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Part I

Sometimes when I'm too many drinks in, I remember that summer. I was 20, coming back home to help my parents on the farm while school was out. And hell, even though manual labor ranked about dead last on my list of how I wanted to spend those months, I'm glad I did. Some real you'll-never-guess-what-happened kinda bullshit, but damn, this one's worth the click.

Enter me, only two weeks ago having officially shrugged off my teenager status. Driving up the dirt road to the old farm, miles away from the nearest town-if you could call a cluster of homes around a general store a town. Barely June and even in my truck with the AC running, I'm sweatin' like a whore in church. Thinking, you really screwed the pooch when you agreed to this. Well, too late to back out now.

I pull up to the house and kill the engine, but I wait a moment before getting out. Even though I visited for Christmas, the house seems so much older now. I notice the chipping blue paint on the shutters, the rust on the gutters. Surrounded by fields of grain that undulate in the summer breeze. Pastoral and poetic as fuck, right? I squeeze my eyes shut and brace myself for it-when I open the truck door my nose is immediately assailed by the all-too-familiar aroma of cattle manure. Whatever possessed my parents, then just two young coyotes, to start raising "four-legger" livestock, I'll never understand. What I can tell you, though, is that it's a hell of a lot harder to become noseblind to things with a canine nose. So, eau de cow shit, 24/7. Literally never gets old.

Gravel crunches under my bare feet as I start up toward the house, but something catches my eye. A car parked out by the barn I don't recognize. A Dodge Charger maybe? Red, looks a few years old. Can't be Pa's, he'd never replace that old piece of shit truck he drives. On autopilot, wondering if Ma might have finally got her own car, I walk straight into the door and fall flat on my ass. Only when I look up, I'm horrified to see it isn't the door, but a tiger. He's holding the screen door open, looking down at me with a boyish smirk on his face. He looks about my age-a bit taller than me-but I can tell he's not from around here by the way his clothes are just a bit too nice. Graphic tee, distressed jeans, even a bit of cologne, something woodsy and dark and stuck in my nose thanks to my close encounter.

"Hey," he says, not moving.

"Howdy," I reply, so cool, so suave.

A moment passes. "You, uh, just gonna stay there?" he asks. Not waiting for an answer, he extends a paw and helps me up.

"Thanks," I say as I dust off my rear. "Name's Jack."

"Ollie."

"Soooooo-"

"Your parents hired me to help out on the farm." I must have made a face, because he adds, "they said you'd help me get the hang of some things."

Before I can answer, a gruff voice calls from inside the house. "Jack, boy, that you? Get on in here already!" I grin sheepishly at Ollie and he shrugs back and gestures for me to go first.

Fast-forward, and I'm formally introduced to Ollie. Twenty-two, from the city, with a bachelor's degree behind glass waiting to be used for something. His mom's a friend of Pa's cousin, so when she was talking ("complaining," he corrects, with an eye roll) about him not having a job, the farm came up, and here he is.

"Well boys," Ma says as she gets up from the table we're seated at, "it won't be dark for another hour or two so why don't you go check on the north pasture? Jackie, dear, you can show him around."

"Sure thing, Ma." I hop up and head for the door while Ollie trails behind me. This won't be awkward at all, nope. I stop by the door to grab my old pair of steel-toe shitkicker boots and tug them on. Ollie watches as I do, making a face. "What, you never seen boots before?" I joke.

He scoffs. "Of course I have, I just didn't realize I'd need any."

I give him a quizzical look for a moment before saying, "well, it's best to have some, unless the idea of stepping in a cow pie or getting your toes crushed by a hoof appeals to you. Don't worry, Pa has a spare set you could borrow." I glance down at his feet and add, "should fit well enough I s'pose. You wanna make sure you have enough room for your claws or they'll be really uncomfortable, so let me know if they don't."

I pull the boots out and hand them over to him to put on. It's clear he hasn't worn footwear much by the way he struggles a bit. He looks up and catches me grinning down at him. "What?" he asks with a bit of a growl.

"Oh nothing, just reminds me of when I was a pup learning how to put on boots."

"Fuck off." He rolls his eyes but I can see the hint of a smile on his muzzle. His first couple of steps are clumsy but he regains his composure quickly enough and we climb into my truck.

The first couple of minutes into the drive are quiet. Me, I'm used to the solitude and it doesn't bother me. Ollie seems to grow anxious and with a bit of effort in his voice, breaks the silence.

"So, your parents are pretty nice people," he tries.

"Ha, yeah, you could say that. How long you been here?"

