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Wolves in a Storm

It's strange how you can always tell when a storm is brewing. What little sunlight there was streaking through the clouds disappears entirely from view, plunging the world into a false twilight. A chill sweeps over the land, the cool fresh winds blowing gently, deceptively gently. And an eerie, ethereal silence falls over the countryside, broken only by the building wind, or the errant call of a sheep or jackdaw. True, the sky had been grey all day. But when that jet-black cloud came rolling across the peaks, it was clear that a serious storm was on its way. Indeed as the wolf and the collie bounded across the field, they could already feel the first pattering of rain on their fur. They had spent the last few hours out on the collie's sheep farm, and were expecting a bit of weather in the late afternoon. What they hadn't expected, though, was for the weather to close in so quickly.

A bright flash lit up the sky, followed a few seconds later by a distant yet ominous rumbling. Marlon the Border Collie led the way, with the larger brown-furred wolf, Bradley, close behind. Passing through a wooden gate in a fence, they emerged onto a gravel driveway which led up to the collie's weather-worn old farmhouse. As they neared the front door the young collie slowed, fumbling in his coat pocket and searching for the house key while the wolf called at him from behind.

"You'd better find that key before the rain starts!"

The collie kept his back turned, panting softly as he kept rummaging. "Oh seriously, you big puppy! Don't tell me you're afraid of a little bit o' drizzle?"

"Yeah, well, I'm not getting my fur wet. You know it takes me ages to dry, even when I use a towel."

"Aw... so what are you going to do if you get wet, sweetheart?"

The wolf mulled this over, the canine's Northern accent ticking over in his mind, before he answered. "Well then, I'll have to drip-dry. Do you want that? Big wet wolf in your house?"

Marlon spun around slowly, facing the wolf with a sly little smile, his ears perked and his eyebrow cocked. Bradley stared back dumbstruck.

"...Okay look, just open the door!"

Reaching back into his pocket, Marlon soon found what he was looking for. He pulled out a heavy iron key, slipping it in the lock and turning. Pushing the solid wooden door open, he scurried into the farmhouse with the wolf in tow. In the darkened hall both canines stood panting for a few moments, leaning on opposite walls, before Bradley got back to his feet and closed the door. They could hear the rain starting on the other side of the door, pattering heavily on the gravel, and the canines thanked their lucky stars that they didn't get caught in it. Even for two canines as close as Bradley and Marlon, there was such a thing as too much wet dog.

Bradley shrugged his coat onto the floor, and while Marlon was kicking off his boots, he headed through a door to the left and into the generator room. There, he pulled a lever, and with a clunk and a whirr, the machine rumbled into life outside. Back in the hallway, Bradley could hear a few light switches clicking. He emerged to see Marlon scurrying around, both of their coats gathered in his arms. He span around searching in vain for a place to put them amongst the clutter in the hall, before darting into the living room.

"...crikey it got dark all of a sudden... oh thanks for turning that on, Brad! I mean, middle of April and I'm still putting t' lights on mid-afternoon. As if I need to be using up t' gas. I'm low enough as it is. Oh God, that's another thing I've got to pay for this month. Another expense. So that's gas, feed, paying t' processors..."

Bradley unlaced his walking boots, sighing. Sheep farming was hard, and Marlon always had some matter or other to attend to. But he was a collie, an animal bred for hard work. And if ever there was a collie who was meant for work, it was Marlon. Here, hard at work on his farm miles from the world, the collie was in his element. He supposed that made Marlon the country dog to his city wolf. But the city didn't feel like home, with all those lights and cars and smoky exhaust fumes. Not to mention a job he hated, few friends, and a family who... well, the less said about them the better. And as for the country: what would a wolf from the suburbs know about sheep farming?

Bradley called out that he was heading upstairs. He heard what sounded like a murmur of acknowledgement, but Marlon sounded like he was in the kitchen so he might not have heard. Regardless Bradley headed for the stairs, climbing them and making a beeline for the main bedroom. The first thing he noticed when he opened the door was the collie's musk, strong throughout the house but deliciously thick in here, and overlaid with a rich masculine scent he recognised instantly as his own. The double bed had lain unmade since this morning, sheets and pillows strewn every which way, and... were those claw marks in the mattress? From the state of the bed and the clothing scattered around the floor, it almost looked like a storm had hit the bedroom itself. Not far off, Bradley thought, remembering last night's wild maelstrom of fur and claws.

