Primal Instincts

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Tyrande's frustrations are eased by a certain worgen.
4k words

Part 2 of the 2 part series

Updated 06/13/2023
Created 08/29/2022
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A request as well as a sequel to my other story "Primal Desires" which is in itself a sequel to "Wild Temptations."


"Damn it."

Tyrande cursed and closed her eyes, her arms falling limp upon the bed. She was coated in a layer of sweat, chest rising and falling as she sucked in air. She just couldn't reach it. Her hands weren't good enough anymore. Not now, not after him.

Sighing, she ran a hand over the supple curve of her breast and then stepped out of bed, frustrated and angry. Still naked, her purple body glowing under the faint light of a blue lantern, she paced about the room, hands clasped behind her back. Her bare feet padded restlessly against the wooden floor--not planks, but actual, living wood--and her mind raced, a flurry of emotion behind a beautiful mask.

She ached to be filled, to be satisfied, but she was stubborn. What was she supposed to do, seek him out and beg for his cock like some fawning doxy? No. She wouldn't do that again. The first time she had surprised him, had come with her own confidence and control. If she went to him a second time things would be different. If only the fool would seek her out instead...

The walls around her felt cramped, confining her like a tiger in a cage. She shook her head, jostling the green braids atop her bare chest. The soothing remnants of a breeze floated in from the circular window formed within her wooden dwelling, caressing her skin and making her sigh. That was it. Air is what she needed. Air and the calming tranquility of nature.

And so, after stepping into a pair of sandals and throwing on her ivory nightgown, thin and diaphanous as it was, Tyrande slipped outside, traveling without purpose until she was away from the glimmering lights of the Heart of the Forest. Lost in frustrated thought, her unguided footfalls took her to an old cobblestone road chinked with moss. She followed it, more as an unconscious decision than anything else, a spring in her step as she walked along the forest-claimed path. Looking around, she took in the impossible beauty of Ardenweald with its perpetual night, blue grass, shimmering fog and trees that breached the clouds above. The land about her was lush with fauna, and though there were hills everywhere she looked, the path she was treading remained conspicuously straight, as if every step she took flattened the hills beneath her. Not one to question the physics of the Shadowlands, she nevertheless stopped to assess the lay of the land.

Looking around and taking in her surroundings, she realized where she was--where she was going. The path was leading her to him.

Tyrande looked down at the cobbled path, eyes narrowed suspiciously, but if the road had planned this it would not give up its secrets. Crossing her arms below her bust, she glanced forward and backward, contemplating what to do. Improbable as it was, she didn't like the idea of being led on by a magic road. Moving to turn around and return to the Heart of the Forest, she spotted something in the distance. Something large and familiar.


The worgen--Garin Brant--walked upon the same road she was on, coming from the opposite direction straight towards her. She muttered a curse and thought to ignore him, to turn and be on her way, but her feet were glued to the mossy rock beneath her sandals. Something inside of her leaped, however, and she realized that this was perfect. A chance meeting in the woods. An accidental rendezvous. A fling arranged by a magical mossy road.

Whatever it was, he was soon upon her, looking just as surprised as she was. He stopped a few paces from her, looming over her with his wolf-like head cocked in confusion.

"What are you doing out here?" he asked.

"Clearing my head," she said, struggling not to notice how little he was wearing. "Why? Were you searching for me?"


She blinked then, taken aback by his bluntness.

"I see."

They looked each other over, doing little to conceal the desire in their eyes. She was wet, aroused, and ready, and he could smell it, too.

He seized her then, taking her in his strong arms and darting his tongue out to taste her lips. Surprised as she was, she was nevertheless unbelievably horny and open to just about anything. Accepting his tongue into her mouth, she sucked on it and dueled it with her own tongue, pressing her lips hard against his snout. His hands worked at removing her gown, and they broke off briefly so that it could be lifted over her head. Once it was off, they returned to swapping spit while his hands roamed her body, massaging her ample breasts and treading further downward until his hands gripped at her round backside.

Tyrande moaned into him, her desire rising as he squeezed her ass and claimed her mouth. Finally, after an inscrutable amount of time had passed with his tongue slithering between her lips, he drew back and licked her face from chin to forehead, leaving her sparkling with saliva. Blinking in surprise, she hadn't the time to say anything, for he soon continued to the next stage of their coupling.

