--Tuesday

Mud and grass flew from the stallion's cleats when he tumbled head over heels. His brief but awesome flight ended when he crashed into the rain-soaked earth five feet away from where he'd started. He landed gracelessly on his shoulders, just barely missing landing on his head which would have certainly paralyzed him if not killed him outright.

The coach's whistle tweeted in the air before Anton's body had even settled on the ground. In came the tall, dark bull waving his arms as if frantically guiding an aircraft to land. He spit out the whistle and shouted, "Chad, what the [i]hell[/i] was that! Anton! How many fingers am I holding up, kid?"

The stallion moaned about his back, writhing in place below a cloudy sky. Everybody, coach included, turned to look at Chad.

Chad spit out his mouth guard, said, "He ran right into me! It wasn't my fault, coach!"

"Jesus H. Christ, Chad, you coulda killed him like that. Christ, boy, you're almost my size!" the coach went on, letting his hands fall to his sides in exasperation. "Terrence, go get the nurse. Move it, boy!"

Chad looked after Terrence, the cheetah who had the fastest legs on the team. They never did him much good. When he had the ball, he usually ended up cornered and pulverized, but Chad envied the speed.

As Terrence raced for the school, Chad asked, "Anton, man, are you-?" He started to lean down but the coach grabbed him and put an end to both his leaning and his speech.

"You've done enough, Chad. Get your ass inside. That's an hour of detention, I want you to think about what you did."

Chad's cheeks burned red with humiliation and indignant anger. He unstrapped his helmet, held it by it the metal grill and indulged himself in a very naughty thought involving his helmet and the coach's face. "All I did," he snapped, knowing full well his temper was flaring out of hand, "was keep running when he got in my way."

"I said go, Chad," the coach warned. He eyed the helmet and the younger bull's grip on it. Sensing a dangerous scene and with six false always reminding him that high school football players could lose their tempers spectacularly, the coach chose to change his tack. "Listen, Chad. Getting all worked up isn't gonna help either of us." He spied Terrence coming back with the chubby nurse in tow. She looked particularly uninterested in her duty. "Go on inside, Chad. Just get going. No detention, just go, you're done practicing for today."

The young bull shot a glare at his staring teammates. They all suddenly found other things to occupy themselves with.

"Yeah, sure," Chad mumbled, still fuming, but now the anger was slowly dropping away. His best friend told him his temper could be frightening; Chad didn't like to frighten his friends. Although backing down from the coach was a small step, he began to feel proud of himself on the walk back to the main building of the school.

As Chad passed between the rafters on his way off of the field, a small figure stepped out of the shadows below the seats. Chad flinched, caught daydreaming. He saw that the stranger was just another boy and he nodded politely.

"Yo," Chad said. "Uh, you new or something?"

"Yeah," the strange boy answered, his paws clasped mischievously behind his back. He looked Chad up and down with a smile on his jowly lips. "I'm a freshman. You must be Chad, I heard about you."

The bull studied the stranger right back. He liked what he saw. The new kid was a bear, a black one with a bib of tan color under his snout and bright blue eyes. He was short but his hips were wide, even girly, Chad supposed, but the bull liked round bottoms on cute boys. Chad's eyes finally fixed on the bear's pink-tipped, halfway-spiked hair. He grinned and said, "I like your hair, cool color."

The bear ran a paw over it and grinned back. He rocked on his heels, stretched, sighed. "Mm, thanks. I like your horns."

Chad blushed and laughed. He was self-conscious of his horns; they hadn't grown as much as he hoped they would, and he was already sixteen. Practically a man, as his old man put it. "Oh, thanks. So, uh, what's your name?"

"Brett," the bear replied, and said in sissy sing-song, "Brett Kushne-e-er."

The bull chuckled and started to walk off, but he invited Brett along. "I'll show you around some."

