Room For You
This story is a work of fiction. In real life, make sure you practice safe, sane and consensual sex.
Room For You
The hat looked fucking stupid.
I guess the trousers were okay.
The blazer itched my skin, though. Even through the shirt and the thick white fur on my chest, I could still feel it itching. It felt like microscopic bugs were crawling all over it and getting into my skin - like they were burying into me.
I shook the association from my mind - I didn't want to say something like that to a potential boss on my trial day. I'd already made a complaint about the hat I was supposed to wear for my uniform.
I held it in my one white paw on my right and batted at it distastefully with my brown left paw.
Foxes normally had all four brown paws, but I was always teased for having something so different. My enemies said it looked gay. My friends always called me Sock, and I quite liked the name, so I had it changed by deed poll when I was old enough.
I looked at the hat from every possible angle. It was black with a small visor. The blazer was fire-hydrant red with yellow frog tags working their way down the opening. I didn't look like I was ready to work in a hotel - I looked like I should be the ringmaster of a circus.
A plastic card was digging into my hip - a master key to all the rooms in the building. I'd have put it in the blazer, but that would involve touching the itchy material again, and I'd rather have something poking me than be itchy all day.
"Jones! Get in here!"
The boss of the hotel sounded angry, so I rushed to put my hat on, straightened out the fur teeming from it and headed for his office in the next room.
Mr. Richards, a bear with brown fur that looked like red chocolate, would have towered over me if he wasn't slumped in his chair. He smelled like stale cigars and his frame looked like it was once fit. Attractive, even. Now, though, he looked less Hercules and more Hercule Poirot. A fat belly was trying to burst from the shirt he was wearing.
"Get your hat on properly," he ordered.
I was tempted to ask where the word 'please' was in his request, but remembering that I didn't yet have this job stopped me. I shuffled the hat around a little, though I didn't think there was much wrong with it. The bear smiled at me, though, so something must have been amiss.
"Well don't you look cute?"
His smile was as sickening as his condescending tone. I wondered if he spoke to all the staff like that.
"Thank you, sir," I said, suppressing the urge to scratch my right bicep.
He looked down at my white paw.
"Birthmark?" he asked. "It looks pretty. I'll bet your girlfriend likes it, doesn't she?" I couldn't help but smile. A girlfriend - me!
"I don't have a girlfriend," I answered. In my mind I added 'because I like cock too much,' but that's not something you say when trying to persuade someone to hire you.
"Well no looking while you're here, okay? I don't want anyone suing us for sexual harassment because you couldn't keep your eyes off a pair of tits." Another smile crossed my muzzle.
"Don't worry, sir, there's no chance of that happening."
"Good," he beamed, now standing and making his way towards me. He patted his paw on my shoulder, and though he looked pretty rough, I could feel his warm pads massaging me. He actually felt quite nice. If he wasn't my boss...
No, I had to stop having thoughts like that. I had to stop thinking about him grabbing me. I had to stop thinking about him throwing me onto the desk. I had to stop thinking about him ripping this stupid fucking hat off my head and...
"Come on, then," he interrupted my dirty train of thoughts, leading me into the reception area of the hotel. The desk was made of old mahogany, and it looked almost black in its colour. The carpet was a royal purple with specks of yellow here and there, holding the same smell of cigars the bear possessed. A grand staircase stood in the centre and spiralled to either end of the first floor of the building.
Two tigers were busy moving a case up the stairs for a panther who looked more than able. The stripy felines were wearing the same stupid clothes I was wearing, though they seemed used to the ridiculousness of them.
The revolving doors span open and spat out the hotel's latest guest.
"Go on," Richards hissed in my ear, pushing me forwards to the till. I put on the smile I'd been practicing all day and began my speech.
"Welcome to Room For You, how may I help you today?"
It was patently false.
I sounded like I was in one of those bad public information movies. It got a smile from the Doberman I was serving, though. Perhaps more of a laugh than a smile, but it still made me feel a little more comfortable. He must have been eight inches taller than me, if not a whole foot.
"I have a reservation," he said. "Phil Morgan?"
