Kindr, Tindr... For kids!

Or rather, those that were looking to fuck or be fucked by said kids. A sleazeball app from some dark corner of the net that took hold on the kinds of phones you weren't afraid to slag or toss off the side of the freeway. Dimly illuminated faces swiping right on any available piece of tail nearby. 

It was parents, coaches, teachers, priests, and even the stray orphan or far too curious cub. Particularly, a cub. A young teen that looked like he was barely beyond grade school let alone a freshman in highschool. Remote learning had made him bored. Idle hands got up to no good... and that's exactly what he was up to now.

The boy stood five-foot on his toes. Weighed about as much as a sack of wet potatoes and could best be described as a trollop. You'd never know as he stood on the back of cold-blue lit bus. His dark green hoodie covering him to the thighs, strings drawn close to keep the heat in on a cold February evening.

The bus trundled on into the city, picking up what was probably third-shift suburbanites and youthful ne'er-do-wells. The dead-eyed bus driver up front caring little save for hoping that no one shit or puked on her bus. It was always the worst kinds out at this hour.

The terminal was still alive, the bars were open against everyone's better judgement and tinted window vehicles rolled in and left with passengers. Some for drugs, some for sex, some just 'cause they were finally heading home after a long day. 

His glittering green eyes scanned brightly lit procession. Why was a kid out here and why did he seemingly not have pants on? Surely it wasn't warm enough yet for just fur below the balls. Dark red sedan, keyed back door, soccerball on the aerial. 

There it was, the white furred hand was visible from just inside the windshield. He got in the front, childlocks were in the back. "John." he said as they rolled away from the terminal. The drive was silent, whether or not 'John' was his real name didn't matter. The fact that there was a carseat in the back didn't matter. It was kind of disappointing to not be ogled or groped along the way. Something that made the young lynx's skin crawl as much as it excited him.

It was a respectable by motel standards affair. At least the sign lit up and there was no awkward checkin. They rolled to a stop in front of a ground floor room and stepped free of the vehicle. The parking lot wasn't nearly as well lit. The overhead lamps seemingly just not been serviced yet, shame. That'd make it harder to identify those coming and going.

The boy followed behind John The Rattist. A tall seemingly whitefurred professional. His shirt was clean, his jeans were tidy. This wasn't some sleazeball grease-pig looking for a restroom romp. The motel room was already prepared. Scary. The kind of guy that gutted you from cock to neck and jizzed in your guts. Hopefully not. He'd ruin his clothes.

"Can you get back on your own?" he asked. The lynx shrugged. "Bus ain't far and I'm sure I can make do until the next one home." there'd be plenty of time. The older rat seemed stiff. He couldn't be older than thirty. He knew he was a boy, right? It had happened a few times, it was always amusing seeing their look of horror as they saw a boys cock push out from under the skirt.

The hoodie came off with one smooth motion. The zipper revealing a tarted up young boy in a short red skirt, tank top and a thin black leather choker around the neck. His shoes he left by the door. Shame he couldn't wear the socks out. But, John insisted he be discrete as possible so... "Do you want to pla-" "No." he said curtly. Then why bother even hooking up? "Sorry, no." he said softer this time. "I... Don't want to be awake. This is for... Later." he continued stiffly. 

Okay, so he was expecting some sort of lonely closet dad. Who was this for, exactly? "Camera's over there. Try and get a good angle." he didn't need to wonder anymore. The booze and small orange bottle weren't for him, they were for the rat. Was he going to watch this guy off himself? "When you fuck me. If you can, can you get your cumshot up close?" Okay, this was just plain weird. 

It seemed like masturbation but with far more annoying and complicated steps. "Uhh, Okay. You're not going to like... die are you?" he shook his head. "Take booze if you want. But, leave the pills and there's cash in the wallet. Leave me enough for breakfast and the camera over there." 

The rat turned away and stripped down to just a jock. "Could you step out? Eat some chips, cars unlocked." feline curiosity was a hell of a drug. The boy donning his hoodie again and stepping out. The heavy door closing but not before a shakey sigh not unlike a sob was cut off with a dull thud. 

The droning buzz of overhead phosporous tubes crackled in the still night air. It must be after midnight. The vending machine had nothing of value, a bag of pretzels, condoms, energy drinks in the one beside at least. Whrrrthud. He wandered back over to the car, getting in and kicking the seat back.

What a weirdo. Whatever, he was here, he could get cash and fuck off. But, how often do you get to fuck someone whose drugged themselves? Should he use the condoms? He was supposed to get a cum shot. He looked clean. The car was filled with domestic dad vibes. Single, maybe? The keyed back door seemed likely. Broken homes, broke-back. "How long does it take someone to drug themselves out anyway?" he wondered aloud, saying the words to bring some sort of gravity to them.

he waited an hour, the moon drifting lazily across the sky. Drink consumed, pretzels a bag on the floor, condoms... Left behind. He stepped out of the car. Shit, he forgot the key. A couple knocks, waiting, nothing. Fuck, he's out already. He shuffled off to the front desk. Goat out front was just as dead-eyed as the bus driver. "Hey, I need a new key for twelve. I forgot mine and dad's already fallen asleep." he only grunted, something about him spoke of disbelief. He didn't seem to care, or want to. He handed the key off and the boy left the lobby. 

It was still fully lit. There was porn on the TV, from the rat himself or just on after-hours. No, gay porn. It was the rat. He sniffed in mild derision, as though closetted would be the thing that offends the young lynx. "Okay. Guess we're doing this, huh?" he asked the shallow breathing body. He was passed out on his face. Good call. At least he wouldn't choke on his own vomit. 

