Rock Dog: On Cue
Darma, freshly-minted rock star, isn't sure what to get Bodi as a birthday gift.
Rock Dog: On Cue by Tempo
~ ~ ~
If she didn't look at all the tour posters, Darma could calm down about being in Angus Scattergood's living room. Lots of people had those posters around. No big deal. She was just hanging out with her old friend Germur and her new boyfriend Bodi as this scrawny white feline prowled around the kitchen. The sofas were pristine, as if nobody had ever used them. Considering all the traps and attack robots in the front yard, she wasn't surprised Angus didn't get many visitors. Afternoon light filtered through the high windows of the mansion to glint on the hanging orb light fixtures.
The fox interlaced her fingers and stretched her arms. "I keep thinking I have to go to work." She shrugged to her bandmates. "It's just been part of my life for so long."
Seated pertly upright on the sofa next to her, Bodi nodded, then turned to their bandmate. "Do you have a job, Germur?"
The goat's eyes widened. He sat up straight with a slow realization. "Uh oh. I think I do."
Darma ran a paw down her face. "Germie..."
The drummer glanced across the room to a clock. "Whoa... Dudes, I am really late."
"How late?" Holding a cup of tea, Angus snatched his keys from a peg in the kitchen. "I can give you a ride." He'd become far more willing to drive upon realizing that most of the city mistook his tour bus for a city bus and got out of his way.
Germur scratched his tiny beard. "Two or three years."
The older musician blew a raspberry. "Well, I have good news, mate: you probably don't have to worry about it." The skinny feline shrugged and twirled the keyring around his finger. "But since my keys are already out of my pocket, let's go downtown to this restaurant I've been meaning to go to for ages."
"Ages? Whoa." Germur stared into the distance, as if at previous incarnations of Angus Scattergood not going to the restaurant. "Today must be pretty special."
The Tibetan mastiff glanced at her. They exchanged small shrugs.
The white feline nodded and lashed his tail. "Yeah, it's a really fancy restaurant and I want to see what they make of you." He patted the goat on the back. "And see how the valet reacts when I hand off a double-decker bus."
The goat stood and ambled over to Angus. "Do they have truffle fries?"
"They could make fries out of a truffle, I wager." The feline turned and snapped his fingers at the couple. "You guys in?"
Darma's mind raced. Did she own anything fancy enough for a restaurant that even Angus considered fancy? Was it traditional or western? Did that change what she should wear? And then there was the matter of if her table manners were refined enough. Didn't fancy western restaurants have eight courses and twenty unique spoons and forks and it was a grave insult to use the wrong one? But she couldn't just reject a lunch invitation from Angus Scattergood. They were incredibly lucky to have him as a mentor. What if they alienated him?
The dog shrugged. "We just ate."
"Can't argue with that logic." Angus tossed and caught his keys, then started heading for the garage. "I'll let you know if it's any good. We can go next time."
"We'll all still know each other ages from now?" Germur followed, deep in thought. "Nice."
Bodi watched the goat and feline disappear into the garage, followed by the deep rumble of the tour bus starting. He turned and regarded Darma with doggish adoration. His big, goofy hand settled on her thigh. "What should we do now?"
Blushing a little at his unrelenting fondness, she shrugged. "I guess we can jam without them."
"Another hokey song?" He wagged with hope, tail whomping Angus's perfect sofa cushions.
She'd been wondering when he'd ask for another one. "Sure, I think I can manage that."
"Yes!" He bounced to his feet and fist-pumped.
Smiling, the vixen shook her head and led him back to the recording studio. As they strapped on their guitars, she glanced at the massive control board. The autumn-hued buttons and various knobs of a TR-808 sat, inscrutable. A little sigh escaped her. She wasn't actually sure how to set up the drum machine. Mouth a straight line of resignation, she tilted her head for a glance at the dog and lifted her eyebrows. "Alright Bodi, you're lucky this is another song I can hear in my dreams, so I can play it without a drum backing."
"Nice." One thick paw straightened his guitar strap.
