The ebony wolf's eyes slid closed as the sounds enveloped him. Aside from the instinctive motions his fingers made along the various dials and sliders on his sound table, adjusting the flange of a few of the synth pads and balancing out the channels they were playing on, he was satisfied in how this was coming out. As it hit about the three-minute mark, though, he began hearing a low, very quiet drone. It wasn't anything he'd remembered adding... maybe it was his imagination? No, there it was again, repeating in a rhythm not at all matching anything in the music. A sudden pressure on his shoulder shocked him out of his listening, and he whipped around, his face coming almost directly agains a black woolen vest, white shirt, and shimmering blue tie.

"Damn, Allan, I've been calling your name the past minute!" the muffled voice added, finally piercing through the soundproofing headphones covering the wolf's ears once the track had been saved and turned off. As the musician let his eyes travel up the sleek form before him, he found a blonde goatee, a pink nose, muddy blue eyes half-hidden behind the lenses of glasses.

His look of shock immediately turned to relief, a chuckle coming from his lips. "Sorry, Onyx. Wasn't expecting you this early." The fact that Allan was clad in some dirty jeans and a casual blue button-down was evidence of this; he'd planned on at least changing to something a bit more impressive to meet the new producer in. He had to admit, what the dark-furred tanuki lacked somewhat in knowledge of the technical aspects of music, he made up for in business sense. He didn't know a Moog from a church organ, but he knew what sounded good and he knew what would sell.  "I was getting really into this composition I was working on."

"Heh. Clearly." Onyx nodded down, and as Allan's eyes followed, he realized that the denim was tented horribly.

"Ah, shit. I'm sorry, Onyx." He shifted his posture in his seat, hoping to minimize the effect his boner had on the front of his pants. "It's just, uh... heheh. It's turning out damn good. When some music comes out this great I get a little-"

"Yeah, I get it. Trust me." The suited raccoon dog could still remember how Allan's throbbing beats had affected him two years prior at that club. If not for security busting into the VIP lounge they'd hidden out in, Onyx may have been able to get a taste of more than the wolf's chest. It was lucky the two hadn't been charged with indecent exposure. Those thoughts made his own pinstriped navy-blue slacks begin to feel a bit tight, but he'd at least anticipated an eventual erection. Such reactions were inevitable working with a stud like the bandanna-clad wolf.

Clearing his throat, Allan turned his chair back toward the table. "Well anyway. Your timing's actually pretty much perfect. I think I'm just about finished with this. You wanna hear it?"

"Sure. Just hand me some headphones." Pulling out a pair matching his own, Allan plugged the set into his table so Onyx could sit and listen. The wolf began the track once more, the slow swell of volume introducing an acid bass track to him. His foot tapped, his eyes closed, and he felt the synth pads begin rumbling through his very being. "Damn..." No wonder Allan popped wood from this; it was fucking fantastic. "Man, this is great!"

Allan looked at him, shrugging. His headphones now on too, the tanuki's voice was once more muted to him. His "I can't hear you" was equally snuffed out before it could register as more than an insignificant click within Onyx's ears. But from the look of bliss on his producer's face and the tapping of those sleek business shoes against the carpet, he could deduce what the man was saying to him. Not wanting to ruin his enjoyment of the new track, he leaned back, hands folding behind his head, taking the music into his soul.

As a new synth pad began to swell, though, he could feel some shifting against his body. Light pressure on his chest. Humid air reaching his pecs. An eyelid sliding open, he found the businessman's fingertips slowly undoing his shirt's buttons. "What are you-" he began to mouth, exaggerated enough for Onyx to read his lips, before the canid stopped long enough to place a finger on them, indicating Allan to stop.

"Just doing what the music tells me," the tanuki answered with a smirk, not loud enough to hear but still close enough for the wolf to understand through lip-reading. Allan peered down, finding Onyx's slacks almost as distended as his own now. His hands fell from behind his head to grasp at the arms of his seat as Onyx freed the last button and slid the soft fabric open, the melody for the track kicking in just in time for the tanuki's nose to press into the cleft of his pecs, snorting his scent, his tongue then slipping out and rolling against one of the wolf's nipples. Oh, this sensation. Even with two years between now and the last time the canid had played with him like this, he could still remember how good it felt to have Onyx suck on his pecs like this. The tanuki's tongue lilted about, drew circles around the tender teat, flicked against it a few times, almost as if trying to match the pad dominating the melody. As abrupt as this all was, Allan just couldn't bring himself to make Onyx stop.

And for his refusal to cease the molestation of his body, Onyx treated Allan to even more. His lips kissed over his abs, making them tense as he bathed them. His fingers traced over the swell that was struggling to rip itself from the leg of Allan's jeans, sensitive even with a thick layer of denim between Onyx's finger and the wolf's manhood. Smoothly, the well-dressed canid eased open the buttons of Allan's fly, and with just a bit of a tug on his pants leg, his cock sprang straight out as if spring-loaded.

His eyes clamped tightly shut, and his nails dug into the soft leather armrests as one of the tanuki's paws wrapped around the base of his massive pole, the thing easily filling Onyx's fist to the point that his fingers were having trouble overlapping without choking it. With the raccoon dog's stroking, Allan realized it wasn't just coincidence that he was being jerked off to the same pacing that the snares were beating at in the music; Onyx was either deliberately keeping time with it, or the track really was dictating his actions. He dared to peer back down, witnessing Onyx on his knees before him, stroking him rhythmically, staring his straight in the eye with a horny grin on his lips. The wolf knew he'd added a break in the beat just a half minute after the snares started up, and wondered for a moment just how the guy would react to it.

