Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/ works/10873557. Rating: Explicit Archive Warning: Choose_Not_To_Use_Archive_Warnings, Underage Category: F/M, M/M Fandom: Original_Work Additional Tags: Sibling_Incest, Cheating, handjob, male_fox_/_male_wolf, male_fox_/ female_fox, Accidental_Incest, Porn_With_Plot, Porn_with_Feelings, Furry, Nude_Photos, Masturbation_in_Bathroom, First_Time, Public_Sex, In_Public, Birthday_Sex, First_time_with_a_man Stats: Published: 2017-05-10 Completed: 2017-07-29 Chapters: 3/3 Words: 7298 ****** Unfaithful Fox ****** by FantasticStan Summary It's Stan's 18th birthday, and his girlfriend is, predictably, too busy studying to come. So Stan starts making some impulse decisions. ***** A Handy Friend ***** Stan had kind of messed up the whole business of having friends. Apart from family, he only had one guest at his 18th birthday party. While he was a bit conscious of this, the orange fox didn't hugely mind. He still had one close friend, and he knew that made him incredibly lucky all things considered. He was sitting in the back seat with Alfie, and his mum drove. Alfie was a dark-grey wolf, slumped into the corner carelessly. His slightly pudgy frame was dwarfed by a baggy old hoodie. There were other people he got along with, of course. But they were all busy. It was kind of odd that Alfie would be the one to pull through. It's not that they didn't get along. They did, famously. It's just that Stan had good grades and stuck to the rules where Alfie really didn't. "So how's Nicole been?" he asked. "She's grand," said Stan stiffly. Nicole was a model student, even more than himself. She was best known as that demure fox with the red fur, cheer captain, and was never seen without at least one textbook, just in case she could snatch another few minutes of cramming. She was dedicated and commendable and probably the most employable person in a hundred miles. What's more, she was cute too, and Stan knew he was lucky and should be happier. But she didn't have the most generous spirit, as demonstrated by how she was, predictably, too busy studying to go to her boyfriend's birthday. Alfie nodded. He knew better than to push it. "That's nice. Brianna's good too." "I know she's good. She's my sister. I live with her." The car pulled into the drive and they all wombled out. Brianna came outside to greet Alfie, who let her nuzzle him for a few seconds. He wasn't too enthusiastic about Public Displays of Affection. Despite being a bit protective, Stan didn't mind. 'Cute Little Chirpy Red Fox' with 'Grumpy but Privately Affectionate Dark Wolf' was too obviously cute to be uncomfortable with. There was the usual birthday rigmarole of cake and candles and singing. Once Brianna was preoccupied with cake and a glass of red wine, Stan and Alfie were left alone in the fox's room. Alfie had insisted on checking his SuperGem X roleplay. "Is your ex still on that site?" Stan asked. "Yup," said Alfie, who, to his credit, genuinely didn't give a shit. "She has a different character now. She plays Kate because she knows all the guy fans have a huge hard-on for Kate. And a few girls do too, obviously." "Kate is pretty hot," Stan conceded. He'd never completely trusted Alfie, but he served a great function in his life in that he was one of the few people he could talk about girls to without being self-conscious. Even though he was much more obviously cool than Stan, they had some common ground in that they were rubbish at social interaction in the exact same way: being nervous about saying the wrong thing, not knowing what other people's boundaries were. They didn't have to worry about that with each other, because they didn't have boundaries, and Stan was definitely straight. Besides, his other world of backstreets and sleaze had an allure in how it was all so different and intimidating. Stan shook himself and carried on. "Yeah, sorry, drifted there. Kate is hot, but I never understood the hype. She's not exactly on par with Tiffany Hart." "Tiffany Hart?" "Do you know Destiny Warriors?" "No. Sounds kinda lame." "It is pretty heavily dorky, but you have got to see Tiffany Hart. She's unabashed fan service." Stan scooted the computer over from Alfie' lap to his. A search of her name produced a page of black-cat-lady images. She was hot in a conventional way - big boobs with a belly top and shorts - but more successfully so than average. "She was my first love," said Stan. "Like, when you're a tiny kid and there's the one character who makes you feel tingly." "I would tap that," said Alfie. "And then I would stop tapping that, and then I would tap that again." His incoherent babble of horniness made it obvious that they both wanted to get off to the pictures but couldn't because they were lying next to each other. Alfie had an idea. He started poking Stan all over his torso. On his chest, in his sides, on his belly. "What?" said Stan. "I'm trying something," said Alfie. The little jabs were sending sensations all around him. Clearly, Alfie knew where to find someone's sensory weak spots. In a swift motion, he pulled away the laptop before Stan could stop him. Without really realising, he'd been hiding a bulge underneath. Stan looked