AUTHOR’S NOTE: The following story contains adult situations, graphic sex and violence unintended for anyone under the age of eighteen. If you are such a person LEAVE NOW!
Sybil couldn’t believe her eyes when she saw the notification she received on the dating service. Her eyes felt like they were going to pop out of her skull. Not trusting what the words said the first time she re-read them.
Wanted; A Real Woman.
I am looking for an all natural, no trimmed female between the ages of 24-29 who believes how nature had adorned or scented her requires nothing in the way of grooming or the use of overpowering perfume. Reply only if you’re serious and meet my requirements.
The rebel in her was cheering and hooting. Sybil found her tongue running across her lips and her mind racing with the possibilities of meeting the perfect man who would understand her idiosyncrasy.
It can’t be, she thought. In this day and age of over-primping and adherence to the slightest whims of the fashion world there’s a guy out there who likes his ladies to be natural?
But the proof was there in black-and-white. She felt her fingers trembling with excitement as she began to reply to this notification but a part of her was worried. The guys she’d been attracting since her high school graduation often recoiled in horror when they finally got her panties off. The expression on their faces was familiar enough to summon up without any margin of error in her brain. It was a look of half-disgust and the other half-surprise.
This time will be different, I just know it.
She hated to trim down there. It left red sore bumps no matter how she tried to avoid it with various creams, lotions and shaving products. Douches and sprays designed to “freshen” that particular place always stung and made her feel tacky and wet. Finally a year after she graduated she quit bothering all together and that’s when the trouble started. In an era of “landing strips”, “bald beavers” and “Brazilian waxings” her au natural state sent many lovers fleeing into the hills.
It’s not my pussy looks like it’s surrounded by a wild, untamed bush—it’s just not what they expect! She proclaimed to herself. Dammit, in fact I’m proud of myself.
With a renewed sense of pride she hammered at the keys to her laptop and sent “Lon” an e-mail. For some reason it seemed to her as right as rain. She debated on sending a picture of herself, unclad and free but instead attached just a headshot taken of her by her best friend. Hitting the send button she found herself grinning from ear to ear. It felt damn good.
Sybil sat in the coffee shop with a steaming mocha latte in front of her next to her paperback book. Both sat unattended since her mind was racing with thoughts of what Lon would look like. She was toying with a lock of her blonde hair twisting and tugging it, a habit she had since she was a little girl. Looking down at herself she wondered if the blouse she was wearing was too provocative for a first meeting. It was black, silk and soft. However it was unbuttoned to the second button permitting her modest cleavage to be displayed. Her long legs were pulled under the chair and crossed but the short skirt she wore was giving the male patrons a good view of her long, sexy limbs. Already two guys had stopped over and tried to talk to her. In her distracted state she accidentally or perhaps unconsciously gave them the brush-off.
“Sybil?” a deep voice asked.
She looked up.
The man was tall, dark with broad shoulders and narrow hips. His brown eyes wandered all over her with an approving expression creasing his handsome face. Her heart felt like it had risen to the base of her neck and without much mental effort she could feel it beating with excitement. There was some sort of primal power, like waves of sonic pressure flowing off of his body and breaking over hers. Lon smelled faintly of soap. What he didn’t smell like was some overly powerful cologne version of what men tended to use nowadays. It was a manly and musky fragrance but without the chemical aftertaste. But beneath it was his scent which was more attractive than his soap’s. And she realized it was a natural aroma she was enjoying to the fullness. Her breath was suddenly rapid and she felt like she might faint straight away like some idiotic heroine in some cheap romance novel.
“You’re Lon?” she asked.
“Yes I am,” he answered.
“Please sit down.”
Trying not to gawk at him she picked up her latte and took a sip. The action helped her calm down a bit and restore some of her lost composure.
“I got your message and I’m really happy we have a chance to meet,” Lon stated softly. “I hope you’re equally pleased.”
“I am,” Sybil coyly replied. “Would you like coffee, tea…”
… or me? She thought naughtily.
“No I’m fine.”
You most certainly are!
“I’d like to cut to the chase and you’ll have to pardon me if I’m blunt about it. The dating service online keeps matching me up with women who don’t fit my criteria and I’m getting a bit cynical about it.”
“I know what you mean.”
“Well my profile specifically states my sense of personal style, if you get my drift but ever guy I’ve come into contact with…,” she trailed off,
“Finds your choice in hygiene inappropriate?” he finished.
“Yes that’s exactly it.”
