FSE

Furry search engine

formerly SoFurry search engine

Scott glanced up into the rearview one last time, fingers drumming nervously across the steering wheel while he waited. This has to be it, he told himself. This has to be what's missing. Right? If she doesn't see that much in me, then, well... maybe she'll see something in them._One of the cars honking behind him forced his attention back to the road, and he continued on. _And, besides, if it doesn't work out... I'll still have them. So that's kind of a win-win. Right?

_ _

Girl of my dreams, with one more glance at the kennels in the back seat, or a pair of dogs adopted on a whim. This'll be it. This has to be it. Just have to... get them home, and get them acquainted, and then... then have Cindy over to see them. And we'll be off on our date.

Yet another glance back showed not one but two pairs of eyes each peering out from their respective crates, each warm and curious. Rex and Sasha, a male and a female, chosen on both the adoption office's recommendation for someone like him who had truly always wanted a dog but never had a reason to get one, and on his own personal experience visiting the place these past few weeks. They were always just as excited to play with each other as they were to see him, and Scott tried to keep that in the back of his mind whenever thinking about the whole thing.

All these years dutifully and rightfully saving himself for marriage, and now that he was finally out of college he thought he'd finally found the girl for it. Cindy loved dogs, and if that was the key to getting her to love him as well, then that would serve as the reason to take the step and get those dogs. Hopefully she didn't mind the smell, though: the longer he spent on the drive home, the stronger the smooth, rich scent of dog permeated the air, wrinkling his nose and tickling at the back of his throat a bit.

"Almost there," he told them, briefly looking into the side mirror to make sure he was clear to change lanes. "Don't you two worry. We'll have you out and about in hardly five minutes."

He had made sure to give them, and himself, some time before he would be seeing Cindy again. His parents had owned a dog when he was growing up, as did many of his friends at school, but he had never had one to himself, much less two. He tried to carry one under each arm after arriving back home, found he couldn't, and made it two trips instead, setting their kennels out in the living room, looking between them, and then opening the cage doors, with him still kneeling on the floor between them. They really were beautiful dogs, both of them: Rex was a husky, lovely and well-kept ear to tail with thick plush fur shifting from snow white to stone grey and shadow black; then Sasha was a German shepherd, sharp and straight, strong and athletic if not a little scatterbrained at times.

Grinning, Scott came forward and wrapped his arms around their shoulders, drawing the lovely animals in against himself - and breathing more deeply of that characteristic scent of dog. "I'd better get used to that," he said, pulling out of the hug with a chuckle in his throat, "shouldn't I? Welcome home, you two. Go on, run around, see the house. Stretch those legs of yours."

They liked hearing his voice, it seemed: whenever he spoke or looked at one of them, that one's tail started wagging, and then the other noticed the wagging tail so theirs started up as well. It felt like they had each had a previous owner as well, as they responded to certain commands and, of course, knew the inherent excitement in the phrase let's go for a walk, as Scott quite quickly found out that afternoon. He had briefly disappeared into his home office to take care of something, then after a while came to be aware of some noises down the hall in the other room. When he went to investigate what had happened, the sight that met him in that room immediately made him blush, stammer, and avert his eyes: Sasha had her tail raised and hind legs spread while Rex nose and licked beneath, the thick, plump protrusion of her sex impossible to miss at that angle and the scent so similar to what he had picked up in the car filling the room. He had bustled to get them apart, to push Rex away and scold the two of them, but as soon as he dropped to his knees he of course caught sight of the pulsing red length between the male's hind legs as well, bouncing with each throb of his heartbeat.

They must have some energy to work off, he figured, after being cooped up at that place and in my car for so long. So let's tire them out. And he brought them on a walk, first around the neighborhood and then down the next street towards the park. Scott kept an eye on them the whole time, though drifted off into answering messages on his phone at one point, and of course looked back up to nearly the same scene. This time, though, it was the movement of Rex hopping up onto Sasha's back with his hips swiftly, fervently hammering away. Tugging on the leashes did nothing, shouting did nothing other than make them both look at him while going at it, so Scott actually had to get down on his hands and knees and manually pull them apart. For the entire walk back home he forced himself to ignore the dripping slickness on his right hand, off of which emanated that strong scent of dog with the strange unique spice beneath it.

