This one's for Zuma... combined with the prompt for Weekend Fiction.
There was a scent on the air. A luscious scent. A scent that contained the meaning of life and all of its mysteries. The wolf inhaled it and let it consume him.
It was the consumer culture. The culture that he owned. He had built it, one piece at a time, one line at a time, one item at a time. It all started with Aloe and Vitamin E. She had used it on her skin. He made it into a soap for her. She thanked him with a kiss.
Then, one day, the Koch Bros walked onto the filthy stage. They tried to take over his soap manufacturing facility. They said that global warming was going to overtake his industry. Water would dry up. No one would use his soap because there would be no way to rinse.
Suddenly, a new guy showed up. Squeaky Clean Sanchez was his name. He laughed at the Koch Brothers. He knew them for what they were. They were Hands Across the World. They were out to dominate the globe, and meant to do it by taking over all of the soap manufacturers, everywhere. People need to be clean. We don't like being in a roomful of stinky people. If we all stunk, then we wouldn't congregate and collaborate. The Koch brothers would win.
The wolf was glad. He kept his soap. He kept her. Tonight, he would see her again. Here she was now. They came together.
They kissed. The wolf held her tight, one hand wrapped in her hair as he pulled her head back and licked her neck. She whimpered and struggled to get free. She got in close and bit him on the neck in return. He started, surprised. She had never done that before.
With a low growl, she pushed him back. A bench was behind him, he fell into it. She stalked towards him. He was becoming excited. It seemed it was going to be lady's night tonight. She approached the bench, bringing her left leg up and placing her knee next to his hip. She leaned in to kiss him, bringing her right knee up onto the bench. The kiss was hot and wet, tongues probing and twisting together. She pulled back, running her tongue behind his upper teeth, as she unbuttoned his shirt and slipped her hands inside.
Her nails lightly raked down his chest and across his nipples, which sprang erect. He grabbed her waist, holding her steady as she leaned down, letting her tongue follow where her nails had been. She licked and sucked at his body, pushing his shirt back and trapping his arms where they were. She slid off of the bench, one leg at a time, sliding herself down his torso, unbuttoning his button fly jeans. His hands reached for her, but she gripped them in her hands instead, and lowered her mouth, gripping the fabric with her teeth to move it out of the way...