Howl at the Moon

I met Moira at an outdoor outfitter’s co-op in downtown Fayetteville. I was there to buy a birthday present for my older brother, the real hiker in the family. It was my first time in the place. Moira, on the other hand, appeared to be a regular. She had on khaki shorts, a form-hugging T-shirt, a down vest, and hiking boots. Her legs were so well defined they would put any muscle-head at the gym to shame. She had waist-length hair that tapped teasingly against her ass as she browsed the cooking equipment aisle.

She caught me staring, but instead of giving me that disgusted look women use when you appear too eager, she smiled. The muscles in her face were also honed, causing sharp angles at her cheekbones and jaw line. I don’t normally go for the buffed-up aerobic type. Call it my male ego – I just prefer my women softer than I am. But something about her really turned my crank. Her tits struggled under her vest as she walked towards me.

She certainly wasn’t shy. “Hi, I’m Moira.” She looked up at me with gray-green eyes and stuck her hand out for me to shake.

At first, I stood frozen like a man facing a rottweiler. I’m not usually uncomfortable with women, but I’d never been approached so directly before. She smiled a little, and I felt my face redden.

“I-I’m sorry,” I stammered. I took her hand. “I’m Mike.”

I inhaled, trying to calm my nerves, and got a deep whiff of her earthy, musky scent. My mouth filled with saliva and I had to swallow. My cock twitched in my pants. Her scent affected me even more as we got closer. It should be bottled as an aphrodisiac, if any perfumer could duplicate it.

“I’m just in town to stock up on supplies before heading back up into the Appalachians,” she said.

I could have told her this was a virginal trip to the store for me, but I decided against it. “Are you doing some camping up there?” I asked instead.

“Yeah, I have a campsite set up.” She licked her lips seductively and cocked her head sideways to look at me beneath her thick, dark lashes. “It’s not far away. Why don’t you join me for the night?”

Now I’m an average guy. I went to college, lived in a fraternity, graduated with a degree in finance. I work like any Joe Schmoe to try and get to the top. I get my share of dates; in fact, I’m hardly ever without one. Women seem to dig my stability or my availability – I’m not sure which. But I’d never met a chick who was so brazen or nabbed my attention like this one did. I couldn’t believe I’d heard her right.

“You and me? In the woods?”

“That’s right.”

“You’re camping by yourself?”

“I’m a bit of a loner.”

“Just like that? Aren’t you worried about inviting someone you don’t know?”

“I don’t have time for male-female, `get-to-know-you’ games. Besides, I have good instincts”

“Why me?” I had to ask.

“I need some company, and you looked interested. So I asked.” She stared unblinking like she was seeing down to the bone. Even though I already had her invitation, it still felt like she was sizing me up.

She was a strong woman, and I wanted to show her I wasn’t some ninety-eight-pound weakling. I tried to meet her confidence toe-to-toe and gave her another leering look, purposefully staring at her chest. Strands of her long hair had fallen forward and were cascading over her nice-sized tits like liquid charcoal. It was the shiniest black hair I had ever seen. My pulsating dick pushed out any thought except getting naked and bumping bellies with all that magnificent hair pouring over me.

“Yeah, I think I’d like to spend the night with you.” I did my best to sound cocky. Luckily, this was Saturday and I didn’t have to be at work until Monday. “I’m going to have to grab a few things though.”

“No problem. We can meet at the BP station at the edge of town. I’ll see you in a couple of hours.” She turned to leave and then whipped back around, “It can get pretty cool at night up there. Think of something to keep us warm.” And with that she scraped her fingernails down my arm, leaving a trail of light scratch marks. She looked down at my erection, straining in my pants. She bit her lip, smiled, and turned for the door. I watched her leave. Oddly, she hadn’t made a single purchase. I glanced down at the red streaks on my arm. They made me think of carnal hieroglyphics. I wanted to growl.

I grabbed a book for my brother about twenty hiking spots to take your kids in the New River Gorge and hurried home.

I couldn’t believe I’d agreed to go camping. My family would think I was joking. I was probably the only home grown boy in the state of West Virginia that wasn’t the camping type. It wasn’t like I hadn’t camped at all. I’d been a Boy Scout, and I had hiked a couple of times with my brother before he got married and started having babies. But that had been ten years ago.

I rushed home and was ready to go in thirty minutes. I paced the floor in anticipation. I wasn’t this excited as a kid on Christmas morning. My erection had settled, but I was wired. I didn’t question what I was doing. All I could think about was Moira’s muscled thighs clenched around my hips as we rode a hard fuck.

I glanced at my watch. Minutes had slugged by. I hung around for an hour, and then decided to go and wait it out at the gas station.

Moira was already there, standing by a ten-year-old Land Cruiser with muddy tires. Her hair glistened like mirrored sequins in the late afternoon sun. She saw me in my Honda Civic and waved. I pulled in beside her and hopped out of my car.

“Do you want to drive?” I asked.

“It might be better if you have your own car, just in case things don’t work out,” she said bluntly.

I nodded. “Uh, there’s something you should know before we go.” I thought it was only fair to be upfront with her about my camping skills. “I’m not much of a camper.”

She smiled. “I know.”

“You do?”

“You’re wearing loafers.”

