FSE

Furry search engine

formerly SoFurry search engine

Layover

(www.furaffinity.net/user/bur)

(fabulousmoose.sofurry.com)

© FabulousMoose

Marc woke slowly with a groan. He turned his head to the side, eyeballing the alarm clock with no small amount of distaste. Blocky numbers beamed brightly in the dark room: 7:28am. Another groan escaped his lips and he rubbed some of the sleep from his eyes, turning away. Out of sight, out of mind.

The bed felt empty with no one next to him, and Marc wished there was another body to take up some of the space. His hand drifted over the cool cloth, fanning out over smooth sheets where there should be warmth and fur. The desire to share his bed wasn't a feeling he was used to, leaning more often toward independence and self-reliance. For the first time in a long time though, he was sad to not be waking up next to a particularly warm, sometimes smelly, often horny Canid.

With a yawn, he relaxed back under the covers. There would be plenty of time to give Wyatt a call later once he was up and moving, but for now the day could wait. Work and school had created a whirlwind of activity for him, and the old dog wasn't slacking off either, consistently bringing work home and filling out paperwork when they were together. He had taken to wearing reading glasses around the house which Marc couldn't get enough of. He loved the way they looked and was fascinated by the canine-specific styling. It was also a gateway to giving the dog grief for getting old, which had become his only playful weapon against someone so resilient to teasing.

Busy routines forced them to spend a certain amount of time apart, but they made it work. Marc often spent his free evenings at Wyatt's house since it was larger and more private than his small apartment, despite the fact that it was across town. The mastiff had obviously rubbed off on him as well, much to his own amusement, and Marc found himself less and less concerned about his own nakedness when they were together. Wyatt made it a point to show how much he enjoyed it, though his body often betrayed him before words. A splash of color poking out of a furry sheath was easy to interpret. The two wasted no time being intimate, and a night of passion no longer required a day of rest for Marc. He was more experienced or, "a good trained pup", as Wyatt liked to say.

Marc's consciousness was fickle this early in the morning, and drowsy thoughts wandered to a few weeks ago when he decided to test the waters, so to speak, while the two spent a routine morning in the shower. Marc had been facing away from the mastiff while the dog massaged large paws across his smooth skin. He had turned, pressing up against Wyatt's chest while leaning his own weight against the Canid's larger frame. Wyatt simply readjusted without hesitation, resting his chin on the top of the man's head while his paws dropped back down, continuing their gentle work. Marc turned his head to the side to speak, spitting out some chest fur and water in the process.

"Wyatt, I wanted to ask you something."

Wet ears perked up, but his cleaning didn't stop or falter in the slightest. "Anything, pup."

"We've been doing this for... a while now. We're essentially a couple, but we've never really officially said as much. I know it doesn't really matter..." The paws resting against his back tightened slightly. "...but I wanted to make it official if you do."

Wyatt's paws stopped their gentle ministrations and Marc found himself trapped against wet fur. The warm water washed over each of them, but there was no response from the big dog; Marc could feel each breath from his lover but heard nothing except silence. Wyatt was certainly not one to clam up or be at a loss for words, which was both an endearing and infuriating characteristic, so when he didn't answer Marc began to get worried. He pulled his hands up and placed them on the mastiff's belly, gently pushing away from the warm body and breaking the embrace.

When he looked up, Wyatt was smiling like an idiot, jowls upturned with teeth on display. In the next instant he lurched forward, sliding those large paws underneath Marc's rump and lifting the man up, pushing him back against cold tile and pressing muzzle against lips in a sloppy, fervent kiss. He stayed there for an eternity, fur pressed against skin, breathing heavily into Marc as his sheath swelled and a different kind of heat pressed between the man's legs.

Wyatt continued to grind his hips forward, but pulled his head away, ending up under the stream of water. Marc couldn't help but snicker at the Canid who was still grinning like a fool while the water forced fur down over his eyes.

"Well?" Marc asked.

Wyatt spat water from his muzzle and let out a rumbling, excited growl of "Hell yes!" before leaning back in to steal another kiss.

Marc's attention was brought back into focus as the sunlight shining through his window became too bright to ignore. He rolled over in bed, checking the clock again out of habit. That little daydream had taken him to almost 8 o'clock, and he couldn't ignore the need to tend to morning necessities anymore. He rolled out from under the covers, neglecting the burgeoning stiffness between his legs as he began to get ready for the day.

---

Their phone call was short. Wyatt had to run down to the station in the late morning, but Marcus was “welcome to head over to his place and get comfortable". The Canid closed out the call with a quick lust-filled remark as Marc palmed the house key he'd been entrusted with. He stuffed some last minute clothing and necessities into a fraying old gym bag before heading out into the daylight.

The Jeep was alive and kicking after some TLC from the local garage, but Marcus still drove with an abundance of caution lest the aging vehicle end up in a predicament on the side of the road again. He much preferred when the old Canid swung by in his pickup, with country music crooning out of the windows and A/C that worked like it was supposed to. The ride was about 30 minutes of highway to the other side of town, and was relatively close to his office, which made late night layovers a more common occurrence after long days.

The modest carport was empty as expected, so he directed the groaning vehicle into the space, leaving enough room for Wyatt's truck when it returned. With the small overnight bag slung across his shoulder, Marc hurried into the house, stepping through the laundry room and leaving his shoes at the door. The bag was deposited in the bedroom, pants came off, and he grabbed a large blanket from the bed, wrapping it around his shoulders and taking in a deep breath that smelled distinctly of his boyfriend. He opted to leave his underwear on, having come prepared with a little surprise in the form of a jockstrap that hugged his package and hips tightly. It was an athletic piece, more geared toward support than some of the skimpy scraps of cloth he had come across in his search. The band was more comfortable than he had expected, although he adjusted the rear straps absentmindedly on occasion, not being used to the feeling.

Marc rummaged through the kitchen pantry, selecting a snack before shuffling to the over-sized furniture in the living room and flipping on the television. He bundled up under a blanket and quietly passed the time, waiting for the creak of the door.

