Carnival of Night

She began to strip him, desperate for the touch of his skin. Her shaking fingers lifted his linen shirt, reaching beneath to explore his taut muscled stomach. They explored each other's bodies; each as bold as the other. She massaged his cock through his trousers, inviting his hands to roam freely over her own body. Slowly, she slipped from his arms and settled on her knees, her fingers working on the buttons of his breeches. She had pleasured her husband numerous times over the years but always out of a sense of duty. But now, as the musician's sex was revealed to her, dark and long and heavy, now she took it into her mouth out of a desire to taste it, to taste everything this man would give her. She washed the head of his cock with her tongue, savouring the musky flavour of earth, sweat and salt. He was warm in her mouth. She rolled her tongue over his cockhead.

He sank to his knees next to her, stripping off the rest of his clothing, his boots. Naked, they embraced, and Marie allowed herself to sink backwards onto the straw and earth. It occurred to her how dirty she was going to get, and she almost laughed at her own foolishness: as if that mattered anymore. He began exploring her with his mouth and hands. He was rough, as if needing to reassure himself of her reality. His broad hands squeezed the flesh of her breasts, her hips, the pale flesh turning red beneath his touch.

His hands pushed against the inside of her thighs, prying her legs. She felt his breath, warm and panting, against the lips of her sex.

And then he began to eat her alive. That was how it felt: a devouring. His tongue penetrated her, diving deep inside her. She cried out, her fingers taking hold of his dark thick hair, pulling him hard against her. Her husband had never shown any desire to do this to her and she had never asked, had never known to ask. How could she have denied herself this pleasure, she thought as his rough tongue raked across the pearl of her clitoris. The scrape of his stubbled face against the sodden lips of her sex. She felt the climax coming, cried out to receive it, but then she felt his mouth leave her body. She groaned in disappointment.

He raised himself on his hands and began to crawl up her body, continuing to taste her skin as he did so. He kissed her deep and full on the mouth. She tasted herself as his tongue demanded entrance. She cried out into his mouth with the pure animalistic passion of it.

He pushed her legs apart and she trembled as he pressed down upon her naked body. She was already shaking with anticipation when she felt the hard rounded head of his penis pressing against the molten lips of her sex. She opened her legs wider and bent her knees, making herself ready.

He entered her quickly, pressing in with one long thrust, spreading her sex with his thickness. She was wet and ready for him. She cried out, a cry that descended into a moan as she wrapped her legs around his flanks to pull him in deeper inside. Her arms reached around to his back, stroking as she rolled her hips, pressing back into him, meeting his hunger with her own. He lifted his body from hers, settling his weight on his knees. She felt his hands grasp her hips as he thrust into her, his silvery gaze raking over her naked flesh as she bent her body like a bow, presenting herself to him. She felt the sharp press of his nails sink into the skin of her hips, holding her firm. When he took her nipple between his teeth she cried out, gasping for breath.

She looked up, seeing the clouded night sky above them and, in her ecstasy, it felt for a moment that she was not looking up, but rather down on the clouds from above. She lifted her legs further, locking them together behind his back at the ankles. His mouth was on her neck and she felt the hard press of his teeth as he took her.

High above, the clouds parted, and the moon shone through with a brightness that seemed unnatural, bathing their naked bodies in a radiant glow.

It was then that things began to change.

She felt it happening, felt the grinding movement of muscles and bone beneath her fingers as she clung on to his back. She felt his body change, stretch, and press up into her hands as he grew. His face was still buried in her shoulder and she heard him cry out in what seemed like pain. She looked down, over his shoulder, and saw dark hair rise up across his bare skin and between her fingers. His shoulder blades bulged, rounding like hills, and she felt his nails, now cruelly sharp, pressing into her own shoulders.

And yet he continued to fuck her, and she continued to let him.

As his body changed in her hands, she clung onto him tight. He began to shake, his thrusts becoming harder, hungrier, deeper. His entire body was covered with hair now and it felt rough against her skin. Course fur rubbed against her breasts and nipples, sending ripples of pain and pleasure coursing through her veins. She felt fear, but no surprise. On some level she would never have acknowledged, she had known all along. The fear was more to do with her own reactions to what was happening, her own hunger for it.

He threw his head back, his face contorted in pain and anger. And there was very little that was human about it. She curled her hand around his neck, pulling him close again. His mouth found the angle between her shoulder and neck and, when his sharp teeth broke through the surface, she finally came, a wild release of ecstasy that drove out the rational world and left her spinning, weightless in a storm.

She pressed her lips against his shoulder, her mouth filling with long course hair. Her teeth were not nearly as long and sharp as his; it took a lot more effort to break through. As his blood, spiced and salty, spilled out over her tongue, she felt his release inside of her. He threw his head back then, his long sharp teeth bared to the moon above, and howled.

The sound rolled out into the night. Inside the sealed tent, where the finale had reached its predictably bloody climax some time ago, the sound was enough to make the performers pause briefly in their feast.

In the caravan, the sound made Victor raise his head from Beverley's throat, his lips now red and gleaming, the only colour on his face. He smiles softly as he recognised the sound and understood its meaning. Ilona met his gaze although she did not lift her mouth from the young woman's thigh. For a moment, Victor remained still, his head cocked, listening for any more sounds on the night wind. It was only when Beverley reached up to cup his face with a hand as pale as his face, that he forgot about the howl, turning his attention to more immediate and pleasurable matters.

The sound rolled out over the village, where those lucky enough not to have attended the show slept on oblivious. Alice alone heard it in her sleep. It was a sound she would hear often in her dreams over the coming years as she lived out her life in the village, waiting for the circus to return.

Four

The company was packed and ready to leave before dawn. They had grown used to making a swift exit after performances. In only a matter of hours the tent was down, and the carts and the caravans were ready to move.

Emil made a final tour of the site, to ensure that everything had either been stowed away or at least buried in the woods. He was surprised to learn the young woman in the caravan was going to come with them. Clearly either Victor or Ilona had taken a liking to her.

He had deliberately left the wolf cage until last, unsure of what he would find there. He stood for a long moment, watching the two sleeping forms, curled up together on the straw. She opened her eyes, sensing his presence, but she made no sound. She slept.

The circus moved on. Emil did not call a halt until the evening of the following day. He usually liked to get as many miles as he could between himself and any aggrieved relatives. He climbed down from his own perch, wincing as he painfully stretched his legs. He had been thinking all day about something the woman had said, something he could not deny.

He made his way back along the line to the wolf cage. It was covered with a heavy tarpaulin and he could see nothing of the interior. He jangled his keychain in his hand, pondering. Around him the air darkened as evening gave way to night. They still had over ten miles to go before they reached a suitable camping site; he really couldn't afford any more delay.

Taking a breath, he selected an iron key from his chain. The padlock was stiff, but it finally turned, allowing him to swing open the cage door. He stood there, his back turned to the cage. Let it be their decision.

There was a rustling of movement from inside the covered cage. From the corner of his eye, he saw two black shapes slowly emerge, their dark bodies low to the ground. They hesitated for a moment, sniffing the air, but then, together, padded from the road. He watched the shadows as they moved past the tree line to lose themselves in the forest.

He locked the cage and resumed his seat at the head of the line. He was fairly sure he had done the right thing. She had been right, it is a shame to leave things caged that should be free, as dangerous as that sometimes can be. The circus moved on and was quickly lost from view. The sounds of wagon wheels faded into silence. The wind sang though the nearby trees before silencing, as if the night was taking a breath.

The howl rose up into the night sky to be answered by another close by. It was the sound of wildness released back into the world.