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Grounded For the Night

(www.furaffinity.net/user/bur)

(fabulousmoose.sofurry.com)

© FabulousMoose

A rough paw patted Marc's shoulder and he opened his eyes. Music was blasting from his headphones and the heavy beat was effectively drowning out the noisy airport. He thumbed across the phone laying in his lap and paused the song. Marc slid the now silent headphones down around his neck and allowed the noise of the busy terminal back in. Everyone was shuffling about, and most of the travelers that had been seated at the gate were gone or grabbing their bags. Humans and otherwise were scattering and leaving the area with frowns. There was muted grumbling and even some low growling from the non-human bipeds. Baring teeth or growling in public was frowned upon, but in emotional locations like airports, hospitals, or police stations is was mostly just ignored as a product of the environment. If humans had the capacity to growl menacingly, they would probably do it too.

Marc looked to his right at a seat that was empty before he had settled in and closed his eyes. A large, gruff looking canid sat next to him. His fur was brindle with a mix of dark brown and even some black. He wore a thick off-white work shirt that clung to his large frame, suspenders, and slacks. Typically, avoiding white was common for those with darker colored fur to keep it from showing through, but the quality of the fabric seemed to hide his fur pattern well. There was a dark green ivy cap on his head that had been modified for canine ears, and the fur on his face was long, but well maintained, with a slight hint of gray. Marc rrealized it looked like the canine equivalent of a well-maintained beard. The canid pointed up to the screens above them and grabbed a small duffel bag.

"Flight's been canceled, son. They just announced it." A large paw lifted up and thumbed over his shoulder, away from the gate. "We're getting herded over to customer service so they can figure out what to do with us.", the old dog said.

With that, he stood up and walked away.

Marc turned back to look the departures screen that hung above them. Finding a specific flight took him a moment, since it was hiding in the midst of hundreds of others.

--- FLIGHT 682 --- DESTINATION: CARTHAGE --- STATUS: DELAYED ---

As he watched the screen, the image changed.

--- FLIGHT 682 --- DESTINATION: CARTHAGE --- STATUS: CANCELLED ---

"Ugh." He slunk down in his seat and groaned. "Of course it is."

Cursing bad luck and airlines in general, he slung his carry-on luggage up around his shoulder and followed the crowd of increasingly grumpy faces. There was a huge line in front of the customer service desk for Sunshine Airlines. The signage surrounding the desk had a large smiling sun with lots of bright colors and the tune to Alanis Morrissette's "Ironic" suddenly came to mind.

Marc shuffled up to the end of the line while checking his pockets, making sure he didn't leave anything at his seat. Wallet, keys, phone, ticket. Everything was there in it's proper pla….

Suddenly his face smooshed up against someone's back, halting his forward momentum. There was a slight low-pitched yelp from the individual he collided with. Marc's brain processed the fact that he had walked into someone, and he heard a slightly strained voice in front of him.

"Back off my tail, boy," came a gruff voice.

He looked down and realized the canid's tail was pressed against him and slightly crooked. He reached down to hold it gently and stepped back promptly before dropping the tail and feeling mortified. He'd just reached out automatically, but tails were a no-go zone for humans. Full-stop. You don't touch someone's tail, especially someone you don't know.

He looked up preparing an apology and was met with a frown from the same canid that had alerted him that the flight was canceled.

"Don't touch my tail." He said. "And please watch where you're going."

Marc stammered out a quick apology. "I'm so sorry. I wasn't paying attention. Didn't mean to run into you or do… that," he stumbled.

The canid looked him over once more then simply turned away. Marc breathed out a sigh of relief and tucked his hands into his pockets to avoid any further embarrassment.

The line moved slowly from there, with only one or two more travelers shuffling up behind him. He'd been slow to react to the announcement and as such was essentially at the end of the line. After about 45 minutes of boredom, he finally reached the desk. A middle-aged woman smiled at him while her feline counterpart one computer over helped the older canid he had bumped into. The woman apologized to him with a smile.

"Were you on flight 682 to Carthage, sir? I'm so sorry for the inconvenience. There appears to have been a mechanical issue discovered upon arrival from it's previous destination and the plane wasn't cleared to fly tonight. They aren't able to bring in a replacement this evening." She offered a thin, corporate apology as he handed her his ticket and ID. The overly cheerful woman set about trying to find an alternative flight with the information he provided. He looked over at the old canid next to him and caught a glimpse of the conversation.

"Mr. Samuels, I'm so sorry that we couldn't get you on a connecting flight for the evening, but we've set you up with a complimentary hotel room, and you're in luck! Looks like it's the last room we have available for the night." The lioness smiled sweetly, trying her best to keep her spirits high after dealing with a long line of unhappy passengers.

Mr. Samuels sighed, obviously not happy with the result, but he finished giving her his details for the reservation and then grabbed luggage at his feet before stepping away from the desk. Marc turned his attention back to his own situation.

