FSE

Furry search engine

formerly SoFurry search engine

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Classic cover art is today by kensukethecat - ohhh yes!

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Hello there!

To launch of the celebratory season of commemorating 3 years of The Hockey Hunk, I am today posting this, a reworked version of the very first chapter, expanded with further details on the fateful meeting at The Ramrod, to give us a better grasp on where it all started. I have gone through the entire original text, added things, polished it, and expanded several sections where I was quite...brief in the original. I do not try to make assessments whether it is superior to the original, for that works as its own piece of writing, of course, but I wanted to see what it'd be like, as if I was writing this story from the beginning, with the knowledge of what would come next.

For when I did write the very first chapter all that time ago, I had no idea what would happen...and that is fantastic, and scary, and great, and...all sorts of many interesting things.

Thank you for the three years, I hope you enjoy this, and I look forward to hearing your opinions!

Have a good read!

*

I'd just gotten my gin and tonic when I really first noticed him. He was sitting on the bar counter here at the Ramrod, about twice the size of a small fox with a pink shirt who was sitting next to him. Judging by the smaller guy's manner, he was expecting to get it hard and heavy under his dyed tail by the time the night was through. That guy was probably going to deliver, too. He looked tough enough. Lucky little fox.

I wasn't really looking for anything tonight. I just wanted to get a quiet drink in peace. Not caring to try to find a a lay or someone to shake my tail with. Sometimes it was just nice to have a drink or two and sit there without any fear of being singled out as a faggot. I suppose I didn't exactly look like someone who drew that kind of attention, but I knew how it was, the looks, the whispers and the flattened ears that told you they weren't going to accept you was who you are. Trying to sit with a boyfriend in a bar or a club and show any kind of affection...in your dreams, even in a relatively enlightened place like the Kirk City. Those fuckers back at the bookstore today had been proof enough.

It might've been a bit too queer here for my comforts, yeah, what's with this music playing, and with those leering leather daddies leering at my ass nearby from their dark corner of the shop, but at least a few tail gropes and slurred drunken comeo-ons were preferable to waved fists or a yelled FUCK OFF YOU FAG!

I sipped from my gin and tonic and sighed at its familiar juniper tang. It was a safe choice...not that I knew too many drinks, either. Most of the names on the little chalkboard listing tonight's specials were either foreign to me or composed of terrible puns like "Virgin Slipknot" or "The Tush Twister", strange enough.

The guy was having a beer. He was rather fun to look at, from the sidelines. I might've been more into felines, but he did draw my eyes. A canine of that size and having muscle definition of the sort of he was showing, with that collared shirt out of which thick arms spilled, and those shoulders...nice...very nice. He was definitely a looker alright...not the gym rat type...heavier...not a bodybuilder...but handsome alright. Bulky. Thick. Nice.

My tail looped about nicely behind me, my ears continuing to flick around to the familiar Pet Shop Boys piping through the club music system, and I wondered whether I should stay in for another drink after I'd finished up with the one I had no. I was already feeling better...watching the goings-on...little guy on guy seduction...different body types...an appreciative wink or two...a grope, a pat...nobody had done anything like that to me tonight, but it wasn't compulsory. I was enjoying myself none the less. Just a little quiet time in a peaceful environment...well...peaceful in a good sense. A safe zone in a world where such places shouldn't even need to exist, but we were so stupid that they were compulsory, if you wanted to hold onto your teeth.

I heard the fox exchange a few more words with the big Dobie, quiet rumblings I couldn't quite pick up, but then the fox hopped off from his bar stool, landed on springy little paws and swished away, leaving just the two of us onto the bar counter. The Doberman rubbed his muzzle and picked up his beer, and then he looked at me. Our eyes met and I gave him a small nod and kept my ears still for it, and he gave me another nod in return, this Big Dobie's ears flicking, too. I decided to give him a small extra cat smile, but he just...gave me that nod and that was it. I returned to my drink, knowing that we had now acknowledged each other. I tried to start to listen to the music again...not really my type of music, but hey, it was a gay bar, what should I have expected, the Greatest Hits of Ozzy Osborne?

