Alternate Universe
Acknowledgments: A big hug and thank you out to my beta, Mady Bay, and to Kris for being a great sounding board. Guest appearance by Rita, she knows why!
Background Notes: This A/U idea came into my head the other day, when I saw my Golden, Kirby, and my aunt's yellow Labrador, Marley, playing together. I looked at they way they roughhoused together, and I thought, “They could be Vin and Chris.” My Kirby is quite the alpha dog. <g> This led my mind to thinking which breed exemplifies each of the guys, if they had one. This thinking lead me to one of my favorite televised events, the Westminster Kennel Club dog show. If you don't know it, the WKC show is the pre-eminent breed dog competition in the country. Roger Caras had to have a part in the story, because his voice makes half the show. You can't help but love dogs when you hear him speaking of the virtues of the different breeds before their introduction. Anyway, on with the show.
Italics indicate Roger Caras speaking, the Voice of the Westminster Kennel Club. To be accurate, I have researched a lot of the descriptions he uses from the WKC web site, but tweaked them a little to conform to the guys.
ONE
I expected trouble today. That was no surprise. The surprise was that it was coming from Nathan, and not Buck. Not that Nathan had started the trouble. Good thing that longhaired guy and I were there to finish it.Here comes Buck now, wearing a T-shirt that says, 'I Love Everybody. And You're Next.' Leave it to good ol' Buck to show up at Westminster wearing a T-shirt. That's my pard. Hopefully he had gotten a handler that could handle Duster. I was trusting Buck to get someone who could handle breed competition. That means someone with showmanship, personable but kind of a trickster. Able to keep your attention directed at the dog.
That's why I don't do it. I love obedience shows, but I hate showing in breed, it's a vicious sport. My old friend, Mary, had gotten Duster to Best of Breed, but now she's home sick with food poisoning. So I needed Buck's help. I used to show in obedience myself. Sarah had always done the breed showing. Now I don't even show in obedience.
Duster just wasn't the same since Sarah died. I tried to put him on a long down twice today. I should be able to give the down command, walk away and come back to find him in the same position. But he's up after just a few minutes, turning his head like he's looking for someone. He's not really disobedient, just sullen and stubborn. Don't know where he gets it.
"Where is this handler you're getting me, Buck?" I tried not to sound irritated. From the look on Buck's face I wasn't doing a very good job. My mood couldn't be helped. Duster was antsy and obviously wouldn't be capable of a long down today. I was thinking of pulling him from the breed showing altogether.
"Ezra will be along directly, he's in ring two now, with the hounds. He's handling his own dog as well, ya know. Wait 'til ya meet him, Chris. He's a *very* interesting man, very well spoken, knows several languages, got the most gorgeous green eyes...." Buck waggled his eyebrows.
"Are you shitting me? Tell me you are shitting me. You were supposed to find me a handler for Duster, not for me." It took everything I had to keep my voice down, though not many would have noticed with the cacophony of sound all around me.
"When did you start trying to fix me up with guys anyway? I've been married, ya know," I say, flashing my wedding ring.
Buck looks askance at the ring. I know he thinks I should take it off, but he knows better than to say so. He quickly flashes me a grin. "Now pard, I happen to *know* you've sowed your oats on both sides of the fence."
"Whatever," I growl.
"You don't have to go out with him. Just meet him. You really should start going out again, meeting new people. He is an expert handler. As a matter of fact, Rita Clark has asked him to show her Lhasa in breed."
"If he is so great, why isn't he handling you?" I asked, causing Buck to waggle his eyebrows again. I wonder if he even realizes he does that. I think it has become a Pavlovian response that the merest innuendo sets Buck's eyebrows in motion.
"You know what I mean. You do have an entry don't you? Or did you just come here to harass me."
"I'm training my new young protégé, JD Dunne." This statement came with more eyebrow wiggling, not surprisingly. I had a fair idea what it meant to be Buck's 'protégé.' "Here comes the kid now."
