FSE

Furry search engine

formerly SoFurry search engine

Normally, Jason's appetites ranged from the bulky to the rugged, and he seldom went for anyone who was near his age or younger. He liked men who could handle themselves, who were the sort to throw punches, drink beer and just be general rowdy guys. Trey, for instance, had been a behemoth of a bull, and had smoked. Arran was three or so years above Jason, so it wasn't that big of a deal, and that leopard knew how to fuck, and fuck hard he did.

But tonight's main course was a delicious looking Rottweiler by the name of Bradley Copperfield. Jason hadn't even approached the tight-looking canine yet, but he knew all about him. They went to the same college; Brad was a quarterback for the college team, and he was damn good at it too. Naturally, Jason had only taken a mild interest in the sport for the sake of watching muscled men battle it out on a muddy pitch wearing form-fitting gear, but he'd had an avid interest in Brad in particular. Rumours had been recently circulating that Brad had had a gay experience after a drinking game and one too many bottles of booze. In the same game, apparently his girlfriend had been cheating on him with some older dude who had a deep wallet but greying fur.

Tonight was his 'who needs women' night out, drinking with his buddies that Jason recognised were pretty much the rest of the team. They had their own table, and unfortunately it was nearer to the back of the bar, so Jason couldn't simply just pass by on a whim; any approach would be blatantly obvious. He'd never hidden his sexuality, but he'd always steered clear of those who'd cause him trouble for it. The football team would be those sorts of people.

He could see Brad now, laughing with a full chest, a big grin slapped across his face. Charlotte had been quickly forgotten about, it would seem. That feisty little Chihuahua had been bad news from the start. Jason stood fixed to the bar, keeping his head down but his eyes scanning for the bronze and black coloured dog. Soon or later, Brad would come up and order another round of drinks - he was much too proud to just let his friends buy all the alcohol for the night. The last time he'd come up to the bar, Jason was being hit on by a much older, but rotund otter gentlemen who seemed to think that fifty bucks was a worthwhile price for a very much professional ass. Otters weren't Jason's thing, and couple that with the insult to his desirability, he had to bat the man off and hide amongst a hen night group who were all too happy to have a free round of a gay fox. Jason was prowling now, and getting a little testy at tonight's failings. He'd never worked so hard for something, but Brad was a challenge, and he loved challenges. It would be a first for Jason, to get into bed with a fellow student, and another to get into bed with a sports player, especially one of such calibre.

Jason shifted suddenly, ears pricking up as he heard faint exchanges from across the room. Brad was buying the last round of drinks before the guys headed off for another club, some new joint across town with the sexiest strippers, accordingly. Jason knew the place, a certain stallion in particular that had garnered his attention. It wasn't his territory though; all the employees and 'hired help' were the ones who got the attention. He had to swoop in now for kill if he was to have any chance of scoring.

The Rottweiler shifted through the crowd with dextrous grace, leaning heavily onto the bar as he barked out an order for six more lagers. Jason felt rather silly, holding only the smaller sized, fruity-coloured drink in one paw, a chintzy cocktail umbrella sticking out from the side. It tasted somewhat faintly of pineapple and cherries, but Jason doubted whether there was any skill behind the recipe; he often found that drinks like these sold better the more brighter looking they were.

Jason cast an admiring eye over Brad. The dog certainly had it all; good looks, strong build, excellent fur. The fox would have even said that he was a pedigree by all standards, had he come from a higher-up family. But he knew Brad had lowly beginnings, and it was what drove him to achieve so greatly, even if it was only in football. Brad had a sculpted face, with a strengthened jaw and handsome cheek bones. His eyes, a subdued softened dark blue, were set fixedly in his face, balanced by the stout muzzle of his that only reach a few inches in front of him. He had a shadow of darker brown fur that lay under his bronzed portion of his jaw, giving him a very much older and mature look. A beady, black nose, slightly larger than what might have been expected, twitched needlessly as though Brad was genuinely paying attention to his surroundings. Dressed in only a barely-fitting grey polo shirt and faded jeans, he had opted more for smart-casual rather than full blown clubbing. It had always befuddled the fox as to why the Rottweiler hung around with those who might be expected to experiment with drugs and to go drinking every weekend, yet gave off the air of someone who'd take his education seriously but was always up for relaxing. A puzzle in and of itself...

