FSE

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Lawrence hummed as he absentmindedly stirred the pot of soup. Minuscule droplets of water vapor collected on his muzzle whiskers. They twitched, flicking water on the granite countertop. The house was silent, save for the labrador’s humming and softly bubbling water. Everyone else had either gone to bed, or was out partying. Neither of those suited Lawrence. It was way too early to crash. And as for parties, he had nothing against them, but he didn’t know of any going on tonight. Besides college parties, but he wouldn’t be caught dead at one of those after dropping out last year. It would just be too weird. And of course, the bars were still off limits for another couple years. So… soup and a movie.

A pop and crackle of fireworks broke the stillness outside, making Lawrence jump. The flaring lights lit the dark kitchen up police lights. Thank god his family only bothered with fireworks on the Fourth of July. The harsh strobing lights and ear piercing noises didn’t much appeal to him.

“You just gonna cook all night?”

The voice made Lawrence jump again, this time dropping the metal spoon into the soup. The lab cursed as he fished it out with a pair of tongs.

Behind Lawrence, leaned over the island countertop, was a towering wolf. Jack had snuck up on Lawrence like a wild panther in the forest. Jack’s dark grey fur blended into the shadowy house behind him. His habit of sneaking up on people was obnoxious at best, and yet also one of the least annoying things about him.

Jack was dressed for the male gaze. A mesh tank top wrapped around his torso, the barbell piercings on his nipples poking out the holes in the fabric. He’d paired it with tight black booty shorts that worked overtime to lift his muscular ass an extra inch. Tucked into the back pockets were two handkerchiefs; one pink- or maybe magenta, and the other a pale dandelion yellow. The meanings of the colors escaped Lawrence, but it was obvious they were representative of something. Whether the combination meant one single thing, or two separate things was anyone’s guess. Jack plucked a can of beer from the fridge and cracked it open with a single practiced claw.

“Really, what’s up with making soup in the dark by yourself? On New Year’s Eve?”

The labrador shrugged. “What’s wrong with soup?”

“Soup’s great. I’m just wondering if this is some sort of cry for help.”

Lawrence turned around, setting the utensils down on the counter and crossing his arms. It was highly unusual for his cousin to be this interested in his mental health. “Why are you here? I thought you were out partying? Do you need something?”

“Well, since you asked,” said Jack. “My ride to the club flaked on me.”

“And you need me to drive you,” Lawrence finished the thought.

“Bingo,” Jack snapped his fingers. “If you do, I bet I can sneak you into the club.”

Lawrence tilted his head. He searched Jack’s face to see if the wolf was telling the truth. The wolf looked serious enough. “How are you gonna do that? I’m only nineteen. I haven’t even been in a club before.”

“Are you serious? All the more reason to go! Besides, they don’t card. Not unless you’re trying to buy booze, and even then, it’s fifty fifty.”

Lawrence sighed. “I don’t know man, it seems too risky.”

“Too risky,” repeated Jack, testing the words in his mouth like it was the first time he’d heard of such a ridiculous concept. “So, you’re gonna stay in all night, by yourself, eating Campbell’s. Exciting stuff.”

“Well, what are you doing? Getting so drunk you end up in an Olive Garden dumpster and I’ll have to come pick you up at the police station tomorrow morning? Oh wait, that was last year.”

Jack shook his head fervently. “It’s quotas, asshole. I’m telling you, they wouldn’t have gotten me for it if it happened at the beginning of the month.”

“It was January first.”

“Whatever. I’m keeping it classy this year. I’m dancing all night, and getting some tail,” the wolf said with pride, puffing his chest out. He displayed his big canines in a toothy grin.

“Jesus Christ,” muttered Lawrence.

“And you’re welcome to join me, but this is the final offer. Otherwise, I’m gonna get an overpriced Uber.”

Lawrence weighed his options. Jack was right. Staying home by himself would be dull. Or he could go out and have the time of his life. Maybe Jack would help him get some tail too. “Fine. Alright. But if things go south in any way, I’m leaving without you. I’m not ending up in a dumpster.”

“Deal,” Jack slammed a fist on the table like a gavel.

After a half hour drive, and another half hour waiting in line, the dogs made it inside. The club was just as dizzying and electric as Jack had described on the drive over. Blaring neon lights and flashing disco balls threatened to blind Lawrence. The air itself was thick with music, sweat, and scent, heated by warm bodies that didn’t seem to mind the density. At a half hour to midnight, the party was nearly at its crescendo.

There was one thing Jack had neglected to mention. This wasn’t a regular club. It was a gay club. And a fairly seedy one at that. Twinky boys with paper thin waists flaunted their bare asses. Beefy daddies strut around in muir caps and leather harnesses. Muscular men let admirers kiss their biceps and chiseled abs. A plethora of species and bodies, all scantily clad, or wearing nothing at all. Lawrence suddenly felt overdressed in his plain tank top and basketball shorts.

