This choice: They decide to go someplace more, secluded, like a nearby cave • Go Back...Chapter #4Black Passion by: Unknown More warm blood rushed into Red’s soft, rosy cheeks as a blush filled his face. Even in this blistering cold, Meign made him feel so warm and light, like a feather. His mitten covered hand kept the wolf’s huge paw against his face, where it covered the whole side of his face. As cold as that rough, leathery appendage was, Reed liked the feel of it against his soft warm skin, especially as he looked at that rugged face, his eyes running up that muzzle and locking with Meign’s. Those icy steel eyes, like gleaming gray moons, seemed to pull him in, the slightest hint of reflection visible on their glassy surface as clouds of hot breath wafted from their open mouths. Then that last few inches of open space vanished, and he pressed his soft pink lips against those rough black lupine lips, his tongue slipping out to playfully dart across that coarse and yet pleasant flesh. Then that rugged, wet wolf tongue burst free, wrestling with his soft human tongue. Like a small microcosm of their constant wrestling and mischievous banter, big, bulky wolf dominated soft, gentle human in the passionate embrace of tongues and the tender, loving lips pressing as tightly against each other as possible. When his tongue was finally let go and his lips broke away, a soft squeak of happiness escaped Reed’s lips and a shudder of delight shook his whole body.
Gods, he was perfect. Everything about Meign reeked of masculinity. Quite literally, actually; the wolf’s natural musk was rich with testosterone, the smell of pure wilderness, and, more often than not, male lust. His body was an eight and a half foot colossus of thick, black fur and coarse, leathery skin, the mixture of which was somehow soft and rugged at the same time. Those deep eyes were incredibly beautiful, and he loved the way they gleamed in the light like silver pools. Those lips, so perfectly rough and delicious, were a mysterious pleasure to explore with his fingers, his lips, his tongue every time they met. Those thick arms, rich with muscle and coursing with power, so often embracing him or pulling him closer or tracing across his soft, milk-white flesh, occasionally raking scrapes with those strong feral claws of his. That broad, bulky chest, equally rippling with muscle under that soft yet rugged black coat, so warm and comfortable; he remembered many afternoons with his head resting on the vast plain of ebony pelt, listening to the wolf’s powerful heartbeat. And of course... that thick, engorged sheath he had, on occasion, grown so familiar with. Even now he could see a bit of pink wolfhood peaking forth from the furry black cover, and he knew that he was about to get very familiar with that part of Meign again.
Reed’s emerald eyes flickered up to meet those beautiful silver spheres again, and a soft smile split his lips. He whispered quietly, “You are so heavenly... Gods, I really missed you, Meign.” His blush deepened. “Let’s go off of the path and find somewhere private.” Or at least a little further away from right outside my grandmother’s house, he thought, hoping like crazy that Grandma had not looked out the window anytime in the last few minutes... or had it been hours? Time was meaningless around Meign. He could spend a hundred years just admiring his marble-sculpted figure and not get bored.
That familiar, throaty, gravelly chuckle rumbled forth, and those great burly arms all but scooped him up. “I knew I liked you for a reason, human,” Meign responded with a playful, impish tease, embracing Reed’s tender little hand with this thick burly wolf paw. He led his human lover away from the cottage and into the woods. Even as the smaller of the two scooped up his basket with his free hand and stumbled after him, the wolf was thinking of secluded little spaces they could sneak off to. Not too close to Reed’s village or other forest cottages for humans, but not close to any wolf dens or caves either; they couldn’t risk being found by members of either race, because of the hatred between the two species.
“Where are we going?” Reed asked with a curious glance around. As much as he knew these woods, there were still places he’d never been, while Meign had spent his whole life in these French forests, exploring the land and living on it. “Not far,” was his only response, and the human accepted it, knowing after all these months of running around that he could trust the wolf with his life. It was hard to believe that they’d only known each other that long; it only seemed like yesterday when he’d twisted his ankle in the forest and the wolf had found him. He’d feared for his live, imagining a slow death of being eaten alive or tortured by such a savage and cruel beast, but received kindness instead. They met a few weeks later when he’d recovered enough to really walk on his own, and it had been pretty awkward at first, mostly small talk. Reed would never have believed it if anyone told him he’d be secretly courting a wolf when he and his mother came to this village, he’d laugh them off and think they were the village loon.
His train of thought was interrupted as water cascaded over him, drenching him from head to toe. He spluttered for breath, taking a few deep gasps as the sound of Meign laughing at him filled his ears. He tossed him an angry look for a moment, then he looked around. They were in some kind of cave, just behind a waterfall. He had to hand it to the wolf; he knew plenty of places to hide.
Shivering in his cold and now drenched clothes, the human’s teeth chattered as he tried to warm himself up. Meign’s blasted laughter continued, and then the wolf spoke.   indicates the next chapter needs to be written. |
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