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Becky’s first time came when she was twenty years old and a drifter rolled through town. All her friends had theirs already. Sometimes they made fun of her for being a virgin. Mostly it was playful ribbing, but it still made her feel like she was missing out, somewhere in the back of her mind. She wasn’t religious, but she was shy. She'd always had the feeling that the right person would just happen to come along, but he never did – until that day.

She had no idea that her man would be a half-coyote drifter that her father had picked up hitchhiking, giving him a place to stay for the weekend in exchange for fixing up his old truck. The stranger was rough and dirty, and he smelled like a feral animal, but he was also helpful, and kind, and … and real handsome.

The way he smiled up the side of his lean muzzle and the way he looked at her with his wild golden eyes, it made her feel funny inside. The whole time they were eating dinner, she was staring at him and thinking that she’d like to get to know him better. Just the two of them. And as soon as they all were done, she offered to show him where he could sleep upstairs. So her dad kicked back in his favorite chair in the living room and said goodnight. She took the coyote’s warm, leathery paw, and led him upstairs.

“Well,” She chuckled, “Here’s the guest room.”

“Alright,” Brand nodded, lingering in the hallway.

It could have been over just like that if she hadn’t leaned back on the doorframe of her own bedroom, and said something else: “And this one’s mine, if you want to come take a look around.”

Brand was a young dog, still a few months from his own twentieth birthday, but he’d been roaming the desert with a backpack and a pair of hardworking paws for over a year. The hungry lifestyle and constant exercise had honed him into a hard-muscled, lean and broad-chested figure that stretched at the shoulders of his dirty white T-shirt. It still held a stain of deep black motor oil from the work he’d finished just a few hours ago.

Everything about him was nothing like what she’d been told a lover should be. He was nothing like the soft, clean, human boys that her girlfriends had clinging to their elbows all the time. But everything about him made her heart race.

When she invited him into her bedroom, Becky didn’t actually expect that he’d stay. She was just following some crazy instinct.

But he said “sure” with a grin and a shrug, and came in behind her as she slipped inside and closed the door.

He darted from one spot to another, sniffed at the jar of potpourri on her dresser, occupied himself enjoying the view from out the window. With his back turned to her, she realized she had a split second to find the courage to do something she’d never done before. It made her throat feel tight and her belly feel hollow and jittery, but she pushed past the hesitation and slid her hands underneath her shirt.

“I’m just gonna get more comfortable, if you don’t mind.” She said, sliding out of it completely.

She grabbed her hair back and crossed her arms over the bare skin of her belly. Goosebumps broke out all across her. She’d never had the guts to do something so forward. Her bra felt thin and barely-there. She sank onto the edge of the bed, sitting sidesaddle and looking at the coyote’s back. His fluffy tail that hung down from above the waistline of his jeans was swishing from side to side in a gentle wag.

“I don’t mind at all, miss.” He turned, took a glance and let his tongue slip out to curl around his muzzle and back inside with a wet slop.

Stepping forward, he brought a hand under her chin and rubbed it with a warm thumbpad, gently tugging her face upwards until she was standing to meet him.

“Are you comfortable now?” A sideways grin crept up his muzzle, and he huffed out a chuckle.

She smelled a well-seasoned steak, their dinner from earlier, on his canine breath. She inched closer, putting a hand on his shoulder, slid her fingers up to weave into the thicker fur on his cheek, and pulled him against her. His whiskers twitched. Her soft lips pressed against his.

Brand made a ragged noise in his chest, something like a growl, as he placed a paw on her back and pulled her plump, soft breasts against him, letting his tongue slip out to taste her lips. He engulfed her face in a wild kiss, teeth scraping against her soft cheeks, long flat tongue invading her mouth as she parted her lips and stiffened and blushed hot under his firm embrace.

He pushed his tongue against hers and sucked a little, and she did the same. She went deeper and tried to feel the angles of his big, chunky fangs, how hard and sharp they were. Then he dipped his head down and stuck his icy nose in that tender spot of her neck in the middle of her collarbone, lathed kisses along her jawline, gave tickling licks under her soft, fat earlobe. She shivered and tried not to squirm too much. When he reached her face again she prodded her tongue at his lips and slipped inside again, tasting the jagged line of his fangs and the spicy, meaty gravy of his thick drool. He pawed at her back and wagged his tail softly between them, tickling her legs.

He took a step back and pushed a paw against his muzzle to wipe a string of drool away from his teeth, then dug under the hem of his shirt and pulled it up off himself. Becky's heart thumped fast in her chest.

