Content Warning: This story contains depictions of fictional cub characters in erotic situations. The author does not condone or support any depictions or acts in real life involving minors. If you are sensitive to this kind of content, do not read this story.

To Fake You Out

By TheWolf'sDen

It was a Friday after school when Keegan pressed the door bell of the Russo residence and waited on the porch, his ears twitching as someone approached the blue-greenish door on the other side. The approaching summer heat permeated in the air as he quickly wiped the sweat off his brow and tidied up his shirt and jeans to look a bit more presentable—but his excitement was hard to hide. The young coyote bounced from one foot to the other, making his brown backpack shuffle noisily side to side, and his tail wagged happily when the matriarch of the house greeted him, and then invited him inside like he belonged there. He quickly made his way up the wooden steps to the second floor after a few cautionary words were given to him, but Keegan could tell he wouldn't need them. After all, he knew Taylor far too much to believe he was actually sick. 
He stopped in front of his best friend's bedroom, knocking on the door and hearing a faint cough come from the other side—and shook his head at it. The yote slowly entered the Dalmatian's bedroom to see him on his bed, his hands shooting under the blanket before he brought a white balled fist to his mouth and coughed loudly on it. Keegan could clearly see through the canine's little act.

The Dalmatian fake coughed again, and then sniffled nothing but air. “Hey, mom,” he started in a voice that was far too clear to sound rough, “you can just put it on—” Taylor looked up with dazed, sluggish eyes before he registered who that was, immediately smirking before his whole expression changed. “Dude, close the door!” he exclaimed quietly.

Keegan giggled just as quietly and did as told, then walked to his friend's bed. “Don't worry sweetie, mommy is here to take care of you,” the Coyote said in a mocking voice, swinging his backpack off his shoulders and sitting close to his friend in bed, prompting the Dog to shuffle a little to the side.

“Eww dude, you would be a heck of an ugly mom,” Taylor said and held the pup's wagging tail as it brushed against his leg, then brought his portable console from underneath the covers.

“Heh, not uglier than yours,” the eleven-year canine shot back and swung his legs up, laying down and resting his head on the pup's chest.

Taylor scoffed and frowned. “Dude, you know my mom! That's a low one,” the Dalmatian said, flicking his friend in between the eyes and eliciting a small yip from him.

“Ouch! Okay, okay…” Keegan rubbed his forehead before he wrapped an arm around the Dog's midsection. “...I missed you today,” he added, looking up with hazel eyes to meet the Dalmatian's blue ones.

“Dude, it was only a day, and you got other friends. You know that, right?” Taylor teased, but was surprised when the yote narrowed his eyes and pursed his lips, his beige ears pinned back with clear judgement.

“Yeah, but you're also the only friend I have that pretends to be sick and that I have to bring homework to,” Keegan sneered and sat up.

The Coyote dug through his bag until he found a stack of papers—mostly classwork and homework some teachers had passed along, knowing he was friends with the delinquent wannabe that the Russo’s youngest child had come to be. In turn, Taylor smiled awkwardly as he watched the yote drop the stack on his desk and then zip his backpack shut. His eyes went back to the small screen in his hands before he finally paused his game and sat up straight. Or at least tried to.

Keegan heard the Dalmatian wince and then let out a small, contained yelp as he shuffled in bed, making him turn around in surprise. All the young canine saw from the corner of his vision was his friend quickly turning on his side, sitting in a way that looked rather uncomfortable, and trying to hide the pained expression on his spotted face. Keegan tilted his head and cocked an eyebrow up, taking a step forward while observing the Dalmatian.

Taylor felt awkward under Keegan's watching eyes, and gave a small grin that registered as nothing more than an embellished grimace. “A-ah c’mon dude, you love me,” he said matter of factly and then twisted a bit, kicking the blanket off him. “Can't go a day without me.” Taylor's grin suddenly became convincing as Keegan's ears perked up.

The yote shrugged and hummed, his smile coming back to his lips. “Yeah maybe,” he admitted with a small nod, “but I'm not the only one missing you,” he added and held up a finger, wagging it in front of him. “Mr. Bronson was asking about you even—of all people!” Keegan said and burst out into a yipping laugh, though it was lonely when he did so.

Taylor's eyes widened and his white cheeks burnt with a crimson tint, making the fairly cool room suddenly feel warm at the mention of their science teacher. The Dalmatian had been in a weird phase when it came to school: it felt boring, more than usual anyway, other kids were either annoying or cool, no in-between, and teachers were simply a pain in the ass. More than once he had been caught in another class, mostly of times P.E. since he considered himself an athlete, and a handful of times he would simply skip school altogether—just like he was doing that Friday.