Sleep must have overtaken him at some point, because he woke to the sound of rattling keys and the soft thunk of a latch turning. Marc stretched, uncovering partially from the thick blanket and forcing himself to sit up from where he had fallen asleep on the fur-covered couch. The slow return to consciousness was hastened drastically when he realized there were two sets of eyes looking down at him instead of one. Hands grasped furiously at the blanket in a panic as he pulled it back over himself, covering exposed skin.

“Hello again, Marc." The young mastiff in front of him had a slight smirk on his face. “We've really gotta stop meeting like this." There was a small chuckle from behind Jackson as another silhouette stifled her amusement.

“At least you're... mostly dressed," Jackson mused. He continued introductions, ignoring Marc's discomfort. “Marc, this is Jessie. Jessie, Mark." The next few words came out in a mocked whisper. “This is dad's boyfriend." He waved a paw between the two with quick flip. “Do you know when the old man is supposed to be back? I saw his truck wasn't here but was hoping to surprise him."

Marc pulled the blanket tighter around his shoulders, silently chiding himself. Somehow, in all the time he'd been here, he hadn't crossed paths with Wyatt's son again. …he really should have left the pants on.

“He'll be back... um... soon? Didn't give a time, just said he'd be back early afternoon." Marc wanted to grab his phone to see if Wyatt had sent any messages, but it must have been still been in the bedroom.

Jackson's shoulders shrugged and his attention moved from the couch to the kitchen as he walked away with a purpose. Marc heard him rustling through the fridge a moment later.

Jessie offered Marc a good-natured smile and took a seat across from him, crossing her legs and placing over-sized paws in her lap. She had a medium build with luxurious silky fur that shone in the light as she passed by the window to sit. It was an auburn brown that burned red in the sunlight and flowed with movement. It kept Marc entranced while he was trying to determine her lineage up until the moment she spoke in an Irish accent. A Setter, he thought.

“Well met, Marc."

“Uh, nice to meet you too, Jessie." Marc stood quickly, making sure the large blanket stayed wrapped around his body, particularly the lower half. “Would you excuse me for just a moment?"

She smiled gently. “Aye, of course."

Marc shuffled to the bedroom, passing the kitchen on the way and glimpsing Jackson steeping some tea, presumably for Jessie and himself. Once in the bedroom, he draped the blanket over the edge of the bed and quickly found a pair of shorts, practically jumping into them.

Once he felt more comfortable and less exposed, Marc passed back out into the living room to find the pair sipping at warm mugs. He noticed there was an extra cup on the coffee table in front of the couch. His own mug had a rounded edge, while theirs were oddly shaped to him. The mugs had a small lip to them, making it easier to pour a drink into a muzzle instead of pursing lips to sip. Wyatt had bought it recently even though Marc could drink out of the mastiff's own mugs just fine. He accepted the drink and blew on it gently, unsure of what to say to the two Canids. There was a heavy pause before Jessie broke the silence.

“So, what do you do fer a living, Marc?"

“Well, I'm finishing up school to be a physician's assistant. I work over at Dr. Steiner's office right now when I'm not in classes."

She nodded and let out a small “hmm" in response. Jackson had been looking out the window but turned around to join them.

“Do you know Samara Grayson?", he asked. “I think she works over there as well. Ocelot, uh, sorta... loud?" He looked to Jessie as if to get confirmation and she grinned, nodding in agreement while still taking a sip of her drink.

“Yeah, I know Samara. She works reception. If you thinks she's loud normally, you should go out for drinks with her. Fun to hang out with, though." He smiled and took a sip of the drink, finally able to withstand the heat.

It had been too long since he'd just gone out for a fun night out. Usually too busy or too tired to join the crew for after-work drinks, and even if he did, he never really felt in the loop. Despite the fact that most of his co-workers were human, he never really clicked with them in a way that felt sincere. Marc stared down at his own reflection in the murky liquid and wondered if he should try and put himself out there more, get to know the group a little better.

He looked to the company in the room as the thought was swirling around in his brain and noticed their ears twitch almost in unison. A moment later, a familiar rumble could be heard in the driveway before it petered-out and there was a thunk as a truck door closed heavily.

Jessie set her mug down as the door to the carport opened and Wyatt stepped into the laundry room. Marc could hear shuffling and thumping while the normal routine of getting 'comfortable' in his own home was performed. He wondered if the old dog was going to come out completely nude, especially with the current company. He wouldn't put it past him... but surely he saw the cars outside and wouldn't walk in with his sheath swaying while his son's girlfriend was here. Would he be able to smell that Jessie was here? The human realized that he had no idea if that was normal or not in Canid company, but Wyatt hadn't seemed bothered when it was just family before, at least in front of his son.

The question was answered when Wyatt stepped into the living room with a bag in one hand and athletic shorts around his waist. Some company must be off limits then, he thought.

“Hey everyone! To what do I owe the pleasure? And how're you Jessie? You look lovely as ever."

He moved further in to the room, dropping his work bag and leaning over the couch to give Marc a kiss. “And hello to you too, handsome."

Marc accepted the affection with a smile and watched as his boyfriend rounded the couch to sit next to him. Wyatt wasted no space, settling in next to the man intimately and wrapping a large furry arm around his shoulders to pull the two even closer. His other paw waved forward, gesturing to Jackson.

“Sit, sit. Stay a while."

Jackson ignored the request, and instead set his mug down on the table. Jessie stood up next to him, paws clasped neatly, and he put an arm around her.

“Can't stay too long, actually. We're about to head out to dinner with some friends." He looked from Jessie to his father and even a quick glance at Marc. Wyatt's eyebrows raised and Marc could feel a tenseness creep into the fur and muscle beside him. The mastiff also inhaled sharply. Was he trying to smell something? Nails pressed into his skin where Wyatt had wrapped an arm around him, but luckily they were filed down short and stubby due to... personal reasons.

Jackson smiled. “Jessie's not pregnant, dad."

There was a long exhale as the older Canid deflated into the couch. Marc couldn't help but laugh as his body was pulled down in tandem. Wyatt must have realized he still didn't know what was going on, because he was suddenly back to sitting up and giving full attention to the pair. Marc just tried to avoid the whiplash.

