It's the Awkward that's Endearing, Really
_Toonces, the Driving Cat, the Cat Who Could Drive a Car
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The dinner table may as well have been cut out of a Cosmo article on How to Throw a Romantic Dinner For Your Man, but that detracted not the least bit from the warm sultry air that surrounded the intimate scene. A single parafin candle burned slowly lighting two plates of pasta, its lively flame reflected in matching wine glasses, both now empty of their aphrodisiac. Once elegantly folded cloth napkins were stained with sauce, crumpled up beside each fine white plate, obsolete since a much more novel way of cleaning fingers had been found. Careful to avoid the candle's flame, a Dalmatian's paw lifted a tomato cherry to a Thylacine's giggling lips, placed the juicy red orb inside, and felt the lips wrap sensuously around his fingertips, another innocent, nervous titter causing the tomato's juices to escape down the side of the Thylacine's mouth.
"Watch out there Justin, you're going to get the tablecloth dirty," the Dalmatian chuckled back to him, grabbing a plump red strawberry from his plate.
"Oh, you know I don't want to mess up any of our nice things, Jake, I took my shirt off first didn't I?" the subdued Tazzie cooed back. There was no trace of indignation in either voice, both were simply basking in each others' glow.
The strawberry was placed on his lips, and the juiced ran down his chin as he bit it off, a blush surfacing on his face and his chin burying into his chest as he tried to stifle another giggle. He couldn't hide it, he was giddy. It must have been months since Jake had surprised him with a nice dinner, a period of time much too characterized by stress and too little time for each other. Their relationship was at times strained. But sitting across from each other, staring into each others' eyes for the longest time they've had the chance to in months, all those stresses melted away. Justin didn't have to wipe off his own chin, Jake leaned over to clean the juice off with his fingers, which Justin took between his lips to finish the job. Was he really blushing? How long had it been since his cheeks had seen any color?
The Dalmatian's sticky white paw lifted his chin and their eyes met. The smiles on their faces couldn't betray the genuinely luxurious position they were both in, how you could almost see the stress steaming off from their bodies as they relaxed. Justin almost didn't notice in his blissful state that he was sinking into his chair, slowly and surely until he was actually looking up at his mate leaning far over the small table. He was practically a puddle in his seat, and in his silent bliss he shut his eyes and let it all surround him. The Dalmatian's paw moved to his pointed ears, scritching them lovingly and following him as he sunk. The moods of the evening washed over him completely, cradled and rocked him, warmed him from every side.
He wasn't conscious of even the cushion he sat on, the carpet under his toes, he was lost in an enveloping effulgence, until a sudden striking sensation on his chest snapped him back to form and pulled a yelp straight from his throat. His eyes shot wide open just in time to see a second fat drop of liquid parafin drip onto his body, and the hot splatter wakened him further, making him shout again before melting back into his seat, his arms at his side, looking up at the devilishly sly face of the sinisterly lovable Dalmatian. A third drop hit and his impassioned cry was met with a low lurid moan from his partner, one he matched in sensuality as the bristling sensation spread through his body awakening every nerve in his skin, making it tingle and his toes curl.
"Ooooooo," he moaned, "One more, please, that feels amazing!" His body jerked and his tongue lolled out in exasperated passion when the next warm glob hit him and ran down his chest, making him arch his back as it solidified in his fur. Warm waves of pleasure coursed over him. The wax didn't burn, it only startled like jumping into a cool pool might, but it had such lasting effects. Even as the wax cooled his body felt warm and snug, his head now resting on the cushion where he once sat. He discerned a similar look of discovery on Jake's face, whose keen grin shone with seductive mischief, obviously reveling in a newly found aggression. "What on Earth brought you to do that?" Justin asked with an excited laugh.
The Dalmatian held his answer for the moment. He opted instead to hover on hand and knees above his sunken partner. He blew out the candle, letting the last few drops drip with a splatter onto the short brown fur below him, the cries subdued but just as passionate. "Ohhh, I dunno what's gotten into me," the Dalmatian mused, looking down from all fours, his tail wagging gleefully behind him, "But maybe, maybe, I think I've found a grand new way to expunge that stress I know we've both been dealing with. See... I haven't cum in about a week now, what with Life and all, and I think I've got some pretty significant reserves backed up... and I'm sure you do too..." he crawled forward, careful and sure with his paws as he placed them on the chair, one on each side of Justin's head. He leaned down low for a kiss returned with vigor, the kind of effort you can only put into a kiss when surprised from such a strange position.
