Teetering on a Fence: New Love
Teetering on a Fence: New Love
Chapter 1
"The New Guy"
The sun was finally filtering through the blinds telling Mark that he had to accept morning had come. It was cold in the new apartment, particularly at this time of year he imagined and it was going to still take a week for the servicemen to fix the problem. One more problem to have to deal with, he thought to himself. Stretching in place, he felt the thin edge of the sheet slide across his belly and across the tip of the swell in his boxers. Normally he would have enjoyed the teasing sensation, but the digital clock had already told him there was no time for handling this problem. He was late for the new job.
Sliding up off the bed which was strewn about in the corner of the almost empty room, he crawled around on the floor sorting through the pile of clothes that had been abruptly dumped without care in his rush to move in. Finding a decent shirt and jeans that were still clean, when most of his garments had not yet been washed due to his current situation, he dressed himself as fast as he could. Sliding on his work boots over his hind paws, he darted to the bathroom to spray on some body deodorant and ran water over his toothbrush to clean his teeth as best as he could. There were still traces of blood from the fight the night before, a moment he wished he could forget, but it would have to wait when he had time alone and was not rushed. There was much to think about. And he still wasn't sure he was safe.
After the sloppy self-bath and relieving himself when the "morning monster" went away, Mark grabbed his keys and wallet and slid them into the back of his pants. It was just when he was stepping out to lock the door did he realize his shoulders and jaw were still sore. The job was going to be physically demanding but he had no time to worry about it now. He was tough for a fox his age, had learned to be. Having grown up in tough conditions and running in street gangs made up of different dogs from rougher parts of town had hardened him. Nonetheless he was still sore, hungry, and desperate to get away from his past.
It took him half an hour to make his way to the construction site, which he walked to on foot. A friend of his aunt's had known about his situation and offered him a job as a runner for the crew to help straighten out his life. Even with the family ties, Mark was not making a good first impression. In all fairness though, he would not have overslept had that bastard Rocky, a once cherished Pitt Bull friend he had known for years not started the fight with the wrong people. Now Rocky was in the hospital, and Mark was left to hide in an old apartment his wealthy Aunt had kept for future guests at her new shop downtown. An apartment he would have to start paying for with this money. He went into the office in the trailer on site and approached the desk sheepishly. Mr. Horace was not happy.
"You're an hour late. You were really supposed to be here before the start of the shift so I could show you around. Now I'm going to have to pull someone off duty to give you the tour. We're already weeks behind on construction and I have six new guys to train. Jane says you have construction experience. Even some carpentry and metal working skills. That's good. But I need you to learn as much as you can quickly. I'm doing this as a favor and I am short staffed. But pull any stunts, or lose your cool with anyone and I'm washing my hands of you. You got that clear?"
Mark nodded, trying to maintain eye contact with the harsh broad face of the much older wolf. "Yes Mr. Horace. I don't want to let my Aunt down. I know you're sticking your neck out for me. I really want to get my life together." He said, trying to sound as responsible as possible. Deep down inside he knew though that his anger issues would come up, and he would have to deal with that or lose everything.
"Please, call me Jack." The wolf said, standing up to shake Mark's paw. "I'm going to be paying you under the table, so don't go talking to anyone about how much you are earning. I'm going to give you a little extra because your Jane's nephew, but don't expect many favors. When you are on my site, you do as you are told. Got it? Now, let's see if we can't get someone over to break you in." He barked someone's name through the speaker phone and started going on about needing to help the new trainee, but Mark couldn't make out what it was. His mind was too focused on the last comment. That's all people want to do, is break me. My jaw and nose, my back, and now my pride. Hold it together man. There was static on the other end until finally someone broke the silence.
"Jack, I can't man. We've started pouring and..." the voice said.
"Whatever, what about Russ?" Mr. Horace asked, squinting his eyes at Mark suspiciously. He wasn't sure why the uncomfortable glance.
"No good. Russ is having problems getting the elevator to.."
"Damnit! What about that new kid..um...what's his name? Frenchie...you know."
"Oh you mean Matthieu? Boss you gotta stop calling him that! I'll go check..." There was a pause.
Mark had a little giggle despite the awkwardness of the situation. It was obvious this pack had issues of its own. At least he didn't feel like the only chaos walking about.
"I need to ask you something after he gets back on the..."
"Matthieu takes a break in about 2 hours and was going to check the grounds for tools, check inventory until then. He can take your new guy around while he's doing it. I'll let him know to head that way. Gotta go sir." the voice interrupted.
