THIS IS A WEREWOLF STORY!!!! "Anything for you." He turned to me. He walked over to me and stood between my legs; he grabbed my waist and pulled me. Group Sex Stories from Juicy Sex Stories. My wife Barbara and I'd been fantasizing and talking about swinging for a good while and. Adult stories and sexual fantasies of the genre zoophilia written and published the stories that deal with the practical human paraphilic to mate or have sex with . One of them is a huge beast named Ripper and the other one is his brother.
THIS IS A WEREWOLF STORY!!!! "Anything for you." He turned to me. He walked over to me and stood between my legs; he grabbed my waist and pulled me. Group Sex Stories from Juicy Sex Stories. My wife Barbara and I'd been fantasizing and talking about swinging for a good while and. Ever since my dog broke me in, the first time, I have been a fan of fucking him whenever I could. I wasn't always able to get special time with.
Group Sex Stories from Juicy Sex Stories. My wife Barbara and I'd been fantasizing and talking about swinging for a good while and. THIS IS A WEREWOLF STORY!!!! "Anything for you." He turned to me. He walked over to me and stood between my legs; he grabbed my waist and pulled me. Ever since my dog broke me in, the first time, I have been a fan of fucking him whenever I could. I wasn't always able to get special time with.
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Happy Birthday, Emma Watson pt. Dark Horse: Who Done It? Beast Anal — Episode 2. The Final Act! Posted on May 24, by Helper.
Not that she really wanted to die, of course. She just wanted a gesture grand enough to convey the proper, stinging rebuke. It would be just as good to— The sound made every hair on her body turn upright: the call of the great cat, as loud and as bloodthirsty as ever.
Coming from…just the other side of the library door! Leona held her breath, and her heart froze. She heard the click of its claws dragging across the tiles just outside.
The whiteness of a blizzard outside blotted out all of the windows. Leona approached the doors, touching the cool brass of the knobs and turning them. It was there. Its eyes made her knees weak. They were so close that she could have counted the spots on its hide. She backed away as it came in, the whiskers around its muzzle twitching as its lips pulled back around the warning growl. She backed up until her spine was against the fireplace stones, and when there was nowhere else to go she slid to her knees.
Is this really happening, she thought? Soon she was on her back on the lion skin rug and it was standing over her, peering down. She felt the tips of its fur, soft and coarse at the same time. Its breath and the scent of blood choked her.
She gasped as its rough tongue licked her cheek. This is it, she thought. This time she would really die. She was afraid, but still pleased. It would have made a picturesque nude scene…. Without thinking, she raised her head and gave her killer a kiss. It was a small gesture, pressing her lips to its muzzle for less than a second, but it engendered a tremendous reaction.
The animal backed away, as if her kiss had been a spark from the fire. Leona sat up, afraid at first that it was about to run. But something else entirely happened: it changed. The great leopard grew smaller, and as it diminished its hide rippled and its limbs changed shape, and the spots became a constellation of freckles against tanned skin. The proud, defiant cast of its face gave away to all-too familiar features.
Only the eyes stayed the same: hard and staring and deep. Leona blinked several times, expecting him to disappear, but he remained. Of course, it was Rupin. His face glowed in the flames. She sat at his feet like a dutiful daughter, listening. I spurned lovers without a care. One of them decided to teach me a lesson. You don't know what these superstitious country folk are like. Leona, unconsciously, licked her lips. You and your father are outsiders, so you don't have the same…prejudices, as these people.
I thought you might…" He groped for words. I'm sorry to have brought you into this. She swallowed it. How you must have suffered…" He looked away. Just shame. I might have killed myself, but would the curse even end then? Or would I be a beast in my tomb, forever? It was unbearable…" "Please accept my apology anyway.
What difference does all this make? But it's all right, darling. Don't think about it. She kissed, and kissed, and kissed, and as she did she drew him up out of the chair and down onto the lion skin with her. The animal pelt felt so good against her naked back. Rupin was on top of her. Together they fumbled with her clothes. When she closed her eyes she saw the stern, calculating face of the Beast in her mind.
It was coming up on midnight and the heat was creeping down into her body. She flexed against him, again, enjoying the sensation of the fur rug on her bare back. So comforting, that feeling. And so alluring… Rupin's mouth on her mouth; Rupin's hands on her breasts; Rupin's thighs pressed against hers.
These things were solid, tangible, real. But hat the same time, in some corner of her mind where thoughts and memories became equally as real, she relived the memory of touching the Beast. Its body had been intensely hot. The Beast was made of heat. She let her hands crawl down Rupin's bare back and pushed her mouth up against his harder.
