Holdan’s great hands grasped his lover’s thighs, his hips bucking to ram his ruby lance deep. A howl escaped from Torki’s throat, flying up into the clear, black sky to dance among the twinkling stars. 

“Holdan,” he moaned. “Oh, don’t stop.”

Holdan pulled back, circling, plunging once more to strike the willing anvil of Torki’s core. The russet wolf’s prostate was the red hot ingot which he would pound with breathless fury, to shape and to coax like the blacksmith at his forge. Torki’s gravid belly wobbled, rising and falling with every sobbing breath as the wolf screamed again. Pain rippled through him, lancing like lightning to erupt in his brain. How good it hurt, how he thrilled as that pulsing rod of hot flesh filled his rectum, stretching his straining walls as Holdan plummeted deep to collide with the shivering gates of his gravid womb. Torki shifted his wide hips, allowing himself to slide down Holdan’s cock. The grey wolf gave a sudden grunt as the quivering ring of Torki’s anus would meet his muscular knot. 

Burying that crimson dagger to the hilt, Torki would then close around Holdan, drawing that shivering member up into himself. Holdan let out a gasp, his belly lurching so that he suddenly doubled over. A hand flew to Torki’s swollen belly, bracing himself as his lover sucked him into that alien world. Wet and hot, unlike anything else, so strange and so familiar; Holdan found himself being led, guided further into that precious glade. His lover took him, closing around his cock, stroking with firm, quivering muscles, filled with the raw life which pumped in the russet wolf’s veins. The amber eyes of Torki glimmered softly, a knowing smile spreading over his flushed face as he clenched his belly and drew Holdan into himself. The grey wolf found himself falling backwards, his hips creaking as they were pulled forward, his pubic bone grinding into Torki’s dimpled ass. 

“O-Oh,” groaned Holdan. 

The grey wolf collapsed on top of Torki’s gravid swell, his burly arms shaking as they surrounded his shrieking mate. The russet wolf’s nipples caressed his belly, rubbing so deliciously to spurt their warm essence into his shaggy pelt. Holdan seized up Torki, clasping him to his broad chest, the russet breasts of his love pressing into his chest as the pair fell back into the bubbling pool with a splash. Holdan let out a strangled gasp, his back against the rough stone as Torki’s legs closed around his waist. The gravid wolf’s arms draped over Holdan’s shoulders, while Holdan himself, would sink his fingers deep into the jiggling globes of Torki’s wobbling rump. Those amber eyes glimmered, like red gold in the reflection of the moonlight. Streaks of luminous silver dappled Torki’s fur, making the lupine appear as something ethereal. His lips glistened wetly, succulent fruits which begged to be kissed. His pendulous breasts hung fat and heavy, still flowing their sweet elixir, their nipples erect and hard, swaying above the ripe swell of his pregnant belly. The faint stirrings of new life churned in his bloated womb, roiling in his belly to match the fattening of his plump balls. 

Torki’s scrotum lay in Holdan’s lap, poised just above his shivering rod. Those fat testicals, like delicate plums, were so hot to the touch, twin coals ready to burn him should his fingers dare to venture too near. Holdan’s cock pulsed, spurting deep the first of his shimmering precum, splattering the threshold of Torki’s fecund womb. The grey wolf squeezed his mate’s ass, eliciting a squeal from the lips of his love. Torki raised his hips, bucking up that crimson pole, crashing down with a shuddering thud to slam Holdan hard into the rocky bottom of the mineral spring. Boiling water flew into the air in a steaming spray, droplets twinkling in the moonlight to rain around the pair as they shouted their jubilation to the starry night. 

“A-Ah, Holdan,” moaned Torki. His milk heavy breasts slapped his pregnant belly as he rose and fell upon his mate’s shivering cock. “Ah, don’t… Not yet, my love. I need this.”

“Urg, you are more lusty than usual,” groaned Holdan. “I do not know how much longer I can hold out.”

Faster, Torki moved, his hips swiveling. His body bucked, dancing to that primal hymn of life, of the symphony of whimpering cries and the throaty moans which joined in that holy chorus to drift upon the night sky. Holdan’s hands slipped free of his lover’s ass, coming to rest upon Torki’s hips. Torki panted, gulping the cool night air, his pace beginning to slow. His ass slid down Holdan’s cock, taking that throbbing rod all the way to the hilt. Hot flesh filled his rump, his belly expanding with Holdan’s manhood. The grey wolf gave a strained grunt, his member erupting the first string of virile semen to gush deep into Torki’s greedy womb. 