“Oh lord, don't do that to me. You know I would'a been overjoyed, but you two don't need to be worryin' over pups right now, and your mother would have had a heart attack," he said.

The two standing Canids exchanged looks and Jessie finally let her arms fall apart, revealing a faint glimmer from the paw that had been covered. It came from a ring that Marc hadn't noticed before. He had been too worried about his own appearance, apparently.

“...but we are getting married."

Marc offered a quick “Congratulations!" but was cut off as Wyatt leapt off the couch in a whirlwind of fur, leaving a stunned and jostled human behind in his wake. He let out a sort of bark/whine of excitement that Marc had never heard before as he embraced the two of them, tail wagging ferociously.

When the commotion waned, Wyatt bounced back.

“When did this happen? When's the wedding? Jessie, you know you can say no, right? Oh, that just a joke. Your mother is going to faint, Jackson."

Marc excused himself quietly while Wyatt was overloading them with questions and comments, sneaking away to the bedroom to give them their space. Even though he didn't know Wyatt's son very well, it was impossible not to feel the happiness wafting from his partner.

He laid across Wyatt's bed on his stomach, checking emails and notifications on his phone for a bit until the conversation died down and goodbyes were said. Shortly thereafter, the front door opened and closed, signaling that the engaged couple had departed. Marc heard Wyatt enter the bedroom a moment later and glanced over at the dog who had wasted no time in shedding the shorts.

Wyatt crossed the room and crawled up on the bed over his partner. Marc set his phone down and was about to turn over until Wyatt pinned him down, laying on top of him. He snuffled around the back of the man's neck before letting out a sigh.

“I really needed that today. Been dealing with some bullshit at work that had me in a sour mood," he said. “Why didn't you stick around, pup? Something wrong?" There was a quiet concern in his voice.

Marc let out a breath and inhaled deeply despite the weight on top of him.

“I didn't want to interrupt your moment with your son. I'm not really a part of that, and figured it would be better if you two had the time to yourselves." He thought for a moment. “I like Jessie. She seems quiet, but nice."

Wyatt nuzzled into his neck. “Like someone else I know. And is that really what's bothering you? You missed Jackson telling me he was excited to see us at the wedding."

“Wait, us?"

“Yes, us," the Canid replied. “He expects us to be at the wedding. Now, what's going on?"

Marc pocketed that comment for a later discussion and sighed. “It's just been a long week. Something Jackson said made me realize I haven't gone out and just relaxed with friends in a while. Not even sure what most of them are up to, to be honest, and I'm just... tired of being tired."

Wyatt ground his hips forward then lifted himself up momentarily, pulling down Marc's shorts. He let out a quick breath when a bare ass greeted him and leaned down again, resting his sheath between the man's cheeks and breathing heavily.

“Jockstrap, huh?" He nibbled at Marc's ear. “Remember the first time you came over here? The night of that big storm?"

Marc nodded as the larger male ground against him, already leaking a slick liquid onto his skin.

“You were overworked and underfucked then, and it seems, maybe, that's the case now. We should get you out with your friends more and away from this old geezer. It'll be good for you. Tonight though, I think I have a solution to both those other problems."

Marc couldn't help but moan quietly as a slick tapered tip continuously ground against him, forcing itself between the cleft and against tender, needy skin.

“We've gone through quite a bit of our list at this point, but there's still things to try, if you want." A canid tongue licked across his neck and Marc's skin erupted in goosebumps. “I think we should go out tonight. You and me. Maybe..." A light glinted in the mastiff's eyes that Marc couldn't see. “...we can give you a new experience."

Marc pushed back against Wyatt who had wrapped his arms around the man. The mastiff's cock slid back and forth between his bare cheeks, lubricating the motion with clear, beady excitement that spilled from him freely. He hit the mark and the tapered tip teased against tender flesh, threatening to invade him with a possessive intensity.

Wyatt growled, “Oh, pup..." while pressuring that entrance but never fully committing. Marc was pushing back, trying to force the Canid inside him, but never quite succeeding as his prize was pulled away. Wyatt slid backwards and off the bed, erection bouncing and dripping in anticipation as he stepped away. Marc rolled over, confused, and was met with a wink.

Suddenly, there was a knock on the front door and the harsh chime of a doorbell echoed through the home. Wyatt's head swiveled toward the door before turning back to give his nearly naked boyfriend a quizzical look.

“You know who that is?"

Marc just shrugged. “It's your house, dork. Did Jackson forget something?"

The big dog didn't respond and instead pulled the previously discarded shorts up around his waist. The soft fabric did little to hide the tent in the front and a small wet spot appeared quickly, darkening the fabric. Marc slid off the bed as well, donning his shorts and wrapping the blanket around his shoulders again. The two left the bedroom and split, Marc heading toward the kitchen while Wyatt moved instead to the front door. There was another knock and Wyatt adjusted himself, grumbling.

“I'm comin', I'm comin'!"

He opened the door to a portly badger who peered at the half-clad mastiff through readers that sat over bold stripes down his muzzle. Sweat stains darkened a button up shirt that clung to his fur and an overflowing briefcase with several manila envelopes was tucked under one arm. He snorted.

“Wyatt." The badger's gaze swept from head to toe and he lingered briefly at the slowly receding tent in the shorts, nostril's flaring slightly. “I hope I haven't interrupted any important stress relief or nothin'." He paused before continuing. “I need your help with some of this paperwork before tomorrow. You left before I could get a hold of you and haven't been answerin' your phone. I didn't wanna disturb your evenin', but it was made very clear to me this shit needs to be wrapped up by the morning, and it's on you 'n me."

His expression softened somewhat and he raised the paw that wasn't holding the briefcase, showing off a 12 pack of beer as if in apology.

“This can't really wait, hoss, and I need your help. Sorry."

Wyatt let out a sigh and swung the door open the rest of the way, inviting his guest in without words. The badger hefted the case of beer into the mastiff's chest, freeing up a paw and trundling into the house. Marc had walked back into the living room, blanket still draped over his bare shoulders and a glass of water in hand. He met the badger's gaze and nodded a greeting. Wyatt's coworker unloaded the paperwork onto the coffee table and straightened up again, adjusting his glasses.

