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"Where did you put the gifts?" Alan asked for what had to be the sixteenth time that morning.

"In the boot, along with the trifle my mum made," replied the patient wolf, his eyes fixed on the road ahead as he steered the car through the expectedly minimal Christmas day traffic. Nobody was out at this time of day, everyone was still at home opening gifts and trying to control children hyped up on near toxic levels of chocolate.

"In with the trifle?! What if it spills?" The red fox asked, glancing behind them as if expecting to see an explosion of sherry trifle somehow leaking from the boot of the car and preparing to make an assault on their super-smart clothing. No dressing casual, oh no not for Alan's parents.

"It won't spill. It's inside a sealed Tupperware tub, wrapped in foil, wrapped in cling film, inside two carrier bags. Quite frankly if the damn trifle makes it out of there it has become sentient and we will have a lot more problems on our paws than it attacking your parent's gifts," chuckled the wolf as he put his foot down just a little.

"Hey, it's not funny this is important. I want my parents to like you," the fox snapped and then he paused and sighed. "Not like they will. I mean you could have the actual crown jewels in there, but all she'd do is turn you in for robbing the tower of London and turning her little boy gay."

"Well, grand larceny is a pretty serious crime. Although, I'm pretty sure I could plead that you were as gay as the day is long when we met... at that orgy," Damien chuckled in response and braced himself for what he knew was coming.

"Under no circumstances are you to tell them THAT story. We met at a gay Christian carolling session four years ago!" Squealed the fox in outrage.

"Oh yeah, you did show off your great oral range that day," sniggered the large wolf in reply. It had been a very fun meeting, the young fox on his knees and ready to play with whomever. Damien had actually not been that keen to attend, but there was a pony he thought was cute going and he figured if he couldn't score with him at an actual orgy then he might as well stop playing the game. Then he had been introduced to Alan and damn that fox knew how to suck wolf dick and pretty much any other kind of dick. He never did get the pony ride he wanted, but he found something he needed instead.

"It's not funny. This is serious..."

"I know, I'm not daft. First time in seven years your family has actually invited you for Christmas dinner." The black wolf replied with a calm and yet loving tone. Alan's deeply religious mother had not taken the fox's coming out well. Damien did not have all the details but he knew that she had called the local vicar and asked if he could perform an exorcism or something to that effect. Then there had been several years of 'he's not my son' and Alan had taken that to heart and gone out to prove it. He definitely was not their son, he was a very naughty fox boy.

The big wolf had seen through the horny vulpine act, not straight the way. First, he had enjoyed it for a bit. Though eventually, he had seen the truth of the situation. A poor little fox determined to prove his mother both right and wrong at the same time. It had been a long time since they had been to an orgy. Although they did still have a few friends with benefits. Damien was no saint and he liked to get his dick wet, same as the next wolf.

"Ok, we're about five minutes out. Why don't you run me through the day one more time?" Damien did not need to hear it again, however, he knew that it would help calm his partner down. Civil partner technically since they tied the knot, of the non-canine variety, over a year ago. It had been a small affair, just a few friends and Damien's parents and brother. Alan's parents had not been invited and the wolf was sure that had been the turning point.

A week or two afterwards the fox had gotten a call, out of the blue, from his mother. They had not spoken in years, but social media being what it was she had found out about their ceremony. Alan had not taken it well, retreating back into the defensive little fox determined to fight back. Far too defensive to see what was happening. Then to the wolf's surprise, he had received an email from Alan's parents. Or at least signed off by both of them. Just a short message to say welcome to the family.

Damien had responded to say thank you, it was the polite and British thing to do after all. A few days later he had received another longer email. This time signed just by Alan's mother. She said that she missed her son and that she wanted to apologise, but knew he would not listen and that it was her fault. It seemed genuine enough and it tugged hard enough on the wolf's heartstrings for him to show it to the fox.

That had been in January. After almost a year of emails and then phone conversations, apologies, tears and recriminations, the fox had slowly begun to open up his heart to his parents. Now they had been invited up to Yorkshire for Christmas. Damien could see how nervous the fox really was. Talking on the phone was one thing, but he had not seen his parents since the day he had came out to them.

Even Damien felt nervous and the big patient wolf rarely let anything shake him. He would be the first boyfriend that his fox's parents had ever met and he was already pretty much their son-in-law. Though, he was not sure exactly how it worked. Civil partner was not the same as marriage, to the wolf, it was just as good. All the legal protections, none of the religious hypocrisy.

