A Pirate's Life for Me! - The Rising Tide
Authour's Note: While this story does contain everything tagged, it is very mild so if you are looking for hardcore this is not it. That said, it is the only coyote/pirate porn on the whole of SF at the moment so... No underaged readers please.
Edit: This one contains an account I bet Rollo would rather didn't come out. He has done a lot of things in his time he wasn't proud of but he can't decide if this is one of them. In either case, I have put it up here because he gave me permission to write about his life and I intend to do so for your enjoyment ;)
Something you should know is that even though he feels old, Rollo is really just under middle-aged. His life has taken its toll, however. He feels ancient sometimes, a fact I hope I brought across clearly enough.
That said, I will now leave you in peace to read. Enjoy!
Part 2 - The Rising Tide
"So what is it that you did back home, if you don't mind me asking?" The coyote was loud, brash, and American.
"It was a long time ago now and home has been a strange concept to me since I was very young. If you're asking what I did before I joined the crew of the _ Darius Mead , I was a businessman." Rollo didn't mind Americans, not really. They were painful at times but generally harmless. He didn't even mind all the questions. After all, he didn't _have to answer.
"You! A businessman? Nah." The coyote punched his arm playfully. "Seriously?"
The black mongrel couldn't help but grin. "Yep." He nodded sadly. "I sold silk dyes to little old ladies and when my boss got locked up for fraud I took over the company. We were raking in a cool three mil a month."
"You're kidding me! So what happened? I mean, how'd you end up out here in the forsaken backwater that is Grum?" His yellow eyes widened with interest. He shifted on his seat, restless and excitable. He was young, Rollo could see, no more than a new-grown pup out looking for his fortune.
"I had a run-in with an old friend." He sighed and hauled himself off the barstool. "But that is another story." The sandy male looked disappointed as the stocky sea-dog turned to walk away. Rollo did not fail to notice. Something in him felt for this boy, travelling the wide world on his own with no friends. His eager-to-please attitude would get him into many scrapes before he learned to survive out here. "Well, you coming?" The coyote put his head to one side, confused. The mongrel ignored him."Jim, send three rounds over to my booth and then keep them coming." The bartender nodded and Rollo smirked at the way the jackal's face lit up. He led the way to the booth and settled down on one of the worn velveteen couches, gesturing to his new-found friend to do the same. They settled down opposite each other.
His companion waited for Jim to leave before chugging at his whiskey and winking at the rugged black pirate. "This is good suff!" He might be an American, but he was a funny American. They laughed and chatted and barked out loud, making the other patrons stare at them despite the hubbub of hookers and pirates and drunkards that typified the Fern Inn.
*
"No, really! He just sat right there, face covered in flour, and roared with pain. It sounds terrible but it was so funny. We just ran as fast as we could and hid. Jer told me afterwards he didn't come back to class for a week. They had to have some lame substitute teacher!" The coyote was slapping his tail against the seat in amusement, tears of laughter running from the corners of his crinkled almond eyes.
Rollo wiped the wooden table where a bit of rum had splashed as he sputtered with laughter. His eyes went to the clock above the bar. "Well, would you look at that! I'm due back on the Darius in a few hours."
The sandy male twisted his head and gaped in surprise. "Is that the time? My Dawg! Wait... youre leaving?"
Rollo nodded. "We set sail for Illia at dawn."
"Well. That, that sounds like... fun." His ears hung a little.
The black mongrel sniffed. Something strange was in the air, something that made him a little uncomfortable. He sighed. "Walk me to my ship?"
The younger animal's eyes shone amber in the lamplight, his whiskers twitched a little. "Sure, I reckon I could do that."
They left the Inn, stopping only to pay the bill. There was little to no light outside, with the cloudcover over this island it was to be expected. The dog hung back a bit, admiring the soft reddish-fawn of the jackal's coat, the way his hips swayed as he walked. He had been at sea for a very long time and had learned only a few months into his travels that out here there was no sexual orientation. You took what you could get, and this little coyote had a very fine ass.
They were at the dockyards, now. Crates and shacks and ships surrounded them, tallow candlelight pooling around doors, inky shadows melting the landscape into one great unknown. He decided to take his chances and wuffed softly. The object of his sudden lust turned to look at him, whiskers quivering. He stopped walking and they faced each other, noses nearly touching. "You know..." His voice was gruff. "I still have time before we sail."
