Safing Out

                He told her she was beautiful and she swallowed hard against the palm of his hand.  He was lying.  She knew that he was lying.

                “It’s true,” he said.

                Tears clung to her eyelashes.  She kept her eyes shut tight so they couldn’t escape.  It wasn’t supposed to be like this, so painful and raw on the inside.  He was supposed to be her escape.  Panic clawed at her chest.  This isn’t what she signed up for, this isn’t what she wanted.

                “I have to go,” she said.

                “You aren’t going anywhere,” he replied.

                He lifted his hand and squeezed the leather restraint around her right wrist to remind her why.  She flinched. 

                “Did I hurt you?”

                She shook her head.  Only on the inside, she thought.  She prayed that he wouldn’t use words like that again.  She didn’t come to him for lies.

                “Talk to me,” he said.  “If you truly want to leave, you know what to say.”

                She knew her safe word.  He’d made her choose one and tell him what it was while they were emailing.  But this, this was different. 

                “Open your eyes.  You can’t hide from me.  You aren’t sitting behind your monitor anymore.”

                She looked at him.  He was older than her by maybe ten years, a man who had lived not the easiest of lives.  His eyes were hard, but concerned.  It was the concern that she didn’t want.  She’d been honest with him, told him that this wouldn’t be easy for her, but she’d wanted to try.  She didn’t know that the hardest part would be his scrutiny.  Suddenly, he grabbed her ankles and tugged her down on the bed, stretching her arms tighter above her head.  The imbalance struck her then, her nudity and his fully clothed body.  Her scars and stretch marks; her imperfections on display.  At least his were hidden.

                He reached up and caressed the side of her breast with his hand before pinching her nipple.  She cried out from the sharp pain.  This.  This is what she wanted.  He did the same with the other before reaching over to the side table and retrieving a pair of nipple clamps linked by a chain.  Her eyes widened.

                “This is all new for you.  We’ll take it slow.  This is just our first time.  I just want you to have a little taste.”

                She nodded.

                “The most important part is that you communicate to me.  Do as I say, yes, but tell me if you don’t like something.  I want you to feel safe.”

                She nodded again.

                A sharp slap cracked across her thigh.

                “Use your words.”

                “Yes, sir.”

                He clipped the first clamp onto her hard nipple and she whimpered.  He did the same to the second.  Her breasts were full and fell to the sides, pulling against the chain. The ache went straight to her core and she pulled against the restraints as though she were testing them.  He laughed softly and tugged on the chain.

                “Oh, no.  We’re just starting.”

                He ran his fingers down her body and pushed her thighs apart.  All she could think was how fleshy they were, how soft her stomach was.  How she couldn’t be what he wanted.  Why was he here?

                Another slap on her thigh, this one harder.

                “You’re in your head again.  Let’s get you out of it.”

                He bent her knees and pushed her legs high and wide.

                “Don’t move.”

                From the table, he pulled a vibrator and a bottle of lube. She closed her eyes as the lid snicked open. His fingers parted her and the cold liquid dribbled over her hot flesh.  She heard the telling buzz as the toy came to life.  She kept her eyes closed, flinching as he softly moved the vibrator over her outer lips.  She gasped, hips lifting of their own accord.

                “Keep your legs spread for me.”

                She nodded.  “Yes… yes, sir…” she stammered, finding the words a little more difficult to form.

                “Open your eyes.  Stay here with me.”

                He tugged on the chain, sensation shooting through her nipples as her eyes flew open.  He was over her, still fully dressed in slacks and a button-down shirt.  His cotton sleeve rubbed against her inner thigh as he teased her, getting closer to her more private flesh.  She panted, short heavy breaths betraying her arousal as he slipped the vibrator between her lips, skimming over her swollen clit.  She cried out, her hips shooting off the bed, feet firmly planted on the mattress.

                “No, no, keep your feet up and your thighs open.”

                She moaned, but did as he told her. her moved the vibrator back and forth over her clit, then dropped it lower, sliding it deep inside.  He smiled as she jerked her wrists against the restraints again, reaching up and tugging on the chain.

                “Oh, God…” she moaned.

                “Sometimes,” he said,” I won’t let you speak.  I’ll make you stay completely quiet.  I’ll find ways to hurt you more, because that’s what I like to do.  But today, today I just want to get to know you.”

                The vibrator moved back over her clit, faster.  She watched him switch the power higher, the intensity of the vibration driving her wild.  She moaned and writhed beneath him, coming apart, not understanding exactly why she felt so safe.  Why this worked for her.

                He tugged on the clips again and she cried out.

                “So close… I’m so close…”

                He pulled them off and the pain made her scream, just as he shoved two fingers inside her.

                “Now,” he said. “Come now.”

                He couldn’t have stopped her.  The vibrator hard against her clit.  His fingers fucking her.  The ache in her breasts.  The leather tight around her wrists.  And him.  Just him.  Her orgasm tore through her, unleashing something primal and untouched.  The sounds she made were raw, unlike anything she’d ever heard.  Her tears couldn’t be held back this time. 

                She heard the toy drop as he undid the restraints and soothed the skin at her wrists.  She didn’t hide as she wept, something unlocking inside of her, finding a freedom she’d never expected.  He pulled her against him, soothing her and letting her cry.

                “You’re beautiful,” he said.

                She closed her eyes with a sigh, hearing no lies in his voice.

                “Thank you,” she replied, knowing their first time together wouldn’t be the last.

Wolf Moon

                She leaned on the door jam, waiting, the dark night spilling out behind her. She could hear him inside.  Would he answer?  I mean, she knew the rules.  She was just tired of obeying them.  His sigh was audible before he even opened the door revealing him in only his old worn jeans, already prepared with a stern look.

                “You shouldn’t be here,” he said.

                ‘I want to be here,” she replied.

                When he said nothing else, she smiled.

                “My, my, what big eyes you have.”

                She caught the flicker of a smile at the corner of his mouth.

                “I’m not playing this game with you, Red.”

                She pouted and his resolve broke a little further.

                “But I brought you something.”

                He smiled at the redheaded girl determined to break through every barrier he had.

                “Is it a basket of treats?”

                She laughed and placed her hand on his bare chest, pushing him back inside.

                “No, silly.  Your treat is my basket.”

                He groaned.

                “I can’t, Red.  You really should go.  It’s too close.  What if I lose control?”

                She smiled, closing the door behind her.

                “We’ll cross that bridge when we come to it.  Meanwhile…”

                She opened her cloak and slipped it to the floor, leaving her in nothing but a pair of thigh high leather boots.

                “So naughty, Red.” He leaned in and nipped at her lower lip as his fingertips traced the curve of her hip.  “So fucking naughty.”