I turned to see an eager young pup come bounding over. Buck started to introduce me. "JD, come 'ere. This here is…"
"Chris Larabee! Of course, I know you! You're famous! You used to have Goldens, right? Your dog would always take best in obedience."
I glared at Buck. "Have you seen Josiah?," I said, trying for a change of subject. "I've got to tell him what happened to Nathan."
"He's over at ring one I think," Buck replied. "Why, what happened to Nathan? He all right?" Nathan was a great veterinarian. We all used him.
"He's fine, but there was a dust-up with some crazy punks who were looking for trouble outside." I didn't have to tell Buck that the large crowds attracted to the Show attracted some pretty nasty people lurking around trying to pick easy money off out-of-towners.
"Seems some of them took a dislike to Nathan on sight. I saw him across the parking lot, headed into the south alley that leads to the back entrance, then see three punks follow him in. Looked like skin heads, so it might have been a racial thing, I don't know. They had knocked Nathan to the ground already when I turned the corner to see what was going on"
"You take on three guys yourselves?"
"Actually, it was the strangest thing. This long-haired cowboy looking guy comes out of nowhere as I am heading down the alley to help Nathan. He had on jeans and a scruffy hat, so who knew what side he'd be on in a fight. But he just looked at me for a second, and I knew he was on my side. The two of us cleaned those assholes' clocks," I said with just a touch of pride. No one messes with friends of mine. I had my fill lately of feeling things were out of my control and busting some bigoted heads had set just fine with me.
"Who is this guy? I want to shake his hand."
I wonder if that's all you want. I shrug and reply, "Just know his name. Vin Tanner. When the fight was over, he's helping Nathan to his feet and I turn to thank him and that's all he says before takes off. He left so quick you'd think he was wanted for murder."
Actually that wasn't all he said, but I wasn't going to tell Buck that. "Nice pants," he'd said with a mischievous gleam in his eye before he sprinted off. I half wondered if someone was filming a Dockers commercial.
I try to pull my black sweater down a little. Nothing doing. I'm a little self conscious about these pants. I've been doing my own laundry for three years now since Sarah died, and I still manage to shrink my pants all the time. These are the last black ones I can still get on, but they sure don't leave much to the imagination. Made me wonder what Tanner meant by that comment.
"Stop pulling on that sweater. Those pants look real good on ya." More eyebrow wiggling. I wonder if Buck is somehow sneaking into my house and sabotaging my laundry. I wouldn't put it past him, he's tricky.
"Come on, let's find Josiah." We head over to ring one, where the Working group has already gone through half of the line-up.
TWO
When we found Josiah, and I told him that Nathan had gotten a minor bump on the head, he seemed relieved to know what happened and upset at the same time. Nathan was a really good vet, but I was starting to wonder about those two."See ya later, Josiah. I'm sure Nathan is fine." Buck wanted to get back to ring two where JD was getting their Ridgeback ready to show in the hound group, so we headed back that way.
"Look there's Ezra now, with the Af," Buck said just as we got to the ring where all the Best of breeds for the Hound group were lined up to see who would capture Best of Group
The three of us turned to look across ring two, just as Caras started the announcement for the Af.
The Afghan hound is an aristocrat, his whole appearance aloof and dignified, yet gay with no trace of plainness or coarseness. He has a straight front, proudly carried head, eyes gazing into the distance as if in memory of ages past. The striking characteristics of the exotic, or "Southern"- expression, long silky topcoat, large feet and the impression of a somewhat exaggerated bend in the stifle due to profuse trouserings - stand out clearly, giving the Afghan Hound the appearance of what he is, a king of dogs, that has held true to tradition throughout the ages. Ladies and Gentleman, presenting Afghan Hound, Elegant GamblerA handsome young man in a muted emerald jacket was keeping just the right pace, next to a beautiful Afghan Hound. He had a wonderful long legged stride, gleaming chestnut hair and a proud head. The Afghan wasn't shabby either.
