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Hungry

By: drsalt



I've thought about you and having you inside me all day. I couldn't concentrate at work. My mind kept drifting -- recalling our vacation in Hawaii where we rented the "jungle cabin". We were promised complete privacy and got it. Nobody disturbed us unless we called down to the office or room service.

I kept thinking about swimming naked with you on our little beach and making love in the sun. My pussy was wet all day, remembering how hard you stayed almost all the time. My thoughts brought me to such an intense level of arousal that I'm sure others in the office could smell me. Even that made me horny. I got a few looks from some of the men. I couldn't help but wonder whether I was making them horny and wonder about the size of their cocks.

I know you love it when I get like this. I hate it...sort of. I mean I'm just so hot and horny my pussy throbs and really itches. It's hungry and you have what it wants and needs. Your tongue and fingers have probed as far as they can go, but the itch lies deeper still.

Now you've risen over me, stretched my arms over my head and you're teasing me. My legs are spread as wide as I can get them and they're over your strong arms. I kiss you and lick my juices from your chin and cheeks. It's salty and sweet at the same time. You've taught me to love my own taste. You told me you were getting me used to the taste of pussy juice so I will eat another woman when we invite one to our bed. I think I'm ready -- at least if you can get me to this ravenous place where I am now.

You slide into me, but only a tantalizing inch or so beyond the head of your thick cock. Then you stop. No matter how I buck and thrust up at you, you are in control. I moan and whine; I can't help it. Your smirk only makes me hotter; my pussy hungrier. I feel my juices dripping down into the crease of my ass, making it as sticky as my pussy.

No! Don't pull it out! God, how I hate you! God, how I love you! Ahh...back into me again. Three times you have teased me now. I know you won't hold off much longer but I NEED it NOW! "Ahhhh...!"

All the way in! You stop there, but I'm trembling all over. I need the slamming, the plunging. "God damn you, honey! Just fuck me!" I scream at you, ignoring that anybody passing by outside might hear me.

You just chuckle and pull back, leaving that huge knob in me. I feel tears forming in the corners of my eyes. "I know what you really want, you bastard!" I whisper in your ear. "After you fuck my pussy, you want to feel your thick cock all the way up my ass. Please, honey, give this to me now and it's all yours!"

You begin then: slamming into me over and over! My muscles clamp down on you as the first quivering waves wash over me. That was only the hors d'oeuvre, though. You keep it up, probably imagining the heat of my tight ass surrounding your dick. You love to fuck my ass and I love it too. It drives you crazy to be up my ass. It drives me crazy, too.

"Ungh, ungh, ungh!" you grunt as you rut into me with your angry weapon. I hear you but I'm making my own noises, too. I'm almost there now! Here it comes! I feel the wave towering over me, threatening to carry me into that timeless white field where my orgasm absorbs all of me. "OH, GOD! AHHHH....!"

Slowly, I come down from the heights. I feel warm and fuzzy. I feel soft and rubbery all over. I open my eyes and see you are smiling at me with the most complete love. You kiss my lips softly...perfectly. The passion has passed -- for now -- and we're together in that timeless place. You are still hard and buried deep inside me.

The feeling of my juices drooling out around your still hard cock reminds me of my promise. My ass is yours, honey -- it has never belonged to anyone else. We went there for the first time together. That is what makes it so special.

A few minutes...that's all I'll need before I'll be ready to take you in there. My eyes close and I drift off. I don't feel you slip out of my gooey cunt. I am oblivious to you leaving the bed to clean up. I vaguely feel your weight as you slide back under the sheet you've pulled over us. You spoon against my back and kiss the back of my neck. "I love you," you whisper. I hear it in my dream. You know there is all the time in the world for us. You're in no hurry.

Hungry



Beth giggled and tugged her friend's arm. 

"Come on, Cathy! Just come over and see the project I've been working on. It'll take like ten minutes! In and out, I promise!" 

Cathy wasn't sure. She was supposed to be meeting her boyfriend in a half hour across town. And Beth wasn't a regular friend of hers, she'd never been over to the girl's house before. They just happened to be taking the same biochemistry class at the local college. 

But the sweet look in Beth's pleading brown eyes told Cathy the pony-tailed brunette was being honest. It wouldn't take that long. And she could probably just give Brent some excuse as to why she was late. It wouldn't take long. Besides, Beth didn't have many friends besides curvy and blue-eyed Cathy, and she was probably just lonely. 

"Sure, why not!" 

Beth smiled and motioned to the blonde girl to follow her up the sidewalk. Her house wasn't very far at all, and in the dark, no one would see Cathy going in. It was perfectly safe, and probably the charitable thing for a girl of Cathy's caliber to do. 

"Follow me down here," Beth said almost secretively, walking through the front door and right through another, down into the dark basement. 

"It's in here. I found it about a week ago, when it was smaller. A lot smaller. Now it's gotten bigger, because I've fed it so well." 

"What is it?" Cathy asked, trying to see through the shadows. 

She felt Beth brush past her, going back towards the stairs they had just come down. 

"Here, let me get the light. It doesn't like too much bright light, which is really weird because at first glance, you'd think it was some sort of plant. But since feeding it, I know it's not." 

A soft glow filled the basement, and Cathy looked to where Beth was pointing. 

In the middle of the low ceiling room was a cardboard box. In the middle of the box was a large red clay flowerpot, the kind used to plant small trees outside. And rising up from the flowerpot was a monstrous stem that ended in a tulip-shaped bulb, drooping downwards. Its surface was a dark green color, smooth like plastic, bulging as if with veins. 

"What is it?" Cathy whispered. 

At the sound of her voice, she saw Beth out of the corner of her eye, backing up the stairs. And before her, the thing began to come to life. 

Slowly, it began to unfurl. One almost petal-shaped limb slipped down from the bulb, pointing now in Cathy's direction. 

"Beth...I..." 

Lightning quick, the first limb snaked out and grabbed Cathy's leg below the hem of her skirt. Gripping her by the knee, it lifted her upside down into the air, hanging her there. She was breathless, watching as the rest of the bulb's limbs uncurled. They were not petals, after all, but tentacles. And in the soft glow of the hydroponics lamps in the ceiling's low surface, she could see that each tentacle writhed with life. 

The thing was alive, and pulsing. 

"Beth! Help!" 

But Beth had backed up the stairs, all the way, and was now softly closing the door. 

"Nooo! Don't leave me down here like this! HELP!" 

The monstrous tentacle monster shook Cathy slightly as if to silence her. And she became quiet, watching with awe as a new tentacle slid out from the center of the bulbous head of the monster. 

This one it waved infront of her face, pressing itself against her cheeks, slipping along her chin. The tentacle was covered with a slimy lubricant that Cathy could now feel and smell. And as a drop of the oozing liquid slid down her upside down face, she could taste it. It was like nectar, delicious. 

How odd, Cathy thought. 

What an odd thought to have. Nectar on a monster? 

And she giggled, drunkenly. 

Now in complete control of its new specimen, the tentacle monster lowered the quieted woman to the floor of the basement. Slowly, it pulled its lower half from the comfort of the flowerpot it had been content to call home, until it was hunched next to the new victim. 

This one was different than the last, it knew. It could tell by the smell. 

Carefully, it began to peel the outer garments off of the woman. The feminine creature giggled at the monster's touches, until it became frustrated with the noise and smacked her hard across the face. Now the woman was crying, but that was a sound the beast was becoming used to. With less care now, it tore the white cotton blouse and gray skirt from Cathy's curvaceous body, sliding various tentacles and protrusions up and down the skin. Still she wasn't naked. Frustrated again, the tentacle monster began to tear at the undergarments Cathy wore. The peach colored silk brassiere broke with a snap, and the nylons tore viciously. 

At last, it could smell what it was it most sought. 

Cathy lay dazed now, slowly sobering and becoming aware that she was naked before a monster not of this world. A scream of horror built up in her lungs, and she shrieked. 

Twitching in anger, the monster quickly thickened up a special protrusion and thrust it deeply into the woman's throat. Fluid poured into her mouth, slipping down to her stomach. 

Nectar, was all Cathy could think as she once more became quiet and silent. 

With hidden receptacles, the monster sniffed at the woman lying acquiescent before it. She was different from the first one. The servant who lived upstairs, who had put it in the comforting and familiar pot, had brought it something different last time. The woman the monster had examined then had struggled more, screamed less, and smelled all wrong. In the end, the monster had had to snap her neck to make her stop writhing and trying to escape so much. And she had that smell all wrong. 

But this one, it knew, was right. 

Carefully, it parted Cathy's thighs with two of its thinnest tentacles. It wrapped one around each of the fleshy legs, gently pulling them apart and up into the air. Then it brought out its tasting mechanism. The tendrils near its gaping mouth pulled Cathy's panties aside. For a moment, it shivered -- half in anticipation, and half in arousal at having Cathy suckle its protrusion in her tight mouth. She really required much to stay satiated and subservient. But that would not matter, if the monster could just taste her. 

Hungry now, hungrier than even before, it tore the panties and revealed Cathy's privacy. A nice, unspoiled, virgin cunt. The monster took a deep whiff of the puss, feeling itself drool. Down went the tendrils, each bright pink with excitement as it began to dip and writhe against the folds. Like a flower being plucked, the tendrils opened the vagina by pulling the inner and outer labia to each side. The woman's cunt was excited, the lips swollen with extra blood. And the monster liked it. 

With caution, it dipped its mouth lower, teeth dripping slime and drool. The tendrils left over moved inside the woman, writhing and exploring. Deep inside her went the tasters. 

Yes! She was perfect! 

Satisfied and ever so hungry, the monster withdrew its tendrils from Cathy's wet pussy, and its special tentacle from her mouth. The woman whined, then opened her eyes to see where the beast had risen up. 

Cathy wanted to scream but all her breath was gone from her chest. There was no air in her lungs as the monster laid itself over her. With massive tentacles it lifted her in the air, keeping her on her back. As she became more and more sober, the drugged nectar wearing off, Cathy looked down between her thighs with a shudder. 

The beast was lowering her onto a phallic-like tentacle. She could feel its pulsating tip entering her, spread her. It was hard as a rod, and as thick as a man's fist. And it was pushing into her. 

"Ahhhh! Please no!" 

Cathy screamed now, at last. But no one answered as she felt her tight cunt becoming enflamed. The tentacle pushed deeper inside her, and she could feel it writhing unnaturally. 

Then, when it was all the way inside, it withdrew, only to be replaced by several smaller tentacles. These seemed to have suckers on the ends, and they climbed their way up her vagina, sucking at her cervix and the entry to her womb. In pain, Cathy cried out. But the beast was unrelenting. 

The woman felt so good. It wanted to put all of its tentacles within her, some several at a time, some only once. Some it thrust repeatedly into her, violating her. Then, with magnificent strength, it turned Cathy over onto her stomach, keeping her aloft. It bent her in half, sniffing. Then, its tendrils began to taste again, seeking. Out of curiosity, it tasted along the curve of Cathy's now-slime covered buttocks, dipping into the crevice it found. 

Ah, another source of wonder! it thought. And into the woman's incredibly tight ass the monster slipped its hardest tentacle. Keeping her airborne, it began to mate with her, driving tentacles into her cunt and her ass, using its massive body to thrust and force its way inside. 

Its own seed and semen began to mix in special pouches within its own body. The time for impregnation had come. The woman was perfect and ripe now, primed by the nectar and by the severe fucking induced upon her tender previously-unused body. It lay her down on the cold basement floor. She would be denied the narcotic nectar now. And she would have to feel every inch of its sexual organ as it writhed up inside her body. Careful to aim, the monster slid its penile protrusion inside Cathy's cunt, keeping a slippery tentacle inside her anus just for kicks and its own stimulation. 

More, it thought to itself. It had to have more stimulation. 

Beth, by this time, had opened the door to the basement and had sat on the third stair down, watching with a sick and perverted pleasure as the new thing she had found did to Cathy what it had not done to her own mother. She had tricked her mother into going into the basement as soon as the thing in the pot had started moving. Beth had no idea if it was dangerous or not. And her mother was just the right kind of fat guinea pig to be used in a situation like this. The beast had torn at her mother's dowdy dress and had inspected the woman thoroughly with several pink tentacles. But after thrusting and spewing large amounts of slime over her mother's cellulite covered body, it had snapped her neck and then, swallowed her whole. 

It had taken Beth a few days before she went back down. But when she had approached the dormant monster in the pot, it had not moved much at all. It had lifted its bulbous head, as if to sniff her. But it had done nothing more. 

It had been a quirk that Cathy had been walking by tonight. She had had no one she could call to come by and see the monster, no one she could throw at it to judge its reactions. Cathy's timing had been perfect, and the results had been so interesting to watch, if not very sexually stimulating for Beth. She sat perfectly still on the third stair down, hugging her knees and feeling her own body tingle in arousal. 

The monster needed more stimulus. And lifting its head, it knew where it would get it. A tentacle flicked out, growing longer as it shot through the air, and wrapped around the slender, yielding neck of Beth, the servant from upstairs. Ruthlessly, it dragged her down to its level. The threat around her neck was plain and simple in any language. She was at its beck and call, and would only live if the monster saw fit to let her. 

Thrusting still into the nearly unconsciously Cathy, the tentacle monster began to wrap its more slender limbs around Beth. Up over her small breasts they went, climbing up to her face until at her lips. The feeling of Cathy suckling its drug-giving tentacle had been such a delight. Now it expected the same from Beth. 

The woman waited, quietly watching for instruction. The monster wanted something from her, or else it would have killed her as quickly as it killed her mother. In the corner of her eye, so close she could reach out and touch it, the monster's massive tentacles were fucking Cathy in every orifice, even her mouth. Slime and ooze dripped from the airborne girl, and made Beth quiver in the most unexpected pleasure. 

Before her face, the monster was now waving a currently unused tentacle infront. This was the one she had seen Cathy suckling for all she was worth. The thought made Beth tremble again, and the monster seemed to notice her lack of displeasure. Almost lustily, it caressed her cheek, the tip of the tentacle leaving a slime trail against her skin as it inched towards her mouth. 

How like a penis it looks, Beth thought to herself. And she closed her eyes and opened her mouth. 

The monster pushed the head of the tentacle into the gaping mouth before it, reveling in the new stimulus. This servant was good. It would keep her alive. They would form a symbiotic relationship, it and the servant. The monster put the entirety of the tentacle head into the waiting mouth. The servant suckled it, and the beast could feel the hot wetness of her cheeks and tongue as Beth made swallowing motions. 

While the servant continued the wonderful stimulation, the beast monster implanted its embryonic spawn inside Cathy's ripe womb, pushing its tentacles up into her uterus. Then with tremendous, body-wrenching fuck-thrusts, it gushed its semen over its seed, planting a heavy harvest inside the new human host. Careless now, it dropped Cathy to the floor to lay in a pile of slimy cum. But Beth it held close, never removing its tentacle from her mouth. And Beth moaned. 

Unconscious that she was doing so, she parted her thighs. The tentacles of the beast cradling her began to fiddle at her crotch. With both hands, she gripped the tentacle squirming into her mouth, moving her head up and down, her mind filled with the most sensual and erotic of thoughts and fantasies. 

The monster had done what it had intended. It had planted its seed in a most viable host. Now, it tenderly held its special servant. This human wasn't right for its seed, she had the wrong smell, just like the first more plump one had. But she had been so obedient, and the thrill of her tight, hot mouth around its protrusion, where it was thrusting into her mouth -- it was a sensation the monster relished. It wanted to examine a human anyways. With disregard, it used tentacles and invaded Beth's waistband, tearing her blue jeans to pieces as it stripped her bare. But with greater care, it parted her thighs, its mouth tendrils seeking out her crotch. No, the smell was all wrong for embryo implantation. This one was a fresh cunt though, and well worth an inspection. 

The monster thickened one of its more slender tentacles, and while Beth suckled maddeningly on the tentacle in her mouth, her virginity was burst by an insistent rod-hard phallic-shaped limb that came from the monster's very mouth. The human still tasted sweet. And the more the monster thrust into her, the more sweetness dripped into its mouth --and the harder Beth sucked on its oh so sensitive tentacle. 

Beth writhed in orgasm after orgasm. It was only when she could cum no more that the monster stopped, almost dejectedly, from licking and thrusting into her cunt. Gently though, it lay her down on the floor at the bottom of the stairs, leaving her to do as she wished for now. Cathy, however, the monster picked up and tucked into the base of the large red clay flowerpot. 

The relationship would work, it knew, and finally satiated, it let itself rest. 



Hungry



"Travis?" I call as I enter our home. I don't hear the familiar, "Daddy's home!" from our son.

"Honey?" 

It's quiet.

Curious. The car was in the driveway and I smell dinner.

Walking in, I pass the entry to our seldom used dining room.

"Hello."

I start at your voice, soft but stronger and lower than normal.

I take a deep breath at the sultry scene you have created. In the soft light of two candles, I see the table spread with succulent aromatic food; steaming shrimp and oysters, fresh salad and vegetables, and you. You are the cornerstone of my sensuous welcome. Standing beside the table, you wear a black micro-mini skirt, a very low-cut top draping loosely over your soft round mounds. Strappy high heels elongate your strong, soft legs. Long black gloves slide up your tender arms. Everything is dark, elegant and mysterious.

Your luxurious red hair glows in the candlelight. Each soft, seductive curve of your feminine form is accentuated in your stance; strong, beautiful and sumptuously sexual. Tenderly, you grasp a wine bottle in your hands, stroking the long neck suggestively. Your eyes lock on mine and you slowly lick your lips like a hungry lioness on the prowl.

"Do you want to . . . eat?" Your sentence hangs for a moment in delectable innuendo. Then you indicate the table.

"Where's Travis?"

"He's sleeping at Grandad's tonight."

I move to you and grab your waist. You yield yourself to my grasp and I pull your lips to my mouth. You accept my probing tongue. We kiss long, wet and passionately. I grind my hips into you and your pelvis meets my yearning embrace.

But when you finish your appetizer, you back out of my arms.

"Save some for dessert," you say firmly.

"Okay," I say. "Let's eat."

"Not so fast." You sound incredulous. Your burning eyes heat my curiosity, teasing me. "You're not dressed for dinner."

Your look is deliberate and hard. I am confused, troubled at your dissatisfaction. You break eye contact, looking quickly at the end of the table. They dart back, now bright and playful, sparkling with mischievous glee. I follow your glance to find on the end of the table a simple men's white lace g-string. When I look back, you have a sly, deviant smile.

A sharp spark of excitement shoots through my body. You are firm, adamant in your expectation for me to comply as I indeed want to do, anticipating an evening out of the ordinary. The pressure between my legs begins to rise. I pick up the tiny garment and turn toward the bedroom.

"Wait a minute." Your forceful command halts me. "I want to watch you take your clothes off." Your moist lips fall slightly open and you eyes betray scandalous intent. "And I expect you to make me enjoy it." You begin to delicately stroke the wine bottle again.

I put the g-string down and unbutton my shirt deliberately, dutifully. I pull out the tail and bare my chest, flexing my pectoral muscles just a little. You watch with a laughing smile. How often had you stripped for me like this? I wonder if you enjoyed it as much as me.

I unbuckle my belt and slowly unbutton my slacks. Gently I tug the zipper down. I drop the shirt from my shoulders and allow it to tumble to the ground. Thankfully, my little tease amuses you.

With my hands on my hips, I kick off my shoes and turn around. You admire the rippling muscles of my bare back. I grab the waist of my pants with my thumbs into my underwear and slowly thrust down, liberating my body from all covering.

"Nice butt."

I smile. "It's all yours."

"I know. You may dress in the bathroom."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The luscious moment of vulnerability just before I enter your presence in my negligible outfit is difficult to savor because it is so fleeting. It leaves in its wake the taste for more, building toward the rush of total exposure, standing under the scrutiny of your gaze, absolutely on your terms alone, enhancing the feeling of your ownership.

I model my merely accented nudity for you, trying to make the movement of my body enjoyable to you. I hope I have been working out enough. I hope my muscle tone is right, that the right ripples are in the right place to please you, to bring you pleasure. I stand, turn and bend over as you direct. I raise my arms, flex my back and rock my hips at your bidding. I want you to see that I have yielded my body and myself to you. As a result, I feel the building pressure of my excitement. Flesh and blood, body and soul, I am yours in complete surrender. This pleases you.

You order me to serve your meal. I obey. No part of me is safe from your salacious eye and roaming hands. Your fingers brush my shoulders; slide down my back and up my chest to amuse themselves with my flat little nipples. Maybe you imagine the tingle you feel with your nipples in my fingers.

You're hands caress my stomach and the soft flesh above my hips. I am aching for you to take pleasure from all my members. Patiently, you hold back, tasting one bite at a time, ruminating on where it will lead for you. You reach around my firm thighs, stroking up the insides of my legs, tickling when you can go no higher.

You do not cease to leer at my nakedness, groping shamelessly, laughing and teasing. I am completely objectified by you and it thrills me. My new g-string barely contains my pleasure.

You caress my hips and my soft bottom. You fondle the white package stuffed with my genitalia, straining its hems and seams from the pressure within. I am the powerless target of your indecent appetite. My stripped flesh, seized in your clutches, yearns to be devoured, consumed to feed the erotic thirsts of your most shameful and darkest imaginings.

Tonight, you own every part of me. You are the demanding mistress, harsh but playful, expecting a responsive subject. I am the enslaved servant, willingly helpless to resist your most outrageous demands. Chills seize me as I imagine what you might require. Breathlessly, I hope for your most shocking and extreme orders tonight; and soon.

Once your meal is served, you have me stand behind you and stroke your hair. You take small bites of food and long slow sips of dark wine between long pauses, savoring my gentle touch in your long tresses, choosing to receive pleasure from my strokes. My warmth and affection soothes the wild beast within you, for the time being. I let a few long soft strands brush my abdomen, stealing sips of physical stimulation for myself.

My food lays cooling on the table, though I do not protest or request that I should eat it. I am your adoring and devoted slave. I am hungrier for your gratification.

You beckon me to scratch your back. I obey with tender surrender, but my efforts aren't enough.

"Kneel beside me," you direct. Will I be punished?

I comply, slowly, eagerly.

"Reach under my top."

I bow as close to you as possible, longing for the proximity of your body. I touch your skin under your clothing and smell the natural perfume of your body. I absorb your scent. You lean into me. Your muscles loosen as you give yourself to my touch. You rock and sway as your own desire builds. You straighten as shivers of titillation burn through your spine. I know you well. The glowing warmth of arousal has begun to moisten your insides deliciously.

I am tempted to devour you. I want to overpower you and ravish you. I could throw you down and ram my growing member into your sheath and grind and pump and grind and pump until all the sexual tension you have built up in me with your pitiless teasing explodes inside you. But to take you would deny me the pleasure of being taken. The beautiful tension you are building in me will certainly have its release in your time.

You open your eyes and give me a hot, sultry look. "You can eat now." Your tone is deep and breathy.

I stand. My growing penis strains against the straps of the g-string. You notice with approval. As I reach for food, you continue to look at me with a lustful decadent hunger. The intensity of your stare is unsettling. I am you prey, and you are waiting to pounce. It is clearly your intent to toy with me and tease me without mercy before pillaging me and using me to gratify your carnal appetite.

You shift, straightening your body as your hunger turns impish. I feel your bare foot slide between my legs, probing toward my crotch. I open my legs eagerly, yielding to your playful push. You gently rub me with the ball of your foot, pressing in to me so I feel the power of your leg in my most tender parts. Your foot brushes my sensitive glans through the fine barrier of the g-string and I gasp at the sudden jolt to my center of arousal.

"You like that?" You scrutinize my response.

"Yes," I confess.

Your toes hook the top of the g-string and slowly pull down, raking my pubic hair and releasing my stiffening appendage. You tickle my testicles and then tuck the little triangle of fabric under my swelling genitalia, out of your way. You wiggle your toes in my perineum. Your tiny extremities tease my soft scrotum before you thrust your big toe to my anal passage. I curve my hips and spread my thighs to give you access to my back door. Your toe presses and rubs my tender hole. I relax my sphincter muscles to your probe and open myself for you to enter me. You study my hypnotic reception of your attentions with gleeful curiosity. But you decline to enter this time.

Your bare foot rises over my balls to stroke my exposed shaft, quickly causing an exquisite hard-on. I breathe more deeply. You slowly masturbate me with your foot, even grasping my shaft in your toes. Droplets of slick juice spill over my erection allowing your foot to slide delightfully across my hardness. You giggle as I close my eyes and focus the attention of all my nerves on happily humping your foot.

Your tease takes a cruel turn when you withdraw your foot. I look at you disappointed. But your devilish smile makes me hope for something new and unknown.

"Put my shoe back on."

I stand to comply, my hard-on bouncing before me.

"Under the table," you specify.

There I see the stirring sight of your bare shapely legs. The left leg is crossed over the shoeless right leg. I become more interested in how high up your thigh you have allowed our skirt to rise. I see almost the entire length of your legs. I admire your muscular calves and firm well-toned thighs. Remembering my purpose, I crawl to your feet and grab the loose shoe.

I wrap my hand around your calf and ask, "Can you lift your foot?"

Your body shifts as you turn your knees toward me and then remain still. I wonder why you hesitate, but I wait patiently. Slowly, carefully, you uncross your legs while I try to steal a peek into the dark cavern up your skirt. You pause again with your legs together, both feet on the floor. The dark mysteries between them remain hidden to me, though I can see far into the gap. Then as you raise the bare foot for the shoe, you allow the other leg to fall away just a little, just enough, just like it was inadvertent.

The light penetrates the darkness beneath you, illuminating the lips of your uncovered pussy. Silently, I admire your naked womanhood and remain still.

You begin to wonder if I have noticed your revealed treasures. You had planned this moment not knowing what to expect, but not expecting nothing. You part your legs further, peeling your skirt hem nearly to the waist. That should do it, you think.

But you don't feel the warmth of my nearness, nor do you hear the soft smacking of my drool-soaked lips and tongue hungering for the feast you've laid before me. You were counting on my worked up desire and love for cunnilingus to tantalize and tempt me. Where was I?

Suddenly, the whole evening seemed silly to you. Your face turns bright crimson. After all your preparations, maybe I didn't like the scenario you had built. Maybe you had botched your attempt to guess at a fantasy I would enjoy. You had opened yourself for me, exposed yourself in front of my face. Was I disgusted? Could you have failed to lure me into your snare? Had you just set yourself up for a naked humiliation?

In one motion, you slap your thighs together and look under the table. You catch my eyes snatching away from between your legs and my hand gripping my own hard-on, at work on myself under the table. Clearly I was off task.

"That's mine," you growl ominously while your playful eyes sparkle.

"Put on my shoe," you demand with a shrill sharp voice.

In one motion I scoop your foot with the black heel.

You stand, leaving me under the table to watch your legs shifting and your body tilt. I can't see you from the waist up and can't tell what you're doing, but it is easy to admire your subtle movements in your sexy shoes and tiny skirt embracing your hips and long legs. Then your arms drop to your sides. In one hand is your little black top.

You begin sauntering away, letting your hips sway, flexing your buttocks against the tight smooth skirt. Your soft hair flows over your bare shoulders and naked back, and your supple arms trail your body like wisps of mist on a foggy morning.

Abandoned on the floor where your feet once rested, I call to you, "What are you doing?"

You turn slowly, allowing me to observe the commanding sexuality of your half-clad body. The dark high heels prop your well-toned legs, molding your strong round calf muscles, perching your body into a position of erotic power. The tiny black skirt tightly hugs your hips and your bottom, highlighting your soft feminine form yet hiding your dark womanly mystery from sight, but not from imagination. The long black gloves stylishly envelope your gentle hands and lithe arms delicately, elegantly cloaking them. You stand slightly turned so that I catch a glimpse of an erect nipple at the end of your smooth round breast. Your perfect nakedness is saucily accessorized with accents whispering the dark fiery passion of an exotic night.

"Follow me. " You punctuate your demand with gripping silence.

I roll quickly from underneath the table. Before rising, I look up to you.

You have not moved. I am frozen by your withering glare. You stand over me with inscrutable desires and intentions, wielding unconditional control, holding the sweet promise of a shadowy mystery.

"I graciously allowed you a peek and you took advantage of me." Your amusement is thinly veiled. You play out your tease to lead the game closer to completion.

"You must be punished." You stand firmly, asserting your control. Then you turn swiftly, hair dancing around you as a conspiratorial smile escapes your soft lips. You sway and rock and prance around the corner and into the bedroom.

I stand slowly and readjust my now limp penis into the little g-string, my only covering to shield myself form your retribution. Walking through the house to you, I can feel my own nakedness.

I enter the room feeling exposed and vulnerable. I see your top on the bed among a scattered array of sex toys. You stand by the closet facing me, smiling devilishly. You hold a scarf extended between your gloved hands. I can barely make out your naked torso through the dark print of the sheer fabric.

"Take off your clothes."

I hesitate. Self-consciously, I look down at my body, all ready nearly naked. The strip of cloth over my genitals scarcely keeps me hidden.

"Take it off," you insist.

I draw my hands to my waist, and then look at you.

"Now."

I push the minute garment down slowly to revel in my sense of exposure. I leave the loose tangles of string around my ankles and rise unveiled, revealed to you, given to you without draping. I stand as an offering, naked and submitted to the twisting whims of your sensuous and erotic will.

You look at me with a gleeful leer.

My body cannot hide from my aroused response to your amusement.

"Don't touch," you warn sternly.

You still hold the scarf in front of yourself, but now it's pulled closer, drawn gently over your stiff nipples.

"Face the other way." 

You smirk. The brush of your eyes over my bare skin as I turn around is lusciously tantalizing. Then I feel the soft touch of your hair and breast press against my back and the coarser fabric of the skirt rub my butt. You grab my wrists, drawing them behind me. Then you securely tie them behind my back with the scarf.

Holding my bound hands, I feel your warm lips approach my ear. With a slow breathy whisper, you say, "That hard-on is mine, not yours."

You walk around me trailing your dark-clad hand roughly over my round ass and hip. You strut in front of me, high-heeled, short-skirted and topless. You tenderly cup my genitals in your gloved hand and look me in the eye. 

"No masturbating."

You step away in front of me to display your own body before me conspicuously. You look at me with delighted triumph, enjoying your dominance, exulting over your mate. Delicately you pinch the zipper of your skirt, dragging it slowly open, like a present to yourself, unwrapping your body for your gratification and creating the marvelous response of your husband's, your prisoner's, your slave's, your toy's stimulation without a touch. Your skirt drops and in your unveiled glory, I rise.

"Kneel." You exhale.

In my restrains, I stumble to comply.

You sit straight at the foot of the bed and beckon me to approach. Your legs are propped upon heels and are open as I approach. When I am within reach, you embrace my head and pull my lips to your naked chest. I lightly, leisurely kiss around one nipple, and then the other. Gradually, I increase my pace and my force, adding suction and light nibbling, soft-lipped bites and moister kisses, teasing each sumptuous tip. You extend your legs around my body and lock them, increasing the contact of my flesh with yours. I feel the soft brushing of your warm pubic bush just below my chest. You wiggle me closer into you. Soon I am devouring the raw flesh of your soft breasts. The feel of the firm supple skin in my mouth excites me. My appetite is whetted for more.

You clamp my head in the warm dark gloves and push my face down. You press me into your body, dragging my lips and tongue over the flesh of your stomach and abdomen. You grind my mouth into your pubic hair until you center my lips over your moist open vulva. Then you forcefully jam my face into your crotch. I slide my tongue deep into your open vagina and slowly withdraw, licking the whole of your inner genitalia, upward toward your prize. Tasting your warm musky saltiness awakens my own desire. I devour you voraciously. You shudder, I lick and suck, eating you fully, through and through, licking your hard clitoris wetly, pressing my face more tightly into your swaying shuddering moaning reverie.

Abruptly, you throw me away from your body.

"Stand up," you say between gasps, walking back up the bead on your hands and feet. You collapse into the pillows at the head of the bed. I stand and watch you shift you body, naked except for the gloves and the heels, beneath my gaze.

Once nestled comfortably in full view, your eyes lock onto mine. You rip off the coarse fabric on your hands and reach to the gaping pouty lips of your mouth. You suck the fingers of your left hand into your mouth. Provocatively you withdraw the saliva-soaked left hand while you suck on the right hand.

Your wet wandering hand finds a naked nipple. Your body releases an uncontrolled and delightful spasm at your touch. Then the fingers of your right hand slide from your mouth, dripping. It finds another nipple for you to manipulate. You close your eyes and massage your nipples, making yourself wetter and wetter. Then your right hand takes a nonchalant but direct path to the wet and waiting folds of dark pink flesh between your spread legs.

I squirm; deeply bothered by my inability to follow the urges of my own primed body reacting to your wanton gratification. I am trapped by your erotic spectacle and cannot indulge myself. My desire builds to even greater intensity because of your display and the restrictions you've placed on my ability to participate, In fact, I am unwilling to free myself of your gripping sex charged bonds.




Hungry



You watch me; pleased at the effect that your show is having on your audience so far.

"Having fun?" you gasp, smiling and still playing with your clitoris.

"I could be having more fun."

"Too bad. You lost that privilege. Now all you can do is watch me."

And I do.

You suddenly close your eyes and gasp with a quivering little squeal. Your hand ceases moving and your eyes clench shut. You hold your breath, biting your lower lip intensely. Then you smile and let out a happy laughing moan.

Removing your hands from your body, you look at me and adjust the pillows behind you. Then you grab a purple dildo.

"Would you like to jerk off now?"

"Yes."

You place the head of the dildo on your glistening vaginal lips.

"Too bad. You're lucky you even get to watch."

The purple shaft disappears, swallowed into your body with a slurp. You reach for two small silver bullets. You flick the switch and place them over your nipples holding them in place with one hand stretched across your chest. With your other hand you grab a slender vibrator and press it into the delicate pink flesh around the clitoris. You push a button and are quickly engulfed into the soothing hum of electric sex. Eyes closed and splayed out over the bed, you gently rock your hips and writhe, your deep breathing occasionally interrupted by a sudden jerk and a gasp. I can only look, not touch.

The display of your self-absorbed raw hedonism fills my body with screaming lust. I am happy witness to your build to erotic completion, carried away in unfettered, untamed and surging decadence.

Now my hard-on is complete. My wife's wicked carnality has left me rigid and red-hot. The cruelty of her audacious tease has left me with strands of pre-cum stretching down my thigh from my throbbing penis, desperate to be used inside my desperately horny wife, nearly sated with sex. But you continue to aggressively pursue your own insatiable desire by yourself.

The screaming pulsations of power soaring through your body are no longer adequate. Your appetite has morphed and the predator within has arisen with a ravenous appetite for raw flesh.

You rise to your hands and knees, abandoning your electric trinkets. You stalk toward me like a famished jaguar approaching my nude helpless body, tied and defenseless. Your sights are on my throbbing blood-filled organ, standing erect, glowing and unprotected. You crouch to attack with all your naked fury.

With one hand you clench my hardness with a death-tight grip and yank me toward you, hooking my arm with your other hand, spinning me onto the bed face up. Still grasping my penis, you straddle me, centering my rigid probe under your open crotch. You mount me forcefully and begin pounding me.

"Hump me," I whimper. "Hard."

Thump. Thump. Thump. Thump.

Your hot flesh slaps my skin with a wet smack on each thrust. You are blind to everything except filling yourself with my cock buried deep within you. Your relentless hammering makes us bounce on the soft bed. I arch my back desperately to meet each driving blow.

Thump. Thump. Thump.

Riding me fiercely, you begin to shriek and scream with the rousing territorial roar of animal power. I begin to twist and writhe, helplessly caught; beneath your brazen fury and in my own burning desire demanding release.

Thump. Thump. Thump.

Your shrill scream buries my moan of release. We abandon ourselves in exploding orgasm. Our flesh thrashes and jerks. The broken shell of imagination bursts forth, undamming the soft liquid juices of love, released in a raging flood of real heartfelt passion. Your shameless teasing dominance melts into an unencumbered withering flood of nuclear sensation. My fettered subservient submission is snatched back to take my pleasure in my ejaculation, bursting to fill you.

Our limp bodies collapse together. You loose my bond and we roll onto our sides, greedily locking our mouths together, consuming each other's wetness. Breathlessly, we inhale each other. Our pounding hearts begin to slow while we embrace, bosom to bosom, thigh to thigh. I grow limp, inside you still. We drift off into a blissful rest.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Coming to, we begin to sense each other's proximity again. Our lips tenderly meet. Our hands gently brush each other on the shoulders, ribs, hips buttocks, and back. We hold each other to ourselves, the familiar scent of our lovemaking lulling us out of our relaxed stupor. We drink each other back into seduction.

Dampness between your legs and stiffness between mine again begin growing within the soft warmth of your flesh. Lovingly, we begin to rock, rock each other into a peaceful joy, rising together, bound together, equally giving, and equally taking. Our desire builds, holding each other more firmly, expectantly. We cling to each other, soon on the brink of pure bliss.

With wide hopeful eyes, you say, "Do you want to go like this?"

We give one another several more blissful thrusts.

"Yes."

We quicken our lovemaking again, racing together through the dark curtain of unexplainable desire into the warm pools of pleasure, filled with our love.



Hungry



Every heart beat in the city thrummed in my ears like a siren's song, begging me to seek them out, to slake my painful thirst. It was a mesmerizing harmony that sent my thoughts reeling. Oh, the havoc I could cause, if let loose on the city, if my control wasn't as strong as a saint, or better yet, an Elder.

Although I knew better, I could have sworn my veins, my flesh, were already turning to dust with each passing moment. The thirst, the hunger, would not get to me. I wouldn't let it.

"Please . . . " A small, desperate voice whimpered to me from across the room. "Please . . . take what you need. Take it all. Your thirst consumes me, even as it does you."

My lip curled, revealing one small, yet razor sharp canine fang. My hunger, my slipping control, was stopped dead in its tracks. That pitiful creature was every bit a blood slave as I was, even if he was human. His total submission was staggering. I would rather rot than take something that was nothing more than an over used, mindless blood bank. Cold. I could be one drop of blood away from living or dying and I would turn my head away from such an offer without a second thought.

"You starve yourself, and a feast sits before you, Raven." Daemons' voice, dark and haunting, was a little surprised and confused. "You have nothing to prove here. Your thirst will win out in the end. Why do you do this to yourself?"

I turned my head and saw Daemon standing in the darkened doorway to my "cell." He was all that was cool and casual and everything dangerous. I couldn't deny the sexual attraction, and I wouldn't even try.

"I have everything to prove, Daemon," I said, my voice barely above a whisper.

Oh, yes. I had everything to prove. By vampire standards, I was a child. The Council was up in arms over the fact that I had put my own Sire in his place, so to speak. But, Gerard had made me strong, trained me with every ounce of knowledge he possessed. Only ten years into my new life and I had put my own Sire, an Elder himself, down to the ground with the heady knowledge that I had been stronger than him. It was a drug not many could say they have taken.

"Gerard willingly submit to me," I said before realizing I spoke out loud. "He made me exactly the way he wanted me. He would have torn apart anyone else from his clan if they had dared the same as I. But, he was tired. He was tired of mindless obedience, lack of strength, and powers taken for granted, so he wanted to make sure the one who stood over him was worthy of the task."

"He wanted to submit?" Daemon sounded as if he could never believe that of an Elder vampire. "He could have easily come to one of us. It's not his place, or his right, to make one such as you, one who would defy centuries of rules and take down her own Sire. Those who think above themselves end up out of control, killing without care of the rules, without the proper fear and respect of their Elders."

I turned my head away from him and tucked my chin into my knees. I wrapped my arms around my bent legs and sighed deeply.

"Maybe the Council would be wise enough to look into Gerard's teaching methods with open minds," I said, "I have never once taken a human life. Never. Not even when I was freshly made and unsure of my strength and hunger. I know of all the rules, agree with them totally, and have never broken a single one . . . "

"Except the one about never killing your own Sire."

A rough, purr-like, growl escaped my throat before I could stop it. Daemon made it sound as if Gerard had bared his neck to me, begging me to take his last drop. His utter contempt from my actions, and for Gerard's motives, burned my blood. Gerard didn't go easily. He made me fight, tooth and nail, with every ounce of strength and skill I had, to take him down. Gerard was no meek fool. He wanted a permanent death, but didn't want to give it up to someone who couldn't take it from him honestly.

"You know nothing, Daemon," I said, staying curled into myself. "I didn't want to kill him. He was my Sire, my maker. He made me who I am. I am filled with nothing but honor, respect and love for him. Gerard gave me a gift beyond anything anyone could give me . . . ever."

"Yet you killed him anyway!" Daemons' vicious snarl sent shivers down my spine. As strong as Gerard was, Daemon was infinitely stronger. To serve such as him . . . 

"He wanted death, and I . . . I wanted to please him."

Daemon removed the well-used bag of blood, but he didn't stop his attempts at breaking me. He kept me locked in that room for weeks, trying one human after another to lure me from my control. I didn't want to be strong, but it was against my nature to give in without a fight. If Daemon wanted me to bend to his will, he had a lot more to prove than Gerard ever did.

Gerard was my Sire. It was written in my very blood to serve him, to please him. I so wanted to please Daemon, as well, but I knew that to give in to him would be a mistake. He would hate me like no other if I allowed him to break me, to control me, without a fight or a challenge.

But, my control was fast slipping away. My hunger gnawed at me from every cell in my body, painful and unending. With every warm, brightly alive, human that was placed in front of me, my desire to rip into their throats and gorge myself until I was drunk with their blood, was quickly overwhelming my sanity. I knew, when the time came for me to give up, there wouldn't be anything life of my willing victim but a dried out husk, a dead shell.

I dreamed of the hunt, the chase and the capture. I could feel the hum of my soul as it took away my meal's fear, replacing it with a hot pleasure, unlike anything they would ever know. Like placing two mirrors against each other, I could reflect my pleasure, and theirs, until it became a writhing mass of utter, mind blowing, bliss.

"No more fighting, Raven." Daemons' gentle, sorrowful growl wrapped around me like a hot blanket. "Your thirst is so great, its effecting all of my clan. We can feel your soundless cries for sustenance ravaging our very souls."

I felt a cool tear slip down my cheek. I glance to Daemon and saw that he wasn't alone. Just behind him was another, yet this human was different. He was willing, yet untried, untasted. His heart beat pounded loudly in my ears. My body fairly screamed with the wanting of him and his life's blood. My tears streamed down my face.

"I'll kill him, Daemon." My voice quivered from my weakness, gilded with an edge of fear. "I'll kill him. I'll utterly destroy that poor soul so badly there won't be anything left."

I was broken. My fight was over. I stood, slowly, and a small wave of dizziness ran through me. My eyes were on that throbbing body and all I could think of was that perfect rush of hot, spurting blood flooding my mouth as my fangs' tore at his throat. Oh, I was going to kill him all right. And, I'd enjoy every moment of it.

All of my control was gone and the human's skin had turned a deathly white from the knowledge I was poring into him. He knew exactly what I was going to do to him, how I would do it, and how he would be when I was done . . . dead.

My steps were slow and calculating, building the fear that was getting me drunk. Not much of a hunt, but at least he wasn't used up.

"I've gone to far." Daemons' words barely reached my ears, but reach them they did.

I stopped in my tracks, only steps away from Daemon and the human.

"There is still hope, Daemon," I said, my voice struggling. "Take him, and then let me feed from you. I don't want to kill him. Please, Daemon . . . help me."

Daemons' ice blue eyes flashed darkly. He had gotten what he wanted without totally destroying me in the process. He was the one in control.

"You will not kill him, Raven," He said, "You will feed from him, ease your thirst, but you will leave him alive."

I took a step back. Fear rushed through me. I couldn't do it, not if it meant the human's death.

"You will do it, damn it!"

Suddenly, Daemon grabbed the human and threw him at me. I was gone. I was on him in a flash, fangs bared and sinking into his neck with a relish I wasn't sure was possible. But, in my head and heart, I knew he was not a feast to completely devour. Daemons' words, his will, held me strong. With every powerful pull of my mouth, with every swallow, I listened to the human and gave him the pleasure I always gave to those I fed from.

I drew back, my hunger sated but not satisfied. The human was unconscious but alive, slumped on the floor, no fear on his face.

From my knees, I looked up at Daemon with awe on my face. He held out a strong hand to me and I took it, stepping over the human as Daemon drew me into his embrace.

He looked down at me. Also, filled with awe. He cupped my cheek gently and touched my blood smeared lower lip with his thumb.

"There was never a blood slave before who is like you, Raven," he said softly, reverently. "You are the reason that name was created. You will please me, and in turn, you will be pleased."

"To serve you is my only pleasure, Daemon."



Hungry



Raoul kept his head down as he carried his tray through the restaurant. He was hungry - just not for food. He dropped into a booth, trying to concentrate on his meal, trying to ignore the ache lower in his groin. Days from home, away from the missus, and just shy of his fortieth, he told himself he was just looking for some fun. But he knew better. Since his tastes for that fun tended towards the tender (drunk) young coeds of his home town and he was miles from any college he knew of, he was likely to stay hungry. Then, as if fate knew his weakness, he heard giggling and the ache intensified.

Three of them, a blond and two brunettes, slid into the table one down from his booth. They laughed and talked and created a stir he had no hope of ignoring. He tried to keep his mind on his food, but his eyes were on the blond. She was slender and bubbly, her hair short and lightly curled, her little nose with a slight upturn, her bright eyes almost purple. Her t-shirt clung to palm-sized breasts and a flat stomach, her jeans molding to long legs. Raoul's mouth watered, his body hardening with anticipation -- the hunger was almost overpowering. He could see bending her over the table, thrusting his cock... When their heads went together, whispering, he managed to take a bite of his sandwich and turn his head towards the window.

"Hey, mister," the voice was light and laughing and made his stomach drop even as his groin clenched.

"What?" He managed to growl the response as he looked over at the blond, who had slid into the other side of his booth. The other two girls giggled their way by the booth as the blond waved.

"Jen said you were looking at me," she smiled, leaning closer to him. He managed to grunt and filled his mouth with fries before he said something stupid. But his eyes dropped where her breasts pressed her arms and she smiled again.

"So what," Raoul finally answered softly. He and the blond reached for the soda at the same time and when his fingers brushed hers, he jerked back. She took the soda with a wink and sucked slowly on the straw. Raoul's cock swelled in his jeans as he watched her roll the plastic straw between her lips.

"So, I think you're interested," she whispered, then began to slide her lips up and down the straw, her eyes on his. His mouth went dry as he imagined those lips sliding up and down...

"So what," he repeated, his voice rough. He thought about his contract and deadlines, about his overhead and how he was going to sleep in the cab, about what they called men who had sex with young girls. He thought about how she would taste, how it would feel to have his fingers in her hot pussy, how tight she'd be when he thrust deep...

"You got a rig?" she murmured, glancing around, "or a room?"

"Rig," he managed, gathering the remains of his meal. He could still make a getaway... She wouldn't want to do it in his cab. He didn't even have a sleeper compartment. 

"Knock once, pause, then twice," she whispered, her voice low, as she added the soda to his tray, "Ladies room's around the back." Then she sauntered away.

Damn. Damn. He was such a weak ass. He dumped his meal in the trash as he silently cursed himself. But he walked out the door and around the back of the building, away from his rig. 

There was a stick woman on the door. Looking around, feeling like an obvious dog, Raoul knocked once, then twice. The door opened and he stepped in, closing the surprisingly heavy door behind himself and flicking the lock. The blond leaned against the sink of the small bathroom, naked from the waist up, her jeans undone. She smiled at him, her hand sliding down her belly and into her pink panties.

"I couldn't wait to get started," she murmured, her eyes hot as her hand shifted and she shivered.

"Take them off," Raoul demanded, his voice hoarse. She smiled again, hooking her fingers into her waist and shoving both her jeans and panties down. She stepped free, naked, and slid up onto the sink, spreading her legs and giving him a perfect look at her shaved pussy.

"Like this view better?" she purred, her fingers stroking her swollen folds, her tongue wetting her bottom lip. "I think you do," she purred, sliding her fingertip in and out of her hole. Her other hand idly stroked her bare breast. She lifted the hand from her sex and held it out to him. "Want to taste?"

Raoul took her wrist, sliding her fingertips into his mouth. He suckled her fingers, tasting the sweetness of her arousal as he stepped closer. Popping her fingers from his mouth, Raoul knelt between her legs, sliding his hands up the inside of her knees and thighs. She watched him with hot eyes as he leaned in and licked her pink flesh.

Sweet. Hot. Raoul spread her thighs further with his hands and began lapping at her sex, his rough tongue starting at her hole and circling her clit, again and again. She whimpered, her hands sliding into his hair, pressing him closer. "Yes..." she whispered, sliding her leg over his shoulder and shifting her hip to tilt towards him. He grunted in appreciation as he closed his mouth over her sex and began sucking. "Oh, God..." she moaned as the sound of his sucking and slurping filled the small room. Raoul teased her with his tongue, swirling it around and in and out of her, stroking, making her squirm.

"Please...I need your cock..." she moaned, her hips rocking against his mouth.

Lifting his mouth, he replaced the teasing by rubbing his thumb over her quivering hole. "Not yet, beauty," he growled, sucking and nipping at the tender skin of her inner thigh. She moaned and squirmed again. Raoul shifted his hand, rubbing two fingertips against her hole, the sliding them deep, burying them to the knuckle. The girl arched, moaning and shivering, her tight pussy rippling around his fingers.

"Hell, yes, baby," he groaned, slowly pumping his fingers in and out of her. She was so soft, hot, slick, his cock strained against his pants eagerly. He suckled the skin low on her belly, leaving love bites, as he watched her face. Her eyes were closed, her mouth open, panting, as she writhed on the sink, enjoying his finger-fucking. He used his free hand to tug open his jeans, to shove them down his hips.

"Tell me, baby," he murmured, curving his fingers as he thrust, seeking her spot, "How old are you, baby?" She whimpered and squirmed until he found it, then she jerked and gasped, her eyes flying open. God, please don't let her be underage, he pled silently.

"Nine...nineteen...Oh, my God!" She gasped again as he focused his attention on her g-spot, rubbing hard. Her body clenched as she bucked and came, sobbing as her cum spilled through his fingers.

Perfect. Nineteen. Hot. Tight. His.

Raoul surged to his feet as she shuddered, draping her ankles over his shoulders as he stood between her legs. With one hand he grasped his thick erection and guided his tip to her hole. He pressed against her, feeling her cunt quiver against his fat head and bit back a groan. Her hands gripped the sink as he pushed into her, his thickness stretching her. She was incredibly tight and he couldn't prevent the groan as he thrust against her, short bursts of movement as he penetrated deeper and deeper.

"Open for Papa Bear," he groaned, tilting his hips a little to work his whole length into her. She was panting, whimpering, as he stuffed her full of his cock. The sight of his thick red rod half-inside her made him groan. He placed both hands on the wall and thrust once more, driving home.

"Ohhhh," she moaned, one hand clutching his arm as his groin pressed her ass, his heavy balls rubbing her bare cheeks, his fat penis buried in her body.

"Damn, baby, you got what Papa Bear needs," he growled, pulling back, then thrusting up and in, smoothly burying himself deep inside her wet pussy. She gasped and he did it again, groaning at the sensations of her inner muscles working his shaft. Then he began to move, fucking her with long, slow thrusts, savoring the tight embrace of her pussy. She rocked against him, her eyes open now, locked on his.

"You feel so good, Papa Bear," she whispered. His cock stretched her wide, her body straining around his thickness, the hard hot length of him throbbing inside her like a living thing. She shuddered with pleasure.

"You feel good, too, baby," he groaned, lowering his mouth to hers. They kissed hungrily, breathlessly, as he plunged his cock deep inside her. He set a brutal rhythm, fucking her hungrily. He groaned again, burying his face in her neck as he began to thrust harder and faster. Her moans vibrated as he drove into her, his cock moving like a piston, bang, bang, bang, his hips slapping her ass. She clutched his arms as her body tightened.

"Please...." she sobbed, arching, pressing her hips to him. Raoul slid a hand down her thigh, cupping her ass and tilting her hips as he shifted, thrust, and found her g-spot again. She cried out breathlessly, bucking, as she came hard around him, her inner muscles working the entire length of his penis. He groaned, pushing himself harder against her, his cock swelling, pulsing - he ejaculated with a low groan ripped right from his gut. Thick hot semen pumped into her core, making her moan and shudder. 

"Oh, Papa Bear," she moaned, "It's so hot..."

"Yes, baby," he groaned, thrusting against her, spurting, ejaculating inside her soft body. Gasping a little, he finally pulled free and stepped back. Her hole quivered, oozing white cum and he groaned, his dick hardening again. He pulled her from the sink and turned her, bending her forward as he felt between her legs. She moaned as his fingers rubbed her pussy, then he was sliding his dick back inside her, thrusting, cum dripping down her thighs as it squirted from her hole with each thrust. He cupped her breasts as he increased his fucking, hammering her pussy.

"Oh, baby, oh, baby," he groaned, panting as he rammed his dick in and out.

"Papppa Bearrrr!" she cried, climaxing again, even as he did, his hot cum mixing with hers, spraying over their thighs.

He pulled out with a slurp and stood behind her a moment, panting, his hands on his thighs, his head and dick hanging low. He always felt like shit afterwards, but damn, she'd been eager, ripe and perfect. He felt her movement an instant before she slid her hand over his cock and guided him to her mouth. She licked him clean, teasing him with her cat's tongue, her hand gently squeezing rhythmically. He groaned, unable to stop the throbbing, swelling. She slid her mouth down around him, sucking hard as her free hand grabbed his balls. With a hoarse groan, he emptied into her throat.

----------------------------------------------------------

Raoul turned the memory of her over in his mind as he drove. She'd been young, yet so sexually aggressive. It was women like that who kept him hooked. He glanced at the clock, the sign post for a rest stop and turned on his turn signal. Time for a quick stop...

Lissy slumped in the back of the SUV, bored. Her family was in the rest area building, stocking up on pamphlets and snacks. She wished she was back home. Her friends didn't have to spend their spring break with family. No, they got to party in Florida or Mexico, she whined to herself, like normal college freshmen. Then she saw him, sliding out of a rig. God, he was hot! She could see the bulge of his jeans, even when he probably wasn't hard. His long legs had a swagger that made her wet. She slipped out of the car, watching him cross to the far side of the building. 

"Gotta go!" she called out as she hurried past her family. She knew they'd pile in the car and wait for her. Her mom would roll her eyes, but Dad and Jake would discuss the next place to stop. And, meantime, Lissy would get some sex.

She saw him enter the men's room when she opened the outer door. Darn, she winced, hoping to catch him quicker. Waiting around, she tried not to pace.

Raoul left the men's room, tugging out his wallet to get snack money. He was in the mood for something sweet...Then he saw her. He'd swear she was looking for him as the blond sauntered his way. He started to sweat, seeing her youthful face, her tight tee over firm tits, those sweet young hips. He aimed for the soda machine.

"Hey, do you have change for a five?" she asked as he slid a dollar into the soda machine. He glanced at her and shook his head. He was even cuter in person, with his tousled black curls and deep blue eyes. Even the rough stubble of beard made her itch. He might be as old as her dad, but he looked like her roommate's boyfriend. She smiled and stepped closer.

He could smell her now, hot young girl, and his cock twitched.

"Are you sure?" she asked, leaning against the snack machine as he studied his choices. She made sure to slide her arm under her breasts, plumping them. She'd seen his look, knew he was interested, and she could see the bulge growing. Her body ached with lust. God, he had to be huge, she though, her eyes locked on that bulge, her mouth watering.

"Can I borrow a dollar, then?" she wheedled, as he bought a candy bar. He glanced around, seeing no one, and swallowed hard.

