Weasel in Heat
A quick scenario (microfiction?) of a weasel stuck in traffic during his breeding season, pent up and imagining his boyfriend being there to fuck him.
Kinks: male/male, weasel, German shepherd dog, semi-public, embarrassed, solo, spontaneous ejaculation, heat season, pent up, anal, cumming in pants
Percy’s heat always came on unusually strong every year, even for a weasel. For a week or more there was nothing he could think about but sex, and he could jizz as many times as he wanted to, which was at least once every five minutes. This time it had hit him like a train while he was out shopping, and now he was sweating and panting, dripping drool onto the seat, while he inched his way through the evening traffic.
He gripped the steering wheel harder and harder until his knuckles turned visibly white even underneath his brown fur. The weasel’s ordinarily silky, short coat had turned messy and frazzled, oily with nervous sweat. If this traffic didn’t let up soon, he was thinking about parking right there on the highway, walking behind the bushes and rubbing one out. The car in front of him probably wouldn’t have moved an inch, he thought, by the time he got back.
He ran his claws through the thicker fur on his head, cracked his knuckles, and counted to ten over and over and over. The car in front of him moved an inch. He lurched forward by two or three. With a harsh sigh, he reminded himself that he wouldn’t get home faster by wrecking the sedan. He shared it with his boyfriend Rex, so it wasn’t really his to wreck, anyway.
The thought of Rex flashed across his mind with an awful intensity — he’d been trying to forget. If he could just forget his boyfriend’s glossy, chocolate brown fur, and the way it clung to his lean, athletic body …
Percy sighed. It was useless. The image of Rex was filling his mind now, the hunky German Shepherd beckoning to him in a brash display of naked beauty. The dog was always taking any chance to go shirtless and at home he would often go naked just to tease his boyfriend. The statuesque form of his body, built like a stallion in canine form, was perfectly complemented by the dark, smoky patterns of his fur. The thick ruff around his neck was patterned with a black V-shape that pointed down to the darker brown fur that ran between his pecs and abs, then sprouted into a bush above his plump sheath. Percy got hard just from looking at him, but he usually did more than just look, and the Shepherd was always happy to oblige.
If Rex was here now, Percy wouldn’t even have to think about rubbing one out. Rex would hush him quiet, and take out his massive canine cock and rub it between the weasel’s cheeks before he slipped it in and pounded him silly. The orgasms he’d rubbed out while getting pounded by Rex’s were the best he’d ever had. Sometimes he didn’t even have to touch himself. Especially not during heat.
If Rex was here … Rexy would dig his cold, wet nose under the thick fur on Percy’s neck in the way that always made the weasel shiver, and then stick his warm tongue out to lick the inside of the weasel’s ear. He’d nibble on that thin flap and then whisper something sweet into Percy’s ear with a low growl on the edge of his breath, just enough of a masculine, wolfish huskiness to raise Percy’s hackles and send another thrill up his back.
He’d move his big, clawed hands across the weasel’s lean belly and downward until they found Percy’s wrists and moved them away from the swollen cock that hung out from the weasel’s sheath, throbbing and dripping pre. Rex would pin him down like that, knowing that it drove Percy crazy to be unable to touch himself while the German Shepherd’s cock slammed into his fuck-button until that hot and full feeling welled up inside his crotch and overflowed into an electrifying orgasm that just wouldn’t stop coming until the carpet or the bed was soaked in musky weasel milk.
The car behind him honked. Percy took his foot off the brake to move forward another few yards to where the traffic had slowly migrated. Though he’d snapped out of his horny daydream, that warm feeling in his balls hadn’t gone away. He was rock hard and pitching a tent in his pants, and the feeling of the fabric pressing tightly down on the tip of his straining cock was pushing him over the edge.
“Oh — oh god.” He said out loud.
With only a second to think about it, he realized he had no time to unzip. He just fumbled around on the passenger’s seat to feel for the dirty workout shirt that Rex always left hanging on the headrest. This whole car smelled faintly of the musky dog, but the shirt smelled like Rex’s thick masculine odor, his rugged sweat and his big chest with the dark fur that covered it.
“Oh fuck!” Percy let go and started spurting pump after pump into the lap of his jeans. A dark spot spread across, feeling warm and sticky. The thick, musky smell filled the car. He pressed Rex’s shirt against his muzzle and took deep whiffs. He imagined the muscular dog hugging him from behind, whispering “good boy” into his ear. His whole length felt so good it was like he was going to burst or melt from the pleasure.
The car behind him honked again. It brought him out of his horny haze into the worst kind of post-nut clarity, like a cold bath.
“Oh fuck, *Rex.*” He whined. “I have *got* to get home!”