Undercover Observations
This is my first ever story and I've been feeling shy about posting it, so please be kind.
No, it's not a piece of crime fiction, as the name might suggest. Instead, it tells the tale of a young fox witnessing a passionate encounter between Klaus the Dobie and Sheba, a sexay German Shepherd beatch. The involuntary voyeur has his eyes opened to a whole new world of canine filthiness and a thunderously good wank in the process.
I hope you enjoy this story as much as I did writing it. If feedback is positive, perhaps I'll try to do another one some time soon.
DISCLAIMER AND GENERAL DOWNERS:
This story is for adults only. Do not read it if you are pregnant, of a sensitive disposition, or you have strong religious or moral convictions.
Similarly, if you are one of the strange breed of furries who is turned off by non-anthro/feral prose and/or erotica of any description, then please go and read something else and not give the author a difficult time or make unfair assumptions about proclivities you believe he might have.
In respect of feral fans, who dig this stuff, the author shall not be held responsible for any wrist-sprain, wet keyboards, lucid dreams, or disappointments that may happen as a result of reading this story.
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Undercover Observations- A Foxy Tale.
I awoke with a start at the crashing noise outside my den. Something. No, wait... two... large somethings were cascading through the bushes; the bushes that formed the thicket and shielded my home from that abomination the humans call the 'park'. I was afraid. It certainly was a noise and as the splitting twigs and rustling leaves drew closer my instinct kicked in and sought to know who or what these invaders were. Was I in serious danger? I had to be certain that I was safe. With human's swallowing up the countryside and woodlands, many naturally rural creatures were now finding themselves forced to live in dangerous urban environments. As one myself, I had to be constantly aware of my surroundings and all the threats that come with such territory. Many of my kind had met grim ends through complacency and I had always sworn that I would never join them.
I crawled to the front of my den and cautiously peeked out and through the grass. I knew I was well concealed and there was no way at this point I going to give myself and my home away so early on and let whatever it was out there have a chance to attack me. I'd only expose myself in the process of taking flight, should it come down to that, but for now I had decided to stay put.
My eyes quickly homed in on the source of the noise: two dogs, who were about 15 feet away from me and now wrestling with one another. Very curious.
I didn't know any dogs and had always maintained a natural and probably healthy level of distrust towards them. The reason? Well, I knew, for example, that foxhounds were created by man solely to kill my kind and that seemed like a good enough basis to be fearful of all dogs, whose 'breeds' were crafted by enemy number one. It was a mutual disliking. Domestic dogs generally viewed us with the same suspicion with which we did them. We avoided the gardens they guarded and kept our distance from them when they were out for 'walkies'. They regarded us as primitive and uncultivated. A rabble of stinking and gratuitous chicken murderers. We saw them as soft, weak-willed and lacking in the initiatives for survival. In short, we had nothing to do with one another as a general rule. It seemed bizarre and sad really, for dogs remain like us in so many regards, despite their multitude of different appearances. But as they harbour this apparently natural affinity with humans- something anathema to us- the boundary between them and the realm of feral canines had long been established and lodged in place; They were to be considered untrustworthy- almost like traitors.
That being said, I personally had always kept the outright animosity shared by my peers at bay. Though I'd not openly admit it to other foxes, I actually found many dogs attractive. Of course, this was a natural taboo, but I have always suspected it to be more common than most foxes would care to accept. Granted, I'd still not trust dogs for a moment, but I would take time to observe them whenever possible. A large part of me wanted to shed the predisposition of prejudice and try to understand them better.
Observing these two, I recognised their breeds instantly: A 'German Shepherd' and a 'Dobermann'. The former a female and the latter a male. And I was immensely impressed by what I saw. No chubby Labradors or jowly Mastiffs were they. These were specimens in an entriely different league.
