Nick shuffled down the sidewalk of Saratoga Street, tail swishing low along the ground behind him while his eyes flicked across street numbers. 2234, 2236, 2238...

2240. This was the place, the home of the ursaring he’d encountered on the bus half a week ago. It hadn’t been easy to sneak off that bus afterwards, nor had it been easy to track down exactly where the bear lived. He’d had to do things he wasn’t exactly proud of to accomplish both of those tasks. Still, he’d done it, and now his reward was sitting right in front of him.

It wasn’t a particularly noteworthy house. It had the same beige siding as a dozen other buildings on the street, and the same immaculately trimmed lawn as any of its neighbours. The only thing that differentiated it at all was the deck, complete with a patio set neatly arranged on one side with an awning overhead to provide shade. That was how he’d confirmed the address: once he’d gotten the information, he’d... well, Nick didn’t want to call it spying, but he’d taken a peek at the house earlier without the owner seeing him. From a great distance. Binoculars may have been involved. Whatever the case, it had definitely the bear sitting on the deck.

Nick shuffled awkwardly on the sidewalk, shifting his weight from paw to paw as the hot concrete started to sting his paws. He was just wasting time now. There was a beaten looking pickup pulled into the driveway, which meant he was definitely home. Unless it belonged to a roommate or partner—though judging from the way Nick been accosted on the bus, he doubted that the bear was engaged in a relationship. Though the idea of having an affair with the ursaring did make the butterflies in his stomach flap that much harder.

Nick gave his head a shake. He’d dragged things out long enough. If he had any intention of going through with things rather than just standing around and slowly baking his paws, he needed to make a move. Taking a deep breath and marshalling his courage, he strutted forward with his head held high, moving from the sidewalk to the small gravel path leading up to the stairs of the deck. He made it all the way up to the front door before his newfound strength gave through and it started to strike him exactly what he was doing. Coasting along on pure inertia, he jammed the doorbell with a finger before jerking his paw back as if it’d burned him.

It was too late to go back now. Nick stood there, arm locking back into position at his side while his hands balled up into fists. There was a loud grunt from inside the house, followed by the thumping of approaching footsteps. The door flung open, revealing the ursaring standing behind it with a half-empty forty clutched in one hand.

“Yeah, yeah, whaddya want?” the ursaring asked, fixing Nick with a harsh, impatient glare that quickly gave way to recognition, followed by surprise. They stood there in silence for a moment, eyes locked, the ursaring still processing the situation he was in and Nick too paralyzed with anxiety to say a word.

The ursaring was the first to act, bringing his bottle up to his lips and throwing his head back, chugging its contents in a few solid gulps before letting it drop to the ground. He wiped his lips with the back of a hand, pulling it away from his face to reveal an enormous grin. “Please, come in,” he said, stepping off to the side and beckoning Nick in with a hand. Nick did so, shuffling in with his eyes glued to his feet in order to avoid the bear’s leer.

He cocked an ear at the sound of the door slamming shut behind him, only for it to go flat when the ursaring strode up beside him and hooked an arm around his shoulders without asking or even warning him, hugging Nick tight against his side. The strength in that arm was clear; he could feel the muscles of it pressing into his back, covered by a thin layer of fat. Not enough for the bear to look anywhere close to out of shape, of course. It was obvious that his size was matched pound for pound by power. It was just enough to make it clear that, as big and strong as he was, he wasn’t trying to win any bodybuilding contests—he was the spitting image of a working man.

And, Arceus, he smelled like a working man, too. With the heat wave that was sweeping the area, everyone was liable to sweat a little, but the bear took it to a whole ‘nother level. Nick could feel the salty tang of it seeping into his sinuses just from standing next to the ursaring, and moreover, wicking into his fur with every moment they spent in contact. His left shoulder was the worst of it, sandwiched between one of the bear’s pecs and the underside of his bicep, where it soaked in all the sweat that leaked down from his armpit. He could tell from that alone that he was going to spend the rest of the day smelling like a jockstrap.

Though judging from how things went last time, he was probably going to be smelling a whole lot worse than that by the end of things.

“I am so glad you came, boy,” the ursaring said, squeezing Nick’s shoulders tight while he took huge steps forward, forcing the braixen to shift into a half-jog just to keep from getting his feet dragged out from under him. “Was worried you might have some trouble finding me, but you’re a smart kid, looks like.”