                She held on to the satchel she always carried as he led her down the cabin’s short hall to his bedroom.  She could feel his nerves, his fear.  But she also knew that she had him and that’s all she wanted.  The cool air settled on her skin as he pushed her through the door, his eyes pinned to her full ass.

                “I like the boots,” he said.

                She dropped her bag and turned, reaching for him.

                “No, you know the rules.  Drop your hands.”

                She did, lowering her arms to her side.

                “So alpha,” she laughed and he narrowed his eyes.

                He could devour her.  She was a short little thing, but her curves were ridiculous.  Round hips, full heavy breasts tipped with tight pink nipples… and the strip of silky red hair covering her pussy drove him crazy.  The heels on her boots gave her a couple of extra inches, but she still didn’t reach his shoulder.  He knew he wouldn’t make it through this.  She shouldn’t have tracked him down out here.  This was where he came to be safe, to make sure he didn’t hurt anyone.  He never should have told her about this place.  But here they were.

                “Unbutton my jeans,” he said.

                She stepped forward, the backs of her fingers grazing his abdomen as she undid the top button.  He sucked in a breath as she worked her way down until she brushed the base of his cock.  She opened his pants and slid them over his hips to the floor, watching as he kicked them aside.  She loved that he went commando.  It reminded her that he was always a little wild.

                “On your knees.  You know what to do.”

                She did.  And she loved doing it.  She lowered herself to her knees, though her boots made it a little tricky.  She lifted her eyes to his as she rubbed her cheek against him.  She heard him grown as she nuzzled him. She always did that first, before anything else and he fucking loved it.  She smiled then, wrapping her hand around the base of his cock and running her tongue along the length of him.  She loved the way he tasted.  The way he smelled. She did it again, before opening wider and wrapping her lips around the head and sucking him in.  Her hand worked him slowly as she found a rhythm between her fist and her mouth, stroking, licking, sucking as his hands nestled in her hair, pulling her deeper.  She moaned and he felt it in his balls, jolting his hips forward.  He wasn’t going to last, but he didn’t want it like this.  He felt the stirring beneath his skin that he was trying to fight.  He pulled her off, undone when she looked up at him, swollen lips wet with saliva, eyes glazed with need.

                “Stand up and lose the boots.”

                His voice was deeper, hoarse, gravelly.  She was going to undo him.

                He waited as she maneuvered out of the leather and tossed it aside, then moved to the bed and reached for her, pulling her down on top of him.  She straddled his broad hips, positioning herself over his thick cock.  He let his fingers glide over her slick pussy first, feeling her swollen clit and her wet entrance.  She whimpered.

                “Please…”

                “I love it when you ask so nicely.”

                With one hand at her hips he pulled her down as he thrust up inside of her.  She cried out, unable to stop herself as he stretched her, filled her and fuck, she’d never felt anything like him and she knew it every time.  She leaned forward, her nipples brushing his chest as she braced herself over him, riding him hard, hips moving, gyrating in perfect time to his thrusts.  His grunts grew thicker.  Heavier.  Beneath her hands she felt him moving, changing.  For a moment, panic filled his eyes.

                “I’m losing it,” he said.

                “It’s alright.  We’re safe.  Let it go.”

                Muscles shifted and changed beneath her.  Skin gave way to rippling fur.  And his face, his perfect face transformed to something between man and wolf.  His cock thickened.  Lengthened.  She cried out as his hands, tipped in claws, dug into her hips.  She bit her lip as she looked into his golden eyes.  He kept fucking her.  She knew, she’d known, but this…

                “Don’t stop.  Fuck, please don’t stop!”

                He growled at her cries, fucking her fiercely, filling her completely.  He watched as she dropped one hand between them and began rubbing her clit, moaning wildly as she came apart.  He held her down on him as she writhed through her orgasm, her pussy gripping him like a fist until he came inside her.

                “Oh God,” she moaned.

                She leaned forward, allowing herself to feel him beneath her, resting on his broad chest and feeling his arms come around her.  His chin came to rest on her head and she wondered what he was thinking, what it meant for him to be like this with her.  She knew what it meant for her.  It wasn’t what she’d thought.

                She woke in the morning and smiled at the warm skin beneath her cheek.

                “You’re back,” she said.

                “You’re still here,” he replied.

                “I am.”

                “You didn’t kill me,” he said, quietly.

                She looked up, wondering how much he knew.

                “I know who you are.  I know you’re a hunter.  I took my chances.”

                She shook her head.

                “I couldn’t.  I can’t.  You’re you.”

                She dropped her head back down on his chest, wondering if this was the end of the line for her.

                “I can’t,” he said, reading her thoughts. “You’re you.”

                He rolled her warm body beneath him and brushed his lips across hers.

                “I’ll take more of this instead, Red.”

                He nestled himself between her thighs as she hummed with pleasure, the truth finally setting them both free.

                

Like Fireflies

“Be creative,” he said.  She was pouting when he’d left.  She certainly wasn’t pouting when he got home.  She desperately wanted a Christmas tree.  He told her there wasn’t room for one in their dinky little apartment.  “Be creative.”

A smile curled his lips the way those white twinkling lights curled around her perfect, pale ass, twined around her waist and trailed down her thigh.  She turned her head when she heard him enter the room, but not enough that he could see her beautiful face.  It was hidden behind waves of chocolate brown hair, but he could hear her smile when she spoke.  “Merry Christmas.

His eyes dropped lower. He could see her perfectly pink pussy between her spread thighs.  He stepped to the edge of the bed, already hard, and unbuckled his pants.  He watched her hand move as she leaned forward, heard her gasp as her fingers slid over her swollen clit.

“Our tree looks bare,” he said.

“Decorate it,” she replied.

His hand stroked slowly over his cock, tightening as he slid over the head.  He groaned, remembering how she’d felt this morning before he’d left for work, before their silly argument when she’d rode him until he came so hard he’d forgotten where he was. He watched her hips roll, the lights flickering against her ivory skin like fireflies, her hair slipping over her shoulder as she whispered his name.  Finally, her perfect face. His hand moved faster, harder tighter as he chased her orgasm.  Her head fell back as she came and he followed, streams of pearly white cum decorating her ass like tinsel.

Peeping Tina

She watched them the way she always did, with one hand clutching her coffee cup and the other tucked inside her panties.  Two masculine mouths collided in a way that was far too complex for a simple goodbye.  Mike's thumb stroked Brent's stubbled jaw.  Brent's body clenched in response, his briefcase slipping from his hand to the pavement.  A tiny moan escaped her lips and she wondered of the kisses they shared in private, the ones she couldn't witness from her kitchen window.

