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I've always loved anal sex. It didn't matter if it was with a man or a woman
#1
My name is Tyrone Jarrod Fraser. Friends call me T.J. I'm a big black man living in Iowa. At twenty three years of age, I stand six feet two inches tall and I weigh two hundred and eighty pounds. I've always been a big guy. These days, I work as a truck driver for Samson & Dale, a Trucking Company. The pay is alright and I get to travel a lot, which is what I like. Just give me a truck, the open road and a radio blaring Rap music and I'm happy. I'm a simple man with simple tastes. If you ask me, life is much better this way.

I've had lots of jobs over the years. A lot of people assume that just because you're a truck driver, you must be undereducated or something. Yeah, they think we truck men are dumb. That's not the case. I know plenty of intelligent and interesting men in the trucking business. The stories they have to share are nothing short of amazing. They have really led interesting lives. The men in my crew are my brothers. We're all there for each other. Don't disrespect my brothers. I could go all college man on your ass and drag you to court. I've got a bachelors degree in business administration from the Iowa Institute of Technology. I attended Iowa Tech from 2003 to 2007. Iowa Tech is a small private school with nine thousand students. The school has a focus on engineering, computing and overall technical education. It also has excellent programs in business. I majored in business and lived on the Des Moines campus.

I liked my life at Iowa Tech. I enrolled there, having left my native Boston behind, never to come back. What did I leave behind in Boston? You don't want to know. Oh, well. Since I opened this can of worms, I might as well tell you. I'm not exactly the most normal person you'll ever meet. Nah, in fact, in many ways, I'm not a person at all. I'm a Wolfman. The world is full of Wolfmen and Wolfwomen. How many of us are there? I'd say hundreds of thousands. We're an ancient breed of creatures who existed long before humans evolved. Many people call us Werewolves or Lycanthropes. We've always hidden in plain sight. We don't turn into wolf-like creatures when the full moon comes. Nah, we're just what we are. Our glorious selves, all the time. We're stronger and faster than humans. Also, our senses are sharper. We don't get sick. Our ability to regenerate quickly makes us almost impossible to kill. We can grow back any lost or damaged body part except the head. And we can live well over a thousand years if we're lucky enough not to get killed. Both my parents are werewolves. Like many of our kind, we lived in plain sight of everyday humanity and led ordinary lives.

I left the city of Boston because my parents and I didn't get along. They cling to the old ways of our kind. I wanted to lead a normal life. A lot of our people believe in the Old Ways. They like to return to the wilderness at least once a month, and hunt animals using nothing but their natural weapons. When you're ten times stronger and five times faster than the average human being, you don't need a weapon to bring down a caribou or even a mountain lion. Hunting is both a sport and a spiritual experience for most of my people. Entire families go on frequent hunting trips all over the world. Yeah, we're everywhere. We're cops, firefighters, lawyers, corrections officers, doctors, politicians, and even gangsters. You name it, you are it.

Our society is quite strict about its traditions. Wolfman Society is divided into Packs. A Pack has an Alpha Male and an Alpha Female. The other members of the Packs owe allegiance and obedience to the Alpha Couple. Those who disobey are reprimanded quite harshly. A Pack can include hundreds of members. Groups of families, basically. There are hundreds of Packs in North America. All the Packs answer to the Supreme Council, made up of the wisest members of our community. It's not a democracy. The men and women who seat on the Supreme Council wield god-like power over the rest of us. They can do anything they want. They have all the power. I don't like this arrangement. Neither do most of my people.

My father, Geraldo Fraser is a tall, large black man who's a pillar of the community in Boston, where I grew up. He's a Supreme Court Judge. My mother, Helena Campbell Fraser, is a community college professor and a retired policewoman. I have an older brother named Jonas. He's a student at Massachusetts Maritime Academy. My older sister Kyriana is a firefighter in Boston. My parents are the Alpha Couple of Harokh Pack, which includes hundreds of Wolfmen and Wolfwomen from the city of Boston and surrounding communities. We're the First Family, so to speak. Harokh Pack is one of the oldest and most numerous Packs in the community. Our name is respected. My grandmother, Janice Fraser, once sat on the Supreme Council. A long time ago. Isn't that something? The Harokh Pack is currently at war with the Ghrull Pack. The Ghrull Pack is a treacherous and vicious bunch. They're based mostly in Rhode Island. Their Alpha Male is Luther Hartsfield, a captain with the Rhode Island State Police. His wife, Rhode Island Junior Senator Michelle Quincy Hartsfield is the Alpha Female of Ghrull Pack and a very vicious bitch. Word is she had her own daughter killed for disobedience. That's messed up.