The Dalmatian continued after the short pause for the liplock. "We're going to play a little bit of a game. You know how we dogs love games... well..." a suddenly crueler thought must have popped into his brain, for he suddenly stopped and his eyebrows curled into a sinister arch. "I guess you'll figure out the rules as we go along." Justin didn't have the heart to tell him his attempts at being sultry and cool were awkward at best, but it was the imperfection that was most endearing and brought a smile to his muzzle.
"What? What are we play-" his questions were muffled by another kiss as the Dalmatian climbed down from his perch and sat in Justin's lap, not letting their lips break for a moment. He slowly lifted the weak-kneed Devil to his feet, scooped him up in his arms, and carried him off. Justin's rosy cheeks framed a confused but excited grin. He wrapped his arm's around Jake and held on, not for security, but for closeness. It seemed like such a strange way for the dog to be acting, but so far he wasn't in any mood to question the spontaneity of the moment. Romantic nights together had ended in not quite so extreme a fashion before, a promising dinner often leading to no more than falling asleep on the couch watching a movie, and the sting of those worries loomed in the back of his head. He didn't know the dog's master plan, and he tried to have unqualified confidence, but insecurities crept regardless.
He was placed delicately in bed, a hopeful giggle creeping into his throat as he waited for Jake to join him, though the dog didn't immediately. He stood at the edge of the bed, his paws tracing the Thylacine's curves, pinching minor lovehandles and teasing erect nipples. Justin murred in delight, directing the dog to specific spots in need of attention. He tried to keep the conversation up, a little wary of silence that often broke down into uncomfortable suspicion, but after a few minutes of that a finger placed on his lips urged him to simply sit back and enjoy. Justin could feel the friendly tugs on the fabric of his pants as the button was maneuvered open and the fly zipped down. He shook with a sudden alien feeling of vulnerability, a surprisingly welcome sensation, as the pants were slid down his legs and all of him exposed for the Dalmatian's pleasure.
He expected a paw to immediately grab his sheath in a rough, anxious grasp, the kind that was often liable to make him wince rather than moan... but instead he felt a solid slap on his rump that opened his eyes wide and pulled a weak gasp from his throat.
"Now you do me," Jake ordered brusquely, even with a slightly unsure tone to his voice. He stood with his back straight, and it struck Justin that the Dalmatian almost looked a foot taller. Maybe it was his position that made it seem that way. Everything about Jake seemed much more vibrant and... imposing. Either he had never noticed these changes before, or his forced perspective just made the Dalmatian's arms seem stronger and more toned, his fur fluffed and pristine white save for the ink black spots, his posture perfectly straight. his tail swishing elegantly behind him. When he took his shirt off Justin wondered how that flat, perfect stomach had gone by unnoticed until he found himself below the Dalmatian looking up. The position had already shed a whole new light on the dog for him, one that had him jumping to the edge of the bed the moment his attention recovered.
His paws fumbled on the button. He'd never been asked to undress anyone before, and he found it really was an odd angle to do it from, and a paw placed on his head tousling his hair didn't help. His heartbeat quickened as his head got hot as the insufferable wait for his dumb fingers to cooperate dragged on and on, and when it finally released and the zipper unzipped, he immediately thrust his muzzle against the white sheath. In the effort he had found himself unaware of the fact that he was now leaning over the bed, and had Jake stepped back a foot, he would have fallen off. He nuzzled the puffing package against his cheek, feeling it fill out against him.
"Ok, first stage of the little game we're going to play," Jake stated with an air of increasing officialness, "Is that you're going to suck my dick. Won't that be fun, hon?" He said, scritching under the Thylacine's canine chin, the expression in Justin's eyes giving his emphatic answer. He buried his tongue in the plump sheath, probing it for the firm tip inside. It wasn't the first time he'd dipped his tongue inside the tight hole, but it felt brand new in some formless way. The sheath tasted just the same as it always had, and the sensations of Jake's fur against his forehead was just as it always was. As he felt the Dalmatian dick swell against his tongue, competing with it for space in the tight packed sheath, a realization hit him. This was the first time things didn't start rolling with a fumbled question. Justin was invariably horny, but too shy, always waiting for the Dalmatian to ask... which was always done with a bit of a huff. It wasn't a secret that the dog just wasn't an interested in sex as the Thylacine, and the fact tainted each act just enough to make the mood uncomfortable. For once, the Dalmatian hadn't asked the Thylacine if he was horny... he outright told him that he'd be sucking some dick. The final piece of this realization fell into place as his tongue was shoved from the sheath, and the Dalmatian's tip grew between his lips.