"Oh, su-u-ure," Brett cooed, sidling up to Chad quickly. The oddness of his outfit finally occurred to Chad when they entered the main hall: Brett was dressed like a girl. His strapless top was fit for a girl, albeit one with no tits to speak of, and his shorts were clearly meant for girls who loved to show off their beautiful asses. Clearly the shorts also worked for boys who wanted the same effect; Chad found it hard not to look at the bear's ass.

As Chad led Brett aimlessly around the school, both boys killing time until the bell rang, Brett stole looks at the bull's crotch. It stood to reason that the hottest jock in the school should have an appropriately massive penis, and it had been months since Brett had had a really fat and juicy one in his mouth. He was in the midst of such a dry season that he would have settled for a grope through clothing but Brett was fairly sure he could seduce the bull without too much effort. The bull was, after all, checking Brett out when he thought the bear wasn't paying attention. Chad clearly liked his fat, juicy bottom. The homo jock types always did love his big butt.

"What's that, over there?" Brett asked, holding onto Chad's arm and pointing at the restrooms.

"That's where you go take a leak," the bull replied sardonically. "What, never see a toilet before?"

"I need to take a piss," the bear said hopefully, looking up to Chad like a younger sibling putting on the charm to get what he wanted. "But I'm so new here, and there's [i]so[/i] many bullies..."

Chad looked around, saw very few students in the halls. He smirked down at Brett, said, "Coast looks clear to me, dude."

Brett sighed like a burst tire. His paws tugged at Chad's arm and he said, "I need you to come in [i]with[/i] me. Come on, come o-o-on. You have to keep me safe."

"Dude, I'm not-," Chad stopped himself and blinked. "Oh, you want to-," a dumb, delighted grin spread across his face, "okay, sure."

[i]Jesus! Just about made me spell it out. This moron better be hung to his knee.[/i]

The pair entered the bathroom with a fair distance between themselves. Entering too closely, too purposefully tended to attract unwanted attention; hall monitors and other goody two-shoes types usually busted the kids who slipped into the restrooms for a quick puff because they were too conspicuous about their activities.

Chad passed by Brett and stepped up to one of the urinals at the opposite end of the row from a freshman hyena, the only other person in the restroom. Brett took the middle ground even though he wanted to stand next to Chad; he wasn't so prudish as to waste a look at a good cock just because it was pissing.

The hyena finished and shook off. "I washed my paws in spirit," he said on his way out, ostensibly to himself. Brett and Chad exchanged looks.

Chad finished, himself. He shook off and stashed it away before Brett could peek at him, and the bear did try. When Brett was done and before his urinal had even finished its flush, he urged Chad into the stall - the wide, comfortable one with wheelchair access - and nudged the bull against the tiled wall.

"Gimme a kiss," growled the gay bear with the big ass. He stood on his tippy-toes and nibbled Chad's lip, smooched his nose with big jowly lips.

"Yeah, totally," Chad agreed, strong jock meathooks grappling with Kushner's bubble butt while his lips locked with the bear's plump jowls. Brett moaned for Chad; Chad moaned back. Although Chad had a small penis, his bovine tongue was thick and stimulating. It lapped all through Brett's maw with lurid confidence, Chad having been taught to kiss by two close friends with a real talent for it. He loved to make out. He found it amazing how good it could feel for himself and the other boys he let himself be with.

Brett reached down, brushed over Chad's crotch and decided the smoothness he felt meant the bull simply wasn't hard yet. That was just fine. If anybody could work up a guy, it was Brett Kushner. He unbuttoned his shorts and slid them down, baring naked, fat ass cheeks to Chad's grabby hands.

Breaking out of the kiss and clutching two fistfuls of jiggling, hot ass, Chad breathed, "Nice butt you got. It's huge and soft."

"You bet it is," agreed Brett, growling. "Gawd, you can [i]work[/i] that fucking tongue, can't you?"

Chad was grinning and blushing. His best friend and their mutual foxcoon friend showered him with emphatic praise for his kissing but he was still bashful about it; he thought he was just slurping around their mouths without rhyme or reason. Maybe that was what made it so good.