Brent pulled himself reluctantly from Mike's embrace as her coffee splashed across the counter, her thighs and belly clenching in release.  Brent slid behind the wheel of his car as Mike turned her way, tossing her an amused wink.  She smiled and sighed, ready to face the day.

The Initiation

The chill in the air was tamed by the fire.  Oh, who was she kidding?  It was also tamed by Jessica, Ellie and Tabitha.  She wasn't expecting that.  She wasn't sure what she expected, but it certainly wasn't that.  She knew who they worshipped, who they obeyed.  She knew they even dabbled in magick.  But when they invited her in, when they used the word "initiation," she had laughed.  Yet, the very next full moon there she was.

"Come on, Marcy.  You know you want to."

Tabitha called to her and she shook her head.  She watched her three friends tossing their  clothes in a careless heap.  She knew there was no one for miles.  Still, is this what she wanted?  Tabitha pulled a cheap bottle of wine from her Bohemian handbag.

"Just in case we need a little inspiration..."

She laughed and loosened the screw top, taking a swig off the bottle before splashing a little on the fire.  Marcy's eyes opened wide as the flames flared and danced.

"Clothes, Marcy."

She timidly shed her clothes and added them to the pile encouraged by cat calls and gentle peer pressure.  She wanted to be one of them.  She shared their faith and used their words.  She already prayed to the full moon, usually just clothed   She stood aside and watched them. Tabitha handed her the bottle as she danced around th fire.  Jessica and Ellie followed their fearless leader, laughing and raising their hands to the sky.  Marcy couldn't bring herself to join, not on her own.  Not until Ellie took her hand and pulled her along.  Beautiful Ellie.  Marcy swallowed hard, her eyes caressing every lean slope and plane of her body.  Her pert breasts. Her perfectly landscaped mound.  She shouldn't be looking at her this way.  It was the one thing they didn't know.

She took a swig from the bottle, her hand relaxing in Ellie's grasp.  She imagined that hand sweeping across her belly.  Glancing over her hip.  She took another sip, and then another.  The sun slipped behind the horizon before their revelry calmed.  Tabitha and Jessica wandered from the fire with a blanket and hushed giggles.  Marcy blushed as she saw them clasp hands before they slipped from her view.

"They always do that."  Ellie spoke with a wistful smile.  "Usually they leave me here alone.  Tonight I don't have to be alone."

They settled down on a blanket by the fire.  Marcy's heat, though, came from within.  She looked down and saw her hand still in Ellie's.  She felt her face flush.  Ellie reached over and tucked a long strand of blonde hair behind her ear.

"Don't me scared, Marcy.  It's just me.  It's just prayer.  This is how we pray."

Before she could respond Ellie's sweet mouth was on her.  Marcy gasped.  Ellie's tongue slipped between her open lips.  Marcy's head spun.  She didn't know what to do.  She'd imagined this a thousand times, but never thought it would happen.  Gently, Ellie pushed Marcy onto her back.

"Surrender."
It was the sweetest word.  Marcy could only nod as a soft warm mouth enveloped her nipple.  Light fingertips drifted over her belly.  In the distance she heard sounds of pleasure and praise.  She didn't know.  She never imagined.  A soft hand nudged her thighs apart.  Fingertips drifted to her most sacred place.  Sacred.  That was the word.

She gasped Ellie's name by the firelight.  Never had she offered up such a prayer.  She came with a silent shudder.

"Blessed be."

---

Oddly inspired by this one.  I hope y'all don't mind the slightly alternative route.  I was late, Ad, but only a day.  I'm improving!

Watching

I watched.  How could I not?  But we usually  watched together.  I chuckled to myself.  I suppose in a way we still were.

I should be cold, inside and out.  instead there was nothing but heat.  My face was flushed.  My chest hot.  I watched.  I felt her skin beneath my fingertips.  I tasted her in my mouth.  I knew everything he knew.  Each sight, sound, scent and taste had been tattooed on my body.  She was my flesh.  She was my body.

Girls' night out, she said.  Happy hour.  I raised an eyebrow.  Yes, she definitely looked happy.  She knew I'd look into his apartment.  She knew we could see him from the balcony.  We'd stood out here together countless times.  Sometimes it turned us on until we scurried inside to make our own stories.  Sometimes we laughed and threatened to hold up scorecards.  She always said he had trouble sticking the dismount.

She grinned.  She smiled and it was for me.  I watched the way her back arched as he buried his face between her legs.  My skin grew hotter.  I wondered how he felt.  Was he hard?  He had to be.  This was usually just the warm up.  How would it feel to be hard?  To know he'd be inside her?  How would it feel to sink his cock into that wet, tight sheath?  I'd always wondered.  I'd wanted that pussy to grip something other than my fingers.  Other than my fist.

My hand wandered over my breast and down, slipping beneath my top.  Goosebumps raised on my flesh and I didn't know if it was the night air or my own touch.  My fingertips moved across my soft belly and tucked into the waistband of my jeans.  I watched her cum knowing exactly how she sounded.  How she tasted.  He moved to his knees, unbuttoning his jeans.  My fingers moved lower, slipping inside my damp panties.  I watched him roll on a condom.  I watched her face, the look of need and desire.  Why?  Why was she doing this?

My fingertip moved over my clit and a jolt of need fired through me.  He moved between her legs.  I watched him slowly push forward.  I swear I heard her moan.  I could see her pleasure.  I could feel it.  My fingers moved faster, deeper.  I watched his muscles move with every thrust.  Watched him push inside her.  Watched her back arch.  Watched hi take her breast in his mouth. She loved it when I did that, take her nipple in my teeth while I fucked her.  My fingers moved quick, hard and the warmth pooled below my belly.

She looked right at me.  She came.  So did I.

Her hand rested on his back.  I struggled for breath.  Right after she came she was the most beautiful girl in the world.  He got up and left the room and I saw her smile as she reached for her phone.  Her smile was wide and bright.

My text notifier went off and I was pulled out of my trance.  I was hesitant, looking for some lie or some crazy excuse.  Instead, I laughed as I read her words.

"Did he stick the dismount this time?"

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

So, this is a Friday post and it's one week and two days late.  I'd worry that my dear friend Advizor54 would be unhappy with me, but I think he'd just be pleased that I wrote... even with the bizarre ending.  LOL.

The Christmas Gift

My jaw dropped as the wrapping paper fell to the ground.  It was framed in a simple cherry wood frame.  Funny, it went perfect with her messy auburn hair.  I felt the blush rise to my cheeks just as the heat rushed between my legs.  I looked up at her, shock still registering on my face.

"How... when..."

She slapped my knee with a laugh.

"You remember when.  I set the camera on the dresser on automatic just for shits and giggles.  But then I saw you there on your back, legs perfectly spread, perky nipples waiting for my tongue..."

