Brad's story, part 2
I caution you, there is scat and sex at the end. Avoid the end if you don't want to read any scatting, you'll probably be able to guess when. Enjoy :)
The car clunked slightly, Brad's keyring clanging off the steering column as he deftly maneuvered into the driveway and onto the grass strip leading into the backyard past the house. The engine spun itself to a halt, Bradley withdrawing the key and cracking the door open. Seat belt flinging itself to its resting spot, one foot stepped out onto the moistened grass with the second close behind. Reaching a hand onto the roof of the car, the wolf pulled himself out of the car before stretching and shutting the door with a dull 'whump.' Soda in hand, he made his way into the run down house where he pulled his boots off and stepped into the dilapidated kitchen. Flashing light flooded through the doorway through the darkness, Brad looking in on his father asleep in front of their plasma screen TV. His snores followed Brad down the stairs into his bedroom, where he threw himself onto the bed and stared at the wooden beams hovering above the basement room. There was the sound of trickling water inside the large cement world, inevitably from the moist ground and constant thick mist. The weather had been quite weird lately, almost two days straight with overcast skies and unrelenting mist covering everything it touched. What a Friday night it had been, Brad thought. He'd met a girl that didn't keep him at two hundred yards distance, and even been invited back! The boys would love to hear about that on Monday, for sure. It was odd, though, that some teenager would be working that late in the night. Well, early in the morning for that matter, but nonetheless. It didn't really matter, he supposed, so long as he could get to see her again. She was beautiful, after all. And he swore he recognized her from somewhere too, but just couldn't place it. Brad turned on the light propped up on a saw-horse, stripped down to his boxers and slipped beneath the covers of his bed. They were crisp and cold, warming quickly from his body heat. His feet hung over the edge of the mattress, but not far enough to warrant a bigger bed. Leastways, not yet. Laying face-up, he arched his back and felt a few cracks as he stretched again. He felt a twinge from his abdomen, an electric shiver pulsing up from his hips all the way up his spine and to his brain. Rolling the covers over, he slipped a hand into his boxers where he massaged at the soft, fuzzy sheath below. It was painted white, the splotch of white fur leading up to a few speckled on his chest, his muzzle and cheeks the only other white parts of his body. It gave him quite a cute, cuddly look, which was both good and bad. People took him to be a pushover, and maybe he was, but his roguish features certainly didn't help. Something began to stir underneath his hand, a moist, hot point trying to push his hand out of the boxers. He stripped the plaid undergarments off, his penis springing up as though it were trying to escape his pelvis. His other hand fished under the bed past the collection of white socks, fingers wrapping around a small squeeze tube of lubricant. Screwing the cap off, he used his thumb and forefinger to squeeze the cool lotion onto the tip of his dick. With the cap replaced, he used his right hand to spread it around onto the top of his penis, letting the cool substance warm up so it was more supple. A minute later, his hand descended down on the sizable red organ, the hand lotion less viscous now. His erection pulsed beneath his grasp, his hand steadily pumping up and down over its length. Brad's mind raced through countless erotic images, the cashier from the gas station popping up more and more frequently as he felt the tension build within his nether regions. The tip of his penis was drooling pre-ejaculate, the friction between hand and cock lessening with each passing moment. With one final thrust, he muscled his fist over his knot, simulating actual intercourse. His orgasm gripped him, semen pumping through his dick at breakneck speeds before the thick ropes of the white solution landed all over the front of his body. His world swam, and before he knew it everything went black. He awoke, his blankets covering him in a haze of warmth in the cool basement. He flung them off of himself, laying on his back with eyes locked on the ceiling. There was a faint hum from somewhere nearby, but it stopped abruptly. Brad reached off of his bed, into his pants pocked on the floor. Flicking his phone open absentmindedly, his brain sorted through the words in the text message. 'can u bring ur truck to my house' Brad typed back a quick message, grabbing his pants and working his way up stairs.