"Aw, heck, thanks," he chuckled. "You're pretty fucking good, too. You got me hard."

Brett tilted his head slightly. His smiling lips glistened with saliva. "Did I?" His paws felt around Chad's crotch again, groping through the breathable pants the bull wore for practice. "You're messing with me, I don't-." His fingers strummed the nub of Chad's penis. He looked up at Chad with disappointed eyes but a smirking mouth. "You're hung like a baby, aren't you?"

The bull huffed. "I mean-, I mean, I'm small, but-."

"Bo-o-oring. I only fuck guys with [i]actual[/i] dicks," Brett said, and started to pick up his shorts. He bent over in front of Chad to lift them up, presenting his wide ass very much on purpose.

Chad scowled and snorted. His erection, tiny though it was, wilted under the weight of his anger. "Yeah. Well," he said impotently. "Whatever."

Brett snickered as he buttoned up his shorts. He looked over his shoulder at Chad, said, "Gawd, I can't believe I kissed you. Fucking lame."

Brett reached for the lock on the door and Chad, despite his careful breathing and thoughts of meadows, couldn't keep in the raging bull. He was silent but he was fast. When Chad shouted and stomped his hooves he was usually only letting off steam; his fury was quiet and ruthless.

Chad's hands fingers dug into Brett's shoulders and the bear screamed. It was a girly, sharp noise and it was followed by, "Don't touch me, don't fucking-!"

Brett didn't get to finish the cry. Chad shoved him into the stall wall, bashing his muzzle into into the painted plywood so severely that the whole stall rattled. Brett let out a cry of pain and shock. His derision in the past had led to violent and generally not unwanted sex, but never outright violence.

"Don't! Stop-, don't!" Brett yelped, beginning to cry. A trickle of blood oozed out of his right nostril.

Now Chad's hands grabbed the waistband of Brett's shorts. Already too snug on his large ass, Chad made them even tighter when he yanked upwards so sharply that the fabric thinned into a floss between the bear's wide ass cheeks. Brett screamed again and wailed in shock, "Ow, my balls, stop!" He shrieked, [i]"Stop it!"[/i]

Chad was grimacing, huffing, yanking with all his might. He wanted to make the wedgie atomic but the fabric gave out. With a low rip, it gave from the waistband which came almost all the way off like a fabric bracelet. Grunting, snorting, Chad shoved the crying boy down to the tile, impatiently undid the lock on the door and stormed out of the bathroom. He didn't wait for the bell or even his best friend; he just left for home, his temper still fuming by the time he got to his front door.

--Wednesday

Chad walked with Bento. Yesterday's indignation was gone. He was happy again, glad to be around the Shiba Inu who he called his best friend. He looked through the dog's thick lenses when he said, "I didn't tell you why I left early yesterday."

"I heard it had something to do with a new kid," Bento remarked. "What's his name? Kushman?"

"Kushner," Chad corrected, the name hatefully burned into his memory. "Brett Kushner, this really-," he waved his hand as though dispelling a bad scent, "he's just some sissy."

Bento smiled. "I thought you liked sissies."

"Just you," Chad retorted, grinning.

"I'm not a sissy, I'm a nerd, you bonehead," Bento said, feigning exasperation.

Chad shoved Bento's shoulder. The dog laughed and shoved him back.

"We were, well," Chad slid his hands into the pockets of his shorts, "you know, doin' something."

Bento grinned. "Ohhh. Extracurricular activities. I see! Are you trying to make me jealous?"

"No!" Chad snapped, feeling guilty - and then horny. "Uh, if it is, we could-."

"Nope, you're gonna [i]learn[/i] today," Bento said, cutting Chad off. "So-o-o what happened, then?" The Shiba Inu slipped in closer. He whispered to Chad, "Did he... laugh?"