The employee behind the desk spoke up. "Sir, unfortunately, there's no other connecting flight to your final destination this evening. But, don't worry! It looks like we've got one complimentary room left! You just narrowly snuck in the window. That's fortunate because some of the hotels in this area can be a bit pricey. That's what you get around the city airport, sadly." She delivered the hollow platitudes with a smile on her face.

Marc finalized the details with her and couldn't help but think about the two conversations. He found it odd they had said pretty much exactly the same thing to both him and the grumpy canid. The airline must use multiple hotels for stranded travelers, he mused.

While he was lost in thought, the airline employee offered a few more generic apologies before finalizing the reservation and handing him back his belongings as well as some printed documentation. Once the details were set, he picked up his bags, offered a weak smile to the cheery desk staff, and made his way to the taxi stop.

As Marc got into the cab, his tired mind wandered to other thoughts, and he put his headphones back on for the short ride.

---

Marc stepped out of the cab and made his way into the fancy hotel lobby. There was gentle music playing over the speakers with several giant TVs showing the local news; subtitles ran furiously along the bottom of the screens. Untarnished over-sized furniture was scattered throughout the lobby, but no one was using it.

He ignored the TV's and made his way to the desk where he saw the same canid from the airport, already in the midst of checking in. Marc started to worry about his reservation in that moment and hurried up to the next open space, placing his documentation on the counter and getting the attention of another one of the front desk staff.

"Uh, hi there. My name is Marcus, I've got a reservation here for the night placed by Sunshine Airlines. This is the information."

He slid the paperwork forward and waited patiently while the clerk started typing in information. The young man behind the counter asked for his ID and after some more clacking on his keyboard, handed back the ID along with a single card for the room. Marc caught a glimpse of the canid as he stepped back and started walking in the direction of the elevators.

Marc addressed the clerk. "Don't you need my credit card information for a deposit or something?" he asked.

"Oh no sir," the man answered, "we have Mr. Samuel's card on file. You two will be in room 402."

Marc caught Mr. Samuels stop out of the corner of his eye. The dog's ears were floppy, so there was no obvious swivel, but they perked up immediately. He turned and made his way back to the desk with a furrowed brow. Marc stared at his card, unsure what to say.

Mr. Samuels spoke first: "I think there's been a mistake." He gestured toward Marc then back to himself. "We don't know each other, we aren't in the same room."

The clerk's eye's went wide and he dove back down to his computer, furiously typing on the keyboard. "Sir… the reservation states you two are in the same room. I'm not sure how… Well if you're not… There must have been an error with the reservation system, sir."

Marc spoke up now, trying to ease the man's fluster. "It's fine. Just put me in a different room. No worries."

The clerk replied quickly. "Actually, sir, we don't have any more availability right now. We're booked. Everything is fully booked."

Mr. Samuels spoke next. "Well this is an error of either the airline or the hotel. What can you do to get this man a room for the night. He's stranded here due to an flight cancellation."

Marc silently nodded his thanks to the canid and turned back to the front desk.

"Unfortunately, we simply don't have an extra room at this time. You could try looking around online to see if there is any availability in the area.." the clerk replied weakly. "Or you could give the airline a call, but I know once Sunshine books up its extra rooms, you're typically on your own."

Marc sighed, frustrated. "What are your rooms per night? Are the other hotels in the area similarly priced?"

The man behind the desk responded promptly. "Currently, our rooms are about $380 per night and the surrounding area is always within $20 or so of that amount. Potential guests typically have to go about 20-30 minutes away for cheaper pricing." The man grimaced, fully aware of the cost.

"Shit." said Marc. "That's so fucking expensive. Practically the cost of my flight." he grumbled. "Might as well go sleep in the terminal."

He tossed the card back over the desk toward the clerk and stood at the counter, unsure what to do. Should he try and find another place? Just sleep at the airport? The damn airline screwed up and now he was going to get the shit-end of the stick. He could always try and find a sleazy motel in the area as well to save some money.

Mr. Samuels sighed then cleared his throat. "Just get your stuff son, you can stay in the room if you like. It's only a night." The canid reached over the counter and grabbed the extra key card from the clerk. "Here. No use spending all that extra cash or sleeping somewhere sketchy."

Adam took the key card and stared at it for a moment. "Uh, are you sure? I don't know what to say."

Mr. Samuels turned around and started heading for the elevator again. "C'mon. Before I change my mind." He strode away from the desk. "Just keep away from my tail!"

Marc followed quickly. The two men turned the corner to the elevators together.

The clerk watched them go, muttering under his breath, "His tail?".

He called out a moment later, but it was too late. The two had already rounded the corner and entered the elevators.

"Wait! Sir! that room only has a…"

---

Marc stepped into the entryway behind Mr. Samuels and let the heavy door swing shut behind him with a click. Both man and canid stopped short when they saw the room. It was large and pristine, with a big flat screen TV, heavy curtains over the windows, a small refrigerator (with a list of items inside to purchase, of course), and a luxury recliner in the corner.

The problem lay in the middle of the room: a single queen-sized bed.

