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Unlike some mammals, Logan didn't go into heat all that often. Though once unpredictable, now that he'd reached a comfortable century and a half in age, his body was now regular as clockwork. Still made him snort when he felt the symptoms tickle near the middle of Autumn. ("What are you gonna be this Halloween, Logan?" "Horny, apparently.") Hi-larious.
It wasn't that bad, really. Most heats he just rode out with some toys and a few six-packs of Labatt Blue. It sure beat finding some fool willing to pound his pussy to kingdom come for a week straight, anyway. He was a loner by nature.
There wasn't much chance of trick-or-treaters showing up at his place, what with Logan living (squatting) in an (abandoned) hunter's lodge at the edge of Sherdell Forest, and all, but he was a good sport and bought a bag of candy when he trekked the four-mile hike to the last-chance convenience/diner at the edge of town, frequented only by truckers and fellow hunters.
He got himself some essentials, too; toilet paper and beer, seasoning and sauce. He tossed an unscented bottle of lube into the basket, and pretended he didn't see the clerk arching a gray eyebrow when she scanned it.
"Expecting some company, Logan?" she asked, sly. She'd been trying to set Logan up with her daughter for the better part of a year, now. Nice girl.
"No, ma'am," he insisted. "I like the quiet. Get me one of those rhubarb pies of yours, would you, Betty?"
He ate it all on the long walk home. Heats made him crave sweets like nobody's business.
Once inside, he prepared for doomsday, smoking enough meat to last him a month; cramming the fridge top-to-bottom with booze. He made sure he had enough clean blankets that he wouldn't have to sleep on his own wet spots, and filled the rack with chopped firewood. Finally, he filled a bowl with candy and stuck it out on the porch with a note that read "Take ONE. Don't knock."
That ought'a keep the little squirts happy.
Back in town, kids donned their capes and cloaks, lighting candles in enough Jack-o'-lanterns to keep the frights at bay. Teens smuggled cheap beer to their friend's parties. Adults snuck candy from bowls when their spouses weren't looking. A tall stranger passed through shops and eateries, making small-talk and polite inquiries. ("You seen a grouchy man, 'bout this short? Whereabouts does he live, anyway?")
Oblivious, Logan settled in for his week of cozy debauchery.
He lay flat on his mattress, reached between his legs, and cupped his fuzzy pussy, rubbing... And rubbing harder. He wasn't one for foreplay. and he'd been pent up for ages. No time to get wet; that was what lube was for.
Grabbing the newly purchased bottle, he fussed with the plastic cap for maybe two seconds before popping a claw and slicing it clean off. Fuck patience. Then he all but slopped it on his stomach and smeared it down lower, barely remembering to sheath his claw before stuffing fingers inside himself. Where in the fuck was that goddamned dildo?!
He fumbled around until his hand hit silicone, hidden somewhere beneath his pillow. He should probably start with the thinner 8-inch, but fuck that; he had healing powers for a reason. Grabbing the monstrous, veiny 10-inch, he rammed it up where the sun don't shine and got to cranking, breathing a deep sigh of relief at the stretch.
He needed to be filled like he needed air to breathe. Scratching that itch was enough to satisfy him for almost a whole minute before he required more; harder; faster. Then came the battle of getting the damn suction cup at the base of the toy to actually stick to the goddamn headboard. Just when he got it right, got it to really feeling good, it all came crashing down again. One of these days, he really had to bust out the welding mask and craft something useful to ream himself on.
He finally got going, and going good, when the front door of his cottage caved like a house of cards, splinters flying, and in strode someone he should've seen coming.
"Jesus on a boat," Logan snarled, feeling quite put-out. The sight of his half brother, dressed head to toe in black travelling leathers, led to a maelstrom of mixed feelings, heady lust not least among them. "The fuck, Vic?!"
