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I slowly pull his pants down, always looking up to him, grinning. His ears fold back, he was probably blushing. He looked nervous, which was a bit strange, but I drank it up. There was a strange pleasure in knowing you had control in a situation like this. That someone of such masculinature could look at you like that.

I nuzzle his member still trapped in his underwear. Boxer briefs. Wished he'd worn a jockstrap or somethin. Maybe next time. For now, I take in the scent, it sends shivers down my spine. I still hadn't gotten over his strong musk, filling me with heat, making me want to, ahem, jump his bone.

Who am I kidding. Suck his dick and drink down his cum until those big fat puppy makers he calls balls can't keep up anymore.

I lick his thick cock through the fabric, panting loudly as his member quickly becomes engorged, making it stick against the cheap clothe almost obscenely. Normally he didn't wear this kind of thing, choosing instead to go commando. But, what can I say, I loved the eroticism of underwear, and once he saw how much it got my engines ready and roaring, he was more than willing to make that sacrifice. I mean, seriously, come on. It looked like his dick was gonna burst out at the seams.

My cock throbs at the idea as I slobber the outline of his cock with drool. I glance up, and he's staring at the ceiling, head thrown back, letting me go at my own pace. Usually he'd rip off his underwear and start goading me on to the actual thing. But hey, just means more fun for me.

I latch one claw onto the fabric prison, pulling it down and letting his dick flop out crudely. I start lapping at it with the same type of elegance, sloppily streaking it with lines of slobber. It had a thin sheen of pre on it, which I absolutely loved. I drink up the musky flavors washing over my tongue, growling and whimpering from the sheer dominance his scent exuded.

I pull his underwear the rest of the way down, grabbing his enormous cock in both paws, stroking it tenderly as I bring my muzzle to the tip, licking it teasingly. He groans, but quietly. I snort, accepting his pseudo-challenge.

I bring my paws down to his equally enormous balls, almost more fitting on a horse, if you believed that kind of stuff. I paw at them, trying my best to roll even just one of them in my comparatively small paw. I still don't understand how he hides them in his jeans. His cock was an easier thing, he was definitely a grower of sorts. Just . . . a shower, too.

No, wait, get back to the task on hand.

I grip the middle of his shaft, pumping it slowly as I bring my tongue to the base of his dick, dragging my tongue from top to bottom of the goliath member. His cock throbs, spurting pre onto my head.

I won't lie, I loved giving blowjobs. I love having the power to give people pleasure. To be in control of their bodies, playing them like a fucking violin. Or a god damn cello in this case, haha. But still, to maximize pleasure, to bring out that primal sensation that we all indulge in. It's . . . exhilarating.

I grip his cock, stroking the base where his knot was. A good concentration of nerves were there, even if it was uninflated still.

I lick his cock, but I also suckle at some places, like just under his tip, on the underside of his dick near the crown. Large build-up of nerves there. He groans, pre spurting and leaking out on the regular now. He was starting to get into this. I grin evilly.

I move my paw down onto crotch, slowly sliding it up to his abdomen. He looks down, and I smile innocently, his cock spitting out a jet of pre at the perfect moment to leave a sticky line on my cheek. He groans, marking me again. I lean down, going to his more course pubic fur, closing my eyes and smothering my face into the musky area, taking a deep whiff.

He growls humping against my face as I take in the dizzying scent. I loved it as much as he loved seeing me enjoy it so damn much. A true win-win.

I lick all across his dick again, my hand diligently back to work as I pump the large slab of meat. I pull on his balls a bit, rolling them in my paws. Years of shamelessly groping my own had taught me all the ins and outs in handling them.

I get to the head, taking it into my maw, moaning audibly as the streamers of pre hit my tongue, the salty, musky flavor flooding my senses as I struggled to swallow it all down. He barks, panting. I sink down on his dick, bobbing slowly as I tease with my tongue, focusing especially hard on the crown of his prick, running from the underside and right onto the slit.

I feel his cock inside me, alive and hot and throbbing with need. I shiver, my own cock throbbing in my boxers.

It had been a while since I had started, and despite the meetings far too few and far too long in between, I had grown attuned to his body. It was almost as if, even now, we were whispering sordid secrets to one another.

I sink down, four inches, flicking my tongue on the entire underside, making the tip grind on the roof on my mouth. He growls, thrusting shallowly as his hand rests on my head. My hands are still hard at work, my left massaging his heavy sac, my right stroking along the entirety of the dick I hadn't taken in yet.

His pre was still threatening to flood my mouth, more than ever as he got more into it. I bob my head faster, wanting so badly to pleasure him, to ensure I could get a taste of that cum I had started to be addicted to.

I sink lower, gagging, but working through it and swallowing down. Yeah, took a while to get that trick down. I sink lower and lower, my tongue still teasing. My eyes were closed, of course. I know I should look up with an innocent stare, get him really riled up. But I didn't want to. I want to savor the feeling of his dick sinking into me, the burn of my lungs, the throbbing of his member. It seemed so foreign, but I relished these moments.

