Independence 
By Brathor 

This story is intended for an adult audience.  If you are under 18, please don’t read it.

Pausing to make sure no one was looking, Jacobs poured a few ounces of lemonade from his red plastic cup onto the ground, then poured the clear liquid from his flask into the cup. Tolerance, he told himself wryly. As he pocketed the flask, a cool breeze offered respite from the sweltering summer heat while the molten gold sun dipped low to the west. 

Still hot, the tall, broad-chested bull unbuttoned the top two buttons of his dress shirt in a futile effort to cool off. What kind of barbecue required semi-formal dress? He took a long pull from the red plastic cup in his hand, then stared off through the lightly wooded copse flanking the large yard. Despite the heat, bird song and the shade of the trees helped him relax, and for a few moments, Jacobs was able to forget where he was. 

He liked his job, he really did. He hated all the shit that went with it. And if there was one thing he hated more than the rest, it was these little parties that ate into his holidays and weekends.  The CEO's Annual Fourth of July Barbecue was the worst. He already spent most of his time pretending to give a fuck about his boss and co-workers. Why should he spend his time off with them too? 

Reluctantly, he made his way to the backyard where he found a lion in an apron that strained across his beer gut working an expensive-looking grill. A gaggle of sycophants with matching cups in hand pretended to laugh at the CEO's off-color jokes and frat stories-- the same ones he told every year. His wife, taller than her husband and still handsome despite the lines around her eyes, was pretending not to hear the occasional obscenities and ensuing laughter echoing off of the house, but even Jacobs could see she was irritated when she picked up a pitcher of lemonade and began walking around to fill up cups.

He offered her his practiced smile and a thank you when she filled his, though he didn’t want it diluting his makeshift cocktail. The breeze had stopped and once again the smell of cooking meat was starting to make him queasy, though he was careful not to let it show. Predators always seemed to have an edge in the workplace, at least that’s what the magazines said, and though Jacobs’s height and stature made him just as intimidating as any wolf or lion, he didn’t like being reminded that he wasn’t quite one on them.

Mr. Stander was telling one of his favorite jokes about some kid fucking his teacher. Jacobs forced himself to smile at the punchline. He’d heard it a dozen times before and hadn’t thought it was funny then either. Fortunately his lack of laughter was covered by the boisterous chuckles and belly-laughs from the other guys surrounding  him. 

When Stander noticed him, the big lion greeted the bull, all hearty welcomes, handshakes, and shoulder pats. The golden-furred feline was almost as tall as Jacobs, and  strong, despite the extra weight around his torso. “Good to see you Brand,” he rumbled in that deep baritone. “Still no girlfriend this year?” Jacobs suppressed a wince at the nickname. He’d never liked it any more than he’d liked the name Brandon. 

The bull shrugged. “Oh, I’ll bring someone by one of these years,” he lied. He wasn’t really the dating type, and even if he was, it wouldn’t be a girl. Unless Stander suddenly stopped donating to anti-gay PACs, he sure as hell wasn’t going to bring his kind of a date out here. “How’s Rain,” he said, shifting the topic to something safe. 

The big lion actually frowned at the mention of his son. Last summer, Stander had brought him in as a marketing intern just before Rain started his freshman year of college. Jacobs had even worked with him on concepts for a new marketing campaign geared towards corporate buyers. Despite being shy and a bit short in the confidence department, the kid had managed to impress Jacobs enough to make him forget about the apparent nepotism. The kid was good.

The frown vanished almost as soon as it appeared. “Oh, he’s doing well. Straight A’s all year. He’s been working at the pool over the summer.” The answer was clipped, and Jacobs could hear the tension in his voice. 

Why not bring the kid in for another internship? Well, it was none of his business. “Must be nice with the heat,” he said, “Did you hear it’s supposed to get hotter all next week?” The second change of topic did the trick, and Jacobs talked as long as he cared to subject himself to the smell of the cooking food. Eventually, he slipped away without anyone noticing. 

He had long since mastered the art of pretending to give a fuck, and he could deal with his churning stomach, the oppressive heat, and the occasional mosquito bites. What really irked him were the children. Jacobs didn’t deal well with kids, and this barbecue was the only time he ever had to. The problem was his temper. 