Victor looked him over, lingering on the more interesting parts of his naked body. "Thought you might be going into heat soon, little brother. Looks like I was right." He licked his teeth, playing with the tips of his fangs with his long, red tongue. Logan wished the sight didn't send a burst of hot arousal straight down his core. Then he saw the sour green candy Victor rolled around in his mouth, and he scowled.
"Those are for the trick-or-treaters, you ass."
"What do you think I'm here for? Trick..." Vic gripped his crotch, and Logan's eyes immediately followed the clawed hand as it rubbed, provocative and obscene, over his trousers. "Or treat."
"Screw you, asshole."
"Nuh-uh. Not tonight. You're the one who's getting screwed, little brother. Stuck like a squealing pig."
"Like hell I am! Go fix the door!"
Victor did not go fix the door. He instead strode for the bed, stripping as he walked. Jacket, off; shoes, off; shirt, unbuttoned—
Logan popped his claws. "If you come any closer, you're the one getting stuck like a pig," he threatened.
Victor grinned. "Foreplay, huh? I like it. I knew you missed me." His own claws grew, curved and sharp from his nail beds. They pierced Logan's ankles when he grabbed them and flipped his sibling over, throwing him on his back with his legs spread wide.
Wishing he had the toe-claws his clone was gifted with, Logan wrestled, snarling fiercer than any animal. He got a heel free and kicked his brother in the eye socket, feeling bone crack.
Victor yelped, then roared, throwing his not-inconsiderable weight onto Logan and keeping him pinned.The bedsprings squealed a loud complaint. Ignoring the lengthy claws that pierced his shoulder, Vic thrust his groin against his brother's, rubbing leather against Logan's aching pussy. Logan couldn't help but moan at the delicious friction, his own hips rising to meet him.
"See?" Victor teased, panting, peeling Logan's claws out of his flesh. They both watched muscle and skin knit back together, healing in seconds. "You are just a little whore in heat. You can't help but hump your betters— whoa!"
He laughed when Logan rolled him over, deftly perching atop his hips. With three claws aimed at Victor's throat, Logan unzipped his brother's leathers and fished his cock out, familiar and heavy and hot in his hand. Far better than any toy, and this one came with a base already attached. Too bad the base in question was his obnoxious as all hell, odiferous, half-feral sibling.
He rose and, using his core muscles, rubbed himself against the head, moaning. Victor panted, too, staying unusually still as his brother played with him. He twitched and throbbed in Logan's hand, dripping deliciously.
"Go on," he purred. "Go on and use it. Stuff it up that slutty cunt of yours. You know you're horny an’ desperate."
This was the game they'd been playing since they were barely kids, themselves. Logan snarled and growled and told Vic to fuck off; Vic leered and purred and pinned him down and took what he wanted, anyway... Maybe it was a game they should talk about more, when they weren't flooded with lust. Wasn't that what everyone nowadays said to do? 'Talk to your partner'!
Well, Logan and Vic just weren't the talking sort. Maybe they were too wild for the civilized world. Anything but outright battle was a soft 'yes,' and that was just fine with them both.
"You're disgusting," Logan informed his brother, gripping his prick, massaging the head against his swollen clit.
"Missed you, too." Victor dragged his claws up Logan's back, drawing thin pink lines that healed over in seconds. "Come on, baby. Fuck yourself. You know you need it."
"Could skin your face off and keep it as a souvenir," Logan threatened, and Victor laughed. Logan would sooner die than tell him, but he loved Vic's laugh. Like him, it was a wild thing; just slightly unhinged.
Rising up, he took Victor inside of himself and moaned in relief. God, he was perfect. Perfect size, perfect stretch. Warm and ever-hard. He began to bounce, glad when Victor's claws pierced harder into his back, drawing blood. He dragged down to Logan's ribs, which he scraped like keys on a xylophone. He bypassed Logan's breasts entirely, not wanting to start a real fight, and stroked his collarbones, instead.