I flicked through the pages of the open book in front of me. It was becoming a real challenge to work. Not only was I still a little flustered from thinking about my boss taking advantage of me in his office, but now my fantasies were being expanded upon with the customer joining in.
He was wearing a tight pinstripe suit with a red tie, which brought out his eyes. They looked like two marbles of black fire. The power in them was staring deep into me, almost as if he was willing me to unsheathe.
Fuck, I was unsheathing!
I had to stop myself from thinking those thoughts and focus.
"Ah, here it is," I lied to fill the gap of silence. I ran the finger of my white paw along the paper to quickly find it. Before I could arouse any suspicion from my boss, I tapped the name P Morgan.
"Yes, sir, you're in room three-seventeen."
Mister Richards was getting a keycard ready for Mister Morgan. I hadn't been shown how to do that yet, and from the way he was shouting at someone when I first applied for the job, I guessed it wasn't easy to use.
Or perhaps, just like any other employer, he just wanted to show his power that day.
The bear passed me the keycard, which I then passed on to the Doberman. His black fur caught against my white paw, which tickled and caused me to break a smile. Richards prodded me in the back with his elbow. When I looked at him, he glanced at the canine's bags - a pair of dark blue suitcases.
"Oh," I exclaimed hurriedly, "would you like me to take your bags to your room, sir?" The Doberman glanced at them. They didn't look heavy at all, and I'd seen him walking in with them as if they were empty.
"That would be wonderful," he said.
I nodded and made my way around the desk before picking up his bags. He'd already started walking up the stairs, so I had to rush to follow him with the light suitcases in tow. The file said he was only staying for a couple of days. I assumed he had a business meeting and only needed a slight change of clothes, which would have explained the light bags. I would have been surprised if there was anything in these at all.
Mister Morgan waited for me at the top of the stairs and insisted that I lead the way from that point. I liked to think of myself as physically fit. I certainly wasn't in bad shape, so being able to quickly vault up the stairs by skipping every other one had its advantages. The Doberman had asked me to slow down, though, and as I didn't want to incur a complaint before I even started working here, I did as he asked.
I apologised when my tail sashayed from left to right inches from his nose, but he didn't seem to mind. In fact, he seemed to like it.
Again, I thought to stop myself before I started... displaying my thoughts.
When we got to the third floor I took a right turn. The carpets were still the same - purple with occasional specks of yellow.
"Three-fourteen," I whispered, "Three-fifteen, three-sixteen... AH! Three-seventeen!" The oak door had a large brass handle with 317 printed in dark colours. I placed the bags down by my side and indicated for the Doberman to use the card he was holding. With a click of a lock, a green light flashed and Phil let himself in.
317 was one of the bigger rooms - clinically white with a wall which was made of a sea-view window. The day was sunny, which made the whites of the room even brighter to the point where I had to squint. I brought in the bags and placed them by the side of the bed. The quilt on the bed was the only thing that wasn't white. The amethyst sheets looked crisp, as if this bed was going to be slept in for the first time by the Doberman.
"Is there anything else I can do for you, sir?" I asked kindly. The Doberman glanced around the room, and his eye caught the menu with room service numbers. He sat on his bed and flicked casually through them.
"What's your name, then?"
"Jones, sir. Sock Jones." Morgan looked up from his menus and smiled at me.
"'Sock'? That's really your name?" I showed him my white paw, which looked as if I was wearing a single glove. "Cute," he admitted through a smuckle. "So what sandwiches do you do here, Sock?"
I had to think off the top of my head. Truth be told, I didn't know. "Well, I know that we sell some cheese sandwiches, some ham, som--"
"Yeah, that one," Phil said eagerly. "I could really use that. A ham sandwich. Bring it up yourself, will you?"
I wasn't sure whether or not it went against the hotel's protocol, but I was sure about what my new boss would say. 'Give the customer what the customer wants.'
"Of course, sir, I'll be with you in five minutes." And with that, I was out of the door and making my way to the kitchen.
*
Six-and-a-half minutes and one encounter with an angry chef later, and room three-seventeen was locked. I knocked on the door and shouted "Room service. I have your sandwich for you, sir."