up to see if Alfie had noticed, but, of course, it was the entire point. "I guess that's for Tiffany," he said passively. "Same as mine." Stan wrung his hands. "Yeah, totally. Of course." "Or I could give you a handjob." "Uh, I've never done this with a boy before." Alfie grinned widely. "Say that again." "I've... never done this with a boy before." "Mmm, that's right." "Dude, your girlfriend is in the other room." "Fuck it." "And I have a girlfriend." "Like you care. Or she'll ever find out." Stan mulled this over quickly. Why was he so immediately inclined to cheat? Because really, he'd been happy with Nicole for seven months now, and Alfie had been his friend for years. A good friend. That's more than Nicole was being. "Yeah, sure, go for it." No ceremony needed, Alfie immediately started unbuttoning Stan's fly, staying lying down. He pulled Stan's cock out from his boxers. "Nice," he grinned, impressed at its girth, and he started to move his hand up and down. "Don't worry, I'll make it quick. You won't last too long." Stan laughed. He was probably right. It was weird but great how natural this was, how there was no awkwardness to it. There was no kissing, but they were smiling. Their tails reached out and entwined, hanging on for support as they became breathless. And there was no denying the thrill of Brianna being just in the other room. He tried to keep track of her voice and see if she was coming, but Alfie saw this. "Don't tense up. I'll keep an ear out." Stan lasted just shy of ten minutes without meaning to. It was force of habit more than anything. He always made himself last a while because of all those horror stories about premature ejaculation, and now he almost went the opposite direction. But he was still very new to all this and was easily susceptible. When his breath tightened, Alfie sat forward a bit to cup his other hand just above the head. It took a few seconds longer than usual, but he came, and came hard. Most of the threads shot directly into Alfie' palm, though some of them flew up Stan's t-shirt. Alfie chuckled in satisfaction, then in disbelief as five seconds had passed and Stan's cock kept steadily spurting. It kept going for about ten or twelve seconds before he was done. "Jesus," Stan tried to stifle a laugh. "Should I be worried?" "Nah, that's normal," said Alfie. "You come more if you're with someone else." "You mean my genitals can tell if they have company? How does that work?" "I dunno, but my hand is completely covered in your jizz. I better clean up. I'll bring some tissue back for you." Stan was just standing up to go fetch a new t-shirt when Alfie opened the door and walked into Brianna. Keep the head, Stan assured himself. He was out of her line of vision. "Hey, Alfie, have you seen Stan?" she said. "I think he went out for some air," Alfie said breezily. Brianna paused, smiling coyly. She always knew when something was up. "What were you doing in there?" "I was just using the-" Brianna grabbed his left wrist and pulled his hand up, smiling widely. There was no denying it. The sticky substance stuck out way too much against his black fur. "Jesus, at least use the bathroom when you want to get off." Alfie shifted his weight from one foot to the other. "Yeah, well, uh-" "It's not often I see you embarrassed," said Brianna. She looked over her shoulder quickly. Nobody around. She turned and quickly took his index finger in her mouth, then pulled it away, sucking off all the come. Alfie squirmed uncomfortably, but she licked the come off each of his fingers in turn. Looking him in the eye, she made a deliberate swallowing motion. "You forgot what you have me for," she said. "Now go clean yourself up properly." She turned on her heel and went back into the kitchen for more cake. Alfie looked back in the room at Stan, who was still clutching his spent cock, staring not at but through the wall. "Well, that's what you get for cheating," said Alfie, and went off to the bathroom for tissue. ***** Stan and Nicole's First Time ***** Chapter Summary Seven months before Alfie took him in his paw, Stan and Nicole had their first steamy meeting. Stan was writing smut on a train when the teenage cheerleader sat down at his table. He's never been with anyone before, but it's not long before his story starts to come true. Chapter Notes See the end of the chapter for notes When he was a puppy, Stan used to love trains. His favourite toys were his model steam engines which he could push along the little wooden tracks. When he was older, he wasn't so enthusiastic. Ten hours on public transport will do that. But he would, all the same, remember that train ride as a simpler time when his relationship with Nicole was less complicated. Besides, while he was stuck on the train, he found ways to pass the time. The orange fox was set up in his usual seat. He was expecting to go out to the cinema with friends as a belated 17th birthday party of sorts for himself. Instead, with only a few hours' notice, he was going down to a meeting for the arts festival he was volunteering with. The blizzard splattered against the window from all directions as the train pulled out of the station. He used to think trains shot out of the station with