FSE

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Once the last ice cube melted in my glass of whisky I finally figured out what was wrong. Everything. I don't even like whiskey, the strength of it made my mouth dry and numb. The jazz playing in the background was already getting old and repetitive, every note was a reminder that I'd rather be somewhere else. The dim lights illuminated every miserable face in the bar. No one was here because they wanted to be, the drinks were cheap and brought us all into this little hole in the wall.

All of that paled in comparison to the biggest offense in the room. The bartender was a walking grey mass of sharp sweat that pierced my nostrils. He was at least a decade older than me and smelled like the dank corner of a locker room. I couldn't take a breath without his odor overpowering all of my senses. The bar was hot and humid and it forced the boar's tank top undershirt to cling to his chest and potbelly in a soaked mess. Oh gods did he stink. I had been smelling him all night long and didn't even realize how terribly he soured the experience. I tried taking one last drink of my whiskey, but the first drop that touched my tongue tasted like sweat and I tossed the glass aside with a few bills before making my way outside. The tip was more generous than my mood, just enough to afford him a stick of deodorant that was sorely needed. Something he clearly hadn't heard of before.

The city lights rained down hard, even the moon's light felt blinding compared to the bar's dim lighting. I didn't have to wait long before the next bus came to ship me off back to the tiny apartment I've been calling home. I didn't remember the walk back or whether or not I locked the door behind me. Sleep found me immediately, at least the whisky was good for something.

Alarm. Shower. Brush. Dress... wait, what's this in my pocket?

I didn't notice the flier in the back of my pants until I was already getting ready for work again. I stared at the paper knowing something had to change. There was a picture of a muscled furry arm holding a barbell that read "Coal's Gym" in big bold letters. Isn't that something people do when they want to work out and feel better themselves? I can't just go through life feeling miserable about myself. I'm a college graduate, trips back home and filled with nothing but warm hugs and congratulations of landing such a great job. I still feel like so much was missing. I was so focused on college being the most important thing that I didn't do anything else.

I kept the flier on my walk to the bus, staring at the paper even once my weight landed in the cracked leather seats of public transportation. I was a short white greyhound, never really got enough of a sweet tooth to get a belly, but never really played enough sports to get strong either. I guess having the right genes kept me from focusing on things like this before. I remember seeing this logo for Coal's Gym before, it's just a block or two down from work. Maybe I'll go see what it's all about. Sure beats trying to fight monotony in a bar with that sweaty hog.

Work was work. With small paws and enough focus I can consistently manage ninety words per minute. My boss is still stuck in the last century, writing everything in cursive and using my position as an excuse not to join the rest of us here in the future. It's an entry level position and the company has enough prestige so all I have to do is keep my head down and type away for a year or two before I'm able to get promoted or move on to something else. It's easy work and the pay is good but this isn't what I imagined myself doing when I was just a pup being asked what I wanted to be when I grew up. My job doesn't even matter. How can you find meaning in life when your day to day exists solely on the laziness of others?

I couldn't wait to see the sun start to set. I was the first one out of the building, nearly heading to the bus stop again before I felt that ball of paper in my pocket. I turned back around, forcing a jog toward Coal's Gym so I wouldn't have to explain to any coworkers why I was switching up my routine. The less I had to deal with work the better.

As soon as I stepped inside of the gym I took a deep breath and let the entire atmosphere fill my lungs, letting out a big deep sigh of relief. This felt like the first day of my life and everything from the catchy pop music in the background to the clean clear windows made me feel like this was a fresh start.

I greeted the receptionist and never let my smile drop even after noticing the price of a membership. Affording things like this was the whole point of taking a mind numbing job, right? The receptionist handed me a towel and keys to locker #53.

I quickly bounced up the stairs to the 2nd floor and gazed around what I hoped to be my new routine. Barbells, weights, lifting machines, some elastic thing with handles... I don't know what any of this is for. I walked around like a lost little puppy. There's no way I know what I'm doing here. I tried not to regret my purchase, telling myself I just need to start slow and find something familiar. I saw a treadmill off in the middle of the room that seemed simple enough. Just a few button pressed as I was getting a good jog going. That's not so bad, I can watch everyone else working out and try to learn how the machines work.

On the way home I actually felt pretty good. Maybe it was all of those endorphins or whatever people that work out talk about. My legs felt pretty sore so I must have done something productive.

