Sorry, Just sorry.
I'm sorry, I had to write something bad and cheesy.
The wolf moaned, the feeling of that succulent muzzle on his red rocket made his heavy eggs jostle in their sac. His doe eyes glanced downwards, watching that muzzle slurp on his flesh like a girl finishing off a soft drink. Argon rested a paw on Selene's head fur, stroking the golden curls that flowed down her back like a field of wheat guiding her bobbing like a fish on a line. A steady stream of precum dribbled from his pulsing shaft like a leak in a dam. He knew he wouldn't last long, hearing those gulping sounds each time his shaft bottomed out in her cavernous muzzle.
A pair of bright eyes drew their icy gaze upwards, like sapphires filled with lust. Those cheeks sucked in, having the effect of drawing his shaft into her muzzle, like an emaciated hamster finally getting some nuts.
"If she keeps it up, she'll get that nut." Argon thought to himself, the roadmap of veins on his shaft, trembling with his arousal. He groaned out, bucking his hips as the softball at the base of his shaft swelled up. He had hit a home run with this girl from the club, not even three innings in and he'd gotten a muzzle job.
A moment later the wolf bucked his hips, spilling his molten jizz down the girl's throat, watching her throat bulge with each voluminous load she swallowed. His fingers tightened their grip on those cascading waves of amber honey. The smell of his manhood had flooded the air, nostrils flaring like a balloon being inflated.
Slurp that was the noise his cock made as it flopped from the girl's muzzle, flopping upwards to smack his belly. The male watched as the girl stood up, shedding her clothes like a hermit crab going to a new shell.
Every inch of her body was coated in a white fur, like the fluids that dripped from her wet muzzle. A slender paw drifted downwards, almost as if that paw was a slug looking to avoid a pile of salt. Selene's hand paused above her groin, that thatch of fur much thicker than anywhere on her body as she spoke up.
"Ready to venture into my jungle?" Argon licked his muzzle, the inside of his muzzle parched like the Sahara desert. He moved and knelt before her, like a worshipper at the throne of some decadent goddess. The scent of her pleasure palace was unlike anything he'd smelled before. A musk that wasn't there on girls who weren't of a bearing nature, preparing for young. The missile that had flopped against his belly launched to attention, almost as if it wanted to shoot off his body and into her target.
"Oh yes, I'm drooling like a hobo over a can of beans." Like a sponge soaking up a spill, he lapped at her furred gash. It was like an icicle on the first thaw, dripping those hot juices onto his muzzle and tongue, hot and thick tasting. Fish was how some drew their comparison of a woman; if that was the case start feeding this wolf sushi.
Paws gripped his ears, the female wolf's hips rocking slowly like a ship on the ocean. His own lifeboat was at full mast, his sails spread between his legs filled to the brim with a briny solution. Slowly his tongue dipped past into her crow's nest, wanting a chance to caress her quivering love chasm.
He couldn't handle it anymore, standing up with his thermometer ready to take a temperature. Gently he tosses Selene on the bed, watching as her flower blossomed from the heat of the need. A pink flush appears between those milky furred thighs, his own purple helmeted weapon ready to pluck those petals and plow that field.
"Ready to get fucked and stuffed like a turkey on thanksgiving?" Argon could only drool when Selene reached out, gripping his fuckpole like it was kryptonite to a man of steel, and she guided it inside her hall of justice.
"Do it, show me how a wolf will huff and puff and blow his load!" With that challenge to his virility, he couldn't dare let this wolf girl down! Argon slowly pushed into that baby oven, ignoring the fact he wasn't wearing a raincoat for his puppy maker. Paws gripped her thighs, lifting them out of the way, like trees being parted to make way for a civilized road to be paved.
Moans echoed in the room, like beasts of burden trying to achieve their work in the hot sun of pleasure. His puppy batter filled balls slapped against her rump, sounding like the thwack of a ping pong balls being swatted around. It had been some time since the wolf Argon had a female in heat, a state of intimate fertility with nature.
There was little to speak of, the grunts and moans being understood by the rutting pair. His knot had begun to swell, threatening to seal him in like the lid on a bottle of sex. Argon had tried to fight off that urge to come like a zombie invasion, but something changed that. Like floodlights being flicked on at night, his eyes went wide; a finger was probing against his regurgitating black hole of doom.
Like cars at a track, the shiver raced down his spine making his tail jerk up. Words filled his head, like dominos falling over to form a pattern.
"Do it you fucker, shoot your fuck juice into my aching clown car of a pussy!" A loud growl escaped Argon's muzzle, if she wanted a clown car in her pussy, he was going to flood her with puppies. Like a whoopee cushion, her pussy squealed when he thrust his bulging knot into her Bologna Flap-over. Lifting his head, he stared at the wall and let loose a volley of sperm, enough that even the Spartans would be able to hide in its shade.
To him, it seemed as if Selene's belly had grown from the sheer volume of the deposit he made in her nature's bin. The bar had born fruit that he had picked and paid for, now he was going to return something to its owner.
There were stuck long enough that if there was a TV in the bedroom, they would have watched a sitcom to pass that time. Once he had slipped free, there was a gurgling noise from that furred taco. Selene's paw had slid down and stroked herself; he could see that sour cream topping slowly dribbling out.
Argon got dressed, saying he'd be back after he'd gotten them some more of the potent potables they had ingested to get to this state. He'd snuck away from that responsibility like a ninja with a mission from the shogun. At this point, his sword had sheathed itself, not being drawn for its duty of destroying a geisha's flower.