Alan casts a side long look to his pack brothers then pads over to join his bitch friend. Stacy this is so weird as we could have never been together like this outside a muck. But aloud he is more round about in approach. “Stacy do you …” Alan pauses pondering his words carefully. “Well what I mean to say is…” His scent mixed of nervousness and fear of rejection. Eyes upon hers Alan finds himself losing his train of though.
The bitch leans close and gives the male’s muzzle a quick encouraging lick of affection. “Yes I do Alan. You are and will always be you.” But what to do with the other two males the female wonders even as the feel of licks under her muzzle brings her attention back to the male canine before her. “Heel boy.” She whispers. Then aloud. “So Mitch and Dale will you two drink my potion? Alan here has decided he can wing it.”
Alan never taking his eyes from Stacy simply wags his tail not seeming to even notice or be bothered by the red tip of his canine penis peeking from his sheath.