FSE

Furry search engine

formerly SoFurry search engine

In the Grove

The sign said, "No minors beyond this point." It hung on a tall chain link fence a gate that separated the Serra Vista public park from the private property beyond. The park itself was very lightly wooded and manicured within an inch of its life. Beyond the fence the forest ran wild.

Roger Ivy read the sign from some distance away. He was a weasel-aspect, though his father had always insisted on calling him a stoat. Personally, he found that pretentious, but he never said so in the old man's hearing. Of middling height, swimming kept him very trim. His fur was orange everywhere but a wide white stripe in front from his throat to his crotch. The black thick framed glasses he wore often drew jokes that he was really a ferret. He bore them with the best humor he could manage, though he'd heard them all a thousand times before the latest comic genius convinced himself he had new version. Switching to lighter frames might have helped there, but he didn't quite trust himself not to break them.

He had read that sign many times growing up. The first time he'd seen it, he'd asked his father what it meant and what was on the other side. His father had dodged the question, reiterating that it meant that people as young as him weren't allowed in there. When Roger had pressed, he was told to ask again when he was older. He never did ask again.

Over the years, he saw grown ups pass through the gate, sometimes alone, sometimes as couples. Every once in a while an entire party would pass through, laughing and carrying on as if they were going to a party. Once he got old enough to become interested in sex he started getting an inkling of what those people were doing on the other side of the fence. His friends all developed the same theories over time. There were only so many things kids weren't allowed to do that adults were and they could be eliminated easily enough.

Once, on a dare, he sneaked through the gate and scouted out the other side. It had been a slow day, apparently. After watching it for an hour and seeing only one couple go in, he felt safe enough to make his move. He dashed through the gate and into the undergrowth, doing his best to stay hidden. Using all the stealth he possessed, he crept through the thick forest until he finally found what he had expected to see.

The memory was indelibly etched in his brain. He remembered it all to the smallest detail. She had solid black fur from her whiskers to her toes. He had the typical deer coloring and had his antlers neatly groomed short to a single branch. They hadn't tried to find even a semi-private place. Standing directly on a path that wound through the property, they were fucking like wild animals, her hands braced against a tree. They were completely naked, their clothes strewn about in their apparent haste to get down to business. He stared for just a few minutes, before he came to his senses and realized that he really needed to get out of there. Being confronted by what really went on there made him understand how much trouble he could get into for being there. Luckily, he encountered no one on his way out and as far as he knew, no one but his friends ever knew he was there.

That had been a few years ago. Now that sign no longer applied to him. Still, he hesitated to actually pass through that gate. It wasn't a sense of shame. No one hid when they went into what was locally called the Grove. No one stopped and furtively looked around so make sure they weren't seen going in or coming out. It wasn't a virgin's nervousness. Roger hadn't been a virgin for years, he had plenty of friends that were willing to swap an orgasm for an orgasm. But it was one thing to have sex with someone you knew in a private setting, it was something altogether else to fuck out in the open in the woods with a stranger. He would have liked to come with a friend or two, but no seemed to be really interested in the place but him.

On top of that, he could conjure up a dozen embarrassing possibilities he could encounter on the other side. What if he ran into somebody he knew? Did he want to walk around a tree and be confronted with the sight of his seventh grade teacher bent over a fallen log taking it like a champ? Or worse, if they ran in to him in a similar position. Monday morning would be pretty awkward if he encountered a coworker or a customer in there in a compromising position. Sex might not be heavily stigmatized, but it was still considered private and personal for the most part. Did he really want to share his with the world, even the relatively small subset of it that used the Grove?

In his heart, he knew the answer was yes. The idea of being seen and of seeing others who wanted to be seen was very exciting to Roger. But it seemed like a fairly large step that could never be taken back. Sure, he could just go, walk around and see the sights without really participating himself, but that wasn't what he wanted. It was that final thought that made up his mind. It was what he wanted and yeah, there were possible negative consequences, but they were mostly in his mind. Who cares what others might think or about momentary awkwardness? It's not like anyone he encountered in there would be in any position to judge him anyway.

