It wasn't how Anthony intended on spending his evening but there was something cute about the young guy. Off the island the weasel may be ugly or fat or ... or anything else, but -here- he was kinda cute.
Small, but cute...
"Sure, Wes," he said after a moment, nodding his head towards the staff apartment complex towards the edge of the resort. "I'm just headin' home, though; late dinner, maybe listening to some music. Does that interest you?"
The little weasel brightened noticeably and returned his art book to his backpack. "That sounds great!" he responded, with a grin, and quickly had to jog to keep up with Anthony as the tiger strode off, his long legs forcing the smaller fur to pant after a few moments of keeping pace.
"So," asked Anthony en-route, "You ever been to the island, before?"
Wesley shook his head. "Naw; in fact, I kinda had to take out a loan to come here..."
The tiger blinked. "A loan? For a vacation?"
"Well, I kinda told the loan officer it was for a new computer..."
The tiger chortled, shaking his head as his long tail swished slowly behind him. "Man... Look, I'm not one to pass judgment, but couldn't you have saved up the money and come in a few years?"
Wes' ears reddened. "Well, yeah, but then I guess I wouldn't have met you..."
Anthony looked down and smirked. "Fair 'nuff," he responded, and continued to chat as they walked to his home.
Soon, with his key in the lock, the big tiger let Wesley into his apartment, the interior decorated like a deep jungle with thick, black-striped orange carpeting and heavy furniture to hold his massive frame without buckling. "Well," he said, "here we are... Make yourself comfortable..."
"Thanks."
Wesley sat down on an oversized couch, watching Anthony as the tiger puttered around in the kitchen, popping some wrapped meals into a microwave. "You want anything?" he asked the weasel, but Wes just shook his head in the negative. "Suit yourself," Anthony said.
"I don't want to be a bother," the weasel said.
"Heh, how old are you, anyway?" asked the tiger, chuckling at the formal nature of the young fur.
"Well, probably older than you," Wesley said.
It was certainly possible; many older people visiting the island had their age reduced as part of their fantasies of youth.
"Oh?" asked the tiger, "How old are you?"
"Eighteen," Wesley responded, shyly.
Anthony chuckled. "Well, if that's your real age, I'm afraid I've got you beat; I'm 38..."
The weasel only smiled at that and slowly pulled his art book out of his backpack again. Keeping his eyes on the tiger, absorbed in his cooking, Wesley muttered a few soft words under his breath and began tracing Anthony's signature with one finger. "Well, maybe for now; but -well- on an island like this, do you think that's immutable?"
The tiger paused, thinking about the question. "I suppose if I wanted to be younger, I could be..." he responded, taking his rare hamburgers out of the microwave.
"You could be anything," Wesley said with a grin, watching as the tiger's features slowly softened a bit. "Bigger, smaller, fatter, thinner..."
Anthony came into the living room and sat down next to the smaller fur with a laugh. "I dunno about that," he said as Wesley put the book away again. "I think I'm happy the way I am..."
"Oh?" asked Wesley with a wink, "Well, don't dismiss it if you haven't tried it..."
With that, he leaned in and kissed the tiger on the lips, surprising Anthony with the suddenness of it, but not entirely unexpected. Dropping his plate of hamburger meat on the living room table, he went with the flow and leaned in, pulling Wesley close and leaning the little weasel back against the arm of the couch.
The two stroked each other's furred bodies for several minutes, making out gently as Anthony's food grew cooler. The tiger could smell the arousal of his one-night-stand and feel both of them getting hard.
Breaking the kiss, the big tiger grinned down at Wesley and licked the tip of his nose. "I'm surprised," he said, "I didn't expect you to be so ... forward..."
Wesley grinned back and noticed the spell he'd cast upon the tiger was slowly taking effect. "When I see something I want," he responded, rubbing his palm over the big muscles of the tiger, "I tend to go a bit overboard..."
Anthony smiled and leaned in again, kissing Wesley and sliding his paw over the weasel's not inconsiderable bulge between his legs.
Wesley mrred and licked the tiger's ear, noting that the big man was at least a three or four years younger, now, and a couple inches shorter.