The hyena sat at the edge of the bed, eyeing in the reflection of the window the way his stripes coursed down around the side of his arm. Snow blanketed the ground outside, covering the entirety of the parking lot in a thick, fluffy white sheet, and adding a cottony crest to the awning of the hotel out in front; this was by no means a fancy place, but it was the middlemost with consistently good ratings.

There was also just a certain charm to hotel rooms. The hyena blinked against the glare of the snow, blinked again, then looked up and around the room: the smooth beige walls, the odd arch set into the ceiling to separate the sleeping side of the room from the rest, the wide window unit completely occupying one of the sills… the combination entertainment center-dresser that had clearly been painted over a few times before, with both the room microwave and safe on full display beneath the TV itself. On arrival he had turned it on and clicked through the channels a bit, finally settling on something with which he was vaguely familiar, just to have a bit of background noise.

Other than that his things sat still packed in the corner by the bathroom, the single backpack resting against the wall, his slightly snow-dusted jacket dripping into a small puddle on the carpet. It’s not the worst thing that this floor has seen, he reminded himself – and then with a skip of the heart and a quick glance at his phone, and it’ll see worse by the time the night is done…

“on the way!!! uwu” he read, on the last message received. “hubby gave the OK and also his regards and also he wants you to kiss the inside of my butthole since his muzzle’s not long enough to do it himself” 

That had been about half an hour ago, with the last seen note showing just a few minutes ago. The longer he had to wait, the more nervous he became, though he knew he had no reason to be.

The hyena craned his head to look behind himself, out across the expanse of the king size bed. At least they had had this for him, and already he had brought over the provided extra towels and set them side by side up near the pillows. Then, of course, a few of his own things from home: the big stuffed cheetah that he had had since around when he was in high school; an extra blanket that smelled like home; the book he was currently reading, sixth in its series…

…the bottle of extra-thick lube that he used admittedly less than he should, the medium-medium toy cast in the likeness of a canine shaft, the medium-firm that had been cast from a canine shaft, the graded grey traffic cone designed and used solely for stretching practice. It wasn’t really a traffic cone – it had an extra little bulb at the top, which the hyena recalled had given him quite a bit of difficulty in the past – but all of his friends said it looked like one, and that was really the easiest way to remember it.

He shifted again, bit his lower lip, took in a breath, then sighed back out… and reached a paw along his thigh towards his rump to squish into soft, plump flesh, squeeze, and spread himself around the other toy still hilted inside of himself. For the entire drive over he had been caught somewhere between heaven and hell with this plug buried inside of him, not quite as formidable as the knots on the other toys, but certainly more than the bulb at the end of the cone. Some ten minutes of warm-up back home, starting with three fingers worked up to six and then to eight, then riding the end of the cone until he couldn’t keep it inside himself even by squeezing as hard as he could, and then rocking back and forth at the edge of the bathtub around the thing’s deceptively yielding girth, feeling it push out at the rim of his tailhole, lift up inside, stretch him from within – then that so-familiar gasp and sting of going too far too fast, then pulling back out, then trying again.

And then the however-many miles of driving, the road pumping beneath the tires, the frame of the car vibrating gently around the engine, the constant awareness of the plug’s presence inside of him, pressing out from within, making him squirm and shiver and grind back into his seat, and miss the changing of the streetlights a few times. The first thing the hyena had done upon arriving, other than fling his backpack to the floor, was step into the bathroom, drop his pants, then squat down… and then remember that he was in a private hotel room, so instead he stood back up, hobbled over to the bed, and reseated everything there. A slow, deep push from inside, his tail raising, his half-hard shaft twitching before him – and the plug sank out of him, for him to wipe off, quickly re-lubricate since it thankfully was not too big for him to fit within his maw, and then press back beneath his tail, this time quick and easy enough that it only took that first touch and then a clenching kiss from his tailhole.

And now it was there, and he was here, and surely it wouldn’t be too much longer before April would arrive too, and – that car on the street seemed to be slowing down, and now it was pulling into the parking lot, and the hyena straightened up and peered closer through the fogged window glass. The behavior wasn’t natural to hyenas, but after spending so much time around them in school and having dated one for a few years, he couldn’t help but wag his tail when he recognized the jackal’s sleek, soft muzzle, the sway of silken black hair across cream froth fur, the slightly disheveled but still sharp posture and gait, as they closed the door, went around to the back to pull a bag out of the trunk, then strode up towards the front of the hotel.

