One in the Dark
One In The Dark
Bowling pins clattered in a strike, the iridescent-green bowling ball surviving a gutter shot. A rust-furred dhole, clad in a black, dirty apron, watched as the bowler raised his arms in celebration to the cheers of his team, four of them total. They were the only group left and their lane was the only one open. Sighing, the dhole tapped the last few letters into his cell phone, finalizing his text message before a glaring red fox startled him into shutting it.
"You almost done?" she said, glancing at the tub of garbage bags and broken down boxes the dhole had failed to wheel to the outside dumpsters in a timely manner. "You know you're supposed to keep your phone in the car. The boss said in our meeting that he'll take them if you're caught."
She crossed arms.
"Just a quick message," the dhole said, slipping his phone into his pocket. "Besides, I was busy cooking all the new specials no one told me about as everyone sat at the meeting. Even did the serving and cashiering when one customer wanted a refill on their pitcher of Bud."
"Regardless, you know the rules." She glanced at the team as some chick with a tail that seemed longer than her body landed her ball in the gutter, all ten pins standing tall as soldiers. "They're halfway done with their game. If I could, I'd take the trash out myself, but you know the policy. Rape and all that. You're a guy so I'm pretty sure you've got nothing to worry about in that department. Just try to finish things up before they do, 'kay?"
"Sure," the dhole said, itching at one of his round ears as she strolled back to the front counter. Before he could commence shoving the garbage tub along, one of the customers--the one that had just bowled the strike--motioned him over. He was a dog of some breed or another, with short, yellow fur and a broad smile. Unfortunately, he wore his collars popped, which made him look more like a douche than he probably was.
"Another pitcher, please?"
"Sure," the dhole obliged, taking their old pitcher the group had killed too quickly. "Lemme guess. Bud Light?"
"You got it." The dog handed him a ten.
"Hey, who's this cutey?" one of the girls teased before the dhole could turn to fetch their refill. She was a feline of some breed or another. Fur: long. Smile: even broader. Wild, even. Collars: safely not popped. She hooked him by the arm. "A little skinny and short for my tastes, but you've got the most darling little ears!"
"Uh, thanks?" he offered, blushing beneath his fur as the other girl with the super-long tail pulled her off, apologizing. But the dhole was pretty lithe. And even though he was in his late twenties, he still looked boyish, his fur still soft as a pup's.
"Sorry," she said again, placing a paw around the cat's mouth, who giggled absurdly. "And don't worry. We're cutting her off." She eased her into the arms of her significant other, a beefy lion who'd just smashed all ten pins down, also offering apologies for his girlfriend's behavior.
Arm free, the dhole soon returned with a new pitcher of beer, setting it on the table before asking if he could get them anything else.
"Just your number!" the cat bellowed from her seat before erupting with laughter. The lion slunk his head into his paws.
"Sorry about that, mate," the dog said, shaking his head as the dhole offered him his change. "Keep it."
"You are pretty cute, though," the long-tailed girl said, watching as he pocketed the tip. She was a ringtail with expressive eyes that agreed with the cat's boisterous opinion. "You got a girlfriend? We're all regulars here and we've seen you cooking up a storm in the kitchen plenty of times. That practically makes us family, right? You can tell us."
The dog shook his head. "You, too? Guess you're cut off as well!"
"Just asking!" she replied with a laugh. Then, back to the dhole, "Well, sweetie?"
"No, not really," the dhole said, nearly in a whisper. His dark tail seemed to grow stiff. "I can work my way around a grill, but a girl's heart?"
"It's a mess in there," the lion said, who seemed twice the size as the dhole. "I don't get it, either."
"Hey!" the cat said, before falling into his lap giggling. "My heart is prissstine."
"Where you from?" the ringtail asked, ignoring the cat. "Don't get many of your kind here. You're a--?"
"A dhole," he affirmed. "I get asked that a lot." This was more than true. Everyone and their mother seemed interested in his lineage. Blessing and curse, the dhole had a tendency to break the homogeneity of any congregation and its limited species and breeds of which this part of the country was comprised. "Was born here, though. My parents are both immigrants."
"Cool, cool," she said. "Maybe you should bowl with us sometime?" Then, with a laugh, "We need to fill our quota of foreign friends. I should know... my grandparents hired coyotes to get here."
"Yeah, that would be cool," the dog chimed in, "illegal people-smuggling aside. The pizza you make is bomb. Anyone who can make pizza half as good is welcome in my book."
The ringtail nodded. "Plus, my sister's single. She's cute as you are. You two need to meet! I'll be sure to bring her along."
