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My brother, Brendan, is a pretty cool guy - and that's not only because he makes a little more than twice what our mother does (and that he dropped out of college so he could keep that high-paying job, imagine that), or because I get to brag to my friends about his achievements, or that people used to come to me to compliment him on his looks, or that you just look at him and think damn, he sure nailed the tech-hipster look today, or any of that.

I mean, yeah, those all contribute to him being cool, but there are lots of other reasons, too. I was up visiting him one week, him and his girlfriend and their two pet cats and one dog, and Brendan said he'd pay for anything that I wanted to do within reason, that if I wanted to go to the store to get something I could take his card and he'd handle it, that if I wanted to see a movie or go to the amusement park he'd cover it... and then, the best part: he and his girlfriend were going to be out for the night... doing... something, I wasn't paying attention, so he asked me to watch their pets for them - as if I had a choice - and that he'd pay me fifty dollars for the trouble.

Wow. We had two cats back with Mom and she never paid us anything to watch them.

It was how he made the offer that interested me, though: the two of us were downstairs, me on the couch watching TV and him cooking something, and he just abruptly brought it up: "So we're gonna be gone tonight, and I was thinkin' you could watch the creatures."

I turned the volume down. It was a bit warm inside today, so I didn't have a shirt on. "Yeah?"

"Yeah. I was thinkin'... like, fifty dollars for the night? You know how to handle cats, and as for Kahlo..." -that was their dog, a male feral husky that easily weighed as much as I did - "...well, shouldn't be hard. You've watched dogs before, right? I think Toby's?"

"Oh, yeah, yeah." Toby was a coyote I knew, friend of mine since elementary. He had a nice black lab bitch who enjoyed cuddling, nuzzling, and other things. "For a few weekends."

"Yeah. Kahlo likes going for walks, and he's really playful. So, like - if he sits by the front door, walk 'im. He doesn't really like doing the same route too often-"

"I don't know my way around here."

"Yeah, so, you'll be golden. If he sits by the back door, take 'im outside, wait for 'im to do his business, take 'im back inside. Sometimes he wants to sleep on the bed, and I guess that's okay if you let 'im sleep on your bed. Other than that, I guess..." Brendan shrugged, and looked over his shoulder at me. Dark amber eyes, the color of tree sap, glinted in the kitchen light. "Give 'im whatever he wants. He's spoiled - if you don't, he'll just keep on botherin' ya."

That's what it was - 'give him whatever he wants', coupled with that glance back at me. My brother knew firsthand the outward boundary of my depravity, having walked in once (or two or three times) in high school when I was... enjoying myself to videos of people and their dogs, and I swear he'd heard me and my boyfriend go at it around that time, because whenever the two of us went upstairs, Brendan went back downstairs... and one time when it was him visiting me, he got back from a coffee shop or whatever, went into the living room, set up his computer, glanced out the window, and got an eyeful of a naked me on my knees in the backyard with my Arcanine roommate emptying his bladder onto/into my muzzle.

So. Yeah. 'Give him whatever he wants'. Kahlo had turned from a little puppy into a full-grown adult dog since the last time I'd visited, and within a few minutes of walking through the door, it was clear to me that Brendan had never gotten him neutered - I mean, when you look at a peach tree, it's a lot easier to see the (delicious, sumptuous) fruits when they're there than when they're not, right? Besides that, I'm not entirely sure how feral dogs are, but - when they meet a new person who smells almost exactly like their owner (I knew that from experience), who looks pretty similar, who sounds pretty similar... won't that dog make sure that other dogs know that this new person is theirs?

...If that's a bit confusing, I'll put it like this: I expected Kahlo to 'claim' me (and you can figure out what that means). Me being me, if he tried, I'd totally let him - and I kinda-sorta had permission from Kahlo's owner, too, so. There you go. Of course I agreed; Brendan paid me the money up front; we went about our day until around 1 PM; and then he and his girlfriend went off to whatever it was they had plans to, leaving me - alone - with two cats - and one dog.

One dog. One big, fluffy, muscled dog, with mismatched blue-and-green eyes as opposed to the standard blue-brown coloration often found in huskies; one dog whose energy seemed to come and go in waves, with him running around the house banging his curl-tail against everything one moment and then being flopped upside-down on the couch or floor or wherever the immediate next; one dog who, like one of our pet cats with Mom, liked eating marshmallows, popcorn, and Doritos;

one dog who came up and rested his muzzle in my lap almost as soon as my brother and his girlfriend had left the house. It kinda startled me, as I had my eyes on the television, but it didn't seem like Kahlo particularly wanted anything right now, other than maybe ear scritches and pets. I gave him some of these - God, I love how soft doggy ears are - and he just closed his eyes and nuzzled into it. Sweet pup.

