A VIP Experience
Story written by Aikyoong for me, all credits go to her.
Chase is just a broke guy who just wants to meet the world's most biggest pop star Zara so bad after seeing her perform at a concert far away from his apartment. So when he goes to her official site, he goes down to the meet-and-greet section, clicks on it and has an experience he will never forget~.
A VIP Experience
“Fame is just a tease; the real show starts when the cameras finally shut off.”
The heavy bass from the open-air stadium didn’t just float through the night air; it
rattled the cheap glass of Chase’s balcony door and vibrated straight up through the soles of
his bare paws. He leaned hard against the wrought-iron railing, the sticky summer humidity
matting his golden fur. The metal was coated in a thin layer of city grime, but he didn't care.
He was entirely focused on the distant, pulsing dome of laser light slicing through the smoggy
skyline. Neon pink and electric blue slashed the darkness, keeping time with the heavy synth
beats echoing miles across the city blocks.
Even from this far away, the raw, raspy growl of Zara’s voice cut straight through the
drone of neighborhood traffic. She was performing to eighty thousand screaming fans down
there. Chase was just a twenty-two-year-old golden retriever stuck on a cramped, third-floor
balcony with a bottle of cheap, warm beer in his hand.
He took a bitter swig, his eyes locked on the faint, distant flashes of the stadium
jumbotrons. He didn't need to be in the front row to know exactly what she looked like right
now. Her silver-gray fur would be slick with sweat under the intense stage lights. She’d be
wearing something that barely contained her, moving those famously thick, heavy curves to
the music with absolute, arrogant control. She was the world’s untouchable pop idol. Every
guy in the city spent their nights jerking off to the thought of that massive, jiggling ass. Chase
was no different.
His broad, muscular chest pressed harder against the railing as another distant roar from
the crowd washed over the rooftops. The noise crawled under his skin. He was sick of the
televised performances, the distant lights, the untouchable fantasy of her on a screen. He
wanted to be down there. He wanted to smell her.
An hour later, the bass finally cut out. The neon lights died, leaving the sky a dull,
suffocating amber.
Chase slid the glass door shut, sealing out the damp heat. The apartment felt instantly,
depressingly quiet. He tossed his empty bottle into the trash with a loud clatter and dropped his
heavy frame into his desk chair. The springs squeaked under his weight. He slammed his palm
onto his laptop's spacebar. The monitor flared to life, casting a harsh, stark white glare across
his messy bedroom.
His claws clicked rapidly against the keys, navigating straight to her official domain.
The premium fan portal loaded instantly. A massive, high-resolution banner of Zara dominated
the screen. She was looking over her shoulder, a bratty smirk on her muzzle, her impossibly
thick rear shoved right into the camera lens, poured into leather pants so tight they looked
painted onto her gray fur.
Chase swallowed hard. His throat felt like sandpaper. The heavy ache in his groin that
had been building all night flared up, hard and demanding.
He bypassed the standard merchandise bundles. He ignored the early-access concert
tickets. He scrolled violently down to the very bottom of the page, past the public options,
down into the hidden VIP section. The exclusive, private meet-and-greet packages.
The price tags printed in sleek gold font were insane. They were numbers that made his
stomach hollow out. It was three months of rent. It was every cent he had in his savings account.
But right there, sitting quietly at the bottom of the list, was the platinum booking option. A
private, unrecorded audience at her private estate.
It was a chaotic, stupid urge. The lingering adrenaline from the concert bass was still
humming in his blood, mixing with the hot, throbbing pressure in his jeans. He didn't even stop
to think. He pulled his wallet from his back pocket, his fingers flying across the keyboard,
typing in his credit card details before the rational, broke part of his brain could scream at him
to stop.
He hit submit.
The screen grayed out. A little loading wheel spun in the center. Chase held his breath,
his heart hammering against his ribs so hard he could feel it in his throat.
A stark white confirmation page finally popped up, bearing a simple gold crest and a
digitized signature.
Booking confirmed. The car arrives at 8:00 AM.
The adrenaline crash hit him like a physical blow the second his phone chimed on the
desk with the email receipt. He stared at the glowing screen for a long, quiet minute, the reality
of the money he had just burned settling over him. He didn't even bother taking off his jeans or
his shirt. He just pushed back from the desk, took two heavy steps, and collapsed face-first onto
his unmade mattress. The stark glow of the laptop still painted the walls as the heavy pull of
sleep dragged him under.