She spun on the heels of her boots and headed to her car, calling over her shoulder for me to follow. The seesaw sway of her hips hypnotized me. I stood glued to the spot, She climbed into her truck, and I watched the muscles in her calves bunch. Her door closed, breaking the spell, and I hustled to my car.

The drive up the gorge was a familiar one, but it never ceased to amaze me, especially in the fall. The leaves were bright orange mixed with yellow and blood red. Since joining the corporate world, this was one of the things I missed – I didn’t get to ride up the gorge as often as I liked anymore.

The drive was beautiful, but I still had a few niggling doubts. Could this be some kind of con game? What if we got all the way out here and she didn’t want to fuck? I supposed I could back out any time, turn around and drive home and forget I’d ever met her. Or I could ride it out and have a fantastic experience to remember for a lifetime. She drove ahead of me with her window down, and the wind blew her hair back like silky fingers motioning me to follow.

I decided to ride it out. After all, I had instincts too. Granted they may have been clouded with lust, but an inner voice nudged me to give it a chance.

We pulled into a parking area at the trailhead and began to unload. I had my old backpack with a change of clothes, my hiking boots, and some beer. Moira had a couple bags of groceries. I hadn’t even thought about food. Like I said, I wasn’t much of an outdoorsman. She smiled when she saw me lacing up my old boots.

“Nice boots. I guess you’re not a complete idiot,” she said.

“Would you have still wanted me to come if I was?”

She laughed out loud. She had a deep husky laugh, the kind of laugh that promised sex. Damn! This chick was a firebrand. If this turned out to be strictly a `camping’ trip, I didn’t know how I was going to keep from jumping her bones

Moira packed her groceries into her over-sized backpack. “Everything else is already up at my campsite.” She looked at me from head to toe and said, “It looks like you’re in pretty decent shape. It should only take us an hour to get there.”

I tried to keep from groaning. A trek uphill didn’t thrill me, but an hour delay was unbearable. But once we got going, something changed. I began to enjoy it. Yeah, it had a lot to do with Moira leading and having her ass as my focal point as we climbed, but it was more than that. It was exhilarating to feel the cool breeze blowing against my face and hear it rustle through the trees around us. The higher we climbed, the harder I breathed, and the warmer I became. But even that felt good. I had this weird cathartic notion that life was pumping through me, and I was connecting with nature.

I felt so euphoric that I didn’t notice when we entered a clearing until Moira spoke.

“You can lean your backpack against one of those trees.”

A small two-man tent was pitched about ten feet away from a fire pit. The pit had logs, ready to be burned, criss- crossed over it. There was a beat-up lounge chair with a sleeping bag laid over it sitting close to the fire pit. A clothesline dangled between two trees with a white T-shirt and three pairs of panties hanging on it. The panties were also white and cotton. Practical.

I ditched the backpack. Moira stowed the food in nylon bags and hung them from a tree branch.

“Can I help?” I asked.

“I’m done.” She said as she unzipped her vest. “Pretty warm for this time of year, huh?”

She took off her vest and laid it across her backpack. She wore a white T-shirt underneath, which was damp and wrinkled from her sweat. She peeled the shirt off over her head, and she was bare from the waist up. I got a solid look at two orange-sized knockers tipped with dark, puffy areola. She walked over to the clothesline, her tits bobbing like buoys, and plucked the clean shirt off the line. So Moira was the braless type. I tried not to stand with my jaw hanging open.

She pulled the shirt down over her breasts, the points of her nipples beading up against the cotton. Perspiration dripped down my back. “Yeah, it’s pretty warm.”

“Do you need a rest after the hike up, or are you hungry or something?” Moira acted as if flashing me had been a natural thing to do, but unabashed titty shows weren’t common for me.

“No, I feel great. Is there anything I can do to help?” I asked. “Get a fire going or something?”

“Got a match?” she smirked.

“Uh, no. Does this mean I’m going to have to rub two sticks together?”

“You’re in luck. I have matches.” She dug around into her pocket and threw a box of matches my way. A pile of kindling was already near the pit, and I was able to start a fire easily.

“How long have you been camping here?” I asked, admiring my handiwork. I found a stick and poked at the growing flames.

“Just a week. I’ll be moving upward after you leave.”

“Where do you live when you’re not camping?”

“Oh here and there. Mostly I like to stay outdoors. It suits me better.”

“By yourself? How do you survive?”

“I get by.” She paused and fiddled with the sleeping bag. “Occasionally, I get lonely.”

“Like now?”

“Yeah, like now.”

The wind shifted and Moira’s scent wafted over to me. It was her same intoxicating smell I remembered from the store, only a little stronger and mixed with sweat and smoke. My mouth watered. I hoped Moira was as willing to fuck as I was. There were a few minutes of silence as we both stared into the fire. I watched as the flames flicked at the larger logs. I saw a curious image in my mind, where I was in the fire and the flames were licking me. I felt perspiration on my forehead. And incredible heat in my gut.

When I turned to look at Moira again, she was spread out nude on the open sleeping bag. She stared at me, her fingers playing absently with her dark pubic hair. How could I have not seen or heard her undress? Had I dozed off? But I didn’t care enough to wonder long. Moira was nude. She was gorgeous. And she was waiting.

With the sun setting behind her and the fire burning in front of her, she was cast in an orangish glow. She stretched like a feline and her muscles rippled in a wave. I’d admired her tits earlier, but I still enjoyed a lingering look. I let my eyes trail down to the vee of her legs. Her bush was the same coal color as her hair and just as shiny.