He strode through the gate like he'd done it a hundred times before instead of just the once. True, he made a cursory check to be sure no one was directly looking, but then, nobody likes to be stared at.

There was a sign just beyond the gate, angled so that it couldn't be read from outside. It said, "Rules: 1. Consent. Consent. Consent. 2. Discretion. Discretion. Discretion. 3. Have Fun." He hadn't seen it the first time he'd been inside. His attention was on other things. They certainly seemed like good rules to him, though he wondered how they would be enforced. He hadn't thought about it until just that second, but what kind of protection was there in a place like this? Who enforced the rules? Did they just run off the honor system?

A little farther on, just after a sharp bend in the path was another sign, facing the other way. This one read, "No nudity beyond this point. Violators will be prosecuted." Somebody had scrawled, "(if caught)" after 'Violators'. Well, that explained why he'd never seen anything out of the ordinary through all his time watching the entrance to the Grove. As he passed the sign, he realized this was actually the place he'd encountered the lovers the time he'd sneaked in. They'd literally started having sex at the earliest allowed opportunity. When he had been younger, it had seemed like he'd gone in much deeper, but there was no doubt that this was the place.

Up ahead, another sign was posted, this one by a path branching off. "Lockers," it said. He followed the branch. As the sign indicated, a clearing was carved out of the forest and a row of lockers and a bench stood in the center of it. There were signs warning of time limits and that lockers were used at your own risk. They were the kind they used at water parks and the like, with the orange key on the elastic lanyard. Roger was tempted to go full nudist and strip off right there before he continued his exploration, but chose against it. As exciting as the thought was, it was giving up a little more control than he was ready for at the moment. Maybe next time.

As he returned to the main path, he encountered his first other person since he'd entered the grove. He was a gray furred man, skinny and small with the aspect of what Roger took to be a rat. Other than the orange key he wore around his bicep, he was stark naked. He wasn't even wearing shoes. Roger's attention was arrested by the man's cock. Completely flaccid, it looked to be about seven inches long, which meant that on that rat's body, it looked big enough to gag a whale.

"Sorry, buddy," he said, "but I'm all tapped out."

"Huh?" Roger said.

"I don't think I'll be able to get it up again or a week, at least. But don't worry, there's still plenty of dicks back there," he hooked his thumb over his shoulder. Then he looked Roger up and down, "or whatever else you're looking for. Hey, I've never seen you in here."

Roger found it completely surreal that he was standing on a forest path and talking to a fully nude stranger who didn't seem to think there was anything odd whatsoever about their meeting.

"No, it's my first time," Roger said after a moment when he realized he was expected to answer. "I'm old enough," he added, more defensively than he'd intended. The man with the rat aspect laughed.

"I don't doubt it, kid. Oh, I probably shouldn't have called you that, huh? Didn't mean to be disrespectful. Anyway, a word of advice. Stick to what you know. If somebody offers you something or suggests something and you don't know what it is, get an explanation or get the fuck away. Oh, and if you get in any kind of trouble, shout for help. There's no guarantee anyone will hear you, but if anyone does, they'll come and help. Most people are well behaved, but there's no real way to keep the shits out and despite what the sign out front says, consent doesn't mean the same thing to everybody."

"Okay," Roger said, hesitantly. Suddenly the Grove seemed a little more frightening than it had before. The rat laughed again.

"Hey, relax, I didn't mean to scare you. You'll have fun, I promise." He slapped Roger on the shoulder and continued on to the lockers.

"Oh," the rat said, Roger turned to face him. "Watch out for the Big Bad Wolf. He'll huff and puff blow your little mind." He laughed and turned the corner that took him out of sight.

"Wait, was that a warning or a recommendation?" Roger called, but the rat was gone.

The path continued for only a short while before it began branching off. He stayed on the main path out of fear of getting lost or turned around. Besides, he told himself, he was more likely to encounter others on the main path. It was probably safer too.

It did become a little livelier then. He passed by a couple wearing nothing but tennis shoes, arms wrapped possessively around each others' waists. They seemed friendly enough, greeting him as he walked by, but they obviously weren't looking for company. The next person he met was also stark naked and Roger wondered if he had made a mistake staying dressed. Too late to worry about that now, since he wasn't turning back nor was he willing to carry his clothes around with him and he certainly wasn't going to just leave them somewhere. His worries proved unfounded when the next three people he met were fully clothed.

