The Werewolf Order (Erotica)

“He has the biggest penis I’ve ever had sex with.” And only thirteen in werewolf years, I thought to myself. “I suppose I should tell you, he has a very sensitive nose and can smell a woman’s arousal. He sometimes gets an erection as a result.”

“He doesn’t need to like, take care of it, if he does get an erection, does he?”

“No. He just suffers through it. But it is prominent, so I thought I should warn you.”

“And you say you enjoy sex with both of them?”

“Best sex I’ve ever had. Brigitte can lick a vajayjay like nobody’s business. Last night, I had sex with both of them at the same time, Brigitte licking me while Conor did his thing. Mom, you can’t believe how good that feels.”

“Oh, my!”

“Yes, indeed. Oh my God, it was heavenly.”

“I’m surprised that Brigitte doesn’t shave, or at least trim, you know, her pubic region and underarms.”

Brigitte had explained that little conundrum to me. If she did shave or trim, as soon as she shifted to a wolf and back, the hair was back. It was related to their body’s ability to repair itself. It was kind of pointless to do it if you were shifting frequently. I’d never seen her go a day without shifting at some point.

“I don’t know if it’s religious, or cultural, but no, she doesn’t shave.”

“Religious?”

“You know, like Samson couldn’t cut his hair, or he lost the strength God gave him.”

“They both look so healthy.”

“They are, except for the fertility thing. Brigitte told me she’s never been sick a day in her life. I’m going to bring some glasses out. Do you want to open a bottle of wine, or drink something else?”

“We’ve got a nice red, so wine sounds good.”

I got five wine glasses and added five water goblets and put out a pitcher of ice water. Dad already had the two rare steaks on the plate, while he finished ours. I brought the bottle of wine out with a corkscrew and asked Conor to open it up and let it breathe.

Mom came out carrying the salad, while I went back inside for the condiments: butter, sour cream, bacon bits and chives, salt and pepper, ketchup and A1 sauce, with a couple different salad dressings.

It was a round table and Mom and Dad sat together on one side. I was in between Brigitte, seated beside Mom, and Conor, seated beside Dad. I don’t know if Mom noticed, but Dad had a hard time not staring at Brigitte. Not that I blamed him. I tended to stare at both of them myself, but I did think it was a trifle rude to Mom. I, at least, was single. He was not.

Of course, the only reason she might not be staring at Conor, was his equipment was under the table. It did become noticeable enough that I kicked Dad under the table and pointed to my eyes when he turned to look at me. He grinned ruefully, and toned the staring down a bit.

The company was convivial, the food and wine good, the conversation pleasant. My parents asked enough questions, (the answers fudged due to their real ages), I learned more about my lovers, including who Conor’s father was, Rene, which surprised me, considering what Quinn had made him do. I guess lineage didn’t play into werewolf politics, and maybe, the fact Quinn had tried twice to become pack leader, made Rene’s son a more tempting target. It was something to think about.

As we cleaned up after supper, Brigitte asked if my parents minded if they went swimming.

“No, not at all,” Dad said. “Did you bring suits?”

“I neglected to mention you lived on a lake. Unfortunately, no swimsuits for them,” I said. “They didn’t bring that many clothes with them when they moved in with me. I brought mine. We’ll try to pick some up at Target the next couple of days, since we’ll have to go out anyway.”

“If it’s okay, we’ll just slip off our clothes,” Brigette said.

“They’ll be in the water anyway, Simon,” Mom said. “I don’t see the harm.”

Dad nodded and they both went down to the dock before stripping off their clothes. Both of my parents eyes were glued to them as they shed what little attire they had.Belonging to NôvelDrama.Org.

“I’ll go put my suit on and get towels,” I said, wondering if the wolves would just shake themselves off when they were finished if they didn’t’ have a towel.

Putting on my bikini, I grabbed three beach towels and went outside. Conor and Brigette were engaged in some serious horseplay (dogplay?) in the water. Conor was doing his best to fling Brigette into the air as high as he could, and that was pretty damn high, at least twice her height. Brigitte flung him skyward a couple times, and that was pretty high as well. It surprised Dad anyway, because Conor looked like an NFL linebacker. I took the towels and went down to the dock.

This time of year, it stayed twilight until nine in Wisconsin. Setting down the towels, I jumped in and between the two of them, they could launch me about eighteen feet in the air, or over three times my height. Having them both naked and close, and touching. I became aroused. (So what else is new.) I spent a little time kissing and fondling them under the water. Of course, us playing around had the expected effect on Conor, and when he climbed out of the water, his erection was front and center. Perhaps it was my imagination, but I could almost hear my mother gasp from fifty feet away.

