The Bet
#1 of Daryl's Story: Reluctance to Acceptance.
This is a story about a Doberman named Daryl, his relationship with the word "Overcompensating", and Jesse, a collie who recognises Daryl's attitude for what it really is.
This commission was written for pokemonmanic3595. It contains M/M sex between consenting (though reluctant! :o) adults! :3
The Bet
"Hey baby."
Leaning on the bar, grinning toothily and licking his lips, Daryl knew he was the hottest guy in the bar. It was kind of pathetic really. All these other men here trying to pick up chicks, and not one of them deserving of the most pathetic, needy bitch in the joint. Not when you compared them to him.
Daryl growled tenderly as his latest conquest realised that he was deeming her worthy of his attention. She turned her gaze towards him, eyebrow cocked, unsure and slightly wary. The doberman couldn't blame her. There were a lot of creeps around in places like this. And some, upon seeing a woman sitting and drinking alone at the bar, would seek to take advantage of that. Luckily, he was here. He was here, and so very soon this lady wouldn't need to worry about being hit on by some loser. She'd be too busy choking on Daryl's thick cock, and screaming as he flooded her insides with hot ribbons of cum.
"Can I buy you a drink, or would you rather slip off somewhere quieter? My place? Yours? I'm sure there's something in either one that would satisfy our thirst. A bed. A couch."
The mouse squirmed visibly. For a moment, Daryl was certain she was cumming in her panties with excitement. Then her face twisted into an expression of pitying disgust, she snorted with laughter, and slipped off her bar stool. Within seconds, she was gone. Vanished into the loud and energetic Friday night crowd.
A snarl of frustration escaped the doberman's muzzle, and he brought down a clenched fist firmly against the bar-top.
"Fucking sleazeballs, ruining it for everyone."
He couldn't believe how often this was happening to him lately. He'd approach a woman who would be lucky to spend a night with a guy like him; some as low as five or six out of ten, and they'd act like they were horrified or insulted. And why? Not because of his directness, surely. Not because he was willing to say what both he and the lady in question were no doubt thinking as they set eyes upon one another. But rather, because the women he approached had no doubt already been propositioned countless times that evening. Accosted and bothered by so many lecherous nerds and drunken, virgin frat boys that they were too worn out and frustrated to realise that what was standing before them now was the real deal. Grade A, prime cut man.
As quickly as his anger had swelled, it passed out of Daryl's mind once more. With a chuckle, the doberman turned away from the bar and glanced around in search of his next target. He straightened the collar of his crisply ironed shirt, brushed down the front of his black denim trousers, and growled hungrily as he set eyes upon her.
She was the one. Oh yes. She was the one alright. Daryl had been looking at her for less than five seconds, but already he could feel his sheath filling out. His crotch beginning to tighten the material at the front of his trousers.
A smoking hot whippet. Lithe and tender to the eye. Her fur dyed a pale but vivid lilac colour, and her lighter, silvery hair tied up in a ponytail. She was dressed, if you could call it that, in a silky crop top with spaghetti straps, and a loose, flowing blue skirt. Both items were practically hanging off her as she flung herself about the dance floor, so much so that for moments Daryl was certain that this angelic figure was showing off the nipples of her small but perfectly perky breasts to the entire bar. No. Not to the entire bar. To him. Tempting him. Teasing him. Just begging for him to go over there, sweep her off her feet, and bury his face between her legs.
Before Daryl could take a single step away from the bar however, and thankfully long before he could utter his pre-prepared opener... 'Let me show you the meaning of Pussy Hound', a hand fell upon his shoulder. A strong, firm, decidedly male hand.
Turning his head, scowling darkly, Daryl found himself staring into the annoying bright, chipper eyes of a beaming border collie. A moment later the hand upon his shoulder had wrapped itself around his back, pulling the doberman into a friendly embrace which he in no way reciprocated.
"Lots of ladies out here tonight, huh?"
Still smiling from ear to ear, the border collie's voice didn't have a shred of competitiveness about it. He wasn't here for the same reason as Daryl. He didn't seem at all concerned with the abundance of pussy flowing all around them. At least, not in the same way as the doberman. Daryl frowned, shrugging off the other male's touch carelessly.
