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General Warning. This story is intended for a 17+ audiance, and contains scenes of highly mature matter containing Pawing off. Read on with your own intentions.

Happy pawings!

-Swift

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When others see me for the first time, they probably think 'Wow, he looks tough, bet he's rough in bed' and 'he must be a dominant one, with size and strength like that'. On the other paw though, those who actually know me would think more along the lines of 'Wow, at age 22 he's still a virgin, I heard from his roommate that he hasn't even gone on a real date yet!' As much as I've always loved public opinion, the real facts are always the ones you have to deal with the most.

Now before all your horny readers close this story down because you predict a dull, non-yiff short, let me assure you that in good time, I'll eventually warm up to your ideologies... actually if everything goes as planned, excel these ideologies beyond your wildest imaginations.

In a normal case, any self respecting yiffy story starts off nice and slow, like the lead up to that much anticipated buttfucking you've been trying to get the other individual to agree upon... in this case though I'll change the rules a bit for you all (as a late Christmas present).

Yes, I'll start with a little heated scene to get those sheaves (in the case you are candid) a little hard (pardon my bias if you are in fact, female)! Let's take you all back to December the 20th, five days before the Christmas of 2011.

**********

I was alone in the dark of my bedroom and I couldn't really get to sleep. In the room to my left, right on the other side of the thin wooden wall my dorm buddy Kaster Sommy was fast asleep. I could hear his quiet intakes and exhales of breath, that lucky basterd. After another few moments of impenetrable darkness, I opened my eyes for what felt like the thousandth time to gaze blankly at the ceiling, letting out a faint sigh of frustration. I knew that I had to find a way to become tired, something that would ware me out, or bore me to sleep. I thought for countless minutes and then the idea dawned on me. I would pleasure myself... by embracing that puppyish side of me... I would count sheep! Yes! That was the catch... in no time, I would end up asleep. Rolling onto my side I began.

One sheep, two sheep, three sheep, four sheep... I knew this would work!

Five sheep, six sheep, seven sheep, eight sheep... anytime now!

Nine sheep, ten sheep eleven sheep, and twelve... I couldn't wait!

Thirteen sheep, fourteen sheep, fifteen sheep, sixteen sheep... oh, who the hell was I kidding? If anything the counting was keeping me up, growling quietly to myself I rolled back to face the ceiling. What to do now... a faint mischievous smile spread across my black lips, reaching down I pulled off the covers and then my sleeping shorts. My tight underwear was the next to go. Stretching out I sighed, the cool air circulating around my room felt good on my heated body. If anything, this would allow me to go to sleep... I just knew it. After a while as I settled down my crotch began to tingle from the cool air caressing it. Biting the corner of my lip I gazed down on my furry shaft... maybe I should keep it warm (that had been my fail-of-a-justification). Bringing a steady paw down, I rested it on my shaft. With a smile I settled in, it would be warm in no time... but still. I moved and began to stroke. As we all know; friction is the best way to heat up something manually.

My rubbing increased and I felt my cock, glinting with traces of pre in the moonlight, slip out a bit. I stopped, or tried too, but the temptation was far too strong. It was Wednesday anyhow or 'Hump Day' as I've heard it's called, so I supposed that this was the day of the week everyone did this sort of thing.

With a sigh, I let myself loose the match to temptation. Closing my eyes and slackening my jaw, I dreamed up a rather basic sex scene (At the time, I really didn't need much extravagance to get off). There was a big muscular Doberman male there, and then an unemotional Samoyed female waving about her hips so that her precious vagina could be clearly accessed (I was a good boy at the time, and I thought that buttfucking was far too painful for the counterpart to endure). In a shaky move, I brought my free paw to my dangling sac and cupped it there, alternating between stroking and churning in a pattern. On top, my pawplay had sped up, and my meat, nice and hard with all the attention it was getting, protruded almost fully out. At this point the smell of sweat, laced with the strong muskiness from my arousal, clamored up the small sleeping room, and I breathed it in heavily, savoring my scents and shivering all along at how dirty I was being.

In my imagination now, the female had gotten down on her paws and knees without a word, and the male, me, put his paws down on her shoulders and began ramming his dark red slab in and out of her sopping pussy. My paw drifted down from my buzzing shaft, and onto the red flesh of my doghood. I was very sensitive there, and immediately I could feel that glorious knot forming, expanding slowly as it reacted to my gentle touch. Licking my lips I began to massage the length, bringing my rank ball-fondling paw up to two-paw my sticky rod (at the time, I had no clue that my piece was heavier than the average Dobie cock), I then made a sort of mock vagina with my ball-fondling paw, and continued to use the other one to stroke. What came out of it was elation across my length, but also satisfaction at my tip, which pounded against my clenched paw rhythmically. As this thrusting continued, I began to feel the pre-cum, which leaked freely and copiously from my mushroom-like cocktip. As the tempo increased and I became rougher the excitement began to heat me up, so I lolled my tongue from the corner of my maw and began to pant profusely. Suppressing my grunting and exited whimpers, I was super-aware that only a thin wall, un-soundproofed, divided me from my sleeping Black Panther roommate.

