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Lio had been tempted all week by the thing he deeply wanted. The two things, really, both along the hind end of Sha, his blood-bonded companion. She knew he wanted them, of course, and teased him for it: all day she trotted ahead of him, tail hiked and wagging, tailhole twitching and winking every now and then, plump ripe spade jiggling with the rhythm of her footsteps. She wasn’t in her heat quite yet, though they both knew it was coming close – not that this dissuaded the hunter at all, of course. It was the nights spent together in the shared tent with his brother, the long days out on hunts with others from the tribe, the chances that just slipped by for private time with one another. The most that he could do was slip two or three fingers into that warm, wet flesh at night, or run a thumb along the warm pucker of her tailhole, or catch a whiff of her rich scent when the wind changed.

And it was driving him mad. Sha wanted it as much as he did, of course – this much was evident whenever he did manage to pass his paw along her backside, based on the sticky slickness matting his fur afterwards – but she at least was having considerably more fun dragging it out. For the first two days the feral would wave her tail in front of him, captivating him with her hungry musk, and then she would run off to lead him somewhere else for some purpose or another; and then the next two days Lio found himself busy running an errand for the clan chieftess, which required him leaving his companion at the camp; and then the fifth day, right as he prepared to leave on a “hunt” so the two could finally indulge themselves, one of the other members of the tribe waved him down and joined him, turning it into an actual, legitimate hunt.

A hunt for meat other than the black-tinted flesh protruding from between Sha’s hind legs, quivering with her breaths and her movements, sometimes leaving a small wet spot on the floor of his tent in the mornings, sometimes leaving a thick, heavy string of moisture at the end of Lio’s fingers. Even now as he returned, burden over his shoulder, he couldn’t get it out of his mind. It hadn’t helped that he had wiped those fingers off on his upper lip just before leaving, too, so that he could keep her in his head.

Finally he came to the tent across the camp, outside of which Sulla stood mending some tears in the material. The larger hunter’s ears perked and he turned, a smile blooming across his face when he saw Lio’s approach. His own companion, Tul, came around his legs as well, warm eyes watching the other.

“Ah. Lio.” Sulla reached out and took the stacked firewood from him, briefly disappearing inside the tent. “Thank you so much. I would’ve gone out to do it myself, but there’s just so much that needs to be done with the winter approaching. My mother – I mean, the chieftess – has kept herself busy making sure everyone’s doing their part.”

“Well,” Lio replied, bringing his paw up to scratch behind an ear. Even with the hours spent out in the trees, even with the heavy mustiness of earth and wood, the movement still brought the sting of Sha’s scent over him. “The last time I spoke with her she was lounging across Stike’s back. I hear that out in the cities the rulers have these huge, decorative thrones-”

Sulla threw his head back and laughed. “Yes, and meanwhile, our chieftess has her own companion. I wouldn’t doubt Stike is far more comfortable. Thank you again.”

Finally, the wolf thought to himself, trying not to seem in too much of a rush, I’ve got time to myself. To ourselves. I just wish I could…

Preempting his thoughts – the blood bond allowed for some manner of that between partners – almost before he had made his way across to the other section of the camp, his own beautiful she-wolf poked her nose out from the flap of his tent. Sha glanced around, lapped at her chops, then came out into the cool sunlight of early afternoon. She stretched languidly, tail high and swaying behind her, then came forward to do the same for her hind legs – and even from here Lio could see a little bit of the swing and jiggle of heavy, needy flesh. He licked his lips and swallowed though continued forward, until he could meet her halfway with his arms around her shoulders and her tongue against his cheek.

“Hey there, you,” he breathed, nuzzling into her fur. For a bonded companion she was fairly small, though still notable larger than any wild feral wolves: with both standing their full height, Sha’s shoulder came just above Lio’s hip. “Are you ready? All these jobs and tasks for everyone else, and now we’ve finally got time for ourselves…”

It was a rhetorical question, really. The bond allowed him a good idea of her feelings, and now that the two were in such close proximity with one another, their shared arousal was nearly too much for him to bear. The hunter rose back to his feet, readjusted his bow over his shoulder and instinctively reached for the knife on his belt, just making sure it was there, and then turned to head right back out of camp. Sulla again turned to watch him, looking up from Tul beside him. Two pairs of eyes, nearly identical, watched as Lio and Sha left.