"About a week. Jim and Sally said it was fine if I wanted to just acclimate to the farm a bit until you got here, but I've been trying to help out with chores here and there at least."

I nod and grunt my approval. I know both of them are starting to reach that age where farm life is catching up to their bodies with back and joint problems.

"Yeah, well, as much as my mom thinks this is some kind of punishment for me being 'lazy,' it's honestly not that bad. It's quiet out here, and I guess I'm a bit surprised that I kind of like it." He glances over at me, probably worried he'd offend me.

I just chuckle and say, "well, wait until you start working with the cattle before you make that call, bud."

After about twenty minutes we make it to the pasture. Letting the truck idle, I hop out and motion for Ollie to follow me. "Not like it's that hard but I may as well show ya how to work the gate." He nods and follows me out. As I show him the locking mechanism and have him undo it, I notice a ring on his finger. Nodding toward it, I say "you didn't mention being married."

He flinches almost imperceptibly and finishes opening the gate before turning to me. "Ah. I, uh, was, but," he twists his ring around on his finger and looks down. "Well it didn't work out. We were young, I thought I was in love, but in the end she didn't feel the same. I just..." He pauses and looks off toward the horizon.

"Hey, it's cool, you don't need to talk about it. I'm sorry for bringing it up." I kick a rock into a fence post. A moment of awkward silence. And then another. And then I'm startled as Ollie slaps a paw on my shoulder. I turn to look at him and he's grinning again.

"Guess I shouldn't wear the thing anymore but I can't really bring myself to stop, you know?"

"I think so. I mean, maybe not really, but I was seein' this vixen for a while but she didn't want to 'deal with' me heading home for the summer. Pissed me off, but I still think about her any time I smell lavender. Shit, that ain't the same at all," I say with a nervous laugh.

He shrugs and heads back toward the truck, so I do the same. The sun is starting to sink low, casting gold over the hills. Enough time for a quick drive through to show him the bounds and the cattle grazing here before sunset. Ma knows the north pasture is my favorite of the four we own-most of it lies in a hill valley. Being down there with just the cattle and yourself, you leave the outside world behind. The grass meets the sky and leaves no room for anything else on the horizon. Free as fuck, boy.

We're pretty quiet now, but when I turn to check on him, he gives me a weak smile. I flash a quick smile back and decide to just let him be for the ride back.

Ma fixes my favorite meal for dinner-fried chicken. Never one to skimp on sides, Ma also sets out plenty of biscuits, shucked and buttered corn, and potato salad. Did I mention Ma makes her own butter and it's fucking orgasmic? Ollie seems to like it plenty too, judging by how quickly he puts it away. As our bellies fill and we slow down, Pa clears his throat. "How'd you like the pasture, son? Smells a bit better than the cow lot here by the barn, eh?"

It takes Ollie a moment to realize Pa is talking to him and not me. "Yeah, it was really nice, actually. Jack did a good job of showing me around."

"Good! Glad you boys get along, cuz you'll be workin' together most days."

My ears perk up at this. "Really? I thought I was just going to train him on things." I glance at him apologetically for a moment before adding, "not that I mind, 'course."

While clearing plates, Ma says, "We thought you'd both appreciate the company, plus you'll get things done faster this way! Ollie, dear, would you like a scoop of ice cream? It's homemade!" This last word she says in a sing-song voice.

"Oh! Uh, yes of course, ma'am!"

I spin around in my chair, feigning indignance. "Why yes, Ma, I'd like some too, thanks for asking!"

She laughs as she grabs a large Tupperware from the freezer and scoops it into two dishes. "Careful or you'll end up with a gut like your pa."

"Hey now, woman, you love it," he growls, grabbing and shaking his belly at her.

The mood at the table is light with smiles all around as we finish up. I excuse myself and step outside onto the front porch. The sun spits out its last sangria-colored rays as it slips below the skyline. I fish a cigarette out of my pocket and light it up. Shitty habit, I know, but fuck it. I lazily blow the smoke out and let the cool evening breeze whisk it away. Thank god it's upwind from the cowpen. The screen door opens and I instinctively hide my cig (Ma absolutely hates it), but it's Ollie. "Hey."

I loosen up again and take another drag. "What's up?"

"Just figured I'd step outside. Been around just your parents for a bit now, you know. They're great, but I haven't exactly been around anyone my age for a minute."

I nod and grab another cigarette. "You smoke?"

"Not really," he says, pulling a vape out. We both puff a couple times before he speaks up again. "So you grew up out here?"

"Born 'n raised!"

"Heh. I've only ever been in the city, so this is all new." He punctuates this with a crackling pull from his vape. " You're going to college, right?"

