Dog Heaven by Fantomfun
Disclaimer - All names, events, and locations in this story are completely fictional; any resemblance to real people is completely unintentional. If you are under 18 (or the legal age in your state/country) or do not like this kind of story please leave now.
6:30 in the morning. I stumbled barely awake through what had already become my morning routine. Somehow I found an empty stall in the shower room. I cranked the hot water and placed my palms against the marble. In a meditative state, with the water pouring over my head, I found myself thinking about what my roommate Tuffy had told me the night before about his family. It turns out his mother suffered from some sort of post traumatic stress thing from her childhood: she'd been dog deprived. And she'd figured out a way to lay the demons of her childhood to rest at the expense of her own children. Not only had she given my roommate a dog's name, she'd managed to convince her husband to let her name Tuffy's older sister Fifi and his older brother Rover. Some people's parents.
I toweled off. When I wiped my face I noticed the towel was a little rank. Time to do the laundry. I wrapped it around my torso and walked back to my dorm room. Tuffy was sitting on his bed, unshaven chin resting in his huge paws, looking dejected. He was spiffy in a black turtleneck, new jeans, and clunky black Docs--at seven in the morning. Nice guy, but what a poser. He was staring at the computer screen on his desk.
"What's the problem man?" I said without hesitating. We had a pretty close relationship, I guess, though we'd only known each other a month or so.
"Fucking poem for my creative writing class. It's a piece of shit." No wonder he was so down. He really fancied himself a good writer. He was probably being hard on himself and the thing was just fine--fine enough for a second-year creative writing class anyway. But he obviously needed some ego massaging.
We weren't shy around each other, so I undid the towel and dried my hair some more. It takes longer to dry my shaggy mop of black hair. I crossed to his side of the room and said, "How good does it have to be? Don't they believe in first drafts in that class?" He looked up and grinned, craters for dimples. That goofy smile, that spiky brown hair with the bleached tips, that diamond stud in his ear--he thought we were in L.A. or something, but I could see the cornfields from our dorm window.
I continued drying myself and started to throw a little bone, so I whipped my towel back on. I walked over to my own closet, got the deodorant out, and raised my arms over my head one at a time while I continued to talk him down.
"Hey, I read your other stuff. Good work. Pithy, pretty. I'm sure you've got more of the same there. Let me have a look." I put the deodorant back and walked over to his side of the room again. I leaned with one hand on his desk and stared at him, raising an eyebrow meaningfully, waiting for his permission to read.
"You wouldn't know a good poem if it slapped you in the fucking face." He perked up a little as he said that. In just four weeks I'd noticed that Tuffy comes to life when he starts swearing. After a good `fuck' his big green eyes really sparkle. "You might as well read it anyway. Shit. Can't hurt to have another person look at it before I hand it in." He waved dismissively at the computer screen.
I nodded, slid around the desk and bent over for a look-see. I read:
black sun, at the stroke of midnight
we are invisible in the darkness, you and i
with our dark souls...
P.U. I just pretended to read the rest. How did he come up with that crap? And that capitalization thing. You have to earn that sort of pretension. I made a `mmmm' sound so he'd think I was appreciating it. Then I said, "Pretty good so far." But no response from Tuffy.
I made like I was reading more. I thought I heard him snuffling--it almost sounded like a dog sniffing at something. Then I nearly jumped out of my skin when I felt Tuffy's hands on my calves! He quickly slid those big hands up my thighs and over my hips, the wet towel popping up and off like a champagne cork--and he plugged my asshole with his tongue. Really buried it.
I looked back, dumbfounded. What the fuck!? In the midst of the smacking and moaning which erupted behind me I heard him mumbling, "Thorry...shlrrp shlrrrrpp, uh, sorry man....shmack." His grip tightened and he pulled me back with those big mitts of his, hard against his early morning beard. His stiff tongue drove in deep. I held onto his desk for balance. What to do? I actually thought of trying to pull away. I looked back again. All I could see was the frosted tips of his spiky brown hair bobbing up and down. He continued mumbling away into my crack. "Oh...thrrlp...dude, uh uh, I've never ..... shlup shlup. I ust wanna...mmmm....thshlorry."