"Maybe I can trade you for one," she murmured, sliding a hand up his arm.

"Can't, won't," he managed, his voice a rough growl. She shivered and he was lost.

"Ohhhh," she murmured, "Now say my name. I'm Lissy." She glanced around the empty room and saw a group outside, heading towards the building.

Unable to control the need, he slipped an arm through hers, "Come on, Lissy," he growled. Her light laugh masked a deep tremor of lust as he guided her out the back and behind a large group of bushes.

He dropped his snacks, his long hard body pressing hers against the side of the brick building as he kissed her deeply, hungrily. They were masked from everyone by two rows of thick evergreen, but could hear the voices pass by, adding an element of danger to the sex. 

Eagerly, she wrapped her arms around his neck and he tugged open her jeans. Kissing still, his hand cupped her, teased her wet slit, a finger pushing deep into her pussy. She arched to him, quivering, as he thrust his hand against her, his finger writhing within her. She came fast, gushing, her body melting limp against his, her moan lost in his mouth as he feasted on her lips.

Lissy's head fell back on another breathless moan as his mouth moved over her throat, his finger still slipping and sliding inside her. When she shuddered a second time, he slid his hand free and held her until she could stand. "Strip," he growled, low and feral.

She smiled at him, tugging her tee over her head, bare breasts popping free. Her nipples were tight, hard and already sensitive and the quick brush of his rough thumbs made her gasp. She wriggled out of her jeans and panties, then gasped in surprise as he yanked her naked body to his, fusing his mouth to hers.

The kiss was hungry and deep, as his hands stroked every inch of her naked body. She was so hot, trembling with the needs inside her. "Please," she managed, pulling away a little, tugging on his shirt.

He pushed her to the ground, to her hands and knees, so suddenly she gave a small cry. Then he was behind her, stroking his hands over her back, cupping her breasts from behind to pull her body up to his. She shuddered when she felt the hot velvet of his penis against the crack of her ass. He was naked, hard and throbbing for her, mere inches from her wet core where she was throbbing for him.

His thumbs stroked her nipples, his lips teasing her earlobe, as he shifted his hips and his long length slid between her thighs. His thick cock lay along her slit, between her legs, and she shuddered with anticipation. "Ohhhh," she whimpered, "I can't wait any longer..."

"You want it, Lissy?" he murmured in her ear, his breath hot, "All of it?" He rocked his hips and his rock-hard shaft caressed her slick pussy lips.

She shuddered, "Oh, God, yes..."

"All of it," he repeated, shifting back until his head found her. He pressed against her, just his tip stretching her, teasing her.

"Please..." She whimpered, "I don't even know what to call you..." It was so wicked. Hot bodies, hot sex, a road-side encounter. And her family was just yards away.

"Papa Bear. Call me Papa Bear," he chuckled, one hand pressing her belly as he slowly penetrated her dripping pussy. She whimpered, squirming, as his fat head burrowed inside her.

"Papa..." she moaned, shivering, as more cock penetrated her, streched her. Raoul let her fall forward to her hands and knees as he gripped her hips and mounted her like a stallion.

"Call me Papa Bear, Lissy," he growled in her ear as his hands tightened on her hips and he drove to her core.

She gave a breathless cry as he filled her, then he was filling her again and again, fucking her eagerly. She bucked and shuddered under him, wet mare in heat to his randy stallion, his cock plunging into her with hard, even strokes. Her inner muscles clutched at him, stretching to take his full erection, straining to hold him even as he pulled away and thrust back in.

Lissy couldn't believe the sensations. She'd imagined he would be a good lover - a bit rough but hard and manly. She couldn't believe how good it felt. The guys back home weren't so big or weren't so eager, or something. She spread her legs and tipped her ass to take more, to enjoy more of his lusty sex.

He was close and slid a hand over her hip and between her thighs, teasing her clit to make sure she was just as close. Lissy moaned breathlessly, her body moving in rhythm with his, as they mated. His cock swelled with the friction, his balls tightening with seed. He was greedy for more, hungry for the spasms of her orgasm to stroke his aching cock. Thrust, thrust, thrust...Oh, yes...

"Papa Bear!" Lissy gasped as her body clenched in pleasure. She felt him plunge deep, his cock swelling so tight against her she thought he might rip her open, his hips pumping against her ass as he pulsed...."OH!" her squeal was a sound of pleasure as he came inside her, a hot flowing eruption.

"Yes...." His groan in her ear as he wrapped his arms around her naked body, rocking his hips to her ass to ejaculate again and again into her core.

"I want to taste you, Papa Bear..." she whined and he released her, slipping his cock free with a slurp and groan. She turned on her knees, wrapping one dirty hand around his base and sliding his dripping head into her mouth. 

"MMMMmmmmm...." she shivered with the taste of hot, wet sex...

Lissy slipped into the family car with a soft apology for taking so long. Her mom rolled her eyes. Dad and Jake were arguing over the underground mine or the river panning expedition. She squirmed a little in her seat and popped the top of her soda, washing away the hot salty taste of a real man.

----------------------------------

Raoul refused to feel bad. Maybe life wasn't so bad. Evidently it was his lot in life to provide phenomenal sex to hot young women. As long as Miranda didn't catch him (and she was a thousand miles away), he'd just enjoy every moment of it. Next stop would be Tuscaloosa and his favorite diner. There was a hot little waitress there with a mouth that could make a man weep.



Hungry Cockwhore



Author's Note: A special thanks goes to mysterydrink for helping with inspiration and destination, as well as guinne for providing feedback and editing.

*****

She ran her hands along the hard panes of his chest, her fingers dancing over the surface, her tongue following their trail. She couldn't help but nibble as she made her way down, closing her teeth playfully over the flesh. She heard his quick intake of breath and smiled as she continued her way down, finally kneeling before him. She traced her fingers over the skin above his boxers before taking a deep breath and pulling them down as he stepped out. His cock never failed to make her mouth water. Just the sight of it made her flush, a sudden reminder of all the things he could make her feel with its touch. She reached for him, gripping his cock, her tiny hand not quite able to wrap around it, her other hand reaching back to cup his balls, fondling them gently. She leaned in and flicked her tongue slowly over the tip, smiling at the precum that had gathered there, the taste reminding her of how much she loved taking him in.

She looked up at him, wide eyed, lips slightly parted. She watched him smirk, one corner of his lip lifting slightly, his green eyes dancing with delightful mischief. He leaned down, his feather light touch moving slowly up her back bone, taking her by surprise when it suddenly became firm, entwining his fingers in her hair and forcing her head back. "I like you in this position, Selena. I like it very much. Seeing your hands and your tongue on my cock, your eyes so wide staring up at me as I take you in...you should be on your knees more often."

She grinned up at him, moving to his balls, suckling them each gently before flicking her tongue along the underside of it, settling at the tip and sucking gently. Selena knew he wouldn't give her long before taking control of the situation and she loved having this time to just explore him and enjoy the sensations. She slowly took a bit more of his cock into her mouth, bobbing her head a bit to encourage it a bit deeper. She watched his eyes flutter shut, his jawline tensing as his hand tightened in her hair, beginning to meet her gently with his thrusts. helping her. She felt such a sense of accomplishment as she heard him groan in pleasure...she loved making him feel this way. She knew she didn't have much time before he took over completely. She focused on softening her mouth, using her tongue to create as much sensation as possible without getting in the way of his thrusts. She worked to relax, to open, waiting so eagerly.

"Fuck...you're such a good little cocksucker, aren't you?" he growled as he reached down to caress her cheek, his other hand tightening in her hair. "Let's see just how much you can handle, shall we?" Without further ceremony, his cock about halfway between her lips, he thrust deep. She felt his cock hit the back of her throat and she started to gag, her eyes instantly beginning to tear. She ignored it, placing her hands on the back of his ass, using the additional leverage to encourage him to push harder, pleading him with her eyes to give it all to her.

A curl of satisfaction crossed his lips as he nodded and tightened his grip once more, shoving his cock deep into her throat, feeling it spasm and convulse around his cock. Without giving her time to recover, he began fucking her face, thick ropes of saliva running down her chin and spilling onto her large breasts, her tears spilling from her eyes and mixing with her mascara to paint dark patterns along her cheeks. She could hear him moaning and panting with exertion, but her own grunts and gurgles were more prevalent in her ears. She felt a surge of wetness in her pussy, her panties quickly soaking up the fluid. She could focus on nothing but softening her mouth, accepting all he was offering her, keeping her teeth out of the way. Her body hummed with desire as his brutal fucking of her face continued.

"You like this, don't you Selena? You're a little cock hungry slut. You love being a tight wet little hole for me, don't you?" His voice was a growl with a hint of a man who has clearly conquered. She opened and closed her hands, trying desperately not to push him away, choosing his cock over comfort, over breath. She tried desperately to tell him that yes, she loved it. She nodded over his cock and tried to answer, but all that came out was muffled wet garble. His hands travelled to her throat, massaging it gently, enjoying the feeling of his cock sliding before reaching down and cupping her breasts, flicking his thumbs over the nipples. She cried out in ecstasy, not fully realizing her arousal could increase so much with such a simple added touch. 

He began squeezing, massaging, and finally slapping her tits repeatedly, pinching and pulling . at her nipples. She felt herself widen her legs, her pussy desperate for touch. He continued pounding her face, finally burying the entire length of his cock down her throat, crying out in triumph as his balls settled on her chin, her nose pressed against him, forehead against his abs. Her airway was blocked completely and she felt herself gagging, her body begging for air, but she was desperate to hold here, to keep his cock buried deep. She felt her eyes beginning to roll back, her lungs now aching with desperation for oxygen. He took pity on her and pulled his cock free, smiling down at her as he watched her gulp in large breaths. Her eyes never left his cock and she leaned toward it even as she continued to take in oxygen. She leaned in and nuzzled it, aching to be close even though she wasn't yet ready to give up the air she was breathing.

He grinned down at her and lightly slapped his cock against her cheeks several times, the wet sound of the impact making her once again desperate. "Thank you for your cock...thank you...I fucking love this cock" she moaned as she continued to rub her face on his cock, worshipping it happily. 

"And you're such a good little whore, how well you love my cock" he paused and delivered a final, firm slap across her cheek "...but don't you think that your pretty little mouth could be doing something more productive than speaking?" 

She nodded eagerly up at him, taking one final breath before opening her mouth to accept his cock inside, working it as deeply as she could, bobbing up and down, loud wet gurgles the evidence of her efforts to force it deep.

He groaned, his cock throbbing in her throat as she worked up and down its length, letting her mouth fuck it at will, simply thrusting his hips rhythmically to give her more momentum. His greedy hands moved down to her tits, squeezing them hard as he traced his thumbs over the hardened pink nipples. "Fuck..." he groaned, his tone making it evident that his control was fading fast. 

The sound encouraged her and she redoubled her efforts, softening her mouth, staying out of the way of his thrusting cock, using the momentum to work him deeper with each thrust. She pressed him deeper, finally feeling his balls against her chin once again, her throat again convulsing, her body already making its need for oxygen apparent. Her body was on fire from the torturous teasing of her nipples. She finally pulled off, gasping several deep breaths before pushing right back onto his cock and shoving it deep on the first thrust, holding, determined.

She looked up to him-he was grinning despite the moans, pleasure contorting his face, the pride at how well she swallowed his cock was evident. His hands returned to her hair and he started to fuck her deep, firm, and insistent. Each thrust started with his cock between her soft pink lips and ends with her nose slammed against his hard stomach. "Oh fuck...fuck" he moaned, pulling out. She gasped for air as he removed his cock, but felt empty and desperate without it. Taking his cock in his hand and aiming it at her mouth, he stroked feverishly, spit spraying from his cock all over her face. She leaned forward and flicked her tongue over the head, encouraging the cum, begging him, staring up with wide eyes smudged dark with makeup and tears. "Please...please give it to me" she begged "I need your cum."

His head fell back, every muscle tensing in turn as waves of pleasure surged through his body. He edged on the precipice of orgasm for what seemed an eternity. She gently flicked her tongue over his head, suckled it, continued begging in desperation. His eyes finally returned to hers and he exploded, large streams of hot cum shooting from his cock. She was almost fast enough to react and take it in her mouth, but much ended up on her lips and cheeks, one thick string falling from her chin to her breasts. She kept her eyes wide, struggling to swallow all that he offered, staring up at him and smiling, breathing heavily, thanking him.

He smiled widely, gasping in post orgasmic exhaustion. He gave her a moment of tenderness, reaching and caressing her cheek, his eyes softening as he stroked her. "You're such a perfect little cock whore. Built to service my cock." She smiled up at him and turned her head into his touch, closing her eyes as she accepted his praise. "Now, it's your turn to find out just how well my cock can pleasure you." He tightened his grip on her neck as he encouraged her to his feet. She rose, unsteady, still in a state of bliss and desperation. His hands slid around her hips and he lifted her off the ground, flinging her over his shoulder and carrying her to the bed to prove his words to her.



Hungry Cub



The group of childhood girlfriends chatted over drinks at the bayside bar. They reminisced on their vodka-OJ days to their fancy cocktail nights in their 20's to their current wine dates in their mid-30's. By the time the 5 girls finished their first bottle, they quickly moved to relationship gossip.

Michelle, who recently left her husband of 6 years and was eager to spice up her previously dull sex life, was the first to open the conversation.

"I feel like I need something...more fulfilling sexually." She paused, hiding her embarrassment while the other girls giggled like school girls. But she needed to know how and she knew who to ask.

"Valerie, how do you keep pretty boy toy around? And is it as fun as he looks?"

Valerie looked down at her drink with a confident smirk. She wetted her index finger with her wine before bringing it to her mouth and carefully licked it seductively. She looked back up before entering the conversation.

"You see girls, boys are the same at all ages. They all need nourishment."

Michelle was puzzled. "Nourishment?"

"Of course. When they're babies we have to feed them milk. But when they get to the right age, you feed them the real honey." She wetted her finger and sucked on it slowly before starting again. "And once they get addicted to it, they'll keep coming back for nourishment."

The girls were in awe as they knew her younger boyfriend was tasting her often and probably in multiple ways. 

"But don't stress Michelle, I'll let you girls feed him soon. He's a hungry little cub." She glanced down at her watched before reaching for her purse and pulling out her credit card. "Speaking of which, it's time he gets fed."

Meanwhile, he was nervously hopping into the shower after his chest and shoulder workout. He grabbed his razor and carefully removed the little stubble surrounding the base of his penis. Even without touching it, it was almost fully erect in the shower.

"Don't jack off. Just rub it a little." He whispered those words imagining it was Valerie telling him what to do. God he needed to have his head between her legs. He rubbed his index finger over the tip of his penis until it was well coated with pre-cum. He brought it to his mouth and sucked on it eagerly.

After his shower, he quickly dried off and grabbed his new small black boxer-briefs that hugged his ass tightly. A few months ago Valerie commented on how she likes it when he wears tighter underwear. He started wearing his smaller boxers and noticed how she would grip his ass more in bed. He fantasized about her digging her nails into his bottom with this new pair.

He got dressed and quickly made his way to her place. He was sweating. It was a Thursday night. Even though he had seen her the past 5 nights, which consisted of a couple of dates with "quickies" in the back of her tinted SUV, this was "cum" night. He gets to orgasm any way he likes it as long as he can complete a certain task. Particularly since he voluntarily gave up masturbating both at home and in front of her, these were very intimate and special nights for the two of them.

He knocked on her door and could feel himself straining in his tight underwear. She answered with a white bathroom tied firmly around her body. She smelled wonderful after her bath.

"Well hello. Sorry I didn't get a chance to get dressed." Her seductive smile always kills him.

She led him to the couch before grabbing a bottle of wine and pouring a glass for the two of them. She grabbed hers and casually cuddled on his side with her hand resting on his thigh. She could see his firm erection through his pants and noticed he was breathing hard. She knew he wanted her to ask him to kneel in front of her and bury his head between her thighs. But she also knew it was Thursday and he needed to sweat a little before he was fed.

"So remember last week when I brought up the idea of a special kind of shower for you? Have you had a chance to think about it?"

He was so turned on. "Uhh yeah, a little." He fantasized about drinking her nectar all week but was too nervous to bring it up.

"We both know it's Thursday. Maybe we can try washing you tonight before letting off all that pent-up frustration."

"Yeah, we can try it, if you'd like to..." She cut him off.

"Well there's one other thing..."

"Yeah?"

"I'm also using this as kind of a test. A taste test if you will."

"What do you mean?"

She grabbed his penis firmly. "Look my little slut. We both know you've been dying to drink my pee for the last 6 months now." She looked deeply into his beautiful eyes before kissing him softly and gripped him tighter. "But I'm having a party Sunday night and you'll be our toilet for the evening. I need to know two things." She paused, increasing his interest.

"First, that I can count on the pretty little mouth and tongue to suck and swallow every drop from each pussy. And two, that you can tell which pee is mine based on taste alone."

He was trying his best to contain himself. Her grip was almost pushing him over the edge. The idea of 5 beautiful cougars feeding him their cum and pee was overwhelming.

"And there's a prize in it for you if do well this weekend, my little slut." She playfully tapped his nose. "I know you check out Michelle's ass every time you see her. And yes, she's single now. If you pleasure all my friends and keep the bathroom nice and tidy, I promise to tie you down to my bed upstairs and lock you inside with Michelle for two hours, who's been really horny recently. Maybe I'll let her decide if you can cum or not."

He could feel his orgasm building, He grabbed her wrist and pulled her hand away.

"Good boy!" She kissed him on the cheek. "Remember just a few months ago when you'd ruin your pants and pretty boxers with just my grip alone. You've come a long way! Okay, no more talking."

She laid back more on the couch away from him. He knew this meant it was feeding time. He stripped to just his boxers. 

She grabbed his ass tightly and had the look in her eyes while staring at his ass. The type of look that he knew meant she was really in the mood. He knew he had pleased his cougar. 

She move her glance to his eyes. "Hurry up and get on your fucking knees." She untied her robe and slid off her soaking panties while he knelt in front of her. She grabbed the back of his head with both hands and pushed him into her pussy. 

Her eyes rolled back as he probed his tongue deep into his vagina. She was lost in ecstasy. She cummed without her clit even being touched. His cute ass was on her mind.

She never had a fantasy to fuck his ass until now. Now she wanted to shove her fingers deep inside him. But she wasn't sure. He was still a masculine guy and she didn't want to hurt his feelings. Regardless, this was a topic of another Thursday. 

Even though she had her orgasm, her grip on his head didn't leave. She knew he hadn't had his fill just yet. She only fed him once the night before because it was late. Like she told her friends, he was a hungry cub and needed a lot of cum down his throat to function.

After 4 more orgasms she led him to the bathroom. She laid him on the bathtub and rode his face. She looked deep into his eyes before starting to pee. He closed his eyes while savoring her taste. She knew he was trying to memorize the texture. Like a good little cub.

After passing a lot of fluid, she gave him a towel to wipe his face and she took him to her room and laid him on the bed. She sat on his face and smothered him with her delicious ass. She reached forward and gave him the slowest handjob she could possibly give. She knew how to take care of her cub. 

He cummed for almost a minute. He licked her ass through it all. She could feel his muffled moans and screams vibrating against her smooth ass. She felt proud that her cub earned another orgasm.

She walked to her closet and put on her pajamas, which meant it was time for him to leave. He got dressed and kissed her good night. 

Before she let him ago, she grabbed his ass one more time and whispered in his ear. 

"Sorry cubbie, you'll be starving for the next two nights. I'm letting you feast on Sunday night so you won't get a taste until then. I'll see you here at 5 pm sharp."

Even though he just had cummed, he felt himself harden again.



Hungry Eyes



You are waiting for me in the shadows as I unlock the front door. My level of alertness has been dulled by a long day at work, making me an easy target. You slip in quietly behind me as I carelessly drop my bag to the floor and sift through the mail. I am not aware of your presence until you quickly grab me from behind; you wrap one arm tightly around my waist and bring a hand to my mouth. Your breath is hot on my ear as you tell me not to scream; if I obey, you will leave me unharmed. I nod my head in acceptance, and your hand slowly pulls away from my face. 

I ask you what you want, and your reply is simple. You tell me you've been watching me for weeks, witnessing my every action. You describe my daily routines with exact detail, and I realize you've seen me in my most intimate moments. You tell me you are here to help me, because you have recognized my needs. A flush rises to my cheeks as you begin to caress my skin. Your voice is a whisper tickling my neck. You tell me you know I've been lonely. You've seen my attempts at self-gratification, but you know nothing but a man ravaging my every inch will truly satisfy me. I can feel your arousal as you wrap your fingers loosely in my long, silky hair and tug gently, giving yourself access to my neck. You begin to tease me with your lips and tongue. I close my eyes as my body relaxes against you, lost in the moment. I know in my mind that this isn't right, but my body has been yearning for a man's touch for months. 

You take my relaxation as a sign of resignation, and the arm that had been around my waist moves up my flat stomach, slowly, setting me on fire. You keep a gentle but firm grip on my hair while your mouth alternates between soft kisses and nibbling on my neck and ear. Your free hand finds my breasts, and I inhale sharply as you begin to knead my soft mounds. My knees are trembling now; your touch is setting me on fire. Waves of pleasure being to course through my body, and you are confident that I have become completely submissive. You untangle your fingers from my hair, deciding my blouse has become a nuisance. It takes little effort for you to tug the material apart, sending buttons flying through the room. I lay my head back against your shoulder as your mouth resumes its invasion of my flesh. Your hands quickly set to work at unclasping my bra and disposing of it. My nipples instantly become erect from the cold air. A moan escapes my lips as your hands devour every inch of my naked torso. My hands cover yours, as if you need guidance. My hips have begun to involuntarily grind against your stiffening cock, causing my skirt to rise. You wrap an arm around my chest, using my breasts as handholds as you deftly move your hand between my legs.

Another moan, louder this time; you use the palm of your hand to stroke my wet panties. Our lips meet in a mesh of teeth and tongues. My legs buckle slightly as I feel your fingers probe my sex. You are able to penetrate my body with ease; your ministrations have made my pussy salivate. You ignore my clit at first; you seem to enjoy fucking me with three fingers. My hips move in time with your thrusts. My body quickly begins to quiver, and you take pity on me; with one flick of your thumb across my clit, I cry out in ecstasy. I shake violently as my juices pour into your hand. I collapse against you, but you have just begun.

You turn me around roughly, pressing your hard body against mine. Your every muscle is taught with anticipation. I can't see your face in the darkness of the foyer, but our mouths have no trouble finding each other. Your fingers wrap tightly around my upper arms, but the pain shoots a bolt of electricity to my core. You pull me down to the floor and straddle me, using your knees as anchors against my hips. I watch with lust filled eyes as you remove your shirt. You slide your legs down, allowing your full weight to rest against my body. You nestle your still covered against my pelvis, and I feel your full size throbbing through my skirt. My arms have instinctively wrapped around you, pulling you closer, but you have something else in mind...

* * * * *

This is my first attempt at erotic fiction, so feedback is greatly appreciated. Want to hear more? What do you think should happen next? What would you do to "me" if we were in this position?



Hungry Eyes



I sit in this coffee shop eating breakfast alone, and I think of another coffee shop, yesterday, 500 miles away. It was no big deal, really, just a small favor for a casual friend. As an English major, I am often asked to help out with my friends' writing. I sat there, tapping on your laptop, pretending it was actually holding my attention. I changed a word here and there, corrected a few minor errors, smiled as we chatted, but my mind wasn't really on the conversation or your essays. 

As you talked, my eyes wandered. I thought about how the dark 2-day stubble on your chin would feel against my skin. I could imagine it turning my neck tender and pink while your tongue found that sensitive spot just below my jawline, and a shiver traced down my spine. You smiled and I could almost feel your mouth on my nipples, your teeth nipping at my flesh. I thought of your beard scraping down my body as your mouth moved lower. 

I looked into your dark brown eyes as you spoke and lost track of what you were saying. You were tired, eyes drooping, and I wondered how you would look if they were heavy-lidded with desire instead of exhaustion. I wanted to touch you and find out. My eyes wandered down across your white T-shirt and my breath caught. I could see those shoulders rising up over me, smell soap and sweat, hear your labored breathing. I looked up quickly, hoping you couldn't read my thoughts on my face. Did I catch you looking at my breasts or was that just wishful thinking? By then I was getting wet, and I let myself fantasize for just a few minutes. 

You shoved me down onto my big four-poster, ripping my shirt over my head and yanking my bra down, frantic to touch and taste. My arms were imprisoned by the straps, and I squirmed, trying to loosen them, until you pushed my hands aside. "Be still." In reality we were surrounded by the smell of coffee and grease, the clatter of conversation and pots, but in my mind you were shoving my skirt up with one hand and lowering your zipper with the other. Yes, I thought, that's exactly how I want it the first time -- hot and hard and fast -- no time or patience to even undress. 

You pushed in to me for the first time, and I had to bite back a moan even as I smiled my thanks to the waitress refilling our drinks. Damn, I was so turned on, I could almost feel you filling me. I hoped you couldn't see my nipples. They were hard and so tight it nearly hurt. I wanted so badly to feel you touch them. 

Even while we were swapping family stories, I was hearing your voice low and rough, thick with passion. I could hear your groan as you buried yourself in me and my own answering sighs. I wanted to hear you say my name. I wanted to whisper yours, beg you for my release. I wanted to feel you thrusting in and out of me, feel your hands gripping my thighs and hips. You smirked at whatever we were talking about and I wondered how your face would look as you came inside of me. I wanted to feel your weight as you collapsed on top of me, your breath rasping in my ear, to savor the stillness that comes in those moments after great sex. 

A pot clattered in a metal sink and my fantasy shattered. I wondered if you noticed anything as we chatted on the way out to our separate vehicles. Could you tell I how much I wanted you? Did you have any idea how wet I was? I got in the car and turned the air conditioner on, trying to cool down. I might as well not have bothered. 

Even though you weren't in front of me anymore, I couldn't get you out of my mind. I wondered what it would be like to wake up to you. Long, slow, lazy morning sex. My mind drifted back to my four-poster. 

I had watched you drift off to sleep after we slowed down enough to finish undressing, then closed my own eyes to rest. My body was sore and I knew there would be bruises on my thighs. I came awake gradually. We were lying spooned, my back against your chest. I felt your hands wandering over my body. You cupped my breast in your hand, then squeezed gently. I sighed and shifted a little, feeling your erection pressing in to my back. You moved my leg up and back over your own and stroked the sensitive skin of my inner thigh. I moved my hips, an invitation, and felt your smile against my shoulder. You slipped into me from behind, moving slowly, one hand kneading my breast. I felt your beard scrape against my shoulder, then your teeth nipping at my neck. I moaned your name and you moved just a tiny bit faster. Your hand left my breast and moved lower, rubbing my clit. I whimpered and you rubbed faster, moved faster within me. My body tightened as I came, and I heard your breath catch. You rolled with me until I was on my stomach with you pressed tight against my back, still inside of me. It took only a few powerful thrusts and you came inside of me, then fell heavily down beside me. 

The stop sign coming up brought my mind back to the road. I turned the A/C up higher and took a few deep breaths, preparing to act normally when I went in to my family. 

I still ache.



Hungry Eyes and Hidden Desires



In New York City it was hard to have privacy anywhere you went. Most New Yorkers got used to the fact that anything they said or did was always seen or heard by at least one other person and it didn't matter if you were standing in Times Square or in a run down apartment in Brooklyn. For Mya, that was something she now had to get used to after moving from San Francisco after she got a call from a fashion magazine that specialized in vintage clothing. This was going to be the start of something amazing though the butterflies in her stomach couldn't leave her alone as the thoughts of the unknown kept dancing around in her head making it nearly impossible to sleep even at two in the morning. 

Sitting up in bed Mya swung her legs over the edge and rested them on the cool mahogany hardwood floor and huffed. She was tired but sleep wasn't coming to her and even if she was able to sleep getting up in four hours was an option she was steadily losing. Climbing out of bed she paced the floor as thoughts of her first day of work buzzed around in her head and the what if game shortly followed. Forcing herself to stop pacing she looked out of her second story bedroom window at the crystal clear water as it sparkled and reflected the light of the silver dollar moon. "Maybe a swim might calm my nerves" she thought as she went to the bathroom to grab one of the fluffy white towels. with her initials embroidered in them. Flipping the light off she closed her bedroom door behind her and went to the staircase and grinned like a Cheshire cat. Hopping on the banister she giggled all the way down and jumped off before meeting the decorative sphere at the end. Throwing the towel over her shoulder she grabbed an apple from the kitchen and crunched her first bite before going to the French doors that led to her patio.

Mya poked her head out and looked around nervously to see if anybody was up in her neighborhood before actually stepping outside in her matching red bra and panties. The summer heat was unbearable even in the wee hours of the morning and that led to her next bold move. Reaching behind her slender fingers unclasped her bra and laid it on the chair and before she took off her panties she double checked just to make sure there wasn't a single pair of eyes on her. Kneeling down beside the pool she ran her fingers through it before standing up and walking backwards to the glass door, jumping slightly when the cool glass touched her naked back. Launching forward she took off for the pools edge in a full sprint and dove in and took comfort in the cool water enveloping her entire body. Coming up for air whipped her head back and wiped beads of chlorine scented water from her face and began to swim. Little did she know that from the moment she closed her patio door there was a set of sapphire blue eyes locked on her beautiful body along with a chewed lip. Aleksandr had watched her ever since she was moving boxes into the vacant house next door and he couldn't keep carnal thoughts of her from his mind. He had already laid in bed and masturbated to the fantasy of her coming over and surrendering herself to him. For now, though, he could only watch. Skinny dipping, after all, was a spectators sport and he was an aroused spectator that took pleasure in watching her from his kitchen window. 

Alek's temperature was rising and the ice cold vodka and the air vent above him pouring out ice cold air from the central air conditioning couldn't cool him down. The tumbler of vodka had switched from his right hand to his left and his right was busy undoing the drawstrings of his shorts and freeing his already throbbing hard cock. Stroking slowly he took in every feature of her delicate little body, eyes trained on her perky breasts and hard nipples. "You dirty little girl..." He whispered as his hand pumped faster along his cock. "You want to be watched...to be...mmm seen." His hand quickly stopped and his eyes widened when he saw her look to his window making him duck out of the line of sight. His heart raced in his chest while he tucked himself back in his shorts and hurried upstairs to his bedroom. Mya kept staring at that window and she couldn't help but wonder if someone was actually there. "Someone had to be there." She thought out loud and climbed the steps of the pool and quickly collected her articles of clothing and went back inside not knowing who else was watching.

She groaned horribly when her eyes caught the bright red numbers of her alarm clock and knew that the potentially longest day in her life was starting in only three hours but she couldn't stop thinking about that window. Was somebody watching? Was there really someone there or was she seeing things? The thought of some stranger watching her naked body cut through the water like a hot knife through butter turned her on. Reaching into her nightstand she withdrew a small red vibrator and turned it on. She teased the pierced pebbles that were her nipples and thought more about that face. It was barely visible but it was there...it had to be there. Working the vibrator down her abdomen Mya cried out when the now warm metal of the vibrator touched her bare mound just above her damp, aching cunt. Working the tip over her clit she bucked her hips, slowly fucking the vibrator until her orgasm began to build. Parting the soft folds with the vibrator she grabbed a pillow to muffle her scream when her orgasm couldn't be held back and rocketed through her making her quiver and jerk uncontrollably through one of the hardest orgasms of her entire life. "Two...hours." She closed her eyes and smiled. "Two more hours...to a new life."

The high pitched scream of the alarm clock in Alek's ear had him reaching out and desperately smacking his hand down on his nightstand trying to silence the insufferable noise and once he found it he snatched it until the cord pulled from the wall. "Fuck it all." He muttered and got out of bed and began his morning routine and thoughts of the neighbor girl came to mind. Her limitless curves all the way to her beautiful eyes though he only caught a glimpse of them looking into his window. Once dressed in his suit and his hair brushed he grabbed his coffee and headed out to grab the mail and saw her catching hers. "Good morning new neighbor!" He said gleefully on his way to the mailbox stopping only to grab the newspaper and the Wall Street Journal. "Hi there! Hey I have a question for you!" Folding the newspaper around the mail he paused by his brand new Bentley GT. Mya sashayed up to him and bit the tip of her finger and twirled strands of blonde hair in her free hand doing all she could to play the innocent routine. "Did you enjoy the show last night?" Alek did all he could not to turn the red and snatched open the car door and shook his head "No idea what you're talking about. By the way you can call me Aleksandr but most call me Alek." She giggled and got in her jeep and left for work.

The first photo shoot was hectic and chaotic to say the very least. Make up artists were busy getting her prepared for the next set of photos but her mind wasn't on fashion even as gorgeous as all of the outfits were. "Mya! Pay attention woman you're driving me nuts!" Mary said as she applied the final touches to her eyes and grinned. "Beautiful. Absolutely beautiful. You should let me buy you a drink later." Her eyes got big and she shook her head "No thank you but it was nce of you to offer." Mary frowned and put down the mascara brush and shot her a flirty wink. "Well if you ever want a good time I can gladly show you around." She blushed and went to the set while trying to shove thoughts of her make up artist that was obviously flirting with her and Alek. Was she wrong? Did perhaps somebody else live there and she accused the wrong guy? Those two questions buzzed in her brain for the next nine hours until she could barely strike another pose without her eyes closing and making her photographer furious. "Go home. Get sleep. Come back tomorrow. You act like you've never modeled before. Hopefully we aren't pushed back too far because somebody can't stay awake." Maybe it was his tone or the lack of sleep she had gotten the night before or even the thoughts of Alek watching her skinny dip but she finally snapped. "If you can't deal with me needing sleep when I slept like shit last night to begin with I have a place where you can shove that camera." Storming off set she forgot that she was still wearing the soft pink dress covered in half bitten cherries that comprised the last part of her photo shoot. All she could think about was getting undressed and going for a swim and maybe, just maybe, seeing her voyeur again.

Later that night when all seemed almost too quiet Mya went outside completely naked this time not worrying about giving a strip tease. She dove in the pool and this time Alek didn't stare from the kitchen window but in his bedroom. Mya did slow back strokes with her chin pressed tightly to her chest to be able to look at the window and pouted when he wasn't there but whatever it was that drew her attention to the upstairs window she was glad she looked. There he stood leaning against the window pane with the soft glow of a lamp on behind him giving just enough light to make out his suit; the very suit she had seen Aleksandr wearing earlier that morning. After seeing that suit she proceeded to get out of the pool and went into the house, climbing the stairs to sleep and thank the heavens that the next day was a Friday.

The next morning started the same as the one before for Alek. He had his shower, his morning coffee, and this time when he saw her he couldn't take his eyes off the brilliant victory rolls she had put in her hair nor could he stop staring at her walk as she made her way to the mailbox and right as he grabbed his paper she skipped up the walkway making her firm, perky breasts bounce with each little skip to give him his mail and again she asked "Did you enjoy the show last night?" Fed up he finally decided to humor her "What show are you talking about miss..." She laid the mail on his paper and smiled that cute, adorable smile of hers. "You mean you don't watch Dancing With The Stars?" With that, she turned and skipped back to her jeep this time giving him the pleasure of watching her ass. 

For Alek this was the day that dragged on, not Monday. Every Monday he was in his office bright and early ready to attack contract negotiations like a hungry wolf until the days end. Fridays he had to force himself to make it through with dancing tumblers of Stoli in his head. "This fucking day can't drag any slower, can it?" He asked out loud in an empty office only to be startled by his receptionist answering on the intercom. "An hour until it's time to party hardy and you need to get laid, sir." He hissed and looked at his intercom to see that it was still held down from earlier. "Do we have to discuss my private life?" She laughed and fired back with a sarcastic tone "This is why you need to get laid. You're all pent up and aggressive." He released the button to keep her from hearing anything else he had to say and leaned back in the leather chair and put his feet up on the table. "She's teasing me...she knows that I'm watching her and she's playing games with me..."

Mya's day wasn't nearly as long. The happy, peppy side of her took over though it was masked on the set by her fierce and seductive expressions. Between each set of photographs she wasn't watching the clock and maybe that's what made it go by so fast. Her makeup artist continued to hit on her despite being shut down the first time around and her photographers all sang her praises when they started editing and making the final selections for the magazine. "Well guys and dolls I'd love to stay and chat but I have to go home and play." Mary perked up and gave her another flirty wink "Going home to play, hmmm? Who pray tell are we playing with?" Mya flashed a devious smile that contradicted the sweet, innocent act she pulled on Aleksandr that morning. "Wouldn't you like to know!" Grabbing her bottle of water she left the set in a hurry to get back in her jeep and head for home with thoughts of giving Alek the best show yet.

Waiting nervously for the clock to strike 2 A.M she put on a pair of red panties with see through lace trim and a matching bra. She then finished off the look with six inch high heels and of course her victory rolls, his eyes were glued to them that morning so she could only assume he liked them. Mya took a deep breath and sashayed out to the pool and slipped into the water heels on and all just enough to get her drenched and climb right back out. She then sat down in her favorite lounge chair and saw him watching in the window though he tried to hide she could still see his face. Keeping her eyes trained on the window her hands began to explore her body, caressing her neck down to the valley between her breasts and over to her satin covered nipples and teased them until they were easily visible beneath the fabric. Alek's hand had once again found his throbbing shaft and pumped slowly up and down in a corkscrew motion while she pleasured herself. What he didn't realize is that she was staring at him and watching him though it was hard for Alek to think about it when he was so focused on her hands that now traveled south until they reached the waistband of her underwear and one slowly pushed inside the dainty satin, the other retreating to her breast and squeezing it. 

Letting out a tiny whimper of pleasure when she began to manipulate the pierced rosebud of her clit he watched that hand moving around in her panties followed by her hips slowly lifting into her hand, grinding against her fingers. Sinking two fingers inside she worked them in and out slowly at first, her thumb working the pierced pleasure button in hard little circles until she couldn't contain herself anymore and let her orgasm take its course. She came down slowly from that orgasm, it took a lot longer to rid herself of the light headed sensation and get feeling back in her legs. Standing slowly she wobbled back into the house and passed out on the couch. She was far too sleepy to want to climb up any stairs and besides that tomorrow was Saturday; that was always a day to sleep in.
Early that morning he rose from bed and went to the window hoping that maybe his mystery girl was out for a morning dip but much to his dismay the backyard was empty. Quickly getting his robe on Alek darted down the stairs and went out to greet her and didn't see her there even though her mail had been checked and the paper was sitting there. Taking his paper he went to the mailbox and when he pulled it open he saw the soft red panties with a little note attached to them. "Did you enjoy MY show last night?" He quickly went inside and slammed the door and sat down in his favorite chair in the den. Freeing his cock from his boxers he brought her panties to his nose and took in the sweet scent of her and he almost came. Wrapping the soft scrap of fabric around his thick shaft he stroked his cock with them and he was stunned at how quick he was brought to orgasm, several thick white ropes of his seed landed on them and he had collapsed back in the chair and all out of breath. "She's...fucking...with me...mmm."

Alek tried anything to take his mind off of her for the rest of the day but it wouldn't work. He constantly checked his email both private and work, watched television, listened to music, anything for a sweet distraction but his mind was focused on her panties and what she had done in them. The feel of her hot cunt squeezing him and milking every last drop of his seed was all he could think about. Using her sweet young body however he wanted was running rampant and making his cock begin to harden once more. "Soon...my little tease. Soon..." Sneaking out back he climbed over the wooden plan fence and left the seed covered panties with a little note of his own then quickly ran back to his place and went straight down to the basement where it was nice and cool.

Two A.M hit and this time she wanted to make him wait. Anything good was worth the wait, was it not? She tried hard to stay inside and as hard as it was she forced herself to fall asleep. Tossing and turning for the first half hour she finally became comfortable and then her dreams took over and the first thing she saw was a suited figure standing in her doorway and she laid there naked. "Touch yourself." He told her and without question she obeyed, placing a hand between her legs and touching herself for a man she could barely see. "I want to watch you come for me..." came the voice again and in reality she was beginning to sweat. Just when she was about to orgasm her eyes popped open and she was awake with no chance of going back to sleep. 3:56 A.M on her phone and a drunk text or two from Mary trying to flirt with her and nothing else to possibly help her get back to sleep and the need to swim and hopefully see her favorite, and hopefully only voyeur.

Running out back she was about to dive into the water when she saw something that stopped her dead in her tracks. Picking up the red panties she turned a deep shade of red when she felt the fresh wetness that was slightly sticky and knew exactly what he had done. Dropping them back on the table she perked when a little folded up note fell out. Opening it up she grinned deviously when she read what it had to say. "Best damn show I've watched in my life. Certainly better than Dancing With The Stars, you little minx." 

Diving into the pool she decided that tonight there wouldn't be quite as spectacular of a show as the night before. Mya had him right where she wanted him and it was going to be fun just to watch him squirm and play along at her pace and her rules. She swam a little longer than usual perhaps it was trying to make up for the fact she wouldn't be masturbating for him or maybe she was just too damn hot to get out and face the heat that would ensue shortly after she was dry. No matter what it was she was comfortable in the water though her mind was on Aleksandr and if he was actually watching. When temptation turned irresistible she looked in every window and not a curtain moved nor a face in sight. That alone made her get out of the pool and head inside to fight another round with the Sandman. 

There was nothing like a slow, lazy Sunday in his book. Sundays were a day to lay back and forget that any kind of work existed and just have fun but she came to his mind haunting him again. He resisted the urge to go to the window he had to put her out of his mind. She was far younger than him and what would her parents say if they knew a middle aged man was watching their daughter? Just then a knock came at the door forcing him to get up from his favorite chair and answer it only to see her staring up at him with that adorable grin wearing a pair of short shorts and a bright red camisole; the same color of her panties she had worn specifically for him that night. "Uhm...I know we haven't really got the chance to talk or anything but the light for the basement steps is out and I can barely see but then I remembered my neighbor is super tall! Would you...I dunno...be able to help me out?" Alek grinned and stepped out onto the poor reducing the space between them to a few inches. "I think I could help out a damsel in distress. You lead the way." Turning around she jumped off the porch steps and skipped the rest of the way there "C'mon slow poke!" Alek just chuckled and rounded the Bentley and up her porch. "You have to give old guys like me the chance to catch up! By the way...you never did tell me your name." Reaching out she took his hand and squeezed lightly and beamed up at him "Call me Mya and the basement is right over here." Keeping his hand she dragged him to the hallway and opened a door that turned out to be the coat closet "Woops! I know my own house more than this I swear." She cursed herself in her head and dragged him to the next door and snatched it open and pointed an accusing finger at the light fixture. "It's too high and I don't wanna try then fall..." 




Hungry Eyes and Hidden Desires



The innocent routine was working like a charm on him and judging by the slight bulge in his jeans she knew he was thinking about her. Reaching up he had to push on his tip toes just a little and for a man that stood 6'7 that was saying something. Unscrewing the bulb he handed it to her and she quickly put the new one in his hand and let her fingertips drag along his wrist before letting go. "Thanks so much!" She clapped her hands when the light came on and he could see down the steps to the basement. "You should get a light for the bottom of the steps, too." Mya simply nodded and led him to the front door where he stopped and looked at her. "That really was an amazing show." Mya gave him a hug for his troubles and nodded "It's my favorite show in the world!" He smirked and ran a fingertip down her spine and whispered in her ear "Extremely sexy...." She quickly backed up and looked up at him with wide eyes and her bottom lip pressed between her pearly white teeth. "I didn't think you liked Dancing With The Stars THAT much Aleksandr." He turned a light shade of red and stepped out onto her porch and stopped once more. "Alek; everybody calls me Alek." He nodded then cut back across her lawn and disappeared into his house once again and slammed the door shut.

"Are you fucking kidding me right now? How do you tease me so fucking much and keep me right where you want to all the god damn time? Fuck!" Storming into the kitchen he pulled out the turkey he roasted last night and cut it up and made a sandwich and threw it on the bread and slapped a piece of cheese on it and called that good. Eating slowly he thought more about her and the more he thought about it the more he became consumed by lust. Shoving himself out of his chair he threw what was left in the trash then went to his room to take a nap or at least try to.

Mya sat in her kitchen with a fork in hand trying to eat a piece of chicken she had made the night before but it was more playing with it and poking at it than actually eating it. Her attention was on the pool as the night slowly began to set in and the pool lights automatically kicked on along with the heater causing the crystal clear water to glow and steam like a scene straight out of a ghost movie. She abandoned her plate and put on some music and tried to clean up, quickly eradicating him from her mind. 

For a beautiful girl on a Saturday night she had absolutely nothing to do; nothing but tease the attractive neighbor and give him 'shows' but tonight it had to be different. There was a sexual tension steadily building and it was going to explode so she devised a plan. Tip-toeing out of her front door she eased it shut though that was the easy part. Sneaking around the side of his house she pushed open the gate, stopping and sucking in a breath through her teeth when the chain link gate made a loud creek. Mya sucked in a breath and wiggled her way through the small opening and left it open just in case she needed a fast escape though she highly doubted it; Alek needed her as badly as she needed him. Sitting down in one on one of the patio chairs she beamed when he stopped dead in his tracks in the kitchen and in the very spot he saw her naked for the first time. Sliding his glass door open he swallowed hard and cleared his throat "What can I help you with now, Mya?" She didn't answer him with words only with one bold move. Undoing each of the buttons on her beige trench coat she opened it up to expose her nude body for him to see. "Do you like to watch, Alek?" His throat became dry and his brain suddenly stopped functioning. "Do you enjoy it when I undress and swim in my pool?" Again, his words wouldn't come and all he could do was drink in the sight of her body. "I know you like to watch...you don't have to answer me. I know you like it...I know you want me...and I know what you did with my underwear. By the way why did you give them back? I wanted to give you a...present." Pulling up a chair he sat across from her and forced himself to speak. "I just wanted you to know what your present did to me. I know you know what I did with them. Why are you-" "In your back yard? In your patio chair instead of mine?" He nodded and she giggled in return "I thought that since you liked to watch me...that I could make it extra special."

His head was spinning and he almost couldn't believe this was real. Reaching out a shaking hand he touched her thigh only to have her push it away. "No Alek...you like to watch. I want you to watch me...it's not just a turn on for you, you know." Standing up he grabbed her by the arm and pulled her to him making her whimper from the force of it. "I have watched you enough, Mya. You are right I love to watch but when you show up in my back yard you can't honestly expect me to believe you only want to fuck yourself while I watch." The innocence that once adorned her face was gone and replaced by lust and hunger. Laying her down beside the pool he took her jacket off completely and kissed her roughly, his tongue pushing past her lips and exploring her hot mouth. Pulling back from the kiss he lowered his mouth to her nipples that he had longed to suck on ever since he saw the pierced pebbles gleaming in the moonlight and suckled hard on each one, biting and nibbling them to force more moans from her and when he got exactly what he wanted it was time to go lower. He shoved her thighs apart and took in the sweet scent of her cunt to find that it was ten times as intoxicating as her panties. Touching her soft folds with the tip of his tongue he traced them slowly and shuddered when the taste of her coated his tongue. He parted her delicate lips and gasped at the sight of the soft pink treasure that he had waited what seemed like a lifetime to plunder. Licking up and down slowly he flicked her clit each chance he got.

His eyes gleamed when her hand found his hair and pulled him in tighter against her and her hips ground against his tongue and mouth. "Oh Alek!" Was all she could get out between frantic breaths and moans that were steadily growing louder. Taking her pierced clit between her lips he suckled hard on it and forced his middle finger inside of her, fucking her furiously to bring her to her first orgasm of the night. "A...lek...pl...ease!" He shook his head when she begged him and she didn't even have to tell him what she was begging for. Instead he added another finger and forced her to come for him. The sight of her orgasm was one to truly behold and that was saying something. Her legs quivered, her hips bucked, her toes curled, and she screamed so loud he thought the neighbors on the next block would hear her sounds of pleasure. It was only then that he started undressing and she abruptly stopped him and did it for him. Pushing him on his back she undid his drawstrings with her teeth then pulled them down along with his boxers and gasped when she caught the first sight of his full 9 inches hard and anxiously awaiting her attention. She straddled his lap and nestled his cock between her soaking wet folds and rocked her hips, grinding slowly and crying out each time the tip of him brushed against her clit. "Only...fair. You mmmmade me...beg..." Gripping her hips he stopped her and glared. "Ride me or I'm putting you on your back and fucking you. Now." His words went unheeded and she ground against him a little more and just when he was about to flip her over she rose up and quickly guided him inside of her and impaled herself down on him forcing every inch deep inside of her. Mya had never taken so much inside of her and the feel of him stretching her so much was enough to make her move slowly instead of the pace she was sure he was expecting. 

Sucking in hard breaths when her cunt clenched so tightly and hotly around him he lifted his hips to help her set a pace she could handle and she quickly stopped him and set it herself, bouncing hard on him, crying out when she angled her hips just right the head of him clashed against the tiny pleasure center deep inside of her forcing her close to the edge almost ready to orgasm for the second time tonight. Aleksandr couldn't take not being able to be on top of her and rolled her over right when she came down on him and drew back until he was barely inside of her and slammed in deep working his hips to hit her sweet spot and quickly found it. "Oh fuck! So fucking good Mmmya...fucking perfect!" Keeping up the furious pace he shuddered when the sound of skin slapping skin and her moans had him forcing himself not to come but it was no use. The sweetest sound he heard was her few words but those few words were huge. "Alek! Alekkkk I'm gunna! Ffffuuuuccck!" She screamed his name until her voice went silent and her orgasm rocketed through her making her so much hotter and tighter around him. "That's it baby...let go...let it all go..." Most men would let a woman calm down and stop thrusting but not Alek; he continued ramming inside of her. Rubbing her clit in hard little circles he felt her clenching even tighter around him until it was almost unbearable to continue without coming. "I'm...I'm gonna..." She put a finger to his lips to silence him and shook her head. "W-wait..." Rolling him over she pulled off of him and wrapped a hand around his cock and stroked furiously. "I want to watch..." She giggled deviously and gasped when he let go and several thick ropes of his hot seed erupted from him and landed on her beautiful face and neck. Slumping back he tried to get his breath and she crawled up next to him and whispered in his ear. "I guess now you get to ask if I'm the one that enjoyed the show, hmm?" He laughed and kissed her lightly and nodded to the house. "Ready for round two?" Mya shook her head and grabbed her coat "I'm sleepy..." Alek grinned and stole another kiss. "Well then I'll see you around, huh?" Mya smirked wickedly and nodded "How has that changed?" Mya brushed a few strands of hair behind her ear then walked out of the back yard with a big, goofy looking smile on her face. Maybe this wouldn't be the last time her favorite voyeur had a taste of her after all.



Hungry For Dori



Foreword: This story was written at the request of a fan. This is a work of fiction. None of these events ever happened. This story is nothing more than words that came from my imagination. Any similarity to real events is purely coincidental. 

Operators of erotic story web sites, whether free or fee-based, have my permission to post my stories for public reading, provided that credit is given to "Hungry Guy" as the author, and as long as you don't make changes other than fixing typos. Even beware of fixing typos, for I occasionally use local slang and dialects that may be flagged by your spell checker. Thanks.

###

"Bye sweetie!" Dori called out to Ray. "I'll be back later!"

"Have fun, honey!" her husband called back with a chuckle.

"At the gyno? Yeah! Right!" Dori smirked as she closed the door and walked out to her car.

Dori had made an appointment with Doctor Ryan last week for a routine exam for this evening after work. Normally the drive across town would be a short one, but the 5:00 PM Friday rush-hour traffic delayed her. 

She entered the office and signed in a few minutes past her appointment. 

"Hi Dori," the receptionist said. "Rough traffic?"

"Yeah," Dori answered. "Sorry I'm late."

"No problem," the receptionist said. "You're the last patient tonight, so you'll be in and out fast."

"Great!" Dori said.

"Oh, one thing though. Doctor Ryan had to go see a patient at the hospital earlier. Doctor Guy will see you instead, okay?"

"Well," Dori stammered. "I, uhm, guess so."

Dori took a seat in the empty waiting room and started reading the latest issue of {COSMO, HOUSE AND GARDEN, WHAT TYPE OF MAGAZINE WOULD DORI READ?]. About 5 minutes later, Dori looked up to the sound of a patient exiting the door adjacent to the reception window. The nurse followed her out and met Dori's eye, "Dori, the doctor will see you now."

Dori stood and entered the little hallway lined with examination rooms and followed the nurse. 

"Stand on the scale please," the nurse asked.

Dori knew the routine and stood on the scale while the nurse adjusted the weights on the levers.

"One sixty," the nurse mumbled and jotted Dori's weight on her clipboard.

The nurse raised a meter-stick and noted her height.

"Five feed, eight inches," the nurse mumbled and jotted Dori's height on the clipboard.

Then the nurse led Dori into an exam room, took her blood pressure, and then handed her a medical gown.

"Undress, put this on, and doctor will see you in a moment."

The nurse left, and Dori did as the nurse instructed, being familiar with the procedure.

About ten minutes later, Dori heard a knock on the door and then an unfamiliar man entered the exam room carrying a clipboard.

"So, you must be Dori, eh?" he asked.

"Yes," Dori answered. "But you're a man!" Dori squeaked.

"Yes, I was the last time I checked," the doctor chuckled.

"Are you the doctor subbing for Doctor Ryan?"

"Yes. I'm Doctor Guy."

"Doctor Guy?" Dori said.

"But call me 'Hungry'."

"Sure, er, Hungry."

"Now," the doctor said, fingering his chart, "You're 46?"

"Yes," Dori answered.

"Now, up on the table please."

Dori hesitantly climbed up on the table as the doctor pulled the stirrups from underneath.

"Now put your feet in the stirrups, please."

Dori felt her face turn hot as she spread her legs for this strange man.

The doctor then closed some sort of clamps around Dori's ankles where they rested on the stirrups.

The doctor rolled a stool over and sat. Dori leaned up to watch his head bob around between her legs facing her crotch.

The doctor looked up. "Relax Dori. Lean back down." 

Dori leaned back and then felt the doctor insert a speculum into her vagina. She could feel him prodding her most private anatomy with his fingers. 

"Ow!" Dori screeched. "Do you have to do that?"

"Yes," he answered from between her legs.

"Doctor Ryan didn't have to touch me!" Dori said with a little anger in her voice.

Doctor Guy stood and walked around the table. He grabbed Dori's wrists and clamped them into place.

Dori started to struggle, but her wrists and ankles were shackled firmly in place.

"What are you doing?"

"I want to see how much a woman can take."

"Shit! Let me out of this!" she demanded as she struggled against her bonds.

"But we're not done yet, Dori," the doctor answered.

Dori started yelling, "Help! Help! Nurse! Help!"

"Stop that, Dori," the doctor scolded her. "Just before I came in to see you, I told the staff that they can go home for the day. There's nobody else here now."

"Oh, God!" Dori cried.

"At least nobody who can help you," the doctor added with a chuckle.

Dori watched as Hungry sat back down on the stool between her legs and removed the speculum.

"What are you going to do to me?" Dori cried.

"This," he answered as she felt him slide a pair of his fingers into her pussy. The pain intensified as he continued to push them in deeper. Then, the pain exploded as she felt his fist plunge into her pussy. "Yeooww!" Dori screamed.

"Like that?" he asked.

"Ow! Ow!" she cried and struggled. "That hurts!"

"Oh? Really? Well, it gets worse, Dor," Hungry said with another chuckle as she felt him fuck her cunt with his fist, pumping it in and out and in and out, working his arm like a steam locomotive piston.

"Stop! Please!" Dori begged.

"I haven't even started, bitch!" Hungry scolded her.

