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untitled (dream/jinx)

Osheaga

Supernova
Joined
Jan 9, 2009
Location
Nova Scotia


      • Despite the proper, proud facade Deacon put on for the world, he was just like any other lycan - feral, bestial and with little to no regard for human law. While he did not regard himself as anyone with authority, other lycans did. It was his mass that appointed him a true physical menace. His strong, unwavering body was often described to be modeled after a powerful grizzly bear. The tight muscle woven intricately that formed his broad, dense chest, and the detailed scars that traveled up his forearms and abdomen that told stories of past battles, some won, some lost. Unlike his sister - a feeble human being - he was a lycan, a child bore from the blood of the moon. Needless to say this didn't mean that he didn't care dearly for his younger sibling, he just needed to be wary around her. Deacon had never told his sister of his new racial status. In fact, the subject of lycans, vampires and all of those other fascinating fantasy elements were labeled as taboo in this particular town. If one were utter the cadence werewolf they would be socially shunned.

        Someway, somehow, Deacon wanted to share his secret with his sister. Just how to go about it was the tricky part. How would she react? Frightened? Accepting? It was against lycan law to reveal themselves to a human-being but Deacon felt this situation was entirely different. He thought he would hint at it; gradually butter her up and cajole her into his world then ever so prudently share his life long deep, dark secret. While his sister was one of the subject weighing heavy on his mind, another was sex. Sex, sex, sex. It was a taboo subject for him, specifically because he was homosexual. Such a grand, majestic man batting for the other team. Often his packmates would chide and taunt him for his sexual orientation but Deacon learned to bite the bullet. He'd grin, bare it, and sit through the night knocking back a few beers and over-cooked hot wings.

        But it was this particular night he laid aside his sexual frustrations and invited over his sister, Estelle, for the evening. The entire house was filled to the brim with intoxicated, horny lycans (an elite handful were perfectly sober and not-so-randy) just begging for a good fuck, but with Deacon's sister's presence in their household they knew just how to keep their throbbing cocks in their pants and act as gentlemen. They'd seen her before ... a stunning specimen, tall and curvaceous, a healthy woman. Her eyes reminded them of dull yet translucent jade emeralds and she had a mane like a lion's - thick, long, illustrious. She was foreign, South American like her brother and a top of the need-to-be-fucked list in the pack household. This was the precise reason Deacon didn't spend much time in the hovel. If these silly little 'lists' existed then there was no doubt immature discrepancies within the villa.

        The house itself was neat and tidy, prepared for a guest visit, but this didn't stop some of the boys from having their 'fun'. A throng of young lycans - no older then nineteen - were all huddled in the basement taking unhealthy puffs from a blunt they stole from Deacon who claimed to have a stash purely for 'medicinal purposes'. Lycans, over the years, had adapted to modern human culture and began following the same trends they did. Drugs, the video game phenomenon and even clothing, though more traditional lycans such as Deacon preferred the loose fitting tunic and sweatpants. The tan-skinned monster paced around the corridor on the lower portion of the house, anxiously scrubbing the scruff of his skin, tickling sensitive nerve endings in his fingertips with his sandpapery jawline. There was one particularl lycan - someone relatively new and unfailingly civilized - he felt he could count on to help him keep things in order, lest Estelle be subjected to the grimy dimension that was a lycans' den.[/list:u][/list:u][/list:u]
 
The night was young and even if the house had a visitor, one they must act all nice and normal around, Wesley and Basil were.. not on their best behavior. The two were lycans, and had been for a long time. They considered themselves brothers.. people from outside of the pack even assumed so on more then one occasion. But they weren't together tonight. as they usually were. Some situations just did not call for it.. especially when Basil 'entertained' others. You see, the two were so close, yet they didn't share similar sexualities. Basil was openly attracted to men while Wesley preferred the ladies ten fold. So, as soon as Basil slunk up the stairs, a man his age in tow, Wesley went off to do his own thing.

He was a calm man on the outside. Rarely did he show expression on his handsome face.. He preferred to leave people guessing. His 'i'm shrouded in mystery' appearance got the girls flocking like flies. Dark, ink black locks were styled short and messy atop his head, slicked back a certain degree. He had skinny side burns trailing down the sides of his face. When he was human, he used to had to wear glasses.. but now, his bright green eyes were way past twenty/twenty. That night they had locked onto a pretty young thing. Being a beast of a creature, there were few things on his mind other then getting into someone pants. Sometimes he even made a game of it, challenging himself to how long it would take before he had a woman underneath him. Yes, he had quite the ego from time to time. Back to that lady he set his sights on.. things were going well. He had set his goal for under twenty minutes. It took him ten to discover that piece of ass was well taken.. and he found out in the form of a punch to the face.

Now, a calm, collected lad like himself might shake this off. Be the better man. But under that gentlemen's coat was a seriously twisted sadist. He had grabbed the other man's shirt then dragged him out the nearest door. There was some noise, and it got louder as the fight got more violent.. but it was over quick. Wesley had grabbed the smaller man, three inches shorter then his six foot even frame, gripped the back of his head.. then slammed his forehead into the side of the house. And that, as they say, was that, and he came strolling back into the house, nothing but a little blood smear on his shirt as the evidence.

As for Basil? Mentioned before, he'd gotten lucky early on, and this man didn't have a protective boyfriend to take him out. So he grabbed the guy's sleeve and dragged him upstairs, one thing on their minds. The only problem he had with getting into peoples pants was the fact those pants were always in the men's sizes. He was a looker, most lycans were, for some reason or another. He had golden blonde hair, it almost fell to his shoulders, curling in around his chin. Sometimes he kept it pulled into a pony tail, or clipped his bangs out of his baby brown eyes. His face was paler then most, and when out in the sun, his freckles shown on his cheeks and shoulders.. and other parts that don't see the sun that often.

