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This is a furry adult story containing gay males in sexual situations as well as explicit language and descriptions. No kids are allowed so this story is only for those who are 18/21 or whatever the age is at your legislation. If you are not of the legal age, you shouldn't view this story because you might lose your innocence. Also, by browsing this story you have done so by your own consent and wish to view such material. if you do not wish to view such material you should leave this site immediately.

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Hello to all!

This sixth part - WOOO!! - of the Bent Over Behind the Barracks series is a special story for me since it commemorates my TWENTY-FIRST published furry story here on SoFurry!

This story is also special in the sense that as of recent, the first installment of Bent Over Behind the Barracks has become the most favored story of mine here on SoFurry, surpassing my old record holder "Beta". So a big WOOO! for that as well.

This story is dedicated to all my readers, watchers and especially those who have taken the trouble of commenting and making my day each time they've done so. It really means the world to me to hear about you all since it also helps me to improve my writing!

So here we go, for some of my regular commentators:

Ruin3d

KaleShadowWalker

Tigre Kageyoshi

FalconMage

OcelotRevolver

RPMS

DeabloDeLosNoche

balt11

Andreas Silva

Grin

Glyn

Dark Alpha Wolf

Skiewolf

James Matrix

Silentmuzzle

Kai Nadare

...and many other one-time commentators and ALL my readers! If you weren't mentioned doesn't mean you aren't luvved ;)

If you like the story, why don't you take a second and vote, fav or comment when you're done? Cheers!

Happy pawings!

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_ Fort Chipmunk, 1962 _

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It was another Friday evening at the military base of Fort Chipmunk, about 1900 hours, and the morale must have been at an all time record low.

Only an hour earlier we had been lined up by the gate outside the premises and waiting to be taken for a fun night out to the nearby town.

We stood there all in our primped up jackets and army issue pants, hyped up, and Arnett had been combing his neat golden headfurs into optimal girl-luring waves, and privates Shippy and Tecker were already arguing about who was going to either score more tail or drink more whiskey during our night leave. A sense of excited waiting permeated our rowdy bunch, and I, too was looking forward to the leave.

The reason for my excitement stood four furs down on the line, a tall, buff Dobie whose pants looked like they might burst at the seams if he decided to bend his knees since his sizeable all-muscle ass was making them bulge dangerously. His belt buckle did a similarly poor job in concealing a similar sizeable lump at the front of those same pants, under which I knew his very large and thick sheath was located tantalizingly hidden from view. He stood there with his paws in his pockets that seemed to be straining to fit those fisted limbs within them, and a sort of a disinterested expression covered his burly face. Dark eyes, ears that were quick to flick whenever he heard a sudden noise, a dark nosepad, sparse whiskers...

Yeah, that was Brock Stahlman alright.

The very same Dobie who had cornered me two days ago at the supply barracks, yanked me by my dog tags into the cleaning supplies room and pinned me to the shelves while kissing me hard and growlingly.

The big Dobie's paws had groped my ass while his tongue tickled my gums and I had moaned into the kiss and hissed to him that someone might come in at any minute, but instead he just muffled me further with his lips, and one of those huge paws was squeezing my sheath through my pants.

"Eeehhhh Brock..." I had complained, but being pinned against the wall so effectively, I couldn't do anything else to protest for this treatment.

I knew I would let him do anything to me, even now that it was possible that at any second someone could yank that door open and see what we were up to in there, and we'd probably be kicked out of the army for good.

His paws had cupped my head heavily, and the Dobie soldier panted as he looked at me, and his breaths warmed my cheeks hotly. His eyes were heavy and dark and burning.

"You wanna make it a motel night we did last time we were on leave, Jack?" he had husked at me, only inches away from my muzzle.

"Yeah," I replied to him, feeling my belly go upside down when his musk filled my nose.

Brock's paws had squeezed my neck as he held me briefly, and licked over my lips.

"Fuck yeah...," he had growled at me, before his teeth nipped at my neck, and I had yelped, and he left me standing there, breathless and with a throbbing hard-on inside my pants.

Now we were standing in a line waiting to get into that goddamned bus so that we could get to the town and drink some beer and then probably I would get myself pushed on my belly on a dingy motel bed with a panting Dobie on top of me giving it doggie-style and ball-slappingly up the tail while drooling down my neck.

In theory, that is, since the darned bus never came.

Well, it did try to come, but that fucking, lumbering piece of shit blew its gearbox into smithereens about forty yards before it was meant to stop to pick us all up.

Instead of piling up into the bus, we ended up pushing that World War II relic back to the base garage. As we stood there, huffing and wiping our brows after getting that big haul of crap settled, and our shower freshness had more than certainly been lost, Sergeant Williams appeared and told us that since we didn't have any spare transportation, the night out had been cancelled.

There we were, still naturally falling into a line as we headed back to the base like some perverse uniformed version of the Seven Dwarves marching out from a day in their mine, and we weren't in a hi-ho! mood to begin with. All our dreams had been crushed, and now the base was filled with a bunch of horny and bored furry soldiers with too much free time at their paws, unspent money in their pockets and who had generally lost their hope. It did not help at all that we also saw Sergeant Williams and the other drill officers zoom past us and into the desert on a Jeep heading towards the town.

The multipurpose barracks were especially crowded this eve, and nothing seemed to be going up to people's wishes. There was an argument going on by the television over whether to watch the show about soldiers back in the ol' World War II or another of those Westerns. Near them the bear private Shippy was challenging everyone that would listen to him into an arm wrestling match, and so far he had beat private Simmons and private Dix and won two dollars. I idly wondered just how much money he might end up winning tonight, and turned my attention back to the LIFE magazine I had been leafing through.

I had always liked that glossy paper even since I was a cub, because as a kid I used to read the old ones that had plenty of pictures from the war and stuff. I'd look at the pictures of the soldiers somewhere in the battlefields of France and Africa and think that wow, maybe that's how it must've been for my dad too, who had been back in Carenton and Falleeesh and whatever they called those places where they kicked some Jerry ass. My pa never spoke of those times to us when we were cubs, so that was pretty much my entire war experience summed into one.

This one had pictures of jet planes launching of a carrier, too, and helicopters and stuff, but mostly it was just colorful cigarette and booze commercials which only served to reminder me of the goodies I had left out of, and unseen naked pictures of Marilyn Monroe on some pool. I felt oddly disinterested ogling at the pictures of that blonde bombshell and again felt a twinge in my belly, and peered over the edge of the magazine to look around the room again.

No sight of Brock Stahlman.

I snuffled and tried to concentrate really on a picture of some grizzly bear pouring booze into a barrel.

Why did I feel so lonely without Brock? It wasn't like we were friends or that we'd hang out much during these evenings off... he'd usually shoot some pool with the guys from his platoon, or watch the television for a while and disappear off into the night. Again he had simply vanished somewhere during the commotion as our grumbling lot had filed into the multipurpose room and taken over all the amusements.

Still I'd rather spent this time with him, even if we'd just be sitting there, bored together. I mean, man, was I pissed that we hadn't gotten out to that motel room he had promised to me, but still, at least getting bored out of our asses together would've been better than no Brock at all.

A scraping sound aroused my attention, and I looked up from my magazine only to find myself face to face with private Arnett who was now sitting on the chair opposite to me. He still wore his jacket, though buttoned open, and he had soot and oil stains covering his pants, probably from pushing that miserable bus. Even his waves had gotten flat.

"Hey, Griggs," the puma practically purred at me in greeting as he slumped back in his chair.

"Arnett," I replied, folding my magazine down since it seemed that I was now engaged in conversation.

"What's up?"

