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The wolf grunted as he settled down onto the bench, feeling the old wood of the thing creak beneath him. He had a few hours free this afternoon, as his wife had gone with the kids to visit her sister in a neighboring city… so he figure, today, he’d do something a little different. He’d go to the park instead of to the store.

Ficken Park. A rather poorly-named place - this wolf spent most of his time during the weekdays teaching German at the local high school, and hadn’t been surprised to find out that this park’s name had been chosen by one of his more delinquent students several years back as part of his Boy Scout project - but, hey, at least it was nice. Tall trees, soft grass, open space… and he’d heard from one or two people that this place also served as a sort of secret hookup area for the younger folk.

One of these people that had told him, a slim, smallish otter, had had firsthand experience in the matter. The wolf had first met this otter through a glory hole in a bathroom stall a few weeks ago, and the kid - he seriously looked to be about half his age - had graciously and eagerly allow him to stuff his muzzle and tail there, and then did so again the following weekend. His wife and kids had been away for that time, too, at an opera or something - he couldn’t really remember.

He had his own separate hookup planned for today, though, and it actually wasn’t with that same otter, as nice as his muzzle had been. Rare times in this city when he could find someone who actually knew how to properly handle his foreskin with their tongue, and that otter was one of them; his wife was another, which was part of the reason why he’d married her. Most of the guys he hooked up with simply had trouble getting past his size; that otter had obviously had practice with other large, older canines, given how he’d simply clutched onto the tank of the toilet, raised his tail, and breathed out a low moan when the wolf first sunk into him after inviting him into his bathroom stall.

That damn otter had a thing for teachers, too: even after telling him his full name the other week on their third hookup, he only ever referred to him as ‘Mr. Bronson’ (though he had squeezed a shuddering, breathy “ah - Gordon-” out of the otter at one point). So that was interesting.

Bronson wouldn’t be himself, though, if he didn’t desire a bit of variety every now and then, and that’s what had led him to arrange today’s hookup. The big wolf had been here before, so he knew a good spot to meet the other guy whenever he showed up, which should be any minute now: on the bench behind the front sign, he’d told him. Admittedly, he was taking a bit of a risk, other than the whole “fucking-around-while-his-wife-is-away” thing: the guy that he’d arranged to meet had listed on his profile pretty much everything that the wolf looked for in a fling, except without any pictures.

The last time Bronson met someone who hadn’t uploaded any pictures, he ended up meeting someone older than him who was using his son’s account. That’s okay, though: the guy turned out to be a total power bottom.

Through his thinking, he had kept his eyes fixed on a particularly wide-boughed tree a bit of a ways to his right, looking like it would be absolutely fantastic to take a nap beneath - and he hardly even noticed the slim, slight form settling down into the bench beside him. He hadn’t left much room on that side, but whoever it was still fit. Bronson moved over a little.

“Um… excuse me…”

His ears perked, and leaned over a bit. He would look at whoever had set next to him, but a bright red bird had just fluttered out of the tree over there, and that maintained his attention. “Mm?”

“Are you my- I mean, are you…”

“I’m Gordon Bronson, if you’re th-” The older wolf trailed off when he finally looked over at his hookup. Slim and small, smaller than the otter he’d been thinking so much about, but… no muzzle, no fur. Just pale peach skin, smooth and hairless; golden sunlight-blond hair atop his head, and bright green eyes; long, sharp ears; similarly long eyebrows, feathery in appearance. Bronson swallowed, unsure. “You’re a… human.”

“Elf, actually…” that voice went on. It had an ethereal, feminine quality to it, which totally made sense after seeing its owner’s face. “-is… is that a problem?...”

“No… just surprised me.” Bronson swallowed again. Lortian - that’s what this elf’s profile had shown his name to be - looked like he’d break if he were pushed too far. “...So. Where would you like to go for this?” Right down to business. The wolf always preferred to have a bit of time for cushion in case his wife got home early.

