Wolf in the Rectory - 1. Chapter 1

“How the hell did you get in here?” I looked up at the handsome young man who was watching me. He was upside down, carrying a soaked coat and dripped onto the carpet. “Using the front door seemed too easy did it?”

I watched him walk out of sight, before rolling onto my side. I was wet and cold too, and I had left a large wet puddle on the carpet.

“Are you coming?”

I followed the sound of his voice into the bathroom, where my host now stood wearing nothing but fitted black boxers with a towel over his head, scrubbing away at his blond hair. I stood and stared openly at him, delighting that my host was smooth shaven and beautiful, with strong thighs and nice tights abs. He dropped the towel and caught me looking. I grinned salaciously.

“You can wipe that look off your face.” He smirked, before dropping a fresh towel over me. I stood on the bath mat as he rubbed me dry, picking up each of my feet and scratching at my chest and belly. “All better.”

The young man gathered up his wet clothes and towels from the bath, hung the coat on the shower curtain rail, and I followed him into the kitchen.

“I’m Peter, by the way.” He loaded everything into the washing machine. “You’re still pretty damp there bud.”

I shrugged.

“I ‘spect we’re both a mess and could do with a decent comb.” He ran his fingers through his hair, trying to make it seem neater. “You want dinner first?”

I nodded.

Peter was right, and if I’d had any sense I would have skulked around until he got home and come in through the front door like any normal person. But I hadn’t. It had been hell travelling here during the day, trying to stay out of sight of any humans. The sensible choice would have been to stay in the other house, but I had wanted to get further away from the city. And then the rain had come down in buckets, soaking everything in sight and making all surfaces remarkably slick and annoying.

I had found the little house by scent alone, and every window had been locked tight against the weather. Apart, thankfully, from one on the first floor. I had climbed the brick wall, scrambled onto the flat, slippery roof of the shed and made the leap through the crack in the window, skinning my ankle as I did so. It wasn’t a real injury, and I had scars from plenty which had been much worse.

I flopped down on the sofa while my young host began to clatter about with pans and ingredients. Soon the little house was filled with the scent of things frying.

“You’re lucky.” Peter turned to watch me on the sofa, smiling as he shook the frying pan. “You get steak. If you’d come in yesterday I’d have only been able to offer you cheap sausages.” I raised a querying eyebrow. “I was treating myself for the weekend. Also, mam called and said you’d left and you might be heading here.” He scraped the pan a bit and poured in something which smelt like meat juices and fizzed before filing the room with a thick gamey aroma. “You want onion gravy?”

No, I did not.

He ate sitting at the breakfast bar and I ate standing. I had steak and plain gravy and chewed the cartilage and gristle between my back teeth; and he had his with bright green broccoli florets and a glass of wine. I missed cider, but drank my fill in water instead before licking my plate clean.

Afterwards I was surprised by how tired I was, and made my way back over to the sofa. Peter sat at the far end. Warm and sated, and finally dry, it would have been easy to go to sleep after the long day, but Peter took my ankle into his lap and pulled a little green medical kit out from under the coffee table.

“Let’s have a look at your foot. You didn’t think I’d noticed?” He frowned at me. “I’m not that bad a host. I wish you’d waited.” Peter began to dab at the broken skin with an antiseptic pad which stung and forced a small growl to issue from my throat. He put the wipe aside and began to wrap a clean white bandage around my leg. “Mam said to expect you, but she never said you were quite so… beautiful.”

I glanced at him, eyes narrowed, head on one side, pillowed against the corner of the sofa. He stroked the top of my foot with warm, strong fingers. No doubt he had seen his fair share of wounds too; Rectory Officer’s weren’t known to have the easiest lives. It was pleasant to lie there, warm and safe, and I was tired from travelling and breaking in, tired of running away. I wondered how long my host would let me stay. Peter turned his stereo on low, but it was hard to concentrate on the music, and I drifted off as he picked up a book, continuing to stroke my foot and bandaged ankle. I was too comfortable to stay awake, and dozed while Peter read.

Sometime later, I woke to find Peter alternating between stroking me, and shaking me gently. It was dark out, and not just the dreary gloom of rain, but properly night time. For half a second I panicked, thinking he would make me leave, but one look told me that the boy was as sleepy and soft as I was, and neither of us was going to be going very far at all.

“It’s late bud. Bed time, come on.”

I followed him without thinking. Peter brushed his teeth in the little bathroom and turned the quilt down on the bed. I watched him, half dreaming, as he got undressed, sleepily appreciative of the strong clean lines of his torso vanishing into his boxers, and the delightful bulge therein. He left his clothes in a puddle and climbed in. I waited, blinking to clear my mind of lust hazed fog, for him to get comfortable, before I slunk up under the covers and curled into a ball. I wasn’t really awake, and it was easy to fall back into a deep sleep.

I woke sometime later in the early hours of the morning, far too early to be properly awake after the long day I had experienced, and stretched out my new body. I rolled to find Peter awake, and watching me with shining eyes.