Marc had been headed for the couch, but he stopped to greet the newcomer. “Uh, hello."

Their guest looked from Wyatt to Marc, then back to Wyatt.

“Ahhh. Now I see why you're answering the door with your cock standin' at attention. Guess I did interrupt. Sorry again, boys."

Despite the apology, he continued to arrange the documents and re-positioned himself in front of the couch, unbuttoned his pants with a sigh of relief, and sat back with a grunt. He gestured toward himself with a quick wave. “Don't be stingy now, chuck me a beer, loverboy."

Wyatt complied and pulled out a beer, tossing it to the badger who caught it easily. There was a crack and a faint hiss of carbonation sounded in the air. He took a large swig before turning his attention to the paperwork with drink in hand. Wyatt made introductions.

“Marc, this is Jim. We work at the precinct together, and I've known this old cur far too many years. Jim, this is Marc, my boyfriend."

The old badger's eyebrows lifted, stretching his features and elongating the stripes. He looked back at Marc briefly.

“I heard you were seein' someone. He's... cute? I suppose, if you're into that." He turned back around, seemingly uninterested in the two lovers and unaware the backward compliment. “Guess I can see why you smelled like you were ready to bury your bone earlier. Must need a lotta lube." He grunted and adjusted himself quickly without looking up from the papers, but paused a moment later. “Or does he get under your tail?" There was a follow-up grunt. “Doesn't matter."

Marc's cheeks flushed red at the comment and he looked to Wyatt, who simply rolled his eyes with a mischievous grin. The two held their silent conversation a moment longer before Jim looked up to scrutinize them both.

“Yeah, he's a big 'ole show off. Damn Canids. Mac's never gonna live down that little measurin' contest he lost. Won't even use the precinct's showers anymore, not that anyone but the young'ns gives a fuck. We're all old, fat, an' saggy anyways." He took another large swig of beer.

“Speak for yourself, pudgy. My body is a temple." Wyatt shot back. It earned a disbelieving grunt from the body on the couch and a set of rolling eyes from the human nearby. The mastiff continued, “And you got in on that contest too, Jim. Don't forget." Wyatt said with a chuckle.

“Yeah, well, not like my average prick is getting' used anyways. My ex wife thought my paw was plenty sufficient. I can't even remember the last time I..." He sighed. “Might as well be vestigial at this point, for all the good it does me. Go change your shorts so I don't have to smell your sex, Wyatt. Then come help."

The mastiff set the pack of beer down next to the badger and Marc snapped back into motion as Wyatt walked past him, swinging an arm around his shoulders. They entered the bedroom with the big dog following closely after. Wyatt rummaged in a drawer briefly before pulling out another pair of loose athletic shorts, but he didn't don them yet. Instead, he stripped down and squeezed his sheath gently, pooling clear liquid at the tip from the tool that had been previously teased but not dealt with.

“He's a grumpy old bastard, and he can wait a minute. Why don't you come over here and lick this clean so Jim'll stop ridin' my ass." He grinned, obviously still in the mood. Marc gave him a look of reproach, and shook his head in disbelief but still lent forward, kissing the exposed tip and licking away the natural lubricant. The hidden flesh throbbed in it's pouch with anticipation, and he looked up to see the big dog grinning wildly down at him.

“I HAVE EARS, AND YOU ONLY WISH I WAS INTERESTED IN YOUR ASS. GET IN HERE."

Wyatt burst out laughing and pulled Marc up to full height before leaning down to kiss him on the lips. “Sorry, love, I guess duty calls. You're welcome to hang in here, or join us in the living room if you want." He paused on the way out and turned back. “I guess the night out'll have to wait. We'll make it happen."

With that, he pulled on the new pair of shorts, re-adjusted himself again, and disappeared. Wyatt didn't bother to put on any additional clothes before leaving, but Marc figured it wouldn't have bothered Jim. Seemed like the old badger had a good understanding of how the Canid operated, and they had been around each other enough to be comfortable. Maybe Jim was similar in some ways while in his own home, but as the only human, Marc's experience was limited.

He stayed in the bedroom for a while, attempting to give the two room to work, but boredom crept in quickly. He was a little disappointed that the jock-strap he had worn to get a rise out of Wyatt had been wasted as the afternoon turned into evening. The sounds of shuffling papers, generic conversation, and the 'pshh' of cans being opened occasionally floated through the house, but as the night wore on, it became apparent the work was more than just completing a few documents.

Since Wyatt never reappeared in the bedroom, Marc eventually pulled himself away from the mattress and covers to go check on the two in the living room. He pulled on a pair of shorts and stepped quietly, but there was no hiding his footsteps from keen ears, and he was greeted with a warm smile from the old dog and a chuff of acknowledgment from the even older badger.

Wyatt motioned him over. “Hey pup, we're pretty much done. Come join us."

When Marc came around the couch he could see the beer cans that had been killed lying in a defeated heap at the base of the sofa. Wyatt had a few on his own side, but the majority of them littered the badgers feet, well over half, and he could tell there was a significant amount of inebriation lining Jim's face. The pudgy badger had sunk back into the couch and he resumed a story he had been well into when Marc came into the room.

“...tha new kid. Whas his name? Bryson? Thinks his shit don't stink, but I tell you what, he's gonna end up getting the snot beat outta him if he keeps disrespectin' those of us that've built the foundation. Ain't no place for that, an if he takes it out into the street he's gonna get his shit kicked in for it in a bad way."

Wyatt motioned again for the young man to join him; Marc originally tried to slide in next to the mastiff, but he was quickly repositioned by large paws pulling him into the Canid's lap. He was held tightly,and could smell the faint hint of booze hanging in the breath of both males. Jim's was stronger. Wyatt nibbled on his ear, completely unconcerned with the company, but for once Marc didn't mind it. If the mastiff's guests and family didn't care, why should he? Didn't seem fair for for him to be the only one embarrassed. He listened to the badger's story having no idea who they were talking about until the rant slowed to a crawl.