“Heh, yeah,” Nick mumbled, still pointedly looking away from the bear and keeping his hands held limp in front of his chest out of uncertainty of what to do with them.

The ursaring’s long strides meant it didn’t take long before they reached where they were going. It looked like a living room, though that was a generous description. There wasn’t much to it except a couch, a huge CRT television that looked too big to even fit through the door, and a small coffee table between the two that was littered with empty bottles.

“Excuse the mess. I wasn’t expecting to have guests, and I do work up a thirst.”

“No problem,” Nick said, then made a move towards the couch. That arm around his shoulders clenched down as soon as he took his first step, bringing him right back to the bear’s side.

“Now, cool your jets a second,” the ursaring said, giving Nick’s shoulder a pat before finally releasing his grip. “Let me have a look at’cha.”

The ursaring walked around him in tight circles, eyes drinking in what his body had to offer: hips a touch wider than a typical male’s, with thighs to match. A black sheath lying under the splay of fur around his waist, already thick and plump with excitement. A big, bushy tail, containing the stick that no braixen worth his salt left home without.

Though the ursaring was less interested in his tail and more in what laid under it. With the bear standing behind him and out of his sight, Nick had no way of anticipating the hand that shot forward and grabbed a hold of one of his ass cheeks. He let out a yip of surprise, one that took on a distinctly higher note as those thick fingers started squeezing down, kneading the plush flesh there. The ursaring’s other hand joined in, grabbing his other asscheek before spreading them apart, exposing Nick’s tailhole to the cool air of the room.

But not for long. “You’ve got a nice ass, boy,” the ursaring said, stepping closer to Nick until he could feel something warm press under his tail. The bear was only partially erect, but his cock twitched and grew larger with each second it spent pressed against Nick’s asshole, teasing him with the idea of going further. The mood was infectious: the idea of having the bear just pick him up and fuck him right then and there had Nick burning hot, even by fire type standards, and his body was responding to it.

That fact hadn’t escaped the ursaring’s attention. An arm reached around Nick’s side, hand making a beeline for his crotch where it groped blindly for his sheath. When he found it, he was greeted to the feeling of slick flesh and a smear of pre across his palm, an inch of the braixen’s cock already slipped free from his sheath. “You’re a warm little thing,” the ursaring said, continuing to grind against Nick’s ass while his hand squeezed and rolled his sheath between its fingers, coaxing out the rest of his dick inch by inch.

He’d only gotten halfway out of his sheath when the ursaring took a step back, pulling his hand away from Nick’s cock and removing that wonderful pressure from his tailhole. Nick didn’t have time to whine in disappointment before those big hands clamped down on his shoulders and spun him around. The sight of the bear towering over him stunned him into an almost reverential silence.

The ursaring gestured down with his head, so Nick’s eyes followed and were rewarded by the sight of the bear’s hand wrapped around the base of his cock, squeezing it lightly.

It was still only half-hard, but even that was more than enough to impress. He must’ve been a shower—if he were a grower, then he’d be liable to give a mudsdale a run for its money.

“Get busy,” the ursaring said, giving his cock one last stroke from base to tip before releasing it. Nick didn’t have to be told twice, but he wasn’t given a second to get onto his knees before the bear’s hands were doing it for him, grabbing his shoulders and pushing him down onto the floor until the braixen’s snout was level with his manhood.

What was even happening? Not five minutes ago he was walking down the sidewalk, and now here he was with his snout practically buried in some old bear’s lap. The whole thing gave him a striking feeling of déjà vu, a beat-for-beat repeat what’d happened last time on the bus. It was as if the ursaring thought he could do whatever he wanted to Nick and he’d just sit there and take it.

Which was completely accurate. With his nose practically butting up against the ursaring’s hardening cock, Nick was treated to a whole new level of musk. There was still that same muggy scent of sweat, but now it was mixed with another smell, one that he was already intimately familiar with. Something spicy that seeped into his nostrils and sat there, like it had weight to it, tingling and burning in his sinuses.

It was the scent of the ursaring’s dick, and all the sweat it’d been stewing in throughout the day. Even though he’d come all this way in search of it, he didn’t realise how much he’d truly needed it until he was sucking back lungfuls of it.

“Hey, how about some touching?” the ursaring said, with a slight note of impatience.