A log cracked on the fire and a single orange ember spat out, landing just next to her face. She ignored it. She remembered the delicious thrill of the Beast pinning her on this spot, and the feeling of its rough tongue on her skin.
She imagined running her hands across its flanks, feeling the rise and fall of its ribcage and the hot breaths steaming from its muzzle. She imagined splaying her hands across its hide and tracing invisible lines between its spots… "Not like this," she said out loud.
She turned so that she was up on all fours, her rear arched into the air, inviting. She had never noticed before, but Rupin's hands felt rough. Not like the hands of a pampered lord at all, really. She braced herself for what came next.
Was he hesitating? Or savoring the moment? The Beast would have done it right away. The Beast would be hard and immediate, like with the fawns. She purred. Her body flexed back and forth in front of him. Yes, this felt right. Even better when he fully mounted her, lying across her back, his hands braced on the floor, his arms running over hers, so that their bodies were locked in the same position, neither able to move without pushing against the other and driving him further and harder into her.
She pictured the Beast mounting on her this way, almost crushing her underneath it. The muscles of its inhuman frame would be as strong as steel. It was a beautiful machine, and she was caught up in it. The throbbing, insistent push of its cock deep inside her would be hard, too. Her nails raked the floor and a chorus of growls, shrieks, and squeals slipped out of her. She was going to scream, but even as she opened her mouth the Beast's jaws clamped down on the nape of her neck.
She froze; it held her like that, helpless and trapped in place while it continued having its way with her. One bite and she would die. Its claws splayed out on the floor next to her hands so small in comparison.
Could her body contain everything the Beast was putting into it? Or would she break into pieces? Her knees were sore and her arms were close to giving out, but if she let herself fall her own weight and momentum would snap her neck in the Beast's jaws, so she had to remain upright.
She pushed herself up with all her might, but it was harder and harder with all of the power of the Beast pushing, pushing, pushing her down, the muscles of its flanks flexing. Even its strength was inadequate next to its want. There was still hot blood on its breath. She loved the smell. Her fingers clawed at the furry hide of the rug. The Beast growled under its breath, and then it was spurting and filling her up. It was a surprisingly potent sensation.
It released its grip at the same time and she fell, panting in a heap. Her hips and rear stayed arched in the air so that it could continue pumping her again and again. She purred at the hot, satisfying feeling and buried her face in the floor.
The fire burned low. They stretched out on the rug, twined in each other's arms. Of course, it had been Rupin making love to her, not the Beast. But she liked to imagine it had been the other way. Maybe, on some level, it really had. But now a curious anxiety hung around her. The impression of a task left half-finished lingered but refused to take definite shape. Rupin also seemed to have more on his mind. She nestled closer to him. It's the morning of Epiphany.
You can ask me. Very well. Leona: Will you be my wife? It seemed good enough. They held onto each other a while yet. Then, almost hesitant, Leona asked, "Do you feel…different? Like a lock that's just had the key put into it. I feel—" "Your hands! When he flexed them, they both saw the claws. And now spots traveled up his arms and over his body. He tried to talk but his mouth was no longer shaped as it should be. Leona backed away, confused. She shook her head.
He dropped to all fours, an upright stance rapidly becoming impossible. Then she laughed. She didn't mean to, and she regretted it right away, but she laughed all the same. No, that's a lie: I'm not sorry.
I'm just sorry for you. I'm afraid that's all I can do. He shook out his fur and flexed his long, powerful legs and tail.
Tears welled up in his great green eyes. Leona, still naked, threw her arms around his neck and hung there, kissing them away. Smothered in furs, Leona walked the garden path with the Beast at her side. The castle doors locked behind them, never to open again.
The roses on the hedges drooped, already starting to wither in the cold. She hung a garland of them around the Beast's neck. Their fragile petals scattered across the snow. They went over the frozen river and down into the valley, away from prying eyes. And that was where they would stay. Please rate this text:. CrimsonRoses Report I think I must have ready every one of your stories by now I never realized it was the same talented writer.
You sir, is an awesoe writer, I like you already You are not logged in. Characters count:. Too much seawater. She could hear the waves breaking nearby. How had she survived? She remembered the fishing vessel and how it suddenly capsized in rough seas. The ship sank quickly. Surely he made it. In October of , I decided to go hunt deer from my tree stand, having seen a very likely spot while bird hunting earlier in the year.
I walked into the woods in the dark, and found the tree I had located. I climbed about 20 feet up and settled in to wait for a. This extreme sex story was written as an very dirty adult fantasy. The sick author does not condone the described behavior in real life! I always dreaded having to stay with my Aunt Margaret.
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