Obligatory Content Warning: The following story contains EXPLICIT GAY SEX between and adult and a CUB.  If this offends you, DO NOT READ ON.  By reading beyond this point, you waive your right to be offended by my work, because you were WARNED.  SO, for those of you who I haven't scared off... enjoy!

It had been a long day for Roger.  Working as a ranger at a large national park certainly had its perks -- long hours spent in the great outdoors, the fresh air and sunshine that are impossible to come by in modern offices -- but then there were the days when he had to deal with the visitors.  There were all kinds: weekend outdoorsmen (who invariably didn't pack properly, or clean up their camp sites, and every now and then required rescue), the starry-eyed cityfolk who'd never even heard of poison ivy and couldn't tell an oak from a fir tree (thankfully they never wandered too far into the woods), and worst of all, the family day trips.  Nothing grated in the deer's nerves more than screaming cubs.  It certainly didn’t help that the parents NEVER seemed to want to control their cubs.  Why was it HIS responsibility to rescue the cubs because some stupid bitch can’t keep an eye on her offspring?!

Nevertheless, the deer wouldn’t trade his job for anything.  He’d just have to deal with issues as they arose.  And many had already come up.

It was a typical Saturday at the park -- parents flocked in to the lake-side beach, bringing along excited cubs and resentful teens.  Two calls had already come in about improperly built fires, and Roger just knew that the goddamned husky who’d gone off on a hike with a knapsack filled with candy bars was going to either get himself hopelessly lost on the many trails winding through the forest, or else leave plenty of litter for him to deal with later.  Either way, that guy was going to be a headache.

Right now, though, things had settled down.  The buck laid back in his chair, letting out a small sigh of relief that for the moment, it was his colleagues who’d have to deal with the idiot campers and assorted visitors ruining what would otherwise be a perfect spring afternoon.  One of the reasons the deer stuck with this particular job was the solitude it provided.  And right now, he wasn’t going to let anything ruin his afternoon.

As he laid back, Roger idly reached a paw down to fondle himself through his khaki shorts.  His favorite perk of his job, by far, was all the time he had alone when on the clock.  Especially when he was outside doing rounds on the trails.  It wasn’t uncommon for the buck to make his rounds with his cock in his paw, and more than a few orgasms had been had right in this very chair in the ranger station.  He was just about to unzip when the door opened, signaling that yet another group of weekend nature-seekers was looking for something.

Turning to the door as he stood, the deer was greeted by... perhaps not the strangest group he’d seen, but certainly an unusal one.  Most of the families he’d seen had tended to be all one species.  But this one... one of the adults was a wolf, who looked to be in his early thirties, tufts of white showing in the grey fur around his muzzle, a toned body showing through his plain red t-shirt.  In the moment he saw the back of the wolf’s jeans, he almost swore he picked out the outline of a holster.  The other adult was a fennec fox.  He barely seemed to be an adult, but a quick glance as his paw revealed a wedding band.  The fennec was certainly not as well built as the wolf, not to mention almost a full head shorter, but the tight blue t-shirt and shorts he wore left little to the imagination.

But it was the curious cub with the two of them that really caught the buck’s eye.  The cub looked to be about five or six, and wore khaki shorts and a baggy green t-shirt.  His fur, though... hot pink, with white around the chin and going down.  And his species was hard to pinpoint -- his face betrayed vulpine features, but his tail was incredibly large, almost like a squirrel’s.  Of course, this assumed he even WAS a boy!  Cubs that age could be hard to tell, and the pink fur might have suggested a female... until his father cleared it up.

“Now, son, remember to stick close to Daddy Fopsie and me,” the wolf said, picking up a map of the park’s trails from the rack.

The cub giggled, his tail swishing about as he looked at all of the pamphlets, picking up a colorful one about the plant life in the park.  “Ok, Daddy,” the cub replied, opening up the pamphlet and skimming through it.

Roger watched the cub for a moment, unable to take his eyes from the cub’s slightly chubby frame.  As the seconds dragged on, he cleared his throat.  “Anything I can help you gents with?” he asked, turning his attention up to the adults’ eye level.

