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The young human was unable to keep his fingers out of his raven black hair. After his first half a year as a guard at the main gates of Krelholm, his life had turned a lot more scary and unmanageable. Not to say he did bad or was unprepared for his duties, but the man had grown lonely and anxious during the time. The other guards made for terrible conversation and drinking buddies alike. But there was one thing he had done that troubled him greatly. A serious offence to the law, that, if not for certain someone holding protecting claws over him, would bring him a swift disciplinary action.

His home city was no other than the capital of the whole kingdom - the main city Cyrila, a place full of historical complots, treachery and power struggles; it's thread of historical nuances a too hard of a task to follow even for the best of historians. The sun had since reached the city walls obscuring the horizon, meddling with the clouds and colouring them the tint of nostalgia and melancholy. He had lived his whole life there, in the poor quarter among beggars and cowardly criminals. Alone with his morph mother.

It came back to him akin a tide, his childhood, early life; the blinding, white painted alleys he used to play in, the scent of filth wafting over the poor quarter mixing with what newest delicacy some of the more wealthy souls decided to cook, and the harsh, uncompromising face of his wolfish mother. The young lad, collecting sweat under his uncomfortable guard uniform, looked forward to speaking with her again. Strict as she had always been, the grey-wolf never closed her ears from him, always there to hear him out and comfort him. He arrived at an old structure of a house, tucked away in a maze of back-alleys and dark backyards - a truly humble and pathetic building of dried over wooden beams, splinters reaching out like small javelins, and stucco faded into all the tints of filthy lime. Yet, as he dragged his heavy leather boots through the entry door and into the decrepit main hall - the door forgetting to squeak and wobble as they had always done in the past - a feeling of fondness took over him, the man's chest warming up and his heart easing its beating.

On the second floor was where he was brought up, turning from child to a boy, and from boy to a man. The third and seventh step of the stairwell creaked as he walked up, the damned loose boards always a give away when he tried to sneak back home at late night hours. And in the small hallway, only a dark, dust covered window let in light, shining softly at a sturdy, massive dark door, behind which was the cramped up room he called his home, for as far as the white skinned lad could remember. Closing his hand into a fist, he rested his knuckles on the sturdy wood, when he found himself hesitating. Under the simple, iron handle was assortment of claw marks amassed during the years. He gulped, closing his eyes, and knocked. The wood of the door grazed his knuckles as he knocked again and again, but with no rough, annoyed voice shouting from behind the door, with no angry footsteps thumping towards them, he grew sad inside. She was not home yet.

He grasped for an item from his pocket; a key to the room, and in a way, the single most prized object of his possessions. It clicked in the lock smoothly, and him having to give the door a small tug, it creaked open. Humid waft of staleness hit him in his nose right away. He went on to open a large window to the left of the door, but on his way, the man almost stumbled over a chair tucked to a table. He knew it was there, yet he walked right into it as if blind. Then, opening the shutters and glass window frames, he looked over the room, his mind drifting. Dark, small and without as much as a hint of space; a big double bed was tucked in the corner, the sheets hidden under a layer of clothes, underwear, sharp daggers, and pottery smeared in grime, and the rest of the place was not much better.

The man sighed. His mother was never a very neat person, but it had seemed to have gotten ten times worse in his absence. He decided to clean the place up, hoping to pass some time. With gentle care he packed her clothes and hid them in a wardrobe, only her underwear he dumped as quickly as humanly possible in a drawer. It took him a whole hour to take care of the pottery, washing the filthy ceramic plates in a tiny sink in the kitchen. But the peak of the mountain proved to be when he tried to find some room for his mother's daggers and knives. That's when he got truly profane, as the ageing wolf had bought dozen new, without any place to put them down.

He lighted a ceiling lantern once done, the sun, along with the day, long gone. During his cleaning the man had found a bottle of unopened mead, and lifting two glasses, he sat at the small table, ditching pieces of his attire. If he wasn't so gravely tired, he might have even taken a bath. He kept only his long, white shirt on him, and then, lumping into an uncomfortable, wooden chair, he took to sipping from the glass. The other, empty one, was sitting alone on the table.

He stared at it absently, when he picked it up and filled it to half - he was no stranger to drinking with his mother. The room was rather welcoming once cleaned; the atmosphere an enveloping blanket, bringing him to fill his glass anew and sip more, the young man drifting into sleep. When, suddenly, someone impatiently scraped the door with claws, and he tensed instinctively. His first urge was to hide the drinks, having the mindset of a small child that was doing something forbidden, seconds before being caught. In the crack of the door appeared a familiar muzzled being, a female in a dark blue uniform, her wolf ears proudly perked and sharply triangle, long flocks of wavy, raven black hair combed back, and her facial fur grey and ruffled, to eyes appearing rough as sandpaper. She widened her eyes at the sight of him, stopping in the door frame and bringing her muzzle up.

Her voice had a rough tone of disdain, a true rasping wood saw that cut straight through any good mood the man had managed to accumulate. "I was wondering when you'd show your worthless ass in here." She closed the door softly, but to him, it was clear she wanted to slam them shut. Her wolf tail angrily swayed in the air, and her hand twitched on the handle. Then, aiming her green eyes at him and the table, she hissed in nauseating hate. "Bosnar, you brat! I was saving that mead for someone."

He turned away from her, cringing. "It was half a year...could you stop belittling me for once?"

"You can blame only yourself! I work my fingers bloody here, finding work for you..." She slammed her fist against the table, the lads heart skipping a beat. "...and you worthless bastard. You put us both into jeopardy the first chance you get. Dammit!"

