FSE

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It's finally time to get some action going, and I am quite pleased with what's written below! I can only hope that you pervs are happy with it too. Oh, and introducing another major player ... Pietro.

Seven

His uncle's small bookshop had been closed in by a bakery on the left and the apothecary to the right. Its position in the town square was valuable, as was its reputation for good quality books and a wide enough selection which made it worth many a traveller's while. The villagers themselves provided a good percentage of sales, yet it was the many foreigners who journeyed to Alfiero's shop looking for hard to find books who made his modest fortune.

The pup had looked around, taking in the shops teeming with life. Growing up in his parents' cabin up in the mountains had meant being surrounded by a limited number of people, most of them anthromorphs. Down here it was different: there were as many humans as there was anthromorphs, if not more. He was bewildered at first but soon excitement set in as he walked into the bookshop. The young Oreste Montano was ready to begin his new life.

Eight

Bobby walked towards Professor Montano's house at a brisk pace. However, his mind was going much faster as he tried to find a way to come out to the wolf. He had no doubt that the Professor too was attracted to males, yet he did not know how he would react to what Bobby had to tell him, for a number of reasons. They were first and foremost student and teacher, and what Bobby was about to discuss with the lupine went way past the academic. Yet Bobby had often remarked how Professor Montano had used his literature lessons to help his students cope with life- he was a firm believer in education over teaching, and Bobby thought that this was just what he needed. The Latino had not given the wolf his father's old copy of King Lear by chance; he too needed someone to help him out because he could not find out who he really was. Although by now there was no hiding his orientation he still didn't know how to live it out fully.

Before he had decided on what to say, Bobby Camero found himself in front of his teacher's house. He stepped up to the door and rang the bell. As he waited for the door to open, he gulped once and made himself calm down. It would not help him to be nervous and flustered, and above all, it would not do to ruin this opportunity to start a new chapter of his life.

Nine

Oreste sank into his armchair, closed his eyes and was taken back to that distant past. He thought of how he had seen a car for the first time in his life, had experienced electricity. Then there were those first few days spent getting to know Uncle Alfiero's neighbours, who were now the young wolf's neighbours, too. There had been the old Gagliardi couple who lived a few metres away, the Bianchis who took care of the bakery and their two young pups, the parish priest and his house cleaner, and others who had faded from Oreste's memory. He would never forget, however, the pleasure he had felt in meeting so many new people. Growing up in a cabin and not meeting anyone else besides his family for weeks at an end was not easy for a people's person like young Oreste. Down in the village he had flourished, displaying a congenial personality that his uncle had only glimpsed previously. This was not to say that Oreste had not been pleasant to be around before, yet now he had come alive like never before.

The wolf was a tireless worker, taking his shifts in the bookshop eagerly and gladly running other errands for neighbours. Before long, Oreste had carved himself a niche in village life, making himself loved and appreciated. His keen mind was sharpened further through contact with many of the travellers who brought their custom to Alfiero's shop and with them interesting information to share with his enraptured young clerk. In time, Oreste used the collected titbits of knowledge as a means of exchanging intelligent conversation with the visitors and the villagers alike. His avid reading did nothing but help him grow stronger mentally, while the work he did in the fields kept his body fit.

Eight months after his arrival, the young wolf was collecting apples from the Moretti orchard, when he saw an older bear resting against one of the rubble walls. He was tall and dark-furred, looking slightly ominous in the bright sunlight. His broad shoulders were slouched forward in a relaxed pose, his paws stuck into the pockets of his torn, dusty trousers. His light shirt was in no better condition as it hung off the bear's shoulders, flapping open in the warm spring breeze. Oreste's eyes followed the swaying material's folds and caught a glimpse of strong curves that made up the bear's chest and belly. His face was lowered and a grey cap the likes of which Oreste had never seen any of the villagers wear covered the ursine's face. The bruin looked up, first at the apples in the basket on Oreste's back then he met the wolf's fixed gaze.

Oreste's breath caught in his throat and he dropped two apples he had been holding in his paws. There was a look in the bear's eyes which pierced the young wolf. It was one of those stares that he himself would eventually master in years to come. The kind of stare that could make you feel like you were being read into your very soul.

