LARKY
This puppy is horny.
Larky can’t get his mind off of it all day. The 18-year-old dog usually cums three times a day. Once before work, once during his shift (he’s used pretty much every 15 minute break he’s gotten at the movie theatre for the last year to head out back and bust one out), and once or twice before he goes to bed. He didn’t get a chance to this morning because his older brother’s friends were over and he didn’t get a chance to at work because it was soaking wet outside and the bathrooms were being used his whole break.
The poor dog’s spent pretty much his entire six hour shift with an erection. He’s spent the last 20 minutes endlessly sweeping popcorn out of an empty theatre, of course wearing his pajama bottoms that show off his crotch area the most, trying to think about anything but his erection.
It’s really difficult for him. Without any customers to attend to and nothing to do, his mind drifts back to how horny he is again and again. There’s a movie playing, some movie about baseball he has no interest in. He got leaky maybe an hour ago. Now it’s just torture. Every step he takes shifts his cock in his pajamas a little more. He has to resist the urge to whine and whimper like the doggy that he is.
It’s right around when he starts rubbing himself against the broom that he realizes he needs to find a way to cum.
He does the math in his head. He’s going to be home in an hour, but his older brother’s friend Gio is probably going to be there and Gio being there makes him nervous. It’s too wet to do anything outside and his shift lead Andrea’s been getting on his case about long bathroom breaks.
But. It’s pitch black in this theatre. And he knows for a fact there are no cameras.
It’s just him and Andrea scheduled right now, and he generally does not care what Larky does if he’s in the right room and all the work gets done. Andrea’s effectively getting paid to sit on his phone in the back room until the place officially closes, and Larky knows Andrea won’t leave that room even if the building’s on fire.
The puppy lays his broom down and finds a seat in the very back corner of the theatre. Even if Andrea did come in, which he won’t, Larky would have a solid amount of time to get everything away. He would hesitate more, but even the thought of getting to jerk off makes his cock throb with pleasure so much he can’t think about anything else. Larky checks one more time then takes a seat.
He slides his erection out of the fly of his briefs and his pajamas and holds it in his paw, letting out a loud whine by accident. He begins jerking himself off slowly, trying not to make any more noises.
If he didn’t take special care to be paying attention, he could very easily get lost in the pleasure of finally getting to touch himself. It feels mind-meltingly good. He tries not to whimper, tries not to whack his tail against the seat, tries not to cry out in pleasure. Thankfully the sounds of the movie drown out any little whimpers he makes.
Larky leans his head against the wall and goes faster. His thighs are shaking uncontrollably, ready for him to finish. He knows he’s ready to finish just as soon as he started – it’s only a matter of how fast he can move his paw.
Then, through his foggy mind, the thought of how he’s going to clean everything up comes to him. Of course he was in the process of cleaning, but all he has is a broom and a dustpan. He doesn’t want to get cum on his clothes and he definitely doesn’t want to get it on the ground or the seats, but he has nothing else to cum on.
The solution is obvious to him. He pushes his head down and lets the tip of his cock into his open muzzle. His wrist keeps slapping away at his thigh, his cock slick with his own spit.
He shuts his eyes tight. His legs shaking like crazy, he brings himself to completion, sending one shot after another of hot cum pouring down his throat. He swallows each load as it comes until there’s nothing left, then licks up the mess he made on his cock.
When he pulls away, everything’s still okay. The movie’s still playing, Andrea hasn’t walked in, and he’s cleaned up the mess he’s made.
The dog puts his cock away, satisfied. He wipes his mouth on his sleeve and he gets back to work cleaning the theatre.
On the way out, Andrea tells him he’s done a good day’s work and he’s gotten much better about the bathroom breaks.
Larky walks home in the rain. The puppy listens to his music (all MP3s he burned from his older brother’s CDs, so a lot of garage rock and white rappers) on his digital audio player and wags his tail all the way home.
He is acutely aware that Spencer and Gio are probably going to be home. The front door opens directly to the living room which is where they like to drink and play video games. He wants to head around the back and climb into his room through the window, but as his de facto caregiver after everything happened, Spencer likes to know where Larky is.
The dog takes a nervous breath and opens the front door.
Sure enough, there’s his brother and his brother’s best friend, sitting on the couch with a couple of beers on the table. Spencer is a border collie just like their dad, a little taller with a little more gut. Gio is a slender but menacing siamese cat. Larky sulks inside, trying to go unnoticed to his room.
Spencer perks up, putting the controller down. “Hey, bud.”
“Hi,” Larky whispers back, hoping Gio might not even look up from his game. “I’m gonna–”
But Gio throws the controller down and grins at Larky. “There’s my puppy dog!”
Larky flushes. This is exactly what he was afraid of. Gio teases him like this whenever he sees Larky (he says it’s “self-evident”), but it’s gotten kind of bad recently.
“Dude,” Spencer says. “Shut the fuck up.”
“What did I say?”
Spencer shakes his head. “Work was okay?”
“It was okay. Andrea had good comments for me.” Larky leaves out the other thing he ended up doing. “Yeah.”
“Yeah? Good. Good job.”
“You did good at work?” Gio mews. “Good puppy!”
“Oh my fucking god.”
“Hey, why don’t you come over here, puppy dog. I’ll give you some belly rubs and I’ll scratch your little chin–”
“Shut your fucking mouth, Gio.”
“And you can wag your little tail–”
His brother stands up. “Man. What the fuck did I just tell you? I’m gonna knock your lights out if you keep talking like that.”
Gio leans back and puts his arm around the couch, seemingly unphased by Spencer’s threat. “Hey. I’m not saying anything that the dog doesn’t like.”
“Stop calling him a fucking dog.”
“Look at him. He’s standing there silent, wagging his tail, waiting for my next direction.” Larky didn’t even realize he was wagging his tail. At least he didn’t point out the throbbing erection too. “Puppy dog, if you wanna come over and get belly rubs, feel free to. I might even give you a treat if you’re a good boy.” He takes an intentional pause, then continues: “So he’s not denying he’s just a dog, I’m not denying he’s just a dog, it seems like we both know what’s going on. Sounds like you’re the one in denial.”
“Ughhhhhh,” Spencer groans. “You’re such an ass. Larky, don’t fuckin’ listen to him.”
“Well?” Gio adds, confident as ever. “Chin scratchies?”
Larky smiles nervously. He knows the answer is no, that Gio’s just trying to get a rise out of him and his brother is just trying to protect him. But of course the answer is yes. His older brother’s best friend is offering chin rubs and tummy pets. Of course he fucking wants that more than anything else in the world.
“I…” is all he manages to mumble before Gio takes over for him.
“He had a long day at work. Larky, why don’t you go to your room?”
“Hey! He’s 18. You’re not his dad. Let him fuckin’ decide.”
“I’m… gonna go to my room,” Larky squeaks out like a chew toy before turning around and running off.
His brother yells out his name but Larky is too embarrassed to return. He heads to his room, locks the door and dives under his bedsheets. He sits there and whimpers to himself, completely red and completely aroused. His tail whacks against the bedsheets.
The puppy starts grinding himself against his pillow, whimpering and shaking the whole time. He hasn’t even taken his cock out yet and he already feels the shiver of pleasure running through his whole body.
This always happens to him. The second anyone gives him any attention, he gets full on infatuated. The thing is, the nice guy at the hockey card store and the grocery store cashier and the wrestlers at the local high school and the older man who goes fishing when Larky takes his walks, none of them treat him like a dog. None of them treat him like Gio does.
And all of those crushes were really bad. They changed his daily routine. They changed the way he thought. He watched so many wrestling matches and went out of his way to buy soda he didn’t want and bought hundreds of dollars worth of hockey cards (which he would have done anyway, but with the added benefit). He never even learned the fisherman’s name but he went on that five mile walk every day for months.
And now, someone who’s offering exactly what he needs. Someone who understands him so thoroughly, who understands him on an atomic level. Larky is just a little dog who wants belly rubs and Gio is right there, willing to give them to him. He gets naked and humps his pillow like the little puppy he is, wishing that Gio were here to stroke him and kiss him and make him into his pet. He imagines his brother heading out to get them beer and Gio knocking on the door, ready to do all the things he was teasing him with.
He’s humped this pillow probably hundreds of times before, on nights where he was sleepy but not quite ready to go to bed, when he had so much energy that he had to hump something or he’d go crazy, or when he was so horny about one of his little crushes that jerking off wouldn’t do it. He’s never fucked this pillow with this much desperate intensity, whining and whimpering and crying into the bedsheets with each little movement.
He ends up bursting a thick load of cum all over his already-caked pillow, panting and curling his toes and wagging his doggy tail. He collapses down with his butt in the air and takes a deep breath.
Then there’s a knock at the door. He throws the blankets over himself.
“Yo,” Gio says through the door. “You doing okay?”
“I’m–” he stutters. “I’m okay. Don’t come in.”
“‘Kay, I won’t. Spencer thought he maybe heard you crying or something.”
“No.”
“Okay. Well. Spencer’s making me apologize. You’re not a dog. I’m just a dick.”
“It’s okay.”
“You’re verbose, you know that?”
The dog says nothing.
There’s a distinct gap before Gio adds, “I mean. You and I both know what’s up, right?”
“What do you mean?”
“I think you know what I mean, Larky.” He laughs. “Okay, well. Apology over. See you later.”
Larky whimpers.
“That’s right, puppy.”
Larky spends the whole night wanting to sneak out. He spends hours thinking about going to the living room and seeing Gio maybe asleep on the couch, his brother passed out in his bedroom. About pawing at Gio until he wakes up and gives him all of those things he was promising.
Sometime around 2 in the morning, when he feels like he’s found the courage inside himself to maybe go to the bathroom and pass by the living room and see what’s going on, he hears the thud of the front door and he knows it’s over.
The puppy goes to bed instead, jerking off another time to the thought of Gio and letting the cum splatter onto his face.
In the morning, he heads out into the kitchen in a clean pair of white briefs and one of his authentic hockey jerseys. His brother is at the stovetop making breakfast.
“Hey, bud,” he says without turning around. Larky plops himself on the couch and starts massaging his paws. “You sleep okay?”
“I did. Did you?”
“More or less. Being really really drunk helps you get to sleep but it definitely does not keep you asleep.”
It’s quiet for a second. The eggs sizzle and pop in the pan.
“You have work today?” Spencer asks.
“Nope.”
“Cool. I’m gonna be out… probably until late, ‘cause I got my shift all day and then night classes.”
It’s quiet again. There’s always been this silence between Larky and his brother that to an outsider might feel uncomfortable. Between the seven year age gap, the personality differences, the different moms, and all of the current weirdness, they just don’t have a lot to talk about. Larky loves his brother, though, and he knows Spencer loves him back.
Spencer sits down and puts his eggs on the table next to the beer bottles, then wraps his arm around his brother and gives him a little noogie. Larky enjoys the brief moment of touch.
His fork clinks against his plate as he begins to eat.
“Can I ask you a weird question?” Larky asks. It’s out before he can even think about if it’s a good idea to ask, but he figures his brother has always been good to him.
“Sure,” his brother responds, chewing with his mouth open.
“Do you think Gio likes me?”
Spencer swallows. “He apologized to you last night, right?”
“He did.”
“I think he’s teasing you because he knows you can take it and also because he knows I care about you. He’s my best friend and he’s also a huge dick.”
“But do you think…”
Spencer tilts his head.
“Do you think he likes me maybe more than that?”
He puts the plate down. “Like do I think he’s interested in you?”
Larky reads his tone of voice and the expression on his face and says nothing.
“Larky. You’re putting me in a weird position.”
“I’m sorry.”
“No, it’s okay. It’s just that you’re my brother and I love you and I want you to be happy, but… you shouldn’t get involved with whatever Gio’s doing. I think–” he sighs exasperated, like a parent giving their child a stern talking to. “I think you’re 18 and you… want and deserve that kind of affection, and I see that he’s offering it, but I don’t think any affection you’d get from Gio would be sincere or safe or… on equal footing. You know what I mean?”
Larky swallows, parsing Gio’s heady description. “I guess.”
“I know he’s offering affection. I know he’s calling you a dog or whatever. I guess you like it. But you’re not a dog, okay? You’re my brother and you’re an adult and you’re in full control of yourself and you should be with someone who’s going to treat you like that.”
“I don’t really… think I can get that.”
“Sure you can.”
“I don’t think anyone wants me like that.”
“What about those wrestling guys you were friends with?”
“They weren’t really my friends.”
“Or that grocery store cashier?”
“He wasn’t my friend either.”
He bites his lip, clearly rubbing up against the difference between him and his brother. If Spencer wanted to be friends with the wrestling guys, he’d just become friends with the guys, simple as that. He opens his maw and then closes it again.
“I’m sorry,” Larky whispers. “I’ll drop it.”
Spencer seems relieved. “You’re gonna find the guy for you, alright? It’s just not Gio. I’m sorry.”
“Okay.”
While Spencer eats his cold eggs, they idly chat about the drama at Spencer’s bar and how they don’t normally play hockey or wrestling but Larky always has special permission to change the channels. Then Spencer heads to work.
“I love you, okay?” Spencer says at the door. “Make sure you make lunch.”
Larky always forgets to eat, so at Spencer’s behest, he makes grilled cheese (his favorite) and reheats a can of tomato soup for lunch. After he eats, he watches hockey and plays on his Switch for a little bit. Then there’s that lull in the days where he doesn’t have work where Larky finds himself, what else, horny and wanting to jerk off.
The dog, still watching the hockey game, manipulates his erection through his briefs. This is a regular occurrence for the puppy, finding himself horny and absent-mindedly playing with himself as he does something else. He fondles his erection, feeling the delight of grabbing it in his paw and pushing it forward. He squeezes his bulge between his thighs, another thing he loves to do.
Soon enough, he’s not even through the third period and he’s pulled his cock through the fly. He casually strokes it and wags his tail, letting the thrum of warmth and pleasure fade into the background as he focuses on the end of the game. His team gets an empty netter with 30 seconds left. He lets the rest of the game play out, still massaging his puppy cock, before closing his laptop.
Pulling his paw away from his cock, he realizes he’s been whimpering under his breath for half the game. In fact, it all hits him at once. How horny he is, how long he’s been stroking himself, how close he is already. The thoughts of Gio and his brother.
He wants to take it slower, to really enjoy it, but as he starts stroking himself faster and faster, the puppy realizes he doesn’t have the resolve to do that. As hard as he wills himself to slow down, to pull his paw away, to stop himself before he cums everywhere, he doesn’t stop.
And as he flips the lower half of his body over the top half, legs against the wall, he takes a little bit of solace in it. Despite what his brother says, he is just a dog. He’s just a little dog who can’t control himself, who’s so horny and so desperate that he needs to cum all over his face after a couple of minutes of provocation. As he whimpers his way through those last couple of strokes, it’s the most apparent to him it’s ever been.
Larky is a big puppy. A big puppy and nothing more.
The ropes of cum start shooting out of his cock and all over his face. He opens his mouth to get most of it, but some starts dripping down his muzzle onto his forehead. The puppy loves sucking his own cock, loves cumming in his own mouth, but there’s something to be enjoyed about the splattering of his own warmth all over his face. He loves how hot it is, how it cakes his fur, how he gets to taste everything that drips into his mouth.
He lets his body fall down to the couch, exhausted from all the effort he put into that nut. He closes his eyes, secure in the fact that he can take a little nap because his brother won’t be home for half a day. The warmth almost pulls him under right there, soft dick out of the fly, cum still coating his face and his jersey and the couch behind him.
But then there’s a knock at the door.
