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It was way, way too easy.

Not that I'm complaining, of course - I love easy. Low effort, high reward is the best way to go!

I'm always on the prowl when I visit a party whether I planned on making a catch or not, and our eyes caught fairly early on. Of course, it was a party, and he was visiting with all his friends (I guess) and 'socializing' with others, and I just love cruising around seeing who I can charm and having my fun in the dance room. I kept crossing paths with the Ninetales over the course of the night, always stealing glances at each other and sometimes not-so-accidentally brushing against each other as we passed. Sure enough, he was walking at my side when I left the frat house for my apartment. I may not be ripped like the guys on varsity are, but I'd say I'm toned enough that my swagger is more than enough to catch just about whoever makes my mouth water.

We just talked on the way back; he was a fun, friendly, energetic guy, and pretty good discussion too. From what I knew of him, he was a senior, and he never had more than one drink at a party, and I couldn't smell anything on him tonight. I didn't drink either, just because I gotta be in control of myself to have the control I like when I'm alone with someone.

If I had his reputation right, I think he was a bit of a nympho, too. Not slutty, (despite being a cheerleader - really, we had a pretty big guy's squad on our cheerleading team,) just always looking for a good time. I don't take slutty guys; I don't like it when they're desperate, or trying too hard, or just too thick to think with their head more than their crotch. And this Ninetales was definitely none of that, even if he always left a party with someone - just a guy looking for some fun. And boy was I gonna have fun with him, hehheh...

I think I really surprised him when I shucked off my pants and boxers in one go the instant I had closed the door to my off-campus apartment. I didn't "make a move" on him, though, which is probably why he just gave me a confused look instead of started freaking out. (Probably helped that I was still mostly soft, though I could feel myself starting to stiffen a bit down there.) I jabbed a thumb toward the dresser standing right next to the door, explaining "I always hang out in the buff in my apartment, only get dressed right as I head out the door. And," I added with a smirk, "the 'no clothes' rule applies to guests, too." I took the opportunity to pull my shirt off, and when I had my vision back I could see the kitsune smiling. Good, he thought it was a fun rule.

"So I gotta lose the tight shirt and skinny jeans?"

"Sure do, foxboy," I answered, putting my hands on my hips, elbows out. "Make a show of it for me." Giving him a command like that was a bit of a gamble, but he was a cheerleader after all, I hoped he might have a bit of exhibitionist in him - and I wasn't disappointed.

He locked eyes with me as he started unbuttoning his dapper little vest, and didn't break the eye contact even as he let it slip off his shoulders and down to his hands before he tossed it onto my couch. Damn that stare... Not intense, not sultry, not teasing, just constant, trying to read me; I got completely hard just from that, though I didn't move aside from crossing my arms. He continued by reaching down to the hem of his shirt, crossing his arms doing so and pull it up and over his head in a classic movie-style removal. He then tossed the shirt at me, which I caught and set on my dresser. As I was turned to the side doing that, he turned around so I saw his back when I looked next.

He was wearing a pair of jeans designed to sit below the tail - or, in his case, tails - and it was a GREAT view of his back even with the pants still on. He was slim like me, not an ounce of body fat - but definitely not a twink. Twinks are noting but skin and bones, no substance at all; this fox had some muscle tone on him, though not at my level for sure. He also had a really alluring set of man-curves, (by which I mean just a high, thin waist - I don't like my guys with big bums, I'd go for girls if I wanted that) which really drew my attention as he ran his hand down his sides before hooking his thumbs into the waist of his pants. His hands slid out of my view as they went to his front. A moment later I heard the soft pop of another button and then a zipper being undone.

His hands slid back into view, thumbs still in the waist as he started pushing them down, giving a slight angle to his hips with each push. The jeans peeled off to reveal some sexy royal purple bikini briefs - now in view as most of his tails were flagged to the left. (One was to the right, one over his shoulder, and one still toward me, swaying side to side as the pants came down. I think I started growling a bit at that point, heh. I mean, come on, I had already been completely hard and in the buff and he was damn sexy.) He stopped pushing his jeans down when they were just above his knees, his hands returning up to those purple designer briefs. With how he was standing, the crotch of the underwear stayed in place as long as they could, the garment turning inside-out as he pushed it down to meet his pants, which were doing a very good job of still clinging to his legs. He then started doing a little shimmie, holding one of his tails as he shuffled his feet, his pants inching down while his briefs stayed stretched around his knees.

