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New Friends (Chapter 2)

Hey, Kyle here to thank you for having faith in my limited story-telling abilities and continuing on from the first story to this 'un. By the by, having not read the first story may somewhat hinder your ability to understand what's goin' on here... So might I recommend it? This one will be mostly about their pasts. Thanks a lot, Cheers. By the way, again, I do not own the characters portrayed within this story... They are copyright of Don Bluth, United Artists, and Universal... Or something like that. Comments are welcomed; I'd love to have some constructive criticism. Enjoy. Alsooooo... You may notice the word flivver in the story. Not important to the story in any way shape or form, but I love the word. So delightful. Nabbed it from Brave New World; an old expression for the Ford Model T. (You know, "Orgy-porgy, Ford and fun, Kiss the girls and make them One. Boys at 0ne with girls at peace; Orgy-porgy gives release.")

Tossing aside a stripped bone, Charlie belched, wiping his muzzle on his paw. Yawning widely, he got up, stretching slowly in that way dogs have, then walked over and lay before Balto. Looking pensive, he opened his muzzle and asked "So... Is it true?", tilting his head slightly as he peered at Balto. Balto looked back at him, fur suddenly standing up on his back. Fighting to keep anger from his voice, he growled "Uh... Might have t'be more specific there, Charlie...", challenging Charlie to speak of Jenna's death. "Oh, come off it, you idiot," Charlie said, laughing a little at Balto's reaction. However, seeing his mood, his face grew serious. "I'm not talking about that. I believe you..." he said, smiling when Balto relaxed slightly. "I mean the wolf business... Is it true you're half 'n half?" he asked, speaking slowly as if to a pup. However, his know-it-all tone was offset by the big goofy grin on his face and the steady wag to his tail. Balto relaxed again, relieved that Charlie believed his story. It seemed almost no one did in Nome; knowing that he had a friend to count on (friends, Itchy too, he thought) was a great feeling. However, his mood fell again at the mention of his breeding. Suddenly nervous, he shifted anxiously. "Well... Partially, at least," he said, gulping. "Uh... Can I trust you with a secret?" he asked, staring directly into Charlie's eyes. If Charlie was put off by the intensity of his stare, he gave no sign, just inclined his head in the affirmative. Balto stared for a moment longer, then snorted, satisfied. "Well... My mother was a wolf; everyone here knows that. What no one has ever known was... My... My dad was too. So... technically that makes me full wolf, I guess..." he said, trailing off. Charlie looked surprised for a moment, but not the least bit put off. "Neato... Ain't that cool, Itch? We know a wolf!" Charlie exclaimed jokingly, glancing in the smaller mutt's direction. Pausing in his incessant scratching for just long enough to nod, Itchy suddenly gave a loud grunt and resumed with more vigour than before. "Ach, you're hopeless," Charlie said in mock despair. "It's not worth it being with you, it simply isn't." Balto chuckled at their antics, surprised at Charlie's reaction. "So... You don't care that you're associating with a wolf?" he asked, widening his eyes. "Why would I? What difference does it make?" Charlie asked, genuinely surprised. "Well... Most around here think I'm wild, and dangerous... So they don't like hanging with me," Balto said, growling slightly. "What's wrong with a little wild? Everyone is, too a degree... Except little ol' Itch here. Lilly-liver to the end!" he laughed, punching Itchy lightly on the shoulder. Glaring up at Charlie, Itchy did his very best to look angry, but failed miserably and ended up bursting into laughter, punching Charlie back. Balto grinned, feeling a sudden feeling of awe that he should have been graced with such friends. Suddenly, on the back of this feeling came an inquisitive urge. He realized that he actually new essentially nothing of them; who they were before Nome, how they ended up as friends (a German Shepherd and a Dachshund make an unusual pair). Tilting his head slightly, Balto opened his muzzle, then closed it again, unsure of how to proceed. Charlie sensed his discomfort, and glanced back at him, confused. "What's the matter, wolfy? Cat got yer tongue?" he asked, miming snatching Itchy's tongue. "Oh, nothing really... Well... I was just wondering... Who are you?" Balto asked, curious. Noticing a silly grin forming on Charlie's face, he added quickly "Obviously I know your names, so you can just shut up now, Charlie, before that snide comment leaves your mangy muzzle, but who are you really?" he finished, laying down again. Charlie looked wistfully at Itchy, seemingly for permission, but when Itchy said nothing, he looked back at Balto and began. "Weelllll... If you're in the mood for a long and often fanciful, and sometimes downright ludicrous tale, you've come to the right mutts!" Charlie exclaimed, wagging