"Shut your trap you wolf bitch!" He snapped at her, angry of being scolded from the first second they were together. "I'm not fucking ten! Why do you always act like this?" But then, his voice started to tremble, the man more whining than speaking. "I just needed to talk...."

She only stared at him, her chest, emphasized by her tightly fitting uniform, heaved in time with her forceful blows of breath. Then, leaning over him ominously, she ruffled the man's hair.

"You're lucky you're my son." She said, almost lovingly. Withdrawing her clawed hand she glanced the room over, curling her lips into a fond smile. "Oh, you cleaned up? So you're good for something after all."

"I was looking forward to you...even if all you do is mock me," he uttered, feeling confused at best, downing another glass of the honey bee mead.

She fluttered her ears - perhaps at his words. Then, growling softly, she walked next to the bed, unfastening belts of her uniform. "Oh come on son. You can't just expect me to be all smiles when you do so much wrong." Her sword clung against the bed frame. "So then...how were you? And importantly...why in the hell you abused that girl?"

Bosnar turned in his chair. Maybe it was the booze, but he found his eyes darting all over his mom and her wolfish body, as she stripped out of her clothes and armour. She did so without the least of grace or any wanton in her moves, the sight of her naked frame he saw a million times and never glanced to, but that moment, he was unable to pry his eyes away. "You know...it wasn't so bad. The duties weren't hard, the captain wasn't a complete dick either, and I mostly managed to stay out of conflict. Which is a first for me."

She bent over to slide out of her cotton socks, when the man's gaze slid under her tail. He blushed bright and turned away in shame, blurting, "A good position...I, eh, you know, I'm thankful you got me the guard duty...even if boring, the morph girls trying to get in..." He glanced back at her. "...are a nice sight for tired eyes."

"I bet, you sleaze...." She was done changing her clothes, sporting a comfy, wine-red shirt. It had a deep cut of a neckline, and was running as low as her knees, hiding her petite thighs. "What was it with the girl you raped? You know how many strings I had to pull, to save your dirty bum?"

Bosnar lowered his head in regret. Both from the troubling deed he had done in Krelholm, and the way he was lusting over his own blood. "What can I say...those morph cunts are always so high and mighty trying to get in. No papers, no identification...nothing. At first, I was just sending them away. No point arguing with them over it, right?"

"Yes?" She sat behind the table, wrapping her paw around her glass of mead. "...hmm. You even filled a glass for me. Shame you are this nice only when you fuck up."

"...mother...," he uttered, the stinging pain in him intensifying. "Can you stop hating on me constantly?"

She wrinkled her nose. "Huh. Considering what you did-"

"Yes, I damn right raped that bitch." Bosnar yelled at her, his dark emotions reaching high intensity. "She waltzed right in, all disgusted smirks and words of precedence. She couldn't stomach not getting into the city right away. Of course, no identification, no reason of visit, her surname not in the records...and what she does? Attacks me verbally. The stupid cunt."

The wolf leaned a bit on the table, her expression speaking of interest. "It still gave you no right."

His voiced reached a new level of righteousness, the man losing all self-control. "I took no right, Lilith! I tried calming her down when she smacked me in the cheek. Of course, a weak cat wench like her, I had no problems subduing her. I was ready to kick her out, when she burst in tears. That she's even willing to please me, if it gets her inside. Can you believe that? She opened my bloody pants!"

"Yeah, I get it-"

"Oh yes, her lips felt so great on my cock. Her muzzle was made to slurp cum. But eh...the little bitch was terribly unskilled. I had to grab her hair and help her a bit."

Lilith clouded her brow. "Enough! I don't fancy knowing the detail-"

The young man went on, ignoring Lilith's words. "Mm. I loved to see her throat bulge out when I pushed in. Yeah, thinking you're kissing just the head and I'm letting you past? Haha! Oh, how she cried when I got balls deep in her mouth...bitch deserved it all. And the hateful stare when I finished right in her face. You know...I gave her the papers then...and cuffed her. Just for fun. You should have heard the townies when I forced her into the crowd with a layer of my own cum covering her stupid face."

"That is enough!" She slammed her fist into the table, toppling her empty glass over. "You sick idiot! That's how you treat a woman? You're worse than your father...," she shouted in shaky voice.

"...stop mentioning him, I've been listening to your whining my whole life. Howling like a damn wolf constantly. You know how is that?" He felt aggravated and sorry at the same time, when, looking into her green eyes, illuminated only by the soft glow of the lantern, he felt her sorrow as if it was his own. "Sorry...I'm sorry. I didn't mean to." He whispered, stretching his hand over the table. Lilith grabbed him with her own paw, clutching him firmly.

The old she-wolf closed her eyes, muzzle sinking down. The man knew her well enough to know she had never found it easy showing her true emotions. Those other than anger and distaste, at least. "What can I do...you're the only one I have, even if you're a complete moron of a son. Keep out of trouble, please? I don't know what I'd do if I lost you."

She looked so cute, having a worried, gentle smirk on he harsh face, the red shirt doing very little to hide her blossoming chest. Even in her old age, she was as enigmatic as a wench barely out of her teens. Bosnar recoiled once again, having the disgust for himself climb so high that he felt it on his tongue. He withdrew his hand and poured another round of mead.

"I'll try to. I'm sorry, I won't do it again." He said, deep inside honest of his words. "How were you? You said you were dating someone, the last time we spoke?" The man didn't fancy some unknown man courting his own mom, but as he was a grown-up, and in a year or two to find his own place to live, she deserved her own life back.

