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It was a nerve-wracking convention for me. There were many reasons, but the crux of the matter was that I was alone. I wasn't alone because I lacked friends; I was rooming with one of my favorite people. But it was men. My boyfriend couldn't come, and I wanted to try independently.

Now, while some would think sex is what I lack there, it's more than that. A guy can open doors, carry things, and protect me. I'm pretty fragile. I am a bunny with downy white fur. I'm soft all over, described often as "squishy." Most men who have touched it make a big deal about it. Sadly it's partly due to a developmental issue that also leaves me particularly weak and with a soft enough hide to be injured easily and fur wispy enough to show those injuries.

But of course, sex was a factor too. We are modern people, and my boyfriend gave me the thumbs up to experiment with other guys. It would have been a relief for him. You see, my last trip was rather rough. I went to an old town I used to live in and tried to reconnect with some folks. Time had taken its toll, and virtually all the men who had ever been sweet on me seemed mysteriously disinterested.

Now, I'm sure it comes off as shallow-- and maybe it is--, but I have always had issues with rejection and disinterest. I'm known for how excited I get about others. If you met me, I would want your life story! But rejection points me inward. It unlocks darker parts of my mind planted by an uncaring parent and torturous exes. It's a voice that tells me that I'm failing, that I'm just letting people down, and that's why they want to leave me. When this voice grips me, I lose my usual sunny disposition and seem brooding, grieving.

So yeah, it might seem odd that a man would let his girlfriend fuck off and get fucked, but it makes sense to me. He really loves me, and I love him too, and a little sex won't get in the way of that. Of course, he was concerned when I responded with a shrug and a somber smile, saying that I'll let him know if anything happened, and I didn't think it would.

So, this wolf comes back into the picture.

Well, so, I met this wolf years ago-- another convention, you know. But when we met him... Well, it's hard to ever explain this to anyone; it makes him sound not great, and it makes me sound insane. But essentially, one fateful night, he had sheepishly told me I was cute on some app the convention had to meet other guests. Wolves liking rabbits and other prey is a well-earned stereotype. Still, I enjoy being on the receiving end of big things anyway!

But what happened that night was curious. I was nervous and had some shots to calm those nerves down. He encouraged me greatly to do so and said he'd do the same. The deal was that we would meet in his hotel room and cuddle and maybe fall asleep together. Something simple but a great way to get to know a guy. I hated sleeping alone and didn't want to do it that night.

So when I met him, he was... Massive. He wasn't the tallest man I'd ever met, but he was up there. But he was also just... Wide. It wasn't that he was only fat but rather his bone structure; everything about him was broad and thick. He has thick catcher's mitt paws that could palm my forearm just about!

And there I am, a little bunny. But he did seem so meek and a bit shy as he welcomed me to join him in bed. And so I stripped down to very little, and so did he. I had suggested before that I tend to sleep in the fur- and he said the same for himself- but I suppose at first, we tried underwear. He was likely just mirroring my movements to avoid offending. Honestly, I found his care to be really cute. I encouraged him to touch and feel.

I don't know if it's my self-esteem issues or what, but perhaps I'm almost desperate for men to touch me. I don't have the biggest tits or the widest curves, but men always go on and on about how soft I am. It's safe; it's something I know guys will like. So, he touches me, and he remarks on how soft I am. I'm happy, giddy. I mention that I might have had a bit too much to drink because I was getting really loopy. He asks if I'm feeling okay, and I tease him for his concern.

I really do find him sweet. He is a big sweet guy holding and touching me. By now, the drink is making me feel fuzzy and slightly disoriented. I'm a lightweight in all senses; no substance is an exception. I rarely even finish a cup of coffee. So, of course, two shots were a little much, but I guess I just wanted the bravery to crawl into a wolf's den. Of course, perhaps this wolf is more of a puppy dog or a teddy bear, with how nice he is to cuddle on.

Ah, but he's touching and groping me more intently now. Gently he guides my bra off to feel my soft tits. I don't mind; I think the initiative is nice. His muzzle noses through my hair and teases a cold, wet nose along the side of my neck. I let out a small gasp. A man this big, his heated, horny breaths roll over me.

And that's the first time I feel it. He grinds his hips into me and drags the thickest, biggest wolf dick up against the seat of my panties. I knew he was a massive guy but never expected that to be proportional. I was both intimidated and curious. In fact, not only was he bigger than my boyfriend, I hadn't ever even encountered this kind of girth. I bit my lip.

His hands were more graceful now. He wasn't as clumsy or shy; he touched with intent in slow, smooth drags. My body was so little against his, so fragile and soft. I liked it. But things were heated and wild. In truth, I didn't have permission from my boyfriend to do anything like this, and this was long before that was common in our relationship. In many ways, I think this experience changed me.

But those smooth motions were skilled, and his paws tugged down my panties too. I gasped as I felt that fat, red hot poker drag between my thighs, its roof wetly smearing along my mound. Some part of me was confused. We were going faster than I expected and much farther. I tried to mumble a question and realized I was too drunk to really say more than some noises.

