Dom Fox	by	aethelfox	
		ᚫᚦᛖᛚᚠᚩᛉ	
nsfw | 18/3 [18 minutes long, 3 minutes to the good stuff]
gay | furry | fox | coyote | oral

Formality! Yes. Formality. A clean, nice suit. Much more formal than his informal streetwear. Much more well-cut. Much more better. Collin just had to find an absent room to slip inside. Thankfully, such rooms were abundant in the giant mansion he was in. He picked one on a whim, closing the door behind with a soft cluck.
“Like what you see?” asked a high voice with a sinister lisp.
Collin turned, shocked, looking for the source. His eyes peered through the darkness, now resolving a shape. A person! Orange and white… In fact, too orange and white. His vison danced upon the creature, resolving it as a fox, naked on the couch thereby. He locked eyes with the vulpine, before something caught his gaze.
He glanced further south, seeing the fox’s prominence and ample equipment. His jaw dropped, and face beginning to tingle with the red of desire. A vulpine sheath was a delectable thing to behold. This one already perturbed and its red tip raising to the occasion. His mind went to natural thoughts, of kissing and licking that point pushed just above the surface. The pair below were too big to not be pent up, swollen and swimming with that delicious release.
After a few more moments of taking in the view, his eyes darted up to the fox’s face. And upon it he saw a smile, a hint of aggression just behind.
“OH SORRY DIDN’TKNOWSOMEONEWASAAA” shouted the coyote, paw slapping against his own face to hide his blush.
“That’s ok… we can share.” replied the fox. Collin didn’t reply. He didn’t look. He didn’t do anything. GOD this was embarrassing! And he stared right at… it… He could already feel disturbing stirrings in his pants. His cheeks and ears felt fiery hot, and his paw in place was no match to hide it all.
He could run back the way he came. He just had to do it. Just go. Just g-
“What’s the name, cutie?” asked the fox with his sly voice. Collin held his breath. The word ‘cutie’ tickled his chest. He loved the complement and all it meant: small, thin… fuckable. He slapped his other paw onto his face, dropping his suit and covering the area better. But it was still inadequate. Red blush still bore through, clear to the vulpine to enjoy.
“I’m Mark.” said the fox to tempt the canine.
“COLLIN.” responded the coyote with force.
“Nice to meet you, Collin. Is something the matter? Maybe I could… help?” sang Mark with coaxing undertones.
Collin released an enamored sigh, clearly broadcasting his emotions to the vulpine. Mark smiled in response, holding his prey in his cunning paw. Oh, how they always struggled. But never for long, longing for everything a fox could provide.
“If you come closer, maybe I could help you… relax?” offered the vulpine’s sly voice. Collin’s heart thumped at the solution. It was such a temptation for him. Just two guys… helping each other relax… and nobody would have to know.
“Or, if not, you can slip out, and we never saw each other.”
Collin had to choose. Walk away and lose the offer forever. Or walk towards and maybe have a little more time to decide. His footpaw inched forward. *prod* Ok. One more. *prod*. He looked down, lowering his hands to his sides as locomotion took place, step by step, bringing him closer to that orange menace. He looked up only enough to see the prize that drew him in: that red point just as bold as before.
Now clearly conceding and close enough, he paused to let the fox react. With words the fox replied: “No need to be shy, cutie. Why not join me on the couch?”
The distraction of activity was a wonder for the coyote. He pressed his hand down on the cushion, before trucking his tail and twisting to sit upon it. He looked down at his own clenched hands for just a moment, the red tip just to his right stealing his eyes.
“Call in the coyote.” mused the fox, patiently awaiting the canid to relax.
“Y-yes. And… Mark?” replied Collin, looking down and away.
“Yes, yes, mark the fox. That’s the name too.” smiled the vulpine.
“Do you…” started the coyote before his voice faded.
“Yes?” prodded Mark.
