FSE

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Early summer had turned the mornings bright, flooding Joe & Rosco’s apartment with enough sun to make it difficult to sleep in– much to Rosco’s amusing frustration.

The tubby wolf padded into the kitchen, thick gray hide on full display save for a pair of massive boxers. He stretched, giving Joe a shameless view of his plush, meaty breasts, then sniffed eagerly at the stove. “You made bacon?” He asked, voice deeper with the remains of sleep, but brightening in the face of food.

“Well, I have to take off in a few minutes, and I wanted to get a nice look at my wuff before work.” Joe leaned across the kitchen table, oats and squash on his own fork. “Figured the smell of breakfast was my best bet of getting you up.”

“I guess it’s not so bad waking up to that.” Rosco shimmied his hips as he took a plate from the cupboard.

Joe’s antlers cast two long shadows up Rosco’s back, curving as they crested over his fleshy rump and climbed past the beautiful, soft fat rolls that curved around from his flanks. The moose couldn’t help but stare just below Rosco’s fluffy, swishing tail. Even with the size of his boxers, that puppy butt peeked over the waistband, both cheeks looking soft and grabbable.

He forced himself to sit back, though, tugging at his tie and trying to readjust the big moose dick in his pants. Joe tried not to give his clients too good a look at his manhood.

Rosco, of course, either didn’t realize Joe’s plight or simply didn’t care. He piled a plate high with bacon, stuck a strip in his mouth, and moved with bouncy steps towards the table. The motion echoed up his tree-trunk thighs, through the hanging crest of belly fat, and finally into his big tits. They bounced with his paws, drawing Joe’s eyes to their fat, dark nipples.

By the time the wolf had sat down beside him, Joe could feel the wet spot of precum at the crotch of his compression shorts– which struggled valiantly against his many inches of meat. The sweet, barbecue-like musk drifting off Rosco’s hide didn’t help matters.

Rosco’s fuzzy snout split into a smile as he munched at the bacon, grease turning his chin slick. “Thanks for not cooking it too long.”

Joe took a deep breath and rubbed one of rosco’s ears, trying to turn his attention from the allure of his hefty body to the simple cuteness of his chubby canine face. “I know you like chewing that lard.”

Rosco nodded, then paused with a muffled little sound. He rubbed one of his paws quickly on his belly, wiping shiny oil into his fur. Joe loved watching Rosco’s coat move, with the natural looseness of his lupine hide resting on a bed of pliable, waffle-batter fat. Ripples flowed out from Rosco’s plump fingers, until he showed off his clean pads like a puppy at suppertime. “Can I look something up–” he swallowed the bacon in his cheeks, “on your phone? I forgot to charge mine last night.”

Joe sighed. “You’re lucky you don’t have an office to get to. You’d get your fat ass fired ten times over.” He reached into his pocket and began to hand it over.

Sticking his tongue out, Rosco leaned forward, moobs hanging over the table. “I think my fat ass would look pretty good in slacks, though. Maybe the boss would just have to keep me around.”

“If you could get a shirt to button over all that.” Joe chuckled, but pulled the phone back as the idea of too-small shirts sparked a memory in his head– the last time he’d used his phone’s browser, when he was alone in the bathroom. “Hold on, gotta close something.”

Joe quickly cleared away the video of a bull and a cow going at it.

Rosco didn’t need to see anything, though. His big bronze eyes sparkled teasingly. “Joe, were you watching...” He leaned even closer to whisper on a bacon-scented breath, “pornography?”

“Oh no,” Joe lamented half-heartedly, “what will my priest think when my gluttonous, lustful, heathen, wolf boyfriend tells him I watch porn?”

Rosco sat back in his chair with a muffled whomp, and lazily extended an arm to take the phone. He spoke with a little smile while he tapped away, “You know, I’d be happy to watch it with you, if you want.”

The damn wolf infected Joe with his horniness again, leaving the moose’s underwear with what would undoubtedly be a few translucent stains. “Maybe, though that video wasn’t exactly your cup of tea, gay boy.” Joe smirked at Rosco’s perked ears and wide-eyed, bashful glance. “Your ears are getting red.”

Rosco tried to tamp them down, but couldn’t keep his tail from wagging behind him. The wolf sunk in his chair, smothering his face in the generous collar of fat around his neck.

Joe grabbed his work satchel and started shoveling the last of his oatmeal in his snout. “Alright puppy, I gotta get going in a minute. You still good to go to that park thing Friday night?”

