Those sweet buttons grew shiny, drawing up harder and tighter as I rolled them between my thumb and forefinger, squeezing them. She moaned as I pulled them up away from her chest, releasing them and allowing them to snap back.
When my seed had been absorbed completely, I unlaced the bodice of her merry widow, eased the straps off her shoulders and down her arms, semi-binding her with her own clothing.
“I’ve been dying to taste these little candies since you flaunted them at me in the living room,” I informed her, resting my mouth over the first pouting nipple. My tongue flicked and lapped. Swirled and laved. I settled down and played with her breasts until she cried out, bowing up into my embrace, her spine so tight I feared it would snap. Her gasps were music to my ears and I wanted to sing with her, to howl my rising joy and lust. Instead, I contented myself with moving from hillock to hillock, latching onto a pouting blackberry nipple and drawing it between my teeth to worry it gently.
Gods! She tasted sweet.
Using my teeth, my tongue, and the hard suction of my cheeks, I feasted on her, my hands sweeping up and down her sides, then back up to cup the abundance that overflowed my hands. The bra size of her merry widow read 40DD. She had what I called a DH--double handful--and I loved them! Burying my face in the deep crevice between those silky mounds, I plumped them against my cheeks, turning my head from side to side, alternately tasting and nibbling at both her thimble-sized nipples.
I tongued, nipped, and tweaked her breasts, paying close attention to her stiff little chocolate kisses until she cried out again, bucking wildly underneath me. Hungry to experience her wildness at its primal source, I slid down her body, groaning in need. My hands fisted in the skimpy undergarment, dragging it slowly off, uncovering each smooth, generous curve to my appreciative eye.
Lifting her legs one at a time, she helped me ease the flimsy stockings from her luscious body. Capturing a shapely ankle and rubbing my hair-roughened cheek against it, I used my tongue to lick a hot path up her leg to behind her knee.
The hot, sharp scent of her cream assailed my nose and I moaned at the spike of arousal piercing my guts, settling low in my groin.
“Mhhmm! I’ve found a little honey spot back here.” I smiled against the sensitive skin at the bend of her knee, letting her feel my teeth.
“H-h-h-honey spot?” She panted.
“Yeah, babe.” I dipped my tongue into the crease of her knee and lapped at the baby-soft skin, and then slipped a hand between her thighs to gather her oozing honey.
“This spot, here,” I tapped her knee, “produces honey here.” I caressed her stiff clit, circled it twice.
She licked her lips, raised herself in tribute, letting her legs fall open, silently begging for my mouth.
I placed my palms on the inside of her thighs, spreading her wider. What a sight!
Using both thumbs to separate her swollen lips, I gazed with fondness on her fat little clit, glad to see it had recovered somewhat from my earlier onslaught.
Recalling the many ‘how-to’ books on the subject of satisfying your sexual partner I’d read over the years, I shook my head. According to some so-called experts, there are hundreds of ways to eat pussy.
Bullshit! There’s only one right way to eat pussy: with enthusiasm. My past lovers taught me a woman can tell if her lover enjoys going down on her. Half her stimulation and satisfaction comes from knowing her partner loves the taste of her cunt.
I left Melody in no doubt of my fervent affection, falling on her with frantic fingers and tongue, lapping, licking, tonguing, nipping, sucking, thrusting up into that honeyed cavern…all the while letting her know how much I enjoyed her sweet-tasting pussy.
“Gods, Mellie, I love your hot pink pussy! Yeah, baby, open up for me…spread those legs wide…wider, baby.”
Inserting first one finger, then two, I pumped into the liquid depths of her pussy. My thumb circled her clit with teasing touches. “Oh, Mel, I am going to devour this luscious cunt all night long!”
She gasped, started humping her hips up to me, seeking a firmer contact. I teased her, easing back whenever I felt her slipping over the precipice, keeping her on the razor’s edge of coming. I wanted her hotter than she had ever been before, needed to string out her first orgasm for as long as possible.
The sweet counterpoint of her moans and sighs, interspersed with her broken pleas and demands spurred me to higher and ever higher efforts.
