Green Wolves' Locker Room Creampie Romance
by John FCCF Poseyabout 3 hours ago
•long read•hot intensityRedia stood in the quiet locker-room corridor of Saitama Stadium long after the last fans had left. The green wolf’s tall pointed ears twitched. His bright red Urawa jersey clung to his broad chest; white shorts sat low on his hips. He was supposed to be the rarely-seen “NEET” mascot, but tonight he had waited.
Friendia appeared around the corner, the glossy red ribbon between her matching green ears catching the fluorescent light. Her red polo was slightly open at the throat, white athletic skirt brushing the tops of her thighs. Cream muzzle, blue eyes framed by soft lashes, the same grass-green fur. She smiled the moment she saw him.
“You stayed,” she said, voice warm.
He closed the distance in two strides, cupped her face, and kissed her. Soft at first, then deeper, tongues sliding together. Her hands found the hem of his jersey and pushed it up; his found the zipper of her skirt and eased it down until the white fabric pooled at her ankles. She stepped out of it without breaking the kiss.
Redia’s cock was already hard, thick and heavy, the green sheath of fur framing the flushed, darker head. Friendia’s fingers wrapped around it, stroking slowly from base to tip, thumb circling the wet slit. He groaned into her mouth.
She dropped to her knees on the cool concrete. Both hands stroked him while she leaned in and licked a long, slow stripe up the underside of his cock. Then she took the head between her lips, tongue swirling, and sank down. Wet heat, pressure, the soft vibration of a pleased hum. Redia’s hips jerked; one big green hand settled carefully on the back of her head, not forcing, just holding. She took him deeper, cheeks hollowed, saliva slicking the shaft, until her nose brushed the soft fur at his base. She stayed there a moment, throat working, then pulled back with a wet pop and looked up at him, eyes half-lidded, lips shiny.
“Your turn,” he growled, voice rough.
He lifted her easily, set her on the narrow bench, and pushed her thighs apart. The cream fur of her lower belly gave way to a soft, flushed pink pussy, already glistening. Redia knelt, spread her with his thumbs, and dragged his tongue from her entrance up to her clit. She gasped, hips rolling. He licked again, slower, then sealed his mouth over her and sucked gently while two thick fingers slid inside. In and out, curling, while his tongue worked tight circles. Friendia’s fingers tangled in the fur of his head; her thighs trembled around his ears. She came with a sharp cry, pussy clenching around his fingers, wetness coating his muzzle.
He rose, cock bouncing, and lined himself up. The blunt head pressed against her entrance. Friendia locked her legs around his waist.
“Please.”
He pushed in slowly, inch by thick inch, until he was buried to the hilt. Both of them groaned. He stayed still for a heartbeat, feeling her flutter around him, then began to move—long, deep strokes that dragged almost all the way out before sliding home again. The wet sound of cock in pussy filled the empty corridor. Her red polo was rucked up under her arms; his jersey was half-off. Green fur against green fur, cream muzzles brushing, blue eyes locked.
He shifted her hips higher, one hand under her lower back, changing the angle so every thrust rubbed the front wall of her pussy. Friendia’s moans grew louder, sharper. He fucked her harder, the bench creaking. She came a second time, walls gripping him rhythmically; the squeeze dragged him closer to the edge.
“Inside,” she whispered against his ear. “Fill me.”
Redia’s rhythm stuttered. He slammed in deep one last time and held, cock pulsing hard as he came. Thick ropes of cum flooded her pussy, overflowing around his shaft and dripping down onto the bench. He stayed buried, grinding through the aftershocks, until the last spurt left him. When he finally eased out, a creamy stream of creampie followed, sliding down the soft fur of her inner thighs.
They stayed tangled for a long minute, breathing hard, nuzzling. Friendia’s fingers traced lazy patterns on his chest. Redia pressed a softer kiss to the corner of her mouth, then lower, to the sensitive spot just under her ear.
Later they moved to the small sofa in the staff lounge, still mostly undressed. She rode him slowly this time, rolling her hips, taking every inch while he held her waist and watched her face. When she came again he followed, another heavy load painted deep inside her. They collapsed together afterward, green limbs tangled, red ribbon slightly askew, the scent of sex and stadium still hanging in the air.
