Lycanthrope Ch. 01

And God, how she longed to satisfy those needs.

"I don't know what's wrong with me," she said to Eve, "Maybe I'm just going crazy."

"What do you mean?"

"I just-" she sighed, hesitating to continue.

"Come on," Eve nudged her, the younger woman grinning from ear to ear, "Come on, tell your toadie what's going on..."

"I just think my body is crazy," she admitted, her voice lowered almost to a whisper, "I mean, lately all my dreams involve sex..."

"The best dreams always do," Eve commented.

"Sometimes after I go shopping," Catalina couldn't believe she was confessing all this to her assistant, but kept talking anyway, "I have to change my panties because I've gotten so horny looking at the cashiers or the football players out at the high school on my way home."

"Well that's natural, Doctor Hughes," she laughed, "Don't you know that's called 'animal instinct'? As a vet, you should know all about that."

Catalina gasped and looked down, a sudden pressure on her left leg. Buster was clamped on her thigh, his tongue lolling out as he humped her vigorously. She shouted, "Buster!"

Eve laughed as Catalina ushered the dog away, "See? Even Buster has animal instinct."

"And I'll bet he gets laid more than I do," Catalina added.

"That's a crime," Eve shook her head and pulled Buster back, kneeling down and scratching behind the dog's ears, "Seriously, you should go and just have some fun."

"Maybe," she shrugged and glanced at the clock above the window looking out into the back of the property, "We better get Buster back to his owner."

"Travis Goldsmith," Eve said, "He's a real cutie. You'd like him."

"Eve," she sighed.

"I dated him in high school," she pressed on, "He's just what you need..."

"Stop it," she laughed as she opened the exam room door.

"Animal instinct," Eve reminded her as they clipped the small, silver leash chain to Buster's collar.

"Okay," Catalina waved her off.

"Doggy style," Eve whispered.

"Knock it off," she stepped into the hall, trying to hold back a laugh.

"Go get some..."

Catalina ignored her, a smile surfacing across her lips as Buster eagerly plowed ahead, pulling the leash tight against her grip.

***

Travis Goldsmith was twenty years old and home from Southern Oregon University, his freshman year nearing it's conclusion. Though he had the appearance of a dedicated quarterback at 5' 11" and weighing in at 235 pounds, Travis was actually an education major. He hoped to someday teach history, his favorite subject. Though he might not have looked it, his brains were more than a complimentary match for his brawn.

He wasn't an Adonis by any means, lacking a lot of the muscle definition so popular with today's "attractive" male. Yet, he was muscled in a more subtle sense, carrying enough extra weight to give him a stocky sex appeal. His eyes were brown and soulful, framed by a kind yet rugged face that suggested he might have been just as at home chopping wood behind an isolated cabin in the woods as he would have been in front of a classroom full of kids. His look was capped off by dark blonde hair, a shade that grew more and more dark with each passing year.

He sat in the waiting room of the Breystaff Animal Hospital, his Michigan Wolverines baseball cap in one hand as the fingers on the other hand drummed nervously over the magazine rack. He looked out the large bay windows of the waiting lounge. Snow was spinning lightly in the air outside, mixing with rain and sleet. It had been a half hour since Eve had taken Buster back to the examination room. Buster had been his dog since his freshman year in high school, and when the dog taken ill two days ago Travis had nearly been nearly worried sick himself.

The double doors behind the front desk opened and Buster trotted out into the waiting room, his coat shiny and his tongue lolling out wildly.

"Buster," he smiled and knelt down to pet the dog, "How you doing?"

"He's going to be fine," Catalina handed the leash to him, "He has a mild case of what equates to the doggy flu."

"Is that all?" Travis stood up and faced her.

"We gave him a vaccination shot against it," she motioned to his right hindquarter, "So he might be sore for a few days, but otherwise he'll be fine. Just make sure he gets plenty of liquids."

"Thank you, Dr. Hughes," Travis held out his large hand to her. Catalina was surprised at how his grip was so gentle and yet so firm. Her slender hand almost disappeared in his shake, and once again she found herself feeling horny and needy. She looked him over as he turned to grab his jacket, admiring his sturdy, powerful frame and the large pectoral muscles behind his t-shirt. The boy was a moose that much was for certain. But my God, what a sexy moose. She averted her eyes as he turned back to face her. He smiled, her hand still latched on to his.

