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His dick was poised and ready for action.  His partner lay ready and waiting, his rump spread, boypussy on display.  God, what a glorious sight. “You ready babe?” Jon Jafari asked his partner, a blue anthropomorphic raccoon by the name of Felix. Felix nodded, nervously.  Jon smiled. “Don’t be scared,” said Jon, pulling a bottle of lube out of the pocket of his jeans and applying a generous amount to his stiff appendage.  “I’ll be gentle.” Felix let out a low whine as Jon slowly penetrated the raccoon with his marvellous weapon, letting every inch slide gloriously in whilst holding his partner’s legs. “Was that gentle?” enquired Jon, looking Felix dead in the eyes. Again, Felix nodded, before asking Jon to fuck him so hard he couldn’t walk. Jon smiled at his fucktoy before withdrawing and slamming sharply into his ass. “That was NOT fucking gentle!” moaned the recipient as Jon pounded furiously into his behind. “I’m sorry, ok?” retorted Jon, his machine working against the raccoon’s tight ass. In, out, in, out.  Jon was clearly enjoying this.  It was obvious he’d done this before, probably with Arin Hanson. You had always wondered who was the bottom out of that relationship, and by Jon’s actions at this moment you could clearly guess. Felix’s own dick was stiff as a board, and Jon didn’t seem to care.  He was more interested in getting himself off via sex.  The raccoon reached forward and grabbed his own dick, and Jon whacked it away with such vigour that Felix was certain his wrist was broken. “Dude, what the fuck?” he cried as Jon continued thrusting into his tight boypussy. “I don’t want you to cum while we’re doing this,” came Jon’s panted reply.  “I’ll let you cum later.” Felix let out a disgruntled “oh” as Jon picked up the pace, grabbing onto Felix’s thighs and digging his nails into them. As Jon’s thrusts become more hurried and erratic, so did whatever the hell was coming out of his mouth.  He’d stopped speaking and just resorted to animalistic grunts and growls.  Looking directly into Felix’s eyes, he said the words the raccoon had both been dreading and been excited about. “I’m going to cum,” he spluttered, gripping hard onto Felix’s thighs and letting out a loud moan as he released his load into his partner’s ass.  Pulling out, he leaned forward and gave his partner a gentle kiss on the nose. “That was wonderful, Jon,” gushed Felix. “Thank you.” “No, thank you, for letting me do that,” came Jon’s reply.  “We’ve gotta do that more often.”

“Well, uh, this certainly has been an interesting week.” You were tidying up around the apartment you share with your friend Jon.  The sun shone through the window as you scrubbed the dirty dishes from last night’s dinner, its rays hitting the plates you were washing and making them glint and sparkle.  Jon would usually help you with the washing up, however today he had said to you he had other things to do.  You totally understood.  Jon was an internet celebrity and you completely understood that he had a schedule to stick to and other things to attend to.  Flicking a switch on the radio you kept in the kitchen, you smile as music fills the room.  Grabbing a tea towel from the back of a chair, you set about drying the dishes that you’d just washed. Suddenly, and without warning, you hear Jon shout from the other room. “Can you not do that (Y/N), I’m busy recording,” He sounds irritable and upset, a far cry from his usual chipper self.  Naturally, concern begins to envelope you as you switch off the radio and throw down the towel you were holding.  Making your way towards the sitting room, you hear him talking, his voice slightly panicked sounding. “Uh, I-I was in there under a lot of pressure that I'm not- used to being under, and uh, as it became clear, I SUCK at debate.” Standing next to the door, you realise exactly what it is he’s recording.  An apology. To try and clear up the allegedly insensitive poppycock he spouted recently in a supposed debate with another e-celebrity.  In your opinion, it wasn’t a debate – the asshole at the other end had basically taken over and had insulted Jon’s intelligence by constantly talking over him and riling him to the point where he’d gotten upset.  You’d been there to witness the entire damn thing.  Jon had said some slightly sketchy things, yes, but he hadn’t meant any of it.  You knew what he was like when he got frustrated and upset, and it wasn’t pretty. It broke your heart to see him upset. You hear the “click” of him switching his camera off and decide to make an appearance.  Opening the door, you walk into the room.  Jon spins around and looks at you, his usually jolly face completely serious and redder than usual. “Hey (Y/N),” he says, running a hand through his hair as you walk towards him.   You don’t acknowledge him.  You obviously want to, but don’t feel like it’s right. He’s upset.  Forcing him to converse with you when he has other things on his mind would just complicate the matter.  All you can do right now is walk over to him and embrace him.  He seems ok with that, for the minute you wrap your arms around him, he buries his head in your chest and exhales deeply.   “Are people online giving you gyp again, honey?” you ask, stroking his fluffy curls. He nods into your chest, and all you can do is sigh and shake your head. “I’m trying to record a video clearing shit up,” he says as he pulls his head away from your chest, arms still around your waist.  “I’m just worried it’s not going to sway anyone’s opinions about me.” You look down into his eyes.  He looks as if he’s about to cry, and this breaks your heart. “You know what, Jon?” you say, bending down to kiss his head. “What is it?” “No matter what happens, I’ll always be here for you.  I’ll always love you.  That’s what friends are for, right?” He smiles up at you, his big brown eyes sparkling. “Thanks, (Y/N).” “Don’t mention it, darling.”

