The Werewolf Order (Erotica)

There was my wolf/boy, black with a lighter black stripe on his back. I got into position and I felt him lick me, tasting my arousal. Soon his paws were on either side of my chest. I wondered if he’d need help putting his cock inside of my pussy, but he had no problem finding it, and with a quick thrust, the head was seated inside of me. So, so good. Another thrust and more of him entered me and I moaned and spasmed, my first orgasm on wolf cock. As my pussy clutched, he gave two or three more thrusts until I felt his hairy haunches butt up against my ass. He was all the way inside of me, totally filling me, I thought. No.

His wolfie hips thrust two or three more times, trying to claim another millimeter of my pussy, then I felt his knot began to form.

“Oh, fuck,” I moaned. “His knot is forming.”

“What’s a knot?” Martin asked.

“Brigitte, Eric, explain knots to Martin,” I moaned.

Oh, my fucking God! Now I was full. There was no way we were coming apart unless he tore my vagina out. I heard their explanation with half of my attention, the other half consumed by the thing inside of me. Every motion Conor made, was my motion as well, locked together like two links in a chain. His thrusting was limited as a result, but it seemed his knot was scraping my g-spot in unfathomable ways. We were locked together for fifteen minutes and multiple orgasms, before I heard him howl, and felt a gush of fluid suffuse my loins, my wolf finally releasing. It still took several more minutes before his knot relaxed enough he could pull out of me. I felt him sniff my crotch, whimpering, then I heard his voice.

“Are you okay, Jess?”

“Just fine and dandy, puppy. Good job. Eric, it’s your turn.”

I didn’t see him change, didn’t know what he looked like as a wolf, but I soon found out what he felt like as a wolf. The mating ritual was almost exactly the same. Four or five good stiff thrusts to get him well seated, then the knot expanding, filling the mouth of my vagina in ways even the biggest cock couldn’t. The quick, short thrusts, yanking my body back and forth as we were locked together. The exquisite orgasms, the flood of semen when Eric climaxed with more lupine howling, none of which could escape my pussy due to the knot filling me, blocking anything from escaping me. The orgasms I’d had leaving me limp and lethargic, near exhaustion. The wolf cock finally leaving my body, with the fluid of two wolf ejaculations dripping out of me.

“Since I can’t get pregnant now, could someone clean me up a little?” I asked.

“I’ve got it,” Conor said, then a wolf tongue was cleaning up my messy pussy. I just relaxed and enjoyed it until Brigitte told me I was clean.

I turned to face the married couple. Martin’s cock was straining against his pants. Both wolves were erect again. I saw that Eric’s wolf was a yellowish gray color with gray/gold eyes.

I stroked his head. “Thank you, Eric. You’ve earned your right to breed me.”

He suddenly stood before me, and kissed my hand. “Thank you.”

“Does that answer your questions, Martin?” I asked.

“What did it feel like?” Melinda asked.

“It felt good. Different than a man, but good. The knot makes the mouth of my pussy so full. It stretches it, and rubs against my g-spot. There’s less of an emotional connection, I guess, since there’s no kissing, nibbling, rubbing of breasts, and so forth, but there’s nothing wrong with the sex itself. There’s this hairy body rubbing against you, almost like a rug, and feeling so full. There’s not much sliding, once the knot has formed. He’s just locked to you, but the little thrusts make you know you have something inside of you. You feel each one like a tug.”

“You orgasmed quite a lot, didn’t you?” Martin asked.

“Many times. Melinda will too, Martin. She’ll enjoy the sex with wolves in both human and wolf form. You wouldn’t want it to hurt would you?”

He shook his head no.

“How often do you and Melinda have sex?”

“Two, maybe three times a week normally, perhaps more when she was fertile and we thought we’d be making a baby.”

“Would you say you’re better at giving her pleasure now than when you first began having sex?”

“Yes.”

“From what I’m told, wolves frequently have sex three to four times per day. Even a young wolf like Conor, who’s only been having sex for six years, is vastly more experienced than a thirty year old man. He’s learned how to give his partner sexual pleasure. Older wolves are probably even better. Imagine having sex three to four times a day for a hundred and fifty years, how good that would make you in pleasing a partner. Don’t imagine for a second that Melinda won’t enjoy the sex. That doesn’t mean she’ll fall in love with a wolf.