“Oh! Yeah, sounds fun.” Rosco’s voice was flecked with nervousness, but any party plans did that to him. He handed back the phone, and tapped his claws on the floor with that telltale clicking sound. “Um, Joe?”

The moose took a final bite and looked up. “Mhm?”

Rosco traced a finger on the table, keeping his eyes on it. “Do you miss anything about, like… doing stuff with women?”

Joe let out a laugh, but gazed at the wolf as he finished chewing. Rosco wasn’t hunching, or hiding himself in his arms, but maybe that predator curiosity was just getting the better of him. “It’s not all that different.” Joe shrugged, but scratched his chin and continued. “I mean, with you I kinda have the best of both worlds. Big, meaty guy, but you’re all soft and squeezable. Plus that sheath of yours,” he snorted.

Rosco put on a wry little smile. “Guess you still have a pair of tits to play with.”

“Yours would be big on anyone.” Joe winked at the wolf.

“But there has to be some stuff.”

Joe drummed his fingers on the table. “Alright, well, it was easier to imagine like I was getting them pregnant.”

The fur of Rosco’s neck fluffed out excitedly. “You like that? Breeding stuff?”

“The idea of it, yeah,” Joe said. He stared at Rosco’s belly, and tried not to get his compression shorts even more stained by imagining how many calves he could put in there, ultimately making his eyes drift up to Rosco’s fluffy chest. “And, I always really liked taking someone’s bra off when things were getting steamy. Can’t say why.” He dragged a hoof-cap finger across the tabletop. “Got pretty good at it though.”

“I bet,” Rosco murmured thoughtfully.

Checking his chunky watch, Joe got to his feet and stepped over to Rosco, ruffling his cheek. “You’ve got all the curves I need. But I’m out, puppy, I’ll see you later.”

“Okay, have a nice day.” Rosco lumbered to his feet and rested his chin on the moose’s shoulder, wrapping his long arms around Joe’s back until all that furry pudge squished against him. The soft heat was impossible not to enjoy, but no doubt Rosco’s hide had scented Joe’s blazer with wolf musk.

Well, hopefully Joe wouldn’t have any deer clients today. Or, if he did, hopefully they were kinky.

***

By Friday evening, Joe stomped up the stairs to his apartment. Summer sun and the memory of needy clients had him yanking his tie roughly from his neck. He slung his blazer over his arm and grumbled at the sweat stains under his arms.

But at least he could finally spend a nice night with Rosco. Joe had been so busy with work for the past few days that he hadn’t even had the time to play around with the big puppy. He could feel himself getting hard at just the thought of him. But, Joe paused at their door and leaned down to pick up a package left there.

“Hey Rosco,” Joe called out as he trudged through the door, “something came in the mail for you.”

Rosco’s head appeared above the couch arm, his whole body sprawled out while he played video games. As he saw the package, his big ears jumped. “Oh! I forgot that was coming today!” He tried to roll off his back, huffed in effort, and had to rock back and forth before his weight finally cooperated, landing heavily on his paws before scampering over to the table where Joe had set the box down.

“What is it?” Joe asked, unbuttoning his shirt and taking the opportunity to glance between Rosco’s legs, where the wolf’s boxers were bunched up by the squeezing fat of his thighs. His tired face brightened with a faint smile as he made out the shape of Rosco’s plump balls caught in that fabric.

Rosco held the box close to his chest. “Uh, nothing really.” Before Joe could press the question, Rosco turned on his big, bouncy paws. “I’ll go get dressed for the park!”

Joe sat down at the kitchen table and let out a deep breath as he peeled the dress shirt off his torso. “Yeah, I’ll get ready too, in a few minutes.”

***

Joe wandered through the last of the park party, a hand on Rosco’s arm to keep the wolf close. Red string lights—fitting for this part of the city— signaled that any sense of modesty was to be discarded. Already, Joe could see his friend Terrell, a massive slab of beef in shaggy blond fur, reaching down a chubby fox’s pants.

Rosco huffed and looked up at Joe. The wolf had a bit of tiredness in the eyes, as usual this late into a party, but some deep well of excitement sat beneath. “Hey, do you maybe wanna go… find a nice bush to lie down behind?”

“How could I say no to a face like that?” Joe tipped Rosco’s snout up. The wolf’s ears were angled down just a bit, tentative, but a little tooth poked out of his snout as he gnawed at his lip eagerly. “What’s got you all wired there, pup?”

