The Search
Day 27
Like day 26. Or day 25. Or day 11. Every fucking day looks the same here. I don't really have the time to be bored, being busy, trying to survive all the time but it is so monotonous. I get up with the birds, the annoying loud birds, eat some fruits I have left from the day before, pack my stuff and move on.
I would not have imagined this island so vast. On the map it looked kinda small. But being on it is something different from flying over it obviously. Especially when you are forced to cross it on your paws, nothing with wheels being able to cross this terrain.
It is basically jungle all around and huge mountains in the middle. Today I covered about 7 km through the jungle, my fur is still sticky with nectar and ... stuff that oozes out of every plant here it seems. I should have taken a botanist with me, he sure would have a hell of a time here. For me its just annoying green stuff that sticks to my fur. I don't even want to know what my back looks like. Although it is really humid here and the trees and flowers and plats obviously have plenty of water to grow to sizes I have never thought possible, the last stream I crossed was like a week ago.
I just checked my journal, it was 9 days ago. Maybe it was good I did not ask a botanist to come with me, I don't really want to know what I smell like right now. And the heat. I can't stand the heat. If it would not take longer to get back to the landing place by the beach than actually reaching the mountains I would just turn around and leave this ... not really empty island but ... uncivilized island. My fur that has been trimmed almost to the skin before I left for here has almost grown back to full length. It's horrible.
I simply have to find them... or at least one of them. I've gone through so much trouble already ... I cannot return empty-handed. But I should stop complaining. Then again... No I shouldn't stop complaining, this is my fucking private journal and I can complain as much as I want. For all the scientific stuff there is the other journal. Although I do not yet regret coming here, it's hard to actually be here. But I still hope. Although I have not yet found any traces of them, I still hope I might find them in the mountains. Obviously I was quite sure from the beginning to not find them in the jungle, considering their size it is quite impossible for them to inhabit forests. It was my mistake to underestimate the size of this island.
I gathered some fruits today again and still have some water left but if I don't find another river or stream any time soon I'm sure I will starve before I reach the mountains. I need fish. Or anything that did not grow on a tree. Sleep now, light fades quickly here so close to the equator.
Day 31
I found water. I ate. I swam. I ate some more. I am -clean- for heavens sake. And I am almost at the foot of the mountains. At least my map tells me so. It is, as I have found out on several disappointing occasions, not the trustworthiest map, but it is a map and I am an optimistic Otter.
I was on my way again only for about 2 hours this morning when I smelled water. My body immediately mustered strength that I believed to have lost a week ago and I tumbled through the jungle at a not really safe speed (with roots and -things- all over the ground - I don't even want to start thinking about what happens to me here in case I broke a leg or a paw) until after only 30 more minutes the trees gave way to grassy ground, a clearing with a lake in the centre.
Well, not really a lake, more the widening of some small river that meanders beneath the trees. I am right now camping next to it, not willing to leave this place any time soon. Only now I have the time and am not too hungry anymore to actually take in the beauty of the place. Huge, I mean, gigantic, trees walling this place, circling this little oasis of peace. The river must come directly from the mountains, its water is really, really chalky. I believe that also is the reason for the absence of any noteworthy vegetation within a couple of hundred meters around it. I don't know, I am a zoologist.
When I reached the clearing this morning I did not have an eye for anything except the water that promised a bath, fresh drink and, so I hoped, fish. As I said, it is no real lake but then it seemed an ocean to me. I threw off my backpack and ran the last way, not hesitating at the shore but jumping right in, closing my eyes in relish, cooling my sore and worn out body. It was heaven.
When I opened my eyes again I also saw, in some distance (the water is unbelievable clear) a small swarm of fish fleeing me. After only a few minutes the swarm was even smaller and my tummy somewhat fuller. I did not feel like hunting for provisions just then and just swam and relaxed and drank and cleaned myself. At that point I was quite happy that my fur grew back because the water is ice-cold. For the moment, I am happy again.
I will swim some more now, maybe explore the river a bit upstream, possibly I discover a way directly to the spring, that sure lies in the mountains that I cant wait to reach.
