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Addiction

Chapter Ten

Indian Summer

By:

Rufus Quentin

October 11, 1998

As I mentioned, I reserved the last page in my notebook for crosshatches counting the days of the school year like the days of a prison sentence. The number of notches had grown respectably, but the vast expanse of blank page still felt daunting. I began to add a second set of notches on the back cover, a set that represented something infinitely more awful than the survived days at Wayne High School. When class got boring I began to count the number of times I successfully pawed off Dustin. I watched with shock and horror as those notches began to multiply as fast as the school days themselves. If I were to add the days all I did was watch or join him without touching, the lists would look considerably closer. I couldn't call it an accident nor claim a momentary lapse in proper judgment. These lines resembled a habit. I'd look down and stare at the very odd and very secret representation of pencil marks, embarrassed though I alone knew what they meant.

It was not the way I'd ever expected to join the club of the sexually active. I still had my virginity, but if the abstinence only sex "education" presentation they forced upon us during the October of every year was to be trusted, any sort of touching counted as sex, and therefore spoiled me for future husbands. Another thing about being sexually active is that membership gives you X-ray vision of sorts. It gives you the power to peer into the relationships of other couples and see them as you've seen yourself. How many times did my friend Melissa paw off her boyfriend, the buck from the football team? Did she go down on him? When I saw them in the halls, innocently engaged in a public display of affection the mental image of that six-pointer grunting and groaning over my friend while their faces were twisted into grimaces of orgasmic delight became just as vivid as the porn I watched with my brother. "Fuck," I thought out loud, imagining all the established couples at school turn into copulating feral animals, and felt the immediate urge to wash my paws for the umpteenth time that day.

"It's really not that bad," said Bryn, knocking me back into my bedroom from my own little universe of distraction. "But it's not exactly what I expected," Bryn continued, holding the dress I made for her against her body while she stood in front of my bedroom's full length mirror. I could sense her disappointment the moment she looked at it. I knew her well enough to know that even her word choices disguised the extent of her true feelings.

"But it's the fabric you chose," I said, pulling myself together after zoning out. I confess I forgot what we were even talking about.

"I know," she said, "I just don't know how to put it. It just doesn't look like it's made for me."

"Can you at least try it on?" I asked.

"Sure," Bryn said and lay the dress upon my bed, taking another look at it. She began to unbutton her blouse, which made me a bit uncomfortable. I hadn't meant for her to change on the spot. I wanted her to take it home and wear my work for a while. Now my best friend was peeling off her clothes in my bedroom and I was left to awkwardly look at my paws, standing next to the unsatisfactory product I'd tailored. I felt my heartbeat. It seemed like the early days back in the locker room. I gave Bryn every courtesy and let her change without a salacious glance. God, had she caught me, it would have been the end of things, or so I'd convinced myself. She pulled the dress over her head and shoulders, and dexterously managed the zipper on her back. She looked at herself, front and back, and shook her head. "It's just not it," she said.

"What can I do to fix it?"

"I don't know. I'm not sure what's wrong with it. It's a little loose." She pinched her sides and drew back what was definitely an inordinate amount of fabric. "We agreed on the neck, but I feel like I'm lost in here. Definitely feel naked. It's a bit too revealing after all."

"Damn," I said, working up the courage to stand up and feel the poorly applied measurements myself. I'd definitely committed a few dilettante tailoring mistakes, now that I saw my work worn.

"I mean, it's the right length, and I guess I can get used to showing a little more bust, but..."

"I know what you mean," I said, "I think I can fix it for Homecoming."

"Don't worry about," she said, "I found the cutest thing on my last trip to Huntington. Maybe we can work on this a little later, turn it into a dress for the spring or something like that."

"I'm sorry," I said, standing next to Bryn and talking to her via our reflection in the mirror.

"Don't be," Bryn said, "it's good practice. I like what you did for Amanda and Jennifer. You nailed theirs. You definitely have a lot of talent."

"Thanks," I said, "I'm sorry yours didn't turn out so well. I'm not sure where I went wrong. I definitely screwed up here and here."

"It won't be the last. I'm sure my funny body didn't make things easier," Bryn said, getting to work shedding the dress she clearly didn't want to be in. Again, I averted my eyes. I helped her gather her original clothes and handed them to her one article at a time. "It isn't easy to dress a greyhound," she said, standing in front of my mirror in nothing but slip and bra. I got a good look at her this time, from the back and the front at the same time, thanks to the mirror. She looked gorgeous, or at least I thought so. She wanted a compliment. I could think of quite a few that would have fit her well, but instead I stayed awkwardly silent and handed her her jeans.

