Every inch of him was licked, fur cleaned and straightened, even his long tail carefully loved. He growled softly -- it felt good and he wanted to reciprocate, to make Gareth feel good, too, but he was scared to, scared of that strange look in his mate's eyes.
He was nudged, rolled so Gareth could reach his belly. He stretched for Gareth, knowing he'd not do this for anyone else, ever. It kind of made him feel like a pup though, like Gareth was putting him in his place as much as loving on him.
That mouth ended on his throat, teeth close, Gareth just staying there. Breathing.
He barked softly. Yours.
Gareth nodded, the motion shaking his ruff.
He dared to lick at Gareth's ear, about all he could reach, but otherwise he just stayed where he was, quiet and obedient to Gareth. Gareth lifted his head and howled, the sound mournful, ringing through the trees.
He morphed, hands reaching up to slide into Gareth's fur. "Love you, Mate," he told Gareth, a shiver going down his spine.
Gareth's pelt became soft, smooth skin, the long arms holding him close. Whimpering, he pushed even closer, tilting his head for a kiss.
Gareth's kiss tasted of tears.
***
He woke from a nightmare of wind and rain and endless pain, the loss inside him huge. He howled when he leapt from the furs, eyes rolling, snapping at the air. The room smelled of heat and smoke and home and...
Sochar.
His Sochar.
His Sochar who came padding out from the kitchen. "Hey, Gareth." He was given a smile and strong fingers rubbed along the ruff of his neck. "Are you all right?"
He pushed into the touch. Oh. Home. Their own home. Yes.
Yes, he was all right.
Sochar dropped to his knees, both hands digging in now, rubbing and petting and scratching as Sochar rubbed his human nose along Gareth's muzzle. He relaxed, lapping and nuzzling Sochar's belly, cuddling. Oh. Good.
"So beautiful, Gareth. I've always loved your fur." The words warmed him, made him feel alive and sensual and fine. Sochar's fingers moved in longer strokes, sliding down along his back, his flanks. "I’m never letting you go again, Gareth. There's nowhere you can go that I won't follow you."
Gareth panted, stretched, the words a balm.
"Yeah, that's right, you heard me. You're stuck with me." Sochar smiled at him, eyes warm.
He licked Sochar's thigh, almost playful, eyes dancing. Promise?
He could see Sochar's surprise and pleasure and then his ves'tacha laughed softly. "Yes, Gareth. I promise. For always."
Always. He licked again, then nuzzled the soft sacs, feeling almost young.
Sochar gasped, legs spreading. "Oh, Gareth..."
He chuffed softly, licking again. Yes, ves'tacha.
Sochar's fingers curled into his fur, the moan that left his ves'tacha was sweet, wanton. The scent of passion surrounded him, strong and male and he licked more, nudging, nuzzling in. Sochar sat down suddenly, leaning back and spreading his legs.
He groaned, morphing, mouth open, tongue flicking out to taste. Sochar's fingers slid through his hair, thumb sliding along his lower lip. He sucked that thumb in, head bobbing, pulling and licking. Tasting Sochar.
"Oh, that feels... good." A low moan accompanied the words, Sochar shivering.
"Tastes good." He spread Sochar wider, tongue sliding down behind Sochar's sacs.
Sochar drew his legs back, offering himself.
His growl was deep.
Needy.
Desperate.
His mate. So fine.
"Please, Gareth. Yours." Sochar sounded desperate as well.
"Yes." He tilted Sochar's hips in his hands, tongue pressing against the little hole, tasting, the scent of male making him want to howl.
Sochar gasped and moaned, hands fisting into the blankets beneath him. He licked and lapped, pushing in, loving his mate. Moans and whimpers met every lick, every lap, his mate letting him know how good it felt. His fingers explored, his tongue stroked and pushed, adoring Sochar with all he was.
"Gareth. Oh, love, love." Sochar whined, hips moving, pushing into him.
Yes. Love. Always. His love. He growled, pushing harder.
"Please, oh. You're going to make me..." A shudder went through Sochar's body.
He shifted up, mounting Sochar with a cry, his cock sinking in deep. "Ves'tacha!"
"Yours!" Sochar's body welcomed him, drew him in and held him tight.
"Yes. Yes. Yours. Love." They rutted, happy howls and cries filling the air.
It wasn't long at all before Sochar's heat spread between them, his mate still pushing up into each thrust enthusiastically. He ducked his head, panting, growling low as his balls tightened.
"Mate. Mine." Sochar's mouth met his, hard and toothy and perfect.
He bucked, pushing in deep, emptying himself. "Yes! Ves'tacha!"
