FSE

Furry search engine

formerly SoFurry search engine

Man Overboard

A commission for Toshiba, by GabrielClyde

"Hey, Piggle Wiggle!"

I turned at the sound of the voice, though it was against my better judgement. I knew he would be here, of course, but I kind of hoped he would have left me alone. Amongst a thousand other lucky furs on this fucking huge cruise liner, you would have thought he could have found others to torment. I was not to be so lucky, it seems.

"Hey, Ray." I tried to sound polite but non-committal, like he was some sort of vague acquaintance and hoped he would get the hint. No such luck.

"Isn't this awesome, Piggy?"

I had to hand it to him: He had the wide-eyed stare of pure wonder going. I was less enamoured of this tin can we were going to be tossed onto open sea in for the next few weeks, but something about his enthusiasm was starting to rub off. Or maybe that was the seriously strong piña colada in my hand. Still, I couldn't avoid my own thoughts coming through a bit.

"Yeah, Ray, awesome. Eleven decks of fun and frolic, all self-contained. Along with a thousand other furs all stuck together, while the ocean tries to kill us..."

"I know, right?" As usual, the dense bull seemed to have missed the point. "One huge fucking party, all for free. Could it get any better?"

"Right... party. Look, if it's not too much trouble, can you call me 'Troy' while we are here? I know I'm a boar, everyone can kind of see it, but maybe here my nickname can take a rest?"

"Awwwww, little Piggle Wiggle... I don't call you that because you're a boar. I do it because you're such a cuddly little piggy!"

The fucker tickled my belly then. He actually fucking tickled me. I was about to lose my shit when I was saved by a big bunch of women who surrounded my bull companion and began talking excitedly. He immediately forgot about me, thank fuck, though I had to drop a little pang of vague anger at how easily I seemed to leave his mind in the face of this bunch. One mare in particular, about thirty-five, seemed to have taken a particular shine to him, and he was eyeing her up like... well, a piña colada. I drained mine with a scowl and headed for the bar to find my next one.

Of course, I shouldn't be disappointed, or even surprised. I knew my Ray, for way longer than was healthy for me certainly. And I knew there wasn't anything much about my rather podgy body that could compete with the Bovine Adonis; and, well, to be truthful, the women didn't do anything for me either. But still, it hurt. History can be a fucker that way.

Ever since the first day I met him in school, I had both envied and hated the fucking bastard bull. He had everything I didn't: Charm, good looks, a body to die for. Everything seemed to come easily for Ray, including the girls. They flocked to him, and he managed to entertain a string of girlfriends and casual fucks without ever seeming to be held accountable for being such a slime-ball.

It was the football, I reflected, as I gulped down my cocktail and then reached for pure tequila instead. No sense wasting it.

Football... what was it about footballers that made everyone let them off the hook, for everything? It wasn't even that that had irked me, but the ultimate betrayal came more recently. After ending up at the same University, I had managed to avoid the beef-head as best I could. It wasn't too hard, as I was doing a full-on STEM nightmare of a course, culminating in a Masters of Data Science. Beefy had barely scraped into some dead-end marketing course, while playing for the University football team, though in typical fashion, he had mostly majored in "beer and babes."

While I slaved over every grade point, he scraped by for a bare bachelor's degree after seven years, and I confidently expected our paths to never merge again. So my surprise was total when I made it into the graduate program of a major company, only to find my nemesis there, taken on into a sales role largely due to playing football alongside the CEO's son. I ground my tusks and expected him to be found out.

Alas, I was in for a nice dose of reality. While the IT geeks were well enough paid, they were never really respected. Lost in a back office role nobody understood, I watched the bull parlay his charm into a successful sales career and a bonus larger than my base salary. Somewhere between C++ and Hadoop, I must have missed that class.

So to the fateful day of the staff Christmas party, and the exciting prospect of a raffle for an all-expenses paid cruise around the South Pacific. Sun, sea, sand, drinking, and all the shit I normally avoided, but watching Ray laughing and backslapping the senior execs, I swallowed my complimentary glass of sparkling wine and added my Ticket to the large glass bowl beside the punch. The tsunami of surprise that greeted my name being called out had almost turned to a glimmer of expectation when I heard the second name.

"And the second winner is... our very own sales ace Ray Morgan!"

I had toyed with handing back the prize, but something in me steeled that night. I was going to enjoy it, Ray or no Ray. I just hadn't counted on him making me feel about a foot high with his teasing and his false bonhomie and the memory of me as a nerdy fat-boy teen who nobody talked to.

Heading for the prow, I took several deep breaths, and stared out into the ocean. Out there, perhaps I could ignore him. After all, this was a big fucking boat, the Pacific Jewel. And while it may encapsulate in one gleaming white hull a large number of things I hated, (including crowds, parties, and rampant heterosexuality in a consequence-free environment), it had its attractions. Not least of which was its huge size. If I was careful, I should find enough things that would keep me away from the bull and allow me to enjoy the experience without...

"Hey, Piggle! There you are... not avoiding me, I hope? Hey, I've booked us in for Karaoke in the Sirocco bar tonight. Don't be late, Piggle; I promised the CEO I would get some footage of us for the staff intranet. Got to keep up the company spirit, me Old Pork. Get your singing voice on!"

He turned and trotted off, a little unsteadily, supported by the solicitous mare who appeared to be falling out of her top already, there was so much cleavage on show. I watched them go, the bull laughing and clinking a beer to her more demure Bacardi Breezer, and let out a long fervent string of swear words that disappeared into the low braying tone of the ship's horn signalling our casting off from the short. His muscled ass wiggled as he walked, and in spite of everything, I couldn't help watching it, awe-struck as I was the first time I saw it at school. This was going to be longer and harder than double Phys Ed with Mister Gordion, I realised with sorrow, and went to drain my cocktail only to find I had done the deed already.

Fuming, I headed for the bar, searching for any way to avoid an afternoon of memories.

****

Three a.m. found me sleepless and depressed. I headed for the promenade deck to clear my head and try to feel something other than what I was feeling at the moment, which was a comforting mix of regret, longing, and alcohol poisoning. My stomach was assailed by all three, it seemed, and I made use of the convenient expanse of Pacific Ocean to clear the decks before I found a spot to my liking where I could look out over nothing at all and let the wind fill my head.

I should not have been surprised, I guess. Parties were never my strong suit, let alone the kind of debauched offering I found in the Sirocco Bar. And of course, there was a certain bull...

I had not been prepared for what this cruise would be, I guess. I had heard all the stories, and the stuff on the internet and blogs and all the usual, but being a long term believer in the power and importance of empirical method, I had dismissed it all as second-paw ramblings and determined to find my own ground truth. Well, the ground had proved to be truthful, all right. In fact, they didn't seem to know the half of it.

I had been looking for all sorts of excuses, of course, but all that was circumvented by my nemesis. He had pounded on my door at eight p.m., after I had made a hasty exit from dinner to try to avoid just this. He had people in tow, of course, including the bubbly mare from the departure party, and they all proceeded to tell me in no uncertain terms that they weren't about to take "no" for an answer.

Like I had throughout my life, I caved. It irked me to know that and be unable somehow to do anything about it; and of course, Ray knew my weakness and how to exploit it. He knew I hated confrontation, almost with a mania, even a pissant confrontation through a locked cabin door. He had been exploiting it since school to get me to do all manner of things for him I had no intention of doing, and yet found I could not muster the courage to deny. This was merely the latest in a long line of shame.

So I had emerged, in what I thought was my best and trendiest shirt and jeans, to behold the splendour of the bull dressed for the evening. Sharp jacket, silk shirt with tie, pointed hoofboots in black with shining spurs, and a pair of designer jodphurs. The mare was there, in a cocktail dress, and a lioness in a black slinky number. I felt like the dweebiest dweeb who ever dweebed.

"Awww... that's OK, hon. Just... come and have some fun?"

The mare then pinched my cheek, like an annoying great aunt. And the bull fucking snickered.

I had followed them, like some cautionary tale on the dangers of terminal nerdishness, all the way to The Party. It was called The Party, I found later. It seemed to fit.

The Sirocco bar had been tastefully decorated once, and may have been OK without the audience. But somehow, filling it to the brim with preening thirty- and forty-somethings on the prowl removed the veneer of respectability for me, and turned it into some sort of Dante-esque circle of Hell. The bartenders had little devil horns on their heads, as if to invite the comparison.

About half an hour in, I realised the true horror of The Party. Part of me was able to treat it as a kind of anthropological exercise at least. I had no direct experience of this tribe, only glimpses through the windows, so to speak. And this glimpse was kind of fascinating.

Not quite middle-aged heterosexuals. Getting their groove on. Checking eachother out. Flirting. Way past flirting. Heck... fucking dry-humping on the dance floor. It would be a little over the top to call it an orgy, and after all, as a graduate of the back rooms at 55 Porter Street, I felt I knew what an orgy was supposed to look like. It definitely wasn't supposed to look this... desperate. Or still have the lights up.