He helps me down the last few inches, pushing me into his crotch. Then he grips my shoulder and head, and I brace myself, my right paw now stroking his inner thigh.

He pulls out to just the tip, giving me a chance to breathe and admire my work, strings of spit still sticking to the middle of his cock, the sheen of pre now replaced by a layer of slick spit. Without missing a beat, he pushes back in. I guess he had acclimated to my body as well, giving me enough time to breathe properly, but not enough to keep me waiting.

And he starts to muzzle fuck me, using long, deep strokes. His balls were slapping my chin now, and my hands couldn't exactly keep up with him, so instead I grabbed his ass, the two solid mounds being perfect hand-holds.

He growls, I can feel it inside me. But he doesn't change his pace. I admired that kind of control. And was thankful. It would have choked me. But I do adjust to his speed, clawing at his rear and pushing him to go faster.

He happily does so.

His knot starts to inflate, at this point signaling his end. He's able to hold back longer, but he doesn't like to edge too much. Besides, my jaw can only take so much.

But closing in on his end, I start to really pick up the pace. My tongue teases him, and I clamp my jaws down tighter like a vice, and he groans. And every time he hilts into me, I stick my tongue out to lick his knot just a little bit, and he groans. Little bit of showboating never hurt no one . . .

"D-Danny, I'm close." Mark says, panting wildly, his thrusting becoming erratic. I tap his ass twice, giving him the go-ahead. What? Yeah we had safety signals. It's a built difficult to talk with a cock lodge inside your fucking esophagus. Sue me.

"Nggh, ho man, this is gonna be a big one." He says. They're always big ones.

He groans loudly, then throws his head back and howls to the fucking moon, his cock throbbing as I quickly grab his knot and massage it firmly, trying my best to emulate a tie. His big hand wraps over both of mine, squeezing down hard as he shoots out his first spurt of cum.

It went right into my mouth, the viscous liquid quickly flooding before I drank the bitter and musky elixir down, moaning as I did. But he was far from done. I shiver and moan as I feel every single hard jet of cum shoot into my muzzle, with me desperately trying to gulp the prodigious load down without letting a single drop escape.

And this goes on and on and on, his entire orgasm lasting long enough that I was almost struggling for air. Almost.

He pulls out just as his climax tapers off, jerking his dick violently as he paints my face with a few streaks of cum, too. I was panting, mouth open, sticky with how my whole muzzle was lined with musky, bitter sweet cum that overloaded my senses. His climax was my everything at that moment.

And feeling his hot jizz work it's way into my fur, burning hot and stinking greatly of manly wolf,

"Gahhhh." I groan, stroking my cock and cumming inside my boxers, smiling like an idiot as I flood my own undergarments.

Soon enough, we're calming down, both naked and relatively cleaned up.

He lies on the bed, against the headrest, still sitting up.

I go over to hit the lights and get a drink of water from the glass and pitchers next to him.

"I think I love you." He says, looking across the room towards me, still panting.

"Uh . . . mhm." I say as I climb up onto the bed, taking the glass of water from my nightstand and taking a nice long drink. Shame it washed the cum flavor from my mouth, but blowjobs can really make a guy thirsty.

"A-Aren't you gonna say something?" he asks, looking a bit frazzled.

"Is . . . is there something to say?" I ask as I hand him the glass, in which he quickly drains and sets back on the nightstand. "I mean, okay I guess?"

"N-No, wait, this isn't the reaction I was prepared for." He says.

"You were actually planning this?" I ask, standing up to open a window. It was hot in here. But mostly because summer's still in full swing, even at this time of year.

"N-No, but I ran a scenario like this through my head." He says as I climb back into bed, snuggling against him. "I never thought you'd be so . . . eerily calm."

"Well, it's just one of those things, you know?"

"N-No, Danny. It's not 'just one of those things'." He says, sitting up, taking away my warm pillow. "Danny, I love you."

"Mark-"

"Seriously, you're being so cold! I mean, th-this is taking a lot of courage, you know?"

"Mark." I say, sternly.

"I know I'm not going to get an "I love you" back so easily but . . . do you not feel anything for me?"

"Mark!" I shout, gritting my teeth, every part of me trying to hold back the suddenly welling anger. "You don't love me!"

Silence. Blank stare.

"Wh-What?"

"Mark . . . you don't love me." I say as I sit against the wall the bed was sitting against. "You're just infatuated because you found a willing and warm hole to stuff. It's also probably because you have someone to explore with. After all, it hasn't been that long since we started. Being into guys is probably a shock for you."

"Danny, that's not- I mean- that's not why-"

"Isn't it?" I ask, bringing my knees to my chest, a heavy weight seeming to crush me. I guess I wanted to keep the lie up for a little while longer . . .

"Mark. Love is an amazing thing. One easily defined, but hard to truly grasp. It's . . . an entire world in and of itself. There's plenty forms of it, good and bad. There's no easy way to deny it."

