Touched by the Moon Pt. 08

It was more than just arousal and musk that filled that space. The sensations Sam was sensing, knowing these people and what their desires were, it was enough to make her head start spinning. Wren wanted satisfaction, that was obvious, but beneath it she could sense his confusion at just how quickly that desire had come over him, and how he'd lost control of it. The man behind her—David, the lone Hispanic—had his hands all over her ass and given how aroused he was, Sam knew exactly what he had planned for her. The cock in her hand pulled away, but now there were more hands in her hair, on her arms and back, sliding up and down her dangling calves; the men around Sam were touching her all over, drawn to her like flies to a flame.

The energy in that place was like nothing Sam had ever experienced before. It felt like magic, if magic could feel like anything at all—and given what she was beginning to learn, Sam suspected that magic was no more of a fairy tale than werewolves were. The moon was rising by that time, and it had a magic of its own, too: Sam could feel it raging in her veins and quivering in her belly, demanding to be sated by any means necessary. The need inside these people for comfort, for physical touch, it was like a fire hose had been choked off and now it was free to flow and wash over all of them; there was no way she could take it all in, not without drowning. Sam was finally understanding why they hadn't been able to obey Phil's orders, why it was so easy to draw them into sex, into touching and being touched—they needed that physical contact, needed that emotional connection. It made them a pack, and bound them to one another. They needed one another.

Now, Sam needed them, too.

After straddling Wren's lap, Sam slid her hands down his face, across his neck and shoulders. They didn't speak—no one in that space was saying much of anything, save for the occasional profane word or heavy breath. The way they all talked had nothing to do with words. Sam moaned aloud as she felt Wren's hard shaft slide into the tightness of her aching quim, and she whimpered as she went down and down even more—she'd already forgotten just how good his cock was, and now she bit her lip, whimpering with delight. David squeezed her ass so tight he was going to bruise her, and Sam just arched her back and pushed harder into his hands, wanting more.

Raising her head, Sam took a much-needed breath, casting her eyes quickly around the room. Susie, it seemed, was Bubba's alone to please, but Sam guessed that came from youth and inexperience. Claudia had no such restrictions: she and her lovers were on the floor now, a tangled mess of limbs, flesh, mouths and more. It reminded Sam of seeing Rebecca the precious day, a cock in every hole and a look of satisfaction on her face, but Claudia lacked the blonde's haughty demeanor: the brunette sighed and gasped, rocked her hips and swapped kisses with anyone close enough to reach. She wanted to please them, wanted them to please her in return. Sam could feel the waves of hunger radiating off of the woman, and it just made Sam want more.

Bowing her head, hands splayed across the bar, Sam ground her loins harder to Wren's, feeling his knot sliding and stretching against her slippery pussy lips. Groaning louder, baring her teeth, she watched him open his mouth to growl back at her; she fixated on his canines, white and sharp, wishing she could feel them sink into her flesh.

Across the bar, Sam watched as Susie pushed her ass back, as Bubba grabbed her hips tight and fucked her with hard, loud slaps of flesh. Her pale, freckled face was flush and full, eyes half-lidded, mouth opened wide. On impulse, with nothing but desire leading her, Sam leaned over Wren, pressing her breasts against his mouth while she grabbed Susie by her bright-red curls and kissed her—Susie's eyes flew open and they looked right at one another, but the surprised kiss quickly deepened, tongues sliding, lips compressing tight together. Susie even reached for Sam next, hands curling into her hair also for a moment, clutching at something solid amidst the tumult of emotions she was drowning in.

Sam licked Susie's lips, showing a tiny smile and a wink before pulling back. As she did, Wren's hands tightened around her waist and pushed her down hard atop his cock, forcing his knot into her waiting cunt; Sam grit her teeth and cried out. "Yes!" she called, hearing it vibrate in her ears amidst the men growling and the other women moaning. "Do it, David," she ordered the man behind her, "stop fucking around and fuck me!"

A second later, Sam clenched her teeth and gave a low call that turned into a gasp as her ass was forcefully filled by another man's cock. Now she had both of them fucking her with an alternating rhythm, making her breathe soft and fast as places she hadn't felt in far too long began to melt with pleasure. Slapping the bar, fingers reaching and fingernails scratching for something strong to hold onto, Sam opened her mouth wide and groaned again—hard, loud, like the hottest kind of whore—when a second knot was forced past her tight sphincter muscles and locked inside her.

That was beyond anything Sam had ever experienced before. She was slick with sweat and had to close her eyes, and might've fallen over if Wren hadn't been holding her tight. He was whispering something into her ear, but Sam was too far gone in all of the emotions flowing over her, filling up her head, making her heart race.

She could feel Susie's desperate love for the man fucking her, tying with her, filling her with his seed; she felt Bubba want Susie the same way, felt how strongly he desired her above all others.

Sam felt Wren's lust for her, the desire so strong and hard to contain that it made her heart ache.

She felt David's lust as well, but his was a much more familiar sort: the need for relief, the undeniably male desire to climax. That feeling was so thick in that room Sam could hardly think about anything else, and she could only imagine how strong it was for the other women, who were so sensitive to please the men fucking them.

Wren was the first to cum. Sam couldn't feel him cumming, not physically, but she felt his climax starting in his own head, felt it wash over her like a mental orgasm; David's was right behind, and both men began to fill her with their seed. Sam cried out, her body rocking and spasming, squeezing their dicks like she intended to mold herself to their shapes, remaking herself just for them.

Susie, who'd been struggling to find relief even while Bubba started to orgasm, grabbed for Sam's hands. As soon as they touched, the redhead arched her back and wailed as she came, as if Sam was the one to push her over the edge. They held hands across the bar and shook together, fingers clutching tight, wombs filling with the hot, flowing jism of their lovers.

Claudia was even slower to climax, but Sam's presence in the room was impossible for the other woman to resist for long. The diner began to fill with the smell of male lust, of fluids spilling over, of sweat and spunk staining the floor. By the time it was over, the entire pack was shaking and trembling in one way or another.

But one emotion had most assuredly been banished from that place, at least for a little while—the clinging stink of fear was gone. As she clung to Wren's body, panting, trembling limbs tightening around him, Sam permitted herself the freedom to close her eyes for just a moment.

Fear would return eventually, she knew that. But Sam intended to make sure that it didn't stay long, and by the time she was done, no one would have anything to fear of Tennessee and his folk ever again.

She owed her father that much. Sam wanted to give these people that much, at least. And she wanted that for herself, as well.