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One Time Thing

It was the scent that did it. I know, as a canine I should be used to an acute sense of smell, especially when I'm part Beagle for chrissakes. But I still wasn't prepared for what it would do to me...and what he would do to me.

Ahhh Jason...that big beautiful lug. A bull with more beef than brains, we had grown up together in our deadshit suburban street and found each other's company better than being alone. We had nothing much in common, nothing much except being the same age in the same place. Our lives had the same soundtrack though; one thing we did have in common, was our taste in music.

We would hang out at each other's place often enough, listening to music and spinning shit, and it became a bit of a habit. I would help him with stuff, algebra or his latest essay, and he would try to get me into weightlifting in his home setup out in the garage. He never gave up on me, even when I couldn't get half the weight to budge that he lifted without breaking a sweat.

Ahhhh....sweat. Sorry...that memory again.

See, he was a bit of a narcissist, I knew it but you forgive your childhood friends those things. And, in spite of the teenage jock stereotype, he was also a bit of a clean freak at least with his body, according to him, because he knew girls liked that and he wanted to impress them. He liked to have his headfur just so, his coat nicely maintained, his body smelling of aftershave and deodorant so I rarely got the full on tidalwave of bull that undid me that day. That's my excuse.

I was waiting at his place, sitting on his bed reading a textbook. We had long since become regular features at each other's house, enough that I knew where his spare key was kept and his parents thought nothing of finding me there waiting for Jase. We were supposed to be studying for a chemistry test, but the selfish fuck was late, as usual. He had football training, and nothing in life was more important than kicking some poor leather bladder around an oval, I knew that by now.

So when he finally got home, I was a little pissy. Nothing much, just ticked, and in a bit of an odd mood. He didn't seem to notice though.

"Haaay Andy! Fuck training was tough...so, how's it looking? Are you going to be able to get me to a pass?" he said in a breezy voice as he dropped his training bag in a corner.

I grunted, not looking up from my books. I wanted to wait the fucker out, and make him apologise for being late. It didn't seem like he was interested though.

"What's wrong mate? You on your period or something?"

I gave him a withering stare and went back to my text book. It had been a joke of his, ever since I bit the bullet and told him I was gay. I guess I was kind of relieved he didn't tell me to fuck off, but the jokes about being a girl or biting pillows kind of wore thin after a while. Especially when I was already in the shits with him.

So I just grunted again, and pretended to be absorbed in the chemistry text.

He snorted back then, realising at last that I was in a foul mood.

"Moody just like a giiiirl. Fuck, even Natalie wasn't this moody..."

Now he had my attention, but by supreme effort of will I didn't show it. Wasn't...wasn't. Past tense. Don't tell me she finally got rid of the big stupid selfish piece of bull meat...

"Suppose you are going to bust my chops just like she did too."

His voice was so flat, I could tell he was hurting under the anger. I wasn't in the mood to console him though, I was in the mood to revel in his pain a little. So, I guess I could be a bit of a cunt too. But he had provoked me.

"Fine. Have it your way then Andy...I'm going to ignore you if you are going to play that game."

I heard the sound of cloth landing untidily on carpet. It was a heavy sound, sort of a 'whumpf'. Out of the corner of my eye, I had seen the movement, and realised he had pulled off his sweat-stained training top and thrown it carelessly on the floor. It joined a collection of dirty clothes that littered the room. As fastidious as he was about his personal appearance, he didn't give two shits about his room. It resembled a war zone.

"Ahhhhhhhh..."

He had taken up a spot across from his built in cupboard. The whole of the cupboard was covered in mirrors, one big expanse, and he was looking at it. I wondered stupidly what was so engrossing, until I realised with a start that what he found engrossing was himself. The narcissistic prick was ogling his own body.

The chemistry text lay forgotten as I took this in. In all our time together, I had worked out that my mate was a bit into himself, but I had never seen this sort of display before. It was simultaneously disturbing and intensely arousing. He was so caught up in his own reflection, he seemed to have forgotten I was there.

The young bull was pulling a series of bodybuilding poses, flexing his chest, his abdomen, his arms and shoulders. For the first time, I got to really take a good look at his body. I had to admit, the football training was paying off. He was seriously buff, well defined and bulky, with just a hint of puppy fat at his belly that in its own way was horribly endearing. He made his pecs jump one at a time, and I had to cover my muzzle to stop a gasp, and then he lifted one arm, flexed his bicep, and kissed it while looking at the mirror.

"Not bad guns..."

"Fuck yeah!"

I had to agree, and it was a moment before I realised I had agreed out loud. We had goofed around a couple of times, and once he even asked me to kiss him when we were playing the fool but I knew he wasn't serious. This was the first time I had ever acknowledged his body, I realised. And I had no idea how he would take it.

