DARK
ROMANCES
an anthology
by
JEN ASHTON
AIDEN JAMES
REN CONNERY
Ashton Edition
* * * * *
PUBLISHED BY:
Jen Ashton
THIS BOOK CAN ALSO BE FOUND UNDER THE FOLLOWING TITLES:
SHADOWED LIAISONS: by Aiden James
MORTAL PASSIONS: by Ren Connery
Dark Romances
Copyright © 2011 by Jen Ashton
Cover by Jen Ashton
All rights reserved. Without limiting the rights under copyright reserved above, no part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in or introduced into a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form, or by any means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise) without the prior written permission of both the copyright owner and the above publisher of this book.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, brands, media, and incidents are either the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. The author acknowledges the trademarked status and trademark owners of various products referenced in this work of fiction, which have been used without permission. The publication/use of these trademarks is not authorized, associated with, or sponsored by the trademark owners.
Smashwords Edition License Notes
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DARK ROMANCES
an anthology
SIX TWISTED TALES OF PLEASURE AND PERIL
by Jen Ashton
An erotic collection of strange seductions and titillating terror. Ashton explores the dichotomy of pleasure and peril in this poetic and somewhat disturbing look into the would-be romances and intimate affairs of cinema’s most notorious cult classic villains. A bit campy and a lot of fun, this collection entertains as it serves up plenty of guts and gore with a side of sweet sensuality. Graphic and semi-explicit.
THE VAMPIRE’S LAST LOVER by Aiden James
Txema Ybarra is the most unenviable nineteen-year-old girl alive. Born with an unusual ‘twin teardrop’ birthmark on her neck, Txema is caught in the middle of a vampire war after all the other bearers of the birthmark are murdered. The race is on to save her blood, and her very life, to ensure the survival of Les Amants de Vampire. Otherwise, Txema will be the last one…the vampires’ last lover.
THE SPIRIT IS WILLING by Ren Connery
A young woman is left to her own devices when spending a night alone in a long-abandoned mansion in the Pacific Northwest. But when her thoughts and imaginations begin to draw her back into the delicately immersive memories stored within its walls, she discovers there is life yet within the emptied rooms; life which feels as tantalizingly and intimately drawn to her as she feels to it.
DARK ROMANCES, an anthology… three storytellers of intimate immortal romances in one back-arching, nail-biting eBook collection!
DARK ROMANCES
NIGHTMARE ON SEX STREET
THE BIG BAD WOLF
PSYCHO MOTEL
MAN BEHIND THE MASK
CANNIBAL LUST
THE RIPPER’S GIRL
Six Twisted Tales of Pleasure and Peril
by
JEN ASHTON
BOOKS BY JEN ASHTON
Goddess On The Go:
A Guidebook to Becoming Irresistible
Adonis On The Go:
A Guidebook to Becoming Irresistible
Ashton Ashton We All Fall Down
Life, Love and the Misadventures of My Lost Libido
SHORT STORY COLLECTIONS
The Pleasure Diaries:
Six Sinfully Delicious Stories Volumes 1, 2, 3
Guilty Pleasures:
3 Pleasure Diaries in One
Sexcapades:
Six Sizzling Short Stories Volume 1, 2, 3
Sexy Tales
3 Sexcapades in One
Simply Irresistible Sex Stories Boxed Set
Pleasure Diaries and Sexcapades
Instant Erotica
Six Perfectly Pleasurable Stories Volumes 1, 2, 3
Instant Pleasure
3 Instant Eroticas in One
ANTHOLOGIES
Sweet Seductions
Author’s Note
Venturing into new territory, I have combined two of my favorite genres to bring my readers a scintillating book that explores the dichotomy of pleasure and peril. I have truly, truly enjoyed stretching my imagination beyond the limits of erotica and across the boundaries of traditional horror. Not to be taken too seriously and only vaguely using their likenesses, I have toyed with the idea of exposing the intimate affairs of six of our all-time favorite movie villains. Through a poetic and somewhat disturbing journey, you will fall in love with these characters all over again. I’ll admit this is a bit campy, but that’s what made this experience so dang fun! Enjoy!