The Ghrull Pack has grown more numerous in the past decade, and they want to expand their territory. They're all over the place. I knew what was going on, but I've never much cared for Pack politics. My father had brought back the Patrol, a group of Wolfmen and Wolfwomen whose duty it was to defend our territory from the incursions of the Ghrull Pack. He wanted me to enroll in it. I've never cared much for war. My siblings Jonas and Kyriana are the scrappers in the family. As you can imagine, my father wasn't pleased. He wanted me to join the Patrol. When I graduated from Kelling Miliary Academy, an all-male college preparatory school, I surprised the entire family with two revelations. One was that my longtime friend and former classmate Patrick Hamilton was really my boyfriend, and two, I was leaving the state...and the Pack. As you can imagine, that didn't sit too well with my parents.

I moved out of the Milton mansion where we lived, and into a two-bedroom apartment in Dorchester. It was all that Patrick and I could afford. Well, until school began. I didn't want to think about it much. In September, Patrick would begin taking classes at Bridgewater State College. I had gotten accepted to Iowa Tech on a Basketball scholarship. But I couldn't move there until late August of Summer 2003. What was I to do until then? Patrick and I moved in together. I thought it was all so adventurous. Also, I loved Patrick. It was hard not to. He was so beautiful. A six-foot-tall, slim and sexy, red-haired and green-eyed Irishman. He was so fine, witty and funny. A great boyfriend. We had a passionate relationship. My parents frowned on my being such close friends with a human. If they only knew. Patrick was human, yeah, but he was also the man I loved. Our time spent together that summer was wonderful. Oh, we had to work hard to pay the seven-hundred-dollar-a-month rent. I worked for a delivery service. Patrick worked at an Irish restaurant in the South End. We were living hard but it was nice. Walking through Boston Common while holding hands with him was wonderful. We kissed, and paraded around the city, without caring who stared at us. Yes, I loved him. He showed me what love was. Patrick was the first guy I'd ever been with. I fondly remember our best moments together.

We met during my senior year. Back then, I was the Basketball team captain at Kelling Military Academy. Patrick wasn't a jock. He was an artist and a musician. He was also the sexiest guy I'd ever seen. He was openly gay at a school which wasn't known for its tolerance of gays and bisexuals. I didn't know what to make of my feelings for him. I mean, I was scared. I didn't want to think of myself as possibly gay or bisexual. My parents simply wouldn't understand. Being a Wolfman was tough enough. Spending every moment of every day being careful because blowing your cover might be the end for you. In the community, there are time-honored and unchangeable rules. Any Wolfman or Wolfwoman who reveals themselves to a human and lets that human live gets killed. End of story. It doesn't matter who you are or what your social status is. No exceptions. Being a gay or bisexual Wolfman in a relationship with a gay human male was inconceivable for most of my people. They wouldn't have known how to deal with me. I might as well be a Martian.

