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It all started with the most innocent of things: a kiss goodbye. It hadn't been a great kiss, just a typical peck on the lips from a couple in a stale relationship. It was more automatic than romantic at that point.

I offered an equally automatic smile as the cougar closed the door of my truck behind him and headed towards his apartment door. Two years of dating and we still lived across town from each other. That should have given me enough of a fucking clue as to where things were headed on it's own. I sighed and started back towards my house; a route that I had driven so many times that it allowed my wandering mind to do what it did best.

Maybe my friends were right, and John was just using me as a convenient way to pay for some expenses and to get a little tail on the weekends (and occasional weeknight). I've always had self-confidence issues, you see. I know damn well I'm fairly cute looking. I know I'm smart, and I know I got a good job, but it doesn't translate into real world confidence when it mattered. As I pulled into my driveway and grabbed the leftovers from the restaurant I noticed something.

He'd left his phone sitting in my cupholder. The urge to look through his recent texts was strong, and immediate. That had never been something I would do, ever. The air was different last night, though. Maybe it was the bored look on his face while we were out to eat. Maybe it was the fact that it was barely eight in the evening and I was back home alone already. I keyed the ignition off and grabbed the slim black phone from its resting place.

I'm not a huge believer in fate, but it doesn't mean I'll ignore an obvious in-my-face omen like what happened next. The phone vibrated, and I just about dropped it into my lap in surprise. If John was around he'd have laughed and made a jab about my spazzy border collie tendencies.

I slid a paw pad across the screen and, much to my surprise, the phone wasn't even locked. The new message was from Tim Flynn, the jockish type ferret that John was always hanging around. Old high school buddies I think, but I wasn't exactly sure on that. That wasn't important, anyway. What was important is what Tim sent.

Hey, we still on?

Still on? Still on for what? Fucking? Hanging out? Well, maybe I could try scrolling up, I figured in a moment of genius. For a second, just a second, I immediately regretted doing what I was doing. It didn't look good. Lots of saucy messages, lots of flirting, then one in particular caught my eye.

So what if he finds out? First, he won't. Second, he's too much of a pussy to do anything about it anyway. He ain't gonna go find another man. He's too attached to me. His shy ass probably couldn't get any anyways.

It took a few moments, maybe a few minutes, for that to sink in and really hit me. The flirty messages and possible hookup talk and all that really didn't get me burned up like it probably should have, which is a little weird because my suspicion of exactly those types of texts was what drove me to look in the first place. No, that didn't get me, though. What fucking got me was John's cavalier assumptions about what I would and would not do. What if he'd been doing this for months, though? What if he'd been doing it all along, like my friends seemed to think? Maybe I really had been too much of a pussy to see that, or speak up.

My white paws barely were able to hold onto the phone, and I didn't even pay attention to the fact that the interior of the car was getting hot (despite the setting sun) as I waited inside it. Was John insane? He depended on me to help support himself, he needed me.

I was sick. Sick because in just an instant all my worst nightmares about my relationship had come to fruition. Sick because someone who'd I'd dedicated two years of my life and countless paychecks to took all of that completely for granted. Most of all, though, I felt sick because the dark corners of my over active mind were bursting at the seams with countless revenge scenarios.

That was it, then, I figured as I finally left my car and walked to my house incoherently. Well, something was it. I didn't have any plan, just knew that John was going to see just exactly how wrong he was. If I just dumped him he'd be screwed, but that wasn't quite good enough for me.

As I got inside my place and tossed the offending phone towards the nearest couch I felt myself grinning. He said I couldn't get any. I bet I could. Fuck that, I knew I could. I stopped my frantic pacing for a moment, enough to calm my brain train down to a level where I could think. Maybe I should just bust out the bottle of wine in the cupboard, put some sad music on, and deal with this kind of thing like I always had.

That's exactly what I did for about half an hour and a glass and a half of Merlot. Then it hit me. I could do something truly nasty. I could get back at that little shit in a way he'd never see coming. I could show him that my 'shy ass' can 'get some'.

*

The place was perfect for what I had in mind. An unpaved, gravel parking lot set the tone. The building itself was dated, with old neon signs and a faded red or maroon paint job. Parked out front was not one, but two rows of motorcycles. These weren't the plastic looking import crotch rockets that some of my friends had. These were those obnoxious sounding types that attracted both true badasses and mid-life-crisis-suffering husbands looking for an escape.