Brand had the typical coyote build, rangey but not too thin. He was healthy and full with muscle. His chest was two firm slabs over a lean flat belly, where his golden fur faded to a thin layer, creamy white and velvet-soft. A dark trail of thicker fur led down the center, dipping below his beltline.

She slid her arms around him and pulled him close again, tasting his tongue again, kissing deeper and harder and longer. Her hands ran in desperate paths up and down his back, squeezing him tight. He was doing the same, with his claws carefully trailing along her bare skin in ways that made her shiver and feel weak at the knees – and his paws wandered both to the strap of her bra and the waist of her jeans.

Becky didn't have to be told in so many words. She helped him out, reaching one hand behind her to unlatch her bra. Then she let his insistent paws work at the rest as she pulled out of the kiss and just breathed against his neck.

“Mmm.” She moaned against the warm valley in the center of his chest, where a soft ruff of fur shivered under her breaths. He smelled like a dirty dog, salty sweat turned musky in the long summer nights of unwashed fur, nights he'd spent drinking six-packs by a smoky campfire on the edge of the desert, days he'd spent walking bare-chested in the fiery heat, and nights he'd spent sweet-talking young ladies until they'd kissed his tongue and blushed red-hot and agreed to a passionate night with him. And then there was the metallic smell of diesel from somewhere on his shoulder, the oily residue that had soaked through his shirt. The smell of muscle and heat and a horny young beast, the smell of a varmint and a scoundrel, the smell of a man. He was thick with it, and it made her wetter than a glass of lemonade.

She pushed away from his hard chest, reaching to her other strap and pulling it down to let her plump boobs spill out together, her wide nipples pressed together like two rosy blushes. She grinned and giggled: “do ya like ‘em?”

He only nodded as he bowed his head to sniff up between the soft breasts, flicking his tongue out to give warm licks. He pushed the tip of his snout into the sensitive flesh of a nipple, making her shiver with lust. His lips were warm and his whiskers soft, and when his tongue snuck out, and it was so smooth and wet. He dragged a long kiss across her breast, breathing out a ragged whine. She felt his paw beckoning at her waist.

Slipping out of the embrace, the coyote knelt down and pressed his cheek against her bellybutton, licking gently at the soft, cream-white skin of her waist as he undid the button of her jeans, pulling down with a strong paw. She helped him by stepping out of them, then lost her balance when he shoved his snout against her crotch.

She gave a squeal of laughter as she fell back onto the bed, and he was back between her legs as soon as she'd pushed herself up into a comfortable position, her feet sticking out over the edges of the mattress. As the coyote licked and slurped, he pushed his tongue inside her. A shiver ran through her. She looked down at him over her heaving chest, seeing beads of sweat on the flushed red skin of her collar.

“Oh, God.” She said. He was holding her with a very strong paw and a strong set of fingers with firm, leathery pads and his _claws! Oh my god! _

He was inside her. She was trying not to moan too loud, trying not to squirm too hard because his long, hot tongue was lapping at the walls of her pussy so deeply, it was pushing with rough kisses the most sensitive flesh inside her and it felt so good it was almost too much, she felt like she had to scream or claw or bite down – but on what?

A dirty-tasting paw found her lips, pushed past and wedged itself between them. Rebecca moaned into the firm muscle of the coyote's palm, until he wiggled it around to slip a few fingers inside and press down on her tongue, his claw making a sharp point on her tastebuds, as she suckled and whined like a puppy.

“God, you're wet.” He chuckled smugly, lifting his muzzle to wipe a paw across his chin. Threads of his drool and her juices dripped back down onto her glistening crotch..

“Mm, come here,” she grinned, leaning forward to put her arms around the coyote's neck and pull him onto her.

He climbed up onto her white naked body all smooth and soft, her pillowy breasts cushioning against his hard, lean chest and the wet valley between her legs meeting the stiff crotch of his jeans with a warm embrace. His maw opened to meet hers in another bestial kiss, sharp teeth and muscular tongue invading her throat, the taste of her own wet pussy on his breath. It was salty, fishy, mingled with the savory meatiness of the coyote's own dog-breath.

She slid a hand down his waist, slipping her fingers through the warm fur to feel the firm and wiry muscle as he ground himself against her, helplessly dry-humping his bulge into her tender nakedness. She pushed her hand between them, blindly fumbling at his belt. He felt it, the tickling of her fingers at his crotch, and breathed out a chuckle as he kept on kissing her, licking her nose, sucking on the fat softness of her bottom lip. He held himself up with one arm and helped her out with the other, tugging his belt off, undoing the button and the zipper.

