Mounds of fuzz

The weight of my body on his back made him sigh. He's driven several miles over the course of a couple of days and his body needed some attention from the abuse. His back is fuzzy. In fact all of him is fuzzy. Glorious fur all over. Soft, even coat.

My fingers dance over the top like wind over prarie grass, blowing each follicle this way and that, letting the root system send signals deep under the skin to his brain. Then an exploding palm spreading heat, alternating with fingers of close proximity trying to bend the airwaves between each strand of hair straining like antennae to receive a signal.

I'm exploring. His sides are sensitive, he almost jerks when my fingers reach his arm pits, but then they instantly relax and he sighs a moan. His head jerks back when the stubble on my chin rests in the valley between his strong shoulders, causing his back to arch and his ass to lift in that perfect moment that my cock flexes.

But I delay that and alternate from soft caresses to blunt pressure of my palm and arm across his back to a thumb poking at the knots that are aching to be untied. And when I get to his ass, I lose composure. I stare at it for a brief moment, my hands holding his two globes apart while his hole expectantly twitches and then I all but fall into the crevice. Less swan dive and more face plant. I'm hungry and I can't believe the feast he's serving. My tongue swirls, laps, curly cues to broad swipes, and my nose can't get enough of his musk. And so my nose works lower and deeper until it is buried in his ass and I start to pass out from the lack of oxygen. Suck. Chew. And then he all but yelps when he feels my stubble rake across his hole as I move up. Up his cleft, up that valley from the bottom of his spine up to his shoulders. Abated breath. And then a deep contented sigh when I let the weight of my hips fall down onto him and the blunt head of my cock hits squarely against his hole.

And I enter him.