Sleepover Surprise

Valentine’s Day was a rough time for Charlie growing up; all the other boys and girls had their share of roses and chocolates to give to their crushes and high school sweethearts. But Charlie, a closeted homosexual raised in a conservative Italian-American Catholic family, struggled. He got some roses and chocolates from girls here and there, which was flattering, but they served as an almost constant reminder of how he wouldn’t be able to give his crush a rose and not have it backfire. There were no openly gay kids at his school, and for good reason. The only kid at the school to ever come out was only known by myth, “Frankie the Faggot”, his spot his yearbook was labeled just with his first name, as no one in the yearbook committee knew anything else about him. Once he was outed, he was bullied non-stop. One day he just stopped coming to school, and no one knows what happened to him. He had no photo in the yearbook and didn’t show up when his name was called during graduation; he just disappeared off the face of the Earth.

Legend has it that he was killed by one of the jocks that he was outed as having a crush on. This all happened long before Charlie enrolled, though, in the 1980s, back when discrimination against the LGBTQ community was at its all-time high.

That didn’t mean that the 2000s were any better, though.

Charlie wasn’t afraid of being judged; he was his own worst critic. He wasn’t afraid of being shoved around by homophobic jocks who were more than likely afraid of their own desires, nor was he afraid of getting a nickname like “Cocksucker Charlie”. That type of stuff he could handle.

The thing that he was most afraid of was ending up alone, forgotten, with no last name in the year book; it scared him even more than death itself.

The older he got, the braver he became when it came to rolling the dice with boys he liked, and by the time he was a senior in high school, he’d rolled that dice five whole times, hitting a d20 just once.

College was better, as he moved out of the big city to a small college town where boys and girls could all be queens every single day. Much to his father’s dismay, the mouse enrolled in one of those “libtard colleges”, Ivy Legaue, yes, but full of that “woke” ideology that he was convinced was ruining America.

But even in a relatively homo-friendly environment, the guessing game based on context clues and his own gaydar was daunting. The hot guys were straight, the openly gay guys were bottoms just like Charlie was. Put two tops in a room together and they end up as good friends, put two bottoms in a room together and you had nothing – there was no greater mismatch than a bottom and another bottom, like polka dot socks with any sort of formal wear; cute, but in no way a match.

That’s when Charlie discovered the third letter in the acronym for his people; B.

Bisexuals.

---

“Charliieeeeeeeee!” shouted one of his girlfriends as she ran from the entrance of the library to the table where the mouse was sitting with a stack of books and his Apple laptop. He was startled by how loud the shout was and almost dropped the pen that he was twiddling and twirling in between his fingers. He went wide-eyed and looked around nervously as the Harlequin rabbit dressed in Daisy Duke jean shorts, an off-the-shoulder pink top, and sunglasses on the top of her head came running toward him at a speed he had never seen her do before. He was worried that the librarian who was always mean-mugging him was going to show up and kick him out.

He was 100% sure that the greyed German Shepherd who kept the university’s library running smooth was either confused by what gender he was, since he was dressed head-to-toe in feminine attire, but his student ID, which he used to gain access to the library and check out books, mentioned he was male, or a major homophobe. There was a slight possibility that she was one of those women who were extremely into femboys, didn’t know how to feel about their new sexual discovery, and took it out on him by being mean to him for no reason.

The coast was clear for now, as she was nowhere to be seen. A shame, too, since Charlie thought his outfit was extra cute today and figured she would have enjoyed seeing him in a plaid miniskirt.

“Charrrrrrrrrliiiiiiiiiiiiiiieeeeeeeee, girl,” the bunny pulled out a chair across from the mouse and sat down without even asking if the seat had been taken. She pushed some of Charlie’s books out of the way as she put her elbows on the table and put her face in both of her hands. She stared at the mouse with a certain look on her face, one where it was oh-so-clear that she had something on her mind but was holding it back for dramatic effect.

Charlie looked at Ashley, the harlequin rabbit with an annoyed expression on his face as she shoved his notebooks out of the way. He stopped twirling the pen in his hand and tried his best to keep his resting bitch face under control. He forced a small smile and let out a sigh.

“What do you want, Ashley?” the rodent said through grit teeth, put his pen down, brought his elbows up onto the table to lean on them. It was never a quick stop to say hello when it was Ashley, she always had something to talk about, even when there was nothing going on in the world, so the mouse just had to get comfortable.