However, what the spotted canine was truly delighted to do was make sure everyone in class had a reason to laugh, considering some teachers were insufferable. In these cases, Taylor wasn't as much of a delinquent as much as he was a class clown, which provided a balanced mix of notoriety and infamy to him. Some found it funny like intended, while others—the “nerds”, like Taylor had got to calling them recently—complained about the disruption. And Mr. Bronson's class was the one he stood out in.
In between the science-related puns, small remarks about the Bull's lack of a social life, and a few threats of putting elements together that, under no circumstances, should be mixed, Taylor made the laboratory his stage. But at the mention of the bovine's name and possible worry, the Dalmatian became an awkward mess—like the carpet had been pulled from under him.

He tried his best to look nonchalant again as Keegan took his breath back, and smiled at him. “Y-yeah, that old Bull should be worried! Can you imagine everyone sleeping through all the sciency-babble without me there to lighten up the mood?” He shrugged and sat up, though still uncomfortably.

Keegan let out a boyish giggle and nodded. “Yeah… I guess you're right,” the pup replied and approached with a small bounce on his step. “But hey, we'll play Prophecy all weekend! So at least you won't be bored being all—heh, ‘sick’ and stuff,” the yote exclaimed only to see the Dalmatian look sheepish and then deviate his eyes from him. Keegan followed his vision to see it was trained to the white gaming console on his dresser. “We… are gonna play Prophecy, right?” The Coyote sounded deflated, almost worried.

Taylor let out an awkward laugh and scratched the back of his head, but Keegan's voice made it hard for him to come up with a smart remark. “Uhh… N-no, sorry,” he muttered, looking down at his feet. “I let Robin Owser borrow it ‘cause his little brother scratched his CD. He said he would get his allowance this week and buy the digital copy, though,” the twelve-year old canine explained and looked up, seeing Keegan's smile turn upside down.

The Coyote's ears drooped and he let out a barely contained whimper. “But you promised!” Keegan whined and nearly tackled Taylor as he brought him down on the bed with him, eliciting a pained yelp from the spotted-canine—though the yote couldn't imagine why.

They wrestled for a bit, the type of activity they had been doing since they were only eight and nine, respectively—and the rules were always clear to them both—with the victor being undecided until Keegan managed to pin the Dalmatian down with his smaller, yet heavier frame. As much as the Coyote seemed upset, it quickly changed when he rolled off Taylor and laid on the bed beside him, curling into a ball and pouting childishly. He looked at the Dog with big hazel eyes and scoffed quietly—more in indignation than anger—and embraced the soft pillow as he rested his head on it.

Taylor turned to meet the Coyote's face, and sighed. “I'm so sorry dude, I really forgot about that,” he started and reached a hand to try and pry the grip Keegan had over his pillow, being successful after a few attempts and finally being able to see his sand-colored face. “I promise you next week I'll be on—no calling in sick bullshit.” His words were soft, careful in front of his friend.

In turn, the yote nodded with some hope, his tail wagging a bit with reassurance. “Okay… but I'm still going to grind up the levels,” Keegan said and received a soft jab of his rib that made him giggle loudly. “Y-yeah, you can't play s-so you can't stop me from getting better than you!”

“Pffft whatever, nerd,” Taylor shot back, his dull claws working their way on his friend's belly and eliciting more yips. “You better get ‘em levels ‘cause I'll beat your ass on 1v1. ” 

He stopped tickling his friend, and the pup jumped back on top of him, causing a new wrestling match to start. It only ended in fear of Taylor’s mom hearing and catching up on the Dalmatian's plot.

***

Monday, lunch break.

The weekend had passed at a gruesomely slow pace—well, for Keegan, at least. For one of the few times in his life, seeing the inside of the school cafeteria—or the school in general—gave him a weirdly relieving feeling as he patiently waited for his friend. His anxiousness had only grown with the fact that it had taken nearly half the day to see Taylor again. Somewhere between the Dalmatian still faking being unwell and wanting to skip the first period, the two canines hadn’t talked all morning. That was for the better, though, since the afternoon gave them time to actually sit down and catch up, instead of worrying about getting to class without a tardy slip. Not that Taylor cared anyway.
The Dalmatian walked up to the table with some swagger in his step, coming up behind his best friend, and plopping down beside Keegan with a weak slap on his back. It made more noise than it actually hurt the younger canine, but he still jumped a bit in surprise as he fished for his lunch in his backpack.

“‘Sup nerd?” the Dalmatian greeted as he pulled his red-lined, black bag on the table and looked for his food. “How was playing that suuuper nerdy game all by yourself?” Taylor's words weren't mean, if anything, they were sarcastic and teasing.

Keegan looked to the side and shook his head quickly. “You don't get to call me a nerd… l-loser,” he shot back playfully with a smile, his ears perked up high as he pulled his wrapped lunch out and tossed the sandwich on the wooden surface. “You missed one of the best weekend events! If I'm a nerd, then you're one hell of a loser,” he added with emphasis on the last word, and Taylor snorted.

