Petting Zoo – (Owen) Clean-Up
“Would you mind...” Owen started to ask, trailing off. Even now that his own immediate need had been spent, his erection softening inside Vince, his jizz oozing into a warm spot over his crotch, he still felt aroused: he still hungered to partake in more sex stuff, particularly as he was here. He'd paid good money to come, after all. That, however, didn't immediately get him over his natural shyness about asking for what he wanted during sex; especially now that the madness of his balls had been squirted out of him.

“Would I mind what?” Vince replied, the half-man, half-border collie sliding up from where he'd been resting on top of Owen.

“I don't know,” Owen admitted. “I guess I don't want to waste any of my time here.”

Vince smiled, agreeing, “Of course! Most people don't get to live out their fantasies every day. Do you want me to show you around, introduce you to some of the other guys, or - ”

Owen interrupted, “No, I guess I'm kind of interested in what your cock feels like. To touch, I mean.” After having said it, he felt awkward again: he didn't want Vince thinking he was too weird. “I mean, I wouldn't do it to a dog dog, but - ”

“But,” Vince finished, “this is different. Don't worry; I used to be one hundred percent human too, the rest is really just cosmetic.” Giving Owen a wink, the dog-man sat up, letting his red rocket bounce up from where it had rested against Owen's skin. Owen let him grab his hand, guiding it over Vince's canine shaft. The slightly shortened, clawed fingers interleaved with Owen's longer, fully-human fingers.

It didn't feel as wet as Owen had assumed it would be: it was really more like touching the tip of the dick of an uncircumcised man, only if the tip extended the entire length of his shaft. It seemed to behave in the same way, Vince sighing and panting loudly as Owen started to stroke. Vince leaned back, grinding against Owen's crotch, pushing up into the hand.

Vince was rather well-hung, or would have been for a human. Owen wasn't really sure how to gauge; the exposed shaft his hand ran over with a tightening grip was about the average for a human, but that didn't include the sheath, which was the same length again. The shape also made it hard to gauge: was he supposed to start from the top of the pointed tip, or where it started to become more cylindrical?
“Why am I worried about this?” Owen wondered, annoyed at himself. He stroked Vince's cock as the border collie played with his two nipples, tilting his head back, letting the wind fluff the white ruff of fur running down his throat. Owen realised that Vince was a prostitute of sorts, so might just be putting on a show: on the other hand, he was certain guys usually enjoyed getting their dick stroked, and the pre-cum running over his fingers suggested Vince was at least enjoying some of it. His other hand had joined in, his finger sliding over the fleshy sheath, curious as to what that felt like.

His own cock, soft and flopping but still trapped in Vince's hole, was slightly uncomfortable, but Owen didn't want to move it: it was nice having Vince right where he was, his tail swaying from side to side, sending ticklish twitches through the inside of his legs. Vince's pleasure moans were quite strange: usually he'd go “yeah” or “I like that”, but occasionally he seemed to slip into more of a canine mode and whine instead.

It was then that Owen noticed the bulge; it swelled up underneath the gentle touch of his fingers, ballooning out the flesh just enough to be noticeable. He'd known about dogs' penises and “knots” from the internet, but seeing and feeling one forming in front of him was something else. It was quickly increasing in size, and Owen upped the rate of his stroking to compensate: the idea of Vince soaking his chest with jizz suddenly clicked in his head as the thing he needed to do, at least once while he was here.

Vince's knot swelled quickly; Owen's fingers were getting sticky from the dog-man's leaking fluids as they dribbled down the red, veiny shaft. Vince thrust into Owen's hands; Owen could tell that he was getting pretty close, as Vince was getting so carried away he hadn't really picked up on Owen's slightly painful expression as his cock, having worked its way free from Vince's ass, was getting slightly crushed when he pulled backwards.

Grunting loudly, Vince's hands quickly joined Owen's. Owen kind of felt like he'd been forgotten, which made him slightly annoyed. Vince guided Owen's hand around the bulge, getting him to squeeze on it with interwoven fingers. It was surprisingly big: not enough that he really needed both hands, but still rather large. Owen shivered slightly, imagining it pushing into his asshole; his sphincter tightened from the imagined discomfort.

Pulled out of his thoughts by a particularly loud howl from overhead, Owen had about a half-second to close his eyes from when he noticed the thick, creamy blast of semen heading for his face. It was heavy and warm, and there seemed to be a lot of it: Vince would pant raggedly, then moan as another ice-cream-scoop's worth of juices would spill out, making an elongated puddle over his chest and face.

