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Standard disclaimer:

This is a furry adult story containing gay males in sexual situations as well as explicit language and descriptions. No kids are allowed so this story is only for those who are 18/21 or whatever the age is at your legislation. If you are not of the legal age, you shouldn't view this story because you might lose your innocence. Also, by browsing this story you have done so by your own consent and wish to view such material. if you do not wish to view such material you should leave this site immediately.

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Hello everyone!

Here's the latest smutty installment to my "Bent Over Behind the Barracks" series of Dobie and military themed stories set in 1960's US army base. If you're a new reader, you can catch up on their story from the earlier chapters - fappiness is aplenty!

I want to thank you all for the comments, favs, votes and other attention for this ongoing series!

Also deserving a mention are my fans and commentators, such as the faithful FalconMage, OcelotRevolver, Glyn, RPMS, Andreas Silva and many others! Cheers for everyone for watching and commenting and having a murry time with the Dobies!

Also, I suppose this could be called the late 100-watch special story, because currently I have about 130 watches, so maybe I'm a bit late, but that matters none, hehe ;)

Everyone enjoy, and comment and fav if you enjoyed!

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Author's note:

This song

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ugeztWg-RCI

features on the beginning of the story, so if you're not familiar with the tune, check it out to maximize the fun. It's a legendary song, too ;)

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"Near the village, the peaceful village,

the lion sleeps tonight....

Near the village, the quiet village,

the lion sleeps toniiiiiight "

"AAAAAAAWEEEEEEEEEMBAAAAAAWEEEEEEE-AAAAAAWEEEEEMBAAAAWEEEE-AAAAWEEEEMBAAAWEEEH!"

"Oh shut the hell up Arnett!"

"Aaaaaaa-aaa-aaaaa-aaaaaahhhh!!!" bellowed out the high-pitched feline voice of Private Arnett as he sang along to the big old vacuum tube radio that stood on a shelf at the canteen barracks and was now belting out for God knows for how many times that annoying song that had been going on since last Christmas.

The radio started another round of incomprehensible awembawes and the soldiers sitting at the long table all drummed the tabletop in rhythm to the music with their forks, and knives, making the plates and mugs rattle throughout as the flimsy table was abused.

My ears flattened under the mayhem of noise and I watched my plate of mac and cheese jump and dance on the table from the force of the beating of a number of oversized fists on the table, and I was already starting to worry that the table might collapse upon itself as the surprise participation to the song carried on until a familiar voice cut through the air.

"Hey, watch it, jarheads!" I heard Sergeant Williams yelp from the staff table on the other side of the barracks, and that sharp snap coming from the drill sergeant coyote was enough to return order to the out of control dinner table.

All the soldiers stopped their mischief, and even Private Arnett stopped trying to compete with the radio as the unnaturally high-pitched male voices continued to sing their totally mysterious song. I snuffled with mild amusement at the odd glances we were getting from the other tables and returned to my meal, picking up my fork from where it had gravitated next to my mug of milk during the tablequake and dug back to my mac and cheese.

"Lucky he didn't make us mop the barracks," I heard private Shippy mumble to private Tecker as he chewed on his food, and the pit bull gave him a nudge to his side from his elbow and a grin.

"We are kinda stupid fucks aren't we?" Tecker rumbled back and chuffed throatily.

"And you're the stupidest fuck of 'em all!" a sizeable Doberman private declared and slammed his giant paw against the unsuspecting pit bull's back.

Private Tecker sputtered and spat some nasty-looking bits of mac and cheese over the tabletop, and some almost landed on private Axelson's plate. The bespectacled radio trainee deer looked like he didn't know whether to be angry or just mortified.

I gave Axelson a quick glance and then turned my eyes to the big, roughly laughing Doberman who was currently batting away private Tecker's paws with his beefy arm that acted as a makeshift shield. His overconfident smile leered to anyone who cared to see, and his ears flicked and his eyes shone with pleasure at this game.

Looking at a laughing Brock Stahlman made my belly feel strange and my tail wag.

Everything seemed to be a game for the tall Dobie with a crew cut and a shirt that was definitely too small for him, as displayed by his smirk and a good-natured snicker as he caught private Tecker's paws with his own big ones and pressed them down to the table, smilingly telling the pit bull that he had been had.

"Yeah, give up now, Stahlman," the pit rumbled, ears flat, and let his paws fall limp as if showing submission for Brock, and the big Dobie flashed him another grin and squeezed his wrists before releasing them and returning to his meal.

I couldn't help but watch him, how he dug into the messy macaroni on his metal plate with his fork and brought that portion up to his chewing maw. He had a smudge of ketchup on his lips, and a couple of drops of milk stuck on the little bit of fur between his lip and nosepad.

I had a sudden urge to lick his face clean, and that made my cheeks burn, and something twitched in my tan slacks and that wasn't my tail.