"Don't bruise the fruit. The Moretti's won't appreciate that".

His Italian was different and that alone was enough to catch Oreste's attention. However, it was the husky and gruff mix of his voice that brought the lupine back to the immediate reality. He bent over to pick the two apples he had dropped. They were not bruised too badly so he shone them on his white undershirt and placed them in the basket. The wolf approached the bear, not letting his eyes off him for a second. "Who are you?" he asked.

The bruin straightened up and Oreste's sharp nose caught a waft of his scent. It held an overwhelming muskiness that drove the wolf crazy. Beneath it, he detected something strange that confirmed his feeling that the anthro was not local. There was the smell of the earth on him, no doubt, yet it was not the same soil of the mountains.

"I'm the new farm hand"

Oreste had heard the Moretti family discuss this possibility a few weeks previously. They wanted to expand their farm and the work was becoming more than the wolf could handle alone, even though he had never complained. He knew the farmers would not send him away. They were, after all, the ones who had asked him to take up the job four months before and they knew he enjoyed it. The farm work offered him a little money on the side, as well as the opportunity to do something more physical than looking after his uncle's shop. It reminded him of shepherding his father's sheep, and it kept him in shape. He had already bulked up a bit, and Oreste felt great.

The wolf put down the wicker basket and held out his right paw. "I'm Oreste."

The bear looked at it and grinned at Oreste, taking in a very tight handshake. "I'm Peter, or Pietro if you prefer".

Oreste made it a point to squeeze hard before dropping the handshake and looked the bear in the eye. "You're not from these parts, are you?"

"No, I'm not". Pietro shook his large head slowly and pointed his arm southwards. The farm was at the outer limits of the village, separated from the other villages and a few cities by a small forest, through which a rough path wove. Oreste had been into the forest yet never out through the other end. Some day he would have to see what was on the other side; for the moment it seemed he had found another traveller to share stories with.

This initial friendliness had not lasted long. Pietro was not easy to deal with at first and the more Oreste tried to wheedle information out of him, the more reclusive the bear seemed to become. The wolf kept his ears alert for any telltale sound in Pietro's speech which might help identify his origins. The "Peter" he had given was an English name, as Oreste found out in his books, yet it could place the ursine in a whole array of different countries. He tried matching the ursine's physical features to the photos in old newspaper cutting, attempting to find a match with someone from an other country. After a few weeks, the wolf found himself constantly doodling the farmhand's portrait, sketching his handsome features onto paper. He would start with a large, squat ellipse that would soon have a muzzle, eyes, and ears added to it. Then the details would be refined as Oreste drew the bushy eyebrows over obsidian dark eyes that sparkled occasionally, the thick silver earring on his left ear, the chiselled chin covered in a dark black goatee with a few silver hairs, the elegant but unkempt sideburns over his firm jaw line. He had been almost spotted by his uncle Alfiero a few times, yet he always managed to stuff the drawings into his trouser pockets. He didn't know exactly why he felt such guilt in doing the portraits, but he was sure that what he felt for the bear was not natural. If anyone in the village caught wind of his strange feelings about Pietro, he was sure he'd get into trouble.

The arrival of summer had meant a marked increase in both men's workload as the land yielded more fruit than before. Oreste had learnt to communicate with the bear in a most minimal manner. They had developed a system of gestures which got the job done, yet it made Oreste feel cheated. He was spending a lot of time with the bear but knew close to nothing about him. There were moments where the young wolf would look at his companion, admiring the way Pietro's body flexed while he worked, and he would play possible backgrounds for the bear in his mind. Pietro knew his job very well, so the wolf always projected him into situations which would have helped him develop this affinity with nature. Oreste's favourite was thinking of the bear as being the son of some rich agriculturist in some far away country. It would have to be a cool place, somewhere that made it necessary to have such a thick coat. He would imagine the bear going to work with the rest of the farmhands, even though it was no expected of him. Pietro, who's real name would be Peter or something else which sounded well-bred, would not face living in comfort. For him, being in touch with nature is as much as way of life as... At this Oreste would get stuck, or else he would be distracted by the moment when Pietro took off his sweat-drenched shirt and throwing it around his neck, to dry off while keeping him cool. Late at night, the image of the bare-chested farmhand would visit Oreste, teasing him and provoking him. He would close his eyes and see, in his mind's eye, those muscles pumping smoothly. He thought of the way Pietro's trousers hugged his tight butt when he bent over to sow something, or the cute way in which he rolled them up when irrigating the fields.

