by Rachel Bo
Tara sucked them both, with her pussy and her mouth, until they all collapsed on the bed.
Lying between them, she wished she could purr. What an utterly perfect expression of contentment. Of satiation. She settled for running her fingers softly up and down their chests, playing with the nests of dark curls between their pectorals.
After a while, Tara forced herself to sit up. “Let’s go do something.” Her lovers grinned lasciviously. She rolled her eyes. “I’m talking about seeing New Orleans. I’ve only got today and tomorrow left. And as much fun as this is, I’d still like to visit the French Quarter, do some shopping, that kind of thing.”
Jacob yawned and stretched. Johnathan smiled sleepily. “No problem. Sounds good.”
Tara scooted off the bed and rummaged in the closet for something to wear. By the time she had slipped into a pair of pale khakis and a clover-green sweater, they were both dressed and ready to go.
They spent the rest of the afternoon wandering the streets of New Orleans. Tara picked up some gifts for friends back home, enjoyed watching a man paint on an easel set up in the street. She tried to get the brothers to go in to see a fortuneteller with her, but they both balked. “These things are frauds.”
Tara shrugged. “It’s just for fun.” Opening the jangling door, she slipped inside.
The place didn’t seem like a fortuneteller’s at all -- at least, the way stories described them. Instead of gloomy interiors with dark fabric drapes, and a woman wrapped in mysterious veils and hidden by tons of makeup, this place was bright, the orange-gold evening sunlight streaming through two large picture windows at the front of the store. The furniture was white, and the fabrics were light and gauzy whites, greens, and yellows. The woman sitting at the table was young, wore no makeup, and was dressed in a lightweight cotton t-shirt and short black skirt.
Her surprise must have shown on her face, because the girl laughed. “Don’t look like a fortuneteller, eh?” She beckoned. “Come on. Sit down. Tara, is it?”
She froze in the middle of lowering herself into a white wicker chair. “How did you know that.”
The girl laughed. “I walked by you guys on the street earlier. Heard one of your... friends call you that.”
Tara laughed nervously, lowered herself the rest of the way. “Oh.”
“Give me your hands.”
Tara frowned. The girl held out her own hands, palms up. “Go ahead.”
She reached out. Rested her hands in the girl’s.
The young woman didn’t close her eyes or make strange noises or anything like that. She simply looked at Tara and frowned. “I see danger for your companions. Something hunts them, and it’s drawing near, but your presence keeps them here. You will receive a gift, but you will have to give it away. You must... you must make them reveal their true natures to you. Tonight, before the stroke of one.” She shook her head. “There is great joy in this, but also great sorrow.” She shrugged and pulled her hands away.
Tara waited a moment. When the woman didn’t speak, she asked, “Is that all?”
The girl nodded, still frowning. “It is... strange. I sense your role in this as brief, but strong. I do not know exactly what is happening. Something... obscures my sight.”
Tara raised her eyebrows and chortled. “I’ll bet.” She stood and opened her purse. “How much do I owe you?”
The fortuneteller shook her head. “I can see you don’t believe me. There’s no need to pay if you don’t believe.”
Tara took out a five and dropped it on the table. “No, really. This was... interesting.”
She turned and stepped out onto the street.
Jake grinned. “How’d it go?”
“Well, she didn’t look like your typical fortuneteller, but the mumbo-jumbo was exactly the sort of thing you read in a novel.”
Jacob’s grin said I told you so, though Johnathan actually looked a little worried. Tara hooked her elbows around their arms and tugged them down the street. “Come on. Let’s go get dinner. I’m starving.”
Chapter Five
After a delicious dinner of crawdads and shrimp sausage gumbo, the three of them wandered back to her hotel. Johnathan had been quiet ever since they stopped at the fortuneteller’s, and when the elevator arrived and Tara stepped onto it, she was shocked when they did not move to follow her. “Aren’t you coming up?”
Johnathan shook his head. Tara wanted to scream with frustration. Yes, no, maybe so! He was as mercurial as a thermometer in the desert. She glanced at Jacob, but could read nothing in his sardonic gaze. Tara sighed. “Okay. Whatever.” She punched the button for her floor and watched them walk away as the doors closed.
Back in the room, she turned on the television and tried to find a good movie to watch. Nothing appealed. She turned it off and grabbed a book out of her suitcase. She slipped on her nightgown and curled up under the covers.
The book was good, but after a while she found her mind wandering restlessly. She kept looking out the window, seeing the stars, thinking about those long-ago nights when she would slip out to follow Devlin and Damien into the woods.
Around midnight, she couldn’t take it any longer. Getting up, she slipped into a loose pair of corduroys and a t-shirt. She stuck her driver’s license, room key, and a twenty into her pocket, and headed out into the night.