"Come in," the Doberman called back. I reached into my pocket for the keycard and swiped the door. A click of the lock and a green bulb later and I was in. I made my way into the room, past the Doberman's bathroom and placed the sandwich on a table. When I looked to the right at the beds, my maw hung low in shock.
"I need you to help me," he admitted. I couldn't stop staring at the canine.
His trousers and a pair of bright red boxers were strewn on the floor. Phil Morgan was wearing nothing but his tie, his shirt and a yet-to-be-satisfied smile. A can of whipped cream was on the cabinet beside him, which still had a little of its contents leaking from the nozzle.
It reminded me of something I shouldn't be thinking about during work hours.
The can of whipped cream had obviously been used to cover his privates - a generous helping, if not a full can's worth, was sprayed all over his crotch. If I had the ability to close my maw, I'd have licked my lips at how appetising he looked. His wrists were chained to the headboard by a pair of metal cuffs.
"Close the door, Sock," he instructed coolly.
I was barely able to pull my eyes away from him but just managed it and closed the door of 317. I went back, half expecting the canine to have disappeared or his bondage have been my sex-crazed imagination gone haywire. But it wasn't - he was still spread out across the bed and covered in whipped cream.
"I accidentally chained myself to the bed," he played with me, "and I need you to unlock these, okay?" I'd recovered from the shock by this point, so looked him up and down more carefully. Fuck me, he was hot. His muscles looked well-worked and toned. If he'd have wanted to, I imagine he could have just snapped the cuffs off.
"And where's the key?"
Like I had to ask. Like he had to tell me. Phil grinned knowingly and looked down at his crotch. Part of me hoped he'd used more cream than necessary - if he'd used just enough, he was hiding a beast under there. The other part of me, however, hoped for something I could struggle with - something I could feel opening me. My member was swelling at the thought of the size of his cock.
I knew what he wanted me to do, but I dipped my fingers into the cream anyway. It was warming, taking on the heat of his body. The feeling was already extremely sensual.
"I can't find them," I said, though the truth was I'd hardly been looking. I was too busy thinking about the things I'd be doing in the next few minutes. He murrowled deeply as he flung his head back.
"I don't think you should use your fingers. Why don't you get your tongue in there and see what you can find?" My tail lifted at the invitation and my pants bulged visibly. Morgan smiled and his invite was extended as he beckoned me with a nod.
I climbed onto the bed with the Doberman and, wanting to take my time, I dared a kiss on his neck. He leant his head back even further and murred. The muscles in the canine's neck were taut, and something in me begged for a lick of it.
The taste of him was amazing - it held the power of dark chocolate, only not quite as sweet. The texture of his short fur made my tongue tingle as it ran all the way to his ear. My tongue explored deep inside it, causing the canine to writhe beneath me.
"Oh, fuck," he whimpered as he pushed himself further into the bed. While kissing him, I ease open the buttons on his shirt and opened it, leaving his tie fully knotted - the way I hoped we'd be very soon. I lowered myself down from his neck to his chest, spending an adequate amount of time licking his newly exposed black nipples, slowly tracing circles around them with my tongue. I moved down to his solar plexis and finally his to sculpted abdomen. His upper body was left dripping in a sticky film of hot saliva, which reflected the sunlight creeping through the window.
The whipped cream had started to melt a little, but the meal still looked mouthwatering. I licked my lips and leant in towards the mountain of sweet goodness. My nose caught some cream and I shivered at the feel of it - the warm, sticky treat. The fur around my lips had the thick white liquid clinging to them, and when the Doberman looked at me, I licked them clean with a murr.
"You dirty little bastard," he grinned. I smiled widely, making sure my maw was open so that he could see the cream on my tongue and watch me gulp it down hungrily. The pile of melting whipped cream stirred excitedly. I returned to it, my lips opening and allowing the pink muscle in my maw to find the hidden muscle in the white mound.
The cream was delicious, the thick sweetness of every lick causing my mouth to explode excitedly. I occasionally stopped to lick my lips and calm myself down. I was now fully unsheathed beneath my black work trousers, and not doing anything with the red eight inches was starting to bug me. I slipped my white paw down to the zipper, opened it and rubbed the length through my cotton boxers. Another lick of him caused me to jerk as I started to thrust against my own paw.
