by Sable Drake
Rommie, of course, was the star. In the one that she remembered the most clearly upon waking, she had been out in the meadow by the stream, crouched down to cup the cold water into her hand and drink. Some sound made her turn, and he was there, naked and hairy and monstrously erect.
She had fled–it was a dream; it didn't have to make sense–and he'd given chase, through the high grass, warmed and fragrant from the sun. Her stride had lengthened into leaps, until she suddenly became aware that she was no longer Jaylee Dawson, but a deer, a fleet doe bounding toward the safety of the wood. And Rommie, hot on her heels, was now a slavering wolf, black-pelted with feral green eyes.
When he sprang upon her, bringing her down, all at once they had been human again. His mouth had been all over her throat and breasts, not biting but covering her with hard, fierce kisses. In the course of their squirming struggle, her legs had gone around his waist, and when he rolled onto his back, Jaylee rolled with him and impaled herself eagerly on his cock.
Her travel alarm had gone off before her dream-self had, much to her annoyance. She'd wakened to find her hand between her legs. Her other hand made frantic slaps at the clock until she hit the snooze. Then, she kicked off the covers and brought herself to climax, as pale morning light streamed through the window.
An hour later, having breakfasted on an orange and a power bar, she was on her way. Dressed in khaki shorts, a forest-green shirt tied Daisy-Mae style below her breasts, and her hiking boots, she had her long hair in a ponytail and her eyes shaded by the brim of an Australian leather hat. The bug spray was the scent-free kind, to avoid alerting the animals to her presence. She had a water bottle, a compass, a sandwich and some trail mix in a small backpack, and her camera bag over her shoulder.
The woods around Black River teemed with life. She caught blue jays and cardinals, bright flashes of blue and red against the trees. A squirrel, fat and sassy, scolding her from a stump. A doe–reminding her of her dream–stepping daintily through the underbrush. Later, a proud stag with a harem of three does, the lucky buck.
No predators, though. Not so much as a fox, let alone a bobcat or lynx or mountain lion.
She was no Davey Crockett and wouldn't have known how to read animal tracks if her life had depended on it. Still, it was only the first day and she had gotten many pictures that she hoped would be good.
The shade of the woods had protected her from much of the heat of the day, but she was sweaty and ready for a swim. She came to the banks of Black River and saw a large flat rock poking from the water a few yards out.
The water looked too inviting to resist, so Jaylee hung her camera bag and backpack over a limb, cast a quick look around, and undressed. If Rommie was watching from the shadows, she wanted to tantalize him a little. She took her time removing her bra, and massaged the red lines its straps and underwires left on her flesh. Then, after another glance, she slid down her panties and stood naked on the riverbank.
The sun caressed her skin, but when she put a foot into the water, it was cold enough to make her break out in goosebumps and tighten her nipples into hard little buds. She waded deeper in gradual increments, getting used to the temperature as the water level climbed higher.
When it was up to her waist, she slid forward and swam in long strokes against the tug of the current until she was well upstream of the rock. Then she floated on her back and let herself drift downstream. A bird soared over her, and she wondered what she must look like from above. A pale star-shape of a woman against the black water, breasts rising like soft islands, a dark thatch at the juncture of the thighs.
She had joked with Marion about pubic grooming, and what she liked in a man wasn't quite what she liked in herself. Hers was trimmed into a tidy triangle, and she liked to think that the silky texture of it was like mink.
Refreshed, rejuvenated, and horny all over again, she crawled onto the rock and spread herself out to bask on the sun-heated stone.
The sun dipped behind one of the ridges, casting a long shadow over Black River. The western sky had gone rosy-gold, though the rest was still blue and there was more than enough light to see by. Jaylee slipped back into the water and swam to shore. She used her shirt for a towel, thinking that she could stroll back to the cabin in her bra and the only one who might see her would be Rommie.
Maybe he'd come back down with her once night fell and show her the moonlight on the water. She would stay, but she hadn't thought to bring a flashlight and didn't know about finding her way, full moon or no full moon.
