Almost There (Patreon)

I was inspired to write this werewolf story based on two pieces of art from wwbot:  the first one and the second one but mostly that second one.  So, here y'all go!  A fast paced smutty werewolf piece!

She's standing in the kitchen, staring into the fridge with her back to me, dressed in loose jogging shorts that barely cover her ass cheeks.  They're split down the sides to show her lightly tanned skin in all of its glory.  As sexy as the day I met her.

And yet she radiates unhappiness.  It's in the way she holds her shoulders and her posture.  Standing in place, not moving unless it's purposeful.  

I know it's not anything I've consciously done.  I'm not like those stereotypical men you see in boomer comics that are assholes to their wives and then oblivious when they've done something wrong.  Shrugging their shoulders and rolling their eyes while attributing the behavior to 'woman issues'.

While far from perfect, I do my part because we're a team and I've done more than my share over the last several months when she started to pull away.  A bit more attention, a bit more chores, a bit more in the romantic department.  But still, she's stiff.

"Hey, sweetheart, I'm going in to work," I tell her, going up behind her while wrapping an arm around her to give her a hug and a quick peck on the back of her head.  Her loose, shoulder-length hair smells like flowers.

"Okay," she says, still looking into the fridge.

"Love you," I tell her back with a frown.

"Love you, too," she replies automatically.

It sucks.  It sucks so much but I don't know what's going on.  So, I grab my wallet and keys, work my little toeses into my shoes, tie the little waxed laces and leave.  To work.  Leaving to go to work, not leaving my wife.

The drive is dull but not as dull as sitting at my desk.  It's quiet, the air is cool and barely anyone emails or calls so I go through my backlogged todo list while occasionally glaring at the clock.  Counting down the hours until I can leave but all that does is make.  Time.  Craaawwwwl.

Near the end of the day, I get a frantic call for a report that makes me dive into data, distracting me until I look up to see there's only a little more than 30 minutes left before I can clock out without looking like I've done a minimum amount of work for the day.

"You seem tense," a voice says, making me jump in my chair.

Carla looms behind the tall partition of my remote little desk, coffee cup in hand.  I am a married man but I will not lie; Carla's a fucking sexpot.  She's lithe with curves that are somehow both soft and sharp at the same time, as if trying to draw you in until you're too close and she springs the trap on you.  The sexy, sexy trap.  Her knee-length skirt hugs her body and the blouse she wears seems to be almost vacuum sealed to her.  I don't think she has an ounce of fat on her, unless you count her amazing ass.  Not even the gray suit jacket she wears can hide her beauty.

And her eyes, god her eyes.  She always seems hungry.  And I'm not talking about food.

It's worse today and I swallow because she's just projecting charisma and barely restrained lust.

I am a married man.  I am, I am.

Plus, she's a manager.  Not mine but one of them, fairly high up.  Not one to fuck with even if she didn't generate the field of- of- shit, I dunno.  Like in the movies where you see a pissed off couple having fierce, angry make up sex, breaking shit and bruising each other while they fuck.  Something like that.

Dammit.

"Earth to Bill, ksssh, come in BIll," she says, waving her coffee cup in front of my face.

"Oh, yeah, sorry, sorry," I sigh, turning to send my finished report with a click before swiveling back to her.

Her nails clink against the ceramic, surprisingly loud, and then she drags them across the surface.  The cup seems to shriek and her smile widens to show way too many teeth.

"What's wrong?" she prods, leaning against the inside of my cubicle.

Her eyes are so mesmerizing.  Sharp and- and- hazel?  Amber?  They're a strange mix and I guess I never noticed before.  I feel compelled to just unload on her but it's all personal problems and this is work so it's not really-

"Let me guess," she says, tilting her head.  Her eyes narrow and I see her nose widen quickly, once, twice, three times.  "Marital problems?"

"Ahhh, haha," I laugh awkwardly.  If she were a normal coworker, I'd tell her off but she's too high up the chain so I'm in that uncomfortable power balance of being a wimpy underling compared to her.

"How long have you been married now, Bill?" she continues.

