The ticking of the kitchen clock filled his ears, its ceaseless droning in time to the thrum of the refrigerator. Naked, Quorol stood over the sink. Bracing himself with one hand, he held the glass of water to his face, seeing the reflection of himself staring back at him. He had done it, he thought, made love to his best friend and roommate. His cock hung slack between his sleek thighs, a tube of pink flesh, shiny and sticky with his expended seed, with the sheen of the raccoon’s fragrant honey. The cat pushed himself from the sink and tipped the glass back. The cool splash burst on his tongue, washing away the taste of Zeke’s sweat, the salty musk which clung to the raccoon’s fur as they both reached that shrieking climax. “It’s done,” he said to himself. Placing the glass down, he strode towards the door to the livingroom. The cold tile tickled the pads of his bare feet and the cat would stop, leaning against the refrigerator. Laying his head back, Quorol let the cooling hum reverberate in his head, letting him drift back to that moment which already felt like an eternity. [center]***[/center] His clawed fingers sank into the grey cheeks of Zeke’s jiggling rump. The fragrance of the raccoon’s lust filled the bedroom, an intoxicating aroma which spurred the cat to thrust his thumbs between those wobbling mounds. Carefully, he parted those globes, laying bare the gaping ring, puckered and ready, weeping its slick desire to run down Zeke’s inner thighs. His cock was throbbing, fully erect, sobbing its shimmering precum as he laid his member between those cheeks, letting the gleaming essence of the raccoon run down his shaft. “This is it,” he said. “No going back.” “That’s right,” answered Zeke. The raccoon lay with his ass in the air, the pillow tucked beneath his milky breasts. He craned his neck to look back at the cat. “No going back.” Zeke could feel the heat blooming in his cheeks, the cool night air kissing his rump. Moonlight streamed through the window, spilling its silver radiance to make the raccoon’s fur sparkle. His cock shivering, Quorol tilted his hips back. His tip came to rest upon that slackened doughnut, its muscles opening to him, beckoning him to slide right in. His heart pounded as he began to push, Zeke’s sudden gasp not helping him in that moment. “O-Oh,” came the warbling cry. The cat pulled back in an instant, his heart leaping into his throat. “Is something wrong?” asked Zeke. “Why did you stop?” “I… That is,” stammered Quorol. “Nevermind. I-I guess I’m just getting a little nervous is all. This is my first time, you know.” Zeke’s ears pricked up and the raccoon smiled into the pillow. “It is? But Quorol, I thought you’ve had plenty of dates in the past.” “Not with another male,” snapped the cat. His pulse roared in his ears. “And certainly not with you.” His hands trembled as he held Zeke’s dimpled ass. Those steely pillows had become massive globes shuddering against his palms as he held himself there. His belly clenched, unable to look away, but unable to proceed. His goddess moaned in his hands, eager for the fateful plunge of his weeping member. His tip came once more to touch that puckering anus, finding the heat of Zeke’s flesh to be soothing as he tilted his hips. He but had to make a single movement and he would enter his friend. “What are you waiting for?” Zeke hugged the pillow close, smelling the scents of the cat as he giggled. “O-Ok,” said Quorol. “Here goes.” Taking hold of Zeke, he pushed, his cock slipping into that tight, wet ring. In an instant, he was drawn deep into that wet, alien world. The raccoon’s body contracted around him, closing itself upon his cock, leading him ever downward in a dizzying plunge to the trembling core of Zeke. Quorol fell atop the raccoon, his cries echoing with the shrill screams of his friend. His cock spurted, spraying its hot precum to paint the quivering gland. “Quorol, not yet,” wailed Zeke, his body flinching as the searing heat touched his prostate. “Please, not yet.” Quorol gripped the raccoon’s hips so fiercely that he feared he would break the skin. His breath heaving in great lungfuls, the feline strove heroically to lift himself. Below him, the grey expanse of Zeke’s back, curving slightly. The bushy tail fell limp to the raccoon’s left side, allowing the cat to see the indent of Zeke’s spine. His fingers shaking, he slid his hands along Zeke’s hips, finding the gravid swell of the raccoon’s pregnant belly. Slowly, gulping