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Do not redistribute this story for any monetary gain in any way, shape or form without first consulting the original author's explicit & exclusive written permission. All rights have been reserved under penalty of law.\n\nThis story is based entirely on adult-oriented fiction. The author himself does NOT condone or suggest any described behavior to be taken out in real life and will not be held responsible in one's decision to do so. Always practice safe sex with a condom and trustworthy partners. Any similarities between real events, locations and/or persons are completely and wholeheartedly coincidental. All included described characters, locations and/or events are written to represent purely fictional entities.\n\nWith that legality hoopla out of the way, I hope you enjoy reading. ;3 Let me know what you thought!", "description_bbcode_parsed": "Artwork (C) Ayvee
Characters: Ash (C) \n\t\t\t\t\t-ash Tig (C) \n\t\t\t\t\tbigtig Maxwell & story (C) GratitudeAdvocate
Original post for accompanying artwork can be found here.

This written work is the sole property of Gratitude-Advocate (aka Michael Hall) © 2012.
Do not remove the original artist's proof or alter, revise, plagiarize, or otherwise abhorrently copy this story or any passages included therein for your own benefit. Do not redistribute this story for any monetary gain in any way, shape or form without first consulting the original author's explicit & exclusive written permission. All rights have been reserved under penalty of law.

This story is based entirely on adult-oriented fiction. The author himself does NOT condone or suggest any described behavior to be taken out in real life and will not be held responsible in one's decision to do so. Always practice safe sex with a condom and trustworthy partners. Any similarities between real events, locations and/or persons are completely and wholeheartedly coincidental. All included described characters, locations and/or events are written to represent purely fictional entities.