"Yeah. Lots. So why don't you go hang out with some of them. Tell them how they should keep an eye out for a hot stud like me... but that you'll keep them company until I choose them."
Warmly and without a hint of having recognised Daryl's malice, the collie laughed. He slapped Daryl jovially upon the back, and shamelessly returned his arm to its former position around the doberman's shoulders.
"Oh man, you're really hard up, aren't you. I've been watching. You've struck out... what, fifteen times in the last hour? That's an impressive hit rate. But hey, you haven't had any drinks thrown in your face. That counts for something I guess, given the looks some of those ladies gave you before they high tailed it elsewhere."
Still the collie was smiling, but there was a certain twinkling in his eye. A firmness, a sense of disapproval lingering just beneath the surface. He thought he knew what Daryl was up to. He thought that by stepping in, he was being some sort of hero. A white night for all the mindless sluts who just couldn't help themselves around such a studly dobie.
Daryl rolled his eyes. He'd been wrong. It wasn't the weak-ass competition which was driving his women away. It was this do-gooding asshole attempting to convince all the ladies that they didn't need some one night stand to make them feel good. That they were all worthwhile, regardless of whether they had a partner to go home with at the end of the night. That they should have self respect for themselves and their bodies.
What an idiot.
For the second time the doberman shrugged, or rather, shoved, the collie's arm away. He took a step away from the bar, and rounded upon the other dog with a threatening snarl.
"Look, I don't know what the hell makes you think you have the right to come fool around on my patch, but..."
Before Daryl could finish, the border collie simply began to speak over him. He did so with such carefree ease it was as if he genuinely hadn't noticed that Daryl was in the middle of chewing him out. Or perhaps as if he didn't care.
"Hey, are you a betting man... uh... sorry, what was your name again?"
Daryl cocked an eyebrow. He couldn't tell if this moron was just clinically stupid, or if he was playing some sort of game with his disarming charm offensive. Either way, his reaction was the same. Often, the best way to get rid of someone who had a problem with what he was doing was just to humour them. To listen to whatever self righteous spiel about respect for women and self-confidence being important in preventing reliance on others for gratification and allaying insecurity. Then, when they had done their part and fucked off, Daryl could get back to the business at hand.
Impatient and entirely unconcerned with what the collie was saying to him, Daryl answered.
"Daryl."
The other dog grinned warmly, extending his free hand for Daryl to shake.
"Pleased to meet you, Daryl. I'm Jesse."
Daryl did not shake Jesse's hand, but to his annoyance the collie reached out, grabbed his free hand where it was resting at his side, and shook it forcefully anyway.
"And I have a proposition for you. A simple bet. A drinking game, of a sort."
At this, Daryl cocked an eyebrow. He might not have had time for the collie's incessant moralistic ramblings, but if there was free alcohol to be scored, even if it was from a guy, he wasn't going to turn it down. After all, what better than a little social lubricant to make the women more comfortable around him.
"Alright, I'm listening. What are the stakes?"
Jesse grinned.
"Simple. If you win, I will go over there to my group of friends..."
With a beaming smile, the collie rose up on his tip-toes and waved across the bar's dancefloor to one of the booths at the far side of the room. Within it, Daryl could see at least eight women, one of whom was the mouse he had only recently chatted up. Eight rather attractive, obviously drunk women. They squealed with laughter and glee as the collie gestured to them, and even flashed a few teasing winks and playful wiggles of the eyebrows towards Daryl.
"...and tell them that you really are a nice guy after all. That you're just super eager to give a lady a good time, and that any one of them would be lucky to spend the night with you if they fancy a bit of fun."
Daryl licked his lips, but held firm as he glared at the collie.
"And if you win?"
Jesse's eyes sparkled once more.
"If I win, I don't go back to hang out with my friends. I stay with you all night, and we do whatever I want. You do whatever I say. Basically, until tomorrow morning, you're my bitch. And more than that? I'm gonna make you love it."
The doberman let loose an aggressive burst of barking laughter. He tossed his head, shook it, and grinned back at the border collie.
"That's all I risk? Really? And all I have to do to win this bet is beat you in a drinking game?"