The camera was hand-held. Small. Expensive. He futzed with it, external, blank, internal, blank. No faces. He set it up on the corner of the bed facing the rat. His bare-white ass with its pink tail between his legs. How modest. The boy stripped down entirely, sitting at the bottom edge of the bed watching two young men go at it. A twink of a cheetah and a thick-cut slab of wolf. 

He started to jerk off. He had time. The next bus wouldn't be for a few hours. He watched as cheetah with his tail in the wolf's meaty mitt was stuffed to the knot, a thin sheen of a condom over it. His own barren cock stood at a respectable five inches, a little chubby. More than enough to put more than one guy to shame and it looked massive on his young, lithe frame. The boy started to leak. It was time. 

He turned the TV off. The passed out man was still breathing, that was a relief. He fiddled with the camera. Red dot, recording. He zoomed in, framed the literal scene of a crime and set it down near the TV. It felt weird spreading the man's legs. They were muscled, someone who probably met incentives at work in some IT firm to combat the fat nerd image. The tail was pulled to the side and he wondered, the mechanics were beyond him. Usually if he was going to fuck someone they did their share of the work. Here he was figuratively dead to the world and just wanted some fucked up wank-bank material.

He perevered. His cock responded to the imminent fuck about to happen. Drooling precum onto the rat's ass. Wonder if he wants something kinky? Would it ruin his home movie to have the boy lick his asshole first, eat him out? Probably. This guy just wanted to get his asshole filled. But, the boy liked fucking with people and there was booze right there for after so... He hoisted him up as best he could. Dead weight. He reached forward and grabbed the pillows, stuffing them under the older man's now obviously cum-filled jock. It smelled like sweat and semen. Must have been hard cumming with all that junk in your body. 

He was satisfied, a little breathy. It was hard moving someone that was probably twice the size of you in every possible way. Even that jock seemed stuffed to the nines. "Here we go." he said quietly, the propped up ass exposing the tight, dry ring. He'd not been playing back there, huh? The boy nosed in, his dark skin pressing just underneath the thick tail, his mouth opening to drool onto the heat of him. It was sharp with sweat. His tongue dripping with saliva as he expected the astringent taste. He wasn't wrong. 

His hands spread and squeezed the guy's ass. He could appreciate the work that went into it. He wondered who got to appreciate it, just him so far? Scandalous. Losing your virginity to a kid pn camera. Degenerate. He stuffed the tight right with his tongue, forcing it in. It was tight. It didn't squeeze, or so much as respond to his intrusion. He was out cold. The boy was heated and needful now. "Just like you asked, then." he affirmed to the air, no idea if the camera would pick up anything. 

His cock seemed so big against the older man's ass. Most guys were bigger than him from a sleaze-y lifestyle. He could appreciate the opportunity and he pushed his cock head down, feeling it sink into the dead warmth of the rat. Okay, he felt that. The older male shifted, fighting the lethargy and failing. Falling back down with a grunt and huff. His breathing going flat again. Virgin.

The young lynx sank in to the balls, shifting in position as he leaned over the older rat. His hips pulling back as he fucked forward and down. Feeling the lax walls squish against his invading cock. The hopefully still-living rat a proverbial fleshlight for the teen to... Enjoy? Not really. Money, booze, sex... Things a fourteen year old shouldn't have or want. He looked down, watching his sticky cock slide in and out of the tight pink ring. The tail draped to the side and out of the way.

He didn't say to wear a condom. He probably should have. But, he had time to shower afterwards. He doubted the guy knew anything about taking it up the ass. He could feel himself getting there, approaching release. He picked up the pace and started to thrust, jostling the older rat with ever forward thrust. His balls slapping against the rat's, feeling the sweaty, humid heat. "Hff, getting this cumshot is going to suck." he just wanted to cum.

He pulled out and turned to the side. No faces. his cock leaving a trail across the rat's leg and the bed spread. Poor maid. He grabbed the digital witness and fumbled his way back into position. Camera in hand, breathing heavy as he pushed his cock back in. Regreting the pillows now. It wasn't hard, the sounds he was making, the heat of his body and the situation were hot enough that he felt his balls tighten soon after. his thrusts slowing down as he dumped a fad wad of jizz in the passed out rat's ass. The creamy white fluid covering his cock from tip to navel as he cum-fucked him until the refractory tingles ebbed away. His cock wilting as he wound down. Jeez, one and done. He couldn't believe how hot he found that. 

He pulled his cock free with a wet pop. The tip of it dripping onto the bed as he showed off his handy work. He left the older man gaping slightly, boy-jizz dripping from him as he mumbled and stirred. he recording stopped. For good measure he pulled the battery and set it down on the night stand. 

His flopping cock lead him to the bathroom. A shower to clear the depraved night from his immaculate fur. Cleaning a virgin's ass from his cock. An older, parental virgin it seems. Shame some nice professional gay guy won't get that pleasure. He might even find the camera with the boy taking his husbands cherry, scandalous. The thought stirred him and he began to jerk off again, the cum and water making his shaft slick as he leaned against the tiled wall and pulled off.

It was sometime later after he got out, dried off with the blower and milked the excess jizz from his dick just to be sure. He didn't want to stain his panties. He wandered over to collect his take. A litre of whiskey, dang. Nice. A handful of hundreds and twenties. He left forty. 

He looked around again, finding what was probably the guy's work bag he pulled out daily driver shit, IDs, clothes, water bottle, cables. Sorry John, he wasn't walking around with a litre of booze in plain sight. One last check to make sure it was empty and as he left, ordered a Moober to the nearest McDongles.

Hopefully it wasn't a crimescene.