Twiddling the tuning pegs, she double-checked she was in key. "Did I have you listen to 'Every Heartbeat' yet?"
"Maybe?" He blinked. "I've been listening to a lot of new music."
She nodded. Catching up on a lifetime's worth of music was a pretty good excuse for not knowing a song. Though, she supposed, it was everybody's excuse all their lives. "It's an Amy Grant song. Very cheerful."
Bodi pressed his mouth closed, trying to contain his excitement and avoid interrupting her. He wouldn't care if she screwed up, which ironically made it easier not to screw up.
Tapping a boot on the floor, she counted herself into a speedy beat. The bass part bounced along happily, flowing from her fingertips with barely a thought. She yowled her way through the opening vocals as best as a lone fox could.
Instantly catching on, the canine nodded to the beat.
The first verse scrolled through her mind like a piano roll, fingers working on muscle memory. Familiar words rang through an unfamiliar space. She tried not to think about singing in Angus Scattergood's private studio; that still made her nervous. Halfway through the verse, the bass pattern switched. She always liked this next part, even though it was harder to do. Her paw swung down the frets in a dramatic swoop.
At the upswing of notes, Bodi's ears popped up visibly under his hat. Wide-eyed he watched her and nodded in time. His hands settled onto his six-string, fingers ghosting her melody. He'd have it memorized for the next verse, if past performance was any indicator.
The vixen rocked from foot to foot, riling herself up for the chorus. The lyrics were sappy. Extremely so. Luckily, she'd become quite a sap since she started dating Bodi.
The mastiff's wagging didn't slow, no matter how thick the song's sap. His sleek tail smacked the first and third beats of every measure. He strummed harmony chords, learning the song in real time.
She felt a little shy making the gasp after the first chorus, but he'd heard her make far more scandalous sounds. Cheeks burning at the thought, she plowed out of the interlude.
Polite little cascades of notes ascended through the song as Bodi got comfortable. The gear in the studio sounded way richer than the little amps in their bedroom, the acoustics perfect, but his tongue poked out just a little as he concentrated, just like it did when they were up in the loft.
A silly detail to latch onto, the vixen admitted to herself, but couldn't help being put at ease by it. By the second verse, she got so swept up in the song that she forgot where she was. She was just hanging out with Bodi. Jamming, like they'd done countless times. She swaggered toward him, as if the bass weighed nothing. Even those reaches for the low notes felt like part of her silly little dance. She flicked her tail back and forth with more hip-waggle than was strictly necessary to keep time.
Good thing Bodi was a savant, because he spent half the verse watching her hips. Must not have taken up his entire brain, though, because he scattered a full pattern of counterpoints in with his harmonies this time.
Knowing the song by heart, she'd forgotten the alternate chorus had different lyrics until they left her mouth. She lifted her chin and made eye contact, their little signal for "I'll let you know when we're doing this again."
With shameless glee, Bodi plucked out a rhythm guitar part. If she hadn't sprung the song on him personally, she'd never have guessed he was improvising. His head tilted at the differing words. Lyrical switch-ups always made him straighten up in closer attention. It was adorable.
Energized by his interest, she threw her head back and laughed into another round of the main chorus. A little growl entered her voice as she sang with whisker-bouncing enthusiasm.
The bass notes for the bridge broke pattern and would've sounded stilted and random if not for the smooth coo of the vocals. As for the vocals, well, they came out a little flirtier than she expected, but it made Bodi grin. Her heart raced, even through the drawn-out notes during that weird mini-chorus.
As she lifted her muzzle again, her lover smiled and instantly started riffing on the alternate chorus. He locked eyes with her, playing without the need to watch either of their fingerings. With a carefree tenor, he joined in the vocals. His voice never crowded hers, though it urged her to ever more outlandish gusto, always in a supporting key.
Loosened up, Darma slid back into the main chorus. Confidence growled through her every note. Figuring he could handle it, she nodded to count him, singing all the while. It was all chorus from this point on. Little bounces carried her closer to him. Her boots kicked off the studio floor as she playfully showboated for him.