The hunter rolled that around in his head as the two made their way out of the camp, following the familiar path up to the fork. Those two shared one of the deepest, most intimate bonds that Lio had yet observed of the tribe: the bloodrites that forged the bond often resulted in a closeness of nearly unrivaled intimacy, and yet Sulla and Tul seemed to have something deeper. Something more than just the hunter-companion bond, and something even deeper than the link of mutual lovers that so many of the pairings indulged in.

It was supposed to be a secret. Lio smirked; he had caught the way that Sulla’s nose and whiskered twitched, and how he’d licked at his chops, when Sha passed by. He had caught the same little things from a few of the other hunters in camp, too, and even once from the chieftess after the rough, heavy week of Sha’s heat last year. Even she herself indulged, Lio had found out. It explained why the only reason she had taken another hunter was to have Sulla; Lio had once come into her tent just in time to see her turn her muzzle away from beneath Stike’s raised leg, the huge feral’s heavy sheath and sack hefted in both paws, the thick glistening pink of his tip poking out. Her muzzle and her breath had reeked of him for the entire conversation, a rich, powerful, masculine scent that had almost been enough to distract her visitor.

Nobody ever spoke about the deeper physical, sexual bond sometimes shared between hunter and companion, and yet it was doubtless there. It was private and personal. That was why Lio only took a grab or a lick in the safety of his own tent, or out in the trees beyond the eyes, ears, and most importantly, noses of everyone else. Sulla and Tul were one of those pairs, obviously. So were Noma and Stike, and her brother Saro and Hex, and Ruya and Thoth, and…

Lio swallowed again. Sha had trotted ahead of him and stopped, head raised and ears perked at a sound out in the woods; of course his eyes traced down her backside, over the wrinkled pink pucker and heavy black-fleshed sex hanging beneath. Her sharp predator’s eyes swayed over the trees from one side to the other, and then settled on her hunter behind him; she tilted her head, lapped at her chops, and gave a sway of her tail, then started trotting ahead again. They both knew where they were going, and Lio did not need to lead her.

She led him, instead. It was a trail unable to be followed by anyone who didn’t already know it, and yet they still took their caution in following it. Then it was off between the trees, past the lightning-sheared stump, across the shallows of the river, around towards the ravine hidden beneath vines and branches and countless years of fallen, rotting leaves… but before they could make it the rest of the way, to the old mountain lion’s den now smelling richly of wolf and heat and musk, Lio abruptly stopped. Sensing his tension, Sha did the same, and looked back to him.

The hunter swallowed yet again, the hide of his loincloth already lifted forward a bit from his burgeoning arousal. It had been like that all day, as it had for all of yesterday as well – and she wasn’t even in heat yet. He crossed the small clearing to his companion and knelt down, bumping his muzzle against hers and smiling at the little lick she gave him.

“Gods, Sha…” he breathed, continuing to press his muzzle in. He ran his paws down over her strong shoulders and sides, fingers sliding in through thick fur and along the skin beneath. “You don’t need me to tell you how much I need you right now, do you?”

The feral wolf’s tail wagged, and she pawed at the ground. Lio sat back on his knees, brushing his loincloth to the side and immediately wrapping a few fingers and a thumb around his sheath. It felt so good to finally be able to indulge, to touch himself after such a busy week… he tilted his head back and let out a soft sigh, already enjoying the intimacy of just him doing this in her presence.

Like everyone else, their bloodrites had been a secret and private affair, with them leaving simply as a young wolf and a feral, and returning as a bonded hunter and companion. Unlike the others, Lio assumed, their rites had not involved their first shared encounter. That had only come a handful of years later, when his curiosity and interest had gotten the best of him… and then he ended the night with Sha’s scent strong on his nose and in his throat, and his tie buried inside of her. Ever since, he had had a nearly unquenchable thirst for her, her warmth, her presence, her closeness…

…her nose pushing at the base of his sheath, her breath puffing into his fur, her tongue lapping up and coaxing him further out. The hunter shuddered and leaned back a bit, spreading his legs to allow the she-wolf the space to focus on him. The smooth, soft warmth of her tongue, the dry wetness of her saliva sliding across his length and dripping down along his sheath, the heat of her shared hunger – he reached forward and rested a paw behind her ears, not so much holding her down as just enjoying the touch. This shared desire had been no assumption: the bond meant that they each knew what the other wanted.