“Are you coming to my sleepover tomorrow night?” the bunny girl said with a smile and fluttered her eyelids at him. Her short cotton ball tail wiggled behind her as she excitedly waited for an answer.

Charlie really did try his best to keep his face from showing how much he would prefer Ashley to go away, his mandatory accounting course was fucking him in the ass so hard and he needed to get good grades on the upcoming midterm to pass. Normally, the mouse was a huge fan of getting anally wrecked, but when it was by Mrs. Funkhowser? No thanks, not even if she had a foot long horse cock strap-on.

“That’s still happening? You know you’re like 22, right? I haven’t been to a sleepover since I was 13.” Charlie replied with an eyeroll and redirected his gaze from the lop gal to his notes about credit and debit transactions. Just staring at the vast rainbow vomit of colors created by his highlighter usage on the graphing paper that he used to take his notes made him want to gouge his eyes out, so his gaze was relatively quick to return to Ashley’s, even if begrudgingly.

Charlie and Ashley were good friends, gal pals, and the animosity that they playfully felt for one another was just their thing. It was probably a toxic friendship, but it was a fun one. They had their fights over petty shit (mostly boys) but they weren’t enemies, Ashley just got on his nerves whenever she disturbed his study time with things so inconsequential like a sleepover.

“Oh, shut up, it’s something FUN. I want to do something FUN. My parents are going up to the Hamptons, so we’ll have the house all to ourselves. We’ll drink, have some good food, play some fun games!” Ashley smiled at Charlie so wide that it made the mouse look like an ass for looking so annoyed at her.

The cheese-lover thought about it and brought a hand to play with his hair that was tied up in a neat ponytail. He crossed his legs under the table and his fat mouse tail tip flickered as he tried to think of the softest and kindest way to decline. His midterm was on Monday, which was just three days away and he still had seven more chapters to get into his brain so he could avoid being Fuckhowsered. He bit on his lower lip as he thought and scraped off some of his pink cherry lip gloss from it in the process.

“I meeeeeeaaaaaan, I have accounting to study for, I am already way behind. If I don’t ass this exam Mrs. Funkhowser has me bent over with my pants down my ankles and my pussy out for another year. Sorry, Ash, I don’t think I can go.” Charlie pursed his lips into a pout and looked at Ashely, hoping she would understand and not try to guilt trip him. She was the type to do that.  

To the mouse’s surprise, Ashley did not appear to be bothered by the mouse shooting down her invitation. Instead, she shrugged her shoulders and blew a raspberry as if she already expected that to be his answer. “Oh, well, that’s a shame… I guess I’ll have to invite someone else then, because there’s four bedrooms and seven of us going… Someone who can room with Finnick,” the rabbit’s ears, which had been high above her head the whole time, slowly drooped down until they hung down with her locks of hair. She then looked up toward the library’s high ceiling and pretended to think about who she could invite instead of Charlie.

Charlie’s satellite dish ears flickered at the mention of Finnick, the college’s superstar soccer player zebra boy that he had a mad crush on. It didn’t take him long to reconsider his answer once he heard that he was going to be there and that he would be rooming with him. “You know what, a sleepover sounds fun! I guess I can study on Saturday and Sunday hahaha!” His face flushed a hot red, almost like the coils on the inside of an oven. He smiled at Ashley to try and hide it, but it was fruitless, as she knew how much the mouse was into that striped footballer fella.

“Great!” Ashley shouted and slapped the table with her hand, garnering the attention of every other student within earshot of how loud she was being. The Harlequin rabbit then leaned over the table to bring her face closer to Charlie’s, grinned wide, and whispered; “See you at the party then, Charlie. Don’t forget to bring equine condoms, eh? I hear he has a huge dick.”

---

Charlie’s crush on Finnick was stronger than the force of a hydraulic press; it was the kind of crush where you fantasized about marrying someone and envisioned your suburban life together. A nice house, kids, and a big back yard with a pool; that kind of stuff. The hurtful reality was that Charlie barely knew the man of his dreams and the man of his dreams barely knew him. Their paths had crossed before, a few times actually, enough for the jock to remember that the strawberry milk colored mouse’s name was Charlie.