She brought the glass to her lips, flicking the wide, wolfish tongue across the edge. "You're genuinely interested? Ah...nothing exceptional in my life. I managed to rack some gold, but for a woman it's terrible among the guard. Climbing the ranks...I had to change tactics. I made some more allies among the men, and I put some things in motion, so, we'll see. You know...." Her voice tailed.

He asked, "No promotion again?"

"Don't be silly," she said in a scornful tone. "To be promoted a rank after fifteen years of hard work in a city full of vice and crime? I'm tired. I'm just...and that rag of a fox I was out a few times with..." She dug her claws into the table. "...he was a fraud, cheating out his clients. I was mostly fine with that. I mean, I've given up on finding someone clean here, but...on our last date...I...."

In her speech she appeared as a fragile and vulnerable being, not the strict, unforgiving she-wolf he was used to. He wanted to hug her tightly, wrap himself around her and comfort her, press that pointy muzzle on his lips and....

She drew air harshly, continuing. "He flirted with some bar slut while I went to the bathroom. And when I returned, that bald skinned bitch had her hand in his pants. Yeah...so much for love...he is rotting in stocks now. I hope my men tear his fox asshole open. Disgusting pig."

Bosnar gulped down a mouthful of mead, trying to keep his eyes off the she-wolf. "Wait now. You threw him in the dungeon for that? And I'm the bad one...."

"Shut up. I don't need your bullshit. How do you think I feel?!" she cried desperately.

He was about to talk back when he looked in her wolf face, the corners of her eyes moistening with tears. It was one of the few times in his entire life when he had seen her like that, fully exposed and showing her fears and wants. And he wanted to dug deeper. The man remained silent, finishing the rest of the mead to stifle his daring thoughts.

"And now you drunk the whole mead. I'll have to fetch a new bottle. Happy?" She scolded him in a light tone, finishing the rest of her glass.

Lilith walked into the kitchen, to the man's great baffle swaying her hips along the way. And glancing after her as she walked behind the door frame, the she-wolf had her tail high in the air, the colourfully red shirt rolled up with it and exposing her tight behind fully. She was a woman of the world of fighting and disciplined training. Her every muscle was firm and well defined, her body showing it fully despite her age. A soft breeze coming from outside picked up speed, shuffling the curtains and giving way to moonlight. The silvery rays shined in the lads eyes and into the room, the glow a surreal play on his drunk senses, as everything seemed to warp and change under their touch. When, suddenly, out of the fogy haze walked out she, her fur glowing brightly, and the dark-red shirt profound even more, tightly hugging her female curves.

He tried to snap out of his thoughts, feeling how wrong, depraved and ill they were, but she gave him no chance. Dragging the small wooden chair along with her, she sat next to him, wrapping her tail around the only son she had.

"I have to say...the guard duty did you some good. You put yourself in shape. Oh, care to open the bottle, hon'?" she murmured, leaning herself onto him. Bosnar concentrated on uncorking the bottle that had refused to cooperate. The wolf was soft and warm against him, and the hug she enveloped him in sincere and loving. She was the only woman that ever listened to him and took him for a sensitive person. He was no stranger to having girls in bed, but no matter how much he tried connecting with them, they were only as cold as the Northern Kingdoms' winds to him.

She then took to talking in a gloomy, melancholic tone of voice. "Nothing makes sense to me. You can't believe how tired I feel. How...lonely...I am...." She sobbed silently, clutching onto the man's clothing. "No matter how much I try in life...everything only fucks up...I...give up. I only ever had you. If not for you...only you kept me going the last twenty years of my life. And..." Her sobbing turned into soft crying, the imposing woman trying to stifle her whimpers. "I...I...please...I feel so incredibly lonely...."

He felt her lips and moist wolf nose pressing into his cheek. And her tongue flicking across his skin, she whispered, stuttering, "I'm starting to h-have this...urge. I know it's wrong...b-but...."

The man's hands froze on the bottle, while she, with her eyes tightly shut and in shallow breaths, dragged her muzzle across his face. She was slow, passionate, flaring her nose every bit of the way, whiffing in his scent Their lips connected, and hesitation marking the whole of the act, the wolf kissed him firmly. They shivered in unison, the man scared to the bone, of both not knowing what was going on in her head, and knowing very well of what was going on in his. Suddenly, she withdrew shakily, whining and whimpering.

"I...you...you better leave," she said, opening her eyes slowly.

No matter how much the social norms screamed stop in the man's broken mind - one look into her sincere, fluttering eyes, and his mind was fully made.

"No." He whispered, grabbing her by her shoulders and playing with the neckline of her shirt. "...I don't care what anyone says...I want you."

He pressed his lips on her, pouting softly, pulling her closer. Lilith was only stoic at first, but as soon as the man slid his tongue in her mouth, her taste forcing his mind to blank out, she moaned muffled, returning his ministrations. Her soft wolf tongue hesitantly massaged his when they met, their saliva mixing, all the while their lusty hands explored each other. Despite their bodies and smells being unmistakably familiar to each other, it was as if they were discovering themselves for the first time in their life. The fur of her shoulders tickled the young man as he slid one side of her shirt down, and pulling her neckline over her breast, he exposed her sensitive mound.

Lilith yelped, pushing her lover away. "No...are you mad? We can't...we just. Do you really want to...?"

But his own intentions were clear to him. "Yes...I want nothing more...I want to have someone I love..." He was already lost to lust and his feelings, the woman before him everything he could ever want.

"...its been too long....I want it too...please...," she whined.