The next morning started with an aggressive, low-frequency rumble vibrating through
the thin walls of his apartment building.
Chase groaned, burying his muzzle deeper into his pillow. The deep mechanical purr
outside his window refused to fade. He rolled over, his back popping, and blinked against the
harsh morning sunlight stabbing through the broken slats of his blinds. He pushed himself up,
his golden fur rumpled and sticking up in every direction, and stumbled over to the window.
A black stretch limousine, long as a city block and polished to a flawless mirror shine,
was idling directly in his narrow, cracked driveway. The tinted windows were pitch black. A
Doberman driver wearing a sharp, tailored suit stood right by the rear door, hands clasped
casually behind his back, completely ignoring the stares of the neighbors.
Chase froze. His breath hitched in his throat.
The booking. They were actually here.
Panic and pure, hot excitement spiked his heart rate. He tore away from the window
and sprinted for the tiny bathroom. He stripped out of his clothes in seconds, leaving them in a
pile on the tile, and cranked the shower dial all the way to cold. The icy water blasted his chest,
shocking his system awake. He gasped, dialing it back to hot, letting the steam quickly fill the
cramped room. He grabbed his body wash and lathered up with frantic, aggressive efficiency.
He scrubbed his scalp, his broad chest, down his tight abs, and between his thick thighs. He
needed to smell perfect. He wasn't going to show up smelling like a cheap apartment.
He grabbed a towel, dried off quickly, and dragged a comb through his damp golden
fur until it fell into neat, thick waves. He rushed back to his bedroom, tearing his closet apart.
He pulled on a fitted black henley that hugged his muscular chest and shoulders tightly, pairing
it with his best dark denim jeans.
He grabbed his keys, locked his front door, and practically jogged down the driveway.
The driver didn't say a single word. He just reached out and pulled the heavy, reinforced
door open. Chase slid into the cavernous interior. The door thumped shut behind him, sealing
him inside a soundproof vault, instantly cutting off the noise of the city.
The cabin smelled like expensive leather, ozone, and a faint hint of sandalwood. Soft
ambient lighting glowed along the floorboards. The air conditioning was freezing. Chase sank
back into the plush leather seat as the massive vehicle pulled away from the curb, leaving his
rundown neighborhood in the rearview mirror.
The ride took nearly an hour. The limo wound its way out of the city limits, climbing
up the steep, winding roads into the exclusive hills where the smog thinned out into clear blue
sky and the noise disappeared completely. Massive wrought-iron gates parted silently as the
limo approached. The tires crunched softly over a sprawling driveway paved in imported gray
stone, sweeping up toward a massive, modern mansion.
It was a fortress. Sweeping white concrete, massive walls of dark tinted glass, and rich
wood accents, perched right on a cliffside that overlooked the entire sprawling valley below.
The sheer scale of the wealth made his stomach tighten.
The limo glided to a perfectly smooth halt. The driver opened the door. Chase stepped
out. The air up here was crisp and clean, already baking under the morning sun.
An older Greyhound wearing a pristine charcoal vest and slacks waited at the top of the
wide entrance stairs. His posture was rigid. His expression was completely blank.
“Good morning,” Chase said, his voice sounding entirely too loud in the dead quiet of
the courtyard. He walked up the stairs, feeling the heavy fabric of his jeans shifting against his
legs.
“We are expecting you,” the butler interrupted smoothly. His tone was rich, polite, but
perfectly distant. “Please, follow me.”
The butler turned on his heel and led Chase through towering double doors into the
foyer.
The interior was a massive display of hyper-fancy minimalism. The polished marble
floors were so clean they reflected the sunlight pouring through the floor-to-ceiling windows
perfectly. Abstract stone sculptures dominated the empty corners. The silence in the mansion
was absolute, broken only by the soft click of the butler’s shoes.
“Where is she?” Chase asked, keeping his voice low, instinctively intimidated by the
sheer size of the space.
“She has been waiting for you for quite some time,” the butler replied without looking
back. He guided Chase down a wide, sunlit corridor that opened up toward the rear of the estate.
“She prefers the morning sun.”
The corridor ended at a massive sliding glass wall that had been pushed completely
open. It led out to a sprawling, multi-tiered stone patio. A massive infinity pool stretched out
toward the cliff edge, the water a flawless, brilliant turquoise.
“Straight ahead,” the butler murmured. He bowed his head slightly, then turned and
vanished back into the cool shadows of the house.
