Though he had kicked off the blanket, the wolf could not help but to toss and turn. 

“Ugh, damn,” Albren muttered. Finding no relief in the comfort of his pillow, he at last propped himself up on one elbow and sneered at the illuminated face of the clock ticking away on his nightstand. “Is it really that early still?”

His russet fur rustled against the scratchy covers as he flopped over, his snout turned to the ceiling. Why was it that his room was always so hot? He reasoned that it was his own fault. His roommate had complained that the place was too cold and being the friend that he was, Albren had at last relented. It still did not make it any more bearable. The wolf managed a sigh and sat up. Through the night shrouded windows, he watched the faint glimmer of passing headlights flicker across the room.

“Guess I won’t be getting to sleep any time soon.”

A thin crack slid across the carpet, white light spilling onto the floor as he spoke. Albren gave a start, his ears pricking up to find his door was opening. 

“Al,” said a deep, yet melodious voice. 

Albren, or Al as his roommate would affectionately call him, gulped at the sight of snow white fur silhouetted in the harsh glare of the hall lights. Like his companion, this albin figure was also a wolf. His fur was the color fresh cream, hugging the compact muscles of his lithe frame. His eyes glowed with a blue radiance that made the other wolf’s cheeks bloom with a sudden heat. 

“Leske,” Albren barked. “Um, did I wake you? I’m sorry.”

The white wolf stood motionless, those luminous blue orbs like hot embers, never breaking their stare from the yellow eyes of Albren. His clawed fingers clutched the knob, his tongue, wide and pink, lolled from black lips, shiny and wet, glistening with a tempting promise that made Albren’s heart begin to flutter. The white wolf’s belly, hard muscles bunched into tight abdominals, clenched with his labored breaths, as if he were preparing to spring at any moment. Albren’s gaze wandered the snowy expanse and not for the first time did he imagine his fingers carving lazy trails through those soft drifts. Leske’s legs were taut, yet supple, the well formed muscles of a dancer. But, between those strong, sleek thighs was a crimson slit, shimmering with fresh dew, swollen petals blooming like a new rose. The inside of Leske’s leg was slick with damp and even from his bed, Albren could smell the fragrant aroma of the wolf’s womanhood wafting on the warm, stale air. 

“Al,” Leske whispered. “You didn’t lock the door.”

Albren blinked, breaking his trance to turn his attention back to those blue eyes. “Oh, sorry Les. I guess I forgot.”

Leske’s hand slipped from the knob, the white wolf stumbling into the room. His chest heaved and he fought for breath, collapsing onto the end of Albren’s bed. His cheeks were bright scarlet, his breathing becoming ragged. Albren could only watch as the wolf panted, clambering onto the bed. Seeing the vision of such otherworldly beauty kneeling before him, Albren was quickly reminded of his own nudity. The russet wolf often slept naked, mostly because his room got so hot, but also for his own comfort. 

“Um, Les,” he said, quickly tugging at his blanket. “You, uh, you’re naked.”

The white wolf was on his hands and knees, his gaze predatory. That nimble pink tongue slid from between his lips, sliding along the wet, shimmering black flesh, saliva popping just enough to draw the heat from Albren’s cheeks. 

“Al,” Leske whispered. He was so close now, his breath so wet and hot on Albren’s mouth. His lips grazed those of his roommate, his clawed fingers cupping Albren’s cheeks, forcing him to look the white wolf in the eye. “It’s the full moon. I told you.” He panted, his belly clenching, pressing into the hard abs of his roommate and friend. “I told you to lock your door during a full moon.”

“I-I’m sorry,” stammered Albren. Held in the firm grasp of the white wolf, he found that he could not move. His heart hammered against his ribs, his cock beginning to stir.

Between Leske’s legs, supple thighs quivering with anticipation, his pussy glistened, slick and shiny. Mesmerizing, Albren would add, alluring even. In spite of himself, his tail began to wag, thumping on the mattress. The pungent odor of the wolf’s musk hung heavy in the room, the oppressive atmosphere overwhelming the senses of Albren until his body came alive. His cock emerged, a red-hot pillar of throbbing flesh. Black veins lined the smooth shaft like marble, while a firm, muscular knot swelled just above his fat, churning balls. 

“L-Les,” he moaned, his hands coming to rest on the white hips of his friend.

Leske’s body was so soft, the flesh sliding along the firm muscles, entrancing him, guiding his wanting fingers down the ripe, hard buttocks, seeking, always seeking the delicate bloom between the white wolf’s legs. 

“Wait,” he suddenly yelped. His ears swiveled back, his hands tearing themselves from Leske’s hips. “Oh god,” he gasped. “What was I doing?”