He took hold of her by the leg and behind, drawing her up until her thighs rested atop his shoulders. Grasping her by the ass, he sniffed at her loins, smelling her arousal and throwing fuel onto the flame of his desire. Before she could do more than gasp in surprise, he issued forth his tongue and tasted her slit, dripping with arousal already. He felt her body tense and her thighs tighten around his head, prompting him to lick her again, building into a series of quick laps at her pussy, spreading her petals and eliciting throaty moans from the elf, dredged up from a well of great and profound yearning.

"That's good," she breathed. "That's so good."

His tongue slithered into her canal, deep and probing, his breath hot against her mound. Tyrande grasped at his furry head, burying her fingers in the great black mane of hair around his neck, desperate for both stability and further pleasure. At her urging, he alternated between lapping and tonguing at her womanhood, drawing her to a trembling orgasm that was marked by a powerful moan shouted into the wind from atop her perch on the worgen's shoulders. He slowed but didn't stop, eating her out with his long canine tongue until she came again, this time with a moan slightly louder than the last.

Shaken but not perturbed, she tapped him on the head, prompting him to lower her to the ground. Immediately sinking to her knees, she spared not a single second before wrapping her lips around his tool. It throbbed crimson but she soon engulfed it utterly, hiding his great red length within the cave of her throat. He groaned and her long ears twitched in satisfaction, but she was already pulling back and getting ready to go again, taking him into her throat over and over. Tyrande deepthroated him with fervor, coating his cock in a thick layer of saliva mixed with pre-cum that had her tongue tingling in delight. She sucked the towering worgen off with noisy gurgles and gulps, but she was both skilled and persistent, earning frequent moans from the hairy beastman.

Somehow, she liked his flavor, liked the feeling of his cock in her mouth, and liked it when he came down her throat.


Tyrande froze her fellatio midway and grasped one of his hands, placing it upon her head and eyeing him with an obvious request. Accepting it after a moment's hesitation, he gripped her by the head and guided her along his cock, moving his hips in time with the forced bobbing of her head. He was slow, considerate even, and as he dragged her lips along his scarlet manhood she stared up at him, eyes reflecting nothing but lust as the ancient beauty of her face was stretched by the cock plugging her mouth. He felt an instinctual urge to breed her course through his very being and he gasped, tearing his eyes away from hers and letting go.

Gods this woman was good.

Tyrande seemed upset at this and she drew herself back, allowing his pointed tip to escape from her lips. "Look at me," she ordered, a tendril of drool and pre-cum forming a bridge from her bottom lip to his cockhead.

Naturally, he did as commanded, staring down into her needy yet predatorial eyes. Nodding, she got back to work, throating him with deep strokes that had her throat bulging with worgen dick. She did this for a few minutes more before an idea popped into her head and she leaned back, letting his tool drop from her lips. Grinning, she grabbed at her impressive bust, pressing her tits together around his tool and earning an exclamation of surprise from him.

Working them up and down, back and forth, she titfucked his pulsing red cock between the smooth flesh of her purple mountains, showering them in saliva and occasionally leaning down to suck on the peeking tip of his manhood. As she did this, massaging his tool with her pillowy breasts and slurping on his crown, she stared into his desperate eyes and, at last, with a grunt verging on a whine, he came.

Tyrande stopped what she was doing and took hold of his length, devouring it once again. She throated him in his entirety, lodging his cock down her gullet and undulating her throat against him as he came. A great load burst forth, creamy, viscous, and no doubt potent. He shot it directly down her throat, filling her empty stomach with a great bowl full of worgen jizz. Tyrande hummed in appreciation and as his roar tapered off, the last spurts of cum came to a halt.

Continuing to hum, she cleaned him off slowly, sliding her plush purple-painted lips up and down his length until any residual cum had been sucked down her throat and into her cream-filled stomach. Retreating with an audible pop, she stood up and looked him over, a sly smile on her face.

"Thanks for the meal," she said, turning and swaying towards a nearby tree. "But I think it's about time you put that third leg of yours to good use."