In a sudden turn of events, my hips began to take me over in heaving rolls of muscle and momentum as my pawing off reached the next level. My paws, my pulsing cock, and my abs became covered in a sloppy amount of transparent pre-cum, flawed with the occasional sprit of translucency. At this point in my rut, I was drooling onto my bed almost as much as I was leaking pre, and my imagination had gone haywire as my most animalistic impulses took me over. The generic scene quickly changed, and what I saw was frightening to me. The same female Samoyed from my last reveries was now tied up with a lather harness to a leash. In her drooling maw was a ball tied to leather rope and her legs were spread by a crossbar-like gadget. She was moaning in pleasure though and clearly enjoying the tied up state she was in. I was there again with my paws still clenched down in a vice-like grip over her shoulders, and I was ramming her battered pussy with all my might, smiling lustfully. Back in realty my knot had swelled to the size of a tennis ball and I knew my climax would be arriving soon (At the time, I had no clue about holding off climaxes by clenching right in front of my knot, so my sexually unapt pawing off events were sadly short lived). Loosing full control my thrust became sporadic. I shook with each hard strike my overly-eager meat dealt to my sopping paw and grimaced in elation every time my rough paw pad came into contact with my heavy-set cock, now as hard as stone and pulsing like a fiend. Grabbing my pillow from beneath my bobbing head I brought it to my face and bit down on it. I knew from past experience that without the proper precautions, my sex-drunk howling would wake my roommate up. My knot swelled a bit more and the transparent liquid coming from my doghood became milky and translucent. This new wave of wonderful fluid brought on a new scent, one that overpowered all the rest. It was tangy and animal but pungent as well. It made the air feel thick, and my mind real. This final release of pheromones always stunk up the place, and in that lucid post ejaculation state, I would rub my balls to lace the scent on my paws, just so that I could smell it a bit longer longer. It was uniquely me, and something about that fact always made me feel very good.

In strings, the milky solution painted my black and rust colored coat with large splotches of white, and squirted to new heights to come down across my heaving chest and sweaty face. One thick strand splattered down on my chin and I brought my hanging tongue to the spot, where I licked the area clean. As its scent clearly indicated, the taste of this liquid was tangy, but there was also a salty undertone that made me always crave for more. This white pre rained down on my bed, and all across my body, in turn holding off my craving state till the real load arrived minutes later. At my cock, my paws had become a blur, but as I felt the knot beginning to drain, I clenched one of my sodden paws at the base of the balloon, while the other worked subconsciously to contain as much cum as possible. When the grand finale finally arrived, my pure white cum quickly filled up the hollow I'd created with my paw to the top and soon, I began a series of muffled howling as wave after wave of raw elation wracked my sweaty body. The thick cream dripped viscously down and across my heaving flank, and pooled at my sides and in my bellybutton. The liquid was blissfully warm, hot almost, and as it continued to spill over from the hollow at my paw, it covered my convulsing cock and sopping wet shaft, heading to lap at my other paw, which acted as a clenched vagina locking me in a knot. The smell had gone sour in the room as my cum became the dominant scent, and as rouge spurts of cream landed in my gaping muzzle they tasted bitter. But then again, in the state I was in, I couldn't have cared if it tasted like urine, because the waves of stimulation numbed my body. Time pressed on and I found my stream beginning to taper off. My knot went from the size of a tennis ball, to a Clementine, to a marble, and then, depressingly, disappeared all together. The aftermath was messy, to say the least. Aside from the stifling smell of animalistic fuck that replaced the oxygen, I was satisfyingly wet and sticky, with sweat and all sorts of bodily fluids coating my body like icing on a very 18+ cake. I was smiling wickedly though, and rubbing my balls in praise. At the side of my head, a large puddle of drool was quickly going cold. I was warm and lost in the glorious afterglow of the pleasing session, but I shivered nonetheless with fatigue and excitement. I was even too tired to clean myself off, so all I did was throw on my undercover and snuggle in allowing them to soak up most of my juices. I would throw the bed sheets in the wash when morning came around. With a final sigh, I closed my eyes, and they did not open till I woke up the next morning.

When I awoke again, it was from a lone feral bird chirping in a nearby tree. Sunlight filtered in through the cracks of my blinds, and the wind from my partially opened window greeted me with the scent of fresh pine. Normally, the air would be layered with a vast verity of scents, but since the snows of our Canadian winter had fallen, many of them had been masked and covered. I didn't mind though, and the cool air was refreshing. Pulling off my covers I was struck by the pungent wave of sex... I smiled as the events of last night came back to me. With a groan, I got up and stretched, hearing a crack or two as my body loosened up. Rubbing my sleepy eyes, I stumbled out of bed and went into my closet to throw on some cloths. It was when I was looking for some underwear, that I heard the knock at my door.

