I was headed into the Free Wolf, a seedy looking bar. The Free Wolf is owned by a werewolf and most of the clientele is of the supernatural variety. Of course all the regular people out there had no idea. Most stayed clear of the bar because of the feel it gave off. The front was covered in graffiti. It was situated in a strip mall between a tattoo parlor and an Ethiopian restaurant. The bouncer who stood at the door was large and very unfriendly. If you were watching the bar it would seem that no one ever went in. All the supernaturals went in the back door.
When I entered I was assaulted by the scents of all the different beings in the bar. As a weretiger my sense of smell is stronger than any regular human's, though not as strong as some of the other beings in the bar. The owner, Rolf, waved to me from behind the bar. He put out a frosty looking beer bottle on the bar and nodded his head at me. I threaded my way to him and retrieved the beer. Since I'd moved to the city I spent most of my free time in the Free Wolf. I found it comforting after leaving home where I was surrounded by my family, all the regular people in my daytime-life made my skin itch.
Weretigers are solitary creatures. We live with our mates and children until they're grown. No packs for us, not like the wolves. I left my home as soon as I'd finished college, strafing at being in my parents' house. Yet, I longed for the interaction of other supernatural beings. So I often found myself at the Free Wolf. When it was slow I would chat with Rolf, the owner. We got along well, chatting about sports or politics. We were like-minded on most topics and I liked the man, even if he was a dog. I'd confided in Rolf that I was gay and hoping to meet someone at his bar. He thought it unlikely but my experiences with normal guys in my bed weren't that great. I spent so much time worrying about not hurting them that I was distracted the whole time from my own pleasure. It could be suffocating, the sex without true release. I was getting tired of my own hand.
Rolf came back to me a moment later; I thanked him for the beer. "Fuck, it's busy tonight. Can't imagine what all these freaks are doing here...." Rolf said as he turned away to grab a bottle off the shelf behind him. As he mixed the drink he spoke again, "There are some new wolves in here tonight. A pack from out of state, they travel doing construction on new stores for some corporation. Keep an eye out. They got permission to enter our territory but I don't know much about them."
"Thanks, Rolf. I can take care of myself, but thanks for the heads-up."
"Okay, Tony. Enjoy the beer, it's on the house. Let me know if you need another." He said as he was walking down to the other end of the bar with two drinks in his hands.
I spun around on the bar stool, nursing my drink, and studied the people around me. I recognized a few. There were a bunch of vampires in one corner hanging all over each other. Two werewolves were dancing on the tiny dance floor by the jukebox, I'd played pool with the guy a couple times. I didn't recognize many others and scented the air to determine what kind of beings were around me. I caught the scent of something indistinct, faded but almost fresh. It smelled good and I tried to trace it from my barstool. I turned towards the bathrooms by the backdoor, where I'd entered.
I was staring at the door when the man walked out into the bar. He was tall, thickly muscled and dark. Our eyes locked and I knew the scent was coming from this man. He smelled like what the desert would smell like after the sun set, spicy and clean with the promise of heat that would come when the sun rose. It was the best thing I'd ever smelled. His semi-long, black hair was pushed behind his ears. His black eyes bored into me from the olive skin of his powerful face. He had on a white t-shirt, the fabric hugging his muscles and stretching over his big biceps. His forearms were covered in black hair and corded with tendons and veins. The shirt just reached the waist of his jeans which were snug on his crotch and thick thighs. I looked up from the worn construction boots on his feet to meet his eyes again. Fuck me, I was lost.
I'd never seen a guy so hot. I knew instantly that he was a werewolf, some inner instinct telling me. He must be one of the visiting pack members. I couldn't look away from him, my mind went to mush. He held up one finger at me and moved to some tables at my right where a bunch of men and some women were sitting. He broke eye contact and spoke to a couple of them. It was maybe two seconds and he was staring straight at me, headed in my direction. He'd grabbed a bottle off the table and took a swig without losing my eyes. He licked his lips and I focused on his tongue and generous lips, the shadow of his beard around his mouth and along his strong jaw.
Before I knew it, he was in front of me. His thighs brushed the front of my bent knees. He put out his hand and I took it automatically. It was damp and cool from holding the bottle he'd put in his other hand. His grip was firm, I could feel the calluses on his palm. He leaned in close, still holding my hand, and brought up his other arm to place the beer bottle on the bar behind me. I felt enclosed by his arms and his scent grew incredibly stronger. My cock hardened instantly; almost painful it was so hard. His face was close to mine, his eyes filled my vision.
"My name's Kyle. What's yours, sexy?" His breath was cool, smelling of beer and something sweet. "Tony", my mouth felt so dry.
"You smell good, Tony." He practically growled it out and moved his nose in close to my neck, inhaling loudly. I felt the heat of his body so close to mine. The fine hair on the back of my neck stood up. He moved his mouth up, close to my ear. "We should get out of here, Tone. Go somewhere private." He pulled back so I could see his face and the desire written plainly there.
He took my arm and propelled me off the barstool. Close by my side, his thigh brushing mine, he led me by the arm towards the back door. We stepped out into the humid air and he took my hand in his, leading me to a white pick-up and opening the passenger door. As he helped me up onto the bench seat it occurred to me that I was leaving a bar with a stranger. I didn't know anything about him but his name and that he was a wolf, not usually friends to tigers. I was just thinking about getting out of his truck when the other door opened and he hopped in behind the wheel. He started the truck and put it in reverse. I was mesmerized again while watching the play of muscles in his arms and under his shirt as he maneuvered the truck out of the parking lot.