"So then why don't you think I lo-"

"Because to love a person, you need to know them." I say, tail curling inward now too. "You can't love someone without even knowing the person, because it's just insulting to love. It's lust. And let's face it. We've only been really hanging out for a few weeks now. You don't know _anything_about me."

"So what, random trivia about you is what makes love real? Like your favorite color, your tastes in food, your middle name?" he says scoffingly.

"No. That's not knowing a person either. That's knowing things about a person." I say, wanting to just end the conversation and let the damage just happen.

"Well, you seem to be very knowledgeable. Both on love and about me. I mean, how do you even know how I feel? About any of this? About what I know about you?"

"Because I've seen it before." I say, covering myself up with a blanket.

"Really? So you had a bad break up, or-"

"My parents." I say. Yeah, he shuts up real fast now. "My parents have been married for 20 years now. 20. And for as long as I've watched them, lived with them, I knew they never really loved each other."

"H-How can you say that?" he asks.

"Because it's true." I say, my tone growing much darker and serious. "They . . . were only together for convenience. No matter how much they held hands. No matter how many gifts they bought each other. No matter how many dates they got right, never missing an anniversary, or a birthday . . . I could never get past the coldness of that household."

"They were nonchalant about each other. My dad gets in a car crash, and my mom says that it would probably all be fine. A few more minutes working on dinner wouldn't hurt. Mom gets her purse stolen, even gets slapped hard when she tried to resist, we can always buy more things. They both cheat on each other . . . no big deal. As long as it was a onetime thing, right?"

"I've never seen them get into an argument. They just accept things how they are, no matter how messed up. They try to cover their broken lives with exotic items. They try to hide their lack of caring through religion. They hold on tightly to those kinds of things, because they have nothing else. And in a way . . . I was just another one of those things. Something they both used to justify how a divorce would be cumbersome. How they really did feel something for each other. At least to everyone else."

"Hell, they can't even manage to guess what they would like as a present! They just . . . didn't know anything about the other. If they were cold or callous, or warm and loving. If they were secretly a slob, but had cleaned their act up for them, or if they were scared of being alone during a thunderstorm. To everyone, they're so perfect. No arguments, no missed anniversary, no worry for economic stability. It's all ideal. But it's not."

"Danny . . ." he says, placing his arm around me gently. "I'm sorry. I . . . brought up a few bad memories."

"No kidding, Dum Dum." I say, leaning my head on his shoulder and closing my eyes.

"Danny . . . you do a weird thing with your tail when you get nervous. It puffs up. But it's also when you take it up a notch and get a lot more charismatic and fun. Especially when presenting or debating."

"What?" I ask, cracking open one eye and looking up at him. He had . . . the absolute sweetest smile. Something foreign to me.

"You always say you hate assignments that aren't due the next day, because you always procrastinate, but during lunch, I always see you working on them. You do it because you don't actually procrastinate, but you want to sympathize with your friends, and you don't want to make them feel obligated to work harder or resent you, right?"

"Mark-"

"You always say you eat at lunch, but you give most of your food away to your friends who can't afford it or are just lazy." He says, leaning closer, placing a hand over my own. "You're always watching other people, and when you notice something's wrong, you jump in to help without hesitation. You value loyalty in your friends, and you'll always trust them without a doubt."

"C'mon, that's creepy." I say, chuckling lightly.

"You hate it when someone's pretentious, because you believe that everyone is equal, yet fundamentally different and special in their own way. Hypocritical at first, but still." He says, nuzzling me.

"And most of all . . . you are the most kind, dislikable, and wonderful person I've ever known." He says, squeezing my paw firmly. "All this . . . I learned from just watching you. You seemed interesting at first, and more often than not infuriating. But I wanted to learn more about you for a long time. And in the short while I can say that I've been really getting to know you, it's only reaffirmed what I thought and what I think."

I feel his paw lift up my head, moving from my chin to the side of my face, cupping it gently.

I open my eyes, glad for the dark. Because with my heart racing so fast, I knew my ears were burning red.

"Danny . . . I never lie. Not unless I genuinely don't know." He says, leaning in closer, almost kissing now. Something we had actually yet to do. Something I didn't feel ready for.

"You've made me angrier than any other person I've met. And you've made me even happier. I can't say I know you, or that I ever entirely will. But I can promise you this. For as long as I have known you, and for as long as I do, I love you. From the bottom of my heart."

My eyes widen as he leans in, gently pressing his lips to mine. No tongue fucking, no weird making out, just his muzzle pressed against mine.

I gently place my paw over his chest, closing my eyes as I realize how fast his heart was beating.

Slowly, he breaks the kiss, trying to linger as much as possible.

We both look at each other again. And in his eyes . . . in his smile . . . there was an undeniable warmth. Something that I, in all of my frigidity, had never known.

"Fucking jack ass." I say, pushing him down and laying on his chest, both our hearts still pounding.

I love you, too.