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Furry: The Bath
All stories on this web site are purely FICTIONAL. The people depicted within these stories only exist in someone's IMAGINATION. Any resemblence between anyone depicted in these stories and any real person, living or dead, is an incredible COINCIDENCE too bizarre to be believed. If you think that you or someone you know is depicted in one of these stories it's only because you're a twisted perverted little fucker who sees conspiracies and plots where none exist. You probably suspect that your own MOTHER had sex with ALIENS and COWS and stuff. Well, she didn't. It's all in your head. Now take your tranquilizers and RELAX.
A furry story as requested... Hope you like...
Note: I'm just a reposter, and not the author...
originally posted by: snarler@maple.circa.ufl.edu (Drifter...)
"THE BATH"
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(A sex-drenched human/intelligent furry humanoid love story).
I was standing outside the plant where I work, waiting for
my ride home. Even though it was a Friday, and on this particu-
lar payday we had also received our monthly bonus checks, this
had still been a hell of a day; most of the day I had spent out
in the machine shop, fixing a broken automated milling machine.
A grimy, oily, messy job, taking those old machines apart, and to
make matters worse an oil line had ruptured while I was working.
While I dodged the worst of it, my clothes and fur were still
badly stained with oily grunge. Then, while working, a wire-
stripping tool snapped shut on my finger, breaking blood vessels
under the skin and ripping out some fur...and of course, when I
came out of the plant, it was cold and rainy.
Needless to say, when Gary (the human I live with) picked me
up in front of the plant - within two blocks of each other we
work, so we carpool - I was in a _foul_ mood. I climbed into the
car, slamming the door, and sat back in the seat, closing my eyes
and sighing heavily. After a moment, I felt a reassuring squeeze
on my hand.
"Bad day, Kerja?" Gary asked me. Concern I could hear in
his voice, and feel in his hand...I sighed again, nodding slowly,
looking over at him. "The _worst_. One thing after another..."
"What happened?"
"I don't even want to talk about it," I said, snapping in
sudden frustration. "Just let's go home." I sat back again,
closing my eyes, trying to unwind. I felt the car start moving,
carrying me away from the plant, and towards home; and for a few
minutes I just sat there, letting the steady vibration of the
road calm me down again. Then I looked over at Gary, and put a
hand on his shoulder. "Gary...sorry I am. Didn't mean to snap
at you like that. It's just -"
"Hey, it's alright," he said, interrupting, patting my knee.
"You're just tired and upset, honeybunny. You'll feel better
when we get home."
"No, it's _not_ okay...shouldn't take it out on you." He
just smiled, and turned back to driving us home; and I knew that
he already considered it forgotten. Nice to know that someone
understands you...I leaned back, closing my eyes again, slowly
letting myself relax. Gary turned on the radio, tuning into our
favorite station. The signature for the "Afternoon Road Show"
came on (a quitting-time whistle, squealing tires, and an an-
nouncer telling everyone that "it's time to kick some asphalt"),
then the DJ telling us that the featured artist for the show was
the Greatful Dead. The familiar strains of "Touch of Grey"
filled the car; and although at first I really didn't feel like
singing along, after a few moments I found myself doing it any-
way, slipping into the catchy lyrics...Gary joined in after a
second, and the two of us formed a sometimes-uncertain but always
enthusiastic harmony as we traveled towards home.
A few minutes later, I felt the car turning, and slowing
down to a stop. But it seemed to soon for us to be home already;
I looked, and saw us pulling into a parking lot in front of a
Magna grocery store. "What - "
"I just need to pick up a couple of things, Kerja," he told
me. "Why don't you just wait here; I won't be but a couple of
minutes."
True to his word, after a few minutes he was back carrying a
medium-sized paper bag, which he tossed behind his seat as he
climbed back into the car. He started the engine, and we drove
away.
Ten minutes or so later, we were home again. Wearily, I
climbed out of the car, unlocking the apartment door as Gary
retrieved his package and locked the car. Inside the apartment,
I felt a little better, for being home. As soon as the door was
closed I set down my things and started stripping off my oily
clothes. I wasn't particularly concerned about undressing in
front of Gary; we've lived together long enough that it's cer-
tainly nothing he hasn't seen before. Besides, at the moment I
wanted _out_ of those filthy clothes more than I cared about
modesty. After stripping down to my fur, I carried my clothes
into the kitchen, grabbed a plastic bag, and stuffed them into it
before dumping the whole package in the laundry basket. No sense
in getting oil all over everything else in there too.