purpose and billowing steam. Really, they just glided off as if they'd gotten bored of hanging around. With a new document open on his laptop, he placed a book on his lap to conceal himself and inconspicuously glanced over his shoulder to make sure nobody could see the screen. Writing smut on the train was always a bit of a thrill. There was nobody sitting at his table, but it wasn't as if the carriage was empty. A few stops later, Stan was distracted by a screech, kind of like the sound that Beaker used to make. Beaker was this kid he knew back in secondary school, and since he was a parrot, he was obviously pretty good at impressions. So he'd scream the word ass in a different voice so that another kid would get in trouble. It didn't take long for him to get found out, and he got sent to the principal's office, where you're presumably allowed to scream ass all you want. It wasn't ass-screaming Beaker, though. It was a red fox in a wet white t- shirt. She had a nose stud, and her shorts had a brand printed on the butt, which was probably a form of ass-screaming. Adjusting her backpack, she toyed with her blonde highlights as she scanned the carriage for the best seat. Damn, she was cute. She crossed her arms over her chest, conscious of the soaked, semi-transparent fabric. Looking without looking, Stan could make out the matted fur of her teenage breasts. He might put that in the story. The girl turned on him. To him, that is to say. "Oh my God," she said. "This is the worst trip ever. Did you see the snow out there?" She was talking to him. Stan was alarmed by this, and not in an entirely pleasant way. It was rare that any attractive girl talked to him on the train, let alone when he was in the middle of something. But she most definitely was talking to him. He could almost see her lining him up in her crosshairs. "It's pretty bad," he attempted. "I'm going down to Tango City?" Stan chuckled a bit. "You said that like a question." "I didn't mean it like that." "I know. I don't mind, obviously. Don't worry. I hear it's actually called Uptalk." "Really?" she said. "I never knew that." "Nothing much, what's up with you?" said Stan. The joke hadn't worked, but that wasn't going to stop him, and she was laughing anyway. She put her bag under the table and sat down opposite Stan. It was a careful sit, with her knees angled together and her heels turned out. This was the perky sitting pose of someone used to being the most adorable in the room. Her bag was covered in polka-dots with smiley faces in marker. Stan excused himself to go to the bathroom and generally pull himself together. He clicked over to the web browser and shut his laptop lid before ambling off. Nicole had received enough furtive glance in her life to know when someone was checking her out. And while she hadn't actually seen Stan's boner, she knew full well why he had a book on his lap. Once he was out of the carriage, she quickly spun his laptop around and opened it up. Nothing in any of the tabs, but- no, there was something here. Just then, with her legs pressed around his thigh, he could feel her heat pressed against his bare fur. Just the sensation of her naked body pressed to his was enough for his breath to hitch in the back of his throat. He could feel her wet on the legs where she'd been grinding, and her breasts were against his chest, squashing together to create a plump cleavage while her lips trailed up his neck with an airy whisper. "Do you want me? Do you want to feel me wrapped around you, catching you tightly inside of me? I need you." She trailed off and exhaled thickly. "Can't you tell I'm desperate for you?" Her hips shifted to ready her pussy lips around his tip, drawing it out. He felt a run of her sweet lubricant run down from her onto his cock head. The air was thick with the heavy, salty smell of sex. Her radiating warmth and the slickness that was coating those folds coated his tip, but only his tip. The mental association left him longing for the electrifying movements enabled by such thick wetness of his shaft, but she gave him nothing more than that torturous grinding while purring against his neck. Teeth scraped along, nibbling down to his collarbone before soft lips replaced them, working back up the same length, bruising him to mark her territory. She gave a rough grind that nearly aligned him to her leaking opening, nearly let him inside. "It's time for your payback. Take me." Fuelled by longing and frustration, he lunged for her hips and pulled her tight to him. His fingers clenched into her sides, and she moaned softly into his neck. He shifted, spreading her pussy wide around the head of his cock before Just then, the train jolted and slowed, throwing everyone forward. The wheels screeched as they scraped down the rails for a few seconds, and then they stopped, hard. Luggage thundered down from racks all up and down the train. Nicole slammed her chin off the table. Stan's laptop was launched into his vacated seat and plummeted to the ground. There was a collective wail of alarm as the overhead lights went out. Nicole pulled her head up from the table. There was a flicker, and the lights came back up one by one. The intercom popped. The voice