by Asia Marquis
It meant I wasn’t subject to some peeping Tom’s illicit desires but to the whims of some greater and more sinister plotting that involved a ‘we.’ I worried. “Not like that fella, Jeremy Reem, you’ve been seeing.”
I looked at him dubiously. Jeremy wasn’t a monster; far from it. He was a nice guy. I’ve been adamant about that haven’t I?
Used that phrase at least once, I think. He might be a lousy lay but he really did try. He must’ve seen the look on my face, because he spoke up on the double.
“Look. We’ll explain. My partner is in the van. He’s a better talker than me. Just, please, let’s get out of here.” He started walking purposefully westward.
I could see in the light of a lamp on the road that a van was sitting there, the kind that TV news studios used to broadcast live from the scene of a shooting or something similar.
The driver side door was open and vacant and I followed the tall, ugly man towards it. I figured that at worst I’d be horribly murdered and as I said I was a bit drunk, and I’m a bit gullible as it is so I wanted to see what the fellow had to say at least.
I was sitting in the back and as it turns out it was essentially similar to a TV news van. There were a half-dozen small monitors that were turned off while I was inside, some recording equipment, the men seemed more and more like some sort of spies.
I was worried not for my physical safety, not anymore, since the big fellow was in the front and occupied with driving, and his partner who was in back with me was an invalid and had his wheelchair strapped down so that it wouldn’t roll around the back.
“Are you listening, miss Gardner?”
I blinked, shook my head a bit. “I’m sorry?”
“Your boyfriend. We believe he’s been involved in some unpleasantness and we want you to help us.”
I frowned a bit. “I’m not sure I’d be comfortable with that, mister... ?”
“Braun. Frank Braun.” He extended his hand, leaning over the arm of his chair. I could smell his cologne, a soft scent that almost escaped detection.
He might’ve been an attractive mate if it weren’t for his handicap and the company he kept. He continued, oblivious to the fact that I’d been largely ignoring him.
“If you still feel that way after you’ve heard what we have to say, then we’ll go our separate ways and nobody will have to be the worse for it. The thing is, miss Gardner, that we believe your beau to be...” he paused and made a face.
“Have you heard of werewolves, miss?” I laughed. Laughed right in his face, assumed it was a prank. It wasn’t.
The vehicle jolted, and I could feel it turning end over end, rolling and I was banging against the ceiling and the walls and screaming. It seemed to go on for an eternity, an eternity of pain and blur and sickness and the sure feeling that I wouldn’t make it out of this god damned metal death trap alive.
But it did end, eventually, and when it did I heard the rivets on the doors creaking apart with a “pop.” I curled up into a ball, fearing the worst, and from the screams of the other men who’d had the benefits of seat-belts, I can imagine that my fears were justified.
I felt strong arms envelope me, carrying me like a sleeping baby out of the wreck, and I could smell smoke. The body of the person carrying me was so powerful, and so warm, and I was so afraid after everything that had happened that I almost started crying.
I was set down on a bench, or what felt like a bench, as my eyes were still clenched tight as if it would work like hiding under the covers and if I just hoped hard enough the boogeyman would go away.
But it couldn’t last. And eventually my eyes did open and I saw the wreckage of the van. It had been thrown for a loop, and that was only the beginning. It was upside-down, with the side door ripped off and laying in the grass in a crumpled heap.
The passenger door was pressed against the front tire like a broken elbow and my vision was swimming. It was all in flames, and silhouetted by the flames was a figure, six foot high or more. I couldn’t see him clearly--it was clearly a him by the size and shape, but I could see that something was... off. Without being able to see clearly I couldn’t say much about what was wrong but I knew there was something.
He turned and started to walk towards me, and I’m sure he was saying something but I couldn’t tell what it was. Still, the fire blocked any details from my sight, presenting me with a scruffy-looking outline and a long, jabbering jaw.
His legs seemed too long, too spindly, and if that’s screaming werewolf to you, given the conversation I just told you about, you’re getting ahead of me but I can’t deny I was wondering the same thing.
