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Son of the Beach

When Dexter went to the waterfalls a few days ago, as part of his Asian and eventual Oceanian trekking, he mocked the idea of people going to plain boring beaches and enjoying themselves with a cold glass of pina coladas. Or how that song went. Now it taunted him as he was somewhere near Fiji, going to a nearly inhabited island to 'relax'. In his own personal way that people rarely would. A 'self-indulging fantasy' as he would put it. Though unlike the shady jungles he took to get to the waterfalls, the skies were clear with the sun beating down on his black wolf fur.

The poor 'ol wolf was wrapped in beach towels he brought himself, chugging down his second bottle of water already lukewarm from being out in the sun for too long. He had a cooler with him at the front of the motor boat but he could hear the water slosh around with the shrinking ice, and he only had a few bottles of water left then. Maybe he should've brought the casual clothing he wore when roaming about in the Middle East. It was hotter there but at least some had air conditioning.

"Don't think about work, Dex," he thought to himself as such thoughts tucked themselves away. He went out to Fiji to wind down. Appreciate the very blue waters, the salty ocean smell, and the distant sound of seagulls cawing loud. He turned to see a flock of them fly in a v-formation, smiling at their peace. Yet he envied how these animals never had to worry about such things. Alas, it was his responsibility. Enough about that though.

The Fijian who he rented the boat from said that the island was forty five minutes due south, and he had been going for about thirty. He could see the makings of several trees just over the horizon, or maybe it could be bright green seaweed floating about in the open water. Coconuts don't float on water though, do they? As he got closer, the rest of the island came into view. White sands surrounded by clear blue water. There were more trees at the farther beachside, and a lot of other low-lying tropical plants towards his end.

"Nearly inhabited, eh?" He recalled what the local mentioned. There would be a small hut made from a few trees, and a hammock made of fishing nets. True enough these mentioned amenities were there, even the few trunks that had been cut were sprouting.

With the island in view, Dexter disrobed and changed to something more tropical. First, as always, he admired his own body first. White fur on his body where his abs were with black paws tracing over it.

"Sexy Dexy," he muttered under his breath. A fun nickname he introduced during his waterfall fun.

His head peeked over the boat, but alas with the motions he could only see the distorted waves of his handsome face. The water was very blue and clean though, clear as the skies above. All that lacked was himself. Shorts came off next, revealing a massive yet soft bulge on his sweat-drenched tighty-whities. It was transparent enough to see his black cock clinging onto the fabric, even twitching as he admired it. His paw went over, squeezing its length that throbbed in his grasp. For a quick moment, he caught a glimpse that he was in a strip-club where an audience consisting of himself chanted his name.

"I'll save that for later," Dexter shook himself out of his trance, and slid out of his undies. The breeze of wind blew against his naked body, which he closed his eyes for a moment of peace. Yet it carried the scent of his musk, and his shaft then was standing half-mast. Something he wanted inadvertently, as he retrieved a pair of bright red speedos from his bag. He puts it on with his dick tucked to the side of his right thigh, a very notable bulge with its girth peeking out from its leg holes.

He slowed the boat when his waist would be above the water, stopping it as the tide disappeared into the sand. The wolf stepped off and into the soft sand. Warm, coarse, getting between his fur. It was comforting compared to when it would find itself in his combat boots. That aside, he beached the boat and leashed it to a tree in case the evening tides would reach farther inland. That explained why the nearby hut was built on stilts. For a day or two it would serve as his home, and aside from the coconuts he saw from afar, there were green bananas. Who knows what else he'd find. First though, he needed to settle down. Getting the bag from the boat, as well as the stack of towels.

One step forward though and he felt something rough buried underneath. Not too big that his toes were able to pick it up; it was a white seashell that had a pink pearlescent inside.

"Woah," Dexter crouched down and patted the bits of sand off. There was nothing inside it, half expecting a pearl. Unsure then if these had pearls in the first place. Nonetheless he placed it beside his head, recalling the old saying that you would hear the sea when you listened into it. Hard to say though since he was already in the ocean, which is a larger sea in comparison.

It would be a good souvenir though. He went over towards the water and washed it before wrapping it in a towel and stowing it in his backpack. His eyes were much more attentive now, moving along the sand and trying to spot anything underneath like they were landmines. Last thing he would want was a crab pinching his toes, or worse, a lobster. Finding one might actually be a good thing. Take it back to Fiji's main islands and have someone cook it for lunch or dinner, serve it with some butter sauce. All he had for tonight were MRE's, a significantly worse option.

