Full Moon RisingbyMorganHawke©
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"The moon will be rising soon," the werewolf thought to himself as he drifted through the crowd of writhing dancers at the club, Gothic Noire. "I'll have to find someone to fuck soon or I'll spend the next month locked in my wolf shape." The moon's nearness was calling to his soul, even through the brick walls. He could feel his eyes shifting slowly from their natural emerald green to wolfen gold.
His head lifted and his eyes glowed a brilliant predator green as they reflected the odd club lighting. The glow winked out as he turned his head, changing the the angle of reflection. He leaned against the wall in a dark corner, delicately sifting through the scents looking for his prey. His sensitive nose was overpowered by the scents. There were too many warm, sweating bodies rubbing against each other in multiple parodies of sex. The aromas aggravated his need. Standing up, stretching to his full impressive height, he moved away from the wall and drifted like smoke through the dancers and the throbbing music, his cock semi-aroused in anticipation.
"I hate being in a rush like this every fucking month," he muttered to himself as he searched. He despised the curse that required him, every damned month, to bring a woman to climax before he could cum. But nothing less would generate enough power to keep control over his changes. Trying to find someone with enough passion to keep up with his need, and appetite, every full moon was a real pain in the ass.
Not having a woman of his own was his own damn fault and he knew it, but he couldn't afford to have anyone finding out about his true nature. "Oh, hey, you're cute, and by the way I'm a werewolf; is that okay with you?" he snarled to himself in a snide half-joke. "Oh Yeah, that'd go over real well. Then I'll have another freak chasing me cross-country with a shot-gun full of silver." He smiled at his own wit, revealing the gleam of sharp incisors. "As if silver was really going to do me any harm."
A clean fresh aroma drifted through the cigarette smoke and alcohol fumes, catching his notice. He felt his cock rise to full erection, pressing uncomfortably against his snug leather pants in response. A perfume of baby powder, soap and warm frustrated woman drew his fascination. He followed the enticing fragrance to a tiny female leaning against the wall, completely alone.
Shy as most predators tend to be, he drifted past her noting the waterfall of silvery blonde locks that flowed down past her shoulders to swing at her hips. She had electric blue eyes and wore a very short leather skirt. Her full breasts were barely contained by the pearl buttons of her tight white blouse. The black lights made the lace of her bra glow fluorescent white, making it clearly visible through the sheer material.
As she shifted her stance slightly, he caught a tiny glimpse of what had to be the edge of her white panties, also glowing under the black lights. His rigid flesh pressed insistently against his stomach as he studied the context of her delicate scent. He was pleased by the definite lack of a male scent hovering near her.
"So, she's not here with another male nor has she been touched by one recently. Good!" the werewolf thought, a cunning smile curling his lips. He walked past her through the door to the enclosed porch outside.
"Now, how to corner her and get her out into the parking lot for a fast fuck ..." he thought to himself.
Heather swept her long, silvery blonde hair behind her shoulder as she leaned against the wall of the crowded Goth club. She took a sip of her Long Island Iced Tea and froze. Nervously, she realized that she could feel eyes boring into her flesh. Heather could feel someone's stare brushing like ghostly fingers across her body, lingering on her breasts and her far-too-exposed thighs. Nervously, she dropped a hand to the hem of her leather mini-skirt and tugged in a futile attempt to cover herself.
Apprehensively, Heather looked around her, seeking. But no one seemed to stand out as the source of the gaze she felt. She'd received a lot of curious looks, which she'd attributed to the shortness of her skirt and the tightness of her blouse, but this was far more intrusive, almost aggressive. She felt vaguely threatened.
"God, I should've never let Lisa talk me into wearing her clothes," she sighed ruefully. Heather pulled at the buttons of her sheer white blouse, fidgeting unconsciously. Her full breasts pushed relentlessly at the tiny pearls, opening gaps in her blouse. Her exposed virginal, white lace bra glowed brightly under the black light.
"Everything's too damned small, I'm gonna pop a button any second," she told herself. She tugged up the tops of her black seamed stockings that refused to hide beneath the hem of the leather skirt. The lacy straps of the snowy white garter belt showed every time she took a step. Perturbed and growling in frustration, Heather took a swallow of the sweet, potent drink. The harsh Gothic-Industrial music throbbed loudly, and she felt it pressing against her flesh like hands, closing in on her.