I came back out to the kitchen again (the kitchen/dining
room is in the middle of the apartment; bedroom on one side,
living room on the other, bathroom just off the kitchen on the
bedroom side, so to get anywhere you have to go through the
kitchen) and found Gary there, washing the breakfast dishes.
"Gary, I'm -"
He put a finger to my lips, interrupting. "First thing
you're going to do, honeybunny, is take a shower and get that
crud out of your fur." Drying his hands, he reached into the
grocery sack and pulled out a bottle of shampoo. "Here; I no-
ticed you were out this morning," he said. Then he took out a
small box, and pressed both it and the bottle into my hands.
"_Then_, you're going to run yourself a nice _hot_ bath, drop two
of these into it, and soak yourself for at _least_ an hour, while
_I_ fix dinner for both of us. And _don't_ ask what we're hav-
ing," he added, anticipating my question. "It's a surprise. Now
go on," he said, and steered me towards the washroom.
That's one of the nice things about living with someone;
when one of us feels bad the other is always there to make us
feel better again. I wanted to hug him, but I didn't want to get
_his_ clothes dirty too; so I settled for giving him an affec-
tionate lick on the cheek before I shut the bathroom door. I
drew the shower curtain closed and turned the water on, setting
the water to as hot as I could stand, and stepped inside. For a
moment I stood there, gasping as the hot water soaked through my
fur, then I opened the shampoo bottle and started soaping up the
grimiest areas of my fur. Face, arms, ears, tail, and even my
chest and thighs where oil had soaked through my clothes; so
grungy I was that the soap suds formed _grey_ instead of white.
Finally, back under the water I ducked, rinsing away the worst of
the oily dirt, and I turned the water temperature down to a more
comfortable warmth to finish my shower.
Starting at my shoulders, I worked liberal amounts of sham-
poo into my fur, then down each arm, first the left and then the
right. Then back to my upper chest, massaging, enjoying the feel
of my fur becoming soapy and slick under my hands, working
down to my breasts. As I worked, I felt myself relaxing, start-
ing to enjoy the shower as much for its pleasurable feelings as
for the cleaning. Starting with my right breast, I cupped it in
my hands, gently massaging shampoo into the fur all over its
surface, enjoying the pleasurable feel of my fingers brushing the
nipple and sliding over the slick fur. While soaping, I paid
close attention to the feel of my breast under my fingers,
searching for any irregularities that might signal cancer or
cysts. I felt nothing unusual, as I knew I wouldn't; a full
physical I had had only two weeks ago, with a clean bill of
health, but its good to develop and keep the habit of self-exami-
nations. With my left breast I repeated the soaping...lingering
a bit longer than necessary, enjoying the sensations, pausing for
a moment to play with the nipples on both breasts, feeling them
harden under my fingers. The erotic feelings, plus the gentle
spray of water on my back and the sweet smell of the shampoo,
were making me more relaxed, helping to relieve the stress of the
day. Calmly, slowly, I moved my hands into the area between my
breasts, working the soap deep into the thicker ruff of fur
there, then sliding one hand underneath each breast, back and
forth, cupping and massaging them some more, feeling myself
getting more than a little aroused from the attention.
Finally, I moved on from my breast-massaging, continuing
down my chest and stomach, enjoying the lingering, erotic feel-
ings. After all the attention I'd given them, my nipples were so
hard that I could easily see them peeking out through the soapy
fur. I started back up my sides, slowly, lingering whenever I
came close to my breasts, until my entire front and sides were
thoroughly soaped and slick. I moved away from the spray, and
took a large, long-handled brush from its hook by the shower
head. It's one of those brushes that you find in the automotive
sections of K-Mart; the kind where you pour soap into the handle
and water pressure forces it out through the bristles. I had a
somewhat different application in mind; with the long handle and
the shampoo cavity, it's an easy and stimulating way to shampoo
and scrub one's back. I still don't know what made me think of
trying it, but it works like a charm. It always makes me giggle,
though, to imagine the inventor's face, if only he knew...