~ Jen Ashton
~~~~~
NIGHTMARE ON SEX STREET
Last I knew I had fallen asleep in the comfort of my own bed. Slipped somewhere deep between my satin sheets and lucid dreams, I had been safe and secure, nestled in the warmth of a place I called home. Now, strangely, I seemed to have awakened inside of someone else’s nightmare.
It was dark and sweltering hot as I found myself standing barefoot on a steel-grated platform stories above an emanating glow. The darkness filled with the sounds of tinkering steel and a roaring furnace below, I was positively sure I was inside a steel plant on the industrial side of town. I glanced down my body, still seductively draped in the cream-colored silk teddy I donned before bed, and peered beyond my toes through the grating. The smoldering caldrons of melted orange steel cast a fiery luminescence beneath me as a blast of steam crawled up the stairs to greet me. The moisture in the air was thick as it sailed up my long, slender legs and snaked through my tousled locks. As its sweet condensation glistened upon my smooth skin, my silk nightie and long hair clung to my body like a wanton lover.
The heat embraced me in the darkness as I stood there perspiring and confused. Unaware of how I had gotten there, I felt naked and vulnerable, gasping for a breath of fresh air and an answer to my whereabouts. I had an imminent notion that I was not supposed to be there. An uneasy feeling clawed its way across my chest, pulling the very breath from my lungs once again.
“Help me!” A woman’s petrified voice shrieked, echoing through the corridors like a terrified animal falling prey to its calculated killer.
Suddenly, I saw a shadow creeping from the catwalk below, followed by the clanking footsteps of a victim running scared atop the steel planks. I crouched behind the railing to shield myself from sight, frightened for both hers and my own safety. I watched from above as she frantically ran underneath, screaming for help and unable to escape the impending danger that followed her. What was she running from? Or better yet, who? She was desperate and alone, scared for her life and begging to be saved. My instinct was to call out to her, to lend my hand down and assist in her rescue, but just as I hesitated, a figure loomed in the distance, stalking her like a hunter in the night.
“Please! Please,” she cried, stumbling over her own twisted feet as she tried to decide whether to climb up or down the stairs in front of her.
She was exhausted and near defeat, covered in fresh cuts and charred burns that smeared across her frail body. She was obviously depleted of any further hope to survive. My heart pumped profusely as my adrenaline levels escalated to a dangerous level. Her fear was contagious.
“Please!” She begged, “Don’t hurt me!”
There was a fear in her voice that I had never heard before; a hunger to live combined with the acceptance of looming death. She knew no way out. Her voice trembled with fear, panting with fatigue as she fell to her knees and surrendered to her executioner.
Out of the shadows he came. Unaware of my presence, he slowly stalked her. My view was obscured as I tried for a better look at him. I quickly crawled on my hands across the steel platform above, peering through the railing. My breath shallow with haste, I was morbidly and innately curious to see him. Something inside me was excited by the thrill of her unfortunate demise and the huntsman who delivered death to her door. I clung to the steel poles inside my sweating palms and, in perverse anticipation, wondered how I might have become so beastly at heart. Perhaps my adrenaline was taking its hold on me, or perhaps I had hidden somewhere deep inside, my own preditorial blood lust.
He was tall and lanky, lurking from the darkness wearing a brimmed hat and tattered sweater. He moved stealthily across the steel plank holding what seemed to be a handful of sharp blades that caught the light from the fiery pits below just right, sending a shimmering glare in my direction. My heart skipped a beat as I was dangerously turned on, hoping to catch a glimpse of his face as he made his final approach. She wasn’t moving; helplessly stunned as her shrill whimpers pleaded for him to either release her or hasten the inevitable. He cackled in his victory; a sinister laugh of pleasure and peril.