as he steeled himself, Quorol shifted his hips, drawing back along the shuddering rectum. Zeke’s body would respond, closing hard, lest the cat be able to escape. Quorol let out a sigh, circling his hips to push in once more. His tip crashed into the quivering prostate, making Zeke cry out, his voice muffled in the stuffing of the pillow. Quorol’s hands slid around Zeke’s belly, his arms wrapping tight around that fat barrel. His white chest would come to rest against the raccoon’s back, the cat’s muzzle blowing faintly into Zeke’s ear. Every breath was a sigh, a whisper which tickled the black triangle, making Zeke tremble. His belly, so heavy with the unborn which grew within him, sagging in the cat’s hands, filling his palms with every sobbing gasp. Never had he felt so full, so content as with Quorol’s manhood buried deep within him. “Quorol,” Zeke began to whisper. “Hush, now,” said the cat. Feeling a new surge of confidence building, Quorol began to buck his hips. Slowly at first, he slid back, his shaft rubbing so deliciously against the smooth walls of the raccoon’s rectum. Zeke offered a shivering sob, his body tensing in Quorol’s hands. The cat set his knees apart, his narrow hips circling, lifting Zeke from the bed. With a flourish, he slid back, hammering the raccoon’s core like a piston. Growing faster, harder, he came in again, pumping with fangs clenched. The scent of Zeke’s fur, of sweat and the raw musk of the raccoon’s lust vied in his nostrils, setting his brain aflame like a drug. The raccoon’s whimpers were in his ears, his desire only growing more intense as his hand crept up the swell of the gravid belly, finding the weeping breast that leaked its rich essence onto the covers as he claimed the erect nipple. Rich, white milk flowed between his fingers, seeping into his fur to drip from his claws as he pinched that tender bud. Stars burst in Zeke’s eyes, the raccoon lifting his head to howl his elation to the ceiling. Quorol would seize the chance to bite down on the raccoon’s ear, pain and exquisite pleasure erupting in Zeke’s brain, his entire body coming alive to the cat’s touch. Those nimble claws would twist, milk jetting from the black nipple to pour upon the bed. Zeke’s hand grasped the strong wrist of his friend, tears streaming down his cheeks as the cat pushed deeper, harder, the raccoon’s belly growing ripe with fresh expansion as his stomach distended to the mattress. The life within him kicked out in protest, furious flutters pounding at his kidneys as the cat battered the gates of his womb. Never had he experienced such joy as he had tonight. “Quorol,” Zeke screamed, tears running freely. “Quorol! Quorol!” “A-Ah, Zeke,” grunted the cat. Quorol had torn himself from the raccoon’s ear, his claws now cupping that swollen breast. His cock was so deeply penetrating that his wiry pubic fur was matted against the slick anus. Churning balls, fat with seed, slapped against Zeke’s scrotum as the pair would cleave together, the wet slap of raw meat an echo to their cries as Quorol felt the tickling sensation in his groin. His cock was spurting, releasing shimmering precum with every pump, ready for the sweet, final climax. With every thrust, he felt himself growing tighter, like a balloon ready to burst and Quorol would close his eyes, burying his face between Zeke’s shoulder blades as he struggled to hold back. Could he really do it? Perhaps, he should pull out now and finish on the bed. As if he were reading the cat’s thoughts, Zeke would say, “It’s not like you can get me pregnant again.” Under his breath, the raccoon then muttered, “But, it would be nice to try.” He craved the hot, virile seed of his friend. He knew not why, maybe the hormones were making him crazy, but he needed it, so badly. He longed for the touch of Quorol, of the warmth of the cat’s breath tickling his ear. Zeke brought a hand to his gravid belly, his fingers spreading over that maternal hump. The flutterings of his unborn bubbled against his palm. Only, it was not really his. That was what hurt the most, that the child within his womb belonged to another. He bit his lip, holding back the tears of grief that threatened to overwhelm his carnal joy. Zeke knew then what it was that he craved the most. He wanted a baby, a child of his own. And there was only one cat with whom he would ever wish to make a life with. Quorol had slid his hand from the heaving breast, wrapping both arms around the raccoon’s belly as