A.J.'s Journal
#1 of A.J.'s Journal
(Author's Note: This story is a companion piece to the story series "Woofy and Me," chronicling the experiences of some of the other supporting characters. Reading the story series may provide some context to certain parts of this story, but it should be comprehensible on its own.)
Entries from the journal of A.J., describing experiences related to the Dubrovnikov Incident
Well, I guess I'd better get started with this, not that anyone's gonna want to read it. I mean, the doc's book will probably win some kinda academic awards, and Dave just keeps writin' like nothing else, and I'd think between them, they'd manage to say it all. The doc wants me to try writing something down anyway, though, probably to stick in his big fat binder with all of the blue guy interviews, but what the heck - I got nothing but time these days.
First, just to be clear, my name's A.J. Just the letters, that's it - an A, and then a J. Yeah, those letters do stand for something, but hell if I'm gonna tell you what they stand for. I mean, if you really wanna know... Let's just say my mom's a big fan of Carl Weathers, and leave it at that. And if you really want my last name, well, you'll have to dig for that too - I've been through way more than enough of that government nonsense myself, y'know? No sense in getting the rest of my family involved if someone finds this and starts poking around.
Man, but that's enough paranoia for one day. I oughta just sit here and try to write, I guess... I mean, how do you say it? Do you just start writing stuff and hope it sticks? Last time I kept a journal was in grade school, and that's only 'cause the teacher said we had to for a week. Maybe I should just talk, and let the computer's voice thing write everything down, but sometimes it messes up, and it's probably better to just say it out loud and type it in, anyway. I mean, I know it don't always look it, but I know how to type - hell, I even worked as an "administrative assistant," back when I first started out, but I'm not gonna admit that to anyone who knows me, that's for sure!
What can I say... I dunno how you're supposed to really start stuff like this. I mean, what do you do, just be all like, "it's a dark and stormy night," or some crap? Hell if I know... And I should probably stop swearin' and all, but hey, I'm writing this, fuck it! If the doc doesn't want to look at it 'cause of that, that's his problem. It's not like it was a dark and stormy night or anything, though, more just a day. Just, you know, a kinda boring day, you know what I mean? Just a fuckin' day, no clouds in the sky, well maybe one or two, but who gives a fuck? It's not like it's the day that matters, just like every other day out there, except in this one, something different happened, and you can probably guess what.
Okay, well, I'm gonna try to write some more today. I showed the first part to the doc, and he didn't seem to think it sucked too much - think I saw him laugh when he got to the part about swearing, though. Anyway, yeah, he thinks it's good, but he wants me to be more descriptive, I guess, and not assume that whoever's gonna read this after him is gonna know about the other stories. I mean, who's gonna read this besides him, anyway? Dave? For fuck's sake, he already knows just about all of this, a lot more than the doc, at least. And I still can't get Berkshire to sit and focus on a "bunch of boring words" for long enough to read what I have so far, let alone however long this thing's gonna end up. And I mean, writing, not really my strong suit, you dig? It works a lot better when I talk. I man, that's what I do, that's what I did, at least, back in a previous life... Hell, might as well be a previous alternate universe. Talking, that's what I'm good at - going into a room full of people, and telling them what to change in their business so that everything just works better - streamlining, people working with instead of against each other, that sorta thing. I just have a knack for looking at people doing stuff, and seeing where they're dragging, what they're struggling with, how they can do it better. And back then, it seemed like enough, you know? Decent job, decent cash, decent women, and yeah, some indecent women for that matter... And a couple of guys here and there, if I'm being honest, which I might as well be - can't exactly claim straightness after being shacked up with a guy for years, now can I?
About that, though... what can I say? It's kinda like how things were before microwave ovens, you know - your life seemed just fine, satisfying, even though you never knew there was this thing in your future, waiting to show up in your life, and if it never did, you'd just go on, totally ignorant of it - but once it shows up, once something comes along and changes your life like that, you can't imagine how you could have been happy without it. I look back, and it's like... back then, I know, I must have been happy, but now, knowing what, and who, I know now, there's no way, just no way, that I'd ever have the desire to go back.