The sleepover was a blast, Charlie, his gal pals, and a handful of guys watched movies, ate junk food, and played games all night long. Whether it was Mean Girls, or Truth of Dare, the sleepover was full of unforgettable moments, from Charlie and Ashley following along with Regina George’s dialogue word-for-word, to watching as two of the straight soccer team boys get dared to kiss each other. Unfortunately, and fortunately at the same time, neither of the dare-ee’s were Finnick – on one hand, he would have loved to see the zebra boy do something gay, but on the other hand he would have hated it if the zebra kissed a guy that wasn’t him.

As the gals and guys in the rich rabbit’s mansion of a house got tipsy throughout the night, Charlie found himself staring at Finnick, who spent the majority of the night sitting across from him. His amber eyes wandered to places where they shouldn’t have. He got away with most of his eye-fucking, but closer to the end of the night, he stared right at the zebra’s loose basketball shorts that he wore as pajamas. The way he was sitting with one leg up and one leg down made it so that his large, black, and leathery ball sack peeked out to say hello. Charlie went wide eyed when he saw them and how big they were. He was sat a good three feet away from Finnick, and even from there he was able to tell that they were the size of lemons, LEMONS.

The zebra must have noticed the mouse staring and twirling his locks as after a few seconds he brought a hand down to readjust his shorts and tuck his balls back into the leg hole that they rolled out of. Once Charlie spotted Finnick’s hand in his field of vision, he panicked and his eyes darted up to the zebra’s face. His face went red and he felt like his heart was about to explode. He had no idea how he was to defend himself if the zebra took offense to him ogling him. Was this the day where he got his ass handed to him? His first time being on the receiving end of a more violent hate crime? He froze; eyes locked to the zebra’s as saliva built up in his mouth.

‘Glp.’ He swallowed.

To his surprise, Finnick wasn’t offended by his stare – instead of the fiery eyes and a soured expression, the mouse caught a glimpse of the zebra giving him a wink and casually turning his attention back to the game of Spin the Bottle that the group had moved onto. The wink from Finnick made the fat-tailed rodent embarrassed; his cheeks became hotter and redder and he turned his attention to the empty glass beer bottle that was the centerpiece of the game and waited for whoever’s turn it was to give it a spin.

The hand that reached for the bottle was the same one that appeared in Charlie’s field of vision to adjust the free-balling basketball shorts; it was Finnick’s turn to spin.

Charlie’s heart thumped in his chest as he watched the bottle spin around and around, the bottle’s neck passing him by over and over as it slowed down. He couldn’t breathe; he wanted the bottle to stop in his direction so bad that he could taste the zebra’s lips already. But as the bottle came to a stop, the butt of the bottle faced Charlie and the bottleneck found its way to one of the other girls that Charlie only knew by name; Cassie.

Charlie already hated her – that lucky bitch.

---

The game of spin the bottle went on for two hours – when the clock struck three hours past midnight, the circle was full of yawns and drowsy eyes. Eventually, everyone just gave up and went to their assigned bedrooms to call it for the night.

Charlie was assigned a room with Finnick, thanks to the generous dick-assist from Ashely. The mouse assumed that there would be two separate beds, but when he opened up the door with Finnick behind him, they saw a large king-sized bed, no couch, cuck chair, or any type of furniture that could have been used as a second bed. The mouse went wide-eyed and turned to look at Finnick, who didn’t really seem bothered by the fact that there was just one bed. Since they had all been drinking for most of the night, Charlie assumed that he was a little slow because he was drunk. He stopped once he took two steps into the room and Finnick bumped into him from behind.

“Oh, shi-. Everything alright?” Finnick said after he bumped into the mouse. He gently placed his hands on Charlie’s shoulders to keep him from stumbling forward from the force of his bump.

Charlie, absolutely melted into the large zebra’s hands as those big, strong, and muscular fingers gripped onto him. He felt a tingle in his loins just from the innocent touch. He could feel how strong he was just from him gently holding his shoulders, and he wanted to feel more. The mouse was so hot and bothered that he was just about ready to bend over and offer himself to him, but he had to contain himself. Finnick was straight as an arrow, there was no way that he would give Charlie the light of day.

“Y-Yeah!” Charlie nodded. “There’s just one bed, and two of us, haha…”

Finnick looked at the bed and furrowed his brows. He then rubbed the back of his head and chuckled. “Oh… Yeah… One bed…” Before he was able to say anything else, Charlie looked down at the carpeted floor at his feet and came up with a compromise.