Catalina was seized with overwhelming urge to not let go of him and to guide his hand to her breast. She wanted him to fondle her, to take her clothes off and feel her tits with those rough palmed hands. In a matter of a few seconds, she entertained an entire sexual scenario with Travis, everything from the first attentive kiss to the grand finale of an earth shattering orgasm as she rode atop his young body.

"Dr. Hughes?" Travis smiled, his deep voice awkwardly shy.

"Yes?" she replied, jolted from her fantasy. She would not have been surprised at all to find her glasses steaming up as she held onto his hand.

"My hand?" he asked.

"Oh," she laughed and released him, pushing her glasses up her nose and recoiling back sheepishly, "I'm sorry."

"It's okay," he reassured her, though his eyes were both curious and uncertain of her.

"Spaced off there for minute," she said, cursing herself for such a moronic slip in professionalism. She hadn't had a slip like that in how many years now? Catalina composed herself and stepped back to the receptionist's desk.

"I hope I didn't keep you here past your normal hours," Travis slipped his black leather jacket on, a true compliment to his loose fitting jeans and white shirt. Catalina could not deny he looked damned good in the jacket.

"No no," she waved him off, "Anything for a dog in need."

Travis put his cap on and stepped outside into the snow, "Well then. Have a good evening."

"You too," she smiled and waved. Once the door had closed, she walked over and engaged the dead bolt, flipping the switch for the neon "OPEN" sign outside off. Catalina sighed and chastised herself as she leaned against the door.

"Very smooth," came the amused voice of Eve from behind her, "Nice."

Catalina turned around, still propped against the door, "Was it that bad?"

"No," Eve shook her head, unable to hide her smile, "Well, let me put it this way. When he and I went to school together, I made a drunken pass at him one time after homecoming in which I took off my shirt and asked him to play with my tits right before I threw up six hot dogs and a beer on him. So, by comparison, very smooth, Doc."

"Oh God," Catalina groaned.

"You going to his parent's party tonight?"

The doctor sighed. Paul and Mary Jo Goldsmith were the town's most upstanding business people. They owned the supermarket out in the north end of town, a staple in many of the locals' monthly expenditures (despite the obvious price gouging). Every winter, they held a small get together of fellow entrepreneurs and other movers and shakers (if there truly was such a thing in a small city such as Breystaff) for some good natured ass kissing. To most of the common folk in town, it was a hideous practice of self-indulgence and another example of self-proclaimed "local royalty." As Catalina was a respected and rather wealthy doctor, she had an automatic invite.

"Do I have to?" she asked.

"Yes," Eve told her, "And further more, you should try and take someone home from the party."

"That's all I need," Catalina rolled her eyes, "Gossip."

"Be discreet."

"No such thing in small towns."

"There's always a first time..."

"I shouldn't."

"If you won't do it for you, do it for me," Eve begged.

"What?"

"You owe it to women everywhere to reassert your sexual standing, Doc!"

"No."

"Do it or I'll whine until you agree..."

"I can fire you."

"Please please please..."

Catalina threw her hands up, "Okay, okay. I'll go. But I can't promise anything."

"Maybe Travis can promise you something?"

"Eve," she laughed, "He's in college. He's twenty years old."

"Your point?"

Catalina opened her mouth to respond, but found no argument forthcoming. As she thought of his attractive body and that sexy smile, she realized she had no point.

"I'll go," Catalina said.

"Good," Eve nodded and slapped the counter top, "That's my girl."

"I'll go," she said again.

***

Mary Carson waited by the window in her living room as night began to claim the dusky sky. Snow had been falling steadily since four and by the words of the weatherman on Channel 10, it would turn to a blizzard before morning. David and Michael should have been home by now. She crossed her arms over her breasts, rubbing the material of her thick, warm sweater closer to her body. She shivered anyway. There was something wrong and she knew it.

She sat on the couch for another fifteen minutes, giving them the benefit of the doubt. Her impulse to call the police was strong and powerful, but she also didn't need a lecture about patience from David when he got home. She told herself that he would be coming home any moment. She would see the red Dodge Ram pulling up to the house within minutes, and out of it would come her husband and her son. There would be a large load of wood in the back of the truck and a triumphant smile on David's face.

A half hour later, when none of that came to pass, she picked up the phone and called the police. Lectures be damned, she was scared to death.

