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I got an email from someone recently, complaining about my lack of a second part to this story. I dont' like it, and will probably rewrite it. But here it is anyways, rushed. And there is actual yiff this part.

Continued right where the last one left off

~~~~

I sighed, dried off, and curled up in my bed, stark naked and still semi-erect. I decided to sleep, thinking that perhaps sleep would be what would work to cool down my overheated body and my tired head. I knew that when my wife came home, she would curl up in bed against me, and we'd end up having sex, and it would be the same old thing between us. Sex with a sigh, she used to call it. We'd go to sleep, her wrapped in my arms, me awake and full of turmoil. Nothing ever changed, it seemed.

Except that now, I had these new emotions coursing through me. These new feelings of being...different. Strange. Maybe I was starting to understand what was missing. Or maybe I just...needed to have my head examined. At that time, I didnt' know what to think.

My wife didn't come home that night. She called me, and said that she had some work she needed to finish, and she'd be home in a few days. I understood that. Her work often took her away for days on end, quite suddenly. I never questioned this. I never wondered why a real estate agent would need to be away for days like that. Maybe I didn't want to know. Either way, she called that fateful night, and she said that I would be alone for a few days.

I fell into a fitful sleep, curled around a pillow, tears on my face. There was nothing I could do, I thought, about the emotions coursing through me.

I woke up to screams in the house, and doors slamming. I could hear my daughter crying downstairs, and the soft voice of that young wolf, Greg, trying to calm her. I jumped up, swiftly pulling on my pants, thinking that something aweful must have happend, and I ran downstairs as quick as I could.

My immediate assumption was that something had happened like rape. Afterall, I knew that Prom was the time when most young wolves lost their virginity. I wasn't such a prude that i didn't think my little girl would never experiment at all. So I assumed that perhaps something like that had happened.

What I found was vastly different. I found my daughter sitting on the couch, crying, and her boyfriend standing against hte wall, looking quite lost and scared. Though I could see nothing was seriously wrong. She did not look hurt, and she didn't seem to be truly very upset. She was just...crying. I walked over to her, and laid a hand on her shoulder.

"What's wrong darling? Did something happen at the prom?"

She looked up at me, tears in her eyes, her makeup smeared on her fur.

"Daddy...I have to tell you something... I didn't know until tonight, and Greg and I thought that we could fix it, but we can't, and i just can't live like this anymore."

I looked down at her, meeting her tear-filled eyes with calm understanding adult eyes, knowing that my little girl needed her daddy to listen. I slowly sat down beside her, and wrapped an arm around her.

"Just tell me what it is. I promise not to get mad."

She sighed loudly, then started crying again. Amidst her sobs, she spoke.

"Daddy...I'm...a...lesbian. Greg and I only went out tonight because I was going to have sex with him to try and get rid of that, but it just didn't work, and I'm sure now. I'm a lesbian daddy! I don't want to be!"

I looked down at her, then pulled her into a hug. I stroked her head gently, making soft noises of reassurance at her.

"It's okay, love. It's okay. Maybe you're just confused. Maybe we can figure out what to do."

She shook her head and curled up against my chest.

"No, daddy. I really know I am now. Tonight Greg and I wanted to know for sure. I've had suspicions for some time...but I just didn't know. We were going to try to have sex, but...we just couldn't do it. I felt nothing dad! NOTHING! No pleasure at all. It was just...mechanical, like eating, or drinking, nothing there. I felt only friendship for him. Nothing of love, nothing of lust, nothing that any of the other girls describe. Gods, why am I cursed like this?"

I held her close, rocking her, shushing her softly.

"It's okay, darling. It really is. Just as long as you're happy, I'm happy. We'll get used to this eventually. I'll support you, I swear. I could never get angry or upset about you being like this. I just couldn't do it. I'll support you, dearest."

I knew that the only reason I was being so supportive was because I knew that there was something different about me. That I was not straight either. I knew that my daughter was going through the same things I was. I felt then...maybe this was my fault. Maybe i had the bad genes in me. Maybe it just...ran in the family. Maybe it was true...and this time, the apple wasn't falling far from the tree.

I sighed softly, then smiled down at her, and kissed the top of her head, hugging her gently.

"Don't worry, love. Just...be happy. I suggest you go to bed, and think more about this tommorrow. I'll let your friend out. Just go to sleep, darling, and we'll talk mroe in the morning. This isn't something that we should try to discuss when you're so tired and overwrought. Go wash the makeup from your face, and go to sleep. We'll talk about this in the morning."

She stood, hugged me one last time, then went up the stairs to her room, silently. I knew she was still crying, but all I could do was sit there with a look of pain on my face. When I heard her door close, I let my body sag, and rested my head in my hands, and sighed..

