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A bit over a year and a half ago, I wrote this piece for someone I love very dearly as a birthday present, when he was especially happy with how I'd written my other Soaked stories. This was what came out and, while I feel I could have done a better job now, it was still very well received and it, like the person in question, means a lot to me.

So here, now, on Valentine's Day this year, I figure it's as good a time as any to share. Hope you enjoy.

• Faora

First Soaked Night

I didn't used to be like this. I'm terrified of drowning still, and I can hardly believe it sometimes. Loving water's all well and good; I get a real kick out of pools, and beaches, and tubs, and rain... but I know it wasn't always this way. I know when it started though, and who it started with. It's that damn wolf's fault... and he reminded me of it. Look at that cheeky grin on his face; he knows it. He loves it. I bet my pillow'd bounce off his face real good...

Nah. It's not like I can hold it against him. I love how things turned out... I love him. I sure as hell wouldn't change what happened that night. Why would I? They say everything happens for a reason. I kinda like to think that it happened for him and me. It certainly set a lot of patterns, and I don't exactly want to go changing any of them, either. How'd it start again? Ah, yeah... that's right. Cliché, if I recall.

It was a dark and stormy night. No, really; it was. We were a few miles outside the city with a few other guys on a camping trip. I'd been looking forward to going for months. I was the youngest guy in the group of Scouts that headed out on that trip, and I was in that little phase of my life where I wanted to make everyone think I was better and older than I was. Ugh. I wasted a lot of time with that back then. And now I don't want to grow up any more, heh...

I didn't know my wolf back then too well. I didn't know most of the other guys, either. They mostly didn't like me too much... yeah, boo-hoo. It was okay. Making friends there was just going to be a bonus for me. I wanted to learn things during my time in the Scouts, and I certainly did. No, not those things... that came later. Stupid dirty mind... Course, I'm still surprised at how willing I was. It was just meant to be, I suppose.

We were paired up for the weekend trip on Friday morning, and we arrived out at the place we were camping early that night. We were lucky that we arrived when we did; the storm that rolled in hit just after we got everything put together. I noticed a lot of the other guys sat out in the rain, laughing and joking with each other. The wolf that would eventually be mine wasn't out there, though; he stayed in the tent that he and I had put up. He'd started to read some book or other with his flashlight; I later found out it was a part of that really long, really convoluted sci-fi series I still can't get my head around to this day. I swear, I wonder about his taste, sometimes. Then again, I have my twice-rebuilt collection of Star Wars books, so what do I know?

I figured that the other guys were a better bet; if the wolf wanted to stay by himself and read, that was fine. I knew that back then, I didn't want to be disturbed when I was reading something. And I wanted to try and be social, now that I had the chance. Oh, but it didn't go well, did it? I was utterly drenched by the rain and buffeted by the winds, and none of the other guys warmed up to me. I tried, I really did. And maybe it would have worked if I'd been taller, or stronger. It sucks to be a dragon as a kid when you don't live up to the image, after all. There are a whole lot of expectations that goes with it!

Still, if there's one thing I am now that I was then as well, it's stubborn. I stuck it out, despite their cold reactions to my attempts. I tried and I tried. I think I was out in that icy-cold rain for a good hour or so, while I tried to make them like me. In the end, we were all ordered out of the rain to our tents, and to get some rest. Dejectedly, off I went. I felt so terrible that I'd not been able to make them like me. I remember I wondered if something was wrong with me that I just didn't see.

Anyway, I missed the sight before me completely when I entered the little two-person tent. I certainly didn't miss it when I'd finished zipping up the flaps and turned around to tell my 'roommate' that it was bedtime. Oh, I'd seen naked males before at that point. Really, by the time you've hit your teens, you probably have. Or close. At least you've seen your own bits, at that point. However, I'd not seen a nude canine before, so I probably stared at the wolf's naked sheath for a few... well, minutes... too long to be socially acceptable. He was really nice about it, though; he didn't get upset at me, didn't blow up in my face or anything. Took it all in stride. He asked me if his being naked bothered me, and I said that it didn't. I said that on autopilot; I really didn't know what I thought about it at the time. Yeah, I felt a bit of a tingle in my own boy-bits, too. You see a naked person at that age, and your hormones flare. It wasn't a premonition of things to come; it was just natural at that time.

When I told him it was bedtime, my eyes were finally forced to be drawn away from his sheath. I remember how I stared, and for a while afterwards how I'd felt so ashamed! I couldn't have helped it; it was different to what I had! Bah, I riled myself up so badly back then. He slipped down into his sleeping bag and asked me what I was going to do. I was a bit confused at that point. I simply said that I was going to go to sleep. I remember I blushed hard when he told me to strip, and then brighter when he explained it was to keep me from catching a cold. For a second, I thought he'd made a move on me. I don't know how I would have responded to him if he had.

