Desperate Times, Desperate Measures

The bar was stuffed full, people dancing and mingling wall to wall, packed like sardines. Several groups of ladies were scattered all about, low-cut shirts and high-up skirts leaving very little to imagination. This was it, the perfect hunting grounds! Mark made his way through the crowds, slithering and occasionally pushing his way to the bar, the 21-year old deer doing his best to pay attention to any female gazes that might fall onto him. He was dressed rather casually, a simple pair of jeans along with his "nice" t-shirt, the plain shirt fitting his form rather nicely, giving a good preview of his athletic body as it hugged tightly against his fur. He wasn't a muscled Adonis or anything like that, but he was pretty fit, even had a bit of a six-pack showing. His back was a light brown, specks of white dotted here and there, while his chest and neck was snow-white. His head was crowned by a fairly nice set of antlers, not amazingly large when compared to most of his peers, but thankfully the intricacies of antler aesthetics weren't something that most other species were well-versed in, so he could stand proud as he marched along. All in all, he was a decently good catch, a solid 7/10, maybe even leaning towards an 8 after a few drinks. But even though he wasn't half-bad in terms of looks, Mark had gone through a bit of a dry spell lately, mostly just because he had been busy with his studies and work. He was never big on one-night stands, but his busy schedule also made looking for anything more serious quite difficult. But everyone has a breaking point, a man can only go for so long without a proper release, his hands were just about cramping at the amount of wood they had to handle on a daily basis. So, after a few recommendations from his friends, Mark had decided to leave for a hunt this Friday evening, hoping to bag himself a tight young piece to breed. The bar was the trendy place to be in this town, and, at least according to his best friend, the ladies here would drop their panties at the wink of an eye. 

Mark did his best to look suave as he walked across the place to the bar, at least as suave as you can be while occasionally getting jabbed with an elbow or three. He could swear at least a few of the ladies there were making eyes at him, making sure to flash a sinfully playful smile at each of them. Or should the smiles have been playfully sinful? Mark knew he was at best a little bit rusty when it came to the pick-up scene, but he wasn't too worried. The night was still young, he'd get a few glasses of the ol' social lubricant down his throat, that'd get him nice and relaxed, ready to take on the whole city! He leaned up against the bar, waving at the bartender to make an order. Even though he had to nearly scream his throat sore just to cut through the thumping noise of the music, he eventually did manage to get his drink, starting the night off gentle with a simple bottle of beer. He sipped his beverage, turning around and casually leaning back against the bar, scanning the place for any hotties that he could conquer. After about an hour and another beer, Mark declared the passive strategy to be unfit, having not even a singular woman taking the bait of his alluring gaze from the bar. He'd have to go on the offence and leave the safety of his little spot on the bar, though first he'd need some fuel for his blitzkrieg, a nice shot of whiskey to tamp down any nerves that might start fraying up. With a nice, warm buzz, he was ready to embark, his first target being the belle of the ball: an absolutely gorgeous raven wearing an extravagant white dress, an aura of passion and warmth surrounding her. While everyone else was getting shoved and bumped all around, people simply let her through without any troubles as she moved about the floor, splitting the masses like the red sea. Taking a few deep breaths to calm himself, Mark stepped up to her, their eyes meeting amongst the crowd of people. He opened his mouth to ask if she'd dance with him, and she replied... with a little giggle before turning back to speak with her friend. Making the walk of shame back to his spot on the bar, the deer's cheeks were burning red, hoping that another shot or three might extinguish those fires. 