I poured some of the shampoo into the handle, and opened the
small valve in the hose connecting it to the shower head. Water
came out of the brush for a moment, and then the soap started to
foam in the bristles. I reached behind me with the brush and
started to scrub my shoulders and back, enjoying the stimulating
feel of the bristles scrubbing into my fur, working the soap into
areas I'd be hard-pressed to reach by hand. Lower and lower I
scrubbed, gasping at the tingly feeling the scrub-brush left in
its wake, until I reached my tail and rump. I turned off the
water valve, rinsed the bristles under the shower spray, and set
the brush back on its hook. Once I get down to my tail, soaping
by hand is easier, and more fun, than using the brush...
The tail was first. I knew it just _had_ to be pretty
grungy after crawling around a machine shop all day, so I spent a
fair amount of time kneading soap into the puffy, cotton-ball
fur. Of course, that wasn't the only reason I gave my tail
plenty of attention; when I'm turned on, the base of my tail gets
very sensitive, and even a light touch becomes sexually arousing
and pleasurable. And I was getting pretty turned on by now; as I
slowly kneaded my tail and the surrounding area at its base, I
felt the beginnings of a warmth and wetness between my legs that
had nothing to do with the warm spray of water from the shower.
But, I don't like to leave shampoo on my fur for too long;
it tends to make it frizzy. Reluctantly, I stopped the pleasura-
ble massaging and stepped back into the spray, turning back and
forth, running my hands down my upper body, letting the soap wash
out of my fur and down the drain until my upper body fur was
clean and shiny. Then, I stepped back, and started on my lower
body fur...
At my feet I started. Since my feet are a bit ticklish, I
sat down on the side of the shower to do them. Then up my
calves, and knees, and then I stood up to continue up my thighs
and around to my rump, soaping thoroughly every inch of the way,
and _extra_ thoroughly around my rump, tail, and inner thighs,
until finally...
I applied some more soap to my hand, and slipped one hand
down into my crotch, starting on the fur there. I gasped in
pleasure from the feelings, getting more and more aroused by the
moment. My fingers seemed to have a life of their own, teasing
their way around first the outer lips, then the inner ones,
slowly and sensuously stroking the sensitive skin inside, making
me shudder a little in delight. Again, I spent lots time in this
area, gently pleasuring myself with my slick, soapy hands rubbing
my against equally slick and very aroused "private regions",
leaning against the side of the shower and being very grateful
for the non-slip stick-ons in the tub...until at last, a gentle,
warm ripple of pleasure my efforts produced, leaving me panting
slightly as I ducked back under the shower to rinse away the
soap.
As I stepped out, I was surprised to notice that the shower
had only about ten minutes taken...longer it had seemed. I
switched the water from shower to faucet, and started filling the
tub. I never understood why humans liked baths so much until I
tried it; while it's not much good for getting clean, as least
not for us "furries", it _is_ a great way to relax. While the
tub filled, I picked up the box Gary had given me and read it.
"Actibath carbonated bath tablets. Indulgent bath therapy.
Spring Floral." I hadn't any idea what _that_ meant, but inter-
esting it sounded. Following the instructions on the side, I
waited until the tub was about half-full, then opened the box and
took out two foil-wrapped squares. I removed the foil wrapper
from one; inside was a large, chalky, pale-blue tablet a little
over four centimeters square, and about one cm thick, with a
faint flowery smell. I unwrapped the other tablet, and tossed
both of them into the tub, where they immediately started fizz-
ing. After a few moments, the water started to turn a deep blue
color, and give off a strong floral scent; at least, the scent
was strong to _me_, although to a human it probably wouldn't be.
While it looked inviting, I didn't just jump in. First, I
read over the box again, paying attention to the ingredients
list. It sounded innocuous enough to my limited knowledge of
chemistry; apparently it consisted mostly of sodium bicarbonate
(baking soda to the non-chemist, which along with the fumaric
acid explained the energetic fizzing), fragrances, a little blue
dye...I'd made it a point to read a few books on these sorts of
things, because unfortunately very few of the "health & beauty"
products out there are made with us furries in mind and some of
them _do_ have adverse effects on us. If you're lucky, the worst
effect is that the fragrances they put in them are too strong for
our more sensitive sense of smell; if you're _unlucky_, you could
wake up with green fur or something...Cautiously, I put one hand
in the water for a minute or two, checking to make sure whatever
was dissolving into the water wouldn't do anything funny to my
fur.
These tablets didn't seem to be doing anything unpleasant,
though; even the scent, though strong, wasn't disagreeably so.