With that same winning grin, Jesse nodded again.
"Yep. But... I really hope you realise how seriously I take my betting. If you win, I'm gonna get you the lay of a lifetime from one of my closest friends... even if that costs me my reputation as a good judge of character. And if by some miracle I win, I expect you to live up to your end with equal honour. You have to promise you're willing to do what I tell you."
Glancing from the table full of women across the bar, to the rows upon rows of liquors which Jesse had to choose from for his bet, back to the collie himself, Daryl chuckled. This time it was his hand that rose first, and grasped hold of the collie's own free paw. He shook it fiercely, growling as he did so.
"Deal. Now, let's get this over with. One of us has some serious fucking to do."
Immediately, Jesse nodded. He turned smoothly towards the bar itself, and in one swift, seemingly well practiced motion raised his hand from his side to hail one of the bartenders. In it, already neatly unfolded and ready for presentation, the doberman could see what was nothing less than two one hundred dollar bills.
A bartender approached rather swiftly after spotting the raised notes, and beamed as he recognised the dog holding onto it. The member of staff, a female fox wearing a smart waistcoat, looked from Jesse to Daryl, then smirked knowingly.
"What can I get you, Sir?"
The collie seemed to think for a moment, then responded with a wink.
"A bottle of the house vodka please. No glasses."
The alcohol was soon set to rest between Jesse and Daryl, and the collie handed over the hundred dollar bills.
"Just give me ten dollars change, please. Keep the rest."
The bartender's cheeks flushed, and she beamed warmly.
"T-thank you Sir."
She cashed the value of the bottle, counting out Jesse's change and slipping the rest into the tip jar which sat beside her register. With that, the vixen went about her business, moving onto the next customer with only a final smile of gratitude towards the generous collie.
Daryl and Jesse stared at one another, occasionally glancing down at the bottle between them. Before long, the doberman grew tired of staring at the collie's beaming face and gestured urgently.
"So... can we get this over with?"
Shrugging with a total lack of urgency, the border collie nodded.
"Sure. So, here's the game. We both have to try and take a drink of vodka from the bottle, but we aren't allowed to break the seal of the bottle or break the glass."
Daryl thought about this for a moment, then looked up at Jesse, frowning darkly.
"Wait... what?"
The collie smirked, shrugging yet again.
"I know it's tough, but you can do it. Look, I'll even give you... let's say, five minutes head start. If you can do it before me, you win."
Once more Daryl saw that twinkling in the collie's eyes, and in that moment he realised that he was being played. This wasn't a drinking game. It was a con. He rose from his seat.
"This is stupid. It's impossible, and I'm not doing it."
Jesse chuckled softly.
"Wow... less than ten seconds. You really are a pussy, aren't you. No wonder you couldn't get a single woman to listen to you for more than a few moments without the element of surprise."
His face never shifted from his calm, friendly demeanour as he spoke, but there was venom behind his words. Anger, and disgust for how he had clearly witnessed Daryl acting that evening.
"Besides, it's not impossible. You wait. If you're man enough, that is. Wait, and when the time's up and you can't figure it out, I'll show you. If it is impossible... I'll forfeit the bet and declare you the winner. So, if you genuinely believe it can't be done? You've already won, and there's no reason not to stick around."
Daryl's already furrowed brow grew ever more creased. He was still convinced that he was being played, but couldn't figure out how. He stared at the bottle, wracking his brains for a way, any way, that he could get even a drop of vodka out of the bottle without opening it's lid or damaging the glass. He stared. And stared. And stared.
Glancing down at his phone, Daryl saw that two minutes had passed by.
Three.
Then four.
He growled and looked back up at Jesse, who was casually casting his eyes over the bar with an almost fatherly expression upon his face.
"Goddammit..."
As the fifth minute passed by, Daryl snarled in frustration and glared at the collie.
"Go on. Tell me. Tell me it's impossible and you're just wasting my time here."
Jesse didn't say anything of the sort. Indeed, he simply turned back towards the bar and waved over the same bartender that had served him previously.
"Excuse me, could I get a single shot of the house vodka, please?"