Already this time was different than when I watched Toby's dog; that bitch nuzzled into my crotch almost as soon as we were alone with the intention of getting me off... well, I don't really know if that was her attention, but she didn't stop after I tried to push her away once or twice, didn't stop when I got up and went into the other room, didn't stop when I tried to push her away again, so eventually I just gave into it, and she sure didn't stop when I unzipped my pants and rested my cock against her nose. I felt a little bad about that, because Toby had no idea what I was doing with his dog - or, rather, what his dog was doing with me - and I knew what he'd say if I asked, and it's rude to ask anyway, so after those few weekends I just started saying I couldn't come over to watch his dog. 'Oh, that's a real shame,' he said to me, sounding genuinely disappointed; 'she really likes you'. It took willpower saying no the first time, and just as much every time after - since, I'll admit it: goddamn, did that dog do something fierce to me. There's just something about those plump Y-lips, made further alluring by the taboo of not having permission...

...but I really needed to step out of memories and back into the present, since Kahlo had started nosing and sniffing at the growing stiff bulge in the front of my pants, and it was very possible that Brendan might come back through the door soon due to forgetting something or something. Besides, he didn't seem too interested, and if there's something worse than thinking about going further with your brother's dog than with your first boyfriend, it's actually doing it when the dog doesn't want to.

Well, I say that now, but just wait 'till I get horny. Judgment and willpower tend to kinda fall apart then.

Overcast day today, a lot cooler than how it usually is back home; I envied Kahlo for his thick fur when I let him outside a little later, and especially when I remembered that my brother also said 'he doesn't like going alone, so you'll have to wait out there for him to finish'. As I said before, I hadn't put on a shirt this morning due to the temperature in the house, but outside... I was glad I'd taken it with me. Damn dog maintained eye contact with me while he did his business, too, and when he was done, he padded up to me, wagged, and basically asked for more head-pats. Of course I obliged.

It wasn't until after when I had to take him for a walk that this dog-watching started to feel a bit like watching Toby's dog: Kahlo turned out to be a lot more athletic than I expected, tugging me along at the end of his extendable leash at a brisk jog for most of the walk and an uncomfortably fast walk for the rest. The whole 'walk' took probably fifteen minutes even with that (I remember being able to run a six-minute mile in high school), and I'm glad that the husky knew the way back to the house, because I sure as hell didn't. He was fine afterwards, going over to the couch, lying down, and keeping his mismatched eyes on me while I - God - while I leaned against the wall, struggled with taking my shoes off, panted "Jesus Christ, does the air conditioning here work?... wait, does this place even have air conditioning?...", then went over and flopped onto the couch like... well, like an exhausted dog.

It really was hot. Brendan had adopted my mother's habit of leaving the A/C off almost all the time, and not only could I not find the thermostat, I doubted I'd be able to work it anyway. After managing to regain some of my energy, I yanked my shirt off and lay back down, but that still wasn't enough - I mean, that hardly served to keep me cool right after I'd woken up, so why would it now, when I was sweaty from running? - so I unbuttoned and unzipped my pants and, with some effort, kicked them off over the other arm of the couch.

Panting, sweating, chest rising and falling, eyes closed... it startled me when a cold dognose pressed against the side of my body. "What?" I said, watching his wagging tail and... admittedly, trying to peer around his front legs to see if he wanted anything. Turns out, he did, but not what I thought: when I sat up, he, too, stood up, wagged more, and padded off towards the kitchen, occasionally looking back towards me... and when I was halfway there, he came back out of the kitchen with a bowl clutched in his teeth, flat crimson with 'Frida' across the front in burgundy.

"Who's Frida?" I'd asked Brendan when I first visited, back when Kahlo here was a puppy. "Frida was his sister," he replied, "as well as their namesake - had this marking above her eyes that looked like a single eyebrow, really cute. Littermates, she'd be six months old now too like Kahlo, but... she had... complications. Could never breathe quite right. We tried to get it fixed, but she choked to death seven minutes before the procedure, when we were on the way to the vet. We had that bowl specially made for her when she was three weeks old and got one for her brother, too, but... he never uses it. We always keep both out, side by side, but whenever he's hungry he brings us hers. We even hid it once, and he still found it and brought it to us, when his was sitting right there by the door."

