by R S Holloway
“I’ve slept in the rain before, you know,” she said teasingly. Cain wagged his tail and shoved her toward her tent. Amy scooped up her pack and let the wolf push her into the open tent. She quickly zipped up the tent flap just as the first few drops of rain began to fall.
Tent closed, the wolf pounced, driving Amy backwards onto a pile of sleeping bags and clothes. It lay atop her, tail wagging merrily and mouth open in a doglike laugh.
Amy couldn’t help it. She reached up and scratched the inviting ears, laughing a little when Cain leaned into her touch. “You’re just a big puppy, aren’t you?”
At that, Cain leaned down and gave her a long wet swipe over her cheek. Amy laughed more and lightly swatted at him. He ducked his muzzle under her hand and laid it next to her neck.
She felt rather than clearly saw him change again, his rough wolf’s form suddenly becoming the more familiar shape of a man’s body over hers, his breath hot on her skin. She was acutely aware that he was still naked and felt strangely unbothered by the fact. Her own loins seemed to be heating up in response to the muscular man above her.
“Not just anyone can catch me,” he said. He moved as if to kiss her, then hesitated. “May I?”
Amy grabbed two handfuls of his hair and pressed her lips to his. Her tongue darted out, seeking company with his, and her body exploded in goose bumps at the taste of him. His hands tugged gently at the buttons of her shirt, slowly opening it to reveal her bra. He reared back over her, lifting her gently forward by the shoulders to guide her out of the open shirt. He unhooked her bra deftly and tossed it into a corner of the tent.
“I could make you like me, you know,” he said, one hand cupping her left breast. “You could change like I do. At will. All that moon stuff is nonsense, and the only times people lose control is when the new smells and sounds get overwhelming.”
“What happens then?” Amy asked.
Cain grinned. “Usually? A few chickens go missing. No wolf will attack a human unless they’re starving.”
Amy thought a moment, but she realized she’d long ago made this decision, over the months of tracking the werewolf. “How?” she said, feeling she already knew the answer.
“Well,” Cain said, bending down to kiss her neck. “This,” he continued, his words broken up by more kisses, “is the most enjoyable way.”
Amy could feel him hardening against her, and her own desire awakened fully. Cain pressed her back to lie beneath him, mouth working against hers. His beard brushed against her skin as his tongue worked downwards to toy with a nipple. “I just need to come in you. Mouth or pussy, it doesn’t matter,” he pulled his head away. His fingers took the place of his tongue, kneading her breast and gently flicking the erect nipple. “You okay with just the mouth?”
“Yes,” Amy said instantly. “I’d be okay with it even if you weren’t, you know.” She meant it, too.
Cain’s face was suffused with pleasure. “I would still like to make love to you though.” The phrase sounded archaic coming from the woodsman.
Amy unbuttoned the fly of her pants. “Good,” she said. “Make me come, then I’ll make you come.”
Cain eagerly helped her strip out of her pants, followed swiftly by her underwear. He trailed his tongue along her stomach, pausing to nip lightly at her hip before softly kissing her thighs. Amy squirmed under him as his bearded face moved closer to her sex, teasing for what seemed an eternity before meeting her wetness with his lips.
His tongue seemed almost impossibly long, sliding into her with amorous dexterity, thrusting and stroking in languid movements that left her breathless. Amy soon found herself clutching the sleeping bags underneath her, clenching her teeth together to muffle her cries of pleasure.
Cain pulled his face away suddenly, her fluids slick on his lips and in his beard. Amy let out a small sound of dismay, which Cain greeted with another smirk. His fingers trailed up her thighs and toyed lightly with the outer parts of her, as though requesting entry. Amy moaned, and finally Cain slid his fingers inside her.
His hands proved to be as skillful as his tongue, fingers thrusting and twisting within her in well-practiced motions. The rain pouring down on top of the tent wasn’t loud enough to completely mask the wet sounds of flesh entering flesh, and even the thunder couldn’t drown out Amy’s sharp cry as Cain once again bent his head to her, tongue flicking over her clitoris as his fingers moved inside her.
