[18+] Follow The Stud as he finishes his work in the city and makes his way back home.

Today’s story is the second of two parts of “I’m Just Your Stud” by Dirt Coyote, who, when he’s not causing all sorts of trouble on twitter, is writing a novel, a novella, and short furry fiction. Find him at DirtCoyote on Twitter for future updates.

Read for you by Khaki, your faithful fireside companion.

This week's two-parter is an adult story for mature listeners.

If that's not your cup of tea,

or if there are youngsters listening,

you can skip these and there'll be new stories for you next week.

You’re listening to The Voice of Dog.

I’m Khaki, your faithful fireside companion,

and Today’s story is the second of two parts of

“I’m Just Your Stud”

by Dirt Coyote, who,

when he’s not causing all sorts of trouble on twitter, is writing a novel,

a novella, and short furry fiction.

Find him at DirtCoyote on Twitter for future updates. [if this is the second or third entry]

Last time, [the Stud,

a sex-for-hire oposssum,

had just finished his first client and was right in the middle of wrapping things up with an arctic fox.]

“I’m Just Your Stud”

by Dirt Coyote, Part 2 of 2

Alright, where were we?

Right. Foxy boy just ordered me for a second helping, and by the time I finish,

he’s covered in two hefty loads of his own spunk and completely worn out.

Thankfully, I managed to keep most of his spunk off me this time,

but I’ve gotta freshen up in his bathroom for a second.

Usually, I try really hard to keep myself clean.

Something about asking to use a stranger’s shower feels awkward, like if your rideshare driver

asks to use your restroom.

When I come out, he’s struggling to keep awake but offers to share tea with him.

Packing my things though,

I gotta turn him down.

“Thanks, but no thanks. You just

get yourself some sleep.”

Before I’m even out of the room, he’s out like a light.

Cute fella. Maybe I’m worn out myself,

but I’m slow leaving while just listening to him snore gently. Ain’t no part in it for me to be enjoying myself, so I close the door softly and walk out onto the street.

I finish giving him another five stars and pull down the ‘more options’ tab to add him to my preferred list. The next time he turns on his app, I’ll be the first Stud he’ll see. Heck,

next time I might take him up on that drink.

It’s not even a full minute from giving him his rating that I hear that familiar Ding.

Busy day today, I guess.

When I check the app, my tummy gives me a little grumble in protest and I have to swipe on the dude.

Sorry guy, but I need to eat something

and I’m definitely not gonna do that on an empty stomach.

I tell the app that I’m gonna be taking a break for the next hour,

allowing me to schedule out my day without taking any immediate requests.

Appointments come in pretty fast and I’m booked

full just as I lick up the mayo from my club sandwich off my whiskers.

Today is going to be a good day!

Right off the bat,

I’m down on the northside spanking a hippo’s ass red with a riding crop.

After that is a wolf out along the beach on the other end of the city.

When I arrive he’s got a ridiculous pizza uniform and an empty cardboard box for me.

I put it on, go back outside, ring the doorbell,

and he asks me if there’s any other way he can pay for his pizza.

Oh don’t laugh at him!

Everyone’s got their thing

and he ain’t hurtin’ no one.

Heck, there was this one time where some skunk had me put on a costume of a certain purple dinosaur.

Even asked me to sing the song while he—

Actually! You know, I probably shouldn’t be telling people that story as often as I do.

All I’m sayin’ is that pizza boy delivery fantasy isn’t as weird as things can get.

I finish my day with some watersports stuff

and a very very thirsty alligator.

Don’t worry ‘bout him.

His thirst is thoroughly quenched

and I’m thoroughly pooped.

You’re probably wondering in your head,

“what wouldn’t this guy do?”

and the answer is:

you don’t want to know.

Anyone that I’ve ever told the honest truth to hasn’t been able to look at me the same way since.

Just know, I’ve done things, some of which I discovered to enjoy myself,

and others I don’t mind doing. ‘Specially

if you’ve got the dough for it.

Back on the rail,

I’m about ready to turn it in when I hear the familiar Ding of my phone and cock my head.

Whoever is knocking is about to be sorely disappointed unless they can jog 300mph to come chase me down.

To my surprise though, they must be doing just that, because the map is showing them following me.

I look at his picture

and then turn around in my seat, looking for a second

until I spot the big rhino in the back.

How the heck? Oh, right. He saw my backpack.

Alright, buddy. What’s the services?

Just a Handy J?

Okay, that isn’t such a big deal,

but we’re out in public and I can read this guy up and down like he came with an instruction manual.

I accept his request,

but don’t immediately get out of my seat.