The Doberman shook his head.
"No, Sock," he insisted, "don't do that. I want to reward you if you can get me out of these cuffs."
I instantly knew it would be better to have a reward from the stranger than the treat from myself, so I zipped my pants back up and focused on licking the cream from his crotch.
The main bulk of the treat had gone, and the next long stroke of my tongue came into contact with flesh. Raw, hard and hot flesh. I looked at the point where I'd been licking - black skin was peeking through the cream, causing it to look grey or otherwise coated in a layer of thick come. I'd stopped licking now. Instead, I wrapped my maw around the stick of meat and rubbed my tongue along it.
The Doberman cried out in pleasure.
"That's good," he told me, "that's really fucking good." I stroked his leg with my white paw, which was still warm from my crotch, and moved it slowly up his leg and to his sac. The two soft marbles felt enormous in my paw, and each slight pulse I gave him made him kick his legs and whimper submissively.
My thumb caught against something, so I opened my eyes and took his cock from my maw. It was a key. A small, intricate piece of metal that had fallen into my paw. I could free him - I could let him go and receive my reward. But the taste of the sweet cream and his dark musk was too intoxicating. If he wanted to be free, he'd have to wait just a little longer.
My paw was wet with cream, and I wasn't in the mood for licking my own fingers - I hoped the Doberman would be, or would at least be submissive enough to give in to the command. I graced his heavy balls with my tongue and watched as his back arched and he groaned loudly. I gathered some of the cream from his hips (an area not sexual enough to interest me to the point of licking it) and smeared it on my middle finger. I traced a light circle of the cream around his tailhole, which was pulsing in and out excitedly, almost as if it was begging for my fingers, the cream, my tongue, or even the tip of my cock.
The cream was gone in seconds as my lips locked with his tight hole. The flat muscle in my maw pressed firmly against it as I tried to ease him open. He moaned loudly and writhed perfectly beneath me. My kinkier partners always told me that I was fantastic at rimming, and I always loved the feel of licking a tight pulsating ring.
Phil's hole was dripping in my saliva, so I used the forefinger of my left paw to play with it. With my right, I held on to the key as I scratched lightly down his chest and pushed my muzzle into the diminishing pile of cream.
I murred into his length, the tip of which was inches from my maw. I licked the head of his cock, paying close attention to the slit at the top. The girth of his black throbbing meat was near enough the same as mine, but the length must have been ten inches. It was possibly more, and I could feel my face light up as I stared at it. The Doberman was looking at me with a smile on his face.
"It gets bigger when it's in foxes," he said. I trembled nervously at the thought of it. Sure, I wanted to take a cock like those seen in porn movies, but seeing how big it was - even though it was only a few inches bigger than mine - was much different to thinking I knew how big it would be.
I held the key up in front of him.
"Would you like me to release you, sir?"
The Doberman bit his lip hard as he nodded. I knelt over his head as I pushed the key into the lock. My hot crotch was inches above his head, and when he pushed his nose into my knot through the fabrics, I gasped. He murred and his fingers curled into fists. One of the cuffs opened with a metallic click and the Doberman was free. Once he let me open the second one, I threw the metal binds to the floor and looked at him.
He wrapped his paws around my head and pulled my face into him.
"You've got cream all on your muzzle," he told me. He opened his maw, and a big lolling tongue greeted my face.
Each long lick felt wonderful, the wet muscle leaving a hot and wet trail where it had been. This was a fetish of mine - I absolutely loved having my face licked. I breathed heavily into his face as he licked me and I restrained myself from slipping my paw into my boxers again. I clawed down his chest and whimpered excitedly as his warm breath made me tingle.
The cream was quickly gone. I doubted I had any on my forehead or around my ears, and hoped that the Doberman just saw how much I enjoyed it. He pulled back and looked at me.
"Would you like your reward now?" he asked me.
I nodded enthusiastically. I'd never been this excited before, even during my first time. He murred through a smile and his warm jet black eyes were penetrating me.
