Let Sleeping Dogs Tie
Lawrence helps his dad with an electrical job in his neighbor's house. He goes to collect payment, and finds his neighbor drunk, asleep, and with his dick hanging out. What's a lab to do?
Hello hello. This is another standalone story, although it is set in the same neighborhood as my last story. I greatly appreciate the feedback and love for "Meeting the Neighbor", and I hope you like this one as well.
Lawrence leaned against the weathered bricks of the Russell house, waiting for his dad to arrive. The house's age was apparent in the sagging roof and peeling paint chips. Despite the decay, there was a certain charm. It looked like the kind of house a young couple would renovate and resell on one of those network television shows. Lawrence's own home just down the street was similar, except his house had a pale blue and brown exterior as opposed to this house's yellow and black. Autumn leaves filled the gutters to capacity. The labrador remembered the last time the Russell house had been painted. Mr. Russell had invited the entire neighborhood to help, and had rewarded everyone with a cookout afterwards.
As the young labrador reminisced, he watched his father finally pull onto the street in his work van. The older labrador hopped out, toolbox already in hand, and trudged up the sloped street towards Lawrence. Like the house, Lawrence's dad had seen better days. Also like the house, the older dog was sturdy all the way through, and had plenty of years left to give. His fur, once a vibrant honey, had deepened into a rich chocolate streaked with grey tones. He wore grease stained work clothes, made snug by the dog's burly build. He hefted the toolbox comfortably by his side like he'd done for the last couple decades. Lawrence would have offered to help carry it if his arm wasn't sore from dragging the even bigger toolbox that now sat next to him..
“Have you knocked yet?" Lawrence's dad asked, spotting his son at the side of the house.
“Not yet, I was waiting for you." Lawrence replied, getting ready to lift his toolbox off the ground.
“You could've started without me. You're a fast learner, I bet you would've been able to figure it out yourself by now. Hell, I bet you'll be outdoing your old man soon enough." the older labrador gripped Lawrence's shoulder and beamed in pride.
Lawrence's dad knocked firmly on the door. Then again, a little louder. No response. The old labrador tried the handle, finding it unlocked. He pushed the door open.
“Dad, maybe we should wait. Maybe they're not home." Lawrence suggested.
“Nah, Mark knows we're coming. I bet he's passed out on the couch again," said Lawrence's dad. Sensing his son's hesitation, he reassured the younger lab. “It's okay, really. I've known Mark for a long time. He won't mind a bit if I wake him up. If anything, he'll ask if I want to stick around for a drink." Lawrence's dad stepped into the house, holding the door open for Lawrence. The younger lab hefted his toolbox inside. He was almost certain his biceps had grown an inch over the summer just by lugging this thing around with him all the time.
The smell of stale beer and slight mildew greeted the labrador's nostrils. It took his eyes some time to adjust to the low yellowish light throughout the hall. The carpeted floor had bits of debris scattered through the fabric and several footprints leading from the door. Even so, for a house with an emotionally absent father and three boys, it could have been much worse.
Exactly as Lawrence's dad had predicted, Mr. Russell sprawled out on the living room couch in front of a box television. His snoring filled the room. The middle-aged doberman wore a faded t-shirt and floral patterned boxers that held his package neatly to his body. Grey hair covered his eyes and muzzle. A line of empty beer cans piled up besides the couch under the doberman's hand. Lawrence remembered how Mr. Russell looked a few years ago, before his wife had passed away. He had been big and muscular, always showing off his biceps while he grilled during the neighborhood cookouts. Now his physique had softened. He was still thick, but abs had been replaced by a gut, and once defined features now held undefined fat.
“Mark." Lawrence's dad said, shaking the doberman's shoulder gently.
“Yeah?" the doberman grumbled, cracking his eyes open just enough to see the labs.
“Hey bud, it's Dan. Lawrence and I are here to fix the lights. We're a little early."
“Oh right, lights," Mark muttered, wiping the sleep from his eyes. He gestured vaguely towards the hall, not bothering to pick himself up off the couch. “Kitchen lights been flickering."
Lawrence's dad looked at his son. “Might be a loose connection," he clapped his hands together. “Thanks Mark. You get back to sleep. Lawrence and I will get to it."
