Puppuccino Bonus Scene

Dog crates are useful. I’ve had a lot of clients who have balked at them the way Mason did. They see it as a cage, and cages are bad. It takes some work to convince them otherwise. For an anxious dog, a crate can be a refuge. For an overly energetic dog, a crate says “now is the time to chill.”

And for an anxious owner like Charlie, a crate is the solution he didn’t know we needed.

It’s been a week since Athena ran away. A week since Charlie bought the crate and said we’d try it my way. And what do you know? I was right.

I stop by after meeting with a new client, and I haven’t even finished knocking on the door when Charlie throws it open, grabs me by the front of my shirt, and pulls me into his apartment.

“Hi,” I say with a laugh. “How was your day?”

“Kissing now. Talk later.”

His hands on my body are nearly frantic. His mouth isn’t much better. Our feet tangle as I try to get us oriented, and I nearly take him down as I stumble.

“Easy there,” I say, holding on to him. “What’s the hurry?”

“Athena’s asleep. We’ve got twenty minutes, tops.”

My excitement to see him dims. Nothing I want to do with him takes twenty minutes.

“Where is she?” I say.

Charlie shrinks back. “In her crate.”

“Then what’s the problem?”

He squirms. “Well.”

“Charlie.”

Pink rises up on his cheeks, and it’s such a pretty color on him, but i’m ninety-nine percent sure I’m not going to like his answer.

“I’m trying not to leave her there for more than fifteen minutes at a time during the day.”

Well, what the hell’s the point of that? “Why not?”

“Because.” His gaze darts around the room. “It feels selfish. Like I’m just supposed to make her hang out there while we fuck?”

“You did the other day.”

“Well yeah, but I was thinking…”

And we have identified our problem. Charlie’s a smart guy, but when he thinks too much, everything gets infinitely more complicated.

He looks at me sheepishly, like a dog who’s been caught going through the garbage. It’s an expression that says I’m sorry. I couldn’t help myself. 

Sighing, I take his hand and walk him over to where he’s set up Athena’s crate in his office. She’s lying flat out, nose pressed up against the wire. When we walk in, she opens one eye, but otherwise she doesn’t move.

“She looks tired,” I say.

“We walked across the campus.”

That’s a long way. “From here?”

He smiles proudly up at me. “From here. She did really great. Only tried to eat a couple squirrels and tried to chase a kid, but she calmed down again when I gave her some cheese.”

And based on that, he has every reason to be proud. And I have every reason to reward him for his good work.

I gather him up, kissing his temple. “She’ll be all right.”

“But--”

As if to prove my point, Athena flops over on her side with a long-suffering groan, as if to remind us that we’re spoiling her beauty sleep.

“Come on.” I pull him out of the office and toward the bedroom.

We take a lot longer than twenty minutes.

Charlie lets me loop the slip leash around his wrists and tie it off to the headboard. He’s got room to move, but that makes it better as he starts to shake while I work the little wooden prostate massager inside him.

“Mason. Mason, please.”

“Shh.” I put a hand on his low back. “We’ve got time.”

I make him wait. I love making him wait. 

He’s trembling, and he’s so hard his dick is bobbing in time with his pulse. Fluid is smeared on his belly. I still have all my clothes on. My dick aches against my fly. He’s so perfect like this.

“Soon?” Charlie asks, watching me hopefully.

“You want to come soon?” I say, drawing the massager out of him. He nods jerkily, licking his lips. My pretty boy. I lean forward to kiss him. His thighs fall open to make room for me, and he ruts against my hip. I let him, for a moment anyway, before I sit up again and shake my head. “I think you can go longer.”

He does. He waits, because he’s a good boy. If he whines, that’s to be expected. He begs some too.

“Please. Please, Mason. Let me come. I want to come.” His whole body is flushed and his hair is wet at the temples with sweat. When I pull out the massager again, his hips keep moving, like just the memory of being fucked is enough to keep him going.

“Listen,” I say.

“What?” His eyes are squeezed shut.

“Listen. What do you hear?” The room is full of the sound of his heaving breaths.

“Nothing?” he says.

“How long has it been?”

“What?” This time, he opens his eyes.

“How long have we been doing this?”

He shakes his head. “I don’t know.”

Long enough. Enough that he’s forgotten about Athena. She would take over his entire life if he let her. But fortunately he has me.

I open my fly and let my pants fall to my knees. Charlie’s eyes pop open. 

“Now?” he says, voice mixed with awe and anticipation.

“Oh yes.”

All it takes is two thrusts and he’s spasming around me while come spurts against his belly. He strains against the leash, neck arching as he howls through his release. In the other room, an answering howl sounds, but I don’t think he hears. He makes a desperate noise as I seal my mouth against his, and I don’t last long either, pressing into his overheated body.

We take our time after. I untie him and massage his wrists, kissing the thin veins. He shakes against me and lets me hold him. I wait until his breathing evens out, until the trembling stops.

“Okay?” I ask.

“Mm-hmm.” He sounds dreamy. 

“I’ll get us some water. And something to clean up with.”

He doesn’t reply. 

I risk a glance in the office on my way back from the kitchen. Athena’s awake, sitting upright in her crate. She gives me one tail wag, then settles down again. If I were sentimental, I’d say she gives me a knowing wink, but probably it’s my imagination. Either way, her eyes are already drooping as I turn.

The apartment falls silent as I climb back into bed with Charlie. He mutters something, but he doesn’t sound like he needs an answer as I line our bodies up and wrap an arm around him. The sun’s barely down and we should eat at some point. But not yet.

We’ve got all the time we need.