Heh, guess I got carried away the last time I tried to write this - veered a bit off course. I keep meaning to try and write something about the beginning, back when Berkshire first showed up, but I can't think of an interesting way to say it. I mean, I hate to admit it, but it was really just out of the blue, you know? Seriously, it's a beautiful day, that day, and I'm out running 'cause I had a half-day seminar or something, and nothing to do until the next day. So I just decided to go running - beautiful day, warm but not hot, just warm enough for all of the beautiful women to take off their jackets and put on some of that oh-so-sexy form-fitting workout wear. Yeah, I admit it, I like to look, and c'mon, what guy doesn't? It's not like I'm a hypocrite or anything, I go running in spandex athletic shorts all the time, even wore them to a couple of jobs where everyone was way too nervous, and I was like, hey, c'mon, I'm practically in my underwear here, and I'm not embarrassed, so why not loosen up a bit? I mean, mostly that worked, and I only had one client cancel a contract after that, but he was a lost cause, honestly...
Man, I ramble on doing this... but hey, it's actually getting kinda fun putting this all down on paper, and if the doc doesn't like the organization, he's free to toss the printouts in the air and play 52-pickup if that's what he wants. That being said, though, maybe I'll try to focus it just a little more this time. So yeah, there I was, just jogging downtown towards the park, just letting my mind wander, letting my workout music get me pumped up, scouting for some hot chicks, being between relationships and all. The park's a good place for it, at least, it was back then, checking people out, and often enough, they'd check me out as well. I mean, seriously, not everyone can wear spandex shorts, you know? Well, I mean, they can, and sometimes they do, and it's terrifying... what I mean is, maybe I'm not the kinda guy who can run a marathon or lift a small car over his head, but I look pretty good. Takes a lot of time to build that, though, and you always need motivation, and having a hot chick checking you out as you're running by, well, that's usually pretty good motivation to me. I'd sure like to see some chicks again, but Berkshire still gets all squirrelly whenever I even get near one, and it's not like I've got that much energy left over to devote to it anyway. Man, Berk, I dunno what to say, but damn, do we get it on.
I mean, really, when it comes to, y'know, sexual preference and all that, generally I'm gonna be into women over men. But this situation, it's totally different. What I mean is, there's men, there's women, and then there's Berkshire and the rest of the blue dudes. Sexually, they're like a completely different category. Some of the stuff you feel with them, you literally can't feel with another human being, and I'm not just talking about the fur (although that feels pretty awesome too). Honestly, I've never been super-strong on the whole monogamy thing, and I've slept with, well... I'm not gonna count notches on my belt or something, but it's way up there, you know what I'm saying? I've got a pretty good idea of the range of sex you can have with someone, so it's more than an educated guess when I say that sex with Berkshire is like nothing else.
Part of that, honestly, is that with Berkshire, sex is just this thing that you do when you're horny and want to feel awesome with someone. There's no hang-ups, or self-image problems, or performance anxiety, or some psycho bullcrap that someone decides to pull just when you finally get their clothes off. With people, no matter how into it you are, or they are, or how into it you think they are, there's always something else going on with them, and you're constantly going, am I doing this right? What are they thinking about me? I can understand why some guys' dicks shrivel at the thought of sex, because they're not thinking about the sex, or the pleasure, just all the bullshit they've got to deal with just to get some. And that's one of the reasons that I fuckin' love Berkshire, because none of that stuff applies with him. It's just, you're horny, I'm horny, and then you're naked and doing something sexy and feeling good, and that's it - just pure lust. And heck, you always know when what you're doing's working, even though I've never had a time I can think of with him when it wasn't, but you don't even have to wonder because you can literally feel everything that you're doing to him, almost like it's an extension of you're own body. And when I say everything, I mean everything, every touch, every stroke, every fuckin' orgasm. I mean, how can you beat that? Plus, I can say that, prior to Berkshire, I've never learned an entire foreign language just by having sex with someone. But that was way later on, wasn't it? I should just write what happened, back at the start, but all this talk has got my engine revvin' so to speak, and that means that any moment now Berk's gonna wander over and stick his hand down my... wait, yeah, there we go, so that's it for this part.