You don’t see them, even if you accept that they exist and I didn’t then. If I said whether I do now or not, that would be telling.
My hearing didn’t come back all at once; first it was just a high whining sound, at the edge of my hearing.
Then slowly the lower sounds came back, a muffled moaning sound, the whirring of the wind.
The moaning started to clarify into speech but it stopped before I could understand clearly. The tall, strong, spindly man stood in front of me, now, kneeling on his too-long legs and looking at me with concern. His nose was broad and flat, flatter than the flattest nose you ever saw, and his pupils were the size of saucers.
I blinked and he said my name. It came out like the sound of a dish disposal with too much gristle in it, and it never cleared. I guess someone didn’t think to turn it off and try to push everything into the blades.
He stepped towards me, and his arms outstretched and when they started to go around my shoulders I understood how the ant feels under the boot.
I knew with absolute clarity that one wrong move, one false step, and by guts would be on the bench for some poor sap to find in the morning. It was unnerving and I tried to keep calm by focusing on not pissing myself.
Strong, powerful arms encircled me and pulled me tight to a body that felt like it was made of iron and I sobbed. I know it might have made sense to beg for my life, or to assume I wouldn’t die altogether, but you weren’t there. I sobbed and looked through wide eyes that stung with the wind and it felt like an eternity passed between each blink.
I felt a kiss on my neck, the thing’s lips pressing against me, and I felt his teeth through them, too big to be human.
I put my hand on his chest and pressed, gentle and shaking, but he let me go and I stood up, walked away a few steps and put a hand on a tree to try to steady myself. I turned and leaned back, and everything seemed to slide into focus.
They’d told me that Jeremy was some sort of animal, a werewolf--though, Lord only knows they’re fiction--and here was a man-animal with certain... slightly dog-like features. He was protective of me, and... I looked at him, wiping my eyes and trying to really see. And that’s when I noticed his cock.
It wasn’t like a dog’s, not one bit. I’d almost make a horse comparison. It looked almost as thick as my wrist, and hung between his thighs, the size of a goddamned cucumber.
I didn’t know what to think, exactly. I just stared for a long time. And he started to walk towards me, seeing my stares, and that cock, that delicious looking thing, swayed gently as he moved, stiffening slowly--twitches teasing me as if to remind me that he was there. And then he was standing in front of me and there it was.
I looked up at what I hoped was Jeremy and he had a smug, relaxed expression. He’d never been able to hide his pleasure with things. For all his good qualities he was as open as a book.
He kissed my neck again and I felt his hand, thick and meaty and everything Jeremy wasn’t, touch the back of mine, pressing it towards his manhood.
I took the hint, hefting it in my hand. I let my hand slowly move up and down it, getting a feel for its weight and size.
I savored the suckling on my neck and rubbed a little faster, feeling it growing in my hand. The scale of it made the whole thing more gratifying, as a very visual indicator of his arousal started to press into my stomach.
/> I could feel his hands on me, fondling my breasts and tangling into my hair, and I let him take off my shirt, even though we were in public and anyone could’ve seen me with this monster at any time.
My bra came up, lifted unceremoniously and his lips were on my breasts, kissing them all over, letting his sharp teeth lightly graze the skin, and as I understood the danger it made me that much wetter, knowing that I wouldn’t come to harm.
It was empowering.
I realized I had stopped jerking him off and started my movements again in earnest, moving steadily faster and with longer strokes. I could feel his hips twitching as he tried to get just the right stroke and I smiled, pulling his head against my breasts with my other hand.
I could feel him fumbling with my pants at that point and I pulled him back and stripped completely before laying in the grass, looking up at him and his monster cock. He smiled that smug smile and reached down to me, but instead of taking me he grabbed me by my hips and lifted me up in the air.
I was unsettled and tried to get a footing on the ground but as I quickly found I wasn’t able to reach.