Day 33
Well. Mountains.
I was looking forward to reaching them when I was in the jungle but now I am not so sure anymore that this looking forward was justified. Although the climate is getting better with every yard I gain in altitude, the ground seems to be worse than in the jungle.
The danger there was that I step on some spider as big as myself (ok, that's an exaggeration, but things around here ARE big. Or so I hope, I mean I am looking for something very, very big) or break my legs with all the roots there.
The danger here is that I either break all my toes from running against rocks or bleed to death from cutting my pads open on said rocks. Well yes, I AM exaggerating a bit today. But that's only because I feel good and am in a playful mood. The temperatures dropped noticeably and the only things in my fur now are bad navigated insects, I can live with that. Also, although I can't really walk straight ahead, I have the impression I move faster here.
Today I did not break camp after getting up right away but thought a bit of how to proceed from here. I left the jungle yesterday, camping on grassy ground, to relieved to leave the trees behind me to think of anything else than savouring the open sky above me.
Here they must be found. In the mountains I mean. The terrain is open, big valleys, lots of space to accommodate a race like theirs. I do not have a certain destination now, like the top of this or that mountain. I roughly drew up a path I want to take, somewhat upwards in a serpentine and trying to go around the central massif. I don't really want to enter that massif, but I would if I had to.
To my never ceasing happiness I also found the area here streaked with little streams and rivers. I have lots to drink and eat.
Day 37
I don't say that often, well hardly at all, but: OMG OMG OMG they DO exist. I FOUND PAW PRINTS!!!!
I am ... I don't know how high above sea level I am but there is some snow around already (also a relief for MY paws) and just after my lunch I stumbled upon it.
Although I AM looking for them and traces of their existence I almost overlooked it. Sometimes it is easier to overlook things that are too big rather than too small. What made me examine the area closer was simply the fact that I wondered why the snow was so dense there. I did not even see the outline of the paw print, just trampled down snow.
I approached the spot slowly after having put my backpack on the ground. I circled it and only then realized that it was a print when I saw the holes where the toe-pads had dug into the snow.
I was not able to move for what felt like 10 minutes. I just stared at those holes in the snow, mesmerized by their implication. The proof. They do exist. And, judging from the size of the print they must be even bigger than I had expected. Well at least the one who left his traces here. Don't jump to conclusions too early. Sadly there is only "snow around", some patches where the wind created shallow snow-drifts. I found four prints, covering an area of about 100 meters.
I've spent like two hours sketching the best print and the surrounding area. I don't even want to start speculating about what they really look like, up to now I only know that their paws look pretty much the same as mine do, broader though. Also their webs seem to cover more space between their toes. This is one reason why I did not recognize the print as what it was at first, the digits are not as clearly distinctable as in my paw prints.
What I did not find were traces of a tail. Mine touches the ground and so leaves a rut in the snow when I walk, their tails must be shorter.
Alone the fact that there ARE still prints to examine must mean that the one who left them can not be far away. I will now follow the general direction of the prints. I hope my search finally comes to a successful conclusion soon.
Day 38
I ... don't know what to say. Or write for that matter. I have found them. One of them. It is ... beyond words, beyond feelings. I am barely alive while I write this, I still tremble all over. It is just so ... so ... awesome. Amazing. There is no word for it. I try to explain what happened.
Yesterday, deep at night, I had to give up although I was still exited, cursing myself that I had spent too much time writing into this journal and sketching the prints. It almost dawned as I finally fell asleep from exhaustion.
I was up again after only 4 hours, feeling rested though after a sleep that felt like death. I almost (almost!) forgot to eat and was on my way again only within an hour after waking up, that hideous instant coffee and packing all my stuff together. I hurried, well ... walked (I am seriously no mountain otter) as fast as I could in the thin air, always looking for more traces.
After a few hours, it was nearing later afternoon, I came to some edge, overlooking a valley, dug-in the rock by a river that still ran in/on/through the bottom. Again I had no eyes for the surrounding, landscape and view and everything.
For the first time in ages a mortal Sea Otter lied eyes on a Giant Otter.