"...Ok. Well Mark looks like you get to work while you're training. Matthieu's a good worker and has picked up stuff rather fast. You're his shadow for the whole day. Got it?"
"Yes sir. You can let him know that I will do my best. Anything you need me to learn I will work at it. You can count on me." Mark said, again trying to hide his nervousness with what he thought Jack wanted to hear. He knew that anything he did today good or bad would get back to his aunt. Especially the bad.
"I was going to ask you. What happened to your eye?" Jack suddenly asked, squinting suspiciously again.
Oh crap. I didn't have time to check the mirror this morning. Damnit. "This sir? I won't lie to you a friend started a fight last night, it's why I was late this morning. He went to the hospital and..."
"I appreciate your honesty, but if you fight here, you're gone. Remember that. You aren't the only tough boy I got on my team. These guys will eat you al.." He paused as the door opened and a figure stepped through.
Mark turned around and saw a silhouette at first then when the visitor came through the door he immediately locked eyes with the worker. _Is that Matthieu? _
The shepherd dog stood almost six foot and was wearing a foreman's hat. He had on a tight black t-shirt with some band's name faded across the front. His jeans were tucked into thick work boots and he was carrying a clipboard in one of his paws. There was a thick goatee of dark fur tucked under his lower jaw.
"Here Jack." He paused, looking the fox up and down. There was a hint of a smile in his muzzle. "You must be Mark. I'm Matthieu." He said, reaching out his paw in a friendly manner. The well-built shepherd's voice had a very deep but almost musical French accent to it. He seemed friendly enough, and a part of Mark, a part he didn't like to admit was there, found him visually attractive. It was a secret about him that only a very few knew. It wasn't just female pheromones that tweaked his nostrils exclusively.
"Hey man." He answered back, not sure what to say. There was a moment he realized he had been shaking the shepherd's paw longer than usual. He quickly withdrew his own and slid it into his pocket to hide his nervousness.
"Alright. I need to go about the grounds and check inventory, tools, and make sure everything's in place. If you learn this, you can keep things orderly around here. We run a tight ship."
"Understood." Mark replied, following as Mathieu motioned for him to follow. As he was stepping out, Jack whistled for his attention. He turned his head around and looked back through the door. "Yes sir?"
"I mean it. No fighting. No crap. Got it?"
Mark nodded.
After making idle conversation the two paced around the construction area while Matthieu checked off things on the clipboard. He had an almost forced walk, like he was tightly wound up whereas everyone else appeared to be lax, even careless. It was obvious the shepherd was not like the rest of the crew, though they all seemed to like him and even maybe were intimidated by him. It was apparent that he had made a good impression on Jack Horace, and Mark, taking his adaptive nature in hand, figured very quickly to be like this guy. First day on the job and already I'm feeling like everything I'm doing is going to be judged. I can't let my aunt Jane down...
Only a couple of hours had passed and it was already time for lunch. Matthieu went over the rules for breaks and lunches while he went through his checklist again. Though he had made small conversation with Mark, the fox could not but help feeling that he was getting the silent treatment because he was new. Finally needing to break the tension, and his pride hurt a bit, he spoke up.
"I know you probably get asked this all the time, but are you from France?" He asked, feeling stupid.
"Ha!" Matthieu barked, tipping his head down and shaking it slightly with his eyes closed. "No, I'm from Ontario. But my family is originally from Annecy." He said, seeing the blank face on the fox. He didn't expect him to know where that was. "It's a city in France. Near the mountains. Absolutely beautiful. So is Ontario, when the weather is good." He winked. The subtle gesture made something tickle in Mark's stomach. The accent and the physique of his co-worker was weighing on him. Damn, if only..., he thought to himself.
"Cool. I honestly don't know about that kind of stuff. I had a friend from England. No, Wales...really good artist."
"I paint myself." Matthieu said. Mark had a hard time trying to picture this masculine hound painting anything but walls and ceilings though the accent did give hint at the stereotype of the foreign artistic type. "Mostly portraits, I do it on the side. Not as good as I'd like to be though. What did your friend do?"
_Wow. He's actually opening up to me. And I'm a nobody, this guy's probably traveled the world. What is he doing here in Philadelphia working with people like us? Do I let him know the truth? "_He, um...did tattoos and well...street art..but it was good. He didn't do anything illegal, no bad graffiti, some of it actually ended up in a book about stuff like that." Mark admitted. He was already embarrassed that he had implied any connection to gangs.