"So Alex," Bryn said, slowly getting dressed, "can I ask yasomething personal?"

"What?" I said, feeling the light blush that came with being in the same room with a disrobing female greyhound grow several orders of magnitude more obvious.

"Have you been seeing anybody?"

That blush was now at maximum. Bryn's words had a way of narrowing my entire vocabulary, my entire intellect down to a quickly fading point like a powering down television screen. I stammered a second. Denied it outright, then collected the words together, "Why do you ask?"

"You've been acting weird recently. Coulda sworn you had a crush, but figured you'd tell me if you did."

"I don't," I repeated, "between you and me I'm kinda giving up on the dating scene for now. What have I been doing?"

"You seem distracted. You kinda dropped the ball on that project in chem. Had to redo a lot of your end of the work. You're not hanging out with us as much anymore and you seem, well, like, a little bit happier. Like you got that little high that comes from being smitten. That and I don't see so much of you anymore."

"I think I just bit off a little more than I can chew this year. Sorry about chem," I said, sweeping my ears back.

"It's totally alright. I'm happy to cover for you, especially if it means you're getting a social life. I think you've earned it. And if you do start seeing someone, tell me. It'd mean a lot to me if you share those things with me."

"I will, but it probably ain't gonna happen. There may be plenty of fish in the sea, but not that many in the pond that is Wayne High School."

"You never know," said Bryn, "sometimes love has a way of turning up where you don't expect it."

Bryn's words irked me in a way I'd seldom felt before. I tried to convince myself that her questions, her word choices, and her criticism of my work weren't personal. She wasn't the type of person to seek out person's sore underbelly and spear them through viscera and bone. I felt all the frustration I tried to radiate toward her curve and bend back around on me. I took a pair of scissors to Bryn's dress as soon as she left. I took cathartic pleasure in opening the seams, in ripping the thread and in taking the dress apart. I lay it on the floor in all its individual parts, trying to figure out where I went wrong. I inspected its fragments in an organized and methodical approach I wished I could emulate on the facets of my own life. The mistakes I made weren't as bad as the ones I could have made, and that was my sole consolation. It was salvageable, definitely salvageable. I just needed to be more careful next time. And what was this about a crush? Nonsense. Sure, my chem project was careless, but I had French and history exams the same day. It didn't mean I was distracted. Besides, who was I gonna have a crush on?

Dustin stood at my door not long after Bryn left. He was dressed for running, wearing his shorts and a cotton T, ankles wrapped up to his shins. He looked good, shaggy fur protruding out around his neck and the several holes in his clothes he refused to let me fix, much to my frustration. My heart accelerated the moment I saw him. I resisted the urge to walk up and punch him, a gesture I typically reserved for people I thought were cute.

"Your girlfriend is pretty cute," Dustin said, leaning against my doorframe in a relaxed pose.

"Byrn talked to you?" I asked, feeling a little knot form in my tummy.

"Is that her name? The greyhound that was just here."

"That's Bryn."

"She invited me for a burger sometime."

"She didn't."

"She did."

"You gonna go?" I asked, trying hard to downplay my anxieties.

"Well," he said, "by invite, I assume she invited me to treat her to a burger. Where there is a burger, there's gotta be fries. Maybe even onion rings. Let's add a beverage to that. She's a slender one, so maybe it'll just be a diet soda, but it could be a shake. I'd have to buy her a shake if she asked. They usually don't even want a shake, they'll drink it all and then complain how it's ruining their figure. Of course I'd have to get whatever they're having. I can't look like a cheapskate or one up their figure-consciousness by actually abstaining from empty calories. If it's in town, it will probably be E-Z Burger, like I can drive her anywhere else. Two number two combos with add-ons will cost around eight bucks. I make four-fifty an hour. That means I'd have to scrub cosmoline off old yugoslav firearms for the better part of two hours to pay for a lunch she probably doesn't even want. That's just date one. Next time she'll want to go to Huntington and lord knows what I have to pay there."

I just nodded. My brother's misogyny could be quite endearing, given the right audience.

"What's the name of that Lynx of yours?"

"Amanda?"

"I guess so. She's been much more persistent. Keeps accidentally bumping into me and dropping hints about some dance. Like I'll ever be seen at one of those."