'Sure. Give me thirty minutes' Brad always typed correctly, even in text messages. Into the bathroom he walked, looking himself over in the mirror upon closing the door behind him. His torso was plastered in dried semen, his fuzzy head in utter disarray. He deftly turned the decrepit shower onto the hottest setting, stepping in for a five minute flash-shower. Brad got out, messed up his fur with a towel quickly before throwing on some clothes and grabbing a bagel from the kitchen. No sun shone outside, the six o'clock morning just as dark as the night before.
"Hey, kiddo. You go out last night?" Came a voice from the office room down the hall, Brad following it into the doorway.
"Yeah, just went for a short cruise. Going out now to help Evan with something in the truck,"
"All right," Brad's dad replied, fingers tapping keys on the calculator next to him as he pored over countless town audits. "Give her a bit of time to warm up, all this moisture really messes around with the engine,"
"Sure thing. Pizza night tonight?" Brad asked, kicking the back of his foot.
"Yep," Brad waved goodbye, shuffling out into the breezeway where his work boots rested, undisturbed from the night before. Tying them on quickly, he walked out into the torrential downpour awaiting him outside. The rain was icy cold on his unclothed back as he sprinted to the truck and whipped the door open. The starter whined for a second, turning the V8 Magnum into a whirlwind of loud energy. Brad splashed back inside, the door shutting out the brunt of the raging storm. His boots clamped on the linoleum floor inside the kitchen, making their way to the dresser in the living room. A fading Gray Hound tee shirt slid onto his moist fur, followed by a flannel button up shirt. Mouth full of bagel crumbs, he washed it down with a good swill of mountain dew from the fridge. Before heading out the door for the second time, Brad grabbed an oil-skin coat and camouflage baseball cap. Once again inside the truck, he turned the lights, wipers and radio on. The drive into the rural town of Clinton took roughly forty minutes in the rain, tires turning up big white arcs of foamy mist. The black wipers sloshed water off to either side, so much rain falling that some more ignorant drivers even spun out at stop lights. He pulled into the muddy driveway leading to Evan's white house, switching the Dodge Ram into four wheel drive to avoid getting bogged down in the squishy lane. Brad stopped in front of Evan's front door, popping out the door and jumping to the ground with a brown tidal wave. Evan's mom, a matronly vixen, held the screen door open for Brad as he stepped in and wiped the steel toed boots on their puke green carpet.
"Morning Mrs. Clementine, how you doing?"
"I'm fine, Brad. Yourself?"
"Good. Plenty of rain, I tell ya'," Brad spoke, smiling at her with hands folded behind his back.
"Still not enough to wash off that Dodge, boy," Said Evan's father, walking out of the sitting room and extending a rugged hand.
"No sir," Brad said, smiling and shaking the hand vigorously.
"I'd let Evan use my truck for this, but I've got to get up to the mill,"
"It's no problem, Mr. Clementine. I've got nothing better to do anyway,"
"Seeya mum, seeya Dad," Evan said, walking down the stairs while zipping up a bright yellow rain jacket. Brad nodded to the friendly family, leading Evan over to the purring truck. He backed out with a mere grumble from the truck, whipping the steering wheel around towards the open road.
"Guten fragen," Evan said, a joke between the two of them from German class.
"Howdy Ev. Where we going, and what do we need the truck for?"
"Girlfriend drove her way into a ditch into the rain. You got chains?"
"Yeah, but I'm not into BDSM," Brad replied, the fox rolling his eyes and changing the station. "Touch the radio, and die,"
"I can't listen to this crap. Where's my country when I need them?"
"It's out there," Brad said, pointing to the muddy fields surrounding them. In Clinton, there were both more cows than people, and more guns registered than people. It's about as country as you're going to get in Maine.
"Another great joke from the prodigy," Evan replied, bouncing his head in tune to the sickening country beat.
"So, I went to this gas station at like midnight last night," Brad began interrupted almost immediately.
"D'you get laid?"
