by Eve Langlais
My boobs, a respectable C cup, jiggled with each jolting step, and branches whipped my naked skin much like a riding crop would.
Which begged the question, why was I buck naked in the woods?
Stopping, I planted my hands on my hips and looked down. It was me all right, from my Brazilian waxed mound to my tits, the left one slightly larger than the right and the nipples fatter than I liked. All me, in the buff, in the dark, outside.
While not averse to skinny-dipping, there wasn’t a lake around. Rather, I appeared to be on the edge of a park.
Ahead of me, a swing set, the wide metal legs spaced in a triangle, sat silent, the chains holding the seats still. The monkey bars painted in a bright array of primary colors were empty, as were the benches the mommies and their strollers liked to park at. Good thing they were vacant. If anyone saw me, they’d probably call the cops.
Then again, I doubted too many people would be out this time of night with their little demonic darlings. Shouldn’t children be in bed at this hour? I could be wrong, though. After all, how many times had I gone to a fine restaurant later in the evening and listened to a child testing the limits of their lungs while the clueless parents sat on their phones ignoring them?
Personally, I would have left the baby home with a nanny. Nothing should ever interfere with a good meal.
But I wasn’t in a restaurant, I was in a park, all alone, not a single soul around. Probably not a good idea, especially since I had no clue how I’d gotten there.
“Don’t tell me those cookies had LSD in them.” The last time I’d sleepwalked was after an incident with some special brownies. I’d woken up in the fridge, splayed in piles of food and definitely not as sexy as that movie Nine and a Half Weeks made it look. It probably explained why the guy I ate the brownies with never called back.
Creak. Creak. The swing seats began to move, swaying back and forth on their chains, not a breath of air or a pair of hands to push them.
Fucking freaky. I didn’t pee down my leg, not yet.
Just because something screwed with me wasn’t a reason to be afraid. Add to that the fact I’d waited all my life—and watched countless horror flicks—kind of hoping for my own supernatural moment.
Finally. It was happening.
Don’t fuck it up.
I waved. “Hello, Mr. or Mrs. Ghostie.”
Not even a moan replied, but the swings stopped dead. The silence somehow grew heavier, pressing on me, and the darkness thickened despite the park lights.
The skin at my neck prickled, and I couldn’t help but whip my head around. There was nothing there, nothing I could see, yet the sensation of being watched increased.
I fully turned and squinted into the darkness, but the trees on the edge of the park didn’t reveal anything, not even a pervert whacking off at the view of my perfect and naked body.
Turning back, I squeaked, like a mouse caught in a trap, because standing behind the swings, tall, taller than a human, hairier than one, too, was a wolfman with glowing golden eyes.
The hair on his body appeared dark, thick, and lush. His shoulders were broad, his legs oddly jointed, and his face pulled into a muzzle. As for farther down his body, below his waist, he definitely showed signs of liking what he saw.
I, on the other hand, wasn’t into fornicating with the wildlife, so I took a step back and winced as my bare foot left the soft sand of the play area for the coarser gravel of a path.
The pain I could tolerate, and a pedicure would fix any damage; however, I still froze at the warm puff of air against my hair, followed by an audible sniff.
Oh, shit. Something is behind me.
Although it went against my self-preservation instincts, I still whirled around and squealed like a pig with its tail yanked when I saw a second wolfman standing right behind me, close enough that I could reach out and touch.
I didn’t want to touch. I didn’t want to be here, alone and naked, with two wolfmen. My sense of adventure only went so far.
The horror movies advised against making sudden moves. I knew better than to show fear in front of a predator, but my humanity—and perhaps a bit of proper girly fear—kicked in, and I took off running.
No surprise, like any prey that bolted, I gave them the perfect excuse to chase.
For the second time that night, I found myself running and very unimpressed by it all.
Why was this happening? Since when did wolfmen play in my park? Shouldn’t they have a leash? Did they not see the signs?