So, Dave just brought by the first part of what he's writing up, and wanted me to have a look at it. Damn, but he doesn't pull any punches! I mean, every freakin' detail of him and Woofy getting it on, and I mean meticulous, like down to each individual hip-thrust or something - and if I never have to see the word "member" again to refer to someone's junk, it'll be too soon. And y'know, it's not like I really need to read that to know what's up - it's not like the four of us haven't had sex right next to each other like... damn, at least a few times a week, now that I think about it.
I mean, is that what the doc really wants to see? Well, in that case, doc, yer a freakin' pervo, but then again, it's not like we haven't been going at it right next to him and his partner, too. Blue dudes don't exactly know the meaning of the word shame, so around here, a spontaneous orgy ain't exactly out of the question. Do I want to write about it, though? The doc did say that it's better not to leave anything out, and really, those parts are probably the only ones Berk's gonna want to read, anyhow.
But yeah, back to where I was, freakin' pages ago... yeah, it's me, jogging through the park, on a bright, beautiful day, rockin' my workout gear, listening to some tunes, taking in the admiring glances of at least some of the ladies walking by. Basically just chillin', and knowing everything's right with the world. I'm taking a quick break, getting a quick gulp of sports drink in before going the next half-mile, and all of a sudden I start hearing screams, but the track on my player sure ain't metal. So I popped my earbuds out to see what was going on, and all these ladies and kids are running in the opposite direction. And what's behind them, causing them to take off? Well, I'll give you three guesses, though you only need on if you've read this far. I guess that's how much people fear things that they can't even imagine - I mean, you can't get a whole lot cuter or fuzzier, or bluer, than Berkshire, but everyone's taking off like he's some rabid beastie. Well, everyone except for me, because all I did was just kinda stare at him, totally puzzled, until he ran smack into me and knocked me on my ass.
So there I am, in the park, flat on the gravel walkway, with I don't know how many kilos of blue fur and manic energy lying on top of me. I'm lying there, his big fuzzy head blocking out the sun, staring into his huge, liquid eyes, and he's got this freakin' giant grin plastered across his muzzle-thing with plenty of gleaming sharp teeth to boot. I've got no idea what the hell's going on, what this thing is, what he's gonna do, but at the same time, I've just got this gut feeling, y'know, that this isn't the kinda guy who's gonna hurt anyone ever. I kinda just helped him up, got back on my feet as well, and no sooner do I do that when he kinda jumps forward a little, puts his hands on my chest, and starts licking my face with that crazy tongue! And I'm thinking, that is just like a dog, and the more I look, he kinda does have that canine look about him, with the ears and the muzzle and everything, although he's way more person than dog if you ask me. Certainly has that same kind of singular enthusiasm, though.
Once I got him to calm the fuck down, which apparently involved fuckin' squeezing the life out of my left arm, I finally got him to where he could talk, and luckily he could - given that he was practically a space alien in my mind right then, it was kind of a relief to hear clear, decent English come out of his mouth. Not that he had a whole lot to say - he didn't seem to know much about how he happened to be where he was, or exactly where he had come from. Heck, when I asked him what his name was, he just kinda gave me this blank stare, looked around, and said "Berkshire" - which just happened to be the name on the nearest visible street sign. What was clear, though, was that he couldn't exactly go back the way he came. Before I could figure out what was up with that, though, the boys in blue showed up - no, not more blue dudes, the cops, y'know? Of course, they hardly knew more, but gave us a ride downtown, where someone was supposed to know more about the sudden blue dude invasion. I almost told 'em to fuck off, I don't need to be seen in the back of a cop car, but something about their tone made me think that it wasn't just a polite request.