Alarm. Shower. Brush. Dress. Bus.

Fuck my legs are on fire. What happened to the endorphins from last night? I couldn't even find a comfortable position to sit without that ache coursing through my legs. Muscles started to hurt in my ass that I didn't even know I had before. Is this really what working out is supposed to feel like?

Coffee. Small talk. Typing. Lunch. More Typing. Sunset.

Fuck it, I'm going home there's no way anyone could ever work out when they feel like this.

Sleep. Alarm. Shower. Brush. Dress. Bus. Coffee. Small talk. Typing. Lunch. More Typing. Sunset.

Okay let's give this place one more go. Coal's Gym felt alive as soon as I opened the glass doors, the music pumped like a dance club and everyone pushing themselves to get faster or stronger helped me feel motivated. Being gouged for a membership fee didn't hurt either. This time I tried to pick up a pair of barbells and work out my arms a little, I peeked over to someone else doing a similar exercise and tried to mirror his movements. He would wait to rest and then do the same exercise all over again and I did my best to copy him perfectly. Once my arms got tired I noticed a sign posted against one of the mirrors.

"If you are too weak to return your weights, please contact the fitness staff and the females will be happy to assist you."

I smirked at the joke, imagining any of these buff guys stumbling across it. I managed to put both of my weights set back before something very solid and sweaty smacked me across the muzzle and knocked me onto the floor.

"Sorry, pup." Were the only words I heard through the thumping music. My nose was aching from the impact and the bridge of my muzzle was sore from feeling crumpled. Once I got to my feet I couldn't even see the guy anymore, but something unmistakable about him was left behind. His sweat was still stuck to the front of my muzzle and once I could breathe through my nose again it was pretty clear I bumped directly into his armpit. Yuck!

Fuck it was everywhere. I could taste him on my tongue now, I heard a few chuckles from onlookers and decided it was best to cut my workout short. Damn it why did I have to think it would be a good idea to crawl out of my routine to begin with? I don't know how to handle situations like this. I went back to locker #53 and tried to wipe the sweat from my muzzle, throwing the dirty cloth back in the locker and just deciding to go home early.

I took a shower first thing when I got back to my apartment. I had to get that sweat off of my muzzle. What an inconsiderate jerk, he had to see me standing there. I should go back and complain tomorrow, maybe get my membership refunded. What was he anyway? A bull? Stallion? Was it a giraffe? I can't remember anything about him, just sweaty fur and impact. The scent is so strong there's nothing in there but some sort of strong musk. I nearly wore down the bar of soap before I calling it an early night.

Alarm. Shower again. Brush. Dress. Bus.

Ungh it's still in there. Somewhere deep in my nostrils. I must have looked like a lunatic on the bus trying to snort or take in different scents from the window as the city whizzed by. Nothing seemed to be able to get this out. When I got to work I tried to avoid as many conversations as possible and ate lunch at my desk. Could everyone else smell it on me too? This was so embarrassing I didn't want to explain it to anyone, I just tried to keep my head down and get these papers out.

Eventually sunset came again and I was able to return to Coal's Gym. I walked right past the reception desk and realized I would have to actually admit what happened in order to complain about it. Running on the treadmill was much easier. I just looked around and kept sniffing. Was it that elephant... no. Maybe the big bear on the bench press about to hit the showers... no, not strong enough. I couldn't find the scent anywhere. Then it hit me, I left the sweat cloth back in my locker. Good ol' #53. I took a good whiff of the rag, immediately finding the scent again and went back out to try and find my perpetrator.

After nearly an hour of sniffing around, I came to the conclusion that he wasn't here today. Maybe he only works out a few days per week. If I wanted to find him again I'd have to keep coming back.

...but why do I need to find him anyway? He'd just say it was an accident so what? It isn't like I could beat the guy up. Maybe I could type him a strongly worded letter for him to crumple up and throw back at me. He'd probably just get me in a headlock and stick my nose back in his armpit again. Fuck why am I having these thoughts. There's no way I like it. It's his sweat it's fucking gross.

That's what I thought all the way on the bus ride home with that sweat cloth in my paws. Staring down and it and wondering where I took a wrong turn here. I wanted to find the guy, I wanted to at least give him a piece of my mind. I guess he apologized but couldn't he at least have helped me up? Maybe he raised his arm and hit me in the nose deliberately.