“No, not yet,” Torki begged. 

He slid up, popping free of Holdan’s member. Tucking a hand beneath his belly, he turned, bracing his gravid bulk with one arm on the edge of the pool. He bowed, bringing his dripping tail up to reveal his fat ass. His fur glistened, damp and sodden. Those ripe cheeks split down the middle, showing the puffy ring that was his gaping anus. The pungent flow of his nectar, the shimmering of Holdan’s precum, glistened like a sugary glaze on that black ring. 

“My love,” whined Torki. “I want you to take me from behind, like when we first made love.” He grasped a flabby cheek and pulled, spreading his blossom wide. “Please, my love.”

Holdan was on his feet, so proudly standing with his manhood thrusting up from the wiry tangle of his pubic fur. The heat steamed from that ruby lance, tears of bitter precum flowing like wine down the plump underside to seep into the fur of his balls. 

“Why are you so eager tonight?” Holdan came to place his hands on Torki’s hips. Such wide, good hips they were. He knelt, his muzzle coming close to that quivering blossom. “I’ve not known you to be so demanding.”

“I-I…” Torki could not bring himself to tell his mate the truth. Deep in his trembling heart, he knew that Holdan should know, yet when the words would come to his mouth, they only got caught in his throat. Like a choking on a fish bone, he coughed on those precious syllables, unable to say what was on his mind. “I just need you, my love,” he managed at last to whisper.

His grey fingers spread themselves through that russet weave, cupping Torki’s fat cheeks, spreading his lover wide so that the pungent aroma of the wolf’s fragrant musk would waft hot and thick into his flaring nostrils. Such a scent would make his head swim, more intoxicating than the finest mead. Holdan’s tongue flopped over his teeth, lolling like a fat pink worm before that flowing bloom. He could taste the sweetness of his love in the air, like the morning dew rising with the sun. Slowly, Holdan leaned in, relishing the damp warmth which radiated between those shuddering mounds, his tongue coming to circle that puffy ring. Swirling, he lapped the dew which clung to Torki’s button, pausing to draw his tongue back, to hold it to the roof of his mouth as if to savor such a flavor. The taste of his lover was on his tongue, his brain on fire with the desire to claim this wanting wolf. His lips met that ring in a kiss which blasted the air from Torki’s lungs. Holdan’s tongue slipped deep, slithering along those familiar walls, finding the trembling core. He stroked, caressing Torki’s prostate, spurring the russet wolf to howl his joy to the stars. Torki’s cock shivered, spurting its shimmering precum into the waters of the bubbling pool as Holdan plucked his tongue from that wondrous blossom. 

The grey wolf stood up, wiping his mouth with the back of a hand. He had tasted of the fruit of his lover and now, he craved to sup upon such rich flesh. Holdan grasped Torki’s wide hips, the russet wolf giving a mewling cry as that crimson rod would penetrate his puckered bloom once more. Holdan slammed his throbbing manhood deep, crashing into the gates of Torki’s womb to set the very foundations to rock in his wake. Torki groaned, sinking to his elbows as he sought succor in the coolness of the spongy lichens. Holdan lowered himself, his chest resting in the curve of Torki’s back. His hand came free of his lover’s hip, seeking the crimson rod which shivered in the warmth of that swirling pool. Fingers tangling in the jungle of Torki’s wiry pubic fur, he found that shuddering pole, his hand closing around his lover’s cock. He pulled back, Torki closing around him, refusing to allow his lover to escape as Holdan began to stroke. With slow, purposeful pumps, the grey wolf would bring his love into that frothing boil of carnal ecstasy. Faster, he slid down Torki’s rod, rising up to his tip. His own manhood would thrust, slamming deep, circling the trembling prostate to make Torki howl in pained elation. Stars burst in the russet wolf’s eyes, his mind whirling as he fought back the delicious, nauseating dizziness which threatened to overwhelm him. 

The water around them sloshed, flying up over the rim of the stony spring, splashing across the grass as the slap of raw flesh echoed through the empty plain. The grunts of Holdan were a chorus to the whimpering of Torki. The russet wolf wept, his feeble cries the shrill cries of the conquered bitch. His strength failed him, he fell to the side of the pool, unable to move as his love would utterly take him. 

“O-Oh, Holdan,” he sobbed. “Oh, yes.”