The labs entered the kitchen, spotting the problem right away. Like the old doberman had said, several ceiling lights strobed as if struggling to maintain a steady connection. Lawrence and his dad set to work. The pair often talked as they worked. Sometimes Lawrence's dad trained him, helping him learn and advance in his electrician apprenticeship. On routine jobs like this, the conversation drifted towards other things. The older labrador took great interest in his son. He often asked personal questions, like how his friends are doing, did he have a girlfriend yet, and what else was going in his life. Lawrence figured his dad felt a special connection to him, since he was the old lab's only biological son. Sure, his dad had two daughters and a stepson. But those relationships weren't the same. Lawrence wondered if his dad saw a younger version of himself in the young lab.
Today, the topic of conversation quickly turned to the Russell family. The pair spoke in low voices, mindful not to be overheard by Mr. Russell if he woke up again.
“Have you talked to the Russell boys lately? Think any of them are upstairs in their rooms?" Lawrence's dad asked, glancing up from his work.
“Not much. And I doubt it. I didn't see any cars in the garage or driveway," said Lawrence. “I heard that Julian left for college yesterday with Hartley and that new neighbor kid. Oh, I also heard that Gabriel is getting bullied by that pit bull kid across the street."
“That kid's been rotten since he was a tyke. Sorry to say it, but it's true. How about Dante?"
“Dante? I don't hear much about him. I think he still lives here. Dunno where he would be today. Last I heard he works at the coffee shop."
Lawrence's dad nodded. Silence hung between them.
“It's not easy, that's for sure. What they've gone through," said Lawrence's dad. He sighed deeply and stared at his son. “It was hard enough when I split from your mom. I can't imagine what it would be like to lose her entirely."
The younger lab shook his head in agreement. He couldn't imagine it either. As far as he knew, Mr. Russell didn't have anyone besides his sons. Not friends or family. They were his whole world. Julian had left for college, and Gabriel and Dante were gone most of the time due to school and work.
As the pair worked, their conversation shifted to lighter topics. It wasn't long before they had the lights fixed. Like Lawrence's dad had predicted, it was a loose connection that had caused the flickering. The older lab stood back and watched his son complete the finals tests to be sure the connection was now secure. He sighed in approval.
Right as Lawrence finished, a lively tune sounded from his dad's pocket.
“Howdy, Daniel speaking," Lawrence's dad answered the phone. All business. “Mhm. Yup. Yup. Got it. Sure. I'll be over in a jiffy." He ended the call and stuffed his phone back into his pocket. “Taylor's having problems with his power again," the older dog said, rolling his eyes. “I'll let you off the hook with this one. I bet he tripped the breaker again with all that aquarium shit he's got in his office. Can you finish up here and have Mark pay you on your way out?"
“For sure, Dad. See you at home?" Lawrence asked.
“See ya at home kiddo. Shouldn't take more than a couple hours if I'm lucky. Call me if you need anything." Lawrence's dad clapped Lawrence on the back and was out the door with his small toolbox, leaving Lawrence to pack the rest of the tools up.
The young lab double-checked, and then triple checked the lights. Then a few adjacent lights for good measure. He pulled out his dad's tablet and prepared the payment system in case Mr. Russell wanted to pay with a card.
Lawrence reentered the living room to find Mr. Russell in the same state as before, except now with a couple extra empty cans on the floor nearby. Mr. Russell lay stretched out on the couch, his t-shirt thrown to the floor. At least he kept his boxers on, but they did little to conceal what was underneath as the doberman's length had grown along his leg. Flashing lights from an old black and white sitcom illuminated the room. The seemingly nonstop laugh track covered the old doberman's soft snoring.
“Mr.-- uh.. Mr. Russell?" Lawrence said softly, shaking the doberman's shoulder gently. The old dog grunted, but didn't budge. Lawrence tried again, a little more forceful, to no response. He tried once more in vain.
“Damn it," Lawrence muttered. “Mr. Russell, we fixed the lights!" He called out.
It was hard to ignore the somewhat yeasty smell permeating the room from the empty cans on the floor. Lawrence pushed some out of the way with his foot. It was sad, the state Mr. Russell lived in. Lawrence figured it must be lonely, even with his sons. The lab doubted the old dog had gotten any sort of action in the years since his wife had passed.