Chase stepped out onto the heated stone of the pool deck. The heat of the day hit him
instantly. The air smelled strongly of chlorine, blooming jasmine, and the heavy, sweet scent
of expensive coconut tanning oil. He walked slowly past the edge of the water. The soles of his
shoes scuffed softly against the stone.
Then he saw her.
Zara was sprawled out on her stomach across a wide, incredibly plush white towel
draped over a massive teak lounger. She was completely, unapologetically naked.
Her dense, silver-gray fur gleamed under the direct sunlight, perfectly groomed and
slick with a heavy sheen of oil. She was propped up on her elbows, holding her phone in front
of her face, idly scrolling with one clawed finger. She didn't even twitch when his shadow fell
over the deck.
Chase stopped dead in his tracks.
The reality of her was infinitely more potent than any screen could ever capture. Her
back dipped into a dramatic, sharp arch, leading down to the main attraction.
Her ass was massive. The gray cheeks spilled out over the edges of the white towel, the
sheer volume of her sinking deep into the plush fabric under their own incredible weight. The
visual contrast of the dark gray fur against the bright white terrycloth made her look even
thicker. Her heavy thighs were parted just slightly, offering a devastating, shadowed glimpse
of the darker fur right between her legs.
His mouth went completely dry. The heavy pressure returned to his groin, hard, fast,
and demanding. His cock twitched heavily against the zipper of his jeans.
He didn't just want a polite meet-and-greet. He wanted to bury himself in that flesh. He
wanted to hear the sound of his hips slapping against that fat ass.
He closed the distance. His footsteps finally scuffed loudly right next to her lounger.
Zara didn’t flinch. She took her sweet time. She casually locked her phone screen,
tossed the expensive device onto a nearby glass table with a loud clatter, and slowly turned her
head over her shoulder.
Her piercing, bright yellow eyes locked dead onto his. A slow, bratty, utterly arrogant
smile pulled at the corner of her gray muzzle.
“Let me guess,” she purred, her voice carrying that exact same melodic, raspy gravel
he had heard echoing through the stadium speakers. “You’re going to tell me you’re my biggest
fan, pant a little, and maybe beg for a selfie?”
“I didn't come here for a picture,” Chase managed to say. His voice came out rough,
heavy with the lust suddenly clawing at his throat. He stood right at the edge of her lounger,
staring dead down at the heavy curve of her cheeks.
Zara laughed. It was a short, mocking sound. She shifted her weight, rolling lazily onto
her side and propping her head up on her hand. The movement caused her heavy breasts to
sway and settle heavily against the towel. Her thick thighs shifted, exposing the slick, wet pink
folds of her pussy completely to the morning air. She didn't try to hide anything. She wanted
him to look.
She looked him up and down, her yellow eyes dragging deliberately over his broad,
muscular shoulders, down his tight chest, and lingering heavily on the massive, straining bulge
tenting the front of his dark denim jeans.
“A golden retriever,” she mocked, rolling her eyes playfully. “God, my management
has a sense of humor. You’re probably going to lick my face and apologize for staring. You
look like you're about to start wagging your tail.”
Chase’s jaw tightened. “Try me.”
“I’m looking at you,” Zara shot back, her tone dripping with lazy, wealthy entitlement.
She reached out with one bare foot, her toes brushing lightly against the denim covering his
shin. “You’re built nicely, I'll give you that. Lots of muscle. Good posture. You don't look like
the usual soft, trembling wrecks they send up here. They usually stutter and shake when they
see me naked.”
She patted the empty space on the massive white towel right beside her heavy thighs.
“Take those clothes off, retriever,” she commanded. It wasn't a request. It was an order
from someone who had never been told no in her entire life. “Let’s see if you’re actually worth
the space on my patio. You paid a lot of money just to stand there sweating.”
The bratty, demanding tone snapped the last thread of his patience. Chase reached for
the hem of his black henley, grabbing the fabric and ripping it up over his head. He tossed the
shirt carelessly onto the stone deck. The hot morning breeze hit his bare, golden chest.
Zara’s eyes dropped immediately to his abs. She licked her lips, her sharp teeth flashing
white, her arrogant smirk slipping just a fraction.
He reached for his belt, unbuckling it with a sharp metallic clack. He popped the button
of his jeans, dragged the zipper down, and shoved the heavy denim down his legs along with
his boxer briefs. He kicked his shoes off, stepping free of the tangled fabric entirely. He stood
completely naked in the brilliant sunshine, towering over her lounger.
