“Well,” she drawled, amused as fuck, “ain’t this some shit.”
We froze mid‑kiss. Cocks still in each other’s paws. Her panties mashed against our faces like incriminating evidence.
Callie stood at the bottom of the stairs, tennis skirt still on, towel slung over her shoulder, eyebrow cocked. Not angry. Not shocked. Just… entertained. Like she’d walked in halfway through an episode and instantly clocked the plot.
Owen panicked first. Of course he did.
“Callie—gods—this isn’t—” He dropped his hands, went pale, started scrambling for words like they might save him.
“Shh.” One finger up. Sharp. Commanding. He shut up immediately.
Her eyes slid past him and locked onto me.
Slow. Appraising. Predator’s gaze.
“You like the smell of my twat?” she asked, casual as asking the time.
No point lying. My cock was still hard as fuck and my mouth tasted like her knickers. I just nodded.
Her lips curled. “Thought so.”
She hooked her thumbs into the waistband of her tennis skirt and hiked it up in one smooth motion. No panties. None. Just a gleaming, flushed pussy already darkened from sweat, lips full and sticky, still shiny from the match. Heat rolled off her.
“Then get over here,” she said. “Sniff it straight from the source.”
Didn’t need telling twice.
I dropped to my knees and buried my snout right into her lupine snatch, deep as I could get it. Fuck—she smelled unreal. Sweat and cunt and something sharp and alive underneath, like ozone after a storm. Athlete’s musk. Power. Heaven.
I started eating her out immediately. No finesse. Just slobbering and hungry, tongue flattening against her lips, licking her open, flicking her fat clit until it jumped. I sucked it like a little cock, lips sealing round it, tongue working hard. She laughed once—high and breathless—then yelped and grabbed my head.
“Fuck—yeah—do it proper,” she gasped, fingers threading into my fur, thighs clamping in around my ears. “Don’t tease me. Eat it.”
So I did.
I worked her like I meant it. Tongue deep, messy, relentless. Nose slick with her, mouth soaked, chin dripping. She rocked against my face, barking little laughs that turned into sharp cries, hips rolling as she rode my snout. Every time I sucked her clit she jerked and swore, nails digging into my scalp.
Above me, I heard Owen breathing like he was about to pass out.
And I ate his wife out anyway.
Right there.
In front of him.
Owen stood there stunned, barely comprehending what was happening, like his brain had blue‑screened. His mouth opened once. Closed. Then finally, in a voice all cracked and pathetic, he croaked out, “Callie?”
She didn’t even look at him at first—just let out this little sigh like he was being slow on purpose. Then she turned to him and said, smooth as butter, “You wanna be a good little poof? Be a dear and suck our guest’s dick while he pleasures my cunny.”
He froze. Gulped. “I’m not—”
She snapped her head around so fast it made him flinch. “Oh please. I’m well aware of the wolf I married. I clocked you as bi years ago, babe. Now get on your knees and suck the dick you’ve been dying to taste since uni.”
His ears flattened. Shoulders tensed. Eyes wide like a schoolboy caught wanking in the loos.
And still… he didn’t move.
So she reached down, grabbed a fistful of my fur, and pulled my face out of her dripping snatch. Her pussy glistened in the light, lips puffy and flushed, practically winking. My muzzle was soaked, drool and cunt juice mixing in thick strands across my chin.
She looked me dead in the eye. “You mind if my bicurious husband polishes your knob?”
I panted for a second, trying to catch my fuckin’ breath. Glanced over at Owen.
He looked at me like he wanted to apologise. Like he wanted to cry. Like he wanted to swallow me whole. His gaze dropped—couldn’t help it. Landed square on my cock, red and throbbing, still slick from pre and arousal.
I laughed, deep and dirty. “No, Callie. I don’t fuckin’ mind.” I smirked at Owen. “Come suck me off while I feast on your wife’s sweet, sweet pussy.”
And fuck me—his tail wagged. Swear on all the gods. That posh, buttoned‑up bastard wagged like a mutt offered a treat.
Didn’t even try to hide it.
