I cherish the soft times with you

by

Silverwolf ©



I cherish the soft times with you
Holding your paw in the park
Holding your body at night
Those wonder filled soft times with you

The park was filled with people, it being an exceptionally bright summer’s day. Boats of all description roared through the lakes clear liquid as children yelled and giggled in their confined antics at the waters shallow edge, and the tourist village felt its coffers happily fill. Folks of all description, rich and poor alike, crowded the small Victorian bandstand where the local symphony entertained a further understanding of Ireland, prompting the specialty shop owners to unburden their imported stock along the cobblestone sidewalks. At the far end of the park, just beyond the crowd though still reached loudly by the band, stood a fountain. Five ornate tiers of cement down which a thin sheen of water cascaded surrounded by a marble wall on three sides denoting the varied heroes of wars forgotten though better remembered that called this timeless hamlet home, it was not old as the shops and bandstand were. Here the youth, growing pains of the town, gathered. Here also there was entertainment, of sorts. Beneath the falling waters, spattered by its spray, an old soul canted around the fountain, his long forgotten jig followed and imitated by an even older looking dog. Both man and dog had once been white, though years and streets long ago disguised them with soot and sweat.

His old long coat, so out of place on such a hot day, flew behind him like the capes of the elves who invented the ancient dance his bowed legs fought to follow. The arthritic Shepard performed a halting spin, her tail fighting to keep time as the music lifted the the old mans feet, and neither seemed to notice the jeers of the ‘I’ll live forever” crowd. His crumpled hat lay on the hard concrete, upturned but empty after two wheeling jigs, but still he danced, his old friend and him.

On a bench a few yards away, holding my precious lady’s soft paw, I remembered an old song. Here before us danced ‘Mr. Bo jangles’ and his dog regardless what name they went by now, whether either even remembered such things as what their mothers called them in days gone by. Partners they surely were, in life and work, both barely surviving but staying together. As if sensing the comparison to us running through my mind, Tippy lifted her delicate nose for a tender kiss. Shy with her I could not be, and I passionately returned her gift for all who would stare to see. Hugging her tight to my side, I turned back to the hoofers by the fountain.

The music ended, the vaudevillian graciously bowed to the still mocking crowd, as the Shepard also by stretching one forepaw and folding the other bowed to him. The teenaged spectators spread away, to find more fun in age I supposed, leaving the old pair to the fountain. He returned the dog’s bright eyed smile and gently took her offered paw then as his angry back protested, stooped over the still empty fedora, and his eyes grew weary. Sitting roughly on the fountains edge, he glanced at Tippy and I, still embracing, and smiled again, tussling his dogs head as his other knarled hand pointed her toward us. She in turn barked a greeting that brought a smile to me.

They turned away, he tiredly gazing into the crowds and she settling stiffly at his feet, and I clumsily fumbled in my wallet ashamed that I’d not yet given them privacy from our eyes. Finding the right bill I whispered in Tippys little ear “Why don’t you go thank them for us Tip?”, and put the currency between her careful teeth. I kissed the top of her head and she leapt from the bench to make a hip swaying trot toward the fountain.

Ignoring the still empty hat, she approached the man without her usual fear of strangers, then, gracefully, she put her paw on his thin knee and with her tail swinging below her ass offered the money in her mouth. With the back of an age stained finger, he rubbed her little curly chest then carefully reached for the bill while whispering to her words lost to my ear. Hesitantly she reached and licked his wrinkled cheek before exchanging sniffs with his partner, who had reached to groom her side as the old man talked. His eyes never left her as she scurried back to me, nor did they rise to meet mine as she settled back on the bench. Again tussling the Shepard’s head, he stood, and they began slowly down the rough sidewalk, he stooped and she by his side. I pulled Tippy close, bowing my lips to her gentle head as the music again wafted along the water.

I miss the soft times with you
And remember them most in my cold existence

Silverwolf
I cherish the soft times with you
The delicate kiss of your paper tongue on my lips
That sends tingles along my jaw
And tremors through my heart
The wonderful soft times with you

There is a chill in the summer air this night, low temperature records being set across the state the TV tells me as I snuggle deeper beneath the heavy quilt I’d had stored for the season. I hear the pet door flapping and moments later Tippy leaps magnificently upon the bed. Wagging hello, she lies on my body, the thick quilt between us, and, legs spread to my hips, puts a paw to each side of my head, pushing the pillow in a light stretch. She stares down on me, and as I fill her melting brown eyes, slides her thin tongue along my lips. I slack my jaw slightly and she pushes her kiss deeper. Sucking, I hold her tongue then let it coil back to her slowly, only to take it again the same passion filled way. Her toes dig into the quilt with her effort as she makes our teeth meet and a wet leathery nose rubs hot breath across my cheek. Her tongue tickling my throat, I run my own softly along her dark lips and sharp teeth till finally, regrettably, she releases me to look smiling down on me while her tail beats the bedding.

I can feel her twitch on my nakedness even through the quilt as she lays accepting my hands caress of her face. She half rolls off my body to nose the top of the quilt away and burrow below the sheet. I laughingly fight to stay covered as she turns beneath the linen to finally settle her shoulder on my left bicep, head turned from me on the pillow. My captive arm strokes her silken side and leg, and invitingly, she raises her foot offering me more tender skin. My fingertips lightly dance along her tight stomach, erect nipples like speed bumps slowing my touch. She whimpers, softly. Sensations flow from my hand to my soul as I trace her plump sex, and I carefully probe deeper there between her loosened lips. Massaging her vagina slowly my finger becomes a piston in a slow moving fiery engine, and with a low moan her legs clasp my wrist in a steel grip as she reaches that often sought plateau of pleasure. She rolls on her back as I struggle with my right hand to turn out the light, and with a tender kiss as her throbbing flesh holds my hand still, we close our eyes to sleep.