The hyena lifted up and leaned forward, trying to peer around the fogged glass. One of April’s tall ears – half bunny, mostly jackal – flicked and they glanced up, wide-rimmed glasses glimmering in the cool sunlight, but they kept on walking.

What do I do? the hyena thought, heart leaping into his throat again. He swallowed, held his breath, paused to see if he could hear the doors downstairs swinging open; both of their names were on the reservation, Shekh and April, so all they would need to do was speak to the clerk, who would hand them a key and send them upstairs here, and around the corner, and down the hall, then around the next corner, where Shekh had hung the Do Not Disturb from the handle, and-

The hyena’s ears perked and flicked at the click of the door, and then he was on his feet with his tail halfway wrapped around one leg, his ears slightly back, his heart thumping again – and then face to face with the jackal as they stepped into the room. Their glasses had fogged up upon entering the building, and hadn’t yet cleared; they shifted the puffy jacket around their shoulders, tried to undo the zipper, ended up dropping one of the bags held in their paw, then half-stumbled over that bag as they stepped forward.

“Oh-” and they dropped their other bag as well, which hit the floor, bounced to flip over on its back, and then dumped out its contents when it landed the second time. A second bottle of lube rolled out and nudged against Shekh’s footpaw, with another plug similarly sized to his own juddering off to the side, and picking up all sorts of stray hairs and crumbs from the carpet as it went. “Oh – cheese and crackers…”

Jackal looked at hyena, and hyena looked at jackal – or at least as much as he could through those fogged, skewed glasses. April reached up to readjust them, wet their lips, then finally took them off, blinked cool brown eyes in the relative dimness of the room, tilted their head, blinked again.

“Um.” Their big ears flicked. “You’re here already.”

“Yeah, I – sent you a text…”

“Oh! That was… yeah. Okay. Yeah. I got that. Um. Hi. Good to see you.”

“Do you want to-” Shekh halfway reached down for the toy, then paused and decided to go for the lube instead, then paused and wondered if he should at all. Then April was bending over too and reaching for the same thing, and then they each reached for the other, then chuckled awkwardly and went back. “Sorry. Sorry, um… here, you can… or, I guess I’ll…”

He knelt down right as the jackal did the same. The two looked at each other again, April’s movements making little shff-shff noises from their puffy jacket, Shekh sharply aware of the silicone plug wedged four inches into his bowels. In the days leading up to this he had enjoyed time and time again what the two would do once they finally got together, after so long spent fantasizing and teasing and imagining, and now that they were actually here he found that he could barely look at the toy in between them, much less let himself think about all of the stretching he had done beforehand and how he had told April in no uncertain terms before beginning the drive, “I’m looking forward to seeing how far I can fit my arm up your tail ;3” and now-

Now April’s paw brushed across his, and he jumped and jerked it back, eyes fixed on the jackal’s manicured claws. His own polish had started flaking off a few days ago and he still had to redo it, but here was sleek, velvety black done in high gloss, the beds showing the slight curl that said to him they had done it either today or yesterday at the earliest, likely just for this little meeting.

“Sorry, um, do you want to-”

“Shekh.”

The hyena blinked, reflexively clenched around his plug – he had felt it starting to try to slip out of him again – then looked up at the jackal across from him. Some of that shoulder-length hair had fallen forward across their face with the fringe resting across their angular muzzle, and partially obscuring one eye. They had rested their glasses atop their head, back against their ears, then gave their head a flip to try to flick that hair out of their face – and ended up flinging their glasses halfway off.

“Um.” April reached up to fix everything that had just happened. While he was watching their face, they also managed to scoop the lube and toy back into their bag. “Do you wanna… make out?”

And his heart skipped a beat again. “Oh! Um… here?”

“Well, we can go up on the… on the bed. If you want.”

“Yeah. Yeah, that sounds… let’s…” He had to squeeze again on his way up, and reached down to help the jackal up – though they shifted where they sat, bonked the side of their head against the offered paw, and then wobbled back down to their rump, and then managed to stand up. “It’s on the firm side. I like them that way. The pillows are real soft though, and-”

When Shekh looked over again April had turned their back to him, and was in the middle of stripping off their jacket. The thick, plush material folded over itself and then dropped free, flinging little half-melted pads of snow as it went; underneath they wore a long sleeved shirt, and moved to take that off as well. Careful paws flicked down and tugged up in front, and Shekh watched as the jackal’s fur puffed up from the static underneath, then pinned down again under the constraining grip of the peach-orange bralette they wore. This tugged up a little bit; April twitched as though startled, then reached in back to pull it back down.