The hut was crudely made, keeping to the lone-island commoner aesthetic. Held together with torn banana leaves and some tree fibers too twined together like rope. Dexter recalled a few survival pointers when he cross-trained with a few Asian soldiers about trying to survive in the jungle. One of the things they taught was using bamboo as a makeshift pan where you put it over the fire and it will cook the food inside without burning it. Or using a rock to open coconuts, which he wanted to try if he could find any large boulders around. He placed his bag inside, and cautiously sat down as he was unsure if the hut would hold.

The feel of refined wood felt comfy for his rear. Very precise and tactile craftsmanship, his fingers brushed over them. Even lying down slowly, still worried if it'll give in, and used the backpack as his pillow. Sure it wasn't a mattress, but this was fairly decent. He'd sleep here if not the hammock.

A few moments passed, thinking about how long he'd have to stay. His contact would give him a partial refund if he went home a day early. Plus being this far from civilization already made him miss it. However, being this isolated gave him an opportunity to indulge himself. Dexter sat back up and got something out of his backpack. A small neon purple rectangular device that he bought right before he left Canada. In fact, he bought it at the airport just minutes before boarding. Advertised as a camera that could capture the moment underwater, which he forgot to use during the waterfall trip. Not this time though.

*Click*

He took a landscape photo of the scenery where the clear blue skies met the water that was just as blue, only distinct by distant green islands. And towards him was the white sandy coast where the waters washed over the occasional seaweed.

Dexter wasn't a photographer but he was satisfied with these amateur nature shots. The next set was far better though, aiming the camera at himself. Walking on the beach where he tried to get the lens to capture his entire physique, and stopping and standing where the tide ended. He turned around to make sure the lower background captured more of the water.

*Click* *Click* Click*

"Fantastic, Sexy Dexy," he told himself. Trying not to gloat but these were magazine-worthy shots. 'Sexy Dexy, the Island Hopping Stud', or a better one: 'Sexy Dexy, a mean Son of the Beach'. Yeha, that was a good one.

*Click*

The next shot was the big bad wolf showing his massive gun down there; his big black shaft flopped out of his speedo. And he swings it around along with his hips, giggling at the thought of doing it in front of a mirror. With waters so clear, it reflected his physique. Walking over towards the coast where the bit of ocean beneath him reflected all of his glory. The waves were smooth enough that his image was not broken.

He looked down upon him, and he imagined his mouth moving to speak with him, "I prefer this over the waterfalls. Solely because you've taken pics of yourself, stud."

"That's true," he conversed with him. "And I have a few more ideas for our little photoshoot."

Inspired by the surroundings, Dexter ventured further until the water was at his waist, while his speedo was pulled down to his thighs. He lowered himself, floating on the water. For a moment, there were only the waves, reveling in the calm. Even his inner selves were at peace, sighing contently inside his head.

"I could get used to this," he told himself. His tail wagged towards the water to not drift further.

After sunbathing for about half an hour, he reviewed the shots on his camera first before moving onto the next set of shots. This idea was far more erotic, and fit the environment he was in; his lower body was submerged into the water whereas his flaccid dick stuck out like a periscope. His initial thought was that of a shark, because it was curved. Only for him to get erect the more he thought about it, thus becoming a periscope instead.

*Click* *Click* Click*

He reviewed the images, loving every single one of it. As much as he wanted to get off there, there were other parts of the island he didn't check. Even a mistake that he made, immediately getting into eroticism without ensuring he was alone. Dexter went back to shore, his shaft bulging into the sides of his tight speedo. Adjusting them as he walked, making sure his plump nuts wouldn't droop out.

The terrain here was easier to get around since it was mostly sand, surrounding a few acres of dirt where the trees could grow. Plenty of them towered over, almost as tall as lamp posts, with fruits instead of lighting fixtures. From afar he couldn't see that some of these palm trees grew other kinds of fruit. Some that he hadn't even seen. He knew of papaya, orange-green and somewhat soft exterior. But another was a fruit that looked like pink thick flower petals with green tips wrapping into itself. Eventually he would come to learn that these were dragon fruits. There were tens of these trees with low-lying brushes growing aside, and it was enough to be shady throughout the day, but not enough to hide anyone in the shadows. At least that meant that there was no one here hiding. He then snuck in a few photos of his dick being shone in by the light, and how his sweaty cock glistened in the dark.