Even as a teenager, he’d always had trouble keeping his anger in check. As an adult, he’d long since found ways to deal with stress and frustration, or to at least mask it, but something about this barbecue always pushed him to the edge. It didn't help that attendance was practically mandatory. People who didn't go had a tendency to end up leaving the company a few months later. The sound of squealing children surrounded him, and knowing that they weren’t actually doing anything wrong didn’t do anything to keep him calm, though he hid it well. The last thing he needed was some parent pissed off at him for scaring their kids.
He’d emptied his glass a second time before, and as he finished making himself a new cocktail, his body reminded him he'd been putting off pissing for a while now. He’d been putting it off, but a few minutes inside would be a good excuse to get away from the crowds, the heat, and the smells. Cup in hand, he made his way inside. The sound of the sliding glass door brought a welcome wall of cool air that washed over him, reminding him of just how hot it was outside. 

After lingering for a few seconds in the kitchen, He followed the hastily made signs taped to the wall and found the guest bathroom down a hallway on the first floor. When he tried the elegant handle, he found it locked. Grunting in irritation, he waited for a few seconds before he heard the sound of a woman giggling followed by a man’s murmurs. That was when he realized he’d be waiting for a while. When he heard the more familiar sound of a belt being unbuckled followed by more laughter, Jacobs swore then stalked off towards the stairs he’d seen near the high-ceilinged living room. Patience had never been his thing. 

The living room smelled far too ‘new’ to his tastes; the perfect furniture was white enough to tell him it was the kind meant only for show. Once he found the stairs curving around the too-perfect living room, he was careful not to make too much noise; he had no idea if any of Stander’s family would be up here, and he really didn’t want to look like a creep. Naturally, the doors up here were closed; he had no idea which led to a bathroom. He’d have to guess. Or wait for the couple downstairs to finish fucking.

He thought he could hear running water behind one door, so he grabbed the handle and pushed it open. He immediately swore again.

In the center of the bedroom on the other side, a lion stopped buttoning his slim-cut dress shirt to stare at him with stark gold eyes. With an athletic build and a long dark mane, Jacobs almost didn’t recognize the feline, who, besides the shirt, was wearing nothing more than a tight pair of boxer-briefs that left little to the imagination, but when he managed to stop looking at everything else and focus on boy’s face, it clicked.

College had apparently been good to Rain Stander, who had always seemed lanky and a bit lacking in the confidence department. He’d obviously been spending a lot of time at the gym since Jacobs had seen him last. He’d grown out his mane, pierced his ears, and apparently started wearing designer underwear. A glint of metal caught his eye. Dangling just below the lion’s collarbone, a leaf-shaped pendant dangled from a silver chain. Half of the leaf was silver, the other painted in pride colors.

No wonder Stander had been uncomfortable downstairs; his pride and joy had turned into a flaming fag after just one year away from home. After all his jokes and conservative fundraisers, the fruit of the man’s own loins was into dick. The thought made Jacobs smile inwardly. Sometimes karma did its job.

“Looking for something, Mr. Jacobs?” the lion said after a few seconds. He didn’t seem at all bothered to be caught half-dressed. In fact, a lazy little smile was curling one side of his mouth. Was he amused? The Rain he remembered had blushed when Jacobs had commented on a haircut last summer. 

He shrugged. If the cat wasn’t embarrassed, there was no reason Jacobs had to be either. “Yeah, looking for a bathroom. The downstairs is occupied.”

Rain nodded and said, “Gotcha. Just give me a second.”

Jacobs knew he shouldn’t be looking as the kid finished dressing, but Rain didn’t seem to be in any particular hurry, and the bull had never been very good at doing what he should. Rain grabbed a pair of  khaki jeans from his bed, and Jacobs found his eyes wandering over the lion’s frame again now that his back was turned. The underwear he was wearing hugged his ass in a way that made it impossible not to notice the athletic curves, and Jacobs would have sworn the way his tail was slowly flagging back and forth was meant to draw his attention. 

Once the best of the show was over, Jacobs did look around. The bedroom was tidy, though the faint smell of teenager was plain even to his nose. A small fountain on Rain’s desk had been the source of the water sound he’d heard in the hallway. His bookshelf was full, and though Jacobs didn’t have time to read many titles, he did notice most were classics. Hemingway, Tolstoy, Locke, Paine. Not exactly light reading. A few looked like they were on the verge of falling apart from use. 