Falling back onto her hands, she clawed at the cold steel catwalk with her feet, trying for traction in one last attempt to get away. Losing her balance at the top of the stairs, she plummeted down, tumbling and rolling like a ragdoll until she landed on the platform below. I lost sight of her as I heard her body fall limp against the steel. I watched as he descended after her, callously aroused by her anticlimactic efforts. I was eager to get a clear view of his sadistic pursuit. As he lingered over her, I slid across the walkway and quietly snuck down a flight of stairs just above them for a front row seat, carnally intrigued.
My heart was racing and my blood pumped vigorously through my veins as I watched him plunge his daggered hand deep into her body. Twisting his blades into her entrails, she let out one last muffled gurgle as the blood stained her clothes and pooled on the platform underneath her body. I watched as the deep red life force that was once her, seeped through the grating and dripped to the concrete floor below. His hat still shielding his face, I could only watch in desperate fascination as this dark figure took joy in mangling her lifeless form in a victorious ritual of power and playfulness. Who was he?
I quickly realized that I was no longer shrouded by my once sought-after hiding place, crouching in plain view if he were to look in my direction. Hastily pulling my face back from in between the steel steps and turning to flee for shelter, the pendant from my thin, gold necklace clinked against the stairwell, giving me away. I gasped aloud, grabbing the pendant in my hand and squeezing it to keep it from swinging between my breasts. It was too late, the sound of metal on metal echoed between us and he twisted his torso and face around to catch me quivering overhead. Our eyes met as I caught the very first look of his grossly melted face and seething stare.
“Who’s there?” He grumbled with a slithering voice.
For a moment, the hunter felt hunted. In the darkness, I sensed he could only see the whites of my eyes glistening in the illuminating haze from the fiery caldrons below. There was a long pause between us as his eyes widened and then narrowed while he transitioned from surprise to predator. The almond shape of my own eyes swelled with fright upon his expression and I took a deep breath. He lifted his blood-soaked claws to the railing, slowly wrapping his hand around it as each blade tapped the steel; one after the other in sluggish synchronization. He was contemplating his next move as I read his thoughts. I held my breath and waited as he clinched the railing, readying himself to lunge in my direction.
“No!” I cried as I leapt up the stairs, running for my life.
The chase was on. My bare feet clung to the steps as I ascended with quick cunning, rounding each landing like a seasoned athlete. My silk negligee, damp from the sweltering heat of the factory, hugged my hips and ass as I staggered the stairs in a panic. My pert breasts bounced in unison under their silken camisole as I hiked upward in a hurry. I could hear him gaining on me. His heavy breath and clamorous footsteps mounted dangerously close in his pursuit. Arriving at the top, I ran blindly across the catwalk suspended high above the steaming inferno below. Unaware of the dead end ahead, this critical decision left me no way out and no way to escape the hand of my assassin; a hand already stained with the blood of another damsel in distress.
I stopped dead in my tracks and awaited him.
“Who are you?” He asked, approaching me slowly, conscious of my inability to elude his clutches.
The fire from below highlighted the features of his face as I saw him in all his horrid magnificence. Questionably stimulated by his presence, I took a deep breath and stood in confidence; a final stance of integral faith before my untimely murder. My eyes locked with his as he sauntered toward me, curious and captivated. It was not plausible that an outsider could enter the haunting nightmare of another, especially one that he had created.
“How did you get here?” He asked in a deep and raspy voice that sounded like it emanated from his bowels.
I still hadn’t answered him. Rather, I stood tall, shoulders back, my heart beating out of my chest and my ripe breasts spilling from my top. He slithered close, smelling my essence, ever more curious. Raising one finger adorned with a four-inch blade still dripping with blood, he gently pressed its sharp tip into the center of my chest. In the absence of a flinch and greeted, rather, with a longing stare, he pushed harder. Leaning forward into him to show no fear of my own, his steely knife pierced my skin and the blood began to seep from the tiny fresh puncture.
“I see you,” I whispered, lifting my hand to cradle his grotesque face with a primal female adoration for a skillful hunter.