And there it happened. One of his big wide paws clasped slowly, gently, but firmly around the lower half of my face. He was very clearly silencing me. I remembered now that his roommate was asleep in the other bed. And suddenly, I realized not only was all this happening but with a potential audience, so to speak.

He ground his hips into me, and my whimpers were muffled into his padded palm. I was prey right now. I was a trembling, whimpering rabbit. I tried to move, to struggle away, and each time I did, a hand would firmly grip my body to keep it where it was so that he could continue sawing his bare dick against me. He was so fucking strong.

My breathing was a mess, and I continued to make wet muffled sounds into his palm as he rolled his hips back. Making his mark, he nudged his tip up against my mound with expert aim. I whimpered more loudly, and he responded by gripping me far more firmly. And he pushed.

He was pretty wet, probably from canine precum, I suppose. But I was wet too. And the union would likely not have worked without ample lube otherwise. Still, it stung like hell when he began to spear open my lips. I was fortunate that breaking me permanently wasn't his intention as he began to make soft little bucks and rocks as he wedged me open more and more. I was certainly not the first person he'd fucked that massive thing into. It required some training.

But wolves are only so patient, and before long, he was sawing a good portion of that thing into me. If it wasn't pitch black, it might have made for intense porn, watching this tiny white bunny taking such a massive wolf dick. And take it I did. In truth, time lost itself there. I was penetrated, stuffed. He wore no protection. I was being bred. He'd occasionally muffle my sounds, but they had grown quieter, more pathetic. I was defeated, I guess. I didn't struggle or resist, merely whimpering and shaking in his arms. Before long, he rolled on top of me. He would bite my neck and shoulder so gently that it was almost comical compared to the painful rutting I was taking. But he was working more and more of himself into me.

I sometimes wonder if my little noises ever reached the other bed. Some part of me wonders if that person was just awake or if they woke up through part of it. I honestly don't know how noisy I was because it was just sort of all a blur.

He fucked me on and on, and eventually, it felt like forever. I was just a toy. I was a soft and pliable toy for him to breed. I guess I hadn't entered such a submissive space before. I submitted to men, sure, but this was all-encompassing. He owned me.

And eventually, I felt that knot. It wasn't that much broader, and so when he was ready, he made quick work of tying me. It was unceremonious, his body tensing and flexing as he ground into me. More meat was in me than ever before, and I could somehow feel myself warming as hot wolf cum spilled inside me in copious amounts.

We slept not long after that. If we said anything, I don't remember. I don't even remember if he untied before I fell asleep. But he held me tenderly. I remember that. His arms were so broad, and he cradled my small, tired body almost lovingly. He'd really made me his, and it felt that way, as silly as it sounds. It felt like I was his now like I belonged there. Don't judge me for those feelings; you might have felt them too.

The next day I don't even remember the conversation. It was at least a bit awkward. Maybe some chuckling about getting out of hand. I escaped scurrying back to my room and sort of... Pretended it never happened, and I never even told my boyfriend about it. A belly full of wolf cum, and I somehow limp the rest of the convention through like it's a normal day.

The messed up part of it was that it was an event I kinda pushed out of my mind a lot. Some part of me knew it was hot. I mean, I would never deny that was some of the most pleasurable sex I had ever had, of course. But it was... Certainly not traditional, and perhaps not a few other things.

However, the worse part was that over time I... Decided that I was glad it happened. I didn't hold anything against him-- in a strange way, it felt like I couldn't. Maybe he has laid some claim in me my heart couldn't shake off. Strangely, I wanted to kiss the man. And sometime later, I had expressed an interest in meeting up again, and while we had another adulterous fling or two, the energy of that first night was not exactly reproduced, and nor was that night brought up. Please, don't judge me for any of that. I was figuring myself out.

And so we flash back to the present. Well, maybe it was my desperation, but I suppose I decided to literally throw myself to the wolves. It was a Hail Mary attempt at making something happen. I had gotten some lukewarm responses from him in the year's most recent, so I wondered if he had just lost interest. That hurt more than it should. But I still tried. When I got a comment that he'd be there and little else, I was a bit crushed.

So it was a fateful night when I'd had a bit of drink that I confessed. I told him I was not sure if he wanted to see me but that I was. One thing led to another, and eventually, he seemed surprised to think I wanted to see him so badly. Moreso, he was surprised to hear I thought he'd lost interest. He admitted that he didn't ever consider I would need validation because he viewed me as being so fun and desirable. He seemed genuinely shocked. I admitted some things to him and finally even brought up that I was glad about that first time.

This got him excited. Strangely, perhaps he had thought I was the one who lost interest. Or perhaps he felt it didn't make sense for this bunny to want to follow a wolf that did little more than fuck her brains out. Whatever he thought of himself, I made sure to let him know.

So he knew, and we talked. He grew more excited when I told him I was lacking a chaperone. He got even more excited when I suggested he could take advantage of that, take advantage of me. I realize that he fought his own spirit to some degree, attempting to resist the temptation to do exactly that. Perhaps he was always fighting that temptation. Well, I put a stop to that. I basically begged. He couldn't resist and said he'd likely break a few rules. I was excited too.