The Couch
The Couch
He always loved that couch. Everyday for the past three years, he'd come home after working at the mill, kick off those dusty brown boots of his and strip down into nothing but his boxers and a greasy t-shirt. Then he'd head into his living room, and throw himself down on that couch before sighing and turning on the TV. And that was exactly what Jeremy was doing right now, sitting his lazy, fat-ass down on his couch, watching television wearing nothing but a dirty t-shirt, white boxers and his sweat socks. He had his footpaws propped up on the table in-between his couch and the TV, and he was repeatedly flipping channels looking for something interesting on. But as always, his satellite never received any of the good television programs. Jeremy sighed heavily before looking down at his belly and smiling. He really was a very fat dog--overweight for sure, but he wasn't sure if he was clinically obese yet. His light brown stomach was so hairy and full of fat. He loved his chubby stomach very much, even if the rest of his coworkers joked and said his ass was so fat he'd rip his pants wide open one day. He didn't care. Jeremy was a bit of a narcissist when it came to his body. Sure, he didn't have chiseled abs. Sure; he didn't live in a rich apartment. Sure, he didn't have much hygiene and quite frankly, you'd smell him before you saw him. Sure, he was lazy. But somehow, Jeremy ignored all of that. If he was gonna be a fat, slobby, lazy dog, he might as well take pride in it, and try to be the fattest, laziest dog around. And so, Jeremy sat on his filthy couch and watch more television, before sniffing the air a couple of times and murring.
It wasn't just that Jeremy stank, but he was musky too, musky enough for a prostitute to give him head just by taking a whiff of his genitals. The fat brown dog sniffed the air again for a very long time and exhaled with a wide smile on his face. His stench was almost hypnotizing, and definitely something worth bragging about, even if the rest of his coworkers hated it. His ass, his balls, his armpits, even his feet--they all had their own stinky, yet mouth-watering scent to it. His musk was part of the reason why he adored his couch so much. Almost everyday when he got home, or if he was feeling horny, he'd just sit on that couch and sniff his feet and/or his armpits a couple of times, and afterwards, he'd be horny enough to masturbate right then and there on said couch. He raised his left arm and pressed his muzzle into his filthy, hairy armpits before taking three long whiffs and murring softly to himself yet again. He looked down at his underwear and giggled as he saw the notorious bulge growing, stretching out the fabric. Jeremy sniffed again, opening his mouth so he could exhale onto his hairs and lick them a little with his slimy tongue. Then he looked down at those dirty, light brown socks of his and grinned. Jeremy didn't have a foot fetish, but he loved the scent of footpaws, especially when they haven't been washed in weeks. He brought his left foot up to his face and took a nice whiff of the stinky, cheesy odor that had been sealed inside of them for the past couple of months, before exhaling and feeling that erection in his boxers extending even more. The dog sniffed again, intrigued by the strong odor of Limburger and malt vinegar. When he was done smothering his muzzle into his left sock, he put it down on the floor and lifted up his right footpaw so he could take a few whiffs of that as well. Jeremy was more of a canine who had olfactophilia, or a fetish for odors and smells. So sure, he liked feet, but only the smell of them, not the way they feel, or how they look, none of that. The fat dog stopped sniffing his smelly footpaws for a short moment and placed both of his feet back on the table, wiggling his toes as he murred and looked down at that fat belly of his.
He raised an eyebrow after hearing it churn a little, and the next thing he knew, he heard a loud, sputtering noise from underneath the couch and felt a wave of bubbles coming out of his anus. Jeremy sniffed the air again and blushed, giggling at the comical noise he just heard. Damn, Brian's hot wings are already going right through me, he thought. Jeremy wasn't into flatulence either, but it was an odor originating from his own body, and he laughed his smelly ass off when he saw toilet humor on television or in movies. Besides, the dog knew that letting gas out was much better than keeping it all bottled up inside, so he leaned over with his tail raised and grunted as he let out a very loud, sputtering sounding fart from his behind. He sniffed the air a couple of times before chuckling and waving a paw near his buttocks. I gotta stop eating so many hot wings, thought Jeremy. Nevertheless, the musky dog looked down at his cock and smiled as the bulge grew just a little bit more. He was almost ready to shoot his load all over the table again. Seeing as how he already had gas, and was on the verge of pawing-off if he smelled one more odor, he leaned over again and farted even harder this time, immediately taking a huge whiff of his flatulence afterwards. The room was filled with a terrible combination of the dog's body odor, stinky cheese and rotten eggs. Some furries with sensitive noses would've thrown up. Jeremy wafted the smell into his snout, and his erection grew so much that it began to hurt. He moaned ecstatically and grabbed his crotch, murring and muttering dirty, lustful things to himself as he massaged that great big bulge in his boxers. He tightened his grip on his balls and dick and inhaled sharply, preparing himself so he could start fapping. It was such an exhilarating thrill; he couldn't stand it any longer. Perhaps it was just his imagination, but as he rubbed his bulge, he felt it growing it warm...mysteriously warm, like someone poured coffee all over his boxers. At first, Jeremy thought nothing of it, until the smell finally kicked it. Then, once he heard an annoying, dripping sound, Jeremy finally looked down at his underwear and removed his paw.