I dove back between Callie’s thighs, burying my muzzle into that steaming cunt like it held the secrets of the universe. She was pouring now, hips grinding into my tongue, juices gushing out in waves. Her folds were puffy, lips thick and needy, and the taste—fuck—the taste was rich and tangy and addictive. My shirt was soaked. My fur was clinging to me in patches. Didn’t care. Would’ve drowned in that pussy.
Then I felt it.
A warm, wet tongue sliding up my cock. Base to tip. Slow. Almost reverent.
I groaned into Callie’s cunt.
Then came the heat—his mouth, enveloping the tip. Moist, tight, uncertain at first but determined. He wrapped his lips around me and sucked, tongue lapping under the ridge, hands bracing against my thighs like he was steadying himself for something holy.
And I just shuddered.
Grunting into his wife’s gash while her husband sucked my fuckin’ cock.
I’ll be honest—I was losin’ myself in the moment. Owen might’ve started off all shaky and hesitant, but once his lips wrapped round my cock proper, the fucker turned into a right natural. Sure, he gagged here and there. Yeah, his fangs scraped me once—made me hiss through my teeth—but fuck, that mutt was eager. Sloppy little thing. Tongue workin’ like he’d been training for this moment since fresher year. He was gaggin’ and slobberin’ and makin’ all these filthy little moans every time my cock hit the back of his throat.
He got bold. Started goin’ deeper. Getting fuckin’ hungry.
Balls tight, hips twitchin’—I was gettin’ close. Too close. I grabbed his head and pulled him off with a wet pop, pantin’, cock glistening and still twitchin’. He looked up at me like a pup who just had his favourite toy nicked. All wide-eyed and breathless, lips shiny, fur damp with spit.
“Need a minute,” I grunted, trying not to blow right there on the fuckin’ floor.
Callie, still standin’ over us like a fuckin’ goddess of sin, stretched her arms overhead and cracked her neck like this was just the warm-up. “Let’s change venues, boys.”
Next thing I knew, we were upstairs in their bedroom. Clean. Sparse. Big bed with crisp white sheets and the faint lingering scent of perfume and old sweat.
She stripped. Slow. Casual. Like she wasn’t just about to let her husband watch her get railed by his best mate. Tossed her sports bra aside. Stood there proud—lean muscle, perky tits, thick thighs. Powerful bitch. Pure alpha.
Then she climbed onto the bed, lay back, legs spread, tits on full display, and grinned.
“Fuck me,” she said. “Fuck me while Owen rims your arsehole.”
I blinked.
Now—I’m open-minded, right? Done some weird shit in my time. Had a few odd licks and pokes from partners before. But nothin’ serious. No one had ever offered to tongue my fuckin’ hole while I was balls-deep in their missus. Didn’t exactly know how I felt about it.
But then I looked at Owen.
That mutt was waggin’ again. Practically vibratin’. His cock was still hard. He looked at me like I was a sacred offering, eyes locked on my arse like it was a five-star dinner.
“Yeah,” he said, already climbin’ up behind me. “Fuck my wife—and I’ll eat you out.”
I shrugged.
“Fuck it.”
And I mounted her.
Callie wrapped her legs around my waist, cunt hot and soaked, welcoming me in with no resistance. She groaned as I slid into her, claws diggin’ into the sheets. Tight. Wet. Soaked.
And behind me, I felt Owen’s paws spread me open.
I plunged into her, balls slappin’ against slick fur, hips already pistoning before I’d even settled in. Callie arched beneath me, tits jiggling with every thrust, mouth open, already moaning like a bitch in heat.
“Fuck, yes—just like that,” she growled, diggin’ her claws into my back. “Give it to me, stud.”
I grunted, slamming into her harder, her soaked cunt squelching with every stroke, juices bubbling out around my cock like she was beggin’ to be stuffed. The bed creaked, headboard knockin’ against the wall, but I didn’t give a fuck.
Then I felt Owen behind me.
His paws spread my arse again—wider this time. A second later, his tongue dragged a long, hot stripe from my taint to my hole, slow and deliberate. I shuddered. Nearly lost rhythm.