“I’m not one of those men, I can assure you. I like my women to be natural, unblemished by the social pressures of grooming in those places. In fact it’s my general opinion a person shouldn’t fight nature but give in to its cellular programming. My last girlfriend had a weight problem she had been fighting for years. Instead of coming to terms with what size her body was demanding she jogged continuously just to avoid her figure’s biological insistences. Worse yet are those females who soak themselves in perfume to the point you can barely breathe.”
“Well I do curl my hair, wear a bit of a scent and wear makeup,” she said, an instant worry her minor grooming habits would put Lon off.
“No that’s fine I can hardly smell it. I don’t mind things like that but if you’re one of those who feel nature hasn’t dealt you a fair hand and tries to fight it…well then we’ll have a problem,” he stated emphatically.
“No what you see is what you get.”
“I’m so glad to hear that, Sybil. You’re very beautiful and I’m happy we are getting a chance to meet.”
She felt the smile spread across her face while her pulse thumped happily and strong in her chest.
“I think we’re going to get along just fine,” she grinned impishly at him.
“So? What’s his name?” Brenda asked. “I haven’t heard from you in nearly a month so it has to be a new man in your life, right?”
Sybil covered her mouth and tried not to giggle into the cell phone. Her best friend had just called with prying questions in her usually tactless manner.
“Lon Capers,” she replied.
“Sounds like a porn star’s name,” her BFF sighed. “Are you sure it’s his real name?”
“He’s wonderful to be honest. Nice, employed and quite the gentleman, I think I’m in love.”
“He’s not put off by your…”
“Girl, I hope you’re not just settling for a guy who’ll put up with your shaving and hygiene issues. Frankly I don’t understand what the big deal is. You ought to see how wild Bill gets when he sees the little happy trail I shave and douse myself in…”
“Brenda please have some tact.”
“Okay, okay. So, have you had sex?”
“Ah hello? I said he doesn’t mind my naturally curly blonde hair or the fact I don’t smell like a French whore on Friday night.”
“Weirdo. Well I’m happy for you. Are you seeing him tonight? It is Friday after all and if you can I’d like to meet this mystery man of yours. Hey, maybe we could double up.”
“I’m not seeing him tonight.”
“He said something about a prior commitment.”
The tone of Brenda’s voice took a small chunk out of Sybil’s happiness. The simple two letter word seemed to find a chink in her armor, penetrate it and cause enough damage to her general well-being to make her begin to doubt.
“What do you mean oh?” she asked her BFF.
“Let’s see… how to put this delicately.”
“Like you ever do anything delicately.”
“You’ve been dating for four weeks and its hot and heavy, right?”
“Now he begs off and gives you a vague explanation to where he’ll be.”
“It’s not vague!”
“A prior commitment, no more details than that? If I didn’t know better I’d say that was pretty damn thin an excuse. Look I just don’t want you to get hurt.”
“I’m fine Brenda.”
“Well I’ll see you around. Bill is coming over here in a few minutes… it’s Bill’s night, you know and I have to get the pole up and put on my g-string and pasties!”
She sighed to herself at the woman’s blatant sexual reference about her boyfriend’s sexual fantasy of watching her friend like some brainless stripper.
She hung up the phone and immediately a platoon of doubting Thomases began to march through her mind like an invading army hell-bent on destroying her happiness. No amount of self-defense could she muster up to throw back the invaders.
“He’s not cheating on me, dammit!” she swore. “Besides we’ve only been dating a month and it’s not like we’re engaged.”
Her attempts to quell the questions in her mind fell flat and sounded patronizingly weak. Images of them together began to come up. His words, called up in her fevered confusion were over-analyzed, critiqued and picked apart like a coroner would a cadaver. Within the course of a half hour the destruction started by Brenda’s comments had become full blown truths. Sybil cried for an hour then got mad.
She watched him pull out. The sleek black Audi coupe slid out of the garage with an oily manner giving Sybil the impression of a spy (or cheater) slinking off to some unknown rendezvous. Her temper rose several degrees. The heat of her ire forced her to turn on the A/C in her Toyota Corolla in the hopes of chilling and calming down her burning fury. Waiting for Lon to get a half a block away she sat fuming behind the wheel.
I finally find a man who doesn’t mind my hairy groin and aversion to chemical deodorant and he’s a cheating bastard, she snarled to herself.
Pulling up every lying kiss, false caress and lip service compliment Sybil glowered at the red taillights moving farther away. She put the Toyota into gear and pulled out of her hiding place. For the next ten minutes she tailed him out of town.