And yet, here they were, and I was forced to admit the truth of the blogs. These cruises were nothing more than one giant frat party for oversexed, over-aged breeders who had lost their inhibitions and wanted to party with like-minded individuals for as much booze and/or random sex as could be arranged. And I had to watch it. Gross.

"Come on, Piggle... your turn!"

I had watched Ray belt out a passable Karaoke version of "Khe Sahn" to the raucous approval of several tipsy females and more than a few bro-hoofs from the dude-bros in the audience. His easy way with the lads made me wince inside, feeling the old wounds open just a little wider, but that pain was subsumed in the desire to flee as fast as possible once it was apparent I could not get away from his insistence to make me sing. In public. Like, out loud.

"No, Ray, I don't think..."

"Aww, come on. Don't be a chicken as well as a little piggy. Come on, be a sport..."

I would have stormed out then but for the mare. She wrapped her arms around me and whispered in my ear.

"I bet you are better than him, Troy. You show him!"

My face burned, my heart burned, but mostly my throat burned under the influence of way too much neat tequila. I had been shunting it away like a hardened drunk all night in order to avoid a complete freak-out at the Hetero Bacchanalia unfolding in front of my unprepared eyes, and it had reached the incipient vomit stage around about the time Ray came for me. Unfortunately, it had also reached the fearless demigod stage too, and though I recognised the signs from seeing it on Ray way too often, I had also lost those crucial critical faculties that normally served me well. Like a brain. Unfortunately, not also a pulse.

So I looked through the list and plumped on one of my favourites without thinking through the consequences, or the realities. I had sung it before, you see, in a very different place amongst a very different crowd. And a very different orgy. It represented comfort, familiarity, and a bit of a sly wink at the hetero-dudes. And more than a nod to one of my heroes, who had made it possible to live my life of quiet desperation and confusion.

Heaven loves ya The clouds part for ya Nothing stands in your way When you're a boy

Clothes always fit ya Life is a pop of the cherry When you're a boy

When you're a boy You can wear a uniform When you're a boy Other boys check you out You get a girl These are your favourite things When you're a boy

Boys Boys Boys keep swinging Boys always work it out

At first there was silence, and then a huge cheer went up from the mare, followed by several of the other drunk cougars (one of whom was, I kid you not, an actual cougar), and then the douche-bros joined in so as not to feel left behind but mostly so they could get laid, and Ray just shook his head and smiled. And I fucking floored it, I smashed that song so much I should have done a mic drop but chickened out at the last second. And when it finished, I headed for the bar and another tequila with my ears on fire and my pulse racing.

A meaty arm clapped on my shoulders. It was Ray, of course.

"Not bad. For a fag; but I guess you don't mind being known as one anymore."

I wanted to swat the cunt.

"Fuck off, Ray. Besides, Bowie was Bi at most, at it doesn't mean..."

"When you're a boy... other boys check you out... yeah, I know, Piggle. And you did, all the fucking time."

He said it with a smile, just like he did back then, a knowing, winking smile, and I ordered a double.

"Well, I hope you don't mind, but I got the recording on video. It's going back to work as soon as we hit port; should get you past your straight-laced reputation at least. Well done, Piggle."

He was off again, in a maelstrom of semi naked furs, before I could react. On the dance floor, he handed his tie to the mare, and she fashioned it into a makeshift bridle and put it on his muzzle and led him round the dance floor like her personal fuck-toy, and I watched in disgust and anger and far, far too much jealousy for comfort. Tequila helped though. I never knew it could be so useful.

Except at three a.m. on a heaving deck in mid ocean, it was now anything but useful, and I heaved out my guts until there was no more in there to lose. I wished Ray was as easy to get rid of, and knew it would be well worth it to feel like this if I could completely purge the cunt from my life. But alas, God was a motherfucker, or a comedian, or both.

I had plenty of evidence of that during my hours of fitful sleep. Once I managed to stagger back to my cabin, I had fallen into the deep slumber of the truly pissed, only to experience the most erotically-charged memories of my youth that had been left well locked away for a long time.

***

I had vomited on the field again. I knew it was coming, sometime around the fourth lap of our road to Golgotha, otherwise known as Phys Ed. Mister Gordion, the sadist goat, had decided we were a bunch of useless pansies, so we were going to run this afternoon. And run. And run.

The class took it in their stride, but not me. I knew I was no good at this, and I had been unable to arrange a note from my parents in time. So I ran, or at least jogged with intent, until the cramps and the fatigue came over me. Then I trotted on the spot, driven by the mocking from the goat and my peers, until the stomach cramps forced me to vomit. Then I ran again, but I broke down one last time as everyone else waited for me to finish. The goat had sent them all to the changing rooms while I 'composed myself' in silence. Mostly, I ran through a litany of ways I would kill the goat, if I got the chance. I had settled on dipping hooves first into a large vat of acid when his voice came from the door to the gym.

"Get a move on, Pig!"

So I got, on unsteady hooves, all the way to the change room. One shower was running, a lone figure under the water letting the heat soothe aching muscles after football practice and weight training. He always had them this time on a Thursday, I knew. I had been watching a long time.

This afternoon, he had his eyes closed, pointed at the shower rose, the water cascading over his coat and down his body. I watched it travel, tracing its path as if with my fingers and tongue - neck, chest bulging with new muscles, nipples, abdomen, sheath...

He had his cock poking out, as he often did. He was always so nonchalant in here, like it was his personal domain. When any of the other jocks commented on his state, he would just taunt them with the inadequate size of their own genitalia and make reference to their sense of inadequacy. Much strictly dude-bro heterosexual banter would ensue, about girls, about jacking off, about their prowess.

I watched it all and ate my heart out. He looked amazing under the water, even better than he did in class, where I watched him also from a distance, fitfully, but intently. I had become expert at the furtive glance, just timed for when he stood up and flexed that magnificent butt, or his biceps to show off to some silly girl as she batted her eyelids at him.

"Like what you see?"

My reverie was interrupted by the sight of a pair of big brown bull eyes staring straight at me. And a huge shit-eating grin on his muzzle.

"I... I... I..."

"Awww, cat got your tongue, Piggle? Or maybe... some real bull meat?"

He had it in his hands now, fully extended but not erect. Even then it was awe inspiring, and I watched it jerk a little as his mammoth balls danced under the influence of fingers of water from the shower.

"I... I... I..."

My brain had frozen. But something else hadn't, and I realised, in horror, that I had a boner pointing over the waistband of my jocks.

"Don't be shy, Piggle. You wouldn't be the first to fall for this. Miss Clemenger is getting it tonight."

"Miss Clemenger?!?!"

I sputtered, mixing shock and disappointment. Miss Clemenger was the librarian, a quiet doe who always encouraged me in my studies. I had a bit of a thing for her, in a totally cerebral way. Surely not...

"Yeah, that doe. Fuck, she bangs like a dunny door and screams like a wharfie. Should hear her..."

I wanted to be sick then. Or angry. Instead, I watched... entranced, as he soaped up his length.

"Nice and clean now, Piggle. Want to touch it?"

I felt myself drawn like a moth to the candle. I could see the veins, the pink throbbing weight, the power. Not just in his cock; his thighs, his shoulders, his chest. He was in his prime almost, and not even out of school. I wanted him so much...

I reached out.

He slapped my hand away and laughed like a hyena.

"Fuck, you are such a fag, Piggy. I thought so, not everyone believed me, but I knew a faggot when I saw one. And fuck, did you just confirm it, nice and easy..."

****

The memory almost drew another bout of vomiting as I watched over the waves. I had lost count of how many times he had filled my erotic thoughts, did Ray. And in all of them, the ending had been different to the reality, and I had reached for his cock, and he had kept on washing and let me jack him off until, with throaty sighs, he ordered me to my knees. And I had gone willingly.

Instead of the harsh reality that left me hurt and bewildered. He had not said anything much about it after, but I knew he knew, and he could tell anyone he chose. Instead, I tried to ingratiate myself in other ways, doing his homework, doing his bidding, and he in turn invited me along to things like some pet. And I went, grateful to be somehow inside the tent, looking out at those less fortunate who the footballers felt no compunction about beating up for their lunch money.

We had just one more erotically charged moment in our school years. Invited to join the crew for the post final exam blow-out of Schoolies, I went with trepidation, but also some excitement. And if I found my role was to be their designated walker, getting them back to the apartment when stinking drunk, I didn't mind so much. Except for one night.

Coming back with one of the lads - a wolf so drunk he thought my name was Jeremy, for some reason, and tried to dry hump me - I had got him into bed and came to my own room to find Ray there already, with his conquest for the night, some pantheress from Sydney. And they didn't stop when I came in, quite the opposite.