Sure he was `thshlorry.'
Then he really cranked my cheeks apart, lapping wide swaths up and down my crack like a crazed cow at a salt lick. He went totally farm animal on me.
Then I started moaning, too. It seemed like my only option until I could "uh, uh, fuck" decide what to do. Between my own panting and moaning and Tuffy's jabbering and slobbering, I felt like I was stuck in some cheesy porno. What the hell is he thinking?! Who knew he was hot for my ass? Jeeezuz!
He made a torpedo out of his tongue and rammed my hole face first. I steadied myself on his desk. The scraping of his whiskers on the tender skin of my ass really got me going. My dick was rock hard. When I was sure I could keep myself steady while Tuffy pistoned his tongue in and out of me, I let my left hand drift to my crotch. I was wet. I looked down under my belly and saw a filament of jizz stretching from the tip of my prick almost to the floor. Wow, I was really oozing! I started jacking myself. Guess I wasn't going to pull away.
I spread my legs a bit. I could really smell the spice in my Old Spice kick in as I strained to stay upright. Sweat was beading on my back. I looked under me again and saw those big black Docs. Tuffy's feet were huge, just like his hands. I strained another look back behind me and saw those big "uh, uh, holy FUCK" fingers digging into my hairy thighs. Unreal. I never imagined someone would want to do this to me. But the slick, slippery hardness of his tongue in my rectum, punching in and out, was awesomely real. And I didn't want it to stop. I just relaxed into the chow-fest Tuffy was having with my asshole. I even forgot to jack myself I was so lost in the bliss of it. I think I even said something breathless and goofy like, "Yeah man, eat me."
Then I worried if he was gonna lick on my balls, or start blowing me. I never did that before. I looked back again. All I could see was his perfect hair bobbing up over my ass, and all I could hear was "juice maaan....thum thum....juice maaaaan." What the fuck was he trying to say?
My legs felt like they were about to give out. I looked under me again. My toes were arched up, not even touching the floor. I started jacking myself again, faster than before, my hand all slick from my own leakage.
Then there was a knock at the door.
Tuffy stopped rimming my ass and said, "Shit. Darla." It was his short, plump girlfriend at the door, ready to pick him up for class like she did every Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday and Friday mornings at 7:45 AM sharp.
I was like a deer caught in headlights, breathing hard, wondering what would happen next. I finally looked back at him; what was he gonna do? I hoped he would just ignore her and keep tongue fucking my hole, but instead he reached for my towel on the floor. He swiped it across his face, jumped up, grabbed his jacket and his book bag and slid out the door without a word. Nothing. And he wouldn't shut up the entire time he was gnawing on my butt hole. Fuckin' A.
He was gone, but I didn't think twice. I jacked myself faster and faster. I pulled myself closer to his desk. I put a foot up on his office chair and leaned closer to the computer screen. My dick arched up over the top of the keyboard. The cool wetness on my butt cheeks reminded me of Tuffy's tongue, buried inside me just seconds ago. I jacked a little more and then I spewed cum all over his computer screen. Three big wads jetted over the keyboard and onto the flat panel. The rest of my jizz dribbled onto the keyboard. I tried to catch some in my palm so it didn't ruin the thing, but didn't have much success.
Then I grabbed my towel from Tuffy's bed. I was tempted to wipe the computer screen off; it just seemed like such an extreme gesture to blow a load all over your roomie's computer monitor. But then I thought about the last 10 minutes and settled for toweling myself off.
I got dressed, went to class, and spent every bored hour that day thinking about what Tuffy's reaction would be when he found my dried spunk; why he'd done what he'd done; why he didn't even bother to ask me first before cleaning my butt hole with his tongue. I wasn't particularly looking forward to talking with him about it. What the fuck does a person say? But it was obvious I'd have to say something that evening when we were both back in our room. Right?
I saw Darla coming out of the dorm's main entrance. Tuffy must be up in the room. Shit. Nothing had come to me and I had no idea what I was going to say. I got on the elevator in a daze, and got off on the 7th floor in a daze. I walked towards the room, hand stretched out to the door knob just like those idiot kids in slasher movies. Everybody knows some horror lurks on the other side, but I went for the door anyway. I guess I'm an idiot kid, too.