"Okay, okay, calm down..." See, I felt okay with being totally naked in my brother's house right now, because at the moment it was only me and his pets. Cats didn't care one way or another - back when I lived with Mom, one of my cats sometimes sat on my chest while I was 'busy' in my bed - and besides, I hadn't seen Brendan's around since before he'd left. "Where's your food? Show me, Kahlo."

He set the bowl down and looked up at me, wagging.

"Come on, boy. Where's your food?"

He barked.

"Use your words."

Well, whatever. This sort of diplomacy clearly wouldn't get me anywhere, and I think I remembered Brendan saying something about how he keeps it close to the cat food, so... I just had to find that, too. It was fairly easy, though, as he kept the whole bag up on a shelf in the laundry room, next to which sat a big plastic container with marginally larger food chunks. I knew that some dogs just straight-up didn't care if they ate cat or dog food, but...

Kahlo had followed me back into the laundry room, and started up his wagging and barking all over again when he saw me going to get the food dish. "I said calm down..." Little room in here, so after filling it, I went back into the kitchen, set it down on the floor, and sat down cross-legged in front of it. The husky padded over, looked at me, tilted his head.

"Well?" I held a paw out to the dish. "Eat."

With that, he did, stepping forward a little and nosing down into dish. When I say Kahlo's a big dog, I mean it: with me sitting, the top of his front shoulders came about even with the top of my head, and I could tell that I wouldn't be able to wrap my arms around him in a hug if I tried to. It's very likely that he weighed a bit more than me, due to him being probably mostly muscle... the reason why I myself don't get a dog is because I'd always lose when playing tug-of-war, and that's no fun.

...Perhaps I should explain myself. My only experience with a feral came from Toby's dog, and again, I feel bad about doing that without his permission or knowledge. Really, I was a little nervous and hesitant about doing anything with this beast here, since it wasn't clear if Brendan had actually given me permission or himself knew... possible, but unclear. Yeah, I wouldn't do anything unless Kahlo started it, and I'd stop when he stopped... eh. Everything else came from long streaks of searching up pictures and watching videos near the end of high school and after, and talking with friends to learn of their fantasies and experiences...

When in my thoughts, I hadn't noticed that Kahlo had finished eating, and now saw on his hind legs watching my face. Black, grey, and white fur, overcast like the sky today; one eye turquoise like a calm, fresh pond, the other vibrant green like the moss growing nearby. Firm legs, strong back, fluffy neck and tail, very clearly a dog that got his exercise... and, again, very obviously intact, with a full, plump sheath between his back legs, above a just-as-full and just-as-plump sack. Sometimes I wondered what dogs thought about: this one had a little bit of pink flesh protruding from the end of his sheath, yet he just sat there watching my face, wagging idly...

-well, that stopped pretty quickly, because when I started to stand up to put his (or, rather, his sister's) dish away, he suddenly rose to all fours, all wagging again with his tongue hanging out of his mouth, and brought his front legs to rest on my shoulders.

"Hey!-"

Fucking dogs, man, I swear - I got this from Toby's bitch, too: Kahlo started licking at my face, and I tried to - look away, tried to avoid getting his tongue in my mouth, the usual - but all of that extra movement, along with his massive weight on top of me, just ended up causing me to topple over onto my back, with him still unrelenting in his affection. Sure, a part of me somewhere enjoyed it, 'it' either being the dog tongue all over my face or the large muscled dog effectively pinning me in place, but I wasn't about to admit that to just about anyone...

...oh. A part of Kahlo enjoyed it too. When I fell over I'd brought my legs up so my knees stood out in the air, but only as far as the dog's body would allow before rudely kneeing him in the belly - but I guess all he could feel was the presence of warm flesh right there; his licking started to slow down, and instead, he began to hump forward against my leg a little... that little peak of flesh from his sheath broadened out as his humping urged his cock out, and soon I was glad that I'd taken off my clothes, because little jets of pre spurted out over my belly and chest when his knot started to become apparent at the base of his sheath.

