CW: Teratophilia, werewolf, canine like anatomy.
Note: This is not beta read, so there will be mistakes ^^
Summary: Jaskier explores werewolf!Geralt's body and things become heated!
Geralt sits with his legs crossed, enormous hands between his meaty thighs. Across from him sits Jaskier who looks upon the mighty wolf with wonder and amazement. When Jaksier found out about Geraltâs secret, his ability to turn into a werewolf, he couldnât stop himself from begging to see it. Geralt only complies to shut the bard up.Â
Jaskier inches closer to Geralt, eyes dancing all over the place. âCan I touch you?â Jaskier asks, his hand already reaching out slowly to touch the white fur coating the witcher's now lupin form. Â
Nodding his head, Geralt agrees to let Jaskier touch him. What harm could it do? It was only them in the forest, not a single other soul for miles around. Besides, Jaskier loved touching his as a human, what difference will this make?
Reaching out, Jaskier touches Geralt on the arm. His touch is gentle and soft, no weight behind it. Geralt snorts, not seeing the point behind Jaskier getting cold feet now.Â
Gradually, Jaskier applies weight to his touch and he buries his fingers in the thick white fur. Geralt watches Jaksier with keen yellow eyes, curious as to what the bard will do next. Jaskier had a knack about him being unpredictable.Â
By now the two of thems relationship have become closer than just friends. All those nights sharing a bed, a bed role, and each other's warmth have finally graduated to soft touches, shoulder kisses, and tender moments. But nothing else just yet.Â
Jaskierâs hand runs down and up on Geraltâs arm. He wiggles closer till he is practically sitting in the wolfâs lap. Jaskierâs other hand joins the other in his petting, feeling up and down Geraltâs arm. When Jaskier stops, Geralt looks to meet his blue gaze. Entrapped by those eyes, Geralt almost misses the moment when a delicate hand comes up to cup his fluffy cheek. What follows leaves the great white wolfâs tail wagging. Jaskier kisses him on the nose, followed by his muzzle, and then his lips.
âI always wanted to explore every inch of you. More so now than ever.â Jaskier admits, always so blunt with his thoughts. Geralt enveys Jaskierâs ability to be so open with his words. More so, he admires him.
Nodding his head, Geralt gives permission by opening more of himself up to Jaskier by moving his arms out of the way. This time, Jaskier does crawl into his lap, hand meeting his fluffy chest to push him down till his back laid flat with the ground. Geralt doesnât fight Jaskier, curious to know what the other is thinking, what he could be planning.Â
Jaskier starts with Geraltâs neck, skilled fingers combing through the thick fur to scratch against skin. Geralt groans, tilting his head back, tail thumping happily. Jaskier has such wonderful fingers, he cannot wait to see what else he has planned.
Nails scratching gently against skin, Jaskier catches on to how much Geralt is actually enjoying this. All that fur has got to be itchy. He continues on, scratching and combing through Geraltâs thick fur. Slowly he makes his way down to Geraltâs chest, flattening his hands to feel the enormous muscle hidden by fur. He cups and gropes the muscle, feeling them under his hands. Geralt groans, mouth falling open to puff, his tongue lolling out the side of his mouth. He had not noticed the temperature climbing until now. He cannot believe how hot he feels.
Skilled hands tracing muscle, Jaskier goes lower still, scooting his ass back till he sits on Geraltâs lap. Geralt groans, the sound slipping out of him. His hands twitch, claws biting into the earth. He wants to hold Jaksier but he doesnât want to distract him from his journey.
Geraltâs belly proves to be sensitive. His tail thumping and foot wiggling when Jaskier scratches him. It feels so good that Geralt gives a little âawooâ. Jaskier giggles at the sound, continuing his scratching.
âYou are like a large dog.â Jaskier laughs and the sound is like sunshine, encouraging that heat to grow inside of him.Â
Jaskierâs scratching slowly comes to a stop eventually, hell bent on continuing his exploration. He traces the hard lines of Geraltâs belly, scooting back till he is sitting comfortably on Geraltâs thighs. Geralt focuses on those hands, knowing exactly where they are heading next. He raises himself up with powerful arms and looks down to watch, curious to see. But Jaksier stops, pulling his hands away.
Cheeks flushed red, Jaskier looks away. Geralt is confused, so he looks down at himself again. That is when he notices it. The flash of red poking free from his sheath. Ears heating up, Geralt wonders if he let things go too far.Â
âSorry. I um.â Jaksier looks as if he is at a loss for words.
Geralt shakes his head and reaches out to cup Jaskierâs face, his hand nearly swallowing his face. Geralt tilts his head and softens his gaze, nodding his head to let Jaksier know it was okay to continue. He had to know how far the bard was willing to go. So far, the only others willing to touch him like this were his brothers.