Once the tub was full, I shut off the faucet and slowly lowered
myself into the fragrant blue water, sighing as the warm water
soaked through my fur, sliding down until I was immersed from the
neck down. I closed my eyes, relaxing, letting my mind go blank.
I was _almost_ completely relaxed, when I was startled by a
sudden hissing sound and a tickly feeling on the bottom of my
foot. I started, opening my eyes and looking around for the
source of the hissing. For a second, I couldn't figure out what
it was; then I saw the little white square floating around on the
surface of the water. One of the tablets had dissolved too small
to keep itself submerged, and had surfaced next to my foot, which
explained the tickling. I amused myself by chasing the little
square around the water with my toes until it finally broke up
and dissolved away. Just as it occurred to me to wonder when the
second one would come up, it did...right between my legs, still
fizzing, tickling the sensitive outer lips and making me squeak
and giggle until after a minute it too dissolved away.
The tickling and the warm water had gotten my arousal
stirred up again; almost without thinking, my right hand slipped
down between my legs again, my fingers gently teasing the thick
fur covering the sensitive area below, while the left hand came
up to caress my breasts. Slowly, my fingers traced circles
around each one, first the right one, then the left, sliding my
index finger underneath each breast and then teasing the thicker
fur in the area between them. After a few moments, I went back
to stimulating the breasts themselves, tracing smaller and small-
er circles and slowly homing in on the pink nipples poking
through the fur. Below, I kept teasing and stroking my thick
crotchfur, every so often pinching the fur between my fingers and
gently tugging on it, lightly tracing the outline of my inner
regions without directly stimulating them just yet, exploring the
different areas of my own body. Unlike some people, I've never
been afraid to explore my own body, or embarrassed about giving
myself pleasure. So many people think that masturbating is just
for giving yourself sexual pleasure when no "real" lover is
available, not realizing that it has other uses; self-pleasuring
can be soothing and relaxing, helping to clear your mind for a
while by giving you something to concentrate on that few things
can distract you from, or it can relieve tension by giving you an
outlet for pent-up energies...it's all in how you approach it.
Gradually, I shifted my attention from the fur covering my
muff to the lips themselves, taking the outer ones between my
thumb and fingers. I closed my eyes again, focussing on the feel
of my soft, fleshy, furry outer lips, stroking them with the tips
of my fingers and comparing the different feelings of stroking
the furry outer surface and the furless inner side. I felt my
crotch, especially my outer lips, getting warmer under my fingers
as blood rushed to the area in response to my growing arousal.
As the pleasure grew stronger, I increased the speed, stroking
the entire length of my slightly swollen outer lips, first one,
then the other, and sometimes using two fingers to stroke both at
once, concentrating not just on the sensations coming from my
muff but from my fingers too; the wet, furry feel of my lips'
outer surface, and the blood-warm, smooth feel of the inner side.
All the while, I kept stimulating my breasts with my right hand,
feeling the nipples swell and harden as I rolled each one between
my fingers, and sometimes gently pinching them. The sensations
were erotic, and yet soothing, burying the unpleasantness of the
day underneath the rising pleasure my own fingers were giving me.
After a few minutes, I slipped my fingers from the outer
lips to the inner ones, using a lighter touch on their smooth,
sensitive surface, feeling them thicken and swell under my touch,
reveling in the stronger sensations my gentle stroking produced
as I tried different rates and pressures, sometimes lightly
pinching one between my thumb and finger for a few strokes. As I
continued the gentle stroking, I started to pant slightly from
the heat of the water and the rising pleasure inside. By now, I
was thoroughly aroused, my whole body becoming more sensitive. I
was deliberately holding back from giving myself greater stimula-
tion; often, I love to tease myself this way, seeing how long I
can fight my own desires at each step.