One mid-June afternoon, the two had finished their work earlier than expected. They had lunch in the shade found beneath a haystack, talking about the plans for the following day. Oreste had not given up on getting to know more about Pietro, but he had changed strategy- he had learned that if guided more subtly the bear tended to open up on his own. He had had no luck in getting him to talk about his past, but today he was interested in other things.

"Are you going to the Summer Festival next week?"

The bear bit into half a loaf of bread and chewed messily. He swallowed and said, "I might. Are you going?"

Oreste rested his back against the haystack and munched on a green apple. He looked up at the fluffy clouds up in the azure skies and thought about the Festival. He had never been to one, and all the villagers seemed eager for it to finally happen. "I guess I will. I've never been to one before."

Pietro grunted and finished off the loaf, taking a bit of salami with it. He was in a good mood, obviously glad at the opportunity to take things easy. Oreste couldn't blame him; with the heat they were having lately it wasn't much fun working the fields. The villagers were not used to such heat and it was taking its toll on many of them. Some were light-headed, as if drunk on beer. Others feinted and others still couldn't think or act straight. At least most of the anthromorphs had shed some fur, but the humans were not coping so well. From what Oreste learnt, it was the hottest summer in over twenty-three years. He turned his head lazily towards the bear, catching the scent which had now become so familiar to him. "Thinking of taking anyone to the evening dance?"

Pietro suddenly looked somewhat irritated and gave him a look that was partly annoyed, and said, "I don't dance".

Oreste knew he was not to pursue the topic and straightened up. The two split a melon amongst themselves and started enjoying its cool, watery flesh. A sip of fresh water and they were ready to leave. They packed away the tools and collected the remainder of their lunch. Oreste threw the apple peel and melon rinds into the nearest field. He saw no use in waste; they would provide the soil with extra nutrients. By three in the afternoon, they had started on their way back.

They reached the farm hand's cabin a few minutes later and Oreste helped Pietro carry in the tools. The threadbare house was small but cosy, helped greatly by the ursine's sense of decoration which Oreste found to be subtle yet pleasing. It was a bit like the bear himself, as the young wolf saw him. There were times when you couldn't get a word out of him, and he'd seem as harsh as the cabin's stone walls. Then there were the occasions where the two would be taking a break from their work, sitting under one of the trees in the orchard and just talking about things. Oreste would take the opportunity to get to know the bear better, gleaming little bits of information wherever possible. There was no hiding that he was fascinated by Pietro, although he didn't know what to do with this fact. The cabin floor was covered with deep red carpets, which in turn were covered in dust. The scarce furniture was of a light wood that gave the place warmth and added its own scent to the overpowering and exhilarating muskiness of the bear which pervaded the whole place.

The wolf placed the tools in a small closet by the door and then went towards a sink to wash his paws from the soil still on them. He went past the table and the single bed beneath the window, washed his paws and dried them on a torn dishrag. As he made his way back towards the door where Pietro was down on one knee, cleaning his shoes, Oreste's eyes fell on a photo laying on top of the bear's unmade bed. He picked it up and saw a considerably younger Pietro looking back at him, accompanied by a large ursine who could easily have been his father, and another bear. All three were smiling and were dressed in light suits and were in front of what seemed to be a cinema. This was definitely not in Italy, but perhaps it was America.

