Striper was only to the young otter's waist when his meal realized what was going on. Sandra would have laughed, had she been there to see.

It was easy to pick up a meal if you knew where to look. His size and reputation almost guaranteed that a horny young male would approach him at a bar or party. Failing that, a female, but they seemed to worry more about the well-known size of his cock. (Being a former porn actor had its advantages.) Neither gender would know about their probable fate if they did go home with him, naturally.

This time the otter had come right out and suggested some 69, which he'd took to mean mutual deep throat. Sure enough the lithe young water-weasel had flipped himself head-down and gone to work, clumsy but enthusiastic. The otter himself was already hard and unsheathed. Striper's stomach had grumbled, though, and he'd hardly given the otter's cock a lick before he yawned and took in his feet.

He knew better. He really did. The young otter was sucking and licking him, even managing a bit of deep throat despite the bulk of his skunky schlong. It felt wonderful, and he should have waited...but he couldn't resist an ottery meal. He went as carefully as he could, keeping his fangs from dragging, but when the otter felt the base of his tail land on Striper's head the jig was up.

With a wide-eyed gasp the otter popped his mouth off of Striper's cock, and the big skunk had little choice but to speed things up. Much as he would have loved to come in that musteline mouth, that mouth was full of fangs just like his. Instead of taking a chance he grabbed the otter by the shoulders, hoisted him up and stuffed him into his wide-open jaws.

“Wait-!” the otter managed, squirming as he found himself sliding feetfirst down a slippery skunk gullet. “That's not what I meant when I said....” But Striper did not wait. He was almost two feet taller and close to four times the otter's weight, and despite his struggles he stuffed the lithe ottery torso into his jaws. There was a last muffled protest as his jaws clamped down, then with one great gulp there was nothing left but a pair of brown-furred arms draining into his mouth.

This otter had three green-dyed rings on each wrist, which served as a useful depth gauge as the webbed hands slid in after the arms. The otter tried to grab hold, as they always did, but this time he snapped his muzzle open again at just the right moment so there was nothing to grab. With a last desperate caress of fingers on his tongue the otter disappeared down his throat.

It wiggled all the way down, and that had the usual effect on Striper. He cursed and snatched up the otter's purple boxer trunks, but before he could cover the end of his cock with them he came. His tail thumped the bed and he dropped the boxers. Jizm spurted all over the coverlet. His cock was almost four inches thick and it flipped around like a fleshy firehose, spreading the wealth near and far.

Five seconds later his tail stopped twitching and he ruefully surveyed the mess. One huge hand pressed his belly, restraining the struggles of the nameless young otter. Otters could hold their breath quite a while, but they were no harder to digest than a human or other furry.

When the struggle began to weaken, Striper stood and gathered up the bedclothes. Sandra would snicker when she smelled the newly-washed comforter and saw the bulge in his belly. She would instantly know that he'd let his appetite get the better of him again, instead of enjoying a leisurely romp before his meal.

He burped up the otter's last breath as he stuffed the coverlet in the washer. Better an amused wife than an angry one, and if he'd never hear the end of it if she came home and found skunk goo all over the bed!

*****

A requested pic for a fur over on Furaffinity. I hadn't drawn Striper for a while and I liked the theme the fur picked. Of course we've seen Striper do this before, but not with the prey unaware (until the instant of the pic) of what was happening. 83

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