Chad grunted. "I guess not really. He was just a prick about it." His eyes flitted to Bento's, then ahead, then back down to the sidewalk. The school loomed ahead of them. "And I kinda beat him up. I think maybe I broke his nose. I yanked his shorts up so hard they ripped."

The dog covered his mouth and stifled a giggle. Wedgies would never cease to be funny to him, even as a nerd who had received more than his share. "Sounds like he was a jerk and he got what he asked for. Fuck him. He doesn't know what he's missing out on." A quick glance around to be sure nobody was watching, and then he kissed Chad on the cheek. "You're really cool."

"Thanks," Chad murmured, cheeks warm with blush.

The morning classes came and went as a dull blur for the dull bull. At least math didn't give him as much trouble as it used to; Bento was a great tutor, it turned out, and the dog had begun to seriously consider a life in teaching because of his successes with Chad and a few peers.

In the locker room prior to practice was where Chad's day took a dive. A big hand touched the bull's shoulder while he sat and slipped his cleats on. Chad turned to see the bruised, moony face of Anton the stallion.

"Anton, hey," Chad said. "Dude, are you okay? I'm sorry about yesterday, man."

"Fuck off, microdick," Anton loudly said, and shoved Chad. He tried to push the bull off the bench but Chad was the biggest boy in the room, at least in terms of height and weight. Eyes fell on the developing confrontation. A hush fell over the room, leaving only conspiring whispers. "I heard you beat up that Kushner faggot 'cause he laughed at your dick. He said it's like a pinky finger."

"He didn't even see it," Chad snapped, holding onto the cleat he hadn't yet put on. He gripped its fabric in a fist, thought about swinging it as hard as he could into Anton's bruised face. "And so what if it is? You wanna go again?"

The coach's whistle screeched through the locker room, a few long toots and a couple short ones like high-pitched Morse code. Those with more acute hearing - the foxes, wolves, cats - all winced, some covering their pointed ears.

"All right, you two, break it up," said the coach, muscling past the gaggle of onlookers. "Anton, you ain't playing 'till the doctor says you're good to go. Beat it, kid."

Anton stayed silent until he was at the door. "Tiny dick!" he pettily called out as he ran into the hall.

The coach glared after Anton, then put his eyes on Chad. "Guess he's still got it out for you, kid. Watch it." He clapped the younger bull on the shoulder. "Try not to hospitalize anyone else today."

"Sorry, coach," Chad said, embarrassed about more than just what he'd done to Anton.

Practice came and went without incident. After seeing what happened to Anton, nobody wanted to try picking on Chad.

When lunch came around, Chad joined up with Bento and together they found their other friends. Dakota the ram, Desmond the foxcoon, Bento the Shiba Inu and Chad the bull all took up a table together.

"What I heard," Desmond spoke up in his syrupy southern cadence, "is we got us some [i]new[/i] kid, real buttbitch type."

"Yeah, man. I've seen him," said Dakota between sips of Gatorade. "Chad, you met him, right?"

Chad grunted, looked away. Bento scooted a bit closer and grabbed his hand under the table.

Sensing discomfort, Desmond said, "So Chad, sugar, how's it been, playin' with balls?"

"Fine I guess," Chad huffed.

Desmond and Dakota exchanged a look. The ram shrugged.

"Dakota, Desmond, you guys coming to my house this weekend for the usual?" Bento asked, still holding Chad's hand. The bull squeezed it tightly. "I just got the newest rule books, I spent all night coming up with a new campaign."

"You betcher ass," Desmond said. "Heck, that's a lot more fun'n tryna chase boys around."

"Yeah, man," Dakota agreed. "I thought it was some sex thing at first, but it's way more fun than I realized, I gotta admit."

"Chad, you ever gonna make a character and play with us?" asked Bento hopefully.

Chad finally looked back to the dog. "The new kid's over there. Right in the middle."

Everyone looked covertly. Desmond audibly smacked his lips, said, "Well, well, [i]we-e-ell,[/i] looks like he's got himself-." Bento kicked Desmond's shin under the table. "Ouch!" the fox yelped.

