The copper-haired girl pressed her button nose up against the one-way glass, looking down across the lush green jungle from her lofty eyrie. She reflected that the beauty of what lay below was almost surreal, almost as surreal as the journey that had brought her here, deep into the heart of the Novo Brazilian rain-forest.
Looking out to her left, a modern facility seemed incongruous amongst the greenery. Several habitation buildings, a greenhouse, even an air-strip, control tower and hangar, containing her plane. Well, obviously not ‘her’ plane, in that it was owned by Nordic Industries, the same as the rest of the entire complex. As the Operational Manager and sole pilot based out here however, Tamara took her responsibility seriously.
Being the personal woman-servant of the CEO of Nordic Inc. also helped her sense of belonging. Alice Stallrang was quite the powerful lady to be able to create this facility from scratch and in secret, in little over a year.
Tamara’s bionic eye zeroed in on the ‘Menagerie’, a large, flat roofed one-story shed, placed off to one side of the runway. What to say about that building? It was both the problem and the solution to why they were all living out here in the first place.
Tamara had green eyes and a snub nose with a freckled face. This was in line with her curly, copper hair, cut straight off at the nape, which gave her a slightly no-nonsense look. And her pale, milky, heavily freckled skin, crisscrossed by tight strands of one of her many fish-net body stockings. A girl who loved to fly like a bird, but who bound herself up like a fish in a net. She smiled wanly to herself. Living in the heat of the jungle because of Alice’s plans probably wasn’t the best long term, for someone of her skin tone but there were certainly some perks. She could always leave whenever she wanted to, right?
She sighed, studying her own reflection in the glass. Although the scar around her eye had faded it was still visible, but you could hardly tell that her left eye wasn’t her original unless you really looked closely. Just one of those things she guessed. You play hard and you take the knocks, and who wouldn’t like having built in ‘Goggle’ glasses? Okay then, a Goggle monocle. She was still plenty attractive though, or so she hoped.
She reclined in her favorite chair, wearing only the black laced body-stocking and her standard issue indigo panties. Yes, each of the girls stationed out here had been issued with ‘Nordic Industries’ scientifically engineered latex thongs, custom designed and tailored for their owners and each in a color of their choosing. When Alice had first announced the rule, Tamara had never heard such a ridiculous idea in her life, but she had since come to appreciate the wisdom of the decision.
As the Menagerie had filled up with occupants, one had to be particularly careful not to agitate them, unintentionally, or otherwise. There was something about this location, something that awakened dark and perverse desires within any creature who entered into its orbit, including humans. Ever since she the day that she’d set foot here, life had never been the same.
Alice had told them all that the thong was designed to keep their feminine scents from arousing the other native wildlife, be it a creature, or be it Homo sapiens. Initially, they had all thought it was a prank, but then there had been the incident with Lupe and the monkeys. It had taken days to catch all the chimps again, and as for cleaning up the mess…still, they’d learned a valuable lesson, so it hadn’t been a total disaster.
And so it was that Tamara Johnson, the attractive, curvy, former top MIT scholar and air force test pilot, once of sleepy Plainview, Georgia, now found herself living here in the middle of the South American rain forest, wearing little else save for a tight indigo rubber thong, in order to keep her puffy Southern peach pure.
She giggled to herself and glanced back to her rumpled bed, where her lover lay asleep on the pillows. It had been one hell of a journey to get here and even though she questioned this reality every day, she wasn’t regretting a second of it.
After all, she would never have met her current squeeze if it hadn’t been for her piloting the fatal flight that was passing over this spot, little over a year ago.
**************
In a blink, her mind was back inside her twin-engined Embraer Phenom 100, thrilled to be piloting the little jet over the gauzy cloud-banks of South America. Behind her sat Alice, whom she was flying to Sao Petro, for an important board meeting.
The remaining seats were empty. Even Alice’s personal Russian bodyguard, Kat, (no-one called her Ekaterina), had been left behind at the head-office in Joyport, USA. However, despite the opportunity, as the trip was quite urgent and the flight short, Alice had ruled out any possibility of renewing their mile-high club membership.
Tamara turned to her boss. She never failed to be impressed by this lady. The CEO of one of the biggest multinational conglomerates in the world and yet very few people knew much about her, Tamara included. This was despite having been Alice’s key pilot, personal assistant and part-time lover for these past three years.
Alice was in her mid-thirties and Scandinavian in origin, with just the note of an accent remaining in her mid-Atlantic twang. She was consistently well-presented, professionally dressed and manicured and with a very trim and well toned body that defied her hectic life-style. Her hair was dark and curly rather than the Nordic blonde stereotype and she liked to wear it loose, tumbling down to her shoulders.
