FSE

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I'm sorry. I have to go.

Brooke took the last of the gift money. She asked for it in cash, tens and twenties, and closed out the account. It came out to less than two thousand dollars. With his gifts, she'd been paying her rent and her bills and eating well. She thought he loved her. When she asked him if he did, he admitted that he didn't. It stung. She respected the honesty. Her text was the last thing she sent him before she left.

It was late. Early, she supposed, since it was three in the morning, but Brooke saw anything before the sun came up as nighttime. Her fur-lined coat kept her warm in the cold winter air. Another gift from Desmond, one she was loathe to forfeit.

The further the Doberman walked, the more she regretted her idea to cut and run. Could've been miserable at home, her inner voice said - the voice of a haggard old mistress telling her girls how it was. You coulda stayed in bed, got fatter than you already are, and found another guy. Instead ya get caught up on one little southern businessman and when he tells you he just loves your big ass, you leave! He was providing for you!

Brooke walked against the sparse traffic. She remembered reading that somewhere, always walk against the traffic so you can see it coming. Thumbing a ride hadn't occurred to her. She had also read that hitchhiking lead to pretty girls being dismembered.

It was half past four when Brooke began to realize the gravity of her mistake. Leaving her phone in her home because she didn't want to risk replying to his text had been a stupid and immature idea for sure. Her inner mistress admonished her big-time for that, told her she was acting like a lovesick teenager. Brooke, who hadn't been so much as kissed until she was seventeen, didn't argue with the assessment.

Come five AM, Brooke was getting cold and thought of thumbing it. Thought again of tales of disappearing hitchhikers and the gory movies Desmond loved to watch. She thought he liked to watch them because she was afraid of them and she'd cuddle up close-

Stop pining over him, girl! You need to get somewhere warm and safe.

The Doberman kept walking. The first moody hues of dawn began to break on the cloudy horizon, sun struggling to pierce clouds fat with snow. She looked ahead, squinted, saw lights in the distance.

Dusty's Last Stop was a truck stop like any other. Brooke had never been to one. It sported rows of diesel pumps, pay vacuum cleaners, a two-floor motel and a greasy spoon restaurant. Brooke picked the greasy spoon.

Inside of the grubby but warm building, the pretty Doberman was instantly the center of attention, albeit quietly. Truck drivers looked up from coffee and platters of bacon and eggs to study the girl.

Behind the counter, an alligator with a deeply scarred snout said, "No lot lizards, get the fuck out."

Brooke's ears splayed back. Aghast, she said, "I'm not a-, a what?"

The alligator studied her, huffed. "That coat. You looked like a-, never mind. You lost, girl?"

"Kind of," Brooke admitted.

His face seemed to soften ever so slightly. "You hungry?"

"Yes, sir."

He pointed at a booth. "Sit down."

Brooke sat and waited. The tiredness began to hit her. Walking for hours took more effort than she realized and her paunch had only grown since she'd begun seeing Desmond.

She began to doze off but woke up when a plate was firmly set on the table. Bacon and eggs specked with black grease had never looked quite so good. She dug in with a fork covered in water spots.

"You need to call someone, kid? Your, uh, your daddy or something?" the alligator asked, uncomfortably. "You have a fight with your boyfriend?"

Brooke dabbed her lips with a napkin. "He wasn't my boyfriend," she murmured. "It was news to me."

"Huh," the gator mumbled. "Well, look, kid. Sorry about the whole lot lizard thing. We got a problem with those types."

He sauntered off before Brooke could say anything. She didn't have anything to say anyway. Her mind was back on Desmond.

The girl finished the food and drank the glass of water provided with it. She thought of asking the alligator if she could use the phone, not to call Desmond but to phone a friend from the escort agency, see if she could come out and lend a hand. Instead she sat just a bit longer, tiredly watching the snow begin to fall. A black, beat-up semi truck pulled in hauling a shiny tanker trailer.

Ryan Huffman pushed his way through the greasy spoon's door as if he owned the place. "Gimme bacon and eggs and keep the coffee comin," he demanded, but with a smile on his face. He was tall, a black wolf, pudgy and gray in the face. He walked over near Brooke, glanced at her, and started to take another table. If she hadn't made eye contact, he wouldn't have given her a second thought, but she did.

The wolf touched on the chair opposite Brooke. "Hey, kid. I hate sitting alone. You mind?"

"Oh. No. Go ahead," the Doberman said, pulling the halves of her coat tighter together. As he sat, she said, "My name's Brooke."

"Ryan Huffman," said the wolf, offering a paw. Brooke squeezed it. His fingers were tough and calloused, so unlike the soft southern businessman paws she was used to. "You don't look like a very good fit for this place, kiddo."

"It's where I ended up," Brooke said, shrugging. "I-, um, my boyfriend-, well, he wasn't my boyfriend..."

"Ah, boy troubles." Ryan winked. "Say no more, sugar." He reached across the table, around her dirty plate. She looked at his fingers before carefully laying her paws in his. He squeezed them gently. "I hate seeing a kid in trouble. You all right?"

The Doberman giggled. It was her first moment of levity since before Desmond told the truth. "Why do you keep calling me a kid?" she asked, shaking her head. "I'm twenty-two."

"I'm fifty." Ryan winked a big orange eye at her. "That makes you a kid to me, kid."

"Oh, you're o-o-old." Brooke giggled again. "Okay, Mr. Ryan. Well. I-, um, I guess I'd like if you could maybe drive me home?"

A waitress, an unenthusiastic sparrow in a pink apron, came with Ryan's breakfast and coffee. She took Brooke's dirty dishes and left without a word.