"I can try to have a talk with her."

"Naa, I like the attention," Dustin confessed or teased, it was hard to tell.

"Fair enough," I said, looking away and pretending to busy myself by cleaning up my sewing implements.

"Well, maybe if I won the lottery," he said, "gonna start playing that sometime. I'd go out with them all, and half the other girls at school that came flocking. Buy em the finest burgers and diet cokes. I'll have a little harem of your girlfriends."

"I bet you'd love that," I said.

"Shit yea," he replied.

"You know, you're only gonna lose on lottery tickets."

"What about scratch-offs? I'll start small with the dollar ones and move up to the five dollar ones when the money comes rolling in."

That deserved a skeptical look.

"What? I'm being responsible. Thinking about future planning.Tuition's gotta come from somewhere."

"Fucking moron," I said, aware that my brother was just teasing me. When my brother was in his antagonistic moods it felt easiest to take on my role as the over-serious voice of reason.

"Hey!" He said, pretending to be offended.

I swiveled back his direction and crossed my arms. He threw up his paws.

"So," he continued. His voice reset it's tone. I could assume he switched back into his more addressable persona. "How about that jog?"

I sighed. I knew the invitation was coming, if not today, sometime in the near future. I remembered what happened first few times, the nudity, the beyond inappropriate albeit interrupted touching, and the promise that next time, without excuse, interruption, or acting, to get me off. Easier said than done. I'd followed Dustin up the hill a surprising number of times over the past week, practically every afternoon he had off, each willing and hopeful that this would be the time. Despite all we tried, we'd come down disappointed, or at least I did. The only one getting off was Dustin. My paw would carry the faint scent of sperm, tufts matted in a way only that substance could. My consolation was a renewed promise that next time would be the time. Well, I heard that promise a lot.

I looked at the clock, then out the window, gauging weather and sunlight left in search of some sort of an excuse. The temptation was there, immediately rocketing back to the first and foremost rung of thoughts. Going jogging was already a codeword for masturbation, but now I knew I was committing to an honest orgasm, or at least in theory. My hopes were fading. It started to get a little frustrating that I couldn't get an orgasm. Then again, my sex-ed consisted of a lecture from a gym teacher who herself hadn't been touched since the bicentennial, playboys, and whatever the girls at school were talking about. I was convinced that an orgasm was some mind blowing thing I just had to have, I just didn't know enough about my body to make it work. Dustin lacked the experience as well and his clumsy fingering, while hot, just couldn't do it. Since the close call we expected to be discovered any day, but I wanted to feel it at least once and he wanted to be the one who helped.

Was I ready for that? What if it was disappointing. What if things got out of hand? An auto-pilot switch went on somewhere inside my head. I stood up and began to change into my running outfit in front of my brother, of all people. There was no use in shewing him out, not with what had happened, not with what we had planned. He watched me strip down to my underwear and slip on my running clothes. I wrapped my ankles in the same strips of fabric he wore and stood dressed for my brother's inspection. Both of us seemed visibly antsy and certainly not in anticipation of a little bit of cardio.

Soon I was chasing his tail down the stairs, out the door, and over the white-graveled driveway. The rest followed our routine. I struggled to keep up with Dustin up and down the hills. I made it to our fort, panting. Dustin already had our spot prepared. We started looking at porn, the usual kindling to our deviance. Dustin scooted closer, rattling his belt loose. He kicked shorts and underwear down his ankles, not at all shy about showing sheath and a little bit of erection. His shirt followed and he was completely, shamelessly naked. I followed his lead and peeled my shirt off my back. I even lost my bra under Dustin's persistence, but my shorts and boxers stayed on. I still felt too timid, too self-concious of my body and afraid, even as I watched Dustin's paw slip beneath the elastic of my underwear and released the first gasp from my muzzle the moment he found my erogenous zone. Despite, or perhaps to spite my timidity, I reached out and got my brother hard and knotted, until it became clear he wasn't interested in getting off just yet. My turn was first and I realized I needed all my concentration to make things work.

I stared and watched as Dustin's paw shifted in my boxers. Like tides my brother's effort brought an ebb and flow, ushering me closer than ever to the now mythical total submersion into the mysteries of my own body. My gasps, my shudders, and my optimism rose as Dustin ushered me to the crest of a new and potent sensation, but like all the times before the waves receded without taking me with them. After every rush the familiar recession of nerve signals followed, leaving the tingling emptiness in my tummy, a frustrating combination of horniness and disappointment, and the awareness of exactly who's paw stirred around my genitals and how inconceivably wrong it was to permit it for even a second.