He did not leave her waiting long, bringing his teeth to her perky wolf ear, and nibbling at it softly, he forced her to yelp and fold it cutely. Her furred paws and the tips of her claws scraped along his male torso, touching and feeling every curve and mass of muscle along the way, to which he suckled on her neck, biting it, spurring her to continue.

"You've grown into a strong, healthy man..." she mumbled absently, teasing the man's inner thighs. Her curious fingertips found a way under his shirt, when he felt her breath cease, the woman clasping his already erect manhood in her hand, yelping soundly. "By the gods," she exclaimed, gently pulling the foreskin over his large crown. "Silly me...I never took notice of how big you were."

Their drops of need were already manifesting, Bosnar's arousal reaching such heights he felt as if to pass out. That was when Lilith chuckled out of the blue, and lifting the lads shirt, she stripped him fully, her sharp, green eyes landing onto his throbbing rod. He saw the lust in her face, the animal need as she licked her lips, and giving the man another firm kiss, she hugged him tightly.

Her voice dropped into such a sexual growl that her every word was a carnal filled lick at his libido. "Take me over to the bed...and do to me what you did to that girl in Krelholm."

The proposal was impossible to resist. He stood up, the she wolf crossing her legs behind his back to gain grip, and on his journey to the bed, he kicked away the chairs to make way. She smiled fondly when he lowered her onto the bed, stroking her sides.

"Never. You deserve gentle care, unlike that cunt." He said, running his throbbing length along her leg.

He couldn't wait to taste what she was hiding under her clothes. Dancing his fingers across her trembling inner thigh, he tickled her vulva hidden behind the fabric. And smiling wide, pushing against her tight opening, prodding, teasing her, he slipped his fingers past her curtains. The she-wolf moaned appreciatively, arching her back against the bed. Her warm, silky insides massaged his fingers, slicking them with her essence as he explored deeper and deeper, wanting to curl his finger into everything she allowed him in. Then, withdrawing gently, he rolled her wine-red shirt all the way to her waist, exposing her womanhood. He pressed his fingers onto her mouth, expecting her to scold him, but instead, she hungrily slurped the digit in her maw, moaning softly.

He couldn't help himself but to mock her. "No stranger to your own taste, huh?"

"Shut up. Like you haven't made stains all over the sheets every single night." She shot back, flashing her fangs.

He chuckled and sucked on his index finger himself, the salty taste of her privates still present on the skin. The musky flavour of his own kin was a sickening, yet incredibly arousing experience. He looked her over, the woman spread and ready on the bed, her body that of young morph girl with any signs of age hidden under her rich coat of fur. Her needy labia called to him, a warm, convulsing slit, radiating heat right into his face as he knelt at the edge of the bed, and pulled the beautiful morph close to him by her tail. She gasped and growled. Her brush tickled his belly as the man moved even closer, looking her in the eyes. They were big and glossy, unmoving and full of lust, shame and the forbidden want widening her irises into pure blackness. He felt the same, his skin burning in shame the likes he never tasted before.

She flicked a finger over her clitoris, posing a question to the lad, "Can you even like me? An old wolf like me...."

The love for her washed him over. "You're a beautiful woman...I can't believe I was missing out on you all these years." With his words falling silent he pounced forward, burrowing his face in the one sacred place the boy was never meant to enter. He licked her over, staring at her heavenly, pinkish red curtains, sucking and nibbling her folds, greatly enjoying what it did to her. She squirmed and gasped, her wolfish nature showing most greatly during pleasure - something he had always suspected of her.

"Yes...I love he perverted you are. Put your tongue in me." Lilith demanded.

And as she asked was as he did. He prodded her folds, teasing up and down along her lusciously soft slit several times, her taste, again, as nauseating as arousing, when he licked to her opening and pushed himself inside. She moaned like a girl on her first night. She run her claws into his hair, getting her fingers tangled in his black as night strands, and with the other, she spread herself wider, a clear sign of her love. Bosnar licked deeper, enjoying the deed far more than with any other.

With her, he knew she'd love it, and more importantly, he knew she would not act her pleasure, or mask her distaste. Lilith simply wasn't the type of a person to do that. The tide of her sweetly tasting nectar intensified with each passing second. And he drunk every drop.

"I hope you like it, wolf girl." He tugged her tail playfully. "So neglected...you're tight like a virgin. Oh...love...do you want me in?" Done taunting the wolf - normally a dangerous play - he suckled onto her adorable bud of a clitoris, rolling it in his mouth with his tongue.

She shrieked in ecstasy, closing her strong thighs around the man's head. "Right there...yes! Push just a bit more...."

"I want to hear it!" He asked of her again, muffled by her folds.

Suddenly, she eased her grip, fur of her legs scraping by his cheeks as the she-wolf rose on the bed. "No." Her voice was cold and commanding.

Bosnar's heart was crushed, the man denied only a hairs length from bonding with the only soul he ever cared about. Then, their gazes met.

Lilith pouted her lips, her expression as rare as her wolf paw caressing the man's cheek, when she hopped off the bed, next to him, and patted the mattress in front of her. "...sit here. I want...something." He could hear her gulp. The lad did as she asked - then was not the moment to misbehave. The wolf shuffled between his legs, resting her muscled arms on his thighs.

She sniffed at his belly. "You know....you turned out really beautiful..." Biting her lip, she looked up at him, grinning softly.

The sight of her fangs so close to his pulsing manhood unnerved him, the wolf bathing his rapidly swelling rod in warm breaths and hungry stares. "...such a sexy man. You should have girls lusting all over you. Ungrateful cunts."