At that point, he reached down to remove the briefs, and lost a bit of his smoothness as he actually didn't get his foot out on the first try, and hopped in place a bit before getting the underwear off his one foot, making it drop around his other ankle. It was decidedly less smooth than he had been before, making me snicker a bit.

"Hey!" he said in mock offense, turning around. I noticed he was almost as big as me, though he was still completely soft.

"Well, good, you were being too perfect there. Glad to know you're not some almighty, perfectly polished sex god." At that, he kicked his garment-ringed foot up in front of him, catching the bikini briefs with a swipe of his hand, which he quickly followed through by throwing them at me. Of course, being much smaller and less ball-able, they lost speed quickly in midair; without thinking, I jumped forward and snagged them in my teeth before they hit the ground.

I got my first really good whiff of him then, and damn it made my cock throb and mouth water, even the relatively fresh (not the "rank" fresh - clean) briefs smelled so hot. I played with them a bit, stretching them out and sliding them side to side with my hands so he could see, being more than just a little suggestive with my tongue. He just smiled and watched my portion of the show, taking on the same strong arms-crossed position I had been in; starting to stiffen a little bit, I noticed.

After a few moments of my underwear play, I said through teeth and fabric "Deese rr really soht - fyure cotton?"

"Yup, I don't like synthetic," he answered conversationally, pausing at semi-erect.

"Good, I runna keet deese." He gave me a questioning look then - probably not at the request to keep the bikini, I'm sure it would look good on me too, but at the order of the questions. Before he could ask, I snapped my jaws once, twice, getting the purple fabric completely into my mouth. Then I swallowed them down.

He just stared at me while I licked my lips. "What, not like you're going to be needing them for the rest of the night, right?"

"...Well, no..."

"hehe Sorry, little kink of mine. I love the tickling feeling in my gut."

"Must say, that's a new kink to me..." he said slowly, but he walked over to me and started tentatively rubbing my abs. He started off just trying to comprehend, I think, but something must've clicked as the wonder faded to fascination, a bit of a grin getting on his face as he rubbed a bit harder. Something else about him was getting harder, too, and I could start smelling him more as well.

After a moment of the bellyrubs, I stepped aside and walked over toward my home entertainment center. "Any radio stations you particularly like?"

"Huh? Oh, uh, not really, I'm cool with just about anything except country and classical."

"Okay," I said, turning to a rock-heavy station before flopping down on my couch, arms along the back and legs spread. "But yeah, I've got a great set of neighbors here; or at least, we almost never bother each other," I said, picking up right where our conversation had been as we walked into my front door.

My Ninetales boy had a slightly-confused, slightly-amused look on his face as he played along, our discussion quickly switching to some of the shennanigans he'd seen in his almost-four years of dorm life, which I had avoided right off the bat. He came around behind the couch at sat down on the back with his tails draped over the cushions; I think he just wanted to sit 'next' to me for good conversation, but it put his hips almost right at my eye level. After a minute or two of just talking, I gave a slight lean and made a good lick up his side-rump. To his credit, he hardly missed a beat while talking about classes. It did, though, start a game of Chicken of sorts, if we hadn't already started by that point - who would be the one to break the charade (though was it really a charade if we were both enjoying it?) and go in for the sex.

Not long after my lick, he slid down from the couchback to sit directly next to me, thigh-to-thigh, with my arm quickly finding its way around his shoulders. Not much later, his hand on my thigh and a tail looped over my neck. Then, another lick from me, this time to the side of his face. Then, his hand sliding between my dick and my abs, his thumb ever so gently starting to rub. (I took pride in the fact I didn't miss a beat either, continuing on about which guys on the basketball team I'd bang. Funny how that's the only part of those several minutes of discussion I remember.)

I finally broke the deadlock when I returned the favor, reaching down and giving his fully erect foxhood a stroke. This time, he shuddered at the touch, the paw on my member shaking a bit, and then he stood up quickly, his dick giving a soft slap against his stomach as it moved after the sudden shift. "Can a grab a drink of water or something?"

"Huh? Oh, uh, yeah, got right ahead - kitchen's right over there, glasses are above the sink."

"Thanks. Gotta make sure you stay hydrated ahead of strenuous activity, am I right?"