"How did you develop it?"

"Home print job, goofball."

I watched the insecurity flicker across her face.  A serious edge crept in.

"Do you... do you like it?  We don't have much money this year.  I wanted to give you something special, and..."

I pressed my finger to her lips.  I remembered.

I remembered laughing as she set up the camera, teasing her with my lewd pose.  I remembered her crawling up my body and my longing as I looked into her grey eyes.  Her lips wrapped around one nipple and I groaned, her tongue teasing the taut bud.  I heard the whir of the shutter snapping away, but I didn't care.  I wrapped my legs around her waist and my hands around her thighs.  I've never wanted her so much.  She was perfection.  She lowered her pelvis to mine and ground against me.  Both of us filled the silence with our moans, lost in the delicious pressure.  She fucked me and I remembered only for a moment what it used to feel like to be full but it didn't matter anymore.  He was gone and she was here.  The way she would grind.  The tiny thrusts of her hips.  Her whimper.  Her hand sliding between us, two fingers sliding into my greedy pussy.  I cried out and forgot everything but her.  The way she fucked me.  The way she came above me.  The way I loved her.

I smiled then, my fingers still resting on her lips.  I dropped them, trailing her collarbone.  She sighed and closed her eyes.

"It's perfect, just like you."

I leaned in, pressing my lips to her full mouth.  She tasted like peppermint and memories.  I reached down and grabbed the hem of her top, whisking it up over her head.  I palmed her full breasts and looked back at the picture.

"Merry Christmas, baby.  This time I'll be on top."

Her smile against my mouth, that was the best Christmas gift of all.

Waiting

She snaps the shot and then quickly attaches the word "waiting" to the text.  It feels like she's been waiting forever.  It took them a month to find one night when they could be together.  Being a single mom doesn't afford her many opportunities for a romantic getaway.  Neither does his being married.  Vicky is quick to justify that they've already discussed divorce and she is not the reason, thankfully.  She couldn't deal with the guilt.  But now, like this, she can't stay away.  He's just wicked enough to make her feel more like a woman and less like Mom.  She throws her phone on the bed and looks at the clock.  Another hour.

Still wet hair falls in waves around her shoulders.  She examines herself in the mirror. Some spots too lean, some spots too soft.  She smiles, knowing he'd say she was perfect.  Him... he is perfect.  Broad shoulders.  Trim waist.  A little gray at the temples and dimples to boot.  And that dick!  He works miracles with that thing.  Heat rushes over her as she remembers their last time.  His lunchbreak.  Her minivan.  Perfection.

Her hand dips down and brushes her thigh as she thinks about him.  The heat spreads.  She thinks of that soft growl in her ear.  The way he pulls her hair.  His hard cock nestled against her ass.  The sweet burn when he begins to push himself inside her.  She makes her way to the bed and the towel drops to the floor.  Another glance at the clock before a wicked grin flashes across her face.  A myriad of images flutter through her mind.  Their first kiss.  The first time she said no.  The first time she said yes.  The way his mouth sets her on fire.

Her hands brush across her breasts, her nipples hardening to tight peaks.  A hand strays down her belly, seeking her own wet warmth.  She sits on the edge of the bed where she can still see the mirror.  She likes the way she looks when she thinks of him, so wild and free.  And this... this is what he sees when she is beneath him.  Her fingers swirl around her swollen clit.  She gasps, unable to tear her eyes from her reflection.  Cheeks flushed.  Lips parted.  Fingers moving faster, harder, as she imagines they're his.  His are like lightning.  like magic.

The build is fast, desire peaking, though nothing she can do is enough.  Pinch her nipples.  Slide her fingers deep inside her hungry sex.  Think more of his sweat dripping over her as he thrusts deep and hard.  She whimpers and get phone rings.  A smile flickers as she sees his face on the screen.  One hand continues to play as she picks up the phone, gasping his name.

"Started without me I hear."

Sure replies with a frustrated moan.  "But I can't... I need you."

She hears the amusement in his voice.

"You started.  You'll finish right now with me on the phone.  And you'll damn sure be ready for more when I get there.  Now move your fingers in a tight circle over your clit.  You know how good that feels, don't you?"

She moans.

"Answer me."

"Yes... yes, it feels so.... oh, God, yes... yes...oh, fuck..."

He laughs as she cums, loving that all she needed was him.  She tries to talk, but nothing comes out.

"That's my girl.  Now open this door.  It's time for round two."

She lays the phone down with a smile and goes to the door, relieved that, at least for tonight, her wait is over.

Welcome Home

She was waiting.  She'd been waiting.  It'd been months since he'd touched her, since she felt his lips on her skin.  Sure, he kissed her goodnight or goodbye.  He greeted her with a brusque brush of his lips when he got home from work.  But had he really kissed her?  Not in what felt like ages.  She'd dropped hints.  She told him she missed him, which he dismissed as silliness since he saw her everyday.  But she missed him.  The fire of his touch.  The rough scrape of his calloused hands.  Being stretched tight around him as he filled her body and soul.

She heard the car door.  His steady gait on the walkway.  His key in the lock.  He came in and she saw the shadows from a long day play in his eyes.  She watched him toss his keys and wallet in the bowl on the table and set his satchel on the floor.  Her eyes softened, knowing that next he'd loosen his tie and unbutton his top button.  He'd look in the kitchen for her then cross to the stairs.  He'd sigh as he climbed them, his day escaping his lungs in a slow exhale.  She knew he'd do it all as she knew him.  But today was different.  Her stomach flutters and danced with insecurity.  Today she was waiting.  Today she hoped he'd understand.

He was nearly to the top of the stairs when he saw her.  His eyes registered his shock, then lit with pleasure.  He loosened his tie, slid it from his collar and dropped it on the top step.  He crossed to her with words on his lips.

"You look lovely," he said.

He reached for her, a warm smile touching his lips.  She sighed her relief.

He unbuttoned his shirt and slipped it to the floor.  Shoes.  Socks.  Belt.  Pants.  boxers.  She watched in amusement, certain he would have led her to the bedroom instead of kneeling on the landing, his erection straining to reach for her.  He leaned forward, brushing his lips over her forehead before fitting them to her mouth.  His kiss.  His taste, uniquely him on her tongue.  She moaned into him as they found each other both foreign and familiar.  His lips left hers and found the shell of her ear.

"I've missed you, too," he whispered.

She smiled against his shoulder.

He understood.

