Page 8 of Bred By the Wolfman

One week turns into two, and then two into three. I’m nearly vibrating with my need to have her again. I stand in the shower every morning and pump my cock hard, remembering how tight she was, how hard she squeezed me when she climaxed, and groan as thick spurts of white shoot out of me, painting the shower wall. Then I stand there, limp under the hot water, and pant until I can finish soaping off.

Can I really let her go after this is done?

I’m pleased when I get an automated call from DreamTogether telling me that my surrogate is ovulating again, and it’s time for another visit.

I wake up much too early the next morning, my blood already pumping hard and fast. I’m more than eager to see her again, to slip my knot into her and fill her completely. I’m ready for her sweet moans, her unrestrained cries of pleasure, even her screams.

I did make her scream. I wonder if the other clients are able to do that.

This time, though, I have an ulterior motive. I’m going to try to gather what I can about her. Perhaps if I can get a hold of her phone number, or where she lives, or even just her real name, I’ll be able to sniff her out.

I don’t know if I can really let her go when this is all over.

By the time I reach the unmarked gray office building out on Cedar Road, my claws are gripping the steering wheel tightly. I manage to pull into a spot and climb out without scraping anything up, but I have to close my hands into fists when I head inside just to have somewhere to put the tension.

Fuck, my cock is hard as a rock already.

I talk to the receptionist through gritted teeth, and she gives me a funny look as she marks down that I’ve arrived. Then she heads off, popping my file into a holder on the wall.

There. That’s where my female’s information would be. I glance around the waiting room with its bright fluorescents and find two other monsters there—one big basilisk, his huge tail curled around two chairs. Then on the other end is a cyclops playing blocks with his toddler. I wonder if his child is from DreamTogether, too.

Great. Well, I can’t peek at her file with others watching, but this won’t be my last chance.

I sit back down and wait until the receptionist returns. She gestures first at the basilisk, then leads him away. I was late last time, so I made sure to come early this time. But I think I made it worse for myself because now I have to sit here and wait.

Finally, it’s my turn, and I’m led to a different small, sterile room than the one where we met the first time. For a split second I panic, wondering if they’re taking me to the wrong person, if there will be a different human woman waiting when I go in.

There’s no way in hell I’m putting my cock in someone else.

I’m relieved when I walk in the door and find a familiar ass in front of me, raised up into the air by the bench. She’s strapped down to it, which was a blessing last time when I absolutely ravaged her. I wonder if they had to throw all that rubber away because I destroyed it.

Instantly, the smell of her arousal hits me in the face, and the white tile walls vanish around us. If I wasn’t hard before, I sure am now. All it takes is seeing her, breathing in a whiff of her, and I need nothing more than to fuck her again.

But I need to go slow. That’s what a sensitive creature like her requires—lots of warming up, so she’ll be soft enough to take my knot again. She’s so small that I have to work up to it.

“Not nervous today, I see.” I lick my chops, and her body twitches in response.

“Nope,” she answers, keeping her eyes firmly ahead. I had rather hoped she’d try to look over her shoulder at me again, but it seems like she’s trying to be more professional this time. “Welcome back, Bill.”

That name. I’m such an idiot.

“What about you?” I ask as I approach her pert, round butt. It’s nice and big, just like her wide hips, and great for groping. I run a finger over one soft cheek, and instantly her body twitches. “You call me Bill. What do I call you?”

Down below her little puckered ass, her pink slit is already opening and closing, pulsing with her need. So she remembers our last encounter as positively as I do. That’s good.

“Me?” She sounds confused by the question. “What do you need it for?”

I lean down towards her, breathing against her exposed flesh. She trembles.

“So I can shout it while I’m fucking you,” I say.

It’s hard for me not to strip down right away and bury my dick in her again, but this time, I’m going to take my time, and see if I can weasel a detail out that might help me.

“O-oh,” she says, clearly taken off-guard. “Well... you can call me Amanda.”

I arch an eyebrow. Amanda. I don’t think it fits her at all, but at least I know it’s a fake name. She’s wiser than to give out her real one under surveillance.

“Well, Amanda,” I croon, extending my claws slightly to drag them down her ass. She gasps, and her pussy pulses again. The scent of her need is flooding my nose, filling up my snout and head. Damn, it’s so good. “Are you ready for round two with the wolfman?”

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