Plop. A single tear rolled off your face and into the cold mug of coffee you were holding.  You’d been crying for God knows how long at this point.  Crying sucked.  You weren’t one hundred percent sure why you were sad, but damn, you wanted it to end soon. Sighing, you place the cup down on the floor and flop backwards onto the sofa, tears still streaking your face. Your thoughts were soon interrupted as you heard the front door to your apartment open and a voice shout out for you. Shit, you think to yourself as you wipe your eyes on the sleeve of your hoodie to try and make yourself look vaguely presentable. “(Y/N),” calls the voice, “which room are you in?” “I’m in the sitting room,” you reply as you hear heavy footsteps approaching the room you’re in. The door swings open and in swings your neighbour and best friend Jon, carrying a shopping bag full of snacks. “Hey (Y/N), are you ok?” he asks as he dumps his bag on the floor and plonks himself down on the sofa beside you. You look up at Jon, your face still damp from crying, and shake your head. Jon responds to this admission by hugging you tight and stroking your hair. “I’m sorry,” he says, holding you close. You bury your face in his chest, sobbing onto his t-shirt. “Hey, I know what’ll cheer you up!” You timidly look up at the older man as he pulls his phone out of the pocket of his jeans.   “I’ve got a photo to show you, (Y/N). Let me see if I can find it”. Flicking through his phone, a smile eventually forms on his face indicating that he’d found it. “Take a look at this!” he giggles, thrusting the phone in your face. Looking at the phone, you take in the sight on the screen.  It’s a photo of Jon, dressed up in a princess costume, with his two beloved pet conures perched on his shoulders.  You can’t help but laugh at the sight before your eyes. “What the fuck Jon?” you ask in between guffaws.  “Are you a fucking Disney Princess now?” “Great, isn’t it?” he smirks.  “I knew you’d like it!” You nod, clutching your stomach and giggling. “Took me ages to get Jacques to sit where I wanted him to.  Goddamn, I love my birds”. You stop laughing at look at him, smiling. You know how important Jon’s pets are to him.  They’re like his family. “You know something, (Y/N)?” he asked solemnly, putting his phone away. You shake your head. “You’re my friend.  But sometimes, friendships don’t last.  I’ve had friends leave me before for petty fucking reasons, but you know what?  I’ve always had my birds.  And I know they won’t abandon me.” Poor Jon, you think to yourself as he runs a hand through his hair. “Friendships may come and go, but pets are forever.” You nod, and smile at this statement. Now Jon’s the sad one, as your sadness had vanished the minute you saw that stupid picture on his phone. “So,” Jon spouts, suddenly snapping back to his usual, happy self.  “Movie night. What are we watching?”

