Are compromises really necessary?
_[This was a quick story that I wrote for my girlfriend. I think it was part of some arbitrary punishment or something. In any case, I wanted to be challenged, and so she told me to write a story involving her, a coyote, and a black wolf, and to have both romance and feral lust. Heh.. She liked it, but of course I'm curious if others will enjoy it too, so putting it out there for whoever wants to read it.
It was written in one go, and is as such technically a draft, but I like how it turned out, so I haven't fiddled with it yet. ^^]_
A girl has needs, and she can drive herself nuts trying to find the guy in her life who can satisfy all of them. Most girls end up settling for the guy who fulfills the most needs, or at least the most important one(s)... But why settle? Why compromise when you -can- have it all? I can tell you from experience that having it all -does- make you happier. Allow me to elaborate.
A few years ago, I decided to settle for a guy who could provide me with one of the most basic of needs, namely security, fulfilling it so that I at least wouldn't have to worry about -that-. I went ahead and married this somewhat nerdy German Shepherd who had been trying to win my affection for several years. I had a bit of a reputation as a slut in school, even though most of the stories were highly exaggerated, but either he didn't know about it, or he just didn't care. I -had- considered the third option, that he was hoping to get into my panties, but that theory was put to shame on our first date. The most he did was to kiss me softly on the cheek as he said goodnight. I wont go too much into details, but he began to grow on me, and it was around that time that I realized I couldn't keep on thinking solely about fun, but had to think of my future, so we got married, and it was on the wedding night that I first realized, that maybe waiting until this night wasn't such a good idea after all. It's true to some extent that size doesn't matter, but this was just silly. I hadn't been with anyone else for a couple of months prior to our wedding, and yet I still couldn't feel a thing. I didn't tell him, though, but instead I played along, pretending to get off on it.
Let us fast forward a bit, as I really do not wish to waste time describing how things went. Don't get me wrong, Tristan was a wonderful husband and a good provider, but left a lot to be desired in the sexual department, and it didn't help that he wasn't exactly the most romantic guy in the world either.. But those are some of the sacrifices you have to make, right? At first I thought so, but gradually I began to realize that I did not have to make these compromises. Why should I be punished because men's needs are fewer and easier to fulfill? It hardly seems fair, so from that moment on, I allowed myself to actually notice some of the guys around me, that I had subconsciously filtered out previously, and once I did that, I wondered how I ever -could- have blocked some of these guys out.
My first fling was with this absolutely dreamy coyote at work. They say that office romances never work out, but then again, they also claim that size doesn't matter, so I'm starting to notice a pattern here.. The truth is that our romance worked out perfectly. He was assigned to the project I was working on, and it wasn't long before we could both feel the spark, but despite my best efforts to flirt with him, he was holding back, probably because he knew I was married. He couldn't keep on holding back, however, and so one day, while we were looking over some conceptual drawings, I felt his touch. It was soft and kinda cautious at first, but as I made no objections he got a bit bolder. Now you need to understand that Poul was at all times the perfect gentleman, so when his caresses got more intimate, this actually involved him lightly scritching and caressing my neck, one of my weakest spots. I softly moaned after just a few moments of this, and as I felt him moving behind me, his body pressing against mine, his breath on my neck, I tilted my head to the side in obvious invitation. At that moment I no longer had any doubts. I had to have him, no matter what.
I began to work late more and more. At first I was worried about Tristan catching on and finding out about it, but instead he seemed thrilled about it, as he had been feeling guilty lately about not being home with me more, spending a lot of time on a project at work, typing away at his silly little computer, whether at the office, or at home. I had considered the possibility of him cheating at some point, but decided I didn't care enough to find out, and there were no visible signs of anything like that, so while he was busy making a name for himself and his company, I was spending time with my big 'yote.
At first we tried to give the impression that we were indeed working, but eventually we decided to stop pretending, and to stop wasting the company's money by having them pay us for work we never did. Instead, we started going out. He often took me out to dinner, and also to see a movie sometimes, but as much as I enjoyed that, I enjoyed far more to be at his place, either enjoying his sublime cooking skills, or trying to dazzle him with mine. That is, when we didn't just order a pizza and then cuddled up while watching a good movie. Cuddling with as amazing a guy as Poul cannot possibly be described with words, as they all seem poor, even when combined.