The door had been locked, and it wasn't long before the deed was done.. of course there was loud, passionate cries inbetween, but it wasn't a long, drawn out affair. A quick fuck against the wall, because he wanted to be nice and not mess up the bed. The door open and he and the man parted way, each going to a different end of the hall, both satisfied. Basil was deshelved, button his shirt as he walked, then running his fingers through his hair so he didn't look as if he had just been pounced upon. He headed down the stairs, licking his lips to taste some of the essence of his soon to be forgotten lover.​
 


      • It was those exact same cries that made Deacon's staying in the forest-ridden vista harder and harder. The walls between rooms were outlandishly thin. Each grunt, slap and howl could be heard clear through the drywall. Of course the twenty-five year old, over-sized man was doing your typical male-oriented activity, watching sports, until he realized the time. Bright, bold red letters read 5:15pm on the digital clock aside his bed. Estelle was due over around 5:30. His chocolate brown eyes went wide; he scrambled forward for his t-shirt on his bed, but stumbled, and hit the scuffed wood floor with a sickening thud. Things just didn't seem to be going well for him today. After lying on the floor in complete dismay for two minutes, the hulking man climbed to his feet, fetched his top and skittered out of his tidy chamber. The hallway was relatively clean save for a few food stains here and there, and the laundry basket had to be taken to the basement ... but who was he to complain?

        "Basil." Deacon's deep, stark voice fled his mouth much like a bark. "Basil," he commanded again, curling his fingers and wrapping loudly at the lycan's room door. After a period of time the lycan finally adhered to Deacon's behest and pried the door ajar. "10 minutes," Deacon warned. Of course he was referring to the amount of time before his sister came. She was a frightening woman, tall and illustrious, but her eyes ... physically and mentally, they were torturous. "Please ... no more of those fast boys while she's here." Deacon rarely spoke, but when he did, it was a majestic happening indeed. The pleading tone of his velveteen voice could possibly even make Wesley weep ... given the right incentive, of course.

        Meanwhile, Deacon's guest had already arrived. Much to his dismay she was curled up all snug on the couch aside two other large-sized lycans who were all too happy telling their 'horror' stories about fights, and explaining the gory detail of their war wounds. Of course, the men were hounding over Deacon's little sister. She was a true, genuine woman, tall and curvaceous. Her bust was plump as plump could be while her complexion was left naturally bronzed no thanks to her Brazilian roots. "Estelle?" Deacon breathed curtly, sliding his grey snowboarding toque from his shaggy black mop. As the woman turned her head, her tempest beryl eyes bore into her brother's face while her lion's mane fell from grace and framed her soft yet mature facial features. Much to Deacon's chagrin, a beer was already curled tight in her manicured claws. "Do I get a hug?" he pressed, but of course, he had to come to her for an embrace. She knelt up on the couch and gave her brother a loving embrace, skillfully balancing her beer in her hand while she hooked her forearm around his neck.

        "I missed you," he hummed sweetly. "I haven't seen you in years ... you've grown over a foot," Estelle said in reply. Her voice was like her brothers but feminine. Softer, lighter, but it held immense authority and even a slight foreign twinge. "I have some friends I'd like you too meet, aside from those two over there, "he jested, "Basil and ... Wesley, but I don't even know if he's here anymore."[/list:u][/list:u][/list:u]
 
Basil wasn't surprised to see Deacon as soon as he opened the door. He knew, on the subject of his sister, the other lycan tended to act a little.. well, insane. He couldn't blame them, they were a bunch of bloodthirsty, horny animals. What he'd heard of the woman was that she was quite a catch. But, dammit, he wasn't a threat. Leave him and his quickies alone. "Oh, please, you're making her out to be some innocent virgin." he rolled his eyes. Just how good was Deacon expecting him to act? A handsome smile, polite chat, tasteful conversation? He might could get one out of him, but the younger, smaller lycan thought it'd be more interesting to see just how much vulgarity this girl was accustomed to. Then maybe Deacon would get the courage to spill the beans about what he was and stop with this charade.

He gave up on his buttons, only realizing after he'd buttoned the last one that they were a little uneven. That's as good as it was going to get. He went down the stairs after the larger male, stopping a few from the bottom to peer into the living room. Hah, not five minutes and the poor gal was being hit on. "Heathens." Basil snickered at the two, then stepped the rest of the way down. 'They do look alike.' he thought to himself as he looked her over. At the mention of his name, he tuned back in to Deacon just in time to catch Wesley's as well. "Oh, he's still here. Some where." he assumed, anyway. Then, walking next to Deacon, he gave him a hip bump to move him. "Nice to meet you, Estelle. I'm Basil." he held out his hand, and gave that handsome smile. There, there was his good deed for the day. "/Wesley! C'mere!/" the sweetness in his voice was lost as he called out harshly.

His companion could have heard that even if he was still outside. Instead, he was at the sink, cleaning his hands so they wouldn't stain red. "Hold on." he called calmly, scrubbing at them with soap. After that, he dried them, and rolled his sleeves down. He knew exactly what he was being called for. He, however, intended to respect Deacon's request to act some what civil. There was a slight problem. He checked the little red specks of blood on his shirt and clicked his tongue. "I'll just pull it off as ketchup.. no, no.. then I'll come off as a slob." he was talking to himself again. Not his best quality. He shrugged. Too late to change.. maybe she wont notice. Or ask. Even though it hurt to know he'd be meeting a lady for the first time and not look his best. Not that he had much chances with her.. he figured her brother to be the protective type.

