Red-Headed Mutt - Robbing Inches
#2 of The Red-Headed Mutt
_Toonces, the Driving Cat, the Cat Who Could Drive a Car
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"Goddamn boy," the skunk admired, "You're robbing me of inches with an ass like that. I'm not hurting for girth but I gotta get every inch out of this I can."
The mutt he was talking so candidly to was soaking wet, his usually messy red hair streaming into his eyes, the steaming locker room shower having drenched his long fur The steam kept him warm though he was now out of the stream and bent over a low wall where showerheads were fixed in the middle of the large tile room. The wall was a perfect height for him to throw his arms over and lean his weight onto. His Speedo was draped on the wall next to him, a now unnecessary piece of stretchy fabric. It had done its job to attract the skunk's confident eyes - which never did seem to worry whether or not the mutt caught him staring. Naked, his ass was hardly any more visible that it was in that scant bathing suit. Then as now they bulged out from under his husky tail like the jell-o that had helped make them. They certainly fit on his body which curved generously like a lazy mountain road. Soft fur on a soft body, and yet none of it sagged, none of it drooped, none of it seemed like a pound more than his body was naturally meant to carry. It was an airy kind of weight, the kind that didn't look like it weighed quite what it really did until a paw could verify its mass.
That's what the skunk was doing, his own carved body antipodal to the mutt's. He had once been more the mutt's figure, though the extra foot or so let him distribute the weight a little more easily. But hey: Even if you work the weight off, you never work off the desire for a nice pair of chubby buns. In fact, the way he pawed and plied those cheeks could only be characterized as the fever of a man having rediscovered something once lost. He had his eyes closed, his body pressed against the mutt's back, indulging himself in the full form. He wrapped his arm's around and squeezed the tummy; he pressed himself into those soft cheeks and marveled at how much they gave, how he could dry hump the muttering mutt as if the cheeks were trampolines. He remembered the natural comfort of a bountiful ass he hadn't found since he'd started nailing twinks. His dick was leaking already, as if even it was remembering the old times riding fat asses into tight holes.
"You know I used to have an ass like this before I got all muscly and stuff. Never did have the pleasure of fucking it, myself, obviously. But you'll make a perfect stand-in," the skunk said, perhaps coming off a little more objectifying that he meant to. His tact skills were temporarily short circuited by the wave of eagerness threatening to overtake him.
"Sh-" The mutt started. He was stuttering already. "Shouldn't we go somewhere we won't get caught?"
"No," the skunk said flatly, and squeezed the dog all at once, practically begging to have his judgment defied.
"Oh- okay," the redhead stammered. His common sense had been short-circuited as well, and the skunk's confidence in their privacy was all he needed. A dick was way too close to his ass for him to start pursuing questions too diligently. He could measure it was with his cheeks: Prohibitively thick. One might think the skunk had worked himself into shape just so he could nail twinky guys slutty enough to take his girth. The dark, muscular man hadn't lied when he said he didn't have inches to spare, but the mutt could care less, he was a man with a tight hole for thick cocks and anything you could measure with a straight ruler was inconsequential. If his cheeks kept the skunk from pounding away as well he wanted, he knew he had two paws for spreading.
The skunk dragged his paws down the mutt's generous body as he lowered himself down to face the ass personally, having to soak the sight of it all in for a moment. He might have shed a tear. The tender moment was shortlived, and wasn't itself even quite as tender as the cheeks he buried his paws onto, spread open, and squeezed his muzzle between.
His tongue teased around the outside for as long as either could stand it: Both skunk and mutt were aching for that slippery muscle to slide in, but the skunk continued to tease the mutt and himself with a few soft laps before giving into his impulses with a growl and practically burying his nose inside. He slurped and licked with a surgeon's touch, able to make the mutt writhe and wriggle as if the chubby fellow was a puppet on his tongue. He didn't have to throw his voice: The mutt was loud enough on his own, his moans echoing off the tile, his curled tail wagging so fast you could almost hear it swishing, tapping against the skunk's forehead with each exuberant wave.
It wasn't a short stay. The skunk belied any fears of being caught by taking his time between the cheeks, working fingers into the hole as he took breaks to nibble the base of the tail, or wrap himself around the chubby body to suck the mutt's own thick cock wretched in red hair. It curled almost as tightly as his tail. And so the skunk did his duties: Tongue, one finger, tongue, two fingers, and so on... by the fourth finger he was really only indulging himself in the opportunity to suck down some of the mutt's precum that slid down the shaft of his cock. He sucked it right out the furry red balls where it collected, it drove him so wild. Firecrotch. Holy shit firecrotch. He could pick red curlies out of his teeth all week, he didn't care, he just couldn't get over the inherent sexiness of red pubes that seemed to say "I'm fucking amazing" all on their own.
Finally, with a heavy heart and heavier balls blue from his own extracurricular teasing, the skunk rose back to his feet, towering over the stout mutt who stuck his ass out as he leaned against the wall. He didn't wait to saddle up, placing his fat cock between the luscious cheeks, and feigning a few thrusts only to hear the mutt gasp in expectation. He tousled the mutts soppy red hair just to tease.
