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Dog Walking 2

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Two weeks after Stiles adds Peter and D to his schedule, he gets a text from Peter asking if they can have an overnight dog sitting appointment. Stiles' appreciates the tactful phrasing and shoots off a message to his dad that he'll have to skip their weekly Sunday lunch, as one of his clients needs him. Thankfully his dad only teases a little about Stiles loving the dogs more than him (which, well, is kinda true at this point), before letting him know they can reschedule any time. When Saturday morning rolls around, Stiles packs himself a small overnight bag, just a clean set of clothes for when he leaves Sunday and some toiletries. He's not really expecting to need much in the way of clothes once he gets to Peter's place.

The drive over is filled with anticipation, he's only had the one appointment with Peter and D because Peter had some out of town business the week before. Stiles is half hard before he even makes it off his own street, keeps getting harder on the drive out to the secluded house as he flashes back to their first meeting and its surprise ending. By the time he's turning up the drive, he's leaking steadily into his boxer briefs. His heart is thrumming excitedly in his chest, moreso when he spots a second car in the driveway. Stiles has barely parked and gotten out when Peter opens the door, a sly grin on his face.

"Excited to get to work?" Peter's gaze is firmly fixed to Stiles' crotch and the way he's obviously tenting his pants, and he can't help the blush that spreads even as he feels his cock give a twitch of interest at the attention. He makes his way up the porch and shivers as he passes Peter, the other man purposefully brushing his hand over Stiles' front to caress him softly. He's not surprised when Peter turns to follow, pressing against his back briefly, letting Stiles feel his own matching hardness as he leans to whisper in Stiles' ear. "I've got a surprise for you in the living room. I'll take your bag to the guest room, you go ahead on in."

Stiles nods his agreement, hand loosening when he feels Peter grip the handles of his overnight, letting it go as they split off in the foyer. Stiles can't hear anything over his own breaths but he quickly rounds the corner of the wall before stopping dead in his tracks. If he was surprised the first time he came here, it's nothing to his surprise now.

Where there had been one breeding bench, there's now two, set up to face one another. The living room set is entirely gone, instead the whole of the floor is covered in plastic sheeting over thick rugs, and there's a few scattered yet modified chairs sitting around. Stiles can see one obvious rim chair, but he'd wager the other two chairs in the room are also missing their middles. And along with the breeding benches, he can see two padded low flat benches, meant to be laid on but low enough that he's sure D wouldn't have trouble mounting the occupant face to face.

None of that is what caught his eye first though. What stopped him in his tracks and had him grabbing at his crotch to stave off coming in his pants was the sight of Derek, spread out naked in the middle of the floor with an unfamiliar deep russet colored dog sitting on his face. Literally. Stiles can see the way the dog has settled its weight down completely, over Derek's face, can hear the faintest slurps coming from beneath the animal, and his mouth waters.

"Mmm, enjoying your surprise?" Stiles didn't hear Peter approach, but he can't help the way his hips buck when Peter's hand joins his, squeezing his cock just a little bit too hard.

"Yes." Stiles' voice is breathy. They both stay where they are, just watching. It's easier now to see the slight shifting of Derek's body, to see the flex in the muscles of his neck as he works his mouth against the dog's ass.

"That's his hybrid, Bronx. I spent last weekend helping Derek pack up, they've decided to move here, help out with my end of the business. And, of course, I'm sure they'll be requiring your services as well on Saturdays." Peter's voice is like liquid silk, purring in his ear and telling him that his Saturdays are going to be even better than he imagined. Stiles doesn't resist at all when Peter starts to strip him of his clothing, helpfully lifting his arms and kicking his shoes away back towards the foyer, flushing at Peter's chuckle and the way he murmurs 'eager' into Stiles' ear. Peter clicks his tongue and Stiles hears the click of nails on the floor as D comes down the hall. "Why don't you go lay down next to Derek, D is trained to sit where he's told also."

Stiles doesn't need to be told twice, as soon as he steps free of his jeans and underwear he's moving to lay down next to Derek, feet near Derek's head. D is quick to follow him, briefly sniffing at where his brother is seated on Derek before trotting over to Stiles' head, facing away from them. Stiles' mouth is watering as he stares up, seeing the swish of D's tail, offering tantalizing glimpses at his furry pucker, the heft of his balls swaying slightly as the dog pants. Peter's footsteps follow slower, and Stiles can almost feel the smug enjoyment radiating off of him.

"Ready?"

"Please, yes." Stiles can't help the whine in his voice, but it's good because it seems to get him what he wants. D takes two steps back until his hind paws are touching the tops of Stiles' shoulders. He parts his mouth as Peter orders the dog to sit, giving a full body shudder when D plants his hole right over Stiles' mouth, his balls covering Stiles' nose and eyes. The pressure is a little more than he anticipated but he doesn't care, his face feeling engulfed in the musk of the dog.