Holdan’s cock plunged deep, no longer pulling back, but circling, prodding. His hips swayed, locking into Torki’s fat ass as the strings of his semen would flow forth. His balls churned, disgorging their virile seed to gush into Torki’s hungry womb. The russet wolf pushed back, pressing his rump into Holdan, eager to lap up every blessed drop of that potent elixir. Holdan pumped, thrusting harder, letting his essence flow freely to swell the ripe belly of his love. His hands found the sweetly expanding belly, feeling the skin stretching as Torki gorged himself. Loose semen spurted from the russet wolf’s broken flower, clouding the pool around them as his overfilled womb could take no more.

“My love,” Torki cried. “I cannot hold any more.”

Holdan pulled back, his cock plucking free to allow the warm gush of his semen to flow from Torki’s anus, drooling down the wolf’s thigh into the bubbling waters. The once clear pool now became milky white as Holdan’s semen spread through the mineral water. Crashing into Holdan’s arms, Torki fell back into the pool. There, the pair would remain, neither daring to speak, for a single word would spoil that primal magic. 

“That was wonderful,” said Holdan. “I’ve not known such passion from you since we first met.”

“It was something special,” replied Torki. His gaze turned from his love, up to the silver face of Father Moon. “O’ Moon,” he chanted. “Bless us on this night.”

“My love,” said Holdan. “What is this truly about? Why did you come out here alone?”

“Holdan, I… I did not want our children to be born without the blessings of the ancestors, of the moon.” Torki bit his fat, ebon lip. “Since we abandoned our jarl and came to settle here, the priests will not accept us.” His lip began then to tremble. “I-I wanted the moon to see us, to shine its holy light upon us. I wished it to know of our love.” He turned his amber eyes on Holdan. “Tell me, is that so foolish?”

Holdan drew Torki into his arms, the russet wolf’s gravid body shaking. “You are not foolish, my love,” he said. “I too, was out on this night, seeking the blessings of our ancestors. Before I came across you, I found something. Something of great import.” He lifted Torki’s face, his lips spreading into a broad smile. “Come, fetch your robe, my love. We have a short journey ahead of us.”

He struggled out of the steaming pool, letting the crystalline droplets run down the contours of his muscular frame. The rivulets which flowed from Holdan’s body drew the attention of Torki to the wolf’s perfectly carved legs, the hard muscles which rippled along his back. The russet wolf wrapped an arm around his pendulous breasts and bit down on his lower lip as he watched his love slip back into his breeches. Holdan slid his jerkin over his shoulders and then turned to the pregnant lupine. 

“Come, my love,” he said and extended his hand. “You have to follow me.”

“Holdan, won’t you tell me what this is about?” asked Torki as he took the grey hand.

But, the grey wolf would not answer. His mouth still wearing that impossibly broad grin, he took hold of Torki’s wrist and with one mighty pull, yanked the pregnant wolf from the pool. The steaming waters splashed around their ankles, seeping into the grass as wisps of vapor wafted from Torki’s dripping fur. He shivered, feeling for the first time the chill of the night winds which blew from the north. Holdan quickly scooped up the wolf’s robe and slung around his mate’s body, careful to draw the folds over Torki’s gravid swell. 

“Must not let the babies get too cold,” Holdan whispered. 

His hot, wet breath was on Torki’s neck, his arms around his lover’s waist, drawing the gravid wolf into him. Torki’s mouth trembled, his lips hungering for the caress of Holdan’s mouth. 

“Now,” said Holdan, “let us be away.”

With Torki’s hand in his, Holdan led the gravid wolf across the night soaked plain. The whispers of the wind on the dewy grass were like the voices of so many ghosts, restless spirits who haunted that shadowy moor. Torki’s amber eyes were wide, reflecting the moonlight as he scanned the distant horizon. 

“Holdan, love,” he began. “This isn’t the way home.”

“I know,” answered his mate. “We are not heading for home.”

“But, where then?” Torki could not keep the tremor from his voice. “You aren’t telling me and I don’t want to be out here, Holdan.”

“We will be fine,” said the grey wolf. He turned, his glacial gaze settling on his love. “It’s not far. Then, we will begin.”

The damp soil was cold against his feet, but Torki would say no more. He followed behind his love, confident that Holdan knew what he was doing. Further, the pair roamed over the sleeping grasslands, the grey wolf marching ahead, his eyes fixed on the black horizon. 