Dori breathed a sign when she felt Hungry pull his fist out of her pussy. She watched him walk over to a cabinet on the wall, and remove a large bottle. Then he returned to his seat between Dori's legs.

"Now what?" she cried.

"Feel this, bitch?" She felt something cold and hard pressing against her pussy. She knew it was that bottle, and she struggled as he increased the force until the bottle popped into her cunt evoking another scream from Dori. It felt huge and hard inside her.

Hungry waited, listening to Dori crying at the pain for several minutes before yanking the bottle out.

"Are you done yet?" she begged.

"Not on your life, bitch!" Hungry answered with a snarl.

Hungry stood and removed the blood-pressure bag from the wall, wrap it tightly and sit back down. 

Dori knew what was happening when she felt him shove the bag into her pussy.

At first it wasn't as large as the bottle, then she heard him pump that squeeze-bulb and feel the bag growing inside her. In a moment, it felt even larger than the bottle, and she screamed in agony yet again.

"Jeez! You're a noisy one," he scolded her. "Can't you take a little pain?"

He let the air out of the bag and she thought, hopefully, that he was done. Then Dori watched in horror as Hungry unbuckled his trousers and let them fall. Then he pulled his jockeys down letting his cock spring to attention.

"Oh God! Please don't rape me! I'm married! Please!"

"I already know about your family. Now get ready to take me in." He stepped up to her between her legs. She felt him rubbing his fingers on her muff and between her cunt lips. 

"Man, you're a hairy one!" he said with a grin.

"What?" she asked.

"That's the hairiest cunt I've ever seen!" he answered. "You're too dry for me though. But I can fix that."

She saw Hungry kneel down and felt him press his face to her crotch. He began by teasing her. She felt him slowly licking her muff, swirling her pubic hair with his tongue and licking up and down the creases where her legs met her torso. Then he slid his tongue between her cunt lips and began licking up and down. The sensation was intense as he licked up over and past her clit, then back down to her cunt hole. Despite her efforts to resist, her body betrayed her as her climax built. Then he began fucking her with his tongue, lapping up the juices that flowed from her. 

"Oh! Stop! Oh! Oh!" she begged, but she knew it came out sounding more like a moan.

Pausing, Hungry commented, "Wow! You like this, don't you?" 

"Uh, no! I don't' like it! My husband..."

"Yeah, what about your husband?"

"I, uhm, he..."

"Shut up and enjoy it, bitch!" Hungry demanded and buried his face in her crotch once again.

He resumed fucking her cunt with his tongue. She could feel her pussy juice flowing, dripping down into her ass crack and also down his chin as he moved back up to her clit. He licked up and over her clit again, then swirled his tongue around it a few times. He sucked on it for a while, drawing it between his soft lips, stretching it deep into his mouth with the suction of his breath. 

"Oh! Oh!" Dori screamed, as angry at herself for betraying Ray as at this Doctor.

Then Hungry resumed licking and flicking it with his tongue, occasionally poking his tongue into her pee hole at the base of her clit. He played her pee hole with his tongue, pushing his tongue against and slightly into the tiny opening.

"Oh God! Oh God!" Dori screamed, the guilt canceling out the ecstasy.

Hungry continued to suck, prod, and flick her clit with his tongue until finally -- she lost control and started bouncing and thrashing on the table, puling against her bonds. 

"Oh God! Oh God!" she continued to scream, not believing that she could come so easily -- far easier than she ever came for Ray, though she had never let a man pleasure her orally before.

Her explosive orgasms continued involuntarily as he gently stroked her clit with his tongue prolonging her orgasm, while occasionally dipping his tongue into her cunt and drinking the juices flowing out from within.

Finally, he pulled back and stood watching Dori pant and gasp.

"I see you enjoyed that, eh?"

"I. I! Uhm. No! I didn't enjoy that, you bastard! You raped me! " But Dori wasn't sure. Was the guilt masking the fact that she did enjoy it? She didn't know. Having enjoyed it meant that she betrayed her husband - she betrayed Ray.

"Technically, no, I didn't yet rape you." Hungry explained. "But thanks for reminding me."

Dori watched Hungry walk over and remove a box from the cabinet once again. Then he removed a handful of shiny metal implements and approached Dori's side.

Dori gasped when she saw what he was about to do. Hungry ripped open the paper gown down the front.

"Hmm," he said. "Nice pair of 34B's."

Dori didn't answer and he grasped one of her breasts in one hand and placed a clamp on her nipple. The pain was incredible and Dori screamed out in agony. Then hungry placed another clamp on the other nipple.

Next, Dori watched as Hungry stepped up between her legs again and pressed against her bottom. She felt the tip of his cock pressing between her pussy lips. He grunted as she felt his cock slide inside her. 

"Aaah!" Dori screamed.

"Yeah!" Hungry moaned. "You had your fun, now its my turn!" he told her and began rocking his hips back and forth sliding his cock in and out of her soaked pussy.

A moment later, Hungry began to moan, "Ah! Ah! Ah!" in rhythm to his thrusts into Dori. He continued until he was spent, and withdrew his cock from Dori's cunt. 

Hungry pulled his pants up and walked over to the cabinet again. Then he removed some sort of plastic tube and placed it against her pussy. He began pumping it, and she could feel a suction against her pussy. 

"What are you doing?" she screamed.

Without answering, he stopped and held the tube over her body, pointing it at her chest, and pressed the plunger, spraying cum all over her chest. 

Then he tossed the tube into the sink and started toward the door.

"Now, are you done?" Dori cried out. "Please! Let me go now that you raped me! Please!"

"But Dori," Hungry crooned. "The real fun hasn't even started yet. I'll be right back."

A couple of minutes later, Hungry returned, followed by a three of the most disheveled bunch of bums Dori could imagine.

"Oh no!" Dori screamed when she saw Hungry's entourage -- two white derelicts and a black bum. "No! Please!"

"Dori, these are some of my friends from the state hospital. They're assisting me in my research." Hungry he turned to them and declared, "Have at her guys." 

They immediately began undressing. 

"Oh God! No!" Dori stammered when she saw how utterly huge they all were. The two white guys were hung bigger than most black men, and the black guy looked inhumanly gigantic!

One filthy, seedy white guy was the first to undress. He approached her with a wide grin that showed her his yellow rotting teeth. He rushed up between her legs and immediately fell onto her. His filthy face hovered just inched from hers, breathing his putrid breath onto her before pinching her jaw open with his dirt encrusted fingers and pressing his open mouth to hers. Dori gagged and bucked at the fetid odor emitting from his body as he shoved his tongue into her mouth. Then she felt his thrust his hips forward and plunge his cock into her pussy. 

Then she felt an excruciating pain as his cock slammed into her cervix. She never imagined such was even possible, that a dick could be long enough to reach her cervix, but here it was happening to her. And the pain! Oh, the pain!

By then the others had all undressed and seemed to be waiting their turn. Unable to move or speak with the one derelict having mounted her, she dreaded the idea of servicing all three of them. And then what? Would this "Hungry" let her go? Does he have more horror in wait for her? Or would he then, kill, her? 

Then she felt more movement between her legs, and it wasn't the bum inside her. Another had squeezed between their two sets of legs -- the other white guy. She could barely see the second derelict squeezing in as if he wanted to fuck her while she was still being fucked by the first bum. 

The realization hit her that bad could, indeed, turn to worse as she felt a second cock plunge into her cunt. The second cock wasn't as deep of that of the beggar riding her, of course, but the fullness of two cocks inside her was truly filling. 

At that, the first man, the one on top of her, arched his back up, spewing his putrid breath into her face, and began moaning. She could almost feel his terrible cum squirting out the head of his cock against her cervix and splashing around inside her vagina. Then the second guy began to come almost immediately, spewing even more cum into her jam packed pussy. 

Still, the horror wasn't over yet, she knew, when she saw the black dude standing over her, looking down from over her head. The horror of what was next hit her when he climbed up, placing one knee on the table right next to the side of her head. Then his body rose up over her head as he placed his other knee on the other side of her head. The first guy still coming inside her leaned back to give the black guy room. 

"Aaaa!" she screamed when she saw that sheer size of the black guy's cock. Not only was it bigger than she ever thought a cock could be, but she knew where it was going. 

"No! Please! I don't do that!" she screamed almost incoherently. "I can't do that! Please! I don't even do that for my husband! Please!" 

The black guy just laughed, punched her jaw open and lowered his black hairy ass-crack to her forehead and slid his gigantic cock between her lips. He slowly lowered his ass onto her face forcing his monster cock deeper and deeper. Despite her gag reflex kicking in when his cock pushed through the back of her throat, even though it was only halfway inserted, he continued to lower his ass. Finally, nearly his full weight was bearing down on her jaw as his hairy black balls pressed against her nose. 


The pain was indescribable! Her body was trying to buck from the gag reflex, but the first guy on her held her down. 

Even after inserting his black cock all the way down her throat and sitting on her jaw, he leaned forward on top of the white guy. 

Dori panicked. She couldn't breathe and her lungs were screaming for air! What with a huge black cock down her throat almost to her stomach, and his weight bearing down on her jaw, and what with the weight of two guys on top of her, she almost knew that she was about to die from asphyxiation! 

And then -- and then she could feel the cock in her mouth start to throb as spurts of cum flowed down his urethra. She could almost taste his cum as he spurted deep into her throat, again and again. What with all of the coming in her body, and all the moaning, she couldn't tell what moans were coming from whom and which moans corresponded with what coming. Dori just wanted the humiliation to end, even if it meant her death from suffocation.

Dori's wish almost came true. It seemed like she hadn't taken a breath in minutes, yet the urge to breathe had gone away and she felt a sense of calm as her vision grew blurry...

A moment, or an hour, later, Dori felt a stabbing pain of light in her eye. Then she opened her eyes to the glare from the fluorescent ceiling light panels. She sat up and looked around and suddenly felt light-headed. The world was spinning. Where was she? 

She realized that she was still in the doctor's office. 

What's that smell? Oh God, she saw that her body was covered and dripping with cum.

At least she was no longer shackled down. She stood and walked over to the sink. She considered wetting a paper towel and washing herself off, but she had no idea where that bastard fake doctor went or his team of psychos.

So with her body still encrusted with cum, she grabbed her clothes which were, fortunately, still neatly folded on the chair and hurriedly dressed. 

She slowly cracked the door to the exam room open, revealing a darkened hallway. Hoping the office was now deserted, she slowly crept down the hallway in the darkness, out into the waiting room, and out the front door. 

She got into her car and drove off toward home, still reeking in cum.

She walked into the house where Ray was watching some footbowl game on telly, and she hoped that she could slink past her husband without him seeing her shame. Fortunately, he was absorbed in the game, and she slunk past to the bedroom. 

Knowing that footbowl games seem to last forever, she hoped that she could shower and get to sleep before Ray came upstairs. She showered and scrubbed and scrubbed herself everywhere. She gargled over and over again, and brushed her teeth multiple times. When she finished her shower, she tossed her clothes in the trash, and headed to bed. 

Ray was in bed upon entering the bedroom. Dori dropped her gaze to the floor as she walked over to her side of the bed.

"What's wrong, honey?" Ray asked.

"Nothing," Dori mumbled.

"C'mon honey," I can tell something's wrong. "C'mon tell me what."

"It's nothing you can do anything about."

"What? Bad news from the doctor? What? Tell me!"

"Nothing wrong with me, you know, medical. I just didn't like the new doctor is all." 

She climbed into bed and pulled the blankets to her chin, hoping that she got all the foul stench off her body.

###

Ray slept off an on that night. He knew that something had happened at Dori's doctor appointment last night that troubled her. It wasn't like her to keep secrets from him and he was worried that something was wrong.

The hours passed as he dozed in and out of sleep. When the morning light finally broke through the curtains, he felt Dori snuggle up against him.

"Mmmmm," he mumbled.

"Honey," his wife whispered in his ear a she nudged him slightly.

"Mmmmm," he mumbled again smiling to himself that his wife seemed to be feeling better. Then he felt her nibble on his ear.

Ray slowly rolled over to face his wife with a smile. "Mmm, what was that for?"

"That was for you."

"Feeling better this morning?" he asked, feeling relieved that she seemed to be over her funk.

"Yes," she answered, though, knowing his wife's signals, he sensed a hesitation in that "yes."

"Honey," she continued, "there's something special I want -- er, and need -- to do for you."




Hungry For Dori



Before Ray could answer, Dori crawled under the blankets and grabbed his cock in her hand. 

"Oh yes!" Ray said as he leaned back and prepared for his imminent orgasm. Though she wouldn't give head, she occasionally gave him a hand-job. Yet, he wondered what got into her.

Then, he nearly gasped when the answer to that question was thrust into her mouth. What got into her was him -- or rather, his cock. His cock had gotten hard at her first touch, and then he felt her engulf his hard cock with her mouth. 

Ray couldn't believe what was happening. His Dori was blowing him. The sensation was incredible, though he had gotten head from girls before Dori, it was years since he had experienced such joy. She was sliding her mouth up and down the length of his shaft. Every time her lips passed over his cock-head, it brought him closer to climax. 

"Oh man! Oh God! Dori!" he moaned as she continued her relentless pumping. 

At that, he felt the swelling in his loins of the imminent climax.

"Dori!" he tried to call out to let her know before he came in her mouth. "Oh! I'm! Oh! About! Oh! Oh!"

And then he came as Dori continued her assault on his cock. 

"Oh! Oh! Oh!" he shouted as he began to shoot his load into his wife's mouth.

Still, she continued to pump and suck, even as he shot wad after wad into her mouth. She didn't stop until he was drained and was pumping dry. 

Dori then crawled back up to him. Ray stared into his wife's face as she licked cum off her lips and swallowed.

"Wow!" he said. "What was that for?"

"I, er, needed to do that for you, honey." 

"I'm grateful, but..."

"Please, honey, there'll be more. But just don't ask why, okay?"

Without another word, Ray pulled his wife to him and snuggled the rest of the morning. 

- END -



Hungry for Emdamania Pt. 01



cowritten by Hungry Guy & Emdamania

* CHAPTER 1 *

* BY EMDAMANIA *

She knelt at his feet. Looking up at him fully clothed but with his semi flaccid penis hanging outside of his open trousers, her nerves crackled with excitement. This was not to be some ordinary blowjob, although at 36 she still enjoyed a tremendous thrill from the thought of eagerly and joyfully providing oral pleasure for a man knowing that the only reciprocal stimulation for her was purely cerebral. This was the mutually decided upon first step toward a new beginning for her. This was a special arrangement that could have been said to have taken the 20 years she had wanted to do this for or the eight months of apprehensive but anticipatory Internet correspondence they had just concluded. Their meeting had been accidental, their conversations unprecedented, their plans meticulous, their desires, in tandem... 

In that moment frozen in time at his feet, her heart beating a bruise into her chest from the inside, she reflected on all that they had discussed. All that she had always wanted, all that she had fantasized about continually and thus unconsciously had prepared her entire life for. The service, the submission, the ritual torture and sexual abuse, the training and abject humiliation. All voluntary. All completely willingly. The possible long term damage, the probable eventual modifications both deliberate and incidental... Was she passed it? She had always said that when she failed to give herself to a Dominant man she had come into contact with when she was 22, she would probably never belong to another. But here she was. Well-preserved and not bad to look at when dressed in her usual conservative attire. Her stretching, diet, exercise and Yoga had really paid off since she began that regimen so many years ago. 

She would have a new regimen now. 

Aside from a few stretch marks on her thighs and hips, she could have passed for 28 had it not been for her sizable but somewhat sagging breasts, and that, she told herself, was mostly due to genetics. (How that condition might now be accelerated far beyond what nature intended now with the binding and suspensions they had discussed set in as she tucked her right heel under her padded alabaster thigh and opened her mouth to prepare for the first taste of her new life.) She thought of herself as an object now. The most logical evolution for her. She was to become an object of lust. Of sex, suffering and denial. An object of torment and humiliation. There to be used and tortured for another persons enjoyment as they saw fit to use her. And at just that very moment, when she felt the chill of a viscous and transparent dollop of her own vaginal mucosa that had been hanging in the air until then touch her right ankle, did she take him into her mouth for the first time. 

He did not make her wait long, but long enough for her to contemplate the act she was about to perform. Looking back down into her nervous gaze, he released his bladder and began to urinate directly into her mouth. She was at once consumed with shame and yet there was relief as her feelings of sexual excitement blend with her deep humiliation and together swell into a symphony of intense long awaited sensation. She swallows. It wasn't much. It is hot. That much she can tell. As her mouth fills again, the taste buds at the sides of her tongue are activated and she feels more than tastes the acidic content of his piss. She instinctively grimaces, for it is a strong and bitter taste. 

It occurs to her that she is probably fighting some primordial human instinct by ingesting the liquid waste of another. She swallows again. It is coming faster now. Her mouth and throat rebel and contract, but she is a woman of great will and has often fought against instinctual nature and deliberately set about to cause herself severe sexual discomfort. Her mouth is flooded and she swallows again. Her olfactory sensed are lit up and alive with this peculiar and new sensation. It is as if she had been "plugged in" somewhere and now every fiber of her body, every sense were now amplified, only this was better then any experimental XTC trip she had taken at the trance clubs in the city. She swallowed again. It was all happening so quickly, and yet her mind slowed everything down, as if to dissect, examine and preserve every nanosecond for future access. She was bordering on the verge of an involuntary gag response. 

This was foreign to her. She had long since lost her gag reflex during her bouts with Bulimia in middle school. That was all behind her now. There were far more interesting ways to be self destructive, and she had flirted with many of them. She fought the urge to choke, steeled herself and then swallowed again. Now settling into a rhythm, she believed she had it under control. It would not be easy, but she was determined to persevere. Gulping now in timed sequence with the contractions of his urethra, she drank of him and drained him and took him into herself a most intimate and unusual manner. Her mouth and throat burned from the bitterness. She thought she might have detected coffee or even wine. Breathing through her nose to keep up with him had opened yet another dimension. Her nostrils filled with the scent of urine. Male urine. Nothing she had commonly been this close to before.

It made her think of what she was doing, what she was really doing, and what she was becoming. She continued to drink and drink, each swallow becoming more effortless then the last, but still her mouth kept filling until it was no longer a matter of suppressing ones revulsion at the execution of this deed. It was now becoming a simple fact of physics. Her stomach was becoming full. Just as this new concern was beginning to turn to alarm, she felt him subside a little and his flow slowed to a trickle. She distantly heard herself moaning and making throaty sounds. They were ecstasy sounds. Sex sounds. Love making sounds. Was she so turned on by this? The dangling string of lubrication was now a small puddle that moistened her thigh and leg. Although sexually unrelieved and technically not satiated in the conventional sense, her eyes were glazed over and she felt sleepy. A dreamy feeling came over her and she felt at peace. She held his penis between her lips within the wet nest of her cheeks. No orgasm could ever have felt that good. This was where she belonged. 

* CHAPTER 2 * 

* BY HUNGRY GUY *

Tensing his pelvic muscles, he squeezed out that last squirt of piss into her mouth while her lips still clung to his shaft like a tight rubber ring. He had written many erotic stories about this sort of activity, and had accumulated a small following of fans, both male and female, but had never truly expected a woman to offer herself to him thusly--to be his slave, to literally own her body, to user her mouth as his toilet whenever the need came upon him.

"Stand now, Emdamania," he said. 

She stood. He could see the melodrama going on in her eyes--the thrill of giving into her fetish to be a human toilet and of becoming his slave--and the terror of giving total ownership of her body to, basically, a total stranger. 

"Follow me," he said as he led her upstairs to his bedroom.

"You will sleep on that mat on the floor next to my bed."

"Yes, Master," she said.

"I sometimes wake up in the middle of the night to piss. So..."

"Yes, Master?" she said with a little more excitement in her voice.

"So--when I wake up and say 'Toilet!' you will sit up immediately, lean forward, and open your mouth so that I can use you as my urinal. "

"Yes, Master!" she said. 

"That way, I don't have to walk all the way out of my room to the bathroom to pee."

"Yes, Master. This is exactly my purpose in life."

"For now, remove your clothes. You will never need them again."

"Are you going to fuck me now, Master?"

"No. I don't fuck toilets. But toilets don't need to wear clothes. So, c'mon!"

Emdamania removed her clothes, and stood there naked in front of him. She then lay down on the mat he placed on the floor next to his bed, pulled the thin blanked over her body, and rested her head. 

At that, he showered and got in bed a little later. 

Indeed, once or twice, he climbed out of bed in the darkness of the night and spoke, "Toilet!"

Sleepily, she sat up and leaned forward, with her mouth agape.

He stepped up to her and inserted his soft member into her oral cavity come his urinal.

His pee flowed freely as she gulped it down. She was still new at this, so she struggled to swallow it fast enough not to dribble on her bedding. 

The next day, before leaving for work, he instructed her to stand in the middle of the floor in his spare room. As she stood there, he shackled her wrists behind her back. Then he tied a cotton rope tightly, but not too painfully, around one of her breasts. He threaded the rope through an eye-hook screwed securely into the ceiling and into a beam above the ceiling paneling.

Taking the free end of the rope, he tied it to her other breast. Then he got ready and left for work. 

The hours passed. As long as she stood motionless, the rope didn't hurt so badly. But it was exhausting to just stand there. Bending her knees, even slightly, caused the rope to pull on her breasts. Removing any of her weight off her feet would just transfer her weight to her breasts, as if she was hanging by her breasts.

The hours dragged by so slowly as the discomfort and exhaustion increased with each passing second. 

Finally, he arrived home from work and released her. 

"I have something for you," he said.

* CHAPTER 3 *

* BY EMDAMANIA *

She stared at the 24-ounce bottle. It was filled to the lid with piss he had collected and saved for her during his time away from home today. It was dark orange yellow and a little bit cloudy. It was disgusting. It was his piss, and she was going to have to drink it. 

"Well! What are you staring at? Go on now drink it!" he gestures to the bottle of fluid, now room temperature. 

She is reminded of the bottles she has seen on the Thruway exits of motorists who could not wait. The thought to her is repellent. He gives the black bulb in his hand a squeeze and the inflatable rubber dildo inside of her pussy increases in diameter. She flinches. 

"Drink my piss, you wretched cow!" and he pumps again. 

"Wait! Wait! I'm sorry! You're stretching me. I can't." This was different than from his training, still in its early stages when he would pee directly into her mouth in short measured spurts to allow her to keep up with him. She was actually face-to-face with this cursed and paradoxical act. Confronted with what she was doing. He raised the bulb.

"Ok, Ok. Please don't stretch me anymore. I will do it." She lifts the bottle from the table. Her face contorts and grimaces the bottle comes under her nose. Usually she is spared the indignity of smelling the stuff. Usually it passes over her tongue and straight into her belly one reluctant swallow at a time. She takes a small mouth full. Her chin quivers and she gags, but she swallows it. 

"You knew you would have to do this when you agreed to come here. Tell me you like it when I make you drink piss." He gave the bulb another squeeze. 

"I like it! I like it! Please! Please! Please, no more stretching!" She took a big mouthful and swallowed very quickly, making a face like she sucked a lemon after. She deserved this, but she was not adept enough at the task and feared what another pump might do to her already throbbing pussy. She took the bottle in both hands and tilted in into her mouth and began gulping. She screwed her eyes closed and curled her toes but continued to swallow. 

He watched her throat move as her head tilted back. When she had finished, she released a long belch unbecoming of the well-preserved, conservative, and classy woman that arrived a few short weeks ago, but suitable of the dog-fucking human toilet she was there to become. 

"Say it!" he said, holding the bulb. 

"I like it when you make me drink your piss. I am a piss whore. It turns me on to be your toilet. This is my calling. Thank you."

"Do you want more?"

Tears welled up in her eyes and her face turned red and her chin started quivering with fear again. 

"Lay down." He points to a low padded table. He attaches the suction cylinders to her nipples and flicks on the machine. The dreaded hissing sound begins again. She is producing. 

"There we go. I can feel where they are swollen, full and heavier than yesterday. We will suck them dry." He then placed a wire metal frame over her face and dropped a large clear plastic funnel into it. This held it upright, over her mouth. He connected a clear plastic tube from the end of the funnel and placed the other end into her mouth. 

"Tell me you want this."

"Please! I'm so full."

"Tell me you want this!"

"I am your urinal. It turns me on when you piss into my mouth. Please use me." 

He released the valve and slid the dildo out and whistled for the dog who pranced in and immediately stuck his snout in between her legs and started licking. Moving back to the head of the table, he unzipped and pointed his penis into the clear plastic funnel and said, "Look! Watch it come out of me. This is my piss. You are my urinal. Don't you forget it! I want you to watch yourself drink. Next week we start filming.'

The dog licked, the suction hoses hissed and drew milk and he began to fill the container inches above her face directly in front of her eyes. 

"You are a toilet. You must get used to this." His urine filled the funnel and her hips ground in ecstasy. He was training any thought of normal sex out of her, and it was happening quickly. He increased the suction as he finished pissing and sat down in a comfortable chair to watch her drink leisurely as she was milked.

* CHAPTER 4 *

* BY HUNGRY GUY *

He had just taken a shit one afternoon. 

"Emdamania!" he called out. "Come here!"

His slave girl came running up the stairs and into the bathroom. "Yes, Master?"

"I just took a shit." He leaned over, putting his palms on the edge of the bathtub, pointing his ass at her.

"Lick my ass clean."

"Master! Please! Please don't make me do that!"

"Do it!" he ordered. 

"Yes, Master," she squeaked and knelt behind him.

He felt her part his ass cheeks with her fingers. A moment later, he felt the warm wetness of her tongue sliding up over his shitty sphincter.

After a few seconds, when he had felt she had done a reasonable job, he said, "Good enough." He paused for a moment and asked, "How do you like being my slave so far? Do you wish to continue?"

* CHAPTER 5 *

* BY EMDAMANIA *

Emdamania thought for a few moments, then answered, "I think I would like to be shackled to the low bench in preparation for a more permanent station." 

"Well..." he started to say. 

"I have this image of me laying on my back, maybe in a bed or a low laying bench and [you] walking over to me and standing over my head from behind. You tell me to open my mouth and when I do you point your flaccid dick into it. I imagine your cock head being only a few inches at most away from my lips. You can feel my breath on your cock it is so close. Then you start pissing and my mouth fills up. When it is full part way you tell me to hold it. I have to breathe through my nose and I can smell the piss in my mouth. Then you tell me to gargle and then close my mouth. You tell me to swish it around so that I can taste it. You call me a disgusting whore and tell me to swallow. I do but I gag because it is so gross. Then I lay my head back and open up my mouth again and look at you standing above me, your dick pointing at my face only inches away. You ask me if I want more. i tell you I want to be your urinal and i want to learn to drink your piss. I tell you I am ready for more. Again you fill my mouth partially. The sound of the liquid filling the hollows of my cheeks causes my pussy to drip at the thought of how nasty I am being. You tell me to swallow. I do. You say, 'What do you say?'. I tell you, 'Thank you.' You tell me that you are turning me into a piss-drinking whore. I smile and open my mouth and request more. You say I am improving but that it will get worse before it gets better. I tell you I want to suffer and be degraded."

* CHAPTER 6 *

* BY HUNGRY GUY *

"Very well," he said. "Come with me, piss whore."

A moment later, they were standing before his "special" closet that was secured with a padlock. With key in hand, he removed the lock and opened the door.

"What do you see in there?" he asked, pointing into the open closet.

"Three big trunks, leather straps, and a pile of BDSM toys. What is that thing that looks like a metal mouth?"

"Oh, that? That's a mouth spreader. Dentists use it during oral surgery." He laughed and said, "I use it for OTHER things."

"Oh!" she said.

"Do you know what is in the trunks?"

"No, Master. What is it?"

"Your new home! For the rest of your life! Help me remove the trunks." 

Together they slid the heavy trunks out of the closet set them down. He opened each of them, revealing their contents. 

"Oh my god!" she gasped. "Really fantastic! Wow!"

With the tools within, he assembled the device: a long padded bench with a wooden toilet at one end and assorted belts, shackles, and stockades at various locations.

He flipped the toilet open at a horizontal seam in the wood and said, "Lie down."

"Yes, Master." 

She lay in the device, placing her head in the bottom half of the open toilet seat, and placing her wrists and ankles in the open stockades. 

He closed the toilet over her head, and closed the stockades over her wrists and ankles. Then he strapped her across her chest, stomach, thighs, and lower legs. He attached numerous padlocks to the toilet box and stockades.

"I know this is what I want; and it is what I deserve, but I'm a little scared, Master."

"Well, you'll get used to it. You had better! You'll never be out of this thing again for the rest of your life. From this moment on, you are a human septic system."

The last thing he did was pick up one of two objects made from PVC drain pipe. One was a section of pipe with a 45-degree angle piece at one end; that was for a male toilet; the angle piece went over the toilet's penis. The other was a straight section of pipe capped at the end with a narrow oblong cut near one end of the pipe; that was for a female toilet; the oblong cut faced the toilet's vagina and clitoris.

At that, he closed the toilet lid onto her face and left the room, closing the light and the door as he left.

Later that night, he returned to the spare bedroom. Opening the lid, he stood there, slid his penis out of his BVD's and pissed on her face as any male would use any toilet. She was plunged into darkness immediately after.

She spent a restless night. It was uncomfortable, to say the least, to spend the night on her back, strapped and shackled in one position, with her head held rigidly in place.

He peed once or twice during the night. 

But when he came to her in the morning, he looked down at her and said, "Open your mouth."

She did as instructed, and he sat on her face with his anus directly over her mouth. He was about to give his slave her first taste of solid waste--shit. 

He felt the pressure of his shit in his bowels--the need to have a bowel movement. He sucked in a breath and pushed. The feeling of his shit sliding past his sphincter always felt good. He had to press a little stronger since he was shitting into a sealed container: her mouth. His 200-plus pounds pressing down on her lips made for quite an airtight seal. Even if she resisted it, his abdominal muscles were ten times stronger than her throat muscles. 




Hungry for Emdamania Pt. 01



She had been holding her breath for about 20 seconds already--an eternity for someone to hold her breath. He knew that she was feeling abject terror at that moment. How much longer is he going to make her hold her breath? What if he doesn't keep count of the seconds that he sits on her face and lets the minutes go by? She is shackled in place, completely immobile, and she will suffocate and die in only a matter of minutes! But that is much of the thrill and the rush of being a toilet slave--to be at the complete mercy of another person of the opposite gender while they use your body as a "thing" without caring about your safety or comfort.

Her body was now bucking wildly and straining against her shackles in futility. In time, she'll learn that will just use her air up faster.

She had now been holding her breath for nearly 60 seconds. And her next breath won't be for another two minutes--at least. He pushed another lump of shit out of his asshole into her mouth. 

Unbeknownst to her, though, he was keeping careful watch of the seconds on his watch. He'd never tell her this, but he cherished her, maybe even loved her, though he will use her as nothing more than a sewage system from this day forward. He would never, under any circumstances, let any genuine harm come to her. 

He felt his bowels empty with that last lump of shit, so he told her to lick his asshole clean before he stands. He knew she was in agony, and would take heroic effort to do as instructed. He was pleased when she made the effort. He felt her tongue brush against his quivering anus in her attempt to lick it clean.

He stood and let her let out an explosive exhale. She lay in his contraption gasping, the scent of shit emerging from her mouth, and filling the room. He left the room to leave her in her misery while he went downstairs to have breakfast.

Emdamania had been his full-time toilet slave for about a week. She had been locked in his toilet slave bed almost non-stop during that time. Has had had nothing to eat or drink during that week except for his excrement and a daily multi-vitamin pill. 

It had been comical the first time she puked up his shit. During her second day of being his full-service toilet, a brown geyser shot up out of her mouth after he had taken a shit, and made a filthy mess of his toilet slave bed. That had been the only time he had released her: so that she could wash the toilet-bed and then wash herself. 

He came into her room one day carrying two tripods and several cameras. He opened the toilet lid to reveal her face, grinned, and said, "It's show time!"

"Yes, Master."

He spent the rest of the afternoon pissing and shitting into her mouth. With a full pot of coffee on the warmer, another on the stove, and a big glass of wine, he intended to keep her chugging. 

Sometimes, he would stand and piss onto her like any guy would use a toilet. Other times, he would sit on her face and slide his member into her mouth and watch his piss overflow past her lips. 

He had had a big meal at Outback Steakhouse the night before. A big juicy T-bone steak and steak fries always gives him the shits the following day. 

He put Black Sabbath in the CD player to set the appropriate dark and mystical mood for the movie. Then he started all the cameras going.

The first time he shit, he sat on her face and shit directly into her mouth like he usually does, but that doesn't show anything to the camera except to catch her chewing and swallowing a turd of shit after he had finished. 

The next time he shit, he squatted over her face. "Catch my shit with your mouth as it drops out of my asshole," he told her. 

"Yes, Master," she said.

The two cameras got a good show from that, showing lumps of shit falling from between his legs into her mouth as she chewed and swallowed the solid sewage while Hard Road played in the background.

The day continued like that until evening when he packed up his cameras and left her in the darkened room. 

He spent the following day editing the scenes and producing a Toilet Slave movie on DVD to sell copies on e-Bay. 

* TO BE CONTINUED??? *

It's your turn Emdamania... 



Hungry for Eve



Foreword: This is the second story that I have written by request, and it is partly a collaboration with her. I normally give permission for operators of erotic story web sites to post my stories. However, because this is a collaboration, we ask that you get permission from both of us before posting our story. Authorship for this story belongs to both Hungry Guy and Eve (who has requested to be anonymous). Thanks.

###

I had been lurking in the alt.torture newsgroup for years. I had always had a fascination with BDSM, but most of my edge play had been in my own imagination. While my husband would sometimes play along with my tamer fantasies, I knew that he'd freak if he knew my deeper, darker fantasies.

As I was sitting on the sofa one evening sorting through the day's mail while watching television with my husband, I flipped through the semi-annual flyer from the local community college. 

"Honey," I asked, "what would you think if I took this writers' workshop?"

"Oh? I didn't know you had an interest in writing, Eve."

"There's this guy in the newsgroups who's been posting amateur BDSM stories. I won't tell the class that's why I'm taking the course, but I'd like to learn to write my own stories that I can post too."

"Then go ahead, Eve. Have fun!"

###

I drove to the campus after work the following Thursday for the first session of my writing class. It was almost 7:30 as I entered Warren Hall and took the elevator to the third floor. It was a short walk down to room 305. 

I entered the classroom and was relieved that it was a small class. There were only six other students present. I took a seat at the small conference table at which they all sat and nodded a friendly smile to the others.

The clock on the wall clicked 7:30 and the instructor walked in half a second later.

Holding a half-eaten Dunkin' Donut, he swallowed and said, "Good evening, class," in a thick British accent.

He took another bite of his doughnut, swallowed, and then continued, "Let's get started, shall we? This is the writer's workshop for anyone who might be in the wrong room."

He took another bite as one student jumped up out of his seat and rushed off apologetically, "Sorry, wrong class."

The instructor swallowed that bite and continued speaking, "Let's start by introducing ourselves, and revealing why each of us is here. I shall go first. I'm Henry, your instructor." 

He pointed to the student to his left a young man in his mid-twenties, and then took the last bite of his doughnut.

"I'm Carl. I want to learn to write Science Fiction. I've submitted a number of stories to Analog and Asimov's and others, but have never made a sale."

The instructor nodded to the next student.

"I'm Lucy. I love to read Harlequin Romances, and I'd love to try writing one someday." 

The remaining students each introduced themselves. Their objectives were all pretty much the same.

In a flash it was my turn and all eyes were on my. I hoped that I made a good impression. My thirty-something figure was a little plump, but my 40D bra size still gave my that hourglass figure that gals try to achieve. I brushed my long brunette hair back over a shoulder and introduced myself, "I'm Eve." I paused, not wanting to reveal my true motives for taking this writing class. "I'm married to a wonderful man who is very supportive, but I want more out of life than work and family. That's why I want to write."

The class had all introduced themselves, but during the introductions, Henry, the instructor, had opened up a Twinkie and was in the middle of a swallow.

One of the student's spoke up to the instructor, "Hey Hungry, you really got to stop choking those things down, man!"

The instructor laughed, "I know. But I just don't have the willpower to resist their chocolate charms my good chap. Say, didn't I see you in my Literature class yesterday morning?"

"Yes, sir. You have a good memory to remember me from that huge lecture hall."

"Yes these night classes are much more pleasant. I enjoy getting to really know my students one-on-one. Now, let's get to work, shall we? Who brought a manuscript to class with them today?"

The rest of the class was spent reading one student's manuscript and then critiquing it, and then the same with another. Henry told the class that we are required to write one short story per week to be critiqued by the class each Thursday, and to bring enough copies to hand out to the class.

I was excited at how well my first class went. And there was something hauntingly familiar about that professor, even though I had never met him before.

The prof had left the room by the time I collected my purse and folder and I walked out of the room in a huddle of other students. We rode the elevator down and out the building. I noticed the prof entering the cafeteria and I headed for my car to go home. 

####

I spent the weekend writing a short story to bring to class. 

####

The following week, I met up with Lucy walking through the parking lot, and we walked toward Warren Hall together. 

"What do you think of Hungry Guy?" she asked me.

What the hell? "What are you talking about, Lucy?"

"Hey, what'd I say, Eve? I was just asking what you though of the prof? I had him for freshman English last year. He a real character!"

"You call him Hungry Guy?" 

"Yeah, everyone calls him that. He's always eating something."

We arrived in class a few minutes early and took our seats. The prof showed up right at the dot of 7:30.

"Good evening, class," he started. "Do you all have manuscripts for the class to critique."

I set my story on the table in front of me, as did all the others. 

"Who wants to subject their masterpiece to the ravages of their classmates first?" 

Lynn spoke up, "I can go first if no one else minds."

Everyone, including me, heaved a sigh of relief. Lynn handed out copies of her story to the rest of us and we spent the first hour of class finding typos, poor grammar, weak characterization, and otherwise tearing it to shreds. 

I could tell that Lynn was shaken at these events. Hungry must have also, for he told Lynn, "Please don't feel so bad, Lynn. Even pros must expose their first drafts to this sort of scrutiny. 

Like the first class, the prof left the room upon dismissing the class. On my way back to my car, I walked down the sidewalk past the cafeteria and saw the prof eating a muffin and a cup of coffee. What a hungry guy I thought he must be! A sense of déjà vu hit me at that moment, but it vanished a split second later.

###

By the third class, I had written a number of stories that had been critiqued in class. I was getting better. I had even written my first erotic story; but it was just for myself. I could never show it to anyone, especially my husband. It was about how the prof kidnapped me and took em home with him and raped me. Maybe I could submit it to Literotica.com. The first thing we did today was that the prof demonstrated an exercise in brainstorming. He wrote a word on the blackboard, an each one of the class called out the first word that his word reminded us of. Then we each called out a word that one of those other words reminded us of. It was funny -- I kept thinking of words like "lick" and "suck" and "wet" and even "hungry." 

When we had filled the chalkboard with words, we then called out story ideas from the assortment of loosely related words and were told to write a story based on these ideas for next class. The prof smiled oddly at me for a second before we went on to critiques this week's story assignments.

I don't know why, but I had my purse and folder ready to get up as soon as the prof dismissed the class. I left the room ahead of the other students and was walking a short distance behind Hungry -- that's what we all called him now. It was eerie, though. Looking around, the campus was deserted. The other students from the writing class had already dispersed, and it seemed that the prof and I were the only two people walking around outside at that moment. 

At that moment he stopped and glanced behind him. "Oh, it's only you, Eve," he said in his British accent.

"Yeah. It's only me. I'm just headed to the café for a cup of coffee before I head home." I don't know why I said that.

"Me too. Care to join me?"

I walked with the prof into the empty cafeteria. I got myself a cup of coffee from the coffee machine and took a seat at one of the tables. Hungry joined me a moment later with his muffin and coffee. We were the only two people in the huge dining room.

I took a sip of my coffee. Man! The coffee's bitter here. Hungry pointed to a counter where they was extra sugar, so I got up and returned with a few packets of sugar to add to my coffee.

From there, we talked mostly chit chat. How he was originally from New Jersey and he can't stand the heat of the desert here and longs to go back east when the job market improves. I told him how I fly out east to visit relatives once a year or so. 

But, wow, I was suddenly feeling dizzy -- like I had just smoked a joint or something.

I must have looked ill. "Are you all right, Eve?" he asked.

"I'll be fine, I think I should be getting home, now, though."

"Let me help you to your car?" 

"Sure. Thank you, Hungry."

We walked out of the cafeteria and then the strangest feeling hit me. The next thing I knew, I was tied up and in some kind of padded box. It smelled like rubber and chemicals. And it was moving somehow. I could hear, like, traffic noises all around. Damn, I was in the trunk of a car. How long was I here? I had no way to know. I tried to kick, but I just made a muffled metallic sound. I remember seeing on one of those Fox "Get Out Alive" shows that if you're kidnapped in the trunk of a car to start ripping out wires -- the cops will pull the car over for no tail lights But I was bound so tightly that I couldn't move. And I hadn't the foggiest idea where to feel around for wires.

We had just turned onto some bumpy road. It seemed that I was in there for about two hours. But not knowing how long I had been there already, that didn't tell me anything. At least, being night, it wasn't too hot.

Finally, the car stopped. I herd him open the door and walk to the back of the car. He opened the trunk.

"Hello, Eve."

"Where the fuck am I?"

"You're in my car's boot. Let me help you out."

"Fuck you!"

"Gladly! But first!" he held up a funny smelling cloth to my nose and held it there for a minute or so until I passed out again.

I woke again laying on a mat in some strange windowless room. There was only one door on a far wall -- a steel door that looked to have no handle. 

As for me, there was a steel collar around my neck padlocked to a heavy chain bolted to a stud in the middle of the floor. Not only that, but I was also completely naked. I felt so humiliated already knowing this asshole has seen and touched my body.

There were other studs in the floor also with chains of various lengths bolted to them. The walls were lined with all sorts of BDSM gear. There was a Saint Andrews cross on one wall, a wooden pony, and a normal sawhorse in the middle of the room. There were a number of suspension harnesses hanging from the ceiling. And one wall was lined with glass cabinets full of all manner of BDSM gadgets. Overall it was a well stocked dungeon. I'd be impressed if I wasn't here against my will.

The chain wasn't long enough for me to reach any of the cabinets or the equipment. 

About an hour later, the door slid open like an elevator door, and Hungry walked into the room. He stepped over to me and said, "Good morning, Eve."

"Holy shit! You're Hungry Guy! From the newsgroups!"

"Rightie-oh, sister! And I know what you like!"

He grabbed another, longer, chan and locked it to my collar and then unlocked the short chain. 

"Stand, bitch!" he commanded.

I stood and he pulled me over to the saw horse. 

"Lean over this."

"Please! Don't do this!"

"Now, bitch! And spread your legs against each leg of the sawhorse.."

I leaned over the sawhorse with my ass in the air. He reached down and shackled each of my ankles to each leg. Then he walked around to my head and shackled my wrists to the other two legs of the sawhorse. Then he unlocked the chain from my collar.


Next, he went back behind me and felt up my pussy crack and up my ass crack.

"You're so dry and tight, bitch. I need to fix that first."

"Pleas! I beg you! Don't do this to me!"

"Oh, you'll like what I plan to do first. It's what comes after that you'll scream in pain. Bwaa, haa, haa!" Yes, he actually laughed evilly, "Bwaa, haa, haa!"

He kneeled down behind me and started licking my cunt. 

He licked up from just below my clit, over my clit and over my pussy hole. He stuck his tongue into my hole as he went over it. Then he went back down again. He paused over my hole for a moment, fucking me with his tongue. Then he continued back down to my clit, and played with my clit with his tongue for a while. 

Then he licked up around the inside perimeter of my cunt, up over and around below my clit and back down again. Oh wow! I couldn't believe it. Here I am being raped, and I was getting wet. Then he went back up the middle again, like he did before. He played with my clit, and then went up and lingered a moment over my pussy hole, fucking me with his tongue one more time, then back down to my clit again. I couldn't believe I was on the brink of coming! He continued up and tongue-fucked my hole again, and then came back down to my clit. I felt like I was about to burst! I had never come so close to coming so quickly before. 

Back up he went, and around the perimeter again. Get back to the target, man! He went back up and down the middle again, like he did the last time. I was this close to coming, and then he started sucking on my clit, and just my clit. Hard! Like my clit was a tiny dick he was sucking on. Here I come! Oh God! Here I come! I started bouncing and thrashing like I had never came before. I swear I made that sawhorse walk halfway across the room! He even continued sucking on my clit while I came! I just continued coming and coming until my clit started to hurt. And then I still kept coming and he still kept sucking. 

Damn, he was good! My husband could learn a few things about eating pussy from him! But shit -- I'm being fucking raped! I should be thinking like that!

I finally expended myself and he stopped sucking. Then he stood. My view of him was from my upside-down head just inches from the floor, and I saw him unbuckle his pants and let them fall. Oh shit! His cock was hard as a rock. 

He stepped forward and jammed it into my pussy. He pumped me a few times and then he stood there holding it inside me. He moaned as I could feel him coming inside me. 

Well, maybe he'll forget about torturing my ass.

He finished coming and then he walked over to a cabinet and took out some sort of curved metal clamp-like thing. "Do you know what this is?" he asked.

I didn't answer.

"It's a speculum. And I know what you want me to do with it."

"No! Please! That was just, you know, erotic chat. You can't really do that to me! Please!"

He didn't answer, but I felt something cold touch my pussy. Oh God! He's pushing it inside me. "Ow! Ow! Ow! Please stop!"

"Oh I haven't even started yet, Eve."

I felt him fiddling with it, and then I felt it getting bigger and bigger, like a cock getting hard while inside my pussy. But it still kept getting bigger and bigger. Then it started to hurt. Big time. Still, he kept cranking it bigger. 

"Eeeyow!" I cried at the incredible pain.

"Hmmm," he said, "five centimeters diameter. That's about three inches to you. I think I can get your pussy a little bigger, don't you, love?"

he started making it bigger again. "Yeeeow! Oooowwww! Oh! Oh! Owwww! Ahhgggg!" I screamed with the intense pain.

"There!" he said, "That should do it. That's a good seven centimeters, or about four inches."

He just stood there watching me for a while. After a moment the pain seemed to ease, but the cold room air blowing inside my pussy sure felt really weird. 

I should have kept quiet, but I asked, "Now what?"

"Now what? Now comes the main event, love."

Shit!

He brought over some more little metal things and reached under the horse. "Wow! Look how hard those nipples are! Don't tell me you're getting off on this!"

Was I getting off on this? I honestly didn't know any more. He clamped the nipple clamps on my nipples. They hurt, but I've worn nipple clamps before, and it wasn't so bad.

But I spoke too soon for he next placed a clamp on my clit. Eeeeyowww! I saw stars!

Then he got down on his knees again. I couldn't believe it when he started licking and rimming my asshole. He spent several long minutes getting my asshole good and wet with his mouth. I couldn't believe he did that. I almost told him, "Don't put your mouth to my asshole! You don't know what's been in it." But I don't think it would have been funny, given the situation.

Then he stood again, and I saw him spread something on his cock from a small tube. I sure hoped that was KY Jelly. Then he put his cock to my asshole, and pressed gently. I tried to clamp my asshole tight, but the speculum holding my cunt open also prevented me from clamping my ass sphincter closed tight. He increased the pressure and I felt the head of his dick penetrate me. He steadily increased the pressure and he cock slowly oozed into my asshole. Thank God he was doing it slow and gentle, and it wasn't hurting as bad as I feared. Other than that it felt like I had to take a wicked shit, it actually felt pretty good, to be honest. I guess this isn't the time to be honest, though.

He finally got it all the way in, and I could feel his hips pressing against my ass. 

"Oh man!" he moaned. "That feels so good, Eve! Your asshole is so tight and hot!" 

I could feel his cock twitching inside my rectum and then I heard him grunt again. I knew he was coming inside me again. Somehow, I could feel it inside me.

He held it in me for a few moments more before he pulled it out again. I felt like I had to shit so bad that I couldn't hold it in any more, and I just let it out. 

"Hey!" he laughed. "You're shitting my cum out! Holy shit! Well, now that your asshole is good and wet, it's time for the grand finale."

Then I heard him fumble with some other stuff. He slid a bedpan under the horse directly below my ass. But that meant that it was also inches away from my face. Then he inserted something small up my ass. I heard water run, and felt a warm sensation up my ass. Oh, cripe! He's giving me an enema. I felt a bloating sensation in my intestines as he filled my ass with warm soapy water. After a few moments, I felt like I was going to burst and that I was going to poop that enema hose out of my ass like a rocket.

Then I saw him holding something else up. From my angle, it looked like a dildo. A dildo up my ass won't be so bad, I suppose. No wait! I was a butt plug. No! I have to shit so bad! 

He removed the enema hose and immediately pressed the butt plug against my asshole. I felt him press it against my asshole and slide it in. Again, I didn't have enough strength to clamp my sphincter closed and he pushed it in deep. It hurt for a moment when he pushed the wide part through my asshole, but then it just felt like the world's worst cramp. 

I felt like I had to shit so bad, but as hard as I pushed, I couldn't. Did you ever have to shit and could feel it right there but it wouldn't come out? That's what this felt like, only with a vengeance! I couldn't shit that butt plug out no matter how hard I pushed. 

"I'll be back in a little while, love," Hungry told me, and walked out of the room. 




Hungry for Eve



The pain! The pain! The pain! Oww! The cramps were so intense and I never felt like I had to shit so bad in my whole life, but I couldn't and that made me feel nauseous. 

Fortunately, he returned before I threw up. He pulled the butt plug out and I gushed a fountain out of my asshole.

It all rained into that bedpan under my face and I felt like I was going to puke all over again. Thankfully, he pulled the dirty bedpan out and replaced it with a clean one. I was still dripping out my asshole, but not so bad and it didn't make me feel like puking. Though the sight was disgusting inches before my eyes.

"Now that you're clean, we can get on with it, eh?"

He had another object in his hand. From my angle, it looked like a dildo. A dildo up my ass won't be so bad, I suppose, and a lot better than a butt plug.

I felt him press it against my asshole and slide it in. Again, I didn't have enough strength to clamp my sphincter closed and he pushed it in deep. But it wasn't just a dildo. It was a vibrator that he turned on -- one of those good ones that made a low, bassy, powerful hum that echoed through my whole body. What with that speculum spreading my pussy wide open, I couldn't help myself and I came again. 

"Man, you're a hot bitch, Eve! How many times did you come for me so far?"

I didn't answer. I wasn't counting. He let me quiver and shake for a while as I came before turning the vibrator off. 

He slowly slid it out, and then -- oh no! I saw him fumble with another speculum. I closed my eyes and felt something cold press against my asshole. Again, he pushed it in easily. I felt it go deep up my ass, deeper than his cock or the vibrator. Then he started expanding it. I felt it spread my asshole open -- a little at first, then it was stretched until it hurt. 

"Gaaaak!" I let out a scream.

"Really, love? It hurts already? I've hardly opened your asshole two centimeters, er, inches yet." 

He continued fiddling with it and it hurt more and more. 

" OWWWW! OW! OW! OW! GAAA! OW!" The pain was ten times worse than my pussy -- and he was still turning it. 

"We still have a ways to go, love."

"EEEEYOWWWW! OWWWW! EEAAAGGGHHH! OWWWW! YEOWWW!"

"I've got your asshole open to about five centimeters, love. Almost there!"

The pain was just so unbearable that I couldn't take it any more and I didn't have the energy even to scream any more. 

"There," he said. "now, just one more thing.

Next I felt something warm and hard press against my wide-open asshole. He was pushing his fist inside me. Thankfully, if that's the right word, he slid the speculum out while leaving his fist up my ass. That helped ease the pain a little. Hell, it eased the pain a lot. His fist didn't feel so bad, actually. 

Then he started fucking my asshole with his fist, in and out, in and out. But he pushed it in deeper with each thrust. I could actually feel his fist pushing deeper up my intestine with each thrust. It was painful, but felt more like cramps inside me than anything else. 

"Oh man!" he said. "This feels so bizarre. I think I grabbed a lump of shit being formed."

I didn't want to know that. I don't know why, but I asked, "How deep are you in me?"

"I'm nearly up to my elbow with that last thrust, love. Feels good, eh?"

"It doesn't feel so bad after a while." I don't know why I said that either. 

"I can't go any deeper, love. Your intestine makes a ninety degree turn here."

That was a relief. I think.

Then he slowly withdrew his arm from my asshole. 

"Man, the suction inside your ass is incredible."

It took about a minute for him to slowly pull it out. It was such a relief when he finally removed his arm, his hand, and fingertips from my asshole. 

Then I felt like I had to take the biggest shit of my life. Here I was, bent over a sawhorse, with the worst cramps of my life in my intestines, that I just had to let the pressure out. But instead of shit, I let out a fart -- one of those long hot quiet ones. 

"Pee-youuu! Love! What was that?"

He then left me there in a cloud of my own fart gas while he washed his arm in a sink along that counter. 

He walked back to me and said, "I guess were finally done love."

I was never so relieved in my life, but I was a little disappointed too, though I couldn't imagine why I felt that way.

He slowly pulled the speculum out of my cunt. What a relief that was! Then he removed my nipple and clit clamps, reconnected the chain to my collar, and unshackled my wrists and ankles. But my body cramped when I tried to stand upright again. So I had to hobble, bent over. Hungry stood there watching me un-cramp and stand upright again. 

"Are you okay now, love?"

"Yeah. Does this mean I can leave now?"

"First, let me ask you."

"Ask me what?"

"Are you a woman of your word -- a woman of honor?"

"Well, yes. Of course."

"Then give me your word of honor that you won't go to the bobbies, er, police -- that our little tryst tonight will remain our private secret. Is you will, then I shall drive you back to the campus. There's a good chance that your husband will still be asleep and he won't suspect a thing."

There was no way I would have reported this to the cops. I didn't want anyone to know about this. 

"Yes, you have my word," I agreed.

"Very good, love. I'll return in a moment."

He left the room and returned a moment later with my clothes neatly washed and folded and set them on the counter. Then he removed my collar and chain and told me to get dressed. 

"Can I have some privacy while I dress?"

"After what we just did, you want privacy to dress?"

"I guess not," I shrugged. So I dressed as he stood there watching me. 

He then escorted me out that door, into a small foyer with several other doors. One door led to his garage where his car was parked. He drove me down a long dirt driveway. It was very early morning and still dark, so I didn't get a good look at his house, but the silhouette looked fairly large through the side-view mirror. 

He turned onto a main road and we drove through the desert for a couple of hours until we finally reached the campus. He let me out in the lot next to my car.

"Good night, love," he said. "See you in class next week?"

"Yeah, sure," I answered. The funny thing is that I was pretty sure I would be back in class next week.

- END -



Hungry for Her Touch



I had a rough time, when my marriage dried up and died. I tried to do divorce right, and got counseling. I spewed and cried, and then I mourned. I sorted out what I was angry about, and what I missed, and how I'd contributed to our breakup. Eventually I felt some resolution and started to look forward, tentatively.

Dating was awkward. I tried sporadically, but nothing went well. Every time, after a date or two, one or both of us would lose interest. Nothing clicked. The one time I went to bed with a woman, I couldn't get it up. I tried to think of this as a sign that we really didn't belong together. I'd learned about that in the last years of my marriage. That's probably all it meant. But still, I started to worry, and not just about my plumbing. Would I ever really be with a woman again?

Then I met Jane, and my frown began to melt. It was at a block party she'd organized. She owned a house just down the street from my apartment. We played volleyball, had a beer, and talked. Jane was animated and friendly, and easy to talk with. A few days later, she asked me out to a movie. I was attracted to Jane, and I liked her direct approach. Soon we were seeing each other several times a week. Very low-key, just coffee or tennis, that sort of thing.

