Why am I here? Was this a good idea? My clothes feel scratchy. Maybe I should go home. No, fuck it, I want to be here. But what if I get caught? What if someone notices? The guy in front of me keeps bouncing around, it's distracting. I feel sick. I'm next in line. Sucking in a breath, I step forwards towards the bouncer and keep my head down and my gaze low. He's big and imposing, built like a house with clothes that barely fit him-- a pig of some sort, by the looks of it. He reeks of an overpowering cologne that smelt like a mixture of piss and lavender-- it wouldn't be a bad smell, typically, but it assaults my vulpine senses. He snorts something at me and I rummage through the pocket of my form-fitting black sweater, pulling out an ID card. It's fake, of course-- but he doesn't know that. The card says I'm 18, but I'm actually 4 years younger...for a moment the man doesn't say anything and I grow scared, but when I raise my head to look at him I realise he isn't even paying attention to me. He waves me inside with a smile, staring off at something in the distance as he hands me my ID back. As I step past him, he pats my ass on the way and I tense, clamping my muzzle shut-- I can't risk making a noise, not in this outfit. I came to the convention to have a little bit of fun, so the obvious question to anyone who knew my secret is simple: you're a fox boy, why did you go to a convention dressed as a girl? Part of it is my anxiety; if I get caught, I can feign being a different person, of a sort, and potentially not get in trouble or have my parents learn of what I'm doing. They don't even know I'm here-- they swanned off to do something else and still think I'm back at the hotel room. We'd travelled to another city for a big convention that my parents were eager to go to, but I hadn't been interested until I heard about a big dance floor party that was going to take place in the evening, for adults only-- it had taken me so long to work up the courage to go. Another part of why I was dressed like this was, well...I kind of like it. Being dressed in girls clothes makes me feel pretty, and people pay attention to me...in a good way, of course. I wasn't sure what to wear tonight, so I opted for a long-sleeved sweater, a similarly coloured skirt that ended just above the knees and extensions to lengthen out my short, neon green hair. It doesn't really fit the black extensions but if anything, I probably look like some indie-pop artist. Regardless, it suits what I need. The music is loud, enough to drown out most sounds but thankfully not enough to completely destroy my ears. The thumping bass, however, pounds through my body all the way to my heart, beating in an irregular rhythm to my own anxious drum. What genre is it...dubstep? EDM? Electronic? It's hard to tell, and I'm not old enough to know a lot of music, at least not old enough to be sure. All I know is that it's dark, and the music is...inviting. As I head down a wide corridor leading to what I assume to be the main dance floor, a young, smiling rat girl holds out a few cloudy sticks towards me. I halt, hesitating to take one, and she purses her lips, looking concerned for me. She takes one between her two hands and bands it, and I barely hear the snap above the music. She slaps it against her wrist a few times and it begins to glow neon green. My eyes widen and she pulls my wrist out, wrapping the stick around it and pinching it at the end. It surprisingly sticks together and forms something of a bracelet, to my surprise. I try to mumble my thanks, but she just thrusts a few more sticks into my hand and ushers me onwards with a smile, and I realise I'm holding up the 'line', so to speak. I quickly head further in. I soon find myself in a huge room filled to the brim with people. Above me, lights and pipes are all mostly hidden by the mixture of strobe lighting and general bright green and purple hues that illuminate a huge dance floor below, packed with jumping, vibing and dancing people, too many to count. The spotlights do a good job of illuminating only the places that need light, leaving the outer edges of the room dark and mysterious. I can see the luminescent glow of a bar at the far end, its surface lit up in an array of bright blue hues to force it to stand out from the crowd, and around the sides of the room people stand talking or doing other things...some are even all over each other, and unease fills my stomach at the very obvious sight of someone with their pants down, a bobbing head right up against their crotch. I'm not here to drink, or anything like...well, that. I just want to dance and have fun without my parents watching me like hawks. It's hard to really find a good spot on the dance floor and I don't want to push my way through the crowd, so I stick to the outer edges of the dance floor and just try to enjoy myself. I feel embarrassed at first, which is stupid when I think about it, because I sort of want people to pay attention to me, considering my getup...but at the same time, I'm nervous. This is