"Almost three years," I say automatically.  My anniversary is coming up so I'm quite aware of the time.

She nods and her nails crack against the mug, over and over.  They're a dark color, almost black and surprisingly thick.  Just adds to her strange allure.

"That makes sense," she muses, lifting her chin once more to breathe in deeply.  "A lot of marriages falter around then.  People get comfortable and lazy and start to wonder if the grass is greener.  If they could find someone better.  A mixture of FOMO and a general malaise."

"Well-" I start to say.

"Often alongside a dead bedroom," she says bluntly, flashing her teeth once more.  It's not a smile, really.  Not this time.  It's a kind of hunger.  Or watchfulness.  A predator spying a flagging, injured prey at the back of a herd.  She stares directly at me when she says it.

She knows.  Somehow she knows.  I shiver as she sets the coffee cup down on my desk.  Carla follows, sitting against the edge of the desk.  Way closer than I'd like.  Well, no, a part of me likes very much that she's this close to me but I am a married man.

"I'm right, aren't I?" she asks but she doesn't wait for me to reply.  "You fall in love, things are wild for a time and then you both get comfortable, day after day, falling asleep in front of the television rather than passing out in each other's arms after a round or two or three of hard sex.  You make excuses for it and then bang the next day but those days start to add up and the excuses continue until you're not sure whether you don't want it or she doesn't want it.  And now you're afraid to ask. You're horny, you want sex but you're in a weird spot and afraid of making it worse."

"Yes," I gasp, hypnotized.  I'm caught up in her spiel and my heart is racing.  Her hip bumps against my keyboard and I can smell her perfume.  Is it perfume?  She smells earthy.  Like the scent of sweat and sex and- and- god, what is that smell?  "I'm- I'm worried she's cheating on me."

She grabs the edge of the desk and leans to me, painfully slow.  Painful because my cock is bunched in my pants, hard and horny and angry about it.  I feel the heat emanating from her body when her cheek passes within inches of mine. And then I hear her breathe in.  She raises her head up to my ear and then down near the back of my neck.  I grip the arms of my chair and grind my teeth in response.

"She's not," she says, sitting back again.

"How- how- d- do-" I stutter.

"Do you want to fuck me, Bill?" she says.

Jesus.  Fucking.  Christ.  Yes.  Yes, I do.  But, goddammit, I'm a married man.  She waits and the world waits with her. Everything freezes as she stares at me, her molten gold eyes burning through me.

Is it an offer?  Is it a trap?

"No," I gasp, my voice raw.

"But you do," she purrs.  "I can smell it.  I know it's been a while.  Too long.  You're a man.  You're still young.  You're handsome.  You have a good job and you're intelligent.  You could have your pick."

Fuuuuuck.  Fuuuck.  She's right.  I could.  God.  The idea of fucking her on my desk is so fucking intense.  I'm so goddamn horny that I'm imagining she's wet- that that's what that mystery smell is in my fantasy world.  I know it can't be but that's how hard up I am.  It'd be so easy.

"No," I sigh, making fists hard enough that I almost draw blood from my nails.

She laughs and her voice has an odd ragged quality.  Like she coughing or grumbling or-

"Really?" she asks.

She's right in front of me suddenly and, again, I can feel the heat from her body.  Like a furnace.  I push back but she follows with a wicked smile.  There's blood on her lips.  Through all the craziness, I notice the bright red against her dark lips and then she's on me, her mouth on mine.  There's a sharp pain and now I taste the blood, swallowing involuntarily when her tongue twists against mine.

And then she leans back, leaving me pressed hard back against my chair with my ears and face and chest bright red.  Fuck!  Goddammit!  My cock is trying to explode through my pants.

"Are you really sure?" she asks again, gold eyes ringed by black.  Her voice is rough.  "You could bend me over your desk right now.  Take me like an animal."

"No," I gasp, licking my lips. They throb where she bit me but I can't feel the cut.  "I love my wife and would never hurt her."

It hurts to say it in the face of Carla's assault but it's true.  I can't and I won't harm my marriage.  I can work it out with her.  She's an amazing woman and we're just in a weird rut.