"Depends on where home is," Ryan said. He began to ravenously eat, but stopped to offer Brooke a strip of bacon. She took it graciously. "I'm heading north first. Big tank of oil, gotta be there by noon and I'm already runnin' short, but god damn, was I hungry."

"I live south of here," Brooke murmured.

"Well, kid," Ryan offered her a bite of egg off his fork now and she took it, "after I drop that oil off, catch some Zs and maybe have some lunch, I can run ya back home." He finished off his eggs, most of the bacon too, and simply chugged the coffee which by then was room temperature. "No funny business, no dismemberment, just a free ride 'cause you seem like a nice girl down on her luck."

It was something in Ryan's eyes, maybe it was his charm, but Brooke liked him. She reached out and touched his burly arm. She sniffed, said, "Okay. Thank you, Ryan."

"All right. You ready to go then, kid? Got a lot of ground to cover." Ryan stood up and dropped a well-worn twenty on the table.

Brooke glanced at the money, thought about her free food, and dropped a crisp ten on Ryan's twenty. "Let's go, yeah."

Ryan went to the bathroom - "This shitty coffee always runs right through me," he said - and met up with Brooke again.

As they walked to his truck and the snow fell fine and powdery, Brooke asked him, "Aren't you cold?"

"Little bit," Ryan chuckled. "But the cold's good! Wakes you up, makes your nipples hard and your pecker shrink."

The girl laughed. "You're weird."

Ryan opened up the driver side door and beckoned Brooke. "Passenger door's bein' finicky. Works for me, though, they can't escape as easy."

"Funny," Brooke dryly said. With Ryan's help she climbed into the truck, then scooted over the partition and the shifter. As she settled into the passenger seat, gingerly sinking her feet into the sea of crumpled fast food bags, Ryan climbed in and shut the door.

"Was it running this whole time?" Brooke asked, putting her paws up to the heater vents.

"Yeah, with an old truck like this it just makes more sense than lettin' it cool off for twenty minutes. Seat belt, kid." He and Brooke fastened at the same time. As he pulled slowly out of the lot and onto the road, Brooke leaned back in her seat and watched the snow fall. Her eyes closed.

Brooke came to less than an hour later. She woke with a snort, flinching, pawing at the door.

"Chill, kid, you're okay," came Ryan's fatherly voice. He did not look at her. "You were sleeping pretty good, seemed like you were tired. I was just letting you snooze."

"Mm, thanks," Brooke said sheepishly. She found herself warm, nearly sweaty, and squirmed out of her coat. Wearing only her t-shirt, she was comfortable in the heated cab. "So, you drive all day?"

"Nearly," Ryan said.

The dog watched the countryside go by. She liked it from behind a truck window; walking by it was not as fun. "Do you, uh-, do you do anything for fun? Do you have a home?"

"I got a little place in Nevada. Just a single-wide. Just to have my mail sent to, basically. Never slept there more than a single night." He glanced at her and smiled. "Truck's pretty comfortable, y'know."

"What do you do, though? Like when you're not working," the dog pressed.

He shrugged. "Oh, the usual things. Drink. Fuck. Play poker. Sometimes I play drunk strip poker."

Brooke tittered. "You're funny."

"Only funny-looking," Ryan sighed. "So talk to me, kid, what's the problem? What's a beautiful girl with a nice fur coat doing in some shitty truck stop, looking like God just dunked His nuts in her soup?"

Brooke sighed. She explained it all. The first date, how Desmond took her virginity, the way he bought her lavish gifts and gave her money and treated her to fantastic orgasms. How he told her he didn't love her. She began to cry towards the end. Ryan pointed out tissues in the glove compartment and she took a couple.

"Sounds like you got your heart broken, sugar. Happens to the best of us."

"It just always seems as if guys want sex and nothing else. Oh, you have a nice ass. Your boobs look so good. Those pants must be a mirror, I can see myself in them." Ryan held back a snort. "It's just... it's so... I hate it. I can see why some people just stay chaste."

"Aw, kid," Ryan tutted. He reached over, rubbed her leg. "You're a sweet girl, Brooke, you're gonna meet a nice guy."

Brooke sighed. She leaned back, thought about her prospects. Then she looked at Ryan and his handsome profile. His age, his charm, it all made her like him more than she was sure she should have. She unbuckled her seat belt and leaned across the partition. Before Ryan could react, she kissed his cheek.

"Kid," Ryan said softly.

"Call me Brooke," she whispered. The dog tried to kiss him again but was nudged back. "Ryan, please," she whined.

"Kid-, Brooke," Ryan chuckled, sounding sad to her, "honey, no."

The dog retook her seat, fastened her seat belt again. She looked like a scolded child. "I know I'm younger than you. But-, Ryan, you're so-, you're nice. You're not like the other guys."

He sighed. "There's a damn good reason for that, Brooke."

"I know. I know, you must think this is a rebound thing."

"Well, yes," Ryan agreed.

"But it's not only that! You're so sweet and-, and handsome."

"Brooke, sugar, I'm batting for the same team."

The dog blinked. "What?"

"I'm queer, kid. I like men. I suck dick."

"Oh-, oh my god," Brooke moaned, burying her face in her paws. Suddenly her cheeks were hot. "Oh my god."

Well that just about does it, huh? First you pick some guy who ain't got a heart in the first place, then you go picking some gay grandpa. You're a mess, Brooke.

"Ryan, I am so-, gawd, I'm so sorry!"

Ryan chuckled. "Oh, kid, come on... it's flattering, don't get me wrong. And it ain't like I'm allergic to pussy, I just don't go for it. You're a fine girl. Hey," he patted her knee chummily, "if I did swing like that, kid, I'd be bangin' you like a screen door."