I remember how, at that time in my life, I always slept fully clothed. Even in summer, I did. That was a cold, early-Spring night, in the middle of a storm, and I was utterly soaked. Too stubborn for my own good, I am. I told him I'd just sleep like that. That made him concerned, and the wolf tried to tell me it was a bad idea. I brushed it aside, thanked him for his concern, and told him again I always slept clothed. In the end, he shrugged and rolled over and turned off the flashlight he'd used to read with. I carefully tucked myself into my sleeping bag, snuggled into my pillow in the way I'm told I have since I was two years old, and I closed my eyes.

I don't know how long it was before I woke up again, but it sure as hell wasn't morning. I only barely remember what happened, and the blanks were filled in by my wolf later on. He was the one to wake me up, and told me that I was shivering so hard that the chattering of my teeth had woken him up. Now, I'd heard of hypothermia, but I never really expected that I'd end up suffering from it. He'd seen it before though, and was certain that I was in trouble. For my part, I was just tired, confused, and wanted the naked wolf guy to leave me be. He didn't though.

He woke me up right proper and made me understand what was going on. He said that if I didn't get out of my soaking wet clothes, I was going to be in a real bad way. Well, I certainly didn't want to get worse, and I didn't want to die of cold or anything. So, I did what he said. The shirt went first, tossed in the corner. Then the pants went off to join them. I hesitated a little at my boxers, but after a brief moment I threw them aside, too. I asked him if he was happy. The wolf said he was. Heh... in later years, it wouldn't take hypothermia for him to get me nekkid.

Before I could get back into my sleeping bag though, he grabbed me by the wrist and asked me to wait. He reached down to the bag and ran his paw down the inside of it with a sigh. It was soaked, because of my clothes. I think I started to cry right then. Well, anyone else would have, too! I was young and scared and naked and fucking freezing at that point. I remember I hugged myself tightly and curled into a little ball in the back corner of the tent.

That was when the wolf got up, slipped right out of his sleeping bag, and unzipped it a little. There was silence for a few moments as he pulled from the other side of the tent a large, thick towel, and moved over to me. I was too tired to argue when he draped the towel around my shoulders and started to slowly and gently dry me off. It didn't take long; I was only damp by that point, and scales don't exactly retain water very well. When he was done, I turned to go back to the corner of the tent again. I fully intended to just curl up there and go to sleep, but the wolf's paw on my shoulder stopped me.

He told me to get in the bag instead of him, that it was nice and warm inside, and that he'd get dressed in dry clothes and sleep where I had curled up. Now, I might have been freezing cold, but I wasn't very good at letting people help me. I was too proud. I told him I'd be okay, that I couldn't take his sleeping bag away from him. And so he just grabbed me and pulled me close, and then stuffed me feet-first down into the bag. I was too tired to fight him off... and he was right; the sleeping bag was warm. His body had seen to that.

Now, I remember how I was an open-minded, friendly guy back then. I was not, however, actively interested in males. Hell, I wasn't even really interested in sex. I pawed off, yeah, because it felt good. But the idea of actually doing anything with anyone just never crossed my mind. I suppose in a lot of senses that I was very naïve. Some say I still am. So when I told him to get into the sleeping bag with me, it was with the most innocent of intentions.

He said no at first, that he didn't want to make me uncomfortable. When I insisted, he got it into his head that his body heat would help warm me up faster, and the decision was made. He wasn't going to not help me, after all. So I rolled over into the back of the sleeping bag, he slipped in behind me, and he zipped us up after he set the flashlight down beside the bag. He said he wanted at least some light, in case something happened to me. Then the wolf just put his arms around me, and I relaxed.

Good grief, how I relaxed. I got hugs from my parents, from my family, from Danielle Baxter in grade two... but no one had really held me before. I melted. Gods, I still melt a little now, thinking about it. Maybe I was just that cold, or he was just that warm. Maybe it was something more that the universe was pushing us towards. Maybe it was the hypothermia making my brain need that heat. Regardless of the reason behind it, he held me. And I pressed back into him.

I didn't notice at first. I was shivering with my full body as he held me close, and so I wasn't about to feel anything else besides his warmth. Then, an hour or so in his company, my shivering stopped and I just started wriggling slowly and constantly back into the wolf's body. I remember how he'd described it the next morning; that I'd moved like a wave against him, with my body rolling against his from my neck to my toes. That was probably what did it. We were both in our teens, though he was a couple years older than me. We were full of hormones and needs, all very male. And his gender was perfectly apparent to me, because I remember the moment I noticed that touch very clearly.

My eyes shot open and my whole body stiffened as I felt that different warmth, slightly damp and hotter than the rest of him, pressed against my backside. I was so naïve, I actually had to ask him what that was. I thought it was his tail. I actually thought it was his tail. What the hell else could it have been? Was I just stupid back then? Regardless... the wolf was nice enough to be honest with me. He said sorry, that it was just what happened to him all the time, that he didn't mean it and that it just felt nice to hold me.

He said sorry. Back then, I didn't even know guys liking guys was frowned on. I didn't know why it was bad. Still don't, actually. Someone needs to explain that to me sometime. But he apologized to me, like it was this big, terrible thing. There was fear in his voice... I remember how it shook and wavered. His ears lay back as he said it over and over again, and he drew away from me. I think it was my personal sense of right and wrong, mixed with a healthy dose of empathy for him that I pushed back against him and kept him close. I wasn't about to let his warmth go. I didn't. I couldn't.