"Brad?" Jason piped up, finally making his move. He acted like he was surprised, "Fancy running into you here, how're things?" It was a cumbersome way to start the ball rolling; Jason never knew anybody he slept with on a personal level, and so seldom had to ask such trivial questions. It was always easier just to flirt, wiggle his butt around, and dress up like a feminine boy and then they'd be all over him. But this was something else, and the fox wasn't entirely comfortable. He was even beginning to contemplate whether he'd bitten off more than he could chew and should probably call it quits. He didn't even know why he was going to such lengths just to sleep with someone.

"They're good," The dog answered measuredly. Jason didn't blame him, since he had attacked out of the blue, and they'd never spoken much anyway. The fox needed to change tack...

"I saw you play the other week. Congrats on the win," He hoped football would be an easier thing to talk about for the college jock, and he let himself be rewarded with a small, inward smile as Brad visibly relaxed, his muscles becoming less tensed. The Rottweiler's face crept into a wide beam,

"That was a sweet game," He grinned, eyes becoming bright as he recalled the match in his head, "I can't believe I made the final touchdown with just seconds to spare... You saw it? Did you see my touchdown?" His enthusiasm was infectious, despite Jason's lack of interest in sport,

"Yeah, I did. It was impressive. It was so tense... Everyone must be praising you non-stop." Jason hoped he'd strike a chord somewhere with the dog, and maybe that would be with Brad's success and pride,

"Well, yeah, of course they are. But they all seem to think it was all down to me; everyone forgets that there were other players on that field who I could never have won without," The bartender was back with the drinks, and he hands them over to Brad, "I can't play if I don't have any members on our team." He gives Jason a warm, gentle smile, and the fox is thrown aback. He'd taken Brad for completely the wrong person. He wasn't a jock in any manner of speaking, and he far exceeded the stereotype. Sure, he might not have been clever or bright, but he was thoughtful where it mattered and had a far softer side then the fox would've imagined. He stood there dumbfounded and somewhat at a loss as to what to do, trying to push away the nagging conscious that had found its voice now in the back of his head, "Say... you want to join us? I don't mind paying for another pint; you can come sit with me and the guys."

Jason shook his head, finally turning down the offer. Suddenly he didn't feel so comfortable exploiting the Rottweiler for sex. Before it had been a thick jock with something thicker behind his jockstrap, now it was a rather intelligent guy offering him some company and a free drink,

"No... It's alright. Not my sort of crowd," Jason could only answer truthfully, letting himself take a little solace in his excuse. For some reason he found himself relieved he hadn't lied. His game must've been way off tonight.

"Aw..." Brad whined, clearly disheartened by Jason's dismissal, "Well... I'd still like to see you later. The guys usually head off for another place to drink; if you wait around for a while outside, I'll break off and catch you."

Brad didn't even seem to want to hear the answer, whether he feared it'd be another no or if he'd forgotten Jason had the freedom of choice. The lumbering dog disappeared back into the crowd, and a few seconds later the fox caught sight of him chugging the pints with his friends again. Was he being serious? It was rather... odd, even for the fox. Had he just been picked up himself, or was he just reading way too much between the lines?

Even so, Brad was being nice enough to offer him a chance at chatting. The least he could do is wait around and see if he'll turn up and then improvise from then on. Jason cast another sneaking glance at the jocks' table. He made his mind up. He'd wait around outside for maybe ten, fifteen minutes, but on the dot he was leaving. He wasn't going to stand around in the cold to potentially be stood up by a jock that made him feel like melted goo on the inside.

Jason downed the last of his drink and made his way for the door. The odd old patron or frisky fur might catch a squeeze of his butt as he walked out, thanks to his tight jeans, but tonight he hasn't giving anything out. Perhaps not anything at all, if he'd misjudged Brad's kindly nature. He pushed open the tavern's door and let himself out into the unwelcoming brisk night air. He shivered and clutched at his arms, his clothes less than adequate for such weather. He took up his usual spot just over by the alleyway, remembering how not a week or so ago he had stood there with that bull, contemplating the night ahead that would soon be full of romping sex, or more specifically, his ass full of thick bovine meat. Maybe he should give the bull a call. Jason wasn't averse to second helpings, especially if beef was on the menu. Shame the number was back home still plastered across his buttplug. He hadn't found the time to think about transferring it into his mobile. If he got some bad luck with Brad not showing and then some good luck with Arran being home and not out nailing some fur like Jason was trying to do, then he might be able to ring up Trey and arrange another meeting. He knew all the secluded scenes of the city, and even those places where the cops turned a blind eye to as they owed Jason special 'favours'.