"Sounds like a plan," the dhole said, smiling, his voice wavering as embarrassment stung his face. "Anyway, I got to get this done"--the dhole gestured to the trash tub-on-wheels--"before the fox over there turns me into tomorrow's special. Be right back!"
Waving the group bye, the dhole began pushing the tub past the front desk, past the fox's glare, and towards the side doors that were a dozen or so yards further. Another strike resounded through the empty bowling alley, which, by day, was gushing with such a din of people and toppled pins it was a miracle for anyone working there to have this level of silence. Closing time meant one could participate in conversation without peppering it with "What?" and "Huh?"
Cool air whispered through the dhole's fur as he managed the tub through the doors, cars in the distance hassling the night's quiet as they retreated towards their destinations. The dhole could see both dumpsters huddled in the back of the parking lot, hugging an eroded curb, a lamppost flickering its morse code, demanding a replacement bulb.
The wheels argued over rough asphalt, past two cars inhabiting the unlit center of the lot. Probably the group's back inside, as his car, a modest Corolla passed down from an elder sibling, was parked in the lot on the opposite side of the building, near the red fox's. One dumpster was marked for cardboard only; he pried open the lid and tossed all the boxes inside. Switching dumpsters, which housed an awful concoction of refuse the city had yet to collect, he readied a bag of garbage with one paw and began lifting the lid with the other.
The lid slammed down, startling the dhole. A heavy paw held it shut.
"Well, look what he have here," boomed a voice that was dark and unpenetrable as the backdrop of night around them. The dhole spun around, only to find himself trapped between another arm.
"Can I help you?" the dhole managed, peering up at the dangerous, tooth-carved grin of the towering wolf whose fur was so black he could camouflage with the darkness, or perhaps he'd been chiseled straight from the darkness itself, although appearing as if he belonged at a gym rather than a bowling center, his shirtless body a bulky mass of muscle. He was made of granite. "Sorry, but the house is closed. We're just waiting on the last group to leave."
"Well, ain't that a shame, though I ain't no kegler," the wolf replied, a chuckle rumbling deep from somewhere within. The dhole caught a glimpse of those eyes as the lamppost flickered. They were yellow and piercing. Predatory. "But I got my own pin that needs striking, if you know what I mean." The wolf grabbed his own crotch, giving it a hefty lift.
The dhole, noticing the opening, slipped over to the garbage tub. "Awful pick-up line, sir," he said, spurting the tub along. If he was trying to sound brave, no one could tell--his voice hesitated like a Late 10. "Gay club's down the road. Try--" Before the dhole could finish he was spun around, wolf paws heavy on his shoulders, the tub rolling to a stop a yard away. "W-what do you want?"
The wolf chuckled again. "Allow me to make this more clear for you." Clutching the dhole with one paw so hard his claws pricked at his skin, he released his other paw and hooked the band of the sweatpants he wore and tugged it down, pulling out the imposing shaft of his wolfhood, a fleshy pink that gave his jetty figure a splash of color. Big enough to choke a horse. The dhole gulped.
"I-I'll yell, dude, if you try anything," the dhole warned.
The wolf clutched him by the throat, provoking a gasp. "Go ahead. Scream like a bitch. You'll be mine soon enough."
The dhole struggled against the wolf's grip as he dragged him behind the dumpsters into the grass, damp with that morning's soft rain, but the wolf had a bicep the size of his head and he held his neck like a pit bull.
Slumping the dhole down like a rolled rug, the wolf trapped the dhole between big, sculpted arms again, clutching the grass with his paws, hovering over him.
Though the dhole squirmed, he didn't attempt escape. Instead, he gazed at his captor, the wetness of the grass bleeding through the back of his shirt. "What are you gonna do?"
The wolf smirked. "Been watching you for a few, learning your routine. Been wonderin' how much wolf-dick your tiny ass can take. Might break you in half, though. You still a kid? Guess if I break one law, might as well go all out."
The dhole's eyes went wide and he pleaded for the wolf to just let him go, that he wouldn't tell anyone. Classic damsel in distress bargaining. "Please. Just let me go."
The wolf tampered with the dhole's khakis, folding the apron over so he could better maneuver his paws. "Now, now. If I let you go I don't get laid. Simple math." Unbuttoned, he pulled the dhole's pants down to his shins, revealing the cream-colored fur of his inner thighs. "Briefs, huh? Was always a boxers kind of guy." He grabbed his own dick and gave it a wiggle. "Out of necessity, of course. Care to turn around or do I need to make ya?"
"Fuck, man. Please!" The dhole looked down at the wolf's humongous prick, thick as a beer bottle. "Please, not down there. I'll s-suck you off instead. Fair enough?"
