The sun streams in, rousing a hung, horny hound from his slumber. Still in his puppy-play underwear, he grips his massive morning wood, stroking it to life. His eyes flutter closed as he imagines his favorite pup play partner, his hand a poor substitute for the real thing. The room fills with his ragged breaths and the wet sounds of his palm sliding up and down his throbbing shaft. He picks up the pace, his body tense, muscles flexing, until with a final, guttural groan, he spills his thick, creamy load all over his furry belly.