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He had wanted the Doberman right from day one, from the very first moment the dog had dragged his suitcase and duffel bag through the door to their room in dorms. Lyle had been transfixed with his lucky draw of roommates, and his fantasy still plagued him to the very day they'd broken up for summer.

Roman was a god amongst men; everything the otter could have wanted in a guy. Stunning looks, winning smile, a voice that was as smooth as butter, a body that was probably sculpted by master craftsmen in the workshops of Heaven, and to top it all off a personality that would just make you give out the clichéd sigh of a typical swoon each time he spoke to you. He just had his ways, his ways to make you feel good, special, and worth it each time he gave you his attention, ways that would leave you weak at the knees and dreaming of him just sweeping off your footpaws. But Lyle was all too aware of his other side too. During the day, he was a charmer, but at night he was a demon. When the night came, he was a ruthless fucker.

Lyle, of course, meant that literally.

The dog had slept with plenty of chicks during their first year at college, gaining somewhat of a dark reputation amongst the guys and girls. The men respected him, knowing damn well that some of the rumours and whispers that followed him were pretty true, whilst the girls were all too keen to be the lucky one to have one arm wrapped around his. For the most part, Lyle had only heard but not seen, the walls too thin to blot out any sound of the orgasmic screams his hook-ups would belt out into the dorm, whilst the constant thumping of a headboard made sure to remind the otter that he was still going, right up until the early hours of the morning where he'd finally tie with his lay and let rip, grunting and growling like a beast at the rising sun as he'd seed whoever was fortunate enough to have made it this far without begging for him to stop. Lyle would usually wake up after they'd manage to get a few hours kip in, rested and refreshed like nothing had happened at all, acting innocent and nonchalant during breakfast until eventually she'd leave with Roman sporting a shit-eating grin on his face, the sign of a victor. The otter would teasingly rib his roommate on his nocturnal activities, joke about it once or twice, and maybe get an apology for the noise. The Doberman had offered, of course, to help Lyle out if he needed it. Unlike his roommate, he wasn't usually the sort to bring back guys, typically because he usually went to theirs, often mocked by Roman that he might as well be a girl for the amount of times he's not back at their room, spending the night elsewhere.

But there was something else between them that had always been both a little in-joke as well as a sobering note that they couldn't quite get past. It was why Roman knew that no matter how many of his teammates or jocks he shared the changing rooms with he suggested he could hook the otter up with for something more meaningful, he would always get turned down. It was the same reason why Lyle didn't make any active attempt to introduce the Doberman to any girls he knew, because of the off chance he might lose the dog. It was selfish, Lyle knew that much and pretty much flaunted the knowledge to himself every day, but he couldn't get past it.

Lyle had a crush on Roman - because who wouldn't - and so far only his careful manoeuvring around the subject and cautious approach to talking to the dog had saved him from landing himself in shit. Of course, that didn't mean he hadn't made subtle passes, offers help the dog out if he was ever stressed, to give him a chance for some no-strings-attached tension relief, someone to keep him company when the bed was cold and empty. He didn't get very far, not that he expected to get anywhere at all, but it was still always worth a shot. Maybe just one day Roman might decide to swing the other way, Lyle would hope. Get too drunk one day, get bored of girls, get curious what fucking with a guy was like, anything that could mean the otter would have the Doberman all to himself, even just one night...

But, much like any guy Lyle pined for, it was always much the same answer. Either he was taken or he was straight, and in this instance Roman was irrefutably straight. He was flattered though, like he knew damn well how attractive he was to either sex, and always thanked Lyle for being interested in him, but their friendship had always stayed at that platonic level. The otter had resigned himself to that, crushed as he was, but that didn't mean he couldn't have fun with the situation...

It was opportunities like now, for instance, that Lyle's temptation got the better of him.

They'd just broken up from their first year, which meant only one thing for his alpha jock of a roommate: spring break. Lots of hot summer sun, time spent on the waterfront, chatting up girls ready to cut loose for some post-exams stress-free fun. It was an uncomplicated time, a chance to just drink the weary blues away of panicked days with heads stuffed in textbooks and frantic scribbles of pens in exams, and a time for where they could do whatever the fuck they pretty much wanted. Most of their friends had raced down to the beaches before you could even have a chance to just unwind from the strain of it all, all heading to the typical clubbing locales to get their buzzes on along with the rest of the teen crowds. Roman however had different plans. His uncle owned a cabin up near a lake, a little bit further inland than where most spring breakers would go, but it was a decent enough camp site in the surrounding area that it was teeming with college kids soaking up the sun. Lyle had been invited along, a spare room ready for him so that he could join the Doberman.

