My Amazing Lycanthropic Life Ch. 04

I'd just dropped Ellie off from our debauchery at Charlie's night club...

There was nothing I wanted more than to tumble into bed and sleep, but I knew that was not to be for me, and my insatiable craving for sex was rapidly growing again. I helped Ellie into bed and she literally went out like a light, snoring in the most unladylike fashion! I showered and cleaned myself thoroughly, applying plenty of body lotion. Using a shower cap, I'd managed to keep my hair and make-up in order so with just a quick freshen I was ready to see what else was lurking in the city. I already knew where I was going. It was a fetish night at a place called Diabolo's that had been created under the railway arches on an industrial estate and catered for all sorts of eclectic tastes.

I pulled out my favourite piece of clothing from my bottom drawer, although clothing is hardly what it actually does. It is a strappy leather affair that looks to all intents and purposes like a halter neck basque with all the panelling removed and just the outlines left as thin black lines. The leather is super soft and there are quite a few studs and silver buckles which are so cold they make me twinge as they touch my skin and I fasten them. There are also lots of fine silver chains dangling from the straps pretending to fill all the gaps but looking really cool.

I fix the collar round my neck and adjust it so that my breasts are lifted slightly and the chains rub against my nipples. I love that feeling! I fasten it around my chest and then my hips, tightening the straps that run between my legs and across my ass and belly. The chains form a sort of short skirt of no substance whatsoever, but flick against my cock, adding to my growing excitement. I attach some opaque black stockings and clips them to the suspenders before slipping into some knee high leather boots with a five inch stiletto heel. A pair of black lace opera gloves stretch along my arms to my elbows. Finally I put on a pair of large black pyramid earnings that also have tiny chains hanging from them.

As I look at myself in the mirror, checking the straps, I can feel myself hardening as I really do look like every guy's fantasy! I totter across to the wardrobe as I've never really got the hang of heels this high, and pull out my beige trench coat, slipping it over my shoulders and checking myself in the mirror again. It is just long enough to give nothing away about what is underneath, my earrings and boots being the only clue that what lies underneath is probably a little out of the ordinary.

I had given the taxi driver a fifty to wait for me so I couldn't take any longer than absolutely necessary. I grabbed my big tassel covered handbag, transferred over everything and went down the stairs as fast as I could, clinging to the bannister. Bloody heels! I slid into the cab dextrously without revealing too much and we were on our way.

There is nothing quite like an industrial estate at 3:00am. The music from Diabolo's was pounding out and the signs were flashing garishly, but apart from that surreal sign of life, the surroundings were like a scene from a post apocalyptic world. Tatty, unloved, dirty, like a lived in garbage tip. There were a few punters waiting to get in, mainly young guys and a couple of girls, none of whom were dressed for the event, but at this time of night it was about the only place still open so the management were more than happy to take their money.

I unbuckled my coat and walked up to the front of the queue, being careful where I placed my feet as there was no way I wanted to go tumbling over, and the pavement was pretty uneven. It was pretty chilly and my nipples popped right out whereas my cock shrank and swung from side to side as I walked. It was still four inches long even when flaccid. The doorman hardly batted an eyelid at my attire, he was used to it, but I swear that the two guys I had pushed past at the front of the queue almost fell over as they gawped at me. The doorman relieved me of the twenty I was holding between my forefinger and thumb and I savoured the blast of warm air as he opened the door, the scent of hot sweaty bodies and cheap scent filling my nostrils. I stopped at the spotty youth at the cloakroom and handed in my coat and bag and received a numbered bracelet in return as well as a "nice outfit babe!" I ignored him.

I liked being called babe, especially when my cock was so clearly and visibly dangling between my legs. It reminded me that sex and femininity were defined by far more than whether you had a cock or a pussy. I was a babe. I had the most fabulous pair of tits. I was slim, fit and tanned. My persona oozed youth, femininity, beauty and desirability. The only thing getting in the way of what I wanted was the fact that most of the decent guys saw me as unattainable, and the jerks wouldn't leave you alone. Being a babe often meant you also had to be a hard nosed bitch too, but only because men either refused to read the signals, or simply chose to ignore them.

I don't know if you've been to a fetish club. I've only really ever been to this one and one in Berlin. This one was pretty tame by comparison in that although there was plenty of sex happening later on, all those involved were doing it in quiet corners and alcoves rather than on the dance floor. Berlin was just one big orgy! I wanted to dance, and the thing about this club and the resident DJ was that she loved trance music and so did I. I hit the dance floor as a space revealed itself and leapt in with a spin, causing my chains to flail a guy who was way too close and wearing a polka dot bikini and Doc Martin boots. He smiled at me and I mouthed 'sorry', deciding that I would need to be careful before spinning myself round again, even though I loved it!