his cock could no longer hold back the surging tide of bubbling seed. His spurting tip let forth a shimmering strand, white with the first hint of semen, to splatter against the raccoon’s shattering gates. “Zeke,” Quorol said. “I can’t hold out much longer. It’s time.” “Finish inside me, Quorol,” Zeke pleaded. “I want it so bad.” His body growing tense as steel cable, Quorol would do exactly that. A feral roar was ripped from the cat’s lungs, shaking the very room, setting the bed squeal beneath them as it rocked on its springs. Hot, gushing seed poured forth from Quorol’s tip, flooding into Zeke’s hungry womb. The raccoon let out a thin cry, his belly growing warm as the cat let forth another ropy string. Quorol continued to bury his hot face into the raccoon’s back, his body moving of its own accord. Another and then another, each release would seek to swell the howling creature’s belly, making Zeke appear nearly full term as his middle expanded in Quorol’s hands. Wincing from the sheer tautness of his own flesh, Zeke would run his tongue along his fangs, his eyes rolling up into his head as he swooned. Quorol’s heart thudded against his back, the massive lungs like a bellows as the cat would drink in the cool air of the room. It was everything he had hoped for, everything he needed. Yet, it was still not enough. Quorol fell back from the raccoon, his softening member oozing its final gush onto the fat, jiggling rump as he fell to the bed. Zeke lay beside him, panting, his eyes shining bright. Quorol took a breath and smiled. His cock was growing limp, sticky with a strand of white seed, shiny with the mucusy fluids of his friend. Zeke’s belly was a great orb of sloshing flesh and Quorol placed his hand upon that ripe sphere, feeling the churning beneath his fingers, knowing that he had done this. A sense of satisfaction came over him, a contented realization that this sweetly smiling creature on his bed was now filled with his seed. Thought began to intrude upon him, of Zeke growing round, of giving birth to a grey and white cat with brown eyes. A sibling, perhaps, a raccoon with brown fur and green eyes, its bushy tail striped with white. Suddenly, he tore his hand back as if Zeke’s belly had become something venomous. “I-I got to get up,” Quorol stammered, hopping from the bed. Racing to the door, he stopped as he heard Zeke say, “Quorol? Where are you going?” Not daring to look back, the cat stepped into the hall. His bare feet padded on the carpet, his head spinning as he came into the kitchen. “What am I thinking?” he whispered, grabbing a glass from a nearby cupboard. [center]***[/center] That same glass now sat empty on the counter. Quorol lifted his head from the soothing coolness of the fridge and wandered into the livingroom. The television was turned off, the black glass of the screen reflecting his naked form as he then proceeded back down the darkened hall. The feline’s ear swiveled, seeing a rosy light spilling from his open door. Coming closer, he placed a hand on the jamb and leaned in. The lamp beside his bed was turned on, its rosy hue lighting up the bedroom. Zeke lay on the bed, his fur damp and matted from their lovemaking. His eyes were heavy-lidded, but not yet close. Upon seeing the cat standing in the doorway, he propped himself up on one elbow, giving a small start which brought a black hand to his lips. “Oh, I turned on the lamp while you were away. I hope that was all right.” Quorol nodded, but did not say anything further. He only leaned against the frame of the door, his green eyes turned to the raccoon who reclined on his bed as decadent as an empress. The moonlight sprinkled its dusting of silver along the curving back, making the wide hip shimmer, while the rosy light of the lamp cast its gleam on the swollen belly, bubbling with the furious protest of the raccoon’s unborn. Zeke’s middle appeared for all the world to be distended well into full term, though he had months yet to go and Quorol could not help but to blush at how much he had released into the wailing creature. Never had he been with anyone who had inspired him like Zeke. His cock, though limp from his previous exertions, was beginning once more to stir, the blood pumping in the bulging blue veins which swelled from the pink flesh. Quorol gripped the frame of the door, not taking his eyes from the raccoon. His gaze wandered from the pregnant belly, up to the bloated, milk-heavy breasts which wobbled with every