"Nothing's up," I huffed. "The night's been cancelled, remember?"

"No need to tell me that," the disinterested puma rumbled, scratching his belly from his lopsided posture.

"You can imagine how angry Francine was on the phone..."

I flicked my ears with amusement at the resident ladies' man's despair and snuffled.

"Which one's that now?" I inquired, not really interested at all with Arnett's antics, but hell, it was something to pass the time.

"She's a wolf who works at the drugstore out in town, "the puma detailed, grinning toothily. "Pink silk stockings...and the way she plays with the straw on her strawberry milkshake..."

Arnett's voice had become a low purr as he spoke, and I suspected that if he'd go on for much longer with this style, he might need to pour a cold milkshake into his pants to cool himself off.

"Well, you better watch out or she'll find someone else to stir her milkshake, Arnett," I told the puma off, and he smirked and snorted.

"Bah, I did manage to chat her up and promise to meet her next Friday and take her out for a dinner," Arnett mused, his long, ropey tail making scheming loops over his knees.

That movement caught my attention and gave me another opportunity to mess around with the confident puma.

"Hey, is that tail still sore?" I noted, giving my eye to the appendage that had been caught in some barbed wire out in the training course two weeks back. It still had a pink, furless spot along to the side about half a foot from the tip, and that made the once proud member look kind of pointless.

The puma huffed while his blue eyes flashed with indignation at the embarrassing accident that left him having to carry his tail in a sling, seriously.

"No, they removed the stitches at the infirmary a couple of days ago," Arnett spoke quickly, flicking his tail securely into hiding under the chair he was sitting on.

"Damn dangerous that barbed wire, huh?" I gave him an amused look.

"Don't speak up, Griggs, you're so big that we always have to cut an entire wire obstacle off your back once you've tried to go through them," the puma teased. "They get stuck to you!"

"Well at least you were lucky that it was only your tail and not your other potential protrusions that got caught!" I snipped him back, and the puma's whiskers shook with his huff.

"Goddamn it how I'd need a drink now," Arnett snorted, rubbing the side of his tan-colored head.

"Why don't you get a Coke from the machine?" I smirked.

"Oh, fuck, Griggs!" the puma laughed and slapped his paw down to the small table between us with a loud bang.

"No need to get all riled up, Arnett," I told him, and the puma gave me a half- amused glare before his attention was elsewhere.

"Hey, is that Marilyn?" he spoke, spotting the haphazardly positioned LIFE magazine on the table where I had put it when Arnett had come to annoy me.

I gave the puma a nod, and he was already curiously scrutinizing the image of the movie star on the cover, wearing a blue bathrobe and posing on a pool.

"Wow...she sure is still hot," he murmured, staring longingly at the smiling picture. "Even if she's as old as my mother..."

I nearly groaned a slumped back on my chair, foreseeing a very long and boring even to come. I didn't even bother to think to head back to the barracks and break out one of the old books on calculus I had in my storage chest. I still was sure as fuck determined to hang on with this army shit only until I could cut it for the training programs and maybe get the army to pay for tutoring and I could get to the college my pa wasn't rich enough to pay for me.

I might've been big and dumb as far as Dobies went, but I had done some math at school and had hoped that maybe I could study and maybe be an engineer or something fancy like that. I sure as hell didn't want to end up in the shitter like all the guys from school had done, doing odd jobs and simply hoping for the better. Fuck that, the only way to be better was to do something, not just sit on their tails doing nothing.

There I sat, resigned to my fate of long suffered boredom, and let my eyes wander quietly. The television corner was as busy as ever, with everyone laughing at an advertisement where Fred Flinstone and Barney were having a smoke of Winston cigarettes. The usual bustle was going on around the pool and ping pong tables where people were making the best of the otherwise shitty eve.

Oh heck, maybe I could challenge private Axelson to a game later. I saw the familiar deer near the pool table, leaning on his stick and observing the game that was going on now. He was probably calculating the odds for each ball hitting each other in his mind, and I got to say that Axelson was good at the game.

Rattle!

My ears perked and I almost jumped at the odd sound, and I felt an instinctual rise of adrenaline as my body tensed and I turned my big head around in search of the odd, sharp sound.

It was coming from behind me, I learned as soon as I turned, and the cause was a claw that was clicked against the glass of the window. The claw belonged to a huge Dobie paw that was followed by a dangerously bulging arm ending to a pair of wide shoulders. Between them was poised the thick neck and great head of private Brock Stahlman, and he was glaring at me through the glass.

I almost jumped again at the sight and gave a quick, minute glance at Arnett, but the puma seemed to be oblivious to the earlier noise and was still engrossed with the magazine. I turned my head quickly so that I was facing Brock. We stared at each other through the glass for a few moments, and that familiar overconfident smile took over his lips as he tilted his head to the side a couple of times. He was gesturing at me. I flicked my ears at him, puzzled for a moment, before he turned his paw and waved it at me at the "come here!" gesture.

I think both my tail and my ears must have flicked at the same time as I saw that, and the pit of my belly made a cartwheel and landed somewhere in my pants, I think. I only had time to blink before Brock had already disappeared from the view and into the night.

"What're you looking at, Griggs?" I heard Arnett's characteristic purr-rumble, and I turned around to see him peering at me over the magazine.

"A flying saucer," I replied to him, feeling heat creep to my cheeks at being caught.

Arnett laughed, and it was a feline, purring laugh so unlike my own barking laughter, and his was high-pitched and ringing. I bet the girls loved that laugh.

"Yeah, or how about it was the Reds and their spacemen?"

"Hell, no, our missiles would shoot 'em down before they get down here enough," I told him, deadpan, before getting up from the chair.

"Screw it, Arnett, this place is dead," I spoke, scratching my side absentmindedly. "I think I'm gonna hit the sack."

The puma smirked at me and waved the magazine in his paw.

"You wanna borrow her, Griggs?" he told with a toothy smile.

"No thanks, Arnett, I'd just keep thinking about your mother who's still so hot," I sniped back at him and I was fleeing before the lascivious puma could come up with a suitable retort.

I made my way quickly out of the multipurpose barracks and into the gravel path outside, my heart thumping in my throat. I rubbed the back of my neck and huffed, and it made my breath mist lightly. Can't believe how cold it got out there in the desert at night! Still, my skin prickled with an odd warmth I could hardly explain. I only knew that it felt good in a strange way, and it kept the cold away from my bare arms and neck.

"Hey, Griggs," Brock spoke to me, and I twirled around with what must have been almost comical speed.

Private Brock Stahlman stood there, arms crossed over his chest, one leg pushed forward while he stood there in a cocky pose, shoulders slung back while his footpaw tapped the ground slowly. He looked at me, head tilted, and his dog tags gleamed in the darkness.

"Brock," I slipped quietly, watching him in the dark.

"Wanna go somewhere, Griggs?" the Dobie's rough voice carried through the air and made ripples through my spine.

"Whatever," I huffed and spat to the ground, acting all cool and tough, just the way I was.

That was how we were supposed to be. All business, carry on, nothing to see, barely able to talk to each other without getting growling and fighting like rabid dogs. That's what we were trained for, after all, brawling and fighting and measured killing of enemy soldiers upon order.

Brock smirked.

"Come on then, wuffit," he snorted and walked past me. Just when he reached me, Brock nudged me to my side with his elbow and kept walking.

I grunted quietly, sending another puff of vapor into the night air as I grudgingly followed the Dobie as he walked along the gravel path. We passed a couple of soldiers having a smoke near the barracks, but they didn't pay any attention to us while we went walking along. He seemed to be taking us towards the utilities section of the base, and for a while I wondered whether he planned to take us into the storage room of the laundry barracks where we had spent that...interesting hour a while back.