“At least he's stopped bouncing on my dick,” Owen thought as Vince sagged forwards, content to let Owen keep squeezing his knot without any input from him. His paws pinned Owen's shoulders into the ground; the white fur of his underside sliding up and down as he breathed, dragging through the still-expanding puddle of semen on Owen's chest. All the same, Owen decided, he'd enjoyed that: it was a pretty novel experience, and Vince had been quite the producer, leaving his chest quite heavily coated.

“It'll take a while,” Vince warned him, “until I'm done; I think it might be a dog thing, but it might be something Paul put in.” Owen could tell he was right; after the first set of huge loads had stopped, there'd be the occasional, smaller burst that would splat down into the growing puddle of seminal ooze on his chest. “We could go do something if you wanted, or if you want the full experience, we could just sit here and talk.”

“That sounds fine,” Owen agreed. Groping around for a conversation topic, he asked, “You were human before, I believe you said?” It wasn't a question as such, but he stated it like one.

“Yeah,” Vince answered, in between pants. “I used to be a furry – obviously, I guess – and I heard about this place through a friend who comes here once a month or so.”

“A rich friend?” Owen guessed. He knew how much this trip had cost him; it wasn't something that most people would get to do regularly. “Or just bad with money,” Owen added to himself.

“Mmhmm,” Vince agreed with Owen's first guess. “I couldn't pay, of course, but I was willing to earn my keep, as it were.” His paw had wandered down to his shaft, squeezing it a bit, trying to quicken out the last few squirts.

Owen wondered, “But to give up a normal life...” When Vince looked at him quizzically, he elaborated, “Well, not a lot of people have heard about this place, or you guys, and it's not like you can really leave the farm.”

Vince laughed, “Oh, we're not prisoners or anything stupid like that. It's not permanent; Paul's got our human DNA stored so he can make us normal if we want to leave. Or just enough if it's to go visit our families for Christmas or whatever; it's just a huge hassle, so we tend not to do it a lot. Besides, we can do most of the stuff on the internet nowadays, which saves us a lot of bother.”

Owen's eyes widened; that really wasn't what he was expecting. “It seems pretty permanent,” he argued.

“Well, I don't think I'm going to leave anyway, so I don't really think about that a lot.” Vince laughed. “I don't understand a stuff, I'm just here to get fucked by hot furry guys, and any guy who's interested in coming by, like you. Speaking of which, I think I'm done.” Vince pulled himself away from Owen, the drying cum making a wet crackling sound as he moved his furry body away from Owen.

“I could do with some freshening up,” Owen noted.

“Me too,” Vince grinned back, rubbing his paws through his sticky fur. “We've got a pool. It's not really swimming weather, but there's a hot spa nearby, and we can pop in there afterwards to warm up afterwards. Plus it'll let me give you a bit of a tour”

“Sounds good,” Owen agreed, scrambling to pick up his discarded clothes and stuff them into his backpack. Vince seemed content to be standing around, but Owen felt the need to fill the silence. “So,” he asked, “why a dog?”

“Are you wondering why I'm a dog-guy?” Vince replied, the lips of his muzzle wrinkling into a smirk. “You came here too, surely you see the appeal.”

“No,” Owen clarified, “I meant versus a horse or bull or whatever.”

“Well, I always wanted to be a dog,” Vince answered. Owen was ready to leave, so they walked while Vince explained further. “I was kind of surprised there wasn't already a dog here.” That surprised Owen as well: after all, dogs, foxes and wolves were all relatively popular on the furry circuit. “But most people don't stay here very long: there was a lot of people here in the summer, and things apparently pick up around winter too. Thinking about staying?”

“I didn't know that was an option,” Owen admitted. Paul hadn't said anything about that; maybe because it wasn't something he wanted being seen as a possibility.

“Well, you have to work for it,” Vince said. “Farm chores, for example.” He gestured at a large, tall-doored building; although it was dusty, the black paint on the doors looked reasonably recent. “That's the stables, most of the bigger guys hang out there, and at night we put on a show if a guest has paid for it. The stalls are a pretty good place for some dirty fucking if you want the feeling of being outdoors while having some privacy. That's also where a lot of the kinkier stuff gets stored: in the hay-loft.”

Owen nodded; he wasn't really interested in a lot of that stuff, but he'd be curious to see what they had. He snickered, drawing a curious murmur from Vince. Owen grinned, “Oh, just wondering if you guys bothered with getting any of the more exotic-shaped dildos when you actually have the cocks?”