breath. Their glisten nipples, black as midnight and shimmering wetly, thrust themselves up from the grey fur. Streams of white trickled from each glorious stem, running along the bumpy areola to seep into the matted fur as the raccoon would turn his fat rump, still sticky with Quorol’s seed, to lay on his back. His belly was adorned with six additional little gems, like polished jet, each crowned with a white bead of sweet milk. Slowly, Zeke ran his fingers along the swell of his gravid middle, his tongue cleaving to the roof of his mouth as he tilted his head back in contented ecstasy. “Mmm, I’m so full,” the raccoon moaned. Nimble claws raked through the tangled fur, leaving behind shallow furrows in their wake as they circled the hump of his protruding navel. “You really know how to show someone a good time.” From the doorway, Quorol’s ears parted. “Oh, I guess I do. I didn’t really think I had that in me.” Zeke’s smile was radiant as he turned his face to his friend. His eyes sparkled like raw gemstones. In the light of the lamp, those chocolate diamonds took on a life of their own, glowing faintly within the black mask of the creature. “I would say whatever you had, it’s in me now,” laughed Zeke. He gave his round belly a pat. “And I couldn’t be happier. Although, Quorol?” He rolled over, lifting himself from the bed. “Why are you still standing by the door?” He placed a hand on the covers next to him, gesturing for the cat to come. “Come back to bed with me.” Quorol heaved himself from the door and stepped into the bedroom. “Why not,” he said. “It’s my room.” “Yes,” purred the raccoon. “It is [i]your[/i] room. So why not come back and lay down with me? Unless,” Zeke frowned, “you want me to go now. I can head to my room if you want. I suppose I got what I needed.” The raccoon began to rise when a brown hand came to rest on top of his. Zeke stopped and looked up, his gaze falling into those green orbs, so utterly lost was he in the swirl of Quorol’s eyes. The cat stood at the side of the bed, his manhood rising like a spear, proudly standing not quite erect, but soon to be that rigid pole which made Zeke’s belly ache in desire. His heart hammered in his breast, his flesh tingling as Quorol placed a knee on the mattress. The springs squealed in protest to their combined weight as the cat came to lay beside the raccoon. His hand slid up Zeke’s slender arm, his fingers closing around the narrow shoulder. Quorol took in the brown eyes which grew wide as he drew the raccoon closer to him. The sweet breath of his friend blew hot and wet against his lips, the glistening mouth parted ever so slightly, beckoning him to partake of that forbidden chalice. His throat contracted, growing dry and Quorol was forced to smack his lips, swallowing back against the tightness. Zeke was no more the goddess that he had been in the beginning. Now, the raccoon had transformed into something less, a mortal being, fat, soft and weak in the overpowering arms of the cat. Yet, for all that, he had also become something so much more. For the goddess who had swayed in the moonlight was a vision of unearthly beauty. A creature not fully of this world, a being which can only be seen and heard, but never to be touched. Like the nymphs of myth, that vision of Zeke, dancing ethereal in the silver radiance, was a creature which he could never possess. But this Zeke, held in his arms, swollen, panting, this Zeke belonged to him. His hand crept around the raccoon’s shoulder, his fingers running along the curve of Zeke’s spine. Whimpering, the raccoon would snuggle against him, his pregnant belly pushing into Quorol’s abdomen. The milky nipples rubbed into the creamy fur, caressing the rippling muscles of the cat’s belly, making Zeke shudder with a sigh. “O-Oh,” the word came out in a moaning whisper. “Mmm, so strong.” Black paws came to spread across the white chest, their pliant fingers raking into the fur, running along the rise of the pectorals to slide across the cat’s ribs. Quorol’s flesh crawled beneath Zeke’s fingers, his body trembling as he would bring his hand to the wide, round hip, to cup the jiggling rump. Giving a squeeze, he brought a moan to the lips of the raccoon. Such perfect lips they were, puckering in whorish glee. Zeke’s eyes fell closed, his muzzle coming so dangerously close to Quorol’s mouth. The cat’s whiskers bristled, knowing that he only had to tilt his head slightly and they would meet in the kiss that would