All around her people were dancing to the heavy music in slow, exaggerated movements. As she focused on the exotic costumes and heavy theatre make-up they wore, Heather realized that she still looked like an innocent schoolgirl compared to everyone else. There were people in leather, vinyl, lace, and velvets. Many were wearing considerably less and showing far more skin and cleavage than she.
Heather took a healthy swallow of her Long-Island Iced Tea and realized for the first time how strong the bartender had made it. The alcohol slid into the pit of her empty stomach and she suddenly felt light-headed.
"Maybe I should go outside," Heather mumbled out loud as she felt the alcohol hit her brain. "Thank God I didn't wear those spiked heels Lisa tried to talk me into, or I'd be flat on the floor by now."
With careful steps, Heather walked to the doorway of the enclosed outside porch. Practically no one was out there. She walked over toward a dark corner. The crisp autumn breeze blew some of the fumes away and Heather's mind cleared a little. Breathing deep, she smiled as she looked up at the clear stars, turned and promptly walked into a firm, hard-muscled body.
"Oh! Sorry!" Heather said as she looked up ... and up ... into the eyes of a very tall man. The tiny tree lights gave only a dim light, especially after the harsh glare of the club's powerful strobes. Still it was enough to let her see that he was strikingly handsome and dark. She felt strong hands grip her upper arms, steadying her from their collision. A smile touched his mouth as he gazed down at her. She could see that he had fine, if sharp features with a pronounced four o'clock shadow. Thick black lashes framed his bright, yellow-green eyes, the corners tilting up to give him an exotic, feral look. Dark brows slanted up over his deep-set eyes like wings. Long waves of lustrous black hair fell over his shoulders, like silk.
"Hi, I ah..." Heather began, and was quickly stopped by his finger pressed gently to her lips for silence. Her lips tingled where he touched them and she licked them without thinking, gazing at his faint smile.
He chuckled softly, thinking, "I wonder if she knows how close to the surface all that pent-up frustration really is?" His smile widened, parting his lips slightly, revealing a bright flash of white teeth.
"Were those fangs?" She asked herself, surprised. Then, "Oh, wait, this is a Goth club," she reminded herself. "Duh ... just about everybody wears fangs, and half the people here really want to be Vampires."
Mesmerized, she watched his graceful hand reach out to grasp a thick lock of her blonde mane, letting the silvery strands slide slowly through his fingers. His eyes followed the path of his hand; he was fascinated by her hair. She noticed his fingers were tipped in long, curved nails, almost like claws. His touch and obvious admiration started an intimate warmth that curled down into her belly.
"Beautiful," thought the werewolf, "just beautiful with those wide, innocent eyes the color of an autumn sky, hiding all that untapped fire. Those full lips and that hair ... what incredible hair." Noting how petite she really was, he realized her head didn't quite reach his shoulder.
Thinking to kiss her, he leaned forward slowly then stopped as she shied away slightly. Changing tactics, he took her small delicate hand and raised it to his lips. Watching her closely, he softly brushed his lips across her knuckles then brushed them fleetingly with the tip of his tongue. She shivered visibly, but didn't pull away.
"My God, he's beautiful!" she caught herself thinking. "I can't stop looking at him." His green-gold eyes were locked onto hers and she felt the fine hairs on the back of her neck rise. She felt as though his eyes were reaching into hers to take hold of her soul.
"Yes, that's it, Princess" he thought, pleased as he detected the slight scent of her arousal. "A shame I don't have the time to really work on her, she has definite potential," he thought with real regret. "Damn, I hate being in a hurry, but I have to get her outside soon ...". Taking a calculated risk, he slid his hands into her hair and very gently cupped her head to hold her quiet, prepared to use his strength if necessary.
Then in a sudden move, he turned and pressed her tightly back against the wooden palisade wall. He watched her eyes widen and she let out a small cry in surprise as he drew closer and closer still. He felt her hands clench in the lapels of his leather vest. Leaning forward, he touched his nose to her ear. Slowly he inhaled and then exhaled with a soft growl. He felt her body tremble with long rippling shivers.
"Oh, God, what is this guy doing to me?" Heather thought to herself. "He feels so good, he smells so good ...". She closed her eyes and took a deep breath as she shuddered under the onslaught of his touch. His body was an inferno as he pressed his length onto her.