Mr. Russell shifted his body, snorting like he had woken up. He turned away from the tv onto his back and hung a leg off the couch. Then the snoring continued, and the old dog was back to his slumber. Lawrence let his eyes drift down. Mr. Russell's boxers tugged up to expose his semi erect member. Like all canine penises, it was knotted at the base and had a tapered tip. The partially erect shaft was about the same size as Lawrence' fully hard penis. He imagined it's full length must be at least an inch or two longer. The labrador glanced at the doberman's face. He was still passed out. Lawrence set his toolbox and tablet down on the carpet. Wordlessly, he leaned forward to get a closer look. Dobie musk intertwined with the smell of beer. The old dog's musk smelled just as virile as a young man's. His pheromones worked as an aphrodisiac to Lawrence, who found himself kneeling down and huffing the scent in deep breaths.
Lawrence placed a hand on Mr. Russell's thigh, half expecting him to wake up and demand to know what exactly the young man thought he was doing. He inched his hand closer until the tips of his fingers met with the soft skin of the doberman's cock head. Mr. Russell's pink length reacted quickly, unlike it's owner. It protruded further out from it's protective sheath. Lawrence brushed the top of the length with a light touch. He gently tugged Mr. Russell's boxers all the way to the side, revealing balls that stuck to the dog's thigh with sweat. Lawrence grinned at the sight of the somewhat feminine flowery pattern on the boxers that covered a very unfeminine doberman cock and full balls that might as well belong to a breeder bull.
By now, logic had left the young lab's mind. Instinct took over completely. The old dog was still a stud, and he'd gone far too long without a bitch. Lawrence closed his eyes, guided the tip of Mr. Russell's veiny cock towards his mouth, and sealed his lips around the shaft, sucking the first few inches into the warmth of his maw. Sweaty, hot, and aged like a fine wine. He slipped the older dog's fat shaft further into his muzzle, experimentally bobbing his head a couple times. Lawrence couldn't help but be disappointed that Mr. Russell stayed asleep, and couldn't feel this pleasure on a conscious level. He hoped Mr. Russell was having pleasant dreams at least.
The labrador spiraled his tongue each way, coating the entirety in saliva from urethra to knot, which he licked with glee. Lawrence sucked harder. He doubted even Mr. Russell's wife knew how to treat a stud this well. He rested his hands on the couch, using the extra leverage to keep his neck from getting tired. The lab's lips bumped into the older male's knot. He stopped for a moment to relish the taste. He kissed the knot, knowing Mr. Russell would never remember the affection the young male gave him. It somehow made it all the easier to give. Lawrence made out with his neighbor's swollen knot like he would a lover. The taste was divinely salty, and just a little bit sweet. It tasted like pure man.
With some difficulty, Lawrence pulled his lips off the doberman. He wrapped his fingers around the base, pushing the dark furry sheath further behind the knot. Lawrence looked for a reaction from Mr. Russell. Anything to tell him if the old dog would wake up. Or maybe if he was enjoying the oral treatment. Still nothing. Lawrence squeezed the meat gently. It rewarded him with a strong pulse that sent a glob of precum down his throat. The dobie's fat balls tensed and relaxed repeatedly. He massaged the shaft a little more, inhaling not only the dobie's crotch sweat, but the essence of masculinity and arousal. He rubbed the canine penis, watching in captivation as it swelled to it's full nine inch potential in his hand. Inch after inch of solid dobie meat slid against Lawrence's hand, wet by spit and precum. The bulbous knot at the bottom must've been the size of a fist. Drops of precum streamed out and trailed over the young lab's fingers where it joined a growing puddle of pungent sweat and saliva between Mr. Russell's thighs. Hopefully the doberman would believe he just had an intense wet dream when he awoke.
Lawrence glanced around the room. He snuck to the kitchen and dining room to make sure they were still empty. It was still just him and Mr. Russell in the house. The living room wasn't visible from the front door, plus there was a screen door. The only window in the living room led to the empty backyard. If anyone pulled into the driveway, it would take at least a minute for them to reach the living room. Lawrence could work with that.
The lab pulled off his work pants and laid them straight on the armrest of a reclining chair for quick access. He stripped his underwear off and hid it in the toolbox. No need to put those back on. Lastly, he took off his button-up, leaving a white wife beater on. The young labrador breathed deep, measured breaths, quelling his anxiety. He reminded himself of several things. Mr. Russell was asleep, and there was no way he'd wake up until evening at best. All his kids were busy, so there was no risk of being caught by anyone else. Most importantly, the doberman needed some relief, even if he couldn't be awake to experience it.