In preparation for this he had rented books from the library and called up his parents and some of their friends for advice and tips, but most of them had glazed over that particular part of things - most of them dutifully had their dogs fixed as soon as they were of the proper age. Rex and Sasha both were well into adulthood, and Scott hadn't really looked into if there would be any adverse effects now, but at the same time he didn't want Cindy to come over and find these dogs fresh out of surgery. There's a whole weekend 'til then, he told himself. I can handle it in that time.

Naturally, though, the dogs endeavored to prove him wrong. It felt like whenever he turned his head or put his focus on something else, he heard the jingling of their collars, the lapping of wet tongue across wetter flesh, the rustling and huffing of swinging hips, and the scent. Always the scent, growing stronger, spreading through the house and pulling his attention right back to the pair of them. The adoption center hadn't mentioned anything about Sasha being in her heat, and Scott didn't know enough about that particular part of the dog to know whether she was.

After the third or fourth time he stopped trying to get down to pull them apart, too: it was something he'd never seen before, and something that sick curiosity of course made him want to see, though he tried to avoid admitting it to himself. The union of each of their slick, hungry, pulsing genitals, the glistening wetness of canine arousal, the strong scent dripping from the action just like the actual fluids, the way it spread across his skin and at one point stained his jeans... the last time, he had to avert his eyes while pulling them apart, and in doing so ended up running a pair of fingers across Sasha's plump mound right as Rex pushed into it, the firm meat of his shaft slipping smoothly across Scott's hand and his full sack bouncing against his knuckles.

His reaction the first time had been to scowl, sniff at the wet spot, grimace, shake it off, and walk away. This time, though, all he could think to do was blink, sigh, roll his eyes, and only then bring his hand away, not even bothering to wipe it off. Most of that focus and attention went into pushing down the stirring that had begun between his own legs, which he told himself was just excitement at thoughts of what would come when Cindy next visited - although thoughts like that had no place in his mind, of course, so he tried his best to push them away. No matter how much he tried, though, no matter how deliberately he avoided watching the dogs or smelling his hand or thinking about what had happened, the awareness was always there, as was the faint tingling of arousal.

It was the smell, he realized, more than the actual sight. Scott would be cleaning up the bedroom only to have them start going at it behind him, and the scent wafting up and curling around him would make him simultaneously want to kneel down to get a better taste as much as to turn and leave. It would distract him from watching TV or reading a book, and even once when he was cooking dinner it came up over the smell of roasting potatoes. One night he went to bed, felt a damp spot, sniffed at it... and immediately his body responded, twitching and throbbing against the sheets, resisting his best efforts to ignore it and go to sleep.

Of course it carried over through his sleep. He woke up the next morning vaguely aware of the receding memories of a very particular dream involving himself and both Rex and Sasha, and then much more strongly aware of the twitching, throbbing deviance between his legs. Ashamed, embarrassed, wanting to forget about it as soon as he could like everything else, Scott took an extra-early and extra-hot shower right afterwards, even though he usually saved them until right before bed to help relax. Sasha had hopped up onto the bed during the night and slept there, while he nearly tripped over Rex on his way out of the bedroom. Let them sleep, he told himself. Give myself a break from all of that for once.

It didn't last long, though. The sound of him pouring his cereal must have come across similar to the noise of him filling their bowls with their own food, so he had to navigate and step over two large furry bodies in trying to make his way back over to the table, and once there they wouldn't stop trying to hop up into his lap and get their turn at his breakfast. At least it was a break from the constant sex and stench, and the... thoughts and fantasies that those sent fluttering through his head, filling his mind now even as he just barely thought about it.

The huffing and panting from each of the dogs, the movement of their bodies, the tensing and relaxing of the muscles in Rex's hind legs and haunches; the pulsing of his puckered tailhole, the swinging of his heavy sack, the little spurts and drips of fluids escaping from each thrust; the wet sounds, the slurping of the tongues, the slapping of flesh on flesh, the rustling and pleasured whimpers; and then of course the scent, the smell of wet dog magnified and sharpened, clinging to the back of his nose, drifting in even from the other room whenever it happened.

Not now, at least. Scott came back to himself, reaching a hand down to adjust the fit of his pants, and looked at Sasha sitting at one side of his chair and Rex at the other, both wagging, both patient. He took another bite of his cereal and then sighed, rolled his eyes, and got up to fill each of their bowls as well. Today looked like it would be an easy day, at least, with this, the morning walk, and then literally nothing planned.