"If you kiss me, I'll break your legs," Logan threatened, bouncing, listening to the slick, squishy sounds of their bodies meeting and parting. He'd ached for this; ached for a cock to take away his pain.
"Oh, baby, you don't have to break me to keep me here," Victor purred, taking hold of Logan's chin and bringing him close, sliding his lips along the corner of his mouth. "I'm already yours for the night."
He closed his eyes, waiting for a kiss that never came. His grunts became a snarl when his brother threw him off and got him tits-down on the bed, his ass in the air. Vic twisted Logan's arms behind his back, holding his wrists in a bone-creaking fist, and slammed into him from behind. "I know what a bitch in heat really needs."
Logan snarled his outrage, but already he was meeting Vic's every thrust, the bedsprings screaming like a ghost choir. Victor's hips slapped Logan's ass on every thrust; his dangling balls doing the same to Logan's clit. Logan felt his eyes rolling in their sockets as the first of many heat-orgasms overtook his body. He must've drifted away for a second or two, because when he returned to himself, Victor had him in a crushing headlock.
"Little bitch like you just wants to get bred so bad, huh?" Victor teased, hauling Logan back to finger his pussy, feeling where Logan stretched tight around his cock. "Want me to knock you up with a litter of my cubs?"
"Fuck," Logan breathed, biting his lip. The very thought made his womb clench, hollow. He tried to thrust, but Victor held him firm in that iron grip.
"Nope. Tell me." Victor rocked, pulling Logan onto him by the hips, grinding that strike plate inside him that made sparks fly. "Tell me you wanna be my little breeding bitch. Tell me you wanna be swollen with milk for my cubs. Sweet little Jimmy, barefoot an' pregnant in my kitchen..."
"Fuck you; I ain't sayin' shit..." Logan squirmed, claws unsheathed, looking for a good angle to carve. "I'll lop your junk off and keep it for a dildo; don't think I won't!"
Victor's laugh in his ear, rusty as a bucket of nails, sent a violent shiver down Logan's spine. He whined when he was again thrown to the bed, bounced, before Victor's hand came down hard on his ass, spanking. His claws were still out, and Logan felt them prick, tear, skin.
The stink of fresh blood rose again. Victor spanked a second time; grabbed a handful of ass; gave it a wobbly shake. "Got this big ol' ass right here," he said. "What did they call 'em back in the day? 'Child-rearing hips'?"
"Are you still on that?! Knock it off with that cub shit!"
"Naw. I feel the way it makes your cunt go all tight, milking my cock dry. Somethin' in you wants it bad, little brother. And one of these days, you're gonna give in and beg me for it."
The worst part was, he was probably right. He always was about the worst things.
Logan flipped onto his back and hauled his brother close, digging his heels in the small of Victor's broad back. Vic played stupid, grinning, until Logan sank his teeth in Vic's wrist, feeling bone crunch. His brother winced, but obliged, slapping Logan's pussy a few times before sliding in it like coming home after a long day on the job.
"This is nice," Vic sighed, pumping, purring. "Nobody's got a cunt like yours, Jimmy; no matter where I stick it."
"Flattery will get you everywhere."
Logan clenched his muscles around Vic's prick, milking him, encouraging him. Victor's growl was one sweet victory as he lay flat on top of his brother and got to pounding once more. From this angle, Logan had perfect access to dig his nails into Vic's back, clawing him from hips to neck. It was the closest they ever got to hugging.
He liked the way it felt when Vic purred; deeper, louder, than the motor on his bike ever did. It was deafening, and not at all nice. It drove all thought from Logan's head as they moved and fucked and groaned.
"Gonna nut in you," Vic threatened, breathless. "Gonna do it..."
"So shut up and do it, then!"