The Doberman managed to laugh despite her humiliation. "You're just trying-."

"Nuh-uh, not just trying to make you feel better. I'd be fucking you so hard, your tits would fall off. You'd be walking funny for days, kid."

She laughed, almost shrieking. "Oh, stop! Gawd!"

"I'd fuck you so hard, seismologists in Japan would think Godzilla's coming. What do you think, is that one too much of a stretch?"

"You're a dork," Brooke cried, smacking his arm. She howled with laughter. "You're such a dork!"

"At least you're smiling again, kiddo," the wolf said. "But yeah, sorry to bust that daddy-lovin' bubble of yours, but unless you're secretly some trap-looking boy, this ain't gonna work."

Brooke sighed. She wiped at her eyes with one of the tissues, having laughed so much she cried again. "I can't blame myself for trying, I guess. You're so handsome."

Ryan chuckled. "Hey. I do appreciate that, Brooke. Just... ain't my thing."

They made the delivery with only half an hour to spare. Brooke waited in the truck while Ryan bullshitted with the foreman at the refinery. He climbed back in with a dusting of snow on his fur and a check in his fingers.

"Daddy's rich now," he said, winking. "You hungry? Wanna go somewhere fancy? McDonald's?"

"So fancy," Brooke giggled. "I could eat, yes."

The wolf took her to McDonald's. He left her in the truck in the parking lot. He came back with a bag full of hamburgers and fries and a pair of drinks in a cardboard tray.

"And now," the wolf yawned, as Brooke began to eat some fries, "gonna find me a place to crash. Then I'll run you home, kid."

"I've never been out here before," Brooke mentioned between bites. "But I'm sure there's some motels around."

"I was just gonna pull into a lot somewhere and sleep in the back," the wolf said. "I guess that ain't so comfortable for you, is it?"

Brooke watched the small town go by. Even a dying industrial town looked pretty under fresh snow. "I don't want to be a burden."

"It's all right, kid. Do my old bones some good to sleep on a real bed for once, anyway." He ended up picking the first motel he saw. It promised cheap rates and free Wi-Fi on a letter board outside.

Ryan grabbed his wallet and the drinks. Brooke slipped on her coat and grabbed the sack of food. They went in together, the Doberman feeling like she was back with her dad again. Ryan was tall and confident, entirely nonthreatening and funny as hell. She supposed she had begun to love him. She had a problem with loving easily.

"Your room is 207. Second floor, sir. Have a good," the doe behind the desk smiled wryly at Brooke, "rest, Mr. Huffman."

"Hey," Ryan said, "this girl's my fucking niece. We're gonna go up to the room, smoke a big bag of weed and then chow down on some McDonald's, ya got a problem with that?"

The deer's eyes widened. She backed up slightly. "No, sir, Mr. Huffman, I'm-," she looked at Brooke with fear in her eyes, "sorry, miss. Sorry."

Ryan huffed and nodded curtly. "C'mon, kid."

Brooke said as they went up the stairs and out of earshot, "Jeez, Ryan, you really tore her a new one."

"I was trying to be funny at first," he admitted, "but it kinda pissed me off. You ain't some slut I'm here to bang. Screw her for thinking that."

In the small, but clean and cozy motel room, Brooke hung up her coat and set down the food on the coffee table. She fell back on the bed with a sigh. "What a stupid day this has been."

"Tell me about it," Ryan chuckled. He started to tear into a hamburger and some soggy fries. "Hey, you comfy in here? You wanna turn the heat up?"

"I'm fine. Thank you." She rolled onto her side, watched Ryan eat. "So... you're gay?"

"What, the mouthful of filthy meat didn't clue you in?" said the wolf, smiling.

She giggled. "Hey, that part about smoking weed, do you actually-?"

"Not in a long time. I mean, I don't get piss tested, but it just ain't my thing. I get off on a cold beer." He finished his burger, pulled out another, offered it to Brooke. She nodded and he tossed it her way.

They dug in simultaneously. "Mm, sometimes this cheap stuff is so good," she moaned. "Desmond always-, oh, god. Sorry."

"S'all right, kid, you get preoccupied when you love someone."

Brooke eyed him. "Were you ever in love, Ryan?"

The wolf smiled wistfully, the past rolling in. He picked up his burger on the wrapper and sat beside her on the bed. "Yeah. I was. I guess I still am. Her name's Zaylin."

The Doberman grinned. "Her?"

"Yeah, her. What, you ain't gotta fuck someone to love 'em." He grinned back and nudged her with his elbow. He thought of saying you sure know about fucking without love but dismissed it quickly. He hated cruel thoughts. They came with the wit.

Brooke sidled up to him, leaned on him. He smelled a bit of body odor and musk but she didn't mind. She supposed being a dog, even a well-bred specimen such as herself, made her a bit of a scent freak. "What's she like? What kinda girl does Ryan Huffman fall for?"

"Well, she's-," he chuckled, took a bite, thoughtfully chewed it. "Zay's really bossy. Bitchy. Kind of a cunt if I'm being honest. Not with me, though. With me, she's always warm. Sweet. Always kissing and cuddling, telling me she wishes I'd come stay for good." He slid an arm around Brooke. "Biker chick. Pudgy. Kinda like you. Big, fat ass, and-, well, never mind."

The Doberman began to giggle. "Oh my god. You're actually attracted to her, aren't you?"