The canid was the first to move, dropping his duffel on the bed and undoing the top few buttons of his shirt, allowing his fur to breath.

Marc stepped up next, his bag still in hand.

"Mr., uh, Mr. Samuels, right? Look, thank you for your kindness, but this room was obviously not meant for two strangers. I'll just go figure something out elsewhere and you can have the place to yourself." he said.

"Just call me Wyatt, yeah?" the dog replied. "Might as well use my first name if we're sharing a bed." he added.

Marc didn't acknowledge the joke. "Look, I really do appreciate it, but…"

Wyatt cut him off. "You ever heard 'Don't look a gift horse in the mouth?', son?"

"Well, yes." he replied. "And …I think that's a bit offensive to the equines, isn't it? Anyway, I'm not ungrateful, but you don't know me, and I don't know you."

Wyatt spun around and reached out a paw to shake Marc's hand before he could respond in kind.

"Well I'm Wyatt Samuels. Mastiff, if you're blind, and I'm stuck in this damned city for the night, just like you. I got two pups that share my last name, probably a bit younger than you, and I work for the police precinct in Carthage."

Marc's hand hung limply in the mastiff's paw. "You're a cop?"

"Criminal investigator", he replied. "Your turn."

"Um. I'm Marcus King… look, I really think I should go."

Wyatt released his hand and threw his paws up, as if in defeat.

"Alright, I ain't gonna fight you that hard for it, kid. It ain't no fur off my tail if you go or stay. If you wanna spend $400 on a place elsewhere or drive outta town, go for it." With that, he turned around and started rummaging through his bag.

Marc looked at the canid and thought about trying to find another place. Wyatt seemed nice enough, even after he had run into him like an idiot earlier. He stood frozen for a minute or two until finally making up his mind and dropping his bag on the floor.

"Let me try again. I'm Marcus King. I'm studying to be a PA; I've been working with Dr. Steiner in Carthage." He paused before continuing. "Wyatt, I'm also gay, so if that's gonna be a problem, I'll leave." Marc dropped that second line and waited for a response.

Wyatt's ears perked up slightly, but he didn't turn around. The canid muttered a faint "ah ha" and pulled a small charging cable out of his bag.

He turned back around. "Well met, Marc." he said. "And I figured. You got a little rainbow pin on your bag and an equality sticker on the back of your phone. Not exactly a home run in regards to an investigation, but it's a start." He patted the bed. "You can put your stuff up here for now, son. I'm not gonna fuck with it."

Marc relaxed and picked his bag up by the strap, dropping it onto what he presumed was his side of the bed. Wyatt continued rummaging through his bag and pulled out a t-shirt, a pair of gym shorts and a jock strap. A large one.

The mastiff pulled the straps of his suspenders down and continued unbuttoning his shirt, talking as he undressed.

"Was that really what you thought the issue was?" the mastiff said. "I don't care whose tail you pull, long as its consensual." He let that hang there for a moment and Marc began wondering if it was a turn of phrase or if the dog was saying something more. Wyatt reached for the button of his pants but stopped a moment later, looking at Marc. "Am I making you uncomfortable? I can change in the bathroom if you prefer."

Marc waved a hand in the air. "Don't worry about me. It's your room." He added a moment later, "Dr. Steiner has biped patients, too, so it's nothing I'm not used to. Not a big deal."

Wyatt nodded. "Good." He shucked off his pants and gave himself a good shake, loosening the fur that had been confined to his clothes a moment before. Marc rolled his eyes.

"You're rolling eyes at me like you're my pup and I told a winner of a dad joke, Marc," the canid said.

Marc laughed at the comment. "Well you're standing there in your birthday suit like an old man in a locker room. I just found it funny you're playing to the stereotype."

Wyatt chucked his shirt at the younger man on the other side of the bed and smiled. Marc caught the garment before it hit him in the face and set it gently on mattress covers. "At least now you're loosening up a bit, huh? And by the way, when you're my age you take every opportunity you can. Clothes are stifling, but you don't have all this fur to worry about. Those damn pants make yer crotch itch something fierce."

"It's that or the fleas." Marc quipped.

Wyatt feigned offense. "Hey now, I only had fleas once when I was a pup. I keep my fur clean like anyone with an ounce of self-respect." He scratched at fur on his lower belly twice for good measure, jostling his sheath inadvertently. "No fleas on this Adonis," he joked.

Marc knew canids came in many different sizes. He'd even had a corgi friend in college who was smaller than the average-sized human, but Wyatt was… over-sized to say the least. Seeing the dog undressed now made him wonder how he'd fit everything into his clothes earlier, and he wasn't just thinking about his torso and limbs.

With the flea comment apparently laid to rest, Wyatt picked up the jockstrap and slid it on, his entire extra-large package settling into the front facing pouch. He made a quick adjustment of the straps and fabric, following with the loose shorts and t-shirt. Marc realized the underwear likely made more sense due to the tail. The front provided support, but the back was open and the waist-strap could just sit over the base of the dog's large tail. The shorts had been altered to allow the tail through comfortably, while still providing modesty.