The bar stool next to me creaked, and glancing over, I realized that the Dobie had just jumped seats and now occupied the one where the fox had sat between us earlier, now reducing the space between us. His paw was holding onto his beer, and he then put into a coaster on the counter. I nodded again.

Hey."

His voice was kind of gruff and imposing, and he spoke with his ears as much as with his voice. Those big, perky floppers moved all the time, it seemed, flicking towards whatever source of noise he might find himself interested in. His canine antennas turned towards me, too, and I smiled a little again.

"Hello," I said.

"Slow night eh?" he rumbled, paw on his cold beer.

"Yeah, pretty much," I mused, took a sip of my drink and remembered to secure my tail around the shiny leg of the bar stool to make sure I didn't poke the Dobie with it. My co-worker Marge kept nagging to me how my tail sometimes wandered to her ankles and gave her a scare...maybe she wasn't entirely unappreciative of that, though.

Somehow he didn't look like he wanted any unasked pokings on his person.

"Talk about it," I said, smiling politely still.

"Still pretty cold, though."

"I suppose it is," I said, "still need my thicker coat."

If he wanted to chit-chat...sure, why not? Better than sitting here wallowing in booze and miserable work.

"Even with that fur?" he noted, looking up and down at me.

"Do I look that fluffy to you?" I asked, raising a brow.

"A little," he replied, "you've got a thick mane."

"Thanks," I smiled a bit more now, a bit more cheerful, I guess.

"Wish the city did a better job about winter upkeep, though," he said, suddenly.

"Huh?" I wasn't sure where he was going at.

"The roads suck," he grunted.

That started sounding like my dad..or my mom, for that matter, because she had to drive around a lot for her job...the Sheriff of Rome...hah...

"Oh?" I said.

"You don't drive?" he questioned.

"Don't have a car," I replied. "Do have a license, though."

"Some idiot hit the brakes hard on the circular last week and shot some grit onto my windscreen," the Doberman said, "I had to replace it. Cost me a fortune."

"Ouch," I grumbled. "That's stupid."

"Yeah," he huffed. "It sucked. Glad I got it fixed quickly, though. Had to take the bus for a couple of days."

"It's not so bad," I said, feeling like I had to defend my mode of commute, if only a little, towards this hardcore private car owner.

"Even had to skip gym because I couldn't fit it into the bus schedules," he said.

Oh, gym...well, he did have a bit of that look at him...

"How do you keep in shape?" he asked.

"I'm boring," I chuckled a little, "I try to do a little bit of running and catch the gym when I can, and stuff."

"That's cool," he said.

How eloquent.

"And you?"

"I do hockey," he said before taking an appropriate sip of beer.

I smiled, imagining how the big Dobie must look like all decked up in those protective pads and a helmet and wielding a big stick that was maybe slightly less phallic than a baseball bat, but still, it was great fun to think about. Especially about the big group hugs and ass slaps after a successful goal.

"I've watched some NHL on TV sometimes," I mused.

He smiled.

"Were you one of those cubs who wanted to be the next Gretzky?" I asked.

"Of course!" the Dobie laughed, his ears flicking energetically. "Didn't ever do it seriously enough to even think of going professional, of course, but me and the guys from the office do it once, twice every week."

"Wow," I said.

"What?" he raised his brow. "Did you think I got a limp wrist?"

He lifted one of those big paws and flicked it as if he was just making a winning goal at a grueling game, and smirked, a handsome, confident smile.

"Oh, no, no, I just..." I gave him a look, from ear tips to that nice rear end, and then back to his eyes, "I just...I wasn't thinking about it.

The Dobie smirked and wagged his docked tail.

"I've heard that before, don't worry," he shrugged, going for his beer. "Mostly from the girls but...yeah...mostly the girls."

"Well..."I stated, then, looking at him... "Even if you didn't become a pro, you became an outright hockey hunk."

Heh. That must've made some sort of a record as a worst pickup line in gay history, but he did smile. He laughed, and made a sound that made me think that he'd accidentally inhaled some beer into his nosepad or something.

But I wasn't even trying to pick him up, anyway. A little bit of flirt could salvage a quiet night, though, and teasing a sexy Doberman wasn't such a bad idea. He seemed to like it, too, because he was laughing alright.

"Nice," he said.

"Thanks," I chuckled.

