Animals in the Night
Caution: This Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa, Fa/Fa, Mult, Zoophilia,
Desc: Sex Story: Chapter 1 - A woman finds her destiny in sensual experience with nature.
It had always been this way. Even as a young girl, the night was the most comfortable, the most welcoming time of all. Its air was coolest, its smells were cleanest, its shadows were most intriguing. She loved the sound of all the animals scurrying about trying to survive, searching for mates, or just hurrying along on their unknown paths. When the moon was out, the light seemed beautiful, making lovely shades of dark gold in the forests. Even the rain caused a smell that excited her from her earliest memories.
When she first became a woman, the streams were the only water that could make her feel clean after her blood had slipped out of her body. Even the coldest mountain springs never chilled her, but rather stimulated her whole nervous system. Lying on the pine needles or leaves of the forest in the dark had always been her favorite bed. She never feared even the wildest animals, and they seemed to sense her kinship. The stars made her want to reach out for them in their density. The breeze was always the most exciting caress her skin could feel. The brush of leaves against her skin in the forest, or the rasp of sand on her feet in the desert all made her sure that there was perfection in the world.
She had always hunted for game. When she was only five, she caught a young rabbit. She had seen the cats eat the little animals, but couldn't bring herself to kill it, so she released it. Her father had taught her to hunt when she was barely eight, using a little twenty two rifle. She shot a racoon with her first bullet, and from then on drew praise from the older men who watched her skill at tracking, and at killing. It pleased her dad greatly.
She saw the men killing for the sake of it, but never felt the pleasure they seemed to get from such sport. From the beginning, she would eat whatever she killed. If she could not eat it, she would not hunt for it. She learned to cook early as a result, quickly gaining the skill to gut and skin the animals and birds so plentiful then. She would always eat the least cooked portions of the roasted carcasses, and was sure she could manage raw flesh if necessary. Whatever social mores kept most people from reflecting their savage roots, she never acquired.
Her face and body had always seemed to suit her character. Her hair was a tawny auburn, and curled freely. She had dark and prominent eyebrows, which made her large eyes seem wild. Her wide mouth and full lips gave her a fierce appearance from her youth. It was a beautiful face, but feral, seeming to reflect a savage nature. In truth, that was nearly accurate. She would have felt at home in the indian tribes that once inhabited Arizona.
She had always been strong. Living with her parents in the ranch at the foot of the mountains, she had loved doing the work of raising the horses, and feeding the livestock. As a result, her shoulders were broad and well developed, and she would have been described as chunky had there been the slightest bit of fat on her body. Strangely, she never developed an interest in riding, preferring to hike, and as she got older, to run through the desert and up the mountain trails. Her long legs were poweful with the physical exertion she enjoyed. She was a little too muscular to be described as having a good figure in the conventional sense, but she never cared.
Her mother had taken her to Phoenix when she was twelve and tried to make her feminine. They had cut her hair, straightened it, dressed her in dainty skirts and blouses, and bound her feet into heeled shoes. She had left the local high school and spent two months in the best finishing school available. She had tried, but one night during a thunderstorm, she had slipped out a window and walked out into the desert, knowing they would not look for her there. She stayed in the paths of sand heading for home, spending three days. When she arrived, pleading to never return to the ballrooms, etiquette classes, and formal dining, her mother had taken one look at her tanned face and stubborn posture, and said to her father "Well, she's your child. It's your decision."
Her father had smiled at her, remembering the police who feared for her when she was not found quickly, knowing they did not know his not-so-little girl very well. She was not the least tired from her long walk, and he had never really been worried about her ability to take care of herself. "I don't think we're going to make a lady of you, Merry. Maybe we can make you a rancher, though." She always remembered that wish of his, and even after the accident which only his mother survived, and she sold the ranch, Merry studied husbandry in college.
As she stood in her stepfather's garden, the night comforted her sense of loss at the death of her mother. She was a year short of graduating, but didn't really feel she would miss it, and had gone to college mostly to satisfy her parent anyway. She thought she could probably get a job at the dude ranch where she had spent her summer vacations, and being in the mountains, she thought it would be a better life than the cold classrooms. She would have liked a little more freedom, but reality was intruding as it had six years ago.