"Well, we're going to arrive by eleven. We'll exchange gifts pretty much after the hellos. My mother will have knitted us both Christmas jumpers, they will be hideous but you will wear it," began the fox and Damien chuckled a little at that part. "My father, he's like a Yorkshire man, but ...like a living stereotype. So he's not going to say much."

"Is he going to go down t' mill and play cricket?" Damien asked in his best attempt at a Yorkshire accent.

The fox rolled his eyes, "that's right, get that right out of your system now, because this is fucking Yorkshire, boy, and you don't talk daft about cricket in Yorkshire." His own natural accent coming out a little more. "Dinner will be at One pm on the fucking dot. To give us two hours to eat before the Queen's speech..."

"Are we really going to watch that?" Asked the wolf for what was definitely the sixteenth time. To his family, the Queen's speech was what happened to other people at Christmas. It was an anachronistic absurdity that was surely more for tourists than actual British people.

"Yes, we are. You will sit quietly and watch the old bat say whatever she has to say with a glass of sherry in your paw, and you will not touch a drop until she is finished. I don't care if the fucking house catches on fire, you will join in the toast to her Majesty's health." The fox's voice was suddenly very stern and Damien knew this was no joke, to Alan's mother anyway, possibly his father. However, it was nice to see, because it showed that the fox really did want to reconnect. If that meant following some other families traditions the wolf would toast the Damned Queen. "Then afterwards you can relax a little. My dad will break out the Christmas booze. Do not get hammered! Tipsy is fine, a little bit more is acceptable."

"I'm not going to get drunk the very first time I meet my in-laws. I can't imagine anything more embarrassing than that," Damien replied with a little honesty. As the sat nav device told him he had reached his destination and the terrified look on his lover's face confirmed it. "Deep breath, it'll be ok."

Alan's eyes were fixed on his childhood home. The last time he had seen it had been one of the worst days of his life. All the emails, conversations and reassurances in the world could not make this moment an easy one. Turning the engine off, Damien reached over and took the fox's paw in his, squeezing firmly. He knew better than to say anything or to try and push the fox out the door. You push Alan, he pushes back harder, then kicks you in the shins and spits in your eye. It was part of what he loved about the vulpine.

He heard the fox take a deep breath and whatever was going through Alan's mind was pushed aside and he nodded, "ok, you get the trifle, I'll carry the gifts." The fox's paw was pulled away and Damien got out. Gifts were retrieved from the boot, along with the trifle. Damien's mother had insisted on sending something for the meal. Which was a good thing because she made a mean sherry trifle and it was something the wolf looked forward to every year. His family did not have much in the way of Christmas traditions. However, it simply would not be Christmas without eating a bowl full of trifle while so overstuffed on food he could not sit comfortably.

On the front door was a large ornate wreath, made from actual holly Damien noticed. No plastic decorations for this family he guessed. The black door swung open as they arrived and they were greeted by two foxes. Alan's father was large for a fox, both in height and girth. A good beer belly hung over the top of his well-ironed shirt and pants. Sunday bests for Christmas, of course. The old boy certainly did seem to be conforming to stereotype right down to his smoking pipe and reading glasses.

While Alan's mother was far smaller and thinner. It seemed that the fox took after his mother, at least when it came to his waistline. She was dressed in a fine dress, red and white of course in respect of the season. With a conservative neckline and hemline. The black wolf could not help but notice the cross she wore around her neck. "Merry Christmas, come on in out of the cold!" She bellowed at them waving enthusiastically. "Was the drive ok? No problems with the traffic. We heard there'd been a lorry turn over on the M-one."

"No problems, roads were nice and clear," the wolf replied, juggling the trifle onto one paw to offer up a friendly handshake. While he noticed his usual feisty partner was a little subdued and he tried to fill the gap.

"Oh is that the trifle Kathy sent us?" The female fox asked. Their mothers were friends on Facebook. Meaning that his mother-in-law probably knew a lot more about him than the wolf was comfortable with. "Let me take that. Robert, go put this in the fridge, we'll have it with supper." The trifle was pulled from his paws and thrust into the male fox's hands in one deft motion. Then Damien felt himself suddenly wrapped up in a vulpine embrace. "Welcome, it's so nice to meet you, at last, Damien."