“Okay, let’s find you a place to piss.” Rain’s confident voice pulled Jacobs's attention again. He was pulling his mane free of his collar, still wearing that simper from before. 

As it turned out, Rain and his younger sister Tara shared a bathroom that was connected to each of their rooms, but not to the hallway. All things considered, walking in on Rain was better than the alternative. He doubted Tara would have been as understanding. 

When he’d finished up in the bathroom-- it took longer than it should have since he was fighting an erection-- he found the golden-eyed boy holding his cup when he came back out. The little prick winked at him, took a long pull from it, then handed it back to him while making a face. “Whew, you don’t fuck around do you Mr. Jacobs.”

He had to keep himself from saying something smart like, “Try me.” What he actually said was, “You shouldn’t be drinking that stuff.” 

Rain laughed. “Dad hasn’t had a drop in the house for ten years, ever since he had that accident. I haven’t had a good drink in two months, cut me some slack.”

Frankly, he didn’t give a shit about the kid drinking. He could get shit-faced all he wanted as far as he was concerned. What he didn’t need was Rain getting into trouble, then pointing the finger at him. “You’re underage, kid.”

He shrugged, then offered a coy smile, “Only for some things.” Jacobs’ eyes widened when Rain slowly drew a paw up his thigh until it rested between his legs. He’d been thinking about the kid’s ass again, which meant the boy’s palm found half an erection.

“Are you fucking kidding me,” he said darkly. He’d not meant it to be out loud, but Rain seemed to like the reaction. He didn’t let go.

“Feels like part of you likes the attention,” he said, grinding his palm a little harder against him. Jacobs grunted as he found himself getting close to full mast and he could feel himself starting to drip. It’d been a while since he’d had to deal with an unwanted erection. 

He grabbed Rain’s wrist and twisted it away from him. He was careful not to hurt the boy, but his grip was firm. Immediate thoughts of bending the little slut over his perfectly made bed had to be pushed aside, though they did little to bring his arousal back into check. His voice was just as firm, “Not. Here.”

The boy shrugged his broad shoulders and took his wrist back. “Your loss.” There was no lisp, no coquettish hint of flirtation. Hell, he didn’t even sound disappointed. Why did that bother him?

Jacobs grunted, then shoved past him. This was going be a problem. How had the kid known? He wasn’t exactly closeted, but his personal and professional lives had always been disparate. He doubted his co-workers would enjoy stories about the ermine couple he liked to visit on weekends, or the glory holes he frequented at the Barracks. He frowned. He had run into one of the other interns at the Pit a few weeks earlier. Jacobs and an old college buddy had spit-roasted the slim rabbit once it was clear that was what he wanted. Could the two of them be friends?

For his part, Jacobs had his suspicions the summer before, but he’d seen no use for the hunch. Even in his apparent ‘awkward’ phase, Jacobs would have happily fucked the kid. He was cute-- and legal-- but in the end, there was no shortage of good sex to be found in the city. On the other hand, jobs that paid as well as this one were in short supply these days. He wasn’t about to risk six figures plus stock options to try hitting on the boss’s son. Or, at least he hadn’t been. Fuck. He had to think about something else.

Rain hadn’t followed him, and whoever had fucked in the downstairs bathroom had apparently finished, so he waited out his erection in there. He had a hard time getting his mind away from sex-- the memory of fucking that rabbit didn’t help. After splashing his face with cold water, he stared at himself in the mirror. His thoughts drifted to his interactions with Rain the year before. The boy had been all stutters and blushes when Jacobs called any attention away from what they had been working on. He'd just assumed the boy was nervous and awkward, and hadn't thought anything more of it. He'd grown so used to separating sex from work that It had never occurred to him the kid might have a little crush. In hindsight, he had a hard time thinking it had been anything else. 
 
That line of thinking did little to cull his imagination. He found himself thinking about the way the lion's paw had felt against him, that cocky little smile, and, of course, how nice the kid's ass had looked. If it weren't for the whiff of meat smoke coming in from Stander’s grill, Jacobs might never have gotten his thoughts in check. The immediate wave of nausea flushed out any lingering thoughts of sex with impunity. He'd have to remember that trick. 

