Call Of The Wild

Disclaimers: As usual, I still must tell you readers that this is fiction. If you think some of the names have some semblance of truth in them, you're mistaken. I might not decide which category this will land in, until it is finished.

THANKS: To Blackrandi1958 for inviting me to her prestigious event. I hope my story doesn't disappoint.

MORE THANKS: To my wife, who without her encouragement, I'd never be doing these stories. Also, for allowing me to portray people that we just might know.

WARNINGS: Please be forewarned that there just might be some weird shit in my story. Really weird. If couplings between us humans and people who just might not be human are not your cup of tea, click out of this story and read elsewhere.

The title of my little story refers to the classic book, written by Jack London, in 1903.

Not only am I working a completely different story angle, this one will tell a tale of shape shifters, who just might be werewolves, and the relationship they might have with the heroine of my story.

Onto my story.

This story takes many twists and turns, the same as my entire life has. I was married to my college sweetheart, until I wasn't. Did he leave me for a younger woman? Nope. This man, who I'd known since my freshman year in High School, and been dating since my junior year in college, left me for another MAN!

After twelve years of marriage, and two of the sweetest daughters in the world, this piece of shit left me for another fucking man.

How could I have not known?

I was, and still am so pissed off, I'm not going to let that area of my life be this story.

Before I get too much farther, I think I should introduce myself. I'm Darlene Harrison, now a fifty-two year old, clinical social worker.

My daughters, Eva and Ann, now twenty-five and twenty-four, respectively, both married, each with one child, are the people who have made my life worth living. Their husbands, Barry and Tom have both also been shining beacons in my life.

My story will encompass a period of about ten months, that has just ended, with me on the verge of considering marraige, again.

All through my formative years, my mother, Dorothy, and grandmother, Rose, always told me many of their weird, old world superstitions. These included things like some of the surrounding area near where I grew up had creatures of the night living in them. My dad, Bernie, always rolled his eyes in disbelief, hearing this dribble.

Hearing these stories never caused me to rethink walking in these woods.

I figured as a well educated woman, with both a Bachelors and a Masters degree, I was above believing in urban myths.

All through school, I always relished the fact that I was a better athlete than some of the boys. This fact led me to believe that's why very few of my male classmates wanted to date me.

To be sure, my 36C bra got them interested, but my fairly strict mother made sure to lecture me on what most boys wanted. There was one boy, Greg Klein, who always seemed to like talking with me.

After knowing him for years, it took until our junior year in college to start dating, seriously.

As previously mentioned, after twelve years of marraige, and two perfect daughters, he showed his true colors, and left me for his fucking boyfriend.

Enough of that shit. I've got some story to tell.

Even with me really enjoying my work, teaching an Adult Life Skills class, that I put together, by myself, both to court ordered misdemeanor offenders, and victims of domestic violence, my main source of enjoyment came from my two grandchildren.

Eva and Barry had a son, Charles, just ready to turn two, and Ann and Tom had a daughter, Melinda, just a month younger.

Many weekends, I'd have them both staying at my condo, giving their parents some well deserved quiet time.

Nearby my condo, there was a very nice park, with lots of playground equipment for kids of all ages. There also was a very large, young man who was sort of a monitor. He made sure older kids didn't bully the smaller ones, and he also kept the park spotless.

Let me try to describe this young man. Miles Dalton stood a good 6'4" or more, and without an ounce of fat on his body, must have weighed a good 235, or more. He had a head of flowing dark brown hair, and muscles everywhere.

I must have stared at him once too often, because one bright Saturday morning, he quietly asked me if I was afraid of him, this in his baritone voice reminding me of Clint Walker, a cowboy actor from the 50's and 60's, with the same sort of deep, vocal tones.

"No, Miles," I stammered, "it's just, oh, shit, um, I just want you to know how much I appreciate how well you watch over my grandchildren."

"Thank you, Miss Darlene, but I do enjoy my job, working for the Parks Department."

I just smiled back, hoping he didn't notice me staring at the bulge in the shorts he was wearing.

"Miss Darlene, can I ask why your sons-in-law call you Deb?"