“What’s he doing here?” she asked.
The park outside of the city was closed off due to a recent scare of rabid raccoons. The yellow police caution tape and the painted sawhorses covered the entrance making it impossible to pull in. She watched from a distance as Lon’s vehicle found a break in the trees to pull off into. She paused until he got out and walked into the night darkened forest.
“Who’s he meeting out here?” she demanded to no one. “Is he playing Tarzan and Jane with some slut?”
She growled deep in her throat as she parked her Corolla behind his Audi. She hopped out of her car and shivered. The autumn wind was brisk and cut through her like a icy blade.
“Well I should’ve thought to dress better,” she chastised herself. “Shorts and tee shirt and tennis shoes isn’t much despite my hoodie.”
The hoodie was a last addition to tonight’s wardrobe. It was black and kept her upper body warm at the expense of doing absolutely nothing for her long legs.
I better get going or I’m gong to lose him in the woods, she thought.
Ten minutes and a dozen stinging abrasions later Sybil pushed past a stickler bush while prying the clinging branches out of her denim shorts. She had lost Lon halfway into the forest. Her ears strained for the sounds of passionate cries of sexual infidelity she knew were occurring. Between the cuts on her legs, the chill in the air and her general sense of being lost Sybil’s temper had reached critical mass.
I’m not even going to give him a chance to explain, she fumed. I’m just going to rake my nails over his smug, cheating face!
Then a deep throated cry shattered the natural sounds of the nocturnal forest. A spike of icy terror burst into being at the base of Sybil’s spine and extended in a milli-second to the edges of her extremities. It was a hideous sound. She found herself reacting to it on a primal level, instinctively taking a few steps backwards to avoid any confrontation. Sybil’s flight-or-fight reflex had most definitely chosen the latter. Her knees went weak and her legs began to shake in fear. Every sound she made echoed like a gunshot in her ears. She tried to backtrack slowly to get out of the path of whatever was making that sound. She stumbled against a tree and tripped over something on the ground. Her butt thumped against something squishy and wet. Immediately her shorts were soaked completely through with a warm sticky liquid.
What the fuck am I sitting on? Oh my God! she inwardly shrieked.
It was a dead animal confirmed by a single hesitant touch of her hand. The fur was still warm and the gaping maw of its eviscerated stomach coated her palm and fingers with blood and steaming guts.
I’m so going to puke!
Jumping to her feet Sybil tried to wipe of the pieces of the animal’s gory innards but ended up smearing it all over herself. Frantically she began searching through the darkness around her to see if she could locate a pile of fallen autumn leaves to use. Rustling through the dead foliage on the ground she heard something cough, a deep grunting tone that made her guts turn to water. She froze and began to listen.
It was moving around behind her. The soft but heavy footfalls of a stalking predator filling her head with scenes of her own splatter-fest demise. Sybil could envision herself being found by some park ranger in the same condition as the medium-sized animal she had sat upon. Terrible images reared up in her imagination vivid enough to shatter her reason. Without giving any thought to staying silent and undetectable she started pelting pell-mell into the brush. Branches slashed her face, unseen roots rose up to confound her feet and bushes angrily attempted to slow her pace. The huffing sounds of the hunting creature rose to a single roar. Sybil nearly dampened her panties in a hot burst of submissive urination. She rushed through the woods and eventually could see her car under the streetlamp’s faint glow just a hundred yards away. Elation burst into her body giving her added speed like the cheering of a boisterous crowd egging on a underdog at a track meet. Something leaped into her path and she was cuffed on the head by a thick padded paw. The impact on the right side of her face made the stars in her vision go supernova until it was replaced with the darkness of space. Blinking her eyes in stunned confusion she fought to regain all her mental prowess. What was crouching over her made Sybil wish the first blow had killed her.
It was huge, hairy and hunkered down with gleaming double fangs bared in a hideous feral grin. The yellow illumination in its slitted eyes, blackness of its fur, the whiteness of its whiskers sent another blow annihilating her attempts at self-preservation. The hooked claws emerging from the spreading paws made it clear to her she was living the last few moments of her short life.
“P-please no!” she shouted.
It growled its response.
“Be a nice monster and go away.”