Then they turned again, shirt held in one paw and glasses in the other, black hair having come forward around their muzzle again, and this time successfully flipped it back across one ear. “Sorry,” they breathed, and then gently cleared their throat. “Was getting… really hot. I see you’ve… already started getting ready?”

“Well, it was more that I just thought…” Shekh scooted over and sank down onto the mattress, deliberately looking away since for some reason it felt even more awkward when April took their place beside him. Their knees touched, and this time the hyena managed to keep himself from jumping; instead he leaned into the contact, and pushed his forward. “Since we’ve talked about it so much online that you’d maybe wanna see them in person.”

“Yeah. I remember.” The jackal craned their body around, sleek lapine shape easily making the move. One paw came out searching for leverage, found it on Shekh’s leg, held there; they reached out, rolled one of the toys closer, gripped behind the knot. “This is – oh, it is firm – the lifecast one, right?”

“Yeah. My partner got that one for me.”

“Cast from a feral?”

“I dunno.” He shrugged. “The website never says. I think they want you to wonder.”

“Well, it works.” April tweaked the tapered end of the tip with their thumb, then lifted it closer. Throughout the surface were visible pores and contours and veins – Shekh thought that some had been added for texture – complete with the little divot in the blunted section of the head… and then to his surprise and slight embarrassment, the jackal brought the toy up and ran their nose slowly along the shaft, inhaling as they went. “…Hm. It doesn’t smell like you.”

“Is it – should it?”

“Not if you clean it right! But you’re a hyena.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Well…” April turned back to him, met his eyes, then just as quickly glanced away. That paw continued up Shekh’s leg toward his thigh, then was joined by the other at his hip. The jackal leaned in closer, and he leaned back until he had to press his own paws into the mattress for support. “You know. You can call me a biscuit, and-”

“Oh. Oh. You-” The mattress bounced as a single well-placed paw nudged Shekh down to his back. He swallowed, shifted his elbows beneath him for support, lifted up just a little bit, and spread his legs with April in between them. The jackal smirked, tossed their hair again, then pressed their paw into the fluff of the hyena’s belly. “No. That’s spotted hyenas.”

“Really? Darn. You wanna know what jackals do?”

“Is it something horrible and gross?”

April shifted down again, sliding that paw up beneath Shekh’s shirt. The hyena pulled in a slow gasp, shivered, reflexively lifted up again, and squirmed around the other’s body.

“If you want it to be.”

“Well, you know me.”

“Okay. Close your eyes…”

So he did. Heart thumping, nervousness mixed with anticipation, the hyena had some idea of what to expect, but still enjoyed the surprise. Above him was the distinct shifting and rustling of clothing being removed, soon followed by one leg being lifted, and then the other – then the quiet fwumpf of that removed clothing being tossed to the side. There was a little grunt, a huff, another grunt, and then April settled themselves along Shekh’s waist again.

“Can I open my eyes now?”

“No.” Their voice sounded much closer, and he felt the gentle tickle of warm breath across his whiskers. “But you can open your mouth.”

And so he did that, too. Do I make a noise? he thought; should I say ‘aaah’? Stick my tongue out? Should I breathe through my nose? Do I-

And then he jumped again when a soft paw brushed across the side of his muzzle, then again when the jackal’s smaller nose bumped to his, and then… April’s open mouth scooped against his own, and the two shared a breath for a moment, and then they pursed around Shekh’s upper lip, suckled softly, and drew back.

The hyena squirmed, mouth still open. “Ca’ I-”

“No. Not yet.” One paw gripped his chin, tilting his head up and back. “If you would just… stay right there, so I can…”

Then nothing for a moment. He was so, so tempted to peek just a little bit, to keep his eyes almost shut but just barely open enough that he could see – but then he jumped again, and immediately knew the reason why. A thick glob of wet, sticky warmth smacked against the back of his tongue from above, and now welled out against the roof of his mouth where he lay back; he felt the close froth, the slight slimy slickness, the heat of it as he rolled it around and mixed it with his own. He swallowed, tasted the cool touch of mint, squirmed again around sudden arousal; are they chewing gum? 