*Click* *Click*

There weren't any indications of wildlife being present here, other than a few feathers around. Which meant birds used this place to rest and nest, yet he hadn't heard a chirp or a squawk other than those beyond the island. Dexter wanted to take photos of them only for him to remember that his camera was waterproof. Maybe he'd fancy a swim when he reached the other side of the island as he could already see the other side's shore. No different than where he docked except for the lack of a house.

Out onto the clear, with his dick now tucked back into the front of his speedo. Another difference here was the lack of islands in the distance. Only a horizon where clouds emerged where the skies and water meet. He pointed far, amazed that he could see this much water in a place. He went over to the beach again, this time walking further until he lunged body first into the water and started swimming. Dexter submerged himself, still mere inches from the sand, and kept going far enough where standing would have his head above water.

The beauty that blue water hides was far more than he thought.

*Click* *Click* *Click* *Click*

There were blue and purple coral reefs with small schools of fishes resting inside. It was contrasted by the dark green seaweed standing firm in the sand. And he could see more abandoned seashells, and even one where a hermit crab was in the process of inhabiting it itself. *Click*

He went upwards and gasped for air before returning and continuing to observe the crab go into its shell. Slow, and making sure its new home was enough for it to sustain and move around. Just like how people do it, which was cool to know about. Dexter thought of swimming around the island to where he settled. All he had to do was follow the shore. As he did, he looked away from the island and saw more details of an underwater biome, where more wildlife like starfishes, crabs, and shrimp swam about and gave life to the ecosystem. He took more photos of them, and even a curious fish swam around him. The thin fellow was as tall as his hand, and it had red and white stripes on its body, while its face was yellow. Both its fins and tails were too small for the proportion of its body, yet it moved fast around him.

He reached out to try and touch it only for it to avoid his finger. Also realized that fishes, especially the prey-like ones, were very shy. Swimming though seemed to attract them. A lot more with different color schemes and patterns. Some had stripes of black and white, others were red and yellow, and they were either horizontal or vertical. One had spots, and another was a small squid. Swimming together with them felt like a school in their own right, with Dexter being the big black wolf surrounded by a variety of colors.

They stayed well beside him, attracting more as he swam for several minutes, with a few resurfaces to catch air and to know how close he was. After three move resurfaces, he saw the boat and had to bid farewell to them as he swam closer towards the shore. His escort turned away when his body was inches from the sand, but he was able to turn and take several photos of their accompaniment. The backdrop wasn't as impressive as it was more seaweed than coral reefs.

Dexter stepped out of the water and felt seaweed stuck to his shoulder. Curious, he fanned the ocean-vegetable and took a bite out of it, spitting moments after as it was too salty. "Bleugh, no wonder these things are fried first." And tossed it towards the line of trees where it would become fertilizer. Or that's how he thought it worked.

Swimming wasn't too exhaustive but it was far better than jogging. His fur was heavy though, sopping wet. The wolf shook himself off the moisture, and smoothened down the fur with his paws. It was perfect where his black hair shone under the sun, and he immediately went through the camera's settings to immediately capture such a moment.

First he took self portraits but it didn't bring out the shine that he wanted. It needed to be from a distance where it just so happened there were beachside boulders that had a flat enough surface for his camera to stand on. Upon going there, he configured the timer and how many shots it would take, setting it for three shots at five second intervals. At how bright it still was, the flash was automatically turned off as it always had been.

Next step was setting up the camera's position. It was tall enough to capture everything about his trip; the hut, the beach, his glistening bod, and the bulge in his speedo. Black, white, and red- his personal color motif. And he remembered a clothing article that would bring out the red of his eyes. A neckerchief.

He ran back to his bag imagining he was those muscle jock lifeguards running across the beach to save a damsel in distress. The one in distress was his lacking fashion sense that was pocketed away inside his pack. He tied it around his neck, between the fluff of his neck and chest, smiling at the fact that it helped bring out the color of his eyes. And he ran back to the camera, this time the would-be damsel was his personal image.

Dexter double checked if everything was in place: the beach tides were low enough, hut and hammock in the background, and his sexy body was ready. And he triple checked it, making sure the camera would take three different shots, each having its own pose that he thought on the spot. The timer was then set to take pictures in thirty seconds, and this time he rushed to a spot in between his humble abode and the device.

First pose was standing up, with his right arm facing and flexing at the camera. Tail and a brow raised, showing the side of his white fangs. His hard-earned muscles throbbed, and he imagined the camera had a photographer behind it, winking before it took the first photo.

