Snow, Exceptionally Bored (Illustrated)

Story by Speer8ofPandraa on SoFurry

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Snow, Exceptionally Bored. A story by Snow Whitespotten, about himself. How creative!

Off to the side, lounging under a tree and shaded from the midday lays a Mightyena. He came to the park looking for fun, and has yet to find a single scrap of it. So what else is he supposed to do, then, besides make his own fun..?


"Fuck... Could something interesting happen already? Please?" The dark type would mutter to himself for the umpteenth time, looking out at the various activities stretched across the park he currently occupied. Young trainers training with their pokemon, young couples picnicking, all sorts of people relaxing, reading, etc. An average day overall, and while some might look interesting or be coaxed into providing entertainment, none of them were available at the moment to handle the gentle stirring of desire in his crotch.

It was a little frustrating, honestly, and once more the thought of handling it himself made itself known. Certainly something Snow had done before, perhaps a lot more than he was willing to admit in public. But in a public park, hidden by only the shade of a tree and some grass? That was something different, kinkier, and... Perhaps just the thing to sate his need for both definitions of 'entertainment.'

Snow'd squirm, eyes shifty as he looked at the grouping of people and pokemon around him in a new light. Most could see him from here, some as close as maybe twenty feet away, and it's not like he blended in. With a right side as blindingly white as his namesake, eyes a deep purple, and a massive size in general, he'd already caught a few glances from curious park go-ers. It didn't help that he stood even more than normal, contrasting starkly with the green and brown around him.

None of that would be much in the way of stopping him though, and with his heart racing just a touch faster, the large canine would mutter "Fuck it" under his breath before thinking over exactly what he can do to prepare...

Letting out a soft grunt, Snow'd begin with a long, luxurious stretch. Paws forward, his body would arch towards the ground for a long while as he shifted and swayed to stretch everything a little more. Better to work now, to stretch every little muscle and tendon that made up his sides and back, knowing roughly from previous experiences exactly what muscles will ache after this and how bad they could be. Though so very much worth the effort if it garnered some entertainment, Snow'd much prefer not having to carefully tip-toe his way back after this.

Once he did though, Snow'd be thankful for the summer grass that cushioned his paws. Long enough to be comfortable but short enough to easily spend a little time shoving pebbles and sticks to the side, clearing a space right against the tree and facing the densest population of people. He's really doing this, and the thought of it sends a spark of thrill and worry coursing through him. It'd be the first time he'd ever been aware of a large group watching him get off, let alone the rather messy kinkier method of a self-suck. It makes the dark type rather nervous, and though he forces himself to relax, that black fluffy tail of his can't help but wag his overall excitement to the world.

Stretching done, the canine sits and pauses. He typically keeps himself pretty well groomed, but who knows what little twigs or leaf pieces have attached themselves since this morning? If he's going to provide a show, he couldn't bare to do less than be presentable! So after a quick shift to widen his legs, Snow's head would crane down and in to inspect himself.

Draped sack-like on its little pad of compressed grass, and furred in a grey that matched the rest of his mid-body coat, the canine's balls would appear perfectly regular. Sized about the width and length of small apricots, the fur of his pair would be a little longer and a little sparcer than the rest of its shade. With no particular grooming to be done, excluding a small lick to smooth over a tuft of fur and another because it felt good, he'd move on.

A little higher on his lower belly and right where he'd left it, the dark types short-furred sheath would sit happily overshadowed, proudly sprouting the first inch of canine dong. Probably spurred forth by knowledge of exactly what's to come, and already gleaming with a bead of pre, Snow'd quickly decide to leave the best for last and continue on to his original target. On closer inspection, his sheath does appear a little worse for wear, though only marginally, as the denser fur has snagged onto and trapped a small piece of stick. Working quickly to remove it with a few well placed gnaws Snow's unable to avoid rubbing his cheek against his own tip, enjoying the feeling more than he'd like to admit before finally getting it out and licking the damp fur smooth.

Regardless though, he's not here to admire. So with a soft huff Snow moves on to what is undoubtedly the main event. Beaded with only the tiniest droplet of pre, his tip and the following inch of doggy dick is thick enough in itself to gently stretch the opening of his sheath, regular in that it quite regularly has to stretch fairly wide enough to accommodate the much thicker knot.

Seeing that everything appears to be how he left it, and with anticipation visible in the near-constant wagging of that fluffy black tail, Snow takes a long look around. Though he hadn't noticed anyone paying a particular amount of attention, it only took a short look around for a couple to meet his glance and quickly look away. He was visible, and with everything clean and presentable... The dark type gives a soft huff of finality. Everything's ready.

