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Just a little something - calling them that seems like a good omen to me, so why not? *chuckle* Just something to get the creative juices flowing. Apparently some people were already coming down with withdrawal symptoms, and you can count me in. Don't forget to comment, vote, fave and watch!

Have a fun read!

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Don't you just love doing it sitting up with your bitch's sweet ass grinding onto your lap? Your own big sweaty ass stuck on the old leather of the chair that's gonna be making a whole new definition for what you call your favorite easy chair. I know it's a bit on the old side and there're a few frayed edges - but that's not trying to draw some fucking comparisons between my own body and the black leather armchair I was sitting on at the moment with the hunk bouncing against my thick thighs.

Oh sweet, sweet Jesus, muscles might look good on a lot of guys, and I'm all in for some eye candy and gropey-gropey, but when you actually feel all of that mass working for the sole purpose of fucking someone's ass raw, I ain't known anything better than that yet.

"Ughhh....yeah...shit..."

Those of us in the know call it the roller's gym, because everyone who knows what the locker rooms are good for knows the secret signals. Must sound a bit quaint on this time and age of internet hook-ups and whatnot, but sometimes a bit of good ol' cottaging can put surprising spring into your...cock...hehe...if it wasn't so damn hard even now, seesawing into the gym hunk's tight sweet beefcake ass.

My arms were tightly wound around his chest, so that I could feel each and every ripple of that sweaty torso, every muscle struggling to keep up the constant rocking of his body on my love pole while I just sat back, held on for the ride, and enjoyed the musky muscle furs on the Doberman's back.

Wonder if that Gray guy had someone like this to draw on when he wrote that book, heheh.

"Oh fuck me..."

I made a few token humps of my hips, to thrust my thick knotty dick into the sweet pucker that needed little besides a couple of eager fingers scissoring through his hole and a good serving of my tongue before the Doberman was soon doing a whole new kind of an aerobic exercise on my lap. My ears kept on flicking with the little ruffs and huffs and "ohfucks" he kept letting out, but most importantly I heard the repeated slap of his huge, heavy, lowhangers slamming down against the leather of the chair whenever my beefy catch bottomed out on my eight inches and then churned his hips back and forth and from side to side as if trying to mix a martini in there before going up for another pucker-stretching exercise.

Slap, slap, slap.

Sweet mother of ass, this one was tight and nice. Smelled great, too, and I had definitely made sure to tell him once I had cornered him at the locker room as a definite roller, and open for some sexy business.

"Uhhh fuck that ass!" the Doberman demanded, punctuating each word with a tight-throated rumble and a firm jab of his hips that made his own swinging cock bouncing against my arm, wound across his washboard belly.

I ain't much for dirty talk, usually, so I let him have his fun and concentrated on the feeling dangerous suctioning on my cock and ground my own musky sheath against his distended asshole, and felt my balls nestle into the crevice of his nutcracker lobes of mighty muscle. The satisfyingly squelching sound was a fun combo of my pre-cum, spit and some nice heavy duty silicone lube bubbling with the piston action of my knotted dick pumping in and out of his willingly submitted power bottom.

The trick about knowing a roller is to know a bit about the masculine character, and I ain't talking about the gayday here. It's inevitable that a little bit of paw-to-groin action happens whenever guys strip down to their underwear...or even less, heh, but the important thing is to know what counts as just saying a friendly five-padded hello to your treasures, and what extends into the realm of simply and rudely showing it all off.

I lick his neck and mess the smooth, slick furs there with even more of my saliva which has already accumulated there and mingled with his sweat, mine, and the sheer condensation of my panting against that thick, bulky neck belonging to a seriously tough-looking Doberman. I've no idea what he does in the world that doesn't involve ball-musky locker rooms and the rhythmic clanging of exercise machines in the mirror-walled chamber of sheer man-muscle love.

So what? I gotta wear a jockstrap to the gym simply to keep my boner from showing off too much while I do my thing and enjoy the things others are doing, and know that I'll be nursing that nice hard-on all the way home, with a little gentle hello in the shower as I soap myself up after a good session, before home awaits with all the bachelor conveniences one might need. That is of course if you aren't as lucky as I've been today and got myself a roller.

I held onto him even tighter as I adjusted him a little on my lap, tilting to hunk a little to the right side without losing a single inch of cock-to-ass contact while I ducked my head down and pushed my muzzle against his sweaty pit. The sudden heat of my breath there makes the Doberman lose his rhythm on my lap and throw his head back so that our neck collide softly, with sweaty slickness.

"Ohhhh keep doing that, man!" the doggie panted as I began to lick on his steamy hot pit, tasting how a good rank Doberman works himself up.

I wasn't about to stop, anyway, and decided to add a bit of fun by lifting my paw to his bulgy pectoral muscle and finding his nipple, which was easy to locate as a rich, hot nub against my palm. The accumulated sweat was more than enough to make for a nice, slick friction.

Slap, slap, slap.

He walked into the shower so damn confidently, cocky as hell, shit, which meant that I had to turn against the wall pretty quickly once he got his gear off and parked himself under one of the showerheards. I could see few of the other guys showering take peeks, too, but they were as shy as I was, and for a reason, I guess, because showing that you was boned might've scared off the poor straight guys who didn't know for the better.

"Ohhhh fuck..."

