Shownotes
Today’s story is “Our Last Valentine” by by Domus Vocis, who spends his time reading bad fanfiction when he’s not braving the Arctic winters of Wisconsin, and published his debut novel, “The Adventures of Peter Gray” in 2018. You can also find more of his stories on Patreon.
This story will be read for you by Ardy Hart, a wolf of all trades.
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Transcripts
Today's story concerns adult subject matter for mature listeners.
Speaker:If that's not your cup of tea,
Speaker:or there are youngsters listening,
Speaker:please skip this one
Speaker:and come back for another story another time.
Speaker:You're listening to The Voice of Dog,
Speaker:and today's story is
Speaker:Our Last Valentine
Speaker:by Domus Vocis,
Speaker:who spends his time reading bad fanfiction when he's not braving the arctic winters of Wisconsin,
Speaker:and published his debut novel,
Speaker:The Adventures of Peter Gray, in 2018.
Speaker:You can also find more of his stories on Patreon.
Speaker:This story will be read for you
Speaker:by Ardy Hart, a wolf of all trades.
Speaker:Please enjoy Our Last Valentine
Speaker:by Domis Vocis The Motel 9 in Crossroads City had a reputation.
Speaker:For one, some of the more immature punks living in the nearby suburbs liked calling it the ‘Motel 69’,
Speaker:on account of many things.
Speaker:For one, the joke made too much sense not to make.
Speaker:Second, the price for a single night made the risk of illicit hookups worth each nickel and quarter, especially when most of the money would be better spent paying for a hustler’s ass.
Speaker:I remembered taking my senior prom date
Speaker:—a punk feline like myself
Speaker:—up there into one of the rooms up on the second floor and giving her a fucking good night to remember.
Speaker:She certainly gave me one,
Speaker:but not compared to me and John’s first time.
Speaker:The Motel 9 had few cars parked in the lot but hearing a police siren in the distance did put me on edge a little.
Speaker:Clenching my paws into fists and quickening my pace up the wooden staircase,
Speaker:I ignored the quiet, brooding vixen in tight shorts smoking a drag against the balcony railing.
Speaker:I ignored the enticing smell of weed escaping from one of the rooms,
Speaker:as well as paid little attention to a loud moan coming from Room 21.
Speaker:No, my attention lay on Room 28.
Speaker:I exhaled a hesitant sigh.
Speaker:“Get a grip, you fucker…”
Speaker:I muttered to nobody but myself.
Speaker:A shriveled part of me sought to turn tail back to the Old Rainbow,
Speaker:back to Harley’s burly arms as he rode his motorcycle off into the sunset,
Speaker:but I didn’t. “You’ll regret it for the rest of your miserable life…”
Speaker:He didn’t answer the door after I knocked three times in succession.
Speaker:He didn’t yank the door open to pull me into his strong canid arms, let alone offer me a Western-style kiss.
Speaker:John was too cautious for his own good.
Speaker:Rather, he just simply unlocked door with a loud clank,
Speaker:then gave me a courteous nod before quietly inviting me into the motel room.
Speaker:Seeing the heavy bags under his once-bright eyes shone into by pale moonlight creeping inside,
Speaker:the sad smile etched on his muzzle like a jester’s mask,
Speaker:it broke my heart.
Speaker:John closed the door behind us as I awkwardly placed my denim jacket on the nearby hook.
Speaker:His lay discarded on a chair in the corner facing the disused bed.
Speaker:An engagement ring glinted on his left hand.
Speaker:The same one he used to pull me into a hug I reluctantly yet contentedly accepted.
Speaker:That was when a smile crept up my lips.
Speaker:“Happy Valentine’s Day, big guy.”
Speaker:John sniffled into my shoulder,
Speaker:then returned the sad smile to me when he pulled away,
Speaker:holding my arms in his.
Speaker:His deep exhale tickled my whiskers.
Picture this:a punk mountain lion and a Mormon timber wolf, both in their early twenties.
Picture this:The mountain lion’s most prized possession were his fangs and a denim jacket with metal spikes and the most garish anarchy pins and embroidered patches imaginable,
Picture this:his thick skull topped off by dirty blonde, unkempt headfur that used to be a wild mohawk.
Picture this:The punk mountain lion grew up in the foster system,
Picture this:spending his days with the wrong crowds and getting into trouble.
