The canine smiled, seeing the shimmer of the sea coupled with the cry of seagulls in the distance. He felt the winds of cooling sea breeze caress the fur on his body, carrying the smell of the sea with it. Taking another sip of his soda, he could not help think how amazing this place was, that it was his home, where every day after school, he could come back to this wonderful haven of sun, sand and sea. His grin widened, placing the soda can on the nearby table with a happy sigh.
He walked from the kitchen, wagging his tail as he headed out to the glass sliding doors that led to the beach, stretching as he placed the soda can aside. Then he caught a glance of himself while he passed his bathroom, seeing his reflection in the mirror. There he stood, a rather slim yet fit body, sculpted from being on the swim team at high school and now at university. His muscles stood out, but not like those of bodybuilders, and he liked it that way, being a blend of skinny yet fit. To top it all off, his brown fur was complimented with a lovely blue speedo that felt so comfortable and snug, not to mention it was his favorite color.
The school didn’t cut corners with training, and the swim team had won medals in numerous games. As such, all their members were given Olympic standard swimwear, and he loved how the high cut looked. It made the team look so sleek, and the V-shape added a tinge of style and professionalism. He turned and walked to the mirror, hands stroking about his sides and behind, feeling the lycra. His grin soon had a tinge of mischief as his fingers trailed from the sides to his crotch. He loved how it looked, how the blue stood out against his fur, how it felt as it seemed to cradle his loins like a pair of loving and secure hands. He loved how smooth it was, rubbing his fingers all about it, how sexy it felt to wear them, free of constraints. Perhaps it was narcissistic of him, but he loved how he looked right now as well.
Where he lived, the heat of summer was there all year round because of the climate. The canine knew this well, like his friends in the team and with his relatives. Though at first it had been weird and out of the norm, but for him, this speedo he donned, was by all accounts, his underwear as well. He wore lycra to school, to swim, to work out at the gym, to sleep, for just about everything. It gave such good support, and it was so normal to just wear the trunks and some slippers out of the house, considering how close he was to the beach. He could even walk out in his speedos, head to the diner at the beach and get a takeaway and no one would stare or think it out of place.
He remembered the day too, many years ago as he stayed over at a friend’s place, and then catching a glimpse as the father undressed, revealing a bright red speedo. The older brother too sported trunks as well, choosing striking purple. The years went by, and he mixed with other people who shared interest in aquatic sports, and he grew to love nylon and lycra, and found solace that his friends too shared in this. There was lots of talk, of how swimmers who became fathers, eventually convincing their sons to convert to speedos too. It was entirely normal for them, but a normal for those who loved the water that was spreading slowly but surely where swimwear and trunks soon grew to be more than just attire for the pool or the beach.
The dog agreed mentally with this, considering how he wore lycra far more than he ever wore cotton for underwear. Not to mention he could simply walk right out of his house and be greeted with warm sands beneath his feet. As a swimmer, and lover of speedos, this was a true home to him, and he turned to leave, intending to catch some sun.
Suddenly he felt a cold shiver run down his spine, making him stop entirely. Arousal spiked up in his brain as he murred softly, giving himself a grope. This was not entirely new to him, and he felt happy, welcoming this sudden change. Because he had been in a tropical climate, the heat all year round was similar to that of summer. Where other countries had their spring and autumns and winters, his place was hot, more hot, superbly hot, and rain. For some reason though, his body would react like it was always under heat in this place.
He walked slowly, a hand at his bulge that kept groping and fondling. As moans escaped his throat, his fingers continued to stroke at the lycra-clad package, coaxing pre to emerge and darken the tip of the bulge. He could barely resist it, feeling the primal urge of estrus slowly overwhelming his mind, and he accepted it, letting it take the reigns as he masturbated through the blue lycra. His heartbeat quickened, giving him a thrill as he laid on the couch, whining in delight as the wet pre spot continued to grow, making squelching noises with each squeeze of his bulge.
In his mind, his fantasies began to take form, each image and scene spurring him further into arousal as he jerked off. Being in the swim team was fun, yet he always loved the shower, seeing how each member stood under the water as they washed the chlorine off their bodies. Their bulges, all clad in the same blue lycra, stood out like eye candy to him. There was that horse, who seemingly had the biggest of all their packages, competing with the green dragon. The otter on the other hand, had a nice bubble butt that was perfectly framed by the azure lycra. What wouldn’t he give for a nice grope session, with all of them touching themselves, feeling their bulges through their speedos, basking in the pleasure.
Then he came, reaching his orgasm as his body shivered. Ecstasy overwhelmed him like a burst floodgate, his speedo darkening with cum as he fired his load of canine cum into the blue lycra, staining it. His crotch immediately felt the growing warmth as his nethers were bathed in his own dog cream. Soon the dark tip sported a small drop of cum, seeping out from the soaked tip and meandering down the contours of his bulge as his climax finished up. The dog panted, enjoying the afterglow of his lewd act, smiling at the sight of his soaked speedo.
He had spent many nights like this, lying in his bed, blanket over him as he slept in his trunks, a hand massaging his package endlessly as he brought to himself to cum just before he slept. There were so many many nights where he dozed off with his lycra garments warm from his release, and it slowly turned into a ritual for him, helping him sleep so much better. In the morning after, as he felt the sticky fabric, he would ‘warm’ it up again with his fresh load.