He headed to meet them in the living room, just finishing rolling his sleeves the rest of the way down. "Ah, isn't she a little early?" he muttered, eye already looking her over just as his friend had done before. And, oh, did he like what he saw. Not that he was /expecting/ her to be unattractive. But not this /attractive/, either. He tried his best not to make it obvious he was checking her out, but by the snickering he could hear from Basil, it was too late. "So, you're the one he's been talking about. Nice to finally meet you." Wesley glanced to Deacon, chuckling also. "He's talked about you for a while.. we were beginning to think he made you up." he teased, then looked back to the lady, then her beer. Why had he not gotten one yet?​
 


      • Innocent? Estelle certainly was innocent. And a virgin? Well, Deacon tried his best not to fathom it. She was twenty-three years old and previously engaged to a rather strapping young man. She, herself, was extremely attractive, and if she lived anything like him, well, she definitely wasn't a virgin. He nervously rubbed his head, closing his eyes and grunting. Only Basil would put such an irritating - and disturbing - thought in his head. After both Basil and Estelle exchanged their friendly hellos, Deacon began to explain, "She'll be staying the night tonight, so you guys try not to keep her up all night, alright?"

        From the both the kitchen and basement he heard mocking howls. "Don't worry, Deacon! We won't do nothin'!" Suddenly the man felt as if his whole life was flashing through his eyes. This night would be long, tiring and stressful ... and to make issues far more worse, he was experiencing immense changes in his libido lately. He couldn't entertain his sister and simultaneously suppress urges of masturbation. Hell, he was so sexually frusterated he was in the right mind to ask Basil for a handjob and leave it at that! Despite the two being openly homosexual, they never had sexual relations.

        "Basil ... I can trust you to keep them off of her for tonight, right?"

        "You needn't assign me a bodyguard, Deacon." He was thrown aback by her interruption, but alas, it was to be expected. After shaking Basil's hand she stood to address her elder brother, beer still curled tight in her manicured claws. She quickly glanced off towards Wesley who had appeared quite casually, eying her frothy beer much like a starving, emaciated lion would a thick slab of salted venison. "I assure you, I'm very real." The profound tone in her sweet, low tone summoned two lycans from the basement. They crowded around the couch where their guest had been, introducing themselves and welcoming her. "Alright guys, she's not an exhibit," Deacon grunted protectively. He shuffled towards her but Estelle did the opposite and stepped back.

        The monster sighed in defeat. "So ... are you hungry, or anything?" He hoped she would answer quickly so he could go bury himself in his bed and find some way to deal with his raging sex drive.
        [/list:u][/list:u][/list:u]
 
The house itself was full of all kinds of wolves. To a new guest, it would probably appear that they were coming out of the wood work. In truth, however, only a few were permanent members of the house hold. A lot of them went in and out, staying here and there with other groups of their kind. At the two newest, Wesley wanted to turn up his over sensitive nose. They reeked of hash. But, they also had booze, so. He walked over and promptly stole an already opened can from one, ignoring the protest he got. "Yes, boys, control yourself." he had a calm tone as well, but anyone who had been around him long enough knew he was one not to mess with. That calmness hid some blood lust.

"Yes, Deacon, she doesn't need a bodyguard. Just some tips." Basil cut in and strolled past him, right up to her again. With all the casualness in the world, he put an arm around her and leaned in to her ear. "They're all nice guys, but they have some problems keeping it in there pants." he whispered, a smirk on his lips. "Just make sure they know you're not a push over and they should behave. If not, smack 'em on the nose." he backed off after that, retreating beside Wesley.

"You could have scored me some points, you know." he muttered, eying his good friend. Basil shrugged and stole his stolen beer, taking a sip for himself. "You've never needed help getting laid before." he added and returned the beverage. Then he hopped up on the couch and stood, stepping on one guy in the process. "You heard the man, go fix her something to eat. She's the guest." he ordered and a few obeyed, shuffling off to the kitchen, probably thinking they could impress her this way. Basil grinned and gave a thumbs up to Deacon, successfully thinning the crowd. Wesley rolled his eyes and stayed put. He knew better then to go in there now.. they'd probably start fighting about who got to bring it out.​
 


      • While Deacon found Basil's attempt at thinning the ground quite reassuring, it didn't do much to sate his sexual desire. He rolled his sweet, chocolate eyes and nearly ambled up the stairwell, awkwardly in fact, trying not to disturb his raging erection. When he arrived upstairs, he cantered into his room, slammed the door tight and launched himself in his lazyboi chair. The smooth, leather material soothed his burning flesh. "Jesus," he grunted, almost violently unbuttoning his denim jeans and jerking awkwardly at the zipper. He could feel his blood rush southward, so quickly that it made his head feel light. A low, sweet shudder fell from the grace of his lips while he allowed his right hand to wander beyond the seams of his cotton boxers, venturing further and further, until his voice caught in his through.

        He thrust his hips upward instantaneously, curling his calloused fingers around his tumid manhood only to tease himself in his paw's wake. He wriggled pleasantly at the sensation, rolled his hips up one last time and sank his dense body into the confinements of his chair where he freed his painfully hard erection from the confinements of his boxers. "Ughn ... I shouldn't have waited this long."