Roger’s eyes immediately locked with the wolf’s.  The look in the wolf’s eye seemed to scream ‘I saw you checking out my cub,’ without betraying in any way how he felt about it.  His look certainly wasn’t an ‘I’m going to kill you’ look, though if the buck had correctly identified the holster earlier, it could certainly be a possibility.  For now, playing it cool was probably the best way to go.  Besides, as soon as they left, he could take care of the expansion in his pants, which for the moment he prayed wasn’t noticable.

The fox spoke up.  “Yes, actually.”  He grabbed a map and walked up to the ranger, standing next to him as he unfolded it.  “I was wondering if you could give us a suggestion for a good, easy trail.  Something with some nice scenery along the way.”

Roger inwardly rolled his eyes.  They were probably going to be one of THOSE families.  “I’d recommend either this trail or that one,” he said, pointing out a couple of routes on the paper.  “Nothing too steep, and from this outlook, you get a nice view into the valley below...” he said, trailing off at the end as he noticed the cub wandering closer to him.

“You gots a stiffy, dontcha?” the cub asked.

Roger gasped and stumbled backwards, walking right into his desk.  “Why, whatever would give you tha--”

He stopped abruptly as he felt the cub’s paws groping him through his shorts.  “You dooooo!  You doooooo have a stiffy!” he declared.

The wolf stepped up and gently batted the back of the cub’s head.  “Now, Beau, what have I told you about groping people?”

Beau squeaked and pulled his paws back.  “Sorry, Daddy...”  He looked up at the buck, and giving his best smile, said, “Can I touch it?”

“Whaaaaa...”  Roger stared down at the cub, then slowly looked up at the adults.  The fennec had stepped back with a paw over his mouth, seeming to try to stifle laughter.  The wolf had his arms crossed behind his back, and was looking the buck up and down, seeming to appraise him.  After a few moments, the wolf gave a subtle nod.

Roger grabbed the desk behind him, heat rising both in his loins and in his cheeks.  Here he was, just having received a blessing from two adults to let their cub play with him.  Never before had a thought like that crossed the buck’s mind, but with such a tempting proposition right in front of him... how could he refuse?

“Umm... sure... I guess,” Roger managed to say.

In seconds, his zipper was down and his cock out in the open.  He stared down in awe at the boy’s quick paws, and gasped as he felt them wrap around his exposed member.

“Ooooh!  Ish looong!” Beau said, giggling as he started to stroke it.  “Nuh as thick as Daddies’, buh long!”

The buck’s head shot up at that, making eye contact again with the wolf.  The wolf merely nodded again, and brought a paw to his muzzle, dragging two fingers across as though pulling an imaginary zipper.  Message received: this wasn’t leaving this room.

Another gasp escaped the buck’s lips as he felt the cub’s tongue start to bathe his tip.  He gripped the desk hard as he started to dribble pre, the cub eagerly lapping it up.

“He’s good, isn’t he?” the fennec whispered.

Roger could only nod, biting his lip to keep from moaning loudly at the treatment from the cub.

“Mmmm... tasty!” Beau said, taking Roger’s tip into his muzzle, earning another appreciative moan from the buck.

Before this moment, Roger never would have seen himself in a position to be getting a blow job from a cub, let alone ENJOYING it.  But try as he might, he couldn’t deny to himself that this cub was talented beyond belief with his muzzle, and he knew it wasn’t going to be long before he was blowing his load right into that cub’s mouth.

Electric waves of pleasure flowed through the buck’s body as the cub’s mouth worked the first three inches of his nine inch length.  It was almost too much to stand -- until the cub pulled his muzzle back.

“Can I twy ridin its?” Beau asked.

Roger’s eyes popped open as he looked down at the cub.  “R-ride... wha...”

Beau giggled and turned around, bending over and pulling his shorts and undies down, revealing his snug little pucker.  “Yeah!  Ya know, put it in here!”

Now, Roger was certainly no stranger to anal sex.  Quite a few of his partners had asked for it.  But a cub, especially one so small, hardly seemed like he’d be able to handle the buck’s cock.