"Good," she says, grinning and bouncing up while grabbing her coffee.  She glances towards the windows and then back to me.

What the hell was that shit?

"Enjoy the gift," she says with a sly wink.

"I didn't!" I lie before she turns away.  She cocks her head at me.  "That- that wasn't a gift! That was sexual harassment!  You can't just- you can't-  I'll-"

"Ohhh, Bill," she laughs and her eyes twinkle.  "You think our little momentary bit of flirting was the gift?"

Instead of explaining, she laughs, shakes her head and walks away, dropping her coffee cup at a random desk and sauntering away, shrugging out of her jacket.  She lets it fall to the floor and continues walking until she's out of sight and I hear the door slam open.

Fuck me.  Do I report it?  I think- I think I don't.  If she keeps it up, okay.  But, no, not otherwise.

I tug at the collar of my shirt to let some air in to cool me off and then shake my head.  That was way, way too intense.  And it's definitely my signal to go home and kiss my wife.

Locking my computer, I grab my jacket and leave, stopping in the hallway to pick up Carla's jacket to hang on a nearby cubicle.  I have no idea what that's about but she can grab it when she comes in tomorrow.

I follow her path, lost in my memories of the moment.  Allowing myself to enjoy it despite feeling like it's a little too close to cheating.  It's too hot inside the office and when I finally get outside, I sigh happily as the cool air surrounds me.  But so does her scent, thick and heavy and hot.  It's a wide river that courses away from the parking lot, past the Interstate next to us and into the woods beyond that.  I breathe in deeply, sneeze and then hurry to my own car.

Brown hairs lift on the nape of my neck, emerging from the skin in a curving peak that points down my spine.

I'm still hard and have been since Carla assaulted me.  I grab my cock and groan as I open my car and slide inside, squeezing my cock at the memory of her.  And then the memory of my wife this morning in her shorts.  Fucking hot.

Stubble rises along the edge of the hairs growing from my nape, lengthening and spreading slowly, so very slowly down, down my spine.  I rub myself against the back of my seat, squeeze my cock once more and back out of my parking lot.

Wispy black hairs emerge from the curved edges of my ears and they tremble in response to the itching the growths cause.  The hairs push against each other and then outward, tickling my scalp.  

The full, bright moon shines off two pinpoints of gold in my left eye.  It's faint in the sky with the sun low on the horizon but it's glowing, surrounded by a sterling halo that continuously pulls at my attention.

Muscles tug at my spine and I growl, shoving back in my seat as sweat beads along my back.  New nerves, tendons and ligaments form beneath the growing muscles as bones pull apart and my back cracks, making me shiver while the loosened end of my previously useless tailbone clicks in my hip.  

There's a loud pop and now everything sounds like it's filtering through grinding sand.  My ears itch.  I accidentally jerk the wheel too hard while scratching first the left, then the right ear, pressing in with my knuckle to really dig in and relieve the pressure.

They're sliding upwards, bit by bit.  The black and brown hairs still growing from the backs of my ears tangle with my short, brown curly hair while the edges are unroll and take on a triangular shape.

I swallow. And then swallow again.  And then lick my lips.  The moon is so fucking beautiful.  It makes everything just- just glow around me.  Everything.  Even with the sun fully set now, the world is so bright.  Furrows appear on the bridge of my nose, pulling the skin tight enough that cracks appear on the rim of my nostrils.

Pre-cum wells from the tip of my cock as I stroke myself and lick my lips with a tongue that's thicker than it has any right to be.  I can see my wife in my mind. Not at the fridge now but at the counter.  Bent over, ass up.  Tearing at her shorts.  Fuck.  It's been too fucking long.

The hairs on my neck, short and brown and sparse, shift and begin to fan outward to my shoulders.  They're soaked with my sweat and my scent feels the car.  Earthy.  Like-

"Carla," I growl, pawing at my cock.  

Trying to tempt me away from my mate.  Fuck that. FUCK that.  Tiffany is mine.  

My head brushes against the roof of my car when my spine cracks separates to make room for my changes.  Lines of dense, powerful muscles emerge on my forearms, beneath my shirt, when I grip the steering wheel hard enough that it bends in my grip.