"Stand up," he instructed, his voice in a gorgeous growl. I stood facing him, my trousers now bulging heavily. The Doberman's paw rubbed my length through the fabric and he looked up at me. His paw worked its way to the piece of metal at the top of my zipper and slowly opened my trousers. His fingers worked around the button and Phil pulled my pants and boxers to the floor.
I stood in front of him wearing my shirt, blazer and hat. My member was fully extended, and all eight bright red inches were throbbing in front of the canine.
"That looks tasty," he murred, wrapping his paws around the cheeks of my rump. He gently pushed into my body as he licked the tip of my cock. His tongue wrapped around the length and the underside was covered in his hot saliva. The Doberman's head bobbed back and forth slowly, his lips working their way steadily from my tip to my knot.
My maw opened and closed, forming the shapes of pleasured sounds, but it felt so good that there was no need to acknowledge it. My tail wagged from side to side, and it lifted as Phil's fingers pulsed against my tender flesh and eased their way to the muscle he hungered for. The white paw that earned me my name slithered around the back of his head as I pushed my meat further into him, the eight inches now touching to the back of his throat. He moaned deeply each time I went in, my knot growing in his maw.
As Phil let my length escape his maw, he gave it one more lick. He opened his black eyes and looked at me with deep hunger.
"Get on the bed," he demanded. "I want you on all fours."
I went for the blazer's top button and started to take it off, but his paw grabbed my wrist and he growled at me. He wasn't threatening me, he was dominating me.
"Leave it on." I pointed at the hat and held a question on my face. "That stays on, too. You look cute in it," he smiled with a wicked smile. The muscular canine got up from the bed and watched me as I obeyed him. I couldn't stop staring at his fully unsheathed length - fuck, it looked like it had grown another inch. Maybe that was just my imagination. He tugged on his knot as he watched me kneel on the bed.
"Now close your eyes."
I did.
"Lift your tail and lower your body."
I felt his paws line me up so that I was the right height for him. My heart raced and my hot breath was bounced back from the headboard on the bed. The Doberman's paws squeezed my shoulders through the thick fabrics and worked their way down to my pelvis. Once there, he wrapped one paw around my knot and squeezed it tightly.
"This is pretty fucking big," Morgan complimented, giving it another firm grope and making me moan. "You gonna come already?"
I was close to a climax, but I'd hope this would last a little longer. The paw now working its way along my shaft, however, made that look like a fantasy. Through another whimper of a murr, I nodded and told him I was close.
The Doberman let go of my length, and instead his fingers worked around my tailhole. My fingers and toes flexed in absolute delight and my tail lifted even higher for him. I heard his lips pop around a finger as he wet himself ready to penetrate and stretch me.
His saliva was still warm on his digit as it circled around me and gently pushed in. My body leant back onto him and my back arched as I gasped loudly.
"I've not even got a knuckle in there," he smiled, "you must really like this." My breath became even faster as my knot grew and pre stained my tip. A thick drip fell into the sheets beneath me and the masterful canine chuckled.
"Keep them closed, Sock," he said. When he used my name, it hung in his voice and made me moan. He pulled his finger out and pushed it back in, only to pull it out again. The Doberman was fucking me with a single finger, my muscle tightening around every lump and bump in him. I moaned and my paws clenched into fists around the purple sheets.
Then he took his finger from me for the last time. Now he was pushing something else into me. It was small and felt like it was made of plastic. It felt like a nozzle of some kind. My eyes opened wide when I suddenly realised what it was.
The Doberman squeezed the trigger of the whipped cream canister and I groaned louder than I ever remember doing. This was a brand new feeling to me, and as the cream filled my hot tunnel, my claws dug deep into the mattress. It felt like I was going to explode with the sweet goodness until finally I did. My tailhole was quickly leaking the cream and I felt a dollop drip easily down my leg. He murred at the sight. Curious, I snapped my head around to see what he was doing, and just as I did, he lowered his head to me leg and opened his maw, letting his tongue slither out of its maw.
That tongue, that tongue that was wrapped around my length only minutes ago, was working its way up the back of my thigh. It was still hot and wet, and it slid from my leg to my cheek, leaving a slippery trail of his sticky saliva. He followed in from my cheek and swallowed the tasty dessert topping around my tailhole before plunging his tongue deep inside me.