Justin delighted himself so deeply in his task to pull the Dalmatian's manhood from its sheath that he hardly noticed his own member had swelled quickly to a full, stiff rod. It never took much to get him going, but it was a unique instance that the Dalmatian had so engrossed him in sucking his cock that he had forgotten almost completely about himself. The desire to satisfy Jake and his suddenly demanding attitude had forced all other desires out of his mind. He rolled his tongue along each emerging inch, gratefully accepting it into his muzzle, his paws gripping the Dalmatian's cheeks for support. The Dalmatian took a small step back, bringing the Thylacine and his lips with him. He took a few more small steps back, too small for Justin to notice, who leaned forward further to accommodate the change without letting the dick slide even a fraction out of his lips, which pressed against the slowly swelling knot. He followed the Dalmatian's movements unconsciously, not even aware that he was now suspended over the edge of the bed, held up only by the Dalmatian's paws under his arms. It was with a startled gasp that his legs finally fell from the bed, Jake keeping him held up in his strong paws, then, with the Thylacine now on the ground, pushing him backward against the bed so that he was at perfect height for a nice firm muzzlefucking. And so he got one. Justin tried desperately to keep up with the thrusts, rolling and slurping with his tongue as best he could, trying not to choke as the long stiff prick was forced down his throat, attempting to wrangle the knot between his lips. He would have squealed, if not for the dick more or less preventing any utterance other than a deep chest grunt. He leaned forward to meet each thrust, tried to slurp his tongue over the Dalmatian's balls, and generally blissed in the overdose of dick he was finally getting after years of want.
He would have been lucky to get his ears scritched only a week ago, when he might attack the Dalmatian's dick with ferocity but never get anything more than a dismissive "thanks" for it afterwards. Jake's lack of emotion, lack of aggression, during sex was a distant worry now as the dog had seemingly been infected with lusty desires, and finally not only could Justin not get enough of Jake, but Jake seemed not to be able to get enough of Justin. He didn't know what had overcome the dog, but the attention, the sense of being able to fulfill desires, was empowering even in the submissive position he was in, underneath the dog having his throat fucked while his lips could only try to contribute and his tongue rolled and waved madly to magnify the Dalmatian's pleasure.
His body seemed at complete peace. It didn't convulse in tremendous pangs of lust and satisfaction, his face didn't contort into all different kinds of unbecoming formations, his toes weren't stuck in the curled position. Rather, his tail wagged and he couldn't withhold a dumb smile as he let the Dalmatian's balls slap against his chin.
"Would now be a weird time to say I love you?" The Dalmatian asked as he humped away, a little bit breathy, "Because right about now I really, really fucking love you." Justin almost had to laugh, not that he really could have given his position... and looking up he could see Jake fighting back an endearing grin himself. Awkward way to to put it, certainly, but it was a start. For a dog who rarely said the words without hearing them first, it was like a chorus of angels to him.
If a topic such as this ever came up in polite conversation, Justin would have been tongue-tied to explain how he could have felt so loved to see the Dalmatian's honest energy, the way he attacked the situation with such gusto. And through the ethereal and formless feelings of love there was still the physical fact that he was being muzzle-fucked like he never had been before. The emotional and physical sensations mingled inside him, around him; they encompassed him, made him warm with passion... his heart beat fast and his throat was sore... his tail wagged freely and his tongue rolled madly... it was an onslaught he hadn't ever been prepared for. Too often before had the physical and emotional desires been separated that their sudden mixing was like combustion. In short: His dick was really sore.
Perhaps in his thoughts he hadn't heard Jake's moans building in excitement, but he was certainly made aware of his Dalmatian's likewise enjoyment of the moment when a hot, thick wad of cum shot down his throat, then another, the taste collected on his tongue as the Dalmation continued to thrust, timing each shot almost perfectly so that if seemed to shoot straight down his gullet. Pulling out a little, he let a few massive shots collect on the Thylacine's tongue, let him taste and roll the seed over his tongue before swallowing it gladly. The Dalmatian had the Thylacine's ears in a death grip as he shot his last few drops onto into the hungry muzzle. "Well," he said with an easy sigh, not seeming the least bit fatigued as the panting Thylacine looked up with wide, hopeful eyes, "That's a start."
"A start?" Justin asked.
