A Shepherd's Touch - part 2
A Shepherd's Touch
by: Briggswolf
--part 2--
It was hell getting up the next morning. I tossed and turned and didn't get to sleep until around seven. My alarm went off at nine. Two hours of sleep - not a whole hell of a lot for any wolf. After slapping the snooze button five or six times, I drudgingly slid out of bed and slipped into some clothes. I stepped over to the sink and picked up my toothbrush.
It wasn't until I looked at myself in mirror that I remembered the previous night's events. I cringed at the thought - I had muzzled myself to completion, and Fuller, my roommate, had walked in on me. I remembered quickly rolling over to face the wall, but by that time I already had a muzzleful of...it. And when he had asked me if everything was okay, I had to swallow it all so I could respond. Merf. The bear would have been an idiot to not realize what had happened, especially after my coughing fit.
And yet, even though I figured he knew, I was too scared to get up during the night for fear that I had some telling evidence remaining on my muzzle. I looked closely at myself, now having the opportunity to examine everything. My worries were unfounded - you couldn't tell I had done anything, except for that wuffy morning breath combined with a certain other scent on my muzzle. I licked my lips and winced - I could still taste it. I quickly loaded the toothpaste on my toothbrush and shoved it into my muzzle. I probably set a record for the amount of time any wolf has ever brushed his teeth.
The three classes I had that day seemed to drag on. I tried to avoid all of my friends and classmates in them by sitting in the very back corner of the classrooms. I was worried that since I didn't get to shower, they would somehow smell things on me or on my breath. But the classrooms never had enough seats, and whether I liked it or not I ended up sitting next to someone else. Nobody said anything out of the ordinary or acted strangely, but I still cringed at every conversation. I'm a worry-wolf like that.
Once my final class ended in the afternoon, I dragged myself back to my room, shut the blinds, turned out the lights, and fell fast asleep.
* * * * *
I remember dreaming vividly about the first time I met Cameron. Have you ever had those flashback type dreams where it's almost as though you're reliving the past? That's exactly what it was.
It was my second day at the university. I had most of my stuff unpacked and ready to be put away, but for some ungodly reason Columbia hall had dorm closets with locks, and of course as my luck would have it my key didn't seem to work. After asking Fuller what to do, he recommended I go hunt down one of the resident advisors.
I knocked on the door to the RA's room, but nobody answered. Across the hall I could see a fox and a german shepherd playing video games. I poked my nose in and kindly asked them where Trevor, the RA, was. The shepherd quickly hopped to his feet and dropped the game controller to the ground. "Trevor's run out for a few, what do ya need?"
I explained to him about my key not opening my closet. He followed me to my dorm room and tried it for himself, but couldn't get the key to work. "Looks like they gave you the wrong key. Hmmmmm, you'll have to wait until Trevor's back to get the right one, but in the meantime..." He pushed me back, his paws grasping my shoulders gently but firmly. I could feel both strength and gentleness in his touch, and I followed his implicit directions to back away, almost as though I was hypnotized. As soon as I was far enough away, he kicked his foot against the closet door. I heard a snap, and when he turned around, he pulled it right open and winked at me. "A little trick I learned last year."
His confidence enveloped me, and I found myself just standing there, unmoving, staring at him as he motioned for me to look into the closet. His headfur, black as midnight, complimented the black on his muzzle. His brown and beige cheekfur contrasted this so perfectly, I thought I was staring into a work of art. And his eyes, oh his eyes...staring into them gave me comfort. It was the first moment at the university where I felt at ease.
I grinned and stepped forward, looking into the closet, though I'm not sure what exactly I was looking at. It was quite clearly empty. He rested a paw on my shoulder. "You need any help throwing things in there, umm...I'm sorry I didn't catch your name?"
I sidestepped and held out a paw. "Thanks I'll be alright though. The name's Manford, but people usually just call me Manny. And you are...?"
"Cameron Shepherd. Hmmmm Manny..." He paused, saying my name more than once. "Manny. Such an unusual name. Manny..."
* * * * *
"Manny...Manny...Manny wake up!" I opened my eyes to find Cameron standing there with his paw scratching my chest trying to wake me up. "Wolf, it's six o'clock, we've got to go do our collection." I just laid there for a second, staring at him, murring softly from the chest rubs (which I skillfully disguised as low waking moans - you know, the kind of growling and sighing you do when you wake up in the morning). "Get up wolf," he exclaimed, "before I have to grab your tail and drag you to my truck." I reluctantly sat up, though I would've have probably enjoyed the second option much more.