his straggly tail. "Right, Itch?" he asked, glancing over at the dachshund. Itchy rolled his eyes comically, grinning a little. "Whatever you say, boss," he said, wagging his stumpy tail. "Just be prepared for some incredu... incredulity!" he finished, snorting. Balto settled in, saying "I'm always game for a good story." Waiting a few moments, he started again, saying "Well? You gonna tell me, or am I going to have to make you up a story?" Glaring at Balto, Charlie rolled his eyes. "Ever hear of 'gathering thoughts'? Have some patience, you bugger..." he said, bedding down a bit. "Stop me if you have something to add, Itch..." Charlie asked, rolling a stone back and forth across his claws. "Well... I guess the beginning is as good a place as any. I was whelped of Burt and Loni Barkin, in New Orleans 5 years ago. Itch over there... Well, no one knows, not even him. He was abandoned; I struck out on my own," Charlie commented, patting Itchy on the head. "It was a hard life, but the more time you spend on your own (I'm sure you get this), you start to adapt to it, and when Fate starts flinging shit in your face, you learn to fling it right on back, eh?" At this, Charlie gave a little chuckle. Thinking a moment more, he continued. "So, let me paint you a little mental picture here and now, how's about? We got one starving sheppy, barely a year old, living out in the junkyard. Every day is a fight; every day he finds himself reopening old wounds in the brawls over food. However, as these fights progress, the wounds start healing, and our little pup becomes stronger, tougher, and meaner, until he's king of that shitheap known as Don's Auto Wrecking. Dogs come to realize he won't back down, you can't really beat a mad dog, can you? Not to say I was mad; well, as much as any of us are, but... Not to sound rude, but I'm sure you know the feeling. Lonely, scared, and only your anger to sustain you? However, I was a good actor; being known as mad has some definite advantages. I had never known an instant of love or care in my entire short life." Charlie paused, looking bashful. "Now, don't believe this is going to be a pathetic little sob story; trust me, it gets... Better? More interesting, at the very least." The junkyard appears clear, but Charlie knows better than to just trust his vision. Too many times have dogs snuck under the wrecked autos and come to raid his food stash, and too many times have they gotten away with it while he was sleeping. 'Not today, mutts!' he thinks grimly, springing back over a wrecked flivver. A faint flash of brown fur crosses his vision; snarling deep in the pit of his stomach he springs forward, pumping his powerful thighs forward. Flying forward at reckless speeds through the towers of rusted metal and shattered glass, Charlie heedlessly pursued his target, foaming slightly in preparation of his mad act. However, he knew a shortcut towards his food, which would place him there well ahead of the other mutt. A sharp right under the Packard appears to take him way off course, but behind the wrecked car is a long narrow pathway leading directly back to his food, blocked at the end by a low Stutz which he easily pounced over. "Now..." he panted, "Now we'll see who's come to steal MY food!" Charlie paused here. "Now, understand, Balto, I had to play the role? Part of playing the role meant actually becoming mad for me; that's part of why I did it so convincingly." A hesitant nose poked out from behind an old Dort ('Most Reliable Car in the World my ass' Charlie thought), sniffing slowly. Apparently the intruder missed his scent (although, as Charlie hadn't cleaned himself properly in months, this was nothing short of a miracle), and a long but squat brown body followed the nose, eyes alighted upon the stack of food in the middle of the clearing. Seizing the opportunity, Charlie leaped forward from the shadows, landing with a thump behind this little weiner to block it's exit. Too late did the small dog see him coming, and he hadn't even begun to turn when Charlie seized the puny thing's neck in his jaws. Despite what others may have thought seeing this, though, Charlie was careful in his grip; he had never killed and he did not want to make this his first.

"Now..." Charlie growled around his prey, "Give me one good reason why I shouldn't snap your fucking neck, weiner!" The little dog gave the small shriek that Charlie had come to expect, but what he did next surprised even Charlie. His hind leg popped up, heedless of his predicament, and began scratching at his neck vigorously, the little thing moaning and groaning loudly. The entire effect was totally ridiculous, and something awoke in Charlie that he hadn't felt in a long time... Humour. Dropping the little dog in a heap on the ground, Charlie bowled over onto his back, laughing fit to bust a rib. Months of stored anger and frustration seemed to melt away in that single instant, and all that mattered was his laugh. He howled in laughter, tail swinging wildly, all the while rolling around on his back in the refuse.