"Your Ridgeback has some real competition. I wouldn't count on Best Hound this year, Buck." I laughed, enjoying the opportunity to needle him for a change.
"Oh, Ezra is good, but wait 'til you see JD in the ring. Your turn coming up, Kid. Show my baby off." I wasn't sure if he was talking about the Ridgeback or his 'protégé.' "Don't loosen your lead, boy, or ya let him get away from ya."
A mature Rhodesian Ridgeback is a handsome, upstanding and athletic dog, great endurance with a fair amount of speed. The Ridgeback is of even temperament, devoted and affectionate to his master. They are rarely quarrelsome, unless provoked. The breed is also known as the lion hound, originally bred in South Africa to hunt lions. Ladies and Gentlemen, presenting Rhodesian Ridgeback, Scoundrel's Grin.JD, while obviously a novice, was putting a lot of energy into his presentation. The kid was having no problems keeping up with Buck's quite muscular dog and giving him only a short leash without difficulty or strain. I had to admit, the kid had the touch.
"You did real good, kid."
"Thanks, Mr. Larabee!" the kid flashed a winning smile.
"Yes, it's always more challenging to have spirited competition" stated a honeyed drawl that suddenly appeared behind me. "I can see the makings of a real showman, rough though you may be. I hardly think the outcome is in doubt," Ezra said with a smile to soften the words.
The kid bristled, but I could see he was charmed as well. I could see already this one knew he was a southern charmer, and how to lay it on thick.
"Rough? I can clip, I can groom, I can show...."
"Can you fly too?" smirked the southerner.
"Oh, there are lots of things I can do." JD said, with a flash of that smile again.
"I don't doubt it. There is a wealth of experience to be learned at Mr. Wilmington's knee. Many have matriculated there."
"Now Ezra, you're here to help my friend Chris here. Not to harass my protégé." Buck shot Ezra a dirty look.
Then the southern charmer turned his head and his attempts at me. "I look forward to having the opportunity to assist you, Mr. Larabee, in *any* capacity I can."
"Just need a handler for the Working group comp, right now. But I'll let you know," I added, getting a gold toothed grin in response.
JD may have enthusiasm but it could not overtake Ezra's experience or the Afghan's bright eyes and gleaming coat. Elegant Gambler took the Hound group.
Buck took a dejected JD back to the concession stand to ease the disappointment, after letting me know that they'd catch up with Ezra and I at ring one for the Working group competition.
Now it was our turn. Caras started the announcement for Rottweiler.
The Rottweiler, for those only familiar with it's shady reputation, may be considered a bad element. Nothing could be further from the truth. The Rottweiler is a confident, powerful and courageous dog with a self-assured aloofness that does not lend itself to immediate and indiscriminate friendships. The ideal Rottweiler is all in black with clearly defined rust markings. He has a inherent desire to protect home and family and is an intelligent dog of extreme hardness, intelligence and adaptability. The behavior of the Rottweiler in the show ring should be controlled and willing, trained to submit to examination of mouth, testicles, etc. An aloof or reserved dog should not be penalized, as this reflects the accepted character of the breed. An aggressive or belligerent attitude toward other dogs should not be faulted. Ladies and Gentleman, presenting Rottweiler, Black Duster.I handed Duster's lead to Ezra, and they both sprinted at a brisk, yet dignified pace to the judge's stand. I had no doubts about Duster's conformation, he had excellent head, and a nice long stride. Ezra was certainly no slouch, either. I watched that man move, sinewy as his own Afghan but easily matched to the Rottie's pace, and thought again about what Buck had said. Maybe it was time to meet someone new.
"Moves awful graceful, don't he?" drawled a soft voice at my ear.
I spun around. "Hey, cowboy! Where'd you come from?" I had a grin on my face before I even realized it. The man moves like a cat, how does he do that in those boots?