"Wow, I slept for 2 hours." I growled as I looked at the clock. "I didn't sleep too well last night."
"I didn't either," he replied as he helped me to my feet. "What was keeping you up?"
I hesitated for a moment as I ran a paw through my headfur, attempting to brush it since I couldn't see my furbrush anywhere nearby. "Uh, I was just tossing and turning all night, stuff on my mind, stuff about school." It was a harmless lie anyway. He didn't have to know exactly what it was that was keeping me up, or rather what was 'up' that was keeping me awake.
Cameron nodded. "Yeah, same here. When I finally fell asleep, Christian came back from the party and made so much damn noise, whistling and knocking almost everything off the bookshelf. He was hammered."
I chuckled. "And that surprises you? Seems like every night's a party for him."
"At least he didn't bring anyone with him last night. He's always bringing girls back to our room. Sometimes he even brings two and offers me one."
"Really?" I put my wallet into my back pocket and turned to look at him. "You've never told me about that before. Lucky you, eh?" I didn't really know quite what to say to him. I was curious about what else he might say on the subject.
Cameron sighed. "That's just not my thing." He reached up and scratched the bridge of his muzzle. "I'm not into casual sex like that. If and when I do anything, it's got to be with someone I know; someone I like; someone I care about." He giggled and jokingly added "all three in one is preferred."
* * * * *
The nearest Walmart was an hour away. When we finally arrived, it was already 7:30pm. Cameron immediately went up to the customer service desk and asked for Bill, the manager he had spoken with previously on the phone. I watched him talk with Bill for a few minutes, smoothing things over. Cameron had such natural charisma and confidence. He could get almost anything he wanted by saying a few words. He arranged everything for us - we got Bill's blessing to stand out in the vestibule to perform our survey. He even managed to talk the manager into lending us a folding table and chairs, which was definitely a lifesaver since we only had two clipboards.
As the evening wore on, more and more customers poured out the first set of doors and were met by our pleas to fill out a survey. A few stopped, though most shook their heads and passed us by. At 9:30 we had about 120 surveys done - we definitely weren't going to make the 500 mark for which the assignment called.
I had to take a break, and I left for the restroom. On my way back, I stopped at the edge of the glass windows looking out to the vestibule and stared at Cameron. I was positioned just so he couldn't see me without looking hard, but I had full view of him. The shepherd had three customers filling out surveys there. Although I couldn't hear what he was saying, I could tell he was using his charm on them. I watched him smile - the compassionate german shepherd smile I had grown addicted to seeing. I watched him shake paws with one of the customers - that firm but soft touch of his paw pads...
"Excuse me," I heard a voice behind me and felt a paw on my shoulder. I turned to see Bill, the manager standing there. "You guys are going to have to wrap things up by 9:50 so we can get everything put away."
I nodded. "Thanks for letting us do this."
He smiled. "You're welcome." He motioned towards the entryway. "That friend of yours sure is one heck of a talker."
I grinned and looked out at Cameron, losing myself in thoughts of him. "Yeah, he's one helluva guy. I...I mean...he makes one helluva partner...on this project...on any project." I turned away from Bill and looked down at the floor. Gah! It was my usual say-too-much-before-thinking response.
"You don't have to explain," The manager replied. He patted my shoulder firmly as an announcement over the PA system echoed through the store. "Hey, I have to take care of something. Good luck with the project, kid, and with everything else." And he winked at me before walking away.
* * * * *
As soon as we were in his truck, Cameron pulled out of the lot into the street. "Hey, there's a Wendy's," the shepherd said as he pointed down the road. "I could use something to eat. How about you?"
I nodded. "I'm not that hungry, but I could go for a Frosty."
Cameron growled under his breath. "I hate Frosties. Any chocolate ice cream or shake like that makes me sick, I don't know what it is." He shook his head as we drove into the restaurant lot and through the drive-thru window. After receiving our food, Cameron parked in the nearest parking space.
"So how did you learn to BS with people like that man?" I asked before downing a spoonful of my dessert.
"Like what?" Cameron replied, looking curiously at me. I motioned towards the Walmart, unable to speak from my muzzle being full. "Oh, that. I don't know, I've always had no trouble talking to people. I guess it's in my genes." He sighed and stared out the window, nibbling on a chicken nugget. "Mom raised me since I was a pup - I told you that before. My dad left us before I was old enough to think. I guess he was a car salesman.