Ray saw me enter and flop down on my bed. He had her in the missionary position - not my favourite, I had to admit, as a gay guy, but the breeders seemed to like it. She was pinned under the massive bulk of an eighteen year old Adonis bull footballer, along for the ride, as he fucked her with no passion but plenty of vigour. She had her paws over his shoulders, and as I sat there, he turned his head and his eyes stared at me and he smiled. And he kept watching me as he fucked her, and I saw his ass wide open, the pucker winking as his hips rose and fell, his balls dancing, his long meat disappearing and reappearing, slick with the girls fluids, and I had to listen to her moans and cries and watch her claw his ample ass as his tail swished, and still he watched me.

And under his unspoken coaxing, I did it. I reached into my pants and pulled out my length and I jacked it, heart in a mess and aching, but not as much as my cock. And when I shot, he did too, and I saw his pucker clench tight and his balls jerk as he filled her snatch with his milk, and they lay there cuddling as I tried to get to sleep, only to be interrupted by their next fuck.

I was glad to be spared that dream tonight. I guess I should be thankful for small mercies. It had its uses, though; it got me through my first year of college, and into my first real relationship, though that was another story.

I headed for the prow, wanting another view, but my way was blocked by a figure. A bulky figure. And before I could ruin it by speaking, I realised it was the bull of my dreams. But this one was very different to the memory. This one was crying, while he stubbed a half-smoked cigarette against the deck and hugged his knees to his chest watching the waves. I halted, hidden behind a metal support beam, and contemplated this most surprising development.

In the light of the moon, I watched the bull, trying hard to stay quiet. He rocked a little back and forward, and pulled out a picture to stare at it a long time. Then he threw it over the side and went back to his pose, a ball of bull with his knees against his chest.

Unfortunately, the motion of the ocean did its thing, and at that precise moment, another wave of nausea overcame me. I bolted for the banister and hucked into the heaving water.

I felt arms around me, and instinctively tensed, wondering if he was going to throw me in after my puke. But instead, he just held me.

"Easy, Piggle. Take it easy. Just breathe..."

"Easy...*huck*...for you to say...*wheeze*..."

"Yeah, I've had more practice than you, Piggle. Just take it quiet."

I did as he said, comforted by his presence, and his body next to mine. It felt way too good, but I was not about to turn it down.

"Always said you could sing, Piggle. You did good."

My smile would have been a sight to behold, if I hadn't thrown up again. I guess the words would have to do for now.

****

The festive air had almost got to me, I had to admit. We had docked in Noumea, the white sands, colourful buildings, and green, green hills of New Caledonia beckoning. I wasn't sure at first, wondering if I should just stay on the liner, but something about the place had me intrigued.

In school, I had mostly been a typical nerd, sticking to physics and maths and computer science. But my one outlet for the humanities had been French. I stuck with it right to year 12 and even did some into university, and though I hadn't had a chance to speak it for a long time, I could feel the old pathways reenergising in the face of the babble of dialect-heavy French and the sight of tricolours as I came down the gangway.

Ahead, I saw my bull, with his adoring mare in tow. She had seemed to have taken ownership of him, almost physically. Today, she was draped on his shoulder like a mare pashmina, doting eyes on his muzzle, laughing at his jokes. I waved and was ignored.

Behind them, though, I saw an unexpected and more fascinating sight. Another mare, slightly younger than the one my Ray seemed to have acquired, pushing a wheelchair containing an old grey-maned mare. The little procession looked incongruous, and in spite of my introverted ways, I found myself trotting up to them.

"Hello!"

I held out a hand to the mare pushing the wheelchair. She looked at me with eyes simmering with disdain, and gave a noncommittal nicker. The old mare in the wheelchair was more animated.

"Daniel! Good to see you, my boy; where have you been?"

Her fingers reached out and tugged my shirt like a claw. I found myself pulled down by an unexpectedly strong hand, and muzzle to muzzle with the mare. Her eyes were wide and sparkling, and her ears twitched and swivelled towards me. She dropped her voice into a conspiratorial whisper.

"I don't think mother saw us, Danny. I loved it so much; do you think we could do it again? I can meet you in the park at midnight..."

The younger mare seemed to relent a bit, and gently eased the old mare back into her chair. She subsided, grumbling, and fussed with a blanket in her lap.

"I'm sorry... she has good days and bad. This is one of the bad."

I looked at the young mare. She looked even more like the one with Ray close up, but with a careworn look in her eyes. I felt drawn to her instinctively, perhaps picking up that fellow-feeling of the put-upon. Something told me she was my kind of martyr.

So I held out my hand.

"Hi. I'm sorry we haven't met. My name is Troy Cartwright..."

She didn't take it. The frosty look was back too, I could see.

"I know. Well, I knew you were called Troy anyway. Your 'mate' there told me. Though he seems mostly to call you Piggle. Silly name for a grown fur."

I gave her my best smile and held my hands up in surrender.

"Well, I agree with you there, and we aren't exactly mates. More acquaintances... we went to school together, and he made my life hell, but I somehow can't seem to get away from him..."

She nodded then, and gave a half smile. "I get that. And it seems my sister has the same problem: She can't seem to get away from him. As much as I tell her he is bad news... and he is bad news, isn't he?"

She was looking into my eyes now, searching. I nodded and made a slight grimace. I felt I had to try to defend him a little...

"He is a dick, no denying. He has a lot of charm, and some good qualities in there, but fundamentally, he is a selfish prick and bad news. I think he could be a better bull though, in the right circumstances..."

I saw a mare hand go up and she shook her head. "No, stop talking. You were doing so well."

We ended up giggling a little, and she held her hand out now. Progress.

"I am Mary, this is my mother Anna. And you have met my sister Alice."

"Not formally."

That drew a wry grin. "Well, I don't think she is into formal on this cruise, do you?"

We walked along at a pace suitable for a wheelchair, talking about the harbor and the city below us. But it seemed there were wounds below the surface, and the mare wanted to scratch at the stitches, even in the Pacific sun.

"A trip for mum, she said. Get her out of the house, she said. Fun and easy, she said. Oh, and 'I will help take care of mum' she said. I should have known my sister better."

"Is your mother... well..."

"Alzheimers. Not bad all the time, but she has her moments. She thought you were Danny, I see. That is a name I have heard a bit of late. There was a picture of a young boar in her things; I was looking for some documents and came across it. He had written her a love poem... it seems our mother was something of a romantic in her youth. My sister took after her, of course."

"And you?"

She shrugged. "Someone has to be practical."

I nodded firmly. Definitely my kind of mare.

"So... what shall we do, Troy?"

"Stop calling him that! He is Danny... tell her, Danny..."

The old mare was getting agitated, in spite of her daughter's attempts to calm her. I shrugged, and gave Mary a wink. She sighed.

"What shall we do... Danny?"

It seemed my tastes and the mare's were in sync. We headed for the markets on Rue Clemenceau, and into the melting pot of French Creole culture that always fascinated me in school. And I got to bask in the warm satisfying glow of seeing the mare's admiration as I navigated us through the city with my French, even managing to get a waiter at a beachfront bistro to be vaguely polite.

My attempts at fitting in to local custom were somewhat defeated, though, by the heaving mass of a certain bull, who pulled the table next to ours up without asking and sat down with the giggling adoring form of Alice beside him, proceeding to loudly demand the 'garson' bring him water. I exchanged an eye roll with Mary, and dined out on her complicit giggle instead.

Ray had been having a terrible time it seemed, they even refused to haggle over prices at the shops like proper third world furs. Everyone refused to speak English for him and seemed to think he was rude.

"Perish the thought..." Mary's little sotto voce response was lost in her Dubonnet, but Ray noticed.

He was about to launch into some cutting reply when Alice, sensing impending doom, pulled him into a tongue-smacking kiss. That seemed to seal the deal as far as the waiter was concerned. I saw him coming over to take our orders, a nice middle aged cat, but at the sight of such debauchery he backed off with a shrug and a string of epithets.

"Ray, you may want to tone down the public affection."

"Just because you don't have some twinky to suck you off, Piggle, doesn't mean everyone else has to deny themselves."

Mary gave a little gasp. Alice laughed, too heartily, and gave Ray a very ostentatious kiss for good measure. I subsided into mumbling.

"Danny didn't mean what he did with that colt... he loves me, don't you see?"

We looked at the old mare, Alice in confusion, Mary with sudden understanding. I sucked on my drink. Danny suddenly sounded like a very interesting dude...

Ray gave me a slap on the thigh and a pinch for good measure. "Well, we are off to find some beach and some waves. So long, suckers!"

I wasn't displeased to see the back of them I had to admit.

Mary seemed thoughtful. "I wondered about Danny, based on what mum started coming out with. Now I know..."

"There's a lot of us around." I tried not to sound bitter.

"Why do you put up with him?"

Her sudden direct question floored me for a moment. I found I couldn't answer well.

"It's complicated. Why do you let Alice push you round?"

"It's complicated."

We decided to toast that with a second round of drinks. Purely for therapeutic reasons.