He leaned down toward her, until their noses dared to touch for the briefest moment. A tiny blue spark zapped between them, filling her with a giddy serenity. His guitar sailed into a few relatively safe riffs, working them around his chords. Once he realized he had the room to work, he shredded confident variations on the theme, each accompanied by his best rock-star facial expression, which looked entirely ridiculous and of course prompted her to do the same.
On the verge of cracking up, they rocked on. Chin down: main chorus. Chin up: alternate. Sometimes, she'd drop the vocals for an entire line, letting him swing in with a wail of lead guitar.
Counting down with synchronized nods, they howled through the final syllables of the lyrics together, then slammed into a final flourish to tie up the song. A blue wave of energy rolled outward from him, rippling all the cables off the floor for a second. They stood panting, abuzz with a shared energy.
He grinned and leaned in. His nose tapped hers.
Tail fluffed out, the vixen hummed with joy. She liked being Bodi's girlfriend. She stood with her nose to his, slow breath mingling with his as blue light swirled and faded around them.
A flicker of unexpected color caught her eye. Amid a constellation of lingering blue sparkles, paperclips and pads of sticky notes settled atop the control panel. Then she noticed light of a different color: the green keypad lights of the phone flashing. It was ringing on other side of the soundproof glass.
Wordless, she shrugged to him.
He shrugged back.
Opening the door broke the silence, allowing the faint sounds of the air conditioner, the plumbing, and the various electronics to return. In a state of deep serenity, Darma exited the recording booth and picked it up. "Hello?"
Angus's voice rattled through the reconstructed phone. "Darms. How's my house? Still there? Dog hasn't blown out the windows yet?"
Her gaze slipped to the soundproof glass, which showed no signs of cracking. On the other side, her bandmate plucked guitar strings without a sound and smiled at her. "Not yet."
"Outstanding. Say, I failed to mention: Ian had a question about your contracts. If you guys could call him back, that would be brilliant."
"What was the question?"
"Dunno. He called during a catnap, so I let the answerphone get it."
With a sense of universal peace, Darma nodded. "He should still be at the office. I'll call him."
"Lovely." His sunglasses clattered against the receiver. "Listen, I've gotta go. Goat Lad is teaching everybody how to eat French fries with chopsticks. Nigel! You still serve that eucalyptus dipping sauce?" The phone clicked, then disconnected.
Darma hung up and rubbed the scruff of her neck. She didn't know why it felt like an intrusion to have someone interrupt her and Bodi playing. That is, until her fox brain reminded her of the intimate ways she and the mastiff had learned to be so in sync.
She glanced to the cork board. Angus's agent's phone number was tacked up. She dialed it. It rang a few times, then picked up.
A curt voice registered on the other end. "Ian."
"Hi, it's Darma." Taking advantage of the cordless phone, she pulled off her bass and leaned it against the control panel.
"Hey, great." Papers ruffled on an unseen desk. "I'm having trouble reading what Bodi wrote on his contract. It's like he's never written with a ballpoint pen before."
"That's a possibility." She smiled at her boyfriend. "What's your question?"
Still on the silent side of the glass, he wagged back at her.
"On the line for his birth date, I can't tell if this is a three...or a ten."
She pulled the door open and poked her slender muzzle in. "Bodi, when is your birthday?"
"It's in a week?" He counted on his fingers. "Eight days."
A tiny spark of panic arose in Darma's serene universe. Eight days wasn't that long. Was she supposed to plan a party? Or maybe go on a date? What kind of restaurant do you take your boyfriend to on his birthday? Should she call in a reservation now? What gift was she going to get him? Would she even have time to find something good?
"Okay. Thanks, guys." The line clicked as he hung up.
She scampered back to the recording booth and popped her head instead. "Why didn't you tell me your birthday was coming up?"
He looked up studying the clicking mechanism in a ballpoint pen. "I dunno. Is it important? Is this one of those tax things?"
"No! Well, yes." With a swish of her tail, she leaned against the doorframe. "But I also need to know it because I'm dating you."
"Oh." The dog nodded, hat tassels flopping. "There's paperwork for that too?"