That fucking Dobie held my by my cock, it seemed, and I was willing to follow wherever he was going to guide me. That odd pull I had for the shitfaced dog soldier had already brought me behind the gym at night where Brock rammed his huge cock into my tailhole, and the ache from that reaming had not even gone away fully before our weekend leave when the very same Dobie dominated me completely in a Psycho motel room, even marking me down with his scent.

My ass was still tender now, a week after that leave where I didn't get drunk as planned but did get Brock's stringy cum down my throat, and secretly in my mind I knew I had preferred that sticky taste to that of the beer I didn't drink. I could no longer count the times I'd had Brock cock inside me with the fingers of one paw. That had to mean something, I mean, allowing him to just stick it in like that?

I wasn't queer, I knew I wasn't, I mean, I was a big, real man and not some weird sissy who would invite young fur guys into their apartment and give them booze and money and then fuck them, like they warned on those educational films they used to show at school. I wasn't nothing like those creeps, NOTHING!

So what the hell was going on here? Why did I keep staring at him and imagining tongue bathing his muzzle? Hell, my muzzle had been somewhere else too...lots of elsewheres that weren't really places you were meant to have your muzzle in...and I still knew I wanted to do that again, and plenty more, too.

"Ten minutes, guys, finish up!" I heard Sergeant Williams yell from his place again, and I continued to eat at a slightly faster pace.

That's how the business was always in the army. You went to a place, you had some time to do a thing, then you had to drop whatever you hadn't finished and carry on to your next object. Operation Dinner was underway, followed by Operation Social Hour at the nearby barracks. Then there would be the Operation Shit, Shower and Shave and the day would have its culmination in Operation Sleep Until You Are Woken Up Fucking Early. Everything by the clock and everything by the rules.

There was a general flurry of activity as people started to hog down their mac and cheese in order to have enough time to have their desserts, green Jell-O. It was a pretty fun sight, that, a dozen oversized and super-tough furs getting all excited over such a treat, but I was one of them, and liked how the jiggly sweet flopped from the spoon onto my tongue and then down my gullet.

Surprisingly, we all managed to down our desserts without any more ruckus forming around the rowdy table, and as we were called out to take our trays back, we were a bunch of happy soldier boys, all with wagging tails and swagger to our step. A soldier with a full belly and an hour to spend just as they wished ahead of them was a happy one, though the seemingly order with which we took onto the line to march over to the barracks was only an illusion. I knew that on the inside, everyone was really preparing for the inevitable race for the amusements that would take place as soon as Sergeant Williams called "At ease!"

I wasn't wrong this time either. We had marched into the big open space of the barracks that was called the multipurpose area, officially, and it was filled with tables and chairs and a couple of pool tables, and a ping-pong table, and there was also a black and white TV set and some armchairs at one corner.

The greatest rush took place to all these places mentioned, as I saw our oversized bunch make a run to catch the best seats or the first rights to the pool table. I saw how Shippy elbowed some slighter private off his path in order to jump himself into one of the comfortable armchairs right on front of the television, and there was a similar fight over the pool sticks that involved at least half a dozen soldiers. More minor scuffling took place on the other side of the room where the pay phones were located, and unsurprisingly the nimble-pawed puma private Arnett was already settled inside one of the three cubicles and dialing up a number, likely to one of his many girlfriends, while other lovelorn privates had to stand and wait for their turns.

I chuckled lightly as the chaos subsided and made my own more peaceful way to stand by the television corner. All the seats were by now taken, but there was a bunch of us standing there as well and quite happily peering into the small screen where the Virginian was on, and we were once again one big happy fur family, getting entangled in whatever Wild West plot the television show had come up with.

To be honest, I was only half-watching the television. My eyes kept drifting over to Brock who was also watching, leaning against the backrest of Shippy, armchair, his big arms bulging as they bore the brunt of his weight. I saw veins pop in those big biceps, and my maw felt oddly dry. Brock's posture was relaxed, slightly bent from the waist, but still he managed to look as confident and darkly handsome as ever.

I let my eyes leave the image of a galloping horse and again turned to glance at Brock.

His eyes met mine over the few feet separating us and he winked.

My belly felt like I had just swallowed a whole bottle of Coke in one go and wanted to burp really bad.

I quickly turned my attention back to the television, feeling oddly disinterest even at the fact that the cowboy person I had seen before was now hiding behind some rocks and shooting with his revolver over and over again without reloading. My cheeks burned, and I was sure glad for my dark furs that kept it carefully hidden. I didn't dare to look over at Brock until several minutes later, but this time he had his eyes on to the television, so we didn't meet up, but still, I caught a glimpse of his stern face, and it didn't help my belly situation at all.

I was just about to return to the Western adventure when his eyes were at me again, that same, familiar leer pulling his lips into a smirk as he gave me a look, and then, quickly, tilted his head to his left a couple of times, indicating the door. Was he telling me something?

My looks back at him must have been very puzzled, since he winked again, and repeated his earlier action, that quick tip of his head, before he was staring at the television, and our eye contact was lost.