"Yes?" I said to the ceiling.

"It's me." the voice from outside said, it was clearly Kaster's. "Can I come in?"

"No, I'm changing..." the door swung open and I dived into my closet, pulling a shirt off one of the hangers and covering my lower part with it. Walking back to my bed I sat down. In the doorway a Black Panther, sporting nothing but a chef's hat, gazed back. It was Kaster. I rolled my eyes.

"Kaster," I groaned. "When will you learn to respect someone's privacy?" In a silent laugh, the panther's maw split into a comedic looking grin.

"Oh, I understand privacy buddy, but I've known you for so long that I don't think that word applies with us."

"Oh really?" Now I was smiling. "Well then, come on in." I threw the shirt on, and sat back on my bed, using my arms as a place to rest my head, and clearly exposing my messy shaft. I would wait and see how he would react. On taking two steps in, Kaster stopped and sniffed the air.

"Oh, what's this?" He snuffed a few more times. "Do I smell rut?" His grin broke into an all out laugh. "I do, did I miss a party of sorts last night?" I nodded.

"You sure did. You see, as hard as it is for you to grasp, I know how to use my sex like any other animal out there. So I think you owe me an apology!"

"An apology?" Kaster scoffed, putting a pin in my bubble of exuberant ego. "I think I owe you a half apology, or did you sneak a bitch in last night as well?" I shook my head. "Well then there you have it... though I must admit." He stooped down to smell my covers. "You sure have a good rutting scent." Though I hardly knew what that meant, I took his words to be a complement.

"Thanks!" He shrugged nonchalantly. "I'm always truthful! And now that it's clear to the both of us that you in fact have a sex drive, I think it's time for you to get out and meet someone." I immediately shut him down.

"Ah, I don't think so Kaster." He frowned.

"Well, why not? You scared?"

"No." I responded, a little too quickly. In all truth, I was simply uncertain, and maybe a bit nervous.

"Then why?" he asked.

"Oh I don't know..." I hesitated for a moment trying to find another topic to draw the conversation too.

"Did you finish breakfast?"

"Yes, well, I and Jester did."

"Jester, have I met him?" I asked.

"Nope, but you will soon!"

"I bet..." again I droned off. While I was the biggest sexaphobe, Kaster was the most outgoing sex-crazed fiend you could happen upon; the chemistry between us was rather interesting in fact. In another world, if I hadn't met and befriended Mr. Sexoholic over there when he and I were just kitties and pups, he would have been walking in a whole more superior realm then I could have even dreamed of. Meany times actually, I had told him he could leave if I dragged him down, but he was always insistent on staying. He would always swear after having that sort of talk with me that he would make me like him before he died. I never told him this, but I knew that he was going to die a failure. So with that aside, and even now, I being a virgin Doberman of 22 and him being a sexoholic Panther of 23, we've stuck together. Now don't get me wrong, It's not like he was my mate or anything, but we were so close that it felt that way... I didn't know if I was gay or not, but the relationship I had with him felt good nonetheless.

"Anyways, I've got something planned for you after Christmas, a present from me!" Kaster had suddenly come back in the picture, and he was sitting beside me, real close. Whenever he did this, I'd always feel anxious, because at this range, he could toy with me and have the assurance that I wouldn't do anything in defense (he had always secretly known how badly I'd wanted to prove to him my sexual aptness, so he used that weakness of mine often)... and toy with me he did. At first he reached under my shirt to feel the matted mess around the sticky spots of dried pre-cum and semen. Feeling the mess I made of myself, he nodded and then slowly made it down to my shaft, where he rested his cool paw across its length. It was still sensitive there from the events of last night and I squirmed uncomfortably. I didn't pull away though, and instead reveled in the feeling of another paw touching me. I noticed with a start that it felt different somehow, more satisfying.

"Oh, after the twelve days of Christmas, you'll be very efficient." He said to himself, and then to me "I know you'll love it, do you remember the last time we spoke, and I promised that before I died, I'd get you nice and horny like me?"

"Yes, and I had told you that your claims were quite impossible." Suddenly, we were again just a pair of friends, poking fun at each other. He brought his paw away from my shaft and rubbed off its acquired dampness on his glossy black side. "But I'll talk more about this on Christmas, ok?" I nodded, still unsure about what he had in plan for me. "Now, breakfast is ready, so put on some cloths and throw your covers in the wash, I'll set the table." For a final time I nodded and he got up, making sure that in his wake, I could smell his own unique scent, his heavy, his rich and his potent musk.

I wondered what the hell I was going to have to deal with on the 25th.

~Stay tuned for the next Chapter, coming soon!~