"Uh... AGH!" the little dog commented, resuming his vigorous scratching. Apparently whatever demon fleas possessed him were winning the battle; his efforts seemed totally in vain. Gaining control over his laughter, Charlie stood up and grabbed the little dog's kicking hind leg, stopping its mad assault upon the little dachshund's neck. "I asked you a question!" Charlie snarled in what he hoped was a vicious voice, but he couldn't keep a straight face and erupted again into gales of laughter. At this point, the little dog realized when something good had come to him and decided to steal away from the maniacal dog. However, his stomach got the better of him, and before he left he snitched a piece of steak.

Clearing his throat, Charlie wiped briefly at his eyes before remembering that he didn't have tear ducts. Still wagging his tail slightly, he opened his mouth to speak, but then realized the little guy was gone. "Duped!" Charlie exclaimed, noticing a discrepancy in the height of the steak pile. "Little bugger..." he muttered, leaping off in pursuit.

Itchy (for he was the dachshund in question) made straight for the little hut on the outskirts of the yard, dragging the large steak along behind him. Every now and then he stopped to scratch, but for the most part he kept up a good steady clip (as fast as he could with stubby legs), and within about five minutes he had reached what he felt would be shelter. Standing an unsteady two stories in height, the building looked decrepit and dangerous... But he didn't have many options. Poking his head into a hole in the side of the ramshackle structure, he saw that it was clear and darted in the hole, hiding under an old couch.

For several minutes, Itchy heard nothing. Lifting his ungainly ears, he listened carefully, but to him it seemed he had given the mad dog the slip, and gotten away with the prize too. Satisfied with himself, he slipped out from his hiding spot, well prepared to leave the junkyard and never return. Had this happened, his life may have turned out vastly different, but fate had other plans in store for this little dachshund.

Stepping up silently out of the shadows, Charlie said "You know, stealing isn't very nice...". However, there was no threat in his voice this time, and he cracked a kind and understanding grin on his long tan muzzle. However, as he had expected, the little dog wanted nothing to do with him and bolted for the exit... Which was where Charlie was standing. "Relax, little pal, I'm not gonna hurt you..." Charlie said, exposing his neck in a submissive display. Noticing the little dog's emaciated body, he grinned once more and commented "But don't worry, the steak's on the house. You could use a little meat on those bones..."

Itchy stopped scratching briefly, confused by the kindness in the shepherd-mix's voice. At first he couldn't believe that this was coming from the dog who had threatened to kill him only 15 minutes before, but studying the big dog's earnest expression and body pose, he calmed down a little. It seemed he wasn't going to be dying today. "Um... Thanks?" Itchy said hesitantly, searching for any signs of impending attack. "Oh, will you relax? God, if I was going to hurt you, don't you think I would have by now?" Charlie exclaimed in frustration, laying down before the other dog. "If you really want to go, then I won't keep you. All I wanted was someone to talk to..." Charlie muttered resignedly, sighing heavily. Scooting sideways, he moved out of the entrance to the shack, revealing the glorious rays of the sun from the gorgeous day outside. Stepping gently, Itchy grabbed his ill-gotten steak and walked carefully around the large mutt, watching carefully for any tension in his body. However, all he saw was resigned relaxation. Stepping out through the hole, Itchy moved to walk away, but again fate had other plans. As he began to walk away, he caught a faint sound from behind. Lifting an ear flap, he turned back in confusion, amazed to be hearing snuffling, dare-he-say crying sounds? Indeed, the large dog had his paw across his face and was moaning slightly, appearing for all the world to be crying. Torn internally between staying and running, Itchy remained in place for several seconds, then made up his mind. Walking back towards the hut, he poked his head back through the hole, mindful of the broken boards all around. "Hey... Are you okay?" Itchy asked, concerned for the other dog. The larger dog jerked in surprise, and quickly lifted his paw away from his face, sniffing in deeply to hold back the sobs. Growling gruffly, Charlie said "What are you still doing here? Go on, you can go! Go back to your own life!" Rubbing a paw across his nose, he made it appear as though he had simply had a runny nose, but Itchy wasn't fooled. "What's up? Why are you so sad?" Itchy asked, sniffing at the other dog's slightly gamey scent. By the smell of it, the dog hadn't properly cleaned his fur in many weeks, and the smell, while not bad per say, was somewhat stronger than usual. However, Itchy could sympathize with this; he hadn't had the opportunity to bath in weeks as well. "Nothing! I'm fine. Cold," Charlie said in the same gruff tone of voice, but when Itchy merely raised an eyebrow, he sighed. "I'm... I'm lonely, that's all. I was hoping for a little conversation to brighten my day..." he murmured, wagging his tail slightly. "I haven't actually really had any... Contact? With other dogs in a sociable manner in a long time," he finished, looking down abashedly. "I'm afraid I've forgotten how to carry on a polite conversation... Blast."