His cock sprang free. It was heavy, thick, and already weeping a thick bead of clear pre-
cum at the blunt, flared tip. It jutted out aggressively from his golden fur, rigid, angry, and
twitching with pure anticipation.
Zara’s yellow eyes dilated instantly. Her pop-star mask shattered completely. Her lips
parted, a quiet, sharp breath hissing in through her teeth.
“Holy fuck,” she murmured. Her voice lost that controlled, mocking smoothness. It
sounded breathy. Genuine.
“You wanted to see what you got paid for,” Chase said, his voice dropping into a low,
heavy growl.
He climbed onto the lounger. The thick white towel was soft under his bare knees.
Zara didn't need another order. The sight of his rigid cock had completely overridden
her bratty attitude. She immediately flipped back onto her stomach, burying her face into her
crossed arms, pressing her chest flat to the towel.
Her tail flicked up and out of the way. The dark, tight ring of her asshole sat right at the
top of the cleft. Just below it, the glistening, wet pink slit of her pussy was already swollen,
weeping slick moisture down her inner thighs. The heavy, musky scent of her raw arousal
wafted up into the hot air, mixing with the coconut oil. It smelled wild and hot.
Chase moved in tight. He straddled her thick, gray thighs, his golden knees pressing
into the towel on either side of her hips. He didn't just push into her. He reached down with
both hands and grabbed her ass.
His large, golden hands sank deep into the heavy, gray fat. The visual contrast was
stunning—his bright golden fur pressing into her sleek silver coat, his long fingers completely
disappearing into the sheer density of her cheeks. He squeezed hard, kneading the soft flesh
aggressively.
Zara let out a sharp, high-pitched gasp. Her hips jerked upward automatically, pushing
back against his grip.
Chase leaned forward, bracing his weight just above her hips, and lowered his pelvis.
He guided his thick, rigid erection right down into the deep, plush valley between her massive
cheeks. He pushed his hips forward, burying his shaft in her flesh.
The friction was incredible. The dense, oily fur of her inner cheeks clamped down hard
around the thick shaft of his penis, holding his boiling heat tight against him. Chase let out a
low, ragged groan, pulling his hips back and thrusting forward again. The slick, oily slide of
his cock between her cheeks burned against his skin, pulling a wet, obscene slapping sound
from the collision of their hips.
Smack. Smack. Smack.
The sound echoed sharply across the quiet pool deck. Chase let go of her hips, reaching
down to grab massive handfuls of her ass again. He squeezed the heavy fat, kneading her
aggressively as he pumped his hips faster.
He slid his cock back and forth through the cleft. He dragged the blunt tip of his cock
through the slick moisture leaking from her swollen pussy, pulling her own wetness all the way
up through the crack of her ass. It created a perfectly lubricated, slippery slide for his shaft.
“Ahh… fuck, yes,” Zara moaned into her arms. She pushed her ass back against his
groin harder, grinding the slick lips of her cunt against the underside of his shaft as he
hotdogged her. “You feel so hot… rub it right there…”
“You like that, huh?” Chase grunted, his hips snapping forward, driving the head of his
cock hard against her clit through the back route. “You like a good boy rubbing against your
fat ass?”
“Shut up and fuck it,” she whimpered, her claws weakly scratching at the towel. “Stop
teasing me.”
The friction was burning him up. The sight of his thick golden cock disappearing into
the plush gray valley of her cheeks was driving him insane.
He slowed his grinding rhythm, letting his cock rest deep in her cleavage. He leaned
his chest all the way down, pressing his sweaty golden fur flush against her hot, oiled back. He
put his muzzle right next to her gray ear.
“You want it?” he asked, his voice a demanding growl.
Zara shivered violently beneath him. “Yes,” she begged. “Please, fuck… yes. Put it in
my hole. Stretch me out.”
Chase didn’t hesitate. He shifted his grip, grabbing her heavy hips tight with both hands.
He pulled her up sharply, forcing her up onto her knees into a steep doggy-style position. Her
incredibly fat ass jutted high up into the air, the cheeks spreading just enough to fully expose
her tight brown hole.
He grabbed his rigid shaft. He lined up the thick, blunt, pre-cum slicked head of his
erection directly against her tight asshole.
He pressed forward, applying firm, relentless pressure.
