Wolf's Den - A BBW Shifter Romance Novel

by D. H. Cameron

  Dutch grunted and began to pull from me, but that wasn’t going to happen. I wrapped my legs around his waist and pulled Dutch back in. Dutch growled in satisfaction and his cock erupted within me. His hot orgasm filled my pussy as he grabbed my hips, his hands sinking into my indulgent flesh, and held his cock deep within me. I could only giggle and laugh as the sensations overwhelmed me. I felt Dutch spasm inside me and then he relaxed. His cum dripped from my pussy as he collapsed onto me and slipped his tongue into my mouth.

  I wrapped my body around his and held him as he stroked my hair. Suddenly, the badass, dominant biker held me tenderly. Dutch lay on top of me, our hot, sweaty bodies heaving as we fought to catch our breath. I’d never been so satisfied or felt as sexy as I did right then. Dutch had taken me along for a ride and what a ride it was. He nuzzled my neck as I basked in his attention.

  “That was fantastic, daddy,” I said. Dutch lifted his head and looked into my eyes.

  “That’s all you had to do. You just had to give yourself to me. As long as you let me have you like I want, I’ll give you everything you’ve ever wanted,” Dutch told me. I liked that, but I needed something from him.

  “Do you really think I’m sexy?” I asked. Dutch raised an eyebrow.

  “Shauna, don’t get me wrong, your body is fantastic. I love your curves. But that’s not why you’re sexy. You’re sexy inside. I saw it that first night. I told you I like a challenge. When I saw you sitting there in that bar I knew you didn’t belong there. I saw a light inside you that none of those other girls had and I was right. Yeah, I really think you’re sexy, inside and out, and you proved it tonight,” he told me.

  That’s all I needed to hear. I knew he meant every word. I don’t think Dutch was capable of holding back his thoughts and opinions. He might have been a man of few words but when he spoke, his words were genuine and honest. I hugged Dutch to me, “Thank you.”

  “Just telling you the way it is,” he said.

  >>O<<

  That next morning after Dutch left, I met Becky at the coffeehouse and told her everything. I told her about riding behind Dutch, about his friends at the seedy bar, about the body shots, about kissing Sheila but when I told her about the sex with Dutch, I took my time and didn’t leave out a single detail. I did it as much to shock her as to measure her. I wanted to know how she’d react. I wanted to know if she was a true friend or not.

  “That’s just...disgusting,” Becky said.

  “What part?” I asked.

  “All of it. Letting all those people touch you, kissing that woman...,” she began to say and I’d heard enough.

  “Wait a minute. What happened to all your tolerance? I thought you were all for gay rights, but I kiss a woman and it’s disgusting?” I challenged her. Becky seemed to be at a loss for words. It seemed a little logic and reason was too much for her. I wasn’t a lesbian and Sheila and I were just playing around for the guy’s benefit, but that didn’t matter.

  Becky, and a lot of my friends, wore their supposed tolerance on their sleeves. They talked as if they were somehow more tolerant, more compassionate and more accepting than the masses. However, their actions proved just the opposite time and time again. They said one thing because it made them feel good, but did another. I knew what was coming next and I was dead on.

  “Well, you’re not a lesbian,” Becky said. There it was. The exception that made what she said the right thing. I fit in so Becky and those like her accepted me. I was like them so I was OK. However, as soon as I made choices Becky didn’t agree with or understand, she started looking down her nose at me. However, Dutch and his friends were real. They weren’t pretending to be anything they weren’t just to fit in. One Dutch was worth a hundred of the metrosexual so called men I used to date. One Sheila was worth a hundred friends like Becky.

  “So what does that matter?” I asked. Again, Becky was speechless for a moment. Then she attacked. I should have seen it coming. Not only was I questioning her ideals, but she couldn’t argue with my logic.

  “I’m so disappointed in you. I thought you were better than that. Frankly, I’m disgusted. Just because you’re overweight doesn’t mean you have to sink to those people’s level,” Becky said.