Arms hard around him, Sochar tugged him down. He cuddled in, panting, eyes rolling.
"I love you, Gareth." Sochar's fingers were warm, sliding over his skin.
"Love..." He nuzzled, lapping Sochar's throat.
"Yes. It feels good." Sochar undulated beneath him, neck stretched out for him.
"Yes." It felt more than good.
Sochar growled softly, the sound more a vibration against him than any real noise. He morphed, tail wagging, muzzle on Sochar's throat. Those long fingers slid into his fur again, Sochar petting, scratching, loving on him.
Oh. Oh, so good.
He panted, rolling over to show his belly. Laughing, Sochar followed, rubbing hard.
He stretched, legs moving restlessly. More.
Everything. Sochar's hands never stopped moving on him, giving him what he wanted, what he needed.
Love. Love. He yelped, wiggled, caught in the center of pure pleasure.
Sochar morphed suddenly, rubbing against him, mouth on his neck. He groaned, chin lifting, heart pounding. Sochar's teeth sank in, marking him. He groaned, eyes rolling, swallowing hard. Yes. Sochar's.
Sochar let go of his neck and then howled, the sound filling Gareth. His own howl joined Sochar's, twined with it.
The sound was theirs, something they made together. Something more than either of them alone.
Sochar's heat sprayed over him, coating him with Sochar's musk.
He groaned, panting, the scent filling the air. Sochar licked his muzzle, whining softly. He licked back, heart at ease.
Sochar settled on him, and he could feel the peace in his ves'tacha's soul.
Love. His own love.
His ves'tacha.
Contributors
Sara Bell
Sara Bell is a thirty-something freelance writer living in upstate Alabama with her sexy, baldheaded husband and two beautiful, exceptionally bright daughters. When not busy chugging away at the keyboard, Sara can be found burning cookies for school bake sales and logging time as the family taxi driver. To learn more about Sara and her work, or to contact her directly, please visit her discussion group at http://groups.yahoo.com/group/themagicinyourtouch/
Alex Draven
Librarian by day, storyteller by night, Alex Draven is addicted to language, music, love and all the stuff of fairytales.
Rob Knight
Writer, editor, animal lover and avid reader of erotic fiction, Rob was pleased to be asked to work with Torquere Press again, especially on the sequel to the popular Shifting which he edited for Torquere Press in 2003, once again giving him a chance to explore the strange and visceral, that animal magnetism. Rob enjoys travel, pets, bad B movies, and men kissing. He’s working on an upcoming anthology of his own work for Torquere Press: postcards or snapshots from older gay men.
Sean Michael
Often referred to as "Space Cowboy" and "Gangsta of Love" while still striving for the moniker of "Maurice," Sean Michael spends his days surfing, smutting, organizing his immense gourd collection and fantasizing about one day retiring on a small secluded island peopled entirely by horseshoe
crabs. A long-time writer of complicated haiku, currently Sean is attempting to learn the advanced arts of plate spinning and soap carving sex toys. Other than that? He'll stick with writing his stories, thanks, and rubbing pretty bodies together to see if they spark.
Pluto
http://www.thatdamncat.com/ch/
Lorne Rodman
Lorne Rodman's characters tend to reflect the wide array of personality traits possessed by the author; from shy and squeaky to bold and arrogant, they represent the best and worst of Lorne's life. Humor and hot sex are trademarks of Lorne's stories, as is pushing the envelope of what is proper and acceptable. Lorne's hobbies range from searching for the ultimate gay porn story to attempting needlework with his toes.
Julia Talbot
Julia Talbot resides in the Southwest of the United States with her dog, several houseplants, and has not quit her day job. She has a penchant for blank books, gay porn, and big, ugly hats. She can most often be found in coffee shops and restaurants, scribbling in her notebook and entertaining other diners with her mutterings. Julia cut her reading and writing teeth on purple-prosed romance novels, and as a result decided that boys were much more interesting with boys.
Intense study of her subject and as much firsthand research as possible figure heavily in her writing adventures.
BA Tortuga
B. A. Tortuga enjoys indulging in the shallow side of life, with hobbies that include collecting margarita recipes, hot tub dips, and ogling hot guys at the beach. A connoisseur of the perverse and esoteric, BA's days are spent among dusty tomes of ancient knowledge, or, conversely, surfing porn sites in the name of research. Mixing the natural born southern propensity for sarcasm and the environmental western straight-shooting sensibility, BA manages to produce mainstream fiction, literary erotica, and fine works of pure, unadulterated smut.
BA's latest projects include ongoing work on a novel set in the old west.
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