Lightly he touched his tongue to the shell of her ear tracing the curve, then dipped delicately but moistly into the sensitive center. He exhaled softly creating a cool breeze against the damp flesh. Locked in his embrace, he felt her tremble again, uncontrollably, and draw a ragged breath with a tiny moan. Unconsciously she pulled him closer. He trailed his open mouth, nibbling lightly, along her jaw then touched his lips to hers. She opened her mouth beneath him as he swept in to stroke her tongue with his.
"Holy shit!" rocketed through Heather's cloudy mind. "This gorgeous man is kissing me and oh, Jeez-uz -fuck, can he kiss!" She could feel the firmness of the hand cradling her head and the power of his body pressing against her passionately. The aroma of leather and his potent male sexuality curled around her as she breathed deeply. She could feel his erection in the cradle of her hips, hot through the leather and heavy with intent. Mesmerized by the fierce pleasure coursing through her body she heard herself moan into his mouth.
"Good, there's alcohol in her," the werewolf thought as he tasted the Long Island Iced Tea she'd been drinking. "This should make it easier for me to take her before she's realized what's happened."
She answered his kiss with a ferocity that surprised him. "She probably doesn't realize how strongly she's responding," he thought to himself, elated. And she was responding, her natural passion blazing through her, out of control. Perfect. He deepened his kiss, slanting his mouth over hers for deeper penetration. Using care not to nip her with his sharp fangs, he took her mouth, tasting her and inhaling deeply to steal her breath as she exhaled. His body kept her captive against the wooden fence, his legs wide. With a moan, he rolled his hips and pressed his entrapped cock against her softness as he continued to kiss her.
Slowly, so as not to frighten her, he slid his hand from her silky hair down her shoulder and arm to press against her narrow waist. Carefully he skimmed his hand up her ribs. His hand closed over her breast through the blouse and he squeezed lightly, then again more firmly. With his long nails he tugged her hardened nipple beneath her lace bra and sharp bolts of pleasure shot straight to her belly. Pressed close against her, he felt the shudder that racked her body and answered it with an involuntary one of his own. He captured her soft moan in his mouth as they kissed.
"If I don't get her outside soon, I may cum in my own pants," he thought, feverishly.
Want and need coursed urgently through Heather as she pulled her hands from his lapels to dive under his vest wanting to touch him. She needed to touch him. As though in a dream, she swept her hands over the silk shirt he wore and found that he was a solid wall of whipcord muscle. She swept her hands down his back, scoring him lightly with her nails then digging in to pull him closer. She was rewarded with a growl of pleasure from him that vibrated through them both. She wanted to touch his skin, but his shirt was tucked in. She couldn't just tug his shirt out; that would be rude. Damn it!
His thumb rolled her tender nipple, straining against her blouse. Without realizing what she was doing, Heather's hips rose to meet his, pushing strongly against the heat of his erection. He almost purred in pleasure and lifted his head to look at her with heated, hungry eyes blazing more gold than green. Licking his lips, his fingers unfastened the straining buttons to her blouse. Barely aware of what he was doing, she let him. A warm hand slid inside her bra and his hand closed on her bare flesh. With a deep sigh, her spine arched eagerly, pushing into his hand. He smiled at her response.
The reality of a man's hand on her naked breast shocked Heather suddenly awake. "Oh, God, I must be drunker than I thought!" Startled in confusion and alarm, she tried to pull away only to discovered how firmly he had her pinned; his for the taking. She watched his smile grow feral as he held her there and continued with the caress. As he tugged sharply on her captured nipple, more lightning bolts of liquid pleasure pulsed down her flesh, matching time to his touch. She became aware of a slick wetness dampening her panties. Heather heard her own breath as she panted with the need that gripped her. She felt herself flutter open with the hunger and anticipation of being entered by him.
"Oh, God, I can't be doing this!" Heather thought in distress, even as her body screamed "More! Don't stop!" Biting her lip in sexual frustration and humiliation at her submission, Heather shoved him hard and rolled out from beneath him. She fastened her blouse buttons in a panic as she bolted for the ladies' room inside.
"Oh, no Princess, it's too late for running," the werewolf thought amusedly. He pushed away from the wall to give chase.
"I can't believe I let that guy kiss me like that, I can't believe I was kissing him back! I hope to God nobody saw me kissing a total stranger like that ...". Fearing to look behind her, she threaded her way through the crowd. She dove into the hall and headed past the stairs only to find a line in front of the bathrooms halting her escape.