"I'm gonna go get a workout in downstairs real quick." he said. He gripped his belly, which was average sized for an older male and gave it a little shake. "Gotta keep this professional figure without slipping into the dad-bod physique."

"If you think you're still toeing the line between Adonis and Dad-bod, I think I have some bad news for you.." Marc laughed.

"Laugh all you want!" He wagged a finger at the man. "This shit sneaks up on you when you ain't paying attention." With that, he grabbed the key and headed out the door with a wave.

Marc laid back on the bed, thinking about the mastiff. He'd warmed up quickly to the dog, and while he still felt like he was imposing, it could be worse. Wyatt seemed pretty relaxed and had been too kind to let him stay.

He turned to the side and picked up the phone, realizing suddenly that it was getting late and he hadn't had dinner. He looked at the room-service menu and lamented at the extortion-level prices but eventually ended up ordering some food to hold him over for the night.

---

Marc heard the click of the door just as he was taking another bite of his overdone and overpriced burger. Wyatt wandered in nose-first, sniffing at the air.

"Taking advantage of my credit card, huh? I can't arrest you for social faux paus, but fraud is a serious crime." He stared down the man. "And didn't your momma teach her pups not to eat food in bed?" he added.

Marc almost spat out his burger, cursing with a mouth full of food. "Shhit". He chewed up the rest of the bite and swallowed. "I'm so sorry, I totally forgot your card is on the room." He kept a firm grip on the burger, but reached one hand into his pocket, holding out a hand full of cash to the mastiff. "This should cover all of it."

"Don't worry 'bout it." Wyatt reached out to the burger that was still in Marc's hand, wrapped a paw around the man's wrist, opened his maw, and took a large bite, barely missing the man's fingers. He released Marc and chewed happily. "That's payment enough. Nothing like a good burger for post-workout." He reached out and scooped up a paw-full of fries, stuffing them into his muzzle and rumbling happily.

Marc looked at the now much smaller burger in his hand and was jostled as the bed sank. Wyatt laid out on top of the covers, taking up three quarters of the mattress. His foot-paws hung over the end of the bed. The man looked around at the small space that was left. "Do you even fit into a normal sized bed?" Marc said. "It's gonna be a bit of a tight fit tonight, Wyatt."

Wyatt lifted his muzzle and looked up. He shrugged. "Can't help that I'm king-sized. I can fit into a lot of things, just gotta have the right mindset. We'll make it work". The canid snickered under his breath and switched topics.

"So how old are you, Marc? Twenty-five? Thirty?" He moved his arms up and placed his paws behind his head.

"Close," Marc replied. "I'm thirty-one." He continued to take bites of the burger.

"Gotcha. My boy is twenty-eight. Still trying to figure out how the world works, I suppose. My girl's just a year younger, though I'd say she's got her shit together pretty well," Wyatt replied.

"Hey, it takes some folks longer to figure things out than others." Marc offered. "Took me a while to decide what I wanted to do. How old are you, by the way? Turnabout's fair play."

"Fifty-one." he said. He brought one arm down to stroke the long muzzle fur. "Got this wonderful new color to show for it too. I've been told it makes me look more… refined." He looked like he was pondering something serious for a moment then returned to his previous position.

"Are your kids still in town and close to you and the Mrs.?" Marc asked.

Wyatt was quiet for a minute. "My boy is still in town. The girls are a bit further away. Wife and I been separated since the pups were old enough to break out on their own." the mastiff explained.

"Oh." said Marc. "Well life happens I suppose. Sorry, I didn't mean to pry or bring up bad memories."

"Naw, it's like you said. Life happens." Wyatt replied. "My ex and I are still on talking terms, so it's not all bad."

Marc sat quiet for a moment, trying to think of something to switch topics. He laid back on his small section of the bed, careful not to touch the massive dog laying next to him. He wasn't sure exactly how they were going to make the sleeping arrangements work without practically spooning. Neither spoke for a minute, until Marc broke the silence.

"Wyatt, you smell."

The mastiff burst out laughing. He dropped his arms from above his head, taking a whiff of his armpit as he lowered and rested them over his belly, still chuckling gently. "Look at you using your nose. Sorry about that. We canids don't sweat like you do, but I can still get pretty ripe after a good workout. I'll go take a shower. It'll just take me a while to blow-dry this coat."

Marc watched as the dog stood up and pulled his shirt over his head. He dropped his shorts and hooked his thumbs through the jockstrap, ready to drop those as well.

"Wait!" said Marc.Wyatt paused and looked at the man, confused. "You've already seen me in the fur. Is that a problem now?"

"No, no." Marc replied. "It's just that..." The man gestured to the canid. "You've got all that fur. It'll take me ten minutes to shower, and I bet it takes you thirty or more, plus or minus de-clogging the drain. Do you mind if I go first?"

Wyatt shucked off the jockstrap, and stood there without clothes for the second time that night. He extended his arm to the bathroom as if displaying a prize. "Right then, you go first fur-less wonder. Let me know if you run into trouble in there."