Her ring resisted him for a split second. It was tight. But the slick lubrication they had
built up from the hotdogging allowed the wide head to slowly pop through the barrier.
The tight, boiling heat of her ass swallowed the head of his cock.
Chase gritted his teeth. The muscles in his jaw locked tight as he pushed deeper, forcing
her body to stretch open around his considerable width.
Zara let out a sharp, loud yelp. Her sharp claws dug violently into the plush fabric of
the towel, ripping a few threads loose. “Ahhh—fuck! God, you’re so thick—!”
“Take it,” Chase growled. He drove his hips forward with a brutal shove, burying
himself all the way to the root in one smooth motion.
Her tight internal muscles clamped down incredibly hard around his shaft. She squeezed
him with agonizing, pulsing perfection. He held himself completely still, buried deep inside
her for a long, agonizing moment, letting her body adjust to his size. He could feel her internal
walls spasming and pulsing wetly against his skin.
He let out a long, shaky breath. Then, he pulled his hips back, sliding the thick meat of
his shaft out until just the flared head remained past her ring.
He slammed his hips forward, burying himself deep again with a loud, wet smack.
The impact sent a heavy, rippling shudder straight through her thick thighs.
He established a brutal, rhythmic pace. He thrust hard and fast, pulling back and driving
deep. His sweaty golden thighs slapped wetly against her massive, bouncing butt cheeks.
Smack. Smack. Smack.
Gravity and impact took over. With every single deep penetration, her heavy, fat rear
jiggled and rippled violently. The massive cheeks bounced and spread apart, perfectly framing
his thick golden cock as it slid in and out of her tight brown hole. He reached up and grabbed
a thick fistful of the gray fur at the nape of her neck. He pulled her head back sharply as he
pounded relentlessly into her ass.
“Oh god! Oh god!” Zara yipped. Her voice broke apart into short, breathless, stuttering
moans. She threw her head back against his grip, exposing her throat to the baking sun. “Don't
stop! Keep going, fuck, keep going! Wreck it!”
“Who's the good boy now?” Chase grunted, his hips firing like pistons. Sweat beaded
on his forehead and rolled down his chest, dripping onto her silver fur.
“You are! Fuck, yes, stretch my hole!” she screamed. Her hips were snapping back
wildly to meet every single one of his thrusts. The arrogant pop star was completely gone. She
was totally surrendered to him, begging him to fuck her harder on her million-dollar patio.
She was incredibly tight. The aggressive friction dragged heavily along his sensitive
nerves. The tight internal rings gripped his shaft, milking him with every thrust, threatening to
rip his climax out of him right then and there. Her desperate begging, the wet slapping noises,
the smell of her arousal—it was pushing him right to the edge.
He drove his hips into her faster, losing himself in the rhythm. His golden fur was
entirely slick with sweat. The thick muscles in his back and shoulders bunched and flexed with
every punishing, deep stroke.
The pressure at the base of his spine started to build, coiling tight and hot. The burning
in his cock was turning into that familiar, heavy ache. He was going to cum.
But he didn't want to finish in her ass.
Chase suddenly stopped. He pulled his rigid cock all the way out of her tight hole with
a loud, wet popping sound.
Zara whimpered loudly in protest. Her hips jerked backward instinctively, chasing the
lost connection. Her massive, heavy rear swayed blindly in the air. “Wait—ahh, why did you
stop? Put it back in my ass!”
Chase didn't say a word. He let go of her neck. He reached down, grabbing her thick,
sweaty thighs, and physically forced her legs much wider apart. He spread her out until her
slick, swollen, dripping pink pussy was completely exposed to him.
He shifted his angle, lowering his hips slightly, and pressed the blunt tip of his cock
directly against her wet, welcoming entrance.
He pushed his hips forward.
The contrast was staggering. Where her ass had been tight and demanding, her cunt was
slick, incredibly wet, and incredibly deep. He glided inside of her effortlessly. The hot, wet
velvet of her pussy gripped his thick shaft with a gentle, agonizing suction, pulling him in
greedily.
He sank in all the way to the hilt. His sweaty pelvis pressed flush against the heavy,
plush curve of her massive ass.
Zara let out a long, trembling, incredibly loud sigh of pure relaxation. “Ohhhh…
fuck…”
The sharp tension instantly melted from her shoulders. Her body went heavy and pliant
against the soft towel. Her hips rolled naturally against his groin.