I spoke then, my voice muffled by my paws. A tinge of anger was in my voice, and I knew it. But it wasn't truly directed at him. It was directed at me, at the perversion I could feel in me even then. Even then I felt like I should stand up and wrap my arms around that beautiful young male wolf that stood against the wall, so silent and still. Even then, I wanted to simply stand up and take him to me, and remember the tenderness of youth through the touch of his body.

"So, proud of turning my daughter into a lesbian?" I lifted my head as I spoke, then I quirked an eyebrow at him. He smiled over at me, quirked an eyebrow back and walked towards me.

"Not as proud as I'm going to be, if my hunch is correct, sir."

I looked up at him, my eyes wide. That's when he made a move. He was already close enough to me, but he bent over and quite deliberately kissed me on the muzzle. He jumped back again, silent, a smirk on his face, standing against the wall, his arms folded, his body relaxed. I sat there, silent. I reached up a paw, and touched my mouth, where he had kissed me. I looked down at my paw, where just the faintest tinge of his saliva glistened, then I looked back up at him, and spoke softly.

"Why?"

He smiled at me, his eyes shining with mischief, his body pose cocky and assured.

"Because, sir, I saw how you looked at me when you saw me earlier tonight. I coudl smell that you were aroused. And I know I'm not straight. I'm pure bisexual sir, and while your daughter is quite beautiful, I'm afraid I just don't have a chance with her. She knew about my...tendencies...which is why we were dating to begin with."

I looked down at my paws.

"But why did you kiss me?"

He shook his head.

" I don't know. Maybe I wanted to kiss someone older. Maybe I wanted to see what you really thought. Maybe I wanted to see if you would act with revulsion. Maybe I'm just a horny young male who was planning on getting laid tonight, and is thus quite frustrated. I really don't know. I'm young. We do random, impulsive things. I'm sure you remember being young once."

I shook my head, my blood pounding from that single kiss, my body throbbing. I sat there, suddenly feeling very old, and very tired. I didn't understand. I didn't want to. It hurt to think about the things running through my head. I wanted to reach out and pull that young wolf to me, pull him into my lap and set my tongue and paws to every inch of his young furred body. I wanted to so bad, it hurt. I whined softly, and buried my head in my paws.

I spoke softly then.

"The door is over there. You can let yourself out, I'm sure."

I simply sat there. Waiting to hear the door open and close. Knowing that if I dared to look up, I'd be unable to control myself. I just kept telling myself, "you're a 40 year old wolf. You're MARRIED. You have CHILDREN! Don't throw that all away because you have perverted urges running through your blood."

I didn't hear the door close. Instead, I felt a weight sit down on the couch beside me. I froze then, sitting there, shaking with sobs I wasn't about to let out. I just sat there, hoping I was imagining things, hoping if I never opened my eyes, he would just go away, and leave me alone.

No such luck.

That weight moved on the couch, making the springs squeak a little, then I felt it. He had moved over until he was sitting right beside me. His leg touching my leg, his shoulder touching mine. His fur touching my fur through the thin fabric of our pants, his lean muscles just barely touching my body. I sobbed then, a broken, soft sob, and lifted my head.

To find brilliant gold eyes staring into mine, soft understanding eyes that shone with a beautiful inner light. I felt at that moment like I looked into the eyes of an angel. Of course, an angel would not smell of lust like that young wolf did...but for that moment, I fell into those eyes, and felt a peace settle over me. This wolf and I were going to do something bad, something shameful, something that would make me wake up feeling like the lowest shit in the world, but at the time, I knew it would feel so good. I knew it would feel good, and that's all that mattered then. Caution? The knowledge that my life would change forever? At that moment, my brain knew nothing of that. I knew only that I was going to do this, and nothing would stop me. Nothing would stop up. I could see the silent acceptance in his eyes as well.

He spoke softly then, reaching out a paw to lay it on my knee.

"We both know what we want. We both know what we're feeling. I can smell how much you desire me. And I know myself well enough to know, I want you. I'm no virgin to my own sexuality, sir, and I think that we should explore this together. At the very least, let me take care of that problem."

He moved his hand from my knee and stroked it lightly down my sheath, just barely whisping over the cloth that covered it.

I shiver, whimpering softly from his delicate feathery touch, tears falling down my cheeks. Shivering, I touched his paw..

"But...this is wrong. Men don't do this! This is just WRONG!"

Every emotion in me was conflicted. Half of my brain screamed about how young he was, about how men didnt' do these things together, how everything was wrong wrong wrong, while the other half of my dream wanted to relax and take this young wolf to me, wanted to feel and touch and taste and be ALIVE with the wonder that was his furry body.

In the end, I gave up. I gave in. I had already accepted it after all. I shut down the rational part of my brain, thinking..."What could one night hurt? What could one encounter?"