my first time doing things like this. I try my best to swallow down my anxiety and start to move to the rhythm, moving my hips this way and that ever so slightly to the beat. It feels comfortable doing just this, at least, and the music is nice and rhythmic-- it has a low tempo so it's easy to fall in line. I never thought I could keep to a beat like this, and the more I bounce on the spot and bop my hips left and right, the better it feels. What is it others do? Raise their hands? I nervously scan those around me before lifting my hands to do the same, closing my eyes and swaying to the sound. It feels so natural, so right. I don't want to stop. As I move, it feels like I bump into someone by accident, but I'm barely even paying attention, my focus entirely on enjoying myself-- if I start to think about who could potentially be watching me, or worse, then I'll only embarrass myself and get nervous. I push my hips back and feel my ass graze against something, and my first instinct is to straighten up, which I do; to my surprise, however, I feel the warmth of a hand touch my hip and pull me back. My rhythmic movements slow as I feel someone else bouncing to the beat behind me, and...well, their interest is obvious, even if I'm only 14. I can feel a prominent and clear mass pressing against my ass with each gyration and the man's grip is firm, yet also strangely gentle. When I pull away he doesn't resist, but his fingers linger, wanting more. Part of me likes it, but unease quickly fills my stomach and makes me both nauseous and scared. What if he finds out I'm not a girl? Would he get angry? Would I get kicked out? More than anything, I don't want to get caught. I jerk my hips and shuffle forwards, but I soon find his chest pressing up against mine. "What's the matter, baby?" I hear him calling out over the noise of the music, his voice low and dipped with the dulcet tones of an older man. It's hard to tell how old he is, but my focus isn't really on his voice, but his clearly roaming hands. They snake across my stomach and threaten to dip lower and panic rushes through me. Maybe if I just tell him I'm not a girl, he'll back off and leave me alone... "I-I'm not a...a girl." I try to speak above the noise, but my voice feels meek and quiet, mainly because I fear that my voice would give it away to those around me. A chuckle rips through him and his hand rakes my front, fingers pressing against my sweater. I almost regret wearing it now-- after dancing a little and the general nerves coursing through my veins, I feel hot and scratchy. "Hey, relax, baby. You're a pretty girl, don't worry." He teases his fingers against the hem of my sweater and I find myself instinctively grabbed his forearm to try and pull him back. I can feel his fur beneath my own fingers and he chuckles again, amused by my protesting. I can feel him tugging against my hips, pushing me into his chest-- but more than that, he's trying to direct me off the dance floor. I don't want to cause a scene, let alone draw attention to myself...maybe he's a good guy? With some reluctance, I let him lead me aside and they step into the shadows around the outer edges of the dance floor, in the more discreet parts of the room. The walls seem to be made of some kind of plasterboard or maybe even plastic, and they look cold to the touch-- thankfully, I don't have to touch them; rather than pin me up against the wall, he leant against it himself and pulled me towards him, in the same position as before. His hand slides to my hips and he pushes my ass back against his crotch, and I hesitate, feeling a pulsing warmth against my skirt, signalling his arousal. I've never had sex before-- never had the opportunity, at least. I don't even jerk off that often, yet...his hands are tempting, warm...they feel good. "Fuck, you're so hot." The man groans his delight and I feel one of his hands slide back, withdrawing from my hip. I'm not sure what he's doing, but I don't really move-- he worms a hand between his crotch and my ass and after a few moments of his hand moving around back there, I feel the warmth of his loins greater than before. I may be young and a little naive, but I like to consider myself at least close to mature for my age: I know very well what that throbbing is, and once again panic tickles through me at the thought. Disregarding, well, my appearance and lack of womanly 'parts', we're in public. Even if it is dark, people could potentially see us, especially when I start getting more into it. "You feel that, baby?" The man moans against my ear, his other hand sliding down to the hem of my skirt, hiking it up so that he could fumble beneath. I quiver and whimper under my breath, purely out of instinct, as his hand roams the front of my panties-- I'd even gone so far as to wear girly underwear, and I wish I hadn't. I can feel his hand groping across my crotch, feeling out my bulge...but he doesn't seem to care, and doesn't remark about it. I knew he was bound to find out eventually, but I didn't expect him to so soon...and