My trembling lips went still, turning up in the corners to show my devilish delight. My fingertips grazed the callous exterior that once had been his skin. I could only imagine scars like that resulted from a chemical burn or intentional bodily harm of some sort. There was a man underneath this macabre monster and my bizarre curiosity was dying to find him. I was morbidly fascinated by his gruesome and complex existence and I was reaching out to let him know just that.
“I see you,” I whispered again, softening my brow and assuring him that I was compassionately engrossed.
“Hah!” He snarled, retrieving his blade and hurling his forearm to block my reach.
His quick reflex threw me off balance momentarily, whipping my damp hair across my moist skin, clinging tightly like golden serpents crawling across my face and neck. As I gripped the railing to my left to keep from falling, I felt a smooth touch against my breasts like soft petals cascading down my tender mounds. The softness ripened my sensitive nipples as they flushed and hardened. A quick glance down and I realized that in his swift reaction, his razor-sharp dagger had snipped the strap of my nightie. My torn silken gown had left me exposed as my top dangled from one shoulder and revealed my supple breast under the other.
There was a moment of sheer terror inside me, followed by a poised and sensual vulnerability that kept me from covering up. I gazed at my exposed breast and brought my hand to my chest. Sliding my finger slowly across my moist skin, I gently circled my tiny pink nipple with my fingernail and looked up at him. A primal urge to seduce the hunter in a delicate dance of fear and temptation was boiling inside my heart and searing my veins as it flowed through every inch of my yearning body. He could take me or kill me at any moment, and the thrill of the unknown was burning like a furnace between my tender thighs.
“Who are you?” He sneered, releasing the tension in his arm and laying his bladed hand at his side.
I refused to answer and only responded with a sheepish grin and a slow, seductive slide of my hand. As my fingers crept southward, wrinkling the silk material of my negligee as they walked down my body in search of my fire down below, I watched him intently. Reaching the crease between my thighs, I buried my hand, sighed in lustful fervor and closed my eyes. My beseeching body welcomed my own touch as my mind raced with trepidation. I awaited his response, trusting only my own integral hope that he would recognize that my peculiar immersion into his nightmare was turning me on.
My breaths grew shallow and swift, trembling with hope as I felt the steam from below seeping through the grated platform, warming my bare toes and slithering up my legs again. The smell of sweat and steel engulfed me as I heard the sound of his knives sharpening against one another. I took a deep breath, holding it in as my chest swelled and awaited his piercing finale. Counting to three inside my mind, I expected to feel the penetrating slice of his steely knives dive into my heart as the air dissipated from my lungs and blood leaked from my body in a glorious secondary kill of the night. Instead, I heard the snip of my other strap as my cream-colored lingerie slipped over my hips and pooled around my feet.
Naked and fearfully aroused, I steadily opened my eyes to find him standing inches from my face. His breath was retched and hot and the whites of his eyes were narrow and inquisitive. He grazed my cheek with his sharp fingers, gliding them across my chin as I turned and lifted it for his study. Skimming down my neck, he waited for me to flinch or falter. I did neither. As the cold steel of his blades sunk between my breasts, I leaned toward him. Dangerously close, I shared his breath as I licked my quivering lips in preparation. I craved his kiss, his touch, his monstrous love.
“Take me,” I whispered, insisting he discover my perilous passion for him.
He skirted my puncture wound, smearing the dripping blood over my breast bone and making his way to my swollen tit. Gingerly slicing the skin just above my areola, he took delight in watching the blood trickle from the slit in my breast. As the warmth of my red life soaked my pert erect nipple, he cupped my breast firmly, lifting it in his embrace and bringing it to his mouth. His tongue snaked from his dark hollow, tasting my blood and bosom. Hesitating for a moment, he allowed the sweet taste of my iron to dance upon his palette. I hoped that my mortal flesh would be as alluring and addictive as was his hold on me. I waited, glancing down at him as my sticky locks fell over his brimmed cap.
Delighted by my delectable flavor, he savored my sweetness before devouring my breast, suckling and nibbling me in fervent haste. I arched my back and gave myself to him, forcing my tender mound inside his mouth. His deformed lips were stained with my blood as he lapped up every drop and licked my wound clean.
