Space Sheep
#1 of Space Sheep
This is the set up for some more. They'll be lots of Bestiality later. As well as sheep.
These stories are mine and mine alone. The persons and animals are totally thought up by me.
Of course having said that, some of you may start avoiding me.
If you are under age or are offended by humans and animals doing it.
Go Away!
Prolog:
1:
The bar sat at a desolate Texas crossroads. On the diagonal sat a gas station. A few years back the gas pumps and tanks were replaced, so the locals knew the gas was clean and passed up other stations to stop there for fuel. Tom Wilson pulled the long wooden stick out of the 'hi-test' tank, noting the number, he turned in time to see the latest owner of the bar slam the door on the moving truck and rumble off east. "Damn ass-hole didn't even say goodbye, no wonder his bar didn't make it." Putting the cover back on the fuel tank, Tom went back inside to log the numbers in his book. Just then a car pulled up to the pumps. Even though the pumps had been converted to 'self-serv' a long time ago, Tom kept the old hoses and bell that announced a customer. Folks seamed to like hearing the brass bell dinging as they drove up. A sound of a bygone era. And Tom liked it, because with the noise of the air conditioner, it let him know there was someone filling up. He'd look out the big window and see who was getting gas. Also to make sure some stranger wasn't going to drive off with out paying. At the sound of the 'ding', Tom looked up to see a piece of automotive history. A 1996 Buick Roadmaster station wagon. Looked in fine shape too. Tom almost left the comfort of the AC to go out and have a look at it. Then he saw a huge Harlequin Great Dane stick it's head out of the passenger side window. Carefully stepping around his sleeping Basset hound, Tom strode out into the hot Texas air. The dog with cheerful looking eyes watch the weathered, skinny Texan come from the building. Alan Cooper also looked up to see what appeared to be a genuine cowboy strolling up to the back of his car. By the looks of him, Alan figured he wasn't in any costume, but had dressed that way since he was a boy. Stetson hat, faded shirt, and worn blue jeans, from the bottoms of which poked out a pair of cowboy boots. Standing about five foot five. Alan couldn't tell his age, it could have been forty to eighty. Alan also noted that the gas station owner glanced at his out of state plate. Tom examined the 30 year old car. Noted the faux wood trim was showing a bit of fading, but still looks good shape. The driver, looked to be in his early 30's, average size he figured, six foot maybe, sandy hair poking out from around a 'Great Danes are Cool', baseball cap. One of those 'natural' colored t-shirts and a pair of light tan cargo shorts. A pair of work boots shuffled around in the sand that blew around the fuel island. A quick glance at the license plate, confirmed what he figured that the driver was from out of state. "Someone's been taking good care of this old beauty." Tom tried to keep his normal draw out of his speech. Alan's face broke into a smile. "Yea, used to belong to my dad. I got it after he died a few years back. He hadn't driven it much, kept it in his garage mostly." A whine from the head that was now poking out of the drivers side window caught his attention. "Say is there a place I can walk my dog?" Alan waited the required pause, he knew that the folks here took their time to answer any question. They weren't stupid, he just knew they all took their time to speak. The Texas nodded to a patch of earth with tufts of grass poking out of the sandy soil. "Over there, that's where I take my dog." Alan looked at the flickering numbers on the pump and knew it still had a ways to go. "Care if I leave this running while I take her over there?" After the pause. "Go right ahead, I'll keep an eye on the handle." the station owner drew. Alan nodded and said "Thanks". And went to let his best friend out of the car. Reaching into the back seat he pulled out a leather lead and clipped it to the big dog's collar. Going the long way around the pumps, so she wouldn't have to negotiate the hose, he set off towards the indicated patch of ground. Tom watched the man take his black and white bitch to the spot he had pointed out. He used the proper term to refer to a female dog. He never like folks that avoided the word. It was a perfectly proper term to use. "She's a beauty." he thought to himself. "Damn big, even for a Great Dane." The sound of the filler pipe changed it's tune slightly and the filler clicked off. "I'll let that fellow finish it off." again to himself. Stepping around to the back of the car, he waited for the pair to come back. Trotting next to the man the Great Dane came up to him. The bitch stuck her head out to him to get a sniff. Moving his hand slowly out he let her nose puff at it. Then just as slowly he rubbed one of her ears. He quickly had the big dog leaning against him, nearly knocking him off balance. "Hey go easy on the locals." Alan scolded his friend. The Dane quickly sat, but kept her head close to the man. "Oh she's all right. Probably smells my bitch on my jeans." Tom assured the Danes owner. Alan smiled again and offered the leash to the fellow dog owner. "Could you hold her a second while I finish up the pump, then I can pay you." Tom took the offered lead and nodded. "She's sure a beautiful bitch.. what's her name?" "Alexandra, something, something... I never could pronounce her full kennel name, it's Russian. I just caller 'Alexis' for short." Alan explained. "Russian?" Tom's voice was curious. "Yea a friend of mine imported some Russian Great Danes into this country. They sure grow 'em big over there. I took one look at the parents and I had to have one. So about two years ago I got 'Alexis'". The pride could clearly be heard in Alan's voice. "Learn something everyday." Tom muttered to himself. Looking down he saw the massive head swivel to watch her owner as he stepped around the back of the car to the gas filler. When he disappeared from view as he bent down to put the cap back on. She stood up, and with tail wagging, she whined a bit. "I'm right here." Her owner reassured her. Alan walked around the car again to return to his waiting dog and took the leash when the Texan offered it back to him. "Care if we come inside? She's no trouble." "I recken so." The station owner drawled. "My Sadie likes to visit with other dogs." With that exchange, the three heading into the coolness of the building's interior.