“O-oh, sure,” Nick said, reaching forward and gently cupping the ursaring’s balls with one hand while wrapping the fingers of his other around his shaft.

Just touching it was enough to bring memories of last time rushing to the forefront of his mind. The slightly greasy feeling of his cock. The way his foreskin tugged back over the head of his dick whenever his hand moved towards the base of it, then bunched up when he brought it back. The feeling of moisture against his fingers, which he quickly realised was from droplets of precum rolling down and smearing against his hand, coaxed free from the slightest touch. The bear was exactly as he’d remembered him, a walking monument to male fertility. It was obvious from a glance, palpable from a touch, and burning into his nose and mouth from all the trapped musk Nick had kicked up by touching him.

Nick’s head was trapped in a fog of sweat, body odour, and the cloyingly masculine aroma drifting off of the ursaring’s dick. The smell seeped up through his sinuses and into his brain, smothering him with pheromones until all he could think about was pleasing the male above him. Maybe then he’d have a chance at being under him for more than a handjob.

Dimly, he realised how desperate, horny, and downright lewd his behaviour was. Another realisation that came right on the heels of the first was the fact that he didn’t care.

“It ain’t made of glass,” the ursaring drawled, looking down at Nick with something far too close to boredom for his liking. “Would it kill ya to use your mouth?”

Nick’s heart flickered. A second after the words had left the bear’s mouth, he was pushing his snout forward, burying his nose into the mound of pubes surrounding the base of his cock. Some strange urge had risen up in him that demanded he satisfy the man above him as best he could, and cringed at the idea of not being good enough. The shift from this being something he was doing to satisfy his own desires to something he was doing to serve the bear’s was subtle, enough so that he hadn’t even registered it consciously. If someone had managed to pry his face out from between the ursaring’s thighs for long enough to ask him, he’d still no doubt say that he was doing this all to get himself off.

And maybe that was true, but he’d fail to realise that the part that was exciting him was less anything physical, but mental: his enjoyment sprang from the idea of pleasuring the ursaring. Or, to put it as crudely as the bear himself probably would, he was getting off from being a bitch.

It was an odd thing to come to terms with, which was why it was good that he was too distracted by the taste of the cock in his mouth to give it much thought.

He kept the head of it lodged inside his muzzle while his tongue licked around the bear’s shaft, lapping at every part of it he was able to reach, occasionally even going as far as to lap at his balls. That was where most of the sweat had accumulated, and he took special care to be as thorough as possible whenever he stretched that far, working them over as best he could until every drop of sweat there had been replaced with his slobber. The tang of salt and spice it filled his mouth with was addictive, so much so that he felt a pang of disappointment when he realised the bear’s sac was had been completely cleaned of it.

Though not for long, because he quickly realised he had a much better source of it between his lips already. Pulling back slightly, he drew his tongue back into his mouth before plunging it forward into the ring of the ursaring’s foreskin, sliding under it and across the spongy head of his cock. Judging from the pleasured rumble the bear gave off in response, he’d made the right move.

Which meant he wasted no time in pushing things forward. Nick ran his tongue across the glans of the dick in his mouth, collecting every last bit of slimy pre he could in the process. His mouth filled with the stuff until his taste buds tingled with it and drops were rolling past the seal of his lips and down his chin, but he kept going as best he could, swallowing and licking in equal measure. He was so focused on what he’d come to regard as his duty that he didn’t even notice that the bear had finally become fully erect, dick throbbing against his tongue.

But the ursaring certainly did, and as good as the tongue polishing felt, that meant it was time to take things a step further. He planted a hand on the back of the braixen’s head, holding him in place and keeping him from pulling off—theoretically, of course, since Nick seemed perfectly content where he was, though he did look up with a mix of confusion and interest.

“Come on,” the ursaring said, looking back down at him with a self-satisfied grin. “You had to know this was coming, didn’t you?”

While Nick was still processing the question, a few drops of fluid dribbled into his mouth, salty, bitter, and sour enough to make his face scrunch up. His first instinct was to try to pull away, but that hand held him firmly in place while that trickle grew in intensity until it’d become a full-on stream, blasting across the surface of his tongue and pooling in his cheeks.

He coughed, causing it to force its way past his lips and splatter down across his chest, as well as backflow up into his nose. The sensation was immensely uncomfortable, and although a quick snort ensured he could still breathe, it meant that all he could smell was now the sour-bitter mix of the ursaring’s piss. It was enough to overpower the bear’s natural musk, demanding the full attention of his nose and tongue while more continued to pump its way into his mouth.