"Hello?" she said into the phone, "Yes, I have an emergency."

***

Catalina walked through the crowd of people, smiling and showing off her new black party dress. She was scared to death, though her expression was anything but. Eve's advice to take someone home sounded good in theory, but in practice it was an entirely different animal. She knew practically everyone here. The thought of taking home someone she knew from this group of people didn't exactly appeal to her. She hungered for younger, sweeter meat. She wanted someone who could keep up with her, who could satisfy her wants and desires.

Someone like Travis Goldsmith.

"Cat," Paul Goldsmith touched her shoulder. She turned to face the grocer and de facto community leader of Breystaff. He looked a lot like his son, the same handsome every man looks but with a little less hair and little less weight. In fact, Paul looked to be the skinny version of his son weighing in at a total of 120 pounds soaking wet. He was dressed in one of his impeccably nice suits, a neutral number that complimented his dark looks.

"Paul," she shook his hand, "How are you tonight?"

"I'm doing well," he smiled and guided her through the crowd, "And you?"

"Busy as always," Catalina replied, sipping her wine glass, "We've got people coming in from three counties now."

"Must be very profitable," he commented, the Goldsmith equivalent of a subtle hint regarding her yearly gross.

Catalina nodded, not giving him an inch, "Very profitable."

"I'm sure it is," he smiled, still hinting.

"I love what you've done with the place," Catalina smiled, changing the subject. The five-bedroom house occupied by the Goldsmith family was luxurious and spacious, the sitting room more of a banquet room than anything else. Dozens of guests mingled and created a pompous ambience that Catalina found both oddly humorous and embarrassingly stifling. But she couldn't deny the warm appeal of the soft lighting and the tasteful décor.

"Mary Jo deserves all the credit," Paul wasted no time recovering from his disappointment. She knew he was dying to know how much she made, but Catalina was nothing if not privacy-minded. She asked, "How is Mary Jo?"

"Wonderful," he said, "Mingling somewhere and making her rounds. You know Mary Jo."

In point of fact, she had only met Mary Jo one time at a Christmas party. Other than that, she had only seen the busy body out and about as she drove through town, spreading the gossip and getting the latest scoop on local dirt. Catalina supposed that the higher a person went in life, the more aware they had to be of the dirt they stood on. Sometimes, Mary Jo Goldsmith acted as though the people in lower income brackets were just that and nothing more. Dirt.

She navigated the crowd of guests and smiled a series of polite greetings and fake pleasantries as Paul talked her ear off about Mary Jo and the wonderful job she had done in hiring the decorators who graced them with their magic. After fifteen minutes of his babbling, the idea of taking her eyeballs out and stuffing them in her ears so she wouldn't have to see or hear Paul Goldsmith anymore became something of an attractive option.

And then she saw him. Standing in the corner of the large room, looking uncomfortable and like he would have rather been anywhere else at that moment was Travis Goldsmith. He was smartly dressed and looking sexy hell. Catalina smiled to herself and interrupted Paul, saying, "Isn't that Travis?"

"Yes of course," Paul grinned and led her over to him.

"Dad," Travis smiled and then looked at Catalina, his eyes surprised.

"Travis, you remember Dr. Hughes," Paul said.

"Hello again, Doctor Hughes," Travis smiled as he stared into a pair of the most beautiful emerald eyes he had ever seen. He had tried not to be bluntly rude back at the animal hospital, but upon seeing her piercing green eyes again he couldn't help it. He said, "Good to see you again."

"Likewise," Catalina said and offered him her hand. She looked to Paul and said, "Travis brought his dog in today."

"Oh?" Paul looked at his son, "Everything is okay, yes?"

"Yeah, Dad," he rolled up the sleeves of his silky blue dress shirt, "Gave Buster a shot that did the trick."

Travis took her soft, warm hand in his. He felt a little flutter in his heart as he looked into the deep eyes of this sexy older woman. He had known her for years and yet never really noticed until now just how beautiful she was. Her eyes seemed to radiate and sparkle through the corrective lenses of her glasses.

A subtle hint of lavender perfume drifted past his nose as they shook hands again, this time Travis being the one who was "spacing out". His head spun slightly as he drank her in, trying his best to admire her shapely figure hidden behind the simple yet elegant black dress. A gold necklace was draped around her neck, hanging down to the modest amount of cleavage revealed by the classy dress. Hanging from this delicate chain was a small gold dolphin.