Letting his hesitation drain out, Snow falls back and presses his back against the tree, arching his back and craning his neck once more to force his head low, lower, until his neck muscles shiver with the effort, looking faintly uncomfortable with that black nose pressing gently into the fur of his sheath. His mouth opens and tongue runs across the right side of those full-looking orbs. Lick after lick, cradling the orb he allows his tongue to fold over and across it, leaving a snail-trail of saliva behind as the clean, slightly masculine flavor of it begins to leach into his mouth.

To a spectator, It'd be obvious something strange was afoot. With his back propped against a tree, tail sprawled out before him, and genitals clearly receiving attention only hidden by his own muzzle, it wouldn't take much for someone to connect the dots.

A single spasm would send a leg papping gently against the ground as a spasm, his tail speeding up as he continues such wonderful ministrations. Having others play with them was well and good, but it was almost always foreplay. A few licks here, a few licks there, before moving onto his cock. But sometimes he wanted more, and who better to provide than himself? It scratches that itch so perfectly in fact that he barely manages to hold back moving to a little more acceptable pace, summoning the willpower by remembering how absolutely delicious the ache, the need, has been in the past...

The effect of his teasing would, so far, only be rather prominent to the lusty dark type. Inch after inch of cock would glide out of his sheath, slipping against the warm fur of his chin and neck while leaving a snail-trail of pre. Tempted once more by the lures of an immediately greater, but lesser overall pleasure Snow would occupy himself by switching his attention to the other, now rather lonesome orb.

Slowly his tongue would drift over and across the remaining nut, providing the same detailed 'clean' he did the its brother and enjoying it just as much. Pink tongue perfect contrast to the now-darker grey of his fur, vibrant and shiny with saliva, his cock would twitch just a touch as a tongue thick and muscular enough to lift the orb did so.

He'd roll it across the slick surface, juggling it before eventually slipping it into his mouth, sucking, massaging, drooling purposefully just enough to leave thicker trails of saliva to roll down the curve of his sack and drip right onto that tight tailhole, leaving it to shine just a touch in the diffused shade of his tree.

Snow would keep at it. Building his desire higher and higher, soft huffs and pants escaping his muffled muzzle even while his sheath finishes sprouting the entirety of its rather twitchy hardness. The scent of it would begin to permeate the air around him, his own nose filled to the brim, to be blown who knows where by the gentle breeze... Fuck did he want people to watch him, to give a show, and for a second he considered delving even lower. Switching to a position that would allow it and craning his back and neck to its limit to delve his own depths, as he'd managed to do once or twice before.

It'd be entertaining, undoubtedly, and certainly pleasurable, but he wasn't sure he wanted to push the main event off for so long, or if he could even handle it with how pent and needy he already was... So he finishes up, licking his chops clean of any excess drool before rolling forward to sit and stretch his back. Unconcerned for his open erection, and its visibility may be in the summer grass between his legs, the canine takes the opportunity to catch his breath before fully 'admiring' himself.

Grey-furred chest heaving, lungs happy to finally be in a position to get a full breath, Snow'd turn his lidded gaze down towards his meaty pole; eleven inches of doggy meat, thick, and though brought to a point at the tip it remains equal in girth other than that. Besides, of course, The knot. Only partially inflated, its already pushing two inches in diameter. Pinkish-red like the rest of his shaft, it remains the only mostly dry portion of his length, the rest having been smeared with the profuse amount of pre he's been leaking. It aches and twitches and throbs, with the color contrasting brightly enough to undoubtedly extinguish any previous uncertainty on 'what that rather large mightyena is doing to himself under that tree over there'...

By now, attention has been drawn. Taking a quick look around the dark type would work to notice the few lounging pokemon and trainers paying attention, or looking like they were trying not to, a glameow and her trainer in particular doing their best to look preoccupied reading their book while intensely flustered barely twenty feet away. He was catching whiffs of the glameow from here, and though her lithe form was beyond tempting in his current state, he'd be rather committed at this point. So, settling once more against the tree, he'd take a deep breath and ready himself.

And it seems like he has no intention of keeping himself waiting. Rolling his shoulders and letting out a soft shiver at the feel of the gentle breeze against his shaft, Snow would once more arch his back and crane his neck down his chest, bringing his hungry maw level with that leaky length. He'd eye it appraisingly, revealing once more in the heedy, masculine scent of arousal, before opening his maw and letting that tongue loll out inches away from that tip. Just as pink and slick as before, it provides a moderately duller contrast than his shaft as he looks around, meeting the surprised gazes of the few people and pokemon he knew would be watching, flying a little wink the glameow's way specifically before leaning down a little further and trailing his tongue from base to tip, swooping up to flit across that pointed nub and gather the pre right below. He'd let out a mixed snarl of pleasure and surprise as a shot of the same spurts out and splatters against his throat.

