Page 5 of Bred By the Wolfman

“Oh,” she moans as she suddenly wriggles, and then clenches up again. A mini-orgasm. Her body has taken well to mine already. I stroke her back as the fog of my own climax starts to clear. But I’m still anchored to her, and it will be some time before we can separate.

“How was that, my dear?” I ask, a little sultry. I peel back my lips and lick down from her ear to her neck, and she shivers all over. Her sweet pussy trembles around me.

“Really...” She swallows like her mouth is dry. “Really good.” She cranes her neck ever-so-slightly. “Will you come back, Bill?”

“Of course I will,” I say, brushing my hand down her spine to her round ass. “I’ll see you in one month.” I don’t know that for sure, but I’m going to hope. I want to know if my hunch about her is right or not—that she might be more to me than some anonymous woman with a great ass, an adorable moan and a pristine pussy.

“Okay. In a month, then.” Her shoulders droop. Does that mean she’s feeling the attachment, too?

We wait quietly until my knot comes down, and I spend it fantasizing about what she looks like, how she might feel under my hands when she’s full of my cub. Not that that will happen. Then, I slowly slide out, cupping my hand under her swollen, puffy cunt to catch the come that sloshes out. She sags against the bench, and I lick each of the cheeks of her butt.

“Thank you,” I murmur to her, cleaning her with a towel as best I can. She moans and twitches as I mop her up, and I’ve never smelled something as beautiful as her covered in my spend.

“Look forward to next time,” she says in a sleepy voice, and I wish I could hold her. Instead, I settle for running a claw down her back, then patting her once before leaving the room.

At the reception desk, I’m told that they’ll call me before my surrogate is scheduled to ovulate so I can come in for a follow-up appointment. They’ll administer weekly tests, but it’s likely I’ll have to return at least a few times to make sure it sticks. Once it does, they’ll let me know, and then I won’t have to come in again until my cub is born.

It makes my gut shudder to think I won’t be there for her pregnancy. But that’s the point of all this: I don’t know her, and she doesn’t know me. There are penalties for breaking confidentiality, and I could lose my shot at ever having a child of my own if I tried to find out her identity.

When I walk out into the sunshine, though, I feel better and lighter than I ever have. My body is at peace in a way it’s never been before. Mating so thoroughly with such a perfect woman has settled something deep inside me—while a different flame has ignited.

I finally turn my cell phone back on, and it’s full of missed calls. Shit. I rush to my car and get in, then slam the door closed. I had taken today off for my appointment, but this is clearly an emergency.

I put on the gas and drive out of the parking lot, though I feel like my mind and my heart are back in that room with the mother of my future cub. She took me so well, and felt so impossibly good around me. Her scent was like nothing else in the world.

Heading away from that building, I’m almost certain that she’s my mate.

three

DEE

My vagina is pretty sore after my experience with the wolfman. At the same time, I miss it. I wish he could have done it again right after, and then again after that, and then...

I can’t get caught up thinking like that. This is a transaction, like I told him. He comes inside me as many times as he can until my test result comes up positive, and then we never see each other again. When the baby is born—his cub, as he insists—I’ll hand it off to DreamTogether and they’ll be reunited with their father.

Then I’ll take some time off, and meet the next one.

I doubt, though, that any of my other clients will treat me with such unrestrained desire as the wolfman did. He wanted me, that much was obvious. He wouldn’t have lapped at my clit so hungrily if he didn’t want to, if all he was after was to get me ready for him.

No, he’d wanted to make me feel good. And the way he fucked me, seeking out all my pleasure spots like a missile, I clench a little between my legs as I drive home.

That night, even though I’m tender, I fuck myself with my dildo and attack my clit with my wand, trying to relive it. Damn. And this is just my first session with my first client. Maybe I’m not cut out for this after all, if I have to remain detached and professional in the face of... that.

Part of me hopes it didn’t work this time. Our follow-up appointment is required, but after that, it’s all dependent on the tests. Who knows how many more times I’ll see him.

Will he eat me out like I’m a cake covered in icing again?

It’s going to be a long month, I can already tell.

Luckily for me, I’m paid by DreamTogether for every moment after my first session. It felt absolutely fucking incredible to turn in my hat and uniforms to my creepy manager at McFlips, then say goodbye to the few coworkers I liked on the line.

I wonder how much of a bill the wolfman has rung up. Each breeding session costs him, and he’s already paid the salary I’ll make while I do nothing but sit around and incubate for however many months. It’s not like I can ask him what he does for a living. The company was very straightforward in the handbook and paperwork about sharing any identifying details. We’re under surveillance, too, for my safety—and surely they would hear it. Then I’d lose this job for good.

First thing the next morning, I make a list of everything I want to do now that I have the time. High up on the list is bingeing the next season of my favorite show, The Golden Court. I haven’t started it yet because I know it’ll suck me in and I won’t be able to stop until it’s over.

Flipping on the TV, I look up some easy knitting patterns, then try my hand at it while the show plays. The sun rises higher in the sky, and I have some cereal, then remember the vitamin pills I’m supposed to be taking. The company was also pretty prescriptive about my diet, and I’m positive that having sugary cornmeal at 11 a.m. isn’t what they had in mind.

I make a grocery list of healthy foods, using some recipes out of a cookbook that’s collected a fine layer of dust, and head to the store. It’s the middle of the day, so the aisles are clogged with old people and parents wrangling little kids while they try to shop.

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