Dexter kneeled for the next one, with his hands clasped behind as he put his abs on the limelight. White fur molding into sexy muscle, while his tail wagged to the side. Both eyes were on the imaginary photographer who resembled himself, of course, and he looked at him with bedroom eyes. Letting out a growl as he got his second photo taken.

And lastly, he laid on his right side and rested his cheek on a raised knuckle. His tail laid itself over his left thigh as he posed not to a photographer anymore, but a renaissance painter who wanted to capture the essence of a sexy and attractive stud such as he. He knew for a fact that these people who got painted were in the nude, and perhaps he should take some shots in it as well. Glistening body with his black cock out and hard. It got his tail wagging, brushing over his thigh, and he heard a click only to feel his cock slip out and erect moments after with its tip kissing his lower thigh.

His inner voice whispered, "You know you want to, Dexter." He imagined another him crouching beside. The other's cock was as large as his, with musk just as strong. Yet the source of it permeated from his cock standing tall.

The real Dexter laid down on the sand and pulled down his speedo past his feet, and wrung it beside his neckerchief. Only serving to heighten his libido as he caught a whiff of his salty scent. And in his mind, it's as if his imaginary self had rested his cock in front of his muzzle. Dark, throbbing, and a mix of sweat and saltwater coating it, glistening like his hot bod.

"Come on, so you can get cum on," he taunted.

Dexter played it out with his mind; licking his tip as his fingers smeared pre over his own dick. And he kissed the doppelganger's while squeezing his own gently, both of them shuddering in pleasure, feeling it go to their legs.

The other Dexter sat down, "Good stuff. Keep going, stud."

And so he obliged himself, suckling him off at the same pace he started jerking his own shaft. His own taste was saltier than back at the waterfalls, and it throbbed more in his mouth as his lips went over the moist sensitive flesh. His drool slobbered the doppelganger's entire length, all nine inches, while his own was covered in pre.

"That's my Sexy Dexy alright," his doppelganger muttered under his breath similar sentiments of the head he'd been getting. Dexter loved the praise for that, as well as having his muzzle touch the tips of his partner's crotchfur. He moaned out, rubbing the back of Dexter's head.

Dexter rubbed the back of his own head while he kept jerking himself off at the thought that another him was indulging in his massive cock. It throbbed in an imaginary mouth, having a pseudo-sensation of its base being licked, and slathered in saliva as its tongue swirled around his sensitive tip. He let out a loud moan, echoing into the horizon regardless if any passing boat would hear.

The pretense of doppelgangers left him as he laid himself down, both hands holding his dick tightly as he started thrusting into the air. His mind harked back to the imaginary orgy he had back at the waterfalls, how his mouth and hole were fucked by the only person he truly loved today. Him.

Dexter felt himself close, kneeling down as the pressure rushed towards his tip. "Cumming!" He yelled out, his manly voice echoing past the waters as cum stained the sands in front of him. Shot after shot of thick wolf milk kept reaching further while pleasure coursed through his body, quivering his joints as he spread his legs and relaxed his muscles. His moan was like a howl as his balls were spent for now. By no means was he out, his bountiful seed would be the envy of more men, all incomparable to the man he would always see on any mirror.

The wolf panted, exhausted from his erotic session. He picked himself up and went over to the hut. That was a good time he had, indicated by his wobbly legs that no training in the world could ever match. Hopefully nature could take care of the mess he left. He even left the camera but who'd go all this far to steal it anyways? As he laid down, maybe he should take more sexy shots of himself. With the musk of his speedo still wafting, he'll do something with it later. Not wanting to sleep, inhaling his essence, because too much of it wasn't pleasant, he kept it beside his waist and napped in the nude.

Dexter opened his eyes to the sun about to kiss the horizon. A slight panic settled within him as he had about an hour to get all those shots with a golden backdrop. He realized that his mouth was dry and took a quick gulp of water. And he noticed that the tides were higher now, and ascertained that his mess had been washed away too. He took his speedo with him and went over to the camera to change its settings. This time he wanted to capture his tensest and passionate moments. There was still enough space for a few thousand photos, equivalent to two hours worth of videos.

The recording started.

He thought about what he was about to do, and swayed his hips to let his dick swing around as well. There was another wave of desire within him ready for release, and he ought to do it with his speedo this time. Something he ought to try out as the texture of his speedo was soft and synthetic, in a manner that felt comfortable to press on. His cock twitched, and he tried the idea by pressing the nylon against his eagerness. It erected itself post haste and already dripped pre. His toes curled in the sand as he started rubbing himself off, the build-up of pleasure from between his legs now washed over his body. But he remembered to capture it all, so he calmed himself down and went over to his spot earlier, the tide washing over his feet every now and then.

