It’s almost quarter to one by the time Tau navigates the dark, tree-lined streets to lead Hartley home. The buck walks behind him, so close Tau can feel the quick flutter of Hartley’s breath ruffle the back of his mane. Tau’s tail is caught tight in Hartley’s hand, which encircles it where it exits Tau’s pants. The way his fingers are curled like that reminds Tau of their coupling last month—a hurried meeting then, Hartley on his knees before Tau in a cramped stall at the Byrd’s men’s room during a midnight showing of Rocky Horror, both their women in the crowded theatre watching the movie. Then Hartley’s hands had wrapped around the base of Tau’s c**k as the buck had worked the lion’s thick length, kneading and sucking, bringing him to release with nothing more than fingers and tongue and