The door to the pub clattered open, and out stumbled several very drunk, and very rowdy looking athletes. Either they'd been thrown out or they'd gotten bored of seeing the same chicks dancing and were prowling for new flesh to gawp at before passing out in a pool of their own vomit. Jason hissed under his breath as he saw Brad follow them out, looking somewhat more dignified since he wasn't floundering about the place like the drunken idiots they were. He'd donned his football jersey, and he seemed to be looking for something.... or someone. His eyes lay upon Jason, standing further out in the corner of the courtyard, and the fox could've sworn that he'd seen a smile light up across the dog's face. It was too far to tell, and by the time the larger male had jogged over, his face was looking more sobered.

"You wanna walk and talk?" He asked, gesturing down the gently lit street that they were standing on the corner of. Jason didn't really see the point, but he nodded his head in agreement, and followed the dog alongside him as they set off. He gave another involuntary shudder, wishing he'd worn more than what he had on now, despite how alluring he'd made himself to look.

The fox felt something wrap around his shoulders, and he turned to see Brad draping his jersey over him, having taken it off and subjecting himself instead to the cold.

"Brad, it's okay... I-" The Rottweiler cut him off with a big paw, silencing him before he could further protest. Jason blushed, unaccustomed to being treated like so. It felt strangely... nice. It was the only way he could describe the feeling. Alien, but nice. He wasn't sure to what to say or do now...

"So... I know about you and the sort of stuff you do," He stated blankly. He wasn't smart, no, but neither was he dumb. Jason just assumed most people either knew or didn't care about what he did between the sheets with whichever male had taken my fancy. "You know... the sex stuff," He added for good measure, as though the fox might have misread what he said. His ears flattened, and all he could manage to squeak out was an 'oh'. Jason never really talked about what he did. It wasn't exactly dinner conversation, nor was it something that one could casually chat about, so he ended up treating it like the elephant in the room that was swept under the rug and hoped that nobody would ever inquire about. But here Brad was, asking about it, oblivious to the enormity of what he'd just said.

"Do you enjoy it?"

The question was a curve ball to Jason; did he enjoy it? He supposed in a way he must do, since otherwise he would have stopped if he didn't. Most of his tricks and hook-ups were initiated by himself if the male in question wasn't as confident as he'd like him to be. Jason couldn't deny it then that he enjoyed it. It was probably the most interesting thing about him, in all honesty. But did the fox truly enjoy it, or was he just finding something to make my life not seem as two dimensional as he knew it to be? He'd grown up sheltered by his parents, attended private schools, and done all the right things that he'd been told to do. The smaller male had jumped at the first opportunity to abandon ship and start anew, and of course being bold and daring was something he felt he _had_to do, not want to do. Was then it something he enjoyed, or something he did to lash out at his ordinary life?

"Yeah... I think I do." The fox admitted, sighing in the cold evening air. It was pretty much the best answer he could give him, and whilst he could tell by the look on his muzzle that it wasn't the answer he was looking for, he left it be for about ten minutes. During which time he and Jason made small talk about the stars or some bullshit before he dragged it up again,

"Look, do you like being with loads of guys, or do you just want the sex?" Another tricky question; the dumb jock was full of them tonight. Anxiety was bright in the Rottweiler's eyes. What was he looking for? An admission that all Jason wanted was to settle down, or affirmation that if they had sex it'd mean nothing and neither of them would get attached and have to deal with the problem later down the line? Right now, just like back at the bar, he was a guy Jason wanted to claim me. Not a boyfriend, not a date; just a hot fuck.

"I like what I like..." He responded as neutrally as possible, and he was rewarded with a low, frustrated growl,

"But do you want just one guy, or are you going to sleep with every guy you can?" Was it because of his ex-girlfriend? Was he panicking that if he slept with another and attempted a new relationship that they'd end up the same way - with him being cheated on and the other, namely Jason, sleeping around as though his ass were an all you can eat buffet? It would make sense, but he wasn't looking for a relationship. These were his prime years, and he wasn't going to waste it getting bogged down in a teenage drama. The fox wanted to explore everything he could, and make up for lost time.