The female, Sheba, was an absolute beauty and a creature that simply oozed feminimity. Based on my limited knowledge, her striking markings were classic of her breed, but her extra dainty features and refined proportions elevated her well above other female German Shepherds I'd seen. Her coat was especially silky, soft and well groomed. She was obviously very well cared for and enjoying the prime of her youth. Her eyes were characterful and kindly, though there was a lascivious tinge to them that belied her otherwise gentle exterior. Her body was young, slim and lythe and she wore one of those 'collars'; a red one with a little name tag dangling from it. As a male, I could not help but take stock of her assets too. And why not! Guys do not generally stand on ceremony. They were there for all and sundry to see and knowing what I do now about Sheba, I very much doubt she would have minded. The wedge of her vagina was pink and moist, with the unblemished cream fur of her underside flowing outwards from its edges and downwards (or upwards?) towards a neat and dinky tailhole of matching colour. She was definitely on heat, being nicely swollen. In fact, I could smell it. My imagination naturally ran amok at this sight and with this thought. Being considerably smaller than her and a fox, I doubted I could ever be on her wish list of lovers, but I'd have been on and inside her in a heartbeat had I been blessed with the opportunity.
I could feel myself starting to get aroused at the thought of mounting this piece of forbidden fruit, my groin starting to engorge.
The Dobermann too was a total stunner. I'd find out later that his name was Klaus (and much later still I'd get to know him very well indeed, but that's a different story). At that juncture I'd never had an experience with another male, but I'd always wanted to and so I allowed my eyes to now to deviate from Sheba and feast on the strutting stud before me. I didn't feel ashamed- my interest in males was as strong as my admiration for females. It was part of me and so I was going to look at him without shame.
He was big! the biggest Dobermann I'd seen, in fact. Black and tan with a brown leather collar. His large body was compact, heavy-looking and highly muscled. He exuded power along every inch. His coat hugged his bulges as cataracts of light peppered him from above and then dispersed in blurred dashes of blueish silver and amber. His face was highly chiseled, desperately handsome and bore an expression of confidence and perhaps even a slight arrogance. I scanned along him, enjoying his defined musculature and then focused in on his goods. His sheath was plump and prominent and I could tell that his penis would be large, certainly in proportion to the rest of his bulk, if not bigger still. Between his legs bobbed a pair of pendulous, pert testicles, that seemed to strain against a truffle-coloured, shining scrotum. his grey tailhole was taught, refined and as inviting as that of his female companion, though larger, of course. He was the kind of dog that many hetero males would take a sneak peak at and silently envy snd one that gays would ache to be under or in.
I felt myself get even more turned on at the sight of such a prominent example of canine masculinity and allowed myself a few paw strokes.
At first I'd naively thought they were fighting as they rolled around, but by now I had realised that they were at play. Actually, it was more than just that: it was evidently sexual.
If they were to mate, I felt certain that this was going to be a great show and that, as I couldn't escape without drawing attention to myself, I might as well succumb to the naughtiness in me and watch them consummate their evident lust for one another. I mean, it seemed as though they didn't know I was here and it would have been a shame to disturb them in any way now- or so I told myself. I'd not indulged in any sort of voyeurism before but sex between them seemed pretty inevitable and an emergent and highly seductive prospect. Perhaps I saw it as compensation for their disturbing my sleep, I don't know, but I smiled to myself with excitement and watched on.
Sheba was now under him when their jaws locked- finally pinned down by his weight and clamped firmly in place by rigid, uncompromising forelegs. She was actually struggling to free herself and was obviously a bitch who didn't like to cede control, but her chances of a successful escape were minimal under the massive bulk that was pushing her into the bed of soft leaves that would form the platform for their love-making. The Dobermann knew that she was powerless and relishing his display of dominance and machismo, allowed himself a quick, self-congratulatory smirk before returning to the kissing. Her struggle quickly relented and their postures relaxed into passionate embrace as he now lay on top of Sheba, taking care not to crush the breath out of her.
Without warning she suddenly withdrew her mouth from his and with a quizzical expression looked at him.
'Can you smell foxes, Klaus?'
Fuck, would they find me? I stopped pawing myself that instant and lay very still, my heart pounding (or was that down to the excitment?) and doubt flooding my mind. Should I have run away? What would they do if they found me? Should I lie down and pretend to be asleep and plead ignorance of their presence should they investigate my den?
Luckily, Klaus seemed completely disinterested in the question, doubtless eager to get on with the task of fucking his bitch's brains out. He gave her a bemused look and then flicked his tongue across her nose.
'Yes, but there's probably an old den somewhere around here. Any fox who might have seen us would have probably scarpered. Now come on... gorgeous... let me (kiss) pleasure you (kiss)', he responded.