I remember how I asked him why it was wrong. He told me that it wasn't right, that I was younger than he was and that it wasn't allowed... for a moment, I actually think he sounded younger than I even was, flailing for excuses like that. I later learned from him that he was worried I'd hate him for being gay, or something. Silly wolf. Though, I did learn that while he never thought of himself as being gay, that a lot of the other Scouts thought it was a pretty rotten thing to be. Their loss, I suppose.

It was almost funny, when I heard the wolf groan at my next question. Or was it less the question, and more how he felt? Regardless, I asked him if it felt good. It took him a moment to reply; he told me later that he wondered if I was just trying to get proof of him being gay, to get everyone else riled up at him. He kept being honest with me, and he said that it did feel good. And so I laid my head back down and started to wriggle again. I told him that I didn't mind, and if it felt good for him that he shouldn't mind either. I think that was the height of my maturity; I've never been so 'adult' since, have I? More fun this way, I guess.

By that point, I was feeling a lot better. Does it take long to recover from hypothermia if it's caught early? He never told me afterwards. I dunno... maybe I'll ask him tomorrow. I still couldn't sleep though, and my tiredness felt like it was letting up. I think part of what kept me awake was the gentle grind of the wolf's malehood against my backside. He never moved faster, and he never slowed down. It was just a smooth motion of his hips, timed along with the rolling of my body. I probably should have asked him if it would make me feel worse, since he was certainly getting my rump pretty damp again. Still, I didn't mind. It felt kinda good to me, even back then.

I woke up a little more when I felt him shift behind me. For a moment I thought he was getting up for something, though I don't remember if I could think of anything he might have needed. I know I rolled over slightly to ask him if I could help look, but that's when I felt him nuzzle into my neck. It was as soft and gentle as his hold on my body was, and it felt so very good. I moaned for the first time in my life; a cute little quiet sound, he told me. Meh. It's not cute.

He just nuzzled and nosed in against my neck for a moment, and I remember that I just rolled back onto my side again. Whatever it was that he was doing, it felt lovely and I didn't want him to stop. Then he started to lick and kiss at my neck gently, on the back and the sides and down onto my shoulder, and I almost begged him not to stop. I think my body finally woke up then, because I remember the way that my malehood started to slip up and out of my slit.

Oh, I knew what was happening. A male wolf was holding me, humping me gently, and kissing my neck. A male wolf. A male. And I was completely fine with that. There was no confusion; no shame; no concern. I didn't care about what any gods might have thought. I didn't care about what society thought. I didn't care about what the other Scouts thought, or what my family thought, or what my friends thought. I felt good. I felt happy. Honestly, I think I felt truly happy in those moments for the first time ever before in my life. Lonely little socially-outcast me, and I was being held. I was being cared for. I was being loved.

None of those other things or other people or other ideals mattered to me. The wolf behind me? He mattered. The warmth of his body, and the softness of his touch? They mattered. The beat of his heart, and the throb of his malehood? They mattered, too. I didn't know what to do; sex had never been a priority for me. I'd never even considered what I'd do if I got a girl into my bed. I think I honestly thought that it consisted of a lot of snuggling and some kissing. I was completely at a loss for how to be with another male. I know the wolf was, too; he told me so, later. That makes it all the sweeter as far as I'm concerned, though.

I remember feeling him start to kiss up along my neck as he leaned up and over me. Some part of me must have known what he was going to do, because I rolled back into him, tilted my head to meet him, and caught his lips on my own. That's my first kiss, right there. Well, my first real one, at any rate. It was one simple, passionate, needful locking of my lips to the wolf's, and we held it for a good fifteen seconds. I remember there was no tongue involved; I wasn't nearly so adventurous as to try that without hearing how it was meant to go first. Still, it sent my head spinning. I know I wrapped one arm around his shoulders; I had that wolf kissing me, and there was no way in hell I wanted him to stop. I was lost then. I needed him. I might not have known exactly what I needed physically, but I know that it was him I needed it from. Him, and right then.

When the kiss broke, we were both panting. Our eyes met in the dim light. I know I blushed, and I apologized for holding him in the kiss like that. I know he blushed, and apologized for kissing me at all. For a moment we just lay there in silence together before we both started a brief spurt of hushed giggling. Storm outside or not, we didn't want the other Scouts or the leaders to know what we'd done. I remember that I'd been the one to break the silence that reigned for a moment after the giggling fit was done with, and that I'd asked him if he'd liked it. He said he had, and then posed me the same question. I told him it was disgusting, and he looked about ready to throw up. Then I giggled again and told him I loved it, and he lightly slapped my shoulder. Oh, I was mean... but hey, he started it, so I guess it's really his fault, heh.