Jane's interest in me really boosted my spirits. I became eager to make a good impression. When she mentioned, just in passing, that she hated mowing her lawn, I did it for her. She thanked me, but seemed a bit uncomfortable, like I'd intruded. So I didn't mow her lawn again. I didn't want to go too far, too fast, and scare her off. I do think she was touched at my effort. I wanted very much to find out what Jane would accept from me, how I could get close to her.

As I got to know Jane, she made two things clear. First, she was attracted to me. Second, she didn't know if she wanted to have sex with me, or not. She was involved in a long-distance relationship, which she told me about in great detail. He was great in bed, but really full of himself, which could be pretty annoying. Oh, and he had a big deal career, and made about five times what I did. This was an issue for Jane. She owned her own business, doing market research. I'm sure she made a good deal more than I did, too. She asked my income, and when I told her, she seemed distinctly unimpressed. As she put it, I had "lousy demographics." But that didn't keep her from flirting with me, and getting physical, in her own way. Jane liked to rub my cock, through my pants, and get me hard. She did this idly, while we talked about what movie to go to, or she told me about her latest business trip. I squirmed and got all moony, and Jane liked that, too. Once she got me hard, I didn't care what movie we went to, or that she was fucking another guy, or even that she could be such a jerk.

The petting was all one-way. Once, I put my hand on her leg, just her leg, for crying out loud. She immediately removed it, backing me off with an intense look. I didn't do it again.

Jane liked to get me bare, too. She would run her fingertips, or just her long nails, lightly over my shaft. She got me harder, with less effort, than any other woman, ever. She'd give my swollen cockhead a little squeeze, coo appreciatively, then go back to telling me about how she'd charmed some client, or about her remodeling project. I didn't have much to say, but I tried to be a good listener.

I loved Jane's attention to my cock. She told me it was large, and that she really liked my erection. And I was glad to have erections again, so easily. I became a real slut for Jane, always quick to whip it out, or drop my pants, or strip, whatever she wanted. When she patted the cushion, I sat beside her on the couch. When she pushed gently on my inner thigh, I spread wide for her. When she held her hand out, palm up, and gave me a mischievous look, I stood in front of her, and placed my genitals in her hand. Jane teased me about how easy I was. I didn't care. She was having fun, and I was glad for that. I just gave her puppy eyes, and presented myself to her, swelling even before she touched me. Eventually, I got an erection just from being with her.

Sometimes we kissed while she played with me. Jane let me know that how a man kissed was very important to her. So I really threw myself into it, in an effort to please her, and persuade her to have sex with me. Jane enjoyed my attentions. During one hot make-out session, she told me I was a good kisser. Pulse racing, I pressed forward. I pulled Jane's blouse out from her skirt, reached around, and undid her bra. Jane pulled back, and gave me a cold, distant look. Even before she spoke, I realized I'd crossed a line. All Jane said was, "Don't do that again." Then she stood up, fixed her clothes, and walked out, looking ready for her next business meeting. She left me naked and erect. And forlorn.

Sometimes I got frustrated, even angry, with Jane. But she didn't want to hear about it, and withdrew. So I learned to let it go. Being teased was a whole lot better than being ignored. Jane was magic for me, and I needed her.

Jane never got me off. Sometimes she'd toy with me when I went to pick her up, then have me put it away, so we could go out. Or she'd invite me in after a date, for a glass of wine. We'd sit on her couch and talk, while she had her way with me. I was obviously ready for the sex that might have followed, in a more conventional relationship. But when Jane decided it was bedtime, she sent me home. 

Once, after an extended tease at my apartment, Jane kissed me goodnight, ever so lightly, on the tip of my cock. Then she touched my cheek, gave me a sweet smile, and left. I listened to her go down the stairs. When I heard her leave my building, I crept out to my porch and knelt by the window. I watched Jane walk down the sidewalk toward her house. I could see her buttocks flexing with every step. Back and forth, full and firm, just for me. Then I saw her nude, in my bed, raising her ass to me. I felt her sex, all wet. I rubbed the tip of my cock along her slit. She spread her legs wider and pushed back at me, trying to take me in. I placed my cock along her pussy, and let her feel my heat. 

I pushed just slightly, gliding easily towards her clit. Jane started to whimper. I repositioned and let her have it, full depth in a single stroke. I fucked her slowly, pulling her hips, then pushing her away. I teased her with my cock, going slow and shallow, then hard and deep, over and over. I pulled out suddenly, and Jane gasped. I played with her breasts and pinched her nipples, and she begged me to fuck her again. I fingered her clit while I pressed my thumb against her asshole. She moaned and begged incoherently, and I pressed harder. I let go and made her wait, panting. Then I plunged back in, and built a steady rhythm. Soon Jane was vocalizing in time with my thrusts. Wordless, primitive sounds, from a time before demographics. I pumped faster, and her grunts turned to shrieks. When I felt my orgasm start I stopped bucking, and pulled her tight against me. Jane screamed as I came. 

I watched my cum spurt to the porch wall and the floor, and on my hand. I slumped to the floor, dizzy. I thought of Jane, home by now, and wondered if her fingers were wet.

Day by day, I built a fantasy sex life with Jane. She was always available and eager. We screwed with abandon, and sucked and groped our way to countless orgasms. It was wild and unbridled, and never enough.

On the surface, our relationship more resembled a slow, tepid courtship. We didn't go dancing or out to fancy restaurants, or buy each other gifts. We talked a lot. Although Jane kept me at arm's length, she was quite open with her thoughts. She let me know she thought a lot about having sex with me, and that she was sure I'd be good in bed. I had such a nice penis (squeeze), and was so devoted. She was definitely tempted. But she had doubts, too. I just didn't seem right for her long-term, and she didn't know if she wanted a fling. Jane told me that sometimes she felt bad about how our relationship was, well, one-sided. 

"Do you mind?" I insisted I was happy just to be with her. 

"Oh? Does that mean you don't want to have sex with me?" This while she stroked me to the brink. She was playing with my mind, what was left of it. I struggled to think, let alone speak. Before I could come, Jane released her grip.

"Well?" she insisted.

"Uh, no, I do, want to, have sex, with you." I thrust my hips obscenely, chasing after her hand, but she kept out of reach. I imagined what we must look like--me the picture of lust, while she sat rather primly. I wondered if I'd gone too far. "If you want to, that is." 

"Really, only if I want to?" She laughed. "I don't believe you!" I blushed. Jane changed the subject, and I sat back down. My cock slowly bobbed down, untouched.

Sometimes Jane told me about her lover. I heard how they'd spent the entire weekend in bed, and fucked in six different positions. I heard that he'd sucked her toes, and that it was wonderful. "Have you ever had your toes sucked?"

"No."

"Oooh, too bad. You should try it sometime. It's heaven." This while she pressed her bare foot into my cock, and gripped at me with her toes, and smiled. 

"Do you mind hearing about him?" She brought her other foot up to my balls. I watched Jane's legs flex as she worked on me. She moved slowly, with great control. She had magic in her toes, too.

"Not while you're touching me." She laughed, then turned serious. 

"Do you want to keep seeing me, even if I can't make up my mind about having sex with you?"

I pushed back at her feet. "Yes, I do." I tried to position her legs so I could see up her shorts. "I want to see you, Jane." I caught a glimpse of panty, and stared. "Very much." I wanted to see Jane in just her panties. How small? Were they wet? I could get her wet, touching her there. Just a finger, or my lips...

Jane caught me peeking. She raised a finger in warning, and said, "Now pay attention. Up here." She pointed at her eyes, and I met her gaze. But my mind was still at her pussy. 

"Now, since we might have sex..." I wanted to taste her, and feel her come in my face. I wanted her to squeeze my head between her legs with all her might.

"...or might not..." I begged with my eyes.

"...how do you see our relationship developing?" Jane cupped my shaft between her arches. I fucked her feet, slowly at first. I imagined her naked, spread wide, and pulling me in, insistently, for pounding, sweaty sex.

"I'll do whatever you want, Jane." I wanted to pin her arms, and watch her writhe.

"I'll be your lover." I listened for her moans, as I thrust deeper.

"Or I'll be ..." I pumped harder, faster.

"... your husband." I saw her orgasm and mine, sperm penetrating egg. Progeny, on for generations, populating the world.

Jane's voice pierced my dream. "Those both involve sex, don't they? What if we don't ever have sex?" She arched an eyebrow, and pulled her feet away. I lurched forward, unbalanced.

"Then I'll be your slave, Jane, or your friend. Anything you want. I can be a good friend."

"Hmm, I'll have to think about that." She looked me up and down, and I realized that she was taking my sputtered offers seriously. I'd never felt more exposed. What if she wanted it all? What would this clever, grasping woman ask of me? I stood motionless, like a puppet waiting for a tug on my strings.

Jane was easy on me. "For now, would you be a good boy, and give me a foot rub?"

I dutifully oiled my hands, and then her feet. Her soles were still warm, where I'd been. I poured my desire through my hands and into her feet. I took her toes one by one, and worked them gently between my fingers. I imagined sucking on her toes, and then her clit, sending her to heaven. Jane closed her eyes and smiled.

Day and night, I couldn't stop thinking about Jane. It seemed my cock was always stirring, at least half-hard. Before I met Jane, I couldn't get it up. Now my penis had a life of its own, and hardly went down. Sometimes when I masturbated I stayed hard after coming, hard for Jane, yearning. Jane had created a monster, or turned me into one, or was one herself, I didn't know.

Late one night as I slept fitfully, Jane called. Her voice was low and urgent, like I'd never heard her before. "I'm in bed. I want you." Sure that this was it, I sprung out of bed. I threw on a few clothes, and scurried over to her house. She called me in, and into her bedroom. I stripped and got in bed with her. We kissed enthusiastically, and she placed my hand on her breast. I caressed her through her thin nightgown, and felt her nipple, already stiffening. I kissed my way down her neck, and to her breast. I pulled her nightgown aside, and kissed and licked one nipple, while I rolled the other between my fingers. Jane ran her fingers in my hair, and called my name. And then... 

And then, Jane changed her mind. She pulled my head up, to face her. She said she wasn't sure she wanted to go through with it, after all. She apologized. For the first time, she seemed unsure of herself. I insisted it was all right, and suggested we wait a while. I just wouldn't give up. But Jane turned away from me. I lay apart from her, throbbing, and tried to calm my breathing. I decided to lie there all night, if that's what it took for Jane to get comfortable. But after a few minutes, she asked me to leave. I got out of bed and lay on the floor, exposed and available, like always. I offered to sleep there, in case she changed her mind. But Jane turned her head and waved me away, still hard.

That was the last time Jane touched me. I hung around for a while, and tried to be a friend. A few weeks later, she told me she'd broken up with her lover, and it spurred my hopes. I didn't know that we were done, didn't want to know. Long after, if she had called and asked, I would have been at her door in a minute, hungry for her touch.



Hungry For Suzy



By Hungry Guy and Suzy 

DISCLAIMER: This is a work of fiction between two authors collaborating together. No threats are being made against anyone. 

*** KENT TENNIS CLUB *** 

During a pause in the game, the umpire took the opportunity to give a summary, "Ladies and gentlemen, we are in the third set tie-break between Miss Suzy Smith and Mrs Jane Porter. In the first set: Smith, four; Porter, six. In the second set: Smith, six; Porter, three. Final set currently being decided by tie-break, first to ten points. Score - Smith, seven; Porter, seven."

Jane brushed her red hair out of her face as the umpire read off a summary of the championship match so far. The tiebreak was level. Jane looked up into the crowd watching the final and winked at her brother, then looked across the net at Suzy waiting behind the baseline. It was Jane's turn to serve, so she tossed the ball and served. Suzy returned the ball with a strong backhand, sending Jane running back to the baseline to hit it back. Play continued back and forth for a few easy rallies. Then Jane had an opportunity to give the ball a vicious topspin drive from just inside the service line causing Suzy to miss the return and giving Jane the point. If only she wins this championship, Jane could almost feel Wimbledon in her future. 

"Seven, eight, Smith to serve," called the umpire as the crowd clapped for Jane.

Jane's confidence rose as she returned Suzy's serve with a forehand stroke that forced Suzy to run up to the service line to return the ball before it bounced a second time. Jane returned the ball again with a powerful backhand, this time sending Suzy back to the baseline again. Then Suzy smashed the ball into the corner sending Jane scrambling, only to stumble and miss. Jane cursed inwardly. So close!

"Eight all," called the umpire as the crowd clapped for Suzy.

Suzy served again, sending the ball into center court from where Jane was able to hit it deep putting Suzy's return under pressure, allowing Jane to put everything she had into her response. But Suzy had come into the net and was right there to volley the ball back into the corner forcing Jane to concede the point. 

"Eight, nine, Porter to serve. Match point," called the umpire as the crowd clapped for Suzy again. 

With the pressure on, Jane had to win this point or lose the match and the championship. Jane rubbed a crick in her neck as she stood there preparing to serve. Suzy bent forward ready to receive. It all went quiet and still. Suzy was aware of a cooling breeze lifting her short skirt exposing her white panties but she did not dare take her eyes off Jane to adjust her skirt. Jane served, sending the ball over the net--a wide outswinging ball, but Suzy was prepared and crashed it right back at her opponent. Jane was perspiring profusely in the tension of the championship match; her racket slipped a fraction of a centimetre in her hand, causing the ball to hit the edge of her racket and bounce wildly out of bounds.

"Shit!" she screamed and threw her racket down. How she hated the very sight of Suzy Smith. The attractive young upstart had ruined her chances of going to Wimbledon.

"Game, set, match and championship to Miss Suzy Smith," called the umpire.

The crowd clapped voraciously for Suzy, as Jane forced herself to approach the net and congratulate her opponent as civilly as she could. 

Jane headed into the clubhouse to freshen up before the buffet. She fumed when she glanced over to see a pair of reporters from The Canterbury Times and The Kentish Gazette interviewing Suzy and taking her photo. 

Freshened after a quick shower and change of clothes, Jane stepped into the small serving room where the club was holding a buffet for the players and the press. She took a glass of Bordeaux from the wine bar and began to mingle when Suzy approached her.  

Simmering inwardly, Jane smiled a false smile. "Congratulations, Suzy."

"Thank you, Jane. You played well, too. I was worried there for a while. It was a close match all the way through." 

"I'm sure you'll be headed toward Wimbledon before long," spat Jane.

"I don't know," said Suzy. "My job with Mega World Bank takes too much of my schedule. As it is, I'm travelling to the States next month to oversee a project with Lotsatech."

How interesting! thought Jane. "Really? I love the States!"

"I'll be staying in New York for a week," said Suzy. "I'm looking forward to it."

"Oh! New York is so much fun! The nightlife is incredible!"

"I won't have much time for nightlife," said Suzy.

Just then, anther woman approached Jane and Suzy. "Hi Katie," said Suzy. To Jane, Suzy said, "This is my friend, Katie." 

Jane nodded. "Katie, right. Didn't Suzy beat you six-two, six-two in the semi?" 

Katie sipped her wine and giggled. "Yes, Suzy's game has much improved lately. I'm so happy for her."

"You deserved to win that match," said Jane. "It didn't bother you to lose to Suzy?"

"Of course not," giggled Katie, who took another sip of wine. "Suzy's my best friend!" Turning to Suzy, Katie said, "And you must make room for nightlife, Suzy. How often do you get to go to New York?" 

Suzy glanced oddly at her friend. "How many of those have you had?"

"Only three," said Katie as she failed to suppress another giggle. 

"You must see Times Square," said Jane. "It's almost as gaudy as Piccadilly Circus." 

"You've been there?" asked Katie as she spilled a trickle of wine with a sip.

"Why, yes," said Jane. "Several times. Americans are such boors, but the city is wonderful at night..."

"You shouldn't say that," said Katie. "I know several Americans. Lovely people. Their informality is refreshing, actually."

Suzy seemed to take a step back at the controversy, but Jane continued, ignoring Katie's chiding, "And Suzy, their Subway is such a convenient way to get around 24 hours, day and night."

"If I have time," said Suzy. 

"Why don't the two of you exchange emails?" said Katie. "You could be Suzy's remote tour director."

This is too good to be true! thought Jane. "Of course, Suzy!" Jane reached into her purse and removed a card, jotted her email on it, and handed it to Suzy. "Feel free to contact me with any questions. You really should head up to Harlem some evening and just walk around the quaint old brownstone neighborhoods, especially late at night."

Just then, a reporter from the Kent Messenger approached. "Pardon ladies, but may I have a word with the champion?"

"Of course," answered Suzy. "Pardon me," she said to Jane and Katie as she stepped away with the reporter.

Jane smiled at Katie, "So, Suzy travels on business often?"

"Right," said Katie. "I'd love to have her job. She's been to Rome and Frankfurt. She often takes the train into Paris for the day. And now, she's going to New York. I'm so jealous. If she wasn't my best friend," giggled Katie.

"So you must know a lot about her," said Jane.

"I suppose I do," said Katie as she took the last sip from her glass of wine.

Jane pointed to the empty glass in Katie's hand. "Come. It looks like you could use a refill on that."

"Right," giggled Katie as the two women headed over to the wine bar.

*** NEW YORK *** 

Guy missed the 5:10 train home from work Wednesday night, and the 5:30 train was, of course, late. And the air conditioning in Penn Station was broken again! But at least the train was pleasantly cool after it left the station and proceeded north under the streets of Manhattan, and came out into daylight below the Cloisters. 

Arriving home a half-hour later, his own air conditioner was buzzing its fight against the summer heat. He tossed his briefcase down and ripped the tie from around his neck. A quick shower and a sandwich later, and Hungry Guy was in shorts and online working on his latest kinky sex story.

It didn't take long for Outlook to nag him about new email. Nothing out of the ordinary appeared in his inbox but for the usual assortment of long lost relatives in Nigeria needing help to smuggle their vast fortunes into America.

Of course, it wasn't unusual for women to write to him, ask about his sexy stories, and tell him about their kinky fantasies. So he read the next email without thinking anything odd about it. 

> From: Jane Porter
> To: Hungry Guy
>
> My good friend Suzy and I love your 
> stories about using women as sex toys. 
> 
> Suzy will be in New York on business in 
> a couple of weeks. If you're willing, 
> she wants you to fulfil her fantasy. 
> 
> She asked me to contact you initially 
> to make the fantasy seem real to her 
> when you proposition her. She wants 
> you to "blackmail" her into meeting you 
> for kinky sex. 
>
> When you contact her, the threat must 
> seem for real, or the fantasy won't 
> work for her. Please don't let on that
> it's role-play, or that will spoil
> the fantasy. She won the Canterbury 
> Tennis Championship last week, so tell 
> her you saw her on BBC and that you 
> have a thing for tennis players. 
> 
> All you have to do is threaten to 
> send this nude photo of her to her 
> husband Andrew, and her bosses at 
> Mega World Bank and their clients at 
> Lotsatech, and maybe some Kent 
> newspapers if she doesn't "agree." 
>
> Her contact information, photos, 
> and assorted private details about   
> her are attached. 
>
> Hope to hear back from you soon!
>
> Jane

Guy laughed inwardly--this wouldn't be the first time a woman wrote to him and asked to meet him to play out some kinky fantasy. What these women won't think of! Guy opened the attachments and read about Suzy, her place of employment, her racket club, her email and phone numbers, her home address, and several photos including one nude of her standing in a pool.

> From: Hungry Guy
> To: Jane Porter
>
> Sure, I'll help your friend play 
> out her fantasy. I'll contact 
> her next.
>
> Guy

Guy then drafted the following email to Suzy.

> From: Hungry Guy
> To: Suzy Smith
>
> I'm sure this email will come as a 
> surprise, for we have not met before. 
> But I saw you on BBC America last week. 
> 
> Congratulations on winning the tennis 

> championship at Canterbury! 
>
> I find you attractive, and I would 
> like to meet you and fill your holes. 
> 
> Take a look at the photo I've attached.
>
> Do you recognize it?   > 
> You should! It's you. Considering 
> that you're naked, there's little
> left to the imagination.

Suzy's reply came the next day.

> From: Suzy Smith 
> To: Hungry Guy
> 
> How dare you! How did you get that 
> information about me? How did you 
> get that photo? Do you really think 
> I'll agree to meet a complete 
> stranger for sex because you're in
> possession of a photo?

Guy didn't expect an easy conquest. He had prepared a little more persuasion. 

 > From: Hungry Guy
> To: Suzy Smith
>
> I bet your manager at Mega World Bank
> would like to see you naked. Or your 
> clients at Lotsatech. I'll bet your 
> tennis coach and fellow club members 
> would love to see you sans clothing. 
> And what would all the scandal sheets
> in London do with a nude photo of an 
> up-and-coming tennis champion? 

Not surprisingly, Suzy's reply came the next day.  

> From: Suzy Smith 
> To: Hungry Guy
> 
> Would you really do such a thing? 
> I can't believe you would threaten
> anyone in such a way.

Of course, Guy had additional persuasion ready.

> From: Hungry Guy
> To: Suzy Smith
>
> Not only will the resulting scandal
> be personally humiliating, but I   
> imagine that it wouldn't be very
> advantageous to your professional 
> or tennis careers either.
>
> Of course, all that bother can be 
> avoided. Just meet me when you're
> in New York next month and let me 
> have my way with you for an afternoon.
>
> So what's it to be - either just one 
> unpleasant afternoon or an unpleasant 
> rest of you life!

Guy shouted "Yes!" to himself when he received the next email from Suzy.

> From: Suzy Smith 
> To: Hungry Guy
> 
> Very well, I guess I have no choice, 
> you pig! I'll meet you provided you 
> agree not to damage me or draw blood. 



Guy replied immediately.

> From: Hungry Guy
> To: Suzy Smith
>
> Yes, I agree to that. But beyond that, I
> make no promises. And expect a spanking!

Suzy's reply came again.

> From: Suzy Smith 
> To: Hungry Guy
> 
> Right. I'll be busy most of my time in New
> York. I don't know when I'll be able to make
> time to meet you. 

Guy replied again.

> From: Hungry Guy
> To: Suzy Smith
>
> That's on you to set aside an afternoon 
> or evening. If you don't, then...

A few more emails settled the details. As agreed, Suzy called Guy from her hotel room when she arrived to give him her room number, and they confirmed their meeting time.

Before leaving, he popped a Cialis -- he would need the extra "help" in order to fill all of her holes in a single afternoon. Then he donned a pair of black slacks and a black muscle shirt, and caught a bus downtown.

Guy found the room easily enough. He knocked, and after a moment, a posh-looking woman opened the door wearing a jacket and skirt combination suit in light grey with fine pink pinstripes--clearly very expensive. The skirt finished invitingly a couple of inches above her knees. 

"Suzy?" he said.

"Yes," she said coolly in a British accent. "Guy?" 

"The same," he said.

"All right," she said and stood aside. "Come in."

Guy walked in and faced her. 

Suzy followed him in and stood in the corner, looking terribly frightened. She flinched when he stepped up to her and touched her gently on the shoulder.

"Mmmmmm," he hummed. "Fresh meat."

Suzy flinched as a tear rolled down her cheek. 

Guy chuckled and brushed the tear off with his fingertip. Then he wiped a drop of drool from his mouth as he leered at her, anticipating the fun that was in store for him.

"I can't believe I've been trapped in this situation," she scowled. And then she collapsed backward. 

He caught her before she hit the floor, and steadied her back onto her feet. She was playing the part of unwilling victim very convincingly.

Suzy closed her eyes for a moment, then met his as she sighed. That moment, he saw the resignation and capitulation in her eyes as she slumped into his grip, and so proceeded to draw his fingers down her back and around her waist and across her torso. But she pulled away when he cupped one of her breasts. 

"Suzy," he said. "Don't resist. You know you have to do this." 

"Hmmph," grunted Suzy.

Guy continued examining her body, running his fingertip down her spine and around to her belly. 

Guy paused and took a step back. "You know?" he said. "You're way too up-tight! You need to loosen up."

"How do you expect me to do that?" she said.

"I'll take care of that," he said and sat took her hand and backed up to the bed. Sitting, he pulled her down and across his lap, then slapped her butt.

"Ach," she gasped. "That stings."

"This is for all your restrictive limits," he scolded her.

He counted about 20 spanks before he paused. 

"Are you done?" she asked in a teary voice.

"Hardly. I do love a woman in a skirt--nice easy access--which is why you wear them, isn't it?" he said as he flipped her skirt up, revealing tiny white satiny knickers. 

He resumed spanking her, getting a louder "smack" against her butt cheeks through her knickers than through her skirt. 

"Ow!" she screamed. "That hurts!"

Ignoring her, he resumed her spanking, counting another 30 spanks before pausing. 

"Now are you done now? My bottom really hurts from that."

"Not yet," he said. 

With both hands, he pulled her knickers down to her knees revealing her bare tush. 

"Please! No more," she begged.

Guy smiled and resumed the spanking.

"Ow! Ow! Ow!" she cried with each slap.

Guy counted to 50 this time, for a grand total of 100 spanks. 

By then, his hand was sore, but his cock was poking her in the belly demanding some fun of its own.

"What are you going to do to me now?" asked Suzy with a hint of terror in her voice.

"This," said Guy and rolled her over onto her chest and sat on her back.

"Ow!" she screamed. "You're crushing me!"

"Shut up!" he yelled back as he pulled her knickers completely off and tossed them aside. Then he turned around and pulled her jacket off, then her shirt, and finally, her bra, rendering her completely naked. 

"Please, before you go any further. I have some condoms under my pillow. I'm not on the pill. My husband always uses one," Suzy begged, extracting the packet.  

"Of course, Suzy," he told her. At that, he reached into his bag and removed a large black butt-plug. 

"What's that?" gasped Suzy.

Guy chuckled, unrolled a rubber onto the butt plug, and then smeared some medical lube on it. 

Suzy screamed as Guy put the rounded point of the butt plug to her sphincter, and rammed it in. He then rolled her onto her back and climbed on top of her, kissing her. Suzy moaned as he squeezed her nipples tightly. 

As he squeezed tighter, she cried out, "Ow! That hurts!"

"I'll make it better," he whispered and crawled down and began sucking on one of her nipples. A minute or so later, he switched to the other nipple. Then after thoroughly hardening both of her nipples, he slowly licked down her torso. He paused at her navel, teasing it with his tongue, before crawling lower, lower, lower. 

"And that thing in my bum--it makes me feel like I have to use the loo."

"The what?" asked Guy, twisting his mouth.

"The toilet, or the bathroom, or whatever you Americans say!"

Guy laughed and then muzzled her crotch for a moment before plunging his face into her twat. Spreading her pussy lips, he slowly licked up and down, stopping to tongue-fuck her vagina for a while, then back up to her clit.

He sucked the tiny nub into his mouth and proceeded to suck it in and out in a steady rhythm as well as he sucked down her juices. 

With disgust, Suzy felt her body beginning to respond. Please God, no, she thought. It was bad enough having to submit to his rape, but to give him the satisfaction of making her cum would be truly appalling.

He felt Suzy quivering at his onslaught. "Oh Stop! Don't make me orgasm! Please!"

Ignoring her plea, he lay there with his head between her thighs, playing her like a trumpet, drawing her clit deeper into his mouth with every breath, keeping the rhythm steady and strong, drawing "Ohs" and "Ahs" with this lips and tongue. 

In a burst of motion, Suzy grabbed him by the hair and pulled his face deeper into her twat, and crushed his skull between her thighs, as her body shook violently in synchronicity to his sucking of her clit.

Guy continued sucking and sucking until she released her fierce grip on his head. He crawled up her body as she lay there panting and deeply ashamed.

"Ugh!" she gasped as he settled on her once again.

"You liked that?" asked Guy.

"What? Of course not!" she gasped. "You're disgusting. That was just my body responding, not me! I still realize I'm being raped, you know."

"Right, now to complete your fucking!" said Guy.

"No. No! Not yet. The condom! For God's sake put it on first," shrieked Suzy. "I told you I'm not on the pill. It's my fertile time of month and I don't want to catch any filthy diseases off you either. You agreed."




Hungry For Suzy



Guy laughed as he pinned her firmly to the bed. "Sorry, but I changed my mind. I hate rubbers! Besides, I'm taking a risk too, you know? My tongue's already been inside your twat. But, hey! Ya' gotta take some risks to get the most out of life, right? You're an athlete; you understand risk. Like that luge team in the Olympics earlier this year."

Suzy merely grunted. 

"Oh! And I want to be the first to flood your posh English pussy with my cum--your poor husband, having to use them. Wow! The idea of my sperm being the first to penetrate your cervix and fertilize your unprotected womb is a Hungry Guy's dream come true. And Jane would be very pleased too if I knocked you up. That would put pay to your Wimbledon chances. You would have to withdraw and she would have to take your place." 

"What? Jane? Porter? What? How? You pig! You planned this with her?" screamed Suzy, struggling ineffectively as he arched his back and slid his eager cock into her soaking pussy to join the butt plug up her ass. 

"She said it was your idea," said Guy.

"No it wasn't! The cow has set me up. This is just revenge for my beating her at tennis. She's tricked you too. I really don't want this. You can stop now--please," begged Suzy.

"Really. Well, even better. So you really are having to submit totally against your will. And is the condom story true as well? I thought you were just saying that for effect.

"No--it's true, honestly. You will make me pregnant. Take it out. Please stop now, now you know the truth," she sobbed.

"Sorry. I'm not stopping now. I really will be the first to deposit my sperm in you--wow! I thought I was just being used by you to get an anonymous fuck while over here on business. I was quite happy to oblige. But this is so much better. You'd better believe I will for real send out all those e-mails if you don't cooperate. I am going to fuck you thoroughly and comprehensively, my sweet English rose," Guy replied unsympathetically, his eyes bright with lust.

Guy felt his cock swell even harder with this new information. 

"Oh, no!" cried Suzy as tears welled up and dribbled down her face while Guy began pumping her, slowly at first, then faster and harder. "Please stop! Don't!"

He felt his orgasm build slowly as Suzy lay there crying under his bucking body. She felt it too and a cold shaft of fear and loathing went through her knowing that she was now powerless to prevent him sending his vile juices deep into her and impregnating her. With these thoughts in his mind too, it didn't take long for his orgasm to well up and explode deep inside her, filling her most private orifice with his seed in wave after wave of ecstasy. 

Thus spent, he fell upon her gasping in the afterglow with his softening member still gripped gently by her rubbery pussy lips.

"Must you?" she sobbed, the sound of a broken woman. 

"Must I what?" he asked back.

"Lay upon me, as lovers."

"Yes, I must," he said. "Laying upon a woman with my member still inside her after an orgasm is quite comfortable and we need to allow a bit of time for my sperm to get to work for my friend Jane, don't we?" With that, he resumed kissing her, and gently fondling her nipples. 

"Oh, you pig," she moaned. "They're tender!"

"Oh yeah?" he asked, and slapped her breast.

"Ach!" she screamed. "That's not how you treat a lady you just made love with!"

"Made love?" he asked. "And I thought I raping you. Admit it--you loved it. The first true fucking of your life, eh?" 

"You're disgusting," she said.

"You think that was disgusting? Guess what I'm going to do to you next?"

"I don't want to think about it," she said as Guy rolled her onto her back and knelt down straddling her head between his thighs and lowered himself upon her.

"Hey!" she screamed as he pinched her jaw open and rammed his hard cock into her mouth. Suzy began bucking furiously as he pressed his crotch tightly to her lips, forcing his rigid member down her throat. 

Guy was sure that she must have pleasured her husband with her mouth, of course, but he could just tell that no one had ever used her mouth like this--ever--and never forced it into her throat, using her body as nothing more than a sex toy without regard to her comfort. 

Suzy gagged and panicked kicking wildly and flailing her arms until Guy grabbed her wrists and held tightly. At that, he began pumping her face in a steady rhythm. 

Pinned under the weight of his body resting upon hers, Suzy could barely move her head as Guy continued to fuck her throat with brutal abandon. 

Suzy continued to kick and flail her legs to no effect as his second orgasm slowly welled up in his loins. Her gag reflex only magnified his pleasure as he felt his climax approaching. 

Suzy kicked and struggled furiously as Guy pounded her throat. For a moment, she wrested one of her arms free and started punching Guy in the kidney. 

This girl's damn strong! thought Guy. But Guy was equally strong and had the advantage of leverage. He grabbed her wrist again and continued humping her mouth. Having come just a little while earlier, his second orgasm took a while to build up, as Suzy suffered his assault inside her throat. 

Suzy's struggling became subdued as she started to suffocate from lack of oxygen. Guy felt this and the thought of nearly fucking the life out of her immediately caused his orgasm to finally well up. In one powerful thrust, he pressed his crotch to her lips under the full weight of his torso and began injecting wave upon wave of pleasure directly into Suzy's throat.

His orgasm continued on and on, and then gradually waned as his ejaculations came farther and farther apart, until he was drained and had no more spunk to feed to her. 

Feeling drained, he pulled himself out of her and fell back onto the bed with a satisfied sigh. Suzy, on the other hand, gasping for air, began a steady fit of sputtering and coughing that lasted a minute or two trying to spit out the vile tasting residue of his semen from her mouth.

"Did you like that?" asked Guy.

After finally catching her breath, Suzy glared at him. "No! That was disgusting! You actually enjoy treating women like that?" she spat. 

"Yes," he said. 

"Right," she said. "Is that it? You've had your fun and Jane has had her revenge. Leave me now! Get out!"

"Hardly," he said.

"What more are you planning to do to me?" 

Guy just grinned and walked over to his small knapsack. Zipping it open, he lifted out a tangle of leather belts connected by steel rings and buckles. 

"What the bloody hell?" she gasped.

"Suzy!" said Guy. "What language!"

"Sorry, but what is that?" she asked, fearfully.

"It's a cum sponge harness."

"A what?" 

"I made it myself," he said.

"Pervert!"

"Yes. Now come here."

"No!" she said.

"You must. Think of the photos I've got of you and where they could be going."

Suzy slumped, realizing that he had her, and slowly walked over and allowed herself to be pushed down into a kneeling position before him.

Guy draped it over her head and pulled it down like a helmet made out of straps with additional belts hanging lose from a ring dangling below her mouth. 

"What are you doing to me?" she asked, as tears started flowing down her face.

"I'm not going to hurt you or anything," he said as he tightened various buckles on the back of her head and under her chin. As he did so, the ring hanging below her mouth was pulled up and pressed tightly against her mouth.

"Not too tight, is it?" he asked.

"Do you really care?" she spat.

"Not really," he shrugged and lifted up the leather straps still hanging loose from that ring against her mouth.

He then stepped into those straps and pulled them up, as if pulling up a pair of trousers. 

"Open your mouth, Suzy," he said as he slid his cock through that ring pressed against her mouth. She had no choice but to obey as he pulled her hair to break down her momentary resistance.

He then tightened a few buckles, pulling the harness snug against his hips, and pulling that same ring tight against his crotch, thus pulling her face tightly against his crotch and forcing his semi-limp cock deep into her mouth.

Thus connected, he stepped backward, pulling Suzy's face along with him, and sat in one of the chairs by the window of her hotel room. He glanced out at the street below, watching the crowds going about their business. 

Leaning back in the chair, he lifted his legs and wrapped them around Suzy's head and draped them over her shoulders and rested them on her back.

Suzy glanced up at him with pleading eyes as her gag reflex suddenly took over, forcing her to pull and buck against him, but the harness held her face tightly against his crotch. 

"Oh man! That feels good!" he moaned as he felt her throat and tongue squeezing and massaging his cock.

"I wonder what's on TV right now," he mused as he reached for the remote on the small oval lamp table next to the chair.

The TV came on to a news broadcast, which he watched for a while--nothing particularly newsworthy, just the usual political scandals. Obama and Brown met and made up for the gaffe from Obama's first week in office. In sports, the Yankees are ahead of the Mets in the latest Subway Series. An up-and-coming British tennis player, Adrian somebody, won a championship in Canterbury. 

Something seemed to agitate Suzy at hearing that. "What's with Canterbury and tennis?" asked Guy. "Don't you Brits play tennis anywhere else?"

But Suzy merely moaned, giving Guy a tingling feeling in his cock down her throat. 

Guy decided to look for more interesting fare, so he switched channels until he found a Firefly marathon on the Sci-Fi channel. Mal and Zoe were planning a train heist, while Jayne and Kaylee were converging with them on board Serenity. The doctor was as clueless as ever, trying to keep his insane sister out of the way.

Halfway through the hour-long episode, Suzy's constant involuntary stroking of his cock started the build up of yet another orgasm. 

"Oh wow!" moaned Guy. "Keep doing that!"

Suzy, of course, had no choice but to keep doing that as her involuntary gag reflex continuously squeezed and massaged his cock without pause.

"Oh yes! Oh yes!" he moaned as he felt a third orgasm build up in his loins.

Suzy began slapping his belly with her palms as his orgasm approached the trigger point. 

He grabbed her wrists just as his orgasm exploded in her throat. Once again, his body went into auto-pilot, pumping wave after wave of spunk into her throat as he sat there twitching and moaning, barely even aware of his grasp of her wrists. Suzy's eyes were wide open in horror as her insides being inundated again by spurt after spurt of his foul secretions. 

Finally spent, he looked down to see Suzy resting her head against his inner thigh in a sort of daze. "You okay Suzy?" he asked.

She looked up at him groggily and moaned as he felt his cock softening in her mouth.

He lay back in satisfaction, let out a sigh, and finished watching the remainder of the episode in the joy of two powerful orgasms in a single day. "Wow!" he gasped. "Three orgasms in a row! I feel like a teenager again!" 

As the credits rolled, he turned off the TV and stood. Suzy whimpered, as he unbuckled himself from the harness, and then unbuckled it from her head. 

Suzy fell onto her side, breathing and panting hard, as he tossed the harness aside and grabbed her hair and pulled her back toward the bed.

"Now what?" she cried.

He merely pushed her onto the bed, rolled her onto her back, and sat on her chest draping his legs over her shoulders, squeezing her head between his knees. 

"Ach," she gasped. "I can't breathe," she gasped.

"Good," he said. "I hope you're good at holding your breath."

Her eyes went wide with terror just then as he slid forward and sat on her face as he would a chair, letting his legs hand down the side of the bed resting his toes on the floor. His full weight bearing down on her face pressed her head down into the soft bedding.

"Lick my asshole, Suzy," he commanded. "Lick it good."

"God! No! That's disgusting!" came the muffled, choking voice beneath him. 

She began kicking and flailing her arms and legs. Guy grabbed her wrists and held on. "None of that, Suzy. I'll get off when I feel your tongue." 

At that, he felt her tongue licking his anus. He clenched and relaxed his sphincter a couple of times at the odd sensation. 

"Push it in, Suzy," he said. "Fuck my anus with your tongue."

Suzy redoubled her struggling at that command, but Guy had the advantage of leverage. Plus, forced to hold her breath, Suzy's strength was waning. "I'll get off after I feel your tongue inside me," he said.

Guy relaxed his sphincter to allow her to slide her tongue in. Then he let out a gasp -- she was doing it. He kept his sphincter relaxed as she pressed her tongue up into his anus. How odd it felt, to feel a moist warm tongue squirming up inside his rectum. 

Suzy felt sick with the foul taste of his insides and the shame and humiliation of this most disgusting of degradations. 

Her arms were feeling limp so, true to his word, he slid off her face as she let out an explosive gasp. 

His anus still feeling cool and moist, he looked down at her as she lay there panting, color slowly returning to her face. 

He grabbed her and rolled her onto her stomach. 

She turned her head back up at him. "Now," she swallowed, "What?" 

He then mounted her and lay on her back and began kissing the back of her neck. From there, he crawled lower and lower.

To her short term relief, he finally pulled that butt plug out of her, and slid his tongue to the top of her butt crack and licked, lower and deeper and he continued to crawl backward until he finally, slid his face down until he licked over her asshole.

"Ahh!" she gasped as he licked over the leathery sphincter and, finally, pushed his tongue through. 

Guy got her anus thoroughly wetted with his saliva and, for added benefit, squirted some more lube on her and all along his member, whereupon he climbed up on her and lay upon her.

"What are you doing?" she asked, anxiously. 

"Why, I'm going to sodomize you, Suzy. It's filthy, it will hurt and you will hate it. I do hope Jane will appreciate the efforts that I have put in on her behalf when I tell her 

"No! Please! Not that. I will withdraw from Wimbledon, I promise. Jane can take my place. That's never been done to me before," she begged.

"All the better," Guy responded with a dirty chuckle. "A virgin hole for me to plunder and fill. Do you think I really care who goes to Wimbledon? I want your ass." 

"Gaaa!" gasped Suzy as he pressed his hard cock against her lubricated asshole. 

"Relax your sphincter," he said.

"I can't," she sobbed. 

"Oh well. Good job I had that butt plug up you for a while then," he replied unsympathetically, bearing down harder onto her until he could feel it beginning to yield slightly. 

"Ach! That hurts!" she gasped. 

"It's not even in deep yet, you wuss!" he scolded her.

Guy ignored her and thrust his hips once again, bearing down with even more force. His hard cock broke through the tight elastic resistance and entered her rectum, though not fully engulfed yet. 

The feeling was so tight! And the struggling had brought him to the verge of orgasm. 

Taking another breath, he pushed again with all his might and buried his shaft deep in her anus.

"Aaah! Owww!" she screamed. "That hurts! That hurts!"

He rammed her ass again and again as Suzy gasped and screamed in pain. She didn't sound at all posh and confident now. Although he couldn't believe he'd quite reach orgasm for the fourth time that afternoon, his rigid member pummeled her rectum again and again - that Cialis was good - until, unbelievably, he did come and spurted the last remnants of the contents of his testicles into her. 

Suzy, on the other hand, made the strangest noise, and subsequently vomited onto the bed.

"Was licking my ass and having it fucked that bad?" he asked.

"That. And the thought of your filthy semen inside me," she spat.

Guy chuckled. Her body was now thoroughly flooded with his hot seed. Finally satisfied, he pulled himself out of her, lifted himself up, took a last admiring look at her two well plundered, agape and leaking private orifices, and rolled her onto her back and then settled back down upon her.

"Ow, you pig," she gasped. "My bum is on fire! Please get off me," she said and started to cry. 

Guy planted his lips on hers, but she pushed him away, . "No! I feel so dirty!"

"Do you, now?" asked Guy. He grabbed her face and forced his lips to hers. In a moment, he had slid his tongue through her lips and was exploring the inside of her mouth. At that, Suzy pulled away violently.

"Well," he said. "That, such as it was, was our goodbye kiss."

"You're leaving?" she sobbed, relieved. 

"It's time. I have violated all your holes and left my spunk on your mouth and belly, vagina and womb, up your ass and in your rectum, and hopefully made you pregnant. Not much else left for me to do, is there? Well, apart from writing all this up and sticking it up on the internet with a copy to Jane," he said and collected his cum sponge harness, fetched his clothes, and dressed.

Suzy watched him through eyes, which she couldn't quite focus. Now she knew for the first time what the difference was between being 'made love to' and being 'fucked'. It was horrid! She had never been so humiliated in all her life. Her throat, ass and vagina all throbbed and her bottom was sore from its spanking. She couldn't wait to throw herself into the shower. 

He kissed Suzy quickly one last time, and headed for the door. Turning as he stood in the doorway, he said, "Oh! And say 'Hi!' to Jane for me--and don't forget to thank her for organizing this special treat for you."

Guy then left, closing the door behind him. 

Walking down the hallway to the lifts, Suzy flung her door open, seemingly unaware of her nudity. "Wait! Please don't tell Jane or anyone else about this! Please! I beg you!" 

Guy smiled a look of total satisfaction back at her as he contemplated some interesting chats with that Jane and reactions from his loyal readers when he wrote the encounter up. Truth was truly stranger than fiction--not that anyone would believe it was the truth--oh, except Suzy and Jane, of course. He entered the lift and the door closed with a hiss.

* END *  



Hungry For Vixen



AUTHORS NOTES: This is essentially a true story of how Vixen and I hooked up for a few hours of casual sex after she asked me to run her personal ad on my ASSTR site. Some details have been made up or exaggerated for the sake of the story, some of the awkward and clumsy things have been deleted that occur when two people who just met for the first time have sex, and the actual words between us are a little foggy as I write this, but it is based on the actual true event of a one-time meeting between an erotic writer and a self-described slut.

***

Guy had just got home from work and turned his computer on. After his usual shower, he sat and checked his email. As usual, most of it was spam, but there was a request from a woman to post her personal ad on his Kinky Personals page. 

The page started when he posted a couple of his own ads, and a few for a couple of friends. Now, he gets so many requests from males that he has to turn most of them down, otherwise he'd end up running a full-blown dating service. 

But this was a request from a woman: 

>Attractive 43. yr. old single female cum-slut wanting 
>to suck cock and then masturbate while you watch. I am 
>interested in servicing clean, kind, safe men in New York. 

He posted her ad and wrote back asking her to check it out, mentioning that he lived just north of New York. Her reply came within hours:

>Are you interested in meeting me? Although I am not into your
>particular kind of kink, we could still have fun. I have an 
>image of a photo in my mind that would be fun to add to your site.
>You wearing me on your hard cock, a close up of my face, eyes big
>and pleading, tears mixed with mascara running down my face, lips
>held fast in a permanent O around your shaft, pubic hair in my
>nostrils, just taking the photo would be fun, but could I trust
>that you wouldn't piss down my throat and that you'd unfasten me
>after the shot was taken?

She included two photos of herself, a hot slender girl in her late 30's with long beautiful dark hair, though she mentioned that she had gained a little weight since those photos were taken.

Guy agreed to abide by her limits of no piss and to unfasten her. They exchanged phone numbers and decided to meet over the upcoming Labor Day weekend. 

On the evening of their meeting, Guy had his toys out for her to see. The knock at the door came at the appointed time. Answering the door revealed a voluptuous curvy woman who vaguely resembled the photos that she sent to him. 

"Hi Vixen," said Guy. "C'mon on in."

"Hi Guy," she said as she walked into his living room. "These your toys?" she asked as she stepped up to his homemade slave box table.

"Yes," he said as he pointed out his collection of shackles, butt plugs, dental gags, vibrators, and whatnot.

"Very nice," she said. "And you're all ready with your camera, too," pointing to his camera on a tripod in the corner of the room.

"Yup! All ready," said Guy.

"So what are you waiting for?" she asked and leaned into him.

Guy stepped into Vixen and put his arms around her. In a moment, he had leaned into her, pressing his mouth to hers. They stood there swapping spit for a while. His cock grew hard in anticipating fucking this woman whom he had just met for the first time only moments before. 

Vixen broke the kiss and said, "Can I ask you something?"

"Sure," said Guy.

"Your stories brutalize women so much. Do you hate women?"

Startled, Guy hesitated, then said, "Well, I never really thought about it before." Guy paused in thought for another moment before continuing. "I guess, when I started writing these kinds of stories, I was really shy and nerdy."

"Really?" she said. "I wish I had known you then. Shy guys turn me on so much."

"Yeah? I was one of those whiners who asked why nice guys couldn't get laid. In high school, I was a total nerd, despised by bullies around the world. I started writing kinky sex stories as a substitute for the sex I was missing out on, and maybe a little out of anger and resentment toward women."

"A little?" she asked.

"I expected to get lots of hate mail from women, and geeky guys to identify with my stories, but guess what?"

"What?" she asked.

"It shocked the hell out of me when women started writing to me, begging for more and more intense stories depicting women as sex objects."

"Oh?"

"And then women started writing to me asking me to meet them for kinky sex. Not often, but every now and again."

"Only sluts do that," she said.

"You're doing it, Vixen," he said.

"Because I'm a slut," she said.

"Duh," he said and kissed her again. Then he leaned back. "Now can I ask you a question?"

"Sure," she said.

"What would you come here to have casual sex with me if you think I hate women?" 

"I'm just trying to figure it out," she said.

"Is that really why you're here? I'm just a psychology mystery to you?"

"Well," she looked away and hesitated for a moment. "Maybe." 

"And fucking me is my payment for being your subject?"

She hesitated again. "Maybe."

Guy sighed. "Well, maybe I once hated women, and I vented through my stories. But now I love women, and I continue to write these kinds of stories because it's what women want and, honestly, I am turned on by using a woman for raw sex."

"Fair enough," she said. Then she leaned back, smiling, and reached down to fondle his pants. "Can I see it now?"

Guy dropped his shorts and BVDs and kicked them away, letting his hard cock spring to attention. She fondled it for a moment, then said, "Where's your bedroom?" 

"This way," he said, leading her by the hand through his home to his private space.

"What's that?" she said, pointing to a low padded Bench placed along the foot of his bed.

"Oh, That? That's the top of an exercise bench that I mounted to a storage box." 

"Perfect height!" she said. 

"So what do you want to do first?" he asked, as his cock quivered in anticipation.

She grinned wickedly. "Can you stay hard while I do something?"

"Sure! I can stay hard as long as you need, babe!"

"Good!" Pointing to the bench, she said, "Can you lie down on that?"

Guy removed his shirt and lay on the bench. 

"Can I turn the lights off?" she asked. "I'm a little self-conscious about my body."

"Sure. You don't have to be self-conscious with me, but turn the lights out if you prefer. 

She plunged the room into darkness. Then he heard her undressing as his quivering cock stabbed the air straight up. Her shadow straddled him and sat, impaling herself on his rigid member. 

The familiar buzz of a vibrator came to life as she stuck it into her twat.

"Do you want me to do anything, Vixen?" said Guy. "Or just lie still and be a sex toy?"

"Sex toy," said Vixen curtly.

"Okay," Guy chuckled. "I can be a good sex toy."

Vixen didn't answer, but he continued to moan and squirm as her orgasm slowly built. 

"Squeeze my nipples," Vixen suddenly blurted in the midst of panting and moaning.

Guy reached up and momentarily handled her ample "D" cups before he squeezed her nipples.

"Harder," she moaned.

Guy squeezed harder.

"Harder," she gasped.

Guy squeezed harder.

"Perfect," she cried.

Guy lay there just squeezing her nipples with all his strength in his fingers as she began to bounce and scream while she continued to buzz her clit with her little vibrator. 

Guy, too, felt to be on the verge of coming. Through she hadn't been bouncing on him until just then, so his own orgasm hadn't been growing very fast.

After another few minutes, she sighed and said, "Wow!" 

"Good one?" he asked.

"Yeah," she said and stood off him.

He heard her dress in the darkness, then was dressed again when she turned the light back on.

"Now it's my turn," he said as he stood off the bench.

"What do you want to do?"

"Lie down on that," he said, pointing to the bench. 

Vixen lay on the bench, looking up at Guy.

"What are you going to do?"

"I want to fuck you in the mouth."

"Will it hurt?" asked Vixen 

"Well, yeah," said Guy sarcastically.

Vixen hesitated before answering. "Well okay." 

As she lay on the bench, Guy asked, "Can I tie you up?"

"I guess," said Vixen, sounding not very comfortable with the idea.

Guy kneeled and buckled the shackles attached to the sides of the bench to her wrists and ankles. 

Then, still naked, he straddled her face and lay on top of her. He then slid his hard hungry cock into her mouth and bore down with his hips, forcing his hard shaft down her throat until his crotch was pressed tightly to her lips. As his cock forced its way past her throat and down her esophagus, she immediately began struggling and pulling forcefully against her bonds. Had she still been naked, he would have sucked her off. 

Before releasing his pent up orgasm, he first relaxed his bladder and let his piss flow. The last woman to drink his piss was Kathy in Ohio two years ago, and he ached to feel a woman's throat muscles massage his cock as she struggled to swallow his piss. 

As his bladder slowly emptied, her swallowing stroked his cock head rhythmically, bringing him ever closer to climax.

With his bladder finally empty, and well on his way to orgasm, he began brutally pumping her face. 

By then, her body was quaking violently against her bonds, threatening to pull the heavy eyebolts out of the wood that held her shackles in place.

His orgasm slowly welled up as he pumped his cock up and down, mashing his crotch to her lips with each thrust. 

After a minute or so, his orgasm welled up and squirted out of the tip of his cock, flooding her throat with his cum in squirt after squirt. 

Finally, he lay there on her, still in a sort of afterglow from a powerful orgasm. Her own struggling had become an occasional feeble quiver.

With a satisfied sigh, he sat up on her face, letting his softening cock pop out of her mouth. 

Vixen began gagging and sputtering the moment he stood off her. He wiped his cock off with a tissue as Vixen struggled to catch her breath. 

"You going to untie me now?" she asked plaintively.

"Yeah," Said Guy with a chuckle as he kneeled and unbuckled the shackles.

Vixen sat up and rubbed her wrists, which had become visibly cut and bloody from struggling against the shackles. 

Standing, she grabbed her handbag, and rushed toward the door. 

"Going already?" he asked.

She opened the door and faced him. "You bastard! You fucking bastard!"

Then she rushed outside and slammed the door.

Guy watched as she puked her guts out on his lawn before rushing to her car and speeding off. He then sat at his computer and began writing his next story.

* END * 



Hungry for You



The door opens and I can hear your shoes hit the entryway hardwood. Just the thought of seeing you make my heart race, I'm trying to stay focused on cleaning the last few dishes. My mind, however, is following your footsteps into our room, then back into the kitchen. Your strong arms wrap around my waist, as you pull me back into you. "Hello, handsome. Dinner will be ready it about thirty minutes if you want to go sit down for a little while." I say, knowing full well that you have completely different ideas then sitting down in your chair. I can tell it from the strap-on you're pressing into me as you pull me back closer into you, in your insistent kisses on my neck. "Do you want a beer while you wait? I made..." My words trail off as I can feel your warm breath again my ear.

Your words start with a soft growl, "I want you on the table." Your hands gripping my hips, turning me to face you then pulling my hips hard into you, letting me feel yoir cock between us, to feel it pressing against me. A soft moan escapes my lips. I can't resist wanting you, seeing how much you want me right now. I step back from you, walking slowly backwards so I don't break our eye contact. Your eyes trail over my body, taking in my low cut dress and heels. My hair is pulled up off my neck and long earrings dangle. "Gadzooks, I love that you dress like this just to cook. You look so sexy for me, beautiful." Your fingertips lightly trace the neckline of my dress, from collarbone to cleavage. I keep taking little steps back, letting you guide me with your other hand on my hip. I love when you wear a suit. Your shoulders in that jacket look incredible. The tie begs me to grab it and pull you in for a kiss, but not tonight. I have something a little different in mind. I'm a bit nervous how you'll react but that's only feeding into my desire, the unknown. I feel the edge of the table hit my ass, both your hands grab my ass and pull me against you making sure I feel the hardness pressing against me before setting me down on the edge of the table. Your hands push my thighs apart, roughly. Keeping them spread with your body, your hands on other side of my head guiding me into a kiss. I return your kiss for a few moments. I pull my torso back disengaging from you. I can see the confusion in your face, I usually match your intensity inch for inch. Today, however, I have an plan. "Is something wrong?"

"Nothing, baby." I say reassuring you. I lean forward to kiss you quickly then separate from you again. "I'm on the table. Next?"

"I want you to take off your panties so I can have you." Your hands run up my thighs under my dress to the tops of my thigh high stockings "I love these. They can stay."

"I don't know," my teeth gently biting my red bottom lip. "I'm willing to entertain the notion, though."

Your hands move off my body. "Entertain the notion? Of taking off your panties? That's fine. I'll just push them out of my way." I don't think what I'm trying to play at has even entered your brain. Poor baby. Your hands start pushing my dress up over my thighs. The back of your hands trail up the inside of my thighs sending shivers up my spine. I grab your hands and set them back on the table.