Once outside, it seemed strange that nothing had changed. His co-workers and their families descended on him like crows on carrion, and for once Jacobs welcomed the distraction. He smiled and lied his way through the awkward conversations with aplomb, and he even managed to keep that smile when a set of tiny raccoon teeth sunk into the meat of his calf while he’d been talking to the little brat’s mother.

The bull found himself with a salad of mixed greens and fruits along with a few vegetable kabobs. The food was good-- despite being a prick, Stander was a good cook-- but he couldn’t seem to take the same satisfaction from it that his other co-workers did when biting into their chicken breasts and hot dogs. Watching them tear apart their meat killed any appetite he might have built up, and he ended up throwing his half-finished plate away a few minutes after picking it up. 

Only half aware of doing it, he scanned the other tables. There were only a few other herbivores he could find, and most of them looked about as uncomfortable as he felt. Christ, what was the obsession with publicly cooking meat at these things? Maybe he should say something. He immediately dismissed the thought as pointless, though he resolved to bring an antacid next year. And to bring more booze. What he’d brought had barely left him buzzed, and even that was gone now. 

As dusk settled and the first stars started to appear in the clear sky, Stander gave the same bullshit speech he gave every year about his family’s flimsy ties to the American Revolution and how the company was founded by his ancestors only a few years later. Jacobs applauded along with everyone else, but not for long. Thankfully, by then, people had started moving chairs to get the best view of the eastern skyline. 

Stander did have one thing right. The city’s biggest fireworks display was at Garden Park, but going to it had always been a pain. Insane traffic, large crowds, lots of kids, and public drinking laws had always kept Jacobs from taking much of an interest, but the Stander’s back yard was only a block or two away from the park, and at a higher elevation. Ultimately, the view was better than anywhere else he’d tried. Left to his own devices, he’d be in the Barracks or one of his other weekend haunts, but there was something to be said for these kinds of shows.

Like every year, a pair of large outdoor speakers were set up near the back of the house, each blasting the radio station that would be providing the ‘official soundtrack’ to the show-- inevitable renditions of the “1812 Overture” and the Star-Spangled Banner.

As expected of him, he brought his chair away from the tables and set it up to face the park along with the others. He intentionally put himself at the end of the line so he could be as far away from most of the children as possible. His calf was still sore from the raccoon’s bite. Had the little bastard broken skin? He bent down to feel for a mark. No blood, at least.

He didn’t notice Rain until the lion was pushing his chair right up against Jacobs’s. “This looks like a good spot,” he said cheerily, as if nothing had happened earlier. “Oh, hi, Mr. Jacobs.”

Jacobs ground his teeth and straightened. No one seemed to even notice the fact that the boss’s son was right next to him. Stander and his wife were playing the gracious hosts near the middle of the crowd, and they had plenty of people to keep their attention.

“Shouldn’t you be with your folks, kid?” Jacobs gruffly asked.

Rain smiled innocently. “Why? They’re busy. I’m sure they wouldn’t want me getting in the way.” He brushed a few strands of fur over a rounded ear as he settled into his chair. “Besides, I’d much rather be with you.”

Jacobs doubted the double entendre was an accident and found his jaw clenching. He wasn’t sure why he was so angry, but his blood was boiling. He’d grown used to the deference most people usually showed him. At the office, he was head of his whole division, and even the random sluts he brought back to his condo ever got under his skin so easily. In another setting, he would have brushed the slut off, or given him what he wanted just to shut him up; but here, Jacobs just clutched the arms of his chair.

If Rain really was just teasing, maybe he should start playing along. Once the lion realized the kinds of things Jacobs had in mind, the twink would go running back to his little dubstep clubs to find other little prick-pleasers to rub dicks with. He wouldn’t even have to embellish much; Jacobs was rarely gentle with his subs.

He let his voice go low, “You really want it that bad, huh kid?”

Rain hadn’t expected that, and Jacobs let himself have a brief moment of satisfaction as his eyes briefly widened in surprise-- or maybe fear. 

It didn’t last long, however, and that cocksure smirk was creeping over the lion’s mouth just as quickly as it had vanished. “If you think you can get it up, handsome.” He placed a few fingers on the bull’s thigh. “Unless you think you’re too old to keep up.” 

