A russet foot came down upon the spongy lichen rimming the bubbling cauldron which boiled up from the rocky soil. The scents of fresh earth and of the mineral waters of the limpid pool rose up in the curling vapors, made visible by the frigid northern air. His nostrils drank in the rich scent, letting it pool deep within his lungs as his hands groped at the slender sash which held closed the thin robe of woven wool. The fabric pulled away from his swollen belly, revealing the ripe orb of Torki’s growing maternity. The wolf turned his snout down, seeing the full display of his gravid form in the reflected light of the moon. His belly stretched forth, distending from hips made wide and round by the coming of his motherhood. His once svelte form, so lissome and slender, had grown into the soft curves of a matronly canine. Gone were the slim hips, the hard packed thighs, the tight rump, flat with its solid muscle. His claws slid down the swollen curve of his belly, the rasp of his reddish-brown fur whispering in his pointed ears he came to place a hand on a wide hip. His fingers slipped behind himself, his palm filling with the jiggling flesh of a rump made fat and soft. 
Torki’s other hand would then dart beneath the folds of his swaying robe, finding the luscious swell of a breast. Once, his chest was broad and hard, a wolf of war, muscles swimming beneath the shimmering pelt which ran scarlet with the hot blood of his foes. Now, those muscles were soft and limp, his chest bloated with the rich milk which would feed his unborn. Slowly, the wolf shrugged his shaggy shoulders, letting the robe fall from his gravid body. The garment pooled around his trim ankles, allowing the chill of the wild winds to sweep over him. He held out his arms, allowing the kiss of the coming frost to rustle through his fur. The bracing cold would race down his throat, filling his lungs with the clear, cold air of the north. Opening his eyes, Torki turned his gaze up to the silver disk of the moon. Father to all wolves, that radiant orb smiled down upon him, bathing his round body in gleaming luminescence. 
“Father Moon,” he whispered. “Bless me on this night.” His hands came to cup his lower belly. Within his fecund womb, the faintest stirrings of new life kicked. Torki smiled softly, his lips black and full, glistening wetly as he ran his slender fingers through the fur of his belly. “On this night, o’ moon, I have come alone.” He stopped, his hand rising up the corded muscle of his left arm. There, he found the cold gleam of gold. A band of beaten metal which bound his bicep and his thoughts began to waver. His vision flashed with the ghostly image of a wolf, grey in pelt and broad of shoulder. A heat bloomed upon his russet cheeks and Torki would shake his head. “No, I cannot think of him now. I must do this before the babies are born.”
With some trepidation, the wolf took a ginger step towards the bubbling pool. Charged with the thermal heat of the volcanic soil, the natural spring boiled, its mineral rich waters as clear as glacial ice. The rim was lined with the emerald lichens which grew rampant across the plains, the swaying carpet of grass glistening with dew appeared to the wolf like so many raised swords. His ears drooped, remembering a time when there were swords raised, red with the blood of many a kinsman. The hot roar of battle sang in his ears and Torki’s heart began to thud against his ribs as his mind swam with the clash of steel and the dance of flesh. He waded into that crimson maelstrom, dripping axe and bloodied sword in hand. With a curse upon his snarling lips, he brought that lethal steel down on his foe. He could hear the crunch of bone, the crash of metal as another body fell, becoming carrion for the ever fattened ravens. Bodies collided on all sides of him, crashing with a writhing dervish fit for the pits of Hell. The scents of blood and offal hung thick around him, strangling him. His booted foot slipped in the churned earth and he fell into the morass. He rolled over, seeing his wild-eyed foe above him with sword raised. The mad creature was preparing to strike, but then, the silver tongue of steel would jut from his ribs and he would topple. Above Torki now was another wolf, one with fur as grey as iron. His eyes were the blue of the northern glaciers, his shoulders broad and strong. 
“Holdan,” Torki spoke into the wind. “My love, he came to me when I was to fall in that battle. Gods above, but I never wish to live that life again.” His hand came to his gravid belly, the life within him stirring, pressing out against his palm. “And I never will.”