"Anything?" Dustin asked after I stopped counting the cycles, two of his fingers wiggling just inside my pussy while his thumb gently drew circles around the hood of my clit.

"Yea," I huffed, peering over my breasts at the sight of his paw disappearing into my boxers. "A little," I added, growing a bit more truthful as my frustration grew. The most recent peaks hadn't resembled the first few in intensity. I started to accept that today might not be the day. I knew Dustin tried his hardest, and he did manage create a few little sparks, but as soon as I instructed him to chase after the source, the feeling vanished like a fish breaking line just as you're about to net it. Then all I felt was his fingers doing their thing, and the vulnerability that went along with having someone's finger inside me. There were only enough surges of bliss to keep it interesting, but none of those seemed to fit the description of an orgasm. I lost track of time, he had been at it so long, usually I gave up at the half-hour mark or whenever I started to get sore.

Just as Dustin found another source and a tingle rose a little bit more, he removed his paw and shook it, massaging his wrist with his other paw. "Sorry," he said, "my arm's starting to get tired."

"Damnit," I said, "almost had something there."

"Sorry, maybe if we got you naked I could get into a better angle."

I looked down at myself with some timidity, my pants hung open and my boxers stretched around my thighs. They were already hiked down a little, but I wasn't sure if I should show him more. "I don't know."

"Come on, you've already showed it to me. What am I gonnado?"

"This is different."

"Really? I've already given you like a dozen paw jobs and you're still shy about it? You've got an awesome body and a beautiful pussy. Come on, drop 'em. Let's see what we can do."

I just sighed and rolled my eyes. It seemed against better judgment but I unceremoniously tugged my pants and boxers down my thigh and over my knees, pulling them off my ankle with a toe-claw. I let the air greet my bare under-half. It felt cool between my legs especially upon the heat of my pussy. Only then did I realize just how wet I was, my sex and the fur around it was soaked through with arousal. My scent seemed embarrassingly strong to me, now that I had nothing to contain it. I almost begged my brother to let me slip at least my boxers back on, but he already shifted between my legs, kicking my scent saturated underwear out of reach.

"Was that so bad?" Dustin asked, kneeling between my legs. His eyes glanced over my body, taking in my nudity in an unhurried moment. A quick and comforting look beamed toward my face, and a longer more inquisitive stare fell upon my bare pussy.

I averted my muzzle, feeling the weight of his gaze. I didn't have to follow his pupils to know where he glanced. My ears and cheeks felt extra warm. I thanked the heavens for the fur that hid my blush. I didn't shut my legs. I didn't recoil. I didn't do the thousands of things I could have to prevent my brother from seeing me as he shouldn't. If I didn't want him to see me the way I was, I would not have taken those photographs. I'd never have taken off my clothes. I'd never have returned to that spot, the spot I knew I couldn't fight the fatal little escalations that brought us thus far. To me, touched more intimately than ever before, fighting strong emotions I shouldn't have, and with legs parted in acquiescence.

Before I realized it, his nose bumped beneath my chin, nudging me ever so slightly. I turned toward him. He leaned over me, close, far too close. I smiled faintly, an honest smile, feeling a bit nervous how close he dared. Another nudge brushed my whiskers. I could almost feel his lips touch my muzzle fur.

"Hey, what was that?" I asked, with a wavering quality apparent in my voice.

"Just playing with ya." He said, his paw moving just above my knee, a few placating strokes pet the soft, long fur of my inner thighs, each a little higher than the least.

"You're getting a bit too close. I thought this was just about getting off," I said, lifting my muzzle. His warm breath oddly sent a shiver through me. His paw slowly made progress back to the soaked fur around my sex, to the heat radiating from my swollen labia.

"You're nervous. You feel all tense. You'll never get off this way." Dustin continued, his finger brushing my exposed flesh the way he had earlier.

"I'm getting there," I said in partial honesty, feeling another little spark race through me, making me all the more on edge.

"Maybe, could be dark by the time it happens at this rate." His paw covered my sliver and began to rub lengthwise, stroking my warmth and wetness with unhurried passes. His fingertip dipped just far into my folds to caress certain hidden details.

"Sorry I'm so slow," I said in an inhaled breath, my voice faltering with a shudder as my brother rediscovered my passage and parted my folds with the return of his two fingers.