"Mom's told me stories about him though, how he talked his way out of numerous speeding tickets, how he got pretty much anything he wanted and could sell almost anything to anyone. He was one hulluva negotiator I guess." He looked out his window, not facing me. "But he couldn't talk his way back into mom's arms after cheating on her for the hundredth time. She doesn't talk about it much. I haven't seen him since he left."
I swallowed another mouthful of Frosty and just sat there, not really sure of what to say. Rarely did anyone confide in me about personal stuff, especially since the total number of people who considered me a good friend was down around the number of times your average nun gets laid. I still felt like I should say something. "That sucks, but at least she's had you and your brother around."
He nodded and looked at me, a look of uncertain emotion, a look I couldn't read. "My mom doesn't really socialize much with me. I love her to death, but at the same time I had to get out of the house. I've felt like a project of hers my entire life, like she's trying to live through me to prove that she doesn't need my dad anymore to be successful. She's put so much pressure on me my entire life - making me play sports, swim, get good grades, you name it. She even tried forcing me to learn the trumpet back in middle school, but I couldn't do it. Anyway, I was grateful for the chance to go to an out of state college." He popped a couple chicken nuggets into his muzzle and gnawed away, looking out the windshield.
I swallowed the last bit of my frosty and turned to him. "My dad's been on my case since before I was born - 'The great Senator Pawson's only son,' who has to live up to his father's namesake. I'm pretty much a tool for him to win votes. Hell, my parents had me when they were just turning thirty. It's pretty clear what I was intended for." I sighed and crinkled up the Frosty container in my paw. "It's frustrating, you know? I haven't been able to live because daddy's been looking over my shoulder my whole life, making sure I do this, or do that. And now that I'm away at college, all I ever hear is 'so how is school going? Getting good grades, right? How many girlfriends do you have now?' I think he'd disown me if I failed a class...or worse..."
"We have to live our own lives, wolf. You have to be your own wolf." He sighed and rubbed the back of his neck. "Who am I to give advice though, I can't even stand up to my mother." Cameron gripped the steering wheel as he looked around his truck for a minute. He made a bit of an excited whimper as he reached into his glove compartment to retrieve a CD case, brushing his paw incidentally across my leg in the process. "Hey, lets talk about brighter things. Like this CD Sarah loaned me. Steppenfox - their greatest hits. God I love acid rock."
I chuckled and sat back in the chair, listening to the music as Cameron pulled out of the Wendy's lot. Even the brief instant of his paw touching my leg was enough to send powerful shivers up and down my spine. We didn't talk about much else, though Cameron kept pointing out difficult riffs he could play on his guitar throughout the song. I just nodded as my mind drifted into the void.
I don't remember hearing the second song begin, as I dozed off before it even started...
* * * * *
I squinted my eyes as I awoke, the sun glaring heavily at me through the windshield. I looked around and noticed Cameron sleeping in the driver's seat, his head leaning back against the headrest, muzzle draped open, snoring lightly. We were parked in the South parking lot of Columbia Hall. Cameron must have pulled in the lot and decided not to wake me, and not to even bother going in on his own.
I yawned and rubbed my eyes, then leaned my head over and looked deeply at the shepherd sitting next to me. God did he look good in a white t-shirt and those tight blue jeans. I looked down at his lap, and noticed he had unbuttoned the top button of his jeans - they had been awfully tight, he must have needed them loose for sleep. His beige bellyfur jutted out between the top of his shirt and his shorts. Yes, his gray boxer-briefs were visible...and so was the bulge.
I rubbed my eyes again, then looked closer - sure enough, Cameron was obviously having a 'happy' dream. I grinned and readjusted my own package, feeling the immediate effect of seeing the outline of the shepherd's erection through his briefs. For a minute I wondered what he was dreaming about. Then my mind drifted to other thoughts.
I wondered what he felt like down there. I turned and looked out my window. Thoughts raced through my mind - thoughts about being gay, thoughts about being in college and never having 'done things' with anyone, thoughts about Cameron. After a few minutes, I decided to take a chance.
He was quite asleep, I could tell by his heavy, snoring breaths. My paw seemed ten times heavier than normal as I reached slowly towards him. I stopped a few inches from his bulge and took a deep breath in anticipation.
The possible consequences of the act never even crossed my mind as I rested my paw gently on his package. I left it there for a few seconds, watching his reaction, and when I noticed no change in his state I got more daring.