"Yeah, Jack said you hung out with some interesting people." Matthieu said unexpectedly, "He lost a pup in a shooting years ago and doesn't care for that kind of thing." He paused, approaching Mark slowly. "Just between you and me, I know exactly what it's like. I used to hang out with a bad crowd before I moved here." He seemed for a moment to add more but turned towards the clock. "Damn, I forgot to punch out for lunch. Just a moment. Let me show you how the time clock works."
Trying not to notice he had hit a nerve somewhere, Mark followed him to the back of the room.
"You probably don't have a card yet." He said matter of fact. "But when you get one you will slide it like this." He gestured with the card in hand. "When it turns green you press this key here..."
Mark stepped closer to see where he was pointing. He was so close to Matthieu he could pick up the scent of his musk under his arm as he peered over the shoulder. It was distracting. "Ok. Got it."
"And then when it flashes a couple of times it will print the time here. You do this for every break, in and out, and lunch time. Also when you come in and leave for the workday." For a moment, it seemed that the shepherd had paused and tilted his head slightly, either uncomfortable with Mark's closeness or intrigued by it. His soft brown eyes were hard to read.
"What happens if I don't punch it right? Or at the wrong time?"
"Then the boss chews your ass." He looked real serious for a moment. Then his eyes seemed to lower.
"Um..." Mark said nervously.
There was a moment of silence until Matthieu's eyes widened and he smiled a big toothy fanged grin. "I'm just giving you hell man. Don't make a habit of it but the machine is a little screwy. We take it to every site and its been particularly a bitch recently. Like my ex b...girlfriend." That was followed with a little giggle. The word girlfriend had seemed to start differently, which made Mark feel very weird.
It was getting terribly hot in the storage building, and a bead of sweet tricked down Mark's back, damping his fur. Matthieu came close to him and pointed with his paw at Mark's upper arm.
"Nice tribal tattoo. Did your friend do that for you?"
"He drew it, but I had someone make it for me when he died." Mark said, almost quietly. "I hate talking about it honestly, I should have mentioned that earlier."
"No, its ok. I think its beautiful. I understand. It sounds like we both came from fucked up." The shepherd said, unconsciously tracing the edge of the tattoo with his paw. This was done in a way that was more gentle than just two guys admiring their body art at a distance. Mark was being touched by him. It was awkward for them both since guys did not do that kind of thing. At least it was awkward for the troubled fox who had butterflies filling his stomach.
"Um. Thank you." He said, not knowing what to do. Is this guy coming on to me? With everyone just outside the door? What the hell? I've messed around with dudes before..but..damn...he's still stroking my fucking tattoo. If I pull away he might get pissed. If I let him keep it up or start touching him back he might think I'm a gay dog. What the hell do I do?
The mood in the heated metal room changed in that moment. Matthieu looked at the fox in the eyes, his own deep brown eyes squinting either in discomfort, or was it interest. Mark wasn't sure what to do.
The shepherd looked over Mark's shoulder towards the main door, then back at the clock. He was ever so slightly panting just a little. Mark could feel his own pulse quickening and the discomfort in his jeans was now becomming a fully swelling member. He could feel it sliding naturally out of its sheath, the head rubbing against his boxers as a reminder of his unrelieved sexual tension earlier that morning. Regardless of what the dog's intentions were, he was getting harder and harder, and if Matthieu looked he would see the bulge. Mark was, for a fox his size, unexpectedly endowed both in thick and length. He also had a rather impressive knot, or so the girls and boys both admitted. The more he thought about his own erection, the harder it got. The throbbing in his jaw and shoulders from earlier had started to go somewhere else. And he's still tracing my fucking tattoo! Now he's pulling up my shirt sleeve to see the whole thing!
"I'm sorry." Matthieu said suddenly, breaking the moment of ambiguous tension with a blunt axe. "Please don't tell the boss. I..." Despite his size and musculature, the hyper masculine French-Canadian hound was looking like a scared boy. His eyes were wide with terror and embarrassment. Mark's own natural glance noticed the bulge in the other dog's pants. The shape was surprisingly defined through the material.
"Um..it's..no..it's ok man." Mark found himself saying sheepishly. "It's okay if you are..um...damn..gay?" He finished with a questioning tone. "My friend that died was too. Shit..I mean..if you aren't gay..I didn't mean to..I mean, he and I used to..um..."
