A Boy And His Dog
This is a story depicting gay, furry sex. What the hell else would you expect, given where it's posted? Do not read if you don't like it, do not copy it, do not read if you are underage.
The air was wet with dissipating rain, the remnants of a storm that had passed through during the night. It added a soothing moistness to the normally dry summer air, a welcome vanguard against the rising sun and the temperatures sure to climb with it. Dennis smiled to himself as he rode through mud puddle after mud puddle, no doubt staining his jeans with the splashes. The scolding he'd get from his mother was a small price to pay for the satisfaction of disturbing the tiny, placid ponds. He was the only person out on the street, riding right down the center without a care in the world. His big bushy foxtail trailed behind him, the downy fur ruffled by the slightest morning breeze. If it weren't such a nice neighborhood his parents would never let him ride so early by himself, when only the slightest traces of the sun were cresting the horizon.
Even a casual pass of the eye was more than enough to tell the neighborhood was far from the bad part of town. Mercedes and BMWs sat in the smooth driveways he passed by. Finely manicured lawns and perfect, uncracked concrete walks without the tiniest bit of wear or unevenness spanned as far as the eye could see. The neighborhood was all very bland, no real distinction between the cookie cutter homes or their property lines, the definition of homogeneous made manifest in suburban sprawl. Dennis was just lucky he'd lived here long enough to pick up the subtle differences or he'd still have to rely on street names and house numbers to get where he wanted to go, and this morning, he knew exactly where he wanted to be.
He turned his bike abruptly, veering right up a driveway and into an open garage where an old red Mustang sat. It was a practiced routine, and even with the car taking up the majority of the space he had no problem gliding right past it. He only stopped his bike in the back of the garage amiss various clutter, well out of view of any prying eyes. Don't look like you're doing anything wrong or suspicious, and no one suspects a thing. Dennis grinned to himself as he dumped his bike on the ground and yanked off his helmet, his messy brown hair spilling out from beneath to tickle at his cheeks. He pushed it out of his eyes with his fingers, dropping his helmet on the ground. A few quick steps brought him across the garage, through a door and into the dimly lit interior of a well kept kitchen.
A quick glance around him told him that he was alone, but the coffee mug on the table hinted that someone had been sitting there only moments ago. Dennis shut the door behind him and locked it, grinning like a fool as he pulled his t-shirt off and threw it on the floor. By the time he was off the white tile of the kitchen and onto the plush black carpet of the living room, all of his clothes save for a pair of lime green boxers were covering the floor instead of his lithe body. The young fox was far from athletic, with neither the genes or the inclination to achieve the body of a stud. But he never really gained weight either, his wiry body lacking any real definition aside from in his legs. His active biking served to flatter at least one part of his anatomy.
He tilted his head back and sniffed at the air, his coal black ears wriggling back and fourth in an attempt to locate his quarry one way or another. The pitter patter of water on glass and stone filtered through the walls to tickle at his ears, luring Dennis upstairs. His fingers trailed on the banister, the grain of the wood serving as a reminder that it was all real, all tangible, and not merely a passing dream that would cruelly wander past his eyes upon waking. He could smell him the closer he got to the bathroom, the vapor from the shower carrying his scent down the upstairs hallway. The man that he rode out to see every weekday morning, every weekend afternoon he could manage to slink away from home to 'do a few chores' for..
Mister Tusing, or Vincent, depending on the whims of the fox. His grin grew, his pulse rising along with the tent in his shorts with every step that brought him closer. He didn't immediately push open the door more than a mere crack, just enough for him to lean forward and gaze upon what was all his. Though the details were lost due to the steam and fog on the glass, his memory filled in what his eyes could not. Six foot, five inches, two hundred and fifty pounds of the most handsome German Shepherd he'd ever laid eyes on lurked behind the glass. He was more than old enough to be Dennis' father, but Vincent's body would have been right at home on the pages of any filthy magazine.
He worked out religiously, a routine left over from days in the military long since past. His features were not like the coy, alluring smile of a street corner hustler. His coat was flecked with grey and whites, not the rich, flawless perfection of a twink's glossy fur. He was far closer to an action hero from his dad's old movies than some clever pretty boy, but that was just the way Dennis liked it. Stepping as lightly as he could, he slinked his way into the room. The lime green boxers hit the tiled bathroom floor before he slid open the glass door and stepped inside the large shower, right beside Vincent.