I found them. They exist. They still exist. They live and they are here. I have seen one. I ... but that later.
I stared, unable to move, my muzzle sure hanging open.
He was huge. And yes, he was a he. One could clearly see that, even from my point of view, some hundred metres away and above him.
The name was totally justified, Giant Otter. He stood about 17 or 18 or 20 meters tall. It was hard to judge from where I stood. He was ... just standing there. Looking about. He had his clenched paws on his hips.
He was, I don't know what other word to use, hugely muscled. There seemed not to be one gram of fat on him, the oily looking fur emphasizing his well toned body more than hiding it. I know I am here to first of all find out whether they still exist (check) and study them as a species, thought extinct long ago. But I must admit (yes, private journal, here I can admit such things) that I marveled, after overcoming the shock, at his physique more than at the fact of his existence. I am after all only subject to my hormones just like everyone else is.
I was not able to stop looking at him, the staring made my eyes water and my brain hurt but he was just so damn beautiful. He was everything. He was big, he was muscled, his fur shone. Proud he stood there, owning this very valley, this whole island (so it seemed at least). I know my thoughts then were stupid, not being able to compare him and know his social status but ... he seemed the most beautiful king to me.
Another admittance. His sheath. I mean ... wow. Just ... wow. It was bigger than me for fucks sake. Those balls hanging between his thighs speaking of a very fertile male.
It does not even embarrass me to say that, after admiring his chest and his abs (carved out of marble, covered in fur), my glance was fixed on his crotch. For half an hour it seemed. I don't know. I lost all track of time. What is time? It does not exist here.
My mind was filled with images of what his cock might look like and I felt my own sheath throb.
I shook my head after forcing my eyes shut, trying to focus on something else before I could pop a raging hardon. I looked at his face. It was a handsome face. Rough, not ... beautiful exactly. He had a scar on his forehead, one of his chops looked somewhat askew. But his round head and the rather short muzzle had a strange appeal. I looked at his head and features more interested now. Everything seemed to be ... round. His head was an almost perfect orb, his ears round, his muzzle round and short, his whiskers not as bushy as mine. He looked less of a Sea Otter than I had expected. Also it seemed as if is fur was finer than mine, it looked as if it was painted on him, it must be very short.
I can't recall what I did then exactly but I must have just tossed my backpack aside, slowly climbing the rather steep descent into the valley. I kept my eyes glued to him, my heart racing, my mind only occupied by this gigantic otter.
This, of course, resulted in me toppling and slither down the last meters, followed by a not so small amount of stones and debris in a cloud of dust.
I am sure I squeaked a great deal, fearing for my life now, reality forcing itself upon me, after me just drinking in the sight of this perfect (so it at least seemed to me) male.
I blinked up at the sky, dust settling around me, suddenly the silence dense. Not one sound audible. My back hurt because I had landed flat on it but after wriggling my paws and legs and arms a bit I was sure nothing major had happened, some bruises maybe. I sat up, stupidly brushing dust out of my fur and tried to stand up.
On my paws again I faced the wall I had just descended in this not at all elegant way. I turned around, anxious whether the giant otter would still be there. I almost screamed. He was looking in my direction. Searching. I thought he was looking straight at me but after a moment of shock I was sure that he had not seen me. I was still about 200 metres away from where he stood and to him I was only a ... a ... very small otter.
I tried to decide whether to try to hide from him or just stay where I was, hoping he would just not see me. Still thinking about my options, my eyes flickering between my surroundings and him, I heard a distant grumbling. I jumped forward and turned again, fearing that my plunge had loosened something that was now about to crush me. Nothing. I frowned and walked backwards a bit, looking up. I wondered what that sound might have been and turned back to where he stood hesitantly.
He was not looking in my direction anymore. My eyes widened and I gaped. He had been the source of that grumbling sound. He was mrring.