He had imagined this place, especially after his brief incursion those years ago, as a den of wild, open sex, but so far it seemed much more like a nudist friendly nature trail. Was it because he was still on the main path? Was the couple he'd seen before the exception and not the norm and people generally avoided fucking on the main path? It made sense to Roger. He could easily imagine that most people wanted a little more control over their encounters. The place was big enough that if you chose your spot carefully, you could probably avoid just about everyone and have your screw in the great outdoors without having the entirety of the great outdoors watching you.

The more he thought about it, the more he realized that there was probably a whole culture surrounding this place. There was probably a place where those looking exclusively for the company of men would gather, a place for the group sex seekers, a place for the quiet couples looking to avoid too much attention. There was probably a way to signal to people that you were down a certain path and you were interested in a specific act, or that a specific spot was taken, move along please. He payed more attention to the branches he passed, but he didn't see anything of that nature, not that he really knew what to look for.

After about fifteen minutes more of walking, Roger decided his hunch was correct and that the majority of the action happened off the main path. With nothing else to guide his course, he chose the next side path to follow. He noticed an immediate change. It was darker, the path was less clearly cut and it seemed the sound of his footfalls was deadened by the undisturbed fallen leaves.

He was suddenly struck by how big this place really was. Even if the paths were cleverly twisted around themselves to make them appear longer than they actually were and taking into account how short the distance he could actually see was, there still had to be acres of land in the Grove. Along with that thought, he wondered if he actually had a chance at an encounter off the main path. There was a lot of area to cover and there just wasn't evidence of a big enough population to fill it. Maybe he'd gone in too far before he'd turned off. It would make sense for more people to be closer to the entrance. Probably the only people who bothered to come out this far were the nudists who just wanted to hike and the couples who wanted it both ways when it came to public exposure and privacy. The more he thought about it, the more he felt that he had made a mistake by going so deep into the Grove.

"Hey kid."

Roger stopped in his tracks, his head snapping back and forth, trying to find the source of the voice. It was deep and gravely and it had a hint of menace that raised Roger's hackles.

"I'm over here, kid. Don't be scared, I'm not going to hurt you."

Roger finally found the source of the voice, off the path to the left. He couldn't make out much in the dimness of the forest. Mostly what he saw was a pair of yellow eyes that caught the light and a shadow that seemed as big as the trees that surrounded it.

"Hi," Roger said. He didn't know what else to say. He had an inkling that if he hadn't said 'hi' he would have said, 'aaaaaahhhhhh' and run back the way he came.

"Are you lost? Not many come this deep into the Grove all alone."

"I don't think I'm lost," Roger said. The voice actually sounded concerned, which put him at ease somewhat.

"Not lost, eh? Then you must really be in search of adventure if you've come this far without finding what you're looking for."

"I don't know about that. It's just my first time here and I was exploring."

"That's exactly what I'm talking about. Exploring." The shadow moved, the eyes moved with it. It was a very strange thing. When he'd first seen them, they'd stood higher than he did, but now that they were moving, they seemed to be more at waist level. Were they crawling or something? Weird.

"I'm not, like, looking for anything really freaky," Roger said, "I mean, it's not like I passed up on normal stuff, I think I just stayed on the main path too long and missed it all. I haven't seen anything more extreme than naked hiking so far."

"Most people don't bother coming any farther than the first branch after the lockers. Few are really interested in exploring this place, finding out what it has to offer them. It's the rare one indeed who comes this deep. You're a lucky man, to choose to come down this path out of all the paths you could choose."

"Lucky?" Roger asked. He didn't mean to sound incredulous, the word had come out of his mouth before he'd really had a chance to think about it. "I mean--"

"I know exactly what you mean. You don't know what I'm talking about. Maybe lucky isn't the right word, that's something you'll have to decide for yourself. All I'm saying is that not many get to have an encounter with me. Most people don't really believe that I exist, they think I'm an urban legend."