We kept on talking for a while longer, we finished our drinks and ordered more, and a cruciall moment was, I guess, when he went to the gents to take a leak and instead of using that opportunity to move away somewhere else, he returned the to stool next to me and we kept on talking.

"Well look at that time, though," he said after checking out his phone, "damn work tomorrow, eh?"

"Yeah," I said, my ears dropping, "is it already late?"

"About half past nine," he said, pocketing his phone.

"Well, yeah," I said, "I have to start early, too."

"Got anywhere to be for the night?" he asked.

That'd been a curious way to word it...even without having his thick paw on my thigh when he did pose the question. I felt quite heavy and warm there, and nice, and...a kind of a predatory instinct as triggered in my brain, I suppose, because my tail and my neck furs bristled a little. Guess it was a feeling of being cornered...he was being very bold all sudden, even if we had exchanged a few flirty comments and looks during the time we'd spent chatting together. Guess he wanted to try his luck in the end...shame that I had to turn him down like that...but I did want to nice to him, I really did, after a pretty good evening of chatting and laughing.

"Well...thank you," I spoke softly, "but..."

His ears flattened a little at that, and the paw...his fingers curled a little, but he didn't pull it away yet.

I let out a little breath and spoke more.

"I'm not sure if I'm really what you're looking for, though," I said.

He looked at me with those big eyes of his, managing to almost pull off a puppy look, as oversized as he was for that.

"How do you mean you're not?"

His paw on my thigh felt so warm and heavy, just like the rest of the hockey hunk. It was having a bit of an effect on my manly parts, too, but it just happened that I wasn't really interested in lifting my tail for him, even if he was a charmer. It just wasn't my thing, really.

"I kinda prefer to hold the stick, if you catch my drift," I told him, deciding that I could at least tease the hockey hunk with his own lingo, a bit.

It's not that I think it's subby or something, you know, but I guess I don't just really like my ass to be prodded that much in the end. Maybe I'm not anal enough...I don't know...I've done it and it's okay, but...need to be in a mood, and that Dobie was so nice and he probably had a good-sized...stick, too, and his body was hot...but I guess you can't fight your nature. And it might be a cop-out to suggest a night cap and some blowjobs, if he really was so desperate to do it with me...not that I'd be opposed to, but...maybe it wouldn't be quite what he was looking for. Furs did come into these places to get what they wanted, after all.

His paw didn't move at all. He sounded almost bashful when he spoke again, in that warm rumble of his.

"I wouldn't mind if you'd sink a few goals to my net if that's...well...if you don't mind."

My tail jumped a little...hell, my cock jumped a little, as he spoke that unexpected thing. He kept looking at me, and kept his paw there, and I was starting to feel a wholly new warmth growing as I watched him trying to look as imposing as ever even after he had just offered that I could stick my kittie tool into his big and probably tight hot doggie Dobie ass.

Now, I say again, I hadn't come to the bar to get laid, but here was something right up my alley on the offer, I suppose, and I was just...macho enough, king of the jungle kind of mentality, in the making, that if something of that caliber was on the offer so freely, I might as well throw my usual "one night stands are not worth it in the end" mentality into the wind and enjoy myself a little bit more than I had anticipated when I dragged myself into the Ramrod for a sorrow drink.

"You look really surprised," he said.

I smiled, and put my paw over his, on my thigh, and squeezed it, just gently like that.

"Maybe I am a little," I said, and my voice slowly gained an edge of a purr as I looked into his eyes. "But in a good way."

He smiled and leaned over for a peck on my lips, and I found myself rumbling into the touch, surprised, and glad for such a casual show of warmth, made possible by this environment where such a thing was most prone to bring out envious looks and a few whoops of approval.

"How about we finish these drinks and see what happens?" he said.

I smiled, and nodded, my lips tingling pleasantly.

*

He didn't mind paying the cab, even with my brief protestations about splitting it, and we entered a nice-looking building in a nicer area, certainly nicer than mine. The elevator was mirrored and I could see multiple versions of me and him, standing there... I was breathing a bit heavily, and my tail wouldn't stay still.

We just about got into his apartment before I decided to take a bold step of my own, by grabbing his arms and tiptoeing myself up to kiss him properly. He responded in kind, with hunger for sex, his tongue slipping into my muzzle, his body thrumming with energy...warm, solid muscle and need.