He actually had his eyes closed, one paw .... I ... I don't know, I must have been drooling then already ... He looked as if he was about to paw off. Here. In the open. He had the massive orbs of his balls cupped in one paw, kneading them. His other paw was running up and down his chest, fondling himself. His sheath seemed bigger than before now, swollen, about to release that cock of his. I could not believe it and I think I was about to faint. I mean that guy was the first Giant Otter anyone had seen in millennia and he was about to paw off.
But this was my chance. With his eyes closed and his mind obviously occupied with something else than tiny otters that come sliding down rock walls I saw my chance to approach him unnoticed. He mrred/grumbled again and I started to cover the distance between us slowly. I did not actually sneak. When you are, comparatively speaking, like 15 cm tall you don't have to sneak really. I studied him some more as I approached him, 20 metres of size were more accurate then 15. And he was almost as broad, his huge muscles bulging as he tensed, the kneading of his nuts intensifying. I reached up to about his ankle.
And I had been right regarding the form of his paws. They also were round-ish, webs covering almost the entire space between his spread toes. When I looked up again (I did a lot of looking up today) i froze.
His cock had left his sheath. And mine was hard at an instant. I mean ... that ... he was holding a humongous pole of flesh in his paw, stroking it slowly. The tip covered in gallons of pre. I gaped, not able to move one muscle in my body. This ... was ... speaking of my hormones. I like big cocks. But what I beheld here was ridiculous. That was not a cock but a creature of its own. Even considering his height and all that cock was still huge! He could have grabbed it with both paws atop each other and still a good piece of it would be visible.
I could not believe what was going on. Having come here to study and to record and what happened now was me being as horny as I have never been before in my life, staring at a Giant Otter pawing his more than giant member. I am sure saliva must have been dripping off my tongue that was hanging out of my muzzle.
I reached down, eyes still fixed on that dripping pole that by now had the dimensions of ... something very, very big. Grabbing my own cock with one paw I started to do exactly the same what he was doing. I even copied his rhythm and pace, stroking simultaneously. One of his mrrs/grumbles shook my body and I realized that I had not been as quiet as I intended to be. I lifted my gaze a bit more and froze again. My paw still on my cock I looked straight into his eyes. I gave a low squeak. Panicking. I cursed me and my hormones, my carelessness. I did not know anything about them. What the fuck would I do if I found a 15 cm otter standing in front of me while I pawed off?!
But .... i realized he had not stopped rubbing his paw over his shaft. He was -still- pawing off. Looking at me. Staring at me with his eyes the size of windows. He had brown eyes, so dark they were almost black, hidden in his almost black fur. From where I stood now, staring in is down-turned face, I saw that his fur actually was not shorter or finer than mine. It was just as mine is, just covering a surface that was more than 10 times my size. That made it appear homogeneous, painted, from a distance.
I shivered from fear but just as surprisingly as he had not stopped stroking his meat my own erection had not faltered. We just stood there. A few meters from the stream, in bright daylight and looked at each other. Well, I suppose he looked at me, with eyes that size I could not be entirely sure.
He must have sensed me for what I am. An Otter, related to him. Just much, much smaller. I lost myself in looking at him, into his huge eye that seemed to become bigger and bigger each second. Also I was now even able to feel his hot breath on my whole body, inhale his scent. It took me a couple of seconds to realize that his head really became bigger, filling my whole vision as he knelt down. I gave a start and jumped back with bouncing cock, almost toppling over my own rudder.
He mrred again, the grumbling shaking my whole body, his hot breath against me ruffling my fur. After a little while this mountain of an otter knelt before me, blocking my vision for everything else. All I was able to see was his hard, softly furred body. His cock hanging just above the ground, covering it with a huge, musky puddle of pre. His knees were just a few meters before me. He lowered his head more and soon I stared into his sniffing muzzle, his breath almost blowing me over. I was not able to see his eyes anymore, my whole field of vision occupied by his soft nose and his arm-thick whiskers.
He would have been able to swallow me whole then. I ... it is strange. I knew he could kill me in an instant but I was not afraid. I was just stunned, standing there, trembling with aching cock. I am afraid I can't write anymore today. I am weary. And hungry. I do have a safe camp, I am as safe as I have not been in what feels like months but is really just some more than 5 weeks. Some swimming is what I need now to calm me down.