When we began seeing each other, it was all done in secret. Patrick came to all my Basketball games. At school, people knew we were friends but that's about it. On Saturday mornings, we'd meet at the Milton Public Library or head into Boston to catch a movie or chill at Copley Mall. Patrick was charming and intelligent. There were times when I really wished I could share myself with him. Let him know who and what I was. Unfortunately, that would have been akin to signing his death warrant. I wasn't that cruel or unrealistic. Besides, what if he freaked out when I told him? I couldn't take the chance. He introduced me to his parents, Joel and Marguerite Hamilton. His mother was an engineer and his father was a social worker. They lived in a nice house in West Milton. He had two older brothers, Stan and Samuel, who were both in college. His folks loved him. They were okay with him being gay. Hell, they were even comfortable with me and him chilling in his bedroom with the door closed. We would make out endlessly. And nobody bugged us about him. Patrick led a fun life. He didn't compromise for anyone. He had to be himself, twenty four seven. I envied him sometimes. Our very tender first time took place in his bedroom, when his parents were away for the weekend. I told my parents I was staying with my teammate Josh, and they actually bought it. I had Josh cover for me by telling him I was spending the weekend with some female whom I liked. Josh was cool. If he only knew what I was really up to. No matter. Patrick and I had the house, and the weekend, to ourselves.

Man, I will never forget those erotically charged good times. It was that intense. Even more intense than the passionate hookups I had with Sheila, a chick I met in Roxbury once. I was coming out of the shower when I found Patrick sitting on the bed, wearing a smile and nothing else. I looked at him. He was tall, lean, and hard. All over. Damn, he was sexy. I 'accidentally' dropped my towel, and when we both reached for it, our gazes met and we kissed. Patrick pulled me into bed with him. We rolled around, wrestling playfully and laughing. I found myself on top of Patrick. He looked up at me, smiling. We kissed again. I felt his hard erection underneath me, and noticed that I was hard as hell.

I was very aroused, and a bit nervous. I'd never been with a guy before. Patrick guided me through it. He was very patient with me. He looked at my dick, and seemed to like what he saw. I'm about eight inches, hefty, and uncut. My people don't believe in body modifications of any kind. We're a naturalistic bunch. I lay on the bed, trying to relax as he took me into his mouth and worked his magic. I sighed in pleasure as Patrick sucked me. Gosh, I'd never felt anything like that before. He really knew what he was doing. A few moments later, I felt like I was going to burst. I did. Patrick took all I had to give, then he pulled himself up and got on top of me. He grabbed my face, hard, and told me to fuck him. I didn't need to be told twice. I put my hands on his hips, and entered him swiftly. Patrick gasped, then began undulating on top of me. His tight flesh gripped my dick like a vise and wouldn't let go. I shouted as I fucked him. I thrust my cock into his tight ass, making him scream. I banged him for all he was worth, and we both came. We laughed, then started all over again. We tried all kinds of stuff together. He told me he wanted to take me. I was once again nervous. I wasn't sure I was ready for that.

Patrick told me to relax, and got me ready. We had plenty of lube. Patrick smeared lube all over my ass, then pressed his dick against my backdoor. He pushed his cock into me. I gasped as he entered me. Hell, it hurts. Patrick was patient with me. He told me to relax, and let it happen. I did. Slowly, inch by inch, he pushed most of his cock into me. As he penetrated me, I felt oddly good. I couldn't believe what was happening. I was letting another guy fuck me. But it felt so good. Patrick began to fuck me hard, and I wanted more. He grabbed my dick and stroked it as he fucked me. He drilled his cock into my ass until he came. I felt his hot seed rush deep inside of me. It felt so wrong, but so damn good. A moment later I came as well. Patrick pulled out of me, and rested his head on my chest. I slowly let out my breath. Hot damn! We fell asleep in each other's arms. It was during that weekend that I fell in love with Patrick for sure. I liked playing house with him. We would have sex anytime we felt like it. And we always felt like it. I couldn't get enough of sex with him. He was so experienced and wild. Yeah, those were the days. Before returning home, I doused myself with high-intensity industrial chemicals. They itched like hell but they're the only things that could cover up the scent of a human from a Wolfman's sharp sense of smell. I told my folks there was an accident at Josh's house. I had fooled my parents yet again.