Vince nodded, “Yeah, that's one of the side businesses: Paul gets casts from us and makes dildos to distribute, along with a bunch of other stuff. For people who want a memento of their time here, or who can't actually afford to come all the way here themselves but would kind of like to.”

Between the house and the barn was a wooden fence; Owen knew they used them with horses a lot, but was curious why they needed them here when they didn't seem to be doing any actual farming. The place, he thought, would have been even better without the fences cutting up everything. Being able to wander about freely, without worrying about borders – beyond the natural ones, of course – would have made this place an even more utopian getaway.

The fence zagged a little while ahead, past the edges of the farmhouse, into a small flower garden. It looked nice enough – Owen guessed it really wasn't the right season for most of the plants to be flowering – and Vince pointed out a couple of rooms.

“We all usually stay inside the house in one of the bedrooms,” the border collie said. “Though we usually share. Some of the big guys prefer staying out in the barn – unless there's a show going on, of course – but I mean after. Though that's usually in the spring and summer, when it's a bit more regularly warm.”

“Do you spend the night outside sometimes?” Owen asked.

“Not a lot, but yeah,” Vince answered. “Sometimes the clients want to go out; it's usually worse for them since they don't have the fur or hair that most of us do, plus most of the guys are used to it. Plus, we don't get sick; not even STDs, which is obviously a big help.”

Owen smiled, looking around at what must have been an expensive property. Around the back of the house, the garden giving way to a cemented area hidden from the driveway by the slightly uneven terrain. There were two “pools”: one was small and circular, the other was larger and irregularly shaped. Both were covered; the smaller by a raised cover, the larger by a large blue tarpaulin sheet. The protection looked prudent; even though there wasn't a lot of trees nearby, the coverings had still collected leaves, twigs and other bits of plant litter and rubbish. Off to the side, a large pipe jutted out of the ground, looping up and ending in a wide, weather-beaten shower head. Another faucet came out of lower down, like the shower was sporting a metallic cock.

“Want to help me with this?” Vince said, pointing to the blue tarpaulin. Stashing his backpack on the edge of the cement, Owen walked over while Vince described what to do. It turned out to be pretty simple: untie the ropes coming off of the tarpaulin that connected it to some metal rings. “Careful of those,” Vince warned, “you don't want to trip over them.”

“No running around the pool, huh?” Owen joked.

Vince smiled, and stated pointedly, “Yeah; besides, there's a lot of better ways to have fun in a pool than running like an idiot.”

Owen flushed; his body was just at that stage where he was still kind of worn out from fucking, but he could still get somewhat aroused, and his mind had recovered its desire for sex. They peeled off the tarpaulin carefully: it was wide enough that any detritus on the edge didn't end up in the water, which was surprisingly clean. The stench of chlorine that first hit his nose slowly dissipated under the slight breeze that swayed the trees and occasionally made a whistling sound run through the area.

Following Vince's lead, Owen shook the debris off the tarpaulin and rolled it up. Overhead, clouds rolled across the sky, leaving shadows sending shivers crawling across his back as he tied the ends of the tarpaulin on two more metal hoops embedded into the cement.

“We'll get the spa later,” Vince stated, “just in case the wind picks up.” Before Owen could react, the border collie leaped into the pool, surfacing a couple of seconds later after he'd covered a quarter of the length of the pool. “Fuck it's cold!” he squealed out, gripping onto the side of the pool, pulling himself out in one smooth motion.

Owen was a bit more cautious, dipping a toe in. The water was icy, and felt even more so after he pulled his foot back into the air.

In sudden realisation, Vince asked, “Uh, do you know how to swim?”

“No,” Owen had to admit. “Well, kind of, but not well. I haven't done it in a while.”

“Try the shallow end, then,” Vince advised. Following the end of the clawed digit, Owen wandered over to have a look: tiled cement steps led down into the pool from the side Vince had been on when they'd uncovered the pool. “Just stand on the steps, and go in a bit. I'll join you in a sec.” The dogman then dove into the pool again.

Shivering, Owen stepped into the pool until the water was ankle-high. His nipples hardened, his skin covering in goose-pimples. Vince swam up closer, his fur slick against his body. Grabbing Owen's butt and grinning, he pulled him down; Owen quickly stepped down, leaving his cold-shrivelled cock jiggling as the water came up almost to his knees. “Fuck, it is cold,” Owen agreed with Vince's earlier statement, his jaw quivering as he fought to stop his teeth chattering.