        Meanwhile, the scramble to cater to Deacon's gorgeous younger sister Estelle had begun. While she wasn't entirely comfortable having men serve her in such a manner, she was in no position to tell them no. That and Basil's very wise opinion had rattled within her complex mind. The curvaceous woman took a swig of her beer, climbed up from her position on the couch and swayed over past Wesley who seemed particularly transfixed on the notion of a beer or two. "Excuse me," she whispered lowly, cantering towards the kitchen where some of the young men had fled too. She addressed the fridge (Deacon told her to make herself at home) and plucked another beer from its frigid confinements.

        While Estelle realized this sort of environment wasn't entirely her 'scene', per se, she felt comfortable, though she had absolutely no clue she was in a house full of lycans. She then retreated to the door where her bags were, collected them, and trekked towards the stairwell where she was greeted by a throng of quite handsome young men. "Can we carry those for you?" they hummed. Estelle smiled every so gingerly and passed them, merely one step ahead. "That's not necessary, I'm capable of carrying them myself. But if one of you could show me to the guest room I'd quite appreciate it."[/list:u][/list:u][/list:u]
 
The dogs were arguing, loudly, already. What to fix, what to put on it, fighting over who gets to use what. By the time they were finished, no telling what concoction they might have come up with..
Chuckling at the idiots, Basil stepped down from the couch just as Deacon left up the stairs. He found this a little unusual.. wouldn't he rather stay and loom over his sister? He'd shown a little protectiveness already, so why was he darting away like he had some other occupation to attend? Curious, he abandoned the living room and strolled up after him. As soon as he hit the hallway, he made a bee line for the other Lycan's room.. and only a few feet from the door, his nose caught the scent of a very interesting answer. He smirked and narrowed his eyes.

'Oh, Deacon. You poor thing.. how long have you been hiding that, I wonder?' he thought to himself then pressed an ear to the door, just in time to hear a zipper coming down. He licked his lips and found himself picturing the act on the other side of the door.. dammit, now it was starting to get to him. '..Though it worries me that you got so turned on in the presence of your sister. Wonder if you've got some secret fetish.. that, or you're just a horndog like the rest of us.' he snickered to himself, then knocked at the door. He listened closely for the scrambling he was sure would be taking place next. "Deacon, you okay in there?" he called out, a playful tone to his voice.

Wesley watched his fellow lycans act like idiots. All to impress a single woman. Sure, she was a very, very stunning lady.. in his top five, certainly. But was she worth all this? How long had it been since these guys had last gotten laid? He shook his head and debated on stepping out of the race this time.. let someone else win.. but, then again, he was a selfish prick. He tripped one guy up as he went to the door, making it seem like an accident and stepping over him with little remorse.

Before anyone else could offer, his chilling voice cut right in. "I'd be happy to." he volunteered, crushing the empty can of beer in his hand, then tossing it over his shoulder to hit another guy on the head. He motioned to the stairs then started up them, stopping a few up to look back at her. "We have two.. but I think Deacon preferred you take the one at the end of the hall. You'd get more sleep that way." that was a lie, actually. They were both pretty quiet, but the one he mentioned was much closer to his own room. Quite sneaky, hm?​
 


      • Between the time it took Basil to travel up the stairs and investigate Deacon's sudden appearance, the behemoth of a man was already lost in the fluid motions of his rough hands. He was stroking, slow at first, but gradually gained speed. He every so prudently craned his head back and closed his chocolate eyes, thrusting his hips up and down according to the behest of his skilled hand. It was when his chest began expanding and contracting noticeably that he realized no one could make him stop. Even if his sister walked in he feared he couldn't cease pleasuring himself and the thought haunted him. He began increasing his pace again, toying with his tumid crown, then squeezing his shaft. "Jesus," he breathed curtly, suckling on the spongy material of his inner cheek. Much to the beast's chagrin Basil had been pounding on the door, no doubt craving entrance. Deacon wondered if this little activity he had indulged in was apparent ... after all, Basil always seemed to magically appear when Deacon had his hands down his pants "I'm ... uhn ... I'm fine." The depth of his gravely voice no doubt shook the very foundation of the house. He rolled his hips up into his hand, sourly regretting the lack of control he displayed in his reply.

        The Amazonian Brazilian woman hadn't really taken notice of the squabble behind her, but rather, was more transfixed on getting settled. As Wesley had so kindly offered to escort her to her quarters, she nodded gingerly in reply and followed behind the average sized like. The lights in the hallway were low, and this particular wing of the vista was very, very quaint. It smelled relatively fresh and orderly unlike the middle level which wreaked of wet fur, sex and weed. "I don't mind noises or any similar discrepancies ... they can be soothing. Anyone who can function on pure peace is surely a subject worth studying in my books." After arriving, she let the door swing ajar, to reveal a rather natural looking bed room. The bed was a twin, dressed with a thick black comforter and oversized white pillows. Everything was in order - the television, the dresser and computer desk. She placed her bags on the bed and peered out of the window, greeted by darkness ... but something else was there. It was a smooth silhouette of garbled brown which had jetted by at virtual lightspeed. Did they have a dog? Deacon never mentioned a dog. "Thanks again. Wesley, right? I appreciate it."[/list:u][/list:u][/list:u]
 
Basil kept his ear pressed to the door, listening at the sounds he heard. His nose was better then his hearing, but both were greater then any average human's. He was a little surprised when he didn't hear Deacon stand.. or even stop, apparently. Was he that into what he was doing? "Fine, hm?" he muttered. Yes, jacking off did seem like a fine activity. There was no doubt in his mind that's what the other was doing, too. The arousal coming from the room was working it's magic on him, like a sort of aphrodisiac.. He inhaled deeply. "Your sister is fine. I believe I heard Wesley volunteering to show her to her room before I came up here." he wondered if this news would settle bad with Deacon.. probably what he was intending, anyway. "They look kinda cute together." he teased, then leaned against the door and didn't speak for a short moment. Just listened and thought. "...You know, I /could/ help you with that." he finally said, assuming the larger male would know exactly what he was referring to.