Torki dipped a foot into the bubbling pool, wincing as the heat struck his frigid toes. Gingerly, he slipped his other foot into the water, coming to sit at the edge of the spring. His legs dangling into the pool, he took a deep breath, inhaling the mineral scents of the boiling water. He loved the natural volcanic pools which dotted the plains, the heat doing such wonders for his aching back. Carefully, the wolf plunged into the natural cauldron, letting the heat suffuse his weary limbs. 
“Moon above,” he said. “I purify myself for you, so that I may earn your blessing. Though the priests will not grant us communion, I beg of you, Father Moon, bless these children which grow within me. Let them grow up to be strong.” His eyes stung and Torki blinked the crystalline tears which flowed down his shaggy cheeks. “Bless us, Father Moon. Give us that, just a small boon. It is all that I ask of you.”
Torki sat back against the bare rock, allowing the waters to bubble up to his chin. His bloated breasts wobbled atop his gravid belly, seeking to float on the churning surface. His fingers felt along his stomach, finding the rigid buds of his other nipples. Each crowning a miniature globe of milky flesh, six in all to balloon from his pregnant middle. A questing finger found such a bud and began to circle the bumpy areola. Torki shivered in spite of the heat which rose up from the mist, a thrill racing up his spine like raw lightning. 
“Mmm,” he moaned.
“So, this is where I find you,” came a voice as deep as great crags and resounding like two boulders being rubbed together. 
At once, Torki’s eyes flew open and the pregnant wolf leapt up with a squawk. “Holdan!”
Standing at the side of the spring as another wolf. His fur was like that of iron, with splashes of white on his chest and around his muzzle. Laughing blue eyes stared down at the gravid lupine and black lips curled into a broad smile. He was clad in a leather jerkin, the chest opened to show the copious bulge of hard muscle which swam beneath the shaggy pelt. Such a sight did not go unnoticed by Torki and the pregnant wolf’s manhood began to stir, his cock slipping from his furry sheath even as his maiden flower would quicken to bloom between his dimpled cheeks. Throwing an arm clumsily around his prodigious breasts, Torki then averted his gaze from his grinning mate. 
“W-What are you doing here?” he asked. 
“I should ask you the same,” replied Holdan. Taking a seat at the edge of the spring, he then continued. “But, I do recall how you loved to bathe in the hot springs. I remember one night after a long and arduous battle, how you jumped into the water. The pool turned bright crimson from the blood which clung to your fur.”
“I remember,” said Torki. “The scent of iron in the air, the screams of the dying. There was a time I lived for that, as did you.” His hand came to his belly. “But, I could never go back to that world, Holdan, you know that.”
A great, calloused hand came to rest on Torki’s and the russet wolf turned his gaze up to meet the glacial eyes of his love. Like Torki, Holdan, too, had a band of gold woven around his left bicep, the rings of their coupling. 
“That world is behind us,” Holdan said. He gave his love’s hand a squeeze, making Torki smile just a bit wider. 
“So, my love,” said Torki. “Since you came all this way, are you not going to join me?”
Holdan shed his jerkin, letting it fall to the lichen. Then came the breeches, followed by his heavy leather boots. His body was radiant in the moonlight. Muscle slithered over his bones, standing like steel cables beneath his flesh. When he moved, his entire body shivered with a sensual grace which made Torki’s heart flutter. The broad chest heaved, straining to hold back the hot virility of Holdan’s powerful form as the wolf stepped into the boiling spring. His manhood hung fat between his thighs, a crimson lance which swelled from the furry sheath, a muscled knot bloating at the base of his member. Torki could not help but to lick his lips, seeing the plump balls which swayed below that scarlet rod. How his fingers itched then to take such an orb, to bring that luscious fruit to his hungering mouth. How he yearned to sink his fangs into that sweet pear, to let the juices run hot and thick down his throat. His cock shuddered below his gravid belly, his puffy ring gushing its fragrant nectar to shimmer between the trembling globes that were his fat buttocks. Sweet honey ran down his thigh, spilling into the mineral rich waters to make the air fragrant with his mounting lust. 