It was during one of these cuddle sessions that we first made love. I was wearing a thin summer dress because of the heat, and he was behind me, in just his shorts, spooning me while softly letting his powerful paws run over my body lovingly like he usually did, his breath hot against my neck as he nuzzled it, occasionally whispering to me how beautiful he thought I was, making me blush brightly each time. He had done this many times before, but something was different this time around. His paws began to move to areas they hadn't yet been to, much to my regret, one slowly sliding onto my breast, covered solely by the flimsy fabric of the summer dress, while his other paw slid down to my thigh, softly caressing both areas lovingly, whispering to me again, only this time he whispered those three little words that girls long to hear... "I love you". I have to admit that I nearly melted right then and there, and when I finally regained my composure and my ability to talk, I whispered "I love you too" back to him, which was followed by a soft moan as I was brought back to his paws' ministrations by a soft squeeze to my breast.
As his paw began to slowly move up underneath my dress, I found myself wriggling back against you, gasping softly at what I felt swelling up against my rump. He felt huge, though I could also just have been comparing him to my husband's lack of endowment. His paw left my breast to move up to my muzzle, guiding it to tilt back so he could press his lips against mine. I only remember kissing him back longingly, and that is the last thing I remember, until I felt his length sliding inside of me, filling me up so wonderfully, stretching me out good. I almost cried when I felt him inside of me. I've always loved sex, bit this wasn't just another shafting. No this was deep, passionate lovemaking. The kind you never want to end, which is exactly how I felt as his long, pulsating member slid inside of me, softly kissing my cervix, only to pull back out, almost entirely so, and repeating the process, bringing me to more climaxes than any guy had before. That was the first time I "worked late" enough to have to "stay at the office" over night, but it definitely wasn't the last. It was the first of many nights spent in the arms of my big, wonderful coyote.
My relationship with Paul was constantly improving, despite the fact that I didn't think it could get any better. I especially recall one morning at his place. I had spent the night and was still sleeping, when something started to interfere with my dream. I don't remember what it was about, but I do recall it being odd that the person suddenly began to caress me. Slowly, I woke up, and realized that the caress was happening for real. My wonderful 'yote was running his paw over my breasts, caressing them through the thin, satin fabric of my nightgown, slowly moving down to press between my legs, at which point I realized I hadn't bothered to put my panties back on the night before, causing me to blush a bit as I felt his fingers pressing between the lips of my mound, and inside of my wetness. After a few moments it was no longer possible to tell my juices from the remnants of last night. He leaned in and kissed me lovingly, which I returned eagerly, moaning into it as I parted my legs for him in obvious invitation.
Slowly, as if he knew he had all the time in the world to do it, he moved between my legs, and I could feel his powerful member throbbing against my mound, making me whimper in obvious need. In that moment I knew that I would not be too proud to beg him to take me if it came to that, which of course it didn't. He needed me as much as I needed him, and we both knew it. I moaned out and arched my back as I felt him sliding inside of me nice and deeply, causing my breathing to grow a bit more erratic, whimpering with obvious need for him and his powerful masculinity. My arms wrapped around his neck as I pulled him in to kiss him deeply, and as he made love to me, I leaned up and nibbled on his ear lovingly, whispering to him, "Take me, love. Cum in me. Fill me with your puppies." These words made him grunt deeply, and he soon arched his back, groaning out with lust, like I had heard him do several times before, his hot seed splashing inside of me, his thick cock pulsating ever so hard with each spurt of seed, and as he collapsed on me, I caressed him, cooing to him lovingly, and in that moment, only he existed in my life.
I think it was about six or seven months after my affair started with Paul, that I began to feel like something was missing from my life. I had a hard time putting my finger on it, because I still loved Paul, as well as Tristan, for each their thing, and both my feelings of financial security and romance were being fulfilled, but still something was missing. After some time I realized what I was missing.. The bad boys back from school always fascinated me. It wasn't really them as a group, but rather the way that they just took what they wanted. They were in the opposite end of romantic lovemaking, and I was missing it a lot. But who would I approach about it?
Again, luck lent me a helping hand, as my hubby approached me one day, somewhat cautiously, and asked me if I would be okay with him having a childhood friend visiting for a couple of days. I asked about this guy, naturally, and found out that they had lost touch before school, and had been going to two different schools, ending up in different crowds, and my hubby quite frankly thought it was over, until he received a call a few weeks prior to our conversation. According to his friend, their friendship had made such an impact on him that he wanted a chance to get reacquainted. I realized that this just might be what I had been somewhat hoping for, so while trying not to sound too eager, I agreed to let the guy visit. Something I have never regretted.