The seventh grader deviated his eyes from his bag to his friend, a smirk forming on his lips as the Coyote spoke. “I see you're picking up on trash-talking. So proud of my little boy,” Taylor teased and reached a hand up, pinching Keegan's cheek until the yote batted it away.

“Hardy har-har, dude. But for real, it was so much fun!” Keegan exclaimed and took a bite of his food, chewing and swallowing a bit before continuing. “They closed the main lobby for levels 50 or higher, so you had to be good to actually get in the matches. And the Molar-Bent were on overdrive all day! And—” The young Anthro continued to babble as his friend hung up on every word.

For a moment, Taylor looked genuinely impressed, then upset he hadn't been there. “So… did you have to do all that grinding by yourself?” He asked somewhat concerned, knowing he was the better of the two at Prophecy.

The coyote lifted his eyebrows and snorted, trying not to laugh at his friend's sudden tone, but also because of the irony he was about to tell. “N-no. I sent Robin Owser a game chat and he replied!” Keegan couldn't contain his laughter when Taylor's jaw dropped. The Dalmatian was clearly surprised, and then upset.

“That! T-that… augh. Forget it.” He rolled his eyes and pouted as he got up to heat his food in the nearby microwave. Returning he grumbled something then sat back down, looking at the yote. “You're a traitor!” he exclaimed and punched his friend weakly on the shoulder.

Keegan yipped but went back to laughing as his best friend scarfed down the pasta he brought. “Nah dude, you missed it. Turns out that Robin is actually really good! Just as much as you are, I think,” he said and took another bite off his sandwich. “I can see why he would be so upset and borrow the game from you.”

“Yeah, gotta check on that too. He said he would give it back to me today,” Taylor said with his mouth full and then swallowed. “Man, it almost makes me rethink taking the weekend off…” he said half-sarcastically, half seriously. And that tone almost made Keegan jump on him.

“Dude! Why do you even do that?” The Coyote asked and turned his body to his friend. “You literally missed a whole weekend of gaming so you could what? Scratch your nuts?” That drew laughter from them both.

Taylor then tutted. “Ah, Keegs, you're too naive to understand the art of strategic truancy.” He punctuated his words with a small gesture of his hands, holding his fingers in an “Ok” sign.

Keegan's lips parted slightly and he raised an eyebrow up, staring at the Dog in confusion. “...strategic truancy?” he echoed the words with a small shake of his head.

Taylor let out a chuckle and snapped his fingers, pointing a claw at his friend before speaking. “Precisely. You see, I didn't come to school on Friday, so you brought me schoolwork, which means that I still have the same amount of time to study as any other student but without having to be in school.” The Dalmatian could see the gears turning inside the yote's head, and reached a hand to ruffle his dark-brown hair. “You will get it one day,” he added with a giggle.

Keegan shuffled away from the spotted hand and frowned. “I can't believe they let you pull that kind of stuff. And your grades are still good too!” the younger Anthro exclaimed and turned back in place, working on the rest of his sandwich. “This is—this is such…” he refrained from cursing, and Taylor caught onto it.

“The word is ‘bullshit’, Keegs.” The spotted canine chuckled softly as Keegan grumbled under his breath, his expression sour. “Ah, c'mon. Robin will hand my copy of Prophecy back and we can play after school. What do you say?”

The Dalmatian's persuasive words seemed to disarm Keegan's mood almost instantly, and he looked to the side to see Taylor stuffing his mouth with more reddish-sauce pasta. For a second he noticed how the canine sat upright, thin tail swaying, and even dangled his feet a bit off the seat—something he couldn't do just a few days ago. However, the younger canine shrugged it off, his attention focusing on the potential evening of gaming.

He sighed and tugged at the sleeve of the canine's maroon hoodie, bringing his attention to him. “You promise it?” Keegan asked softly, ears flickering back and forth like an anxious puppy.

“Yeah dude, for sure,” Taylor said and patted his friend's back, receiving an excited wag of his bushy tail as it thumped against their seats.

Keegan's expression brightened, ears perking up as they continued to talk and plan around their future hang outs. Time went by quickly after that, leading the pair to split once again before they could reunite in one particular class. 
One would think that the Dalmatian would do anything to skip it, but, weirdly enough, Taylor's attendance in Natural Sciences was almost impeccable—save for time the canine actually was sick and couldn't go to school, and his most recent trick.

Mr. Bronson wasn't a teacher that let things slip much. The Bull was very stoic, patient, and yet, very straightforward with anything regarding his class. Missing two or three of his sentences wasn't the end of the world, but it meant that you would be attending tutoring later in the week to make up for the missing explanation—the bovine dominated his area of study, but the strict time every class and having to deal with a certain Dalmatian, meant he couldn't loop through his words.