We’ve got about thirty more minutes on this ride

and I send him a message in the app to meet me in the bathroom in

about five. Once I send it,

I turn back to him to catch his reaction. Ding.

Oh yeah, it sounds the same on both ends and I can see by the way he’s reading it,

he’s not so happy.

What? I’m sitting on five point O as far as he can tell, so he’s gotta trust me.

He looks up, notices me and rolls his eyes before tucking in.

Listen to me buddy, I can jerk you off in the back, but I can tell that you aren’t gonna be quiet about it.

When I want you to sing, you’ll hit every note all the way up.

After about two minutes, he gets out of his seat

and walks towards the back.

So much for patience.

I give it a minute before getting up and following him towards the closet sized bathroom.

Without even checking the lock,

I slide the door open and slip in as discreetly as possible.

When I’m inside, he’s on the toilet, pants and briefs down to the floor

stroking himself for me.

That makes my job easy.

No need to waste lube on this guy.

I spit right into my paws and slick them up nice and good before getting to work.

It’s cramped in here, but I manage to find enough space to kneel at his

side. It’s kinda hard to grab hold of him cause, well,

there ain’t a whole lot to get a hold of.

He’s smaller than me and—

Well, I guess I don’t have a whole lot of room to talk, do I?

At least he’s thick, so I can work with that.

As soon as I touch the tough rugged skin,

I can tell exactly how he likes it.

My grip is iron around his shaft and my strokes are short and fast.

His foreskin folds over his head

and pulls back down with each pump of his cock.

He’s leaning back and,

just like I predicted,

he’s moaning like we weren’t in a bathroom on a train.

Something mutters out his mouth, and I almost miss it,

but I think I hear him correctly.

Sure thing buddy.

I guess I’m feeling generous today. “Mfff,

you’ve got such a big dick.

Bigger than any rhino I’ve ever seen,”

I lie. It’s exactly what he wants to hear.

Moans bounce against the steel frame bathroom walls,

echoing loudly and rattling my brain between my ears. He’s got a hoof underneath his shirt pinching his nipples tightly and twisting them.

The air is mostly his breath and pheromones mixing into an inescapable cloud of rhino musk.

As I feel him reach past the point of no return,

he throws his head back and moans out,

“That’s a good Fa—”

My ears fold back just as I catch the word and my lips purse tightly.

What a jackass. This was just a handjob and I don’t remember signing up for getting called that at any point.

Degradation costs $30 and even then,

there’s a list of words that are not okay to call me

even if I do agree to it.

That one is right at the freakin’ top.

All I’ve gotta do is keep cool for the next five seconds for him to finish dripping cum into my paw. His eyes

are closed, which is good,

cause I can’t really hide how pissed off I am.

When he’s finished, I just wash my paws clean in the sink and

walk out without a single word exchanged.

Don’t give a shit if he wanted more or not, cause I’m already giving him a one star in my app

and a bill for the degradation added on top of what he owes.

Stud might be an evil soulless tech app,

but nine times out of ten, they’ll side with me in any disputes.

His rating drops from a 3.9 down to a 3.6.

He better bring flowers to the next Stud he sees.

If he gets anything less than a 4, he’ll drop below 3.5 and the app will boot him.

Enjoy jerking yourself off, tiny prick.

I’m walking back to my seat and there’s sets of eyes on me. Fucker was loud enough that I’m sure the conductor at the front is snickering to himself.

Yeah yeah, I get it:

You all know. Oh no,

I’ve been caught. Call a cop.

I’m sure they’d love to hear all about how someone got jerked in public.

Newsflash, buddy:

I’ve whacked off at least a couple dozen dudes on this train and splashed their spunk all over the seats.

That’s right. You’re sitting in the crusty remains of the work of yours truly.

Okay, maybe I just need to settle down some.

I get back to my spot and shoot a text to my group telling them I got a story about a two inch rhino they’d all love to hear.

Oh! What’s that? You thought this was just between you and me? Ha!

Not even close. There ain’t nothing in the rules that says I’ve gotta keep my mouth shut.

Better yet, me and all the gals are yukkin’ and yakkin’ it up at the Habaneros Bar and Grill over margaritas and shots.

Me and about ten other Studs meetup every Wednesday night to talk about our week and our clients.

When you get rid of all the negative stigmas and secrecy around sex, it actually ends up being pretty funny.

Heads get bonked, tails get tangled, and the occasional dick gets bent.

Alright, I ain’t ever bent no one’s dick, but as perfect as I am,

mistakes happen sometimes.

My favorite story to tell is about me and

this goat really going at it in his bedroom.

He’s got a dozen lit candles on the headboard though, thinking maybe it’s romantic or something.