This time it was Lortian’s turn to swallow. He wore simple clothing, with standard blue jeans and a T-shirt of fabric thin enough that Bronson had no doubt he could tear it right off him with a single claw. “Well, I… don’t know, I’ve - never done anything like this before.”

The wolf couldn’t help it, but his ears perked up at hearing that. “Haven’t hooked up online before?”

“Haven’t… uh, hooked up. At all. This will be my first… um, it’ll be my first…”

“First time?”

Silence. Then, the elf beside him swiftly nodded. Bronson felt his heart skip a beat.

“Well,” the wolf went on, standing up from the bench. He motioned for Lortian to do the same. “I’ll be sure to take care of you, don’t you worry. It’ll be a first time you’re not gonna forget. C’mon, let’s go…”

Just barely he could hear the elf’s gentle footsteps on the sidewalk behind him. “Where are we going?”

“Right now? My car.” He had plans for that. “But later… well, I’m thinking I’ll take you back to my house…” After fishing around in his pocket a moment, he pulled his keys out - and then a moment later, his car beeped nearby.

“Oh… isn’t it a little early for dinner?”

Bronson smiled to himself. His car smelled faintly of cigarette smoke, the last remnant of a habit he’d managed to kick a few years back - sure, he could get rid of it with a thorough cleaning, but part of him enjoyed the reminder. A bigger part of him enjoyed the thought of the temptation.

“Well…” The vehicle grumbled to life, and Bronson started to pull out of the spot. However, instead of returning his other paw from the shift to the wheel, he just brought it over a little, adjusted his position beneath his seatbelt, and start undoing his pants. Out of the corner of his eye, he caught Lortian glancing over. “That’s up to you, I think.”

He always enjoyed his partners’ first reactions to seeing him. His wife, some twenty years ago, had just breathed in a soft gasp, looked up at him, and then leaned into nuzzle at his length - that was after their high school prom, as well as just about the only thing from that night that Bronson could remember; things had gradually escalated between him and a student who often came in for tutoring, and one day, the big wolf opened his pants and let his thick uncut shaft flop out over the student’s desk - and this student did much the same as Bronson’s wife had, except he dragged his tongue up along first; then that student brought his half-sister a week or so later, and she’d exhaled a little “whoa”...

Lortian, however, remained speechless. Bronson reached over, took the elf’s small hand - it was warm, light, delicate almost - and then… pressed it right up underneath the base of his shaft. At first when the wolf returned his paw to the wheel, there was nothing; then, a few seconds later, the elf pressed in gently, squeezed at the base of his length, rolled the skin gently back…

“You’re gonna be seeing a lot of this today,” growled the wolf. By shifting in his seat again at a red light, he made it clear what he wanted from the elf - and when Lortian unbuckled himself and leaned down over his lap, he made it clear that he understood.

“Like this?” he asked in his gentle, lyrical voice. Bronson sighed softly, feeling the heat of his breath washing out over his shaft and through his unkempt pubic fur.

“More like…” The wolf pushed his head down a little further, until he felt his lips press against his length. Lortian took the hint and started up along it, tracing his tongue along one of the veins as he went. This certainly wouldn’t be the first time that Bronson had gotten head while in the car, and also not the first time that his wife wasn’t the one giving it to him. “Take your time. Don’t get too eager, yeah? Just… go at your own pace…”

And he relaxed back in the driver’s seat, letting Lortian get to work. Honestly, if he hadn’t been told, he wouldn’t be able to tell that the elf hadn’t done this before: he seemed to know just how firmly to press his tongue against his length, seemed to know the exact spots that made him shiver - the rim of his foreskin, the underside of his head, right against the tip with his skin tugged forward… it didn’t take long at all before he had hardened up to his full size, pushed to that point by the elf’s tongue.