wasn't in the news-presenter tone they used to announce stops. "Ladies and gentlemen, a conductor will be checking the carriages to see if anyone's been injured. Thank you." Nicole pressed her face against the cold window to see what the heck was going on. The glow of streetlights could be seen through the dense white blanket, and the road leading in was visible. Stan stumbled in from the vestibule. He was nursing a bruised cheek, but considering he'd been in the bathroom at the time of the crash, everything had worked out better than expected. He pushed his way through to Nicole. "Are you okay?" As Stan sat down beside her, Nicole saw he was trembling lightly. "Yeah, I'm grand," she said. "Bit of a bump, but nothing bad." The conductor, a purple hedgehog, threw open the door to our car and surveyed everyone. She was missing her hat. "What's going on?" Stan asked when she reached them. "Sorry, but we're not going anywhere," she said in a low voice. "We're just outside of Castleshannon. The snow's buried the tracks." The lights went dim, the heater audibly cranked down, and the intercom came back on. "Ladies and gentlemen, we're going to be saving on power. If you have blankets or jackets, put them on. If you have extra, share them. We'll provide what we can." Stan looked at the lights outside again, then back to Nicole. "Okay, so we could stay here on a cold, dark, stranded train," he said, "or we could actually do something." "Whatcha mean?" "I was supposed to be working today. A few hours ago, I found out I needed to get on a train for the other side of the country. I don't know about you, but I'm gonna take charge of this day that's run away on me too many times. C'mon, the next town is right there, you can see it. They probably have heat and lots of food. It's worth a shot." It occurred to Stan that this was a plan his ex-girlfriend Marissa would have approved of. She was into being proactive and efficient. That relationship didn't work out, but if her personality had rubbed off on him, that was no bad thing. She was a decent person, especially considering her, eh, skills. "What if the train leaves?" said Nicole. "It's not," said Stan. "You heard the conductor. We're stuck here all night. Over there, they probably have heat and food and a place for people to move around." We picked up our backpacks. "And don't worry, we'll have to come back, right? Where else are we going to go?" They slipped into the vestibule together and pressed the little green button. The door hissed and slid open. Through the swirling snow and gale, those yellow streetlights could still be dimly glimpsed. Nicole turned to this stranger. "I didn't catch your name." "Stan. Yours?" "Nicole." "Nice to meet you, Nicole. Now jump." Nicole took his hand in hers and followed him into the dark. Stan had never crossed a six-lane road before. There weren't many of them in this country, and even if it had ever been a relevant option, it would have seemed like a bad idea. But there were no cars at all because of the snow. It took a while for Nicole and him to cross, since the wind was blowing so hard and flakes kept landing in their eyes. They were still clinging to one another's hands, even though there was no realistic threat of them getting separated. Stan was cautious at first, but the message was clear. He felt the jelly-like warmth of liking someone and being liked back. They rushed into the first café they could find, and felt the warmth rush over them. The windows had steamed from the heat. The predominant smells were floor cleaner and stale instant coffee, but there was a hint of promise. Sandwiches had been toasted here not long ago. People-wise, the circumstances weren't so hopeful. There had been someone at the till, but they had immediately disappeared when the foxes entered. From deep in the kitchen, there were two male voices, interspersed with slapping sounds and laughter, then muffled ecstatic screams. There was a pelican lingering in a cloud of her own misery in the farthest corner, an empty plate dotted with cigarette butts in front of her. The guy from the till dashed back out. He was a raccoon, probably about 20, and his face was shining with the kind of radiance usually associated with religious epiphany. Just looking at him made Stan tired. Two awed rhinos followed in his wake. "What do you need, honeybunny?" the racoon called to Nicole. Stan's hand was still in hers, but that wasn't dissuading them. She rolled her eyes. "Can I have a coffee?" she asked. She'd gotten this before. "Ma'am," said the racoon, "you can have whatever you want." The rhinos nearly broke their own ankles trying to get to the coffee machine. There was a newspaper and several whiskey bottles in front of one of the counter seats. Stan and Nicole went over to take seats a few spaces down. As they sat, Fabian made a sudden lurch in their direction. "Um, you might not want to-" He cut himself off and retreated a step as a short bear emerged from the direction of the bathroom. He was maybe fifty with worn grey-brown fur stained yellow around the mouth and large turtle-shell glasses. Oh, and he was wearing a nightie. Light blue with floral patterns. As you do. Nightie Bear took the seat with the