"Yeah, that's the new kid. Kushner," the ram said. Looking back at Chad, he asked, "Dude, he fuck with you or something?"

"It's fine," Chad grumbled, feeling like he would love to be anywhere else right now, even in history class. He looked at his lunch - a slice of pizza, everybody loved pizza day - with disinterest.

A couple of the jocks, Anton among them, brushed by Chad's table. "Sup, acorn?" one of them asked.

"Fuck off, ball-juggler," Dakota said.

"Watch it, [i]Dakota,"[/i] Anton hissed. "Faggot."

"Okay, [i]Anton,"[/i] the ram said with hammy emphasis.

When the jocks were out of earshot, Bento snickered. "Ball-juggler, nice one."

"Hey, takes one to know one, right man?" Dakota said, high-fiving the dog across the table. "Chad, dude, I'm gonna do somethin' for you! Watch this, man!"

Before anyone could stop him, the stout but short ram was off like a shot, his short legs a blur as they carried him halfway across the lunchroom. His rallying cry sounded in the spacious chamber when he dragged Brett Kushner off his seat: [i]"Time to get fucking pantsed, butt boy!"[/i]

Everyone was watching when Dakota yanked down the protesting bear's shorts - exercise shorts, and not hip-huggers like the pair Chad destroyed. Brett's small penis waggled free and flaccid in the cafeteria. Dakota howled laughter, pointing at the bear's penis and holding on tight to the shorts.

"Now [i]that's[/i] what I call an acorn, man!" Dakota cried, and then others started to laugh too. Brett's vindictive whispers had nothing on public shaming.

The wide-assed bear started to cry, smacking Dakota and reaching frantically for his shorts. "Fuck off! Fuck [i]off!"[/i] Brett screamed.

A meaty jock hand smacked Brett's ass, caused the cheeks to wobble and shake like gelatin. The bear shrieked and fell forward, landing on top of Dakota who was debilitated with laughter. Finally a teacher strode in to break up the commotion. She hauled Brett to his feet and then Dakota. While she scolded the ram, Brett yanked up his shorts and, crying openly, ran out of the lunchroom. Dakota was still coming down from the high of bullying the new kid. As he was marched past his friends on his way to the principal's office, he said, "Worth it!"

Chad looked at Desmond and Bento and was disgusted to find both of them smiling. Bento was even showing his teeth; he was exceptionally amused.

"That was-," the bull shook his head, "Heck. That was messed-up."

Desmond kicked him under the table and laughed. He helped himself to Dakota's half-eaten pizza. "C'mon, the lil' pecker was talkin' smack about ya, Chad!"

"Yeah," the bull agreed halfheartedly. "But he didn't show everyone my dick."

Bento tempered his smile, wrangled it down to just a hint of a grin. "I-, yes, I guess so... that's disproportionate to say the least."

"Hell," Desmond said around a mouthful of pizza, "I show my lil' pecker off fer fun. And he's got a nice ass to go with it. Dunno what he's upset about."

--Thursday

Brett Kushner's mother called in sick for him. Gossip about his tiny penis festered among the students. Chad's tiny penis was relegated to second-page news.

Around 11 PM that night, a storm spanning most of the state rolled through.

--Friday

Chad sat in the library and balefully eyed the soupy, empty field out the southern window. He hated missing practice despite how tense it had been lately. It was his favorite part of the day, of school in general, and he had never even considered the idea that he probably wouldn't become a sports megastar. [i]At least when you get all punch-drunk from it, nobody will be able to tell the difference,[/i] Bento had once said about Chad's NFL ambitions. Chad had given him a little wedgie for that. The thought now made him wince.

He looked up when someone sat down across from him. It was Dakota, smiling somewhat absently. Once a boy who everyone mistook for a stoner due to his dopey cadence and pothead mannerisms, Dakota had since grown into what Chad, Bento, and Desmond all openly considered to be something of an asshole. A well-liked asshole and a good friend, but still an asshole.