"I'm Jewish, and my Hebrew name is Deborah. De bor ah. Since my grandchildren had trouble saying Darlene, we settled on Deb. Understand?"

"Yes, and that I know of, you're the first Jewish person I've ever met."

As he turned to walk away, I just couldn't get the vision of his huge bulge out of my head. Shit, he's younger than my kids, I tried convincing myself.

I also had to admit I was more than tired of my battery operated toys, that were my main source of pleasure. Yes, I did date, some, after my divorce, but very few ever had the pleasure of joining me in bed.

The following Saturday, there was an incident at the playground that shocked me to my core.

Some older boys were teasing some of the younger ones, when Miles asked them to stop. When one of the older boys, about fourteen years old, told him to butt out, I could see by the look in Miles' eyes, he was really pissed.

As he walked over to this boy, I could see his eyes seemed to darken. He took the younger boy by his shirt, lifted him off the ground, like he weighed nothing, and yelled at him to leave the little ones alone.

He set this kid down, and just stared at him, causing the troublemaker to take off running.

I walked up to Miles, putting my hands on each shoulder, and asked him quietly to calm down.

He put his head on my shoulder, and I could feel him softly crying.

"I'm sorry, Miss Darlene, but that's how I react, please forgive me."

Not knowing what to do, I took his face in my hands, and softly kissed his tender lips.

"Oh! Miss Darlene."

"Am I out of line?"

"No, I don't think so, but I've never done that before."

"You've never kissed a girl before?"

He just shook his head, his face red as a beet.

I took his face again, and softly kissed his lips, again. This time, when we finished, I was smiling, and his face wasn't quite as red.

Out of nowhere we both heard shouting, that caused us to look from where that boy had run. We saw two men, both fairly large, and each carrying what looked like baseball bats.

"Miss Darlene, you'd better move back, the farther, the better."

I could see his brown eyes getting even darker, as he turned around just as both men stared to raise their bats.

Miles literally sprang at both of them, at the same time, making sounds that I had never heard before. With a huge swipe of both arms, he knocked both bats away from them. He picked each man up, one at a time, and tossed them backwards, as if they were rag dolls.

Both of them scrambled to their feet and charged again. This time, Miles swung his huge fists, striking each square in the jaw.

I saw teeth and blood shooting from each mouth, as both men dropped like rocks.

After a few seconds, they got back on their feet and ran back up the path, wobbling, like two drunks.

I moved next to Miles, putting my hand on his lower back.

"Please let me rest, Miss Darlene, I don't want you to see me this way."

His voice sounded like some sort of audio machine, like those used in Sci-fi movies.

I moved back, as he sat, facing away from me. I think I was shaking even more than he was.

I left him alone for nearly a half hour, watching him, as his breathing returned to normal. I was fortunate to have my daughters pick up the two little ones, leaving me to try to comfort this troubled, young man.

When he finally calmed down, enough to turn and face me, my eyes were rivited on the huge bulge in the shorts he was wearing.

Silently, I moved next to him, putting my arms around his waist, feeling his breathing slow to a normal pace.

Without thinking, one of my hands lowered to his crotch, feeling what I knew to be the biggest cock I'd ever seen, or touched.

Let me interject, here, that one of my battery-powered boyfriends measured six inches, and when turned on, extended nearly two more inches.

Without asking permission, I took my hands and started lowering the shorts he had on. His boxer briefs barely contained his still growing cock. When I started lowering his undies, I felt his body shudder, more than once.

Once fully uncovered, I thought my eyes were going to fall out of my head. He had to be over nine inches long, and thicker than anything I'd ever seen. I'd also never seen an uncut cock.

Cautiously, he placed one of his huge hands on one of my bra covered breasts.

"Shall I undress, Miles?"

He just nodded his ascent.

At first, I was hesitant, knowing my once C cup boobs now more than filled my DD cup bra. Along with their much larger size, they had more than a little sag.

What the Hell, I thought, and dropped my bra. He just stood there, staring at my boobs, with his cock pointing to the sky.

"Would you like me to show you how to make love to a woman?"

Again, just a nod, as he approached, slowly.

Moving back under several shade trees, where I had my blanket, we laid down, with me kissing him, a bit more aggressively. He caught on very fast, as his hands found my very sensitive, large nipples.