Jack let himself be swallowed by the crowd moments after they stepped through the door. So much for a wingman. That’s alright, Lawrence wasn’t intimidated by crowds. He swallowed and ventured forward.

The labrador squeezed through sweaty bodies until he was closer to the wall. He backed up and stood on his toes to observe the floor. Jack had been right. This was already much better than staying at home. There was eye candy in every direction. To his right, a massive Clydesdale walked up to a well-groomed poodle and handed him a tall glass of dark liquid. Several feet away from them, a leather-clad rottweiler grinded his massive ass on a tiny chihuahua. On the other side of the room, an oiled up gator had his tongue halfway down the throat of an eagerly swallowing deer. Dozens of similar scenes played out beside them all. People watching wasn’t so bad. Lawrence tried to eavesdrop on surrounding conversations, but the music drowned them out.

“First time?” rumbled a voice into the labrador’s ear. It was gravelly, cutting through the jumble of music. A wide set mastiff stood by Lawrence’s side. He had a deeply wrinkled face, wrinkled further by crow’s feet and laugh lines. Salt and pepper fur sprinkled across his face. If his voice hadn’t made it obvious that he was a smoker, the sharp smell of cigar smoke on his breath was a dead giveaway. He was clad only in an off-white jockstrap that held a bulging sheath.

“Oh uh, yeah,” Lawrence said. He smiled back politely.

“I figured. It’s always obvious,” the mastiff chuckled. He offered a hand and leaned in again. “Doug.”

“Lawrence,” the labrador replied, taking the older dog’s hand.

“Lawrence. What’s got you hiding away back here? Scared to play with the big boys?”

“I’m still getting my bearings,” said Lawrence, shouting slightly to be heard over the din.

“Nothing wrong with that. Might help to have someone out there with ya,” said Doug. He motioned to the floor. “C’mon. A pretty boy like you should be dancing when the ball drops.”

Before Lawrence could speak another word, the mastiff had an arm wrapped around his waist, steering him through the shuffle of bodies. They stopped once they made it to the center of the dance floor. Doug kept his hand on Lawrence’s back, rubbing slow circles with his thumb. Surely the older dog treated all the boys like this, and there was nothing special about it. But still, there was a subtle intimacy in the touch that made Lawrence feel like the center of Doug’s world at that very moment.

The mastiff guided Lawrence into an easy rhythm that was more grind than dance. It didn’t take long for the distance between their lips to close as well. The mastiff’s tobacco and rum flavored tongue wormed itself into Lawrence’s mouth. Lawrence briefly wondered if he could get addicted to the trace nicotine molecules on it, given enough kisses. They swirled their tongues against each other’s for a little bit.

“Twenty minutes!” a voice announced over the loudspeakers. Lawrence looked up to the stage to see a lion with multicolored braids and rainbow body paint talking into the mic. The two dogs broke apart and looked at each other.

“Quick learner,” Doug murmured in approval. His jowls guarded his mouth, barely lifting when he spoke. His hot breath made Lawrence’s whiskers twitch. Doug slid his hands down the younger dog’s waist to mischievously tug at the shorts until they slipped slow enough for Lawrence’s ass to pop out. “Better be quick if we want to finish when the ball drops.”

“What? Here?” A rush of adrenaline ran through Lawrence.

“We wouldn’t be the only ones. Look around,” said Doug. Lawrence’s attention shifted to the people around them. He’d been so engaged in the makeout session that he hadn’t noticed. Doug was right. Couples, trios, and even more were licking, groping, and fucking to their hearts content, their bodies tangling and slipping against one another in the busy mess of people. The fervid dancing had quickly devolved into a raw, bestial orgy, the men taking their rhythm cues from the beat of the music. “Well, what do you say?”

Lawrence responded by turning around and shimmying his shorts around his knees, leaving his ass bare. He eased his legs apart to allow the mastiff to position his bulge between the lab’s cheeks. The jockstrap was rough on the sensitive skin of the lab’s ass. Doug slowly ran his fingers along Lawrence’s thighs, making each of them shiver despite the warmth. When he reached Lawrence’s butt cheeks, he gave them a gentle squeeze and parted them.

The mastiff pulled his jockstrap to the side, not bothering to take it off completely. His already stiff tip parted Lawrence’s cheeks further until it greeted a sweaty ring. He wasted no time hocking a thick glob of spit on the hole and sliding effortlessly inside. Both males exhaled in pleasure. The red hot cock throbbed inside Lawrence as it entered further, then pulled back, sucking his ring along with it.

The older dog began pumping in and out, sinking deep into the spit-lubed hole with lewd squelches and plaps. Lawrence pushed his ass back, trying to move in sync as Doug sped up. A constant stream of precum drooled into his stomach, helping lube their intercourse.

“Ten minutes!” the loudspeakers boomed.