"Sup, dude?" the ram said. "Hey, don't worry, man. This shit ought to be cleared out by Monday," he said, waving at the window. "Then you can play with your balls again."

Chad smiled wearily at Dakota. He was so used to playing-with-your-balls jokes from everyone he knew that it had long ceased to offend him. For old times sake, he kicked Dakota in the shin anyway and said quietly, "Fuck you, douchebag."

"Ow! Fuck you too," Dakota laughed, then looked around to see if anybody was listening.

Chad went back to watching the rain roll down the window. Thunder rumbled irregularly; this was mostly a rainstorm.

A few seconds passed. Dakota leaned in, his proximity earning him Chad's attention again. "Don't look now, but that Kushner kid just came in. He looked at you."

The bull huffed. "So what? It's not like I jerked his shorts down in front of the whole school."

Dakota began to smile, then grin, his pride for his bullying monumental. Chad kicked him again, hissed, "Come on, that shit wasn't funny. I've had that done to me."

"Owww!" Dakota whined, rubbing his shin. He glared at Chad and said, "Jeez, man, he was telling everyone how small your dick is, that's just as bad. I was just trying to help." He suddenly kicked Chad back, caused the bull to wince and cup his shin. "Whatever, man, I'm gonna just go mooch around the cafeteria."

Chad twiddled his thumbs, watched the rain, traced the random lines and obscenities scratched into the laminated table, watched the rain some more. He appeared to be in deep thought but really his thoughts were mostly blank. Only one impulse came to him and he acted on it immediately. He stood and walked over to Brett Kushner who sat alone at a table with a book in front of him.

The bear looked up from his book. His expression of bored disinterest changed to hateful disgust. "What do you want?"

"Uh, can I sit here?" Chad asked, hand on the back of the chair opposite Brett.

"Guess so," Brett shrugged. "But I'm getting up if you do."

"Don't," Chad said, almost plaintively. He pulled out the chair, sat down, looked at Brett. "Dude, about what Dakota did-."

"I deserved it," the bear hissed. "So shut up. We're even."

Chad looked at the book, tried reading some of the text upside-down. "Umm. Listen. I, um, had my pants yanked down a couple times too..."

"I don't ca-a-are," Brett whined. "God, you don't get it, do you? I don't like you! You're a jerk and so is your friend. Like, what, you were too much of a little bitch to do that yourself so you made him do it?"

The bull had to think about what Brett was implying. The realization almost made him laugh. He wisely held it back. "What? No! No way. Dude, I tried to [i]stop[/i] him! I'd never do that to anybody!"

Brett's blue eyes flicked between the book and the bull a few times before settling on the pages. Chad saw a few teardrops hit the pages. "I don't believe that," Brett said quietly, miserably. "You beat me up... ripped my favorite shorts..."

"Yeah. I did, I got mad and beat you up, but I didn't make it [i]public,[/i] gawd. I wouldn't do that. It really-, it's like-," he struggled with his fairly small vocabulary, and eventually gave up, going silent.

The bear looked at Chad again, his withering gaze enough to cause the bull to look away in discomfort. "I'm really sorry," Chad said quietly. "I didn't want Dakota to do that to you, dude."

Brett sniffled, wiped his eyes with his paws. "Nobody's ever done that to me before. Gawd. So many people keep fucking-," he wrung his fists and stifled a cry down to a tiny wail, "they keep, like, calling me names. This one guy, this horse with a messed-up face, he says I'm a faggot and I deserved it."

"Anton," Chad murmured, his eyes narrowing. He looked across at the bear, feeling a hint of pity. Every guy seemed to get picked on for his penis one way or another but Chad had been through horrible mockery and mistreatment. He thought of the first time he had been pantsed so many years ago, his tiny boyhood exposed to what felt like thousands of leering eyes. He thought he would die of embarrassment. At times when the memory cropped up be it in idle thought or nightmares, he wished he had died.