She opened her legs as I approached. Her mound was completely covered in thick hair, but as she lifted her legs up and out, I saw through to her inner cunt. It was the deepest crimson I had ever seen, and the smell – damn! I felt dizzy with it. With every breath, I inhaled more of her aroma. I jerked my clothes off and dropped to my knees between her widened legs. Moira closed her eyes as she scraped her fingernails over her body. She scratched hard, leaving long, welted marks on her skin. She scratched down over her stomach and up the insides of her thighs. They looked like arrows, all pointing the way towards her pussy.

My throat was tight and my mouth watered. I was dying to get a taste of her snatch. And she held herself open. Small opalescent beads of moisture dotted her inner lips in a connect-the-dots line that led to her inner core. I bent closer. She radiated heat like a loaf of bread fresh from the oven, and I got my first taste.

It was hot and heady. I pressed my face up into her soft flesh and lapped her up. I was wild for it. I licked along her cunny lips like a starved man. Usually, I do a soft little A-B-C number on a woman’s pussy, to tease her. But I was too greedy. Her hole puddled with juice, and I wormed my tongue in. I couldn’t get enough.

Moira closed her legs tightly around my head and trapped me. I grabbed her hips and shoved my tongue in deeper, madly trying to get at her insides. I no longer cared if I was pleasing her, although with her hips raising and her thighs squeezing, I supposed I was. I had a bigger need – I was ravenous for the taste of her.

Her thighs clenched tightly over my ears, but I could still hear her howl as her climax approached. Her cunt tightened on my tongue and nearly jerked it out of my mouth. I’d never heard of a woman with such strong vaginal muscles! When she started to spasm, there was a gush of liquid. I swallowed and gulped and felt all her sweet juice blaze a path down the back of my throat.

Her legs relaxed their grip on my head, but I kept licking. With each swallow, I could feel my cock getting tighter and tighter, as if her juice was filling it up. I was so stiff it was uncomfortable, like a balloon about to pop. But I still licked until I’d gotten every drop. Only then did I move to fuck her.

She was tight. I pushed hard to get my cock up inside her. When I did, Moira went nuts. She wrapped her legs around my hips and began pounding her feet against my ass. She pulled me close and raked her nails down my back. Her howling was ear piercing. Her head thrashed from side to side. I tried to move, but she was the one doing the fucking. Her hips slammed up into me over and over.

She was clamped around my cock like a vise or a cock ring. I was ready to come but couldn’t because she was so tight. She pulled me closer; digging her nails deeper into my back, and then began biting my chest. The first couple of bites were tiny, and instead of hurting, they invigorated me. I pummeled into her. A couple of strokes later, her teeth clamped down below my left nipple and punctured my skin.

And then I exploded. Hot spurts of jism cannoned out of me. I nearly collapsed on top of her when the waves died down, but some how I managed to fall to the side.

“Damn, woman! You’re an animal,” I puffed out, trying to catch my breath.

“I’ve been told that before,” she whispered.

“Must be all this outdoor living.”

I looked over at Moira; she wasn’t winded in the least. There was no sheen of sweat covering her. The scratch marks she’d left on herself were all gone. If I hadn’t been a party to the fuck, by the looks of her, I could have believed it never happened.

She hopped up and walked over to a bucket sitting by a tree. The light of day was nearly gone, but I had enough firelight to see the glistening between her thighs as she bent over. She showed no sign of modesty as she rinsed herself off. I sat motionless watching the erotic show of her hand, cupping water and patting it against her hairy crotch. When she finished, she walked back to me and stood towering above me.

“Are you hungry now?” she asked.

How could she think of food at a time like this? I tried to look up at her, but I couldn’t take my eyes off of her freshly cleansed pussy. I hadn’t noticed how hairy she was. Her bush extended up nearly to her navel, and instead of kinky, tight-curled pubes, the hair was longer and sleeker. I guess outdoor life doesn’t lend itself to shaving and grooming pubic hair. “Hungry? Why do you ask?”

“I’m famished. I could eat just about anything right now.” She glanced down at my limp dick and grinned. “Well, almost anything.”

“Hey, give me a second of recovery.” Even as I was talking my dick perked up. Moira gave a throaty laugh and walked away.

“I’ll be back in a few minutes.” I blinked rapidly, and she disappeared, as if the darkness swallowed up her naked form. I shivered.

The bites on my chest began to sting. There were teeth impressions in several places that had barely broken the skin, but the bite below my left nipple was bleeding. I went to the bucket and dabbed a little water on it. It wasn’t all that bad, and I honestly felt a little pride about the bites. I had been so good that I had driven this sexy woman to biting me!

Moira was gone for a long time. With the sun down and away from the fire, I got chilly. I slipped back into my jeans and tossed on a sweatshirt. I popped open a beer, sat down in the lounge chair, and waited.

I must have dozed off because I awoke in a panic. My skin felt on fire. In my haze I assumed the campfire was out of control and I was literally engulfed in flames. Except it was dark, and when my eyes adjusted, I could see the fire dwindling down in front of me.

But my body was burning up. It felt like thousands of tiny missiles, tipped in fire, were hurling through my skin. My heart galloped, causing blood to roar through my veins. I tried to catch my breath. My clothes were constricting, no strangling me, and I ripped them off. They were wringing wet.