“I um… we just haven’t done anything for a few nights, so I’m a little pent up.”

Joe could see his fuzzy ears swiveling as he came up with the story. And besides, Rosco left the smell of his sheath everywhere after he pleasured himself; the apartment had been heavy with wolf musk these past few days. But, whatever had the puppy’s fat face so excited, Joe was happy to play along.

“Well,” He patted Rosco’s ass, making the wolf step towards the bush, “I’m pretty pent up too, so let’s get a move on fluffy boy.” Joe readjusted his steel rod of a dick, eyes fixed on Rosco’s massive buns in those shorts.

They found a tree just tall enough to stand beneath. Rosco let out a little chuckle as Joe’s antlers jostled the dark leaves.

The party’s string lights only faintly touched on the forest of Rosco’s fur, but his eyes were hungry for it, seeming to glow like living gold. The eyes of a big, eager hunter. And that hunter bounced on the pads of his paws, coat standing on ends around his neck.

Joe reached for his scruff, digging his fingers into the loose folds of pelt above his shoulders. Warm, silky with the natural oils in his fur, and beneath it, the layer of cushioning fat around his neck. “Who stuffed this puppy so much?” While Rosco huffed, Joe slowly dragged his hands downwards, drawing close to his shoulders.

“W-wait,” Rosco put his big paws on Joe’s chest “let’s get undressed first.”

Joe was only too happy to oblige, slipping his hands under the crest of Rosco’s belly. Lifting those pounds of soft fat like dough across his knuckles, he found the button of Rosco’s shorts. “Guess if I’m gonna fuck a wolf in the bushes, I should get him naked.”

Carefully maneuvering his fingers, Joe unbuttoned and slowly unzipped the shorts. With Rosco’s thick thighs, he had to push down before they fell in a heap around his paws. Joe felt for the boxers around his boyfriend’s hips, but instead cocked a brow as he found a pair of stark white briefs wrapped tight around him. The front bulged out with his hefty balls and fat pad, a wet spot already dripping from it.

“Not your usual undies,” Joe noted, rubbing the base of Rosco’s tail where it emerged from the special hole in his waistband.

“Yeah,” Rosco murmured, breath quick with excitement. “But, um, your turn now.” He reached for Joe’s jeans. Without all the belly fat to move out of the way, Rosco easily undid the moose’s thick belt, revealing firm, muscular thighs that framed a strained jockstrap. Rosco’s pudgy fingers lingered there, big pads tracing the shape of Joe’s muscles. “You always look so manly,” he said, ears perked and darkened inside with a blush. Then, he reached up and started pulling off Joe’s wide-necked tank top, having to lift his chubby arms high to get it past Joe’s antlers.

“You’re quite the big man yourself,” Joe cooed.

Rosco laughed quietly.

“What?” Joe asked

Rosco’s tail wagged. “Nothing.” He lifted his arms, which trembled softly. Joe took the collar of his shirt and lifted it from his shoulders. The cloth slipped upwards, revealing more and more of his plush, expansive belly. His flanks were flecked with the faint light, and then Joe tugged his shirt the rest of the way.

The moose stared, momentarily quiet, while Rosco shifted his weight from foot to foot in burning anticipation.

Rosco’s moobs were covered in a wide, white bra. It’s thin fabric, even with such a large size, squeezed his breasts like muffins expanding in the oven, the shape of his nipples just barely visible through the more padded centers.

The whole thing pressed right into his fat, cords running under his arms and across his broad shoulders to create valleys of wolf pudge.

Rosco breathed, highlighting the dark gray fur of his breasts peeking out against the pale cloth.

Joe reached forward and dipped a finger into his cleavage. Ordinarily, Rosco’s meaty moobs had enough soft fat to rest heavy above his belly. But the bra pushed them up, as if presenting them to Joe. “Hey there big girl,” he huffed, “these look fit to bursting. You don’t mind a big bull moose helping you out, do you?”

“No, Mr. Moose—” Rosco’s needy energy lent itself to his playful voice, especially as Joe’s big fingers pressed against the bra, “do you like them?”

“You’re one busty pup, y’know that?” Joe squeezed lightly, watching Rosco’s ears flick. He grinned and leaned in, speaking with a husky breath, “Big milkers like these, I bet you’d make a good momma wolf.” While Rosco struggled to make words come out of his snout, Joe’s hand drifted down the rolls of fat on his flank.