"Fancy another drink?" he rumbled once we had parted and I was busy playing with his collar and licking his chin.

"I don't want to be hung over in the morning," I rumbled, "how about we just...?"

"Yeah..." he rumbled in approval.

We got rid of our clothes and stumbled quite happily through the dark apartment, all the way until I pushed him down onto a Dobie-smelling bed and I soon had my tongue in his muzzle instead, and his big paws were groping at my butt. The hockey hunk was a good kisser, the kind of who listened to you with his body and then returned it accordingly, but also without forgetting his own needs.

He kissed like a top, and that was nice, and he felt like one, too, big, heavy, muscular and smelling like he hadn't showered after one of those hockey games he flaunted with. Still, he was the one underneath me, letting me unbutton his collared shirt once I managed to tore my muzzle away from his. We panted onto each other's faces and I watched him lying there, grinning up to me confidently. He had a great smile, not too cocky like many Dobies seemed to have due to them knowing that they were thought to be imposing. No...he was confident, but it was like he was saying 'I know you like it so come on and get it', rather than anything else. That was much nicer...much more friendly.

I revealed mounds of dark-furred silky flesh, big pecs, a flat tummy...with clear definition, there. It looked delicious...and being crouched on top of him, knees hugging his sides, I just leaned down all cat-like and started to lick his neck. I added a bit of teeth when he groaned appreciatively, and pinched a nearby nipple between my fingerpads...I'd lick there later, but now...hmm...breathing him in was nice, rubbing and nosing and licking...tasting musk...

His big chest was really starting to pay off, those growls were nice and set me even more aroused, his grunts resonating against my lips while I caught him good, kissing a little reverse V along his chest, all the way from his throat over to his right nipple...which I suckled like it was a tit...well...hmm...interesting mental image there...did straight furs do that? No idea...but it felt sexy to do now...and he sounded happy enough. I could hear his tail wagging, and mine looped about happily behind me while I kept stoking up the heat between us. My own cock was unsurprisingly hard against my belly, and I could feel his own hefty canine member pulse near my hip, pressed between my body and his....with promise. He was hung...oh yes...I liked that in a guy...who didn't? I was allowed that bit of shallowness at least.

"Let's see what you got," I told him in a voice I hoped to be sexy, as I slipped my paws to his belt and untied it. The hockey hunk smiled and lifted his butt so that I could tug down his neat pants. I went all the way, getting them off his legs and tossing them to the side, and he didn't mind ,and when I crawled over him again, I could see that big bulge in his boxers...it looked very large indeed...and I told him as much....and grabbed him.

"Humph..." he grunted, hips rising again...a gentle thrust into my palm as I kept him in my grip.

"Nice," I said, thinking that it didn't really need further words to describe what I felt with such a thing in my paw. I

I went for his underwear next, pulling until that doggy tool flopped into view. He was thick alright...and his knot was big. I tried grabbing it, and he bit his teeth together and hissed...I knew they were sensitive...bits...so I kept it really careful, when I gave that slick ball of flesh a measured squeeze while my free paw made some circles over his abs, to keep up the fun otherwise as well. This wasn't all about his dick, after all, though he was definitely enjoying how it felt, me feeling him up, his weight, the smooth length of his member...very good. I smirked as I leaned over his body again, pressed to his side while I touched him, rubbing my furry cheeks against his belly and thighs while I provided a flow of warm air from between my lips over his damp skin. I avoided the really naughty places, though...let that come slowly...yes...let him enjoy...let me enjoy this rare opportunity to explore such a handsome man.

I rubbed him, slowly...he was leaking, and that made for something fun to play with, my thumb on his tip...spreading that musky fluid around there, slowly, using my pad for the best. I gave him a bit of a smirk when I rolled between his legs and decided that using my tongue was the best thing to do next...letting my tongue slip out of my maw and touch...yes...damn he did have a heavy taste...oh, God...

"Ahh..."

