A Guest in the Kitchen
A Guest in the Kitchen
-WuffyCanine
I woke up early with Wiley on Monday morning, our usual routine. I'd make the coffee while he grabbed a shower, since he had to run off to work early. Wiley came down in his usual fur-style between his ears - straight, boring, the cougar never changed his style, ever. He was dressed in his business attire - dress shirt, tie, grey slacks. It was the usual for him.
"Morning Sig," he called to me as he sat down at the breakfast table in front of the window, where I was already seated reading the paper. "Mind if I read that for a bit?" I think I had the paper moreso to change things up, since he always grabbed the paper in the morning and wanted to sit and read it instead of talking to me.
I reluctantly gave him the paper and cradled my own coffee mug in my paws. "I think we should take a vacation, maybe just something for a long weekend even would be great," I woofed softly, raising the mug to my muzzle for a sip.
The cat shrugged his shoulders in response. "Naw I can't, the new product line is in and I probably can't take a day off for another month or two until things settle," came his response as he paged through the paper, right to the business section.
I let out a muffled sigh and stared down at my coffee. We never did anything, well, almost never. The previous night was the exception. "Well, when you can, I mean. It was great getting out to the club last night though, Taylor seemed to appreciate it. A good birthday celebration for the dog."
"Is he still crashed out up in the guest room?"
I nodded. "Yeah, I figure I'll let him sleep off all the alcohol, then I'll take him to pick up his car in the afternoon."
"Leena could have crashed out too," he barked out, folding the paper over and starting to focus on an article. Leena was Taylor's girlfriend, who also accompanied us on the previous evenings escapades, although she didn't seem too thrilled about Taylor getting so wasted.
"Well, she wanted to be dropped off on the way home..."
"I KNOW that, I was driving last night, 'yote," he snapped back at me, giving me a menacing look.
"Well you don't have to BARK at me, cat," I growled back, slipping up off my chair and moving over to the counter to shuffle some things around and pretend I was doing something important. In reality, I was frustrated - it seemed like anytime Wiley and I would chat in the morning, he'd get upset about something. I kept my back to him, and heard him get up, thinking he was going to step up behind me and give me an apologetic nosing, but instead he walked to the sink, set his mug down in there, then turned and grabbed his keys from the top of the fridge. "I have to get to work, see you later." And with that, he saw his way to the door and left.
I sighed before wandering to the sink, deciding it was best to busy myself with some sort of chore, so I began washing the dirty dishes by paw. My mind kept wandering over the silly little spat. I'm not sure why it bothered me so much, but I kept hashing it over in my head. Five years and we'd become a boring couple. The morning routine was dull. The arguments were growing more frequent, inversely proportional to the sex. We were falling into that rut of an old married couple...
I was so lost in my thoughts that I didn't notice Taylor walking into the kitchen behind me, at least not until his black paw found my shoulder. "Hey," he mumbled to me in a bit of a hoarse morning tone. "You're up early."
I turned my head to look over my shoulder at him. "Yeah, I...couldn't sleep and felt like I needed to do something constructive," I replied with a half smile back toward him, hiding my true reasons for not going back to bed. My eyes wandered over his body for a moment, and yes, the dog was still clad in the clothes (or lack thereof) that I put him down in the previous night, just his red boxers. I quickly turned my attention back to the dishes in front of me and continued my chore.
"Do you need any help?" He asked, that paw giving my shoulder a soft squeeze. It felt like more than a question, like he had heard the frustrating events of earlier.
"No thanks," I responded with a shake of my head and muzzle. "There's only a couple more to go."
A few seconds of silence followed after his paw left my shoulder, and I heard him open the refrigerator behind me. "I guess I was a little out of it last night."
I nodded, keeping my focus on the dishes. "Yeah, you were pretty far gone when I put you on the futon."
The fridge door shut behind me and I felt that paw return to my left shoulder, this time accompanied by a nose against the back of my right ear. "About that...thanks for taking care of me." His voice was low, and his muzzle brushed over that ear of mine and rested atop my head.
I fumbled with one of the plates, catching it before it dropped back into the water. "No trouble at all, anyone would have done it," I replied, my voice cracking a bit at the end when I felt his chest press to my back and his paws slide around my waist. It was a nice hug, and unexpected - definitely not something I was used to feeling with Wiley being mister predictable all the time.
"You didn't have to do it, Sig." The lab brushed the fur under his chin over my headfur, causing my paws to stop moving the plates in the water-filled sink before me. "It was very kind of you." Those paws at my waist squeezed me tightly in a hug, and I could do nothing but melt back into it. Boy did it feel good to have a warm body against me in such an unexpected manner, and even moreso was the fact that neither he nor I was wearing a shirt. We were both clad in our underwear - him in his boxers, and I in my boxerbriefs.