We got down there, and there were a handful of other guys, mostly guys my age, with blue dudes firmly attached to them. I guess one of the pairs was probably Dave and Woofy, but I wasn't really looking all that closely, as I had my own situation to deal with, y'know? Some detectives pulled us into an interrogation room, but it was more like a reverse interrogation, with some tired-looking detective in a rumpled tie trying to answer our questions without actually having any answers. He's all, some Dubrovnikov guy fucked up, and the feds were gonna shut him down so he booked it and left all these guys in his lab, and they headed out to look for him or something - back then, they didn't know about all the crazy military shit that was actually going on, and that meant they didn't know what they were even talking about. All they knew was that he had somehow made the blue dudes, and that once they latch on, that's pretty much it - they're not going away. I thought that was pretty weird, but hey, looking back on it now I can't exactly complain, right? Back then, though, I just felt more confused than ever, especially when they told me I'd have to just take the guy home with me until they could sort everything out? I think I would've gone off on the guy at that point, but Berkshire was all snuggled up against me, and I thought, hey, why not? Wasn't like I really had plans for that evening, being between girls and all. If I'd known back then that the chick who'd dumped me the week before was gonna be it, I guess I woulda' taken advantage of our time together more, know what I mean?
I mean, seriously, it's so weird to write about I used to be, y'know, straight-up straight, and now I'm shacked up with a guy and we're doing it, like, all the time. I mean, how do you explain that to your friends, and then they look at you like you've flipped, and they're all, so what, you're gay now or something? So what was up with all of those chicks you were macking on then, man? Weird way to be in the closet... and the crazy thing is, that ain't even true. I mean, I still like women, right? That didn't change. And guys - I mean, no offense, Dave, but I'd rather see you with your clothes on, all right? It's like an addition, more than anything else. I'm straight... plus Berkshire. So that means I'm bi, or something? Or maybe it's like a third orientation - you can like guys, or girls, or blue dudes, or all of 'em, I guess. I mean, there are a ton of "straight" guys here, and it seems like whatever you were into before, if a whadayacallem... cano latches on to you, you're gonna find a way to add blue dude to your repertoire, whatever it was that you liked before.
Yeah, yeah, all right Berk, I'll get to the good stuff. Of course he's now suddenly leaning over my shoulder reading this and for some reason offering suggestions, although saying "Everyone should have a blue dude 'cuz they're awesome," yeah that's probably true, but not really where I' wanna go with this. Jeez, everyone's so impatient! And no, Berkshire, I'm not going to "recreate" our first night with you right now since I need my hands free to write. Yeah, I know you can use your hands, and I
Okay, so I was gonna finish the part where I talk about the first day in that other entry, but Berkshire decided he wanted to demonstrate how well he can use his hands, y'know, physically, so that was it for writing for a while. Where was I? Oh yeah, so we were down there, and the detective was done talking, so one of the patrol guys gave us a ride back to my place. Luckily, there wasn't anyone I knew on the street to notice me getting out of a cop car with Berkshire. I didn't wanna press my luck, so we ducked inside quick, and headed upstairs and over to my place. All of the apartments in that flat were just about the same, so if you've seen Dave's place, mine was about the same, only classier - Dave's a nice guy, but fashion-conscious he is not. And hey, I made good enough money, so why not make it a good place to live, right? Nice modern couch with futuristic mesh, flat-screen TV, a real, proper king-size bed with satin sheets, some tasteful prints on the walls... it looked nice, yeah. I mean, it looked a hell of a lot nicer when I was expecting a girl over, and when I wasn't, well, it was less so. I hadn't exactly cleaned the place up that day, but I figured, hey, Berkshire's a guy, he's not gonna give a crap anyway. And he didn't so it was fine. I probably should have noticed something when he picked up one of my discarded shirts off the end of the couch and started sniffing at it, but after all the craziness I just crashed out on the couch and punched up something on the TV. He plunked down next to me after a minute, and we just kinda chilled for a while.
I guess it didn't take that long before Berkshire kinda yawned, and stretched out on the other side of the couch, y'know, just kinda tilted over, and ended up on his side with his head in my lap, kinda curled up, y'know? It was kinda like having a dog there, and I sorta scratched behind his ears, not that he seemed to mind. I thought he was just gonna fall asleep right there, but then he started sniffing and moving his head around, and I realized that all I was wearing were a pair of compression shorts, basically bike shorts, and was quickly realizing that there's not a whole lot of fabric between me and him, especially when he decided to push his muzzle right into my bulge. I was like, yeah, I know dogs like to stick their nose in your crotch, they like the smell I guess, but I wasn't expecting that to happen with him. So he was moving his muzzle around, and making this kinda purring noise, and I was just sitting there trying to figure out what to do, but then it wasn't like it felt bad or something - actually, yeah, who am I kidding? It felt pretty damn good.