Feeling my belly go cartwheels, I turned to look at the television. My head felt like a mess. Brock wanted me to go out with him... to God knows where, to do God knows what. Shit...

The picture faded out just as the cowboy on the television seemed to be about to get nailed in the head by a bullet, and instead of the conclusion, the screen was filled by an animated rooster advertising Kellogg's Corn Flakes. Some of the guys around the television laughed, including Brock, who was now stretching and really showing off his body as he put his paws behind his neck and really puffed out his slab of a chest.

"That's boring crap," Brock spoke, and he scratched his belly with that same big paw, and then he even scratched his ass, and flicked his stub of a tail while appearing wholly bored with the television. "I'm gonna get a Coke and get the hell out of here."

He snuffled at the television and strutted over to the colorful vending machine out on one corner of the multipurpose room, fetching a coin from his pocket and flicking it into the machine to produce himself a bottle of the magical nectar. He snapped the bottle open with his fucking TEETH and spat the cap down to the floor before he made his swinging way over to the door and out of the building. I saw him disappear from the beam of light coming from on top of the door, before I realized that I had been staring and quickly turned to the television again that was now showing an ad for a General Electric fridge.

My belly was exploding with butterflies as I counted seconds in my mind, trying to think just how long I should wait before I could follow Brock without it appearing suspicious.

Just why would it appear suspicious? Maybe I was going out to get some fresh air or a smoke, even though I didn't smoke. It's not like anyone would ever think that maybe I was going to follow the Dobie who had been winking at me and probably inviting me to sit on his cock. Fuck knows.

Nobody knows.

Still feeling like every pair of eyes in the room was on me and not concentrated on their various amusements, I crept through the crowded room and exited the building. I drew big lungfuls of cool air and scratched the back of my head and tried to catch a glimpse of Brock, but all I saw was a couple of dark shapes in the distance, adorned by the red glow of what must have been their cigarettes.

I felt a bit stupid just standing there I started to walk down the graveled path towards the dorm barracks, listening to the telltale scratching under my rough shoe bottoms, and trying to be on the lookout for the fellow Dobie. I punched my paws into my pockets and strutted along, shoulders squared and my dog tags jingling against my slab of a thick chest that could as well have been rock for the slips of metal bouncing against it. I liked the feeling of my muscles tensing on this posture, since it made me feel like my size, big and thick and burly doggie with a purpose.

A whistle made my eyes prick up and my head turn, and with precision I located the source of the sound. I saw someone lean against the wall of the logistics barracks, and with this light I could only make out the basic shape. Tall, big, wide on the shoulders and hips, and with one of his arms bent in the telltale posture of someone holding a bottle of soda up to their maw.

My heart leaped at the sight and I made my way over towards the shape, walking slowly so that in the of case off mistaken identity I could just pretend that I was coming to ask for a smoke, but I didn't have to be disappointed. It was Brock alright, leaning against the wall and holding the bottle of Coke in one of his paws. The other was currently wiping some droplets off his chin, and just as I stopped a few feet away from him he smacked his lips and licked them, and tilted his head as he looked at me.

The Brock Stahlman Shitface Grin spread over his maw as he smiled, and the paw he had used to wipe his chin came to rest over his crotch, fingers splayed as if he was trying to protect what was underneath and currently hidden by his trousers.

To me it looked like he was re-arranging his package in that very proud and age-old male gesture that comes from having a big cock and too tight trousers. I knew his made a bulge even during normal times, not to mention when he'd strut around wearing just his underwear, or nothing at all, too. Heck, even Shippy sometimes gave a quick look to compare that package with his own that was quite hefty, being a big bear as he was.

I doubt Shippy contemplated the things that came to my mind whenever I saw that Dobie equipment, out in the open or hidden.

"Heyah, Jack," he spoke to me in that hot, low voice I knew so well by now.

"Brock," I replied, flicking my ears at him as I stood there, paws in my pockets.

"Not enough action for you either on the TV?" he laughed a little bit and took another swig from his Coke, smacking his lips afterwards.

"Not much fun if I gotta stand up for whole of the show," I grunted back, scratching my thigh and looking at Brock.

The Dobie smiled back at me, his eyes going up and down on me as if he was checking me out for something.

"Well that sucks," he mused and kicked the ground with the heel of his shoe, looking at me almost absent-mindedly.

"Yeah."

The big Dobie's paw still covered his crotch and was now slowly rubbing back and forth over his thighs, those thick fingers definitely making contact with his sheath with each brush across his loins. I couldn't keep my eyes off that sight, and I felt my cock stiffening and pulsing in my pants. My tail twitched.

"Tell me you want it, Jack," he spoke suddenly, looking at me intensely.

Fuck man!

My eyes jumped between his paw playing with his junk through the cloth of his pants and his eyes, that tilted head and that slightly toothy grin of his. I swallowed.

"Whatever," I grunted.

"You want it?" Brock repeated, this time with more force in his words.

