A Naughty Moon

The sheriff and his deputy stepped out. The deputy trained the high powered rifle on the three distraught men while the sheriff pointed his revolver at Trevor's head. "You first, hands behind your back," he demanded, getting ready to slap the cuffs on.

"Leave them alone, sheriff, it's me you want. I'm the guilty one."

"Who are you?" the sheriff asked, clearly bewildered.

"Name's Gordon. I live on the ranch. I witnessed the fight that day and came to help Trevor and Ashton. When I saw the man crawling to the truck. I figured he was going for a gun. We struggled and I was slipping. I hit his head on the roof to stop him from overpowering me. I didn't mean to kill him."

The sheriff paused for a moment, stunned he had an actual confession. He had assumed that Trevor and Ashton would have denied it and that the case would have gone to trial.

"I understand you might have thought you were protecting your friends, but the D.A. has told me that the charge will be manslaughter. That's possibly ten years. You have the right to remain silent and not say anything. If you do say anything it will be used against you in a court of law."

"I told you I'm guilty," Gordon declared. "Bring me back to the station. I'm ready to sign a confession and answer any questions you may have. I'm also ready to go to prison if that's what I have to do."

Sheriff Tilford breathed a sigh of relief. He had assumed the case would have gone to court as a possible self-defense case, and caused his department untold financial burdens trying to further investigate and help prosecutors prepare for the case. He had also been convinced that Trevor and Ashton would try to flee, necessitating further bloodshed. As it stood now, a peaceful resolution was at hand, and a conviction virtually guaranteed with a confession.

Gordon held out his hands, waiting for the cuffs to go on. The sheriff obliged him, clicking the metal rings shut around both wrists.

"Well, I guess that gets you two off the hook," he said, staring at Trevor and Ashton. "Just don't go to far. I'll need you to come into the station for an hour or two tomorrow and give your statements."

"We didn't see the fatal blow struck," Trevor said. "Ashton and I were beat up pretty bad as well"

"With five against two I can well imagine. But I'll still need your statements. If you didn't see Gordon enter the picture then just say so. With Gordon here confessing it doesn't really matter much anyhow, does it? Your statements are mere formalities."

"We'll come in tomorrow and give our statements," Trevor promised.

"That's all I ask," the sheriff said, leading a cuffed Gordon into the chopper.

***

The sounds of night were slowly gathering. A lone coyote howled in the distance, signaling to others of his kind that he was ready to either hunt or mate. An owl added its customary 'hoooo' and the chirping of crickets heralded the unveiling of the night's brightening circular orb.

"We'll be changing again soon," Ashton whispered.

"Mere minutes left to go," Trevor confirmed.

"What will happen when Gordon changes in his jail cell?"

"Don't you remember me telling you that Gordon and Jarred had rare blood types that allowed them to fight off the change if they wanted to?"

"And the rest of the pack?"

"Nope. We all have to change. It's only Jarred and Gordon that have that option."

"Even if Gordon will be safe in jail. Ten years is a long time."

"Not for a werewolf it's not. You're forgetting that we live much longer than humans. Three to four hundred years longer. We age extremely slowly. Ten years in jail is a mere drop in the bucket for him, especially when you think of what he's getting in return, a chance to be a pack hero. Also, he'll forever be able to boast that he saved the pack from extinction. They'll probably make him leader when he gets out."

"He'll certainly get my vote," Ashton said.

"Mine as well," Trevor seconded.

"Gordon turned out to be a good fellow after all."

"You certainly know how to bring out the best in people, not to mention the best

in werewolves."

The final shadows of darkening haze turned jet black, contrasting with a full circle of bright white, that sent rays of magical power hurtling toward the earth below.

Both men felt the joy of transformation sweep over their bodies. Magnificent waves of shiny fur crawled across sweat soaked skin.

Cocks jostled to find expanding bum cheeks as hands, turning to paws, roamed freely over each other's bodies.

Their howls were explicit in signaling unbridled bliss, as passion took control.

Waves of orgasmic paradise held them both entranced as the night wore on, making them fulfilled as the naughty moon grew much, much naughtier.