Amy’s hips bucked upward, pressing her pussy more tightly against Cain’s face. He obliged by pushing her back downward and increasing the speed of his movements, both fingers and tongue frantically working against and within her. Heat and cold rolled over Amy’s body in turn as her pleasure mounted, finally cresting in a shivering series of spasms that left her trembling with the exertion.
Cain pulled his fingers out of her and kissed her stomach tenderly before gently parting her legs a bit more. His hand went to his own cock, stroking it until it stood at full attention, primed for entry. Amy’s eyes went wide as she finally allowed herself a close look.
“Be gentle,” she murmured.
“Of course,” Cain said, rising over her. True to his word, he guided himself in gently, slowly pushing himself into Amy’s body. He remained perfectly still for a moment, his cock fully enveloped in her flesh, before withdrawing and returning to position for the first thrust.
“God, you’re amazing,” Cain moaned, pulling back again. This time, Amy brought her hips up to meet his, forcing him deeper inside of her. The two moved rhythmically, gradually increasing speed until the sound of flesh slapping against flesh resounded in the tent even more loudly than the rain.
At the peak of one thrust, Amy pushed gently backwards on Cain’s chest. He paused, head tilted questioningly. Amy twirled a finger in a small circle.
“On your back,” she clarified. A grin slowly spread over Cain’s face as comprehension dawned, and the two lovers swapped places.
Squatting over Cain, Amy lowered herself onto his cock, balancing herself with one hand placed firmly on his hairy chest. As her hips rocked, she leaned forward in order to thrust downward more savagely. He really was almost too big to take in; his cock seemed to fill her up completely inside, as though it were trying to become a part of her.
Their lips met again, tongues dancing together briefly before Amy daringly nibbled Cain’s lower lip. He groaned beneath her, hands reaching up to her hips. He latched on, taking most of her weight in his burly arms and pulling her down over him with more speed and force than she could manage alone.
“Enough,” he said finally. “I can’t take much more.”
Atop him, Amy grinned fiendishly and licked his earlobe. She took it in her mouth, simultaneously sucking the sensitive bit of flesh in her mouth and clenching herself around Cain’s cock.
“Girl,” he managed, gasping for breath. “You’re going to get yourself in trouble like that.”
Amy started to reply, Good, but Cain moved more quickly than she. He shoved her off of him, nimbly half-catching her so she tumbled lightly to the spot where he had been laying, neatly exchanging their positions once again.
“You’re going to suck me off,” Cain said, taking Amy’s hand. Eyes locked with hers, he guided her hand to his cock, which was still wet and fully erect from being inside her. Obediently, Amy wrapped her fingers around the uncircumcised shaft and began pumping. Cain thrust his hips gently to correspond with the motion of her hand. “Do you want to taste me?” Something in the curl of his lip suggested the merest hint of a domineering sneer.
Amy could handle that. “More than that,” she said, voice lowered to a purr. “I want you to fuck my face. Make me your bitch.”
Cain laughed gently at the pun and moved forward until he was sitting between Amy’s legs. She bent, making sure to make a show of her body – her large breasts and flat stomach were of particular pride to her – as she lay before him.
She had thought to tease him as he had her, but Cain grabbed hold of her hair
and brought her mouth immediately to the tip of his cock. She brought her pink tongue out to swirl around the tip, tentatively tasting him for the first time. At first he tasted largely of herself, a faintly bitter flavor. Underneath, however, was a more powerful taste. Slightly musky and masculine, it was far from unpleasant. Feeling his hand on the back of her head, she wasted no more time and slid her lips over his cock.
Cain turned out to be one of those men who did a large amount of the work when receiving oral, rocking his hips and keeping his hand on the back of her neck to keep her in position. Amy merely had to adjust their angle slightly so she could take in his whole length without gagging and work her tongue over the moving foreskin.
“That’s right, you little whore,” Cain growled. “Take all of it.”