I asked him why he'd wanted to start doing what he'd done, anyway. It seemed so random to me, and I had no idea what would possess him to want to start kissing my neck or nuzzling me like that. He hesitated before he answered me, and I remember being confused as to why it would be such a big deal. Finally he told me; it just felt right to do it. He said he just wanted to, after he'd felt me push back into him while he humped against me. Little naïve me... I asked him if he wanted to keep humping me. Heh... his eyes lit up right away. I remember his face; his expression was that of a kid looking at a ton of candy, after being told it was all his. Just to make sure, he asked me if I really wanted him to. I don't think there was anything else in the entire world that I wanted in that moment.

So I rolled back over again, pulled one of his arms back around me and snuggled back against him. I closed my eyes and just set about enjoying his warmth. I remember how I felt like I could sleep with him there beside me, holding me tight and, yes, humping slowly against my backside. I was comfortable. I was warm. It felt good. But at the same time, I knew I couldn't sleep. Not then. No, not with him making me feel that nice. Why would I want to sleep? Why would I want to let those feelings go? I'm so glad I didn't sleep. It would have just been more moments with him that I would have otherwise missed.

Instead I wriggled back into him. My hips rolled slowly against his, in an awkward little way that became much smoother once I got used to him doing that. I pressed back tighter into him, I pushed my rump hard into his malehood. I held his paw; clasped it tightly in my hand and I remember how I squeezed it gently. I don't know why I did anymore than he knew why he wanted to grind his bits against me. We just did. Maybe that was what happened with the whole night; maybe we just felt our way through it.

I squeezed his paw, and his whole body seemed to shiver. His hips twitched and jerked, and I remember how they pressed forward and down against me. His malehood, as slick with his pre as my backside was at that point, ground right down between my cheeks. His tip surged forward and spurted a thick shot of that pre against my tailhole right before he pushed against it, and with a shared grunt from the both of us, the tip of his length slipped forward and into me.

That moment I remember quite clearly. He was a leaky puppy even back then, and amazingly so compared to me. I knew his shaft was all slick and wet with his pre, but I don't think I expected it to be so much so that it'd slip inside me. I was so relaxed and he was so wet that it didn't even really hurt; it was something that some gay friends of mine later in life would find absolutely amazing when we traded first-time stories. Still we both froze, me with the peculiar sensation of his pulsing tip pushed up into my backside, and him with the feeling of a tight tailhole wrapped around the first couple inches of his malehood for the first time. I don't know how he didn't just drive himself forward right away; he told me it was the best thing he'd ever felt in the world later on.

It was me that moved first. I wriggled my hips a little bit, and I remember a shiver ran through me that was completely unrelated to the cold. That shiver intensified when I heard the wolf behind me moan quietly, and his hips twitched just a little bit against me. Still, some part of him resisted the urge to sheath himself in me all the way. He moaned softly again as he leaned over me, and I remember how he told me that he thought that he'd accidentally thrust inside me. I giggled. How could I not?

I remember how I tried to squeeze down against him, just to see if he was actually in me. The groan and squirm of the wolf behind me confirmed it; obviously he was. I didn't know what that meant, but he seemed to be enjoying whatever it was that he was feeling at that time. I wasn't hurt, I didn't feel bad, and I was still hard as a rock. Something inside me told my body to move back against him, to settle back and let him push more of his length inside me, but I resisted that urge for the moment. Instead I leaned back to look at him. I asked him if it felt good, and of course he said yes. I asked him if he wanted to put more of himself into me, and in the sweetest tone of voice he could, the wolf asked if I would let him. We still go into that little, "May I?" loop sometimes, even to this day...

I answered by with a slow push of my backside slowly down onto his shaft. It was an unusual sensation for me; I had no idea what to expect from 'normal' sex, and there I was taking inch after inch of that wolf's malehood, right there in our tent. He very quickly got the idea, too; it didn't take more than a few seconds to see that I was okay with him filling me up. He moved slowly and carefully into me; later I learned that he did have some idea of what sex was meant to be like, and he applied a rule of 'slow and gentle' that probably helped to ensure that I wanted to be under him again and again.

While he worked himself slowly up into me, I didn't just lie there. I remember how I rolled my hips down against him, and the way he ground his malehood against my insides as he pushed deeper and deeper. It was still an unusual sensation, despite the tingles of pain that I felt as he spread me deeper and deeper. The pain didn't matter to me too much, though; that pre of his eased the passage of his malehood enough that the pain was manageable, and I was pretty damn relaxed. He continued to leak still more of the slick fluids into me as he moved deeper, but there's one more moment I remember very clearly. I remember how I rolled my hips down when he was almost all the way inside me, and how I felt his malehood grind over my prostate.

Maybe that was what really kept me coming back for more in the times after that. The tingles of pain that I felt at being stretched out for the first time vanished entirely from my mind when I felt him press against that one little spot inside me, and I had to bury my face against his pillow to stifle a deep, loud moan of pleasure. I didn't notice the wolf's moan; I was too wrapped up in the new sensations that flooded my body to be aware of anything else in those brief moments. My eyes squeezed shut as I leaned into his pillow. It smelled like him, and given the newfound 'friendship' we'd just developed, I remember how his scent set my fully-hard shaft throbbing just that much harder.