The Visit

I was surrounded by their past, love letters strewn around me in a whirlwind.  It was a condition of my mother's will.  I had to spend a night in their lighthouse.  I had to read his letters.  I had to learn.  I didn't need the inheritance; I was perfectly fine without the money.  I was also fine without a lighthouse that I'd never known existed.  But there I was, caught up in a torrid romance that wasn't mine, mourning a woman I barely knew.

More light than I'd expected streaked through the windows, though now it was tinged with dusk.  I'd been reading for hours.  She was the good girl from a prominent family.  He was the boy from the wrong side of the tracks, her Anthony.  He wrote with such passion.  It was almost a comfort to know someone loved her once, before she married my bastard of a father.  I blushed when he wrote of her flawless skin.  The lure of her ruby mouth.  The innocence of her untouched flesh.  It wasn't untouched by him.  She came to him here at the lighthouse.  He was it's keeper.  Though I blushed as I read of his memories of their first night as lovers, it stirred me in a way I couldn't deny.  I had never been viewed with such desire or touched with such passion.  I desperately longed to be.

The sun had long since set.  I'd fixed a modest meal in the tiny, utilitarian kitchen and settled in with my pile of letters.  This one.  This last one brought color to my cheeks.  I had to forget that it was my mother he kissed.  Held.  Fucked.  It was just a woman he compared to white silk, that brought him more passion than he could contain.  My mind drifted and I wondered what it would be like, what his hands would feel like on my skin.  His mouth.  His dick.  His body planked over mine as he filled me.  The letters drifted from my hands.  My hands drifted over my body.

I felt him here in his long ago home, his presence fresh like pine needles beneath my feet.  I felt his big hands cradle mine as they slid over my stomach and dipped beneath my silky blue pajamas.  With my eyes closed I felt his lips press to mine, his tounge sweeping between them like a memory.  I closed my eyes tighter, shutting out the wrongness.  I let our hands wander over my breasts, teasing my nipples to stiff peaks, bringing a moan from my lips only to be captured by his.  Trembling fingertips trailed over my smooth flesh, doing into my own moisture.  I heard him.  I heard him moan.  I felt his breath against my shoulder.  His weightless touch.  I opened my eyes to his shadow, to my mother's memory.  My breath caught, but he stole it.  My fingers were no longer mine.  My hips bucked when he touched me.  Feather light, imaginary strokes made me shudder.  Whispers I couldn't understand left me straining to hear him in the darkness.  I want bare enough.  Blue fabric spilled to the floor as my naked body called him, thighs spread to the chilled air.  I wanted him, his phantom touch.  His passion.  My fingers worked, two sliding inside me as I bucked and screamed his name.  Lips brushed my cheek.  The air grew warmer.  I was left gasping, alone.

The morning brought the sounds of waves crashing.  I lay naked beneath a sheet, my pajamas in a heap on the floor amongst my mother's sacred past.  Nothing had changed.  Everything had changed.   I knew her now.

I smiled and melted into my new home.

There Were Two

She slipped from our makeshift bed the moment the door closed behind him.  I licked my lips, still savoring her exquisite taste, but she was already miles away from me, watching him stroll down the path to his car.   He had what he wanted. He'd had me.  He had Michelle.  He had everything he'd wanted.  But she... she wanted him.  I only wanted her.

It had been my idea.  We'd been together for years.  Happily, I might add.  After a couple drinks we fell into our comfortable haze of one another's skin.  She looked away.  I'd noticed it lately, the faraway gaze.  I only wanted her.  She wanted something else.  

I'd heard his name a few times.  A casual work lunch here.  A happy hour drink there.  Finally, dinner at our place.  Drinks.  I watched the subtle smiles, the flirtation.  I'd always known she was bisexual, but I guess I'd assumed we were enough.  Finally, she told me we weren't.  I pulled her close, her perfect curves molding to my more angular body, and asked her if she wanted him.  She closed her eyes and said she did.

Another dinner.  More drinks.  Boundaries were set and I thought we'd be safe.  Neutral location.  Evenly divided attention.  And, God the moment I watched him sink his cock in her open mouth I thought I'd cum.  I was so jealous, but it was so hot.  I've watched her suck me off a dozen times, but I could never feel it.  With me she sucked silicone.  He was flesh and blood.  I listened to her moan around him.  I watched his jaw go slack as he thrust his hips forward, forcing her to take him deeper.  His hands nested in her hair.  His eyes rolled back.  My heart seized in my chest.  I tried.  I reached out and touched her face, traced her cheek.  She wasn't there.

I watched.  I watched their bodies.  Watched her give him what she hadn't given me.  He watched us the way he wanted to, but she came for him.  Beneath my fingers, beneath my tongue, but for him.  I was hollow.

She slipped from our makeshift bed the moment the door closed behind him.  I licked my lips, still savoring her exquisite taste, but she was already miles away from me, watching him stroll down the path to his car.  I suggested it.  I wanted her happy.  I wanted her whole, the way she made me.  I watched her watch him leave.

I'd never be whole again.

___________________________________________________

So this is incredibly late, like by a week.  I hope that my lovely writing friend doesn't kick me to the curb.  I can't wait to read his when he has the chance.  Thanks for being with me on the sexy sad thing.  This one actually touched a little close to home.

First Kiss

The air felt different.  The dust danced in the air.  The world itself had tilted at a different angle.  Joan cried herself to sleep in her best friend's arms and  when she woke everything changed.  

They spent the day as they intended, painting side by side in Kristen's studio.  Joan wasn't looking at the juxtaposition of light and shadow.  She was looking at the full slope of her bottom lip.  The swell of her breast.  Her sultry gaze.  A hundred things she hadn't noticed before.  She shook her head.  It wasn't like anything had happened the night before.  There was no kiss.  There was no touch, no guilty confession.  All there was was vulnerability and connection.  It was enough.  Today the world was different.

Shadows deepened as their natural light be3gan to fade.  They were winding down.  Joan chuckled as Kristen scratched her cheek and spread yet another streak of acrylic across her face.  Kristen smiled at the rare laughter and rubbed her nose.  Joan looked at her own hands, finding them covered with more paint than her canvas.  She suddenly wondered what it would be like to see her handprint on Kristen's stomach.  A blush rose to her face.  Kristen put down her brush and walked across the wooden floor, nearing her nervous friend.

"It's OK," she said.  "It's different for me too."

With a self-assured fingertip, Kristen brushed Joan's golden hair from her face.  Each breathed the other's breath and the two felt everything change again. Align. One second.  Two seconds.  Three seconds stretched between their parted lips.

It wasn't a jolt of electricity.  It wasn't a shock.  Kristen's lips brushed over hers with the delicacy of a feather.  It was a flow, a rush, a warmth over her mouth.  It was clarity.  It was the answer to questions she'd never dared ask aloud.