newspaper and the whiskey and gave Stan and Nicole a nod of greeting before they could move. "How do?" he asked. The foxes backed up a bit in sync. He came off like a slasher from a horror movie. Who even says 'how do'? "Uh, no," said Stan. "We're grand." Fabian shook his head and gave them a back-away-while-you-can-it's-too-late-to- save-me look. Stan smiled and tried to develop a sudden and all-consuming interest in the menu. It only seemed right to order something. He scanned it over and over, as if he just couldn't decide between the cheese bagel or the artificial bacon bagel. "Have some coffee," Fabian said, coming over and handing them two cups. The coffee was completely burned and smelled rank, but this wasn't the time to be picky. He seemed to just be trying to win back Nicole's company, anyway.  "How are you?" Nicole asked Nightie Bear. Stan stared at her. Clearly, she was prioritising politeness far too highly. This was not the sort of individual you engaged with. "I have just enjoyed a most invigorating cup of coffee," said Nightie Bear. He punctuated this statement by withdrawing a whiskey bottle from inside his robe and slamming it on the table. "I do love a good cup. May I talk to you about cups?" Nicole felt the need to address the obvious. "Why are you wearing a dressing gown?" "What dressing gown?" On that, Stan abandoned both politeness and Fabian and led Nicole to a window seat. They looked at the workers clamouring excitedly back in the kitchen, then back to Nightie Bear. "Is there anywhere else we can go?" Stan asked. "I'd say everything else is closed in this storm," said Nicole. "We could go have a look around..." She paused, concerned for Stan. His frustration had been given away by the way he slammed his forehead into the counter. Back in college, he did that so often that his peers didn't know whether it was from despair or exhaustion, so they didn't ask anymore. "I'm gonna just pop to the bathroom real quick," said Nicole, and she did. Into the Disabled toilets. Stan peeled his face off the counter. The workers were still in the kitchen. Nervous energy crackled his brain. This was his chance. He slipped off in the direction of the restroom. The door was unlocked. Inside, Nicole stared at him, and he stared back. "What are you doing?" she asked. Stan reeled back in horror. "Wait, you're not actually peeing, are you?" "Oh, no, I'm not! I actually just needed a few minutes headspace away from all those other creeps. But why are you here?" "You gave me the signal." "What signal?" "You said you were going to the bathroom." Nicole rolled her eyes, and Stan shifted his weight from one foot to the other. Shame he didn't bring his book, or anything to stop her from seeing that he'd gotten excited. But she was just so cute. Her eyes were as delicate and powerful as the snowstorm outside. "Okay, there wasn't a signal," he conceded. "But you're kind of amazing, so can I kiss you anyway?" Jackie smiled warmly, closed the distance between them, and pressed her lips to his. Their eyes closed gently as they enjoyed the intimate moment. Stan gave a soft whimper and gingerly held her hips. He couldn't believe the amazingly hot girl who sat next to him on the train was kissing him. His hands moved around her tight shorts to feel her round, plump young ass cheeks. Nicole's heart skipped a beat as she felt his hands on her ass. A soft, muffled moan escaped as her tongue teased into his mouth and slowly swirled. It had been a long time since she had been touched quite so hungrily. But then, he was desperate. She knew that. Jackie pulled away from the kiss. "I know what you were writing on the train," she smirked. Stan, who had been freaking out the whole time, almost shrank back into the wall. After a few seconds of stunned terror, he managed a sheepish smile and a shrug. She leaned in to kiss him again, more gently than before. She lowered her muzzle a little and shyly asked, "I don't suppose you'd write a story for me, would you? A story about us." She leaned in to trap him against the wall, her hands on his shoulders, her chest pressed against his to make a crease of cleavage. Below, he was fully erect, and he knew it was obvious. But she was so confident and alluring. He bit his lip for a few nervous moments, then nodded, smiling. Nicole let go of a quiet moan and her whole body tingled as he slipped his hand up under her t-shirt and felt her maturing chest. There were still people outside, and they could get caught, but that just made it hotter. Stan lowered his hands and ran them along her sides, sending shivers all up her spine. He knew the sensitive spots, and he knew how to use them. His hands caressed the backs of her thighs, then returned upwards to peel off her shirt. He reached around to unhook her purple bra and toss it aside. Her breasts sprung free with a bounce and ripple. Stan looked up into her snowy eyes, and then back down, before hugging her close and kissing again. Whatever reservations the two of them had quickly melted, and they locked their lips together, building the passion for what was to come. Stan withdrew an arm to carefully grope at one of her breasts. His palm rested on the soft, firm curve and his index