Those words went straight through my spine. He knew I was his even before I chuffed a "yeah" at him, and he smirked.

"Let's go round the back," he spoke and heaved himself into movement again from his leaning position. He placed his empty soda bottle to the ground and started walking towards the corner of the building with me in tow.

It was a long, narrow, squat, building like all of the barracks, and Brock was leading me towards the back. For a while I thought he was going to make me bend over behind the building like we did on that night weeks ago, but instead the Dobie stopped me to the small fire escape door on the back corner of the building. It was supposed to have a light over it, but it was dark, and we were in a strange twilight of the Moon shining above us and indirect light coming from the windows of the base.

Brock pushed his paw against the rusty fire escape door, and with a creaking noise, it opened. I don't think it was supposed to be so easy to open from the outside, but nonetheless, it did.

Wordlessly, he stepped in through the fire door, and I followed, again, silently, and without a word.

Once we were inside, it took me a couple of moments to get used to the ever-intensified darkness after Brock closed the door. I was starting to recognize familiar features such as the door into the other parts of the building, the shelf to the side and the workbench against the wall. I realized that we were at the back room that was used for storing washing machine spare parts, detergents and laundry bags that hung from a string on the ceiling.

"Where do you put the lights on here?" Brock spoke in the darkness, and I felt the fur on the back of my neck spike and prickle.

"I don't know man...they might notice the light from the outside...,"I whispered to him.

I knew there were two small windows in this room, and I was damn sure that the guardsman would be attracted to strange lights coming from a disused building.

I heard him move through the darkness, and then his body collided with mine, practically, and I breathed in sharply as I felt his arms go around me firmly, pulling me against him as he growled deep in his throat and held me.

"Then we have to make do with dark...," he rumbled against the back of my neck, and I shivered as I felt his tongue lap me there.

It renewed my slowly wilting erection in record time, and by the time he was lapping over my collarbone, I was painfully hard inside my way too tight pants. His paws pressed firmly against my chest and belly, and he felt me up as he kissed me sideways like that. My tongue hang out of my mouth when he reached my nipples, and Brock took some sweet time tweaking with them both while his teeth and saliva made a mess of my shirt collar. His hips pressed to my rump and I felt the familiar presence of his hard cock pushed against my ass.

We moved slightly, and Brock guided my paws to rest on the edges of that workbench, and I knew that he was bending me over like that, and I let him, because it felt so damn good when he was kissing and fondling me. Each of his huge paw was cupping one of my pecs, and I pushed my shoulders back and growled, making them really tense for him while he grinded his cock against my ass. We were both already panting only after a few minutes of this play, and I knew I wanted so much more of it. I was still a bit sore, though, so I was somewhat hesitant about the possibility that he'd push his cock into my tail again, but I was sure willing to take a little bit of discomfort that would be more than made up for by the intense pleasure of being bred by Brock.

Even now, he was humping steadily, and we made a little bit of a thumping noise as we ground together, and I tried to push back at him using my paws for leverage on the workbench, and my effort made that contact ever the more intense, and Brock growled for me while his paws explored my body slowly.

"You're so fucking warm and smell so good...," the Dobie growled near my ear before licking it all wet, and I felt drops of his spit fall from my ear as I flicked it, and Brock kept kissing and lapping the top of my head.

The fur there was fuzz short, so he could very well lap raspingly over my scalp, and that felt surprisingly hot, and it made my cock twitch and leak pre into my undies. I gasped and moaned his name and cursed softly under my breath as I inhaled sharply when a particularly hard humping motion from Brock pressed my balls against the edge of the workbench. I grunted for the almost painful feeling and pushed myself back and was treated with another mash of the soldier's hips to mind, and then he just pressed against them and grinded hotly from side to side. He was drooling against my back.

"Ahhh. Brock...," I gasped, that hot friction feeling incredible over my ass since his cloth-enclosed cock was pressing against my crack and also brushing my often-skewered and very sensitive tailhole.

I knew he wanted to sink his big cock in there, spread that hot pucker and push until his knot would batter against that muscle during each of his thrust until he'd bite down on my shoulder and simply shove himself into my protesting depths. That much was almost routine by now, but still the very thought made me pant and shiver.

He moved. This time his paw travelled up my neck and cupped my chin, and he tilted my head back and pressed his lips to mind in a wet kiss, my maw instantly falling open to admit his wet tongue and saliva. It was a sugary kiss and he tasted of Coke, which was surprisingly pleasant, warm and hot fragrance filling my taste buds and my nose. I moaned into the kiss when I felt his tongue press against mine, and he was still moving his hips and playing with my nipple, all the while kissing me hungrily. I grumbled deep in my throat and tried to keep up with everything he was doing, but the big dog was definitely the boss again, controlling the amount of pleasure we could have with great expertise. He knew when to stop kissing so that I could catch a breath, and he could stop his dry-fucking me for a while to give himself a small cooling off before he'd be off at it again, teasing me with that thickness I could just about feel but still wouldn't get.

