Dylan's Dick Pic (Patreon)

Dylan never really understood the whole “Green Bubble” vs “Blue Bubble” thing when it came to texting. Why did it matter if someone that you were texting was using an Android or an iPhone? Text messages still got delivered regardless of what phone you had, right? Plus, the bunny was a bigger user of the Korean instant messaging service LINE, anyway. So, when he moved to the United States of America and heard that this text messaging standard war was a serious thing, he thought it was a little ridiculous. 

That all changed when he started using Apple’s built-in messaging service, iMessage, more, and saw first-hand how any Android user in the group text ruined the experience for everyone else. They had no read receipts, weren’t able to see or do the cool animations, and worst of all; every picture or video that they sent was pixelated or blurry. The longer the bunny spent in the USA, the more he became conditioned to judge those with Android phones. They weren’t bad, but when you had an iPhone, you were in a beautiful walled garden with exotic flowers, tropical fruits, and a fountain that rivaled the Trevi in Rome. And when you had a friend who couldn’t use iMessage; it was like someone picked all the exotic flowers, took a single bite out of all the tropical fruit growing on the trees, and filled the Roman fountain with knockoff Dr. Pepper. 

“Ugh, green bubbles.” Became a frequent phrase and often came with a judgmental eye roll and a very specific gaze that only trust fund kids had; the pure disdain for the financially less fortunate. Even if the “green bubbler” in question had one of the pricier phones that folded in half, he’d still judge them a little. All the work he put in to not fall into the stereotype of someone who grew up in a family with old money, gone; and all it took was a different colored text messaging bubble.

So when it came to the guy he was talking to with more romantic intentions, him not having an Apple phone was going to make it very difficult. How was Dylan supposed to send him cute text messages with animated hearts to show his affection? The thought alone was ludicrous. So, after a few dates with Charlie, a mouse he had become fond of, he got him a little present when his birthday rolled around. 

A brand-new yellow iPhone, along with an assortment of cheese-themed accessories to go with it; a cheese sticker, a cheese-shaped case, a cheese-shaped charging brick, and even a string cheese-themed charging cable. A gesture that showed that he paid attention to the subtle hints and nuances in the rodent’s tone whenever he complained about the stereotype that he and other mice were subjected to. 

“Ugh, another cheese-themed product designed by someone who thinks that they know mice. Cringe.” Charlie complained about the cheese ads on his phone, which was an older Samsung device. It took every fiber in the bunny’s nerd brain not to blurt out that those ads were based on Charlie’s internet activity, and that he, in fact, wanted those cheese-themed products. And that if he had an iPhone, he’d have the option to limit how invasive these types of ads were. Instead, he kept quiet, smiled, and nodded in agreement with the strawberry cream cheese mouse and planned the perfect present for his birthday.

It was true, though. Charlie, like all mice, loved cheese and cheese-themed everyday items. It was a stereotype for a reason. He was smitten and slightly overwhelmed by the gift from the bun but found himself confused when Dylan then decided to take his sweet time in taking their relationship further. He was so slow, that Charlie decided to be the one to ask him through an iMessage along with a very risqué picture to pull his attention away from his late-night gaming session with the boys. 

1 new message and 1 photo from Charlie.

Charlie: Do I have your attention now? c:

Getting that mouse onto the Blue Bubble team was the best thing Dylan had ever done. 

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A few months had gone by since Charlie asked Dylan to be his boyfriend and everything was going great. Zero arguments, their schedules were in sync, and the sex was INCREDIBLE. Dylan did feel a little embarrassed that his dick was smaller than Charlie’s whenever they had a playful dick-measuring contest, but all his embarrassment melted away once he stuck his dick into that mouse and showed him that technique triumphed over size. 

The bunny hadn’t planned to have sex with the mouse so soon after they became official, but when he sped over to his house to talk to him about their relationship in person, one thing led to another, and somehow his dick ended up in Charlie’s hand, ass, and mouth, exactly in that order. The mouse had a way of making the somewhat shy and timid nerd turn into a beast in the bedroom; especially whenever Charlie told him to fuck him with his “big trust-fund dick”. The first time Charlie said that to him, the bunny was mid-thrust. He didn’t think it was possible to cum so hard from just words. To be fair, Charlie’s bussy was doing a lot of the heavy lifting with its clenches whenever Dylan’s dick rubbed against his prostate. But when those words reached the carrot cruncher’s ears, his average stamina score which had so far been high, dropped significantly as his nuts tucked upward and he unloaded what was an ungodly amount of his piping hot virile seed into that tight and needy mouse boy pussy. 