Roger made a connection in his head. "Are you the Big Bad Wolf?"

The voice laughed. "So you've heard of me. If you wouldn't mind, could you tell me whatever story you've heard. I'm always interested in my press, such as it is."

Roger shivered. What the hell? He was feeling nervous again. He was talking to an urban legend? One he'd never even heard about until about an hour ago. What did it mean? The rat had said he wouldn't hurt him, as had the Wolf, but mysterious, legendary creatures wandering a hook up park were just so far out of his worldview he didn't know how to handle it.

"Uh, I didn't really hear a story," he said, hesitant. "This rat guy just said you'd huff and puff and blow my mind."

"Oh, a rat? That sounds like Eric. He always acts so mysterious. That's really all he told you? I'm going to have to give him a real serious talk about how he presents me. Did he at least tell you where you might find me?"

Roger shook his head. "No, he just said to look out for you. I couldn't even tell if that meant look for you or try to avoid you."

"He probably thought he was being cute. Oh well. It's not like I want to put myself on display to the general public anyway. Speaking of putting myself on display..."

The wolf stepped through the leaves that hid him from sight. Roger had never seen anyone like him, his breath caught in his throat.

He was enormous, maybe seven feet tall, but his body didn't look like it had been put together right. His legs were too short for his body and his arms were too long so he walked, more or less, on his knuckles like a gorilla. A tail stood up from his backside. A tail. Nobody had a tail, even those few who were actually born with a stub had it removed, but this wasn't a vestigial tail, it was a full blown, waggy dog tail.

"I know you weren't looking for anything really freaky, but..."

Roger just stared. The wolf did a turn for him to show off his lean muscled body, his motions graceful despite the apparent awkwardness of his body. He could see that his spine was twisted to some degree, forcing his back into a hunch. "You're incredible," he said when he finally found his voice. "I wasn't talking about-- you know, I meant, weird sex stuff."

"What's your name?" The wolf asked. He put his face up to Roger's and breathed in heavily through his mouth, as if he was tasting Roger's scent. Roger's breath caught in his throat. There was something primal and erotic in that act. He didn't understand it, but there was something about the wolf that just captivated him. Perhaps it was fight or flight. Whatever it was, it made his voice husky when he answered.

"Roger. What's yours?"

"You can call me Wolf, if you'd like."

"Don't you have a real name?"

Wolf stepped behind Roger, put his mouth right up to Roger's ear and spoke, his voice a low gravely whisper that made Roger shiver. "My name is mine. You don't need it. But I know what you do need."

Part of Roger wanted to turn around. It didn't like such a powerful creature being so close and in a position that left him at such a disadvantage. Part of him almost wished that he would just strike, bury those teeth in his neck. He didn't know why. He'd never felt like this before, but then, he'd never been in a position like this before. Wolf blew a puff of air down Roger's shirt. He shuddered and bit his lip. What was happening to him?

Suddenly, he remembered the rat's words. "He'll huff and puff and blow your little mind," he'd said. He never would have expected it to be so literal. His head was swimming. Had he been drugged somehow? Maybe something in the wolf's breath? But that didn't really make sense, did it? How could a person drug their breath?

He felt hands on him. Large, strong hands, with claws that seemed razor sharp as they dragged along his clothing.

"Do you know what you need?" Wolf said.

Roger shook his head. "What's happening to me?" he said. "Did you...?"

The wolf laughed. "I haven't done a thing, no drugs, no magic spell. Your body just knows what it needs, even if your mind doesn't. Listen to you body, it's the thing closest to your spirit, you know, not your brain."

Roger couldn't be sure, but he thought he might have whimpered. The wolf's hands slid under his shirt, tugging it up as he ran his fingers through Roger's fur.

"Do you want me to stop?"

Roger shook his head again. He wasn't sure what he wanted, but he did know what he didn't and he didn't want the wolf to stop touching him.

The wolf pulled Roger's shirt over his head and dropped it. He ran his hands up and down Roger's upper body and pulled him close. The wolf was hot to the touch. Roger felt like he was melting into the wolf. It seemed like he was touching him everywhere, like he was wearing him as a coat.