I licked up and down his shaft, back and forth, slowly, closing to the tip until it became the natural time to try taking it into my muzzle. I found out that he was just a little bit too big for completely care-free head, but I could get my tongue around that tip and then, holding his shaft up, I suckled on it as wetly as I could, making him twitch and moan pleasantly. My fingers found his heavy sac and I massaged his balls gently, enjoying their weight, much like his knot in my grip...the feel so sexy that I was leaking seriously into my own underwear by the time I got up form his cock for a breather. I felt blushed and suitably naughty, and as we looked at one another across his naked body, his smile widened to include his teeth while he watched me rub my paw over the lump at the front of my own pants.

"How about you get that shy thing out?" the dark Dobie smiled in the near darkness of his bedroom, and I smiled back to him, equally toothy.

My belt buckle clicked and with a little bit of shuffling I was out of the rest of my clothing, a tall lion kneeling on the hockey hunk's bed and sporting what I hoped to be a sufficiently nice curved erection of feline proportions, complete with those prickly parts that you either loved or hated. I was going to find the Dobie's opinion on those in a while, I was damn sure of that, judging by the way both of us were leaking and making his bedroom smell like a jockstrap that had been worn for a week. Not that I wore them, but I could imagine...he was really inspiring me to think a lot of raunchy things now, it seemed.

The Hockey Hunk smirked and watched me for a while, admiring, I hoped.

"Come on, lemme get a taste," he said.

I shuffled forward on the best and wondered how he wanted to do this, but his paws landed on my hips and pulled me just where he wanted me to be, his head propped on a pillow, my knees on either side of his head so that...well...this rather porny posture allowed him to nose my balls and give them a bit of a licking while he groped my rump and then pulled my shaft down, making me yowl a little at the sensation...just before his lips and tongue closed down on my tip.

"Aahhhh..."

He suckled and licked, his muzzle a cave of warmth I thrust into, instinctually, the feeling utterly wonderful. I must've accidentally battered him with my tail while I remained poised there, enjoying his oral attentions and leaking heavily onto his tongue...my hips bucking...butt cheeks squeezing together...his slurping got me right to the edge, and I had to tell him as much.

I rolled off him, and we watched each other for a bit, while he smirked and tilted his head to the side.

"There's stuff there you'll need," he rumbled, indicating his nightstand.

My cock twitched against my belly, leaking profusely still.

"Okay," I breathed.

I rolled about and opened the indicated drawer to find some lube and a few packets of condoms, including a strip of them that read "URSOPLUS CATNIP - EXTRA SENSITIVE MEDIUM". I smirked a little at the discovery of cat condoms and lifted them up for him to see while I raised my brow.

He shrugged a bit.

"Used to date a tiger for a while at one point," he sounded almost absent when he spoke. "I hope it's a good fit. He wasn't huge or tiny or anything."

"Uh...medium's okay," I snuffled, confessing my knowledge that I wasn't exactly packing a stallion's worth of equipment down there, but I was glad that some guys were not so shallow as to measure the success of a bedroom encounter with a ruler.

I dropped the so-called stuff onto the bed and watched how he shuffled fist to his knees, which gave me a reall good look at his ass and his broad back and shoulders, and his little stub of a tail held defiantly up as the crown of his firm, dark butt cheeks. The hockey hunk then grabbed one of his big pillows and put it under his belly while he laid down, flat on the bed, with his arm folding so that his chin rested against it very cozily.

"I kinda like it best like this," he rumbled.

My hungry eyes darted between his still flicking ears, the back of his neck and the curve of that ass, propped up with that pillow, and I looked until I traced a hint of pink there at the very base of his tail. Hefty balls pressed against the mattress in their fuzzy sac, pulled taut by his alluring posture...I could really see everything.

"It's...fine," I said.

He looked pretty damn fine alright, all laid down like that and spread and waiting for me to get dirty with him. I knew I couldn't spend any more time waiting...I just had to...have him...so I popped the lube open and squirted it onto my paw, to warm it up a little bit before I started rubbing the sticky, un-scented stuff over his taint. The hockey hunk rumbled appreciatively and wriggled himself a bit, especially when I used my clean paw to pull his ass cheeks apart to better expose him for my questing fingers.

He was tight back there but he got a few slippery fingers inside him, worming into his pucker and then into that warm tunnel that followed. It felt almost weird to be fingering someone who even smelled so dominant...but there he was, ass up on the bed and letting out low grunts of enjoyment while I played with his butt. It made my cock throw and leak into my belly furs and made me hiss occasionally...it just...it was good.

