The Black Shepherd - Chapter 7
#7 of The Black Shepherd
Art by raventenebris
Note: "Adult content" may/may not be included within the specific chapter but applies to The Black Shepherd as a whole.
Chapter Seven
Saturday April 19, 2008
6:50pm
"Wow."
Tyson's aching legs buckled underneath him as he was lowering himself to the passenger seat of Elena's Honda, and after falling into the cloth seat he gulped down a few breaths of warm, stuffy air. He was resolving to spend more time in his running shoes when the passenger door creaked open.
Elena cast an exhausted smile. "Going to make it?"
"Oh, yeah," said Tyson, cracking a grin and reaching for a deep breath before he sat up. "We gotta do more stuff like this."
It was unseasonably-warm for the Whitewater State Park's spring season, and while the wet woodland trails had sapped his stamina he couldn't have been more pleased. The park had been theirs and theirs alone. Not a soul on the trail--only the springy songs of sparrows and the flickering warbler's cries while they had walked paw in paw, picnicked on a dry spot of brown grass and surveyed the thawing river at the heart of the park. It had been a wonderful way to spend the day together.
Still smiling, Elena leaned over the center console and kissed Tyson's muzzle. "I'm glad you came along." She straightened back into her seat, and then they were pulling away from the empty gravel lot.
"If you're tired and want to rest a bit just let me know," said Tyson.
"I think you're the one who should be resting," the fox quipped.
"Yeah, that's true." The shepherd grinned, put his head back with a happy sigh and gazed out at the leafless trees passing by. "Just don't let me fall asleep."
A black-furred paw squeezed at his thigh.
"Will that help keep you up?" asked Elena.
"It might," said Tyson, grinning wider.
Elena kept the shepherd in suspense--dragging her paw slowly up his leg, down the olive cotton-elastane of his jeans, back over the length of his thigh and slightly higher with each climb. She wore a sly smile, kept her eyes on the road ahead and said nothing.
When the heal of her paw rolled into her boyfriend's lap, Elena unloosed a mischievous chuckle. "Maybe we'd better pull over," she suggested.
Tyson quickly agreed.
They climbed into the backseat alongside a road as quiet-looking as any--the White Honda conspicuous among the empty fields to either side. Neither of them cared.
Trousers, boxers and briefs were jerked down towards ankles. Aromas of arousal claimed the car's confines. Tyson, caged against the seat with black paws seeking the headrest behind him, breathed a sigh as Elena lowered herself to his lap.
She moved slowly, deliberately rolling her hips as she swiveled to the shepherd's tip, then, with the same care, lowered herself to his lap.
"Holy fuck," grunted Tyson, "you feel so good."
Elena leaned forward, kissing the shepherd. A hungry, impassioned kiss with gnashing teeth and heavy breaths, and as they kissed she continued to pleasure herself upon him--riding the hard canine cock up and down. Paws seized her hips. Up and down. Her arms fell about her lover's nape. Up and down. A hot fluttering. Up and down. Burning intensity. Up and down. The burst of hot seed. Overwhelming. Then . . .
Stillness. Panting breaths. Bodies recalling fatigue. Noses gleaming with sweat. More gasping breaths. A long, loving embrace, and . . .
Finally, warily, Elena's voice. "Wow."