Lio shivered again, throbbing against the slow, deliberate drags of the feral’s tongue along his underside. His other arm came up as well, reaching up over her shoulder with fingers digging into her pelt; he gripped on and lifted up, pushing himself over the soft cushion of her tongue, sliding up into her maw, feeling the intense simmering warmth of her mouth around him. He twitched and shivered and swallowed and then dropped back down out of her, dripping saliva as well as pre down into the already-soaked fur of his sheath.

It was so tempting for him to sit back and put in the few minutes to finish himself off, which Sha would, as always, dutifully and eagerly clean up. Sometimes he emptied himself out across her tongue, sometimes under her tail, sometimes into the hot warmth of her sex, and even if he only did so across his own belly and chest, she was always there to take care of it. That wasn’t what the hunter wanted today, though. After a minute spent unhooking his belt and resting his bow and quiver to the side, he straightened up again, bumped his muzzle against hers – her breath already smelled like his musk – and then gave her a lick.

She returned it, and then he returned that one, and she did the same again, and then their tongues met in the small space between their muzzles. The larger feral’s tongue slipped easily over and past Lio’s and into his maw, wrapping up against the roof of his mouth and slipping back over his lips. Sha was relentless in her kiss, even taking two half-steps forward and forcing the hunter to lean back as she lapped at and in his muzzle.

“Okay, okay,” Lio chuckled after a bit, lightly pushing her muzzle to the side with a paw. Still she tilted her head to try to continue licking at him. He wiped his wrist across his face, slopping off the thick coating of saliva in his fur there, and shook it off; there was no denying, though, that the intimacy had just done even more for him, with the slight bulge of his unswollen knot now already come free from his sheath. “See? I knew you wanted it as much as I did.”

Sha levelled her gaze at him, ears relaxed. There’s no denying that, that face said. I, unlike you, just wanted to have fun with it.

Lio rolled his eyes. He reached forward, still kneeling, and pulled the she-wolf’s body toward him, then used that leverage to try to get her to turn. She understood, of course, and then it was her tail lifting up towards his muzzle instead of her mouth and tongue. Just something else to kiss, something he had been thinking about all week: Lio swallowed, licked his lips, tasted the feral’s saliva on his own mouth and tongue, swallowed again.

“Gods…” he murmured, one thumb running over the pucker of Sha’s tailhole and the other slipping down between the fat, damp flesh of her sex. The latter slid easily in to the wet warmth there, his pad slipping up along the slick surface of her skin and muscle inside, with that muscle responding to the touch with a quick, tight clench. “You really are eager, aren’t you?”

Sha looked back at him, once again flicking her tongue out over her chops. Lio focused on that tongue and recalled how it had just been curling around his and lapping up in his own mouth; he shivered, swallowed, and brought his thumb back out of her, tracing the gathered wetness around the tip of his length. Again, it was so tempting to stand up and sink right up under her tail, to feel that squeezing, delicious warmth around the base of his shaft, but… instead the hunter settled himself in place and lifted his paw away from her tailhole, wrapping his thumb around the base of her tail to keep it up.

“I ought to… mess with you,” he breathed, touching his nose to that raised tail. This close he could already feel the humid heat of her body and her backside, her rich scent tickling at his nose. If he so much as pursed his lips forward, which he did, he could feel the wrinkled skin of her tailhole and the similarly wet warmth of the flesh hidden within; her pucker twitched and winked against the touch, to which he responded with a quick lick. “Just like you did for me. You and everyone else in camp.”

Sha snuffled, shifted her weight, and then quite deliberately pushed herself back against her hunter’s muzzle, pressing his face in against her. This yet again caused him to lean back and grip onto her for balance, tailhole pushing against his lips and cheek just as her tongue had done a few seconds ago. The male chuckled and straightened back up, returning the licks that she had given to his muzzle right there under her tail. The soft, sensitive skin pulled and twitched beneath the attention, each tug showing a flash of slick reddish-pink just inside.

Lio swallowed, the warm taste of her musk already filling his maw, and brought his thumb in to spread the feral’s tailhole. It was a gentle, careful pull, just along the rim where her fur flattened out to smooth skin, but enough: from there he could purse her lips against her and flick his tongue slowly in, pressing in through the squeezing, twitching muscles and into the heat inside, into the clenching and squeezing and shivering. Soon he could feel the ring of muscle tightening around the tip of his tongue, then a little bit further back, and further… then along the halfway point of his tongue, and then beyond that.

