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*Wanna skip the scenery and get right to the action? Jump to the break.

~Swift

So I'm sittin' on this train from Kamloops to Yellowknife watchin' the scenery go by, sort of smilin' to myself- just watchin' in silence, you know? My friend walks in, he's not so quiet and there's this stupid grin across his muzzle. I look back at him expectin' trouble, but he just keeps smilin', so I turn back and pretend I didn't notice him.

He sits down across from me and just stares. See, he makes it seem as though he's lookin' out the window, but I know from experience that he's got me locked in the crosshairs at the corner of his eye. There's no way I'm lettin' him get the best of me though, so I keep starin', and he keeps starin', and soon, just like he wanted, it's startin' to get on my nerves.

Clenchin' my paws a little tighter I re-adjust myself and prop my chin on my balled fists. Up above a birds flyin' by, you know, not the anthro one, the feral one. Fun fact: did you know that a male bird's testicle actually goes from near microscopic to hangin' when they're ready to fuck? I didn't, but that's why I got my friend. Let me tell you, the damn cheetah has too many facts runnin' around inside that head of his- I call him atlas sometimes, because, you know, he's full of random shit that he can just pull out of his toned ass on the whim.

Now don't get me wrong, I like the guy. Felix has been my friend for as long as I can remember. He's that sort of character that you have to get to know first before engagin' in a conversation with. What I mean to say is that I can bet that you'll last, eh, maybe two minutes before he say somethin' that makes you uncomfortable. I know this one bitch, Lucy-beautiful dog I should mention-lasted four minutes. If I had any say in things I'd make is so that she got into the Guinness world records or somethin'.

As I continue my futile, quickly deterioratin' resistance against the tension that's buildin' up, he inches a bit closer-that damn smile on his face still-and then closer, and closer and closer.... see it comes to the point where I can feel that heat radiatin' from his body. I lose it then, you know, break.

"What the hell do you want, kitty?"

"Two things," he replies, all smug; I roll my eyes.

"You and the fine bitches in room down from us. Fuck."

Another eye roll; his antics, I tell you.

"So is the fuck relatin' to gettin' me boned, and talkin' to them- or the other way around?" Hey, I can always dish out some witty rhetoric; you gotta build up a wicked tongue when interactin' with that damn cheetah, least he get the best of you.

He puts a warm paw on my shoulder and motions out to the horizon line; and here I am thinkin' he's gonna say somthin' like 'Matilda. One of these days; bang, zoom, straight to the moon.' The idea is makin' me snicker a bit, but like my witty response, he ignores it- lost in the delivery of his next line.

"This is how I see it, mate, bear with it. Me, you, ten hours till we stop, two sexy bitches and a bottle of vodka. You need to get out of this room pronto; your damn musk is stinkin' up the place."

See, this is what I mean; less than two minutes and he's already commentin' without a damn in the world. Lucky for me I've become invulnerable to his odd social skills, so I just ignore that and take the rest of the sentence.

"One question, 'mate'" I mimic his Australian accent- or maybe attempt is the better word because I butcher the delivery. "I'm fine with the first parts, but where are we gettin' the vodka?"

He laughs at that and pats me on the back; that frisky paw of his rubbin' up and down as he continues.

"Now that, mate, is the spirit. I knew I could count on you. So maybe no vodka; that might have been wishin' for too much, but I'd imagine that we can get em worked up to the point where we won't need it- you think that's possible?"

"I think it's possible," I reply.

"Then what are we beating around for, let's skitta'."

"Lets."

And we walk out, leavin' behind our things.

<><><><><><><><><>

So I'm like ten paces away from the room and I'm struck squarely in the muzzle by this wave of pheromones. Real heavy, full of passion, and I'm like 'hey, this is gonna be good'. I look at Felix and he looks back-that nose of his twitchin' at the seductively pungent smell-and he starts smilin' again. Now it's mutual though, and mixed in with the anticipation we're both feelin' as we get closer and closer to that room.

The voices are next. A momentary standstill in the conversation leads me to thinkin' that they caught scent of us, so Felix walks up with that damn swagger of his and knocks on the propped door. The girls respond as if they had no clue he was returnin', which I think is bullshit because I'm still on the hunch that they smelt us. And then just like that, a white paw shoots from behind the doorframe and pulls him in. Another exclamation that goes right over my head because I'm just about to round the corner, and then I'm in and starin' with a cool grin on my face.

"So this is the Sheppy you were talking about, Felix." A throaty voice, the host behind the mysterious white paw, addresses me.

"What you were expectin'?" I say, keepin' it cool.

"Even more." Was her simple reply, she bats her lashes at me and points her chin at the other girl I missed, a black panther... exotic; I already had plans to take her as my own. "Jasmine, get the door."

A purr which I believe is an affirmative, and that sexy kitty gets up and goes to the door. As she passes by me she twitches her tail so that it flicks me across the nose. That flick riles me up a bit and I feel the tip of my doghood tap the seam by my crotch; did I mention she was gonna be mine?