“I— um…” Rosco swallowed and let his arms lift just a bit so Joe could slip a hand underneath, following the bra’s strap as it dug into the breast fat smothering his side. “I don’t know if I’m ready to be a momma…”

“Know what I think?” Joe slipped his other hand beneath the waistband of Rosco’s undies, stroking his broad hip. “I think I know why you wandered into some big male moose’s territory.”

Rosco glanced down at Joe’s jockstrap, whose waistband was pulled away by the sheer tension of his dick. “W-Why?”

Joe rubbed the sides of his breast and thigh in unison, showing off the thick, fleshy curves of him. “You must be feeling all those momma wolf instincts burning up in here.” He slowly brought his lower hand around until he could hook his thumb into the folds of Rosco’s sheath, sopping wet with precum. “You want me to fill you up, don’t you?”

Rosco’s whine turned into a huffy, “Yes, yeah… I do Mr. Moose. But… I’m not on any birth control…”

“Looks like that’s exactly what you want. Been eating yourself nice and heavy for me, right?” Joe found the clasp at the back of Rosco’s bra, pulled painfully tight against all the plush meat.

“I um…” Rosco shivered at Joe’s thumb exploring his sheath, making his tits wobble in the tight cloth. His voice returned with an erotic heat, “I just get really hungry, that’s all.”

Joe wrangled his fingers with renewed fervor at Rosco’s little self-deception game, hooking under the bra’s clasp until he could finally unlatch it. The little cloth arms nearly snapped off with an irrepressible huff of relief from Rosco.

The big puppy took a deep breath, shimmying his chest with half-closed eyes, indulging in the simple animal pleasure of his breasts being released from sore restraints.

Joe, on the other hand, kept his eyes completely open. He was intimately familiar with the heaving pounds of wolf meat on Rosco’s chest, but there was something tantalizing about the sudden appearance of his gray fur across those sweet hills. He draped the bra on a nearby bush and cupped Rosco’s moobs, gently despite his urge to grip tight, knowing how tender the wolf was across his chest.

Rosco’s habitual nervousness faded as Joe stroked his thumbs softly over the wolf’s puffy nipples. He leaned in, letting his pudgy arms hang loose at his sides. Joe smiled down at his puppy, drifting a hand down to knead his doughy belly.

Joe’s chest warmed at the familiar show of trust. Not many wolves would let some big moose dig his fingers into their belly fat. When Rosco shivered at a gentle squeeze on his chest, Joe murmured into his fuzzy ear, “That alright, big boy? I’m sure they’re a little sore.”

Rosco purred against him. “Your hands feel a lot nicer.”

“It’s because you need a man’s hands on you,” Joe returned to his lusty, arrogant tone. “These fat tits know how desperate you are.”

Rosco whined softly.

Joe’s dick ached against his jockstrap, but he took a moment to simply enjoy the feel of Rosco’s body before he went further. A pleasant slickness brushed Joe’s fingers— beneath Rosco’s surface fluff, his sweet, musky oil kept his coat shiny and luscious. Joe pressed beneath that bounty of gray fur, toying with the loose, sensitive skin beneath.

Rosco shifted his weight from foot to foot, a needy huff escaping him as Joe played.

“It’s a good thing I smelled your heat first, puppy. You’re too soft to be wandering out all alone.” He tugged at Rosco’s skin. Although it was most loose and stretchy around his scruff, every inch was supple and yielding with the layers of buttery fat they lay across. “All this pelt must have been so constricted under that bra.” Joe grinned. “You’re lucky, though, that you have so much of it.”

“Hmm?” Rosco blinked through his lust-heavy eyes. “Why’s that, Mr Moose?” His big hips softly humped against Joe’s, the motion slow and clearly driven by thoughtless, animal need.

Joe jiggled Rosco’s belly by the wide, lower ridge, while leaning forward to press his cloth-covered dick into it. “Because I’m gonna pump a lot of calves in you.”

Rosco nearly yelped in surprise as Joe lunged forward, shoving him down towards the grass.

Joe slipped a hand behind Rosco’s head to be sure he didn’t hit it on anything, and thankfully Rosco had pounds of wolf ass to cushion the rest of his impact.

Rosco’s fat arms splayed out to either side of him, and his fluffy tail wagged against the ground, big eyes staring up at the moose pinning him down. Joe’s knees straddled his thighs, and his head cast Rosco’s face in shadow, leaving the reflective bronze of his eyes to take center stage.