Either way, his horns get lodged into the headboard, two candles come down right on my back, I’m screaming bloody murder coated in hot wax,

while he’s struggling to pull himself off the bed!

We almost burn down the whole place!

Alright, that tale gets a wee bit taller every day.

One story I tell that isn’t exaggerated

is the time someone ‘bought’ me as a gift for their friend’s eighteenth.

Totally against the rules,

but I didn’t see the harm in it.

Rat kid wants to go down on me and I’m thinking

who’s the one getting the birthday gift.

Not me! Swear he’s got a cheese grater in his muzzle and I gotta beg him to stop.

I give him head in exchange that he promises to never

EVER put those razor blades anywhere near another person’s junk

until he’s practiced with a banana everyday straight for at least a month.

Good times. I’m walking down the hall to my building

excited to play some games

when I heard the familiar Ding from my phone.

Darnit, I forgot to turn the damn thing off.

The app will give me shit if I reject too many people on the same

day and there’s absolutely no way I’m going back out there tonight.

Thankfully, when I open up the app,

it’s a familiar face staring back at me.

Oh my my, has it really been two weeks already?

I accept it and then click the “last call” button so that it knows to log me out after my services are rendered.

Instead of opening my apartment,

I walk back down the hall to the last door in the back.

A quick check to make sure I’m still looking my A game,

and I tap lightly against the wood.

There’s some shuffling on the other side

and I can tell he’s cleaning up as hastily as possible before the door swings open.

My smile is larger than it’s been all day,

and I say softly,

“Hey, Timmy.” “H-hi,” the otter mumbles back, unable to look me in the eye.

He steps out of the doorframe

and lets me through,

his muzzle to the ground the entire time.

He’s heavyset, probably weighs two or three of me,

and it’s kinda hard to get around him with all his junk lying around.

Don’t think I don’t know where your UBI goes to, kid.

Action figurines, cardboard movie cutouts, superhero costumes,

and fantasy movie replicas

litter every square inch of his apartment.

Our little secret,

but I’m just as big of a nerd as he is

and I recognize most the shit he’s got lying around.

I’d like to talk with him about the cardboard cutout of Doug Riot,

but he’s kind of a recluse.

I’ve seen him in the kitchen maybe a couple times,

but otherwise he stays in his room all day.

Most of the other tenants are transplants,

but I think he might’ve been taken in after getting kicked out for being gay or a hermit.

That’s none of my business though and

my only concern is giving him the services he’s requested.

“Would you want to just jerk off in front of each other?”

he asks softly, still unable to look at me.

Well, three things.

First, I didn’t order me; you ordered me, so what I want doesn’t really fall into the equation right now.

Second though, no it would not be alright.

There’s nothing in the app for “mutual jackoff session” in the list of services I provide and you ordered a handjob.

And third, I’m not gonna say any of this because we’ve already had this conversation at least a hundred times and I’m too tired to go at it again.

“Sure thing, buddy.

Lemme help you out of those,”

I whisper, leading him into his own room and sitting atop his bed.

He takes a seat next to me

and holds out his arm, accepting the offer without a word.

There’s a thrill that he gets when my fingers hook underneath his shirt

and pull it up over his head.

The tips of my claws

drag through his sides,

pressing through his rough fur so I can feel his soft body.

A sharp inhale tells me

I’m doing all the right things,

but I knew that cause I feel his pleasure at my tips.

I know he’s enjoying this because I’m enjoying it a little bit myself.

When the shirt comes off over his head,

he’s looking at me now,

staring with his maw agape.

He leans in part way

and I fill the rest of the gap,

kissing him right on the lips.

I’m rubbing his belly with one paw while the other fights to take off my own shirt

while holding the kiss.

We have to part only for a second

as I rip the rest of my clothes off and he follows suit. I’m hard and so is he,

already stroking himself while taking in my naked body. “You’re

the most beautiful person I’ve ever seen,”

he just barely manages to choke out.

You know, I’m one of the most top rated Studs that you can get, and still,

he’s the only one that ever tells me that.

It’s not that I need the compliment or nothin’, cause

I know to some extent that I’m good lookin’.

But he didn’t say good lookin’,

or attractive, or sexy, or hot, or fuckable, or whatever.

He said beautiful, and right at this moment,

I kinda feel like it.

Crawling up onto the bed, I get comfortable on my knees

and he does the same right across from me.

Oops, looks like he might’ve extended himself too far with that comment.

He’s not able to look at me anymore,

abashed from being too bold.

Nuh uh, guy. You paid for me, so you’re going to watch the show now.

Reaching over cautiously,

I touch his chin and guide it slowly back to me,

while I begin to touch myself in front of him.