His classroom was as pristine as the white button up and jeans he wore—sterilized, functional, simple. The hum of fluorescent lights above the rows of tables, the occasional clinking of glassware, and the baritone voice of the Bull filled the air of the room with power that most students would yield to immediately… except Taylor.

The Dog had his back turned to the white board—the placement of tables allowing up to four students to stay in groups, though two of them had to crane their necks to see the front of the room—and didn't care that the Beaver beside him had already shushed him for the millionth time as he leaned back and crossed his arms behind his head, idly chatting with Keegan across from him. In turn, the smiling Coyote would lean to the right every so often to take notes on his notebook or hold a finger up for a brief moment to hear the Bull's words, only to lower it again and nod for his friend to continue. Those were the only times the spotted Anthro actually stopped talking. 
All students felt a collective sense of lethargy after lunch, and it being only the fifth period didn't help that matter at all; it made the silence in the room grow, and the Dalmatian's scratchy voice stood out amidst it.

Mr. Bronson was in the middle of explaining some basic yet interesting chemical reactions when his right ear twitched back. There was a small sway in his heavy horns when he shook his head and breathed deeply through his nose, the surgically precise scribbling on the whiteboard coming to a halt as he finished the chemical reaction. 

“And as y’all will see, mixin’ sodium and water ain't the brightest of ideas. Much like mixin’ me and small talk,” the Bull drawled as he peeked behind him, noticing how the furthest table from him suddenly went quiet.

There was soft laughter from a few students thinking that Taylor being indirectly pointed out would stop his antics—but all that did was bring a satisfied smile to his lips. Meanwhile, Keegan stifled a grin and peered down, pretending to read his notes, knowing something was coming.

Taylor cleared his throat and spoke just loud enough. “Dang, Mr. B. All this talk about explosions setting you off or something? When was the last time you had a day off, huh?” The comment drew some more scattered giggling.

Keegan let out a short laugh, but quickly stopped when Mr. Bronson slowly turned and stared at them. His eyes were indecipherable, and all the Coyote could do was mouth “Uh-oh” as their teacher approached his table and brought a detention slip from within the drawer—the pink paper popped out amidst the white colors of the classroom.
Taylor cocked an eyebrow as his friend's lips turned into a grimace, and jolted up a bit when the Bull leaned over him to place the paper on the black-stone table. The Dalmatian could feel Mr. Bronson's warm breath, and the heat of his body from the close proximity as he spoke.

“Russo, you got a real gift for talkin' without sayin' much, 'ya know that?” The atmosphere in the room changed almost instantly, and a low whistle sounded from one of the other Anthros. “‘Ya got a bright mind, son, shame you waste it jabberin’,” he added and patted the Dog, making him jump a little.

Keegan watched as Taylor's face turned almost the same shade of pink as the paper in front of them, making him tilt his head to the side, his ears swaying a bit as he did. He raised a thumb up, silently asking if his friend was okay, and received a small nod as the canine put the paper away in his backpack.
For the rest of the class, Taylor was silent, fidgety, and every so often he would place a hand in between his legs. His blue eyes would shoot to Keegan, who sulked after realizing that meant they wouldn't game much that evening, and that made the older canine sigh almost uncomfortably. Almost.

***

“Dude, I really didn't know he would get me detention over that,” Taylor explained as the pair made their way through the school yard. 

Keegan was ahead, his ears snapped back angrily and his usual skippy step had turned almost to stomping. “Yeah, that and all the other smack you do in his class,” he huffed as he glanced back. “Why do you even give Mr. Bronson a hard time? Sure, his class gets boring, but he's super nice.” The yote faced forward again as he pressed on. “It feels like you make an extra effort in his class, dude… just not in a good sense.”

“That old son of a Cow is as boring as watching paint dry, man,”  Taylor scoffed. “And I'm not making no extra effort there,” he added, watching as Keegan's ears and tail drooped.

The younger canine stopped as they arrived at the school entrance and turned to his friend. “Yeah, but you did enough to ruin the gaming plans again.” Keegan tried to sound callous, but instead croaked with a whimper in the back of his throat. “...it's like a priority for you.” His eyes cast down as he spoke, and he crossed his arms in front of chest bitterly.

Taylor exhaled sharply through his nose and chewed his tongue. As much as he wanted to deny, his best friend was somewhat correct. “I'm sorry man, I should've thought better.” He sifted his fingers through the yote's soft brown hair, knowing how he could get when moody. Keegan barely flinched at the touch. “Listen, I will just hop on later, I…” he trailed off when the canine looked up and cocked an eyebrow—he had already broken a promise today.