The night dragged ever onwards, hour after hour passing by, the floor thinning out by the minute as people left the bar, most with a partner at his or her side. Mark however had no such luck, his suggestions and propositions getting shot down left and right, woman after woman turning him down. He could see as his options were getting more and more limited, what used to be a veritable sea of potential lays was now just scarcely populated wasteland, only a handful of ladies left at such an hour. It had just turned three in the morning, and Mark hadn't even gotten to the first base, let alone scoring a home run. Dejected and radiating gloom, he sat down at the bar, ordering one more shot to wash down his shame with, before he'd head home and give his reliable leftie some more love. As Mark waited for the bartender to get to him, a figure sat down on the seat next to his. He glanced at the newcomer, thinking it was odd to sit right next to him, since practically the whole bar was empty. What faced him was a lion, spectacularly tall, a beautifully groomed and magnificent mane on his head, his golden fur disappearing into a painfully tight black shirt and jeans, his garments leaving nothing ambiguous. Every defined muscle and curve practically shone through, the shirt at least a size or two too small for the big guy, leaving his navel open for all. And the less mentioned about his crotch the better, the poor man must be signing soprano based on how his frank and beans were getting squeezed, his endowment apparent for all to see by the bulge on his jeans.  Looking closer, he also seemed on the older side, probably mid to late 40s, though the deer wasn't extremely familiar with lions, so an accurate guess was difficult. Mark realised he was staring at the man, a grin on the lion's face as the two crossed gazes. The deer quickly swivelled his head back into the other direction, a familiar heat rising onto his cheeks once more. But no matter how much he focused on idly reading the labels of the miscellaneous bottles on the shelf in front of him, he could feel the lion's stare burning a hole right through him, a few drops of sweat forming on his brow.

A large hand emerged from the side of Mark's field of view, the lion holding a paw up for a handshake. The man opened his mouth, a deep and booming voice, slick with emotions carrying into the deer's ears, "Heya boy, this your first time here? The name's Clive." Mark turned to the man, grabbing the hand as he spoke, "Uhh... hey. I'm Mark." He was amazed at just how much larger the lion's hand was, him seeming like a lady compared to the beast. And Clive's grip matched his size, the deer almost wincing in pain as the two shook hands, the lion smiling from ear to ear. Just then the bartender came to check on Mark, him about to order his drink before the lion opened his mouth first, "I'll have a white Russian, he's having a whiskey, I'll pay for both of the drinks." The deer stammered for a few seconds, before Clive laughed, putting his hand on Mark's shoulder, "You've had some shitty luck tonight, the least I can do is pay for your drink." He moved his hand from the shoulder onto Mark's thigh, slowly moving it downwards, "Though I could do a lot more for you as well." The deer almost jumped from his seat, scooting away as he sputtered, "No! No, I'm... I'm not gay. Thanks for your offer, but I don't fancy guys." "You sure? 'Cause you were definitely checking me out there, and I've got a lot more I could show you." The lion's words were slathered with lust, his eyes seductively staring at his prey, the older man knowing exactly what buttons to push to drive the desperate deer to the edge. And it was working, to Mark's surprise. He truly hadn't ever had a sexual thought about another man, but the lion's paw rubbing on his thigh, the extended dry season he'd gone through, and the drinks he'd already had today were really working up a storm in his pants, his pants swelling up in the front already. Suddenly he could feel Clive's muzzle on his neck, a wide tongue licking his fur all the way up to his ear, sharp teeth giving him a very gentle nip. The hand moved from his thigh to his crotch, massaging his rapidly growing package, as he heard a whisper in his ear, "C'mon boy, my house ain't more than a few minutes away, I'll get us a taxi." Clive slammed the rest of his drink, Mark half-hesitantly following suit, before tagging along with the lion out of the bar, the coherent part of his brain screaming to just get out while he still could and drown his disappointment out with some lube and his computer like any normal man would. But at this point his desperation was way too large for his coherent half to control his body, Mark's horns may not be too impressive, but he sure was horny. 

With the night starting to wind down, taxis were thankfully not in short supply, Clive able to flag one down almost immediately after the two stepped out of the bar. They crammed into the back-seat, the lion leaning forwards to give the driver the address, and they drove off. As soon as the taxi had taken off, Clive put his hand on Mark's cheek, turning the muzzle to face his, and leaned in for a kiss, his tongue pushing into the deer's mouth. Mark tried to let out a protest of some sort, but could only moan with the lion exploring his maw. He was always used to being the leading one in a kiss, not too many women who'd take that role with a man, so the experience was very different. The noises Clive made were also unmistakeably male, but his magic worked nonetheless, Mark's cock fully erect in his jeans and leaking precum into his boxers. He felt the lion's large hand stroking his length over his jeans, him only hoping that the driver wouldn't remember his face come tomorrow morning. After about five minutes of driving, the taxi stopped, Clive pulling away from the deer to hand the driver a bill. Mark was much less casual though, flushed and nervous as he stepped out of the taxi, following close behind the large lion. 

