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The lonely Husky

"Yeah....Yeah... No I understand, you gotta do, what you gotta do, honey. Yes. Yes, I can guess that the hospital is completely bonkers at the moment. Yes, love you too babe." Roger hung up the phone and placed his hand over his eyes, sighing softly. Of course he knew that his wife had mad work hours. He had known that since they had first met. But sometimes... sometimes he really wished, that she had decided on a different job. Especially in times like this, when he hadn't seen his wife for thirteen weeks due to the pandemic outbreak.

There were soft padding steps behind him. He didn't even have to turn his head to know exactly what was going on. Even before the soft voice asked "Is mommy coming home soon?", he already had locked up his feelings and plastered a cheerful smile on his snout.

"No, but what do you say to a bowl of ice cream? Come on, last one on the freezer has to wash the dishes!" Three giggling Husky-Weimaraner mixes toddled off, plushies and dolls clutched to their slender frames as they were chased toward the kitchen by the growling and howling daddy-monster, which advanced in large, grasping straps, claws extended. The shaggy, thick husky-coat always served him well, when he did his wolf-impersonations and he raised his hands cartoon fashion, as he chased his triplets in the direction of the kitchen, giving his best impression of Wile E. Coyote.

"She is still not coming back?"

The tone of the voice was frosty enough to ruffle even Roger's thick winter coat and freeze him solid mid-chase. "Sorry Darling. They need every paw they can get. She has to help." As he said it, he realized, how many times he had used this phrase to ease down on the flames of their eldest daughter. Legally she was of age, but she had hit puberty late in life and was still raging with teenage hormones. A late-bloomer, but sometimes it seemed to have hit her harder, because of the lateness of the onslaught of hormones, making her mood-swings sometimes harder to suffer. Mind-reading on full blow, he already saw the answer on his daughter's gray and black face before she had even drawn breath.

"It's not fair!"

Yup, there it was. The predictable answer. He could have made a career as a medium or something.

"I know there are patients and things, but there always are! And they have other people you know? What about us?" Her hormones now completely bubbling over, she started yelling and tears began to well up in her eyes. The slender frame she had clearly inherited from her mother, started trembling with disappointed anger. She especially had had to suffer the neglect of a mother, who almost always put her job before her family. "There are more people for those patients. There is only one Mom. What about us?" By now her fists were clenched and she was shaking with open rage. "What about me? Those patients need her, but I need her too. I have the need to see her, I have the need to hug her, to talk to her, to..." she broke off, tears now tears cascading down her cheeks in thick, dark rivers. "I have needs too, you know?"

Roger sighed. He couldn't blame her for her feelings. Why should he? It was perfectly understandable. He was feeling the same helplessness and the same disappointment. It came often enough. "I have needs too", he muttered, more to himself, than to his eldest.

By now no longer choking down the sobs, Freya was almost screaming. "She is abandoning us!"

"No, Darling, please..." White hands lifted in a soothing gesture, Roger stepped closer, beseeching his furious firstborn. "Come on, you know that its not true. And besides, I'm here too. I am here for you, you just have to tell me, all right? I am doing my best, just talk to me. I can help you. I am here for you, always. Just tell me what is bothering you and I will do my best to help. Please."

There was a moment of hope, where Freya looked at him. Suddenly she turned back into the wide-eyed puppy she had been, oh so many years ago. The same graceful, gray and black furred little thing she had been, when she was five and had begged him for a kiss on her aching finger, to make the pain go away.

But an urgent pulling on Roger's fur, just above his slightly bent knee, distracted him and his eldest from the moment of possible peace.

"Daddy", Marie muttered around the thumb in her snout. "Ice Cueam."

Two more large pawed toddlers waddled in, both of them decidedly taller than runty little Marie. "Daddy!", they called, oblivious to the mood. "Daddy, Ice cream!"

Roger bent down to swoop Marie into his arms and looked up. Just in time to catch Freya glaring at him. "You can't", he heard her saying. "You're busy." And she stormed off, upstairs, slamming the door hard enough to cause the windows to vibrate.

Nighttime - Monica

"What a day", Roger muttered as he flicked the light switch in his and Stephanie's bedroom, plunging the room into a semi-darkness. He felt like he had just pulled a sleigh from Naukan in Russia all the way to Nome in Alaska all by himself. Including the minor little swim through the sea that separated the two countries.

With all the liquid fluidity of a melting Canine, he flopped on the bed, causing a muffled, high-pitched squeal. He grunted, dug his right hand under his belly and came back with a squeaky toy that one of the triplets had deposited there. It was slowly inflating, creating a pained little wail. He flicked it into the corner, banishing the continuous intake of squeaky air by simply pressing his fuzzy black and white ears downward against his head.