Kneeling not too far from the camera watching his every move, he imagined it was him watching too. A future where he laid down comfily on his bed, jerking off to him on the beach. Back in the present day though, both paws held his dick, thrusting it like he would an asshole, loosening itself. Reminiscing back at the waterfall how tight his own hole was, making him throb and pre to drip down onto the prevailing tide.

"Fuck," he muttered, his entire shaft coated in pre that had a streak of light from the setting sun. His tail wagged side to side as his tongue lulled out, but he wasn't done yet.

Dexter wrapped his speedo around his shaft and resumed his cock massage. It was far better, now that his cock was much more sensitive. The soft fabric felt like tongues as he kept stroking when it absorbed the moisture. He slowed down his pace when he felt like ripping it. The wolf cherished this pair, matching his eyes. It was the reason why he got them, and he felt hard buying it when he saw himself wearing them.

All these pleasant memories as he kept jacking himself off. Dexter already felt himself close again while thrusting into his hands. This time around he wanted to paint himself too.

"Fuck!" He yelled as his balls emptied into his speedo. Cum oozing out of the crotch part, firing his load off into the tide receding back into the rest of the ocean. And he laid on his back as he kept unloading onto himself. Thick strands of his wolf milk disappeared into his white fur but apparent on his muzzle that his dick had shot far enough to reach. He licked around his lips, tasting his exquisite salty essence as his schlong relaxed itself.

Dexter eyed over the camera, still standing. Glad he had gotten his shots. His entire body was warm despite lying down on cool waters. Loudly panting, still moaning in the afterglow of his climax. A shiver delight traveled through his body, followed by a pleasurable tingle as it normally did. His heart thumped against his chest, and his mind could hear the waves, and the sound of himself impressed with his fun.

"Now that's what I call a load, Dexy." His inner thought wolf whistled, "How about you give me some of that when you get home?"

"How about you fuck me instead, hm? Maybe have a toy resembling my dick." He answered.

"Who has the means to remake your monster, hm?"

Dexter glanced at his semi-erection still too large to even put on the creamed speedo resting by his crotch. His inner thought was right. Who could make that monster? He thought, moving his hips side to side and seeing it swing and drip the last few drops of his semen.

"And the best part?" His inner thought said, "You got it all on video this time."

His eyes went to the camera still recording him, the rest of his face lighting up at the vanity playing through his head. Smirking, he stood up and walked over to the camera with cum-stained speedo in hand, making sure his load didn't seep out. After a few adjustments, it was back to taking photos at intervals. This time it would do it constantly, capturing moments every fifteen seconds.

This time it captured him walking back towards his spot, followed by sniffing his sauced speedo; musky and strong it made his dick bounce up again. And the next snapshot was him putting his right leg on the other hole about to tug it up. Afterwards it was tugging it around his hem where the tip of his dick peeked out.

The sensation of his nuts covered in its own sticky milk was blissful, and he massaged the damp spot of his speedo. His tip leaked pre, oozing down into his speedo. Dexter then took poses with the dried cum stains causing slight discoloration of his fur. Cum oozed between his legs as it dribbled down from his speedo's leg holes. It was insanely hot. He felt hot posing in front of the camera too.

A few of the captured shots depicted Dexter tracing his fingers along the cumstains of his white fur. Another was his dick covered in his semen, poking out of a leghole while thrusting the air. And his personal favorite was laying down on the sand, tail wagging, with his speedo aside showing the messy taint and tight pink hole while winking for the camera.

The following series was more so laying down on the sand, posing like he did earlier. He likened himself to a magazine model, or maybe one for a porno. Emphasizing his dick, toying with it and having it point up. The cover would have his name plastered all over, the following pages are transcripts of interviews around him. And some others in between them would be details about his dick's size and girth. And he'd have at least two copies of that magazine.

Lastly were candid shots of Dexter sitting by the sand, the tide washing his nether regions, as he watched the sun set. Peaceful and calming as the dark waters would come to reflect the starry night and its full moon. His body felt a different build up, something far better than getting off to himself. Clenching his fists, curling his arms as he leaned his head back.