The bear Oreste was assuming to be Pietro's father had one arm slung over the younger ursine and the other arm over the small Kodiak bear. The older grizzly was grinning amiably, beaming with pride as the cinema behind then shone in bright neon lights, illuminating the three furries from behind. The photo suffered from this but the lupine still managed to make out the glimmer in the big bear's eyes, even as his fedora hat cast some shadow on his face. Oreste's eyes now focused on the smallest bear of them all, the Kodiak... he looked cute, almost childish if not for the brown goatee beneath his chin. He had beautiful, shiny eyes that were full of life and his smile warmed Oreste's heart. He turned towards Pietro who was almost done with his shoes, and called out.

"Pietro? Who are these two bears next to you?"

The dark bear looked up and when he saw the photo in the young lupine's paw he got up. "What the fuck are you doing touching my stuff?" he growled.

Oreste startled and let the yellowing photograph flutter down to the floor. He looked at the farm hand's glare and at the intimidating exposed fangs. Pietro's paws were fisted at his sides and he was closing in on Oreste. "Are you deaf, boy? I said what the fuck are you doing touching my stuff without my permission?"

The wolf had never seen Pietro so angry, and his first instinct was to panic, but he could not understand what he had done to merit such a reaction so he made himself stay calm. "I'm sorry, I was only looking at this photo. It was there on the bed, so it's not like I went through your stuff." He made sure to keep any impertinence out of his voice and looked Pietro straight in the eyes.

This disarmed the bear and his anger dissipated. He was still far from being calm and his fists were still tightly bunched up. Oreste bent over to pick the photo he dropped, and handed it to the large ursine.

"I'm guessing that guy over there is your dad, but I don't know who the smaller bear is. And that's definitely not Italy, is it?"

Pietro looked down at the photo that looked like a tiny postcard cradled in his trashcan lid sized paws. Oreste detected sadness creeping over the bear's features, replacing the anger.

"Yes, that's my father. And no, that's not Italy. It's America."

The traces of a foreign accent suddenly made sense to Oreste, and it was no real surprise that the older grizzly bear was Pietro's father. But what about the Kodiak with the sweet smile?

"Who's the other ursine?"

Pietro lifted his gaze from the photo and looked at Oreste. His brow furrowed, and he appeared to be making a decision. The bear's lips worded a silent phrase, then another as he tried on different ways of saying what he wanted to, yet nothing must have seemed right to him. His face turned stony and then he said, "He was a friend of mine".

Oreste was not convinced. Something was on Pietro's mind, and he was obviously upset. He had never seen the big guy in such a state and his conscience would not allow him to just walk away without offering any help. He placed his left paw on Pietro's muscley arm and said softly, "Pietro, what's wrong?"

The grizzly bear pulled his arm away and spun on his heel to face Oreste. His voice was little more than a hiss filled with newfound anger. "Where do you get off poking your muzzle in other people's business, wolf? Tell me that. Why have you done nothing but ask questions since I arrived?"

Now Oreste was flustered. His good intentions had backfired and he didn't know what to do next. So the obvious happened and he said, truthfully, "Because I care about you!"

His words hung in the air. Neither reacted to what had been said and an awkward silence came to be. The grizzly bear's shoulders sank slightly as his anger ebbed again, as suddenly as it had flowed into him. Oreste gulped in anxiety, as he was unsure of how Pietro had taken his statement.

Pietro's eyes were fixed on the young wolf who was now sweating profusely at the forehead. He placed the photo on the table, if only as an excuse to walk and get away from the uncomfortable hush. The bear stayed with his back to Oreste.

"People who like me usually get in trouble," Pietro said, still not facing Oreste. He raised the old photograph and turned it around so that the wolf could see one of his digits covering the image of the Kodiak. "Ask him and he'll tell you."

"What-?"

Pietro turned around and took one long stride towards Oreste. "I'll tell you what, kid. We were lovers; my father found us out and that was that." The bear lowered his face so that his muzzle was barely an inch from Oreste's. "Understand what now?"

The young wolf's jaw had dropped open and his eyes had gone wide. He stammered a bit and then shook his head in order to shake himself out of it. "You... He... You two... made love to each other?"