Travis was startled back to reality when he felt a tug and realized that he was still holding her hand. He laughed, "Sorry, doctor. My mind is a million miles away tonight."

"I can understand," Catalina nodded, remembering her own indiscretion during their previous handshake. The mental image of his hands on her naked breasts flickered across the backs of her eyeballs again, making her heart jump.

"Travis here is studying to be a history teacher," Paul said proudly, "He's managed all A's so far."

"That's impressive," Catalina said, "Most students have a difficult time adjusting to the rigors of college life."

"Well, not having a life helps tremendously," Travis smiled wryly. They shared a laugh over this, but Catalina couldn't believe that Travis was the kind of man to stay in the dorm rooms and study. Especially with so many eligible young women to flirt with.

From behind them, Mary Jo cleared her throat politely.

"Paul, the wine cellar door is jammed. Would you mind?" Mary Jo tapped her husband on the shoulder.

"Excuse me for a second," Paul nodded to Catalina, "I leave you in the very capable hands of our nations most promising historian."

Paul hurried away with his wife, leaving Travis and Catalina alone in the corner. There was an awkward silence between them as the party continued on at a steady keel, the overlapping concerns of the upper end of middle-America paramount to discussion. Travis leaned against the wall, his powerful arms folded across his chest and smiled. Catalina took a wine glass from a passing caterer and sipped it. She had a feeling she would need several more just like it before the night was through.

"Any particular period in history you're specializing in?" she finally asked.

"Actually, right now it's all pretty generalized world history. Everything from the seeds of creation to the current chaos in the middle east."

"That's a lot to cover," Catalina said, "Do the historians have a better idea of how this whole mess started, or are they just as clueless as the scientists?"

Travis tilted his head, "Well, they offer two schools of thought. Creationism vs. evolution, though I think that's an argument more suited to the philosophy department."

"Which do you subscribe to?" she asked, knowing damn good and well that one of the most deadly conversation killers was religion. It was almost as deadly as politics. But the words had already left her mouth and could not be recalled.

"Well," he looked at her thoughtfully, "I like to think of it as walking through a forest of untouched growth and suddenly finding a clearing with a perfectly built hundred-room mansion, complete with a solarium and garden area."

Catalina sipped her wine, listening intently.

"I mean did that mansion just evolve from the trees and metals in the soil? Or did someone build it? Either way, it's a mystery to the ants running around in the bushes near the foundation."

"Us being the ants?"

"If there was ever a better description," he smiled.

"Good point," she allowed. She was surprised to actually be enjoying her conversation with Travis. She had been taken with his unassuming good looks, but to find him so philosophical and intelligent made him even more attractive to her. She asked, "So what are you doing to keep yourself busy through winter break?"

"Actually, I'm doing odd jobs around town. I'm supposed to go out to the McKenzie farm tomorrow morning and clear some brush, provided the snow doesn't ruin everything. It's grunt work, but I need the cash," Travis said and took another drink of his water. He could feel his mouth drying up as his body responded to the fluid form of Dr. Catalina Hughes. He summoned all his strength in a desperate attempt not to look at the soft swells of Dr. Hughes's breasts poking out above the neckline of her dress. But he was almost hypnotized as they rippled with her subtle movements and shifting of weight from one leg to the other.

"I remember how much of a struggle money was for me in college," Catalina recalled. Travis looked up from her breasts and averted his eyes across the room, a furious blush rising in his cheeks.

"Tuition ain't cheap," he nodded.

"Well, you seem to have matters well in hand," she touched his arm with a beautiful smile. She graced him with a kind laugh that made her breasts shake even more.

"For the most part," Travis said, "I have a long way to go, yet."

"If you're looking for extra work," Catalina suggested. "There's a backyard full of overgrowth behind the clinic."

"Sounds like fun," he smiled.

"My assistant, Eve, won't have anything to do with manual labor. I can't fire her over it because she's too damn good at her job," Catalina joked, "But if you're interested, I could really use the help. I can pay you fifteen an hour, plus lunches?"

"You got a deal, doc," Travis agreed immediately. He knew deep down he wasn't just jumping at the exceptionally generous pay. He wanted to be around the doctor more than he probably should have.