“B-but... there’s no lube...” he protested lamely.

A clack on the desk drew the buck’s attention.  He looked to the source of the sound, and saw a small bottle of lube sitting on the desk, and the wolf’s retreating paw.  “We never go anywhere without it,” the wolf said.

Almost as though in a trance, Roger walked around behind his desk and sat down in his chair.  He watched as the cub followed him, leaving his undies and shorts on the floor as he went, and climbed up into the buck’s lap.  Roger noticed that the boy was sporting an erection of his own, the boy’s small penis standing proudly away from his body, the slight curve of his member accentuating the gentle bulge of his tummy.

The fennec let loose a little giggle.  “Need some help lubing up?”

Roger only had enough time to nod briefly before the cub’s paws landed on his shoulders and pulled himself up, the boy’s lips greeting his own.  For a moment, Roger’s paws lay loosely at his sides.  Once his senses reconnected, he wrapped his arms around the boy’s chest, holding the cub close as he started kissing back enthusiastically, his tongue invading the little cub’s maw as the fennec began pouring generous amounts of lube over his penis.

Sensory overload.  That was the only way Roger would be able to describe it later.  A nude cub in his lap, the boy’s father prepping his penis to sink into the boy’s behind, his tongue in a little cub muzzle -- a slice of heaven, perhaps.  His paws roamed all over Beau’s body, feeling every curve of the boy’s body, the babyfat still clinging to his frame, his soft, well-groomed fur, the delicate flesh of the boy’s malehood -- the first cock besides his own that the buck had ever held.

When the cub pulled back from the kiss, Roger nearly panicked.  Had he done something wrong?  Had the cub changed his mind?  Were his parents going to intervene?

He needn’t have worried.  As he opened his eyes, he saw the cub gripping the arms of the chair as the fennec helped line up the buck’s cock with the cub’s pucker.  His jaw dropped as he saw his tip disappear into the boy’s rear, and moaned out as he sank into the boy’s hot, velvety tailhole.  His paws flew to the boy’s hips, holding him steady as inch after inch sank into the cub, until those soft cheeks made contact with his crotch.

The cub seemed to be straining a bit, but not in pain.  “Ngh... s-sooooo big...”

Roger gaped at the cub, hardly believing that his entire length had sunk into him.  “H-how...”

The wolf came up behind Roger and whispered in his ear, “Our cub here is... quite special, as you can see.”

The fennec grinned.  “Yeah... Beau, think you can show him some of your other skills?”

Beau giggled and wiggled a bit in the buck’s lap as he started to bounce, the buck’s cock pleasantly squeezed as the cub worked himself around it.  “Like whu, Daddy?”

Roger watched as the fennec leaned in and whispered something in the cub’s ear, earning a giggle from the kit.  Right before his eyes, the boy’s fur began to change color, transitioning from pink to brown to grey to yellow and back to pink.  He was about to inquire, when an extra tight squeeze of the boy’s backside sent another wave of pleasure coursing through his body, the only sound escaping his mouth being a long, rich moan.

“The joys of a shapeshifter,” the wolf muttered.

The buck’s hips began to work on autopilot, driving the deer’s dick deep into the cub, thrusting in with reckless abandon, his mind clouded by the pleasure coursing through his body.  Almost before he’d even realized it, he was cumming, shooting blast after blast of his thick cum into the cub’s rear.  It completely overwhelmed him, and as he finished up, his senses completely left him, the pleasure pushing the buck beyond consciousness.

When he finally came to, the family had gone.  Roger looked around, then down at his crotch.  His cock was tucked back away in his pants.  He settled back in the chair and sighed.

“Did I imagine the whole thing?” he muttered aloud to himself.  He reached into his pocket for his handkerchief, and felt a piece of paper he knew wasn’t in there before.  Slowly, he withdrew it and unfolded it.  On the paper was a phone number, and a short note: ‘Call if you want another round.’

With shaking paws, Roger pulled out his cell phone from his shirt pocket, and saved the number to his contacts.  He had tomorrow off, and suddenly his Sunday was looking a lot more exciting...