With that legality hoopla out of the way, I hope you enjoy reading. ;3 Let me know what you thought!", "writing": "[t]8/24/2015 - 7:49 am\nDear Journal,[/t]\n\n\tLast night was one of - if not THE - most sensational experiences I've ever endured among the presence of the general public. Hell, anywhere for that matter. I don't believe I've felt such a grand erotic state of mind of such magnitude since High School, maybe even during my time in the slammer, and I owe all sorts of thanks to that wonderful couple who merely \"dropped in\" for a quick java, so they claimed at the time. Of course Brad, Maile (pronounced MYE-LAE, not Miley like the slutty pop star) and I had the place rolling hard last night. One of our better live acoustic sets played in months, years even. Reception from our audiences at these private VIP gigs usually had a tendency to be halfway decent at best (let's face it we play hard grunge, soft acoustics sound mildly awkward in our style), but nevertheless the fancifully petite audience ate us up. Success!\n\n\tAfter the show, I got my gear packed up - Gibson le bass, the wooden stool, even my lucky \"cognac\" mug - and no amps or wire-jacks to deal with, being an acoustic show and all. The place itself had nice dibs for these kinds of small one-off performances. As a kid-cub, my fondest memory was catching free shows right here at Dillinger's Coffee Cabin. It just \"clicked\" for a place to serve fresh coffee and offer noteworthy live acts simultaneously. Fresh with appeal to the hippie demographic. I hit up the counter after all the dividends were split between the three of us and our gear had been packed and ready for the grand fantastic disembarking to our next venue, or wherever the road lead us. No rush though, this IS my hometown of Brookings, Oregon and as they say, the coon abides. Or is it shepherd? Shepherd-coon? Whatever.\n\n\tAs I approached the counter-top and sat down in a wooden high-rise stool (not mine, the venue's property) I immediately noticed a couple anthros discussing... something between each other. They continuously kept glancing my way, so I ultimately assumed they were talking about me one way or another. [i]Say, did you see how well he performed tonight? Yup, but he was off by a few notes. Nah, he nailed that one riff pitch-perfectly. I don't know, dude![/i] Sure I couldn't hear them whatsoever, but I knew they kept me as their little \"center of focus\". They looked like they may have both made the cut for offensive tacklers in College football. Hefty boys out doing what hefty boys do best. Their open relationship triggered immediately, but I had no problem with that. I have an over-abundantly precise gay-dar which has yet to let me down any. Why would I possess any beef against these two anyways? If two guys in love wanted to go out on a date, they had every damn right to do so. Freedom and equality, man! Why would they choose [i]not[/i] to flaunt it? More power to them, I say.\n\n\tWhere was I? Oh yeah... husky stud number one wasn't quite a husky - he was a Folf (fox-wolf)... I'm almost sure of it. He emphasized a naturally approachable aura. His eyes had an olive-gold glow (very fetching) with a few facial piercings and a trim of facial hair that extended from his upper jaw down to his chin in a V-shape. He must have weighed close to about 270 or so, judging by the overall build. Tall too, at least a couple inches above me. His mate was a tiger, unlike any I've ever seen before. His stripes flashed with a chrome-like glow under the dim fluorescent sodium-arc lights in the 'Bin. I swear he SHIMMERED like a park fountain illuminated brilliantly at night. It was quite a dazzling spectacle to behold visually! They were both so, in fact. A few inches shorter than his lover and probably about 220 give or take, this \"chrome tiger\" was. All in all, a sweet and devoted couple - they reassured me that love has no bounds, even between different species. Something my father would have scoffed at like mad. So it goes! But fuck him... \n\n\tWhen I caught whim that they were perhaps discussing me, I debated whether or not to move a bit closer to introduce myself. These two looked damn good this evening and I couldn't let a chance opportunity slip. As I stood back up, these young adorning fans rushed me, probably some local college students from OSU stoked as a joke to finally be meeting me in person, major fans of our band. I anticipated seeing the Sharpie pens, cameras, anything to give them satisfactory proof that they met me in person, in the flesh, up close and personal. To allow them to admit to their buddies later on that they shook my hand, that they hugged me, that they brushed up against me with their over-excited erections (hey, so my fans are way devoted! What can I say?), anything to confirm their fan-boyish fantasies coming true at a whim. Mitch, the local security and bouncer in the place, had a different idea in mind. When he tried to restrain the kids from hounding me excessively, I insisted to him that he let them approach anyways, let them come to me; it's no problem at all. I was a bit exhausted but not entirely cranky enough to deny my beloved fan-base. The usual routine played through, just as I had anticipated. They got their signatures, their photographs and their handshakes and pats upon my back. One asked me who my bass-playing inspiration had been from the very get-go. I told him Larry Graham and he smirked at me with forlorn surprise. That's right kid, not every grunger looks up to Krist Novoselic or Mike Starr to get good at playing solid generation-X bass. They thanked me and went on their way and I sat right beside the Folf.\n\n\tHe introduced himself to me as Ash and his mate as Tig. [i]Cute names![/i] That's what I remember thinking at the time. These guys had very cute names; they both must have been raised by sweet devoted parents. If only they were MY brothers, they wouldn't be thanking their parents for very much at all... anyways, we discussed the overall sounds in the place and how the audio engineers had done well in implementing such well-toned acoustics. The highs sounding nice and high and the lows sounding nice and low, common run-of-the-mill jargon to fill the night after a solid performance. They had traveled from somewhere back east, I don't quite remember where exactly now, but they came out west to attend some furry convention down south in California and travel up the Pacific Northwestern coast to sight-see. How they wound up [i]here[/i] was either total coincidence or fate, maybe chance knocking on my door? Whatever their reasoning, there they were and here was I too, three anthropomorphic chums gumming it up over cup after fresh steaming cup of hot local Seattle-potent java. They asked me what \"species\" my drummer was. I told them she's a goat-demon/panda hybrid mix and they appeared to be rather impressed, granted the pairing was rare in occurrence to them. Only on the West Coast, baby! After some time I opted to use the little boy's room. It was then and thereafter that the night suddenly got all the more interesting...\n\n\tIn the restroom there were two enclosed squatter stalls, one standing urinal and a large marble stone sink, teeming with soapy scum-stained droplet marks from constant use. Overhead lamps flickered a bit but still remained perfectly calm. My grey-tinted raccoon fur almost looked bluish-yellow in appearance under the phosphorescent light in here. As I stood at the urinal shaking off the last of the supply my bladder held in fairly well for the last couple hours, the door behind me opened. I looked over from the corner of my good eye and saw Tig himself come strolling in. He gave me a strangely queer and sultry look, seductive with a hint of assertive awareness like he had some major well-thought-out magic trick hidden beneath his sleeve that he couldn't wait to show me. He approached me with a near-silent gait. I figured he had to use the stall as well so I zipped up and went to wash my hands, allowing him access. He commented prominently on how fine my dreadlocks looked upon this lovely evening. A bit bashful, I thanked him and commented him on his shimmery stripes, how neat they looked under the lighting outside, how reflectively cool they were. After I dried my hands off, I turned and was shocked to see him standing directly behind me. Holy shit, how long had he been standing there for?\n\nHe gazed upon me and my body with a predatory attentiveness, sizing up his newfound coon-dog prey. I was taken aback at how direct and swift he was with his advances. He reached out and cupped my nape in his huge tiger paws, planting a big wet fuzzy kiss upon my canine lips. His felt a bit chapped but his tongue was lavishing, rough and rugged like some ancient desert grounds with a residual hint of moisture. His kiss felt truly fucking sensational. A spark went off in my brain. My cheeks felt flushed beneath the tufts of dog-fur, my heart was racing and my penis became inadvertently erect with each lash of his pink taste-bud receptacle. It fucking rocked! He was a great kisser. I could have pushed him off me and ran out screaming RAPE! RAPE! OH MY GOD SAVE ME! ... but I was far too gone by then, lost in the overall rush of overwhelming lust that ensued before my very eyes. It surprised me to no end, but in this day and age not many things do, so this was like a breath of fresh unscripted air.\n\n\tAfter a couple short minutes (they felt more like hours) of enduring a raunchy make-out session, he grabbed me under my shoulders and lifted me upward, carrying me over to the wall opposite the sink and stalls like a limp boneless puppy. As I was placed back down upon the tile with my back against the lavish paisley wallpaper, he reached down and cupped his tiger paws around my tent-pole bulge, caressing and fondling me like mad. Trembling and excited as hell, I gasped out with a slightly high-pitched girlish moan at how thoroughly hasty his advances were. I've had rabid fans in the past, even fellow admirers but THIS was waaa-ha-hay different. \n\n\tRight before he let his large lion-sized paw frisk me beneath my pants and boxers, Ash entered and caught sight of us getting down with the friskiness. I was terrified and prayed to God that he wouldn't beat the living shit out of me, maybe give me a forced swirlie. Then I thought maybe he was going to assist in mugging and raping me on the spot, using his massive feline fangs to gore me hollow. My erection dwindled a bit at the thought and my single eye grew wide with rich turmoil. What did I make Ash's mate do to me? Christ, I've never felt more embarrassed or belittled. Ash only giggled though, asking Tig why he didn't wait for him before the fun started. Ash opened the door again, looked both ways outside down the tiny hallway leading to the coffee joint's only restroom and locked the deadbolt behind him. He removed his own shirt directly afterwards. I was simply riveted beyond compare, to say the least. These two weren't just discussing about me and my performance in general; they were discussing about how I must have looked like naked and completely aroused. Holy crap, how did I totally miss this glaringly obvious cue? It had been far too late to turn back now though evidently, so I did the one thing I knew how to do best: I rolled with the punches - and the prodding.\n\n\tTig kept on kissing me and soon after Ash knelt down and unzipped my pants, pulling them all the way down to my ankles, boxers included. My baculum-knotted dog-cock bobbed up like a loose plank on a pirate ship, slightly drippy with pre-cum fresh from tap right out of the very pointed tip. Ash's olive-green eyes (more like gamboge under the lighting conditions) grew wide and his eyebrows cocked upward a couple times, like a signifying gaze of mutual gratification. I guess he was interested enough in what girth I had established down south because he got to sucking right away without any hesitation. Those waves of pleasure escalated tremendously and soon became entire tsunamis of intense raw tribal passion. I reached down to him, hand-paw clenching the back of his fuzzy head in my grip. As Ash's glasses bobbed up and down on my thick erect cock, I jutted my tongue out and panted like some filthy whore being gang-banged nice and rough for the big silver screen, briefly catching my own reflection in the glazed surface of his spectacles with each ascending nod. Exposed and totally comfortable with their overall advances now, I let him suck away like a hungry child with a sweet-tooth trapped in a lollipop factory for an entire weekend. Tig reared my head back and gently nibbled upon my neck and nape, pinching my nipples and massaging my abs, tense from the extremity of shock and surprise. This was a definitely liberating feeling, getting tag-teamed sexually by a random gorgeous furry couple in a well-kept coffeehouse bathroom in my own humble little hometown. \"Awkward\" wasn't quite the right term, I think \"ethereal\" made plenty more sense and clicked way easier.\n\n\tAroused as all hell frozen over and totally into both their sexual advances now, Tig now removed his own t-shirt and guided my free hand-paw (the one not clamped down on Ash's head) beneath the crease of his denim-jean pants, allowing me to fondle his juicy tiger bits. He had nuts the size of goose eggs and his thick barbed cock felt like a Flesh-light toy turned inside-out, covered with warm slimy pre-cum. It was an amazingly slippery feeling. I could only imagine what that monster-dick must have felt like buried in Ash's backside. The thought made me hornier still as I let Tig kiss me passionately, getting the good rub-down treatment from all angles now. Ash used one of his free paws to finger my tail-hole, taint and balls. The sensitivity from his probing, paw-padded hands made for one hell of an arousing feeling. I could have easily shot my load right then and there on the spot, but they were only prepping my ass for plenty more fun times just ahead. Of this much, I was quite certain.