She opened her muzzle, the tip of her tongue almost touching his urethra. "...oh...their loss. Besides, I always wanted to try this." Her voice was a dreamy shuffle, the usual roughness, ever present in any spoken sentence of her, gone.

He had to close his eyes. The sight of her closing her lips around his bits and pushing in slowly, moaning around the thing in her mouth - the same lips she used to kiss him goodnight with, the same lips she scolded and praised him with - was too much for him. And she sucked him hungrily, pushing her muzzle past his glans, moaning and whimpering, when he felt her recoil. She withdrew off his rigid cock, the loud, slurping sound piercing the sudden silence and forcing the man to shudder.

She softly groaned, "Look at me."

"I...I can't. I'm sorry."

She groaned again, drawing the throaty sigh into a squeaky whine. "Am I really that ugly? That even my own son can't spare me a look?"

Hesitating greatly, Bosnar forced his eyelids at crack. His heart was beating so hard it thumped in his ears. And then, almost feinting, he looked down at her, the emerald green eyes waiting for him.

She uttered meekly, "There...I want you to watch me. Unless I really am ugly?"

He caressed her ear, slowly getting used to the sight. "No...not at all. You, actually...." The man snickered.

"Yes?" She lowered herself back on his above average length, hardly getting further than past his sizeable head.

"You look so cute sucking on my cock." As scared as he was to glance at her before, was as enthusiastic as he felt watching her then. The beautiful wolf pleased him with her warm mouth, saliva dripping past her fur and hanging off her chin.

She picked up pace, sliding back and forth, and every single time the edge of his crown popped past the tight ring formed by her black lips, she recoiled softly. A true virgin of sex - unskilled and clueless. She did hardly other than stuff him slowly in her muzzle, gag cutely, and then, ever slow, bring him to the tip of her kiss. But she was plenty for him. The love was far stronger than any arousal he had ever felt before. Yet as if the woman sensing his thoughts, doing her unholy deed, she stopped in her tracks.

"Am I doing something bad? Did I hurt you with my fangs?" She said gently, true worry playing her brow.

"No...only...just...." Bosnar tried to think up what to say, sighing. "Use your tongue more."

She encircled his sensitive head with the large muscle, smacking her lips soundly once done. "Like this?"

"Yes...hmm...good. And do so while sucking on me too."

She tried the advice out, firmly pressing her tongue on his underside as she sucked him in.

Bosnar smiled wide, a terrible pun ready to leave his lips. "Good...it's like handling a sword, see? All a matter of training."

"A schword...." She chuckled with the throbbing meat stuffing her pointy muzzle, half of his length in her.

The man pushed on the back of her head, wanting to bring her a bit closer. But only gently, easing the grip immediately when she as little as coughed or gagged. The woman deserved gentleness, not a rough throatfucking.

He whispered at her, "You enjoy this? Because I do, you're getting good."

The little compliment was enough to make her smile, all the while she grew comfortable taking his cock all the way to the entrance of her throat. And her sucking on his tip, Bosnar feeling his precum drip into her blazing hot muzzle, she nodded softly, cupping his ballsack in her paw. He could sense himself getting close. Lilith bobbed her head up and down, the long black flocks of her hair swaying wildly with her.

"I'm getting close...," the lad groaned, not wanting to blast her mouth full of him unannounced.

She gave him a last, loving slurp, and withdrew. "I want you seed all over me." Then, smirking, she wrapped his cock tightly in her clawed hand, aiming the tip of his crown at her face.

The idea alone was enough to push him over the edge. He groaned aloud, the pressure that had been swelling in his groin peaking, and arching his back in muscle cramping intensity, cum erupted from the tip of his pride. With each spurt he blinked, his white, sticky essence landing on the wolf's glossy nose. The first largest load dripped down to her tightly closed lips, and shooting still, he painted her hair, cheeks, eyes and breasts, shooting strands of his lust manifested all over her. He had marked her with his cum. At first, he was numbed by the pleasure of the strongest orgasm he had in his life, and then, great worry crept in his heart. She was only kneeling at his feet, eyes and lips closed as the seed slowly soaked into her fur. He outstretched his hand, stroking her sticky cheek, when, to his relief, she stroked the back of his palm, moaning.

"A virile boy you are." She uttered drunkenly, licking some of the cum droplets off her lips. "...erm...it really tastes strange."

He softly laughed, kissing her black hair. "You were great. Perhaps...you'd like some mead to wash the taste?"

"No. I could get used to this...eventually." She sucked her fingers clean.

His heart still beat heavily, waves of strange warmth passing through his limbs. She was so caring and enthusiastic, the traits of her wolfishness that he always knew were there, but that she had rarely shown. He wrapped her in his arms and lifted her up, rolling onto the bed with her. They were lying on their sides, Bosnar pressing himself tightly against her back, softly kneading her breasts. Her ear was only a whisper away, relaxed and soft, not anxiously perked up, as was the usual with her.

"Lilith? Am I really like my father?" It came natural for him to ask that.

She squirmed in his arms, turning her muzzle to look at him. "No! I only..." She sighed. "You do remind me of him...but, in a good way...I...I feel about you like I felt of him. Oh." The wolf whimpered. "We lived so long in a lie. It was never just motherly love for me...."

"What do you mean?" He was yet afraid to confess his feelings for her, that his love was never only platonic either. Perhaps, it were her animal traits and bits, the soft fur, that made it never click in him properly that he was her young.

"Please...now that we crossed all the lines...." She stroked him over with her tail.