“There,” Holdan suddenly exclaimed. “I see it ahead of us.”

Torki screwed up his vision, peering into the darkness. At first, nothing would penetrate that gloom, but as he continued to stare into the night, there came to him the vision of standing obelisks of raw stone. Five they were, carved from the living rock so long ago. They gleamed like skeletal fingers reaching up for the silver disk that was the moon. As the two wolves drew closer, there could be seen the faded carvings of the ancient runic script. Figures which had long ago succumbed to the elements and time’s inevitable march, were painted in dull ochre upon each stone. The five standing stones formed a ring around a sixth slab which lay on its side in the middle, like that of an altar.

“Here it is,” said Holdan, his eyes sparkling. “I told you, this is what I wanted you to see.”

“Standing stones?” Torki’s ears swiveled. “I thought that none were left.”

Holdan shook his shaggy head. “No, some remain, still honoring our ancestors who built them so long ago.” He took Torki by the hand and led the gravid lupine into the center. “Here, love, lay down on the slab.”

Holdan slipped Torki’s robe from his round body and laid the garment across the bare stone like a blanket. Shivering, Torki would slowly lay his naked body upon the altar stone. On his back, his swollen belly extended into the heavens, surrounded by the imperious stones which ringed the pair. 

“My love,” said Torki. “Why are we doing this?”

“This is holy ground,” said Holdan. “The spirits of our ancestors are here. Can you not feel them, Torki?” He lifted both arms over his head and howled at the frosty stars. “O’ ancients who gaze down upon us, here me. We are but two mortals, hopelessly adrift on that ancient sea. We come on this night to beseech you,” he placed a clawed hand on Torki’s swollen belly, “though we may be scorned by priests and kings. Bless the lives which grow within the belly of my mate. See that they shall be born as true wolves.”

A gasp flew from Torki’s lips. “Holdan, you would call upon the ancestors themselves?”

“I would,” cried the grey wolf. “I would gladly cross the river of mist into the dark world of black ice if it meant that our children would be able to be born with the blessings of our gods and ancestors. I don’t care if the priests will not do it. We will show our ancestors our love and make them bless the lives which we have sown.”

“Oh, Holdan.” Tears sparkled on Torki’s wet cheeks and the russet wolf could not hold back the emotion which overwhelmed him. The lives within his gravid womb kicked, fluttering against his swollen belly as he clasped his husband’s hand. “You would do this? Invoke the very ancestors themselves?”

“I would do anything for you.” Holdan took Torki into his arms. “But, we must show our love to them, my dear.”

He laid Torkis back on the slab and then took hold of his breeches. 

“We must show that our love is great. We must make love here, under the moon and stars, surrounded by these ancient stones.”

Heat bloomed in Torki’s cheeks as Holdan began to slip from his clothes. “My love, is your blade still sharp after such a furious battle?”

Holdan’s smile would only broaden as he pulled his breeches down his hips. “You will find, Torki, that my blade is always sharp.”

The crimson rod that was his manhood leapt from his straining breeches, throbbing with full erection. The muscular knot was like a fist, swelling from his furry sheath as he peeled back his breeches to show the bloated orbs which dangled between his hard thighs. Such a display would make Torki’s maiden flower bloom, the pungent aroma of his honey wafting on the night air like fragrant blossoms of the heather which filled the valleys in spring. The heady aroma tickled Holdan’s nostrils, igniting the turbulent desires which burned in his stomach like a furnace. He threw his jerkin from his broad shoulders and stood over his love. Torki slung a careless arm across his weeping breasts, a move which did more to draw the eye, than to conceal his swaying mammaries.

“Am I to be your sacrifice?” the russet wolf would say with a coquettish turn of his muzzle. 

Torki drew one shapely leg up, his thigh wobbling in moonlight as he shifted his wide, round hips. His fat rump swelled beneath him, the deep chasm between his cheeks glistening with his eagerness. The ruby of his manhood swelled beneath his belly, comical for the maternal beauty of his gravid figure. He extended one lissome arm up, his wrist seized by the grey wolf who brought his slim fingers to those black lips. Holdan would kiss those offered digits one by one, his other hand gliding up the curve of Torki’s belly. His claw would slowly trace the hump which was the russet wolf’s navel, his fingers absently rustling through the reddish-brown fur to plunge down the slope of his lover’s quaking stomach. The muscles of Torki’s belly clenched beneath his fingertips, drawing Holdan down the pregnant swell to the tangled weave of Torki’s pubic fur, where that fragrant jungle, damp and hot with the wolf’s desire, would seek to entangle those grey fingers. Holdan’s groping hand slithered deep into those forbidden depths, his claws gently plucking at the matted fur, finding the base of Torki’s manhood. 