Nakedness only partly squelched the panic inside me. My mind was in a flurry. Images darted through my head, trying to keep pace with my rapid heartbeat. I was inundated with pictures of blood and gore. I saw torn flesh, and bare bone, and hair. And hundreds of eyes, all filled with fear. My cock was absurdly huge, jutting out like a weapon, as I scrambled around the clearing. I had to get away from the fire and the burning and the images. I ran to the bucket and poured the water over my head. Steam rose from my naked body as the cool water mixed with my hot skin. I touched my penis, but the heat from it burned my hand. I screamed, but the burning continued.

My head was pounding. I tried to slow my thinking. Was I dying? I thought I screamed again, but all I could hear was Moira’s howl as she climaxed. But it came from me, didn’t it? I was confused and sweating and breathing so hard I was panting.

“Wake up!”

I was awake, wasn’t I?

“MIKE, WAKE UP!”

I could hear Moira’s voice. She had yelled. My heart started to slow. The fire inside flickered and died out. The pictures faded. My breathing began to return to normal. I opened my eyes again. Moira stood over me.

“I think you had a nightmare.” Her gray-green eyes looked at me with concern. “Are you OK?”

“I don’t know,” I answered honestly.

“What happened?”

“I was sitting by the fire, waiting for you to come back, and I must have fallen asleep.” I sat up and realized I was nude. “How did I get naked?”

“You were naked when I left to get us something to eat.”

“Yeah, but I got dressed.” I was really confused. “I remember getting dressed,” I added weakly.

“All I know is when I got back, you were sacked out on the lounge chair. I ate and tried to wake you, but you were out. So I went to bed.” She nodded toward the tent.

I looked around, the sky was beginning to lighten. The nearly full moon was visible but translucent. In another half hour, the sun would be completely up. Had I really slept all night? I must have, there could be no other explanation. I shook my head to clear the cobwebs of confusion.

“I’m really sorry, Moira. I’ve never slept like that before. I’ve never had a nightmare like that either.”

“Don’t worry about it,” she said, shrugging her shoulders.

She straightened her body and arched in a long stretch. I hadn’t noticed Moira was naked too. Her heavy tits lifted up, and I saw the white, half-moon spots under each one – a place where the sun couldn’t shine. Her armpits were unshaven, covered in the same sleek hair that donned her pussy. Instead of being repulsed, I found it wildly enticing. And it showed.

Moira stared at my swelling cock and wiggled her eyebrows. It was all the encouragement I needed.

“C’mere,” I snarled.

I leaned back in the lounge chair, and my dick bobbed straight up. Moira moved to straddle me, using the chair arms for support. She teased the head of my cock with her spread pussy, allowing just the glans to enter, and then she let go of the chair, causing her bodyweight to drop down, impaling herself on my cock. It was a snug fit, like forcing an arm through a tight sleeve. She was wet. She was taut. She was hot. I could have come right then, but somehow, I held off.

She used her powerful legs to rise up, and then let her body slam back down. Three times she rose and dropped, and then she humped me in earnest. She swung her head, and her hair whipped against my skin like a cat-o’-nine tails. Her nails clawed into my belly. I couldn’t contain my orgasm any longer. As my semen burst from me, Moira reached down and grabbed my dick and rested it against the outside of her cunt. My dick spit cum in wave after wave against her clitoris. She threw her head back and wailed. I watched in amazement as her whole body shuddered. Through it all she maintained her position, propped up on her muscular legs.

Seconds passed. She let go of my cock and relaxed down on my lap, letting her sopping pussy nestle against my shriveling cock.

“You’re amazing!” I couldn’t keep the star-struck quality out of my voice.

“You’re pretty good, yourself,” she said as she snuggled against my chest.

I expected to feel the sting of her bite wounds or where she’d dug her nails into me, but I didn’t feel a thing.

“Careful, you might start that bite mark on my chest to bleeding again.”

“What bite mark?”

Moira rose to look at my chest. I looked down to point out the mark, only there wasn’t one. My chest was unblemished. No little tiny nips, no teeth impressions of any sort, and no spots where her fingernails had dug in my belly.

“I could’ve sworn I had a pretty deep bite under my left nipple.” I fingered my chest like I was digging in sand to uncover a treasure.

“I don’t see a thing,” Moira said.

“I can’t believe I dreamed that too. Man! This outdoor mountain air is playing tricks on my mind.” It was the only feasible explanation I could come up with, but it sounded lame even to my ears.

“Maybe you just need a good meal. Feel like eating?”

I almost gave a flippant remark, but I wasn’t quite ready for another round of sex. “Yeah, what’s for breakfast?”

“I’ll fry some eggs if you’ll go get some fresh water.”

“Sure, uh, where do I get it?”

“There’s a spring about thirty yards down that way.”

Moira pointed to a well-marked path that led away from the campsite. I slipped into my jeans and boots. I grabbed the bucket. It was empty. In my nightmare, I had emptied the bucket over my head, but that was just a dream, wasn’t it? Moira must have emptied it for some reason.

The spring was right where Moira had said it would be. The early morning sun peeked through some overhead trees and shone down against the rocks that surrounded it. Another postcard perfect scene. I decided to wash up while I was there. After the hike up here, and a couple rounds of rowdy sex, I was sure I was starting to reek.