"A little, okay? It's about personality, I guess. I love younger men, but Zay just pushes my buttons. We only fucked-, we made love once. Both of us were shitfaced but it kinda meant something. We did a few things after that... little things. More like favors for each other. Never-, never penetrative stuff, I guess you'd say. Never again. Pussy doesn't do it for me."

Brooke leaned into Ryan even more. She finished off her food, crumpled the wrapper and tossed it onto the table. "You sound like you're pansexual. It's where you're attracted only if you like their personality."

"Pan-what?" Ryan snickered. "I have a lot of meaningless sex with guys, sugar. If assholes were fertile wombs, I'd have hundreds of little Ryans running around the country."

"Maybe not, then," Brooke muttered. She wrapped her arms around Ryan, sighed. "You're so warm and cuddly."

The wolf squeezed Brooke in his arm, finished his food too, and tossed away the wrapper. "You're not gonna be happy unless you get my clothes off, are you?"

Brooke snuggled and squeezed Ryan. She nuzzled his flank, unmindful of his armpit. "You're a special guy. I'd just never forgive myself if I didn't try. And you did kinda tell me you're not completely averse to sex with girls."

"Shoulda known you'd weaponize it, you little minx," Ryan growled, then he chuckled. "You know what, all right. All right."

"You're gonna-?" Brooke swallowed. Her ears perked. "With me?"

He nudged Brooke back and peeled his shirt up and off, baring a chubby, graying body. "Yeah, I'm gonna."

"You don't-, you know you don't have to," the girl said quickly.

"I wanna. You're a nice girl. Nice big ass. I can get behind that, pun intended." He kicked off his boots and said, "Now I never take my boots off when I get laid, so you better understand how special that makes you."

Brooke giggled. She tugged her own shirt up and off, started to unclasp her bra and paused. "Um, do you want me to leave this on?"

"If I'm gonna be a filthy breeder, I might as well get the full enchilada. You let those titties flop."

"Oh, god," Brooke tittered. She undid the clasp on her bra and let her thick breasts bounce free. Plump but perky, they caught Ryan's eye.

"Mm, I think as far as jugs go, you're pretty stacked, kid." He leaned in, hesitated, smiled. "Uh, so. When I fuck guys, I go for the nipples anyway. You cool with that?"

"Do anything you want to me," Brooke said, hoping she didn't sound too whorish.

"Anything? Too bad I left my BDSM gear in the truck," Ryan sighed. They laughed together as the wolf laid over her.

She brushed his hat off of his head, ran her fingers through his greasy hair. They kissed, his old, dry lips meeting hers - young and sticky. His tongue was thick and wonderful and she imagined it on her pussy like Desmond used to do. She forced him out of her mind; Desmond was old hat, Ryan was new and special.

The wolf's paw cupped her breast. She reached down, touched his groin, felt over it through his jeans. She realized with wonder that his penis was tremendous - and still only flaccid. Pulling out of the kiss, huffing sweetly, she said, "Oh my god, is that you I'm feeling?"

"I'm pretty big, kid," Ryan told her. "I'm not gonna put it inside you. You gotta know that right now."

"No, no, I-, I understand. I get it." She kissed his cheek. "But I want to see it. Can I make you cum?"

"You're welcome to try, honey. Just don't get mad if, you know, you can't pull it off."

Brooke nodded. She loved Ryan now. She loved everything about him. She could never be mad. "Show me," she whispered. "Let me see it. I want to taste you."

"I wanna taste you too," he growled. He got up on his knees, fell back on his ass, opened his fly and pulled off his jeans.

Brooke sat up and watched him pull down his boxer shorts. Her eyes were waiting for his cock and latched onto it when it appeared. "Oh, wow," she breathed. "Desmond was so small..."

"It's nine inches hard," Ryan said, a hint of pride entering his voice. "My little-big secret. Nobody ever expects a tubby truck driver to be packing."

The Doberman moved to her paws and knees, her butt high in the air. As she got close the smell of Ryan's loins hit her nostrils. Thick and stuffy, the stink of unwashed musk new to her but shockingly arousing. Desmond had been so clean, so antiseptic. Ryan was a man. He smelled of work and grime. Brooke grabbed his dark phallus in a paw, brought it to her lips. Its flaccid flesh wobbled. She pulled down, tugged back its foreskin, bared the glans. Hungrily she pushed her nostrils to it, smelled it, and moaned. Her lips opened and engulfed the black flesh. Both she and Ryan moaned together.

"There ya go, kid. Suck me off. Papa wolf likes that," he hissed. His paws, big and work-worn, caressed Brooke's soft back. He paused at her hips, then forced himself onward. He cupped the heart-shaped curve of her ass. "You got an ass like Zaylin, kid. Big and fat. I'm sayin' that in the best way. Your ass is gorgeous."

Brooke shuddered at the praise. "Thanks," she mumbled around his penis. Pulled back and said, "What, um, would you want to do with my butt?"

"Rub it," he said, demonstrating the idea. "Or I could eat it."

Her muzzle became hot. "Eat-, eat my ass?" She giggled nervously, her docked tail wriggling. "Like rimming? I've heard of that." Her voice rose with excitement, only to fall off: "But..."

"Yeah. Rimming." He smiled. "What do you think, kid? You wanna sit on my face while ya gobble my meat?"

Brooke bit her lip. She nuzzled Ryan's cock where it met his balls. He smelled so good, she could have huffed him for hours. "I'm a little sweaty, a little-," she swallowed, "stinky, I guess."

"That's the best time to eat ass," Ryan affirmed. "You wanna make me happy, Brooke? Put that sweaty, smelly ass on my muzzle. I mean it."