finger made slow circles around the nipple. Nicole gasped loudly as he toyed with it. The nub had been firm all day. Stan pulled his mouth away slowly from hers. "Nicole's nipples were hard from the cold, as Stan had seen through her tight, wet t-shirt," he began his story. She averted his gaze, embarrassed, but clearly loving the attention. "Stan had been hard for her since he first laid eyes on the perfectly sculpted form of the beautiful siren now pressed against him." Jackie squealed quietly and ducked her head into the crook of Stan's shoulder, hugging him close. She already found him attractive, but now she was deeply smitten. Her tummy was a little chubby, which Stan really liked, but he couldn't know if she was self-conscious or not. He kept the narration on the same track. "He leaned in, brushing his nose against her neck, and then his mouth found those amazing tits." Nicole smiled widely and looked away again. "His lips gently brushed against her nipple, teasing her, knowing he'd ensnared her. It was a wonder he'd found himself with such a beautiful creature. And then, he parted his lips..." Nicole exhaled in pleasure as his tongue dragged against her nipple. No-one had done this to her before. "This actually feels really good..." she said breathily, trailing off into wordless joy. "The canine boy, Stan, trailed a hand down to her sex, where he... where he found that a woman could be a lot wetter than he'd known before. Her passion was dripping between his fingers and matting her fur together. I mean, he didn't know what he was expecting, but this was amazing. May I?" His thumbs were hooked around the waist of her shorts. She pressed her hands to his and helped him pull them off, revealing the robust curvature of her thighs against her black panties. Her hands moved across to his own pants and undid his belt buckle. A shiver of anticipation ran through Stan's whole body. It was hardly his first time, but he still found it exciting to trust someone with this kind of physical intimacy. Her panties were stretched open when Stan pushed a hand through and made slow circles around her clit. She buried her muzzle into his shoulder again, moaning thickly. She was exposed, but she was letting herself be exposed, and they both knew it. A grin flashed across Stan's features as he rubbed his fingers against her. Nicole's head was spinning as those fuzzy fingers rubbed back and forth. Her chest heaved as she gasped for breath and tightened and built to the brink. She clung to him tightly and almost screamed in orgasm. The fingers pressed onto her clit, drawing out her release. Eventually, her body slumped into his and she relaxed her embrace, breathing heavily. Once she was recovered, he ran his digits gently along her slickened surface. Still whimpering, she moved to grasp his cock. By now, it was rock-hard, but dry and neglected. Stan inhaled sharply, longing for more. She leaned forward and whispered into his ear, "What comes next, Stan? What happens next in the story?" It was Nicole's turn to trace her fingers over her partner, and it was every bit as torturous. She dabbed a droplet of precome on the tip of her finger and swirled it around his cockhead. "The girl pulled him down onto his back on the floor and straddled his waist, pressing her wet, desperate sex intently against his shaft. Slowly, she moved back and forth, her juices lubricating him all along his length, before lining it up and sinking it into her tight, velvety pussy." And as she did so, they gasped together. As Nicole sank down onto his knot and felt him fill her completely, Stan knew the inside of a woman for the first time. "So tight," he moaned. "So big," did she. Together, the young pair began to roll their hips, slowly working into an enthusiastic rhythm. Nicole clamped down on his cock and tightened up around him, making him tip his head back in sensory joy. She kept clenching around him as little squirts of precome already started to coat her. She savoured the feel of him inside of her and the pleasure-pain of being penetrated so deeply. Time blurred. They rode for too long. It must have been suspicious, but they obviously weren't going to stop. Stan panted and growled, bucking his hips with increasing aggression and watching her tits bounce and jiggle in front of his face. "Getting close," he moaned gutturally. Jackie hopped off quickly and swiftly got down on her knees before him. Her ass sticking up in the air, she took his cock in a fuzzy hand and pumped it furiously. She took the tip in her mouth and swirled her tongue around. At the same time, another hand toyed briefly with his balls before she had a better idea. She quickly slipped a finger into her cunt and rolled it around, still working his cock. Once her finger was lubed up, she pulled out and pressed them up to Stan's tight tailhole, running her wetness all around his entrance. She looked up at Stan, and he nodded eagerly. Her finger pushed through and pierced him deeply. She flicked her wrist rapidly, leaving him loudly groaning and wrecked. He hadn't been fingered before, and she wasn't easing him in. But thank God for that - it was like a pleasure-shock right to the centre of his brain. He felt himself