"Yup. Just over in Pleasantdale, though-not far, and not very big."

"What are you going for?"

"Fuck if I know. Got a scholarship that pays for most of it, so I signed up for physics because I like it, but shit-what am I gonna do with that anyway?"

He blinks a couple times, saying without saying that he's surprised a country boy like myself could be that smart, and I snort a little laugh. "Um, well there's always teaching if you don't go further into research or the college track. Probably not too useful if you wanted to come back to rural life though..."

"Ayup." I take one last drag and flick my cig off into the dirt. "Ah well, is what it is." I head back inside while he stays out a little longer.

Ma takes me upstairs and tells me she already took my things upstairs to my old room and that it's all ready for me. Ollie's been staying in the guest room, which is right next to mine. "I got the bed all set for you just today with nice clean sheets. Sleep tight, honey," she says, kissing me on the cheek before heading downstairs to her and Pa's bedroom. I look around and take in my bedroom, and it's just the same as when I lived here. Art class paintings of landscapes on the wall, woven rug on the wood floor, my old favorite quilt laid out on the bed.

I've been used to staying up later, but on the farm, if you're not already at work at sunrise, you're wasting time. So off to bed it is. I undress down to my boxer briefs and slide into bed. It's surprisingly comfortable, given how old it is. My head hits the pillow and I immediately tense up.

Fuck. I scrunch my nose up. Ma must have thought she was giving me the 5-star treatment when she washed the pillowcase with lavender fabric softener. I'm immediately drawn back to Victoria, her favorite perfume lavender-forward. Smells are strongly connected to memories, you know, and it's even worse when you're a canine, and it's even fucking worse than that when she used to spray a little on the inside of her thighs. For me.

I feel my sheath plump up and my balls start to feel heavy. Yeah, it's been a minute since I've gotten any action. My mind hazes over for a bit and I find myself glancing over to make sure the door is locked. Check.

I snake my paw down my chest, playing across my abs on the way to my waistband. I let my fingers trace gently over my junk on the outside of my underwear. Tease a claw over the outline of everything, feel myself thicken. I reach down and tug my briefs down, hooking the waistband under my balls. Pulling the blanket aside, I can see the red tip of my cock already poking out of my sheath, drooling a bit of precum onto my belly. I grab it and squeeze, and I'm rewarded with another inch of dick and a spurt of pre. I lick it off of my fingers, because fuck you toxic masculinity, I like how I taste.

My dick's rock hard now and damn, it hasn't been that long has it? I grab it and give it a good hard squeeze, humping up into my paw just a little as I do. With my other paw I cup my balls and fondle them a little. That smell on the pillow has me remembering my whole muzzle buried in Victoria's folds, my tongue tasting her from the inside, and I start stroking slowly.

I just about jump out of my skin when I hear the bed in the guest room creak as Ollie plops down into it. I forgot we share a wall and curse myself for not remember the heads of both beds are against it. I hold my breath while I listen for his movements. My heartbeat pulses through my dick as I wait.

Ba-dump.

Ba-dump.

It's so hot in my paw I know I can't back off now. He shuffles around a bit and settles down, and after a moment, no more movement. Still, best be safe.

Ba-dump.

I stroke slowly, intentionally, squeezing along my pleasure points, and my cock is drooling like a feral wolf with a steak in front of him. I actually have to bite my lip to hold back a groan. I let my mind wander back to reliving carnal memories as I pump my fist up and down on my member. Still, I'm a gentleman to my dick, so I stop every couple of moments to tease it, tickle my balls, trace along the length, eat more of my precum. The smell of my own sex now mingles with the lavender and I'm hornier than ever.

I admit it got too hard to hold back at this point and I started really pawing off in earnest, trying hard as fuck to keep quiet. My paw sticky with my own fluids, I reach down and feel my knot begging to be let out of my sheath and I have to oblige. Gotta be delicate now, because the thing I wanna do so bad is definitely the final step of this little dance. I do it anyway. I squeeze my knot tight and trap a growl in my throat as I cum hard, my toes curling, tail tucking up under me. One, two, three long ropes of musky coyote cum, and the rest just oozes out in lazy pulses.

I know I should clean up but my body is totally drained and I really don't want to get up. You guessed it--scoop, lick, scoop, and lick. Hell, at this point it's a reward for a job well done and I'm still horny enough that the slightly bitter taste doesn't bother me. It isn't the first time I've done it either, so there's that. I'll just set my alarm really early so I can shower before anyone smells it on me in the morning.

Pleased as a pup on Christmas, I pass out in an instant, but not before pulling off that damn lavender pillowcase and flinging it across the room.