Holdan’s nostrils flared, drinking in the heady aroma of his love. His mind wandered to the golden deserts of Araby, to the serpent haunted tombs of the kings of jade Cathay. The scents of myrrh and of the cloying aroma of jasmine were as bitter offal to his nose when compared to the vibrant scent which hung upon the vapors. His hands, great horny claws, their palms ridged with toughened calluses, reached for his love. Glistening droplets fell from his shaggy pelt like the summer rains, lending their melody to the dull bubbling of the spring as his hands came to cup that swollen, gravid sphere. Torki let out a gasp as the iron hard fingers of his love would come to seize his pregnant belly. The strength of Holdan was awesome, yet his touch was so delicate on Torki’s tender flesh. Hands that could rend the wrought iron bars from the gates of many a stronghold, they would so carefully and so gently traced their way up his stomach. Torki’s flesh crawled, his belly clenching as those questing fingers came to flick a rigid nipple. His entire body rocked with the sensation and the wolf let out a thin cry as Holdan would come to pluck another of those black cherries. 
“You’ve become so sensitive,” the grey wolf whispered. “How I love to circle each and every one of these precious globes.” 
He ran his claw around the bumpy areola, moving to another milky sphere to pinch the erect bud which thrust itself from the glistening ebon flesh. A trickle of white began to run down Torki’s belly, matting into his damp fur. Holdan lowered his shaggy head, his broad pink tongue slipping from between his lips. That rough tongue would find the curve of Torki’s belly, sliding up the wet fur to lap the trickle of fresh milk which leaked from the wolf’s nipple. Torki’s heart exploded into his throat, his lungs finding themselves unable to breathe as Holdan would rise, standing fully before his mate. Those massive hands would come to take Torki’s russet cheeks, drawing his muzzle up to that of his love. Holdan gazed into the eyes of his mate, amber pools which swirled with fathomless depths. Such orbs reflected no light, but gave off a warm illumination that was all their own. How he had gotten so lost in those dizzying spheres, drowning in their honeyed depths. His thumb ran along the puckering lips of Torki, making the wolf’s mouth press outward in a glimmering pout. 
“O-Oh,” Torki whimpered. 
His lips felt swollen, distending from his mouth as if reaching for the smiling jaws of his love. He was drawn to that mouth, his every fiber desiring nothing more than to be claimed by the wolf who held him. Holdan too, could not resist the siren song of his mate’s lips, his muzzle descending, searching for those wet, black lips. Their mouths met in a kiss which would have made the very gods above shake in futile jealousy of their love. The silver face of the moon gazed down upon them, mere mortals, doomed to only last for a moment on this earth and yet would share a thousand lifetimes of passion which no immortal could ever hope to know. Such was the red flame of love which was stoked in the hearts of those two lupine creatures. His hands cupping the cheeks of his love, Holdan’s broad tongue would slither from between his fangs, questing for the ripe mouth of Torki. The russet wolf’s jaws would part and with a tremble which shook his gravid frame, he would allow his lover to enter. That nimble tongue would explore the smoothness of his fangs, finding delight in the red gums. Holdan’s tongue leapt to the ridged palate of his love, caressing the roof of Torki’s mouth to make the russet wolf groan softly through his nose. 
Torki’s eyes fell closed, his belly pressing into the firm abdominals of his mate as he surrendered himself to his love. The mound of his distended navel followed the ripples of Holdan’s stomach and Torki would shift his wide hips to circle his pregnant belly slowly around his mate’s iron hard frame. His jaws would separate with the crack of saliva, his tongue darting under Holdan’s to rub at the grey wolf’s tongue. As he did so, a reddish-brown hand would rise from the bubbling pool dripping with the silvery droplets of liquid moonlight, coming to place itself upon the broad, shaggy chest. Slender fingers spread through iron fur, the faint rustle making Torki’s body tingle with desire. His other hand would come up to wrap around the thick, muscular neck of Holdan, pulling his love closer, their lips colliding as Torki’s tongue would plunge into Holdan’s mouth. 