"Cocked", the wooden sign above the door read, which was swaying slightly on its hinges. Below the lettering was an image of an old six-shooter, with the hammer cocked back and a wisp of smoke coming from the barrel.

I was half expecting to get turned away at the door. I suspected that as a skinny border collie who was more furry fluff than body I wasn't going to fit in at all with the clientele. Two steps into the place I knew; I was right. The air was smoky, and the lights dim.

There were a lot of eyes on me. The gazes came from all directions; from dark corners and behind clouds of cigar smoke. Smirks and smiles were flashed at me, along with a few subtle head nods. Every one of these guys looked big, and scary, and rough. I'm sure most of them were perfectly nice, but it didn't feel that way.

Halfway to the bar I felt my legs get a little shaky as doubt clouded my mind. There was no way I was going to do this, was I? I looked straight ahead at the large black cat of a bartender. He was looking right back at me with arms folded and brows raised. The door was just as far away as the bar, and I couldn't muster the courage to do the cowardly thing and leave.

So with a deep breath of a pep talk I made a beeline for an empty stool and sat down on it.

"What'll ya have?" said the bartender. Up close he was even more intimidating. This guy was big, and he made sure to sport a tank top to show everyone. White fur was creeping in around his muzzle, which I had to admit looked pretty good on him. His big blue eyes were studying me, probably trying to figure out if I knew what I was doing in his bar, or if he should politely warn me off.

"Give me a rum and cola."

Ordering the drink broke the ice, at least in my mind, and I started to scan the confines of that dive of a bar looking for candidates. I didn't want some random guy, I wanted at least two fellas. There were plenty of obvious couples; mostly off in booths having private conversations. The ones who looked at me with interest got marks right off the bat.

Turns out that was all for naught. As I finished making the 360 in my barstool I stopped. Standing right in front of me were two guys, a coyote and a black bear. The yote smiled. "Why don't you come have a seat with us?"

This could be it, I thought. The coyote looked straight out of a western movie. I mean, he was gorgeous: boots, vest, cowboy hat, tall, devious smile... all that was missing was a sheriff's badge and a revolver. Yotes always looked good in Western getup, something about that mottled colored fur and cocky attitude.

The bear looked, well, he looked like a bear. He had a halfway smoked cigar in his mouth (what is it with bears and cigars, anyway?) and already, only ten seconds into knowing these guys, he came off as the quiet sort.

My first instinct was to protest, to tell them that I was waiting on a drink. That excuse disappeared with the clink of a glass on the wooden bar, and a "go on and join them, I'll send the bill over" from the bartender.

My tail subconsciously found its way partway between my legs as eyes from all directions followed me towards the dark corner as I trailed the two men who had just, for lack of a better phrase, claimed me.

They both took one side of the booth, and I took the other. In the middle of the table was a half-eaten plate of nachos; piled high with meat and cheese and peppers. It was flanked by dirty napkins and glasses that still bore the aftermath foam of former beer.

"I'm Kyle," the yote said as he tipped his cap with a finger and then nodded to the bear on his left. "That's Dale, my partner." I nodded nervously, fidgeting with my hands in my lap. "So, who are you and what brings a cute little border collie like you into a place like this?"

Spurting out my actual semi-psychotic revenge plot probably wouldn't be the best idea. I gathered myself and took a big swig of my drink. "Just...looking for something out of my comfort zone."

They looked at each other, doing one of those silent couple-type communications. John and I did that all the time; we always knew what the other was thinking. I bet he wasn't thinking that I was at a skuzzy gay biker/bear bar, though.

Dale leaned forward as took a puff of the musty smelling cigar. "You sayin' what I think you're sayin', kid?"

I was, and the next half hour of drinking and flirting and touching was just leading up to the inevitable.

*

The bedroom was on the messy side, but probably not nearly as bad as my own was. It wasn't as if these two were anticipating company tonight, anyway. It smelled just like you'd imagine. I got whiffs of sheets that probably needed to be washed, and male, and stale sex.

The whole plan that I had thought up earlier was about to be executed. At this point I couldn't have realistically turned back, anyway. Here I was, bent over some strange couple's bed. Kyle was standing behind me, and I could hear the yote slicking himself up with lube. Dale, for his part was sitting inches from my muzzle. That strong, manly musk coming from the bear was sending my nose into overload.

