Wolfe's mind was so goddamn hazy. Lathered in varying layers of alcohol and drugs, his altered perception forced him to recognize the slick rub of sweat descending his bared body, the heat pulsing from the walls of the crowded room, and the near earth-shattering pressure building in his groin. The acknowledgement of these elements scorched his red blood and melted all sensical thoughts. With nothing in his mind, the wolfboy's calloused hands grabbed around the bared waist of a moving stranger. In an instant, his devliish grin was a hair's breadth away from a fleshy neck, and his cock relished in the pressure that fuckin' ass gave him as he ground forward.
Even in his clouded mindset, the feral man could feel the various strangers pull away time after time. Yet, despite the aggravating loss of each potential fuck, Wolfe would barely notice when he would force another flush against his front and begin his assault once again. This repeated process dragged on to the heart of the club, where the speakers rattled his heart and the DJ played his set. It managed to gift him a blessing in the form of a lithe body and a tight looking ass. As he drank in the sight, the predator's mindset blacked out the world, only excluding the tender meat of the prey before him.
He didn't notice how he pushed away headphones when he nipped at the other's earlobe and made a home in the softness of his neck, nor did he feel the tense jerk the other produced when his hands snaked under the boy's shirt and grazed across his nipples. He didn't notice the change of surroundings, or the urgent voices around him. All he noticed was the swell of his dick against a heavenly pressure and his own physical needs. He was all tense muscles and hot air as his urges pressed him further into the other. "Please, just, fuck, lemme get one off on you, dude. You're — just.. fuckin' driving me insane with this damned body."
