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I am the Moon – part 1 – A story of Werewolf Lust

Content warning – consensual non-consent, shapeshifting, werewolf lust

As my favourite day of the year is almost upon us… Halloween of course silly! I thought I’d share a reworking of this story of werewolf lust in two or three parts depending on how evil I’m feeling! Mwoah-hah-hah-haaaaaah!

I am the Moon

I sprawl over the hide, spreading my fingers and sliding them through the silky fibres. I start with the deerskin, my eyes fixed on the wolf and bear just in sight. Being a vegetarian makes my new fetish particularly troublesome.

Every day for the last fortnight I’ve come into the museum half an hour before closing and rolled about in the natural history section. It is far away from the main door where the tired day-trippers and bus tours are now being herded.

My mouth waters as I leave the deer and crawl to the wolfskin. I lower my body forward in a snakelike motion and nuzzle my nose deep into the fur. At first touch, it feels wiry and tough, but go deeper and you find the softest, safest place. Through the layers of museum dust there is still the faint musk of a feral beast. It is what I am here for. That scent. It is strong and male and wild. I rake my nails through the fibres and release the powerful pheromones. My body responds with a sweet quickening in my panties and I pull the sides of the pelt and roll myself in it.

I venture a hand down towards my building want but something makes me glance around the room. Silence. The hairs on my neck stand to attention as the air turns thick and static. From nowhere a hand grabs me by the scruff of my neck and hauls me out of my cloak. I feel weak and hysterical and ferociously turned on at being caught.

‘Goodness,’ I purr, ‘no need to be so … forceful.’

The security guard stares through me as if he’s seen it all before. I hold on to his arm as he marches me though the animal room, tripping in my heels and wriggling about as I try to force my rumpled skirt down over my bum.

I thought maybe my shenanigans could easily be mistaken for some kind of medical complaint – an old-fashioned fainting fit at being surrounded by such terrifying beasts. But I sense that this man knows exactly what I’ve been up to. My skin starts to prickle with heat and arousal. I notice the thick arm clenches me tighter and the force of his muscles sliding beneath his shirt makes me tremble. Feigning fear, I pretend to grapple his grip from me but only enough to peel back the unbuttoned cuff of his pristine white shirt.

Oh my God. Curls and tufts of thick black hair spring out and I practically squeal in delight. I clench my thighs together as warmth floods my pussy at the sight. I try to bury my nose into his skin but he pulls me into him, forearm tight up under my arm, around my chest, above the breasts, and up to my neck. Perfect. I struggle a little more and he squeezes tighter.

‘You are barred,’ he growls into my ear. ‘Don’t think I haven’t noticed your little penchant for our furs.’

The exit is fast approaching and my nipples start to peak. I can’t break free from him. Not yet. ‘Wait, stop!’ I gasp. ‘I don’t know what you’re talking about.’

‘Oh yes you do.’ He stops abruptly and releases me, staring right into my eyes with the most piercing gaze. His irises are so blue they are almost white and they are rimmed with black. I can’t take the rest of his features in; they are so dark, so brooding. These eyes grip my attention stronger that any muscle. He is power. I breathe in hard and quickly, my centre of gravity has leaped to my throat and I sway. I am not upset at all when my heaving chest pops open the top two buttons of my blouse. I dare him with my mind to look down. He doesn’t.

‘Some of those pelts are over 300 years old.’ His eyes flash and a terrifying yellow glint sears me. ‘Have you any idea of the damage you could have done?’ His tone is low but hurts my ears. I am so transfixed by his stare that I can’t even tell if his mouth is moving. He has me by the shoulders and gives one hard squeeze. I think I can feel his nails pierce my flesh and I squirm, trying to break his gaze to check if I am bleeding.

‘Please, I’m sorry,’ I whisper. The man takes me by the arm once more and practically throws me through the exit. I notice now it is the staff entrance at the back and I’m surrounded by a long, high brick alleyway. For the first time feel genuine fear. The man is much bigger than I first thought and follows me a little, taking care to hold the door open with his heel.

‘Stand still where you are.’ His breath is hot on my neck. My skin is dancing again as I feel his fingertips brushing the back of my knee and thigh, pulling my skirt up. The touch is so gentle, I wonder if I am imagining it. Despite my recent fear, I have no compulsion to run, and shift my feet to accommodate the hand traveling slowly up to my underwear. My pussy begins to twitch as the feathery touch hooks into the back of my panties and pulls them aside. I feel two fingers – no, they can’t be fingers, they are sharp but gentle – slip to my aching pussy lips and prise them apart slowly. My juices flood out over them and I groan, bending forward as the man reaches into the back of my hair. The fingernails withdraw and reach further into my mound where they tangle into my own pelt. They feel, I realise, like claws. As soon as I think it, it’s as if they retract into flesh and the fingers retreat to the mouth of my pussy. Do it, do it! I think, needing desperately to surround something. I lean back into him and he slides his two fingers up into me. I clench around them and grind my arse into his forearm. My knickers have become tangled in my pussy lips just at my clit and are applying the perfect pressure as I pulse and rock. I don’t know what he’s doing with those fingers of his but my pussy is throbbing and clawing to come. I am on the brink, one last thrust, that’s it, I think as his fingers withdraw slightly for the final push. I brace myself but suddenly he pulls out completely and my panties slip back into place.

With his grip still fierce in my hair he growls low into my ear, ‘Here, 9pm.’ He pushes me forward and I stumble into the alley with the sound of the fire exit slamming shut…

Stay tuned for the next part of this shapeshifting werewolf lust story – don’t worry, I’m not too evil, the next part is scheduled for Friday, which incidentally is the Smutathon Spooky Smut Slam event! 10pm for spooky sexy erotica by your fave sex writers in aid of Endometriosis UK – hoping to see you there!

The finale of this story will be on the big day itself, which is particularly apt as we have a very special the moon this year known as Halloween Hunter’s Blue Moon!

Yes! Halloween coincides with the full moon which is not only a blue moon (second full moon of the month) but it is also the Hunter’s Full Moon – this phenomenon was last seen in 1944 – Happy Halloween indeed! What a night to be out moonbathing which is exactly what I intend to do.

If you hear any howling…

If you like spooky stories, you might like, The Cold Breath of Night

Have you listened to Is Our Love_? podcast yet? Find out where I found my first porno mag…

Why not treat yourself to my book, Drenched – full of sexy tales to get you… well… drenched 😀

Stay tuned for the next installment of werewolf lust…