"It's not your fault. I read that it's sort of an emotional thing for girls. Maybe you need a little more than this," he said, wiggling his fingers within me.

I gasped and glanced downward to the sight of my brother's paw knuckle deep inside me. His fresh scar was the same pink as my intimate skin. "I don't want things to get weird," I said as Dustin felt depths even I only recently dared to touch.

"Alex, this is already weird. I just want this to be a little less clinical and a little more enjoyable. If anything I want to make it feel a little more normal."

"What do you have in mind? I still want to keep up some boundaries."

"I just wanted to do a little of this," he said, inching a little closer. His fingers slowly moved about, feeling the inside of my vagina and an embarrassing quantity of my wetness.

I thought he was going to move in and kiss me. I turned my muzzle away on instinct, but only felt his nose upon my neck. He nuzzled me, placing only the slightest peck of a kiss on my fur. The warmth of his breath followed seconds later sweeping into my mane down to the skin. I inhaled sharply, unaware of a little erogenous zone hiding under my ruff.

"Is this so bad?" He spoke into my tufts, so very intimately close.

I chuckled softly, for he brushed one of my sensitive spots. My muzzle tilted higher. "Not so bad," I confessed via a very quick breath.

Dustin placed a few more kisses on my neck, following the tufts of fur downward. I began to breathe faster and I could feel my heart start to race. Maybe he was right, I thought, maybe a little more contact was what I needed. Still my belly felt taught with anxiousness. What were Dustin's intentions, I wondered. I trusted him. He wouldn't hurt me, I was sure of that, but where was this going? Was I afraid? No. There was no danger in this. My word was law. I knew I just had to whisper and he would stop. Perhaps it was exhilaration, like on a roller coaster, experiencing the thrill of controlled risk. As his trail of kisses rounded my shoulder and progressed across my bare chest, I could feel it working.

My hips rose involuntarily, arching against my brother's paw, almost begging him to access a little deeper. Dustin obliged, thrusting his fingers as deep as he could thereby reaching truly untouched terrain. A gasp left my muzzle. A bolt of pleasure of previously unknown intensity coursed through me. I thought for a second I had reached an orgasm, but the ache remained as soon as it dissipated. I could feel some weird nameless pressure build inside but I didn't have the experience to know what to do with it. Only after a few weeks of trying, of hooking the very same sensation over and over did I deduce it may have something to do with that elusive end goal.

I stared down, beneath my muzzle, watching my brother kiss toward my breasts as his fingers slipped through me, curling through my wetness as if to invite a climax. My mouth opened to beg him to stop as his kisses began to ascend one of my mounds, but the fear of losing the growing source of pleasure trumped the importance of those boundaries. Just another shudder left my lips. My fingers sunk into the blanket, striving for something to hold onto, something that wasn't my brother.

"Is this still okay?" Dustin spoke into my bosom, before allowing his tongue leap out and follow the curve of my breast in a daring lick. I found myself inhaling sharply upon sensing the bold move. Another wave of tense pleasure arrested my body as the edge of his tongue brushed my nipple.

"Yea," I huffed, feeling no alternative.

Another lap caressed my breast, this time directed at that nipple. Others followed, curling around the now firm pink point, subjecting it to the textures and warmth of Dustin's tongue. The feeling inside me grew as his fingers continued to twist and slide knuckle deep through me. I could feel his paw-pads rub the walls of my vagina, touching my intimate parts and leaving me with no secrets left to spare. Then I felt it. I strange little tingle and a growing point of pressure, as If I had to pee. I considered asking Dustin for a quick break, but given the circumstances I didn't want to break the mood. Instead I just fidgeted and squirmed. With the pressure building, it dawned on me that it may not have been just a full bladder we were dealing with.

My brother began to suckle on me, hungrily taking my breast into his mouth and drawing in, his tongue swirling over exposed nipple and fur. His eyes closed, but his ears perked toward me, as if awaiting protest or sounds of approval. This was definitely too far, I thought as I watched him nurse upon me, but "too far" had lost it's meaning the first time I stripped for him or the first time I offered to let him touch my sex. He succeeded in extolling a stifled gasp from me, as if the full body shiver and the wiggle against his fingers were not obvious enough signs of approval.