At first he was going to find his holdall, take out that novel he'd been reading on the train up here, flop down on the collie's bed and start reading. But then he looked out of the window, where the rain was battering the window and the sky had darkened to grey. Those grim skies drew the wolf in, and he made his way over for a closer look, stepping over the clothes and books and general detritus that littered the floor. Once there he leant on the windowsill, gazing at the sodden world below. This countryside in which the collie's farm was set, this wild land of sheer peaks and barren moors, looked even wilder and more foreboding now that the storm was closing in. The wind was howling down the valleys, and the sky was growing darker, and greyer, and dimmer the whole time. Already a shower had picked up, drops of rain dotting the window. But then as the wolf watched on, the rain really came. All across the moor, over every hill and valley in sight, the rain kept falling, rattling on the roof tiles above and the gravel driveway below. Heavier and heavier it fell, the world filled with the crash and the hiss of rain, interspersed only with an occasional electric white flash.

The sound of steps and creaking floorboards in the corridor. Bradley swivelled his ear in the direction of the door, but kept his focus on the rainstorm outside. The bedroom door opened with a slight squeak, and in the door frame stood Marlon, the slightly built collie with his fluffy patchwork of fur, clenching two gently steaming mugs in his paws. For a moment he stood, just watching and admiring the tall powerful wolf silhouetted against the dark sky.

"Hey Brad, you alright?"

The wolf nodded. "Come on over."

Marlon edged his way around the clothes and boxes littering the bedroom, careful not to spill the drinks in his mugs. At the window, sidling up to the wolf, he held up one mug with a wide-eyed smile. Bradley looked down at the collie inquisitively.

"What's this?"

"Lancashire Tea. I tell you Brad, there's nowt like a good cuppa after a hard day's work."

Bradley frowned. "Seriously Marlon, are you twenty-five or sixty-five?"

"Well if by that, you mean I oughta be drinking that trendy Starbucks stuff, 'cos that's what furs my age are expected to do, forget it. All that artificial, sweet sugary stuff, it's loaded with E numbers, and it's no good for you. No, there's no beating a proper cup of tea. Simple, honest and good."

Taking the warm mug with both paws, Bradley brought it to his lips and took a sip. He closed his eyes and gave a deep refreshed sigh, before taking another grateful drink. There were times for skinny lattes and macchiatos, and there were times for a simple hot brew. This time was undoubtedly one of the latter. Marlon meanwhile was clutching his mug tight, warming his paws and occasionally nursing his tea.

"Look at that, Marlon." Bradley had turned his attention back to the window, and he was joined a moment later by his mate.

"Crikey, that's heavy now isn't it?"

"Can say that again. I hope your sheep are alright, Marlon."

"Yeah, they'll be fine. No doubt they'll be huddlin' up together right now or summat. I mean, we were forecast rain today an' all. Not this heavy, mind. Course we always used to get storms up here when I was a pup, but never ought like this."

"Oh, when I was a pup...Lancashire Tea... you're such an old farmer, Marlon."

The collie simply shrugged. "Hm. I guess I am."

Neither dog spoke for a while. Bradley set his mug on the bedside table, still half full, and both canines focused on the storm outside. Outside, all was the rain, battering the ground and blotting the surrounding hills from view.

"Just look at it, Marlon. Pretty remarkable, isn't it? All that power and energy, and it's all out of our control. I can't stop it, you can't stop it, the richest fur in the world can't stop it. All this freedom of one kind or another that we fight and die for, and still there are so many times when we're just... powerless. Even here in the countryside, probably more than anywhere else, you have so much depending on the whims of nature. Really makes you feel rather small."

Another flash of lightning streaked the sky. Marlon's eyes widened. "You know Brad, you can be pretty philosophical sometimes."

"Yeah, in a first-year undergrad philosophy-class kind of way."

"Well, I've met plenty of furs who you'd expect to be thoughtful. Farm managers, my sci-fi group, even people I saw at uni for six years. But... well, I don't want to call them 'shallow', but they were just never interested in t' big picture. It was always their pet interests, or else really trivial stuff like who's winning the latest TV talent show. But when we're together, it's different. And talking with someone who's thoughtful like you, it's nice. You'd be hard pressed to come across an actual philosopher, anyway. The thing about all those beardy guys on the philosophy books is that they had a consistent way of seeing life and the world, and they lived by it. But that's very hard to do. Very few are flawless enough to be an Ubermensch... er, Uberhund." Marlon sipped his tea. "But you can come close. I know you'll hate me saying this, what with everything you've been through, but... you are pretty smart. Not to mention being quite amazing in... other departments."