The American made no move to back away. "Is that a fact." His hot breath huffed onto the older male's muzzle, leaving it damp.
"It is. Another fact is that you talk too much." The yellow eyes before him flickered for a moment and he could have sworn the breath on his muzzle had sped up. He leaned forward so their noses were touching and lapped at the toothy maw in front of him.
"I've been wishing you would do that all night."
The dog made a pleased rumble and wrapped his arms around the little tease. "Shut-up." he growled, covering the coyote's muzzle with his, pressing at the whiskey-laden tongue he found there. He got a look of surprise and a sultry shiver in response. He pushed himself against the smaller male, shoving him into a wooden wall and squeezing on those delightfuly firm cheeks. He felt his erection rubbing against the hardness in the jeans of the skinny male he had sandwiched against the hut and ground harder, eliciting a panting moan from them both.
The sandy male's hands crept to the drawstring on the black dog's canvas trousers but he intercepted them and grabbed the skinny wrists, breaking off the kiss to turn his prey around, pulling his jeans painfully down over the bulge. The prairie wolf's arms were now pinned to the wall by strong black paws on his wrists, his member rubbing on the wall, unguarded tailhole exposed to the world. Rollo moved the fluffy tail aside, licking his lips a little at the pink centre he saw there. It winked nervously at him. He chuckled a bit, shoving his fingers around into the talkative maw, grinning at the tickly sensation of his digits being sucked and lapped at by a wide coyote tongue. He liked the way his new sub was nibbling at the tips and it gave him ideas for later. First though...
His wet paw circled and stroked, slipping a short way past the welcoming ring before rubbing the strip of flesh between ass and testes. The coyote started to say something but Rollo wrapped his free arm around his neck, cutting off his air supply until he started to struggle a bit. He kept his arm there but loosened it, confident that the submissive male would not try to talk again. He was happy to note that the hand-paws he had held against the wood were stil firmly in place. A good boy, this one. He went back to rubbing and playing, making the firm buttocks under his care squirm a little. He licked his paw to make sure it was wet enough and slathered it over the nethers of this tasty young boy. His tip was poking a few inches from his sheath when he finally undid his pants and pulled them down a short way. It didn't take long for the full length of his hardness to come out and greet his paw, swelling even more as he stroked it. He pressed the rubbery tip into the smooth hole, feeling the ring of muscles contract and tug at him. He bucked himself into the strong flesh, driving as deep as he could. The coyote gasped, wincing a little but shoving back against the red-hot member impaling him anyway. He moaned and whispered 'yesss'. The dog's arm tightened around his throat, a warning growl in his ear. The message was clear: Do not speak. He whined, thrills running through him at the feel of this assertive mongrel slamming into him. His own hard member was crushed against the wall, aching for release.
They were like that, panting and bucking and groaning, for a good fifteen minutes before Rollo started to feel even more need than before. He gripped his arm tight around the soft neck, wrapping his other paw around the erection he knew would be there. He drove himself faster and harder into the backside he had conquered, pulling almost all the way out before sending steaming red meat drilling into the stretched hole again. His paw pumped at the pulsing vulpine cock as he humped, aching for the tightness he felt to go away and wanting desperately to flood the sandy runaway's insides with hot cum.
He felt the surge at last, not caring that the coyote was choking under his heavy arm as he shot lashings of scalding liquid into him, feeling the cock in his paw jerk and soften as it painted the wooden wall. He stood still for a moment before pulling out and taking his arm away from its chokehold. The coyote gasped for breath, twitching and gagging for a second before slouching down against the wall, panting hard. He looked up to see a thick doggie member in his face and obediently licked at it, cleaning all the tasty juices off it until it retracted into its furry sheath. His eyes sparkled as he looked up at his date for the night. Rollo leaned down and took the paws held out to him, helping the weak-kneed male to his footpaws. They kissed for a few moments, tasting their combined fluids and holding each other up.
After a while they both pulled their pants back on and headed for the Darius , the jackal walking a tad more daintily than before. The gangplank was down and they could see lights and activity on board. The Darius was getting ready to set sail. The black mongrel turned to his bashful companion and blinked.
"Well, it was good to meet you Rollo. If you ever want anything from me again, I'd be more than happy to oblige." The sandy-coated male's eyes were still slightly glazed.
"There is one thing."
"What?"
"You could tell me your name."