I realized my paws were clenched into fists, sore from gripping the blanket with immense tension. I let go and flexed out the ache and looked at it, unsure of what to do with it. I then brought it to the back of Dustin's head and held him upon my breast, petting between his ears and down his scalp. The movement of his fingers slowed. Just his thumb circled my clit, keeping me squirming and very much on the edge. He resumed his descent a few moments later, leaving my nipple wet and the fur of my breast matted in saliva. I kept my paw behind his ears, holding him close as he dotted my belly with even more kisses.

"Do you want me to?" he asked, speaking into my navel. What he referred to needed no decoding. The answer got stuck in my throat. My muzzle opened, ready to speak, yet no words came out. He nuzzled my belly as I paused, as if yearning to proceed with a desire far greater than I possessed, even in my highly predisposed state.

After the polaroids and the mutual pawing I kind of figured it would come to this. It would be a lie to say I hadn't contemplated it, even found myself fantasizing about it, but I knew I couldn't let it happen, morality aside. After breaking the explicit no-touching rule a couple of times, I expected it would be a matter of time before we stood at the threshold of breaking the next implicit law. Sure enough, there we were. I had my chance. I was going to let it happen.

"Go ahead," I whispered, not believing the words coming out of my mouth. 'It's more for him than it is for me,' I told the rational side of my brain as I watched Dustin descend those few inches through my pubic fur, feeling the warmth of his breathing wash over my belly and the soaked pelt around my sex. I drew in a hissing breath as his fingers slipped out of my folds, leaving me aching and hollow and soaked.

His trail of affection ended with my pubic tufts where he nuzzled and sniffed with his nose pressed firm against my belly. From there he pulled back, getting an unobstructed view of his sister's pussy from just a few inches away. He spread my pliant labia to expose my most intimate details, my pinks and blushing shades, my pee-slit, and the puffy folds leading to my interior, all of which embarrassingly wet. An eager gaze eyed my slickness. His nose flared as if to identify my scents. He looked up my body, into my face, and nodded as if requiring another layer of permission to proceed. I could see the anticipation in him, the kind of look that could make me cave, even if I hadn't been on the edge. I quickly nodded back down at him. Without any further hesitation my brother leaned closer and let his tongue trace down my labia, curling over fur and skin on the first of countless licks.

I yelped a sigh of elation, one loud enough to hear beyond our little area, feeling Dustin's warm tongue brush upon me, carrying away my flavor-laden moisture. At first my brother didn't keep a rhythmic pace or ordered technique, preferring instead a seemingly random, and for me torturous, agenda of exploration. He pursued a scent, chased a texture, or perhaps satisfied an inquisitive inclination until he familiarized himself with my labia in the most up close and personal way possible. From there his technique changed as he seemed to grow more curious of my nuances, and of the little intricacies of pleasing a female.

My breathing quickened as Dustin began to focus on my vagina. His tongue circled my puffy opening, teasing my wet folds in ever smaller ellipses until he finally dipped in, parting slick walls as he dared to taste the source of my pheromones. My body tensed yet again, this time unable to stifle a buck in his direction. Every one of his laps caused me to squirm. I could feel my heartbeat up all the way up into my throat. That enticing pressure resumed its growth, making me fear I was going to wet my brother's muzzle any second. I considered tapping him on the shoulder to run off for a quick break behind a tree. It would ruin the moment, but so would pissing on him. I decided to hold onto the feeling, and see where it went and what it meant. I just had to make sure I didn't leak.

I closed my eyes and lifted my muzzle, breathing rapidly through open lips. I reached out for Dustin's scalp. My fingers ran through his head-fur and mane. His ears swatted my paw. He moaned against me, under my touch, vibrating into me in a way I couldn't help but enjoy. Rapid breaths passed from his nose and bathed my vulva in warmth. For a moment I tried to imagine that someone else was there to make it feel less taboo, but all the fantasies, the repertoire of sexy celebrities and former crushes all ended up taking the form of my brother until there was no difference between when I shut my eyes and opened them.

I lay there reclined, legs splayed, looking down at my brother with his nose pushed deep in my pubic tufts. I remember thinking, 'What's wrong with this picture? This can't be happening?' as I watched Dustin's familiar face between my thighs, tilted slightly, making out with my genitals with enough eagerness to betray an attained fantasy. The surreal image of the nose, the muzzle, and the fur-patterns I've recognized for as long as could remember soaked in my moisture, eagerly and shamelessly buried in my pussy, irrevocably worked its way into memory. Of course I entertained the idea of stopping. Who wouldn't, under the circumstances? The phrase "but it feels too good to quit" certainly applied, even though I knew I couldn't justify continuing on those grounds. Curiosity kept me going or so I believed, giving me the courage to entertain my brother from one moment to the next. I wanted to feel what happened after each little escalation, and as a result I was closer than ever before.