One hand kept at the base while his lips traced up and down, up and down his length, every now and then punctuated by a bit of added tongue - Lortian had let go of whatever inhibitions he’d had and given into his desire. Another thing Bronson enjoyed about these hookups was seeing how eagerly some of his partners obeyed his wants: All it took for Lortian was a touch, a rub, and a smile - and he had leaned over in the car to run his tongue up the wolf’s length.

As quickly and unexpectedly as he had started, though, the elf stopped… but kept his head down in the wolf’s lap, cheek brushing against the fur of his belly. He drew slow, steady breaths, inhaling the scent of the beast, a spice he’d never before tasted… not only had he not expected his first time to occur as the result of an online hookup (which had happened because he’d gotten a little too horny, a little too needy a few nights ago, and being so tempted and interested in the idea that it overcame his natural shyness), but he certainly hadn’t foreseen it being with a wolf, either. A wolf with a cock that he would probably have trouble fitting halfway into his mouth, a cock that seeped delicious heat into the palm of his hand and fingers as he stroked it, watching the way the dark foreskin, slick with saliva and salty pre, rolled back and forth over his head. The scent hovering off of it, off of this entire area of the wolf, tickled at his nose and made him strain in his own pants.

Bronson sensed his hesitation - it was hard not to when the mouth slowly bobbing along his length abruptly stopped. Good thing, too - he was starting to get into it, and he still had so much planned for when they got home. He wasn’t as young as he used to be: it wouldn’t do if he were to blow his load so soon. He’d been ‘saving up’ for this, too.

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing, I just…” The elf adjusted his position a little, while Bronson remained focused on the road. One time, he’d gotten pulled over for swerving while driving… which had been due to him trying to split his attention between driving, fingering his wife, and pushing her head down with one elbow while he thrust up into her muzzle at the same time. The officer had laughed it off, but still gave him a written warning… but when Bronson checked, all it had was a phone number. “...Nervous. Excited-”

“I can tell.” He could pick up the elf’s faint scent, wispy like those eyebrows, on the air beneath his own heavier musk.

“...but also nervous.”

“Yeah, I get that. Believe me, I get that.” Bronson rolled the wheel gently to the right, passing by the school at which he taught. Not much further before they arrived at his house ;he lived close enough to the school that he could walk there in the mornings and then back home afterwards (as well as during lunch if one of his students requested a private tutoring lesson). “And I like to imagine myself as something of a gentleman, so - tell you what: we’ll go slowly. Okay? No judging here; we’ll go your pace. Honestly, I didn’t expect you to go down on my so quickly…” The wolf chuckled. Lortian still stroked his length and kept his nose and mouth a few inches away, each bump in the road causing him to bob down a little closer.

Bronson turned in to the driveway of his house, the gentle upward hill causing the elf in his lap to shift back. Only now could he see that the reason Lortian had gone silent was because he’d slipped his other hand into his pants and rubbed at himself, too, while continuing to gently stroke the wolf - who had started to go soft. That was okay.

“We’re here.”

The elf’s eyes flicked open, and then, he breathed in a short, light taste of air before pulling himself back up into a sitting position. “Oh… really?”

Bronson intentionally left his belt undone, pants open, and semi-hard cock hanging out in front of him when he stepped out of the car. It was cute watching Lortian get out and start to follow him up towards the front door: his own erection could clearly be seen in the front of his unbuttoned pants, so he shoved his hands into his pockets in a failed attempt to hide this… and, then, he shuffled up behind the much bigger wolf, keeping just barely enough distance away so that his tail brushed occasionally against his leg.

“Now, we can get started - or finish up, I should say - pretty much anywhere we like, as long as we don’t get the carpet stained…”

Bronson held the door open for his guest, and then came in behind him. Lortian looked at the painted walls of the entry room, at the carpet visible through the doorway, at family photo hanging from the wall…

“C’mon.” The wolf went on into the living room, and then lounged back in one of his wide-armed recliners. This had always been one of his favorite places. His students liked it, too. “You wanna get back to what you were doing, or…?”