"I don't know what I want, Brad. I'm just taking each day as I can and making the most of it. I'm not-"

Jason's annoyance was silenced as the Rottweiler planted his lips against his. The scent of booze was light, though present, and it swam through Jason's senses as he felt the insistent rasping tongue of the dog flick at his mouth. With shy hesitation, blushing a dark scarlet, he opened up for the Rottweiler to enter, the tongue seeking out and locating the smaller tongue, challenging it into a duel as they made out. Jason closed his eyes as now the dog's paws were thrown into the mix; they stroked along his sides and cupped his buttocks, caressing with a strange passion that Jason would almost have associated with love were it not for the fact his mouth was stuffed full of canine tongue. Instead he let himself be carried away by the motions, letting himself fall into the swing of the dog's embrace as his own paws began to work across the tight muscles that resided in the Rottweiler's small of his back. The kiss was broken rather lazily after they'd swapped saliva, and now Brad had that heady look in his eyes, plastered over the anxiety of before. It would seem like he'd given up on justifying himself and had given in.

"My place is just over there..." The dog uttered, groaning as he pressed himself against the small fox. Jason looked back over his shoulder; just another campus-owned apartment block. Not many of the lights were on, so it looked like a dull night was being had over there - the perfect place for sneaky midnight romping. Following Brad's quick step, they hurried over across the road and let themselves inside. There was very little messing around. Brad was already shooting off up the stairs just as Jason pushed the door shut, and the fox had to sprint up after him to keep pace. The place didn't look that bad, though most of the furniture looked like it belonged in an Ikea catalogue. Brad busied himself as Jason was left to get his bearings; a light was switched on, and the fox got the first proper look at how Brad lived.

The place had a bland design, whereby the furniture looked inexpensive and well used - Jason could see it had gotten to the point that the coffee table, seemingly doubling up as a dining table too, had been propped up with a bit of folded cardboard to prevent it from wobbling. In fact, Brad seemed to be living off a diet of microwaveable ready meals and lager, only supplemented by the protein shakes that he had seen the dog take whenever he'd been working out. Suffice to say there was too much rubbish for just one guy, and Jason could either assume that Brad was an even messier jock than the stereotype might have depicted, or someone else lived here with him.

"Can I get you anything?" Brad called from the kitchen, things clanging about as probably his large size negotiated something far smaller than what was intended to take.

"Anything to drink?" It was the usual custom. Jason knew it made things easier and was a typical ice breaker when neither of them knew what to say or do. A drink of anything, even water, made things go smoother.

"Uh..." There was a violent bang and the sound of glass clinking, the unseen dog having yet more trouble with his kitchen, "Flynn's up at his parents' for his grandmother's wake, so we haven't got much in." He emerged from the kitchen's doorway holding two dainty cans in his paws, and upon registering Jason's bemused yet blank expression, he felt compelled to explain, "Flynn usually buys the groceries and stuff. I just give him rides to places since he's not allowed to have a licence." He held up the drinks for inspection, "Is diet lemonade good enough?" The fox gave a shrug of his shoulders and accepted the can, snapping the top open,

"It's fine..." He took a short, sickly sweet sip of the overly fizzy liquid that sounded more like it had rabies than mere gas escaping before waiting for Brad to finish his all-in-one gulp. It was mesmerising to watch the dog's thick neck as he took huge swallows, the Adam's apple bobbing up and down beneath the taut skin. Jason licked his lips, wondering how it might feel beneath his rasping tongue, trailing lower and lower until...

Brad let out a solid belch, the sound rippling and grotesque. It faintly stank of mild booze, and Jason scrunched his nose as the aroma wafted across his muzzle. The dog put on his best apologetic face, and with genuine remorse in his voice spoke up sheepishly,

"Sorry..." Jason chuckled, even though it was out of his character. It was cute to see the big dog actually trying to be polite and charming. Jason had never found that in a guy. It was always look at my guns, or I bet I could blow your mind away, or how about we find somewhere quiet and we'll see if we can't get you _onto_something more comfortable. Terrible dirty clichés; and Jason would always go for them because they were easy. But he'd never considered someone would try and seduce him rather than flaunt what they had and hope for the best.

"It's cool, only natural," He quipped, hoping to cut the tension, but it seemed to be about as thick as how Jason imagined the Rottweiler's abs. Even Brad himself seemed keen on making things even more awkward than they were before,

"So, how do you want to do this?"

"Do what?" Jason drawled, asking with a gradation of hesitation and scepticism in his voice.

"You know... have sex. How do you want this to go?"