Even so many years later, Oreste would feel his cheeks turn red in embarrassment for having said that. He had felt attracted by the farm hand from the first moment, but he had never so much as imagined the possibility of two men doing what married males and females did together. He wouldn't even have thought of the sex act at all if his uncle hadn't sat him down for a talk one day. For all the books he had read, Oreste was still innocent in many ways and he had never given his feelings much thought. Now, as he thought of Pietro and the Kodiak naked and doing - well, doing something together - he was confused but also aroused.

The grizzly bear stared at Oreste for a moment, and then he burst laughing. "For all your book smarts you're telling me that you haven't ever- ?" His gaze fell down, settling on the front of the wolf's trousers. "Oh"

Oreste looked down at his bulge and when he again faced upwards towards Pietro, he was sweating. He stammered something inaudible and made to leave the cabin. As hurried on his way to the door, the bear reached out an arm, blocking the passage.

"Kid. Not so fast."

Pietro grabbed the front of Oreste's shirt in his fists and pulled him towards him. The young wolf didn't know whether to pull back or not. He was fairly sure that if he did opt for that course of action and that was not the grizzly bear's will, he would probably not make it easy for him if. For the second time that day he found himself muzzle to muzzle with the farm hand, although now he read something very different from anger in those black eyes.

"Have you ever kissed a male before?"

Oreste could only shake his head feebly. This could not be happening. Not here, not now, and above all not with this bear. All that he had felt for him and which he could not explain to himself had suddenly become clear, and it was terrifying. He couldn't feel this way about Pietro! But... why not? He was so handsome, standing there with the late afternoon sun coming in behind him. He was breathtaking in so many ways beyond the physical: that mercurial character of his, for one. Sometimes friendly, sometimes hostile, but always intense.

"No. No one"

Before he knew it, Pietro had leaned in and pressed his lips against Oreste's. In hindsight, it had not been the most romantic way of getting a first kiss, but it was passionate and it overwhelmed the young wolf. Pietro placed his broad paws on Oreste's sides and pulled him in closer. The wolf's surprise gave way to a sense of warmth and he began to melt into the kiss. He felt the bear's tongue brush against his lips, and instinctively opened his mouth. As Pietro's tongue moved in to explore, Oreste's returned the movement tentatively.

Oreste would never have been able to say how long the kiss had lasted, not even under pain of torture, but as it broke off he had felt a sharp sadness. Pietro never gave it time to set in; he picked the lupine in his arms and carried him towards the bed. The bear sat down, placed Oreste next to him, and then he got up and climbed on top of his young companion, showering him with more passionate kisses. His breath caught and at that moment, Pietro's caresses grew rougher, more urgent. He began to paw at the smaller wolf's clothes, pulling his shirt out of his trousers and then off his body. Oreste was beginning to feel the same urge surge through his body, and he offered no resistance as the shirt was pulled over his head, most of the buttons still undone.

Pietro's large head dived into Oreste's chest, and he felt soft lips caress his dark fur, where years later an older wolf would start noticing the occasional silver hairs, courtesy of his thirty-sixth birthday. However, the young Oreste's mind was on entirely different matters at that moment. With Pietro's mouth sucking at his chest, and the bear's powerful legs and body all around him, Oreste was lost in a sea of sensations. As soon as he felt the bear's front teeth clasp around his left nipple, he gasped and his body went rigid for a second, but as lips settled around the fleshy projection and soothed it, he relaxed.

The ursine worked his mouth eagerly and his paws were not to be put to shame either. They were firm on Oreste's sides, rubbing him sensually while the rest of Pietro moved on top of him. The grizzly's hips were thrusting gently at Oreste's, already a few steps ahead of their owner. The resulting friction, coupled with that of Pietro's rough paws on his body were ecstasy and as each panting breathe made him inhale more of the ursine's scent, Oreste moaned.

For a split second, his delirious mind projected a memory from his puphood. It was the dark-furred face of his father, grotesquely enlarged. And then it retreated, becoming normal in size again. Suddenly it became clear: Pierro was tickling a very young Oreste. The wolf cub was giggling so hard! These tickling sprees had characterised the wolf's cubhood, had coloured them with the warmth of family life that, there, lost in the throes of his first passionate relation, Oreste realized he missed. He was sad, because he knew that another era of his life was going to end that day. He would no longer belong to the world of innocence after this encounter with Pietro. Even though he had left the cabin and the mountains in exchange for life in the town, it was only on this day that Oreste would be closing that sweetest of chapters in his life.