"No!" Her small laugh rang in the recording booth. "It's so I can get you a gift or something."
"You don't have to get me anything." His modest smile shone across the room and into her heart. "I have everything I want."
A flutter of joy raced through her, puffing her pelt out. "Are birthdays not a big deal in your family?"
Taking off his guitar, he shrugged. "My dad never made a big deal about them."
That sounded right. His dad seemed like the no-nonsense type. She'd never really spoken with him, but he intimidated her a little. Dating his son, though, probably meant she'd have to talk to him at some point. "What about the sheep?"
He set the guitar on a stand and itched his muzzle with blunt, black claws. "They don't spend a lot of time worrying about numbers. They just throw parties when they think it might be someone's birthday."
Not for the first time, Darma wondered if she'd be happier as a sheep or goat. Germur seemed pretty happy. But, as her hunky boyfriend put an arm around her and pulled her into a gentle hug, she remembered that even foxes could be happy.
~ ~ ~
In the loft, Darma lay face-down on Bodi's bed. Well, her bed too. Their bed. Where they slept together and cuddled and had super fun sex. Her nose picked up faint traces of his scent on the blankets. She pushed the thought from her mind and tried to pay attention to the ongoing phone conversation. Ear against the receiver, she paged through the newest issue of Rock Fancy magazine. It had a good picture of the band. She hadn't smiled in an awkward way or anything. "I just think it's cool my band's in a magazine."
An older vixen's voice rang through the line. "That's very cool, dear, but why does your boyfriend have to be half-naked?"
"They took a lot of photos." She bounced her toes on the bedspread, enjoying that her silky sheets fit on his bed. "As far as I know, only one had him without his shirt on. I don't know why they used it."
A light scoff translated through the phone speaker. "I'll tell you why they used it."
The bass player rolled her eyes. "Mother."
Her courtroom tone entered the conversation: "Are there shirtless photos of you?"
"Mother!" She laughed. "No!"
Ceramics clinked in the background as she prepared what was probably very strong green tea. "I don't know how I feel with you getting mixed up with this kind of people."
"What kind of people?" The younger fox rolled over on the bed and studied the ceiling. "Shirtless people?"
"Yes!" She yapped with disapproval. "If they don't wear shirts in public, who knows what else they might do?" Water poured into a container at the other end of the phone line. "Darma, dear, is he a bad boy?"
She rolled her eyes. "I cannot overstate how much of a good boy he is."
"Well, that's good." The phone buzzed softly as she huffed a breath over her tea cup. "I have been asking for a photo of him for weeks and I wasn't expecting it to be delivered to grocery stores. Or to be so scandalous."
Darma knew better than to give her thoughts on anything scandalous related to Bodi. "I was planning to fax you one, I promise. I just haven't had time to buy a camera and get film developed. We've been busy recording the album."
"Good." Mrs. Li's voice held a degree of approval, if still probationary. "How exactly did you two meet? Your father talks like the boy appeared out of nowhere."
The vixen rolled off the bed and padded to the ladder that led to the loft. "He walked up to me in the park and asked to join my band."
"And you let him?"
"No, I thought he was crazy." She peered down to check that Bodi wasn't in earshot. She could see his shadow from the light of the door, but he was clearly playing air guitar, so she figured it was safe to talk about him.
Her mother huffed. "I don't know if I want crazy, shirtless dogs dating my daughter."
The younger fox sighed. "Mom, please. I called you for an actual reason."
"Mm?"
She hopped over the phone cord and flopped down on the couch. "Well, his birthday is in a couple days and I still don't know what to get him."
"Well, what does he like?"
She pressed her nose to the arm of the sofa. The soft cushioning still smelled like her apartment. "Good food. Good music." Her mind wandered to good sex, which Bodi also enjoyed, but was difficult to wrap.
"So buy him an album."
"Angus has a pretty huge music collection, mother. I don't know if there's a point in buying him something we already have in the house."
"Maybe something fashionable. What does he wear? On the occasions he wears much at all."
Darma looked at the row of identical tunics hanging in the wardrobe. "A lot of blue shirts."
