Timothy and Ginger, Ch. 2: Six and a Half

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#2 of Timothy and Ginger

After Ginger's accident, Timothy devises a way to try to make it up to her, while appealing to his friend's curiosity.


I squirmed inwardly, wondering whether I'd made the right choice. The opportunity had not arisen to mention what had happened, for I was bound by what I'd said to not bring it up, and she'd not mentioned it at all, even when we were alone. But this was our next opportunity to go for a half-day walk in the woods unsupervised, and I didn't want to squander it. It had taken a lot of fast talking and a promise to stay away from the pond to get away with it this time, so we'd have to be sure there were no more... accidents. Nevertheless, I'd made a point of drinking extra water, and successfully deceived my mother that I'd used the bathroom when I hadn't.

It was a warmer day than last time, which made the cool of the forest even more desirable, leaving the pair of us dressed in similar outfits as last time - she in a sky-blue dress that complimented her eyes, while I had one of my brown shirts and faux-camo shorts. Wreathed in smiles, Ginger accompanied me as we fled into the woods for some fresh playtime.

After an hour or so of chatting aimlessly about school and stopping to look at birds, butterflies, and whatever else caught our eyes, an insistent ache reminded me of what I'd prepared, and I realized I couldn't put it off any longer. "Hey, um... Ginger?"

Between the tone of voice, my lowered tail, and my tilted-back ears, the feline realized something was bothering me. "What is it, Timber?" Ginger inquired, looking slightly concerned.

Hesitating, I couldn't really meet her eyes as I replied, "I, um... need to pee."

Ginger stared at me for a moment, then gave sort of a sighing laugh. "Forgot to go before you left?" She shook her head, not giving me an opportunity to answer, and started to turn around. "All right, go ahead. I promise I won't look."

"Actually," I hedged, causing Ginger to look curiously back at me. "After last, um.... you can watch if you want," I finished in a rush, my tail showing my embarrassment. And yet, traitorously, it also demonstrated a bit of hope that she'd agree to watch, wagging ever so slightly.

The lioness girl looked at me for several long seconds; apparently this option hadn't occurred to her. "We could get in trouble," she warned me, but I shook my head.

"An hour out into the woods? Your parents went shopping and my dad's at work. My mom wouldn't follow us here," I countered. "Besides, um... it only seems fair."

That oblique reference to that earlier incident made Ginger's tailtuft and the tips of her ears twitch once, but as she continued thinking it over, I could see her warming to the idea. While we were both bound by the various rules and traditions of our respective families, we'd made allowances to discuss things with each other in the past. "Okay," she acquiesced, the slight motion of her whiskers signifying interest. I don't know if she'd ever wondered about how boys are different before, but I was soon to learn that she hadn't seen one.

My heart started to beat a little faster with anxiety as she agreed. This was it; I was going to break one of the rules of privacy... but then again, it was to my best friend. "Let's go a little off the trail," I suggested after a moment. "I don't want someone else to wander by."

The lioness girl nodded quickly to that; even if it wasn't their parents, and company in these woods was rare, being caught by anyone could be trouble. We trailblazed just enough to put several large trees between us and any sightlines from the normal path, setting our packs out of the way, then I gave one last look around before forcing myself to start unzipping my shorts.

Although her attention was mild at first, it sharpened when my lowered shorts revealed my underwear. A deep breath and a get-it-over-with tug left me and my puppyhood exposed to my closest friend.

Her eyes widened when she saw my small sheath on display, with my furred young balls hanging under it. A simple glance at her was proof that she'd never seen a boy before, certainly not a wolf. I could only guess she'd been expecting someone like herself, and was quite startled to see something so different. "That's... wow," she murmured. "I don't have one of those... what is it?"

That was, at least, a partial answer to my own unasked question; it didn't explain what she looked like, but reinforced my conclusion that she must be different. "It's where I pee from," I told her, my heart still hammering with excited nervousness. Reaching down with a hand, I gently grasped the sheath and pointed the business end at the tree, which caused her surprise to renew.

"Don't you have to squat down?" Ginger wondered insistently, as though I was about to make a mistake.

"Nope," I replied with an embarrassed smile, then forced my clenched muscles to relax. It was hard, harder than I'd thought having someone watch would be, but my insistent need to urinate soon overcame that barrier. Soon my own pee was spraying out of my sheath in a tidy stream, splashing against the bark of the tree. Looking over at her fascinated and somewhat envious expression, I teased her a bit by moving my little puppyhood around, redirecting the stream with it.

"I wish I could pee like that," she murmured, watching my continuing release.