Instantly forgetting the question of foxes, she gasped and arched her back as he slid his tongue into her left ear and then, after shifting to lie beside and in the opposite direction to her, proceeded to plant a line of loving kisses and playful bites down her luxurious throat, chest and belly, closing in on the damp pinkness of her yearning, delicious quim. He lingered on her belly, giving each of her nipples a series of considered, orbiting licks that drew saliva-slickened halos in her velvety fur. Her hind legs, now splayed, were quivering in anticipation of his impending touch, her neck was outstretched, her mouth open and moaning. She was in a state of total abandonment and his for the taking.
As the Dobermann had reached her belly she had lowered a forepaw to his sheath and deftly peeled it back to reveal his beast of a prick, which she was now stroking very gently. It was already huge and though I could see it was not yet fully erect- and wouldn't be until his first cum- it was still a sight to behold and even more impressive than I'd thought it might be.
'Oh, you're such a big boy, Klaus', She sighed, echoing my thoughts on his doghood.
He emitted a semi-buried noise of approval at this remark, which probably did nothing more than confirm what the proud Dobermann already knew about himself.
With his tongue now in her and working away, Klaus lifted his lower body up on his powerful hind legs and brought them to stand on each side of Sheba's face.
'Why don't you try and make him bigger still, my girl', he paused momentarily to suggest.
Without the need for any more prompting she ushered him down to a semi-squatting position and began to deliver an epic blowjob. Her tongue first circled the dewy, damp tip and then slid up and down the shaft's more than considerable length before she opened her jaws and engulfed as much of his meat as she could. From then on she varied her routine, so as to keep him more than happy, but to not arouse him too quickly; she wanted to conserve her own pleasure for as long as she could too. She would suck him for a while and then part from his most sensitive zones to lick and nibble his leathery balls or kiss his rigid tummy. All the time her paws would be on him in some way, either stroking his knot or inside leg or cupping his dangling nuts. She would also frequently have to break from this regime of servitude to cum, clearly unable to concentrate as the overwhelming sensation of her orgasm slammed through her. During the ten or so minutes that they sixty-nined, I counted her tip over no less than ten times. I was confident in this tally. Her climaxes were completely obvious, culminating in a gasp (or some other appropriate signal), a squeeze with her forepaws and a full bodily shudder. Klaus was pretty much fully in control of how often she came and would slow and fasten the pace of his activities entirely at whim. He had his paws joining in on the action now. He'd been tickling her tailhole with a claw from early on, but now resting his upper body's weight on both of his elbows, he was able to use his other paw to carefully manipulate her vagina. They were certainly a skilled pair who knew eachother's bodies extremely well. Clearly not first-timers.
By now, I was well and truly fired up. I had nestled myself nicely into the sand at the mouth of my burrow and was pawing purposefully, being sure to remain quiet and never letting my gaze deviate from the scene before me.
I wasn't sure how this was all going to play out. Was she going to suck him off to the very end or would she allow him to cum and then, when they would normally have formed the tie, fuck him? Was this just a warm up and they were going to screw and then tie? I didn't know.
I wouldn't have to wait that long to find out, however. Klaus' breathing had now quickened to a near frenzied pant, his legs were shaking and his concentration on her pussy was waning. His face displayed the undeniable expression of a guy getting ready to spaff big time.
'Fuck, Sheba, Fuuuck.', He grunted in his rich, resonant voice, as he lifted his dripping muzzle away from her sopping wet pussy and closed his eyes. Appreciating the proximity of his orgasm, she was working on him now with great purpose, delivering deep, sloppy sucks to his dick. He rolled onto his back for more comfort when he came and she followed him, her mouth never once leaving his penis, her paws continuing to vigorously massage the red shaft and burgeoning knot.
Klaus came with a series of cracking gushes. His body shook and convulsed, his eyes scrunched up and he grunted, panted and growled his way through the ten or so streaming jets of stinking cock snot that pumped out of his rigid pork sword. Sheba tried to swallow as much as she could, but after only the second spasm, she was unable to keep up and so she simply let his semen leak out of her mouth and onto his belly. Up until now, it was only Sheba's heady juices I'd really noticed, but now there was the fecund tang of the Dobermann's semen joining the olfactory cacophony that pounded through the air.