Still panting and recovering from his orgasm, he watched her as she walked, her perfectly rounded ass hypnotic as she moved. When she reached the tree, she bent over with her legs squeezed together and took hold of it with her hands, gripping at the bark while shaking her ass from side to side, gently, as if in a breeze pulling her back and forth. Her head turned, looking back at him with an expectation that she knew he would fill. Utterly.

Rushing towards her, he eyed her bent form, admiring her muscular body and the way her sweat emphasized every line and curve of her gorgeous figure. Toned as she was, Tyrande was still overtly feminine with full breasts, a slender waist, wide hips and an ass big enough to take a proper pounding from someone three times her weight. Grinning as he remembered their previous encounter where he had knotted her ass, he pressed a thumb against her little star and chuckled as she shivered.

Taking a firm hold on his cock, he maneuvered it between her powerful thighs, pressing forward and then leaning back. Finding this to be surprisingly pleasurable, he took on a faster pace, fucking her thighs while his manhood teased against her moist slit.

Tyrande lowered her head and looked down, watching as the worgen's cock pressed between her thighs and dripped with pre-cum onto the forest floor. It was a tantalizing form of teasing and she licked her lips, enjoying the sight but feeling the hungering need for more. His hands were suddenly on her ass then, squeezing them possessively and leaving faint lacerations on her cheeks. His cock disappeared from between her thighs, and as she anticipated its reappearance, it instead slammed home into her purple pussy, saying hello to her cervix and then retreating followed by another quick thrust.

She cried out and threw her head back, taking another few strokes of the worgen's plundering cock. Like in their previous couplings, it felt exquisite, and her body trembled on the verge of another explosive orgasm. He howled as he began to rut into her, his large body shadowing hers while he dominated her pussy with shallow yet fast strokes that had her eyes rolling and ass jiggling. Tyrande grit her teeth, a groan akin to a growl rising up from within her as she failed to hold off an impending climax. Another series of thrusts and her groan morphed into a whiny mewl, her body trembling and pussy quivering around his crimson girth.

A smack against her backside wobbled her round asscheek and brought her back down to reality. Tyrande looked back at him, beautiful elven features twisted in pleasure. Before, she would have admonished him, but now she said nothing even as he spanked her again. She liked it and he knew she liked it.

Garin worked her like this for a quarter hour, pounding the Kal'dorei matriarch's greedy pussy with deep thrusts and raining hard slaps upon her booty, enjoying the way it discolored into the shape of his hands. Eventually, however, he decided to take things a step further.

Wrapping an arm around her and pawing at her breasts, his other hand took hold of her throat, pulling her upright and flush against his body. Tyrande squirmed, but he bent her head back and pressed his tongue against her lips, his hips still working his girth into her womanhood. She accepted his tongue after a moment of hesitation, moaning around him and pressing her lips against his long snout. Tightening his grip around her throat, he pistoned himself into her, beating her pussy with shallow thrusts that soon had her squirting onto the lush grass. Not stopping his assault, the sound of Tyrande's thick booty clapping against his groin seemed to pierce the forest silence like thunder even as her muffled moans reverberated throughout.

Eventually though, when she grew quiet, he pulled out and turned her around to inspect her. Tyrande looked at him, mouth open and her perfectly full breasts rising and falling atop her panting chest. Grabbing and squeezing one, he then licked her face again, trailing it from bottom to top as he had done before.

Tyrande blinked and then pressed her hands against his chest. In the next instant, she shoved him backwards, causing him to fall on his back, the plush grass acting as a cushion. Surprised at her sudden show of strength, he did nothing as the warrior-priestess straddled him like a nightsaber, guiding his erect cock to her entrance and skewering herself on it. She grunted and bit her lip but otherwise kept going, quickly entering into a brisk pace that had her impressive backside thumping against him. Tyrande rose and fell, rose and fell, riding the worgen like an expert, her great mountainous breasts bouncing and her lavender body glistening with a dazzling layer of sweat.

She noticed him tracking the movement of her breasts with his eyes and she smirked, lifting both hands to her tits and squeezing them together, rolling them atop her chest and filling her hands with more than they could contain. Unconsciously, he licked at his lips and her smirk grew wider. She lifted one of her breasts to her mouth, bringing an erect nipple to her lips and sucking on it as he watched, still bouncing atop his manhood. He moaned what sounded like a whine, and her mean streak dissipated. Deciding to stop torturing him, she leaned forward and grabbed his head, directing him to her breasts.