(10 minutes later, after reading through this again) I can't believe it really. A living Giant Otter.
Day 39
I still am reluctant to write what else happened yesterday. I can not even say why. Maybe because I still have not wrapped my mind around it, did not yet realize it ... or comprehend it completely. Can one comprehend something like that? Ever? I am writing this, lying in my tent, looking at the bright blue, crystal clear sky through the opening, I feel the breeze on my fur, the covers under me, I see the sky and I smell the water nearby. Still I ask myself, is this real? Had yesterday been real? It must have been.
As I said, I did not fear, somehow, for my life as he knelt before me, examining me with his nose and surely taking a close look at me. He sure must have seen that I was at least as aroused as he was, my cock, despite the situation having a mind of his own in his thick head remained as hard as rock, swaying in front of me proudly. More proud than I felt for sure, facing, rather looking at the muzzle of a 20 meters tall Giant Otter. After what felt like hours (time, as mentioned before, seemed to have ceased to exist) he leaned back again, his monstrous member hanging between his thick thighs. He looked at me, head tilted and he sure looked interested. I swallowed hard and nodded. Smiling. I think. Well, I tried to smile. I have no idea what it looked like. He must have recognized it for what it was, or he just found my trying amusing. On his own muzzle however appeared a wide smile, baring his short teeth and fangs. He licked his muzzle and swifter than I had such a giant person thought capable of he extended his paw and ... grabbed me. He wrapped his huge paw around me, lifted me off the ground and brought me closer to his eyes.
My heart stopped beating, my mind went blank.
I don't know what I felt that moment. Looking back, I only remember the soft strength, the gentle warmth of his pads against my body.
I again just stared into his eyes, rather, looking at it, the huge deep brown iris radiating warmth and benevolence. His pupil small compared to his eye-size, a black dot of immeasurable depth. I then knew I had nothing to fear from him. Before (and around and over and under) me I had a gentle creature, loved son and maybe brother. Despite his rugged looks and hugely developed muscles he seemed too young to have children to be a loved father.
And also, the way he sniffed my whole body interested gave a hint that he probably was less interested in making "little" Giant Otters than fooling around with other males. That probably was my luck. He for sure saw me, at least at the moment, his brain clouded by hormones he had set free with his pawing, as some strange play thing that was roughly shaped as he was, just much, much smaller, like a doll.
He, with me in his paw, now outstretched, me sitting in his palm, nervously clinging to the fur between his pads, got up again. Being lifted about 15 meters in just a few seconds made my ears ring and my head spin even more. I am not afraid of heights but just sitting on someone's paw, having nothing to hold on to but some fur and being at the total mercy of this someone , can give an otter a strange feeling in the stomach.
What now came removed the last shadow of a doubt about his friendliness towards me. He lapped out his tongue and licked me. Like the whole me. My whole body within a second was drenched in his spit. I had his strong, wild smell all over me, his warm, very rough tongue almost lifting me off his paw, rubbing my whole body, scratching over my still hard cock, making me moan and tremble wildly.
I stared at him amazed, shivering, wet, reeking of wild otter more than of my sweat before now. A loud grumble came from deep within him, I toppled on his pad and fell over as if an earthquake had shaken the ground.
He was chuckling. He really was enjoying himself. This gave me back some confidence. He toyed with me and I was actually more than happy to play along. I struggled to my paws again, stemming my fists on my hips and looked at him straight, a faint smile on my own muzzle now. My cock was swaying in front of me and over the scent of his saliva coating my whole body I was sure to be able to still smell his own arousal.
From under me his other paw appeared. He held his index finger outstretched. I tensed my whole body, preparing for a forceful push because I was sure he wanted to touch me. I had no possibility to foresee the strength and power he would have in that finger of his that was bigger than both of my (after over a month of walking and climbing even stronger than before) legs.