"I was wondering how long you'd be staring out there." He rumbled, turning to look down at the diminutive fox. Five feet if that, height was not one of the teenager's assets.
"One of these days I'll manage to sneak up on you." Dennis murmured back, almost in awe of the masculine dog's body. No matter how many times he saw it, or felt it, or dug his claws into it's fur.. It never ceased to impress and amaze him, something that amused Vincent to a great degree. The musky scent, the tactile feel of the almost coarse fur beneath his hands, the way the calloused dog's paws felt wandering across his form..
"Then what?" Vincent asked, lifting a finger to touch the fox's nose. "Going to try and fuck me?" Dennis shivered when the finger made contact, his head tilting back to bring it to his lips.
"N-No sir." He whispered back, his lips parting then closing around the end of a thick digit, his tongue tracing around the claw on it's end.
"Good boy." Vincent's free hand came to rest on Dennis' head, his fingers grabbing his hair like a set of reins. Vincent didn't even have to say what he wanted anymore, merely a touch and a knowing look were all the guidance Dennis needed. He eased himself down onto his knees without even having to brace himself, descending only as slowly as Vincent pushed him. Watching the eager yet obedient fox kneeling before him was more than enough to have Vincent's dick throbbing, at full attention before Dennis' knee caps hit the bottom of the large stall. The dog was just as hung as his height and build would suggest, a nice, long dick and a set of plum sized balls that had painted Dennis inside and out on more than one occasion. Dennis lifted his hands, his fingers teasing, working down the length of the shaft in his paws until they were wrapped around the last four inches.
Sometimes it was hard to wrap his fingers completely around it, but with both hands working together Dennis managed just fine. He grinded his palms from side to side, his fingers kneading into the veiny meat like an old pro. He'd been taught well, a fast learner with one hell of a teacher. The taste of the shower water was the first thing Dennis noticed as his lips closed around the head of Vincent's prick. It was a minor annoyance, merely a short distraction from the true treat that lay beneath.. A savory, musky flavor that invited Dennis' tongue to taste to his little heart's content. One swish of his tongue beneath the tip rewarded him with a grunt and a spurt of salty liquid, a welcome addition to the wonderful bouquet of flavors mixing in his muzzle.
Saying that Dennis' lips fell slowly inch by inch would like saying saying the Louvre was full of pretty pictures. It would be skimming the surface of a rich pool of delights, an unforgivable omission of innumerable details. His lips moved with the subtle drift of a glacier wrapped in silk. They not only held their seal, but wriggled ever so slightly, conforming to Vincent's contours while adding a tantalizing amount of friction. His tongue rolled in like a Caribbean breaker, warm, enveloping, retreating one moment only to surge forward the next. His breath came out in short puffs from his nose, a faint tickle at Vincent's fur that grew closer and closer until the hot breaths were so near, so focusing, that they made the water falling on the dog's body almost seem cold.
Vincent's chest heaved with excitement, every bit of his lungs demanding to be filled with air all at once. It was not just the feeling, no, but the sight of a cute young fox ready, willing, and able to fulfill his every desire. Dennis' eyes were on Vincent's almost the entire time, searching for any sort of disapproval, any sort of hint that he was doing anything other than what he was supposed to. By the time the fox's lips started suckling above his knot, it was all Vincent could do to keep himself from yanking his hair. He pulled Dennis a few more inches forward and he didn't even gag, not even as the swelling knot began to enter his muzzle and the dick slid further down his throat. Deep breaths, all important to keep himself centered, to himself cool and collected, to keep himself from blowing his load too soon.
When Vincent pulled back again, the fox's lips tugged at his meat until it slid free with an audible pop. Without direction or hesitation Dennis leaned in, Vincent's cock riding up on his cheek as the fox began to lick his balls, his thighs, anything his muzzle could reach. Every so often the tongue would hit a particular spot, causing Vincent to draw in a short breath as he would spurt more and more of his syrupy pre across Dennis' face. He knew just how far to drive Vincent, how much his knot could swell, how fast his chest would rise before he couldn't take it any more.. And Dennis knew when to stop. He pulled back, laying down on the shower floor, face dribbled with streaks of Vincent's precum, his own dick hung out across one red-orange thigh. He never stopped looking at Vincent the entire time, waiting for him, wanting him to make the next move.
"Stand up." The dog ordered with a lusty growl undercutting his words, signaling the end of Dennis' brief respite.