****

We spent most of the day together, until later that night, I decided to explore more of the city on my own. Mary took her mother back to the ship, and Ray and Alice headed off with them. I caught the tail end of a huge argument between the sisters though; it seemed Mary was adamant that it was her sister's turn to look after their mother, and Alice was not convinced she had any obligations at all.

Ray had sensibly stayed out of the row. Instead, he sucked down beer and gave me a wink.

"Couple of hot mares there, Piggle. Pity you aren't into that... looks like Mary likes you."

I gave him a withering stare. "Do you always think with your dick, Ray?"

"Least I've got one, Piggle..."

I think it was his taunt that made me seek out solace that night. I found it off a back street near the port. Typical, I mused, even as I handed my identification to the blank faced wolf on the door.

Club Homme. Hommes seulement SVP.

The bar area was quiet, with a couple of locals and a few tourists. I desperately avoided eye contact with one guy I recognised: A lion from deck C, some sort of accountant. We gave each other badly needed space, and I took a seat at a little table deep in a corner of the bar and nursed a gin and tonic.

"Bonjour..."

"Bonjour."

The voice was pure honey, deep and rich and melodious. A stallion, with a little salt and pepper in his mane, delicious feathering and a body that was only partly concealed under shorts and a shirt. He looked good enough to eat, and he was talking to me, it seemed. And he even smiled at my response, and his smile went through me like a heat seeking missile.

"Ca va?"

"Comme d'hab."

His smile widened.

"Your French is very good for a tourist, no?"

"Merci."

We spoke in French only, after that. He was called Jean-Paul, and he worked in a warehouse at the port. He was even sexier speaking French. And he liked boars. A lot. I ordered another gin, and he paid. I was feeling extremely warm.

He suggested a walk on the beach to cool down... or heat up again. I almost tripped over my own hooves on my way out the door.

Walking along the foreshore, we headed for a secluded cove near the Meridien Hotel he knew about. I felt immortal, and entirely wicked. Up yours, Ray; I can be a manwhore if I want.

And so could Ray, it seemed.

When we got to the designated spot, the sand held one couple already engaged. I saw the unmistakable silhouette of a hefty ass rising and falling, rising and falling, and my ears picked up the moans and cries at about the same time my nose caught the scents of bull, and mare in heat.

"Ohhh, Ray..."

"Moooooo."

"Harder, Ray."

"Merde."

My stallion looked disgusted. I was merely impressed. I edged closer, wanting that view again. Like in school, I saw it now. The heavy ass, cheeks spread, pucker on view, balls rolling, cock disappearing into a slick snatch, a pair of scrabbling hands digging fingers into his ass hard enough to leave scratches. And under him this time, a mare writhing in heat as she got to feel that magnificent meat deep inside her. I bit my tongue to stifle a whimper.

"Ray, are you round here?" I heard a voice call. "I managed to get one of the pursers to look after mum for a while and came back. I couldn't find Mary. Someone said they saw you heading this way, and--"

I turned to see someone entirely unexpected. Alice had come round the corner by a palm tree, and she was holding it now for balance as she took in the same sight as me, but now I was seeing it as it was instead of how I expected.

The mare under Ray looked up, eyes wide, and I realised it was Mary. My confidant and compatriot. Turned out she had needs too it seemed.

"Mary!"

The mare behind me sounded pissed. Massively pissed. And it wasn't about to get better.

I ended up between them, just as Alice seemed about to go her sister. Ray had managed to pull his pants up again, though his dick tented them out obscenely. Typical. He was edging away trying to bolt, and I pulled him back by his horns. There was no way I was letting the cunt out of this one and leave me alone in the middle of it.

"Why, Mary..." it was Alice asking, but I kind of wanted to know too.

She was crying now, but defiant.

"You are such a selfish filly, Alice. Always were. Well, I wanted some fun too. Is that so much to ask?"

"Yes, but why him!"

"I wanted to see what he was like. And I wanted to show you how much of a louse he was."

Alice tried to make a lunge, and I blocked her, just, at the expense of a hoof on my ankle. It hurt like fuck. The mare seemed to calm then though, as if the fight had gone out of her. She turned and trotted slowly up the beach, her head in her hands.

"Five out of ten for foreplay, by the way. But ten out of ten for louse..."

The comment was a whisper, and a whisper full of regret. I looked at Mary and shook my head. She shrugged.

"Sorry to ruin your night, Troy. He looked cute, by the way."

I swore and turned to the beach, but my stallion had gone. I thought of following his hoofprints, but decided against it. Someone like him could have anyone he wanted, and my window of opportunity had gone.

Instead, I accompanied Mary back towards the ship.

"I guess we all got fucked by Ray tonight." I tried to make it sound light, but I was crying inside. Especially when the mare gave me a hug and a wistful reply.

"Yeah, and ironically, I'm the only one who doesn't really want him to fuck me."

****

When the ship pulled out of harbor the next evening, I had spent most of my time in the bar since we came back. I guessed Ray probably had too, he looked very unsteady on his hooves whenever I saw him. He also had a haggard look I didn't associate with my bull. He always seemed so confident to me. Now that was absent, and it worried me.

After that night on the promenade deck, I had a little nagging doubt growing inside me. And when I took a walk late at night, the doubt had grown.

I tried to sleep, but the memory of Ray fucking the mare in front of me was too much to allow me sleep. I tossed and turned, tormented by memories of them, and of Ray back in school, the way he fucked for me, his audience. And I wondered what the actual fuck had been in his head then, and what was there now.

I also jacked off three times at the memory of his ass and his cock, thick and hard, as it pistoned into the mare. It was even bigger than I remembered from school. And I slid a finger into my ass as I jacked off and imagined it taking my hole. I justified it by telling myself I was just horny after missing out on that stallion, and needed it bad. Truth was, I had a dose of that impossible bull bad, and I didn't know what to do about it.

Out on deck, a cool breeze made it easier to think, and I could watch the islands at the tip of New Caledonia rise and fall off the side of the boat in the darkness, with the moon's silver light illuminating them like props in a play. Beautiful and enticing. Maybe one day I would come back.

"Danny! You need to go inside, my love... someone will find you here..."

I turned to see figures looming out of the dark, and familiar faces. The old mare was looking confused now, her eyes no longer bright. But I was surprised to see her companion this night was my bull.

Ray pushed her to a spot against a bulkhead looking over the sea. He lit up a cigarette, and puffed in desultory fashion, but he also had a bottle with him, and he attacked that in more determined vein. In fact, he knocked down half the bottle in one huge swallow.

"Well, Piggle... nice fucking mess."

"You did it to yourself, Ray. As always."

I expected him to get angry then, but instead he took another swig on the bottle.

"Where are Mary and Alice?"

"Talking. Fighting. I dunno... I just know I wasn't invited. They made me take their fucking mother instead to give them space or some shit..."

I tried hard to supress a giggle. Ray as minder of senior citizens was not something I could quite grasp.

"So who was that horse with you anyway, Piggle?"

He looked keenly. I felt a little embarrassed, and tried to wave it away. "Just a friend..."

"Yeah, just a close personal friend. Ready to put his big horsey cock right close and personal up some Piggle ass, I bet..."

"Don't give me that. You are such a stupid moo, a total bull-child Ray. And a slut. I doubt you ever cared about anyone, so don't lecture me on... oof!"

He had me against the bulkhead then, with a fist gripping my shirt, and a finger on my snout. His eyes were wild, and his nosering flopped as he snorted, and he bared his teeth in a snarl.

"You... know... absolutely... nothing... Piggle..."

Each word was accompanied by a poke on my snout. And it fucking hurt.

"Fine, Ray... tell me..."

He let me drop to the deck again and scowled. I realised he was about to cry. He downed the rest of the bottle and threw it over the side, and I watched it tumble as it headed for the ocean.

"Truth is, Troy, I'm a gigantic fuckup. Half my salary goes on child support... yeah, I've got three sprogs out there, but who's counting. And the one girl I really loved... ahhh, fuck..."

"Was that who was in the picture?"

He looked at me wide eyed then. "How the fuck...?"

"I saw you the first night, after The Party. You had a picture, and you were... not happy." I didn't want to say crying, because it would probably throw his sense of manhood out the window, but he was.

He looked stricken, but nodded. "Yes. Natasha."

It took me a second, and I almost screamed it when it came.

"Natasha... Clemenger?!"

He nodded.

"You... and the school librarian..." I felt like I needed that bottle now.

"We fucked all through my final year at school, but somewhere in there... it felt good, you know? Not just sex, I mean. She was divorced, and a lot wiser than me, and she knew what she wanted, but she was funny, and kind, and smart. A little like you, Piggle. Unlike you, she made me feel like I wasn't just a dumb jock bull though."

I swallowed and let that one slide, but it hit home a little. I had enjoyed making him feel like a dumbo at every opportunity. But only because he made me feel like an inadequate nerd...

"We kept on through uni, but she didn't want it in the open. If the full story came out, she might lose her job. Then... then she moved schools, and I thought we could be together, finally."

