Memories Of Bill

The water poured slowly down his back, collecting in wide streams as it curled around his thighs, slicking down his warm orange fur. Once he was soaked from head to toe, every hair from his snout to his balls flattened against his skin, Fox snatched up the bottle from the shelf, his favorite lotion. Ostensibly it was a body wash, but Fox so loved the feel and the smell he put it to far more interesting uses. He slathered some on his hand, then immediately clapped it to his crotch, smearing it vigorously into the fur of his balls and sheath. Still, he felt some need to clean himself, and slathered more in other places, on the flat of his stomach and the curves of his legs.

With Krystal gone the last few days, and therefore no one in his bed but his beloved hands, he was much more horny now than even he would like. So it was only moments before his cock began to harden and begin peeking out, warm and just slightly sticky, from the shelter of his sheath. He tried to fight it for awhile, but soon gave in, wanting it terribly and needing it more.

By now his cock was fully extended, 16 centimeters of Arwing-grade titanium, a glimmer of sensuous pink in the sea of soft orange. Fox felt the urge pulse through him like so many laser bolts, then took it gently in his hands, slowly at first, massaging his fingers down his shaft, then gripping tightly, pumping his cock with the authority of a piston. With his other hand he began to explore and re-explore, fingering the space under his retracted sheath, pressing hard into the depths of his balls, as if seeking the end of his sexual self, deep within him, then sliding across the fur of his crotch to stroke his thigh.

Now moaning loudly–and thankful for the pricy soundproofing–he found his legs no longer willing to hold him by themselves. He leaned against the wall, holding himself up with his left hand while he stroked with his right, and was suddenly reminded of a beautiful but distant memory.

He'd leaned just like this, his hand just like this, in that locker room, what, nine years ago? When he and Bill were barely a kit and a pup, when the Academy was new and frightening, when Cornerian snub fighters were state-of-the-art. When suddenly two friends realized that there was something they both needed, something they couldn't get another way, something that staying a few minutes later in the locker room than the rest of the cadets could provide.

They hardly said anything through the whole thing. Fox was toweling off after a shower, glistening brightly in the fluorescent lights, and Bill was fumbling with his underwear, trying to unstick them from his tail so he could pull them on. Fox gave Bill a different kind of smile than usual, and made a point of placing the towel where it didn't cover everything. Bill looked stunned for a second, then smiled the same way, wider, and dropped the offending underwear to the floor.

Fox said something like, "You want to?" and Bill nodded vigorously. The next thing they knew, Bill was running for the nearest wall, and Fox was running after him, both laughing with joy. Bill bent over just so, wagging his round ass and slender tail so sweetly, displaying his tight hole above and his hanging balls below, presenting them for his wingmate's approval.

Fox leapt onto him, playfully aggressive, stroking his crotch against the fur of Bill's thigh, letting his friend-wingmate-lover-toy feel every phase of the transition from flaccid sheath to glorious erection.

And then with a moan and an affectionate yelp they were joined, Fox's thick cock forced deep into Bill's welcoming hole. In those few sweet moments they pumped against each other, sandwiching white wall, brown dog, and red fox into one perfect instrument of moaning sexuality.

Both were far too excited to sustain it, and it was probably only a minute or two before sticky cum was spraying all over the wall and their joined thighs. Unwilling to stop, they pressed a few more feeble times, then realized it was done. Fox slid his cock out of Bill's ass and let it sheath itself, at once triumphant for the ecstasy and defeated for its end. Each let out a long sigh, then a warm laugh, and the two embraced with just a slightly deeper affection than their hugs had shared before.

Then the door opened, and the two pulled instinctively from each others' arms, fearful of what would come next. In burst their chief instructor, Staff Sergeant Pepper, with a gaze of more annoyance than anger. "What are you too boys still doing in here? We've got drills in ten minutes!"

"Sorry, Sarge," Fox said softly, feeling so wonderfully adult before and now merely a child. He wanted to make some excuse, but had none.

But Pepper only laughed. "Well, don't just stand there, suit up!"

Fox's real orgasm had neatly coincided with the memory, and now he panted softly, hand still against the wall. Back then, he'd thought that he and Bill had made such narrow escapes so many times, from that locker room to the late nights 'studying g-diffuser dynamics,' that when that terrible day came that Pepper realized what was going on between them he would separate them, reassign them, and they'd never see each other again, yet neither could bear to break off their liaisons lest these few moments they had together mean nothing.

Realizing it now with hindsight, he could only laugh to think that good old Pepper was always a little smarter than he looked.