"Uhh..."
I'd wanted to ask him if the taste was sweet enough or if he wanted to use a little more cream on me. The murrs and the way he grabbed my pelvis to thrust his long muscle even deeper into me told me he was enjoying this enough. As he stretched me for his cock, I couldn't help but put a paw to my own.
Another drop of pre hit the sheets, quickly followed by another. The
Doberman's muzzle pushed as far into me as he could get it, his cold nose easing into my tailbase and causing a tingle to run up my spine. I murrowled deeply and cried out for him to take me.
"Oh, just fuck me," I begged. I looked at him, my tongue lolling from my maw as I panted helplessly. He'd made me his bitch and I couldn't have been more excited. Sweat was dripping down the fur on my forehead, and my weakened state caused him to smile.
He climbed onto the bed with me and rubbed his length against the cheeks of my arse. My heart pounded against my chest the way I knew he'd be pounding against my rump. His paw ran through the fur at the back of my neck and his fingers played with every follicle.
The Doberman pushed hard until I was slammed face first into the pillow, the sound of my breath ringing in my ears and the heat of it hanging in my maw. His other paw ran around my rump and he pushed two fingers into me, lubed only by his saliva and the cream inside me.
"You're hot down there," he observed, "and so fucking tight."
The submission I gave felt wonderful as I was pried open for his mammoth cock. I moaned and groaned at the feeling, writhing beneath the paw that held me. Anyone who could have walked in might have mistaken me for not wanting this - but I couldn't wait for him to fuck me.
His fingers opened up in my tailhole, causing me to scream out in blissful agony as my ring was stretched. I gritted my teeth hard as he pushed his fingers in as far as they would go. The fingers left on his paw tickled my sac from behind, causing me to buck into him violently. The Doberman wiggled his invading digits, and the dull claws on the ends activated something inside me. Liquid amazement seemed to stir as he reached deeper into me, and the sound I gave was a single word.
'Yes.'
The word was, however, lost in my serenity of the moment.
He pulled his fingers out of me, now covered in whipped cream. The Doberman pushed them in front of my muzzle and ordered me to open my maw. I obeyed him, licking the tailhole-warm fingers, murring deeply at the sweet tastes of the cream and the deepest realms of my tunnel. Phil closed my muzzle around his fingers and drove in and out of them rhythmically.
"Good boy, Sock," he smiled.
"Please," I begged, spitting out his delicious fingers, "please fuck me now!" The sheet was now holding host to a small puddle of pre below my hot crotch. My tip was now resting against the bed, and keeping my paws away from the length was becoming increasingly difficult. I needed to come, and from the way the Doberman worked his fingers, I was sure he'd be able to make me without touching my cock again.
"Are you gonna come for me?"
I nodded vigorously. A dark smile passed the black leather of his lips and he planted my head into the bed again. His thick cock pulsed as it caught my hip, smeared around my firm cheek and lingered over my tailhole. He paused for a moment as he picked up the can of whipped cream and smeared his hot meat in it. After running the length through his black and tan paws, he spread my cheeks apart and pressed his tip into my tailhole.
If my tailhole was hot, his member was beyond boiling. The cream inside me felt as if it was melting from the sheer intensity of his cock. My eyes widened as I was stretched open again, the muscles in my sphincter no longer screaming as they were spread. Now they were sighing in relief at the wonderful feeling.
Morgan pulled back and I gave an exasperated moan. His paw wrapped around my pelvis and pulled me into him as he bucked forwards. My back arched and I yelled loudly in amazement. He wasn't lying before - it really did get bigger when it was in a fox. The girth of it was widening as his tip penetrated me deeper. I must have been taking seven inches of him already, and he pulled back again only to plant another inch in.
I moaned viciously as I bit my bottom lip. His dull claws dug into my hips as he pulled me back for another half inch, and I could already feel that liquid sensation in my stomach once again. It was the feeling of an orgasm just waiting to explode.
"Don't stop," I whimpered, "keep doing that!" The canine pulled out and fucked me with all the force he could muster. Every thrust caused that wonderful feeling again, and a groan of pleasure each time he banged into me let him know how close I was.