Jim chugged the last of the beer in his hand and reached for another, only to find the box was empty. His eyes scanned the floor once more for any that may have been missed, but it was no use. With a huff, he sat up slowly and stood before looking down at the two entwined bodies.

“Well, I think this shit's done for the night. I'ma head out and leave these papers with you, hoss. Bring it in in the morning, we'll sort it and submit it."

With that he turned, but the movement was a little too quick and Jim faltered. Marc jumped out of his boyfriend's lap and caught the badger by the arm before he took a tumble. The stout body leaned against him and Marc had to put his full weight into the support. Jim wasn't light.

Wyatt followed quickly after. “Jim, why don't you stay here tonight. Get comfy and sleep on the couch. You can't be drivin' anywhere right now." Wyatt stood between his guest and the door, and Jim looked back and forth between the two of them.

“Y'all got some fuckin' to do and I don't wanna get in the way of that." He said matter-of-factly. Jim took another step forward and swayed heavily, managing to balance himself without additional support, but realizing that maybe he wasn't going to make it past the mastiff in this condition. He sighed and turned back to the couch.

Wyatt guided him. “There you go, bud. Like I said, get comfy, and we'll do the same. Let's turn the TV on and chill for a bit. You can sleep on the couch tonight." The big Canid turned to Marc. “Would you mind grabbin' some water?"

Marc made his way to the kitchen and filled two glasses, one for Jim, and another for himself and Wyatt. When he returned, Jim was in the process of taking off his shirt, and the unbuttoned slacks followed shortly after. What remained was a stout badger with a beer gut that hung over his white briefs. The contents beneath were noticeable, but not distracting, and a hefty paw scratched at his bulge absentmindedly before he sat down heavily into the cushions. Marc handed him the glass and turned to Wyatt who stepped out of his shorts and sat down as well. He patted his lap.

Jim glanced over but didn't linger. “See? Complete showoff."

Wyatt gave the badger a single finger waggle in response. “It's my house. You can keep those whitey-tighties on or take em off." He thought for a moment. “Maybe you'd be less of a grump if you let your boys breath every once in a while. It's good to spend some time in just your fur." His gaze turned to Marcus next. “You though... I think you should take those shorts off so I can admire the very thing I wasn't allowed to admire earlier."

Marc looked over to Jim who was in the drunken process of contemplating his briefs. With a snort, his belly lifted slightly and he shucked them off his legs. “Ain't something I do much, but I suppose I don't mind the company." His fur had a unique striped pattern to it, and between his thighs was an impressive set of fuzzy nuts with a relatively short but thick sheath above them. Once the grunting ball of fur got the underwear off, he held them up and tossed them at Wyatt's head before turning to the young man in front of him.

“Don't mind me, kid. I've been to Vegas with this bastard. Ain't nothin' I haven't seen." He snorted. “But if I'm staying, I'm keeping my ass firmly planted here."

Jim had just given Marc a choice, even without saying it directly, and he didn't miss it. Either he could encourage Wyatt to head back to the bedroom where they could finish what had been started earlier in the day, or he could stay out here and have an audience. Wyatt watched with eyebrows raised expectantly, his own preference seemingly made clear. Jim simply sank deeper into the sofa while Marc took a moment to make up his mind. His body buzzed with excitement at the prospect, something he never would have considered previously, and it helped that this was someone his mastiff knew and trusted as well. He didn't believe Wyatt would allow this to happen otherwise.

Next thing he knew, Marc was sliding the shorts off and leaving them next to the beer cans. His own package was held tightly by the jockstrap, but it was misshapen, bulging through the stretchy fabric where his own erection was betraying his decision on the matter.

“On or off?" He asked. Marc was facing Wyatt, but he knew the badger's eyes were keenly locked onto his body. He hadn't really felt this way before. It was powerful and sexy... and fun.

“On." Wyatt and Jim turned to look at each other as they both spoke at the same time. Wyatt broke out into a laugh while the drunk badger shrugged.

“Jim, I didn't know you had an appreciation for this sorta thing." He let out a playful growl that Marc felt rumble in his own chest. “Should I be jealous?"

The badger sighed and fumbled with his limp sheath. “Hey, you're the one encouraging him. I said I wasn't gonna leave this spot, and I haven't had anything to look at but a computer screen for too damn long. He's got a better body than we do, hoss." He paused. “And fuck it. I'm drunk." There was an almost sheepish expression now, one that didn't really suit the old striped mustelid, as if the excuse was for his own sake. The portly badger was drunk, yes, but while he swayed a bit when he walked, he wasn't struggling with slurring his words or paying attention, that was for sure.

Wyatt turned his attention back to the young man standing in nothing but a jockstrap. His expression just barely changed, keeping a flirty smile with a serious undertone to his voice. He asked one question. “This OK?"

Marc didn't hesitate for once. Instead, he moved forward, crawling onto the mastiff's lap and straddling his legs. He sat down heavily onto the already thickening sheath beneath him, allowing it, no, forcing it to grind against his cheeks. He leaned forward and kissed Wyatt on the nose.

There was a sharp intake of breath beside them. A quiet “fuck" was the only thing he heard from the badger before two large, warm, furry arms wrapped around him as the hips beneath him drove upwards. He felt the smooth glistening tip of his boyfriend push between his cheeks and knew there would be more to come. Wyatt's muzzle pressed into the crook of his neck and breathed in deeply as his arms slid down Marc's back slowly until they cupped his ass. They squeezed and kneaded, pulling apart his cheeks as the tapered tip beneath explored the crevice.

Marc took in a sharp breath this time. He wasn't unaware of the extra body in the room, he just didn't care right now. The mastiff's paws pushed and pulled, massaging the skin while they were pressed together tightly. He tried to push closer to Wyatt, forcing as much contact as possible between their bodies while he rode the Canid's hips. In doing so, he felt a wetness spread across his chin and leaned back slightly. Wyatt was drooling at this point. His tongue was out and he was panting in his lust. Their eyes met and Wyatt stopped briefly, one hand pulling away from it's vice-grip on his ass. He brought it up to his mouth and wiped away some of the drool. There would be no apology, Marc knew. The old dog was viciously horny, and Marc was sure he would get exactly what he wanted in short order.