"Yes, I love you." The words felt surreal to him. They made his throat tense and bulge, and his fingers to shake. "I always did...not like a son. Perhaps...not even a lover. I always felt more for you."

She growled, "It's funny...we always slept in this bed together...denying ourselves. Ever since you turned fifteen I had the urges so strong, I...I." Her hips were irresistible to him, the man enveloping her body even closer. And his softened cock he rested lewdly on her but cheek - she noticed right away. "Mm...that is familiar. Every single morning, my head dizzy with my terrible dreams...and your...against my back...hard in the sunrise...."

Her words clouded him fully. He felt his pecker hardening to life, the veins so full of blood they bulged out obscenely. Then, sliding his meat in-between her inner thighs, he knew he couldn't control himself long. "Like I could sleep anywhere else, in this damned hole. We couldn't even afford extra pair of sheets."

Lilith sobbed, "I'm so sorry...I turned you into this, with the awful childhood I prepared for you. I'm a terrible mother-"

"No!" He stopped her, running his trembling hands along her lithe waist, and the fabric of her red shirt. "We were meant for each other...there is no other way. I see that...now I see."

"Bosnar." She wailed in agony, a heartbreaking mourn of a wolf neglected by the whole world. "How could I do this to you?"

"Is love a sin?"

She only gasped. He could falter no more. He lifted one of her legs with his own, and prodding blindly at her pubic fur, he eventually found her wolf flower, soaked over and ready for him.

"No...yes...." She cried, "...damn them all. I don't want to ever feel lonely again. Please! I feel so lonely...."

Her desperate howl only lasted until he bucked his hips gently, stretching her wide for his gifted size. The soft walls of her wolf vulva animated to life, and the man pushed in further still. He no longer felt bad, as he entered her slowly again and again, using ever increasing length of his human rod to alleviate her of her wolfish mourning. She was everything, and in pleasing her, she gave his life a purpose. Not to mention how greatly he enjoyed her warm depths, and her tight like a vice entrance, which clamped shut each time he had withdrawn to his tip, Lilith refusing to let him go.

"You're so big...I needed this so much...," she moaned lustfully, bucking her hips against him. Their bodies were entwined closely together, the lad's hands tearing through the red shirt as he pulled her firmly onto his meat spear, while she, moans turning into soft barks, spurred him on, combing his hair with her claws. Her smell was no longer of her at all, only arousal and her muskiness filling the room, along with the man's sweat and the scent of his precum. The smells meddled together just like the bodies which were the source of them.

He groaned in her ear, "I love your cunt, wolfie...so hot...and sexy..." The resistance of her wolf pussy had since all subsided, which allowed him to buck and tear through her at full length. And despite all he could expect, she growled, moaned and shrieked, spreading her legs further apart. Her moans were a never ending stream of appreciation, just as her female juices were a never ending stream of heavy smelling lubrication.

"You're my best lover already...," she hissed through her teeth, the wild, echoing slaps of her lover's groin shoving her all across the bed. Her fur was an enveloping blanket, and her claws, prickling and scraping along his arms, were small thorns of love. She slurred aloud. "Ah! I never felt this warm...only with you."

He noticed the irregular spasms of her loins quickly. The she wolf howled crazy and started gushing her nectar all over his groin and legs, drenching even the last dry spots of the bed soaking wet. The pride he felt was impossible to turn to words. He had pleased her, bringing her to the peak, and her dripping wet snatch, lewdly squelching under the never ending barrage of his thrusts, was the proof of his prowess.

"Yesh...!" She cried in ecstasy, her wolf brush slapping all over the bed and her lover's body. Her booming finish was the pure feral display of her sex and need. When, once her trembles subsided, she exhaled soundly, and brought her muzzle up. "...oh...that was incredible...what next? I know! Fuck my ass."

The man missed a thrust, slipping out of her humped loose vulva. "You what...?!"

"I want to try it all." She shuffled onto her back, making direct eye contact.

"Lilith...are you even clean? And besides...."

"What do you mean?" She said, stroking his chest and gazing into his eyes passionately.

Bosnar smiled at her - she was so adorably clueless when it came to sex. He pressed his index finger to her muzzle and the wolf licked at it instinctively - lubing it up. Then, the lad sneaking his hand under her tail, he forced the saliva slithered digit past her unaware sphincter.

"Hey!" She yelped, dragging her upper lip high, revealing her teeth. "...that's not even close to how I...ugh...imagined it."

"Better call it off. You never had anything in there, did you? Not to mention, cleaning your bowels isn't exactly a romantic foreplay."

She growled like a forest wolf when Bosnar came upon a decision. He plunged another finger deep in her quivering behind, and flexing his two digits, he tried to reach every nook and cranny.

Discomfort twisted Lilith's wolfish face. She took a deep breath and exclaimed, "You idiot. I haven't been eating since yesterday morning...I should be empty."

The man kissed her nose passionately, probing her depths for anything unclean. "Perhaps...but let me decide." Lilith shrieked at the top of her lungs when he pushed a third finger into her rear, wanting to loosen her up for his wide pecker. "You seem clean, wolf beaut. For you, I'm willing to take the risk. And I'll go slow, okay?"

Much to his surprise, she elbowed herself away from him, stood up, and stomped over to the small round table. The empty glasses fell to the floor as she laid stomach down on it - her firm behind and softly gaping pussy on full display - and wagging her tail vigorously, she called him over. "Slow? I'm not a feeble human wench! I can take it like a wolf, be assured."