I still got a massive boner just thinking of it, how Brock had lifted his stubby tail to the side and straddled me with the intentions of getting my cock inside him.

Oh, hell...it was happening even now as we walked, that familiar tightening of my pants when my sheath started to swell. I tried to push the thoughts well off my mind, but the very presence of private Brock within four feet of me, his scent that came over to my nose easily...a bit of sweat, a lot of musk, just a little bit of cologne and a lot of Brock.

I was already blushing as we rounded up around the supplies barracks, and to my surprise, Brock still kept going towards a small, squat concrete building off to the side.

"Brock, you ain't serious!" I called after him as we reached the small building that was a late addition into our otherwise World War II - era military complex.

"It's you who wanted to go somewhere, so this is somewhere," he grunted, and just as I watched, his giant paws grabbed onto a massive steel lever on a very heavy-looking door into the building.

Once again I hoped there would've been more than sparse moonlight to give me a better look, since by the grunts and snorts coming from Brock I just knew that every muscle in his body was tensing from effort as he put his weight onto turning the lever. I practically visualized his body going taunt and every set of muscles bulging while the hunk of a soldier worked at the door.

I had to swallow before the door finally agreed to open with an ear-shattering creak.

"Get in," Brock spoke to me from behind the solid steel door. "Go down the stairs, there's a rail to the right, and when you get down, the light switch is on the right just when you get down the stairs."

I gave the Dobie a quick look before I stepped over through the doorway and peered down into the darkness. My paw felt out to my right and I felt my pads scrape over cold, damp concrete, and then I moved down, and there was cool metal, and I knew I had found the railing Brock had talked about. I took a firm grip of that safety rail and took my first steps down into the bowels of Fort Chipmunk emergency fallout shelter.

The steps seemed to be going down forever, and the darkness became even more oppressive as I heard the door slam shut behind us, followed by the sound of Brock's pawsteps on concrete. I kept going down, down, a step after step, and in the darkness where the only sound was our combined breathing, I felt like we had left the real world and entered a strange shadow realm.

Of course I had been down there before, since our weekly routine included at least one emergency evacuation drill. Whenever the siren sounded we'd leave whatever we were doing, whether that was exercising or disassembling our guns or whatever, and we'd all rush out towards this shed that everyone hoped would offer a safe haven in case the Reds would decide to drop the H-bomb straight onto us.

During those drills, though, we weren't descending all alone into a dark tunnel, but there'd be light, and angry sergeants telling us that if we'd be any more lazy and lard-assed we'd already be saying goodbye to our balls.

Here there was only the soft rumble of Brock's breathing that I could almost feel on the back of my neck as I finally reached the bottom of the stairwell and my fumbling paw managed to locate the light switch off to the side.

The light was white and bare and looked damn bright after our stint in the darkness, and I had to squint and blink to get used to it. While I stood there stupidly, Brock came down as well and walked past me to start opening the door into the bunker itself. This time I could watch properly, the way I had wanted to before, and boy did I watch.

First off were those thighs that practically made his pants pop out of their seams, widening even more for the roundness of his hips and ass that I seriously was wanting to feel up by then since we were alone in a closed space with no other furries in sight. There was the curve of his back and the shoulders that formed a perfect V-shape with his hips as his body simply widened and widened, and those thick arms were simply irresistible the way they filled out the shirt he was wearing. Even through dark fabric I could trace, with my eyes, and hopefully soon with my paws, too, his biceps and triceps and whatever those muscles were called, I knew they looked damn nice on his oversized doggie body.

I stood there still and with my heart leaping against my ribcage while Brock released the four locks of the armored door that separated the stairwell from the interior of this fallout shelter. The metal screeched under the stress, but with a lot of heaving, Brock managed to pull it open, and we were given entry into the first room.

This was probably the freakiest place down here, or at least so I thought as I stepped in and this time helped Brock to pull the door back into its place. Gas masks and yellow plastic suits that looked like those diving suits you saw in the magazines hung from the walls, and there were small slots on the back wall which I knew were peepholes through which gun barrels could be pushed through.

"So why the hell did you bring us here, Brock?" I huffed at him while we pulled the locking latches down together, each grappling onto a lever.

"It's a place," he replied, hissing between his teeth while the door resisted his attempts for a moment more before the hatch finally agreed to close for good.

I finished with mine and watched Brock as he rubbed his paws against his thighs, probably to get the tang of steel and flaking paint off from them, and he nudged me again, this time with his shoulder against my shoulder, and he was already strutting along the bare concrete floor towards the doorway on the back of the narrow room where we were now standing.

The lights were shining out there in the beyond, and I followed him as soon as I managed to get my down side of the door battered down. There was a long, wide corridor, with normal-looking doors opening away to the sides which I knew led into barracks-style accommodations for soldiers, bunk beds and all. There was a wide pair of doors on the very end of the corridor that had a sign reading "MACHINERY ROOM", and I could hear the low hum of the ventilation fans even from where I stood.

"Come on," the Dobie spoke to me and led me over towards a door marked "READY ROOM", and he pushed the door open and reached for the light switch.

It was a small enough of a room, about ten feet by twelve feet. There was a single bare lamp on the wall that gave out all the light available, and there was also a desk with a couple of phones sitting on top of it, pushed near the door. Over to one side there were piles of wooden boxes marked "FIELD RATIONS" that climbed on top of each other all the way to the ceiling. On the other side there were two steel-framed beds with green blankets on them signaling that the sparse beds did indeed belong to a military base and not a mental hospital. There was also a small table, a bit like a picnic table, and four chairs around it. The table, to my surprise, was littered with empty bottles and some other trash, and I gave Brock a questioning look.

"I heard from Private Dix that the sergeants sometimes come down here to drink whiskey and play poker, because they can't do that at the NCO quarters," he spoke to me, grinning at the sight of the table used for illicit gambling.

"And you're sure they aren't coming here tonight?" I asked him, feeling nervous at being here when we obviously weren't supposed to.

"Silly wuff," he chuckled throatily and nudged his knuckles against my chest. "You were there when they piled into the Jeep and went fucking AWOL on us."

I hung my head in embarrassment for a little while and snuffled while my ears flattened, but I was brought back into the present by the feel of Brock's paws on my shoulders. I looked up again and saw him...felt him standing there, really close...a half a foot between us was all there was.

"Silly, silly, silly," he repeated in that infuriating tone he used to get under people's furs, and not for the first time I shivered for the reason that Brock was so close.

The hardass Dobie's paws began to rub over my shoulders and my back, and I simply stood still and submitted myself under his will again. His touch wasn't soft but it wasn't rough either, just...heavy, I guess is the word, to describe how those paws felt as they smoothly glided over my body and touched me through the cloth of my army issue shirt. His eyes studied mine while he explored, paws going as far down my arm as my biceps, which he seemed to be squeezing approvingly once he got there.

"You wanna know what I had in mind for us for the night away, Jack?" he whispered, leaning close to my ear while he still stroked me.

I wanted to touch him back, and I wanted to do it badly, but my paws were limp to my sides and I wasn't moving at all, even if my soul screamed to touch Brock. It was his spell that was working over me again, that secret force that made me let him do anything he wanted to do to me, and do it again and again.

I almost sighed out the words back to him, and pushed my shoulders back so that he could feel them better under his touch.

"Yeah, I would, "I replied meekly.

He stroked my shoulders slowly, now putting some more strength into his paws while he caressed me slowly and was making my breaths come out in soft, throaty gasps. It felt much better than any backrub I'd ever had, much better.