I moved one hand down to his massive organ, and slid his foreskin down, showing his absolutely bulbous head. I leaned down, just to see if my mouth could take it in.

Yes, it could, as I very slowly took about two or three inches in, and started to slowly bob up and down. While doing that, I cupped his balls, gently massaging them, while he started this low moan, almost like a growl.

While my head was bobbing up and down, barely taking in half of his massive manhood, his hips started thrusting back and forth.

I rolled him on his back, so I could mount him, controlling his cock, until I could get used to his size and girth.

Of my fucking goodness, lowering onto his rock hard cock, I knew I'd never had anything that big inside of me. Never.

Slowing I started moving up and down when he started thrusting upwards at a very frenetic pace. I let him continue, at his pace, while I leaned down on his very muscled chest.

I felt like I was being split in two.

Without warning, I felt every muscle in his body tense up, as he exploded deep inside of me. My God, it felt as if a fire hose had been turned on, full blast.

I stayed laying on his chest, when I realized he was still fairly hard, inside of me.

In one smooth motion, he rolled me onto my back, and started pumping, in and out like a pile driver.

"Slower, Miles, slower," I breathed, holding onto his shoulders for dear life.

As his pace slowed, he began licking all over my nipples. One at a time. The tenderness he showed had me shaking so much, that if he weren't so much larger than me, I might have tossed him off me.

After nearly twenty more minutes, and so many orgasms, that I lost count, he exploded, again, filling me to overflowing.

Rolling off me, and onto his side, he propped his head on his hand, staring at me with a look I can only describe as pure lust.

"Oh, my God, Miles, I can't believe what we just did."

"Do I take it, you liked what we just did?"

"More than you'll ever know, my dear man."

"Do you think we might have made a baby?"

"Oh, no, Miles, I'm way beyond the age of having babies."

I just didn't think I needed to tell him about my total hysterectomy, I'd had over ten years previously.

The following weekend, when I took my grandchildren to the park, Miles was nowhere to be seen.

There were two other young adults there, so I asked them where Miles was.

"Not sure, but he takes a weekend almost every month, so we fill in," was their response.

Thinking nothing about that statement, I took my grandkids back home.

Sitting on my patio, sipping a glass of white wine, after dinner, I was staring at nothing in particular, when I noticed the most gorgeous full moon.

Now my mind started recalling all those Old Wives Tales, from my childhood. I quickly tossed those ideas aside. My new friend, Miles, couldn't be a werewolf, could he?

And calling him my new friend was a bit over simplified, wasn't it? In truth, I was actually thinking he was becoming my fuck buddy. Yes, he was thirty plus years younger than me. Yes, he wasn't your normal, run of the mill teenager. But, lord help me, he had the biggest, fattest cock I'd ever seen. I quickly realized what I was using to guide my actions.

Instead of using what was between my ears, I was using what was between my thighs.

After my shitty marriage, and a few not so satisfying relationships, I thought it was my time to consider me first.

To be perfectly honest, he rivaled the best I'd seen on the few porn sites, I'd visited.

I let this drop, as the next two weekends, I was busy babysitting at my daughter's house.

When I went back for following weekend, my grandchildren weren't with me, but I spent well over two hours fucking and sucking with Miles, also teaching him the finer points of licking my pussy.

The first time I convinced him to use his tongue in between my legs, he was hesitant, at first, but once he started, I think I created a monster.

Now I don't claim to be an expert, but this young man had a tongue that rivaled Gene Simmons, the front man of KISS.

Look up most any KISS performance, and take note of Gene Simmons' tongue.

His tongue found areas deep inside of my pussy, that had never been touched by anything other than male organs. OK, some of those areas had been touched by a toy, or two.

I started noticing that the times that Miles wasn't there did coincide with a full moon. I tried convincing myself that werewolves just didn't exist.

Over the next few months, i began to really treasure the afternoons and early evenings I spent with my much younger lover.

He was both tender and forceful, at the same time. He was like a sponge, soaking up as much sexual experience I could impart.

One very nice Sunday afternoon, after a fantastic few hours of romance, he got a very serious look on his face.