Marlon gave a warm smile. The wolf was still pressed to the window, his paws raised, claws resting on the windowsill. Suddenly he gave an inquisitive 'arf?' as the collie rested his head by the wolf's side, nestling into the lupine's sandy brown fur.

Plucking the mug from the collie's paws and setting it on the bedside table, Bradley slipped behind the smaller dog, placing his paws on his mate's shoulders. Marlon rolled his shoulders back, murmuring with pleasure as faintly as he could. His tail started to wag, and he had to fight to keep it from thwacking the wolf's legs. But he relaxed once he had settled into the wolf's clutches, giving a faint murr of contentment as the wolf's paws ran in little circles over his shoulders.

"Think about it, Brad. Two canines, caught up together in t' midst of this storm. All that power, all that wildness. Nature at its rawest. You can almost feel it."

The wolf's paws worked away, pressing firmly into the collie's shoulders before slipping down his back, gripping the hem of the collie's shirt and tugging it upwards. Marlon raised his arms, and the wolf lifted the shirt over his head to leave him bare-backed and fluffy. Straight after this Marlon heard the wolf's own shirt rustling, and before he knew it, the wolf's thick warm fur was pressing and bristling against his back. Marlon gave a deep sigh and arched his back, planting his own hands on the windowsill and slitting his eyes as the wolf's deep voice reached his ears.

"Just keep watching the storm, Marlon. Just keep watching it."

Those paws fell on him once more, broad and tender and locking him into position. A pointed wolf muzzle appeared by the sheepdog's right, rubbing and nuzzling the side of his face. Marlon nuzzled it back, licking at the wolf's nose as best he could and being licked sloppily in return. The weight of the wolf rested snugly on his back, bending him over slightly. His breath quickened as the big dog wolf swayed and bumped into him, warm fur and muscle covering his back in a most delicious way. Then, the wolf started stroking over his sides, gliding through his black-and-white fur, quickly down and then slowly up, whilst all the time a gently growling wolf breath grew deeper, hot by his right ear. Those paws came to the front, making the collie squirm slightly as they brushed in long wide strokes, all over his white-furred chest. A claw flicked over the collie's sensitive nipple, once, then twice, and the collie opened his muzzle in a sudden and thirsty pant. The paws resumed their rapid descent, smoothing over his stomach until they fell at his belt buckle. By this point both animals were breathing hard, harsh, growling through their noses. Marlon's own paw joined the mission to loosen his trousers, fumbling with the buckle until both dogs heard a clink of metal and Bradley pulled the leather belt through the loops and away. Marlon snapped his trouser button open and slipped both paws into his waistband, getting ready to shuffle and let his trousers fall to the ground, but Bradley held his hips still.

"Alright, paws away. Just leave this to me."

The collie did as he was told, bringing his paws back up to grip the windowsill while the wolf pulled his trousers just below his rear, revealing both his collie-butt and his modest canine package. His nose hovered less than a whisker from the window, his hot breath misting up the glass. Out of the corner of his eye, Marlon saw the wolf reaching for the bedside table and opening the top drawer, and he whimpered ever so slightly when, just as expected, the wolf pulled out a now-familiar bottle of clear liquid. Soon he was feeling it, that silky-smooth cool liquid being smeared all over his rear, that broad yet tender wolfy paw soothing his tail. It was a stage in the ritual that Marlon loved, just as much as any other. And even after these few months, neither canine would be particularly ashamed to say that they still needed that bottle. The wolf was just that much larger.