I walked in and Tuffy was working at his desk, head bowed over a book. He said "hey" without looking up. I said "hey" back. I threw my book bag on the bed and headed to the sink for a drink of water and to brush my teeth. I'd had pasta with garlic bread for dinner. I strained to see if Tuffy was looking at me by trying to catch the reflection, but nada. Could we just let this go and not talk about it? That would be fine for me I realized. Totally. I had too much to sort out--like why I grooved on that rim job so much--without worrying about his shit. So I unpacked my books, turned on my reading lamp, and sacked out on the bed, waiting for French theories of ethnicity and culture to put me to sleep.
I decided to squeeze in an early morning run, so I got up at 6:00 AM and headed out into a brisk October morning. After some stretching I got four miles in and made it back to the room by 6:45. Tuffy must have been up and showering because his book bag was on the floor and his bed was already made. He was a neatnik. Great to have as a roommate, but I wouldn't wanna be him.
I pulled off my damp shirt, shoes and socks, threw them in a pile on the floor, and laid on my bed and started doing crunches. I'd had enough after about 20 and I just sprawled out, legs spread, exhausted. I put an arm up over my eyes and got a whiff of my armpit. Whew. My deodorant had given out sometime yesterday morning during that little ass sucking session with Tuffy. I started boning up immediately just thinking about it. Man, I wanted more, and it blew my mind that I finally realized it. Okay, I'm 19,' I reasoned with myself. I get to have sex, right? That's what grown ups do. Sex sex sex.'
I'd had girlfriends in high school, but we hadn't done much more than some kissing and groping. I was focused on my grades and the sports I was in to--cross country, climbing, ultimate Frisbee. I just never worried about it. I jacked off three times a day. That worked for me. Till now. Man, I wanted Tuffy to bury his nose in my ass again!
I heard the door squeak open but I just kept my arm over my eyes. We didn't need to talk this early in the morning, and though I knew I wanted Tuffy to repeat yesterday morning's little exploration of my butt hole, I had no idea how to approach him about it. I could feel the breeze from the door dragging over my pit hair. I was a little cold but I didn't move.
Finally I took a peak at him from under my forearm. He was at his dresser pulling on those lemon yellow briefs of his--the only bright clothing I'd ever seen him wear. His hair was already perfect--he must have done it up in the bathroom. He was in a real rush, pulling on his usual faded jeans, dark sweatshirt, white socks and those big old Docs. I put my arm back over my eyes. I heard him walk over near the foot of my bed. What was he doing? I thought I heard him sniffing or snuffling. I peaked out from under my arm and saw him with his face buried in my wet t-shirt and socks. Shit.
And then he went totally hound dog. He dropped the whole sopping, stinking mess of my workout duds, bent over my feet, and engulfed the toes of my left foot in his mouth, sucking and slobbering, his tongue working feverishly between my toes. He was sucking and moaning just like yesterday morning, but this time he was cleaning my feet, slicking them up with saliva when just moments before they'd been all sticky with sweat.
He let go of my left foot, grabbed my right foot with both hands, the thumbs massaging the sole, pressing just under the toes to make them splay out--like I'd done to the family cat a hundred times. He wedged his nose between my big toe and--my index toe, or whatever you call it--took a deep breath. Then he started slobbering all over my toes again. I couldn't help but look, though I didn't move my arm away from my face completely. I thought I might maintain the illusion of not noticing. What a dork.
"Mmmmm......uck ahhh." I suppose he meant 'fuck yeah.' He was really digging my smelly feet. Who knew a guy could get so hot and bothered about another guy's stinky feet? I took a chance and wriggled my toes a little. He responded by doubling the speed of his tonguing and moaning. "Oh man Toby, shlrrrp. Uck my mouuu..." I jabbed my big toe in and out.
Now my dick was totally in pain. I was wearing a pair of black exercise briefs--like a cross between a jock and briefs--and my cock was stuck under the tight waistband. What the hell, I thought, and slid them down past my balls. For whatever it was worth, I brought my right arm back up to my face and started jacking myself with my left hand. Tuffy was lapping at the soles of my feet, alternating between left and right, fast and furious.