Lyle had said he was going just for the guys, to see lots of ripped dudes all with their tops off, getting way beyond just drunk to absolutely hammered, where the difference between a girl's ass and a guy's no longer mattered, that they were just happy someone was offering to give them a warm, tight place to put it. The otter would get called a pervert by the dog as a joke, but it probably wasn't all that far from the truth, Lyle mused.

His real reason for going though, sat right in his paws now; Roman's boxers, ripe with his sweat and musk, fresh from dirty laundry, just waiting for him to use however he saw fit.

They'd maybe arrived at the cabin a day or so ago, but that didn't mean the Doberman hadn't wasted time in scoping out the local action. They'd so far been to several cabin parties, managed to swing their way onto a booze cruise around the lake on some rich dude's boat whilst a private party went on around them, all the while managing to score successful lays for the pair of them. Roman found himself a tall, curvy rabbit whilst Lyle had somehow found his way into the tent of a foreign exchange student spending his last summer in the country before heading home - a rather beefy lion who didn't have much to say and preferred to just do what he would. Not that Lyle complained, as the guy sported an impressive set of balls that left him dripping seed all the way back to the cabin, where he had the awkward encounter of meeting Roman's hook-up hastily leaving before sunrise, passing her on his way in. When he'd answered the door, the Doberman was wearing these exact same boxers - striped with different shades of bright purple, a little bit of white intermingled in there. He could tell they were the same pair he'd worn that night. They had cum stains where he must have dressed himself to say farewell to the girl as she's scurried out. The white splotch on the fabric glistened as Lyle twisted it in the light. It was almost pathetic how badly he wanted to suck the stain out, to breathe in the seasoned stench.

Roman, of course, didn't know this was going on. He was currently out at the moment, probably just off somewhere chatting up a girl or downing some sickening cocktail of mismatched booze, chugging down the whole pitcher as a bet. Something stupid seemed to be the safest bet. It meant he would be out of the cabin for a while. Long enough for Lyle to be finished before the dog even got back.

So here he lay now, the otter lying flat on his back, staring straight up to the wooden beams of the ceiling, the soft summer breeze rolling in through an open window somewhere in the building, door drifting open on the current, curtains fluttering from the draught. The fresh smell of cold, refreshing water clung to the air, creating a gentle dampness to the air that was always a cooling sensation during the hot days, and a pleasant relief in the night hours. He'd undressed because of the heat today, using the excuse that he was far too lazy and tired to go out into the beating sun and try and have a good time. Roman had bought it of course, going about his business without the otter, and Lyle had immediately taken the chance to undress, his clothes splayed about the room - shorts discarded to the side, belt hung from the bedpost at his footpaws, shirt thrown over the back of a chair. When the dog had finally left, he'd snuck into his room, found his laundry basket, and dug out the richest smelling pair he could find, that being his post-hook-up purple boxers the rabbit had had the luck of seeing beneath. He had the very same boxers in his paws, the cloth still moist with sweat, its scent almost impossible to ignore as it smothered any of the surrounding woodland winds.

It was all the otter could focus on though, the feel of the fabric beneath his paws, his imagination running wild with all the things he could right now. But one thing had to come first, above all else, the initial, first sniff of sweaty underwear. Lyle lifted the boxers to his nose, pressing them to his face, bunched up in a single paw, and took a deep, long inhale. Swimming aromas of musk, bitter flavours of sweat, stale cum, maybe the tiniest hints of piss from a time when he'd not shaken off entirely after a bathroom visit. It all swirled and danced upon Lyle's sinuses, shaking up a chorus of smells and sensations in his body. It made him shudder, like every part of his body was electrified by the sheer feeling of smelling the scent of a strong, alpha male. Probably just the submissive side of himself, he assumed, but the reaction was practically primal and animalistic. He was driven insane by smelling some discarded underwear of another man, that to him was something he wouldn't deny was dark, depraved maybe, and undoubtedly kinky. But it was just that thought that there he was, wheezing deep snorts from his roommate's underwear, a pair of boxers he'd worn only mere hours ago before he'd popped in to change to swimming gear, the knowledge that getting caught would be so ridiculously easy, and that above all this he just couldn't stop himself. He rubbed the underwear all over his face, closing his eyes and moaning softly from euphoric exultation, his mind conjuring up images of that god roommate of his, wondering how those chiselled muscles would feel beneath his paws, all sweaty and ripe, how that power and strength could bend him over, manhandle like he was nothing but a paperweight, and then lift his tail only to ease in with one shove of his rock hard cock deep into his waiting hole... It was fucking unreal, Lyle squirming on the bed as his free paw could only grope at his body. He was nude save for his own underwear, a simple jockstrap, but he would reach and squeeze at his throbbing bulge that pressed out. A wet spot had already begun forming, the tell-tale sign of where he was getting too excited from inhaling Roman's musk, but he lost in his own bliss to really care. If he carried on, he'd have to jack off, there would be no question or second-guessing about it. He'd just have to whip out his dick and furiously stroke out a load. His brain had just surrendered to lust, his arousal getting way more than just the better of him.