She donned her panties and shorts then socks and hiking boots and, lastly. the bra. The damp shirt went into her backpack and she started back through the woods. The deepening twilight shadows, while the sky was still bright above, lent the forest a quality that fell somewhere between mystical and eerie.
The growl brought her up short. It came from a stand of bushes and, as she turned her head in that direction, she saw the glint of animal eyes.
Jaylee didn't move except to edge her hand to her camera bag. She could just make out a hulking shadow concealed by the leafy boughs. It was breathing in low rasps. The eyes, as lambent green as those snap-and-shake glow sticks kids used at Halloween, never wavered as she slowly raised the camera and sighted through it.
The animal emerged, shouldering through the bushes, huge paws silent on the earth. It was a wolf. But when Jaylee thought wolf, she thought brindle-grey and about the size of a Siberian Husky. This wolf was jet-black and stood nearly as tall as a pony. It released a menacing snarl.
Her heart stuttered. She lowered the camera, hoping that the sheer size of the beast had been some trick of the viewfinder, some zoom of the lens. To her dismay, she saw that if anything, the wolf looked bigger when seen with her own eyes.
Rommie hadn't warned her about anything like this.
But Rommie had said that the predators here were more interested in their natural prey. Keeping that in mind, Jaylee tried to bolster her courage. Rommie wouldn't have let her go out alone if he thought that she'd be in any real danger.
She took a sideways step, toward the trail that led back to the cabins.
The wolf moved faster than she could believe. A single bound, and its long, shaggy body sailed past her. Paws skidded, kicking up loose dirt. The wolf slued around, twisting to face her. Blocking the trail.
Jaylee's pulse raced. She took air in quick little sips.
Another growl. Low. Menacing. The jaws opening enough to let her glimpse sharp white teeth.
She retreated a pace, readying her camera bag. The expensive equipment was the last thing in her mind. What she cared about was heft and swing. If she could hit the wolf in the head, she might stun it long enough to escape …
It advanced on her, green eyes wary. She grasped the camera bag by its strap and stood her ground. She could feel the humid gust of its hot breath on her legs.
As she swung with all her might, the wolf attacked. It charged her, ducking as if it had anticipated her move. Its jaws gaped. Saliva flew from its mouth, splattering her arms. Its teeth closed on the strap and with a single wrenching jerk of its neck, it tore the bag from her hands and hurled it away into the shadows.
Jaylee cried out and turned to run. If she could reach the river, she might be able to outswim the wolf... and there would be stones to throw.
She got three strides before the heavy, furry body collided with the backs of her legs and knocked her down. The heels of her hands plowed through dirt and dead leaves. She skinned both knees and the air burst from her lungs, leaving her winded.
Rolling onto her back, she crossed her arms in front of her head to protect her face and neck from the terrible teeth and to jab her thumbs into the uncanny green eyes, if she got the opportunity.
But the wolf did not fall on her in a fury, rending and biting. It edged closer, sniffing at her legs. Sniffed the blood on her abraded knees.
Jaylee kicked. The wolf avoided the blow and, with a savage snarl, nipped her. Not hard, not breaking
the skin, but pinching enough to hurt. She froze, waiting for the agony of its jaws ripping away the meat of her calf.
The agony didn't come. Instead, the wolf licked the blood and dirt from her knee with wet swipes of its tongue. Jaylee didn't dare move. She wasn't sure if she could. The wolf stood between her legs, so that she was unable to bring them together.
The wolf shifted to her other knee. Its tongue was supple, smooth, not rough like that of a cat. It left moist trails that cooled as they dried in the evening breeze. Jaylee shivered. The sensation was a mix of pain and pleasure, a stinging relief, reminding her of the way her mother used to tend to her wounds when she'd taken a fall while roller skating.
Finished with her knees, the wolf's steady green gaze regarded her for a moment. There was something so knowing and familiar in those eyes that, briefly, a crazy thought flitted through her mind.
Rommie's eyes were just like that. The eyes of a wolf.
Of course, what she was thinking was insane, impossible.