Yeah, we had some good times, Patrick and I. I thought we would have more good times when we lived together in the Dorchester apartment. Unfortunately, love doesn't pay bills and a struggling financial situation can ruin a romance. When the Summer of 2003 ended, I was broke and nearly homeless. Patrick had left me and moved back in with his parents. He also got back with his old boyfriend James, who was headed to Bridgewater State College as well. Isn't that great? I was penniless and starving, but the time had come for my college career to begin. I left Boston forever. The way I figured it, I had nothing left for me back there. My parents hated me. And since Wolf society is such a close-knit community, I was shunned. They called me an Abomination. The Wolfman who shared his bed with a human male. Wolf society isn't as liberal as human society. The goal of all Pack members, male and female, is to be strong and increase the power of the Pack through their offspring. I'm not saying that a gay Wolfman or a lesbian Wolfwoman was all that unheard of. Nope. It's just that all Wolf People married and had offspring. That was it. Yeah, that was the world I was leaving behind.

When I finally got there, Iowa Tech seemed like a godsend. A beautiful campus located in Des Moines. And it was a good school, too. Iowa Tech had one of the best technical education programs in the state. Also, our sports teams weren't bad either. Iowa Tech fielded intercollegiate sports teams in Men's Alpine Skiing, Baseball, Basketball, Rowing, Sailing, Cross Country, Football, Gymnastics, Fencing, Volleyball, Soccer, Swimming, Wrestling, Lacrosse, Bowling, Tennis, Rifle, Golf and Ice Hockey along with Women's Alpine Skiing, Rowing, Sailing, Softball, Basketball, Bowling, Volleyball, Cross Country, Fencing, Gymnastics, Field Hockey, Soccer, Swimming, Rifle, Lacrosse, Tennis, Golf and Ice Hockey. Our sports teams competed in the National Collegiate Athletic Association's Division One.

I was on the Iowa Tech Men's Varsity Basketball team during my first two years. The third year, I got cut from the team. I had to fork over tuition money out of my own pocket. I wasn't rich and the school wasn't trying to hear my excuses. I got a student loan. Attend school and worry about the bill later. Ah, those were the days. After graduating with a business degree, I tried to find work. The job market was brutal and I owed the government a ton of money in student loans. My bills were starting to pile up. To the point that a collections agency was starting to bug me. I didn't like that much. So, I found a job as a truck driver.

I've got a favorite truck stop and it's Rosie's Place. A small diner located on the highway, up north. What's at Rosie's Place? Well, some fine food and drink. Also, it's where you can find Rosie herself. Who is Rosie? A six-foot-tall black woman with a wonderfully thick body, wide hips and a deliciously plump ass. Hell yeah. This forty-something big beautiful black lady is easy on the eyes and quite friendly to us big truck men. Especially yours truly. We've got a good thing going on. She knows I'm bisexual and it doesn't bother her none. I drive by the diner once a week, and sometimes stay overnight. It's a lot nicer to stay in the little house behind the diner, than to stay in my cold truck all night. I do it when I can but I don't like it much. I've come close to freezing my balls in there more than once. Thankfully, I met Rosie. We've got a good thing going on. Call it friendship combined with casual sex. Whatever it is, I like it. I must say that I was looking forward to seeing her. A warm bed with a warm female body next to mine sounds like a nice night to me.

Rosie and I had some really great times in the past. This sexy lady really knew how to rock my world. I had a couple of girlfriends and one boyfriend at Iowa Tech, but I wouldn't consider myself sexually experienced by any means. I could still count on one hand the number of people I had been with. This dame was sexually experienced, seasoned, and very sensual. She was what the guys back at Iowa Tech would have called a MILF. I still remember one of our more passionate nights together. It was that hot.

There was a raging snowstorm outside. I had tons of stuff to deliver, literally. And I was already behind schedule, thanks to a pair of escaped female convicts and the state troopers who instituted a rock block in an attempt to capture them. The heater in my truck wasn't working. My balls were freezing by the time I got to Rosie's Place. She greeted me with a warm smile, and even warmer meal. Man, I devoured that omelette and those hot dogs like a condemned man eating his last meal. I was still shivering as I ate. That might surprise you. Whoever heard of a werewolf having a problem with the cold. Well, I don't much like the cold weather. Being what I am grants me levels of strength, speed and endurance that no human being will ever achieve. However, I don't like any extremes of temperature. It's just not comfortable.