\n\t\n\tAfter they primed me up something fierce, Ash let my cock slide gently out of his mouth (not without licking the tip first in a sort of lasting residual signature move) and yanked his own pants straight down. If the sight of his own knotted dick jutted out and leaking a filmy clear trace of pre didn't do me in completely, the scent of his musk emanating from it sure as fucking hell did. Tig grabbed a hold of his mate's bulbous knot and began to stroke it, kissing his partner quiet passionately. I watched them both steadily, paying very close attention to their lashing tongues and heavy panted breathing while getting frisky and jerking myself off as well, right arm feeling slightly strained from the repetitive fast-paced masturbating. Don't forget, I had just finished up a fairly long acoustic show so my playing arm had been a trifle sore to begin with. Before I knew it, we'd begun to engage in a strangely obscure circle-jerk. Soon they both looked at me, smiling and nodding in unison, then grabbed my wrists and shoulders while guiding me into one of the bathroom's two enclosed handicapped toilet stalls. It was nice and spacious; their idea of ideal resolute mating grounds. I had no reason to resist any longer. Why would I have? I was completely stone-drunk with sheer ecstasy and quite ready to take on any horny anthro's thick fat vein-smothered cock, no matter how big or intimidating.\n\n\tI got down onto all fours in front of the porcelain toilet seat, scrubbed immaculately clean. It seemed strangely out of place with the rest of the bathroom because of this. Ash sat down on the seat itself and Tig knelt directly behind me, crouched down above my hind end. I heard the tiger spit and felt a wet prodding at my rear, along my anal lining. He was lubing me up for further action, all right. I grabbed hold of Ash's throbbing knotted member and started to suck him off like crazy, throwing in an occasional deep-throat once or twice as icing upon the cake of fuck-me-savvy arousal. I gagged and coughed quite a bit, eyes watered from the those magical throat-violated reflexes being strained like crazy but I wouldn't retreat from giving these guys their fair share of orgasmic prowess. Ash winced in sheer pleasure and kept both paws rested upon my dread-locked slender shepherd head as I bounced my muzzle up and down over his shaft like an ADHD kid riding on a pogo-stick. Then my entire universe was spliced into a new-found mysterious void of lust that stole my breath away. \n\n\tThat barbed cock's initial penetrating entry felt like a battering ram being plowed into a meth cooker's laboratory hot-spot residence. The waves of passion were sensational as ever. I moaned again, feminine and submissive, as Tig buried himself deep into my clenching tail-hole, balls-deep to the very hilt. I continued to give Ash's cock utmost pleasure while his mate plowed me like a farmer during autumn harvest season. I'd never really been involved in a spit-roast, let alone in the dead-center of one. It felt better than anything I've ever felt sexually in my life up until then. The level of domination and desire both these anthros had established over my sultry raccoon/shepherd body kept me incredibly aroused. I also never felt the sensation of a barbed cock before this night as well. That shit set me right over the edge! I was lost, transfixed, dizzy to the immeasurable ripples of vast pleasure these two were unleashing upon me, as I remain knelt down upon the grimy Formica floor-tiling.\n\n\tMr. Big-Tig began to thrust even faster now and I could feel his sizable coconuts slapping against my taint rather profusely as he continued to dig deeper into me, reaching his final climax all too soon judging by how fast he began to hump away deliriously. I felt like an engine block receiving a crooked piston at ten thousand RPM. My prostate was enduring one hell of a roller-coaster ride while I kept Ash's delectable cock hard and well-doused with my coon-shep saliva, wrapping my muzzle around its entire width and ramming it down into my throat repetitively, polishing the tip, shaft, knot and balls with my long spongy canine tongue. After some time I cupped his canine nutsack in my slender hand-paws and gave them a slight love-tug, pulling very gently on them for just a bit, massaging both testes between my thumb and fingertips. I could feel his wrinkly pouch tense up with a small trace of movement upon his vascular tube. He was on the verge of cumming deep into my gaping maw. Before long, I'd not only smell his musky fluids but I'd [i]taste[/i] them as well. Would I be able to handle such raunchy promiscuity after having just extended the last of my strength to performing a live acoustic show for a devoted group of Enim-Noinu fans no more than a couple hours ago? Instead I wound up asking myself if a bear shits in the woods.\n\n\tWell fucking DUH! These guys were showing me the time of my life and I wouldn't want to spoil the experience by gagging and vomiting up a fresh round of sperm generously given to me orally. That would embarrass me way more and cast a dismaying shadow of negative reprieve over my reputation. After all I'm not a spitter, I swallowed every time. Am I proud of this impending little detail? Just consider this: Is Brent Corrigan proud of taking a dick up his ass on-screen for money, fame and popularity among the homosexual porn crowd? There would be no other reason to stick to such drastic measures of utmost pleasure if one simply didn't enjoy it or feel comfortable with themselves over it come the morning after. I had felt at ease with these guys and their overabundant promiscuity. Perhaps they had been as pent-up as I had... I'll probably never know now but it mattered not while they were busy fucking me at the time, and they'd certainly fucked me pretty doggone good, insofar as I could feel.\n\n\tTig leaned down and panted rapturously into my ear, apprehending my neck in his firm grip and keeping a steady paw clenched down upon my grinding hip while he began to tense up himself. I could feel his balls slapping less and less upon my taint, assuming he was on the verge of spontaneous orgasm as well. Both these panting hunks felt ready to blow their tops and cum hard in, on and all around me. I welcomed it with open arms (not literally) as I yanked Ash's knotted cock out of my mouth and moaned exquisitely with stifling lust, like pigs in a muddy sty fornicating wildly before an impending doomsday. The shimmering tiger named Tig came good and hard like a sieve into my tail-hole. When he initially endured his orgasm inside me, his barbs felt as if they'd retracted then extended back out again. It was fucking righteous as I clenched down extremely tight over his girth to further extend the pleasure of his orgasm. Tig let loose a multitude of spurts into me. My insides felt full with his sticky warm feline nectar and those barbs of his set my range of adoration into a tailspin. His cock spasmed with a flurry of ticklish sensations that racked upon my brain and sent massive rushes of cum-drenched passion coursing through me like some fabulous viral infection that one couldn't possibly wait to be contaminated with. If this is how leprosy really felt, then cast my ass out to the next island colony immediately!\n\n\tTig panted and exhaled in long bursts of warm drawn-out breaths while he kept his cock planted firmly into my tail-hole. Ash then squirted thread after sticky musky thread of creamed pearly-white ejaculate into my mouth which dribbled down my chin and dripped from the curve of my neck. He tasted salty-sweet with a faint hint of candied pecans and shucked oysters, which made my stomach grumble at the thought... or maybe that was just the sperm I'd ingested? The scent was like heaven on Earth, I swear. I've never been more turned on by pleasure of any kind other than this. (Not entirely true - there was this Wolgon I knew one time awhile back... but that's another story entirely!)\n\n\tWhen both Tig and Ash's testicular supply were spent on and in my body, I reared back against the bathroom's paisley-adorned wall then sat down upon my buttocks, feeling a small trace of tiger semen oozing out of my stretched tail-hole and spread my legs wide to stroke myself into a cross-eyed sensual daze. They had emptied their love chambers upon me and now it was my turn to return the favor. Ash jumped up from the toilet seat and knelt down over one of my legs, perching upon my calf while Tig crouched down upon the other. I noticed his barbed cock was drippy and a bit foul with fresh santorum. They looked at each other for a brief moment, exchanging a glance of dedicated promise, then they both shared my cock in-between soft exchanges of spit and pre-cum. \n\n\tHoly Toledo, what a truly devoted couple these two were! If this wasn't a burden of proof, I didn't know what was. With that luscious tiger tongue scraping oh so succulent across my ball sack and that canine tongue whipping and lashing at my dog-cock tip, I contracted and arched my back into a lusciously slender curve to brace myself for a wild-west shoot-off. My baculum-knotted dick exploded with bursts of seminal shep-coon spunk which speckled their snouts and faces. They were the blank canvas board to my penile paint brush, creating an cum-spattered masterpiece in the making. Ropes and droplets of pineapple-scented jizz adorned their robust masculine features and I kept stroking like mad to get every last drop of my love nectar out. It was fucking sublime, the levels of harrowing pleasure I felt, as I looked into their eyes, dizzy with over-the-top sexual excitement.\n\n\tAfter we finished up and cleaned the fast-drying sperm off our bodies (with a little help from the sink's tap-water supply, a few hand-tissues and the cum-hungry tongue of yours truly), I remembered the post-show joint I had tucked away behind my right ear. SCORE! Somehow after all those shots of cum to my face, that little sonuvabitch still remained intact. I asked Ash to fetch my Zippo lighter from the rear pocket of my faded denim jeans and I fired the little tide-stick-filled sucker up with the window cracked open to regulate fresh air for anyone else who wanted to use the toilets anytime soon. We shared the smoke admirably between each other, passing and toking, puffing and coughing like we had won in a battle against some treacherous enemy while fighting in some forlorn never-ending war. We exchanged coy smiles and sultry grinning glances at each another, bathing in the afterglow of this insanely random yet enticingly satisfying sexual experience that had just occurred.\n\n\tThe roach burned down to a small paper nub, I flushed it away and extended both my arms around their shoulders, thanking them for showing me such a fine time. My tail-hole began to ache a little by then, still bathed in tiger spunk, but I could care less about the slight stinging. My mind had been fixated on the pleasure, the good vibes that had settled into the atmosphere of our collective aftermath. They thanked me for playing a well-rounded show (both on-stage and off), kissed my folf-cum-scented cheeks, left me their cell phone numbers and promised me a good time whenever I found myself back east again. I didn't see that possibility approaching anytime soon, but I had thought by then: [i]Hey! Why the hell not? Its about time you owe yourself a little road trip anyways![/i]\n\n\tThey hoisted me back up to my feet and I limped myself over to my clothing, pulling my tee shirt and pants diligently back upon my body with swift fluid motions. They also got suited back up and unlocked the door. They both waved goodbye to me, I returned with a paw exposed in an arched motion, then both Ash and Tig left. It took only a short moment for me to come to terms with what had just happened. I was thoroughly relieved to be in one piece, alive, breathing and not dead and pummeled in some rain gutter or sprawled out behind the place in some trashy alleyway, cut up and disposed of in a damn dumpster. Anyone else would never have stood for such forlorn acts of infidelity. These two, however, were sincere to their very cores, careful with handling me and truly passionately considerate. Not just with me, but with each other. That was the kind of devoted relationship I've always dreamed of. Was I envious of them? Maybe a little... but I don't waste my time feeling that way during every waking moment in my own life. I'm single by trade and by nature and that's how I'll wish to remain until God knows when. They had enjoyed themselves as much as I too had enjoyed the pleasure of their company and this fact remained unmistakably true. I left the bathroom stall still slightly matted with dried chafing sperm, still limping from the sizable barbed cock that inhabited my ass for a little while. I figured the janitor who worked in this place wouldn't mind making a little overtime in cleaning up after the big boys and I.\n\n\tAs I left the bathroom, Bradley (our guitarist and my right-hand man) saw me and immediately approached me with an alarming look of both shock and relief. He had wondered where in the hell I'd gone off to. I told him I just needed to catch a quick smoke break in the bathroom stall, leaving out a couple significantly sticky details. He regarded my calm demeanor, sniffed curiously at the rank organic stench of freshly burnt ganja on me and nodded with assured understanding. I imagined him telling me: [i]No problemo boss-man, take all the toking-up breaks you need! You deserve it after all, you grunge-bassist you![/i] He simply said nothing. I said nothing more after that as well, and that's how it all went down last night. A night of nights. Truly one to remember. \n\n\tI'm going in for an anonymous STD screening today, even though I doubt either one of them would be suspected disease-carriers. They both simply appeared far too clean to be littered with AIDS or anything else of that sort. Still, precautions are quite preliminary in this day and age and I didn't wish to feel far too adamant about any deep-rooted fears of upcoming residual outcomes down the long road in life. That's the last thing I needed to live with being free and single!\n\n\tAsh and Tig: a perfectly well-rounded and amazingly comfortably open couple. I felt honored to be involved in a threesome with them and still do even as I write this entry into my notebook. I hope to see them again soon someday. Maybe I'll try to make it down to that one furry convention in SoCali next year... surprise them off their rockers. From what I hear, California is very welcoming to the likes of our kind, the fags and furries. If that's the case, I may consider relocating for good measure. Only faith and time will tell! Until my next entry, I remain dutifully solemn, still achy in the tailhole, pleased with the new friends I made last night and anxious to befriend the next lovely couple (or solo partner) down the long road of sexual obscurity.\n\n\tUntil the next entry, I conclude by proclaiming my trademark catchphrase: Rock hard and live harder!\n\n[t]\t-MAXWELL H.B. [/t]", "writing_bbcode_parsed": "8/24/2015 - 7:49 am
Dear Journal,