He turned his head, all the while keeping his pose, and eyed me slowly with those big brown eyes. He then winked, and made his bicep jump for me.

"Like what you see Andy?"

I could only nod, and his eyes twinkled with mischief. Then it hit me. My nostrils flared, and I sniffed the air luxuriously, drinking in that scent as if it were nectar.

From under his raised armpit came the most incredible scent. Deep, musky bull sweat. He had come straight from football training, and instead of heading to the shower immediately as was his custom, my funky mood seemed to have made him forget his usual pattern in favour of checking out his body. And by extension, letting me check out his body. And as much as the sight caught my attention, the scent was driving me insane.

His room had a bit of the scent, it was after all littered with his dirty washing so it had to be. But nothing there was quite like the ripe deep musk coming from his post-workout body, and it made me almost whimper just smelling it. I wanted to get closer to the source so much, but for now I waited, and he turned back to the mirror with a snort and kept on posing. He did acknowledge my presence though, so that was something.

"Should have seen me tonight Andy...coach made us do some real weights, not the puny little numbers you lift."

"Uh huh..."

"The cunt works us hard, but it's worth it. Check out this mate..."

Never turning from the mirror, he struck a pose with both arms raised. I saw every muscle in his back stand out under the brown and white fur, then he turned and took up a thinker pose with one arm raised and his bicep and tricep almost popping they were so flexed. I whimpered. And the scent grew.

"Tonight I stayed on to try out for the school bench press record...and I did it! "

"So that's why you were so late?" I was stunned that some trivial fucking record had kept him from coming home like he was supposed to. He interpreted my shock in a different light it seemed.

"Yep...took a few attempts, but I beat that arsehole Damien, you know, the shire horse? Fucker thought horses were soooo superior...I showed him some real bull power."

I could see the bull power right there right now, and smell it. The room reeked of it. And fuck it smelt fine.

"My chest is going to hurt so much in a couple of days. And my arms...ohhh fuck. But it will be worth it remembering the look on that horse's muzzle."

"W...want me to...give you a massage? Might...well, might make it hurt less..."

He gave me that look again, the slow twinkle as he turned his head to face me, body still front and centre with the mirror.

"You any good?"

Well, I had no clue, but I could be an enthusiastic learner. To set his mind at ease though, I nodded vigorously. He seemed satisfied, turning back to the mirror with a smile.

"Knock yourself out Andy."

That was my plan. And I planned on that bull scent doing the knocking. Anything beyond that...well, I had no fucking idea.

Standing up in a trance, I padded over to the bull. He was still standing, a bit more relaxed now though, still facing the mirror. I caught his reflection, looking back at me with a wink.

"Let's see if you have better paws than Natalie."

Well, that was a challenge I couldn't resist. I started with his shoulders, feeling their bulk under my fingers. The yielded to my touch reluctantly, and I rubbed in gentle circles uncertain what to do.

"Harder...fuck, you are just like a girl Andy..."

That got a bark from me, and I dug my claws into his shoulder. He laughed, the fucker giggled, and I laughed along and rested my head on his back. My nostrils opened and I sucked in a lungful of that scent, and my tongue extended absentmindedly and I licked his spine, tasting a rich rivulet of that sweat on his coat...

"Ohhhhh yeah...."

I realised what I had done. And instead of getting angry, it seemed as if he...liked it. A lot.

"More of that."

I didn't need more encouragement. My tongue bathed his back, feeling every ridge of muscle as I licked up his sweat and drew a chorus of sighs from my stud mate. His sweat filled my muzzle as well as my nostrils, and down into my guts where it seemed to light a fire that burned all the way to my cock. I was hard in my jeans, so very hard.

Then he lifted one arm again, hand on his head gripping a horn, bicep and tricep resting but bulging anyway. They were huge, like big water balloons.

"Yeah Andy...that feels so good...now the guns...kiss the guns for me..."

His muscle jumped when I touched it with my tongue. It felt alive, like a little animal under that fur, and I suckled it hungrily and drank in every last drop of sweat. I wanted more though, and I knew where to get it, so I lapped under his arm, along the tricep and down to his armpit. He had his eyes closed at first, but as my tongue progressed, he opened one to look at me with a sort of sardonic glance as if to say, 'you can't be serious'. I was, and I wasn't taking no for an answer.

My muzzle fitted so perfectly into his armpit. The coarse hairs tickled my nose, until I burrowed in there nice and tight, and opened my muzzle to lick and sniff. The stench of bull sweat was overpowering, like a drug. I drew in a lungfull and pulled some of his pit hairs into my muzzle to suckle.

I kept expecting him to make me stop. I kept expecting this to end. So I just went for it, waiting for the boom to lower. And it never did.