"Right here. That's my Golden," he said, nodding back towards ring two and the Sporting group setting up, where a muscular Native American man in a tight tan crew neck was brushing the feathers of an incredibly beautiful Golden Retriever.
"Chanu's grooming him now. Looks like were in competition," he said with that mischievous gleam back in his eye. I was looking from Chanu to Tanner and back, my mind occupied with thoughts of cowboys and indians.
I wasn't hiding my surprise very well. "I haven't seen you at the Show before," I said by way of apology.
"First time here. Come all the way from Texas," he replied with a grin.
Just as I'm about to ask what his plans after the Show are, Ezra and Duster came back from touring the ring, and Buck arrived a second later. He looked at us expectantly. Like I was gonna kiss Ezra right there or something. The grin faded from the cowboy's face. I missed it and wanted it back.
"I would say that your exceptional canine has the Working group subjugated handily," Ezra announced proudly. "Of course good breeding always presents excellent specimens," he said as he looked me up and down. Then he noticed how close Tanner was standing next to me. "Am I interrupting something?"
"Nope. I'll be on my way," the cowboy said with a nod.
"Wait. Vin, wait up." I called after him leaving Ezra standing at the podium.
I had to trot to catch up with him. He sure does have long legs.
"Tanner, hold up will ya? I wanted to…" What the hell did I want? Tanner's arched eyebrow conveyed that he was wondering the same thing. Then he let me off the hook.
"Listen cowboy, we'll talk after the Show, OK?"
I don't know why I was grinning so much, but I couldn't seem to stop. "Sure, sure that sounds good."
Buck's protégé was just coming back from the concession stand with mustard covered hot pretzels and had heard the whole thing with big eyes.
"JD, did he just call me a cowboy?"
"Yes sir, Mr. Larabee, I think he did."
We trotted back to ring one to see Ezra and Duster lose the Working group to Raphael Martinez's Akita. Ezra seemed to take the loss as a personal affront. At least I think that's the word he used. I knew Duster's heart just wasn't in it though. As disappointed as I was for Duster, I found I was looking forward to the Sporting Group competition more than I had in a some time.
THREE
The Texan and his Golden were up next in the Sporting group. I couldn't help staring across the ring as Caras started his next announcement.
The Golden Retriever is a powerful, active dog, sound and well put together, displaying a kindly, intelligent expression and possessing a personality that is alert and self-confident. Primarily a hunting dog, he should be shown in hard working condition. The outdoors give the Golden an opportunity to show off his incredible tracking ability. Goldens are bred for game retrieval, and so have very soft mouths. Eyes should be medium large, friendly and intelligent. Hindquarters should be strongly muscled. They need plenty of exercise daily, and don't adapt well to close environments. Ladies and Gentlemen, presenting the Golden Retriever, Tascosa Tracker.
Thoughts of soft mouths and strongly muscled hindquarters filled my head as the Texan promenaded his Golden around the ring. Vin showed Tracker on a loose lead so the judges could see his true gait. I was impressed. So were the judges and the Texan and his Tracker won the Sporting group with no serious competition.
It seemed to take no time at all for the center ring to be transformed for the last competition of the night, as the winners of each group stepped up to compete for the coveted Best of Show title.
Ezra brought his Afghan out to the center of the ring, with the Texan's Golden, Martinez's Akita and four others for the final judging. Ezra was using all the showmanship skills he had, but Vin sure looked good. Damn good. On the sidelines, Duster was acting strange though. He wasn't very sociable, usually ignored the other dogs. But he was straining at his lead. It looked like he was trying to get a good look at the Golden. He was starting to be a strange dog.
Ezra's mastery of the ring was evident as Elegant Gambler took Best of Show, with Tascosa Tracker coming in second.
"Well, can I pick a winner, or what? Huh, Chris?" Buck was expecting congratulations for the introduction, but I had other things on my mind. A diversion was needed.
