Dec 2nd - Scents and Arousal

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@KaySetonks You where the first one ever to comment on this now adventure. And with a hearty 'cheers' :-) This one's for you!

Watch the crotch, that's all I say about that picture. If you are new here: After homo-erotic fairy tales, he go head on for the first orgasm of the story. Yep, to guys participating. No joke. So... choose wisely!!

It happened every year since he was fourteen, always when autumn neared its end. Need and arousal would settle in, turning him into someone he didn't always like.

When it first happened, he thought that after being a bit slow on the uptake when it came to exploring his cock and what pleasures it could bring, he was just a little late blooming in that regard and a new found and very tight friendship with his right hand was all he needed until New Year's came and went and the high tide of lust subsided a bit, leaving fun and experimentation without the sometimes overwhelming and for a fourteen-year old hard to handle bouts of need.

Over the years, the tide had returned like clockwork, growing and changing every year, making it harder and harder for Linus to get through those months without losing his mind.

Exactly that was the reason why he had given his father and the whole pack the slip and started to prowl the gay bars inside the Toronto city limits. Even thinking the phrase "giving his father the slip" at the age of twenty five felt foolish to him, but it was nothing but the truth. For nine years he had spent time in his father's shadow now and he still didn't know how to deal with Ezekiel Beauchamp's open disappointment and indifference while the his father still tried to keep him as close as possible. It was especially hard to handle while his sanity was already under thread from the unquenchable desire to be taken that didn't necessarily line up with his normal preferences. Experimenting with submission while he was doing it of his own free will was one thing, having his body craving it while his mind fought it was a whole other ball game. And after a certain point, no orgasm that came from a toy could settle the restlessness.

And now this scent. Linus had caught a hint of it when he first entered the club, following it without one conscious thought. Scents became harder and harder to resist while he was in this state every year. The scents of men he wanted to get on his knees for, men he wanted to ravish him. But often this desire didn't feel like his own. It was like he was helpless inside his head while his body took over.

Most of the men around him had shed their shirts long ago. This was something he loved about clubbing, all the contact of naked skin that soothed another need that often drove him crazy because it got never satisfied when he was with his father's pack. The need for touch. He was a wolfshifter and going without even being hugged or just patted on the shoulder in passing for months at a time also turned him into something he often had a hard time dealing with. Being touched on the dance floor was purely sexual, or at least heavily suggestive, but feeling arms around him, the skin of someone's chest to his back, made it easier to breath.

Linus closed his eyes and leaned back into the man that had slung his arms around him from behind, giving up most of his control to the body behind him to lead their movements. The world around him dissolved into the base and sound, his head swimming from the cloud of pheromones and sweat hanging over the writhing crowd, but his nose still tried to find that one alluring scent that had made him enter the club in the first place. From time to time, he caught a whiff of it here and there, but it never was part of a trail he could follow.

It was hot and he was sweaty all over, some of the dizziness hinting at a lack of fluids in his system. No more alcohol for him until he had some serious amount of water. But he never drank much when he was out during this strange weeks in winter. After waking up with a giant hangover one morning in the winter he was sixteen and having his best friend Toby telling him what he was willing to get into when he wasn't master of all his senses, had made him forego most of anything that impaired his already wobbly judgment even more.

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