Gently he rubbed Brett's arm and the bear thankfully leaned into his touch.

"Sorry I beat you up," Chad said.

"I'm sorry too, for making fun of you," Brett whined. He sniffled hard, sucking snot. "I hate crying. I feel like a baby."

Chad reached into his hip pocket. He came out with a napkin he'd stashed there a couple days ago. "Here, this is the best I got."

Brett smiled thinly. "Thanks," he said, and blew his nose a few times. When he could breathe again, he said, "This is all so stupid... it's a dumb thing to make fun of somebody over."

[i]Not so funny when it happens to you, huh?[/i] thought a bitter side of Chad. He felt proud of suppressing the urge to say it. He rubbed the bear's arm again and said, "Hey, that horse who keeps calling you a-, you know."

"Yeah?"

"I'm the one who messed him up," Chad said, winking and grinning. "Want me to do it again?"

The bear's miserable face began to smirk, then smile. He laughed shakily. "I dunno. Maybe. Maybe, yeah."

"Maybe, yeah? Is that a yes?" the bull encouragingly asked.

"No-o-o. You'll get in trouble," Brett groaned, but laughed, knowing he was being naughty and loving every second of it.

"Maybe he'll get hurt at practice again," Chad said with a smile.

Brett giggled, blew his nose again, and giggled a bit more. "You're kinda fun." Quietly, "And, um. You were honestly a [i]great[/i] kisser."

The bull blushed and looked away. "I guess I'm pretty good at it, sure."

One of Brett's feet nudged Chad under the table. "Hey. Hey, Chad. We got like... ten minutes before the bell."

Chad's eyes snapped onto Brett. His smile turned lopsided. "What're you saying?"

"I'm sa-a-ayi-i-ing," he paused to blow his nose again and seemed satisfied at last, "I'm saying we should... try again. Y'know?"

Chad's mind drifted to the bear's fat, round ass. Anal sex was virgin territory and really something he had never considered but he found he loved the feel of a thick and wide ass. Bento's was nice, Desmond's better, but Brett Kushner had the thickest cheeks he had yet felt.

"Let's go for it," Chad growled, and was up and out of the library immediately with Brett in tow.

Brett was first into the stall, Chad close behind. Same stall as before and the bathroom was empty, save for one weasel relieving himself at the urinal. He didn't bother to wash his paws and left the pair in peace.

The bear and bull kissed eagerly, hungrily. Gay teenage lust made for sloppy passion. They were not out to impress or love, but to satisfy themselves like the animals they were. Their tongues slathered, wrestling in the bull's maw, then in Brett, then back inside of Chad. Their shorts were hastily shoved downward. Small penises rubbed together as if sweetly nuzzling. Precum oozed from their tips. Chad was circumcised; Brett was not.

Chad's meaty hands squeezed hungrily on Brett's ass cheeks. He tugged and smooshed them as if kneading dough. He pulled apart their dense curves and allowed them to clap together, and clap they did. Chad had no interest in the tight pink bud down in the crevice; his love was for the cheeks alone.

Brett broke out of the kiss, moaning for Chad. He pushed his wide hips in, pulled them out, rubbing his cock with Chad's and his butt into the bull's hands. "Yeah, squeeze me," he moaned past slobbery, sticky bear jowls. "Squeeze my butt."

The bull grinned, nuzzled with Brett. He felt the swell in his loins, that familiar erogenous burn of an oncoming orgasm he so often brought himself to. Rubbing with Brett, feeling the bear's small endowment on his own and the plump buttocks in his hands was intensely gratifying. He said quietly, between huffs, "I'm gonna cum."

"Already?" Brett asked, grinning and blushing. He looked down, actually glimpsed Chad's tiny penis for the first time. [i]Jesus, it really is tiny,[/i] he thought. "Lemme-, lemme suck you off, hon," he cooed, and peppered Chad's cheek and jaw with kisses. "Let me blow your balls off. I can suck a dick so good."

