The Wolf by Lance

The Wolf
by lance ducatillon

It's been ten days, this puppy is feeling wolfish. its world has become scents. its snout has become its primary sense organ. Memories of its Lady's scent floods its primal brain, this is what stirs it. Thinking of the smell of Her neck, Her ear. The feel of Her pulse against its tongue. By the time this wolf lowers itself to Her breasts it is panting in desire. Puppy eyes of need and love look upwards while the wolf breathes deep, heavy as it tries to become the scent. His brain spins. All he can do is place tiny puppy kisses down Her belly. Its nose takes over, the wolf rages. The scent is its desire. Its reason for being.

"Easy puppy, Your Lady is tender." Suddenly the puppy regains control. It's breathing is still deep, intense yet, it places gentle puppy kisses on its Lady's mound as it inhales Her scent. Moans of pleasure rise from its Lady as hands slap it away playfully.

Following its nose back to its Lady's neck the puppy nuzzles in closely and sighs a contented sigh as a smile crawls across its face.The wolf is sated, for now.