Finally, though, my need grew uncontrollable, and I shifted
my left hand away from my breasts and down to my muff, placing
one fingertip on either side of my clit, caressing the skin
around it with light, feathery strokes that made me crazy with
desire; again, I fought the impulse to go further, but now it was
so much harder to resist. My hips started thrusting slowly up
and down, pushing into my hands and stirring up gentle waves in
the water. I held back for a little longer, then decided I'd
tortured myself long enough with this teasing and finally surren-
dered to the pleasure, going all out now to release the orgasm I
felt building inside me. Two fingers of my right hand began to
work their way slowly up into my love-channel, while with my left
hand I circled my clit with my thumb and two fingers, completely
surrounding and stimulating it from the tip, sides, and hood all
at once. My right fingers buried themselves inside my cunt; from
frequent experience, I knew right where to direct them for the
best stimulation, and just what rhythm to use in thrusting. I
closed my eyes, letting my fingers do their magic below, feeling
the still-warm, sweet-smelling water surrounding me, rocking me
in the gentle waves I was stirring up. A few quick, nonspecific
fantasies drifted through my mind, recollections of past lovers
both real and imaginary, as I slowly but inexorably drove myself
to the climax I so badly wanted, until finally I felt the tin-
gling in my crotch that told me I was teetering on the edge. For
a moment, I considered backing off again, holding back a little
longer, but the tingly feel grew so unbearable so quickly that I
never had a chance and I barely managed to stifle my squeal of
ecstasy as I climaxed there in the water. My hardened, sensitive
nipples were repeatedly bathed in warm water, then exposed to the
cool air again as I rocked back and forth in the tub, kicking up
stronger waves that crested and broke over my breasts.
Finally it was all over, and slowly, reluctantly, I slid my
fingers back out of my cunt and released my clit, letting myself
go limp in the water as the last echoes of orgasm faded away,
leaving behind both pleasant memories and a much more contented
feeling than I'd had a while ago. The clock on the wall told me
that of the one-hour minimum that Gary had given me, I had about
ten minutes left, so I just lay there for the rest of the time,
feeling my fur drift lazily in the water. When I next looked
over at the clock, about twenty minutes had gone by and I real-
ized that at some point I must've drifted off for a quick nap.
And I felt a lot better; the combination of the shower, the nap,
and the self-pleasuring had left me feeling refreshed and alive
again, with the terrible day I'd had at work little more than a
vaguely unpleasant memory filed away somewhere.
I climbed out of the tub and opened the drain, dripping
water onto the bath-mat while I watched the water spiral down the
drain. That spiral motion always fascinates me, because I was
born and raised in the _southern_ hemisphere of Teydurax; al-
though we learned in school what causes the spiraling motion, and
I was always _told_ that it would spiral the opposite way in the
north, I had never been exposed to the phenomenon until I came
here. And even though I've been living here on Earth for over
three years now and I've seen it happen dozens of times, I
_still_ can't get used to seeing the bath water spiral down the
drain in what seems to _me_ to be the _wrong_ direction!
After the last of the water drained away, I pulled a towel
off of the rack and dried myself down until I was fluffy and damp
instead of matted and dripping wet. I replaced the towel on the
rack and searched around for the blow-dryer, which wasn't on its
hook. After a few moments of searching, I was forced to conclude
that the dryer wasn't anywhere to be found in the bathroom. I
sighed, wrapped a large bath towel around me, and stepped out
into the kitchen where Gary was just finishing a second set of
dishes. The oven was on, so I knew he'd been cooking - he loves
to cook - but I had no clue as to _what_ he'd been cooking. All
I could smell was that lemon-scented air deodorizer - the kind
they use in hospitals that not only add the lemon scent to the
air but also partially kill your sense of smell - he uses when he
wants to surprise me. He turned to look at me as I came out of
the bathroom, dried his hands on the dishtowel, and came over to
give me a firm hug. "Feel better now, honeybunny?" he asked.
I nodded, and gave him a warm, although slightly damp hug in
return. He leaned closer, as if to kiss me; but instead of a
kiss, he gently licked my muzzle on both sides, grooming the
short muzzlefur with his tongue, while one hand slipped higher to
scratch me tenderly behind the ears. I melted into this display
of tenderness, returning the favor with a few well-placed licks
of my own (while humans don't have a muzzle as such, it's the
thought that counts). I am given to understand that Gary is
something of a rarity among humans; although it took a little
while for him to make the adjustment at first, he is now comfort-
able with and enjoys the "furry" ways of showing affection,
including the various licks, nuzzles, and gentle nips that most
humans seem to find so objectionable. (Something which I've
never been able to get a satisfactory explanation for; most of
them tolerate and even enjoy receiving the same forms of affec-
tion from their non-sentient pets, yet recoil from the idea of
giving it to or receiving it from another sentient.) After a few
moments of mutual affection, we pulled away again, and I felt a
warm glow inside...and a slight chill outside from my damp fur.
"Gary, have you seen the blow-dryer? It's not in the bathroom
where it belongs."