Fuck it. He had to.

Desperately, burying his nose deep into the pit of where the dog's sheath and balls must have bulged out, Lyle tugged at his jock, pushing the underwear out the way to let his cock flop free. He felt his member slap up against his abdomen, his tip drooling already with far too many errant dribbles of pre, and he grasped it almost immediately in one paw after pushing his balls free. Lyle began to stroke himself his back arching as he writhed, groaning aloud whilst he continued to breathe and inhale every particle he could from the sweaty boxers. He was all but stuffing them into his mouth nearly, kissing the fabric as if it were some kind of divine relic, cherishing its scents, its flavours, its presence in every sense he had. Lyle's mind was a mess as he felt himself drawing to a rather quick and abrupt climax, his moans becoming headier and squeakier until he might as well have been hollering up into the rafters from orgasmic ecstasy. His whole body bucked from the force as he came, streaks of otter jizz shooting up his body as he cock throbbed in his wet paw, grunting and mewling whilst he rode the waves of his climax from start to finish. His eyes were clenched shut, his teeth gritted, whilst he just inhaled sharply, deeply, for one long continuous breath, sobering in the scent until he was delirious in the afterglow. Ribbons of cum marked all along his chest, matting his fur as it soaked into his coat, the smell mingling in the air, barely detectable to himself though he suspected snorting Roman's underwear might have dulled his senses somewhat temporarly. It didn't matter; he lay there gasping, casually letting the whiffs of his roommate's boxers drift through his nose as he panted.

"Enjoyed yourself, did you?"

The sudden voice snapped everything back to reality brutally though.

Lyle nearly flailed off the bed, startled by the intruder, paws darting to cover himself though his grip on the boxers let go, leaving them to drape across his face as he hid his erection. But it didn't hide the aftermath of his orgasm, which lay in plain view splattered all across his stomach, still wet and dribbling as it pooled where it may,

"Holy fuck!"

Standing in the doorway was the last person he obviously would have wanted to catch him in the act. Roman looked pissed. His face, usually cheerful and witty, had a dark, sombre expression, his eyes glazed over in shadow, whilst that shit-eating grin Lyle had become accustomed to over the year now gone, replaced with a downturn frown. Whether it was from anger, dismay, or just disappointment, he couldn't place it. The dog had his arms folded over that glorious chest of his, leaning one shoulder against the door frame, one footpaw crossed over the other as if he were just casually standing there, about to have a normal chat with a friend. His gaze pierced into Lyle, almost accusing him, but then far too soft to be anything aggressive and frightening. That didn't mean it was any less intimidating though. A hot flush of shame had already spread across the otter's cheeks as he felt like he was burning up on the spot, knowing how incredibly bad this must look. Especially to the guy who actually owned and used the boxers he'd just came to the smell of.

"I thought we were cool."

"We are!" Lyle snatched the boxers from his face, trying not to smear it against the cum on his torso, "I'm sorry, we're totally cool! I'm so sorry, man. Fuck, please, I'm sorry. I don't know what came over me."