He handed over his single remaining ten dollar bill, and before long had the vodka in his hand. With a knowing smirk, he reached over and grasped the neck of the unopened vodka bottle in his free hand. Turning it one hundred and eighty degrees, Jesse revealed the welled bottom of the glass bottle. His eyes twinkled with mischief as he poured the single vodka shot into the base of the bottle, brought it to his lips, and poured the contents down his throat.
Placing the bottle, unbroken and unopened, back upon the bar, the collie turned to Daryl with a grin.
"So... looks like I win."
Daryl bared his teeth, growling viciously.
"That was not fair."
Jesse smirked.
"Actually it was perfectly fair. You could have done exactly what I did at any moment, and if you had I would have lived up to my end of the bargain. But that didn't happen, and so now you have to do exactly as I say."
The doberman snorted gruffly.
"Yeah? And let me guess, you want me to fuck off and leave your friends, leave all the women in this bar alone, right?"
Chuckling warmly, Jesse shrugged.
"I won't lie, the thought had crossed my mind. You are a womanising worm, after all. A creep of the highest order."
His smile broadened, and he picked up from where he'd left off before Daryl could respond to his insults.
"But... personality aside, you're actually pretty cute. So instead of simply kicking you out on your ass, I thought I might invite you back to my apartment. We're gonna go to my place. We're gonna get out of all these clothes. And tonight, Daryl, I am going to fuck your brains out."
***************
Daryl's mind reeled as he stepped through Jesse's front door; the apartment which the collie had insisted they visit literally upstairs from the bar at which they had been seated just minutes ago. He couldn't believe this was happening. Couldn't believe what the collie was expecting of him. Of course, the doberman had no intention whatsoever of being fucked by this man. Nothing in all the world could possibly have convinced him to let that happen. But, as ruthless and cunning as he could be when on the prowl for women, Daryl did not like to lose face. He didn't like to be seen to welch on a bet. And thus, rather than attempt to simply slip away and have Jesse tell all his female friends that he was some sort of deal-breaking coward, he had come this far. He had done as Jesse said, just like the terms of their bet had promised. And now, at least, he could explain to the damned border collie still staring and grinning at him that he wasn't even remotely bisexual, thus couldn't possibly be expected to live up to the full extent of what Jesse apparently expected of him.
"L-look, man..."
Daryl turned on the spot as he heard the front door closing, but his voice trailed off in stunned horror as he saw the border collie kicking off his shoes, simultaneously already beginning to fumble with the belt of his crisp black trousers.
"Hey, uh... w-what are you doing?"
Jesse paused, his belt loose and his fingers lingering upon the buttonhole of his trousers. He cocked an eyebrow at Daryl.
"I'm taking my clothes off. Y'know. The thing people do before sex so they don't get cum on the inside of their underwear?"
The doberman whimpered. Fear and embarrassment flashed in his eyes.
"But... I... t-this... I... n-not gay. Please. I'm n-not..."
With a sigh, the border collie released his trousers and folded his arms. Standing between Daryl and the apartment door, he shook his head in concern.
"A womaniser. A creep. And a homophobe too. Are you really that afraid of seeing another guy naked? Of being naked with another man?"
That question only made Daryl whimper more loudly.
"I'm not. N-not taking off my clothes with you."
Jesse stared at the doberman. He stared deep into Daryl's eyes, at least until the other dog glanced away with a more frantic, frustrated whine of anguish.
"Yes you are. You are because you made a deal with me, and if you ever want to show your face in any bar in this city again... if you want any woman to do anything but laugh in your face when you approach them? Hell, if you want to be able to say a single word to a woman without thinking about what a spineless little bitch you know that you are deep down, you'll man up and do what you promised."
Daryl whimpered softly. His cheeks flushed as he tried to think of a way, any way, out of this that wouldn't leave him in the exact situation which Jesse was predicting. Even as he did so though, he could feel his hands rising from his sides. Moving slowly but surely towards the uppermost button of his shirt. The doberman's eyes bulged as he saw Jesse mirroring his actions. The collie's hands did not return to his trousers, but to his own buttoned up shirt front. As Daryl felt the first button pop free, he saw Jesse do the same. He unfastened the second, and the border collie did so too. He brushed his fingers over the inside of his shirt, feeling his soft dark fur and the skin beneath it. His heart was beating fast. Pounding with fear. With adrenaline.