Picture this:Then, he met a timber wolf in high school.
Picture this:They became friends due to circumstances (and
Picture this:the poor-ass school district)
Picture this:forcing them to be in the same classes together.
Picture this:A few years down the line, the timber wolf went to Utah State,
Picture this:meaning they could still hang out while the punk mountain lion made a living bartending between niche establishments.
Picture this:Then one day…they both realized they’d fallen in love.
Picture this:The punk fell in love with the wolf,
Picture this:but somebody else caught the timber wolf’s gaze.
Picture this:Or rather, something else did. “H
Picture this:-Happy Valentine’s Day, Travis…”
Picture this:He spoke uneasily,
Picture this:eyes flicking between the bed and me.
Picture this:“How…How are you?” “Good.”
Picture this:I cleared my throat, and I sat down on the bed.
Picture this:“Harley told me he’s ready to leave by either morning or tonight.”
Picture this:A scoff and a laugh escaped the back of my trembling throat.
Picture this:“He-He said, and I quote, ‘You
Picture this:wanna fuck him,
Picture this:that’s fine by me.’”
Picture this:“Really?” John guffawed as if he hadn’t considered it too.
Picture this:“He actually said that?”
Picture this:I nodded cheekily.
Picture this:“Yeah, Harley’s open-minded.”
Picture this:A shrug led me to hugging my elbows.
Picture this:“He’s real sweet too.
Picture this:He uh, he understood that you…you
Picture this:were an important part of my life.
Picture this:He said he won’t hold it against me if we end up doing anything.”
Picture this:“And you two are…” He paused,
Picture this:“…like, actually happy together?”
Picture this:Giving up a deep sigh, I couldn’t stop myself from forming a smile.
Picture this:The thought of me and Harley starting over in San Amaro,
Picture this:leaving behind the arid city, and making a life together in California.
Picture this:Meanwhile, John planned to sacrifice freedom for stability and getting into Heaven.
Picture this:Or rather, the Latter-Day Saints’ version of Heaven.
Picture this:I doubted his ideas for the next great American novel would come to fruition with the life he’d chosen.
Picture this:“Yeah. We are.” I answered.
Picture this:“He’s a great guy.
Picture this:There’s a motorbike shop that’s eager to hire him next week, and he’s gonna try to see if the boss knows any joints I could bartend.
Picture this:Turns out there’s quite a few available in Cali.
Picture this:One of ‘em is a gay bar.”
Picture this:John’s ears slightly perked back up.
Picture this:“A gay bar, huh?
Picture this:Like the Old Rainbow?” “Like the Old Rainbow,”
Picture this:I confirmed with a small shrug,
Picture this:“but this one’s apparently got a dance floor.
Picture this:An actual dance floor,
Picture this:and from what Harley’s boss has told him, it’s quite a hangout.
Picture this:You’d…I think you’d like it, dude.”
Picture this:One of his ears perked momentarily,
Picture this:as if he planned to ask,
Picture this:“You think so?” He didn’t though.
Picture this:He couldn’t, not anymore.
Picture this:He probably didn’t even realize I’d noticed the way he looked at that ring of his on his finger.
Picture this:The lump in the back of my throat dissipated enough for me to ask,
Picture this:“How…How’s Katherine doing?”
Picture this:A heavy, awkward silence passed over us.
Picture this:Why the fuck did I suddenly decide to mention her?
Picture this:Part of me wanted to cut out my tongue in that instant,
Picture this:but John saved grace.
Picture this:“She’s doing fine.
Picture this:Excited for the wedding and all.”
Picture this:He cleared his throat and softly smiled.
Picture this:The sadness shining in his fangs reflected mine.
Picture this:“We ought to…y’know,
Picture this:get on with it. Kathy won’t be expecting me ‘til morning,
Picture this:but you…you got your thing.”
Picture this:For the first time recently, I had to agree with the wolf, especially without reluctance.
Picture this:The night wasn’t going to be young forever.
Picture this:If we were actually going to enjoy ourselves one final time,
Picture this:there wasn’t any point in waiting longer.
Picture this:After turning the television on to the MTV channel, tuning the volume up to an appropriate level as background noise,
Picture this:John set his ring on the nightstand. The
Picture this:first time for us happened in our mid-teens, when the prospect of getting laid seemed more desperate then.