“Do you…” started Collin “ah, d… um, I mean.” he sighed “Do you want me to… er…” and faded again.
“What do you want?” asked the fox. Collin’s head turned, drifting back to the perturbed sheath. “Ah sure. It’s such a nice prize.” continued Mark. “Maybe you’d like to get a closer look? Hands can see better than eyes, you know.”
Collin’s hand started forward, getting quite close before his brain could resist at all. His fingers gripped around the soft skin of the sheath before he decided to try to pull away. But, with hand gripping another man’s body, he couldn’t help but be locked into his action. The cock inside was already expressing interest, making the handful heavy for the canid to squeeze against. Collin’s body lit with desire, maw drooping and lips becoming a smile.
The fox slipped his own paws around the canid’s, forcing the touch to continue. An electric moment it was. Touch surrounded Collin, all sensitive parts of the vulpine in contact with him: two hands and anger within his palm. Mark moved his grip slightly, slow movements up and down as the cock inside twitched to life. “Oh, feel the throbbing? I think he likes you~” sang the fox.
Collin looked away, letting out a small “ah~” as his free hand covered his blush again.
“And you like him, don’t you?” continued Mark. The coyote remained silent, too taken by the situation. “Hmm… not much of a talker, are you? Maybe we can do something else with that maw then?” Again came silence from the canine.
The fox released his grip, leaving Collin to handle the rod alone. And handle he did, pulling up and down as the disturbance inside continued to grow. The fox basked in the touch for just a few moments, before pressing the issue again. “If you wanna, we can try for something in the upper sixties. Just lean back and I can handle most of it.”
Collin moved his hand a few moments more, feeling the rage building inside. He fell still, wrapping the knot as it sprang to life. It swelled against his hand, so very happy, yet so very much threatening to stay locked in the sheath. Now or never. He released his grip and leaned his way back. He was committed, ready to take a face full of fox cock.
Mark was quick to stand, assuming his position within lip’s reach of the coyote below. His sheath was fire, demanding to be thrust inside without hesitation. But hesitation it would have to bear, for the fox’s attention was on other tasks. He had no intention in making this a quickie. He yearned for a connection and knew by the quiet whimpers that this was one to make.
The first item to address was the canine’s clothes. This was a room to change in, after all. Why was he still wearing anything? Mark gripped at the shirt’s first button, fingering it slow until it popped free. Then went to the second, taking just enough time with it to drag everything out. Then three, then four, then all the more, all-the-while while his lower love weighted down heavily. His white, vulpine sheath danced across the sub’s lips, causing desire to form at the red tip attached. Too much, in fact, and it shot free, landing heavy on the canine’s neck. Outside, not in. A tragedy in waste.
But Mark dwelled not on the unused round, for he had many to replace it with. Instead, his hands went to work, drawing against the fluffy chest. Fur dug in between his fingers as he rubbed, pressing far along the canine’s body: Tight and strong, if a bit lithe for the species. But much longer than normal. Gigantic for a ‘yote, challenging the average wolf for dominance in height. But only in height it seemed, for he was much too willing to lie below the rubbing fox.
By the time the fox’s hands got to the belt buckle, he could see that a disturbance was already waiting for him. How tight it must have felt, caged behind a wall of fabric. Quick work was made to unveil needy parts, vulpine paws already expert at the job. Collin gasped at the touch, hips shaking against his captor. 
“I suppose you’re ready for the main event then?” asked the fox.
“P-please…” said the coyote.
Black, white, and red united as the fox moved a paw to his southern parts. His restraint escaped the mortal world, freed by Collin’s begging maw. His teeth clenched in a tight smile as he angled his point down. Down to take his prize.
It started with just a poking at the lips. Collin resisted the urge to jut out his tongue to taste the fox faster. Such patience was well rewarded. The tip poked in soon enough, throbbing as it expanded. New territory it was, all to willing to be explored.