Marc smiled at the flirtatious comment and started pulling off his shirt. He walked into the bathroom and began to shut the door, calling back out to the dog. "Wyatt, if I didn't know better, I'd think you were…" He stopped mid-sentence and opened the door back up, poking his head out. "Wyatt are you…"

The mastiff barked a laugh from around the corner. "Take your shower, boy! Before I get tired of waiting!"

---

Steam filled the bathroom and Marc relished in it as he stood happily under the water. He had it running hot, enjoying the high pressure in the nice hotel room. The bath itself was over-sized, likely due to the necessity of a larger space for all the clientele that would be using the hotel, not just the humans. He thought back to the bed's regular proportions and realized maybe it was just a coincidence. While he was comparing the two differences in his head, the door to the bathroom opened, and Marc heard Wyatt pad into the room.

"It's been twenty minutes, son. Sure are taking your sweet time." said the dog.

Marc heard the splash of liquid meeting liquid and realized the mastiff was taking a leak. When he was done, he dropped the toilet lid down without flushing, courteous of the man in the shower.

"You really are taking the old man in the gym thing all the way aren't you?" Marc said over the noise of the water. "Not really one for personal space around strangers, huh?"

Marc couldn't see it, but Wyatt shrugged before leaning up against the counter-top and crossing his arms. "Guess I never really saw the whole point in hiding your body from someone." the dog replied. "Humans are the only ones that clothe their pups when they're young. When you've got fur covering your body, it's not that big of a deal. Bath-time doesn't have to be a solo affair either. It's a right pain in the ass to wash the fur on your back when you're alone."

Marc thought for a moment, then replied again from behind the curtain. "So I'm getting two things from this conversation. One, you're a nudist who doesn't like clothes."

The dog barked out a laugh. "I'm no nudist, but I already said I don't like clothes. You won't find a canid who does."

Marc continued. "Two, you're still in the bathroom, so either you're incredibly impatient, or you actually want me to wash your back."

There was silence from the other side. "Would it bother you if I said both?" the dog answered.

Marc sighed. The night had certainly taken a turn. He couldn't believe what he was about to say.

"Fine, get in here and I'll…"

There were two loud thumps as a wagging tail hit the counter-top. The giant dog pulled the curtain back and stepped in without reservation. Marc stepped back away from the stream of water as Wyatt handed him a bottle of fur shampoo and then dunked his frame under the water. The lettering on the bottle said something about getting "that luxurious silky smooth fur you've always wanted."

This was a first for Marc. Wyatt was busy soaking the water into his fur, and simply seemed to be enjoying the hot shower. There didn't appear to be any pretense to his actions other than wanting to get clean, but Marc just couldn't believe he was sharing the space with the dog. He stood still, watching the water pour over the dark colored fur, making it seem even darker now that it was getting soaked. Wyatt spun around once or twice, his tail brushing against Marc's belly and batting the shower curtain as he did so. Mark now noticed gray creeping into the fur in several locations, particularly the canids chest and lower belly.

The old dog turned back around and looked at Marc standing there. He reached out and took the shampoo from him. "Hold out your paws."

Marc obliged and Wyatt squirted a large amount into his palms before using some himself. He turned back around and began to lather it against his chest.

"You getting cold feet back there?" he asked.

Marc reached up to place his hands against the dog's back, but stopped.

"I'm gonna be touching your tail if I do this, Wyatt." the man replied.

The dog looked over his shoulder. "That's fine. You're not groping me in public here. Anyways, my tail could use some work too while you're back there."

Marc stepped forward, letting the mastiff's tail brush up against him while he lathered up the dog's back and began running his fingers through the fur. He moved from the canid's midsection and up to his shoulders, standing up on his toes to reach the full height. As he did so, the dog's thick tail slid between Marc's legs, but the man was still too embarrassed about touching it to move. He simply tried to ignore it and left it there while he worked. He brushed against the fur and then back down with it, which was relaxing in its own way. He finally began to work his way lower, making sure everything was covered in suds. When he reached the dog's lower back, he continued to scrub the fur with his hands until he slid them to the base of Wyatt's tail. The dog lifted it slightly, raising it up against Marc's own crotch. It sparked a response and a rush of blood from the man.

Marc acted quickly, trying to keep himself from getting flustered. He gently pulled the tail out from between his legs and stepped back, running his fingers over it. Soap spread with his movements from base to tip. Wyatt turned his head again.

"You doing alright back there?" he asked. His eyes moved down the man, and he saw the semi-hard erection Marc was sporting. The mastiff noticed that Marc was standing back and looking embarrassed, but still diligently washing his fur and trying not to make a scene.

Wyatt sighed. "I'm sorry if this is too much, son. I think I got a little carried away. Why don't I just rinse off and you can finish up in here?"

Marc felt the dog's tail slip from his fingers as Wyatt pulled away and began rinsing the soap off. He stood for a split second before reaching forward and taking hold of the dog's tail again, which made the canid turn again slightly.

"Uh, Marc?" he said.