"Up," Jake replied, lifting him into bed by his armpits. His lust had apparently not been satisfied, and if nothing else the rough blowjob only seemed to have invigorated him. Justin had to feel a sense of pride he had never felt before... he hadn't shattered the Dalmatian, he hadn't simply finished him off... he had only worked him up into a froth. Could he have claimed to have ever done that before? Could he say that any time before now - now he was on his stomach, his arms being wrenched behind his back - had he done anything than put him to sleep? The times the orgasm was treated like Nature's Tylenol PM were innumerable, to the point where Justin had begun to see it as the inherent denoument of the act, at times perhaps even its purpose, and now - now a smooth red bow was being tied taut around his wrists - had his body, his muzzle, succeeded in making the Dalmatian hornier? Had he done what he thought impossible, and rather than removing the dog's lust, as he had begun to presume the act of sex was for, had he found the true goal in raising it? How could he not smile when now - now he was turned over on his back, paws wriggling, to look up into his lover's mischievous eyes - he felt like he was a fountain of lust and passion, rather than the bucket into which those cumbersome desires could be dumped?
And all the while Justin was being rolled about in bed, Jake's tongue gained in confidence, and wagged as if freed from a prison. Justin could feel Jake's hot, passionate breaths under his chin as the Dalmatian laid along his body, his still-plump sheath grinding against the Thylacine's cock. "I've never known I could get like this," Jake said in a huff. "I feel so..." he searched for the words, kissing Justin's lips to buy some time, "so invigorated, and everything seems so new, like every inch of your body is unexplored, I-" he had to laugh a little, "I can't even think of what to say, my mind's just so fixated on everything about you! God, I never want to leave your touch. I only want you to fall asleep in my arms, and I want to wake up in yours." Jake was never great with dialog, though, and after that he only recited the poetry of moans and pants, rhyme and meter perfect.
Justin couldn't wrap his arms around Jake, though he wriggled in his red ribbon restraint as the Dalmatian's spotty paws caressed him over, pressed gently against sensitive spots and soothed the thylacine shaking in abject passion. Justin had almost forgotten that his dick was still firm and leaking, wetting the fur on his and Jake's stomach.
Jake laid one more kiss on Justin's lips, then shifted in bed, turned around and faced Justin's tail. With no announcement, he grabbed the thylacine's tow big legs and pulled them toward him, leaned forward a little himself and buried his tongue inside. It was with little trepidation, little experience even, that he simply shoved his tongue haphazardly and hungrily into the hole, and the unrestrained and unpracticed enthusiasm was like a potion, so earnest was he in his efforts that even if his methods weren't the best, it was impossible not to be excited by his vigor. That, and the nice plump taint rubbing against Justin's nose. Such a dirty word for such a lovely part of the body, he'd always though. The ass bobbed in front of him, and he could see the full taint, a demonstration of the Dalmatian's arousal. He delighted to rub it against the bridge of his muzzle, to lick it, to kiss it, he practically wallowed in it. He was almost overwhelmed between the dog's hole, taint, and balls. Those signs of arousal only become more pronounced as both licked, kissed, and sucked away. The Dalmatian's taint became more plump and tender. His dick slowly regained its vitality, the knot swelling again, until it was a stiff red rod once more, even dripping its own juices onto the already soaked brown body.
His moans rolled from his lips like paper from a seismometer, and the needle had broken off. He fought his red ribbon valiantly, his dick willing the paws to latch on despite their bindings. The struggle was subconscious, every bit of awareness in him was focused on the beautiful sight before him, but his more base, instinctual, and physical thoughts just below the surface had him fighting for freedom. The two had separated like oil and water. His mind felt so peaceful, so relaxed, so content... all the while his body writhed and kicked and shook. But those struggles were ended as the Dalmatian turned around, locked his lips with Justin's in such a way that his whole body melted, then threw his wet noodle legs over his shoulders and double him over backwards.
Jake's dick, slick with pre, pressed against Justin's hole, made him utter small, curt, broken pleas. He lifted his chest to press it against Jake's, lifted his head to try and bite his ears, tried to impale himself on the dog's dick to no avail. "Hold on, sweet cheeks," he teased, holding the eager Thylacine down by the shoulers, catching his gleaming eyes and delighting himself in his wide smile. From that position he could see Justin's joy for the first time, a clear and poignant image. His eyes were wide and glittering. His mouth hung open a little, smiling wide with a soft, excited giggle. His lust wasn't desperate, it was playful. When he moaned and asked for it he said it with such light frivolity that you wouldn't believe he was serious if he didn't repeat the request a little louder and with a lick under the dog's chin. Everything about him seemed to shine with an effervescent aura of pure joy.