She had blossomed into a spectacular looking woman, if unconventional in both dress and appearance. Her breasts had developed quickly at thirteen, and were always firm, with small, prominent nipples. She had run cross country throughout her adolesence. As a result, her compact, muscular body had simply acquired the curves which maturity brought, while retaining the tawny slimness of her youth. Her face was still the same, pretty but fierce. Her hair fell almost to her waist now, and she tied it into a loose ponytail. It still framed her face. She was a little short for the breadth of her shoulders. She was no cheerleader, but had always gotten plenty of attention from boys. She had made love freely from an early age, and was a demanding lover, insisting that boys give her pleasure when she slept with them. Her attitude toward sex was based on her experience with animals, and she never worried about gossip about her wild sensuality, knowing that the few boys who had been able to please her were just as fulfilled themselves.
The news about her mother had come this afternoon, and she had come here immediately. Her stepfather was devastated, having devoted himself to her, though Merry thought that mother had never really gotten over her dad. He was a wealthy man, but soft in his soul, and he had needed her mother's certainty. Merry liked him, but couldn't help comparing him to her memory of her father. He had discussed funeral arrangements at dinner, and then gone upstairs to his room. Neither of his sons had gotten here yet, because they were both back east.
Though they had not been close, she would miss her mother. On the rare occasions when she had been uncertain of her feelings, or about how to act with boys, the rather regal lady had always been able to help, mostly by listening. They were vastly different people, but as her only parent, mother had tried to fill in for Dad. Merry felt she had gotten through her teenage years without any damage, and supposed that was all she could ask of her parents. Nonetheless, her heart was heavy.
"Meredith." It was her stepfather. "Yes sir." "Couldn't you call me David, or Father Morris, or something besides sir? I understand I'm just your stepdad, but I'd like you to rely on me if ever you should need something." "Do you mind David? It suits you." What did she mean by that, he wondered. "That would be fine, Meredith. I was sitting upstairs feeling sorry for myself, and saw you standing here. I realized that I'm so lost in my own hurt I wasn't much solace to you. Plus there are some things about your mother's will you should know." "David, I guess I just have to work out my grief in my own mind, and you shouldn't worry about me. My parents made me my own person, don't you think?"
Understatement of the decade, he mused. She was fiercely independent, to the point where it had worried her mother. "She's always been her father's child, Dave. Like a cowboy. I wish she could bring herself to share more of her thoughts with me. But part of me is so proud of her self confidence." She had never realized how sexy Meredith was, and how many men would rush to help her if they got the chance.
"Meredith, you're going to end up very well off in a financial sense. The proceeds from the ranch were in the market the last six years, and the fund has ended up doing better than anyone could have dreamed. I know money's not all that important to you, but it will permit you to be independent, and I think that is something you care about. Still, you have to decide what to do with your life. Your mother bought a cabin on two hundred acres up the mountain from your old ranch, and she wanted you to have that too. She was going to give it to you when you turned twenty one, as a surprise." Merry was the kind of woman who looked straight in your eyes when you talked to her, and he often thought she could read his mind. It was disconcerting, and a couple of his friends had admitted to him that she had shocked them with her candor at cocktail parties. They always blushed, and he guessed they had been secretly lusting for her. She had probably burst their bubbles. It was going to take someone special to handle her, he thought.
"Meredith, I know you don't need me. But I would hope you see that I want to help you as a sort of memory of your mother. So please don't exclude me from your life." She heard his voice choke, and took his hand. There was nothing she could say to relieve his sense of loss. But it was a relief to know that she would not have to make any quick decisions over money, and she thought she knew which property he was talking about.
It had been built by an architect as a second home, part of her Dad's original homestead. It was deep in the woods, and in a great setting. She had never been inside. It seemed to her it was near a stream, and had several rooms. She remembered passing it when she hiked, and thinking about what a great place to live it would be. There wasn't another house within twenty miles. Mother had known her better than she realized.
They stood quietly for a few minutes. She sensed his need for some response from her. "David, thank you for the good news. You were a good husband." She saw him wince, and hugged him as his breathing rasped. "I'll go up to visit the cabin as soon as the funeral is over. I think I know the place. It'll be perfect for me." He pulled away, and kissed her cheek wordlessly. Then she was alone again. But not lonely, for the night was around her.
