Reach out blindly for more wolves — you want hands, mouths, cocks on every part of you while you're locked on Decker's knot

5 Breedmore Lane, Maplewood Suburbs, at 1:13 AM on Saturday November 1, 2024

My hands claw blindly at the air, reaching, grasping — I need more, need skin and heat and mouths and cocks on every inch of me while Decker's knot holds me pinned like a butterfly on a board. The orgasm hasn't finished — it's still rolling through me in waves, my pussy clenching rhythmically around the massive bulge locked inside me, and each contraction sends fresh jolts of electricity through my ghost-cum-sensitized nerves.

Hands find mine immediately. Someone — Gideon, the scarred one — presses my palm flat against his chest, then drags it down over ridged abdominals to his cock, wrapping my fingers around eight and a half inches of burning wolf flesh. I stroke him desperately, my grip weak and trembling, but he groans like I'm doing something incredible.

"She's begging for it," Jax announces, and then his mouth is on my left breast — not gentle, not teasing. He bites down on my nipple with those elongated canines, the sharp points dimpling the sensitive flesh, and the pain-pleasure rockets through me so hard my back arches off the couch. His tongue circles the trapped peak, hot and rough, while his clawed hand squeezes the small mound of my breast almost bruisingly hard.

Soren mirrors him on my right — the tall blonde's mouth closing over my other nipple, sucking it between his teeth, pulling until the skin stretches taut. Two mouths on my tits, Decker's knot locked inside my cunt, Rafe's curved cock still buried in my throat — I'm a feast being devoured from every direction.

Rafe pulls back enough to let me gasp a breath, then thrusts forward again, his curved shaft sliding into my throat with that perfect anatomical fit. "Mira, conejita," he pants, his hips rolling in a lazy rhythm. "Your little throat was made for wolf cock. You feel that curve hitting the back? That's where I'm gonna pump you full, but not yet — not yet."

Decker hasn't moved. He doesn't need to. His knot is doing all the work — swelling incrementally inside me, each pulse of growth stretching my walls further, pressing against nerve endings I didn't know existed. I can feel his cock throbbing deep against my cervix, pre-cum leaking directly into my womb in scalding-hot spurts. The heat is extraordinary — like being filled with liquid metal that somehow feels good, the ghost-cum amplification transmuting what should be unbearable into something that makes my toes curl inside my boots.

Someone's hands — Koda's, I realize, as I glimpse quiet amber eyes and dark copper skin — find my thighs and spread them wider, exposing where Decker's knot is sealed inside me. His thick fingers trace the stretched rim of my pussy, the skin pulled drum-tight around the shaft, cum and arousal frothing around the seal.

"Tight as a drum," Koda murmurs, his voice low and measured. "She's not going anywhere for a while."

Then his mouth descends — not on my pussy, but lower. His tongue drags across my perineum, hot and wet, circling my asshole with deliberate pressure. The sensation makes me scream around Rafe's cock — a muffled, gurgling shriek — because the ghost-cum has made every hole on my body an erogenous zone and Koda's tongue on my rim feels like someone licking my clit from the inside out.

Fenris appears at my side, his red beard soaked with my fluids from earlier. He grabs my free hand — the one not stroking Gideon — and wraps it around his eight inches, then leans down to whisper in my ear: "You've got seven loads swimming in that belly already, bunny. By the time we're done, you'll be a cum balloon. Eight wolves. Eight knots. Eight loads pumped straight into your womb. You're gonna be dripping for days."

Decker's cock pulses inside me — a massive, throbbing contraction — and I feel the first surge of his orgasm beginning. The knot swells, impossibly larger, and his claws dig into my hips as a growl builds in his chest that shakes the couch beneath us.

"Here it comes," Trent says, watching with hungry amber eyes. "First knot-load of the night."

The heat hits me like a furnace door opening. Decker's cum — hotter than anything human, hotter than the ghosts even — erupts against my cervix in thick, pressurized spurts. Each pulse is distinct, each one flooding my already-full channel with scalding wolf seed. I can feel my belly distending further, the volume too much for my small frame, cum being forced back around his knot in white streams that drip down my thighs.