They both dried off by the dock and put their underwear back on, but they were still damp enough, their clothes clung a little closer to their bodies, and Brigette’s became a little more transparent. Dad couldn’t stand up when we got close without being painfully obvious, and I whispered in Mom’s ear that staring was considered rude. She blushed and pulled her eyes off Conor’s erection with a concentrated effort.

Dad lit a fire in the firepit and we sat around talking some more. Around eleven, both Conor and Brigette alerted. I knew that meant a shifter might be nearby.

Brigitte said, “Could I ask you all to go inside the house at the moment. I just heard something that concerns me a little and I’d like to check it out. Conor go with them.”

Conor nodded. Dad tried to protest a little since this was his house and they were his guests. Conor and I shepherded them inside anyway.

“This is their job,” I said. “They’re used to this sort of thing.”

I’m sure that as soon as she was away from the light cast by the fire, Brigitte stripped off her underwear and shifted to a wolf, to put her nose to better use. Conor got one of the guns loaded with silver bullets and stood by the door. It looked kind of funny, him standing there in his underwear with his huge hard-on Mom was still drooling over a little.

In roughly fifteen minutes, Brigitte came sauntering up to the back door. Conor relaxed as soon as he saw her.

“It was nothing,” she said, “just a stray dog who smelled our steaks nosing around for scraps. No problemo. It’s kind of late and it was a long drive. We should probably be going to bed anyway.” She kissed Conor and whispered something in his ear.

“I’m kind of beat too,” I said. “Bed sounds mighty fine at the moment.”

“We’ll see you all in the morning then,” Dad said. “It’s kind of late for us, too.”

Not so late that all three of us didn’t hear them rutting in their bedroom. I guess they were just as aroused as we were. We were a little quieter in our rutting. The sex over, I asked if it was a shifter and not a stray dog.

“A wolf bitch, Dawn, who didn’t know we were coming, checking up on us. I told her we were calling Gerhard in the morning. She was a little surprised we were hanging out with humans, wanted to make sure we weren’t going to cause problems. I told her we were visiting our breeder’s parents.”

I snuggled between their two warm naked bodies and went to sleep.

******

When we got up, Mom and Dad were going at it again. I looked at my bedmates and laughed. The three of us went for a ten mile run in the morning and Conor and Brigette smelled three other shifters during our run, but apparently, the word had gotten around that we were okay, and no one approached us. After our shower, Brigitte put on a crop top tee and shorts, Conor a muscle shirt and baggy shorts, and I wore jeans and a tee. I’m sure their outfits were chosen for something easy to take off, or lose if they were torn in a shift. After breakfast, Brigitte went out to the dock for a little privacy and made the phone call to Gerhard.

She was given the time and place to meet, a remote address up US 47 near the ink spot on the road of McNaughton, near the Wisconsin River, and noon. It was at most, five miles out of town, so we didn’t have to leave until 11:40, which would be plenty of time to get there early to show respect.

Brigitte didn’t want to take me, but I insisted, both to learn more about wolf politics, and because we were here because of me. She finally gave in because I’m a stubborn bitch.

“Look, Rene called and set this thing up. I doubt they’ll kidnap me, as much as they might want to. If I’m going to be hanging around wolves for the next six or seven years, I need to know what makes you tick, so I don’t accidentally piss someone off. Are more wolves like Rene, or Quinn?”

“Rene.”

“Then it shouldn’t be an issue. I might reconsider if they were more like Quinn, but consider yourself stuck with me.”

The compound we ended up at was a lot like Rene’s, but for a smaller group of wolves, maybe twenty to thirty tops, but this wasn’t their main headquarters. We were there five minutes early and there were a dozen wolves there, half in human form, half in wolf. My wolves left their armament and their clothes in the Jeep as we got out.

Brigitte pointed out the wolf, Dawn, (now in human form) who’d visited last night, and I nodded to her in simple politeness. She smiled at me.

We went into the meeting hall and were introduced to Gerhard. He was a fine looking specimen of manhood, maybe not quite as muscular as Conor, gray hair, gray eyes. Both Brigitte and Conor shifted, and showed their bellies and bared their necks to our hosts. There were some assorted growls or other lupine speech, and as wolves, Conor ended up licking some alpha bitch, while Brigitte was mounted by three of the upper caste males, showing their dominance, including Gerhard, though none of them knotted, or climaxed inside of her. It was more a show of fucking, than an actual fucking. They all shifted back.