Jacobs snorted. 

“Or does Dad scare you that much?”

That struck a nerve. “Fuck you, kid,” he growled, standing up from his chair before he’d even realized how close he was to snapping. He'd never realized how much he hated working for Stander. Well, it was too late to play the stoic now. He ignored the surprise on Rain’s face and stalked off towards the copse of trees he’d been looking at a little earlier. He should really have brought a second flask. 

He blamed the first flask’s contents on the fact that he had to piss again. Well, that and the lemonade he’d been drinking all night. Mrs. Stander hadn’t let his cup empty until she’d sat down to eat. Cursing, he made his way back down towards the trees. He really didn’t feel like going back through the house. As he unzipped and let his cock into the humid air, a series of bangs signaled the start of the fireworks display. In high school, his friends in the gym class had joked about his cock by calling it 'the cannon.' It seemed fitting to have one herald it now. Maybe even a little satisfying. 

Staring off into the night, he let go of his bladder along with a quiet sigh. At least he could still enjoy the little things. Of course, he'd barely had that thought before he noticed Rain approaching from the side. He swore under his breath.

"Mr. Jacobs," he called, his voice more like the one the bull remembered. 

He grunted. "Walk away, Rain."

The lion paused, running a few fingers through his mane. Jacobs could hear him take a shaky breath. "I just..." he stood up straighter. "Wait, are you...?" He trailed off, and Jacobs turned to see golden eyes going wide as he realized what he was looking at. He'd seen that look before; it was the same one the kind of sluts he usually brought home  made the first time they realized just how big he was. That had always turned Jacobs on before, and even in the awkward context of the evening, his body's reaction was no different.

All signs of deference vanished from the lion's voice. “Nice cock,” he murmured, tail lashing behind him as he slipped between a pair of close trees. The slut apparently didn’t mind the fact that he was still pissing. Hell, maybe he even liked it. That tone in his voice wasn’t as flippant as it had been the rest of the night. “Sure you don’t need someone to hold it for you? It looks pretty heavy.”

“Jesus, kid, can’t you take no for an answer?” A few fireworks went off overhead, casting an almost eerie series of green, purple, and red lights to the ground while the smell of sulfur grew stronger in the air.

He shrugged. “Do you really not like me?” he asked. There was that slight quaver again. "I thought maybe if I..." he let his sentence hang unfinished, swallowed, then looked defiantly at Jacobs. "Ryan told me what you and your wolf buddy did to him." He paused, then added, "I could do that. If you wanted, I mean. I'm better than he is."

He kept pissing, trying to ignore the way Rain was staring at him. He'd forgotten the rabbit's name until Rain said it. When he'd finally finished, he started tucking himself away, but something made him hesitate. The kid was right. In any other context he’d have already blown a load into the kid. He’d probably be working on his second by now. Why should this be any different?

Rain must have sensed that wavering resolve. He stepped closer. The feel of his long, slender fingers wrapping around the base of his shaft sent an electric tingle through his body. “Fuck, Brand, this thing really is heavy,” he said, lifting it as if to test it. He was getting hard again. Christ, what was he supposed to do here. It had only been a couple days since he'd last fucked something, but he felt as if it had been months. HIs thoughts were clouded by familiar instincts and urges-- urges he hadn't had to work to suppress for a very long time. Something snapped. The loud brass music blared from the house while more explosions of color overhead punctuated the bull’s sudden rage.

 The wooded area was dense enough that no one would see, the music was so loud that anything short of screams would be lost. Sure someone wandering back here might notice, but the fireworks were an awfully convenient distraction. If he was going to do this, he’d never have a better time.

Jacobs casually grabbed a fistful of the lion’s perfectly groomed mane, then casually used it to bring the slut down to the ground; his knees splashed when they hit the ground. The look of shock on Rain’s face made the big bull smile to himself. Rain barely had time to process what had happened before Jacobs was on him, and though Rain was strong, Jacobs’s superior size made it easy for him to pin the bitch’s wrists above his head. His thick cock was still out and half hard either from the prospect of what Jacobs planned to do, or from the rush of asserting his control.  

