FSE

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Hey everyone!

Seems like I am being busy with ideas lately *chuckle* Maybe I'm making up with the lack of stories posted in the previous period! So, here's the new chapter, sorry for the... graphical depiction of straight sex, at least it isn't that much ^^ I hope you will enjoy it nonetheless and that you will show me that through a vote, a comment or a fave!

Thank you Gritou for being the most incredible editor and fiancé in the world!

The nightlights of the city didn't let you see the stars, only the brightest ones manage to overcome the visual pollution of Rome. And even those couldn't fight back the luminous luna piena1, so bright that it seemed like it was day, the curtain of the night not hiding anything.

So it was that night, the gibbous moon smiling from the heavens and driving off the terrors that populated the night, thanks to a cloudless sky. The moonlight washed everything with its pallore2, getting inside the bedroom from the window and highlining all the furniture in it; nothing expensive, probably bought at the IKEA, but still dignified and giving hints of how much gusto their owners had. Frames punctuated the walls, showing either replicas of famous masterpieces or collections of photos, even though the light wasn't strong enough to show that.

The bed at the center of the room, against one wall, was fair-sized, big enough to let two furs sleep in it comfortably, albeit with not much of a space; it was also sturdy, the kind of bed that could resist any weight, clearly a bed that was bought in a specialized shop, not a convenient but quite industrial made one of the Swedish superstore.

There, sprawled over the crumpled sheets, was laying Ale, his back on the wall, arms behind his head, his eyes open and lost in his thoughts. The window was open, letting a very rare refolo di vento3through, the moving air bringing some resemblance of coolness to the dog on the bed. He felt the gentle hands of Zephyr caressing his fur, every inch of it, and playing with his dormant sheath, lying there on his naked thigh.

The wind felt a bit cold there, where liquids of all kinds have coated his black and tan fur, living stains that were only now drying. But he didn't mind that, he was used to the cold, an heritage from his ancestors, he presumed. His triangular ears flicked from to time, hearing the noises coming from the bathroom, just a door away from the bed.

But he wasn't thinking about what was happening there, what Clara was doing, probably things that girls do after sex, he presumed. The rottie never inquired on those affairs, leaving the air of mystery on, or rather, not wanting to discover the gross practice of the gentler sex. Not that any of his ex girlfriends had asked him to get a culture on it, after all.

His current one hadn't expressed such a desire yet, and he hoped she wouldn't ever do so in the future. Clara didn't seem the kind of girl who wanted her special one to be involved too much in her world, knowing things that positively made the male sex cringe. That was one of the things he liked in her, the fact she knew what men were embarrassed to know and not telling that in their muzzles.

But she had plenty of good characteristics. The shepherdess was smart, and funny, and just perfect for him, going along with the rottie's jokes and easily laughing at them, not with the false accondiscenza4some girls displayed when they were with their boyfriends. Nothing was false in her, nothing at all.

His thoughts wandered, memories of the day just passed crowding his mind now. It had started well enough, them leaving for the sea at a very early hour, so to get as much of the beach as possible. They hadn't find any traffic, just the usual one of the commuters going to work; past them, the road had been free to be roamed, at any speed, thanks to it being a working day. Though, they had to be careful not to run, the via Aurelia was infamous for its many autovelox5.

They had arrived in a mostly deserted Fregene, only a few nannies with children being present on the beach, along with the many high schoolers who were in vacation. After paying the very expensive parking ticket, it was a matter of a few minutes and steps before getting to the usual stabilimento6, the one Ale had always gone since he was a pup. The fur that manned the entrance desk had been the same one for all those years, a weathered old otter named Berta; she had given him candies as a pup, and know let him in without paying full price, since he was a long time customer.

The old lady had always glared at girls when the rottie brought one, scanning for possible, visible flaws, he presumed; he thought Berta secretly wanted to hook him up with one of her granddaughters. Clara passed the judgment, if he had to go by the warm, big, toothless smile of the otter, and the gift of a sdraio7for them.