Chase pulled back slowly. The slick, wet walls pulled heavily at the skin of his cock,
making a loud, obscene squelching noise. He drove back in with a long, deliberate, grinding
thrust.
He abandoned the brutal, fast bouncing. He switched to a much slower, much deeper,
grinding rhythm. He rolled his hips in wide circles with every thrust, pressing the thick ridge
of his cock hard against her internal bundle of sensitive nerves.
He drew out long, wet, deep moans from her throat.
“That’s it,” she whimpered, her claws weakly scratching at the towel. “Deep… go so
deep…”
He looked down at the point of connection. He watched his thick, golden shaft
disappear entirely into the wet, pink folds of her sex, perfectly framed by the massive, heavy
gray cheeks of her butt. The sun beat down aggressively on his bare back. The smell of raw
sex, heavy musk, and sweet chlorine completely filled his lungs.
I am the luckiest bastard alive, he thought. The realization hit him so hard, the sheer
disbelief of the situation crashing over him, that he spoke the words out loud.
“I’m the luckiest fucking guy,” he rasped, his voice rough and shaking with impending
climax. He pumped his hips deeper, his thighs burning.
Zara reached one of her hands back behind her. Her sharp claws gently grazed the
sweaty fur of his thigh, tracing a line up to his hip. She gripped him tightly, her nails digging
in.
“Do it,” she breathed. Her voice was thick, hazy, and completely wrecked with lust.
“Fill my pussy up. Cum inside me.”
The verbal permission shattered his final shreds of control.
Chase gripped her heavy hips like a vice, locking her tightly in place so she couldn't
move an inch. He pulled back, and then buried his cock inside her as deep as he could possibly
go, slamming his pelvis against her ass with a deafening smack.
His entire body locked up rigid. The muscles in his thick thighs cramped violently as
the massive pressure at the base of his spine finally exploded.
He threw his head back toward the sky. A deep, loud, guttural grunt tore out of his
throat, echoing across the infinity pool. He erupted right into the deepest part of her pussy.
Wave after massive wave of thick, boiling hot cum pumped forcefully out of his cock,
flooding her slick internal walls. He held her incredibly tight, his fingers digging bruisingly
deep into the plush fat of her waist, riding out the violent, full-body contractions of his massive
climax.
Zara gasped sharply. Her inner muscles clamped down hard, milking his cock
aggressively, pulling every last single drop of semen from his exhausted body. She shuddered
heavily beneath him, her own quiet, rippling climax rolling through her thick thighs and heavy
ass as he completely filled her up with his hot load.
The pulsing slowly ebbed. When the final throb faded from his shaft, the adrenaline
crash hit Chase with immediate, devastating force.
The baking heat of the sun, the sheer physical exertion of the brutal sex, and the
massive, overwhelming release of dopamine completely short-circuited his brain. Chase
collapsed forward instantly. His heavy, sweaty chest slammed flat against her sweaty, oiled
back. He didn't even have the strength left in his arms to pull his cock out of her.
The world tilted sharply on its axis. The bright, sparkling blue of the infinity pool swam
violently in his vision before narrowing down to a tiny pinpoint of black.
He felt Zara go completely limp beneath his weight. Her heavy, ragged breathing
slowed down rapidly, matching his own. Her consciousness was fading right alongside his,
exhausted by the massive orgasm. They both drifted down into a sudden, deep, heavy sleep,
locked together right there on the sun-baked lounger.
Minutes, or maybe hours later, the baking heat of the sun finally dragged a faint sliver
of awareness back into Chase’s brain.
He didn't open his eyes. The light was too bright behind his eyelids. He didn't move his
heavy, exhausted body. He was still lying completely flat across her back, his soft cock still
buried deep inside her slick, messy heat.
But his heavy, golden hand slowly slid down the smooth curve of her back. His long
fingers found the massive, soft, heavy weight of her left ass cheek. He gripped the plush fat
tensely, his thumb sinking deep into the hot, fur-covered flesh, anchoring himself to the
absolute physical reality of the gray wolf sleeping soundly beneath him.
Beneath him, Zara stirred.
She let out a long, lazy, deeply satisfied sigh, shifting her heavy hips slightly against
his groin. She didn't try to get up. She just turned her head slightly on the towel, her voice thick
and raspy with sleep.
“You know,” she murmured lazily, feeling the heavy, warm pool of his cum leaking
slowly out of her pussy and running down her inner thighs. “I didn't think you'd actually give
me your puppies.”