The sinister creature ignored her request and began to sniff at her with its lowered head. Snuffing and snorting it investigated her. Sybil cringed away from the button-like nose pushing gently against her hoodie’s front. The beast reared up suddenly and stared at her. For a moment she swore she wasn’t going to be ripped apart like some tasty treat but be free to go on her way in safety. Without thinking she reached out and scratched it between its perked up and long furred ears. The luminous eyes blinked twice and it raised its chin. Sybil dug her nails cautiously into the hairy throat of the nocturnal killer and felt the rumbling response to her actions.
“You’re not such a bad monster, are you?” she cooed like speaking to a once threatening canine.
It rumbled something in return.
“You just wanted to be petted, didn’t you?”
Then it’s glowing orbs reopened with an intensity which hadn’t been there before. It licked its nose and cleaned its whiskers once again baring its lower and upper canines.
“Ah… okay now…I’ve got to go home…,” she whispered fearfully.
The beast stepped away and lowered itself to the ground. Sybil hopped to her feet and tried to circle around the supernatural fiend of the forest. She kept her eyes on it and readied her body to dodge it’s inevitable leap.
“Now don’t you dare…,” she began.
The monster leaped at her so fast she had no time to react to its superhuman pounce. Before she knew it she was sprawled on the ground face-first with the growling, snarling creature tearing at her clothes with those sharp hooked claws. Ripping sounds filled her ears and added a new spice to her terror…that of being sexually assaulted by some moon-beast. She rose to her knees and came to the conclusion she was presenting her bottom to the monster like a prospective mate would do. She screamed in denial when the claws dug into the top of her denim shorts. The resulting tug flattened her back to the wet leaves beneath her. Her shorts were torn away in shredding noises adding to her terror. Wiggling on the soggy ground she thrashed out of its grip further saturating her bra and panties. Her feet dug at the slippery turf.
“Get away from me!” she wailed.
Sybil managed to get to all fours when her body suddenly was carrying a crushing weight upon her back. Hairy shanks kicked apart her legs. Wordlessly she shrieked against the unwanted attention from the aroused beast to no avail. It snarled lustfully ripping away her underwear. Her pussy was treated to a stabbing bump of the monster’s thick, hard erection.
“No! Stop it!” Sybil screeched.
Her right shoulder erupted in four points of searing pain. She felt blood trickle in warm streams down her back and into her ruined brassiere while agony laced her screams. It had bitten into her back just to the right of the nape of her neck. She was effectively pinned by the beast’s weight, the lack of any leverage and the grip on her bleeding shoulder. The next attempt of the creature to mount her was more effective. Sybil felt her vaginal lips part.
“No! Please don’t do this to me!” she wailed. “Lon! Lon, help me please!”
All movement by the fiend atop of her stopped. Seconds ticked by like minutes while the moon-beast growled low and irately. She felt it’s snarl vibrate into the pain just off the right side of her neck. Tears ran down her trembling chin, dripped onto her quivering breasts and finally spotted the wet leaves beneath her.
“Stop,” she whimpered, “let me go.”
“Ssssyybill,” it snarled sofly.
The shocking realization of the monster’s identity felt like her body was encased in an icy sheath. Her lack of escape efforts stunned her and gave the beast the wrong message. Past the hairy ruff of fur around her parted slit the wide shaft pushed into her. Sybil couldn’t believe her ears or the fact she was unexpectedly accepting what was happening. She relaxed with a shudder. Lon’s voice was deeply altered but she felt the passionate desire, natural and familiar pour off the beast on top of her in the same manner she had felt from the man during their first meeting.
“Sssyyybbbilll?” it queried.
“It’s okay,” she sobbed. “I don’t understand this but it’s okay.”
She felt him move forward and a paw reached around her trembling hips to pet the furred mane surrounding her cunt. Her pubic hair was now damp hair with unexpected and unnatural desire. The claws combed at the wet tangles of her hairy snatch, smoothing it out in a bizarre grooming kindness. His heaviness upon her back, the sylvan setting they were in and the impending sexual activity somehow didn’t seem frightening or unnatural. Sybil spread her legs wider inviting him inward. They had made love three times in the past weeks. Each session was hot, loving and perfectly wonderful. Lon was tender, caring and very attentive to her needs, fears and pain threshold. This time was very different and she wasn’t prepared for what happened next.
It wasn’t his amplified size or his roughness. Neither was the fact he was covered in soft hair and sporting fangs and claws like some raging monster. It was the barbed protrusions on his penis which didn’t bother her during insertion but when he tried to exit tore and stung her vaginal tissues. The hot burst of agony sundered down the avenues of her mind like a fiery and out of control chariot.
“No…d-don’t,” she sobbed.
