Highgate

In the suburbs of London, when wealthy Victorians died there was only one place to be seen dead. Highgate Cemetery. 37 acres holding over 170,000 souls at rest in the damp London clay.
The vast park was soon filled to capacity, trees and Gothic tombs and headstones cluttering up the lawns all vying for space. Then, within a generation, even the living who came to pay respects to the beloved, remembered dead where themselves gone. The gates where shut, and nature left to consume the weeping stone angels and heartfelt epitaphs under its relentless green maw.
It is then, the perfect place for a clandestine pack of werewolf's.

Roused from there dens by the rising of the winter moon,they came in groups of two or three from shattered mausoleums or open tabletop tombs shaking out the dew that had collected on the tips of there fur whilst they slept in huddled piles.
In a space, more a pit made by the falling of a tree was there alpha, Tim. It was not a very wolfish or scary name, he knew; but in this new life as a 6 foot 10 wolf-man he had quickly found out your size and sent meant more in the election of leaders, as well as other talents. He sat in the twisted roots of the tree, hairy curved back resting on an entangled bit of marble, uplifted when the tree fell in last years storms.

The pack was small, only 23 including Tim. He watched as they all arrived into the hollow below, some striding in upright on long powerful legs using there tails to help balance, others more animalistic in there approach on all fours, the hand like paws suited for both holding and running like a hound. They spoke little, if at all. content to let body language and sublte smells do all the talking.
it was as the friendly bonding began to get playful that Tim knew he had to get there attention on more human like matters of state, and not waste the night - again - on baser instincts.
He began to howl, low at first, then with a slight treble getting louder until all below could hear and began to join in, united in there sound of adoration to the moon. Tim stopped, and looked down to see all his pack-mates had
as drilled into them by his dominance sat down, facing front.

He smiled, showing off his large, off-white teeth. seeing the alphas pleasure with them caused some of the more enthusiastic members to begin wagging there tails."Brothers!" Tim began, in a
voice that rumbled deep in his the barrel chest. "So glad you could make it, hard day at work?" This earned him some low panting titters. Tonight it is important we coordinate the expansion of our territory beyond the safety our ancestors provide. I want you yo go out to St. James park and extent the scent markers out further then we ever have before. Winter is here and if we are to feast on more then sausage (more titters) then we will be needing to borrow Her Majesty's deer. Hamish, take Toby and....

At the back of the pack, sitting behind two rows of furry body's almost unseen from Tim's position at the front was Simon. Simon was finding it hard to follow what the Alpha was saying, not that he was stupid, oh no. The issue was compared to most of his pack-mates, and especially Tim, Simon had taken very very well to the more instinctual attributes of his new life in the pack. What did enter his soft lupine ears however, perking them back up was the talk of sent-marking. Now that was a welcome word among the verbosity of the alphas speech! Just him and his pack, running across rooftops or dark alleys away from the Met's CCTV network taking turns on trees in the park seeing who could piss highest, everyone together stretching and sniffing and - And that was it. Simon looked down into his lap to see the red tip of his penis was already poking out of its fuzzy sheath. Fainting an itch to bite, he bent down at the waist from his sitting position to lick the small drop of pre on the tip, panting slightly as the smell of his own arousal emanating from the sheath, already begging to draw back and expose more of his red wolf-cock, teased bay the feel of breath playing over the vainy thin skin. he longed to stay prone like this and start licking with the long rough tongue in his mouth, but he did not want to displease his alpha by not paying attention to his words, so settling for a quick brush with the tip of his tongue, Simon sat up and re-adjusted his body so his tail came up under his butt, hiding his crotch and began to gently stroke himself with the softer parts of his paws.

However, the one thing he could not hide was the smell of his distraction. the two wolfs aside Simon soon smelled what was up, an at first toed the line by softly parting a lip to expose a tooth and growl a warning to behave. Lost in his own bliss, Simon was letting a stupid smile rest on his face. A revere ended when the two wolfs hissed at him to behave, and put claws on his member, scratching it in a painful way. Simon stopped has masturbation and whined inaudibly; and as a sign of submission rolled over presenting his neck to the wolf on the left, and his balls to the one on the right. As he did so, Simon spotted both had began to sweat, a slight wiggle of the jaw as they swallowed uncomfortably. He knew why, both where dominant tops, and the smell of a horny submissive was taxing all their willpower to pay attention to the alphas now overlong speech. Slowly and with deliberate motions, Simon edged his muzzle into the dominant wolfs lap and began to lick his sheath, while flicking playfully the other wolf with his tail. Both their heads stayed true, looking dead ahead to the tree roots, but slowly they began to let go. Simon's licking progressed to sticking his tongue into the sheath of his now heavy breathing dom
erecting as if some lewd prize the large cock to which he greedily began to nurse. Unable to ignore the tail flicking him or the ass it was connected too, the second wolf took one surreptitious look round then plunged his muzzle into Simon's gray furry crevice to prepare the pert ass for his own growing member.

By this point all ears on the remaining werewolf's swiveled like SETI telescopes to the commotion brewing in the back seats. Tim had at this inopportune moment turned his back to all of them, to better point out stars needed for the nights plan. When he turned back, to end his speech with a rousing call to action he slumped like a puppet abandoned by the puppeteer. All of his pack where paired off in two or threes, churning up the dirt into a mud bath. The smell of wet dog and sex was powerful enough for even a human to detect. There in the center of it all, where the mass of sweating pelts humped to growing satisfaction each others exposed holes or open maws, tongue lolling was Simon unrepentant. Muzzle stained white by spurts of hot cum from the cock held in his paws, gripping his partners knot in an attempt to aim the rich mainly fluid down his throat, while from behind he was knotted, rear-to-rear with another, who while shooting loads into him was busy prepping the next submissive wolf for action buy lifting his tale to better lick from his balls and up to the waiting hole.

Seeing that nothing was going to get done this night , Tim roared with anger, then jumped down into the pit, now sticky with the spilled seed of 20 wolfs, to remind them why he was the alpha male, in the way they would understand - that in orgy's he had first choice in mates. Picking Toby his favored brown hair little wolf, he pushed him off the knot he had been riding and picking him up with both hands jammed his larger dick inside, electing a squeal that only drove Tim to pump faster. Position assured, the rest of the werewolf's if not already stuck, ceremonially offered there own tail-holes, as tribute then resumed fucking. For now, Tim's dream of Elizabeth's venison gracing the table in his Egyptian Avenue den would have to wait.