"No. I meant I'm unwilling to fulfill your request at this time." I can't help but smirk at you.

"My request ... to have you? But you...," you sigh. I have never told you no before to anything. You step back from me, I can tell how disappointed and confused you are. "But you're mine." You surprise yourself more then me with that statement.

"I'm sorry, love. What was that? Did you say something?" I cross one leg over the other a subtile hint, reminding you what I denying you. There's no way I'm gonna let that statement slide. It's taken me so many little steps to open you up like this, to let you admit to yourself and me that there's a possessive, dominate side to you. I've seen death glances from the looks you shoot the men and a few woman who stare at me. I've seen the way you are constantly touching me around your friends or out in public. It all serves as a reminder that I belong to you.

Your shoulders set, your voice is much surer this time around as you respond, "You belong to me." Shivers run through my spine, but I'm trying my best not to show it. "You are mine." You step back closer to me. Hands roughly pushing apart my thighs, your fingers digging into my thighs. Your hands then grasp on my panties and tear them off my body. "This are fucking soaked. Why are you trying to deny me when you need this so much?" Your words come out a tense growl. Your hands grasp my legs pulling me fast and rough right to the edge of the table. "Take it out. Now." you spit your words out at me. I think about telling you no again but just the admittance that you know I belong to you is such a big step you deserve a reward. My hand reaches for you slowly, looking right into your eyes all the while. My hand touches your breast, my fingertips running over it lightly. "What your looking for is a bit lower." Your eyebrow raises, your lips form a cocky little smirk. My fingers trail down your abs and I unzip your pants. Grasping it in my hand, pushing the wide base back into you. "Out. Now." You're so brisk it surprises me. I free the very girthy cock from your pants. I'm quite unsure what to do now so I just look at you for a moment. My neck snaps up as your fingers pull my the hair gathered at the nape of my neck. Your face is so close to mine now. "You know it don't you? You are mine." Your voice is low and deep. A soft whimper escapes my lips. You push my dress up over my hips. I can hear it tear. You start rubbing the tip against me, letting it tease my hot wet core. My moans getting louder with every little circle that hits my clit. I could cum just like this. I just need a little more friction. My hands pull gently at your shoulders trying to draw you into me. "Yes, yes baby. Oh god," I gasp, my words faltering as waves of intense pleasure wash over me. You hold yourself back from me, stopping all contact with me. I have to catch myself before I fall off the edge of the table. "Oh please... I need you. Please baby? I need you so much. Please put it deep inside me? Give me what I need? Please baby?" It almost hurts, the needing consumes every cell of my body. I need the contact from you. I take my fingers and rub them over myself. My fingers rubbing my wet clit but the feeling is not even a portion as fulfilling as your touch. It's a cruel mockery of what I really need. Your hand reaches down and grasps my wrist pulling my hand away from my clit. My whole body shivers at the simple contact. I move closer to kiss you and you turn your head away from my lips.

"Who?" You ask me. You gain eye contact with me again. "Who? Tell me. Who do you belong to?" Your voice is so quiet but deep.

"You. Mind, soul, and body. I belong to you. I need you. Please, please I need you. I need you inside me. Only you can give me what I need. Every part of me belongs to you. Please, I need you" I beg you. I can't help it. I'd do anything at this point if you'd just take me. You move your hips and thrust it right inside of me in one smooth motion. My body tenses around the shaft, pushing me right over the edge. You start to thrust inside of me, pulling my hips into you. Your body slamming into me. My fingernails are raking into your back and down your shoulders and arms. My legs wrap around your body, pulling you harder into me. I'm trying to talk to you but my words are a stuttering mess of pieces of words spaced out by gasps and screams as you bring me to another orgasm. You step back from me again, pulling completely out of me. The emptiness is maddening. You pull my legs to pull my ass right over the edge, catching me against you. Your strength always takes me by surprise, no matter how often you let me see it. You put me down on my feet, I move to kiss you. My hands on your lapels. Your lips answer mine this time, kissing me hard and demanding. Your hands pulling me firm against it, you let the wet, heavy weight hit my thigh. Reminding me of what just happened. "Oh god love. That was amazing. You work up an appetite?" My hands move to straighten my skirt, but you grasp them both.

"I'm still hungry," you growl in my ear. Spinning me around and pushing me back over the table. My breasts pressed into the cool table, you push my skirt up so it's bunched around my waist. "Please my dinner will burn." My heart torn between desire and not wanting to let all my earlier efforts go to waste.

"I don't care. I want you." You retort.

You thrust back into me, only teasing me with about half the length. I put my hands flat on the table and push up in a effort to stand. Your hands encircle mine and trap them under my torso, trapping them there. "I'm gonna make you take every thick inch." You keep pressing your hips closer into me, sliding farther inside of me. You continue the relentless thrust, despite my writhing body. Using your body weight to keep me just where you want me. When you are as far in as I thought possible, your feet push my legs farther apart and it goes even deeper into me. I've lost track at this point how many times I've cum, you often have that effect on me. Your thrusts are making my whole body slide on the slick table. I shatter again, screaming your name. You pull out of me, hands soothingly running down my back. I feel like I'm vibrating from head to toe, as you turn me and gather me up in your arms. Kissing me softly. "You ok love?" I'm still non-verbal at this point, so I just nod and kiss you. "Good. Go get your coat and we'll go eat. I'm hungry.'



Hungry For Your Love



We are at my apartment having dinner by candlelight. You look so virile and handsome I can't keep my eyes off of you as we sip our wine. 

You pick up an oyster on a shell and suck it off and I start getting wet imagining your talented mouth and tongue doing that to me. 

I drop the strawberry I am nibbling and it falls down inside the silk low-cut blouse I am wearing. My breasts are large and the strawberry falls into my cleavage. 

You jump up and say you will get it for me. I begin to breathe very hard as your fingers brush across the swelling of my titties that show above the opening of my blouse. 

I squirm with impatience as you slowly unbutton my blouse and begin to pull it open to show my naked breasts in their satin and lace prison with the red strawberry nestled between them. My nipples begin to harden and turn nearly as red as the strawberry as my desire for you rises. 

You tease me as your fingers brush gently across my nipples causing them to harden and even tremble because every part of my body is so hungry for you. My breathing gets more and more labored as you slowly pull my bra down revealing the rubbery pink buds and you begin to squeeze each nipple. 

You kneel down in front of me and take one engorged nipple in your mouth while you squeeze and roll the other one between your thumb and finger. You start licking upwards until you reach the strawberry. With your teeth you pluck the strawberry from my cleavage and hold it in your teeth. 

You rise up and we share the fruit as you kiss me long and hard still playing with my titties. My legs open as my pussy lips swell with desire and I can feel my pussy juices beginning to flow. 

I moan and whimper trying to push my naked mound closer to you. I want to rub it against any part of you I can touch. I want you so bad inside me that I begin to plead. 

"Please, take me, fuck me, please, please," I whimper as my body succumbs to you. You laugh softly knowing I am totally in your control now. 

You lift me from my chair and push the dishes aside so you can lay me down on the table. 

You smile and say, "This is going to be the best thing I have ever tasted." 

You pick up the bottle of honey and begin dripping it on my breasts and down my belly and onto my wet cunt. You start licking it off my tits, spending time carefully sucking each nipple before licking the underside of each tit. 

Your tongue trails down licking honey as you go. You stop to scoop the honey out of my navel and tongue fuck my navel for a moment. 

"This is the cutest little honey pot I ever saw" you murmur as you lick the honey from my pussy starting at my pulsing clit down to my honey filled hole. Your tongue enters my hole and my pussy immediately clenches down on it eager to be fucked by you. 


By now I am nearly out of my mind with desire. I begin to buck trying to get my cunt closer to you. You grab my hips and force me to be still. You flip me over with my legs hanging off the table barely touching the floor. You admire the creamy globes of my butt and the bare swollen pussy peeking through my legs. 

I spread my legs and you rub your hands across my ass and watch me squirm as I continue to beg for your cock. Finally you take pity on my need for you and slowly slide into me. 

I let out a loud groan as I feel your gorgeous manhood slide all the way in and my pussy pulls you in eagerly taking all you have. I cum as soon as you stroke in and out once drenching your cock and the table in cum . 

You pull out immediately and tell me I am a naughty little girl for coming so quickly and tell me I need to lick you clean. I slide off the table hungry for your red-hot tool. 

"Oh yes, baby, let me suck you," I whisper kneeling down between your legs. I look up at you and smile as my lips stretch around your big cock barely able to hold it. But I do and I begin to slide up and down while you watch my red lips encircle your engorged cock. It taste so good with my honeycum mixed with your juices. 

I feel your manhood twitch and know you are nearly ready to come. I pump faster up and down and suck even harder as my tongue flicks back and forth across your slit and on the tender underside of your cock head. 

When you explode I pull away so your cum can flood my face and breast. You cum so much I can't even see as my hair and face and tits are drenched with your wonderful hot cream. 

I reach up and cover my hands with it and rub my whole body with your jism. It feels so slippery and tastes so good. I pull my nipples up and begin to lick your cum off them before licking off each finger of both hands. 

You are still hard and sit me on your lap impaled on that long hard dong. You face me away from you so you can watch my ass work up and down. I bounce up and down on your cock rubbing and pinching my nipples as I cum again. 

We both fall back completely wet and satiated for the moment. But we both know it won't be long before we are hungry for each other again.



Hungry Hole



Author's note: This is my Nude Day Story Contest 2015 entry. I hope you like it!

*

Anna roused herself, sitting bolt upright in the bed. 

Her heart was racing, her mouth dry. Her small, firm breasts rubbed against the sheer material of her sleep shirt, making her nipples feel all tingly and delicious. Something was wrong. She'd been waking up slowly, enjoying a vaguely sexual fantasy about the lead singer in a popular boy band she liked, and she'd let her hand wander down between her legs to hold her mound. At times like these, her pussy always felt much better if she cupped it with her palm and then tensed and released the muscles in her thighs. She was pretty sure it wasn't masturbation (which would have been a sin). But it was close. It made the blood rise to her cheeks and her breathing go shallow. And then suddenly she'd felt an overwhelming sense of dread. It consumed her. She didn't know where it came from, this sense of horror, but once it bubbled up into her mind, she felt certain she was in the midst of some terrible calamity. 

The room was quiet, except for the hum of the refrigerator in the other room. She flipped the bedspread back and swung her legs to the floor. 

The tile was cold. 

Her father had rented a small suite of rooms with a kitchenette for the three of them. Her twin brother Wiktor was making college visits. They were in a small college town somewhere in Norway. Breakfast dishes sat on the table with food half eaten. Anna touched a partially eaten pancake and found it cool. 

Something was burning. 

The little stove held an iron griddle that was so hot small wisps of white smoke curled up from its shiny black plate. The burner was on low. She turned the knob to the off position, found a mitt, and clanged the pan to a cool burner. "Papa," she whispered in Polish, her native language. 

"Papa," she said louder, her panic rising. 

It was the Rapture.

Anna knew it in her heart, she knew it in her soul. The preachers had warned that one day God would whisk away all of the righteous people, leaving behind only the unbelievers, the sinners and the wicked of heart. This had been the church's predominant message throughout her childhood and adolescence: The harsh judgment of God was on its way. Be wary. Be on guard. It's coming. 

Now it was here—and she'd been left behind! 

The crotch of her panties was damp and cold, reminding her of the dreadful things she'd been doing to herself in the bed. She shoved the panties down past her slim hips, and then raced bottomless to the open suitcases against the wall. 

"Oh, Papa," she whispered, close to tears. "Oh, Papa!"

Her last words to him had been angry. 

They'd been in a cafeteria on campus surrounded by dozens of beautiful, Norwegian students with pale skin, blonde hair, and sparkling blue eyes. Her father was making mildly suggestive jokes about the kind of experience Wiktor would have, if he were to attend this school. It shocked Anna to hear her father speak this way, but the jokes set Wiktor at ease. He sat gazing around the cafeteria hungrily, his apprehension evaporating. As Wiktor's confidence bloomed, Anna found herself growing incensed, though she could not say why. She was only eighteen and it was a given that she would attend a small Christian school for girls, tucked away in a dense snow covered woods outside of Warsaw. Her father would never in a million years make mildly suggestive jokes about the experiences she would have in the forests of Poland with the sisters, the monks, and the other penitents.

Anna found a fresh pair of panties (her last!) and groaned in dismay. They had a cute little fringe around the waist and were cut in the Brazilian style, exposing the smooth young flesh of her upper thighs all the way to her hips. Anna had lobbied her mother hard to get them, arguing that the lacey fringe made them more like bloomers than panties. It was an outright lie from the pits of hell. Anna knew it, her mother knew it. Now, as Anna tugged the panties over her shapely little bottom, she felt indicted by her willful manipulations. 

She dressed quickly, wiping warm tears from her eyes. 

Outside a thick, damp fog had descended across the town. As she picked her way across the parking lot, a dark thought popped into her mind: Her family was watching her right now, from up in heaven. 

They knew that God had judged her and found her lacking.

They knew all her dirty little thoughts. 

They knew she was a whore!

A fire truck sat with its doors wide open and red light revolving. Anna peered inside the deserted cab. A great sadness fell over her. Everything she knew was going to be different now. She would be alone, her flawed nature exposed to the world. She really was a whore. She had long suspected it and now it was borne out. God was never wrong. From here on out, everyone she met would know it, too. People would look at her shapely teenage body and ask, "Why did God leave you behind?" What could she say? They would see the sexy highlights in her long blonde hair, the fire burning in her eyes. She would just have to be honest. She would have to answer that she couldn't stop touching herself between the legs, couldn't ignore all those wicked thoughts that kept popping into her mind. More tears welled in her eyes. It wasn't so much that her family knew she was different. In some ways, it was almost a relief. It was hard to always have to pretend to be the kind of girl who could fit in. Now, at least, she wouldn't have to hide anything. The real problem was that she had no idea how to behave. 

What did the whores do? 

In a nearby garden she saw someone standing, smoking a cigarette. She felt elated to see someone, anyone. Raising her hand, Anna called out, "Hello! Hello!" 

It was a young man. He turned to her. 

Lowering her hand, Anna clutched her throat. He approached fast. He smiled, speaking in a language she couldn't understand. He looked harmless, but it occurred to her that he'd been left behind, too. He was a sinner. Everyone she met from here on out would be a sinner. He was pointing to the fire truck, saying things she didn't understand, and waving his hands in the direction of the campus. He looked in his early twenties. He was handsome, she guessed, but not handsome in the ways the musicians in the boy bands she admired were handsome. He was solidly built with a plain round face. 

Anna shivered. 

He asked her a one word question, then strode toward a nearby campus building. At the door, he turned and flexed his fingers, inviting her to follow. What could she do? Anna obeyed. It was a small break room with a sink and some chairs. He found a long-necked bottle and poured two small glasses of clear liquid. Anna stared at her drink. He drank his in one gulp. 

This is what the whores do, Anna thought. She drank hers and suddenly a warm bloom grew in her throat and chest, making her eyes go wide. She sputtered and grabbed his arm. Taking the glass from her hand, he snorted and rubbed her back.

Anna blew air from her mouth. 

He puttered around the room, leaving her to recover. He spoke to her as he retrieved things from cupboards and busied himself at the sink, though he seemed to grasp that she couldn't understand anything he said. 

"What do the whores do?" Anna asked, enjoying the way the word whore rolled off her tongue. It felt good to say it out loud, trying the dirty word on as if it were a brand new pair of shoes, or an Easter bonnet. The sinner smiled at her, lit a match, and held it to the burner. The acrid smell of sulfur and gas filled the air, and the burn in her throat faded to a dull warmth. She toyed with her hair, letting her eyes wander down to his crotch. He wore baggy pants with geometric patterns and stripes in loud colors. She searched for a telltale bulge between his legs. When she gazed up, he was looking at her and she grew embarrassed for where her eyes had been. 

Her cheeks grew hot and she had to look away.

He stepped toward her and she grew even more flustered. 

Looking cautiously back into his eyes, she saw his attention, his focus. It was a cool, calculating interest and it sent a raw pulse of fire fluttering through her chest. No boy had ever directed this sort of attention toward her. Her mouth was open and she willed herself to close it and swallow.

He touched her breast with the backs of his fingers. 

Her mouth dropped open again and she gasped, closing her eyes. His touch was like raw heat, sending tantalizing signals straight to her pussy. Suddenly she was breathing hard. He tugged open the zipper to her blouse, exposing her breasts. The cold air made her nipples stiffen into fierce little nubs. 

All her religious training from childhood screamed at her to flinch, to pull back. To cover her breasts. Only a whore would allow a boy fondle her naked tits! She forced her eyes open, determined to slow things down. 

She wanted to be the kind of girl a father could be proud of!

The sinner took one of her nipples between his thumb and forefinger, then popped it into his mouth. Anna gasped. She took his head in her hands, rubbing his short bristly hair. Squeezing her thighs together, she found her pussy sopping with desire. 

He stood, pulling her close. His erection pressed against her hip. 

Her cheeks were hot with shame, and she wanted to pull away from him, but her legs wouldn't carry her. She whimpered weakly instead, resting her head on his chest. He rubbed her bottom. She instinctively tried to straddle his thigh. He said something and his hand went to her hip, then continued moving between their bodies, toward her sodden little pussy. 

Anna drew in her breath and pushed her hips back, away from him. She lurched a few paces back. She was wet down there and didn't want him to touch it. Didn't want him to hold the proof of her slutty desires in his hand.

He looked at her. 

Her nipples were stiff little nubs. She grinned, feeling foolish. 

Taking a deep breath, she put her hands on her hips. The wrongness of what she was doing made her feel delicious. She slipped her skirt down to her ankles, and then stood before him in only her panties and an open top. She felt a perverse sense of shame for standing before him this way. It went against everything she had ever been taught growing up. 

She stared at his crotch. 

He dropped his pants. His cock was pink and stubby, surrounded by a bird's nest of blonde hair. She cupped his warm balls in her hand, blowing the air from her lungs. He put his hands on her shoulders and applied gentle, firm pressure. 

He wanted her down there.

She sank to her knees, letting her fingers trickle down his torso. She didn't know what to do. Looking up at him, she bit her lip.

He put his hand on her cheek, his cock waving in her face. 

Taking his shaft in her hands, she rubbed it on her face. It pulsed against her cheek, her lips. It left a little wet spot on her neck. She massaged the moisture into her skin. He spoke to her in a husky voice. She gave his cock a chaste little kiss, careful to avoid the wet part at the tip. His eyes were half-lidded, his lips a tight line. He seemed to be looking past her, through her. Anna asked him something, mostly to hear the reassuring sound of his voice, something more than the sighs and soft grunts he was making, but instead of answering, he pulled her to her feet.

She thought he was going to kiss her. 

She prepared herself to meet his lips, but as soon as she was upright, he turned her to the wall and bent her at the waist. She held onto the back of a chair. He put his face near her bottom and she grew anxious again about how wet she was, how close his face was to where she was leaking. His fingers slipped under the seam of her panties and Anna groaned, instinctively raising her hips to meet his touch.

She craned her neck around. 

He shot his eyes at her and smiled, but then his attention returned to her bottom and the smile quickly disappeared. He stood and rubbed his wet cock against her pussy. A chill raced through Anna, making her shoulders shudder. 

He was about to fuck her. 

This was it!

A deep sense of shame washed over her. She remembered something, a commandment from grade school about worshipping false gods. The story had amused her with its ancient accouterments. She couldn't imagine any of her friends kneeling before a golden calf, but she had just gotten down on her knees before this boy. She had kissed his warm cock, anointing herself with his sticky juice. 

"Jesus loves you," she croaked.

He gave her a skeptical expression. 

"Jesus?" he said. It was the first thing he'd said that she could actually understand. She looked at him with so much need, her breath coming in rapid little huffs. 

He laughed softly. 

"I'm no Christian," he said in broken English. 

He put his hands on her waist and with one deft move, drove his hips forward. A sharp pain between her legs made her gasp. Her hymen was gone. If he knew she was a virgin, he didn't act like it. He held her hips firmly and sent his cock inside her all the way to the balls. He was speaking again in the same tongue she couldn't understand. He laughed, seemingly delighted to have his cock inside her. He said words in a rhythm that matched the strokes of his hips. She wondered if he were calling her a whore. A slut. A dirty, filthy, little cunt.

She certainly felt like one. 

Anna turned her head back to the wall, remaining bent over. It occurred to her that her father and brother were watching her right now, seeing her get fucked. If they'd had any doubts about the wisdom of God's judgment, it hadn't taken her long to prove the righteous infallibility of the Lord. On her own for only a few minutes and already she had a cock stuffed deep in her tight little pussy. 

The sinner pulled out of her. 

Anna felt so ashamed she could barely muster the strength of will to look at him. She wondered if it were over. Was this all the whores got?

It wasn't over. 

He repositioned her, then hefted one of her legs up into his arms. Anna stood on one leg, holding onto a small fuchsia-colored refrigerator for balance. He slipped his slick cock back inside her. The benefit of this new position was her ability to see his face, to watch his cock as it slid into her tight little hole. His face was flushed red with exertion. His cock made wet noises. 

Of course, the downside of this new position was the athleticism required to stand on one leg. In grade school, she'd once stood this way through much of a Christmas play. The class had performed at the altar in front of the whole congregation, and she'd played the part of the angel Gabriel. Her leg had to be up for the entire third act to show she was flying. Because the sinner held her thigh in his burly arms, and had his cock buried deep inside her pussy, the position she was in now was a little easier than the one she held in the play. Anna just had to keep her balance while he pumped away at her hole. She cast her eyes between his red face and the hard cock spearing her pussy.

Soon he dropped her leg and sat in the chair, his raw cock bobbing in his lap. 

Turning her around, he guided her into his lap and filled her slick hole with his cock. Anna began instinctively rocking her hips. It felt good to be filled, but the awkward position was maddening. Resting her hands on her knees, she raised her hips, then used the muscles in her thighs to impale herself. The action required to fuck him reminded her of peeing in the woods. Her girl scout troop routinely went on long hikes in the woods and all the girls eventually had to drop their cotton panties, put their weight on their knees, and relieve themselves in the dense underbrush. Of course none of her little Brownie friends got to squat over a sinner's hard cock! Anna threw herself into this new position. Occasionally his cock popped out of her pussy. The first time it happened, Anna mewled with frustration, sitting hard in his lap, mashing his cock against her bottom to try to get it back where it belonged. He raised her bottom and stuffed himself back into her hole. This happened a few more times. Soon Anna simply raised her bottom and waited for him to load his fat cock back inside her. She would squat forward with her hands on her knees, using the time to recuperate, her breath coming fast and hard. 

After a bit, he turned her around on his lap to face him. 

It was a better position for Anna and she threw all her youthful energy into the fuck, rarely losing his cock. She was a tireless little girl-fuck machine, and her face and neck grew red with exertion. Sometimes she sat on his cock so hard, his dick bent sideways, making him groan. When this happened, she reached down herself and stuffed him back inside her pussy. She tried to ride him slower, with more deliberation, but it was hard to show restraint, and soon he would grimace again. 

Eventually he made her stand. 

Her pussy was so raw with need she couldn't stand straight. She hunched over, feet apart, her hands floating at her sides. He chuckled and gave her the chair to sit in. She sank onto the hard seat with her knees spread wide. 

He knelt before her, using his fingers to spread her lips. Anna rocked her bottom, groaning and holding onto the seat of the chair. 

He put his mouth on her pussy and she felt such delicious fire. She closed her thighs, trapping his head, holding it with both hands. He stuffed one finger inside her and then another. He nibbled her clit and she called out. 

"Jesus! Jesus!" she cried. 

Anna held his head and climaxed, rubbing her hungry hole against his face. 

"Fuck, fuck, fuck," she said. 

All the sexual tension drained from her body, filling her with a great warmth, a glowing satisfaction. She let go of his head and looked at him with such gratitude. He grinned at her, wiping his face with his hand. 

He stood and his cock was hard and red. 

Taking her by the ankles, he opened her legs. 

Anna watched his cock slip into her pussy. It occurred to her that he was fucking her bareback. Only a few hours ago it would have terrified her to have a boy slip his cock inside her, much less slip it into her without a condom. Now she simply watched, her head reeling from her orgasm. 

This is what the whores get, she thought. 

Seed. 

Taking the arms of the chair in his hands, he started his strokes. His hands turned white where they gripped the chair, and the muscles in his forearms tensed like iron cords. Anna watched the steely look on his face. 

From somewhere far away, Anna heard a voice calling her name.

"Anna! Anna!" 

It was her father's voice! A great joy swept over her. 

"Anna!" It was her brother. 

Both voices were getting closer. 

A chill spread through her chest, touching her soul. 

It wasn't the rapture. 

She hadn't been left behind. 

Fuck! 

The boy on top of her moved his hips with an urgent need. Anna wanted to lower her legs, but she was trapped by his arms holding onto the chair. "My father," she hissed. He looked at her with an urgent need. 

He was about to come! 

Anna scooted her hips back into the chair, but there was no escaping this young man's determined thrusts. She was a whore, and he was going to dump a load of his salted cream inside her. Anna closed her eyes. The voices of her father and brother were drawing closer. Closer. 

Closer. 

She whispered a fervent little prayer. 

Please! 

The boy stood and her legs fell to the floor. 

Oh, thank you thank you thank you!

It was a miracle!

Anna opened her eyes and sat straight in the chair, but he was right in front of her, blocking her way. And then something warm and wet splashed on her chest and boobs. Settling back into her seat, she watched cum fly from his cock. She gazed with rapt attention as his warm cum oiled her tits. It was amazing! Raising her eyes, she saw her sinner boy staring intently out the window. 




Hungry Hole



"Anna," her father shouted, his voice sharp. Irritated. 

He was right outside the door! 

The sinner put his finger to his lips. Grinning at him, Anna massaged his cum into her chest, even as he sprayed her with more.

"Anna," her brother's voice from further out. 

The sinner shook the last of the cum from his cock, then silently blew air from his mouth and dropped his shoulders. The look of bliss on his face made Anna giggle, then accidentally snort. She clasped both her hands over her mouth. Her tits were sticky, and she sat in a pool of her own juices. The room held the earthy scents of cum and sweat and female secretions. 

Her father's voice rang out again, but this time from further away.

The boy was tugging on his pants. 

He was nice, but his boyish cheeks and pink coloring gave him a slightly piggish look. He would never appear on stage before an audience of adoring fans. He wasn't even a Christian. 

Anna sighed. 

Zipping her top, she looked for her panties.

She was a little whore, but God loved her anyway.



Hungry Jocks



Patsy had been told that she could change in the school's locker room after she finished her race. This University had a much larger athletic complex than the facilities at Patsy's University and it took her a while to find her way to the locker room. 

She had run well, despite the heat. Her body was covered in sweat causing the thin material of her black singlet to cling to her wet skin. Her nipples stood noticeably erect through the tight material as made her way across the field towards the locker room. Patsy bashfully tried to cover the hard, small nipples only to brush them and arouse her even more. 

The locker room smelled of sweat and soap. Patsy felt a chill as she entered the empty locker room and goosebumps crawled over her smooth wet skin. 

She found where she had left her athletic bag and pulled her singlet and sports bra off over her head. Her plump wet breasts bounced out of the tight black cloth.

A footstep broke the silence and Patsy froze.

She crossed her arms over her supple breasts and called out "hello? anyone there?"

She backed herself warily into the showers and scanned the many aisles of lockers for the owner of the noise.

A large firm arm cross over from behind her and secured her small hips in it's grasp. Patsy was pressed against a warm but firm torso of an unknown male figure.

"Oh! let go!" Seren cried out in dismay. The large arms held her firmly in their grasp, and she squirmed slightly. She knew she need to break free, but the large warm hands enticed her, and her nipples grew hard once more.

A low smooth voice poured hot breath into Patsy's left ear. 

"Whoa there. I got ya, sweet cakes. Let's see what you have here..." She could feel the stubble on the man's chin against her forehead as he slid one large hand slowly down her flat stomach.

"Oh no. Don't" Patsy quietly pleaded. But her clit throbbed with anticipation. She knew that she shouldn't let him, but she wanted his hands to continue to brace her body against him. Shivers rippled through her as his left hand got closer to her running shorts. His right hand braced her crossed arms firmly against her chest, forcing them immobile.

"I just want to feel" He replied softly in her ear. His fingers slipped between the tight spandex shorts and her sweaty skin plummeting into her sweaty panties. His fingers gently pulled her lips apart and found her throbbing clit. He rubbed her intently and she moaned with pleasure.

"See, you need this, girl. Gotta make it nice and wet for what I'm going to put in your tight little pussy." Patsy fingers fell on his bracing arm and gripped his thick wrist as he massaged her to an epic climax.

He continued to hold her firmly as he softly pleasured her. As her adrenaline surged into an orgasm, Patsy bucked her body with ecstasy against his tight stomach and caught him off guard.

The man, stunned, losened his grip and Patsy broke into a long stride away from him. 

"Oh, sweetie, you're going to have to pay for that." She heard him growl quietly.

Suddenly Patsy felt her sneakers lose traction on the wet tile floor and they slipped out from under her sending her to the floor hard on her belly.

"Oh!" Patsy cried out in pain.

She felt the man's strong large hand press down hard at the small of Patsy's back, pinning her against the tile floor. He circled around and knelt before her. He was not small man, even on his knees, he stood tall before her. His thigh round thighs glistened with sweat. His blushing dick pulsed with anticipation before Patsy's face. 

She looked up at him with mixed feelings of fear and excitment. His large chest was framed by his broad round shoulders that stretched the tight gray football shirt across his hard pecks.

"Come on, now. Put your mouth on it, girl"

He slipped her round lips over the sweaty tip of his dick and pushed it to the back of her warm, soft throat.

He let out a moan of pleasure as he reached one head down to touch her hard nipples.

Patsy groaned with ecstasy as his other hand held her against the tile floor. He pumped his member slowly in and out of her small mouth. She tightened her lips to help him cum, as her clit continued to throb with excitement. She began to buck her hips slightly, as she became wetter. His hand responded by pressing her against the floor more firmly.

"Oh, no. Hold still. I'm not done."

She smiled slightly as he rammed his dick into her mouth against. Her saliva covered his cock and bubbled at her lips each time he pushed it into her. She let out a small satisfied groan as he continued to titillated her nipple.

"There we go. Good girl. You're sexy ass is going to make me cum so hard." He grunted in his low whisper between thrusts.

Patsy body shivered with adrenaline. She swirled her tongue around his hard cock as hit throbbed in her mouth.

"That's good.yeah. ugh" He said and her excitement pinnacled at the thought of pleasing him.

He thrust his penis in faster and deeper. She could feel the tip slapping the back of her throat . She wanted him to cum harder in her than he had ever before.

She could feel he was close, his dick was throbbing so hard, and his rhythm became more and more consistent. His grunts became shorter, and less controlled.

"Ugh, that's it. Ohh, your lips...ungh"

Faster and faster he pumped it into her mouth, her lips pressed firmly against the ridged of his cock. Her body shook with every thrust until he let out a loud strong yell and his sex exploded inside her mouth. She felt it mix together with her thick saliva and slip down her throat.

He withdrew his member from her and back away from her face.

He took her chin in his large warm hand and firmly turned her face up at him.

"Show me it." He commanded

"I don't-I mean, I-it's not there anymore." She stuttered with excitement and fear.

"oh...tsk. tsk. that's going to cost you." He smiled down at her.

She held back her smile and looked up at his great figure in awe.



Hungry Like The Wolf



There was a time when the people of my village were safe. It was a long time in the past but the old ones spoke of it. It was hard to believe there had been a time when the wolf had not ruled my people. Since I was but a child, I had heard the stories of life before the wolf had come. They were like fairy tales in my village, told and retold but rarely believed.

But, alas, the wolf had come. And the stories of life before he came became just stories, told often and told well but hard to believe for those of us who had been born after the wolf arrived. The wolf ruled the village with an iron fist and there was no way a story could change that.

I was born on the third day of the sixth month during the 20th year of the wolf's reign over our village. It was said my mother screamed out in horror when she was told I was a girl. I was her first baby and she knew what that meant. The wolf ran the village and the wolf made the rules we lived by. And one of his first rules was if the first child of a village couple was a girl child, that girl child became his property on her 18th birthday.

The wolf was not just a wolf. If he was, perhaps the village men would have risen up and struck him down. But even if they had tried, it would have been hopeless. The wolf was more of a cross between a wolf and a man but he had the strength, it seemed, of a hundred men. No one ever spoke of trying to overpower the wolf or put an end to his reign over the village. It was said to even think those thoughts would bring about your instant death.

I had known since I was old enough to walk what my fate would be. No one knew exactly what happened to the women sent to the wolf but it had been decreed long before and no one was about to stop sending the first born girl children to the wolf. 

He lived in a very large, very dark castle on the top of the hill that overlooked the village. Day and night, it was impossible to ignore it as it stood its solitary vigil over us all. I continued to live as any child would as I was not going to let the castle on the hill rob me of my entire life. So I grew up a carefree girl, filled with very little in the way of dreams for my fate had been foretold.

The day of my 18th birthday started like almost every other day of my life except this one I was awakened by the sad sound of my mother crying. I quickly got out of my bed and went to her, trying to comfort her. I put my arms tightly around her and held her close. But none of my words and none of my touches could stop her tears. She knew this was the last day she would ever see me.

He would come for me at noon. He always came for the girl at noon. And over time, a ritual had developed. If he had decried it or if it had become something to soften the loss, the taking of the girl had become somewhat of a festival. 

The women of the village arrived at our home shortly after sunrise. The morning was spent preparing me. I was bathed and perfumed and a gown that was specially made for the occasion lain out and prepared. It was cut from the finest silk, in glaringly bright white. The neckline was low, cutting across the tops of my breasts, and adorned with hand-embroidered red roses. A crown of red roses, strewn together with white silk ribbons, was made to rest on top of my head. 

My long brown curls were washed and brushed until they shined. The curls were tight and bounced prettily against my shoulders, which the dress left provocatively bare.

The dress itself was rather simple. The sleeves fell open at the wrists and the edging again was embroidered with red roses. The dress was gathered with one red silk ribbon below my breasts then the skirt fell fluidly and fully to the ground. Beautiful white silk slippers were made to fit my feet perfectly. 

A red stain was applied to my pale pink lips, making them stand out against my fair skin. My curls were artfully arranged before the crown was set upon my head. Ribbons of silk fell from it to wander and twirl about my curls. The women then led me to the village square, where I stood, alone in my beautiful gown, waiting for him.

As the village church bell rang out the twelve sorrowful tones of the hour, he came into the village. He did not show himself: no one in the village had actually laid eyes on the Wolf for as long as could be remembered. Instead, he arrived inside a coach which pulled before the platform. There was a man driving the coach but he did not speak nor look anywhere but ahead. It was said he was a mute but no one knew for sure.

A small window opened in the coach and a loud low voice was heard.

"Send the girl," was all he said. A hand touched my back but I did not need to be forced. I walked with my head high to the coach, opened the door and stepped inside.

It was very dark inside the coach and I could make nothing out of the Wolf, if it was indeed him inside. He was buried deep in a corner and wearing a cloak that fell over his eyes. Even when my eyes adjusted to the darkness, he was still an enigma.

The coach moved out of the village and began the climb up the long road that led to the Wolf's castle. Nothing more was said, either by him or by me, as we made our way to his home. When the coach came to a stop, the coachman climbed down and opened the door for me, extending his arm. The Wolf did not move. I took the coachman's arm and climbed from the coach. He led me to the door, which opened as we approached. He stopped at the doorway but indicated I should continue on inside. 

Whether the castle was magical or not, I could not tell you but somehow as soon as I stepped inside the door, I knew exactly where I was supposed to go. I walked down a very long hallway until I had passed three doors on my left. At the fourth door, I turned and entered the room.

It was a very dark and cold room with nothing to offer in the way of comfort. But in the center of the room was a tall platform. I moved towards it and stood facing it. It was as I stood there that the Wolf entered the room.

I could see him now and he was definitely a wolf. He walked on two legs but his face and body looked wolfen. He stood well over 8 feet tall, I estimated, as he crossed to me where I stood before the platform. 

"What are you?" he asked me.

I did not understand the question and opened my mouth to ask him what he meant but instead I said "I am your bitch, Master."

"And what do you wish of me?" he asked.

Again, I did not understand and wished to ask for clarification but when I opened my mouth, I said "To be mounted by you, Master."

He did not seem at all surprised by my answers and responded "So be it" as he lifted me quite easily and set me on the platform. He pushed my beautiful silk gown up around my waist and spread my legs with his clawed hands. It was then I looked up and saw his wolf cock; it was hard and long and thick. I cried out in terror "Master!"

His long claws tenderly caressed the skin of my inner thighs as he asked softly once more "What do you wish of me?"

And despite the size of his enormous cock and the fear in me, I heard myself saying "I want you to mount me, Master!"

"So be it!" he howled with animal fury as he entered me with one quick thrust, tearing thru my maidenhead and burying his wolf cock deep inside my human cunt. I began to cry out in ecstasy, not understanding this wonderful feeling he was causing to build up inside me but knowing I had never felt anything so incredibly beautiful before. Tears welled in my eyes as the pleasure grew higher and wider until it became as wild and untamable as my Master. I rode a wave, a surge of energy, unlike anything I had ever felt before or since. It was magic, it had to be. And just when I thought that I would die, the feeling being far too intense for me to handle, it felt as if an explosion went off inside of me just as the Wolf came, spilling his seed inside my womb. And as his seed continued to spill, filling me, I lost consciousness.

I vaguely remembered being carried by the Wolf down a long cold passageway but I was drifting in and out of consciousness. I felt very safe and warm with him so I was not concerned. I buried my face against his hairy chest and let him carry me. When I finally came completely to my senses, I saw that he was setting me down upon a low lying bed. I looked up at him with a question in my eyes, not understanding. But I soon lost sight of him as women, dozens of them, of all ages began to crush in upon us. They were all murmuring and screeching and talking at the same time. I could not make out what they were saying until suddenly he growled loudly and low in his throat. The women immediately became silent and backed away, letting him pass. He turned and was gone.

It was as he faded from my sight that my jumbled brain finally figured out what the women had been saying when he silenced them: "Master, please mount me!"



Hungry Like the Wolf



Morning came to Carstairs Manor on June 10th in the year of Our Lord, 1873, but it was not a happy one. The sun rose sluggishly, barely managing to displace the swollen moon from the sky, and despite the time of year, a cold fog hung over the moor in the early morning. Inside, James Cromwell, Lord Carstairs ate a tense breakfast served by an anxious serving staff.

"Sire, I am afraid I have unfortunate news to report," said Bidwell, the butler, as he brought the morning paper. "Three of the maids appear to have left during the night. I believe them to be staying with family in the village, if you would like me to dispatch someone to fetch them."

Lord Carstairs let out a derisive snort. "Deserters and traitors, the lot of them. Send along a boy with their last day's wages and tell them I have no room for cowards on my staff."

Bidwell nodded, his mouth set in a thin line. "Very good, sire. However, this does leave us with a decided shortage of staff. The events of recent months--"

"Are nothing more than a few idiots wandering about on the moors late at night, running into a pack of wild dogs, and managing to frighten other idiots with their fatal bout of stupidity, Bidwell. Nothing more, nothing less, and I'll not have it said otherwise. Not in my house. Do you understand?"

Bidwell bowed slightly at the waist. "Naturally, sire, and my humblest apologies if I give you any other impression. I merely meant that the...crazed rumors spread by the villagers have made it somewhat difficult to acquire staff. They believe it to be...unlucky...to be a member of the household on the nights of the full moon."

"Frankly," Carl Cromwell, heir to the estate, said as he slouched into the room, "I find it unlucky to be a member of the household any other night. Father, you simply must do something about the staff. How am I supposed to find a bedwarmer if all the maids keep leaving?" Carl chuckled at his own double entendre. The entire household knew that Carl enraged his father on a daily basis with his dalliances with the female staff, but none of his father's fury seemed to hold him back. With saturnine good looks and what seemed to be an insatiable sexual appetite, Carl spent whatever time he wasn't spending hunting or drinking with fucking.

"Take a lesson in self-reliance, boy. Warm yourself up for a change." Lord Carstairs scowled. "There's your answer, Bidwell. I can believe that the women of this house are scared of a wolf in their midst, but I think he's sitting at my table scarfing down sausages."

Bidwell managed to diplomatically indicate appreciation for Lord Carstairs' joke without implying moral sanction on the part of his son, a maneuver that required careful arrangement of his facial features. "In any event, sire, should the draining of the household staff continue, we shall have to look further afield to replace them. Especially should any...idiots...find themselves suffering a...fatal bout of stupidity...tonight, Sire." Lord Carstairs' face took on a thundery expression, and he was about to blast Bidwell with another tirade about superstitious idiots and the full moon, when a footman entered. "Excuse me, Sire. It appears my attention is needed." Bidwell strode over to the footman with an efficient gait, and conversed with him for a long moment.

Carl poured himself a cup of hot coffee and stared out the window at the moors outside, still shrouded by fog. "Wild dog or werewolf, father, it's certainly made hunting dashed difficult. Six months now, and I haven't bagged a single pheasant. It's as though something's scared off every bit of edible game on the estate."

"Werewolf. Next you'll be telling me the estate is under a gypsy curse."

"Well, Father, you did turn away those gypsies seeking to pitch their tents on the estate for the night."

"I also turned away the Temperance League, the parish priest, and those idiot friends of yours who wanted to spend a week out here 'fox-hunting'. That doesn't mean I've got the first ever sober, blue-blooded Protestant werewolf out there stalking me!"

"Excuse me, sire," Bidwell said, returning from his consultation with the footman, "but you have a visitor. Captain Horace Arkwright, the explorer, and his ward, Emma. He claims to have heard something about the recent...difficulties with wild dogs...out on the moor, and offers his services as a tracker and big game hunter to find and kill whatever it is that has caused the recent spate of deaths."

Carl stood up, suddenly white with anger. "Now see here!" he said. "I've been out there every day the last six months, and I assure you, if I can't find whatever killed those poor men and women, I'll be deuced if I'm going to let some jumped-up cowboy wander in here from Darkest Africa with his pet strumpet and give it a try. Father, tell these people to leave."

Lord Carstairs smiled coldly. "Bring them in. I could do with a laugh."

"Very good, sire." Bidwell departed soundlessly.

"Oh, look, Father, we've been through this. The ground is such a wet mess at this time of year that no 'big game hunter' could track prey in it. I looked myself. Just a mess of big paw-prints and human footprints, girls being chased down and struggling with a..." he ended lamely, remembering the tracks that must have belonged to an animal the size of a person, "...wild dog. Just send the fool home, tell everyone to stay inside tonight on penalty of gruesome death, and that will be that."

"That most certainly will not be that," an imperious voice rang out through the massive dining room. A broadly-built, tall man with penetrating gray eyes, dark hair, and a carefully-waxed mustache strode across the room, with a slim, doe-eyed beauty with honey-colored hair trailing in his wake. Behind them, Bidwell struggled to keep up.

"Er...Captain Arkwright, sire," Bidwell said, putting on a last burst of speed.

"A pleasure, Lord Carstairs. This is my ward, Emma Masters. Her parents were dear friends of mine, died in the Congo. I pledged to look after the girl. Now, I must say, your young son is wrong. This 'beast of the moors' has tasted blood. Six times now, from all I hear. Ask any of the Tutsi tribe, they'd tell you that on the veldt, when a lion eats the flesh of a man...or woman...it gets a taste for it. Becomes a man-eater. An animal like that, it gets bolder. More cunning, more fearless. I think you'll find that this has happened before. Ever hear of Basingstoke Hall? Seven months, that beast preyed on the household. Luckily for them, they retained my services. The next month, I lay in wait for the creature, shot it through the heart, and Lord Basingstoke and I watched its lifeblood pour out onto the hearth. It slunk off to die, never to be seen again."

"And were we in the veldt, being menaced by a lion," said Carl, "I would no doubt suggest to Father that we call upon your expertise. But this is England, and apart from enhancing the scenery," he drank in a long look at Emma's delicate features, "I fail to see why you are here instead of rounding the Cape of Good Hope."

"I am here, sir, to warn you that the creature that hunts you will grow bolder as the months pass. The last murder in Basingstoke was within the Hall itself. The creature broke through a window, lunged in, and dragged one of the maids out by the throat. This thing will grow bolder, crueler. Do you wish to wake up one morning to find your son dead?"

Lord Carstairs scowled. "I suppose that should I contact Basingstoke Hall, I would find that you saw this beast off out of the kindness of your heart and the nobility of your spirit, with no thought of recompense and reward?"

"Not at all. But a drowning man can scarcely choose which offer of help he accepts. I tell you, I can kill this beast which menaces you. Can and will."

"And what of Lord Bromsley?" Lord Carstairs asked. "Do you offer him as a reference?"

Captain Arkwright seemed taken aback. "I..."

"He called you a rogue and a scoundrel, a mercenary, a brute and a confidence trickster to boot. Said you came to him some ten years ago, raising money for an expedition to Africa. It turned out to be a fraud. The ship you mentioned turned out to be a derelict, and the money was never seen again."

Captain Arkwright lowered his head. "That was a long time ago, sir, and a young fool can change."

"Yes," Lord Carstairs said, a cold glint in his eyes. "He can become an older fool. Your reputation precedes you, Arkwright, despite all your attempts to get ahead of it, but I think you'll find a very different reception here at Carstairs Manor. My household has more than enough protection without whatever dubious help you can offer. Bidwell, get this man and his 'ward' out of my sight." Carl smiled triumphantly.

Captain Arkwright held up a hand. "Just let me stay for one evening, my lord. One night, and we'll see if you feel any differently about my advice or the beast the morning after the full moon."

Lord Carstairs looked impatiently at Bidwell. "Do we have any rooms to spare for these two?"

Bidwell took the matter under consideration. "There are no guests staying with you at the moment, sire, which means that we have seventeen free bedrooms, six free staterooms, and the White Parlor free for entertaining. We will be having roast turkey tonight, sire, meaning that there should be sufficient extra portions for at least two people--I assume Ms. Masters eats sparingly. As to the morning--"

"So I can't turn them down because we're full up. Ah, well." Lord Carstairs waved a hand negligently. "Go ahead and stay the night, Arkwright. I'll be kicking you out good and early tomorrow, so don't sleep in." He turned back to Bidwell. "Assemble the staff, tell them to make sure to stay indoors tonight. I don't want any bloody fools wandering off..."

Arkwright turned on his heel and left, Emma trailing behind. His eyes hooded, Carl watched them go.

*****

Emma let out a deep sigh as she watched 'Uncle Horace' continue to pace. Back and forth down the length of the room, like a caged tiger, not saying a word all day. He seemed like every muscle was tensed to spring, just waiting for...she looked out the window at the setting sun. Waiting for moonlight. He'd turned down dinner, preferring to wait in his room. Emma's own stomach was far too unsettled to eat. The whole bloody business to come left her decidedly uncomfortable, much like it did at the last few places they'd visited in recent years. Emma felt like her life had become one great round of chasing wild animals around, ever since she became Horace's ward. She'd been fifteen then, she was twenty now, and she felt like she couldn't remember a time when her "Uncle" (not her actual uncle, of course, not by blood, but certainly the nearest thing she had left to family) wasn't taking her to hunt a wild animal that was menacing the nobles of Britain. She supposed he was being very noble, but she just felt scared and miserable.

"Uncle," she said, "perhaps you had best begin your preparations for...for the hunt." She felt a slight catch in her throat, nerves at the thought of some vast, terrifying beast out on the moors. "You haven't gotten out a gun, and the sun has nearly set. If you're going to hunt the beast--"

Captain Arkwright stopped dead in his tracks, and spun to face Emma. "Oh, but Lord Carstairs doesn't want me to do any hunting tonight, Emma. You heard the man--the blasted, confounded, insolent, arrogant man! How did the bastard hear about Bromsley? Oh, I'll see to him. teach him to go blabbing my name around the country..."

Emma sighed, and went to her guardian's side. "But Uncle, we can't just let this creature kill some poor thing! There'll be other chances to hunt for money--we've already visited three estates, saved three nobles, collected three rich purses for our troubles...do we really need this man to give us anything? Surely you can kill the beast just to save a life, just this once."

Arkwright clenched his fists in barely restrained anger. "And if I do, then word will spread of that. The next time we make our visit, they'll be filled with scorn and mockery, expecting a handout. Laughing at me to my face, and expecting me to save their lives? Is that what you want to see, Emma?"

Emma placed a placating hand on his shoulder. "Of course not, Uncle. But--" she looked over to the last sliver of the setting sun. "But I'm frightened," she whispered. "We are on the ground floor, our rooms overlook the moors. It is almost night. What if the beast should attack us?"

Awrkwright smiled, a smug and cruel smile. "I'm not worried." He pulled out a thick strap of leather, folded over itself twice, from his pocket. "I have this."

Emma gaped at her guardian, who seemed to have gone utterly mad. "It's just a piece of old leather! How do you expect that to save you from a slavering, wild beast?"

"Simple, my dear." He held out his hand, letting the leather unfold. A bright, shiny silver buckle hung from the dangling end. "I just hold it like this."

Emma looked at the...belt? No, it was too small to be a belt. She looked at it intently, trying to figure out what it was and how it worked. "And what does it..." The silver buckle glinted in the fading sunlight. "What does it do?"

"You're a bright girl, Emma," he said, holding the strap a little higher. "I'm sure you can figure it out if you just look a little longer."

"I..." Emma stood there for a long moment, staring at the buckle, the way it seemed to swing just a little, sway and twist in ways that caught and reflected the light. She wished she was taller, just a bit--the buckle hung a little above the level of her eyes, and she felt a strain as she was forced to look up at them. "I don't...understand..."

"Of course you do, Emma. Just keep looking at it, and try to remember the last time you saw it."

She'd seen it before? She gazed at the bright, shiny, silvery buckle, and tried to cast her mind back. The buckle seemed to help. It gave her something to focus on, as she just let her mind drift back through the last few weeks, trying not to think about anything except when she might have seen it before, ignoring her surroundings, ignoring her guardian's voice, just thinking back to the last time he held out the same collar...collar! It was a collar. "ohhh," she said, in a voice of sudden, dazed comprehension.

"That's right, Emma. You've seen this before, haven't you?"

Emma nodded. Now that she remembered, how could she forget? Every month, when the moon was full, Horace showed her the collar. It meant so much to her, she didn't understand exactly why she'd forgotten it. He'd shown it to her every time the moon was full these past six months, while they were camping out on the moors, keeping clear of people. He'd shown it to her the first time they met, when she was an orphan girl on the streets of Liverpool. He'd told her that he was going to take care of her from now on, that she was going to remember being his ward. He'd shown it to her a lot those first few years, every day for weeks on end, sometimes. He'd taught her so many important things about how to be a good, proper lady, and she'd accepted it all so easily, and some things she remembered all the time, like the story about being the daughter of his good friend, and some things she only remembered when she needed to, like right now. When he showed her the collar. On the full moon.

"And you remember what you need to do, now, Emma, don't you?"

Emma nodded again. Vacantly, her hands worked at the buttons and stays of her dress. She needed to be naked now. That was very important. Sometimes the clothes sliding over her head obscured the sight of the buckle, but it was always present in her mind's eye. The collar was always there, always in her mind. Even when she wasn't wearing it, she was wearing it.

Emma finished undressing, stood naked in front of her guardian. Five puckered scars stood out in the valley between her breasts--the fourth one was already fading, the fifth one barely visible. She couldn't remember how she got them, but she knew it wasn't important. They only hurt a little, even at the time. Right now, she just needed to stand there, stare at the collar, naked, not thinking of anything in particular. She didn't mind being naked in front of him. A part of her mind understood that she was naked for him many nights, and that the knowledge just slept in her mind until she was supposed to recall it. But it meant something different when she stood before him, naked, on the nights of the full moon.

She wasn't sure how long she stood there, just staring at the collar. Time wasn't important. Horace knew how long it was. He knew best in all things. She knew that if she ever thought about disagreeing with him, she could just remember the feel of the collar around her neck and those disagreements would go away. He knew best in all things. He knew how long he needed her to stay there, just staring at the collar.

When the moonlight gleamed off the collar, she understood what he had been waiting for. She felt it long before anyone could see it, felt the blood course through her veins faster, stronger. The scent of the leather went from a barely definable odor to a thick haze in the air. Her pulse quickened, and she felt her muscles thicken and knot, growing strong and powerful.

She felt the change accelerate, growing physical now. Her bones bent and lengthened. It looked painful, but her moans were those of pleasure, not pain. It didn't hurt. It felt like...coming home. The hair grew, thick and long, a pelt of honey-blonde fur. She dropped to her haunches, feeling the scent of prey all around her, everywhere in the air. She wanted to run wild, now. She felt it, in the instant that the change came upon her, the moment of pregnant possibility. She could do it, she could almost tear her eyes away from Horace and his collar, and run wild for the moors. He'd never be able to catch her there, and she could pour out her howls of passion to the moon, race all night long. She would catch rabbit and pheasant--who needed to eat humans, humans who screamed and whimpered and begged? She understood. Her will was stronger in this wolf form, she could do it this time, she could break free of Horace...

But the collar came nearer, now. The buckle passed over her head, dizzying her for a long moment as her eyes tried to track it out of instinct. Too long. She could feel the collar now, wrapping around her neck. She tried to struggle, but it was weak, half-hearted. Horace knew best in all things. She understood that. She couldn't forget it, because every time she remembered the feel of the collar around her neck, she remembered that she couldn't disobey. And the collar was on her neck, right now, so she couldn't not remember it, she always remembered it, she couldn't forget, she couldn't disobey. He knew best in all things. Emma got down on her haunches in front of him and whined softly.

"Good girl," Horace said. "Now, we're going to take a little walk. We're going to go see that snot-nosed little twerp, and tomorrow, we'll see if Lord Carstairs isn't a little bit more willing to rid himself of that beast when he sees his son's blood cooling on the bedroom floor, eh?"

*****

But Carl wasn't in his room. It was empty. Emma sniffed around, but he was in the house so much, it was impossible to tell which scents were fresh and which were stale. She prowled the corridors, Horace following her, trying to find the young man so she could...so she could follow commands. That was all. That was all she needed to think about. She wore the collar. She had to obey.

She smelled him before she saw him. Her night vision was excellent, but scent didn't depend on light at all. His outline was still just one patch of darkness against another, but the scent of him stood out like a beacon. Emma crouched down into a defensive position, her fangs bared, a low growl rippling up from her throat.




Hungry Like the Wolf



"What is it, my girl?" Horace asked. "Have you found him?"

Emma knew Horace hadn't even seen him. Horace was only human. If Emma hadn't been there, he would have been upon Horace before Horace was even aware of it. As it was, he approached slowly. His scent was strong, now. She could just see him in the gloom, coal-black fur against the greater darkness. Despite her wariness, despite her need to protect her master, despite her need to find Carl and...obey her commands...Emma was intrigued. She had never seen another of her kind before.

Evidently, Horace never had either. When the other werewolf moved into a patch of moonlight, Horace gave a visible start. She smelled a sudden burst of fearsweat. Horace suddenly smelled like prey to her, but the collar told her otherwise. "What the--?" he said, his quiet gasp loud to both of the other sets of ears in the darkened hallway.

"You come to my home," the wolf said, his voice a low, thundering growl. "You hide on my territory, you hunt my game, you murder my servants. You collar one of my brethren. You slink through my hallways, a guest planning to murder under my roof? You stink of fear, Captain Horace Arkwright. But not gunpowder. Perhaps you know that you cannot hurt one of the Pack with your gun."

"Emma," he said, his voice tight with fear. "Kill it. Kill it now."