Skin stretches and bulges along my palms, just as my hands cramp, causing me to growl.  I'm just a mile away from home.  Eager to be out of this fucking cage.  Spit flies from my lips as they darken, black filling the micro stretch marks when they bulge out from my burgeoning muzzle.  Drool drips from the corners of my lips.  My canines screech with an almost imperceptible whine but my incredibly sensitive ears twist in annoyance in response.  Hard points press against my lips until I open my mouth to lick the drool away.

I can't stand it anymore.  The car jerks to a stop and I wrench the door, breaking the bottom hinge so it hangs at an angle.  

A tear forms at the back of my shirt when my shoulders spread, widening my upper body.  My cramped feet strain against my shoes and I drop to all fours for a brief second.  The nub of my tail arcs up against my slacks and the belt surrounding them.  Everything is too tight, too bright and too loud and I'm too fucking horny to think straight.  

Another growl.  Brown hairs emerge from my jaw, soft and short as I put one thinly padded hand in front of the other, sniffing the air while orienting towards home.  I'm close.

I stand and run, exulting in the rush of wind cooling my body and the freedom of movement.  Houses are a blur and cars honk while people yell some nonsense that isn't at all important right this moment.

My chest expands, the ribcage pushing against flesh hard enough that buttons pop on my shirt.  A light dusting of brown fur covers my normally hairless chest.  My legs pump with a shocking burst of speed.  I thought I'd run fast before but my lungs swell like bellows and I push, passing a car driving on the street next to me.

The rip in the back of my shirt shows a spreading pelt that grows down to the middle of my back.  My house is right in front of me.  I bend, going to all fours again while sliding and braking my run.

I pause at the door, confused until I grip the handle and turn, breaking the lock.  I push and walk in, growling when Tiffany's scent fills my nose.  She's in the kitchen, washing dishes.  My thick, triangular ears rotate towards her and I go to all fours to relieve the pressure on my back.  It's getting harder to stand on two legs.

My shoes burst around my feet, the soles popping free to expose my swollen toes.  Yet my big toes have shrunk back, as small as my pinky toes.  Like my hands, the skin along my forefeet and toes are covered in a thick, dark skin that rasps against the vinyl flooring. My lips vibrate into a growl when sharp, hot pain lances through my feet.  The bones slide forward, dragging my toes with them.

She's there.  My mate.  My beautiful girl.  Standing with her back to me.  She smells worried.  Tense.  Afraid.  It gets worse as I come in.  She's changed into black stretch pants and a thin white shirt, one of the ones that wicks sweat away when you exercise.

I force myself up to two legs and go to her, wrapping thick arms around her.  My shirt has split to show fur and bare skin over corded muscle.  My groan is a near growl but I hold her tight while shoving my cock against her ass.

She starts to say something but then doesn't, yet holds herself unnaturally still.

Her smell.  I can't get enough.  My nails pop free on my hands to reveal deadly, curved black claws that emerge over little trails of blood.  I claw into her, mixing my blood with hers and she cries out, jumping and spinning while reaching for the bloody marks.

I grab her roughly when her eyes widen in fear.  My belt whines under the strain of my changing body.  Muscles continue to form down my body, reaching into my hips to tear at bones and flesh.  The cheap buckle on the belt lifts and then separates when my ass fills out, strong and powerful for running endlessly through the night.  The changes flow downward to my thighs, ripping my pants when they bulge.

Blood fills my mouth when I kiss her and my claws roam her body.  She's beating at me and I growl in confusion.  Her little fists pull at the thick mane of brown fur on my upper back and I finally pull away.

My center of gravity is fucked and it feels wrong to be on two legs.  I drop to all fours and shake myself, kicking back to try to get my pants off.

"What the fuck!" Tiffany shouts, pushing back while throwing a plate at me.  I swipe at it and it shatters on the floor.  "Who the fuu-aaagh!"

She grabs her shoulder and drops to her knees.  Gray hairs grow around the already-healing claw marks.  She cries out again and clutches her stomach while curling forward, stopping to catch herself with one hand on the ground.

