Why You Should Choose Truckers With Dogs

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Huzzah! I found a workflow. Can paste directly from my software to here with no edits. This one's 2,061 words, inbetween Knot Enough Time and Uncle Steve's Ranch. And is a lot kinkier, been wanting to write somethin' like this for a while 'cause I ain't ever seen it before ;p

Enjoy!


"Ahhhh, fuck. Mmmf, god. Keep squeezin' down on my knot like that, kiddo."

Not like you could stop even if you wanted to. This coyote's said knot was throbbing right up against your button, making your own rock hard, unsheathed except for the knot, red rocket spurt even harder against the bedding. You second guessed doing it in the dude's bed originally, considering he's the one who's going to have to sleep in it sometime afterwards, this truck stop not having rooms to sleep in and he's not staying overnight regardless, but right now it's comfy and your world (and the cab) is getting rocked so you couldn't care less.

'C'mon, keep it up, yeah that's it, gonna cum in ya. Gonna load you up with my pups. You want that?" He's been doing this the whole time. Egging you on. While it's been working, your only real reply was a muffled 'yes' turned drawn out moan as he wraps his paw around your sheathed knot. Just a bit more and you're going to be shooting a load of your own.

Just.

A bit,

There. White hot pleasure shooting through you as your thin spurts turn thicker, your knot throbs, and your tailhole convulses around the trucker's rocket eight inches in your guts. "OH, FU-- GOD, oh you're like a fuckin' vice!" His hips thrust shallowly, seating himself that much deeper, "UH, UGH, FUCK, I'M CUMMIN' IN YOU, KID! TAKE MY FUCKING PUPPIES!"

Throb after throb and spurt after spurt, he loads you up. Sloppy, almost watery coyote jizz filling up your insides and marking you as his. The knot throbbing even harder against your prostate while he breeds you makes you see stars, letting out your own cry of pleasure. By the time your own climax calms down, you're left a vulpine cum soaked and panting mess of a guy, while his was just getting started. He's a big guy, towering over you by a full head and a half, not that you were particularly tall to begin with, big ol' belly on a stocky frame making him the definition of a dadbod. He mentioned trucking wasn't his first job, just what he settled down with somewhere in his forties after working physically demanding job after job. Ten years ago, he said. Now here you are taking the puppies of a man old enough to be your own father.

"Whooo, boy. Holy shit, your ass feels like fuckin' velvet kid. Anyone ever tell ya that?" He gets out in between pants of his own. Seems he's come down finally.

"Ha, naw. Been called a lotta things but never that, thanks for the new title." You reply. "Now how long's your knot gonna take?"

Roughly 40 minutes, was the answer. With a muted pop and the sound of a waterfall of canine cum hitting the sheets, it was finally time to get cleaned up. If your arms and legs wanted to work, that is.

After almost a whole hour prostrated on a stranger's bed it's amazing what your limbs won't immediately do for you. He's already back up and buckling himself back up after tucking his enticingly fat sheath back into his jeans. It's what caught your eye originally after all. Late night rest stop turned into a quick restroom break, turning into a quick peek at what the dude next to you at the urinals was packing, and here you were in the back of his truck on his bed leaking his seed.

Laplaplaplap

Correction. Being cleaned of his seed? But he's standing right beside you--

"Heh. Couldn't resist, could ya, Buster?"

Right. His dog. His dog Buster. The dog he mentioned rode with him wherever he went, you wondered where he was.

Obviously you know now, he's rimming your used ass and lapping up all his owner's spent seed. And it feels so fucking good. You let out a quiet moan, hoping he doesn't hear it and it sounds like he didn't as he just leans over to pat his pup on the head.

"Y'know, you're just gonna get fucked again if you stay like that."

Adrenaline. The first thing you feel as he finishes that sentence. He wouldn't actually let his own dog fuck you, would he? It's a DOG. An animal. You know you're a two legged talking fox and he's an equal legged talking coyote, but this is different!

Or, it would have been, had Buster not clambered up on top of you and wrapped his forelegs around your hips. You hiss at the scratches the claws leave you with, but your full attention is obviously on the dog now on your back. "Hold still," the trucker says, "let me get 'em lined up for ya."

"Hey, wait, no, dude, I don't do that kinda stuff."

"Ya sure?" He asks, groping around for your new boner. You'd gone soft sometime throughout the tie, your spent vulpine shaft retreating to its fuzzy home. "Some part of me tells me ya do." And that part is an unsheathing fox cock. Okay, so maybe you're not fully against it. But you have to put up some kind of fight, right? Once again, this is a fucking animal for chrissake. Not the kind that had already mounted you, the kind that can't even speak.

The kind that's currently jabbing wildly around your backside, his bony cock hitting everywhere but its mark. Almost making it in, as it kisses your ring and sending a jolt of pain up your spine, making you_jolt forward as well despite your limbs' protest. The trucker finally leans in, "_Now, let me get 'em lined up for ya."