"No. But she was absolutely hot. And into me as far as I can tell,"
"Well, Sir Bradley, looks like you might just have found a girl for you. Blind and deaf,"
"Let's all make fun of the single guy," Brad turned down a long road from instruction from Evan.
"Let's," Brad scoffed, dark brown eyes scanning for the antiquated Buick along the side of the road. There was a white splotch ahead, reflected off the power lines. The truck squeaked to a stop next to the car, brakes sopping with water. Everything seemed to be wet, the cabin of the Dodge the only safe haven from it's prying fingers. The two stepped out, Brad switching the hazard lights on. Sure enough, there sat the Buick in two deep holes dug by the spinning wheels. Evan reached into the bed of the truck, procuring a long, heavy chain. Brad slipped down the three feet into the cow field, nearly losing his balance at the bottom of the greasy slope. There was a cute vixen sitting inside the car, looking out. Brad waved her out, and she emerged into the sheets of rain.
"Come on Staci, there's work to be done!" Evan yelled down to them, throwing Brad the end of the chain not attached to the truck. He caught it, the weight of the steel pounding into his palm.
"Watch where you throw that thing!" Yelled, shaking it off.
"That's what she said!" Came the response, Evan's head disappearing behind the truck. Brad fastened the chain to the rear of the car, getting into the driver's seat of the truck.
"Go tell Ev to get working, and put it in four wheel drive!" Brad said out the window, shifting the white car into reverse and looking out the back window. Without warning, the chain snapped taut and the car jerked backwards violently. "Jesus," He said to himself, gingerly feathering the gas. The car began to free itself with a sickening squelch, the front bumped popping out of the soft ground with a final creak. Once back up on the pavement, Staci undid the chain for Brad, and he pulled the car off to the side of the road.
"That was easier than I thought!" Evan called to Brad, the truck sitting there as if to say 'duh,'
"Right on, I'll leave you two to drive home. I've got some errands to run," Brad replied, patting Evan on the back and hugging Staci goodbye.
"Gotta go see your new horsey friend," Evan said, smiling devilishly.
"How'd you know she was a horse?"
"She goes to our school, the only one who works at the Circle K, you dolt,"
"She does?" Brad said, flabbergasted.
"Yeah. Stop by for dinner sometime, I'll catch you Monday," Evan closed the car door, driving off back towards town. Brad slid into the red vehicle, turning around and taking back off into town. The cabin smelled of spearmint gum, Evan's one vice. As Brad cruised through middle Fairfield, some parts of town left his tires covered in three or four inches of scummy water, the rain beginning to amount to something. Kids splashed in puddles in their yards, stray dogs hiding under gas station awnings. Normally rain like this wasn't too big a deal, but something about this had Brad on edge. Nevertheless, he drove onward, making his way to the desolate gas station atop the rural hill over near Skowhegan. He turned the truck off at long last, windshield wipers squeaking to a halt at the bottom of the windshield. He entered the store, nobody inside except Amanda. He looked at her, smiling. She looked up, her face lighting up like a Christmas tree.
"Brad!"
"Howdy Amanda," Brad said, the much larger horse practically leaping over the counter to hug him. Her ample breasts squeezed against his chest, Brad super conscious of their presence.
"It's been a pretty dull day, got to admit," She said, throwing one hip off to the side seductively.
"Yeah? Turns out, not many people like to drive through flood rain. Can't imagine why," Brad said, eyebrows raised.
"Someone's a comedian!" She said, squinting her eyes at him and smiling. They wasted the hours of the day away, few customers coming and going to buy gasoline or drinks.
"Well, Amanda, it was really nice hanging out with you,"
"You too," She said, kissing him as he prepared to leave the store. "Let's go to the movies Monday?" And with that, the two of them met up each day to spend time with each other. A week passed, two weeks. Still, the rain continued as strong as the day before. More and more water began to flood into basements and roads alike, the townspeople began to leave before the impending storm. Brad was at Amanda's house, the two of them sitting in front of the television while her parents were away at work late in the night. Amanda lay on Brad's lap, the two of them making out at regular intervals before Amanda stood suddenly.
