Werewolf

He lifted me effortlessly, and as he did, a wave of surrender washed over me, the dampness from his skin seeping into my clothes. Gently, he laid me down upon the bed, parting my legs with a practiced ease. His hardened cock pressed against my stomach, my body responding with an inescapable heat, every fiber alight with a primal yearning.
Deep within, a voice whispered to yield to him, to offer no resistance to the one who commanded me. To submit entirely, for if he sought to claim me, it was my role to acquiesce fully, to surrender without hesitation.
"Is this the moment?" My voice quivered with a mix of fear and longing.
"It's just a test," he murmured back, his voice a soothing balm. "Relax." His reassurance was a gentle command.
God, I didn't know what he meant by testing. I could not relax; instead I was tense.
His gaze held mine as he methodically undid the buttons of my dress, his

I was lying in bed, panting heavily, my chest undulating like a wave. He got out of bed and stood by the bed, and then quickly put on his pants. His crotch was still bulging.
“Do you need my help?” I asked.
“No, I can handle it myself,” He replied. He took off his shirt, revealing his thick chest hair covered in fine sweat, and his perfectly sculpted muscles glistening in the light.
He left the room topless, leaving me puzzled by his behavior. Curiosity drove me to follow him and see how he would satisfy his sexual needs. I wrapped the sheets around me and walked out of the room.
The sound of running water came from the bathroom, and I saw him coming out wrapped in a white bath towel. He passed me and took a bottle of whisky from the wine cabinet, pouring it into a glass with ice cubes and drinking it all at once. He seemed to be using alcohol to suppress the beast that was about to erup