"Holy shit!"

"I proposed, and bought her a ring and everything. And I bought us two tickets on a fucking cruise. Irony, hey? I was going to surprise her and make it a special night. But when I got there... turned out she had been seeing a guy, a lawyer, bigshot with money and everything. I was just an amusement after all."

I stroked his headfur, and bit my tongue. The irony was a little too delicious, and he was clearly hurting.

"So... she broke your heart... but Ray, it wasn't meant to be, you know? You were too different, too much between you..."

"Yeah, like Kate Winslett and Leonardo Di Caprio. Fucking fate."

He snorted, and trotted drunkenly to the railing. I watched terrified as he clumsily climbed over and held onto a post, hanging back over the ocean.

"I'm the king of the fucking world, Piggle!"

"Ray! Fucking hell!"

"Woooooooo!"

He let one hand go, then swapped, his body swaying over the ocean.

"Come the fuck back here, Ray!"

"Make me, Piggle! Come and get me!"

"Dammit!"

I headed over the rail, just as he lost his grip for a moment. I felt a drunk bull suddenly wrap his arms round me, just as I was trying to get my balance. I held onto the post, and suddenly my body slammed against the railing, with the full weight of a bull hanging from my waist pulling me down.

"Danny! Be careful!" I heard the mare's voice like it was coming from the bottom of a well. It was kind of hard to hear over the grunting bull, and the sound of the ocean suddenly under my hooves. The scary, wild ocean. A long way down.

"Fuck sake, Ray, get a grip on the railing!"

"Hold on, Piggle... oh shit..."

He made a wild lunge for the railing and missed, and then clutched even more desperately at my waist. The momentum was enough for me, and I lost my grip on the post. I felt the Pacific breeze on me as we fell towards a wine dark sea.

"Fuck..."

It was Ray's sole contribution, but probably his most apt. And then we hit the water.

****

The impact knocked the wind out of me, and other things. I went under water, feeling like I had been hit with a hammer, which I guess I had been in a way. But somehow the embrace of the warm water was not inviting enough, and I found my way to the surface again. I broke into air, and coughed up a large amount of Pacific Ocean, and tried to get my bearings.

Off to my right, I saw the majestic white form of the liner steaming on merrily into the night. It was lit up like a Christmas tree, and looked strangely beautiful. I could hear voices, and music, and laughter, all moving inexorably away.

Then my brain caught a sudden sight of something dark nearby, and I had a moment of panic.

"Ray..."

Swimming as best I could, I got to the bull's side in a few strokes. The waves were not too rough yet, here close to the islands, and I managed to make it quickly enough. He was face up but unconscious, his limbs sort of flapping in the water under the influence of the current. For a second, I feared the worst, but then I saw his muzzle open and his nosering moved to show he was breathing, shallow but regular.

"Ray... wake up!"

No response. I slapped his muzzle.

"Ray, wake up!"

"Mpfgh"

He was going to be no use, I could tell. As always.

"Right... well, the ship should turn round soon. Just hang on."

I moved into a proper lifesaving stroke, supporting the dazed bull as much as possible, and waited for the ship to turn. Or stop. Or anything.

As it grew smaller and smaller, I had to admit we had a slight problem.

"Ray, we need to get to land. Help me, you useless side of beef!"

"Mpfgh..."

I could see the form of a small island off in the distance. It was probably no more than a kilometre, and as long as the current and waves didn't turn against us, I thought we could make it. I needed some help though.

"Ray, you need to kick... use those hooves."

"Mpfff... hate swimming..."

"I know you do, Ray. Just kick."

For someone so athletically gifted, he really had hated swimming in school. It was one area of athletic endeavour I had over him, and I used it when I could to get some sense of parity in our relationship. I even went to a fucking pool party at his invitation once, just to see how he would handle it. I should have known though; he just stood in the shallow end and fucked Sally Rutherford while she sat on the edge, her bikini daintily draped on his horns for safe keeping. Which gave me an idea.

"Ray... Sally... Sally Rutherford. She's naked and horny, and she is at the other end of the pool. You need to swim to her. "

"Mpghh... who...?"

"Oh, for fuck sake, just kick, damn you!"

To his credit, he tried, and I managed to lock my arms round him and guide us both in. The current was working in our favour thankfully, and though I was about to pass out from exhaustion and exposure, I could see the dark mass of the island getting closer and closer.

When my hooves finally scraped sand, I almost cried.

"We can stand up, Ray! We can walk it from here!"

"Mpfghh."

Cursing the whole way, I had to drag the useless bastard to the shore. We lay there, in the shallows, while the ocean slowly receded with the tide, leaving us wet, cold, and above water with rough shells and sand under us. I shivered in the night air, and every muscle in my body hurt from impact with the ocean, but I was alive. I was alive.

"We made it, Ray!"

I kissed him, lost in the joy of the moment, and was stunned when his muzzle opened, and he kissed back.

"Hmmmm."

My last sight was the moon riding high, a silver companion to our little tableau, one boar, one bull, one island. And no ship in sight.

****

I woke to find the sun coming up and the water lapping at my legs.

"Fuck."

Though I had been about to say it, I was beaten to the punch by a certain bull. He was beside me, and as I watched, he managed to get onto unsteady hooves with a lot of groaning and bitching, and staggered up the sand to sit under a palm tree.

I found the pain had gotten worse overnight, and all I could do for now was crawl slowly after him, until I collapsed panting under the palm.

"Thanks for all the help, Ray... after all, I only rescued your stupid ass after you got us to fall off an ocean liner. You pillock."

I couldn't even swear at him well; I didn't have the energy.

"What?"

I turned to look at him, and noticed for the first time his eyes wide and terrified. And something else; they were completely uncomprehending.

"Ray, don't shit with me; I'm not in the mood."

"Who are you? Who's Ray?"

I was about to slap him when his look of complete shock and horror stayed my hand.

"Ray, stop fucking with me..."

"I don't know who you are!"

I blinked at that, and sat back for a moment.

"Do you know who you are?"

He looked wide eyed for a second, then his eyes narrowed in concentration.

"You called me Ray... that sounds familiar."

I let out a big sigh. It was something at least.

"Ray, the impact with the water knocked you out. It looks like it may also have given you some sort of amnesia. Just hang on, it will return I think. Just remember Ray, OK. Ray."

"Who are you?"

"I'm Troy... does that ring any bells?"

He shook his head, and I sighed again. I didn't know what was worse, being a central part of Ray's life, or being suddenly anonymous to my nemesis. Toss a coin on that one.

"Right... well, first we have to get ourselves sorted here."

"I hurt all over!"

I patted his thigh, and he didn't pull away.

"I know... but we have to do this Ray."

We managed to find a nice dry space amongst the palm trees above the beach proper, and a few rocks with indentations that had caught some rainwater. I drank it down greedily, feeling the fresh liquid sooth my throat. Ray buried his muzzle in one small pool and drained it.

He wiped his hand across his muzzle, and his eyes looked a little more with it now, but he still grimaced when he moved. He looked around now, taking in our little tropical paradise, and grunted.

I did not expect him to be eager to take off all his clothes, but both of ours were dripping wet, and we would need them. I stripped and hung them over a tree branch in full sun, hoping to get them dry as quickly as possible. Ray hesitated but followed suit, and then sat on the sand, his knees up to his chest and hands clasped on his ankles. It reminded me of his pose when I caught him on the ship with the picture crying, and it made him look so young and vulnerable. Not to mention being naked. I had to stop myself eyeing him up like a tasty treat; another of my youthful fantasies, a vulnerable young Ray, mine to have. He even had his forelock over his eyes, like I remembered.

"What do we do now?" he spoke hesitantly.

"Explore." Well, maybe it would take my mind off things like naked vulnerable bulls.

It took everything I had to convince him to move, but I managed it by threats to leave him. I had no experience of this Ray, lost, alone, and frightened. And if I was honest with myself, I kind of liked it, or at least how it felt to be the one in charge, with my bull suddenly cast in the role of follower. It helped me deal with the reality of our situation, which in its own way was kind of perilous if I took the time to think about it.

"Come on, Ray... good bull..."

He trotted on docile as a calf. And we explored the little island, as much as we could. It wasn't long before I was pretty much convinced of the seriousness of our situation though; I could find no source of fresh water except the little rock pools of caught rainwater, no food, and no real source of proper shelter. We needed rescue soon or we were fucked.

Late in the afternoon, we returned to our spot by the beach and took stock. It was not looking good.

"Well, we have to assume people will come looking for us. Granny Anne would have seen us going overboard..."

"Who?"

"Never mind, Ray. She will raise the alarm."

I felt it was best not to mention for now the potential problem in that scenario. Just how an old mare with Alzheimers would be believed was something I did not want to contemplate. Nor the even worse possibility: that she might forget it happened at all.

"So... we need to help them find us."

