Travis shook off his umbrella, closing it as he climbed the stairs onto the bus. He would likely have to stand, but that would be better than being stuck on the flooded sidewalks outside. He ambled down the aisle, his long snoot swaying left and right as he checked for a spare seat. Nobody else was standing up, so hopefully... ah, yes. There was one seat left, all the way in the back, right next to a chubby, dozing ram. Travis took the seat gratefully, the broad shouldered anteater looming over the slouching red-haired ram. The ram had a set of headphones on, his head resting against the window, and his knees touching either side of the seat in front of him, spread wide. 

Travis had to twist slightly to sit in his seat, his own knees pushed out into the aisleway. He knew he should just clear his throat, to encourage the ram to wake up and correct his position, but Travis was far too shy for something as confrontational as that. He had his seat, and he was happy about it. Besides, he was sure that the ram had his reasons for sitting in such an uncomfortable, awkward position. As he glanced between the ram's thighs, he realized why. 

The ram was wearing an old, stained Hanes t-shirt, stretched taut around his big soft belly, and a pair of just-as-old, just-as-stained cargo shorts. The pockets sagged with various bits and baubles, but none of them sagged quite so much as the large, stuffed pocket between the ram's thighs. 

With his legs spread, the ram's shorts were pulled up and taut, and his large ungulate testicles were pressed firmly into the beige fabric, the zipper ending right in the middle of them. To the left and above, the ram's short sheath was also mashed up against the fabric; the shorts were being stretched down by the weight of his oversized balls, and his cock was being pushed up against the fabric by those same cumbersome weights.

A long, long thin pink tongue snaked out from Travis' lips whipping through the air and catching a taste of ripe ram rut. Oh yes, this poor lad was positively suffering. The anteater withdrew his tongue, and glanced furtively around the bus. The other passengers were all seated ahead of him, save for a fox and a tiger directly across the aisle from him, both of whom were tapping away on their laptops. Good. Keep working, friends, Travis thought, before turning back to the dozing ram. He had to make sure he didn't wake the ram up, after all. He completely respected the poor, blue balling ram's need for a nice, cozy nap.

Maybe he shouldn't do this. After all, he had a pantry full of food at home, and plenty of money to order more. Heck, it was a full moon, and he had werewolf friends who would be happy to come over and let him have his twisted little fun with him. All of those were great reasons not to need to do this. But. Travis had had a rough day, and he was feeling feisty, and this was the perfect opportunity to treat himself. He could have just a little bit of fun and nobody would ever even know. A victimless crime, really.

It was tough to twist his body into the right position without arousing suspicion. His knees were facing away from the ram, but he had to turn towards the ram to block at least some of the ram's body with his own. The ram's shorts were bunched up, and there was a fabric belt threaded through the loops around the top of the shorts and knotted tightly at the front. Travis was going to have to go up the leg, instead.

The anteater's long, narrow, flexible snout snaked carefully and smoothly up the inside of the ram's thigh of his left leg. With him slouching as he was, the shorts were tightly bundled up underneath him, pulling tight against his balls, but that left the top of his shorts loose and kind of saggy. He deftly twisted his snout up along it, gently resting it along the furry flesh of his leg, until he felt the tip of his snout bump up against soft, warm flesh. The ram's cock.

He could see the bulge of his snout inside the shorts, could see how he was 'kissing' the ram's dick with the soft lips of his muzzle. He pursed his lips, gently nibbling with them to feel over the surprisingly wide, soft flesh of the ram's cock tip. Mostly he was searching for - there it was. A small hole in the ram's dick tip, the flesh slightly softer than the rest of the exposed glans. That was his urethra, and Travis sounded his tongue right down into it.

This was the easy part. If he can slip his tongue past the first eighth of an inch of a male's cock without them noticing, the rest of it would be easy. He had honed this technique surreptitiously in the past, claiming snacks while sitting at a bar, lounging in a sauna, and, once, while waiting at a crowded sidewalk intersection next to a tall bull in a kilt. That had been stressful, but so very satisfying. 

This was not stressful at all. The bus had hid a pothole, and the ram's head had bounced off of the window with a thunk, with the ram not even stirring. Loud music blasted from the headphones on his ears, and not even that was rousing the snoring caprine. It made this all a little less daring and a little more indulgent, but that was okay.