If Justin was bubbling like a nice, cool bottle of Diet Coke, Jake was a pack of Mentos. The Thylacine nearly erupted when the thick cock split the wet hole open and began to slide slowly in. Justin's cries bounced off the ceiling, high and shrill, flowing from his muzzle like the bursting of a damn, building in volume as each inch slipped slowly in. Jake pushed with almost surgical precision, knowing the perfect speed to go to keep the thylacine crying out, begging for the rest, trembling at the thought of the next inch, teetering dangerously between pain and pleasure. He shifted his back, grinding the dick inside him, searching for special spots, trying to ease himself around the dick, the width of which felt so much more daunting after having his nerves rattled by such electrifying teases that night. He had long abandoned any control over his body, and he was almost at risk of losing control of his throat well, as the words coming from him came so quickly and so passionately he hardly thought he'd formed them himself.
He could feel the thick bulb against his ass, held there for a moment, and at that moment, like at the crest of the first hill of a rollercoaster when you breath catches in your throat, the lovesick thylacine was speechless. The only thing that could force the loving murmurs and shouts was to pull the thick meat out quickly again and pound without discretion, and so the doggy did. As he slammed his point home, splitting the ass wide as the meaty knot threatened to penetrate at any moment, his tongue penetrated the thylacine's lips with even greater veracity, their lips locking together like Ikea furniture, the Dalmatian pushing his kisses down the thylacine's throat, attacking his lips and tongue, driving his head deep into the pillow behind him. The two pressures - the pounding against his ass, the pressing of his lips, had an almost delirious effect on Justin, almost like he could feel himself being compacted, made smaller, surrounded by the dog until, bent as he was, he felt as if he was surrounded, as if all of him was encased by the dog's passions, encapsulated by his loving acts. He felt loved, needed, secure, sexy... a million other adjectives, but put simply, every hole of insecurity he'd dug in his mind was instantly filled, every doubt he'd ever felt was assuaged, and he felt not only that the moment was perfect, but the Jake was perfect, that he was perfect, that they were perfect together.
That was when the knot pried him open and buried itself deep inside him, a spot it hadn't known in too long a time. Neither could keep their eyes open, and neither could they keep their mouths closed. Justin shouted in such urgent tones, almost burbling incoherently as his body writhed on the end of the dog's dick, twitching in transcendent glory. His cries held a steady but alarming note, increasing only in the certainty that "I'm cumming," each statement of it a pronouncement of victory of a kind. He could not stop saying it: He was on that edge for an almost torturous amount of time, and the tenor of his voice each time seemed to convey a different message. A message of surprise, a message of relief, a message of warning... each time it held a new, distinct meaning, each mention of the words serving to destroy too long a time of restlessness in their relationship. "I'm cumming," he said inelegantly, unsexily, in a way that a guy too overcome to control just how silly he sounds says the words.
"Oh, I'm cumming," the dog returned, surprising himself that he had boiled over while he had been so fixated on his boy's pleasure alone. "I'm cumming," he said as he knew nothing else to say, could not think of any words that could more perfectly sum up the unity he felt at that moment, other than to echo the words he'd heard. "I'm cumming!"
And then they came. Justin's dick shook and shot tremendous globules of white cum over his body, mixing with his fur, matting Jake's as well, draining his dick though it tapped into an unknown and impressive reserve that left both parties speechless when they would both have time to examine the scene. Jake's dick pulsed and filled the aching ass with his seed, loving the feeling of giving a part of himself, reveling in the feeling of having his pulses press against the Thylacine's spots in a way that made him grunt short, curt grunts that seemed to match perfectly each shot from his own dick.
The moment turned to minutes. The dog bent over the Thylacine, too tired to kiss, simply panting into each other's muzzle, feeling lightheaded. How long had it been since they'd knotted? How many months? It had certainly been months, at least. It was interesting, as Justin's thoughts came back to him, how the knotting was, in its own simple way, the most romantic gesture of the night. Jake, by splitting him open and tying him, had committed to spending the next half hour together while the thick knot receded. It's funny how the most subtly romantic things can be the most vulgar things, too.
They lied there together, shifting a little to find the most comfortable position for the wait. They blushed and giggled with a tinge of embarrassment, caught in that position despite their lustful desires beginning to wain, the awkwardness of the situation reminding Justin so much of their first date so long ago, when they couldn't stop blushing just from figuring out how close was too close to sit together.
"Well, um," Jake said as he bit his lip, his cheeks getting redder each moment, "I guess we're stuck like this for a little bit, huh?"
"I'm not complaining," Justin replied, lifting his head to peck a smooch on Jake's nose.