Paused only for only as long takes as long as it takes to swallow slightly-spicy-slightly-salty-mostly-watery liquid, Snow'd return to it. Tongue slow, purposeful in its actions as it trails up and down his length, it'd soon gleam gently in the lighting under his tree. It wouldn't take long for this steady treatment to make his eyes flame gently with need, with hunger, showing a real effort in self restraint even as his foot would begin to pap some more, leg stretched out and shivering in pleasure.

Keeping at it, and speeding up those licks to something a little more manageable, cracks begin to show in his ability to hold back. Signs like a soft growl here or there, a shiver tensing the muscles along his side or back, even the forceful swishing of his tail through the grass is a clear show of exactly how much the canine's enjoying himself. In fact, he can feel the first tinge of orgasm settle in his loins. Distant as it is, Snow'd let loose and begin steadily to race towards it. Lick after lick across every inch of his rod, saliva running down in droplets to trail across the curve of his bulbs with sloppiness that no longer feels as purposeful and controlled as it once did.

Suddenly and without warning a surge of his head would break the rhythm, a jerk forward and up by both ends of him to spear that own drooling cock into an equally drooling maw. The heat of it would send a larger shiver through his body. Pants and huffs loud as they're forced through his nose, like a mad dog the canine's head would begin to bob, growl and snarls low and deep in tone to send wonderful vibrations through his rod. With a knot now openly swelling and dripping with precum-laced saliva, he knows this can't be where he finishes, least of all at this point for the bystanders watching...

So with skills honed to an edge by his own rather embarrassing practice, he'd pause and ever so slowly push himself deeper and deeper. Shivers and spasms would run up his back, having to place a paw to the side to help support himself as the twitching and clenching begins to reach his neck. The pleasure-mixed discomfort of it all is starting to get to him as those black lips creep down. Lower and lower, past the halfway mark as a another weak spurt of pre would coat the back of his throat. Further and further, iron will born from practice and sheer need was barely able to resist jerking his hips to seal it as finally, those lips would crest and slip around his knot even while his breath would be forced to halt. He'd sit there, a mess in every sense of the word and shivering as that doggy tongue attacks his sensitive glands like he were some slut desperate for seed to survive.

Then, finally, he couldn't take it. Purple eyes would clench tight as he begins to fuck his own throat. Hips bucking and jerking wildly, inaccurate while his head and neck tried to compensate. Needy, demanding grunts and snarling gasps would escape when they could, his breaths hurried and short between the forceful delves of cock. That knot of his, so perfectly sheening and now sized like the average fist would fill the entirety of his mouth, tip fully plugging his esophagus while his body screams for breath, to pull out. But he can't. He WON'T. Self-preservation cracks and relents under the immense force of his own cascading pleasure, and a howl would try to rip from his throat and escape into the air, stopped short as his hips force that deeper, lips locked around his sheath and almost biting down as his body explodes into orgasm, finally tripping over that edge into a freefall of mindless pleasure.

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The dark type would huddle there, spasming and rocking under his tree, people and pokemon watching in emotions ranging from amazement to disgust to horror as his body, would buck in the throws of a more than slightly oxygen-deprived orgasm. He wouldn't even get to taste a drop of the load he worked so hard for, the sheer force of it gushing it down his gullet. Eyes clenched shut against the onslaught of pleasure and a body screaming for air, the trembling of his body would almost force the canine to fall onto his side, fluttering heart racing in his ears, speeding up past safe levels he'd tremble there silently for long enough for his orgasm to slow, and fade, leaving only a primal need to breathe, to milk himself for every drop, every strand, before pulling out with a gasp that'd quickly devolve into a coughing fit of epic proportions, caught by a final dribble of cum and saliva sucked into his lungs. Free from it's hole, various fluids would string the space between mouth to knot and his tongue would slip out to absently lick at his chops, only then able to get the barest taste of that salty, spicy load.

He'd then promptly collapse against the side of the tree, breathing hard and with his body still be gently shivering. Immensely satisfied with himself, if a little groggy, he'd struggle to roll over and tuck his trembling limbs beneath his sore body, Still recovering, he'd remember vaguely where he was and check his surroundings, meeting some of the shocked, surprised, aroused, or annoyed glances with the ease of someone who knows exactly what his gifts are.


So! This is my very first completed story, ever. Not sure how to feel that it took me being the subject to finally finish one, but I'm glad nonetheless. If you have any feedback at all, constructive or otherwise do let me know! I'm interested in hearing all reactions if possible.

I could also probably use some help with the tagging. Probably.