"Your protégé sure seems to think so," I replied, trying to hide a smirk as Buck's head whipped around to see JD pressing in close to talk with the charmer as the crowd circled the day's big winner. I wondered if JD shopping for a new mentor. Or if he had told Ezra that terrible joke about the three legged dog. Not funny here, that's for sure.
"Aw Hell." Buck grumbled, as he stomped off to keep Southern poachers from his territory.
Duster and I went over to the Texan to see how he was taking coming so close to Best of Show at his first time here.
"Hey there, Cowboy," the Texan drawled in that incredible voice. I was grinning again.
"Hey yourself. You did real well for your first show. You should be proud of yourself, and your Golden."
"Thanks pard. I thought your Rottie was gonna take the Workin' group. He looks good, real good." There was that mischievous little grin again, like a promise of mischief and fun in just a little twist of the lip. Was it a soft mouth? Seemed real important to know all of a sudden.
"He just ain't himself lately," I confessed with a sigh. "I don't know what's wrong with him. It's like he's always looking for something I don't have. I don't know what he needs."
"Maybe you don't, but Tracker seems to have a good idea."
"Your dog has a good idea?" I asked, quirking an eyebrow in confusion.
"Well, getting your ashes hauled is always a good idea in my book," he laughed, this time with an even bigger grin.
I turned to see Tanner's Golden mounting my Rottie. Duster is usually not pleasant with other dogs, either ignoring those beneath his notice or teeth bared and snapping at those that get in his face. But he was tolerating the Golden's ardent actions. I think he was even smiling! "Hey, Duster is a male dog," I huffed, but with no conviction in my voice. He sure seemed to be enjoying himself though. I was getting some good ideas myself.
"Neither of 'em seem to mind," replied the Texan in that so soft drawl. "Seems wrong to holler at 'em jus' for doing what comes natural to 'em. How about you, Cowboy? You got any good ideas?"
This cowboy is a mind reader. "Yeah. You and me. My place. Now. Doing what comes natural."
Silence. Just long enough to let me sweat a little.
"Well, since you asked so purty like," the Texan said with his biggest grin yet, that found a twin on my face.
FOUR
I had just barely closed the front door, when I turned to my new cowboy friend and put him in an all-out liplock. He did have a soft mouth. The hard length of his cock pressed up against me. I wanted him so much, I was shaking.“Feelin’ a mite anxious? Let me see iffen I can take the edge off fer ya,” he drawled, all the while stroking my hardness through these damn too tight pants. “Let's peel these off ya.”
He sank to his knees in front of me and pushed my shirt up to lick at my belly button as he tugged at my jeans. He pulled them down to my ankles and blew hot breath across the top of my staining erection. He sucked me into that sweet, hot mouth and my knees buckled.
He worked my cock like a Yorkie with a bone, sucking and licking, and pulling deep down his throat. My spunk had been churning hot and heavy, down low in my balls on the whole ride over to my place, and I couldn't hold back. I could see he sensed my urgency as those liquid blue eyes looked up at me. I had wanted this to last, but it felt so good, been so long. I came with an anguished cry, trying at least not to thrust and choke this cowboy who was showing me such a good time.
“Sorry, Cowboy, I wanted this to last,” I stammered.
“Aw Hell. That just took the edge off. Now we can take our sweet time and maybe find a bed to do it in.” There was that mischievous little grin again.
I planted another wet kiss on those beautiful sensuous lips in gratitude, as I dragged him to the bedroom, leaving my pants behind in a heap on the floor. I could feel his eyes on my ass as we entered the bedroom.
Once we were there, the rest of the clothes dropped in a hurry. I sucked in a breath when I saw the heft and length of his cock. Those skinny guys can really surprise you sometimes.
“Whoa,” I breathed, wondering how I was gonna handle a jawbreaker like that one. He pulled me into his arms, and kissed my thoroughly, and all other thoughts left my mind.
“I want you so much." Vin's blue eyes burned the intensity of his desire into my own.
“How do you want to do this?” I managed to stammer.