Picture this:It started off as an awkward cold war between the two of us,
Picture this:silently capturing quick glances of the other in either gym or
Picture this:during an inconspicuous time spent sleeping over at the other’s place.
Picture this:Between the days spent attending/skipping classes, spending our allowances on a night to see the latest flick in the movie theater,
Picture this:and sneaking in popular albums to listen to on his dad’s record player,
Picture this:our friendship became a battlefield of lust and emotions we’d never experienced in the open. Ironically,
Picture this:he made the first move.
Picture this:He kissed me as a surprise gift for my seventeenth birthday
Picture this:(his parents confiscated the present he’d planned to give me;
Picture this:a vinyl release of Hotel California.
Picture this:Sadly, they tossed it into the garbage without a second thought)
Picture this:during the latter half of my birthday party, when my large family already went to bed and the other guests wandered back home.
Picture this:It’d been a quick, passionate kiss in case somebody suddenly burst through the door,
Picture this:but the kiss felt like a glorious eternity.
Picture this:If memory served me correctly, the first thought on my mind was:
Picture this:John’s lips taste like Heaven.
Picture this:They still did, pressed close to mine,
Picture this:his sweet tongue asking for permission to enter my muzzle.
Picture this:I gladly granted him access,
Picture this:melting into his arms.
Picture this:A moan bubbled up my throat.
Picture this:It echoed into a needing purr and eventually led me to my paws travelling further underneath his buttoned-up shirt.
Picture this:Unfastening each button with unsteady fingers, we eventually peeled it off so I could marvel at his chest and biceps again.
Picture this:By the time we shed all our clothes, save for socks,
Picture this:we were already exploring the other’s bodies with enough years of experience.
Picture this:We weren’t fumbling teens or uncertain college students anymore,
Picture this:experimenting between gropes and enthusiastic strokes. John
Picture this:never preferred anal.
Picture this:I could go either way, but he found it more thrilling when I used my feline tongue to tease his member out of that thick, well-groomed sheath hanging between his legs.
Picture this:As I inhaled his musk and chuckled upon hearing the wolf whimper when my cold nose touched his tip,
Picture this:causing a small strand of pre to bridge between us,
Picture this:I slipped my tongue into the foreskin.
Picture this:The cock throbbed its way free,
Picture this:followed by a long chorus of moans elicited like music from the first man I ever loved. “Oh,
Picture this:Trav…” He whimpered between desperate pants, running his fingers through my headfur the same time I fondled his knot free. “Trav,
Picture this:that’s it…Oh God!” I
Picture this:bided my time on him that night.
Picture this:The previous times we’d done this, before the engagement announcement out of the blue,
Picture this:had been calculated.
Picture this:Society and (his) girlfriends restricted the time we spent releasing our carnal desires out of sight.
Picture this:The nights together were planned meticulously,
Picture this:to the point we focused on one sex act over the other.
Picture this:That night though,
Picture this:I hoped to do more than a simple blowjob, handjob, or quick fuck.
Picture this:We could…do more,
Picture this:and we did. Once I pushed John close enough to the sexual edge, tapering closely to the point of no chaste return, I pulled
Picture this:my lips away to smile up at him.
Picture this:He wiped drool from his chin, lustfully smiling back.
Picture this:By the time I crawled up his sweaty, stinking chest to bring us into another long kiss,
Picture this:John began rubbing himself against my thigh while
Picture this:possessively caressing my wrists.
Picture this:Our tails swished in tandem over the edge of the mattress.
Picture this:Our fingers interlaced in nostalgic warmth.
Picture this:An alternative rock band began playing the first chorus.
Picture this:John’s erect cock leaked against my stomach, staining the fur, and washing the two of us in thick canine and feline musk.
Picture this:It seemed I was also leaking loads without realizing,
Picture this:had I not been distracted in the parting kiss.
Picture this:Why did each kiss with him remind me of our first?
Picture this:Why didn’t he feel brave enough to leave Crossroads City like me?
Picture this:We could’ve escaped Utah to go somewhere else,
Picture this:be free and happy with our own kind.
Picture this:He could finish that spectacular novel in a tiny apartment we’d share,
Picture this:walk along a beach,
Picture this:attend one of the parades.
Picture this:Deep down though,
Picture this:I knew the answer.
Picture this:It stared at me from the nightstand.
Picture this:We parted for air once again.
Picture this:John licked his jowls, murmuring,
Picture this:“Remember our first time?”
