Intoxication
#1 of Lance Monroe
Lance Monroe wasn't usually a heavy drinker, or a regular at the strip club, but as of the past week he was. His skill set and lack of a formal education worked together with his age against his chances of finding a new job. As it turns out, no one wants to employ a fifty year old wolf who didn't graduate high school and whose only real talent is being a drone. Lance knew he was smart enough to excel far above and beyond where he was currently, and he also knew that thirty-five years of manual labor hid his intelligence very well.
So a week ago when Lance was fired from his latest job he had almost given up hope, so he did what every down-on-his-luck man does; he went to a strip club. He sat at the bar and steadily downed one Budweiser after another, waiting for one act- Marcy.
Lance thought that Marcy was a goddess. Lance was right. When she came out for her routine, the room came alive; men would hoot and holler for the collie's attention but to no avail. Why? Because Marcy thought that Lance was a god. She would get lost staring lustfully at Lance's heavy, muscular body during her act, causing impromptu moves that drove all the men wilder.
Thirty minutes after Marcy's show and a few decimal points higher on Lance's BAC, both Marcy and Lance were in their respective parking lots headed for the same exit. Lance didn't notice Marcy's 1970's Volkswagen until he nearly hit it pulling up to the main road. Both parties swerved to avoid the other, leaving them both gasping for air.
Marcy was the first to look up following the close encounter. The last thing before nearly running into a ditch was seeing a dark red pickup truck on a collision course with her front bumper; now she saw the man that she idolized slumped in the front seat of that same truck. She quickly ran out of her car towards Lance and his now opened door. When she arrived, the wolf was about to stumble out onto the pavement. Luckily she caught him and propped him against the bed of the truck.
"Are you okay?" Marcy asked frantically, brushing the hair from her eyes. Lance looked up at her sleepily, mumbled something and then slumped down again. This time Marcy wasn't able to catch him, so instead she lessened his fall and slid down to the ground with him. Once she was down there she inquired about his well-being again, this time Lance responded with a slurred "fine."
"You're not able to drive, are you?" Marcy asked bluntly, looking at the drunken wolf resting in her lap.
"Nope."
"Well, you managed to swerve into a parking spot. Kind of..." Marcy's heart fluttered when she realized what she was saying, "we can just leave your truck here and take you to my place for the night." She shivered when she actually asked him, only to realize that her nerves hadn't caused the shiver, but rather the falling snow. She examined Lance and based on his lack of cold-weather clothes answered her own question. "Come on, I'll help you to my car."
On their way to Marcy's car, Lance drunkenly asked where they were going. Marcy told him not to worry, that he'd be fine. He attempted to mount a protest initially, but realizing his current state, he decided against it. When they got to the car, Marcy opened the passenger side door and slid out from under the wolf's arm, allowing him to enter. Then, she quickly scurried over to her still open door, jumped in and drove off.
Forty-five minutes later, Marcy was poking the long-since sleeping wolf in her passenger seat "Wake up, sleepy-head. We're home!"
Lance opened his eyes and examined his surroundings; a tiny car, snow, some foreign house, Marcy. Oh yeah! He thought, Marcy! He then opened the door and exited the tiny car, the middle of his biceps level with the roof of the car. Marcy followed and for the first time, Lance noticed how tall she was. He had been measured at about six and a half feet tall at some point in his life; he didn't know or care when. But if that were accurate, he estimated that Marcy was in the upper range of five feet tall, maybe five foot eight. He also noticed how slender she was without her outfit on. Currently she only wore a sweater and a pair of blue jeans, both exemplified her curves and revealed that they weren't as unnatural as Lance had worried they might be.
Marcy on the other hand, was blown away by Lance's size, but had gotten over it on the long ride home. She knew about how long her drive would be, so she took her time and enjoyed the scenery of her passenger seat, adding ten minutes of drive time. The first thing that was shocking was Lance's overall weight; muscle and fat combined, (both of which were amply found), the wolf weighed in around two hundred and fifty or sixty pounds. He was more muscular than Marcy had been able to estimate; from thirty feet away he looked large, but up close he was mammoth. Marcy noted that even the wolf's forearms and legs were covered in muscle, a detail that had been previously lost through the smoky strip club. Marcy also noticed that Lance was a good deal thinner than she originally thought, (that's not to say that he was a slender fellow), he sported a nice layer of soft padding over his muscled body, something that made him look even more intimidating.