"Want me to leave, Mister Tusing?" Dennis asked in a teasing tone, feigning innocence as he rose. He turned towards the shower stall's door, glancing over his shoulder at Vincent while raising his tail. The dog put a hand on his shoulder, pushing him against the wall where his body effortlessly pinned Dennis. They stared at one another, sharing a mere breath or two before Vincent leant in and his tongue struck into Dennis' muzzle with the speed and ferocity of a sidewinder. It was passion, not love that drove them, their tongues twisting and thrashing, fingers trailing through each other's fur.
When they breathlessly broke apart, Vincent effortlessly slid the fox up along the wet shower wall. Dennis carefully maneuvered his legs, lifting one up, then the other, both of his ankles finding their home on Vincent's shoulders with a little help from the big dog. It left him wonderfully exposed in Vincent's arms, the dog's dick brushing against the crack of his ass. He reached down with one black gloved paw, taking the big dick into his grasp. Shivering all the while, he pressed it up between his ass cheeks right to his back door. Even with all the heat in the air swirling around him, with all the fire in the body pressing to his, with the knowledge he'd done this hundreds of times before.. It still made him shiver every time.. With Vincent, at least.
He felt Vincent shifting his hips, his dick still slick with Dennis' saliva and the dog's pre. He pressed in close against Dennis as his dick pushed in the first inch, the fox unable to speak, unable to breathe as familiar and welcome feelings began whispering in his mind. The whispers became shouting, then intangible gibberish as the dog rocked his hips forward and buried himself so fully that Dennis could feel the bulge of his knot resting against his ass cheeks. While Dennis yelled and shouted, his hands gripping tightly at Vincent's shoulders, the dog merely growled louder and louder, his mouth held shut. His eyes stared into Dennis', an old brown color smoldering with passion for the green eyed fox in his arms. Dennis reached up and grabbed a handful of Vincent's short, blonde hair, pulling on it to spur him onward.
Vincent pulled back a few short inches, all he needed to begin hammering the fox like a two dollar whore. Dennis' other hand dug it's claws in vain at Vincent's shoulders, unable to pierce the fur there or the thick skin beneath. Dennis might have been taken regularly by the big dog, but he still fit like a glove three sizes too small and when the dog fucked him this hard it reminded him of that fact every pulse pounding second. The shower stall around him, the sound of the water, all of it vanished from his senses, blasted away by the sheer physical sensations wracking his mind and the low growl filling his ears like a white noise.
Everything had begun to warp together in one sense-bending blur when Vincent surged forward and popped his knot into Dennis' ass. If his mind was in any state to form words, he might have managed to shout 'Oh God!' instead of orgasm induced gibberish. Vincent didn't always tie him, and whenever he did it was always a surprise. He fell limp and breathless in Vincent's arms, unable to do anything but pant and cum all over himself and the dog stretching him nice and wide. Vincent barked in his ear, a signal that he'd hit his peak, his eyes glaring at Dennis, his lips pulling back across his teeth in a snarl. He always looked angry when he came at the end of a hard fuck like that, like he was ready to punch a hole in the wall.
Even in the afterglow of his own orgasm, even with his senses dulled by a flood of euphoria, Dennis could still feel the gush of warmth filling his body. Not a spurt, not a drop escaped the tight seal formed by the knot locking the two lovers together, a physical bond brought on by a physical need they both shared. It was five minutes later before either of them gained their senses, their minds slow to pick up the pieces.
"Vincent-" Dennis panted with a weary grin, his arms looping around the dog's neck. "Why'd you have to tie me on a school day? I'm gonna be late for class." The fox teased, kissing the German Shepherd on his cheek.
"Because I wanted to." Vincent breathed back at him, his teeth plucking at the sensitive underside of the fox's neck.
"Maybe you can sign a note for me, explaining to my teacher why I was-" Dennis found himself silenced by the dog's lips, brought into a slow kiss that often parted for them to breathe, only to begin anew between pants. When Vincent's knot finally subsided enough for him to pull himself free, Dennis was off and running through the house, gathering his clothes without even pausing to dry off. The ride to school would be more than enough to dry his fur, and though it was one of the last few days, Dennis still didn't want to be late. Very soon he'd be able to sneak off and waste away every summer afternoon at Vincent's house, and already his mind was working on a million different, filthy ways they could spend each and every minute.