Emma loped forward. A part of her wondered who this wolf was in daylight hours. If Horace came upon them in daylight, would he collar them the way he had collared her, the morning after he had barricaded her in his own rooms? Would this man be able to resist the way she could not? Because she could not resist. He was the first of her kind she had ever met, he seemed to know things she wanted desperately to learn, but all she could do now was leap for his throat. She pounced.

He rolled away. She felt his claws rake her thigh, and she let out a yelp of pain. But it had been more startling than painful. He didn't want to hurt her. She didn't want to hurt him. But she had to. Behind her, Horace kept up a whispered chant of, "Kill it kill it kill it kill it--" The fearsweat poured off of him, maddening Emma, but all she could direct her hunger at was the other wolf. She slashed out with her own claws, leaving bloody trails down his back. He yowled, spun, gave her a hard bite on the shoulder.

She could already feel her wounds closing, already see his. She understood that this would be a difficult kill, but some instinct told her that it was not impossible. She tensed, saw him do the same. She understood that they were both waiting for the perfect moment, the moment to leap and bite and sink fangs into the other's soft, tender throat. The moment to crush and kill. They circled. Fearsweat filled the air.

Emma saw her opening. She leapt. In that single instant, she realized her fatal error. The opening was a feint. The other wolf knew far more about combat than she did, had hunted other wolves while she had been forced to waste her talents on scullery maids. Her leap left her throat exposed, and she felt the fangs sink in. At least it would be over quickly.

But it wasn't. The fangs barely nipped her, then withdrew. She couldn't understand it. The other wolf knew that she needed to kill, but he hadn't killed him. Her neck had been bared for the killing bite, but he'd spared her. She crashed to the floor in an ungainly heap, but was quickly back up, ready for the fight. Then her eyes caught sight of a glint of silver, lying on the floor in the moonlight. The collar. The collar lay on the floor, its strap severed by razor-sharp teeth. She growled. The collar no longer held her, and there was prey in the room, cowering and stinking of that maddening, mouth-watering fearsweat, bringing on a furious hunger, and suddenly Emma was loping towards him, and...

Everything went red for a few moments after that.

Then she turned to the other wolf. "Who...arrre...you?" she growled out. Speech was difficult for her in this form. She hadn't had much call to use it.

He walked towards her, a quiet strength in his stride. "I am the master of this household. Your master is dead, now. You have no place to go. I offer you a place in my Pack, at my side."

She backed away, warily. "I have just ended one masterrr's life with my teeth. Why would I exchange one slaverrry forrr anotherrr?"

"It is not slavery. It is the way of our kind. That," he gestured back to the collar. "That was slavery. That was the human way. You are of the Pack." He kept approaching. "Drink deep of my scent, and you will understand."

Emma's back hit the wall. She couldn't back away further. He just kept coming. Drink deep of his scent? What did he even mean? His scent surrounded her. "I...I..." She took a deep breath. Underneath his scent, now, as she approached, she smelled a second scent. It smelled like...she was suddenly aware of an ache between her legs. The scent smelled...it smelled good, warm, like...a liquid rush of arousal forced her to her hands and knees. She crawled forward, sniffing closer and closer for the source of the scent.

"That's right. I lead our Pack, and you can smell that in the air. The scent gives you understanding of your place in the Pack, your place..." His voice trailed off into a low growl as she licked at his crotch, tasting the thick, musky sweat that was the source of the scent. With every lick, she felt her own hindquarters grow more moist and aroused, and she found herself involuntarily raising them in the air. She needed this, she wanted it. "Your place with me."

"Yess..." she gasped. She felt him crawling around behind her, felt his shaft sink deep into her, and she howled her passion to the moon as she felt his love for her, different from the loveless sex humans had given her. His cock swelled up within her, and their mingled scent filled her nose, she knew that this was right, right in a way that she could not resist--no. That was the old way, the human way. This was right in a way she did not want to resist. She was not being broken. She was surrendering.

She felt her lover, her master, her alpha male cum inside her, again and again, and her own pleasure seemed to last all night, until the moon finally set and she felt her body once again becoming small, weak, all too human. The man who lay on top of her was human as well. She looked at him, feeling the stirrings of human love.

She was surprised at who she saw.

*****

A few hours later, Carl slipped out of the servants' quarters, giving one last peck on the cheek to a very appreciative ladies' maid. He practically bumped into Bidwell, who was draped in a sheet, escorting a somewhat-dazed looking miss Emma Masters, also draped in a sheet. "Bidwell, you old rogue!" Carl said, elbowing him in the ribs. "Quite a catch, there! I never would have thought you had it in you."

"I'm afraid sir has misunderstood slightly," Bidwell said. "I--"

"Say no more," Carl said with a wink. "After all, if I told Father, we'd all be in the soup. And frankly, I'd just as soon not see you gone. You run this house better than the Queen runs England."

Bidwell coughed diplomatically. "Sir is too kind," he said, "but I'm afraid there has actually been an incident. That dreadful Mister Arkwright attempted to sneak some sort of hound into the household in order to defraud Lord Carstairs of a sum of money. The beast broke free, killed its master, and ran off into the night. I intend to find Miss Masters a place to stay for the present, while her affairs are sorted out. I fear she has been little more than an innocent victim in all this."

Carl nodded, taking the shocking story in with remarkable equanimity. "And the fact that both of you are just wearing bedsheets?"

"Ah," Bidwell said, his face betraying not a hint of a smile. "There, sir has interpreted the basic facts of the situation entirely correctly." He tapped his nose, winked, and continued his walk down the hallway.

Carl chuckled to himself as he headed back towards his rooms. "Bidwell," he said to himself. "Never saw him as the type. Still, scratch a man, and you'll find a wolf..."

THE END



Hungry Like The Wolf Ch. 01



"I thought you didn't like beer," he said. 

The Hefeweizen was good. Cara leaned forward to grab his glass and took a drink of the murky liquid. He sat lazily in the booth and smirked at her, arms crossed over his chest. It was noisy with the din of conversation throughout the South Water Kitchen. But the lounge was classy and comfortable and it was connected to his hotel lobby...plus there was a pool table. Which for this night, was exactly what he wanted.

Cara set the glass down and smiled back. "I just like your beer," she countered.

"But you're a beer snob," he challenged again, shifting, but keeping his arms crossed.

"Oh, that's not fair." She raised her eyebrows in defense. "Just cause I'm from Portland doesn't mean I know micro-brew."

He frowned teasingly. "Like hell it doesn't." 

God, she was easy to rile up, and he liked watching her skin flush as she took the challenge. She leaned forward in the seat across from him, and he knew she wasn't ready to give up yet.

"Beer snob my ass... you're the one with the artisan beer obsession!" 

Cara's eyes narrowed again. She knew he wasn't really high maintenance, but he also had a preference for a privately bottled, hard to find lager and hell if she'd let him get off without playing that card.

Tom laughed thru his nose, and put his hands up in the air. "All right, all right, ease down turbo."

Cara smiled in victory and looked away. A sweep of auburn hair fell across one temple covering the corner of her eye. She sat relaxed, but her body was tight with excitement.... warm, even in the air conditioning.

Tom watched her fiddle with her watch, twisting it back and forth. He knew from experience it meant she was nervous. It had been a long time since college -- almost 14 years since he'd seen her. They'd met junior year, working together, and quickly became friends. He had flashes of memories -- moments in time with her. Boating on a lake...trail biking in the woods...lying on the floor of his apartment studying...crying gently to her about a breakup...getting coffee for her (cream, no sugar) in the student union....seeing her sleep in his lounge chair, wrapped in a sheepskin blanket. He'd watch her when she didn't know he was looking. Watch her calves flex going up the stairs, or see her T-shirt pull against her breasts when she twisted sideways. 

They even teetered on more. Hugs that lasted too long, her body touching the full length of him. Massages that drifted off his back, caressing his hips, down his hamstrings...feeling her hands on the inside of his thighs, but not any higher. She'd dated someone else and he'd never butt in, never asked her to question that relationship or tell him what she truly thought of theirs. And then they graduated and moved on.

They had barely connected with Christmas cards, and then more so with Facebook. He knew she had her own company doing event planning and corporate meetings. But unlike his frequent traveling, he knew she was rarely away from Portland. Then, she texted last week rambling on about speaking at an industry conference.

Now she'd flown to Chicago for the conference and he had driven in for a partner meeting. And for the first time in almost 2 decades they were in the same place at the same time - and he wanted every possible minute with her.

"Oh geeze...now what are you thinking?" she asked with wry alarm.

Cara watched his thoughts spinning behind light blue eyes. He was just as she remembered -- wry, playful, confident, smart. Taller than she thought and still in shape with strong molded shoulders and trim waist. Tousled brown hair, short at the temples and mussed along his forehead. She hadn't thought of him in so long, but felt the contentment of being with him now. She found herself intensely curious of his life...his achievements, what made him laugh, what he did on Saturday mornings. There were so many things she wanted to ask. She watched patiently for small flares of his masculinity...his Adam's apple when he talked...the sinews of his forearm when he rotated his hand...the deep rumble in his throat as he hummed instead of saying "yes."

Tom leaned forward and looked right at her. "Pool. I wanna shoot pool. With you."

Cara raised her eyebrows and smiled slightly before answering.

"All right." 

She got up, smoothing the sides of her skirt over her thighs and straightening the tank top. Tom unfolded himself from the bench seat and followed her to a rack of cues. He pushed up his sleeves and grabbed a wallet from the back pocket of tan cargo pants. Peeling out a $5 bill, he paid the bartender and brought over a rack with 15 balls. Cara held a wooden triangle out for him.

"Any rules?" she quizzed him.

"You know what they are."

She smiled lazily. "You think you can distract me?"

He hoped to God so. "We're about to find out."

As Tom finished with the setup and started to break, Cara went to the opposite end of the table, directly above his shot, and cocked her head gently to one side. Tom smirked as the cue ball slammed into the tight stack, scattering it across the table.

Nothing went down so Cara wandered the edge looking for the best shot.

"Six ball. Side pocket."

Tom was a good three feet away but as she leaned over the table, Cara felt the end of his cue slide gently up her calf. She smiled, but took the shot and sank it. She stood and looked at him through her eyelashes, smirking gently.

He chuckled. "All right hot shot, go again. So you still play?"

She shook her head. "Been a long time..."

"Well, it's just like..... You know."

"yea....bike riding," she answered.

"Mmmmm. Something like that."

She called for the four ball corner pocket, but it meant a shot down the near rail -- difficult for a right handed player. With her right foot on the ground, she propped her left hip on the side of the table and swung the cue around her back.

"Ohhhhh, nice," he drawled.

"They're your damn rules. My foot's touching the floor."

He chuckled again and gestured with his hand. "Take your shot."

Tom watched the furrow in her brow as she concentrated. With both arms behind her and leaning back for the shot, her breasts pushed forward making the orange cotton fabric taut. They were smooth and round, held in (he guessed) padded satin, not lace. "Damn....," he muttered under heavy breath, and she knew he was looking. It was enough to throw her. The ball nicked the corner without going in.

"Shit," she said climbing off the table. But she knew she'd started to get to him. "You're up handsome," as she took a few steps to give him room.

Thomas paused, feeling tightness in his thighs. "That's about right," throwing a glance at her. He looked back at the table, but he'd already chosen his next move. "Nine ball. Corner pocket." He flexed a shoulder and brought the stick down hard. He hadn't given her time to get near him and the ball went down fast. As he set up for the next shot, Cara circled the table the opposite way and met him on the other side.

He could feel the heat of her, as she got close. Leaned over the table, he cocked his head to look at her. She smirked at him, her eyes glistening. She did like this. He saw the flush in her cheeks...the shallow breathing thru parted lips. "Twelve ball. Near pocket," he said quietly. It was a bank off the far rail and he needed a second to set up the angle. Cara slid her warm hand under the collar of his pullover and stroked the back of his neck, dragging her fingertips thru the nape of his short hair. God it felt good. He had a flash of memory from years before -- the same smooth fingers doing the same teasing thing. He let his breath out slowly as his head drooped, enjoying her touch. He let her caress him another moment before drawing back the stick. The cue ball made the ricochet, but just barely kissed the twelve, pushing it into the rail. 

"Ohhhh...you're wicked," he hissed.

"I thought you liked playing with me?" Cara questioned, feigning a pouty lip. 

Tom chuckled, shaking his head and resisted the urge to say anything more. 

He paused again. He wanted to know what she was thinking. What did she remember? What was she thinking now? She was certainly playing along but how far would she go?

Cara moved away from him. She sank the three ball and then set up for the one. She couldn't aim fast enough and Tom approached her, stopping directly behind, and placed his hand on her back, caressing in small circles. His hand slid down just slightly as his fingers brushed along the flare of her bottom, below the hip line, then pulled around her side and glided with open fingers along her abdomen until his palm was centered over her navel, fingers reaching down.

He leaned forward and whispered in her ear. "Should I keep going? No distraction is against the rules...."

He saw her breathe deeply, then slowly blink once, focusing on his touch.

"Mmmmm. I'm gonna sink this first." He heard her struggle not to give in. The one ball slammed into the corner and dropped.

"Dammit, you're actually beating me."

"Luck." She paused, eyeing him. "You're distracting me."

"Is that a good thing?"

"Yeah. I missed it."

"Yea," he agreed as she turned sideways and bent over to line up another ball.

Tom leaned toward her with his warm breath near her ear. He wanted to up the ante.

"How about if I kiss you senseless?"

She gasped gently and went for the shot but the ball hit two rails and rolled to a stop in the middle of the table.

"You're gonna pay for that," she threatened as she stood up.

He looked down at her, the corners of his mouth just curling upward. "I hope so."

Tom pulled away and found his next move with the fourteen ball. He called a pocket but it took extraordinary effort to concentrate. She was still next to him, leaning sideways just slightly. As she grabbed his taught hamstring and began to massage slowly toward the inside of his leg, he started to come undone. He was heady with a memory from a decade ago. She'd given him massages a few times...rubbing his arms, his legs, straddling his lean hips and pushing down hard into his back...too excited to stop, but too nervous to do anything else. But that was 14 years ago. Now, she wanted more.

He breathed heavily, thinking only of her hands and where he wanted them to start roaming. He made his shot but the cue ball barely hit the fourteen.

"Damn you," he said quietly.

She was sideways next to him, and her head turned toward his chest, her eyes roving over his tall frame. "It's just a game," she shrugged gently.

They both knew better. Tom was starting to ache. He needed her out of the bar. Cara bent over the table to call another shot, her skirt brushing against the side of his thigh. He leaned into her from behind, his arm around her waist. 

"Why don't you come upstairs," he whispered, more a statement than a question.

Care paused and straightened slightly. The cue sagged in her hand for a moment and then slid along her opposite thumb, connecting with the ball and surprisingly dropping into the pocket. They barely noticed. She stood up and he watched the movement of her chest, the desire in her eyes.

"Ummm, I don't know," she managed, blinking slowly and holding the cue upright for support.

"Didn't you ever think about this?"

"Pool?"

"No. Not pool."

She smiled shyly without answering, and he knew the answer.

"I couldn't..." Then she answered his question. "Yes."

I was the first time Cara had blatantly expressed raw desire for him. Tom wanted her to keep talking. 

"Do you have any idea what you do to me?"

She dropped her head slightly with an embarrassed grin. "Uhh..that would be my line."

His eyes flared. "Well good. Cause we're gonna do something about it now."

Enough of this shit. Tom welcomed the rush of adrenaline as it galvanized him into action. Before she could respond, he took the cue stick from her hand and replaced it with his in the wall rack and laid a twenty on the table for the drinks. 

"I have to get back," she countered lamely, biting her lip.

"Mmmm. I know." He paused before adding, "It's only 9 o'clock." 

He was ready to move but he couldn't drag her. He faced her and slid a hand around her waist.

"Listen, I need to know what you're thinking. So you gotta tell me."

His gaze burned into hers. "Come upstairs with me. Ok?"

He waited breathless while she paused a second before answering.

"Ok. God yes."

Her eyes flashed with anticipation, as if making the decision itself had suddenly destroyed the apprehension and unleashed a feverish wanting. With a hand on the small of her back, Tom guided her out of the lounge and into the lobby of the Hotel Monaco.

"Hang on just a sec," he murmured and then broke away to walk to the front desk. He spoke to the concierge briefly and then rejoined her at the bank of elevators.

As he pushed the button for the 8th floor, the doors closed and Cara felt the tension in her body ratchet to an excruciating level. Tom loomed over her, but didn't touch her or say a word. His eyes ravaged the front of her body -- shoulders dipping into biceps, full breasts rising and falling with her breath, trim waist and the flare of hips, curving backward. He flexed his hands trying to give them something to do.

She was smiling, but with alarm in her eyes. 

"You ok?" he asked softly.

His care seemed to relax her tension, but not her excitement. She nodded ever so slightly, "Yeah." Her hair fell around her shoulders in haphazard sections, with shorter layers curving forward to caress her jaw. She blinked mascara'd lashes over green eyes and then parted her lips and licked gently, making the bottom one moist.

He looked hard at her again. "God, you're beautiful."

She blushed, crinkling the corners of her eyes. Through her smile, he watched the tip of her tongue brushing the inside of her teeth. The combination made him ache even more.

The elevator opened and she followed him down the hallway until he swiped a card in one of the doors. He went first and held it open as she brought herself inside the dark space. It was cool, with the soothing hum of the room fan. Black sky and city lights filtered in thru the blinds of two ceiling high picture windows at the far end, behind a sitting area with an armchair and table. A king bed took up the middle of the room. It was too dark for Cara to see details, but she knew the comforter was down and pillows were propped against the silky padded headboard. She dropped her purse by a bureau along the wall.

The door clicked as she turned back and his shadow approached her in three strides. 

"Come here," sliding a hand around her waist and the other along her jaw to the nape of her neck.

Tom dipped his head as he brought his lips down to hers. She was so sweet. He tipped his head slightly to fit against the crease of her lips and she opened gently to lap at him with the tip of her tongue. Her body was shaking from the pent up tension but she pushed into him, using her mouth and breasts and hands to ask for more.

He kissed at her soft mouth over and over, flexing the hand on her waist and pulling her up flush with his body. The feel of her hips pressed against his brought the blood rushing to his groin. He opened his stance just slightly and ground his pelvis against her again, his cock hardening behind the confines of boxers and cargo pants.

Cara was giddy...intoxicated by him. She grabbed at his back, holding herself to him as closely as possible, savoring the feel of his hard shaft against her. He was musky and clean...and tasted of fresh beer. The hint of whisker growth on his jaw tickled her cheek. With an arm around her, still kissing, Tom pushed her backward toward the bed, his legs straddling the outsides of hers as he walked. She felt the mattress on her hamstrings but he didn't topple her onto the sheet.

Tom stroked her tongue with his, the kiss quickly disintegrating any hesitation she had. He could feel her groping his arms, his back, pushing herself against him. Her lips glided harder against his as she brought her arms up around his neck, burying her fingers in his hair. With her arms up, her breasts sat even higher, thrust against his chest and molding to his body. She whimpered quietly while kissing his top lip. He no longer had any question about what she felt or what she wanted. Knowing she desired him that badly made him harden more. He wanted to just push her over and bury himself inside her wetness, but it would be over too soon. He broke away to kneel before her, both his hands sliding to the hem of her skirt and then underneath to palm each cheek of her ass, black breezy fabric draping over his forearms. He felt the lace of her thong as it disappeared into the crease between his hands. His nose caressed her navel as he breathed deeply, causing her to moan. 

Her fingers stroked into his hair, gripping, as if to hold herself up.

"Tom, I can't believe...that feels so good. You're makin me crazy."

"God, I've wanted to do this since that first week I met you," he whispered, continuing to plant kisses along her stomach, her hips, her ribcage. "Man, I bet you cum so hard...I bet you just scream."

Cara's hands stilled and she got very quiet. He looked up at her and saw thought -- not passion - in her eyes. He levered himself up higher to look at her face to face. He smiled quizzically, but then she became even more serious....concerned....worried.

"Hey, baby, what's wrong?"

"No," she managed. "It's nothing." 

"Uhnt, uh. That's not the deal. Talk to me."

She shook her head and smiled, and he knew it was fake.

He kissed her soft lips again and whispered, "Tell me."

She turned into his warm neck, head bowed. "I... I'm not very....I don't always..."

Tom was silent for a second working out her admission, and then he wrapped his arms around her as she gasped once, very quietly, looking for composure.

"Heeyyyyyy. Listen to me." He pulled back to make eye contact. "It's ok..."

"No it's not." She seemed angry but he sensed it was with herself, rather than him. "What if I don't...." 

Tom cut her off. "It's not a contest sweetheart." He paused again. Dammit, he didn't have patience for a therapy session. She was pulling back from him...and his cock was responding -- or rather not responding. He decided to get right to it.

"Baby, can you make yourself climax?"

She looked shy, but didn't hesitate in answering.

"Yes. Most of the time."

"Good. I bet you can." He smiled. "Ok. You focus on that." And with a wry smile he added, "And leave the rest to me. Ok? This is supposed to be fun."

"Yeah." Cara sighed with a laugh and then nodded. "I'm....sorry." 

"Hey, don't ever be sorry for being honest with me. Tell me what feels good."

"Ok," nodding. She paused, tipping her head slightly as if she'd thought of something else. 

"Ummm...you don't have to....use protection. I have a... I got it covered." She eyed his chest shyly.

"Ok, sweetheart. I was gonna ask, but...good. Now, you think you could turn off that brilliant mind of yours and just enjoy yourself?" He tipped his forehead to just connect with hers and smiled with the corners of his mouth.

Her smile broke wider. "Yeah," she said with a tiny giggle. "Shit. I'm hopeless."

His hands slid up her back again. "Nope. Just smoking hot."

She felt his thumb brush the top of her cheek bone. He kissed her eyelid, her nose, the top of her lip, and finally tugged gently on her bottom lip, nipping at her, until it deepened to cover her whole mouth. 

"That's really sexy, by the way," he whispered into the corner of her mouth.

"What?" She felt his kisses move down her neck.

"That you make yourself cum. Would you show me?"

"Maybe," she said smirking.

"Ohhhhh...more than maybe. That is definitely in your future."




Hungry Like The Wolf Ch. 01



She felt his hand sliding up the sides of her rib cage and heard the moan rumble in his throat as his mouth worked its way across her collar bone. Just as the heat was rising again in her stomach, there was a knock at the door.

Tom broke away breathless, but smiled. "Don't go anywhere. And don't start thinking either."

He pushed away from her and padded toward the door. Cara turned and sat in the corner chair in front of the window. The pinpricks of city lights highlighted her silhouette. The door was enough around the corner that she couldn't see who it was. A shaft of light cut into the room as it opened.

"Mr. Wolf, I have your room service."

"I'll take it in, thank you." 

Cara heard a quiet moment as he signed for the bill and then the delicate sound of china. The door closed and he appeared pushing a cart ahead of him with one hand.

"Hungry?" he drawled, smirking.

Cara's eyes went wide with mischief. But he left the plates covered and came toward her again.

Tom sat on the edge of the bed, directly in front of her chair, his thighs apart and his hands behind him, propping himself on stiff arms. He just watched her...watched each part of her body. Watched her make eye contact, then look away, then come back again. He sensed the boldness rising up in her again.

"You make me wet," she murmured.

"Show me."

She looked him in the eyes and paused, as if making a decision, but then slipped off her wedge sandals leaving them on the floor. Slowly, she leaned back into the chair and bent her left knee, folding it under herself, essentially sitting on her bare foot. Her right hand came down to her thigh and her fingers crawled the soft fabric up from her knee to the crease at her hip. Tom watched the white lace of her thong peek from under the black veil of skirt material.

Tom nodded once. "Take your top off first."

Cara blinked slowly. She crossed her arms at the waste and pulled upward on the wrap tank, exposing first a soft, trim belly with hint of tanned skin and then breasts barely contained inside a white satin (he was right) demi cup bra, the thin straps pulling at her shoulders. She dropped the shirt next to the chair and leaned back again slightly.

"I can't believe you're getting me to do this," she whispered.

"I'm just here to support and encourage," he defended, smiling. It was getting harder for him to think. With a more serious, deep voice he added, "Actually, I'm here to fuck you senseless. Show me those panties."

Ohhhh, she liked the sound of that. She pulled on the skirt again with her left hand so the fabric was draping across both thighs but high in the middle over her wrist. Tom saw a tiny satin bow on the band in the center....and the small fluff of hair just in the very middle thru the lace. She paused again, looking at him. He didn't mind guiding her...

"Now, show me what feels good."

Tom watched her put first one and then two fingers of her right hand into her mouth, running her tongue around them in circles and then down between them to the knuckle where they joined. God in heaven, he wouldn't be able to sit still much longer. His hands clenched on the bed sheet, but he remained still. Wet and shiny, she dropped the fingers to her crotch and used her left hand to pull the white lace to one side while her right hand floated above, and then rested on, the dark wet curls. He watched her straight fingers slide back and forth over the crease of her opening and up to the nub of her clit that was already swollen and showing itself. She circled it four times and then dipped both fingers all the way inside, closing her eyes and gasping softly.

"Jesus, baby." It was the sexiest fucking thing he'd seen in a long time and he wasn't about to sit on that bed any longer. But he wanted her really hot, not distracted, and not thinking of anything else but what he was about to do to her.

He watched her stroke herself with two fingers, and then pull out and tease her clit...rubbing in circles and figure eights before diving inside the dark wetness again. She was stroking faster, tipping her hand sideways so the hard side of her palm rubbed the tiny piece of flesh each time her fingers dove in and out. Her left arm leaned against the armrest of the chair and she slowly, as if subconsciously, brought her left hand up and cupped her breast, kneading and squeezing it.

Tom inhaled thru his teeth. He was twitching with anticipation when she opened her eyes and begged for him.

"Come here," panting deeply, her lips slightly sticking together as she spoke. "Please."

He pushed off the bed, standing in front of her, and grabbed his shirt by the shoulders and pulled the fabric up and over the back of his head. Cara, still fingering herself, sighed at his muscled chest and the thin layer of hair that trailed down along his belly and disappeared behind pant fabric. Then he undid his button and zipper. Sliding both hands under the waistband, he pushed cargos and boxes off together. In once step, he was before her, leaning down with his hands on the chair on either side of her. Cara pulled her fingers from her dripping cunt and wrapped them around the long hard cock displayed before her. Her eyes had been half closed, enjoying herself, but the sight of his stunning flesh so close made her dizzy. She licked the dryness on her lips.

"Pleeeease," she whispered again.

Tom closed his eyes and groaned at the feel of her hand, warm and moist, grabbing him. How many nights had he thought about her doing that? She was holding him now, covering the tip and then sliding firmly down the length of him, fingers curled one way and thumb curled the other.

His hands closed around her bottom, pulling her whole body forward to the edge of the armchair. Collapsing to his knees, he slid his hands up the insides of her thighs, spreading them, and moving himself between her legs. He'd waited too damn long for any more games.

She was still holding him, guiding him, her panties held aside in her left hand...his throbbing cock in her right hand. As soon as he felt the slightest touch of her against his tip, he thrust forward burying into her warmth, dragging her toward him with his hands, his knees grinding into the plush carpet.

Cara let out a deep, whimpering sigh and wrapped both arms around his shoulders, crushing her mouth against his neck.

He was in heaven. "Holy hell, you feel amazing." 

He used his hands to hold her against his pelvis, and then pull on her to create a rhythm. Her legs wrapped around behind his, with her feet brushing on the creases at the backs of his knees.

He was inches from her face, watching the pleasure and surprise wash over her. She was warm and soft and tight and he felt her slickness pulling against him each time he withdrew and then pushed into her again. She sat up slightly, propping herself with one arm, which tipped her pelvis forward against him, stroking him harder. The soft silk of the bra brushed against his ribs on each rocking movement.

They pulled on each other, bringing their bodies together every half a second. Tom drew his hands up and slid the bra straps off each of her shoulders. The repetitive movement of her body made her shaking breasts spill over the top of the satin cups, her nipples hardening in the air. He slid is hands along her ribcage, holding firmly, while his thumbs reached inward and circled the tips of her nipples.

"OH Tom, that feels... Ohhhh, God....."

"Ahhhh....baby.... You're the sexiest little thing I've ever seen. I just want to love you....and drive you crazy.....and fuck you so hard you can't think."

She smiled between her heavy breathing. "Well, two down. One to go."

Now it was her turn to become serious. She looked him in the eye, panting against his mouth, begging again. Demanding. "Fuck me. Please."

Tom groaned with desire, wrapping both arms around her hips and under her ass. He bent one leg up, planting a foot on the floor, her thigh draped over the top of his.

"Hold onto me, baby doll...."

As she gripped his shoulders, he flexed and stood up, lifting her frame up and onto him, still buried inside her. Cara exhaled deeply, awash in desire. She gripped his hips with her thighs, wrapping her bare feet under his ass, and kissed him squarely on the mouth, dipping her tongue inside to play with his.

She felt him turn and take three steps to the bed and then knee down on the mattress with one leg before dropping her onto the cool sheets and collapsing on top of her. He buried one hand in her hair, holding the top of her head while the other found her breast and searched for the nipple amid the satin padding.

Suddenly he pushed with both arms so he was above her, his fast, shallow breathing floated across her cheek.

"We gotta get you out of all this," motioning to the skirt and lingerie clinging to her body. He began to pull away...pull out of her.

She moaned softly, "No, don't leave."

"I know sweetheart. But it'll be even better."

He pulled out quickly as she gasped but then his hands were on her skirt, yanking it and the thong to her ankles and off her feet. She propped herself up on her elbows and he reached around and undid the two clasps of her bra, sliding it off her arms and tossing it to the floor.

He moaned again at the slight of her breasts. Especially with her propped at that angle, they were full and round with dusky pink nipples. He held himself up with a hand on either side of her stomach and wrapped his lips around one of the mounds. Her skin was soft and faintly sweet with perfume and she cried out as he swirled his tongue around the bumps of the areole and then flicked on the tip of her nipple.

Cara grabbed for him again, her hands groping along his stomach, his thighs, wriggling thru the hair of his groin. God he was glad she was so ready for him. He wanted back inside that tight, wet pussy. As her hands reached their target again and wrapped around his length, Tom levered higher to crush his mouth onto hers. He began a wicked pattern of licking against her teeth, her tongue, and the crease of her lips. He felt her thighs draw upward and then open, demanding him be there. He paused just slightly to let her guide him to her, but as she loosened the grip of her hand to move it away, he plunged inside and she felt back into the down pillows taking him with her.

"AAhhhh......." His hips rocking slowly into hers....Whispering into her mouth as he kissed her. 

"Ohhh shit, I'm so hard. God baby...." he breathed.

His body moved deliberately on top of hers. He could feel a mist of sweat between her breasts. The round, supple mounds were against his chest but the wetness on her skin made him slide slightly against her. And with his weight partially off, her breasts were round against him, the hard nipples rubbing the hair on his chest making them even more sensitive.

She lifted slightly, both to push her hips back against his each time he moved, and also to nip at his lips that hovered just over her face.

Their rhythm was constant and deliberate -- determined, but not rough. Cara watched the sheen of sweat on his face and then closed her eyes to concentrate on the feel of his stomach rubbing hers, the hair on his legs brushing the insides of her thighs, that amazing cock stroking, teasing, every inch of her inside. 

"Ohh, " she moaned. "Oh God...." Her breath came faster, a sweet little squeal with each exhale. "Oh...you're so...."

He knew she was getting close and despite the pain of holding himself back, he kept a steady rhythm....short, fast strokes that built her higher and higher without interruption. He tilted his hips slightly, pushing hard onto her pubic bone and bringing the base of his cock along her swollen clit with each thrust inside her.

As her body was tensing, her chest muscles plumped her breasts even more, pushing them into him. He felt the definition of her shoulder and tricep under his hand. The combination of toned arms and legs with the soft roundness of her hips and breasts was driving him nuts. 

On instinct, he threaded his hands into hers and pulled them above her head, locking her underneath him. He put some of his weight on his elbows at the sides of her head, but was otherwise covering her. Cara let out a moaning cry of pleasure. "Fuck me Tom," panting. "oh....Fuck me." More panting. "Don't stop. Oh.....Don't stop." Her right leg climbing higher along his body, hooking her foot under his taut backside while her thigh grazed his ribcage. He pulled his foot over the ankle of her other leg, pinning it to the bed, essentially splaying her beneath him.

"That's it baby... Jesus, you're tight." He pounded hard again. "I wanna be deep in this sweet pussy of yours when you cum."

"Mmmmmm...yeah.....please. Oh....I'm wet....you make me so wet. Rub my nipples honey. Please."

His released one hand, still holding her wrists with the other, and wrapped his fingers around a nipple, rolling the hard nub between his thumb and the knuckle of his second finger, while the pad of his first finger rubbed the top of it. She cried out loudly and pushed her wrists against the hand still holding her down.

"God, you're throbbing around me," his voice rasping into the soft flesh at the side of her neck. "That's it sweetheart....cum for me. Feel me inside you...." Tom grunted again, groaning against the ecstasy of it. "Ohhh...you feel so fucking good. Feeling you slide against me..." He groaned deeply with each breath. "God, you're getting even wetter..."

Cara couldn't believe the urgency, the tightness, the obsession to find a release for this feeling. There were stars flashing on the closed lids of her eyes. Suddenly heat flooded from her stomach, across her chest and up through her neck. Her shoulders and arms tensed against his weight and she tipped her hips into him with the tiniest movement, contracting her pelvic muscles, stomach, and thighs.

"Ohhhh GOD," she cried. Her whole body tightening...curling...until he released her hands and could slide that arm under her concaved back, his fingers open wide cupping her shoulders, the other hand still squeezing against her nipple, rolling it tightly. He buried deeper, thrusting, as she gasped, eyes closed, mouth open, panting, crying, "Ohhhhhh Tom...oh I'm gaaa...I'm gonna cu..." And with that the heaviness exploded around her.

For a moment, she was completely quiet, holding her breath in a silence scream. He saw the wincing of pleasure on her face and then heard her gasping. Tom reached down, grabbing her ankle with his hand and pulled gently, bending her leg up until her knee was under his right shoulder. She was still crying out, pulsating, squeezing him. With her legs completely open to him, he thrust hard and deep -- once, twice, three, four, five times -- feeling his cock slam into the back of her hot wetness. She cried out again, squealing. That was the edge of his limit. Hot, creamy cum hurtled thru him and he wanted her to feel every bit of it, every bit of him. Tom heard her whimpering and felt the final clenching of steaming wet pussy around his cock, milking it, her body shuddering underneath him. Her hands dug into his back and he exploded inside her warmth, his voice strong and deep with focus. ".....Ohhhhh Christ Baby....." 

She was still beyond words but he could hear them crying out together, gasping with each breath.

"....OHHHHH....Unnhhhh.....Ohhhhh yeah.....Ahhhhhh...."

Her hands gripped the backs of his shoulders, circling, caressing -- and then moving lower to squeeze his ass. Tom buried his face into the pillow under her and groaned.

Releasing her ankle, he brought both hands onto the sides of her head with fingers splayed into the tangled locks...forehead to forehead...and breathed heavily against her cheek. Her hands traveled slowly from the small of his back, up across his spine, and gripped each of his shoulders again as she moaned softly.

Still inside her, Tom rolled sideways onto his left shoulder, sliding that arm under her neck and leaving his right leg across hers, keeping her hips against his.

He was still breathing hard, his chest heaving against her. She heard the wry humor coming from him. "You ok, darlin?"

She giggled quietly with heavy breath, nodding. "You have no idea." 

His hand stroked her hair from her temple. "Ohhhh....I think I do."

She giggled again, a bit louder, which made him smile. 

There was awe in her voice. "Oh fuck, you're amazing."

He hugged her tightly. She was rolling her body next to him, fidgeting, like she was antsy. Every once in a while she'd giggle again and kiss him along his chest and neck. Finally she calmed and lay still against him.

"All right. Hold on sweetie," he murmured. 

She gasped as he pulled out of her gently, but then moaned with contentment as he put his full hand against her crotch, massaging her dripping pussy...from palm to fingertip, just holding tightly.

She sighed slowly. "That feels incredible," her eyes closed in enjoyment.

"Good," his breathe calming, but still deep. "Hang tight, I'll get a towel."

Cara heard his weight shift off the bed, and the soft movements as he grabbed a hand towel from the bathroom. She lay on her side, her legs pressed together, bent at the knee. As he approached her, leaning over, she let him glide the towel up the insides of both her thighs and then palm her again, the same as before, but with the towel in between their flesh. She was overwhelmed by his care, heady with his heat and warmth. As he straightened again and brushed the towel over himself, Cara took ahold of his wrist and pulled -- wanting him back down beside her. But he resisted and pulled away from her smiling.

"Oh no. Not quite yet sweetheart," leaving over to plant a kiss on her lips.

He had also brought two robes from the bathroom -- in signature Hotel Monaco animal print. He put a black and white zebra print on himself and left the spotted leopard on the bed for her. Then he moved to the foot of the bed where the room service cart had been parked. She heard the determination and desire in his voice as her mouth dropped open to his commandment...

"I'm gettin a snack. Cause then you're going for round 2."



Hungry Like The Wolf Ch. 02



Cara had just been thoroughly fucked.

And now he'd told her to get ready for more. Hell yea, she thought. He was intoxicating. She ached for him. In the time since college, she had forgotten what it felt like, but one hour of pool was all it took to have her enamored with him again. Taking the step she'd never done before had suddenly felt inevitable. It also felt fucking amazing.

Cara looked around his hotel suite. The clock read 10:15pm. She needed to be up by 7am and at the conference podium by 9:30am. But lying curled on his bed, spent of energy, was too heady of a feeling to make her move. 

After retrieving robes, Tom had left the bathroom light on. Wrapped in the plush cotton, he turned on a side table lamp and approached the room service cart, and then began uncovering plates. Cara propped her head on one hand and watched.

She saw fruit, crackers and wedges of cheese, nuts, olives, a small tureen, and a plate with tiny chocolate cubes. There was also a bucket with the neck of a bottle sticking out and two glasses.

He pulled the bottle straight up, holding it in the air, letting cold water drip back into the ice. He stood still, looking Cara up and down...roving slowly over her bare knees, calves, unpainted toes, back up to the sash she'd tied around her waist and finally to her neckline which gaped open just enough to show off a freckle on her left breast. The Hotel Monaco would be proud of how well their leopard robe was flaunting itself, he thought.

"Ok. Drink first. You thirsty?" he quizzed.

She smirked teasingly. "Wow. I didn't take you for a champagne guy."

Tom unwrapped the foil and was twisting the wire cage off.  "I'm not. It's prosecco actually. But its good....and it's even better with the cheese."

After popping the cork gently, he poured some and leaned over to hand her a glass. "And I bet you'll like it."

Cara sat up, kneeling at the end of the bed, and took the fluted glass from him. As he poured the second glass, she tipped hers forward gesturing a toast and eyed him with satisfaction.

"To the sexiest guy I've ever known."

He looked surprised for a fleeting moment, and then smiled crookedly, "I'm workin' on it."

Cara took a sip, letting the bubbles pop along the roof of her mouth. The wine was dry and crisp and faintly fruity going down her throat.

"That's pretty good," she admitted.

"Here...," as he held a slice of cheese gently between thumb and middle finger.

She bit into the rich pecorino, rolling the creamy sourness along her tongue. Then another sip from her glass. He was right.

"Mmm," she murmured, blinking very slowly and shaking her head.  "How do you know this shit?" She bit into the cheese again.

"I don't," he said flatly. "I stole it. Coworker of mine did one of those organized bike tours of Tuscany or something. He came back raving about this stuff. Sounded like a pompous ass.  But he paid for drinks one night after work and ordered it. I had to admit it wasn't bad."

Tom propped himself against the bureau which was next to the service cart. "So I wanted to have some good food with you."  The corners of his mouth curled a bit more. "That and get you drunk on prosecco."

Cara laughed. The two beers from the lounge downstairs had worn off, but the new bubbles were quickly making her light-headed.

"Don't even think about it! I'm presenting the intricacies of media relations in corporate event planning at precisely 9:31am tomorrow morning. And I am not doin' it hung over."

He knew she was an event planner – and the national conference was in Chicago for two days. But they hadn't talked about it much. He reached forward for a flatbread cracker.

"So what events do you do? What's your talk about?"

"I don't do weddings," she said quickly and firmly. "Non-negotiable." He could tell that it wasn't the first - or even hundredth – time she'd made the assertion.

"But a lot of EP's do," she continued, shrugging. "They like to handle parties... personal events. I just can't stand the emotional mess at those things.
I do corporate. Sales meetings, annual meetings, executive summits, possibly retreats depending on how serious they are."

He frowned quizzically. "How serious they are?"

"Yea, like, if they're having a working retreat with meeting times, team bonding, goal setting, etc." She took another sip from her glass. "If they're just having a day of golf and 10 minutes of annual recap...no thanks. I learned my lesson at a thing for a small financial firm. Luxury resort, spouses were invited. There was supposed to be morning and afternoon meetings but once the CFO left on day one, they scrapped almost everything and had me scheduling pedicures and cognac tastings."

"They whined about the pillows, the lack of cigars, the weather, anything...." She laughed through her nose. "Speaking of pompous assholes... Anyway, I swore I'd never do that again – even for corporate."

Tom bit into an olive. "So you don't have asshole clients?"

Cara put a foot on the carpet and reached forward for a cracker. She nodded gently. "I do. But if they're serious about their event, I deal with it. I usually have bigger companies – mostly from Portland...construction, lumber. Sometimes the big guns like HP or Nike or Columbia Sportswear. Whenever Nike does an annual meeting, the press wants a piece of that. I handle the venue and A/V within the meeting - like vendors to do the big screen video projection....and then also press access after the meeting where the top execs might do a round of TV news interviews. Satellite uplink or VYVX fiber...everything. I make them look and sound good. First for their employees...then for the press." She took a bite of cracker.

"I bet you do." He was watching her intently.

Cara felt like she'd talked too much already. But his interest was flattering. Talking to him was energizing her.

"You meet some high powered men, I bet." Cara heard a question mark lying underneath.

She took a sip of prosecco. "I do. They're not bad with having a woman give them orders. Especially on the media stuff. They're usually out of their element on satellite interviews so they tend to listen. The lumber companies are pretty much Old Boys Clubs, so not as comfortable with me."  She shrugged with a sigh. "But the IT and retail firms are more progressive. Their execs are pretty respectful....and thankful."

Finally, Cara answered the question hidden in his previous comment. "Senior execs all have very closed circles. I'm never allowed in."

She smiled, shaking her head and taking a final sip.  

She reached over and set her empty glass on a nightstand. "No more bubbles."

She readjusted the leopard robe, tightening it around her waist, and then crossed her legs again on the bed. She cocked her head, watching his hands pick grapes off a small bunch.

"What about your client?" she quizzed. "You said you were here for a partner?"

Tom swallowed the fruit and rested his hands on the sides of the bureau.

"Yea, my firm does IT consulting.  We have a partner here in Chicago that does implementation – boots on the ground type of thing. I'm here to talk with them about some internal legal stuff and also to train them on a new way to do software deployments for our clients."

He drained his glass and filled it again with more of the sparkling wine. Then he strolled to the nightstand and filled Cara's glass as well before handing it back to her.

She smirked, looking up through her eyelashes. "You're a bad influence."

Tom raised his eyebrows. "I should hope so," he agreed, curling the corners of his mouth.  He turned and sat on the bed next to her, still holding the bottle. 

Cara caught the musky scent of him.  She leaned back on an arm watching him.

"So is that what you do? Deploy software?"

"No. I manage a team that does it. I'm fairly technical, but I focus on the client relationship. Then I hire the really geeky tech guys to handle the software."

Tom watched her take a sip from her glass. Her body language seemed shy but she held his gaze.

His eyes burned into hers.  "You're so unbelievably sexy."

Cara smirked and dropped her head breaking their eye contact. Then looked up again at him thru her lashes.

"How long are you here?" he quizzed.

She wanted to say "As long as you'll have me," but answered broader. "Till Wednesday. Noon.  And you?"

"Thursday. Unless I need to see some clients in addition to the partner. There may be one I have to wine and dine on Thursday night. When is your conference over?"

"My talk is tomorrow morning but I need to listen in on some of the afternoon sessions. And then a cocktail hour with some high level EPs at 4pm. But Tuesday is it. They do coffee and rolls Wednesday morning more as a sendoff – nothing official."

He paused, his soft gaze scanning her face, her neck, her shoulders. "Can I see you tomorrow night?"

Cara smiled shyly. "After my cocktail thing. Yeah." She took two sips from the glass in her hand.

Tom already wanted her again. He brought his free hand up and palmed the back of her head as he leaned in. He kissed her softly, tasting sweet prosecco on her breath. First her top lip, then the bottom one. She rested the glass on her thigh. Then she reached up with the other hand, grasping the back of his shoulder, feeling muscle under the soft zebra robe.

"Hang on," she whispered against his mouth, feeling just the tip of his tongue dart out to caress her front teeth.  "No spilling...," as she tried to move the glass in her hand.  He kissed her again, pulling her head tighter against his mouth. She gripped his shoulder for balance.

With considerable effort, she broke away from him, reached for the bottle in his hand and stood up. Placing the bottle and glass onto the nightstand, she turned back and then noticed the small tureen again still sitting on the cart.

She took one step past him. "What's this?" motioning to the gold syrup inside.

Tom watched her hips move under the tie of the robe. "Don't know." Why the hell did she care, he wondered. "I asked for cheese and fruit. Must be a standard platter off the menu." He began to move off the bed toward her.

Cara reached a pinkie finger out, dipping it gently onto the surface of the viscous liquid. Then she looked him right in the eye and put it into her mouth, sucking slowly. Tom took another step toward her, his gaze blazing. He saw her eyes light up and a smile touch her mouth as she pulled her finger free from her lips.

"What is it?" Now he was right in front of her at the foot of the bed. He saw a wicked gleam creep across her face, and her chest rise and fall with her breathing.

"I'll show you," she murmured putting a hand onto his chest and pushing slightly, making him sit back on the end of the bed. "Scoot back."

Tom moved until his legs were also on the bed and then lay back onto his elbows, watching her. She held the tureen in one hand and a spoon in the other. Dipping the bottom half of the spoon into the golden cup, she twirled it as it came out and then brought it to her mouth, wrapping her lips around the spoon and then pulling it free. She kneed slowly up onto the bed and with a thigh on either side of his, crawled on her knees up to him. Half sitting onto his hips, she felt him slide his hands up her legs and then hold her at the thighs.

"Baby, what are you doing?" he breathed heavily. Her steamy gaze roamed over him.

She leaned forward and kissed him full and open on the mouth, sliding her tongue right alongside his. He grunted deeply at the taste of her. Honey. Her mouth was coated in the warm, gooey sugar. The stickiness covered his tongue. He smelled it on her breath as she drew back and then came at him again, pushing inside his mouth.  He leaned back onto the pillows and brought both hands to her face, thumbs along her ears while his fingers combed into the back of her hair. He swallowed – honey and saliva and Italian wine. He was drinking dessert.

"OH shit, that's sexy," he growled as she kissed his cheek, licking along his jaw line.

"Didn't you know?" she whispered into his ear.

"I had a guess. I want some more."

She smiled, moving down, kissing his neck, his throat, his chest...nuzzling the hair with her nose.

Tom was lying prone but partially propped by two large pillows so he could watch her every move.  The zebra robe had opened almost to his waist, exposing his chest and the trail of hair disappearing below his navel. Cara's auburn strands fell around her face, the silkiness caressing him as she moved.

She sat up again and dipped the spoon a second time. His hands fell back to her hips, rubbing circles on them. This time, she brought out a small dollop of honey and dripped it onto his right nipple before leaning down and wrapping her mouth around it. Tom squeezed his eyes shut, groaning at the sensation. She sucked at him, then licked, then sucked again. His nipple hardened, tight and sensitive.

She rose again to dip the spoon a third time and felt his cock growing under her, nestled in her crotch, with pieces of the robe preventing skin-on-skin. She twirled the spoon and then moved it forward to let honey fall in a tiny stream along his stomach and into his navel. Then with the spoon back in the tureen, she placed her open hand on the side of his chest and scooted down slightly....leaning forward to lick along his abdomen. Dipping her tongue in and out of his navel, cleaning him of the stickiness. Tom rested a hand on the side of her head and the other on the sheets.

Seeing her move lower and lower on him turned him unbearably hard. Cara sucked and kissed at his stomach. Then she rose and using her right hand, tugged at the sash encasing his body. She was straddling his lower thighs, but leaning forward so her breasts teased at his groin, his balls, his throbbing cock as she laid her body forward and down onto him. His robe slid open and the full length of him pushed up against her. She blinked, soaking in the vision of him...the thick veins and velvety skin, the bulging tip, the dark layer of hair floating around the base. She reached for him, wrapping soft fingers around his length... still with the bowl of honey in her other hand. Tightening her grip at the pinky, right at the base of him, she drew her hand up slowly, finally rolling her thumb along the tip, feeling a drop of pre-cum lubricate her skin.

Tom groaned, flexing his hips ever so slightly into her touch. He watched her hand glide back down and then squeeze gently and move up along his length. She pulled at him, guiding the tip of him to just brush against her nipple before sliding her hand and starting again. She blinked and then looked him in the eye as she moved with him. He watched her breathing, mouth slightly open, as she rocked slowly.

She whispered, "You look delicious..."

Tom sighed, his breathing heavy.

"Unnhhhhh, I want your mouth on me so bad."

Cara smirked, her lips pouting. "I have a new recipe to try," she said coyly.

He blinked slowly, smiling. "Really? You recommend it?"

She was already moving, dipping the spoon, letting it hover over him.

"Well, I think so. I'm ad libbing a bit."

The honey hit his cock, cool and thick, as she circled a tiny stream of it around the tip and finished with a long sticky line down his length.  Then she bent over. She sucked the top third of him into her mouth, tasting the heady combination of his saltiness and the sweet honey. She sucked hard and swallowed and then eased up and ran her tongue in a circle around the ribbed edge of his tip.

Tom grabbed the sheets with one hand and held the back of her head with the other...wrapping her hair into his fingers...pushing gently to keep her down on him.

"Oh, Jesus, baby...." His chest moved heavily. "My compliments....to the chef....."

He felt her smile against his cock and then tighten her lips again, moving up and down along him. Her mouth came all the way to the end and off, leaving him uncovered and cold. But then he felt her tongue licking along his shaft, cleaning him of the long drip that has oozed its way down to the base. She licked him again, like ice cream. 

"Mmmm...you're so good." She licked again. 

Her hand wrapped around him again as her mouth covered the top of him and began an unholy rhythm of stroking and squeezing and sucking. Tom glanced down along his chest....her hair fanned along his hips....her leopard robe open and puddled around his thighs....her hand and mouth moving together, up and down...

He tipped his head back, closing his eyes, relishing the tightening, the throbbing.

"Ohhhh..... Oh yeah sweetheart... Oh God ....... Unnnnnhhhh...."

He laid both hands on her head, feeling her rapid movements.

She slowed briefly and then pulled her mouth up and completely off of him again. When her hand left him as well, he opened his eyes, almost angry at the secession of her stroking. 

He breathing was hard. "Oh, baby..... Please," he pleaded.

Cara was already putting a small spoonful of honey in her mouth and then she leaned forward to set the tureen on the night table. As she slid back over top of him, her breasts caressed down his chest, his stomach, and then into is right hand which cradled her and squeezed gently. He drew his other hand down her smooth back, fingers splayed over the dip of muscle in the middle.

Without dropping eye contact with him, she wrapped her fingers around him again and opened her mouth to his swollen tip. The warm honey slid across him...mixed with her saliva, it dripped around his swollen cock.

Tom held her breast in his hand, filling his whole palm and rolling her nipple back and forth.

Cara whimpered from his stroking but moved her hand and mouth in unison, squeezing and licking him, sucking harder, moving faster against him.

Tom groaned, the urgency rising again...his hips moving with her.  He could feel the honey coating him, her lips wrapped strongly around him, and the movement of her tongue lapping the honey away.

This wasn't going to take very long and he knew it.

"You can pull harder baby. Don't be gentle."

She reacted immediately, tightening around him, sucking harder at the tip. Her hand moved faster and he felt her shoulders rocking against him.

"Oh, baby......where do you want...?"  It was getting harder for him to talk...to string a sentence together.

"Can I....cum in your mouth?"  He picked up his head to look at her, but squinted his eyes, collapsing again.

She didn't stop but hummed, "mmmm hmmmm" to his question.

God help him, he was going to do just that. He held her breast tighter with one hand and the top of her head with the other...coaxing her to continue.

"Oh, God....."  He was tight and hot and he wanted to just explode inside her mouth.

"Unnnhhhhhh....Oh......Oh ....... I'm gonna cum baby...... ohhhhhh...."

Tom flexed, his stomach going rock hard as he grunted loudly. He pushed with his hips, thrusting at her.  

"UUUUnnnnnnhhhhh..... Ahhhhhhhhhhh...... Ohhhhhh Goooooooooooddd......" through gritted teeth, everything clenching inside him.

Cara's throat filled with his hot, sticky, cum. She swallowed once and sucked at him again, rolling her hand along him, milking him.  She could still taste the honey but now with a salted creaminess.  She swallowed once more and sucked her lips up and off the top of him, her hand still rubbing him, pushing a stream of cum up and on to his stomach, then another covering her hand, before softening her fingers and gently holding him. She relished the sounds of him groaning deeply, crying out with a breathless sigh.

She twisted, laying half on him and half on her side....her head resting along his arm. She still held him gently in her hand, snug but without stoking. She watched his chest rise and fall, matching her heavy breathing.

Tom opened his eyes halfway and tipped his head, looking down at the woman cradled along his side.




Hungry Like The Wolf Ch. 02



"Oh...you're just...unbelievable."

Cara looked up at him and then smiling, she buried her face against his rib cage. She moved her wet hand across his stomach, and then to her robe, wiping it against the fabric.

"You were right. That's a damn good recipe." He couldn't help smiling.

She giggled and reached back around his torso, hugging him, as she slid a thigh a little further over the top of his. Her robe still clung to her shoulders but was completely open, her naked body pushing against his. Tom's hands slid under her arms and pulled gently, drawing her up higher alongside him. Her head nestled in his shoulder and her leg still draped over his, her foot playing gently with the calf of his opposite leg.

"You ordered that on purpose didn't you?" she asked accusingly.

He frowned briefly and then shook his head chuckling. "I really didn't." The corners of his mouth turned up more. "But it's the best fucking cheese platter I've ever had."

Cara laughed out loud as he kissed her on the top of the head. The arm pinned underneath her was holding firmly along her back, but his free arm reached over to the bottle on the nightstand. He took a long drink, right from the bottle, and then offered it to her. She savored the taste of him in her mouth, but she sat up slightly and sipped at the bubbles....the cool sweetness a nice contrast.

Tom's eyes roamed over her naked torso. 

"Drink again," he commanded.

"I did. I'm dizzy."

"Drink."

She paused, looking into his gaze, and then took another deep swallow from the bottle. It was nearly gone as Tom took the bottle back from her. He was propped on his elbow, his broad shoulders looming over her as she eased down onto her back.

"You didn't think we were done did you?  You haven't had round two."

Cara's eyes widened, but then narrowed as she smiled.

Tom took the last sip and placed the bottle on the nightstand. Then he leaned over her and kissed her hard, prosecco running from his mouth into hers. Cara moaned into his lips, running her hands up his arms to the backs of his shoulders.