"Lick, Stiles. Don't leave D empty." Peter's voice is firm and it helps spur Stiles on from his slight wonder. He opens his mouth more and lets his tongue sweep over fur and puckered skin, groaning at the rich musky flavor. D squrims a little, settling more firmly on Stiles' face, and it makes Stiles moan softly against the dog's ass. He licks over it's hole a couple of times before groaning and giving in to his instincts, spearing his tongue and beginning to thrust it in and out of the dog's ass. It's easy from there to get sloppy, spit dripping down the sides of his face, sucking on the dog's rim and trying not to shift too much and dislodge him. He can feel the heft of D's balls, feel that they're getting heavier as they fill from the attention Stiles is laving on the dog's ass. It's even better when he can feel a slight wetness dripping into his hair. He knows that means D's cock is starting to slide free of the sheath, and he's torn between wanting to stay here with D sitting on his face for the rest of the night, and getting that cock and knot in his ass.

Peter decides for him when he calls D and Bronx up. Encouraging Stiles and Derek to both sit up. Derek's face is red and sweaty, spit glistening all over it, and Stiles leans forward, knows he must look the same as he catches Derek's mouth with his, sucking on his tongue and groaning at the unmistakable taste of Bronx's ass on it. Peter lets them make out for a minute, savoring the different tastes from the dogs before he clears his throat and tosses down a bottle of lube between them.

"Open yourselves up as quick as you can." They rise to their knees and face each other, slicking their own hands as they go back to making out, fingering themselves. Stiles has this down to a science at this point, and it doesn't take long before he's rocking back on four fingers, assumes Derek's the same when Peter calls a halt. "Before I get you on the bench, I've got a treat for you both. On your hands and knees please, ass to ass."

He steps between them, slips his fingers into Derek and then into Stiles, making sure they're stretched. Stiles looks over his shoulder to see what Peter has, can see Derek is doing the same. He feels a low thrum of want when he sees what must be a custom ordered dildo, it's double ended and shaped like a dog cock, tapered at each end. There's no knot, but Stiles isn't bothered, he knows that there's a real one for him soon. Stiles watches as Peter slides one end into Derek's waiting hole, fucking it in and out a few times and seeming to enjoy the way it makes his nephew shudder. He stops playing soon enough and taps Stiles' hip.

"Back up, I know you want to feel your hole stretch around this too." Stiles moves back slowly, tilting his hips to give Peter a better angle when he's in range, gasping at the slide of the warmed rubber as it breaches him. He keeps backing up until he feels the edge of Peter's fist where he's holding the center of it, enjoying the way it fills him (not quite as good as D will). "Good boys, now fuck yourselves on this. Show much how much you want some doggy cock."

Want burns in Stiles' belly and he moans, hears Derek doing the same as he starts rocking back and forth, feeling the tug and catch of the dildo as it slides in and out of his hole. When D trots up to him, he opens his mouth, lets the dog lick inside, sucking on that meaty tongue and groaning into the sloppy dog kisses. By the slick sounds behind him, he thinks Derek and Bronx are doing the same and it makes him rock faster, his cock slapping against his belly, pre splattering the floor as it drips off his cockhead. Stiles doesn't know how long it's been when Peter stills him with a hand to his hip, but it feels like awhile.

"One day I'm going to record you both, let you see what desperate dog sluts you are, how willing you are to do what I ask to get a chance at having a knot in your ass." Stiles can only nod, feels like he's been on edge forever now. "Go on, over to the benches. Spread those holes and show the dogs their prize."

It takes some effort for Stiles and Derek to crawl to their respective benches, both of them with wobbly legs from the effort of fucking back on the double dog dildo, but eventually they make it, panting and happy as they spread their legs and reach back to pull their cheeks apart, almost in tandem. Stiles can see the way Peter smiles as he moves to one of the more comfortable looking chairs to watch. The dogs don't need instruction with the men both spread over the benches, not wasting any time at all before moving over them, mounting their bitches. Stiles cries out as D slides inside - the fit still tight despite how stretched he was by his fingers and Peter's toy. When Derek gasps too, Stiles tilts his face, catches Derek's mouth again.

It feels so good to kiss Derek while they're both being fucked within an inch of their lives, holes split open by thick dog cocks. It gets even better when he hears the crinkle of the plastic on the floor as Peter steps up over them and starts pissing. The stream is slow and steady, splashing down gently at where their faces meet, allowing them to catch puddles on their tongues to pass back and forth. It's distracting enough that Stiles doesn't realize D's knot is starting to swell until it gets large enough to have to force its way back in, locking behind his rim and making him cry out into Derek's mouth. Stiles works his ass over it, clenching down and rippling his hole to milk it, feeling the heat of the dog's come filling his belly.

"Derek's taught D a new trick, I think you'll like it. Once he's done filling you with his come and he turns ass to ass, he's going to fill you up again, piss inside you until your belly swells while Bronx fills Derek. Then I'm going to plug you up, get you under that rim chair, let Derek feed you Bronx's piss and come straight from his ass. When he's empty, I'll watch you feed him. By then the boys should be ready to go again, gonna let them knot you both before I take turns fucking the two of you. Want to feel how loose and wet you'll be." Stiles moans at the words, feels himself shudder as his cock starts to spit out his own release, come making a mess between his belly and the leather of the bench. He can't reply aside from nodding his agreement to Peter's words, gets rewarded with a caress to his hair. "This weekend is going to be so much fun."