I slipped back out of my pants and began rinsing off, cupping water like I had watched Moira do last night. The memory caused a stirring in my cock. I splattered water under my arms, down my chest, and then cupped my balls and cock to clean around them. I thought about masturbating. The desire to rub my stiffening dick was incredible. But I figured I should save it for later, with Moira. I still whacked off a couple firm strokes, just for shits and giggles. My fingers got tangled in my pubic hair.

I looked down and couldn’t believe what I saw. My pubic hair had grown to double the length that it had been! The short, kinky curls had lengthened to strands. Just like Moira’s.

I really looked at my body. I’d never had much chest hair, still didn’t, but there was a bushy path of hair that led from my navel to my dick. My underarm hair was thicker. I rubbed my face. Instead of morning stubble, I nearly had a full-grown beard. What the hell was going on? I jerked my pants back up and ran back to the camp. I wanted some answers from Moira.

But she was gone.

I searched the entire clearing, but there was no sign of her. I decided to wait for her at the campsite. There on the lounge chair, was my backpack with a note attached to it. It read:

Mike, I’m sorry to have to leave this way, but in two days, when the moon is full, you’ll understand. Moira What the hell did it mean? When the moon is full? And then it dawned on me what it might mean. But I didn’t want to believe it. I couldn’t believe it. There had to be another explanation for everything.

“MOIRA!” I yelled, but her name only echoed back at me.

I ran down the path that Moira had led us up the day before, half expecting my car to be gone. I was fast coming to the conclusion that I’d been conned.

My car was still where I had left it, but Moira’s Land Cruiser was gone.

By the time I got home, I’d wracked my brain for reasons for everything that had happened. So I’d grown a little more hair. I figured the altitude could account for that. And the bite marks were probably part of the dream I had.

There was no need to explain Moira. She was an outdoor type. Of course she would be strong, and I’d heard lots of stories from buddies about wild women. I just hadn’t met one before.

I tried to go through the day in my usual Sunday routine, but I couldn’t sit still for even a quarter of a football game. I paced the rooms, looking for things to occupy my mind. I tried reading, but ended up throwing the book across the room. I started a crossword puzzle, but shredded the paper when I couldn’t think of an answer. I rummaged through my CD’s and finally threw them against the wall when the one I wanted was missing.

Every time I was still, visions of Moira would crop into my head, and I’d get hard as a rock. Moira, changing into a T- shirt. Moira, laying spread eagle on a sleeping bag. Moira, underneath me. Moira, with her thick, black hair whipping my skin. Moira, biting me. Moira, riding me in a great fuck. Moira, howling in climax.

I jerked off my pants and grabbed my cock in a full fist. I stroked as hard and fast as I could while I thought of Moira. I stroked until I blew my wad all over my hand. But it did very little to release me from the grip Moira had on me.

I stormed through the apartment like a rabid dog. My muscles tensed and veins popped up on my skin like a relief map. What was wrong with me? I was afraid to go outside. I couldn’t call anyone. How could I explain what was going on? I grabbed Moira’s note and read it again and again. The words “full moon” jumped off the page and squeezed around my brain like a leather belt, until I couldn’t stand it any longer.

I sat down at my computer, logged on, pulled up a search engine, and typed in the word:

“Werewolf”

Part Two

“Hello.”

“Ben ...”

“Mike? Is that you? Damn Bro! What time is it?”

“It’s about six.”

“Six! In the morning? What the fuck are you calling me this early for?”

“Shh. You’ll wake your kids.”

I’d been awake all night with hundreds of thoughts speeding through my brain. For the last hour, the thought of Ben and his kids hiking up the gorge had me in a panic.

“This better be good, Mike.”

“Listen, Ben. Promise me you won’t take the kids hiking in the gorge for a while.”

“What?”

“Don’t take the kids hiking!”

“What the hell are you talking about, Mike?”

“I don’t know. I had a nightmare or something.”

“Man, go back to sleep.”

“I can’t sleep.” I wanted to shout into the phone, help! But an inner voice warned me to keep Ben out of this. I couldn’t believe how frustrated I was getting. My leg was bouncing a mile a minute. My skin itched, and the hair on my arms bristled. How hard was it to understand? “Dammit, Ben! JUST DO AS I ASK!”

“OK. OK. Calm down, Mike. Geesh!”

It took monumental effort to check the rage. A couple of deep breaths later, and I managed “Sorry. Just do as I ask, OK?”

“Sure, Mike, sure. Man, are you all right?”

“Yeah, I gotta go. Go back to sleep.”

I hung up the phone and looked around me. The floor was littered with paper, like a blanket of chilling knowledge. I’d printed off everything I could find about werewolves. The Journal of American Psychology assured it was a mental psychosis, while Shiftchangers-R-Us claimed werewolves were real, and for $8.95/month I could become a part of their exclusive club. But buried in the melee were facts about the history of lycanthropy, dating back to King Nebuchadnezzar in the Bible. Nearly every site had spelled out the manifestations: increasing violence, increasing aggression, unprovoked rages, insomnia, restlessness, and other bizarre behavior, whatever the fuck that meant. Physical symptoms like increased hair growth and the ability to heal quickly were also mentioned.

