The Wolf And The Kat

This was inspired by a certain boy’s profile pic…..

The girl returned home and slumped disconsolately on her bed, kicking off her shoes – they flipping hurt! Stupid, stupid girl, getting dressed up like an idiot. It’s just not you, she thought, while rubbing the blisters on her feet. You are a failure….. Doubts filled her mind as she sat up and looked at her reflection. A pale ghost stared back; the crimson of the dress seemed to have drained her blood. Her auburn curls fell in a messy tumble over her naked shoulders.
Oh they had told her she was lovely as she entered the party, but really, they probably just wanted sex. Or so she told herself. They’d sleep with road kill if it was still warm… they tell all the girls they are pretty. You’re not pretty, you’re too tall, too daft…. Stupid dress and STUPID SHOES!
Oh God, I’m just tired; she told herself (in her best maternal inner voice) tomorrow this will seem like nothing. She lay down and the images of the night flickered and danced in the moonlight, until, fully dressed she fell into an uneasy sleep.
The hours drifted by....
And then she heard it...... a howl. Her eyes snapped open. There, in her bedroom she saw a figure…. her mind couldn’t process it, it couldn’t be real… for before her silhouetted against the startling moonlight was a werewolf, a Dibergaig.
Dream like he moved towards her. Her mind screamed ‘run’, but her body seemed frozen. A hypnotic voice soothed her; ’beautiful, beautiful,’ repeated over and over. A feeling of calm fell upon her. Her arms fell back leaving her helpless as an infant. With slow, soft movements he pushed up her dress and removed her underwear. She lay open before him now…. his rough, long tongue took a rasping lick of her…. savouring the taste. He leaned forward and she felt his hot breath, she smelt his musk. The silk of her dress seemed so smooth compared to the coarseness of his hair. She gazed at the creature’s chest, such power and strength, nothing could stop that. He was primal, a force of nature.
Then suddenly, the creature stopped and turned away, almost like he’d caught another’s scent on the air. The girl stirred, her trance broken.' **** that', she thought, grabbing the creatures head she forced his gaze towards her and he grinned, like the wolf he was…. ‘dinner time’ she said, as she pulled him down into her. Her wolf. Her lover. It was going to be a long, dirty, rough, slutty night; and she had never felt more beautiful.

When the wolf howls - he howls for her.....
lonelymrstroll lonelymrstroll
22-25, F
1 Response Jan 12, 2013

i love what you write.. there is always so much there..layers and layers of meaning...

bit like a word trifle. I love what you write too, because it is pure passion.

nope thats my kisses

God, i've got to stop now or i'm going to get icky and mushy :)

i like you icky and mushy.. especialy some of your parts..

oooo - my parts never get mushy, thank you. And I'm voting for not icky either. Lets just say..... some parts, under the right set of circumstances get 'moist'. Thats more acceptable.... moist and welcoming ......

from what ive seen moist doesn't start to cover it

*blush......shhhhhhhh........naughty troll

kisses baby

do you hear that its the sound of me howling...

when you wrote that - i was writing the email i just sent to you. my heart and my thoughts are full of you

arent they always

I would say its about 70 /30 in your favour..... does dreaming count??

very very much..

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