With a smile, he took my hand and led me to the living room;
I followed, sensing he had another surprise for me in there. And
he did, too; he had draped two giant beach towels on the couch,
and the blow dryer was lying on the floor. He led me over to the
couch, and then untied the knot holding the bath towel around my
body, letting the towel fall to the floor. He took me in his
arms again, giving me a firm, loving hug and a deep kiss, while
ruffling the fur on my back; when the kiss ended, I slowly lay
down on the couch, stretched out on my stomach. Gary picked up
the dryer and started to blow dry me, directing the stream of hot
air through my fur. Normally, one wouldn't think of being blow
dried as a particularly erotic activity, but lying naked on a
couch while your roommate and lover not only dries you off but
runs his fingers through your fur can be a uniquely arousing
feeling. I sighed, and closed my eyes, enjoying this treatment
and the friendship behind it.
"OK, honeybunny, turn over now." I obeyed, rolling over
onto my back. As Gary continued the blow drying and massaging,
the erotic feelings became stronger as the warm airstream passed
over my still-sensitive nipples and muff...and I could _swear_
that Gary spent a little more time than necessary in those
places, although the expression on his face was perfectly inno-
cent all the while. Finally, though, I was dry all over again.
In a couple more months, when my winterfur came in, a brushing
would be the next step; but now, with my fur still short, it
settled back into place naturally as Gary stroked my fur "with
the grain" with his hands. I felt clean, relaxed, loved...and
somewhat sleepy. He lay down on the couch beside me, and we
snuggled together, not in the least concerned about my current
state of undress. I vaguely remember him turning on the TV, but
I don't remember now what was on...I fell asleep in his arms
almost as soon as we'd snuggled up comfortably. Next thing I
remember was Gary gently shaking me awake, telling me that dinner
was almost done.
I followed him into the kitchen, not remembering or particu-
larly caring that I was still in the fur, and poured myself a big
mug of coffee. I could smell dinner now. "Smells like you
made..." I sniffed again to make sure, then set down the coffee
and gave Gary a huge, delighted hug. "You did! It's a pizza,
isn't it!" He nodded, smiling, and my mouth watered at the
prospect. Anyone who wonders what's so special about a pizza has
never tried one of Gary's made-from-scratch pizzas; he makes them
deep-dish style, at least five centimeters thick, with six dif-
ferent cheeses, about a pound of pepperoni, sausage, bacon, green
peppers, onions, and a spicy sauce that he keeps a closely-guard-
ed secret. He even makes the dough himself, to a certain extent;
although he does use a store-bought mix, he still adds some
Parmesan cheese, poppy seed, and butter seasonings to the mix to
make a flavored crust. I hate to brag about his cooking, but I
can honestly say I've never met a person _yet_ who _hasn't_ liked
it. He says it comes from the fact that in his high-school years
his dad was often away on consulting jobs; either you learn to
cook, or you live out of McDonald's for weeks at a time. Person-
ally, I just think he has a talent for it. As he pulled the
bubbling pizza out of the oven, I couldn't wait to sink my teeth
into it. But we _had_ to wait for a few minutes; it has to cool
off some so the cheeses will solidify enough that the layered
toppings won't collapse in a gooey (but still delicious) mess.
The smell made me hungrier by the moment.
Finally, it was cooled off enough to eat, and we each took a
generous portion before returning to the living room to eat.
This is definitely a "fork" pizza...there's no way it could
support its own weight if you tried to pick up anything larger
than a bite-sized square of it. Gary rewound the tape in the
VCR, and we ate pizza and watched "TaleSpin" and "Tiny Toon
Adventures".
After we were done eating, Gary put our dishes in the sink,
wrapped the leftover pizza, and put it in the fridge. Then we
snuggled together again, still in front of the TV, watching
"Quantum Leap" (don't get the idea we spend lots of time watching
TV though; there's only about five shows we make it a point never
to miss. Those three, plus "Star Trek" and now that new "Flash"
series. Anything else...well, we _might_ watch it _if_ we're
_really_ bored...) After the credits rolled, we turned off the
set, and Gary turned on the stereo instead, putting one of my
favorite discs (Ray Lynch's "Deep Breakfast") in the player. I
debated getting dressed again, but before I could make up my mind
Gary had dimmed the lights and snuggled next to me again. A
pleasantly smoky, fruity odor was drifting though the room, and I
realized that somewhere along the way he had lit a stick of
incense which was now smoldering in its holder on top of the TV.
