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Jarreth became aware of darkness and the patter of rain when he opened his eyes. Confusion as to his location was the blight of the wanderer. Utterly silent himself, he listened over the rain and the rumbling of thunder. The rumble found the shanty window's resonant frequency and it shuddered in its slot. Jarreth listened afterward to the room and stopped breathing momentarily. Quiet snoring close by, warmth cuddled close to his athletic lines. A sniffing appraisal of his bedmate reminded him of the night before which had been a romp with the prostitute boy at his flank. A smile upturned the very corners of Jarreth's muzzle at the thought.

It puzzled and frightened him to so easily lose himself to his thoughts. Gently he pulled away from the boy who did not stir but rather claimed more of the dusty sheets for himself. Jarreth padded to the window and lay his paws upon the sill. In the dead of night he could assess nothing. The rain was only apparent for the noise and not even the brilliance of lighting could cut through the filth and grime which caked the window. He thought it fitting to peer at a scummy, opaque window as he needlessly trudged into his own past. Feelings unrequited, incest nearly brought to bear, lust satiated (suddenly a glance back at the prostitute boy) but never removed.

The ferret pressed his head against the window and enjoyed the cold glass against his hot face. Crying was such a rarity for him that he didn't realize he was doing so until a sob caught in his throat. He swallowed it and felt disdain for himself with a pang of disgust at what he had committed just hours before. Sodomy with beautiful men was an act he refused to deny himself but had trouble swallowing later on. He had thoughts of vagrant drunkards with their distilled vices.

Light filled the room from within and Jarreth looked back to see his chosen whore sitting up, having just lit the candle. Endearingly he stretched. Jarreth admired the tableau of his slim form and noted how the light played off of his cascading blonde hair. He was a fox crossed with a raccoon, and that rarity plus beauty was why Jarreth had picked him in an instant.

"I apologize for waking you," said Jarreth as he turned back to the window.

"No need to apologize to me, sir," said the boy. He stood up from the bed and made for the door just as Jarreth peered back again.

Jarreth asked without snapping, "Where are you going?" His pragmatic nature was curious as to where the whore he'd rented until sunrise was heading.

The boy turned to Jarreth, and even in the low light his green eyes gleamed with vulpine mischief. "To piss," he said rather bluntly and stepped out through the door. In the interim Jarreth took to the bed but didn't lie back. He sat on the pillows, put his back against the headboard and studied the ramshackle room he had rented. All he sought was a distraction, a means to get out of his own head and away from his demons which always roused after quality time with men.

The slim young foxcoon padded back inside and locked the door behind himself. Despite the ungodly hour he seemed perfectly lucid and he smiled fondly at Jarreth in a way the ferret could not pin as fake or genuine. "Do you always rise at this hour, sir?" cooed the boy. "Or did you wish to enjoy me again before our time together is up?" he prodded further with a wink.

Jarreth smiled cheekily but his penis was flaccid between his legs. "I suppose a bad dream woke me up. I don't see myself sleeping again easily," said the ferret as he looked to the window.

The ferret noted a shift in the bed's balance as the boy mounted it and sidled up to his mark. Arms around Jarreth's torso and nose in his neck, the fox cooed, "Maybe you'd permit me to relax you, sir?"

The ferret remained cold, but the boy was persistent until told otherwise. Jarreth didn't physically shun him but he bluntly asked, "Does this life please you, lying with men for room and board?"

Though the query gave the boy pause, it didn't stop him altogether. He answered, "I enjoy when men such as yourself come for our services. Foul swine have had me. I won't delude you into thinking otherwise."

Jarreth blushed imperceptibly at the flattery of the comparison. "But does it make you happy?" he urged.

"Happiness is a fleeting and queer thing," mused the boy, who only now yawned and offered a glimpse of his tiredness. With a nuzzle into Jarreth's neck he said, "So many men come here looking for happiness and I do my best to provide it. The pursuit makes me happy when it works out."

Slowly Jarreth turned back to face the foxcoon who sweetly smiled and dragged the same expression out in return. "You're pleasant to be around," the tall wanderer admitted.

"So are you," answered the foxcoon. With his smile widening, "And I can be much more pleasant than this, as I'm sure you recall..."

In limbo between desire and disgust, Jarreth turned away again and said nothing. Absently he chewed his lip and palmed the foxcoon's flank. Soon enough the boy writhed down his long body and chained kisses from his navel to his groin. Jarreth shivered and said nothing but stayed obligingly still even as soft fox paws found his flaccid penis and groped upon it to the effect of provoking an erection. In the twilight between soft and hard, his shaft swelled thickly enough that its blunt glans bared itself with the foreskin pulled taut. The boy took the musk-laden ferret flesh past his sticky black lips for an intimate suckle.