  “Is that what you think about me?” I asked giving her one last chance to convince me I had grossly misunderstood her.

  “What that you’re a loser or that you’re fat?” Becky asked. I was hoping for at least a halfhearted explanation but I guess I had offended Becky’s sensibilities and now I was beneath her and, therefore, no longer worthy of her respect.

  “Wow!” was all I could say. Sure, I wasn’t perfect but neither was Becky. I used to want to look like her. I held myself up to her and never felt like I measured up. Dutch was right. It wasn’t what I looked like that mattered. It was what I was inside that defined me. Becky might have been a beautiful girl on the outside but on the inside, she was ugly. Suddenly, I felt so much prettier than Becky.

  “Go be with your biker buddies. Go let that guy all but rape you. Go demean yourself with that dyke. I don’t know who you are anymore and I don’t want to,” Becky said only confirming my thoughts.

  “Well, I guess that makes two of us. I’m disappointed too. You’re just an elitist. You think you’re better than everyone else and it’s so unbecoming,” I said as I got up, grabbed my purse and prepared to leave the coffeehouse.

  “I am better. I’m better than that scuzzy biker of yours and if you want to be with a guy like that, I’m better than you are. Have fun biker girl,” Becky said dismissively. I just shook my head and walked away. How could I have been so blind? When I made choices she agreed with, Becky was my best friend but as soon as I took a different direction, she turned on me. I looked back as I walked past the front windows. That place was full of people like her. Whether they were elitist bitches like Becky or just pretending to be to fit in and feel good about themselves didn’t matter.

  I suddenly felt liberated. I called Dutch and asked him if he wanted to go for a ride. He did. He always did. I went home, changed into jeans and tight tank top and slipped into a pair of spike-heeled boots that weren’t intended for riding on the back of a motorcycle, but looked the part all the same. Dutch showed up and we walked out to his bike. I put on my helmet, straddled the bike and slipped my arms around Dutch. “C’mon, daddy. Let’s of have some fun,” I whispered in his ear.

  Dutch looked over his shoulder and smiled. He didn’t say a word, but he didn’t have too. He stomped on the starter, popped the bike into gear and off we roared. I felt the wind in my face, the freedom, and held Dutch even tighter. I barely knew this man or what he was about, but I meant to find out. For now, however, I didn’t care. It felt good and I went with it. That’s all that really mattered.

  >>O<<

  Act II

  I felt the wind in my face as we wound up the curvy, two-lane mountain road towards the lake. I held Dutch tight enjoying the exhilarating freedom as he mastered the tight curves of the road just as he maneuvered around my own curves with his hands. Dutch always assured me he babied the throttle so as not to frighten me, just like in bed when he told me he was holding back for my benefit, but I felt like we were going a hundred miles per hour.

  Sheila pulled up next to us with Locke just behind her. The three bikes cruised up the mountain in perfect harmony, the roar echoing for miles. Sheila was on her 1200 Custom Sportster decked out in deep red. Locke was on his custom chopper with the raked front end and wild graphics. Dutch and I rode his custom Heritage Softail, a classic Harley that I had come to adore as much for its smooth ride as its sturdy good looks. Just like its owner.

  We reached the lake and found a spot to pull off the road. It was late summer, still warm, but the crowds were gone. We found a nice little beach down below and after a short hike, the four of us settled in for a pleasant afternoon. We savored the warm weather before it gave way to the cooler temperatures of fall. Of course, with these three it wasn’t long before tro
uble, the good kind, found us. I still wasn’t quite used to the spontaneous and wild nature of Dutch and his friends but that didn’t mean I didn’t enjoy it.

  Sheila stood up as she finished her beer. Dutch and Sheila had brought them along in their saddlebags packed in ice. As we all watched, Sheila started to peel off her clothes. She seemed to like getting naked, especially where she shouldn’t. “Come on, let’s go skinny-dipping,” she said as she almost fell over trying to pull off her boot.