I was surprised as well as amazed as his fingertip touched my chest softly, carefully. The touch sent shivers through my whole body again, making my cock jump and forced a low moan from my lungs. He touched me ever so lightly, his fur brushing over mine as he slowly trailed down, stroking me and at the same time by sheer size pushing me back so that I had to lean forward, into his touch not to fall over again. The earth, this paw at the moment was the earth for me, the solid ground I stood on, waved again. This paw had come right from his dripping cock. Adding to the scent of his saliva now my chest fur was covered in the scent of his pre, rubbed into it. I started panting.
This was ... total trust. I had no choice but to trust him. To trust him not to hurt me. This was the hottest moment in my entire life. I closed my eyes, leaning against his finger. Only after a moment I realized that I had lifted my arms and was now hugging his huge digit, actually rubbing myself against him mrring lowly myself now.
I don't know whether he was able to hear my infinitely quieter mrr but I am positive that he must have felt my chest rumbling under his touch. I dug my paws into his soft fur and pulled my body against him. He wriggled his finger a bit, stroking and pushing me, a bit bolder now that I was safe from falling over since I clung to him almost desperately, not from the fear of falling down anymore but from lust and desire.
Slowly he moved his finder deeper, my head nuzzled against the hole where his claw would extract, until his fur brushed against my throbbing member. I moaned again, opening my muzzle, starting to gnaw on his fur, holding fast to him because I was not able to trust my legs at that moment. They trembled, my knees shaking from the touch, the surface lightly touching my most sensitive spot with the potential power of tons crushing down on me.
Still, looking back, it is hard to believe what happened and also how it happened. It felt so natural, so right to do what I did. I did not think about hugging his finger and rubbing myself against him, I just did.
He held his finger still, allowing me to thrust my hips forward, bucking against his colossal digit. I moaned and grunted, humping my pre against him.
This might seem strange, it does so to me too now. Humping the finger of a member of a species that had been thought extinct and just been "re-discovered" (by our society at least). But then, yesterday .... As I said, it felt right. My mind WAS blank, my brain WAS flooded with hormones. I did not bother whether it made sense or not, it just felt so wonderful.
After a while I stumbled forward, I yanked my eyes open, my heart again missing a beat as the finger I clung to was slowly withdrawn. I looked up, panting, my tongue hanging out of my muzzle. I tried to catch my breath, looking into his eye, a puzzled look on my face.
He mrred/rumbled again, still smiling. Before I knew what happened his tongue was on me again, licking slowly from my toes to my head, coating me in a new layer of spit. I trembled and sank to my knees. This was just to much to bear. Again and again he lapped at me, I was a moaning, shivering picture of agonized lust. I was on all fours, dripping wet, crouching on his pad feebly, my whole body so sensitive from my excitement, my lust, my desire and I felt his tongue not only on my pecs or my cock or on the insides of my thighs, my sensual spots. I felt it everywhere at. the. same. time. I almost exploded, i mean not as in blowing my load, no. Exploding. Every cell in my body wanted to be on the surface, wanted to be licked by him, I felt a strain in me that I have never before felt.
Eventually he stopped, breathing his hot breath against me, cooling the spit that dripped off my face and my chest, forming a musky puddle around me. I forced my head to move, half blind looking at him. I saw his paw hovering above me, his thumb and his index-finger outstretched as if he wanted to pick something up. I frowned, trying to make sense of this.
Totally out of my mind I did not realize that it was of course me he meant to pick up. He carefully grabbed my pelt in my neck, he lifted me like a mother would lift her cub. I totally helpless hung from his grip and with another stomach-turning motion moved down again.
But not to the ground, after a second of floating through empty air I found myself placed on his cock. With wide spread legs i sat straddled on his gooey meat, still held by him. I .... for a few moments there was nothing. Probably all emotions were just as perplexed as I was. I felt nothing. It was like ... seeing myself from the outside.
Me sitting on a Giant Otter's giant cock.
Slowly feeling, thinking and emotion flooded back to me. I felt the slick, vibrant surface under my paws that were firmly placed on his soft meat. I felt his throbbing between my legs, on my rump. My rudder swished through the thick coating of pre, already heavy with his spit, now soaked as well with his pre.