The Dalmatian thought for a second, and his ears perked up. He brushed his digits through the Coyote's scalp, receiving an involuntary, gentle whine from him as he retreated his hand and held a pinky out—black claw pointing up at the slightly shorter Anthro—smiling and shrugging persuasively. Keegan's eyes darted from it to the Dalmatian’s face and back, and then he frowned. 
To ordinary people, that was the symbol of a pinky-promise, but to the boys, it was something more. It was their way of asking for forgiveness to each other—more than words. And Keegan accepted it reluctantly.

He growled and rolled his eyes, hooking his own pinky with his friend’s and pulling so their claws clacked together momentarily. “Fine,” he groaned out, “but you better show up, dude,” he added before socking Taylor softly on the chest and facing away, knowing they were to part ways there.

“Heh, for sure man,” was Taylor's reply as he kicked his best friend's backside, making him jump and snap around.

All that the Coyote saw was the black and white blur as Taylor disappeared against the flow of other kids making their way out of the school. He huffed again, but failed to suppress his smile as he rubbed a hand over his butt. With a shake of his head and a renewed mood, the beige-furred canine caught up to the pace of the other students around him, making his way down the street and out of school premises.

It was within some good ten minutes of walking when he heard someone call his name. Keegan was already over halfway towards his house when he turned to see a lanky Rabbit jogging towards him. He recognized Robin instantly.

“Yo, dude,” the Rabbit panted, recovering his breath slowly. “Taylor got detention again?”

Keegan sighed loudly and nodded, having to look up to meet Robin's yellow eyes. “Yeah, that—uh… l-loser messed with Mr. Bronson, heh,” he tried to sound cool in front of the tall eight grader, but failed miserably as Robin nodded awkwardly.

“Yeeeeah,” the bunny dragged the word as silence set in between them—most of the swarm of students had dissipated at that point, leaving them alone on the sidewalk. “Anyway, I waited for the ass-sniffer at the entrance but he never showed. Someone had to tell me, otherwise I woulda been stuck there all day.” His tone was clearly annoyed.

Keegan caught onto it as he flinched and looked away embarrassed—of course Taylor forgot to get his own game back. “S-sorry, you know h-how Taylor can be…” he trailed off, realizing even if the Dalmatian was to make it back in time, they wouldn't play their favorite game.

Robin shrugged his thin shoulders, his face placid again as he took in the canine's apologetic tone. “Eh it's fine, not your fault,” he said and swung his backpack off his shoulders. “I know you got class with him, so do me a solid and give him this, okay?”

Keegan watched as the bunny fished for something in his bag only to produce a Prophecy CD case. He grabbed the white-colored plastic box in his hand and stared at it, giving him an idea. “Y-yeah, I got this,” he started, flapping the case back and forth. “Actually, I'm going to give it to him right now!” he added, his tail wagging.

“Oh?” Was Robin's response as the canine walked past him.

“Yeah, this way he can't back out,” the pup called over his shoulder, already jogging back the way he came. “Bye Robin! Hope we get to play again soon!” The Coyote giggled out, leaving the Rabbit with a confused expression by himself.

It didn't take Keegan long to see the interior of the school yard again, though he was surely winded from running the distance back. He made his way through the entrance and towards the main building where their classroom was—his pace was quick but somewhat hesitant as he came to a stop by the set of double doors leading inside. He first tried the left one, and then the one on the right, but both were locked.

“Ah, great,” he thought to himself, breathing in deeply and panting as he turned and walked to the outside stairwell leading to the second floor. All he needed to do was wait until detention time was over, so he took a seat on one of the steps. For a moment, he wondered what, or how, Taylor would tell his parents about getting yet another detention in Mr. Bronson's class—the cub seemed to almost follow a pattern with it. But his worries were quickly dismissed when he remembered that Taylor had gotten away with much worse before. He giggled quietly at the memories, his ears filled with the sound of cicadas in the nearby trees.
Although he was in the shade, the heat still made him wish he could go inside, just so the AC could wash over him—and that was when he remembered the backdoors. He stood and made his way to the right, slowly creeping along the building, and then took a left—the kids had named that narrow corridor “The Alleyway”.

It wasn't really an alleyway as much as it was the covered fire exit that stood in between the main building and the gymnasium, which gave it an almost somber and decrepit look. However, students were familiar with that path, not only because the backdoors led it, but also because the same set of doors were adjacent to Mr. Bronson's classroom, and to the classroom across from his; the Bull notably used the exit whenever he took his class outside to the garden and agricultural site in the back of the school field for hands-on learning—some kids even joked that the wet and dark view matched with his teaching style as his set of windows faced it. 

Keegan let out a small chuckle as he stepped under the shade and spotted the set of doors which were usually unlocked, but came to a halt when murmuring reached his ears. He glanced to the side and up a bit, expecting to see the brightly illuminated interior of the science classroom, but was surprised to see that the blinds were pulled down. Tilting his head in confusion, his ears flickered as the low, rumbly whispering travelled in the still air, followed by a much smaller voice, and then a soft yip. 
The young canine scanned the glass panels one by one, and found one that was ajar, likely not properly locked. He peeked in, pushing the blinds aside carefully, and dropped the CD case immediately.