The head crept deeper into the coyote maw, spurting inside and thickening as it invaded. The taste was heavenly to the coyote. The subtle earthy taste of domination stabbed into his maw. ‘You’re not gonna go anywhere.’ it sang in its powerful voice. Not to mention the smells too, ticking his nose with their dance. They were raw and musty, gripping him tight and holding him still.  They wanted to inject inside and were raring for a big show. Collin couldn’t help but moan as the cock bottomed out and the soft sack slapped against his nose.
Mark could see the canine sheath before him. It was already fat and swollen, ready to raise from the oral ministrations occurring. He carefully wrapped his hand along its girth, pushing in a tight squeeze to mark the occasion. Collin shuddered at the touch, hips twitching to buck into the paw. The fox’s member throbbed at the response, oh so glad the coyote was enjoying the show.
Mark pulled down on the canine’s sheath, exposing the pink internals to the world around. He wrapped his pointer finger and thumb around the top of the knot, letting the rest of his digits grip the bulbus body. And with the new purchase, the fox began slow, methodical humps, bringing that invading rod to bear against the canine below. The fat meat crashed into the canine’s tongue, each tweak of the tip unloading more pre for the coyote to enjoy. Each thrust forced a swallow, making Collin’s mouth press against the invading force.
Mark’s hand still gripped the canine knot, which grew as activities intensified. It was a handhold for his thrusting body, shaking back and forth with pressure dancing among the touched points. Hot pre ejected from the force, nearly hitting the vulpine above. The fox adjusted in response: making sure his panting maw was always in the line of fire.
Canid maws are long, and the dancing invasion had not yet met deeper parts. Mark had kept his steadily growing knot outside, letting him pull out for long, brutal thrusts. But the coyote wanted that throbbing threat inside. He reached his hands up, gripping the pliable ass of the vulpine above, and forced inside the full length. Mark’s hips seized at the sudden change.
“Oh, you want a throat fuck, huh?” asked the fox as he adjusted his position. He didn’t wait for an answer. No answer could come. Instead, he placed his free hand against the venerable and exposed lower jaw, gently asking and forcing hard in one move, tilting back the head to line up with powerful hips.
And those powerful hips did active, driving his full length in. The pointed red tickled deeper parts as Mark began his brutalization. His white sack slapped against the black nose of the coyote, adding another attack for the canine to bear. Collin had to time his inhales, making sure to not mute his breathing amongst the slapping onslaught. Such was just another way to concede to another male.
Collin opened his eyes to look behind. At his nose he saw the lovely pair, bashing away with the thrusts. And just behind he saw the flight of orange, lifting on each pullback and swishing down on each thrust. This wasn’t just a fantasy. This was a real man with a real cock really ramming his way into his throat. His focus buzzed, losing himself to the captured feeling. The deep smell of the swollen balls didn’t help. They smelled of a male deep in rut, terribly pent-up and needing a release at all costs. Every impact poisoned the scent anew upon his nose, coloring the air with deep, claiming aggression.
Noises sprang from the one above, growling at the intensity. A prey between his legs he had, begging for a desperate pounding. He brought himself to speed, driving toward the goal they both wanted. The knot in his grip grew harder in response, so enticed at the new speed. He gasped in response, the welling of waves beginning to crash upon his body.
Thrusts became harder, faster, and more violent, taking full advantage of the prone canine. Aggressive fox noises filled the air, pushed forth on each sloppy hump. The cock began to harden inside. The knot began its tie. And the fox dove deep inside in one final thrust.
The rocket inside twitched as it unloaded, pushing hot vulpine spunk directly down the throat of the coyote. Foxy hips sputtered and ground to a stop, resting with pressure against the recipient muzzle. Mark growled loud and aggressive, finally taking his prey. His hand pressed firm upon the struggling throat as it drank down the glory under him.