Outside, the empty stands waited for the next match. Inside, the two adult mascots stayed wrapped around each other, quiet and close, until the first grey light of morning.
Friendia appeared around the corner, the glossy red ribbon between her matching green ears catching the fluorescent light. Her red polo was slightly open at the throat, white athletic skirt brushing the tops of her thighs. Cream muzzle, blue eyes framed by soft lashes, the same grass-green fur. She smiled the moment she saw him.
“You stayed,” she said, voice warm.
He closed the distance in two strides, cupped her face, and kissed her. Soft at first, then deeper, tongues sliding together. Her hands found the hem of his jersey and pushed it up; his found the zipper of her skirt and eased it down until the white fabric pooled at her ankles. She stepped out of it without breaking the kiss.
Redia’s cock was already hard, thick and heavy, the green sheath of fur framing the flushed, darker head. Friendia’s fingers wrapped around it, stroking slowly from base to tip, thumb circling the wet slit. He groaned into her mouth.
She dropped to her knees on the cool concrete. Both hands stroked him while she leaned in and licked a long, slow stripe up the underside of his cock. Then she took the head between her lips, tongue swirling, and sank down. Wet heat, pressure, the soft vibration of a pleased hum. Redia’s hips jerked; one big green hand settled carefully on the back of her head, not forcing, just holding. She took him deeper, cheeks hollowed, saliva slicking the shaft, until her nose brushed the soft fur at his base. She stayed there a moment, throat working, then pulled back with a wet pop and looked up at him, eyes half-lidded, lips shiny.
“Your turn,” he growled, voice rough.
He lifted her easily, set her on the narrow bench, and pushed her thighs apart. The cream fur of her lower belly gave way to a soft, flushed pink pussy, already glistening. Redia knelt, spread her with his thumbs, and dragged his tongue from her entrance up to her clit. She gasped, hips rolling. He licked again, slower, then sealed his mouth over her and sucked gently while two thick fingers slid inside. In and out, curling, while his tongue worked tight circles. Friendia’s fingers tangled in the fur of his head; her thighs trembled around his ears. She came with a sharp cry, pussy clenching around his fingers, wetness coating his muzzle.
He rose, cock bouncing, and lined himself up. The blunt head pressed against her entrance. Friendia locked her legs around his waist.
“Please.”
He pushed in slowly, inch by thick inch, until he was buried to the hilt. Both of them groaned. He stayed still for a heartbeat, feeling her flutter around him, then began to move—long, deep strokes that dragged almost all the way out before sliding home again. The wet sound of cock in pussy filled the empty corridor. Her red polo was rucked up under her arms; his jersey was half-off. Green fur against green fur, cream muzzles brushing, blue eyes locked.
He shifted her hips higher, one hand under her lower back, changing the angle so every thrust rubbed the front wall of her pussy. Friendia’s moans grew louder, sharper. He fucked her harder, the bench creaking. She came a second time, walls gripping him rhythmically; the squeeze dragged him closer to the edge.
“Inside,” she whispered against his ear. “Fill me.”
Redia’s rhythm stuttered. He slammed in deep one last time and held, cock pulsing hard as he came. Thick ropes of cum flooded her pussy, overflowing around his shaft and dripping down onto the bench. He stayed buried, grinding through the aftershocks, until the last spurt left him. When he finally eased out, a creamy stream of creampie followed, sliding down the soft fur of her inner thighs.
They stayed tangled for a long minute, breathing hard, nuzzling. Friendia’s fingers traced lazy patterns on his chest. Redia pressed a softer kiss to the corner of her mouth, then lower, to the sensitive spot just under her ear.
Later they moved to the small sofa in the staff lounge, still mostly undressed. She rode him slowly this time, rolling her hips, taking every inch while he held her waist and watched her face. When she came again he followed, another heavy load painted deep inside her. They collapsed together afterward, green limbs tangled, red ribbon slightly askew, the scent of sex and stadium still hanging in the air.
Outside, the empty stands waited for the next match. Inside, the two adult mascots stayed wrapped around each other, quiet and close, until the first grey light of morning.