"I thought it'd be awesome having a gay guy as a roommate, someone not prissy or camp, just to be a bro. I honestly thought you'd just let it go that we'd never be a thing." Lyle didn't reply. It was clear the Doberman had something to say, whether it was prepared or not, but it seemed like interrupting would serve him no purpose. He could only sit there in the evidence of his betrayal, waiting for the chance to leave and clean up, and then maybe piece back together the shattered trust they'd once had. Roman pinched the bridge of his muzzle, right between the yes, and rubbed, eyes scrunched shut, "Like, I said no, that should have been it, right? But you kept flirting, kept making passes at me, and I just thought it was cute, didn't try to dwell on it. Gay guys are just like that right, innocent until they actually get somewhere, then that's a bonus?" Lyle didn't nod, he didn't really have to, "But then you get me thinking... what would it be like? You know? Like, what would it be like if we actually fucked? It's not gay, or anything, because it's just you. I don't wanna fuck any other dude, but you. Because you offered and I know it's totally cool. Because you left that option open for me like a fucking welcome mat."

"Roman... I..."

"So yeah, I think I will," Roman said, affirming himself, standing up straight in the doorway, "I think I will finally see what it's like, because I can't deal with you constantly wanting what you can't have. So I get to satisfy my curiosity, and you can finally get what you want for once. Then we don't have to deal with this shit anymore and move on, right?"

Lyle didn't say anything. Either answer felt wrong to give, especially when the Doberman looked so incensed. It was probably best to just let the hulking brute do what he wanted and go along with it.

"Yeah, it'll be fine. It's not gay."

He started to make his way across the room, heading towards the bed, towards Lyle, he could only really back up onto the covers, the small of his back hitting the pillows. It wasn't quite terrifying, but it something between unsettling and disconcerting, enough to leave him with an uneasy feeling in the pit of his gut. The Doberman had a steady sway to his pace though, like he wasn't particularly worried about what he'd just suggested he'd do. It was essentially the biggest challenge to his sexuality, but he wasn't even batting an eyelid as his paws picked up the belt from the post, slipping it off and testing the strength in his grasp. A loud snap ripped out into the air, as the belt clapped together. Lyle didn't know what he planned to do with it, it could be to beat his ass, as he truly had no idea what sort of shit the Doberman might have been into. For all the otter knew, he could very well be a sadist of some sort, that his girls loved his intense love-making, but never returned because it scared them away. It would make sense, but Lyle could understand their point of view too as the light was blotted out by the dog's massive silhouette, his body towering over him on the bed. He looked up, almost with pleading eyes, as he waited painful seconds for what would come next.

Reaching down, Roman made a grab for his wrists. Lyle didn't try to fight back. He felt, in some twisted sense, that he deserved what was about to happen. He didn't resist as the dog pulled his arms about him and looped the belt around his paws, and then around the iron posts of the headboard, pulling it tight, the sound of the leather snagging loud in the otter's ears. His arms were bound above him, fixed to the head of the bed, with the Doberman leaning over him. Lyle had always run through situations like this in his head, in his dreams, where his excitement would get the better of him and he needed some imagination to help him let off a little steam. The circumstances might change, it could be something romantic and deep, other times it would be dirty and immaterial, but he had never expected to dog to actually make the move himself, to enforce it on the otter. Roman's breathing was heavy, as it was too much for him to even heave a single breath, laboured as if he were struggling. The otter supposed it was to be expected - it cut close to rape, what he was doing. It was only fortunate Lyle had wanted this for so long and made himself available.

But above it all, it was the smell that got him going once again. The underwear was gone, sure, but now he had the source of that stench lumbering over him, casting a shadow over his body. Lyle could feel the atmosphere around him, charged with tension, become sweltered in the dog's heat and musk. It was virile, strong, consuming. It wasn't a gradual build of aromas but a full on wall of pheromones and goodness knows what else that got the otter squirming in anticipation, biting his bottom lip whilst Roman simply stared at him. He didn't even seemed to focused on what he was doing anymore, his eyes glazed,

"It's not gay."

He squatted up onto the bed, knelt between Lyle's legs. The otter didn't say anything, he just watched. Roman pushed his thighs back with either paw, pushing his roommate up, so that his ass was exposed. For a moment, Lyle feared he'd just start fucking, that he'd never done anal and this would mark the first occasion, but what surprised him more was that the Doberman, his straighter-than-straight friend, a guy who'd shown himself to be nothing but a womaniser and a beast in the sack, leant down and lowered his muzzle to the otter's exposed rear. Lyle could feel the warmth of panted, ragged breaths against his hole, his body tingling with the knowledge that Roman was just a small gap away from his waiting ass,

"It's not gay..."

