FSE

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Joe leaned against a thick tree, the bark rough on his shoulders and the rack of his antlers. He stretched a leg and took a few deep breaths, glad to be almost at the top of the hill. The sun beat down on him. Joe tugged at the collar of his shirt and fanned it out, sighing at the cool breeze across his chest, and the fresh air in his lungs. He looked back at the trail behind him.

His boyfriend, Rosco, was trudging up the last few yards, huffing with each breath. The wolf's long, thick limbs struggled on, carrying the soft weight of his body. Sweat soaked his shirt where it clung to his moobs, and trailed down the crest of his belly.

"Let's take a break, big boy," Joe said, finding a fallen log to sit on.

Rosco flopped down beside him, leaning against his side and catching his breath. "It's so hot out," He panted.

"Summer's hard on tubby wolves." Joe smiled down at him. "Here, nobody's on the trail today." He took off his own shirt first, stretching it past his antlers. Joe took more time to undress Rosco; he slipped a hand under his belly and peeled the wet cloth away. All that soft gray fur waited for him, so Joe stroked a hand up Rosco's flank. He played with his lupine curves and wrapped his fingers around one of his breasts, warm and doughy in the summer sun.

"I'm not too sweaty, right?" Rosco scratched his neck nervously.

"Don't worry about it, it's hot." Joe glanced at the bulge in Rosco's shorts, an eagerness sparking between his own legs. But he wasn't certain that they were alone out here. He lifted Rosco's bulky arms to pull the shirt away, and something else grabbed his attention. A thick wave of scent hit his nose, salty, warm, and full; his instincts knew the smell of wolf, but for Joe, the natural fear had completely faded. Wolf meant Rosco, Rosco meant a big meaty man to play with. He barely restrained himself from leaning in and taking a deep breath; Rosco was already flustered with the chest grabbing.

"Maybe you should just be shirtless all the time," Joe whispered.

"Is summer making my moose all horny?" Rosko teased, while his breath slowly calmed down. "I'm not sure everyone else wants to see as much of me as you do."

Joe shifted over and flipped around to straddle Rosco's thighs, spread out on the log. "As if any guy wouldn't love to see these big wolf titties." He leaned forward and surprised Rosco with a deep kiss, drifting his tongue into Rosco's chubby snout, just to get a taste of him. "I swear you howlers have some kind of lupine magic you put on poor, innocent men like me."

"Maybe," Rosco laughed softly, "or maybe you just like boys who bite." He snapped his teeth.

"This bitey boy in particular." Joe slipped a finger past Rosco's lips and ran it across his sharp carnivore teeth. "You got me, I'm a hopeless pred-lover. Good thing I can bench-press you." He flexed his dense muscles, drawing Rosco's eyes into his pecs. Joe brought Rosco's hand to them and let the wolf tease his skin with those big bad claws.

"You're gonna make me sweat more," Rosco whined.

"Poor puppy." Joe tweaked his ear. His hips were yearning to buck and hump against Rosco's plush body, but he forced himself back to his feet instead, obvious boner or not. "Come on, only a little way to the lookout." He started walking and glanced back as Rosco was getting up with a sigh. "Plus you get to stare at my back."

Sure enough, Rosco managed to keep up with a shirtless Joe a little easier.

"Ugh," Rosco shook his arms as he followed Joe into their apartment, "my fur's kinda tacky. I'm gonna rinse off."

What a pity. Joe couldn't get that smell out of his head, and here was a fat, sweaty, masculine wolf right in front of him. "Give me the rest of your clothes and I'll toss them in the wash for you."

"Thanks, strongman." Rosco unbuttoned his shorts and pulled them down with his boxer briefs, showing off his plump balls and fat, furry sheath, shadowed by his soft belly. He didn't seem to notice the tip of his penis peeking out, or the shining precum that covered the sheath's opening. He must have been swimming in it, with all of Joe's teasing.

"Goddamn, wolf." Joe sucked in a breath and took the clothes from him.

Rosco swayed his hips and was sure to brush his fat butt against Joe as he walked past him. Those meaty cheeks jiggled with his heavy steps, inviting Joe to grab his soft thighs and the pudge of his back. Surely, nature wanted him to fuck this wolf.

Joe stood before the washing machine, most of his own clothes sitting at the bottom of the drum. He dropped Rosco's shorts in but lingered on his shirt. He glanced at the open doorway; the shower hadn't started, but Rosco liked to take his time with fur care, so Joe brought the shirt to his nose.

"Fuck," Joe murmured. He was dressed in just his jock strap, and his dick had been out of its sheath since the hike. It pressed tight against the fabric, leaking hard enough that he'd probably start dripping on the floor soon. He took a deep breath, but Rosco's shirt wasn't quite cutting it. Sure, the sweat was there, the oil from his hide, but it wasn't quite that full scent of wolf.

He dropped the shirt in the wash, and nearly finished the job, but stopped with Rosco's underwear in his hand. Something wet had covered the tip of his finger. Joe unfurled the soft white boxer briefs and found the crotch of them soaked in precum. The dark splotch was marked in the center with shiny fluid, where there had been enough to leak all the way through the cloth.

Even from a few inches away, the smell was intoxicating.

Joe held the waistband open and dipped his snout inside. His breath fluttered at the concentrated scent of lupine sex; he was intimately familiar with Rosco's body, from the sweet pull of his precum to the meaty, heavy musk of his balls and sheath. The insides were damp with Rosco's sweat, mingling with the smell of soft oily skin from between his thighs. Joe smelled lots of sweaty men at the gym, but not one of them compared to his big wolf.

