Uncovered
#4 of Hockey Hunk Tie-In Stories
Hello, folks!
This is a non-canon Hockey Hunk short commissioned by :iconCaptain-Markus: - who thought that our good old tiger friend needed some attention!
*
Shouldn't summertime in Boston be a lovely thing? All the...weather and...furs and...things...and all I'd manage in the past couple of weeks was dragging myself out into a café or...with perhaps alarming frequency, unless I wasn't a writer, to The Willow Branch, a kind of a...how to describe this place?
Well let me try. There are little tables, and booths, and huge windows, and a polished bar counter, and furs sit reading books or Kindles, while they drink. Does that make it any more clear?
I didn't have a book, or a Kindle, or a notepad, or any other paraphernalia you'd expect from a writer. I only had a worn-out brown jacket (no elbow patches, though!), my sleeved arms covering the glass tabletop. I had a little booth to myself. It was a slow night. The waiter had just taken away my old glass and brought a top-up.
"How about you leave the bottle?" I'd asked. "I'll pay the full price."
The squirrel left the mottle, and I was fine with that, staring at the dark glass with its blood red contents. More of it was on my glass and quite a lot already in my bloodstream. I wouldn't probably get drunk from a simple bottle of wine like this, but I could as well try. Drink the afternoon away. Saturdays aren't that special when you don't work five days a week for a living like normal furs. It's just another state of sitting around. You usually see more furs them, of course, or at least furs that aren't pensioners and hence have all the time in the world to pass out in book bars.
"Is this seat taken?"
I saw him first as a kind of a refraction through my glass, but I was quick to sit up from my hunch and observe the German Shepherd standing there with a cocktail that came complete with a straw. He was smiling, looking quite casual in a blue shirt that had the top buttons open. Black pants. An eager smile. Earnest eyes. An expensive watch.
What kind of a character would I make out of you?
I made a show of glancing to my left, and to my right, as if to make sure whether the booth really was empty - and it was, like the two booths on either side of mine, which meant that the German Shepherd wouldn't really bother asking, unless he had ulterior motives.
Well, why the hell not? It's not like there were enough cute young men after my striped tail.
"By all means," I nodded.
He slipped down and sat casually, and I could smell a hint of musk, and a soap, and some kind of a conditioner. No wonder the darker patches of his fur were so shiny.
"A lovely day!"
"It is quite nice," I squinted a little as I looked upon the windows bathed in sunlight.
He picked the bottle of wine in a bold paw and rolled it about to read the label.
"A fine year," he mused. "I felt like something more fresh than red today, though."
He lifted his drink, full of bubbles and ice and generally looking summery indeed, and I smiled.
"It smells like pear," I noted.
Within half an hour, I've tasted a little from that drink, he's sipped from my wine glass, and he's touched my arm twice, I've touched his once. He laughed a bit too easily, even considering he wasn't drunk yet, and judging by that sip I got from the glass, it had some proper alcohol content indeed. I polished off my glass of wine and poured another one, but he seemed to be content with his singular drink, and ordered a coffee instead, when he was done.
"I came here just for the company, not to fall asleep under a table," he smiled.
It took me another hour to figure out he's called David, and I offered my paw and introduced myself as Colin. He didn't make any connections, at least not publically, and I generally have a hunch when furs get that "...isn't that..." feeling in their minds, but try to hide it. Not him. He's perfectly and beautifully oblivious that there is more to me than just being a random tiger sitting on a book bar and getting hit on by a rather handsome canine.
You shouldn't underestimate book bars as places for mingling. The more artsy types are naturally attracted to these places, some to feel better about themselves, others to simply enjoy themselves, maybe strike up a conversation with someone of a like mind.
We kept talking and we realized we both knew Tennessee Williams, and we talked about that a while.
He was obvious, and I knew that I grew a bit more obvious with each sip of wine. Unlike a certain encounter of a feline sort I'd had before, where he'd been obvious enough, but...but I wasn't, I suppose. No danger of that happening, here. The German Shepherd didn't hesitate to lean closer to me as we murmured a few extremely corny inside jokes about Blanche DuBois.
He smelled of peaches, and he smiled sweetly, and I could hear the gentle pat pat pat of his tail.
"I don't want to be...presumptive..." he said, sounding presumptive.
"You can be if you want," I agreed even before he asked.
Well, sometimes it didn't have to be hard, no? No need to dance around and just snivel and droop quietly like that goddamn lion. Jesus Christ Almighty. What'd he done in his life to make things seem so complicated? Did he think that's how things were supposed to go? What the hell did he think, anyway?