He angled his muzzle a bit to the side, stretching his jaw to wriggle his tongue deeper into his companion’s rear. The she-wolf palpably shuddered around the action and pressed back against him further, just as she had done every other time this had happened. This also wouldn’t be the first time that he used her saliva as well as his own to make the entry smoother: more often than not Lio lying down on the pallet in his tent would result in Sha walking over him, nuzzling at his chest and chin and licking at his face, which in turn led to him licking back, which would open both of their muzzles for tongues to freely meet and explore. Suckling on and swallowing around the feral’s broad, flat tongue would inevitably get Lio wanting to do something more with his own, so he’d sit up and have Sha turn around just so he could relieve that want.

Today was no different. The hunter lifted his other paw away from his own length so he could press a thumb back into her spade again, digging in up to the knuckle and then pulling out against the muscle there. That caused the feral’s hind legs to shudder beneath her, drawing her backside further down; Lio had to angle his muzzle appropriately, tongue slipping briefly out of her tailhole. He caught his breath, swallowed down her taste and the slickness clinging to his tongue, and then swirled it right back in, already working his thumb in a slow rhythm at her.

With his other paw having lowered down to spread this tight, squeezing pucker of warmth and scent, the she-wolf’s tail brushed briefly against the top of his muzzle but then hiked right back up. Lio curled his tongue in around her clenching muscles and pulled back out against them, swallowed again, and then this time focused on lapping along the outside of her pucker, drawing his tongue over in broad, slow licks; at the same time he turned his other paw to the side, bringing his thumb back out of her and instead replacing it with two fingers, and then a third.

That felt like a much better fit inside of the she-wolf. There was a slick grip and wet pull without it being too tight – she had pulled against his full, swollen knot several times before, after all – and he could maintain a good rhythm in her from here, assisted and magnified from Sha’s own lurching and leaning. After a while Lio became aware of her tail swaying, wagging against his head, nose pressed right up against the base as he continued to lap and lick and suck at her tailhole, the slightly-gaping ring now dripping with his drool.

“Gods…” he breathed again, the word puffing out warm against her backside. He could already tell that his breath stank of feral wolf. “Sha…”

The feral wolf looked back at him again and then took a half-step forward, just far enough to pull her rump away from his muzzle. Lio leaned forward in trying to follow the movement – he hadn’t finished his kiss yet; his tongue slid free from her muscles, a thick string of saliva hanging between his lip and the twitching rim of her pucker, still hanging slightly open. Her step of course caused the plump flesh hanging between her hind legs to jiggle again, too, Lio’s fingers drawing another string of sticky slickness out of her when she pulled forward off of them.

Almost half-consciously Lio brought those fingers to his maw, mixing the so-familiar taste of her sex with that of her tail in his maw. The slickness stuck to his skin and fur, forcing him to swirl and suck against it to clean it all of. “Alright,” he said, fingers still in his mouth; once he finished, he lowered that paw back down to his length and gave himself a few slow strokes. “I get it. Come back and I’ll give you what you want.”

It was what he wanted, too, of course. He loved digging his tongue under her tail, loved feeling the reflexive clenching of the muscles and slickness of the flesh within, but when it came to truly indulging… the she-wolf stepped back towards him, Lio scooting forward in the same move. This time he ran his paws up her haunches and then down again, thumbs coming in towards her black-fleshed spade instead of her tailhole. First he traced his thumbs over the base of her sex where flesh met fur; then he squeezed them together, pressing out a thick drip of that slickness like juice from a fresh fruit; and then he slid his pads in over the soft mounds of flesh and into the space between, digging gently up into her, pulling back out to spread her wide. Black flesh showed soft, smooth pink inside, wet, eager.

Lio glanced back towards where they had come from, briefly perking his ears for any sound of someone approaching. He lifted his nose and sniffed at the air, too, but of course could only smell she-wolf and sex and musk and want – and this only strengthened when he turned back towards her backside, against bringing his muzzle in and pressing it up against that warmth. This time instead of her tailhole, though, he kissed his lips to those of her spade, soft flesh against soft flesh; the hunter swallowed, drew in a slow breath through his nose, let it out between his parted lips, and flicked his tongue out into her spread sex. Then again, and again, and again, each time a little bit deeper, a little bit quicker.

Immediately that warmth, that slickness, flooded over his lips and tongue, filling his head with the she-wolf’s musk. Lio closed his eyes and breathed it in, angling his head up to dig as deep inside of her as he could: he kept one paw along her backside, thumb working in alongside his tongue, while the other he lowered back down to pay more attention to himself, the occasional drop of saliva or arousal dripping down over his tip or along his sheath. It was a warm, almost dry taste, heavy with the heat of sexual need and weighted with the sting of urine.