So the first thing he did when he returned from that walk, slightly sweaty from the warm summer sun, was kick his shoes off; then the second was, of course, to flop limply back onto the couch in the living room and flick the TV on. The dogs joined him soon after, immediately setting his heart to beating, but Sasha just lay down on the carpet at his feet while Rex settled in alongside him. Still, though, he couldn't stop his mind from wandering, nor his eyes from tracing down the smooth form of first the dog on the floor and then the one against his side, following the line of their spine through thick fur down towards the curled tail, up and around, imagining what it was that hung beneath, with which he had become very familiar just these past two days.

He forced himself to look back up at the TV and to try to pay attention to the commercial currently running, but just couldn't. It was the thought of the same puckered pink flesh flashing into his mind, then the thick, heavy, slick meat of Sasha's sex beneath, bouncing and jiggling whenever she took a step or when Rex thrust into her, or when... when she rolled over onto a side, sat up, pushed her nose down between her hind legs and then started lapping at herself, just as she did now. Scott swallowed and tried to ignore it, though this time the wet licks tickled at his ears as well.

Naturally, he wasn't the only one. Beside him Rex lifted his head from the couch and perked, watching the shepherd as she went at herself; then a few seconds later he stood up, wobbled on the soft cushion, and hopped down to the floor, collar jingling as he went. Scott stretched out in the space left by the dog, partially to get more comfortable and partially to try to obscure the two from his vision so he could actually focus on the TV.

And it worked, kind of. Head sideways on the arm, body pushed back against the couch, eyes forward, Scott could only halfway see the two dogs where they were, there on the carpeted floor. Sasha remained on her side though rolled over a little further; Rex padded forward, lowered his head, picked up the lapping for her; and then Scott willed himself to look away again, collars jingling, fur and carpet rustling as the two got right back into their usual position. The rustling and jingling was soon joined by snuffling and panting, and then further by the rhythmic sound of fur on fur and the quiet slapping of flesh to flesh.

Scott covered his mouth and nose and stared at the screen. He reached for the remote, turned up the volume, tried to sharpen his attention to focus on the extendo-arm attachment for your MasterCleaner 3000, allowing you to get those tall, hard-to-reach second floor windows! and whatever else the guy was talking about. Even so, though, he was kept aware of the dogs in front of him, Rex's back shifting and moving with his quick, frantic thrusting, Sasha beneath him keeping her mouth open and panting, entire body bouncing with the force and rhythm of the action. Scott's eyes drifted at one point towards those strong, white- and grey-furred haunches pushing forward and pulling back, and at the swinging sack bouncing forward against Sasha with each thrust.

Yet again he swallowed, and only then did the scent hit him. The very same as he had tasted so often this weekend, strong and rich yet smooth and flat at the same time, undeniably canine in its musk yet still carrying a note of something else, some sharper spice that repeatedly drew his eyes down no matter how many times he forced himself away. The bodies shivering and shaking in the tight union, the panting and huffing from Rex each time he pounded into her, the arching of his back as he drew close, the frantic lifting of a leg to try to get deeper... the faint growling, the thrusting, and the failed tie, the two of them suddenly slowing down and stilling before Rex moved to turn himself around.

This time Scott couldn't look away. Already he noticed a thick drip of clear fluid drop down to the carpet beneath them, then another as Rex dismounted and hopped down. The husky took a step and a half forward to try to pull on the tie, though the lack of that instead just caused him to continue on, his thick, red-veined length swinging forward and down beneath his body, splattering more of that juicy load out across the carpet just as it dripped from Sasha's stretched, used sex. He padded forward a bit further and then turned around again, nosing right back down beneath the shepherd's tail to first sniff at and then taste the mess he had left inside and on her.

Both of their tales were wagging. Sasha looked back at the other dog, tongue hanging out of her mouth, and then moved to lie down again, though as soon as she did so she went on to roll over onto her back, forelegs raised up over her chest and hindlegs spread. Scott couldn't help but lean in to watch, then, seeing the little points of the darkened skin of her nipples poking out from the fur of her belly, lining the way down towards that lovely spade.

Think about Cindy, Scott told himself, even as she shifted to sit up. What would she think? The fact of the matter was, however, he hadn't thought about her since halfway through yesterday, and now it felt forced and unnatural - which it was. All his life he had waited and willed himself away from such a thing, even when all of his friends were sharing clips of their favorite porno in the halls at school during lunch; when there had been that one part in that movie he saw his junior year of high school, which always came into his head at night; and then afterwards, always a battle of thought and will, always with him succeeding and coming out on top.