Darting his broad tongue out, he lapped at her bosom, lifting her ample breasts with his tongue and teasing at the little nubs of her nipples. He slobbered all over them, even taking her breasts into his mouth and being extra mindful of his teeth. Satisfied with the fat elven tits in his face, he nevertheless desired a bit more control in their arrangement.

Wrapping his arms around her while she leaned forward against him, he pushed her down upon him, forcing the entirety of his member deep within her snug cunt. Tyrande yelped and instinctively moved to sit up but he held her against him and gave her ass a crackling smack. Subdued, she held onto him as he grasped at the thick cheeks of her behind, squeezing them and thrusting up into her with quick, shallow strokes that had her breasts jiggling against his tongue. She came multiple times, body shaking and pussy tightening, but she couldn't help but feel a deep, dark desire for something more. Something she shouldn't feel, not for him anyway. Still...


The worgen slowed and she brought her mouth a handsbreath away from one of his fluffy ears. Her lips moved, slightly curved into a sly smile as she whispered to him.

"I... What?" he asked, blinking rapidly.

Her wicked smile grew and she pulled back to look at him, amused at the expression upon his face.

"I said, breed me," she whispered again, this time louder. "Seed my womb, Garin."

He said nothing.

"Do you want me to beg? Because I--"

In half a moment she was picked up and slammed against the tree from earlier. Eyes wide, and with his cock still inside of her, she wrapped her arms and legs around his muscular body just in time for the first stroke. He pressed close to her, filling her vision and ravaging her tight womanhood with thrusts that had her gasping. He had given her the best lay of her life before, but this was something else entirely. Garin moved at a blur, growling and staring at her like an animal as he pummeled her pussy until she was grunting and squealing like a virgin, his heavy nuts swinging with a potent portent of what was to come.

Tyrande cried out, head up to the sky as she shouted her orgasm into the treetops, vaguely noticing a small flock of birds take flight while the worgen continued to claim her pussy for his own. Not a single intelligent thought crossed her mind, just a wonderful, constant and all-pervasive pleasure that enshrouded her entire being. Looking down, she watched as Garin's cock, searing red in color, slid in and out of her with ease, relentless in its quest to fertilize her. His knot, visible and tantalizing, thumped against her. Trembling with another orgasm, she buried her head in his hairy shoulder and bit into it, moaning loudly, her fingers clutching tightly at the fur on his back.

The worgen was untiring, his thrusts clean and steady with all the power and speed his huge body could muster. Tyrande on the other hand was helpless as he dominated her against the tree, a disheveled mess of Kal'dorei royalty reduced to a beast's cock-sleeve. Fucked stupid, her mouth was perpetually open with a series of throaty, if not raspy, moans, grunts and groans that carried far into the forest, greeting the ears of anyone or anything in the nearby woodland.

In this moment she did not care about propriety, however, just the nonstop knocking of worgen dick against her cervix, stretching her walls and making her shiver with uncountable orgasms. Still Garin did not stop, his behemoth of a body slamming hers against the tree with strokes that sacrificed neither power nor speed. She could do nothing but ride the crest of her orgasm until the next quickly took its place, moaning weakly, her face contorted in an overabundance of pleasure.

Her body, strong yet feminine and fully womanly, dripped with sweat, losing strength by the second as if each thrust into her core sapped her energy, until she could do little but hang onto him as he bounced her on his cock. Garin on the other hand seemed no worse for wear, though his huffing and panting increased two-fold. A part of her worried about that and the implications it might hold for his body, but a clean stroke from his plundering manhood exorcised that thought from her mind. She yelled in climax, noticing but ignoring a small group of travelers watching from the road. Wrapped around Garin's huge form as she was, she doubted they could even identify her.

His knot pounded against her with every thrust, seeking entry but not quite finding it. This only seemed to spur him on even further and he grabbed her by the hair, yanking up and dragging his tongue over her neck. Tyrande shivered and moaned, her voice meek and lacking its former sharpness. Her clinging legs shook against him, breasts bouncing, muscles tensing and untensing, ears wiggling and her pussy constricting around his member. The worgen fucked her ragged, determined to do exactly as she had requested, fucking her purple pussy with balls-deep thrusts and hammering his knot against her.