I straightened up a little, propped myself up on my elbows, and just... watched. Yeah, I'd seen videos before, but there was just something about being enclosed on all sides by warm fur and muscle with the light scent of dog always in my nose... and, my friend was right: dog pre did have quite a different and persistent scent, discovered when I dragged a finger through one of the slick spots in my chestfur and brought it to my nose. Of course, that wasn't enough. After a little longer, during which Kahlo had the chance to continue rubbing himself against my leg until almost his full length had worked free of his sheath, I shifted down, down, down, bringing my raised knee away and my muzzle closer...

And, then, there was a throbbing dog cock an inch from my face, pulsing upwards with each little burst of pre. I'd had several knotted cocks in, on, and around my muzzle before - several times before; however, none of those belonged to an actual feral dog... already I could tell it was different. Here, the scent was stronger, much more so, and the flesh, veined in red all over, glistened with liquid musk... the smell itself was similar to that familiar 'wet dog' smell, but with a different sort of spice, and much more pleasant. Kahlo didn't mind that I'd moved my leg away: he stood where he was, waiting, throbbing, as if he also knew that what I wanted was similar to what he did. Hell, he probably did.

I was nervous in first closing that distance, so instead of going right down on him, I... leaned forward, traced my nose along the veined and contoured side, closed me eyes... I felt the slick surface against my nose, breathed in the heavy scent, shivered. Little did I know that this one action would cause me to inhale that scent every time I breathed in through my nose for the next five hours, even though I'd wash my face twice between now and then, but... oh well. Warm, soft yet firm like the flesh of a nectarine - I couldn't resist. Soon my tongue took the place of my nose, gentle and prodding at various places along the side of the dog's length, before focusing on one area to lick once, a second time, a third. I brought the moisture of his cock into my mouth, tasted it, shivered again... then went down and dragged my tongue all the way up, from the end of his sheath to the tip of his cock, at the end catching a few drops of his pre against my lips, soon to be licked off.

If he wanted something to thrust into, which he very clearly did, I'd gladly give it to him. I moved forward a little more, wrapped my paw around his sheath, put my lips against his tapered tip in a little kiss - which was perfectly positioned so that I felt each jet of pre against the roof of my mouth and soon flooded me with his scent and taste. He needed a little... encouragement, though, so I moved down on him, keeping his length cupped in my tongue, and started to move his sheath up and down along the upper edge of his knot. I don't know if it was doing anything for him, because he remained still, but - God damn, did it ever turn me on... I had to find a good position to hold on to his sheath with one paw to keep his cock angled towards my mouth while slowly stroking myself with the other, without falling over or losing my balance or something.

When my lips passed about halfway along his cock, I shifted my movement and started to pull back so I could bob up and down on him. My other paw strayed from his sheath to his sack, heavy and full, tensing with each of his throbs... God. I wanted my nose in that, so of course, I again changed my position, dragging my tongue again along his underside and then moving further down his body so I could nuzzle into the soft, hot fur between the bottom of his sheath and the top of his hanging sack. Here the scent was lighter, but still definitely present; I held his orbs against my nose with one paw, and I guess the placement of my head was just right, because here he resumed his humping, with less force than before but still so I could feel the pressure of his knot against the side of my face.

That did it. I wiggled back up his body, planting several more licks and kisses along his red length as I went; when I sat up in front of him, he wagged and licked my face again, but then paused to sniff it - probably smelling himself. God, I'd have to shower... oh well. So I sat there for a moment, legs apart, thinking about what I'd just done and the rich taste in my mouth, paw on my cock... unlike Toby's bitch, Kahlo didn't seem too interested in lending me a dog tongue. That was okay. After a moment longer, I rose to my knees, turned around, lowered myself back down so I was on all fours with my rump facing him -

-and then, as I'd expected and hoped, he hopped up on my back, threw his front legs over my shoulders, and started thrusting against me. Like most dogs I'd seen in the videos, he missed a few times in blindly thrusting, so I moved a paw back between us, directed his length toward my tailhole, and gently pushed back against it, feeling his size, his thickness, the slight differences between this feral's cock and that of any other canid I'd had under my tail... I swallowed while pressing back against him, working him deeper into me - and, thank God, he'd acquiesced to my taking control and stopped humping, if only for the moment... sure, you could say I like it rough, but only after I've gotten accustomed to having a thick cock deep inside me, you know?

I was enjoying myself. I'd been enjoying myself ever since... well, ever since this big husky pushed me, already naked, down to the floor and pretty much held me there. That's the kind of greeting I enjoy. The other arm keeping me up shook underneath the misty pleasure of sinking back onto Kahlo combined with his meaty weight on my shoulders and body; eventually, though, I worked back far enough so that I felt his knot, not yet swollen, press against the underside of my tail, so there I stopped to catch my breath and start working my hips slowly back against him...