“Hey.”

I yawned, bringing my hand up to cover my mouth. My jaw no longer creaked, and I was suddenly shiveringly cold without fur. Peter pulled the quilt up higher around my shoulders.

“Your bed is very comfy. Thank you.”

“Thanks.” Peter reached out and stroked the side of my jaw. My hair was completely disarrayed after the day of running, rain and resulting change. “You really are beautiful.”

“Umm…” I blushed. I did not often get called beautiful, regardless of what shape I was in. Handsome, striking sometimes; but permanent stubble, dark eyes and the slightly rangy sort of look one got from not eating many regular meals did not generally cause me to be called beautiful, especially not by gorgeous young hunks with chiselled abs and damp pink lips.

“Mam never told me your name.”

“James.”

“A werewolf called James? A bit incongruous isn’t it?”

“Sure,” I replied, shifting slightly closer to him, “‘cause ‘Peter’ is such a cool name for a Rectory Officer.”

Peter laughed, a small rather breathless chuckle, and began to blush when I ran a hand up his arm. I could feel his warmth, even though we were barely touching, and the heat which emanated from his crotch.

“You’re naked.”

“That happens.” I raised an eyebrow. I wanted to say ‘Maybe you should be naked too’ but I resisted.

“You never actually said the words you know.” Peter smiled softly, his cheeks pink and his eyes sparkling with lust.

“I was sort of incapacitated.” I pushed closer to him, getting my head onto his pillow, pulling him closer to my new body. He was already responding to me, and I could hear his heartbeat increase with my presence.

“Say it.” He demanded. His voice was husky and low, full of tones that made me ache. I had been a wolf for a whole week, and alone before that for a lot longer. I wanted him. He closed the distance between us, less than inches between our lips, foreheads nearly touching. I growled low as the bulge of his boxers touched me. “Say it.”

“Sanctuary.” I smiled, tilting my head to kiss him, feeling the phantom wag of my long-gone tail. “I claim sanctuary.”

“Unnngh…” He groaned against me, and I moved closer, rolling him onto his back. I pressed flush against him, pushing the length of my aching cock against his crotch and abdomen. It would’ve been an excellent time to use the rhetorical phrase in my head.

“Maybe you should wear fewer clothes in bed, officer.” I grinned, pulling back just enough to be able to look down at him. He was flushed pink and panting softly. I wriggled against him, and then jumped up onto all fours.

“James…” He began, but I decided not to listen, and started to strip him of his boxers with my teeth. His dick was hard and hot against my jaw, springing up as it was released from the fabric. I tossed his underwear to the floor.

There were a lot of things I loved about being a werewolf: the running, the hunting, and calling into the deep woods and having them call back, being able to scent prey on the wind, the excellent metabolism… but more than any of that, I missed having sex as a man. Having sex in a wolf body was complicated, messy and not entirely comfortable, and of course, there was nothing quite like looking up at seven inches of quivering muscle and knowing you actually could wrap your lips around it.

Peter’s cock was pink flushing to a purplish red at the tip, and I wrapped my hands around his hips, pinning him to the mattress as I kissed my way up the underside of his shaft. He moaned, head thrown back in the pillows, as I engulfed the head of his cock and slid my lips down the length.

“Ugh… fuck!” I leant up on my elbows, grinning at him. “Don’t stop!” I arched an eyebrow. “Please… J-James…”

“Since you asked so nicely…” I couldn’t help but laugh breathlessly, because Peter wasn’t the only one getting a bit over excited. I watched his face as I swallowed him down, not stopping until his length bumped the back of my throat. He tasted musky and clean, all man and the after effects of soap, and I groaned in my chest to have him fill up all of my senses. When his fingers wove into my hair I released his cock and he gasped as the wet length of muscle slapped against his tight abdomen. I sat up and stared at him.

Peter was watching me back with wide eyes and wet lips, his chest heaving.

“You might just be hotter than the inside of the sun.” I leant into his hand, the automatic canine desire to be petted and stroked. “Can I touch you?”

“Oh dear god yes.” I shifted my hips, ending up sitting pretty much in Peter’s lap. “So you do this with all your charges officer?”

“No!” He tensed, shaking his head. “I don’t, I mean, I wouldn’t-!”

“Whoa there bud.” I bent over double to kiss his smooth chest. “I’m just teasing.” I ran my hand up his arm and took his chin between thumb and forefinger. “Look at me, its fine.” I kissed him again, gently, softly, the damp press of lips against each other. I touched his mouth with the tip of my tongue, and I felt him relax, dissolving into the shape of the bed underneath me. Peter opened up, warm and wet, and then it was my turn to groan as he ran his fingers up through my hair, dragging across the back of my skull. I growled low and melted against his chest.

“Why are you so warm?”

“It’s a wolf thing.” Peter started kissing down my throat and I nearly purred against him. “It’s been a while since…”

“That’s OK.” Something had given my host back his confidence, because I found his hands roaming down my back, squeezing the flesh of my butt. He ground against me and I could feel his pulse throbbing through my own aching erection. “You’re so beautiful.”