Then there was knock at the door. Darla! I whipped my arm away from my face and looked down to see Tuffy wiping his mouth on the dangling edge of my bed sheet. When he was done, he stood up, grabbed his book bag and coat and headed out the door. 7:45 sharp. My wet toes were already getting cold.
But I couldn't stop myself. I nearly had blue balls. I jacked hard, just a few strokes, and shot a couple of wads somewhere over my head. I think it all landed on the cream-colored cinderblock wall. Nobody would ever notice, and I didn't care.
Again, I spent all day in class and every minute of my work-study job thinking about my horny roommate and how to accomplish fucking with him good and proper. He obviously dug guys, though I thought he and Darla were more than just study partners. It didn't matter, he was hot for me and I wanted to go all the way, though I'd never actually thought through what that would mean.
Anyway, it was Wednesday, it was mid-week party night. Only the science geeks had labs on Thursdays. I could get him to go drinking with me, down to Shannon's Pub, get him all lagered up. I could get him to read me some of his poetry. Or I could tell him that I wanted him to keep doing what he'd been doing to my ass and feet, and I wanted him to keep doing it tonight. I was so ready.
I looked for him at the commons at dinnertime, and found him with Darla and her roomy, Sara. I sat down at their table and they all said 'hey'. I casually asked him if he wanted to go down to Shannon's later, and he said that he was going to some art opening with Darla. "Sorry man." He frowned a dopey frown and looked down at his food. I could have ripped his shirt off him right there in front of the whole cafeteria. Christ! I was totally uncorked.
I wolfed down my food and headed down to Tim's Liquor, bought two chilled six-packs of my favorite lager, and rushed back to the dorm room to log on. I'd never been much of a porn fan, but I started looking for guys doing it with guys. I got out the credit card, joined a pay service. I watched guys doing it all, stuff I never imagined, live on web cams. Fuckin' A. I realized I wanted to do all that stuff with Tuffy. I lost my shirt and pants and socks early on. I killed four bottles and blew my wad twice into my briefs, the last time after I saw five guys all rimming each other in a circle. Oh man. After I blew my wad the second time, I just laid back on my bed, hands behind my head. I had a little more brew and fell fast asleep.
The room was completely black, and there was a weight on my waist, pressing me into the mattress. My hands were pinned above my head, and Tuffy had his face buried in my armpit. He was slobbering and moaning as usual, and I couldn't understand a thing he said. But the beer had loosened me up good and I finally said, "Shiiiiiit man. Suck it. Suck it man. Oh shiiiiit." I was still pretty drunk. I'd had two more beers before falling asleep, and that's all I could think to say. He moved to my other pit, really digging in with his tongue, then lapping at it like an animal licking its ass. Back and forth, up and down, his razor stubble grating a little on the soft, tight skin of my pits. His big hands kept a good grip on me, and I could feel his cock digging into my crotch. I wanted to see it. I wanted to smell it. I'd never felt another guy's dick, and I wanted to hold his, compare it to mine.
I strained at his hands. I'm very strong myself, but I was too drunk and worn out from jacking off. He just kept moaning and licking and grinding his hard cock into my hard on. I couldn't even get any motion going, he was pressing down so hard on me. Then there was a tap at the door, and I swear I heard Darla say, "Did you find the rubbers?" Then he was gone and the room spun in the darkness and I fell back asleep, arms thrown above my head, my slicked up armpits cooling in the warm night air.
I dreamt my roommate was a fucking dog. A big black dog, with a long red tongue and a wagging tail that whipped back and forth so fast it was a blur.
I slept through Thursday morning. When I got up, Tuffy was gone. I headed to the cafeteria and thankfully didn't run into Tuffy or Darla. I retrieved my workout bag from the room and went to the rec center for a weight training session. I did high reps on the entire circuit, hoping to wear myself out. But instead, I got revved up.
After that, I did three hours at my work study job in the library. I ducked out a couple of times to surf on a computer in the stacks. You know what I was looking for. I went back to the reserve desk with a raging hard on both times, and it took at least 15 minutes for my boners to subside.