Sunlight had crept across the room and danced upon my eyelids when I finally awoke, the clock hands pointing accusingly towards noon. I had to sneak back to my utility room. But when I opened the door, there stood Alpha Devon, looking like he had just finished a run, his black tracksuit slightly sticking to his toned body from sweat.
"Where are you going?" he asked, his deep voice firm and direct.
"I need to get back to work," I replied, my words barely more than a murmur as I moved aside to let him pass.
"You're not going anywhere," he declared, his tone brooking no argument. He peeled off his tracksuit top, revealing a torso that was nothing short of sculptural. Each muscle group was perfectly defined, from the broad expanse of his shoulders to the tightness of his abs, all exuding a raw, masculine energy.
"But Daisy might need me." I whispered, "She might need my help."
"I need a bath. You'll help." he said, more a command than a request. He then opened the fridge and took out a water bottle. As he drank, a single drop of sweat ran down his neck, over his Adam's apple, and disappeared into the defined muscles of his chest.
"Now," he said firmly.
"Yes, Master," I replied, my heart racing a bit.
As I brushed past Alpha Devon, I couldn't resist stealing another look. He was more robust than most men his age, his skin a captivating wheat color that seemed to highlight the strength and vitality of this body. Thinking of that made my legs weak.
I turned on the hot water in the bathroom, and soon the tub was filled with steaming water. After making sure the temperature was perfect, I was about to leave when I heard the sound of the bathroom door sliding open. Alpha Devon stood there, clad only in shorts.
"Master, the bathwater is ready," I stammered, my gaze awkwardly directed downward. "You can take your shower now."
He remained without words, shedding his underwear and casually tossing them into a nearby laundry basket. Then, he lowered his foot into the bathwater and settled into the tub with a composed self-assuredness.
I took a deep breath, my discomfort echoing in the tense atmosphere. Sharing a bathroom with a man and witnessing him disrobe was an entirely foreign situation for me. Swiftly departing seemed like the wisest choice. When I was about to leave...
"Did I allow you to leave?" his voice sliced through the air.
"May I... Could I assist you?" I stumbled over my words.
"Come here," he said, the authority in his voice unmistakable, "and give me a shoulder massage."
"Yes.." I made my way hesitantly toward the bathtub.
Back at training school, my teachers taught us how to relax our muscles after exercise. My partners and I used to give each other massages, but it was always among women.
This was the first time my hands had ever traced the contours of a man's form, and I could feel my pulse quicken with each sweep of my fingers over his skin. His shoulders were broad and firm under my touch, and I massaged them with the techniques I had been taught, trying to focus on the routine to calm my racing heart.
Why didn't he speak? Was he asleep? I peeped forward only to see his manhood rising high in the water, almost as thick as my forearm.
"Why did you stop?" He opened his eyes and looked straight at me.
I was startled. He must have thought I was spying on him. I blushed and kept my head down to continue the massage. But my fingers began to fail me, and the steam from the bathroom made my cheeks burn and my heart beat faster and faster.
"I'll get you a glass of water." I excused myself for a moment, but he caught me by the wrist.
"Stay here." He said.
I had no choice but to obey, trying to control my trembling hands. He did not speak, but stared at me. Without warning, his hand slipped up my skirt. I almost screamed.
"Master, please don't." I resisted and tried to move away.
"Don't move." He commanded.
I pursed my lips, unsure how to respond. His hands continued to explore, reaching under my dress. I could feel his fingers making their way through my panties into the intimate territory between my legs.
I gasped nervously, my tongue tingling.
"Master, master, no, ... no..."
"Is this the first time you've been touched by a man?" " he asked, without stopping his hand.
"Yes.." I'm mortified.
He caught my hand suddenly, guiding it into the water. My fingers brushed against something hard, electricity rippling through me. I started to pull back, but his grip was firm, unyielding, keeping my hand in place as I became acutely aware of his arousal.
"Do you like it?" he teased, his voice dripping with a mix of desire and playfulness.
Lost for words, I was so ashamed. His cock is burning hot. My body tingled from the contact. It was the first time I had ever felt this way about a man. This feeling was unfamiliar—this intense desire for a man—and it was overwhelming, undeniable.
I confess I wanted him too.
"Answer me, girl."
A breath, a pause, then a quiet "Yes..." escaped me, my lip caught nervously between my teeth.
A command came in response. "You'll get your wish." His voice was low and certain. "Now, get on your knees."
I knelt obediently between his legs, and as I looked up at him my vision seemed to be enveloped in a haze. His perfect, face loomed through the haze, and how I wanted to reach out and touch his face, to wrap my legs around his waist and scream in his ear.
Jesus, what the hell is wrong with me? Why do I have all these visions of him in my head, all these horrible, obscene images?
I was really turning into a bad girl.
"Look at me, girl." His hand caressed my face, then he parted my mouth with his thumb.
"Tell me, do you like it?"
"Yes, Master."
"Take it in your mouth and lick it with your tongue." he said, putting his hand to my mouth.
I took his finger in my mouth and licked it like it was a lollipop.
"Good girl." He smiled contentedly and reached for his second finger. Two of his fingers began to slide up and down my mouth.
"Wrap them as tight as you can." He said.
My mouth worked hard on his two fingers as he pushed them deeper into my throat, pumping them back and forth, from fast to slow.
He ignored the whine that came from my mouth, and I could feel the two fingers of his mouth reaching down the back of my throat and making me retch.
My throat was free when he finally pulled two wet fingers from my mouth.
"You did good, girl." He cupped my face in his hands and stared into my eyes, "Now I want to shove my cock in your mouth so badly, but I can't waste my seeds, they should shoot into your warm womb and germinate."
My eyes misted over him, the dim yellow light on his strong muscles was so sensual.
"Tell me, do you want it over?" Desire flared in his emerald eyes.
I gawked at him. I did not know how to reply to him. There was a rush of warmth between my legs, as if it would burst forth the moment I opened one. I knew my body wanted to move on, but if I did, would he think I was a slut?
"If you want to continue, I will." His tone was teasing, "Honestly, girl."
"Yes.."

He lifted me effortlessly, and as he did, a wave of surrender washed over me, the dampness from his skin seeping into my clothes. Gently, he laid me down upon the bed, parting my legs with a practiced ease. His hardened cock pressed against my stomach, my body responding with an inescapable heat, every fiber alight with a primal yearning.
Deep within, a voice whispered to yield to him, to offer no resistance to the one who commanded me. To submit entirely, for if he sought to claim me, it was my role to acquiesce fully, to surrender without hesitation.
"Is this the moment?" My voice quivered with a mix of fear and longing.
"It's just a test," he murmured back, his voice a soothing balm. "Relax." His reassurance was a gentle command.
God, I didn't know what he meant by testing. I could not relax; instead I was tense.
His gaze held mine as he methodically undid the buttons of my dress, his touch light against the fabric. His hands then traced a path to my purple bra, treating the delicat

The First Touch