“Don’t stop,” panted Leske. His eyes smoldered, like azure embers. “Don’t you want to touch? To taste?”

“Les,” Albren said. “I think you need to go back to bed. Um, I can lock the door and--”

He was silenced by a white finger. Leske leaned closer, his chest and belly pressing into the heaving stomach of the russet wolf. His white fur filled Albren’s gaze, those black lips grazing his trembling mouth, the sweet taste of Leske’s saliva on his tongue. 

“No, Al,” the white wolf said in a breathless whisper which was almost a sigh. “No, it’s too late now.”

He drew his arms around the other wolf’s neck, his lips meeting Albren’s mouth in a kiss that made every hair on Albren’s body stand up as if electrified. That pink tongue slithered between his lips, exploring his mouth. Albren groaned through his nose, his nostrils flaring. His tongue slid under Leske’s, lapping the slick underside, lashing out, twining endlessly to caress the roof of the wolf’s mouth. His hands found the heaving sides of the white wolf, gliding down to those compact hips. This time, he would claim the firm buttocks, clamping his fingers hard until Leske could not help but to pull back, a squeal on his lips. 

“A-Ah, Al,” the white wolf cried. 

Albren’s ears pricked up, his cheeks blooming scarlet. What was he doing? His heart pounded, but he could not let go of the lissom canine who howled in his grip. 

“Mmm, you’re so strong,” moaned Leske. “I knew you were. Night after night, how I gazed at that hard body and never said a word.” He placed a hand on Albren’s chest, fingers spreading through the russet fur. “I’ve so wanted to tangle my fingers in your fur, Al. To stroke the hard muscles of your manly body.” He slid his hand down the wolf’s chest, Albren’s belly tightening as the white wolf began to circle his navel. 

“L-Les,” whined Albren. “W-What are you doing?”

Despite his terror at the sudden strangeness of his friend, Albren discovered too that he could not move away from the white wolf. Those agile fingers played across his fur, setting his flesh to tingle in a not unpleasant manner. His cock twitched, throbbing against the lower belly of Leske. 

“Mmm, yes,” the white wolf moaned. “Tell me, Albren. Did you ever think about me like that?”

Albren’s throat contracted as he stared into the luminous blue orbs of his friend. “Leske, I-I don’t know what you mean.”

“Nonsense,” Leske replied. He dragged a lazy trail through the scruff of Albren’s lower belly. “I know you’ve been staring. Why, just the other night, I caught you looking. Remember? I was wearing nothing but those red panties that made everything visible.”

Albren had remembered. The curve of Leske’s hip when the white wolf laid down beside him on the couch. They were watching a movie, but all he could see that night were the tight swell of buttocks and nestled between those supple thighs the sweet promise of that fragrant bloom. How he imagined, oh yes, he imagined, but could never say it. Leske was his friend and though he had a vagina, he was still a male, right?

The white wolf sighed, his breath carrying the sweetness of clove and the spice of fresh cinnamon, rousing Albren from his thoughts. 

“I know you want it,” Leske whispered. “My hot, wet pussy.” He hissed the word, like the crack of a bullwhip across Albren’s back. Sweat broke out beneath Albren’s russet fur. His cock throbbed against Leske’s belly. Leske slid his fingers between his thighs. The fur was matted with the sticky damp of his growing lust. His belly quaked, a molten ball growing hotter, hotter until the white wolf feared he would burst. “Here, Al,” he said, his index and middle fingers sliding effortlessly between the dripping petals with a wet squelch. Thick strings glistening from his claws, Leske brought his fingers up before Albren’s snout, the digits shining with the slick juices of his womanhood. “Have a taste.”

Before he could answer, Leske had thrust both fingers into his mouth. Albren’s eyes went wide, his cock leaping painfully erect. The bittersweet nectar of Leske’s pussy danced across his tongue, the pungent aroma of musk played with the scents of sandalwood soap, which he knew the white wolf always bathed with. The fires in his belly came alight, blazing until he could take no more. His cock wept with the bitter tears of shimmering precum, his balls churning, begging to release themselves. Leske slid his fingers from Albren’s mouth and came once more to claim the slackened jaws, finding no resistance this time. 

Albren wound his arms around the white wolf’s waist, dragging Leske to him. Their tongues collided, twisting and writhing like living things, slithering and weaving a dance of primal life. Leske pulled back, his mouth seeking the corded throat of his lover, claiming Albren’s neck. 

“The full moon; you knew this would happen,” muttered Albren. 

“I cannot control my needs,” Leske replied. He traced the curve of Albren’s throat, coming to fill the hollow of his collarbone. “You should have locked your door like I had asked. Now, it’s too late.”