As I rubbed my hands together, Rosie walked by and told me that if I wanted to really get warm, she knew a surefire way. All I had to do was spend the night. I must say that I was tempted. I hadn't gotten any since Marianne, a young Asian woman I dated back at Iowa Tech. She hadn't been much fun either. I think she was into girls. That didn't bother me at all. I'm bisexual myself. However, I don't like being lied to. As Rosie walked away, I find myself admiring that fine, thick butt of hers. Hot damn. I've always been an ass man. It doesn't matter what race or gender I'm looking at. After a few minutes, I got up, and went to the back of the diner. Rosie had Pablo, a cute but hopelessly straight Latin waiter, cover for her while we went into a secluded room.

Rosie pushed me into the room, then closed the door behind her. I looked at her, and smiled. She grabbed me, then kissed me full and deep. She unbuttoned my shirt, and unzipped my pants. Out came my dick since I hardly ever wore any underwear. She held my dick in her hand, and I watched it grow in size. Rosie smiled, then bent down. Uh-oh. Was she going to do what I thought? As she fastened her lips around my dick, I nodded. Yep. She was sucking me. I was a bit surprised. Although we've had sex dozens of times, Rosie had never sucked my cock before. What made her try it now? I didn't ask. I was just grateful. She sucked me until I got hard. I told her that I was about to cum. She nodded, without letting go of me. I came, not believing what was happening. Rosie licked my seed like it was the sweetest thing she'd ever tasted. Afterwards, we really got busy.
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#2
Rosie sat on a large wooden table and spread her legs. She spread her pussy lips wide open. What an invitation. Grinning, I slid my cock into her pussy. Hot damn. Her pussy was so tight. I put my hands on her hips and thrust into her. Rosie wrapped her big arms around me, and held me in place as I fucked her. I love the feel of a tight pussy around my cock. Most of my people don't believe in anything other than procreative sex. In the Wolfman community, it wasn't uncommon for powerful males to have offspring by many females. The passing of one's genes to the next generation is a powerful urge among our kind. However, I had discovered sex with humans, both male and female, and I liked it. Especially since I couldn't catch any sexually transmitted diseases or get anyone pregnant. Wolfmen and humans might look visually identical, we were still two very different species underneath it all. Rosie cursed like a sailor as I fucked her. The words that came out of that woman's mouth would make an NYC cabbie blush. After I got her rocks off, she screamed passionately. A few moments later, both of us were ready for round two.

This time, I bent Rosie over the table and took her from behind. As I looked at her plump and sexy, incredibly tempting ass, a wonderfully wicked idea sprang into my mind. I've heard all the guys talk about it back in the men's locker room at Iowa Tech and I must say that I was curious. I'd done with guys before, but what did anal sex with a woman feel like? I leaned over and whispered into Rosie's ear. It didn't take her long to make up her mind. She grabbed a bottle of skin lotion from her pants pocket, and handed it to me. I took it, and smiled from ear to ear. This was going to be fun. Gently, I spread her butt cheeks and smeared the lube on her ass. Then, I pressed my dick against her backdoor, and pushed it inside. I closed my eyes as my cock slid into Rosie's ass. Slowly, I worked my way into it. Rosie didn't scream or make a sound as I penetrated her ass. I guess she's done this before. This was a first for me. And I must say that I enjoyed it.

I began to thrust my dick into her, slowly. Rosie urged me to pick up the pace. I did, and began to fuck her harder. Her ass felt quite tight around my dick. Not quite as tight as Patrick's, but definitely close. I've always loved anal sex. It didn't matter if it was with a man or a woman. Hell, it didn't matter if I was giving or receiving. There's something so naughty and unbelievably erotic about the whole thing. Just thinking about it is enough to give me a boner. My penchant for backdoor love might be a turnoff but some people but to be honest, if loving anal sex was wrong then I didn't want to be right. Oh, yeah. Rosie was a lot more vocal now that I picked up the pace. She resumed cussing as I fucked her, telling me to go harder and faster. Yeah, this sexy gal was no stranger to anal sex. The many ways which she undulated that big ole booty of hers, grinding it against me, those were definitely not the moves of a beginner. I smiled, filled with pleasure. I fucked Rosie until we both came, so loud that I'm pretty sure the whole diner heard us. Who in hell cares, though?