But the creepiest records were about ins and outs of killing a werewolf. It was complicated stuff. In short, its heart had to be stopped. None of the information made me feel better. The way I figured it, either I’d suddenly developed schizophrenia, or I’d soon be eating flesh by the light of the moon. Talk about your double-edged swords.

I needed to calm down. There had to be other answers. I hadn’t slept. Who could say if that was insomnia or just self-induced anxiety? Sure, I was edgy, but no sleep and reading mountains of carnage could be the cause. But I couldn’t get past the hair growth. My beard had completely filled out overnight, and my body hair was getting longer and sleeker. I needed answers, and there was only one person who had them.

“Moira.”

The bitch had me hypnotized. Like Pavlov’s dog, I salivated just by saying her name. I couldn’t believe my cock was poking at the confines of my pants, AGAIN. As I researched site after site, I’d whacked off four times through the night. I was drained and raw, but thoughts of Moira entangled my brain like her long, black hair had entangled our bodies. I yanked down my zipper and let my cock pop free. It bobbed viciously against my lower stomach. A beast of a cock. Wouldn’t I like to shove it in that hot, sweet cunt of Moira right now and smell the aroma of her used pussy where I’d fucked her all night? “Don’t bathe, Moira.” I wanted to say. “Let me smell you. Smell us.” The crudeness aroused me further.

I grabbed the strawberried skin of my shaft. It stung like hell. I thought of some lube, but it was in the bathroom and might as well have been miles away. The urgency that had held me captive all night did so again, and I pumped and dreamed of the elixir of Moira – hot and creamy. The stinging turned into fire. Pain shot through the back of my eyes as my head pounded. My forearm muscles burned with lactic acid, and still my hand worked. I forgot about everything else. Who cared? I needed to come. I was in a sexual delirium. So much so, that I didn’t hear the opening door.

“SENOR MIKE!”

Damn! Mrs. Morales, my housekeeper, stood posed with hands on hips and mouth agog. I’d forgotten this was Monday, her usual day. Normally, I’d be gone to work by now.

I should have stopped, should have covered my crotch, should have apologized, but I did none of those. I met her wide- eyed gaze and watched her surprise turn into alarm as I continued my act.

“Mrs. Morales,” I said with my mouth hanging open and drool slipping from my lip. She backed up to the wall, her hand at her throat.

I suddenly had the urge to see the mounds of nutmeg-colored skin hidden under her loose-fitting uniform. I imagined pendulous breasts with dark-tipped nipples, fleshy rolls of belly, and a black mass of pubic hair hiding fat labia and spicy pussy. I stood to walk toward her, my cock flamboyantly leading the way.

She was trembling. “Aus‚ntese de m¡!”

But I didn’t stay away. I inched my way to her.

“La Madre santa de Dios!” Her plump hand flew to make the sign of the cross. “Usted es el Diablo!”

Was I the devil? Maybe. A devil with a raging hard-on.

Mrs. Morales glanced at the door, no doubt trying to gauge the distance. When she looked back at me, her black eyes were wide with fear.

My orgasm was spontaneous. A small burst of semen landed on the floor, followed by a couple of anemic dribbles.

My cock sagged and then I realized what I’d done. Mrs. Morales had been my family’s housekeeper for ten years. What I’d done was horrific. What kind of monster was I? This wasn’t me. It wasn’t my fault.

“Go away,” I said, fumbling with my zipper.

But she didn’t leave. She walked straight to the kitchen and began to clean like nothing had happened. It was crazy, like something from the Twilight Zone. I had to get out of there. On my way out the door, I grabbed a handful of the papers littering my floor. There was only one place I could go, only one person who might understand. And I thought I just might kill her if I found her.

The drive up the gorge was interminable. I tried listening to the radio, but then a DJ would babble inanely and my fingertips ached from punching the buttons. The morning sun glared through my window, causing me to squint most of the way. I was such a mess that I nearly panicked at one point, fearing that light sensitivity was another symptom. But that was just T.V. vampires.

Two-thirds up the highway I had to take a piss. I didn’t want to wait for a rest stop, so I pulled off at the scenic overview. The road had been virtually empty so I was a little surprised to see a silver Le Baron already parked to the left. A middle-aged couple stood by the lookout railing snapping pictures. They glanced my way when I got out of my car and then continued their sightseeing. I figured they’d be leaving soon and I could do my business then. I tried to ignore them, tried not to hear what they were saying, but their voices carried right to my ears.

“C’mon, honey, ask him.”

“I don’t know, Barb. He looks a little strung out,” the man answered.

“It’s just one picture, Stu.”

They huddled for another minute. The woman leaned up close to the man’s ear and whispered something I didn’t hear, but I did see her rub down his chest and graze the bulge of his pants as she spoke. Women were such fucking manipulators.

“Excuse me, ah Sir? Would you mind taking a picture of me and my wife?”

Hell, yes I minded! I needed to take a piss. I thought of saying that but decided to take the damn picture and hope they’d leave right after.

“Yeah, whatever,” I said.

Stu and Barb suddenly became chatterers.

“We’ve never been to West Virginia before.”

“The changing leaves are beautiful.”

“Are you from around here?”

“The camera is auto focus, so don’t worry.”

Shut the fuck up, I wanted to yell, but I didn’t. But god, they were annoying.

Stu handed me the camera and I got a whiff of female. When he started to back away, I aimed the camera directly at him. “Have you been eating your wife’s pussy, Stu?” I snapped a picture.