Joe held Rosco down with a hand on his chest, squishing his moobs like bread dough until he could feel the thick, tender muscle. Joe’s other hand trailed down Rosco’s belly until it crested his lower fat and shoved down under his tight briefs. The cloth held his fingers close to Rosco’s damp furnace of a crotch.

But despite Joe’s fingers swimming in precum-soaked fur, it was his other hand that drew his attention. Beneath that palm, the big puppy’s heart was pounding like he’d been sprinting. “Whoa there wolfy,” Joe said heavily, “what’s got you so frantic, huh?”

Rosco’s swallowed and mumbled, “You um, you just have your hand all over my boobs and,” he wiggled his hips, “my um…”

Joe grinned and slipped all his fingers into Rosco’s fat sheath, finding his hard, stubby dick swimming in slick fluid. “What? This wolf pussy?” He tugged Rosco’s briefs down his thighs and brought his hand to his mouth, licking the wolf’s musky precum from his fingers. He was salty, greasy like bacon, and had that faint meaty edge that Joe had learned to recognize as venison. It’d taken him a while to get used to Rosco’s predator scents and tastes, but now, whether or not it made him some kind of herbivore deviant, they made his dick practically writhe in his jockstrap. “How else am I supposed to get you pregnant?”

Joe finally yanked down his jockstrap, revealing his long, stone-hewn dick. Even without the underwear, a soreness radiated out as his own, tight sheath struggled to handle the hardness of his flesh. A drop of precum drooled onto the fur of Rosco’s belly.

“You um… you’re pretty big, Mr. Moose.” Rosco’s hot breath curled around the tip of Joe’s dick.

“This is what a real calf-maker looks like.” Joe lowered his hips until his churning, lemon-sized balls rested on the wolf’s thick comforters of belly fat, then slowly pumped forward, dragging his dick over Rosco’s navel, painting a streak of precum as he did.

Rosco whined, hips shifting needily underneath the big moose. “Are… are you really gonna get me pregnant?”

“Are you kidding?” Joe laughed. “Your body fucking needs my calves.” He leaned down and bit one of Rosco’s moobs, licking at his big nipple and feeling out the fat and meat with his blunt teeth. “These big tits are probably already filling up with wuff milk,” he trailed his snout down Rosco’s body, pausing to knead at his love handle, “your doughy belly waiting for me to fill it,” he pulled back until he could kiss Rosco’s thick leg, where it gave way to the cushion of his puppy butt on the ground, “these wide momma hips,” and finally, he lifted Rosco’s belly with his snout, to bite the elastic of his briefs and tug down, slowly working the cloth down Rosco’s constricted thighs. “You’re gonna make me some big, strong calves.”

A grateful huff escaped Rosco’s snout as his fat wolf balls were freed from the squeezing underwear, leaving all his sexual musk to burn into Joe’s nostrils.

But, of course, Joe had his real prize to enjoy. A short, thick cock rose above Rosco’s fat pad, but it wasn’t long enough to pull the hefty knot out of his loose, bountiful sheath. Folds of furry skin piled up around Rosco’s dick, keeping it snuggly held against his crotch while the inside of those folds glistened in the faint light.

Joe licked his lips as he caught Rosco’s eye, then dove down, burying his snout into the fatty wolf’s matching sheath. As a moose, Joe had a good-sized tongue, and found it fit easily amongst Rosco’s twitching dick. His mouth was swathed in the salty meat of Rosco’s musk, like the bloody steaks that Joe cooked for him.

He worked his tongue in forceful circles around the very stem of Rosco’s dick, feeling out the smooth shape of his baculum underneath cords of sensitive flesh.

“Mmmm—” Rosco bit down on his snout, both of his big mitts pawing helplessly at Joe’s antlers.

“You wandered into my territory, puppy. This is mine now.” Joe lifted his snout, chin dripping with lupine precum, and opened his mouth wide enough to swallow Rosco’s dick. But he didn’t do anything so gentle as sucking it for him. Instead, he lined his broad herbivore teeth up behind the wolf’s knot, and began to gnaw on that point of sensitive connection, careful not to put any real pressure behind his jaws.

Even so, as Joe worked over Rosco’s dick-bone, the poor wolf squirmed in unrelenting sensation. “Ah— Mr.— Mr. Moose, please…”

Joe planted a hand hard on Rosco’s belly, squishing it out like a great furry pillow and making Rosco wheeze for a moment. With his other hand, Joe gripped one of Rosco’s meaty, shuddering thighs.