Not entirely surprised, but nevertheless curious, my ears tilted towards her as I wondered, "You can't aim?"

"Not... really," Ginger replied somewhat evasively, the slight twitch of her features showing that she was stepping close to her own embarrassment, despite my not having anything to hide from her.

Deciding not to press the issue, I noticed it was getting easier now as I continued, and after a while, a little bit of the reddish bit inside my sheath started to poke out, which immediately reignited her curiosity.

"What's that?" she asked, and I chuckled softly, losing my anxiety by the second.

"It's... well, it's what's inside this," I gestured, rubbing the thin fur of my sheath slightly.

Slowly moving closer, but being careful to not get splashed, Ginger looked at that small bit of red, then asked timidly, "Can I touch it?"

I thought this over; my bladder was about half-empty now, and my stream was losing its force. "Can I see yours too?" I counter-offered.

Ginger gave this some thought, and we were immediately off to one of our negotiations. "I'll show you mine the next time we're here."

"Oh, I have to wait? Okay, then next time I get to watch you pee naked, and then I can touch yours as much as I want."

"Fine, but only if you're naked and I can touch you again too."

"Deal? Done," we said in unison as my stream finally tapered off with a final pair of squirts.

As much as I wanted to see her now, we had a deal. Leaving my shorts down around my ankles, I awkwardly moved away from the tree and kept my hands at my sides. "All right... you can touch it."

The feeling of Ginger's delicate fingers reaching out to touch my sheath was... odd. It felt so weird to be touched by someone that wasn't me, but her warm pads brushing across that thin fur was strangely exciting. After the first few touches were not resisted by me, the young lioness girl became bolder, reaching out with her other hand to prod at my balls. "Be gentle," I warned her, wanting to avoid any temptation of her trying to pinch me. "It's all really sensitive."

Ginger giggled, her expression of one that is excitedly exploring something that they know they aren't supposed to be doing, while knowing they won't be caught at it. "I've seen shows of guys getting kicked between the legs," she said, twitching her whiskers. "It always looked like it hurt." As she kept playing with my sheath, she gave it an odd look. "It was all soft, but now it's getting harder."

I rolled my eyes at her remark. I'd had enough close calls to know that yes, it really did, but it wasn't really a topic I wanted to encourage. Her following remark hardly needed pointing out to me; I could feel that familiar stiffness growing inside, but with an insistence that was new. "It does that sometimes when I touch it for a while," I acknowledged. "Look." Before both of our eyes, my reddish penis started emerging from my sheath in earnest, growing in length and solidity with slight twitches that went along with my heartbeat. Ginger was rapt, rubbing a finger delicately over my pointed lupine glans, then tracing it alongside my length, down to the rolled-up sheath at the bottom.

"Why's it get all big like that?" Ginger asked, still not looking away. I could only shake my head.

"I don't know," I admitted. "It feels... sorta good, but sometimes it happens when I don't want it to." I watched as Ginger played with it some more, looking slightly confused. "When you don't want it to?"

With my ears tilting back further, I'm sure I looked pretty chagrined. "Like in school, sometimes. It's... I don't want to have to get in front of the class while trying to hide this," I pointed out, my tongue lolling as I attempted to make a joke of it.

Laughing softly, Ginger still couldn't seem to take her paws off of me, and while it still felt good, it was starting to edge into more embarrassment than I could handle, as she was still fully clothed. "I guess I can't blame you for that," she agreed.

Bobbing my head sheepishly, I let her touch me for another minute or so, then tried to reassert some control. "Okay, I think that's enough for now." Then, looking at her expression and attempting to cut off the impending protest, I mollified her with, "You can touch it again next time."

Bristling at first, Ginger subsided and nodded, withdrawing her hands and allowing me to get dressed again. I noticed very quickly that my length barely fit within my underwear, the firmness visibly tenting the fabric and the sensitive tip rubbing right against the upper band of elastic. Wincing and hoping it would subside soon, I pulled up my outer shorts while Ginger watched, her interest barely subsiding even though I was no longer visible. "Does that hurt?" she asked after several moments, now able to spot the telltale bulge even through the looser fabric of my shorts.

"It's a little uncomfortable, yeah," I replied, regaining my confidence now that I wasn't so exposed. "It'll shrink on its own, though," I reassured her. "It always does." Ginger looked a little skeptical, but let it go at that. By mutual unspoken agreement, once we had our backpacks and were back on the path, we didn't discuss the matter further, and our conversation and play returned to more innocent matters.

While the rest of our hike was fun and enjoyable, it was clear that we were both looking forward to the next one.