The lycan led this human beauty to the end of the hallway, stepping aside to let her get in herself. He would have opened it for her, but she seemed like the independent type. Nothing wrong with that. "Oh, don't get me wrong. There is /rarely/ any peace around here to speak of." a very true statement right there. The house was full of a bunch of wild dogs. He couldn't remember the last quiet night at this house. "You're welcome. The closest bathroom is three doors down. Your brother's room his down the other hall way.. second door, if I remember right.. And mine is right there." he pointed just a door away, then walked a further in the room. He saw her looking out the window and narrowed her eyes a bit. "..Oh. And there's some.. wild dogs around here. They wont bother you as long as you don't bother them." for the most part, anyway. But he didn't want to worry the lass.​
 


      • If there was any way to get him out of the "mood", mentioning Wesley and his sister in the same breath was most certainly a manner in which to do so. Now, Deacon didn't hate Wesley or anything, he just knew that he was a lascivious young lycan who was devoted to getting laid as much as possible. Of course this was typical for a male lycan, but the fact that Wesley didn't really particularly cherish the act of love making that irked him.

        "Fuck off, Basil!" he hissed. As much as it pained him, he very, very prudently tucked his agonizing erection back within his boxers and pulled up his jeans, wincing all the while. Deacon knew better then anyone that Basil wouldn't dare leave until his intrigue was sated. Often his 'intrigue' entitled getting his rocks off. Mind you, Deacon wasn't all too ready to help him do so. While trekking to the door he cupped the silhouette of his manhood through his jeans while making a futile attempt to sooth the welled up burning sensation that raked through his lower half.

        He swung open the door with such a beastly force it nearly was ripped from its hinges. So, there was the lovely, tan-skinned man in all of his tattooed glory, hot, bothered and one-hundred percent topless. "I can't get laid, I can't jerk off in peace ... Jesus Basil, what do you want from me?"


        Stray dogs? Estelle recalled one time a few years ago when her brother was privately dating this rather strapping Australian man. They were both giants, and at the time, Deacon hadn't yet revealed his sexual orientation to her though she had always known he preferred to bat for the other team. When the man left early the next morning (she was supposedly sleeping but heard every single pant, grunt and moan through the thin drywall) there was a strange air about the house. Around 3am she cantered downstairs only to notice a stark silhouette perched erect outside of her home. It was grand with a pair of piercing, flaxen eyes, but the moment it saw her ... it was gone. She kept it to herself as she feared Deacon would think she was clinically insane.

        "Thank you, Wesley," she breathed sweetly again, giving the man a prudent smile. She rubbed her neck, craning it, allowing a mess of her illustrious coal waves to spill around her broad shoulders and rest upon her full, swollen breasts. She approached her bag and curled her fingers around the zipper, jerking out some seemingly brand new DVD cases. Each of them were horror titles. Before arriving Deacon suggested she bring some horror movies to impress the boys (though she had no plan on impressing them, just keeping them entertained).

        "Deacon told you me you all are big fans of horror movies. I've got virtually everything, pick your poison: creature features, psychological thrillers, slasher ..."[/list:u][/list:u][/list:u]
 
That's probably what Basil was planning from the start. Mention his sister to draw him out of his room, and his pants. He felt a little bad about ratting Wesley out, but hey, all was fair in sex and war. Er, love and war. Right. He waited patiently at the door for the other wolf to emerge now.. he could hear him standing and pulling his pants up this time.

He tapped his foot as he waited.. but wasn't all too prepared for when the door swung open and revealed a rather.. yummy image. Though a bit pissed off. Basil smiled sweetly up at the much taller manbeast, not the least bit intimidated. He probably had more control over the situation at the moment, anyway. "Such a sad story, Deacon.." he muttered, moving closer to the other lycan. The smell of arousal had more then doubled now.. he inhaled again, then looked up at him, eyes purposefully half lidded.

Basil placed a hand on Deacon's bare chest, trailing his fingers down over muscles, tracing any tattoos he might find. "What do I want? Well, I was looking at it as what /you/ wanted, actually... Do you really prefer your hand over another person's touch?" his own hand had trailed even further down, right to the waistband of Deacon's straining pants. "If the answer is 'yes', I'll leave right now."


Wesley tried not to stare, he really did. A man's eyes tended to focus on certain areas of a woman.. and got them in trouble. This guy prided himself in his self control. But dammit, this woman's features were just.. well.. very tempting. He had to force his eyes off of her and to what she was currently occupied with. He blinked, then moved closer to inspect the DVDs. They'd make nice distractions. Give the dogs something to do other then try and swoon the new lady of the house.

The lycan plucked one title out of the collection, eying it over. A werewolf flick. He snickered to himself. The lycans always viewed them not for the horror, but more as a comedy of just what humans could come up with about them. Some could be surprisingly accurate.. others, a little insulting. "You've got a very nice collection here.. are you a fan of them, too, or was this all simply on your brother's request?"​
 


      • What sort of question was that? Of course he preferred another's touch over his own. He heaved a rather disgruntled grunt and peered down the hallway only to be shocked with the image of two young lycans cantering up the stairwell and homing in on their position, fast. Of course Deacon was embarrassed to have Basil's hands virtually down his pants, so to avoid any awkward confrontation, he yanked the young lycan into his room.