We gathered palm leaves and made a passable "Help SOS" out of them on the sand above high tide in a cove round the headland where the beach was big enough they would not be washed away. Unable to remember anything about making fire, it seemed we were going to be denied smoke signals for now.

As the sun set over the ocean, we sat under the palms and contemplated our fate. Ray had found another pool of fresh water and drunk it all, before he told me about it. I guess that little gesture added a little dash of malice to my thoughts, and explained what happened next.

"I hurt all over."

He had the pose again, sitting on the sand naked, his knees up, rocking gently in the pink glare of the sun, feeling the breeze in his fur.

"I know, Ray. You are lucky you didn't break every bone in your body, in the fall. It will probably hurt a while."

"Fucking hell. Can you do anything?"

He looked at me with big brown pleading eyes, and I melted. And felt a little mischievous.

"Fine, Ray. I guess, as your boyfriend, I have to attend to your needs. But you owe me for getting us into this mess."

"B... boyfriend?"

I laughed at that. Stupid moo.

"Yeah, your boyfriend. You're gay, like me, Ray; why do you think we were on that cruise?"

He blinked, and shook his head with wide open eyes.

"Gay? Boyfriend... oh God..."

It took me a second to realise. The poor lost bull actually didn't know any better. He was clueless.

I suppose I should be condemned for what I did. I can only say that no jury in the world would convict me.

"Yes, Ray... we're a couple. Have been for years."

His muzzle was open, and he looked over my naked form now, taking in my somewhat pudgy body, my modest genitalia, and my rather careworn boar's face. I could tell what he was thinking, and it added an extra dash of pure fucking malice to my mood. Even as a pretend gay, he was a chauvinist oink.

"Ray, you like my body. Remember?"

"I... um... I..."

"I sure as shit know you like me admiring yours."

He got a sudden smile then, and my heart skipped a beat.

"School... I remember you now... watching me in the shower... I showed off for you."

"Yes, Ray... yes you did." Well, now I knew for sure.

"I don't remember being gay."

"Let me help you remember then, Ray. And help you with your aches and pains too."

With a bit of coaxing I got him to lay on the sand on his belly. I had some experience of massage; after all, I needed all the tricks I could get to get guys into bed, so I learned early on how to get a guy nice and relaxed. I used all my techniques on Ray now, trying not to notice how good that muscled body and soft fur felt under my hands.

"Ohhhh..."

I enjoyed the sound of his sigh almost as much as the feeling of his muscles clenching under my touch. I ran my hands up his thighs, applying subtle pressure, finding the bruises under the fur and gently working out the painful knots. He sighed, he moaned, he whimpered, and then as I reached the magnificent mounds of his ass, he let out a hiss and spread his legs wider, and I got to see his huge balls resting on the sand, and he lifted his tail and swished it against my face.

I gave his tail a little yank, and he yelped.

"Careful with that thing, Ray."

"S... sorry..."

Over his butt now, fingers working deep into muscle. I had lost count of the number of times in school I had wanted to get my hands on these. Now it had come true, and I was making up for lost time. I hooked my thumbs into the cleft of his ass and spread nice and wide while he dug his fingers into the sand and moaned, and let the tip of my thumbs slide along his furry taint and over his tightly clenched anus.

"T... Troy... I don't know..."

"Ahhh, but you love me playing with your ass, Ray. Who knows if we will be found in time. Wouldn't you want one last, loving fuck? For old time's sake, my... sweet moo..."

I had to almost stifle a giggle at that. My sweet moo. He was many things, sweet not really amongst them. But if I got a shot at that ass, I bet it would be more than sweet enough, thank you very much.

My body slid over his as I worked over his lower back, then his sides, then his shoulders. I could feel him relax under my touch, and his grunts and whimpers turned to sighs and moans now. My cock had reached full mast, and I rubbed it in his crevice, the fur of those huge butt cheeks tickling my shaft and making my balls dance and boil.

Before I knew what I was doing, I had gripped his muzzle, on the little tuft of fur at his chin, pulled it around, and we were locked in a deep passionate kiss. and I felt his tongue slide against mine and into my muzzle and heard him moan deep in his belly, a sound that I could feel in my chest and my lips and my muzzle and my cock. I almost shot off from the moan and the feel of his ass cheeks clenching on my shaft.

Breaking the kiss, I looked into his eyes, half lidded but still wary.

"Just relax, Ray... let me do the work..."

He pursed his lips and nodded, and then relaxed against the sand. I slid off him and knelt at his hooves, admiring that muscled mass of bull one more time. Gripping his ankles, I spread them wide, opening up his ass, and then bent forward to my prey.

"Ahhh!"

"Shhh, lover..."

He smelt of ocean, and bull musk. Once, in school, I stole his footy jock from his bedroom when I was at his place doing his chemistry homework. I took it home and stuffed my snout in it when I jerked off, bathing in his scent, essence of teenage bull, cum and sweat and musk and ass. He smelt less strong than I remembered, but sweeter, my sweet bull. The ocean taste merged with bull ass, and bull balls, and made it easy.

I lapped at him slowly, taking my time as if savouring a delicious treat, like a fine wine, or an expensive caviar. I was getting pure, virgin, straight stud bull ass, and you could not have a more incredible delicacy.

I started with his balls. I knew he liked them being licked; he told me often enough how much he liked the girls sucking on his balls when they went down on him. Now I showed him what a boar could do, licking those hefty orbs, just on the right spot where I made him cry out and moan. Then between them, at the spot where the base of his cock joined his body, and up over his furry perineum, making that long path of pleasure clench and flutter under my tongue.

Finally, I could deny myself his ass no longer, but even here I took my time. A long slow licking right at the muscled rim, only touching the middle when his pucker was clenching fast and he was letting out little strangled cries. I pressed and stopped, pressed and stopped, and then pressed and felt him clench then open, and I slid my tongue inside that tight hot hole, and my ears filled with his scream.

"Oh fuck... oh fuck... oh fuck..."

He didn't run away, though. He just lay there, and let me at it. Submissive, vulnerable, trusting, just as he had been since we got to the island. And I was the stud for once, determined to make use of it.

I reluctantly left his ass for a second, but it was all too a good cause. My cock was about to burst, and I felt he owed me after I lost out on a stallion back in Noumea. And this time, I felt just wild enough to do something I normally didn't.

"I'm going to loosen you up, Ray... relax your ass, I know you can..."

"Ahhh! Hurts!"

"Shhhhh, relax..."

Two fingers, liberally coated in spit. I had no lube anyway, and besides, I kind of liked the idea of taking him roughly. I topped so rarely, and never without lube. But I wanted him to feel this, right to his core.

He tried, the poor calf. Eventually, he managed it, and I felt his ass spread and slammed my fingers in deeper, stretching his tunnel and drawing a bellow from his muzzle. Then back to hold just the fingertips inside him, then in nice and slow as he felt his hole spreading and the touch of another male on his skin made him gasp. And I felt a nub of flesh and rubbed.

"Oh. fuck!"

"There.... you have such a cute prostate, Ray, always have. Let me make it feel good..."

I pulled up with my fingers, and he responded, lifting onto his elbows and knees, ass raised. I reached under him and gripped his cock. It was so massive, I just rubbed it for a while, loving the heat and the male power, and feeling it throb as I touched his nut.

Then I began hitting his prostate hard, slapping it with my fingers, pressing, rubbing, demanding, as my hand closed on his cock head and rubbed in slow circles.

He was mooing deep, long bellows of pleasure, and cries, and gasps of surprise. His ass clenched so tight, and his cock jerked in my hand, aching for release.

I felt in an evil mood. I stopped, and slid my fingers from his hole. It closed and winked at me, beckoning.

"Ahhh! What are you... what are you doing..."

"Do you want to cum, Ray?"

"Please!"

"Ask nicely."

"Please, Troy."

"Beg." May God forgive me, but I was enjoying this.

"Please, Troy... please make me cum... please... my ass... I want your fingers in my ass..."

I gave him what he wanted. He asked so nicely.

"Ahhh!"

"Nearly, Ray..."

A few more thrusts, a few more strokes, and he came all over my hand and the sand below, a gushing flood of bull spunk. Afterwards, he just stayed in position, panting, his ass still winking at me, and I knew what I had to do.

"Now, lover... hold still..."

I took pity on him a little. He had given me enough cum to act as decent lube, and I smothered it all over my straining cock before I lined up on his virgin hole and slid inside while he grunted and complained.

"Hsss... slow down..."

"You like it rough, Ray... always told me that."

With his tail wrapped around my forearm I pulled it tight, stretching his ass and his taint, and began to fuck. The heat of his ass was incredible, and the tightness... it felt like a vise on my cock, and every time my balls slapped his taint, he grunted and pushed back.

I leant over his body, my chest on his back, and reached under to hold his cock. I had to stop so many times because I was about to blow, and I wanted to make it last. Eventually, I couldn't any longer, and I began to thrust wildly, no longer taking it easy, just wanting to nut so much and jacked his sensitive tip roughly.