Pietro's heavy sigh brought him back to that reality, and as he became fully aware of the bear's presence and the meaning of what they were doing, it struck Oreste how each ending is a new beginning. For weeks, he had had feelings for the bear and now he was acting on them. Perhaps this was love, the famous and infamous love, even if it was between two males. Oreste thought Pietro and the Kodiak must have been in love, so surely the grizzly bear knew what he was doing. With a bittersweet smile on his muzzle, Oreste nuzzled the big bear's neck, adding some tenderness to the passion.

Pietro's frenzy was far from appeased, but still he returned the wolf's gesture. They kissed again, and took the time to look into one another's eyes. Without uttering a word, Pietro dug his arms under Oreste and hugged him hard. Then, the wolf felt himself being turned around briefly, only to find that Pietro was now lying with his back on the bed. The lupine's legs dangled over the bear's sides, and he realized that he was astride of him. Oreste smiled down at the big bear, and was greeted with a warm grin. The bear grasped Oreste's paws into his own and led them to the buttons of his dusty shirt. With a slight tremor and with the breath caught in his throat, Oreste undid the first button, the one that was actually the third, since Pietro never closed his shirt completely. These little details all burned in Oreste's mind, little gems of knowledge that he had collected and that had made him feel so close to the bear. Now he was taking the discovery to the ultimate level, one button at a time.

With the last one undone, Oreste flipped the garment open and ran his paws over Pietro's dirty off-white sleeveless undershirt. How many times had he seen the bear working the field in this shirt, sweat pouring out of him as his muscled torso beat beneath the thin fabric? Now he was all in front of him, beneath him actually, and he was all for Oreste. Just as Oreste was all for Pietro. This struck him as nothing less than sheer beauty and he was filled with a sense of warmth. He slipped a paw underneath the shirt and felt Pietro's firm tummy muscles. He inserted another and they both ran parallel as they raced for the sweet curves of the grizzly bear's chest.

Pietro propped himself on his elbows and Oreste started to pull the sleeveless undershirt off. When the time came, Pietro lifted his arms and the shirt was cast onto the floor, next to the wolf's, followed by his trousers which he has shaken off. Oreste stared in awe at the muscles on the bear's upper body. He was nothing short of a work of art, and to be in the presence of such beauty touched Oreste. The bear saw the look of awe in his companion's eyes and smiled. He remembered the first time he had felt another fur's naked body against his, and understood what Oreste must have been feeling. But lust was rampant in the bear's whole being, lust for the cute wolf that Pietro had liked, a bit too much perhaps, resulting in his sometimes aggressive defence under the form of keeping distance. Yet the wolf had said he liked him, and here he was... on top of him, staring at his sculpted chest while Pietro looked at the lupine's lean muscles, already on their way to becoming more impressive, the product of intense physical work.

The bear's paws dug into the seat of Oreste's pants, tugging them down along with his boxers and the wolf lifted himself up, getting out of the crumpled garments. Pietro's eyes followed the lupine cock as it sprang out of its restrains. Oreste was surprisingly hung, his sheath thick and his furry balls plump. He was already fully erect, the tip of his member not so much peeking out of its sheath as it was throbbing. It was a deep red, shining with a mixture of sweat and pre-cum. The ursine licked his lips. It had been so long since he'd held a hard cock in his mouth, just sucking on it blissfully ... He raised his butt an inch from the mattress and pulled down his own pants, kicking them off with his feet and almost tipping Oreste over as the wolf grabbed as much chest hair as he could to stay astride the bear.