"Liking what you're seeing?" he chuckled without turning back to look at me.

I responded by curling my fingertips and pressing against the slight bump that was his prostate, causing the hockey hunk to do some hissing of his own. His insides squeezed down on my slick fingers firmly as a result, compelling me to stay in there, and keep rubbing him.

"Uh huh," I chuckled in my own right while I massaged his pleasure bumb some more, receiving a few more sexy murrs and rumbles as a reward for my effort.

"Hmmm that's nice..."

He seemed to be really sensitive down there...good...always good...

"As soon as you're...ah... ready," he spoke to me from that odd position of his, and wagged his little tail, as if I really needed any more invitation.

He sure was eager for it...

My fingers made a kind of a slurp when I pulled them out of him, and decided to wipe them clean on his rump. He didn't mind...not when he heard the rustle of plastic when I grabbed the square sliver holding the condom and managed to negotiate the sheath over my shaft without too much of trouble. I spread some extra lube over myself with a couple of careful strokes over myself, which was more than enough nonetheless to make me hiss and purr with pleasure. My cock strained inside the snug plastic of the condom, a good fit, so much that I could even see the individual barbs making bumps against the thin, strong material.

I had somewhere better to put my junk, anyway, too, that being the broad rump of the Dobie lying on his belly in front of me, his ass on great display, too, and just waiting for it. I scooted closer boldly and adjusted the positioning of my legs so that our thighs hugged each other, and using one paw to steady myself and the other to aim, I pushed myself into his crack. We both hissed from the sensation as I rubbed myself up and down between his cheeks a few times. I didn't have the patience to keep it going for too long...I opted to maneuver my tip to rest against his hole instead, and keep it there, let him know what was coming.

My pointed, barbed tip made good contact on his pulsing opening, and with a firm push and a growl between my teeth - and a huff from the hockey hunk - I managed to slip past his pucker and into his warm tunnel. I rested as soon as I was in, poised above him, my weight resting on my paws now splayed on the small of his back for a little while, before I simply decided that he probably could take whatever I could give to him, without a fuss, and I simply began t push myself all the way into his warmth.

I purred loudly when my hips bumped against his upturned rump, causing our balls to meet as well. I saw his ears flatten briefly when my proud cock slipped balls deep into his Dobie butt, but did not hear any further complaints from that point on. The hunk simply sighed deeply...contently...and laid still, keeping the status quo of badassness even with something pointed and throbbing stuffed deep inside that not too bad ass. In fact, he had a great ass, tight, warm and alive, giving little tugs all around my member while his muscles stretched and tried to get used to having me in there. Maybe some of it was deliberate, too...if he was much of a bottom as he attested to being, then he surely had some hidden skills buried in there as well...and I looked forward to finding out...just now as I laid down over my conquest. I'm usually more of a missionary kind of a guy, but this was what the delicious hockey hunk wanted, so I was delivered gladly. It was good to rest down on his broad back, press over him, take hold of his body just under his musky armpits with my paws, let him feel my weight and my purrs, just savor that moment for a while, his heat, my body, the way our furs mingled, our bodies fit together.

"Aahh..." that was quite a mutual opinion on us.

Then I started rocking my hips slowly, back and forth.

First I only let the first inch or so of my cock slip in and out of his tight, slippery hole. I kept the pace very slow and steady so that we could both enjoy the feeling of stuffing and getting stuffed equally. I wasn't feeling like hurrying, even if the mating instinct in me was telling me to kick in the high gear right away and make sure that we'd be making some kittens soon.

The recipient of my anal affections lay mostly still, simply content, it seemed, to enjoy the ride I was providing. That didn't mean he was passive, however, I felt his body rise and fall with his breaths, untroubled by my weight on his back, and there were both the slow and fast ripples of his body while I gave it to him well. The Dobie didn't even react much when I started to groom his neck with my lips and tongue and soon with a few nips as well while I let my hips go a little bit faster on him, though still keeping it steady, not a slamming fuck, just...a nice joining of bodies.