"There you go. Buy him a shirt. Clearly, he needs shirts."
"I think I can do better than that." From her place on the couch, she could watch Bodi dancing around, headphones on.
"I buy your father shirts."
The bassist sighed. "For a first gift ever, though?"
"Why not? He'll wear the shirt. He'll think about how you gave it to him. It's good."
On an idle impulse, she lifted a pillow with her bare hind paws and bounced it between them at a gradual pace, pondering. "I want to give him something that shows I know him."
"You know he wears shirts." Her mother tsked and drank a sip of tea. "Unlike anyone who flipped through the magazine."
"Something more personal." With vague, vulpine anxiety, she squished the soft pillow between her paws, bending her legs back until the fabric touched her tail.
"So, what else does he need?"
"Nothing. That's the problem." She kicked the pillow back against the headboard. "He isn't big on material possessions. And we're house guests at a mansion."
"What is everyone else getting him?"
"Angus made him a mix tape as part of his rock history cram school." She watched Bodi's butt as he pranced around the room. She liked how he wore pants that showed off that particular feature. "Pretty sure that's what he's listening to now. Germur got him a bag of his favorite potato chips."
"Excellent. Their terrible gifts will make yours look good."
"A mix tape made by a rock legend is a pretty cool gift." She watched the tiny reels of the Walkman spin at her boyfriend's hip. His hat, stuck in one pocket, swished in time with his tail.
"Not once you are friends with him." Her mother yapped. "I looked up how many albums he's sold in his life. He should be buying you limousines."
"What would I do with a limo?" She propped her head on the arm rest and crossed her ankles. "I wouldn't even know how to park it."
"You don't drive your own limousine. Unless you need to fool assassins." A slight pause marked her mother pursuing that line of thought. "You would tell me if someone was trying to assassinate you, wouldn't you dear? You're famous now."
Darma groaned. "I'm not that famous, but I promise."
"A mother worries about these things."
Tail twitching with impatience, she kicked her legs at empty air. "Could you help me worry about the birthday gift?"
"My point is that it doesn't matter what you get him, so long as it's something he can see and think fondly of you."
"Okay. I'll go shopping and see what I can find." She could catch the bus to the shopping district tomorrow morning. "Just so I don't end up buying him a shirt."
~ ~ ~
Darma ended up buying him a shirt. Well, a hoodie. So it wasn't technically a shirt. More of a jacket, really. You wore it over your clothes. Jacket.
Standing outside the garden shed, she took a few deep breaths to steady herself. She'd give him the gift, then say something suave and mature. "Sorry, I didn't put a bow on this, but maybe you could put a knot in me." That sort of thing. She blushed under her cheek ruffs at the thought.
All of the cool lines she'd rehearsed escaped her mind as she glimpsed the birthday boy in his birthday suit. The fit dog's body shone in the sunlight, muscles rippling under sleek fur. Like some art model, he stretched to pin a pair of underwear to a clothesline. The drying clothes hung between the strings of flags, light catching in drips of water here and there to highlight the magical scene of her naked boyfriend.
Her muzzle dropped open. Her eyes traced the intricacies of his pelt, glimpsed before in dimmer light. Her brain tried to process the fact that this handsome mastiff was her lover. She'd always wondered what it'd be like having a boyfriend, but always in an abstract way. Having him in front of her, bending over to grab wet laundry from a basket in bright beams of sunlight brought it into sharp relief.
Bodi bent to grab another garment. "Oh, hey Darma." Completely comfortable, he wagged at her, damp orange trousers in one paw. "I was doing my laundry."
"Y-yeah. I see that." She finished climbing into the loft. "You know Angus has a machine for that, right?"
He shrugged and grabbed another loose clothespin off the line. "I didn't want to make Ozzie do all of it."
"No, there is a special washing machine in his house." In what was coming to be second nature, her vulpine mind double-checked that statement for possible misinterpretations. She didn't need him putting dirty dishes in it. "For clothes. Don't put anything else in it."
"Right." He looked around the almost-done laundry. "Could you show me how to use it sometime? My clothes are all clean now."