Lawrence crouched over the doberman, awkwardly balancing his weight on the back of the couch and the tips of his toes. He spit onto his fingers and rubbed it around his bare pucker, which was woefully tight with the lack of preparation. He'd ridden one of his dildos last night. That would have to do. He squatted, feeling heat rise from the old dog's cock to his cheeks. The glans stroked up his perineum and grazed his tailhole. The lab reached back, finding the maleness rock hard and dripping like a faucet. Lawrence pressed back against the tip, willingly letting it enter his body. Warmth filled him in a smooth stroke. Lawrence cared only for Mr. Russell's pleasure at this moment. He wanted to give the old dog the release that only the dobie's wife had been able to provide.
Raw male musk filled Lawrence's lungs, and his hole. It was primal and animalistic, being marked by the old dog in this way. His body was asleep, but his body reacted like any man's would, sending the scent of horny canine pheromones into the air. Deep down, he needed this. Lawrence knew it too. He hoped he'd smell like the doberman for days to come.
The younger male clenched his teeth, struggling to hold himself in his upright position, balanced precariously on the tip. Touching himself was a no-go, as he fought the muscles already starting to burn in his limbs. Lawrence gained control over his trembling paws and forced his body to comply. Mr. Russell's swollen length slid deeper into his rear. Any worry Lawrence had about a lack of lube disappeared. His own thick saliva lubed his entrance plenty, and the older male's copious precum added further slickness to the penetration. Lawrence held his moans in, knowing the wet plaps of the doberman's cock sliding in and out were already noisy enough.
The lab lifted his tail until it hurt. The thick cock stroked every inch of his insides, warping his guts to it's shape. He needed the old dog's cock in a way he'd never needed anyone before. He wanted the old dog's cock to leave it's mark in him. Before today, Lawrence had never looked twice at the old doberman, never even considering any sort of attraction. Maybe it was his mood, or maybe it was the musk. Lawrence had no idea why he was suddenly so into his middle-aged neighbor. He just knew he needed the old dog to seed him.
A frothy combination of saliva and precum soaked the lab's ass cheeks and dobie's cock. Lawrence set a little more weight on Mr. Russell with each bounce. The dobie's pointed tip jabbed into the lab's insides and kissed his prostate. It's slimy tip added more lubrication inside the younger male's gut. The lab's tight ring kept it safely inside. He slowed his pace, feeling his orgasm start to build. Lawrence teased the edges of his own tender hole, dipping the dobie's fat tip in and out. He felt that emptiness within, and filled it just as quick. A whimper escaped Lawrence, like he was a bitch in heat.
That big canine cock flexed deep in Lawrence's ass. The veins that circled it's length rubbed it's musk against his insides. Long, grinding thrusts forced it far into his guts, where it left trails of precum every spot it touched. He felt unbearably full, and stretched to his limit. But still, incomplete. He rocked his hips back and forth, trying to hit the perfect spot. He couldn't find it, knowing deep down that only a complete mating would fulfill him. The lab groaned. He hadn't planned to go this far, hadn't planned to take the knot. It was too risky. If someone came in while he was tied, there would be no way he'd be able to cover up what was happening. Besides that, it might be too stimulating for the old doberman. He might wake up.
These thoughts faded with a particularly deep thrust that allowed the older male's knot partial entrance past the younger male's ring. With it, he felt the force of something even more powerful. The doberman's cock head slipped into, and then out of his second hole, deep in his guts. His most intimate, his most private area that only one dildo had gone before. Once. Lawrence disregarded his fears. He built up a dedicated rhythm, ramming the thickness repeatedly into his gripping depths. Minutes passed while the lab lost himself in a haze of musk and sensation. Wet squelching overtook the sounds of the television with each impact of ass to knot as the doberman's fat meat made sloppy work of Lawrence's tunnel.
A few more vigorous thrusts, and the dripping wet knot buried itself into the lab's willing asshole, forcing a sharp grunt from the younger male's chest. A shot of pain rocked through the lab's body, but it washed over with pure pleasure. Lawrence's body froze in response as his guts were invaded as deeply as one could go. He pushed back, finding it more comfortable to let the knot rest against his prostate rather than tug on his worn out ring. The labrador was firmly locked to the older male. He could've sworn he felt the faintest thrust from beneath. Nothing could compare to the burning heat filling his ass. The younger male's cock shot out jets of sperm across Mr. Russell's leg and sofa. Lawrence barely noticed.