With a wet sound, Joe freed his own snout again, mercifully leaving the baculum be. “Please what, wolfy?”

Rosco caught his breath and stared, wide-eyed, at the aggressive moose.

“Tell me what you want, big girl,” Joe said.

Rosco only whimpered, while his dick leaked helplessly in the air.

“Guess we need to get you a little more ready.”

Joe returned to his feast, ears filling with wet lapping and slurping sounds as he dragged the folds of Rosco’s sheath past his lips. The wolf’s plush fat ensconced Joe’s head with warmth, surrounding him with quaking belly and thigh. He could feel Rosco’s legs spasm against his sides as he sucked at the wolf’s skin.

“Go…” Rosco stammered with an uncontrolled, dreamy tone, “go deeper Mr. Moose.”

Instead, Joe released Rosco’s sheath and lurched forward again. “If you want anything filling up this pussy of yours,” he grabbed his own throbbing cock, “tell me what you need.”

Rosco contained a desperate whine for just a second before his voice broke out of his fuzzy snout in a shameless beg, “I want you to fuck me Mr. Moose, even… even if you might get me pregnant.” His breath poured out in great, roiling huffs.

Joe adjusted his legs to leverage the power of his muscles and lined his dick up between Rosco’s thighs, the hot tip resting on the juicy lip of his sheath. The moose’s hard flesh contrasted Rosco’s soft skin, with his short, fat canine cock trying to stand up to it. “Ready to be a momma?” Joe asked, hands planted to either side of Rosco’s shoulders, staring down into his big, tender eyes.

Rosco’s trusting nature threaded through his gaze back at Joe. He nodded nervously.

Joe thrusted forward, burying his painfully-hard cock into the wet confines of the wolf’s sheath. He shut his eyes, enjoying the sensation of his own firm muscles pressing into Rosco’s pillowy body. He was so yielding and warm compared to the ground beneath them, like a living island of comfort.

Between thrusts, Joe could feel Rosco’s hot breath panting up his neck. The wolf’s tongue hung weakly out of his mouth, and his breasts heaved with each inhale. Joe grabbed one of them, squeezing as he looked into Rosco’s face. He was putting too much focus into his humping to talk, but just the idea of Rosco getting pregnant with his calves made Joe’s spine smolder. His hard masculine bullhood, from lemon-sized balls and broad, solid shoulders, to the very heat in his blood– it drove him to pump into this wolf. Clear, slick need kept his mate’s pussy wet and ready for calves.

As his hips pulled back and forth, Joe shivered. Rosco’s sheath was loose enough to eagerly take him, but alongside Rosco’s own throbbing cock, those folds of velvet skin were truly wrapped around them. Rosco’s flesh took Joe’s massive rod into his warm, vulnerable places, caressing the girth of him as he tugged that sheath with his thrusts.

“M—” Rosco whimpered a few words past his slobbering snout, “Mister…” he struggled to keep talking.

Joe slammed down, burying himself to the hilt. He grabbed Rosco’s shoulders and pressed him down under his own heavy body. “F-fuck,” he blurted as Rosco’s massive thighs spasmed, squeezing against the moose meat inside him.

Rosco’s fat chest filled, struggling against Joe’s pecs with the strength of big lupine lungs. A howl formed at the back of Rosco’s throat,

For a split second, Joe wondered if it might be fun to announce to the whole park what they were doing, but the thought of sharing Rosco with anyone right then— sharing the wolf he was about to make a momma— made his legs pin Rosco down. Joe pressed his snout onto his mate’s, muffling Rosco’s howl with his tongue.

The wolf’s big body shuddered under him, all that pillowy meat turning huffy and weak as his stubby dick pulsed against Joe’s.

Rosco struggled to breathe through just his nose. His plush tongue yielded to a possessive kiss from the big moose who had claimed him. And just as Joe’s tongue pushed firmly into the warm confines of Rosco’s mouth, his dick drove hard into the base of the wolf’s sheath.

Joe kept him there, stifling the whimpers and squirms that came from Rosco as he pumped thick moose seed into his belly.

Slowly, the sore hardness of Joe’s manhood started to calm. He pried his snout off of Rosco’s.

