Whatever some people thought or said, Zack could tell when someone was not available to him.

Oh, he liked to keep his eyes open. And if he didn’t know, he was always willing to ask. Sometimes he got turned down, and that was all right; sometimes the turning-down was downright aggressive, and while he thought those people needed to not take it quite so seriously, he had no problem leaving them alone once he knew they were off-limits.

Sometimes, of course, he didn’t need to ask. Like that caracal, the one that had come in with Toni’s stripey roommate. Charlie. Zack had overheard him at the bar, turning down another guy with an easygoing “Thanks, but I’m straight.” Zack wasn’t stupid; he didn’t need to pester the guy himself just to get that confirmed firsthand.

But that didn’t mean he couldn’t dream a little.

It was a busy but uneventful shift; from the time that cat made his way out to the time the last chair was inverted on its table, the last bit of floor swept, and All Stripes was ready for the staff to go home, there wasn’t another chance for anyone to really catch Zack’s eye. Maybe that was why the dog still had some random straight guy stuck in his head.

Oh, if he hadn’t overheard that shutdown, Zack would’ve been happy enough to sneak off somewhere with the caracal. Or maybe to bring him home for a bit after work; Zack’s little bachelor suite was cozy enough for one, but he didn’t mind having company there for a few hours, now and then. It wasn’t just that nobody else had come into the picture; the guy had presence beyond his size, plenty of self-assurance – from what Zack had been able to see and hear, that was a guy who took some pains to know himself. He had not, for instance, needed to make a huge fuss about being straight, because he wasn’t afraid that might not be the case; he knew that he was.

Which was appealing enough to make Zack a bit wistful over what might have happened.

Maybe the cat would’ve joined him in the shower, helped rub all those places that were hard to reach, helped get the dog’s pure-white pelt nice and clean. Certainly Zack would’ve been eager to return the favour; it would’ve given him plenty of opportunity to feel that lean body under his fingers. Was he skinny, under that tee, or wiry, or compact and sturdy? Touch was always a great way to find out something like that…

Zack was panting by the time he finished rinsing off, but he didn’t quite feel like lingering in the shower today. No, tonight he wanted something a bit more… thorough. He dried himself damp and stepped out into the main room, towel haphazardly tucked around his waist; haphazardly enough for the rising length of his arousal to push into the open. He only held the thing in place long enough to make sure the blinds were closed, at which point he tossed the damn thing over the back of the couch. He smirked; all things considered, maybe he shouldn’t have bothered.

He swung by the entertainment centre, found a particularly juicy title from his collection, and slipped it into the player. While the usual official warnings were playing, he dug in the box he kept in the nightstand. A respectable black toy landed on the couch, followed by a bottle of lube; Zack turned and sat just as the main picture started running.

There wasn’t any fluff to this video; just a white billy goat and a brown buck rabbit kissing, hands running over each other’s bodies. Maybe it was staged, but they at least looked – and sounded – like they were into each other, and that was good enough to start.

Zack leaned back in the couch and watched through half-lidded eyes, fingers gliding along the underside of his shaft, coaxing it to full attention. Despite the need they were showing – be it simulated or genuine – the guys on screen were taking their time; feeling each other through their clothes, stroking over swelling bulges… that, too, was a nice way to be. Zack could picture himself and that caracal doing the same thing right here on this couch. Would the ridge in his pants make for a ready handful? A comfortably-hefty weight? Or would it threaten to spill into the open just from its own bulk? Probably, as with most guys, more toward the former.

Whatever the case, fishing a guy’s hard-on into the open never ceased to delight. It’d be a lovely bit of time – warm flesh under his fingers, maybe an answering grip around his own length, idly stroking with one hand apiece while muzzles met and their other hands roamed. No need to rush; better to take their time, get to know each other, find out where they were sensitive – ears like that caracal had, for instance, were probably just as sensitive as Zach’s own overgrown radar-dishes. And as the clothes came off, then Zack could get a feel for what they and fur concealed.

His imagination departed somewhat from the examples in front of him, though the lustful moans from both parties as the rabbit’s tongue slid over the goat’s shaft certainly helped his mood. Instead, he imagined laying the cat out face-up on the couch, straddling him, nuzzling his balls. Maybe the caracal would keep stroking him with one hand, probe under his tail with the other – the dog bucked up off his seat with a groan, shivering, at the thought. Yeah, that’d be nice.

He came back to the present enough to pick up the supplies he’d set out, dribbling lube over the toy’s surface and spreading it around. It was a little on the generous side, but not huge; seven inches long, with a girth that Zack’s ample experience classed as pretty average – not too thin, not too thick. The sort of thing he could break out with a partner and not be too worried that they’d object to. With someone else, he’d probably slide a rubber on, but then it’d be pretty straightforward.

His ears flicked back, as though that might help him “hear” the catch in the other man’s breath as the toy nudged under his balls – oh, that feeling he knew quite well indeed; was feeling it right then, in fact, though with the toy set on its flared base on the couch instead of held in an attentive hand. It’d spread a guy open just enough to be a pleasant stretch, and from there it slid in nice and easy, and went deep enough to hit all those nice places.

On screen, the actors were on their sides; the goat was licking over the rabbit’s cock and balls, while the buck had instead drawn the goat’s meat right into his mouth and was bobbing along it. Zack licked his lips. What he wouldn’t give for a good taste of cock right then. Having a guy licking and stroking him in turn – and squirming as Zack slid the toy back and forth – would be a damn sight better than sitting here by himself, bouncing on that same toy, bucking into his fist.

Just the thought of it sure helped spur things along. A few minutes of that, and Zack felt the familiar rush of orgasm sweep through him. It drove a heavy groan, almost a bellow, out of his lungs before he could rein it in; it kept him shivering, every slight motion making the toy nudge some pleasant place inside him; it sent sticky streamers spattering the white fur on his own arched body. All too soon, it was fading, and he sank against the back of the couch, gasping for breath as afterglow settled over him.

The guys on screen were just rearranging themselves, the rabbit covered up and ready to mount his partner, who had his legs tucked up and was grinning back. Zack fumbled around for the remote with his clean hand and shut it off. Once he’d had a few moments to settle down, he slid the toy out of him and set about cleaning up.

Not a bad performance for a guy that was only here in Zack’s imagination, really. It’d look good on him… but Zack was an adult; he could cope with not getting everything he wanted.

Besides, just thinking about the might-have-been was more than enough inspiration for one night.