I’m all the way out of my sheath,

but instead of strokes, I’m just

dragging a finger along my shaft so he can get a clear view.

Now, I’ve got big rules about finishing with a client.

Mainly, I don’t. I only like to cum when I’m in my room enjoying it by myself.

If I peak halfway through my day, then I’m just gonna turn off the app and head home to lounge about on my couch.

But, it is at the end of my day and

technically, I’m in the same building so that kinda counts, right?

Either way, I know I want to do this with him

and so I start jerking it.

My paw shifts to his shoulder,

leaning up against his weight while beating myself off.

He’s huddling into me as well,

watching my strokes

and pacing himself to my rhythm.

I’ve been kinda pent up all day and feels good to just

let loose. Our panting becomes one and our breath

mixes into an aromatic cocktail.

Biting my lip and digging my claws into his thick pelt,

I feel my orgasm rushing forth quickly. Hope you can catch up kid!

A muffled cry squeaks out my muzzle before the first wave of my cum shoots hard enough to coat a line on the otter big brown belly.

I throw my head back and moan,

closing my eyes tightly as I climax without care of the mess I’m making.

Probably should have laid down some towels, but I don’t give a shit.

If I can make my clients feel half as good as I’m feeling right now,

It’s no fucking wonder why people pay me to do this.

Coming down, I lower my muzzle until I can look down at the damages.

To my surprise, most of my cum is on the otter and my paws,

but that’s not the only thing.

My orgasm must’ve been pretty intense,

because I didn’t even realize that the otter had glazed me similarly.

It’s all over my chest, my stomach,

and, what’s this, an itty bitty splash on my whiskers.

Jeez kid, you got permits on that rifle?

We see the mess made on ourselves

and laugh at the same time before collapsing onto our backs to enjoy our afterglow. There’s

barely enough room on this bed for the two of us,

but I just need some time to catch my breath.

Without even thinking about it though,

I position myself so we’re touching side to side.

At this moment,

it’s the most comfortable bed I’ve rested on in my entire life.

I nudge him before we almost pass out.

“We’re gonna need to shower.

shower.” I worry he’s fallen asleep, but he answers hesitantly,

“You can use it first.”

“Nah, let’s get in together.

I know we can fit.”

We do and we take our time lathering each other up while remaining silent.

There’s something on his mind and I know what it is, but he’s gotta ask me so I can tell him no.

Tonight was a night,

I had a lot of fun,

but it’s time for me to go home and get back to my computer.

Those videos of grandmas tripping into pools won’t play themselves, will they?

I’ve got a social media account to scroll through!

Who knows what crazy things my aunt Dawn has said today.

I’m out drying my fur in his bedroom when he finally asks,

“Can we cuddle on the bed?” Nuh uh, buddy.

Don’t go fallin’ in love with me, mista.

I’m just your Stud.

You ordered me, pal,

and as far as I’m concerned, our business is concluded.

There ain’t no service called “Cuddle and fall asleep together - fifteen dollars” anywhere in the app.

Doesn’t matter anyways because the app is off and nobody can order me again until I turn the damn thing back on.

That’s that and there ain’t no way—

“Yeah, buddy. Let’s do that.”

Ohhh, why you doing this to me, heart?

There ain’t no place in this for me to enjoy myself, but I wanna anyways.

We crawl up back into the bed,

getting underneath the soiled sheets.

Tomorrow, we’ll get them down to the laundry first thing in the morning.

I don’t really mind his smell

and his scents already thick on me anyways

when he wraps his arms around me.

He doesn't last much longer than a couple minutes before he’s snoring in my ear.

It’s not loud, but just a comforting reminder that he’s there.

I slip out from underneath him,

thinking that I can just get dressed and go back to my room.

It’s not like I haven’t done this before, so he can handle it.

I don’t though, and instead just pull out my phone from my pants

and tuck back in with him.

Flipping open my app,

I see I’m sitting at a perfect 5 point O rating.

Nice! I can also see that I’ve made over six hundred dollars today.

That’s pretty damn good.

Good enough to pay rent but

maybe good enough to take tomorrow off?

Maybe I can convince him to go out for coffee or some breakfast?

Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad to put down the app and get back into the classroom to see the cubs again?

Maybe, but right now I’m feeling kinda tired.

Anyways, we’ll see what happens.

In the meantime, thanks for sticking around.

Ahhhh, good night world.

This was the second of two parts of

“I’m Just Your Stud”

by Dirt Coyote, read for you by Khaki,

your faithful fireside companion.

As always, you can find more stories on the web at thevoice.dog, or find the show wherever you get your podcasts.