A few months into their relationship, Charlie announced to Dylan that he had to go away on a trip with a friend for three weeks. His “friend” was apparently singer-songwriter Alex Marx the Spot and he was going on a couple stops of her tour with her. He wasn’t sure if he was telling him the truth, or if he was off to do something embarrassing that he didn’t want him to know about; like a Cheese Camp. He didn’t try to pry, though; he trusted him, whether he was traveling the world with his famous popstar “friend” or at a camp for cheese enthusiasts, he was happy that his mouse boyfriend was off to do something fun and was excited for him to come back to tell him all about it. A piece of cake, he thought; he’d just go to work, game, maybe work on a couple of his side projects, and the three weeks without Charlie would pass by in no time! And if he ever got horny, he could always use a fleshlight, or his hand if he was desperate. But ideally, he wanted to abstain from such acts entirely, give Charlie the greatest fuck ever once he was back, and fill his butt with three weeks’ worth of rabbit spunk that would get even the least fertile woman pregnant. Hell, he wasn’t even sure if Charlie would be safe from impregnation if he held off jerking it for the entire 21 days. 

The first two weeks were easy; Dylan was able to keep himself busy with work, video games, and movies here and there. But once the final week rolled around, he started to notice how hot a lot of the men in the video games he played were and his dick throbbed to life so quickly that it thumped against the underside of his desk and knocked his in-game aim way off. Having to explain to your teammates that your dick thumping against your table was what cost you the win wasn’t particularly fun. 

Dylan turned to working out to keep his mind off of Charlie’s cheesecake; he jogged around the block, took on Charlie’s treadmill that the mouse had put in his apartment because he did not have space for it in his own, and even bought one of those pull-up bars that people always got hurt using after installing them incorrectly in a doorway.

But exercise only made his mind wander to the gym shorts that Charlie liked to wear whenever he was working out. The mental image of the mouse’s shapely rear in those shorts so tight that it looked like his ass was vacuum sealed with a layer of cling film plagued his mind, and in just a matter of minutes, as he fought for his life on one of the treadmill’s higher settings, his dick got hard. It throbbed and pushed out against the paper-thin and breathable sports shorts that he had on. 

As his dick grew from a stubby Gregg’s sausage roll to a thick and juicy seven-and-a-half-inch bratwurst, the bunny’s attempt at conquering the treadmill upgraded to an even higher level of difficulty. He fumbled and almost tumbled over his own big thumping feet as he spread his legs apart awkwardly to make room for his dick. He tried continuing his run for what was a minute before he gave up, stopped the machine, and let out an exhausted pant. Cardio was tough on his legs, and with a third one twitching and throbbing for some tender love and care, he was more like a tripod on the treadmill than Usain Bolt. As the treadmill slowed down and came to a stop, Dylan let himself slide off of the exercise machine’s belt and stood awkwardly in the middle of his home gym as his dick tested the limits of his short’s elasticity.

His dick extended outward from his pelvis like a ferry pier on a Southeast Asian resort island and wobbled like one on a particularly rough sea day. It bounced, throbbed, and twitched with each heartbeat, it moved so much that it looked like he had a separate living being in his pants. He closed his eyes and imagined the most un-arousing thing possible; a crusty politician who championed anti-homosexuality laws, but was in fact a closeted homosexual begging to be fucked. But somehow all his thoughts led him to Charlie. He missed him, he missed him badly. 

Dylan continued his awkward spread-leg walk over to the floor-to-ceiling mirror wall that he had on the other side of the room where he left his phone. He couldn’t take it anymore, he had to get it out of his system, and he had just the thing to help. The rabbit grabbed his phone, pulled it up to his face to unlock it, and was just about to open up the only nude photo of Charlie that he had in his hidden gallery when he saw that he had a stack full of unread notifications. Banking apps, a few marketing emails, some notifications about games on his Steam wish list, a few messages from his dad about taking over the family business, and a message from Charlie asking if he was busy or not. He ignored all of the other notifications and opened up Charlie’s message with hearts in his eyes, only to realize that the mouse had sent him that message three hours ago. 

In a slight panic, Dylan quickly tapped his thumbs across the screen of his phone and replied to his boyfriend. 

Dylan: Hey, sorry for the slow reply, was making use of your treadmill. 😄 What’s up babe?

Once his message was sent, Dylan watched the indicator go from “sent” to “delivered” and waited for it to turn into “read”, but after two minutes of waiting, he felt his dick throb again and again, as if it was trying to get his attention. He moved his phone to the side, looked down at his tent, and let out a sigh. He really wanted to get through the entire three weeks without nutting so that when he did get to either nut on his boyfriend’s face or his ass, it’d be like splashing him with a big bucket of white paint that was so thick, it would need to be scooped out of his fur, so thick that it made his eyelids heavy and impaired his vision temporarily, so thick that it bulged his tummy just enough for the mouse to become a little bit pudgy. 