"Wait here, I'm going to go get something for you. Keep your eyes closed, it's a surprise," She said, scurrying off towards the bathroom. Brad sat there, smiling like a git, just waiting and waiting. Suddenly, he heard her behind him and almost looked back to see. "Breathe out of your mouth only, and keep those eyes shut honey," She said seductively.
"That's a weird order, but I'm game!" Brad said, wondering if he was finally going to make love with such a wonderful girl as Amanda. He heard her sit down, and felt her fingers prying his shirt away. She helped him to strip the clothes from his body, before turning his hand upside down and holding it out.
"I need you to promise me something," She said.
"What?" Brad asked.
"What happens next, don't think any less of me. Promise,"
"Uh, I promise honey. I trust ya'" He said, hearing her suck in a quick breath before placing something heavy in his upturned palm. It was warm, and very soft. Slightly soft, it quickly molded to his hand. She gently squeezed his hand between hers, the object spreading over the breadth of his palm.
"You... You can open your eyes now," She said, Brad closing his mouth and opening his eyes to a scene that his didn't expect in any way. Amanda was completely nude, her large breasts out for all to see. She was sitting on the backs of her feet, holding his hand. Inside of the hand-sandwich was... A lump of shit. No other word for it, and behind her lay an even larger pile on an old frisbee. "I'm sorry," She said, taking her hands away from his. Oddly enough, Brad's erection was already tugging at his sheath.
"No, no. I like it. A lot, surprisingly," He said, squeezing his hand into a tight fist. It smelled sweet as he brought it up to his nose, like fresh hay. It's warmth radiated through him, steam actually rising from it as it edged around his fingers. He opened his palm, the material deceptively soft. She leaned forward, breasts dangling onto the tip of his penis as it emerged from the fuzzy sheath as she kissed him deeply, clasping his hand in hers. She grabbed the rest of the enormous pile, leading him into the bathroom where she set Brad down in the bathtub. Clump by clump, the would take one of the spheres and push it onto his chest, groin, legs, anywhere. His erection throbbed for release, Amanda taking one of the clumps and squeezing the supple shit right onto his penis itself. "I'm surprised," Brad said at last, Amanda laying down on top of the wolf.
"About what?" She said, writhing for a moment to help work her shit into his coat.
"How much shit you can produce, and how much fun this is," Brad said, kissing her deeply. Her tongue explored into his mouth, his into hers. She moaned into his mouth, Brad almost ejaculating unintentionally from his first intimate contact with the fairer sex. She worked his leg between hers, grinding against the smooth, warm shit smeared surface. Her own sexual juices mixed with the brown water collecting at the bottom of the bathtub. After a while of this, Amanda stood up and looked at her boyfriend.
"Tell you what. I think it's time we showered up, and got down to the real business," She said, grabbing Brad's hand and pulling him up before turning the shower on. The filth began to melt away, and the two were eventually completely clean. "Let's go, big guy," She said, opening her thighs and advancing toward him. Brad reached up, feeling her breasts as she giggled. He moved forward, using an idle hand to aim his penis for the tear-shaped vulva practically screaming for him with wont. She lifted a leg up to his hip, pressing her back against the shower wall. His hips bucked, the shower water cascaded off of them like a thousand diamonds as the red of his cock was hidden by her deep brown outer layers, massaged by a convulsing inner pink surface. She moaned into his mouth once again, his hips beginning to piston in and out. Her pussy squeezed against his intruding dick, semen pumping through his penis in no time from the sheer amount of sexual excitement. She hadn't orgasmed. Brad pulled out, a minute amount of his thick semen escaping from her. He knelt down, tongue lapping at the gigantic clit poised above her lips. A lone finger massaged his fiery semen around the inside of her walls, he hips twitching until she climaxed. Nearly a gallon of her sweet, yellowish fluid forced itself down his throat, Brad greedily swallowing. The two exhausted teenagers slumped to the floor of the shower, Amanda snuggled up against her lover.