"You're a strange old wolf," Brooke said with admiration in her voice. She sat up, got up and unzipped her fly. "Is it nice?" she queried as she shimmied out of her jeans. "Does it feel good?"

"Getting a rimjob?" Ryan flopped back on the bed. He thought about inviting her to give him one. Maybe later. "Well, to a guy, it feels awesome, sugar." He chuckled. "Zay always loved getting her butthole tongue-punched... there's lots of sensitive nerve endings there. Even if you ain't a fan of buttfucking, rimming always feels pretty nice."

She pushed down her dark panties. In front of Ryan she felt no self-consciousness, only abiding love. She climbed over top of him, turned around and looked down at his body. Then she asked, "So I just sit?"

"Yeah. Gently." He caressed her legs. The pussy, not his favorite thing, not horrible though. Hers was tight, still young. The ass, though, that was what Ryan wanted. Male or female, a big soft ass was a wonderful thing. "Just sit down gently. Put that big, brown ass on my face."

Brooke got down to one knee, then the other. She felt the cool, rough pad of Ryan's nose against her ass crack and flinched forward. "Oh, sorry," she apologized, her nervousness readily apparent.

The wolf's fingers curled around her thighs. She was plump and warm, two things Ryan loved - especially on a cold winter day. "You don't gotta apologize," he soothed. His fingers slid up to the crook where thighs met hips and then he pulled Brooke back, coaxing her to sit. "There ya go. Ease back." His voice became muffled as Brooke's generous ass enveloped his snout. He warmly repeated, "Ease back..."

The Doberman's ass crack was deep and hot and humid. A big girl who had recently gotten even bigger, Brooke was prone to sweating - and horribly self-conscious of it. Fearing her ass was too sweaty, her smell too thick, she began to stammer, "Um-, um, Ryan, maybe we shouldn't-, maybe-, I could just get up-, we could-."

Ryan's first hungry slurp across the pink ring of Brooke's anus silenced her. Her eyes went wide, ears erect as though hearing a dogwhistle. The second slurp, longer and firmer than the first, caused her to shiver. A third, and she moaned openly. Her ears gradually splayed, her weight resting more comfortably on Ryan's face. By the time he started to slather and slurp, Brooke had all but melted for the big wolf. She slumped somewhat, encountering pleasure wholly alien to her. "Oh, Ryan," she cooed. "Oh, god, Ryan." Her love for the big, gay wolf grew by leaps and bounds.

His paws slid around her back and bottom, fingers running through short plush fur, moving with the grain. His tongue dug into her anus, prodding its virgin flesh, testing it. Brooke was moaning and cooing but she was still nervous; her pucker clenched against his probing tongue, barring its entry.

Brooke doubled over and put her belly on Ryan's chest, her breasts on his gut. He was so fat and soft, her smelly teddy bear. Loving the intimacy and the new pleasure, she brought her muzzle to his cock and enjoyed a familiar pleasure. With Desmond, Brooke had discovered her love of fellatio. With Ryan, her love flourished.

Dark, musky cock rubbed her lips, drooled its lubricant on her tongue. Its remainder filled her paw. Brooke's eyes closed as she suckled the aged wolf, savoring potent smells and a size she had only dreamed of as her bottom was tongued. The lips of her vulva grew damp, the wetness oozing from between them into the fluff of Ryan's neck. His fur was soft and comforting against her body, loins especially.

Ryan's tongue slithered back into his mouth. He pushed his nostrils against the wet pucker of anus, smelled her, huffed across her cuntlips from his maw. Sampling anal musk was like tasting fine wine, for each smell had its unique merits. Brooke's smell was heady and strong when sucked from the source. Her sex didn't matter to Ryan, not here. Zaylin smelled nice, so did Brooke, so did most of the boys he fucked.

He pulled back his snout somewhat and said to the sucking dog, "You got a nice smell, kid. Real good stink going on."

Brooke blushed and spit out Ryan's cock. She giggled nervously. "I-, I stink? Really?"

"It's a good thing, sugar," the wolf assured. "It's a damn nice smell." He went in for another sniff - and then licked her again. He knew the rimming was what she enjoyed.

The dog nuzzled with Ryan's penis, rubbing its slippery dark meat on her muzzle. She was proud to wear its smell on her face. Realizing she loved the smell of his crotch so much caused her to make a connection. She asked, "Sniffing butts-, it's nice, right?" As if to convince herself, she added, "I really love the smell of your penis."

Ryan smiled impishly. He felt like the drug dealer in those cheesy old PSAs. Well here you go kids, it's just the coolest thing ever, just try a little bit...

"Tell you what, kiddo," Ryan said down in her ass crack. Another sniff - she smelled so good. He pulled back and admired her chubby brown ass. "How about you try me? Lick my asshole. Give it a sniff."

She tensed, heart jumping into her throat like a piece of stuck food. "I don't know," she whispered. Part of her worried it would be disgusting, that she would lose interest in Ryan. Another part was curious - suppose she loved it? "What if I'm no good at it?"

"Eatin' ass is easy, kid," Ryan chuckled. "It ain't like you're doin' brain surgery." He nuzzled her bottom and thought about Zaylin's fat, brown wolverine ass. The similarities, at least from his point of view, were staggering. "It'd make me awfully happy."

That did it for Brooke. Anything to make Ryan happy. Ryan was so handsome and sweet. "All right," she said, voice quiet and dainty. With care she removed herself from Ryan and sat on the bed. The saliva between her ass cheeks felt awkward; it made her think of how she felt when she was really sweaty.

"How you want me, kid?" Ryan asked, his fingers interlaced over his gut. "Like this?" He lifted his legs, bent them at the knee. His scrotum dangled almost onto the bed but a hint of his ass crack was visible. "Or maybe on my hands and knees like you're gonna fuck me?" A grin.