No stranger to vulpine hugs, the wolf gave a gentle hug in return. Feeling slightly awkward as his lover just stood there motionless. Just as Damien was worried that Alan might be about to break down in tears the fox seemed to unfreeze. "Hi, Mother. Merry Christmas. It's... good to see you. We got you..."

"Ah ah ah! Gifts go under the tree, you know that Alan." The female fox cut in with a very maternal tone. "Now, why don't you go put them under the tree, while I get you and your civil partner a cup of tea? Do you take milk and sugar, Damien, dear?" There was no question that anyone might want a coffee or something else to drink. It would be tea and the wolf was not going to dare to rock the boat, lest he should fall overboard.

"Just milk please, Mrs Ne..."

"Oh please, call me Dorothy!" The fox cut in with a smile. "Just milk it is, be back with a proper copper in a moment."

"Thank you, Mrs... Dorothy," Damien replied feeling rather sheepish.

"Come on, I'll show you to the tree, and our stockings," Alan said nodding towards another door. The hallway was immaculate, not a speck of dust or hint at anything out of place. Recently painted walls, with a single painting of a horse in a field hung on the wall where it could be seen when the front door opened.

"Sorry... did you say, stockings?" Damien asked as they entered a living room so perfectly decorated the wolf felt like he was standing in a Christmas card. Gold and red decorations only, every one set so perfectly symmetrical that he was sure someone would have had to use a ruler and a set square to get them into line. Golden lights shining around the window frame and even a delicate crystal angle on top of a real Christmas tree. While beautiful, it gave the wolf the feeling that wherever he stood he was making the scene look untidy.

There was a fireplace as well and his eyes spotted two stockings hanging from it. Each one red and with names embroidered onto them with delicate cross-stitching. One of them said Damien, "Actual stockings, you never said there'd be actual stockings hung by the fire!" The wolf hissed accusingly as if the stockings were some sort of vicious and hitherto unmentioned family pet.

"I said we'd open presents," replied the fox. As if a thirty-five-year-old wolf would always naturally get his presents from a stocking hung by the fire on Christmas day. Damien had not hung a stocking up since he was a cub. Even then it had actually been more of a gym sock than an actual stocking. Also by hanging up, he had laid it out on a chair. More sort of a strange laundry offering to Santa than anything else. However, it had always been filled on Christmas morning. With small gifts, while sitting on top of his actual presents.

Alan's mother returned a few minutes later, with a tray, teapot and cups. While, her husband wandered in, pipe in his mouth and gave them both a nod. What followed was, for Damien, one of the weirdest Christmas mornings of all time. The stockings were taken down from the fire and given to each of them. Inside, as Alan had warned, was a hand-knitted Christmas jumper. His was rows of holly. Very traditional. While Alan had a giant reindeer face, with a red nose covering most of the fox's stomach.

Jumpers were put on and the rest of the gifts were opened; socks, also hand-knitted, an orange, a bag of nuts and a box of chocolates. Along with a very expensive gaming mouse, a gift the wolf suspected his fox partner might have had a paw in picking. Damien appreciated the care and the thought behind them, he at least felt like his in-laws were making a genuine attempt at welcoming him to their family. Although the jumper would almost certainly be considered a crime against fashion by most of his friends. On his huge bulky frame, it looked good. Though most things tended to. That was why he worked out so much.

The gifts they had brought for Alan's parents seemed to go down well. A bottle of Duke bourbon whisky for Robert. The fox supposedly loved westerns and a tipple made specifically for the late great John Wayne got a full and thoroughly well earned, "that's grand," from the elderly fox. Which from what Alan had told him was his father practically squealing in excitement. While the Crystal duck they bought for his mother got them so many thank yous and hugs that someone might have thought she was acting.

Dorothy announced that she had a few things to finish in the kitchen for Christmas dinner. "Why don't you boys take your bags up to the guest room?" She said and the couple took the opportunity gratefully to have a few moments alone. Taking their small overnight bags up to the spare room. It had a nice big double bed, and a small wardrobe and dresser.

"You ok?" Damien asked as soon as the door was closed.

Alan smiled a little weakly and nodded. "Yeah, I'm not sure what I was expecting. Maybe that she'd have some Christian ninjas ready to ambush us and take me off to conversion or something. Guess... I dunno last time I was in this house it was so different and she said some stuff that's hard to forget."