He smothered his nose in the underwear, filling his brain with the essence of Rosco. All the powerful smells sparked memories of his dick in Joe's mouth, his balls held in his tongue, his fur soft and warm against Joe's muscles while they frotted together. The moose's hand mindlessly drifted down to his jockstrap, fingers wrapping over his dick even with the jockstrap covering it; the rough texture sent shivers down his spine, and he slowly stroked himself while he inhaled. "God you're a big, musky wolf," he grunted, picking up speed as he dragged the fabric along his meat, waves of heat growing stronger with each pump, coursing down into his shaking legs, "fat and sweaty and horny. Bet you can't wait to get that wet sheath played with." He pressed his fingers into his hard spire, lathering his thumb with precum. "You've gotta be so desperate for me to smell it on you."

The floor creaked with heavy footsteps just outside the laundry room, only now loud enough to break through his grunting and excitement. Joe froze, without even a moment to take the underwear off his nose or his hand away from his dick.

"You're looking pretty desperate yourself," Rosco said with a grin, half in the doorway.

Oh god did he hear everything Joe said? "Thought you were going to shower."

"Well, I was gonna ask if you've seen my fur oil," Rosco stepped slowly into the room, naked body still on display, "but I guess you've had other things on your mind. Or, snout."

"Uh, yeah..." Joe lowered the underwear from his nose and, despite the twitching frustration of it, released his dick. But he couldn't take his eyes off the wolf, especially his sweaty chest and sheath, a hint of fresh musk drifting off him. "You have to know what you're doing."

"Well, it seems like you're more interested in your nose than your eyes." Rosco raised his long arms in a stretch, showing off the enticing shape of his body, the soft muscle beneath his fat. He was such a big puppy.

"Guess you caught me for real this time." Joe's dick refused to calm down, not with this wolf filling the air with his scent. "I know you don't like sweating a lot in front of people, but god you smell so fucking good."

Rosco laughed nervously. "You like my musk? Well," He got close, showing himself off with a dumb, confident smile on his snout, "if you wanted to smell a wolf, you could have just said so. I don't think I mind sweating if it makes you this horny."

Joe grabbed Rosco and dragged him in close, squeezing his ass. Rosco sucked a breath through his teeth, melting into Joe's manhandling grasp. The moose gripped his plump, lupine arm tight and hoisted it up, before digging his nose into the damp fur of his pit. The air in Joe's nostrils became warm with body heat and so full of Rosco's carnivore scent that Joe could almost imagine he was cooking steaks. His rough hands groped and pulled at Rosco's loose hide, his rolls of fat, and the plentiful meat of his thighs.

Rosco stifled a few laughs as Joe's nose rooted through his armpit. After a minute, Joe came back up for fresh air, his eyes bright with excitement, jockstrap pulled completely taught. His dick prodded into Rosco's yielding belly. Joe leaned into him, opening his mouth to take full breaths of his neck, and the cute collar of fat that surrounded it. He rocked his hips forward, humping against Rosco's belly, even brushing against his sheath beneath it. "Soft wolf," He moaned.

Rosco's arms wrapped around Joe's broad, solid shoulders. He nestled his head against him and peeked an eye open. "Hard moose."

Joe gave Rosco a moment to rest against his body and took the chance to keep thrusting. But he had a few more choice bits of wolf to taste. He pulled Rosco back and grabbed his ass with both hands, bending at the knees and hefting the big wolf up to his waist. With a grunt and straining biceps, Joe settled him into place "You sure do like your peanut butter, don't you?"

Rosco tightened his legs against him. "You're the one who likes your fat, sweaty, horny wolf." His dick poked out from its sheath and dabbed Joe's muscle-packed stomach with his precum.

"I love my fat, sweaty, horny wolf, all of him," Joe beamed, "including his tits." He planted his tongue on one of Rosco's moobs, pressing on the pudge, and taking it into his mouth. Joe's teeth teased Rosco's chest, while his tongue lapped the musky fur. Rosco whined, and Joe went further, sucking on his moob and lavishing his big, tender nipple with attention. He wondered, if he sucked enough on this fat pup, could he get a bit of wolf milk? He yearned to try that sweet taste, but for now, he had to settle for tormenting Rosco with the tingling pleasure that his soft body was built for.

Rosco wriggled in Joe's grasp, and his dick hardened completely against the moose. "Wait," he patted Joe's pec until he pulled back and let Rosco's chest go. "I want to rinse off at least. I'm still all sticky."

"Aw, puppy." Joe huffed. He slowly set him on the floor, but couldn't get the wonderful smell of wolf out of his head. "Tell you what, how about you just don't use soap?" He ruffled the side of Rosco's neck. "Fluffy fur, smelly wuff."

Rosco stuck out his tongue in thought and met Joe's eager gaze, then glanced down to his stretched jockstrap. "Well, I guess I don't have to go anywhere for a few days."

"You don't have to go anywhere, my big wolf. And, one more thing," Joe reached out and slipped his finger into Rosco's sheath, along with his softening meat. He tugged gently, with Rosco following his sensitive skin back up to Joe, "think you could just leave this bit unwashed?"

"You like the smell of my sex that much?" Rosco cocked a brow at him. "You're really horned up for wolves, huh?"

"Who wouldn't be, living with you?" Joe kept his finger in Rosco. "Alright, how about this? If you don't wash your sheath, I'll buy you two pizzas from that expensive place you like. All for you." He kissed Rosco on his snout and tugged his sheath again. "And I'll let you go."

A little shine of saliva drooled past his lip, perfectly in time with a bead of precum rolling from his tip over Joe's finger. "I do like the idea of your snout in my sheath," he thought for a second, "and I like the idea of some garlic knots.

Joe kissed Rosco again, lingering in front of his snout. "Very smelly wolf."