¡M! - so we livin' life like a video.

[Barrett]

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Credit for most of the retarded innuendos in this post to the bloodhound gang XD Also this somehow got way longer than I intended |:

The teen had loose morals, sure, but he wasn't such a slimy snake as to go after another man's woman—especially when said man was the size of a bear and held a well-respected position in the pack. But Barrett was blissfully ignorant of Ghita's betrothal, and frankly, he couldn't imagine her being tied down. She seemed so free-spirited and impulsive; in a way, they were cut from the same cloth. Perhaps these things were inevitable. The air was thick with pheromones and increasingly heavy breaths—there was no turning back now.

Each soft touch roused a soft mm from the male, who returned each nudge and kiss with lavish affection. There was no true love between the wolves, but lust and infatuation were suitable substitutes, and it didn't stop him from loving the moment. He continued to explore her yippee bog with a solitary fingertip, withdrawing it on occasion and tracing circles around the opening before teasing it back inside. He felt the muscles progressively relax more and more, and when the timing seemed right, he gave her its full length.

She began to undo his pants and he paused briefly to wriggle out of them, absently kicking them off to the side. By now he was at full attention, and as she held him in her grasp, he couldn't help but deliver a quick thrust into her hand. She muttered something in Italian; he had no idea what it meant, but the accent was exotic and her voice was lusty—it was driving him wild. God, he couldn't wait to fuck her. But not yet.

He resumed his previous task and allowed her to get a few more strokes in before shuffling backwards down the length of the cot. He knelt on the ground with his head between her knees and tasted her, using his free fingers to spread the folds apart for better access. A second digit soon joined the first in probing her depths, all while his tongue continued to lap as far in as physics would allow. Finally, he could take no more. He had to have her.

His licks returned to her inner thighs, then trailed up her abdomen—his body slid along hers in full contact as he moved back up to her neck. Only now did his hand cease diligently fiddling her cove, as he used it to brace himself above her. His dude piston throbbed against the outside of her pudding hatch, and he rubbed it against her a few times for good measure. Then, with some quick guidance from his hand, he found his way inside.

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