Itchy sympathized with the other dog. He hadn't really had a conversation in weeks now, and he could understand the feeling of rustiness, of not knowing what to say. "Oh, relax... It's not like I have anything better to do, really..." he said, laying down in front of Charlie. "I can stay a while. So... What's yer name?" he asked, looking at Charlie's scarred muzzle.

Charlie looked up, surprised. "You... You actually want to stay?" he asked, amazed. "After how I greeted you?" At this, Itchy just made a little shrug, as if to say 'I'm used to it'. "Well... The name's Barkin. Charlie B. Barkin. And you are?" he asked, wagging his tail slowly.

"The name's Itchy. And you can just stop laughing now, Charlie," he growled slightly. Charlie himself was out again, laughing fit to bust a rib and rolling on the floor. The irony of the name choice struck him as deliciously funny. "Are you through?" Itchy asked, glaring slightly at the older dog. When he nodded, still chortling slightly, Itchy continued. "Itchiford is my last name, of course."

With this, they were off. After a few somewhat awkward minutes, they both began to speak more, and before they knew it, it was nightfall already. They had talked about everything, from trivial matters such as food to more in depth things like beliefs, and found many similarities between themselves. Both had a thing for gambling, and both had the drive to pursue their goals. Also, it didn't hurt that they shared a sense of humour.

Looking around, Itchy yawned. "Well, I oughta get out of here... Don't wanna keep you up too late." he murmured, yawning again with a loud crack of his jaw.

"Oh, whatever. Say, where would you even stay? You got a place?" Charlie asked, looking seriously at the other dog, his new-found friend. Now that he had found Itchy, he didn't think he would ever want to lose him.

Itchy grimaced, frowning. "No, not really, I just kinda sleep wherever... "

"Well, then, it's settled. You'll stay with me! You'll love my place... Canopy bed, under the stars... It's got whitewalls, shiny radiator... I live in a cab! Low mileage, of course..." Charlie said, chuckling slightly at his own wit.

Itchy looked back, slightly unbelieving. "Really? Why? Like, I met you today! Don't get me wrong, I'd love to, but do you really want some other mutt living in your place?"

Grinning, Charlie just shook his head. "Come on, sleepy, I'll show you to your accommodations. Now, don't expect the Ritz; there aren't any Duesenbergs in this junk pile, but it's better than outside." Wagging his tail again, he trotted off back nearer to his food pile, making sure Itchy followed. Weaving his way through the junk piles again, he and Itchy walked in comfortable silence, as if they had known each other their whole lives.

After a couple minutes, they arrived at a red cab, resting on flat whitewalls as promised. Charlie popped the door handle, swinging the squeaky door noisily open, and gestured Itchy in. "Ladies first!" he said, grinning. Which of course led to a short tussle, ending with Itchy being tossed bodily into the car. Once inside, Itchy bedded down in the front, with Charlie in the back. "Goodnight..." they both muttered in unison, eyelids feeling suddenly heavy. And so sleep overcame both, and together they drifted off into warm and happy dreams, realizing just how lucky they were to have found each other.

"Well, that about covers how we met each other, wouldn't you say, Itch?" Charlie said, yawning slightly. Itchy nodded sleepily, then rested his head back on his short paws. Smiling, Charlie tussled Itchy's headfur briefly, then turned back to Balto. "Anyways, I'm tired, and you are too. So... They rest can wait, ja?" he said, smiling.