When I finally lifted my head and opened my eyes, the last couple inches of the wolf's length had disappeared inside me. His hips were pressed tightly to my backside as he held me close, and his arms squeezed me warmly back into him. He asked me if I was alright, if he'd hurt me, if I wanted him to stop... for a few long minutes I had to assure him that I was fine. He didn't even seem to believe that it felt good for me at first, but then I grabbed one of his paws and brought it to my hard malehood to show him. That certainly convinced him that I felt good, heh... After a moment of hesitation, the wolf wrapped his fingers slowly around that slick flesh and gave it a gentle squeeze that sent a fresh shudder through my body. I moaned again, though considerably quieter. At that point, it was all I could do to just grind back against him and enjoy the sensation of his malehood shifting inside me. I wanted more.

More didn't come... or at least, it didn't come right away. I don't think he knew just yet that he had to thrust into me to get the best feelings from his malehood, but he sure as hell knew how to work mine. I couldn't have cared less if he'd never touched my length at all the whole night. And yet there I was, his pre-slicked paw working up and down along that sensitive flesh of mine. His fingertips ran up and down and along the ridges of my shaft as if he wanted to explore each one. I remember how one particularly loud crack of thunder drowned out what was nothing short of a roar of pleasure from me when he gave my tip a squeeze and ground into me.

That was when I helped him figure out that he could thrust into me, wasn't it? I squirmed away from him for a moment as the thunder faded away, and... yeah. He pulled me back by the hips. I think that was the first forceful moment he ever had with me, but damn did it feel good. His malehood pushed right back down into me again, and that time I made sure I cut my cries off with his pillow. I took another deep breath of his scent as the fingertips of his free paw dug into my hip, and he told me later that I made quite a puddle of pre in his sleeping bag from that alone afterwards. Just felt that damn good, I guess.

I remember how we slowed down for a moment after I asked him to let me move around. He didn't say anything and simply let me move as I wanted. For a few moments the only sound inside the tent was that of his panting and my shuffles under the sleeping bag, punctuated by the occasional murr or whimper from one of us when I ground down along his malehood again. By the time I was done though he was behind and above me, and I had lain down on my belly beneath him. The big sleeping bag easily handled our new position and, while that left my own length trapped under me, I didn't care in the slightest. My wolf was still buried inside me, and in that moment he was my wolf.

Oh, he made me his dragon, too... he didn't wait even a second after I said I was done moving. He leaned down over me and rubbed up along my sides, and I distinctly remember how I had to bite down on his pillow again. It was more to silence my whimper of need than to endure any pain though, heh heh. Even when he drew out of me slowly and then pushed steadily back in again, I felt no pain. I was at peace, calm and relaxed. Nothing felt more natural in the world to me in those few seconds than when I felt his length hilt inside me once more. I felt right, when I squeezed down around him. It was perfect when we moaned in unison, and our voices mingled in the air. No... it was almost perfect. It was perfect the way our combined musk mingled in the air, and added to everything else. If anything gets me going faster than that scent, I want to know what it is...

Wrapped up in his scent and his warmth, and with the constant strokes of his paw along my malehood, I don't even know how I lasted as long as I did. He didn't let up the entire time, though. I wouldn't let him. For the first few minutes of my wolf's hips pushing firmly up against my backside, I remember how he'd keep asking me if I was okay. I'd always just tell him I was fine, that I'd tell him to stop if I needed it. I remember how I had screamed inside my head; how I begged him to shut up and to never, ever stop. I love how, even years later, he can still make me beg for that. He knows just how to play me, I guess... and it all started that night.

The last time he asked, I shut him up myself. I turned my head to the side as I reached back, and I pulled his head down to mine. I always hated my size... how for being a dragon, I was surprisingly short. I didn't care anymore the moment I felt the wolf lean over my body and I touched my lips to his again. I think I actually thought I'd found a benefit to my size, right then. I know I was... gah, it was perfect. It was just perfect. Geez, we've had some much, much better sex since then, but... I don't know. The feel of his malehood as it pumped awkwardly back and forth against my squeezing insides, coupled with the taste of his muzzle on my lips... yeah. Everything new, everything unique... If that's not perfection, someone better show me it.

He never stopped to ask if I was alright from that moment on. When my lips slipped away from his and that eager little kiss was broken by the tremors of our bodies, I remember how I looked back and him and pushed up with my hips. I hilted his length inside me and squeezed down tight against him, and I curled my tail around his hips to keep him from his thrusts for a moment. I told him, through the scrunched-up expression of pleasure on his face, that he wasn't hurting me. I told him that I wanted it... that I loved what I was feeling from him. I told him that I would let him know if it started to hurt me too much, and I asked him once if he would listen to me if I told him to stop.

He was silent for a moment, and I actually worried a little bit that I might have misread him, and his nature. But then he smiled at me, with this warm little twitch of his lips that set me melting into a veritable puddle right there beneath him. He leaned down slowly over me again, and he told me that whatever I wanted, he would do his best to give me. Gods, how I blushed when he said that... and it was only partly from the words, too. The other part was from his knot, where it just started to form at the base of his shaft as it began to push my tailring wider around it.