“I did warn you,” Vince said, pulling Owen down a step. “Let's get you clean,” he suggested, as Owen went down another step: Owen squealed when his genitals entered the water. Curling up around Owen's legs, floating in the water, Vince let out his tongue, sliding it over Owen's still-sticky chest.

Owen didn't mind being licked – in fact, he kind of enjoyed it – but that became part of the problem: he started to get hard, which wasn't really pleasant when his balls felt like they were about to turn blue and fall off. That didn't even take into account him falling over in the water, where he'd probably nearly drown and then feel like an idiot.

His thoughts were interrupted when heavy footfalls fell against the concrete, and a heavily Scottish-accented voice yelled out “Cannonball!” A fraction of a second later, there was a loud splash, and the water – at least, that which hadn't exploded out of the pool, some of it coating Owen on the side and back – was rocking as though like a storm at the sea. A large, blurry pink shape moved underneath the cover of the choppy waters, only to be forced aside. A large, pink, tusked boar's head emerged. His head bristled with short, cropped brown hairs. His snout snorted out the water that had gotten into his nose, and he shivered, sending further ripples through the water. “You're Owen, right?” he asked, grabbing Vince's ass, causing the dog-man to yelp. 

“Yes,” Owen replied, laughing a little as Vince fell away from him and underneath the water's surface.

“Hi,” the boar-man greeted himself, offering his hand, “I'm Tom.” Owen noted the darker-than-normal fingernails on Tom's fat fingers. “How are you enjoying your trip? Pretty good, from what I can see!”

“Tom, you cunt,” Vince swore, “He can't swim well.”

“Well, I can, and you can,” Tom argued, “so he's not likely to drown. Not unless things get carried away!” His large hand quickly found its way down around Owen's hard, cold genitals; Tom must have had good circulation, because despite having been in the water his dirty hands were incredibly warm. “Vince, you dumb mutt, you're going to let his cock freeze off!”

“I was getting to that,” Vince grumbled, “but I figure he might want to get cleaned off first. I kind of made quite a mess on him.”

Owen felt slightly tingly: he knew he'd paid for this, but it was still kind of flattering to have two guys arguing over him.

“I can smell that,” Tom laughed, snuffling at Owen's chest. “Well, Owen, you don't mind being a little dirty, do you?”

“Not really,” Owen answered, “especially if I'm going to get dirtier anyway.”

They all laughed, Owen noting Tom sliding his other hand up the inside of Owen's cold leg. “Then why don't we get some other parts of you cleaned up and we can get you dirty again.”

“What did you have in mind?” Owen asked.

“I guess that depends on what Vince and you have already got up to?” Tom asked, turning his grinning face to the wet dog-man.

Vince grinned, paddling around in the shallow area of the pool, “We had a bit of doggy-style fun.”

“Top or bottom?” Tom asked.

“I was on top,” Owen interjected. As the pig- and dog-man turned to look at him, both sporting dirty grins, he added, “I've been kind of 'saving' myself for this trip.”

“Have you bottomed before?” Tom asked. “I know not everyone's into it, but it can be pretty nice. The only thing is, some of the other guys will stretch you out a fair bit, so you might want to do some preparation work if you want Quentin or Rowan sticking their dicks in you.”

“Yeah,” Owen said, clarifying, “well, I have some dildos that I've used.” Normally, Owen wouldn't talk about that kind of thing with complete strangers – hell, even with most of his friends – but he'd already fucked Vince; he couldn't really be a shrinking violet about it now.

“You've not had another guy in your ass before?” Tom inquired.

“It's really great,” Vince agreed.

Owen had enjoyed using the dildos: he hadn't really stretched his ass very much, only using the smaller ones, but they did feel nice and he'd gotten comfortable with using them. “No, but I guess I wouldn't mind trying,” he said, “but if we were going to do anything, I'd need to go slow.” He hadn't seen how big or thick Tom's cock was, but Vince's one was a lot bigger than the dildo he'd gotten up to using.

“Well, you'll get nobody better than me to help you out with that,” Tom boasted. “Vince, why don't you go get the spa ready? I think our guy here needs some warming up.” Vince nodded, pulling himself out of the pool; Owen couldn't help himself, and watched the border collie's lean back and ass appear out of the pool. He glanced at Tom, who had also been watching; noticing that he was being looked at, Tom winked at Owen. “And as for you,” Tom continued, “let's get to the basics: cleanliness and lubrication, and I don't think pool water's going to be the best thing for that.”