He only kept staring at her mindless, her plump, glistening in moonlight slit and small pucker of an ass the perfect targets for his sexual frustrations.

"Are you coming or what? I've been waiting my whole life...so better move it, before I pounce you myself." She shook her hips.

It was a haze of lust for him, as he tapped over and yanked her tail, slapping her firm butt at the same time. He could not help himself but to snicker. "You were always a demanding wolf...but no...I will be gentle, and you'll thank me for it later."

Her anus closed down as soon as he pressed his large head in-between her cheeks, lubed only by her female cum and droplets of his own need. The way forward was slow and hard, his patience tested constantly, but he remained gentle and firm - the result of his deep, disarming love. With every centimetre of length disappearing in her delicious, warm orifice, Lilith's growls grew in intensity and her tail slapped about, hitting the lad in the face several times. He roughly grabbed the wolf brush and held it in place, when, resting his balls on her slick pussy lips, he finally bottomed out in her - the slow, mind wrecking penetration at its end. She was laying on the table limply, each exhale a harsh moan, her passage squirming around him, contracting and pulsing.

"You good?" he asked, stroking the grey fur of her back lovingly.

She blurt out in pain ridden voice, "Gosh...this hurts. But...it feels so good too...you in my ass."

He laughed, dragging his length all the way to the tip, only faster. And then, right back in again, Lilith clawing at the table as he stretched her muscled ring forcibly, the edge of his crown slipping past, widening the rest of her deliciously soft passage. Her every ridge massaged his cock in his travels, the woman taking it awfully well and moaning silently.

He pressed himself on top of her, biting the tip of her folded ear. "You love it? You anal hungry wolf?"

It seemed she was too dazed to even speak, and the man, putting more force into his bucks, started to hump her. The whole table creaked with them on top, the man using only half of his length, feeling her tailhole tremble with his every pass. And during it all, she howled at an ear ripping intensity. Her legs quivered, knees buckled completely, and he knew he had the otherwise commanding woman in his clutch, the poor Lilith completely powerless.

When, pulling at her arms to curve her back, he taunted her, mating her in a steady rhythm, his full balls slapping loudly against her snatch. "Does it hurt, you bitch?"

She cried, "Yes...."

"And do you like it?"

"Yes!" she cried again, spreading her legs like a whore.

Bosnar kicked her feet back together, the tightness of her, and the sight of her butt cheeks parting under his brutal insertions greatly arousing his sadistic mind. "Do you feel like a wolf now?"

"Oh...yes." She murmured, glancing over her shoulder. "And my butt? Is it good? Clean? I want to please you...."

He shuddered softly at her words, stroking her muscled belly; yet he did not stop his motions. The sound of his rod impaling her butt was a cacophony of loud, sharp squelches. "The best I ever fucked...you should be proud."

Lilith moaned in a happy tone, and as she placed her paws on her butt, spreading herself, the man rutted under her tail at the deepest, all of his power end energy dispensed for one reason only - to please her. It was his divine purpose. Harsh barks filled the air, the old, lonely she-wolf clutching for the edge of the table, when, suddenly, he felt her opening convulsing tightly around him, her back muscles quaking strongly, and she sprayed his thighs with her fluids, gushing in the second orgasm of the night.

The man had to wrap his legs around her and hold her hands down, since her arousal peaking resembled a full blown seizure. He could feel himself swelling in her too, but as he wanted his only love to feel his seed shooting down her bowels, he waited for the wolf to catch her senses.

"...by the gods...," she exclaimed after a short moment, panting akin an overheated dog. "...I never felt this good. You came too?"

"Not yet."

She widened her eyes at him, lifting brows in sadness. "Why? I...I am horrible at this, I know."

She was so sensitive and fragile, and it hurt his heart when she put herself down like that. "No, not at all. Don't speak like that. You're a beautiful wolf. Cute and caring...And I will show you right now how much I love you."

He brought himself back to the heights of orgasm by several quick thrusts, Lilith whimpering under him, when, with a throaty groan, he shot his first jet of virile seed deep in her depths. The she-wolf propped herself on one arm and turned her muzzle in his direction; those big, magnificent wolf eyes watching him, her paw caressing the root of his cock. With each fresh spurt fired in her butt, she flinched adorably, flicking her tail across his chest. It felt as if all eternity while they were connected, but at the same time, their souls joining was a moment passing by in a blink of an eye, too fast, and too perishable, to be enjoyed fully. The man was spent, having fired all of his seed.

She wagged her tail, biting her lip. "I felt it all...incredible. Why don't you rest on top of me?"

"I'd rather cuddle in the bed." He forced through his lips. With his cum sloshing deep in her orifice, the mind numbing arousal had passed, and only then did the young man fully realise what he had done. The conflict of his mind and the pain in his heart reached a new level altogether.

"Oh, that is no fun." She said playfully, some of her harsh undertone returning to her voice. "Lets pretend you have a knot, and you have to stay in me the whole night."

From all the exertion he toppled onto the woman's back, crushing her feisty wolf brush between them. "...like this? I love how your ass feels...but this must be uncomfortable."

"Oh...," She murred. "A forest wolf sleeps with his girl on top while knotted. And since I'm the only wolf here..." Her opening convulsed, as if milking more seed from the lad. "But...yeah. Bring us onto the bed, hun'."

He complied right away, holding Lilith by under her armpits to carry her comfortable. And once at the bed, he fell into it back first, enveloping her on his sweat covered chest.

She chuckled fondly, "Such strength...carrying me around like a flimsy girl. All puffed up, righteous and masculine."

"Returning to yourself already?"