the fact he's fine with it worries me even more. "Don't worry...I know how to make a girl feel good," He murmurs into my ear, grinding his hips against my ass. "You want to feel good, don't you, babe?" I keep my mouth shut, hoping that his fumbling hand had maybe just not recognised the outline of my sheath and balls. If he wanted to keep the illusion up of me being a girl then I'd play the part, if it meant not causing a scene. That, and I don't want to admit that it feels nice to be desire, to have his roaming hands on me...but how far this may go worries me. I can feel his hand fumbling around my hip until his fingers snag into the waistband of my panties, pulling them down and revealing my bare ass. He hikes the back of my skirt up and I soon feel the mass of his cock, thick and throbbing, against my cheeks. The tip feels flat and squidgy, which reminds me of something equine in origin. My orange-furred ass grows wet from his prodding and poking, and his interests stir something within me, too-- I can already feel it sliding from my sheath, pulsing to life...and I hope no-one can see it through my black skirt, for it glows with a luminescence like no other. "You like that?" He asks, his voice loud enough for me to hear yet strangely quiet and husky. "Want me to fuck that cute little ass of yours?" A whimper escapes my lips before I can even catch it and heat rises to my face, embarrassment crossing my features. I'm glad that I'm looking forwards and not facing him, or he'd have probably noticed my expression-- he does, however, pick up on my whimpering and he shifts, his cock sliding across towards my crack, and he wedges the flared end of his member between my cheeks. My first instinct is to tense as he slides forwards, and I feel his cock force its way between my flesh, pressing with my entrance. There's no way he's going to fit-- just the girth alone is incomparable to my virgin hole. He seems to know that, but he pulls me close regardless, groaning into my ear. "Good girl, squeeze like that for me." He breaths against my cheek and I tremble, not out of fear but out of a quivering anticipation, and I find myself reacting to his commands, clenching my cheeks together and squeezing them around his intruding member. I feel it flare and pulse against my asshole and he kneads his cock against the sensitive flesh, smearing it with pre-cum. His light pushing doesn't really give me much pleasure from the movements alone, but the sheer situation I'm in coupled with his groans of approval against my cheek easily coax my cock to full mast, and I'm glad that I wore a skirt as opposed to pants-- though the fabric is thin, it covers my glowing cock pretty well. I tense as I feel his hand travel down and brush over my front, and a light, gasping moan escapes me when he thumbs over the end of my dick through my skirt, deliberately teasing me. My cheeks clench harder in response and he snorts against my ear, his other hand groping my chest, feeling up the lack of breasts I have. He must know I'm not a girl, but he's acting as if I still am...is it to help keep it a secret or something more? I can't really tell. "Mmmh...come on baby, open up for me..." He murmurs lewdly and I know what he wants-- but it just feels far too large. He presses and pushes, huffing against my ear, whispering soft and tender words that just cause me to squirm, my face flushing at his words. His hand withdraws from my front and travels to my hip before he removes it completely. I resist the urge to crane my neck and instead stare out to the crowd of dancers. None of them are paying attention to me, and those to my left and right in the shadows of the convention hall are too into their own friends or partners to pay much attention to me, thankfully. I can pick up the sight of some gyrating hips and can make out what their moans would sound like, if I could hear them over the music, but it's clear they're being discreet one way or another, whilst others are simply deep in conversation, drinks in hand. Was I too naive to think such things didn't happen in a place like this? The convention hall isn't even on the outskirts of town-- it's right in the middle of the city centre, yet it feels so lax. Part of me wishes I'd known this before, but...this isn't so bad. At least no-one's looking...well, no-one but one person. Before I know it, the equine behind me is pushing again and I'm feeling more receptive, perhaps even submissive. A shudder rolls through me as I feel the flared end of his cock tries to push past my ring., my entrance resisting at first but then slowly loosening to accept him. He slides past my virgin ring and pushes inside, and at first, I feel nothing but discomfort blogging what little pleasure I could have felt. I thought it might be too dry at first but the man's equine cock is surprisingly drippy and his movements easy, and after a moment a tingle of pleasure spikes up my spine and I moan, louder than I intended to-- the music covers it up, thankfully, and the man hooks a hand around my waist, tugging