"C'mon boy, it ain't gonna bite you."

I felt my ears flatten black against my head as Dale spoke to me. My head was flush with wonderful feelings of submission to the two strangers. I'm not gonna lie, I got into this for revenge and spite, but the thought of these two guys about to stuff me from both sides? Intensely hot.

Dale didn't seem to be as interested in taking in the moment as I was, however. A meaty paw found its way toward the top of my head and delivered an anxious, though not aggressive, tug. I leaned forward and lowered my long snout the rest of the way towards that thick piece of meat.

Leaning forward like I was had the secondary effect of presenting my backside invitingly to Kyle. As my nose brushed the sensitive flesh that was in front of me I felt a paw brush under my tail. I didn't dare look back, nor could I really with Dale's grip on my head. I gave the shaft an exploratory lick, and as the unmistakable taste hit me any hesitation I had evaporated.

I opened my maw and took the head in, careful to shield Dale from my sharp teeth. The bear sighed happily, and I probably would have replied with a wag if my tail hadn't suddenly found itself gripped firmly at the base. Hell, even the surprise of that was soon a thing of the past as I felt something cool and wet press against my ass. The lubed up fingers didn't waste much time sneaking their way into me, and if I had any thoughts about being distracted they vanished with just a slight flexing of Dale's paw into my headfur.

It was a bit hard to relax back there with all that was going on, but I closed my eyes and lowered my muzzle slowly down. Dale certainly was thick, but it wasn't too much of an effort before my nose was buried in his crotch fur. I'd always been a sucker for an appropriately musky guy, and Dale was pure heaven from that standpoint.

Kyle withdrew his fingers, and my ears swiveled at the slick sounds coming from behind me; I knew what the yote was doing, and the few seconds it took for him to get lubed up seemed to take forever. I could sense the male lining up behind me before I could feel the canine tip stabbing at my entrance. Once again my tailbase was gripped as Kyle tried to get a good angle into me. I gave him a little help by straightening my legs up and getting on my toes a bit more.

The good effort on my part was rewarded by a slight burn from the sudden intrusion of Kyle's cock. I let out a muffled whine as the coyote kept pushing forward. I winced and returned my attentions to what was in front of me. I pulled my head back and lapped at the bear's swollen head a few times, and then nuzzled my way down to his fuzzy scrotum. That got me a "good pup" out of the bear.

The initial burn was exchanged for a satisfying, full feeling as I got used to Kyle. Dale bumped the head of his cock on my nose as a way of letting me know to get back to work. I did.

Things started to settle into a rhythm as Kyle started fucking me proper. The room was filled with the sounds of sex: panting, pushing, some bed squeaks, and wet noises. Right in the middle of it was me.

Nothing I had ever done had felt so filthy, or so amazing. For a few minutes I forgot the entire twisted reason I'd had for getting into this situation. I forgot I even had a boyfriend. Shit, I forgot who I was, other than a complete bitch to the two men who were filling me from both ends.

I wanted to cry out in pleasure, but couldn't muster anything more than a pathetic grunt. My hips pushed back against the coyote's and my tongue made sure not a drop of pre escaped my muzzle.

Kyle was gonna cum first. I could tell by the way he was grabbing at my fur and by his ragged grunts gasps. "Rrrf, here it comes, bitch." He'd taken care to keep the knot away from my hole, except for the occasional teasing bump. That's why when he shoved it home with a growl it was so shocking to me. A split second of pain and then the amazing feeling of a spurting, pulsing cock knotted deep inside me.

Maybe seeing his partner climax triggered something in Dale, because before I had much of a chance to process what was going on behind me I felt two strong paws grab my floppy ears. Thick, bitter cum filled my maw almost faster than I could swallow it as the bear emptied his balls.

The cock in my maw flopped out and against my cheek as I panted heavily; looking up at the couple lock in a kiss over my well-used body. Hell of a night.

*

I smirked as I finished writing out the cummy, dirty details of last night's escapade. This was going to be perfect. I wasn't going to just tell John about it, or even just write it all out. I was going to post the whole account up on the internet (with a link sent to John, of course). The thought of random other guys jacking it to my breakup... kinda hot.

Maybe I'd regret this. In fact, I knew I'd regret it, eventually. For tonight though, I was going to revel in my dark genius.