I ran a finger slowly in a circle around the top of his meaty silhouette, then slowly down the length until my pawfinger could go no further due to the zipper being half-zipped up. I then extended my paw underneath the far flap of his jeans and rested the pad of my paw on his aroused canine meat, pressing lightly. It was warm, quite warm. I slowly dragged my paw down, the zipper unzipping as I did this, until finally the zipper was down as far as it would go. I reached underneath and felt his balls - they felt heavy. I dragged my paw slowly back up the length of his meat. I paused at one point, hearing him lick his lips. I looked closely at his face - his muzzle dropped back open and his ear twitched again - a good sign he was still asleep.
The tip of my paw slid through the flap of his boxerbriefs, and brushed across the warm fur of his groin. I curled my paw around and touched his aroused shepherdmeat. I dragged my paw slowly down his length, and gently massaged his fuzzy balls for a minute before returning to his meat. I explored his cock for what seemed like an eternity, totally unaware of my surroundings. It was easily seven inches, very warm to the touch, the flesh flexing every so often against my paw. I could feel that knot at the base of his shaft, already quite swollen; it was definitely a GOOD dream.
I glanced to his face, checking those eyes, still asleep, still breathing heavily. My gaze returned to his groin, noting that wet spot on the peak of the tent of his underwear. I was fascinated with his maleness, my paw withdrawing from that flap of his shorts and carefully pulling open his waistband, that formerly trapped shepherdmeat flopping in against his tummyfur and shirt.
It was a sight. I could see the veins and contours trailing up and down that length of erection, the pale reddish flesh flexing as my paw returned to caress the underside. I pet down it like it was a delicate trophy that I was admiring, finally tucking that waistband of his underwear just under his knot. That knot was quite swollen, whatever dream he was having, he was definitely enjoying himself. At this point, I wrapped my paw carefully around that firmness, giving a slow stroke to the tip, feeling the girth taper from his knot to the tip of his member. A soft squeeze near the tip and the edge of my paw became wet with pre.
As I dragged my paw back down then all the way up his shaft to the tip, engulfing the tip with my pawpad, I suddenly felt him throb in my grasp. He gasped loudly, that member flexing as I felt the first spurt of shepherdcum burst in against my paw. I whined out, unwrapping my paw and pulling it away, the next rope of cum half coating my pawdigits and also spattering his shirt.
He leaned forward as I yanked my paw from his groin and stared at his face. His eyes were already open, that expression of pleasure evident with those wincing eyes, that muzzle pursed, teeth clenched. I glanced back down at his package, his paws had pulled that underwear back up and overtop of his erection as best he could. But it was easy to see his gray boxerbriefs becoming quite wet near the top, and the few spurts that had escaped that waistband were creamy white, soaking into the fur just under his shirt. He didn't seem to notice me at first, or at least he didn't look at me, but a few seconds later he glanced over at me swith a hard swallow and yanked his jeans up, turning to the other side to zip up. He faced away for a few long seconds, perhaps wiping himself off, perhaps just readjusting himself, then he turned back to me. He looked at my paw, wet with his seed, which I was holding out in front of me awkwardly, unsure of what to do with it.
We both sat there speechless for a couple minutes. I didn't know what to say, and I was hoping he would break the silence, though I had no idea what was going to be said.
Finally he spoke. "Oh shit, it's almost nine o'clock, I'm going to be late for Calculus!" He opened the door slowly and stepped outside, adjusting his shirt and zipping up his coat around himself before shutting the door behind. He walked towards the building, backpack slung across his shoulder, both paws in his pockets, his head drooped low, his tail dragging behind. He never looked back.
I was still dumbfounded, and I stared out the windshield, at everything, and yet at nothing at all. I pondered what had just happened, and looked down at my paw. I raised it to my nose and sniffed. I could smell him all over it, that tangy musk, slightly more odiferous than my own , but not in a bad way. Maybe I noticed it more because it wasn't mine. I had an instantaneous urge to lick it clean - I was so incredibly horny from the experience, my erection straining, trapped in my own pants. I was also curious if it tasted the same as my own. I know, I know, I'm a sick wolf sometimes. But I didn't do it. Instead, I found a tissue on his floor and wiped my paw off on that.
When I got out of the truck and felt the cool Spring breeze brushing across my muzzle I suddenly came to a realization: I might have just lost my best friend...
--end of part 2--