The scent was mind fogging. It had been strong and manly when I sat, rather crouched later, in his paw. My body now pressed against the source of his male essence it was so strong I was hardly able to breath.
I was close before loosing myself. I smelled like him on the outside, now his aroma filling my lungs and my head and my whole body with no chance to breath anything else.
He still held me by my neck and started to slowly drag my body up and down his cock. This felt like being dragged through a pool of pre. My own cock plowing through this coat of goo, rubbing against his hot flesh. Just like his tongue earlier I now felt this giant stud all over me. But now it was his fucking cock ....
I now must ... recollect, and fill in gaps of my memory. I can not really remember everything clearly from now on. My mind did not work correctly anymore, all there was was cock. All I felt was cock and pre, all I tasted and smelled was cock and pre. My fur was heavy, his oily goo had soaked me completely.
In my mind ... there was only cock and pre.
I felt his throbbing veins between my legs, pulsing in the rhythm of his heart beat. The mrring/grumbling constantly rang in my ears. I did not see anything except the vibrating red of his monstrous cock.
I know that the feeling of strain, of exploding even intensified, I hugged down on him, grabbing and stroking as he pulled me over himself again and again. I do not know for how long this went on, maybe I came, maybe I didn't. I sort of (sort of!) came to my senses again as he lifted me up again. I know I gave an agonized wail as I was forced to let go of his member, as I lost touch with what I immediately had identified as my new reason to exist.
I hectically looked about, tried to look up but only saw his huge paw holding me, his black pad filling my entire vision.
I looked down again, seeing his goo dripping off me on his cock and the ground deep, deep beyond me. He lowered his paw again and I licked my muzzle in anticipation, tasting his rich musk again, waiting to make contact with him finally again.
I saw him grabbing his enormous log in his other paw, holding it up. I did not wonder why he did that, just waited to be placed on his glans so I again could drink his pre and touch his flesh. I eeped loudly and in shock as he, instead of placing me on himself again, tossed me in the air. I for the fraction of a second thought I might die now ... but he caught me out of the air, holding me by my tail now. I dangled from my tail, my whole body weight pulling down.
A sharp pain shot through my body, my sensitive tail base burning. I clenched my teeth and breathed heavily against the pain.
He now lowered me, head first, towards his cock. I stretched out my arms, trying to ease myself onto him as soon as I made contact with him. But when my paws touched the rubbery surface of him, he yanked me up again. He apparently did not want me to touch him, because we repeated this two or three times. Frustrated I crossed my arms before my chest eventually.
Again he lowered me, I did not move this time, just hanging from my aching tail.
I twitched and kind of pulled myself upwards on my tail as I realized what he had in mind. With my arms still crossed he rapidly lowered myself down towards his leaking piss slit. I opened my eyes wide in horror, beginning to unfold my arms to ... I don't know ... fight what was about to happen. But I was not even able to unclench my paws before everything went dark and I was not able to breath anymore as my head was pushed into his slit against the stream of his heavy pre.
He had taken me by surprise, obviously, so I had not been able to take that last breath before one dives, I did not know for how long my air would last, probably not more than 5 minutes. I opened my maw in reflex but all I achieved was me gulping down maw-fulls of his sweet salty pre that quickly filled my belly.
I did not see anything. I only tasted his juice filling my whole maw and throat. I felt the tightness around me as he pushed me deeper, my broad shoulders spreading his slit and urethra more than my head. I did not know what to do. I was not -able- to do anything.
I just was pushed deeper and deeper into his cock, bathed in his generous flowing pre. His flesh around me pulsed with his heart beat, squeezing and releasing my body rhythmically. Deeper and deeper I went. I was shaken again as my hips spread him more again, my cock now rubbing against him again, this time from the inside.
I still heard him rumbling, faintly, distantly. Here was filled my ears was the rushing of his blood, his heart beat, slowly and steadily booming in my head.