"Well, I though we'd have a couple of beers at Belle's," he spoke in his rough-but-soft-around-the-edges whisper that made my tail wag.

Brock's breath caressed my skin as he kept up his rubbings on me.

"And we'd be buzzed up from that, and walk along the road...there'd be a room waiting for you and I...," his voice was doing things inside my head...my breath was catching...my belly fluttered and my pants were again tightening to an uncomfortable extent.

Hell, he hadn't even touched anywhere that was good, he'd just...he kind of was there, and that felt like it was enough to make me feel an awful lot of things on the inside, and the outside.

"I could push you on the bed, Jack, and show you just how fucking hot you make me feel...," he rasped near my ear now, and I gasped at the sudden heat of thee feeling when his tongue sneaked out of his maw and licked the edge of my flicky ear.

Even before I could react further he had my ear between his front teeth, and Brock nipped me and it was almost painful as I instinctually threw my head back and growled. One of Brock's paws pressed onto my neck and the other over my back while the Dobie finally pushed our bodies together. He started to kiss wetly along the side of my head and neck, and he didn't mind when my paws were raised and set over his hips, the way I liked to hold onto him.

All of Brock was heavy and thick and demanding, the way he always was. His body was fleshy and huge, and even though we were almost the same size, he could still somehow make himself appear even bigger than he really was. He smelled good, and this close I could really smell the remains of that cologne he must have applied after shower. Mostly it was just Brock's natural musk that filled my nostrils and made my head spin.

It also made me pull over his ass with my paws so that our hips were pushed together. Brock's hefty package rubbed against my own endowment easily, and the pressure felt good on my hard cock when I felt Brock's press over my belly right next to my own hard-on. Even with double layers of clothing I felt how that thick Dobie meat pulsed, and it felt HOT, not just warm, pressing over there. I wanted to touch it, and maybe taste it, too, and I knew deep in my mind that eventually he'd want me to raise my tail up high and let him push it up into my tailhole. Even that thought didn't disturb me at all...more like simply excited more. Certainly it made me growl throatily, and keep my head down to the side so that Brock could keep mouthing my neck.

"You like this, wuff?" he breathed against my neck while his paws groped my back and ass. "You like it?"

"Yeah...nhhhh....yeah, Brock...," I mumbled, my eyes half-lidded and my breaths growing more shallow by the minute.

"Goddamn I like it," the Dobie replied, slobbering the side of my neck with his saliva-filled kisses and tongue.

His voice was rough and throaty and he ground his hips to mine, and I pulled him closer to me, and we began to trade humps back and forth while I sill couldn't kiss him properly. I was feeling too good to complain, anyway, when our bodies kept rubbing together. We were both feeling each other up, especially on the Dobie butt department, and I must admit that Brock didn't lose to me one bit on that regard either. His was big and strong and mine was a typical ex-footballer's ass, firm yet springy, and he was taking all he could, kneading my rear all he liked.

It's not like I wasn't groping his ass all the way, too, going as low as I could and then back up again to the small of his back, and I rubbed a couple of heavy fingers over his spine, and he growled contently and nipped my neck as a thank you for that.

"God you taste so good I wanna eat you up," Brock grunted against my sloppy neck and kissed it again while his left paw squeezed my rump and the right one tried to slip into my pants, only to get his fingertips caught at my belt.

I simply filled them up too well for him to make any progress, so he switched tactics and just kept going like he did before. Brock lightly bit the joining of my neck and shoulder again, and I went sort of limp in his arms for a while, letting him feel as much as hear how good he was being to me. On the back of my mind I was sure this was pretty much even more whacked up than letting him push his hot, throbbing cock into my ass, but then, Brock had let me do that to him, too, and the feeling of having accidentally sat on a fire hydrant did disappear after a couple of days.

Brock had walked funnily a week after our session in the storeroom, though, but I'm sure he'd pummeled me if I'd noted that to him aloud.

"Brock...," I dully repeated his name, and he ground his junk into mine and huffed.

I shot so much pre into my underwear after that push that it was almost as if I'd wet myself, or almost. the Dobie just snorted and gave my neck another few mauling nips before he suddenly stood back again and just looked at me for a while. He looked like a wild dog with his tongue hanging out from his panting maw and spit all over his chin and chops, and he had a hungry look in his dark eyes.

"Let's get comfy, wuff," he spoke, and flashed me a grin, and then he goddamned kissed me straight on the lips, but it was just a brief kiss.

I never had a chance to make it into a proper lip lock before Brock caught my paws by my wrists and removed them from his rear. The huge and naughty Dobie soldier kept holding onto me as he began to walk backwards, and I followed him obediently, taking careful steps so that he wouldn't tumble and throw us both down to the hard concrete.

I knew where he was going even before we passed the picnic table, and Brock grinned when he sat down on the edge of the bed and tugged on my paws to get me to sit down as well. The bed creaked under our combined weight but thankfully us army boys tend to be big guys and our furniture is built according to our specs. This dingy-looking bed wasn't an exception from that rule, thankfully, so it more than well took us both is as we sat there.

That's how we were, two oversized Dobies, one of us with a big smile on his muzzle, the other one, that would be me, with a bit of a drooling problem as I breathed, or panted more like. We sat on the edge of the bed, our log-like thighs pressed together, heck even our ankles touched the way we were sat there. I had Brock's paws around my wrists, and he held them. His thumbs were rubbing slowly along the inner sides of my wrists, and that felt so good I almost wanted to weep for how gentle he was being with me. The dog soldier was looking at me, and he was so close I felt each and every of his panting breaths against my spit-slicked face and neck, while Brock's eyes studied me. I wish I'd known what he was thinking at the moment, poised there next to me and simply holding me.

I swallowed to get my voice going again and spoke to him.

"You still planning to show me, Brock?" I asked in a breathy voice.

"Hell fucking o-yeah!" the dog laughed at me, flicking an ear and flashing that annoyingly confident smile of his.

I felt my heart both leap and also felt like some sort of a spell had been broken. The cocky Dobie was back, with his leers and cursing and I was sure that he was going to start employing his dirty tricks at me any moment now. That wasn't such a bad assumption, because only a moment later Brock's paw left one of my wrists and came to rest over my thigh, and he squeezed it firmly.

"I wanna see that hot body of yours, Jack," he hissed at me. "Get buffed up, doggie. Lose that shirt."

With almost trembling paws I eased my shirt off my torso, being careful with my dog tags as they almost got caught to the neck of my shirt, and then tossed the piece of cloth aside and sat still again. My cheeks were burning hot and there was a throbbing in my pants, and I felt like I had been nailed down to the bed by Brock's eyes looking me all over. Then the hunky Dobie grabbed his own shirt and displayed himself for me in his full, thick glory.

He packed more guns on those arms than an entire platoon. His belly looked like an eight pack instead of a six pack. There were sweat stains on his dark brown chest, and his beastly pecs were accented by the dark circles of his nipples. He really looked good enough to eat.

Even worse than that, he was slowly rubbing his paw all over his belly and chest while looking at me, smiling at how I must have been drooling at the sight of him groping himself.

"You like, doggy?"

"I like it something bad," I grunted back at him.

Brock's smile only widened as he continued to flaunt his body at me, and he twisted his free paw behind his neck and really let me see how his arm bulged with muscles and strength. There was a patch of black, whispy hair under his arm, and I could smell his musk strong in the air. Not even his recent shower had taken away any of his natural scent, and I was approving.

"I wanna...I wanna touch you...,"I said to him desperately, feeling my arousal grow with each heartbeat.