me closer as he pushes deeper. This is the first time I've had sex, but not the first time I've had something in me...I've experimented, of course: small dildos, pens, fingers, anything I could get my hands on. This, however, is thicker and longer than anything I've taken before. If I didn't have this dizzy feeling and the warm sensations that seemed to accompany it, I don't think I would have been able to take it at all. The man huffs against my ear, snorting and vocalising his approval of my clenching inner walls. "Good girl, there we go...you like this cock, don't you?" He murmurs, and I feel his length flex within me, the flare stretching my inner walls and pushing down against my prostate, heightening my bliss. "Oh fuck, you're so tight..." He pushes forwards and in turn, I find myself pushing back against him, but his cock meets resistance in me. At first, I'm not sure why, but it becomes obvious that there's something inside of me that's simply too tight to pass. I feel him push and grunt against my body and discomfort pins my inner walls to his length, making it clear he's not going to delve further. A mixture of disappointment and unease runs through me but the man doesn't seem to mutter his annoyance, but instead chuckles. He relents from pushing ever so slightly, remaining firmly within me for a moment as a hand withdraws and rummages somewhere out of view, and I don't bother to look, mindful of potential prying eyes. "Mmm...here, this'll help loosen up that cute cervix of yours." He murmurs crudely, and my body inward trembles as the insinuation of femininity for barely a second or more before an aroma suddenly fills my nostrils, which immediately makes me dizzy and light-headed, and I look down to see a small bottle being held under my nose. It's too dark to see what the bottle says, but I can smell a mixture of cinnamon and icing...a concoction that reminds me of my mom's cooking, more than anything else. That hazy feeling persists for a while and I wonder if it's because of the aroma of something else-- I feel strangely drunk, even though I haven't had any alcohol, and also weirdly relaxed. The man seems satisfied and his hand withdraws and in my hazy state, he pushes. This time, there isn't as much resistance as before; my innards seem to relax and I feel something within my loosen, allowing him access deeper. The discomfort I once felt begins to fade and my mind drowns in pleasure. It's only a few moments later do I realise that he's hilted inside me completely, and I can't even begin to imagine how many inches that is...but fuck, it feels good. It's difficult to keep my focus with this feeling in my head, but I manage to make note of the way the man tightens his grip around my stomach as he pulls back, as if he wants to keep me in place. I can't help but squirm as he withdraws, however, his thick, flared end grazing my inner walls. It spikes over my prostate and I gasp, my knees feeling weak. My cock wildly twitches between my legs and I can't really feel it, but I'm sure I'm a little 'drippy' in that department as a result. The man thrusts forwards again and hilts inside me once more, his cock once again pushing over my prostate, causing another delicate, acute stab of pleasure to travel up my body. I think people call this feeling euphoria, like I could cum at any time, like I have no regrets. I'm...happy. He starts in on a steady rhythm, the man whose name I don't know. Though his cock is huge, his movements are surprisingly gentle, and he seems to be taking account of my shaky knees. He rocks his hips with a fervency that I could easily match, and the hand holding the bottle disappears from sight before returning moments later empty-handed, trailing up my neck towards my mouth, which is mostly clamped shut to muffle my moans that, embarrassingly, sound and feel a little girly. I instinctively part my lips to allow him entry and he sinks a couple of fingers into my mouth, muffling my eager, almost feminine groans as he starts to pick up speed, so soon after he started. His thrusts are sharp and quick, but they also don't pull back and forth much further than a couple of inches, if I had to guess-- though it's hard to tell with everything that's going on. Even though his flared end isn't stimulating my prostate anymore, that doesn't stop the length of it grazing against it, coaxing me closer and closer to what feels like an orgasm. The dizzy feeling is starting to fade. It lasted maybe only a couple of minutes, and in its wake comes the discomfort once more...but it doesn't feel as bad as I thought it would, and instead I feel nothing but delight. My innards clamp and spasm as his cock pistons and thrusts, and I can feel his flaring head stretching my inner walls over and over, rubbing back and forth. He mutters words into my ear and my mind fills with the heavy, thumping music, beating in time with my pounding heart. I start to moan harshly around his fingers as the pleasure reaches a peak. I don't want him to stop. It feels too good, like pure ecstasy. It