The nimble member slid along the smoothness of his lover’s white fangs, plummeting down the red throat to caress the wolf’s tonsils. The breath puffed from Holdan’s nostrils, a misty fog upon the chill air as he seized Torki in his feverish grip. His chest burned, his lips pulling from the black mouth of his love to gasp for breath. The smack of wet flesh resounded over the bubbling of the pool. They cleaved together, sending the steaming waters to splash over the rocky rim to wet the spongy lichen which surrounded the damp stones. Torki’s tongue pulled back, entwining with that of his lover’s, the wolf panting, whimpering. 
“Ugh… Ugh… Unngh…” he moaned pitifully, his ears drooping. 
Their tongues writhed in the open air, like enraged serpents coiling endlessly as sparkling droplets of saliva ran down their chins, falling from their mouths like the rain to patter softly into the springwater. Torki’s gravid belly rubbed against his lover’s stomach, setting the wolf’s mind aflame with desire. His rigid nipples rose from the bloated teats, eager to touch the hard flesh of Holdan. How he yearned to simply run his stomach along the ripples of his lover’s body, to rub himself raw on the hard muscle which moved beneath the grey pelt. His breasts ached, overfilled and ready to burst with the warmth of fresh, sweet milk. A thin trickle of white flowed from each ebon tip, spilling their elixir to cloud the once clear waters of the hot spring. The water boiled around them, bubbling as the pair splashed in the throes of their ecstasy. Holdan’s hand fell from the shaggy cheek of Torki, seeking the fat globe of the wolf’s engorged breast. Torki sighed, his head tilting back to offer his supple throat as Holdan’s palm would fill with ripe, jiggling flesh. 
The softness was incredible. How the grey wolf remembered once when Torki’s chest was flat, hard with muscle, a warrior wolf. Now, to see his love in his arms, he would have thought him to be another entirely. Gone was the slender form of a warrior, replaced with something round and motherly. His hips were wide, shapely, tapering down into his full, soft thighs. Torki’s breasts ballooned from his chest, sagging onto his gravid belly, fat with their love. Even the wolf’s face had changed, softening to something feminine and delicate. Those lips which he had kissed, how plush and warm they were. 
“You are so beautiful,” Holdan said. 
“Mmm, was I ever not?” asked Torki. 
A gruff chuckle came to his lips and Holdan would shake his head. “No, but you’re so different now. Something changed when we left our old lives behind. You’ve become so much more.”
“You mean I got fat,” laughed the russet wolf with a rueful grin. 
Holdan’s fingers began to knead the soft mound that filled his palm. Torki’s nipple thrust itself between his fingers a bead of white glistening in the moonlight as the milk would come to flow down Holdan’s wrist. 
“I mean, that you’ve grown into this new role of wife and mother.” Holdan’s muzzle came to nestle itself into Torki’s shaggy neck. The tickle of his lips set the russet wolf to tremble in his arms. “I love what you’ve become.”
A reddish-brown leg emerged from the waters, dripping the crystalline droplets from sagging fur as it curled languidly around Holdan’s broad waist. His breath leaving his limp mouth in a gusty sigh, Torki closed his eyes, giving himself to his love. Holdan’s hand squeezed gently, sending ripples of delight to tingle in the wolf’s brain as those lips would come to claim the supple throat. His fangs nipped, tugging at tender flesh as he would descend, finding the hollow chalice of his lover’s collarbone. That deep, empty cup, offered to him for the holiest of communions, begged to be filled. Holdan’s mouth circled the divot, filling that goblet with his kisses until the cup ran over, spilling his love down Torki’s sternum. His tongue never stopping, Holdan slid down the wolf’s chest, his muzzle finding the shuddering crevasse between those bloated orbs. Torki leaned back, his shoulders resting on the edge of the pool as Holdan would seek to claim the erect bud which dared to emerge so proudly from the tangle of his russet fur. 