But his hips began to buck. Deep he sank into her shivering cunt sending hot pleasurable delight from her bottom to her brain. But the reverse stroke made her shriek in pain. The agony and ecstasy sent mixed feelings of what Lon was doing to her making her feel both shockingly bewildered yet strangely natural. His hairy hips bumping into her up-thrust ass, the fangs buried in her shoulder and the barbs tearing at her intimate tissue tore at her reason. Looking down she noted in the muted light a long line of drool dangling like a spider’s web between the wide valley of her cleavage. She couldn’t focus her thoughts. Hot gushes of her breath husking out of her slack lips and the painful trembling of her body were the only non-sexual sensations she could decipher. Sybil was handling it until he began to animal-like hump her in a frantic fashion. The barbs on his cock ripping and tearing at her pussy making her scream so loud her voice broke. Raising her head back she croaked out harshly groaning in pain.
“Lon” she rasped. “Please Lon…”
He snarled in a primal fashion at her cries. It only seemed to egg him on to greater heights of passion and between the increased pain of unbridled pleasure Sybil wasn’t able to even take in normal breaths. She felt her eyes bulge out when he stuffed every inch into her overfilled cunt until it was pressed against the very bottom of her orifice. Lon held it there for what felt like an eternity. Without warning he climaxed, detonated like some broken water pipe filling the basement of her cleft in a shower of cum.
“Aaaaah!” she finally shrieked.
Hitching breaths made her boobs swing high enough to almost strike her chin. The fiery grip of Lon’s fangs deepened into her lacerated flesh causing fresh blood to spill down her back and chest. Sybil became suddenly aware of Lon’s orgasm fading. It erupted continuously with weakening spews into the very bottom of her vaginal depths with lessening convulsions. Her own climax was touched off. It was an incredibly powerful one unlike any other sexual experience she had ever felt before in her life. Like a tidal wave of primitive and carnal joy it washed over her. Images of the two of them rutting like animals on the jungle floor, staring up at the canopy of stars overhead and snarling out their lust-filled cries. Her vision blurred and Sybil came to the conclusion her eyes had crossed causing double images to be sent to her brain. Her body swayed up and down in wracking jerks. Her breasts swung heavily and her ass bobbed up and down still snugly held in place by his cock. Then he withdrew. Impaled like bug on a pin she couldn’t do anything but stay put and try to ride it out the searing pain. The barbs on the shaft of his member cut more grooves into her inner walls. Sinking face first into the musty smell of wet, decaying leaves she cried like a baby. Sybil felt the warm tendrils of blood oozing out of her lacerated pussy and running down her quivering thighs. Falling forward she curled up into a fetal position to try to salve her wounds. Her shoulder thumped in deep agony and the hot sting of her cleft sang soprano to its roaring bass. She couldn’t do anything. Moving only made the tearing sensation in her loins feel more pronounced, like she was increasing her wounds. The pounding hurt in her shoulder was sapping away her strength leaving her weak and trembling. Darkness crept upon her and despite all the screaming and thumping agony Sybil drifted off into a orgasmic induced slumber.
The chirping of birds, the warmth blanketing her naked flesh and the sounds of cars passing nearby woke Sybil from her deep sleep. Her body was stiff, sore and pain still radiated dully out of her shoulder and pussy. Uncurling herself she pushed and shoved at the leaves covering her body and bra and they spilled off of her in clumps. Some of the wet things still clung to her even when she rose shakily to her feet. For a dull minute she stood unmoving swaying on numb and tingling feet. Sybil found her tongue had to be pried off the roof of her mouth. Licking her lips and found her mouth dry as an old bone.
“Where am I?” she croaked in a voice she didn’t recognize.
She looked around trying to remember what happened. Flashes of recollections illuminated her mind making her dully try to piece together the night’s events.
“I remember coming here after following Lon,” she mumbled. “Something chased me and the rest… the rest I can’t seem to recall.”
Sybil’s confused state resulted in her walking around in circles her tennis shoes shuffling wetly in the soggy leaves. Each step made the pain between her legs begin stinging hotly and renewed a thin rivulet of blood to run down her right thigh.
“What am I not remembering?” she asked herself. “Why am I dressed in such a ridiculous manner? Shoes and bra? Where are the rest of my clothing?”
“Ugh,” something answered.
Sybil looked over and saw another lump hiding beneath a mound of dropped foliage next to where she had arisen. Staggering over she brushed aside the vegetable matter to find a sleeping Lon underneath. He was naked, gloriously naked.