"Awhhhwooooooo!" Dexter howled out. This photograph had an excellent backdrop; his cock hanging out as he pumped his chest to howl at the full moon with the sun still setting. For a while he held it, and silence after. The echoes reached far but no one answered his call. Dexter took a few more photos, using the waning light before the camera captured his approach to it and to end the series of photographs.

His body felt invigorated from all that. Walking over to the hut and using a torch lamp to illuminate his dinner. An MRE chicken stew. It wasn't bad, but nothing could beat fresh fruit. He'd pick some tomorrow before leaving. Laying himself down on the hammock, swinging back and forth as he gazed upon the moon.

Dexter, with camera in hand, took a photo of the full moon, surrounded by more twinkling stars than being in Canada.

Years later...

Dexter placed a box full of photos on his bed that was confronted by a standing mirror. He was naked, with a few more scars under his fur. More muscle to him, and with the surroundings of a decent bedroom. An officer's privilege after all.

His dick stood at attention as he went from one photo to the other. At the bottom of the box was the very same camera that captured all of it, though slightly discolored from aging. The camera's battery and its charger still worked, and he recharged it on an outlet on the bedside cabinet, while he laid down with the box beside him.

Dexter started working himself up, glancing at his stud self on the mirror and back to the images on his other hand. He recalled the sand, the beach, and the beautiful swimming session he had. Of course being alone with his cock out to feel the breeze. His own shaft throbbed at the thought of seeing his reflection on the water. That beach body of his, and all he had with him was a red speedo and neckerchief. Pre oozed from his tip as he kept going.

The photo in hand was when his body was submerged and his dick a periscope. He found it hot, and it started getting intense down there as he stroked himself faster. And he looked back at the mirror, raising a leg to the side so that his cheeks would be apart enough to show his pink hole. The wolf visually teased himself with his wagging tail hiding it as it swept across the bed.

Then Dexter lurched over to the side and reached under the bed. He did something he told himself he would; another box, metallic and with a keypad found itself on the bed. A few beeps of input code and it unlocked itself, revealing a half-full bottle of lube and a dildo based off his big black dick. The original bounced in excitement, staining the synthetic one inside with pre.

He laid back down with dildo and lube in hand, coating the former with a clear but strawberry-scented fluid. Afterwards, Dexter compared sizes with himself, the cold toy making his dick shudder as he put it beside. Obviously the real one was bigger by a few inches, and he rubs against it as if he was frotting with himself.

It went on for a few moments, slithering down the toy's tip over his taint and kissing into his hole. He breathed in as he prodded, before sliding it in slow and slick, already used to it. Dexter suppressed moaning, covering his mouth as he panted as to not awake any of the other officers. Though he whined after as the heat of his hole being stretched flowed through his body, and his dick oozing more pre. And he started jerking himself off too.

Imagining it was himself, he synchronized pulling his shaft out as his other paw was at the tip, and then stroking down to its base as he inserted back in. He kept pace, increasing the motion as he felt himself loose. His mind not able to tease him as his own dick's sensation was plenty enough for him to handle.

Dexter felt himself close but he didn't want to climax yet. He turned to the camera, half-charged which was enough for him to unplug from its charger and turn on. There were more photos and videos over the course of his trip but given there's a dick in his ass right now, there was only one he wanted to see.

The video played was his time at the beach, naked and jerking himself off. He matched the motions of his hand with Dexter in the camera. Looking at any surface he could find, he quickly closed the dildo's box and placed the camera on top of it as he freed his other hand to thrust with his dildo. All three Dexters were now in sync with their self-indulgence, and the real one glanced at the camera and at his reflection, the latter of which had been taking himself like a pro.

Even though he told himself not to, he moaned lowly each time he thrusted inwards. Especially that he was close, as was the video to climaxing. Dexter glanced at the mirror again, admiring the handsome stud about to climax, his balls bouncing to the motion, and the rim of his tailhole twitching as it tightened itself into his shaft. And his video let out a low-quality noise of him cumming, and that's what sent him off. He shoved the toy deep enough to bump his prostate.

Copious amount of wolf cream fired out of his dick, and reached further enough to hit his face in multiple shots. He opened his mouth and aimed his gun to jizz into it, tasting his own seed in more amounts than he ever did. The succeeding shots fell short, yet plenty enough over his abs. After a minute of twitching and oozing, he looked at his face covered in wolf seed.

Dexter laid back down exhausted. He'll have to clean this up eventually. For now though, he was laying down on the sand relaxing. Missing the days of a proper summer vacation. Maybe on his next leave.

****