I mean, at that point, I kinda knew where it was going. It's not exactly like I'm a virgin or something. And there was sure a part of me that was going, "what the hell, man? This is freakin' weird. There's a dude doing stuff to your crotch and you're just sitting there. I mean, you're straight, right?" At that point, I guess I was, but... there was some part of me, like my dick was doing the thinking, and it's train of thought was all "yo, this feels good, so who cares?" The way the doc explains it, that whole connection thing was already like partly into the animal parts of my brain, so it was just straight-up subconscious desire or something, but I don't think it was brainwashing or shit like that. I mean, it was just a weird day all around, and fuck it, I was horny and he was happy to oblige. Uh, I mean, when you get right down to it, a mouth's a mouth, right? Damn. I don't want to come across as a homophobe or nothing, I mean, even back then I was totally down with that. I just didn't think it was my thing, y'know? Even now, I can't really explain how it happened, how I went from women to Berkshire. All I know is that it just did, no matter how much I try to figure it out. Maybe this, maybe that... but how much good is it to figure out why, anyway? It's not like I'm complaining about the result, that's for sure.
So, for whatever reason it actually was back then, I just sat back, kinda just petted his head a bit, and let him nose around to see what he'd do next. Actually, it was more what I did next. I mean, it was feeling good, right? And when someone's doing that to your, y'know, thing, it doesn't exactly take that long before it's standing at attention. At least Berk did get it all pointed upward somehow, so it had some room to maneuver, but it didn't take long before it was pushing up against the waistband, with his whole face all snug up against it with his nose like right on my balls. And I was just, damn, this is crazy good. I mean, women, they know what guys want, but mostly they wanna just get that part of the night over with, so it's usually just reach down and get to it. But Berkshire - he's all up against it like just being next to my cock is the best thing in the world. And really, compression shorts ain't exactly thick, so I could actually feel his fur rubbing through them.
I was sitting there just getting into it, and I was like wow, I dunno how much more of this I can take, and then I saw him moving out of the corner of my eye. I'm like, what is he doing? I guess he was used to rubbing up against stuff, and he'd like twisted his hips down and was humping up against the couch cushion. That kinda confirmed that the thing, with his head and my crotch, was sexual all right, but I was like, am I supposed to be doing something too? I mean, fuck if I knew, I was okay getting it on with the ladies, at least there were no complaints or anything, but guys? 'Course, then I was like, "well, I'm a guy, I know what gets me going, right?" Sticking my head in his crotch, though, didn't really seem like my thing, so I reached my right hand over, sorta pushed him back onto his side, and, well, reached down and grabbed it through his boxer briefs. And yeah, by "it", I mean his cock.
Damn, I dunno how Dave does it, writing it out like this without being totally awkward. I mean, it just sounds so much weirder on paper. Really, we were just two guys sitting on a couch, and it wasn't like we were making a big, romantic deal out of it or something - heck, we weren't exactly talking much at all. Just Berkshire with his face there, and me with my hand wrapped around his cock with just the fabric of his boxers in between. And I was kinda surprised, actually, since I guess that was when I found out that while Berk ain't exactly endowed in the length department, he's freakin' thick, if you know what I mean. Just having my hand there, at the base, I could just barely curl my whole hand across, and I was like, whoa, that is something else. So I kinda just started moving my hand around, getting a feel for it, and I was like, well, I guess I'll just stroke it like I normally would. I guess he liked it, because he started squirming against me, really getting all into it, and I could feel his hot breath puffing on my crotch, although by that point, everything was feeling kinda hot.
Then he just kinda casually reached over and stuck his hands through the elastic of my shorts, and with a quick tug they went down around my thighs, and my cock just popped out and went straight up, kinda bouncing back and forth as he nuzzled the base of it. I remember just looking at it bouncing around like that, the tip of it already bright red, and I almost wanted to bust up laughing, and I was pretty sure I was just about to when he opened his mouth, unrolled his tongue, and then rolled it back up around my cock.