It clattered softly as it hit the concrete below, but the yote barely processed it as he stared forward in shock. His ears perked up high, his eyes widening at the scene: he could see Taylor sprawled on one of the group tables, only his white briefs around his right ankle as his legs were spread and lifted up by Mr. Bronson's strong hands, his ass to the air as the Bull's face was pressed against his cheeks—the long, fleshy bovine tongue worming its way inside the Dalmatian's most private place. Each lick and slurp elicited a yip and a moan from the canine, who clung to the white horns as his small canine member twitched, dripping clear precum on his white belly.

“S-slow d-down!” Taylor moaned out and wiggled a bit in protest, though his wagging tail didn't hide his excitement.

The black-furred Bull took a long lick up the Dalmatian's taint, brushing over his pert mottled sack before he reared back to face his student. “Makin’ a scene even outside class hours?” Mr. Bronson started and brushed his hooved fingers down Taylor's spotted leg, laying a thumb against his moist entrance. “‘Yer gettin’ too spoiled, boy,” he added, and pressed his finger in. 

The Bull had his white shirt unbuttoned and showing his broad frame, sweat dripping down burly his chest and the sides of his face. Keegan imagined how muggy the classroom should've felt.
Taylor gasped as his hole was invaded by the hoof's rough texture, making him whimper and tense up a bit. Not being able to reach for the horns he once held onto, his hands scraped against the table's dark surface, leaving small claw lines while he chewed on his lower lip to suppress another guilty moan.

Meanwhile, the sixth grader watched it all unravel with a gaped mouth, his little fangs exposed to the air as his body trembled in a weird mix of fear and anxiety. “What's going on? Is this for real? Should I get out of here? Should I tell someone?!” The questions raced through his head as Taylor's stifled moans and gasps reached his eardrums, drowning the sound of his fast beating heart in his chest.

“Already tightened up from the last time, huh?” Mr. B. almost chuckled as he inserted a second finger in, stretching the pink ring of flesh as Taylor whined. “I reckon ‘ya got more talents other than playin' the wisecracker, son,” he drawled and pulled his fingers out with a wet pop, leaving the twitching hole alone for the moment.

Taylor's legs trembled a bit. After the initial burning in his entrance, the pup was left with a weird yet familiar sense of emptiness inside him. And he craved something to quench it. “Nnngh, Mr. B., I-I… I want it…” he stumbled through his words, his cheeks red and his blue eyes slightly watery as he looked up to meet the Bull's brown ones.

Bronson shook his head and tutted, his ears twitching back and forth before he landed a hand on the canine's bottom—the spank drawing a surprised yelp from Taylor. “Think ‘yer in a position to make demands, Russo?” Mr. B asked sarcastically and held the Dalmatian's red cock, rubbing his pointing finger and thumb on the exposed knot. “This ain't ‘yer first time. Should know better by now,” he added, giving the bulb a firm squeeze and drawing a long moan from the pup.

Taylor closed his eyes as another heavy flow of pre dribbled from his red tip. His teacher knew how to push his buttons, even though he hated to admit it. “P-Please! Mr. B. please…” he begged, opening his legs needily.

The Bull pulled his student to the edge of the table, his expression cold as always as he reached a hand to the fly in the front of his jeans, and pulled the zipper down. “That's much better, son,” he said, unbuckling his belt and undoing the tail loop, letting his tail whip side to side free as he stood in only his green-stripped boxers. “‘Ya see, I almost don't mind rippin’ ‘em detention slips if ‘ya behave like a good pup.” Mr. Bronson's bellowing voice rumbled in the room.

The words made Keegan snap back to reality. Even if entranced by the whole scene in front of him, in that moment he couldn't help but clench his teeth shut to contain the surging anger. He turned around and flailed his arms in frustration, walking away from the window with brief, speedy steps. 

“He's been flaking out on gaming with me j-just to get b-butt…” he barely could finish his words before he raised his shirt to his face to muffle them. “Buttfucked! B-by our science t-teacher?!” He let go of it and returned to the window, picking up the CD case and staring at Taylor as Mr. Bronson began peeling his underwear off, unintentionally revealing his muscular backside to the Coyote. “I hate you…” he muttered under his breath, and huffed uncomfortably when the Bull dropped his boxers around his ankles.

The Coyote's eyes immediately darted to the bovine member—it was huge, especially when compared to his own or Taylor's. The dark-skinned cock throbbed as he rested the pinkish tip on the Dalmatian's belly, the whole thing covering the pup's dick and sac not only in size but in girth, and his orbs were easily big enough that only one would fit in his palm.
Keegan huffed again, this time with a different feeling as he watched his best friend's nervous expression with his own astonishment. He could feel a weird stirring in between his legs, and looked down to see the small tent pushing against his jeans. “I had a stiffy all this time?!” he nervously asked himself and glanced back inside the room. 