I began to open my muzzle to say something when his squeeze pulled me a little more back against him, and his hips were introduced gently to my backside. My tail twitched when I felt his groin nestle against my rump, of course two layers of thin fabric between them, but that thick bulge of his sheath was unmistakable. Again my muzzle opened to say something, but this time I found myself not really knowing what to say, my mind more awash in confusion.
"You smell good," he murred, his muzzle and throat vibrating against my head.
I let out a chuckling sigh in return. "You smell good too." I was half-lying as he smelled a bit of smoke and booze, but I could smell his canine scent through it all, and when I felt a swelling pulse of that clothed sheath of his still nestled to my backside, I swear his scent started to swell in the air as well. "We, uh...dropped Leena off at her house last night."
"Good, I was wondering how she got home." He paused, his body still pressed to mine. "She's the toughest girl I've dated, I mean, we've been on 5 dates and she's still not putting out!"
I laughed and shook my muzzle. "Nothing wrong with that, maybe she's just old-fashioned?"
I heard him let out a growling chuckle, his fit tummy shifting to my back with the giggle. "Or maybe she's a lesbian."
Again, I shook my muzzle and turned my head over my shoulder a bit, sticking my tongue out at him. "Well maybe you should turn gay then..."
There was a few seconds of silence, and then I felt it. His muzzle lifted up along my left ear, nosing against it and gently caressing those white fangs along the furred triangular flesh. This was enough to send shivers tracing up and down my whole body, and yet again my tail twitched to the side. Perhaps he took that as more of an opportunity, because immediately afterward I felt him subtly grind his hips against me, that sheath of his clearly swollen and something poking out from within that pocket of furred flesh, tenting his boxers against my backside. "Maybe...if it means getting more tail..."
It was at this point that my thoughts returned to Wiley. At first, my immediate thought was that I needed to stop this now, but a second unmistakable forward grind of Taylor's hips clouded my thoughts. Instead of thinking about stopping it all, I closed my eyes and could almost see Wiley doing this to me. My muzzle opened enough to release a soft murring groan from between my muzzlelips.
I was snapped back into the reality of things when I noticed Taylor's paws give my hips a firm grip, this time driving his groin against my butt with more vigor, and those tented boxers mashing up between my clothed rumpcheeks. "Taylor, you should st..."
I didn't get to finish before his muzzle found my neck, drawing his teeth over my furred flesh in a soft bite, then following it up with a few short laps of his tongue. "Relax Sig, I'm just giving you a hug."
I knew it was more than a hug, but something about his words, or perhaps about my own desires, caused me to nod my head in approval. It also might have been the fact that I felt his hips draw back away from me, and that warm firmness draw away from my rump. It was at this point that one of his paws left my hip, and that muzzle of his returned to my neck to lap at it. Perhaps that licking distracted me from hearing the sounds of his boxers dropping, but when those blackfurred hips returned to my backside, I could feel his rigid shaft as it mashed up along my rump and just alongside the base of my tail - he was a taller dog than me, after all.
"Taylor, I..." I began again, pushing my dish-soapy paws to the counter and sink in an effort to push back to draw away from him, but that missing paw of his soon found its place on the front of my boxerbriefs, giving my sheath a firm squeeze through the cotton. I realized at this point how much I had been enjoying this, as my own underwear was well-tented from the teasings. The dog behind me gave a faint but audible murring-chuckle at his findings.
His full intentions became clear when I felt much of his weight press against me, pinning my thighs to the counter in front of me. This wasn't just teasing anymore... My boxerbriefs were soon yanked and tugged, his weight making it difficult for his paw to manipulate them free of the curves of my rump and that tent in the front of them, but the fabric soon was wrapped around my thighs, leaving my hard coyote shaft pressed up uncomfortably to the countertop in front of me, and my tawnygray-furred rumpcheeks cradling his rigid member, the tip of it pressing against the base of my tail.
My paws braced on whatever I could find in front of me - the sink, the faucet, the splashguard behind the sink. Taylor's chest was pressed firmly against my back, bending me over the sink. I heard his breathing grow shallow for a moment as his hips shifted, manipulating that dogcock behind me until I felt the nudge of the firm tapered tip prod at my tailhole. The full reality of what he was going to do struck me then and there, but before I could protest I felt a rock of his hips and a couple inches of that firm cock sink into my rump.
And oh man did it feel thick.