The boar winked and passed by Owen. Although his body was round, and he wasn't particularly toned, it was clear that Tom had a fair amount of muscle underneath. Bristly hair spilled down in a patch between his round, fatty pectorals, a line running down to the top of his sheath. Like Vince, he had nipple nubs in his abdominal area where his animal counterpart might have had them, but which was round and relatively smooth otherwise. Huge balls strained against the thin, hairless skin of his sack, hanging closely to the lower bits of his round, fleshy ass cheeks: Owen knew that was probably a pig thing, though of course his experience with pig-men wasn't always anatomically correct. A short, curly tail bobbed above the cheeks as they flexed and relaxed, walking off somewhere to get something. Tom had human feet, though they were strangely long and the toes were a malformed combination of human and porcine.

Vince joked, “Hurry back, Tom, I think Owen's got a taste for sausage.” Tom answered with a raised middle finger, pool water still dripping off of his naked body.

Owen got out of the pool: there didn't seem to be much reason to be in the cold water if nobody else was going to be in there. Vince had removed the covering of the spa pool, and was busy fiddling with some dials. The calm water slowly started to bubble.

“Tom's a pretty good guide when it comes to this thing,” Vince explained. “He gets most of our asses ready. Probably because he likes to eat them.”

Owen was slightly confused, before realising Vince probably wasn't using the word literally. He asked, “What about you? Do you have any, er, preferences?”

“Kinks, you mean?” Vince clarified. “Well,” he added, drawing the word out as he thought while closing the cover on the spa's control panel, “I do enjoy being a slut, for lack of a better term. You know, having a lot of guys fucking me, getting covered in cum, that kind of thing. I like having people tell me to do things to them.”

“That's interesting” Owen observed, joining Vince as he slipped into the spa. The water was pleasantly warm, exactly what he needed after being exposed to the cold water of the pool. Wisps of steam curled around in the air as the heat soaked into their bodies.

“I guess that's what is attractive to me about being a dog,” Vince elaborated, sliding over to Owen, laying on his chest as the water bubbled around them; Owen felt himself getting hard again. “Getting bossed around, learning exactly what gets a guy really going and helping him enjoying himself, it really does something for me.”

Tom returned, stalking from the house, the round bits of his body jiggling as he stepped. In either hand he carried some small tubes and what looked like an odd-shaped turkey-baster. “Ah, dog soup!” he joked, raising one of his hands to wave at them. “You haven't started without me, I hope.”

“We just got in,” offered Owen. He felt like he should stand up – he got that from his upbringing – but Vince had taken it upon himself to rock back and forward, tantalising his cock with the motion of the warm, bubbling water and the hairs rubbing up against him. It felt good, and he wasn't particularly keen to move.

“I'm just warming him up,” Vince added, raising his wet tail out of the water.

“Great,” Tom grinned; his hand hovered over Owen's tilted-up head; Owen raised his arm out of the water, the warm fluid dripping down his arm as his fingers touched against Tom's. The bottle – strawberry-flavoured lubricant – fell into his grip. “You don't need to go to the toilet, do you?” Tom asked.

“No,” Owen answered as he lowered the bottle of lube behind him and dropped it on the ground. He'd been incredibly nervous before he'd come out, and that had killed off his appetite.

Tom grinned, “Alright, but just the same, I'll get some warm water to wash you out a bit. Just in case. Then we'll get on to the real fun.” Heading towards the shower, Tom started whistling; if it was some actual song, Owen couldn't really tell what it was: it was either really difficult to whistle with a boar's snout, or Tom was tone-deaf.

Owen wrapped his hands around Vince's ass, moaning happily as his cock enjoyed being in the warm, bubbling water. “Did you do this earlier?” he asked; it was probably a little too late to be worrying about anal cleanliness, but the butterflies had returned to his stomach, and he needed to talk about something.

“Yeah, we all usually do it when someone's going to be coming” Vince reassured him, “and it doesn't hurt. The cleaning I mean; the other can be a bit painful if you're not used to it. But if you wanted to do anything with Quentin or Rowan, you're probably going to want to get a bit stretched out first.”

Behind his head, Owen could almost feel the blast of water as the faucet roared to life. Tom mumbled swears; but Owen ignored it and instead asked, “Who are Quentin and Rowan?”

Vince explained, “Quentin's the bull guy, and Rowan's the stallion. They've been here for a while, though there have been quite a few stallions apparently. I think they were doing some fence-work today.”