My chin was slick with my saliva, and the musk wouldn't leave my nose even after I snorted loudly and lifted my head up from his charming pit and went on to lick his arched shoulders instead.

"Ahhh man..."

I still let him do most of the work, but didn't stop playing with his little man-nipples and groping all over those rippling belly muscles that were riding him up and down on me so efficiently.

Didn't take me too long, back at the showers, to tell that he was a roller. No straight guy spends that much time soaping up one's balls and sheath, especially not doing it while whistling cheerfully and adjusting your positioning from side to side so that you're essentially showing off your package to everyone who might take a peek. And then you make another round with the liquid soap, to repeat the whole rinsing action all over again.

I was starting to get a bit winded up, now, pounding his ass in concert with the rocking of his hunky hips against my thicker thighs, and marveled at the control he was shoving despite obviously being worked to the very limits of sexual endurance by my constant teasing of his delicious body.

You didn't see guys that gorgeous everyday, especially not those who were so open and ready to flaunt it without a second thought. The seconds spent rubbing that liquid soap between his buttcheeks while holding his head up to the spray, ears flicking in the water and droplets going over his long, grinning muzzle...

Well, I was glad that my towel was close by in a hook so that I could grab it and hide myself before making myself appear a bit too predatory in this buffet of manly butts and bodies, and I had made my quick leave into the locker room.

"Ye-ye-yee-aahh...yeah, just riiiiiiight there!"

Fucking hell!

Now the Doberman was practically hunching on the toes of his footpaws, hipbones pressing against my thighs as he me strange squatting motions over my cock, and was now presumably milking his prostate with the well-aimed tip of my dick, burrowed deep into that tight, rippling tunnel that I had been filling up for who knows how long now. His bouncing balls went into an overdrive and slapped against mine repeatedly.

It almost hurt, and it felt good, and I hissed, and nipped his shoulder to tell him that this was the business I meant when it came to fucking a tight hunk's brains out. My knot felt like it was just about ready to implode, being repeatedly pressed against his asshole in the crevice of those sculpted cheeks.

He sauntered into the locker room with a white towel around his waist, water dripping along his hot torso, and with that same cocky expression over his muzzle as he passed an outgoing slinky fox and then went over to his own locker, still showing no sign of any hurry. I got up from the bench almost instantly, holding my own towel around my waist with my paw, as I took a step closer.

"Hey!" I said gruffly.

A couple of ear flicks was his reply, busy with opening his locker now, which let me take a good look at those shoulders I was even now molesting with bites and licks over the muscles that worked themselves so well now, driving us both into a mad, sexual haze.

"That was a nice workout you did out there, man," I told him, watching him from afar even as my towel tented up dangerously. "Bet you're a bit sore in the right places."

His docked tail flicked under his own towel, creating a mound on the back that must've looked much like the protrusion on the front of my own towel. The throbbing of my dick caused it to rub against the rough, wet fabric, which only made things worse for me. He harrumphed a little and still made a show of being busy with his locker door.

My hot power bottom had even forgot to cuss, now that I was driving my knot so deeply against his hole, every thrust combining my strength and his weight as the big bulb of bulging canine meat tried to break its way through into his body and claim him properly as mine for the moment. I was even playing nice enough to put one of my paws down on his thick dick and give it a generous squeeze, which he returned by starting to buck on me even harder, obviously needing that knot in him like the bitch he was at heart, in that dark, deep crevice of his mind that simply wanted to get stuffed.

"I've got a place just nearby," I told him as I kept watching his muscles move under that delicious chocolate-colored fur, "I could give you a good rub-down...."

His ears flicked rapidly, up, down, and I could hear the deep intake of breath, as I put the offer out into the open, as blunt as ever, the cocky bastard that I was when my balls were starting to do the thinking for me instead of my brain. Blame the damn nice scent of that freshly washed sex on legs, if you may.

I sure as hell did, but had no qualms.

His asshole clamped down on my knot like a fucking rubber band as I made the last jackrabbit thrusts needed to get that lump of hot man-meat deep into the even hotter male's tight ass. My claws pressed hard on his muscles and made him rumble as he felt the pressure, not to mention the extra stretching out of his rump as I made myself home.

"FUUUUUUUUUUCCKING HELL!"

That's the sound of it!

I began to hump up as hard as I could, with him riding, trying to help, even if his legs seemed to have gone into a convulsive fit at having something so big stretching out his insides all so suddenly. The pre spurting against my arm from the sheer pressure I was putting on his prostate and milking it all out told me that he didn't mind. I clamped my teeth on the scruff of his neck furs and held on tight as I made sure that soon it would not be just the watery stuff coming out of him, but something better, too.

This is what a good workout is all about.

"OWWWWWWWWWWWWW!"

He was practically howling, I was barking, as I made a mess of his prostate with a few extra bucks, and then the pulsing and rippling of his insides became too much for me to handle. My balls buzzed and soon exploded in an electric sensation that made all my muscles tense, my asshole included, as I kept on humping that sweet piece of tail until I had pumped every single ounce of my doggie cream into my willing captive's warm back passage. The Doberman seemed to be really getting off on the idea of being tied and taken like a bitch, since it only took a few moments of the full knot treatment plus my paw on his dick before he shot his own load over his chest.

And that's how our second workout ended, a mere hour after I had told him to get his gear and follow me out. I was gonna be a gentleman and drive us over, of course.

On an extra comfy seat.

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