Three days later, she pulled into the glade after two hours of driving, the last thirty minutes over a dirt road. The funeral had been at two, and she had left immediately afterwards. When she had told David she was going, his oldest son had leered "Why not stay, Merry. We haven't spent any time together." She had looked at him and answered "That's a game you're not ready for, Jack." His Dad had chuckled. No Yalie studs for her, he thought.
The house was rundown. It was two levels, one facing south, the other east. Glass walls gave clear views of the valley on one side, and the stream one hundred yards away on the other. She saw several spots on the roof where the tiles had blown off, and one gutter was hanging loose at the back. The wood siding had held up well, though. She didn't see any broken glass. Hefting two of the bags of groceries she had brought, she unlocked the front door.
Dust covered everything, but she had expected that. What pleased her was the view of the woods from the large living room to her left as she entered. There was a sectional sofa arranged to take advantage of it. She put the bags on the counter of the small kitchen to her right, then climbed the wide steps to the upstairs where a study with wide doors, and the master bedroom, faced behind her to the desert. She opened the sliding glass door of the study, and a similar one in the bedroom. A king size mattress without bedding faced the windows. The view through the dirty glass was magnificent. The house was warm from the afternoon sun. She pulled off her light blazer. As she stood gazing at the desert in the distance, a sense of both isolation and freedom overwhelmed her.
She let her memories surface in her mind. Her father's strong physicality, her mother's conventional opinions, her own love of natural life. She loved animals in a way that she realized in college few others could. Their simple goals kept the pangs of self doubt from clouding their single minded search for simple pleasures. She had always resented civilized restrictions on her impulses. She had seen those often conflicting rules cause unhappiness in almost everyone she had met.
She had been fortunate to have her love of basics. Clothes were one of civilizations great enslavers. The frivolity of so many people's devotion to wearing "just the right thing" had amused her, but was another cause of her rejection of convention. Here, alone, in her own place, she should be able to make her own rules. Merry stripped off her shirt and jeans. Her white bra and brief panties were plenty. There was no one around to force her to cover her skin.
Downstairs, she opened both doors facing the woods, and felt air begin to move with the cross ventilation. Perfect, she mused. She could almost feel her skin's pores open. The thermostat had a cool as well as a heat setting, but she didn't turn either on. The musky smell was clearing out fast. She put the food away, pleased that the refrigerator started running as soon as she turned it on. She kicked off her shoes, and went back out to the car to get the last bag of groceries and a blanket from the trunk. A startled deer ran away as she slammed the door. Oh what a wonderful setting, she thought.
She drank a beer and ate a sandwich as the sun slowly faded. She puttered around, dusting with rags she had found under the kitchen sink. I can scrub it all tomorrow, she decided. She wanted to luxuriate in her new home. Away from the maddening drone of cars, motors, TV, idle chatter about nothing. Alone with herself, and the comfort of the coming night. If someone had been watching, her gloriously voluptuous body in the light cotton underwear moving languidly around the house would have started a riot.
As the sun slid down, the shadows in the trees came alive. The sounds began to reach her, like a symphony. It had been too long since she had enjoyed this song. She turned no lights on, finding her eyes easily adjusting, and besides there was a moon. I'll need sheets, a broom, a mop, a bucket, towels. Shit. No hot water, and she had no idea where the tank was. Then she smiled. I have my stream. She got another beer out of the fridge.
By the time she had finished it, darkness had settled on the glade. Bright stars showed through the tops of the trees, and the moon's indirect light made a gorgeous scene outside the plate glass. I'm going to make them so clean that nothing will interfere with my view, she resolved. She felt no boredom, just the comfort of her surroundings, but she was a little bushed from the long day. She had found a ratty towel under the sink, and she picked it up and started to go outside. "Why bother with my bra and panties" she whispered to herself.