Matthieu's eyes seemed to soften a bit and his tongue was slipping through his grit teeth in his muzzle. He was trembling, which Mark could still feel because the paw had not left his upper arm. "We got fifteen minutes." he said hoarsely, which was actually turning Mark on again after his boner had been shot with the interruption earlier. His grasp suddenly tightening he was beginning to pull the confused fox towards a space behind a shelf just to the side of the time clock. Mark could not believe he was actually allowing it to happen. All he could think about was the now painful swelling in his cock and his need to touch this beautiful dog and forget about Rocky, the job, Mr. Horace, his screaming Aunt, the pain in his jaw and shoulders, and those thugs who were going to kill him if they found him. He needed to feel free. Free to be himself, free to enjoy sex. Free to enjoy being happy and feeling wanted. Matthieu answered his silent hours of prayer and crying with a close and deep kiss that seemed to last for an eternity behind the shelf of metal parts and lumber. The scent of sawdust and steel, of oil, and sweat, and musk, and his own body deodorant...of the sweet smell of cologne on the shepherd that was filling his nostrils with the same force as the tongue that was forcing its way into his maw. Their fangs clicked against each other, their noses pressed and their muzzles pressed firmly as the wet swallowing kiss exploded his mind and chest into a world of possibilities.
"Oh my god. You're so fucking hot. I wanted to tell you that the moment you came into Jack's office."
"Me too Mark. You're beautiful." Matthieu said while trying to force more kisses. The two were grinding on each other back and forth up against the metal wall. It was beginning to clang.
Reaching down into his pants, Matthieu slipped out his massive head and ran his finger along the tip. He reached upward and rubbed some on Mark's lips. There was no discomfort with the gesture. In fact the fox licked it happily and locked eyes with the shepherd. "I want to taste more. Can I?" he asked, giving in to his own lustful heat, having almost forgotten he was on the job and there were people just outside the door.
Matthieu didn't answer back, he just simply pushed gently behind Mark's pointed ears, motioning for him to get down and swallow his meat. The fox complied wantingly and knelt down on his knees, undoing his own pants and began stroking himself while massaging Matthieu's knot as his mouth closed in around the red-pink mass that was oozing juice from its tip.
Matthieu began thrusting, and Mark, though not fully comfortable with his own sexuality, was not inexperienced in the act and relaxed his jaws and head accordingly. The harder he suckled and ran his tongue around the shaft, the faster the shepherd pumped into the fox's throat. Before he could stop himself, he tried to gurgle out that he was about to cum when his cock shot its load on the ground, spilling on the thick worn tips of Matthieu's work boots and across the lower legs of his jeans. As Mark gasped from his orgasm, he had barely had time to think when Matthieu groaned deeply with even a slight hint of a whimper and swelled up in the fox's mouth filling him with warm salty cum which was already spurting and seeping out around Mark's jaws. He didn't care about their soreness, or the soreness in his shoulders that was aggrevated from tensing up to blow his own load. All he wanted was to be used and be wanted by this stranger.
Matthieu slid down the wall to come down to Mark's level. They were both on their knees now and panting heavily. Mark reached out to stroke the still fully hard cock in his paw when the door suddenly came open and someone walked in. The two looked through the least filled shelf to see who it was. It was Jack. He seemed to not notice at first that they were in there as both had went almost rigidly silent. Mark looked up and saw Matthieu lock eyes with him saying with a silent motion of his mouth, "Shit." as his eyes darted in the direction of the sound. Jack looked around for a bit, and then stepped back out closing the door. The two of them both started giggling and Matthieu took the moment of Mark trying to get back up to buckle his pants to lick the arm tattoo lovingly. Mark smiled and stroked the back of Matthieu's head.
"Damn." He said, trying to adjust himself. The swelling was going down now. "I nutted all over your boots. Sorry about that."
"No, I kinda liked that. You can do that whenever you want." Matthieu said winking. He stood up as well and fastened his button fly. "We gotta go out the back door over there and just follow my lead. We can't let him know we were in here."
Mark looked down as his friend was talking, and saw the wet puddle of drops on the floor. "What are we going to do about that?"
"Well, I need to teach you how to clean up spills...go over and get that rag. Afterall, it's your first day of training. I have to show you everything that I can."
Mark got his confidence up, knowing in this unexpected change of events he could be honest with Matthieu and be himself around the shepherd. "Maybe tonight you can show me everything?"
To be continued....
I could draw this scene out but would rather someone else take a go. I'll pay handsomely (: