Horndog Says Woof


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Wasn’t that just the cutest thing? The scruffy-looking big guy and his miniature white Shih Tzu were an absolute picture. The guy was dressed in grey sweatpants—worn enough to cling to his hefty ass as he bent down to wrestle a cloth toy from the dog’s mouth—and a dark blue t-shirt, similarly soft. His hair was a riot of brown curls, suggesting he needed a trim, and the dog was nothing but a giant ball of fluff. Everything about the pair was soft except the guy’s body. He was a mountain of a man with a barrel chest and that ass.

Kyle sighed and returned his attention to his own dog, a boxer named Max who was currently making a circuit of the dog park, which was what he always did as soon as Kyle let him off leash. Once he’d gone all the way around, he would come back, ready to have his ball tossed. Max was a social dog, excited to make friends with everyone he met or—

Oops. That.

“Sorry about that.” Kyle said to the gorgeous guy, because Max had skipped right over sniffing his dog’s butt and gone straight to trying to mount it. “Max, stop it. Max is… friendly.” He got a good hold of Max’s collar and wrestled him over to his side with a very firm shake of his finger in Max’s face.

“No harm done.” The guy stuck out his hand and Kyle released Max’s collar to take it. “I’m Roland, by the way.”


“And that’s Snowball.” Roland pointed to his ball of fluff. Max had gone straight back to Snowball as soon as Kyle released his collar, but Snowball didn’t seem overwhelmed by Max’s exuberance, so Kyle let them play.

“Appropriate name.”

“Except he’s hot as hell when you’ve got him all over you. He’s an affectionate one.”

“Yeah, I noticed the two of you rolling around earlier.” Oops. Maybe he shouldn’t have noticed that. But Roland didn’t seem to take it wrong.

“Gotta get all that energy out somehow. The both of us.” Roland looked like the kind of guy who was used to being active. Aside from the sporty way he was dressed, his stubbled face bore the deep tan of a man who spent a lot of time outdoors, and the way his arms filled out his t-shirt suggested he used them for something besides typing on a computer.

Kyle shifted his gaze away from Roland’s biceps back to the dogs. “Don’t think I’ve seen you guys here before.”

“Snowball and I like to get around, check out all the happening spots. You come here a lot?”

“Yeah, I live in the neighborhood. This park is a great asset. I have a yard, but Max really needs his exercise. Burn some energy, like you said. He’s only just turned one, and he’s fixed, I promise. He’s just—” Horny. “Max!” Because there he was, humping Snowball’s ass again, as if that could accomplish anything.

Kyle went over and retrieved his dog. “Snowball is a boy,” he explained to Max. “He’s just a little confused,” he apologized to Roland.

“Or maybe he’s gay,” Roland said without missing a beat. His eyes said the rest for him.

Oh. Oh, nice. This was an unexpected bonus on what was already a beautiful Saturday afternoon. The sun was out, the humidity was down, the grass was green, the sky was blue, and the handsome hunk with the adorable dog was gay.

“More pan,” Kyle said. “Very equal opportunity. Max, that is. I’m… gay.” It was a bit of a gamble, but Roland’s smile said he hadn’t guessed wrong.

“Nice to meet you, gay. I’m Dad.”

“Oh my God. Did you just dad joke me?”

Roland laughed, a deep and hearty sound that did good things to Kyle’s insides. He’d be happy to call Roland Dad if that was what it took.

“Gay too,” Roland said. “Since we’re laying it all out there. And I’ve never asked Snowball about his sexuality, but he doesn’t seem to mind Max.” Roland gestured at— Oh dear, Max was at it again. Every time Kyle let go of him for a second, he was all over the little dog.

“It’s a consent issue,” Kyle said helplessly. He hadn’t yet managed to teach Max about consent. Max went at other dogs as though they were best friends—possibly lovers—regardless of how the other dogs felt about it.

“We can let them work it out. Just a matter of getting to know each other.” Roland said that last part suggestively enough that Kyle recognized the invitation in it.

“You want to—” he said at the same time Roland did, except Kyle’s sentence ended with “get a cup of coffee” and Roland’s ended with “go somewhere and fuck.”

“Um,” Kyle said, because sort of yes, but also, that’d been… abrupt.

“Sorry. I’m as bad as Max. Just saying you’re a good-looking guy and I wouldn’t mind getting naked with you, but coffee is nice too, I guess.” Roland sounded liked coffee was a pretty distant second, but Kyle was going to need more lubrication before he was ready to get naked. And he didn’t mean the kind of lubrication that came in a plastic bottle.

“How about a compromise? Come back to my place and we can have a glass of wine on the deck. The dogs can play, and the two of us can get to know each other. See what happens from there.”

An hour of conversation and a glass of wine would probably be enough for him to talk himself into some afternoon fun, though he already regretted that it wouldn’t be more than that. Roland was physically attractive, no doubt, but he also had an easy-going personality, a quick smile, and a fondness for dogs. All of which made him long-term-partner material. Not that Kyle’s mind should go straight to long-term partner, but that was where it had gone, and his experience with guys who wanted to get naked immediately was that they disappeared as fast as they came, ha ha. Which in Roland’s case seemed like a shame.


He’d almost fucked that up, which would’ve been a shame. Kyle was cute as hell, all prim in a pair of khakis and a short-sleeved collared shirt like the dog park was something to dress up for. The shirt was a purple and grey plaid, making him not so hard to pick out as gay, and Roland had homed in on him almost as fast as Max had jumped Snowball. The purple in the shirt did great things for Kyle’s light brown skin and jet black hair, which was cropped into a style as preppy as his clothes. Altogether, he was an enticing package.

Roland had thought they were on the same page about the whole find-somewhere-to-fuck thing, courtesy of Max setting them a good example, but apparently he’d misjudged. This was a nicer boy, one who needed a little courting before he could get down to the good stuff. For most guys, he wouldn’t bother. He had Snowball out on a mission today. Mission: Get Laid. Snowball was the best gay-guy magnet going. If there was one anywhere in the vicinity, Snowball would lure him in, and he’d lured in Kyle like a champ. But it seemed Roland had work yet to do.

“A glass of wine sounds great.”

For Kyle, he would bother. There was something in the guy’s eyes that really spoke to him, a sort of nervous excitement. He was going to be wild in bed if Roland could get through his barriers, and wine made a good barrier breaker. If it worked, they’d be right there at Kyle’s place where they could get it on. And if it didn’t work… maybe Roland would enjoy himself anyway. There were worse ways to spend a Saturday afternoon than drinking a glass of wine and talking to a cute guy.

Kyle lived close enough that he’d walked to the park, so Roland left his car in the lot and the two of them put the dogs on leash and made a slow amble with Snowball stopping to sniff everything, because it was all new, and Max more eager to move along, as if he couldn’t wait to get Snowball back to his crib for some Netflix and chill.

Kyle filled him in on the neighborhood as they walked, which was a super nice one with mature trees lining both sides of the street and well-kept houses spaced far enough apart to give everyone a little room to themselves. Kyle’s house was as adorable as he was—also a little preppy and a little contained—but when they came out onto the deck in the back, there was his wild streak on display. He’d crafted his yard into a fairyland, not so much lawn as glen, with a profusion of tall grasses and ferns lining the privacy fence and a more manicured section in the middle where the dogs could run around.

The wine was a crisp chardonnay, perfect for the weather, and Kyle’s deck furniture was made to be lounged in. Roland almost forgot his mission, reclined on a chaise in the shade of an umbrella, watching the dogs frolic and making conversation that flowed easily. It was Kyle who came to him—ostensibly to bring him a third glass of wine, but he put the glass down on the teak table to Roland’s side instead of handing it to him and then straddled his lap.

“Well, hello.” Roland had stopped angling for pillow time, but he was definitely up for it.

“Hello, handsome.” Kyle leaned down and kissed him, his lips sweet and clingy, only slightly parted. Roland cupped the back of his head so he could deepen the kiss. Their tongues twined—not urgent but getting there—until Kyle sat back with a noise that went straight to Roland’s cock. They were both hard already, their groins rocking together as if Kyle were riding him.

“Not had too much to drink, have you?” He wasn’t feeling more than the lightest of buzzes himself—just a pleasant glow adding to the glow of the sun and the company—but Kyle’s smile had a giddy edge he needed to make sure wasn’t actual giddiness.

“Just enough, I’d say. This is what you came here for, right?”

Funny, he felt a bit conflicted now. He wanted this, but he didn’t want just this. “For starters,” he said, trying to convey that. It must’ve worked because Kyle’s smile went from giddy to gorgeous.

“Will Snowball be okay out here alone? I leave Max out all the time.”

“Then I’m sure it’s fine.” He was accustomed to Snowball watching his antics—Snowball being his babe magnet and all—but getting laid without wet puppy dog eyes watching him was even better.

Kyle led him up a beautifully crafted hardwood staircase to his bedroom at the top of it. The room had been done predominantly in shades of dark blue that were easy on the eyes, but brighter accents hinted at Kyle’s more passionate side, the one Roland had started to get a taste of down on the deck.

“I don’t know what you had in mind,” Kyle said, hovering just inside the door as if it wasn’t his own bedroom.

Roland took his hand and drew him deeper into the room. “I’d love to fuck you, if you’d let me. With you riding me like you were doing downstairs.”

Kyle flushed. Gorgeous little thing.

“You’d be brilliant riding me. So pretty.”

Kyle nodded, shy but convinced. Fuck, Roland could really get into this guy. He was the whole package. Roland’s cock was ridiculous in his sweat pants, making an obvious, swaying bulge. He palmed himself, too ready for this, and Kyle’s eyes flashed hungry.

“Want some of this?” He wasn’t shy himself, not even a little, so he went ahead and pushed his sweats down so his cock bobbed right out. Yeah, he wasn’t wearing anything beneath them. A loose cock in a pair of grey sweats and a fluffy white dog—he knew how to attract the right kind of man. Snowball had done his job, and now Roland’s cock was doing its job. Kyle sank to his knees as if Roland’s snake had charmed him. He leaned forward and inhaled, a deep appreciative sigh rising up from him.

Fuck yeah. Kyle wanted some cock.


It wasn’t just the wine, though the wine didn’t hurt. Kyle liked everything about Roland, and now that he was on his knees in front of Roland’s cock, he decided he especially liked Roland’s cock. It was cut, good and hard, the head almost painfully big, sticking out at him in a tempting fashion and smelling like male skin, as if warmth had a scent. Kyle licked around it once, giving Roland his best tongue twirl before taking him deeper.

Roland threaded a hand into his hair, ruffling the short fringe at his temple. “There you go, babe. I’ve been looking forward to this.”

Kyle too. All through both of those glasses of wine, he’d been eyeing the bulge in Roland’s sweats, dreaming of getting his mouth on it. That was how he’d ended up being the aggressor in the end. An hour of Roland not making a move had worked him all the way around to making one himself. And now he was glad he had.

Roland’s cock fit perfectly in his mouth, big enough to feel, not too big to handle, and Roland was being properly appreciative as he went up and down, getting his hands involved and picking up speed. He tilted his eyes up and found Roland’s slitted almost closed, but Roland could see enough to grin when he caught Kyle peeking.

“Yeah, babe.”

Babe was probably what Roland called anyone who sucked his cock. Kyle couldn’t take it personally. But then Roland groaned, his knees buckling a little, and said Kyle in a way that was much more personal, as if he really did know and care who was down there.

Kyle hummed back, acknowledging the acknowledgement, trying to communicate what it meant to him. The vibration made Roland moan again, and they were just a vibrating pair the two of them, humming and moaning back and forth. Roland’s cock was so hard for him, the skin stretched absolutely taut, and Kyle was hard too, painfully so in the constriction of his khakis.

He stood up to remedy that and Roland took over right away, brushing his hands aside to strip him himself. First shirt, then khakis, then briefs.

“There you are,” Roland said when he’d gotten him all the way naked. He whistled appreciatively. “I knew you’d be smoking under those uptight clothes.”

Kyle flushed at the praise, self-conscious about being naked because Roland was still dressed, looking a little comical with his dick sticking out over the waistband of his sweats, which hung low enough on his ass that one good tug would have them off. Kyle gave them that one tug, and they slid down to pool around Roland’s ankles, which didn’t make him look any less comical because he still had his sneakers on as well as his shirt.

Roland laughed as if he could tell what Kyle was thinking. He laughed easily, at almost anything, but always good natured like this, never in a mean way. He hopped clumsily on one foot while trying to divest himself of the shoe on the other, putting on what Kyle took to be an intentional show with his cock bobbing around and that meaty ass firm and round beneath the hem of his t-shirt. He finally managed to get everything off, leaving his clothes strewn all over the bedroom—shoes and socks and sweats—as if he were going to move in. Kyle had an image of a possible future, one in which he was simultaneously annoyed by Roland’s mess and thrilled by Roland’s presence.

“You’ll want these, I guess.” He got the condoms and lube out of his nightstand.

Roland dashed over to claim them. “Giddyup, cowboy.” He gave Kyle a light smack on the flank, then tossed himself down on the bed, spreading himself wide so Kyle could see every glorious inch of him, and immediately set to rolling a condom down his shaft.

“Come on, let me get you open.” He beckoned Kyle forward, and Kyle made his way less acrobatically onto the bed. He straddled Roland like he had out on the deck until Roland grinned and said, “Other way, babe.”

All right. Roland wanted to look at his ass as he opened it. That was fine. Kyle rotated himself around and leaned forward, which brought him face to face with Roland’s cock. Not a bad place to be. He got in a few awkwardly placed licks while Roland worked a couple of slick fingers into him. Then the fingers got more aggressive, and he lost track of Roland’s cock except that he wanted it in him. Roland knew what he was doing with his fingers, which gave Kyle hope he’d know what he was doing with his dick too.

“I’m good,” he announced. He’d been enjoying the fingering but was more than ready for the more, so he swung himself back around the other way so he could see the man about to fuck him. Or more like be fucked by him because even though it was Roland’s cock, he was the one controlling their union. It was his thighs doing the heavy lifting, his pace and his drive.

“Fuck, yeah,” Roland said. “Fuck, I knew you’d be fucking gorgeous like this. Come on, babe. Come on. Give it to me.”

Kyle gave it to him, moving faster, rolling his hips in wider circles, letting his head tilt back so all he could see was his own pleasure as he got Roland’s cock lined up right where he needed it. Roland put a hand on him without him even asking, and then it was game over. He came all over Roland’s hand, Roland’s abdomen, Roland’s everything really.

Roland sat up a little, using core strength to hold himself upright as he put both hands on Kyle’s hips and drove into him with extra force until he grunted in a way that announced his climax. He dropped back on the mattress and Kyle dropped onto him, feeling the wetness of his own ejaculate against his stomach. His head nestled perfectly into the crook of Roland’s neck and Roland wrapped both arms around his back with an appreciative murmur.

“Good fuck.”

“The best,” Kyle agreed. So now what?


Nice. Very, very nice. Everything about Kyle was nice. His personality, his house, his dog. His ass. Roland didn’t want to have to leave the bed, but he was already way overdue. It was a miracle Bill hadn’t started blowing up his phone already. As if on cue, a low buzz sounded from his sweats. And that would be Bill.

“I’ve gotta go.”

Kyle sat up and swung his leg over to separate their bodies. Roland could see he was hurt.

“Not because I want to,” he tried to explain. “It’s just… I’m supposed to be somewhere, and I’m already late. I’ll get your number. I’ll call.”

“Sure.” It was pretty clear Kyle didn’t believe him as he went about the room getting dressed.

Roland had said those words without meaning them too many times to count, but he meant them today. Kyle would see. He got Kyle’s number and put it into his phone, then sent a text so Kyle would have his number back.

“See? Would I give you my number if I wasn’t going to call?” But he’d used that lie before too, and Kyle must’ve heard it before because he didn’t believe it either. “Swear to God,” he promised as he gave Kyle a last kiss on the front porch, Snowball pulling at the leash. “As soon as I take care of this.”

He didn’t explain what this was, because this was a bit of a problem. Telling Kyle he hadn’t been exactly honest thus far wasn’t going to convince him of his future honestly. He returned Bill’s call as he and Snowball walked back to the park.

“What the fuck, dude?” Bill bitched in his ear. “Did you kidnap my dog? You were supposed to be back an hour ago.”

“Took more time than I expected, sorry.”

“Are you losing your touch or is Snowball?”

“Not Snowball. He’s still the best babe magnet going. I just needed more time to seal the deal with this guy.”

Bill laughed, then gave him some more shit about losing his touch.

“Kyle was worth it,” Roland said in his defense. “But listen, we have a situation here. I really like this guy. I want to see him again.”

“What’s the situation?”

“He thinks I have a dog.”

“You’re not getting my dog. Either get your own damned dog or come clean with your new friend about your horndog ways and how you use Snowball to enable them. Personally, I recommend the option where you’re honest.”

Yeah, that would probably be best. He was definitely a horndog, and Snowball was his best wingman, but maybe those days were behind them. Maybe, if he played his cards right, he couldend up with a dog named Max. And an amazing, sexy, wonderful co-owner named Kyle.

The End

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