"Oh! Definitely..." That got my tail twitching as I watched him disappear into the first opening on the right in my hallway, followed by some clinking glass and running water. A moment later he reappeared at the entrance to my hallway, turned to face me, and started drinking. He was intentionally showing off his neck as he drank, letting me see each swallow. He wasn't stopping to take a breath, either, determined to down the entire glass at once. Near the end, I noticed water starting to dribble out of the sides of his mouth, down his neck, and across his chest. Also probably intentional, and certainly working on me. I stood up as he finished, smacking his lips with a satisfying 'aaah!'.

"So! Which way to the bed?"

"Well, there's only one hallway," I said sauntering over toward him. He turned before I got to him and walked down the hallway leading me. He entered my bedroom, turning on the light as he walked to the foot of my bed and turned around to see what I did. I turned off the lights and walked right into his face.

"Hope you know what you're getting yourself into, foxboy."

"Well, I chose to leave the party with a dark-type, so I hope so, too."

I snarled and grabbed at his shoulders, shove-throwing him onto my bed, his head just barely bumping against my headboard. Hey, I know my way around my bed and how to get guys in it.

I crawled onto the bed between his legs, giving a quick nuzzle to his junk as I moved above him. He quivered for just a moment, but came back in control of himself as I lifted his knees up, quickly taking initiative and wrapping his legs around my waist ahead of my own lifting.

"No lube, huh?"

"Oh, you'll be lubed up soon enough."

"Awesome."

With that, he reached down to my groin and guided my tip to his entrance. I love laying other fire-types, they're so warm... Once he had lined me up, I quickly shoved forward and hilted on the first thrust, making him gasp.

"Ooohhh, yeeeaaahhh...." His voice actually dropped on the 'yeah', (as opposed to rising in a squeal,) which really got to me. Well, that, and the fact that his ass felt absolutely fucking amazing! Tight but not overbearing, supple and quivering, smooth like velvet... I was shocked he had a different guy every night, both in that he didn't feel loose at all and in that no-one tried to keep him!

I pulled all the way a moment later, already leaking a fair bit of pre on his quivering hole, then shoved right back in. I did that a few times, pausing at each hilt and removal as I got him nice and slick. The next time I slid in, I did it veeeerrry slowly to mix it up for him - and got the low "ohyesyesyes..." response I was looking for, with one of his paws going up to my chin.

I started fucking him for real then, starting slow but speeding up without ever pulling out or pausing. After a minute or two, I tested the waters and grabbed his other hand and lifted it to my mouth, sticking a few of his fingers in and starting to suck. No reaction besides the continuing low moans, groans, and 'fuck's.... He was totally taken by my dick smashing into him and his prostate over and over. Excellent.

I used my tongue to slowly ease his entire hand into my mouth, then reached up again and took the paw on my cheek and slid it into my mouth as well. His arms were now straight above him, hands completely in my mouth as I was propped up above him. I relaxed my throat and started leaning forward as I fucked him, feeling the tips of his fingers slowly enter my gullet. He moaned at that point, and I felt those fingers wiggle a bit. Was he enjoying the feeling? Occasionally some prey did - a throat is warm, soft but muscle-y, moist.... I gave a swallow and he groaned again, squirming in obvious enjoyment. (Trust me on that one - I've seen enough of squirming to know what's "uncomfortable" and what's "tingle-y".)

I swallowed again, getting his wrists all the way into my throat now, and this second time got to him enough that I felt him start twitching as he climaxed, shooting his orgasm all over his stomach and chest. I felt his bowels clenching and spasming around my cock - I was getting REALLY close but not quite there yet. I kept swallowing as he rode out his orgasm, getting the tip of my snout about to his elbows as he went completely limp, his head flopping to the side and his legs loosening around me as he panted, worn out by my continued rutting. I cupped a paw behind his head and lifted gently, his neck truthfully having no strength right now, bringing his head up until it was lined up right between his arms. Then I kept swallowing, my jaws really stretching over his arms as I got closer to his shoulders.

There was a soft "hnn" as his muzzle started sliding into mine between his arms, but he was still so caught in his afterglow that there was no real reaction even as I felt his ears pass my nose.

My jaws finally popped open as I could start feeling the panting in his own throat with my tongue, and those combined sensations on top of his ass still around my dick finally pushed me over the edge as well, pumping my seed into his ass and, as the changing position forced me to pull out again, all over his groin.

With my lips now reaching his shoulders, I grabbed his side and sat him upright so it would be easier to force myself down on him. I thought I heard him try to say something, but with the front of his mouth now reaching down into my chest I didn't understand a word, of course. He did start that uncomfortable squirming then, though, so I tried to find a way to keep him relatively still.