It was wet, the palm soaked in a strange, musky liquid. He looked down at his boxers and swore loudly to himself. Jeremy remembered that he forgot to use the bathroom back at the mill before he came home, and as he rubbed the bulge in his underwear, he merely assumed that the warm sensation was the semen about to shoot out his urethra. But it wasn't semen. It was urine. The dog was wetting himself so much that the fluids were already bleeding through the fabric and hastily traveling down the couch onto the carpet. He tried to hold it in, but he was already pissing himself; no point in even trying. So he did the next best thing: Jeremy grabbed his waistband and lowered his boxers just far enough to reveal his long, musky, seven-inch cock. He aimed his dick at the carpet and began to pee all over the floor, watching as the yellow waste bled into the carpet and create a puddle that slowly increased in diameter. Jeremy calmed down now that he wasn't pissing himself anymore, and sighed heavily as he looked at the stream coming out of his penis. Even his urine was musky, and he bent down to take a few small whiffs of his piss. He may not be into farting, or feet, but he'd be lying if he said he hated watersports. There was just something about it all that got to him...something that no other fetish was similar to. It must've been the sight of it, the long, endless golden flow of urine as it splattered against the carpet, glistening as the sun shines onto it. If the smell hadn't gotten in the way, Jeremy was sure that furries would think that watersports was beautiful to stare at. Then again, being the musky dog that he was, maybe it was the smell that got to him. Nothing smelled greater than the stale odor of urine as it was released from a cock that hadn't been scrubbed in weeks. It damn sure wasn't the taste though. Jeremy noticed how wonderful it looked when he was peeing outside on a tree on a very sunny day and, curious, he aimed his cock upwards and peed in his mouth. He spent the next hour brushing his teeth and gargling mouthwash. Then there was the sound. Oh, how he loved the sound of his urine as it splattered against something thick and hard, like a wall or tree bark or a window. It was practically memorizing, and set the canine in a trance. Even as he pissed all over his carpet, knowing that it would take a helluva long time getting the stain out, he was hypnotized by the sound of the fluids as they made contact with the carpet. He closed his eyes and took another strong whiff of the piss, before murring again and staring at the sparkling yellow water. He stared for twenty seconds, and then the stream slowly rescinded, and then disappeared. He thought about chugging the six-pack he had in the fridge, but he was already horny enough as it was, and urinating on the carpet seemed to help stimulate him. He couldn't take it anymore. Jeremy grabbed his wet cock and started to vigorously rub back and forth.
He moaned loudly as he started to paw-off, panting and exhaling as he stroked his cock up and down. His living room was so rank right now, so filthy and musty that he couldn't stand it. He moved his paw slowly at first, but upon taking a whiff of his body odor and the carpet that was now drenched with his urine, his erection started to throb a little, coaxing him to fap harder and faster. And so he did, creating a quiet thwacking noise in the process. As he was pawing-off, the dog even bent down so he could smell his groin and his cock--both of which were also highly musky--and he murred loudly, practically growling with exuberance. Jeremy started panting again and groaned as he masturbated a little faster now, tightening his grip on his thick cock. He didn't know how long he had been fapping, but damn, it sure seemed like he was going to cum soon. Jeremy fueled his lust by raising his left arm and taking two long whiffs of his foul armpits, the humid stench acting like a pheromone to Jeremy. He closed his eyes and moaned so loud that he was sure someone walking past his front door would've heard him. His wet tongue was hanging down near his jaw, and he was drooling excessively, the trails of saliva dripping down onto the couch and the floor. The brown dog thought about sniffing his smelly socked feet again, but trying to lift one of them up to his face and fapping simultaneously was too much of a hassle for him. But he was in luck. Those hot wings he gorged on at work were still giving his bowels some trouble, and once Jeremy felt the gas nearing his tailhole, he leaned over a bit and released it all into the air, with a comical, trumpeting sound. Of course, Jeremy cared little for the noise; it was the smell that got to him, the rancid odor of beans and rotten eggs and dog shit. Upon inhaling the funky smell, the dog moaned loudly again, with more saliva slithering down his mandible. He started to masturbate with two paws now, moaning so loudly he was almost emitting high-pitched screams. His penis was oozing a substantial amount of precum, and he was fapping so fast his cock was beginning to hurt. He loosened his grip, but still stroked his dick over and over and over again, overcome by the smell of his living room. He was almost there now; he could feel it ready to burst out. Jeremy leaned forward, just enough so he could smell the piss that had been soaked into the carpet. He took three small whiffs, and started gasping loudly. Then, with one hard tug, and one vociferous scream, he came. He watched as all the little torrents of sticky, white goo splattered all over the table and the carpet, at least six or eight different blotches to add on to all the recent ones in his house. When he was done, he let go of his throbbing cock and sighed with intense relief, slouching back down into the couch. Jeremy looked down at his now flaccid and sore dick before pulling up his boxers, still moist and stained with urine.
He thought about going to bed, taking off his smelly socks and his wet boxers, but after what he just did, he was far too tired and lazy to do that. Besides, his room didn't smell as nearly as bad as the living room did now. So Jeremy turned off the TV, turned off all the lights in the living room, stretched himself out along the couch, and sighed as he started to fall asleep. Not at comfortable as the bed, but Jeremy loved that couch of his, and he was eager to waking up in the morning with the same, thick, musty air filling his nostrils again. It'd help him get rid of his Morning Wood much faster anyway.