"It- it hurts," she whines before grabbing the fridge door to pull herself back up.  I follow as she stumbles into the living room to collapse once more, barely making it to the couch.

My jaw clicks as the bones of my face slide forward.  Strings of drool latch onto the fur spreading along my cheeks and chin before snapping and falling to the ground beneath me.  I stretch out my back legs, finally free of my pants, while raising my muzzle high.

I score the flooring with my claws, raking them down until my curved black nails catch between the sealed gaps and I tug, tearing an entire plank free.  

Veins stand out on my throbbing, bobbing cock.  It swells, skin stretching and straining as pink fades to red.  As it gains girth, it lengthens, dragging against thick fur on my belly every time it bobs up in time to my heart beat.  I snap at the air at the sharp pressure in my gut - the bestial urge to rut and mate taking root.  Pre-cum dribbles freely, flowing outward to latch the ground in an arc up to my cock until it grows too heavy and pulls free.  

The little hole atop the head of my cock is sliding, flowing downward while pushing out into a little point.  Almost a proper wolf's cock.  Almost.

I look up, panting with my wide tongue flat against my fangs to see Tiffany staring at me with horror.

And something else.

Lust.

It fills me when I look at Ben.  The hot arousal I'd lost somewhere along the way.  Forgotten in too many domesticated nights.  

Is that him?  It has to be.  I- I can smell him.  I groan, grinding my teeth as the bones in my face turn to bubbling magma.  Hot!  So hot!  So fucking hot! 

Sweat pours from my body as I tear at my shirt, snarling and growling until I fling it away from me, gasping from the slight brush of cool air swirling in from our broken door.  

And still I sweat, gasping and breathing quickly, licking my lips as my chest rises and falls over and over, panting like a bitch in heat.

My bra strains against my chest and my breastbone pulls the flesh of my belly taut, showing hardened muscle along my bare abdomen.  

Dark black stubble lines the protruding bone as it grows more dense and the hairs spread upward, slipping beneath my straining bra.

Can't stop touching myself.  Rubbing myself.  Scratching along my body.  Rubbing my puffy black padding against sweat-slick skin and patches of fur.  Nail polish cracks when my claws push against my nails, breaking them.  I growl with pleasure until spasms wrack my fingers.  My thumbs pop and shrunk, losing flexibility as they pull back while the rest of my fingers push forward to become long paws.

Rough skin forms at the bottom corner of my palm, stretching and bulging out when my hands continue to elongate.  The skin cracks and swells into carpal pads to match the padding lining my palms.

My hips jerk.  And twitch.  I growl, breath hot and raspy while grabbing the back of the couch, raising my ass and feeling the muscles tighten. There's a loud crack that makes me whine and I lose the feeling in my legs for a few seconds.  And the burning hot feeling between my legs.  

Whining, I claw at the crotch of my pants, easily tearing through the soaked fabric and the panties beneath to reveal my swollen, dripping pussy.  My long, wide tongue lashes out to drag against my lips just as nerves reconnect along my spine and I can feel myself again.  I snarl and rub my leathery padding against the swollen pussy lips, raising and lowering my hips as if fucking my own hand.

It isn't enough and I'm feeling too constrained.  I push at my pants, shoving against them.  Hairs erupt from my pussy lips and the skin beside them, hiding my glistening sex and mound beneath a thick tuft of gray fur.  The smell of my arousal wafts through the room when my cum attaches to the growing hairs.

I'm so wet.  I'm so hot.  I can't stop whining and whimpering and even when I touch myself, smearing my cum along my belly and thighs, there's more, dripping down beneath me and soaking into the pants clinging to my legs.  More gray fur pierces the thin pants along the backs of my thighs, nearly hidden by the matching black fabric.  

Needles press into my feet, piercing the surface and into the bones below, liquifying them.  I know they're still there because they're popping and cracking.  Skin scrapes against fur and skin.  I rub my feet together to soothe the pain.  The claws - no, dewclaws, on my shrinking big toes scratch against my sensitive soles.  