More pre dribbled out of me. It was escaping me in a torrent, and my cock stirred as I prepared to come. I shook my head.
"No, no, not yet," I begged. This was the best sex I'd ever had and it was about to be over - somehow it didn't seem fair. The Doberman, though, was lost in the throes of his own sexual bliss as well as mine. He moaned in a quick rhythm as he fucked me a little deeper and something pressed against my pucker.
His knot.
It must have been the size of his fist. I usually came when a guy pushed his knot inside me - the feeling as my tailhole wraps around it is usually what sets me off. I imagined coming twice in as many minutes and begged for him not to tie with me until I came. I moaned and groaned for him to stop, when soon it was too late.
For the final time, his tip plunged into that spot in my tunnel. The Doberman touched that one place inside me that made me feel so alive. He murrowled when the muscles tightened around his length as I came. My hot red cock pulsed out ropes of hot sticky come, which made a mess of the white fur on my stomach and ruined the bell-boy jacket I was wearing. The breath hanging on my maw slowed, leaving me to take long gasps of the musk-filled air surrounding us. My fingers clawed into the bed again as I moaned in post-orgasmic satisfaction.
Phil was still going, though, and he didn't need to feel the ballooned flesh at the base of my cock to tell that I'd come. Of course, that didn't stop him grabbing it and squeezing it firmly, relieving it of any juice left inside.
A pathetic and submissive whimper escaped my maw.
"You enjoyed that, didn't you?" he asked, his knot pushing against me and stretching me further. I murrowled through exhaustion as my tailhole took more of the canine and my cock seemed to wake from its short sleep. Another orgasm sounded amazing, but surely my length wouldn't be able to handle it. Either way, the Doberman was about to tie with me.
His knot pulsed again as it nearly reached the halfway point inside my tunnel. I yelped out in pleasure as my breath quickened, and my just-slowing heart picked up as Phil snatched his cock from me. As quickly as it was gone, it was plunged back into me.
My knot jumped excitedly.
The canine pulled out and started a slow rhythm as he grabbed onto my hip with one paw and my cock with the other. His paw slid easily up and down the length, which was now wet from the mess of pre and come. He hungered for another orgasm from me.
He held onto me for leverage, digging his claws into my hips and pulling my knot into him before he took one deep plunge and pushed his knot straight into me with a fantastic pop.
The two of us screamed. The tightness of my tailhole. The vastness of his knot. The feeling was so amazing, and it only intensified as his length pulsed inside me, leaving another hot liquid sensation in me, different to the one before. I moaned deeply and bit my lip hard.
The Doberman fell into me, his muzzle just reaching the back of my neck. His breath was hot against me, and his paw was still sliding up and down me. I hadn't come for a second time, but the canine tied with me wasn't going to give up that easily.
He turned my head around so that I was facing him and he started to lick my face again. His tip still pumped hot come into me with each strained moan he gave, and the way he moved his knot around the entrance of my tailhole felt extraordinary. Phil's paw ran up and down my cock, and I knew I was only moments away from a second orgasm.
I moaned.
I groaned.
I told him how amazing it was.
And when he pushed his knot deeper inside me - as deep as it would go - I released for a second time. Hot white come danced from my tip and landed on his paw. The canine studied it with a murr and offered it to my muzzle. I looked deep into his two black eyes and licked the substance clean, keeping it held on my tongue. I offered it to him and he wrapped his tongue around mine, snowballing with my juices. His paw wrapped around my head and pulled me into a deep and passionate kiss.
Phil was warm and his tongue still tasted of the cream he'd stolen from my tailhole. I tasted him deeper to see if I could find that unique tingle form my own tunnel. The Doberman pulled out of my maw and turned my head so that I was facing away from him. He wrapped his arms around my body and gently licked the edge of my ear as he squeezed me tightly.
I let out a happy murr at the feeling.
"You know," Phil said in what now sounded like the faintest whisper, "I hope your boss wasn't expecting you."
I just realised - he would have been expecting me. He probably wondered where I was. He'd probably given up looking by now.
He'd probably not give me this job after all.
_'Don't worry,' _I thought to myself with a satisfied grin.
'Remember - you've got another trial interview tomorrow.'