He had never even felt it, nothing more than some accidental grinding when waking up with morning wood, or some intentional touching and feeling only to feel guilty about it and stop shortly after. Sasha whined softly as he dropped to his knees a short distance away, then even more as he started coming closer; her tail wagged between her body and the floor, thumping quietly against the carpet as he approached. Rex watched from a distance, his heavy shaft still bouncing, throbbing, spurting between his hind legs, further dampening the carpet in a distinct streak.

Sasha looked at him, begging in her eyes and in the position of her forepaws above her chest. Her tongue hung out of her mouth in steady panting, though as Scott approached she flicked it back in, lapped her chops, and then let it flop out again; her tail continued to thump against the carpet beneath her, picking up speed and force the closer he came.

What am I doing? he thought, but neither did he have an answer nor could stop. Soon he knelt above the bitch, Rex off behind him still watching the two, with the heat of her body radiating up into him. The plump, fat flesh of her sex, roughly spade-shaped, jiggled and shook between her hind legs with her panting, the milky liquid of the other dog's load dripping out and down across the base of her tail - and this close the scent was nearly unbearable.

Not in a bad way, though. Scott swallowed and reached forward, placing his hand against her chest, feeling the thin fur there, the warm skin, he lines of ribs beneath.

"There you go, girl..." he murmured, already bringing that hand further down. Ribs passed beneath his fingers, with the occasional bump of a somewhat swollen nipple running across his palm. Intensely hot, and soft with a certain kind of firmness to it... he continued down over a second, a third, and then a fourth and a fifth on the other side of her belly when he tilted and splayed his hand. "That feels good, doesn't it? That feels..."

And then there was a much wetter heat against his wrist, the heel of his hand, his thumb. He swallowed again, bringing his hand away just enough to feel that sticky wetness cling to his skin and stretch out in a heavy strand. The dog whined again and squirmed her lower body, rubbing the soft flesh of her spade up against his hand again.

_ _

It's what she wants, he told himself, lowering his hand down further. Instead of nipples, this time it was the point of that rounded triangle that his fingers spread around, pushing across the soft, dense surface, spreading it open, pulling the skin and flesh wet with both her natural arousal as well as Rex's load. It's what I...

He squirmed where he knelt, trying to adjust the pressure on himself in his pants. He looked up to Sasha's face again and smiled, though felt it falter immediately when his gaze floated back down to her spread legs and dripping sex, with his hand right there on top of it. He rolled it to the side, dragged his thumb along the base, let it drop down to feel the intense, sharper heat of her tailhole, twitching and pulsing rhythmically... and then, without another thought, he turned his hand, ran a finger up amid that sticky wetness, and then pressed it into her, slowly, carefully.

He kept an eye on her as he went, not at all sure what to expect. First he felt her squeeze around his finger, and then relax when he pressed close to his knuckle. Her scent, strong and sharp, washed up over him and brought him in further - literally: he adjusted himself so that he more lay across the floor, arm propping himself up, face so close to her that he could lick her if he were to stretch out his tongue. Each movement of his hand and finger against the dog caught and refocused his attention, what with the soft, wet schlk that reached his ears, or the puff of aroused musk, or the sensation of thick juice oozing out of her and along his knuckles.

The tension and nervousness of the entire situation vibrated through him, keeping his hands shaky and his breath unsteady. Still, though, when he slid that finger out of her and wiped his now-slick fingertip off along her lower belly, he wasted no time in reaching down to unbutton his pants with his other hand. A second finger joined the first, twisting slowly as he pressed them in, pushing through the squeezing muscles and the shivering body, spurred on by the tail still wagging against his lower arm. Scott swallowed again and closed his mouth, not realizing he had let it drop open, and then shifted so he could slip his pants and underwear down his legs.

He was throbbing hard, more than his dream this morning, more than when he had found his dad's stack of magazines high up in the bathroom closet back in high school, more than anything he could remember. Just the barest of touches to himself made him twitch and shiver and thrust down against the carpeted floor, just as he pressed his fingers more firmly up into the panting bitch ahead of him. Sasha wiggled on his knuckles, grinding her hips in against his hands, wanting him deeper though he already pressed against her body.