Unfastening his own belt, the wolf gave a low growl as he retook his station behind the exposed collie. Marlon heard a rustle of denim, felt a single paw clap to his butt, and before long he was being ground by what he knew to be a very full wolf sheath. The earthy scent of the wolf reached his nose once more, muskier this time, mingling in the air with his own and filling it with unmistakeable traces of male arousal. And as the powerful wolf bumped into him, that paw gripping him just that little bit tighter and some impatient huffs picking up behind him, Marlon grinned and let his tongue fall from his muzzle. Goodness, the wolf wasn't wasting any time today. The wolf was breaking into little grunts, his sheath snagging on the collie's fur, pulling back to reveal the smooth tip of his lupine arousal, smearing the first of his precum into the collie's fluff. Growling in pleasure, the wolf gathered the collie's tail out of the way with his free paw, pressed right up to the dog and ground very slowly against that furry collie-butt, his thick tapered erection soon building to an impressive length. It was heavy, it was meaty, and judging by how wet the collie's fur was getting, the thing must have been dripping with lupine fluid. Taking away his paw, he snapped open the lid of the bottle once more, drizzling a good amount of its contents up and down his erect shaft. Then, closing the bottle and tossing it to the floor, he guided his erection to the collie's unguarded tailhole, pressing just his tip against the canine and making him quiver.

"Oh... wolfy-wolf..."

A blitz of lightning and a crash of thunder, and Bradley the wolf thrust into his collie, drawing an instantaneous howl from the canine, a wild harsh call that clashed with the thunder as the pain from his tailhole ripped throughout his body. Immediately the wolf froze, a good three inches of his thick lupine cock buried deep into his collie, twitching and stretching the smaller dog beneath. He asked if Marlon was alright, but Marlon just kept whining, nodding his head, wriggling his butt to impale himself further onto the wolf. Instinct screamed at him to stop, to get away from the wolf, to refuse to let himself be penetrated and broken so easily. But Marlon didn't care. This was his wolf, and he knew he could take more. A lot more. And so with a heavy, lust-ridden predatory growl, Bradley plunged even deeper into the sheepdog, revelling in the stretch of that tail. Marlon's howl grew more and more breathless, his eyes rolling backwards and pricking with tears as that huge wolfcock sank upwards inch by inch, filling him, knocking the air from his lungs, until he felt the wolf's hips nestle against his own, eight whole inches of pedigree wolf embedded deep within him.

Marlon was on fire. His fur was sparking, bristling and standing on end. All he could do was whimper weakly as he felt his tail throbbing dully around the big wolf, in time to his quickening heartbeat. And all he could see and all he could feel was raw energy, nature tearing through him just as it tore through the countryside below. The wolf was keeping motionless, letting the collie readjust to these familiar but oh so painful dimensions. And soon enough the pain began to subside, never becoming tolerable as such, just manageable. Swallowing hard and craning his neck, the dog whispered to the wolf.

"Alright Brad... mmm, my big wild wolf. Do your worst."

The wolf didn't need telling twice. First, Marlon felt the wolf gripping his sides, slowly tightening his claws. Then he heard a slight squelch, and he gritted his teeth as the lubed lupine drew back, grating over the collie's tight tail muscle. He had hauled out nearly all of the way when he suddenly backed up and ploughed his entire cock deep into the collie and made the little dog scream until he was hilted fully once again. Numb, breathless, Marlon the collie stood shaking and whimpering under the weight of the wolf, head bowed, clutching the windowsill, the heat and the energy of the predator smothering his back and cutting a wicked heat right through his body. One last time the wolf took it slow, hauling his wolfcock out and driving it in deep. Then, with a lewd snarl and his fur standing on end, Bradley really began to fuck his collie, bucking hard and keeping close to the sheepdog with his wet growling breath billowing over the collie's neck. For Marlon, still growing accustomed to the sensation of being stuffed full of wolf penis, being rutted so hard was almost too much to take. Of course the wolf was rough, and of course the collie knew he would be. But it still made Marlon feel so delicious, knowing he could share this wild copulation with such a strong male wolf, even if he was utterly powerless to stop being mated. Bradley was wonderful, sensitive when he needed to be, but a completely different animal when all alone, rough and dominant and ferocious. And hopefully, this encounter would be the first of many that evening.

He could see it, the flow of nature, omnipresent and all-pervading. And with the huge lupine drilling into his tailhole, he could feel it too. Plus judging by his mate's frantic snarls, and the thickening of that wolf length around the base, he was already building up to something very impressive indeed, one erratic buck knocking the canine head first against his window. His mind jarred back into focus.

"God, careful Brad. You'll break the window!"

Hearing this, the lupine snarled and bumped the collie against the windowpane, and again, and again, smacking the battered collie against the glass as if to prove him wrong. Just as suddenly though he paused, wondering if he'd gone too far. However Marlon's soft chuckling suggested otherwise. The collie wondered aloud if that was the best the wolf could do, and got his answer when the wolf pulled tighter on his tail and thrust harder, drawing out harsh little yips from the dog as he worked more of his length in and out of the helpless canine.