With... excitement?
"N-not gay... p-please..."
The more buttons that came undone, the more Daryl found himself moaning and gasping under his breath those same pitiful words. He didn't know if he was speaking fact, or simply hoping. He was so confused. His body wasn't used to stripping naked with someone else in any situation other than sex. He was watching another body take its clothes off, and he knew the owner of that body was interested in him. He knew that Jesse desired him. And, in return, he felt himself responding in kind. The faster his heart beat, the more Daryl could feel himself throbbing. Swelling. He could feel himself getting hard, and no matter how much he begged himself not to, that only seemed to make his rock hard cock strain all the more urgently within his jeans.
Before long, both men were bare chested. Daryl cried out in frustration as Jesse stepped close to him, bringing his face close enough to the doberman's body to inhale and blow a cool breath of air out across the other male's neck. Firm, manly fingers caressed his bare fur. They wrapped around his flanks, and Daryl watched as a pair of soft, masculine lips upon a grinning muzzle edged ever closer to a tender smooch with his own.
"N-no..."
Pulling back, Daryl shook his head. He saw the look on Jesse's face. Not anger. Not frustration. Just disappointment. Sorrow, almost, at knowing that after all he'd said at the bar, the doberman really was just a wussy wimp barely worthy of the title man.
Again, the doberman whimpered loudly.
"Not yet, I mean. I... I want you to see me first. All of me."
Kicking off his shoes as Jesse had done long before, Daryl's trembling fingers fell to the belt of his dark jeans. He groaned as his fingertips made contact with the fabric, pushed taut against the leather of his belt by the rigidity of his member.
"F-fuck..."
With a breathless gasp, he forced himself to continue. His body was aching to be touched, and the more he found himself demanding physical contact, the less terrifying it seemed for that contact to come from any source other than him. No sooner had that realisation crossed his mind of course, Daryl practically yelped in horror and began to feverishly, if wordlessly, shake his head once more in abject denial of what he'd just considered.
"Oh god. Oh n-no..."
His moans of overly dramatic anguish reached fever pitch as he found his trousers falling down around his ankles, watching wide eyed as Jesse did the same in perfect time. Now the two dogs stood only in their underwear; a pair of boxer briefs for the doberman, boxer shorts for the collie. Both men's erections were clearly visible straining through the fabric of their remaining clothing, and to Daryl's shame, there was a definite dark spot on the pale blue fabric of his underwear; the obvious remnants of droplets of pre-cum which had already started to ooze forth.
Before Daryl could take any further action, he found himself watching as Jesse's boxers came tumbling down and were swiftly pushed aside by one of the border collie's bare footpaws. The doberman stared at Jesse's naked body. At his rigid cock, deep red and with an already visible swelling at its base. He felt his body shudder violently as the other man's cock twitched with desire, and yet let slip a frantic moan of fear as the nude collie took a step towards him.
"Want me to help you out of those, see what you've got waiting for me under there?"
Not wishing for Jesse to touch him, unsure whether it was because the idea turned his stomach, or because it didn't, Daryl did the only thing he could think of to keep the collie from pulling down his underwear. He did so himself. He yelped as the last remnants of his clothing fell to the floor, and not a moment later felt the border collie begin to touch him anyway. One of Jesse's hands slipped into his own, and the other came to rest upon the bare fur of his hip. Stepping close together once again, so close that their erections were practically brushing one another as they twitched hungrily in the open air, Jesse grinned at his naked partner.
"There now, doesn't that feel much better. C'mon, let's get settled. There's a long night ahead of us... but I wanna get started right away."
Helplessly, Daryl found himself being led through the hallway and into Jesse's living room. It was oddly similar to the bar downstairs in its decoration, only more residential and lived-in. There was a lot of chrome, a lot of deep red, and upon one wall a selection of liquor which could have put many of the city's lesser stocked bars to shame. Unfortunately for Daryl, he wasn't able to enjoy the sight of that liquor for long though. Indeed after just a few seconds of taking his mind off his current situation by trying to identify each and every one of the beautiful bottles of booze, the doberman's gaze was drawn back to the matter at hand as he felt Jesse's hands release him, and heard the collie's voice speak up once more.