Jaskier grounds himself and goes back to exploring, starting back off with Geraltâs belly and tracing the hard lines down to his groin. Geralt keeps his eyes on Jaskierâs, Jaskier too focused on his own hands to notice the intense gaze coming from Geralt.Â
Shy fingers touch Geraltâs sheath, sending a jolt through the wolf. Jaskier pauses, pulling back only to reach back out a bite more confidently and take hold of the swollen sheath. Geralt sighs, panting as he breathes in the scent of Jaksierâs growing excitement. It pleases Geralt to know that his body excites Jaskier. Especially like this. He never would have thought.
Jaskier traces Geralt sheath with his fingers before taking hold of it in one hand. He grips the sheath and tugs, causing Geralt to fold forward some and groan. Jaskier is about to let go but Geralt is reaching down and encouraging Jaksier to continue. Jaskier does this by keeping his grip with one hand and tracing Geraltâs slit with the other. Jaskier fingers the red tip poking free, feeling the dampness gathered there with his thumb and forefinger.Â
âYouâre so hot.â Jaskier mutters. He feels around the slit, pressing in a little, finding there is enough give for him to slide his finger in. âAh!â Jaksier rocks against Geraltâs thigh. He is so turned on that his scent of lust clouds Geraltâs mind, making him feral for more. If it wasnât for his strong grip on reality, he might have already pinned Jaskier to the ground and fucked him like he was some bitch.Â
Jaskier straddles Geraltâs thigh so he can rut against him. Rolling his hips and grinding his length against the meat of Geraltâs fluffy thigh. Geralt thinks for a second to have Jaskier undress but he is selfish and doesnât want to lose Jaskierâs touch for the moment it would take to undress.Â
Jaskier fingers Geraltâs slit, same finger working against Geraltâs hardening prick, kept safe by his sheath. His sheath swells to accommodate the size of him, soon becoming too tight for Jaskierâs finger. Jaskier pulls out of the sheat and gasps as Geraltâs cock presses out. Jaskier still holds the wolfâs sheath with his other hand, gripping it tight and pumping his wrist up and down with slow motions.Â
Geraltâs mouth hangs open, tongue falling out of his mouth. He humps into Jaskierâs hand, needing more as his knot swells inside his sheath. Jaskier can feel it growing, fitting his hand over it the best he can while using his other hand to grip the red hot length that has slipped free of the furry sheath.Â
âHoly fuck.â Jaskierâs voice quivers as the words leave him. His eyes are blown wide as he looks down at his hands. It is as if he cannot believe what he is doing. âIs this okay?â He looks up at Geralt, needing reassurance.
Geralt nods his head, even blinking his eyes slowly like he knows cats like to do. As if on cue, a spurt of pre dribbles out of his cock to drip down onto Jaskierâs hand. The thin clear fluid running over his fingers. Jaskier collects as much of it as he can, bringing his hand up to look. He is fascinated by it, letting the fluid run loose. Then, Jaskier takes Geralt by surprise. The young bard brings his hand to his mouth and licks. Jaskierâs nose wrinkles at the salty bitter taste before relaxing.Â
âItâs different from humans.â Jasker mutters, still looking at his hand. Geralt can't help himself but lean forward and lick the corner of Jaksierâs mouth. His long tongue pressing flat and swiping against him. Jaskier turns red, gasping, mouth falling open. Perfect for Geralt to lick again, this time licking the inside of Jaskierâs mouth.Â
Geralt grabs Jaskierâs hand and brings it back down to touch his aching cock. He cannot stand to not have Jaskier touching him any longer. He needs Jaskier to touch, stoke, and hold. Meanwhile, Geralt pullâs Jaskier close so he can taste the wet hot heat of his mouth again. Licking inside over his tongue, Jaskier is sweet like candy, addicting.Â
Hand working, sliding up and down over Geraltâs cock, Jaskier goes to work, deliberately stroking him with one hand while the other squeezes and massages his sheath. Geraltâs knot swells, threatening to pop free at any moment. Jaskier thumbs the pointed tip of his cock while rolling his own hips so his clothed cock could get some kind of friction. From scent alone, Geralt knows Jaskier isnât far from creaming his pants.
Panting, Geralt pulls back and looks down at Jaksierâs hands. Drool runs down his tongue to drip on Jaskierâs hands. Jaskier ignores it, a man on a mission. Geralt humps into Jaskierâs hand, grinding up against his touch. He canât stop himself, knot slipping free. Geralt buck up, the need to knot Jaksierâs hands stronger than ever as his mind goes white. As if knowing what to do, Jaskier drips Geraltâs knot, hooking his fingers behind the pulsing base while stroking and squeezing with the other hand.
Cum splatters between them, the loose clear fluid coating Jaskierâs hands, shirts, thighs,Geraltâs furry belly. Jaskier groans at the sight, humping Geraltâs leg as he comes untouched in his pants.Â
More cum spurts out of Geraltâs cock with each pulse, each one weaker than the first. He spills more than a human man would and Jaskier wonders how good it will feel to have such a load emptied in him.Â
âGood boy.â Jaskier chuckles, calming down and gathering himself. He holds Geraltâs knot, unsure of when to let go. Geralt rolls his eyes at the comment and leans forward to lick Jaksierâs face.Â