Don woke up, slightly hungover, in a bed that wasn’t his. The big lion turned to his side and groaned softly. The bed was messy but comfortable, and the sunlight seeping through the blinds gave the room a cozy glow.

“Rrr, fuckin’ hell,” he mumbled, pushing the edge of his muzzle into the pillow, legs kicking down the sheets from his lightly sweaty body. He laid there for a few minutes, slowly recalling the events of the night before. He was at Chance’s place. The pornstar shark and himself had gotten drunk and fucked like peasants. Chance had drained Don’s balls 2-3 times, and the straight lion had pretty much blacked out after that. The shark had likely slept on the couch, since the two males never shared a bed. For sleeping, that is.

The beefy, heavily tattooed feline finally sat up and swung his legs off the mattress, taking a few moments to get his head back into place. He mindlessly rubbed at his massive, pierced black cock, eyes shifting around to look at Chance’s bedroom. He almost never went at the shark’s place. Most of their interactions took place at his own apartment or tattoo parlor. This was perhaps the second time he had been here.

Lifting himself off the bed, the naked lion stroked one of his gruff mitt into his short-cut, bleached hair, looking around the room. It was decorated pretty nicely. The furniture was clean, and a few photos of Chance and his boyfriend hung on the wall, as well as some pictures of said boyfriend's family. A single picture displayed Chance posing with an older shark, presumably his dad.

Don picked up the frame, looking at the picture as he mindlessly scratched his six-pack, his paw instinctively closing around his semihard morning wood. He then shook his head and placed the picture back down. "Ugh, what the fuck," he mumbled to himself.

He finally found his phone in the pocket of his discarded jeans, checking out the time. Barely 9 o'clock. Chance, and everyone with a modicum of sense, would still be asleep. Don flipped to his Facebook feed, gave up after 10 seconds and sighed. He was not used to being up so early.

Making his way to the shark's closet, a bit of curiosity stung the big cat and he slid the door open. He found mostly jeans and outdoorsy type clothes, pretty neatly put together. The lion pulled a drawer open and stopped as he peeked inside. There were rows, literal rows of expensive underwear in there. At least 3 dozens of them.

Don was no fool. Chance was a pornstar, his boyfriend was a pornstar, of course they'd have these laying around. The lion never really paid much attention to the underwear he bought. Grey or black boxers, usually coming in packs of 3. He wore them until they pierced or became too loose. But these looked really good. A stunning array of colors, and barely any wear. Boxers, briefs, jocks, thongs, cupholders, and others Don didn't even have any words for.

He reached inside the drawer, carefully pulling out a yellow jock, labeled "Team Muscle". This was the studio where both aquatic studs worked, and where Don himself had done a couple of solo shots for a nice, fat paycheck."Pretty nice," he said, before lowering the jockstrap down, dipping one of his feet between the straps. He had a moment of hesitation: wasn't this kinda crass? The shark had licked his dick and balls plenty, but... Don shook the idea out of his head, proceeded, then hesitated again.

Wait. How does someone put this on? Where do the straps go? Dammit.

The dark-furred, tattooed lion stud finally managed to slip the jock in place, his fingers twisting the straps in place. He caught his reflection in the mirror, having a quick grin as the yellow fabric hugged his fat package rather deliciously. He didn't know how he felt about his ass being exposed, though. He stretched his arms out and took a few poses, looking at himself in the mirror. He was a pretty good-looking dude. Stripes told him his videos were a big hit, and that he could come back anytime for more reels.

Don was about to slip the jockstrap off when he grinned, stopping his motion. He then opened the bedroom door and wandered towards the living room. He was going to wake Chance up with a good teabag. Morning, fuckface.

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Art by tatsumichi