“Yeah, I saw them on the way in,” Owen stated, his cock remembering how exciting it had been to seeing real-life furries, and such hot ones.

Owen soon found a paw grasping at his shaft, as Vince commented knowingly, “Yeah, I'll bet you did.”

Owen flushed, and added, “Well, yeah, they're hot, but they also were the first furries I'd ever seen in real life, so-”

Tom interrupted them, splashing down into the spa and saying, “Talking about big dongs, are we?”

“I think Owen's all about any dongs at the moment,” Vince quipped. “He can be pretty shy, but we'll be breaking down those barriers pretty quickly.”

“Well, I need to show you my sick one,” Tom bragged, groping his crotch, “but right now I'm more interested in you. Specifically, your ass. Want to point it my way?”

The spa was deep enough that he couldn't get on to his hands and knees, so when Vince slid away from him, Owen stood up, turning around to point his ass at Tom's face, which quickly split into a grin. “Yeah, back that ass up,” Tom murmured. “Vince, mind helping me with this?”

Things became a bit awkward: Owen had to spread his legs quite far to stand on either side of Tom's wide body, and Vince had to squeeze through the gap in between, twisting around so his white belly was exposed. It wasn't the only thing exposed, Owen noted, seeing the red bulge laying in the wet, white fur, steam swirling off. At their prompting, he leant forwards, tilting his ass: Vince pulled apart his ass cheeks – he could tell it was him from the claws digging into his butt – and Tom working on the finer parts around his sphincter. Owen relaxed his ring, trying to use what he'd learned from playing around with dildos; the plastic, narrow end of the douche went in, and soon a warm rush of water was squirted inside him.

When Tom pulled it out, the water trickled down his legs. “There we go,” Tom grunted in satisfaction; something splatted into the spa's waters around his legs as Owen heard more shuffling, and then a wet squelch. He smelled the tiniest hint of strawberries, as something cold and slippery was applied around his ass.

As Vince squeezed his way out between Tom's belly and Owen's legs, Owen got a good look at the end of Tom's long shaft, which had emerged from the pink sheath. The head was oddly-swirled – something Owen had guessed, but was still kind of oddly curious about – and he found he was still staring at it as it extended out until Vince waved his paw in front of his face. “Huh?” Owen grunted in ignorance.

“Why don't you move forward a bit,” Vince suggested, grabbing on to Owen's arms as his hands rested on his knees for support. He let the border collie pull them up, wrapping them around his furry hips. The water sloshed around Owen's ankles as Tom slid up, grunting as his snout pressed into the ass in front of his face; the boar's tongue lapped along his taint, licking off a lot of the flavoured lubricant that he'd just squirted on. Tom was very good; Owen hardly noticed the tusks, and the tongue seemed to play just enough with his ring to make it open slightly. Tom was also prolific at producing saliva, as Owen felt what his ass and taint couldn't hold oozed down his inner thighs. Although they were slightly muffled, Owen could tell Tom was enjoying it; the boar's grunts of approval rumbled against his lower body, and he hear repeated wet splashes as he guessed Tom started jerking himself off.

He couldn't see that himself, however: Vince seemed just as eager to get things going for what would also be his round two. Having positioned Owen's hands at his waist, and his own hands gripping onto Owen's pectorals, the border collie's cock was nestled right into his face; if he hadn't closed his eyes, his vision would have been full of white, bulging dog-man fur. Vince smelled, of course, but Owen didn't mind. He opened his mouth, Vince's testicles sliding about as Owen licked his genitals. Owen tightened his grip, pushing Vince's crotch up against his face.

Tom's snout opened wide; his teeth rested again Owen as the boar's fingers pulled him open further, his tongue probing into Owen's butt. It wasn't something he'd have thought he'd enjoyed, and probably wouldn't care if it never happened to him again, but Owen didn't hate it and was glad to have had the experience. He really enjoyed Vince playing with his nipples with the tips of his rough fingertips; the had gotten hard under the relative coolness of the air, despite the steam rising up around him. He breathed in heavily, the smell of Vince's wet crotch filling his nostrils. The smell of sex was filling him up, driving him to go along with whatever plans Tom and Vince had for him.