A hand brushed a smooth cheek.  Arms entangled.  A tongue flickered along the swell of a lip.  It sought out it's partner.  Paint smudged on pale skin and Joan wondered of handprints again, .  A smile tugged at the corners of Kristen's mouth.

"I feel it," she said.  "All of it."

And everything changed for the better.

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

Thank you, Advizor, for the encouragement this week. I truly needed it.  

Echo

I remember

when everything I bared to you

was precious:

          my want, 

          my pussy; 

          my soul

You were the salvation in my darkness,

the one who finally gave...

But now take is all you have

and I have nothing left to give

but a pair of red heels

and a broken string of

tomorrows.

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

I really loved this picture and wanted to write something sexy and hot.  I'm sorry to say that when I began writing, this is what I found instead.

Just Once

She waited in the hallway, her old battered raincoat skirting the tops of her knees.  She checked her watch.  If this didn't take long, she might be able to fit in a second "date" tonight.  She rapped on the door again.  It opened before the third knock.  Water dripped on his open collar.

"Sorry," he said with a grin. "I didn't expect you to be so prompt.  I was in the shower."

She brushed aside her irritation.  Just because she was a prostitute didn't make her rude.  She was still a good girl.  She raised an eyebrow, but swallowed any comment.  Frankly, she was surprised.  This wasn't the kid of guy that usually called for a date.  Tall.  Dark.  Incredibly handsome.  Bare feet peeked out beneath we'll-tailored slacks.  An open dress shirt gave her a glimpse at an excellent physique.  She found herself curious about why this guy was paying for it.  His smile broadened as though he read her mind.  She walked through the door into an immaculate apartment.

"What should I call you," he asked.

"Rebecca," she answered, immediately taken aback.  She never gave her real name.

"Rebecca."  He tried it out, as if he didn't doubt her at all.  The way he said it poured over her like honey.  Her body responded in a way she didn't think possible anymore.  "I'm Jim, Rebecca.  May I take your coat?"

He had specified what she was to wear.  There was no illusion, yet, she was unashamed.

"Yes, please.  Thank you, Jim."

He slipped it from her bare shoulders and watched it slide past her slender waist.  His eyes traced the curve of her full hips and caressed her lush, bare ass.  She stood in his entryway in nothing but her garters, stockings, and heels and he devoured every inch of her perfect alabaster skin.  She heard his bare feet pad over to hang her coat by the door.

"Follow me, Rebecca."

Her name poured over her again.  She rarely heard it anymore, except for a few close friends at the agency.  Certainly not from a man's lips.  He led her to the doorway of a bedroom, then stopped.

"Crawl.  I want to watch you crawl to the bed."

She tossed her hair indignantly over her shoulder.

"I won't crawl for anyone."

A single finger traced the sweep of her spine.  The full curve of her ass.  He popped her sharply, getting her attention with a quick rush of moisture between her thighs.

"You'll crawl for me and you'll like it."

Something about his voice made her want to obey.  She rationalized.  He was paying her.  It wasn't the strangest request she'd had.  She looked back over her shoulder at him and then sank to her knees.

He watched.  See didn't crawl so much as prowl.  He watched the sway of her perfect ass.  The glint of moisture on her bare pussy lips.  Her full breasts hanging between her sculpted arms.  She reached the bed and raised herself up, dragging her body over the edge.

"Did that please you... Jim?"

He heard it in his head.  The inflection.  The reverence.  The eagerness.

"Say what you wanted to say," he whispered.

She drew a shaky breath and spoke again.

"Did that please you...Sir?"

She heard a sharp exhalation behind her.

"Very much, Rebecca.  Very much."

She listened to him shed his clothes.  She stared forward, afraid to watch as his shirt dropped to the floor.  His slacks followed.

"Take off your watch, Rebecca.  You have nowhere else to be tonight, do you?"

The words "Nowhere but with you" left her lips before she could stop them.  He took her watch and laid it on the nightstand, returning to run his hand through her luscious curls.  She moaned and rested her head in his palm.  A fingertip beneath her chin turned her to face him, his hard cock brushing her lips.  She peered up beneath dark lashes, taking his tip on her tongue.  Now it was him that moaned.

"Good girl, Rebecca.  Good girl."

She smiled at his praise, remembering how much she liked this game.  The give.  The take. The surrender.  It has been so long.  and now this, with him...

He slid deep into her mouth and she moaned around him, trembling on her knees.  This isn't what she was used to anymore, but he gave her everything.  The love and devotion she'd forgotten.  The reverence and respect she'd sacrificed.  A perfect moment of need and fulfilled desire.

He pulled from her lips and bent her over the bed.  She heard a rustle and tear of a foil packet and wondered, if he was hers, what it would feel like to fuck him flesh to flesh. He slid into her with another whisper of her name and for one strange, perfect moment, she remembered the word home.

A Most Unusual Gift

At his command she shimmied out of her panties and handed them to him.  Her cheeks flushed as he crumpled them in a ball, held them to his lips, and inhaled.  His eyes closed like he was enjoying a rose.  To him, her perfume was better and she loved knowing that.  She settled in, flinching at the cold vinyl against her bare ass.  He flicked on the headlights, lighting her way.  When she promised him anything he wanted for their anniversary, she didn't expect this.

"Get out," he said. She heard the excitement in his voice.

She tried to suppress her smile, knowing he was trying to be all big and bad, but it wasn't working.  She knew him too well; it'd been too many years.  She stepped out of the car, hiking her skirt as she sauntered towards the wall, her hips swaying the way they did when he first saw her.  The old car.  The stockings.  It was like she was a teenager again.  She felt the familiar warmth in the pit of her belly as he set up his phone on the dash.  She felt the moisture gather between her thighs as she pulled her skirt higher and leaned towards the wall, unsure what was next until she heard the car door.  Excitement speared her.  She tried to sneak a peak as his dress shoes clicked across the pavement, echoing through the alley.  His hands found her hips and he grabbed hard, digging in his fingers.  Claiming her in a way he hadn't in a while.

"Mine," he growled into her ear.  "I've never seen a finer ass.  And it's mine."

He reached down and ran a hand over her stocking clad calf then traced her garter with his rough fingertips.  A tiny moan rushed from between her lips and he smiled.  He knew they couldn't have very long, someone would stumble upon them.  He thought of his phone, of the evidence they could enjoy later as he unbuckled his belt.  He was so hard for her still after twenty years.

"Hands on the wall.  Feet apart."

He popped her ass with a sharp smack, making her gasp.  He reached around, dragging his fingers over her slit, brushing her clit until she whimpered.  Without preamble, he sunk deep into her pussy.  The moan he'd heard a thousand times sounded new.  Alive.