release, but was too breathless and ecstatic to see. All he knew next was that Nicole was kissing him again, and his come was in both their mouths. As they pulled away, Stan mumbled lazily through jizz-smeared lips, "D'you like your story?" Little did they know that in seven months' time, it would be an altogether different story. Chapter End Notes This is a previous short story I've written, Strangers on a Train, adapted to fit into the continuity. ***** Butt on a Bus ***** Chapter Summary A friendly lady Labrador sends Stan what seems to be a completely platonic picture of her ass. Clara’s phone blipped, and she picked it up from her bedside locker right away. It was the middle of the night, with only purple neon twinkling from bulbs and screens outside and no one else awake in the house. Wind blew through the skyscrapers all around with a metallic whoosh. The blond labrador was three hours into a conversation with her ex, an older gentleman canine. “You have such an amazing body I can’t get over it,” the message read. “I’m glad I looked back at these pictures. Send me another one. It’s almost enough. Just one more with the booty will do it.” She looked down at her body. There was no arousal afoot, that much was sure, yet the idea was enticing in another way. He was the only person she’d ever sent nudes to. Of course, they’d been dating at the time, which is why it was strange he was asking for more now. But she trusted him, and she’d never trusted anyone else like this. She set down her phone, turned on the light, and took off her pyjamas. Reaching back, she angled the phone as best she could to show her ass. It took a few attempts, but she got a good angle with a bit of sideboob. She sent it off. “Damn!” came the response. “God, that is perfect. Oh it makes me want to strap you down again so bad.” Clara typed out a message. “I trust you an absurd amount to have sent those btw. You are the only person to have received nudes from me. Sleep tight with that knowledge. Feel like royalty, your majesty.” “I do, of course. I appreciate it so much, and appreciate even more that I didn’t have to ask more than once. And I’d never show them to anyone, despite how proud I am and my desire to brag. Goodnight you sexy bitch.” ===============================================================================   Several and a half months after his eighteenth birthday party, several and a half miles north-east of the nearest town, Stan stood waiting for a bus. Most villages in this area were quiet, but Castleshannon was perpetually silent. He was always happy to head into town, just to have something to do. In those months, nothing had happened. Once Alfie left the party, he never spoke of the incident. When he messaged Stan a few days later, he spoke as if it had never happened. Stan didn’t know why, but he was scared to bring it up. It felt like he didn’t have permission. So they carried on as they were, their repartee a bit strained but friendly. Alfie also kept on dating Brianna. Every day, Stan’s little sister would make some happy passing remark about her boyfriend. It was better this way. Stan was happy with Nicole, although she wasn’t available to talk right now. She was, again, busy studying on a train journey. The bus was late. He was bored, and wanted someone to talk to. He took out his phone, snapped a selfie, and sent it to his friend Clara. Clara was good. She was the sister of a housemate who Stan bumped into and quickly hit it off with. The two of them had been talking ever since, though they lived too far away to meet up very often. She was short, and cut her hair short, and spoke with a lisp, and she was energetic in all her mannerisms. It was true that Stan found her attractive. But, as was often the case with him, he never did anything about that because it didn’t seem like a reasonable thing to want. She was a good deal older than him. She’d finished college a good while ago. She responded: “lookin cute” Then, “Can I tmi” Stan was always eager for these small glimpses that Clara allowed into her more private life. He just had to be careful not to betray that enthusiasm. “Hmu,” he typed. “I took nudes and im ridiculously proud of them” Stan laughed to himself. He wanted to say something to the effect of “great can I see,” but that would definitely be betraying the unwritten rules of TMI, even as a joke. “Nice,” he responded, then “happy 4 u. Were they just for you or someone else or the internet or what?” “Someone else,” came the reply. Then, “You’re super non-judgey so I wanted to say. I was talking to a recent ex for hours. It somehow ended with him asking for photos.” Stan: “Is this the guy you told me about before?” Clara: “Yes.” Stan: “Will you ever tell me who it is?” Clara: “No. He lives abroad and I don’t want people looking him up.” Stan: “Whatever. Fine. I think you should actually continue or actually discontinue that relationship, and totally cut contact if needs be. Do what you want but I think you should cut your losses by now.” Clara: “This was entirely a once-off.” Stan spent a minute or so searching for a narrows-eyes-suspiciously emoji. He didn’t have one, so he compromised with a :/ Clara: “It started with me asking if we