He didn't say much else, the mere affirmation enough for him as Lyle suddenly felt him plunge in, not wasting a moment more as he lapped at the otter's hole. His whole body flexed and pulled at his restraints, toes curled as a warm, rough, rasping tongue slurped at his entrance. Lyle hadn't even thought the Doberman would be into rimming, perhaps going down on a girl was fine, but the ass, he'd always expected Roman to consider that, like most straight men, to be a no go zone for the mouth. Sure, there would always be talk that doing a girl up the ass was the best thing in the world, but Lyle hadn't considered if his roommate didn't mind sticking his tongue up there. But sure enough, as he slowly worked spit and saliva into his crack, the otter could feel himself loosen up against the dog's muzzle. Lips kissed his hole as if Roman were making out were any other girl, digging his tongue in deep and flexing it, working as his muscle pressed at Lyle's. His rim would open though, that much was clear, as the otter was used to the treatment. It wasn't the first time he'd been rimmed, but normally it was by a guy who didn't have a long history of banging chicks in the other room. The feeling was no different, regardless of who was delivering it though, and for Lyle it was a welcome sensation of having Roman eat out his ass. The noises he made though were anything but innocent and bland, where through squeaked moans by the otter came the louder, greasier sound of Roman slurping his way at the otter's hole. It had sparked Lyle's lust once again, his cock pulsing once more despite still dripping with spent jizz and tapping against his abdomen with each decidedly rough shove of the tongue at his rear. He probably would have reached down and jacked himself off whilst a guy rimmed him, were his paws not tied above his head.

The intent though wasn't lost on the otter. As Roman tossed his salad, he was busy groping himself, maybe getting all hot and bothered by the fact he was about to get some tail, maybe it was just to stir himself up, who knew. All Lyle was certain about was that his roommate was sidling out of his trunks, kicking them off with an awkward flick of one footpaw. It landed somewhere, didn't matter where, but they were gone, leaving Lyle tied to his bed with Roman snuffling above his tail, tongue-deep and now completely nude, one paw massaging at his sheath as his cock slipped out.

Now the otter wouldn't lie and said he'd never seen the dog naked before. The guy wasn't modest, so he didn't blame himself to sneaking a quick glance, either just out of instinct to look or because he was fascinated with what lay beneath the hood. But naturally sharing a room together meant that Lyle would sometimes see more than he should. Suppose Roman had forgotten to lock his door one night whilst relieving himself online, or say he'd brought home a girl and neglected to let the otter know of his plans, or that he'd not put a tie on the door knob, then Lyle often caught a glimpse of something much more than just a normal guy in the buff. Sure, they were only brief looks, but it was enough for the otter to build up his awareness of the dog's crown jewels. Though he'd never had a chance to take a closer inspection, he knew that Roman was hung. That much he knew from the whispers that would circulate from loose-lipped lasses, but 'hung' could mean plenty of things, Lyle was well aware. He'd seen himself his fair share of supposedly big dicks, like when a rumour had circulated that the sexually flexible captain of the swim team had a nice package after a day of wearing a particularly tight speedo, but when the otter had finally caught him alone for a casual blow-job, 'hung' had turned out to be nothing more than thick and stout. The flamboyant head of the college council had turned out to be the opposite; a tiger with what Lyle would refrain from calling 'pencil-thin'cock but something that definitely reached deeper places than he'd expected inside him. Roman however had been a mystery, until now finally.

As the dog lifted his muzzle up from Lyle's soaked hole, he shuffled forwards on his knees, his cock swinging between his legs. The otter didn't waste time in scoping out what he was about to take, staring down at Roman's crotch. 'Hung' rumours didn't do it justice. He was probably one of the largest guys the otter had seen, with the shaft a soft pallid pink and covered with thin trailing veins that snaked across its wet flesh. It glistened in the light, probably just somewhere between half a foot or longer, with staggering thickness. Lyle only hoped this was him at his hardest, otherwise he was in for one hell of a ride that would leave him split open. At the base of the cock was the knot, either a gift or a nightmare to some of the canine species, and whilst Lyle could see that it was just about protruding from Roman's sheath, it looked to already be swelling, a slight bump indicating where it began. Beneath all that were the dog's balls - Lyle had already known they were fat fuckers, as he didn't need his roommate to be jacking off or fucking a girl to see what Roman had been blessed with. He didn't know just what exactly they were capable of, but if the size were any clue, he knew it would only be good things.