"Calm down, Brad," Jason sighed, rubbing his temple, "There's no major difference between straight and gay sex. It's not like we're a different species," Brad raised his eyebrows, elicting a growled smirk from the fox, "Figuratively speaking, that is. It's the same thing as with women, except there's no 'Slot A', so you have to go with whatever's left, which is the ass. All girls have them too, shockingly, and I'm sure you and Penny often visited the backdoor once or twice though you wouldn't admit it." A dark blush swept across the dog's muzzle, and Jason let loose an empty sigh, "Just let things happen. Don't force it; don't act like this is any different. Pretend I'm just an everyday girl and I'll handle myself."

"So... Just be spontaneous?" Brad asked, with his tone curious, scheming. The fox shrugged,

"Well, yes, that would work bu-" Jason was silenced by the quick, cliché move of kiss the girl when she's distracted. He blushed, feeling Brad's large, heavy paw do its best to cup the side of his face gently, caressing the smooth amber fur of his cheek as their muzzles met. His leathery lips parted slightly, and a thick tongue played entrance at Jason's mouth, slowly pushing its ways inside and not taking 'no' for an answer. Jason melted under its power, letting it swim its way up to his own tongue before coiling around it, taking it into its grasp. A hot, heady scent and taste filled him, not quite as earthy as he was accustomed to, but strong all the same. It had the hint of alcohol to it, but it was all overlaid with rich tones of molten goodness that drew upon his senses. It tantalised him, ensnared his attention like nobody else had before I made him wild.

Brad groped along Jason's sides, his heavy paws running down his slender arms and finding the hem of shirt. It was a blind, drunken fuddle but eventually he peeled the top upwards, breaking the kiss momentarily to throw aside the shirt. Both of them sucked in a lungful of air before attacking, their lips mashed together and tongues writhing. Gone now was the barrier of awkwardness; they knew what they were going to do, and they were going to let it happen. Jason threw off the iconic team jersey that Brad and everybody else wore and then went for the t-shirt. It was clearly not the dog's size, but it hugged his torso so finely and cast soft shadows where his muscles bulged. It took a little fiddling, but the fox's fingers dug under where cloth met skin and tore it upwards. Brad's toned, black and brown tan body came into view, and as his chest was bared, Jason broke away from the kiss. The shirt was thrown aside to join the jersey as the fox's lips made their way downwards, fluttering and nibbling along the sinewy muscle of Brad's nape. He came to the bulging barrel of a chest, taking one nipple in between his teeth as his tongue darted over the very tip. His free paw sought out the neglected twin, and gingerly he fine-tuned Brad's attention, making him yip, gasp, and moan until his body was shaking. Firmly, two paws eventually clasped his sides, and Jason was lifted away from his torturous deed,

"Bedroom... Now..." Brad panted, clear need in his voice as a sizable bulge weighted out the crotch of his pants. The Rottweiler herded Jason off to his room, slamming the door shut behind him and latching onto the slender male within an instant. Jason stumbled over a pair of boots that had been strewn across the floor, and he collapsed butt-first onto the unkempt queen sized bed. With their lips locked once again, the fox wrought his tense paws over the dog's body, rubbing over the firm flesh of his buttocks and kneading them in fervency. Brad fumbled with his pants, hastily trying to pull them off as he felt the horny fox's paws roam freely and rampantly. He could feel the fingertips digging into the pert fuzz of his cheeks, and frantically he freed himself of his trousers, and taking it upon himself he improvised and tugged Jason's jeans down from him too. It shocked him though when his eyes fell upon the sight of the fox in women's panties, but they fit him so snugly and looked so hot he didn't question the ethics of gender. Jason could wear what the fuck he wants so long as he got laid tonight. They were a pale lilac, and contrasted against his stark white boxers. Brad's toying fingers though could not sit still, and soon he found himself wrapping his digits around the thin waistband and easing them downwards, pulling them free off of Jason's footpaws. The smaller male's member was already erect, the vulpine knot slick with pre and his length an admirable size for his stature. Brad gave the cock a few testing strokes, teasing the fox as he pushed the panties against his nose; if he closed his eyes and forgot about the rigid meat throbbing within the grip of his paw, he could almost swear that they smelt how a girl's should. He was enraptured by the rich scent, and he ignored the whining moans of Jason who squirmed as the dog's big paw ground over the sensitive dick. It was a vivid sensation, and even when the Rottweiler drew his attention back he still carried on dragging his paw pads along the knot.