Yeah, Rosie and I often had a good time together. I liked this sexy black MILF. She was very sensual, good company, and she wasn't angry, pushy or jealous. I think I'm starting to have a thing for older women. They're a lot more often to passionate casual encounters than most people know. Case in point, the very sexy and voluptuous Rosie. The woman I'd like to vote Black MILF of the Year in the state of Iowa. So, this Monday night, I happily pulled by the diner. To be honest, I didn't feel like working this Monday. Then again, who really does? I had bills to pay and I couldn't magically make the debt collection agencies disappear. It would be cool if I could, wouldn't it? Yeah, it was around eight o'clock and I was mad at myself for forgetting to set the VCR to tape Heroes. I love that show. When I'm not working, I watch it almost religiously. Along with Smallville, Flash Gordon, Stargate Atlantis and Rescue Me, it's one of a few television shows I consider worthwhile. There's so much junk on TV that until recently, I had given up on finding decent programming. Leave it to dumb network executives to take away good television shows while replacing them with highly rated pieces of crap. I hate Reality TV. Don't you?

I got out of the truck and went inside. For once, there was no one inside. Instantly, I got worried. I took out my pistol. Operating a diner by the side of the highway, at least sixty miles away from the nearest town is not exactly a safe job. There are all kinds of unusual characters on the highway. Trust me, I've run into many of them in my time. Psychotic guys with guns. Psychotic chicks with guns. Biker gangs. Outlaws. Sociopaths of both sexes in minivans. Crazed state troopers. Escaped prisoners. Serial killers. Yeah, you run into all types on the highway. Such is the life of a truck man.

As I walked through the diner, the smell of danger assaulted my nostrils. That was the first thing I noticed. The second thing was a scent all predators, including myself, instantly know. The smell of blood. It was all over the place. Human blood, and something inhuman as well. I looked around the diner, and smelled death long before I saw it. Yes, death. Littered all over the floor. Bodies. Men and women. Nine in total. All dead. I gasped when I saw Rosie's body among them. Even after all I'd seen in my life, it was disturbing. Rosie lay there, she who was so lively and vivacious was now lifeless. She was dead, a gaping hole in her forehead. The other corpses were torn apart as well. I shook my head. No sane human could have done this. Human serial killers are vicious, but they often lack the raw strength required for this.

I knew what the state police would think : A drifter must have come to the diner. Maybe he or she tried to rob the place and decided not to leave any witnesses. This sometimes happens in isolated places like this. Fiends take advantage of small businesses isolation to rob them. The nearest town was Ackley, and it was a long way from here. As I turned to leave, I sensed something else. Something which sent a chill down my spine. The smell of my own kind. Why hadn't I sensed it before? They had tried to disguise it. I sensed them clearly now. Five males and five females. They came into the diner and slaughtered the men and women of the diner. They were doing it for the pleasure. Yes, I'm sad to say that savages who remorselessly kill for pleasure exist among my people. I closed my eyes, and took a deep breath. I knew what had to be done.

I grabbed a can of gasoline, and torched the place. I stood outside, and watched it all burn. I had to destroy all evidence. Bodies included. That's the rule all of us follow. Anything and anyone which can expose the Wolfman community to the human world must be eliminated. I paused before lighting up Rosie's corpse. She was a lively, interesting and sensual woman who loved life. She didn't deserve what happened to her. Neither did the men and women whose only crime had been to be in the diner when some bloodthirsty Wolfmen and Wolfwomen came in. I know what happened. Please don't think all Wolfmen are barbaric killers. We're a civilized people and we have rules. The freaks who did this smell like rogues. Among the Wolf People, males and females who are considered genetically inferior due to psychological or physiological defects are deemed outcasts. They're removed from the Packs. By removed, I mean killed. However, enough of them escape our justice to become rogue hordes. A rogue horde must have done this. I will find these rogues, and put an end to them. They're a threat to humans and Wolfpeople alike. And I will show them no mercy.
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