Pleasure drowned out Jarreth's nagging anxieties which were exorcised in a pleasant huff. One of his paws slid to the boy's head and he threaded his fingers through the golden locks. With the other he exercised a tight grip on the sheets. In that heated maw he soon bore his full erection, and for a time he did leak his pre and huff warmly in total pleasure. The boy's sucking was wet and firm and it beat out the ambiance of the rain but not the uncommon quakes of thunder.

A reality of having woken up only to delve into sex occurred to Jarreth, and he smiled in an impish and blushing way. "I need a moment," he muttered, and the boy reluctantly pulled off only to kiss warmly on the bared tip as though to worship it.

"Have I done something wrong...?" the fox asked, albeit with no conviction.

Jarreth softly shifted while his smile tightened. "To put it as you might," he said, "I have to piss."

"Oh, I understand," the boy replied with a tight smile of his own. Jarreth expected the fox to move, but instead he resumed his suckling with an even tighter seal.

The tod's apparent disregard brought Jarreth more amusement than it did indignation. When crude realization washed over him, he smiled slyly and brushed over the boy's ear, making it flit. "If you're certain," he said quietly, to which the fox reached up and squeezed Jarreth's paw in reassurance.

Urinating through a full erection was a small challenge for Jarreth, but one he overcame with a slight push. When he at last pissed into the boy's suckling muzzle he sighed in that special, primal contentment reserved only for relief of the bladder. Conversely the foxcoon seemed to flourish in such a use of his maw rather than suffer it, and he wasted not one drop of the handsome ferret's musky piss. Dutifully he gulped it down as it came, though when Jarreth's urination came down to the last droplets he let them pool in his maw and coat his sinful tongue so as to thoroughly taste the handsome traveler's liquid musk.

With his duties as a urinal in the immediate past the boy returned to his suckling easily and soon had Jarreth sighing and crooning pleasurable nothings to his chosen whore. His legs parted on either side of the boy, his feet wriggled, toes curled and his tail hole clenched all at the sweet pleasure derived from this skilled labor. "You've made a form of art out of this," huffed the ferret.

So I have, the boy thought. Spurred with egotism, he sucked with greater force and twisted his slender muzzle as he went along to shift the textures of his tongue and idle teeth all around the ferret's uncut member. Under his skilled ministrations that masculine flesh throbbed with incredible need and the ferret grimaced and huffed as he took a hasty handful of the boy's hair. The fox knew what that grip on his hair meant and it added up with every other blunt cue Jarreth put off. His work didn't cease, and in fact it became all the more intense, his suckling so loud as to drown out even the thunder when it rolled. Undoubtedly the other guests could hear; that was a dirty spur of its own to the foxcoon.

Teeth and eyelids clenched, Jarreth curled his toes tightly, arched his back and blasted his load into the boy's maw. Not unlike the piss, not a single drop was wasted. Every bit of his salty semen washed down into the foxcoon's gullet while he suckled and slobbered to milk his temporary lover. Throughout Jarreth's climax and into a few perfectly blissful seconds of afterglow the fox gulped, sucked, twisted and slobbered to give Jarreth every ounce of pleasure that he possibly could, and the end result was a very satisfied, if not reserved ferret.

The boy made to pull back but he found Jarreth to be holding him down. A moment later the ferret let up, and a moment after that the fox pulled off of the ferret's glistening and pulsing cock. With intent to offer warmth the boy climbed up over Jarreth, straddled the seated ferret and bumped noses but didn't kiss. Many men were apt to piss down his throat but they became quite irate at the prospect of a kiss afterward. Jarreth, however, welcomed it and he freely swapped saliva with the tod. Absently he tasted the piss on the whore's breath and thought back to drinking his own for survival. Visceral thoughts, ones he pushed away in light of the afterglow. He stroked up and down the boy's sides and finally squeezed around his back.

Snuggled against the foxcoon before the dawn, Jarreth felt a strange optimism replacing his typical anxiety and sorrow. To know that an affectionate young thing like this fox could exist in such a run-down hole made Jarreth wonder if any such beauty existed in his soul. Love lost and feelings misplaced would never truly stop haunting him, and this he knew emphatically, but with the handsome fox's warm fluff crushed against his own he felt serenity. "Thank you so much," he whispered into a flitting fox ear.

A sly chuckle from the fox was loaded misconception as to the thanks. He said nothing and stayed cuddled into Jarreth, and together they found sleep again.