The fox was soon panting, driven wild and begging for release, but each time he came close Brad would stop, and change tack. When he saw that Jason was about to shoot, he suddenly moved to squeezing and rolling his balls, forcing that climax to die down and dwell deep within him. It was a torturous process, and he was kept firmly fixed in place beneath the dog by the heavy weight. He could writhe as much as he liked, but it was a futile attempt. Brad had him pinned to the bed, and eventually he finally removed the final article of clothing. The fox had little time to take in the jock's size, but he did catch sight of the member; it was just as bold as he'd imagined, with thick veins running along its side that bulged angrily with the trapped blood. It was mammoth sized, just how the fox loved them, but it was the knot that blew him away. The length itself was thick, but it was the knot that was the centrepiece. It looked to be three, maybe four times as big as any fist, and Jason swore that he could have brought a melon in with him and the melon would have been smaller. Part of him was scared at the thought of taking it, and he wondered if any fur, male or female, had ever taken it before. It was sad to say that sometimes some furs just were too big, even for those into extremes. Still, it wouldn't deter Jason from trying...

His mind was drawn back to the matter at hand. The Rottweiler must've known what he was doing, because each time he came close the dog would let him fall lax again. He expertly guessed when the peak would almost hit, then instantly calm down the raging cock until the orgasm was but a whisper on a long off horizon. Jason whined and whimpered pathetically like a cub, desperately yearning for his release. All he wanted right now was to get off; if that meant impaling himself onto Brad's behemoth and even taking the knot, then fine, he'd do it. He just wanted to cum, and to cum so badly...

It was about twenty, maybe thirty minutes later when Brad had had enough of teasing. He took the copious amounts of pre from the vulpine's cock and smeared it along his own shaft. There was so much of it he might have thought the fox had already blown his load were he not in total control of the situation. Jason's eyes were lidded, his body senseless to the world as its pleasures had become too much. He groaned absently, feeling the dog's paws lift back his legs, preparing to ride him missionary style. Lifting his head, Jason managed to glimpse the fattened head of Brad's prick readying itself to push into him, dripping with his own seed. His mouth hung open, air sucked out as he felt the first flare of intrusion radiate through his abdomen. It was uncomfortable at first, with barely any time to warm up or with any lube, and he gritted his teeth as the Rottweiler continued to gradually push more and more into him. He wanted to shout out to stop, to get him to ease off, but Jason knew if he did he wouldn't be able to take anything at all. He'd be too sore, too cautious and wary of the pain. It was the bandage effect - just rip it off and get the agony over with and then enjoy the ride.

When he felt the rigid mound of flesh that was Brad's notorious knot, Jason breathed a sigh of relief. The most painful part was over, until he would have to deal with that bulbous flesh. Maybe the curious Brad might not want to tie a dude, or maybe by the point it came to actually knotting him he'd have been loosened up and ready for him. The Rottweiler leant down, pushing those legs as far back as the fox would allow, and began to pummel his hole. He was slow at first, though powerful and steady; it was similar to a piston in some machine, warming up from first being switched on. Gradually, as it picked up speed and the passage became smoothed and slick to that oversized member, that piston then furiously worked its way in and out of Jason. Its speed was unrelenting, almost unbearable. Brad showed incredible stamina and prowess, his muscles shifting and rippling in the half-light whilst he pushed his full weight into the fox's rump. The dog's mouth hung open, his eyes closed as he felt that tunnel suck and pull over his cock, dragging him deeper with each thrust. Jason had done this before and often enough to be an expert at taking all sizes and with eagerness. The head would smack and roll against a small button inside the smaller male, causing him to grunt and moan, his already overly sensitive manhood twitching with ribbons of pre. Jason showed remarkable self-control, instead holding his cheeks apart for Brad's better purchase rather than to jack himself off wildly in the throes of sex.

