The smell of chicken cooking with various herbs and spices kept poor Frank in a tizzy. He paced back and forth on the concrete stoop, trying to catch a glimpse inside the duplex. He could see Xander, busy with his cooking in the kitchen, through the dirty window, but he couldn't managed to catch sight of Rex, now in his human body, anywhere. The scents from Xander's meal kept Frank salivating, resulting in a flood of dog spittle that dribbled onto his furry chin and formed little pools on the concrete whenever he stayed in one spot too long. Anxious thoughts, nervous pacing, and his general state of barely contained panic since the bizarre swap burned through his energy reserves and caused his stomach to rumble from hunger. The gnawing, hungry sensations simply proved one more distraction in a brain already crowded with them.
Then, only a faint tease at first, Frank detected another scent carried on the warm breeze of an early autumn evening. His human memory matched it with nothing he had ever smelled, but his new canine form responded with an urgent growl and by leaving the stoop. He loped across the hardscrabble yard that always looked a tumbleweed short of belonging in an Old West flick. He stopped by the chain link fence as his nostrils flared to inhale more of the scent.
He felt like he had been slapped across the face as the scent increased in strength. He produced a low growl and used his hind legs to leap against the fence. He got his forepaws hooked to the top of the fence and sniffed the air with new enthusiasm. Only the earlier, now forgotten odors of Xander's cooking could have masked such a powerful aromatic signal. He gave another urgent whimper and dropped back onto all four paws. He experienced another new sensation as the intoxicating scent caused more reactions, prompting his canine penis to slip the bonds of the furry sheath attached to his fur-covered stomach.
He paced the length of the fence, odors of simmering stew banished in his quest for the source of the new scent. In his haste to get inside with his groceries, Xander had failed to secure the rickety gate. Frank pushed at the gate with his muscular shoulders and blocky head, swinging it open. The human part of his brain, no longer completely in charge, debated the wisdom of leaving the yard. Canine instincts won out, and he walked out the gate with nary a lingering look or thought other than the overwhelming need to trace the scent to its source.
If he had stayed in the yard, he might have borne distressing witness as Xander, content to let his dinner simmer for a long time on the stove, stole back into the living room and without a lot of foreplay began giving his man — Rex in Frank's body — a pre-dinner blow job, freeing his man's hard, aching cock for some deep-throat action. The coincidental timing meant the minds of both man and dog synched together in a very primal fashion. Instincts prevailed.
Instinct drove Frank to walk the block, coming to a stop outside a chain link fence around another duplex not all that different from his own. He sniffed the air again. She was close. At some point, his quarry had become a she. He simply knew that the scent came from a female, a canine female. As he whined and worried with the chain link barrier, she made her appearance. A mixed breed female dog, large but not bulky and strong like Frank's canine form, bounded over to the edge of the fence. The two dogs sniffed noses, but then she turned obligingly. Frank sniffed her butt and, like a powerful slap, the pheromones of a bitch in heat crashed through all his mental barricades and took absolute control of his thoughts and actions.
He explored the barrier of the chain link fence, searching for a way into the strange yard. He felt like he would go crazy or have a heart attack if he didn't get inside the yard. He felt like he could dig a huge hole in the ground and burrow into the yard if it meant he could get to her.