He tapped his foot impatiently, his brain wanting him to leave, but his body had another, more interesting idea. The yote whimpered as he watched the bovine slide the tapered cock in between Taylor's spotted thighs, hearing his best friend beg for their teacher to stop teasing him—and Keegan found himself mentally asking the same.

He gulped, a sudden warm feeling taking over him as he tentatively brushed his brown fingers along his small, constrained boner, and whined. He slipped a hand inside his underwear, feeling the sweat and moisture of his pubic region, and then squeezed the base of penis, feeling his own knot beginning to swell. In the next instant, he dropped his backpack on the side and laid the case on top of it, guiltily watching the pair get intimate—his tail wagged subtly, and he had a feeling he wasn't gonna move.

Reaching his other hand down, he unbuttoned his pants and undid the zipper, and took in the sight of his canine cocklet pushing against his red and white briefs. He pulled them down, dropping his bottomwear around his ankles as his tail wagged freely, his tan cheeks exposed to the hot air as he slowly rubbed his pinkish meat.
Keegan let out a stifled moan at the same time his friend did, trying to keep the rhythm the pair was going as he bit on his shirt to hold it up. Feeling a flow of pre drop in between his feet, he smeared some of the slippery fluid along his modest penis and knot as it popped free. 

Meanwhile, Mr. B. began to move the situation forward. The bovine lined his pre-slicked cock with the twitching hole, and pressed his heavily leaking tip to the walls. He looked down at Taylor, who whimpered and nodded eagerly—and he didn't waste a second.
Pushing forward, the Bull stretched the fleshy ring as he slowly made his way inside, groaning lightly as his student winced at the initial pain, but soon crossed his eyes as the hard rod made its way inside inch by inch. Taylor moaned and then hissed when he felt the Bull's heavy balls rest against his rump, gasping  when Mr. B. pulled back almost half way, only to push it in again.

The teacher began thrusting inside the canine with slow and long movement, allowing him to get used to his massive size, and gradually began building up speed, making the Dalmatian yip and moan with each push and pull of his loins. His balls smacked against Taylor, adding a new sound to the messy orchestra of moaning, panting, and gasping—and Keegan also contributed to it. 

The Coyote had a hand quickly jerking his pink cock off while his other one would switch between holding the wall in front and pressing against his muzzle to muffle his moans. His hips buckled forward, feeling the build up more and more sharp as the Bull fucked his best friend senseless, loving each sound and action taking place; his eyes darted from Taylor's pleasured face, to his throbbing red rocket rubbing against his full belly, to his stretched hole being rammed in by the big cock, to Mr. Bronson's hefty balls slapping the spotted ass, and then to the Bull's toned cheeks. All of it added to the Coyote's horniness, and he could feel himself coming closer, but also feeling as needy as his friend.

Taylor gasped when Bronson picked him up with ease, and began fucking him while standing, using gravity to make the pup sink down on his cock. The Dalmatian wrapped his arms around the Bull's thick neck and pressed his face down on his chest, feeling the wall of his belly stretch out as the pointy head pushed against it. 

“Ahh… Nngh—ahh, t-too much!” he cried out, feeling his canine meat throb violently, his body being made of sleeve by his teacher.

Mr. B. let out a breathy chuckle, his hands moving to the young Anthro's buttcheeks and squeezing them as he controlled the rhythm—which was far too fast for Taylor. “Oh, Russo, you ain’t quittin’ now. ‘Sides, I'm very close.”

His words seemed to snap something inside Keegan's mind, his neurons firing at one-hundred miles per hour as he watched Taylor choke on his words. The Dalmatian dug his claws in the Bull's neck, his breath caught in his throat as he yelped loudly.
Each rope of semen came spraying out his tapered red tip, splashing his own chest and neck as well as Mr. Bronson's belly with puppy cum. He tried to beg for something but could only gasp as his body was lowered further and further down, the base of his wagging tail brushing against the black-furred sac as all sense was drawn from him. 

The tightening of his student's hole drove Mr. B., over the edge, and as soon as the Dog was placed firmly against the base of his sheath, he couldn't help but tremble. The bovine let out a guttural moan that traveled through the pup's body as he erupted inside him, filling Taylor with hot seminal liquid that seemed endless—it was to expect coming from his big testicles after all.
Moaning raggedly, Taylor could feel his belly bulging out, his whole body shivering as cum seemed to push against his insides, and making him feel fuller than ever before. A few more drops of jizz flowed the sides of his red meat, and in a brief second of clarity, he wished he could go for another round.