What am I doing? he thought again, adjusting his position and slipping his fingers back out of her. Immediately he brought those to his nose, tasting the scent nearly from the source and feeling it wash over and through him. Why am I doing this? I've wanted to save myself for the perfect woman, and now here I am... lying on the floor, fingering a dog, loving it... I want to stop, but at the same time I don't. I...

With that same hand he reached down and gave himself a slow, tender stroke, followed by a second, and a third, the slickness of Sasha's body clinging easily to his skin and filling him with her heat. Scott sucked in a breath through gritted teeth, stroking twice more before he came back up to his knees and started coming forward over the dog, still on her back with her tail thumping.

I want this.

"I'll go slow," he found himself murmuring. Sasha's eyes met his and the dog lapped her chops again, wiggling her body with excitement. "Okay? I just want to... I'm just... thinking..."

With that same hand he angled himself down, prodded tentatively against her sex, shivered at the wet heat, and then found her entrance and... pressed his weight down, pushing in. And the feeling was _exquisite,_immediately wrapping around him just as her warmth did, pulling him in so that he knew he would not be able to stop.

And he couldn't. As soon as he felt her grip and squeeze around him he moved his hand away, bracing it against the carpet on the other side of Sasha while his hips still pushed forward, his entire body shivering with the sensation. Sinking slowly into hot, tight warmth, silky and delicious, squeezing and clenching around him, so, so smooth... a moan escaped his parted lips, more a breathy sigh with a bit of voice behind it, suddenly pulled out of him from the intense feeling of it. Beneath him Sasha wriggled a little more, tail now thumping against his legs as he continued to press into her, entire body shaking with him.

"Goodness..." he breathed, eyes fluttering shut. This time instead of the knuckle of his hand he pressed himself in to the base of his shaft, short pubic hair pressing into and matting down with all of the leaked juices and slickness. Not only was he pressing into Sasha's spade, but he could also feel the remnant loose stickiness of the other dog's cum as well, clinging to and rolling down his balls. Scott swallowed, moaned again, throbbed inside of the dog, felt her squeeze back against him again, throbbed again. He couldn't help it - it just felt so, so good.

This definitely was an unfamiliar position to him, though, as someone who had never so much as brought himself to orgasm with his own hand. All his life he had waited, wanting to save his first time for the woman with whom he would spend his life, just like his mother and the pastor had told him all of his life. He had maintained that ideal even throughout college and moving out afterwards, and yet... yet here he was, buried balls-deep inside the dog he had adopted just a couple of days ago, her tail wagging between his legs and her breath hot on his neck and chest. And he loved it.

Slowly Scott started to pull his hips back, listening for the warm, wet sucking sound of her spade around his shaft. Again and again he adjusted his position, bringing a knee up and then letting it back down, pushing his pants further down his thighs, resting his weight more on one arm than the other, but throughout it he still maintained that slow, shaky rhythm, pulling out towards his head and then pressing in again, relishing every inch, every millimeter of the sensation squeezing around him. Eventually he ended up pausing while half-buried so he could yank his pants the rest of the way off, loving the feeling of twitching and shifting while inside of Sasha. It was a weird, awkward position, and he ended up sinking in to the hilt three more times by the time he managed it, but the freedom of movement in his legs afterwards and the feeling of being able to press deeper into her, balls resting against her twitching tailhole, made it worth it. So there he continued his rhythm, lifting up and pushing back down into her, feeling the damp heat spread out along his groin and drip down his sack, feeling his own pleasure and arousal grow with hers beneath him.

It was still an awkward position and a strange movement, but every part of it felt so good to him. He brought an arm down closer to his body to push himself up, adjusted and spread his legs, tilted his head back, let his mouth hang open - and then gasped at the sudden feeling of cold wet nose against his bare rump.

"Wait-" Scott braced his hands against the floor and tried to twist around, where he saw the husky's sharp ears and smooth-furred muzzle bending down towards his backside. He buried himself inside of Sasha again, trying to use the leverage there to pull out, but instead felt that nose slip down against his tailbone and... and then the tongue, broad and flat and warm, flicked out. And then it did so again, and again, and again, and he found his resolve crumbling.

It was a strange feeling, having that smooth sensation slip across him, dragging along tender, sensitive skin and flicking up, again and again. The dog's tongue felt dry, yet certainly wasn't; Scott paused, relaxed, pushed his rear back a bit, partially slid out of Sasha beneath him... then dropped his face into the fur of her shoulder and moaned softly, reaching back with one hand to spread himself and allow Rex easier access. He found that it actually felt better for him to rhythmically squeeze and relax, to pucker and then push, back against that tongue as it worked.