I bolted across the lawn, the dew of the grass sticking to my feet, knees pumping to my chest, yet knowing there was no way I could escape. How could I outrun two large predators?
My bladder clenched tightly when something howled behind me. Those Kegel exercises I’d done had just proven their worth. I didn’t let loose a stream down my leg, but I did loose a litany of curses to make even Meemaw blush.
“Goddamn, motherfucking, leg-humping bastards, where’s my gun when I need it?” Certainly not on me, unless I’d tucked it in my va-jay-jay before embarking on my nocturnal stroll.
I’d almost reached the sidewalk, which really didn’t offer any extra protection, when something hit me from behind. Like a tree, I went timber as I hit the grass.
I scrambled to my knees, fingers clawing at dirt, survival instinct kicking in, determined to keep fighting, not willing to die.
A hairy body covered mine, the fur coarse and thick, tickling against my skin. The hot breath of the beast puffed against the skin of my back. A freakishly long arm wrapped around my middle, the paw end of it tipped in claws, but they didn’t dig into my skin.
The wolfman did, however, yank my ass backwards, hard against him, hard enough I felt a need to exclaim, “Get that thing away from my va-jay-jay.”
To my relief, the beast didn’t take advantage of me, and it took a moment for me to realize I no longer felt fur against me or claws but flesh and hands. Powerful hands that manhandled me onto my back and then gripped my wrists to pull them above my head. My captor stretched my body and pinned it under a very masculine and aroused one.
Familiar brown eyes stared down at me.
“Dale!” I might have screeched his name. “What is wrong with you trying to scare me like that?”
“You’re not scared.” His straight white teeth with pronounced canines appeared in a wide smile.
“Really? Then explain why my heart is racing.”
“Exertion is part of it, but do you know what else I smell…” He nudged me, a gentle rub of his nose on mine as he whispered, “Excitement.”
Yes, this was exciting, and also possibly dangerous. If a cop drove by and saw us naked on the ground, he’d assume the worst. He’d probably arrest us for indecent acts in public.
I’d have a criminal record.
Awesome. I’d be a badass. A rebel. Meemaw would freak. I’d have to get a tattoo.
“I’m almost afraid to ask why you’re smiling,” Dale said.
“Can’t a girl be happy for no reason?” I wiggled my hips. “So, what’s a nice wolf like you doing in a place like this?”
“You tell me. It’s your dream.”
“Dream?” This wasn’t real? Bummer. But at the same time, the possibilities…
“Why did you call me into your dream, kitten? Did you need me to finish something?” He punctuated his query with a thrust of his hips.
Heat pooled in my sex at the feel of his cock nudging at my clamped thighs. My nipples tightened as the skin on his chest brushed them.
Did I want to finish what we’d started? Kiss that delectable mouth again? Let him take me, his hard cock thrusting, his body heavy on top of mine?
Yes!
What about Mike? He’d kissed and touched me, too, and I liked it just as much. Didn’t he also deserve a chance?
Before I could even answer myself, the lovely naked body atop mine got torn off, and I could hear some cursing and thumping of fists meeting flesh.
Sitting up, I
gaped. It appeared, by merely thinking of Mike, I’d called him. Or had he always been there, the second wolfman in my dream, silent until now?
Whatever the case, I had two naked men in my fantasy, and neither of them was playing with me. Talk about my subconscious working against me.
Forking two fingers in my mouth, I whistled, loud and shrill. The strident notes stopped them dead.
I waved and smiled. “Oh, fellas. I’m over here. No need to fight when you can share.”
“Share?” Dale spat the word out as he tossed his head, flinging hair out of his face.
Mike made an equally disgusted face. “What makes you think I want sloppy seconds?”
I frowned. “Ain’t nothing sloppy about this body, mister. I am tight.” A coy smile. “Why don’t you come see for yourself?”
Nothing like the promise of sex to wipe the light of battle from a man’s face. The guys untangled themselves and stood to face me.