Suddenly, he stilled, and his kisses became lighter, while his paws tracked their heavy paths over my chest, giving each of my hard nipples a squeeze on their way over my abs and my sides to my waistline, and I heard the telltale click of my belt buckle as he untied it with his too thick fingertips. As he did so he also rubbed against my hard- on, and I hissed at the feeling. He kept us in a lip lock as his paw slipped into my pants and rubbed my cock through the fabric of my underwear. I moaned into his maw, and he growled as his pads traced that heavy curve. I made an even worse a mess into my undies, and Brock simply enjoyed gliding his rough pads over the slick patch on the cloth before his paws disappeared and I was again left without that pleasure.

Instead he kneaded my hips and my belly, and I felt his thumbs slip under the elastic of my undies while he held onto me, and with a quiet rustle he pulled both my pants and my underwear down to my ankles, exposing me fully to him in the dark.

He didn't waste any time pushing his own still clothed hips against mine, and my tail wagged at the feeling of that warm presence over my rump. Brock licked my lips and snorted, and even his breath smelled like Coke in my nose as he licked the side of my maw. The big Dobie's paws kneaded my hips, remaining where they had been as he took off my clothes, and thrust a couple of times with his hips until I suddenly felt him step away from me again. I only had a heartbeat's time to mourn the lack of contact when I felt those strong paws urge me to turn over,

The backs of my thighs pressed against the cool wooden side of the workbench, and my tail snapped against the surface, but I saw Brock's dark form in the near darkness into which my eyes were slowly getting used to, and I felt the broad soldier's breaths warmly on my face, so close he was and definitely coming closer. I raised my paws and put them on his shoulders, hoping to coax him to kiss me again. Then I felt his paws grab onto my ass, and with a grunt and a "nggghhh!!" from Brock, I felt the earth disappear from beneath my paws as he big hunk of a dog actually lifted me up like I was just the standard issue backpack, and landed me to sit right on the workbench. I hissed with surprise, but was soon comforted by his lips' renewed contact with mine, and we made out messily while he groped my ass and back. He even went to tease my tail, tugging on it with a couple of pinching fingers. I flicked my tail against his palm and he nipped my lips while those same fingers were pushed down to the very base of my tail.

Those curled fingers fit perfectly into the crevice of my ass formed between the tabletop and my tailbase, and I gasped when I felt his pads press against my tightly puckered ring. The Dobie's tongue teased mine while his fingertips rubbed the muscular opening he so much craved for. It still twinged a bit painfully as he touched it and made me tense down there, but I was almost beyond caring while he played with me. My cock was fully hard and messing up the hem of my shirt, but I figured I could hide it before hitting the showers during which we were supposed to change our clothes anyway.

Brock must've noticed my arousal, since his paw soon stroked over my belly before I felt it curl hotly around my throbbing, slick length. The doggie pawed me off slowly and I drooled pre over his knuckles in big quantities, and the air was filled with the musk of rut while we made out. I felt our drool mix on my chin as some of it dribbled down the corners of my maw. It made me pant and shiver all over while Brock huffed and grunted between those deliriously good kisses, as he played with me all he liked. My cock throbbed and my tailhole clenched tightly against those fingers that kept rubbing up and down in my crack.

His kisses started to travel, slowly, going over my chin and my neck. I tilted my head to expose my throat and he attacked it as ravenously as before, nipping and licking until he reached my chest, which he treated to several kisses through the messy fabric of my shirt. Slowly, he heaved himself down to one knee, getting down between my legs. My eyes squeezed shut and my ears flattened, my breath catching as I felt his own hot puffs against my damp belly. The hot, sweet breath felt especially warm on my straining member, that pulsed and slapped against my belly from sheer arousal as my body tensed under his touching.

"Fuck, Brock...,"I managed to utter rather stupidly, but the kneeling Dobie just grunted in his throat and began to run his tongue over my cock.

He spread his slick saliva all over my length while his paws kneaded my hip and against my pulsing tailpucker. Brock's tongue rubbed over the slit on the blunt tip of my cock and made me grunt and push my hips wantonly, but Brock's paw held me back, and I groaned with mild frustration. Softly, my paws explored the back of his neck and his ears and all of his big head while he nosed and licked down along my straining cock.

Brock must've been smiling by the time he reached my knot, since his lips were wide and wet as he kissed that ball of flesh before sucking on it the best he could without risking any teeth. It made me hiss and again try to push my hips, but he was insistent on keeping me still, so I let my thighs flex into nothing, and tried to keep my seated position on the workbench.

That became increasingly difficult with Brock's tongue now bathing my big balls and their furry sac, making them wet and slick and covering them with his scent at the same time. I shivered when his cool nosepad pressed against them when the Dobie soldier breathed in my scent straight from my balls. The musk must have been overwhelming since he growled, and I let out a throaty sound as well when I felt those rumbles hit my balls and sending great vibrations through my entire body.