She started to sit up and immediately, the wolf growled again, cowing her into motionless submission. Its nose pressed to her leg, sniffing, moving up from her knee and over her thigh. Its tongue made a few more swipes, tickling and slippery. She could see its head in clear detail, the way its ears angled back, the pelt forming a ruff around the neck and down onto the broad chest.
The wolf opened its mouth. Jaylee bit back a frightened noise, anticipating the fangs sinking into her. The jaws closed with fastidious delicacy on the leg of her khaki shorts and clamped down. In a sudden, brutal series of yanks, the wolf worried at the shorts like a terrier with a rag. The waistband snap popped. The zipper skidded down with a metallic zing. Cloth tore.
Seconds later, the shreds of her shorts were tossed aside and she was left in hiking boots, socks, panties, and bra.
She felt the hot puff of its breath on her belly. She still could not bring her knees together. A warm, wet nose poked against her crotch, snuffling. The idea that had occurred to her before came back to her now, and this time it was almost believable.
Again acting with that fastidiousness, the wolf delicately bit the thin elastic strip at the top of her panties. The wispy material was no match for those jaws. She saw the wolf toss its head, and scraps of pale silk drift away like ghosts.
Jaylee reached out, tentatively, and touched the wolf's head. It snorted, and this time its steamy breath washed over her most intimate area. She felt the texture of its fur, at once plush and coarse.
Its nose burrowed into her crotch again, unhindered now even by the thinnest of barriers. Her face burned because she knew that it must be attracted by her musky female scent.
It was strange, it was wrong. Trapped here, flat on her back on the forest floor being threatened by a gigantic wolf, she should have been scared to death. And she was scared… but she was turned on, too. Sick though it was, she liked the helpless feeling of having her clothes violently stripped from her body, of being unable to move for fear of being bitten.
The wolf's mouth opened again. Jaylee flinched, imagining its teeth tearing into sensitive flesh, but the wolf did not bite. The wolf licked. That smooth, supple, warm, slippery-wet tongue delved into her.
She cried out--couldn't help herself--cried out and bucked her hips and splayed her thighs wide to allow the wolf complete access. It lapped and nuzzled. The sounds coming from its throat now were not growls or snarls, but hungry, eager grunts.
"Oh… oh… oh, God!" Jaylee heard herself moan. The wolf's tongue was deep inside her, long and flexible. She caught the wolf by the sides of the head but didn't try to push it away, just held it closer as she ground her hips up into its muzzle.
As she was on the very verge of a frantic orgasm, straining toward it, whimpering breathlessly and clinging to the thick fur of the wolf's head, a shot rang out.
At once, the wolf pulled away from her, leaving strands of its pelt tangled in her fingers. She saw its head snap around, its lips peel back in a hateful grimace, and then it leaped over her. She had a quick glimpse of its underbelly, and of something long and stiff and reddish jutting from the furry sheath between its back legs.
Then the wolf vanished into the woods with a cracking, splintering noise as it trampled bushes and broke off twigs.
Cheated, flustered, ashamed, and alarmed, Jaylee sat up fast and looked around. To think she had been caught like that, seen like that… writhing and moaning beneath a wolf as it went down on her… And, she was furious with whoever it was for interrupting at that crucial moment… five more seconds would have done it… some hunter, some poacher, whoever it was, she wanted to kill him…
You all right?" Rommie asked, emerging from the gathering dusk.
Her thoughts came to a crashing, confusing halt. "Y… you?"
He came toward her, a rifle resting in the crook of his elbow. He was dressed much as he had been yesterday, this time in dark grey sweatpants and a ribbed black tank top that displayed his arms and shoulders to good advantage.
Jaylee blushed more hotly than ever. For a while there, she had been ready to believe that the wolf…
Rommie stopped a few feet from her, one bushy black eyebrow raised as he took in the state of her undress, and her posture. Her legs were still wide apart and bent at the knees, breasts rising and falling with the rapidity of her breath so that they almost burst free of the confines of her bra. Her thighs were slick, shiny. Her pubic hair was wet and matted down.