"Really going all out tonight, aren't you?" I said to him,
as I nestled closer, feeling his arms wrap around me. He looked
at me, and gave me a lick on the muzzle.
"No more than you deserve, honeybunny. I don't know what
happened at work today, but I think you need to be pampered a
bit, hm?" He hugged me close, and smiled. "Besides, what's
wrong with me liking to do nice things for you?"
"Nothing at all, _koramado_, nothing at all." The word is
from the little-used international language of Esperanto, and
means "a long-lasting love of the heart." I've forgotten now
where I read that, but it's an accurate enough description of our
relationship and feelings for one another, and through some quirk
of memory it was the first thing I thought of when we got to the
point of using "pet" names for each other. I wrapped my arms
around him, holding him close. I wasn't sure yet if he was in
the mood for lovemaking or just loving; either one would have
been fine with me, but for all I knew he might have had a tiring
day too and might just want to cuddle for a while. So I just
gave him a few gentle licks on his cheeks and nose. But that
didn't stop me from wanting, and hoping for, more...
He must have sensed my wants, or maybe it was just the
combination of our cozy position and the darkened, relaxed set-
ting he'd set up; for after a few minutes he started stroking my
fur in a more intimate way, bringing his hands closer to the more
sensitive area around my tail, while licking my muzzle and whisk-
ers. Slowly, I melted under his attentions, responding with my
own gentle licks and cuddles, and slipped a hand underneath his
shirt to caress his back, enjoying the unusual but not unpleasant
feel of a human's bare skin under my hand. Slowly, I started to
slip his shirt off his body; after a moment, he stopped stroking
me long enough to remove his shirt and lay it aside, and then we
cuddled back together again. The familiar scent and feel of a
warm human body pressed against me felt so good...and he always
tells me that the feel of my fur against his skin is pleasurable
to him too. I was getting aroused again, and as he pressed
closer to me I could feel the bulge in his jeans that indicated
he was getting turned on too. I slid one hand down to the front
of his jeans, and slowly unfastened the button and zipper; as I
started to work the waist of his jeans down his thighs, he re-
sponded with a more passionate kiss and more deliberate pleasur-
ing of my tail, making me wriggle against him in delight.
Slowly, I worked his jeans down as far as I could, and he
kicked them off the rest of the way, letting them fall to the
floor. His arousal was immediately obvious through the cotton
briefs he wore underneath, and I myself was feeling pretty
steamed up at this point. I hooked my fingers into the elastic
of his briefs and slid them down, a little more eagerly, sitting
up on the couch to pull his briefs completely off, then snuggling
back down again, enjoying the feel of our nude bodies pressing
together and especially the feel of his cock hardening against my
thigh. I ground my hips against his, sensuously; by this time,
of course, our mutual desire was quite obvious to both of us, and
without a word he pressed his lips against mine in a deep, pas-
sionate kiss. I parted my lips as I felt his tongue push against
them; his tongue slipped into my mouth, and mine into his, and
for a long time we lay there, our tongues entwining and searching
each other's mouths, making both of us more and more aroused. I
started massaging his back, and he reciprocated by sliding one
hand back up my front to massage my breasts. As I stiffened in
delight and surprise, he slowly broke the kiss and started plant-
ing small kisses down my throat and chest, heading towards my
breasts until finally I felt his tongue licking around and around
the surface of my left breast, until at last he took the nipple
in his mouth and started to suck on it gently.
I gasped, closed my eyes, and moaned softly, savoring the
pleasure of his tender suckling. Finally, though, I just
couldn't resist anymore; I slipped one hand around to his chest,
then slowly down his front, down to his crotch, where I started
brushing his hardened cock with the furry back side of my hand.
He gasped and gave me a startled look, but never let up on his
suckling; slowly, he transferred his attention to my other
breast, and started to thrust his hips slowly against mine. I
moved my other hand down his back until I was kneading his rump;
from experience, I know just what drives him crazy...and right
now I _wanted_ him crazy. But it was _me_ who was being driven
crazy; his unrelenting licking, nibbling, and suckling on my
breasts was making me warmer and wetter by the second.