“Ah-”

“Nuh-uh.” Much closer again. The paw continued up his cheek, tilted him one way, then the other. “Not done yet. Pucker up.”

Again he obeyed, and again he received what he expected. It was slow at first, lip to lip, a soft puff of breath from April’s nose alongside his, then holding there as though out of nervousness. Shekh couldn’t resist, though, and lifted himself up to seal the kiss, pursing his lips forward, pressing against the soft, warm squish of the other’s mouth; there was the surprise, the slight jerk back, the hesitation… leading to indulgent acceptance as April leaned in as well. The paw drifted across his muzzle back towards his cheek, then along to his shoulder, and then from there back up to his chin.

He swallowed amid the kiss, again tasting the jackal’s saliva from where they had dropped that glob into the back of his throat, then broke it only to dive right back in. Then again, and again, and again, now turning his head slightly to the side as April reciprocated. Breaths mixed and muddled; each kiss became a little bit deeper, a little bit firmer, a little bit hungrier, until Shekh, too, had reached out with his paws. One slid around the jackal’s waist and pushed through short, soft fur there, and the other wrapped its way around their back and came up towards the hem of their bralette.

Only, the hyena realized, and had to exert all his willpower to keep from opening his eyes, there’s nothing there this time… and neither was there as he pushed down along April’s rump, following the curve of plush fur over soft flesh, around the base of the bunny’s cotton-puff tail, down a little bit further.

“Mm-” April drew back from the kiss, Shekh’s upper lip clamped lightly between their teeth, and swallowed as they let it go. “You found your surprise a little bit early. If you could, just…” They shifted again, reached back, found the hyena’s paw, and then guided it further, two fingers were brought underneath the base of that tail, and he felt the warm, wrinkled lines of skin pulling in towards the center pucker, where the rim of the jackal’s tailhole tensed, clenched, then pushed gently out. “I – was gonna make you smooch that, too…”

“Can I still?” Shekh licked his lips, wet with drool that was not his own. “Also, can I open my eyes now?”

“Huh? Oh. Yeah, sorry. Wait – no – gimme a – okay. Now you can.”

Shekh looked up and across April’s now nude body. They sat back across the hyena’s upper legs, paws held modestly in front of them; muzzle turned just enough to show the length of their snout, head angled a little bit so that their hair flowed down across one eye again… with the position of their arms squeezing in along their upper chest, pushing the two handfuls of diminutive breasts forward, nipples poking warm tan amid more of that cream fur. Then the flat of their chest, the smooth curve of their belly coming out a bit and then pitching back in, where the ruff of pubic fur darkened at the base of their shaft half-hidden behind their paws, and the pert, plump sack hanging down below.

Shekh sat up a little bit so that he could get a better look, and a better feel. He teased his fingers back and forth across April’s tailhole, tugging at the slightly tacky skin, pressing in at the center each time they twitched and tightened. Loose, he thought, with another twitch from himself; I bet I could push two… maybe three fingers in, without any lube…

“Even better in person,” the hyena rumbled, looking up at April atop him. The jackal blushed and turned away, rump rocking back against those exploring fingers.

“You think so?”

“Uh huh. Now what was it you wanted me to kiss?”

“Oh – um-”

April moved to get up, the mattress squishing underneath both of them. Shekh pulled himself more fully up onto the bed and lay back, watching as the jackal slid back, briefly brushed down their fur, and then clambered back up, hard shaft swinging under their belly and balls holding firm against their body. One paw gripped Shekh’s shoulder for balance and their eyes met again, only for April to blink, blush, and turn away – and then turn the rest of their body as well.

And then that little bunny tail twitched in lifting up, and the soft-furred rump lowered down before his muzzle, and the soft pink pucker he had felt spread in front of him, wrinkles pulling, center point twitching in…

“Is this okay?”

“Better than okay…”

Shekh leaned in, wrapped an arm around April’s thigh, tilted his head, swallowed – and then dove right in, immediately sealing his lips around the tender rim. First he suckled softly, much like when April had gone in for the kiss, and then dragged the flat of his tongue forward; then he shifted back and forth, sucking, slurping, sucking again, teasing deeper, quite easily working his way past the ring of muscle there. On top of him April gasped, sighed, shivered, and pushed back, wedging their rear against the hyena’s muzzle; he brought both of his paws in to spread them from here, fingers teasing in alongside their lips, finding the rim, pushing across it… then with one coming in from each side, and then a second pressing into slick, succulent inner meat.