The scene was too much for Keegan. The yote was feeling almost nauseous as he whined and moaned, nearly biting down on his hand to muffle them as his knees buckled. The first spritzes of Coyote cum came out watery and clear, but it soon changed to a single thick jet as he convulsed, feeling his own tail hole wink reflexively as he painted the wall in front of him white. He held his knot, squeezing it as he drove his climax home with a last tug that brought more jizz to run down his tan-colored orbs.
He held himself against the window, his breath fogging up the glass as he shivered in pure pleasure. His mind was blurry as his eyes sluggishly glanced up to see what the pair was up to, and panted as he tried to recover his breath.

Taylor and Bronson did the same. The Bull was covered in sweat as he laid the Dalmatian back on the table and leaned on its surface, his strong arms resting on each side of Taylor's face. As for the pup, he only breathed heavily, squirming and twitching as he rode out the last of his orgasm—his teacher's sweat dripped on his bare chest and mixed with his cum. 
He hummed in confusion as he watched his teacher rear back a little and then stretch his arm to the side, reaching for something. Hearing the familiar clink of glassware, his floppy black ears twitched, and he lolled his tongue out as he saw the beaker in Mr. B’s hand. 

There was a brief cold touch as the older Anthro placed the container under the tail hole, and slowly stepped back—the flow of cum was almost immediate. It spilled out and dripped on the floor before it was caught inside the beaker as the bovine pressed it up. 
The sticky, hot liquid spurted out as Taylor moaned and whimpered, feeling his belly deflate slowly, and then sighed in relief as almost all of it was pushed out from inside him, filling the beaker over halfway up with bovine cum.

Mr. Bronson rubbed a finger up the canine’s gaping entrance, making him whine as the sensitive hole was briefly prodded. He held the glass in front of his student. “Time to drink, Russo.” His tone was commanding, and the pup didn't think twice.

Taylor shuffled as he sat up, wincing a bit as his wet ass made contact with the table's cold surface, and took the beaker in his hand. The strong musky smell invaded his nose as he placed the edge of the makeshift glass on his lips and began drinking the warm cum. It tasted pleasantly sweet, just like all the other times; one wouldn't expect it from the Bull, but he could go out of his way from time to time.
He smacked his lips and licked the top of his muzzle with his broad tongue, giving a sheepish smile to his teacher as he held the empty piece of lab equipment up.

Keegan's face flushed hot at the sight, though he couldn't tell why. One part of him found it almost gross, but he could feel his cock wanting to twitch back to life. He rubbed his hand on his thigh to clean it off, and proceeded to get decent again as the pair began doing so too. 
Leaving the mess he made on the wall to cool off, he returned to the main building—his tail wagging from his afterglow, but his step was a little awkward as his belly still twisted in pleasure.

It wasn't long after when Taylor came outside looking dazed, and with an unmistakable limp to his step, but his own tail swished side to side. He was sweaty, his hoodie not helping in the matter, and when he covered his eyes from the sun, he jumped at the sight of his best friend standing by the stairs. He came to a halt as they stared at each other—him barely looking decent while Keegan seemed to cross his legs to hide something.

“H-hey…” the Dalmatian started, nervously looking around only to see that only the yote was still there. “W-watcha doing here, man?” His blue eyes immediately caught sight of the CD case in his friend's hand.

Keegan breathed in slowly and walked up to him. “I-I talked to Robin. He told me to give this back to you.” He could see Taylor was unsettled—it was an emotion the Dog almost never displayed, making it even easier to identify. “I… I just wanted to make sure we could play it tonight, you know?” The silence that followed his words was awkward, but Taylor took the container regardless.

He swayed it in his hand and smiled weakly. “Thanks dude,” he said, putting it away in his backpack. “You… you came back just for this?” he asked cautiously, concern in his voice.

“Uhh…” Keegan thought for a brief second. He could tell his friend of what he saw, but at what cost? The last thing he wanted was to make Taylor uncomfortable, or even make him mad. “Y-yeah,” he replied. “You got detention a-and Robin couldn't find you, so I just brought it back is all, heh,” he tried to sound cool again, being mildly more successful this time.

Taylor let out a relieved chuckle, but then cleared his throat so it wasn't too obvious. “Uhm, thanks buddy. Really,” he added and wrapped an arm around Keegan's neck, prodding him to move along, but also distributing his weight on him.

Keegan huffed as he was pulled along, but didn't protest. Instead, his ears perked up as he smiled back. “No problem dude.” He wrapped his left arm around the taller Anthro's waist.
The canine pair left the school premises, chatting, laughing, and planning strategies for the night's gaming session. What Keegan didn't know was that Taylor could see him peeking down, being unable to hide the small swell in his jeans. Meanwhile, the yote could smell the faint odor of jizz in the Dalmatian's fur.

End