It fell against her belly with a wet plop, thick and heavy and warm. He was all the way out of his sheath, an obscenely naked, lipstick-red cock glistening with slick juice, pumping with every heartbeat, straining hard and dripping salty pre from the tip.

“Oh my god,” she giggled. She lifted a leg halfway, brushing the inside of her thigh against the warm, wet sausage. He quivered a bit and gave a ragged groan of pleasure. She bit down on her lip. The thick, masculine stench of his cock was making her mouth water.

“Oh, can I … ?” She figured the question was obvious.

“You can do whatever you want, honey,” he drawled. Sliding his tongue against her neck for more slurping kisses, he slowly rose to a crouch as she scooted beneath him to get closer.

She had never taken a man's cock into her mouth before. It tasted so much better than she'd thought. She'd thought it would be nasty, dirty and sour, but she would do it because it would make him happy, and because men expected foreplay, and because it was probably easier than getting right into the hard part. But hot fucking damn didn't it just smell so good? She stopped thinking for a second and let her body do the work. Her pussy quivered and a drop of juice slipped down its lips to tingle between her legs. She leaned forward, and put her lips against the dog's hot, wet meat.

His tip tasted a lot like the sirloin steak on his breath, salty and spicy and dripping with savory juice that ran down her chin and dropped onto her chest, thick drops of gravy-like musky cock-drool that made her nipples glisten. She moaned into the sausage, gripping his hard thigh for dear life through the short coat of fur, and reaching down to slide a finger back across her pussy below. Her whole body shivered with ecstasy, telling her this was right, this was good, she was getting warmer …

“Oh fuck, honey …” He groaned, gently pushing her head away.

She let the sausage go with a pop, and then licked her lips.

“If ya keep on like that I'm gonna spill a litter in yer mouth.” He chuckled, offering her a lopsided grin and running his hand over the back of his head, flattening his ears down shyly. “Ya want to keep foolin’ around a little while longer, dont'cha?”

She moaned in vague agreement, rubbing her cheek against the hot, slippery meat. She wanted to keep tasting him, but he was right – there was so much more she wanted, and she didn't want it to end so soon.

The thought crossed Becky's mind that only girl dogs went into heat, not humans, but here she was with a slick wetness dripping between her legs, flushed and hot, and the jitters in her chest were getting so bad she felt like she had to clench onto the coyote’s legs for dear life as she inhaled his thick, masculine odor. It was a wild and crazy feeling, something desperate, something fierce. Something more than lust, at least more than the lust she'd felt for the boy next door last summer, more than the arousal she'd felt for any human boys ever before.

Boys were rough and dirty and some of them had nice cocks, but they were still just naked skin and tame smells, civilized, clean and shaved. They were hesitant, afraid, and they always cared about everything being perfect, nervous during sex like nothing else, like they were afraid of anything that could possibly go wrong.

This coyote only cared if she wanted him – and past that, he was only interested in fucking and having a good time. He was raw and wild, he knew what he was worth, he knew how big his wet, red cock was, he knew how dirty he smelled and how much that got her horny. He knew where this was going to end up, and he knew that she wanted it as badly as he did.

He gently pushed her face away from his crotch, getting down to crawl on top of her again and press his muzzle to her lips. His body was lean and strong and warm, his sleek fur damp down the center of his chest, his hot firm cock sliding up to sandwich between his quivering pussy lips. His breath was still bestial, dirty and spicy, tinged with the wet fishy taste of her own arousal where his tongue had explored.

“You're a naughty girl,” he growled against her ear, in between panting breaths. “You want it so bad.”

She shivered, arching her back as she relaxed into their next long kiss. His legs scrambled to elevate his hips, keeping his cock just barely brushing against the top of her pussy. His tip slid around her fuck-button, pulsing and dripping pre.

He planted his muzzle against her cheek again, whispering with tickly whiskers and hot breath, “So what's it gonna be? You want me inside you?”

“Oh my god yes.” She barely spoke the words, just let them slip out in a trembling whisper.

Neither of them felt they could last much longer, but figured the other one wanted to. So Brand drew back slowly, sliding the length of his cock across her pussy and then crawling off with a string of hot kisses planted down her chest, a makeout session with each nipple, and a slurping path down her lithe, smooth belly until he finished with a single short, teasing kiss against her throbbing pussy. She squealed and drew her legs together, afraid she'd squirt too early. She kneaded her breasts in both hands, playing with them anxiously while she still felt his hot breath and tickly whiskers on her ass.