My cock ached. My nose ached with his scent. Hell, my heart ached. I had already been disappointed once this eve when our night out was cancelled, but now we were safe and together again, and we had a chance to get down and dirty, and I knew that Brock was a very, very dirty doggie.

He gave me a long, quiet look, and grinned.

"Say please, doggie. Just say please."

"Brock...," I snorted at his request, though at the same time my brain was already working on ways to justify to myself why I should say something so subby for the Dobie.

Hell, he was practically asking me to BEG for it. It being his body and especially his cock, of course.

Goddamn this was whacked up.

"It's your decision, Jack..."

Fuck, he was rubbing his crotch now.

That lump in his fatigues was his hugely swollen sheath and cock perfect with the massive knot near the base, and he was playing with himself through the rough cloth now. The Dobie's fingers massaged around his hot shaft, and I was sure I could see it throb even through his pants. I wanted to do that!

"Yeah, Brock, I want it bad," I snorted...and then... "...yeah, please, Brock."

My ears flattened and I just stared at the big doggie in what must have been a really miserably puppy dog pose, before he just laughed at me again, and punched my chest lightly with his fisted paw.

"That's a good puppy," he snickered at me, and then his paw caught my shoulder and grasped it.

It felt nice, but I still hoped he would've been groping some other part of me instead.

With a final squeeze he stood up and began to undress, quickly. The Dobie kept his eyes intent on me while he unbuckled his belt and then bent down to get rid of his shoes and socks, and when he finally stood up he was there simply in his boxers. The huge mass of his cock created a big bulge to the front, and there was a large dark stain from his leaked pre.

"I won't let you touch it before you're all naked, wuffy," Brock growled, and began to run his paw over his package again while hit other paw played with one of his nipples.

Fuck he was a tease and I couldn't stop watching him pawing off like that.

I must've made the Division record on the speed of getting out my gear, though, as I didn't even bother to sit up while I untied my shoelaces and yanked off my socks and pants and then just sat there, flushed and horny and dripping pre against my abs. My cock had slapped against my belly resoundingly after being finally released from its clothed prison, and by the swelling of my knot I could tell that this doggie needed some action, fast.

I looked up to Brock's package like it was the juiciest bone or a steak I'd ever seen in my life. In a way it was both...really hard and straight, and also, fleshy and dripping, and hot gravy was involved. My breaths were almost like whines.

Brock must've seen my desperation since he simply took a step closer, slammed a heavy paw against the back of my neck, and slowly pushed my face down to his groin.

He grunted with pleasure at the first contact, of my hot breath brushing over his damp flesh, followed by the heat of my maw pressed over his bulge. I was kissing his cock through the thin cloth, and I really felt it pulse so invitingly, that I gasped. My breaths were filled with Brock's musk, and I could only breath through my nose since my maw was otherwise occupied.

Brock still held me in my place over his funky crotch while his other paw scratched my ears. I murred deeply in my throat and that must've felt good for Brock too since he pushed his package more firmly against my face.

"Don't keep those paws idle, wuff," I heard him speak as if it was coming from somewhere far away.

I kept chewing on Brock's cock slowly, kissing and lapping that hot meat through the fabric while my shaky paws rose slowly and came to rest on my favorite place, Brock Stahlman's hot Dobie ass. He didn't seem to mind my preoccupation with his rump, and I was very glad of that. Those thick cheeks fit nicely into my paws when I splayed my fingers to cup them, and he simply growled with approval when I kneaded over those hot halves of his bottom and traced my fingerpads over the crevice between them. His cock throbbed in his pants while I groped him, and I was surely soaking his boxers with my saliva as I ran my tongue up and down on his shaft over the straining cloth. I felt his entire lower body flex under my touch, and his ass become even more firm and hunky. Growled with my own pleasure as I tried pulling his ass cheeks apart slightly.

"Good wuffy, good boy," he murmured to me, and kept guiding my head with his paws, taking my lips just where he wanted them.

Right now my nose was lodged against his knot while I lapped and kissed his balls through his boxers. Those hefty mounds tasted sweaty and hot even when licked indirectly like that, and it was a massive turn-no for me too. My cock pulsed and I desperately wanted to stroke it, or have Brock touch me, but my paws were too occupied with the Dobie soldier's ass. My fingertips played with the base of his docked tail, and I wondered whether Brock would let me touch his puckered hole, too. Hell, he had let me lick it once, so maybe he'd like just my fingers there, too.

Thus, I was ready for a small boldness, and on my next pass over his crack, I prodded my fingertips at the very base of his twitchy tail, so that they were pressing against his hole through his boxers.

The Dobie froze and rumbled something incomprehensible. I looked up to him questioningly, and my maw was hanging open and I was dripping a bit of drool from my lips. Brock glared at me and winked.

"That's a place where you only go when told to, wuff," he spoke to me in a rough voice, and I let my paws drop from his rump, rejected.

Brock chuckled throatily and gave my ears a couple of scritches with his clawed paw.

"Poor doggie," he crooned, and I must have looked more than a little disappointed, and it must have been very amusing for him since he was still leering at me.

"Lemme give you some relied, doggie," he smirked, and I saw his paws going for his boxers. "Look at that, wuffit, you've soaked me..."

He hooked his thumbs under his waistband and pulled those soiled boxers down, and when he stood up straight and tall again, his cock slapped against his belly and was then left standing up proud and slightly curved. His blunt, fleshy tip was connected to his abs with a bridge of sticky pre. The whole of thick, veiny shaft was glistering with my spit and his precum, not to mention the knot that looked about the size of an orange. That huge cock smelled mouth-wateringly good, and I wanted to taste it properly.

"Go on," he smirked, and goddamn I swear, he flexed that cock, made it jump right there and wave at me in the air. "Get it nice and deep, wuff, but don't touch the knot...I want to last."

I practically mewled with desire when I dove down to him, smacking my lips against his now bare ball sac and giving him a proper tonguing. I wanted to explore that musky sac some more, especially after giving it a workout earlier, and I wasn't disappointed when my tongue caught that special taste of his flesh and skin and smooth fur. Brock let me work on my own for now since his paws had not returned to hold my head, so I did have a free reign to go on and play with him. I even dared to return my own paws to Brock's hips, and he willingly pushed them back so that I would have more of his nice rump to fondle. I must've had really hard time deciding which I liked better, his big doggie cock or his ass, but their combination was even better. I could lick along his slick shaft with my raspy tongue and knead the backs of his thighs before going back up all the way to his tailbase and the small of his back. That part of him, like the rest, was sturdy and muscular, and the doggie wagged his tail for me when I pressed my thumbs over his spine.

Off the corner of my eye I could see how Brock's paw clenched on its place by his side, when his entire body tensed under my insistent teasing of his body, and I heard his breaths coming more shallow once more. He pushed his hips back to my touch again and that arched his back suitably so that I could really get into him properly. This angle allowed me to wrap my hot tongue around the Dobie's cocktip and simply slobber over it wetly while murring deeply.

Brock thrust his hips powerfully forward and my tongue slid along his shaft while his tip suddenly escaped my grip and hit my nosepad, smearing it with his pre and my spit. The growling soldier chuckled breathily at the feeling and with a snort his fingers caught his shaft just above his knot, before he slowly pushed his cock down into a straight angle. A vicious smirk spread over his face when I looked up to him, already missing that cock, and then he slapped me.

The Dobie soldier's thick, slick cock was smacked right over the side of my muzzle. It's fleshy weight was enough to make a slapping noise when meat connected with meat, and once his cock slipped away, I felt a hot wetness remain.

"That's a naughty looking doggie," Brock growled down to me, and again let his pendulum-like cock flop against the side of my face.