"Oh, God, yes," she muttered.  He smiled as they found their rhythm, her squeezing him tight in the glow of the headlights.  His hand on the small of her back pushed her  over further.  the damp chill air licked around their sweaty bodies.  Her cries echoed off the walls, like each grunt that sounded off with every thrust.  He was new.  She was new.  It was everything.

She tossed her head back the way she did when she came and he bit her ear lobe the way that made her crazy as he gave her all he had.  Slumped across her back he whispered private promises of more to come.

He was her gentleman again, lowering her skirt and escorting her to the car, thanking her with a searing kiss that curled her toes and made her want him all over again.  She climbed in and he placed a blanket over her legs, remembering now she wasn't just his lover but his best friend, the mother of his children.  She smiled at her gentle man, remembering the same.

"Happy Anniversary, baby." she whispered.

He said the same as their old car roared to life and they went back to their lives, video safely tucked away, her panties in his pocket.

They Always Come Back

I stumbled out of the sun onto the weather beaten porch.  There's no way this place should be standing after so long.  The parking lot was riddled with tumbleweeds instead of stacked with sedans.  The "Free Lunch Buffet" sign had faded from red to pink and hung by one chain from the eaves.  She'd been gone for years, of that I was sure.  And if she wasn't gone that picture sure wouldn't be the same.  I shook my head with a sad laugh and shoved open the door.  I had to see.

Haphazard Christmas lights were strung along  piles of nostalgic junk.  A silent jukebox winked at me from the back wall.  Vinyl chairs with torn seats gathered around stained tables.  At the back stood a bar with a woman behind it.  A smile warmed her pleasant face.

"Drink?"

I ran my hand over my face, trying to ditch the road-weariness.  I'd been on the road for hours before I saw the battered tin sign.  It was the same sign I saw fifteen years ago, the first time I saw the beautiful girl she was, not the exquisite woman behind the bar that she'd become.

"You were a Heineken guy if I recall."

"There's no way you could remember me."

"A girl always remembers her first."

He gripped the cold bottle in his hand and went back in his mind.  His buddies had kidnapped him for an impromptu bachelor party and brought him here.  The club was hopping back then.  Girls danced on a stage that seemed rickety even then.  The serving girls wore high heels and cowboy hats, not a stitch else.  He laughed and said he'd have a few beers and be out the door.  But then he saw her by the jukebox.  Dark curls framed her angelic face.  Her lush mouth begged for his cock.  Her body was perfection.  He had to have her.  He did, in the back of the bar on a beat up old sofa she gave him everything.  He'd never forgotten her.  Through countless rounds of self pleasure in the shower and the flaming destruction of his marriage, this girl never left his mind.  And she was here.

"I own the place now.  Not that it's much of a place.  Some of the girls still dance on Fridays.  I leave my clothes on these days."

"Sad shame," I said with a smirk.

She smiles and sets me up with another beer as I drain the first.

I remembered the first night.  The way she felt beneath me.  Her sweet taste.  The sound of her voice.  The music thumping in the bar as I pounded into her in the back room.  The reality that never lived up to her.

I shook my head and did what I came to do.  I took off my ring and left it on the bar, there in the place I'd lost so much else.  I never had a chance.  I wanted a repeat, a second shot, but her faraway look told me I'd never get it.  I tipped my bottle in her direction and threw a handful of bills on the bar.  it was the ring she grabbed.  I watched her pull a glass jar from the bar and toss it. It disappeared among so many others.  How many, I wondered.  How many like me had she ruined?

I stumbled back out into the sun, somehow finding peace.  At least she'd remembered me for a moment.  At least I hadn't faded in asking the masses.  I may have been her first. I sure as Hell wasn't her last.

Not like she was for me.

----

A day late and way too long.  Forgive me this one, it's a bit tablet.  More of a concept than a story.

Trading Places

She waited for me.  Well, almost.  Her black panties dangled from one delicate foot. Her strap slid off one perfectly curved shoulder.  This is what I'd prayed for when I'd given her the room key, but I never thought she'd come.

She was the aggressor.  She didn't do soft and delicate.  But this one time, because I'd asked her to, because of what was at stake.

She remained quiet as I took off my watch and lay it on the cheap, hotel table, then unbuttoned my cuffs and my shirt.  Finally divesting myself of my slacks, shoes and socks until I stood before her in my boy briefs and simple cotton bra.  She tensed as I knelt at her feet, my hands resting on her taut thighs.  I nudged them open, my eyes focussed on the fine wisps of downy soft hair that covered her mound.  She fought against me for a moment, but I raised an eyebrow.  It was my turn. And she was exquisite.  I nudged her thighs apart and pressed my lips to her sweet flesh. Her fragrance assaulted me like it did every time.  Nothing made me want her more.  I swallowed hard.  This time I would taste her.  I would give her what she gives me.

I could feel her uncertainty.  Her vulnerability.  I glanced to the costume of her clothes that I had worn and understood.  Her watch.  Her slacks.  And now she lay bare to me the way I have a hundred times to her... but to me it comes easy.  She was the aggressor.  She didn't do vulnerable.

I traced my tongue along the seam of her pussy, gathering droplets of her nectar like honey.  She squirmed beneath my kiss.  Gasped.  Moaned.  I splayed my fingers across her soft white belly and held her down, deepening my kiss.

"Stop," she says.  "I can't do this.  I can't take it."

"Hush," I whisper.  "Be me. Just once, let me make you feel good."

A whimper. A twist.  Her head rocked back as I explored.  Tasted.  My hands rose to her full breasts and she thrust them against me.  Once.  Just this one time.  A tear slipped down my cheek as a flood of moisture hit my lips.  She said my name as she came.

She came for me.  She actually came.

"Stop," she said, curling on her side. 

Tears flowed freely down her face.  In ten years I'd never seen her cry.  Ten years and I'd never tasted her.  Seen pleasure twist her face..  Seen so much pain.

"I'm not you.  I'm me."

I took a deep breath, her taste still on my tongue.  The first time in ten years and it had to be the last.  If I loved her, I had to love her for who she was and nothing more.  Quietly I slid the boy shorts from my hips and handed them to my wife.  My lover.  My all.  I laid down beside her and told her the only thing she needed to hear.

I'd never ask again.

In Case of Emergency

She was in the tub, as expected.  What I didn't expect was being rendered breathless.  Incapable of taking action. This should have been easy.  I slip in while she is relaxing in the tub.  I quickly slip the cloth over her mouth and control her brief struggles.  I gently push her under the water and watch for air bubbles.  Pay day.  Yet this... her dark hair spilling over the rolled rim of the claw foot tub. Her small, high breasts peeking through the white bubbly foam.  I didn't expect that it was her.