Roger didn't know what to do. He wanted to stay exactly the way he was, engulfed in the wolf's embrace, but he also wanted to move, to feel everything the wolf had to offer. His hands remained clenched at his sides, never mind how desperately he wanted to put them on the wolf, feel his fur under his fingers, the muscle under the fur. He'd never felt so overwhelmed by the closeness of another before.

The wolf didn't share Roger's passivity. He nibbled on Roger's neck, drawing a gasp. At the same time, his hands traveled down to Roger's pants to unfasten them. His motions were slow and sensual, Roger was almost unaware of the particulars. Once his pants were undone, they fell in a pile, leaving him naked except for his shoes. He felt the wolf's hardness against his back. It was big and hot and left a trail of hot slickness as the wolf gently ground it into him.

"Do you know what you want yet?" The wolf said in that same seductive whisper he'd been using. Roger nodded. "What do you want?"

Roger reached back and wrapped his fingers around the wolf's erection. The wolf chuckled.

"Well, if that's what you want, you'd better try and take it."

Though a part of him wanted to guide the wolf into his ass immediately, the more practical part knew that wouldn't be possible without a lot of force and a lot of pain. The wolf was far too big, much bigger than anything Roger had ever taken before. Adding to that the fact that he was in no way prepared, he decided to take a different tack. He turned around and looked the wolf in the eyes.

The wolf's yellow eyes showed none of the clouding of lust that Roger felt. Those eyes were cool, confident, completely in control. His lips were curled into a self-satisfied smirk that should have irritated him, but didn't. He was completely in control of the situation, they both knew it, and both knew that it was the way it had to be. Roger was the interloper, the stranger to the wolf's forest. It was only natural that he be the one to submit, to be overcome by the wildness. It was all new to him. Perhaps in time they could be equals, perhaps one day, but for now, the wolf was master.

Roger dropped to his knees. Due to the wolf's short legs, that put him directly in front of his erection despite being so much taller. It looked as large as it felt. Like the rest of him, his cock had an odd mix of traits. At the base, it had a bulbous knot that was an angry red, just above where it came out of his sheath. The tip, though, was fully human with a plum colored mushroom head swaddled in foreskin. In between was a thick, slightly curved, shaft that transitioned in color from the bright red of the base to the dark purple of the head. He had never seen one like it. He doubted there were any others like it. It was beautiful.

When the wolf had been breathing down his neck, his mouth had been dry. Now that he was on his knees staring straight into the most incredible cock he'd ever seen, his mouth watered as if in anticipation for the most incredible feast. He licked his lips, opened his mouth, and tried his best to swallow it. He only got two thirds of the way to the knot before it hit the back of his throat. It was so big his jaw was already starting to ache after only a moment of keeping his teeth away from the wolf's tender flesh. He pressed on, trying to get the whole thing into his mouth, knot and all.

His throat opened up a little, but because of his size, he barely managed to get any of it in before he gagged and had to pull away.

"You don't have to take it all at once," the wolf said. Roger took him at his word. The more practical part of his mind wasn't functioning too well, but it was awake enough to know a good point when he heard it. As a compromise, he spat two great gobs of saliva onto his hands before taking the cock back into his mouth in a more comfortable manner. Instead if cramming every last inch he could manage, he concentrated his lips and tongue on the first third of the beastly cock and let his hands range over the rest. One hand wrapped around the knot, not quite as big as a baseball, and twisted around it. The other moved up and down in the classic way. There was just enough room, to get a decent range of motion with both hands, so long as he kept the amount in his mouth modest.

"That's good, kid-- Roger. That's real good."

From the tone of the wolf's voice, Roger could tell he really meant it. He was very pleased by the praise. The partners that he had had before had been nothing like the wolf in either size or shape and he was proud that he was adapting to the challenge so well. As much as he was enjoying performing on the wolf, however, there was a small shadow of worry on his mind.