I snorted at the feeling of that repeated swatting, but could really do nothing more than keep my hold of his ass and stay put. He wasn't hurting me in any way, he was just playing with me like usual, and he was getting under my furs something fierce, if that was to be judged from the way how my own cock was standing up like the parade ground flagpole between my thighs. My head was held up high, and my ears were flat as a sign of my willing submission to Brock. The hunky Dobie stood in front of me as imposingly as ever, and his paw moved, guiding his leaking cock across my cheek. I could feel it leave a trail of pre as he slowly manipulated himself, and Brock hissed between his teeth while his cock was subjected to the silky smoothness of my face fur. The slickness of his own flesh must have made it even better, since once he reached my open maw, my hanging tongue was treated to a spurt of pre while he rubbed his cock against my lips.

I moaned desperately and ran my tongue down the underside of his cock, letting my tongue to slip back into my maw so that I could savor the taste of Brock's musky pre. The Dobie wasn't about to wait, though, since he was already pushing his blunt-tipped meat past my lips and into the warmth of my muzzle. I opened my maw more wide to accept him, and now that his tip was securely beyond my lips his guiding paw moved to cup my jaw and keep my head still as he slowly fed me more and more of his thick shaft.

The soldier set up a pattern of pushing half an inch of his length into my maw before pulling an inch back, and then repeating the same thing again, each time giving more of his cock to be enjoyed by my needy muzzle. I did manage to take about half of his shaft above his knot before the tip hit the back of my throat and I made an odd gurgling noise when I felt like I was going to chuck up, and Brock immediately pulled his cock out of me. It made another of those hot slaps against his belly and the Dobie hissed while I coughed and held my head down.

"Sorry, wuff," the doggie spoke quietly and gave the top of my head a rub.

"I'm okay," I coughed and wiped my lips with the back of my paw.

Brock held my head up so that he could look down to me, and then he was leaning, and since I was sitting on the bed, he could reach me and kiss me soundly on the lips.

I moaned his name and clung onto him with both of my paws again while he cupped both of my cheeks with his own huge paws and kept kissing my lips with his own. Me speaking allowed him to slip his tongue between my lips and into my maw, and while we kept battling for the control of my maw with our tongues, my paws rubbed his wonderful, strong legs as far up and down as I could reach. The soldier's lips set the pace for this activity as he did for everything else that happened between up, and a blissful warmth spread through me and took away any of the discomfort that might have been lingering after I had gagged.

Brock only left my lips with a little lap of his tongue over them, and he looked at me before rubbing our cheeks together briefly, and his thumbs rubbed my jaw, and it felt so fucking beautiful I almost wanted to weep.

"You okay now, Jack?" he murmured to me, and his smooth voice echoed through my head, and I gave him a breathless nod.

"Good wuffy," he smiled at me and that familiar glint was back to his eyes when his paw reached for his dogmeat and adjusted his cock for the perfect blowjob attitude.

The soldier didn't have to ask me to go down on him this time, and within a blink of a second I had him safely in my maw again all the way to my comfortable limit. Brock kept his paws over my cheeks but didn't move at all, and this time it was up to me to provide enjoyment for both of us. His tasty flesh filled my maw well, but this time I knew my limits and only went up and down as far as I could without gagging and ruining it again. My lips were wrapped around his gliding shaft while my tongue made hot circles around his length, tracing veins and really feeling his hot throbbing maleness. Once I got him all slick and wet, I started to suckle slowly, and my cheeks bulged.

Brock murmured with appreciation and kept stroking my cheeks and ears and the back of my neck while I blew him to the best of my ability.

"Play with my balls," he hissed between clenched teeth, and I obeyed without a question.

My paw slid along his inner thigh, feeling up his firm muscles while I was at it, and as I reached the nicely hanging sac I could slowly, and with reverence, cup those hefty orbs onto my palm. They felt heavy and warm and gave when I applied a very careful squeeze, that also brought more rumblings from my Brock, and his hips flexed with the result of pushing a little bit more of his cock into my muzzle.

Thankfully, I didn't gag and could simply tease the slit at the tip of his shaft with my tongue, while my paw kept massaging his large nuts. I experimented with different ways to grab them since I knew from personal experience that some careful rubbing did feel very good indeed, but even the slightest miscalculation would lead into a very uncomfortable experience of getting your nuts accidentally crushed. Brock seemed to approve since he again called me a good doggie in his rough, rumbling voice, and grunted when my next squeeze came over his flesh. I also kept massaging his thigh, and it flexed along with his breaths and the small thrusts he was making into my muzzle. Even counting that, he was pretty still and letting me do all the work, and I wasn't about to start complaining. My nose was full of his musk and my maw full of his cock, and I had big balls in my paw and I was groping his big, hot rump. This Friday definitely had turned for the better.

After what felt like hours of this game I felt Brock's paws on me again and he was nudging me gently away from him. With a little regretful sigh I pulled off his sloppy shaft and licked over my lips. They felt a little bit numb after having been rubbed by Brock's hot member, and my tongue tickled from the tangy pre he had been disposing into my muzzle.

"Let's get down on the bed, doggie," Brock rumbled, and gave my ear a little squeeze.

My legs felt almost numb as I heaved them up to the bed and settled onto my back on the bunk bed, my paws relaxing to my sides and my thighs slightly spread. My cock flopped heavily against my belly, having lost none of its firmness. The thick drop of pre that been hanging from my tip now finally dripped down and started to make its way towards my belly button, and I simply lay there and breathed raggedly while Brock glared at me hotly.

The poor frame of the bed creaked when the Dobie climbed on top of me and nestled himself between my spread thighs. He grabbed my paws and pushed them up above my head while he made himself comfortable on top of me, leaning down over me until he put his weight on his elbows and let some of his weight press against me, too. I was trapped by him, my paws held down, all of my body coming into contact with the thick, strong body of private Brock while he pinned me against the slightly itchy blanket.

"Don't move, Jack," he growled, and instinctually I relaxed as much as I could when being almost crushed by a 160-pound dog soldier with a huge hard-on that just happened to be pressing against my own needy cock.

He started to grind our hips together, his ass flexing with every movement he made as our hips rubbed against each other in that familiar fucking motion. He kept it slow like he often did most things, and otherwise just...stayed there, drooling down to my chest while he humped me into submission.

I tilted my head back, hoping to attract Brock's teeth and tongue over my throat, but instead he began to lick my chest. I couldn't help but moan at the hot feeling, and I felt my cock flex between our bellies and expel another wad of sticky pre to mix with the growing smear we were making on our furs. He licked between the crevice of my pecs before he headed along to the side. I almost stopped breathing when his lips found my nipple and began to French it something serious. I grunted as I felt his chin stubble tickle my smooth fur while his lips and tongue and even his teeth abused my nipple and caused it to swell even more than they usually did. I barely had time to get used to the feeling before he left that fleshy bud and attacked its twin on the other side.

Since my paws were still being pinned by Brock above my head, all I could do in response was to growl even louder, and thrust my hips against his. The dominant Dobie pushed me down with a firm hump of his own hips, and our knots collided with a hot, fleshy squish. I must have shot pre almost up to my chin. Brock kept going between my nipples and in between them he simply let his lips brush my chest with a teasing slowness that made me simply pant loudly and raggedly. My body heaved, and I just couldn't understand how he could know my every weakness and exploit them for his own dirty Dobie mind purposes.