Amy moaned enthusiastically, her lips buzzing around Cain’s engorged member. His motions grew more frenzied, the hand at the nape of her neck twisting into her hair as obscenities poured from his mouth. Suddenly, his thrusting ceased, and his grip on her hair held her fast to his cock. He spasmed against her, and his seed gushed onto Amy’s tongue, hot and lightly salty.
“Swallow it!” Cain gasped, still holding her tightly. Amy did so, her throat and tongue struggling against his cock which had only just started to deflate in her mouth. Finally, his grip relaxed and Amy pulled away, swallowing reflexively a few more times to ensure she had consumed everything he had given her.
The two coiled together in the tent, languid limbs tangling as the lovers listened to the storm outside.
“How will I know if it worked?” Amy asked at length. She wouldn’t mind, she decided, if it turned out that they had to repeat the exercise a few times over. A dozen times, even.
“When the storm lifts,” Cain said, “we’ll go outside and see.”
Amy found it difficult to relax. Her arms and legs seemed to want to move on their own, and she turned a few times in Cain’s unprotesting arms, trying to find a comfortable position.
“Restless, dear?” he asked, his voice amused.
Amy tried to reply, but her voice came out as only a strangled growl. Startled, she cleared her throat and tried again. “A bit, yes.”
Cain’s smile came lazily. “I can see that we won’t need to worry about the trait not taking hold. Come on.” He sat up and stretched, clumsily crawling over to the tent flap. He unzipped it partway, seeming to check the weather before throwing it open.
Amy leapt for the opening, the smells of the wet forest impossibly strong, a kaleidoscope of brilliant scents. “It’s beautiful,” she gasped.
“Change,” Cain told her.
Amy found she didn’t need to ask how. Smiling at the simple joy of it, she stretched her arms to the clearing night sky as Cain had earlier. Becoming a wolf took only a thought, and her legs and arms twisted. Her eyesight subtly shifted, and luxurious fur grew over her naked skin.
Beside her, Cain had also shifted. He pressed his muzzle to hers, then let out an excited yelp.
Amy understood, and the two werewolves ran off into the night to test her new legs.
****
14. Fucked By A Movie Vamp (Vampires sex)
Every morning she awoke to the sight of a pale, brooding face; full lips, haunting eyes, and skin that sparkled. Sometimes to the point that she had to wear sunglasses to bed.
“OK, so I gotta take my poster collection down.” Sitting up in the sheets of the simple camp bed that formed the center of her cluttered dorm room, Verna Blake ran her chubby fingers through her tangled mass of curly dark hair. She struggled to focus her tired eyes on the wall that formed the left border of the room. She smiled at the sight of a makeshift poster gallery that represented just about every vampire movie released in the past 30 years. Well, at least those that featured really hot vamps.
“It scares away just about every room mate I’ve ever had, the last of which went so far as to wear a garlic sweater vest to bed. The odor almost got us both evicted.”
Her gaze flowed free from one poster to the next, taking in all of the gorgeous actors who had tried their hand at sexy vampire roles. “Sure, my mom would have preferred floral wallpaper and pictures of puppies and flowing brooks.” She rolled her eyes, rising to her feet and stepping in to the fanged bunny slippers that sat on her tiled floor.“To me, though, nothing says home décor like some bare chested, feathered haired dude with painfully sharp fangs.”
And as much as she realized that she should really take down at least some of her vampire posters, she knew that others would take their place; wallpapering her dorm room with numerous examples of what she liked to call the ‘hunky undead.’
Tonight in fact, the 21 year old planned to take in the midnight debut of “Vampire Fantasy”; one in the latest in a long line of thriller movies that were scoring big at the box office.
“Only this one promises to be even more thrilling than most.” She strolled into the bare kitchenette that came complete with a microwave oven, a sink, and a portable fridge. The fridge was topped with an oversized clove of paper mache garlic that was a prank birthday gift from a friend.“I’ve been hearing some mighty strange things about that movie.”