It was now her turn to swallow dessert. His mouth twisted over hers, pulling at her bottom lip, his tongue gliding along the tip of hers and then pausing before reaching out to caress it again. His hand slid to the back of her head, threading into the soft hair. It was maddening how she turned him on. He'd cum twice with her tonight and he still wanted to lick every part of her body.

He held her head to his as he rolled more of his weight on top of her. She was kissing him eagerly, driving her tongue inside his mouth, then pulling away to nip at his lips before pushing into him again. He felt the fullness of her breasts along his chest, and the tickle of curled hair right at his hip bone.

He wanted more than that sweet little mouth.

Laying kisses along her neck and chest, Tom worked his way to each of her nipples, sucking them into a hard wetness that left her panting. He knew she liked that. He could feel the heat rising across her body and the faint sheen of sweat in the soft valley between her breasts.

He brought his hands to either side of her chest, running his palms under each breast until his fingers opened around them, pushing them high and round. And just as he kissed lower along her abdomen, he squeezed her nipples and she cried out.

"Here baby. You do it." He picked up her hands in his and brought them back to her breasts, rolling and caressing them with her hands under his. Cara leaned back and closed her eyes, continuing to move over and around her chest as he drew his hands away.

"That's it," he breathed deeply. "God, that's hot. Keep going sweetheart. Whatever feels good."

Tom bent his head again and licked around her navel as his hands slid lower across her hip bones and down to the insides of her thighs. He could hear her begin to sigh and moan with each exhale.

With his lips on the top of her thigh, he brushed his fingers thru the curly locks between her legs. She was neatly trimmed, with a clean line on either side.

"Ohhhh...you're so soft." Tom inhaled the musky scent of her.

She was still rubbing her breasts with both hands as she giggled lightly thru her nose.

"What?," he quizzed lazily, rubbing his nose thru her fur.

She hesitated and then said quietly, "I condition."

"You what?" 

Her words were relaxed and drugged. "Ummm...when I wash my hair....I use conditioner. Everywhere."

It was his turn to chuckle. "Nice." And as he said it, the fingers on her thighs tightened slightly and his thumbs pushed into her crease, slipping over her skin and sinking into warm wetness.

Cara gasped and arched her back into his touch.

"Unnnhhhhhh......"

He slid his thumbs out and back into her three times before lowering his head right over her clit and sucking it into his mouth.

She cried out louder this time. "OH God....."

Tom removed one thumb and sucked it hard into his mouth. She was tangy, earthy, sweet. 

"God baby, you taste like...nectarines." 

His breathing was hard again as he looked up at her. His other thumb still moving slowly inside her. "Do you trust me?"

She paused, lifting her head, one hand sliding to her stomach. 

"Yes," she whispered.

"Good."

Tom pushed up just enough to grab the empty bottle from the night stand. He put the whole end in his mouth, licking the neck of it. Then he stroked at her pussy with his free hand, parting her lips, watching them glisten with wetness. He brought the bottle to her and teased her clit with the cool glass. She flinched, but sighed, as he pushed it one inch inside her.

"Oh geeze," she murmured in surprise.

He pushed again, but then pulled it out right to the end and rubbed it along her clit.

"Is that ok?" He licked his lips. "Do you like that?"

The bottle moved slowly, forward and backward, inching further inside.

"God, yeah. Oh.....It's so hard, and smooth, and...."

He watched her close her eyes and relax her head to one side.

"Have you used a bottle before?"

He tipped the bottle up so the neck caressed her clit on each stroke. He felt her hand come down onto his shoulder, her fingers gripping into muscle.

"Nooooo...," she moaned.

He moved gently, pushing a few inches of the bottle inside her but speeding the rhythm of his hand. He slid his other hand right over her wet pussy, thumb brushing against her clit and finger splayed across her groin. His eyes roamed between her hand massaging a hard nipple and that gorgeous cunt swallowing the top of his Italian wine.

She was utterly pliant, her right thigh pulling high and out...completely open to him. More of her body began to squirm underneath him. Her back arching as he added more pressure to his hand movements.

He tipped the bottle back down slightly and pushed harder, burying the whole neck inside her. The glass glistened with her wetness. His bicep flexed at the work of moving the large bottle faster and faster.

He felt her thighs tightening as her hand grabbed at his shoulder, his back, his neck.

"Oh fuck....God Tom, don't stop..."

It was such a turn on to hear her breathing deep and fast, begging him, grabbing for him.

"That's it sweetheart. Do you feel that? Do you feel me rubbing you? Do you feel me inside you?" He was getting hard again with the sight of her laid out before him.

"Uhhhhhnnn......Yeeeahhhh.......Ohhhhhhh......"

"What do you want baby?"

She was still rolling her nipple in one hand, squeezing the end of it. "More.... Oh God...... More...."

"I'm gonna taste you when you cum, baby. I'm gonna taste you and suck you and..."

"OH GOD......Ohhhhhh....." Cara was almost faint with sensation, her whole body tight and shaking. Her head rolled on the bed, eyes closed, as she focused every breath on the shattering feeling he was creating inside her. She felt his thumb slide on the soft lips of her pussy, holding them, exposing her to him.

"Ohhhhh..... I want you inside me....Uhhnnnnnhhhh......I need......Ahhhhhhhhh......Please......"

Tom's hot breath rolled over her open legs. "I'm right here," he whispered.

Then he pushed the bottle deep inside her and lowered his face, covering her with his mouth.

Cara came unglued. 

She screamed, grabbing his upper arms with both hands and thrusting into his face. Tom removed the bottle and plunged his tongue inside her. Hot, pulsing muscles tightened around his tongue, pulling on him. She cried out again, wrapping a lower leg around his back. He dropped the empty bottle to the floor and held her ass in his hands, rocking her into his mouth. He could still taste the prosecco, mixed with her lemony wetness.

She squealed again, tightening her thighs along his ears. "OH god.......OHhhhhhhhhh......Ohhhhhhhhhh."

He felt her hands run through his hair, pulling on him. He slid his hands completely under her bottom, her skin soft and slick with sweat. Pulling a knee up, gave him leverage to hover over her, licking her from the bottom to the top of her swollen sex.

"Oh my God....wha are you doin to me....," she murmured.

He licked once more and then buried his nose in her navel, kissing the delicate skin below it.

"Mmmmm... you're so good. Just to feel you pull on me like that....."

"Oh God.......," she shuttered, breathing heavily.

Tom pushed his hands up her rib cage, kissing as he went....her stomach, chest, the valley between her breasts. She giggled gently, still breathing deeply.

He sucked at the nipple she had been holding and she moaned again, flexing at the hips.

Then he drew the full length of his body up alongside her and threaded an arm under her neck and shoulders, curling her into him. She held his jaw softly in one hand and kissed him full on the mouth...breathing in the scent of him, tasting herself on his tongue.

"You are.....amazing," she whispered into his mouth. 

Tom reached next to her and grabbed at the duvet. He pulled it up to their waists and then wrapped both arms around her again.

Cara felt the drowsiness of love making, and alcohol, and the late hour creep into her. He was safe and strong, his warm breath at the top of her head.

She felt the rumble in his chest as he spoke...

"So I feel like asking if you're seeing somebody. But I'm not sure I want to know."

Tom could feel her body relaxing against him, her curves molding to his warmth. 

"No... No. I work 60 hours a week. And when I'm not there I'm either at the gym or fixing the house." She laughed gently through her nose. "1962 rambler...and I have to remodel every frickin' inch of it. No, I don't see anybody."

Cara paused quietly, wondering if he would answer his own question. But she realized she really didn't care. It just didn't matter what was waiting for him. This was a bubble – her bubble with him – and it would pop once he was gone. But there was nothing to bother them until that happened and she intended to enjoy it that way.

Tom sensed the quietness from her. "I, um..."

"No." She slid her hand higher up his chest. "It doesn't matter either way. I'm just going to lay right here, doing exactly this for the next...however long I can."

His arms came tighter around her.

"Good."

Cara yawned, and then sighed. "But you better the hell wake me up by 7am."

Tom chuckled and kissed her.



Hungry Like The Wolfgirl



SS48: "Hungry Like The Wolfgirl" 

*** 

This is an experiment, something a little different and unique. Seemed an interesting idea to play with. Now and then I like to toss a non-real-life, other-worldly fantasy story in with the others to keep alive the sense of wonder, and to indulge my fascination with myth and magic. Otherwise, this will be very much like my regular lesbian stories—but that is worth mentioning here in the intro. As much as I would like to categorize this in LS, it's under Sci-Fi/Fantasy, also my first Sapphic Sci-Fi work. Of course, when you create Sci-Fi, you run the risk of setting off the "campy" meter, so I'll try to keep it less than embarrassingly campy. 

I was thinking of calling this story "Beauty And The Beast," but besides the fact that that's just a little unoriginal, I didn't care for the way they portrayed the canine creatures in that (the Disney) film—or the similar way they did so in The Sword In The Stone, either, by the way. This story is lovingly dedicated to one Reader of mine in particular, and I am sure she knows who she is. 

*** 

January 5th, 9:27 a.m. 

Dawn broke to the latest in a series of foggy, drizzly skies. Frosty dew collected in the grassy yards and meadows. The normally frigid Midwestern early January temperature sat steady at 33°—though the windchill factor made it feel about 33° colder—just barely warm enough to keep the rain from crystallizing. It was a cold, wet Monday, unfortunately just the sort of day that would always get Karen Carpenter down. Fortunately, she did not live in this city. 

Also fortunately, lots of citizens liked the natural showers—some even enjoyed the dreary downcast cloudiness—and those who didn't enjoy the rain enjoyed their cars, homes and umbrellas. Lots of traditional weekday nine-to-fivers were already snug in the cozy shelter of their heated office buildings; those to be found in other milieus had yet to be on the job. 

This morning saw traffic moving at a snail's pace, drivers proceeding with extra caution through the precipitation and heavy fog. Some daily commuters would be a bit late into work today, including one lass whose destination sat on the geographical border between the city's downtown metropolis and the quiet suburbs. 

A healthily bundled up Adia Zuri Bethwell had her windshield wipers and defroster hard at work, making her way to her own occupation. She sang along with the radio to distract herself from the chill. When she got to work, she found a parking space far too easily and pulled in. Not to question meteorological policies, but she had to admit she was a bit stymied why exactly the Juniper Zoo was regularly open for recreation during these, some of the soggiest, messiest days she'd ever seen, but she didn't let such details bother her. This zoo could afford activity on days with less business, as its financial dues were funded by the local chapter of the wildlife society, and while on duty but without a rush of visitors and guests to tend to, Adia could essentially be paid to sit in her booth and read, cyber-network, or simply look through the glass and daydream, letting the world go by. 

Oh, there wasn't normally a wealth of downtime to enjoy these leisurely projects—in and around ticketing guests, a number of in-booth tasks also required completing, and on weekends, the place could get downright hectic, really living up to its name—but days like this, with only sporadic business drummed up, Adia could almost get to feeling bored. But she never complained; she always felt she should be thankful to just have a job, and such a fun place to get to come to work. Everybody liked the zoo. Everyone enjoyed meeting and documenting their encounters with exotic animals they didn't see every day. And so as a result, Adia met collections of folks, with cameras and iPads and such in tow, in what were overall happy, excited moods. The only individuals who seemed exasperated were parents of rambunctious small children who wanted to see and have bought for them everything in sight. The zoo also boasted an additional bonus not all zoos offered: a series of stands where children were given complimentary balloon animals. 

Adia Bethwell had grown up always fascinated and enamored of nature and animals, especially creatures only indigenous to certain regions, which made the zoo a perfect place for her to call home number two. She loved it here so much, she wished she didn't have to work so she could enjoy free time with patrons, partaking in studying their nonhuman friends. And she did get to do so semi-regularly, as staff members were rotated to given exhibits to host presentations for zoogoers. So there was an upside and a downside to lesser turnouts on days like this. The upside was the added paid free time to relax and take nice breathers while awaiting visitors. The downside was that with such a sparse gathering, it wasn't really considered "worth it," as it were, to give presentations. 

Working at the zoo itself, and just having a zoo, had its own pro and con. While the animals were encaged, only able to pursue impulses to roam and meander to a certain point, the pro was the nurturing, breeding atmosphere of the zoo, which did its utmost to preserve and keep any and all animals from going extinct. The first time Adia learned of extinction, it made her feel heartbroken. She hated it when any such things that meant something to her met an end. She didn't even like the idea of a store going out of business where she and her parents used to shop. The whole feeling was cold and abandoning. It made her sad and a little scared. 

She didn't think she needed to worry about that happening to the Juniper Zoo, however. She had a job she loved, and job security. These weren't articles of inanimate merchandise that could be relegated to the secondhand pawnshops once upgrades came along. These were God's creatures: beautiful living, breathing beings of nature. Adia hung with the dozens of mammals, birds, fish, pachyderms and insects by day, and returned to her little pals at home by night. She kept two pets, both girls, at the shared age of four years old: a white Persian cat named Bingo and a Dalmatian named Checkers (as a tribute to another of her hobbies, games). It was questionless that Adia had nonhuman companionship made in the shade. 

Another area of her life, however, was a very different story. 

Every day, Adia greeted guests at the zoo from all walks of life. Hardly anyone attended solo. Occasionally, a group of friends came together, but the majority of parties consisted of couples and families, many with children in tow. And while Adia was thrilled to see as many at the zoo as wished to put in an appearance, the endless pattern of significant others lingered more and more on her mind as time went by. Adia was 31, single, gay, and growing lonesome. She very much wanted a nice, pretty woman in her life. 

Adia'd spent most of her 20s enjoying the free, unattached life, relishing her independence and liberty to do, think, speak and be as she pleased. She knew from an early age she was attracted to girls, but should she decide to court, she was unsure where to meet them. She'd let a friend take her to a bar once or twice before, but the atmosphere intimidated her. It just wasn't her element. When a tall, tattooed, smoking hot girl approached and asked in a deep, lush voice if she'd like to dance, her remarkably sultry splendor intimidated Adia so much, she had almost wet herself. She politely declined with only the meek but honest truth that it was past her bedtime and her parents were waiting for her at home. She tried not to feel like a loser and still did, but she just wasn't ready for this. 

At the time, she'd felt the revelation of a curfew would persuade a predatory princess to cool her jets. Now, almost a decade later, she wondered if maybe she wasn't ready to try again. Things were different at this point: she was fully grown and had learned a few things about real adult life. There was no set schedule or restriction on her time, and she was supporting her own living in her own apartment. Perhaps it was time she give the bar scene another go, from the viewpoint of a single gal in her 30s, as opposed to that of the daunted young chick in her 20s. It still wasn't her ideal venue, but who knew what could happen. 

She found herself giving it more and more thought each day, the more happy pairs she admitted into the zoo. Even should she see a woman by herself, she still doubted making a connection. The truth was, sometimes she didn't like being a lesbian very much, for zero reason than the difficulty of meeting someone. While she knew it was inane, she felt like she was in the biggest minority in the world. She considered looking for someone online, but the prospect of Internet dating, while legit, struck her impersonal and shady. 

Oh well, she thought as the day wore on, perhaps she should just stop thinking about it so much. Maybe if she left it alone, the perfect girl might land right in her lap. And I don't think I'd mind that too much, she amused herself with a giggle. And her solitude didn't prevent her from fantasizing about the fun things she could do with any theoretical lady-friend who might come her way. 

And so Adia went about her day at the zoo like so many before. The Juniper Zoo normally stayed open until 6:00, though not many visitors came this late in the winter, when it began getting dark early. And Adia didn't stay the entire eight and a half hours every day, but Saturday helped her along to full-time. What was yet nicer was her privilege to have paid lunch on shorter days. Today she was to step off the clock at 3:30. She had her workmates to relieve her, though she hardly needed them. 

Six hours later, shift up, she slung her purse over her shoulder and trotted to the ladies' room. 

*** 

January 5th, 3:32 p.m. 

It had stopped raining about noonish, but the fog remained. Adia stepped back out from the restroom. She was still wearing her badge, which lived around her neck by day, and of course never allowed her to leave for work without coming along. If she ever forgot it, she would be sent back home to retrieve it. She slowed down her steps to root about in her purse for the keys. 

"Excuse me, Miss?" she heard a voice behind her. 

Adia looked up in the direction of the voice. When she saw the face that belonged to it, her brows arched and her lips slipped ajar. 

Addressing her was a beautiful woman, who was of indistinguishable age, yet looked not far from Adia's own, and carried the signs of one who wore an elder woman's clothes. Her skin was youthfully smooth, but comelily withered in the cold weather. Her eyebrows were very light, nearly invisible. Her eyes were very light blue, almost clear, almost...ice color, were there such a thing. Her lips were pale pink, bordering on lavender. Her nose was long and pronounced. She was relatively tiny at 5'3", a few inches shorter than Adia, sporting a slender build, modest breasts and a petite but strong figure. Her hands and fingers were equally thin, with subtle veins and long nails. She was clad in a gray sweater, denim jeggings and sneakers. Most remarkable of all, however, was that her sweater matched her hair. Her feathery locks were pure silver. Enigmatically, mystically, sublimely silver. Her appearance was at once so uniquely captivating Adia had to make an effort to shift back to her powers of speech and comprehension. Furthermore, she appeared to have popped right up from behind her. The restroom station was rounded in the back by a fence which separated this part of the zoo directly from the woods. She couldn't have been behind Adia in the ladies' room; it was a one-person lavatory. 

...Where had she just come from? 

"...Uh...yes? Yes, ma'am? May I help you?" 

The lady's brows cordially rose to meet Adia's. "How late is the zoo open today?" 

Adia didn't believe she'd ever met anyone who looked or sounded quite like this woman before. Her exotic beauty was matched by her roughly textured, scratchy but feminine voice. Had Adia not known better, she'd have thought this girl stepped right out of a dream she'd had one unplaceable night. Her tone was colorfully unusual, but her dialect was unmistakably Midwestern American. And when she spoke, Adia detected the presence of symmetrical fangs amidst her normal teeth. 

"Oh, it's open till six every day, seven days a week," Adia explained. "I know it may be a little misleading on days like this—there's hardly anybody here, after all—but yes, six o'clock. I'm about to leave right now, but just because my shift's over." 

"Oh, you are?" asked the mysterious silver-haired woman, whose real name was Christina. "Aw, why, that's a bit of a shame. I was wondering if I may ask you for...something in the way of a tour, perhaps?" 

Adia gazed at her a moment. She had to admit this was a kind of unorthodox request, but had this gentlewoman paid her way in, she was entitled to enjoy all the zoo had to offer. But less usual still, was she asking Adia for a tour personally? Or would she just like to be shown around by anyone? And what sort of tour did she have in mind? 

These questions bobbed up and down in Adia's mind, but were weighed down by the mere registration of this person's charismatic aura. Apparel aside, her long, silvery hair made her look like a fairy princess, or some such mythical entity. It already seemed an out-of-the-ordinary experience solely to encounter her. Adia didn't remember selling her a ticket at the booth. Still, it would be hard to miss such a rarity as this exquisite creature. Under normal circumstances, much as she loved being here at the zoo, Adia would be inclined to head right back home after her shift, now to kick back and take it easy. Yet, today... 

How strange, she thought. She knew less than nothing about this unique butterfly, had met her nary a minute ago, and was feeling an unexplained interest, almost a fascination, in her presence. Maybe it was her loneliness, maybe it was her whimsical mind or her loveful heart, maybe it was the little lady's pixielike beauty, maybe it was a bizarre trick played on her by the crisp weather. Whatever the circumstances, an inside instinct told her not to pass up this opportunity. Something about it all seemed very...special, somehow. 

"M—...you mean, me? You'd like a...uh, some kind of a...tour from me?" 

The silver dame batted her eyes. 

"Well, you're the first person I asked," she said, artfully skirting the question with a dash of coyness in her voice. 

Adia waited for more of an answer, which did not come. But she thought she detected something in the woman's shy demeanor which did the talking for her. Thinking she had her answer, Adia went on. 

"I see," she smirked, adding a soupçon of playfulness to her tone. "Well, my friend, fortunately, you happened to catch me on a light day, without anything else on my schedule. And...to be honest with you, I do spend a fair deal of time wishing I could be out and about, along with the other guests. So now that my shift's ended for the day..." She shrugged. "...Why not?" 

Christina brought her hands together with a single clasping clap. "Oh, marvelous!" she smiled. "I hoped you'd say yes, Adia." 

Adia's face morphed with surprise. "How'd you know my name?" 

The lady pointed her index fingers downwards, at the badge which hung at Adia's belly. "It's on your thingymabob." 

"...Oh." Adia closed her eyes, so the woman couldn't see her rolling them at herself. "Right." 

*** 

January 5th, 4:43 p.m. 

"And over here we've got our marsupials, many of which are native to the land down under, mate," Adia displayed, putting on a hint of an Australian accent. "Some of these mammals are among those we've been most fortunate to place in our care and preservation: the koala, the wombat, the possum, the bandicoot, up to and including the majestic kangaroo," she gestured to each. 

"They're all just so beautiful," said Christina. "Everything here is so beautiful." 

Adia smiled at her. She wasn't in the habit of giving complimentary tours, but she supposed she didn't have to think of this as one. She wasn't actively on the clock, so she could just think of this as two acquaintances walking around together and taking everything in, one of whom happened to know the zoo and its inhabitants like the palm of her hand. 

She had to admit, however, she felt a bit sheepish spending the greater part of an hour—and counting—showing around her workplace to this individual whose name she didn't even know. It was routine to do so with a whole crowd of folks, but she wasn't used to the one-on-one arrangement. She was looking for an excuse to bring up the subject as they continued on their way, but she remained intimidated by the dame's distinctive pulchritude. For now she was simply enjoying the company. 

"And, then over this way—" 

The silver fox, as Adia had begun thinking of her, gasped. 

"Wolves!" 

Her outcry was revelatory and euphoric, as if a strange and beautiful angel had appeared before her. Adia watched as the fascinated woman pranced in the direction of the gated pack. Adia made a self-admission of surprise, but she simply drew the speculative conclusion that wolves were the vivacious vixen's favorite animal. 

"Oh—oh, yes! Yes," Adia called, following after. "Our wonderful wolfpack. One dozen Carnivora Canidae, including the alpha parents. Unfortunately, while it's not exactly official yet, the gray wolves are now considered endangered, as are the Ethiopian ones. Y'know, at one time, a few different species of wolves inhabited the entirety of four different continents, including ours." 

"That's right!" said the silver fox. She approached the gate, eyeing one curious hound who was interestedly watching back. Adia viewed with equally piqued curiosity as the silver fox lowered herself into a squatting position. 

"Glorious, aren't they?" said Adia. 

"Magnificent." 

"Hey, did you know that when wolves are hunting for food, they can run up to—" 

"Thirty-eight miles per hour, yes!" Christina finished along with her. "And when they do catch food, they can eat up to twenty pounds of it at once. But that myth about them being dangerous and harmful, that makes me upset. We vilify them, and it really isn't very fair. They certainly don't blow down piggies' houses and dress up as children's grandmothers to eat them." 

What the girl who cried wolf did next, Adia didn't wholly understand, but chalked up to delightful whimsy. The silver fox lowered further from her crouch, rolling to her knees and placing her palms on the ground. She curled her fingers into the soft, wet dirt, and shifted forward, into a position that resembled child's pose. On all fours, she maintained eye contact with the wolf whose attention she had. Adia was perplexed, but amused that the silver fox didn't seem concerned in the least dirtying herself in the muddy earth. 

Christina narrowed her eyes, gritted her teeth, and emitted a small, quiet growl. This left Adia a bit more puzzled and intrigued, but she was no less than absolutely astonished by what happened next. The wolf stared intently another moment, before creeping closer and lowering, mirroring the silver fox's pose. It narrowed its eyes, and softly growled back. 

Adia's own eyes conversely opened wide. "Oh my God..." she mouthed. The remarkable woman actually seemed to be communicating with the attentive wolf. It reflected her mannerisms, and she its, as if they understood each other. Adia'd never seen anything like this before. Under normal circumstances, wolves would never come this close to the edge of their boundary to greet a human visitor. This silver fox must have been some sort of wolf whisperer. 




Hungry Like The Wolfgirl



"...Oh, wow," Adia began to comment, "I—" 

A louder growl cut her off. The woman seemed to be telling her to remain silent. Adia's brows arched as she stopped and backed up. What was more, this time the wolf did not growl back. It seemed to comprehend that this curt reprimand was meant for Adia. For her own part, Adia's intrigue wasn't dampened in the least by this dismission. Her astonishment remained great. She was practically mesmerized by this grand display. She could look nowhere else. 

Still on all fours, Christina wiggled her rump back and forth, as if she were a domesticated housepet in huntress mode. Again, to Adia's awestruck eyes, the wolf did just as she. It was a spellbinding performance, the rest of which consisted of subsequent murmuring and cautious closer approach, until the silver fox and the wolf were near enough to smell one another through the fence. Just when Adia thought she could be enchanted no further by this production— 

She howled. 

The furtive, elusive silver fox reared back, threw her face to the heavens, and unleashed a primal, feral howl. 

As Adia waited and half-expected to happen, the wolf followed suit. The dual, overlapping howl in turn captured the attention of the wolf's packmates. For a moment, Adia expected them all to howl, or to convene and scatter, or any number of results in succession, but their encounter was at an end. The silver fox and the wolf retreated and turned their backs on each other. 

"...Oh my G—...oh my God, that...th-that-that was astonishing!" Adia gushed in stunned wonder. "How did you do that??" 

"Oh," Christina clasped her hands together again. "I've always had something of a kinship with wolves." 

"Well, that's..." 

Adia's mind was utterly blown. She just...didn't know what to say. She felt...warmed, tickled, touched and dumbstruck, all at once. 

"My mind is utterly blown! I just...don't know what to say! I feel...warmed, tickled, touched and dumbstruck, all at once!" 

Christina smiled at her. Adia's heartbeat accelerated. Suddenly, she was glad the zoo was so empty today. She gathered courage. 

"You know, Miss, I'm a little embarrassed to ask this, and I'm not exactly sure how to go about it, but—" 

The silver-haired fox jumped in. 

"I'd love to." 

Adia's heart went turbo. She put her actions in order and demurely batted her eyes. 

"...What did you say your name was, my friend?" she cooed. 

"Christina. Christina Lyca. Call me...Christina." 

Adia took her hand and curtsied. "Lovely to meet you...Christina. And, you know, this...um...this may seem a little forward, but it is getting late. And, uh...could I...possibly interest you in a...delicious supper this evening?" 

Christina next did something a trifle unusual. She leaned in to the side of Adia's face, and sniffed her. She gave several sniffs, as if to properly determine Adia's unique scent. Adia found this strange, but endearing in a bizarre way. She giggled as the silver fox's nose tickled her cheek. Christina decided she was done sniffing and stepped back. The same bewitching smile crossed her face. 

"I couldn't be more pleased." 

*** 

January 5th, 5:26 p.m. 

It may have been a little early for dinner, but Adia was already pretty hungry, and Christina agreed that she could eat. She did not readily have transportation nearby, which puzzled Adia, but what with the privilege of driving them together and not having to break contact, she wasn't going to complain. She flipped on the heat and they continued the conversation on the way to the restaurant. 

"So do you come to the zoo often? I don't believe I've ever seen you before." 

"Oh...now and then." 

"Hm. Well, I absolutely love it there. I wanted to be a vet, but I wasn't that great academically. I could barely get myself through regular school, let alone animal med school. But I'm still super-passionate about animals. I have a dog and a cat at home." 

"Aw, how wonderful. Are you from here originally?" 

"Yes, I was born and raised here. You?" 

"I only ask because that's quite a unique name you have. Adia. It's very pretty." 

"Ah...well, thanks. Apparently, it means 'gift' in Swahili...and my middle name's Zuri, and that's supposed to mean 'beautiful.' My parents are from Kenya, they're big Swahili-speakers. And I'm their one and only kid, so they named me their 'beautiful gift.'" 

"Why, that's lovely!" 

"I...guess. Going through life with my name can be a different story. Especially thanks to a particular singer gal named Sarah McLachlan...with whom I've had a love-hate relationship ever since." 

"Oh, dear. I'm sorry I can't relate." 

"That's okay, I don't mean to take it out on you. Let's talk about something else. You like Italian?" 

"Yes, very very much. And I'm a quite fond of the food, too." 

"Ha! That's good! You're really witty!" 

"Thank you, I like me. I believe I like you too, Adia. You're sweet. And cute." 

"...You really think so?" 

"I do. You're quite a looker." 

"Oh—...well, oh my goodness, Christina, I... 

"Christina, is that your hand?" 

"Hmm?...Oh, what do you know, it is." 

"...Well, I...I must say, when I woke up this morning, I didn't anticipate holding hands with a silver fox taking her out for dinner." 

"And yet you are." 

"Hee hee...and yet I am." 

And yet I am! 

*** 

January 5th, 5:48 p.m. 

Adia took Christina to a secluded but popular Italian eatery called Venizzi's, concealed from citizens on the outskirts of town. It wasn't hard to find, however; it required only a short trip down one of the lesser used highways, leading out to the pasturelands. They both enjoyed veal dishes, so Adia went with the rigatoni con la pajata, and Christina the ossobuco in bianco. The waiter took their orders and menus, and they were left to enjoy each other's company. 

"So, Miss Beautiful Gift," smirked Christina, propping her elbows on the table and her chin on her hands, "Tell me 'bout'cha." 

Adia blushed and giggled. "Well, let's see..." she thought out loud, counting on her fingers. 

"My name is Adia Bethwell," she told her, "I'm single...I'll be 32 in May, I'm a lesbian...I'm single...I was unable to finish college, but lucky enough to get my job at the zoo...oh, I love dancing. I love music, and I love to dance—fast, slow...frug, limbo, robot, whatever. I like karaoke too, but dancing's more fun for me...let's see, what else, I'm...single...oh, I'm a big nature buff. Sometimes I like to go outside and do nothing but watch birds in trees and stuff. Oh, hey, that rhymed! How 'bout that, I'm a poet and don't even know it. Uh, I don't have any human kids, but I have my two little angels at home, my dog Checkers and my cat Bingo, they're just the lights of my life. And I gave them those names 'cause that's another thing I love, games. Board games, video games, you name it. You wouldn't believe how much time I've wasted." She chuckled. 

"Oh, and, uh, I'm not sure if I mentioned this before, but, I'm single." 

Christina smiled. "You don't say." 

"'S right," Adia nodded. "So tell me about Christina Lyca then; what should I know about her? Does she have a middle name?" 

"Nadia." 

"Very pretty. Anything else?" 

Christina kept smiling, though hesitant to open herself to Adia—or anyone, really. This was what made life so much more difficult and arduous for her versus someone else. Adia wasn't far off in speculating something out of the ordinary was going on at the zoo. 

Christina Lyca was born with what most would consider a curse on her. 

Plain and simply put, she was a lycanthrope. 

*** 

Thirty-five years earlier 

June 28th, 1980, 1:37 a.m. 

Three and a half human decades ago, an anomalous gray wolf puppy was born under a full moon in the northern Minnesotan hills. The anomaly was the unnatural lunar activity. The puppy was the only member of her own litter. And against one-in-a-trillion odds, it was not only a full moon. It was a supermoon. With a frequency of manifestation akin to that of Halley's Comet, the energies of the supermoon cosmically altered the states of galactic reality. For this one twenty-four-hour circadian cycle, literally anything was possible—including, but not limited to, the physical existence of the phenomenon known as the werewolf. 

When the lunar cycle resumed its normal phases, Christina's physical features morphed, and the newborn awoke the following day as a female human infant. The wolves' simple minds were confounded by the inexplicable transformation, but they possessed the instinct to realize the human infant and their pup were one and the same. So they took it into their pack and raised it as their own. Four weeks later, the next full moon occurred. As it mounted in the sky, its powers took hold of the baby's biological cycle, and before the eyes of her parents and packmates, she metamorphosed back into her lycanthropic state. 

She grew up raised by the wolves in the forest hills for a few years until being discovered, taken to the first in a series of homes and orphanages, named, and subsequently sent to school. Of course, the monthly full moon retained its power over her dual physical form, which was virtually impossible for anyone to explain, and did not further her situation. But she survived, and grew up. 

It was not possible for Christina to keep her secret from absolutely everybody, but she learned quickly to conceal it much as she could. A normal interest and fascination in the Carnivora Canidae was harmless, as was the claim that she had a kinship with them, like she'd told Adia. But as she grew into a woman and learned the "rules," she had to detect the next full moon early on—God bless the calendar—and find some way to get back to the hills before nighttime. 

The downside to her transformation was the fact that werewolves did not wear human outfits. Christina eventually learned that were she to let the metamorphosis take place while dressed, her wardrobe would literally go to pieces. So upon reaching the woods, she brought along a blanket, and once safe in the company of her pack, she removed her clothes, wrapped them, and let it happen. Imaginably, this was more desirable during certain times of year than others, but once she changed, her wolf coat protected her from extreme temperatures. And after a night of foraging, exploring, hunting and howling, she became human again and redressed. 

The rest of the time, now old enough to look after herself, she lived a more or less normal human life. She finished school, got a job, found a home, met people, dated, made friends, went shopping and purchased her own things. Before she knew it, she'd garnered an entire life and identity. Now that she began regularly associating with other humans, just as with Adia, her unique silver hair, canid features and mannerisms drew their share of attention. Again, like Adia, most folks saw it as innocuous quirkiness. 

Unfortunately, around the time she grew to the realization of all this, tragedy struck. Her canine parents died. The lifespan of the natural gray wolf was only about fourteen years. But she maintained her kinship with the species wherever in contact, and continued making her monthly pilgrimage to the hills. Lately, undergoing her metamorphosis, she began setting off on random expeditions through the woodlands to see where they took her. Before she knew it, the millennium passed, as did the following decade and a half. 

The most recent full moon to occur was on January 4th, 2015. Christina followed the same routine. Depending on time of year and her schedule, she sometimes had to rearrange things. She worked Monday through Friday at a very nice office, doing clerical work, which was humdrum, but paid well. She considered herself incredibly thankful for the opportunity, especially given the caveat she'd stated upfront at the initial interview. Unless there was a weekend involved, she required one day off every twenty-nine days. She dared not tell these employers the truth about herself. But lucky for her, this was also the approximate interval spanning something else which happened—not to Christina, but to normal human women—and so she was granted it. 

As a result, she always had free the days following her transformation, and did as she so pleased, both after and beforehand. And so she meandered the woods in a chosen direction she hadn't selected before to see where she ended up. It seemed something cosmic drew her a particular which way each time, but she never knew what it was until she got there. Most recently, she had ended up at the Juniper Zoo. She slunk her way up and over the fence, just behind the restroom, as Adia Bethwell was coming out. Her werewolf side was curious and fascinated by all the unique sights and smells to take in here, all this magic belonging to the animal kingdom. Her human side, naturally, was curious and fascinated by Adia. 

One month about fifteen or twenty years ago, she stayed in the wolves' woody lair an extra day, as her human self, and lay on her blanket naked, gazing into the sky. It was this specific evening she realized that the moon and its light energy held an additional, intense power over her. Though she couldn't explain it, as she stared at the moon, its lunar majesty hypnotized her. Her eyes were steadily fixed to it. A ray of moonlight seemed to travel to Earth, almost magnetically, and bathe her, infusing her with an unforeseen sexual passion. Small hints of pleasure began to melt her like wax. She moaned and laid her hands upon herself. 

Still young at the time, she didn't know how to masturbate. Nor was she infallibly in tune with her own physiology. All she knew was whatever was going on here tonight felt good. It felt wonderful. She fondled herself with her palms and fingertips. Supplemental doses of pleasure boosted her higher. Her back arched. Her head lolled. Her eyes closed. She automassaged at her face and worked her way down, centimeter by centimeter. It almost seemed the moon was guiding her hands. Once she'd gotten below her neck and shoulders, she let her fingertips continue to glide, inch by inch, until something particularly noteworthy happened. 

Her right hand wandered ahead of her left and brushed the ascent at the top of her right breast. She let out a quiet gasp. 

Oh, this was new. This was exciting. The now semi-familiar sensation of pleasure bestowed upon her multiplied. She eagerly sped the pace of her left hand to touch her left breast, to a lovely mirroring effect. Her dancing orbs bobbed as her body lurched and twitched at the jolts of goodness. It went without saying she wanted to squeeze every drop of awe and wonder from this experience she could. She didn't want to rush herself, but now she was growing exhilarated at the possibilities of what else might happen. 

She felt unfamiliar, but warm, splendid things happening to her body. Traces of perspiration appeared. Muscles flexed. Joints tightened. Her soft, puffy pink nipples perked and stiffened, erecting from their mounds. And a generating feeling of moisture trickled its way to the edges of her labia. She opened her eyes, feeling the wetness. Her pleasure was put on hold as her curiosity took over and her mind wondered what was going on now. For a moment, she thought she might have been tinkling. She was pubescent and had blossomed by this time, but hadn't groomed her bush. The dampness seeping through the mini-forest between her thighs tricked her mind into thinking she'd wet herself. But she hadn't. This felt different. It felt more...more...she didn't know. 

What she did know was she didn't feel these happy sensations just relieving herself. Perhaps she should see what happened if... 

There would be time, she told herself, resisting the urge. She was tempted, and oh, how she was tempted, but were there one thing she had right now, it was time. Now with these unknown but highly intriguing feelings racing through her, she wasn't the least bit tired, where otherwise she might have fallen asleep by now. 

She let her fingers trace aimless trails up the slope of her breasts, feeling the inner lust build as she neared the nipples. Her legs stretched on their own. Her feet flexed, curling and spreading her quivering toes. She enthusiastically waited, pacing her motion. 

As half-expected, when her fingertips brushed her nipples, the desirous passion multiplied yet again, flushing her body with heat and swelling her erogenous zones pink-red. "Ohhhh..." Christina growled, like the hungry wolf she was. She hadn't any technique just yet, so she smoothed her hands all over her chest to see what felt best. She pressed her nipples down, and they stood right back up. She was engrossed and delighted in this new phenomenon. 

A short while later, she worked up the courage to set off from her breasts and come back to them later. Her inner fire died back down a bit. But as she got below the waist, she grew excited once more as a new flare of something great and powerful cropped up inside her. Oh boy, oh boy, oh boy! she thought giddily. More fun to be found down here?? 

The moisture which had oozed forth from her vagina had stopped, but she hadn't forgotten about it. She eased under the pelvis to find more sensitive nerve endings activated. She trembled with zeal. Whatever this was, she had a hunch it was going to be big. 

Massaging her own legs and feet would require some more joint manipulation, and she'd deal with that later, if even necessary. For now she wanted to focus on the hairy spot where her natural dew had collected. As she snaked and slithered her fingers through it, the vaginal reaction from her bush alone sent a mindnumbing chill through her. Just as with discovery of the extra sensitivity contained in her breasts, she arched and stretched, yearning now to literally get to the bottom of this. 

Parting her legs further, she rummaged and fingered her wet bush and eagerly dug beneath. She could feel her heart beating hot and heavy in her chest. The moon continued guiding her hands. When she tunneled below to reach her skin, her fingertips grazed the slit bordered by her labia. She cried as the ecstasy hit her. Awestruck by such a sensation, she toyed with herself up and down, gingerly rubbing her puffing pussy lips, buffeted back and forth by lunar waves of pleasure. Her face went into a grimace as the torridity squeezed at her insides. She threw her head back and forth at the electric surges, tossing her silver hair all about. She never wished to cease this. She wished she could contort her body sufficiently to reach her pussy with her tongue. Her strokes sped and intensified as she applied more pressure and burrowed deeper, commencing to penetrate herself. 

A new level was unlocked. Christina gritted her teeth and shut her eyes so tight tears were coerced forth. She wanted as much out of each stage of this wondrous act as could be milked. She gradually inserted one digit, then another, then another. Her cunt secreted still more and more, caking her fingers in syrupy autolube. When she got underneath the surface and found the way inside herself, she could neither fathom nor withstand the explosiveness. Her reddened swollen pussy began lighting off a series of fireworks gradually increasing in power and velocity. She lost control of her body. She began wildly thrashing and flopping on the ground like a fish out of water. Shouts and groans ripped from her insides as the building steadily grew, sending her on her way. 

It was incredible. Christina had never felt the likes of this before, and never wanted it to end. It was primal, and animal. She plunged herself further and further, deep as she could reach, acquainting herself with the structure, texture and grandeur of her own sexual anatomy. She had all but forgotten about her breasts at this point, though her nipples remained stiff. She found the pelvic muscle to stimulate and clench down on her hand, radiating an even wilder burst of joy through her from head to toe. She whapped her heels in the dirt, growing less and less patient, waiting for...for...she still didn't know what. 




Hungry Like The Wolfgirl



But something real was definitely happening here. She couldn't hold back much longer to find out. She went on thrusting into herself, finally just far enough to hit her g-spot. Just when she thought the activity couldn't get any more mindblowingly volatile... 

She screamed. A hot, fiery scream of brain-spinning delirium. Whatever was happening wouldn't wait another moment. Something inside her, an instinct, told her she had to continue doing just as she was doing, and would be handsomely rewarded. She found clarity as the buildup reached closer and closer to its zenith. A few more seconds...and... 

It happened. She came. She howled, howled with adoring worship, to the majestic moon. Her packmates joined in celebration. Oneness with the heavenly lunar body had been achieved. She felt lighter than air, as if taking the first step upon it. Things wouldn't ever be the same now. She descended, rested, and settled to drown in the afterglow. 

That's one small step for wolfwoman...one giant leap for caninekind. 

*** 

January 5th, 9:13 p.m. 

"Well, here's my place," said Christina, as Adia drove her back home after dinner. Christina's vehicle was left by the wooded hills, but she could rely on public transportation to get her there and anywhere else she needed to go. 

It was a lovely little first date. Christina couldn't bring herself to tell Adia of her true nature, and while she wasn't proud of it, she didn't think she could bear to just scare her away. She'd managed, nonetheless, to engage her in lively conversation consisting of facets from her human life and identity. They had stuffed themselves a bit too full for dessert, so they mutually decided to share a tasty treat of some sort or other whenever they had a chance to meet again. 

Adia was pleased to see that Christina didn't live too far away from her—twenty minutes, at the most, in traffic. But any pleasant feelings she'd have been having right now were merely supplementary. Her evening had been made by this wonderful encounter. So much time spent alone with a lack of nice lady companionship had rendered her not exactly desperate, but ever so much more welcoming when a potential chance romance like this came along. She was a little disappointed they had to say goodbye now, but she absolutely believed that absence made the heart grow fonder. This meant simply that now she got to go home and daydream and fantasize about the next time they might meet. Christina had made it crystal-clear that she was very interested in a second date. 

This was pure honesty on Christina's part. She felt happy too. She wasn't sure how long she could conceal her secret, or how appropriate it might be that Adia find out the truth at all. This thought struck her as callous, selfish and cowardly, but at the same time, Christina certainly liked her after this one night. It had almost seemed like magic that they should come together on this fateful evening, and she sensed Adia felt similarly. She planned to do some daydreaming and fantasizing of her own. 

She felt her heart warm as Adia shyly took her hand, linking their fingers. 

"Well...here we are..." Adia blushed, batting her eyes. "...The, eh...good-night part." 

"Yup...here we are indeed," Christina replied. 

Adia leaned closer. 

"So..." 

She tilted her face up and closed her eyes. Christina could see what she was asking for. 

She leaned in close to Adia as well, closed her own eyes, gave her cheek another series of puppy sniffs... 

...Slipped out her tongue, and licked her, from jaw to temple. 

Adia's eyes popped back open. She hadn't precisely been expecting this. She touched her cheek. It was wet. 

"Um..." she hesitated. "...Golly. Oh, my. Uh..." 

She chuckled. This felt awkward, but sort of...cute, in a bizarre way, at the same time. She wasn't sure how to react. 

"Well, that's...different." 

Christina batted her own eyes and patted Adia's hand, as if nothing here was unusual at all. "I had a wonderful time tonight, Adia." 

Adia smiled. One weird form of affection aside, she felt the same. She waited as Christina exited the car, wanting only at this point to make sure she got in okay. She returned the wave Christina threw from the door, and lowered her hand as she vanished behind it. 

Sigh. 

She restarted the car and drove home. 

*** 

One month later 

February 3rd, 9:18 a.m. 

Adia had an alarm clock she set each morning, which was in proper working order, but she practically didn't even need it. Her cat Bingo gave her an effective wake-up call almost every single day. Being hotblooded, Adia liked to sleep with her bare feet peeking out from under the covers, and Bingo the cat had developed the habit of hopping on the bed, waiting for breakfast, and swishing her tail back and forth across the bottoms of Adia's feet. It was a ticklishly brilliant awakening if she could ever ask for one. 

Reminding herself the next day of the dreary news that winter would be prolonged another six weeks, Adia decided to cheer herself up by stopping for a nice hot breakfast on the way to work. She had a hearty-sized fluffy buttermilk biscuit with a sausage patty and egg in the middle and some warm tea to go with it. Next stop: the Juniper Zoo. 

Regardless of the spring delay, it was a refreshing, invigorating—if rainy—again—day. The crisp, precipitant morning appealed to Adia in the form of yielding her a sense of inspiration. For what, she couldn't say, but once she stepped out the door she felt she could accomplish anything. Just like last month, the drops of drizzle were bordering on to becoming snowflakes. 

She'd had more chances to see Christina since their first date, and enjoyed each more than the last. So far, they'd been to Venizzi's, the ice cream shop, the park, the movies, the Sapphire Room dance hall, the Silverlight concert venue, and Christina's, where they'd stayed in and ordered dinner. Adia was fascinated by the décor of her home. There was foliage all over: ferns, ficusses and so on, not to mention the dangling ivy on her exterior. There was also lots of blue. Christina's claim of her wolf kinship was reinforced by the collection of mystic pieces she boasted, depicting one and another artist's rendition of the majestic wolf in cool, beautiful royal tones. 

Now that Christina had hosted a date, Adia wished to do the same. She waited until she got a break at work and sent a text. 

Christina received the message and hesitated with an uneased sigh. Today of all days, she actually hoped Adia wouldn't want to get together. It was twenty-nine days later and she had the following day free from work, only because tonight would be the next chronological full moon, and the first since they had met. She supposed she could concoct some story about why she couldn't make it, or could fib and say she felt sick, or any number of other excuses, but while she wasn't crazy about any of these schemes, she wasn't wild about the truth either. Supposing she were to tell Adia the true story. How would she even begin? 

Before she got the chance to think of what to say or do, Adia sent her a second text. 

I really hope you can see me tonight, C. I think I really really like you :) <3 A 

Christina's heart melted. She was so moved and honeyed by these words, because she'd been leaning the same way. Her feelings towards Adia in this brief month had scooted past mere friendship and infatuation. She didn't yet know if she was falling in love with her, but she could see it potentially happening in the not-too-far-off future. What a conundrum this was turning out to be. Part of her now actually wanted to tell Adia the truth, somehow, just to have dealt with it, and let the proverbial chips fall where they may, even if it meant getting her heart broken in the process. But she was frightened. 

For just about half a second she considered meeting Adia tonight and just letting the transformation do the talking for her, but that idea was hastily discarded. If this was to be brought to light, she had to be a big girl about it and give fair warning beforehand. Warning...oh... She didn't relish the notion of having to warn Adia of anything. It wasn't often, but every now and then in her thirty-five human years, she wondered why in Heaven's name this had happened to her. 

Oh, why? she pouted to herself. Why me? Why can't I be normal? 

She was really starting to want to just spill it, out of frustration, but questioned whether that would be fair to Adia. Even with warning, this had to be handled gently. It was an extremely unnerving subject, something that wasn't to be just blurted out mid-conversation. She tried to fool herself into thinking that if Adia really loved her, then she would accept her in any form whatsoever, but she knew better than that. This wasn't a personality flaw or a mental ailment she was grappling with; it was a species change. 

Oh, this was troubling. Her heart was pulling her one way, her brain another. She so wanted to be with Adia tonight, like any other, and wasn't sure when their schedules might sync up again if they skipped this evening. She longed for more moments to sit with her, to gaze into those depthless green eyes, to feel that warm skin touch her own, to inhale and caress that silky hair, to share flirtatious sweet nothings all night long, until the urge to declare their undying devotion could be no longer denied... 

Her heart won. She texted Adia back and said yes. 

Now all she had to do was figure out some way to prepare her for what was to happen tonight. 

*** 

February 3rd, 3:20 p.m. 

It was another relatively early day for Adia, ending at 3:00...thank goodness, thought Christina. Adia gave her directions to her apartment and told her she needn't bring anything unless she wanted to. This put Christina's mind a bit—not much, but a bit—at ease, as at least this wouldn't have to happen anywhere out in public. In the interest of time, she opted not to bring anything. She also didn't want to go canine right inside Adia's home, but she wasn't sure she had a lot of choice. She was so scared on the way she started weeping—how she'd explain this, she had no idea—but she had to face facts. If she and Adia were to have a future together, she was going to find out sooner or later. Better sooner. 

She composed herself as she pulled up in front of the building number Adia'd given her: 434 Hewson Apartments. The unit was 202. Christina climbed to the second floor, found it, and knocked. Rapid, excited footsteps bounded to the door and the lock clicked. 

"Hi, sweetie!" greeted a very happy Adia. "Welcome! C'mon, c'mon in!" 

Nervous, but happy to see her, Christina straightened out the ruffles in her dress and stepped inside. 

"Oh, this is so lovely," she said, trying to find anything to focus on except the impending situation. 

Before Adia had time to say anything, more bounding footsteps approached from around the corner. It was Bingo and Checkers to say hello, just as they felt the urge to do anytime they heard the door. 

"Oh, girls!" Adia introduced them. "Christina, these are my little angels: Checkers, and Bi—" 

She began gesturing to them one at a time, but one glance at Christina, and Bingo the Persian suddenly tensed up. Her fur stood on end, and she hissed. She reversed course with a growling meow, and zoomed back around the corner. 

"W—" Adia was imaginably alarmed. "...Well, that's strange. Bingo usually loves people." 

Checkers the Dalmatian was highly intrigued. She did just the opposite. She jumped up and placed her front paws on Christina's thigh, panting with a big doggy grin and wagging her tail, very happy to see this visitor. Adia was now downright bamboozled. 

"Well, that's even stranger. Checkers is usually the shy one." 

"Oh," Christina tried to wave it off. "It's okay. Cats have never really taken much to me. Don't get me wrong, I love them. But I just have a, uh...well...a better rapport with dogs." 

"Well, have a seat!" Adia offered, showing her to the living room. "Please! Take off your shoes, get comfy. What can I get you?" 

Christina fluffed herself and plopped on the love seat. Adia brought her out a snack tray, but Christina was too anxious to touch it. 

"Honey?" asked Adia, hopping on the love seat beside her. "You okay? Is something wrong?" 

This was going to be harder than she thought it would be. On her own, Christina could only imagine Adia's response to her bombshell, and no real harm could be done while she remained officially oblivious. Once she told her, there was no going back. She couldn't untell her after this point. She looked out the window. There was still a decent amount of daylight left. 

Okay, she thought. I might as well do this while I have some time. She turned to face her. 

"...A—...A-Adia...I...um..." 

Adia linked their arms as she began. Christina looked into her eyes. They were gentle, crinkly, and loving. They expressed a heartfelt devotion and a longing plea to have that devotion so truly returned. She blinked, batting them. 

"Yes?" 

Christina couldn't bear it another second. She had no choice; she was forced to give in. She kissed her. 

Both bodies promptly teemed with warm, smoky delight. Soft moans and whimpers ensued almost at once. As their senses went dizzy, their arms took over, wrapping around one another and pulling closer. Their juices ran and their libidos began warming up. 

Bingo had run away to hide. Checkers was watching her Mommy and her guest make out together like a couple of children, and was quite happy for them. Checkers indeed felt a kindred spirit with Christina, for reasons Christina was rapidly forgetting here in the throes of passion. She and Adia were melting in each other's arms like M&Ms. 

They pulled their legs onto the love seat with the rest of their bodies, to feel as if they were floating off the floor in one another's angelic embraces. Their blood heated, lighting a fire in their tummies, making their heartbeats speed up more and more. Their sizzling kisses shot sparks back and forth, elevating their shared plateau before they knew what was happening. 

The kiss finally broke. Adia and Christina practically fell against one another, gasping for breath. Their pulses were going a mile a minute. They held off on any more kissing just now, only for need of breath. They continued their affection by nuzzling cheeks and noses, stroking ears and jawlines, running fingers through hair. Their plumes of hot breath crossed paths. 

"Christina?" the silver-haired fox heard her say. 

"Adia?" 

"While I was waiting for you to come over today, I decided this was the day I was going to tell you... 

"...To tell you that...that I..." 

Adia paused multiple times, trying to finish. 

"...I think I may be falling in love with you." 

Christina's heart fainted. She felt a stinging in her eyes. 

"I-I don't think I know for sure just yet," Adia went on, "But that's the direction I'm leaning. The first time I saw you, I just thought you were so amazingly beautiful. And somehow...you're even more beautiful now." 

Christina's eyes went blurry as the tears started pushing through. Adia's narrowed seductively. She smirked. 

"And, eh...after careful deliberation...I wanna take you to my bedroom...and show you how beautiful I think you are." 

A chill went through Christina's entire body which afterwards turned white-hot. All the seduction clouded her good judgment. 

"I wanna go with you." 

Adia grinned, pushed herself up from the love seat, got to her feet, and offered her hand. 

Tell her, Christina, said a small voice in her mind. Tell her now. 

I...I...I can't. I just can't do it. 

I love her. 

But— 

Lat-er. We...will deal...with it...later. 

Christina accepted her waiting hand. 

*** 

February 3rd, 3:45 p.m. 

Adia took her from the living room to her mistress bedroom. Just before they reached it, Adia tossed her a coy but naughty smile. 

"I tidied it up just for you," she cooed. 

"It could be a total pigsty and I wouldn't even notice with you in there," purred the silver-haired fox. 

Adia giggled, taking her inside and shutting the door behind. 

"That is so romantic." 

Christina was charmed by Adia's room as well. Adia, a zookeeper and animal lover, collected and proudly displayed her own array of nature artwork. The rest of the room was clad in a dresser and bureau, bookshelves, a roll-out chair and desk, a closet, a window dressed in a light lavender drape, and of course the snug, comfy queen-size, on and around which dwelled her lot of stuffed friends. 

"Aw, you have your own little animal kingdom!" remarked Christina. "How adorable!" 

"But of course." Adia took her hands. "Animals are our friends. However..." 

She led Christina to the bed and began pushing the stuffed toys to the floor. 

"...Inanimate objects rank lower on my list of welcome bed guests than actual living, breathing, beautiful silver-haired women." 

Adia slowly stretched herself horizontally onto the mattress, tenderly pulling Christina to her. 

"So why don't you come here...and be my living, breathing playmate?" 

Christina poured herself in beside her. 

"I do have quite a fondness for playing..." she purred to Adia. "After all, you know what they say about all work and no play." 

They shut their eyes and collected one another. The first bed kiss made the world disappear. Their plushy lips melded brilliantly. It already felt so damn good on both ends, and they were only getting started. Heavenly warmth and wonderment swaddled them in gravity-defying layers. Soft skin was caressed and manually loved in equally soft, smooth palms. More groans and declarations of devotion emanated their ways into the atmosphere. Neither girl could believe how happy she was. 

Crushing each other in their vise grips of love, Adia and Christina never wanted to let go. They made out for five straight minutes before pausing to regroup and recoup. Adia's heart was going a lightyear a second. After all her years of solitude, she couldn't believe she now had a gorgeous, radiant lady in her home, let alone her bed. It was like a dream come true. It seemed surreal at this point. Christina could barely believe it herself. Being a genteel, delicate lady in her human state, she hadn't made love to many women, nor as many men, as the act lacked heart and design without a genuine emotional connection. A mate like this didn't come along every day. And so she wasn't to be tossed aside when she did. Christina decided she was going to allow herself to just fall right into this. 