Lortian didn’t speak for a moment, holding his hands in front of his chest - but, then, his cheeks blushed bright red, and he barked out: “I wanna ride you!” and then averted his eyes.

Again, Bronson chuckled. If anything, he loved it when his partners were up-front with him. Nothing worse than a small, submissive bottom who can’t work up the courage to let him know what he wants… he pointed down between his legs, at the semi-soft cock vaguely throbbing in his lap. “Well, then, y’better get back to work.”

Just like before, the elf didn’t have to be told twice. He quickly closed the difference between himself and the chair in which Bronson sat, unzipping his own fly along the way - and then, even before he’d gotten into a comfortable position between the wolf’s legs, he’d lifted his cock up with one hand and dragged his tongue up along the underside again. Bronson breathed out a light sigh, feeling the sweet attention that had begun in the car resume; this time, however, Lortian closed his mouth around the end of the wolf’s cock and started to dive down on him, the pressure of his lips rolling his foreskin back as he went, and then bringing it back up with his rhythm.

The big wolf grunted and relaxed deeper into the recliner, at the same time spreading his legs a little, lifting his hips up into the much smaller elf’s mouth as he bobbed on him. Soft hands, soft tongue, soft lips… perhaps he’d have to keep this one’s number in his phone and call him up again sometime in the future, let him get a real taste of wolf in the back of his throat. It would take him practice, though: poor guy couldn’t fit half of his length into his mouth before he had to stop and come back up. Again and again he felt the warm, tight pressure that let him know Lortian had taken him as far back as he could - and again and again he felt that soft, deft tongue flick across the underside of his head or around the rim of his foreskin.

Then, as he’d expected, Lortian came up off of his cock and leaned back for a moment, fiddling a little excitedly with his pants - which soon ended up tossed across the nearby coffee table, in front of the couch. His underwear went next, and then his shirt - and for a brief moment Bronson looked forward at the very slim, very naked elf in front of him, hard cock twitching with arousal and chest rising and falling in breaths laden with anticipation. Then, another second, and the elf had stepped forward, leaned in above the wolf, and lifted himself up above him - and started lowering down into his lap.

The familiar tight, moist heat of a rump pressing down onto him assaulted his mind next, and he couldn’t help but dig his claws into the arm of the chair. Some part of him wanted to lift up, wanted to pull this elf down onto him as he sank up into his depths - but, that wouldn’t be right. Especially not on his first time. Adventurous type, this one.

Lortian certainly took his time, too, alternating between pressing down onto the wolf’s cock and coming back up, leaning against him, and just breathing. Hell, his intense tightness was almost painful for Bronson, pushing his foreskin back and squeezing around his sensitive head - but, when the elf finally got that much into him, he remained there for a moment, warm and clenching, and started to sink down further, and that hint of pain melted away into sweet, sweet pleasure.

“God…” the wolf breathed, having to actively fight his want to bury himself in this skinny elf. Lortian had gone down about a third of the way on his length, steadily pulling himself back up to the rim of his head and sliding back down again and again and again, allowing himself to become accustomed to the wolf’s girth - and all Bronson wanted to do was flip him onto his back and pound into him.

That would be for later. Maybe. So long as the warm, moist pressure squeezing him on all sides didn’t finish him off first.

Lortian seemed to be enjoying himself, which honestly struck Bronson as a bit of a surprise. The elf’s hard cock oozed a clear bead of pre from the tip, which rolled its way down the underside of his length as he steadily pressed further down onto the wolf; Bronson brought a paw up to wipe it off, and then closed that paw around the elf’s length to slowly stroke him in rhythm with his riding. At this, Lortian’s mouth fell open and he let out a gently, tight “ah-”, a noise of enjoyment that Bronson had often heard from his other partners - but, God, it was hard to think with this elf’s tightness squeezing at him, keeping his foreskin tugged back and his head buried in warmth…

After a while, though, Lortian adjusted his arms around Bronson’s shoulders and started lifting himself up again, but this time, started sinking back down as soon as the wolf’s head slipped free of the tight rim of his rump. With this, he started a slow rhythm, sliding down onto him and coming back up, pausing only slightly at the crest of each one to adjust his position or catch his breath - and each time he went down again, he sank a little bit further onto Bronson, until finally his sack settled against the wolf’s pubic fur as he rode him. Now Bronson moved his paws to the elf’s thighs and gently squeezed him there while lifting up into him, against his rhythm - gradually picking up speed, gradually picking up intensity.

