversensitive right now. Besides, I think we better get out of here. They close soon and I don't wanna get caught."

"Agreed," he said, not forgetting the nuances of his friends taste.

"You okay," Miles asked, beginning to sort through the layer of discarded clothing.

"I'm doing fine," he said, "doesn't hurt as much anymore, especially with the lube."

"Gotcha, I'll see if I can find more."

Without speaking they found their clothes, dressed themselves, casting the occasional glance upon one another to see their much coveted nudity vanish under the multitude of winter clothes. Once dressed and packed they retraced their steps from room to room, down a corridor and up a flight of stairs to ground level, past a distracted Librarian and from there out into the evening cold.

"I wanted to ask if you've changed your mind?" said Victor after a long silence, his words forming mist in front of his muzzle.

"Didn't we just go over this a few days ago? I haven't overnight, but I'm still okay with things," Miles said in a curt tone. Not venturing to make eye contact.

"Have you told anyone?"

"Beth knows. As does Allen," he said in the same matter-of-factness.

"You told Allen? "

"I caved. You know, he's really wise. I got some good advice from him." Miles finally cast a glance over at Victor.

"What he say?"

"I think it's more for me. You can probably sit down with him sometime. I told him because I wanted advice from someone experienced. Ya know? All Lamda house is pretty open, but he's been around a lot longer and for some reason still hangs out with us."

"I guess. I haven't told anyone yet, you know, besides Beth. She kind of knows things before I do, though."

"She's an RA, what do you expect. She's like an old-school telephone operator for gossip. Just make sure you tell her we're playing it safe. We kind of screwed the pooch on that one already, but unless you want to hear her lecture and spend an evening watching her documentaries and highlights from 1990s gay cinema, we best get our stories straight."

"Agreed."

"Just make sure you use one if you're with someone else."

"But I don't want too, I mean, sleep with others that is."

"You don't have too. I haven't."

"Do you want to?"

"No, no, that's like ten steps away from what I want right now. I'm still getting to know this side of me and how it feels to do the things that I've been thinking about for so long. This needs to settle first, but so you don't get too stressed out, I'm glad it's with you. I feel like... I can do more with you and feel better doing it. Maybe it's because we've been friends for so long, or maybe it's just the way you are. When I think about what we've done, there are no regrets. I think that means a lot, and I think that's because of you. Let's just keep doing this and see where it goes, and trust me, I want to do a lot of dirty, dirty things to you."

"Thanks," Victor said, letting a smile grace his lips, "but if something does happen, tell me right away."

"Don't worry about it, but I will right away, oh and..," Miles stopped in his step, standing just shy of the Tin Man, near the crossroads that took them to their respective dorms and swung his backpack around. He fumbled in its side pocket until he produced the little zip lock bag. He selected a few of the metallic square pouches and handed them to Victor. "Take some of these with you. These should fit."

"Where'd you get these?" Victor said, inspecting the wrapped condoms specifically sculpted to fit vulpine dick. The handful went inside his coat pocket, stashed away with a secure pat.

"Where'd you think? Anyway, I'll see you tomorrow Vic. We can talk more about this some other time. Meanwhile... The L-word is a big thing in my book, but, you know I wouldn't be doing this so often if I didn't think it were possible. It's not just me who needs to figure this out. The couple weeks that we've been up to this just aren't enough, besides, what's the rush?

"I guess so," said Victor, looking downward at the salted sidewalk beneath their four boots. "I'm trying to keep my soles on the ground about this. Everything you say makes sense. I'll try to keep an open mind about this."

"Thanks," Miles said. "Truth be told, I feel like I'm in the deep end here. It's not like I regret everything, and what we do is a hell of a lot of fun, it's just that the last few weeks have been so fast. Anyway, it's freezing, we should go." Miles took a step down his path.

"Wait, no kiss?" Victor continued, taking the step with him with a look of expectation.

Miles rolled his eyes and sighed. He looked around in all directions, seeing nothing but the halo's of flood lights and the orange shadows of trees and bushes cast across the thin layer of partially melted snow and ice. He placed his paws on Victor's hips and guided his muzzle against his. Victor felt the brush of his whiskers. The warmth of his breathing chased away the bite of cold stinging his nose, and his scent once again graced his senses. They parted ways without another word. A slight wave, a few backward steps taken facing one another led them down the forked path to separate residence halls. Victor watched Miles turn and stride briskly into the dark. Victor walked the rest of the way through the woods thinking about the warmth of a much needed shower, aware of the slickness beneath his tail and the little trace of Miles that went with him and slowly became one with his body.

Navigating the Labyrinth © Rufus Quentin

Characters Victor & Miles © Vickfox