Stu was speechless. Barb blushed from head to toe.

“Bet you like having Stu’s tongue digging in your cunt, don’t you, Barb?” She was crimson. Click. Click.

“Now listen here ...” Stu had found his voice and came at me, but he was slow and out of shape. I grabbed his arm and twisted it behind his back, amazed at my own strength.

“You wanted some fucking pictures, and you’re going to get them, Stu. Now get over there by your wife!”

Stu wasn’t a fighting man. I shoved him hard and he stumbled over to Barb. They grabbed each other and held tight, their fear bubbling around them. They were so easy, so pliable. I didn’t want to hurt them, but damn! I did want to see how far I could push them.

“You’ve got one chance to make this a good shot, Barb, or I’ll decide how it’s going to go. DO IT!”

She startled when I yelled, but she looked at me defiantly. She was smart. I could see in her face she understood that I was in charge, and there was nothing they could do about it. It only took her a minute to make her decision. She yanked down her pants and panties in one quick move. Stu didn’t even know what was happening.

“Eat me, Stu,” she said.

“BARB! My god!”

“Just do it!”

I had to hand it to her. Barb had moxie. She stood there, legs spread as wide as allowable with her pants around her ankles, and she never took her eyes off of me. Stu was at a loss.

“Just do it, Stu,” she repeated.

I could only guess at their relationship, but a second later, Stu dropped down and lifted Barb’s shirt. For a brief moment, I saw the sun shine through the gap of her thighs and glint off the light brown pubes at her apex, and then it was blocked.

Within minutes, Barb had her hands on the back of Stu’s head, forcing him tighter to her mound. Her hips rocked against his face and her face relaxed. It wouldn’t be long, and I knew it. I aimed the camera, adjusting the telephoto lens to include the oranges and reds of the trees on the mountain behind them.

Barb was quiet. Her mouth was slack. Her fingers twined into Stu’s hair and dug at his skull. Just at the moment of climax her eyes batted shut, and I snapped the picture.

“Very nice, Barb. Ever do any posing before?”

“You arrogant, bastard!”

Barb nudged Stu out of the way and jerked her pants back up. I held the camera at arms length and she rushed to get it. Stu tried to wipe his face and hide the bulge in his pants. It made me laugh, for the first time in three days.

“Get out of here, both of you. I have to take a piss.”

They scrambled to their car and sped away. I wondered if they’d be calling the police. The only real evidence was a camera with pictures of their acts. They’d never looked at my license plate as far as I could tell. And to be honest, I figured Barb enjoyed it too much to destroy the memory. And poor old Stu would do whatever she told him to. But just to be safe, I did what I came to do and got back on the road.

When I finally pulled into the parking lot where Moira and I had parked before, it was empty. I realized I’d been holding out hope that this was going to be easy. I had no plan. Moira had said she’d be moving upwards. There was no way I could hike around blindly. I’d never find her. So I decided to do the only thing I could think of – stay at the campsite and hope she’d show up.

Luckily, the few things I’d packed before were still in the backpack in my car. The trail to the campsite wasn’t as easy without Moira leading the way. I stumbled along and took a couple of wrong turns through partial clearings before I finally found where we’d stayed. Nothing had changed. Moira’s tent was still pitched, and the food bag still hung on the tree branch, but her white T-shirt was missing from the makeshift clothesline.

I kicked around the ashes in the fire pit, hoping to see a spark of fire, but it was cold. Then I remembered the matches Moira had tossed at me. Sure enough, they were still in my pants pocket. I used the remaining kindling to get the fire going and then went to get some more substantial wood.

Maybe I’d run my body to exhaustion, or maybe it was the surroundings, but I was feeling calmer. I could actually be still without feeling like my insides were crawling. The sun was still high, and sitting by the fire, I grew warm. The last thing I remembered before falling to sleep was staring into the fire and seeing Moira’s face.

– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –

I was burning up, running, faster and faster. My skin felt charred wherever clothing covered it. I ripped it off. Hurry! Faster. I tried to breathe and fire burned through my lungs. Pain seared my arms and legs. Horrible screaming blistered my eardrums. I was running, but couldn’t get away from the clawing inside of me. In the distance, ahead of me, someone panted. Breathed. Sweated. The scent was an aphrodisiac. My cock grew large. My prey grew near. Fire consumed my gut. A little more speed and it was mine. Perfection. Salvation. One quick swipe and it lay bare. One quick thrust and I was sleeved to the hilt. It fought me with muscle and brawn and clenching buttocks, and still I plunged and scratched and howled until its breath was gone and my zenith was complete. It crumpled beneath me and I feasted on shreds of flesh – still warm from life – and gnawed on muscle, bone, and tendon until my hunger abated.

– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –

“Mike.”

I was dreaming. I knew I was dreaming. I tried to wake up, but I was warm and comfortable.

“Mike, wake up.”

I could hear my name. She was calling me, but it was so warm, and I wanted to sleep. I recognized her voice, husky and soft. My eyes sprung open.

“Moira!” I was disoriented. Where was I? Was she really here? I’d had another nightmare, grizzly and violent, but I felt strangely peaceful.

“I knew you’d be here,” she said.

“What happened?”

“What do you mean?”