Then I felt it as his tongue slithered within and his nose pushed against my erect clit. He reached a certain place inside me, lapping over a weird little itch the likes of which I never felt before. My hips rose and my legs spread further in reaction, as if my body were involuntarily offering that little corner of myself to Dustin. I found myself praying that he wouldn't move on, that he knew I needed that little itch licked for just a moment longer, even though I wasn't sure why or if it even had anything to do with getting off. Luckily my brother sensed he did something right and kept licking at that exact same spot. I held my breath as I anxiously counted the laps, with my buttocks flexed, my pelvis held high, and my tail stiff as a board. Four, five, six and seven struck the itch, but instead of alleviating it, it just got worse and spread. As it grew so did my need for Dustin to reach it. The itch turned into a tingle and I almost considered pulling away in fear, but a bigger part of me needed to see where this was going.

The both of us froze. I held my breath. My ears perked to the little slurps between my thighs and the sound of Dustin exhaling through my pubic fur. Then it happened. My brother's coarse tongue brushed that spot with a few more exceptionally broad and direct licks. The pressure, the ache, the itch suddenly popped and gave way to an immense and indescribable sensation. The breath I held suddenly left me in the form of a yelping gasp. I buckled forward, my toes curled, and my body arrested in an orgasmic wave of tension. "Don't," I gasped, venting the only part of an imperative I could enunciate. My hips pushed up, bucking against my brother, needing to feel his nose against my clit. A strange flutter swept through my belly as something inside me twitched, as muscles I never felt before flexed in rapid succession. My pussy, passage, and pearl throbbed, quivering against my brother's muzzle and around his still swishing tongue.

Dustin didn't seem to mind that I held him against me, cradling his head between my legs and keeping his nose firmly against my wet skin and fur. He just uttered a moan muffled into my pussy as the rhythmic ripples of pleasure passed through me. The feeling abated too soon. The tension left me as if it had never been there. I returned to where I began only completely and utterly loose, this time holding my brother upon my naked sex, his tongue still slithering within my intimate passage, straining as if waiting for my sign to stop. I let him go when I became too sensitive to bear another lick and had to tap him behind the ear to get a moment of relief. He only reluctantly withdrew.

"Holy fuck, that was hot. I could feel ya twitching," he said and beamed a smile up at me. His muzzle was completely soaked in my essences. Matted fur surrounded his nose and lips. His whiskers drooped laden with drops of my moisture.

I didn't have a response as I flopped back on the blanket and gazed upward, breathing away the last tethers of climax. My heart raced. The skin beneath my darker patches of fur felt warm and tingly. As soon as I lay there, I felt as if I couldn't lift a paw, even if I wanted to. Every part of me felt like Jello.

Strangely I still didn't feel satisfied, it felt good, but not like any of the descriptions in the magazines. It wasn't what the other girls claimed they had experienced whenever they bragged of their lays. I didn't see stars, I didn't lose consciousness, and thankfully I didn't wet myself. It happened, I know it did, but I didn't really feel different now that it had. This felt somehow unfinished, or was I getting selfish, turning into an addict coming down from their first hit? Then again, I put attaining my first orgasm on such a high pedestal, I should have known I was setting myself up for some type of disappointment. Or was the reality of what we had really done smacking me awake?

After the last shiver left me Dustin slowly crawled up my body, skipping the points of interest I would have predicted him to attend to along the way. He hovered on all fours above me with his wet muzzle just a few inches away from mine. His chest rose and sank in quick breaths, a smile beaming at me from above. His scent carried my most intimate variety. I read my brother's eyes and familiar facial features. Though I returned a smile, one far more timid and bashful than his, don't think I lay there without listening to the clamor of conflicting thoughts. None of this was right. I shouldn't have wanted this. Where was that biological hard-wiring that should have prevented everything that just happened? It seemed to have failed the both of us, with no sign of kicking in any time soon.

Dustin wanted his turn. That was apparent and he deserved it. He was in the perfect position to go further. I had no way of knowing if he wanted me to reciprocate, what form it would take, and how far the thoughts running through his head were taking his fantasies. The only fear that validated itself was the fear of being kissed. Dustin closed the few inches between our muzzles and pressed his lips to mine. Thus began our first kiss, warm, gentle, and surprisingly intimate for it's taboo qualities. What exactly it meant was unknowable, but it meant something. All I could be certain about was that this wasn't just about getting off anymore.