Skin and bone stretch, dragging my other toes forward.  I press my feet onto the floor and they slide when dark cracks appear over my forefeet.  My hand rubs between my thighs once more as the pain in my legs and elongating paws turns to a pleasurable ache.  Flesh gathers beneath the cracked skin and it bulges outward into a trefoil paw print. 

I raise my left foot, snagging my dewclaw against my sweatpants.  Skin tightens against thick muscles in my thighs.  I flex and my thighs flare, the taut skin nearly hidden behind the black fur creeping along my legs.  I push and my dewclaw drags my pants down until my crotch is completely uncovered.  

Ben stretches before me.  He's so beautiful.  Four legged and full of fur and fangs and claws with his massive red cock stretched out over the thick sheath growing up from the base of his dick.  It pulls back as two hardened lumps appear.

Oh fuck.  Oh fuuuuck!  His knot.  His fucking knot!  My ears are afire.  The beast knows what it is even though the human part of me only has vague recollections of how dogs, and wolves by extension, are built.  But the beast, god.  God!  It knows and it howls within until I join its song, raising my half-muzzle to the ceiling.  My hairless cheeks stretch to cover the fangs growing in the gaps of my maw.

Panting again.  I can't think of anything other than his knot spreading my cunt.  I claw along my body, growling when I feel white-hot lumps of skin forming on my torso.  My paw pads bump over the wrinkled little flesh and I twist and snarl, rubbing and swirling the little teats as they form in place.  Nipples for my cubs.  My ribcage creaks, pushing against the furred skin covering my chest.  Clasps along the band of my bra valiantly try to hold in place until finally pulling free when my growing body overwhelms them.  

Skin gathers around my clit, hiding the glistening little nub.  I whine and press hard against it but the sensitivity fades.  The fur surrounding it moves as a mass of flesh forms and then flows outward over the hood, pulling it out into a short, rounded tip.  I squeeze it and twist and then jerk when flesh and fur slides between my ass cheeks.  I grab at whatever it is and yip when my hand grips my thick tail.  

The tail flexes upward, slapping against my wet, swollen pussy.  The strange thick flesh over my clit quivers from the impact and I twist at the pleasurable reverberations.

Something's changing again.

I thought I was in heat before but the throbbing hunger low in my belly turns into a wild, uncaged animal.  It grips me and twists, forcing me to roll.  I claw down the back of the couch and white fluff erupts from the torn cushions.  The beast shoves down on my chest while grabbing my ass to pull upward and I comply while spreading my legs.

My elongated feet sliiiiide against the floor, gouging the vinyl until they sink deep enough to anchor me.

Black stretch marks appear in my swollen, puffy labia.  They bulge outward and then tighten.  I can feel them pressing together. I can feel their heat and the velvet soft skin as pink fades to gray and then to black.  I tense the muscles within, groaning and growling when I feel the slick, powerful muscles slipping together.  When I tense again, the black opens to show pink and a torrent of clear cum spurts forth.  

My fangs tear at the couch cushions while my ears lay flat.  Auburn hairs grow from the edges and down to cover the backs.

My cum dribbles as the labia fold, pushing together beneath the jutting tip hiding my clit.  Finally.  Finally my distended, black pussy is ready for my mate.  The wolf within growls in contentment and I mirror it, dropping to all fours while pressing my chest down to the floor.  I feel the cool vinyl against the ash-colored fur covering my chest and my erect nipples brush back and forth as I offer myself to my mate.

Although my breasts are smaller than before on my widened chest, I know that once I'm with pups, I'll have enough milk for all of them.

I look back to him, Ben, my mate to see him stalking over to me.  He's huge, drooling while growling and eyeing my pussy.  I lower myself further and curl my tail so it's easier for him to mount me.  It's all I can think of.  All I want.  All I ever want.

My scream is high pitched when his knot rubs against my pussy but I muffle it by tearing into the remains of the couch, shaking my head back and forth while growling and snarling.  He shoves over and over and over and over and over and over and I jerk from an orgasm, spraying him with cum.  My black pussy lips open once more, for a brief second and he slips inside, easily parting my incredibly tight pussy with his pointed, reddened cock.

