A Pac of Tales

Copyright © 2013 Naoko Smith

Diolch! Sara Rasmussen for the inspiring editorial support.

Please leave comments and feedback for me so I know what works and what doesn't as I write up the rest of this story.

This series will include two kinds of chapters: story chapters, called '(story)' in the blurb and sex scenes, called '(scene)' in the blurb. The sex scenes will be diverse. You can choose to read them all or, if e.g. hetero sex isn't your thing, to skip some and only read the story chapters and e.g. lesbian sex scenes. (You can identify which scenes are what kind of sex from the tags, the category the chapter is uploaded into and description at the start of the scene.)

All characters in this story are fictional. Any resemblance to

persons, living or dead, is coincidental.

A Pack of Tales Ch. 2 -- Col

Col was perfectly happy (scene)

Soft focus romantic hetero scene.

Col and Bryony had gone to the cinema with another couple instead of coming up to the farmhouse that Saturday night. Col grumbled and whined because it was a romcom but the women insisted because they knew Gareth secretly loved romcoms. Gareth and his girlfriend wanted to go clubbing afterwards. Bryony wasn't in the mood and she and Col went back to her bedsit early.

Col sat on the low futon sofabed when they came in. He leaned back contentedly on his hands. He loved the low bed because it didn't make him feel like someone was going to smack his nose for scrambling up on it and getting mud on the sheets. They almost always came back to hers to spend time together. He liked Bryony's bedsit much more than his flat which had nothing in it but his clean clothes and obsessively neatly arranged music collection.

Col could hear Bryony putting a bowl of fresh water for him on the floor of the little kitchenette. He sat with his shoes off, lazily curling and uncurling his toes. He could feel his cock filling out but still soft against his leg, in anticipation of fun to come.

He thought he had never understood till now what it meant to be happy. Even before his family realised what he was, he had never felt like this. Childhood -- happiest time of your life; fuck that. There had always been some edge of anxiety to life when he was a child.

Then they kicked him out to drag his sorry tail from Ireland to London. That time of his life was all about struggling for survival in a piss-awful world of Alphas constantly fighting to be top dog. He was in despair, thinking this was all that werewolf life could be. He never wanted to go through that again.

When he moved away from London and Christa spotted him one night in a pub, he had thought that was happiness. To have a pack where there was no fighting, that seemed fucking perfect. Rex never saw him as a threat, he sensed the frightened raging animal under Col's aggression and took Col in by his side with a gentleness Col was still trying to emulate.

Col understood now that that happiness had just been relief from being kicked about in life. Six months ago he had finally chucked in the office work he hated. It was Christa who insisted they must go out to work, meet people, not give in to the impulse to lurk alone in the shadows, darting out to prey on casual passers-by in life. She was right, he had learned a lot, he made pleasant friends and he met Bryony. As soon as he met Bryony he started planning his escape, figuring out what he could do which would allow him the outdoor life he longed for. He set up a business which might give the cubs a chance too, it was fucking hard work but it suited him fine.

And he had Bryony: the one with the chestnut curls and gentle eyes lifting in her smile, a woman of curves as sweet as a haunch of venison. She was like a walk in the autumn woodland on a sunny day, full of ripe warm laughing happiness and fun. She was the one. She made him feel right with himself and the world.

She came out of the kitchenette and walked across the room. As he followed her with his eyes, Col caught sight of something sticking out from under the low table with the tv on it.

It was a chewed red leather boot with a silly ornamental chain still dangling from one bit of the ankle.

Fuck! She was mad when she realised she'd left it out the box one afternoon. She had gone shopping with Christa and he had stopped on in her bedsit to watch the football. She admitted afterwards that she ought to have put it away, but she made him buy her a new pair! A grin curled the corner of Col's mouth. His chocolate brown eyes went caramel coloured in hopes of some fun and games. He sat up, hunching his stocky shoulders, pulling his head of thick dark hair back and coiling his short muscular frame up so he could leap on the little boot and grab it, wave it at her and she would pretend to pull it away. They would tug it to and fro, laughing and pushing each other and finally fall onto the bed and fuck like rabbits.

He was distracted again by the swish of the cloth as Bryony's dress came over her head.

He saw her from behind. She was wearing the white lacy knicker and bra set with the cheeky red bows on the sides which she had worn the first night she brought him home. Col forgot the boot and started panting. With her dress off he got a good eyeful of the curve in to her little waist from her back, and out again round her buttocks and thighs. Those soft buttocks he would press to as he went into her from behind after changing. He could make her squeal like a little pig like that, and he loved it.

She was putting the dress away and coming to sit down by him, his lovely one. These days she seemed even more beautiful. Everyone was saying it:

You look so well

, and Bryony smiled more softly than ever. There was a peachy downiness to her skin, an extra bounce in the shining hair with the red and gold lights in it, a glow about her as if she was walking on sunshine.

He put his arms around her and leaned his head in to sniff at her.

She smelled fantastic. Like peaches and cream. Like a muddy pond on a hot summer's day. Like sausages. He snuffled around in the soft skin under her ear, he began licking her neck. Bryony giggled, she caressed his thick hair and ran her other hand over his tummy to make him laugh and kick his foot.

Col dragged her back on the bed and started snogging her mouth, pushing his tongue in to caress her tongue, throwing one leg over her hips to pull her in so he could thrust the thickening bundle of his erection up against her. He started whining into the kiss as he shoved himself against her, enjoying the buzz he got off the friction on her leg and the tension of longing to fuck with her.