Collin could feel the balls on his nose as they deployed their load inside. Twitch and a shot directly after, driving that goo right into his belly. Every spurt felt larger than the last, breeding his throat with fertile vigor. Finally! His body was brought to good use! So many mornings had he awoken, knot fat and trapped in his sheath, with dreams of ravaged holes fading from his thoughts.
Salty, spikey, and metal, all tastes inside his maw. A throbbing mass, delivering its load. And the grip on his own body. They spoke their own waves into existence. His mind clamped down. His own balls tightened. His vertical rocket throbbed, and out launched a rope of his own, plastering against the fox’s face. Collin’s eyes rolled up, body unable to contain the ecstasy.
The fat knot expanded against his tongue, pulling his jaw wider as the delivery continued. It was stealing territory, teaching the coyote how to behave when he saw an aggressive top: open up and let him in. His own knot swole too as he unloaded, throbbing into the vulpine hand. And more than just the squeeze, he felt another touch: pursed lips and a tickling tongue enrapturing his twitching head. This was a trade now. Tit for tat, rope for rope.
Collin could barely think in the moment, but knew he didn’t want to be outdone. His hand slipped north, caressing the vulpine balls with a tender squeeze. The vulpine jerked at the touch, maw pulling from the canine cock and his own member shooting a fat glob. Collin didn’t stop unloading though, and another rope plastered the vulpine’s face. Mark quickly recovered though, throwing his maw onto the cock to capture the head again.
The two animals were now fully committed, cocks thrust inside and choking on each other’s cum. The fox tried to push in further, but couldn’t stretch his body to force it. Just the tip and its explosive fury. Collin held the advantage, keeping all parts of the fox deep inside. And for every shot that Mark could make, the coyote had one to respond with. Like a beating heart, thump-thump with a pause: a shot of hot vulpine then a shot of canid, then a pause as the fox reloaded. Back and forth, until the smaller creature was spent.
The coyote had clearly won their exchange, spunk still jetting from his body. But now without a violation constant in his throat, Collin’s cock began to quiet. Mark sucked down all the rest, replacing his released weight with much more than he came in with.
The fox yanked his maw from the unloaded beast, letting it twitch alone as he licked his lips. His eyes caught a curious protrusion amongst the canine’s person: a slight bulge in his lithe tummy. He placed his hand on it, caressing the spunk-stuffed stomach.
“Good boy~” he sang as he pet his load, cock still jammed within the coyote. He could feel the hot breaths against his sack, knowing the domination was still in place. What a great spot to be, high on top in a loving moment. His deployed fury locked was locked inside, yielding the only thing to do in the moment: continue to caress the fluffy belly.

…

“There we go~ Starting to deflate down. Care to open that maw a little wider?” sang the fox above. Collin didn’t want to. He wanted that foreign violation inside forever. But he realized the futility as the shrinking monster began to find its own freedom. He dropped his jaw, letting the vulpine free of his clutches.
The rod pulled from his maw, dragging across his nose until the tip cleared the black protrusion. The foxcock slapped down between his eyes, painting the area with the mix of saliva and spunk. Collin pushed out a gaspy moan, nose now spoiled and lungs in need of air. His head was swimming, and the weighty cock still pressed against his body didn’t help things.
“Wow, you look beat.” whispered the fox as he took a step back. Lines of liquid sheen sullied along the canine’s fur. As clean as Mark had tried to be, some things are forgotten in brilliant moments. “Whatcha thinkin’?”
“Wow…” whispered Collin.
“Doggie likes?” asked Mark with a giggle.
“Yeah…” sighed a response.
“You’re a big guy to be a sub.”
“F-for you.” replied the coyote automatically, before real words came to him. “Er… I don’t always just... wanna get filled.”
“That’s good. I was almost sad when your half released. I was hoping to use it more… internally.”
“Not just a top?”
“Us foxes never are. Maybe you can come to my ‘bat cave’ later and we can explore that option.”
“Ohthankgodyougotthereference.” sighed Collin with relief.