In the midst of some very dirty thoughts, she stood stiff and looked him over with a vague sense of the forbidden. He was her boyfriend. It was okay for her to see him naked. Clearly, he didn't think this was a big deal. But she'd never had a guy stand before her naked before. It was wild. And great. Having a boyfriend was turning out pretty sweet.
"What's in that bag?"
Entirely without her permission, her legs shifted to rub her thighs together. Her tail flicked under her skirt. "Hm?"
He pointed at the red paper bag in her paw.
"Oh!" She remembered the entire reason she'd been running around downtown. "So, um, happy birthday." She extended the bag toward him with a nervous chuckle.
He took the gift bag with a smile and pulled out the garment. "Oh, it's a shirt!"
Darma winced. "It's a hoodie."
"Nice!" Still quite naked, he held the article of clothing up for study in the light. "They must be pretty good, since you wear them so often."
"They're really comfy." She shifted uncomfortably. "You can try it on, if you want." Here she was, telling her sexy, naked boyfriend to put on clothes.
He pulled on the hoodie. The hem fell just above the curve of his butt, so the addition only made his lack of pants more obvious. Spinning on a heel, he showed it off to her. "Hey, it fits really well."
"You seem to like two-tone blue, so I found one with that."
"That's super considerate of you, Darma." He swept her up into a giant hug, pressing his naked chest and crotch to her. "Thanks!"
Her tail poofed out like a bottle brush. She hugged him back. "Y-you're welcome."
Still wagging, he set her down. "Zipper, huh?" His large hands fumbled at the closure. The motion drew her eyes to his sheath and sack, covered in supple fur and begging to be touched. "I still haven't really figured these out..." He looked up to her with a sweet little shrug.
"Oh, umm, here." She reached over to help him. "It's got one of those zippers with a backing, so you won't get fur stuck in it." Her fingers managed to get the fastener engaged while only touching the tip of his sheath a couple times. Her passage clenched, already a little slippery. "There."
"Cool." Pantsless, he pranced around the loft. He grabbed his hat off a peg and pulled it on, then faced her with his arms extended to either side.
Blushing, the vixen chuckled. Her mind alternated between trying not to ogle him and remembering that's what he wanted. "Looking good."
He noticed and lifted the drawstrings. "Are these to hold my hat on?" He made vague tying gestures at the tassels of his hat.
"They're to tighten the hood. And to let your girlfriend do this." She took the ends of the drawstrings and gently reeled him in until he was right next to her.
"Wow, that's a pretty good feature." His strong hands stroked her back.
"Mmmhmm..." She giggled against his chest. After a moment, she sighed. "I'm glad you like it. I tried to think of something super romantic, but I've never had to buy anything romantic in my life." She nuzzled against the soft fabric of his hoodie, feeling secure enough to share secrets. "I felt like I was a bad girlfriend because I didn't get you a really cool gift."
His muzzle titled down at her, then cocked sideways. "I like that you gave it to me." He gave her a little squeeze, which drew her against him again. "That's cool."
Darma stood on her tiptoes to give him a little kiss on the lips. Once she got back to her normal level, her hand brushed something warm, wet, and hard. A glance down showed he was poking out of his sheath: a poke of red against the sea of silky tan. "Are you sure there's nothing else you want?"
He rubbed his scruff. "I want to have sex with you, but I always want that."
Her fingers toyed with his zipper as she looked him up and down. "Were you naked just so I could find you naked?"
"You said you like how I look without pants." The dog blinked with delight. "And you don't wear anything under your skirt when you want sex."
She blushed, fluffed-out tail curling around her legs. "Figured out my master plan, huh?"
He nuzzled her. The nuzzles soon turned to soft, little kisses. One paw slipped down to the small of her back. "Paying attention to you turns out pretty cool."
The fox giggled. A big, sweet dog paying attention to her felt pretty cool alright. That same dog kissing her also felt pretty hot. Her tail bounced under her skirt. Her heart raced. Her hands traced along his broad chest.