“I remember when we first made love,” moaned Torki. “Do you, my love?”
Holdan’s questing mouth came to an abrupt halt as it crested the swell of his lover’s breast. His ears swiveled, his lips spreading hot and wet across the damp fur. Finally, he raised his grey head, affixing those glacial eyes onto Torki. 
“I do,” he said. His finger circled the bumpy flesh of the black areola, pausing only to give the stiff nub that was Torki’s nipple a hard flick. “I can remember it all, my love. How could I forget?” His eyes grew distant, his gaze looking into a past that was not quite so far as the pair would have hoped. “The scents of blood and iron filled the rancid skies.”
“And the smell of smoke,” said Torki. “Do not forget the smoke.”
“Aye,” replied Holdan. “We were both in the service of Jarl Balathor. A real monster of a bear, that one.” 
“Ever rapacious, that ursine was,” said Torki. 
“The battle had only just concluded, the blood still clung to my armor, my fur redder than your own,” said Holdan. His fingers trembled, making Torki’s ripe breast jiggle. “I had entered the tent, my mind given to such dark and bloody thoughts. And there was you. You were stripped down, a bandage wound around your arm and thigh. You were pouring out a tepid bit of greyish water into a beaten copper tub.”
“I much prefer this mineral spring,” huffed Torki. “What we got on campaign was not fit for even beasts.” 
“Gods, but you were breathtaking.” Holdan licked his lips, finding his tongue had somehow become bloated two sizes too big in his jaws. “My gaze fell to your shoulders, seeing the way the muscles played along your back. I dropped my sword from my numbed fingers, the iron clattering onto the ground.”
Torki swallowed back the tightness which was growing in his throat. The mineral scents of the water carried the musky aroma of Holdan, the stale odor of sweat and the deep, earthy smell of his hard body. Soil mixed with the tang of iron, his claws were still caked with the loamy dirt which they farmed. Torki’s cock emerged from its sheath, his balls churning, aching to release. But such primal needs would stand second to the blooming of his gushing flower. His puffy ring opened between his flabby cheeks, demanding to be taken like a whimpering maiden by the powerful lupine who held him in his claws. 
“I remember that sound,” Torki said, his voice but a dry whisper. “It startled me. I clapped the dripping rag to my chest, my breast having not swelled so ripe yet and I turned. My eyes grew wide when I saw you.”
“Amber pools of molten gold,” purred Holdan. “As rich as honey mead.”
“And twice as intoxicating, I am told,” laughed the russet wolf. “And my love, when I saw you, how my heart did leap into my throat. Instantly, I was infatuated with you. The fearless Holdan, bravest of the axe-men who charged into that smoking crater that was the keep of Thane Olrik.” His hand slid down Holdan’s broad chest, his fingers finding their purchase on the rippling muscles of the wolf’s belly. “
The muscles of his belly contracted at his lover’s touch and Holdan would bring his hand to cup the swell of a fat cheek, his fingers sinking into the yielding flesh. 
“Oh, my love,” sighed Torki. “Oh, yes I remember you then. As handsome as you are now. So proud and strong.”
“A bloody-minded fool, I was,” remarked the grey wolf. “Given to pride and arrogance. So confident in my skill with sword and axe.”
“So you were,” said Torki. “But, I was more interested in your other skills.” He licked his lips again, his nostrils flaring. “You were staring at my ass, as I recall.”
“It was a nice ass,” said Holdan. “Firm, round and wet.”
“With water at the time,” laughed the russet wolf. “But, I can assure you that was quick to change. You came into the tent, dropping your weapon in utter shock. I placed the jug down and stepped from the tub. I took your hand, callused and rough and together, we made for the rude sleeping roll on the ground.” A blush suffused his furry cheeks. “I laid down on my belly, my rump pointing to the ceiling. You were so astonished that I thought you wouldn’t know what to do.”