There was a rumble from Wyatt's chest as he pulled the paw away from his muzzle. Marc felt the cool spit as that paw wrapped back underneath him. Wyatt pulled him back in close and leaned in to his ear, giving it a loving bite. He whispered, “Moan for me, pup."

A quick swipe of the drool across his hole was all he got before two-digits pressed in firmly and forced their way inside. Marc gasped and did exactly as he was told – he would have anyway, but Wyatt's command was powerful in it's own right. His cock, hidden under the stretchy fabric, jumped, throbbing against the mastiff's belly fur and leaking a wet stain into the white material. Those two fingers danced inside of him, gliding smoothly with the spit that was applied and pressing into his walls. It wasn't painful, their regular activities saw to that, but there was a renewed vigor here, and it was all Marc could do to ride them. He pressed his head down onto Wyatt's shoulder as the fingers provided stimulation from beneath. They pushed in and out, working down to the knuckle and back. The only sounds in the room was the heavy breathing from both of them and the “schlik" as those digits slid in and out of the increasingly desperate human.

Marc was lost in the feeling but heard the quiet “holy shit" beside them and turned his head to look at Jim who was much more alert now. The badger had a hand on his cock, stroking feverishly against the skin that was now fully exposed from its sheath. The tip glistened, lubricated thoroughly with excitement and anticipation. While the length was normal, particularly in comparison to his boyfriend, Jim's paw made it all the way around... just barely. Marc pondered briefly how in the world that thick rod had been hiding inside of it's casing before shutting his eyes and grunting. Even though the badger was sitting back, the heavy orbs beneath him bounced against his thighs with wild abandon, creating another lewd sound in the room that the young man just now recognized.

Wyatt's gaze turned as well, but his paw continued without interruption. Marc heard a faint, “hmm". His fully hard cock was swaying with the motion, but with the nearest warm entrance blocked, it simply hung and drooled in it's own way, dampening the cushions beneath them. The mastiff leaned in again, pressing his muzzle to the side of Marc's head, tongue lapping at his ear lobe, words coming out in a whisper.

“Do you trust me?"

Marc closed his eyes, focusing on his breathing and the sensations inside of his body. Of course he did. What kind of question was that? No words came out, but he nodded his head, blissfully riding the fingers inside of him.

“I need you to say it, pup. Yes, and we try new things. No is alright too, just means I fuck a litter into you instead."

Marc moaned loudly before the word came out: “Yes!" With that, the paw pulled away, leaving an empty feeling inside of his body, one that he desperately wanted to fill with something else. Wyatt leaned back and brought the young man upright again, letting him rest on top of the swollen cock beneath him. The old dog licked him once on the cheek, then pushed him back slowly, forcing Marc to stand up again in front of the couch. Wyatt adjusted slightly, turning his body slightly and leaning back onto the arm of the couch. One leg was pulled up underneath him, and the other hung lazily. He didn't touch his own throbbing erection, but it bounced slightly in the steady rhythm of his own heartbeat.

Jim's paw slowed, still gripping himself, but no longer stroking. Pre-cum dripped lazily from the tip, unnoticed by the badger. He and Marc were somewhat confused at the sudden change, and they both looked at Wyatt together, the mustelid with an eyebrow raised, and the man with a curious expression.

“I know you prefer the ladies, Jim, but I'm willing to share. I know it's been a while."

With that, both striped eyebrows went up, and Marc could see wheels start turning in the badger's mind. Wyatt wanted Jim to fuck him? There was also a different air about the mastiff right now, one Marc hadn't really seen except for on a few rare occasions. He thought back to the day in Wyatt's truck when the mastiff had been a little more domineering than before. Was he going to enjoy simply watching? Obviously he hadn't minded having an audience, but this was something else entirely. This was...

“There will be rules. You have free reign, but no claws, no teeth, and you need to be OK with me joining in. If I or Marc says stop, we stop."

“I don't want you anywhere near my tailhole." ..obviously the wheels had stopped turning and he had arrived at his destination. Hell, the parking brake was on. Jim no longer seemed drunk, this temporary faux sobriety a side effect of the endorphins and oxytocin currently flooding his brain.

“I'll only touch Marc." Wyatt promised. He turned to look at his boyfriend. “Still OK?"

Marc nodded. He was still breathing heavily.

“Very good. Now, suck Jim's cock, pup."

He following the command willingly, moving away from Wyatt's side of the couch and positioning himself in front of the wide-eyed badger. Marc sunk to his knees and gently pushed those thick legs apart to give himself space to work. Jim's expression was golden at this point: excited but slightly confused at his own willingness to partake. He peered down over his own belly and Marc smiled as he gently peeled the paw away, it's firm grip still holding on tightly and unable to catch up to the moment. He opened his mouth and slid over the badger completely, pressing forward until his nose touched fur. The length was manageable, but he realized that the girth might require a slower approach or his jaw would get sore.

The absolutely feral bellow that erupted from Jim was all the motivation he needed as Marc pulled back to the tip, licking it gently before diving down again. Paws gripped the cushions with a desperate intensity as the badger's breathing leveled out. The tongue sliding over his cock worked effortlessly, gliding along the underside to lap up the excess pre-cum that had coated the entire length.

“Oh, fuck darlin' I haven't had a blowjob in YEARS. I'm gonna give your pussy a load that's way overdo."

It was Wyatt's turn to raise an eyebrow and Jim caught the expression before looking back down at the head bobbing on his cock.

“I mean. Not pussy. But, well. You know. IT'S BEEN A WHILE. FUCK."

Marc picked up the pace now, pushing his lips tightly over the cock head in one direction and releasing some of the pressure as he came back up. He could taste the pungent pre-cum that was being released with every motion.

“Tug on my nuts, dar- ...boy."

Marc slid his arms between Jim's legs. He could feel the heat radiating from between them, it was a warmth that only existed that close to skin and fur. He used both hands, a necessity really, to grip the giant pendulum beneath the cock he was tasting, a warm and heavy pouch filled with the future load he was going to be receiving. Fingers wrapped around the base and pulled gently as lips dove downward again, forehead pressing against the belly fur of the beast above him as he tasted someone new.