I sighed softly, and wiped the tears from my eyes with my paw. I spoke softly to him then, leaning over to kiss his muzzle gently, whispering against his mouth, the soft fur of his muzzle tickling my jaw.

"Alright. I want to know."

He smiled, and stroked my shoulder with a paw, his fingers like brands of fire on my skin.

"In my car then. We wouldn't want to wake your daughter.Let her sleep. I'd hate to traumatize her anymore than I already have."

So I went. We stood, he grabbed my paw and held it tight to him, keeping me from bolting, and we walked outside, to climb into the back of his car like two horny teenagers. He went first, and sat against the far side, facing me as I crawled into there with him. I could see him smiling softly as I moved into his car, his eyes glowing with a tender light. I sat there, waiting, not sure what to do, what to think. After all...I had never even thought about these things before, and here I was, full of lust, full of desire, full of want for this lovely wolf that smiled at me so appealingly. I folded my paws in my lap, and looked at him, wondering how to begin this alien interlude.

I didn't have to begin. He moved first.

He moved quickly, straddling me, his paws on my shoulders, his muzzle pressed against mine as he kissed me, his tongue lapping hungrily against my lips. My eyes shot wide at his boldness, and I jumped at his sudden motion, then relaxed as he pushed me back down, his paws forceful on my shoulders, his mouth hungry and demanding against mine. I didn't struggle then. I just relaxed my body, relaxed against him, and let him do as he pleased. He knew more than I. Even with 20 years on him, I knew...this young fur knew what he was doing, and he would do best, leading the way through this.

I opened my mouth then, and let his tongue in. I knew how this worked. I'd kissed my wife at least a hundred times, our young tongues exploring each other's mouths. But this was different. This young wolf took firm control, worming his tongue into my mouth, licking my tongue, curling our tongues together. I moaned softly at the taste of his tender young mouth against mine. It's true what they say, that the younger they are, the sweeter they are. He kissed me for a long time, his tongue curling and uncurling around mine, like a serpent rolling through my mouth.

When he stopped, I sat there, gasping for air, looking up at him. I could see the smirk on his face as he licked our saliva from his lips, slowly, sensually, deliberately trying to entrance me. I knew I was already spellbound. He spoke softly then.

"Perhaps...we might be more comfortable with less clothing?"

I was only wearing my pajama pants, but he was in a tux after all. My pants were hastily discarded, falling down my legs in a rush of fabric. Then, I smiled at him, staring into his soft, beautiful eyes. For the first time, I made a move.

"Let me help."

I reached up my paws, and started to undo the buttons on his jacket. He chuckled softly, and stayed still, letting me remove each button from it's hole. One by one, I removed them, moving all the way down his shirt.

Until I reached his pants. Three buttons there. Three shiny black buttons that seemed to me to be locks on something I shouldn't open. I looked at him, hesitation in my eyes. He smiled at me, and spoke softly, leaning over to lick the base of my ear.

"Open them."

His voice was husky, full of lust, so close to my ear that I shivered. And reaching down again....I undid the buttons on his pants.

He wore no underwear.

He slipped from his unbuttoned clothing like a flower unfurling its petals, his body exposed in all its glory to me. I sat there, staring at his lean, hard curves. Pondering. His face, lean and rugged, masculine. The fur of his face still soft with youth. His neck, so graceful, slender and softly furred, striped with deep deep obsidian against the jet black of the rest of his fur. His shoulders, wide and muscular. Idly, I mused in my head. /My wife has small shoulders. But their necks are so much alike. So soft. So delicate./ I wanted to bite him then, wanted to softly bite against his beautiful neck and claim him. But I stilled the urge, and continued to look at him. His long, delicate arms, muscular, broad hands. /The hands of a football player/ I thought. My wife had small hands, delicate fine boned hands with long nails. His claws were long too. Long black and filed to sharp tips. /A boy who knows how to care for his hands/. My eyes roved down his chest. Fine, soft fur over well-built muscles, abs that rippled when he moved. And his nipples, hard pink nubs that begged for me to reach out and touch them. I refrained at that moment, instead chosing to continue staring down his body.

He stood so still as I looked at him in the moonlight, as we sat in that car together.

I looked down. Down at his thin waist that curved so deliciously. My wife had wide hips. Wide, pup-bearing hips. To see this young wolf's slender waist made my pulse pound. I looked behind. Such an adorable ass, firm muscles and a long, well-groomed tail. So beautiful, I felt. So much like a woman, but so much like a man. I sighed softly, and finally...finally turned my eyes to what I knew waited below his waist. What I knew was echoed in my own lap.

His sheathed member. It was standing out, his pink flesh standing rigid from his black sheath, glistening in the night light, throbbing and hard. It was nearly identical to my own, in size, in shape, in everything. I looked at it for a long moment, then looked down at my own. Both throbbing. Both hard and filling the air with the smell of pheromones and sex. I looked up at him then. Both of us naked. Both of us aroused.