Roger, while he enjoyed being anally penetrated, did not get that many opportunities to participate in it. The friends he had fooled around with had been of a more passive persuasion and so he had found himself more in the penetrating role than the penetrated. He was very interested in taking the wolf inside his body, but he did worry that he wouldn't be able to, or if he was, that he wouldn't enjoy it, which would probably be even worse. At least if he just couldn't get it in he'd have the fantasy of what could have been, but if it turned out he didn't like it, it would be an entire avenue of sexuality that would be closed off to him.

That was a worry for later, though, so he did his best to give the wolf the best blow job possible. He let go of the knot and cupped the wolf's balls. His scrotum was covered in fur like a dog, but it still reacted to heat like a human, and loosened to allow it to hang more freely. Roger caressed the sack, gently rolling the testes inside. They were enormous, each one was probably the size of a large chicken's egg. He released the wolf's hard cock with a pop, lengthening the strokes of the hand that still held it to compensate, and used his other hand to shove one of the wolf's balls into his mouth. He sucked it gently as he brought his second hand back to the task of stroking the wolf.

"You're doing a really good job," the wolf said, "but I don't really need any more help getting ready. Turn around."

Roger did what he was told. He didn't know exactly what the wolf was going to do, but he was willing to put his trust in him. Maybe it was part of the wolf's spell, maybe it was just some kind of internal submissive streak he was just now getting in touch with. Either way, in this place and time, he had given up all of his power to the wolf. Later he could examine it and try to figure out what it meant, but for now, he would have to ride the train to its destination. He couldn't get off.

The wolf pushed him forward to rest on his hands. The smell of decaying leaves puffed up as his hands disturbed the forest carpet. He preferred the smell of the wolf, but forever after, the two would be inextricably linked in his mind. Any time he smelled the forest, he would think of this wolf and this encounter. The wolf's hands fell on his butt, prying his cheeks apart and exposing Roger's anus to his sight and the cool forest air. Roger looked back and saw the wolf lower his head, his tongue already extended. At the first touch of the wolf's long, rough tongue, Roger ducked his head and closed his eyes to concentrate on the feeling.

The wolf was very skilled with his tongue. He started with long slow strokes from the base of his scrotum to the midpoint of his crack. The licks got shorter and faster until they were just quick laps directly at Roger's hole. From there, that tongue began insistently pushing in, squeezing itself into Roger's tight canal. He whimpered as it turned into a tongue fuck then he whimpered when the tongue disappeared. The wolf didn't make him wait for more.

The wolf spat into his hand and rubbed it into Roger's anus. One finger pushed in, just to the first knuckle at first, then more spit and more finger. When that first finger was moving in and out without resistance, the tongue returned, pushing in farther than it had before thanks to the loosening from his finger. It felt extremely wet, especially when the tongue tagged back out for the finger and even more spit. A second finger forced itself in and so he continued his preparation.

Roger was extremely grateful that the wolf was so methodical and through while preparing him for his cock. He hadn't had to, surely he could see that Roger was sufficiently under his spell to allow himself to be abused. The wolf could have torn him in half and he wouldn't have thought to complain until afterwards.

After getting Roger used to a third finger, he removed his hand and said, "Are you ready?" In response, Roger reached back and pulled his butt cheeks apart to reveal his loosened hole. He didn't look back to see the wolf's reaction, he just waited with his face resting on rotting leaves.

The wolf spat again and Roger heard the sloppy sound of a lubricated hand passing over a cock to distribute it. Then he felt the blunt tip of the wolf's cock press into his ass. Even with all the preparation, it was too big to go in easily, but still displaying the inexhaustible patience, he didn't force it to the point of pain. Once he could feel resistance, he pulled back, distributed more lube on the tip and pressed again. He had to repeat this a dozen times, but each time he made progress until the head finally popped past his sphincter.

Roger whined. It didn't hurt, exactly, but it was uncomfortable. He had never been stretched so wide and as much as the wolf had done a good job of preparing him, it was still an unfamiliar and a little unnerving sensation. Despite that, he wasn't done. He didn't want it to end. He wanted to take it all, to feel the wolf's body against his again, to be enveloped in him like before.

The wolf pulled out, providing a moments relief before relubricating his cock and pushing back in. This time it went in even easier and the next time Roger pushed back, trying to get the wolf in deeper.