The silent Dobie's paw caught my shaft again even when I was still reeling over the latest feeling of stimulation on me, and I gasped when I felt his hot maw engulf me completely. Brock's lips slid down along my veiny shaft until he must've had about half of me inside his muzzle. His paw held me in a tight fist around my member, and he gave me a slow, carefully measured squeeze that made my cock throb, just as he began to suck.

My paws grasped his cheeks as the large soldier went down on me, suckling hotly all over my member as he let the saliva-slickered cock slip out of his maw until only the tip remained between his lips. His tongue circled my tip and I bit my jaws together while he forced a squirt of pre from my dogmeat straight into his maw. I felt hot trickles of his spit dribble down my shaft and it felt cool for that brief moment my wet flesh was out in the open before his head bobbed down and he again applied suction.

While it wasn't the first head I'd gotten, not even from Brock, it was still the hottest time ever, with the dog's tongue doing all those amazing things around my shaft, and his fingers were still playing with my tender tailhole as well, which only added up to the sensations.

Brock kept going up and down on my first five or so inches of cock, and he was doing it wetly and the slurping sounds were simply so lewd that my own tongue was hanging out between my teeth and dripping spittle down to my chest and belly. My tormentor had his eyes closed and simply worked on me slowly, doing it with the same precision he employed in his military duties as well. I was in doggie heaven while my meat slowly slipped between his lips, all the while being teased by his tongue that made rude circles around my angry red shaft.

I murred deeply when I felt him finally part with my pride, leaving my cock to slap and bounce against my belly with a wet slap as he said farewell to my hot dogbone with one more lap. His squeezing paw left my cock, and I gasped as I saw him move in the darkness, to bring his paws to his own waist and start working on his trousers. The air reeked of musk and sex and male and wonderful, and I couldn't stop panting.

"You want it, Jack?" he growled at me in the near darkness, and only by the intense whiff of sweat and cock and the subtle rustle of cloth I knew he had gotten rid of his own pants and now stood there fully aroused and naked from the waist down.

"Yeah," I husked, swallowing to get some saliva back to my dry maw.

I felt more than saw him move again, as he reached for his trousers now piled down on his ankles, and a quiet popping sound was followed by an explosion of the familiar scent of gun oil mixing with the rut in the air of the storage room when Brock poured some of that stuff onto his paw.

"You fucking planned this didn't you?" I huffed.

I was pretty darn sure that he didn't go carrying the gun oil all the time, only when he was planning to do...things...with me, that is, so suddenly I was hit with the reality that he must have been looking at me whole day...the whole week, hell, maybe, just watching and planning and wanting to do this.

"Maybe," he chuffed, and I'm sure he was smiling at me even if I couldn't see it in the dark, but that didn't matter.

I wanted to touch his cock before he'd shove it in me, and taste it, but Brock seemed to be quite intent on just getting it on with. I also knew that we had less than an hour to do this is all, so I just stayed still and waited for what was coming. Brock just stood there for a while, and I saw his shoulder dip in that particular way one does when touching one's self down below, and the big Dobie grunted when he no doubt was spreading the slick oil all over his cock in preparation to fuck me until my tail would fall off.

Brock stepped up to me, and I felt his breath fall over my damp chest and my face as he just stood there, and sniffed, as if he was testing my scent, and he must have found it agreeable since he leaned even lower and pushed his tongue into my maw without any warning. I batted it with mine and he made it into a long and deep French kiss with our lips barely touching while his left paw groped my ass. I thought that was a sign, that soon he'd flip me over, pin down to this workbench and spread my ass cheeks before burying his bone inside me, but that didn't come.

Instead there was his right paw, slick and smelling of the gun oil that was covering it, closing around my cock. His paw fisted slowly and heavily over my shaft and I gasped, but all my words were muffled by his insistent kiss, and his other paw caught my neck and held on me while he pawed me off with that oily paw, his tongue exploring the innards of my maw and making my cock pulse and throb in his hold madly.

Then he stood up, and growled deeply, and gave my cock one final squeeze.

Brock turned around still holding onto my dogmeat and just stood there for a little while. I could only see the general dark outline of his form, huge and formidable in any light, and hear his heavy, almost panting ragged breathing. My cock pulsed in his paw, and my system simply begged for release, to be given by whatever means Brock chose for us.

"Haven't done this in a long time, wuff," I heard him speak without turning to look at me, or moving at all.

Then I felt his paw pull on me, and I gasped and my paws grasped the edge of the workbench for support as he pulled on my cock to make it into a more straight angle, almost full 90 degrees forward, to point down rather than straight up to my chin like it usually did when hard.

In the darkness, Brock pushed his hips back and my slick cocktip pushed between his rock hard ass cheeks, and straight against the hot muscle hidden between those slabs of meat. My heart must've skipped a beat at the feeling of that slippering opening touch my flesh, and I felt, for the first time ever, how his pucker clenched when the big dog huffed as tension coursed through him. I felt that muscle practically wink at me, while Brock, his back slightly arched, stood there, one paw against his thigh and the other holding onto my shaft while by cock was pressed against his tailhole.