The wolf panted, picking his breath back up in grateful, hot puffs. Joe could feel Rosco’s breasts pressing like thick comforters against him as his lungs filled. Though Joe didn’t yet move off of him, he stopped pinning Rosco’s limbs, allowing the wolf to shuffle on the grass.

Rosco’s thighs shimmied in soft, sensual patterns, pleasuring Joe’s spent dick inside him.

“Here,” Joe mumbled, finally rolling to the side. He patted Rosco’s chest. “Take a good breath wuff.” He drifted his fingers through that thick forest of fur, watching the energy start to come back to that big lupine body. “I didn’t hurt you, did I?”

Rosco, in turn, rolled his tubby weight back over to Joe, coming to cuddle close and banish the cool of night with his affectionate heat. “No, don’t worry… just intense.” He nuzzled his snout against Joe’s neck. “Felt a little like a fur rug. I forget sometimes how heavy you are.”

Joe laughed quietly. He lay back and stared at the canopy above, starlight dappling through the tiny gaps in the leaves. But before his mind could drift away, he feel something wet lapping at his skin. Glancing back down, Joe found Rosco licking him, drifting his tongue from chest to chin. A part of Joe tensed, still uncomfortable with such a lupine, open form of affection— being groomed with another man’s tongue. But he made himself relax. It was what made people familiar in wolf society, and he had just filled the big puppy up with his calves, hadn’t he?

He caressed Rosco’s back with one hand and grasped his belly with the other, finding where his fluffy rolls gathered on his flank. “Gonna be a big litter,” Joe said.

Rosco chuckled. For a few minutes, he simply kept licking, as if trying to find something in Joe’s bristly fur. Eventually, he licked the side of Joe’s jaw, before looking up at him with big eyes. “Do you…” he trailed off.

“What?” Joe asked, holding Rosco a little tighter to urge him to go on.

The wolf nibbled at his snout before finally finishing, “Do you really think I’d make a good momma?”

Joe looked at him with a strange, mocking expression, but stopped as he recognized the genuine curiosity, the vulnerability in his big boy’s face. “I mean… yeah, I think..” Joe wasn’t exactly the expert on good parents. “You’re soft, and warm. I always get less stressed when I see you, and you sure give some great hugs.”

There still seemed to be something small bothering the wolf, and Joe only realized it when a breeze cooled his sweat-damp fur. What kind of mate impregnated such a sweet wolfy, and then just left him with unkempt fur?

So, despite his natural hesitance, Joe ran his tongue slowly across the top of Rosco’s head. He lapped at him two more times, wetting the fluff on his cheek to the tune of Rosco’s surprised, blissful laughter.

Joe tried to be subtle about picking the long strands of fur off his tongue– it was hardly fair with how much thicker and oilier Rosco’s coat was.

But, he couldn’t be bothered for long, not with Rosco snuggling his warm heft close against Joe’s chest.

After a moment of the two breathing quietly against each other, Rosco draped his arms across Joe’s shoulders, and murmured as he embraced him with all those pounds of wolf. “I think you’d make a pretty good dad.”

Although Joe’s hand rubbed Rosco’s shoulder, the moose was utterly silent, letting Rosco’s words settle on him like the shadow of the tree above.

***

Joe wasn’t sure if they fell asleep, or just lost a few minutes to darkness and warmth in each other’s arms, but all of the sudden, he saw Rosco’s ears swivel.

The wolf lifted his head, but kept low on top of Joe.

Joe was about to ask him what was up, when he caught the sound of footsteps passing close by the bushes– the only things concealing the two naked, cum-stained men.

He put a few quieting fingers on Rosco’s snout.

The intruders’ voices sounded vaguely familiar, a pair of guys Joe had probably talked to a few times before at night-parties like this. He could just make out the shape of a bear standing on the other side of the bush, though thankfully the tree’s shadow seemed to hide him and Rosco well enough.

“God damn!” The bear whistled.

Rosco looked at Joe curiously. Then, the bush rustled. Joe remembered where he’d tossed Rosco’s bra just as the bear plucked it from the branches.

The bear held the bra up to his own chest, proving that it was many sizes too big for him— a warm flush of pride spread down Joe’s spine at the thought of his boyfriend’s impressive tits. “Look at the size of this thing!” The bear blurted. “How the hell did we miss a big girl like this huh? Talk about mommy material.”

Although Rosco’s tail wagged in embarrassment, Joe could only grin down at the big, furry boy, squeezing him tight. “This momma’s taken,” he whispered.