Before he knew it, Bronson had wrapped one arm around the elf’s slim lower back and held him close to him as he churned his hips into him, feeling how his tight rump slid back and forth, back and forth over his cock, tugging gentle moans and heavy breaths out of him - meanwhile, his other paw remained on Lortian’s length, stroking him as he continued to leak slick pre.

Finally, though, Bronson couldn’t take it. He tightened his grip on the elf, picked him up as he stood up out of the recliner (which caused him to hilt deep in his guest again), and then lowered him down to the floor, tugged back out of him - Lortian swallowed back a sharp moan - and flipped him onto his belly. Already his rump had started to turn slightly red from the usage… but, of course, Bronson hadn’t yet finished with him. As he moved, he kicked his own pants off of his legs.

He took his time in sinking back into him, trying to ensure that Lortian was comfortable as he did so. The elf lifted himself up to all fours - like the good breeding bitch he was - and widened his stance a little, allowing the wolf easier access to pound forward into him. He lurched forward with Bronson’s thrusts, clenching tightly around him and letting out another moan each time he pressed forward into him, a noise of pleasure with a definite note of discomfort… but, the hard cock throbbing underneath him showed that he enjoyed it.

There was such a size difference between the two that Bronson could brace both of his paws against the ground, similarly on all fours while thrusting into the elf, and only occasionally brush his chestfur against his back - and if he were to bend down to bite at his shoulder (as he sometimes liked doing when breeding someone), he wouldn’t even be able to. Hell, he could hardly touch the end of his muzzle to the top of Lortian’s head…

Their heavy breathing, their moans, the sounds of Bronson’s hips slapping against the elf’s rump as he pounded into him again and again and again, feeling the bright pleasure of his orgasm approach… he wouldn’t have been too surprised if his wife had gotten home and he hadn’t heard her. That would take a bit of explaining, sure - but, as far as he could tell over the increasing difficulty of focusing on anything else, they were still alone. Lortian had started to tense up all over, had worked one hand underneath him to quickly stroked at his own cock - and Bronson no longer held back in fucking him.

They both came at the same time, with Bronson straightening up, biting back a low, growling moan, and emptying his thick load deep into the elf, one spurt after another after another - while Lortian himself let out a startled chirp of a noise but then, a moment later, shot his own cum in a wide arc out across the carpet beneath him, and then slumped down onto his arms. When Bronson tugged out of him after a moment spent catching his breath, he watched his milky cum ooze out of the elf and down into the carpet…

He swallowed. His throat was dry. “...Well… so much for keeping the carpet clean…” Then, he thought he heard a weak “Sorry” from his guest, but couldn’t be certain. His heart pounded in his ears. “...Eh, don’t worry about it. You okay? Sorry, I’m… kind of thick…”

“Yeah,” Lortian answered. He rolled over onto his back and brought himself up into a sitting position, still-hard cock oozing the last of his cum out against his belly. He looked thoroughly exhausted and thoroughly satisfied. “Yeah, I’m good… just, tired now… and sore.”

“That’ll go away soon. ‘Soon’ being… probably three, four days?” Bronson licked his lips and grinned. “Anyway, do you need me to bring you anywhere?”

Lortian swallowed again… and then fell back to his back on the carpet, chest rising and falling in elevated breaths. “Just… give me a moment…”

Hell. Maybe if he waited long enough, he’d be willing to go for another ride.