The smell of the salty sea was particularly strong on Termina’s docks, the alabaster white city’s walls encrusted with brine. But nowhere was the sea’s scent stronger than on those docks, and in the sensitive nose of one particular leonid dockworker named Ahsaad. The tall muscular beastman was working hard, as he always did, to unload ships into the warehouses along the harbor’s edge. Bags of grain, crates of goods, barrels full of spirits and oils, all were carried upon his wide, powerful shoulders to their storage destinations. Ahsaad was a young lion, youthful vigor adding its fire to his strong body. He was toned and muscular, his body carved into shape by years of hard work on the docks. His auburn fur was forever crusty with salt from the sea, and glistening with his sweat, his mane pulled back away from his face with a woven seaweed band. His chest and stomach were bare, his arms circled with bands of red cloth. Around his neck hung strings of beads and seashells, trinkets acquired over the years. A pair of baggy red pants covered him from the hips down to his large footpaws. 
Ahsaad grunted as he reached down and grabbed a burlap sack of grain from the pile aboard the ship. The weight of it made him strain a little, his back protesting slightly as he straightened up. It had been a long day, the festivals in town this week making him work extra hours and often into the night to get all of the ships unloaded of their goods that the merchants wanted to sell during the festivities. The sun beat down on his neck and shoulders, even with his thick golden mane to protect it. He could feel fresh sweat beading on his brow beneath his fur, running down into his eyes and dripping from his nose. His back wasn’t the only thing protesting however, as he stumped along the dock with his burden. His girl was a merchant who was planning on selling during the festival and she had been very busy lately, and preoccupied with her work. Ahsaad, being a young lion, had insistent needs. Needs that had not been met in over a week. His heavy balls ached inside his pants, the heat and the exertion causing them to churn. He sighed, tired of feeling his stomach tighten every time one of his female employers passed him, tired of shivering every time he smelled their perfume. 
The lion stepped into the cool shadows of the warehouse, the scent of the sea replaced by the dusty smell of wooden crates and barrels. The tropical sun still filtered in through high windows, enough to light the inside of the warehouse, but not enough to make it hot inside. It was cool and dark, the dusty air inside instantly congealing and cooling the sweat in Ahsaad’s fur. He dumped the bag of grain onto the pile he had been constructing and sighed, wiping his brow. He stretched, arching his back until he felt his vertebrae crackle. He stood a moment, feeling his body. His muscles were burning, as they did every day. He felt fatigued, and horny. He could smell the tang in his sweat, the musky male scent of arousal underneath the salt of his exertion. His cock tingled and his balls hung heavy against his thighs. He struggled with himself a moment, staring through the open door out into the blinding white sun of the docks. He jumped slightly, however, when a horn blast echoed outside. Lunchtime. Ahsaad watched his coworkers filtering past the open door one by one, each of them eager to eat. No one noticed him standing there beside a pile of grain sacks. That settled it. 
Ahsaad turned and moved to the back of the warehouse, where a pile of barrels and crates were stacked nearly against the wall. He had to scramble up the side of one crate and over a few barrels, but he found what he was looking for. A gap, a semi-circular niche against the wall where the barrels and crates had been stacked away from each other, making just enough room for one horny young lion to slip down into it. It was a perfect spot for intimacy and a little alone time, the barrels and crates forming an impenetrable wall on three sides, the wall of the warehouse blocking the fourth. Ahsaad purred lightly to himself, rubbing his paws against his chest and stomach, feeling the moisture of sweat under his fur, cooling steadily in the dark cool air. He slipped his paws down, letting his thumbs catch his waistband and he pulled. His baggy red pants slipped down his legs, pooling in a heap atop of his broad footpaws. He flexed his toes, feeling the cool air prickle against his sweaty balls, causing them to draw up just a little. They buzzed expectantly, his cock, heavy and thick, plumping on its own as though it knew what was coming. It was impressive, a hefty shaft of tawny skin crowned with a purple-pink head at its tip. He was proud of it. He reached one paw down and curled his fingers around his cock, squeezing from base to head in one long milking pull. His cock flexed, and filled out more, hastily becoming erect. It stood up, jutting out in front of him like a spear. His musk doubled as his heartbeat quickened, his blood filling with the fire of arousal. He let it jut out in front of him alone for a moment, just enjoying the feeling of having an erection, the blood stretching out the skin of his cock, making it taut, making it hard. He cupped his balls, and they ached impatiently, nearly as heavy as one of those grain sacks. 
He tugged lightly at his cock, his calloused paws moving over soft, sensitive skin uncomfortably, even with his foreskin. “Fuck.” he cursed quietly. One of the downsides of being a dock worker. Rough hands and a tender sensitive cock from forever being sweaty and hot inside your pants. Luckily, however, an amphora of oil was sitting close enough nearby that Ahsaad was able to pour some over his paws. He tried again, his paws glistening with the oil, and as his slick fingers slid down his shaft he purred, toes curling. God it felt so good! He breathed out a sigh of pleasure, his cock tingling as his paws spread the oil over his needy cock, stroking it slowly. He looked down, watching his dick glisten in the shadowy light of the warehouse, his cockhead bright purple and engorged already. His muscles tingled as his paws pumped up and down his big lion cock steadily his balls swaying between his thighs with each pump. He trembled, his hips flexing, making his cock slide in and out of his paws just as much as his paws slid up and down his cock. He fucked his hands, growling in pleasure. He didn’t have long, he knew, before lunch was over and he had to get out of the warehouse so no one would suspect him. He felt his balls boiling, the cum in them seething as he stimulated his dick. He wouldn’t need much longer. He tossed his head, hearing the beads around his neck clatter faintly on his chest, hearing his toes scraping the stone flood. He kicked his foot, sliding his pants away from him, so they didn’t get marked with his seed when he came. He was close already, his heart pounding, his head swimming. Heat exhaustion, sore muscles, aching balls, all of it was nearly sitting the big lion on his ass, rather than on his feet. But he managed to stay upright long enough to climax. He felt it surging up, his body tensing. His muscles clenched tight, veins bulging out on his biceps and on his thighs, his abs curling his chest over his cock as the orgasm rose from his loins. His face clenched, snarling in a rictus of pleasure as his hips bucked and sent him to his knees, his cock swelling up, underside pumping full of semen before the first long yellowed rope of pungent cum gushed out of his tip. He humped into his oily hands, head thrown back and roaring as he spurted again and again, painting the floor in front of him and the crates in gobbets and streams of his fermented semen. It felt so good! Orgasm blended with the pain in his muscles and his nuts churned, aching even as they emptied, nearly short-circuiting the young lion’s brain. 
Finally, after almost a full minute of cumming, Ahsaad came down. The rage of orgasm faded into the warm drunken buzz of afterglow. He sagged, cum and oil slippery paws dropping to his sides. His dick still jutted out, glistening, drooling cum but sagging, softened. His balls drooped, empty. All around him the smell of sweat, semen and musk floated like a cloud. He stood up, legs trembling as he pulled on his pants, knowing he was going to leave a wet stain down his legs. He climbed over the crates, planning to jump in the ocean as soon as he got outside. That would take care of the smell on him. He just hoped no one needed those crates for a week or so, unless they wanted to smell a horny, pent up lion.