Roman lifted Lyle's thighs even further back, pushing his weight onto the upper half of his back. The otter's cock slipped through the remnants of his first orgasm, smearing a trail of drying cum and fresh pre along his stomach as his ass came into sight. It was one of the perks of missionary that Lyle so enjoyed, though once again he had never thought he'd be in the position with the Doberman, least of all with his wrists bound. But still, it didn't cut away from the moment, his breathing shallow and short, his eyes darting back and forth, from Roman's passive expression down to his meaty shaft. He could see droplets of pre oozing from the dog's tip, a good sign, if anything, that the guy was at least aroused and enjoying himself, if nothing else suggested that. Looming over the otter, he took a hold of his cock in one paw and lifted it up, only to then let it drop on Lyle's wet hole. He both felt and heard the smack, a loud, almost embarrassing sound as it was pretty clear who was in charge here. The canine stroked his dick, smearing whatever there was around the otter's waiting hole whilst spreading the rest across his length, lubing himself up.

"This is what you wanted, didn't you?" It was rhetoric. Lyle didn't need to answer. He didn't really get a chance as Roman lifted his member up once again and placed the head to his entrance. Without waiting a single second, he pushed in, the opening spreading around his tip only to then engulf the first inch slowly as it was fed into him. Lyle gasped and moaned as he was stretched, feeling the weight behind Roman's hips pushing himself forward. He just had to relax, to let the dog do his thing and adjust as best he could. The rimming had helped, but it wouldn't have prepared him for the behemoth now being pushed against his hole. He winced when he felt the head pop inside, the shaft following in a fatter girth. It was always tough, no matter how many times you let a guy fuck you, unless you could and were willing to stretch yourself wider and wider on a constant basis. But Lyle wasn't one of those guys. For as much as he liked getting bred, he always made sure to not overwork himself. There were benefits to a tight ass: the other guy would enjoy it more, he'd want to go longer or even a second round, you could safely pass gas without a worry. Sure, it hurt now, as if Roman weren't trying to slide his dick into him but instead was cramming a red hot poker into his guts, but it was worth it.

Roman was, despite the nature of the situation, surprisingly forgiving with Lyle. He didn't try to simply slam in all at once, nor did he try and go steady as he pushed inside. If Lyle had any say, he would have guessed the dog had done this before. It didn't seem too ambitious to suppose a girl had been kinky enough to offer him her other hole to fuck, but then that didn't explain the experience. Maybe he was proficient at it purely through luck, he didn't know, but it was a godsend at the very least. Lyle, whilst letting out the occasionally grunt just from sheer discomfort alone, or from a twinge of pain that would flicker in his ass, was thankful Roman seemed to know what he was doing. Each time he did, Roman would just stop, he maybe pull a little back, wait for Lyle's face to rest back to mid-moan and panting before pushing back in again. Slowly he would ease in and out, working the otter open, as they slipped past the halfway point. From there, it was easier, as the thickness evened out and Lyle was accommodating the meat being pushed into him. He could still feel tremors tickling up his spine, quivers shaking all through his body as Roman hilted his cock inside. The knot was pressed right against the rim, but Roman didn't try to go any further. He probably knew well enough there'd be a time for that.

He pivoted his hips back, pulling his cock out slowly, pink flesh emerging from the otter's darker rim. Lyle could just about see, though the feeling of the shaft exiting from his hole was perhaps more prominent in his head, his guts sucked along by the member. Lyle gasped, wriggling on the bed as he tried to fight the sensation of clenching down on Roman's member. The Doberman didn't seem too concerned with what the otter was doing though, only paying attention to whenever he seemed in pain or when he was sore. His eyes would flit from the otter's upturned ass up to his face, then back again as inch after inch of the dog's fat cock emerged from his hole. Lyle could feel every inch as it slid out, letting off dulled whimpers as it stroked along his insides. Roman held himself just when he got to the head, leaving perhaps just an inch or two in without completely pulling out. Then he just slid right back forwards, burying what he'd just pulled out into the otter's waiting depths.