He drew back, swallowed, and appraised his progress so far. April had one paw on the bed and the other reaching towards the base of their tail, partially opened tailhole twitching, shivering around the hyena’s fingers. Shekh licked his lips, pressed in to the knuckle on one paw, felt the squish and squelch of those inner walls tightening around him, then drew back again and this time hooked around April’s rim from inside. He pulled, then did the same with his other paw, and felt his jaw drop at seeing the blossom of rich red meat glistening just inside.

“You’re so… malleable.”

“Gosh, you’re gonna make me blush. You know – just what to say.” April looked over their shoulder at him. “I wore my… size plug overnight.”

“Wow. I’ve tried that before, but it’s too much for me. Just makes me wanna go harder, y’know?”

“How do you think I feel? How many – is that just one finger?”

“It’s four.”

“Really?”

“Well-” Then another sweet, slick squish. “I lied. It’s six now.”

“Ooh. Yeah. I can… feel that… speaking of which, I didn’t see – your size plug…”

“Well…” He just couldn’t resist. Fingers still hooked deep, holding the jackal’s tailhole open, Shekh leaned in, pursed his lips directly against that revealed interior flesh, and suckled as though trying to draw a smoothie through a straw. Then he flicked his tongue out, sleeved it within sleek, damp heat, sucked again, dragged it back out. “…I wonder why that is.” 

“Oh. Did you – ah – leave it at home?”

“What? No.” Shekh lifted his hind end up. “Get my pants off and maybe you’ll find it.”

Already the giddiness of exploration and new experiences had begun to flood through him. The hyena gladly lifted up as April worked at his pants fly, deft paws sliding beneath the waistband of his pants, pushing along the sleek fur of his lower body; they took his pants and underwear at the same time, lifting forward in front to work the hem around his full arousal, cupping with one paw to squeeze and tug his sack – he had decided to go without the weight on them today, as that just made them chafe against the inside of his pants – and then wiggled to pull them free. For a moment the jackal’s spread, stretched rump pulled away from his muzzle, and then settled back again – and his nose and the upper half of his snout pressed inside, right into that swelling bulge of meat.

April’s little tail waggled. “Oh – oh, I… I see…” They swallowed, shivered, and pushed back again. “Can I take it out?”

Shekh drew back. Thick, slightly discolored stickiness clung to his lips; he lapped it off, felt it pull and stretch, tasted the rich, cloying musk, the faint sour bitterness. “Do you want me to push it out?”

“Yes. Yes yes yes. Do that.”

The hyena braced his footpaws on the mattress, lifted up again – God, he thought as he looked up into April’s tailhole, now remaining gaped open of its own ability, what a great fucking view – and reached down with one paw to scoop his sack up and out of the way. April’s draped down across his chin, small and tight; he took in a breath, smelled the slick, cloying scent of the inside of their body put on full display here above his snout, then leaned forward, cupped his tongue around, sucked first one and then both balls into his mouth, and then started to push. Slightly slimy pressure grew from inside, mounted at the interior of his rim, swelled there… and then popped free, and he felt himself hanging open just like the jackal did over him.

“Golly…” April purred. Shekh jumped again at the sensation of soft fingers teasing around his opened tailhole. “You’re so… lippy.”

“Should I – push more?”

“Yes! You could, like…”

Above him the jackal’s rim puckered inward, lines of wrinkled skin sucking in, squeezing out the globs of saliva and mucus, then relaxed again. And then they began to push all over again, this time from inside: one paw still spread their rump from beneath the tail. They gave a little noise of exertion; their tail wiggled; their knees came in, squeezing around Shekh’s midsection; and then…

Then a quick, wet slop and squelch, and April’s tailhole began to blossom out from inside. The puckered rim folded out into the full lips that they had mentioned, pink skin tinting a deeper color with the extra effort, and drew back – as the rich, red walls of flesh inside squeezed and squished together upon pressing outwards, swelling like a slowly inflating balloon, pushing up against one another, roiling and wrapping and sliding.