"Ok, first of all, Christian ninjas?" The wolf asked with a slight smile and a chuckle, as the fox just shrugged in response. Then he wrapped the fox up in his arms and pulled him close. "They seemed nice, to me."

"She's good at seeming." The fox replied softly. "Sorry, I'm just trying to process everything. A lot of emotions and stuff."

"I can imagine. Being back home, in your old room and everything after so long and..."

"This isn't my room," the fox cut in. "This is the guest bedroom. My room was the extension over the garage."

The wolf turned and looked at the door, "so your childhood bedroom is out there?"

Laughing the fox nodded, "yes, why? You want to see it?"

"The room that my sweet little foxy fox spent all his childhood in, growing up and..."

"Masturbating?" Alan cut in with a smirk.

"Well, I assume sometimes," the wolf nodded.

"A lot trust me, closeted and with a super religious mother. I used to spend so much of my time in there just in there dreaming of some sexy guy in there with me doing stuff," laughed the fox pulling away from the hug and towards the door. "My mother probably redecorated it and turned it into like a study for my father, or something the second I was out of here."

"Well, we could take a look, right? I can still imagine the cute little teenage fox in your natural habitat," pined the wolf with a slight whine in his voice.

"Couldn't hurt I suppose." Conceded the fox. "However, prepare yourself for disappointment."

"I'm prepared!" Damien announced excitedly. A little distraction from would be useful, he had a feeling that Alan needed one too. He was clearly still a little overwhelmed from being back home. Out into the hall and down to another closed door. Opening it the fox gasped a little as he stepped into the room.

The walls had a faded blue and gold Leeds United wallpaper. There were some movie posters on the wall. A single bed off next to a series of bookshelves holding a mixture of books and small figurines. With a couple of trophies sitting on at the top of the bookcase in pride of place. A large wardrobe and set of drawers. Plus a large desk set just before the window looking out over the street. It had a few figures neatly arranged on it.

Glancing at his partner he could see the fox frozen once more. His eyes had a slightly glassy look to them, "they kept all my stuff." He muttered, moving to his desk and picking up some of the figures. "I can't believe they kept it all."

While he let his partner have a moment or two to himself, Damien wandered around the room. Glancing along the bookshelf checking out the titles. A large selection of Star Wars books, which just confirmed that the fox had not changed much. He picked up a small toy Dalek and chuckled. All the sci-fi stuff he had learned to love because of the fox he loved. Then his eyes fell on something else and he let out a happy little lupine yelp.

A photo of a football team, a school football team. Also blue and gold, strange that Alan never spoke about or showed any interest in football. There he was in the front row, younger and far less worldly but unmistakably his fox. "Oh my god, you were such a cute kid!" The wolf squealed showing the fox the picture. "We have to get you some football shorts!"

The fox shook his head and laughed a little. "I don't play anymore."

Pouting a little Damien replied, "well I know you don't play ball games anymore, but you sure like to play with balls." He retorted sticking out his tongue.

Alan took the picture from his paws and glanced at it, "I quit the team the year after this. They had communal showers and... it was getting hard hiding stuff."

"Ah yes, your stuff is pretty hard to hide," the wolf agreed. "Though I think that's a good thing. I never knew you were so into football. I mean Leeds United bedsheets? I thought you were like twenty when you left home."

Laughing the fox sat down on his bed, stroking the sheets, "well, it was more a way to connect with my dad. He never spoke much, but we used to watch the matches together and... it was nice to feel close to him."

Sitting down next to his lover, the wolf took the picture back and looked at it again, "can't believe you were this cute. Teenage me would have been all over teenage you and your cute little football shorts."

Snorting the fox replied, "you really like the shorts huh?"

"Well more the guy in them, or even more accurately the guy he grew into. My sexy foxy fox guy," the black wolf replied smoothly. Putting the picture down on the small bedside table and reaching up to caress the fox's cheeks. "He's a really beautiful, sexy man and I love him."

The fox turned his head, kissing Damien's paw, "charmer." Damien took that as a sign and slid closer, pressing up against the fox and kissing his lips softly and tenderly. Just letting their warm lips press together, and he wrapped his arms around Alan's slender frame.