"Gutterball, my little dhole," the wolf said, snark laughter escaping from his attempt at bowling humor as he tugged off his captive's briefs. "You look good 'n' tight. I'm not looking for some half-assed blowjob, no pun intended." He flipped the dhole around, easily as flipping over a pancake. "Time for the real thing."
The dhole tried thrashing his legs about to free himself, but the big wolf sat on them and clutched the fur on his head, causing him to wince in pain. "Please..."
"Word of warning, pup. The more you squirm, the more it'll feel like a battering ram. Can't blow my load that way, so shut up and take it. It'll be over soon."
The dhole quit squirming, tears pricking his eyes. The wolf loosened his grip.
"There's a good boy."
Wolf-eyes roamed over the dhole's tight ass, followed by a curious paw as the other lifted up his tail, revealing a tight, puckered hole. Even in the spare light, his eyesight was keen. And the sight of the helpless dhole fully revealed got him hard, his engorged glans carressing the dhole's thigh as his heavy dick swayed like a pendulum, preseminal fluid leaking from its slit.
"Don't worry, pup," the wolf cooed, "I'll be sure to lube it up. And, who knows? You may enjoy it. Something to cross off your bucket list."
Nothing muttering from his lips, the dhole's body went slack. Moldable, perhaps, as the wolf adjusted the dhole's rump upward, forcing him into doggy-style position, then prodded him with a finger, dabbing his tailhole with saliva before inserting a wet finger. Slack to stiff, the dhole gasped, squirming again, his tailhole tensing. "Easy, pup."
"Why me?" the dhole asked, although it didn't sound directed at the wolf.
"No God here." But, as if an act of mercy, the wolf retracted his finger. Then, aligning his dick with the dhole's ass, he dabbed the tight hole with pre-cum before lubricating his entire length, the slick heft of his dick in paw. "Ready, pup?"
The dhole winced in apprehension, clutching at the grass as the wolf's dick teased his tailhole. Then, without another warning, the wolf slipped the large glans inside him and the dhole cried out into the car-lit night, cursed as inch after inch of the wolf's hungry cock stretched his insides til his ass spooned into the wolf's thick-furred crotch, fitting in like a ball into a paw.
"Damn, pup," the wolf said, grinding hips playfully, testing the dhole's feel. "Took it all in one stride. You know how big I am? Very impressed." Growling in pleasure, he slapped one of the dhole's firm buttcheeks. "Tighter than expected, too. Fuckin' hell."
Breath escaped the dhole in fits as he adjusted to the wolf's heaviness, minute growls rumbling out as snippets of pain invaded his guts. Another cry burst from him, the wolf giving a testing thrust. Thrust again, hips colliding with the dhole's tight ass, his balls, heavy with the need for release, slapping against him, too, like an echo.
"Damn, you feel good," the wolf said, pausing his thrusts as he forced the dhole flat on the grass again with the weight of his hard, built body, nearly smothering the wiry dhole who had to strain to breathe. Nipping at one of his ears, he inhaled deeply at the dhole's soft fur, decoding all the individual smells of the day that clung to the smaller canid like cologne. "You smell delicious. Perhaps you can cook me up a little something afterward."
The dhole didn't reply, only breathed as the wolf lifted himself up with both paws, curving inwards to penetrate the dhole beneath him. Then perforated the quiet with slow, even thrusts: the sound of two bodies colliding, the wolf taking his prey. The dhole gasped each time the wolf slipped back in, invading his insides, every thrust becoming harder, more frantic, jolts of pain forcing the air out of him.
Too many long minutes inched along as the dhole listened to the background of cars pass by, no one caring to stop, to the wolf's grunts, moans, and incoherent whispers as he pleasured himself, his dick nonstop as a machine. Not even the red fox from the front counter peeped her head out to check up on her missing coworker. The dhole only offered whimpers, which seemed to make the wolf harder, which seemed to make him fuck harder. The occasional shout for help only made the wolf yank on his head-fur, each cry ending with a twisting yip.
At last the center's doors opened, the previous foursome stumbling out in fits of laughter and shouts towards the only two cars, the yellow dog tugging on the ringtail's namesake, the feline riding her king of the jungle piggyback.
"Wherever did that dhole go?" the ringtail wondered.
The wolf snuck a paw over the dhole's mouth, snuffing out his cry for help. "No, no, little dhole," he said, easing his thrusts into a slow, fluid movement, the volume of their fucking audible to only both participants.
"Your flirting scared him off," the dog said, struggling for the right key. "You're lucky I'm not insecure. Most guys would probably ruff you up like Mr. Brown."