It was like watching a pot of molten candy roll back and forth over itself in boiling, or seeing the surface of… Shekh wasn’t quite sure, exactly, but neither could he bring himself to focus anywhere else. Seen so many times in pictures and videos online, paired with weeks – months – of pushing for it himself, wearing his plug for hours on end, trying time and time again to work himself open, enlisting his partner’s and some friends’ help with stretching out, and pushing, pushing, pushing… and here, right in front of him, so close that he could feel the wet heat hovering off, April had squeezed out the lower half-inch, full inch, inch and a half of their bowels, just like that.

On top of him the jackal exhaled, their breath low and raspy, thick with exertion. For a moment the blossom of silken red squished inwards, then settled out again. “How is – is that-?”

“Oh, man…” Completely forgetting his own intent, Shekh leaned in, pursed his lips, and met the everted inner walls in a slow, gentle kiss. Squishy heat squelched against him, immediately coating his fur in that same clinging slickness, and flooding his nose and mouth with warm dampness. When he parted his lips to slip his tongue out, the folds of flesh spread just as easily: he pushed out, and swirled around, and dragged along the interior-made-exterior, and felt it squish and reshape and mold underneath the touch.

It was everything he had expected, and wanted, and still more. April gasped and sighed, once again exerting themselves for that extra push, and Shekh felt it bloom further against and around him. Slimy walls spread around his muzzle, sleeving his snout in thick, sticky warmth. Bittersweet scent, slightly sour, filled his nostrils and swelled within his lungs; he drew in his breath from inside April’s revealed bowels, then sighed out again, felt the space around him expand and then patter back into place.

“And you just-” When he moved back, the walls of meat clung to muzzle and then pulled free with the sound of a pot of oatmeal being stirred. “Push? Really hard?”

It took April a moment to gather themselves. The jackal had lowered the front of their body down, puffing hot, heavy breaths out across the base of Shekh’s shaft, one paw slowly stroking him, the other now teasing in at his stretched tailhole. “Uh… uh-huh. Mostly.”

“And you want me, to-?”

“Hang on.” They paused, swallowed, took in a breath, craned their head back… then came down again, tapping at the hyena’s thighs for him to spread them. He did so, then felt two pairs of fingers slid up along his rim, tease gently inside, stretch, and pull… then reflexively twitched as another glob of spot smacked against his revealed innards, clenched, relaxed again. And then April leaned down and licked inside of him, tongue easily curling into the revealed depths, hooking around his rim, pulling free. “That feel good?”

“God, yeah, it-”

The mattress shifted suddenly as the jackal lifted up, swung one leg from around Shekh’s head, and then crawled shakily forward across him, the presented red flesh of their bowels wobbling and jiggling like a second short tail. Once they had reached his loins April turned around and carefully lowered themselves down, one leg hooking beneath one of Shekh’s, the other coming on top of it, and then they scooted themselves forward, took in a breath, scooted again… and this time the hyena felt that same wet, sticky kiss against his tailhole.

April clenched and sucked everything back in, then pushed from inside to squeeze it right back out. Shekh couldn’t help but let his head roll back on his shoulders at the sensation of slimy wet meat unfolding from inside of him, pressing against the center of his own rim and pushing out from there. Then over and over again, Shekh wrapping his paws beneath his thighs to lift up and angle himself into the motion, April’s lower bowels alternately sucking and pulling at him, smearing the fur of his rump with that sticky slime, their half-hard shaft twitching atop their belly and letting loose little spurts of what very well might have been piss.

“And now… you can…” April’s abdomen tightened with each push, muscles squeezed together, pulling taut, pressing deeper. “Do the same… if you want…”

The hyena bunched some of the sheets up in his paws at his sides. He swallowed again, gritted his teeth, relaxed – felt April’s innards squish and suck at his tailhole again – then began to bear down… and pushed, from deep inside. First he felt the lips of his rim part open, smacking wetly apart; then there was that sensation from deep inside, the odd mix of pressure mixing with a sense of inflation, both filling and emptying out. Then that pressure suddenly slipped free and popped outside of him, slick slimy heat swelling out from just inside, the blossoming inner walls coming free, folding out from inside, blooming first within and then around his parted tailhole.

His tensely held breath puffed out in one great rush. His belly flattened out, drew in, then swelled out with another inhalation as he pushed all over again, and similarly felt that warm pressure simmering from inside – and then trickling into a pool within his bellyfur, his bladder so strained from the tightening of abdominal muscles.