She reached behind her back to unstrap the binding cotton top. Her breasts hardly settled, but rounded out, the small, sensitive aureola puckering. Her nipples seemed to harden with their freedom. Boys had always gone nuts for her tits, and she was always willing to have them suckle her, because they seemed connected to her pussy. She stripped off the panties, rubbing the untrimmed mass of pubic hair in a large triangle between her muscular legs. She dipped her hand into the furry slit briefly, feeling the nerves respond to her nudity. "This feels so good, so free" she murmured. "Might as well talk to myself, there's no one else. I don't want anyone else."
Walking out the door, her bare feet welcoming the feel of grass and earth, her skin coming alive with the night air, she felt a little thrill at her nakedness. She realized this was the first time she had ever felt she could do more than stand nude on a balcony outside. It was almost sexual, as though the night was caressing her, stimulating her cuntal passage, sucking her breasts. She walked slowly into the grove of trees between the house and the stream. Now the ground was covered with leaves, but was easy to walk on. She let a few low leaves touch her, again feeling a tingle in her groin. She reached behind her head and pulled the elastic band which held her ponytail in place. Her hair immediately spread out, brushing at her waist. It spread almost to the width of her shoulders, covering her back. Completely nude, she thought "Look at me, don't you like my body?". A little gust of wind seemed to answer "Yes".
She came to the shallow water gurgling lazily down the hill. A couple of rocks made little eddies that she could see reflecting the moonlight. As she waded in, the cold water thrilled her as it always had, awakening her senses. She waded to a deep spot, and sank to her back, then ducked her head under, wiping her face of the city's grime, running her fingers through her hair. The water felt incredibly erotic, so cold it was jangling her nerve ends. She massaged her titties, feeling the thrills radiating to her pussy, the nipples stiffened, the flesh tingling. Then she put both hands to her mound, jutting prominently out from her hips. Her labia were fat and large. Boys who got that far had always commented on what a sexy twat she had.
As she rubbed herself, she realized how turned on she had become, and a finger found her clitoris. It was also large, and she had never hesitated to masturbate, lacking any acceptance of society's efforts to stigmatize such pleasure. It also kept her from being a slave to men and their cocks. Her two index fingers went inside the heavy lips, and pinched together on the little nub. A jolt went through her, and she squeezed again. "Ummmm, fuck me, night." Another gust of wind. She climbed out of the stream, and toweled off, then lay on the matted leaves and began rubbing her hand up and down her slit, frictioning the love button hard. Then two fingers from her other hand dived in her hole, expanding it and making her clit jingle deliciously. "Aaagh, uumph, fuck."
She was out in the open, completely alone, and that added to the excitement she was causing in her cunt. She kept raising herself higher, celebrating her new home, her solitude, the sexy night. A light breeze kept her skin cool and alive, in her fevered mind the touch of the dark night air. She let herself cum, her cream gushing over her hand. She could smell the musk from it, and the thrills that shot through her body made her breathing heavy. She kept her fingers pulsing inside her, causing wave after wave of orgasm. A few boys had gotten her off better than her hand, but not many. She knew it was supposed to be best with another, but relied on her experience as in all things, and knew that only someone special could improve on this. She arched her hips and grinned at her pleasure.
Just as she began to come down, she heard a rustle in the woods, and a pair of yellow eyes appeared in the edge of the trees. She focused and saw a large grey wolf, red tongue hanging out, watching her intently. She had never been this close to one before, but felt no fear. If anything, his intense stare made her cunt tingle. She rolled over and got on her hands and knees, assuming his posture. How did she know it was a he, she wondered. But she was sure.
She listened for the low growl that might signal fear or anger, but heard only his rapid panting. Her breath was coming almost as fast from her climax, and the excitement of his nearness. Did he have a pack? Was it near here? She couldn't very well ask. The best thing to do was wait and not threaten. Her hair was hanging over her shoulders, starting to dry. Incredibly, she could feel cream leaking from her cunt. The wolf sniffed several times, still staring at her. Could he be smelling me creaming, she wondered. What an exciting thought.
A loud crack of a twig snapping broke the spell, and he turned and ran into the woods, up the mountain. The snap had come from behind her. She rose and faced that way, but heard only retreating shuffles. It sounded like a fox or a raccoon. There weren't any bears this far down, and she wondered why the wolf would have been frightened. Maybe just surprise.