Bryony's fingers had gone to the buckle of the black leather collar around his neck but he put his hand up and caught hers. "Leave it on," he growled in the kiss. It was a wild ride fucking with her like a wolf -- although with Bryony he had never managed to lose himself completely in his animal side -- but she was so soft and sweet tonight. He wanted something different.

She was surprised but acquiescent. Much as she loved being fucked on her g-spot by the long cock he had when he changed, she adored the pleasures offered by the thick squat cock he had as a man.

Col was fumbling about inside the cup of her bra, panting warm breath into her ear. He brushed his fingers over a nipple that had gone hard with the nub standing up like a tiny erection. Bryony gave an ecstatic moan so he pinched the nipple gently but she screwed her face up at that, putting her hand up to push his fingers away.

"Sensitive tonight," she mumbled, holding his fingers but keeping his hand against the full round of her breast. "Must be my period coming on."

Col's yellowing eyes brightened to hear this. It felt like ages since her last period. He never admitted to it but of course she knew, he loved the coppery smell of blood about her when she was menstruating. In the days when they were working together in the same office it would drive him wild. He had once or twice had to pretend to be ill and rush home to tear off his collar and fling himself around the flat in an impatient blood lust until she could get away to come and play.

He sniffed hopefully at her but he couldn't catch that particular scent off her; just peaches and cream, muddy pond, mmm, sausages. He lay with his hand on her breast and his erect cock pressed to her thigh, sniffing at the delicious odours wafting off her body.

Bryony had pulled his belt undone and the buttons of his jeans out. She stuck her hand in his boxer shorts. Her fingers played around with his penis, making his hips buck and his shaft fill out more firmly. Col grinned and started panting harder. He sat up, chucked his clothes hurriedly off and reached into the drawer of the bedside table for a condom.

He was a little sorry that Bryony was taking off her knickers and bra herself but then suddenly he wasn't any more. She came over to him on the futon bed. Her big breasts swung like bells above that neat curve which went in to her waist and then out round her hips. He panted and whimpered as he held his arms out. She climbed into his kiss, straddling his legs on the bed.

Oh it was lovely to hold her warm soft peachy body in his arms, snuggle his head into those big soft breasts, grip her delicious curves in close to his chest. He pressed his mouth to one breast, licking and sucking at the nipple. She started moaning and holding his head to her, quivering with pleasure. She was so excited he thought she was going to cum just from him sucking on her tit. That made him so excited he thought he was going to cum too.

Reluctantly he let her breast slip from his mouth. She quivered and moaned. She held his head tenderly to her breast before reaching down to his cock again.

Bryony's fingers on his cock made the agitation thrill like electricity in his thigh muscles. She was only holding him ready for her to come and press onto him but the nervous tension had become unbearable. He uttered a yelp of exhilaration as he felt her warm wet juicy muscles embrace his cock. He gave a series of muffled whines as she pressed down about him. Bryony made a long moan of satisfaction. He knew she loved the feeling of the thick girth of his cock inside the sensitive lips of her cunt, the thought of how pleasurable she found that made him even more excited.

He gripped her in his arms and sat quivering with pleasure as she began softly rocking on him. He could see her face when they made love like this. She had shut her eyes, the lashes lay like dark snowflakes on her pale cheekbones. She had her full red lower lip gripped in her teeth. Her face was soft and yet tense; so lovely. She was moaning rhythmically through the lip gripped in her teeth. It was achingly beautiful; still to be able to think, be aware of her, to watch her, watch her face as she became softer and softer, more and more open to him. He was so excited his leg muscles were trembling with tension, never mind the gentle thrusting of her cunt around his cock.

The muscles were coiling hard in his buttocks and thighs, he felt tight with the longing for release. He started cursing huskily, his accent rounding out his vowels: "Ah, foock! Foock me! Jaysus, Bryony! Foock's sake, Bryony!"

Her eyes unlidded and stared into his eyes which had gone bright yellow with lust and longing, a dark grey rim around the pupils. She smiled the softest, sweetest smile as she raised the tempo of her rocking on his cock. She started calling his name: Cùchulain. "Cuhullin, Cuhullin!"

He was coming to her call, whining, pressing one hand in the small of her back and gripping the other on her thigh. His fingers clenched in her soft flesh. It was all coiling up in his leg muscles and his balls were bursting to go. She started to go off herself, her face bunched up, she pressed her cunt hard to his groin so his thick squat penis was sunk as far as possible into her. "Cuhull-

in

!" He gave a soft howl as he jerked himself up into her lovely, warm, open body, gripping her thigh, pressing her down and himself in, so close she was like part of him.

~#~

When he woke in the morning he was immediately aware of her absence. He lay quite still, his eyes shut, scoping the room with his hearing and his smell. He heard small noises from the bathroom and relaxed.

He lay with his muscular stocky body spread easy in the low futon bed, his eyes shut, the contented smile soft on his mouth. He wondered if they had the time for a little quickie before they went up to the farmhouse for Sunday lunch. Perhaps with the collar off. His lip lifted in the beginnings of his hard lupine grin. He lay feeling utterly content with the world. He hoped things would never change, he never wanted anything to come and break up this perfect happiness he had finally found: the fun of building up his own business, the pack to run with, Bryony.

Then he lifted his head and turned it anxiously towards the bathroom, saying: "Bryony? What the foock?" He could hear her throwing up. He sat up in the bed, saying again: "What the foock is it? Bryony?"