The flow never seemed to ebb. Nick was quickly running out of room for it all, even with the little that he’d spit up onto himself. His cheeks had already been bulging with it, and now they were starting to strain. If he didn’t do something about it soon, it was going to force itself down one way or the other, a complete coin flip whether he was going to end up choking on it or soaking himself with it.

He had only the slightest moment of hesitation in making his choice. Taking a deep breath that was tinged with the saltiness of the piss streaming into his mouth, he swallowed, downing as much of what was filling his cheeks as he could in one solid gulp.

“There you go,” the ursaring sighed, fingers scratching gently behind his ears. “Yeah, you definitely knew this was gonna happen. But you came anyway.”

That hand moved away from Nick’s head, but he stayed where he was, keeping his face dutifully buried between the bear’s thighs even as his eyes watered from the seemingly endless stream of urine hosing into his mouth.

“Seems like you wanted this even more than I did. Right slut you are, getting off from drinking another man’s piss.” The ursaring let off a snort of laughter. “‘Another.’ As if.”

Nick would’ve let off a whine at the words were his mouth not occupied gulping down piss, just like the bear had said. Unlike last time, he was able to keep up with the flow without spilling any, if only just barely. It wasn’t that it was any less than last time—if anything, the way he could feel it sliding down his throat and sloshing around in his belly made it seem like there was even more of it than before—but more like he’d just gotten better at it. Grown into his role, so to speak.

He wasn’t sure whether to feel proud or ashamed at developing that particular skill. Whatever the case, the result was the same: his cock throbbed between his legs, knot all but swollen without even having laid a finger on it, purely from the joy of serving as a receptacle for the older bear’s waste.

“You don’t care about getting off, do ya? All you care about is sticking yer snout ‘tween my legs.”

Nick didn’t reply. A few seconds later, a hand grabbed his shoulder, shoving him onto his back and tugging his mouth off of that cock in the process. He let out a grunt as he spilled onto the floor, one that was replaced by spluttering as the stream that he’d been drinking from was suddenly splattering against his face, hosing down the front of his muzzle for a moment before moving to the top of his head. It hit him right between the ears, where it rolled down his forehead and along the curve of his snout, dripping off of his brow.

“Just the way I like it. Close yer eyes, now. Don’t wanna blind ya.”

Nick did as he was told and scrunched his eyes shut tight, just in time for the stream to move across them. It sprayed across his lips and nose, clogging his nostrils with urine. Thankfully, it didn’t linger there long, moving down along his neck towards his chest and allowing him to spring into a coughing fit as he attempted to clear his airway.

Once he’d finished hacking and snorting, Nick wiped his eyes clear with a paw and looked down at himself. The formerly white fur of his chest ruff was now tinted an off-yellow, soaked through with the bear’s piss. The rest of him wasn’t equally drenched; his entire front was dripping with it, fur sodden with wet warmth. It was pungent, too; even if it hadn’t already worked its way into his nostrils, Nick was sure it’d be all he was able to smell.

And the ursaring still wasn’t finished. Nick jerked up and let out a yip of surprise when he felt the stream take aim at somewhere quite a bit more sensitive than the rest of him. The bear’s piss was now splattering across the bottom of his shaft, fully erect and lying against his stomach in a puddle of what he’d already been soaked with. The stimulation, combined with everything else he was already experiencing, was far more effective than he’d ever thought something like this could be. He shuddered, letting out a slight sigh and leaning back onto his arms while that golden stream washed over his throbbing cock.

“Knew you’d like that,” the ursaring said, chuckling and adjusting his aim to spray across the braixen's balls, ensuring every bit of him was good and wet. "You're one sick li'l fox, aintcha?"

Nick could do nothing but whine in affirmation. He wanted to desperately to touch himself, to reach down and squeeze down hard on his knot while that stream of piss washed over him, but he didn't. Such a selfish form of pleasure seemed strangely inappropriate. No, if he was going to get off, he felt he needed to do it in a way that was productive, done in service to the one who'd helped him get this far.

So, once the last spurts of the ursaring’s piss squirted out across his tail, Nick acted on that feeling. He rolled onto his upper back and hitched his legs up in the air. Simultaneously, he grabbed his asscheeks with his hands, spreading them apart and presenting his tailhole to the bear towering over him. He let out a whine, higher and longer than the last one, a wordless request to be used.