I pushed thoughts of random lions as far away as possible from my mind while we walked along the pavement, getting used to each other's preference. He hadn't joked about living nearby, either, as we got into a kind of a studio apartment on top of a stylish gift shop. Rather...self-servingly bohemian, I thought, but not too bad. He did press me against the wall in the stairs and cup my muzzle while we kissed, tongues rubbing together while I put my paws onto his hips and felt firmness there.
It felt a bit mad, that it was only something like five PM on a Saturday, and windows behind the heavy curtains surely struggled to keep sunlight away, while I was pushed on a bed and kissed by a pleasantly rumbling German Shepherd. This guy, David, seemed quite assertive...which I didn't mind. He was gentle about it, very much so, just pleasantly leading us on, with a lot of warm kissing, and stroking my arms and my chest like he'd known me for a longer time than one half of an afternoon. Perhaps being spontaneous was exactly what I needed for, on a day like this, when my mind wouldn't let me be.
He sat over my aroused lap while he unbuttoned my jacket and my shirt, and leaned down to kiss and lick on my nipples, making me purr helplessly and claw on his back a little, painlessly, but let him know how I felt about getting my minor man-mammaries mouthily molested.
He was musky, like canines are, with an aggressive muzzle most suitable for licking and slobbering and playfully teasing me, dampening my furs, and my collars. He covered me with his body and we rubbed ourselves on one another for quite some time, growing more aroused, both of us, while he took an extraordinary time nuzzling and licking my wrists. The sensation was oddly arousing, I had to admit, as my breathing grew ragged.
He crouched over my again, unzipped my pants, and then dragged them down with his teeth with only minor assistance from his paws, over my hips.
"Sit on the edge of the bed," he murmured before licking me, from the tip of the base, making me moan hotly.
I did, of course, and he went down on me, me watching with heavily lidded eyes how his long muzzle bobbed up and down on me. That big tongue was agile and stroked my barbs into a nirvana they'd rarely known before...or at least so it felt while I was like this, tipsy and a bit drunk on the excitement of being with someone new. It was easy to forget, and easy to stop being ridiculous, and just drift along and stroke one of those perky ears. He had gorgeous blowjob ears, always moving and enjoying the noises I made, whether with my throat or with the slibber-slobber of his muzzle going up and down on me, one paw rolling my nuts...ahem...my balls.
He left me wanting and purring raggedly, when he left with a warm, thick slurp. He got up from his athletic crouch and kissed me, holding my muzzle again and tousling the fur on the back of my neck.
"I only play safely," he said, watching me after we sat and crouched there, mutually panting.
"That's the only way to go," I replied in a whisper.
"I'll look forward to it," he grabbed me and squeezed me, stroking me only once but almost making me lose it right there and there, before he stood up...stepped away and turned around, so that he could wriggle his rump at me while he undressed.
I stared, dripping and feeling very, very aroused, and the realization dawned on me.
"You want to..."
He gave me a grin over his shoulder before he bent over to finish taking off his undies.
I wasn't going to complain. I'd just expected things to go the other way, frankly, with how dominant he was acting previously. But this was alright, more than fine, of course.
He took out some supplies once we were both in the bed, and I prepared him with fingers and a lot of lube before he simply pulled his legs up near his shoulders, with the athletic zest of a canine none the less, flicking his tail to the side in a most erotic manner.
"Come on..." he husked.
I pushed my tip against his hole and he took me in right away, letting out a very distinctively canine sound as I sank into him and suddenly my hips were against his and our muzzles were together, gasping each other's breaths.
I held onto his shoulders and he put his paws on my back, and we began to rock, surprisingly unhurriedly considering the whimpering passion before. The little interlude of applying plastic protection and lubricant may have had something to do with that, I thought, as our muzzled mixed again, the bed rocking pleasantly under our bodies. We weren't slinky by any means, it added momentum, made it more pleasurable for both of us.
We went on like that for a long time, rocking, kissing and rumbling. He let out a bark when I squeezed his knot and began to stroke him, more or less in tune with my hips pumping into him. Soon it got faster, quicker, and hotter, too, while our bodies strained. I could tell he was getting there...yes...
"You...first..." he whispered.
I bucked into him only further half a dozen times before I twitched and came, not forgetting to lean over him and biting his shoulder, just gently, but enough that he let out another beautiful noise, soon to be repeated when I stroked him into a wet climax between our bodies. Collapsing together afterwards seemed like a good idea, and so we were, once we did some very cursory cleaning up and then we laid down, this time with he behind me, me on my side, with his arm slung over me and his chubby erection between my own striped cheeks.
"You're so warm," he whispered into my ear, before licking it.
I wriggled my rump against his lap and stroked the arm that was resting over my chest, enjoying the warm of a fucked man.
Why do you look so outraged when I said that?
Heheh.