It's a straight shot after that. He gropes around his pet's sheath, grabbing behind the knot and steadying it up enough to hit its mark. In an instant, a good half a foot of bony dog cock is in you and it's not coming back out til another forty minutes. In and out, in and out, the dog's hips thrust against your recovered rear like a jackhammer on concrete, though thankfully not nearly as destructive. Or, hopefully, rather. "Oho! There you go, boy. Have at 'em."

He grows rapidly, as dogs do, spurting thin spurts of his cum all the while. From a puppy prick barely bigger than one of the trucker's fingers, to as long and big around as your own fox cock, to the trucker's own pecker and beyond, the dog's capital B Big. And he's not relenting. Why would he? It's instinct.

He doesn't have the know how (or why) to go slow like his owner, take his time to break you in. No, he's using you the only way he knows how. There's no speed dial with dogs, only stop and go and he's_firmly_ on go.

Even if he doesn't realize that, though you certainly do, his knot's already fully grown and stuck in the fox butt his owner so graciously lubed up for him. Or, tried to, before he did it himself anyway. His knot's fully grown, the size of your two fists put together, and it's grinding back and forth over your prostate. You'd be glad it can't actually be ground to dust if you weren't so busy feeling stretched and used.

"HA! The look on yer goddamn, face, kid. Feels good, don't it? Ain't ashamed to say I know that for a fact." He claps you on the shoulder as he finishes, fully dressed and ready to hit the road once more. "Keeps me busy on the road, I tell ya what. Don't gotta fish for the lizards or nothin' when I got my boy poundin' me silly or lapping at my knot."

You barely process the man's words. The apparently experienced mutt finally slowing down, staying on top of you and panting just like you and his owner were almost an hour ago. He died you in less than a minute, again just as dogs do, and just enjoyed the ride. Now it seems he has a different plan than to lay down on the comfy orange bed he just humped, and goes to turn in the typical canine fashion. His owner helping him to turn, twisting that insanely huge doggy dick within your guts and making you see even more stars, maybe you should get that checked out.

Now ass-to-ass, you just sit there taking in the feelings and situation. You hooked up with a trucker, went down on him in the truck stop's restrooms before deciding to go back to his cab, undressed and got fucked silly by the big man, stayed tied for the rest of the hour, and now you're on all fours with an animal stuck in and seeding you. Breeding you.

Just like you were any other bitch in heat. Or his owner, you guessed.

"Feel that in ya, foxy? That big ol' dane dick?"

Oh that's what he was. You couldn't really tell considering you still had your face in the sheets muffling your yells. "Feels good breedin' ya don't he. Gettin' all that dog cum up in your guts, cums more than me I swear." He feels around your belly, able to feel the faint impression of his dog's dick in your slender self. It's gotta be just over a foot long, you didn't even know that was possible. "Hoho, I can feel it, foxy. Hot damn, that's my dog's cock right there in your belly. Bet he's gonna fill you up somethin' fierce."

You already felt bloated. Inflated, even, wink wink. So fucking full of dog cum your body couldn't handle it without showing it. The trucker kept feeling around your belly, feeling how it grew over time with his dog's seed. You couldn't help but feel almost nauseous at the amount he's packing in you, and he doesn't seem to be getting any softer. It's only been about five minutes, after all.

Five minutes turned to ten. And your belly only grows.

Ten turns to fifteen, and you start to almost taste it. You swear you can taste the beginning of something tickling the back of your throat, a burning. Oh no.

Fifteen turns to twenty, and your sounds of gurgling draw the trucker's attention. "Holy shit, wait, are you--"

GLRK

Dog cum starts coming up your throat. Pure dog cum, and your mouth fills with the taste of copper. How the hell?

"Holy shit, oh fuck, are you okay? This is-- oh man, should I call someone? Are you--" You're able to stall his panicking with a thumbs up and a reassuring look, even as it starts pouring through your lips. He's cumming right through you, and you couldn't be more turned on. You'd heard of his happening to other furs with horses before, anthro horses, you didn't even consider dogs, let alone feral ones. But danes are huge, and if any breed could overflow a relatively small fox like yourself they'd probably be the minimum.

"You, you're okay? Oh thank god." He just stares at the slow puddle of cum expanding beneath where your head was resting. "You're okay. You're..."

"You're kinda turning me right back on, kid."

His tent starts growing again, unsheathing inches of coyote cock into his jeans. Leaning in, "You're really turnin' me on. Not often I get to taste my boy's load, he doesn't much care for me returnin' the favor." You're confused? How's he tasting--

He presses his lips to yours. Swapping his own dog's cum with you, sharing the metallic taste with you. His tongue enters your own muzzle, not even fighting with yours as you're resigned to let it happen. Sure, why not let a trucker drink down his pet's seed through you? Weirder things have happened to you. Not! What the hell?

You hear him swallowing, gathering up enough through using you as a fucked up water bottle to actually be able to swallow anything down. If you weren't so fucking hard right now, your own pecker left alone ever since he helped Buster mount you, you'd be more disturbed, but you start firing ropes into the same puddle you started in. If you didn't know any better, judging by the man's moans in between swallows you'd think he's already creaming his pants but a quick glance down shows--

Oh, never mind. Guess he _really_loves his dog.