"So, how about we get things started nice and slow. Get on your knees, and spend a little time getting to know my cock. After all, by the end of tonight you guys will be intimately acquainted."
Daryl stared at the collie, now seated upon the lush, deep red fabric couch before him. He watched as Jesse leaned back, spreading his legs and looking expectantly up at the doberman. Already one of the black and white furred dog's hands was resting upon the base of his shaft, squeezing gently, and Jesse was squirming happily as a few droplets of pre-cum began to drool and trickle down the twitching length of his manhood.
"I... I can't."
Daryl took a step backwards. Then another, and another.
Before he even realised what he was doing, he was bolting. Back out of the living room and towards the front door of the collie's apartment. It was only when he placed a hand upon the door handle, hearing Jesse's voice call out after him not with anger, but with mirth, that he froze.
"Uh, Daryl? Before you decide to run and wuss out of the bet... you might wanna take a look at yourself."
Instinctively, the doberman did so. He looked down, seeing his bare chest. Bare legs. Bare feet. And of course his bare crotch, exposing his own deep red, rather thick canine erection. His cheeks flushed. His head span with embarrassment, confusion, and that same excitement that was maintaining his hard-on throughout this supposedly shameful experience.
"W-why..."
He whispered to himself nervously, staring at his dripping, twitching cock.
"Why am I hard?"
As if in answer, Daryl found himself letting go of the door handle. He felt his feet turning, and beginning to walk him back towards the living room. Towards Jesse's naked body, and the border collie's own rock hard erection.
Soon enough, he came to a standstill before the collie once more. Squirming on the spot, blushing and panting beneath Jesse's gaze, Daryl whimpered as the other dog addressed him with a tender, curious tone.
"Can I ask... if it's not too personal, Daryl. How long was it since you were last with a woman? In person, I mean. Actual, penetrative, heterosexual sex."
The doberman's face glowed scarlet. Under his breath, he growled something utterly inaudible.
Jesse grinned.
"Sorry, what was that?"
Again, Daryl repeated himself. The collie fought not to laugh.
"Nine months, huh? That's... that's quite a dry spell for a young stud like you. I mean, you must be what... twenty two, twenty three?"
Daryl nodded, a bashful whine slipping through his lips as Jesse continued to address him.
"Well, maybe this is the world's way of telling you it's time for a change. Time to open yourself up to new possibilities and opportunities. Maybe time to let yourself experience something you've been hiding from all your life."
A more genuinely, friendly smile crossed Jesse's face as he leaned back and spread his legs wider still.
"Wouldn't it be nice just to be with someone after all those months? To not have to fight your way through all that expectation, and just be wanted for what you have to offer right here and now? All you need to do, Daryl, is put those lips of yours to work. Have a taste. Suck on my cock a little. Make me feel good. Then, after we've had our night... after I've fucked you, we can see how you feel."
Daryl whined feverishly.
"How I... how I f-feel? But, I'm not. I c-can't be... n-not gay."
Grinning, Jesse shrugged yet again.
"Let's just take it step by step, shall we? No-one's saying you're gay. I'm just saying that if I fuck you, and you end up liking it... maybe you're not quite as straight as you thought. Maybe you're just not straight enough to stay a while longer, and make the end of this dry spell more than a one time quickie. But the only way to find out... the only way to know for sure, is to stay here and try. To do what you promised you would."
The collie licked his lips playfully.
"In other words? Get on your knees, and start sucking."
With a desperate groan, and a weak, futile shaking of his head, Daryl did so.
He fell to his knees, crawling forward and placing his trembling hands upon the collie's thighs. His eyes bulged as he watched Jesse's cock getting closer and closer to him, or rather, his head getting closer to the collie's cock. He felt his tongue lolling out. Hot, gasping pants of air washing out over the already twitching, hungrily waiting shaft of thick masculine flesh.
He closed his eyes, and helplessly begged one last time.
"I'm... I'm not. I can't be..."