By now I was almost completely shoved down his cock, my body fit snugly into his elastic urethra. I wriggled a bit, turning and heard his grumbling getting louder and his cock twitching, squeezing my body even tighter. Only my paws and that bit of my tail he held me on were still outside him as he started to pull me out again. My cock rubbed over his soft and so hot insides in one fluent motion and I could not help to moan, my opened muzzle again flooded with his pre that I greedily gulped down.
As half of my body had left his throbbing meat he started to push me back in. I was more relaxed now, actually this was hotter than I had ever been able to dream of. I greedily and happily drank maw-fulls of pre down, feeling my belly bloat with his juice as he fucked his cock with my whole body.
My own otter-meat constantly rubbed over the soft soft soft soft surface of his urethra, his heart beat and the heat inside his cock, the snug tightness around my body .... all this ... all this ... I cant say more. Just. All. this.
In the pitch darkness of inside his cock the sensations felt even more intense as they might have felt, had I seen my surroundings. Now everything that existed was me bathed in his juice, my whole body being massaged by his throbbing and his beating heart, his tunnel convulsing around me, squeezing and releasing me. My own pre adding a few drops to the river of his.
Suddenly it became even tighter, a huge loud grumble shaking his whole body and of course his cock with me shoved into it. He had grabbed his cock with his paw, starting to jerk off again, carefully. It was tight, he squeezed me together but not painfully. At the same moment he let go of my tail and used a finger or something to shove me into him completely.
I dived deeper, against the stream of his juice. I wriggled and turned, causing him to moan again, the vibrations of his mrring echoing through my body, making me moan as well, more pre flowing down my throat.
I was, by his stroking his cock, shoved deeper and lifted again somewhat, inching my way down his urethra, arching my back, pressing my groin and cock against his inner skin. I wound myself deeper this canal, knowing that my soaked fur send waves of pleasure down his cock and into his balls. I wanted to please him as he, ultimately, pleased me, stroking his inside with my whole body as he stroked my whole body with his insides.
His heart raced, the beating filling my being, his stroking became faster. I don't know how deep down inside is cock I was, and I did not care. I did not fear suffocation, I did not fear anything. Everything that existed was this river of clear, fluid musk and his cock-meat engulfing me, surrounding me.
I believe I must have been short before fainting from lack of air, the pain in my lungs just suppressed by my hotness, by the immeasurably bigger pain for release in my cock and heavy balls. Suppressed by him stroking his meat with me inside it, as a huge roar deafened me, my eyes opened and I started into the liquid darkness as suddenly I felt like being hit by a train and was catapulted backwards. My body and my cock grinding over his urethra's surface.
I screamed, my maw and stomach flooded with a new, stronger taste. Liquid flooded around me, huge waves forcing his urethra apart as I was propelled out of his cock with, what I now realized, a massive flood of cum.
He must have sunk to his knees before cumming because I fell down only about a meter, landing in a lake of white, sticky, reeking cum. I gasped for air and couched as more cum rushed into my muzzle, down my throat, filling my already pre-filled belly even more. Bloating my insides with his sticky seed.
I do not know whether I knelt or laid or stood or crouched. I swam in his cum, whirled around as gush after gush landed on me. There was cum all around me, I was trapped in his sticky juice like an insect in amber. My eyes were wide open, as was my muzzle, still drinking down what felt like liters of cum. His spooge seemed to glow, the sun shining through it, making it look as if I swam in liquid, salty light.
Eventually I felt the absence of new buckets of cum hitting my head and body from above, I floated in his cum, all noises fainting into the distance as I felt, ultimately from lack of air, I lost consciousness.
After, I don't know how long, I opened my eyes again, unseeing, the light painfully intruding my head. I was on my flat on my back and blinked my heavy lids, glued together by what must be his dried cum and tried to sit up. My body ached and my fur was hard with dried cum. But I lay comfortably on something soft, my head propped against some sort of sofa or cushion. Slowly reality came back to me and as I finally managed to focus again, I gave a start. I did not lay on a sofa but in his paw, my back and head against his finger-pads. He looked at me, at the periphery of my vision I noticed his smiling muzzle. He mrred still, or again, softer now. Contently. He puffed against me and then ... lapped out his tongue again and started licking me, slowly. Lovingly.