His tongue slithered down the length of the ram's shaft. He was surprised at how short it was, and how tight the urethra was. Goats and rams tended to have longer, thinner shafts, with kind of sloppy, loose piss holes, the better to spurt out a full prostate's worth of cum out in a single blast. This guy's urethra felt positively virgin.

He glanced worriedly up at the ram's muzzle, but the guy was clearly in his mid 30s, his shaggy red beard baring spots of gray, his nose wrinkled around the corners. Whew. Well into his daddy years. 

Travis' tongue had continued snaking down, deeper and deeper into the slick, hot, tight urethra of the ram's groin, gently prodding and poking its way until it reached the ram's seminal  vesicle, which was packed completely full of seed. He thought it was going to come squirting out the end of his dick as he plunged into it, and he was surprised also at the tartness of the ram's seed. Tartness only came as a result of a deep, long edging session, as in, days or weeks of getting yourself close to the edge of climax and then pulling back. They used to call it 'blue balls' back in the day, but it turned out that that aching feeling in a male's balls when they did that was a build up of a certain kind of chemical residue that the testicles made while creating sperm. If it makes too much, too fast, it's hard for it to purge it fast, and it could cause that aching, swollen, tender feeling. It also, coincidentally, made a male's testicles absolutely delicious.

Any inhibitions Travis had about his indulgence disappeared as he tasted that. His tongue tickled its way down into the ram's scrotum itself, and he was faced with an agonizing decision.

Which of the ram's balls should he eat? He could only take one, so he wanted to make it count. If he took the left one, which was clearly larger, he was at a higher risk of waking the ram up. If he took the right one, he might regret not having gone with the obvious choice later on. Ugh! 

He let his tongue decide, blindly snaking it down and feeling it coil around one of the two perfect orbs. He needed an extra couple of inches of tongue to fully wrap it, a fact that made his tail wiggle, brushing against the tail of the tiger sitting across the aisle from him. He heard the tiger's fingers stop in their tapping, and then, a few seconds later, they started back up again. Whew.

Preds tended to be more forgiving about this sort of thing. 

Travis hauled that trapped ball back up through the ram's urinary system. feeling the flesh slowly, awkwardly stretch and bulge around the captured orb. That wasn't a normal thing at all; Travis was a flesh crafter, and had the innate ability to adjust, mend, or distort flesh as needed. The ram's prostate swelled as his left egg was pulled up through it, and Travis felt the rush of seed that had been trapped there being forced up through the urethra as well. 

This usually happened and was no big deal for Travis - the sperm actually helped lubricate the path for the rest of the testicle to follow. It oozed and pooled out of the end of his dick, though, and a growing spot of seed filled out the front of the ram's shorts, marking his 'nocturnal emission'. 

Travis was really struggling not to clench down with his tongue. The huge egg was slippery, and wide, and it would be so easy to just pulp it and siphon up the pulp with his tongue. He was an anteater though, not an ant... drinker! 

The ram's cock distorted outwards, the slick pool of seed it was submerged in tickling against it as a fist sized egg slithered its way up the ram's length. The very root of his cock, deep in his groin, swelled out first, and the large organ - wider even than the ram's very thick shaft - slid smoothly up and through it. The cock resembled a cartoon hose holding up a reserve of water, all that pressure just waiting to be released.

And then it was. 

Travis clapped his paws excitedly as, in the ram's shorts, a huge rounded egg splurted out of the end of the compressed outline of the ram's soggy wet cock. This, Travis zipped out of the leg of the ram's shorts, wasting no time now. He glanced at the sign overhead, not even looking down at what he had fetched as he reeled the large, private organ up into his mouth.
Martha Street? Perfect. That meant he had at least ten more minutes before his stop. 

Then he tasted it. 

It was succulent. The anteater leaned back in his chair, eyes closing in happiness, his cheeks bulging slightly with the sheer mass of the ram's prized masculinity. It was so juicy, so ripe and full and potent, a concentrated jaw breaker of seed and testosterone and sexual vitality.

"Dude, quiet down," He heard from his right, and glanced at his neighbors. Both the tiger and fox were staring at him, and the fox was shaking his head disapprovingly. He pointed up to a sign over his head: No Consuming Food While the Bus is in Motion.

