Disclaimer: This story is based mostly on the authors over-sexed imagination, (but partly on a couple of events in the authors RL) said author making no claims to logic, reality or any sense of normalcy.  It involves sexual relations between male characters (yes, this time more then 2).  It is intended for the personal enjoyment of adults over the age of majority in their region of residence.  Kids, ask your parents first.

© 2000, Blah, Blah, Blah, Ltd.  Fuck with it and I'll say bad things about you to God, the next time we talk in my head... so just don't ok?  Or ask first, at least?

Questions, comments and shameless begging for sex welcome.
E-mail!

“Hey guy, You pick a public washroom and I'll be there! Love to get sucked off in public places. I'm 33, 6'2", 190 lbs, Caucasian, good-looking, clean. Just tell me where and when.”

His last email had said:

“Monday night at 6:30 at the Mall sounds good. I know where the washroom you mentioned downstairs is. I could get there a little earlier, and be sitting in the stall with my pants around my ankles and stroking my cock. Just peek in the stall and knock on the door to let me know it's you, and I'll let you in.”

The washroom in question was down a small hallway, far off the beaten path of usual shoppers at 6:30, but was still open to the public. It was small, with only a single stall and a single urinal. I had scoped it out plenty in advance, and was now just waiting by a bench near the hall, looking casual and watching for him.

Right around 20 after, a man just casually wandered down the hall. Wasn’t much to look at by most folks standards, but I didn’t care. I like them average at best, as long as they were willing and able. I waited the agonizing 10 minutes, but nobody else left nor entered the hall. At exactly 6:30, I went to the washroom.

As I pushed open the door, I heard some rustling sounds, and looking across at the closed stall I saw slight movement under the divider. I paused and it came again, a brief glimpse of some orange and black thing twitching nervously. I stared at where it kept coming into view and realized it was a tail. Like on a tiger.

I was about to back out the door, and just let it close, when a face suddenly peered out at me from the space between stall divider and door. “Simon?” I heard it say. A golden yellow eye, white fur, orange fur...

I entered and let the door whisper closed behind me, before I realized that might be a bad idea. “Yes?” I said.

The face vanished as the stall lock slide free and the door swung part-way open by itself. I moved forward, needing to see what I wouldn’t believe. And there he sat, an anthro-tiger, straight out of an under-achieving furry fantasy. I say ‘under-achieving’, because he didn’t have the rippling muscles I was accustomed to seeing in art, or even seeing in human porn... If anything he had a slight gut showing under his partly-pulled up work shirt. He sat on the john, pants puddled around his ankles, his boxer shorts part way down his furry thighs, stroking his slick pink cock and waiting for a blow.

He looked at me, and then down at his meat, “What’s with you? Look like you’ve never seen one before.”

I blinked. Consciously closed my eyes and opened them again a instant later, as if expecting the vision to fade, to wake up in bed with a huge hard-on and wishing it wasn’t a dream. Nothing happened. Apparently this *wasn’t* a dream. ‘So I must be insane,’ I thought.

The tiger-man looked at me again, gesturing to draw attention to his cock. “Well?” He inquired, “You gonna suck it or are you just playing games? I can paw-off in the washroom at home, with my wife waiting to do her hair...”

I moved towards him like I was entranced, and took his cock from his hands (paws?!). I knelt before him and he leaned back, spreading his legs a bit more, watching me. I stroked the slick length, marveling at it’s apparent reality, then leaned forward and licked the pre from the glans. I placed one hand on his thigh, running my fingers through the fur there, and took him into my mouth. He gasped and it sounded like a growl, and I almost pulled off before realizing he had also began to purr. I could hear the rumble. My other hand fondled his balls inside their fuzzy sac, as I bobbed my head and tongued his shaft, not wanting to stroke him at the same time for fear he might cum too fast. I wanted to savour the experience of sucking my first fur’s cock, even though my mind retreated from the seeming impossibility of it.

The tiger-guy had other ideas though, as he reached down and began to pump himself rapidly, obviously trying to cum as soon as possible. I just held the head of his cock in my mouth and swirled my tongue around it, thrilled with the idea of being on my knees in a public washroom, giving head to a tiger-morph, and about to receive his spunk. Suddenly the first spurt filled my mouth, coating my tongue.

“Gods, yeah!” He yowled.

His balls were tight up against his body, so I rubbed underneath them as he fed me several more spurts before he was through. I swallowed. As soon as he was finished, he let go of his cock, and let me clean the last dredges from his member, which was already going limp. He just watched as I did it, with a kind of idle attention one might use on a dawdling child.

I stood up, still looking at him in complete fascination. He smiled as if he had just remembered he was supposed to or something. “Thanks, man,” He said.

“My pleasure,” I said numbly, “Really.” He packed himself back into his shorts, then stood and pulled up his pants, and made his way out of the washroom. I watched his tail disappear out of sight just seconds before the door thunked closed, fighting the urge to chase him down, ask who he was, how he had came to be...

I just stood there, eventually staring at myself in the mirror, the taste of his semen lingering in my mouth. I didn’t look insane. Not to myself, anyway. I left the washroom, and the hall, expecting things to be somehow different; perhaps everyone would be furs now or at least some of them. Nothing. No furs anywhere in sight, and tiger-boy had long since gone. Which didn’t improve my state of mind any.

Normally I’d enjoy the aftertaste as long as possible, but tonight I figured I needed caffeine. I went and got a strong coffee, drinking it slowly and running the experience over and over in my mind. It was like my most improbable fantasy had just come true, and I was to shell-shocked to even think about jerking off over it. Literally, like a fantasy come to life: he had used the term ‘paw-off’. Real people never use that term. Well, normal people anyway. So ran my thoughts that night. And eventually I went home, and I *did* paw off to the memory of tiger-guys slick pink cock spurting in my mouth. I pawed off a lot.