Hey, guys. New name, same guy! Just thought I'd change this profile to match my blog name on Tumblr. If you wanna folliw me there or just check out my trashy posts, head on over to .com
With that out of the way, I can go ahead and say that this isn't really anything special. Blowing a dog is just low-key a massive fantasy of mine, so I decided to go a little in-depth about it here. Sue me. So yeah, this was just a little quickie I typed up in one shot before classes this morning.
Enjoy!
A Boy and His Dog
In and out.
In and out.
In and out.
The repetition entranced him. A groan would have sounded clearly from the boy had it not been muffled by the intoxicating meat in his mouth. His eyes had been shut for minutes, and opening them would result in merely a view of soft, white fur. Not that he was complaining - the Furfrou's fur was his favorite G-rated part of the dog.
The feeling enamored him. He had become attuned to each and every single pulse of life flowing throughout the rod. The sensation of every throb in his mouth drove the boy mad. Every inward push would send the heated meat deep in his mouth. The warm fur on the Furfrou's crotch met his hair consistently. Glancing slightly downward would greet him with a view of the furry pouch he so loved to feel. Velvety soft and pleasingly warm to the touch, it was senstive and the Furfrou would quiver whenever the boy groped or fondled it. Now they slapped against his chin with each thrust, in time with the swollen and solid bulb of flesh bumping against his lips. The hot, fur-matted body atop him that would always mount him with glee and expectation never failed to excite the boy. Losing himself in such feral desires always proved wonderful.
The flavor enthralled him. He knew exactly what his sweet Furfrou wanted and accordingly kept his tongue firm against the underside of the pulsing shaft. The meat had a salty flavor that left the boy craving more. Every moment when given alone time, he would let out the pup to service him; he was addicted to the delectable lubricant the Furfrou would generously spurt into his waiting mouth.
The sound intoxicated him. Every movement warranted a wet sliding sound. As he drew closer with each thrust, the Furfrou would huff and whimper upon every roll of his hips. Muffled moans echoed from the boy, the mere act of fellating his beloved dog erotic enough in itself to drive him over the edge. When the pup drew even closer, the muffled slapping of fur and skin against wet skin would increase. The only other sound was that of the boy tending to himself, the lubricant squishing and slicking his own five inches.
The climax enraptured him. He could always tell when his Furfrou went over. His thrusts became erratic, poorly timed. He lost all grace; he only felt the need to push himself over that steep precipice. After so much practice, the boy knew precisely what to do in such a situation. Upon feeling the intensity of the dog heighten, he would snake the hand previously working on the dogs scrotum to the firm knot at the base. He would wrap two fingers around the fleshy portion connecting bulb to base and apply as much pressure as possible. Every time, his cute little Furfrou would howl in euphoric bliss. The boy never cared whether or not the accompanying tents could hear them; all on his mind was the thin, salty, copious seed he would always drink down with pleasure.