His lips touched the tip of Jesse's cock. He waited to be overwhelmed with revulsion. To feel sick. Disgusted. Horrified at his own foolishness for going through with this.
Instead, he felt his cheeks redden with excitement. He felt his own cock pulsate and a thick string of pre-cum come lashing out, spraying across the front of Jesse's couch. His lips took more of the cock between them. His tongue swept out along the shaft's underside, and he felt his head inching further and further forward.
Daryl licked Jesse's cock. He tasted it. Teased it. He heard the collie growling in heated pleasure, and felt a trembling pair of hands come to rest upon his head, caressing the backs of his ears oh so tenderly.
"That's it. T-that's my good... good boy. Ahh..."
Jesse liked it. He liked what the doberman was doing to him. Daryl's cheeks flushed as he realised he was making the other man feel good. He felt his lips curling upward in a smile of pride and delight, and from deep within, heard a rumbling gurgle of his own unleashed excitement.
Then, as quickly as it had begun, it was over.
Daryl was whimpering again, his mouth feeling oddly empty as Jesse pushed him away and rose, albeit shakily, from the couch. The collie helped the doberman to his feet, and carefully took him by the hands once more. This time, Daryl did nothing to fight or show fear of the contact. Indeed, his only sounds were continued groans of desire as he stared down at Jesse's midsection. First at the collie's cock, then as Jesse turned and began to lead him through the apartment, at the male's eagerly wagging tail and the cute, firm ass beneath it.
Before Daryl knew it, he was in a bedroom. Sitting upon a wonderfully luxurious, thick set of sheets. First sitting, then lying. He groaned as Jesse guided him every step of the way, rolling him onto his belly and spreading his legs apart. Placing a few pillows beneath his arms and head, ensuring that he was comfortable. Soon, he felt Jesse climbing up onto the bed somewhere behind him. He felt the warmth and the weight of Jesse's body straddling the upper portion of his legs, and the warm, furred orbs of the collie's balls resting against the curve of his ass.
Daryl shuddered with delight.
"Please..."
His mind was all too ready to fill in the blank. To tell Jesse to stop. To please, please stop this. It was too much, too fast. He wasn't ready.
And yet, he didn't say that. He didn't believe it. Not in his heart.
"Please..."
Daryl whined giddily as he heard the pop of a plastic lid, and soon after felt something cool, slippery and thick being emptied out over the parted crack of his ass. Lube, being spread out across his body's most intimate region.
"Please... b-be gentle."
He tensed up as the body sitting astride him began to lean forward. His heart skipped a beat as he felt the thick, rigid heat of another man's erection against his ass. Rubbing itself back and forth, coating its throbbing length in the liberal dose of lube applied there. He felt warm breath on the back of his neck, and a moment later soft, playful kisses being planted upon his soft fur and flesh. He felt Jesse's weight distributing itself just like he would have, were he the one on top of some squirming, needy woman.
Except... even in that thought, Daryl couldn't actually bring himself to think about a woman. All he could think of, all he could fantasise about, was the situation in which he was now trapped.
He shook his head.
"I d-don't think I can..."
Jesse growled tenderly in his ear, and whispered reassuringly.
"I know you can. Just lie there. Lie there, and relax."
A moment later, Daryl's eyes bulged. He threw back his head, barely missing Jesse's jaw with the suddenness and force with which his neck snapped backward, and yelped in terror as he felt the other dog's lubricated tip pressing at the pucker of his ass.
"Gently! Oh fuck. Fuck, Jesse, please. B-be gentle with me."
He begged. He whimpered. He yelped and panted as the border collie's thick cock began to sink into him. It wasn't painful, not in the way that Daryl had imagined it would be. The lube certainly helped a great deal, but there was still some... it wasn't even discomfort, really. His ass just felt... stretched. Full. Unsettlingly, unexpectedly full.
"Oh n-no... it... it's... ohh god... g-gentle, please..."
Still he whimpered and begged as Jesse sank into him, but not once did he ask the collie to stop. Not once did he ask Jesse to go slower, or to pull out entirely. All he asked of the border collie was that he go gently, and thus Jesse did just that.