“I love the way you taste,” he grumbled from deep within his throat as he looked up at me.
His tongue and hand slithered down my stomach on his final decent. Kneeling between my feet, he spread my knees with his shoulders and kissed my pelvis gently. The heat from his breath grazed my hips as his dry tongue tasted the dew upon my skin. His precarious daggers slipped between my thighs, gently parting my throbbing lips with the points of his sharp fingers. His bone-chilling touch was frighteningly intoxicating; a twisted Tango of pleasure and pain as he engulfed my lady of love in his angry mouth.
I placed my hand on his hat, guiding him firmly as I thrust my pelvis forward and encouraged him to devour me. I was wet and wanton, craving his sexual energy and dangerous play. Losing myself in lust and reckless abandon, I oscillated my hips over his face, yearning for him to penetrate my swollen hollow. The cold steel of his blades cooled the scorching heat of my embrace as I slid my body down over them. Sinking his claws deep inside me to fulfill my carnal urge to be taken by him, I screamed.
The sound of my own blood-curdling shriek jarred me. Opening my eyes, I looked down to find myself back in my bed, slipped between the sheets and writhing in pain. I was no longer in the bowels of an abandoned steel plant sweltering in steam and sweat, but the stabbing torture of my loins persisted as I moaned in agony. I pulled the satin bedding aside to discover my blood-soaked negligee saturating profusely between my legs. The blood was pooling on the bed around me and my vital energy depleting rapidly.
“No, no, no,” I pleaded to no one there, panting in disbelief and conceded defeat.
I knew I had been had as his sinister laugh echoed into the night. Throwing my head hard on the pillow and clinching my sheets with the last bit of strength within my fingertips, I called out to my murderous lover in shrill desperation at the top of my lungs.
“Noooooooo!!!”
THE END
~~~~~
THE BIG BAD WOLF
As a writer, I often tend to escape into the picturesque beauty of the mountains to finish a book. I have a cabin in the north woods, tucked neatly beyond the evergreens and rippling mountain streams; far, far away from civilization and the distractions of suburban life.
I pulled around the narrow bend just as the sun was setting over the rigid peaks before me and made my final descent down the long, winding gravel road to my cabin. Parking in the front, I retrieved my overnight bag and laptop from the rear seat of my SUV and stepped out. The granules of granite crunched beneath my boots as the wind whistled through the branches of the tall trees surrounding me. I looked up and took note of the escaping sunlight, wrapping my red-hooded sweater tightly around my torso to keep warm. The cool, clean breeze of the mountainous air was brisk and refreshing, yet chilled me to the bone as it crept through the tiny holes in my knitted top. The goose pimples followed suit, sweeping across my skin wherever the wind caressed me. I shivered and smiled, gazing upon the deep green valley and falling in love with it all over again as if reuniting with a long lost lover.
The temperature was dropping swiftly and would plummet to its frosty bottom by nightfall. It was the perfect evening to light a fire in the fireplace and settle in for a warm, cozy night under a blanket of stars and the eerie glow of a brilliant full moon. As I walked through the threshold of the front door, the dust from many months’ sediment kicked up into the air; a subtle, yet telling sign that I had neglected my prized haven lately. I set my things just inside the door, turned on the porch lights and grabbed the bucket at my feet. If I hurried, I could make my way down to the stream before dark and fetch a pail of cold, mountain spring water. It made good for hot cocoa, soup or just a nice refreshing glass of ice water for my bedside table. The process of retrieving it had become more of a ritualistic habit for my stays on the mountain side, and I never settled in for a visit without it.
I followed the dirt pathway covered in abandoned pine needles and riddled with loose stones, through the endless maze of thick evergreen trunks, down the hillside as I picked up speed and dug my heels into the ground to keep from tumbling. It was mere moments before I heard rippling water cascading over the smooth stones and lime green moss of the pebbling brook in my woodland backyard. Sinking my toes into the moist edges of the stream, I lowered my bucket to fill it with rushing water. Just then, I heard a rustle from across the way. Startled, I gasped as my eyes peered beyond the trees in the distance, straining through the fading light.