Brooke moved in close, heart racing, pussy hot and wet with excitement. "Like this," she growled, thinking of the wonderful smell of his balls. "So, I just-, I just lick," she mumbled, more to herself than to Ryan. Closing her eyes, leaning near, Brooke nosed his balls. Their smell was thick and nasty, a fine comfort. She nuzzled under them, touched her nose to his taint, shivered. Noisome anal musk flooded her nostrils.

Breathe through your mouth, kid, her inner voice said, but she defiantly used her nose. Ryan smelled wonderful. His stink was overwhelming, a taste for a refined palate to be sure, but Brooke wanted that acquired taste. Her nose dragged along his taint like the needle of a record player, reading smells ingrained into the fur instead of grooves and pits. Without realizing it, she began to salivate. Thick ropes of drool spilled over lips. Her vulva did much the same.

Brooke's nostrils kissed the pink ring of Ryan's anus. The smell was nearly unbearable. Thick, vulgar musk emanated from the bud and Brooke wanted all of it, wanted to snort that rich and earthy stench down into her lungs until there was no oxygen in her, only Ryan. Expecting only to lick, Brooke now only snorted and snuffled. Her tongue dangled over her lower lip.

Ryan chuckled. It was almost a giggle. "Like a duck to water, kid. Listen to you snorting that asshole," sighed Ryan, sounding like a proud father giving away his daughter on her wedding day. His cock twitched. He masturbated slowly, more fluffing than anything else. "You don't gotta lick it. Not at all. Papa wolf's happy just to get snuffled."

Brooke was on another planet with Ryan's smell. His words were meaningless; her ears may as well have been sewn shut. She smelled and smelled, hungry for his scent in a fashion she had never known before. His anal musk appealed to her canine instincts in a way she had never dared to explore. Now she was wondering in less active parts of her brain how she had gone without this experience for so many years.

Her paws caressed Ryan's prostrate body, roamed his fat thighs and brushed his gut. His heated fur and flesh seemed to sluice through her digits more like a liquid than a solid, so pudgy was the old gay wolf. But her mind was on his smell, his stink, the anal musk so outrageously potent that it was like a drug. Brooke had never been on drugs - she did not consider an occasional puff of marijuana to be much of a drug - and so her mind was unprepared for the nirvana sensation such heady musk brought on. A dribble of clear, but musky fluid dripped from her vulva.

"Yeah, kid, smell it. Smell that asshole, snort it good," said Ryan, the words gentle encouragement. His mind drifted back a few years to a little garage out west, the clubhouse of a certain group of bikers. Laying on the cold cement alone with Zaylin, blackout drunk, her snout buried in his ass crack just the way Brooke's was buried. The fat wolverine had smelled and sucked and smooched his asshole, and she had declared his ass the best she had ever tasted or smelled. And Ryan had the feeling that, in a few years, Brooke would look back and say the same thing about him.

Ryan gnawed at his lip, huffed, studied the somewhat dirty ceiling of the room with tired eyes. He masturbated slowly and gently, still only a fluffing action, his mind on Brooke's desire to make him squirt. Her snorting and sniffing was more stimulating than she would have believed. He could have gotten off quickly if he'd wanted to.

"God, kid, goddamn. You smell my asshole any harder and I ain't gonna have any stink left for the next person I sit on."

Brooke startled him when she growled to him, "Good, it's all mine."

Ryan cracked a laugh. Over Brooke's renewed snorting, he asked her, "Kid, you wanna-, you wanna do something else now? Maybe something a little better?"

What could be better than this? thought Brooke, inundated in aged wolf stink. She felt across the slippery lips of her pussy and shivered. No. Nothing could be better than this. Not unless the wolf decided to fuck her, and he was too gay for that. Even if he offered, she wouldn't accept it. She knew if he did offer, it would be only to make her happy-

"I'll fuck you, kid," he said very lowly, as if worried someone would hear. "In the pussy. Just this goddamn once, you understand. And if I'm being honest, only'cause you're making me think so much of Zay."

If there had ever been a sweeter proposition, Brooke didn't know what it was. She abandoned his ass and her principles in an instant. His stink clung to her nose, soaked her muzzle, kept her eyes glazed and her pussy hot. She flopped back onto the bed and her legs were spread wide for him, long legs and fat thighs pointing in to the slick pink split of her pussylips.

Ryan, kneeling between her legs, cracked a smirk. "Sorry to twist your arm."

"Just do it," said Brooke, her voice not demanding but pleading. She reached out, soft paws touching his face, caressing his muzzle. He pushed gently into them, took pleasure in her touch. "God. God, you're handsome."

Ryan said with a smile, "Keep telling me that and I'll start taking advantage of it."

"Please," Brooke whined.

The wolf tried not to look at the split of her pussylips, but he did. And he saw the pink bud of her anus too, but it was her pussy he ended up focusing on. He wanted it, and he would never admit it to Brooke - mostly because he couldn't explain what his thoughts were. But when he looked at her eager, exulted face and saw the abiding love in her eyes, he almost understood. He cared about Brooke. Not the intense love at first sight she felt for him, sadly no, but he loved her too. He loved her in his own way.

His dark penis touched her pussylips. It was strong, firm, did not wilt away upon touching vaginal flesh. His eyes were locked onto hers when he entered. He watched, a quirk of a smile on his lips, as her expression tightened, her eyes closing, lips drawing back just briefly. And then the pleasure washed over her, warmed her. In he went, one inch after another. Brooke's young vagina accepted him gratefully. There was pain but there was so much more pleasure. Her arms curled about him and she kissed him, smooched him deep and hot with smelly lips. And Ryan kissed her back, slathering his tongue through her maw.