blast the air from their lungs. He craved that touch, wanting it more than anything in the world. Quorol’s fingers slipped from the raccoon’s sticky rump to seize the full thigh which so happily draped itself over his leg. The heat of the raccoon’s pregnant body was overwhelming, the scents of his musky odor, of sweat and the bitter tang of their previous love all clung to Zeke’s fur like a fragrant perfume. Such a heady bouquet would make the cat’s head swim. He was dizzy, almost swooning with the intoxicating aroma which filled his lungs. He wanted nothing more than to lay with the raccoon, to relish in the absent caress of curious fingers, to inhale the scent of Zeke. He longed to awaken the next morning, the golden sunlight shining through the window, playing across the raccoon’s fur as he slumbered in Quorol’s arms. Above all, he wanted to have sex with Zeke. No, thought the cat, it was more than that. He [i]needed[/i] to have sex with the raccoon. Every cell in his body was crying out to seize the gravid creature in his arms, to pin him to the bed and to fill him, over and over again with his virile essence until Zeke shrieked for mercy. Quorol’s great body trembled, his hand shaking as he removed it from the raccoon’s thigh. His gaze caught the inquisitive stare of his friend, those brown eyes missing nothing. Quorol brought his fingers to the soft, grey cheek just below those eyes. A band of white played below the black mask, running to the raccoon’s lips to make his muzzle snowy. The cat traced that albin field, his finger dipping beneath the black nose to glide across those plush lips. So soft they were, smooth as polished ebony. A knot of terror twisted deep in Quorol’s guts, his body growing damp with the perspiration that prickled his flesh. He wanted so badly to meet those lips, yet he could not. What was he thinking? This was only supposed to be a one night thing. A way to help relieve the poor raccoon. He could not be falling for Zeke, could he? Zeke’s eyes snapped wide, his heart leaping into his throat as Quorol’s finger ran across his lips. His hand shook, grasping the rigid bicep of the feline, his belly quaking against Quorol’s stomach. Nostrils puffing the raccoon would part his lips to encircle the cat’s finger. He expected Quorol to pull back, but when the cat did not, Zeke let his eyes fall closed, his tongue squirming to fold around that furry digit. The salty tang of sweat and the bitterness of their love was on Quorol’s finger, the taste lighting a fire in Zeke’s belly. Slowly, he slid his tongue along the cat’s finger, careful to caress the sharp claw gently as he looped his tongue around that probing member. Quorol’s fingers slid deeper into his mouth, Zeke’s lips closing hard around the furry digit, not wishing for the cat to escape. A moan bubbled up in his throat, a contented hum which vibrated in his chest. His belly shifted, his hand slipping along the curve of his gravid middle to seek the wiry tangle of white pubic fur. Quorol would turn his hand, rubbing the ridges of the raccoon’s palate as he slid from Zeke’s mouth. His finger glimmered, wet with the raccoon’s warm saliva. A thin string clung between them, from the tip of his finger to Zeke’s lower lip as the raccoon smiled back. White fangs flashed with ruddy brilliance in the lamplight, the raccoon’s hand dipping still lower, finding the sleek thigh of his companion. Quorol did not resist as the questing fingers would come to his erect cock. “Oh, Quorol,” Zeke said. He ran a finger along the curve of the cat’s penis, delighting in the rapid pulse of those swelling veins, of the heat that radiated from the pink flesh. “You seem to have another in you afterall.” The cat would only chuckle softly, a low, thrumming purr which made the bed vibrate. “But what about you? I thought you just needed some relief so you could finally sleep?” “I still do,” replied Zeke. “Mmm, I’m getting weary, but I’m just not tired enough, Quorol.” He placed a hand on the cat’s chest. “I’m afraid that I might wake up in the middle of the night and be all out of sorts. You wouldn’t want that to happen, would you?” Taking Zeke’s hand in his brown fist, Quorol would bring those black fingers to his lips. Zeke would shudder rapturously, his joy threatening to burst from him as he held back the cry which strained on his lips. “I suppose that I would not,” said Quorol. “What kind of friend would I be if I let you suffer like that?” “You’re quite