My tailhole was spread by the black lab's cock as his hips pressed forward, that thick length sinking in a few inches under my tail. My rump seered in painful pleasure as another shift of his hips dug that contoured member deeper into my undertail. "God, Sig..." came a growl from behind me, his muzzle biting down on my neck again and panting that hot canine breath right into my furred flesh.
I opened my muzzle to voice another protest, but yet another rock of his hips caused my voice to crack and some unintelligible mess of sounds to come out from my muzzle. It was all I could do, feeling his furred hips pressing fully into my backside. It had been weeks since Wiley had done this with me, and every shift and grind of that erection inside of me caused shivers of pleasure to wash over every inch of my body.
The black dog behind me drew his weight back, paws on my hips as his member also withdrew, only to be crammed right back into my tail passage. The motion wasn't slow, but it wasn't fast either, but it felt like he was treating me like a female. Again, the same motion came, and every contour of that dog flesh massaged out and then back in along my tightness.
My thoughts strayed to Wiley. He was my cougar, after all, and I started to push my paws to the countertop again in protest. But again, the dog's weight behind me thrust in hard, his paws pressing over my paws now as his bite become a little more firm on my shoulder. "Relax Sig...we both need this..." he growled out, half panting, his paw sliding to my groin and giving my member a good squeezing stroke. I can only imagine how this must have caused my rump to throb around his dogmeat, especially by the way he repeated the stroke again and again.
In fact, all his motions were repeating - thrusting, the panting, the grinding right into my backside. He was bigger than Wiley, I was sure of that by how I felt like his canine cock stretched me out with every thrust. I started to feel his pace quicken, the slapping of what I could only imagine were pretty big canine balls jostling in off the backs of my thighs. I could feel that knot of his starting to swell as he humped into my rump so lewdly, his paw stroking my shaft over and over again.
A few moments later, the sensations of being mated like a bitch in heat came to a head. That knot which had been bumping against my rim and slipping in, albeit with a bit of trouble in a couple of previous thrusts, sunk past my abused tailhole and seemed to swell. I didn't want him to tie with me, so my first instinct was to try and pull away, my paws pressing at the countertop and pushing myself to the side. But by this time, it was too late, his knot simply tugged at my tailpassage, and my own writhings and pulling away like that probably just heightened the sensation of the tie for him. And as that knot swelled inside of me, my own orgasm struck. I didn't even notice my knot was already swollen and rigid until I felt that rush of pleasure well up from my balls, and those thick spurts of coyote cum spray out across the clean dishes on the counter, over the sink and into the water.
My tailhole clenched and squeezed behind his knot with every throb of my own orgasm - I can only imagine how good it must have felt for him too as a moment later his whole shaft began to throb, knot included, and I began to feel his warm dogcum draining into my depths. His mating of me was becoming complete, topped off by this, his triumphant tie and his seed filling my depths. God did it feel good.
My whole body quivered against the counter as the dog and I both rode out our climaxes until finally I slumped over the sink, his chest over my back as his paws started petting along my tummyfur. "God Sig," he whispered out, panting into my neck and shoulder. "Mmmmf, I've never knotted a girl before...fuck, Sig...it feels so good..." I could still feel slight throbs of his shaft and knot inside of me, every heavy pant of his chest would cause it to shift, and I could feel some cum dripping down my rump and between my legs, the dog must have been a firehose...
I panted, my own pleasure waning now from the mating. "W...Why did you do that?" I always thought Taylor was a handsome dog, but I never in a million years considered him for anything other than a friend. I mean, he's straight! Or I thought he was...
"Sorry, I just thought...we both needed it, I mean..." came his whimper, his muzzle brushing along the base of my ear now.
I had never cheated on Wiley before, but even now, despite the act, I didn't feel mad at Taylor. Maybe it was the fight from the morning, maybe it was all those boring days we'd been having, maybe it was how stale we'd been feeling in general, and maybe it was a combination of all of those things. I really wanted to be mad at the dog behind me, so I'd have that ability to yell at him and blame him for what had happened if Wiley asked, but as he whimpered to my ear, the urge to coddle him and hold him was far greater. If I could have turned around to wrap my paws around him, I would have. "What...are you going to tell Leena?" Was all I could muster, although I really wanted to ask him what I should tell Wiley.
"I don't know," came his whimper again.
And, in truth, I didn't know what I would tell Wiley either. I didn't know what any of it meant - did Taylor like me? Was it just a dog getting his rocks off? Was Wiley going to find out somehow?
"Come on, Sig, I'll walk you to the bed. I need to lie down..."