His paws were holding my wrists down still, and soon I felt another new feeling when Brock began to kiss my arms! I couldn't believe how hot it made me feel when he mouthed each of my biceps in turn and left a slick mark with his saliva. All the while when we played he kept a humping rhythm going, stoking our gathered heat with each pulse of his big cock against my own that did not lose anything to him when it came to size or by now, hardness and wetness. Our flesh together smoothly and without trouble, and the air was heavy with our mingled musk. I wished somewhere at the back of my pleasure-clouded mind that it would never stop, but of course we both were too horny to be that patient.

Brock didn't seem to be in a hurry, or so it seemed despite his intense humping, because once he was satisfied with his work on my arms he began to nose and lick my left armpit. Brock pressed his nosepad against the whispy hair that grew there and growled as he breathed me in deeply. Soon he had me panting and had soaked those strands with his saliva as he licked my shower-clean but nonetheless musky pit with seeming fascination. His tongue and nose ran along my flesh repeatedly, and his rasped breaths only worked to increase the heat of the feeling.

"Brock, shit, Brock...," I panted when he started to eat out my right armpit.

My body was shuddering and twisting under him now, trying to get into more contact with the rough but considerate Dobie soldier. My thighs were pressed to his and my ankles hooked over the backs of his knees to keep him as close to me as possible, and his heart beat strongly against my chest. I was in Dobie sex heaven, and it all was brought over by Brock, the on who held me and took me as he pleased.

He stopped after a maddeningly heated moment, and looked down to me, face slick with saliva, and his lips pulled into a heated scowl.

"You want more, Jack?" he hissed while grounding his hips to mine.

"Please," I muttered without hesitation.

The military Dobie flicked an ear at me before he leaned down to nip my shoulder with his sharp canines. I grunted at the feeling but didn't have time to really reply before he was suddenly rolling off me and getting out of the bed, and he left me there hot and bothered and feeling lonely and lost without Brock on top of me. At least he had the good grace of bending over so that his ass was showing off when he fidgeted with his abandoned pair of pants and retrieved the familiar brown bottle containing a musky liquid that came to mean a lot more to me recently than endless drills with my M1 carbine rifle. Hell, he even held it up and grinned at me!

"Get onto your belly," he grunted with that commanding tone I had learned to expect from this particular Dobie.

Without hesitation I turned myself over, hissing as I felt the rough surface of the blanket hit my tender flesh, and relaxed as best as I could, my knees splayed and with my chin resting against one of my paws while the other was simply placed to my side. My heart was pounding in my chest and I felt my tail twitching just above my now fully exposed rump, as I waited for the inevitable.

Brock climbed onto the bed and made himself at home easily as he sat down onto his haunches, and I felt his paws land onto my backside with a small smack. I grunted mildly as the force of that positioning took some of my breath away, but he wasn't planning to spank me, it simply was his way of saying hello for my muscled buns, the way his groping was too, I guess. Brock's paws ran heavily up and down my wide, thick Dobie rump, making me breathe huskily again from the feeling of his playful touch.

His thumbs kneaded over my smooth flesh and pulled my ass cheeks apart to expose me even further, and I knew that he was having a very good look at my pink, wrinkled tailhole that was still safely puckered up. He made me grunt instantly by giving that ring-shaped muscle a prod with a fingerpad, and I felt my guarding muscle tighten into an even more determined band.

"Damn you're tight, wuff," Brock spoke in an amused, rough tone, and I felt his thumbs running up and down the sides of my crack, between my tailhole and my ball sac that was squashed down against the bed.

"I think it's meant to be, Brock," I replied from my position, now daring to look over my shoulder to at what he was doing.

It was a damn hot sight, definitely, to have that big Dobie crouching there with a big throbbing cock bobbing in front of him and with his paws going all over my ass in gropey circles.

"Felt fucking good when you licked mine," he mused, and I felt a hot flush spread all over my face and I almost turned to hang my head down with embarrassment over the mention of that incident.

Brock wasn't about to let it go, though, since he had again reached the base of my tail, and his thumbs pulled my ass open again, and pressed against the edges of my tailhole. It felt kind of good, though, so I simply huffed.

"I've never done it, what does it taste like?" he spoke bluntly again and kept up that odd rubbing against the edges of my hole.

"Your spunk," I snorted at his lewdness.

The Dobie flicked an ear at me and rumbling, still kept his eyes fixed on that small, hidden bullseye of a target.

"Looks dry...," he observed, and I wanted to groan, not from pleasure, but from exasperation with his weird running commentary on what he was doing to my ass for God's sake.

"Of course it's dry, Brock, for Go' - ahhh!" I hollered as the Dobie suddenly hacked and spat a huge wad from his maw directly against my tailhole.

I felt my suddenly wet muscle clench heavily at the feeling of the sudden splat of spit over my flesh, and I bit my teeth together when my cock throbbed against the rough blanket. I seriously considered humping it and ending this all, but couldn't bring myself to do it. Not yet...not when Brock's fingerpad rubbed over my tailhole and spread his spit around the flesh to make it slick. Briefly I wondered if he was planning to fuck me without the gun oil he had once again brought with him, but then he just hacked up another wad of spit straight at my ass, and I felt it trickle wetly against my crack.

Brock's paws cupped my ass cheeks and squeezed them hard.

"Put it up a bit," he snorted, and I complied, rearranging my knees so that my ass was tilted up better than before.

The Dobie kneaded my ass some more, again using his thumbs to pry me open ,and I flicked my tail at the feeling that created on my rump regions, since he must have been tugging at nerves or whatever you call them when he did that to expose more of me to him again.

"Just don't you think I'm gonna make a habit out of this," the horny dog growled before he pushed his muzzle down between my offered rump cheeks.

Fuck, I practically bit down on my tongue when I felt Brock's chin slap against my crack, and the coolness of his nosepad when it pressed to the base of my docked tail. That put him in a perfect position to do what I had been told to do to him in that storage room what felt like ages ago. He huffed a breath over my wet skin and I gasped and hollered his name, and I saw him flick his ears.

That was the last thing I saw of him for now, since I simply had to rest down and press my forehead against one of my paws and bury my muzzle against the bed, I didn't want to come mewling and growling like a mad dog. Quite frankly, I didn't want to sound as much like a bitch in heat as I was already feeling like I was.

I heard him sniff around my tail region and I guess he was checking if it really was okay, and allegedly I was okay since I felt him make an experimental lick with his tongue, just quickly along my crack. He didn't even really touch my tailhole on that first go, but boy did he on the next. I grunted and growled against my forearm while Brock worked on my ass, his paws still busy groping it while his tongue scooped up and down and around my spit-slicked pucker. My head swam with scent and sensations beyond imagination while the Dobie was busy teasing me in such a naughty manner.

His hot breaths ran along my back and my crevice all the way down to my balls, and I jerked and shook with each pass of hot tongue against my most hidden muscle. It was hard to decide which was better, his breaths or his tongue, but it all felt great, especially when he let his hot spit drip down my crack and then he'd lick it up and growl at the same time as he worked on me. Things were getting really hot and wet down there, and my muscle ring pulsed with anticipation of ouch tough inflicted upon it.

Brock must've really gotten into it since he kept going at me for a long time, or at least it felt like a really long time, but my brain was completely muddled by then, so it was hard to keep track anyway. His tongue circled and probed my bud, and his chin was pressed into my crack and tickled quite a lot, but it all disappeared under the breathtaking pleasure of being touched by the horny hunk of a soldier. My tail trashed with all these good feelings, and my hips quivered in a feeble attempt to hump the mattress, but I fought to keep still, even when Brock spat against my hot pucker again and went on spreading his wet saliva around.

I moaned loudly when the cool underground air hit my pucker once he extracted himself from my ass, and I heard Brock's panting breaths better now. Only a moment later I felt a hot pressure against my rump and my tailhole, and I dared myself to turn my head and open my eyes to see what was going on.