“Uuuuhhhhhh! Oh, yeah, do me! Oh, Hunter…harder…like that, do me like that! Just…like that… Push your tongue up in my poontang and make me come…make me scream! Oh, please, Hunter! Yes, lick me! Fuck me with your mouth! Take me higher! I need…you…to… Oh, hell…I’m…oh…oohhhh! Oh, I’m…coming, I’m…yessssss!”
Every ounce, every sweet abundant pound of her flesh joined in her dance of completion. Thighs shaking, belly quaking, her hands fisted in my hair and tugged me where she wanted me to go. Her feet, planted firmly, pushed her wide hips up from the bed, lifting her juicy pussy up to my lips.
Drunk on her sweet essence, head reeling with the dual urges to change and mate, claim and mark, I continued to feast on her succulent cunt. Tonguing her swollen folds, I rooted between her thighs, got a firm grip on her clit and carefully bit down.
Reticent amid our audience in the restaurant, she had been unable to participate freely and fully in her earlier orgasms. Here, in my bed, she rejoiced gloriously in her abandonment. Body jack-knifing, spine bending, she cried out my name. “Hunter…oh, Hun-ter!” Her voice broke on the syllables of my name, her small falter making me feel ten feet tall.
Watching her come moved me more than my own completion ever had. I ached deep inside, battling tears as I witnessed the most profound event of my life. I could spend forever watching this woman peak.
When my thoroughly modern Mellie passed out, swooning from an excess of pleasure, I tucked the event away, planning to tease her about it later. While she rested, I took the opportunity to retrieve the silken ties I had mentioned earlier. The ropes were necessary now.
Handling her gently, I eased her over onto her belly, tying her legs first and binding them firmly to the fat wooden posters of my king-sized bed. Moving to stand between Melody’s bound ankles, I gazed at her deeply reddened pussy, exposed to my view by her outstretched legs. I looked my fill while fisting my cock, my mouth watering anew. I had just gorged myself on that succulent flesh yet here I stood, hungering for another taste.
Her fine bottom rode high and full above her solid thighs, making me regret my impulsive promise not to initiate her into the pleasures of accepting my stiff cock, balls deep, up her ass. I ran my hands over her ass, squeezing her big cheeks, pulling them apart to stare down at the puckered brown rose nestled between her plump hills. Lightly rimming her dark, tight portal with a claw-tip, I growled low in my throat, eager to slide my cock into her forbidden channel. It would not be long before I fulfilled that particular fantasy. Content with the knowledge that I held squatter’s rights to my woman’s prime acreage, I reluctantly backed away, but not before taking the time to thoroughly lavish her tiny rear hole with a few long, sweeping flicks of my broad, rough tongue.
With a sigh and a last lingering swipe, I left her enticing ass and went back to work securing her to the bed. Her hands were next and I allowed more play in the sash, giving her enough length to lift her torso, even hold me if she chose. Normally, I used hemp for the arms, not the softness of the silken sash. Before tonight, I had never wanted the woman’s arms about me, never cared for their comfort to such an extent.
I double-checked my handiwork, assuring myself she could not get loose. That duty done, I went to the dresser and uncapped the thick gel lubricant, smearing a large dollop over my jutting cock. She would need that extra glide. Returning to the bed, I crawled between Melody’s legs and waited for her to wake up.
I Huff and Puff and Blow her Brick House Down
She came to with a frightened start, the musky smell of her
fear causing my nostrils to quiver. Adrenaline rush of any kind lends a spicy flavor to the scent of prey but fear adds the most delicious spice of all. My precarious grip on control slipped another notch.
Tugging frantically on the sashes binding her, she twisted sharply, fighting to win free. For her own safety, I had made it impossible for her to escape.
“Take it easy, I have you,” I murmured as softly as I could, carefully stroking the buttery-smooth, cocoa-tinted skin of her back.
She stilled. Cocking her head, she tried to swing about, searching for me. “Hunter? Is that you? Why are you disguising your voice?”
I understood her confusion. My voice had grown deep and rough with the closeness of impending change, barely recognizable. Already, fur coated my legs and thighs, flowed up my back to my neck. I clung to my humanoid shape by a claw-tip.