Shekh licked his lips and glanced between his raised, spread legs at April, one of theirs still looped around his. Their hair had fallen in front of their eyes again but their mouth hung open in steady, languorous panting; they tossed their head, bit their lip, and scooted forward again, and Shekh felt as well as saw the fringe of squishy, malleable red reshape between them, flattening out between their rumps and then flopping back down into place.

This is… I’m… He swallowed yet again, pressed a paw into the mattress, pushed forward… tilted himself a little bit to hook a leg around April’s waist, pulled forward. From here he could then seize the jackal’s thighs and tug them in against him, until he thought he could feel that inch and a half of everted flesh squeeze up inside of him like a half-inflated water balloon, soft and warm and squishy and slick, only to then pull back out and suck at him as it did so. Shoulda… set up a camera or something, I… can’t believe…

Back and forth he rocked his body against theirs, legs spread so that rim brushed against rim, the stretched wrinkles passing across one another,  the exerted lips pressing together in a firm, wet kiss, the sloppy, slack insides mushing, squishing, mashing between them. Once more Shekh gritted his teeth and pushed; once more his hot mark welled out and dribbled across his belly, now flowing down to stain the sheets and soak into the mattress underneath him; once more he paused, tightened in, squeezed around April’s guts so that the folded lips squinched together inside of his, then slipped out against the tension.

Then he pushed again, held there until his heart started to pound in the back of his neck and the side of his head, and clenched everything back in. Then again, and again, each time pushing a little bit harder, a little bit longer; his head slogged back on his shoulders, his chest heaved with breaths synchronized with the movements, his hard shaft bounced against his belly, squirting out quick, sharp little jets of fresh piss.

April had continued to do the same as well, the jackal’s body partially angled away, their back arched, their smooth breasts lifting out as they panted. They reached up, pressed a paw against the side of their long muzzle, dragged it down to rest across their chest; then reached down, pushed their cock down so that their own piss trickled down between them – such sharp, delicious heat dribbling across Shekh’s revealed insides, splashing between, coating his fur – and shuddered with the delight, the exhaustion of the repeated movement, the growing, simmering pleasure of the sensation.

It was like nothing the hyena had felt before. He had managed to get maybe half an inch, maybe one finger’s width outside of himself before, after long sessions spent working in front of the full-length mirror in the bathroom, but this… feeling April’s pushing against him, around him, inside of him, made him want to go even further. He pushed as hard as he could, felt that throbbing pressure, paused to catch his breath, then pushed again.

In a way this reminded him of those long evenings spent on the floor in the bathroom, eight fingers shoved deep and hooked around, the hyena straining so hard that he thought he might faint. Eager, giddy photos and videos taken from his lube, spit, and slime-slickened phone of the inside of his body made outside. This was all of that and more, with April’s squished against his own so that when he reached a paw down to poke at himself he felt theirs as well, just as hot, just as wet, perhaps a little bit looser.

And all of this movement, the muscles tightening, the nerves firing, the panting and gasping and groaning, centered in within him so that his toes curled, his lips pulled back, his entire lower body shook… with each movement the hyena felt himself pushing his limits a little bit more. The arousal just continued to feed right back into itself, exertion mounting along with his enjoyment: by now his entire belly was soaked with the slightly sticky warmth of forcibly emptied piss, and he was still hard, and each time he squeezed a little squirt of something mostly clear but still slightly foggy emptied out into the pool along his belly, and there was that distinct heat growing within his abdomen, nestled back behind the root of his shaft.

“H… hey…” he breathed. Ahead of him, April’s head rolled forward, and the jackal blinked at him through unfocused eyes. “I think… I’m gonna…”

“I already – did…” they replied, and motioned down towards their belly with their angular muzzle. Shekh looked, and saw the telltale streaks and rivers of watery warmth cutting through cream-colored fur.

“Oh! I didn’t… even notice, I’m… sorry, I’m – hah-”

And then there it was, the seismic shock beginning deep within him as muscles trembled past their limit, as nerves shivered in along themselves. The hyena gasped, his legs shaking, his tail pushing down against the mattress underneath, his body moving and vibrating of its own accord – and wrenched himself up across April’s slick insides until his pulled right back across theirs, walls of meat squelching sweetly. Shekh moaned out, clenched down as hard as he could, felt the rim of his tailhole pinch down around the everted sleeve of the first inch of his bowels, then felt that inch slurp back up inside of him – and he shook, and bucked, and jerked, and clenched again and again, trying his best to force everything back out in the small split-second in between each reflexive tightening.