I love this man thought Brooke. I love him. He's old and gay and has a girlfriend already but I love him so much. He's so handsome and sweet and god he's big and he smells so fucking good and Brooke's mind rambled on and on, justifying the love and the pleasure.

Ryan shuddered as he touched bottom, so to speak. His loins resting upon hers, the closest two bodies could be. He had forgotten the feeling of pussy, his last romp with Zaylin one barely remembered anyway. This sex with Brooke wanted to take him back nearly thirty years but he stayed with Brooke in the present. She was beautiful and sweet - so what if she was a girl and she was half his age? Nobody was perfect. He didn't know much about this Desmond, but he didn't have a high opinion of the kid if he could pump and dump a girl this good.

The sex was slow but firm. Ryan knew just how to push in, so Brooke believed. He knew what he was doing, he made her feel wonderful. His aged wolf meat was loved, appreciated by the gripping walls of her vagina. And she felt an incredible sense of uniqueness as Ryan made love to her, believing rightly that she was in a rarefied group of women who Mr. Ryan Huffman would make love to.

The kiss eased free but the slobber was thick between them. It clung to their lips like honey, warmed them in their room insulated against the winter chill. Her paws roamed his burly back, gripping coarse black fur, stroking work-toughened muscles. He aged so gracefully, she marveled. Fifty years old, a little gray, but handsome and perfect. "I love you, Ryan," she whispered, no shame in her voice. She kissed his cheek and chin and neck. "I love you so much. Thank you for this..."

Ryan huffed. He was blushing and smiling contritely. "Love you too, kid," he murmured, and her face lit up like an exploding firework. She giggled and peppered him with smooches. Still she was arching, moaning for him, her fat body grinding into his fat body, sweaty fur mashing together and exchanging musky juices.

"I want to-, I wanna meet her," Brooke whispered near an ear. "I want to meet Zaylin."

The wolf considered. He moved against her, smooth sex quickening. Fat gut grinding hers, moobs on boobs, fluids shared freely. "Zay would like you," Ryan said confidently. "If nothing else 'cause I like you."

Brooke giggled. Only her first time with Desmond brought to mind such pleasure - and even that seemed so dull now, a gentle bit of lovemaking with his small penis and then it was done. Brooke came; she gave Desmond her first blood. And it had been nice, but Desmond was no Ryan Huffman. He was no well-aged stud with musk which was simultaneously delectable and repulsive. She kissed his lips firmly then growled near his muzzle, "I bet she likes your smell too."

"You better believe it, kid," Ryan answered, and winked. He nuzzled with Brooke. One of his paws cupped her breast and the gesture alone startled her. Then he felt over the nipple, that hard pink nub, and she shuddered. Cooed for Ryan.

"Oh, Ryan," she whined. "Ryan, this is so-, it's so good, Ryan..."

A bit of dirty satisfaction crept into Ryan's expression and voice. The sleaze, Brooke thought, only made him look better; she doubted he could do anything to put her off. "Yeah? You gonna cum for me, kid?"

"Fuck, am I," Brooke quivered, and raked her short claws down his back. "I am going to cum so hard if you just keep that up."

Ryan did - of course he did. He thought about fine boys with big round asses, sweaty assholes, tight little puckers to plunder. And they were good, oh yes they were very good, the gay wolf was still gay and Brooke would be the exception to his rule for a very long time.

As he thought of his precious boys, he gave Brooke more. He hunkered over her and gave himself some more leverage and then he really started to buck into her, smashing her the way she undoubtedly wanted it. He kissed her with lots of slobbery tongue. It dragged through the girl's mouth like a fat piece of meat, slurping over teeth and gums, marking its territory with slobber. Brooke took it all and begged for more. She clawed at Ryan, clenched on him, moaned and cooed to him in the smothering kiss.

The pleasure was unbearable but the satisfaction was what really hit Brooke. Ryan was her second partner but the first one she truly loved - and there was no doubt in her mind of that, she was emphatically in love with him. Brooke would have followed him anywhere he went if she could, and it all came down to his sweetness. His handsomeness and raw sexual appeal helped, but she adored how charming Ryan was. She had never before been so attracted to somebody the same age as her father, but here she was now.

Ryan went at her harder and quicker, the bed's frame springing and squeaking beneath as his fat body heaved onto hers. Each time he came down Brooke was crushed a little bit under his weight, but he was so fat and pillowy that she never felt oppressed. She felt over him, all over him, groping his butt, rubbing his head, desiring nothing but Ryan, simply Ryan any way she could get him.

Brooke whined as she came. The pleasure burned at her, threatened to melt its way out of her, and in the end she squirted hard. Her vaginal walls hugged the plunging black meat of Ryan's penis as snugly as possible. Vaginal wetness oozed around him and made him slick. The whole room already stank of sex and now Brooke's potent musk was added to the miasma.

The wolf grumbled, huffed, and gnawed at Brooke's maw with his big lupine jaws. The smell of her sex awoke some ambivalent feeling in him, a mixture of lust and a revulsion he would never dare mention to her. He kept going, kept fucking her, now moving like a ruthless machine just to get it done. Beneath him Brooke yowled and writhed, cried out to Ryan how incredible he was, speaking loud enough for Ryan and their neighbors to hear. But Brooke did not care, Brooke was in love and she was satisfied.