"I hope you know, Miss Darlene how much I love our encounters, but I feel I must tell you a few things."

"Go ahead," I said, already worrying about this conversation I'd been dreading since we first met.

"This might be hard for you to understand, but you need to know everything about me. I'm not 100% human. My father was a werewolf, and I've inherited that part of him."

"I'm listening, but this is something I've been dreading."

"I want you to know that each time I 'change' I have a larger chance of not coming back to normal. Whatever normal is."

Hearing these words, that I'd been thinking about for the past few months, I felt a tear, or two rolling down my cheeks.

"Oh, please don't cry for me, Miss Darlene, I'm perfectly OK with what my fate will be. Also know that I will never forget you."

With that, I just hugged him tightly, and turned to leave.

Getting back to my condo, I felt a little down, just starting to relish my love making sessions with Miles.

I reasoned that if he didn't return back to a full human, I couldn't be with him in his other life.

I spent the next several weeks just enjoying my family.

Both of my daughters noticed I was a bit down, and asked if it had anything to do with Miles disappearing from our park.

"I'll leave it to your imagination, both of you Nosey Nancys."

One day shopping at my local grocery store, I saw a man who I hadn't seen in about a thousand years. This was a guy who I dated a few times in high school, but soon after, he joined the Air Force.

I lost track of him, because by the time he got out of the military, I was getting married to my shithead.

We just stood staring at each other.

"Darlene Harrison?"

"Jeffrey Mitchell?"

Both of us nodding back to each other, we did move closer to each other, falling into an embrace.

It just felt right, hugging the very nice man, who I should have waited for. But hindsight is always 20/20.

I knew his wife, Marnie, had died of cancer over fifteen years previously, and he had two children, and one new grandson.

As we talked, he told me he had just moved in a block or two away from me.

I told him about having my grandkids the next Saturday, and we made it a date to meet at the park.

Meeting his four month old, my two just couldn't get over oohing and aahing at him.

Jeff and I were talking while we were watching the kids, when down one trail came four very nasty looking young men.

When Jeff noticed them, he told me to move behind him and the picnic table, as he drew a hand gun from under his coat. I did remember reading that he was some bigshot in the County Sheriff's department, but I was still shocked to see him armed.

Just as these four were moving around us, I heard some very bone chilling growls, and saw the nearby bushes rustling, as if someone was there.

Like two bolts of lightning, we saw two dark gray, snarling wolves leap out of the bushes, each attacking two of our assailants. I knew, instantly, one of them was Miles, and the other I assumed was his mate.

With a fury reserved for Science Fiction movies, the pair of our wolf protectors bit, clawed and otherwise disabled all four of our attackers, in no time flat.

When all four were zip tied, by Jeff, I noticed he still had his gun drawn.

"Jeff, no! He's my friend," I screamed.

Just then, Miles the wolf walked over to me, licked the back of my hand, and rose up on his hind legs, laying his face on my shoulder, whispering, so nobody else could hear.

"I hope you've found happiness, Miss Darlene."

I looked over at Jeff, who finally holstered his gun.

Seeing to our little ones, making sure they were safe, Miles wolf walked over to Jeff and licked the back of his hand, too.

The other wolf, a female, came over to us, too, and out of the bushes tumbled two little adorable wolf cubs, bouncing all over the place.

Just as I was kneeling down to play with them, we heard the approaching sirens, so I whispered that they should go back into their woods.

After the police took our statements, trying not to accuse us of being high, or drunk, they gathered up these four, and after securing them in their patrol cars, came back and asked again, if we were standing by our statements.

When Jeff, who outranked them all, by a mile, told them that was exactly what happened, they were off.

"I can't thank you enough, Jeff, for not telling them about Miles talking to me."

"Was that big wolf, Miles Dalton? I remember about ten or twelve years ago, a couple were murdered in the foothills, not too far from here, by two guys claiming the couple were werewolves. When the two dead wolves were found, all forensics proved they were not human."

I realized that while Jeff was telling me this news, I had my head on his shoulder.

I moved back, apologizing, when he told me to think nothing of it, and how good it felt.

In the back of my mind, I told myself I chose wrong all those years ago, and I wouldn't make the same mistake twice.