Bound - Third Installment
You know what keeps me sane? Telling stories to myself. Like I have a captivated audience sitting right in front of me hanging on every word I say about my life story, like it matters. So, that's what I do. I go over this shit in my head like I am the host of my own life, putting it on display. It's easier to imagine this shit when you're world is black and you have perfect silence most of the day. Go ahead, do that for a few months and you'll be where I am. I dare you to not start doing bat shit things in the day to keep you going.
Like all great stories this one starts out the same. ' So... this one time, when I was really wasted.' Yeah, I know what you're thinking already. It's true too. When I am drunk I get exceptionally friendly. When I am drunk and horny you can multiply that by two. Did I also add I go to gay bars? Now, in defense of myself before I continue, these are not your lisp central bars. They're.... guy bars, for guys... who want other guys. Not some little kitty boi's who would just as soon blow as you stuck a finger in them because their prostrate is the size of New York.
So, it shouldn't be a surprise to see me going up to a guy, running my hands over his chest, arms, ass, and then crotch. In that order too, since it's my particular order of important. I squeeze, whisper naughty things into an ear or two followed by groping at the end of every sentence. Fuck I love giving head, more than anything else, and when I am drunk it is probably bleeding obvious. I try and push along that fact too.
--
One too many shooters, one too many beers. Mixed was bad, this I knew. It never stop me though since I knew it would get me sufficiently plastered. I just pushed fifty dollars away. I don't count drinks in how much I had, just in how much I spent. I do that because I think maybe if I realize all the money I blow on it I'll stop.. Wow. I crack myself up sometimes. You can't tell but right now I am laughing my ass off.
I was not dressed to kill, black T-shirt-shirt and jeans. I was hot and confident, didn't need flashy clothes. I could pick up guys in a tank top and workout shorts. I spotted a completely average wolf sitting in the corner. I mean it too, not too big, small, looked like your run of the mill guy you ran into at the office. He was attractive though, from what I could tell from the distance... and drunk. It was good enough for me and I went over.
He saw me coming, because I couldn't really hide it. I was a good few inches larger than the average in the room. Larger everywhere, if you catch my drift. I'm sure you do. My hand found a purchase on his fabric covered cock, looking into his eyes. "This lap isn't taken is it," I had asked him questioningly, giving it a squeeze. I was not at all surprised when he smiled, reaching a hand over and placing it on my ass and tugging me a bit closer. "As long as this seat isn't. Hop on boy," he said, the wolf whose name I still didn't know and probably never would. I smoothed past him in the bench, making sure to nearly rub my ass against his snout but not quite. I sat down, right on his money maker, made sure it was cradled right between my cheeks, looked back at him with a smile. "Not a drinker," I asked him again, not one glass on the table. "I prefer to be alert," he responded to me, and that's when he got up, pushed me up with him and slipped a finger between my ass, over the jeans.
I didn't know what he was doing until I felt a cold rush of air against my by now sweaty cleft. I had been sitting on it for awhile now.. yes, I know. That's a waste of a good ass like mine. He had torn a slit up the back of them with his claw, and already freed his cock by the time we both sat back down. Now, getting fucked in a public setting wasn't much what I was worried about. As he got increasingly harder all I could help but notice how... above average he was too, and how dry. I didn't care at this point, I needed this, preferably before I blacked out and would be unable to remember it. On that note I crouched over him again and put his hard enough cock against me, which he was nice enough to shove right on in. My body shook, because it fucking hurt like nothing other. My fists were clenched and pressed flat to the table like my forearms where. I was so tense that my shakes stirred the solitary candle on top of the table, wax smoothing around, put out the flame. "Fucking Christ you're big.. slow down," I said, but he didn't. His hands on my hips just kept pulling me closer.
I loved him for it. I had my cock, he had his easy piece of ass that he wasn't going to be letting go. My cock wasn't even hard now, would you be if you had a hot steel shaped beer can shoved up your ass? No. My shoulders heaved, relaxed a little bit when he pulled my bigger body back against his, unzipped my fly and pulled out my heavy nuts and cock. He seemed to be overjoyed by the fact I was soft, squeezing and playing with my shaft. "The size is too much for you hey boy," he said, not a question. He knew it was a fact I was struggling with it, sweat appearing on my brow. He probably got off on it, the fact I wanted it so bad and that it felt so painfully good that even though I probably wouldn't get off on it, I was going to stay.. sit here, be his nice little cock warmer while he dryly fucked me into oblivion.
His cock was fully in awhile ago, was thrusting it now, short, soft ones. They made my spine tingle, hairs stand up on end, each time I felt legs spread so he could brace and push up harder, pushing my ass in against his cock. I moaned now, attracted some attention. I was the happiest bitch in the world right now. You would be too after fifty dollars of drinks and a rough dry fuck when your cock started swelling. The wood under the table was grainy, dirty. I knew this because the head of my cock pushed and rubbed under it. He didn't touch me one more time that night. Not through the hour or so he just softly fucked me. I knew the time since the game that was on the big screen started when I came over it him, and now it was over... and he still hadn't blown.
He wasn't trying to, I guess. He was having too much fun just having his dick stuffed in my meaty ass in front of a bar full of a good hundred people. I was on the cerge of passing out by now, but I was aware enough to be impressed. He had the best control I had ever seen. When people were slowly clearing out he made a good series of minute long quick thrusts and I felt it. A warm loud of wolf cream filling my ass. My cock wasn't touched since, except for now when he tooked the half-hard girth of it back in my pants, stuffing it down my leg. I passed out then, still slouched and imapled on his dick. I can only assume what happened next. He probably slid out from under me, ignored the seed slowly running out of my hole and staining the upholstery of the bench. I was probably his good drinking buddy who had too many, who he was going to take home and put in bed so I could sober up.
Well, how was anyone supposed to know? It was just an average looking wolf and I was a drunken Doberman who had a fresh 'got fucked' air about him.
--
I remembered everything slowly, with time.. with frequent journeys up and down the wolfs cock. His smell.. what it felt like when I bottomed out on him. He was probably just waiting for someone like me to come along. A big drunken guy who when it came down to it was a slut for a nice warm cock every now and then. I was his to keep now and I didn't care, because that was a godly fuck that night, as was it every day there after I had the honor of taking it.
I did notice he wasn't trying to impress me or savour it anymore. That made sense though when he had a permanent cock holster. You just get off in it as much as you want, no sense in making love or trying to make sure the other party enjoyed. I didn't blame him. I would have probably done the same.
Sometimes aside from keeping sane these memories were the only thing that kept me going for other aspects. It wasn't everyday he came, sometimes I would go without for a couple, which always got me worried and anxious. He brought me food too, made sure I ate it like any hungry dog would. This was one of those times, where if I didn't know better I could have assumed some sort of world war happened and I was the only one left alive.
That would also explain why no one else ever came looking for me. I had friends, family. All that good stuff, but I never heard anything. Hell, I couldn't blame them either. If I didn't know where I was how should they? I was starting to miss them, just a bit. Never during sex with the wolf however, always after when I had nothing better to do but think.
I had to take it one step at a time though, because I just heard footsteps approaching down the hallway, and that meant I had to lay down on my cot on my stomach with my ass facing the door. He knew it was an obvious attempt, I knew it was an obvious attempt but... a dog had to get his bone.