Brock, still holding onto my hips, had pushed his groin against my ass, and now his dripping wet cock was lodged between my spread ass cheeks. He bared his teeth once he saw that I was watching him, and began to hump me hard, sliding his slick member between my rump cheeks. I moaned at the feeling of his hot flesh against my wet tailhole, and his knot kept bumping against my balls almost painfully while Brock kept slamming his hips against my ass in weird dry fucking.

He didn't keep it up for long though, and judging from his grimace as he pulled back I suspected that he had been too close for comfort already. He was already reaching for the abandoned bottle of gun oil which he quickly opened and poured some of it over his huge paw. I watched him give his cock a couple of tugs as he carefully spread the slick fluid all over himself before he put the bottle away and gave my ass a swat.

I yelped, but Brock didn't care, he was already prying my rump cheek apart and prodding fingers against my slick tailhole. He really wasn't in the mood for more slow burning action it seemed, since he was already pushing heavily against my ring, and with a hiss from me he managed to push a thick finger straight into me. I felt my innards grab onto his finger while it pulled back, only to soon be joined by another one as he jammed those fingers into my tail tunnel.

I bit my teeth together at the feeling of being suddenly stretched, but the slight discomfort was displaced by the feeling of that odd pleasurable feeling I got deep in my belly when something was inside me, and this time it was brought on by Brock's fingers feeling around inside me and spreading the oil at the same time. He wriggled those fingers within my hot ass for a few additional moments before he withdrew, and I knew I was going to get mounted.

"Time to saddle up for a bit of a bonanza, doggie," Brock grunted before he moved forward, cock held in his paw, and guided it to rest between the halves of my rump.

I pressed my forehead down against my forearm and waited, and he seemed to be waiting too, simply holding his oiled tip poised at my entrance. I felt it pulse with his heartbeat, I felt his breaths on my sweaty back, and Brock's paws gripped my sides firmly.

This time he didn't settle for a slow, protracted entry, but instead he simply began to thrust against my flesh, applying more and more pressure with each thrust. My puckered hole only managed to resist for a few moments before it began to admit his cock inside me. At first Brock kept slipping out of me, but with each thrusts he pressed against me even more intently than before, and with a loud gasp from us both he finally pierced the final resistance, and I felt three extra inched join the first that had pierced me. My muscles were stretched wide, but he simply kept thrusting, now gaining an inch with each push into my bowels. This went on until his knot was jammed between my ass cheeks, and at the feeling of that fleshy presence, Brock held his hips still for a while.

I was trying to calm down my breaths and relax at the invasion of dog cock into me, but my innards kept squeezing on him, and that sent another surge of that strange indescribable pleasure through my belly an all the way down to my balls. My cock throbbed between my belly and the mattress, having lost none of its firmness. Brocks paws rested on my hips, but soon they began to move, and I felt him lay over me.

We lay almost flat on the bed by then, our bodies entwined, knee pressing against a knee while Brock took me, face down and my ass up in the air. His chest pressed over my back and his lips touched the back of my head while felt his paws catch a hold of my sides. My furs prickled and I moaned his name, and he growled deeply, and pressed his teeth over my shoulder in a mating bite.

He began to fuck me properly by then, though, and it became the strangest one we'd have yet. I was on my belly, so I really couldn't do anything but just lay still and take it up the tail, and with Brock's legs pushed straight back he didn't have as much leverage as usual. To add to that, the bed had springs, and each thrusts was returned by the bed itself, and it was soon shaking and creaking dangerously while the Dobie plowed in and out of my rump.

The Dobie was going at it with all his might, though, and he really didn't hold anything back while he pounded into my upturned rump with heavy, ball-smacking thrusts. His slick cock wormed its way in and out of my ass smoothly, and our bodies rubbed heavily together as muscle collided with muscle everywhere. Sometimes he'd thrusting and he simply ground his cock all around inside me, tilting his hips and making it slurp in and out in strange angles.

Mostly it was just hard, breathtaking rutting as he owned my ass that was marked for him. Brock panted hotly against my neck and kept nipping my shoulder, and I felt it swell even as much as I felt my cock throb painfully as his thrusting propelled it to rub against the scratchy fabric of the army blanket. My oozing pre helped only a little, but what was really distracting me was the slamming of Brock's knot against my tailhole. I knew he wanted to get it in sooner or later, and I knew it was going to feel like a kick of a boot inside my goddamned ass, but I knew I wanted it happen.

The soldier's stamina seemed to be waning, too, since while he still kept thrusting in and out of my stretched hole at a fast pace, his trusts were coming with less force, as if he was trying to keep them less intense and that way stop himself from blowing his load right there. That still didn't mean that each thrust didn't feel like a punch in the gut reversed, and Brock had me growling and huffing constantly while he soundly took my tailhole.

The bedsprings squeaked and our flesh made rude noises together, and our panting breaths echoed off the green concrete walls of the doomsday bunker. Maybe it was appropriate, since we certainly were waiting for an explosion to happen, a blast of cum and musk and growls.

Brock's teeth closed around my shoulder painfully, and I knew it was going to happen, and I let my body fall fully limp under him while I felt him brace for it.

It took him three heavy, powerful thrusts against my ring before Brock finally forced his thick knot inside me. My hole spasmed and the muscle complained at being so greatly stretched by such a big lump of meat, but once it passed my innards took a firm hold of Brock's cock, and with a muffled groan I began to thrusts.

In a way, it was me and not Brock who fucked us both into a mind-boggling orgasm. It was my hips going up and down the couple of inches they could with Brock's giant knot deeply embedded into my distended back passage. That movement was still enough for me to rub my cock against the blanket-covered bed so that my balls started to give up their frothy load in powerful squirts. I howled against my arm while I kept fucking the bed and forcing more and more cum from me, and my movements were enough to send the Dobie on top of me over the edge as well.

His bite was renewed as Brock came, his hips continuing to hump my rear while he flooded my bowels with what must've been a dozen spurts of potent dog cum. His entire body flexed and strained and he kept snorting and grunting with each involuntary, sucking motion of my tailhole and my innards over his overused cock. That combined plunging motion was starting to force some of his cum out of me, and I felt his cum mix with his spit on my crack while our spent balls nestled together and were soon glued by strands of fresh, hot Dobie cum.

Brock collapsed on top of me with a loud sign, and I grunted as his mere bulk forced the air out of my lungs. I was still breathing heavily and my tongue hang out of my maw. I was feeling sticky and hot all over, and my ass felt full and wet, and there was a pile of dog on top of me that wasn't intent on moving.

"God....*pant* *pant* fucking *pant* *huff* damn *grow* , Jack...," the Dobie vocalized against my neck, and licked a few drops of sweat off my skin.

Brock held onto me and I turned my head weakly to look at him, and I gave him a tired smile.

The Dobie looked at me and winked.

"You mind we missed those beers, Jack?" he smiled, and gave my nosepad an annoyingly ticklish lick.

"Not really, no, "I snorted at him, and felt him wriggle his hips as he settled into a now position above me.

That made his knot push against my tailhole briefly, and I hissed at the weighty feeling, but Brock just grinned and nuzzled the side of my face, surprisingly softly, that was, too.

"Well, there's Sergeant Hamilton's whiskey stash inside that medicine cabin out there," Brock spoke and flicked an ear towards the wall where the desk was located, and I saw the white cabinet on the wall, marked with the familiar red cross.

I grinned at my Dobie private, and kissed his chin.

"First off, though," he smirked and blew me a kiss over the few inches that separated our faces.

"Round two."

*

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