Straddling the boy’s chest, he brought his hips forward while grabbing a thick headful of hair to bring Rain’s head up to face what he’d been mocking a few seconds earlier. “Open,” he rumbled as a series of red and white ring shaped blasts were followed by bright crackling sparks reflected off the lion’s eyes.

The cat still looked dazed, but he knew what to do with a dick. Even if the angle was clumsy, he took it into his mouth while flicking a velvety tongue against the fold of his foreskin. On a normal night, Jacobs might have smacked the slut for taking liberties with his commands, but he wasn’t sure how much time he’d have and he really just needed to get his cock wet. Besides, submissives with a bit of initiative were underrated. He hadn’t thought to bring any lube, and though he had a few packets in his car, they weren’t doing him much good out here.

After a few seconds, the fear in Rain’s eyes gave way to the more familiar playful lust. He still didn’t understand what was in store for him, though as his jaw struggled to accommodate his girth and his eyes tried to focus on the lengthening shaft in front of him, he was starting to get the idea. The first sound of him gagging came a few seconds later, and once again the thin facade of confidence Rain had been wearing fell away.

“There you go you little slut,” he snarled. “Hope it’s everything you hoped for.” Jacobs sucked in his abs and pushed his hips forward, forcing the lion to take more than he really should. The slight downward curve of his dick made it a bit easier, but he still felt the occasional scrape of sharp teeth along his shaft. It wasn’t exactly comfortable, but he was rock hard now and he’d long since gotten used to the fact that he’d never get a really awesome blowjob from a predator—their mouths just weren’t wide enough, and their teeth were too sharp. That was okay though, they had other uses.

Deep-throating was out of the question, but Jacobs tried anyway. “Swallow,” he said simply, putting a little more of his own weight behind his cock for emphasis. To his credit, Rain did try, but he sputtered almost immediately, and Jacobs was forced to pull back or risk getting more than a light scrape from those teeth. A thick string of slimy precum and saliva joined the gasping feline’s mouth to Jacob’s dick for a few seconds, but the bull smeared it into the slut’s nose. More than half of the thick black shaft was glistening and wet, and a steady stream of precum was oozing out of his cock. That was good. He'd need all the lube he could get.

Rain hadn’t even caught his breath before Jacobs was stripping the boy below the waist, designer jeans and faggy underwear all at once. He liked the way the underwear had looked on the boy, but he didn’t need a repeat display to call that arousing memory up. Besides, he was much more interested in what was underneath. Rain gasped when he realized what Jacobs was doing, but like a good slut, he lifted his hips, helped push the tangled clothing away, then propped himself up to grab at the bull’s cock. Inexpert fingers fumbled at his belt, but lust spurred haste. A few seconds later, Jacobs was tossing Rain's shirt away, then shrugging out of his own. Vaguely, he recognized that he'd popped a few buttons from the lion's, but he found it difficult to care.

Rain had found his little smirk that had irritated Jacobs before, and that was good too. This was all about taking what he wanted, and what he wanted was to make it hurt. He let the lion saunter closer; even let his own thick fingers wander over the curve of his hips while fingers followed the line of his cleft. Rain squealed when Jacobs grabbed an arm and twisted him around in a painful hold. Only the distant ‘awws’ at the latest series of fireworks overhead kept the sound from being noticed.

The well-built lion was still wide-eyed and trying to process what was happening when Jacobs pinned his upper body against a thick, tree with enough force to scrape some of the rough bark away. He made a strained noise when Jacobs’ glistening cock dimpled his entrance, which only grew louder when he unceremoniously pressed past the tight ring of muscle trying to keep him out while a soft groan rumbled through his chest. Another series of white and red flares overhead provided strange illumination for Jacobs to admire the view of his thick tool slowly sinking into the gasping slut. It was only when Rain took a shaky, gasping breath that Jacobs realized he’d knocked the wind out of the kid. The thought just made him smile.

The “1812 Overture” had stopped some time earlier, and Jacobs found himself fucking his boss’s son to the big brass sounds and regular beat of “The Stars and Stripes Forever.” In some dark corner of Jacobs’s mind, he was surprised at how well the steady rhythm of the march worked just as well for fucking. He doubted he’d ever think of the song the same way again. 