I couldn't believe what was happening. Was he planning to let me take him like he had taken me before? Could someone some...determined like Brock want to experience what I had - to have a hard soldier cock slide solidly into a tight canal deeply hidden behind the muscular opening until hips met hips and balls slapped against balls. He had never offered to reciprocate before, so I had not even dared to think about such an incidence, but here we were.

"Brock...," I huffed, my never so great vocabulary even further reduced by that feeling.

I could practically count his heartbeats from the pulsing of his tailhole against my own throbbing cock.

The Dobie squeezed my shaft from below again, and breathed deeply. He stood there, hips pushed back, his legs wide, and I felt his tail twitch, and his body was literally rippling with carefully controlled strength and power that was Brock Stahlman.

"Don't move," he grunted to me between his clenched teeth.

"Hold onto the table."

I did as he told me, making sure me grip on the wooden edge of the table was good, and pressed my soles against a support beam near the floor, so that my paws were still off the floor itself, but now firmly anchored.

The Dobie murred quietly and bore down on me now, and I felt the heat intensify when his puckered flesh touched my slick, blunt head more firmly.

Due to the abundance of oil there was almost no friction between our flesh, but his paw was firm on my cock and made sure I did not slip. I was pointed straight up against his tailpucker, and that smouldering star of muscle was being slowly but surely pressed more and more strongly down onto my member.

My own tailhole clamped down with excitement as my entire lower body jolted and jittered. It felt like it was having some sort of small fits down there. I wondered idly whether Brock was feeling the same. I wanted to reach for his ass, too, grab his hips and hold onto him, to be more close to him, but he had told me to hold onto the table and that I did even when my instinct told me to do otherwise. Brock's voice was still my command, and I would comply, even in this...strange situation.

The time seemed to stop when Brock snorted and we both felt his pucker give in and the top inch or so of my doggie cock slipped into him.

His slick ring practically bit down on me, he was that strong even down there, and I fought to keep my hips still even if they were quivering and screaming for a fuck.

The Dobie soldier was still in charge, though, and it would be with his pace that we would proceed, and I knew that. He stood without moving and allowed his tailhole to get used to the feeling of intrusion before he began to apply more pressure.

I fucking wished we'd put the light on because I knew it would have been such a hot sight. The big Dobie's body was on fire, all tense and coiled with power as he held himself still and did not let in to the urge to stop his body being violated by me, but he stood back and took it like a man. Hell he did, too, bent-legged and breathing in deep snuffs through his nose only while he must've been biting his teeth together.

It took him a lot of grunts and a couple of pauses along the way, but finally I felt a kind of a "pop" happen, kinda, and then another inch pierced Brock's tailhole, and he simply didn't stop once he felt his resistance go, since the soldier just kept going. With one long push he took me. My long, hefty shaft was lodged up Brock's tailhole, and he took it all until my know touched that tightly closed muscle.

I let out a long held-in groan and threw my head back while I cussed softly under my breath, trying not to cum instantly from the feeling that heat around me, It was better than a maw, and definitely better than even a muzzlejob. Almost the best part was the feeling of those huge, firm ass cheeks pressing into my crotch, and our ball sacs were loosely pressed together as well. Feeling was coming over to me from all directions.

Brock let go of my shaft and I felt his paws shift, and ours arms touched when his braced himself on the workbench. I immediately moved my paws so that ours arms would be touching more firmly, and I simply growled when I felt his hot innards give me occasional squeezes while he otherwise remained unmoving. His body was magnificent, all taunt and rippling as he bore his own weight and didn't let it fall more than necessary on me. Still, he was definitely there, and it would have been hard for me to try and get up in the odd event that I might try to. Maybe if the Reds were planning to drop the hydrogen bomb down here in a minute, but unless it was a less dire emergency, id' rather wait and see.

The soldier who had taken me so deeply growled, and gave his hips an experimental tilt that made about an inch of my dog bone slide in and out him, just once. Brock tailhole squeezed down on my shaft powerfully, and he sat still and let himself relax again before he repeated the move, twice now despite the insistent grasp of his body on me.

He didn't let it stop there either, but instead began to buck on me. He was riding me slowly, each move a measured one as he worked his body to get me moving within his hot insides. Brock was doing all the work for now and even though I'd simply loved to give him a good pounding, there was also something intensely pleasing about the fact that I could just sit back and enjoy this act without doing anything but let him do to me whatever he wanted to.

I could still feel his power over me, simple as that. This wasn't me taking Brock, it was him taking me - no different from the times when he was the one plowing on my rump like there was no tomorrow, but he was taking me again, simply in another manner that project a wholesome control of my power like nothing else. Each press of that thick ass against my log-like thighs, every sucking throb of that smooth tail tunnel over my length...they were him taking pleasure from me, and mine was the by-product.