He moved to sit on the armchair, spreading and stretching as he smiled to himself. His face had a stupefied grin, matched with half-lidded eyes as if he was in some sort of trance. It probably was too, considering how lust had complete control of his brain, targeting his kinks and giving him the thrill he loved. He knew other people round the neighbourhood that shared in the interest of speedos as underwear, and sometimes he loved guessing what color they sported as he met them at town. Another groan escaped him as his hands idly touched and felt up the cummy bulge, the release was just so good, and he could feel the mass of cum in his garment cooling slowly.
The scent of his canine cum now joined the scent of the sea, and suddenly, again the shiver ran down his spine, and aroused once more he was, tenting the trunks with his hardening tent.
He groaned, trembling as his right hand resumed its intense groping, pumping his speedo bulge ravenously as he focused on the absolute pleasure he anticipated. The other males in his team probably faced this too as well, dealing with the relentless heat of the climate, body filled with hormones. He wondered to himself which one of them would be furiously masturbating like him, and what sort of fetishes did they have.
The dog knew that one time in camp, as he woke up at the wee hours of the morning to use the toilet, he heard the audible moans of his teammate, a lizard, inside a cubicle. He forgoed locking it, thinking no one else would be around at two in the morning, and there the canine saw him, seated against the cubicle corner, jerking away in his deep green speedo. He had jizzed a few times already, as shown by the puddle of cum made from his drippy bulge, and he seemed like he would continue for another hour. Unlike the reptilian, the dog was dead tired from the day of training, and had no mood to masturbate. Still, he smiled and turned away, sneaking back to his bed, wishing his teammate the best in his stress relief. Maybe the lizard was once more in his room, happily jerking off in privacy. The canine didn’t know, but it was possible. That memory stayed with the dog for a long time, and he never mentioned it to him, but it must have felt good that night.
Maybe it was the tiger, who was his gym partner as well. The tiger always did sniff tests on his own shirts or shorts, judging if they could still be worn if they smelt decent by his standards. He was also known for playfully hazing the juniors by grabbing them and stuffing their face into his armpit; his idea of a penalty when the seniors won against them in a practice race. He could envision him on his bed, spread eagle and stroking off through his lycra as well, growling softly as his own seed stained the speedo dark. The tiger could probably be sniffing a pair of used undies, or someone else’s speedo he stole, absolutely enraptured by the musky scent. Sweat repulsed the dog, his sensitive nose protesting at even the slightest odor, but he could see how the scent of sweat or seed could be a turnon for some guys. For a few, the smell of cum was like the key that ignited the engines in their crotches, and he giggled softly.
Of course! His mind finally focused. The team captain, a shark, for sure had fun in his alone time. Though he hid it well, and played it cool. There was a red speedo that the shark wore that upon close inspection, actually was pale at the bulge part. When worn, it was slightly visible, but only if one stared intently. But during showers, the canine could see the inner side of the speedo, and it had been bleached to a salmon pink. It possibly was his special kinky pair, his favorite that he loved to spill his seed in. The pale spot definitely was not from bleach, and the canine knew it from his own sexual playtimes. Who knows how many loads it might have taken, and how long the jizz stayed in. The shark always mentioned how he enjoyed taking long drives in his father’s convertible, he might have spent lazy afternoons on the back seat, fondling his own package in the crimson lycra and cumming repeatedly into them. Heck, he might have been superbly daring, and did the long drives wearing nothing but the creamed speedos and some slippers. Just yesterday, he wore that pair once more, and it probably had another good session of constant loads spilled into its lycra nylon fabric.
Back in reality, the fabric of his own speedo was met with a second climax, and he moaned out load, shooting string after string of doggie cum into the blue garment once more, filling it with another warm bath of white fresh seed. For such a small garment, it took and absorbed the canine jizz as much as it could, before the rest spilled through the tip once more, getting all over his fingers. Pleasure welled up within him and overflowed like the cum in his speedo, and he simply laid back in the chair, panting from a second orgasm. Though he wanted to relax, the weather was rather cruel, and it was not long before a third shiver surged through him once more.
A third wave, then a fourth and a fifth hit the canine, and each time, his speedo became more and more soiled with his own cum. Estrus had him wrapped around its pinky and would keep on drawing him back for more, until eventually he began to drip, dotting the tiled floor with his cum. He finally mustered the strength to stand, walking on shaky legs to bathroom once more to wash up. He forgot what time it was, or how long he had been rubbing himself, but he didn’t bother. He just wanted to cum, giving himself the best pleasure.
The dog could feel warm seed just trickling down his inner thighs, and simply smiled as he groped himself again, making more soaked jizz ooze out. Another wave could hit him, and he wouldn’t bother, simply getting comfortable to jerk off in his speedo once more. He’d have to change pairs after the bath, and he thought maybe his black ones would do just fine.
He simply sighed contently, enjoying this odd behaviour his body exhibited. A sixth shiver hit him as he started to bathe, and like usual, started to jerk off through the fabric once more. For him, he could never tire of this. While the shiba inu got to fondling himself once more, he could say to himself, he loved this place with its blend of sun, sand, sea, and speedos.
(This is for my friend,
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