Picture this:A bewildered giggle led to him tilting his head in confusion.
Picture this:Nodding back to him, the wolf pecked my lips and whispered,
Picture this:“I…I love—” Without giving him a chance to finish that lie, I jammed my tongue back into his maw, and pulled him atop me.
Picture this:Blunt claws dug into the dense fur along his back the more he fought tongue and cock against mine.
Picture this:The minutes ticked closer to midnight by the time our feverish frotting grew more frantic.
Picture this:I think the previous time we’d done nothing but make out in a motel bed,
Picture this:it’d been the last month before university when John’s parents entrusted him to being on his own at the house.
Picture this:They went to a friends’ wedding in Arizona,
Picture this:leaving the house to us for an entire weekend.
Picture this:The various ways we committed sodomy would’ve put his parents in straightjackets,
Picture this:had they known the full extent of our ‘friendship’.
Picture this:What a weekend…yeah,
Picture this:what a weekend. Grinding himself against my less-furry body, marveling at my male form in audible adoration,
Picture this:John trailed kisses up and down my chin.
Picture this:I stroked my paws up and down his lower back.
Picture this:I fondled his right ass cheek the same time he rocked against me.
Picture this:Our combined weight nearly made the mattress’ squeaks rise above the music coming from the television box.
Picture this:Yet it didn’t distract us from our groaning,
Picture this:moaning, squelching,
Picture this:thrusting movements.
Picture this:We were too lost in each other’s union to care.
Picture this:“Ah! Ah!” I moan into his sweating neck,
Picture this:lapping and nuzzling into his nape. “J
Picture this:-John, I’m about to…to
Picture this:—” “Mfh! Me too…Me too!”
Picture this:Our tails thrashed like tentacles.
Picture this:Seconds later, we lay together in a sticky mess after spurting jets of hot cum coated our stomachs,
Picture this:and we realized how much sweat had sunk into the bedding.
Picture this:We’d been so hot and panting in our afterglow, the dingy motel room might as well have been a furnished sauna.
Picture this:We didn’t talk as much after the sex.
Picture this:For one, I did quietly apologize for getting the bedsheets stained to hell and back,
Picture this:leaving him to pull out the spare sheets from a closet as I went to shower.
Picture this:I’d almost expected the big wolf to invite himself in,
Picture this:maybe even let us do a round two.
Picture this:That’d been wishful thinking though.
Picture this:He decided against it though,
Picture this:since I spent a good ten minutes alone underneath the faucet,
Picture this:glaring at the cheap shower curtain patterned in bright pastels and grime.
Picture this:The weight from before seemed to wash away into the drain,
Picture this:leaving my tanned fur pristine of his sins again.
Picture this:I dried off my fur with one of the room’s pastel towels,
Picture this:then walked out to find the bedding not only changed,
Picture this:but John hunched over it,
Picture this:still without clothing.
Picture this:Or his engagement ring.
Picture this:There it sat, still starring at us from its vantage point,
Picture this:judging us. Judging him.
Picture this:The two of us already talked about it.
Picture this:We’d already shed the painful tears and hurt shouts at the other.
Picture this:He’d made his choice.
Picture this:He’d chosen stability over us and wanted to spend the rest of his life in Hell before entering Heaven.
Picture this:Without a word, I dressed myself back up and went to the hook to grab my jacket.
Picture this:It was time to go to Harley.
Picture this:“Travis?” I paused at the knob when he said my name.
Picture this:The boots I wore suddenly felt like lead. “What
Picture this:is it, John?” My tone sounded more accusatory than I’d wanted it to be. The
Picture this:mattress squeaked,
Picture this:followed by shifting that suddenly led to me feeling his arms around my stomach.
Picture this:He hugged me close,
Picture this:his snout burying itself into the back of my neck.
Picture this:It brought me back to the same elation we’d shared earlier,
Picture this:when it felt like our own little world again.
Picture this:It was only when John pulled away that I turned the door handle. “Good
Picture this:-bye, Trav.” He said, sniffling. The
Picture this:words naturally flowed out, but I dared not to turn back to the wolf.
Picture this:Otherwise, I’d see the pained look in his eyes, which would compel me to stay longer.
Picture this:Much, much longer.