"Let me...can I touch you, Brock?" I spoke to him breathlessly, watching the Dobie work himself over my cock excruciatingly slowly.

I wanted more...I just NEEDED a bit more. I needed to touch him and hold him while we did this, to feel his body be alive, so very, very much alive during this moment when our bodies were slowly grinding together.

Brock just grunted at me, but I took that as a yes, and let my paws land on his hips. I cupped his ass cheeks from the side and pressed my thumbs to the thick muscles at the small of his back and felt how they flexed with each of his little swinging motions that kept my cock stroked inside his heated ass. I even felt the flicks of his stub of a tail twisting from side to side along to the convulsion-like tensing of the ring of muscle currently spread wide open by the base of my cock. Hell, maybe he was doing that on purpose by moving his tail. I wouldn't know since it was my first time with my cock up a tailhole.

The Dobie's inner canal seemed to be getting more and more slick as he continued his slow and determined plowing of his own ass with the use of my cock to tease himself, and I was pumping precum into him at almost regular intervals when I felt my length burrow deeper and deeper into his tunnel.

I groped Brock's body everywhere I could reach, running my paws wide all over his back and sides and shoulders. I felt how he really worked his body, slowly increasing the amount of movement until he was letting my shaft glide smoothly back and forth inside him. His movements were accentuated by the sharp slapping of his own hard cock against his abs. I wanted to reach for it and paw him off, but I realized that it might make us lose our balance on the work bench, so I made do by rubbing his beefy thighs.

It was starting to get difficult to concentrate, though, since we had been going on for a while and my cock was achingly hard within Brock, and the familiar heat was growing inside my belly and balls and I knew that I was almost ready to cum. My swollen knot knocked at his backdoor whenever he pushed down on me and each time that hot kiss of his tailhole on my flesh made me huff. He wasn't any different in his vocalizations, since Brock was making all kinds of hot, steamy sounds as a result of being bred

His pace was starting to become more irregular, too, as well as faster, as he rode me deeply. My body complained with each pointed thrust, and I panted, my paws holding firmly onto him while we fucked.

With a sudden movement he stood up, slowly withdrawing from me until only the very tip of my cock was still fully inside him, the rim of my cockhead pressing against his tailring, and then he brought himself down, letting me glide smoothly as he took himself down with all his weight and leverage and put his bulk behind that push to get me within his tailhole fully.

The grunt he made sounded like he'd been shot with an assault rifle, so sharp sound it was in the small confines of the room as his complaining muscle was overthrown and my knot was simply forced inside him. Brock's tailhole took a spasmodic hold of me as he was stretched beyond his comforts, and the growling dog on top of me simply wouldn't stop grunting as he bore himself heavily on me. My thighs ached from the tension, but I barely had more than a couple of seconds to feel it before my entire body exploded in my orgasm.

I held onto the quivering form of Brock Stahlman as my cum was shot inside his ass in long, ropey pulses from my cock, going deeply into the soldier's intestines with each throb from my spending cock. My eyes were half-lidded and as I managed to open then I realized that part of his shaking on top of me came from the fact that he was pawing off rapidly, one paw squeezing his knot while the other went a flurry over his shaft.

Even as I was still shooting he came all over his chest and face, shooting massive globs of cum all over himself that I could only really smell, but I swear I could count the soft splat sounds of cum hitting his smooth furs. His tailhole practically milked me with each shot, and my knot acted as the perfect stopper and prevented any of it leaking away, unlike Brock whose load was matting his furs now.

We both huffed and grunted and panted and snorted until our peaks calmed down and we just sat there hunched, our bodies steaming in the coolness of the room while we came down from the high of a mutual orgasm. Brock's tail tunnel still gave the occasional twitch that tugged on my hard cock, but otherwise our randy spirits were slowly subsiding, sated for now.

I risked more movement now and sat up, putting my arms around Brock's messy chest and holding him close. He let go of his cock and caught balance from the tabletop so that I could hold him properly and without the worry of toppling over. I even leaned over to lick a couple of runny globs of cum off his chin, and the Dobie snorted and smiled at me.

"Wasn't quite like I remembered, wuff," he breathed, his voice still husky and even lower than usual.

"You did it before?" I managed to ask, keeping my arms around him firmly.

"Years back," he replied and left it there, instead concentrating on getting his bearings.

"We have to get rid of these clothes," I murmured, rubbing my paw over his soiled shirt.

"We'll leave them in a hamper here and get new stuff from the clean clothes' pile our in the laundry," he rumbled back.

"You planned that, too?" I chuckled, giving the side of his face a lap form my flexible tongue.

Instead of answering he simply shifted his hips, and I growled as I felt my knot pull back against his tailhole, and he was unable to move any further without hissing.

"We're stuck," I reminded him, and Brock gave my ass a swat with his paw, settling his big rump back over my thighs.

"A couple more minutes then," he mused, leaning back against me again comfortably.

"Just a few more," I replied, pressing my lips against his back and breathing in my Dobie soldier.

*

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