Beyond the knot, Mr. Russell's tip hadn't just breached the lab's second hole. Instead, it slammed straight through it and continued to stretch it to its limit. The doberman began to unload inside Lawrence's innermost area, and he slept right through it. His potent fluids went to work, heating Lawrence's belly and body, and making the young lab groan. He relaxed onto the cock lodged inside him, more than happy to accommodate the flood of fertile seed. He'd been bred as deeply as one could be. He ground his ass back, allowing the older dog's cock tip to soak in the pair's mating.
Lawrence sat like that for a couple minutes, letting the doberman's cock ooze inside him. Once he felt the bizarre pop of the tapered tip leave his second hole, and a pool of cum behind, he experimentally tugged on the knot inflated in his rectum. He squirmed. He tried to relax. He accidentally forced another load out of himself as he mashed Mr. Russell's shaft against his prostate. Lawrence tried an especially firm jerk, which finally worked. He grunted as the knot burst out with a wet pop. The doberman's knot pulsed once more, as if giving a last ditch effort to pump more seed into it's mate.
Lawrence held himself over Mr. Russell, gasping for air. Finally, the rest of the dobie's cock retreated from him, leaving his ass leaking saliva. He whimpered and squeezed himself shut. He shivered at the realization that very little cum had spilled out. It was trapped inside his guts, left to absorb into him. If he had a cervix, he'd be very pregnant.
Lawrence waddled awkwardly to his pants. He reclothed himself slowly, minding his sore legs. Mr. Russell's snoring continued like nothing had happened. The lab couldn't tell if he imagined that the old dog had a slightly more content look on his face.
Suddenly, floorboards creaked on the floor above, forcing a second wind of adrenaline through Lawrence's body.
“Oh fuck," he muttered. He tidied himself up. The house was empty, wasn't it? Everyone should have been at school or work. He scanned the room for air freshener, a candle, or anything to mask the scent of him and the doberman's breeding. No such luck. The steps above moved to the staircase. Lawrence could only think to tuck the dobie's still softening shaft back inside the boxers. Thankfully, the plentiful wet spots weren't readily visible in the tv's lighting.
Dante, Mr. Russell's eldest son appeared at the bottom of the stairs. His normally sleek black fur was messy and disheveled. He wore only loose floor length pajama bottoms. The doberman squinted at Lawrence, letting his eyes adjust. Dante looked like a much younger version of his dad. He was strong and naturally muscular. He had a small goatee and a gold nose ring. Lawrence froze. He'd known Dante since he was a kid. Dante had babysat half the kids in the neighborhood. The lab had no idea how the younger dobie would react if he found out the lab had just been fucked by his dad.
“Lawrence? What's up?" Dante asked, his voice huskier than usual.
“Oh hey, uh.. I didn't think you were home. My dad and I came over to fix the lights. I'm supposed to get payment, but-" Lawrence stammered. “I tried shaking him a bit."
Dante sighed. “He's drunk, I gotcha. I would've been awake earlier, but I've got a head cold." The doberman turned to head back up the stairs. “Lemme grab my wallet, I'll take care of ya."
“Np!" Lawrence said, a little too loud. “No, it's alright. Don't worry about it, this one is on us." Lawrence said quickly. His dad usually only charged fifty or so for small jobs like this. Plus the friends and family discount he added to anyone he knew. Lawrence made a mental note to pay the bill himself as soon as he got home. Now that the sex hormones were leaving his body, he felt guilty riding Mr. Russell's cock and taking his money too. He remembered the fullness he'd experienced only moments ago.
Dante rummaged through his pajama pockets and pulled out a crumpled twenty. “You sure? Not even a tip? I remember when you were younger, you'd beg me for money so you could get Pokemon cards." Dante chuckled.
Lawrence's face flushed in embarrassment. “Nah, it's good, man." the labrador waved him away.
“Well, if you insist. Thanks for fixing the light. I hope my dad wasn't annoying at all. He gets weird when he drinks."
“Trust me, he was fine," Lawrence said. Dante stared at him for a moment. “Listen, I gotta get going. Anytime you need, give us a call."
The pair hugged briefly before Lawrence left. He thanked God for Dante's stuffy nose. He reeked of sex. Lawrence walked back across the street to his house, carrying his toolbox with his undies tucked in the bottom. The fall air was cool, and he felt a chillness on his wet ass. He shivered, knowing he wouldn't sit right for days. He hoped Mr. Russell would have another electrical problem soon.