His rump was springy and gave me good leverage for some very relaxed thrusting, the simple rocking motion of my hips was enough to keep it going nice and slowly and with just the right amount of energy and force. I could also divert some of my attention to enjoying the way he smelled, or to lapping a few drops of sweat from his thick neck when they appeared as a result of our exertions. He tasted good...and he felt wonderful.

It was much a rock 'n roll kind of a fuck, our bodies moving smoothly - well, mostly it was my body moving, while the hockey hunk provided the hot ass which I could thrust into and keep us both happy with ourselves. I enjoyed him otherwise as much, to be honest, since it had been a while since I had the pleasure to really hold someone new close to me and feel someone else breathe right next to me. His body was alive and he was making me feel alive, the way sex was supposed to make you feel like the king of the universe for the time you had your body tied to someone's that deeply. It just felt right...even if we'd never do this again, it was still wonderful, to enjoy ourselves for all it was worth.

My hips flowed smoothly as I kept going at him, ramping up the speed and energy I put behind my thrusts while our growls started to intensify, his getting deeper, mine higher in pitch. The familiar itching just under my balls was starting to grow, and I knew that I was about ready to call it quits, but there was still one conscious thought in me despite the intense pleasure building up inside my body. Our bodies stroked together, covered in sweat and musk, and...

"Can I...nghhh...bite?" I whispered hotly against his neck while my hips still pounded into him, racing towards the inevitable.

"Ngghh...yeah..." he answered from somewhere afar.

He grunted a few times and his body tensed when my teeth closed over his shoulder in a firm mating bite just as my hips gave a few hard shoves against his rump and opened the floodgates for me. I kept myself buried deep under his tail while my body shuddered with its release. His body flexed underneath mine and after a moment I realized that the big Dobie also was coming, especially when the new musk washed over my nose and filled the air with an ever-growing scent of sex, his back passage massaging me with hot waves that left me breathless. I felt spurred by on by this feat and...that me thrusting into him, and the motion of his flesh between his body and the bed had been enough...wow....

I flopped down onto the hockey hunk's back and breathed hotly against his neck, not even bothering to try to calm down after blowing my load. His breaths came equally raggedly, and his ears flicked whenever he felt the hot flow of air against his skin. My belly tingled pleasantly while my cock pulsed, still buried deeply inside the Dobie's hot insides, ready for another go in a while if I was to believe my body's signals.

It had not let me down yet.

"You okay back there?" the Dobie spoke after a moment, his voice breathy still.

I chuckled softly and lapped against a wrinkle of that thick skin on the back of his neck, tasting more sweat, murring at the flavor of a sexy male.

"I could say so, yeah...big boy," I chuckled, probably sounding a bit too slutty for my own good, but that was it, "How're you doing back there?"

I gave my hips a gentle little push, feeling my cum slosh around inside its plastic prison, still embedded within his beautiful body.

The hockey hunk grunted deeply and squeezed me with his hidden muscles, eliciting a purr from the big lion that was I.

"My back there is wondering if you'll stay the night," the Dobie chuckled, "there is still time."

"I gotta be at work at 12," I snuffled.

"That's better than my nine am," the Dobie's ears flicked again.

It was my time to chuckle as I squeezed the warm body underneath me and got comfy on my mount, feeling his familiar ripples go past again while I rested over him. He felt as warm and tight as ever, too, and kept me aware with gentle gripping pulses of his inner muscles around my cock, too, and that was making his proposal even easier to handle.

I licked away a few salty, tangy drops of sweat away from his neck scruff and liked the feeling of his smooth back furs against my own fluffy, and messy, by now, mane.

"I think my back there would like you to stay," the hockey hunk snuffled, "a lot."

"I think what I have back there is liking it there," I replied in a slightly rough voice as I groomed him with my tongue still.

"So, get back in there!" the gruff hockey hunk growled, and it was the only time during the whole night that he acted like his size, giving me such a direct command.

My hips tilted back from their comfortable sweaty resting place and prepared for another go at that juicy Dobie rump, knowing well that I still had enough steam in me for two or three goes before the night was through.

I hoped he had good coffee.

I can't get up in the morning without good coffee.

*

Well, here we go...how does it look this time around? I am most curious to read your thoughts!

See you tomorrow for a proper chapter of The Hockey Hunk!

Cheerio!