So much for trying not to constantly think of his boyfriend in the hopes of bringing his dick down. 

With another sigh as his message still went unread, the bunny continued to stare at his dick as it throbbed over and over again, jumping up and down like a dog locked in a hot car begging to be let out for some fresh air. Dylan stuck his thumbs underneath the waistband of his shorts and slid them down to his knees. As his pants slipped down his legs, it became apparent that he wasn’t wearing any underwear. He was going to get sweaty anyway, so the less clothing he wore, the less he’d have to put in the laundry. His glasses weren’t just for show, he was a smart bun.

The waistband of his shorts slowly revealed his dick, beginning with the extra bit of thick fur at his pelvis and going down the white-to-pink gradient of his meaty shaft. Once his shorts pulled down enough for his dick to no longer have anything keeping it tame, it flopped out like a fully-wound jack-in-the-box. Big, fat, long, and uncut, Dylan’s dick whipped out and flung beads of his dick sweat all over the place; and shortly after, the smell of his sweaty post-workout dick fumigated the room like a can of men’s locker room scented Febreze.

With his dick out, throbbing, and stinking up the room, Dylan stared at it almost like a disappointed Asian parent seeing a B+ on a report card. His heart continued to pump blood to it and his massive bunny balls that were full of cum churned and twitched almost excitedly at the prospect of maybe being emptied. Dylan reached for his cock with his free hand and started rubbing himself slowly. His fingers wrapped around his shaft and he slid it up and down along his length, rolling his foreskin up to cover his tip as he moved his hand up and peeling it all the way back as he brought his grip around his dick down to the base. 

‘Schlrp.’

“Hhhhrrrrrff…”

Dylan let out a huff through his nose that fogged up his glasses and pushed them up to his forehead once he couldn’t see through them anymore. He continued to rub one out for a few minutes, going slow and steady until his dick started to leak out clear and sticky precum from its tip. The more he touched himself, the more pent up he felt. He wanted to blow his load so bad that his balls ached. With one ear draped over his shoulder and chest, he turned his attention to his phone to pull up the picture of Charlie that was the crème de la crème of what Dylan had saved in his “yoinky spoinky” album.

Right as he swiped away from his text chat with his boyfriend and tapped on his photos app, his phone buzzed with a new text from Charlie.

‘Bzz!’

Charlie: I bet you look really good on that treadmill. 😉I miss you!

Dylan stopped rubbing his dick and quickly reopened the chat. After he read the text, his lips morphed into a smirk and a very horny lightbulb lit up in his head. He quickly typed up and sent a reply.

Dylan: I miss you, too. Wanna see the results? 

The mouse replied with an animated mouse face emoji with giant heart eyes.

Dylan bit his lip and opened the in-app camera. He hovered his phone over himself so that his lower abdomen, pelvis, and penis were in-frame, and after a few adjustments to his hand’s position on his cock, he snapped the picture. He gave his dick pic a quick look before he sent it off to the mouse. 

‘Click.’

The picture took a bit longer to send than a text. But the small indicator underneath it went from “sent” to “delivered” to “seen” faster than he could say “mouse boy bussy”. Once his dick pic was seen by the mouse, Dylan continued to jerk off as he waited for his reply. 

After three full minutes of silence, with the typing indicator popping up and disappearing in between, the mouse replied.

Charlie: Holy SHIT DYLAN! I didn’t think you were going to send THAT. PEOPLE SAW YOUR DICK.

Dylan panicked.

Charlie: But don’t panic, they all said it’s a nice dick.

Too late.

Charlie: You’re making me miss you even more, big dick bunny boy… 👀

Dylan’s panic went from zero to a hundred then back to zero again as he read through Charlie’s replies. The more he read, the more his dick throbbed. His dick leaked precum as he thought about his dick being seen by others. The bunny boy didn’t quite know it yet, since he hadn’t had the chance to explore it, but he was somewhat of an exhibitionist. The idea of people seeing his junk, liking it, and how it probably made Charlie proud, too, gave him a massive hard-on. He continued to rub his dick up and down as he thought of something to reply to the mouse with. Another horny light switched on in his head, he chewed on his lip, let out a huff, and started recording himself beating his meat. 

‘Schlllllck…’ 

“Fuck… I miss you, Padano...”

After recording a short 15-second clip of his hand pumping his dick up and down and rolling his foreskin back and over his pink and shiny cock head over and over, he sent it to his boyfriend. He knew that he’d enjoy it, and hoped that maybe, just maybe, he’d open it in the presence of his friends, too.

His dick leaked an abundance of precum just thinking about it.

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Art by SMU