“O-Oh,” sighed Torki. The pregnant wolf’s cock shivered as Holdan ran a single finger up the ruby flesh. 

Circling the spongy tip, Holdan would then take hold of that trembling rod, squeezing the ruby lance in one callused fist. Slowly, he began to stroke, his hand falling, coming to stop at the tight knot which swelled from Torki’s sheath. The pregnant wolf shuddered, waves of purest bliss washing over him. His arm fell from his ballooning breasts, revealing the glimmer of his milky nipples. Streams of albin trickled from the tender buds which crowned his gravid belly, each so painfully swollen as to burst at the slightest touch. Holdan placed one knee on the rock slab, his hand now rising, closing harder around Torki’s groin as he came to caress that weeping tip. The shimmer of the russet wolf’s precum glimmered in the moonlight, making his cock stream liquid silver to run into the fur of Holdan’s grey fist. With his thumb, he would press into the red tip, circling ever so slowly, his glacial eyes fixed on the amber pools of his love. His hand planted on the stone, he leaned down, his lips seeking the trembling mouth, finding the heat of need on those fat, black lips which smacked so deliciously against his flesh. 

“Mmm,” moaned Torki as they met in a kiss which would suck the breath from his heaving lungs. “But Holdan,” he would pant. “Surely, such meager displays are not enough to convince our ancestors of our love.”

“I should think not,” replied the grey wolf. “We must yet prove ourselves.”

Holdan’s mouth would once more collide with Torki’s lips, the wet crash of their lips ringing against the silent stones of their ancestors. The grey wolf’s tongue slipped from his jaws, plummeting between Torki’s teeth to explore the red gums, to lap the smoothness of the russet wolf’s fangs. Holdan’s tongue curled back, caressing the ridged palate. Torki shuddered, his arms looping around Holdan’s neck, pulling him in closer so that their tongues may entwine. Like enraged serpents they would slither and writhe, twisting around one another as each sought to plunge deep into the other’s throat. Holdan raised his shaggy head, their mouths separating, yet their tongues still clashed, twisting in the open air between them. Saliva glistened as it ran from Holdan’s chin, pattering in shimmering droplets onto Torki’s fur. The grey wolf at last would pluck himself from his love, allowing Torki to tilt his head back to expose his supple throat. 

The grey wolf attacked that offering of flesh, his mouth closing on Torki’s neck. The russet wolf moaned, his back arching so that his pendulous breasts would jiggle, his nipples thrusting upwards with a spray of warm milk which floated on the night air like sea foam. Down, Holdan plunged, suckling the flesh of his love, finding the empty chalice of Torki’s collarbone. Such a pity to have drained that precious cup only moments before, he mused as his lips came to the gentle indent, filling that precious oasis with his kisses. Torki hissed, drawing in a breath which made his belly swell suddenly with a sharp gasp. His fingers dug deep into the shaggy pelt around Holdan’s neck, his knuckles white beneath his fur. In spite of the chill of the winds, every nerve was on fire. His body was a gravid blaze, threatening to consume him as his lover’s lips would crest his clavicle, plummeting down his sternum to crash into the wobbling ravine between his sagging breasts. 

“A-Ah, Holdan, my love,” Torki moaned. “Oh, yes, here before the eyes of our ancestors.”

Clenched in the callused hands of Holdan, Torki’s bloated breasts vented their milky fury. Streams of warm albin flowed freely, running between the grey fingers to soak into the wolf’s fur as his lips would find that precious bud. Erect, thrusting upwards like a finger pointing to the moon, Torki’s nipple beckoned to Holdan. The grey wolf’s lips encircled that weeping nub, his tongue sliding around the bumpy areola, tasting the flesh of his love. Torki’s fingers entangled themselves into Holdan’s fur, his head thrown back in utter elation as his love would sup upon his rich bounty. The warmth of Torki’s sweet essence filled his mouth, making Holdan grow dizzy, intoxicated on such heady brew. With gleeful relish, he did swallow the milk of his love, letting it pool hot in his belly. Holdan pulled his lips free with a smack, pausing only to wipe the excess from his lips with the back of his hand. His eyes, like glacial ice, turned to the swell of Torki’s belly. The tender buds which crowned that maternal hill leaked their precious milk, seeping into the russet fur to make damp the wolf’s gravid belly. Holdan let his muzzle fall, to run his snout through the wet fur, inhaling the aroma of stale sweat and the fresh sweetness of Torki’s milk. His lips traveled the expanse of the wolf’s fur, rising up the slope of his belly, to come to that distended hump that was Torki’s navel. Upon that quaking hill, his tongue would slide free from his jaws, rustling gently in the reddish-brown weave. The taste of his love was enthralling, how he yearned to savor the musky aroma, the tang of sweat and the sweet spice of Torki’s flowing honey. 