Almost as soon as the door closes and the blinds fall into place, givin' us some privacy, the room starts heatin' up. Here I am now in the goddamned Sahara desert of pheromones and body heat. The room's enjoyably stiflin', the air is charged. With the half closed blinds coverin' the outside window lettin' some light in, I pick out this seductive slink in that irresistibly erotic panther as she makes her way back to where she was sittin', trailin' that heady scent like a goddamn motorboat.

"Come here, I'd like to meet you." The panther says, and I'm more than happy to oblige.

Lickin' my lips I brush past Felix and walk over to the waitin' feline. As soon as I'm in distance she pulls me down towards her body, claws unhinged to get a good grip- I think she ripped my jeans a bit, but I'm in no mood to complain. When I fall against her I can feel her heart beatin' excitedly, no doubt matchin' the tempo of my own. I'm well aware of that tinglin' sensation her breath keeps leavin' each time it's exhaled from her lungs to strike my fur as well- it sorta tickles. I cast a quick glance over my shoulder to see that Felix has already gotten down to business. As if she was no more than felt, the dirty white wolf had attached herself onto the cheetah, feelin' up his body like there was no tomorrow, her breathin' erratic and leadin' me to believe there was some foreplay prior to my arrival between the two.

But enough of that crazy fucker, we're talkin' about me now.

So I look back at the kitty and I'm droolin' a bit because her sent is arousin' me faster than Pheromones in a Can tm and I smile and she smiles back and I ask her somethin'.

I say "Is this how you greet strangers?"

And she says "you don't know the half of it."

So I'm left wonderin' about the whole picture; already she's givin' me a hard-on and we haven't even started with the warm-up. So I initiate the first stage, you know, stokin' the fire with caresses, tracin' the protrusion of her hard tits through her light khaki, kissin' and strokin' her body, gettin' her all heated and stuffy. I can see the wetness at her armpits and neckline, and I know I'm doin' the right thing, but that's not the wetness I'm lookin' for, no, I'm lookin' for that giveaway at her snatch. All it takes is a rogue paw creepin' down to stroke her waist and poof, it strikes gold as it rubs over the newly spilt puddle there by her tender pussy.

Time to initiate phase two, the long game.

"You're a bit wet." I say between heavy breathin' and all she responds to me with is a nod and a helpless purr. "Well you're in professional paws, dear, so let me help you with that."

"Likewise." She says, and then goes back to purrin' and my smile turns into an all-out grin.

I look down to where the bulge in my pants is and notice she's right. Never mind her arousal, I had to get my own pants off before the old dog cock rips right through. Cleanchin' my jaw and bringin' my damper paw to my zipper, I unzip and worm out of the restraint. Without hesitation I unbutton her straight cut jeans and pull them down till they're swaddled by her knees. Pressed so close I have to arc up and give her some room as she kicks them off, finally revealin' that short black and glossy fur that extenuates every natural curve of her legs. Next came my shirt and hers, till all that's left are two sets of underwear.

Bringin' my dry paw down to meet my wetter one I begin to rub her hips, teasin' her winkin' vagina-merely veiled by black lace panties-with the occasional shark attack. It's after the third time I flitter over her pussy that she hisses in agitation and brings her black paws to hold my own brown ones in place right over her sweet-spot. Momentarily I can feel how slick she's gettin' from the foreplay, and I know it's time to dive in and get things really started. I look up to her, catchin' a glimpse of her watery eyes above her sizable breasts and shake my head.

"Let go."

"But--"

"Just do it. Paws of the professional, remember?"

Reluctantly she lowers her paws and I'm free once again to move around. Bringin' my digits to her waist I lower my head, and with my teeth, pull off her final line of defense. Cluin' in to my intentions she lets out an exited whimper and grabs her underwear, unhingin' her claws and simply snippin' the back so that the lingerie falls limply to the cote beneath us. My eyes go wide for an instant and then a wolfish grin falls over my muzzle and I bear my teeth, acknowledgin' her desperation with a twinge of cockiness.

Brinin' my muzzle down to the panther's decently wet pussy I begin to lick, lappin' at her folds and revelin' in the smoothness they presented; not to mention the fact that like a volcano, her fluids had begun spillin' over her rim, rollin' down her sweat-slick hips to pool by my clenched paws. My lickin' gets a bit sloppier now, addin' to the liquid concoction brewin' down by my nosepad and I probe deeper, explorin' her depths as critically as a geologist might explore a jewel-encrusted cave; personally, I think my reality was the better one.