“Doggie style, a’course. Up on yer knees there, cowboy.” His hands glided over me like I was the top dog. “Nice flanks here,” he breathed as his long fingers glided over the outside of my thighs, just over the little hairs and causing me to shiver again. Shivers turned to moans, as his long skilled fingers found their way to my ass. I was a little tight at first, it had been a while after all, but he slowly stretched me until two of his fingers slid easily in and out of me. My cock throbbed at each upstroke as he brushed softly over my prostate.
“Don't make me wait anymore, Cowboy. Need ya now,” I groaned.
“Just relax, Pard. We got all the time in the world. Gonna make it real good for ya,” he whispered in my ear, causing goose flesh to break out all over my arms.
Relax he says. How am I supposed to relax when his long strong fingers are doing there level best to drive me right out of my mind. The small part of my mind still working worried about the pain. His cock was so damn big! It had to hurt, didn't it?
He must have noticed the goose bumps, as he started to rub slowly up and down my arms, caressing the muscle and setting my flesh at ease again. He leaned down to kiss the back of my neck, and I arched up to rub more of myself against him. I couldn't get enough. I released a breath I didn't know I was holding and melted into him as his lightly furred chest glided sensuously across my back.
As the head of his cock penetrated me, the ring of muscle snapped around the head and he held it there, giving me time to adjust. I don't know if I would have had that much control and I wiggled my butt to signal I could take more.
“Yeah, wag that tail,” he growled. I could really learn to love that voice.
I could feel his pulse inside me, like a heartbeat. My own heart was racing as sensation coursed through my body. He reached around to grasp my cock, sinking more of himself into me. As he slowly filled me and nudged my prostate, pre-cum started to flow from my cock like he'd tapped a maple.
He rubbed the juice around the head of my dick and I started to pant like a Newfoundland after a long run. “More,” was all I could gasp out between panting breaths. I was sure getting more. His dick seemed to go on forever until I felt his balls settle in against mine. He had some real low-hangers.
My ass was on fire, and he reared back and started to really ream me. Every powerful thrust of his sizable meat was sending shock waves up my spine to my brain, where they ricocheted right back down to my cock. I squeezed my groin muscles to hold back another orgasm, and received a happy answering groan behind me. He nuzzled into my neck.
“You are so hot, I could eat ya rite up”
I could feel him trembling against me as he tried hard not to empty his load, to keep fucking me all night. His hands slid up my arms and grasped my biceps, kneading the taut muscles there. Then he yanked back, arching my back and driving even deeper inside me. Even with the release in the hallway, I struggled to rein in the impulse, digging my nails into my palm to hold off. The intense rush of being taken so completely made me groan through clenched teeth.
"Am I hurtin' ya?" Vin asked, slowing his motion, but still burying the bone to the hilt.
I gasped for air, just enough to sat two words. "Don't stop!" The heat I felt in my ass now radiated throughout my body, like rays of the sun. I couldn't hold back anymore. My legs went rigid, whole body began to spasm as I started to cum. Vin's hand was stroking my cock and I was sure he would be scalded by the molten flame shooting from my pulsating dick.
My orgasm sent Vin over the edge, as he spent himself with one more powerful thrust. I could feel him unload his hot seed deep, deep inside me as his teeth latched onto my shoulder like a Pitbull with a T-bone. I felt no pain at all.
We rolled back on the sheets, wet with sweat and breathing heavy. When his deflating cock slipped from me, I felt empty but not alone, as he wrapped his lean muscled arms around me. His intense eyes, so like a Goldens, stared a silent question at me as I let out a big sigh.
"I can't believe that this morning.... I wouldn't have bother getting up on a Saturday if Buck hadn't talking me into going to the Show.... I was feeling like a lost stray for so long."
"And how you feeling now, Cowboy?" Vin asked, with another devilish grin on his lips, knowing he was responsible for the change.
I leaned over to kiss him again and replied, "Oh, I am a Lucky Dog!"
THE END
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