Travis winced, shrugged, and mouthed 'sorry' to the two predators, and the tiger pulled his fingers over his lip, as if zipping them closed. Then, he winked at the anteater, and they both went back to their writing, leaving Travis to enjoy his treat in silence. 

The testicle melted in his mouth. No, really. It melted like chocolate, losing its solidity and turning into a molten slurry of raw, primal masculinity. He drank the ram's testicle, feeling it soak into his throat and cheeks and under his tongue, filling him with the energy and potency that the ram had so easily lost. 

He really couldn't have just one. He looked back to the ram, his long thin tongue licking at his lips. This was going to be a close one. He only had five or so minutes, now, before his stop. He could do it, though, and wasn't life full of moments like these?

He snaked his tongue out, snout pressing up into the slick, sticky leg hole that was still damp from the slime that the ram's nut had dragged out from inside him. He bypassed the seminal vesicle as he speared down through the urethra and directly into the ejaculation duct, probing past it to probe his long thin tongue straight down into the ram's half-empty scrotum. 

His bulge was already partially deflated, only one huge egg there to take the strain of all that tight fabric, and Travis had to chase that remaining nut around with his tongue as he tried to 'nail it down'.

Then the bus came to a stop - the stop right before his - and the ram's alarm went off. Travis, with his tongue wrapped around the ram's testicle, froze in place, as the ram abruptly woke up. Staggering, half asleep, he slapped at his phone and pulled his legs together. Travis felt the insides of the ram's groin move and clench as he pulled his legs together and abruptly stood up. 

"Scuze me," the ram mumbled, turning to face Travis and shuffling awkwardly past him, his gut hanging down and rubbing against the anteater's snout. The ram didn't seem to notice the pool of cream, maybe a full cup's worth, that was oozing down the inside of his legs. He didn't notice the anteater snout jammed up the leg of his shorts, and he didn't notice the tight band of muscular tongue that was wrapped around his one remaining testicle. 
Travis didn't try to stop him, just staring up at him in shock and terror at this sudden turn of events. He waited until the ram was shuffling with one leg, and not the leg that his snout was tucked against, and used the looseness of the shorts to pull his snout free. His tongue was still snaking though the stud's ejaculatory tract, though. What was he going to do?! If he didn't do anything, he'd be dragged behind the ram out into the rain, and Travis had no intentions of getting wet. 

"Excuse me, is this yours?" Travis heard the tiger say to his right, and glanced over to see that the tiger was holding up a coupon of some sort. 

"What is it?" The ram asked, blearily, and Travis tugged, pulling that trapped nut up through the ram's musky scrotum and into the root of his cock. 

"Oh it's a coupon for half off of any purchase worth fifty dollars or more at Arby's," the tiger said. He offered it to the ram, who grinned and nodded slyly.

"Oh, yup, that's mine alright." The ram took the coupon, as down between his legs, his cock had stretched and distended with the bulk of his remaining testicle being pulled out through it. The tip of it was just peeking out from under the leg of his shorts, looking dark pink and shiny, as the huge gray and pink orb was forcibly birthed from the tip of it. 
 
splurp.

And then the nut was free, and Travis engulfed it into his snout. The ram paused, turned to look at him suspiciously, and then sauntered off of the bus, none the wiser as to what the large bulge at the end of the anteater's long snout actually was.

Which suited Travis just fine! After all, he hated confrontation.

He enjoyed the size, the mass of the large juicy egg in his maw. It was sublime, and he really should have thanked the ram for making it for him. The egg seeped out its potent masculinity, dissolving in the warmth of his mouth, and siphoned gulpfulls of it away from the concentrated bulb, savoring every. last. drop. of the ram's purloined virility. 

He still hadn't finished it, by the time the bus stopped on his street. Travis didn't mind, he wasn't in a rush to finish it. The first ball had been because he just needed to do something fun and indulgent for himself. He hadn't even really tasted the sharp, musky flesh as he had devoured it. 

This ball, he was savoring. Every ounce of it was appreciated, even as it melted down, even as the solid masculine core was diluted into his blood, added into his own masculinity down between his own legs. He stepped off the bus, just as much heavier between his legs as the ram had been lighter between his own, the transaction complete.

Heck, Travis had a car. He only took the bus for fun! He swallowed, smiling brightly as the sun came out from behind a cloud. The rain was over, and Travis had the rest of the night to enjoy this pleasant boon.