I was looking for someone special, but had no idea what that actually meant. I would know when I saw them and had managed to speak with them for a few minutes. I moved around the throng of partying people, brushing against some, eyeing-up others. Maybe I was being too choosy, but no one stood out. I realised that I was looking for someone who had actually made an effort, someone with some style and who actually looked good in their gear. It was hardly unreasonable. I looked amazing, so why should I settle for less.

Then I saw her. She was sitting on a high stool at the bar, her legs crossed. The first thing I noticed was her long blonde hair. It was curled and full and looked almost like a lion's mane. Her face was beautifully made up with bold purple eyeshadow, over length lashes and matching purple lips. Her hair rested on a gold sequinned bolero jacket under which she wore just a wide mesh fishnet body-stocking, a wide gold belt and a pair of over-the-knee black boots.

I knew at once she was a kindred spirit. She was quite aloof and avoiding all eye-contact, and I watched her expertly brush away an advance from a hopelessly out of his league guy. That convinced me. I edged my way across the dance floor towards her. I was going to get her anyway, but I wanted her to notice me first. Luck was on my side as the DJ faded into Children by Robert Miles. I could really put on a show now, although I'd need to tone it down a bit, as I had perfected a rather seductive routine to this song, one of my favourites of all time.

My body was writhing slowly like a snake, my arms were expressive, rising above my head and then following my curves down to my hips, brushing my breasts and touching my balls, all in perfect harmony with the music, inspired by my need to get her attention. I closed my eyes, letting the music and the feeling take me away. I loved this dance, and what I was wearing. It was impossible to not feel and look like sex. I felt something twitch inside that told me I was being observed and opened my eyes, knowing I was facing in her direction. Our eyes met. She did not look away. Her eyes burnt me with their emotionless stare, a look which I returned, continuing my dance.

I watched her look down my body and focus on my cock which was swinging as I swayed my hips. She uncrossed her legs. The body-stocking left nothing to the imagination, revealing a fabulously curvy body and its open crotch showing that she was completely shaved. She reached down and touched her pussy and her eyes had softened when she looked back up at me. I smiled, and she beamed back. I admired my catch in its sexy black netting, and slowly danced over to her, taking her head in my hands with confidence and kissing those full purple lips. Her tongue immediately darted into my mouth. She was the one. No conversation required.

Our almost naked breasts rubbed together as our kissing moved from French style to full-on Parisian. It was inevitable that my cock, which one could argue was my brain during my female cycle, was already rock hard and rubbing the inside of her thighs. Her hand reached down and guided me in. She was tight, wet, warm and felt as divine as she looked. I remembered that we were not in Berlin and could possibly be overstepping the mark, but then I thought 'what the fuck' and whispered in her ear. A moment later we were on the dance floor, my cock in her as we danced in a beautifully out of time slow motion, skipping every other beat, pressed together, hips grinding tas if they were joined. We could have been just dry humping, except neither of us had anything on down there, and anyone who cared to look would have seen exactly what was going on, and several did.

We were both supremely confident, proud of our bodies and loved showing them off. You could call us exhibitionists, but exhibitionism is a stupid word and not one I care for. When I had first heard the term it sounded so dull that I assumed it was a quicky at a trade show. Conversely, voyeurism sounds so much sexier and yet it really isn't. It's easy to be a voyeur and it's passive. Pornography makes it pretty much a daily event for some, including me, but being on the other side actually requires some skill and an opportunity. You sort of need to be a bit of a pornstar, so I had coined the term pornstarism.

It was clear that my new friend and I both relished the opportunity to indulge in some pornstarism, you only had to look at what we were wearing to understand that. In addition, during our ever so brief conversation she had also said that she did not care if we got booted out of the club as we had found each other, and could enjoy ourselves privately anywhere, it was only here we could both put on a bit of a public show. In short, there was nothing to lose.

It was not long before we managed to acquire a bit of an audience and a bit of space. The inverse law of voyeurism says the more you like voyeurism, the less worthy of being an exhibitionist you are, and that was certainly true judging from the collective nerdiness surrounding us. However it did give us room to actually vary our act with some nipple action, some oral and several different approaches to penetration, at least one of which had some ballet-like qualities.

Eventually the two bouncers calmly and politely requested we desist and with that we decided that our night was over. That's the trouble with England. They were so polite and pleasant that when we arrived at the door, my friend and I gave them both a blow job each to say thank you. Honestly, they deserved it, and their cocks were actually pretty impressive. It was 4:30am, and I wasn't sure what to do or where to go as it was a twenty minute ride to my place and I didn't want to disturb Ellie anyway.