Holdan took hold of the wolf, his hand sliding along a ripe hip, finding the pleasing roundness of the wobbling globes of Torki’s fat rump. Made soft by his maternal padding, the russet wolf’s ass was still sticky with the cooling seed of their previous lovemaking. Holdan wasted no time in clambering fully onto the slab, his heart racing as he dipped his questing fingers between those flabby cheeks. Torki moaned softly, turning himself onto his side so as to allow Holdan to fully explore the damp caverns of his jiggling rump. The puckering ring, puffy with the wolf’s desire, enticing Holdan, drawing him to trace a clawed finger along the gaping flesh, to probe that opening bloom as if it were a spring flower just opening to the morning sun. Torki shuddered, grasping the side of the slab, his black mouth turning into an O of carnal elation as Holdan’s fingers entered him with a wet squelch. 

“Oh, yes,” gasped Torki. “My love, please, more.”

The warmth of Torki’s nectar flowed over his fingers, leaking from the opening anus to trickle into his palm as Holdan pushed deeper. His claws caressed the trembling prostate, gingerly coaxing the quivering gland to spur his love into full, throbbing erection. Torki’s manhood pulsed beneath his pregnant belly, swelling so proudly into the ruby rod which wept its shimmering precum. Slowly, Holdan pulled back, turning his love onto his back so that crimson lance did stand before his flaring nostrils. The damp, musky smell of Torki’s pubic fur wafted into his nose, setting every nerve on fire as Holdan would seize that shivering rod. Torki let out a gasp as hard fingers closed around his member, followed by the hot, wet lips which came to press against his tip. The wolf’s ears pricked up, his amber eyes ablaze as Holdan’s mouth glided down his plump undershaft. The grey wolf’s kisses carried him to the quivering knot which swelled above Torki’s sheath. The bundle of muscular flesh brought Holdan’s lips to meet in a kiss which made Torki howl. His balls churned, growing fat with fresh seed as Holdan began to ascend, coming to wrap his lips around the weeping tip. 

“O-Oh, Holdan,” sobbed Torki. “Oh, you wouldn’t.”

The grey wolf said nothing, his mouth closing around Torki’s rod. The wolf plummeted, sliding down Torki’s shaft, his lips meeting that firm knot. His tongue slithered along the crimson flesh, licking the salty tang of Torki’s sweat, of the bitterness of his shimmering precum. Holdan’s nose plunged into the damp tangle of his lover’s fur, inhaling the fragrant aroma of that russet jungle. Holdan then rose, his lips closing hard, suckling the flesh of his love as he came to the rosy tip. His tongue circled, caressing the gaping urethra which flowed unceasing with its sticky nectar. Holdan’s hands were no less busy, for his fingers had once more slid deep, finding the swollen nub that was Torki’s prostate. Gently, he would push, circling, probing, eliciting a squeal from his mate as Torki, in the throes of his ecstasy, flung out both hands to grasp the edges of the stone slab. 

His robe was cold and damp beneath him, his back arching as he let forth a wailing cry of jubilation. “Yes, my love,” he screamed to the night wind. “O-Oh, yes.”

Tears stung at his amber eyes, streaming down his fur as he shrieked with giddy exultation. Meanwhile, Holdan was plummeting once again, his mouth filling with the red, throbbing meat of his love. His tongue slid along the fat veins which pumped their hot blood, pulsating rhythmically between his jaws as he sought to bring his love to the heights of screaming ecstasy. His fingers pulled back and Torki’s body would respond, closing around him, sucking those digits back into himself. Holdan closed his lips hard, not releasing, but suckling deep. The churning orbs which were Torki’s balls began to shiver, preparing to unleash their virile torrent should Holdan not relinquish his hold. But the grey wolf refused, drawing himself lower until his lips met that firm knot. His tongue caressed Torki’s shaft, stirring the first hot string of the russet wolf’s semen. 