The man spoke up. "You asked me to do this so I'm doing it. I can come to my own assumptions about you as well, and I figured if you didn't enjoy my company or have some interest in me, I don't think you would have gone this far to literally share a shower with me, traditional canid nudism be damned. Now, if you're not interested, I'll finish up and you can rinse off, but if you are, then you're doing my back next, you old geezer."

Wyatt's lips curled up in a big toothy smile and he stepped up against Marc again, going back to lathering his fur.

"Alright then, work it in good and deep. Don't forget those chiseled cheeks back there either!"

Marc smiled and continued more confidently, his fingers running along the base, tip, and bottom of the dogs tail before moving forward and placing his hands on Wyatt's rear. The fur was thinner here, but he still tried his best to work the soap into it.

"I'm fairly certain you can reach this area yourself, Wyatt." Marc snickered. Wyatt's tail wagged, brushing against Marc's belly and leaving a trail of soap in it's wake.

"Why don't you work on something else then?" the big dog said.

He reached his large paws back and gripped Marc's wrists gently, pulling the man forward until he was standing up against the dog's backside. Marc's chest and stomach pressed against the soaped-up mastiff as the dog wrapped the human's arms around his waist and set them gently on the thick furry skin of his sheath.

"You ever hear the doc tell his furred patients they gotta wash this area real thoroughly?" the dog asked. Marc nodded but didn't respond out loud, so Wyatt continued. "Different anatomy means different concerns. Gotta make sure you keep yourself clean for yourself and for any potential partners. Nobody wants to dirty mutt down there." He scoffed. “Well I guess that's not always true."

Marc gripped the skin gently, getting to feel in his hands just how large it was. He moved slowly, feeling the length of the sheath itself and wondering just how large the contents were. His fingers traced down the crease of the dog's thigh, finally cupping and feeling the weight of the orbs that hung there. He leaned his head forward against the dog's back, gently groping and touching the mastiff without being able to see. As he continued to explore, he could feel the area thickening, responding to his touch and filling out greatly. Wyatt rumbled happily while the man's hand traced over his most sensitive area. He placed his oversized paws on the wall of the shower, letting the water splash off his head as the man behind him continued his blind exploration of the old dog's body.

After a few minutes of gentle groping and massaging, and just as Marc began to feel the protrusion of smooth tapered skin from the sheath, Wyatt reached down and lifted Marc's hands away. He rinsed out the remaining suds from his fur before turning and gripping Marc's shoulders, trading places with the man.

Wyatt ran his paws over the man, spreading soap but not needing near as much time to lather it up due to the lack of fur. In a short amount of time, Marc was washed from head to toe. This was after the dog has spent some admittedly extra moments working and kneading his rear. With the soap washed off, Wyatt sat down, placing his head at the level of Marc's torso, while the man's body blocked the stream of water.

Marc watched the dog sit before speaking up. "What are you doing, Wyatt?"

The mastiff wrapped his paws around Marc's waist and pulled the man toward him. "Come closer."

When Marc stepped forward, his crotch lined up with the dog's lowered head. After all the washing and groping, he had become fully erect and he watched as Wyatt's maw opened, taking the man into his mouth completely. The dog began to run his tongue over Marc's length, making his knees buckle slightly as he let out a long moan. Wyatt worked diligently, sucking gently as he bobbed back and forth, one moment kissing and suckling on the tip and the next driving his muzzle forward until his large nose pressed against Marc's stomach.

The man reached forward and gripped the furry head for support, holding on as Wyatt continued to caress and coax his flesh for a response. While his tongue worked on the front, Wyatt reached a paw up and gripped the man's balls gently, massaging them and occasionally tugging as the sensations from his cock overloaded his system. Marc was beginning to breath heavily while the mastiff serviced him, and he could feel the breath from the canid's nose against his skin. His own hips began to move in sync with the muzzle engulfing him, and suddenly he felt a digit slide up between his cheeks, pressing gently against the tender ring of flesh hiding there. He didn't stop Wyatt's advance and instead lifted his leg, placing it against the edge of the tub. Without words he was allowing the canid better access to his backside. In response, he felt the thick digit press up against him, providing more and more pressure until it finally slid in. Marc gasped as he was invaded, and gripped Wyatt's ears as he felt it explore and curl inside him, massaging him from the inside, encouraging him to release.

Marc leaned forward, grunting, and began to hump into the muzzle, unconcerned with anything but his release. After a few moments of exploring inside the man, Wyatt found his mark and the human tensed up as a thick digit pressed firmly against his prostate. Marc pushed forward one last time, forcing the dog's nose against his belly and holding on tight as he came into the warm, gray muzzle. Wyatt sucked and swallowed, taking all the Marc had to offer as the man slumped gently against his face.

Wyatt pulled away when the man's release slowed, licking his lips and grinning. Marc stepped away and turned off the water; the bathroom had pretty much turned into a sauna while they had been distracted. He turned back as Wyatt was standing up and saw the massive member now protruding from his sheath, pulsing and standing to attention. Wyatt gripped himself tightly, showing off.

