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Sunday, June 29, 2014

Dog Style (Part 5)

By: Anonymous

CHAPTER FIVE

The next morning Russ inadvertently woke me up in the morning when he was getting himself breakfast. He habitually got up with the sun, obviously a morning person. I hoped he would eat breakfast and leave so I could get more sleep. Instead, he grabbed a bagel, sat down in the living room, and turned on the news, obviously in for the long haul. I threw my blanket off of me and headed off to the bathroom, capitulating to awakeness.  That day Cougar seemed to be avoiding me. It was the first day that he didn't give me any sort of command. However uncomfortable the last night's escapades had been for me, touching Cougar had been extremely erotic. It seemed I couldn't pass a few minutes without reliving the experience in my head. Not having anything to do, I flipped the TV channels, hoping to find some show that showed some male skin. Not finding anything but female skin, I eventually gave up, and took an afternoon nap on the couch.  Matt invited me out to play pool that night. I had never been before, but he said it was easy to pick up. Cougar came along as well, which was no surprise. Cougar and Matt were always together. But I was surprised when Cougar said that Malcolm was coming along too.  "He said he'd be down in a minute," said Cougar. The three of us were waiting in the entry way.  "Does Malcolm normally go out with you guys?" I asked Matt.  He shrugged. "Sometimes."  "If he hangs out with anyone at the house, he hangs out with us," said Cougar.  "That's not true. Him and Case are cool."  "Yeah, but Malcolm and Russ barely even speak," said Cougar.  "So, is he sort of a loner?" I asked, suddenly sympathetic.  "No," said Cougar. "He goes out all the time. We just don't know who he's with. He's very mysterious."  Malcolm came down the stairs then, interrupting our conversation. "Let's go," he said.  The pool club was about as scummy as I could have imagined. It was dingy and filled with lowlifes, all with beers in their hands, all arguing amongst themselves. It looked like the kind of place that closed early every night because of fights between patrons.  There was only one table available when we got there; it was at the end of the hall. As Cougar set the balls up, I noticed the guys at the table next to us seemed to be giving us looks. There were three of them, all mean looking white trash in their thirties with huge guts hanging over their belts.  "8-ball, teams?" asked Cougar.
"Sure," said Malcolm.  "Me and Matt against you two," said Cougar.  Matt interjected. "You just don't want to play with Rick."  "Yeah, so? He sucks, and Malcolm's the best, so it evens out."  "Fine," said Malcolm. "I'll take the kid, I don't care. Kid, you want to break?"  "Huh?" I asked.  "Never mind, I'll do it."  Malcolm `broke' the triangle of balls, causing a whole bunch of them to fly into the holes. After Cougar's turn, Matt tried to explain to me how to use the cue to hit the balls. I succeeded in hitting the white ball with my cue, but apparently that wasn't good enough. It didn't hit any of the other balls and went straight for the hole.  "You scratched," said Matt. "You never want to the white ball to land in the pockets."  As we kept on playing, I started picking the game up pretty well. At one point, Malcolm was on a streak, hitting one ball in after the other. Matt and I were sitting off to the side, and Cougar came over to us, nodding back towards the table next to us.  "Are you hearing this shit?" he asked.  "Yeah," said Matt.  "What?" I asked, not hearing anything.  Apparently the three guys at the table next to us were insulting Malcolm quietly, under their breath to each other. Only someone with werewolf ears would have been able to hear them.  "They're racist bastards," said Matt, not repeating their actual words to me.  After a couple of games, another table opened up for us across the hall.  "Malcolm and I will take it," said Matt. "That way Cougar can safely kick Rick's ass."  "No way, man," said Cougar quickly. "I don't want to be left with the loser."  "I'll take him," said Malcolm. "Come on, kid."  As we walked across the room to the free table, I tried to interpret Cougar's actions. Since the last night, he had been avoiding being alone with me. What happened to the friendly side of him he showed me after jacking him off?  I remained distraught and distracted as Malcolm and I started playing. There really wasn't any point in playing anyway, since he was so much better than I was.  "What's wrong with you?" he said. "You don't like this game?"  I shook myself out of it. "No," I said. "I'm just tired. I never get any sleep on the couch cause people keep waking me up." That was the truth.  He hit three solids into the pockets. "If it was my choice, you wouldn't have to sleep on the couch, you know."  Since it wasn't his choice, I didn't find his comment to be at all comforting. But I thanked him anyway.  "You know," he said, "you and I need to stick together."  "What do you mean?"  "All I'm saying is, it's been rough for you since you got here. They treat you like second-rate shit. And trust me, things will only get worse. Pretty soon, they'll have you always on your toes, no sleep at all."  "How do you know?" I asked.  "Because, it is obvious. You are the only one that will never win a fight. You will always be last. For the rest of us, we can boss around those below us if we feel like it, sure. But then, boom, they beat you in a fight. And then it's your ass."  "Just like Cougar and Will," I said.  "Exactly. But you, you are not a threat. You're an easy target."  "Yeah. I guess so."  He leaned in close and raised his eyebrow. "That's why you need an ally like me. Don't forget that."  Ally? What was this, a war? "I'm sorry, I don't know what you mean by that."  "Just remember. I like you. You're a good kid. I feel sorry for you. That's all."  He started asking me about my history then, and I filled him in. He seemed really interested in my background and my interests, and my mood lightened a bit.  After playing for an hour, our time ran out, and we decided to head back to the other table. When we got there, Cougar and Matt were playing a game with two of the white trash guys that were talking shit about Malcolm. The third one was sitting out.  They were playing team nine-ball, a game I couldn't begin to understand. And there were stakes, a hundred bucks on the game. I wondered who challenged whom.  Matt and Cougar quickly won. I wondered if they had been upfront about their superhuman coordination. They were each fifty bucks richer as the three men walked out, cursing under their breath.  "They just called me a chink!" said Cougar, looking like he was about ready to kick some ass.  "Calm down, bro," said Malcolm. "They'll get theirs."  Tired, I was hoping their billiards victory over the ignorant white men would be our signal to go. But, they wanted to keep playing late into the night.  At one point, all three of them looked up simultaneously towards the door. I followed their gaze. A man had just strolled in. He was a very attractive black man in preppy clothes.  "Don't look at him!" Matt said sharply.  I turned away. "Who is that?" I asked.  "A vampire. He's checking the place out."  "For what?" I asked.  "For wolves like us," said Matt.  "Party's over," said Cougar. "Let's go."  "No," said Malcolm. "Keep playing. We don't want to do anything suspicious."  And so, we kept on playing. The vampire stood there, looking around. The guy behind the bar said something to him, and then the vampire paid for a table and started playing by himself.  "Alright, let's go," said Malcolm.  We walked out of the club as coolly as possible. When we were safely back in the Chevy, I felt it must be safe to talk again.  "Did he notice us?" I asked.  "Probably not," said Matt. "We looked like everyone else in there."  "That's the first one I've seen around here since the massacre," said Malcolm. "I guess they're back."  "Forget about the blood sucker," said Cougar. "Check out what I got."  He pulled out of his pockets three wallets that were obviously not his own. He was grinning from ear to ear.  Malcolm grabbed one and looked into it. "One twenty," he said. "I could smell the cash on them."  "And now we have their ID's," said Cougar.  I didn't know why that would be useful, but I was too tired to ask. I fell asleep on the way home.  When we got home, I went straight to bed. Unfortunately, Matt and Cougar thought it the perfect time to play some more videogames. They finished at about two, and Cougar went up to bed as Matt turned off the game system, a sigh of relief passing through my lips.  "I'm not tired, are you?" asked Matt.  "Yes," I said, exasperated.  He paused for a second. "I'm gonna watch a movie on TV, okay?" he asked me.  "Mmm-hmm," I said, wanting to kill him.  I didn't fall asleep until after four.  *****  Russ woke me up again with the news at six. I wanted to cry.  Later that day, I was hoping to take a nap, but Matt was always using the TV.  "Shouldn't you be training for your fight with Will?" I asked him.  "I've trained for years. Not a whole lot of good a few extra days will do. Wanna play some videogames?"  I started thinking about ways to secretly destroy the television. Why couldn't there have been seven bedrooms in this fucking house?  That afternoon, I sat on my couch, praying for shut-eye while Matt played video games. Finally, my prayers were answered.  He started squirming around on the couch, looking uncomfortable. "Man, this couch sucks," he said. "It's really getting to me. How am I supposed to play my game if I'm not comfortable?"  Angry, he switched off the TV and left the house, saying he needed to unwind. With his absence, the house seemed to have adopted a peaceful serenity. I curled up on the couch, and drifted to sleep.  After what seemed like only several seconds of some soothing dream, Matt's voice ringed through my ears. "Bring it in here, guys," he was yelling.  I opened my eyes. Matt was directing two delivery guys into the house. In their arms was a brown leather recliner.  "Set it down over here in the living room," he was saying.  The men put the chair down in front of my couch, facing the TV. Then Matt saw them out.  "Kick-ass, isn't it?" he said, sitting into it. "I just bought it. Look, it has cup-holders. You could practically live in this chair."  Somehow I was sure that's what he was going to do for the rest of the day.  That night I was lying on the couch again, ready to go to sleep, but Matt and Cougar were playing videogames. Matt was sitting in his chair, obviously enjoying his new toy.  "Oh shit!" said Cougar, as he performed some incredible digital feat.  I got up and went into the kitchen, getting myself a glass of milk. Malcolm was there, in a pair of sweats and a big T-shirt that he always wore around the house. He was drinking tea, a very uncharacteristically effeminate thing for him to do. He lifted up his cup to me as I came in.  "It helps me sleep," he said defensively.  "I wish that would work for me," I said. "I'm afraid my bedroom is occupied at the moment."  "Those two?" he said. "Night owls. They'll be up all night."  "Hey Malcolm, you outrank them. Can't you order them to bed?"  He laughed. "I'm not gonna piss on them like that."  "Well, it was worth a shot," I said.  "I can do one better," he said. "You, sleep in my room. I have a big bed. You're welcome to share it if you like."  I thought that might just be too awkward. I had never shared a bed with anyone in my life. Even when my sister and I were small, my conservative parents thought it scandalous for a boy and a girl to share a bed.  >From the living room, I heard Matt shout, "I just beat your grinding score!"  "No way," said Cougar. "Not for long."  I smiled at Malcolm. "Alright, you're on."  "Go on up," he said. "I'll be up as soon as I finish my tea."  I was already in my PJ's. I went upstairs, went into his room, and turned on the light.  His room was quite messy, but the bed looked clean, made, and inviting. It was a double-sized bed that was in the center of the room, giving easy access to both sides. The right side had two pillows, the left had none. I figured he must sleep on the right.  I pulled up the covers and slipped into the bed. The mattress felt unbelievably comfortable after so long on the couch.  Malcolm walked in, and shut the door. "Take one of those pillows," he said.  "Oh, thanks," I said.  Sticking the pillow under my head felt like heaven. This whole time I had gone without one.  Malcolm pulled his T-shirt off, and tossed it into the mess on the floor. I was reminded how huge he looked. Muscular in a massive way. His shoulders and arms seemed as thick as my thighs. His abs jutted out, though they weren't cut. And his pecs were huge, with large, black nipples protruding a bit. Unlike Matt and Cougar, he was completely hairless. I had seen him without a shirt before, but it still managed to excite me.  He turned off the light, and got into bed next to me. He was so tall that his feet hung about a foot off the bed. He was so big that I wasn't sure if we would both fit comfortably.  I noticed he was on his side at his edge of the bed, facing away from me, and I did the same.  "Do you snore?" he asked.  "No, don't worry," I said.  "Oh, cause I do." He laughed his big-bellied laugh, and then seemed to fall asleep.  His snore started to come on mildly, but not enough to disturb my rest.  *****  The next morning I woke up feeling like I had just slept the best sleep of my life. Malcolm must have already gotten up...I was alone in the room.  I got up and went downstairs. Malcolm was eating breakfast, and I sat down to join him, getting myself a bowl of cereal.  "You sleep okay last night?" he asked.  "Yeah, I slept great. How about you?"  "I was fine," he said. "Kind of hot though. Look, anytime you want to sleep in there again, just let me know."  "Okay, thanks."  That night, I thought I'd try to sleep on the couch again. I didn't want to overstay my welcome with Malcolm. But Matt was playing videogames again. I played with him for a while, but soon got tired.  Malcolm walked downstairs and looked in at us, standing behind Matt.  "This game fun?" he asked.  "You bet," replied Matt without looking back.  Malcolm looked at me and shook his head, smiling. Then he nodded towards the stairs and raised his eyebrows.  I smiled back at him, and jumped off the couch.  "I'm going to go get some tea," he said to me.  "You do that," replied Matt, thinking that he was the one being addressed.  I headed up the stairs, and into Malcolm's room. It was hot...luckily the window was open. I took my shirt off as he got into bed. When I'm hot I like to sleep without it, and since that was how Malcolm slept, I knew it wouldn't bother him.  Malcolm came up a few minutes later. He was wearing his sweatpants and T-shirt again.  "You awake?" he asked, switching the light on.  "Yeah," I said.  "It's hot again tonight," he said. He took off his T-shirt like last night, and I thought he was going to get into bed. But then he stuck his thumbs into the waistline of his sweats, and pulled them down, leaving a pair of loose white boxers underneath. He tossed the sweats to the floor.  "Tonight, I sleep comfortably," he said, leaning against the wall.  "Thanks again for the bed," I told him, not exactly sure what he was doing.  "You like sleeping in here?"  "Yeah, of course," I said.  "You know I'm helping you because I'm your friend, right? Buddies always help each other out."  "Yeah, I know," I responded.  My attention was drawn to his boxers. They were really lose, but they sported what looked like a huge package. It was just sort of hanging there in a pouch of cotton. I just stole a quick look before looking back at his face.  "If I got to be alpha," he said, "things would be different around here. You, for one, would be treated with respect."  "Thanks," I said. "I wish you were alpha too."  "Then you're willing to help me get there," he said.  "You need help? What could I do?" I asked, positive that I was not qualified to help in any way.  "You could do more than you know. If I just had an ally, I think I could get to the top. You scratch my back, and I scratch yours, isn't that what they say?"  "I guess so," I said.  "You guess so? No. Either you're with me or you're not. Either we're a unit or we're nothing. Which is it?"  I thought about it. I couldn't see any reason why helping out Malcolm would be a bad idea for me. After all, he was the only one so far that seemed to take me seriously. "I'll do whatever you want," I said. Besides, if I refused, he could technically just order me around anyway.  "Good."  He turned off the light and walked over to the other side of the bed, getting under the covers.  "We'll talk more tomorrow. Goodnight."  "Night," I said.  Sometime that night I woke up from what I thought was snoring. Malcolm was snoring, but what's worse, he had moved positions in the night so that he was lying on his back. Trouble was, I had been lying on my back too. And so, the right side of his body was completely on top of the left side of mine.  It felt good to have the warm skin of his huge back over my arm, and his right arm sort of draped over my chest and down my body. His right leg was between my two legs, and his right butt cheek was right on my hip. But, he was so heavy that it really wasn't worth the trouble.  I didn't want to wake him, but I was too uncomfortable to sleep squished under him. I tried pulling myself out without much fuss. I failed. I had to push his shoulder up with all of my effort before I could squeeze out from under him.  Amazingly, he didn't seem to wake up.  "Malcolm?" I called.  Nothing.  I turned on my side at the very edge of the bed, and fell back asleep.  *****  "Are you awake?"  I felt a big hand on my shoulder, shaking me. I opened my eyes. White boxers and a huge package in front of me. I looked up. Malcolm was flashing that huge, crazy smile down at me.  "We need to talk," he said. "Everyone else is downstairs."  I sat up in bed. He walked to his door and locked it.  "Okay," I said. "Let's talk."  He walked back in front of me. I had to crane my neck to see his face, he was so tall.  "I have a plan. With a little luck it'll get me to alpha," he said, looking away.  "But, first you'd have to challenge both Russ and Case in fights, right?"  "Yeah. Russ is the real wild card. He was a marine. He knows how to fight. I've challenged him many times, and every time, lost."  I was surprised. Malcolm was so much bigger than Russ. "But you're so big," I said.  "Yes, but Russ uses my size to his advantage. He's always hitting low, tackling me, taking out my lower body. He's slippery. But, I might have a way to win the next fight I challenge him in. If I can get passed him, I think I could beat Case without a problem."  "But, isn't Case the best fighter in the house? How do you expect to beat him?"  "Well, I've never actually fought him. I've only been a part of this pack for three years. I joined them when I came to Philly. They were in the exact same pecking order that they are in now. I fought Cougar, then Mathew, and they were nothing. But Russ, I never got passed him. And so Case and I have never fought. Hell, I've never even see him fight. Russ has never challenged him. He's big like me, but I'm bigger. I know that if I had my chance, I'd take him down. And then, I would be alpha. We'd be living the good life, my friend."  "Sounds good," I said. I wasn't really sure what my role in this would be.  "But," he said, the smile fading from his face. "There's a wild card in all of this. Will. He's good. Took out Cougar in a matter of seconds. On Friday, he'll beat Mathew. And then next week, he'll fight me. I'm not sure if I can beat him. If I can't, our plans will be shot. I'd never be alpha."  He shook his head, and looked out the window.  "If only there was a way we could make Mathew win. If a challenger loses a fight, they can't challenge again for six months, did you know that?"  "No," I said.  "If Mathew were to beat Will on Friday, then Will would be stuck under him for half a year. We need to make sure he loses that fight."  "How can we do that?" I asked.  "Let me think about that. We'll talk again tonight."  He put on pants and a shirt and left the room.  Sometime after lunch that day, I saw Matt was watching baseball on TV. I sat down on the couch beside him.  "Where'd you go last night?" he asked me. "Cougar went to bed and I wanted to play videogames with you."  "I wanted to sleep. So I slept in Malcolm's room."  He laughed. "Malcolm is letting you bunk with him? Unbelievable."  That night, as Matt and Cougar stayed up late once again, I had gone to bed with Malcolm. It was becoming routine.  We were both in bed. He was in his boxers like before, and was resting on his side, his head propped up on his arm, looking at me.  "I have a plan," he said.  "What is it?" I asked.  "It involves you. I'll tell you tomorrow. Go to sleep now."  I shut my eyes and wiggled my head into the pillow. "Malcolm," I said, opening my eyes. "You said that you just came to Philly three years ago. What were you doing before then?"  "It's not important," he said. "Go to sleep."  I shut my eyes again. I rolled over, being sure to stick to my side to avoid the mistake I made the previous night, and fell asleep.  Sometime later I woke again to Malcolm's snoring. This time, it was much louder than before.  I turned myself around on the bed so that I was facing him. He was on his back again, his head tilted back and his mouth open, the sounds of snores pouring out.  I tried to shut my eyes again, but I couldn't get back to sleep. This was almost as bad as sleeping on the couch.  Then I got a streak of brilliance. I remembered that people usually snore when they are sleeping on their backs. If I could get him on his side, then he'd probably subsist.  I was scared to move him. I didn't want him waking up, pissed off at me. But I knew from the night before that he was a really heavy sleeper. I figured moving him around the bed wouldn't wake him.  I got on my knees on the bed, facing his body. I stuck my hands under him and lifted with all my strength. I was able to pry his right side off the bed, and lift him onto his side. I almost lost control of his momentum and caused him to fall onto the floor. Luckily, I caught his body, and stopped it.  Once he was settled on his side, I lay back down, for once having tons of space. I spread out on my back, enjoying the feeling of it, before settling back on my right side, facing away from him again.  I started drifting off to sleep when I heard a moan and felt him moving around beside me. He rolled onto his back again, and then kept on rolling so he was laying on his right side.  He pressed up against my back, stuck his left arm over me with his hand against my chest, and pulled me back into him. I froze. What was he doing?  I could tell by his breathing that he was asleep. He must have been completely unconscious of his actions. I was so much smaller than him he must have thought I was some stuffed animal or something.  I couldn't move under his huge arm. And his hand on me was so big it sprawled all across my chest. His hot skin against mine was really getting me excited. All over my bare back, all I felt the warmth of his firm, hairless chest. His armpit was pressed over my shoulder. He must have been sweating, I could feel the moisture. It was a hot night.  I didn't want to move, but what would he think when he woke up to find himself like this? Oh well, I thought. He was obviously the one holding onto me, not the other way around. There was no way I was going to be blamed here.  I shut my eyes, and fell asleep quickly.  *****  The next morning I woke up to an empty room. I looked over at Malcolm's side of the bed. A folded note on his pillow caught my eye.  `Meet me in the garage when you get up,' it said.  I crumpled up the note and threw it away. I wasn't sure about all of Malcolm's scheming, but knew I had already committed myself to helping him. I sighed as I put on some clothes and left the room.  Malcolm was in the garage tinkering with his bike when I walked in.  "We need to plan," he said. "Shut the door behind you."  A half hour later I was leaving the garage feeling very overwhelmed and not at all confident in myself. I couldn't believe I what I was going to have to do.  At noon, I was still feeling guilty and apprehensive as I ate my turkey sandwich in the dining room with Cougar and Russ, who was reading the paper. Case came strolling into the room with a shiny new pair of sunglasses on.  "There's a Dali exhibit at the museum I've been meaning to check out. Thought I'd go over there now."  Cougar looked up from his Hot Pocket. "You want to go look at dollies, Case?"  "No, you idiot, not dolly, Dali, as in Salvador, the painter. Anyone want to come?"  Cougar shook his head. "Anyway you spell it, it sounds gay to me."  Case turned towards Russ. "What about you, Russ?"  "Me? In an art museum?"  "Come on, you need to get out. What else are you going to do today?"  He nodded. "Alright, I'll go."  Case looked at me. "What about you, Rick?"  "Sure, I'll come," I said, feeling sure that the expedition would be an escape from my dreariness.  We were pulling the Chevy out of the driveway a few minutes later with Case behind the wheel. The museum was attractive and busy. As we started walking through its halls, Russ pointed to Case's sunglasses.  "You look like a fool wearing those things indoors," he said. I was surprised how casually the guys would just insult Case.  "They're my signature," he said.  "You look like fucking Tom Cruise," said Russ.  "No," I said, shaking my head. "More like Morpheus."  "Who the hell is Morpheus?" asked Russ. Did he seriously not know? I thought everyone saw that movie.  Case reached for his shades and pulled them off. It was the first time I had seen his eyes.  "I know why you wear them," I said. "Because your eyes look too kind without them." They were the only part of him that looked friendly and open.  Case turned red and looked away. "There's the exhibit."  We walked through the wall-hung paintings on display. I hadn't heard of Dali before, I was never in to art. But looking around, some of the paintings seemed familiar. Case seemed particularly interested in a painting of and old woman and a crutch.  After a while, I sat down on a museum bench, trying to go over in my head what I would be doing the next day.  "Is something bothering you, or are you just repelled by abstract art?" It was Case, he still had his sunglasses off, but he wasn't smiling.  "It's not the art," I said.  He sat down beside me. "Adjusting to this new life must be tough for you," he said. "But, in the end, I think you know that this is where you belong."  That's not what was bothering me at all, but I smiled and nodded anyway.  "Look, I'm not like the other guys," he said. "If you need someone to talk to, I'll listen."  "Thanks," I said. I was thinking about telling him then what Malcolm had asked me to do. Before I could decide if that was wise, Russ interrupted us.  "So, Russ," said Case. "Did you enjoy the exhibit?"  He nodded slightly. "I thought some of his paintings were pretty impressive. But then I read that short bio of him. He was one screwed up fellow."  Case shook his head. "You can't judge a body of work by the lifestyle of the artist."  "Sure you can."  When we were walking down the steps of the museum on our way to the car, Russ stopped us. He motioned towards a man sitting on a park bench about a block away.  "I can smell him from here," he said.  "Oh, yes," said Case.  "Wolf or vampire?" I asked.  "Vampire," said Russ.  I squinted, trying to make him out in the distance. He was just sitting there, motionless, watching the crowd.  "He's just waiting there," said Russ. "Waiting for us to come and kill him."  "He knows he's safe in the crowd," said Case.  "Not for long, he won't be," said Russ. "We wait until he leaves, and we follow him. Take him out."  "No," said Case. "These vampires, they've been appearing all over the city. Always alone, always an easy target. It feels like a trap. Let's just go."  Russ was disappointed, I could tell. But we left anyway. The vampire on the bench never budged.  That night, trying to get to sleep in Malcolm's bed, I kept going over every step of the plan in my head. I knew if everything went well, I wouldn't get caught. But what if something went wrong?  I woke up again that night, not from snoring, but from Malcolm pulling me with his arm into his body like he had done the night before.  "Malcolm?" I said.  No response. He really must be doing it in his sleep.  I loved having his body against my back. But I wanted more than anything to turn around and face him.  I rolled under his arm, turning so that I was on my right side facing into him, against his body. My nipples twinged when I brushed them against the warm skin of his chest.  He was so big that my eyes were about the level of his neck. His left hand was now against my back. I put my right hand on the side of his torso. No response. I slid it back around to his back. Still no response. I squeezed my arm, pulling myself tighter against him.  I felt his legs against my legs. Unfortunately, I was wearing long pajama pants so I didn't get to feel any actual skin contact. But where his crotch met my left thigh, I felt a large, heavy mound resting on my leg. I knew it must have been his package.  I was hard by then, but my cock was well constricted behind my underwear and pajamas.  I started to get sleepy again. Not wanting him to wake up with my arm around him, I put it back against my side before falling back asleep.  *****  Friday morning Malcolm's alarm clock went off for the very first time. We had to be up early today, I remembered, as my eyes opened.  We were still pressed together like we were before. Even thought his alarm clock was loud and shrill, he wasn't waking up.  I slid out from under him and got up before he woke up himself, slapping the alarm quiet.  "Are you ready?" he asked me, getting out of bed and putting his pants on.  "I think so."  He laughed at me. "You're nervous. It's not like we're robbing a bank or anything. It couldn't be simpler what we're doing."  I smiled and nodded.  He left the room, and I got dressed. I was supposed to meet him down in the kitchen. He didn't want us arriving there together. I grabbed what I needed, and headed downstairs.  Matt was sitting in the living room playing videogames.  "Hey Matt," I said, sitting down next to him, nervous.  "Hey."  Malcolm called from the kitchen. "Matt! Get in here."  "I'm busy," he said.  "I'm not asking!"  Matt grumbled as he set the controller down and walked into the kitchen. "Yeah, what?"  "There's nothing to eat in the house. Go out and get me some breakfast. And get some for the rest of the house, too."  "Are you fucking kidding me, man?" Matt whined. "I have a fight today. Ask someone else."  "I'm asking you."  "Fine, shithead. What do you want?"  He was taking his order when Will came walking down the stairs, fully dressed but looking groggy. It was 10:10. Malcolm said he always got up at ten, got dressed, and then came to get a cup of coffee. He walked into the kitchen.  "Nobody's made coffee?" he said, interrupting Malcolm's order.  "We're out," said Malcolm.  "Motherfucker," I heard Will say.  "But Matt's offered to get everyone breakfast," said Malcolm. "Right Matt?"  "Yeah, right," said Matt.  Malcolm walked out of the kitchen, winking at me as he went upstairs.  "Just get me a coffee," said Will. "Black. Nothing fancy."  "Right on."  Matt went upstairs, looking pissed, gathering everyone else's orders. He came down a few minutes later.  "What about you, kid? What do you want for breakfast? Better take advantage of me while you still can."  "I'll go with you," I said. "To help."  He smiled. "Really? Okay, thanks."  When we got back to the house, we had loads of food in our arms. Malcolm was waiting in the entry way.  "Where's mine?" he asked.  "Right here, sweetheart," said Matt, throwing him a small paper bag.  We went into the kitchen and piled everything on the counters.  "Okay, Matt, who ordered what?" I asked.  >From the other room, Malcolm was shouting. "Matt! Matt come here!"  "Jesus, what's his problem today?"  Matt left the kitchen.  "Yeah?"  "I ordered a breakfast sandwich. This is a bagel. I didn't ask for a bagel."  "Yeah you did, dumbass."  While he was out of the room, I popped the top off of Will's coffee. Slipping my hand into my pants, I pulled out the little ziplock bag that had the small amount of liquid in it. It had to be put in coffee, I remembered, to cover its taste. I quickly opened it, poured into the cup, and then stuck the bag back into my pocket.  "Oh yeah. I guess I did ask for a bagel. Good job."  "You're a moron, you know that?"  Quickly, I stirred the coffee with a spoon and replaced the lid. I was washing the spoon when Matt came back in.  "Breakfast!" I heard Malcolm shouting from upstairs.  Everyone came down to get their food.  "Where's my coffee?" asked Will.  I pretended like I didn't know. "Matt, where's Will's coffee?"  Will grabbed the cup and handed it to Will.  "Thanks."  I grabbed my own food, and left the kitchen.  All had gone smoothly. I was doubtful when Malcolm had told me the plan the day before.  "Why can't you be the one to do it?" I asked.  "No. If I am anywhere near that food, they'll know it was me. I have too much to gain."  "You want me to put arsenic in it?! Where the hell did you get that stuff? You're going to kill him?!"  "No. Don't worry. Wolves have strong stomachs. It'll just make him as sick as hell for a day or so."  In the afternoon, everyone besides Will was in the gym, giving pep talks to Matt. He looked pepped up, confident, and cool.  "It's time," said Cougar at four, when the fight was scheduled to start. "Where the hell is he?"  "I'll go see," said Russ, as he went up the stairs.  A couple of minutes later, Russ came back down, shaking his head.  "He's lying on the bathroom floor. He's really sick."  "Sick?" said Case. "Wolves don't get sick."  "Maybe he's just scared," said Cougar.  Will came down the stairs into the basement, looking pale and withered. He was holding his empty cup of coffee. My heart jumped. He knew. I glanced at Malcolm. He was staying back, acting cool.  "I'm not sick," he said. "I was poisoned. Somebody wants me to lose the fight."  "How do you know?" asked Case.  "It was this coffee. I thought it tasted bad. Now I know why." He threw the cup down and walked up to Matt, pushing him back. "You thought you'd gain the upper hand in our fight, huh? Not enough balls to take me on without a handicap?"  Matt backed off. "Look, man, I didn't do shit. I wouldn't do that."  "You were the one who got my coffee. Nobody else could have done it but you."  He shook his head. "It wasn't the coffee. I don't know what's wrong with you but it's not the coffee."  Case grabbed Matt and pulled him aside.  "What the fuck's wrong with you, man?" asked Case.  "It wasn't me, Case."  "Look, Matt, you're my boy, you know that, but you pull this kind of shit ever again, and that's it." He turned to Will. "We'll reschedule this fight for next week."  "You can't reschedule the fight," said Cougar.  "I can do whatever the fuck I want to do."  Will shook his head. "No. We settle this today."  Case looked at him, surprised. "You want to fight even though you're sick?"  "That's right."  "Okay," said Case, shaking his head. "Matt, did you decide what form you'll be fighting in?"  "Wolf."  They all went downstairs. Malcolm smiled at me as he went.  I heard them taking off their clothes. Then Case told them to start. There were growls, snarls, and yelps for a few minutes. It sounded awful.  "He's down!" shouted Case.  There were sounds of somebody dressing. People were congratulating him.  Will walked up the stairs, buckling his belt. I was shocked.  "Teach them to fuck with me," he said as he passed me.  Malcolm came upstairs, his frustration very transparent. I followed him upstairs.  "It's not over yet," he whispered to me when we were alone in the living room. "Keep your head low today."  Later on, when I heard Matt starting to pack up his things in his room, I went upstairs to see if I could help. I felt really guilty about my participation in Malcolm's plot that day, not because I didn't want Malcolm to get to alpha, but because of the damage I caused both Matt and Will.  When I got upstairs, I noticed Matt's door was open and he was just sort of throwing things into the hall. I peered in. He was taking his sheets off the bed.  "Hey," I said. "You okay?"  "Yeah, I'm okay," he said.  "You need some help?" I asked.  "Sure, kid, if you want to help I could use some. You've been real helpful to me today." I knew he was being genuine, which made me feel terrible.  We got all of his things out of the room and into the hall. "The room's all ready for Will now. You wanna tell him that? Every time I talk to him he just rails on me. That fucker. I told him that his accusations were crazy."  "Sure, I'll tell him," I said, as Matt went downstairs.  I knocked on Will's door.  "Come in."  When I opened the door, I saw he was doing push-ups on the floor of his bedroom.  "Seems like you're feeling better," I said.  He stopped and got to his feet. "I am."  "You still pissed off about today?"  He shrugged. "Yeah, I'm pissed off. But not nearly as pissed as I would have been if I had lost today. That kind of underhanded shit, that's not that unusual. Used to see it all the time in my old den. But that don't make it right, you know?"  I felt that familiar twinge of guilt again. "Yeah," I said. "Matt's room is all ready for you to move in."  "Let's see."  He stepped out into the hallway over Matt's pile of junk. He looked inside Matt's room.  "Bigger," he said. "He's got more windows. But I got my eye on that double bed of Malcolm's. Come next week, I'll have plenty of bed space."  That night, everyone except Will was watching a DVD Cougar had bought. Sitting on the couch, I was getting really sleepy, although the movie was engrossing.  About an hour into it, Malcolm went off to bed, giving me a nod. I waited about ten minutes and then slipped off without anyone noticing I was going.  His light was on when I got there and he was just getting into bed, wearing another pair of white boxers and nothing else.  "You sleeping in here again tonight?" he asked me.  "If that's okay," I said.  "Kid, it's always okay. Like I said, you and me are partners. My bed is your bed too."  I turned off the light, and took of my shirt. Then I recalled how much I wished I had been wearing boxers like Malcolm the night before. Malcolm wouldn't care if I was just in my boxers, that's how he slept anyway. I pulled down my pajama pants, lifted the covers, and slid into bed.  He sat on his side looking at me, and I did the same to him. "Look. It don't matter none what happened. You did everything right today."  "What are you going to do about Will now?" I asked, whispering. "He's already told Case that he's challenging you next Friday."  "I know. There's nothing I can do, except win. He's good man to man-- he's good wolf to wolf. He's proven that much. But nobody knows how he'll be in were form. So, that's what I pick. I'm strong, Rick. I'll probably beat him."  "Good," I said.  "And then I'll challenge Russ to a fight again. It's been six months since we did it last." He yawned. "But I'm tired now. We'll talk about this again tomorrow. Goodnight."  "Goodnight."  I woke up that night because he was snoring again. I looked over, and realized he was sleeping on his back. I turned around so that I was lying on my side, facing him. I'd have to lift him up again if I was going to stop the freight train that seemed to be lodged in his throat.  Then something came over me. I looked at his smooth, bulky body asleep in front of me, his dark skin shimmering in the silvery moonlight, and I realized how much I wanted to touch him. And why not give in to that urge? I knew that any touching I did wasn't about to wake him up.  I lifted my right hand and set it down in the center of his chest. I actually had to reach a good ways to get there, he was so broad. I pulled my hand slowly towards me, onto the center of his huge right pec. I touched his dark nipple with my finger. It was so much bigger than mine were. I traveled down towards his abs, feeling their round hardness under his soft and giving skin.  I looked down at his boxers. I could see a large cylindrical shape pushing the boxers into the air. It traveled from across hip right hip, towards me.  If I touched it, would he wake up? Touching someone's cock isn't like touching their chest. It's more sensitive.  But he was such a heavy sleeper. I decided that, even if he did wake up, he'd probably wake up really slowly, giving me plenty of warning to move my hand away.  I moved my hand down over his boxers, feeling the stiff fabric beneath my fingers. I touched what I knew must be his cock head. I pressed down, feeling it in the palm of my hand. It was soft and big. Rubbing around, I could clearly feel the head's rim, and knew he must be circumcised, like I was. I was a little disappointed. I had never seen an uncircumcised cock before. Then I reminded myself that I could count the number of cocks I had seen on one hand.  I moved my fingers along his cock. The whole thing was so thick, WAY thicker than my own soft. Heck, I thought it was a good deal thicker than my own hard.  It traveled so far horizontally before finally reaching his base. I rubbed the length of it again, trying to estimate its size. I thought it must have been about six inches soft.  I loved the feeling of it through that fabric. I reached under and grabbed where his balls would be, holding them in my hands gently. Surprisingly, they weren't super huge, although they were still bigger then my own.  My hand went back to his cock. I wished that I could reach completely around and hold it, but that was impossible through the boxers.  As I rubbed it, I felt a monstrous throb. It must have been responding to my touch. Afraid any excitement might wake him, I stopped my explorations.  I still had to turn him back on his side before I could go back to sleep again. I fell asleep with a burning erection.

 TO BE CONTINUED

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