The body surrounding him rumbled with a happy vibration and a heavy paw came down on his head, forcing his mouth down again against the thick musk of the badger. Marc inhaled deeply through his nose as he was held there. His body shuddered and his cock twitched.

“Pull harder, boy!"

Marc pulled again, massaging the entire sack tightly and pulling down under his chin, the only direction he could go. This time there was a guttural growl above him, and Jim's legs tightened around his head and shoulders, trapping him between them. He could feel the pulsing of the thick cock between his lips and tasted the silky liquid liquid out of it into the back of his throat. He knew the true release was imminent, and he took another deep breath through his nose, eyes rolling back slightly as he inhaled in a foreign scent, but one that was driving him wild. Clear liquid dripped through the jockstrap now, no longer able to just soak into the fabric.

Jim tensed one more time, and Marc reaffirmed his grip. The slight adjustment broke whatever floodgates were holding back the tide and the steady throb turned into a pulsing torrent as thick, pungent seed filled his mouth. Marc swallowed as much as he could, throat clenching while his mouth was stretched wide around the badger meat that he was forced onto. The paw pressed firmly in response, requiring him to stay against fur as the badger came with wild abandon inside of the man between his legs. Marc needed to breath, but Jim was too busy spurting out his pent-up load into the warm vessel beneath him. Unable to take much more, the young man released his grip which seemed to send a message. The paw loosened, the legs opened up, and Marc pulled away quickly, sputtering. Two additional ropes of cum hit him in the cheeks as he pulled away, swallowing hard.

He rolled back and sat on his heels, taking in deep breaths and trying to swallow down everything that had been pumped into him. He was floating right now, experiencing a high that he had found in his initial encounters with Wyatt, but this was unique in it's own way. And Wyatt was watching and enjoying it! The pause was enough to bring the mastiff up from the couch as well, moving closer to Marc and pulling him up to his feet. The Canid's cock was still rock hard, and it pressed against his bare stomach as the old dog leaned down to lick away the excess release from his face.

“Well done." He smiled that big goofy grin that only Wyatt could pull off and the high continued for Marc.

“Now I think it's my turn to enjoy my boyfriend. There's more where that came from. We're gonna fill you so full you won't want breakfast or dinner tomorrow."

“Hold up."

Wyatt and Marc both turned to look at the badger who grunted as he stood from the couch. He was hard again. Already.

“I'm not done yet. I told you, it's been a while."

Wyatt looked back down at Marc and grinned again before licking him once more across the cheek and stepping back. His cock bounced as he moved, still dripping copiously and ready to breed, but the Canid apparently had a newfound patience.

Jim stood in front of Marc now, close to equal height, although definitely heftier in form. His shadow dwarfed the young man.

“Get down on all fours, boy. If we doin' this, we ain't doin' it in half measures." He turned to Wyatt and added, “And did you really just lick my cum off of him? Hmph."

Wyatt just laughed. “In that case, why don't you go to the bed? I can clean the sheets easier than I can clean the couch. I didn't know you had that much stored in you, old man."

Jim just grunted and adjusted his glasses, not feeling the need to repeat himself again.

Marc smiled at the badger and grabbed his paw. Jim tensed up suddenly but relaxed when the grip began pulling him toward the bedroom. Wyatt sauntered after the two of them. When they entered the room, their hands parted, but Marc felt a pressure on his shoulders as two paws nudged him forward to the edge of the bed. He let them guide him, climbing up on the mattress as a heavy weight followed close behind him. Wyatt instead walked up to the head of the bed and sat against the pillows, back pressed up against the head rest with legs splayed in front of Marc.

“We ain't gonna make eye-contact while I'm fuckin' him are we?" Jim asked.

Wyatt snorted. “I just licked your spunk off his face, Jim. I think we're past that. And in any case, I thought I was finally gonna get to fuck my boyfriend, but you apparently want to jump the line, so we're compromising." Wyatt responded. He waved Marc forward and gripped the base of his cock, knot swelling slightly with the attention. The next words were specifically for Marc. “I know your mouth is probably tired from that tree trunk, but I want to feel your tongue on my cock, pup."

He happily obliged and leaned down on all fours, the mattress a much more comfortable support than the floor or couch would have been. Marc kept his ass up in the air and even wiggled it around, taunting the portly badger a little as he buried his face into Wyatt's fur and scent and sex. The mastiff's cock was dripping with pre-cum at this point and he gently began licking from the base of the sheath up to the tip, cleaning it and coating it with his own spit. Suddenly, he felt a paw between his cheeks, teasing the space and testing his tight ring that was aching to feel something again.

“Your boy got a tight ass?" Rumbled the badger. Spit landed high between his cheeks and a thick digit swiped through it, dragging it down to where it needed to be. He pressed gently, testing the lube and mixing it with the drool Wyatt had left behind.

“Tight as a glove."

“Hmph."

Marc had wrapped his lips around the tip of Wyatt's cock when the thick tip of Jim's own rod slid between his cheeks. Despite being a new experience for the badger, it found it's mark immediately, and he was forced forward, driving Wyatt's cock down his throat while his ass was filled suddenly. He groaned and was relieved that Wyatt's fingers had been in him earlier, or that would have been painful.

The badger pressed to the hilt with no second thought and stopped. Marc pulled himself off of the mastiff and took a couple deep breaths while Jim did the same. He was leaning over the young man, mounted completely with his gut pressed against lower back and balls firmly against backside.

Paws reached forward, supporting the badger's weight on Marc's shoulders. He groaned in pleasure, unable to get out more than, “Fuuuuuuuuuuuuck."

Wyatt placed a paw under the man's chin and lifted it slightly. “Good boy."