She went back to the stream, staying longer, luxuriating in the cold water's touch. It was so sensually awakening, this whole sense of nakedness, of living in the forest, of returning to her primitive, animal roots. She wasn't the least bit tired now, and realized she felt like a run. She wondered if her old path was still there. Toweling off again, she walked back toward the house, and then to her right, searching for the worn trail through the brush. There it was, and didn't seem to be overgrown, as if it had been used. She tossed the towel back to the edge of the glade, and began to jog.
The path was easy to follow, and she knew it turned back about a mile from here. Her tits bounced as she ran, but she pulled her shoulders back, keeping the pert globes reasonably still. The friction of her thighs worked her pussy, but after ten minutes, she felt the high she always got from her pumping heart, and shook her head with pleasure. Her hair tossed about wildly, and she felt like a creature of the woods. She increased her pace, gasping with the exertion, but feeling the chemicals from her brain stimulating her. The liberating exercise was making her pussy cream, but she ran on, feeling an occasional pinch on her feet from needles or something on the trail. Before long, she would develop callus to make this easier. The two miles ended too quickly, and she vowed to explore for a longer track to use.
Merry ended up on the other side of her house, and could see the shape of it as she slowed to a walk, breathing hard, sweating a little, but enjoying the strain in her muscles, and the tautness of her whole body. She retrieved the towel, and returned to the stream, bathing once again. No wolf. Tiredness was now seeping into her, and she walked the hundred yards to home. She had hardly pulled the blanket over her bare skin when she was asleep.
Merry woke late, and spent the day in a trip to the store at the foot of the mountain, buying the various things she needed, then cleaning the house thoroughly. She finished about four, and took a nap. When she awakened, the first hint of night was starting, and she pulled off her shorts and halter. "Naked again" she marveled. She had talked quietly to herself all day, commenting on the pattern of dirt, muttering at the water heater, spending an hour making the plate glass windows sparkle, enjoying making an omelet for lunch. She felt at peace in a way she never had before. Anything seemed possible.
She decided to go for a long walk before dinner, using the light that was left to explore the area. She found several other trails, all looking used, but not recently. She was expert enough to be able to read any sign of humans, and there was none. Up the hill, she found an expanse of meadow that she thought was part of her property. Wolf spore hinted at a small pack. As she stood at the edge of the grassy field, she wondered if there were any eyes on her. She felt there were. Her nude body arched unconsciously, displaying herself wantonly. She squatted and peed on the trail toward home, marking her space. As she walked through the darkening forest, she saw a rabbit break cover and head unthinkingly into deeper brush. "Bad move" she whispered.
She began to track it, picking up a large stone from the edge of the path. It tried to hide in a hollowed tree, but she caught it just as it realized she had seen it, and she leaped on it, striking its head with the stone. She twisted its unconscious neck, killing it instantly. Carrying it home, she slit its throat and gutted it in the stream, then hung it by the back legs so the blood would drain. Some of the blood stained her hands, and she licked it off. The taste was salty. She cupped her hands to catch the dripping liquid, and sipped it. Mmmm.
Merry cooked the rabbit over a fire in the old barbecue pit in the glade. She loved the smell of the roasting meat in the dark, the smoke heating her bare skin. Sipping a beer, she didn't eat until almost midnight, slicing off hunks of meat, and using the knife as her only implement, devoured half the feast. She ate some potato chips as a complement, and made a small salad. "I must start a garden". As she put out the fire and stored the remaining meat in the fridge, the light when she opened the door startling her eyes, she wondered at her mother's wisdom. "She might have been shocked by my dress, though." she giggled to herself.
She went down to the stream. Her intuition seemed to be blooming with her liberated living, and she knew the animal would come. The idea excited her. After she bathed in the stream, she didn't even bother with a towel, letting herself dry as she lay beside the water, luxuriating in the sounds around her. Then she heard the rustle of a bush. Without even looking, she rolled to hands and knees again, facing the noise. The yellow eyes stared at her.