Waking up horny was your least favourite feeling in the world.  Sure, you had Jon, your boyfriend, but sometimes he wanted to take care of his own horniness himself, which irritated you.  Rolling over in bed, you expected him to be in the bathroom jerking off, but were surprised to see him lying beside you, pyjama clad and snoring away like he didn’t give a shit. Great, you think to yourself, gently stroking his chest through his pyjama top to try and rouse him. He doesn’t respond. Shit, you think, your mood suddenly changing.  Goddamn.  You desperately craved his dick.  Badly, in fact.  Sure, you could get it any other time during the day, but right now your arousal had control of you and all you wanted was his beautiful erection filling you.  At the very least, you wanted him to wake up and pay you some attention. Your partner rolls over in bed to face you, and you snuggle into his chest, sighing happily. He’s so warm and comfy. That’s when you feel it.  His dick presses against your stomach and you bite your lip. Jesus fucking Christ. You scoot up so his crotch is level with yours and you press up against him.  You try your best not to make any sudden or awkward movements that might wake the poor man – after all, you kind of want him to wake in his own time.  And he’s soon awake, his big brown eyes squinting and trying to adjust to the light streaming through the curtains. “Morning sleepyhead,” you whisper, giving him a playful peck on the lips. “Ugh, (Y/N),” he grumbles, sleepily kissing your forehead.  “What time is it?” Checking your phone, you realise it’s 9 A.M. “I’ve got another hour before I head to work,” he says, an awkward smile slowly appearing on his face as he flings the duvet off the two of you. You look him in the eye as he slowly moves towards you, your lips crashing against each other as he tangles his fingers in your hair.  His tongue gently flickers past your lips, gently catching yours as he pulls you on top of him, his arms holding you close against him. As soon as you are on top of his chubby frame, you can most definitely feel his erection straining against his pyjama bottoms and rubbing softly against you.  Obviously there was two layers of fabric between you, but goddamn, you could feel it.  Pulling your shirt off, you begin to slowly grind against him, his member pressing against your sensitive area.  Jon instinctively reaches forward to grab your breasts as you lean forward, your lips colliding with his neck.  He whines softly underneath you as you gently nibble on his neck.   Damn it, he’s actually letting me do this for once. He was almost always the one doing it to you. You loved when he did it but often wished you could do it to him, because he had a deliciously pale neck and it honestly looked so inviting. Without warning, you gently slide off Jon’s body, your lips and teeth working at his neck all the while. “Don’t fucking leave a mark,” he whines. “I don’t want the makeup artist to quiz me on my love life again.” You exhale loudly through your nose as Jon says this, pulling away from his neck and resting your head on his chest. Trailing a hand down his torso, you gently rub his dick through his pyjama bottoms.  His pyjamas are damp from a combination of your arousal and his pre-cum, but that didn’t bother you in the slightest.  You just wanted to make your other half feel good.  You wanted him to go to work happy, knowing that you loved him and were willing to pleasure him sexually whenever he wanted it. Caressing his beautiful erection, you feel the chubby boy buck against your hand and you smile.   “How’s that, Jonnyboy?” you smirk as you continue to fondle him through his pyjamas. He responds by moaning, his big brown eyes closed in a mixture of arousal and excitement.  A hand comes around and grabs your buttocks, groping them to the rhythm of your strokes.  A lusty giggle floats out of your mouth and causes Jon to giggle in response as he continues to buck up into your grip. “Just stick your hands down there already!” he whimpers.  “Get my pyjamas off.” You laugh. “This isn’t funny (Y/N), I don’t wanna cum in my pyjamas!” You laugh again, shaking your head, speeding up your pumps as his hand snakes round to rub you through your pyjamas. At this point you don’t care if you don’t cum, you just want your lover to make a mess. Your wish is soon granted as Jon bucks against you on last time, screaming your name as he finishes.  You feel the liquid spill out the tip of his cock, flooding the front of his pyjamas.  Peeling his bottoms down, you take in the sight in front of you.  His now flaccid cock was lying there, all limp and surrounded by a puddle of his own juices. “Goddamn it,” he whines, looking down. You grin at him. “I’ll help you wash up,” you say, pinching his cheeks and kissing his soft nose. He instantly softens, and responds by kissing the tip of your nose and pulling you close for a cuddle. “Love you Jon.” “Love you too, (Y/N).  Love you too.”