I could feel the convulsions and contractions each time the tip of my tongue made contact with the kitty's swollen clit, and I could feel how she attempted to-in her foggy lust- pull me deeper, explore more. For teasin' sake I initially resist her manipulation, electin' an array of pleadin' meows and whines that push my swellin' member out another inch or so until the throbbin' appendage is uncomfortably pressed against my underwear- taught as a damn trampoline. And then I dive in, burrowin' my muzzle into her puffy folds and extendin' my tongue so that even the furthest reaches are tasted and stimulated. In response to my bold embarkment an uncontrollable hiss escapes from between the feline's closed maw, and her claws dig deep into the plushy mattress, rippin' up the stuffin' in pure ecstasy. Soon, she's archin' her waist up, fruitlessly attemptin' to push me deeper and deeper inside of her. In waves her juices flood around my sodden muzzle, slickin' the tatty fur that grew there close to my skin. The tangy scent of her helpless arousal fills up the air around my muzzle, replacin' the hot air with it 'till all I'm breathin' is raw pheromones. Finally, after a considerably drawn out convulsion that holds my muzzle in place for seconds, I pull out with a squishy slurpin' noise and bring a paw up from under her waist to wipe off the access fluids. Even after my cleanin' session, however, I'm still soaked and as aroused as a rabbit in matin' season. Bringin' the juice covered paw to her muzzle, I dry my digits off across her nose and pull off my underwear, breathin' in sharply as the air washes over my throbbin' wood. From the look on her face I can tell she's loosin' herself to that primitive side. Her tongues lollin' out and there's a hard look in her eyes, one that gets sharper at each inhale as the overwhelmin' smell of my musk, coupled with her own scent, is given to her in doses, leadin' to the creation of an irresistible, drop-dead perfume. Half time was over, let's move on to phase three.

"You like this?" I ask.

She nodes vigorously and detaches her shaky paws from the seat, bringin' them down to stroke at her swollen pussy feverishly. Figurin' that at this rate she'd finish too quickly I bring my messy paws to her newly drenched ones and push them aside, pinnin' her to the bed. In a swift move I spin around so that my balls and fully erect cock are mere inches away from her pantin' muzzle.

No words need to be spoken. With an unsuppressed moan she pulls me close to her body, coverin' my chest fur in the slop produced from the session and lowerin' my member so that she could take it into her maw and suck. As soon as I feel the bobbin' motion and my golf ball sized balls tappin' rhythmically against her chin, I again moved in for the attack, this time suckin' on her clit with the vigor of a leviathan. Occasionally I'd nip and she'd yip cutely before resumin' her menstruations. In no time I can feel the familiar knot swellin' in my sheath and my hips beginnin' to gyrate, grindin' lewdly against her muzzle, coverin' it in my sweaty musk. I think at this point it's safe to say that she had lost herself to that divine primitive lust, so to test, I ask her a question.

"How are you doin'?"

The only response I got is a throaty purr. Bingo.

"Well take me then, bitch." I growl, allowin' myself to slip into my own sort of primitiveness.

I can feel that will to dominate risin' like a tsunami, and actin' on that will I began to thrust, not carin' if I was being too rough or too assertive. She was mine, and there was no way I'd let her get away. From how well the kitty was takin' my impressive length I could draw the conclusion that she was experienced, which is good. The last thing I wanted was for the session to stop because she was chokin' or somethin', and trust me it happens- total letdown. The sensation I was experiencin', though by no means alien, was incredibly satisfyin'. In many ways, deep-throatin' was similar to vaginal intercourse. You got the fluids, the heat, and the softer tissue of the throat. On the contrary, however, it was more spacious, and you couldn't get a bitch pregnant. I was in no mood to be a father, so I'd finish things off in her slobberin' whore-hole.

"You want my seed, bitch?" I say throatily, a permanent growl permeatin' the atmosphere.

Instead of respondin', however, she just nods dreamily and pants some more, droolin' over my member with her hot saliva. Acknowledgin' her sex drunk affirmation, I nod and shift my position once again. Now, my waist is at her chin and my wood is crammed into her mouth with my paws clutchin' the back of her head and my chest above her perked ears. Archin' over I began to all-out doggy hump her, rammin' my glimmerin' member-covered now with my precum and her saliva-into the battered hole, effectively muzzlefuckin' her. She purrs uncontrollably around the intrudin' appendage and takes my length obediently, usin' what little mobility her tongue still has to milk my shaft and gargle my tip.

As in any good orchestral piece, my tempo increases as I become more and more aroused. I begin to drool like one of those goddamned pugs and my tongue, desperately tryin' to regulate my body temperature, lolls out at its full length, dribblin' flicks of saliva across her submissively splayed ears. My knot grows from the size of a walnut to that of tennis ball-each influx leadin' me to drive even harder-until it happens, the moment of climax that pulls only the greatest emotions from the pit of your chest and fills your brain with them. I release my load in a violent crescendo, lettin' out a ravenous howl and diggin' my claws deep into the sex-sodden, claw-torn mattress- forcin' the kitty to drink my lewd white syrup like the bitch she was before collapsin' on top of her with a whimper, drippin' still like a loose faucet to sully her once glossy fur.

I was done here, and now I could rest. The last sight I saw before blankin' out was the panther, lost in her own euphoric place, sloppily droolin' what access cum she couldn't get down onto the ruined mattress beneath her.