The Wolf and the Tiger
by Batian (C)1999
It's a tough, rough job being a forest ranger, but, like they say, someone's got to do it. I'd come here after splitting up with my wife. Too many differences between us, no common ground between two people who'd been married for four years, and the inevitable heartaches - but India had a special calm that seemed to help me relax and start to get over the end to our relationship. I landed a job in the Ranthambore National Park and, in time, I learned to love the wildlife.
There are many tigers in Ranthambore; but the huge cats are so shy and secretive that any time I actually saw one I'd gloat about it for weeks after.
Occaisionally, driving the Jeep down one of the rough-and-tumble forest paths; always carefully and quietly; I might catch a glimpse of flame-orange and black seething through dense undergrowth, prowling for prey, staking territory, living their enigma-shrouded lives with as much mystery as they had for millions of years. Paradoxically, the first time I saw a tiger clearly, out in the open, I was so entranced by the hidden nature of the beasts that it came as a kind of letdown. They were creatures after all, under the edge of the unknown, with their faults and follies, cares and mistrusts, loves and fears.
The tiger I saw was a big female in her prime. Strong, proud, magnificent. She stood watching me without comment, furry black-tipped ears swivelling. Then, with a slow confidence, telling me in the unspoken word that she was the holder of this territory, this world of bush and sun, she turned and paced silently back into the dappled forest from whence she'd come.
And I started breathing again.
After that I kept an eye out for her during my work; the surveys and monitoring patrols, the frequent drives deep into her forest realm. I knew I would be lucky to see her more than twice in a blue moon ; yet several times I did see her. Always alone; as tigers are not known for their tolerance of other tigers; and always with the same spiritual feeling that left me breathless.
Alone, that is, until the day of the wolf.
There aren't many wolves left in India, and when I saw the animal I first thought it was a stray dog from one of the nearby Indian villages. But the bushy tail, pricked-alert ears, and elegantly narrow muzzle finally told me what it was. A male wolf ; alone, with no pack.
Maybe he was an outcast. Maybe the tigress, too, was an outcast; for she certainly came padding up to the wolf as though they were the friends each other lacked. In fact, I thought the two were going to have a fight. The wolf turned to face her as she approached, and I braced for the expected snarls and growls and flying fur. But no. What was this? The two greeted each other, really as friends, and old friends too by the way they acted: the wolf jumped up and licked her ears, and she rubbed her great head gently against him, two different greetings accepted by animals normally alien to each other. He pranced around the tigress, smaller than she was, of course, and playfully bumped her shoulder while she batted him with a soft but huge forepaw; clearly they'd been together for a long time and were well adjusted to each other's quirks. I wondered what on Earth could have done this thing ; brought a grey wolf and a big Indian tigress together. Very soon, I would have my answer.
Through my camera's viewfinder I watched the two play, and noticed the wolf was paying a lot of attention to his feline friend's rump. On a higher zoom I caught a flash glimpse of the tigress's vulva ; and understood. Pink, moist, and swollen, she was on heat.
I knew there were male tigers in the Park. They generally held territories several times larger than the tigresses, with the result that a male territory embraced those of several females and if a tigress came into breeding condition she could be sure to have an eager male arriving soon on her doorstep. It's a pretty good system, which has worked for millions of years, but like all systems it sometimes fails to work. This tigress appeared to be on the outskirts of a male territory ; perhaps she'd never mated and her regular heats were frustrated by enforced virginity.
But when, after a bit more playing with her friend, the big cat deliberately turned her rump to him and crouched, arching her back and straddling her hind legs apart, exposing the soft black slit of her female entrance, I knew this tigress was ; technically at least ; no virgin.
She crouched there, waiting, gazing steadily ahead of her. The wolf circled around behind her and I noticed his broad, furry sheath swinging heavily under him ; he was getting an erection, and as he climbed onto the cat's broad, eager rump and began a series of rapid, pummelling thrusts against her I actually saw his penis slide out, long, pink, and glistening, just as it would for a she-wolf. He rubbed it eagerly against the tigress's rump, trying to find the way in; she arched and lifted her rear further, helping him, her vagina now in full view between her dark outer lips. She leaned her head forward over crouched forepaws and waited for his penetration, but he couldn't find the target, his penis, now fully erect and swelling hard, poked her tail base about four or five inches too high. Taking photos of the sex act I found myself mentally urging the wolf, "Go on, further down, get further down . . .
She swung her hips, tail arched, giving him her frantically eager entrance. At last the straddling wolf, still thrusting like crazy, worked himself further forward astride the crouching tiger and with his nuts dangling heavily between spread hind legs finally got the tip of his swelling penis into her vulva. He paused to see if he was in the right place, and then slid into her. All the way. The tigress opened her mouth and growled as it went in; gripping her waist with his front legs the wolf settled astride the big cat and began to thrust like never before, eyes glazed with happiness, his dark paired balls swinging under his loins. The tigress's vulva stretched to accommodate his now enormous pink cylinder. He humped forward, treading with his front paws, making the tiger's open labia push his sheath up the length of his penis until it slid over the two huge bulbs at the base ; seconds later he'd got his knot into the tigress as well and was riding her arched rump with slower, deeper thrusts.
He stopped, breathing heavily. The tigress seemed to know what was next, for, carefully, still with the wolf's enormous penis in her vagina, she stood up.
He staggered a bit, straddling her as she got to her feet. Then, as one, both wolf and tiger lifted a hind leg and cocked around each other, turning until they were tied dog-fashion rump to rump. The wolf stood there, head down and panting, his huge organ embedded and locked deep in the tigress's vagina; she stood with her tail swishing gently from side to side as he pumped regularly into her receiving canal, emitting small growls when, no doubt, the wolf's great, firm knot pulled and rubbed against her clitoris.
For perhaps ten minutes the wolf and the tiger stayed like that, motioness, locked genital-to-genital in this strange but clearly fulfilling act of sex.
I'd stopped snapping shots of the two lovers in the forest and it was there I realised what had brought these two misfits together. The strongest force of all: love. For what is love but a feeling expressed, at its summit, by deep, meaningful sex, regardless of differences?
The wolf tugged several times, his penis buried in the tiger. Then, quite suddenly, he gave a pull and his penis slicked out of her vagina to dangle low and heavy under him as he trotted away. He lay down and licked his big organ back into its sheath, and as he did, the tigress lay down beside him, raised her hind leg, and licked her doubtless tingling vagina. Semen puddled at the base of her tail. Soon both the wolf and the tiger were curled asleep, ready for the next time. And I crept away, marvelling at what I'd seen.
If two totally different creatures could share such an intimate moment, dare I hope for differences between human's to be overcome? I knew what I had to do now.
I had to go back to the woman I'd left behind.