The canine's back was arched and the side of his muzzle was mashed against the window. The chill from outside and the condensation of his breath soaked into his fur, and only added to the plethora of sensations he was feeling: coolness on his muzzle, and searing heat in his rear. Vaguely he became aware of his own sheath slipping back and his collie length emerging and swelling proudly underneath him, rather more modest than the lupine but still very rapidly building in arousal. Much as he wanted to wrap his claws around that meat and paw like a horny mongrel in a kennelful of bitches, he just couldn't bring himself to. Without his paws putting up resistance, Bradley might very well have sent him smashing through the window. And so Marlon just stood there panting desperately, muzzle to the glass, feeling his cock and collie balls hanging heavier, and heavier, all of his energy utterly drained. It would take far more strength than a little collie could muster to stop the wolf now. An entire pack of dogs could barely have stopped him. With his eyes half-closed and his mouth drying out, he managed a shrill whine and gave some weak nudges to counter the lupine's fearsome assault. His tail was slick with the lube and copious amounts of wolf pre, the ecstasy of another animal taking him plain to see from his pleasured grin. Then the collie felt his tail flop to the side as both wolf paws gripped him and hauled him back and forth, back and forth over that fiery wolfcock, the lupine grunting and putting on one final burst of speed. Marlon braced his paws on the glass, readying himself for what he knew was the final assault. He felt the wolf's wet nose brushing under his flattened ear and through those hot growling breaths he heard the wolf whisper something so simple, and yet so fitting.

"I love you, Marlon."

This was no wild mindless cry, shouted blindly in a moment of passion. It was true, possibly the only thing that the young lupine had been sure about in more than twenty years. And now, finally, it was time to show the collie just how true this was. The wolf's growls grew longer and louder and more vicious while his muzzle hung open and he slavered and drooled down his mate's neck, his thighs tensing and his grip tightening and his wolf balls churning and churning as an electric charge shot through his whole body over and over until suddenly he jerked and howled, howled to the clouds and the storm and the rain, eyes closed and wolfcock swelling, swelling, wedged into the collie while his thick base built into an even thicker knot, stretching the collie's already-ruined tail ring even further and making the dog yelp and yelp. The wolf gulped for air, before howling all the louder, his tip snaking even deeper into the little dog's body as his knot grew bigger and rounder within his mate, a monstrous amount of wolf meat now filling the collie up. A blinding flash of lightning, followed immediately by a rumbling crack of thunder which rolled around the hillsides as the lupine weathered his climax, his howling becoming more frantic and uncontrolled. Then, finally, with an almighty sigh, the powerful brown-furred wolf started to jackhammer, thick gouts of steaming lupine semen spurting deep into the collie, filling the canine with a perverse sticky warmth, wolfcock pulsing, the liquid filling every space available. He pressed his weight onto the collie's back and battered the sheepdog as he emptied himself into his mate.

Slowly the collie curled up, crumpling under the weight and whining madly at the pleasure that the wolf was dishing out, his body and mind struggling to register the eleven whole inches of lupine cock buried in his lower body. He simply hung there weakly, broken and impaled. As he sensed the wolf coming down from his peak, the little dog felt surprisingly empty, almost like he'd come himself. That was when he glanced down at the window, and saw several strings of collie cum sliding down the window pane. Marlon panted, staring in disbelief. He hadn't touched himself or anything. The wolf's rutting alone had made him climax. He studied his length, running a claw along it as it stood to full attention with knot emerged, the last of the liquid spraying from the tip and pooling on the carpet below. Wow.

With the two canines locked together as they were, and Marlon's slender body being stretched in ways the wolf couldn't even imagine, the last thing Bradley expected to hear was the collie chuckling.

"What?"

The collie chuckled a little more. "Big wet wolf."

"Oh God, I can't believe you remembered that."

The collie shook his head in amusement, before turning his attention to the countryside once more. The storm showed no signs of letting up, but that was okay. They weren't exactly planning on going outside again, anyway.

"So... w-what now?" Bradley stuttered, before glancing a lick behind the collie's ear. "Do you want to get into bed, or, or lie on the floor, or..."

"Shhh..." Marlon whispered, grinning, squirming as he felt the wolf twisting and flexing within him. "There's only one thing we can do: wait for the storm to pass."

By Ziegenbock