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You’re messing around on your laptop when he returns to the living room, playing some computer game which eats away hours of your time without you even realising it. Your attention always falls to him one-hundred percent whenever he walks through a door, though. That’s just what your puppy does to you. You wouldn’t want to look anywhere else; he’s as much the light of your life as you are his.

Copia has just got out of the bathroom and his hair and ears are still a little wet. It’s cute, the way you can see him physically restraining himself from trying to shake the water off and accidentally soaking you - you’ve had to ask him not to do that before, and procure a towel instead.

“Hey handsome. Feel better?” you ask, and there’s no denying the way he lights up under that praise. A morning out with Marie and Tobias ended with his friend convincing him to cross a muddy field to investigate some sheep, and he’d been dying to jump into the shower when he returned. 

“Yes, sì, thank you. I… eh… I wanted to ask you something.”

He’s twisting something between his hands. You put your laptop to the side and turn to face him.

“What’s up, Copia?”

“I, eh, I was going to ask if you could buy something for me?”

Many puppyboys have jobs. They tend to thrive in customer-facing roles because of their natural affinity towards socialisation, but you made it clear to Copia you would look after him, and that included financially. He has access to your credit card but this must be a specific kind of purchase if he wants to run it by your first.

“What do you need?”

You can see the red creeping up from beneath his shirt collar, advancing across his neck and face as he hands you what he’s been fidgeting with. It’s a torn-out page from a magazine and something has been circled on it.

It’s a glossy sheet full of sex toys, all specifically for puppyboys. The one he’s circled is a cocksleeve and your eyebrows raise when you read that it’s specifically designed for taking someone’s knot knot.

“You’re knotting?” you ask, softly. Copia looks like he’s about to implode with embarrassment so you offer him your hand. He takes it and you gently guide him to sit on the sofa. There’s nothing he ever needs to hide or feel ashamed about, not from you.

“I can feel it coming… ever since we first, eh, well… it’s triggered something in me, you know? I’m sure it’s going to happen and soon. I’m so sorry, tesoro, I thought I grew out of this,” he groans. You nod, comfortingly. Typically knotting is experienced in younger puppyboys, horny and in heat and desperate to plug their cum into something. As they grow up and mature it usually stops being an issue.

“Is it because you…?”

“Because I was inside you? Probably. I think it set something off,” he mutters. You embrace him and bring him into your arms, stroking his hair in a way which makes his tail begin to wag.

“I’ll buy you the toy, of course, but baby, you know I’m happy for you to knot me, right?”

He peers up at you, cautious.

“You’re sure? It can be… intense. Not all humans like it.”

“I’d like to try, maybe I will. Plus I like being close to you, puppy.”

He surges up to meet your lips, and the two of you make out on the couch for an embarrassingly long amount of time.

The next day you make sure to prep yourself in the morning, make sure you’re stretched out and prepared. You thoroughly coat a toy in lube and press it inside yourself, shifting this way and that until it sits snugly, and go about your day. When you start breakfast Copia plods in, drawn in by the sizzling of bacon, and his eyes go wide as he scents the air. 

“You okay, honey?”

“You… I can smell… you’re… there’s something inside you, isn’t there?” he practically moans, eyes huge and needy. Fuck, if that doesn’t send a pang to where the toy’s seated. 

“Do you need to knot now, baby?”

Copia shakes his head but bites his lip.

“No, not yet, amore mio. It hasn’t, eh, inflated. Th-thank you for asking though.”

You serve up his breakfast and watch him squirm in his seat at how uncomfortable his arousal is making him, poor little thing. You don’t want to rush him though. Instead you kiss him goodbye for the morning and head to your home office, knowing you have a meeting that you need to attend. 

It’s so fun being on a video call where none of the participants have any idea you’re so lubed up that it’s leaking through your underwear. As you discuss finance figures and strategies for the next quarter, your mind flits to Copia outside, and you hope he’s doing okay. It must not be a nice feeling, to have his cock doing something so unexpected. You want to take care of him in every way you can. 

Your question is answered when you break for lunch. You find him sitting on the sofa, desperately trying to push down his erection, like if he can will it to go away then it might obey. It’s soaked a wet patch in the front of his sweats and he looks on the verge of tears.

“Oh, Copia, baby…”

“Didn’t wanna disturb you,” he chokes, clutching the base of his cock through fabric, and you can see the outline of the swelling at his base. You swallow hard. “I’m sorry, I didn’t know what to do…”

“Okay, no more of this. Do you want some relief, puppy?”

He nods so hard his ears flap.

“Good boys use their words, Copia.”

“Yes, please, wanna feel relief, wanna put my knot in you, promise it’ll be so good, I’ll be so good amore mio, per favore…”

You don’t even bother to leave the living room. You just pull your slacks off and climb on top of him. The moment that you start grinding Copia loses it, words failing his desperate tongue as he’s reduced to barks and whines. You pull down his waistband and watch his fat cock spring free, the inflation looking almost painful. It throbs along with his heartbeat, tip oozing precum in a way which looks just delicious.

“Need to be inside me?”

“Cazzo, yes, I’ll make you feel so good…”

You pull the toy out of yourself with a loud, wet noise and Copia whines, brushing his head up against your slick, welcoming entrance. It’s so easy to just slip down on him and take it all, and he throws back his head and howls and the warmth he feels envelop his cock.

You ride him hard. He deserves to know how loved he is, how his pleasure isn’t something to be ashamed of. Your eyes go wide when his hands alight on your hips and he begins to buck up in time with your rhythm, as if subconsciously seeking out a place he trusts to bury himself so intimately.

“Please, please,” he begs, staring up at you with those eyes, those eyes which have bewitched you. Ah. He needs permission.

“You can knot me, good boy,” you hum, and he tugs you down so he can hold you close as his knot pops inside you.

It’s an odd feeling, a swelling catching at your entrance and then bullying its way deep, but it’s really hot. You can see how some people might find it overwhelming - the way he cums so hard and it keeps going, more than he’s ever shot out before, and you can feel it fill you up a dizzying amount. That alone is enough to drag you over the edge with him, and you spasm around his knot which only makes his own orgasm last longer.

Copia buries his face into you, reduced to a simple mantra as he feebly thrusts his knot ever so slightly deeper, instinctually.

“Thank you… grazie… amore mio… thank you…”

You twirl his hair around your fingers.