He pulled his face up, slightly arching his back; Vince moved his hands off, helping Owen to guide his canine shaft into Owen's mouth as he lowered his lips. It tasted salty; Owen wondered if it was due to the pool water, or whether it was just Vince's juices. The strange canine tip ran along the roof of his mouth, Owen sliding his tongue along the throbbing underside. “You're pretty good at this,” Vince complimented him. Owen would have blushed if his heart wasn't busy pumping his blood down to his dick: he'd explicitly practised with the dildos he had before he came, just in case, so was used to having something very much like a cock in his mouth.

Owen's whole body went along with his head: his ass pushed back into Tom's open snout, the boar's tongue pushing deeper. Tom's tongue was thick, so it felt kind of pleasant, like a long, thick, flexible finger, wiggling around the well-lubricated butt-hole. Tom tongues Owen's ass for about half a minute more before he pulled back, breathing out and slapping Owen on the ass. Owen's lips smacked together as he stood up, Vince's cock spilling back out into the air as Tom noted, “Well, I don't think you're going to get any more lubed up down there than you are now.” Despite this, he squirted and added a bunch of lubricant to his hand, smearing more of the jelly around Owen's loosened ring. “Vince's probably a better one to start you off down there, fingers excluded,” Tom stated, “besides, I think I'd like you get a taste of pork sausage.”

Tom stood up; his shaft, long and thin and tipped with a corkscrew of flesh, slid in between Owen's legs, making Owen twitch a little. “Hey,” Vince protested, “I was enjoying that.”

“It's not what you want,” Tom reminded him. “I don't think Owen here would really appreciate me trying to push into him, and your cock's probably better-sized for that. Just don't knot in him, okay?”

“Fine,” Vince relented, “turn around then.”

It felt strange, and Owen wasn't sure whether to be annoyed or not. He really should have had more say in what was happening – he had paid to be here, after all – but these guys seemed to know what they were doing when it came to giving a guy a good time, and he was curious after all. Besides, he'd already gone too far to really back out now; not if he ever wanted to do it again. He twisted his feet around, his eyes turning from dog-man to pig-man, bending back over. He didn't have to bend over far for Tom: aroused, his shaft extended nearly as far as his nipples; or they would if he'd been thinner.

“Don't even think about deep-throating this thing,” Tom suggested, still pumping the base of his shaft as Owen took the tip of the pink corkscrew into his mouth. Immediately he tasted strawberries, though that didn't last long; Tom almost immediately deposited some pre-cum onto his tongue. “Oh fuck,” Tom grunted, “it's nice getting your tip in somewhere nice and hot, isn't it?”

“Mmhmm,” Owen agreed, slurping a little on the tip of Tom's cock. It was certainly interesting to weave his tongue around the strange twists of Tom's flesh.

While he worked Tom's shaft at one end, at the other, he winced a little – but only a little – as Vince pushed the tip of his shaft inside. It was now Owen who snorted, the steamy air coiling into disturbed patterns as Vince slowly forced himself in deeper. It hurt, of course, but Vince's cock was still slick from his saliva, and his ass with Tom's plus the lubricant. Owen, his mouth full, realised what a risk Tom was taking: he really hoped he wouldn't bite down on the boar's dick in pain.

“He's pretty tight,” Vince acknowledged, his voice was ragged with the heaviness of his breath. Owen felt as though the border collie's cock was going to slip out of his ass at any moment, the small thrusts regaining ground and slowly working its way deeper. Owen agreed with Tom; Vince's cock was shaped a lot better than his would have been for this kind of thing for someone relatively inexperienced. Although, he had to admit, having this strange shape sliding in and filling him up would have been an interesting experience to have.

“Not that tight once we're done with him,” Tom exclaimed, laughing. He had started thrusting into Owen's voice, snorting and grunting as his hand slammed against the end of his shaft. “Come on,” he argued, “at least give him a hand-job.”

“It's too slippery down here,” Vince complained in-between thrusts. “It's nice and tight, but I've got to be careful.”

Owen wasn't too sure why they were complaining; he was aroused, but not hard, and the pain was too distracting. Plus, it wasn't like he wasn't enjoying himself: he did like sucking on both Vince's and Tom's cock. Not that he wouldn't turn down a hand-job, of course, but he was having a good time.

“Ah!” Owen yelped; while Tom's boar-like penis was longer, Vince's was thicker and now it was pushing up against the level he'd gotten used to using dildos at home. He couldn't suck Tom's cock any more: he needed to grit his teeth to make it through.

Tom, however, didn't seem satisfied. “Oi, watch it Vince,” he warned. “That's enough stretching for now. Let me have a turn.”

“Fuck, not now,” Vince growled, “I'm fucking close.”