My orgasm felt like I had emptied my balls into his ass, along with my soul. I let out a wild boar squeal, and rubbed my tusks on his back, pounding into him long after my cum had finished. My hand felt slick, and I realised he had cum again, a long slow dribble over my fingers as his hole clenched rhythmically on my shaft, and I rested against my big bull and collapsed on him as he collapsed on the sand.

We fell asleep like that, with my cock inside him, and the moon dappling our bodies through the palm trees.

****

When I woke, there was no bull to be found. I looked around, a bit scared, but then I heard him coming through the trees.

He had a big smile on his muzzle, and I could see why. He had found some coconuts.

"Ray... what are we going to do with those?"

He shrugged and pointed into the forest.

"Saw a sharp rock through there. Might try breaking one open?"

I wasn't convinced, but he might as well try. I watched him peel off the rough husk, then smack the smaller core against his chosen rock. The first one resisted his efforts, but the second proved different. He flexed his muscles, and I must admit I whimpered a bit looking at that magnificent bulk, then smack, and the coconut cracked open.

"Fuck... lost most of it..."

I didn't care. There was enough milk in the remaining part for a bit of moisture, and I was even more impressed when the bull shared some with me. It tasted kind of bad, but for now, it was the sweetest thing on the planet.

We sat on the beach again, a couple of coconuts later, Ray looking thoughtfully out to sea. He wasn't curled up in a bull ball now, but had his legs swinging wide, and he was munching on a small palm frond like a straw in contemplative mood.

"Some things have been coming back..."

I went quiet. And still.

"Um..."

"Just fragments here and there. I remember, though..."

"Um...."

"I seem to remember I was the one doing the fucking. I can't remember who, but I guess it must have been you. But I distinctly remember my cock sliding into something beautiful and hot and wet and someone screaming my name."

I relaxed a bit and nibbled some coconut. Then I felt a big hand on my shoulder.

"So... I think it's my turn..."

I felt this was fair after all. And also the font of all my dreams for longer than I cared to remember.

We had one small problem, though. Once I was naked, and on my belly with my legs spread, Ray sat back on his haunches and looked kind of quizzical.

"Forgotten how to do it?"

"Yeah, don't seem to remember..."

"Fingers... then muzzle... then cock..."

He shuffled forward as I held my breath barely able to hope. Then I felt rough bull fingers on my ass, pressing on my sphincter like it was an unexploded bomb.

"You need to press harder, Ray... harder... harder... fuck not that hard!"

He had exerted all his strength in the end and I felt like my ass had been spread by... well, a coconut. Then he pulled out and made me wince... then in again, this time three fingers, and I almost passed out. But he left them in this time, and just tickled my insides, then began to explore with his fingers.

I felt he needed a bit more help.

"Ray... pull out for a second..."

I turned onto my back. After all, I could guide him better this way, and well, watching him take my ass was going to be so worth it.

"Now, lift my legs over your shoulders... like that... and now try again... gently..."

I watched his look of amazement grow. The feel of my ass on his fingers was clearly getting to him, but he wasn't stopping, and I lay back and sighed a sigh of pure contentment as he found my prostate, and my cock slapped my ample belly with a loud thud.

"Right there, champ..."

He seemed fascinated by the effect on me, ramming his arm forward, eyes wide and staring at my cock as I spat gobs of precum on each new rough penetration and leg out squeals of delight.

"Now... muzzle..."

He bent forward, totally lost. I gripped his horns, and guided him down to my cock. His little muzzle opened, and he licked, tentative, and then opened wider and sucked my cock head into his muzzle.

I used his horns to guide him. Down... until he struggled a little. Then back up until I could see his tongue on my tip, and I wanted to cum so bad. Down again, a little further. Eventually, I managed to get him to deep throat me, his breath huffing into my pubes, his lips on my base, tongue lapping at my shaft. Then his fingers thrust one more time, and I unloaded into his muzzle.

It was probably a bad thing to do, and he tried to take it all, but I had been aching for this for so long, I let off the biggest cum of my life. It was too much for a novice like Ray, and most of it spilled out onto my groin and onto the sand. He kept licking, though, and I had to push him off as his tongue was driving my oversensitive cock nuts in the aftermath of such an orgasm.

"N... now... lick my ass, Ray..."

His broad tongue slid over my scrotum, and he pulled his fingers out and replaced them with his muzzle, lips on my taint, and tongue zeroed in on my hole. He speared me in one deep thrust, and I bucked against him, pushing him deeper, the feel of his tongue invading me only to be surpassed by one thing to come.

When he lined up with my ass, clenching in anticipation as much as fear at his size, I felt his mammoth head pressed to me, and he looked into my eyes with pure lust. I knew this wasn't going to be gentle, but by now I didn't care.

He took it easy, in the sense there was no rough thrust. More just one long, deep, continuous penetration from the moment his head spread my pucker and made me cry out to the moment he bottomed out in my depths, and I felt the pulse in his cockhead deep inside my guts. I felt bull all around me, his muzzle on mine, a long deep moo drawn from his chest as he rested in my body,

I was babbling before too long, begging for it harder, longer, crying his name, my fingers scrabbling at his ass trying to pull him deeper as he pounded my ass as methodically as he used to pound the weights in the gym.

"Ohhh, fuck so good, Ray..."

"Hmmmm."

"Bet I feel better than Natasha..."

He stopped. I opened my eyes. His were cloudy, and then a little flicker of light began to grow.

"Natasha..."

"Shhh, keep fucking me, big boy..." Oh fuck, why had I let myself get so carried away?

"Calling my name... while we fucked.... a doe, she clawed my ass just like this, and told me she loved me, and I told her the same..."

"Ray... focus..." I could see it like a tide rolling over his face, realisation, dawning comprehension, then the anger and the disgust.

His muzzle set in a grim line, and he pulled out, sitting back on his haunches on the sand with his knees up again. And he was not a happy bull.

"Ray..."

"What, Piggle?"

I swallowed. "Um, Ray... are you..."

"It's coming back now. Natasha... Natasha... and you, Piggle. Wanted this all through school, didn't you, Piggle. And even now it seems..."

"Ray, please, take it easy..."

"You enjoy getting what you wanted?"

"Ray, please, don't do yourself an injury. After all, you liked showing off for me..."

He let out a bellow then, and suddenly I had a bull on my case. He gripped my arm and threw me on the sand, face down. I felt his bulk on me.

"Yeah, you liked watching me fuck, didn't you, Piggle."

I could only squeak an affirmative.

"You... you liked me watching, Ray..."

He pushed my head into the sand. I felt the end might be near, and I begged a little.

"Please, Ray... tell me you didn't enjoy it a bit."

His snort was expressive. But I also felt his body over mine, and the unmistakable feel of a bull cock in my crevice. And it was still achingly hard.

"Truth, Piggle? I wondered what it might feel like, back then. But now... now, I just owe you one. Hope you like it, Piggle..."

He rammed into me with all the power of a full grown bull. I let out a gasp, but he wrapped his big arms around me, under and round my chest, with one big mitt clamped over my muzzle, and he rested his muzzle against my ear.

"Hold on, Piggle... and try to relax."

His body moved with incredible force and power, and I lay under him helpless as he pummelled my ass. I felt raw, split wide open and filled like never before, and I held on for my life. But it also felt amazing, and as his cock tore at my ass, I felt the rough passage of erect bull over my skin and responded. My cock sprang to life again, rubbing into the sand, and I came, squealing in my orgasm as he laughed into my ear and kept on fucking.

He had fucked three cums from my shaking body before he finally let out a bellow, and I felt my ass filled with heat, and then he lay still, gasping for breath, as I lay under him, a puddle of cum against my belly, a mass of shuddering bull against my back.

When he pulled out roughly, I screamed again. My ass felt like it had been sandpapered, and I doubted it would ever be the same again, but I also knew my bull would never be the same again.

He gave me a look, one with tears brimming in his eyes, and then he turned and ran along the beach.

"Ray!"

In spite of the pain it caused, I felt I had to go after him. He had gone left, towards the beach we had left our SOS on, and I followed slowly, rounding the little headland just in time to see him standing there looking out to sea.

"Ray!"

He didn't look at me. But he did point.

Out to sea, a small boat appeared, and it headed straight for us. I moved next to my bull, holding him and resting on his shoulder. He relaxed a little and let me, and we watched the boat come into the shore.

And on the boat, amongst several figures, was one I recognised.

The stallion was grinning ear to ear when he made it to the beach, wading through the shallows. He waved back to the crew and came up to us and hugged us both.

"I am so glad to see you both, monsieur. When the captain of the liner reported you overboard near New Caledonia, I feared the worst. They took so long to report it... well, it did not look good monsieur. But when a plane spotted your SOS on the beach, I knew I wanted to be the one to check it out..."

I collapsed into his arms then, horribly grateful, even as my ass burned like fire.

He bent and whispered in my ear.