Bodi drew her into an embrace, his body fitting just right against hers. His breath stirred the fur of her throat. His hands cupped her rump and pulled her closer until her legs straddled his thigh.
The fox whined with arousal as the fabric of her panties pressed against her already-slick lips. Happy ears dropped. Pretty cool.
One hand slid down her skirt to her bare knee, caressing just under the garment. His sheath, plump and hot, throbbed against green plaid fabric. The red tip throbbed free of its confines, bumping against her skirt. As it came away, a tiny string of precum glimmered in the sunlight.
Heartbeat pulsing a quickening bassline to her passion, Darma let herself get lost in his gentle touch, his subtle scent, his insistent erection. Her hips shifted to grant his hand easier access.
The mastiff leaned her back against a wall for leverage. His thick fingers traced tender circles along the front of her panties. Lower and lower, until he bumped her clit with a feather touch. The caress continued down until it found the wet cleft of her entrance. A soft growl of interest accompanied his strokes there, rubbing the thin fabric fully into her juices, until at last he pulled them to one side. His paw pads then traced over her naked slit.
Darma squirmed with anticipation. A glance down revealed his crotch lining up with hers. She was getting to be more of a fan of pantsless Bodi all the time. When a thick finger tugged on the waistband of her panties, she waggled her hips to help him pull them off. The garment dropped to the floor in near silence, the first item for the next batch of laundry.
The canine lifted her without apparent effort. His dick emerged one pulse at a time to thicken along her bared slit. He reached down and angled it against her entrance. With a pant of pleasure, he rubbed the tip through her arousal, deep red and hot to the touch.
A small gasp escaped her lips. She reached down and spread herself to allow him in. Her teeth dragged along her bottom lip as she watched him sink in. "Mmmmmmf..."
"Yeah..." The broad-shouldered mastiff shuffled forward as he pressed in one lovely inch at a time. That hard dog cock spread her in lovely ways. Finding her accommodatingly wet, he penetrated her in a single slow motion, accompanied by cute little wags. As she watched, his sheath reached her labia, bunching up to allow just that much more length into her. "Mmm!"
"Hah..." Looking down, she saw only slippery lust. Looking up, she found only love. Aflutter under his affections, she wrapped her legs around his hips. Bumping his muzzle with hers, she gave him a needful whine.
He obliged. Slowly at first, he started working in and out of her. Back and forth. Gentle at first, but becoming more insistent. Those powerful hips rolled against hers, rocking her world.
Soon her every breath caught short on the apex of a thrust. She watched as the deep red of his dick pressed into her creamy crotch fur. Squeezing on him, she tried to clench her muscles each time he pulled back, then relaxing to let him sink into her folds with ease.
His balls swung to bump the base of her butt. Vigorous thrusts bounced her against the wall. Drips fell from the hanging clothes with each impact. The vulpine watched, hypnotized. All the while, that thick cock pumped deep into her.
Muzzle tucked against his shoulder, Darma yipped for more. Her hands gripped the soft fabric of his hoodie. Her feet rubbed on his bare rump as it flexed. Her tail flicked between his knees. The skirt rode up to her stomach to reveal the combined juices soaking into her pristine white crotch fur.
Bodi thrust into her, the drawstrings of his new hoodie and her well-worn one swinging between them, the wild metronome of their lovemaking. Effort grit his teeth as he pounded her against the wall in the summer sunshine.
The world started to go hazy. She crossed her ankles over his tail, allowing her to lean back just a little. Reaching down, she rubbed her clit down onto his thrusting cock. Here and there, his knot bumped her knuckles. The slight variation he added to her motions didn't distract. Rather, like when they jammed together, it added to the fun, since he was just as into her as she was into him. And he was pretty deep into her, by the feel of it.
The mastiff grunted as he bounced her on his hips. Every fervent breath spoke of how he wanted her. Through even his most vigorous thrusts, he remained careful to keep his hand between the back of her head and the wall. His ears swayed as he worked his swelling knot against her. It pressed into her a little each time, eager to fill her fuller than she'd ever been, to get stuck inside her, getting them stuck together in a lewd and primal intimacy.