        Within the low light of his room, Deacon's eyes reflected the pure lust he felt welling up within him. Even after he had neglected his swollen cock for virtually ten minutes, he realized Basil may have been the best bet to help. But, at what cost? His precious ego, that's what. Dismayed and left hindered by his innermost judgment and wanton erection, he pinned the lycan against the wall and slammed down his hand to guard him while they talked. "You ... you're really a fucking, irritating man," Deacon groaned. He seemed genuinely upset but this was not the case. "You of all people know it's not humane to tease a lycan. What're you up to?"

        "I'm a fan of them. I'm an artist, I don't know if Deacon has told you ... I spend a lot of my time deciphering what others deem 'inspiring'. When I was investigating I came across an archive of older horror movies. To further sate my intrigue I watched every last one of them ... and within a twenty-four hour interval I was addicted. Partially because I find the subject of pure terror enticing and partially because of these creatures seem poorly misunderstood. Lycanthropes, for example."

        She collected her films - as well as her beers - and trekked downstairs where the others had been anxiously waiting. Her first incentive was to take a comfortable position on the couch where two handsome and antsy young men had launched themselves after Estelle sat down. "We're watching movies?" Some of them cheered, damn near ripping the DVDs out of her hand. Estelle didn't seem all too fazed, and rather, let the boys root through it on their own. While they bickered, she took note of the rain falling outside ... when she arrived, it was fairly light and harmless, but now the wind was jerked about light and right, washing the rain against the house's windowpanes. [/list:u][/list:u][/list:u]
 
Basil kept his half lidded smirk, which all in all, made him look very much cocky. He was more then amused at Deacon's obvious disgruntlement. He let out a small sound of surprise as he was suddenly yanked into the room. Well, that was unexpected. His eyes slowly adjusted to the dim room, and he blinked a few times to try and aid them. Yet, right as he was making out the features of Deacon's face, he was forced to move again, this time meeting the wall with a little thump. This position seemed a little bit like deju vu.. oh, yes, he'd been in it today already.

His head tilted up to look at the larger man, not even tempting to free his hand. "Getting a little rough, are we? Ah, well, I'm kinda into that.." he snickered, then shifted a little to better get his barrings, straining his neck to get his face closer to Deacon's. "That's insulting, you know. I came up here to give you some company." and to tease him. But he didn't have to admit to that, even if it was glaringly obvious. "But if you're really so dense as to not know what I /really/ came up here for, you're worse off then I thought. Think, Deacon. Or better yet, stop thinking all together. Give into your instincts for once.. what are /they/ telling you to do?" it sounded like a challenge as the words spilled from his lips.

Wesley hadn't expected such a deep answer to come from her, but he was no where near complaining. Brains, beauty, and a bust.. what a catch this girl would be. /If/ he could catch her. It was about time to challenge himself, start one of his little games. Just how long would it take him to get this woman in his arms? Or better yet, his bed? He had a feeling this might be his most challenging game yet..

"Lycanthropes, hm? ..So do you really believe in them, or are you speaking in hypothetical terms?" he knew Deacon hadn't told her. The whole group had got a lecture before she arrived about keeping their jaws shut about the secret. But this really wouldn't count if she already knew, now would it? He watched with mild annoyance as the other dogs piled up beside her then began rifling through the DVDs. Mannerless beasts. "Stop being heathens." he bopped one on the head, kicking him off the couch and took his seat. "Go put this one in." he pretty much ordered, holding the werewolf title from before. A few snickered, and one took it to get it started.​
 


      • It was that cockiness that drove Deacon damn near up the wall. Basil knew exactly how this situation would end - with a sticky hand and a very, very happy oversized lycan. Deacon was such a behemoth often people wouldn't believe he could be subdued by the promise of sexual favors but tonight he couldn't handle it. The lack of sex, masturbation ... no sexual gratification in since, well ... he couldn't even begin to remember. He furled his fist tight and slammed it into the wall again, this time leaving a sizable dent. No doubt Estelle could be questioning it if she were ever to see his room.

        "Right now ... they're telling me to drive your head through the wall," he gritted through clenched teeth, literally towering over the pint-sized lycan. His eyes went flaxen, a shade of viscous, golden honey. Suddenly, he grappled Basil's hand and jerked it further southward, purposely guiding his fingers over the button of his jeans. "You made this worse. So help me deal with it."

        Estelle took a few moments to reply to his inquiry. "It's nice to believe creatures like that exists. Who knows ... this world is vast and ageless." She left the man with a particularly vague answer, allowed her body to relax within the sofa and had even propped her feet up on the table. Some of the younger lycans - a few years shy of their adulthood - were curled up on the floor and obediently had transfixed their eyes upon the television where the movie was being aired. One was even polite enough to turn off the lights for their guest.

        Within the sudden low light, Estelle felt at ease. She curled her arms around a pillow then fled off for her beer, feeling the rather probing hands of a stranger nearby. One of the lycans had given her a father violent nudge directly in the side of her breasts. She winced aloud, only to hear a "Sorry!" belted out from aside her.
        [/list:u][/list:u][/list:u]
 
Of course he knew how it would end. If there's one thing Basil was good at, it was manipulating a person's lust. He tilted his head to the side as Deacon took some frustration out on the wall. He wasn't aiming at him but.. he didn't want to take any chances. His face was too pretty to mess up. "Oh, well then, I guess I should be glad you're not acting on them after all, hm?" just as soon as the words left his mouth, his hand was being jerked forward. He held back his smirk. He'd gotten what he wanted, no need to ruin it by getting punched in the face.

