This is a short work of erotic fiction containing furry, or anthropomorphic, characters, which are animals that either demonstrate human intelligence or walk on two legs, for the purposes of these tales. It is a thriving and growing fandom in which creators are prevalent in art and writing especially.
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Sex in the Wet Spot
Ethan groaned as he staggered back to the dorm -- his dorm, as it was the closest. They didn't share a room and, well, at least he knew that his roommate was out. It would have been embarrassing enough to stagger home with a stinking, wet patch in the front of his jeans but even more so considering that he had a randy stallion right there along with him. There was little question as to what Gargath was after but drunken minds tended to do that to a fur, rising needs even as one expelled what they thought they didn't need.
They staggered in and Gargath dragged off the black stallion's jeans with some difficulty, the material clinging to his strong legs and the bulge of his now aching crotch, although he ached there for an entirely different reason than needing to go to the bathroom. No, holding it in had failed completely and utterly and was right there in evidence of his soaked boxer-briefs, a nice grey pair with a red hem that had drawn the eye before and made him feel, well...pretty good about himself. The tightness of them and his own liking for laughter -- damn the giggles! -- was what had lost him the contest down in the bar with Gargath, however, or that was just what he was going to keep on telling himself. He did have a bit of stallion pride to maintain, after all.
But Gargath seemed more dextrous in his urgency, snorting and huffing as he left Ethan naked on his roommate's bed, which was probably just as well for what he had in mind. The black stallion lay there, huffing and puffing and entirely stripped naked for the pleasure of the victor, eyes rolling back up into his skull as he moaned for something that even he didn't yet know, Gargath inhaling deeply and then immediately regretting the motion.
"Unnff..."
It was not orgasm that pressed so urgently on his mind, however, but a far baser need that a stallion with too many beers in his belly had to take action on at all costs. His jeans had barely hit the floor (thankfully, his hooves were bare) when his cock pushed out into his paw, thick fingers closing around it solely so that he could direct the stream as he pleased.
If he'd been more with his senses, perhaps he would have suggested the bathroom but a drunk mind could not (would not?) be held responsible for the most idiotic of mistakes and he most certainly would not be as he hunched over a little and let out a deep nicker as he expelled the urine straining furiously against the walls of his bladder. Just how he'd managed to hold it in during the shuffling, anxious walk over to the dorm, he'd never know -- one of those clopping sorts of walks that seemed all too loud and seemed to go on forever.