“Mmm,” Albren moaned. He tumbled back against the headboard with a heavy thud, setting the bed to shriek below them. His hands clutched the supple waist of the white wolf, his belly growing tight. “A-Ah, if I had known, Les.”

“You would have left your door open sooner?” The white wolf laughed, his black lips now traveling the russet expanse of Albren’s chest. 

“Ugh, Les.” Albren curled his hand around the back of Leske’s head, guiding the white wolf towards a firm bud of dark flesh which had dared to rise from the russet weave. 

Leske’s tongue slid around the smooth areola, lapping the erect nipple, flicking the hard nub until the body of Albren trembled in his claws. 

“Mmm, Les,” he could hear the other wolf groan. He bit down, twisting hard until his lover yipped like a pup. 

“Oh, yes,” cried Albren. He arched his back, thrusting his chest into the snout of the white wolf. 

But, Leske was descending. His fingers swirled through the russet fur, his tongue tracing the ripples of Albren’s stomach. His nose inhaled the rich odor of his love, the scents of sweat and musk, bitter and tangy, the sweetness of the soap the wolf loved to use. A vibrant bouquet which stoked the fires of his belly, stirring his passions into a dizzying storm. His temples pounded, his pulse roaring his ears. The full moon, that dreaded beauty of the night, how it drove him into such a frenzy. His nose nestled into the tangled jungle of Albren’s pubic fur and he cried out a blessing to that pale goddess, thanking her that he was born to please the man he loved with every fiber of his being. 

He grasped the hard, red shaft of Albren’s cock, the russet wolf quivering in his hands. He stroked once, bringing the triangular tip to his lips. There, he planted a kiss to that ruby scepter, a single, delicate peck which made the other wolf howl to the ceiling. His tongue slid down the plump underside, exploring the smooth, taut flesh, savoring the taste of sweat and musk. His other hand took up the fat balls, kneading them gently, squeezing ever so slightly.

“O-Oh,” moaned Albren. “Oh, Les.”

Leske’s fingers caressed the back of Albren’s scrotum, finding a delicious pleasure in the plumpness of his perineum. Now, his lips met once more that powerful tip, wrapping around Albren’s cock. The white wolf plunged, his black, wet nose plummeting into the bush of Albren’s pubic fur. His tongue slithered out, curling around the other wolf’s shaft, lapping at the taut flesh as he pulled back. His lips closed, milking the shrieking Albren. He circled the firm tip, plunging back down. His fingers slid down the perineum of his love, curling between quivering cheeks. Albren’s ears shot up and a yelp escaped from his lips as Leske’s fingers burrowed deep into his anus. Those clever, nimble fingers found his trembling prostate, piercing his very core. Fingertips pressed the trembling glad, stroking slowly, but growing faster with each plummet of the white wolf’s muzzle. 

“O-Oh… Oh… Oh, Leske,” Albren gasped. His balls were churning, growing fat with fresh seed. His manhood shivered, sprouting shimmering precum into Leske’s mouth. 

The white wolf was spurred by the bitter tang of his lover’s essence, his fingers playing harder, stroking, pressing, never stopping until Albren was a trembling jelly in his claws. Albren gripped the blanket, his fangs clenched as he fought for control. He must not let go not yet. 

“You’ve done so well,” Leske said, plucking his lips from Albren’s cock with a wet pop. “But, would you not like to savor my treat?”

Leak fell back, his legs spread wide. There, glistening like a rose with the glimmering drops of fresh dew, the red folds of his petals bloomed. The slickness of his gaping cunny called to Albren. The wolf gulped, his cock throbbing, compelling him to claim this bright, trembling flower. He rolled to his belly, muscles tense, he drove his snout down, down between his lover’s friendly thighs. Carefully, he reached out, caressing those delicate petals with the tips of his fingers. Leske gave a stifled murmur, trembling slightly. Albren retreated, his ears drooping, only to be scolded by the white wolf’s laughter. 

“I’m not that fragile,” said Leske. “You can do more than that.”

Albren lowered his snout, inhaling the scent of pungent musk and the subtle hints of sandalwood, the spice of Leske’s natural odor swirling in his nose, making his head swim. He placed his hands upon the white wolf’s sleek inner thighs, finding delight in the way his taut, pliable muscles moved beneath his fingers. Gingerly, he slid down, coming to take up that blossom, like a vibrant rose left nestled in the snow. With his thumbs, he spread each of the fleshy petals, exposing the bloom. His heart was pounding, threatening to burst from his chest, but Albren could not back away now. The wolf plunged, his tongue slipping from between his gums, sliding up the red slit between Leske’s legs. The bitter tang of the white wolf’s nectar was on his tongue, that same sensation filling his addled brain with giddy ecstasy. He lapped at the quivering labia, his tongue slithering through thick strands of runny juices which pumped from the gaping womanhood of Leske. 