This last part just worked him up further, truthfully. On more than one occasion had Sha padded up over his reclining body again, though these times rump-first rather than headfirst; Lio had straightened up, expecting her to want him to make out with her tailhole or spade, or both, only to have her squat down over his chest and immediately start showering him down with intense musky heat, quickly soaking through his fur and into the ground beneath him…

He shivered in thinking about it and lowered his muzzle down, finding the protruding point of her spade and drawing it along his tongue and into his mouth. This put his nose directly inside of her sex, allowing him to breathe her scent deeply from the source while he suckled there, tongue sliding in, finding the hidden clit, playing over and around it.

As expected that brought some of the same response, with Sha lowering her abdomen down against his muzzle, pushing the hunter further down beneath him. He tilted his head back and swallowed down the gathered slickness from the attention. Lio drew back for a moment to catch his breath and slop the dripping juices back into his maw, then dove right back in. He pressed his muzzle and nose as deep as he could, feeling that delicious wet heat squeezing back against and around him, filling his head with her rich scent and staining his fur with it. Again and again he swirled his tongue around, he drew it up, he dragged it inside of her and flicked it out near the base of her tailhole.

He was kept gradually aware of Sha’s lowering stance, too, mostly in the slight sting and ache that began to grow in the back of his neck. The hunter had to scoot back and lean forward again to continue digging his tongue at her, the thick plump flesh of her sex sucking back against his mouth even as he did the same to her; he dug two, three fingers into her again, taking the opportunity to again catch his breath and clear his throat of the clinging stickiness from her arousal, then dropped that paw back down, spread that mess over his own length, and resumed swiftly pawing.

Through the bond, faintly but definitely, Lio could feel Sha’s growing, bubbling, boiling pleasure and arousal, mirroring and feeding into his own. What with her musk strong in his nose and her taste in his throat and on his tongue, what with her wetness dripping down his chin and rolling through his fur, with her saliva-slickened tailhole puckering and twitching against his nose while he worked his chin against her, tongue digging deep into clenching muscles – he swallowed once, then did so again against the stickiness in his throat. The hunter pulled in a breath through his nose, still buried in her sex, then let it right back out as a breathy moan; he nuzzled in against her, letting his tongue hang limp, then gave one, two, three more deep, firm licks – and felt a sudden spray of hot wetness against his chin.

That spray jolted and shivered with the she-wolf’s body, and then strengthened into a coherent stream. The scent and taste hit the hunter a moment later, sharp and dry and acrid and so enticing: he gasped and leaned back onto an elbow, Sha squatting over his chest as the constant attention and pleasure forced her to empty her bladder across him. He gladly watched as it poured out, fresh golden-yellow streaming down over his chest and staining his fur, dripping down to the fur of his belly and parting there to grow into a puddle beneath him.

Such intense warmth, such a powerful scent… Lio swallowed, mouth partly open, and paused in his own pleasure to slide two fingers into the she-wolf again. Sha looked back at him, tail raised, and licked at her chops, briefly widening her stance to let him do so: he felt the wet heat pour over his fingers and knuckles, felt the force behind the stream, and let it spray back against his chest. The male smiled up at her, held her gaze, and then wiped that paw off on the side of his muzzle, adding to the already-rich mix of scents clinging to his fur.

“You’ve been wanting to do this…” he murmured, leaning in again. He planted a kiss to the base of her tail, still hiked, then a second right against the pucker of her tailhole, then a third there with a flick of tongue beneath it, and then one just a little bit lower, closer enough that part of that stream cut against his chin and sprayed out over his neck. “Haven’t you?”

He could do the same to her, of course. Often Lio would walk off during a hunt or step out of camp to relieve himself against a tree or along the bank of the river, and right after he began there would be his large she-wolf pushing up against his leg, bringing her muzzle in, lapping at his stream further along or right at the source. The feeling of her tongue flicking over his sheath again and again, the sensation of that smooth warmth pulling his length further out while he still drained himself, eventually causing that stream to dribble to a stop, followed by him inevitable hunching over her shoulders and thrusting forward along that tongue; she had a certain way with it where she would squeeze up against him, would press him against the roof of her mouth, and while he was still panting and his legs still shivering from the release, the extra sensitivity and tickling would force him to continue emptying himself, right there into her maw. Sha never minded.