"As you wish.." he cast his eyes downward, now fully adjusted to the light. His fingers worked to undo the button, then the zipper. He hooked his thumb under the waistband of the other lycan's pants, giving them a little tug. Then he pressed his palm flat against the hardness there, still having not freed it from the confines of the jeans just yet. He cupped it in his hand, a small smile on his lips. "My, my.. that's got to hurt a little." he tsk'd.

"Yes.. quite vast. I have some belief they exist, too." Wesley had an amused smirk on his face, leaning back against the couch and settling in. He crossed his arms over his chest and prepared to enjoy the movie with no interruptions now. Just enjoy the company next to him. But no. There was no enjoying anything in this house.

"Guys, be careful." he reached around her, flicking the other lycan on the ear. He could be a bit of a bully to the others.. but in his eyes, they needed a little of it to stay in line. "..And keep your hands to yourself." he added. He would not put it past any of them to try and cop a feel, then blame it as an 'accidental slip of the hand'. He'd used that line before.​
 



      • Naturally lycanthropes had high temperatures. They constantly exhibited hot skin which they eventually grew accustomed to ... but it was an entirely different sensation when their body temperatures grew higher from many triggers. Tangible change in temperature, body exertion, embarrassment and even arousal. "W-Why ... why must everything be so formal to you?" he grunted. His perfect pearly white canines glittered in the low light as he withdrew the thought of crushing tiny Basil with his weight. Every passing second felt like minutes and minutes like hours. He watched with lust ridden eyes as the lycan slowly unbottoned his denim trousers then unfastened the zipper. The heat emanating from him was overwhelming to a point where he felt like a human would have been deemed dreadfully ill with a fever. Even as the light fixtures began flashing above him he didn't care. The second Basil's skilled hands caressed the hard, dense plain of his wanton flesh, he groaned, whispering, "You have absolutely no idea."

        Meanwhile Estelle seemed entranced with the surges of electricity the house seemed to be experiencing. First it was the television. It began flickering on and off until the DVD player was instantly shut off. The two boys in the front groaned and hoped to turn to Wesley for aid. "Can you fix it?" they whined in sync. Another lycan fled in from the kitchen with a freshly lit candled claiming that the electricity had went out. "The wind's pretty violent out there," he explained, "So it makes sense if the electricity went out. Just stay calm, guys. I'll go grab some candles from the basement. 'Gonna need some extra hands, though." Estelle was left starstruck. How did the men see so flawlessly in the pure darkness? She was left hindered into her eyesight adjusted which would take a few more moments. In her wake searching for leverage, she accidentally landed her hands square on Wesley's abdomen.

        They slipped, much to her chagrin, one bracing his thigh, the other coming dangerously close to his groin. "Jesus. I'm sorry, Wesley," she uttered darkly, ever so carefully withdrawing her hands. Of course the stumble resulted in her planting her chest directly in his side, though, there was no way in hell he'd protest.

        [/list:u][/list:u][/list:u]
 
The small Lycan kneaded at the sensitive, hidden flesh under his hand. He could feel the heat radiating off of the hulking man before him. Yet the whole situation was making his mouth water. The idea came to him that if he hadn't have interrupted, Deacon probably would be finished and panting in his chair by now. So he felt a tad bit guilty for trying to go slow.. so, he slipped his hand inside the pants, underwear, too, to finally let his finger tips dust over hot, restricted shaft waiting there. "You're so hot, Deacon." he chuckled after the words.. both meaning it literally and figuratively. "Well, I wont let you go through the torture too much longer." he slipped his hand further inside the other man's pants, grasping his cock fully then carefully pulling it free from it's denim prison. And that's when the lights went out completely, right before Basil got a chance to look. Now he had to wait for his eyes to adjust again.. he huffed.

The movie had barely gotten started.. then went blank. Wesley added to the groans with a sigh of his own. Perfect night for this to happen. He looked around, his eyes almost instantly adjusting to the limited lighting in the room. "No, I can't fix it.." he replied, then sat up more and looked to the one sporting a candle. "While your down there, fool around with the light box.. but don't get yourself fried." he was about to stand up, then a hand jabbed him in the stomach. He didn't make so much as a grunt, though.. the breath caught in his throat when he saw just how close her pretty face had gotten to his crotch. Then he felt something (or rather, somethings) soft and warm press against his side. What good luck he had. "..No problem." now just don't move and let him enjoy the moment.​
 


      • There was a very awkward - yet sating - air about this entire situation. If anyone knew how not to make him enjoy a hand-job, it was certainly Basil. Not that he had over come in any sexual contact with the lycan before but he had heard stories from others. Though his body constantly craved some manner of sexual gratification - being a lycan, of course - he always practiced reluctance and never consulted Wesley. That's particularly because he wasn't interested in pursuing a romantic relationship. He was ornery for his age and preferred traditional 'making love' to raucous fucking.

        The second Basil took Deacon's entire cock in his hands, he could feel his body swell with this heat he hadn't felt in quite some ages. A warm, burning sensation pooled in his abdomen while he resisted the urge to buck up into the lycan's rough palms relentlessly. He watched, dazed almost, as the light fixtures flickered. Sounds like his belt undone belt buckle jingling were all garbled in his little pleasurable realm. He just hoped to god that the darkness wouldn't stop Basil. "Just ... just, don't ... ughn." His warning only erupted in the form of a low, guttural moan. He had meant to mention to Basil not to squeeze too tight in fear of this momentous occasion being ruined, but it seemed the lycan's oh-so-skilled hands knew just how to stroke.