“You take the bed, I can take the floor, can’t have you injuring yourself mister star footballer.” He said with a smile.

Finnick was not only hot, hunky, and allegedly well-endowed, but he was a gentleman, too. When he heard Charlie offer to sleep on the floor so he could take the bed and preserve his athletic health, he shook his head and let go of the cute mouse’s shoulders. He then sat down on the floor to secure his place so that the mouse could not protest. “What kind of a gentleman would I be if I let you do that?”

Charlie turned around and watched as the zebra sat down on the floor and shook his head, too. He reached his hands out in front of him, grabbed Finnick’s hands, and tried to pull him back onto his feet. “No! Hey! I already called dibs on the floor, you get up and take the bed.” Charlie put all of his weight into trying to pull the zebra up from the floor, but was unsuccessful.

Finnick watched him, laughed, and got up onto his feet after chuckling through the mouse’s struggle for about ten seconds. “Okay, okay.” The striped equine let out a soft grunt as he stood up and dusted his hands together. Once he was fully back on his hooves, he looked down at the shorter mouse and smiled. “How about this…”

“We share the bed, I promise I’ll stay on my side and turn my back to you so my morning wood goes the other way.” The zebra’s smile was so genuine and sweet, with no hint to any hidden agenda behind his herbivore pearly whites. Charlie could only keep his obvious crush on the zebra hidden for so long. His cheeks were so red that he looked like the outer wax on a Babybel snack cheese.

“O-Oh, okay.” Charlie replied.

Finnick smiled wide, grabbed the hem of his loosely-fitting t-shirt, and peeled it off of himself. He did the incredibly male thing and carelessly tossed it to the floor before he took steps toward the mouse with a smile.

Charlie could not stop staring at the zebra as he peeled the cotton t-shirt from his upper half. The mouse had seen him shirtless before – taking off your shirt in public was almost a rite of passage for any male athlete. But those times, Charlie was nowhere near as close to the zebra like he was now. He saw every little short strand of fur on his well-defined pecs, his abs, and his v-shape. His heart went wild, thumping in his chest like a Tanggu drum during Lunar New Year celebrations in China. Blood pumped from the valves in his heart, through his veins, and straight to his dick, which he had somehow tucked away to keep up his feminine appearance. Before Finnick noticed the mouse staring at him like he was a piece of meat again, Charlie turned away and walked over to the bed to get himself ready for sleep, too. He stopped right at the edge of the bed and was just about to climb onto it, but froze suddenly when he felt a familiar pair of hands land on his waist, followed by a warmth from body-to-body contact.

Finnick had come up behind the mouse, slid his hands over his waist, and closed the gap in between them. He pressed his hips into the mouse, his free-balling sheath and balls brushing right underneath the mouse’s tail. The equine let out a murmur and squeezed Charlie’s hips in a way that screamed “You’re mine”.

There was no way Charlie was going to stop his monster hog of a dick from getting hard now.

Charlie was too stunned to speak, for a moment after the zebra’s hands landed on him his heart stopped and he stopped breathing. It was as if his brain short circuited. His heart resumed its frantic beating first, and then he started breathing again. He was a million percent sure that Finnick would have been able to feel his heartbeat and knew that what he was doing was driving him crazy.

Of course, he knew exactly what he was doing, not all jocks were dumb.

Finnick didn’t gyrate his hips or move at all and just kept his sheathed dick pressed up against the mouse’s cake. He took a bit of a gamble with what he did, but judging by how the mouse stopped breathing for a moment and did not try to get away from him, it was paying off. With a smirk that crept into the right corner of his mouth, he said in a soft voice that was just a few decibels over the threshold of staying a whisper; “I saw you staring earlier, see something you liked?”

Charlie gulped so loud that it sounded like he swallowed a mouthful of food with zero chews. He then nodded his head as he tried his absolute best to “be cool” about what was happening.

“Your balls were hanging out, hahaha, it’s hard not to look.” The laugh that left Charlie’s lips was dry and chocked full of nervous energy. He was stood by a bed, his crush holding him by his waist, and just a few layers of cotton in between that allegedly fat cock and his ass – if there was anyone who deserved a bit of slack for fumbling, it was Charlie.