"Get dried off, son. I don't think we're done yet."

---

Marc laid on top of his side of the bed and waited for the big dog to finish drying up in the bathroom. Like he had said, it was taking forever for the canid to blow-dry all of that fur. When the whirring finally stopped, he looked up to see Wyatt walking toward the bed. The canid was no longer poking out of his sheath, but it was still thick and swaying with each step. Marc watched it was some minor apprehension.

"Well I feel much better. How about you?" He said, climbing up on the mattres and turning on his side, looking at Marc.

"Definitely feeling a bit more relaxed after the extra long shower." The man replied. "I didn't expect to be giving the dog a bone when we first walked in here."

Wyatt snorted. "Hey, you're not supposed to be telling lame jokes. That's my job. Age forty and up only."

Marc laughed. "I saw the opportunity, so I had to take it."

"I know exactly what you mean." The mastiff replied. He leaned forward and licked Marc on the nose. The man wiped away the spit but smiled. Wyatt continued. "I've got my own bone that I'm itching to bury, but if you want to turn out the lights and hit the sack, no pressure."

Marc looked down between the dog's legs and reached out, pressing his skin to the fur and feeling the firmness underneath. His touch made the mastiff twitch, and he noticed a large amount of clear fluid gathering at the opening of the sheath. Wyatt waited patiently for the man to respond.

"I'm honestly not sure you would… fit." Marc finally said. Wyatt wrapped his paws around the man and pulled him close. Their bodies pressed against each other, and Marc could feel the slick fluid from the sheath against his belly now.

"I told you I'm king sized." The dog replied. "I can fit into a lot of things. Just takes some willingness and some time."

Marc looked up at the mastiff cradling him He placed a quick peck on the dog's muzzle that was met by several licks and another tight hug. "OK," was all Marc said.

Wyatt grinned. "Good boy. Now turn around."

Marc flipped over and lay on his stomach while Wyatt turned to the side of the bed and rummaged through his bag. He came back with a large bottle of lube and set it on the bedside table. He then turned his attention to Marc's backside, lifting the man's leg's up gently until he was on his knees. Marc felt the flow of air over his cheeks as the dog sniffed and then yelped as a cold nose dove between them. Wyatt's tongue got to work and licked gently between the man's crack. He pressed in firmly, putting pressure on Marc's pucker, letting the drool from his mouth leak over the man's backside as he licked and caressed his hidden skin. Marc closed his eyes and reveled in the feeling as the mastiff took his time. He could feel each movement as Wyatt kept his nose buried. The old dog even reached up and began to grip his sack again, massaging and tugging gently as he lapped at the man's backside.

Marc experienced a firmer pressure now as the dog's tongue explored against his entrance. He felt it test the waters then finally break the barrier and push inside him slightly, making his passage slick with spit. Marc couldn't help but press back into the muzzle and he heard Wyatt rumble happily, the vibrations from the dog adding even more to the stimulation. Wyatt's paws retreated from his own member and came up to massage the man's cheeks, pressing into them firmly as the dog licked and slurped and licked some more.

Eventually, Marc felt the pressure retreat, and the bed creaked slightly as weight shifted and Wyatt reached over to the bottle of lube. There was a faint pop and then a cool liquid trickled over his hole and across his taint before the dog reached down and slid his digit through the slick substance, gathering it up and pressing two digits into the man. Marc groaned as he felt them enter him. Wyatt placed his other paw on Marc's back and spread his knees slightly, opening them as he continued to gently slide in and out with those fingers. Marc moaned happily, but also realized could feel something else now as warm, slick flesh pressed up underneath him. The dog's member was free of it's sheath again, and it's length was nestled under Marc's own body, lightly touching his own cock as it throbbed gently. Marc reached underneath him and gripped the large pole, sliding his hand across it as Wyatt played with his hole, probing the man again and again, preparing him for what was to come.

As the canid's fingers massaged his backside, Marc began to feel a thick warm liquid spurt into his hand, and it didn't show any signs of stopping. He turned back to look at Wyatt who grinned.

"Come with my own.. excessive natural assistance, but I figured you wouldn't mind a little extra help." He winked.

Marc turned back around and muffled his moans in the pillow in front of him. He let go of Wyatt and gripped it tightly as the dog's fingers slid out of him. "Alright, boy. Looks like I'm finally cleared for landing."

Wyatt chuckled at himself and Marc groaned again, but not out of pleasure. Before he could respond, he felt warm flesh press against his hole with liquid leaking from it steadily, adding to the lube already in place. He braced himself as Wyatt pressed forward, inching himself gently into the human. Marc gritted his teeth as he was entered, and Wyatt exhaled heavily, retreating only momentarily and allowing more precum to flood into the man.

The old dog pressed forward once more, stretching Marc open a second time. This time he didn't let up, and his hips continued to slide forward, forcing that hungry cock into the man, pulsing and leaking as he drove his hips down. Suddenly, Marc reached back and grabbed Wyatt's paw, wordlessly asking him to stop. Wyatt eased up, but stayed buried, giving the man a moment to adjust. Marc could feel every twitch and pulse from the old canid that was stretching him open.