The rest of the morning had been nice, dipping in the sea as soon as they had settled their things, swimming and playing and kissing in the water, scandalizing some old ladies too, by the look of their muzzles when they went out of the water to play a bit of beach volley, still wet from the bath. They had to wait to play, since many wanted to do that, but in the end they managed, and they crushed a couple of young jocks without hardship, despite Ale's lack of talent in that sport.

After that, it was lunch time, and they ate the sandwiches they had brought from home. Nothing special, some salame8and ham for him, something lighter for Clara; but they had been yummy, and eaten quickly, so they could take a bath as soon as possible. Which they did, after a quick nap, and lay there, on the gray sand, sunbathing a bit, drying before they had driven home, with the setting sun behind them coloring everything in red and casting long shadows.

In all his fun, he had somewhat missed his friend Luca, all alone at work without his best buddy. He was sure he had a boring day, as it always was when the place missed a big rottie around; Ale had felt badly the need to send a message, warning he wouldn't be home tonight, but Clara had been awfully convincing, saying that she had prepared something very nice for the evening...

Ale shifted his position a bit, snuggling a bit lower in a more laying position, letting his arms rest on the soft bed now. His shepherdess hadn't finished her business yet, so he was still free to roam in his thoughts. The dinner had been extra delicious, nothing fancy, but she used some ingredients she had got from her grandparents in the countryside, so the flavors were really genuine.

And then... They had just finished when she jumped on him, without even giving time to take a proper shower, their fur having still salt trapped in it. Her lips had met his, a strong passion fueling the kiss, while they entangled their tongues; they had explored each other's muzzle, every corner and spot of them, bite a bit on the lips, moaning, while arousal rose in them like the marea9.

They had to stop, since it wasn't comfortable to just have sex on the chair, even if it would have been hot. They stood up, quickly, Clara giggling for what was going to happen, as she did every time; it was a bit of a habit for her. They peeled themselves from their clothes, the sheppie revealing her natural, buxom curves, her breasts firm and young; seeing that, Ale's erection got even harder than before, his steps making it slap against his thighs as they almost run to the bedroom.

Once there, they locked themselves in another passionate kiss, their bodies rubbing against each others, while they fell on the bed, Clara under the big rottie, surely feeling his hard on rubbing and smearing her stomach and ladyparts with copious pre. It didn't take long for the lust to grow too hot in them, even though it was the young lawyer who suggested to seal the deal, handing him the condom.

He had pealed it on his erection, quickly but with carefullness, his doggie hard-on being covered in plastic before it went anywhere near Clara's vagina, before it entered the moist, warm, tight part of female anatomy that needed a male part to be completed, to be filled, and...

Ale glared at his hardening cock, looking at it with anger in his eyes. It might be responging to the memories, but after that, after the actual penetration, it didn't do anything else. Sure, the rottie had managed to thrust just fine at the beginning, and had brought the moaning shepherdess to the orgasm, but it didn't do its job.

He couldn't stare any longer at it, covering the erection with the sheets, ashamed that, even if he had felt the excitation, and the pleasure, and all the feelings related to fare l'amore10, in the end he hadn't cum. And he had tried, hard, and long, but after a while his doghood had just whilthed, going back in his sheath without shooting his seed.

His ears flicked when he heard the sounds of a shower going. The athletic lawyer must have been taking a shower now, after a long and salty day. She had been extra nice, cheering him up and being fantastic and soothing, not accusing him nor making him feel bad because of that. Few girls would do that, he was sure. But, in the end, the shame remained, for him to dwell with. She had gone in the bathroom only after he assured he was okay, lying convincingly, it seems.

And the muscular male thought about it again... and again... and again. But he couldn't find a reason, any reason, why he didn't cum, despite the fact that everything was going okay, and the situation was arousing, and the way Clara moved around him had been just perfect and sexy and incredible. This problem wasn't present the first times, it only appeared that Sunday, out of nowhere, and it was biting his ass hard.