Leaning over the fox he started to deepen the kiss, his tongue very gently stroking Alan's lips. A soft moan escaped his lover and then the kiss was broken. The vulpine gave a gasp and he could see the flushed look and his ears perking up. Damien knew that his fox was fighting the urge to get frisky. "We... ah we should probably go..."

"Come on," purred the wolf. "It's Christmas. Plus this is your old room. If teenage you was here, what would he do?"

"You want to do teenage me?" Snorted the fox with a little derision, but the wolf could tell he was just deflecting his desires.

"No, and you know that. However, just think of this poor bed," Damien whispered, leaning in and placing a soft kiss on the fox's neck just above the awful jumper. Alan's neck had always been a weak spot. The wolf stroked his paw down the fox's flank and onto his nice dress pants. His fingers finding an erect cock pressing firmly into his paw as the fox moaned louder. "All those years it held you while you dreamt of being with a guy and here you are, with a guy. A sexy guy in a hideous jumper who just wants to fuck your brains out on this bed. Are you really going to spoil the bed's one chance to get lucky?"

The fox was humping up against his paw and gasping. His voice was distant and he seemed to be trying more to convince himself than the wolf as he replied, "that's stupid and...oooh... you know it. We... we have to be down by dinner."

The wolf's lips curled into a predatory smile. Damien knew he had just caught his prey, the fox was about to be brought down by his own fastidious preparations. "It's twelve thirty-five. We have twenty-five minutes. Your mother will be in the kitchen and your father will be in front of the T.V, all day. That's on the schedule. So we have twenty-five minutes to show your bed just what it's been missing all these years."

Shaking his head and laughing the fox replied, "you are such a daft horn ball." However, Damien felt the fox's paws stroking over his buttocks and squeezing and he knew he was going to get lucky.

"Yeah," he agreed and leant close and whispered. "That's what you love about me. That and my big fucking cock."

Alan did not reply with words, he just laughed and then reached around to start to unfasten his belt. "Alright, we can do this. However, we are keeping these god awful jumpers on and it'll be just a quickie. Just..."

"Stuff you as full of sausage meat as possible on Christmas day, while you wear that Christmas jumper?" Chuckled the wolf as he wrestled with his own belt. His thick erect cock poking free from his boxers. Already glistening with precum. Part of the gift of being a canine, there was never a need to carry lube he made his own. "My sexy vulpine turkey."

"You are such a dork," snorted the fox as his pants hit the floor and he lay down on his old bed. His tail lifting and his own cock fully erect. "Wait, the bottom drawer of the dresser. Should be a towel in there. I don't want to have to explain any stains to my mother."

Kicking his pants off the black wolf got up. He trotted across the room, his cock dripping in excitement. Grabbing a large towel from the drawer, he tossed it to his lover and then paused to admire the fox's red and white ass wriggle. While Alan lay the towel down over the bed. Growling with lust Damien crawled onto the bed. Grasping the fox's rump and pulling his cheeks apart, seeing his pink target right before his nose.

Leaning close he sniffed softly, getting a good lungful of his mate's musky scent. Letting the scent flow linger in his nose and work its way into his primal mind. Fueling his lusts, pressing his nose under the fox's tail he takes another deeper sniff of his mate and followed it up with a lick. Running his tongue across his lover's puckered entrance. A deep groan of pleasure escaped from the vulpine's muzzle. "Fuck... I don't think we have time for you... ohh... too do that." Alan whimpered, though Damien noticed the fox's rump was pressed back betraying his words with his actions.

"Shhh silly fox, we still have a good twenty minutes. Plenty of time for me to prepare you for a good stuffing," he growled softly and lustfully. Seeing the fox's ears quiver and lay back to his words. There would be no more resistance, he knew when his lover was submitting. Damien knew that this was not the smartest thing, but he also knew it would help Alan to feel like his rebellious self. If only just for a few minutes, and that might make him open up just a little more with his parents. Or that is how he justified it to himself.

Pressing his lips up against that pink pucker he stroked his broad tongue against the tail star. Knowing that Alan was right, he would have to be quick. However, he could see a digital clock on the bedside table and knew exactly how long he had. "Besides, it's Christmas day and it's almost lunchtime. You can't blame a wolf for being hungry and wanting something tasty to nibble on while he waits for his turkey and stuffing." He moaned, his words muffled by his lover's buttocks.

