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.
*****
Havoc groaned as the hot water ran through his fur, turning his muzzle up into the hot stream. The kangaroo shifted his weight, avoiding swinging his long, thickly muscled tail into the wall for, as warm as the shower was, the tiled wall was an unwelcome cool. He rolled his shoulders, black stripes running over his entire coat of dark red fur up to the unusual fluffy 'mane' of cream around his throat. True, his heritage was far from normal, but the kangaroo had the attention of so many for his athletic prowess and muscular stature.
Smirking, the kangaroo lathered up his arms, the wide space of the communal shower giving him just the right amount of room to enjoy himself without navigating the cramped confines of most modern home showers. Havoc grunted and ran his paw down his front, unashamedly groping his own balls and letting his fingers squeeze his already plumping sheath. He glanced at the entrance, open to the locker room of the sports complex, and grinned, teeth bared in an almost feral fashion.
One of them would be along soon enough to keep him company, he was sure. They always came.
Ah, there it was. He pretended to ignore the flicker of motion, only caught out of the corner of his eye as he turned up the heat just a notch more, but it was there nonetheless. Lips curling into a smirk, Havoc turned his back on the welcome voyeur, letting them see just how his glutes tensed and quivered under the release of work, every movement making his whole body ripple with hard-won muscle. Oh, yes, he was a stud indeed and he certainly had no qualms about letting his admirers see just how much of one. That was, if they were prepared to pay his very particular fee, of course.
The other fur took a deep breath, audible even over the pulse of water, and stepped into view completely. The base of his coat was a pure white that did not tally up with his personality, a soft, brown stretching down his entire front and along the underside of his arms and inner legs. A dorsal stripe had long been his most intriguing feature, along with the stripes that stretched across the backs of thighs, almost denoting him of more predatory heritage, thought the horse was a purebred equine through and through. That didn't stop others from speculating and, truth be told, Michael didn't mind what they said if it meant their curiosity was roused. It meant that he often got to satisfy his own carnal curiosity in turn.
Havoc growled.
"You're late."
The equine flinched, half-thinking about darting back around the gaping entranceway. But his hooves moved of their own accord, hauling him with a flick of his, darker, chocolate tail to stand before Havoc in nothing but his bare coat. His lips twitched in a mealy muzzle, the same shade of brown as his other markings, and Michael licked them, running a very pink, fleshy tongue over his lower lip. His eyes raked the kangaroo's form hungrily, taking quick note of how that sheath -- more standard of an anthro and not like a true kangaroo's genitalia -- plumped up at the very sight of him. The equine inhaled deeply. He had his own allure too.
"I'm sorry," he breathed. "Practice ran long and... Well, I thought you'd be gone."
The stallion shivered, eyelashes fluttering down in a surprisingly coy look.
"I'm glad you're not gone."
Havoc smirked and grabbed a handful of mane, twisting his paw cruelly to the side.
"And ran back here, sweating and grunting, just to see me, I bet? Just couldn't stay away, could you?" He mocked. "Don't worry, you won't be the first."
Michael gasped as his mane was pulled so aggressively; even with lacking nerve-endings at the roots, it yanked at the skin and hurt fiercely. Yet the other male's aggression only served to strengthen his submission, his body, conversely, going weak at the knees. That was okay though: it helped him drop to them more quickly for his top.
"Ah..." Michael shuddered. "The first...for what?"
Havoc raised an eyebrow.
"You're not the first to get addicted to my cock, slut."
The emphasis on that last word sent a shiver down Michael's spine, but then his hooves were skittering out, the heavy paw in his mane forcing him down, down, down, lips already parting for that treat that he knew was coming. The kangaroo's crimson shaft pushed out eagerly, clearly denoting his ancestry that was not entirely kangaroo. More like a canine's than anything any other anthro could have bragged, it was not uniform in shape, but tapered to a point with a thicker midsection and a bulge at the base. That bulge could have been a canine knot, to the less well educated, but Michael knew better and pressed his lips to it with a groan, adoring the swelling that he knew would feel amazing stretching out his tail hole -- and not for the first time.