"It's only fitting," she said.

:"I swear. I didn't realize it was you."

She smiled a sad, wise smile and I was uncertain that she believed me.  I was uncertain that I believed myself.  I pulled my gun out of the inside pocket of my jacket and laid it on the back of the toilet tank.  Her eyes opened wide.  It wasn't my usual style.

"Emergancies only," I explained.

I didn't want to ask my question.  I didn't want her answer.  Yet, I couldn't help it.  I moved to sit on the edge of the tub, removed one glove, and reached beneath the water to trace a single fingertip down her arm.  Her entire body tensed.  I can't say that I blamed her.  Mine did too.

"What... what did you do?"

She closed her eyes and whispered, "I slept with another man."

The pang in my chest was that it wasn't me.  Not anymore.  I waited, knowing that there was more.  They'd both cheated.  I half expected that the boss knew about she and I.  Maybe he did.  Maybe this job was his justice.

"His brother," she continued.  "I fucked Johnny.  That was the end.  I've been waiting for you ever since."

My cuff dipped into the water as I traced her breast.  I tugged on her nipple the way that always used to make her whimper.  Her eyes closed and her breath escaped in a rush.

"You're here to kill me," she says.

My mouth opens, but the words hang on my tongue.  I can"t lie to her.  I never could; that was the problem.

"Get out of the tub."

"If you don't kill me, he'll kill you."

I know this deep into my bones.

"Get out of the tub.  Please.  Let me touch you.  Let me kiss you.   Please... one more time."

She does.  Her small, wet body was in my arms.  Her tongue slid along mine, sparring and dancing.  I palmed her small breasts and took her nipples in my mouth.  I did everything that she loved.  And for that moment, I loved her the way I used to.  I loved her until she moaned around my cock.  Until she whispered my name as she came.  Then I loved her again.

I collected myself, tugging my glove on, knowing I'd still smell her on my fingertips when I took it off again.  I picked up my gun.  She didn't flinch this time.

We walked to the hallway, where she lifted on her tiptoes and kissed me again.  She saw it.  I gave myself away.  I single tear fell down my cheek.  She wiped it away.

"I'm glad that it was you," she said.

"Me too."

I stepped back, leveled the gun, and pulled the trigger.  There was no moment of shocked outrage on her face.  No false hope.  Only a tear to match my own.

I stepped over her body and out of their lives, tucking away my gun and locking the door behind me.  I shook my head.

"Emergencies only."

Glory Days

He held the bong between his naked thighs.  I loved to watch his dick twitch as I fit my mouth to the blown glass tube.  I'd pull the bowl and take a hit and he would pull my mouth up to his.  He loved a good shotgun.  I wrapped my hand around the glass and pulled it from between his thighs.  My knuckles grazed his cock and he flinched.  My mouth curled into a slow smile.

"I know what I'd like to wrap my lips around."

I leaned in as he reached up, tucking a strand of hair behind my ear.  That's when I knew that I loved him.  Unfortunately, I had loved someone else first.  So had he.  None of that mattered that first night.  I took him between my lips and the world fell away.  It rained that night.  We lay wrapped tight in each other in the back of his old bus.  The roof took a good pounding and so did I.  But then I cried.  I laid in his arms and wept of the thought of losing him.  There was nothing we could do.  

His body moved over mine and eased my sorrow.  His touch was a symphony that drowned out the rain.  He brought me over and over.  In the morning I left his bus and returned to my world with the promise of next year.  It happened.  It happened each year for four years.  I left my life, he left his, and we met at the music festival.

I waited in our spot the fifth year.  I squealed and clapped as his bus pulled in.  He kept driving.  He wrapped around and parked a little ways down. He wasn't alone.  She slid from the cab and grabbed the baby.  I sat and watched until he saw me.  All he did was shake his head, but I saw it.  I saw that it hurt him, ending things that way. 

I came back the following year.  Even the year after that.  He didn't.

Now here I am, waiting for him again.  A chance meeting fifteen years later.  I was buying concert tickets.  He was buying a CD.  Same band.  He wasn't wearing a ring and mine was long gone.  I hear a familiar sound and laugh as the old bus rattles into the parking lot.  I felt it again when I saw him, that old spark.  The one that still made me blush when I recalled that first night.  He walks in and a I smile.  I always thought those were our glory days.  He smiles back.  I was wrong.  I think these will be.

The Hunger

His eyes may be different, but the hunger is the same.  He watches from a distance.  It's the other him that she watches for.  This, this flimsy handsome body is harmless.  As harmless as hers.

She made her way through the desolate woods.  It was time to take her basket to Grandma's.  She was warned.  Her step father warned her with his own wolfish leer to avoid strangers.  Stay pure.  Fear the wolf.  She did.  She feared him every night.  These woods, they were barren.  Creepy.  But the wolf she feared the most wasn't in them.  The wolf in the woods was a great shaggy beast with powerful fast claws and sharp flesh-tearing teeth.  He snarled and howled.  She would know him by the hunger in his gaze.  She laughed to herself.  No, she knew real predators.  This mythic beast instilled no fear in her.

He skulked behind the trees, watching.  Waiting.  She slowed.  With a furtive glance, she removed her cloak with a flourish and spread it out on the ground.  Grandma wouldn't miss just one currant roll.  She sat on her cloak for a nibble.

He wore simple clothes.  Modern.  Unobtrusive.  It was part of the magic.  Whenever he turned, he kept his clothing with him.  He was just a young man.  His eyes maybe different, but the hunger was the same.  Not the same.  As fierce, but not the same.

She pulled out a second bun.  She saw him watching, this handsome young man.  He must be hungry.  Starving, really.  She held out the roll and he crept close, forgetting his form.  She thought him odd.  Isolated. Handsome.  He took the food from her hand with a smile.  She's done this before.

She shook her head.  Handsome.  Beautiful.  Hunger.  she kissed him.  He tried to walk away, but there was no way now.  Not when she bared her her ripe ivory breasts with nipples like juicy cherries.  Not when he could sink his teeth into her plump ass.  She was warned.  But it was her that howled as he took her on the red cloak.  Her touch on his human skin.  Her wet heat around him.  A tangle of frail human flesh.  a mess of hunger and need.  But only she was warned.

The knife was quick.  A flash of silver.  His warm blood on her hands.  Shock and pain twisted his face.  At least she'd let him cum, she thought.  She pushed him off her to watch him change.  His nose elongated into a grey muzzle.  His skin covered with thick, grey-black fur.  His beautifully powerful limbs curled into a silent leap.  She wiped the blade on the ground and fixed her clothes.  She gathered Grandma's basket.

She shook off a brief sting of sadness.  No, she wasn't afraid.  She knew real predators