“I was merely strategizing.” Holdan gave Torki’s breast a sharp squeeze, eliciting a wince from his lover. His lips came to the erect nub of Torki’s nipple, his mouth circling the black areola. That pink tongue would slither along the ripe flesh, to lap and to flick at the milky bud. 
“O-Oh,” Torki moaned, “is that what you called it? A-Ah, yes… Just like that, my love. You did manage to recover, though. You knelt beside me and placed your rough hands on my shoulders. I could feel your throbbing manhood at my back, hot as hellfire as it pulsed in the indent of my spine. I raised my hips to you, my cheeks parting ever so slightly. My anus was wet, blooming with the fragrance of my need, Holdan. The sweet perfume filled the close air of the tent, I remember it well.” 
His hand fell from Holdan’s belly, coming to take the strong, corded wrist of his love. Holdan let go of Torki’s rump, his hand now rising along the curve of a wide hip, coming to rest on the swell of Torki’s gravid lower belly. 
“The night had only just fallen, the croaking of the ravens ceasing as the wretched birds feasted on the rotting bodies of the dead.” Torki’s eyes opened, those amber orbs reflecting the moonlight, glistening with the tears which had so longed wished to be shed. “We were scared, both of us. We knew not how long we had. We could be dead the next day for all that either of us knew.”
“There was precious little time for foreplay,” said Holdan. “We had to make our love right then and there.”
Torki’s fingers closed tightly around Holdan’s wrist. “I needed you, gods above, how I needed you. My ass split apart, your red hot member plunging deep, filling me as I have never been filled before.” He lowered his shaggy head, a glittering droplet falling down his cheek. “You were so fierce, so desperate in your love. Deeply, you plunged, piercing my very core, my howls like the screams of the dying. You placed a hand over my mouth, for we were afraid that someone might hear us, yet I could not stifle the cries of my heart.”
“You pushed against me,” Holdan groaned. His cock would throb as he recalled the tightness of Torki’s anus closing around him. Drawn into that alien world, he was sucked deep, held by the other wolf. “I would pull back, your smooth, shuddering walls closing around me, stroking me as I retreated.”
“But, I would advance,” said Torki. “Following you, not daring to allow you to escape me.”
“So you did,” Holdan moaned. His cock strained, veins bulging blue on the crimson of his rod. His balls, fattened with fresh seed, churned between his thighs. “You pursued as I withdrew. I circled my hips and came crashing against the gates of your womb and you pulled away, spurring me to charge.”
Torki found that his tongue was cleaving to the roof of his mouth, his heart pounding as he smiled at Holdan. “You were so rough in your love. Your claws sank into my hips. With your knee, you spread my lissome thighs, forcing me to open to you.” His belly fluttered, the stirrings of their unborn mingling with the rippling waves of wanton lust which threatened to overtake him. His cock pulsed, ruby flesh hot against the hard thigh of Holdan. “O-Oh, my love. How I wish that you could take me so fiercely again. Here, now, before the eyes of Father Moon, I want you to show me the proud wolf that you once were on that night. Tear the petals from my maiden flower, soil me as you did when we shared that filthy sleeping roll.”
Torki’s arms wound around Holdan’s neck, drawing the grey wolf to his milky heavy breast. Holdan’s lips found the erect nipple, the sweetness of milk played on his tongue alongside the bitter tang of the wolf’s flesh. Slowly, he caressed that rigid bud, coaxing the rich flow to trickle forth. Beginning as a single drop, welling up on that ebon stem, soon a font would gush forth to fill the wolf’s mouth. His cheeks bulged, a thin line of albin leaking from his lips as he partook of that sacred communion. Milk flowed down his gullet, pooling into his stomach as he gulped with lusty abandon. 
“Oh, you were always such a great drinker,” moaned Torki. “I can recall the horns of mead which you would down around the campfires. My love, with eyes bright in the firelight, the foam flecking your arrogant lips. Mmm, drink from me, Holdan. Grow intoxicated on my wine.”