Balto nodded back sleepily, smiling slightly. The story had been fascinating, but somehow draining to listen to, as if he himself had lived through that eventful day so long ago. "I'm going to get some shuteye," Balto said, bedding down in his old blanket. "Charlie, Itchy... G'night," he said, closing his eyes. His appetite for background had been sated somewhat, but he still wanted to know the whole thing. However, he guessed he would have to wait for another time.

Charlie followed Balto's example, and was soon snoring quietly beside them, lips flapping slightly with each snort. However, Itchy remained awake, still thinking about that first night. Oh, Charlie had been quite specific in telling the story, but he had left out one rather large portion... As Itchy thought about it, he could feel his sheath drawing tight as his member swelled slightly.

In the middle of the night, Charlie woke up on some silent intuition, feeling watched. Flinging his head around wildly, his eyes adjusting to the light, he growled loudly, hoping to scare away whatever was watching. However, as his eyes adjusted, he caught sight of a familiar brown face, and suddenly everything clicked into place. "Uh... Wha?" Charlie groaned, stretching laboriously. However, he got no answer, and Itchy just continued staring at him.

Itchy's own mind was full of turmoil. Some time before, he had woken up with a desperate feeling of love for the older dog, and he had no idea what to do about it. However, what he could tell was that this couldn't wait for the morning, it had to be told now. He couldn't find the courage to speak up, though, and so had contented himself with watching Charlie as he slept, drinking in the details of his powerful body. His gaze traced through the deep scars on his muzzle and chest, following the defined musculature, and seeing the beautiful plush fur in a new light. However, as his gaze wandered lower, Itchy caught himself blushing, but couldn't look away. Charlie had rolled onto his side while sleeping, exposing all he had to offer to Itchy's watchful eyes. First they took in the large smooth black balls dangling between Charlie's legs; Itchy could only imagine what they held. Then his eyes drifted forwards slightly to Charlie's long golden sheath, and as he dreamt of what lay within he caught himself licking his lips. He had never considered himself a homosexual dog, but staring at Charlie right now, he found that he didn't care.

"Um... Is there something wrong, Itch?" Charlie asked in confusion, cocking his eyebrow up. As though he had awakened from a reverie, Itchy jerked at his voice, then snapped his eyes back to Charlie's face, blushing slightly.

"I... I... Uh..." Itchy began, not quite knowing what to say. Finally, swallowing hard, he continued. "I have something to tell you."

"Oh yeah? Something so important that it couldn't wait for morning?" Charlie asked, bemused at Itchy's failing speech.

"Well, yes. See, the thing is... I... I think I love you, Charlie," Itchy said, blushing furiously. Suddenly, the need to scratch was back with a vengeance, and with a grunt he fell back from the top of the seat, kicking at his neck with all his might.

Charlie was stunned. At first, he couldn't think of a thing to say. However, as he thought about it slowly, something in what he said started to ring true with him as well. Thinking about Itchy had given him a sort of tingle, a rush of joy and awe, and Charlie suddenly realized that he too loved the ridiculous little dog. Getting up slowly, he leaped up and over the back of the front seat, landing beside the writhing lump that was Itchy. "Itchy!" he whispered, poking him gently. With a slight moan, Itchy started kicking harder, and Charlie brought his head down to Itchy's and whisper-yelled "ITCHY!" in his ear. That caught his attention.

Once Itchy had calmed slightly, Charlie started again. "Listen, uh, I think I have something to tell you too," he said, as inexperienced in matters of love as Itchy. "I... Oh, screw it all. I love you too, Itchy Itchiford, right down to the last flea." As he said these words, he felt a flare of that emotion again deep within his chest, and realized that this was what it felt like to be in love.

Charlie's feelings were mirrored in Itchy. He too felt a powerful surge of love towards the strong dog before him, and before he could stop and think about what he was doing, Itchy pushed his muzzle up to Charlie's and kissed him.

Somewhat taken aback by Itchy's suddenness, Charlie's first instinct was to pull back, but then he realized what Itchy was doing and kissed back. Turning his muzzle slightly, he opened his mouth, Itchy following suit, and they proceeded to kiss deeply and passionately, tongues writhing in a dance of passion within each other's maws.

Finally, Itchy broke the kiss. Panting slightly from lack of oxygen, he stared in awe at the dog before him, whom he hadn't known existed before this morning; the dog who had threatened to kill him just hours ago. Itchy now realized that this had been an act, and forgave him for it. Taking another deep breath, he locked muzzles with Charlie again, tasting Charlie for all he had.