And that tongue... holy shit, it was freakin' amazing, even more so that first time. I mean, take people, they've got kinda stubby tongues, so they can lick you, or run tongue along it if they're deep-throating you, but Berk's tongue is something else. I mean, he didn't just lick, he actually managed to wrap his tongue all the way around my shaft, and partway across the tip besides. Crazy. Damn, it was like perfectly warm too, with just the right texture, and just wet enough to slide around, but enough friction to feel fucking everything... the first time he did it, I could have sworn my breath caught in my throat and stayed there for a good ten seconds. Then he started to really move his tongue around, and it was just... man, I don't even have words for it.
Okay, since I've gone this far, might as well be straight about it. I went about ten seconds with the tongue and that was it. It just felt too damn good. I didn't have time to even say anything, then my mind just went blank and it's just that incredible feeling nothing else at all, then the next thing I know there's a glob of, y'know, cum dripping off my chin as I pulsed the rest of it onto my stomach, and I guess onto Berk's muzzle as well. I mean, that tongue was still working, and when it finally unwrapped I'd been coming for a lot longer than usual, and I was just mega-relaxed all of a sudden. Berk was lapping at the cum on my stomach and I was just lying there, not moving a muscle, just drifting down from it all, heavy breathing and everything. Then I realized that I wasn't even, y'know, stroking him any more, but he was doing something with his hips to move instead, and he was just rubbing into my hand and moaning. I'm sitting there going, yeah, dude, I get it, I'll start up again in a sec but I'm seriously crashed out here, but it didn't even matter. He just pressed into my hand really hard, and I was like damn, that feels really warm, but since everything was all warm right then I didn't quite get it until I realized that the fabric wasn't just warm, it was wet, slippery, and kinda sticky.
And then it just sorta hit me, sitting there with my sticky hand still holding onto him - I just jacked off a guy who was blowing me. We basically just had sex, right there on my couch. I was like, I should totally be feeling something about this, but all I really felt was relaxed and friggin' awesome. Well, I mean, after a minute my hand didn't exactly feel awesome any more, and I knew it was time to clean up. I didn't really know what to do, so I just kinda pulled his underwear off and cleaned him up. Now that he was relaxed, his cock was, y'know, just a cock - not that crazy-looking, but when it's rigid, yeah, it's definitely something else. I think he wanted to just crash there on the couch, but I think I hauled him back to the bedroom to get him some new shorts. He wanted a pair like I'd been wearing, so I tossed him one and I guess they fit okay, but his fur looked friggin' hilarious all puffed up against them until he was able to smooth it down. I just pulled on some pajama pants, and flopped down on the bed. I mean, I was still glowing from it, and like most guys after something like that, it was just time to crash. Did we even talk then? Man, I think I just crashed out like that with my legs over the side, and he just like curled up against me with his head on my chest, and whatever happened after that, I don't even know, because it was lights out 'til morning.
So yeah, I think that's it for the first day. Shit, even crazier than I thought it was at first. I mean, one day, and I go from meeting Berk, out of the blue, to, well, fucking him. And I still don't know how I did it, but I wrote it all down. Heh, maybe this writing stuff ain't so bad after all. Well, except for the sex stuff, that's still kinda friggin' weird to write. Oh, and doc, if you actually read all this, then you're really a perv. Dave, though, you wanna read it, fine by me. I mean, okay, I admit it, Berk and I kinda read the first part of your thing together when the doc gave us a copy, and yeah, after we read it, we kinda reenacted some of it. But then again, seeing as how we have sex in the same room like a bunch of times a week, it's not like any of use are gonna mind that, right? Berk, especially not. As I'm writing this last bit, he's reading the rest of it that I printed out over on the couch, and I can feel him getting it up already... so, speaking of reenactments, I think we're about to take a, uh, romp down memory lane, so I'm gonna stop writing this before Berkshire just up and grabs me like last time. Makes it hard to write this sometimes, but heck, you can't complain about that enthusiasm.