Dustin's cock hung between us, knotted and as stiff as possible, begging for some kind of attention. Both my paws took hold of his length, deciding for him how I would reciprocate, lest he ask for something I didn't want to deny him. My fingers wrapped around knot and shaft, finding him steel-hard and slick with a good amount of pre. He emitted a deep and primal moan as I tugged a bit more of that slickness from his tip and rubbed it around his ridges and down his length, as if he were warning me that I had awoken something inside him I shouldn't. Undeterred I spread that male substance across his bare veiny red-pink skin, my pad-pads caressing his every canine detail, and certainly not leaving out his knot and balls from my attention.

I found myself vigorously stroking my brother's maleness, tugging him with both paws in my direction. His body stiffened in the first of several bucks, a sign I was doing something right. My hold kept him from getting too eager or rutting too wildly, and made me in charge of his release the same way mine depended on him. I shamelessly stroked Dustin's pre-slick length, twisting on the pleasure points I knew from experience to be effective. I wasn't sure if it were possible for him to grow any bigger or get any firmer, but it certainly felt like it as he bucked through my paws.

I could feel his warm breath sweep across my face, exhaled from his nostrils in tellingly short intervals. Still he refused to break the kiss, too eager to keep his tongue chasing mine between our muzzles. In those moments my paws raced along his length, squeezing just where he liked it, and tugging the pre from his tip. A final moan vibrated into my muzzle. I could feel his hold on me intensify, his paws holding me with strength I've never seen him show. His back arched and his hips pressed forward. His body froze, presenting me with his every inch and an unspoken plea to give him those last needed touches. My paw tugged down upon my brother's knot and the other squeezed behind it at the root of his canine form.

Dustin began to throb in my grasp with the now very familiar twitches of climax. Jets of cum shot forth seconds later, splashing upon my naked belly in thick white lines. He bucked into my clenched paws, his tail jerking in the air behind him as he unleashed every drop of seed he could. I could sense every part of my brother's strong body flex in electric tension and shivered with him as his warm semen landed on me, totally impressed by the dynamic force so very close. I held him near with his throbbing cock and he clung to me at the pinnacle of eagerness. His hold on me became immutable and it gave me nearly as much pleasure as he experienced in his moment.

My brother's body relaxed as his climax diminished and all that came out was the last trickle of rough collie semen. Only then did he break the kiss. Dustin began panting. His gaze sought mine. At first I looked down my body, at the lines of thick white fluid streaking down the fur of my torso and at the last ooze dripping upon my pubic fur. The scent of Dustin's sperm reached my nostrils, nearly overpowering the scent of my own arousal. Our eyes met for a long moment as we both caught our breaths. A masculine chuckle brought out a softer giggle from me. I couldn't help but smile and feel the rush of a blush. When his breathing returned to normal our muzzles slowly moved to close the short distance between us. Another lone kiss, one not as heated, but just as passionate took place as our bodies cooled. My sticky paws left Dustin's softening cock and slid through the fur on his flanks and back. I didn't avoid getting cum into his fur, payback for all the stuff he got on mine.

As the excitement ebbed away, it started to feel a little weird to lay there naked, making out with my own brother and wearing a full load of his cum. I tried not to let the kiss show the awkwardness, because at the same time I didn't want it to end. We just finished the most serious play I've ever had in my life, and I enjoyed it. Somehow all the little things we'd done together opened up a door and showed me a need, a part of myself I'd ignored and let atrophy. Now that I was reminded of it, it seethed in me and shouted, and burst its little tendrils into every fiber of my being. Perhaps worst of all, the feeling I knew to be most dangerous, was the realization that despite the wrongness and the illicitness of what we had done, I still felt safe and secure around him.

Dustin's kisses became shallower after a while, degrading into superficial pecks and licks. Understandable, given all he put his muzzle through. He flopped on his back beside me after a while. Our gazes followed each other, remaining fixed even as we lay on the blanket. He offered me his paw and I took it, squeezing as our fingers interlocked. He looked at me in a way I wished he wouldn't, with a gaze bearing more than just the vestiges of sibling love. I'm glad I didn't have a mirror to see myself in. My cheeks felt warm with a blush I hoped he couldn't see and an expression that broadcast just how incapable I was of being intimate without forming a bond.