"No, no," Chad huffed urgently, fingers digging deep, deep into those plush cheeks. "Just stay like this. I like your butt."

Brett tittered. He felt around Chad's back, grasped his taut bottom. "I'd let you fuck me," he whispered. "You could put it in my butt."

"I-I don't-, I'm kinda waiting-," Chad mumbled, his inarticulacy concurrent with his orgasm.

"Saving it for someone spe-e-ecial?" Brett huffed. [i]That's okay, you wouldn't make it past my cheeks anyway.[/i]

Chad bit his lip, rolled back his eyes, huffed. "Mm, shit," he grunted through clenched teeth as his small penis twitched and shot its mess on Brett's loins. Not only was Chad's penis small, so was the size of its load; he nevertheless grunted with great satisfaction. "Ooh, god. Let me help you now. I want to make you cum."

"Please do," Brett whispered. He wanted to talk the bull into at least fingering him. If he could get a couple of those thick jock digits into his ass, he would probably cum on the spot.

The stall door rattled sharply.

Brett flinched, then groaned, "Occupied!"

"I knew you were in there, faggot."

Brett's features blanched. He pressed tightly to Chad for protection, whimpered almost silently to him, "Oh, shit, it's that horse."

Another rattling knock, then Anton kicked the door a few times. The wooden notch around the latch began to splinter.

Chad and Brett quickly and quietly pulled up their shorts. Brett began to cry as he huddled near the toilet. While Anton kicked the door again and demanded that Brett come out, Chad patted the bear's shoulder.

When the kicks stopped, Chad unlatched the door.

"Finally! Take your ass-beating like a man, you little-." Anton stopped talking when the door swung in. He did not visibly flinch when he saw Chad, but the way he silenced himself gave that impression.

"Get lost, Anton," Chad said lowly, keeping his fury down to a simmer, well away from that deadly boiling point. "You're not hurting my friend."

Anton started to lean in, trying to look around Chad. He got a glimpse of Brett cowering in the stall before the bull pushed him back. "Back up!" he snapped, temper flaring, blood racing.

The horse glared at Chad. His swollen eye made the appear expression more humorous than threatening. "Yeah, I guess you microdicks need to watch each other's backs, don't you?" He scoffed. "Guess you live another day, Kushner!"

Chad had a brief, vivid fantasy: taking the cover off the toilet tank and cracking it over Anton's thick skull. He shook off the idea. There was no fight; there was no need to start one.

Once the stallion was well out of the restroom, Chad stepped back into the stall and took Brett's paw. "He's gone. It's okay."

"Jeez, Chad, that guy's a fucking psycho," Brett whined. He wiped his tears off on his arm. Chad grabbed a handful of toilet paper and offered it to him. "Thanks," Brett said, and started blowing again.

"He's something," Chad murmured. His mind started to wander, thinking about what would happen when Anton caught Brett alone. Maybe there was nothing Chad could do. Wasn't growing up about getting the shit kicked out of you sometimes?

"Um. Are you-, you doing anything tomorrow?" Chad asked, looking at his feet suddenly.

Brett smiled, managing to look cute despite the reddened eyes and wet nose. "Homework, I guess. I gotta help my mom at her salon, too. Why?"

"Uh, my friends are all playing some game and it's dumb nerd crap, so I thought, uh, you'd wanna hang out maybe?" He bit his lip for a moment. "Not sex stuff. Not unless you wanna. Like, video games? Maybe do our homework together?"

The bear tilted back his head and smooched Chad on the mouth. "Sure. You should come to my house. If you wanna come by the salon around three, you can help me clean up and I can get home sooner. And, well, my mom is pretty cool, if you know what I mea-a-an."

Chad didn't really know what Brett meant, not yet, but he would figure it out when he actually met Mrs. Kushner, the lovely widow who was sympathetic to her son's gay promiscuity. For the moment, he just smiled and said, "That sounds really cool."