The young wolf did not know what was expected of him at that moment, but he wasn't worried. He was enjoying his sudden nakedness too much to be bothered. He had had boners before but this erection had been especially painful, and no wonder he told himself as he looked down at the naked bear beneath him. Oreste rested his paws flatly on Pietro's chest, excited by the semi-rough fur and the hardness of the flesh beneath. He leant in to kiss him again, and was met with Pietro's tongue as it slipped expertly into Oreste's muzzle. At the same time, Pietro's paws clamped onto Oreste's butt cheeks, cupping them, squeezing them and then letting go. The wolf writhed on top of the brawny bear, feeling his body mash against the ursine and their tongues seemed to meld into one another.

After a while, it was Pietro who broke the kiss as he told Oreste to place his knees on either side of his face. Oreste obeyed and was rewarded with a sensation he had never thought possible as Pietro wrapped his lips around the lupine cock. The young wolf wanted to scream "Oh gods!" but no coherent words could come out. He looked down as his cock disappeared down Pietro's maw and he caught the bear's gaze. He was looking straight up at him, looking him right in the eyes and there was such a look of deviousness in his dark orbs that Oreste was both ashamed and excited. He thrust his hips downwards, sending his cock further into Pietro's warm mouth until he felt his pubes make contact with the front of the bear's muzzle. Instinct took over and he started the rhythmic thrusting pattern of lust.

The huge grizzly bear slide his tongue inside Oreste's slit, tasting the sweet precum that his partner was leaking in considerable amounts. The taste took his mind back to a time when he would have been sucking Jeremy off behind his father's barn. The smell of hay and the sound of chirping cicadas would accompany their forbidden encounters. Here he was once more in a forbidden encounter, exposing the young wolf to a world he probably had not even ever suspected existed. He had not touched another male in a very long time, but as he held the lupine's flesh in his paws and a warm cock in his mouth, feeling more alive than he had in years, Pietro felt doubt race briefly through his mind. What was he doing to Oreste? He had not shown it openly, but he had grown to care for the young wolf in his own way. And this was how he was treating him? Like a piece of meat, there to satisfy his sexual cravings? Pietro was about to stop it all when Oreste gave a wild, primitive howl of pure pleasure. Anthromorphic wolves rarely howled, no matter what kind of stereotypes humans may have sustained. Even Pietro knew that. To have Oreste express himself in that way was precisely what was needed to clear the bear's doubts.

He withdrew his mouth and said, "Like that, don't ya?"

Oreste half smiled and half grinned down at the bear. "Why are you stopping?"

Pietro grinned roguishly back and got back to it, sending Oreste to previously inexperienced heights of pleasure. The wolf thrashed on top of the bed, and wrapped his legs around the bear's neck. The grizzly slid an arm under the wolf's back and lifted him effortlessly upwards, making it easier to deep throat his young partner. Oreste shuddered as the tip of his cock reached the back of the bear's hot throat. He felt fangs at the sides of his shaft's base and he was sent into a frenzy by the tightness all around his member. Amidst the overwhelming sensations around his cock, which took up most of his attention, he was shocked to feel something prodding against his muzzle. It was Pietro's own tremendous hard-on, begging for attention of the same kind Oreste had just been enjoying. The young wolf felt daunted by his partner's dimensions but was excited by the prospect of tasting the throbbing flesh which entranced his nose with its scent.

He gave the grizzly's enormous cock a ginger lick and savoured the taste, as Pietro was surprised by the sudden wetness around his heat. It was not any kind of taste he could have expected, and although it was strange, it was not unpleasant on the wolf's wide tongue. Oreste opened his muzzle to accommodate the bear's cock and slid his lips around the powerful member, as the ursine's body shuddered with pleasure against him. With the wolf's cock still in his mouth, Pietro could only give muffled gasps of pleasure as he felt his member slide into another male's mouth for the first time in years. Rapid images of his last encounter ran through his head, images of a drunken fox he had met at a bar in Iowa... A farmer who had been in the same state of depression Pietro had found himself in that day. Or rather, Peter, as he had been known back then.

Yes, back then. It felt so long ago right now. So long ago since he and the fox had shared their problems over a bottle of cheap whiskey which would never win prizes for its taste, but which had managed to make the two sufficiently drunk as to be explicitly honest to each other...