Agree to help him

"Of course I will help you, sir," you say.

"Please, call me Lance," he says. "So, you're really a virgin?" You nod. "That's great. I was hoping you'd had some experience with this sort of thing. I suppose I need some kind of lubricant, wouldn't you think?"

"Maybe?" you say, uncertain. You've never heard of any of your kind needing extra lubrication. But then, Beastkin probably have larger tailholes, and your cocks usually emerge from their sheaths well-lubed. You look around and find a jar of a slippery substance in the nightstand. It smells like jasmine and aloe as Lance smears it between his tanned, muscular ass cheeks.

"All right," he says, sounding about as nervous as you feel, "how do you want to do this?"