He laughed, that deep and scary sound like his voice, but I was so hot by this point that all my other emotions were a blur and seemed to funnel down between my legs.
The werewolf lifted me up and rubbed his cock against my lips, holding me aloft with only one arm around my waist, and when he was satisfied that I was ready for him he pressed me against him. He was gentle, but his girth was such that I could feel myself straining to accommodate his manhood and it hurt.
I screamed, part in pleasure and part in pain, and he started to gently pull me back off, then back on, and soon he was moving me like a giant fuck-doll, in and out, and I couldn’t tell whether it hurt more or felt good more, but soon I couldn’t tell which way was up and I could feel my eyes rolling in my head and everything was a blur.
He thrust hard and fast and I had been cumming for as long as I could remember, as if I’d been created for this moment, and finally I felt him starting to lose his rhythm with the closeness and when he thrust into me hard and deep I pulled him close and put my legs around his back and I felt his seed shoot into me, his cock pressed right into my womb, and I sighed softly.
He pulled me off and carried me, nude, through the woods toward our shared apartment. Somewhere along the line I fell asleep, feeling safe and protected. I woke rested in my bed, my pussy raw and sore and I felt delicious.
I got up and still couldn’t quite walk straight, and when I went to check the note pad it was short and definitely Jeremy’s handwriting:
“So, puppies soon?”
I couldn’t help but laugh.
Hot Bitch's Werewolf
Interracial Urban Shifter Romance
Asia Marquis
The girl with the blue ribbon in her hair. She's the most popular dancer here. When she steps onto the stage, every man in the room has their eyes on some part of her body. Maybe it's her tight ass, or her slender legs. Maybe it's the way her breasts give way to a thin waist that's been trained by a corset. Whatever it is, she is not the kind of woman that can be ignored.
As she removes her white blouse, she reveals the blue silky bra beneath. Anabelle Richter, the daughter of a man unknown and a mother of ill repute, has taken what her parents gave her and made the best of it. She never had a real home or family to guide her, but still she has a reason to dance. She needs to pay for college.
Bright red fingernails, carefully manicured, unbutton her blue silk skirt and let it drop before bending over. Her ass cheeks jiggle. Every man in the room breathes in. She arches her back and stands up again. Every man in the room breathes out. Her movements become the only thing the men breathe for.
Dancing 4 hours a night brings in plenty of money, money she needs to afford her small apartment, food and tuition. That's all she cares about.
Some women ask her if she feels dirty or like a slut. The truth is, Belle is a virgin, and she doesn't mind showing off her body at all. She worked hard for her strong stomach and sculpted legs. No, there will be no regrets years from now when she's running a business. She does what she has to do.
She wraps her leg around the pole, arching her back as she spins down it. In the audience, 30 men watch as they sip alcoholic drinks. 5 of those men work together, celebrating their boss's birthday with a lap dance before 4 of them would go home to their wives.
Their boss, however, has no one to go home to. His piercing green eyes stay fixed on Belle's ebony skin, his mouth open slightly in awe.
"Hey, I think that's the girl," one of his employees say. He breaks his gaze away from the beauty on stage long enough to give the man an angry look.
"Well, get your dollars out, men. Let's see if she'll come down to us," another one says with a laugh in his voice. Their boss, Jack Roman, sighs in anger. It's true, he does want to see more of her body, but he doesn't want to share with the assholes he's sharing his night with.
Jack is a hopeless romantic, and of course he believes in love at first sight. There's no doubt in his mind that's what this is. Pure love, for this brown haired beauty. Jealousy is bubbling up into angry hatred for every other man here watching Belle dance and strip.
Jack also has a secret, though. A secret that means he should be alone for the rest of his life. Sure, he may be friends with the people he employs, but even they keep a safe distance from him. Even the women who seem to thrive on danger avoid him. Despite his good looks and his wealth, Jack has had only a few willing lovers.
Belle sees the men in Jack's party waving money for her, and she knows what she has to do. Sauntering down the steps in her stiletto shoes, which are blue and soft to match her outfit, she makes her way to the group.