cascades to every nerve in my body and I whimper, tears moistening my eyes from such aching, indescribable bliss. Then, in an instant, it's all over. My knees almost give out as my whole body relaxes, except for my ass and cock. The man seems to effortlessly keep me up as my cock throbs and my ass clenches in turn, squeezing around every inch of his thrusting prick as cum surges through my cock and out the end, spurting and dripping along the inside of the skirt. It bubbles and oozes down the underside of my cock and my knot swells dangerously, thick and hard, like a taut balloon. I shudder and wilfully squeezing, gripping harshly with all my might around the equine's cock and he lets out a long and tender groan against my cheek, peppering my orange fur with small kisses as his fingers flex inside my mouth. After a moment, a heated warmth fills my stomach and I feel him vividly, physically pulsing against my stomach. Out of curiosity, I reach down and stroke across my clothed belly, my fingers picking up on the fervent throbbing and twitching, and I whine with a mixture of happiness and excitement, forever imprinting the sensation and feeling within my mind. I know, without a doubt, that I will remember this moment for years to cum, and probably jerk off to it for several months, at least. The man breaths heavily against my ear as he pumps his load into me before his fingers withdraw from my mouth. His other hand remains firm, and I'm glad he's considerate-- I can barely keep myself standing, my knees bent inward, unresponsive thanks to such a large insertion as well as my own exhaustion. After a moment or two, he slides back ever so slightly and I feel the bulge in my stomach recede as he withdraws, but he doesn't pull out. Instead he lingers there, still inside me, and leans up against the wall, panting quietly behind me. I shift and find my footing and he reaches out with his free hand to fumble my front, exploring no more than a few seconds before feeling the obvious wetness that's seeped through the front of my skirt. He chuckles and withdraws and I blush, aware that my panties lay around my ankles, reminding me to pick them up...but not yet. "Mmmh...good girl, you took the whole thing," He calls at me above the crowd. "You've got natural talent, babe. You're a keeper." "T..." I was about to thank him, but thought better of it and instead dipped my head, averted my gaze and letting my hair and extensions cover my eyes and hide my face. "Shy, too. I like that," He chuckles again, leaning close to my ear. "Mmh, can't let a cute girl like you go. I'd better mark you so my boys can find you later." At first I wasn't sure what he meant, but I soon found out. A sudden warmth, hotter than before spreads within me, and an abrupt wetness travels down my legs, catching me by surprise. It seeps all the way to the floor and I find myself standing in its small droplets, and as the man pulls back it becomes more of a steady trickle. The heat feels uncomfortable, but I quickly realise that it's not the temperature that doesn't sit right, but the volume-- it spreads deep inside me and swells parts that aren't meant to be stretched, and I strain, gritting my teeth. I try to step away but he keeps me firmly there with his arm, sighing with what sounds like relief. After a moment he pulls back completely and his cock sags within me, sliding out, flaccid as can be. It was caught briefly by the flared end but once it slipped free, the liquid trickles from me like a steady stream, down my legs. It forms a puddle beneath me and I almost don't realise what it was, but as he loosens his grip so I can bend down to grab my panties it becomes clear-- it's piss. He pissed inside me. I want to be angry, but I can't find the words, nor the strength, to tell him off. Confrontation is not my strong suit and we did just have sex, so I'm feeling lenient...I guess. The equine chuckles when he realises I've noticed and as I raise myself up, he hooks me to him again, loose enough for me to at least turn to face him. I can't make out all of his features, but it's clear he's a horse of some kind-- a donkey, if I have to guess, given how long his ears are, with dark fur and what looked to be a shaggy mane, from what I can see in the dark. "I'll go get us a drink," He smiles toothily, leaning up and turning the two of us around so that my back meets the convention's wall. "Wait here." I can't even refute his command, and watch as he turns and walks out towards the dance floor, parting through it as if it were the most easiest thing in the world. I wish I could have that level of confidence, but instead I only feel uneasy...and excited. My knees give out from under me and I slide down into a sitting position, grimacing at the feeling of my piss-soaked panties pressing up against my used ass and the puddle beneath. Now that my orgasm had faded, I'm left feeling sore, but good. I have a feeling he'll be coming back, though, and not just by himself. Well, that's fine. I wasn't planning to get home until later anyway.