“Hello?” I called out softly, confident no one else ever trekked this part of the woods.
I heard the snap of a twig; closer this time.
“Show your face!” I insisted.
I was terrified inside, yet unwilling to show my cowardice. My hope was that it was a man, rather than a bear or some other beast I harbored no weapon against. My bucket would do no harm against a rabid dog, a pack of wolves or worse yet, an angry grizzly. I trembled in my boots, frozen and awaiting the face of he who lurked beyond the trees. I watched as my breath slowly escaped my lips and dissipated into the frigid air like a sweet, swollen cloud of nervous anticipation.
The rustling of the ground grew louder and more frequent as the figure of a brawny man appeared from behind the thick brush.
“Hi,” he said coyly, running his thick fingers through his dark brown tresses.
His hair swept across his brow loosely as he smirked and shuffled through the twigs under his feet. Two dimples burrowed deep in the center of both cheeks just below his piercing green eyes. He was wearing a black and red plaid flannel and jeans that were snug enough to lift my brow impressively.
“Sorry if I startled you,” he added, waiting for me to respond.
I had been too bewildered by his presence to greet him. In all the years I had been frequenting my cabin, I had never once run into another human being.
“What are you doing here?” I inquired hastily, never changing my stance; rather, following him only with my eyes as he inched closer.
My breath grew ever shallower, unsure of what his intention may be or the level of danger he brought forth. I clinched the handle of my pail, slowly readjusting my fingers one by one for a tighter grip. In the event I may need to protect myself, it would take a surmountable rush of adrenaline and an enormous amount of strength to heave my bucket full of water in his direction. Nevertheless, I intended to be prepared.
“I’m staying just down the way,” he told me, pointing toward a rugged mountainside that I knew harbored no place of residence nearby. “I must’ve gotten lost when I went for a hike.”
He chuckled like a shy boy and donned those cute dimples again. Although smitten by his devilishly handsome looks, my eyes made their way down his body quick enough to notice that he had managed to forget his hiking boots. Just as my eyes grew narrow with suspicion, he shifted his weight and feet to the side, obstructing my view of his bare and callous toes. Swallowing hard to hide my immediate sense of peril, I forced a dogged smile. Just as I began to curtsy only by way of expression in an effort to agree and retreat, the sound of distant howling echoed through the pines, sending chills crawling up my spine. Noticeably anxious, I got to my feet in a hurry. Hesitant to turn my back toward him to return to the cabin, and equally terrified to remain where we stood as the wolves descended upon the land, I was undecided about my next move. My eyes bounced from handsome loner to the mountain side and back again.
“You should probably get back,” he said, “to your…”
He paused; his statement concluding with a gentle downward tilt of the chin and a change in octave as he questioned where I might be running off to.
“Cabin,” I answered.
“Cabin,” he repeated. “Ah, yes. Well, you should be getting back to your cabin quickly. It can get dangerous out here when the sun goes down.”
“Thanks for the warning,” I fired back somewhat sarcastically as I insinuated that he may be just as precarious as the night.
I obliged another false grin, pulled my red hood over my head and began my ascent, clutching my pail of water and intermittently peering back over my shoulder to assure that he hadn’t followed me. Keenly aware that my hood obstructed my peripheral view, I kept my eyes wide and ears acute for any sudden noises or looming danger. The wolf pack was gaining ground as the last light slipped from the hillside and an eerie fog rolled across the valley. I was panting as I climbed the steep path, my boots struggling for traction as the dirt slipped from underneath my steps and water sloshed inside my pail. My shallow breath fled my mouth in the frosty air, leaving a trail of sweet fear and swiftness as I pressed on faster with each step. Just as I reached the summit of the trail I heard a lone wolf cry behind me; a beautiful canine song from a fierce predator. I didn’t bother to look back to see how close he might be. I knew from the resonance of his howl that I had mere moments to reach safety. I hurried to the porch, stomping my feet to release the mud from my soles and quickly sought refuge in the comfort of my cabin.