He got his answer as the synth started up, breaking the music down into a transition to a new, slower pace. His head thrashed back and he let out an unheard groan of pleasure as Onyx's tongue unfurled and pressed right against the base of his swollen, throbbing fuckpole and dragged slowly up it's excessive length. Precum began dribbling out in rivulets, most of them finding themselves lapped up and replaced by a single broad layer of saliva, and as the break that pad had cause neared its end, the tanuki's lips crested over Allan's domed black cockhead and hovered open long enough for a thick jet of pre to spurt into the back of his throat. He licked his lips. This was the taste he'd been craving for so long.

The slower-paced section of his composition starting up only lead to Allan gasping and writhing as Onyx held the organ steady by its base and bathe the head and upper half of the shaft thoroughly, practically begging the wolf's pecker to drool for him. The musician could only shallowly buck his hips in his seat, halfway wondering what deity blessed this tanuki with such a skilled tongue and wonderful love for the taste of cock, and equally blessed the wolf by having said canine worship his towering dick in such a manner. The thrusting was only stilled as Onyx's free hand slid over the short pelt covering Allan's abs, massaging them as they tensed again and again. Perhaps most amazing was that each messy slurp at his cock was in perfect time. Even his own deep, panting breaths were beginning to time themselves to match the song's beat.

Then, all at once, his dick vanished. Every fucking inch was pulled with a tight suck right down the tanuki's throat, and his nose pressed flush with Allan's pubic bone as his larynx squeezed the organ's tip. With both hands clasping the insides of the wolf's thighs and keeping them spread open, Onyx slowly bobbed along it, his tongue pressing the pulsing meat to the roof of his mouth, or shoving it towards the inside of his cheek to show off how massive that pole was, as if Allan didn't already know he was fucking hung. A hand might stray to caress and squeeze his balls when one of the elements of the music would deviate, or perhaps down to the raccoon dog's crotch to pet his still-trapped cock and smear the precum staining his slacks over the unexposed tip. Not once, though, did his bobbing in the wolf's lap stray from the beat dictated by the music flooding their ears.

Soon the music began swelling. It was building up to a hell of a climax, and so was Allan. For Onyx's part, he drew his lips back to the bloated head of the lupine's jaw-stretching cock and annointed that dribbling black helmet with layer after layer of spit, eagerly taking up what of the steadily-flowing presemen he could, though he was clearly content with letting the overflow drool down his chin and didn't care that it was staining his tie and vest.

Allan could stand it anymore. As that swell became a pounding, throbbing drum, he rose to his feet, grasping the back of Onyx's skull in one hand and bracing himself against the sound table with the other, and just started fucking that cumthirsty mouth. His thrusting sent his fat prick plowing down the tanuki's throat again and again, making his nutsac smack the guy's blonde-covered chin in perfect time with the percussion. His rolling hips finally sent his jeans toppling to the ground to pool around his ankles, and the tanuki took advantage of his now-bared ass by taking a buttock in each hand and massaging the mounds, encouraging those long, smooth bucks into his muzzle.

As the track hit its peak, Allan clenched his jaws tightly, his chin pressing into his chest. At long last he could finally hear something besides the music: his own voice, a long, lusty moan as he felt the semen flood his cumpipe. He pulled back at the last second, the cum spreading over Onyx's tongue and filling his worshipful mouth on its way out before starting to spread the hot, thick seed directly onto his producer's face. The tanuki's struggles to pull the organ back into his mouth only half-succeeded as its violent bucking would wrench the tip away from his lips before they had much of a chance to close.

The track just finished, both men pulled the headphones down to their necks and simply looked over the mess they'd made. Thick white cream nearly obscured the black hue of Allan's still-rigid cock and formed a sticky puddle that made his balls cling to his leather seat as he flopped back into it, but that was nothing compared to the gooey half-mask Onyx wore. Fat cables of wolf semen had been flung over him in such a manner that he could be mistaken for a Jackson Pollock painting from the chest up. Thick white goop also filled his pants and tried to seep through the thin fabric where it clung to his cock's tip, the result of him busting his own load in them not long after the first stream of jizz had been pumped into his maw.

After several long seconds of the two men just gazing at one another as they gasped for air, Onyx finally broke the silence. "Fuck, that was... fucking incredible."

"The track or the blowjob?" Allan smirked down, teasing Onyx by flopping his cock, still refusing to defleate beyond half-hardness, against his thigh, a satisfying smack filling the room.

Onyx responded by taking the pole into his fist and flashing a grin of his own. "Both," he said before lapping the last of the seed from the wolf's cock. "Don't suppose you have any other new music to share?"

As the tanuki rose a brow, Allan caught on and smirked, his thick tubesteak already starting to stiffen up once more. "I just might have a few tapes back in my bedroom. I've got a strict no-pants policy in there though."

Wordlessly, Onyx rose to his feet and let his pants drop to the ground, his own dick having quickly returned to steely hardness despite the size of the load that had filled the front of his trousers. With Allan leading the way, he followed the wolf to his bedchambers and to what he knew would be a night of fucking that'd leave his ass and jaw sore for weeks...