Ash thought that what Kristofferson did in class today was a cussin’ dick move. Here he was in Miss Muskrat’s elementary chemistry class and paired with Agnes in what can only be a dream come true. Problem was, she was more focused on Kristofferson rather than the assignment at paw. And then he had the nerve to flirt with her. He literally just arrived and he’s taking what Ash thought was his. Not that Ash and Agnes were an item or that Agnes was anyone’s property; he knew better than that. Rather, it was his space and routine being completely disrupted by Kristofferson. First at home and now at school.
Then there was that comment Ash made toward Agnes about how she was “disloyal”. He knew he shouldn’t have said that but it was done out of anger. He noticed that was the case ever since Kristofferson arrived. He spat a lot more. He moved from class to class with a noticeable scowl. His cape would get caught in some classroom doors, nearly choking him, followed by people snickering as they walked by. What a crock of cuss.
What Ash needed right now was a way to let out some frustration. Homework was done, dinner was hastily consumed, and everyone split up to do their own activities. Mom was in her studio painting, Kristofferson said he would meditate for an hour or so, and dad went off with that weird possum plumber for some “business”; he claimed it was some “town council meeting” or something that he’d write about for the paper but mom thought that was a little suspicious considering that the meeting wasn’t for another week. All in all, Ash finally had some privacy for a good length of time and he was long overdue to rub one out.
Ash had heard about masturbation from his classmates in the gym locker room. Of course, they’d swap crude jokes and flash each other on purpose. They’d never admit to playing with themselves but accusing others of doing it? Par for the course. He heard a number of euphemisms but the one he found the most confusing was “spank the monkey”, mostly because they lived in the countryside and monkeys weren’t common residents. Plus, the penis didn’t look like a monkey when erect regardless of species. Everyone believed that Ash never masturbated before but Ash knew the truth. He had but not actually “succeeded” in doing so, leaving it up to chance to wake up wet and sticky. No longer.
He climbed up into his bunk wearing some boxers and brought one of the White Cape novelizations with him just in case he finished or if he was interrupted. Now, how would he start? Ash thought back to that sex ed lesson and conjured some of those illustrations. He thought of the vaginal canal and how each species had a different shape. Each one, when aroused, would get moist and would help with penetration. With Ash’s size however, this would prove to be difficult. Even if he was fully erect, he could imagine girls asking if it was even in. How embarrassing.
So, what about the guys? There were plenty of illustrations showing the different stages of arousal for the penises of multiple species: canines, foxes, deer, rodents, and more. The mere thought of having the sheath slide out was enough for Ash to start pawing at his crotch, first on the outside and then slipping into his boxers. It occurred to him that Kristofferson wasn’t there for that lecture so he didn’t know if this stuff got him hard or if he was just into girls. But what if he was into one or the other? Or both? Had he ever jerked it? Did he even have this lecture?
Without realizing it, Ash had spread his legs apart and slightly arched his back while stroking his tiny shaft. These sensations were a lot stronger than usual, primarily because of these thoughts of Kristofferson’s loins. Ash imagined having him spread those legs so that he can get a closer inspection of his equipment. Oh, to see him fully erect and throbbing. A gentle touch of the balls and maybe feeling each one. Would he dare lick up the pre that leaked from the tip? Could he bring himself to place his maw on an area generally considered “dirty”? That would be a deliberate action. Ash bit his lip at the suggestion and closed his eyes.
And then there were his aqua blue eyes. Anyone could get lost in those with a simple glance. Agnes clearly did but Ash couldn’t help but think about how they portrayed an innocence. Sure, Kristofferson gave off an air of confidence that Ash could only dream of but he was sure there was something more to them. Ash imagined himself making the first move and kissing him. Just a simple peck and then evolving into something more.
Ash rolled over in bed and started humping his mattress. He wanted Kristofferson to be on the bottom in part because this was the last area where he could prove his idea of masculinity. Let the little man have his day in the sunshine. It’d be foolish to try and cuss him from behind so the next best move would be to grind against him. The balls would certainly touch, no question there. He imagined Kristofferson embracing him and slowly moving his paws toward his rump in an effort to support him with each thrust, speeding up ever so slightly.
Ash was in a solid rhythm and engrossed in his fantasy. His paws tightly gripped the bedframe and he found himself getting short of breath. Ash didn’t expect this much energy was needed to for mating purposes or otherwise but he kept going. The desire to cuss Kristofferson grew stronger in his mind that he started thinking about laying his tongue inside his cousin’s mouth. Surely that was something lovers did and maybe they could try that. Forward and backward. Forward and backward. Ash became overwhelmed and bit his pillow, his final motion before climaxing.
The electricity surged through his frame. Unaware of the intensity, Ash laid prone as his penis shot out rope after rope into his boxers. Five, six, seven. It stopped after nine spurts or so but all he could do was breathe a sigh of relief. He could now say he came by himself while he was awake; how he did it was not something his peers should know. He sat up and saw that there was a nice patch of seed drying up in the middle of the sheets. His boxers were just as soaked. Not wanting Kristofferson to see what happened, he hustled off the bed and slipped off to the bathroom with a fresh pair. No sooner had he entered that he felt a strong urge to pee.
He took off his boxers and sat down on the toilet like he usually did to pee, making sure that his member was inside the bowl. It didn’t make sense for him to stand in order to relieve himself, especially in public bathrooms where others might glimpse at what he didn’t have. He examined the stain he made from his adventure, feeling a little proud of himself. This trophy was only temporary; it would have to be washed. As he finished peeing, Ash couldn’t help but notice he was in a better mood. After flushing, he buried his now sticky boxers in the hamper to where mom or anyone else wouldn’t immediately see them. Paws washed, he went back to his bedroom. Nothing could stop him now.
He opened the door to find Kristofferson watching the trains go by. Rather than going back to his bed to “resume” reading, Ash sat next to his cousin.
“Do you smell something sweet?” asked Kristofferson.
“What are you even talking about?” asked Ash, fearing that he’d be found out.
“It’s this sweet smell. I can’t quite place it.”
“Mom must’ve put in some new pinecones or something.”
“I would’ve noticed them.”
“Anyways, how was your meditation or whatever it is that you do?”
Kristofferson had no idea how to respond. He didn’t think Ash would be interested in his activities but he could tell he was making an effort to be more approachable even though he seemed to be deflecting his questions about the smell.
“It was fine except for this odd thumping noise. I never heard it before in my meditations but it did keep me focused until the end.” Ash realized he was referring to the bedframe and how it wasn’t as quiet as he assumed. Ash made a mental note that he would have to try to masturbate somewhere else.
The electric whir of the train’s infinite loop filled the silence between them. Kristofferson put his paw on Ash’s leg again and Ash, completely chilled out from his session, rested his head against Kristofferson’s arm, breathing a small but contented sigh. Maybe this could work after all.