For as much as would writhe, it made difference to how fast the Doberman went. Lyle was forced to submit to the dog's pace, which for now was slow but consistent and at the forefront of the otter's mind. Each time he bottomed out, he would push forward, as if to remind Lyle just exactly what he was doing, that he was going to breed that hole well and truly. It would press against his prostate though, making his cock jump in the jolt of pleasure it brought him, a jet of pre dribbled onto his chest and neck. It was just too much stuffed into him all at once, Lyle suddenly realising this is how the girls must feel when they sleep with the dog, but he couldn't do anything about it. Maybe they couldn't either, maybe he just held them down and told them it'd feel good once they got into it. Maybe he charmed them into persisting. That probably made sense. But Lyle hadn't been charmed, he'd offered and finally been caught, and now he was paying the price as he felt Roman rework his guts into a sleeve for his cock, inches just barrelling through back and forth as he brought himself to a decent pace. It was measured, neither rushed nor languid, and it made sure that Lyle could feel it all. Slow enough to allow him to concentrate on the sensations, but quick enough so that he wouldn't grow used to them. If anything, it was smart of the dog, almost like he was punishing Lyle for stealing his underwear.

As Roman rode him hard, pounding his ass with strong, fluid strokes, Lyle was brutally aware that whilst it wasn't enough to get him going, he was feeling pleasure creep out over the discomfort of having his hole shoved full of dick. It was slight, just something skimming the surface, but it was there. It would rise up each time Roman pushed deep inside, for about a second or two, before it was gone in a flourish. Of course, it would return each time the Doberman slammed forward, his muscles working in beautiful motion as he tapped away at his ass, but it would only be in that single moment. Lyle whined, frustrated as he was that he could do nothing to help, nothing to even relieve himself and let himself get lost in the scene, it was up to Roman to do all the work. At some points he sped up, banging his cock hard into him, so much so that his balls would swing and bounce against the base of Lyle's tail, the sound of smacking hips against his cheeks clapping in the quiet of the cabin, only for the dog to then slow down. He'd crawl to an abysmal pace where he'd ease himself out, until only the tip sat at the entrance, before he'd ram back in without mercy. Each time he would, Lyle would cry out in agonised ecstasy, cries he was sure were probably uncanny to those that had shook through his walls back at college.

All the while Roman appeared stoic, aside from perhaps the occasional bare of his fangs as he gave a grunt or a wince across his face as he worked up a sweat. Beads of it would trickle down his body, rolling along the curves of his muscles, like something straight out of an advert. It was ridiculous, as Lyle watched his hunk of a roommate plough his ass, his tool pushing in only to be removed within a fleeting instance. The smell was godly, however, as Lyle basked in its warm glow. Roman's musk had now built up, freed by his sweat, and it drifted in the air in waves, the scent of pre and cum underlying it all. Each time the otter breathed, he would catch the stench in his nose without fail. Add to that the delicious sound of the cock slurping at his ass, the sight just within his gaze of inches just disappearing into his hole, only to then reappear pulling his rim back along with it, clinging to its thickness. The sensation beyond that was intoxicating, as Lyle's depths became sensitive to it all, each throb of that dick inside him, every pulse of pre that spurted into him, it all added up.

Roman gave off a low growl,

"Oh, fuck..." He trailed on the last syllable, the word fading into hissed air as he started to slam hard against Lyle. The otter realised why. He was getting close. And when a canine got close, that meant they were ready to tie. He could see Roman's cock, for when it actually slowed to a point where he could focus on it, and the knot had swollen to an eye-watering size. Even for a moment, Lyle was convinced he wouldn't be able to take it, at least not today without any kind of warm-up. It wasn't his first, but even taking big guys, foreplay and a shit tonne of lube had always helped to get to the grand finale of the grand dick. It was probably the size of a pomegranate, maybe larger, who knew. It was big.

Though trying to stop Roman from knotting him didn't seem to be a possibility. The dog hadn't listened to him before, he'd already tied up his wrists, so why not his ass too. He was clearly intent on giving him the full treatment. If Lyle were honest with himself though, there was a small part that didn't care if he did shove that knot into him. As Roman thumped away at his hole, that fat knot smacking against his rim and pushing inside a little harder each time, he could feel the side of him that was relishing in the mounting euphoria that was just telling him to go with the flow, to roll with it. For as stupid as it was, Lyle was inclined to choose that side as the pleasure steamed in his gut. His panting was erratic, quicker than Roman's, but there was nothing he could do to pass the edge and actually cum. He'd already spent a load once, only a few moments ago, so a repeat performance was proving to be difficult. But that didn't mean Roman was having any trouble. Lyle didn't know if he was truly close or just on the cusp, but he was determined on getting his knot into the otter's hole. He seemed to be putting more and more force behind each thrust until it was shaking the bed, Lyle's body pressing up into the pillows each time Roman ploughed forward. He could feel himself giving way, if only slightly over each push, but it was working away at his hole's resistance.