Darma shuddered into a long, deep orgasm. Leaning her weight fully against the wall, she let instinct take over, hips bucking on her boyfriend's dick. Her toes curled. Her fingers worked on her bump all the while, stretching out time as she lingered in this exquisite moment.
The larger canid supported her with one paw, gripping tight. His body moved with singular determination. Every inch of him moved to please her, especially the inches inside her.
Catching her breath, Darma let out a long moan. She rubbed her heels together above his tail, savoring how sensitive orgasm made her and how the littlest shift made his dick rub somewhere else wonderful inside her. "That--" A thrust and its accompanying burst of ecstasy scrambled that sentence in her mind. She had to piece it back together with him rocking in and out of her sensitive folds. "That's --mmf!-- so good." Her paw pads traced over his thrusting form, over new fabric and familiar fur. "Keep going. Mmm! Please..." Shameless, she squeezed down onto him for emphasis. "You feel so good in me..."
A sharp groan signaled him picking up the pace. The clotheslines swayed from air currents and the impact of enthusiastic humps against the wall they connected to. The scent of sex filled the air. His breath breezed hot against her neck.
She gripped his flanks. "You going to tie me, Bodi?"
"Hmf!" He thrust harder, bucking that bulge against her.
Ears back, she rolled her hips, trying to give him a better angle to bury that knot in her. "I want it..."
"Hnnnhhg!" The dog hunched against her. The motion jostled his hat off, which tumbled to the floor. Maybe he should have tied it on with the hoodie drawstrings after all. A sudden heat bloomed inside her, adding a new layer of slickness to his efforts. A moment later, he clutched her close and shuddered with a stifled howl. The thick bulge of his knot throbbed, tight against her sensitive entrance.
Legs wrapped around his waist, she strained to press that bulge inside, but only ended up groaning with discomfort as it proved just a little too big. Another try got the same result. A third drew a soft yip from her as she tried to stretch too far.
Bodi's ears twitched and his gentle brown eyes flicked up to hers. He eased off from pressing any deeper, but kept up the speed of his thrusts. Though they wouldn't be tying today, his dick working in and out of her orgasm-sensitive passage made up for it.
Dizzy with bliss, she stroked his back. Everything felt so wonderful, especially how she'd brought the dog she loved to orgasm inside her. Way cool. Drip after drip of his seed and her slickness dripped onto her tail, weighing down the fur, pervading it with warmth.
For a delicate eternity, the mastiff tensed around her, his length twitching now and then inside her. Between them, a slow trickle of semen trailed from inside her, around the curve of his knot, along his bunched up sheath, before seeping through the fur of his sack to patter on the floorboards; just one more drawn-out drumbeat among all the rest from the wet laundry. All the while, he held his hips against hers, keeping his cock inside her as it softened over long moments of afterglow.
Pinned and dripping among the pinned and dripping clothes, Darma glanced up from the bulge pressed to her messy slit to give Bodi a shy huff. "Sorry you didn't get your knot in."
He panted in confusion, then gave a weary chuckle. "Don't worry about it. You felt good, right?"
She shivered at the thought. "Oh yeah."
"So did I." Leaning them both against the wall, he touched his nose to hers. "That's way more important."
A giddy rush swept through her. "Not a bad birthday, then?"
"Really good." Wagging, he nuzzled into her neck and kissed along her jaw. "And a really good girlfriend."
A high, happy noise escaped the fox. Her tail swayed above the floor. She kissed his cheek. Buoyed by bliss and held up by a loving boyfriend, she felt on top of the world.
~ ~ ~
Another track laid down for my Rock Dog fanfic album!
Amy Grant - "Every Heartbeat" https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=BJ3r54ODYKg
Music consultant: Tonya Edits: Oyqy, SillyNekoRobin, Slate, CarlMinez, Eljot001, Oyqy, KohakuNightfang, Kalahari Art: letodoesart
These stories take a lot of research and multiple drafts to write. If you'd like to help me do more of them, consider supporting my Patreon. http://patreon.com/tempo
~ Tempo