“You can knot in my ass,” Tom offered. “You're not doing a great job with Owen.”

“Could you maybe stop bitching at each other and get on with it?” Owen snapped; he wasn't sure what had pissed him off, but he didn't want to listen to these two bitch when he was getting close to… well, not to orgasming, but to something.

Tom and Vince stared at each other, looking somewhat abashed. “I'll do him,” Tom said, “you can knot in me, and I'll give our feisty boy here a good hand-job. Less claws, at least.”

Everyone seemed to agree on this plan. Owen braced himself against the edge of the pool; Tom then aimed his manhood at Owen's loosened hole, sliding in the tip and gently rubbing it back and forth to ease himself in. Vince seemed the most frustrated; Owen quickly learned they maybe should have done this later, as he now had the heavy weight of Tom pressing on his back, being jostled about by the addition weight as Vince, free from having to worry too much about things, jackhammered into Tom's ass seemingly as fast and as rough as he could manage it. Over his shoulder, Owen could hear Vince panting heavily, and a low hum – he guessed from Tom – as he tried to act like a buffer between Vince's cock and Owen's ass.

Tom's shaft felt different inside him. It stretched his innards much more, especially as the inches pushed deeper inside, and caused a lot less painful stretching on his ring as – aside from the curly bit at the end – the thickness was relatively uniform. True to his word, the boar took Owen's cock in his hand once he could reach it; with the other on Owen's shoulder for support, Tom tugged on the shaft.

“Fuck!” Tom yelled; Owen felt something wet hitting him on the back. The hand around his ass paused for a moment, and Owen noticed the rapid thrusting had quickly died down. Vince's audible breath slowed down as well.

The brief moment stopped, then Tom went back to his regular thrusts. Owen noticed he had a pretty tight grip; his own lubricants, spurred out of him by the constant rubbing on his prostate, were spilling out of his penis, which had quickly thickened into a hard erection. Keeping it up was a battle; Owen enjoyed that stimulation, but the stretching of his intestines by the long, thin shaft made him slightly queasy.

Owen felt dizzy from the steam coming out of the pool; his brain wondered how much of the pool was going to be left once they were done. His shaft was getting hard, and pretty leaky: the three-way had gone on longer than he usually went on his own, and his body seemed appreciative of the extra time. He made sure to remember this later on, when he had the time to indulge himself, or had someone else come over.

“I'm getting close,” Tom mentioned, “mind if I cum on your back?”

“Sure,” Owen panted.

Tom pulled out, leaving Owen with a strange empty feeling. The boar's meat slapped against his back. He'd exaggerated: it took Tom a couple of strokes to finish. But by god did he: Vince had produced a huge load, but what came out of Tom was like a gusher. His cock bounced against Owen's back, slapping against it as it poured out.

Tom, stimulated by his orgasm, repeatedly shouted, “Fuck!” Meanwhile, his grip tightened around Owen's shaft, rapidly bringing on the pace of his own ejaculation. The boar grabbed Owen by the wrist with his free hand; the masturbation paused while Tom got Owen to turn onto his back. It quickly became clear what Tom wanted to do: with Vince still locked into his ass, and his semen now bubbling up in the spa water from where his cock pulsed underwater, his snout opened as his hands aimed Owen's cock into his mouth. A finger wormed its way through Owen's stretched anus, pressing firmly through the intestinal wall where Owen's prostate was.

Owen had to keep some control of his body: it wasn't particularly comfortable to move too much on the hard edge of the spa, but as Tom worked him he had trouble not twitching uncontrollably. His breath was becoming ragged, the heat and musk of spilled semen filling his lungs as he gripped onto the edge of the spa. He could feel it, pulsing through his nether regions, his body quivering with the need to release his load like the other two were still doing.

Tilting his head back, he moaned as it happened; almost immediately, Tom clamped his mouth shut and sucked gently. The feeling was intense: Owen felt his legs clamp shut against the side of Tom's face, then release as the boar milked him dry. He yelped, his head accidentally knocking back against the cement; ignoring the small smarting pain that that produced.

Just when he thought it was over – unlike the other guys here, Owen didn't have a seemingly endless-supply of jism – Tom opened his cum-stained lips and squeezed out the last dregs from Owen's body as the intense euphoria started to abate, leaving him feeling tired but incredibly sated.

“I need more of this in my life,” Owen decided. No matter what it took – which, he knew, would probably be a great deal – he was going to stay at the “petting zoo”.