“Lon?” she asked, her voice quavering.
He rolled over and opened his dark brown eyes. A brief expression of sorrow washed over his handsome features to be replaced by a sighing acceptance of what had happened and its inevitability.
“Good morning,” he groaned solemnly.
“Good morning to you,” she replied. “What happened last night?”
“You don’t remember?”
“Bits and pieces only.”
“I told you I had something to take care of tonight, why were you here?”
“I followed you because I thought… I thought you were seeing somebody else.”
“Foolish woman, now why would I do that when I’ve told you how much I love you?”
“I don’t know,” she sobbed, “my insecurities got the better of me I suppose. My friend Brenda suggested you were sneaking around behind my back—I should’ve just trusted you.”
“Now it’s too late,” he said in a sad, soft voice.
His face wrinkled up. He looked forlorn, upset and very unhappy like some naughty villain who had been caught breaking and entering. Yet still she loved him.
“It doesn’t matter just tell me what this all means?” she inquired.
“My family has been cursed. A long time ago one of my ancestors stabbed a witch’s familiar to death out of pure spite because it got in the way of his horse . The mangy animal was lying in the middle of the road, or so I was told. The old woman was very powerful and spat out a hex which has been passed down from father to oldest son for six generations. I’m my father’s heir.”
“You’re a werewolf?”
“No… not exactly. I’m not a wolf at all.”
She suddenly remembered the hooked claws appearing from the thickly padded paws, the small nose and long whiskers. But it was the fact the creature’s penis was barbed that finally shone a light on his real lunar condition.
“Yes,” he said, seeing her expression, “the woman’s familiar was a cat, a black cat to be truthful.”
“So w-what’s going to happen to me?” she stammered in fear.
“Well let’s just say we’ll be spending three nights together, under the stars and hunting in a very small but exclusive pack.”
“You’ve passed on your curse to me?”
“I’m sorry but it wasn’t my fault—you followed me out here, remember?”
“Oh yeah that’s right.”
He stretched out his hand and she helped him to his feet.
“Come on,” he gasped. “I have some clothes in the car.”
She let him put his arm around her and lead her the short distance to their vehicles. He didn’t look her in the eyes but kept his gaze elsewhere. She didn’t like this new Lon at all. She decided to try to coax his old self back.
“So why did you want a woman who was natural?” she asked.
“I would know your scent better and could train myself to stay away from you,” he answered. “Too many women today wear so much makeup, perfume and well…vaginal cleansers it fouls up my scent memory. I’ve tried very hard not to m-mate when the change comes over me. I maintain a marginal degree of control and I use scent to steer myself away from friends and loved ones.”
“I see. So it’s only because you’re trying to keep yourself from harming others that’ll you’ll date someone like me. It’s not because you find it attractive.”
“No. I happen to like your hairy…um…well you know.”
“Oh so you can ravage me in the forest like some sex starved were-kitty but can’t say the words hairy pussy? Some monster you are.”
They started laughing.
“Sorry I’m not that crass,” Lon finally replied.
“Well I rather liked the wild you last night,” she admitted.
“We need to get you home and cleaned up. In fact we could shower together at my place if you’d like.”
“That would be nice.”
She turned to face him. His face returned to its morose expression when he looked down and spotted the dark stains of blood on her shoulders and thighs. Lon hung his head down and began to quietly sob out in sorrow.
“Don’t be so sad,” she whispered. “It really doesn’t hurt that much at all.”
“I can’t help it,” he responded. “I’ve doomed you to a terrible existence and I find myself unable to forgive myself.”
“I forgive you. It’s my fault remember?”
“That’s scant comfort you understand?”
“Just tell me one thing.”
“I’m not going to have a litter of kittens, am I?”
He started to laugh. It was a small thing at first which grew into a deep rumbling series of chuckles making his body shake in a jerky manner. Sybil found herself joining in and wild and carnal thoughts of anticipation to experience the lycanthrope change. He hugged her fiercely calling forth all the hot animal passion they enjoyed the past evening. Her senses felt sharpened. Whetted by whatever magical virus she had received either by his claws, teeth or semen. Sybil could see the flashes of animals running and the accompanying soft rustling of the small game fleeing before them. The hot scent of their fear made her nose twitch and her hands curl into claws. She had never felt so alive in her life and it made her smile, her lips pulling back in a semi-feral grin. It was an intoxicating sensation!
He might feel I’m cursed but for some reason I’m looking forward to it, she thought hungrily.