Paws for thought
A Warning, to those who need it. This story contains blatant homoerotic fantasizing between furries, if you are underage or subsequently not allowed to view such material. You know exactly where you can go. To all others, enjoy
'Jeremy, oh Jeremy' I think as I walk into my apartment, that damn wolf was on my mind every time I returned home from work and every time I was at work and when I visited my parents or talked on the phone or when I grabbed my mail. Suffice to say that damn wolf is on my mind more often than not.
Not that he's a bad thing to have on my mind, he's sexy, intelligent, tall did I mention sexy. As soon as I see him my mind lingers on his image long after he's gone. Being that I' m twenty-two and male and a fox and in a state of near constant arousal. Well maybe being a fox doesn't have anything to do with it but I'm sure it's a contributing factor, how I can smell him from across the room, hear the familiar jingle of his keys. Sometimes my imagination just goes into overdrive.
Which brings me back to the present, throwing my work shirt into the laundry hamper, trying to concentrate on dinner. I throw myself onto the bed and try to relax. But Jeremy refuses to be denied and within minutes his images fill my mind flitting back from mere hours ago when Jeremy chose to bend over to pick up one of the stationary supply crates, the top of his furry asscheeks peeking out over the waistband of his pants, I look down past the thick white fur of my abdomen, see my bulge tenting the front of my pants and growl, frustrated at my inability to ignore my urges.
I walk back to my laundry hamper and strip off the rest of my clothes before returning to my room, letting the cool inside air caress my naked form. I sit on the edge of my bed and look down at myself, the tip of my cock peeking out of my sheath "What are we going to do about you?" I ask myself and for the moment my body only replies one answer.
I swing my legs up onto the mattress, letting my bushy tail find its own place to settle. I stretch, trying to ignore my attention deprived penis for as long as possible. I spread my knees wide, letting my balls slip between the gap, allowing my hands full access to my lower body. I watch my horny reflection in the mirror conveniently placed at the base of the bed "You just can't help yourself can you?" I ask of my reflection but he's too busy playing with his nipples to reply. My paws roam my pecs passing from the corse, rough amber fur to the sleek white fur of my torso; they pause only to play with the nubs of skin that my fur doesn't cover, tweaking the dark skinned tips before moving lower.
My paws trace curves that are barely visible through my fur, the soft rolls of muscles coiled beneath the skin of my abdomen. I entertain the though that it is Jeremy's charcoal paws massaging my belly, that Jeremy himself is stroking the downy fur and feeling my abdominal muscles. It is a thought that makes my hardness beg for attention, the sensitive organ swelling as it tries to escape my sheath. I torture myself, running a single claw up the length of my sheath, grazing the revealed hot flesh, my whole body squirming at the contact. But still I deny myself, much to my body's dismay I opt instead to comb my sensitive inner thighs with my claws, gently raking the softest flesh with the dull tips of my claws.
My eyes close and my imagination puts Jeremy between my legs, my minds eye sees Jeremy's thick, dark fur. Sees the big wolf who's well into his forties, easily old enough to be my father, older in fact than my father yet still as strong and supple as someone half his age, someone closer to my age. I imagine him using that strength to manipulate me, his golden eyes locked on mine willing my submission to him. My mind puts his paws, not mine urging my thighs apart, spreading my legs for the unmistakably lupine arousal jutting out from his body, hugely engorged, laced with thick veins. Drool flows unstoppable from my muzzle at the mental image my mind conjures of Jeremy, the viscous oral liquid running down my chin and into my chest fur as I imagine my workmate naked and ready.
My paws, having done their duties at this area, choose different paths to further heighten my arousal. My left paw, being the more subtle of my appendages travels north to entertain my musky ballsack, working my fingers through the sweat dampened fur to prod and poke and squeeze and stroke. The paw glides around the twin eggs, the hardest working part of my body and feels the swampy heated sack that is often hidden between my now wantonly spread thighs.
I can work for hours on my balls; give a giant portion of my masturbation time to work the two sperm producers. I get more feelings from my sensitive scrotum than my entire shaft but even then I can't cum with just fondling my sack, other body parts require attention for that.
My more daring right hand travels south, swiftly trailing the rim of my exposed tail-hole, teasing the base of my long tail that is there to guard the fragile orifice from such intrusions. I watch me fondling myself in the mirror and feel a brief flame of embarrassment as I watch myself shamelessly work my body. But that feeling is lost in the surge of endorphins that my brain feeds me. Locking eyes with my reflected self, one hand squeezing my tightening balls, one hand ready to sink my first digit into my ass, my gasping jaws spread and salivating on myself, I wonder what Jeremy would think of me now.
Jeremy. I blink and allow my mind to rematerialize him at the foot of my bed, a dark eager shadow, eager for me. I continue imagining as I impale myself on my finger, that Jeremy is mounting me. Not that Jeremy's cock would ever be this small, or furry, or clawed but I imagine it anyway, imagine that as he lodges his precum spouting tip inside me, that he hooks my thighs with his wide paws and prepares me to bind me to himself.
