Extremely top tier art by the inestimable, indivisible, and uh, indefatigable: NumberFour! Yaaaaay!

A continuation of: Milo getting his butt skillfully plowed in a tent

Max, already a light sleeper prone to night terrors in the safety of his own bedroom, was absolutely convinced he had heard the hoarse, howling shriek of the kambal-tou outside his small single jackal tent. Although he didn't really think ancient Jackhælic desert monsters would be trying to steal the marrow from his bones in the chilly and forested Sierra Nevadas, which left him with only one possibility: one or more masked slashers were stalking and murdering his friends, presumably leaving him for last so as to inflict the maximum amount of terror before finally chasing him back to the edge of the lake that stood between him and civilization. The young jackal thought he could make the three kilometer swim back to the relative safety of the Wolverton Lake trailhead, but that was assuming that there was nothing Scary and presumably Tentacled living in the fathomless depths of Lake Wolverton, the safer bet might be to bolt into the woods and try and make the long trek around the lake, a plan which would leave him open to being machete-ed but which at least wouldn't risk lake monsters, as long as he stayed away from the edge at least. He had almost dozed off again after mostly convincing himself that he had just imagined the Scary Noise when a low groan echoed through the campsite. He definitely hadn't imagined it that time, he cursed himself for not taking up Gaius' offer to stay in his tent in a misguided effort to prove that he wasn't scared of sleeping alone in the woods.

Summoning all of his limited courage, Max carefully unzipped the screen and rain fly of his tent a bare few centimeters and peeked out into the moonlit campsite, sure that at any moment a perfectly timed spear or machete would loom out of the darkness and plunge into his eye. Instead, the campsite was still and quiet, the four other tents didn't show any signs of knife slashes or impalement and he thought he could hear someone lightly snoring from the direction of Alrik and Bradley's tent. Still... something wasn't quite right, Shep's large Southern People's Army surplus tent had a dim light glowing inside, and he could just barely make out silhouettes of people inside. He made up his mind, muttering a quiet prayer to Anubis and grabbing his good luck scarab, Max prepared to make a mad dash to Shep's tent in the hopes that the survivors were huddled around the relative safety of the huge cave hyena and he wasn't just looking at a tent full of Masked Slashers.

Pictured: After two days without any kind of relief, a very on edge Vlad has a rare loss of control and loudly blows his load in Milo well before he meant to, and after a quick internal debate about whether or not he could just keep going, decides to perform for his audience of older, studlier teens and slowly pulls out of his still very worked up boyfriend, giving the jackal a solid slap on one round cheek before sticking his snout under Milo's tail and slowly dragging his tongue across his leaking hole.

Meanwhile, Gaius, after skillfully teasing Shep's absolute pillar of a Hyena Penis, convinces the shy cave hyena to let him take a ride; although even the experienced side-striped jackal has some trouble actually making it fit. Shep, although stunned into silence from both watching Vlad and Milo Doin' It and from having a cute boy show an interest in him, lets out a low growl as his cock is engulfed by the impossibly warm, tight vise of Gai's ass, just in time to be interrupted by the fly of the tent being fumbled open in a great, tearing hurry. Shep, having been raised in the far less queermosexual tolerant Red South, is sure it's a commissar ready to arrest him for A Counterrevolutionary Act and possibly leading a Fascist Homosexual Conspiracy, although even if it had been he's not sure he could have actually stopped.

Instead, a terrified Max barges into the tent rambling about camel toes or something trying to eat his bones and dudes with masks stabbing out his eyeballs. Milo, at roughly crotch height with the smaller jackal, drags Max in by the butt and tells him to close the door. Max, still extremely body shy and acutely aware of his body's ability to nut from only the mildest of stimulation, would almost have preferred masked slashers to the potential embarrassment that could result from having his new friend touching his butt and nuzzling at the crotch of his shorts, almost. Milo, horned up to previously unknown levels, gently talks the nervous jackal into the best cure for night terrors: blowjobs!

Not pictured: Milo reaches peak levels of jackal sex energy; Vlad gets a chance to suck off a Cool, Older Teen; Max forgets all about Murderous Monsters; Shep and Gaius smooch. All this and more on the next episode of Shep's 20xx Yeenoventures!