To his surprise, it actually added a little - or, a _lot_more to the feeling. There was this bright, hot pressure building in his abdomen, spurred on with each drag of that tongue across him and growing with every movement of his hips, no matter how small or timid. He swallowed again, lifted his head, gave Sasha a tired a smile, and resumed his rhythm, lifting up against Rex's muzzle and then sinking back down into the bitch beneath him, the sensation of thick, sticky canine saliva clinging to his rump and rolling slowly down his sack.

Then it stopped, just as suddenly as it had begun. Scott almost didn't notice it at first between the feeling of Sasha squeezing and slipping around him; it took Rex leaping up onto his back, front paws clamping first at his shoulders, then his sides, and then settling around his waist, for him to open his eyes and look back again. The weight of full, adult male dog bearing down on his back when he was already having trouble keeping himself up, combined with the sudden awareness of his own thrusting, quick and frantic, at his backside...

Scott's eyes widened. He reached back for Rex's leg, trying to aim him to away, to keep him from finding his mark - but he failed beneath the ravenous tenacity of the intact husky. First there was some pressure from his slick, wet tip, sliding in along the side of his rear, jabbing underneath the bone of his pelvis, slipping up along the base of his spine - and then again right where that tongue had been, and then again, and then again. For a moment he tried to wriggle away, tried to push down into Sasha to escape the pulsing, pressing need of Rex on top of him - but then, though, that pressure started to sink into and fill him.

It was a bit painful at first, the dog's girth pushing in through tight muscles even slickened with saliva. Scott gasped and twitched again, his rhythm at the other dog slowing for a second, and gritted his teeth and clenched his fist. Rex had no sense of how slow he needed to go, of course, and just continued pounding full-speed at his owner's backside, paws clamped on his waist and muzzle curled down along his shoulder, breath hot and wet and urgent.

With each of those quick, fervent thrusts, Scott felt ever more of Rex press into him, stretching him wide and digging deep inside. It was hot, so hot: he could feel the dog's need in those thrusts and in the length he buried deeper and deeper inside his owner, the force of his thrusts in turn pushing Scott down into Sasha again, who had started her wagging all over again with Rex's presence in the mix.

It was wrong. Scott knew that. Every time a thought even bordering on something like this - and it had never been dogs - entered his mind, he had dutifully pushed it away and focused on something else, to resist the touch of temptation. It was wrong, and he could feel it in the back of his mind and pit of his stomach, but everywhere else in his body it felt so good. The slight discomfort of Rex pressing into his backside was still there, though now the quick, hard thrusts brought with them a certain undeniable pleasure and pressure, each one squeezing a breathy moan out from between Scott's lips and across Sasha's muzzle.

So wrong, yet it felt so good. With each thrust into the bitch underneath him Scott also actually found himself lifting up and out, pressing back against Rex's quickly-thrusting hips, inviting the dog deeper inside of him, magnifying and building that pressure. The male's sack swung forward against the back of his, nearly governing his rhythm inside Sasha as well - and between that constant, pounding pressure and the ever-present hot wet slickness of her around him, Scott felt that bright, growing pleasure build up faster and faster, growing and pressing out on him from inside.

He tried to hold himself back, tried to reassure himself that as long as he didn't finish, that that would absolve him of at least some of the shame of having done this. He gritted his teeth again and lifted himself up, pushing back up against Rex's body bearing down against him; he froze, still buried balls-deep inside of Sasha, the shepherd wiggling against him and making it even harder; but Rex continued pounding away at him, lowering his hips down so he could still keep himself inside of his owner, haunches flexing and tightening, balls swinging, mouth open and drooling across his back.

And it was that feeling, the sensation of Rex's length inside of him pressing away at him, that sent him over the edge. Scott swallowed, squeezed his eyes shut, gritted his teeth... then gasped and found himself twitching, bucking, shaking all over, one hand reached back to keep himself spread, the intense, sharp pleasure shooting back and forth through him as he unloaded deep inside of his dog, adding to the mix already inside of her. The wave of sensation nearly knocked all of the tension out of his arms and legs, and before he knew it he was pressed down on top of Sasha, chest to chest, the German shepherd beneath him panting into one ear while the husky on top of him panted into the other. Rex still pounded at him, fast and hard, and right as that pleasure started to turn to discomfort again he felt the dog lift one of his legs, try to gain footing on his thigh, fail, then try again - and then slow his thrusts, the pressure suddenly growing, tightening, sealing inside of him. Scott gasped at the feeling of the tie, the sudden thick bulge inside of him keeping the male bound tight against him, his untrained muscles unable to give way to that knot.