Back then, I didn't even know what I was getting into when I pushed back down against it, and asked him what was happening. My malehood sure didn't have any part that really swelled up, and a little burst of curiosity slipped through the pleasure of being so thoroughly filled. I remember how I released his middle from the grip of my tail as he explained what happened, that it got bigger as he played with himself. When he told me how big, I think my eyes widened a lot more than I would have liked, heh... He looked concerned immediately and told me that if I didn't want, he wouldn't try to push it in. That he only would if I wanted him to. Another warm pulse of affection ran through my heart as I smiled up at him, and even now I still remember perfectly how I decided right then that I didn't want that fat knot to ever have to go to waste. These days he calls it an addiction; I never let him not tie me if I can help it, heh heh.

Regardless, I remember how I wriggled my hips again and giggled at him. I told him it was okay, that we'd worry about it later... and that I wanted him to keep going. His face lit up anew, like I'd just told him that Christmas had come early or something. It might have been a mistake, really; his thrusts started up again quickly, and boy oh boy was he an eager puppy. I remember how I hissed and stuffed my face against his pillow, and I breathed in his scent deeply as he pounded away at my rump. I hadn't expected it; I wasn't ready for it, and only the fact that he'd been so gentle up until that point made the sudden jerks of his hips bearable. And yet, despite it all, my own length was hard as a rock as it ground down against the pre-soaked underside of the sleeping bag. It hurt a little to be taken so roughly, but damned if it didn't make me moan eagerly at the same time, too.

I remember how surprised I was when I first noticed what my body was doing. Until that one moment of realization, I thought I'd been lying pretty still. Then I noticed that I wasn't doing anything of the sort; my whole body was rolling with the strength behind his thrusts. I'd moved my legs up at some point so I was almost on all fours, even though the front half of my body was still angled down and against the floor. My arms had wrapped around his pillow, and I held it tightly as I panted and grunted and moaned against it. His scent washed out almost everything else in the tent to me, save for the peculiar and unique scent of two rutting males. That was one smell I grew very fond of, very quickly. It shocked me that, purely on instinct, I'd moved into a good position for him to take me. I never even knew what 'normal' sex was supposed to be like, but somehow I knew exactly how to move and lay so that my wolf could mount me. I've never quite figured it out.

Most surprising to me were my hips, though. It hurt a bit still when I noticed what they were doing, but obviously it didn't hurt too badly to stop them for pushing back into him. With every hard thrust my wolf made into me, my body met it eagerly with an equally firm buck. I helped him rut me; I helped him take me hard and fast and deep. And it hurt, sure... but the pleasure I got back from him was just so, so much greater. I'd never felt anything like it before, and that deliciously, pleasurably weird sensation of his shaft sliding back and forth inside me only awoke a hunger inside me for more. I wanted him to take me deeper, and faster, and as hard as he possibly could. As I felt his knot grow larger and tug at my still surprisingly snug tailring, I knew that I had to have that, too.

I think we both gave up on caring about our location at that point. We didn't care that there were other boys around us, who might not be so happy with what we had begun to experience... though I'd pity their lack of it in later years. We didn't care about the storm that drowned out our cries of passion, or the chance the troop leaders could hear us through it and come to 'break us up', as happened to another couple of boys at the camp the following year. We didn't even really care about the prospect of hurting one another. I think we trusted each other more than enough by that point to know that either of us could stop the other at any point. My wolf took me with all the strength in his body, and I took every thrust with wanton need. It wasn't just lust, though... there was something in that trust we had that denoted more. We never knew how much more until well afterwards, heh... and I can see it in his eyes, even as I look at him now, years on.

Nothing really mattered to us, save for us. The boom of the thunder only spurred us on, really... each crack of lightning found me bucking harder into him, as I pushed myself eagerly against that rapidly expanding knot. He met me with equal vigour, and I remember the sound of his panting as it rose above the noise of the storm outside. He made little yipping sounds too, as I recall, and I made fun of him for them after the fact. They were too cute to ignore as I thought back on it, but in the heat of the moment they sounded more like gasps for breath as he fought to drive himself harder into me.

That's not to say I didn't make any sounds of my own... each time he slammed his hips against my upturned backside, I grunted or growled or moaned anew. My own cries of pleasure were muted by the pillow I'd buried my head in, but I know for a fact that he heard everything that came from me that night. I didn't understand why it felt so good, or why I had to moan out every single breath. I didn't really need to understand it, though; I knew that it felt wonderful to feel his shaft as my wolf pushed it as far into me as he could go, and that it was only improved when my own malehood was ground down against the damp sleeping bag's interior. I didn't need anything in the world more than that simple knowledge.

By the time his knot had swollen to its full size, it was just pushed firmly against my tailring with every thrust he made. I think some part of his mind kept him from the tie, whether out of fear of hurting me or fear of being stuck and caught before it could go down. We were both young, and I was just too tight for him to stuff it easily inside, especially with the way I squeezed down around him. It occurred to me that it might help him get it inside if I relaxed a little bit, but I don't think it really registered at the time. I knew that every time I clenched myself down around my wolf's length, he'd moan louder and try to take me harder still. The pain had nearly completely vanished at that point, melted away in a sea of pleasure that left me dazed and light-headed.