        "I don't think the fuse is blown. I just think it's the wind outside knocking around the telephone wires. If that's the case we may be out of power 'til the morning." The lycan ran his hand through his chocolate brown locks then stroked his scruffy chin. He figured it wouldn't be too much of a hassle to take a peak. Unfortunately the alpha - Deacon - wasn't financially savvy and didn't invest in a generator. While he failed at using common sense, his younger sibling Estelle did not. She waited patiently for her eyes to adjust then ambled over towards the young man who was headed into the basement. "Are there more candles?" She questioned. The young man stood there, starstruck. He she just ... spoken to him? This exotic, tan-skinned Brazilian babe? Luckily she couldn't see his face turn redder then an over fertilized tomato. "Uh ... y-yeah, they're in the kitchen by the f-f-f-ridge."

        At the man's behest she found her way to the kitchen and not so easily found the wax sticks which were ensconced amongst plastic wrap and tinfoil. She returned to the living room shortly there after and found her seat aside Wesley who seemed quite content in the darkness. "Do you have a light on you?" The couch protested under the pair's weight, folding and tilting underneath her, driving her further into Wesley's side. Though she retaliated and did her best to scoot back, the couch continued to foil her plans and planted her right back next to him. "Wes!" one of the younger lycans whispered. His utterance was inaudible to Estelle who was feathering off the wax from the wicks. "... I have a bet for you. I bet you two hundred bucks you can't get a blowjob from her in a week. And if you get laid, well, that's five hundred and my wine set in the larder downstairs. What do ya say?"
        [/list:u][/list:u][/list:u]
 
Basil huffed through his nose, deciding to ignore the lights. Knowing this bunch some dipshit could have bitten into an electrical wire or a good number of things to make the power go on the fritz. There were far more important things to tend to, like turning Deacon into a puddle of goo. The smaller lycan felt up his pulsing shaft, trying to get a feel of his size while he waited for his eyes to fully adjust to the darkness. Then he ditched his curiousity and set his goal back to making the big boy moan.

His fingers curled around the heated flesh delicately, grasping it with just the right pressure. Then he began to make slow, careful motions with his hand. Up, down, push, pull. He kept the slow speed for now.. he wanted to draw this out a little. He'd always liked Deacon, who didn't? He was the leader. And sexy to boot. As soon as Basil had learned he liked the boys, he'd lusted after him.. just a little. Some flirting here and there, teasing touches now and again. Nothing like shoving him into the nearest wall and having a steamy make out session or anything. Not that he could successfully, due to the height difference. "Don't.. stop?" he hummed, trying to guess.

"Well, it wont hurt to check, now will it?" Wesley shot back, though he didn't sound rude about it. He had boobs against his arm. How could he not sound a little happy? But it was short lived, before he knew it, they were gone. "By the way, where the hell is Basil?" he asked, scanning the room. No sign of the little pest. Deacon, either. He narrowed his eyes a little then snickered, coming to a little conclusion in his head. "..You're never going to get a girl when you stutter like that." he told the poor guy, though found his reaction amusing none the less. Some of these boys didn't have a clue. He might need to give them a lesson in the ladies later.

They were back. He almost smiled when he felt the soft bosom pressed right back where it had been before. It made him wonder if she was going it on purpose. He didn't smoke, so he wasn't any help to her candle dilemma. But one of the other lycans took care of that, offering her a lighter from his pocket. Wesley's attention turned to the younger pup, and eyebrow arching at the offer. "Where did you get that kind of cash?" he asked, keeping his voice low as well. No matter, money was money, and this bet had a double pay out. "..Nevermind." he held his hand out, grasping the other lycans and gave it a firm shake. "It's a deal. Get the five hundred ready."​
 


      • Deacon was always the domineering one. It was he that initiated things, that governed control, that had been the one to both take and wield the reins. It was intriguing - and somewhat demeaning - to have Basil cater to him in such a ... 'loving' manner per se. This affection was, needless to say, quite refreshing, but the over-sized behemoth felt slightly belittled. Here he was, teetering dangerously close to seven feet tall and had a barely five foot pint-sized lycan giving him a well-deserved, well-needed handjob. He felt that it may have been best just to give in and submit, but only for tonight. Other times he wouldn't be so easily swayed.

        Jesus Christ ... fuck it
        . He thrust his hips upward into Basil's adoring hands, grunting, reveling in the euphoria being given to his swollen, tumid cock. The burning sensation continued to well, to burn up and to swell until he felt like he was going to damn near explode. Not yet, he'd chide himself, this was something he hadn't experienced in quite some years and wanted it to be explosive.

        "Great. And in return ... if you don't, you're going to leave her to us. That means you won't be back at this house for a week and in that time, all of us would have had a go. We'll fuck her so senseless she wouldn't know what hit 'er. And she doesn't have to like it, either." Some of the lycans in the house had no respect for Deacon. They were leeches; passerbies; parasites that fed off his generosity. An elite handful would jump at the chance to be alone with his curvaceous, outlandishly good-looking sister. And as he mentioned, they wouldn't be willing to take no as an answer, for a group effort was always much more efficient. Sure they'd have to share but, who didn't like a good round-robin?

        While the lycan ran his foul mouth, Estelle had used Wesley's shoulder to hoist herself upward, placing her beer on the table-top after feeling around for it. "I'm going to bed," she announced while inwardly wondering where it was her elder brother had went. She let the thought roll off her back and proceeded to the stairwell where she was greeted with a familiar sound. Moaning. Her face went blank and she turned right around, swiveling on her bare heel then returning to her place on the couch only to land square in the middle of some lycans lap. She uttered her sorry and found a free spot aside Wesley, hearing the silent curse from the other man's mouth. "It looks like I won't be sleeping upstairs this evening ... I hate to say this about my brother, but, he has too much stamina." [/list:u][/list:u][/list:u]
 
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