The woman growled quietly. "That means I love you. Always have. It may seem like mocking...but...that is my way of showing it...." Her voice tailed. In the silence, only their breaths made a sound. "...you know...I really enjoyed this evening. And...it..it may seem terrible...but I want to do this again."

"Are you sure?" Bosnar blurt out. "It doesn't seem exactly healthy."

She shuffled across his chest to look at him, gasping sharply when his manhood slipped from her distended ass - the cum dripping all over Bosnar's legs.

"Why not? Because the world and people say so? The same world that never gave two shits about either us?"

He remained silent.

She cried, "Please...not now that I realized. Don't do that to me, son. No one has to know."

"Come here wolf girl." He hugged her tighter. "We'll talk in the morning, okay?"

"I hope so...I want to stay with you," she whispered directly into his ear.

But the man couldn't see something like that working. More so as his stomach tied into knots so tight he almost wheezed from the terrible pain. What had he done?

The night was full of strange nightmares plaguing the lad's sleep. Only Lilith wrapped so closely to him comforted him, along with her motherly smell, her cute, whiny breaths, and her wolf tail softly stroking them both over. He woke up first, his head spinning wildly. But the true pain was his shame; the slight agony of his actions he felt the day before turned into a terrifying terror overnight, ripping his chest apart. He quickly clothed himself, wrapped Lilith in the sheets of the bed, and then, despite himself, kept staring at her for long hours of the morning. Perhaps, if he stayed with her, it wouldn't be so bad. She was so sweet after all. But the pain and shame was too much for him, one look at her facial fur stuck together, or her enlarged nether lips, brightly red at spots where he rubbed himself inside, and he knew he could not stomach it.

He was ready to leave, the first rays of the morning sun landing on her naked body, the adorable old wolf curled in her strikingly white sheets, snoring softly. He gave her one last kiss on the forehead and walked away, closing the door carefully to not to wake her up. He knew his departure would shatter her spirit, and he hated himself for it. But he couldn't do otherwise. He quickly boarded a horse coach at the edge of the city - his destination the city of Krelholm, and the guard duty therein. It was the only thing he could think of.

First harsh days led to unpleasant weeks, and those mended into melancholy filled months - the haunting memory fading slowly, but never vanishing fully. And each night he mourned for her, sleeping in the guard quarters, longing to feel her breath on his face, and for the rough, imposing woman to mock and berate him. He could not escape it. He loved her. He grew reckless.

Only his gate duty was some form of distraction for him. He eyed each and every morph girl that went through his pair of hands, mocking and teasing them, alluring to sex. And soon, the allures turned to abuse, when he stripped them head to toe, forcing them to please him. All just so they could get into the city. The man pitied them, soon even hating them, for how easy they were to manipulate. He played with them like prey, steering their thoughts and emotions in his desired ways, and tricking them, so that they would offer themselves without force on his part. The vixens he loved the most. When the first one appeared, he threw her on an interrogation table right away, not saying as much as a word to her and brutally raped her. As time went on, his great pain swelled and numbed him, and so did his victims increase in numbers.

He did not care anymore. Bosnar was a lost soul from that moment onward, his infamy among the guards rising. But unlike he expected, no prosecution came.

A whole year passed. He raped so many morph girls he couldn't be sure of the exact number himself. That one evening he was eating in the guard canteen, thinking of his last victim - a sassy red fox he had greatly enjoyed turning into a crying, whimpering mess - when his superior approached him.

"Bad news young man. You're leaving tomorrow. Captain of the royal guard seeks you."

Was that it? The end to his shitty career, and disaster of a life? He packed himself right away, setting out on the long journey. Upon arrival at the city gate of Cyrila, pair of guards were waiting for him, ready to escort him into the royal quarter. It was the one part of the main city he had never seen for himself. The awe of the richly decorated, several storeys high buildings was enough to distract the depressed man for at least a while. Upon crossing countless streets, they arrived at a luxurious house built at an intersection, mere street away from the monumental structure of the castle itself. The men led him to the main entrance, built at the corner of the building, and one of them unlocking the door, they allowed him in.

The guard said, "She is upstairs. Don't leave her waiting. She hates that."

Bosnar rolled the word 'she' in his mind, when a strange emotion manifested within him - a strong sense of premonition. The interior was an exquisitely furnished and a precisely built space, filled with luxury trinkets and large paintings, next to one wall a stairwell leading up. He decided no to trample around and ascend it quickly, where he noticed one door gently opened at crack. He shuffled closer, his neck tensing and eyes burning of the sweat dripping down from his forehead, when he pushed the door open - noticing fresh looking claw marks under the handle. Behind it was a spacious bedroom; fluffy white carpet splayed over the ground and red drapery rolling over the windows, some distance into the room a large, round table.

And sitting behind it was a familiar sight of a woman, sipping from a glass full of mead.

"Whole year it was. Whole year. Since you...left me...like an unwanted bitch."

His heart was ready to burst with pain and regret. "I'm sorr-"

"Silence!" Her commanding tone could scare even the most brave out of their skin. "It was hard...but I'm in position now. Now the decades of pain and suffering were for something. And I want to go higher."

Bosnar lowered his head in shame.

"But before I can do that...I have to figure this out first." She snatched an empty glass, filling it with mead. "Do you know how I feel?"

The man dared not to say.

Lilith encircled the edge of the glass with her claw, scraping against it - the rough sound ringing in his ears. Then, aiming her green, hateful eyes square at his, her voice started to shake, resembling an anxious wail of a vixen without a partner.

"I'm feeling lonely...."