Sure he always had a lot of stamina when sex was concerned, taking a long time to unload, to the pleasure of many... well, five girls. But still, that hadn't ever been a problem, even a perk sometimes. This.. this was new, and scary, to the dog.

"What's wrong with me?" Ale asked himself, going through any possible cause for his... accident. Clara had tried a lot of things when it happened on Sunday, pleasuring him with her mouth, jerking him and so on, but nothing had happened, after a while his erection had gone away, the traitor.

They had decided he was just tired, and, after having used his tongue to releave Clara from her own pent-upness, they had just chilled out and relaxed together. The cunnilingus had been hot in itself, how his long ribbong of flesh had lapped and stimulated her most sensible parts, but in the end it hadn't even woken up the beast in his pants.

Ale tirò su col naso11, feeling so bad for the outcome of the evening. It was supposed to be his way to make up about Sunday, but in the end the result had been the same, burning defeat, that left a mark on his pride. What if that was going to be permanent? What if he was sick or something?

This kind of questions taunted his mind, and he tried hard to shoo them away, but they remained there, as horrible harpies. He was still in that mood when the water stopped, and the sound of a drier was heard, the door opening after it and revealing a towel-clad Clara, a halo of light around her figure before she turned it off.

"Are you still awake, Ale?" She asked, speaking softly in case he was deep in his sleep. Not a chance in hell of that happening, not with what was plaguing him at the moment.

"No." The rottie simply answered, and he didn't manage to conceal his inner turmoil even with that one word, sounding as awfully as he felt. The sheppie came on the bed, moving closer to him and passing an arm around his shoulder, hugging him tightly.

"You aren't okay as you told me." She accused him, though her tone was actually full of sympathy and compassion, not at all angry as it ought to be.

"No." He answered again with the two letters word, not feeling like talking more than he was needing to. He had to admit it, after all, there was no way she couldn't hear the almost whine in his voice.

She hugged him even tighter, her body pressed against his, to share her empathy and comforting him, even if that was impossible to achieve.

"It's not your fault, this kind of things happens, sometimes. We had fun, after all, and that's all that matters." The shepherdess whisphered to him softly, her muzzle near one of his triangular ears. "It's just tiredness, that's all."

"One time can be tiredness, a second one in a row can't." He bluntly said, and now he was almost near to breaking into tears here and there.

"It can be a coincidence, after all, just don't beat yourself over it." Clara persisted in her line of thought, adamant on the fact it was just a small accident, nothing else.

"I-I am, it's m-my fault after all." Ale studdered, his eyes filling with tears, one of them already trailing on his furry cheek.

"No, it isn't. It-" The feminine canine tried to say, but he didn't let her finished, in fear that she was going to accuse herself.

"I-it's not your fault, you are amazing, y-you don't have anything wrong. I-it's me that h-has a problem, a-and I would hate m-myself if you think its because of y-you." He finally confessed his fear, that the wonderful girl he had could be feeling guilty of not bringing him to his climax. He would hate to be the cause of sadness for her, to make her feel badly while it was just him, his problem, something inside him that was broken and-and-and...

The rottie couldn't word that, it was too much. He just cried, tears rolling on his cheeks, coating them and adding their own saltiness to the one left by the sea, while the marvelous girl he was lucky to be with just hugged him and rocked him, her muzzle making soothing noises and speaking calming words, in the vain attempt of making him feel better, to mend his the cracks in his pride.

Translation:

1) Full moon.

2) Pallor.

3) Gush of wind.

4) Appeasament.

5) Stationary device that reads the speed of your car, and insues a ticket if you break the limit Quite frequent on the streets and road of Italy.

6) Bathhouse.

7) Deckchair.

8) Salami. Yeah, it's strange when Americans got the right word... except for a letter

9) Tide.

10) Making love.

11) He snuffled. Yes, we use lots of words for that XD