Roman slammed his hips into Lyle's ass with sharp, juddering fucks; they were short, with just the few final inches shoving into him over and over. But then it happened. Just as Lyle had expected, there was a sudden, piercing pain as he spread wider than before, one harder thrust than the rest finally breaking the barrier. He howled aloud, the yell strangled in his throat, whilst Roman roared like some kind of beast, hips flush with Lyle's ass, gritting his teeth and head thrown back. But for the otter, the sensation of that knot bloating up in his gut, the wracking throbs of pain and pleasure that spread through him was enough to set him off. He whimpered and cried out in confused ecstasy as he came a second time, another load shooting and splattering over him. Several shots streaked across his face whilst Roman humped his hole, working towards his own climax. Lyle just coughed, his own seed landing in his mouth, the taste bittersweet and earthy on his tongue. He swallowed some of it, just so he could breathe, whilst his cock continue to pump and pulse more cum over his chest, the squirts becoming more and more infrequent and less copious until it was just dribbling. Left panting, he quickly cottoned on that Roman hadn't yet cum, and he was left to wait it out, his body climbing down from the orgasmic high, as the Doberman worked to his.

"Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!" He punched the words into the air before giving off a contented growl, sighing as he pushed himself in deep, his full weight leant against Lyle's ass. The otter could feel the jets inside him, hot and heavy as they spurted into his guts. It was a sudden wetness, a flood almost, of seed that coursed into him, each throb of that fat cock delivering more and more. Lyle could feel it backing up, with nowhere to go except either around the swollen knot that now plugged and tied to his hole or deeper down into his guts. Gravity helped, his insides swirling with dog jizz, and a little splattered back against his cheeks, against Roman's crotch, coating it in a thin sheen of watery cum. The rest, Lyle assumed by the sensations of heat and cramping in his guts, descended deeper, his abdomen swelling with the load the Doberman was pumping into him.

Roman collapsed to one side as he overcame his orgasm, both exhausted from the bout of rutting. He didn't bother to untie Lyle, it didn't seem to be a priority to him, but the otter didn't care to mention it either. He just lay there, turned awkwardly to one side now as his ass was still pressed against the dog's sodden groin, cum leaking from his ass soaking onto their balls. The occasional throb of Roman's cock made Lyle jump and shudder with the sensitivity, his body still recovering. At least though, the worst of it was over, if he were to call finally getting bred by your crush 'worst', but it was done. Perhaps not how he'd have wanted it to go, but it was done.

He could hear Roman's staggered pants as he gained his breath back loud in his ear, but the dog didn't move to hold him or cuddle him, like he might have expected from a guy after sex. Though he wasn't quite sure what to expect to happen now; would they return to normal, to how things were before Lyle had been caught with the boxers, or would it be awkward?

There was a tug on the otter's ass that roused him from his orgasm-stupor. A tight pain on his ass as Roman pulled himself back. He didn't honestly think he was gonna pull his knot free from his hole, did he?

Sure enough, Roman seemed dead set on it. He took a hold of his cock, below the knot, and the other was braced against Lyle's back. The otter couldn't fight back as he felt the Doberman pull hard on his dick, eliciting a shrill cry from him as, with a slick, lewd pop, he pulled his cock free. There was a dirty squelch as what had to be half a gallon or so of backed up seed gush out of his ruined hole, the rim stretched, its strength gone for the time being. Lyle whimpered as he couldn't stop the flow, feeling it pour from his ass and onto the bed spread. Roman just casually got up, limp cock swinging between his legs, dripping with seed. It looked so tempting to lick clean, but the otter wasn't even offered the chance as the Doberman snatched up his boxers and wiped himself on them before tossing them onto the soiled bed sheets. Before he left, he finally unwound the belt from around Lyle's paws, leaving the male to collapse onto the bed, curled up, ass in the centre of a puddle of the Doberman's jizz, rubbing his wrists as he rested. That would be it, surely. It was all over now. It was no longer all just a fantasy. It had been a reality, and from now on Lyle wasn't sure whether it would be either or none them at all.

"You're doing my fucking laundry," Roman barked, as he made his way for the door in the nude, "I don't want to touch your cum stains on my underwear." He stopped just at the doorway, paw placed upon the frame as he looked behind him at his fatigued roommate, "Oh, and don't start sniffing my underwear like a weirdo again. Get a boyfriend, for fuck's sake and sniff his."