right.” Zeke rolled from the cat, to lay on his back. His thighs were parted, his slender manhood rising, a rigid, black pole that shimmered with the opalescent bead of his precum. “You wouldn’t want someone in my condition to suffer all alone, now would you?” Crawling to the raccoon, Quorol took hold of the swollen belly. His lips came to graze the gravid flesh, to taste the sweetness of milk on the wet fur. “No,” he said. “I would never let you be alone.” He was making a mistake. But as he ran his hand down the slope of Zeke’s belly, his fingers brushing the erect nipples that thrust themselves up from the grey fur, Quorol also could not have been happier. If this was a mistake, he thought, then why did it feel right? His hand slipped down Zeke’s lower belly, coming to the jungle of the raccoon’s pubic fur. Absently, Quorol would delve into the fragrant weave, his fingers becoming entangled in the pungent scruff. No longer was this uncharted territory, for every mystery of the raccoon had been laid bare to him since he plumbed those dark and trembling depths. He grazed the slender cock, the ebon shaft convulsing with glee, letting a shimmering bead of precum spill down Zeke’s rod, seeping into the tangled fur which the cat was letting run through his fingers. His face lowering, Quorol would once more claim the offered throat. Zeke would give no resistance, letting his head instead fall back to give the cat his reward. Those sharp fangs pricked the raccoon’s flesh, making goosebumps prickle on his skin, his fur standing on edge as Quorol descended down his neck to fill that empty cup that was his collarbone. Zeke gave a sigh, his body coming alive to the feline’s masterful touch. Gone was that awkward groping, replaced with the confidence of the experienced lover. Two bodies joined, knowing one another. Quorol rose from the cleft of the raccoon’s clavicle, rising up the supple throat, his lips closing on the bobbing flesh of Zeke’s Adam’s apple. Suckling, he would turn his head, sliding along the delicate jaw, cresting the scruffy chin to almost, almost meet those glistening lips. But, the cat would pull back, much to the raccoon’s dismay, returning instead to Zeke’s sternum. While his fingers still tangled into the wiry pubic fur, he would brace himself with his other hand, his muzzle trekking over that expanse of grey, finding the swollen hump that was the raccoon’s engorged breast. Sweet milk still flowed, running in thin streams from the black nipple. The upraised bud called to him, weeping its albin fluids. Quorol brought his mouth to that glimmering tip, licking the cream from Zeke’s skin. The bumpy areola played on his rough tongue, stirring the desire which burned hot within the cat’s belly. He wanted the raccoon so much, needed him more than anything. His lips closed around the black nipple, the room filling with the quiet sucking as the cat began to slurp the rich milk of his love. Zeke dug his trembling hands into the covers, his moaning becoming a chorus to the wet sucking sounds of Quorol. His feet kicked futilely, pounding on the mattress as he tilted his head back to whimper his elation. His head was spinning, growing dizzy on the carnal bliss of this precious moment. His cock spurted, a stream of precum glittering in the air, like the foam from a bottle of champagne freshly uncorked. Quorol’s clever hand claimed his cock, fingers closing around the slender, black rod. With deft, purposeful motions, he stroked, stirring the raccoon to groan, to cry out in tear-streaked exaltation. “O-Oh…Ugh… Ugh…” The guttural cries of the raccoon bubbled up from the bed and Zeke would arch his back, his body squirming in the grip of the cat. Meanwhile, Quorol would let his cheeks swell with the sweet elixir of the raccoon, tasting the sweetness of warm, fresh milk on his tongue. A stream of white trickled from the corner of his mouth, dribbling from his chin as he gulped with relish. The raccoon was more intoxicating than any wine, more wonderful than even the finest of liquors and Quorol knew as he plucked his white stained lips from the leaking nipple, that he would never have enough. His hand would continue to stroke, his wrist moving with purpose, down, up, never stopping as he slid up the shivering rod. His thumb would circle Zeke’s spongy tip, shiny with the sticky precum that wept freely from the raccoon’s gaping urethra. A black hand came to grasp his arm, Zeke’s body quivering with untold jubilation. Such