“I’ve been fucking Conor for several days now. I’m no closer to being in love with him now than when we first met. It’s just sex, if that makes sense to you. Melinda won’t feel the emotional bond she feels when having sex with you. Wolves fuck without emotion, except with their mates. They’re not as wrapped up in the emotional structures we normally feel as humans. It’s more like sex with prostitutes, almost a political transaction, bonding with the entire pack. If a senior wolf demands it, Conor has to suck his cock, even if he doesn’t want to. It doesn’t make him gay. It doesn’t make him anything but a wolf.”

“I see.”

I put my clothes on again. The clothing may keep more wolf semen from dripping out on the floor. We returned to the dining room, although the tables were now pushed aside and wolves were having sex, as humans, or as wolves. Had the howling set them off?

“Excuse me, Eric. Why are all the wolves having sex right now?” I asked.

“They were in the mood for love. It was the scent of freshly fucked pussy and the howling, probably.”

I started humming ‘I’m in the Mood for Love, Simply Because You’re Near Me’. Mine was the freshly fucked pussy.

“Unless you want to watch wolves mating, why don’t we go outside and enjoy some fresh air and sunshine?” I asked M&M.

They tore their eyes off the orgy going on around us and we went outside. Eric, Conor and Brigitte went with. The two wolf cocks were staying on the hard side. Apparently the smells were too tempting to ignore. We sat down in some wooden Adirondack rocking chairs. Martin and Melinda in a twin seat. I didn’t ask if Martin was going to let his wife fuck wolves. He could figure that out on his own time.

“Do you have baby names picked out yet?” I asked. No point in not reminding him why he was here.

“Delia, if it’s a girl, Trey if it’s a boy,” Melinda said.

“Is Trey short for anything, or a family name?”

“No, we just always liked the name.”

“So Gretchen is planning to do this too?” Martin asked.

“She was a little relieved it was going to be a wolf cock and not a human cock. She felt like she didn’t have to give up her gold star lesbian status. She kind of wanted to see what you just saw, just to see what it would be like. Brenda wants to watch too. I think she’ll go ahead if nothing freaks her out about wolf mating.”

“Cheerleader Brenda?” Martin asked.

“Yeah, she’s tired of working like a dog and living at home. She tried Conor out as a human, and enjoyed that, so what the hell, right? She won’t have to take care of this baby.”

We just rocked in companionable silence for awhile, only the chairs rocking against the wood deck making any noise. Eventually, the two cocks began losing their stiffness, lying limp over a meaty thigh, Perhaps the scents of fornication were beginning to dissipate.

“What’s it like finding out you have a werewolf grandfather?” Melinda asked.

“I’m happy to know I have a grandfather. Mom never knew anything about her parents. She’s tried to find out for years. I guess it doesn’t make that much difference to me if he’s a wolf or human.”

“Does it make you more sympathetic to wolves?” Martin asked. “Is that why you’re recruiting breeders?”

“I started recruiting breeders before I knew. My desperation for money made me more sympathetic to wolves,” I said. “That’s why I entered into an agreement. If others had the same monetary issues I did, I’d ask, and they could decide what they wanted to do. Werewolves are fascinating to me. It’s like a fairy tale come to life. Kind of makes me wonder about a lot of stories we heard as children. Was Little Red Riding Hood an actual werewolf tale? When the Queen of Crete cuckolded the King with Zeus disguised as a bull, and had the Minotaur as offspring, were they really talking about a bull shapeshifter. Leda and the swan? Wolves aren’t the only shifters, you know. There are others. Vampires were real, but may be extinct. How much of what we imagined as nonsense, was actually real at some point. The scientist/engineer part of me really wonders about it, about the science behind it. You know what, Brigitte, instead of just sitting around on my duff, maybe we should practice self defense again.”

“Take off your clothes,” she said, rising to her feet. “Prepare to have your ass kicked.”

Taking off my clothes for the second time that day, Brigitte did seriously kick my ass. Worse than I’d hoped. Every time I thought I was getting better, she upped the level of her opposition. I was taking a beating.This is property © NôvelDrama.Org.

“You’re beating the crap out of her,” Martin said. I wasn’t the only one who noticed.

“I know. She won’t get better if I take it easy on her,” Brigitte said. “Eric, you want some of this? I’ll let candy ass take a quick break.”