...but he was having none of that. As soon as I lifted my paw from him, he pulled himself back and then slammed right back into me like quite the hungry lover, squeezing a light yip out of me and causing me to lurch forward a little. He only relented in his thrusts right then because he lost his footing on the tile, but right after, he began pumping in and out of me, fast and hard, without first giving me a chance to... well, do anything. So, I grunted, I wiggled, I panted and gasped and all that, but if I wasn't so worked up from having him halfway in my throat just a moment ago... I weathered through the first discomfort and soon found myself holding him back, back arched, eyes closed, mouth half-open with my tongue hanging slightly out. Usually doggy-style doesn't really do it for me, but maybe now that it was with an actual dog...

Kahlo pressed the side of his muzzle against my neck and panted openly as he fucked me, maintaining the same speed and energy but still feeling like he was getting more into it, given how his legs and body tensed over me. I could tell that I, too, was leaking pre, not in the same energetic jets as him (God, I wondered how full my rump was already...), especially when I reached back down to resume pawing. Something about - this dog's length, its shape and size, just felt absolutely perfect...

He started thrusting further and further into me, stretching me a little bit more each time with the pressure of his gradually swelling knot, and I - being your average bottom otter slut - pressed back against him, desiring the extra stretch and depth, wanting him to cum in me... but, again, I'd never done anything with an actual dog before, so I really had no idea if he'd cum in one big load, in several spurts like his pre, or what-

Well, maybe I'd save figuring that out for next time: nothing gets you better acquainted with someone's seed than having it shot down your throat. This time, I didn't get to taste it, but only felt the impact of it, consisting of some light growling, some more firm thrusts, a bit of pain - since I'd taken a knot before - and then a sweet warmth and pleasure deep under my tail. It didn't take long for me, too, to reach orgasm, especially since now I had a whole cock and thick knot to clench around... I ended up shooting my own load out over the (thankfully) white tile in a few spurts of my own and then slumping down onto the cool tile, exhausted from the sex and from holding up such a heavy dog for so long.

I knew that ferals remained tied for considerably longer than any other sort of dog, so... I just hoped that Brendan had told the truth when he said that he'd be gone all night. Besides that, this tie would get a bit uncomfortable soon anyway...

Eventually Kahlo's knot did shrink, allowing him to slip out of me, but after doing so, he went back and lapped at his mess underneath my tail, which in turn got me hard all over again... but I was tired, so I shooed him away and went back to watching TV. He exhausted me considerably more than Toby's dog did, so I only ended up having two more orgasms that night instead of three or four like I had with that bitch - and then one more the next morning when he woke me up with a curious tongue, and again when I came downstairs to feed him, just like our first time the night before...

but I should have had my eye on the time. Right after he'd knotted me again, right when I was panting and shivering from another orgasm, the front door opened and caused my heart to jump a thousand feet - fuck, fuck, fuck - I couldn't stand up, I couldn't move, I couldn't push Kahlo off...

so I just stayed there, naked, on all fours, with my brother's dog a good six-and-a-half inches under my tail, while my brother himself shuffled around in the other room with kicking his shoes off. Then:

"Lukas, I'm home, where i- ...whoa."

I couldn't make eye contact. I hadn't been this embarrassed since my mother walked in on my taking my boyfriend for a ride back in junior year of high school. Of course, back then, she only realized what was going on when I timidly said 'uh... can you shut the door, please?...'

"...Uh. Heh." I think he set something down on the counter. "You enjoyed yourself, I take it?"

"Brendan, I am so sorry-"

He walked by behind us, patting Kahlo on the head as he went. "Oh, nah, don't be. Better you than some random bitch on the street, right? Well, I hope you won't be spewing out any puppies..."

My brother leaned against the wall. "How long've you been like this?"

"A couple seconds..."

"Ah."

"Where's-"

"She's getting a coffee and going shopping, so lucky for you two, she'll be gone for a few hours. Oh - yeah... here." Again, I was too tired to move around with this dog on me, so I just had to guess off the noise: there was some rustling of fabric... "Money's on the counter, so you can grab that when... yeah. Thanks for watchin' 'im, Luke."

Brendan walked back by us, towards the stairs in the other room. "Uh... yeah..."