I miss the soft times with you
And remember them most in my cold existence

Silverwolf
I cherish the soft times with you
Sharing mirth and meal
In the days dying splendor
The wonderful soft times with you


Tippy and I had just ended a 10 hour shift at work and were cruising toward the small city 12 miles away for dinner. Tippy had, of course eaten that day, but I was sure it would take little convincing to entice her to join me in a burger and fries, so I steered a course for the nearest “Wendy’s” restaurant where the burgers are at least real beef and freshly cooked. The parking lot was full when we arrived, but I parked at the shopping center next door and, clipping a lead to Tips harness, we walked across.

There was an outside eating area, another reason I liked this eatery, with tables easily viewed from the ordering counter inside the glass walled building, and to the leg of one I tied Tippy for her own safety before going in to order. As I stood waiting for a double cheese with the works and a single plain without, I kept my eyes on her, sitting on the bench with her own eyes on the door patiently awaiting her mate and her meal. When I walked out the door I noticed she had attracted a small crowd by the window. Taken by her exquisite beauty as was I at every glance, I’m sure.

I sat, facing her, with my back to the building and unwrapped the huge double cheeseburger; take a jackknife from the leather snap sheath on my belt to cut it in quarters. Arranging some fries with salt and ketchup beside it, I slid it under her wiggling nose, then unwrapped my own single burger and began to eat.

Her audience was both inside and out now, and giggling and whispers of “How cute!” were freely heard behind me as she carefully removed the top bun from each piece of her sandwich to lay it on the paper neatly. She began licking sauce from the uppermost layers of lettuce and onion; occasionally chewing the salad makings with delicate precision till she met with a slice of dill pickle. As if bitten by a bee, she shook her little nose then sneezed ferociously, her head pushed by the force of it directly into her burger! Mustard, ketchup and mayonnaise sauce dripped from her small features, and as I burst out laughing I heard it echoed by those behind us. Wagging her slim tail, she barked a laugh of her own then stretched her face toward the napkin I held out to clean her with. Standing her front paws on the table to reach farther, she fought away from the napkin to instead give me a sloppy wet kiss. Hearing more tittering from the crowd, I turned with a wink to show them my now ketchup covered cheek and chin. The laughter became an uproar and I turned back to return her kiss and finally clean her sweet face!

After first removing any other pickles, we finished our meal among the continued laughter and an occasional request to ‘pet’ my lover, which she graciously allowed. As we drove homeward, I again reached to kiss her, telling her how wonderful she was for me and how no other meal was more special than those she shared with me.

I miss the soft times with you
And remember them most in my cold existence

Silverwolf
I cherish the soft times with you
From our first hello to your last good bye
Lips and tongue tell a tale
Of love undying
The wonder filled soft times with you


Tippy lay weakly against my arm. A position in ten years held many times by her to bring us closer now seemed miles away. I hugged her little body tight to me and her head dropped to my chest where lay her single infant boy. Her own strength waning, she fed what she could spare to him to give life when hers was gone. My eyes soaked in every little detail of her, fearing forgetfulness after she left, and my mind wandered to the first day we met. Weak in body that day also, she fought still with a determination of mind when all said she had no chance. I saw the life burn brightly that day in her soft brown eyes, and with a hot kiss following those dark lights, she asked for just a small bit of help. So long ago, yet it seemed just yesterday! She helped me more, showing me the feeling and meaning of love when I’d given up on its existence in my soul.

There was no helping her now, just comforting and holding, and praying there was no pain. For her anyway. Still she helped me, turning from her child to gaze lovingly up at my sorrowed face. I begged god selfishly not to take her, then regretted my selfishness when I saw the weariness in her little face. She lay her head down, weightless on my chest, and for the first time since returning from the vet she slept.

I lifted the puppy, so tiny he fit in my palm, and kissed his still sightless head, then placed him gently between my side and her stomach. My hand felt her body for those shallow, shaky breaths that said “I’m still here”. As she still fought to live, I waited. Waited, I realized, for her to die and for my life to end. Selfish thoughts again, I cursed myself, but they still brought tears as we lay in our bed.

Her eyes opened, whether from need or the sound of my sobs, and as she softly licked her puppy I saw some of the old fire still burn. She trembled, her breath growing more ragged, and raised her wonderful face to mine. I leaned forward, accepting a light, barely noticeable kiss on my lips, lighting the fires of love as had her first. Her sepia eyes met mine with a sadness that sent shivers to the very center of my being. I’d never seen her sad, but be it for leaving him or me, sad she was now.

Another ragged breath, turning suddenly to a haggard gasp and my heart pounded as her head fell limp on my chest. “Tippy!” I screamed though having ‘prepared’ for this time all day. Panicking for myself, I tried to make her breath as I had years before, but her being had gone from the form. Cursing every god I knew, I raged silently for my loss and, that last kiss still burning on my lips, held her tight still un-accepting of her death.

I miss the soft times with you
But will miss them no longer while you remain in my heart.

Silverwolf



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