"Ask me how big I am." It wasn't a question that really needed to be asked. Both had seen it. Both knew it hung from his legs like an anchor. Its ebony skin gleamed with pre, and the mutt only lamented the fact he wouldn't be able to admire it while it fucked him. He panted laboriously, as if confused by the question, or at least, too enveloped to worry with it.
"C'mon," the skunk pleaded as he tapped his cock under the mutt's tail. "Ask me how big I am."
"H-How big is- are- y-y-you?"
The skunk rammed his cock inside the tight hole with one quick, almost violent thrust.
"You tell me, sweet cheeks," the skunk said with the subtlety of a cannonball through plate glass.
But the mutt wasn't really in the mood for conversation just then. His eager yelps and groans were flooding the miraculously empty room, drops of water shaking from his muzzle as he arched his back as a reflex to the sudden invasion. His toes curled in the shallow water, his teeth gritted, and when he finally found the capacity for speech, he said only "Oh- Oh- Oh-" as if he was somehow surprised the skunk had spread him open so wide.
And it had spread him open quite wide, indeed. His hole was stretched thin to accommodate it all, but he wasn't bemoaning the fact. He was a size queen at heart. His head was light with the sensation of it all: Not just the physical feeling of his hole being pried open by a monster shaft, but also the simple idea that he was stretching so wide, that he was being borne into with a cock that should come with warning and wasn't ready to call an ambulance. What could be hotter? Not only was he being fucked, but he could take a kind of pride in the fact.
The skunk bit the mutt's neck as he humped, took turns between nibbling gingerly at the red nape or even taking more substantive bites, not quite breaking the skin but sure as hell leaving his mark. This too made the mutt arch his back, curl his toes, and all that. And it was more: The skunk still had his arms wrapped around the perfect body (he would admit later that if he had a chubby body like the mutt's he never would have bothered with the weightlifting). And he was throwing all his muscle into those cheeks, as if he wanted to leave his shape permanently indented in them, though he would never really dare threaten such a work of art.
"Hey redhead," he said curtly, "Spread 'em."
The mutt spread 'em and moaned, the skunk now hitting a spot like chewing Winterfresh and taking a drink of water. "Oh my God," he prayed, "Keep hitting that."
"Don't worry, I'll keep hitting it..." the skunk promised.
"Keep hitting that!" The mutt demanded breathlessly. The skunk picked up his pace, now pounding recklessly into that spot, teasing and torturing it, feeling the hole tighten around him.
"I've got it, I've got it," the skunk repeated almost to himself, digging his paws into the soft tummy and taking a rough bite out of the mutt's neck, right where the red hair became brown fur.
"Oh God Oh God Oh God keep it there keep it there," the mutt begged, spreading his cheeks further as the skunk pounded diligently, his massive cock performing less like the blunt object it was and more like a precision tool.
This time the skunk didn't reply. He rocked his hips like they were turned by gears powered by a steam engine. He fucked that fat ass for all he was worth and all he knew how to do.
"Fuck! Fuck! Fuck! Fuck... Fuck!" the mutt moaned, the pathways between the speech center of his brain and his tongue completely destroyed. He started to draw the word out. His whole body started to shake. The skunk bit the back of his neck harder. He started to feel weak in the legs, which rocked under him, the skunk holding him up. He started to get tunnel vision, or at least a brand of it you get when suddenly everything seems focused on your dick. He felt everything in his dick. Every pump he felt in his dick. Every nibble he felt in his dick. Every squeeze he felt in his dick. And finally, his dick shot back. He launched a load onto the tile that nearly splashed, the seed starting to roll down in thick runnels while he was still cumming, still squeezing the thick cock with his ass, spurting onto the wall as the skunk began to spurt into him.
He might have overlooked the sensation in his ecstasy had the skunk not groaned with the deepest of satisfaction before growling out "Fuck, fuck, too soon-" The timing was perfect, though. He was filling the mutt just as the mutt was emptying himself. The skunk shot his first rope as the mutt was shooting his last, his senses slowly returning to himself as he unf-ed with the skunks ever powerful thrusts. His ass filled as his balls emptied, the mutt let out a long and loud sigh, then shivered in the skunk's arms, soaking in the feeling of being pumped full of cum with all the thoughtfulness and delight that post-orgasm sensibility allows.
The skunk was latched onto him, would be the only way to put it, clinging onto the chubby mutt with everything that could possible be used to hold, his nose buried in that fiery, wet, messy hair. His dick throbbed and spit for a few more seconds before resting finally, still as deep in that ass as it could go.
He pulled out and sat down under the stream of water, inviting the mutt to lean back against him. They rested there together, the skunk's ever curious paws still exploring the mutt's body.
"I could fall in love with you," the skunk said anticlimactically.
"You really think that?" The mutt asked innocently, turning back to gaze into the skunk's eyes.
"I don't know. Let's get lunch or something and see if I can still stand you enough to fuck you when we get back to my place." The skunk said, tussling the mop of red hair on the mutt's head. It had to be tussled. It was, after all, red hair.
"I'll get the towels."