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Chapter II

Grant woke up when the back of his head connected with his bed's headboard. His body had been reflexively trying to scramble backward from his union with the beast. He rubbed the back of his head as he realized it was morning and he was in his bedroom. His sheets were drenched in perspiration and his heart was racing. He tried his best to calm down.

He looked at his palm. No blood. He hadn't hit his head badly, but the pain of the collision lingered. He sat up gingerly in bed and found that his body ached. He thought he must have really been thrashing around in his sleep during his nightmare. It wasn't the content of the dream that worried him, he'd had some dreams where he had sex with all manner of magical creatures, it was the vividness of the dream that disturbed him. He'd dreamed of being fucked before, but it was never by a seven-foot-tall wolf-man. He remembered the bite on his left nipple and examined his chest. No bite mark. He remembered feeling the massive beast cock slide into him and he lifted his covers. His shorts and the sheets were drenched in semen.

This did not really surprise him either. Grant was a “shooter." He had done a fair amount of self-exploration as an adolescent. When he came, his dick was like a fountain. He routinely sprayed a large area over his head and could often clear six feet in any given direction. His cum had a watery consistency. So much so that when he first came he thought he was pissing. When he watched his first porn and saw the guy blow his load, he was surprised at how small it was. When he joined the high school football team he'd mentioned his loads to a teammate and was prompted by the team for a demonstration. All of the boys were dumbstruck at the volume, distance, and duration of his orgasm. They'd all respected him a little more after that. However, it was extremely annoying when he had a wet dream. The cleanup could be quite extensive.

He was not concerned that his white cotton boxers were almost transparent from the amount of moisture they absorbed. What caught his eye were the signs of dirt he found. And dead leaves. And a small twig he found stuck to his taint.

He cursed to himself. It couldn't have been real, he thought. He could have certainly sleep walked in the woods, then came home and creamed his pants, but there was no way he was fucked by a half-wolf half-man in the forest during a full moon.

He peeled off his boxers, his pink cock flopped freely as he stowed them in his hamper. Clothes spilled out of it, but he pushed the pair of soiled boxers deep into the mound of clothes. He did not want their odor to be obvious. They reeked of cum. He shivered as the air touched his damp white lightly furred ass. He felt goose pimples cover his backside and the backs of his legs. He grabbed his towel and stepped quickly past his flimsy bedroom door, through the hall and into the bathroom.

He cracked the door and listened for any sound coming from the living room. The television was on and he heard snoring. It was his grandmother. He lived with her in her ancient two-bedroom house. It was basically a glorified shed. The walls were super thin and had very little insulation. They had a propane stove, swamp cooler, and a crude satellite antenna that was almost the size of the whole roof. And there was small bathroom with a shower and a sink with a mirror above it that was so distorted it served no function except to catch drops of errant toothpaste on its surface. There were so many holes in the walls that he was constantly catching insects in the thick shag carpeting.

He'd lived with his grandmother his whole life. His mother and father had disappeared one day. He didn't know all the details because his grandmother didn't talk much about what happened to them. He was sure, however, that they had never called or visited for as long as he was able to remember.

He put those thoughts from his mind as he stepped into the steaming shower. He liked the water almost scalding. At that temperature he would run out of hot water fast, so he had to be quick. He let the soap and water wash away the grime. He shampooed his hair and wondered why he let it grow out. When he was on the team he buzzed it. He liked the way it felt when it was short. It was felt like bristly fur, like a dog fresh from the groomer. Suddenly he was in the memory of the woods the previous night, again at the mercy of the beast. Had he touched it's chest? Had it felt like that as it pounded his hole? He shuddered and his dick grew a little.

He yelped as the hot water ran out and he jumped out of the shower. He turned the knob to stop its flow and dried off. He brushed his teeth and looked at the blurry reflection. It made him think of the gray wolf he had been chasing in his dream. It was still a dream, but he wondered why she was there. He was certain it was female. He had been chasing her before he was… subdued. He towel-dried his hair. It was still stringy and wet.

He started for his room with the towel wrapped around his waist. He still heard snoring. His grandmother must have been up all night. It was the only time when she slept in. She would be upset that he was home and not in school. There were only a couple of weeks left, but she always stressed the need for him to finish what he started. He was going to wake her when he froze. She was sitting in her chair, as always, but this time she had a shotgun in her lap with her head propped on the back of the seat.

There was another surprise in the window behind her. His friend Alex was standing in the window, waving with a smile on his face. Grant signed to him to stay quiet and to go around the house to his room. When he came around, Grant let him in through his bedroom window.

“What gives, dude?" Alex said as he sat on the bed. He wore a backpack. Grant guessed he was taking his finals studies seriously.

Grant shushed him, then said, “What?"

“Why aren't you at school?"

“Why aren't you?"

Grant dropped his towel to let his balls air dry. His black bush was full of hair. He caught Alex looking, but he acted as if he didn't notice. He and Alex had been friends for years. They'd probably seen each other naked hundreds of times when they went skinny-dipping in the remote pools and water falls around Alder Falls. Grant had even obliged him a show of his “shooting prowess" years ago. It happened once. Or twice. He was sure there was something there, but he'd never worried about it or let it get between their friendship. Alex was shorter, thinner, and less muscular than Grant. He had wiry red hair and green eyes flecked with brown and a face full of freckles. Grant had helped him tone what little muscle he had.

Alex looked sheepish as he said, “You weren't there and I thought something might have happened to you. And, you said we would, you know, finish this together."

Grant slipped on a clean pair of boxers. He turned to face Alex. In truth, Alex was his only real friend. He was the only student who was an outsider. His family was a transplant. The rest of the kids belonged to original Alder Falls stock. He was sure that the whole town hated his guts. He was bullied in school, held back a grade, and when all of his peers had summer jobs, he couldn't even get an interview. The only person who deigned to help him was Ray, an older resident who paid Grant to keep up his property and take care of his dogs. Alex had few friends himself. And his eighteenth was a week after graduation. He was really looking forward to it.

“Nothing happened to me, but did you see my grandma's shotgun?"

“What? No way," Alex said as he made for the door.

“Don't go out there. She's still asleep and I don't want to startle her while her finger is near the trigger."

“What's it for?" Alex asked. In that moment he looked completely innocent. He had a lot of growing up to do.

“Hell if I know," Grant said as he pulled on a pair of blue jeans. His pair feet stuck out of their bottoms and he flexed his toes for good measure. He really didn't know. “We'll go to school, but I've got to go to Ray's after. You can come over later."

“Alright. Hey, what's with the leaves?" Alex asked as he picked up a brown leaf stuck to the carpet and slick on one side.

“Don't touch that!" Grant said as he slapped it out of his hand.

Alex rubbed his wet fingers together. “What is it?" he asked as he smelled them. Immediately his face contorted in disgust. “Dude!"

Grant laughed and said, “You might want to wash your hands."