"Please, I'm ready for more," Roger said.

The wolf did give Roger more of his cock, but he didn't speed up. He continued his slow, steady attack, making sure to keep everything lubricated and not to go faster than Roger could take. It was driving him insane. As thankful as he was that the wolf wasn't hurting him, the tension only kept rising. But just before he was sure he was going to crack, he felt the wolf's hands on his hips. He pulled back, fully impaling Roger to the knot in one smooth stroke.

"Oh, fuck," Roger sighed. It was everything he had hoped it would be. Seemingly, the wolf's cock rubbed its entire length against Roger's prostate. His cock twitched and he felt a spurt of precum. The wolf followed up his first thrust with a slow withdrawal and another slow thrust. Roger pushed back, trying to speed up the proceedings. He felt the wolf's cock stop at the knot, he kept pushing back, trying to take that last prize. The wolf released his waist and leaned forward, putting his hands down on the ground beside Roger's.

"Not yet," the wolf said. "Patience."

Roger cared a little less about taking the knot now that the wolf had fully taken his dominant position around him. Again, he felt the wolf against every inch of himself. The wolf's odd body shape meant that in this position they were a perfect fit. He felt warm, safe, protected. And full. The wolf's breath was heavy in his ears.

They found a rhythm together. The wolf pressed forward, Roger pressed back.

"Look at me," the wolf said. Roger turned his head and the wolf enveloped him in a kiss. Roger moaned into the wolf's mouth and the wolf quickened his pace. Roger felt more pressure from the knot, each thrust pushed it harder and harder into his sphincter and each time he opened up just a bit more to receive it. The wolf seemed to be hitting every pleasure center that Roger had.

Roger's cock ached. It was so hard he thought it would burst if something wasn't done about it soon. As if reading his mind, the wolf slid his hand down Roger's body, putting most of his weight on his back, and grasped Roger's member. He whimpered as the wolf began stroking him in time with his own thrusts.

Then it happened. Roger's ass finally opened fully to receive the wolf's knot. The wolf howled as he orgasmed, flooding Roger with his semen. He rolled over into a sitting position, dragging Roger along with him and into his lap. He jerked Roger off and the two of them watched him buck into the wolf's hand, which tugged on the large knot trapped inside him. The sensations were all too much and it was only a few seconds before he exploded himself.

His semen shot higher than he had ever shot it before. It rained down on them like a cloud burst. He found himself opening his mouth and sticking out his tongue, trying to catch it as it came back down. The wolf aimed his spasming member towards his face, so that the next shot hit him straight in the mouth. The remaining shots weren't nearly as strong, the first only reached his chest and the rest were little more than dribbles.

He collapsed against the wolf, completely drained. Dazed, he watched the wolf lick his hand clean of Roger's semen, then gather as much of it as he could from Roger's fur and licked it clean again. They kissed and Roger suckled on his tongue until the wolf broke the kiss so they could breathe. Roger snuggled up into the wolf's chest, letting his head loll back.

"How long are we going to be stuck like this?" he asked dreamily.

"Only a few minutes, usually." The wolf put his overlong arms around Roger and held him tightly while nuzzling his face into his neck.

"Any way to make it last longer?"

"No," the wolf said. Roger thought he sounded wistful.

They stayed snuggled together like that until the wolf's knot shrank and he fell out. Roger tried to hold him in, but that proved impossible. Roger felt sleepy. He often did after sex, but with the addition of the wolf's warmth and comforting presence, it seemed doubly powerful. The last thing he remembered before he drifted off was the wolf laying them both down on the soft leaves and him pulling the wolf's arms tight around him like a blanket.

When Roger awoke, it was dark and he was alone. There was no sign of the wolf, other than the dried cum crusted on his fur. That and how tender his anus felt. As best as he could tell with only his fingers, it had suffered no permanent damage. Briefly, he considered going deeper into the forest to search for the wolf's lair, but quickly decided against it. It was too late and soon it would be too dark for him to even find his way out. Instead, he got dressed and headed back for the main path. When he got there, he made an arrow out of fallen sticks that pointed down the side path that had led him to the wolf.

Then he went home and went to bed.