***...Back in Ireland with Rachel, hours after Dita and Heather's change...***
Rachel trudged through the forrest on her way back to civilization. After boarding a bus in Dingle village, she disembarked and double timed it back to her hotel. At last she exhaustedly entered the crowded lobby, walking directly to the elevator. She pressed the 'up button' and a moment later stepped inside an elevator, alone.
Arriving at floor 7, she walked down the hallway entering her room, locking the door behind her. Immediatly she reached for her cell phone, and called the number her mother had instructed her to call.
It was her mother, Brenda who answered.
"Hello? Yes…oh god how are you Rachel…wait let me put you on the speaker phone so Lisa can hear too.”
“Yeah…Um, I just got back to the hotel. Dita and Heather are both wolves now, an’ I guess they are looking for food.”
“How did the transformation go, honey?”
A pause. “Debra, both were really frightened. Heather was absolutely terrified; I spent most of the time trying to comfort her.”
“You didn’t get bitten, did you, none of their teeth broke the skin?”
“No, I was really careful about that. I gotta tell you, they really are beautiful.”
Both women smiled at this. “OK, Rachel, thank you so much for calling. Stay safe, sweetie.”
“Will do, see ya in a few days.” She hung up.
"Done at last." Rachel thought after ending the call. All of the complicated instructions she had been given by her mother regarding this nights events had been carried out to the letter. She had guided Dita and Heather to the safety of a remote location, and gotten them there on time. She had witnessed the change, and comforted her friends as they panicked. Last but not least, she had made it back to the hotel and reported the whole event to their nervous mothers back home. Rachel pondered what she would do for the next three days all by herself. Dita and Heather, unwilling werewolf women though they were, at least had each other.
Rachel had been through a lot in the past couple of weeks, discovering her mother was not only a lesbian, but a bona-fide werewolf to boot had been a shock to her system. Seeing her friends suffer the same condition was even more eye-opening. She herself could just as easily been a werewolf, had her mother's attack and infection taken place just a few months earlier. She was a sliver away from having a furry suprise of her own, her 18th birthday had passed long ago in February.
"So...how can a person have fun by themselves?" she asked aloud placing her hands on her hips. Rachel blushed, knowing full well the perverted answer to the question she had just asked herself. She was badly in need of a little 'Rachel time.' Being couped up with Dita and Heather in a small living space and one shower, this was the first opportunity Rachel had for privacy all trip. She meant to take full advantage.
Since the age of 12, almost as soon as her body started developing and her mind became 'sexually aware', Rachel had been keeping a deep dark secret of her own. She was a lesbian, and had struggled with these feelings for years. Nobody, not even her own mother, knew about her preferance for women as sexual partners. Seeing Dita and Heather naked tonight had been a secret thrill for her. Rachel had admired Dita's modelesque physique, and Heathers large breasted gracefulness in the locker room at school for years.
Rachel began undressing, excited by the promise of pleasure ahead. Her thoughts were still focused on Dita and Heather, their changes had been intense. Rachel forced herself to think less about their incredible change, and more about what had taken place between those two the night before.
She'd pretended to be sleeping as her friends experimented. Her arousal intensified as remembered how badly she wanted to join them. The only thing that stopped her: she was unsure how they'd react to her lesbian secret, and knew if she participated she would share in thier 'werewolf secret' as a result of fluid exchange.
Slipping her bra and panties off, Rachel let her mind wander, she was right back in the moment. She lay naked on the edge of the bed she slept on the night before, the moonlight outside her window the only illumination in the room. Thats how she wanted it.
In her imagination Rachel was lying between Heather and Dita as their hands ventured into all of the places she longed to be touched by a woman. She felt her moisture spread, soaking her inner walls and dripping towards her outer lips. Running her hands across her smooth skinned body, Rachel invisioned her imaginary lovers slowly developing beastial features as 'their' minstrations became more frantic. Imaginary Heather was sporting wicked fangs and tufts of fur on her arms and chest. Rachel envisioned Dita sucking on her right nipple as she pinched it and moaned loudly. Dita tilted her head to the side as she suckled, proudly displaying ears which came to points and were slowly growing longer, pushing through her hair.
Oddly enough, that really excited Rachel, and a few precious drops of her own private lube glistened on the surface of her lightly furred beaver. Although a lifelong lesbian, none of Rachels fantasies had involved werewolf girls before. Her labia was swelling, and she slowly began to massaged her quivering mound in a circular fashion. Responding to the surface stimulation, Rachel's clit began to peak out from the fleshy hood near the top of her vagina. In her mind, Heather and Dita were taking turns lapping at her crotch, and were halfway through their transformation.
Then release. Her slit began to contract furiously. Inserting her index finger, she took delight in the whole body tremors that washed over her. She panted and moaned in extasy as her 'vajingo' clenched and relaxed around her intrepid probing digit. Her whole body was tensing and relaxing in orgasm. She was breathing hard, allowing wave after wave of bliss to wash over her body, until at last it ended. It had lasted several minutes, but as Rachel basked in the afterglow she couldn't help but feel weirded out by her werewolf fantasy.
Rachel was tired now, definitly ready for bed. She cleaned up after herself, washing both hands and the spot on the bed her natural juices had dripped on. Finishing up, she stepped in front of the full length mirror, suddenly becoming aware of her nudity again. As she stated at her naked form in the mirror, she couldn't help but admire her own gorgeous figure. 'Tall for a girl' at 5'9", light brown hair in a long pony tail matched the shorter, coarser brown hairs growing over the neat folds of her womanhood. Her perky breasts had grown to something between a 'B' cup and a 'C' cup depending upon which designers bra she wore, and were topped by pinkish brown nipples,perfectly proportioned and fully erect in the cool air of the hotel room.
Rachel looked herself over admiring her tanned complexion from head to toe. "Any woman, werewolf or not...would be lucky to have me for a lover." she assured herself aloud. She was reaching for her nightgown, getting ready to turn in for the night when something in the mirror caught her eyes.
It was on the side of her palm, and it looked a little like dried blood. "Oh my God" thought Rachel, thinking back to Heather's transformation earlier that evening. "No it can't be..." Rachel rubbed her eyes, she looked again. "Still there, hmm." Her mind raced, how could this have happened? What exactly had occurred? Rachel thought back, and recalled holding Heather as she changed, comforting the terrified new werewolf. Rachel's palm had been so near Heathers mouth as she changed, and two likely possibilities formed in Rachel's brain.
Possibility one, Heather had bled on her. If this was the case, Rachel was fine. All she would have to do is wash it off, and remember to be more careful dealing with werewolves in the future. Especially new ones. "Maybe Heather bit her own tounge with her growing fangs and bled on my palm." she hoped.
The second possibility Rachel acknowledged, though it terrified her to consider, was that Heather's fangs had managed to pierce her skin. Heather had been trembling and shaking rapidly while Rachel held her. If her teeth scratched Rachel on accident, the smallest puncture may prove to be enough to infect Rachel.
Both possibilities were viable, but Rachel was confident. If Heather's fangs punctured the skin, where was the scar? No wound, no worries thought Rachel as she drifted off to sleep, still naked in her bed and blissfully unaware of the fact that even newly bitten werewolves possess regenerative abilities. If Rachel was bitten, the wound would have closed almost immediatly.