“O-Oh, Al,” the white wolf groaned. He threw up his hands, grasping the headboard behind him. “Mmm, I should think that the full moon makes you crazy too.”

“Just you, Les,” growled the russet wolf. “You’re the only thing which makes me crazy.”

Albren raised his snout, slick and shiny with the sweet juices of his love, the fur of his chin soaked through. He grinned, lips peeling back to reveal rows of sharp, white fangs. Fangs meant to devour and the wolf was so very hungry. 

“Devour me,” sighed Leske. “I know you want to and I want it too.” His pink tongue emerged like a fat worm to slide along his lips. “Come, eat me.”

Albren’s lips wrapped around the quivering flower of his love. His tongue plummeted, crashing into the hot core of the white wolf. Leske howled, setting the whole room to shake, the bedsprings creaking below them both as his lover pulled back. Albren darted forward, his tongue caressing the smooth, muscular walls, drinking deeply of the white wolf’s heady wine until he was drunk with jubilant pleasure. 

“Ah, more,” wailed Leske. “Oh, Al!”

Albren’s nimble tongue curled, twisted, never stopping. He plumbed the depths of his lover, exploring those forgotten corners. Boldly, he stormed the shuddering gates, laying open the passage to the white wolf’s womb. A womb? Albren pulled back, his thoughts on Leske’s belly. Surely, if the white wolf had a vagina, then he must have a womb as well. Albren’s cock throbbed with a desire that he never felt before. A primal ache building in his gut, forming a need for more than simple pleasures. Running his tongue along the red canyon of Leske’s dripping pussy, he came to flick the sensitive nub of the white wolf’s clit. Leske cried out, tears beginning to stream down his furry cheeks. His claws dug white lines into the wood of the headboard while Albren continued to torture him with such exquisite agonies. 

“A-Ah, yes,” Leske cried. He arched his back, his rump rising from the bed, thrusting himself fully into Albren’s face. “Please, Al…”

Albren wrapped his arms around Leske’s thighs and bit hard. With a shriek of utter ecstasy from the lips of his lover, he claimed Leske for his own. The russet wolf tore himself from Leske’s weeping flower, mounting his lover, taking him by the hips. His lips met the wolf’s belly, kisses planting themselves in a determined trail which would see him taking the supple throat, now the delicate chin. Finally, his lips would meet the mobile mouth, pressing tight, tongue lashing. Albren’s manhood roared, no longer wishing, but demanding that he bring his mate to heel. That throbbing red pillar spurted a shimmering stream of precum, balls roiling, ready to burst with virile seed. Albren bucked his hips, his tip coming to nudge the wet lips of Leske’s womanly flower. 

“I want this so bad,” he whispered. “I-I never knew it, but I do. I do so much, Leske.”

The white wolf smiled, and there was such an expression of blissful love that the tears began to flow down Albren’s cheeks. Leske placed a hand upon the russet wolf’s cheek, neither daring to speak as the wall flickered from the lights of the night traffic, casting a strobing illumination upon them both, capturing them in this one perfect moment. 

“I know,” Leske at last replied. “Truthfully, Albren, I’ve been waiting this entire time.”

“Y-You have?” Albren said. His ears swiveled up, stunned by what his friend was saying. “But, Les, I never realized.”

“Never?” Leske chuckled. “You never wondered about all those times I’ve paraded in front of you with nothing but a pair of panties. Al, I practically threw myself on you.”

The heat bloomed in Albren’s cheeks. “I guess I never saw you like that until now.”

The white wolf’s legs began to move. Fur rustling softly, he brought his knees to his shoulders, opening himself completely. 

“Now what, Al? Now that you do see me this way?”

Albren knew the answer. His cock pressed itself between those quivering lips. Flesh stretched and Leske let his head fall back, his belly rising and falling with each desperate pant. Meanwhile, Albren guided himself into the white wolf, bucking his hips in a thrust which sent him hurtling deep, deep to slam into Leske’s very core. The tight, hot muscles contracted around him, stroking his throbbing manhood as he pulled back. Albren gasped, pushing back now, rising, falling, swirling. He tilted his hips, lifting Leske off the bed. The white wolf howled, throwing his arms around the strong neck of his lover, dragging Albren into the snowy scruff of his neck fur. The russet wolf did not stop, circling, lunging, he came in anew. His cock found those hidden depths, plumbing the dim caverns. Led by the steady, gentle hand of his lover, he would discover that hidden treasure, the glittering prize which shivered so deliciously from Leske’s core. 