“Please do not be frightened, Melody.” Running my tongue over the tender bend between her neck and shoulder, I familiarized myself with her taste while preparing the area for my teeth. “I have to do this right now and in just this way.”
“Do what?” Her voice quivered and she bucked in her silken bonds. Soft but strong, they held her securely. “Why have you tied me up? Oh, my God! Are you going to kill me? Answer me, damn you!”
She slumped in her bindings, her body relaxing in resignation. “What else could I expect, right? After all, you did tell me you were a serial killer…oh, God! I thought you were kidding.”
A heavy sigh rumbled through me. “For crying out loud, Melody, relax. How ridiculous can you be? Of course, I’m not going to kill you. If I’d wanted to do that, I certainly wouldn’t have asked you to marry me.”
“Then why do you have me tied up?”
I resumed stroking her skin, finding it silkier than the cloth that bound her.
“Be patient with me. I’m trying to come up with the words to explain what I am…what I have to do…what is going to happen between us in the next half hour. Right about now, I want to kick myself for promising to always be honest and truthful with you.”
She let her head fall forward as my thumbs rubbed in circular motions, pressing out the knots in her neck.
“Mhhhhmm, oh wow, I love a man who can give a good massage.” Turning her head, the muscles in her neck straining, she glanced over her shoulder, trying to catch a glimpse of my face.
I drew back quickly, not wanting her to see me clearly. Not yet.
“Waking up tied to a bed is not the most reassuring situation for a woman to find herself in, you know. If you’re not planning to murder me and hide the body, you didn’t have to tie me up. I’m not exactly what you would call uncooperative.”
“That can and might change at any moment, darling. I have no idea how you will take my news. You may not want me anymore.”
Her voice gone dreamy with relaxation, she dredged up the gumption to tease me. “Is this where you tell me you don’t like eating poontang? No, wait; let me guess…you don’t really like black chicks, right? I know…you just can’t get into fat gals.” She lowered her head, easing the tension in her shoulders. “Since we both know those are all lies, what could you possibly tell me that would cause me to stop wanting you?”
“Harrumph! You are definitely right about it being none of the above.” Sighing, I eased my hands under her body, palming her full breasts, loving the fact I had to open my fingers wide to encompass her bountiful flesh. Besides my personal preference for a big woman, I prayed her extra cushioning meant she could hold up under some serious pounding. Despite my wishing our first time could be otherwise, she had a bumpy ride ahead of her…and a frightening one.
Burying my face against the side of her neck, I squeezed her round globes, pinching those thick, pouty nipples and pressing her back up tight against my belly. I took a deep breath. The only way to get this done was to get it done.
“I’m what humans would call a werewulf.”
“Oh, you’re into fantasy play! I can get into that. Awooooo.” She made a howling sound, and then giggled. Spreading her legs as far as she could, she thrust her curvy ass up toward me, exposing her dripping pussy. “Come on, you big bad wolf. Eat my little red hood up again!”
“I’m not joking, Melody.” I gave her behind a stinging swat. She howled again, this time in protest, and I quickly rubbed her reddened bottom, soothing the slight sting. Bending down, I planted an apologetic kiss to her rounded cheek.
“Listen, I am not really a werewolf, but that is the closest thing that compares to what I really am. I have a lot in common with the legend of the werewolf, such as having to change on the night of the full moon. Ordinarily, I can change at will. Once a month I am forced into my fur form and retain that shape until I fu--until moon wanes the next morning.”
“I know you can’t really expect me to believe your wild story, Hunter. That would make me as crazy as you are beginning to sound.” She sounded scared. She smelled scared. I knew she had to find this entire, bizarre conversation frightening.
“Please don’t fear me, love.” My hands roved up and down her silken back and hips, across her sloping shoulders. “If you can, control your fear, for fear brings out the beast. I know this all sounds crazy, even impossible, but unfortunately, in a few minutes, I’ll prove it to you.”
Melody stilled beneath me, voice trembling so badly, I could barely make out her words. “Either you are insane, or I have fallen down a rabbit hole.”
Deliberately avoiding her erogenous zones, I massaged the tension from her tight muscles. “The fall itself is okay, what hurts is that damn hard bump when you land,” I murmured, stroking her tangled mass of curls away from her face. I wanted to see her reaction when she caught her first glimpse of me in mid-change form.