This time, it was Charlie who broke the kiss, panting. Silently, he motioned Itchy to lay down, and then kissed him gently on the muzzle. Spinning Itchy around on his front seat, Charlie began to kiss Itchy's chest, drawing ever lower and lower towards the burgeoning brown sheath down below. Breathing deeply, Charlie took in Itchy's musky male odour, and found himself getting turned on by it; he could feel his own cock stirring in his sheath.

Itchy sighed, not believing what was happening. The dog of his dreams, who he had never dreamt of before this day, was kissing him! He too felt primal urges stirring, and felt a pulsing in his groin which he had never felt before.

Finally through with Itchy's stomach, Charlie moved lower yet, giving Itchy's firm packed balls a good tongue bath. The little dog's sheath was visibly thickening, and as he watched the pink tip of Itchy's sex slipped forth, thickening the air with his musk. Moving his muzzle back a bit, Charlie gave a hesitant lick to Itchy's pointy tip, and found the flavour to his liking, so he dove down on Itchy's cock, suckling it into his mouth and pushing back Itchy's sheath with his lips.

As a wave of euphoric pleasure swept over Itchy, he began to feel as though he were in heaven. Moaning loudly, he began to shift his hips back and forth, feeling a jet of pre shoot through his firming shaft for the first time in his life. However, he wasn't content with just sitting passively by. Pulling back on Charlie's hind legs with his paws, he positioned Charlie so that his massive bulging sheath was right over Itchy's mouth. Reaching up, Itchy wasted no time in licking and suckling at the pink tip which had issued forth from the end. He heard a loud moan from Charlie, and then a jet of clear fluid shot from the tip directly into Itchy's mouth. He rolled it around on his tongue briefly; it had a tangy salty flavour which he had never tasted before in his life, but he knew he had to have more.

Hoping Itchy would understand, Charlie began to speed up on his sucking, and at the same time he started to thrust his hips gently downwards, powering his growing cock in and out of Itchy's hot mouth. Itchy took the hint, and began to do the same, thrusting his growing member in and out of Charlie's mouth at an ever increasing speed.

As both continued picking up speed, their stomachs started to feel warm with the spurted pre from the other's body. Along with this feeling of delicious inner warmth came a feeling of being stretched; both of their knots had begun to swell, and their mouths were being stretched wide.

Charlie himself was quite surprised; it seemed that Itchy's cock, while not as big as his own, was much too large for the little dog's body, and he found his muzzle stretching open wider than it had before on Itchy's growing bulge. Itchy himself was a little more taxed, dealing with both a larger cock and having a smaller muzzle, but he coped as best he could, enjoying the feeling rather than let it discomfort him.

Finally, both of their thrusting reached a fever pitch; there was only one thing left to happen, and happen it did! Itchy blew first; he had never masturbated or had sex and thus had no experience on keeping it in. Howling around Charlie's engorged sex, Itchy painted the inside of Charlie's muzzle with his thin strong seed, and later he would swear he actually felt lighter after having blown this first load. Clamping his muzzle down around Charlie's cock tighter, he began to suck in earnest, wrapping his tongue around and around the base of Charlie's knot while he pumped his seed straight into Charlie.

As experienced as Charlie may have been with masturbation, he too had never actually experienced sex, and so when Itchy began blowing his hot salty load all over his throat, it all became too much for Charlie. Growling lustfully, he rammed his cock down Itchy's throat once, twice, three times before howling quietly around Itchy's throbbing cock and plunging his knot deep into Itchy's maw. Short thrusting, he felt his knot begin to balloon in size, and felt Itchy's teeth cut into the flesh of his knot a little as his mouth was filled to the limit. Finally, with one last triumphant thrust, he exploded (quite literally) into Itchy's mouth and throat, blasting powerful shots of thin potent jizz deep into his lover's body.

Finally, both of their climaxes finished, and their cocks resorted back to squirting clear, less-rich pre. Both were feeling delightfully full and complete at this point in time, and with a grunt Charlie rolled over onto his side, pulling Itchy over slightly. There they lay, gently stroking the other's body and breathing in the other's musk through their fur, grinning happily to themselves, amazed and ecstatic to have found someone so perfect to love. Cocks in mouths, they drifted off into sweet dreams, and screwed each other silly all over again in dreams.