blissful agony could no longer be held back. The air was blasted from his lungs, his mouth hanging open in a silent scream as he felt his pulse pounding in his temples. He needed to breathe, but he could not bear to have the cat stop, not now. Quorol slid his hand up Zeke’s cock, slipping free from the spurting rod, leaving the raccoon a writhing, panting mess on the bed. Sprawled across the mattress, Zeke gasped for breath, his face pale beneath his fur. His belly, so bloated and swollen, swayed with each gasp, his unborn shifting within him, pressing out against the fragile confines of his expanding womb. His belly bubbled, tiny feet pushing out, bringing Quorol to place a hand to the gravid middle, feeling the life within his dear friend. His palm on Zeke’s belly, the cat would then look into the eyes of the raccoon, seeing there the satisfaction which came from their embrace. Gently, lovingly, he slid an arm under Zeke, raising him up from the bed. The raccoon would offer no resistance, allowing himself to fall into the arms of the cat, his belly resting against the rippling muscles of Quorol’s stomach as the cat placed him into his lap. His black hands came to the white chest, his fingers sliding through the creamy fur, softer than silk, until they curled over Quorol’s shoulders. Quorol’s hands eagerly explored the raccoon’s back, claws digging into the grey fur, running along the indent of Zeke’s spine. The bushy tail, ringed in black and grey swayed behind him like a palm frond, wagging as the cat would come to his wide round hips. Zeke lowered his snout, his face blooming scarlet under the grey and white of his muzzle. He dared not look into those green eyes, for fear that he would be eternally lost in the fathomless depths of perfect jade. Instead, he would thrust his lips to Quorol’s chest, inhaling the rich aroma of the cat’s sweat, the pungent musky of his masculine body. Those inquisitive lips would plunge through the white scruff, searching out the pink rose that was the feline’s nipple. As Quorol had done, so too would Zeke claim that rigid bud for himself. The cat let out a moan, his fingers tightening on Zeke’s hips, kneading the soft flesh as the raccoon’s tongue traced his areola. Circling that firm nub, the raccoon would lap the tender skin, bringing his friend ever closer to that howling climax. Quorol’s great body shook, rocking them both, making Zeke’s belly quake as he was bumped and jostled in the feline’s arms. Quorol’s cock wept its bitter tears just below the sticky cheeks of the raccoon, erect and eager to plant itself deep. The cat slid his hands to Zeke’s ass, seizing the flabby rump. With a sudden cry, Zeke tore himself from Quorol’s nipple, leaving a thread of saliva behind to ooze down the white chest. His back would arch, driving his gravid belly into the cat, making Quorol nearly topple backwards as he felt the cool air kiss his battered ring. Like the gossamer threads of a spider’s web, the mucusy strands of Zeke’s lust would spill forth from his stretching rump. Woven with the white ropes of Quorol’s virile seed, those delicate threads clung to his sticky cheeks, gushing from the gaping anus which puckered in rapt expectation. The flesh was bruised and sore, yet it craved the abuse which only Quorol’s throbbing lance could provide. Zeke’s eyes fell closed, his body surrendering to the cat’s touch. He wound his arms around Quorol’s neck, his head resting on the cat’s shoulder. His belly pressed into Quorol’s stomach, his unborn fluttering within him as he hugged his thighs around the cat’s waist. Quorol’s eager fingers slid into those split cheeks, exploring the sticky wet world that was Zeke’s exposed rump. The quiet squelching of their love came to his ears, the cat probing farther, finding the slackening ring. Slowly, he ran a finger around that gaping bloom, careful so as not to bruise the delicate petals of so precious a flower. Zeke would shiver in his arms, his body ready to be taken. “O-Oh, Quorol,” Zeke whispered. “Oh, that is amazing.” He shifted his hips, giving a little shimmy in the cat’s arms. “Mmm, is that a present for me that I feel?” The pink spear that was Quorol’s manhood had risen, slipping between the parted cheeks of the raccoon. Now, Zeke was lowering, his ass coming to meet that weeping tip. This time, there was no hesitation. Zeke’s ass came down, impaling the raccoon on the throbbing rod of the cat. What breath remained exploded from Zeke’s