I found it between his legs; he was still rock hard for whatever reason. I gave it a stroke as my mouth slid around his shoulders, felling his body quiver as he was caught between pleasure and fear. With the widest part of his body in my mouth - well, then my throat - I started going down on him much easier, tasting his seed (which was rather sweet) on his chest and stomach as my mouth slid down closer to the bed. His squirming came to a sudden half as my tongue slid out across his abs and found his bone. Now, I'm not going to claim to be an expert at blowjobs - a dick only goes into my mouth (or anywhere in me, for that matter) during a "full-body blowjob" like this - but I'm good enough that he completely tensed up again, getting a really good licking from me.

He started humping against my tongue as I got his hips into my mouth, at which point I readjusted out position again so that I was sitting upright instead of being hunched over him. His feet were temporarily on the bed until I swallowed enough to force them to lift into the air, his crotch sinking deeper into my mouth. I tasted my own spicier seed on his junk as I kept swallowing, and my stomach started feeling full as he was forced to start curling up in there, though he was definitely moaning now. He came again as another swallow pulled his dick into my throat, peristalsis milking his pleasure, causing another series of twitches before he went completely limp again. Man, do I love sending guys into that weak, almost lifeless state, it's such a rush!

It was all downhill from there. I tiled my head back to stick his legs up directly above me, and gravity significantly helped the next series of swallows. I kept my mouth wide open with each swallow until I felt his footpaws pass my teeth, at which point I closed my muzzle around them, only things still sticking out being a few tailtips. I learned quickly that Ninetales tails dry out your mouth something awful, but he tasted so good and felt so good in me that I didn't mind. A quick wiggle of my lower jaw popped it back into place, his legs and feet still in my throat. Then I swallowed niiiiice and slow: feeling someone's ankles, the last hard and bulky part of them, pass from the mouth into the throat is easily my favorite part of a meal. Or maybe my second favorite. Or third? Ah, I love most of it.

I felt his tails slip out of my mouth through no effort of my own as the rest of him was forced to curl up in my stomach and thus pulled the tickle-y appendages down with him. I flopped over to my side on the bed, one arm draped over my stuffed middle as I felt some weak squirming from within. At this point, I can't tell if it's from pleasure or from fear, but I can guess; not like it matters anyway, of course. I could also still feel my hardon, messy and pressed up against the underside of my gut. I had a great paw-off session the next morning.

I spent most of that Saturday in bed, relaxing as my gut churned away at its occupant. I mean, have you tried to move around with your something essentially your own weight project out in front of you? Not easy. Sunday I was more mobile, having processed a fair amount of the Ninetales senior boy by that point, the Ninetales mark starting to appear on my abs then. I don't know if that's just something that happens with me or if it's something all Hunters have. I've only met one other Hunter in my life, and that was the third month of freshman year, last year, when she put two and two together based on my first two not-well-veiled Hunts. See, although Hunters are common enough that people don't trace disappearances much anymore, you occasionally eat someone that really meant something to someone, so in general Hunters don't like being found out. When there are two in close proximity, well - twice as likely for either one to get found out. So apparently we usually try to Hunt each other when the opportunity (necessity?) arises. At least that's what she told me before trying to attack me; thankfully I got the better of her. Damn Granbull, didn't even taste good.

By Monday morning, my gut was down to a level that just looked like a severe fast food binge, at least after I had another unloading in the bathroom. I had been out in my living room Sunday as well, but only today I really took notice of the Ninetales' pants and tops that were strewn around. I dug through his jeans pockets to get out his wallet. I saw on his student ID that his name was Abel Weatherby, and had to laugh at the coincidence. I stashed his cash but destroyed his credit card - I didn't want to make a purchase that would look suspicious.

Next I picked up his pants. My mind wandered and thought he wasn't that much smaller than me, so I treid them on. A bit tight, especially around the waist considering my current state, but they gave a nice border to the Ninetales-face tatoo now prominent just above my right hip and felt good too, though I realized they wouldn't have fit if I had tried wearing underwear beneath them. Which was perfectly find by me, and quite the exciting eye-opener for the Nidorino I banged and left panting in the bathroom stall at the bar later that night. Don't tell anyone, but I think he's really deep in the closet - he was really pushing back into me, but I'm pretty sure he's on the pro basketball team here and married.