Sometimes I wonder why I worry so much. It's like some sort of angel looks over me. My new girlfriend sold cars at a high-end dealership just five minutes walk from the club so we headed over there and she let us in. As soon as I saw the Aston Martin I wanted to take her over the bonnet. It must have been the James Bond within me thinking that. She was a professional though! As I slumped into the bucket seat of the AM clutching the tiny steering wheel she went to an office and came back with three top-of-the-range Sony video cameras and tripods. "Porno?" She suggested. To be honest she didn't say much and I really liked that about her. I might as well be honest: she had a bit of an irritating high pitched voice, one that sort of set your teeth on edge. Maybe someone had told her once which was why she was so quiet. She really looked good though, and that fabulous hair of hers made up for it. I could probably get used to it, I thought. Looking at her, I found myself drawn to those luscious lips of hers and pressed mine against them. I loved the way her lips talked to me when we kissed.

Personally I found fucking in front of a camera was almost as good as fucking in front of an audience. You were aware of the camera and had to perform. In some ways it was better as there were no distractions from the inevitable ass-hole who thought you might like him to join in, and you got the advantage of watching it back later and editing it to be super hot. I was good at editing. I was, after all, normally a nerdy bloke, not this hot vamp! I had experimented with 'Only Fans' once and at first I enjoyed the attention and the fact people were paying to see me enjoying a dildo. I mean, people shelling out their cash is a way better vote than a lame click on a 'thumbs-up'.

The thing was that many of my 'fans' were pretty needy. Having made their monetary donation in-lieu of something more seminal, they felt I still owed them and that I was their friend now. Err, no! The banal requests were endless. I did a couple of "guest appearances", and some of my fans paid well over the top to fuck me on camera. I also posted quite a few worn panties for £50 each, £100 if they had cum stains on them, and most did! I had some silicone dildos moulded from my cock. They went for £200 and a used one was a grand! I just laughed that someone would give me so much, but then that's the free market. A hundred nicker for a pair of dirty knickers. Maybe they'll end up in someone's art collection one day and I was simply following in Tracy Emin's footsteps!

It soon became pretty onerous and stopped being fun, so I stopped. I made £20,000 in two months with no real effort at all, but I didn't need the money and, after raising myself up on to the moral high ground that my wealth allowed me, I certainly did not want to give the people who had created such an exploitative site twenty percent of my earnings. I deleted the account and jacked it in. It was so much better spending my time out with real like-minded people, like now!

I helped set up the camera's and we set them rolling. We started off in-side. I was the driver, and she was the passenger giving me a blow job. I positioned a camera carefully by the brake pedal giving an unusual upshot of her in action. Another was looking in through the side window, and the final one was on the bonnet, looking down through the windscreen. I had to keep checking the monitor images on her phone to make sure we were getting good footage, or at least the full eight inches.

We moved onto the back seat, me behind her, the cameras all repositioned. That was the real fun, getting the right pose and right camera angles so you could get the action and make it sexy. Next she laid across the back seat on her back with the door open and head tilted back while I face fucked her. She was good at that and had no gag reflex whatsoever. Being deep in her throat was so hot I told her I was going to struggle not to come, and she just gave me a thumbs up as there was no way she could speak. I let go of my load, pulling out as I did for the benefit of the cameras, which caught the last few spurts. She had to right herself quickly though as my cum had started to flow into her nostrils.

She was a bit concerned that I would not be able to finish off, but I assured her that it would be no problem. This curse of mine was really useful on such occasions! Cameras in position, I licked her out as she spread herself on the bonnet until she came. It was a beautiful orgasm, I loved the way she arched her back and pushed her pussy into my face. She sat up, arms behind her, and after adjusting the camera angles again, I bent over her and fucked her fast and furious, the suspension squeaking in time to my pounding. I reckoned "Fast and Furious -- 69" might be the perfect title for this car sex video and mentioned it. She loved the name. I was so turned on, and she was so hot, all I had to do was press my lips against hers and I came again, shooting into her hot pussy.

I was ready to wrap, but she demanded a 69 as I had put that in the title. I could see that made sense. She rotated round with her feet on the windscreen and head bent down over the grill. I slipped my cock into her mouth again and brought mine to her pussy, loving that taste of me and her. I can honestly say we forgot about the filming. This was heaven. The feeling of her hair on my thighs as I slid in and out of her throat, the feeling of her lips as I pulled out and pushed back in, it was the best ever. I used my fingers on her and I began to torment her clit with flicks from my tongue. I guess it was inevitable that we came together. Beautiful!

It was getting on towards 6:00am and I saw a slight look of panic. I helped her put everything back and even got the mop out. She handed me the three SD cards and gave me her contact details. I baulked at that momentarily, but then I thought that I really would like to see her again, and there was no easy way round it. I gave her mine. I called for a taxi and we headed home, our coats covering everything up and giving a sense of sweet innocence to us both. I snogged her all the way to her front door. I think its worth saying again. She really had lips to die for!

/to be continued