She didn’t take it well. Mouth opened in a soundless cry, she bucked away from me, struggling against the silken bindings that held her fast. Her mouth opened again, this time emitting a shrill scream that battered my sensitive eardrums. I’d never heard someone sustain a scream for such a long time, at such a loud level. Finally, all trace of animation left her face, leaving her features waxy and doll-like. Her irises rolled up ‘til only white remained and she slumped to the bed in a dead faint.
At least she had stopped screaming. My ears ringing, I chalked that up as a definite plus. Considering her less than optimal reaction, I figured my best course of action would be to get the hardest part over and done while she was unconscious. Despite her voluptuous size, her vagina was dainty, almost petite, and my cock wasn’t getting any smaller--in fact, just the opposite. Not withstanding the use of the gel lubricant, getting into her tight channel was going to hurt.
By rights, I should shift completely; take her in full wulf form. Somehow, I knew if I did that, she would totally freak. I didn’t want to hurt her or frighten her more than necessary, but the Human mating rituals--dating, marriage, and the like--mean nothing to a wulf, did not bind us to a mate. Wulves mate for life when they bond, and that was what I needed to do tonight.
I intended our mating to be permanent and binding on both of us. For that to happen, I needed to inject my DNA material into her bloodstream and take hers into mine. There are three ways to do this: kissing, biting and fucking. To be safe and thorough, I wouldn’t abandon a single step of the ritual.
Kissing is an excellent way to exchange saliva and DNA. I had already gathered some of her DNA material from the sweet source of her tasty pussy. There was no need to kiss her, I just wanted to. Kissing her made my head swim and my cock harden. I’d added kissing Melody to my daily ‘to do’ list.
I only needed to bite her once to ingest a small amount of her flesh and leave another sampling of my DNA in her bloodstream. This first bite would serve as a means of marking her, visible and physical proof to other wulves that I had claimed my bitch and woe betide anyone who would think of poaching. I’d make sure the other love bites were enjoyable.
I had yet to fuck Melody. About to rectify this oversight, I gritted my teeth, eager t
o slide into her snug channel and plow through her hot, buttery cunt. I could hardly wait to plumb the depths of her little vagina and shoot my sperm directly into her womb. I longed to deposit my seed--the ultimate DNA material--into that sacred chamber, the most efficient blood circulating site in the female body.
Committed to getting my cock inside her before she awoke, I allowed my body to relax and fall completely into mid-change. Moaning with the pleasure of the change, I keened aloud, consumed by the feelings of freedom and power my change always engenders within me. Fur rippled over my chest, down my arms and legs and across my back. My ears and teeth elongated, claws extending. My thick fur caused me to look much bulkier than I did in smooth skin, more like a monster. I feared she would find this version of me horrific.
In mid-change, my senses intensified. Smell, hearing and sight sharpened, becoming ultra-sensitive until I could hear the rhythmic beating of her heart, the breath soughing through her slightly opened mouth. Her scent burst upon my olfactory glands, her pussy exuding a heady, rut-inspiring musk that caused me to fling my head back and howl a mating challenge to the ceiling.
Lowering my head, I whiffed at the legs, cunt and anus of my mate, following my own familiar scent trail of saliva behind her knees, along her chunky thighs and between the slick folds of her creamy sex. I lingered at her anal cavity, nudging that small hole, my elongated nose pushing insistently against the puckered dimple. The tart, spicy smell wafting from her dark opening had me salivating, drool dripping from my jaws.
Keening and whining with need, I left that intriguing place and moved up, prepared to mount my bitch. Careful of my claws, I grabbed her waist, hauled her limp body up to position my aching sex at the door of her cunt.
I pressed against the tight ring of muscles guarding her opening. By now, my cock had grown so large and hard, the plum-shaped head had difficulty entering the door of her small channel. Wet as she was, slicked up as my cock was, I still found it hard going penetrating her. Gritting my teeth, I persisted until the helmeted head finally punched through the narrow opening of her pussy and my thick length surged in, stretching resisting muscles.
Werewolf Journals 01 - Wild in the City Page 8