lungs in a single, violent shriek of utter jubilation. He hugged his arms around Quorol’s neck, so tight that he feared he might strangle the feline. But how could he possibly bring harm to those corded muscles, the sinews which swam just below the furry flesh? His trepidation, he would soon discover, was unfounded. For Quorol would thrust, bucking his hips up, crashing his pubic bone into the raccoon’s ass. The cat’s clawed fingers grasped the flabby rump, his hands closing and opening with the rhythm of his movements. Pain and pleasure, that heady cocktail, boiled in Zeke’s brain. His flesh prickled with hot sweat, his body coming alive in the cat’s arms. His belly would clench, rubbing so deliciously against Quorol’s stomach. His hard arm bulging with raw strength, the cat would lift Zeke’s ass, sliding him up his throbbing rod. Instinctively, the raccoon would close up hard, not daring to allow the cat to escape. Such fears would be unnecessary, for just as Zeke’s anus would come to hug his sobbing glans, Quorol would drop him back down, letting the howling raccoon slide slowly, luxuriously, along his pulsating shaft. The pumping veins throbbed against Zeke’s quaking rectum as he hugged that rigid pole, riding it all the way down until his ring struck Quorol’s pelvis. The flowing tip slammed into his prostate, stars bursting in the raccoon’s eyes as ecstasy joyously bubbled in his brain. “Ngh, Quorol,” Zeke moaned. “You’re amazing. So much better than before.” “I guess that was the warm-up,” the cat laughed. “This will be the main show.” “Oh, please,” panted Zeke. “Show me, Quorol. Show me what you can really do. I still need it so badly.” His head resting on the cat’s shoulder, Zeke’s muzzle tickled at Quorol’s neck. His fluttering breaths made the brown and white fur wave, making Quorol’s skin warm as he continued to push deeper, finding the trembling core of his companion. Zeke’s body opened to him, revealing itself to him completely. The raccoon’s shuddering rectum took hold of his cock, leading him, coaxing the cat into that enchanted glade, muscles stroking as Zeke would begin to push back. His body demanded that he claim the cat, his belly thrusting so proudly into Quorol’s stomach. Zeke lifted his head from Quorol’s shoulder, his eyes looking into the green gaze of the feline. His hips began to swivel, to dance to that primal hymn of love, of life. Rising, falling, they turned and swayed to the music which only he could hear. Quorol was now finding himself on the retreat, falling back from the raccoon’s shrewd counterattack. Zeke’s belly pushed against him. Crowned by the glistening ebon buds that were his erect nipples, the raccoon could not stifle the whorish moans which came from his chest. His leaking gems slid along the rippling muscles of Quorol’s belly, relishing the silken smoothness of the white fur. Precious milk leaked onto Quorol’s stomach, wetting his fur as Zeke would circle his distended navel around the cat’s lower belly. “You like this?” Zeke asked. “You like how full I am? How fat and pregnant I have become?” “Zeke, I…” stammered the cat. “Say that you love it, Quorol,” the raccoon snapped. His eyes glimmered with crystalline tears. “Say that you love my belly. You love how big I am. How big you made me. Say it, Quorol.” For an instant, the cat was dumbstruck. What could say that would not be interpreted wrong? His hands fell from the raccoon’s ass, coming to slide up Zeke’s back. Gently, he held the raccoon close, his muzzle burying into Zeke’s neck. “I love it,” he said at last. “I do love the way your belly feels, so full and round.” “I know,” answered Zeke. “Quorol, I know it so well. And it makes me happy that you love it.” He turned his watery gaze up at the cat. “B-But, we’re still just friends, right? Um, nothing else?” “Uh, yeah,” Quorol said. “We, um, are still friends. Nothing more than that. Why would we be anything else?” The raccoon rocked back on the cat’s cock, Quorol’s shivering tip spurting against his prostate. Shuddering, Zeke slid back from Quorol, his back tilting backwards. The cat seized his falling arms, preventing Zeke from collapsing to the bed. Craning his neck over the swell of his pregnant belly, of his wobbling breasts, Zeke then said, “Because I begin to fear that after this, we may be something else.” Quorol felt his heart leap into his throat. “Or maybe not,” Zeke then said. “But let’s not dwell on that. For now, let this moment belong to us.”