Ack. Someone fetch me a fan or some smart pills because I was struck dumb, and speechless. I was also erotically punched in the va-jay-jay because…wowzers!
Standing in the flesh—if dream flesh counted—were two epic examples of manhood.
Chiseled abs, the kind made for licking, tapered waists with sexy V’s I wanted to trace, muscled thighs, perfect for bouncing me on, and thick arms, meant to hold me up as they pounded me while standing.
But the pièce de résistance: epic-sized cocks.
As they stared at me, Dale sizzling with heat and promised danger, Mike with a hint of anger and fierce passion, I couldn’t help but feel a quiver in my sex. A hunger in my loins. A need for not one of these men but both, dammit! Call me greedy, but I felt fairly confident I could handle it. And if I couldn’t? I’d die orgasming.
I leaned back on my elbows and wantonly parted my thighs. Don’t judge. This was my wet dream, and I could do whatever I wanted, and I wanted to do them both.
“Anyone want a taste of honey?”
“I thought I smelled something sweet,” Dale growled.
So sexy. It made my insides quiver. Lying flat on the ground, no longer caring where I was but wishing I’d chosen a bed instead of grass, I kept my gaze on the guys as I ran my hands down my body. They watched and liked, so evident in the way their cocks rose and lengthened.
Oh, my.
Licking my lips, I managed a husky, “Are you both just going to look at me all night?”
“What do you want?” asked Dale. He sauntered toward me, hips rolling, cock jutting proudly, a beast on the prowl.
“You know what I want. Your tongue tasting me. Your cock fucking me.” Not shy in real life, I didn’t hold back in my dream.
“What about me?” snapped Mike.
My gaze moved to him, the gruff mask hinting at vulnerability. I recognized it because I suffered from it, and like him, I hid it.
“I want you both.”
“We don’t share.” This from Dale.
“But what if I can’t choose?”
“Surely, there’s one you like better,” said Mike.
“Maybe if you both gave me a sample, I could decide.” I batted my lashes, and yet I could see them holding back.
Hell no.
I licked a finger and let it trace its way down, down until I found my sweet spot.
The men stood frozen, and hard. So very, very hard.
“It’s a dream, lighten up,” I whispered.
Magic words, or finally all the blood left their brains, and they stopped overthinking it because one moment I lay along on the ground alone and, the next, I had a body pressed to my front, and since they’d rolled me on my side, I had a body pressed against my back.
Sweet heat and arousal rushed through me as two sets of hands began to roam my flesh. Two distinct mouths traced paths on my skin.
“That’s better,” I murmured. “See, isn’t it nicer when we all play together?”
“You talk too much,” growled Dale. His lips claimed mine, scorching with passion, the press of them fierce, so fierce I moaned.
Or did I moan because Mike sucked that sensitive spot on my nape? Did it matter? It felt amazing.
Decadent.
Right.
And to think they were arguing against it. Could there be anything better than being smooshed between their bodies, their evident maleness pressing against me?
I panted in between kisses, squirming against their bodies, the skin-to-skin touch electric. I pushed my ass against the hard erection behind me. From the front, Dale’s fingers dug into my hip as he thrust and ground against me, his cock trapped between our bodies, and still, the friction of his hard length against my lower belly proved exciting.
As if they suddenly both had the same brilliant idea, I found myself flat on my back as a pair of mouths each latched onto a nipple.
Holy hell. I squirmed and writhed and panted as their hot tongues, surely double jointed and devilishly long, swirled around my nipples. Their lips tugged the turgid flesh, pulling it before sucking it, alternating their movements so that I was in a constant state of extreme arousal.
When they bit into my skin, I cried out and grabbed their heads, my fingers sifting through hair different in length and texture, another reminder that a pair of them pleasured me.
A part of me struggled to remember this was a dream when it felt so real and so right.
Who cares if I’m only imagining this? The pleasure was real. And I wanted more.
I wanted them to take turns fucking me. To fill me up with cocks, to thrust into me, bringing me to the edge of ecstasy and then tossing me over.
