Page 60 of Bred By the Wolfman

“Doggy style,” she’ll say, gasping, as she turns over to get on her hands and knees and expose her perfect rear to me. “It’s easier on my back.”

Oh, how taking her this way reminds me of when I first sowed this cub in her, and I’ve torn some holes into my bed with how furiously I’m overtaken by the instinct to breed her full again.

But nothing compares to bringing her legs up over my hips, and watching her ever-growing belly bounce with each of my thrusts. I’m more careful when I give her my knot, but she doesn’t seem to want my care. She always demands more.

“Russ?” Dee asks one night, while I’m still stuck inside her.

“Mm?” I love to bury my snout in her hair after I fuck her and breathe in deep, filling up my head with her ripe smell. The way her flavor sweetly hums my name, I know she was meant to be mine.

“It seems kind of silly that I’m paying for a whole separate apartment. Don’t you think?”

I can’t help the smile that spreads across my face. “It is silly,” I agree. “Do you want to move in here? It won’t require much change to your lifestyle, I don’t think.”

She giggle-snorts, which tightens her up around me, and I buckle forward. A rumble of pleasure fills my throat as Dee pushes her hips back against mine, bringing my swollen cock even further into her. My eyes roll back in my head as my overstimulated knot is squeezed and milked.

She knows just how to drive me absolutely wild.

“Boomer already knows this neighborhood better than ours,” Dee says, rhythmically rolling her hips so I groan with every pass. “And he loves having a yard.”

I manage to think about the outside world long enough to remember how she mowed the other day, then picked up a pair of gardening gloves and started trimming back the hedges. I like that she already feels my home is hers.

Dee flexes the muscles of her pelvic floor, and I’m incredibly pleased that I got her that video on doing kegels to make birth easier.

“Then move in,” I grunt. “Please. Come and live with me, Dee. And bring your plants, too.”

“Since you asked nicely.” She gasps as I thrust into her, harder, and now her pussy has softened enough for me that I can pull my knot out and work it into her again. “I would love to.”

She’s seven out of ten months pregnant when we sell off most of her furniture, or give it away to the next tenants. It’s easy for me to do the heavy lifting, and soon she’s settled in my home, sharing my big master bedroom with me like I’ve always dreamed.

We have Liesel over often, or meet her at the local burger joint, since Dee’s cravings for red meat only get more and more intense. A symptom of carrying my cub, unfortunately, is that she’s starting to want things a cub would want to eat.

“It’s like carrying around the world’s most wriggly basketball,” Dee groans as she sits down on one of the benches. “She’s always moving around and kicking.”

Liesel looks indifferent, as she often does. “I’ve heard babies do this,” she says. “At least it’s not crying yet.” I get the sense Liesel isn’t much of a children person. She looks at me next. “So, what is the plan? Are you two going to get married before the baby comes?”

Dee blanches. “Married?” She shoots me a guilty look as she splutters. “We haven’t talked about that yet.”

I shrug. “I don’t see any rush. The cub comes when the cub comes, and our relationship doesn’t hinge on that.”

Liesel’s eyebrows go up, and Dee gives me a relieved smile. She’s not there yet, and I won’t rush her. I want her to come at her own speed.

“I see,” is all Liesel says, but her eyes never leave me. “Are you going to nurse the baby, then?”

Again, things Dee and I haven’t talked about. I get the sense her friend knows that, and is intentionally stirring up the hornet’s nest.

“I-I don’t know,” Dee says, wrapping her arms around herself. “I’ll be right there, so, probably yes.”

I don’t express the joy I feel inside. I just stroke her back and slowly, her arms release. Then she smiles up at me and takes my hand.

By the time she is eight months pregnant, though, there are fewer smiles and more groans of irritation. I work out her tight muscles as best I can, kneading her sore body with my knuckles, and get more muscle relaxant from the hospital. I buy all her favorite foods, and make sure she does her exercises, as much as she hates it. At night, I curl up around her when she’s too cold, and turn on the fan when she’s too hot.

It’s only been nine months when her water breaks.

DEE

The moment I go into labor, I see a side of Russ I’ve never seen before. All his hair is standing on end, and his lips are curled in a snarl as he grabs his phone and starts making calls.

“No,” he snaps at someone on the other end. “She’s coming to my hospital. I don’t care about DreamTogether. Our relationship with you is concluded.” Then he slams the END CALL button and makes another one.

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