As the mastiff pounded into Lawrence’s slick passage with a rapid pace, their sounds of passion blended into the orgy around them. Doug’s claws held Lawrence in place, keeping him from bouncing away every time the battering ram of a knot failed to enter the younger male. Lawrence wasn’t prepared for the knot. Not yet. But the mastiff was working his hole out, trying to warp it around his entire length.

“Five minutes!”

The older canine held Lawrence tight, growling lowly, knowing they didn’t have much time left if the aim was to tie by midnight. Lawrence panted, his tongue drooling out a thin trail just like Doug’s cock was doing inside of him. By the way the mastiff’s knot split him apart just a little further with each thrust, their goal was becoming more achievable by the second.

The loudspeakers continued to count the minutes. The seconds. The crowd, or least whoever didn’t have a dick in their mouth, joined in for the last ten seconds. Lawrence was too focused on that knot to add his voice.

“TEN!”

Finally, with brutality, the mastiff slammed his hips into the labrador’s. Lawrence yelped and reached out to a nearby tiger for balance. The tiger was dealing with a knot of his own, and held onto Lawrence too. That gigantic, apple sized mastiff knot fully sunk into Lawrence’s guts, forcing his abused ring wide open to accept it.

“NINE!”

The mastiff slid in all the way to the sheath in one smooth motion, fully locking with his mate. He growled into Lawrence’s ear.

“EIGHT!”

The mastiff’s heavy balls were squished between Lawrence’s cheeks. They rested heavy against his taint, moving up and down as the mastiff continued grinding into the younger dog’s welcoming tunnel. Those massive orbs drew up closer into their sac as they prepared to unleash a flood.

“SEVEN!”

The swollen bulb of flesh wedged itself against Lawrence’s sensitive prostate, shooting a rush of pleasure through his groin. It massaged his gland with every slight movement, almost making him lose his balance. Lawrence’s fingers clenched and gripped the tiger in front, who didn’t seem to mind at all.

“SIX!”

The labrador and mastiff’s scene was far from unique. Across the room, the Clydesdale from earlier was bulging the belly of a now damp and unkempt poodle with his cock. On the other side of the room, the rottweiler had his massive ass planted on the pocket-sized chihuahua’s face, and he was spurting cum all over the other male’s belly. Around them all were dozens of men engaging in lewd and very public displays of raw sex and lust. And Lawrence felt like he was at the center of it all.

“FIVE!”

And up on stage… Wait a minute. How and when did Jack manage to get up there? As the DJ led the countdown, he was bent over his sound equipment, his braided hair in the wolf’s fist as Jack spanked and pounded the lion’s ass. Jack was too busy with his own conquest to notice the labrador staring at him.

“FOUR!”

A hot, wet, filling warmth jetting into his rectum brought Lawrence’s focus back to the mastiff. The older dog’s pulsating cock erupted deep into the lab. Mastiff seed coated his depths, filling him up so much that Lawrence worried about where it would all go when Doug pulled out. The warmth felt good though. It felt different than the heat of the room. This was deeper. And much stickier.

“THREE!”

Lawrence’s body moved of it’s own accord, clenching down on the knot so every drop would stay inside. It just kept pouring inside him. If Lawrence came this much when he was the mastiff’s age, he would be a very happy dog indeed.

“TWO!”

Up on stage, Jack climaxed inside the DJ. From their combined roar and howl, their orgasms were just as intense as the mastiff’s had been. As intense as Lawrence’s would be. Their bodies moved in unison, more than likely knotted together.

“ONE!”

The slimy dog shaft buried eight, maybe nine inches deep in his ass, the pheromones of sweaty men all fucking each other, and oh god, the heat. Inside and out. Everything seemed to be designed specifically to push Lawrence over the edge.

“ZERO!”

Ropes of labrador semen splattered on the floor like a water pistol being emptied. Lawrence joined the crowd’s howl, hearing other perfectly timed climaxes occurring in unison. He came and came as the mastiff and tiger held him. Bursts of confetti sprinkled from the ceiling. The DJ was quick to grab the mic and inform the partygoers that it was edible. It stuck to every damp surface, clinging to fur and puddles on the ground.

A wet plop, and it was just as bad as the lab had worried. A slimy river of jism rushed out of his ruined asshole, running down his inner thighs, his legs, and onto the floor. But he didn’t care. He was exuberant.

The mastiff settled his chin on the younger dog’s shoulder. He licked the lab’s salty neck, running his fingers along Lawrence’s sides.

It was then that Lawrence caught Jack’s eyes. The wolf had a gleeful, almost maniacal grin plastered across his face. He was still balls deep in the DJ, who dropped the mic and let his music autoplay. Jack gave Lawrence a thumbs up. Lawrence returned it.

“Happy New Year, Lawrence,” said Doug as he reinserted his cock into Lawrence’s stretched out hole and began gently thrusting once more.