Just as she’d remembered, the labyrinth was only bordered by a six-foot brick wall, and that was covered in vines. For someone who had grown up climbing Wyoming mountains, scaling the wall was a cinch. Tara dropped softly to the ground. She didn’t know why she was doing this crazy thing. Remembering how much trouble she’d had finding the center of the labyrinth her first time around, she almost balked and went back.
Almost.
Her body ached. It was a feeling like homesickness, but more palpable. Tara moved to the labyrinth’s entrance and stepped inside.
The friendly, slightly sardonic nymphs that had seemed so harmless in the daylight became terrifying in the dark. Tara reeled through aisle after aisle of ghostly shapes outlined by silver moonlight, scared to death she’d get lost and be stuck out here until morning.
She never met a dead end, though. That magnetic pull, urging her forward, led her unerringly to the heart of the labyrinth.
Two heads turned with carnivorous haste, and Tara gazed into two sets of eyes richer than chocolate. Their gazes, sharp and suspicious, took in every aspect of her shape and attire, nostrils quivering as they sniffed the air. Tension vibrated in the moonlit clearing. Once again, she confronted beasts in the labyrinth.
Tara took a step back as the two wolves advanced. She swallowed. “J-Johnathan?”
The wolf on the left stopped, cocked its head. The wolf on the right kept coming. Tara’s voice froze in her throat. The beast circled, sniffing her, nudging her, guiding her to the stone bench in the clearing’s center.
Tara sat on the bench. Johnathan and Jacob moved in close, nuzzling her shoulder. Tara reached up and ran her hands through their thick, silky fur.
One of them -- Johnathan, she thought -- ran his large, rough tongue over her cheek. Tara smiled and leaned into him, rubbing her cheek against his thick ruff. She ran her hands down both of their chests, burying her fingers deep in their fur.
Johnathan’s rough tongue swept across her chest, dampening her shirt, making it cling to her braless breasts. She walked her fingers down a little farther, found his furry sheath.
Jacob licked her now, dragging his tongue roughly across the two pebbles visible beneath her damp shirt. Tara grasped her shirttail, tugged her shirt over her head, and dropped it to the ground.
With a low growl, they both began licking her breasts, their coarse tongues rasping across her nipples, heightening their sensitivity. Tara buried her fingers in their fur again.
Uttering a rumbling huff, Jacob shifted. Tara glanced down. Reached out and caressed his furry sheath with one hand, surprised at how small it appeared.
Yet even as she watched, it
grew. Swelling and swelling, until the sheath drew back and Jacob’s thick red cock gleamed wetly in the moonlight.
Tara shucked her pants with trembling hands. Jacob nudged her shoulder with his nose, pushing her back against the stone bench.
Tara sprawled before them, parting her legs, eager for their touch. She was so hot for them, the first hot pass of Jacob’s tongue had her gripping the sides of the bench as a brief, intense climax pierced her core. “Yes,” she whispered. “Yes!”
Her body burned with need. Sitting up abruptly, she pushed against Jacob’s chest until he sat back on his haunches. Without hesitation, she slipped off the bench and lowered herself over his cock.
His aspect shivered. Tara watched in shock as his head diminished, his thick fur thinning before her eyes, his human face looking out at her. “We can’t,” he gasped.
Tara nodded. “Yes.” She sank the tip of his cock into her pussy. “Yes, we can.”
“Oh, shit.” Jacob trembled, his features fluctuating wildly as she took him deeper and deeper.
“It’s okay,” Tara whispered. “It’s okay. Show me.” She sighed as she buried the last of his cock inside her. “Show me what you really are.”
Jacob shuddered, and then Tara’s pussy exploded with pain as his wolf aspect took control, his cock expanding and expanding inside her, until she opened her mouth to scream, and Johnathan’s tongue covered her lips, muffling the sound.
Tara sobbed and writhed, but she didn’t want to quit. Jacob sat quietly, sheathed inside her, and the pain began to fade, replaced by a pulsating, throbbing sensation that sent a thrill of pleasure through her with each beat.
Johnathan’s tongue swept from her lips to her jawline, down her neck. He tasted every part of her, licking her arms, her legs. He slid his tongue between her thighs and licked at her labia where they stretched around Jacob’s cock. Jacob’s tongue flashed out as well, to tease her nipples.
Tara moaned and began to move, pumping herself up and down slowly on the slick cock buried inside her. She wrapped her arms around Jacob’s neck.
He moved, standing slightly, forcing her to rise up and lie back on the bench again.
She drew her legs up, wrapping them around his furry middle. With a snorting grunt, he began to thrust.
Tara turned her face away, not wanting him to see how much it hurt. Focusing only on the pleasure, she dropped her feet to the edge of the bench, pushed her pelvis up to meet him.
He panted now, driving into her faster and faster, uttering low growls and occasional high yips. Every sound reverberated within her, stoking the fire of her need. Pain forgotten, Tara clutched the ruff of his neck, looked into his beautiful brown eyes. “Oh, yes, Jake. Yes,” she whispered. “Fuck me, wolf. Fuck me.”