It wasn't until he leaned down over me and wrapped his paw around my aching length that he told me that he really wanted to tie me. The wolf's words were broken, punctuated awkwardly by his pants and moans, but he got the message across more than well enough. He said I was too tight... that it was too big, and it wouldn't fit, and he didn't want to hurt me. I remember that he started another 'and', but that was the point where I knew I had to relax. I didn't hesitate; I didn't even think before I acted. I simply squeezed my eyes shut and pushed myself back hard, as I let my muscles relax as much as I possibly could.

By all the powers that ever were, I shook with pleasure. It stung like hell, but the sensation of being stretched open for the first time by that girthy knot was more than enough to override any pain I might have been overwhelmed by. It popped into me unceremoniously as I slammed into his hips again, and I remember how my whole body jerked as if a bolt of lightning had cut through the tent to strike me. Again I buried my head into the pillow as I cried out louder than I ever had before, and my inner walls squeezed down tight around my wolf's shaft once more. I twitched and shook harder still as I felt my climax wash over me, summoned from out of nowhere in the moment he tied himself to me.

He didn't slow down in the slightest, even as he felt himself locked to my body. His cry of pleasure was muted by the roll of the thunder and the howl of the wind as it joined with mine, but those hips of his just continued to pump harder and faster. That thick knot tugged at my tailring every time he pulled back, and as my own malehood pulsed and spurted my seed all across the inside of the sleeping bag he feverishly pumped what little length he had left against me. I think I was halfway through my own climax, my cries stalled out as I sucked in a breath when he hit his own peak... and gods, what a sensation to feel for the first time.

His body shook as hard as mine did, and I felt it in the way the base of his malehood ground up against my stretched tailhole. I could feel the way his knot throbbed against it, and in some distant part of my mind I knew he was filling me up with his own seed. Some part of that thought set me feeling all warm inside... it's a sensation that endures even to the present day. I pushed back into him, eager to feel all that I could of his climax, and I took every last drop of his seed into my body even as the lupine paw around my shaft milked me out all over the sleeping bag. Our moans and cries of pleasure intermingled, and I swear for a few moments I didn't know if I was me, or if I was him. I was completely overwhelmed by pleasure, and my mind was simply blown.

Then it started to fade away, and I understood everything. I knew what had just happened. I knew what we'd done. I knew that I'd loved it. My whole body tingled as if it'd been set alight, and I moaned softly once again as I lifted my head from the wolf's pillow. I turned my head slowly around to see him, and I blushed and smiled a little as I saw his eyes squeezed tightly shut, and his chest rise and fall rapidly as he panted for breath. His tongue lolled out the left side of his muzzle, like it always does after he's mounted me... and I thought in those moments that he must be the most gorgeous-looking creature in the whole damn world. Rose-tinted glasses in that moment, but I believed it. Still kinda do, truth be told.

When finally he opened his eyes, he finally noticed how I stared at him with that spent smile on my face. He immediately blushed as he looked down and away from me, and I giggled as I asked him what was wrong. I remember he told me that he didn't mean to tie me, in between his panted breaths. He told me that he was gonna keep it out, so it wouldn't hurt me. I think I told him that nothing in the whole world ever felt as good as when he'd stretched me open and popped it in, and that he shouldn't ever be sorry on my account. And then he lay down on top of me and we rolled back into our original position on our sides... with me stuck in the musky puddle I'd created, of course. He got stuck with the pillow I drooled all over though, so I guess we got even.

I'd forgotten by that point even why I'd been in his sleeping bag in the first place. The arguments I'd had with the troop leaders about everyone not liking me, and how no one wanted to stay in a tent with me... as those thoughts flooded back into my mind, I remember how grateful I was that they'd stuck me with this nice wolf. If it hadn't been for him, I probably would have been a very sick teenager when the morning came, if not worse. He took care of me, did things for me that no one else who was there would have done for me. And... well, yeah. He gave me the ride of my life, too. I was warm and well-fucked. Yep. And I loved it.

For the entire time that we laid there all stuck together, neither one of us said a word. It was the growing emptiness that signalled my wolf's shrinking knot that I think sparked my muzzle opening, and I leaned back to him and asked him quietly how he felt. I was nervous, I remember; my stomach was full of butterflies... heh, cum-drenched butterflies... Yeah, I was nervous. After what we'd just done, and how much I enjoyed it... I guess I was worried that maybe his feelings on what we'd done had suddenly changed. He stayed silent for a few more moments though, and I remember how I wondered if he'd fallen asleep. I know better now; he never just sleeps afterwards. He enjoys holding me against him too much. Benefit of being the smaller partner, I guess.

He squeezed me tightly back against himself, and I remember how I shivered as I felt his malehood shift inside me as he ground himself against my rump. He leaned over my shoulder slowly and whispered in my ear, and I remember how I blushed and smiled as he told me that nothing had ever felt so good or right in his life. I felt a chill run through me as he told me that he had one big regret about it all though, and somehow I gathered up the courage to ask him what it was. His response was simple; he just wished he'd gotten to know me earlier, before we'd done what we had.