The ursaring laughed again, this time sounding far more amused, and Nick couldn't help but feel the shame of begging to be fucked by the man who'd just showered him with piss. It did nothing to dissuade him, though—if anything, it only made Nick even more eager. He didn't move an inch while the ursaring laughed at him, his knot throbbing at the sight of the bear wringing the last drops of piss from his cock and flicking it onto his fur.

"Damn, you're eager," the ursaring said, working through the last of his chuckles. "Not this time, though."

Ignoring his bared ass, the ursaring walked around his supine form over to his front, standing with the braixen's head between his feet. Nick stared up, drinking in the view of the bear's balls and ass positioned directly over his face, his thick hand wrapped around an equally thick and meaty cock. He gripped it around the base and gave it a slow, rolling stroke to its tip. Instead of urine, he milked out a drop of something clear and a good deal thicker: a drop of pre, which he collected onto a finger before flicking it down onto Nick's face.

Almost instinctively, the braixen snapped out to catch it, managing to land it on his tongue. The distinctly masculine taste of sex was almost enough to push the taste of piss from his mouth, but not quite, instead turning the flavour of his mouth into a medley of everything the bear's cock had to offer. Nick smacked his lips, craving more of it, feeling a burning need to have it filling his cheeks and pouring down his throat. A drop of pre rolled down his own cock, ignored by both of them, wicking into the urine-soaked fur of his belly. The ursaring smirked.

“But feel free to finish yourself off if you really want to,” the ursaring said, kneeling down behind Nick’s head and aligning the head of his cock with his front of his muzzle.

Nick, seeing the way the tide was turning, let his jaw drop open for the bear to use. He took advantage of it immediately, shifting his hips forward and burying half of his dick into the braixen’s muzzle until Nick could feel the head of it butting against the entrance to his throat. His eyes rolled into the back of his head as his taste buds were revitalized by the flavour of the ursaring’s cock. The taste of something unwashed and greasy as his foreskin peeled back, the hints of piss still clinging to his urethra, the precum bubbling out of him and smearing across the surface of his tongue—it all hit him at once.

It was exactly what he’d wanted. Nick reached a shaky hand down between his legs, grabbing a hold of his cock just above the knot. Even that ginger touch made it jump, a wad of pre gushing out of him and rolling down his shaft onto his fingers. The idea of jerking himself off to completion with the ursaring buried balls deep in his muzzle was an appealing one, but Nick held off for the time being. He needed more. Instead, he started to suck as best he could, giving the bear’s glans a thorough tongue polishing as he did so.

The ursaring let out a happy growl from deep in his chest. “That feels nice,” he said. “See how long you’ll be able to keep it up.”

Before Nick could so much as wonder what the bear meant, he thrust forward, cramming his cock into the braixen’s maw until his balls slapped against his nose. Pubic fur tickled Nick’s nostrils, the sweat trapped within filling his sinuses with its salty musk. At the same time, that cockhead that had previously been pressing against his throat now slid inside it, spearing him until he could feel it bulging through his neck.

While Nick had by some miracle managed to suppress his gag reflex, he still found it quite difficult to breathe. His erection didn’t seem to care, though, throbbing and drooling another spurt of pre onto his belly at the feeling of having his muzzle so utterly packed full of the ursaring’s cock. His eyes fluttered, and when the bear did pull back enough for him to breathe, it took a few seconds for him to remember to do so.

“There’s your break,” the ursaring said. “You only get one.” Then, he slammed himself forward once more, again plugging Nick’s mouth and throat full of cock. This time, he didn’t wait before pulling back again, adopting a smooth rhythm of thrusting in and out of Nick’s muzzle.

Nick moaned, a sound muffled into near incomprehensibility as it filtered past the ursaring’s shaft. His cock throbbed between his legs, knot bulging as if he were the one getting blown even though he was hardly doing anything more than holding it. It just felt so... right, to let the bear do this to him. Like his proper place was with his face buried between his legs. He certainly made Nick’s blood boil harder than any other pokémon had, and he’d felt calmer after their run-in on the bus, too. In fact, the only times he’d masturbated since then, he’d been thinking about that encounter—and concocting new ones, fantasies about what the future could bring.