The water splashed with the wagging of Holdan’s iron grey tail. His head swam, drunk on the dizzying elixir which flowed so freely from his lover’s breast. How he wished to suckle at that blessed teat, to gorge himself on the sweetness of that rich brew. His hand came to circle Torki’s gravid belly, made so swollen by their love. Holdan tore himself from that weeping breast, his hunger not yet sated, but desiring more than just milk. He craved meat, raw, quivering flesh. Hunger and lust swam in his glacial eyes as he turned his gaze to that immense orb which distended from Torki’s waist. 
“Devour me,” Torki hissed. “In the presence of the moon, I want you to consume me utterly.”
Hands made strong and hard from turning the loamy soil came to find the swell of Torki’s belly. Holdan’s fingers groped through the reddish-brown fur, made damp and soggy by the bubbling mineral spring. The fluttering of their unborn kicked out against his palms, setting Torki to quake with moaning desire in his hands. The whorish grunts of his love would entice him, drawing him ever downward to find the hump that was Torki’s distended navel. Carefully, as if to sculpt his lover from the raw clay, Holdan would draw a finger around that miniscule bump. With a curved nail, he scratched a path which parted the russet fur, leaving a thin line of bare flesh to glimmer faintly in the reflection of the moonlight. 
“O-Oh, Holdan,” whispered Torki. 
The russet wolf let go of Holdan’s neck, reaching back with both arms to brace his gravid bulk on the edge of the pool. Leaning backwards, his swollen belly would be thrust up to the clear, black sky above. The moonlight cast its silver sheen across the orb that was his wet stomach, making the wolf glow before Holdan. The twinkling stars, like so many jewels scattered across the bed of night, would add their feeble glimmer, dancing radiantly in those depthless amber eyes. How much he had still retained that primitive fire, thought Holdan. The creature which he had known, the hot, carnal lust they had shared on the sleeping roll, the flames which still burned so hot within that sagging breast. His fingers leapt from Torki’s navel, playing at the swollen mounds which were the wolf’s engorged lower breasts. Each was a bloated fruit, ready to burst. Crowned with a black nipple, they wept their sweet elixir, each as worthy of his attention as the heaving globes that swayed pendulously from Torki’s chest. 
Fingers reached for such a nub, slowly circling the ebon flesh of the wolf’s areola. Gently, so as not to bruise the rind, Holdan would pluck and twist. Pain and exquisite pleasure would vie within the brain of Torki, driving the wolf to howl his elation to the frosty moon above. 
“Ah, my lover is so cruel,” whined Torki. “He torments me so.”
“So I am,” growled Holdan. “Ever the beast I was, but you should know that.”
Torki’s pink tongue lolled from his slackened jaws. Slowly, he drew that nimble member across his black lips. “Ah, I do, my love. You were so greedy back then.” His belly heaved with a gasping sob, his desires pouring into the once clear waters of the pool. “It hurt so good, Holdan.”
The scent of Torki’s pungent needs rose in the swirling mists, tickling at the nostrils of Holdan. The grey wolf’s heart leapt into his throat, his cock throbbing painfully. He stood, his hips above the bubbling surface, his crimson lance so proudly thrusting itself, dripping, from his furry sheath. The flesh was red as hellfire, blue veins bulging just beneath the skin, pumping hot with the blood of the wolf. His tip glimmered with the first bead of his shimmering precum, while his balls churned between his thighs, ready to release their potent seed. With shaking hands, Holdan took his lover by the hips, lifting his fat rump up so that his fingers would sink into the flesh of Torki’s ass. The russet wolf’s cheeks parted in his hands, separating to reveal the gaping bloom of his anus. The heat of Torki’s flower was hotter than the water of the pool, for not even a volcano could compare to the scorching inferno that was the russet wolf’s lust. He raised his legs, mineral water running in trickling cascades down his full thighs as he hooked both ankles around Holdan’s neck. 
Holdan’s cock screamed, demanding that he plunge himself into the hot, wet ring which nudged so sensually at his weeping tip. His cock itched, ready to plummet into that alien world, to plumb those dark and delicious depths. 