Soft whimpering noises were the only response to his tongue as it delved deeper inside the slightly musky rump. His large black paws grasped Alan's soft buttocks dominantly holding him in position as the wolf feasted. Pressing his tongue deeper and deeper as the vulpine squirmed and whined, wriggling against the tongue, pressing his ass back against Damien's muzzle as if trying to get him deeper.

Pulling his tongue back, he swirled it one last time across his lover's pucker. Then licked down his taint, inching ever closer to the dangling white plums. Tasting the sweaty musk and devouring it. His tongue quested and lashed against those nuts, as his ears drank up every last squeal and moan of pleasure that he milked from the fox's lips. However, as the minutes ticked away he knew his pre-meal snack was going to have to end.

With his eye on the clock, he pulled his muzzle back and moaned softly, "there, I think you are ready for your stuffing." He half expected a snappy comeback, but all he received was a soft whimpering moan. A definite yes from his lover, he knew that was Alan speak for "yes please, just as hard as you can, Sir." Getting up on his knees, he grasped Alan's excitedly thrashing tail and pulled it out of the way, just a little roughly. Not to hurt, but he knew rough handling pushed many of his partner's buttons.

With fifteen minutes on the clock, he pressed his cocktip to his lover's pucker. Feeling the warmth and then the inevitable push of his fox trying to get him inside. His paws grasped the fox's hips possessively, pausing for a moment to just enjoy the feeling. As the fox under his paws began to tremble with need and desire. Damien's own lusts and desires were peaking inside him. He could see his knot was already fully formed. Then he had a fun idea, reaching down he snatched up his pants and pulled his mobile out of his pocket.

"What are you doing?" Alan asked, the fox glaring back at him with lust-filled and slightly annoyed eyes. From bitter experience, Damien knew that you never rile a fox up and then don't deliver. He may have been half his size but Alan knew how to make him pay. He waved his phone at the fox and gave a broad grin. "I thought we could get a few snaps of you in your new super kinky gear." He could see the fox about to reply, but then Alan just shrugged his shoulders and stuck his ass up.

The pair had a collection of way kinkier images anyway. Although Damien knew he would savour this one just a little more. As he pressed his cock back to the fox's moist pucker he took a few snaps. Then with a joint moan, he sank his length deep into his lover. Alan's snug and well-used rump fitting his cock like a skin-tight warm silk glove. He slipped right in to the knot in a moment and took a few more snaps, making sure to show the glistening pre-soaked knot.

However, with each passing second, the vulpine showed exactly why he had asked for his number when they first met. Tight rump clenching and massaging his length, the fox's taut buttocks flexing as they massaged his cock wonderfully. It was a clear signal from his partner, picture time was over. Now was the time to stuff the horny fox until he squealed and made a mess on that towel. "Fuck, I love your ass so much... love the rest of you too." The wolf moaned as he started to slowly pull his cock back.

Closing his eyes he lost himself to the arm sensations tingling off his cock. Shifting his legs closer together he increased the angle so that his second thrust pressed down searching for a target he had long learned to hit. A gasp and moan from the fox told him that his aim was true. That warm rump pressed back eagerly against his knot, almost like the fox wanted it inside him. Damien knew that they did not have time for a tie. However, he would have to admit his desires and instincts were screaming at him to pin his lover down and breed the fox just as hard and as fast as he could. To stuff him full of his knot and feel that satisfying tingle of a willing bitch stuck around his knot as he unloaded into them.

Biting his lip he pulled back again, slowly. Loving the way his lover wriggled his hips every time he sank in to the hilt. The extra friction around his cock pulling him in deeper. Growling with predatory lusts he dove over his lover. Feeling that slender body pressing up against his. Their Christmas jumpers rubbing against one another to give an odd scratching sound to their mating. His hips began to swing faster and faster, driving his cock in again and again. Always aiming for that target, every time he hit it he heard his lover gasp in pleasure and felt that ass get even tighter, squeezing down around his thick length.

"F...fuck!" Alan moaned beneath him as his huge knot mashed against the fox's abused hole again. "Harder!" The fox whimpered and Damien felt his lover thrusting back firmly. "Make me cum you fucking dog." Those words slipped straight to the primal parts of Damien's brain, enraging the feral wolf inside.