With a yelp, he impaled her. Tara gasped and buried her face in his neck to stifle a scream as the base of his cock expanded into a huge bulb just inside the rim of her pussy, locking them together as his cock swelled and contracted again and again, drowning her core with his thick, hot seed.
Tara’s eyes clouded as wave after wave of ecstasy slammed through her. Within seconds, she felt him diminishing inside her, but the waves crashed on. The base of his cock deflated, and he slipped out.
Snarling, Johnathan knocked him aside with one massive shoulder and mounted her, pushing his rigid, gleaming shaft deep inside her in the very midst of her climax. Tara arched, mouthing yes, yes, but wordlessly, unable to breathe as he slammed into her, once, twice, three times. The base of his cock expanded even as her pussy contracted violently, and it was all she could do to keep from passing out from the sheer ecstasy of having such a huge member buried inside her while the pleasure just went on and on, every muscle in her body tightening as her pussy milked every drop of pearly essence from him.
His cock relaxed, and he backed out. Tara lay gasping, covered in sweat and tears, the ache between her legs almost enough to make her come again. Then Jacob and Johnathan were both licking her pussy gently, and she closed her eyes.
Each swipe of their tongues felt a little bit different, until she opened her eyes and looked to see two dark-headed, handsome men holding onto her thighs, their tongues dipping into her pussy simultaneously.
Tara arched and came again, milking those sweet, soothing tongues.
The chill air against her sweat-soaked flesh started Tara’s teeth chattering. Drawing back, Johnathan and Jacob ignored her disappointed mews. Johnathan grabbed her cords and pulled them up over her legs, nudging her until she raised her hips and let him slip them up to her waist. Jake picked up her shirt and slipped it over her head, then waited until she sat up reluctantly and slipped her arms in. They squatted before her, their naked bodies gleaming in the moonlight, looking like Greek gods of old.
“Thank you,” Jacob rasped earnestly. “You... don’t know what you’ve done for us.”
Tara laughed, albeit a little nervously. A breeze wafted across the clearing, chilling her to the bone.
Johnathan’s nose quivered. “Shit.” He looked at Jacob, who nodded. “We have to go now, Tara. But we’ll be back.”
She thought she caught a strange flicker in Jacob’s eyes, a hint of contradiction, but then it was gone and so were they, up and over the hedges in an instant. Tara waited, hoping they would change their minds and come back for her. But the cold was creeping into her bones, and they didn’t return, so she rose painfully from the bench and walked blindly through the labyrinth, managing to make her way over the brick enclosure despite her strained muscles and the discomfort between her legs.
Back at the hotel, she collapsed on her bed and sank into sleep.
The next day, St. Patrick’s Day, she didn’t wake up until the maid knocked softly on the door, asking if she wanted the room cleaned. “No,” Tara mumbled, trying to peel apart her gummy eyelids.
When she opened them, she found herself gazing at a grinning leprechaun. She sat up and stared at the ceramic mug, brimming over with clover. True Irish clover, large-leafed and robust. Groaning as her muscles protested, she crawled out of the bed and walked over to the dresser. There was an envelope next to the plant. Tara picked it up and opened it.
Happy Birthday, Irish. I’m sorry we can’t be with you today, but there are some things we have to take care of.
The clovers aren’t for luck. It is said that St. Patrick used the three leaves of the clover to represent the Holy Trinity. I want you to think of each one as you, me, and Jacob -- as a symbol of our joining.
I hope you like our gift. Keep them safe until we meet again.
Johnathan.
Tara frowned as she reread the note. All her life, she’d longed to meet a pair of wolves, knowing that Damien and Devlin were not for her, but feeling that it was her destiny to spend the rest of her life with such a pair. Now, she wasn’t so sure. The past two days had been the most exciting, scary, orgasmic, nerve-wracking days of her life, but she still didn’t know what it was all about. Who were Jacob and Johnathan? What were they running from? Could she fall in love with them, given time?
Sighing, she slipped the note back into its envelope. Reaching into the little mug of clover, she felt the soil. Too dry. She carried the grinning leprechaun into the bathroom and ran some water into the mug. The least she could do was hang on to their gift.
It really was a beautiful sentiment. Tara set the mug on the windowsill and stared at the tri-part leaves for a long time, wondering if the brothers really would return, and if they did, whether the three of them would ever be able to build a life together.
Rachel Bo
Rachel Bo is an award-winning author currently published in several genres. On the weekends, she works as a Clinical Laboratory Scientist. During the week, Rachel writes and rides herd on her handsome husband, two wonderful daughters, a rabbit, a snake and several remarkably hardy goldfish.
You can find Rachel on the Net at http://webpages.charter.net/rachelbo/ or e-mail her at [email protected].
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