I took the sweat soaked cloth home. No one could see what it was doing to me, no one could see what happened next. That didn't stop the feeling from making my face flush hot or making me feel perverted for doing it, but it happened. I left the musk on my muzzle and threw the tissues in the trash. I knew I was into males but not like this. I tried to go back to bed before I could think too much about what just happened.

Sleep. Alarm. Shower. Brush. Dress. Bus.

Coffee. Small talk. Typing. Lunch. More Typing. Sunset.

Gym. Sniff. Nothing.

Sleep. Alarm. Shower. Brush. Dress. Bus.

Coffee. Small talk. Typing. Lunch. More Typing. Sunset.

Gym. Sniff. Nothing.

Tomorrow I'll finally have a day off. I should be excited but the only thing I could think about was how much it was going to mess up my routine. Maybe that's the day my mystery guy decides to come back to the gym again. Was it his first time there? It's a big city maybe he was just passing buy and I'd never see him again... never smell him again.

The bus came to a stop on the way home. This is where I'd have to get out and catch the next bus to complete my route home. It was also right next to that miserable little hole in the wall where I decided I needed to change my life and throw everything into chaos again. At this point I felt like I could really use a drink and after all of my sweat sniffing, it sure wasn't going to hurt me to have to deal with that bartender again. I made my way down the block and found the place easily enough again, it's humid interior and loud jazz assaulting me before I even took one step back inside.

The bartender frowned at me as soon as I took a step in. Could he read my mind? Maybe you can read my thoughts you greasy fuck. I've had a rough week and I need something strong enough to make me forget it. I paused at the entrance for a moment just to make sure. He just kept that gaze, that look of someone sweat soaked in a miserable job. I didn't even make it to the bar stool before that scent stabbed at my nose again. No, it wasn't him. The boar had strong arms but it was pretty clear with that pot belly he wasn't a regular at any gym. The species wasn't right but that same intense musk was still there. I felt my sheath throb and quickly found a seat before the bulge in my pants was visible to anyone else.

Dammit why does he smell so good now? He didn't spend my last tip on deodorant that was obvious enough. I remember this guy stinking, but now he just smelled masculine and incredibly strong. Something must have changed, but that odor of his made me want to get closer to him. I wanted to stick my nose in his chest but the counter kept us a part, that and his cold stare. It was finally enough to make me self conscious, did I offend him in some way? What was going on?

"What do you want?" The boar's voice was stern and serious. I guess he was all business tonight.

I gulped and tried to keep my sniffing to a minimum. That aroma was so overpowering. "Can you just make me something strong please? It's been a rough week."

The bartender gave a grunt and started mixing drinks together. He didn't have much fur but it was dark cross his grey body and matted with more condensation than the bottles that decorated the walls behind him. He at least made a show of things, sticking to his craft and lifting the various bottles up high as the liquid fell down into the glass. My eyes immediately caught those dark tufts of fur under each armpit, the scent of them washing over me in waves. It was enough to make my tail wag uncontrollably and I began to see this hunk of a hog in a completely different light.

I tried to give him my best smile as a thank you when he slammed the drink in front of me with a loud thud, completing the gesture with another grunt. "Thanks. What do you call this?" The drink was an odd mixture of blue with green on the bottom.

"Something new." The boar took out a rag from beneath the counter to rub across his brow, then under each of his arms before throwing the rag onto the ground below. "I was thinking of calling it a stick of deodorant, but I guess that wouldn't be something I've heard of before."

I lost all feeling. Everything melted away except for that glare of his. I must have been so drunk last week that I didn't even realize what I said was actually out loud. I felt so small, I wanted to run away but I was too afraid to move. This boar smelled better than any male I had ever encountered before and by the time I was finally able to realize how much I liked it, I had already insulted him. I brought the drink to my muzzle and sipped it nervously, the clattering of the ice let him know that he got to me before he shuffled off to serve another customer.

I should just go home this was all a huge mistake. I could never come in this bar again and just go on with the rest of my life. Then I watched him make another drink and saw his armpit again. Great, now there's a lump in my pants and I can't get up. This is how the rest of the night went. I kept sniffing his scent and watching him make drinks until mine was empty. I kept putting bills on the table and he kept mixing me more drinks, blowing out hot air of disgust through his nostrils as he grabbed my payment.

