Some Punk Rock Werewolf Romance in the Oklahoma Sun

by Cyrus Meadows

  It broke too soon, though. And as Anthony pulled back to reposition himself, it was all Isaac could do not to follow his retreating lips. His wrists strained against the confining pressure of Anthony’s hands, and his whole body arched and twisted under Anthony, trying desperately to reignite the contact between them.

  “You like that, little wolf?” Anthony muttered, warm amusement doing little to hide the hunger in his own voice, before he ducked his head to nip lightly at the corner of Isaac’s jaw. To press a trail of hot, wet kisses down the throat that one month before, he’d driven his teeth into. He let his tongue dip languidly into the hollow of Isaac’s collarbone, and under these too, too gentle ministrations, Isaac thrashed like a wild beast. It wasn’t enough. Every touch too gentle, every bite too tender. The kisses were too brief, the touches too light. It was the first scent of a feast, when Isaac was starving to death. If his brain could have constructed words, then Isaac would have begged, but, mercifully, seeming to read his thoughts, Anthony finally released his wrists, and dropped his hands to tear open the ragged Queens of the Stone Age tee shirt covering Isaac’s slender frame.

  His own hands finally, gloriously free, Isaac renewed his attack on Anthonys suit, ripping the remaining fabric to reveal a body that was muscular and tanned. The kind of body that billionaires with personal trainers and long holidays in warm places are supposed to have. The kind of body that Isaac had never actually seen in person before. The gashes from Isaac’s nails across his chest were still open, smearing crimson across his flawless skin, and Isaac couldn’t help but bring his mouth to the ragged wounds. Both hands gripped Anthony’s shoulders, as his tongue traced a sharp red streak of pain over the other man’s skin, before he glanced back up to meet Anthony’s gaze, his eyes glassy, and hazed with lust.

  Anthony found his mouth again, pressing another hard, commanding kiss over Isaacs lips, tasting the copper heat of his own blood. He gripped Isaac’s waist with both hands, holding him in place as Anthony’s mouth roved lower. The fine graze of his teeth igniting a hot line down Isaac’s chest, before he reached the left nipple, and let his lips soften around it. Anthony lapped lightly over his nipple, tender and reverent at first, working it hard with gentle, suckling kisses, before finally closing his teeth around it to deliver a punishing bite. He released one hand from Isaac’s waist, and slid it down as he moved onto the next nipple, closing his mouth around it as Isaac threaded his fingers through Anthony’s hair, urgent and desperate for him to continue.

  With his free hand, Anthony worked open Isaac’s belt, and tugged it loose, before pushing under the waistband of his tight black jeans. The material was tight and unyeilding, and the immediate shudder that the touch earned him from Isaac was enough to let him know that the younger man was suffering. His erection trapped and compressed under a thick layer of denim, swollen and sensitive and completely helpless to Anthony’s touch. Pushing his fingers under the thin cotton of Isaac’s underwear, Anthony ran his fingers gingerly up Isaac’s shaft, feeling the size of his cock where it was imprisoned between his body and the fabric. He was rewarded by a tightening of the grip in his hair, and a high, longing keen of sound from the young man under him. Mercifully, Anthony released the tormented nipple from his mouth, shifting his weight instead, to keep Isaac’s legs pinned as he began to work down the younger man’s jeans. Once they were pushed safely down around Isaac’s knees, Anthony glanced back up to evaluate the state of his packmate.

  Isaac looked glorious, his neck and lips glowed red with bruises and love bites, his nipples were hard and still gleaming from the attentions of Anthony’s tongue and lips, and he was watching Anthony with heavily lidded eyes, expression a mask of pure, animal lust. The temptation to kiss him again was irresistible, so Anthony succumbed, dipping to press his tongue between Isaac’s soft, tormented lips, before he moved down again.

  He mouthed lightly over the waistband of Isaacs underwear, eliciting a low, animalistic groan from the smaller man, then pulled down the black cotton boxer shorts to finally release the throbbing erection confined within. He pressed his palm over the length of Isaac’s shaft, glancing up to see the younger man twist and groan in response to the touch. He could feel Isaac’s hips straining under his hands, trying to push up, to demand more contact between them

  “You like that, Isaac?”

  His voice was warm and hungry, and he smoothed his hand slowly up the length of Isaac’s cock once more, listening to the soft torrent of whimpers that it drew from the younger man.