“I haven’t even told you my name, I don’t think,” the ursaring said, still thrusting in and out of his mouth. He reached forward and flicked a finger against Nick’s cock, chuckling at the way he yipped and drizzled even more precum onto himself in response. “You really that easy?”

Nick wasn’t in a suitable position to reply, but judging by the dick lodged in his muzzle, balls pressed against his nose, and his own dripping erection as a result of those things, the answer seemed rather easy to guess.

The bear snorted. “It’s Jack. Try to remember it, I’ll have you screaming it sooner or later.”

Jack’s hips suddenly doubled in speed, his dick thrusting in and out of Nick’s muzzle fast enough to send drops of precum and saliva flicking across his face. Every instroke brought those balls slapping against his nose, wafting a fresh blast of their musk into his head. It was clear that the bear was getting close, and it was only that which gave Nick the push he needed to start stroking his cock, already dangerously close to the edge just from holding himself. He wouldn’t have wanted to cum before Jack, after all. He wasn’t sure he’d ever be able to forgive himself.

Thankfully, he didn’t need to worry about that, because Jack was just as close as he was. With a deep growl, he slammed himself forward, pushing into Nick’s muzzle until the braixen’s lips were pressed up against his groin. Nick could feel the bear’s balls shift against his nose, pulling up against his body, and that on top of the powerful throbs the dick in his throat was letting off gave him some clue as to what was about to happen. Nick shifted his grip from his shaft down to his knot, squeezing down on it hard, sucking and swirling his tongue around the ursaring’s cock at the same time.

That did the trick. Jack let out a groan, and the moment Nick had been waiting for finally came; the first rope of the bear’s cum shot into him, travelling past his tongue and straight down his throat. That meant he didn’t get to taste it, which was a slight disappointment, but it was fine. The heat of it settling into his stomach and the knowledge that the ursaring’s seed was inside him was enough to satisfy him. 

While Jack unloaded into his throat, Nick was climbing towards his own peak. His knot swelled to its full size in the grip of his hand, easily doubling in size. Big enough to tie any mate—though he wasn’t doing that now, and he wasn’t sure he’d be doing it any time soon, if he continued down this path. The only thing he’d do with that bulbous knot of his was squeeze it while pawing off with his mouth buried in Jack’s lap, drinking down his piss and sucking him off once he’d gone dry. Maybe, if he were good enough, he’d be treated to the privilege of the bear deciding to make use of what he had under his tail.

That thought was enough to push him over the edge. Letting out a submissive whine around Jack’s cock, his dick throbbed violently in his paw, and then a jet of cum shot out of him and landed onto the fur of his chest. It was rare he ever shot that far, but when Jack was using him, his body seemed to hold nothing back. That was doubly proven when the next rope came, with just as much power and volume as the first. Then another, and another, until he’d painted his belly white and the entirety of the ursaring’s load was sitting heavy in his stomach.

Jack pulled himself out of Nick’s muzzle, his cock making a slight pop as the head popped free of the braixen’s lips. Nick immediately curled up on himself, coughing up the cum stuck in his throat onto his chest, where it joined the rest of his own seed clinging to tufts of his piss-soaked fur.

“Arceus, aren’t you a mess?” Jack said, standing over Nick and staring down at him. He reached out with a foot and stepped on the braixen’s cock, chuckling when he squeaked from the pressure on such a sensitive area and his hands flew down to protect himself.

“You can use the shower,” Jack said, retracting his paw and jerking a thumb in the direction of the hallway behind him. “Second door on the right. How’s next Friday sound for another meetup?”

“Ungh,” Nick groaned, pushing himself unsteadily to his feet. He could feel his legs shaking.

“Perfect,” Jack said. He walked back over to the couch and dropped down onto it, making the springs squeak in protest of his weight, then grabbed the TV remote. “Five P.M., sharp. Don’t be late.”

Nick nodded and let out an unintelligible murmur of agreement, leaning against the wall as he shuffled off to the bathroom. He was dripping all manner of fluids onto the floorboards, to say nothing of the puddle that’d formed beneath him in the living room, but Jack didn’t seem to care. That was good, because Nick was looking forward to doing this again. Maybe they could make this a weekly thing? Bi-weekly would be preferable. Daily?

He felt a twinge in his cock, only half-retracted into his sheath. Best to make that shower a cold one, Nick thought.