  “Sheila!” I exclaimed as I laughed. Dutch and Locke watched her as she stripped completely naked. Her long red hair and pale, nearly flawless skin made her quite the beauty. She had a small patch of unruly red hair above her pink mound, which she kept smooth. I didn’t blame Dutch for watching. Hell, so was I. Sheila was beautiful by anyone’s standards and I could appreciate what the men saw in her.

  “You go, baby!” Locke said as he chugged his beer, got up and began to pull off his own clothes. I looked at Dutch and he smiled back and shrugged.

  “Shall we?” I asked. Dutch stood and offered me his hand. After he pulled me to my feet, we both stripped naked. I should have been embarrassed to get naked like this, but I wasn’t. Sheila was so pretty with a fantastic body but the way Dutch looked at me made me feel just as pretty. I was learning to appreciate myself the way he did and it felt good. Besides, amongst the four of us it didn’t seem anyone cared what anyone looked like. I never felt inadequate around any of them.

  Sheila was in the water before the rest of us, diving in and then floating on her back. Locke was right behind her and soon all of us were swimming in the mountain lake. It wasn’t as cold as I would have thought, especially after I got used to it. From the water, we could hear the cars on the road above, but couldn’t see them. Skinny-dipping was kind of naughty, something my old friends would never have done.

  I used to hang around a completely different crowd, mostly urban professionals. We all fancied ourselves as being pretty hip but elitist might have been a better term. My supposed friend, Becky, turned on me after I began seeing Dutch. She wasn’t impressed with the biker or my appreciation of him. She claimed to be tolerant but when I no longer lived my life the way she thought I should, she kicked me to the curb. I’d found new friends and they didn’t have conditions.

  Now, I was living a completely different life. Office drone by day, sexy, big girl biker bitch by night. I never realized how stifling my old life had become. I didn’t even realize how I was striving to conform to fit the narrow definition of what was considered acceptable. Now, with Dutch and his friends, I could be who I wanted to be. I could let my hair down, so to speak, without fear of being judged or mocked.

  Sheila swam out to a rock, climbed up onto it, and spread her legs invitingly. I watched as Locke followed her and before I knew it, he was going down on her. I couldn’t take my eyes off the scene. I’d never seen another couple do anything like that and I was shocked at how aroused it made me. Dutch bobbed in the water a few yards away and watched the show as well. The more time I spent around these three, the crazier it got and the more I liked it.

  “Shauna,” Sheila called to me and I lifted my eyes from between her legs. She curled her index finger at me, inviting me to join her. I felt that rush like the night I first met her and we did body shots from each other’s naked breasts. It was scary and arousing all at once. Everything I knew told me I shouldn’t join her. It was wrong, it was disgusting and it was degrading. That’s what most people would say. I ignored it all and went anyway.

  I joined my friend on the rock and once I was seated next to Sheila I spread my own creamy thighs and bid Dutch to dive in. He didn’t need any other encouragement. I could clearly see Locke as he ate his wife’s pussy and I must admit it was thrilling to watch. However, when Dutch began to bite my inner thighs on his way to my soft folds, I squealed despite myself. Sheila laughed, her excitement growing and soon Dutch had his face buried deep between my legs, pleasuring me with his lips and tongue.

  “I could do this all day,” Sheila announced as she leaned back onto her outstretched arms and enjoyed the warm sun and her husband’s attention.

  “You’re so naughty,” I said playfully and she winked at me.

  “You have no idea, Shauna,” Sheila told me and I could only wonder what she and Locke did when Dutch and I weren’t around. Dutch quickly had my state of arousal matching Sheila’s. I couldn’t help but feel self-conscious as I climbed towards an inevitable orgasm but those feelings only made the whole experience more exciting.

  Then Sheila began panting and moaning as her hand pushed Locke’s bald head even deeper between her thighs and she came. I watched as she closed her eyes and let the pleasure wash over her. I found it deeply arousing to watch another woman orgasm right next to me and within moments, I joined her. Dutch’s tongue worked its magic on my clit and soon both Sheila and I were in the throes of passion.