Finally, Gary let up on my overstimulated breasts and worked
his way down, planting little kisses on my stomach on the way
down, until I felt his tongue tracing the outlines of my muff. I
squealed softly and pushed against him; he took this as a signal
for more, and slowly worked his tongue between the outer lips,
licking up and down my slit, making me pant softly. Suddenly, I
wanted him so badly I could barely stand it. I moaned louder,
spread my legs a little wider, and ran my hands up and down my
chest and stomach, relishing the pleasures rippling through my
body, wondering how much more I could stand before I went totally
crazy. "Ohhhh, Gary...don't stop, _koramado_, don't stop..." In
response, he moved his tongue up to my clit and delicately licked
all around the sensitive button. Almost unable to bear that
probing, merciless tonguing, I writhed on the couch, moaning,
until at last I shuddered in a sudden, intense climax. Gary sat
back, looking pleased with himself.
Half-crazy with sudden lust, I dove forward, taking Gary's
hardened maleness into my mouth and sucking furiously. "Jeez,
Kerja!" he cried, startled. After a moment, he relaxed again,
and started rubbing my shoulders. "You must want it pretty bad,
honeybunny." I nodded, still licking his penis up and down, just
as relentlessly as he'd tongued me a moment ago. Now it was his
turn to moan and pant under my treatment, as I licked the smooth
surface. Since he was already pretty excited at this point, it
wasn't very long before Gary's grip on my shoulders tightened and
I was rewarded by a stream of thick, salty fluid spurting into my
mouth and trickling down my throat. I swallowed his cream eager-
ly, until there was no more left; I released his cock with a few
final licks, then lay back, licking my lips. Slowly he lay down
with me, and we went back to kissing and licking each others'
cheeks. He'd come a little sooner that I would've liked, but he
generally does the first time, especially when I don't give him
the chance to hold back. I knew he'd last a lot longer the
second time around, as soon as we'd both recovered...
He recuperated sooner than I expected, too; almost before I
knew it, his still-hardened maleness was pushing against my wet
muff, slowly easing its way into me. I arched my back and
squealed softly as he entered me, spreading my legs wider and
bringing my knees up until my feet were flat on the bed, giving
him room and the proper angle for deeper penetration. But he
didn't plunge into me, like I wanted; instead, he slowed down his
initial thrust, sliding into me a centimeter at a time, until by
the time he was all the way inside and I felt his balls resting
against my outer lips I was shivering in anticipation. Then, he
slid back out again, still going slowly, then back in again.
Each thrust was a slow, centimeter-by-centimeter movement, giving
me just enough stimulation to make me crazy and yet denying me
the more intense action I wanted. I kept hoping he'd up the pace
soon, but he just kept driving me mad with unsatisfied lust with
that slow, deliberate thrusting, always keeping me just below the
boiling point but never letting me release the building orgasm
inside me. Gary's only of average size, about 15
centimeters...but when he starts doing this kind of thing to me,
he's a perfect example of the saying about the skill of the
operator being more important than the size of the tool.
Excruciating delight is the only way I can describe the
feelings; I was so desperate to climax that it was almost pain-
ful. I tried to bring myself off by reaching down to rub my
clit, but Gary held my arms down against my sides; when I tried
to increase the pace by thrusting my hips up against him, he held
me down. No matter what I tried, he countered it, denying me any
stimulation except what he was giving me himself. Finally, I
just couldn't stand the unbearable, torturing pleasure another
second. "Please, _koramado_," I whimpered, "_please_...please
let me..." Immediately he shifted from slow to fast, thrusting
in and out as rapidly as he could. The sudden change of rhythm
and the feel of his smooth cock plunging into me brought me to
climax instantly; I squealed so loudly I'm sure they must've
heard it in the next apartment, digging my claws into the couch
cushions. The constant slow thrusting must've been keeping him
near the edge too, because a few moments later, just as I was
coming down from my own climax, I felt a single violent thrust
and then his cock started to throb inside me, and a few seconds
later I could feel the warmth of his cream jetting into me as he
too cried out his ecstasy.
Afterwards, we lay side-by-side, cuddling, listening to the
music as the disc spun towards its end. After the final notes
played, Gary got up and turned off the stereo and lights, then
lay back onto the couch. We snuggled together, and drifted off
to sleep wrapped in each others' arms. It was hard to believe
that only a few hours ago I'd been frustrated and cranky; now,
lying nestled into the arms of my human friend and lover, I felt
warm and secure, and happy...
And it was only Friday night, too...
--
+++++++++++++ [email protected] ++++++++++++++
My wife, my best friend, I always thought a dog lover was
my box of milkbones. a dog that loved another dog.
- James Thurber
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