Shelter From the Storm

Thomas was comfortable in that dream state of sleep where one is only partially aware of their surroundings. Asleep enough to not really understand what was going on, but awake enough to understand that there was still a world around him, though the events of such made little sense to his sleep addled mind.

It had been an exhausting morning and part of the early afternoon, mowing the lawn and doing all the trim. Trish had also had him removing turf for her new flowerbeds beneath the windows of the their simple ranch-style home.

Though for some reason, he’d also had to dig and plant the flower to suit her tastes, adjusting where necessary under her careful supervision. Which somehow, under the logic of her reasoning, made them her flowerbeds that she had toiled upon. At least that’s what she’d told her friends on the phone when Thomas was dragging himself off to catch a nap to recover.

Though she had prepared one of his favorite sandwiches along with a cold beer for him when he got back to the house, ensuring he’d have a comfortable nap. Ham, turkey, pickles, mustard, and caramelized onions.

Thus it was that his mind registered the peal of thunder off in the distance. Though his brain noted the noise it did not immediately alert him to the situation it always caused.

Something crashing into his side roused him from his sleep, causing him to sit up in bed and throw a few wild swings of his fists. His mind was too bleary to comprehend what had happened until the thunder pealed again, sounding as if it had originated just outside the window.

Thomas heard the sound of pitiful whimpering accompanied by a constant trembling motion to his right, causing him to look down to the cowering form lying next to him.

Trish was lying huddled against his side, her eyes shut tightly in fear. Her black furred paws were pulled against her chest as were her knees. She must have been in the process of changing clothes, because she was clad only in one of his baggy t-shirts and a pair of blue-striped panties.

His heart strings fully tugged, Thomas reached over and pulled the whimpering Hellhound up onto his lap, setting her head against his shoulder. “Aw, poor girl. Ssh. Ssh. Ssh. The thunder can’t get you, love.” Humming as he began to gently rock her, sliding a hand up into her hair to gently rub her scalp.

Looking down at her dark face, Thomas could only smile despite her misery. He had come to love these tender moments of hers, during storms. The fact that the normally dominant hell-hound clinging to him so desperately caused him to inwardly melt at the sight. He loved when she held onto him as if he was the last thing holding her to the ground, like she would fly away if she let go of him.

“My poor girl.” Thomas softly cooed to her as his other hand gently stroked down over her soft back and over her hips down to her soft thigh. “I’ve got you. Hush, love.” He kissed he forehead as he continued to pet and rock her.

The thunder had steadily increased in its occurrence, causing his poor fluff ball to begin releasing distressed moues. Her hands had lifted to tangle themselves in his shirt, the claws at the end of her paws shredding the material in her panic.

Thomas had to suppress an involuntary shudder of delight as his hand slid up to began rubbing Trish’s ears. The fur being so soft and silky it made his whole hand feel delightful. His other hand and slipped down to her bottom and began to pat it gently, helping calm his poor wife.

Immediately, her tail began to slowly wag and she nuzzled her face into his shoulder. Though she still whimpered, it’s slightly less despite the continual peals of thunder shaking the house in their ferocity.

As he gave her the attention she needed Thomas began to tell her about his experience on their wedding day, once more. She loved the tale, and talking to her during the storm always helped.

Marrying a Hellhound was a different experience. Thankfully, he’d been an orphan as a child and his family hadn’t had to witness the vows and then the bedding on the spot—all her friends shouting out lewd suggestions to the young couple.

Looking down at her eyes that were now closed in contented peace rather than shut tightly with fear, Thomas could scarcely believe this wonderful creature was his wife. From the silky fur on her feet to the tips of her plush ears, he loved them and everything in between. She had dark skin with pouty lips that just begged to be kissed, so he would pause in his story now and then and plant a chaste smooch upon them, causing her to cease whimpering for a moment to sigh peacefully.

Thomas remembered being such a nervous wreck on that day that he’d stumbled nearly continuously over their vows, but she just smiled at him despite his tripping tongue. He could afford to be tender with her no matter what the circumstance.

Though she was now smiling contentedly as she nuzzled into his chest, Thomas continued pampering her with his hands and words. He went into great detail telling her how stricken with her he’d been since the first moment he’d seen her, and that the feeling hadn’t abated since that day. Of how seeing her face at the end of a poor day at work always brought him immense joy, making all of his problems and worries seem so distant and small.

Trish pinched him as he told her how he loved to watch her eat ice cream, and how she was always such a mess after she did. With chocolate covering her lips and chin, and her smile that made him feel ten years younger every time he saw it. He told her how light it made his heart to see something so lovely, just for him.

Thomas adjusted his position, laying back so that Trish was lying atop him with her ear to his chest as he continued telling her about all the things he loved about her. His back was still sore from the flowerbeds and lying flat back on the memory foam mattress felt wonderful. Almost a quarter as wonderful as the ball of warm fur curled atop him.

He’d been petting and speaking softly to her for more than two hours before the thunder abated, his wife having long ago fallen asleep on him. Thomas pulled a fleece blanket up over the two of them as he too began to drift off.

Trish’s leg began to kick as she quietly yipped in her sleep. “Stupid ball…”

Thomas smiled, fighting off sleep to marvel at his wonderful wife. Her ears, paws, tail, booty, trim waist, ample breasts, her cute dreamy smile, her thick luscious thighs…. She was perfect.

Trish continued to twitch happily in her sleep, though her yipping had ceased. She was smiling, her face lit in a content and…almost shy blush.

Thomas leaned closer to her moving lips to hear better, drawn in by her rare shy look.

“Nice husband…can’t wait to tell him we’re having puppies soon…”

46 votes, average: 4.78 out of 546 votes, average: 4.78 out of 546 votes, average: 4.78 out of 546 votes, average: 4.78 out of 546 votes, average: 4.78 out of 5 (46 votes, average: 4.78 out of 5)
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5 thoughts on “Shelter From the Storm

  1. This story makes me salty cuz I also had an idea for a story about a hellwan having trouble in a thunderstorm. Oh well, to the one who can bother to actually write something go the spoils.

  2. It’s good to read a story devoted to connubial bliss. The interaction of a husband devoted to his wife gives me warm fuzzies.
    5 stars- earned.

  3. Aww stories like this will be one of the primary suspects of me getting an early diabetes. Tender moments like these with hellhounds are just so precious to witness and feel.

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