“Holdan,” Torki gasped. His claws came to his mouth, his eyes misting with tears. “Oh, you haven’t done this since our wedding night.”

Holdan rose, closing around Torki as the wolf’s cock erupted. Hot seed filled his mouth, his cheeks bloating as he swallowed the sticky wad. The bitter tang of his lover’s seed drove him wild. His heart pounded in his throat, his lungs felt as if he were breathing hot iron, yet Holdan could not pluck his lips free of that ruby shaft until Torki’s last ropy strand had spurted into his maw. A trickle of white slime slipped from the corner of his mouth, oozing down his chin as he plucked his lips from the softening shaft. Torki whimpered, rolling onto his side, giving himself to his love. Holdan rose, licking the sticky fluid from his stained lips, his cock throbbing majestically between his powerful legs. Like the conquering king, his manhood stood tall, its shadow falling over Torki’s bloated womb, his belly roiling with the kicks of new life as the wolf cast a sideways glance at his love.

“My love,” he said. “You have so utterly dominated me. Like the clay, I have been molded, shaped by you.” He ran a hand along the swell of his pregnant belly, curving up the rise of his round hip. “Before the eyes of our ancestors, my love, my husband, I want you to finish this. I want you to make me complete.”

Holdan swallowed back the tightness which constricted his throat. Seeing his lover before him, supplicating to him, he felt a sense of awe which he had not known before. Torki’s fur glimmered in the silver of the moonlight, almost luminescent with its own radiance. His love was no longer the mere wolf, but something approaching divine as he stooped, hooking a corded arm under Torki’s leg and raising it up over his shoulder. His throbbing cock wept its bitter tears, so ready was Holdan that his hot seed would already flow, dribbling like molten wax to rain in fat, white globs upon Torki’s inner thigh. With each searing droplet, the rust wolf would tremble, his flower blooming wide, ready to take his lover into himself. The wet squelch of flowing essence and the bitter tang of semen would fill the night air. The howls of the wolves formed a chorus to that primal rhythm. Holdan’s belly clenched as he began to thrust. His hips bucked, his cock penetrating deep. Like a fiery spear, his manhood crashed into Torki’s quivering prostate, stabbing that trembling gland to make the shimmering precum spurt from the wolf’s flaccid member. Torki shrieked, his claws digging into the raw stone as Holdan began to pull back. 

Sensing his lover’s movements, Torki’s body closed around Holdan’s rod, stroking the ruby flesh to make the grey wolf groan. Like so many fingers around his manhood, Torki’s smooth, pink walls would entrap him, drawing back down into that wet, alien world. His lover would guide him, bringing him to Torki’s very core. The grey wolf thrust, circling so as to lift Torki’s hips from the stone. His cock would crash the gates of Torki’s womb, shattering that fragile bastion. The russet wolf wept his elation, his sobs an echoing chorus to the deep, swinish grunts which rose from Holdan’s throat. The grey wolf’s jaws foamed, his ping tongue lolling as he slammed his pubic bone into Torki’s wobbling ass. The wet, raw slap of fresh meat ran out against the silent monoliths around them, their faces passive as the wolves would commence their furious battle. 

Holdan let Torki’s leg fall from his shoulder, his member plucking free from the bruised petals of Torki’s anus. The russet wolf would turn, his gravid belly dangling to rest upon the stone as he heaved his heavy body up onto his hands and knees. His juggling rump, the flesh dimpled beneath the sway of his reddish-brown fur, swelled before Holdan. The wobbling cheeks parted, revealing the gaping bloom of Torki’s glistening anus. The shivering ring was slick and ready, trickling with the white ooze of Holdan’s semen, mingling with the sweet elixir of the wolf’s honey. Holdan placed his hands on Torki’s hips, his cock coming to press against his lover’s ring. 

“Like we did that first time,” said Torki. “I want you to take me from behind. Make it hurt like that blessed night, my love.”

Holdan bucked his hips, his cock stretching that slick flesh. Torki winced, feeling the pain as his belly became filled with Holdan’s quivering meat. His sagging stomach expanded, bloating as the grey wolf thrust, pushing deep to crash into the shuddering gates of Torki’s womb. Holdan circled his hips, pulling back, his cock rubbing against the trembling walls of Torki’s rectum. The russet wolf whimpered, his arms quaking as he struggled not to collapse in utter bliss. His ears drooped, his head swimming on that giddy sea as Holdan came back in, plunging deep, at last opening the stubborn entrance of his lover’s fecund womb. The grey wolf fell atop Torki’s back, his breath hot in the russet wolf’s ear. 