They locked tongues again, duelling once more with a new battle now occurring down below with Brad's sword impaling Jason. They wrestled against each other's muzzles, swapping saliva and groaning against one another. It was a distraction though, and increasingly Jason's whines and cries of bliss became louder, more pained. That swollen knot was now reaching its fullest potential, and the thought of taking it was an intimidating one. But the fox couldn't beg not to take it, for his voice was trapped behind the dog's tongue, the muscle wriggling and writhing against his own. His eyes were clenched, grunting through the pain as he felt his rim give in a little more with each short pounding ram. It wouldn't be long now, not until he gave in and allowed him entrance. Accepting that this was to happen, and he might as well enjoy it while he could, Jason let go of any resistance he felt he had left, abandoning the attempts of milking Brad's piston-cock dry and letting him do as he wished. It was just enough for the Rottweiler to nearly suffocate the fox with his tongue, muffling the agonising yelp as he finally slammed that knot home, burying it within the folds of the fox's abused hole. Jason was on edge; his body bristled with electricity, unable to choose whether the bloated fullness he'd never experienced quite so before was a good or bad feeling. He was on the brink still, but the knotting hadn't been enough to send him over into a state of orgasmic bliss. He just hoped that the dog's seed would be enough, the heat pouring into his guts and filling him more. So he waited, clenching his hole and unclenching it as his eyes were wide, strung open with a fixed shock.

But Brad had other plans... Having taken the knot once, he pressed more leverage against the fox's ankles, forcing his ass to move away from his lap where they were tied together. Jason writhed and moaned, whimpering as he felt the knot tug against his stretched and puffed rim. Brad grinned and drooled at the sight as slowly, painstakingly slowly, the knot came back into view. Millimetre by ball lurching millimetre that red bulb began to show; it took all of the dog's endurance not to cum right then and there. The fox was surprisingly limber, and could accommodate him well. He hadn't had a girlfriend who'd ever taken him as fully before and not bitched about it or chickened out, but here was a guy who might as well have been a girl for all Brad cared, and he was moaning in the sensations, drinking it in. He was actually enjoying it, and letting the dog take advantage of the situation too. With a lewd, slick slurp of the fox's natural lubricant and spit the knot popped back free, and Brad heaved his hips back until only his tip remained kissing that begging hole. He gave a sordid wink to the fox, a subtle gesture that he ready himself for the impact, before throwing his weight forwards, sending his knot ploughing straight back into its velvety home again. The feel of ramming himself so deeply into something warm and living was an act he seldom encountered, and he loved it now.

Beneath the heavy weight of the Rottweiler, Jason could only grope at his own cheeks, holding them apart and feeling the sheer force as Brad's crotch smacked against his cleft. He swore he could feel himself mould around that knot, each time the dog drew back only to slam forward again, and he watched as his abdomen bulged with the sheer size. It was impossible to think he was actually taking something he thought he'd eventually turn down, but here he was defying his own judgement and taking what felt like an anvil up the ass. Yet he was only moaning for more, crying out Brad's name and huffing, his orgasm edging ever closer with each brutal tie. He counted each thrust as his balls drew up against his body; one... two... three... four...

Then it became too much. He had starved himself off for as long as he dared, been subjected to a cruel teasing and edging, and then dealt with being fucked by a giant knot attached to a hunk with skills in the sack... Jason couldn't remember when he'd cum so much in his life. His mind whirled and almost passed out from the intensity, thick streams of fox seed spraying across his chest and face, dripping down his chin. He couldn't care to count how many jets he managed to spew forth until the flow died down, but when it did; his usual chest of white was now coated with a gooey sheen that tinted it in a cloudy cream.

Brad bellowed at the top of his lungs, back arched as his hips thrown forwards. For the final time the knot burrowed into the hole that felt like it had been made for him, and he let loose the torrents of saved up cum that he'd been saving off. Charlotte had been a prude, and the dog could never get any pleasure from the simple acts of oral or handwork... It took the living touch, the envelope of flesh along his member to send him into a climax, and with Jason he came harder than ever before, matching if not with power but with volume of the fox, perhaps even more. He felt his seed gush and wash around his cock, squelching and oozing out around the rim where the knot ended towards his sheath. He was covered in a fine film of sweat, panting breathlessly from actually having worked himself to a tired exertion. He looked down upon the spent fox as he regained his breath, their closeness now recognised with the final permanent tie. He looked so hot and cute like that, attached to him in such a submitting way, and covered with his own spunk. Brad leant down again, this time scooping up some of the cum that dripped down from Jason's elegant chin and onto his nape, letting it pool and collect in his maw before he took Jason's lips back into his own. The taste was sweet, and had the consistency of caramel as he let it slide down into the fox's mouth, making him sample his own produce. Together they shared an intimate kiss, fox jizz covering their muzzles as they pushed the juices between them, resting against one another and waiting for Brad's knot to deflate enough to be removed...

Not that it would deflate any time soon, that is.