  I moaned and fought the urge to scream out loud as the searing climax ripped through me. God, this was so damned naughty. I couldn’t help but watch Sheila as I orgasmed and found her looking right back at me. She managed a smile before she leaned over and slipped her tongue into my mouth. Oh my, that was all I needed. I exploded again as I sucked on her tongue and then Sheila pulled away as another orgasm took her.

  We both writhed on that rock as the boys pleasured us, each of us coming several more times before we both began to get too worked up. Finally, Sheila pushed Locke away and he looked disappointed. I let Dutch take me through one last satisfying orgasm before I pulled away laughing.

  “We better stop before we all wind up on shore in a big writhing pile of bodies,” Sheila said as she slipped into the water and hugged her husband.

  “Or in jail,” I added jokingly as I slipped back into the lake, the water feeling quite warm after being out in the air.

  “Wouldn’t be the first time Sheila’s been picked up for lewd behavior,” Dutch said as he scooped me up into his arms.

  “Hey, that was a misunderstanding. I didn’t know she was a cop,” Sheila protested. Locke and Dutch both laughed. We all made our way back to shore but nobody seemed ready to get dressed just yet. We all ended up lounging on the beach naked. Sheila sat on her folded jeans and reclined between Locke’s legs who sat on a rock behind her. Dutch and I sat next to one another on a flat rock facing the couple. We all enjoyed a few beers as we let the sun warm us.

  “And?” I finally asked wanting to hear about Sheila and the female cop.

  “She didn’t actually arrest me. It was at Mardi Gras a couple of years back. I was drunk and flashing my tits at anyone and everyone. She happened by and I flashed her too. She wasn’t happy at first, but Locke talked her down and we even got her to pose for a picture with us. She was cool,” Sheila explained. Not as lurid as I was thinking, but still pretty funny.

  “We’ll show you the picture sometime. When Dutch snapped the picture, Sheila flashed her tits. I’m not sure if the cop knew or not, but it was funny,” Locke added.

  “You three are corrupting me,” I said jokingly.

  “Fun, isn’t it?” Locke asked. I nodded. It was fun. Even now, sitting around by the lake still nude, was fun. It was liberating and exciting. It felt like we were breaking the rules, and I guess we were. It was refreshing not having to worry about what everyone thought and doing whatever felt good.

  “I wouldn’t trade all of this for the world. I have to work with a bunch of so-called normal people,” Sheila began. “If they aren’t looking down their nose at me, they’re whispering how much they want to be like me. I always tell them, just go do it. Whatever it is, start living your dream. They always smile and tell me they can’t or offer excuses,” she finished. Dutch and Locke nodded.

  That was a common theme when we got together. All of us had our stories about how we found this life. None of us was born a free-spirited biker. We all found our way to the lifestyle after finding ourselves dissatisfied with our lives for one reason or another. Sheila
was raised devoutly Catholic and rebelled as a young adult. Locke’s dad was a businessman that spent more time at work that he did with his wife and kids. Dutch, well, I knew something drove him to live as he did but I hadn’t managed to find out what. We talked but never about that.

  As the newest convert, I had my own story and Dutch, Locke and Sheila were a big part of it. Dutch claimed he knew I was different from the other women, especially my friend Becky, the night he came on to me. He wasn’t subtle, even a little demeaning when he told me to call him daddy. Nevertheless, he was right. I was different and after I began dating him, I found that out. Becky lectured me and when I didn’t come around to her way of thinking, she simply cut ties with me.

  A lot of the other’s I called friends did too. Like some high school clique, they all followed Becky’s lead and suddenly, I was persona non grata, so to speak. Some of those people hadn’t talked to me since. Those that do acknowledge my existence ask me worriedly what went wrong and if my boyfriend was treating me well, as if being a biker automatically made you some kind of violent thug. I didn’t hang out at the coffeehouse anymore, preferring the company of Dutch and his friends.