I remember the doorbell ringing, and Tristan going out to open. I pretended not to remember it was today that Christian was going to arrive, and had dressed as sexily as I could without rousing suspicion from my husband, so when he called me out, I sashayed to where they were, and as Tristan introduced us, I felt Christian's appreciative gaze travelling over my body, as I looked over him. He was a tall, black wolf, with quite a few indications that he had been in combat before, either as part of the military, a thug, or just defending himself. No matter the cause, it was incredibly exciting to look at. I looked at his powerful chest and midriff, under the tight t-shirt he was wearing, along with jeans that, although quite regular, looked incredible on him. I wasn't sure he noticed my gaze until I looked up and into his eyes, watching as he licked his lips, unseen to my cute, but very naive sheppie. The air was thick with hormonal lust, and he didn't seem to notice.
To this date, I think my husband's biggest mistake was when he told me to show our guest into the living room, while he went into the kitchen to work on appetizers and drinks, something we both knew wouldn't take overly long. I reached out and took the wolf's paw in mine, and started to make my way to the aforementioned living room, only to be pulled back and spun around as soon as the shepherd was out of the room, Christian not even saying a word, he just pressed his lips against mine, and slid his paws up underneath my skirt to rub my naked ass, as I was wearing a thong at the time, a growl of lust and dominance escaping the black wolf's lips.
My paws moved up to his chest to try and push him off, but my resistance was laughable to say the least. We both knew that I wanted him so badly I could almost taste it. I stopped fighting him, and instead moved my paws down to his pants, unbuttoning and unzipping them, to reach inside, grunting as I realized he was going commando under them, the feeling of his shaft incredible. It wasn't like Paul's, but more like Tristan's, only far bigger, and I felt shameless as I roughly pulled down his pants, only to grunt as he slammed me up against a wall behind me, pressing up against me, his paws on my ass used to lift me, and instinctively I wrapped my arms around his neck, and my legs around his waist, the big male tearing my thong away, and then plunged inside of me in one, hard go, growling loudly enough that I was feeling almost certain that Tristan would hear, only barely able to stifle my own moan of delirious pleasure. This was exactly what I had longed for, and as he began to pound me hard enough to knock the wind out of me on more than one occasion, I knew right then and there that I was his bitch, as often as he wanted me.
As he continued to thrust, I found myself no longer caring if my husband found out, needing this so badly he might as well have known, and I wouldn't give this up, not even for him. Maybe for Paul, but even that would be on the condition that he would occasionally take this kind of control in the bedroom. Luckily it didn't seem like Christian was quite ready for Tristan to find out yet, and so he didn't hold back as he continued to pound inside of me hard and deep, his breathing growing more and more erratic, especially each time I reached a climax, clamping down on his thick cock while he continued to thrust, and that was when he bit down on my neck hard, while growling a deep "MINE!" into my scruff, holding me in this lustful grip while his seed, hotter than any seed I had ever had inside me, splashed against the walls of my pussy, as well as against and through my cervix. I was almost certain I could feel his little cells invading my womb, searching for an egg, and I found myself hoping they found one.
By the time Tristan returned with drinks and snacks, we were both fully dressed, well I wasn't wearing my thong, but aside from that nothing could be seen, and my gullible husband didn't notice the smell of sex lingering in the air. As he handed me a glass of wine, he said, in a rather serious voice, that he needed to ask me if I would be okay with Christian living with us for a while. At least just until he found a new job and got back on his feet. I had the hardest time keeping from bouncing happily as I said it was okay with me, and you know how these things goes. It's been almost five months, and Christian is still living here with us, and my hubby keeps bragging about how understanding I am, as I never complain about his friend being there.. If only he knew what we're doing whenever he's not around.. That is, when I'm not working late, of course..
As I said.. A girl has needs, and will be happiest if she actually goes ahead and works to fulfill these needs. My needs were fulfilled, and in the process I realized another need I had to have fulfilled. According to the doctor that need began to be fulfilled about three months ago, and will be completed in just half a year. I can't wait to see them. I bet they look just like their daddy, whoever that might be.