Sure, she’d heard of people fainting at horror movies; their limp, unconscious bodies being carried from the theater and revived before they fled the theater in a state of fear. From what she’d heard, though, several ladies in attendance at “Vampire Fantasy” had been found delirious and barely coherent on the floor. They wore big smiles and threatened to donkey ass kick anyone who tried to take them from the screening room.
“Now that must be one heckuva movie,” she thought, pouring a heaping bowl of Count Chocko Bits cereal. “It also will be my big reward for surviving another finals week, my last in fact before graduation.”
After spending so many recent nights lost in tedious textbooks, she reasoned as she chomped, she deserved to lose herself in a sumptuous dark fantasy. One that allowed her to lose herself in the paranormal netherworld that had intrigued her for so long.
“Yep, I’m all for paranormal netherworlds.” She smirked, depositing her cereal bowl in the depths of her sink.“Especially if they just happen to be populated by impossibly hot vampires.”
Then, walking past the cardboard cutout of Count Dracula that was conveniently situated somewhere between her coat rack and a rotting potted plant in desperate need of water, she headed to her bathroom in search of a shower. A cold one.
****
“Verna, are you still on this planet?”
Noon found Verna on campus at Clearview University, seated in the corner of the student union hall with Taylor Bryant, her best friend of two years.
Blonde and petite, Taylor could barely make it through a campus lunch without encountering some desperate frat boy who begged for her phone number.
Of course, they bug me a lot too, Verna reminisced, settling her fully made form in the booth she shared with the woman who currently held the esteemed title of Miss Clearview U. For Taylor’s phone number. Or, on occasion, for the name of the pizza dish I’m eating or for a peek at my comic book selection.
Today, though, nothing could spoil her divine good mood; or, for that matter, her dreamy disposition that did not go unnoticed by a confused Taylor.
“It’s finals week,” she reminded her friend.“No one has the right to be so—I don’t know….”
“Borderline orgasmic?” Verna tilted her head.
Taylor thought a moment, then nodded with enthusiasm.
“Well, now that you mention it….”
Verna leaned forward across the table, lowering her tone to a confidential whisper.
“After my night class wraps up tonight, Taylor, I’m headed off to see Vampire Fantasy.”
“Vampire Fantasy,” Taylor repeated, stroking her chin in thought.“Never heard of it.”
“Really?” Verna squinted in confusion. “Haven’t you seen the ads for it in the campus newspaper?Haven’t you read all those stories about women fainting and goi
ng all batty at the showings?”
Taylor shook her head.
“Nope.” She replied, still as confused as before.
Verna smiled.
“Taylor, fess up,” she beckoned to her friend, “you haven’t willingly read anything in the campus newspaper except the gossip and the fashion sections since freshmen year.”
Taylor cocked her head.
“Nope.” she again replied.
****
Theater Rouge was far more than a theater, at least to its current visitor. Verna Blake considered this independent movie theater to be the product of fantasy; a multi-level, Victorian style building that boasted stained glass windows, a broad columned front porch, and flag like banners flying from the roof of its arched, cathedral-like top.
Yet tonight she did not pause to marvel at the beauty of the theater, or enjoy the heavenly light of a beautiful full moon. Instead she raced onto the porch with frantic steps, straight in the direction of the row of movie posters that lined the theater front.
After weeks of seeing ads for and reading about this movie in the newspaper, none of the three people I discussed it with today had heard anything about it. And one of them has seen so many movies I fear for his sanity and social life, in equal measure. She bit her lip.
She sighed relieved as she saw the title “Vampire Fantasy” appear on the top of one of the posters, and sighed yet again as she saw the gorgeous image just beneath the title.
She’d never seen the lead actor who played the vampire, but now that she’d witnessed his stunning male beauty, she knew she’d never forget him.
Tall and muscular, the actor boasted a long fall of gorgeous black hair and gem blue eyes. He had full lips, and carved cheekbones that completed a perfect face.
This face led down to a massive bare chest and ripped abs, as well as trim legs clothed in a pair of tight leather pants.
“OK, name please?” Her mouth fell open.“I need to know who I’ve fallen madly in love with, to know the title of the man who will someday bear my children.”