He had come out in the open, standing not ten feet away from her. Looking closely, she saw he was young, lacking scars or the yellow teeth that suggested age. He was sniffing the air, and she spread her knees apart on the matted leaves, letting her cunt breathe. Her breasts were hanging, the nipples hard. Cream was flowing with anticipation at the thrills she expected. The smell of her musk seemed stronger than before. Her whole body was keening with the sense of being an animal, crouching here in the wild with this creature. The moonlight bathed the little glen they were making their own, throwing shadows that made her groan. When he heard her, he took a step toward her, and she groaned again in anticipation.
Come fuck me, she thought. Use my body for your animal lust. Make me like you, wild and free. He took another step. She rotated around to expose her behind to him, sensing the excitement her pussy musk was causing. Oh god, this was such a turn on. She waited for some touch, some sign that she was not just imagining this seduction. She seemed to feel her whole body tensing with sensual want. She wiggled her ass at him, still aware of his panting. She thought it was getting heavier.
The rasping on her pussy came out of nowhere. She had not heard him move, but it was his tongue, licking from the fat labia back to her puckered asshole. A shudder ran through her groin. The tongue went back down to her clitoris, tasting her cream. She heard snuffling, and twisted around to see him sniffing at her. All her senses began to concentrate on her cunt, waiting for his next contact. It came with the same rasping, starting from her tender membranes that the stiff licking touched, to her dripping tunnel. If he didn't know now, he never would, she thought. Merry twisted to her back, drawing her legs up to expose her entire bottom to this wild animal.
He stared at her as she opened herself to him, wanting more of the licking he had begun. Now she could see the tongue, hanging there, moving with his breathing. It reached out once again to her pussy, drawing up from the tender flesh below her hole, between the labia, up to the clit. Merry groaned with the tingling he caused. He began to lick harder, causing her to begin humping her hips. The tongue was lapping powerfully between her pussylips, hitting her love button, making her gyrate and moan with lust. Her moaning did not seem to bother him, and the tongue kept working, spreading heat into her tummy.
He kept licking, beginning to sense that hitting her clit caused her the most pleasure, the most smell. Her mind began to spin out of control, heat surging through her, her hips bucking to his tongue. He was growling softly as he ate her out, his tongue beginning to enter the opening of her cuntal passage. The moonlight bathed them in soft gold, and his fur soothed her thighs. She felt lost in the passion building up in her, the sexy situation, the risk of giving herself to a wild thing. Her hands went to his head, smoothing spasmodically over the fur, and she pulled his head into her foaming pussy.
Merry was shaking her head, groaning loudly now, her legs on his back. Nothing kept the tongue from her membranes, the rough flesh stimulating her beyond her control. She started twisting and writhing, raising her head to stare at the wonderful animal who was the source of this erotic pleasure. She spoke out loud to him. "Oh you fantastic beast, get me, lick me, take me off. This is so good, so good. Oh that tongue. Eat me alive, devour me." He was trying to lick in her tunnel now, sensing its nerves, tasting its liquid. All the while, those yellow eyes never left hers.
She caught occasional glimpses of a red cock poking from under his belly. Each time she saw it, her tension rose, and it was becoming unbearably sweet. Her feet left his back and she used them to push her ass off the ground, bucking her hips at the maw raping her bottom. She could smell herself generating a heavy musk. Her moans echoed in the darkness. "I can't take any more, oh, oh, oh. Aaagh." Her orgasm was coming, the vibrating in her groin signaling release she was straining for. She would have died for it at that moment, as her groaning peaked to a howl of release.
Waves of sensation drove through her cunt as she climaxed powerfully, humping and bucking into the animal's maw. Her hips were off the ground, fucking into that wonderful feeling. Her mind was reeling with pictures of the wolf attacking her, chewing her flesh, ripping her apart. Then she began seeing them hunting together, blood flowing over their bodies as he snarled at her writhing. The jolts of electricity were filling her midsection, and she felt like a dam was bursting around her, bathing her in pleasure. Merry had become a frantic she beast, fighting for her release.
The wolf kept licking, even after she began to relax. As her hips rested on the forest floor, and her cream stopped flowing, he lifted his head in surprise, wondering what had happened to her wanton excitement. He began nudging at her pussy, and she realized he wanted her to move. He danced around a little, and she saw his prick sticking further out, its pointed head starting to poke at her skin. "You want to get off, don't you lover." She wondered if her now contracting twat could take it, but the thought of that long red prick got her tingling again.