I slammed the door and peered through its stained glass window pane out into the night. My breath, as well as the heat from my perspiring forehead, fogged the glass as I strained my sight beyond the yellow luminescence of the porch light in search of the beast who sauntered so close at my heels. I watched as he pranced across the drive and disappeared into the woods. With my forehead pressed against the door, I sighed deeply, releasing my anxieties into the cold air that permeated the window from the outdoors. The encounter with the wolf was a little too close for comfort.
*****
It was near two in the morning, long after a warm meal and hours of writing, when I finally slipped my glasses from my eyes and looked up from my work. Rubbing the bridge of my nose with my thumb and index finger to circulate the blood flow back through the deep indentation from my specs, I realized how easily sleep could elude me when I was writing. Propped up by the pillows on my bed, I set my laptop on the nightstand and stretched my feet out before me. It was time for bed. I undressed and slipped between the sheets, pulling the gold-beaded tassel on the lamp to turn off the light as I lay down.
The wind and wolves were howling outside as the moonlight poured through the windows and danced along the wood-paneled floor. The tall knobby bedposts cast dark shadows across the room reminding me of the dark figure in the woods earlier that evening. I began tossing and turning, writhing in sensual thoughts as I tried to clear my head and fall asleep. My mind raced with inquiries of him.
Who was he? What was he doing there? Why wasn’t he wearing any shoes?
I couldn’t help but fall back into utter disregard for his bizarre behavior and apparent lies once I remembered his dimples. I smiled to myself, a sort of sheepish grin, as I imagined what I might do to him if he were there in my bedroom at that moment. Curious to know what his body looked like beneath his flannel, I pictured peeling it off of him, pulling apart his shirt one button at a time as I revealed his taut chest, ripe nipples and rippled abdominals. The deep V of his pelvis pointed southward like an arrow to unchartered territory as I hungered to explore what rested below the waistline of his jeans. My imagination carried me away as I closed my eyes and allowed the handsome stranger to follow me into my dreams.
He was standing in the shadows against the wall, watching me as I slid my hand underneath the sheets and discovered my yearning femininity. Shifting my hips and thighs as I oscillated to the touch of my own fingers, the covers slowly began to recede to the foot of the bed, exposing my half naked body and restless writhing. He pulled the quilted blanket and sheets gently until they no longer shrouded my self-pleasure from his vantage point. Moaning, with my hand hidden inside my silk panties and pert nipples catching the moonlight just perfectly in the darkness, I rhythmically caressed my throbbing desire. He gazed upon me intently, wishing to touch me as I touched myself. His green eyes shimmered by the light of the moon as he stepped toward the bed and crawled atop the mattress where I lay whimpering in lustful leisure.
His heavy body gradually blanketed me as the hinges of the bed creaked under our combined weight. His warmth and essence lingered over my body as his smooth skin glided against mine. Holding himself up by his forearms, he leaned into me as his jeans seemed to disintegrate into thin air. His nude body laid unto me in sensual seduction; his hair falling over his eyes as he smiled sweetly. His breath was hot as he steadily inched toward my mouth, inhaling my breath through his watering lips before kissing me. I could taste him on my mouth even before our lips met. He was hungry for me. My body, wanton and willing, pleaded beneath him as he left me breathless and begging for his tongue. My pink pout parted, trembling in desperation, as he pressed his wet mouth over mine and joined my tongue in harmonious contortion.
Wrapped in his kiss, I spread my legs as he forced his body between my knees. The warmth of his manhood slipped up my thighs and burrowed deep inside my swollen embrace. I welcomed him inside and before I could catch my breath, he was fucking me. The force of his penetration jolted me, shaking me from slumber as I awoke from my dream into a puzzling haze. Somewhere between sleep and fantasy, I squinted through the darkness wondering if my eyes deceived me. The emerald green stare of the stranger from the woods lurked before me, only inches from my face. It hadn’t been a dream after all.