He felt his claws pierce through the bedsheets; he lifted up off the mattress once, twice, a third time, each time smacking back down into the sticky-wet puddle of his own effusions underneath him; he squirmed, and writhed, and shivered, and shook as the intense peak of his pleasure pounded through him – and out across his chest.

Can’t tell, he thought distantly, if that’s… cum… or piss… or pre… or what…

Heart pounding, breath rushing, the hyena finally settled back, his strained muscles giving out one last time. Whether any of him still hung outside of his body, he couldn’t tell from here; he wet his lips, swallowed, tried to sit up, then just fell back again, this time deliberately wriggling within the pool of his own mark.

“Sorry I… ah… didn’t notice when you… y’know,” he said, to the ceiling of the hotel room. It spun slowly.

“That’s alright,” April rumbled after a while. They sounded just as exhausted as he felt, but still rubbed their hind end against Shekh’s. The hyena returned the touch, kissing tailhole to tailhole, pushing just enough that he felt the lips of his rim part open, reach out, and then squish back again. “I got a little, um… self-conscious. So I tried to keep it down. And, uh, Shekh…”

“Yeah?”

“Was it… um…”

He felt the flutter of the little cotton-ball bunny tail twitch against him.

“Was it… okay… that I spat in your mouth like that?”

Shekh’s eyes flashed open. I almost forgot about that. And yet, remembering it now, so soon after what he thought perhaps might have been an orgasm – it can be so hard to tell – he felt another surge of fresh arousal push through him.

“You just p-” He stumbled over the word. “-prolapsed into my ass, and that’s what you’re worried about?”

“Well, it’s just – I don’t-”

It took considerable effort and willpower, but Shekh managed to hoist himself upright. Thick  wetness dribbled down his belly and streamed around the base of his shaft and sack; he looked down across himself, grimaced, and then moved forward, climbing across April’s reclining body, letting the mark drip down and plop into their fur. They looked up at him, chest still heaving, tailhole still opened. He so, so wanted to hoist their legs over his shoulders and make out with that blossom of succulent red meat…

But I could settle for this, instead. Arms shaking where he held himself above them, the hyena deliberately wet his lips again, leaned in, brushed his lips across April’s, and waited for them to lift up and return the kiss. He caressed their jaw, feeling the smooth, sleek lines of the jackal’s muzzle, the short but thick fur, the little twitches and tugs of muscle…

…and then he gripped tighter, wedged his finger and thumb into the hinge of their jaws, coaxed their mouth open, worked up a thick, sticky glob of his own, spat it in. April jumped, moaned around the excess wetness, and then moaned again into the hyena’s mouth as he dove to follow, tongue slipping down to find his own mark there and smear it around.

“There,” he said upon drawing back. Now he was fully hard all over again, and as he swung his hips side to side, he could tell that April was, too. “Now we’re even.”

The jackal huffed, swallowed, swallowed again, rolled their tongue around their mouth, swallowed again. “Well, now I just wanna go again…”

Shekh chuckled. “I would hope so. We have the room for the whole weekend, and – we each brought so much stuff. Where did my plug ever get off to…?”

“Do you wanna set up a camera and, um, record some of it?”

His ears perked. “My partner back home did say he would love to see.”

“So did mine.”

“Well, then that answers that, doesn’t it?”

“Okay. I’ll-” April moved as if to swing themselves up, one paw gripping Shekh’s arm, and then instead flumped back down to the mattress. The hyena felt his balance give out and flopped down on top of them, myriad wetness smacking between them, soaked fur matting together, lingering arousals bumping, grinding, rubbing. “-woof. Okay. Maybe… maybe a break first.”

“It stopped snowing. Wait.” Shekh lifted up a little bit. April’s arms wormed their way underneath his, to wrap around the middle of his back. “No. It’s snowing harder. My eyes were just glazed over, unfocused, and slightly crossed from how hard you made me cum. I think.” Then he reached down and slopped a paw across his belly. “I’m not quite sure what all this is.”

The jackal’s arms tightened around him and brought him back down with a soft wuff. “We’ll have time to figure it out,” they purred. “Should we order room service? We really should stay hydrated.”

“We should order a replacement set of sheets first, I think…”