accident. My father’s sister had not liked me. “You watch
yourself,” she’d said more than once but I never knew what she was
talking about. I was a good girl. Perfect school grades, not a
twinge of trouble in my record, no surly teenage boys sniffing
around. She was a miserable woman anyway. Her husband evidently
thought so too because he ran off with a buxom neighbor strangely
named Twiddly. I had escaped to the other side of country as soon
as it was legally feasible.
I tossed my clothes off and stared critically
at myself in the bathroom vanity. I was a little bigger than a
woman my height ought to be, but my skin was smooth, my face clear
and pleasant. I unhooked my bra and unleashed peachy tubular
breasts. There must be a man somewhere eager to appreciate this.
Perhaps Liza was right. I should go shopping tomorrow to find
whatever tit-bearing tops my meager budget would allow. I sighed
and let my hand travel south. I would get myself ready for a romp
with Max. It would be the most excitement I would see anytime soon.
After I enjoyed the guilty glow of an artificial orgasm I would
settle in front of the television with Ben and Jerry.
I frowned. The slow swirl of inner pleasure
wasn’t coming. I felt too distracted, uneasy. Perhaps it was the
loneliness which plagued me in the bar. Maybe it was the creepy
walk home. Whatever the reason, I couldn’t concentrate. I gave up,
throwing on a large t-shirt. It barely covered my ass, but who was
there to see?
I surveyed the living room restlessly. The
worn red futon seemed depressed. I felt stifled suddenly by the
smallness of my life. I opened the latch to the sliding glass door
and stepped out onto the shallow balcony.
The night was cool. The silver light of the
moon played upon the courtyard. In the community pool a barely
discernible male/female pretzel was locked in a pose of wet
ecstasy. I stared. Would this be my life?? Casting sneaky glances
at the pleasure of others before bringing myself to a forlorn
climax?
I closed my eyes and imagined strong fingers
undressing me. They explored my honeyed depths before my legs were
spread to welcome that engorged organ which required satisfaction
in a tight wet place. Even as I pictured it and could nearly feel
it I was terrified such delights would never be mine. I had one
more year of law school and then what? Likely some dismal grueling
position in a corporate hellhole. So I tried to console myself with
the possibilities. A late night working on a brief with virile
coworkers in rumpled suits…. Perhaps there would be conference
table begging to be used in an unconventional way. Perhaps no words
needed to be spoke and he (or they; I was generous) would sense my
ripe need and bend me over that conference table. There would be
neckties to play with, orifices to abuse. I didn’t want some
dullard’s hand under my shirt in a seedy bar.
I wanted something else.
My musings had brought me to the point where
Max would be welcome. I was about to retreat indoors when the close
weight of a dark shape made me gasp. There, having launched himself
onto my narrow second story balcony, was a large grey wolf. His
amber eyes glowed. He was so close I could nearly feel the bristle
of his fur. The sight was so astonishing that for a moment I did
not move. I opened my throat for a scream but a rough hand sealed
my mouth.
“Don’t,” a low voice warned.
The face peering into mine wore a grizzled
shadow but was definitely the face of a man. And the hand clamped
over my mouth was nothing more than that, a hand. My eyes shifted.
Where was the wolf? Was I dreaming? Was I high on some unknown drug
furtively slipped into my drink?
Slowly the stranger relaxed his hand. I could
see his form in the moonlight. He was large, muscular. And naked.
Almost involuntarily my gaze shifted down, past his spectacular
abs, down further to where that enormous part of him swung between
his legs. I became suddenly conscious of the fact that I was
yourself,” she’d said more than once but I never knew what she was
talking about. I was a good girl. Perfect school grades, not a
twinge of trouble in my record, no surly teenage boys sniffing
around. She was a miserable woman anyway. Her husband evidently
thought so too because he ran off with a buxom neighbor strangely
named Twiddly. I had escaped to the other side of country as soon
as it was legally feasible.
I tossed my clothes off and stared critically
at myself in the bathroom vanity. I was a little bigger than a
woman my height ought to be, but my skin was smooth, my face clear
and pleasant. I unhooked my bra and unleashed peachy tubular
breasts. There must be a man somewhere eager to appreciate this.
Perhaps Liza was right. I should go shopping tomorrow to find
whatever tit-bearing tops my meager budget would allow. I sighed
and let my hand travel south. I would get myself ready for a romp
with Max. It would be the most excitement I would see anytime soon.
After I enjoyed the guilty glow of an artificial orgasm I would
settle in front of the television with Ben and Jerry.
I frowned. The slow swirl of inner pleasure
wasn’t coming. I felt too distracted, uneasy. Perhaps it was the
loneliness which plagued me in the bar. Maybe it was the creepy
walk home. Whatever the reason, I couldn’t concentrate. I gave up,
throwing on a large t-shirt. It barely covered my ass, but who was
there to see?
I surveyed the living room restlessly. The
worn red futon seemed depressed. I felt stifled suddenly by the
smallness of my life. I opened the latch to the sliding glass door
and stepped out onto the shallow balcony.
The night was cool. The silver light of the
moon played upon the courtyard. In the community pool a barely
discernible male/female pretzel was locked in a pose of wet
ecstasy. I stared. Would this be my life?? Casting sneaky glances
at the pleasure of others before bringing myself to a forlorn
climax?
I closed my eyes and imagined strong fingers
undressing me. They explored my honeyed depths before my legs were
spread to welcome that engorged organ which required satisfaction
in a tight wet place. Even as I pictured it and could nearly feel
it I was terrified such delights would never be mine. I had one
more year of law school and then what? Likely some dismal grueling
position in a corporate hellhole. So I tried to console myself with
the possibilities. A late night working on a brief with virile
coworkers in rumpled suits…. Perhaps there would be conference
table begging to be used in an unconventional way. Perhaps no words
needed to be spoke and he (or they; I was generous) would sense my
ripe need and bend me over that conference table. There would be
neckties to play with, orifices to abuse. I didn’t want some
dullard’s hand under my shirt in a seedy bar.
I wanted something else.
My musings had brought me to the point where
Max would be welcome. I was about to retreat indoors when the close
weight of a dark shape made me gasp. There, having launched himself
onto my narrow second story balcony, was a large grey wolf. His
amber eyes glowed. He was so close I could nearly feel the bristle
of his fur. The sight was so astonishing that for a moment I did
not move. I opened my throat for a scream but a rough hand sealed
my mouth.
“Don’t,” a low voice warned.
The face peering into mine wore a grizzled
shadow but was definitely the face of a man. And the hand clamped
over my mouth was nothing more than that, a hand. My eyes shifted.
Where was the wolf? Was I dreaming? Was I high on some unknown drug
furtively slipped into my drink?
Slowly the stranger relaxed his hand. I could
see his form in the moonlight. He was large, muscular. And naked.
Almost involuntarily my gaze shifted down, past his spectacular
abs, down further to where that enormous part of him swung between
his legs. I became suddenly conscious of the fact that I was
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