The video showed a werewolf – blond, like Ryker, though not quite as muscular – dressed in leather pants, heavy boots, and chest harness. He was circling a woman, touching and squeezing her as he moved, and in his hand he had a riding crop.
Dylan flinched when the werewolf suddenly slammed the crop down on the woman’s ass. He watched her skin turn a bright red where the crop had hit, wondering if the moan she’d let out when it landed was real.
Dylan exited the video, amending his search with the wordgay.
Yet again, the first result was a video. Dylan clicked on it, watching an absolute hulk of a werewolf appear on his screen, sitting on a couch next to a normal looking human.
The werewolf introduced himself, the human doing the same, and then the next thing Dylan knew, the werewolf was pulling the man down between his legs and smacking his face.
Dylan watched with bated breath as the werewolf proceeded to spend the next twenty minutes absolutely brutalizing his scene partner. He slapped his face, choked him, pulled his hair, and even stepped on his head as he fucked him.
It reminded Dylan of how Ryker had treated him. The werewolf in the video was definitely rougher – Ryker hadn’t stepped on him or punched his stomach – but there were many similarities.
Dylan exited out of the video and closed his laptop. He hadn’t learned anything new, except that he wouldn’t mind if August and Ryker wanted to step on him a little.
Climbing out of bed, Dylan winced at the pain shooting up from his hole when he got to his feet. Ryker’s cock had been an absolute monster, and Dylan was still a little shocked he’d been able to take the whole thing.
The insides of his thighs were sticky and gross, and he was in desperate need of a shower.
First, he stripped the bed and put the dirty sheets in a pile by the door. He then made the bed with fresh sheets and walked to the bathroom where he took a long shower. He did his usual routine of washing up and brushing his teeth, enjoying the hot water pounding down on his back and the drag of the washcloth over his skin.
He cleaned between his crack, making sure to get his hole properly washed, wincing and dancing on the tips of his toes when the sudsy bubbles stung his overly stretched rim.
The pain was sharp and unpleasant, and Dylan wondered how long it would take him to get used to being fucked by Ryker and August’s giant cocks. There was no way it would be this painful if he was having regular sex with them. In the future, he’d probably be able to take their cocks and walk it off like it was nothing.
Stepping out of the shower, Dylan dried off and cursed himself for getting ahead of himself again. He didn’t know if August and Ryker wanted this to be a long-term thing. For all he knew, the two werewolves would see him one more time and then be bored of him.
Thinking back to Ryker’s exasperation when he wanted him to worship his chest, Dylan cringed. He’d been so embarrassed, but now he wished he’d just done it. It wasn’t like he hadn’t wanted to worship Ryker’s chest – he’d wanted to push his face into those mountainous pecs from the moment he first saw them – but doing so felt like he was exposing himself in the worst way.
He should have realized that he’d already been exposed. Ryker knew that he was hopelessly attracted to him, and he liked that about him. What he hadn’t liked was Dylan’s hemming and hawing.
And it wasn’t like Dylan had any more reason to be embarrassed than Ryker. He wasn’t the one who’d stood there shirtless, cock hanging out of his compression pants, wearing gloves and wanting to get his armpits licked.
That had been Ryker.
Dylan needed to change his whole attitude, he decided. The next time he spent time with August and Ryker, he would make an effort to push down his embarrassment and just go for it – like they did.
He wouldn’t wear gloves, though. He didn’t think he’d be able to keep a straight face if he was getting fucked and there were gloves on his hands.
Hopefully they wouldn’t ask for that. Handcuffs, on the other hand, he was very interested in exploring.
Setting his alarm, Dylan climbed into bed and turned off the lights. He curled up with his back against the wall and hugged his comfort pillow, drifting off to sleep with thoughts of Ryker and August and all the fun they were going to have together.
* * *
The next morning Dylan had class and then a quick meeting with his thesis advisor to discuss his progress, before he headed off to have lunch with Annie.
His thesis was shaping up nicely – he was ahead of schedule for once – and he’d gotten the time slots he’d asked for in the printing lab. He was in a fantastic mood.
“You’re limping,” was the first thing Annie said to him, meeting him outside the café and giving him a hug. “Did you have a nice time last night?”
Dylan blushed and nodded. “It was nice. How about you?”
Annie made a face and took his arm. “Let’s go inside and I’ll tell you all about it.”
They walked into the café and found a table. Dylan sat down while Annie went up to the counter to order for both of them. He took off his coat and draped it over the back of his chair, placing his backpack between his legs and looking around.
The café was fairly busy, even for lunchtime, with a mix of students and workers from nearby offices.