Clive led the young deer up to his place in the apartment block, a small but neat little place, decorated in a very modern fashion. He grabbed Mark's hand, pulling him along into the living room, a cozy black sofa in the middle with a small coffee table in front. He pulled him into another passionate kiss, moaning into his mouth, before pushing him down onto the sofa. Mark landed with a quiet thud, Clive ducking down between his legs, the lion's large hands deftly undoing his jeans, pulling them and the boxers down enough for his cock to flop up, flinging a few droplets of precum onto his shirt. With a wide grin, Clive dragged his rough tongue from Mark's base all the way up to the very tip, before swallowing the whole length in one go, drawing moans and grunts from Mark. He suckled and swallowed, letting his experienced tongue dance all over the pole in his mouth, enjoying the steady stream of musky precum shooting into his mouth. He knew the deer was very close from the ragged and rapid breathing, so he very quickly pulled back, the cock shiny from his saliva. He undid his pants, pulling them off and throwing them into some corner of the room, letting Mark's eyes take in his erect cock. He was probably nearly twice as big as the boy, a few drops of his precum smearing onto Mark's thighs. He gently nudged Mark onto laying back on the sofa, him clambering on top, his knees on both sides of the deer as their dicks rubbed together. He laughed and grabbed both of them with one hand, grinding them together with a few strokes. "You ready to pop your cork, son?", Clive said as he scooted forwards, Mark's shaft rubbing up between his asscheeks. "W... wait! I don't have a condom on!" Clive only laughed, grabbing his own cock with one hand while guiding the deer's tip against his pucker with the other, "We don't need any rubber, you cum inside of me or you ain't cumming at all."

Mark's cock slipped inside of the lion's tailhole with ease, with it still lubed up by Clive's blowjob. He hadn't really messed around with much anal play before, besides some occasional and light fingering with one girl or another here and there. The feeling of the lion's warm asshole squeezing around his shaft as it slowly sunk deeper and deeper was intoxicating, and very soon he was balls deep. Clive started riding the deer, moaning and grunting as he brought his ass up and down, jacking off his own dick as he did so, dripping all over the boy's chest. Mark shut his eyes and did his best to try and ignore the huge cock in front of his face as well as the very deep and manly sounds coming from his partner's mouth, while Clive found much enjoyment out of watching the straight and desperate boy's face as he rode the poor thing. He knew Mark wouldn't last long, so he didn't hold back at all, grinding and gyrating to milk the deer dry, and with the amount of huffing he was hearing, it definitely seemed he was close to his goal. Mark grabbed the lion's thighs, thrusting up as deep as he could get, before letting the dam break as he was bottomed out. Rope after rope of cum unloaded into Clive's ass, more than a week's worth of seed pumped deep into his gut. As he felt the warm flood in his ass, he threw his head back and let loose as well. A shot of cum splattered all over Mark's muzzle, dripping down into his lips, though he was too lost in a haze of lust to care about anything except shooting his seed deep in the hole he was buried in. His shirt was quickly getting painted more and more white as his balls pulsed, cum leaking all over his crotch from the lion's tailhole. 

After several minutes of grunting and pumping, Mark was starting to come down from his high, panting as he tried to catch his breath. Clive gave one more satisfied grunt as he pulled off of the cock, large strings of cum dripping down as well as soon as the head popped out. He grinned as he squatted and gave a little push, a flood of sticky seed squirting out onto the deer's crotch and chest. He then lied down on top of Mark, purring with satisfaction, giving the boy's cheek a slow lick before nuzzling his muzzle against Mark's, closing his eyes. The deer was utterly spent, just having one of the most draining orgasms of his life along with it being almost five in the morning and being very drunk. He couldn't open his eyes even if he tried, content on only feeling his partner's heavy body lying on top of him, hearing the lion's growling breaths as the man quickly fell asleep. He had no idea if anyone saw the two walking out of the bar, if anyone recognised him. His mind was scrambled, not really being able to process the whole thing, most likely regretting the whole thing once he'd wake up in the morning. And worst of all, his best t-shirt was utterly soaked in cum, Mark only being able to hope that it'd still clean up fine once he got back home. But he'd leave all that for the morning, for now he was happy to just lie there and fall asleep.