  “Please— Please--”

  A flash of humanity, shining through the mindless haze of the full moon, and that was enough to sway Anthony on. He moved his hand back, to pin Isaac’s bony hip down to the floor, and lowered his head to nuzzle lightly against the base of the young punk’s cock, before opening his mouth to lap a hot, wet line, following a thick vein up the underside of his shaft. The reaction from Isaac was immediate and electric, his whole body spasming, and the slow, heady pleas for more became a babbling, constant brook of desperation,

  “Jesus, fuck, Eden, don’t stop— fuck, come on, please, please don’t stop--”

  Like music, hot and ragged and needy, even as Anthony finally took the head of Isaac’s cock into his mouth. It was at this point that Isaac’s hands, still tangled in his hair, and pressed beyond impatience, shoved Anthony’s head down to make him take the full length of his shaft into his mouth. Anthony choked, briefly, then recovered, and uttered a low growl of objection which reverberated agonizingly around Isaac’s cock. Isaac twisted, legs still trapped by denim and the weight of Anthony’s body bearing down on him, as the stronger man drew back, dragging his mouth tightly up Isaac’s prick with an agonizing slowness, before sinking down onto it again. Slowly, he built into a rhythm. One hand gripping the base of Isaac’s cock, he stroked and sucked with a tortuous, terrible, agonizing slowness, driving Isaac to the very edge of orgasm without ever giving him the force or the speed that he needed to tip over that edge and cum. Pushing him until he felt exhausted by his own lust, strung out and mindless on need.

  Then, infuriatingly, when Isaac was certain that he could take no more? Anthony stopped. Pulled off his cock with a soft, wet, slip of his lips, and left Isaac’s erection raging and cold from the sudden withdrawal of touch. The hand around the base of his cock squeezed tightly, staving off any hope of orgasm, and Isaac let out a sound that was more frustration than sex.

  “What the hell, Eden?”

  Language was back with Isaac, as if somehow, the long erotic torment that Anthony was subjecting him too was satisfying the animal cravings that the moon had drawn out of him. He shifted to get a better look at Anthony, where he was hovering, hesitantly over Isaac’s crotch, and it was clear just from just a glance that his own hunger remained unsatisfied. His gaze was heavy and unfocused, lust and hunger mingling in the golden, predatory gleam of his eyes. Isaac tugged his legs out from under Anthony, and kicked off his jeans the rest of the way, before pulling the other man forward, so that Anthony knelt between his legs.

  With a sudden certainty, Anthony scooped an arm under one of Isaac’s legs, pressing it up and back until his thigh was against his stomach, and his asshole was bared to the air. Isaac felt a burst of sudden, anxious fear in the pit of his stomach, but there was something else as well. A nervous, hungry thrill that came from being pinned under the other man, an anticipation of something he’d never wanted before. Something he’d never even thought to want. He felt something warm and damp spill over his anus, and then the firm pressure of Anthony’s hand, caressing his cock and balls, before smoothing down to rub, teasingly over his asshole, now slick with lubricant.

  “Relax,” That voice. Low and commanding and utterly irresistible, and Isaac felt every single muscle in his body slacken, just in time for Anthony to press one long, strong finger inside of him, smooth and slow.

  Isaac’s breath caught in his throat. The feeling of it, firm and full and almost painful was unlike anything he’d e
ver experienced before. It was easy enough to tell that Anthony had done this more than once in his day, but for Isaac? Beyond a few awkward drunken fumbles, hands and mouths in the bathrooms of bars? This was unbroken ground. Uncharted territory. Even in his weirdest, wildest fantasies, he’d never imagined that he’d be doing this one day. Certainly not with a man who’s clothes cost more than his apartment. Certainly not to stave off the urge to kill. Certainly not with someone as god damn gorgeous as Anthony Eden looked right now.

  Anthony drew his hand back and pressed in again with a second finger. Unconsciously, Isaac tensed, and suddenly it did hurt. It was too much, too hard, too full. Anthony’s fingers felt too deep in him, like there wasn’t enough space in his body for their presence.

  “I told you to relax.” Anthony muttered, his free hand rubbing lovingly up the underside of Isaac’s pinned leg, “Shh, come on now, let me in, and maybe I’ll let you cum.”

  The words alone were enough to make Isaac’s balls tighten, and as he adjusted to the full feeling of the other man’s fingers buried inside him, Anthony slowly began to move his hand again. Not withdrawing this time, but stretching and stroking inside of him. Isaac shuddered under the touch, body jolting as Anthony’s fingers found his prostate, sending a shockwave of electric heat right to his crotch, and dragging another wordless sound out of his throat.

  “Shh, nearly there now…” Anthony drew out his fingers again, and for the first time, Isaac felt the press of his cock, hard and hot against the tight crevice between his ass-cheeks, grinding against his cock and balls and smearing sweat and lube between their two bodies, until it was as slick and ready as his fingers had been.

  Anthony shifted, positioning himself so that he was fully on top of Isaac. One arm still holding his leg in place, while the other propped Anthony up, holding them face to face, close enough for him to study Isaac’s expression as he pressed the first, burning inch of his cock into the younger man’s asshole. Isaac’s head dropped back, fighting to relax around the thick, aching pressure of Anthony entering him, undone by lust and tension. His mouth dropped open, but before he could sigh or groan, Antony caught it with his own lips. Kissing him long and languidly as he slowly filled him up. Isaac shuddered around him, hands clutching at his shoulders, at his hair, grasping wildly for any purchase, as Anthony began to fuck him. As every steady, perfect thrust drove him further into mindless oblivion.