For several minutes he lay there, trying to sleep. But despite the fact that he was dead-tired and knew, that he would be lucky to catch his four and a half hours of sleep - if the little monsters would allow that - he couldn't fall into his usual nighttime coma.

With a grunt, he rolled himself over, staring at the twilight ceiling. If he had not been a father of four, he probably would have tried having a wank now. But with so many children in the house that was not really something you could do, when any of them could come bursting in at any moment. Especially since all of them were canines and had good ears and even better noses.

Then again... they were all in bed now. If he ever could get an opportunity, this might be it.

For a moment he pondered if he should try it, or if he was too weary to invest the energy. After all, his limbs were so leaden, he probably would not have been able to pass through a metal detector. Does lead even show up on a detector?, he mused, his half-crazed, dead-tired mind clinging to details in the haze while he continued to stare at the ceiling. Still not quite certain what he should do, he let his paws wander toward his cell phone and searched on the internet. For the answer to the question, for porn, for horribly filthy garbage, for videos that showed the grass grow. Anything to calm his mind down and allow him to slip into the restful coma he needed.

There were certain porn sites that he had frequented before he had had kids. More often than not, he and Stephanie had watched porn together to get inspired, then had decided to re-enact what they had seen and had furious sex on the kitchen table. Or in the closet or the shower...

There was a faint stirring from his loins. Nothing more than a slight increase of blood pressure and still way too weak to do anything with it. But he felt himself sigh in forlorn longing as he remembered how wonderful it had felt to breed his wife shamelessly over the counter in the kitchen. Then step over and lean on the kitchen isle as his dick continued to blast out fertile seed into the still tightly knotted hole that was pulsating and throbbing around him.

His eyes wandered over the illuminated pictures on the phone where a beautiful tiny white feral poodle with one of those fussy haircuts was getting bred by a doberman. Several of the pictures were freeze frames from a video and he could see the little poodle dangle from the knot of the fierce dobie. A little further down was yet another video where the same little dog had been tied to a breeding rack while a Neapolitan Mastiff was ravaging her snout and a Pitbull was plowing her pussy.

Grunting, Roger flicked his thumb up and scrolled further down to full feral videos. There was a Shepherd banging a Whippet, an Afghan being fucked by a Rottweiler and even a Dachshund that was being held up to the enormous, sopping pussy of a befuddled looking Great Dane. Probably she was wondering, what that teeny, tiny twitching dick was doing inside her vast pussy. And probably she would be even more puzzled, when she found out that she was pregnant, only a little later. Possibly, without ever having managed to feel that dick properly, due to the enormous size difference.

No.

He searched on, lazily flicking through the pictures and videos, more interested than he initially would have guessed. Several pictures sparked his libido, but nothing really motivated him to do the leap and have the wank. Suddenly he struck gold:

There was a gray furred Weimaraner anthro female, a large black dog-shaped latex mask obstructing her face. She was on hands and knees and shackled to a breeding rack. Someone had wrapped the tip of her tail in band-aid and had tied it to her left side, exposing her dripping pussy. She reminded him a little of his wife.

"Oh... Well what do we have here? 'Monica likes big dogs'?"

Sitting up a bit more neatly, Roger was about to click on the video, when his gaze flew to the screen mounted on the wall. He could watch it there in large, Ultra HD and see the juices flow properly. However... The cautious nature of his fatherhood peeked its nose into his behavior, even when he was dead tired and by now a little horny. He flicked off the Bluetooth of the phone, preventing it from casting it on the big screen and instead, plugged in the cable of the headphones.

Satisfied, he settled back, squeezed the little speakers into his ears, and started watching.

"Monica here is a greedy little bitch", a male voice narrated from the off. "She has been wagging her tail and begging her master for a fuck all day long."

The camera moved around the perfect figure of the slender canine. A fluffy white hand ran over the pert ass and followed its contours. Strong fingers squeezed the taut flesh and pulled it apart a little. "Look at that", the speaker muttered in a soft, breathy whisper, as one hand cupped the already swollen pussy of the kneeling canine and moved it around like a jewel. "Look how far she is gone. She has received a hormone injection earlier. And look how beautiful she is. All swollen and wet. Look at those drops of juice."

A casual, clawed thumb pressed down on the spade, drawing an intake of breath from the female. Moisture shimmered already around the slit and even more appeared, now that the sensitive area was stimulated.

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end of sample

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