Having worshipped his armpit, I felt his chest needed it next. My tongue kept moving, now onto his straining pectoral, across a wide expanse of muscled furry chest. I hesitated an inch from his nipple. It looked so beautiful, pink and pert, surrounded by a wide brown areola and a ring of coarser dark brown hairs. I licked all around it first, so close, ignoring his grunts, until I couldn't resist it anymore and clamped my lips around the little nub and suckled.

"Fuckkkk..."

His cry was music to my ears almost as rich and beautiful as the scent of mull sweat was to my nose. I wanted more of that, and I licked and then nibbled his nip, feeling it swell impressively under my attentions and hearing his cries of surprise and delight fill the air.

He wouldn't look directly at me, I realised. He looked at us, in the mirror, as if it helped him keep a distance. I didn't care right then how he was doing it, I just cared that he was doing it. And I was going to push the envelope as far as I could.

When my tongue crested the mountain of his pec and fell into the valley between them, it seemed logical to follow the natural geography of his body. Down I would go, from the little patch of coarser furs between his pecs, down between the clenching muscles of his abdomen. He had the cutest little belly button, an 'outie', and I lavished it in kisses until he giggled like a little calf, but my real goal lay a little lower.

He was wearing his training tracksuit bottom, made of loose soft fabric, and it had fallen down almost off his hips. The waistband of his briefs was exposed, Aussiebums I noted, the sexy fucker. And they in turn and fallen a little, down his hips, exposing the point of his hipbones, the bottom of his abdomen in a perfect V, and the very top of his patch of pubes, almost black, looking soft and inviting just poking over the band of his briefs.

My exploration of his navel over, I looked up. He was still looking in the mirror, head straight up, eyes glazed, hands now on his head clasping his horns. His biceps were flexing alternately, left, right, left, right, and his tail was swishing a little nervously, but otherwise he seemed impassive, like a true bovine. The rest of him wasn't impassive though, I could see that well enough from this vantage point. For one reason his pants were falling down was the weight of swollen bullcock currently tenting them out right in front of my muzzle.

I let my paws grip his thighs, rubbing gently on the outside, then on the inside to watch what happened. His pants gave a sudden jerk as his cock responded to my signals, and he let out a shuddering gasp.

My tongue took that as an invitation. I licked along the top of his waistband, from hip to hip across his pubes then back, sucking the soft hairs into my muzzle to nibble, then poking my tongue under the fabric. So close...

"Stop....stop mate..."

It was the moment of truth. I looked up, and saw him looking down at me, eyes blazing. We held that pose for what seemed like an age, and then he gave a shrug. And then he smiled.

"Ahhh fuck...just this once..."

Hooking my fingers into his waistband, I pulled his briefs down and out. His length sprung out to greet me, swollen, pink, so very fine. And under it, a pair of the biggest sweaty balls I had ever seen. And my muzzle was drawn like a moth to a candle.

"Ahhhh!"

I buried my nose in his sack. The smell was even better, richer, full of notes like a symphony. The Jason symphony, in musk, teenage cum, sweat. He reeked, still damp from training, and I whimpered as my senses filled with him.

My tongue poked out tentatively at first, then bolder, lapping his scrotum, just barely touching, licking the underside and making him moo in pleasure, then up his sheath, and I stuck my tongue between his straining cock and his sheath and licked out his funky depths and ignored his babbling cries until I finally reached the summit of his cock with my tonguetip and tasted his essence dripping from a wide open urethra.

"Fucking hell Andy."

Muzzle wide open, and it had to be to accommodate that thick meat, I slowly slid down his shaft, all the while looking up at his face. He had screwed his eyes tight closed now, hands together on top of his cute head, horns almost shaking, nostrils flaring as he breathed deep and slow. I had him. He was mine.

I cupped his testicles, hefting their bulk, and squeezed, making him bellow so cutely. Then again a bit rougher, and he moaned. I bobbed on his length, taking him as deep as I could into my muzzle, and he stood still as a statue, trying hard I thought not to react to what was happening to him. I took that as a challenge too...well, I do I like challenges.

Mauling his balls with one paw, I let the other side under, until I found his taint. Just a clawtip, slowly sliding across the soft fur of his perineum. He had a beautiful ass, I could tell by touch. A forest of soft hairs, that joined up with the patch of pubes around his cock that had looked so inviting poking above his briefs. He even had a little patch between his testicles, and I teased it with my fingers while the other hand zeroed in on his pucker and rubbed in disturbing circles the very ring of his straight boy anus. I could feel him shudder but he didn't pull away. He did the opposite.

One hand came down, hesitant, then surer, to grip the back of my head. He played with my headfur, and rubbed my ears, then pushed, and slowly, surely, forced more of his bullcock into my willing muzzle by pulling me down his shaft.

I couldn't take it all, in spite of his urging, but I did my best, and when that wasn't enough, slid my tongue along the underside of his cock to touch his scrotum. That did it for my bull, and I felt his cock give a sudden shudder in my muzzle.

I wanted to see though, so I ignored his urgent grappling with my head and pulled off. He bellowed, and I looked up to see he had opened his eyes and they looked amazed, and horrified, and so so hot. Then I felt his cock shudder against my lips, and I licked the underside of his head.

Well, he lost it then. I saw his urethra pulse, and his slit opened wide, and he gave a sudden jerk and shot a long rope of cum right across the room. I gripped his cock and jacked, and he shot again, balls dancing, one long bellow drawn from his lungs and every perfectly formed jock muscle tensed. He didn't need to pull a bodybuilding pose now, his orgasm had done the job perfectly.

I wanted the taste though, so I engulfed the head of his cock with my muzzle and took the rest of his load, several shots of thick bull milk to fill my belly and leave me tasting musk for days. And the scent...ahh, I had found something better than bull sweat. The smell of fresh teenage bull cum; his sheath gave me a foretaste, but the real thing...

"Holyfuck...I didn't think....you would...go through with it!"

He had taken a step backwards, probably the first one in his life, pants around his ankles, cock still hanging there semi hard and dripping the remains of his orgasm. He had let go of my head, hands by his side, fingers clenching and stretching as if he might make a fist or not. And he was staring at me with that look, the one he had when he came, such a mix.

And I just looked at him while my nostrils flared and I drank in the last of that smell, sweat mixed with cum. Magic.

He pulled his pants up not gracefully and trotted to the bathroom. I heard the water start as he took a shower. While he was occupied, I took his discarded workout top and stuffed it in my bag. I figured he wouldn't miss it in the general chaos of his room.

When he came out, towel around his waist, and another rubbing his headfur dry, I got to watch his routine, careful grooming of his plaits, shining horns, layers and layers of deodorant. I missed the smell, but at least I had a momento.

Then he settled on the bed and proceeded to ask me chemistry questions as if nothing had happened. I was puzzled, and let it slide, because I wanted to believe I guess. But I should have known.

The moment of truth came the next day, back at my house. We were hanging out as usual, and I wanted some more of what we had last night. And I wanted that stink, the potent stink of bull. I made sure we went to the school gym before we went home, and before he could retreat to the shower, I stuck my muzzle under his armpit and sniffed. Ahhhhh so good...

"Hey! What the...?"

I didn't see his puzzlement, just made my move instead, paws diving under his rugby top to seek out those delicious nipples. But before I could complete my quest, I found myself on the bed, sore and angry, with my bull angry too, snorting like a bull too as he stood in quivering anger and looked at me in anguish and surprise.

"Andy, it was a one time thing only...we don't...we aren't a thing, this isn't a thing, I'm not...I'm not..."

I apologised. After all, it was the scent that did it, I knew. It wasn't his fault it smelled that good; or what it did to my cock.

Days passed, and we tiptoed around each other. Our parents grew worried, knowing something was up. I brushed aside their questions; how do you describe the power of bull sweat? Or the sight of his cock, pulsing out his first load with another guy? Or the way his balls danced in my paws?

I did have a moment of perfect satisfaction though. It came one month later, with the football season well in train. I had taken up watching the team, and Jase would see me by the sidelines, cheering them on each game. He started smiling at me again, those big brown eyes twinkling like I remembered. Then one night, I got a text.

"m8 I no I said 1 time thing only but hehe maybe we could make it 2 2nite"

He still knew how to get into my house, the spare key under the rock beside the overgrown fishpond. Pity he didn't see the signs.

I looked up and saw him in the doorway to my bedroom, eyes wide, muzzle open, hurt and shock and alarm written all over his muzzle. And I caught his scent too; he had covered himself in aftershave and deodorant, like he was going on a date. Silly bull; if he knew me like he was supposed to, he would know I wanted him natural.

Still, he got to watch me going down on his teammate and nemesis, the shire horse stud Damien. I had learned after my encounter with Jase. I knew what I liked, and I had more confidence going after it. And if there was anything close to the rich scent of bull sweat and musk, stallion sweat came a pretty close second. And his balls after a hard training session; ahhh, fuck they tasted fine. And the way that flare pulsed and spread as he came...

And Damien seemed to have no problems using my muzzle as much as I wanted.

I did text him back though, if a little late.

"Sorry m8, but u said 1 time only. Besides hosses are hotter hehe."

I liked that added dash of angry, but I kind of knew the truth too. At night, when it was time to sleep, I'd get his training top out of my closet and cuddle up to it in bed and jack off remembering the look of his cock when he came and bathe in the remains of that scent. One day maybe; for now, though, it was just a one time thing.