“Ugh, Al,” Leske spoke in a pained sigh. 

“I’m not hurting you, am I?” Albren asked. 

“No, lover,” said Leske. “I just did not expect you to be so big.” He ran his fingers down the muscled back of Albren, saying, “Come then, show me how fierce you can be.”

Albren turned up his snout, lips meeting Leske’s craving mouth. Their tongues twined, twisting like serpents, while the wolf plunged, crashing the gates of his lover’s womb. His cock pulled back, coming again, storming those weakening battlements. Faster, harder, his pace became relentless. Leske fell back, retreating under the steady blows of his love. His hands slid from Albren’s back, tumbling to the bed, which shrieked and screamed, springs threatening to shatter under the bevy of crashing blows which slammed into his pubic bone with the wet slap of raw meat. The wolf collapsed in Albren’s arms, giving himself utterly to his love. Every muscle in Albren’s body swelled, growing more tense with that aching need which refused to unknot in his belly. His claws came to Leske’s heaving belly, tracing the ripples of his stomach, coming to rest upon the tight pectorals, caressing the erect buds of the white wolf’s nipples. 

Sweat dripped from his snout in shimmering, opalescent droplets, pattering onto the writhing snowy field of Leske’s broad chest. His balls churned, the desire to release overwhelming. He gritted his fangs, not daring to waste a single moment of such a blessed embrace. 

“L-Leske,” Albren’s groaned cry bubbled up from his throat. “I-I can’t hold on much longer.”

His cock shivered, spurting precum into Leske’s hungry womb. The white wolf hugged his thighs around Albren’s waist, locking his ankles so that the wolf had no hope of escape. 

“Don’t pull out, Al,” pleaded Leske. “Please, just don’t pull out.”

He reached up, numbed fingers curling around Albren’s neck, pulling him to him.

“Release me now, I beg of you,” Leske whispered. 

Albren pumped, once, twice, plunging deep so that his knot would tremble against those quivering lips and released. Such a chorus that shook the bedroom that night. Their cries echoed from the ceiling, a song of primal, ancient love to spur the faces of the gods in the cold stars above to jealousy. Albren’s cock burst, a flood of hot, white seed pouring into Leske to be lapped up by his greedy womb. The white wolf’s belly ached with the fullness of that thick seed filling him, churning softly so that white wolf begged the heavens that it would quicken within him. Albren bucked, pumping another ropy strand deep. Strings of sticky white oozed from Leske’s battered flower, trailing down the furry swell of Albren’s scrotum as the wolf pulled away. A strand trickled down Leske’s inner thigh, matting his fur, but he paid no mind. Not when he was held in the strong, hard arms of the only one he loved. 

“That was--” Albren began. 

“Amazing? Incredible?” Leske finished for him. 

“Something like that,” chuckled the russet wolf. His tail swished behind him. “Leske, I never knew. I wish I had.”

“You know now, love,” said the white wolf. He rubbed a foot against the back of Albren’s heel. “Mmm, and you really showed it.”

“I guess so.” Albren’s attention turned to the sticky trail oozing still from Leske’s crushed blossom. “Um, so Leske? What is it about the moon anyway? Why do you get so crazy?”

The white wolf blushed, his ears drooping. “Oh that?” He started to give a nervous giggle. “Um, well…”

“What is it?” snapped Albren. 

Leske’s blue gaze turned from the russet wolf clutching him in his arms. “Well, you see.” He bit his lower lip. “When the moon is full, that is the time when I go into heat and you know…” He placed a hand on his lower belly. “We should probably start thinking of getting married, Al. You know, in the next nine months.”

The color drained from Albren’s face. “What? No way, Les.” His gaze dropped from the crooked grin of his love to Leske’s belly and then back again. “You can’t… I mean, it was just the first time and…”

“You should have kept your door locked,” barked Leske. “I warned you.”

Albren’s mouth was pressed into a thin grimace. “Somehow, I can’t help but feel like you wanted this to happen.”

“And I would not have pups with anyone but you,” said Leske with a playful smirk. He stroked Albren’s cheek. “Would you… Would you say the same?”

Albren paused, his face twisted in thought. Then, he took the hand of the white wolf, bringing the slender fingers to his lips. “Yes,” he said. “Yes, Leske, I would.”

Leske wrapped his arms around Albren, burying his muzzle into the other wolf’s fur. “You don’t know how happy I am,” he sobbed. 

“I think I know,” replied Albren with a sniffle. “Because I couldn’t imagine being any happier than I am right now.”