At 4 I went back to the room, hoping Tuffy was still away, but he was sprawled out on his bed with a copy of "Under the Volcano." He acknowledged me with a "hey", but didn't make eye contact. I gave him a "hey" back. I dug out my running gear and changed. I intended to exhaust myself before dinner.
I really kicked it, and I managed to get 5 miles in. The weather was getting cooler, and I had bit of a chill when I got back because my sweat-soaked clothes had gotten so cold. Tuffy was still reading, though he'd turned his back to the door and I couldn't see his face.
I stripped everything off and tied a fresh, dry towel around my waist. I laid on the bed with my arms above my head and waited. I spread my legs a little and waited. I wriggled my toes and waited. I exhaled loudly, and said "Oh man" at the same time. I wanted Tuffy to look at me. And exhausted as I was, I was boning up good under the heavy white towel. He didn't acknowledge me, so I said the first thing that came to me, which was a really stupid thing.
"So, what's up with you and Darla?"
"Nothing," he mumbled, his back still to me. Our desks faced each other and separated our beds. I couldn't see if he was still reading or not.
"You wanna do her?" I decided to go for it. I didn't know how I was going to get to there, to that place in the conversation where I could tell Tuffy I wanted his face buried in my ass, but I continued to wade towards the deep end. "It seems like you could do better."
He flipped onto his back and threw his book on the floor. He blew a raspberry and said, "shit." I kept going.
"You've got that hipster thing going on, though you kind of look like a Russian army officer when you wear those boots." He had a pair of lace-up Doc Marten boots, too--of course. "She's not really in your league," I insisted, hoping to finally get a rise out of him.
He got up off the bed and came to the foot of my bed and folded his arms over his chest. He considered for a few moments, then he finally spoke.
"Look, Toby, I just want to get on your cock." His face was so serious. But I exhaled, laughed, and said "wow", all at the same time. I was totally floored.
"Go ahead and laugh. Thanks," he said, peeved.
"No, dude, that's cool! Sorry. I just.." I started to shiver a little. "I jus--I mean--what does that mean exactly?"
"Are you kidding me? Aren't you into guys?" Tuffy said, still sort of annoyed.
"Uh, not until you started sniffing and licking every stinky hole I've got, like some slobbering rotweiler," I shot back. I was embarrassed, I guess, and feeling defensive. Who wouldn't be at a moment like that?
"What, so I made you gay?" he said, accusingly. I raised myself up on my elbows.
"I don't know, but I do want you to fucking `get on my cock' like you said."
"Well take your stupid towel off," he snapped. This was weird; we'd never been like this with each other before. He was probably a little defensive, too.
"No way. I'm already mostly naked here. It's your turn. I want to see what I'm in for."
"Wow. Okay. Really?" I don't know why he was so surprised, but I encouraged him.
"You can start with your sweatshirt. And make it slow, please. You're always rushing off in the morning, I never get a good look."
"You wanted a `good look'?" he said with a hopeful tone in his voice.
"Not really, but I fucking do now." He nodded and pulled his black sweatshirt up over his head, slowly, just as I'd asked. Though he had light brown hair with frosted tips on his head, his pits were filled with a silky, blonde carpet of fur. He was wearing a black wife-beater underneath. Even in his underwear he was a poser!
"Nice," I said appreciatively as he peeled off his undershirt. He looked like such a guy, muscled but not really cut. Substantial, smooth, big--like a rugby player.
"What's `nice'?" Tuffy said softly.
"Three days ago I never noticed guys--or girls. But just looking at you I could blow a load." I was breathing faster, deeper.
"Shit. That's honest. We've never really talked about sex before," he said as he unbuttoned his jeans. I shook my head and said, "Just get naked, man. Come on!"
He kicked off his Docs and slowly pushed his lemon yellow briefs and jeans down over his hips. I was panting like a dog in heat as his cock popped out. He bent over, then stood up as he tried to extricate himself from his jeans. He leaned left and right, left and right, trying to free his feet and keep his balance at the same time, and I was transfixed by every part of him as he moved, especially his balls and his fat cock. I'd never seen a hard one except my own. Dishwater blonde hair plunged down from his navel to his bush. His legs were really hairy, too, like a Greek faun, covered in light, brown-blonde fuzz.