Just as he didn’t, either. The hunter continued down, placing one more kiss against the plump flesh of her sex, then dropped his jaw. That heat continued to stream against his chin, and then his lower lip, and then… then it pooled over his tongue, the acrid saltiness curling his nose and pouring into his head, spilling out the corners of his mouth. Lio slid his thumb in along the she-wolf’s tailhole again, gently pressing it in against the muscles – the clenching caused the stream to jump against his maw – and resumed pawing with his other, keeping his head deliberately angled so that her mark spilled right down over his length and sheath.

Sha was panting now too, as quickly and strongly as Lio himself. He swallowed, felt that sharp heat roll down his throat and into his belly, and dug his tongue right back into her, hungrily lapping at the warmth of both her arousal and her mark as it came. After that first mouthful he made no effort to drink her down, instead just letting her sharp taste fill and flood his mouth and pour out, soaking his chin, his chest, his groin. He lifted up into the drops of her stream as they fell, paw moving quick and hard, his own arousal mixing with her piss along his length.

His thumb continued to press into her rear, pulling down, squeezing her body more firmly against his face; he gritted his teeth, swallowed again, both tasted and felt the sharp heat and weight of it, then gasped and jerked. The hunter leaned his head back but then brought it forward again, deliberately nuzzling up into the she-wolf’s spade right as her stream started to dribble to its finish; he dug his tongue deep to slurp out the last of those drops, suckled softly along freshly-wet flesh, drank deep of her scent, and then gasped again, pulled in a sharp breath heavily tainted with Sha through his nose, and bucked into his paw again, and again. He actually had to pull his paw away from her rump and instead grip onto one of her hind legs for balance as his peak shot through him, spraying out first across his soaked chest and belly, then against the she-wolf’s underside, and then across the similarly dampened earth beneath him.

Lio, panting, jerked a fourth and final fifth time, the heat of his orgasm finally starting to diminish from bouncing back and forth through his body. Exhausted, he rested his muzzle forward against his companion’s backside, her tail just now starting to lower back down – but still swaying with satisfaction and contentment. Sha let him rest there for a moment and then stepped away, giving herself space to turn around and sit in front of him.

The hunter took a moment to flick the mess off of his paw, then tried to wipe it off against himself but couldn’t find a dry space of fur. He just gave up then and instead leaned forward, bumping his muzzle against the large feral’s shoulder and letting his arms drape around her; Sha’s nose twitched with the strength of her own scent, but a second later he felt her tongue lap out against his shoulder, his ear, and his cheek.

“See?” he panted, nuzzling into her fur. The two would obviously clean off in the river on the way back, and probably there end up indulging in one another’s presence again. Every time Lio licked his lips or swallowed he could taste Sha as strongly as if he still had his muzzle buried inside of her. “I told you… we both wanted it.”

The she-wolf bumped her muzzle against him again, verifying his claim. He scratched at her shoulder and nuzzled back.

“I needed this after this week…” he continued, still panting. It was good that they had already finished their hunts for the week: with all of these smells clinging to him and soaked into his fur, many of which would linger even after a bath, Lio wouldn’t really be able to focus on anything else. “I really did. Just… give me a moment, and then we can get on our way. Okay?”

Between his companion’s presence, the warmth of her body and her mark on him, and the sounds of the forest, the hunter almost fell asleep sitting there against her. It took her nudging his shoulder again and pushing him down onto his back for him to stir again, but by that point Sha had already stepped over his body, large paws on either side of his body.

He looked up at her and frowned. The feral tilted her head, wagged her tail – and then plopped her lower body down against his, tailhole still wet with saliva sliding up against the lip of his sheath.

“I’m tired, Sha…” Lio complained, rolling his head to the side. An eager wolf tongue made him look the other direction, then another set of licks made him roll it back over again. “Come on, just… just let me… do…”

He couldn’t resist her and they both knew it. In just a few more minutes, just a couple of well-placed licks along and in his mouth and careful angling of Sha’s lower body, Lio had both of his paws on her haunches again with his hips slowly, rhythmically working up against her, piss-soaked tip teasing and pushing at her tailhole.

Lio sighed and bumped his head back against the ground again. On top of him, Sha wagged her tail. “Just what am I going to do with you?” he sighed, a smile touching his lips.

That was something else the two shared: they both knew exactly what he would do.