The magick inherent in this chamber flows to you unbidden. Power from the moonlight swells your form to bursting. You feel the urge to suddenly expel it, send it
through your kingdom to another who would savor it.
You snarl intensely as your lupine form glows, framing your furry shape in an aura of brilliant white.
You fashion it, and release it with a sensuous howl. A streaming specter of moonlight, molded into the shape of a wolf’s head, careens through the apex of the
mountain, seeking a soul to take on its image…
“You were right, Terry. It really is beautiful up here.”
Terry Lewis smiled, and leaned over to kiss his girlfriend of three years. Charlotte Robinson returned it passionately, feeling strangely turned on by the scenery.
The cool moonlit night enveloped them, two lovers lying on a blanket amidst trees and privacy.
Charlotte released her kiss. “How’d you find this place?”
Terry smirked. “Urban legend term paper I did for Sternbaum’s folklore class. I found tales about a forest where it’s always night, and always a full moon.” He
leaned back to take it in once again. “Hoowwwlllll!” His call was off-key, but it stirred echoes of more accurate sound.
Charlotte laughed as she snuggled up against him. She ran her fingers through his unbound black hair, longer than her brown locks. She frizzed up his thick goatee.
“I suppose now you’ll tell me you’ve really a werewolf, right?”
The young man’s blue eyes synched with her green pools. “Maybe I am. What do you think about that?”
She smiled broadly at the invitation; as a science fiction writer and a sculptor, respectively, she and Terry had rich imaginations. They often brought this into their
sex life, making their intimate encounters more enriching. It was liberating to be someone else; it took away their inhibitions. Terry had a vasectomy long ago, when
they agreed not to have children. That and abstinence kept them clean and sexually free. Pretending kept things lively.
“So, maybe you are a werewolf,” she whispered, rubbing her hands along his strong chest. She tugged at his shirt with one hand as he cupped a breast in his. “Are
you going to,” she licked her lips seductively, “eat me?”
Terry smiled. “No,” he growled, his voice deepening until he sounded like an animal. His hands worked her blue silk blouse free of her jeans, and he reached up
inside to feel the thin top she wore. He growled again, pulling himself to her to lick at her ear. “You will be my mate.”
Charlotte gasped as his tongue probed her ear; he always knew how to get her in the mood. She abandoned his shirt, letting it hang as she went for his belt.
Terry’s nimble fingers undid her clasp, and he peeled away her top to have flesh to touch. “I’ll make you a werewolf, like me.” He rolled a nipple between two
fingers as his zipper gave way to his lover’s motions. “Does that please you?”
“Yes,” she gasped, stroking him gently through his boxers. “I want to be your mate.”
His eight inches were freed into the dark night air, and Charlotte turned her head to kiss him deeply as she rubbed his hardness. Terry separated their lips to pull
her blouse and top away, and Charlotte sighed as her nipples stiffened in a sudden cool breeze. As Terry gripped her breast and moved to kiss her again, she
smoothly ducked and moved in to lick at his penis.
She ran her tongue along his length, kneading his testicles with one hand as the other found his own stiff nipple. “Does this please you, my mate?”
“Yes,” growled Terry, bracing himself against the dirt.
Charlotte’s motions grew more intense, as she ran larger areas of her lips along Terry’s shaft. “I want to see what you truly look like. So, while I suck this lovely
cock of yours, why don’t you turn into a werewolf for me?”
Terry nodded. “Yes. Then, you will become one.”
The girl smiled. “All my pleasure to you, my mate,” she sang, as her lips sank down onto her boyfriend’s manhood.
She sucked and bobbed along his penis as Terry closed his eyes in bliss, growling in pretend change.
Neither saw the glowing wolf’s head plummeting silently toward them.