His warm hands settled on her knees, and she let him spread her legs open again. He pressed the tip of his sausage against her, reached a paw down to guide it and pushed inside. She made a noise that she would have been embarrassed about at any other moment. It felt too thick to fit, swollen and hot as a branding iron. Her chest felt tight, and she started to pant like a dog along with him, whining as he slowly shoved his manhood deeper into her belly.

He sank lower until he was lying on top of her as he hilted his whole length inside her, down to his bulbous knot at the base. That part was definitely too thick to fit, but it felt good against her trembling, soaking wet lips, and it made her squirm the way it rubbed against the throbbing itch of her clit.

He pushed her hair back from her eyes with one gentle paw so he could lick her forehead, holding himself up with the other arm to avoid crushing her. His chest was hard with muscle, his sleek belly firm when he tensed up to drive another deep thrust into her belly. He was unbelievably hot, like a furnace, his lean body covered in sweat-slicked fur, his dirty breath puffing in her face. His back paws made a pile of the sheets at the bottom of the bed, his claws scrabbling at the thin fabric as he struggled to keep thrusting again and again, deeper every time until his knot squeezed at her entrance.

He was starting to slow, to hesitate. She threw a leg over his waist to pull him deeper. He was so hot and she wanted all that warmth against her and inside her, filling her belly with his hard rod and pushing all her buttons until she couldn't hold on any longer and neither could he – with a grunt, he thrust hard and buried himself inside her. She yelled as his knot shoved inside, feeling as big as a tennis ball, like it shouldn't fit, but somehow it did and it filled her like nothing else she'd ever imagined.

Hot jets spurted into her belly. He collapsed flat against her, whining and growling with his head sprawled flat on her neck, muzzle against her ear. He let himself cry and struggle, yowling, digging his claws into the sheets beneath her, shivering as he emptied shot after shot of his load that never seemed to end.

Becky settled for clawing his back, digging her fingers in and scratching until she was sure she drew blood and felt sorry for him but also just didn't care, this was ecstasy, this was complete and overwhelming and she almost wanted it to end because it just felt like too much, like it would destroy her to feel so full and so hot and so worshiped. She bit gently into the muscle of his shoulder, wincing at the dry taste of fur and the salty grime of his sweat, but kept on biting in between pants and gasps, just to give the pressure some kind of release.

His tail was wagging slowly as they both settled down. He propped himself up on an elbow again to raise his chest off her, and bent down to drag his tongue across her lips.

“You think anyone heard?” She whispered, suddenly feeling the flush in her cheeks again and realizing they were naked in her bedroom, and the red light of sunset at the window was almost all gone into the dark of night. Her dad was just downstairs. Maybe he was asleep -- maybe he wasn't.

“Hope not.” Brand nibbled on her ear, pulling her sideways so they could cuddle. “‘Cuz I knotted you. Sorry. Kinda your fault though for pulling that leg trick.”

She giggled. He was right, he was still buried in her pussy with a thick knot blocking him from pulling out, and every time she shifted her hips, he shivered a little and emptied another hot spurt into her belly.

“I just wanted you really bad. Anyway, how long does it last?” She murmured, not really caring about the answer. She threaded her fingers through the thick fur on the back of his head and scratched behind his ear, kissing his soft, furry cheek as buried his head in the crook of her neck, moaning in pleasure.

“Longer if ya keep that up, ya hot mess”

“Alright, alright. You horndog.”

“Tch.”

He kissed her again, plunging his long tongue into her mouth and hugging her tightly. It was another half hour before he pulled himself out, dripping white, and they got cleaned up in the shower together.

They slept in her bed together that night. He asked her if she was sure and she said she didn't give a damn what her daddy thought. So he settled back and she laid her head on his chest and drooled against his freshly-shampooed fur. He smelled less like an animal now and more like the cool grass after a rainstorm, but he was still soft and warm. She never slept better in her life.

He was up and yanking his clothes on at sunrise. She tried to get him back into bed, just to snuggle, but he wagged his tail and smiled with a bit of pain showing through his eyes, and bent down to hug and kiss her.

She never did see him again. She always hoped he was doing well, but he had been on his own journey and she realized that their paths had really only crossed for a few hours. Eventually she found another man that she chose to spend the rest of her life with, and it was good, probably better than anything the coyote would have had to offer. But still, she looked out the window on long drives sometimes, hoping to see a hitchhiker, maybe even a handsome coyote boy like the one who had showed her everything she'd been missing, all those years ago.