Finally, he kicked the mass of jeans and underwear across the room. He bent over like he was going to take off his white socks and I blurted, "Are you gonna get on my cock or what?"
I'm not kidding, he actually said, "You mean leave my socks on?" I turned my palms up, shook my head and did a "whaah?" with my eyes really wide. He was stunned, like he'd been beaned on the head. So I tore open my towel. He snapped out of his daze and toppled forward onto the bed, his face landing in my crotch. He pried my legs apart and devoured my low-hangers. His tongue flicked at my hole, but he really worked my balls, slobbering and moaning as usual. I was still resting on my elbows, and I watched him do his thing, amazed.
When he went for my dick, it was slow motion, I swear. He looked into my eyes and I just stared back in wonder. He grinned and those dimples dented his face. He reached for my veiny cock, paused, and then swallowed me whole. It felt like he was a vampire sucking my life slowly, sweetly, out of me. If you've ever had anesthetic gas at the dentist, it was like that. I was totally high. And warm all over. And sort of numb, too.
Then I one-upped Tuffy and I said, "You're totally sucking my wiener."
I know.
My wet dick slapped against my stomach as Tuffy pulled off, eyes wide, laughing silently. He was laughing so hard he couldn't get a sound out. At last he was able to breathe and he said between low snorts, "What, are you 12? Weiner? Really?"
I was in shock. I didn't know what to say. He sat on his knees and leaned back and said in a really low voice, "Dude, suck my wiener. Come on, fucking suck my wiener. You can do it. It's a really tasty wiener, I promise." Okay, he was taunting me. I deserved it. But I decided I'd get him. So I flung myself on his fat motherfucker and went to town, though I'd only ever seen it done before on the internet. It seemed to work, because he said "fuuuuck" really loud and long. I grabbed on and worked my mouth and hands up and down. He smelled great. I was drunk on his smell. I hyper-ventilated and worked his dick at the same time. I was so high, it was like I was huffing paint or something. Pheromones. There they are.
He started oozing and I rolled the stuff over my tongue. It was fantastic. I sucked and sucked, pulling cum slowly out of his dick. It was like trying to suck down a really thick milk shake through a straw. I was breathless with sucking. I think he said something, but I didn't care. He pushed half-heartedly at my head a couple of times, then he thrust up into my face and spooge filled my mouth. I swallowed a couple of mouthfuls, but spunk got all over my chin and lips. I finally pulled off, wiping my face with the back of my arm.
Tuffy's eyes were closed, his chest heaving, his mouth open. There was cream all over his crotch. I jumped up from the bed and snagged my wet t-shirt from the closet and wiped him off. Then I sat back, waiting for him to say something. His head snapped forward, his eyes opened, and he said, "Fuuuck!" I knew he was happy.
"Okay man, your turn to be the dog. Turn around and get on all fours. And wag your tail." And you bet I did. He buried his face in my crack like before and worked my hole with that long tongue. He ran his big hands over my ass, like he was slowly polishing it. He got my cock totally drooling, then he jacked me at the same time as he rammed his tongue deep into me and in about 10 seconds I shot and shot and shot all over the quilt my grandma had made for me for college. Finally, it was seeing some action.
We sat naked at each end of my bed, his legs stretched out along my torso, big feet still in white socks resting under my arm pits.
"I take it you're not into Darla," I said. He shook his head `no.' "Why did you go out with her?" I asked.
"She's really bossy," Tuffy confessed, sounding a little defeated.
"Good to know," I said.
"This is awesome," he said, shaking his head. "I can't believe it, not at all. I just want to fuck and fuck. You know?"
"I know," I agreed. I didn't just want to fuck him though, I wanted to hang with him. I'd never really been close to anyone. Tuffy was totally a good guy, and he could say how he felt so easily. Maybe that would rub off on me.
"I'm gonna write a poem about it," he said.
And he did. And it was really good.
Thanks for the comments on my first erotic story a month or so ago in the High School section, "Wrestle-mania." It was totally fun to hear what people think. fantomfun@yahoo.com