“You remember our first time?” Torki sighed. His fingers dug into the spongy green lichen which rimmed the pool. “I remember, you made it hurt so good. I need that again, love. Can you hurt me? Make me whine like a fat bitch in heat?”
Removing his hand from Torki’s rump, he would take hold of the wolf’s red cock, swollen to full erection. Torki shivered in his grasp, shuddering as the grey hand began to stroke. Holdan’s callused fingers closed around that throbbing rod, rising up to the weeping tip, his thumb pressing, circling the spongy head, only to slide back down to the muscled base of Torki’s knot. His lover whimpered, his hips beginning to buck as he pushed his gaping ring against Holdan’s cock. 
“Uh… Ugh…” Torki would groan through clenched fangs. “Ugh, H-Holdan.”
The grey wolf continued to stroke, rising, falling, his fingers squeezing as he rose, releasing their wonderful, terrible hold as he climbed Torki’s tip, then closing once more as he descended. With the grace of an expert swordsman, the wolf wielded that ruby blade, his own sword ready to deliver the final thrust which would end the suffering of his moaning lover. 
“You bastard,” Torki whined. “Oh, you know how to torture me.”
Holdan had tilted his hips, his crimson lance just nudging his lover’s ring, caressing the puckering flesh, but not enough to plunge into that quivering void. 
“I still remember our first time,” he said then. You, lying there on the sleeping roll. We were all heat and passion. Not a care for what came tomorrow. Yes, it was magical. You thrust up against me in the end and I seized you by the hips.” His hands shot for Torki’s hips, taking hold of the wolf. “And I would respond with a counter thrust which plunged deep, so deep into your very core.”
Holdan’s hips shot forward with such ferocity that Torki had scarcely the time to let out a single whining cry as pain and unbelievable pleasure would wash over him. Holdan’s quivering rod would stretch his ring, agony burning a fire in his brain as his anus was torn open, filling with the hot, red meat of his love. The grey wolf plunged, his lance piercing the russet lupine’s very core. With a shuddering sob, he would penetrate the gates of Torki’s womb, to caress the fragile bud that was the wolf’s shivering prostate. That ruby rod slammed into Torki’s gland, stars exploding in those amber eyes. Torki grasped at the lichens which ringed the pool, desperate to hang on as if such a futile gesture were enough to prevent him from being swept out on that giddy sea. Lost in the dark tides of his desires, the wolf began to whimper, moaning faintly with tears streaming from his eyes as he clenched his teeth. His lips would peel back from his white fangs, his voice torn from his lungs in a hoarse rasp. 
“H-Holdan,” he cried in a voice which strained to leap from those straining lips. “My love, please, do not be gentle.” His ankles fell from Holdan’s shoulders, his legs falling wide before his love. “Please, take me here beneath the moon. Make me scream and cry.”
Spurred by the whimperings of his love, Holdan would wrap both powerful arms around Torki’s legs. The wolf’s pregnant belly pressed into his stomach, each erect nipple caressing his abdominals like a lover’s playful fingers. Strength surged within him, girded by the heat which turned his loins into boiling magma. The waters around them sloshed, churned up by the fury of their passions. Holdan thrust, crashing deep, pulling back. He bucked his hips, lifting Torki’s rump, circling, dropping the wolf back into the pool with a splash as the russet lupine would close his shuddering walls around his lover’s manhood. 
“Show me the man you are,” shouted Torki. “I need you so much.”
“I will show that and more,” Holdan snarled. His muscles stood against his fur, straining like steel cables, the veins on his hands bulging as he gripped those jiggling thighs. His lips pulled back from his teeth, revealing his fangs in a grimace of tortuous ecstasy. “I will show you how much of a man your husband is.”
The water exploded into a howling tempest, sloshing over the rim of the rocky pool to soak the green lichens. The black soil around them was turned to mud, seeping through the swaying carpet of grass as the stars glittered above. Their voices raised in a song of passion, the two wolves would commence that primal dance of flesh, that cadence of new life. Below the eyes of the moon, they would begin their battle in earnest.