"Shit," she said out loud. Heather felt a tug on her skirt and then was turned around sharply.
"Going somewhere?" said the man she'd been kissing. His eyes were narrowed and intent with the fever of open lust, his smile grim. He'd followed her and had caught her by the waistband of her skirt. Between one breath and the next, he imprisoned her arm in a powerful grip and she found herself being bodily shoved through a doorway and up a short staircase.
"Hey, uh, I don't know you and I, uh, normally don't go kissing people ...", she tried to protest as he forced her into the dimly lit narrow room upstairs. "There's been a mistake, I didn't mean ...".
"You didn't mean to kiss me?" he asked, his hypnotic voice slid over her like potent whisky. His eyes were slits of gold fire as his glare locked and held her own in a punishing grip. Heather could feel her self-control slipping away from her reach. He licked his lips, the sharp points of his teeth gleaming in his predatory smile.
"Not like ... not like that," she said, her voice dropping to barely a whisper. He slowly backed her into a dark corner of the empty room. The light from the solitary lamp etched his face with menacing shadows.
"Oh, God!" she thought to herself. "Oh, God I think I'm in trouble ...".
"I like the way you kiss," his voice rumbled and he pulled her closer. Abruptly, he turned and sat in the room's only chair facing her. With him seated, their eyes were on the same level. Heather could feel him reaching out to take control of her will. Her traitorous body responded with the compulsion to succumb to the cravings for his touch.
"I want you," he said harshly and tugged her closer. "I need you," he growled. His voice vibrated with unleashed passion. He released her arm to capture the back of her head, gently but firmly gripping her by the hair to hold her still. Her mouth opened to protest but his lips closed suddenly on hers in a possessive kiss. His tongue swept inside and her objections faded into a long moan as waves of hot desire washed over her.
Heather's mind cleared of all thoughts of resistance. Her tongue parried his as she returned his kiss. He moaned into her mouth as he recognized her surrender. She was lost in the firestorm of excitement sweeping through her blood, her flesh screaming in voracious desire.
She barely felt his arm close about her waist, a hand cupping her rounded ass as she was tipped forward. Feeling herself falling, Heather put her hands on his shoulders and gripped the leather of his vest. His arm tightened without warning as he pulled her down and closer. Unexpectedly she lost her balance and found herself sitting astride his lap, straddling his muscular thighs, pressed against him full length. Her soft breasts were crushed against the wall of his chest.
His hand curled into her hair. Slowly and irresistibly he pulled her head back, breaking the kiss. With a moist tongue, he laved her vulnerable neck tasting her. She closed her eyes in moaning surrender and quivered as his panting breath caressed her. She could feel his sharp fangs grazing her as he nipped lightly on her exposed throat. Her eyes fluttered closed in bliss.
Clever fingers tugged on her buttons as she was held immobile by his grip on her hair. Heather felt the front of her bra open, releasing both her vulnerable breasts to his mercy. Her nipples hardened powerfully in the cool air, her need strong to have them touched. Long nails lightly pricked her flesh as his hand closed about one full breast and then the other, measuring their voluptuous weight. She could hear his sighs of pleasure as he swept his hand over her pliant skin. Nails bit lightly into her softness and a callused thumb slid over one sensitive nipple and then the other.
The furnace of his wet mouth slid from her throat down her collarbone and onto the flesh of the breast, making damp circles. He circled downward on the delicate skin with his tongue taking possession of a nipple, sucking softly and then more strongly. His tongue flicked the nipple against his teeth, insistently shocking her with bolt after bolt of pleasure.
As heat gripped her body in spasms of greedy desire, her groaning cries were loud in her ears. She arched her back to lean into his mouth for more of his mouth as she cried out in carnal lust. He suckled strongly on one nipple and then the other, pulling on them until both were painfully erect. Her hips thrust forward by themselves and Heather was conscious only of the powerful rippling sensations engulfing her body.
He slowly spread his muscular legs between her soft thighs, irresistibly opening her legs widely. Her skirt slid up to her waist and exposed her completely. A hand splayed on the silk of her stockings then moved up to the flesh of her thigh. The hand continued up in a slow heated caress. Suddenly his palm covered her heat completely and he squeezed in possession. She moaned in fear and anticipation.