A Cat of Nightblack Hue

Sean didn't want to come so soon, but his body was rushing out of control. His stomach slapped Nocturna's firm buttocks as he pounded into her more furiously than ever. He felt as if his entire body was liquefying, that he would pour all of himself into her and be part of her forever.

Nocturna's throaty growl was pure satisfaction as he finally withdrew and fell back, nerveless and trembling all over, onto the badly rumpled bed.

He had not even begun to catch his breath before she sprang on him, pinning him with her knees on either side of his head and her mouth once more lapping his cock with that unbelievable rough friction.

Her loins were poised just above his face, their mingled musk and juices pearling her midnight thatch of hair. Sean seized her hips and pulled her down, smothering himself, breathing and drinking and tasting nothing but Nocturna.

She coaxed him to full erection again – he wouldn't have thought it possible, but he was largely beyond thinking by now – and flipped herself around with that same acrobat's flexibility. She straddled him and impaled herself, and rode him with a hard and fast pistoning that sent them both rocketing again toward orgasm.

After he filled her again, she kept him clasped within her as she rolled and pulled him so that she was beneath him. She looked up with eyes that gleamed and glowed like spectral jewels, her long legs twined around his back. He couldn't believe it when he swelled and stiffened a third time, never leaving the slippery tightness that engulfed him.

This time, she lay quiescent and let Sean set the pace. He moved slowly, gently. She began to purr again, the tremors transmitting themselves from her body to his own. Her arms encircled him and held him in a loving embrace. Only when her coarse tongue tenderly licked moisture from his cheeks did he realize he was crying.

He came not with explosive force but with a cresting and outrushing that seemed to draw the last of the strength from his limbs. Breathing in ragged gasps that were not quite sobs, he let his head sink beside hers onto a pillow covered with the satiny darkness of her hair.

She held him and purred warmly in his ear until he sank toward sleep. They disengaged and lay side by side, his arm draped over her waist.

Morning light and hunger woke him. He yawned hugely as he uncurled his body and stretched. A long, bone-crackling stretch that sent him up on his tiptoes and arched his spine.

The room looked strange. Every detail crisp and sharp as high definition television, but the day was grey and colorless. He felt disoriented, and remembered with a burning surge of shame the dream of the night before.

Serves him right, drinking an entire six-pack of beer. It was a wonder he didn't have the hangover of all hangovers.

Feeling ridiculously guilty, he looked around for the cat. What had he been thinking, what had been on his mind, to conjure up some sort of bizarre erotic dream in which the cat had somehow turned into a woman? This was one he'd never tell anybody about.

The cat was on the pillow, all sleek and black with forepaws tucked under her chest and her slit-eyed gaze fixed on him. The tip of her tail twitched, and he could have sworn the cat was grinning.

Hadn't her eyes been green? He was sure that they had been, but now they looked silvery.

He hopped down from the bed and padded into the bathroom, meaning to see how red and bloodshot his own eyes were.

But the sink and the mirror were awfully high. He had to leap, and balance on the edge of the porcelain basin. It was easy, even when he turned toward the glass and was struck by a shock as powerful as a hammer blow.

He jumped back down and returned to the bed, where the black cat was still regarding him with that slight hint of a grin. Sean sat, curling his tail neatly around his paws.

She meowed, and of course he understood her.

"Happy Halloween."