\tLast night was one of - if not THE - most sensational experiences I've ever endured among the presence of the general public. Hell, anywhere for that matter. I don't believe I've felt such a grand erotic state of mind of such magnitude since High School, maybe even during my time in the slammer, and I owe all sorts of thanks to that wonderful couple who merely "dropped in" for a quick java, so they claimed at the time. Of course Brad, Maile (pronounced MYE-LAE, not Miley like the slutty pop star) and I had the place rolling hard last night. One of our better live acoustic sets played in months, years even. Reception from our audiences at these private VIP gigs usually had a tendency to be halfway decent at best (let's face it we play hard grunge, soft acoustics sound mildly awkward in our style), but nevertheless the fancifully petite audience ate us up. Success!

\tAfter the show, I got my gear packed up - Gibson le bass, the wooden stool, even my lucky "cognac" mug - and no amps or wire-jacks to deal with, being an acoustic show and all. The place itself had nice dibs for these kinds of small one-off performances. As a kid-cub, my fondest memory was catching free shows right here at Dillinger's Coffee Cabin. It just "clicked" for a place to serve fresh coffee and offer noteworthy live acts simultaneously. Fresh with appeal to the hippie demographic. I hit up the counter after all the dividends were split between the three of us and our gear had been packed and ready for the grand fantastic disembarking to our next venue, or wherever the road lead us. No rush though, this IS my hometown of Brookings, Oregon and as they say, the coon abides. Or is it shepherd? Shepherd-coon? Whatever.