"Err, monsieur... you may want to put some clothes on. And, I thought your bull friend was straight... pardon, but I smell bull spunk on you..."

"I think he may have forgotten."

The stallion looked confused, as much as Ray, when I broke into great gales of laughter. But I headed towards our little base and my clothes, and Ray followed with the stallion.

I looked back, and saw the stallion watching my ass with a smile. It felt almost good enough to make up for the scowl on Ray's muzzle.

I sighed and dressed.

"One miracle at a time."

*****

We were taken to the hospital in Noumea for observation. I didn't realise how dehydrated I was, or how much damage I had done falling off the boat. Or how much had been done by a rutting bull, when he let himself go.

Unsurprisingly, we were minor celebrities. I found my bull strangely reluctant to take the limelight though. In fact, he told the staff curtly that he was not interested in interviews, and that was enough for the doctors to call a halt to any attempt by the newshounds to try. Except for one specially ingenious attempt by an English tabloid, where they dressed one of their reporters up as a nurse.

The medical staff twigged and sent the "nurse" to wash bedpans until the police arrived. After that, we had some peace.

I shared a room with my bull, separated by a curtain. By the first night, I had started to feel more alive, thanks to a drip, some painkillers, and a wink and a smile from a cute orderly wolf with a wicked set of pecs under his scrubs. There was no word from Ray, though, and feeling more in control, I decided it was time to face the music.

When I pulled back his curtain, I found the bull curled up staring at the wall, he didn't turn to look at me, and I stood there waiting him out.

"Ray..."

"Not one word, Piggle. Not one word."

"Ray... I'm..."

He rose from the bed in one motion, and managed to connect a decent left hook with my snout. I think he dislodged a tusk, and I reeled backwards, waiting for the next hit, but instead I looked up to see him looking defeated. He lowered his fist and dropped his gaze to the floor.

"Sorry, Piggle Wiggle."

I rubbed my jaw. It seemed in one piece, and at least I was in a hospital.

"I would have thought after all this you could at least call me Troy, finally."

That got a smile at least.

"Fine. Troy. I guess on the one hand, I owe you for saving my life."

"And for you getting us in the water in the first place. No more Titanic moments, beefy."

He held up his hand in surrender.

"So I guess you remember it all now, Ray?"

He nodded, and looked awkward.

"Yeah."

"Ray... if you want to talk about stuff... like Natasha..."

His look was enough. I backed off, but at least it seemed his anger had dissipated enough that I wasn't in immediate danger of death.

"Well... about the island, Ray..."

"Troy, nothing happened. Do you get me? Nothing happened, we did not do anything, and we definitely did not..."

He put his head in his hands. I gripped his shoulder, daring a little, but also concerned. He didn't pull away.

"Did you really wonder, back in school..."

His voice came from a long way away.

"Yes. But it was only curiosity. I don't want to... I mean..."

"It's OK, Ray."

"Nobody at work, I mean, nobody can know..."

I nodded, a little wistful, but mostly relieved. I didn't think either of us was ready for that. "No problem. I don't think anyone really would believe it."

He gave me a wistful smile. "Yeah. After all, I have a certain reputation to uphold. As do you, Piggle."

He gave my tusks a rub, and a smile broke out on his muzzle for the first time since we had been found.

"Did it feel good fucking me, Ray?"

He gave an enigmatic smile, and instead changed the subject.

"I bet they are loving your Karaoke performance back at work, Piggle."

I waved him away, but he persisted. "You should let it out more, Piggle."

"I thought you didn't want me like that, Ray."

We at least had the curtain open now. But not for long, as I noticed a figure waiting in the room, his little nickers of impatience drawing my gaze.

Jean-Paul was dressed in denim shorts, a simple shirt, and nothing else. He had the look all right, and he also had a huge grin on his muzzle.

"It is good to see you well, monsieur."

Ray gave a snort, looking at the stallion with frosty dismissal quite out of place in this tropical climate.

"And you too, monsieur... you are looking much better than when I last saw you..."

Ray was suddenly very preoccupied in a newspaper, which was funny given it was French. He just went right on pretending to read though.

The stallion drew the curtains, and I was alone, or as alone as I could be in a hospital ward separated by thin cotton from a straight bull I had fucked. And his hands felt amazing on my aching body, and on my cock. We kissed, and I felt the hand on my tip, stroking in agonizing circles over nerve endings on fire.

"Ahhhh... ahhhh... ahhhhh..."

"Oh, for fuck sake, Piggle."

I heard his angry snort and felt twice as hot, knowing he could hear us. Whether it was disgust or jealousy, I didn't care. I had his measure, and he had mine. And that stallion's hand felt incredible. Then I heard him fumbling with something, and a tingle of a bell.

The curtain pulled back, and a stern looking nurse glared at us both.

"Monsieur... your blood pressure..."

It was still raised when Jean-Paul left, giving me a kiss on the tusks. I had a monumental hardon, and a tingle on my lips that left me breathless.

"Hope you enjoy the blue balls, Piggle."

"I am..."

And if I relieved the condition with memories of taking the bull's virgin cherry, he only had himself to blame.

****

I knew it was probably a pointless journey, but I felt I had to make it. The door looked nice, boring but nice, the sort of door I expected to be on an apartment that Ray would choose to live in. It was a glass and steel building with glass and steel people, and Ray had snaffled a unit on the corner on the eleventh floor.

He opened the door and frowned, but at the sight of what I had in my hands he motioned me to enter. I had made sure to bring booze, and lots of it. I knew my Ray now, and I knew his predilections.

He poured two generous measures and downed one in a gulp.

"So, Piggle... back to reality."

"Yeah, Ray. Not the South Pacific is it?"

"That it definitely is not. Tell me, Piggle... did you get to hook up with that stallion when they discharged us?"

"I don't kiss and tell, Ray, but let me just say, he thanks you profusely and in French for loosening my ass up sufficiently to take his horsecock."

I took a perverse pleasure in seeing his expression, the manifestation of 'ewwwww' in bull muzzle.

"Enough, Piggle... enough..."

"Call me Troy, or I tell you how he smelt bull jizz when he went down on my ass."

"Fine... Troy... dude... please... mercy..."

We sat and watched football, and talked about everything but what we needed to. So I decided to cut to the chase.

"Ray, I got an email from Mary."

He looked suddenly interested. I could see it in his tail, the way it swished in small circles.

"Oh?"

"She felt pretty bad about what happened, and it seems Alice still holds a candle for you."

"She does?"

"And their mother keeps asking after me apparently, but that isn't much to write home about."

He smiled at that. "I can't believe it took them that long to listen to the old bird. Though it wasn't made easier by her calling you Danny. Ahhh, the mysterious Danny... sounds like he was something of a cad."

"Yes Ray, but you don't have to be."

His expression was thoughtful. I decided to strike while I could.

"Ray, Alice is a nice mare. And she thinks a lot of you, even after all the shit you pulled."

"Hey, ease up, Pig... Troy."

"You don't have to be this guy, Ray. Not if you don't want to. You can settle down, and see if someone actually loves you, and maybe, just maybe, they won't betray you, given the chance, so you don't have to get in with it first."

He was standing now, the bottle forgotten. His nosering bounced, and his horns seemed to swivel. I mentally checked my health insurance, assuming I was in for another left hook.

Our little tableau was interrupted by the bell.

I gave him a look. "Expecting anyone, Ray?"

The door opened to reveal a uniformed badger and a nice looking cheetah girl in a suit. The badger looked embarrassed, the cheetah had a smile plastered on her muzzle. Both practically stood at attention as they were ushered into the room. The cheetah seemed to be doing the talking.

"Mister Morgan? And... Mister Cartwright? This is a spot of luck seeing you both at once."

Ray looked dismissive, and he poured another drink.

"Yeah, don't think it happens all the time. Piggle is not my kind of mate. So, what can I do for you two?"

The cheetah's smile became if anything more plastic, even as it got wider. She cleared her throat.

"Um... I am the general manager of Ophir Cruises for the Pacific, and this is Captain Ryan. We came here tonight to, err, apologise for our part in your ordeal, Sir. We hope you understand that the reason it took so long to mount a rescue was due to the witness being... well..."

Ray had the good grace to wave his hand. I was not feeling as charitable, but wanted to see what they would say.

"Go on..."

Out came an envelope, and an even bigger smile.

"As a gesture of goodwill, we would like to offer you both, a complimentary, first-class, all-expenses berth on the cruise of your choice in the next 12 months. You will be our guests, both of you together, if you like. We want you to have the experience you should have had first time, this time... errr... is he all right?"

The cheetah looked at me, while I looked at Ray. He had begun coughing at the mention of another cruise, and reached for the bottle, which he was in the process of downing in one gulp. I gave her a reassuring pat on the paw.

"It's OK, ma'am. He loves the idea. He is just... remembering all the new experiences from last time, that's all."

He needed a fresh bottle after they left, but I didn't begrudge him.