I was too mesmerized to leave and before I realized it the boar and I were the only ones left in the bar. He mixed me a final drink before giving me one last menacing look. "That's last call."

I nodded and circled the drink around in my paws for a few moments, trying to let the alcohol take enough control of my brain to finally let me speak again. "I'm sorry." The words surprised both of us and I took a big sip of the drink before finding the courage again. "I'm sorry about what I said before."

"I didn't ask you for an apology." The boar's feelings were clearly still hurt. He never struck me as the sort of male that would handle them gently. "You don't need to keep coming back here."

"...but I want to."

"Why the hell would you want to?"

I tried to stare into my glass until he forgot I was there, but I could feel his gaze on me. I could smell his sweat, he was locked on me and wasn't moving. He was getting more and more frustrated that I wouldn't answer.

"This city is expensive. I don't have the luxury to go pissing my earnings away in a bar. When I come home I crack open a few beers like a regular guy, fall asleep and then go back to the grind." I kept my silence, just listening to his voice raise. "I gave up a lot to get this cramped little space to call my own. Yeah it's built like a sauna and the lights don't work for shit but it's mine and if I want to sweat in my own fucking bar then I'll get as sweaty as I damn well please." The jazz kept his yells from being heard by anyone else. His chest heaved up and down powerfully afterward, that low voice still ringing in my ears.

I didn't know what to do but nod. "I... I'm sorry."

He nodded right along with me. "Yeah? Well it's time to go. That's the last drink you're getting so what else do you want?"

What do I want? What else could I want... I didn't even know if he was going to let me come back in the bar after tonight. I guess if I really had my way I'd want him to show me his armpit so I could get another sniff of him, but I couldn't just ask for that.

"Show my what?"

Unless I said something out loud again by mistake again. "Armpit. Your armpit please."

The boar made his way out from behind the counter, practically marching around the side of the bar and came directly at me. His breath in deep huffs, seeming like he was more angry than before. Couldn't he see that I was just drunk? I thought he was winding his fist back to smash into my face but he stuck his palm behind his neck and showed me that dark tuft of sweat marinated fur under arm again.

He exceeded my expectations, not only did he lift his arm but he used the other hand to pull down his undershirt. He didn't seem the least bit embarrassed about showing off that part of his body. It made me wonder why he didn't just work without a shirt. "This is what you want, huh? You think I'm just some closet case dirty fuck that wants a drunk guy to sniff my pits?"

I leaned in closer to sniff him, but I wanted more. I pushed my muzzle closer and closer until I couldn't see that glare of his anymore. Once my nose was planted firmly in his armpit, I allowed my tongue to creep out and gently lick against the sweaty fur under his arm. It was softer than I imagined, I always expected the boar's hair to be thick and harsh but the fur parted easily and allowed me to taste the entirety of his masculine flavor. He tasted like something earthy and rich with testosterone. By the time I felt drunk enough on his sweat that glare of his turned into a look of confusion and I started to feel embarrassed about what I had just done.

He grunted to himself again before looking me over. "Maybe I am if I would let a pup like you do something like that to me." His voice was calm now, the surprise overwhelming the anger.

"I'm glad you did." My tail wagged at his change in tone.

I tried to hide my disappointment when he put his arm down again. The boar made his way over to the entrance and locked the door. I wasn't sure what was going on now. He made his way back behind the counter and pulled out an beaten and worn cardboard box that read "lost and found." After rummaging through it for a few moments he pulled out a small jar of Vaseline. When he came back around the bar toward me I thought he was going to let me lick his armpit again but he spun me around and pushed my chest down against the bar, leaning over top of me and breathing hard against my neck. "So now you like my sweat, is that it?"

I shook against his body as he leaned over me. I couldn't see him but I heard something slip and then saw his undershirt drop in a wet pile in front of me. "I guess so, I don't know..."

His paws went to find my belt, taking apart the buckle and pulling down at my pants hard enough to pop one of buttons off and allowing my sheath and exposed tip to feel the humidity of the bar's warm air across it. "You think I'm a closet case dirty fuck that wants to be like this with a pup like you?"