\tAs I approached the counter-top and sat down in a wooden high-rise stool (not mine, the venue's property) I immediately noticed a couple anthros discussing... something between each other. They continuously kept glancing my way, so I ultimately assumed they were talking about me one way or another. Say, did you see how well he performed tonight? Yup, but he was off by a few notes. Nah, he nailed that one riff pitch-perfectly. I don't know, dude! Sure I couldn't hear them whatsoever, but I knew they kept me as their little "center of focus". They looked like they may have both made the cut for offensive tacklers in College football. Hefty boys out doing what hefty boys do best. Their open relationship triggered immediately, but I had no problem with that. I have an over-abundantly precise gay-dar which has yet to let me down any. Why would I possess any beef against these two anyways? If two guys in love wanted to go out on a date, they had every damn right to do so. Freedom and equality, man! Why would they choose not to flaunt it? More power to them, I say.

\tWhere was I? Oh yeah... husky stud number one wasn't quite a husky - he was a Folf (fox-wolf)... I'm almost sure of it. He emphasized a naturally approachable aura. His eyes had an olive-gold glow (very fetching) with a few facial piercings and a trim of facial hair that extended from his upper jaw down to his chin in a V-shape. He must have weighed close to about 270 or so, judging by the overall build. Tall too, at least a couple inches above me. His mate was a tiger, unlike any I've ever seen before. His stripes flashed with a chrome-like glow under the dim fluorescent sodium-arc lights in the 'Bin. I swear he SHIMMERED like a park fountain illuminated brilliantly at night. It was quite a dazzling spectacle to behold visually! They were both so, in fact. A few inches shorter than his lover and probably about 220 give or take, this "chrome tiger" was. All in all, a sweet and devoted couple - they reassured me that love has no bounds, even between different species. Something my father would have scoffed at like mad. So it goes! But fuck him...

\tWhen I caught whim that they were perhaps discussing me, I debated whether or not to move a bit closer to introduce myself. These two looked damn good this evening and I couldn't let a chance opportunity slip. As I stood back up, these young adorning fans rushed me, probably some local college students from OSU stoked as a joke to finally be meeting me in person, major fans of our band. I anticipated seeing the Sharpie pens, cameras, anything to give them satisfactory proof that they met me in person, in the flesh, up close and personal. To allow them to admit to their buddies later on that they shook my hand, that they hugged me, that they brushed up against me with their over-excited erections (hey, so my fans are way devoted! What can I say?), anything to confirm their fan-boyish fantasies coming true at a whim. Mitch, the local security and bouncer in the place, had a different idea in mind. When he tried to restrain the kids from hounding me excessively, I insisted to him that he let them approach anyways, let them come to me; it's no problem at all. I was a bit exhausted but not entirely cranky enough to deny my beloved fan-base. The usual routine played through, just as I had anticipated. They got their signatures, their photographs and their handshakes and pats upon my back. One asked me who my bass-playing inspiration had been from the very get-go. I told him Larry Graham and he smirked at me with forlorn surprise. That's right kid, not every grunger looks up to Krist Novoselic or Mike Starr to get good at playing solid generation-X bass. They thanked me and went on their way and I sat right beside the Folf.

\tHe introduced himself to me as Ash and his mate as Tig. Cute names! That's what I remember thinking at the time. These guys had very cute names; they both must have been raised by sweet devoted parents. If only they were MY brothers, they wouldn't be thanking their parents for very much at all... anyways, we discussed the overall sounds in the place and how the audio engineers had done well in implementing such well-toned acoustics. The highs sounding nice and high and the lows sounding nice and low, common run-of-the-mill jargon to fill the night after a solid performance. They had traveled from somewhere back east, I don't quite remember where exactly now, but they came out west to attend some furry convention down south in California and travel up the Pacific Northwestern coast to sight-see. How they wound up here was either total coincidence or fate, maybe chance knocking on my door? Whatever their reasoning, there they were and here was I too, three anthropomorphic chums gumming it up over cup after fresh steaming cup of hot local Seattle-potent java. They asked me what "species" my drummer was. I told them she's a goat-demon/panda hybrid mix and they appeared to be rather impressed, granted the pairing was rare in occurrence to them. Only on the West Coast, baby! After some time I opted to use the little boy's room. It was then and thereafter that the night suddenly got all the more interesting...

