Just a Wolf

Amelia

How many hours have passed? It doesn’t matter. We alternate between kissing, and lying together in silence, and having a little bit of conversation. I’ve never really kissed anyone before, and I would have thought it would feel strange, but it doesn’t. Having his lips on mine, tasting his yummy scent, feeling his tongue exploring everywhere in my own mouth, feels more perfect than I could have ever imagined. Sometimes he seems to be nibbling a little bit on my lip, and I have the strangest sense that I just want him to devour me. He moves over to the side, kissing along the line of my jaw, and when he starts licking around my ear, and nibbling my earlobe, I shiver uncontrollably. I can’t get enough of this. I don’t want to let go of him, even for a second.

We’ve gotten to know each other a little. He’s told me about his job and his family, and I have told him about mine. He’s a couple of years older than me. We haven’t tried to start making plans yet, but obviously we have to. Our lives are now permanently, unquestionably, forever intertwined. Whatever we do, it will be as one. Where will we live? What will we tell our families? What will happen with our jobs? I don’t know any of it. But it almost doesn’t matter. What could matter as long as we are together?

My wolf is purring inside my mind, actually purring, sounding more like a cat than a dog, as I lie quietly against his chest again, listening to the steady thud of his heartbeat. I want to hear this sound every moment of every day of the rest of my life. Mmmmmm.

I open my eyes, and happen to glance down, and am confused by something that doesn’t make any sense to me. I see something that I don’t understand. Poking up out of the waistband of his suit pants, is something round and shiny and fleshy, and it doesn’t make any sense at all. I know he’s a guy, and I have changed enough baby boy diapers in my life to understand their equipment, but what is it doing all the way up there? Like up to his belly button? That’s not where that belongs. And why is it so big around? I’m not sure I could even wrap my hand around it. This is nothing like what I have seen during babysitting duties. I am baffled, and can’t stop myself from sucking in my breath in a little gasp.

I feel him lift his head. “What?” he asks.

Then I think he realizes what I am staring at. I think he’s embarrassed. “Oh, um, sorry,” he says, and quickly reaches down with his free hand to adjust things, and tuck whatever that was back away lower into his pants. “I’m, just, um, happy, and, um, I….” he trails off, and I am afraid that he is mortified.

“Was that…” I hesitate, “... was that your… willy?”

He pfffts out a laugh, sounding half amused and half humiliated. “My what?”

“Your … you know … your willy.” I’m mortified too. I’ve never seen anything like that, or had any conversation like this.

“Do you mean my dick?” he asks. “You call that a willy?” Now he is actually laughing.

“Well, sorry,” I say defensively. “That’s just what I’ve heard the little boys I babysit saying.”

He seems to realize that I’m embarrassed too, and that seems to matter more to him than his own discomfort. He reaches up and smooths my hair on my head. “It’s fine,” he says, “don’t worry, I don’t mind. You can call it whatever you want.”

I can’t make myself say “dick”. That seems very, I don’t know, nasty. Maybe someday. But I won’t call it the silly baby word either. “So,” I say, then stop. I want to ask him about it, but I don’t know if I should.

I think that he senses how I am feeling. “I don’t mind,” he says quietly, “you can tell me anything you want. Or ask me anything. I just want you to be happy, and comfortable.”

I realize, with an overwhelming sense of security, that even through his own discomfort, he only wants to protect me. He wants to prioritize me. I think that he fully intends to put my needs before his own. I have never felt this from anyone before, not even from my parents who I know love me so much. Dominic’s love for me is overpowering. And I feel the same. We’ve only known each other a few hours, and I feel the mate bond settling into my very soul.

I can tell that he is waiting expectantly for me to ask the question I had started. Well, all right then. “Okay, then, like, why was it up there? Like, coming out of your pants?”

He is silent for a moment, but I don’t think it is because he doesn’t want to talk about it. I think it is because he is trying to think of a way to explain. “You’ve only seen babies?” he asks. “Little boys? Never older guys?”

I nod, starting to feel embarrassed again. I always shift in private, since I have my room here at the bottom of the stairs. So even if the whole pack is doing a run together, I shift here. I don’t see everybody else, and part of that is because I always thought it would be embarrassing to see the men, and especially to have them see me. “Um, yeah, I guess I’ve never seen a, you know, man….” I trail off, realizing how dumb I sound.

But I think now he just wants to help me understand, like this is very important to him. And I know I have to learn about this. Clearly this is a part of him that I will need to know about. I suppose there is stuff about me that he’ll have to learn about as well. “After you grow up, I mean, a guy grows up,” he tells me, “it gets bigger. A lot bigger when you’re excited.”

Oh. “Do you mean that you are… excited?”

He huffs out a little laugh. “Yes.” He doesn’t go into any more detail about that, but I sense from that one word that he is experiencing a whole level of feeling that I didn’t understand until just now.

I think I am excited too. Kissing him makes me feel a sort of throbbing deep inside, feeling my pulse right down in my lady business. I’ve felt something like that before, enough to make me squirm around when I’m alone at night sometimes, but never like this. It really focuses the attention. Apparently this feeling is even more powerful for him, enough to make his willy come popping right out of his pants.

But I’m not ready to deal with that. I love him already, and he loves me, but that seems like a whole new step, and it feels very early to try to figure out how to even do that. I wouldn’t know how to even get started.

I mean, I’m not a complete idiot. I had sex ed in school, but it never went into too much detail. “Does that mean that you want….” I hesitate again.

“Yes,” he breathes, “I want you.” He says it very softly. Then he smooths my hair again. “But not yet. We have time, you know. Our whole lives. It will happen when you’re ready. When we’re both ready.”