Victor plunged deep into his brother's cunt and came hard; pulsing, hot spurts that had Logan's eyes rolling with lust, the intense ache of heat satisfied, for now. He groaned, squirmed, when he felt the base of Victor's knot. Logan slammed protesting fists into Victor's meaty pecs. "Do not — "
"Shut your hole; of course I'm gonna." With infinite patience, Victor used the advantage of his size to pin Logan down; to keep his legs open and his cunt plugged while he knotted him. Logan cussed a blue fury, but it made no difference; they were locked at the pelvis until the swelling went down, unless he really did want to separate Vic from his cock for the time it took him to grow a new one.
"Quit your bitching; you know you like it. Skank."
It didn't hurt, was the thing; not unless they moved. But Vic's prick was inflated at the base, keeping his brother's pussy sealed around it. Keeping any jizz from dripping out. Squirm as Logan might, it did nothing but make him fall back and moan.
"If you're a good boy, I'll eat you out later," Victor offered. "Lick the taste of me right out of your cute little pussy."
Logan might have broken a little, sobbing. Never let a cat know how much you want something; if he thinks it's valuable, he'll dangle it above your head like a fish on a line. "Yeah?" he purred, his smile all fang. "That what my sweet Logan wants; wants to get his pretty pussy ate by little ol' me?"
"You're a dead man walking, Creed."
"And you're a shameless whore."
The two brothers sized each other up; one scowling, one smirking. Logan tried to no avail to squirm away, but they were stuck like glue. He huffed and, shifting just enough to provide adequate friction, began rubbing his clit once more.
“Nuh-uh.” Victor took hold of Logan’s hands, pinning them above his head. “That ain’t fair. If I gotta wait to go again, so do you. Just lay there an’ be my pretty cockwarmer ‘til I say you can move.”
“No
fucking
way—!”
“Shh, shh.” Victor covered Logan’s mouth with a heavy paw. “Nice and quiet, just like I like you.”
Victor was such an asshole… And Logan ached to come again. His greedy pussy drank all the seed Victor gave him, as desperate to get bred as Victor had said. Fucking heats. Fucking useless, sticky, broken, rotten, goddamn heats.
So hot for it he was nearly crying, Logan locked his ankles 'round Vic’s waist, digging a heel into the small of his back. He gave a little thrust, encouraging, and Victor obligingly fucked him like that, twisting his knot in Logan’s hole, causing the come inside him to slosh.
Logan whimpered and reached for Vic’s hand, bringing it to his mouth, sucking on his fingers. Vic’s claws tasted bitter, metallic, on his tongue.
“Are you trying to sweeten the deal?” Vic teased. “Make yourself fuckable so I’ll give you what you want?”
Logan scowled and did not answer. He did, however, pull Vic’s face down, attacking him in what was closer to a bite than a kiss. Tasting that stolen apple candy on his pointed cat’s tongue made Logan growl.
He slid his hands down and grabbed hold of Vic’s ass, squeezing and kneading, then pulling, driving. Dragging Vic deeper inside himself, grinding his clit against Vic's pelvic bone, then resuming their rhythm. “Pull it out,” Logan grunted. “S’fine; you can tear me. Just wait til I heal up some, then stuff it back in.”
Vic whistled, a glint in his eyes. He was a sadist, and pain — other peoples’ pain — turned him on like nothing else. That in itself didn’t mean shit, morally speaking, no more than Logan liking the way pain felt said shit about him. Maybe they didn’t play with these kinks as nicely as they should have, but truth be told, that was why they went so well together. With each other, they never had to hold back.
Vic ripped out of Logan’s hole, and in the cursing and whining and bleeding that followed, he didn’t bother to wait for his brother to heal. The fucking began anew at once; hot and wetter than ever. Logan snarled and pounded on his brother’s chest, but as usual, he didn’t fight as hard as he could have. It hurt; oh, it hurt something fierce, but that just had him burning hotter than ever.
“See, Jimmy?” Vic purred, grabbing Logan by the ass, practically bending him in half as he pounded him hard. “Nobody in the world can give you what you need. Nobody but me.”
The worst part was, once again, the bastard was absolutely right.
~ fin ~