Marc moaned heavily and tried to continue his attention on his boyfriend, but Jim began thrusting and it was all he could do to focus. He dropped his head instead and buried his face between the Canid's legs, nose pressed against a warm sack that inundated his senses with the only thing that mattered right now: Wyatt. The thick cock in front of him bounced with the motions, tapping gently against his head as the badger forced his body into Wyatt with each push. Marc whimpered as that thick cock spread open his passage then pulled back. The sensation was constant, and unlike Wyatt, there was no real taper to provide slight relief with each movement outward. He was stretched open for every moment, every thrust of the heavy badger bearing down on him.

Jim growled over his body, tensing and relaxing with each movement. The room smelled of his musk: it was heady and thick, becoming more and more apparent as the old beast, who had been sweaty when he arrived, worked up a exertion and his breathing intensified. There wasn't going to be any changing of positions, any cuddling or kissing. This was an exercise in drunken pent up energy and nothing was going to change until he did exactly what he intended to do: breed the body beneath him. Marc's form lurched as that rod continued to hammer away at his backside. He continually tried to keep up his ministrations on Wyatt, but always fell short as he was assaulted with sensation: spit dripping on his back from the ferocious badger inside of him, paws gripping and pulling at skin with a need to feel release, the bouncing and smacking of that heavy sack hitting his backside with a desire to empty completely.

Jim's pace quickened, his legs tightening against Marc's body as the orbs crashing into him began to pull up again. Marc's arms moved up, wrapping around Wyatt's waist in a tight embrace as the intensity grew. The big dog's paws gripped his arms tightly as he took it all, and Marc could hear him talking over his own moaning. The coordination of the thrusts behind him and the body above him was too much, and Marc came heavily, seed dripping through the fabric and landing below him as he moaned into a mess of Wyatt's fur.

“Good boy. That's it, take it. Take his load, pup. Keep going. Very good."

There was another growl, the same announcement of what was to come, just like before. Jim rolled forward, body slumping over Marc, muzzle next to Wyatt's own throbbing cock but hardly able to realize where he was at the moment. His hips continued to buck forward in that position as his cock began to twitch and release whatever hadn't been fired down Marc's throat before. The weight and motion forced Marc even more firmly against Wyatt, who continued to whisper in his ear. He felt the tightness of badger's muscles and the pulsing of the cock that was filling him from the opposite end. Much like before, Jim seemed to have a lot to give, grunting and groaning with each pulse, body staying where it was as he deposited everything for a second time. Eventually, the grunting subsided. He pulled his hips back gently, then pressed forward a few more times weakly, milking the remaining seed from his body into it's eager host. When he was finally done, he pulled away and unceremoniously laid down next to the two lovers, panting heavily and trying to regain his faculties. Wyatt ignored it and let him lay there.

The mastiff pet his head gently.

Marc leaned against the warm fur, legs wet from spit and cum, but as content as he ever could be in this situation. They stayed there for a moment before Wyatt gently moved, resetting the pillows behind him and flipping the young man's body on his back. He leaned over Marc, cocks pressed together as he kissed him deeply, pressing muzzle to lips, licking, sniffing, and nuzzling against Marc. He moved slowly, removing the soiled jockstrap, sliding his knees up close to the body beneath him, and finally gripping the man's ankles and lifting them up. His member was at full attention, and he set Marc's legs over his shoulders, not even holding himself to guide it into place. He pushed forward, tapered tip sliding in slowly, assisted only by mess that had been left there from moments before.

Wyatt's nose lifted toward the sky as he buried himself gradually, and he let out a happy rumble, finally able to do exactly what he had been waiting for all night. He inhaled heavily, and Marc watched him with a smile as he pushed in deeply before sliding back out. His movements matched his breathing, slow and steady. Whereas the other two were still catching their breath, the Canid was rock solid. He was firm, but not overbearing. Marc knew he would have been able to handle it if Wyatt had been a little rougher, but this was exactly what he needed. It was perfect.

Marc had been watching Wyatt lovingly while the old dog started to fuck him, but for this, he closed his eyes. His senses were overwhelmed with the smell of badger and mastiff, his body was in heaven, although there was a subtle ache after the breeding he had already received. He let himself relax and feel his boyfriend fill him. In and out, a subtle push with increased pressure then a release as it pulled away. The rhythm was hypnotic and he relished the gentle gliding as Wyatt's cock slid through the seed that Jim had left behind. Despite the rough and utilitarian nature of Jim's release, it was something that made this all the more pleasurable to experience. Hips pressed into his backside, fur warmed his skin, and Wyatt took his time to feel every inch of heat that Marc provided as the man's tight passageway massaged his throbbing cock.

Eventually, Wyatt's pace quickened, but his intensity stayed much the same. He began to press his knot firmly against the entrance that was remarkably compliant now. At one point, he slid unexpectedly in with a gasp and in his surprise he pulled back, popping out again. He looked down at Marc, grinning. “Oh, we're gonna do that more." He got an affirmative moan of pleasure, and they laughed as he forced himself all the way in again. The old dog practically whined in ecstasy. It didn't take much longer until his body tensed and he was ready to empty himself in Marc. His knot slid in, tight muscle welcoming it as it closed around the overwhelmingly thick skin, providing pressure and heat, and he leaned forward. The mastiff kissed Marc deeply and passionately as he grunted and began to spill his pent up release inside of the man. It was forceful and filling, and Marc relished the sensation of that knot swollen inside of him while he felt Wyatt's heartbeat in every pulse of his affection.

When he was done, Wyatt stayed there, lodged inside his lover as Marc breathed a sigh of relief. He was worn out but happy, unable to speak but he didn't need to. The man was hard again, a testament to the attention his body had received, and he closed his eyes in bliss while his lover hovered over him and their bodies were connected. Their chests rose and fell in tandem, neither one wanting to break the moment. Marc closed his eyes again and simply used his other senses to feel his boyfriend.

Suddenly, he felt Wyatt tense inside him and... was he getting hard again? There was a quiet, “Uh.." from the mastiff before a warm cavern closed around his length. He opened his eyes to find Jim fully recovered, leaning over his belly with a muzzle engulfing his cock and suckling at it gently. There was obvious inexperience behind the motions, but he was at least being careful. The badger lifted his head briefly and looked at the two of them.

“Not a word of this to anyone. It's just been a while, OK?"