“So as we did on that single night,” Holdan whispered. “So we shall, before our ancestors, consummate our love.”

His arm wrapped around the barrel that was Torki’s body, his fingers spreading through the fur of the wolf’s belly. Faster, he bucked, crashing harder into his love. The pair rocked atop that stone, the menhirs of their ancestors watching, judging as Holdan would feel the familiar tickle. His balls, bloated with fresh seed, were ready to burst like ripe fruits. His cock would spurt a ropy strand, painting Torki’s womb as he took hold of the russet wolf. 

“My love,” Holdan said in a low growl. “I fear that our time grows short. I cannot last much longer.”

“Then, release,” said Torki. “Give me your love, Holdan. I wish for it so.”

Holdan buried his snout into Torki’s fur, drinking in the heady scent of stale sweat and the aroma of his love. His cock pulsed, then erupted, spurting its potent seed deep to flood the russet wolf’s womb. Eagerly, Torki’s womb would lap that virile semen, his belly swelling against Holdan’s palm as he would grow ripe with fresh expansion. His bloated stomach sagged to the stone, swelling outwards as Holdan would thrust, pumping another ropy strand into his love. Their cries mingled in the night air, a song of primal lust which resounded across that empty plain. The moonlight bathed them, swaddling the heaving, panting fingers in its liquid radiance. Torki’s belly, so full of his lover’s essence, alas could no longer hold back that virile torrent. His battered flower trembled, letting forth the sloshing gush of Holdan’s semen to run down his inner thigh and seep into the fur of his leg. The grey wolf placed his palms on the stone and pulled back, plucking his softening member from his love, a string of loose seed clinging between them, connecting them both for all time. 

Holdan laid beside his love, taking Torki into his arms. Their bodies glistened with the afterglow as they turned their eyes up to the silent sentinels which were those standing stones. 

“Did they see us, I wonder?” Torki’s belly wobbled as he looked up. “Do they bless us, Holdan?”

A single mote of light glimmered from the darkness, followed by another and then another. Like fairies, they floated on the night air, dancing and swirling, buoyed on the chill breeze. 

Holdan watched the display, his eyes narrowing. “It’s not the season for fireflies,” he said. “What are they?”

One tiny speck, a glimmering ember in the night, came to hover over Torki’s belly. Silent as a ghost, it would come to rest upon the wolf’s gravid stomach. The flickering mote glittered, flashing in the tangle of Torki’s fur. Its pale light then flowed, spreading across Torki’s belly. The pair watched, dumbfounded, as more of the glimmering specks came to land on the russet wolf’s swollen abdomen. Their light pooled across Torki’s belly, his abdomen glowing like an orb of crystal. 

“I-I feel them,” Torki said. “I feel them, Holdan. They are blessing us.” His hands came to his muzzle. “Oh, Holdan.” 

Tears streamed from Torki’s eyes and Holdan drew his weeping mate to his chest. There, Torki would bury his face into the grey fur, his shoulders shaking as his belly continued to glow with that magical light. 

“Thank you, my love,” Torki whispered. “For all of this.”

Placing his hand on his mate’s belly, Holdan said, “I should thank you, Torki. For this could not have happened had we not first made love so long ago in that cold tent.”

“Yes, Holdan,” Torki replied. “It was fated that we would come together. The ancestors have blessed us. Let none say that our love is not genuine.” He lifted his face from Holdan’s chest. “Now, love, it is late and I would like us both to be in bed.”

“Aye,” replied the grey wolf. “So that we might resume our battle for a third time, no doubt.”

Torki’s lips broadened into a grin. “Is your sword still sharp?”

“My blade is always ready,” roared Holdan. The grey wolf was on his feet in an instant, cradling Torki in his arms. “Come, my love. Before the eyes of our ancestors, we march for home.” To the standing stones above, he cried, “And blessings to you, ancient ones, for from our love shall spring forth a new line of wolves. Ones who shall bring honor to your names.”

With Torki in his arms, the wolf stalked across the dew soaked plain. The moon cast its silver light upon the swaying grass, illuminating their path as the pair made for home.