Startled, I tried to sit up, but he grabbed my shoulders and pressed me hard into the bed. The color of his eyes diminished rapidly from bright green to a haunting yellow as his pupils narrowed into sharp black slivers. His breath grew rank and smelled of rotten meat as he drooled over me, grumbling and growling like a dog. He was scaring me. I squirmed under his weight, but escape was no nearer. He was deep inside me, embedded between my legs as he greeted me with a deafening howl that slid on a scale from his own manly voice to a beastly crescendo.
He plunged his throbbing muscle further into my loins as he lifted his chest high into the air, arching his back and calling into the night. A thick fog rolled across the sky and blocked the light of the moon just as his face morphed before my eyes. His teeth lengthened into dripping white fangs, salivating and slobbering over me. His cheeks sunk to a narrow pout as his nose grew long and wide. I watched as his ears lifted and pointed, and his brow thickened to a distinguished upward slant that made him look grotesque and beastly. His shoulders widened as his muscles multiplied and ripped from his chest, and fingers morphed into claws. Hair sprouted from his velvety skin and his succulently plump shaft that had massaged my internal curves just moments before ripened inside me.
“Please,” I begged of him in my frail voice, terrified and quivering.
His once smooth and tender member became rigid and stiff as he forced himself harder and faster within my moistened crease. He grunted and growled as he held me down screaming, ramming himself through my wet and reluctant entry. He was growing inside me. His girth and length pushed tight against my walls, tearing my tender pinkness with each stroke. Digging his claws into my supple skin, he thrashed me around like a ragdoll, turning me over and propping me against the headboard. I dug my fingernails into the wooden dowels, holding on with what little strength I had as his callous paws slid down my waist and clawed my hips, pulling my ripe ass toward him as he drove his rigid phallus back into my sodden canal.
Fucking me like the animal he had become, he shoved hard and stroked fast, panting and clawing at me as he mounted my backside and burrowed himself to my depths. His hairy body embraced my pallid, sinuous skin from behind in a frightening dominance of canine fornication. Squealing as he penetrated me, the tears streamed down my face in the darkness as I both loathed and loved his forcefulness in a twisted Tango of pain and primal lust; animal instinctuality that was buried as deep within me as his thick and undulating cock. I felt fear and forbidden pleasure as I was helpless against the will of the werewolf.
He cried into the night as he thrust his beasthood one last vigorous time, unloading his fury into my human haven as he slashed his claws across my back, ripping open my flesh as he retreated. I gasped in painful defeat, falling to the bed in exhaustion, bleeding and torn both inside and out. I heard him breathing in a dark corner of the room, panting like a rabid dog before he let out another blood-curdling howl and disappeared. Hesitating for only a moment, I wrapped the sheet around my beaten body and crawled across the floor. Searching blindly in the dark for my bag, I fumbled inside for my cell phone. My fingers trembling as I dialed, I pressed send just before I lost consciousness.
“911, how can I help you? Hello? Hello?”
THE END
~~~~~
PSYCHO MOTEL
I found it strange that he always locked the door behind him when he left after dark, leaving me alone in the motel room of his family’s estate, unable to escape. Ours was the only room whose door locked from the outside and I thought that to be quite peculiar. I wondered if he was trying to keep me in, or something out.
There was nothing conventional about our relationship. We met one afternoon in the grocery and had been sneaking to see each other behind the back of his controlling mother ever since. Though a grown and handsome man, she seemed to have a hold on him, making him a slave to her house just up the hill from the motel where we shared our late-night lover’s trysts. I had assumed his mother’s domineering clutches were related to the family business, never questioning the reasons for his absences in the wee small hours of the night. Trusting it was Mother or possibly another weary traveler in search of sleep along the lonesome highway nearby that called him away from me, I had tolerated the strange and unusual behavior for some time. That was, until I grew uncomfortably suspicious one dark and rainy night.