\tIn the restroom there were two enclosed squatter stalls, one standing urinal and a large marble stone sink, teeming with soapy scum-stained droplet marks from constant use.  Overhead lamps flickered a bit but still remained perfectly calm. My grey-tinted raccoon fur almost looked bluish-yellow in appearance under the phosphorescent light in here. As I stood at the urinal shaking off the last of the supply my bladder held in fairly well for the last couple hours, the door behind me opened. I looked over from the corner of my good eye and saw Tig himself come strolling in. He gave me a strangely queer and sultry look, seductive with a hint of assertive awareness like he had some major well-thought-out magic trick hidden beneath his sleeve that he couldn't wait to show me. He approached me with a near-silent gait. I figured he had to use the stall as well so I zipped up and went to wash my hands, allowing him access. He commented prominently on how fine my dreadlocks looked upon this lovely evening. A bit bashful, I thanked him and commented him on his shimmery stripes, how neat they looked under the lighting outside, how reflectively cool they were. After I dried my hands off, I turned and was shocked to see him standing directly behind me. Holy shit, how long had he been standing there for?

He gazed upon me and my body with a predatory attentiveness, sizing up his newfound coon-dog prey. I was taken aback at how direct and swift he was with his advances. He reached out and cupped my nape in his huge tiger paws, planting a big wet fuzzy kiss upon my canine lips. His  felt a bit chapped but his tongue was lavishing, rough and rugged like some ancient desert grounds with a residual hint of moisture. His kiss felt truly fucking sensational. A spark went off in my brain. My cheeks felt flushed beneath the tufts of dog-fur, my heart was racing and my penis became inadvertently erect with each lash of his pink taste-bud receptacle. It fucking rocked! He was a great kisser. I could have pushed him off me and ran out screaming RAPE! RAPE! OH MY GOD SAVE ME! ... but I was far too gone by then, lost in the overall rush of overwhelming lust that ensued before my very eyes. It surprised me to no end, but in this day and age not many things do, so this was like a breath of fresh unscripted air.

\tAfter a couple short minutes (they felt more like hours) of enduring a raunchy make-out session, he grabbed me under my shoulders and lifted me upward, carrying me over to the wall opposite the sink and stalls like a limp boneless puppy. As I was placed back down upon the tile with my back against the lavish paisley wallpaper, he reached down and cupped his tiger paws around my tent-pole bulge, caressing and fondling me like mad. Trembling and excited as hell, I gasped out with a slightly high-pitched girlish moan at how thoroughly hasty his advances were. I've had rabid fans in the past, even fellow admirers but THIS was waaa-ha-hay different.

\tRight before he let his large lion-sized paw frisk me beneath my pants and boxers, Ash entered and caught sight of us getting down with the friskiness. I was terrified and prayed to God that he wouldn't beat the living shit out of me, maybe give me a forced swirlie. Then I thought maybe he was going to assist in mugging and raping me on the spot, using his massive feline fangs to gore me hollow. My erection dwindled a bit at the thought and my single eye grew wide with rich turmoil. What did I make Ash's mate do to me? Christ, I've never felt more embarrassed or belittled. Ash only giggled though, asking Tig why he didn't wait for him before the fun started. Ash opened the door again, looked both ways outside down the tiny hallway leading to the coffee joint's only restroom and locked the deadbolt behind him. He removed his own shirt directly afterwards. I was simply riveted beyond compare, to say the least. These two weren't just discussing about me and my performance in general; they were discussing about how I must have looked like naked and completely aroused. Holy crap, how did I totally miss this glaringly obvious cue? It had been far too late to turn back now though evidently, so I did the one thing I knew how to do best: I rolled with the punches - and the prodding.

\tTig kept on kissing me and soon after Ash knelt down and unzipped my pants, pulling them all the way down to my ankles, boxers included. My baculum-knotted dog-cock bobbed up like a loose plank on a pirate ship, slightly drippy with pre-cum fresh from tap right out of the very pointed tip. Ash's olive-green eyes (more like gamboge under the lighting conditions) grew wide and his eyebrows cocked upward a couple times, like a signifying gaze of mutual gratification. I guess he was interested enough in what girth I had established down south because he got to sucking right away without any hesitation. Those waves of pleasure escalated tremendously and soon became entire tsunamis of intense raw tribal passion. I reached down to him, hand-paw clenching the back of his fuzzy head in my grip. As Ash's glasses bobbed up and down on my thick erect cock, I jutted my tongue out and panted like some filthy whore being gang-banged nice and rough for the big silver screen, briefly catching my own reflection in the glazed surface of his spectacles with each ascending nod. Exposed and totally comfortable with their overall advances now, I let him suck away like a hungry child with a sweet-tooth trapped in a lollipop factory for an entire weekend. Tig reared my head back and gently nibbled upon my neck and nape, pinching my nipples and massaging my abs, tense from the extremity of shock and surprise. This was a definitely liberating feeling, getting tag-teamed sexually by a random gorgeous furry couple in a well-kept coffeehouse bathroom in my own humble little hometown. "Awkward" wasn't quite the right term, I think "ethereal" made plenty more sense and clicked way easier.

\tAroused as all hell frozen over and totally into both their sexual advances now, Tig now removed his own t-shirt and guided my free hand-paw (the one not clamped down on Ash's head) beneath the crease of his denim-jean pants, allowing me to fondle his juicy tiger bits. He had nuts the size of goose eggs and his thick barbed cock felt like a Flesh-light toy turned inside-out, covered with warm slimy pre-cum. It was an amazingly slippery feeling. I could only imagine what that monster-dick must have felt like buried in Ash's backside. The thought made me hornier still as I let Tig kiss me passionately, getting the good rub-down treatment from all angles now. Ash used one of his free paws to finger my tail-hole, taint and balls. The sensitivity from his probing, paw-padded hands made for one hell of an arousing feeling. I could have easily shot my load right then and there on the spot, but they were only prepping my ass for plenty more fun times just ahead. Of this much, I was quite certain.
\t
\tAfter they primed me up something fierce, Ash let my cock slide gently out of his mouth (not without licking the tip first in a sort of lasting residual signature move) and yanked his own pants straight down. If the sight of his own knotted dick jutted out and leaking a filmy clear trace of pre didn't do me in completely, the scent of his musk emanating from it sure as fucking hell did. Tig grabbed a hold of his mate's bulbous knot and began to stroke it, kissing his partner quiet passionately. I watched them both steadily, paying very close attention to their lashing tongues and heavy panted breathing while getting frisky and jerking myself off as well, right arm feeling slightly strained from the repetitive fast-paced masturbating. Don't forget, I had just finished up a fairly long acoustic show so my playing arm had been a trifle sore to begin with. Before I knew it, we'd begun to engage in a strangely obscure circle-jerk. Soon they both looked at me, smiling and nodding in unison, then grabbed my wrists and shoulders while guiding me into one of the bathroom's two enclosed handicapped toilet stalls. It was nice and spacious; their idea of ideal resolute mating grounds. I had no reason to resist any longer. Why would I have? I was completely stone-drunk with sheer ecstasy and quite ready to take on any horny anthro's thick fat vein-smothered cock, no matter how big or intimidating.