Picture this:“…good-bye, John. Happy Valentine’s Day.” “You
Picture this:too, Trav. You too.” *** The
Picture this:walk from my past to my present felt like an eternity,
Picture this:until the Motel 9 finally disappeared around the corner,
Picture this:and a certain row of bars came into view.
Picture this:Their neon lights drenched the icy sidewalk in technicolor spotlights.
Picture this:The lack of much February snowfall was made up for by an evening windchill
Picture this:that made me hug my arms closer to my body.
Picture this:The tears I shed on my way to the Old Rainbow
Picture this:made me thankful for the jacket.
Picture this:Ah, the Old Rainbow.
Picture this:One of the only places I’d dearly miss from Crossroads.
Picture this:Plenty of wild, good memories to be found inside.
Picture this:They were the kind of memories I hoped to memorialize amongst the other ones to be discovered elsewhere.
Picture this:Luckily, I didn’t have to search for Harley long,
Picture this:as I found him leaning casually against his parked ride a good twenty feet from the inviting entrance.
Picture this:Like me, the large boar wore a leather jacket that did enough to protect us from the cold,
Picture this:only his jacket proudly displayed scars across the petroleum shoulder.
Picture this:There be history on that thing,
Picture this:some of which Harley had been more than eager to share.
Picture this:The pull-behind cargo trailer latched to Harley’s bike had all our things packed under a layer of tightened tarp.
Picture this:In a city like Crossroads in a neighborhood such as where the gay bars were, no junkie or thuggish louse attempted to step near it.
Picture this:Then again, Harley was Harley.
Picture this:With his back turned towards me, it wasn’t unmistakable to see that fiery logo of a bovine skull patched on his jacket,
Picture this:the boney nostril facing left westward.
Picture this:As far as I knew, Harley had to be the only out member of the Rawhides in all of Utah,
Picture this:let alone California.
Picture this:The fact the other furs,
Picture this:especially the carnivores heading in and out of the Old Rainbow,
Picture this:steered far from him just waiting for me,
Picture this:showed how much even the other sodomites kept wary.
Picture this:“Harley.” I spoke up over a howl of wind.
Picture this:“Hey, Harley!” Turning to my direction, a grin crept behind his tusks.
Picture this:“I was expectin’ you to be out a little longer…”
Picture this:He mentioned, “Did staying afterward hurt?”
Picture this:“Yeah…” I couldn’t help myself from nodding.
Picture this:“Yeah, it did. Felt like the longer we stayed there, the more it kept on hurting to leave,
Picture this:so I did it first.”
Picture this:“Good for you.” He chirped,
Picture this:“The Motel 69’s got shitty breakfast service anyway.”
Picture this:Laughing, I stepped forward to peck him on the lips.
Picture this:Followed by a more sensual, meaningful kiss.
Picture this:His breath tasted of recent huffs into a cigarette fresh from the pack.
Picture this:Either the nicotine coursing through his spit already started pumping into my veins,
Picture this:or the boar had a talent for giving me an immediate erection.
Picture this:Whatever the case, I returned the kiss in equal measure.
Picture this:“Happy Valentine’s Day, Harl.”
Picture this:I murmured fondly.
Picture this:He chuckled, “You too, babe.
Picture this:Now c’mon. We better get goin’.
Picture this:I’m fuckin’ freezing.”
Picture this:“Same here.” I giggled with a swish of my tail.
Picture this:Without a single beat, the boar sat down on his motorcycle, and I sat down right behind him.
Picture this:Harley’s Harley revved to life as he booted away the kickstand, and we sped down the road.
Picture this:Spring could already be seen making its scenic way to Crossroads,
Picture this:the arid city. Pitiful piles of snow were gradually replaced by sandy slush and
Picture this:the out-of-place Christmas lights.
Picture this:I swiveled my head to catch one more glimpse of my past.
Picture this:It’s outline already disappeared over the horizon,
Picture this:and as I squeezed tightly around my boyfriend’s stomach, feeling his chuckles vibrate into my wrist,
Picture this:I rested my chin on his shoulder. Together,
Picture this:we stared off into the unknown.
Picture this:This was Our Last Valentine
Picture this:by Domus Vocis, read for you by Ardy Hart,
Picture this:a wolf of all trades.
Picture this:Tou can find more stories on the web at thevoice.dog,
Picture this:or find the show wherever you get your podcasts.
Picture this:Thank you for listening to The Voice of Dog.