I should have known that Den Leader Hobby would call a surprise inspection tonight at the meeting. Because tonight I was late because I lost track of time playing video games and had to rush out the door.
I forgot my neckerchief and slide.
Only when I was halfway to the meeting house did I notice my collar felt lighter than normal despite the breeze as I pedaled my way through the neighborhood. And when my paw flew to my neck my heart leaped into my throat to meet it. But I swallowed and kept going because I thought it would be better to be on time than to have a complete uniform.
I was wrong. I can't win.
Tommy was the only one who noticed. At least, I thought so until the meeting ended and the big panda called us into a line for the surprise inspection. He looked us over and excused everyone but me for the evening.
He looks into my eyes. "Salute, Mr. L'Hounque. Like you mean it." My paw goes to my forehead, two fingers extended like the book says, and I stare ahead into his eyes, whish he's seriously narrowed. "You think you can show up to my den meetings like that and expect to get away with it?"
"N-no, sir," I say, managing to keep my voice from quavering.
His paw goes to my collar, his fingers scrutinizing the buttons as if searching for the neckerchief that just isn't there. He drags them down, their tips catching on the various badges and patches I've earned in my few years on my way up to Wolf Scout. Next year I'll be a Webelos. That is, if I survive.
"Makes me wonder what else you've missed," Hobby says with the slightest of grins. Your shirt seems to be in order. As do your shorts and socks. Good job on the cap, though it's not required." I keep my salute until such time as he tells me to stand at ease. I want to be a good boy, to minimize punishment should the panda see fit to mete it out.
Instead, he says, "Don't move. I'll be right back."
While I listen to him in the next room I think about breaking my stance, but I won't allow myself to waver even for a moment. A good Scout is always prepared, and though I've broken a rule already I'm not about to break more. That doesn't do me much good when my Den Leader walks back into the room, clad in only his boots.
My eyes fix immediately between his legs, and the heavy sheath hanging there. His head protrudes from it as he scratches himself. My hackles are up, and so is another part of me. I can't help it; there's something about dicks that gets me stiff. I hope he doesn't see it, but my hopes are dashed when I realize that's exactly where he's looking.
He cuts me off before I can start. "It's not your business to ask why I do what I do. It's your business to do what I say." I nod. He strokes himself a couple times, and I fight to keep from licking my lips. "Now, I bet you were too preoccupied to even put on underwear."
"No, sir, I got 'em," I reply, only to have my paw slapped away when i try to undo myself to prove it to him. He gets on his knees and deftly undoes my belt, licking his muzzle up and down. I start to shake, thoughts racing through my head, but they don't get far because my pants slide down my legs to the floor.
"Green Lantern, eh?" Hobby says, placing his palm against my hard little erection where it pushes the superhero's logo out a couple inches. "Good choice. You look good in them." He pulls them down as well, and I'm exposed to the world. "You look better without."
"Thank you, sir," I say. Suddenly I start to think that my uniform error may not have been a reason to keep me after, as much as an excuse. Before I can ask anything, though, my cock disappears between his lips and I go rigid with the sensation, emitting a squeak more fit for a toddler. I want to look down to watch him move, but I don't dare break my salute.
The feelings aren't completely foreign to me, but I've never felt anything this intense, this soon. My tail lashes the air behind me, the only part of me moving with the exception the twitching flesh in the panda's maw. He moves gracefully up and down the three inches of my hardness, tightening around what passes for my knot, curling his tongue over all the best nerves.
I don't know why he's doing it. By the way he sounds, he just likes doing it. Remembering the size of his sheath, I wonder if he's gonna ask me to do him back after. The thought of stuffing that big meat into my mouth sends more blood down below, but the thought of taking that under my tail makes me just plain anxious.
Still, at this moment, as Hobby cradles my sac and coaxes my balls into giving up something they can't make yet, I think I would do it. And I don't think this is the last time, either.
Staring straight ahead, knowing he's looking up at me, my air of stoicism quickly fades the closer I get to the end. Instead of plateaus, the feeling is constant and ever-growing, inevitably leading toward that mind-blowing moment where your whole body tenses up and you wanna pee but nothing ever comes out.. Not yet. The panda buries his nose in my sheath and the point passes.
It's about when I see his bicolored butt wiggling from side to side that I can't hold it in any longer. He seems to know it, too, pulling off and licking all around the underside so he can catch whatever I have to give. But when all he gets are grunts and my pulsating dick on his tongue, his expression never changes and I think I love him a little. It could be the orgasm talking, but who knows.
After making sure I've finished, he uses his lips to squeegee the excess saliva away into his throat. He smacks his lips and wipes his forearm across his face. When he's upright I can see the thick trail of clear goo from his cockhead to the floor, but he merely stands and pats me on the head.
"I'm glad we had this little discussion," he says. "You can go ahead and get dressed if you want, because I know it's a school night and you probably have homework." Yeah, state capitals. Woot. I bend to grab my black underoos with the green piping when he continues: "But you don't have to if you don't want to."
I look up, briefs in paws, rump high in the air. He shudders a bit, always smiling, and gives me a wink that makes me feel mature and respected and all fuzzy in one go. I watch him saunter over to his bedroom, then hear the sound of him flopping onto his bed.
I finally lower my saluting paw, my arm sore and a bit shaky. I do have homework due tomorrow, but it won't take that long to do. I can tell Mom and Dad I was helping put chairs away or something. If it gets too late, I can always get Hobby to give me a lift home.
But one thing remains: I can't stop thinking about the Den Leader's dick. And it would be unfair to not return the favor. I'm hard again, but this time there's no underwear in the way. Or shorts either, for that matter. And soon, no shirt, as it joins the pile on the floor while I let my dick lead the way to what is surely going to be a busy evening.
There are a lot of "chairs" to put away. I'm gonna put 'em away so hard.
***
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