Wyatt leaned forward, careful not to press in any further and licked the back of Marc's neck. "Almost there, son. You're doing great."

While he was leaned over the man, he reached his clean paw forward and gently grasped Marc under the chin. A digit crept up to the man's mouth and pressed gently.

"Relax and open up. Suck on it. Take your mind off it."

Marc opened his mouth and let the dog in, sucking on the clawed finger while Wyatt began inching forward again. After what seemed like ages, Marc could finally feel a bulb of flesh pressed against the skin of his backside and Wyatt relaxed on top of him gently. The dog's finger was still caressing his tongue, providing distraction, but Marc knew the dog's knot was pressed against him.

"There we go, hard part's over. You're so tight, Marc. Squeeze down on it for me milk my co-" Marc tried to do what he was told and Wyatt shuddered forcefully. “Gooooood boy."

While still leaning over the man, Wyatt began to pull his hips back and press them forward, sliding that massive member in and out. After a few short thrusts, he was eventually able to retreat all the way to the tip and then press back in, twitching and filling Marc with more and more precum. Every time he moved, the man could feel skin slide against skin as the mastiff's length was forced into him. He moaned into the pillow, suckled on the old dog's paw and rode the waves of stimulation as it became easier and easier for the canid to pump in and out of the human. Wyatt began to grunt and growl as well, gripping the man tighter around the neck and jaw as his hips repeatedly connected with and then left the human's backside.

Wyatt's other arm wrapped underneath the man, tightening around his belly as his tempo rose. Gentle sounds became more harsh as the dog growled incessantly, gritting his teeth as he forced himself inside the human. Marc could feel drool on his back as Wyatt became more active, and he could feel that heavy, churning sack collide with his own skin on each thrust. Marc was in ecstasy as the dog continued, the pressure no longer a burden but a wonderful feeling as the flesh pumped in and out of him. Marc continued to suckle on the dog's paw as he felt the knot press harder with each blow. Wyatt was huge, but he had made it work so far. He couldn't imagine the canid trying to tie, but Wyatt was becoming more and more aggressive with each thrust, panting and drooling above the man as he moved, and Marc was starting to become unsure.

"Oh, son, I'm getting close."

Marc's body rocked forward on the bed with each thrust. With each press of that giant knot against his backside, his body accepted it more, loosening with a hunger Marc didn't know he had to try and take the full length. He could feel the tight grip of the mastiff above him, and it didn't feel like he had any intention of letting go. He didn't attempt to stop Wyatt at this point and didn't want to. He was much too lost in his own bliss to say anything, so he grit his teeth, biting down on the digit in his mouth as Wyatt's grunt and growls became louder and louder. The dog was humping furiously now, the knot pressing in little by little with each forceful push, demanding entry. The canid continued to thrust and pulse and leak inside Marc as the man bit the pillow and held on tightly. Eventually, Wyatt removed his paw from the man's mouth, sliding it out of the moaning human and gripping him by the shoulders. Fur continued to slap against skin with such force that Marc couldn't help but cry out each time.

"Fuck, son. I'm gonna spread you wide open and breed you full of my pups."

Marc knew it was coming, but he still braced himself and felt the dog crash into him a few more times before pressing his hips forward and crying out as the thick knot was forced into the smaller human. It slid through Marc's stretched hole until it became fully engulfed, and the man's body responded by squeezing around it tightly. Wyatt cried out now, his hips continuing to buck into Marc as the mastiff came forcefully inside the human. His cock pulsed in waves, coating the man's insides that were already full of thick flesh and were now flooded with warm seed. Marc came again, without either of the two noticing, as Wyatt continued to empty himself completely into the man beneath him, panting heavily as his body spasmed.

When the pulsing waves of the mastiff's release slowed, Wyatt held onto Marc and slid down to his side. They were both out of breath as they lay there, connected with the canid's cock still pulsing frequently. Marc stayed as still as he could, but every movement from the dog caused shockwaves of sensations through his body. The dog gripped him tightly, nuzzling his neck while the two tried to recover.

After a few moments of respite and having become more at ease, Marc reached down between his legs where Wyatt was still lodged. He felt the large sack resting against him. The touch sent a shiver through the mastiff and he tensed again, pulsing another string of cum weakly inside of the man.

"Are you… still going?" Marc asked.

Wyatt rubbed his paw over Marc's chest. "I'll be leaking in you for a bit. Guess it's been a while and I got a little carried away." He pulled Marc closer into his warm fur. "But this way we both fit on the bed just fine."

Wyatt soon fell asleep and began snoring quietly, but Marc was unable to sleep until he slid the canid out of his sore body. He cleaned up once more then came back to the bed to find Wyatt splayed out and covering the entire mattress. Instead of curling up in the far corner, Marc crawled up under the arms of the dog which wrapped themselves around him, hugging the human tight against the fur-covered body.