"I just think you're sexy." My voice whimpered as things escalated. I heard his pants hit the floor and smelled a new musk of his that had remained covered before, then feeling his hips press up behind me.

"You should have left when I told you last call. You didn't have to come back here." His motions hesitated and his breath got hotter. I could feel his heartbeat increasing against my back.

"I wanted to stay." I took another deep breath, noticing the rest of my drink on the counter and pressing it up against my lips to finish it. "I still want to come back."

I felt the boar smear something slick under my tail, grunting hotly all the while. We were both sweating like crazy now and he didn't try to stop me when I pulled off my own shirt. His sweaty chest was pressed up against mine, it felt stronger than I had imagined and he seemed like he was trying to still process what was going on. "You did this to me."

My ears lowered and my tail raised. "I know."

Before I could take in another breath he was already inside me. I didn't know enough about boars but I felt that corkscrew twist of his cock go in deep and fast. If I didn't have a belly full of alcohol I might have cried out, but all I felt was more warmth and something surprisingly thick sink into me with more ease than I would have imagined. The boar wasn't gentle and his breath only got hotter against my neck as his excitement increased. His hips locked against mine and he kept his thrust hard and deep, slamming me over and over again into the counter.

I yelped out in surprise but it didn't seem to faze him. I felt like I could smell his lust in the air, that blanket of sweat that covered his torso was now pouring onto me and soaking my fur. Before long he was the only thing I could smell anymore and the more he exerted himself the stronger that dense musk of his seemed to increase. The hog's belly rested perfectly against the small of my back while his hips rocked more and more upward, finding the deepest parts of me while he sought out his pleasure. My paws slipped south to caress my own length and feel his balls swinging under me. The touch only seemed to send him into more of a frenzy and he pushed his body forward even harder until he had my hips in both hands and was able to hold me exactly the way he wanted to.

I did my best to push back against him, hoping to bring him pleasure. The boar only shorted in response, reminding me that were both reduced to our more animal natures in this moment. His member twisted and turned deep inside of him, those long hair tips on his sheath tickling my pucker's entrance while he continued to assault the muscle over and over again. I felt my knot swell and pulled hard against the base along with his rhythm until my body wasn't able to sustain anymore and my excitement spilled onto the floor beneath us, one spurt in particular clinging to the base of the bar's counter.

Another low grunt escaped his maw, the boar biting onto my ear and reminded me of the ache of his member inside of me. My insides became sore once my orgasm escaped, forcing a whimper from me for just a short moment before I felt his erratic thrusting turn into one final strong push that pumped me full of warm gooey reward. The boar shook and shuddered for several moments, allowing even more of his sweat soaked body to cover me with his scent. I smelled like I belonged to him and I absolutely loved it. When he finally pulled out of me I turned around to lick at his other armpit. The damp furry cave was even better than the last, his exertion doubling the amount of body odor than the first time I licked him.

He didn't let me indulge myself for too long, gathering his things quickly and getting dressed. He looked distraught and nervous, his hands were shaking while he tried to pull his undershirt back on, fumbling for his keys in his pocket.

"Are you alright?" I didn't understand what happened. Was he feeling guilty.

"I don't know." He grunted loudly, putting away another bottle or two before switching off one of the lights in the back. "You don't know anything about me."

I tried to gather my own clothes, hoping to reassure him. "I want to."

"Yeah but you don't. You don't even know my name."

"What is it?"

The boar shook his head. He pulled one of the keys from his key ring and tossed it at me. "Lock up after you clean off the bar. I have customers coming in early tomorrow."

He rushed out before I could get another word. Was he so ashamed about what we did that he trusted me in here with the key? Maybe I did too much too fast. I have no idea what I'm doing. What if he never wants to see me again?

My head was spinning with more questions than answers. I had nothing more than that scent stuck in my nostrils again and a sore backside to show for it. He felt so good, smelled so good, why didn't I at least have the common decency to at least ask his name? I ran some hot water over a cloth and cleaned up what I could from the bar. Before I made my way out I spotted the rag he wiped his armpits with earlier when he made my first drink of the evening.

I locked the bar door behind me and waited for the next bus. The rag still clinging to my paws. I brought it back to my muzzle, sniffing deeply to remind myself of the boar's strong presence. The initials "H.M." were embroidered across one of the corners. At least that's a start.