The immediate build up to his orgasm was such a sight, that I myself started to cum a split second after Klaus began dropping yoghurt. I hardly matched the volume of the Dobermann's ejaculation, but irrespective of my smaller size, I still made a nice puddle and the sensation was truly intense. I had to really struggle not to make any noise. With glazed eyes, I gurned, puffed and panted as quietly as I could, but I needn't really have worried- my friends were too involved in their own enjoyment to hear anything and Klaus was making enough noise for the pair of us.
My and Klaus' cocks then grew bigger. As with all male canines and under normal and boring mating circumstances, it would have been now that we would typically form a tie with our partner in order to empty our prostate glands with rhythmic, electrifying spurts. Our pricks reddened further as they became increasingly engorged and our knots expanded. The Dobermann's willy was now scarily large. Viewed out of context, his cock would have hardly been an item of beauty, with the angry red streaks of its multidudinous veins and the bulbous, sinewy nature of its shape. However, at that point I could think of fewer things more sexy, apart from perhaps Sheba's bits, which were now dripping profusely, partly with Klaus's spit, but also from her own excitement.
'Go on, fuck her, boy', I urged Klaus.
'Oh baby. Please put him inside me', Sheba pleaded, with a come-hither look and yet more targeted caresses from her tongue (she'd only stopped sucking him for but a minute to 'rest her jaw').
He gave an obliging smile and doghandled her until she was poised over his soaking wet belly and boner, which was now spurting merrily. After fine-tuning her alignment, she sat down onto him very slowly and as the length of his prick sank into her, forcing her pussy wide to envelope his thick girth, she came again. It was with a serious crescendo this time, overwhelmed as she was with the sheer size of his cock and the drag of it along her clit. She couldn't get the knot in. It was simply too engorged, but this was OK. They had clearly fucked this way before. He was going to continue to thrust into her up until the last drop of nut muck had been drained from his system.
And this he did. They started with her riding him. They kissed and rocked, his bollocks slapping up and down and his arsehole pulsing as he delivered his further installments of cum. The original pool on his stomach had now been spread all over them and was coursing down towards his bumhole. It was a sticky, slimy mess and I was loving it.
They then did it on their sides with a lot of throat biting and leaves sticking to them. Then he mounted her in the conventional canine mating position. He accidentally drooled onto her muzzle from above for which she gave him a playful, rebuking nip- as if it mattered. Then she was on her back as he drove into her with deep and purposeful thrusts. Every time his cock came out of her completely there'd be a accompanying leak of spunk. His muscles flexed, sinew rippling his legs.
They sped things up, then they went slow. It depended largely on Sheba's orgasms, which Klaus was still hell-bent on controlling. At times his nuts could crack against her and their flesh would slap and then they'd hardly thrust at all. There seemed to me method to all ofthe madness though. At one point, Sheba looked like she was crying, so intense were the sensations and the emotions tearing through her.
I continued to spray my prostate gob the whole time. It was great. I was having so much fun and at times it almost felt as though I was actually between them. A weird sensation with my masturbation matching the rhythm of their love making and following their carnal ebbs and flows.
When it was finally over, they collapsed in a soggy, shaking mess onto the leaves and snuggled up to one another, too tired to talk or clean themselves up and dazed from the experience of such intense and well-sustained pleasure. They didn't need to converse. Their sex had said everything.
I myself was feeling pretty jaded from all the excitement too. I smiled at them and knowing they'd probably cuddle up and go to sleep, I cleaned myself as best as I could and then curled up to rest as well.
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I awoke about two hours later. The sun had moved, but there was a shadow hanging over my home that would have not normally been there at this time of day.
My world came into focus and there, standing just outside and peering down at me was Klaus. His absurd tail was wagging (after a fashion) and he smiled in a reassuring way. I nervously smiled back, completely at a loss as to know what I should do or say. Sheba seemed to have gone.
He lowered his handsome head to meet mine and gave me a friendly lick. God, he reeked of sex. God, he looked awesome. God, I wanted him to take me.
'Thanks for watching, my foxy friend, but next time I insist you join in a bit more' he whispered to me, his warm breath batting my ear.
With a wink and another loaded grin, he turned his tasty behind to me, offering me one last tantalising view, and then hopped into the bushes.
'Next time?' I asked out loud, wondering what he had meant, but of course there there was no answer except for the sowing of trees, the distant sounds of the city and the lingering smell of an afternoon well spent.
The End
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