\tI got down onto all fours in front of the porcelain toilet seat, scrubbed immaculately clean. It seemed strangely out of place with the rest of the bathroom because of this. Ash sat down on the seat itself and Tig knelt directly behind me, crouched down above my hind end. I heard the tiger spit and felt a wet prodding at my rear, along my anal lining. He was lubing me up for further action, all right. I grabbed hold of Ash's throbbing knotted member and started to suck him off like crazy, throwing in an occasional deep-throat once or twice as icing upon the cake of fuck-me-savvy arousal. I gagged and coughed quite a bit, eyes watered from the those magical throat-violated reflexes being strained like crazy but I wouldn't retreat from giving these guys their fair share of orgasmic prowess. Ash winced in sheer pleasure and kept both paws rested upon my dread-locked slender shepherd head as I bounced my muzzle up and down over his shaft like an ADHD kid riding on a pogo-stick. Then my entire universe was spliced into a new-found mysterious void of lust that stole my breath away.

\tThat barbed cock's initial penetrating entry felt like a battering ram being plowed into a meth cooker's laboratory hot-spot residence. The waves of passion were sensational as ever. I moaned again, feminine and submissive, as Tig buried himself deep into my clenching tail-hole, balls-deep to the very hilt. I continued to give Ash's cock utmost pleasure while his mate plowed me like a farmer during autumn harvest season. I'd never really been involved in a spit-roast, let alone in the dead-center of one. It felt better than anything I've ever felt sexually in my life up until then. The level of domination and desire both these anthros had established over my sultry raccoon/shepherd body kept me incredibly aroused. I also never felt the sensation of a barbed cock before this night as well. That shit set me right over the edge! I was lost, transfixed, dizzy to the immeasurable ripples of vast pleasure these two were unleashing upon me, as I remain knelt down upon the grimy Formica floor-tiling.

\tMr. Big-Tig began to thrust even faster now and I could feel his sizable coconuts slapping against my taint rather profusely as he continued to dig deeper into me, reaching his final climax all too soon judging by how fast he began to hump away deliriously. I felt like an engine block receiving a crooked piston at ten thousand RPM. My prostate was enduring one hell of a roller-coaster ride while I kept Ash's delectable cock hard and well-doused with my coon-shep saliva, wrapping my muzzle around its entire width and ramming it down into my throat repetitively, polishing the tip, shaft, knot and balls with my long spongy canine tongue. After some time I cupped his canine nutsack in my slender hand-paws and gave them a slight love-tug, pulling very gently on them for just a bit, massaging both testes between my thumb and fingertips. I could feel his wrinkly pouch tense up with a small trace of movement upon his vascular tube. He was on the verge of cumming deep into my gaping maw. Before long, I'd not only smell his musky fluids but I'd taste them as well. Would I be able to handle such raunchy promiscuity after having just extended the last of my strength to performing a live acoustic show for a devoted group of Enim-Noinu fans no more than a couple hours ago? Instead I wound up asking myself if a bear shits in the woods.

\tWell fucking DUH! These guys were showing me the time of my life and I wouldn't want to spoil the experience by gagging and vomiting up a fresh round of sperm generously given to me orally. That would embarrass me way more and cast a dismaying shadow of negative reprieve over my reputation. After all I'm not a spitter, I swallowed every time. Am I proud of this impending little detail? Just consider this: Is Brent Corrigan proud of taking a dick up his ass on-screen for money, fame and popularity among the homosexual porn crowd? There would be no other reason to stick to such drastic measures of utmost pleasure if one simply didn't enjoy it or feel comfortable with themselves over it come the morning after. I had felt at ease with these guys and their overabundant promiscuity. Perhaps they had been as pent-up as I had... I'll probably never know now but it mattered not while they were busy fucking me at the time, and they'd certainly fucked me pretty doggone good, insofar as I could feel.

\tTig leaned down and panted rapturously into my ear, apprehending my neck in his firm grip and keeping a steady paw clenched down upon my grinding hip while he began to tense up himself. I could feel his balls slapping less and less upon my taint, assuming he was on the verge of spontaneous orgasm as well. Both these panting hunks felt ready to blow their tops and cum hard in, on and all around me. I welcomed it with open arms (not literally) as I yanked Ash's knotted cock out of my mouth and moaned exquisitely with stifling lust, like pigs in a muddy sty fornicating wildly before an impending doomsday. The shimmering tiger named Tig came good and hard like a sieve into my tail-hole. When he initially endured his orgasm inside me, his barbs felt as if they'd retracted then extended back out again. It was fucking righteous as I clenched down extremely tight over his girth to further extend the pleasure of his orgasm. Tig let loose a multitude of spurts into me. My insides felt full with his sticky warm feline nectar and those barbs of his set my range of adoration into a tailspin. His cock spasmed with a flurry of ticklish sensations that racked upon my brain and sent massive rushes of cum-drenched passion coursing through me like some fabulous viral infection that one couldn't possibly wait to be contaminated with. If this is how leprosy really felt, then cast my ass out to the next island colony immediately!

\tTig panted and exhaled in long bursts of warm drawn-out breaths while he kept his cock planted firmly into my tail-hole. Ash then squirted thread after sticky musky thread of creamed pearly-white ejaculate into my mouth which dribbled down my chin and dripped from the curve of my neck. He tasted salty-sweet with a faint hint of candied pecans and shucked oysters, which made my stomach grumble at the thought... or maybe that was just the sperm I'd ingested? The scent was like heaven on Earth, I swear. I've never been more turned on by pleasure of any kind other than this. (Not entirely true - there was this Wolgon I knew one time awhile back... but that's another story entirely!)

