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Pacific Ocean

About 2 km off the coast

A small boat sits out on the water. It was driven out not long ago by its crew of one. Said crew of one no longer mans the boat. He had since shed his clothes for a swimsuit and dove into the waters below, his position being revealed by a few bubbles breaking the surface.

A few meters below the surface swims the ship's sole crew: a brown timber wolf in swimming shorts. His name is Rall, and he's a natural in the water. Sure, he may not be able to outswim any Olympic swimmer, and he still needs to hold his breath, but he feels most comfortable deep in water.

He gives a few more downward kicks before reorienting himself to float staring upwards, spreading out his arms and legs. He lets a few bubbles float to the surface and allows the water to truly soak into his fur, wiggling his fingers and toes at the sensation. He allows himself to relax, watching the fish swim about, and a few dolphins as well. This is certainly the best way to relax after a long day.

A small stinging in his chest reminds him that he does need to breathe air soon. It's an urge he would obey, if it weren't for another, more tempting urge coming from further below.

He had read once about erotic asphyxia. A lack of oxygen causes sexual pleasure to become amplified. It varies from fur to fur, with some even getting pleasure simply from asphyxiation. Rall happens to be one of those, as he could tell from previous times spent swimming.

However, this would be the first time he'd indulge that urge. Against his better judgement, he slips his swim shorts off past his legs and tail, exposing his sheathe to the open water, as well as his already slightly exposed wolfhood.

A few bubbles escape his lips in anticipation, his legs kicking softly in a successful attempt to keep him from sinking deeper. He brings his paws down from a slow stroke, bringing them down his chest and stomach in a gentle caress, a slight tingling arising from the touch of his fingertips. It doesn't take long for those slender fingers to reach their intended target, but to the wolf it feels like an eternity. An eternity of longing for his own pleasuring touch, beneath the waves.

It's true. Every second he spends in the water, his lungs send a more and more distressed reminder of his need to breathe air. But, with each reminder, his pleasure grows. Unable to contain himself, he grips at his length and gives it many slow strokes with naught but a few bubbles spent in waiting. A tingling begins where he touches that travels slowly back to his spine, where it transforms into a shiver of pleasure, eliciting a moan that escapes his lips along with more small bubbles of air.

His lungs give him a sharp, but quick pain of protest, reminding him once again of his limitations, a pain he ignores. He's already started, and there's no stopping now. With one paw, he continues to stroke at his length, moving the other lower to grip lightly at his balls, giving them a small squeeze. He moans again, and with his expression of pleasure, more bubbles escape his lungs. At this rate, it doesn't take long for his cock to reach its full length, throbbing in his paw as he gladly strokes and squeezes at it.

Another squeeze on his balls causes another, louder moan from him, this one draining out a significant amount of bubbles of his air. Now, he realizes just how low his air has gotten, his lungs almost completely drained. But, with that, he also realizes just how close he is to finishing. Almost as though he is powerless to stop it, he continues stroking his length, placing a paw over his nose and maw to hold them shut.

The lack of air just drives him forward, stroking faster and faster. He's so close. Just a little more. But, just as the first few spurts of precum float out into the water, he feels his paw instinctively lift away from his muzzle, which he opens wide to let a flood of water into his lungs. Time seems to slow. His body seems to hang there for a moment before realizing the sudden intrusion and responding by attempting to cough up the water, only succeeding in emptying the air from his lungs to be replaced with more of the salty ocean water. He reaches his paws to his throat to stop taking in water, but too late. He's already drowning.

With a deep gulp of the water, he reaches and kicks and claws his way upwards, towards the surface, his pallor already taking on a blue hue. His vision starts to darken at the edges, with light spots appearing in front of him. And, yet, even through his drowning, he feels a burning between his legs. A need to indulge his desires. He ignores it, though, his only concern right now being filling his lungs with air. But, even then, it feels as though his paws are still on his cock, still stroking himself. Despite himself, he lets out a few moans, nearing the surface now.

However, with one final moan, even without his own touch, he reaches his climax, his arms and legs going limp as he shoots out his ropey seed into the water in front of him. The pleasure is enough to take his mind for a brief moment, to make him forget his predicament. His body slumps, goes limp, no more oxygen available to give his tired muscles any strength. For a moment, he believes it's all over. For the ultimate pleasure, he gives his life to the ocean.

But, then he feels suddenly energized, a shot of adrenaline shooting through him, causing him to kick and claw his way upwards with renewed vigor. And, it is this vigor that is just enough to pull him to the surface.

As soon as his muzzle breaks the surface, he draws in a deep breath of the fresh air, which turns into a coughing fit, his lungs desperately attempting to rid themselves of all the seawater. He scrambles about, gasping, coughing, and panting, and he eventually finds his boat, climbing in and laying down, taking a few moments to calm down and catch his breath, his disheveled fur matting around him.

After a couple minutes, he finally pushes himself to standing and grabs a pair of boxers to cover himself again before retaking command of the boat, returning to shore. He'd return. This was just too fun not to repeat.