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ID
151017
MD5
3f52b20de65afa93e4c0c4fd57d4a61d
Size
2048x2048 (4.8 MB)
Type
PNG
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Rating
Explicit
Score
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(hey kid ever had ya dick sucked and etc) directed by gridanon
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Description

Looks like you're about to!

A take on this meme: https://e621.net/wiki_pages/32888

Tech Talk

This was made with a local install of Reforge using the model 3WolfMond: https://huggingface.co/Xeno443 . I'd recommend any or all of the 'Mond models, they're all some of the best furry SDXL models.

I used Tail Tagger for tagging assistance: https://github.com/renfald/tail-tagger . Along with the JPT-3 model for AI generating tags: https://huggingface.co/RedRocket/JTP-3/tree/main/models?not-for-all-audiences=true

AI Story - Big Naughty Wolf

The forest smells of pine resin and damp earth tonight, heavy with the musk of late autumn decay. Moonlight slices through the canopy in silver blades, catching on the frost that rims every needle and fallen leaf. Somewhere distant, an owl’s low question goes unanswered.

You hear her before you see her—soft footfalls, deliberate, the faint scrape of claws on frozen ground. Then the low huff of breath, warm and visible in the cold air. She steps into the clearing from the shadowed hemlocks, massive and low-slung, her winter coat thick and frost-dusted along the ridge of her back. Charcoal gray fades to storm-cloud silver along her flanks, then to creamy white under her belly and throat. Her tail—long, bushy, black-tipped—sways once, slow, like a metronome counting desire.

She stops perhaps ten feet away. Head low. Ears swiveled forward. Amber eyes locked on you, pupils already blown wide in the dim light.

A soft chuff rolls out of her throat, almost a laugh.

“You’re late,” she says. Her voice is low, rough-edged velvet scraped over gravel. “Thought maybe you’d lost your nerve… or your scent.”

She takes one step closer. Then another. The motion is liquid, boneless; every pawfall silent now that she wants to be heard only when she chooses. You catch the scent of her—rich, animal, unmistakably female in heat. Not the sharp synthetic perfume of city streets, but something primal: heated fur, swollen sex, the faint copper tang of arousal already leaking between her hind legs.

She circles you once, slowly, tail brushing the backs of your calves. The thick brush of it feels like warm silk dragged across skin. When she completes the circle she stops in front of you again, front legs spread just enough that her belly nearly brushes the ground. The white fur there is matted slightly, darkened where her own slick has soaked through.

“Look at me,” she murmurs.

When your gaze drops she lets her hindquarters sink a little lower, arching her back so the swollen, flushed lips of her vulva are presented clearly in the moonlight. They glisten. A slow, deliberate drip of clear fluid slides down the inside of one thick thigh, leaving a shining trail through the fur. The outer lips are plump, parted just enough to show the darker pink inner folds and the tiny, twitching entrance that pulses faintly with each heartbeat.

“Smell that?” she whispers. “That’s all for you tonight.”

She takes another step, close enough now that the heat radiating from her body cuts through the November chill. Her muzzle lifts, nostrils flaring as she draws your scent deep. A long, slow lick rolls out of her mouth—broad, wet, dark tongue curling once around her own black lips before disappearing again.

“I can taste how hard you are already,” she says, voice dropping to a throaty growl. “Can smell it leaking out of you. Sweet… salty… desperate.”

Without warning she turns, presenting fully. Hind legs step wide. Tail lifts high and to the side, exposing everything. The tight pucker of her anus twitches once above the dripping slit. Her clit—engorged, pea-sized, glistening—pulses visibly with each heartbeat. Another thick rope of her arousal slides free and stretches, then snaps, dripping onto the pine needles below with an audible pat.

She looks back over her shoulder, eyes half-lidded, tongue lolling slightly.

“Don’t just stand there,” she rumbles. “Come closer. I want to feel how much you want this.”

When you’re near enough she sways her hips once, lazily, letting the soaked lips drag across the cold air. The motion makes a soft, wet sound.

“Fuck, I’m so full,” she groans. “Been aching since moonrise. Empty… throbbing… dripping like a bitch in standing heat. You’re gonna fill me up, aren’t you? Gonna stretch this greedy cunt until I can’t clench anymore?”

She lowers her front half until her chest brushes the ground, ass raised obscenely high. The position spreads her even wider. You can see the inner walls flutter, trying to grip something that isn’t there yet. Another gush of slick runs down both thighs now, matting the fur into dark spikes.

Her voice turns pleading, wrecked.

“Please… I need it. Need to feel you sink in slow—inch by thick inch—until my cervix kisses the tip. Need you to grind there, right against that hard little mouth, until I’m shaking and whining and soaking your balls. Need you to knot me so deep I can feel my belly swell with it.”

She rocks backward an inch, seeking contact, whimpering when she finds only air.

“Gods, listen to how wet I am,” she pants. “Hear that?”

She clenches deliberately. A lewd, sucking squelch echoes in the quiet clearing as her entrance opens and closes on nothing. Another flood of slick spills out, dripping in long strings.

“I’ll take it any way you want,” she whispers. “Slow and teasing until I’m crying for it. Or hard—rough—until my claws dig trenches in the dirt and I’m screaming your name into the trees. Or just… deep. So deep I can’t breathe around how full I feel.”

Her tail sways again, brushing your thighs, coaxing.

“I’ll milk you dry,” she promises, voice husky and raw. “Every pulse. Every spurt. I’ll clamp down so tight you see stars. And when you’re spent I’ll keep you locked inside, grinding back, working my walls around that swollen knot until you give me one more. Just one more. I’m greedy like that.”

She lowers her chest completely now, muzzle resting on crossed forelegs, hindquarters still raised like an offering. Her breathing has turned ragged; each exhale comes with a tiny, needy whine.

“Look how my clit’s throbbing,” she murmurs. “Look how it jumps every time I think about you sliding in. Look how my cunt’s drooling for you—look how it’s clenching, begging to be stretched around something hot and thick and pulsing.”

A long shiver runs the length of her spine. Her tail flags higher.

“I’m yours tonight,” she breathes. “All heat and slick and need. Take what you want. Take everything. Just… don’t make me wait anymore.”

She rocks back again—slow, deliberate—until the soaked, fever-hot lips kiss the air right in front of you.

A single drop falls. Hisses faintly against the frozen ground.

Then her voice, barely above a whisper, trembling with want:

“Please… fuck me.”

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