Marcy was the first to speak following their ogling session, "So, would you like to come inside and rest?" Lance nodded and they proceeded to the door where the two shared a small covered patio while Marcy fumbled with the lock. From here, Lance was able to examine her curvaceous body even closer; a sight that tightened the crotch of his pants considerably. As Marcy slid the key into the lock, Lance placed his large paws on Marcy's waist, causing her to gasp quickly before moaning lightly. He pulled her slender, curvy body closer and made her aware of the bulge in his jeans, pressing it firmly against her ass.
Marcy hurried her pace after taking a moment to enjoy the pressure on her ass, turning the key and quickly moving inside, she nearly left Lance on the patio before closing and locking the door back. Then she spun on her heels to face the giant wolf that now occupied her house. She looked up at him and examined his weathered face. Gray hair was streaking his headfur, his eyes looked tired but his smile was genuine. It was an 'I'm up to no good' smile, but a genuine one none the less. After looking at Lance for a few moments, Marcy surprised even herself when she dropped to her knees and started to undo Lance's jeans.
It took little time and no assistance from Lance before his jeans had pooled at his ankles and his manhood was out in the open. What stared back at Marcy, only inches from her face was another beast. This one was like its owner; thick. It made sense, Lance was a big man, so he should be endowed to fit the bill. While it did make sense as to why it was big, Marcy was really still stuck on how big it was. She grabbed it with a light, investigative grasp and found that her thumb and her index finger were barely able to touch around the massive unit, and it wasn't even hard, yet. While it was already a 'chubby' and it likely wouldn't thicken any more, the initial shock of the girth and the promise of more length left Marcy with her maw open as she simply stared.
As taken aback as Marcy was, Lance was even more shocked. Still a little bit intoxicated from earlier, his reaction time was delayed. So by the time that he registered that Marcy had removed his pants; she was already holding his cock and staring lustfully at it. The sight made Lance smile even more; he hadn't even had to ask before the most gorgeous woman he had even seen had already stripped him of his pants and started to size him up with a very 'hands-on' approach.
While staring at the enormous organ in front of her was lovely, but Marcy decided that before Lance could have the opportunity to make some drunken pun about... well about anything that she should shut him up. Firming her grasp on the growing cock in her hand, Marcy parted her lips and slid the thick head into her mouth and took in its taste. Within moments, Marcy, too was intoxicated. Instead of from alcohol, her drunkenness was a result of her lust. Lance's member had somehow found its way out and back into Marcy's anxiously waiting maw, stretching her lips each time. When it did enter, Marcy would greet it warmly with a quick lick around the head with her tongue before she pulled off again. Each time she would attempt to place more or the gigantic organ in her mouth, only accomplishing about seven of its untold number of inches.
Marcy did variate her method of attack, though. She did not rely solely on the quick-in-and-lick method; it was just the fastest to fully erect the cock. Once it was full and flared, Marcy would let it dwell in her mouth, moving her lips along the length while running her tongue down the underside. Occasionally she would replace part of her maw with her hand, focusing on the head with rapid up and down motions and heavy licking, a move that was reserved due to its climax-inducing nature. She continued to suck at Lance's dick ferociously for ten minutes before she started her hand and mouth routine, but without stopping when Lance's breath became short or sporadic. She ignored all of the usual warnings of an impending orgasm, instead of pulling away as she had been doing so far she just continued to pleasure Lance, right up until the breath he drew in the announce his climax.
However once that moment came, just before la petite mort, an instant preceding Lance's screams of ecstasy, Marcy stopped. She pulled her head away and looked up at a very puzzled wolf; "You don't expect to get off that easy, now do you?"