“Fucking hell,” I gasped.
He didn’t stop. He dug in.
Started eatin’ my arse like it was his first fuckin’ meal. Sloppy. Hungry. Tongue pushin’ past my ring, lickin’ and writhin’ like he was tryin’ to make me cum with his fuckin’ mouth alone.
“Holy shit, Owen—”
I never expected to enjoy it. But gods, it was good. Better than it had any right to be. Made every thrust into Callie feel deeper, slicker, more desperate.
Every time Owen’s tongue passed over my hole, my hips jolted forward like my body was chasin’ the sensation. I was fucking her harder now, balls slappin’ wet against her messy cunt, thick squelches fillin’ the room like we were stuck in a fuckin’ sauna of filth. The scent was overwhelming—her cunt, his spit, my own musk rollin’ off me in waves. The bed reeked of raw sex and wolf funk.
She was makin’ noise, too. Gods, she was loud.
Moanin’, swearing, talkin’ filth between gasps.
“Fuck me—deeper—don’t hold back,” she groaned. “Make me feel that dick in my throat, stud—wreck me.”
I grabbed her by the hips and rolled my weight forward, slamming into her with every ounce of force I had. Her cunt squelched around me like a suction cup, clingin’ tight, gushin’ down my red shaft. I could feel her arse bouncin’ against me with each impact, wet fur smackin’ against my thighs.
Owen pressed his snout in deeper, muzzle buried between my cheeks now, licking like he meant it—circlin’ my hole, tongue pushin’ past it, spreading me with wet slurps that sent bolts of pleasure shootin’ up my spine. Every time I growled or bucked, he moaned behind me, tail thumping madly against the edge of the bed.
Callie craned her head to watch us, panting through a wicked grin.
“Look at you two,” she gasped. “My husband’s tongue in your arse, my cunt stretched round your cock. You dirty fucking mutts.”
I slammed into her harder.
“Yeah, that’s it. Ruin me. I wanna feel it tomorrow—hell, all week. Pound that pussy, make it yours.”
I growled deep in my chest, grabbed her ankle, shoved her leg over my shoulder and drove in deep—cock punching through her soaked folds, hips grinding over her g-spot, makin’ her howl like ashe was gettin’ exorcised.
Owen didn’t stop. If anything, he got more intense. Licking deeper. Tongue fucked my hole like it was her cunt, nosing under my tail and groaning like he was gonna get off from it. I felt his breath, his spit, his fuckin’ devotion back there. Bastard was moaning around my rim like it was somethin’ holy.
The whole room sounded like sin. Skin slapping. Wet mouths. Deep snarls. My panting. Her begging. Owen’s soft whimpers as he tongued my arse like it was dessert.
And fuck… I loved it.
She was pantin’ beneath me, whimperin’ every time I bottomed out. “Breed me, you filthy mutt,” she moaned, voice all breathless and cracked. “Put some pups in my puss. Fill my womb with that thick fuckin’ seed.”
My knot started swellin’.
Could feel it, thick and hard at the base, throbbin’ every time I slammed home. She wrapped her legs tighter around my waist, locked her ankles behind me, and started grinding against me like she needed every inch.
“Come on, baby,” she begged. “Knot me. Breed me. Fuck your best mate’s wife full of cum.”
And that was it.
My hips snapped one final time. Knot popped inside, locking tight with a wet, squelching pop. She screamed, back arching, cunt clenching so hard it almost pushed me back out. But I was locked. Sealed.
And then the dam broke.
I howled—snout buried in her neck, cock throbbing, shooting thick, hot ropes straight into her cunt. She gasped and moaned, grabbing at me, muttering, “That’s it, fuck yes, give it to me, fill me up—fuck yes—breed me like a bitch.”
I swear I pumped enough to knock her up three times over.
Behind me, Owen was still lappin’ at my hole like he wanted to drink every drop I’d just blown. Tail wagging. Hard cock untouched. Livin’ his best perverted fuckin’ life.
And there we were.
One sweaty, tangled pile of fur, cum, and filthy secrets.