"Our boss is turning 37 today!" one shouts. Belle raises her eyebrows with a smile.
"Which one is the birthday boy?"
All 4 men point to Jack, who is glowering with embarrassment and rage. What a horrible way to meet the woman of your dreams, and then to have her give you a lap dance!
Leaning over, Belle's mouth comes close to Jack's ear. "Happy birthday, big man."
Pure animal lust courses through his body as her breasts press against his should softly, a small giggle escaping her mouth as she stands back up. She turns around, her back and ass facing him now as she shimmies for the rest of the audience. It's not easy, pleasing one man without boring the whole audience. Luckily, another stripper is stepping onto the stage now to keep them occupied.
Nearly sitting in Jack's lap, she shakes her butt for him, grazing ever so softly against the hardon he's had since she got onto the stage. Her panties shine in the club's lighting. Jack can't take his eyes off her firm mounds, wanting so bad to touch them though he knows that's not allowed.
Turning around again, Belle shimmies once again. Her bra slips down, a bit of her nipple showing now. Noticing but not caring, she shimmies harder until her bra slides down nearly completely. Feeling slightly faint, but very sexy, Belle isn't quite sure what is coming over her. All she knows is she wants in this man's pants, now. She leans over and plants a kiss on his neck, her deep red lipstick leaving a mark on his skin.
A whoop from one of his coworkers brings Jack from ecstasy and back to his rage. Worried he may do something stupid, he looks for a way out of the situation. Shaking her ass on his lap again, Jack takes this opportunity to whisper to her, "Would you like to go somewhere private?"
A mixture of embarrassment and outrage comes over Belle. What am I doing? She pushes away from the man. "I'd like to be paid now, please."
"Aw, don't be like that. It's his birthday."
"I'm not a prostitute,” she spits to him, but gives the man she was dancing for an apologetic look.
The coworkers hand her a large stack of cash, more than what Belle expected for cutting her dance short. She almost feels bad until she notices a strange look in Jack's eyes. Feeling thoroughly creeped out, she scurries away from the group and back stage.
Looking at the clock, she notices with relief that she can leave now. Leaving the panties and bra on, she slips on a short black dress and a jacket to shield her from the cold fall night. Belle chats for a few minutes with some of the other girls before heading out. Her plans for the night include studying and watching some trashy TV.
Unfortunately, she can't seem to get Jack's piercing green eyes out of her mind. Her whole walk home she spends worrying about him, jumping at every bump and dog bark.
The tall girl lives in an apartment complex that has doors in the front and in the back alley. The back alley doors are quieter, requiring a key instead of a buzz. When she gets home at night like this, she tries to stay quiet since she lives near a lot of new parents who don't want their babies woken up by the stripper down the hall. It's really best to just avoid trouble when possible when you're in that line of work.
The only bad thing about taking the back door is that the walk is long and there aren't any street lights. The dark doesn't usually creep her out, but there was just something in the almost wolf-like face of the man she gave a lap dance to that has her on edge.
Slowly, she walks down the gravel road, making sure not to ruin her new shoes. The crunch of the stones beneath her feet acts as a sort of drone that helps her focus and relax as she walks. At least, until she hears the panting.
At first she wondered if a runner had decided to take the alley back home, which is pretty common around here. But then she realized it sounded more like a large dog panting to regulate its body heat. She stops, her pretty hair swaying in a ponytail behind her as she looks around. "Hello?"
No answer. She keeps walking, but only long enough to realize that she isn't only hearing her own footsteps anymore. She takes off running, her stilettos making it hard. She can finally see the back door, pushing her hand into her coat to grab her key, but her foot catches on something. She trips and falls, the world going black.
When she wakes up, her eyes are blurry and her head is throbbing. Her hand rises to her scalp, where she finds bandages wrapped around the most painful spot on her skull. Blinking a few times to clear her eyesight, she looks around.