I suppose I understood what he meant by that point. We'd kinda gone backwards. We started with what's a pretty big step for most couples, before we'd even gotten to know each other. If it had been either of us and anyone else, things probably wouldn't have worked out nearly the way they have. As it stood, I remember how I leaned back against him and hugged his arm tightly to my chest. I told him that I wished that I'd known him sooner, too... but that I was glad to have him then. Gods, it even sounds stupid to me now; I blushed back then, and I immediately told him that I didn't mean that we were together, or dating, or anything like that, and that I wouldn't presume anything of the like, and, and, and.

My protests melted away as he softly kissed at the back of my neck and gave me another warm squeeze. He told me in another little whisper that those kinds of discussions could wait until the morning, when I was all nice and warm and definitely feeling better. We could get to know each other, see what kinda things we liked... even if we could tolerate each other's company outside of sharing a sticky sleeping bag. I remember how I chuckled quietly at the suggestion, and told him I was looking forward to it. Briefly I suggested I should maybe leave his sleeping bag, but he told me quickly that he didn't want me to move. He added that I could if I really wanted to, but... well, I only said it because I wanted to know if he'd let me stay.

I was glad as he reached over to turn off the flashlight that kept us illuminated. It managed to hide the blush that I felt burn on my cheeks without me having to roll over and smother myself with the pillow again. I closed my eyes and wriggled back against him, and I remember how right it felt to have his arms squeeze me just a little bit tighter against him. It didn't hurt to have his malehood still semi-hard and buried beneath my tail, but really, by that point... it was really just more of a bonus. I was just happy to be in his arms, where I could enjoy the warmth of our bodies and all of those wonderful, new feelings on that first, soaked night.

The morning came, of course... and well, we did as well. Again. Fuck, we were up earlier than anyone else and he was still inside me; I'd challenge anyone else in my position to not get him to rut me again! We kept ourselves a lot quieter to keep from waking everyone else up, and his knot went down just in time to save ourselves from being caught by the others when the wakeup call came. We caught some suspicious looks from the others that came to 'wake us up', but I don't think anyone suspected anything amiss. We'd opened the flap of the tent to air out the thick scent of musk and sex as best we could, and the pile of wet clothes on equally wet sleeping bag convinced them of the truth of my hypothermia story. The others stopped questioning us; we'd gotten away with our secret little tryst.

While the wolf and I discovered we shared quite a few nice things in common, that probably wasn't what really brought us together. I look at him now, half dozing and waiting for me to snuggle up against him, and I see it's more than that. It's just... who we are. Who we always have been. His attitude and care and humour and outlook have always drawn me to him... and while I admit that I don't quite know what he sees in me, apparently there's a lot of good there to make him wanna stick around. I'm sure as hell not gonna complain.

I think part of why I can look back on it all so fondly is because that good time didn't just start our relationship. I mean, hell... it's cliché enough to have met him the way I did, so very, very luckily. It moves into the realm of cheesy if it'd been that easy for us to hook up, if we'd fucked and just suddenly 'fallen in love'. I've watched friends fuck-start a relationship with someone, and they just never last. My wolf and I... we took it slow. We took our time. We sure as hell had a hot time of it when we first got together, but... we were at least smart enough to slow down right away, to understand what had happened, and try to build a relationship from there that wasn't based in what had happened... regardless of how wonderful it had been.

Maybe I wasn't so immature a teenager as I thought, when I think about it like that. We might have started off steamily, but... well, it was a long road before he truly became my wolf. We built everything up, and supported each other through all the good and bad... the romance really was just inevitable, I suppose. I guess we were just blessed with the perfect way to meet... well, perfect if someone's into hot wolf-on-dragon action. I know I am!

I'm not sure I could ever explain how we truly came together to anyone, if given the opportunity to do so. All I know is that he's mine... and I'm his. It might have been a first time for the both of us, to experience all that pleasure... and sure, we might fall into quite the eager, rutting pair sometimes when the mood strikes us. But there's always that care; there's always that empathy there behind it all. We could fuck like the world's about to end... but between the two of us, I can't see how it could ever be anything less than making love. And I don't know if I could ever share that with anyone else in... in the...

Hmm? Well hello there, you little wandering wolfie-paw. What are you doing th- oohh. Ooohhh. Oh, someone's feeling a little playful, is he? Well, we just can't let that go, now...

And there it is, probably the last of the Soaked stories that you'll see out of me. They were an interesting little experiment in perspective writing, and I've learned a lot from each of the different pieces. Hopefully you've all been able to enjoy them just as much.

Please leave any comments below, and be sure to fav, score and watch if you deem it appropriate. Until next time, furballs.

Oh, and please note: this won't appear on FA, due to the nature of the males involved being technically underage. Or at least, close enough that I'm wary of it. I won't be writing this kind of stuff often; it just fit for this particular piece. Additionally, there likely won't be any M-Preg March pieces from me this year. I'm busy handling some delicate RL stuff right now, and I won't be able to focus on that writing until it's too late. Sorry!