What did I mean? I had to think a minute. Remember a minute. I was at the campsite. I’d come here looking for Moira. I needed answers. I was suddenly wide-awake. I tried to sit up, but was tangled in the sleeping bag, and realized I was nude. When did that happen? I struggled to a sitting position, holding the sleeping bag around my body.

“What the fuck have you done to me, Moira?”

Moira shrunk back, an odd look of fear touching her features"I-I...”

“Answer me, dammit!”

“I’m trying to.”

“Try a little harder!”

“I’m not sure where to begin.”

With a force of will, I checked my rage. “Begin with telling me why you ran out of here the other day” I said.

“I was scared.”

“Of what?”

“I was scared to tell you what I know I have to tell you.” She glanced away. She no longer had the self-confidence she’d shown two days ago. For a brief moment I felt sorry for her, and then I remembered what I’d been through in those two days.

“I’ve been through hell, Moira! You have to tell me something.”

“I’m sorry, Mike. I really am. I didn’t know it would happen this way. You’ve got to believe me.” Her eyes filled with tears. “I didn’t want to hurt anyone. I was just so lonely.”

“God, just tell me, please! Am I a werewolf?” It felt ridiculous to say it aloud.

She met my eye. “I don’t know.”

I didn’t feel the same rage or frustration that I’d felt in the last couple of days, but I still wasn’t in the mood for this cat and mouse game. I unclenched my jaw. “Just tell me what you do know, Moira.”

She sat down, crossed her legs Indian-style, and stared into the dwindling fire. She was quiet, and for a moment I thought she might defy me, and then she finally spoke.

“Two years ago I went camping with a group of friends, not here, but on a ridge about sixty miles away. We met a guy who was by himself and after getting to know him a bit, we invited him to stay with us for the night.” She paused and took a deep breath. “I had sex with him. It was wild and crazy and ...” her voice trailed off.

“And?”

“And when I woke up the next day he was gone. At first, I was just hurt that he hadn’t said goodbye, but then strange things started happening.”

“Like what?”

“The day before I’d put a gash in my leg trying to stake the tent. When I woke up, it was healed.”

“Like the bites.”

“Yes, like the bites on your chest.”

“And your hair?”

“It grew out of control. Still does.”

“The rage, and the nightmares?”

“When I returned from camping, it got so bad, no could stand to be around me. Friends quit calling and coming over because I’d blow up over silly things like tracked in mud or missing gum. I was never close to my family anyway. I’d been on my own for a couple of years.”

“So you just moved into the mountains?”

“No, not at first. But when I could no longer deny what was happening, I came to the mountains to try and track down Phil.”

“Phil?”

“His name is Phil Bleddyn. That’s all I know about him.”

“You’ve never seen him since?”

“No, but six months ago I met someone who had. She was like a scared little rabbit. I tried to get her to talk to me, but she couldn’t string two sentences together. I heard they found her dead at the bottom of the gorge. Labeled it suicide.”

“I remember reading about that in the paper. Her family had had her institutionalized, but she escaped.”

“Hmm.”

We both sat quietly. I couldn’t help but think what that poor girl had gone through. I’d been living it for almost three days now. Moira had been living it for two years.

“That’s all? You don’t know anything else?

“I know how it’s transferred.” Moira looked at me with gray- green eyes full of regret. “Or I know it now.”

“Sex?”

“And the bite, I think.”

“Something I don’t understand. I remember killing, ripping a body to shreds. Why hasn’t it made the news?”

“I’m not sure if that’s real. Maybe it’s just dreaming.”

That was the first comforting thing I’d heard. There was a real possibility that the nightmares were just nightmares and not memories of real acts. Both times I’d awakened from a nightmare, I’d been naked, but I’d also been clean. Something else nagged at me.

But there was something else nagging at me. “Why did you come back, Moira?”

She didn’t hesitate. “I knew you’d be here. I knew you’d want answers. I owed you that.”

“I read everything I could get my hands on from the computer. Some of it’s in my car.”

She tilted her head, and her eyes brightened a little. “I’d like to see what you found.”

“Werewolves.” I laughed and shook my head. “Basically, lycanthropy or schizophrenia, no one knows for sure which is the truth.”

Moira shivered and for the first time I realized she was sitting in just her khaki shorts and T-shirt. My cock stirred, remembering she wore no underwear.

“What are you going to do now?” she asked.

“I don’t know.”

“Stay the night, at least?”

I didn’t know what else to do. I’d been obsessed to find her, and nearly rubbed my prick raw with thinking of her. The woman had probably damned me for life, and yet here I was getting stiff thinking about having her slide in next to me. I doubted if I could just up and walk away. So I did what any hot-blooded man would do: I unzipped my sleeping bag and invited her in.

She lifted her T-shirt over her head like I’d seen her do a thousand times in my head over the last couple of days. Her breasts jiggled on cue. She slid the shorts down over her hips and wiggled out of them. I got another close-up of her sleek, black pubic hair and the crimson treasure beneath as she bent to get in the bag. When I grabbed her ass to pull her closer, it was like ice, but her front side was warm as a toasted marshmallow as she cuddled against me.

“I did some crazy awful things thinking about you, Moira.”

“Tell me later.”

“Why not now?”

“Because right now, we’re going to fuck.”

It started out as a hardcore fuck. She opened her legs and my ravaged cock slid in between. But when I entered, and her warm, soft cunt wrapped around me like a boon, I knew it was more than fucking.

It was mating.