"Did you ever get his new CD?" the lion asked, tossing his own giggling girlfriend into the backseat after the dog unlocked the doors. "Fame or whatever?"
"Lame, you mean? L.A.M.E.? I don't listen to that shit, even before his domestic violence fail."
"You're telling me."
"Loser Ass Making Excrement is more like it," the ringtail added, stepping a leg inside before pausing just as she placed a paw on the door, flashing a curious look over at the dumpsters where a single light flickered overhead, making the place look destitute. Eerie, perhaps.
"Get in," the dog said, starting the car. A rock CD soon blared, twin guitars bombarding the passengers amidst a syncopated drum beat. The dog turned the volume down.
"Thought I heard something," she said, closing the door after her.
"Probably some guy jacking off, watching you," the lion said, laughter coming out as a snort. The cat in the backseat cried out her displeasure, socking him in the arm in protest.
"You're gross!"
The dhole could only watch as the car's left blinker flashed a few times before they disappeared down the street, his final cry for help muffled by the large paw of the wolf. Only one car inhabited the lot now, which could only be one person's.
"Don't worry, pup," the wolf said, his paw slithering up the side of the dhole's face to clutch the soft fur on his head, then pulling it back so they looked eye to eye. "I'm almost done with you." His thrusts became loud, forceful, and deliberate, punctuated by more of the dhole's cries. The wolf joined in, his grunts and moans escalating into pleasurable, forceful bursts and growls, the wet sounds of his big dick soon drowned out.
The wolf yanked on the dhole's head, pulled on his round ears, pleasure rocketing through his hips which he vocalized along one final, deep thrust, burying himself balls deep, and letting loose a strained howl to the slice of moon that hovered over them--only witness, a voyeur buried in the dark--in unison with the spunk that shot in thick, white jets. His wolfhood throbbed with such intensity that it seemed to dizzy his head into a spell as a full moon would to any wolf, and he sunk his wet jaws down, hunkering down on the dhole's neck, unloading another wave of hot cum deep into the lesser canid's insides. Releasing the dhole almost as soon as he bit into him, his body collapsed, the wolf gathering breath as his cock gave its final contraction, the last of his spunk seeping out.
The dhole lay there quietly, the wolf heavy above him. He dabbed a paw at his neck, feeling a few drops of wetness: his blood. Before he could say anything, the wolf offered a tongue, lapping at the wound. The dhole turned his head, facing the wolf who faced back, eyes glowing in the dark, and met him with a kiss.
When the kiss ceased, the wolf leaned his snout into the dhole's ear and whispered. His dick now soft, he slipped out, pulled up his pants, and disappeared around the dumpster, his car soon starting up before tunneling into the darkness. The dhole listened on for only a moment longer, only rising as soon as the sound of the wolf's vehicle could not be distinguished from any of the few that still littered the streets.
* * *
The dhole got an earful as soon as he strolled back in, the trash tub finally empty. The red fox was locked in bitch mode, which happened more often than anyone would like, like a glitch, a song that skipped in the rotating disc of her personality. But being related to the owners did its thing and kept her position at the alley safeguarded. She even tossed out the one f-word allowed at the workplace--the possibility of him losing his job.
"Sorry, sorry," the dhole offered, rolling the tub along into its cubby hole of the janitor's closet.
"What the hell happened? You get lost in the ten steps it takes or did Big Bubba from behind the dumpsters finally catch you? We gotta get out of here!"
"One of the trash bags," the dhole explained. "It ripped. Garbage everywhere. Should I've gotten you to help me pick up half-eaten pizza and broken beer bottles?"
The red fox hesitated, but then her eyes widened. "Are you bleeding?"
"What?"
"On your neck there." She pointed as the bits of red in the rust.
"The broken bottles. Perhaps I should've gotten you to help me wrestle that mess after all. Cheap-o bag ripped right on me! I don't need to file some sort of injury report, do I?"
The fox hesitated for a split second again. "Doesn't look too bad. Just get it disinfected and let's go."
Back in his home territory in the kitchen, the dhole quickly made way for the safe spot where none of the cameras pointed and whipped out his cell phone, typing in his message as quickly as his paws would allow, to prevent the red fox from catching him and tempting the runaway lifestyle of a murderer.
You sure we should do something like this at your job?
Not that I'm complaining. See you at home soon.
And fuck, did you have to bite so hard?
The cell phone snapped shut in his paw. But just before he concealed it back in his pocket, he opened it back up:
P.S. I know I work at a bowling alley,
but 'gutterball my little dhole???' LOL