Lifting up off his knees, he arched over the fox powerfully. His long length reaming deeper and deeper, using his hips to drive down harder and faster into that sweet spot. He fought the desire to take a mating bite, knowing it would mean getting a mouthful of wool and probably having to explain a few holes to Alan's mother. Instead, he just pressed his muzzle down on the fox's head growling as loudly as he could to show his dominance. Under him, he heard the fox whimpering and pushing up desperately into every thrust.

With each thrust his knot mashed against that tail hole, pressing in just a little deeper. Damien knew he should stop that, that he should let up and just finish his lover off with his paw and give him an ass-full of spunk. Each thrust he told himself would be the last, but every time he pulled back that fox ass clenched down hard sucking him back in. Unable to stop himself he plunged down again and again, harder and harder. "I'm... not...a...fucking...dog...you...foxy... bitch." Punctuating each word with a powerful thrust he bred the vulpine rump, feeling his knot slide in further and further.

"Prove it!" Squealed Alan. One last challenge and Damien lost himself to the lust of the moment. Giving up every last shred of control he fucked down with every ounce of speed and strength he could. Pummeling his knot harder and faster, grinding it and forcing it with pure bestial need. Until with a roar of triumph, he forced that knot of muscle into his lover. Alan squealed in bliss beneath him and he felt the fox's insides clenching and twisting around his knotted cock as the vulpine stained the towel beneath them. The room filling with the heavy scent of vulpine jism.

With his senses utterly dominated by his lover's bliss, scent, sound, and feel. Damien fucked roughly, ramming his knot back and forth by an inch as his thick spear-like cock began to throb and he flooded his lover's ass with his seed. Pumping it into the eager vulpine, with each languid sway of his hips as he basked in the pleasure.

Their ardour spent, Damien fell down onto the bed. Pulling Alan off all fours and into his arms. The two lay there panting, sweating under their jumpers as Damien's cock continued to shoot the last dregs of his seed into his mate. Neither of them said anything. However, a sound in the hall caught Damien's ears. He jerked his head to see the clock, pressing forward and pushing the fox in front of him. Alan put a paw down on the edge of the single bed, but it slipped and the vulpine tumbled forward, spinning around of his cock causing bolts of pleasure to shoot up his cock. Still tied the wolf was dragged right to the edge of the bed, just as another warning sound hit his ears. The sound of a handle being pressed.

There was no time to react, to try and hide anything. Alan was sprawled on his back, legs spread akimbo. Damien was pressed up to his naked ass, with just a thin sliver of pink wolf meat showing as the door to the bedroom opened. There, dressed in his own awful Christmas jumper, pipe in paw and shocked look on his face, was Alan's father. Damien opened his mouth to say something. However, he closed it again, there was nothing much he could say. It was very obvious what they had been doing and what had just happened.

For the longest thirty seconds of their lives, the elderly vulpine viewed the scene. Of his only son sprawled on the floor with his gay lover knot deep in his ass. Then he took a puff from his pipe and turned to shout, "I think the boys might have gone for a walk. They'll probably be back in..." the fox turned with a quizzical look, "Ten?" With his blood frozen Damien shook his head, "Fifteen?" Another shake, "Twenty?!" A slow nod. "Grand. Twenty minutes!"

The vulpine gave the wolf a wink, however, as he began to close the door they heard Dorothy shouting back, "but Dinner is on the table."

"I'm sure they are hurrying. You know Alan, he loves a good Christmas Stuffing." Then he was gone, leaving the two shell-shocked lovers to recover from the moment. Damien knew that there would be hell to pay once the fox recovered his senses. However, on the plus side, it was clear Alan's father did not have a problem with his son's sexuality.

I just published an Ebook of sexy orc story series, The books can be found at the links below.Thanks for reading

https://www.amazon.co.uk/dp/B08L1XNTVS UK

https://www.amazon.com/dp/B08L1XNTVS US

I have a patreon where I post all my stories at least 2 weeks prior to public posting, plus where I post a lot of WIP ebooks etc https://www.patreon.com/sisco

I've just published a new Novella available in both ebook and hardcopy (after a vote on twitter showed an overwhelming desire for a hardcopy to be available)

Amazon UK Ebook

Amazon UK Hard Copy

Amazon USA Ebook

Amazon USA hard copy

Smashwords version

My other novels and ebooks can also be found on Amazon and Smashwords

My UK Amazon Author's Page

My USA Amazon Author's page

My Smashwords Author's Page

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