Mr. Wolf (Patreon)

So I had this idea that for a brief moment before a werewolf turns his cum would imbue mystical properties like healing and growth. In my mind this would be something that wouldn't had been noticed before, as werewolfs would only have sex with eachother. So I wrote an outline of it, it felt like it lacked a bit in the intercourse part. I'm not really good at sex scenes, but knows that Soren Fitz loves to have story progress through sex scenes. He was willing to have a go at the draft and see what he could make of it. After a bit of back and forth we landed on a story that focuses more on the relationship between the two than the transformation itself, obviously reflecting our differences in bias. This is the story I gave him. There is an obvious gap in the sex scene that I hadn't written at the time, and then didn't have to.

"Evening Mr. Wolf" I say as I open the door and see the hulking mountain of a man outside, dressed in practical work clothes and a hi-viz vest this time. He keeps jumping between jobs for whatever reason. I've never asked him why.

"Bitch!" he dourly snaps back as he pushes past me into the apartment, carrying a toolbox. The "B" was resonant and explosive, but the rest of the word didn't suit his low vocal range and came out softer than he undoubtedly would have liked. Something like "Fuck Off!" suited his voice and made it clear in no uncertain term that if you continued whatever you were up to you would lose your conscience. But this wasn't it. He was still playing the game. He'd never asked me to call him something else, and he accepted my teasing. So far at least.

He walks into the middle of my living room and recklessly drops his toolbox on the floor, apparently completely uninterested in the charcuterie board I put on the table. Yesterday I took the trouble to walk all the way over to the European deli for a more exclusive spread. Boar salami, Pata Negra ham, Finish cured bear meat. The owner talked me into buying a bottle of red port as well, though I suspected it would pair better if I had any cheese on the board. All that stuff was expensive enough as it was, though if I started to tally up all the savings from this arrangement I would still come out way ahead.

"Where the fuck are you? What's your fucking problem!?" he shouts back at me, as I have barely shut the front door and locked it. There it is. That booming, commanding voice with a hint of violence. He is ten minutes early. Thankfully I now left the job early and started preparing hours before he showed up. Cleaning, showering, douching, lubing, uncorking the wine. I'm not sure he cares about all of that, or any of it, but I want to make an effort at least. He had warned about getting more aggressive, something about apogee and perigee, so I wasn't unprepared mentally the past few times. Still it felt a little bit like those big cat sanctuaries where keepers pet tigers that could decide to end their life at any moment, should they not find the room service up to standards.

His eyes are furiously piercing me as I hastily move past him towards my bedroom. He has so far only thrown off his hi-viz vest and whatever else he had under it and is standing wearing his workman trousers, boots, and cap. He doesn't bother to undress more but follows right behind me, giving me an extra push in the back. Before we even reach my bed he grabs the back of my sweatpants and pulls them down, and pulls me towards him. I hear the cracks of threads breaking, probably ruining the elastic waist of yet another pair of pants, and in a motion that would stun anyone else for its surprising speed, his massive dick penetrates me to his balls. I gasp in response to the sudden change, the fullness, the pain, and the overwhelming pleasure. He knows I can take it.

I'm not that small anymore, but I'm nothing against his size and strength. He hugs me and straightens out. He is carrying me in front of him, speared on his dick. Moving towards the bed every step he takes reverberates in me. I don't make any efforts to move. He practically dives into the bed, with me beneath him. The impact pushes him even deeper before he starts pulling out a bit. Then back in again. I slowly move up to a bridge position on all four as he pounds away. It's raw, uninspired doggy style, but he is like lost in it. I know from previous times that he has the stamina to keep at it for a long time.

He hugs me, letting me take his full weight as I feel the base of his cock inflating inside of me. Then comes the first shot of cum. I'm again surprised how deep inside of me I feel it. The knot on his dick is still inflating when the second shot cums. Just a few months ago I would have struggled under his weight, but now it feels almost endearing to physically support him while he's orgasming. He's shooting shot after shot, and I can feel the warmth and the strength of it spreading throughout my body. He's never shot this many shots, this much cum before. He must have kept himself from cumming for days, perhaps more than a week. I get a sudden surge of emotion knowing cared enough to make some sacrifices to give me what I desired.

I can feel my entire body tensing up. His dick might not be swelling anymore, but my sphincter is squeezing it mercilessly harder and harder as all the various hormones are slipping through the lining of my guts, into my bloodstream, and start wreaking havoc on my body. Werewolves have known since forever that having sex the day before full moon, perhaps even two days, will lead to wolf dick. It's just that for whatever reason human form sex just before turning has only been done amongst other werewolves.

His hugging grip around me loosens as he falls asleep and I carefully roll him over to the side to be my big spoon. My ass is wringing out his dick for every last drop of spunk. He couldn't go limp even if his body wanted to with me as a human cock ring on him. It will be half an hour at least before I could wiggle him out, though an hour is probably more ideal. That extra dose of wolf sperm is going to make pulling free prematurely as painful as staying put will be unbearable. I can feel my body heating up, and were I not already sweaty with a high heartrate from the cardio we just had together, those would be happening as well. I know they will stay that way for another day or two.

That first time we did it I had been begging him for over a month, from the first time he told me about the wolf dick. He refused that moon cycle, but the next one he relented. The sensation of being in biological bondage was every bit as hot as I had imagined, but it was after that things got weird. As always he fell asleep while inside me and I became increasingly worried I had some sort of allergic reaction or something , tethered to a sleeping hulk I couldn't even reach a phone and call for help if I had to. I figured that as long as things didn't get worse I wouldn't have to try to wake him up. Eventually I could detach from him, have a cold shower, and with everything staying the same I decided to wake him up. It took a while to figure it out, but for a few days after him filling me up with werewolf cum my veins are coursing with hormones and stemcells or whatever else is in there.

I'm not quite wolverine invulnerable, but enough that I don't get any muscle soreness after working out. My body just packs muscles effortlessly. Add to that the injection of energy. I won't be able to sleep for another 48 hours, so as long as I have protein bars I can basically power through a full day of weight lifting at the gym. I'll crash hard at the end of the week and sleep for two full days, but the gains are insane.

I grab his arms and pull him in tighter to make myself snug and comfortable while I wait for my grip on his dick to let go. Despite my body screaming out to have a run, lift something heavy, punch something, do anything! I want to be careful and respectful. He doesn't have to come by every month to give me his mystical roid shot. He says it makes his transition easier and that he is much more clear and focused if he is freshly drained before full moon, but I still think it is a mostly one-sided arrangement. Though I can bet the charcuterie board is bare by the time I'm back from gym.