It took almost five minutes before the entirety of Jesse's cock, knot notwithstanding, was lodged in Daryl's rump. Five minutes which had comprised each and every one of the longest seconds of the doberman's life.
Only then did Jesse start to move. To wiggle; his cock flexing and straining, stimulating the interior of Daryl's back passage. The doberman's eyes widened once more, and a breathy moan escaped him as he felt... something. Something not uncomfortable; the discomfort of accepting the collie's size was fading fast. But rather, something pleasant. Pleasurable, even.
Jesse's hips drew back an inch or so, and pressed inward once more. Daryl yipped, shuddering as something inside him responded happily to the internal stimulation. His cock throbbed, oozing pre-cum down into the collie's soft sheets beneath it.
"Oh... oh w-what... what is that?"
Jesse delivered a few more gentle thrusts, chuckling at the surprise in the doberman's voice.
"What's what, cutie?"
Daryl's cheeks flushed.
"F-feels... good. Like you're touching something. R-rubbing it with your... y-your... ahh..."
The collie licked his lips, growling happily.
"Your prostate, you mean? Yeah. That would feel good. It's kinda why anal sex rocks."
Daryl groaned happily as Jesse drew back a little further, and pressed himself home again a little harder.
"Oohhh. Ohh god... b-but... it's not... not supposed to feel this good."
Jesse groaned in pleasure of his own as the doberman's tight ass clenched around him.
"It isn't? Why not?"
The doberman grunted happily, his breath escaping him in a frantic gasp as once more Jesse's cock pressed against his prostate and sent pleasuring surging through his body. Again he felt his cock oozing pre-cum into the collie's sheets, but this time he felt something else too. He felt the same warm wetness of pre-cum, only within himself. Pouring out in small but noticeable trickles into his ass.
"B-because... because I... I'm..."
Jesse grinned through his panting as the pace of his thrusts began to pick up. He could feel more and more of his cock slipping in and out of Daryl with each stroke of his hips, and now, with every thrust, the increasingly swollen bulb of his knot driving itself against the pucker of Daryl's ass. The pleasure, combined with the whimpering gasps of delight escaping his until recently unexplored lover, was exquisite.
"Because you're what, Daryl? Tell me..."
The doberman groaned loudly, happily, fighting to form the words to describe how he was feeling despite the overwhelming pleasure surging through him.
"I'm n-not... I... I'm..."
He shuddered, and fell limp for a moment. So limp, that for a split-second Jesse was genuinely worried about what had happened to him. Soon enough however his body began to writhe and shudder beneath the collie's touch once again, and in a softer, meek, almost relieved tone, he whimpered to Jesse.
"Forget it. I just... I... oh f-fuck. Please, Jesse. Faster."
It was the collie's turn to freeze for an instant, making sure he hadn't misheard as Daryl groaned happily at him once again.
"Faster. H-harder. Just fuck me. F-fuck me. Knot me. C-cum inside me. Please."
The collie did as he was instructed. He didn't just fuck Daryl harder and faster though, he truly put all his effort into making the doberman feel as good as possible. He kissed the back of the trembling male's neck. He nipped tenderly at his ears. He even slowed down as his knot began to press its way insistently inward, allowing Daryl a few extra moments to catch his breath before it was stolen away by the newly intensified sensations.
All the while, he could hear Daryl grunting. Gasping. Begging. Whispering breathlessly, and with stunned and overwhelmed joy as together the two dogs raced towards the satisfaction of orgasm.
"I n-never knew. Oh god... a-all this time, I never knew."
The harder, the deeper, the more intensely Jesse ploughed Daryl, the more gleefully strained his cries grew.
"Don't stop. Please, Jesse, don't stop. I need this. I... I need it. I need you."
Until finally, with a strangled yelp of his very own, the collie began to unload into the ass to which he was unshakably knotted. Hot ribbons of cum lashed out over Daryl's innards. Rope after rope of his slick seed coated the innermost depths of the doberman's rear, and all the while Daryl was whimpering, grunting, and rapturously groaning in delight.
"I-inside. Cum inside me. Oh y-yes. So... so warm. So right. Oh god, Jesse. I... I love it. T-thank you. Thank you s-so... so m-ma...ah...ahhh!"
By Jeeves