When Ryan came, he had a fleeting thought (shit gotta pull out pull out this is a girl and she's so young and) but it was too little, too late. He erupted into Brooke and he gasped free of the kiss, slobber coating his lips. Thick and potent wolf spunk slopped Brooke's vaginal walls, fertile seed entering her. He thought one last fleeting time (pull out of her) and then he fell against her, blushing and hot, a dumb grin on his blushing, messy face.

"Ooh. My god, Ryan," purred Brooke, fingers sliding through his hair. "Oh, Ryan... you were amazing. Honest-to-god amazing."

The wolf huffed, chuckled, nuzzled with her. "Uh. Kid-, Brooke. Listen, you're on some kinda protection, right?"

But the Doberman only smiled as if she did not comprehend what he meant. "Protection? Well-, I-. Oh my god."

"Oh, shit," Ryan groaned, and he rolled off of Brooke. Cupped his face in his paws, groaned again. "Oh, fuck. I knew I shoulda put it in your butt."

"What? No, no," Brooke said absently. She sat up, and then she thoughtfully cupped her pudgy gut. "Ryan. Ryan, I have a question."

The wolf did not remove his paws from his face. "I'm shit at namin' kids, Brooke."

Oh, I'm sure you could come up with some lovely names, thought Brooke. But she pushed the idea out of her mind. She was back a month, thinking now about him - about Desmond.

"When you eat too much, when you gain weight," she cupped one of her breasts, "do your breasts grow bigger, too?"

Ryan looked at her cautiously. Eventually he sat up and looked at her breasts diffidently. "Well, kind of," he said, and cupped his own rather plump moobs.

The Doberman grinned, then her situation sank back into place. Her grin faltered. "Ryan. I think-, I think I was already pregnant. And it's Desmond's."

Ryan studied her closely. He leaned in close and kissed her cheek. "You sure? You have any morning sickness?"

Brooke looked away demurely. "Uh. I've been sick a few mornings. I just-, I thought it was nerves, because I was going to tell him I loved him, and-, and-." Suddenly she began to cry, sniffles at first before a swift graduation to full-on bawling.

Without hesitating, Ryan pulled her into his arms. He kissed her everywhere he could. Between the ears, on the cheeks, on her neck. "Shh. Shush, kid, it'll be okay. It'll be all right." He squeezed her gently.

"Oh, Ryan, I still feel like a little girl sometimes. I'm not even thirty and now I'm pregnant with some-, some southern dirtbag's child. Oh god."

Dirty images flashed in Ryan's mind. Back alley clinics. Coat hangers. He shooed out the notion. "What do you wanna do, sugar? What do you want to do about this?"

"I don't know," bleated Brooke. "I really don't know... I always wanted to be a mother. But I don't know if I can do this."

Ryan pecked her on the cheek. "You ain't gonna be alone."

Brooke huffed. "Mm, I know... my brother will help me all he can. But-."

"You got me," Ryan interrupted, softly. "I ain't gonna ditch you, kid. After all, didn't you wanna meet Zaylin?" He speared her with a charming Ryan Huffman smile.

Brooke managed to smile back. Ryan was so handsome, such an old charmer. She nuzzled with him, said quietly, "I love you, Ryan. I'm so glad I met you."

He squeezed her in tight. "Glad I met you too, kid. Of course, the day you stop snorting my butthole is the day I walk out of your life."

The dog surprised herself when she laughed, even if t was only a snort. The snort turned to giggles. Before long she was slumped against Ryan, giggling deliriously. "Ryan-, oh Ryan, that's not gonna be a problem."

"No?" Ryan asked softly. He rubbed her hip. "Even when I'm old and wrinkly?"

Brooke smiled. "You are old and wrinkly. You're a smelly, elderly queer. But I love you anyway."

Ryan slurped her cheek, left a big stripe of drool on it. "Aw, you're too sweet, kid." He scooted away and pulled back the covers. As he slipped under them, he asked if she could get the lamp and turn the heat up. Brooke gladly did both with the sweetness of a new bride.

As she cuddled in beside Ryan's sweaty, chubby body beneath the blankets, Brooke asked him, "Ryan, what's gonna happen to me?"

"Mm?" He yawned. "Well, kid, I guess you're gonna be a single mom, but you ain't gonna be alone. I can be around some of the time. You said you got your brother, right?"

"Yes. Yeah. He's sweet - and I'm sure he'd love to be an uncle." The dog sighed. "But one thing does bother me."

Ryan was silent in the dark for so long that Brooke thought he had fallen asleep. And she was ready to let it drop, but then he asked her, "Yeah? What is it?"

"Well. I don't want to have to tell my child that their father is a-, a little dirtbag corporate raider."

The wolf cinched her up closer. Against his sweaty bulk, she experienced sublime relaxation. Her nose nestled into his armpit where the musk was powerful - but it was okay, it was Ryan's stink.

"So tell 'em it's me. I can be a daddy."

"You-? Really? Ryan, I wouldn't want to-, to impose like that..."

"No imposition to me." He kissed her more-or-less on the cheek. "I joke about being a dad. I guess I can fill in for your kid. At least until it's old enough to know the truth."

Brooke's eyes welled up with tears and she wondered how much of that was the pregnancy. She supposed she had been quite emotional these last few days.

"I don't know what to say."

Ryan chuckled. "Say good night. I've been on my feet for damn near twenty hours. We'll talk more in the morning, kid."

"Right. Sorry." She kissed his cheek. She loved his coarse fur and his masculine smell. "Love you. I love you, Ryan."

And Ryan smooched her back on the lips. She still smelled like his hind-end. "I love you too, kid. Now go to sleep."

Brooke did. She slept peacefully up against the big, gay wolf.