As my finger deeper penetrates me my eyes flick to the drawers that the mirror is propped up against, to be precise the top left hand drawer that houses my massive ten inch steel wolf dildo. But I'm too lost in the feelings now, too lost to stand, move the mirror, open the drawer and continue pleasuring myself with a five pound wolf prick, my fingers are working magic and they don't want interference. I rest my right hand, cupping my right buttock, allowing greater access for a greater amount of fingers. I yelp as the sharp claw on my second finger scratches my sphincter during entry but plunging it inside I don't dwell on it any longer because I'm quickly reaming myself with my digits, letting Jeremy, I mean my fingers have full access to my bowels. I blink again and envision Jeremy pumping above me, thrusting his long, furry fingers; I mean his slick cock callously within my rectum. I beg Jeremy's image to make me his bitch, to tie me and knot in my ass, to fill me until I explode with his boiling seed. But my imagination doesn't reply, he grins that wide toothy grin and shakes his head. Even my fantasy Jeremy denying me his cum.
My cock aches now, plumping up inside my sheath, now positively begging for the attention of a hand to release it, threatening to rip my sheath apart in its quest for pleasure and finally I obey, almost cumming at the feeling of wrapping my paw around my shaft. So engorged is the flesh that I have to tug on my sheath quite hard to free my straining penis which all but bursts from the thin furry covering of my sheath. I moan like a common whore as the cool air massages my exposed cock, my knot flexing, finally able to expand. Finally free my cock is able to access its full dimensions, rapidly reaching my painfully hard eight and a half inches, jerking and pulsing by the sheer volume of blood being forced through it.
I withdraw my fingers from the assault on my ass and allow my right paw to take control of my foxhood, my left returning to the massaging of my nuts. It's times like these I wish for and extra arm, the only thing feverently rutting my hole is my imaginary Jeremy, not that he's a bad lover. He's everything what I want him to be, except solid. Again my eyes flick to the hidden wolf cock but I know if I go now then the rhythm will be lost for tonight.
Every pad on my right paw connects with a well worn pressure point and within seconds the paw resumes its rightful place as ruler of the shaft, playing slick, moist the length like a harp. My left paw lazily lends a thumb to aid the conquest, slipping into the damp space between my sheath and my body, the ultra sensitive spot sending my heart racing and my tail wagging.
Above me the Jeremy image pounds his knot against my hole, his huge balls already buffeting my asscheeks as he attempts to shove the massive lump of his penis into my rectum. My paw matches the imaginary strokes, fingers teasing my own knot which is steadily swelling, preparing for the end.
I pull both my hands away from my spasming tool and just look at it for a while, the sharp tip protruding from the wide, flared head curving slightly down the six inch shaft until the wide ridges of my knot catch my attention down from that pulsing redness, the soft white fur of my wrinkled, bunched sheath. Shaft begging to be finished
And I can't deny it any longer. My paw returns with a fury, jerking like a hand possessed by some other force. Even the imaginary Jeremy is surprised by the fevered shucking of flesh against flesh.
I take a while to even recognize my own breathing, growling and whining as I paw my way to climax, realizing I won't make it to the shower today.
I will the conjured image of Jeremy to hurry and finish me and because he is my will the great charcoal wolf shoves his knot inside me. In real life I imagine this would be a painful and possibly even more arousing crescendo but I'll have to wait for that day to happen, I haven't even jerked the steel wolf cock into my bowels, preferring slower less pained strokes.
I feel my testicles contract towards my body, my breathing heavy and labored more growling than panting, my body curls into itself on some invisible axis
"JEREMY" his name is driven from my snarling lips as I orgasm, spewing thick wads from my ballsack to rest, a quivering mess upon my chest, grayish in comparison to the pure white of my fur. I spray again and again, arching from the gaping slit in my cock, shooting semen high into the air to be dumped unceremoniously across my torso, my bed, the floor. Steaming, shining pools of spent arousal.
My breathing rate returns to normal, slowly my heart beats its standard rhythm, my spent balls ache but pleasantly. After an age my fantasy lover withdraws from me and with a wry grin swiftly turns and walks through the wall into the night.
From across the road a howl reverberates through a darkened apartment. Thick ropes of semen lash out and rain upon the window at the sight of the young fox pawing himself to climax and continues to do so until the streams of cum running down the glass overflow the windowsill and trail to soak into the carpet. Due to the distance and noise of his own pleasured panting, the wolf fails to hear his own name being torn form the fox's lips but he imagines it anyway.
For a long while Jeremy watches his workmate, wonders why the fox didn't use that wolf dildo this time, watches as the young fox slowly gets up out of bed and dripping his own excess staggers to the shower disappearing from view. The mature wolf runs his fingers through the cum on the window and lifting it to his muzzle, tastes himself wondering deep in the back of his mind exactly what it would be like to have his workmate as his sexmate, the fox easily young enough to be his son. Leaving his sticky tribute to the fox to set on the dark glass Jeremy pants deeply and turns toward his own shower.