He chuffs and then grunts and pounds into me, shoving my head into the couch hard enough that it slides backwards.  I snarl at him and shove back, squeezing with powerful new muscles.

The human side of me wants multiple orgasms but the wolf just wants his cum.  The heat needs to be quenched.  His knot stretches my pussy and it's painful enough to make me whimper but I shove back and snarl when he pulls away.  

Ben licks my cheeks and ear as he begins to pound, shoving down to keep me in place.  Our fur muffles the squelch from my sopping wet sex but does nothing for our grunts and growls and screams.  Every inch of my body is alive, the nerves burning bright from the forge of the insane heat.  The brown fur on his chest latches onto the gray fur on my back and even just the tiny tugging drives me wild.  

I flex back and up as he pounds down.

His paw slides down to mine and we grip each other's elongated hands awkwardly. I feel him trembling against me and his growling is erratic.  The human part knows what's coming.  It knows what to-

White hot pain bursts within my body when my pussy envelopes his knot, locking us in place.  The twin bulges press against every goddamn nerve at the entrance of my pussy and his short, powerful thrusts now rub against the clit hidden beneath the strange flared hood.  

I gasp and scrabble and claw at the ground but it's useless.  My orgasm roars through me.  I black out, losing myself completely to the beast, snapping and pounding the ground while pulsing around his cock.  It brings him to the edge and then over and I grab him, reaching up and around to claw at his back and hold myself up against suddenly weak leg muscles.  My tail thumps against his side while he empties himself within me, grinding against my cervix when he continues to pound into me.

I can't- I can't- I can't-

I lose myself in it completely.

We're laying together, some time later when I feel his knot deflating.  I twist my limbs and he holds me tight until I stop.  When he's free and limp, I turn and grip his cock, wrapping my tongue around his sheath before dragging it up, lapping at our cum, over and over.  I take great pleasure in seeing his knot inflate once more, pushing his sheath back as his cock grows hard and impossibly big.  

I want it again.  And again.  But the house is wrong.  I push to all fours and race, tail streaming behind me as I pound along the ground, scenting the air to move away from the chemicals and scents of other people.  Ben easily catches up but stays just behind me, giving me the lead until we're lost in the wilderness.

The forest goes silent at our entry as birds and animals flee.  We rut like wolves, singing to the moon high above.

---

Everything hurts.

My eyes crack open but it doesn't make sense.  I see trees and an enormous root curving just above my head.

Oh.  Ohhhh.  I'm naked.  I move.  And groan.  And feel sticks and dirt and leaves against my skin.  Fuck.  Fuuuuck.  My crotch is so sore.  It's a dull, throbbing pain and- and- it's weirdly, um, nice?  But it still hurts.

Ben.  I can- I can smell him somehow.  All over me but stronger to my side. So I turn and see him.

Monkey brain thoughts like: Why am I naked?  Why am I naked outside? Why do I smell like sex?  Why do I smell like sex outside?  Why do I want more sex?  all lower themselves at the sound of a threatening internal growl from the beast lurking within me.  Because my mate is beside me and this was really really important right now.

He hurts my heart.  

It all wells up, all of the fears I've kept inside.  All of my self doubt.  All of my concerns about where I was going.  Where we were going.  I've- I've never been good at opening up and so I kept it inside until I was frozen in fear, pushing him away in a self fulfilling prophecy that would end with me on my own again.

I can't do that to him.  I have to talk to him and explain what I've done.  I stare at his scruffy stubble and the wild tangle of hair on his- wait, when did he have a hairy chest?

Reaching over to him, my arm brushes my belly and something else, making me jump.

I sit up on my elbows and look down.  I have - is that- is that an eight pack of abs?  Okay.  That's freaky but not the problem.  Neither is- what the hell is up with my clit?  No, no, it was-  Are those-? Are those extra fucking nipples?

Touching one confirms my suspicions.  They confirm them really, really well.

"What the fu-!"

Birds scatter in frantic flight in the trees above me while animals, cowering far away, piss themselves and race even deeper into the forest to hide.