could actually fucking talk because I had a lot bothering me. Anyway, I will say this: I totally trust him with those photos.” Stan: “dude that is a low bar to set. anyway i'm not grilling you here bc honestly life isn't complete without a few low-consequence bad decisions made while horny” The bus was pulling up at last. Stan boarded, paid the otter at the wheel, and took his seat. Clara had sent him another message. Clara: “I wasn’t horny. I don't know. I just didn't mind taking them and when I realised I didn't mind I wanted to” Stan: “ahh right” Clara: “And he was super respectful. I can send the screenshots with the photos cut out” Again, Stan was tempted to say something lewd, like “I wouldn’t want you to go to the bother of cutting them out, it’ll be fine.” But he went with “lmao sure” Clara sent the screenshots, and Stan read their exchange. Honestly, whoever this guy was, he came off as creepy. Not disrespectful exactly, but imposing himself. It was such a strange and unhealthy request for him to make of an ex he had no apparent intention of getting back together with. Plus, he seemed vaguely tempted to brag about the nudes to people, and his remark about not having to ask more than once seemed almost threatening, as if he wouldn’t have taken no for an answer. The part that Stan ended up taking issue with was “Did he, without irony, use the word booty” Then came Clara’s next message. “Do you want the picture of the booty? It is a good booty” Stan stared at his phone, moderately stunned. This was the least flirtatious offer of a nude he’d ever heard. Was she flirting? Did she just not care about or, somehow, not understand the whole social context of showing someone your ass? Also, he desperately wanted to see Clara’s ass. “Uh, sure!” he replied. The seconds crawled by. Then the picture popped up, her ass filling the frame. Stan quickly turned down the brightness on his phone and shielded it from view with his hand. There was an elderly llama sitting behind him, but she seemed oblivious. Clara was entirely naked, her torso twisting around elegantly. There was a huge curve from the back all away around her ass cheeks, the fur still lightly pressed in from her panties. Above, the side of her substantial breasts were visible, resting down against her frame. And obscured in shadow was her face, smiling in naughty satisfaction. A message followed: “Definitely a butt” “Thank you for trusting me with that!” Stan typed, then, with a moment of thought, typed “It sure is a nice butt.” Then, “and body in general.” “Thanks :x” A few minutes passed. Stan didn’t bring up the picture again for fear of getting caught. Clara didn’t send any further messages, and Stan didn’t know how to advance. After some time, the bus arrived in town and pulled into the station. Stan thanked the driver and disembarked. He knew that the bathrooms in the station were gross, but there was a theatre across the road. He’d worked there a few years previous and knew there was a bathroom on the third floor where he could take some time with the picture. He crossed the road hurriedly and entered the building. Once inside, he was caught up in a flow of bodies. Animals in all shapes and sizes in various cheap Victorian costumes were milling about, apparently in preparation for an imminent show. Stan approached a huge boar in a suit, who stood by the staircase. “Uh, hello,” said Stan. “Can I go up?” The boar crossed his arms, and the muscles shifted around each other like a series of SUVs parking. “What’s your business?” “Oh, I’m with the show,” said Stan. “I’m late. Need to get my costume.” The boar nodded. Stan didn’t dawdle. On the third floor in a secluded corner was a small restroom. Stan looked around. All clear, with nobody suspicious of his presence. He entered and locked himself. The room was reasonably fancy and comfortable. Stan quickly sat down, unbuckled his belt, and retrieved his phone to get the image. And there she was before him, her ass as thick and supple as he’d imagined. He gripped his cock, already hard, and started pumping his knot furiously. Years of longing he’d barely been aware of had built up to this. A thought occurred to him. He pressed the nearby soap dispenser to squirt some gel on his paw, and rubbed it all over his knot. Improvised lube was always fun for him. As he gripped his cock and stroked it swiftly, he felt the cold wetness on his shaft and imagined it was the wetness inside Clara. He imagined the feel of the inside of her ass, mounting her and pounding her, and all at once his cock spurted a great strand of come into the air and back down onto his paw. Then another, and another, as he threw his head back and moaned. His phone blipped in his hand. He nearly sprained his wrist checking it. It was Nicole. “Some guy was flirting with me on the train, haha” Stan wiped the come off his paw with a tissue and typed out, “Hah! So are you leaving me for him?” Nicole: “Of course not. I love you, and there’s no one else I’d rather be in love with.” Stan: “Feeling’s mutual” Nicole: “Auw!” Stan: “I wasn’t worried for a second, and I hope you’ll never worry either. :)” Please drop_by_the_archive_and_comment to let the author know if you enjoyed their work!