"Saw a wolf," Rommie said. He set the rifle aside, leaning it against a tree, and hunkered down near her. "Bite you?"
"No," she managed to say.
"Licked you, though."
Her blush was now so intense she feared she'd ignite. "Rommie… I…"
"The thing about a wolf," he said, looking at her with grave seriousness, "is the saliva. Most people don't know it, but a wolf's saliva can be like snake venom. Can be toxic."
"What?" She stared at him.
"So, it's best to treat it like a snake bite, you see."
"I… I don't know what you mean."
"Got to suck the venom out." His tone was flat and sober, but his eyes gleamed with lust and mischief. "You go on and lie down. I'll take care of it."
Another flush, this one having little to do with embarrassment, swept over her. She stayed put, stammering, until Rommie gently pushed on her shoulders and eased her back down onto the ground.
She didn't understand what was happening. Was, actually, not a hundred percent certain she was even awake. Maybe she'd gone for her swim, crawled out onto the sun-warmed rock, and fallen asleep. That was easier to believe than this.
But, as Rommie pushed her down and lowered himself between her legs, she decided that she didn't care. Dream or reality, she was going to enjoy it. Her body still ached for that final bit of attention necessary to achieve bliss. She opened herself to Rommie, sinking her fingers into his thick crop of hair just as she had done with the wolf's pelt.
He parted her with his thumbs and took a slow, probing taste. Jaylee nearly screamed with delight. She was on the edge, and the sly bastard knew it. He teased, he tormented. His tongue proved almost as adept as the wolf's had been, and soon she was ready to explode.
"Do it, do it, oh, God, yes, make me come," she babbled. "Please… I'm so close… Oh! Oh, yes!"
As her body shuddered, Rommie slid an expert forefinger into her and pressed her G-spot, and Jaylee went purely supernova with pleasure. She clamped her thighs around Rommie's head, not caring if she suffocated him. Her lower legs hooked over his shoulders, and her heels drummed his back.
The world went spinny and sparkly for a few seconds, as Jaylee fought to recover her breath and her wits. By the time she could see clearly again, Rommie was kneeling over her. He'd taken off his tank top, but in the dim light she could barely tell because his chest was buried in dense, curling hair. She was fairly certain he had also removed his sweats, though the position of their bodies didn't let her see the rest of him.
"There's only one way to make sure the venom's all flushed out," he said, those green eyes seeming to blaze at her like fiery emeralds.
"Forget about that and just fuck me," she said.
He grinned, white teeth flashing in the twilight. "You sure that's what you want?"
"Yes!" She grabbed him and hauled him down atop her. As she'd thought, he was naked, and his thick body hair was scratchy-tickling-wonderful against her skin.
Rommie paused long enough to break the front hook of her bra, and greedily stuffed as much of one breast as he could into the warm suction of his mouth. The other did not lack for attention; he kneaded it with his large, rough hand.
Jaylee, almost desperate to have his cock fill her up, squirmed around underneath him. She could feel it, stiff and smooth, rubbing along her thigh.
"You'll think I'm crazy," she panted in his ear. "You really will, but… when the wolf was… licking me like that… I thought it was you. That you were… you know… some kind of werewolf."
He raised his head, and his grin was more ferocious than ever. "But I am."
"What?"
Before her very eyes, he changed.
The dark shadow of his stubble spread and grew, even as the lower half of his face pushed out into a toothy muzzle and his brow sloped back. His ears elongated to furry points. She could hear bones crackling as they realigned, could feel muscles bulging and shifting beneath hairy skin that was rapidly becoming covered with a thick pelt.
The eyes, though… the eyes were the same.
He reared up, a wolf-beast in humanoid form, and howled at the rising white disk of the moon. Its silver beams painted his black coat with a brilliant sheen. His erection, huge and slick, glistened in the moonlight.
Jaylee lay there, too stunned to react, as the thing that had been Rommie grabbed her by the arms and lifted her high into the air. He handled her as if she weighed next to nothing. His arms, shoulders, chest, and thighs all swelled with slabs of muscle. The heat and wild smell of him were overpowering.