I pushed a hand between our bodies and stroked his hard flesh with an open palm. It had been longer than I cared to think of since the last time I had gotten this lucky, and I knew what followed was going to hurt. I rocked my hips against Peter and pulled away far enough to be placed back in his lap. He took my hips and I shuffled forwards.

“You alright James?” Peter cupped his hands under my ass, kneading in a way that made me shiver all over with desire and lust. “Fuck, but I want you.”

“Take me then.” I balanced myself over him, fingers digging into the mattress.

Breathe… Peter had a hand on my hip, another wrapped around the base of his cock as I sank down. The pressure of his cock-head against me made me snarl and grit my teeth. I kept pushing as pressure became pain and he slid into my body with a low groan of ecstasy. For a long moment, we were both still, and I could feel his heartbeat, taste the essence of him through our contact. Only then did I remember to keep breathing. Pain is a strange thing, and can make a werewolf body react in odd ways, and the last thing I wanted to do was end up shedding skin on the man beneath and inside me.

“Ungh…” My sphincter was spasming around his girth, and I gripped his torso with my knees, praying silently that he would stay still and give me time to adjust. I did not want to wolf out now.

“James?”

I exhaled slowly, and sank the rest of the way down over his hips.

“I’m good.”

“Hey…” Peter reached up and stroked my jaw. “Relax babe.”

I only realised how hard I was gripping him when I let go. Poor kid was going to have bruises in the morning. It had been way too long since I had felt another man’s pulse inside me, and Peter filled me up in a way that made it hard to draw breath. I steadied myself with a palm over his heart.

“Oh good gods you’re hot.”

I grinned in a self-satisfied manner, and lifted myself away from the warmth of his hard body, feeling his length gripped by my tight ring, strangely desperate not to let him go now that we were locked together.

You could screw him in your fur… and then you’d really be locked together… I shuddered internally and groaned as Peter began to guide my pelvis back down. It felt so good to be filled by him, my body wrapping tight around his cock as he began to thrust in and out of me at a torturously slow pace. I rocked against him, meeting his thrusts, and tilting my ass until the smooth head of his cock rubbed against my prostrate.

“Ahh…” I whimpered, shuddering as Peter snapped his hips up more forcefully. “Fuck, that’s good.”

“Ha…” Peter was panting, sweat beading on his skin. He was hotter where I touched him, and I radiated like the sun. “Ngh... James!”

I set my fists onto the mattress by his ribs and tensed as he began to pound up into me. We were both wet and slick by now, unable to form anything approaching actual sentences as our hearts hammered in my ears. It was all I could hear in between panting breaths and the thunder of lust and desire in my skull. He rammed into me ever harder, his hips moving faster as he thrust his long cock into the soft heat of my body. I could feel his heart racing to keep up with what his body wanted, and I knew the moment he reached the point of no return. My own cock bobbed between us, aching with the ecstasy which rocketed through my system as he rubbed against my pleasure centre with every thrust.

“James… J-James!” Peter moved his hands from my hips, wrapping around the back of my skull. Our teeth clashed when we kissed, and it changed the angle of our entwined bodies enough to keep my erection pinned between his abs and mine as he nailed me.

I snarled, my orgasm building somewhere back in the pit of my stomach, and I grabbed at the mattress. We both froze at the ripping noise of fingernails rending fabric and foam.

“We can fix that right?”

“Sure.” Peter gasped, the motion of his hips faltering. “We can fix it.”

“Good.” I kissed him, hard, and Peter replied by slamming his hips up against me. “Ungh!”

We rocked together, silent but for panting, until Peter went stiff as a board, every muscle tense and straining and he pounded into me hard enough to break through concrete. I growled when I came, my cum splattering over both our heaving torsos as Peter flooded me with wet heat. I blinked as my vision cleared to find him smiling up at me, looking dreamy and soft.

I exhaled, then remembered to breathe again, and grinned.

“You’re amazing.”

“Thanks.” Peter grinned. “You are too.”

“Sorry about the bed.”

“We’ll work it out.”

I finally lost the strength to stay upright, and fell sideways onto the bed. Peter groaned as his flagging member was exposed to the suddenly cold air. I snuggled into his side, and found his arm wrapped over my shoulders.

“This is nice.” I burrowed slightly more into the crook of his shoulder and chest and wished I had a tail to wrap around my feet. Peter found the quilt and dragged it up over the mess we’d made.

“You realise the Rectory Office budgets don’t allow for buying a new mattress every week right?”

“I’ll learn.” I grinned at him, and kissed his collarbone. “Werewolves are really very trainable.”

“Oh really?” Peter arched an eyebrow, his fingers already in my hair, eliciting a happy rumble of contentment. “I never knew that. Goodnight James…”

I wanted to say something back, mention how I enjoyed being woken up by hot guys with hard-ons, but I was too tired, and fell asleep.

He woke me with a blow job. That worked too.