\tWhen both Tig and Ash's testicular supply were spent on and in my body, I reared back against the bathroom's paisley-adorned wall then sat down upon my buttocks, feeling a small trace of tiger semen oozing out of my stretched tail-hole and spread my legs wide to stroke myself into a cross-eyed sensual daze. They had emptied their love chambers upon me and now it was my turn to return the favor. Ash jumped up from the toilet seat and knelt down over one of my legs, perching upon my calf while Tig crouched down upon the other. I noticed his barbed cock was drippy and a bit foul with fresh santorum. They looked at each other for a brief moment, exchanging a glance of dedicated promise, then they both shared my cock in-between soft exchanges of spit and pre-cum.

\tHoly Toledo, what a truly devoted couple these two were! If this wasn't a burden of proof, I didn't know what was. With that luscious tiger tongue scraping oh so succulent across my ball sack and that canine tongue whipping and lashing at my dog-cock tip, I contracted and arched my back into a lusciously slender curve to brace myself for a wild-west shoot-off. My baculum-knotted dick exploded with bursts of seminal shep-coon spunk which speckled their snouts and faces. They were the blank canvas board to my penile paint brush, creating an cum-spattered masterpiece in the making. Ropes and droplets of pineapple-scented jizz adorned their robust masculine features and I kept stroking like mad to get every last drop of my love nectar out. It was fucking sublime, the levels of harrowing pleasure I felt, as I looked into their eyes, dizzy with over-the-top sexual excitement.

\tAfter we finished up and cleaned the fast-drying sperm off our bodies (with a little help from the sink's tap-water supply, a few hand-tissues and the cum-hungry tongue of yours truly), I remembered the post-show joint I had tucked away behind my right ear. SCORE! Somehow after all those shots of cum to my face, that little sonuvabitch still remained intact. I asked Ash to fetch my Zippo lighter from the rear pocket of my faded denim jeans and I fired the little tide-stick-filled sucker up with the window cracked open to regulate fresh air for anyone else who wanted to use the toilets anytime soon. We shared the smoke admirably between each other, passing and toking, puffing and coughing like we had won in a battle against some treacherous enemy while fighting in some forlorn never-ending war. We exchanged coy smiles and sultry grinning glances at each another, bathing in the afterglow of this insanely random yet enticingly satisfying sexual experience that had just occurred.

\tThe roach burned down to a small paper nub, I flushed it away and extended both my arms around their shoulders, thanking them for showing me such a fine time. My tail-hole began to ache a little by then, still bathed in tiger spunk, but I could care less about the slight stinging. My mind had been fixated on the pleasure, the good vibes that had settled into the atmosphere of our collective aftermath. They thanked me for playing a well-rounded show (both on-stage and off), kissed my folf-cum-scented cheeks, left me their cell phone numbers and promised me a good time whenever I found myself back east again. I didn't see that possibility approaching anytime soon, but I had thought by then: Hey! Why the hell not? Its about time you owe yourself a little road trip anyways!

\tThey hoisted me back up to my feet and I limped myself over to my clothing, pulling my tee shirt and pants diligently back upon my body with swift fluid motions. They also got suited back up and unlocked the door. They both waved goodbye to me, I returned with a paw exposed in an arched motion, then both Ash and Tig left. It took only a short moment for me to come to terms with what had just happened. I was thoroughly relieved to be in one piece, alive, breathing and not dead and pummeled in some rain gutter or sprawled out behind the place in some trashy alleyway, cut up and disposed of in a damn dumpster. Anyone else would never have stood for such forlorn acts of infidelity. These two, however, were sincere to their very cores, careful with handling me and truly passionately considerate. Not just with me, but with each other. That was the kind of devoted relationship I've always dreamed of. Was I envious of them? Maybe a little... but I don't waste my time feeling that way during every waking moment in my own life. I'm single by trade and by nature and that's how I'll wish to remain until God knows when. They had enjoyed themselves as much as I too had enjoyed the pleasure of their company and this fact remained unmistakably true. I left the bathroom stall still slightly matted with dried chafing sperm, still limping from the sizable barbed cock that inhabited my ass for a little while. I figured the janitor who worked in this place wouldn't mind making a little overtime in cleaning up after the big boys and I.

\tAs I left the bathroom, Bradley (our guitarist and my right-hand man) saw me and immediately approached me with an alarming look of both shock and relief. He had wondered where in the hell I'd gone off to. I told him I just needed to catch a quick smoke break in the bathroom stall, leaving out a couple significantly sticky details. He regarded my calm demeanor, sniffed curiously at the rank organic stench of freshly burnt ganja on me and nodded with assured understanding. I imagined him telling me: No problemo boss-man, take all the toking-up breaks you need! You deserve it after all, you grunge-bassist you! He simply said nothing. I said nothing more after that as well, and that's how it all went down last night. A night of nights. Truly one to remember.

\tI'm going in for an anonymous STD screening today, even though I doubt either one of them would be suspected disease-carriers. They both simply appeared far too clean to be littered with AIDS or anything else of that sort. Still, precautions are quite preliminary in this day and age and I didn't wish to feel far too adamant about any deep-rooted fears of upcoming residual outcomes down the long road in life. That's the last thing I needed to live with being free and single!

\tAsh and Tig: a perfectly well-rounded and amazingly comfortably open couple. I felt honored to be involved in a threesome with them and still do even as I write this entry into my notebook. I hope to see them again soon someday. Maybe I'll try to make it down to that one furry convention in SoCali next year... surprise them off their rockers. From what I hear, California is very welcoming to the likes of our kind, the fags and furries. If that's the case, I may consider relocating for good measure. Only faith and time will tell! Until my next entry, I remain dutifully solemn, still achy in the tailhole, pleased with the new friends I made last night and anxious to befriend the next lovely couple (or solo partner) down the long road of sexual obscurity.

\tUntil the next entry, I conclude by proclaiming my trademark catchphrase: Rock hard and live harder!

\t-MAXWELL H.B. ", "pools_count": 2, "title": "The Coon-Dog's Diaries [vol. 1 - Ash & Tig]", "deleted": "f", "public": "t", "mimetype": "image/png", "pagecount": "1", "rating_id": "2", "rating_name": "Adult", "ratings": [ { "content_tag_id": "4", "name": "Sexual Themes", "description": "Erotic imagery, sexual activity or arousal", "rating_id": "2" } ], "submission_type_id": "12", "type_name": "Writing - Document", "guest_block": "t", "friends_only": "f", "comments_count": "3", "views": "629" }