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The Number

I dared a glance down at what was going on. It was hard to see in the dimly lit corner of the room we were in, and that obnoxiously fluffy husky tail wasn't helping. I admit I was a bit jealous of such tails, in comparison to my own slender one. No, it really was in the way, and I fixed that problem by curling my black furred fingers around the curly thing and pulled it to the side, with a bit on the pull to let its owner know exactly what I was doing.

He let out a desperate little whimper between his heavy breathing, and I got to see what I was looking for: my beet red shaft slipping into the hole right below the tail I just moved. I wasn't huge, about 6 inches tip to knot, but a little above average on the thick scale. He was on the tight side and we'd been at it a few minutes, right up against the wall at this guy's workplace.

In the back room of his work, of course, but still. If you'd told me just ten minutes ago I'd be sticking my dick in a twinkish little husky bitch I'd have probably asked you what you were smoking.

He looked back at me, his piercingly blue right eye peering over his shoulder. The other eye I couldn't see at the moment was brown, a fine display of his breeds tendency to heterochromia; which for some reason I discovered I found oddly arousing that day.

Bryce, that was his name, started to mouth something but I was far too into this now. The paw that seconds ago had moved his tail out of the way to give me a nice view found its place on the back of his head and pushed that, with just enough authority as to be dominating without violent, into the cinder block wall. The back and top of his head, and ears, were a dark black. His muzzle, neck, and in fact most of his face up to right above his eyes was a lovely shade of white. I had no idea what his back or body looked like, since his barista work uniform had never managed to find its way off. His khaki pants were still wrapped around his ankles, which was just acting to further restrict his movements. I was ok with that.

I was always interested in other guy's fur patterns, seeing as I really don't have any. There's not much color variety in black labs, as one might imagine. I have no idea how old Bryce was (he looked about 20), but I was 34. I might be 'gay-dead' but I sure wasn't thinking that on that day. Honestly I never thought I was doing too bad for my age and occupation. I had a bit of a belly, but nothing much, and I watched what I ate. Also, lest we forget, I made sure I plucked any suspicious gray furs that decided to rear their ugly selves.

He shuddered under me as he felt my knot push up against his hole. He needn't worry, I wasn't about to skip all the fun and just ram that in him off the get-go. We both needed a second anyway. I was going crazy, my heart beating fast from the lewdness and excitement of what I was doing and the risk of getting caught. I suppose the fact that I was knot deep in a warm hole didn't help, either.

Maybe you're wondering how a delivery guy wound up fucking a scorching hot coffee shop manager in the backroom of his workplace in the middle of the day? Well, it all started a few hours earlier, and you'd never believe me if I told you.

The number in the bathroom stall. Who hasn't seen them a million times, and with a silent inward chuckle shaken their heads at the very notion? I shook my head at the one I was looking at written on the side of the TP dispenser, in fact. It was a bit more than just a number at least. This 'ad' as it were, had at least a few words to it:

Bryce likes it from strangers. 555-591-0008

You already know that statement is true, now, but I sure didn't as I traced an ebony claw along the marker lines a few hours ago. I couldn't tell you what possessed me to actually put the number in my phone. I didn't dial right away, but did later on, while stuck in some traffic. It only took a few seconds for me to chicken out. He called right back though, and of course I made up some bullshit about it being a wrong number.

It wasn't easy to elude the mysterious Bryce, though, as my phone bleeped with the text message sound:

If this is about the fast food place I can't believe I wrote that, but the idea excites me and I wouldn't say no.

I didn't reply, figured it was best to just ignore it and let life go on. Then something happened that would have been barely believable as a porno plot, let alone real life. On my second to last stop of the day I ran into this guy.

It took a little detective work. When I entered the back door of the coffee shop carrying a few boxes, my eyes instantly read the name Bryce on the husky's nametag. To be fair, I had been thinking about that name for hours by that point, my mind imagining a dozen different forms that the mysterious number and voice belonged to, so seeing someone actually with that name caused a little stir. It wasn't the nametag, though. It was the voice. When he spoke during our simple exchange his voice was the same moderate pitched, quick talking one I had heard briefly on the phone, with a slight hint of a classic gay lisp. Hell, when I first laid my eyes on him he was practically a gaydar calibraton checklist. Any worries I had had about mystery boy being a total ugly fuck were dead right then.