Finnick let out a chuckle and squeezed the mouse’s hips again. He then started to gently grind his crotch into the him, getting himself slightly hard in the process. The blunt tip of his unflared equine cock slowly inched out from its sheath as he rolled his hips.

Charlie, pushed to the edge by the gentle grinding of zebra junk into his ass, bit his lip and turned his head slightly over his right shoulder to glance back at the action happening downstairs. He let out a huff and found his legs shaking as his heart redirected the majority of his bloodflow to his pretty boy cock. Through a lip bite, Charlie gained the confidence to ask; “Are you trying to fuck me, Finnick?”

Finnick was an honest man, he chuckled, and shook his head, but the head shake slowly turned into a nod, and his toothless smirk turned into a toothy grin.

“Mhmn,” he replied. “Would you like that?”

Charlie was an honest mouse, he nodded too.

With consent from both parties exchanged, Finnick let go of the mouse and pulled himself about an inch away from his rear to give himself some room to remove the last piece of clothing that kept him decent. He looked down at his basketball shorts as he stepped back, pulled the silky-smooth fabric down over the slight bulge that was his semi-erect equine dick, and kicked them off once they piled down over his ankles. His melon-sized balls hung low between his legs and his dick continued to grow out of his sheath.

The zebra watched as his dick grew and found himself a little distracted by his own hog, so he didn’t see what Charlie was up to.

Charlie, a little more than a little distracted by Finnick’s fat cock, stared for a few seconds before he turned around to put one foot up on the bed and pulled his pajama pants off. As he lowered the pink patterned pants down to his ankles to reveal a cheese-yellow pair of leggings with a big cutout in the back for his ginormous tail. The leggings were skintight and shaped to the mouse’s gorgeous figure that he worked hard to keep. When Finnick looked up from his dick, he bit his lower lip at the sight of Charlie’s underwear-covered ass. Man, did that mouse have a fantastic booty. He eyed Charlie’s behind for a few seconds before he spotted something unexpected.

A bulge, a big one, just south of the taint, where he was expecting to find a mound with maybe a little bit of wetness seeping through. The zebra froze in place and went silent. His eyes stared at the bulge from Charlie’s own fat sack that he had in between his legs.

Charlie, slightly confused by the silence that his undressing had caused, turned his head over his shoulder to see a stun locked Finnick staring at him at a slightly downward angle. After a brief moment to calculate his line of sight, he came to the realization that Finnick had thought he was a girl the whole time.

It made sense, since they weren’t close enough for him to know specific details about him like that.

Normally, when something like this occurred, Charlie would pull his pants up and remove himself from the situation as fast as he could to avoid any bad end, but he’d come too far to stop now. What was a little more pushing of his luck stats going to do? Get him hurt? Maybe. Get him laid? Definitely maybe.

“Oh,” Charlie broke the silence with a smile, his tail whipping side to side in an attempt to hypnotize the zebra with it. “You didn’t know I was a boy?”

For a second after the mouse spoke, Finnick’s eyes darted up to meet with his. He was silent – not even a simple shake of his head came from him. His blue eyes remained on the mouse’s amber ones for a good 15 seconds before they went back to the mouse’s bulge, then down to his own cock that still continued to grow out from his black leathery sheath, despite the surprise.

His massive equine dick flopped downward to Earth’s gravitational pull and throbbed to life with each beat of his heart that pumped liters of blood to it. Eventually, his arousal overpowered gravity and he became fully erect with his dick parallel to the floor. Finnick’s biggest “stripe” measured 16 inches long, and was at the very least a soda can in girth at its thinnest. His tip, even while unflared, was 1.5x of that. The gap in between him and Charlie was less much than 16 inches, thus his dick poked and prodded against his leggings-covered ass, and even rubbed against the underside of his bulge a bit, too.

After a whole five minutes of silence, Finnick started chuckling again, took a single step forward, and brough his hands back to the mouse’s waist. His dick slid up over his rear, brushed by his tail, and rubbed against his lower back.

“I had no idea.” The zebra shrugged his shoulders. “Still want to fuck you, though.”

Charlie, who was on the verge of busting just from the physical touch from Finnick, completely forgot about the equine size condoms he brought with him and that was completely alright.

God praise the bisexuals.

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Art by SMU

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