Instead, I got their fingers, one from each man, penetrating me, finger fucking me, driving me closer and closer to the edge. My hips arched off the ground, and they pushed me back down.
Held me down as one tugged at my nipples and the other man, oh God, the other one nuzzled my cleft.
His hot tongue—
A car horn, strident and insistent, woke me suddenly. Sweaty, aroused, and most definitely alone in my bed.
“Fuck me,” I muttered. Couldn’t the rude person outside have waited a minute longer? I was so close. My poor flesh ached, yearning for the climax it had almost achieved.
Squirming on the sheets, I realized I needed satisfaction. Perhaps Dale and Mike weren’t here, but that didn’t mean I couldn’t take care of myself.
I kicked off the sheets and shimmied out of my underwear, my T-shirt not long enough to get in my way.
Lying on my back, I drew up my knees and let my thighs part, exposing myself to touch.
My finger found my moist slit and penetrated, dipping into my honeypot, finding it already soaking wet.
Drawing my finger out, I used my wet digit to rub my clit, pleasuring myself with nimble strokes. Imagining more masculine and callused fingers on my flesh, stroking me, a hot tongue licking me.
Shudder.
I did so love to be licked.
My second hand reached down and penetrated my hungry pussy while my other hand continued to stroke my clit. In and out I thrust, imagining a stiff cock and hard body atop me.
I could still remember the feel of the lips, hard against mine. The bodies hot against my skin.
As I worked myself faster and faster, my hips arched off the bed, and I might have howled when I came.
I just couldn’t have said who I howled most for.
Mike Interlude
Looking Dale in the eye proved a little difficult the next morning, the erotic dream Mike experienced still weighing on him.
Since when do I fantasize about getting into a threesome with my buddy and a girl?
Since when did he lust about a girl he wasn’t even sure he liked?
While his mind might not yet know exactly how he felt about her, his body did. The moment they’d shared had left him unsettled. Wanting.
Hungry…
And he didn’t hunger alone.
Usually, knowing Dale or Sebastian also lusted for a chick would make him back
off. He wasn’t into macho games of posturing or vying for affection. Mike wasn’t a guy looking for a permanent entanglement, and yet…something about Brenda drew him. Something about her made him want to throw his usual misgivings to the side.
He wanted her.
But so did Dale.
Only one could have her, though.
Or could they manage to share?
Mike couldn’t help but recall the sense of rightness from his dream, the erotic pleasure of worshipping a woman with his best friend at his side.
Had he suddenly turned bi without knowing it?
Eyeing Dale as he entered the kitchen, Mike didn’t find himself engulfed in lust. Didn’t want to grab his buddy by the ass.
What did it mean?
I’m the shrink. Shouldn’t I know? Could it be that, in this case, he could perhaps find it in him to share?
Then again, it wasn’t just up to him. There was Brenda to consider, and then Dale himself.
Could Dale come around to the way of thinking that so many around the world already had, that sharing one woman, without jealousy, was possible?
Interesting tidbit…Mike noted that Dale had a problem meeting his gaze.
Did he also have the dream? Surely not. Dream walking was something for witches and Native Americans, not a modern-day wolf.
Mike must be imagining things. Then again, maybe he wasn’t because Sebastian, after a moment of silent eating, asked, “What’s up with you two? You’re both acting like you had a fight.”
“A tiny one. No big deal,” Dale replied. “We’re all good now.”
Were they? Yes, they’d stopped fighting enough to get into a car together and go do some investigating for Pete, but they never actually talked about anything.
There wasn’t really any time. All too soon after leaving Brenda’s, they found themselves engrossed in a new witch killing across town.
Either the wizards had fucked up destroying the demon, or there was another one on the loose, or so the evidence indicated.
The crime scene had one body, that of a witch, torn apart. Blood missing. Chunks of flesh gone. However, the bite marks were much smaller than in the previous cases. And Pete indicated a few, stating, “I think there was more than one creature here.”