My next move was quite clever, if you ask me. He caught my awkward gazing, and asked if I was all right. I said I was just tired and that I was going to run up to the front of the shop and get a coffee. It worked brilliantly, he nodded off the affair and I went, took my time, got my coffee and mentally worked over my nerves. I brought up the text message he sent me earlier, and typed a reply. Just a simple "I'll think about it". I had it queued up and ready, and the instant I hit the door to the backroom I pressed send and dropped my phone into my pocket. If it was this guy, his phone would presumably go off, if not, no harm done!

As you may have guessed, his phone damn sure did go off. I stopped in my tracks, and looked at him. Something told me he was piecing it together, but I had to be absolutely sure. I asked him if he had ever eaten at the fast food joint where I had been earlier and found the number.

He was blushing almost instantly as those words came out of my mouth, and his reply actually made me drop coffee that I was holding. "Their food sucks but I hear their bathrooms are nice." I don't think it would have mattered, but thankfully the hot liquid spilled away from us.

The sixty seconds or so after that were some of the strangest of my life, and I knew shit was getting real when he locked the door leading to the front of house. All it took was the soft touch of his tender paw against my bulging (and embarrassingly pre stained) jeans and it was game on.....

*

That pressing of his face into the wall really got him going, and actually made him buck his cream colored hips back against my black shaded ones. I got the hint and pulled back the six or so inches I had in front of my knot before pushing back into him. His ass was giving way a lot better this time.

I relaxed my grip on the back of his head and was rewarded with him playfully turning his head and biting my fingers. That little sharp pain surprised me and I returned the favor with a firm and much faster thrust that slammed his lithe body forward. He let out quite a moan there for just a second before he caught himself. Manager or no I don't think he wanted to get caught by coworkers getting stuffed like a Christmas turkey.

He looked like such a slut, and I fucking loved it. His tongue was hanging over the side of his muzzle and he was practically drooling on the wall as I started to fuck him proper. The sounds of lubed up thrusting, something I hadn't heard nearly enough of lately, filled the room. Speaking of, this was some damn fine stuff, I might have to text him later on and ask what brand it was.

Damn he felt good once he had gotten warmed up a bit; silky smooth back there. I suspect he thoroughly was enjoying himself as well, as I quickly found the right angle to hit that itch he needed scratched. He was gritting his teeth now, and placed both his paws flat against the wall as I moved my own down to his hips. We both sensed that the other was done with playtime, and wanted to work towards the end goal of this whole encounter.

"Shit.." I muttered as I felt a glob of something land on the top of my left boot. I couldn't help but peek, and as I had suspected it was a clear puddle of pre that was dripping from the unattended husky cock. I couldn't believe that he was leaking that much, and was equally dismayed that I had been ignoring that entire side of him in my lust to get under that tail.

That negligence was corrected as I curled my black fingers around his slick member. He was on the small size, but I hardly cared a lick about that and got to work giving him strokes that more or less matched the humping I was delivering. That's a little trickier than it sounds, as you might know, but it was having the desired effect in any event, if his facial expressions were any indicator.

Fuck, I wasn't going to last very much longer, I don't know how long we'd been at this, but it couldn't have been five minutes. My nuts were just too pent up, and the situation was just too intense. He must have caught my slowing down, and guessed what the issue was.

"Fuck... don't slow down." He was looking back at me now and actively gave a firm squeeze around my invading member that sent my head spinning. "I don't have much time, just keep the knot out."

I nodded to him, that was a bummer, but I understood. Both of us were on the clock, and needed to make this a quick affair. Thankfully I was already real close. It was only a few more trips of my cock into his nether regions and I found myself closing my eyes and biting into his neck. Partially out of reflex, partially to muffle the involuntary grunt that was escaping my throat as I started to cum inside him, and partially because it's just fucking hot. It was an intense one, and it rode out beautifully.

It was hard as hell to not ram the prize all the way home, but I held myself back. He drew in a sharp breath and tensed up as he felt what I was doing.

We sat there a few moments, in which I realized the black fur of my paw that had been attending to him was covered down the backside by his own mess. I hadn't even noticed that he got off.

I caught my breath and tentatively pulled out, shivering as my dick flopped out and brushed against the underside of that soft tail of his. He stood up, a bit wobbly legged, and posed a question after he had gathered his breath up. "Just one thing, what's your name? I want to save your number."

"Tom."