He was still pinning one of Rain’s arms to his back, and pained sounds were coming from his throat each time the bull delivered a battering-ram thrust to push through the resistance of the boy who, despite all appearances, was tighter than he would have guessed. He was barely conscious of covering the bitch's mouth with his free-arm to muffle the sounds, but he did briefly wonder if the wanton slut routine had been an act. He couldn't remember the last time he'd felt something so tight wrapped around his dick. Of course, that thought was quickly lost to a surge of pleasure that accompanied the feel of his hips slamming home. He barely kept himself from shuddering. 

He didn't take long to savor that initial satisfaction he always got the first time he hilted in someone-- despite the way his thoughts were clouded, he was well aware of how dangerous this could be. Of course, all that really meant was that Jacobs had to indulge the powerful instinct that was telling him to fuck for all he was worth. If someone did happen to see them, there would be no mistaking what was happening. After a few tentative rocking motions to help loosen the lion, he didn't hold back. Grunting with each movement, he delivered thrust after long-dicked thrust with all his strength, oblivious to the way Rain was shuddering from the pain, the short screams against the his palm, or the tears starting to flow down his fingers. 

The beads of sweat forming on his chest and brow soaked into his coarse fur as he approached his climax. He'd completely lost sense of time, or much of anything else. How long had it been? Forcing himself to think he saw that the colored explosions overhead were more elaborate now. That wouldn't last much longer. The loud smacks of his body crashing into Rain’s were lost amidst the louder crackles, thumps, and booms of the show, and Jacobs surrendered himself to his lust. 

Rain had to know what was coming but he still shuddered when Jacobs delivered three slow, deep thrusts, then hilted himself with a stifled cry of triumph. For an instant, everything was completely still, and then then bull’s cock began throbbing with enough force that he could have counted the contractions. That was enough to set the lion over the edge. In spite of everything, several hot blasts of semen were splattering against the tree with enough force that some of the splash caught Jacobs's lower legs. The extra sensation of the lion’s ass rippling around him in orgasm. A rictus snarl curled his lip as Rain reached with his free hand to feel the cock that was breeding him. 

When the bliss of his climax had finally faded to the warmth of afterglow. Only a cascade of flashing lights and sounds brought him back to reality. This would be the big finale. Not much time before people noticed they were missing. There was a lewd wet sound when Jacobs pulled out. Like most bulls, had never wanted for volume. Most guys seemed to get off on it, but he had to admit that it might be inconvenient here. Viscous, glistening semen was already oozing down Rain’s thigh, which just made Jacobs want to admire his handiwork. If circumstances were different, he’d probably snap a few pictures and be up for another round, but in this case, he’d just have to let his memory do the work for him.

He finally let go of Rain’s arm, and the lion gingerly grabbed his wrist, then stretched out his shoulder. “Fuck, Brand,” he whimpered, voice unsteady.

Jacobs was already getting dressed. His shirt had a small stain on the shoulder, but it would still do the job. He grunted as he started buttoning up. He hadn’t managed to find his underwear yet, but his pants had hooked on a branch a few yards away.

Rain grimaced as he rolled his shoulder, which just made Jacobs smile to himself. “That...” he was stumbling over his words, which probably meant he was still processing what had happened. Jacobs would have bet he’d never had anyone treat him like that before. “That hurt.”  

No shit it hurt. Kid would be lucky if he could walk straight in the morning. “Did it?” Fuck, where was his belt?

“Yeah,” he said softly. There was a lull in the fireworks overhead which meant the next would probably be the last.  Rain didn’t have to work nearly as hard to find his clothing. He was stepping into his pants when Jacobs had finished haphazardly putting his belt back on.

There was no guilt, and certainly no regret. All the uncertainty from before was gone. He realized he felt more confident than he had in weeks. “You’ll get over it,” he said checking his pockets to make sure he hadn’t lost his wallet or keys. "You should probably get inside and shower before anyone sees you." 

Rain was still standing there looking like a kicked puppy, stained pants loosely clutched in both hands. “C-Can I call you or something.”

Jacobs couldn’t help the simper that crept across his muzzle when he slipped his hands into his pocket. “Knock yourself out, kid.” Maybe these parties weren’t so bad after all. Tail lashing behind him, the bull walked out of the woods as the last explosions echoed off the hillside. It was almost time to head home. Maybe he still had time to hit one of the bars.