She still, however, did not immediately recall the potentially unwieldy obstacle standing in her way. 

Employing amazing dual hand-to-mind coordination, Adia and Christina reached their paws downwards to begin disrobing one another while still in the heat of liplocked eros. Once they realized both their minds were heading in the same direction, their libidos went into overdrive. A wave of heat blew through their already warm bodies, and suddenly, shedding clothes was as necessary as impulsive. The lasses' moans intensified into shouts. They needed to exercise care if they didn't want to rip their outfits right off. 

"Oh, yes!" grinned an extra randy Adia between kisses, practically giggling from giddiness. "GOD, YES!" 




Hungry Like The Wolfgirl



"Oh my God!" Christina chortled along. "We...we..." 

She lowered her voice to a whisper. 

"We're really gonna do this, aren't we??" 

Adia smiled wickedly at her, with recklessly naughty abandon. 

"I'm ready anytime you are... 

"But, uh...what say we make this extra interesting?" she proposed. 

Christina arched her eyebrows. 

"Interesting, how?" 

"Well, my dear, you know how mad I am about games...why don't we set up a bit of a wager for next time... 

"...Say...whoever's forced to orgasm first this time...must agree, next time, to be tied up, for the other's use and enjoyment." 

This kinky suggestion made Christina so hot her pussy sweated. She didn't imagine there would be any losers here. 

"You're on, future slave girl!" 

Adia grinned at her, showing remarkable moxie, and grabbed her between the legs. Christina gasped in overtaken surprise. 

"Just as I suspected," sneered Adia, trying to keep her excitement contained while she poured it on. "Already wet." 

Christina was confident in her sexual prowess and control, but this, like her clit, could be harder than she thought. Yet she was pretty tough as well. She seized Adia and pulled her close. "Very well, young lady," she growled. "Get over here." 

Outside, the temperature fell. The fog rolled in and the snow materialized, collecting upon the Earth's outdoors. 2015's Daylight Savings Time had yet to begin. As it was getting on to its time to retire, behind the sea of clouds, the sun began to set. The clock approached five. Bingo slipped into a deep sleep in a basket of laundry while Checkers wrestled with a chew toy. Around the corner in Adia's room, she and Christina were each determined to win their game. Both were fueled by a healthy competitive spirit from an early age—Adia for her affinity for any kind of games created, Christina for her survival instinct in foraging and fighting for food—and this was easily the most fun competition in which either of them had participated. The exhilaration pumped them both so full of energy, they got rigorously athletic. They might as well have been in the arena together in an Ultimate Surrender match. 

Another factor they had in common was a fierce feistiness for hot sex due to involuntary abstinence. Christina, as established, was an animal. Her sexual side was primal, base, raw, and ferocious. She liked it rough, plain and simple. Adia was a little more on the fragile side, but could be quite the proverbial freak herself. It was good for them they were surfing Adia's mattress. If they played-slash-worked one another any harder, injuries could be led to. 

They needed no thermostat at this point. For this short time, they could live without heat in the apartment, generating this much of their own. Being the hotblooded chick she was, Adia didn't get cold easily, and kept her apartment roughly at a cool 70°, sometimes a bit lower. It was below 30° outside, but for all the girls knew, they were sprawled across the surface of the sun. Loose garments were strewn everywhere, both blazing naked bodies writhing together, twisting limbs and sheets into a tangled, bedridden mess. Muscles flexed to maximum capacity, squeezing hot, wet thighs with crushing, gripping force. Nails scraped searing trails of red down each other's backs. Desperate, soaked, drenched pussies hungrily yearned for pleasure, clenching and swallowing the fingers repeatedly fed them. Sweat poured down both faces, all four shoulders and breasts, mixing in musky traces as their pussy juices too ran together. As the sun set, Christina again desirously sniffed and licked Adia while pawing at her like the lone wolf she was, but the small part of Adia that noticed now took it simply as an additional form of playful, sensual affection. 

Adia was indeed enamored—among other things—of Christina's gorgeous silver hair, and was so consumed with the passion of making such sublimely spontaneous love to her, she didn't even think to find out if her carpet matched her drapes. But she found that it was in fact true a moment later when, keeping in the spirit of spontaneity, Christina hopped up from her lying position, straddled Adia over her head, and muffed her, shoving her carpet in Adia's face. 

Welcoming this new position, Adia squealed with glee beneath Christina's pussy and threw her arms around the silver fox's thighs. Christina growled with passion as Adia leaned up into her silver cunt and began eating her. Feeling the need to reciprocate, Christina took Adia by the bottoms of the thighs, lowered herself to Adia's equally starved pussy, and resumed her primal activity, savagely slicking and gnawing at her. The chain reaction struck, and Christina felt Adia's rumbling scream under her. 

"OHHHHHHFFF!!" shrieked Adia through a faceful of pussy. "OHHHHHHHHHHFFFFFFUHHHFFF!!" 

Christina grinned wickedly. "Yes, baby!" she snarled between harsh licks. "Scream for me! You're at my mercy!" 

Adia forcedly obeyed. Her eyes fluttered shut as her eyeballs rolled back in her head. She couldn't take much more of this. Christina couldn't take much more either, but she could tell she was in control. Taking the top position and putting Adia on bottom helped, but it was the silver huntress' aggressive, devastating savagery that really sealed the deal in her favor. 

Adia was all but ready to completely concede defeat, unable to focus any longer on what she was doing. She hollered in Christina's gully, leaning up to devour her before being forced back down again by insurmountable pleasure. Christina owned her, and they both knew it. Adia was unstoppably hurtling towards the edge. Christina giggled as she read the signs. Victory was hers. Adia was left with no choice. She held out as long as her libido would allow, and surrendered. 

"AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHH!!" she exploded, all but flinging Christina right off of her. Everything inside her went blindingly bright white. She blasted Christina in the face with her come as the raging, havoc-wreaking, one-in-a-million orgasm mercilessly stormed her again and again. Stars shot and blew up before her eyes in brilliant psychedelic colors. Heaven and Earth sandwiched her between them, and collided. Her mindshattering release rocked her fifteen straight seconds before she at last wound back down and floated free of her climactic cloud. And once she had officially let it all go, Christina let it go right along with her. 

"Yay, I won!" said Christina, after the orgasm had run its course. Adia, who remained too havoc-wrought to contribute right now, only heaved her breaths with a series of sighs. But she smiled happily as Christina settled back down to cuddle her in afterglow. 

I love you, honey, thought Adia, just as the sun finished setting. 

The snow continued falling, but the windows went dark around them as the full moon rose. The clock ticked away. Minute after minute passed in the now abruptly quiet bedroom. Christina and Adia had almost fallen to sleep together in the bed. Their exchanges had softened to happy pecks and silent expressions of devotion. They never wanted to leave here. But, unfortunately... 

...Nature did not grant special exception to its cyclical abnormalities. 

The fact that she was naked played in her favor, but being indoors made zero difference. The girls were all but dead to the world after their workout when Christina felt the familiar prickly sensation creeping over her body. Her eyes widened as she realized she was indeed undergoing the transformation, right here in her lady companion's bed. 

"Oh, no," she began panicking. "Oh, no! Not now! Please, not now!" 

Adia awoke. "Wha—...?" she asked weakly. 

It was happening. To Christina's dismayed horror, unabated, it was happening. 

The last thing Christina wanted to do right now was let go of Adia's precious body. But unless she wanted to traumatize the hell from her with a nightmare coming true at this moment, she had no choice. 

"Oh, no!" she cried, as her voice morphed and her skin stretched and contorted form. She tried to get up and get off the bed, but she was losing her human faculties. She tumbled to the floor, got up on hand and knee and scampered to the door. 

Adia was dizzy and disoriented, but she realized something strange was happening to her friend. 

"Ch—...Christina??" 

Christina fled the bedroom, no longer able to speak. She disturbed Bingo's nap and Checkers' play session, only confusing them momentarily. She was able to race back through the apartment to the front door, grab the doorknob and throw it open to escape just before her hands drew back into paws. Her legs too began to draw back as she got outside. And her silver mane rode to the extent of her now canine frame, forming her entire gray coat. Fifteen feet outdoors, the transformation was complete. 

Behind her, Adia was now panicked and frightened, with less than no idea what was going on. Christina had wanted to tell her, oh, how she had wanted to tell her, but...she just couldn't. She'd left Adia scared and befuddled over the bizarre occurrence. And her mental matter as well diminished from woman to wolf. Her only task now was to find her way to the wooded hills for the night. 

Adia hopped out of the bed, following down the hall. "Christina??!" she shouted in despair. "Wh—...wh—..." 

She was nowhere in the apartment to be found. But the front door was open. 

"Oh my..." 

Adia dashed back into her bedroom, to find all of their clothes still thrown about. 

"She...she didn't even take her...?" 

This was unfathomable. Christina had hastened out of bed and run outside naked?? In the snow?? 

Adia jumped into her T-shirt and jammie pants and scurried back out to look for Christina. The paved entrance into the building was freezing on her uncovered feet, but she didn't care. She stopped when she reached the base of the steps, where the snow reached. About a yard out in front, though the snowfall accumulated still, she detected a print made by a human foot. 

A bare human foot. 

Obviously, it was not her own. But paced out a few yards from it was another, then another, then... 

Oh my God, what was she thinking?? She'll get frostbitten! 

Forgoing her own safety logic, Adia carefully tippy-toed out into the snow to follow them. A few steps out, she froze—not due to hypothermia, but to shocked surprise—at what she saw next. The human footprints disappeared. 

And picking up where they left off, Adia saw something that made her certain her eyes were playing tricks on her. She blinked and rubbed them several times over, no longer noticing the frigid weather. 

...Animal tracks?? 

She could only determine this much in the darkness under the streetlight and falling snow above. Under normal circumstances, her zookeeper's mind would have recognized these as the wolf tracks they were, stealing off into the foggy, snowstormy night. Adia couldn't possibly have anticipated what happened next. But she did find, to her utter awe, that these were in fact wolf prints. She heard the voice of discovery, off in the inestimable distance. 

The howl. 

The very same enigmatic, majestic howl...to the moon. 

Adia stood stock-still, her mouth hanging open and collecting snowflakes, in unparalleled consternation. 

...NO. 

It...it can't be. It's not possible. 

Her rational mind refused to process the information laid out before her. Things like this simply did not happen. Normal human beings did not randomly change into wolves, or any other multispecies creature. Something else must have somehow taken place here, but...for the life of her, she could not begin to explain what. She could determine neither this, nor the amount of time she spent out in the snow in complete bewilderment...before she finally turned to go back inside. 

*** 

Another month later 

March 5th, 5:41 p.m. 

"...Did you get my letter?" 

"Yes...but I don't understand." 

"I don't expect you to. I feel so terrible. I should have told you, I should have explained everything...but I didn't know how." 

"Well, it seems like kind of a long story. And I've got time, so...why don't we just start at the beginning?" 

Christina had asked Adia to come and pay her a visit so that they could talk things out. She had chosen the evening of March the 5th, as it was the next full moon. DST was about to begin for the year, decreasing her intervals of time spent in nonhuman form until autumn. She didn't think that Adia would believe this were she not to see it for herself. So she had afforded a fair amount of time to explain everything, and let her transformation happen before Adia's very eyes. 

For her part, Adia felt a little nervous. She admitted to being a bit hurt that Christina had kept a secret of this magnitude from her this long, but at the same time, she had to question whether she'd have believed it had she been told. She still didn't get the whole big picture here, but she trusted Christina to explicate adequately. 

"...So...you're..." Adia swallowed. 

She nodded. "That's right. A werewolf." 

"But...but...I...I didn't think werewolves existed." 

"Well, you're right. They are mythical. But, Adia...you must believe me when I tell you that there is magic in this world. Fairy tales can come true. Miraculous things do happen. And they can't always be explained. The real world is logical, sensible and finite. But man's imagination and capacity for the belief of the unknown is so much more than that. There is ever so much more to this universe than you or I know. There are more things in Heaven and Earth, Adia, than are dreamt of in our philosophy. And if we close our minds to the impossible..." She shook her head in dismay. "...Then, I just don't think there's any hope for our dreams to come true." 

Adia nodded, slowly and cautiously. 

"And...this is going to happen tonight?" 

Christina nodded back. "That's right." 

Adia took a deep breath. 

"I'm scared, Christina." 

Christina took her hands. "I know. I know. It's okay, sweetheart. This is a very hard thing for me to do. I'm scared, too. I never tell this to anyone, for their own sake. But I care too much about you not to let you know." 

All four eyes began to moisten. They saw their own eyes reflected in each other's tears. 

"I can't have a future with you keeping a secret this size," Christina started to weep. "And I really want to, Adia. I want to be with you for as long as you'll have me. I love you, Adia. You're the most spectacular person I've ever met." 

Through the imminent obstacle standing in the way, Adia saw to the happy truth in her words and her voice. She sobbed with joy. 

"I love you too, Christina." 

Christina sniffled and gave her a kiss. 

"Then come with me." 

The next Christina asked Adia to do was to get in her car and follow her. She led her to her pack's den up in the wooded hills. Adia wasn't sure why they couldn't just go together in one car, but Christina assured her she'd see. 

It was a very windy evening, now after 6:00. The sun was on its way down. They parked and exited their vehicles. 

"Where are we?" Adia asked. 

"My second home." 

Adia only gazed in the direction Christina indicated, seeing her packmates. The wind picked up. Her heart started to pound. 

"I...I'm really frightened, Christina." 

"Adia, I wouldn't lie to you to save my life. Everything I have told you is the God's honest truth. All you have to do is wait, and see." 

Christina proceeded to remove the blanket from her car, and took off her clothes. 

"...Um...I don't...I don't have to take off my clothes too, do I?" 

"Of course you don't. I only do this to protect mine." 

And Adia thought she was hotblooded. She shivered in the increasing wind, wondering how Christina was managing to stay warm. 

"...When will you be...y-y'know...you again?" she wished to know. 

"Tomorrow morning," said the now naked silver fox. Adia felt her take her hand. "I understand if this is too much to handle, Adia," she again sniffled. "I can't blame you if you feel we have to part ways. My heart will be broken, but I will have to understand." 

Adia shook her head, unable to think of how to reply. A hundred worrisome thoughts ran through her mind. 

"It's okay, Adia. I know you're scared. You have every right to be. This is a part of my identity and who I am, but it doesn't affect my human form. I haven't forgotten you these past two months, and I won't forget you now. And I certainly won't stop loving you. All I hope and ask in return is that you'll keep loving me too." 

One look into those pleading clear ice-blue eyes, and Adia had her answer. 

"Of course I'll keep loving you, Christina." 

Christina took Adia in her arms, pressing her body close and tight to her. 

"I will always be with you, Adia. Just know that." 

The mighty wind grew even stronger, buffeting the girls and whipping their hair all about. Christina let go of Adia, sniffed, licked and kissed her one more time. She had to stop her heart from cracking as she saw Adia cry. 

She caressed Adia's cheek. "Tomorrow," she promised softly. "That's all it is, one short night." 

She turned, took a deep breath, and advanced towards her forest and packmates. Adia watched from her car as the sun vanished below the horizon, full moon on the rise. Darkness obscured her view, but not so much that she couldn't witness the metamorphosis. 

Again, she gasped in awe. A wave of invisibility seemed to wash over Christina as it happened in plain sight. She lowered to all fours. Her skin shifted texture and color. Her silver hair grew back, extending into the coat over her reforming body. Her limbs drew in. Her hands and feet turned to paws, her digits to claws. Her ears rose atop her head. And her tail protruded from her rump. 

And before Adia knew it, as quickly as it had begun...it was over. The transformation was complete. She gaped in disbelief at what to the naked eye was now an ordinary gray wolf. It was nothing short of spellbinding. 

The wind died down to a gentle breeze. The wolf turned back one short second to lock eyes with Adia, before breaking into a gallop to meet up with her family. As she watched it run away, Adia felt a ping of remorse and sadness in her heart, before she remembered what Christina had told her. It would only be until tomorrow. And reassessing things, she felt she could fare this circumstance. 

She thought back to the fateful day in February. Everything was abruptly explained. So this was why Bingo became so frightened of Christina, running off to hide, as well as why Checkers took such a shine to her. This was why she'd suddenly jumped up out of her bed and run to get outside in the snow, not taking a stitch of clothing with her. And why her footprints turned to wolf tracks. 

She worried still. She worried Christina might be attacked by a predator or fall to some other peril, but then again, she'd been under this monthly "spell" all her life and had survived thus far. Perhaps Adia hadn't anything to worry about, but she couldn't help it. Part of her felt still it wasn't quite fair, that after having waited this long for a true soulmate, someone she could call lover, in every sense of the word, that she should turn out to be not fully human. But... 




Hungry Like The Wolfgirl



Well, she thought, maybe it was for a reason. Maybe they were destined to meet because Adia loved and knew all about animals. Maybe some other cosmic coincidence was written in the stars. She'd never really believed in such fortunes before, but after what Christina had just shown and told her, she was compelled to take a second look. Maybe, just maybe...anything was possible. 

She cast her glance to the limitless heavens. 

Anything is possible. 

And from somewhere not too far off in the distance, once again came the familiar, wondrous sound she now knew so very well. 

The majestic howl of worship, to the great full moon. 

*** 

"Minnesota moon is smiling/With a pretty silver glow/You can hear the welcome call from the pine trees tall/Whispering, there is just one place to go/Minnesota lakes are longing/Just to set the world in tune/So know when you're blue, just remember you/Can find rest beneath the Minnesota moon" —Oscar Ericksen and Harley Rosso, 1923 

"I like smoke and lightning/Heavy metal thunder/Racing with the wind/And the feeling that I'm under/Yeah, darling, go make it happen/Take the world in a love embrace/Fire all of your guns at once, and/Explode into space/And like a true nature's child/We were born, born to be wild/We can climb so high/I never wanna die/Born to be wild/Born to be wild" —Mars Bonfire, 1967 

"We get it on most every night/When that moon gets big and bright/It's supernatural delight/Everybody was dancing in the moonlight/Everybody here is out of sight/They don't bark and they don't bite/They keep things loose, they keep things light/Everybody was dancing in the moonlight/Dancing in the moonlight/Everybody's feeling warm and bright/It's such a fine and natural sight/Everybody's dancing in the moonlight/We like our fun and we never fight/You can't dance and stay uptight/It's supernatural delight/Everybody was dancing in the moonlight" —Sherman Kelly, 1968 

"Funny, but it seems I always wind up here with you/Nice to know somebody loves me/Funny, but it seems that it's the only thing to do/Run and find the one who loves me/What I feel has come and gone before/No need to talk it out/We know what it's all about/Hanging around/Nothing to do but frown/Rainy days and Mondays always get me down/Walking around/Some kind of lonely clown/Rainy days and Mondays always get me down" —Paul Williams and Roger Nichols, 1970 

"It's night, again/Time for my mind to go wandering/Off on a journey, through space and time/In search of a face I can never find/So I close my eyes, and look inside/I wish she'd come back tonight/Like a, a star shining bright/I don't know where she's from/She's like a/A girl on the moon/A girl on the moon/She's like a/A girl on the moon/A girl on the moon/Yes, it's night, once again/And that same old feeling is setting in/It all seems so familiar, but I hope this time/That girl on the moon will soon be mine/All mine, tonight/Am I asking too much/Should I leave my dream untouched/Should I even know where she's from/My girl on the moon/She's my girl on the moon/My girl on the moon/My girl on the moon" —Mick Jones and Lou Gramm, 1980 

"Stalked in the forest, too close to hide/I'll be upon you by the moonlight side/High blood drumming on your skin, it's so tight/You feel my heat, I'm just a moment behind/In touch with the ground/I'm on the hunt, I'm after you/Scent and a sound/I'm lost and I'm found/And I'm hungry like the wolf/Strut on a line/It's discord and rhyme/I howl and I whine, I'm after you/Mouth is alive/All running inside/And I'm hungry like the wolf" —Duran Duran, 1982 

"Breaking away with the beast in both worlds/A smile that you can't disguise/And every minute I keep finding/Clues that you leave behind/Save me from these reminders/As if I'd forget tonight/This time, La Luna/I light my torch and wave it for the/New moon on Monday/And a firedance through the night/I stayed the cold day/With a lonely satellite" —Duran Duran, 1983 

"Off through the new day's mist I run/Out from the new day's mist I have come/We shift, pulsing with the Earth/Company we keep/Roaming the land while you sleep/Bright is the moon high in starlight/Chill in the air, cold as steel tonight/We shift, call of the wild/Fear in your eyes/It's later than you realized/Shape shift, nose to the wind/Shape shift, feeling I've been/Move swift, all senses clean/Earth's gift, back to the meaning of wolf and man" —James Hetfield, Lars Ulrich and Kirk Hammett, 1990 

"When the sun goes down here, and darkness falls/The blanket of winter leaves no light at all/You search for shelter to calm the storm/Shaking with an instinct just to stay warm/But I'd walk through the snow barefoot/If you'd open up your door/I'd walk through the snow barefoot/You hear the howling of dogs and wind/Stirring up the secrets that are frozen within/The ice will haunt you, it lays so deep/Locking up inside you the dreams that you keep/But I'd walk through the snow barefoot/If you'd open up your door/I'd walk through the snow barefoot/This wind through my soul blows cold" —Bob Telson and k.d. lang, 1990 

"She was the first girl on the moon/She didn't compromise/When she took off that cold afternoon/Heading for the northern skies/I told her I could come/That I could come along/But she didn't let me come along/Wave goodbye/She was the first girl on the moon/Standing tall, flag in hand/She looked around, humming a tune/The strangest song known to man/I told her I could come/That I could come along/But she never let me come along/Wave goodbye/Wave goodbye" —Per Gessle, 1992 

"Adia, I do believe I've failed you/Adia, I know I've let you down/Don't you know I tried so hard to love you in my way?/It's easy, let it go/Adia, I thought that we could make it/I know I can't change the way you feel/I leave you with your misery, a friend who won't betray/Pull you from your tower/I take away your pain/Show you all the beauty you possess/If you'd only let yourself believe/'Cause we are born innocent/Believe me, Adia, we are still innocent/It's easy, we all falter/Does it matter?/Believe me, Adia" —Sarah McLachlan and Pierre Marchand, 1996



Hungry Ones



I patted my wife's hand gently. She sniffed and leaned sideways into my shoulder. All around us, the sounds of sniffled tears and murmuring voices. I hadn't known my wife's aunt Christina well, but from the turnout at her funeral, it seemed like she'd been well liked.

"Are you holding up alright?" I whispered.

"Yeah," Jane said. "I feel bad for some of her friends that she hadn't seen in a while. This came out of the blue for them." I could understand her sympathy. Christina had been sick for a very long time, and we had all come to terms with her passing long before the actual event. Looking around the room, there were actually very few tears. 

Jane got up to circle the room and talk to family she hadn't seen for some time, and I took the opportunity to excuse myself. The visitation was a little uncomfortable for me, knowing so few of the people there.

The funeral home was simply gorgeous. The owners were personal friends of mine (I had managed to call in some favors to get a nicer funeral than my wife's family would otherwise have been able to afford) and had done a lovely job at furnishing the place. It had been done up in a Victorian style that was somber and tasteful, with the gravitas that made people feel like their loved ones' deaths were being taken seriously.

I saw Glenn, my friend, in the hallway as I headed for the bathroom.

"Hey, Jake," he said. "I just got a call from a client. I have to head out."

"Damn," I said. "We don't have to cut it short, do we?" I would hate to have to shoo my wife's family out of a funeral.

"No," he said. "As long as you can stay until I get back." He held out a set of keys. "Here's the spares in case the visitation ends before I get back. Would you mind locking up before you leave if that's the case?" I nodded and thanked him again for the favor he was doing us. It was especially nice because Glenn and his family, a wife and two kids, lived in the funeral home. Squeezing us in like this meant his family had had to be hustled out of the house for the evening. I pushed on down the hallway, sighing at the extra responsibility I'd just agreed to take on.

I stopped at the door to the bathroom. Inside I could hear sniffing. I turned to go, but the door opened, and Jane's sister Violet came out into the hall.

"Sorry," she said, "I'm done."

"Take all the time you need," I said, trying to smile. I'm not real great with grieving people, so I tried to default back to supportive-but-not-smothering. 

Violet, Jane's younger sister, had been out of the country on business when Christina had died. She'd had much less advance notice than the rest of the family, and was taking it harder.

"Sorry," she said again, wiping her eyes. I put a hand on her shoulder, and she wilted into me in a pathetic hug. Her face was hot from crying, and pressed into my neck.

I'd always found Violet attractive, and the feeling of her pressed against me was something I'd always imagined but never experienced in any but the most platonic of senses. I forced myself to think about something else.

"Sorry," she said for the third time, pulling away. "I'm just so stressed."

"I can understand," I said. "You're under a lot of stress right now. Moving back to the states, changing jobs, it's a big deal. And all of this on top of it?" I smiled. "Believe me, I get stress."

She nodded and finally smiled. "I bet you do. Arranging a funeral like this for someone you barely knew? That was really great. Everyone's really grateful."

"It's no big deal," I said. "I love this family." I reached out and touched her shoulder reassuringly. I love the feel of a wool sweater on bare skin, and with the smell of her dark red hair still lingering around my face, I felt like I needed to get away quickly. She leaned forward for another hug.

And then her mouth was on mine. It wasn't even a kiss--more intense than that. Her mouth was moving with a hungry intensity that wouldn't be denied. It took me a second to realize through my shock that I was kissing her back. I pressed her frame into mine, trying to pull her into me. All I knew was that I needed that smell, that taste, immediately.

She broke away, and I looked at her. The moment hung on a thread. We could walk away and pretend this had never happened, but there would be no going back if we went any further. Neither of us had the self-control for that.

"Where?" she whispered.

"Upstairs," I said.

We stumbled up the stairs, as quietly as we were able. She turned the second she made it to the top and wrapped her arms around my neck again. Like something out of a movie I backed her into the first door in the upstairs hallway. Fortunately, a bedroom. Some kind of child's bedroom. Rocket ships and dinosaurs on the walls.

Her fingers were fumbling at my belt, even as I was trying to undo the button on her black jeans. If either of us had stopped for a moment to undo our own damn pants we might have been at it in a second, but we were too focused on what we wanted, on our greedy need to get the other's clothes off, to reason our way through the situation.

I pushed her down on to the floor finally undoing the snap of her jeans and yanking them down her legs. The house was cool, and the warmth of her skin underneath me was welcoming. I buried my face in her neck, lost in the smell of her hair, even as she groaned and ground her hips against me. My hand was underneath her sweater, running up the smoothness of her side, around the soft cups of her bra.

"Quit dicking around," she hissed. "Just fuck me."

She wriggled her panties down while I was hooking one thumb under my boxers to pull them away, finally exposing my dick, so ready by now that a drop of cum was already splashing down on her. The moment I felt it drip, I had a chilling thought.

"I don't have--" I started, but she cut me off.

"I don't care," she said, shaking her head. Her hair was fanned out around her, and she had never looked sexier. She wiggled back and forth, pulling her jeans down and kicking them away. "I just need you so bad. Please, quit talking."

I grabbed my cock with one hand and guided it in. She was tight, so tight, just like Jane.

"Uhhhh, god," she groaned. She lolled her head back, not looking at me. Her cheeks were red, and I could see the shame on her face, but I was past caring now.

I slid my dick home, and found it to be just like coming home. So like Jane, but so different. Jane was passive, where Violet was active. Her hips undulated underneath me, setting up a rocking motion that carried sensations I can only imagine through her cunt. She was a woman who was in charge of her own pleasure, and knew what she wanted and how to get it.

"F-fuck," she stammered, whispering. Her voice was high and delicate, like thin china. "F-fuuuuuck..." I could see her eyes open, but she still wouldn't look at me.

I wriggled my pants further down and off, spreading my legs to get a better position. Heedless of where we were, I slid some of the dirty laundry underneath Violet's back, lifting her ass just a little more off the ground. I returned to her pussy with a better angle, and saw her mouth widen.

"Holy shit," I whispered.

"I needed this so fucking bad," she squealed. "I needed to be fucked so bad."

I reached down and put my hand behind her head, turning her face towards me.

"Don't turn away," I said. "I want to look at you." I leaned over and kissed her lips. Even as her hips rolled back and forth, working my dick as hard as it was working her, her mouth moved against my own, biting my lips, sucking against me. Her hands grabbed at my shirt, pulling me against her. 

"You have no idea how long I've wanted this," I said, leaning back and running my hands under her sweater again. Her hips were moving faster, and beads of sweat were forming on her face. We had no idea if anyone had missed us, and the danger of what we were doing was starting to have a telling effect.

"Shut up and fuck me." She pulled the sweater off, leaving her round tits to sway from our motion. I don't know why a woman in a bra is so sexy to me, but the sight just thrills me. I spread her legs farther apart and surged into her. Her back arched as a shiver shot through her.

Her legs wrapped around me, and she pulled me in to her again. We were pressing as close as we could, craving as much flesh to flesh contact as possible. I could feel the tightness in her body, the same tension I felt when Jane was close, so close. Her breaths came in ragged gasps as she stroked her pussy on my dick, rocking her hips over and over again trying to reach that final peak. I buried my face in her neck again, my hands gripping tightly on her ass as I rammed into her rocking hips. 

"Oh," she hissed in my ear. "Oh, fuck. Fuck me Jake. I need this so much. I need to feel this so bad. I'm not going to last much longer. I'm almost there. I'm almost there. I'm almost there. I want to do it so bad, I'm going to--" 

She stiffened, and I could feel her whole body start to shake. "Oh, GOD," she squealed, trying to stay quiet in the throes of her orgasm. "I'm fucking CUMMING and it feels so fucking GOOD!" She slammed her hips into me, trying to squeeze every last iota of pleasure out. "Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck meeee..."

I stiffened myself, and started fucking her faster as I felt her pussy flood. The site of a hot woman orgasming is the one thing guaranteed to make me cum, and I was fucking THERE. My dick head was on fire, and she didn't let me go, didn't let up, even as my hips began bucking, losing all control.

"Fuck me," she hissed in my ear, "fuck me with that dick. Fucking let loose. Cum in me, cum in me you fucking....fucking just cum in me!" She threw her head back and squealed through gritted teeth, "I'm fucking coming again so cum in me NOW!"

And I was. Thick, hot spurts of cum shot deep in her, and I buried my face against the side of her throat to muffle my own scream as I came. 

In the wake of it, I lifted myself off of her, my knees shaky. The silence in the room was telling, but when I looked at her face, the shame was gone.

"Should we be sorry?" I asked.

"Fuck no," she sighed.



Hungry Sex Born Out Of Frustration



Why is it when your in a hurry you catch every traffic light and the person in front of you appears to be out on a Sunday drive! I was running late to see a really sexy man and was aching for some really great sex.

I'd spent ages deciding what to wear, corsets, should it be the black or cream, stockings or hold ups or burlesque corset – decisions, decisions! I finally decided I'd try out my new purchase, an all in one fishnet body stocking, I think that will surprise him, and wondered what reaction I would get when he saw me in it? Just the thought of this was making me wet and horny.

Oh no, now its standstill, dual carriageway and its stop go! Then something made me look into the car adjacent to me and there he is, grinning at me. My face obviously telling him how frustrated I was at being held up to meet him. 

He poked his tongue out at me laughing. Then he licked his lips, slowly as if it was my pussy lips he was licking, he's teasing me. Even from where I was sat I could see in his eyes he was feeling as horny as I was. Feet away from me, knowing his cock would be hard, and my pussy so wet was making my nipples go hard at the anticipation of us meeting and increasing the intensity of wanting this man.

Side by side our cars moved, he indicated for me to wind down my window as he had just done. He shouts over to me,

"It won't be long, I'll be holding you and we'll be enjoying each other – I am going to make you so wet, and going to fuck you all night!"

I look around wondering what the other car occupants are thinking about this exchange. He laughs he's not embarrassed but he knows I am. I'm trying to ignore him, but failing dismally.

Next time I glance at him he's making as if he's feeling and rubbing his nipples, I know that's what he wants to do to mine, and mine are responding, feeling hard and tight against my top. They are aching for his touch.

Five minutes later and we reach the turn off, only a few minutes more and we will be at the hotel of our rendezvous.

We arrive together and park next to each other. He comes round and opens my door. I feel his arms around me and out lips touch, we are both hungry for each other, I can tell from his breathing and the way he is touching me. We grab our bags and stroll over to the hotels reception, holding each other tight as we go and smiling as we walk, knowing what is to come.

Luckily the reception area is quiet so we get our keys quickly. Walking down the corridors to the room I can feel his eyes on my ass, I know he's thinking I'm going to have that ass tonight, just as I know I'm going to play with his.

He opens the door and we go in. The air is electric with longing and the sexual need of us both. Our bags are thrown on the floor, and our arms are around each other. 

Frantically we're pulling at each others clothes, the top layers are discarded.

"Oh my god" he says when he sees my body stocking. "Take off all your other clothes" he demands in that authoritative tone he has.

I stand there just in the stocking; he drinks in the sight of me standing there. My nipples are hard against the net. My pussy is wet, they need his attention. I grab his shirt and rip it open the buttons go flying, he looks surprised but then he grabs the front of my stocking and he rips that apart. The top half falls down so I'm just stood in what looks like stockings.

His mouth sucks one of my nipples, while his hand feels the wetness of my pussy. I'm gasping for more and tell him. He quickly gets rid of his other clothing and I see his hard cock.

"Where are they?" he asks me.

"In my bag" I say. He unzips my bag and finds my toys.

I feel the vibrator entering my pussy; he thrusts it in deep and hard. I'm pushed back against the bed and then laying on it. He's kneeling beside me using the vibrator to play with my pussy, rubbing it from my clit through my lips into my pussy. I can feel myself getting wetter and wetter. He leaves it inside me, and then both hands are playing with my nipples, I can feel the start of my orgasm.

I moan "harder, harder" he twists my nipple and rams the vibrator in harder. He then flips me over, I'm on my knees. I can feel his cock at the entrance to my ass, he gently enters, but it's not enough I want all of him. I love feeling both my pussy and ass full.

I grab my clit toy and turn it on, he starts to feel the more intense vibration and I can hear his breathing change. I can feel my body changing, the signs of my orgasm building up, it's travelling into my head, I know its coming.

I say "I'm coming" 

He can feel my pussy tensing and twitching, feeling tight against his cock. He thrusts harder and faster. I know it's not going to be long until I come. I start to shudder and he starts moaning. At that moment we feel the same, it's as if we are one and then we're coming together, saying the same things, moaning in the same way.

I don't want it to end, I can feel it coming and coming he can feel it too

"I don't want it to stop" I say

He takes the vibrator out and puts his hand in. He moves it around and finds the spot. I know I'm going to orgasm again but in a different way. He's going to make me gush.

The hand moves, my legs drop wider and then there is this feeling of losing control of everything, my pussy relaxes from the tensions and then I feel it the hot warm feeling and I know I'm gushing. He increases the movement of his fingers and then I feel it splashing all over our bodies, it's as if we're being showered in my hot pussy juices.

We then collapse on the bed, satiated and sexy, our lips meeting to tell each other without words our feelings.

Both of us knowing we have the whole night ahead of us with much more to come..................



Hungry Slut



I can see us at a party. Nothing fancy, just a small dance party thrown by some friends. You've dressed a little slutty, for me, a little provocative in your short skirt and tight shirt, especially because I know your shaven pussy is bare underneath. I can see you from where I am sitting in the corner, and I'm watching you flirt with another man. You're smiling as you sip your beer, and I can see the same dark glow in your eyes as you get when you challenge me. I've got a buzz on myself and a swollen, aching cock in my khakis that I can't wait to bury inside you. You lean in and whisper in the guy's ear, and I can see his eyes widen when he makes out what you're saying. He wastes no time in taking you by the hand and leading you upstairs. I'm a little surprised you were so bold with me in the room, and I can't decide to be angry or turned on that you're acting like such a slut. All I know is I'm not going to let you get away with it.

The bass thumping through the house hides my footsteps as I walk up the stairs. The upstairs of the house is lit only by a few dim lights, making it hard to see where I'm going. A few couples are making out in various stages of drunken love down the hallway, one girl with her shirt already up under her chin and her breasts hanging out for the world to see. I wonder for a minute how I will find you in the dark chaos, until I walk by one of the bedrooms, its door barely ajar. I smile when I do, because I would know that desperate sucking, gulping sound anywhere, any time. I slowly push the door open, willing it not to creak, and watch your hedonistic display.

You're down on your knees, skirt riding up enough to hint at the wet darkness underneath. Your hands rest on your new lover's hips, urging him on as his cock slides in and out of your hungry mouth. Your hair is tousles, hanging low over your eyes, and already a hint of saliva glistens on your chin. My already painfully hard cock swells even further at the sight. Your anonymous partner stands over you, the tone to his groans making it obvious he can't believe his luck. Both his hands rest passively on your shoulders, and I shake my head in disgust to see it. I take one step into the room and his head turns, eyes widening as he takes me in. It's obvious he's wondering if he's about to get his ass kicked. You're far too caught up in the cock you're savoring to notice.

I start speaking just as he's opening his mouth to start babbling excuses. "You're not doing it right." I see you start at the sound of my voice and you turn your head a bit to look at me, but like the slut you are you don't let the cock slip out of your mouth. I walk over before the guy can pull away and wrap my fingers in your hair, forcing your head down further. We both hear you choke as his cock pushes into your throat and I can see his hands tighten on your shoulders. I hold you there until you start to struggle, only letting you pull away when your nails start digging into his hips. I smirk over at the guy whose dick you've been sucking. "She prefers it rough. Don't let her up until she starts to gag. Don't worry... she knows her place." I unzip my khakis and pull out my already hard cock. "Don't you, slut?"

Immediately you let fall your new friend's dick and wrap your hungry lips around my shaft. The guy strokes his wet cock while he watches you gobble mine. I keep my hand in your hair and pump in and out of your mouth vigorously, listening to you gurgle as you do. Seeing your slightly glassy stare, I can tell you're a little drunk and loving every moment of your display. I pull out suddenly, leaving a trail of saliva between me and your dark, slightly swollen lips, and I slap you gently across the cheek. "Don't forget about your friend."

Soon you have a cock in either hand, dipping your head first one way and then the other, sucking each dick in turn. Every time my cock enters your warmth I push in deep, not stopping until I hit the back of your throat, and keep you there until you gag. Your friend isn't quite as rough but its easy to tell he enjoys degrading you, smearing his sticky head across your face every time you turn to him. And by the heavy breathing and increasingly wet blowjobs you're giving us both, I know you love it too.

I lift you by the hair, forcing you to scramble to get your sandaled feet under you in time. "Bend over the bed," I instruct you in a voice hoarse with desire. "You can keep using her mouth," I tell your friend, "But her cunt belongs to me." You bend over, trembling with anticipation, and I rub my cockhead up and down your soaking wet pussy. It immediately starts weeping its juice all along my dick, and when I push into you there's almost no resistance at all from your sopping wet hole. Your moan is muffled when the man pushes his dick back into your mouth, and I immediately start fucking you hard. I push my pants down further and seize your hips in both hands, taking you rough and fast. Each time I push in my balls slap against your clit, making you whimper, and the force pushes you further along the cock in your mouth until it rubs against the back of your throat. The tight, rhythmic squeezes of your soaked pussy push me rapidly towards the edge, and by the grunt of the man fucking your mouth it rapidly becomes apparent he's feeling the same way. "I'm gonna cum," he grunts as he grinds your face into his groin.

"Pull out and cum on her face." I grit my teeth, trying to hold on. "That's where the bitch likes it." As soon as his cock leaves your mouth he starts to spurt, splashing his cum across your lips and cheeks. He jacks off, smearing his cum around your face while you moan and squirm on my cock.

I slap your ass hard. "NOW," I tell you. You whip around, mouth already open and desperate. The air, so much colder than your wet pussy, kisses my cock as I jerk off, adding my cum to the already sticky mess your face has become. Your makeup has run, leaving you looking bedraggled and slutty--and incredibly beautiful. My head reels as I cum, milking the last few drops into your mouth for you to taste, and I sag onto the bed. Looking up I notice your friend has left, leaving you curled around my leg and your head in my lap like a kitten seeking comfort and attention. I stroke your hair while you delicately lick my cock clean, looking up at me with those immensely dark eyes, your cumstained face an image of unholy beauty. I smile down at you tenderly, though part of me even now wants nothing more than to grip you by the throat and savage your body until you plead with me to stop. "My sweet pet," I murmur. "You still remember who you belong to, don't you?"

"Yes, Sir," You whisper. "You. Always you." 



Hungrypet Meets Her Match



Post Red Wing celebrations were winding down, another Saturday night with not much going on in town, most of the guys were hanging out at the bars still looking for Ms. Right...translation ... whoever they could talk into going home with them for a quickly.

I had been preoccupied with the playoffs and neglected my usual weekend entertainment. So I decided to check out a few rooms. Wandering in and out, finding some pretty lame conversations for this late on a weekend. Some too political, some too politically correct. Who really cares if Domino's pizza uses real cheese or processed cheese...? or if the Priest that was at the parish in the town you grew up in was doing the wild thing in the confessional...? or if we should let the forest fires burn occasionally to naturally clear out of the underbrush....?

I was looking for something, well, deeper shall we say. Mmmmm yes, deeper. So I continue wandering. Bowl of hot buttered popcorn on the table with a cold soda on hand. In and out of the rooms with the most interesting names first. 'Call me daddy', 'The dungeon', 'The playhouse', 'TreatFem likehOre'... 

"now that looks like fun...but only 2 people there, I was hoping for a little more activity", but I logged in. 

Instant intense heat.... 

BigNtasty has entered the room 

Hungrypet... let me suck Your cock, Sir.

BigOne... take it slut

Hungrypet... You know I need it

BigOne... spanking your ass slut, I will give you what you need as you need it.

Hungrypet... ohhhh please Sir.

"Wow, this is what I was looking for," eyes wide staring at the screen.

Hungrypet... Hi tasty.. may I please suck Your cock while BigOne takes my ass?

BigNtasty.... Mmm yes, you may.

Hungrypet... oh You are so tasty Sir, just what I needed

and soooo BIG and thick and hard.

My hand was already searching for my cock that was pressing against my jeans. It hurt and needed out! Typing with one hand and unzipping with the other trying to keep up with this unbelievably hot slut. And trying to get hold of some of the gang to get on-line.... and not wanting to loose track of the conversation. My mind was racing in so many different directions.

We continued chatting for about 45 minutes. This was the hottest bitch I've ever come across. She was the real thing. She wanted to get fucked, she wanted to be spanked.... she needed it. She needed my cock. She needed my cum. I finally found a true sub. she needed my training to hone her skills. 

After the other guy left the room we continued in our own room that she created. Oh my gosh... I've never cum so hard or so much in one night. I could imagine all of my fantasies coming true with this one. She was ready for it. She was a real slut. A cockslut, a fuckslut, a suckslut, a cumslut, a displayslut, a gangbangslut... so many sluts all in one... and I've got her screen name. now to work on real time. 

I tried to get her to tell me her location ... she was a bit shy about doing that.... I don't blame her there are a lot of pervs out there. a bit more time with her and I know I would convince her.

I signed off and pulled my cock for a long time thinking about her and pleasure I would enjoy from her. I woke the next morning with a raging hard on... lingering dreams of that slut... "it must have been a dream, I'll try emailing her later today to get more info. now though I've got to take care of my stiff cock!"

I jerked it for a long time before it finally spurted out what was left of the cum in my aching sack, my cock was so sore from all the pulling last night. Coating it with oil usually helps but I pulled it alot.

After a long hot shower I signed on and composed a letter to Hungrypet. telling her how incredibly hot she was and inviting her to a party my friends and I were having next week.... hit send.... and ugh.... it was a dream. she isn't real. I went back to the room we were in and a few other rooms asking around for her. no one had seen her or heard of her. she was a dream. this was so anticlimactic. my dick was aching and near death, and my mind was racing. not a good combination.

I existed through the day just like any other but couldn't shake the images. she had to be real. I couldn't have dreamed her up... most of the bitches that I dreamed up weren't that good. 

I thought I would make another attempt to spot her tonight. "maybe I spelled it wrong or something?" 

I was obsessed with her. this is crazy. I've got to have her. I told the guys all about her, they didn't believe me. I was shaking my head on this one.

Todd and Rich called and convinced me that a cold one would go down smooth tonight. a few of our other friends are meeting us. didn't take much arm twisting and I was out the door. 

I was dying to tell them about the slut I met, but what good would it do if I couldn't produce! After a couple of beers I kind of stepped into it. I told them all about my experience and how amazing she was... they wanted more. I had to tell them that she was gone. Of course, they thought I was full of it, they ribbed me for a long time about this imaginary slut. I took the kidding in course and headed home. 

One last shot. Deflated, I signed on... and right there plain as the bulge in my jeans... Hungrypet. I set her up on my buddylist just in case.

B... H, were the hell have you been?

H... B, I'm here now.

B... I tried to write and it said there wasn't an account.

I thought I imagined the whole thing.

H... sorry, 

B... told all of my buddies about you and they are 

craving more info.

B... do you have a pic?

H... sure do... just a sec.

Hearing that familiar "You've Got Mail" my heart beat faster. Opening the amazing pic of her legs covered in dark stockings and a tiny fabric triangle covering her bush.

B... OMG... incredible... 

H... thank You, so flattering that You think so.

B... yes, I do and they will too.

B... they want you to come to a get together next weekend.

H... k

H... where?

B... a small club near Lakeland and Jefferson.. Grosse Pointe.

H... Mmm sounds fun.... what kind of get together?

B... a cigar party.

H... Mmmmmm tell me more....

I went on to explain the details and she was very attentive... what a good little pet. She promised to give it serious consideration and to discuss this with her Master.

B... H, just sent your pic off to the gang. 

already some feedback.

H... Oh.. thank You. i'm eager to meet and please.

B... How will you please this group, H?

H... I would spread myself like a banquet before 

them. reclined on a table for them to taste and 

nibble and eat and drink.

H... Six pairs of hands, six sets of eyes, six hard

thick cocks, six tongues.

H... three empty holes waiting to be filled. two hands

aching to stroke. one bottom needing a firm spank. 

B... You are hungry pet.

stroking My hard cock for you.

H... please take what is Yours, Sir.

needing to please You.

She begged me until I came at the image on screen.

B... I need more pics, H.

I'll be waiting.

and I signed off.

The next day I printed a bunch of the pics she sent and distributed them to the gang and whoever else would look. He incredible body was being seen by dozens of guys. 

"I wonder if she realized how many cocks are stiffening for her?," I said as I admired those curves, that hot triangle patch pointing out her hot spot.

I came again this time spurting streams onto the photograph. Covering that sweet bitch with creamy white cum. Wanting to have this real time.

I got back online, this time the mail went through. I was encouraged. she didn't disappear on me today! 

The next day, back online, she was gone. "What the fuck is up with this?"

No sooner did the thought process that "Hungrypet" appeared. She explained in an IM that this is her playname... a very naughty name that she has to keep private. But that she would soon be able to chat more freely... she would let me know soon.

In the meantime, I set up a new chatroom for her and my friends. and gangbanged her for a couple of hours... if she was really cumming as much as she said she was she was going to be raw and exhausted. I had a feeling she was. My dick hadn't been stroked this much in a long time and it needed it. I needed this slut and I knew she would be mine.

The next day an email appeared with a new pic and a new name sub4BT. Eagerly I opened it. "Oh man... the most incredible glistening pink lips I've ever seen!" I said out loud to my monitor. My dick stiffened... grinning... "Pavlovian," I thought, "Who's training who here. I see her or her screen name and I harden for her. This is crazy. I've got to talk her into a meeting." 

I jerked my cock hard and fast and came for her, imagining her sweet thighs spread wide for me. Spraying those full cuntlips. I was determined to find her. I called all my buddies and told them to call in whatever favors they had to with whoever they had to... we had to find her.

I had two presentations at work today and I knew I wouldn't be able to concentrate on them. You would think that a sore cock would be enough to stop my mind racing. It just made it worse. Every time I moved I felt the tingle in my shorts that reminded me of her. In the middle of one presentation I was trying to explain to the board members what they needed to do and I almost botched it.

"Gentlemen," I began calmly, "we will need to ready ourselves to take whatever measures necessary to take her," without realizing what I said but seeing all of the puzzled looks.

One of the members, an old stuffed shirt, cleared his throat and repositioned in his seat. I leaned in to one of the members closest to me and questioned what I said that caused this. He laughed and told me. I reddened a bit and excused my misspoken phrase and continued. It took everything I had to concentrate on every word that I spoke.

I finished the presentation and packed up quickly and got out of there. Alex stopped me on the way out. The guy who told me of my mishap. 

"Hey, guy, what's up with the 'taking her' thing... you dog. 'fess up, you've got a live one don't You?"

"yeah," I confessed, "this one is a real slut and we do have to take whatever measures necessary to take her! You want in on this? I'm hoping to get her to come to the card game." I said eagerly.

"count me in. if she makes You fuck up in the middle of a board presentation she's got to be good. You always maintain."

"I'll forward You some of the mail she's sent me. She's unreal... I just hope she's real."

A couple of days passed with plenty of chatting and cumming and late nights and blurry-eyed meetings and a few more photos swapped. A couple of the guys took some self portraits hoping to lure her. She hungrily commented on them and chatted about all of them. I learned more about her hungers and her moods. The gang was getting closer to figuring out her location. She would try to throw us off her scent... but that juicy wet cunt gave us more than enough drive. Like dangling a rabbit in front of the hounds on a racetrack. 

We knew she was from a small community and had lived there all her life. She had a job working in a larger company in marketing. And the most fun of all she looked like a very conservative straight-laced business woman. Pinstriped suits and all. Her clients probably had no idea what she had on underneath those pinstripes! or did they? 

As summer hit it's height the gang was at a fever pitched frenzy. They were so close to tracking her. They knew her fantasies and were ready to make them happen. 

Todd found the marketing firm she worked with, and developed a way to make contact that she would never suspect us. He made an appointment for a consultation for advertising of a new company in the area that wanted to start a huge campaign to launch their product. A new piece of exercise equipment that would be sold to local gyms. 

Todd and I met her at 12:30 for a lunch consultation and were immediately taken by her. We knew she had to be our Hungrypet. A few discrete questions ... just bordering on personal and we had a lock. 

"So you grew up in this area?," I asked politely.

"Oh yes, born and raised!" she said proudly.

"And your parents and family are still here?"

"No unfortunately my parents both died, but I live in the house I grew up in... that's sort of fun!"

The banter went on until we were sure it was her, not just a coincidence. Within minutes we were both grinning from ear to ear and couldn't hide it. 

"Well, you guys sure are nice and friendly. I told you most of my life story and didn't do much to tell you about marketing your product. That's pretty bad, I don't usually do that."

"That's all right, it's nice to know the people you're working with more intimately so that you know what it is that pleases them," I stated boldly.

"Yes, I agree. Usually though I get to know you and your needs not the other way around. But this was fun for a change. On the other hand... I think I wasted your afternoon and now I have to make it to my next appointment, so I have to leave you. My apologies gentlemen, I do hope you would consider another meeting. After my next appointment I'm open for the rest of the afternoon. If that would work for you just call my voice mail and let me know."

Warm handshakes all round and friendly smiles as she departed. Did she detect the devilish grins on our faces when she turned for a last glance as she hailed a cab at the curbside? I hope so.

The general plans were laid before our afternoon meeting. After hearing that her afternoon would be free we had to move quickly to make it all happen. Some quick cell calls and everything was good to go.

As she requested I called her voicemail and left her a message that we would meet her in the late afternoon at a small warehouse on the north side of town that we were using for our manufacturing.

It was a beautiful hot summer afternoon and she drove a small sporty convertible. Perfect for an afternoon abduction. Mmmmmm. She pulled up and stared at the building for a few moments before heading for the door. Her small frame and elegant stride was contrasted by the large warehouse door and crumbling brick. She looked incredible walking to the door.

We told her we were in the upper loft and that she had to take the freight elevator. She walked in and in her soft voice called into the empty room.

"Hello, anyone home?" echoing through the concrete space.

Not hearing an answer she began to walk across the room toward the elevator. I heard her high heels clicking as she walked.

She pressed the lever and the freight elevator door opened. As she stepped onto the elevator two of the guys grabbed her. One quickly covering her eyes with a black blindfold and filled her mouth with a ballcock. The other took her arms and brought them behind her back and tied them tightly.

Her heart was racing and she tried to scream. She was gasping for air and thrashing a bit. Her skirt was hiking up her thighs and revealing her stocking legs and tiny thong. 

The elevator reached the loft and they stepped out dragging her with them. They tossed her onto a pile of pillows. She was breathing deeply trying to catch her breath and calm her thoughts. Her mind was racing. She kept thrashing. 

I came behind her and took the gag from her mouth. She sucked in air fast. Breathing deeply in through her nose and out her mouth. She didn't want to pass out. She began calling out. 

"Todd are you here?... Alex? if this is a joke of some kind stop! Please!" she was trying to hear, to feel, anything.

We all stood and watched. She made her way to her knees. 

"Please guys this isn't funny. Please." she was begging a tear fell from under the blindfold. 

I grabbed her by her hair and pulled her head back. Her mouth opened beautifully. And I pressed my bulge into her mouth. One of the guys hollered out to her, "You want it slut don't you...?"

A small, almost inaudible word escaped from her lips.... "yes."

Her skirt was still pulled up over her hips her bottom was bare. So spankable. I couldn't resist. One swift smack across her bottom. Reddening it very quickly. It was time to take her like the slut she showed us online. 

We tore off her clothes and spread her legs. Fucking her ass and cunt at the same time. One of the guys stuffed her mouth with his cock. Taking her quickly and cumming hard and fast. Her mouth remained open. A cum receptacle.

I leaned into her and whispered, "Hungrypet, it's time for your fantasy to come true."

She sucked air in deeply and gave in.

They took her endlessly that afternoon. Changing places and feeding her various cocks. Spanking and cumming. Not allowing her to cum. She didn't get that pleasure until much later. After her performance they would have to see if she was deserving of that pleasure.

She was the perfect slut, spreading her legs for them. Holding their cocks in her mouth. In her hands... gripping firmly, stroking and pleasing. She was the slut they had dreamed of and they were gangbanging her like she always wanted.

Never allowed to remove the blindfold, she had to guess if it was Todd and me that were there. She would occasionally turn her ear in the direction of my voice and I would have to speak very carefully.

When we were finished with her she was given instruction not to leave for 10 minutes and not to remove the blindfold until the elevator door closed.

She did as instructed, I knew she would. She gathered herself and headed for the door grabbing her briefcase and cell phone as she did. 

A voice mail. She would check it in the car. Hopping in and glancing around quickly to check any lingering strangers lurking about... what was she looking for she didn't know any of them. Her mind raced. 

Finally getting her thoughts together she remembered the voicemail. The callers voice was familiar. It was Alex. "Hi, I thought we had an appointment at the loft? What happened, I waited for a while then something came up and I had to go. Call when you get an opportunity."

She could have sworn that it was him with the rest of that gang today..... but.... 

She called him, he was at a local watering hole with his buddies. "Come on up, you sound like you could use a bit of R&R. Did you have a hard day? I've got some friends here that I would like you to meet. Maybe we could finally find out what happened to you this afternoon."

She promised to stop for a few minutes but she really was behind schedule now and needed to catch up with clients. 

"We'll see about that!" chuckled Alex.