All thoughts in my head of this being wrong at all had long since vanished. I wanted only to feel this wolf now. Even if i kept thinking of my wife, I knew...gradually, this wolf was dominating all thoughts in my head.

He smiled at me, and licked my face.

"So...shall we? Our clothing gone, our desire bared...shall we dance then?"

His eyes glowed with a wicked light, and I looked at him, then whispered softly.

"Show me..."

He pushed me then, shoving me back, so that I laid across the seats, and he knelt over me. I stared up at him. Just..stared, wide-eyed.

I had never been dominated in anything. In the schoolyard, we played often at dominating each other, making each other roll, simply asserting dominance and submission. It's in our blood afterall. I had always won, as a child, because of my large size and aggressive manner. My wife had rolled willingly to me, submitting her throat to me the first date we ever had.

Yet here I was. Laying on my back, with a beautiful wolf straddling me. Completely letting him dominate. Giving myself over to him.

I was a bitch. I was his bitch. I knew this, in some secluded thoughtful part of my brain.

But I didn't care. I had long since passed the point of caring. Wolf pheromones do amazing things to a wolf. In such a small space as that car, I was overcome. I was throbbing with desire, with fire in my veins and in my groin.

I was his. And I was loving it.

He wasn't slow and completely gentle that first time. He was inept, fumbling, a young boy. I was reminded that night, of the nights in the back of my car, when my wife and I had had sex, wild sex that only teenagers in lust can have. But my thoughts of her were again...quickly pushed back.

He started at my neck. Biting against me, with that soft, husky teenage growl that I have come to adore now. His teeth against my skin made me shiver. I remember that. The first bite of passion always makes me shiver, from the bite to the tip of my toes. All the way through me. He nibbled on me, like I was some great food, his teeth just marking the skin under my fur, his saliva leaving trails of wet fur down my body.

I won't share all that he did, to make me pant and moan against him. Needless to say, that young wolf proved just how not young he was. He proved, once and for all, that he knew more then that I could possibly have guessed. He drove me to heights I had NEVER felt with my wife.

I thought I was going to burst, with all of his teasing, his moving so seductively down my body.

Until his tongue hit my hard member. When he licked me there, I thought I was going to die, the pleasure was so extreme. I was so much his, I just moaned and writhed against him, not caring whatsoever what he did.

He spoke huskily, his breath hot and arousing against my member.

"Turn over, lover. Turn over for me, and raise your tail to me."

I had made my wife do this for me. On our wedding night. When we had made formal vows to be mates for life, I had asked this of her, to kneel, and raise her tail. Not for puppy-making, that mating was. That was for pleasure. For control. For my dominance. And here...a young pup was asking that of me.

I shivered against him, and looked up at him, seeing him clearly, those soft gold eyes and that jet black fur pressed against me. And I turned over, and raised my tail to him. I raised my tail, because I loved him then. I raised my tail because I felt for him something my wife had never woken with me. I felt...trust. I trusted him not to hurt me, to bring me pleasure, and to please himself. I felt for him something old and primal. Lust did not rule me. My desire to please him ruled me.

He didn't hesitate. I knew the old dance, I had danced it with my wife after all. His throbbing member against my tailhole, against that tiny pucker that should only open out, not in. Him pushing, and the great pain it caused me, for him to push against me, the fluid that glistened from the tip of his member the only lubrication.

He was young. We've learned to use lube quite well since those fumblings.

Eventually, he was in me. Buried in me, all the way to his furry balls, which rested tightly against my ass. He straddled me, his hands covering mine, his face buried in my neck, holding me down. And I stayed down, that night. I let him take me, that child. I let him hump against my backside, his hands coming up to cradle my own member, to hold me against him. I felt safe then. Safe, complete, warm. I felt...alive.

When he burst in me, I howled to the moon. I howled for the passion that streamed through me as his knot held him tightly inside of me. I howled as I burst against his hands, my seed streaming over his wonderful paws. And I stayed like that, kneeling before him, his knot sending gentle waves of pleasure through me. I panted for the great love I felt at that moment, washing through me, burying itself in my memories.

I knew, that night, that nothing would ever compare again. I would never be able to go back to my wife, and be happy. Sex with my wife would always be...what it had already become. An act devoid of true love. Here I was, with a young wolf buried in my ass, and all I could think of was that I felt no shame, I felt nothing of sorrow or regret. Only that vast feeling of pride and love, happiness and joy. I was finally...released. For the first time in my life, I felt as if I had done something right. I felt as if I had done something that I could truly be proud of. Having sex with that young wolf was the first time in my life I felt good about myself, and my partner.

There would be no crying in my pillow that night.