She rolled over to her hands and knees, and his tongue began to once again minister to her behind. But there was something else she felt, hot and wet, poking at her thighs. She looked back and saw him bucking his hips at her bottom while trying to continue to tongue her. Then he stopped licking, and his paws went around her waist. He's going to fuck me, she thought. I can get off again with him inside me. An animal's cock. Inside an animal. "Rape me, my bestial lover. Do whatever you want to me, I'm yours to use, my pussy is yours" she babbled in passionate surrender.
She felt the pointed member poking around her ass cheeks, wetting with each touch. She wished she could see it. Suddenly, it got closer to her hairy mound, touching her labial folds, pricking at her pubic hair. She dropped her face to the ground and reached back to spread her cunt to his inexperienced searching. The paws moved up to her chest, and she felt the tips of his claws nudging the soft flesh of her tits. The slight pain made her hotter.
Then, in a rush, the point penetrated her tunnel, an inch or so at first, then she felt it surge all the way in. It was wider at the base than anywhere else, and stretched the mouth of her pussy, massaging her little love button. It caused an instant rising of her passion, sharp and sweet. The claws were all the way out, but just resting on her breasts, still causing little pinches. His cock began thrusting in and out frantically. He was growling louder now, and his tongue was licking the back of her neck through her mass of hair.
The fucking animal cock had her soaring again, and her hips bucked back to bury it deeper with each of his thrusts. His growling was getting louder, and his paws were gripping the sides of her chest tightly. The claws were still gently stinging. Heat was radiating out of her vagina into her tummy. Her breasts were squeezed into the dirt, forming pillows of soft flesh. The pointed prick was now causing her nothing but pleasure, erotic zinging filling her. Amazingly, she realized she could cum again without even trying.
The wolf's thrusts became frenzied, opening her up, twitching at her clitoris, fillling her body with ecstacy. Her head was shaking, and she growled in imitation of her lover. Her hands pushed herself off the ground a little, and more of his cock sunk into her. His tempo was impossibly fast. Then he froze, and howled with full voice. It must have been audible for miles. The surprise of the noise brought her off, the same release she had experienced from his tongue, but more powerful. Her skin felt like it was on fire, as she realized liquid was filling up her belly.
He was cumming in her, filling her tunnel with spunk. Wolf semen. Animal essence. Merrys' head sunk to the ground, as waves of excitement coursed through her. The wolf stayed inside her, still stretching her cuntal opening and zinging her button. But he was starting to shrink, letting the fluid inside her leak out. She kept keening wildly, though her climax was ending as well. The sensation was being replaced by a sense of relief and completion, as she felt the furry underbelly on her back.
Then he slipped out of her cunt, backed off her, and sunk to the ground, licking his cock. "A little after fuck hugging would have been nice." she sighed. But he was following his instincts. His prick was still jutting from its sheath as he licked their juices off. She reached down to her own source of their mixed fluids, and tasted them. She reached out and touched his belly. He stopped licking, and stared at her, the yellow eyes unblinking. But he was not growling.
She crawled over to him, and moved her mouth toward his cock. "I wonder if he understands" she thought. She got close enough to lick the red pole, and she heard him make a little squeak of pleasure. Encouraged, she sucked it all into her mouth, savoring the ruddy tang of its surface. She felt his tongue licking at her belly, the closest thing he could reach. She thought his cock might get hard again, but instead it drew out of her mouth into its sheath. "Too soon, I guess."
She rolled to her back and stared at the stars. The wolf kept licking at her body, her stomach, her tits, and then up to her face. She opened her mouth and closed her lips around the rubbery member, but he growled and pulled away. "No kissing, either." Her mind savored this fantastic fuck, its power, its erotic risk, and she found it even more pleasant because she knew society would have condemned this act. She luxuriated in the relaxation in her muscles, the wetness of her cunt, the tingling in her skin as a gentle breeze touched her. He had stopped licking her, and was just staring.
"I'm going to call you Lupe" she whispered to her incredible new lover.