  Locked together at last, something seemed to finally release in Anthony. All careful ministrations and preparations done, his careful tension seemed to ebb away, replaced by the pure, barely restrained beast that was his hunger. His grip on Isaac’s leg tightened, his kisses grew hard and more urgent, and the tempo of his thrusts began to build until each one struck home like the beating of a war drum, driving Isaac’s whole body with them, and grinding his back hard into the carpet of the cashier’s booth. His cock pushing deeper and deeper into Isaac until every stroke was ramming hard into his sweet spot, sending pain and pleasure exploding behind his eyes, until he could take no more and he was moaning, mindless and wordless into Anthony’s mouth, lost in a sea of sensation, driven to the very brink of his endurance.

  Isaac came, hard and hot, ejaculate erupting in a hot, white geyser between their two bodies, coating himself in his own cum. Anthony thrust into him again, and again, and then stiffened over him, and Isaac felt the wet lava heat of his cum jetting out inside of him. For the briefest of moments, Isaac caught him unguarded. Anthony’s expression lost and vulnerable from pleasure, before all the strength seemed to run out of him, and he collapsed, damp and exhausted, against Isaac’s body.

  They lay together, wordless, in the long, warm afterglow of orgasm, and as awful as he knew it would be to wake up like this, sticky and intwined and super gross, in a few hours time. In that very moment, with Anthony’s cock still softening inside of him Isaac didn’t want to pull away. Didn’t want to think about what might happen in a few hours time. Didn’t want to think of anything but the warm, strong body pressed against his own, or the soft sound of the other man’s breathing, as it fanned across his skin.

  So he didn’t think. Didn’t move. Just let himself sink into the warm oblivion of sleep.

  —————-

  Isaac awoke to the sensation of something cool and soft running between his legs, and the sound of the weatherman chatting placidly away about the spring storms they could expect. His muscles ached. Body complaining not just from the vigorous activity of the previous night, but also from the pleasure of sleeping on the cramped floor of the convenience store cashier’s booth. He cracked open a single eye, and was rewarded by the sight of Anthony Eden, leaning over him, in an ill fitting black vest with the Nirvana logo on it.

  Actually, in Isaac’s ill fitting black vest with the Nirvana logo on it. But where on Isaac it hung off him, loose and ragged against his lean frame, on Anthony it was stretched over his fine musculature, outlining every chiseled inch of his peak physicality.

  Isaac wanted to resent how good it looked, but somehow he just couldn’t.

  “Good morning,” Anthony murmured, soft and calm, in his usual, lilting New England accent. He smoothed the damp, cleansing wipe that he was holding, up along the inside of Isaac’s thigh, and balled it up to toss it into the trash. Isaac’s fears of waking up soaked in cold, slowly drying cum had apparently been alleviated. He ran a careful hand over his stomach, to find that yes, Eden had done a pretty respectable job of cleaning him up while he slept.

  The small, CCTV monitor was tuned in to play through local news stories, and they slowly ran through the newsworthy events of the last night, but it didn’t distract Isaac from the strange tension in Anthony’s mannerisms. Like he was waiting for something. Anger or gratitude or shame, or something from Isaac to permit or condemn what happened between them.

  Noticing that Isaac had caught him staring, Anthony cleared his throat and glanced down, suddenly awkward, “How are you feeling, Isaac?”

  “We didn’t kill anyone.” Isaac reported, like this was a glorious, miraculous event. Then, after a short, contemplative pause, “And, we both got laid.”

  Another contemplative pause, as Anthony’s gaze flickered back up, his expression searching,

  “And,” Isaac added, as a third important point arose in his mind, “You don’t hate me!”

  That coaxed a warm, bubbling laugh of relief out of Eden, and he reached out to cup Isaac’s cheek, drawing him upright to press their foreheads together, warm and close.

  “Of course I don’t hate you.” He confirmed, “I— I seriously question your judgment a little, but I actually find you… quite charming.”

  “You’re cute.” Isaac confessed, “You’re a pain in the ass, but you’re cute.”

  “I’m glad you think so. Because you really are stuck with me.”

  Anthony’s hand slid down to Isaac’s chin, tilting his head back to press a warm, open mouthed kiss onto his lips.

  On the CCTV Monitor, a news reporter talked about a drunk driving incident in a neighboring town. He talked about a three car pile-up on the interstate. About a family friendly event being run at the local Dennys. He talked about the half dozen sheep that had been attacked on the Roman Family’s Farm the previous night. By wild dogs, maybe. Or coyotes. Maybe even wolves. But the reception was bad, and the reporter’s voice was tinny and small, and every part of Isaac’s attention was wrapped in the sight and scent and sense of Anthony Eden, who, in turn, was entirely focused on the very important task of commanding every last jealous drop of Isaac’s attention.

  Which is why neither of them realized then, that while Anthony had managed to go years without harming another human being? Years spent chasing down rabbits and controlling his instincts and managing his condition? Years without ever passing on the curse?

  Isaac, by contrast, hadn’t even made it a full month.

  br />