He was stuck, then. After a bit of effort and tense discomfort, every twitch and each movement forcing another shiver through his loins and emptying out another little spurt deep inside the other dog, Scott managed to lifted himself up and pull out of her. She spent a moment wiggling around, trying to roll over to stand up, and once she managed it she padded a short distance over and then sat right back down, the mixed weight of his own load as well as Rex's from before dripping out of her and onto the carpet beneath. Scott reached out a hand and sighed, knowing he would be stuck here for as long as Rex remained tied, the weight of the exhausted, happy dog keeping him in place.

The guilt started to flow in along the wave of realization of what he had just done - but it had felt so good. Unbelievably so. Tired, panting, still feeling the remnant pleasure echo through him with each pulse of the male on top of and inside of him, Scott let his head drop down to rest it on his arm, then jumped a moment later at the sound of his phone ringing. He reached back, abruptly remembered he had kicked his pants all the way off, then spent a second looking around for it.

It was a little bit tough balancing on one arm with the other lifted to his ear, but he managed it. "Um - hello?"

"Hey Scott!"

Suddenly his heart leapt into his throat. Scott looked over to Sasha a short distance away, who had curled back down to sniff and lap at her freshly-used sex, broad tongue dragging across wet flesh, releasing more of the milky white out along the base of her tail... and of course he thought about doing that for her, which he then pushed right out of his head.

"Oh! Um. Hey, uh, Cindy. What's - what's up?"

"Well, I was just out with my sister at that new coffee place down near the library..." She sounded bright and energetic, like always. Scott shifted the phone to his other ear while she spoke, his one arm getting tired - and then gritted his teeth and gasped as Rex suddenly dismounted, shaft and knot still tied tightly inside of his rump, so he could turn around and remain back to back against him, a bit of leakage from their debauchery_dripping down the back of the owner's sack. It felt almost as though his insides were being twisted around with him, and because of that he missed the entire middle part of what she had to say to him. "...your post online, and those dogs are just _the cutest and I'd love to come over and see them sometime!"

"Huh?" He swallowed yet again, squirmed, tried the tie, shivered all over again. "Oh. Yeah, um - I mean, I'm a bit busy..."

"Oh, come on." In his head he could see the smirk on her face. "Maybe we could go on, I don't know, a date, you know? Go to a park or something."

"Well..." Scott looked up to Sasha again who, satisfied with herself, had stood back up and padded back over towards the two boys. Even as she approached he could still pick up the distinctive, alluring scent on her, his exhausted interest rekindled from that and from the twitching he still felt buried inside of him, pressing on him in ways he had never imagined. "...I don't know. I mean, taking care of these two has been... a lot more _occupying_than I imagined, and..."

The disappointment was also palpable in her voice, but just like usual she perked up right after again. "...Oh. Well, I'll be here, you know. Talk to ya later, Scott."

He let the phone, silent, drift down in his hand and then set it face-down against the floor. Some more tugging, some relaxing, a bit of pushing... and he felt Rex finally slip free from his backside, knot still swollen but slimming down, pulling free from him with a wet pop and letting more that watery load drip out down his owner's sack. Scott flumped forward and sighed, relaxing in the relief of no longer having that weight inside of him, and then chuckled with the feeling of Sasha leaning down to lap at his face. After a while he sat up as well, wiped at his face, wiped at his slightly-sticky shaft, and then looked over to see Rex taking care of himself, still fully hard and throbbing outside of his sheath, the occasional jet of remnant seed spurting out across his muzzle.

Scott watched for a moment, finally letting himself indulge in the sick interest for once. Then, slowly, he started to lower himself back again, inviting the thick, musky scent of the canine's hard shaft to wash over and surround him. Rex paused in his licking when he noticed his owner coming close; Scott looked up to him, licked his lips, and swallowed.

"Why don't..." He scooted forward across the carpet a bit. It was so hot and humid down there. "Why don't you let me take care of that, Rex, boy?"

It was wrong, but again, it just felt too good.