She avoided small talk at all costs and had never talked much to Tamara about her past, or how she had come to arrive in the United States. When Tamara had gently inquired or floated leading questions around Alice’s family, she had politely but expertly been rebuffed and she’d learned not to bother.
On a couple of occasions where Tamara had seen Alice worked up, her boss had joked that she had Valkyrie lineage in her blood. This was meant as a warning not to cross her, Tamara supposed, but she had rarely seen her leader completely lose her cool. On those rare occasions when she did, that Valkyrie claim had been pretty believable, as Tamara would rather have been anywhere else than in the same room.
“An hour to go, Ma’am,” she stated.
Alice nodded once. Yep, not much in the way of small talk.
“Will you be needing me this evening?”
Such a simple query, with so many permutations.
“Not tonight, Miss Johnson,” Alice responded.
Great, maybe a night spent exploring Sao Petro could be-
“I suggest you get an early one, I’ve just had news from Los Amantes. I’d like to pay the office an impromptu visit tomorrow a.m.”
Los Amantes. The Western seaboard. No rest for the-
One of the engines spluttered, coughed and expired in that order and in pretty much the time it took to read this sentence.
Alice looked up sharply, Tamara swung her attention back to her instrument panel. This was bad, but they weren’t carrying freight and she could nurse them to the nearest airport. But what was the cause? She focused, studying the panel of dials and instruments, trying to piece it together. Alice sat quietly behind her, knowing when not to distract at least.
Second later, there was another splutter. The second engine had gone the same way. This was a thousand times more bad and there had been no warning. Such an event was a million to one chance without any external interference.
Even today, Tamara still struggled to comprehend how that malfunction had happened and maybe she would never know, although a lot of her most basic assumptions had been challenged over the year since the accident.
Despite Tamara’s frantic efforts to stabilize and get the engines going again, the machine went into a shallow descent. This meant that she had to constantly lose altitude, in order to maintain the plane’s air-speed and keep them from dropping like a stone. The pilot watched the green carpet below, slowly rising through the clouds to meet her. From high above the vegetation looked almost soft and deceptively welcoming, but this was looking bad. Terminal even.
Still, there was nothing she could do. She’d never felt so helpless. She thought of her family in Plainview and her acquaintances back in Joyport and how they might never be able to confirm her demise. For out here she could see nothing but featureless, verdant moss, stretching off in all directions.
Then, off to her left she saw it, a teardrop shaped plateau, rising steeply from the surrounding jungle, tens of meters higher than everything around it and only lightly wooded on top. A landing spot! More than that, from atop it, she saw a thin plume of smoke rising into the hazy sky. Her heart leapt. Where there was life, there was certainly hope.
Alice reached forward and put a calm hand on her shoulder. As usual, she said little, but there really wasn’t anything to say.
Tamara grappled with the controls, dragging the joystick over to the left. Although sluggish, the plane responded until she was bearing directly down on the strange feature. However, they were still losing altitude quickly. The uniform green carpet was now a blur of individual trees. She quite liked the tropical hardwood in Alice’s Art-Deco styled office back home, but she wasn’t so keen on seeing it so up close here.
As the ground neared, she realized that some of the area had been cultivated into fields for crops. Although more or less flat, it was going to be once heck of a rough landing, even assuming that she could avoid the trees.
“Can you do it?” Alice asked.
“Maybe. Hell of a way to find out,” Tamara grimaced.
Alice squeezed Tamara’s shoulder but said nothing more.
They were coming in too steep, Tamara pulled back slightly, taking care not to over-correct.
The ground was coming up all too quickly. This was touch and go. The wheels bounced off the ground and the plane hopped, taking a chunk from their air speed. They were still airborne. One more go. It looked like a paddy field coming up. A water landing.
The nose dropped and before Tamara could react, the plane speared into the wet ground and went end over end several times, ending up on its roof.
All went black.
****************
Tamara’s head throbbed so badly that it felt like her skull was split into fragments. She moaned lightly and opened an eye. For long moments, she wasn’t sure where or when she was. Wherever she was, it was quite dark, although a cool breeze played across her face and ruffled her hair.
She patted herself down, checking for injuries. Nothing hurt and although there were a few scrapes, there was no blood or stickiness. Good. She felt something wet on her thighs and, panicking, placed her fingers there. She was sticky, but not from injury or fear. The crotch of her body-stocking was soaked through and sticking to her mound, which burned with an unnatural desire. Had she had a wet dream? Of all the time to get one of those!
A warm glow flickered against her legs. She tried moving them. Everything seemed attached. A fire crackled. The crash! She sat up hurriedly, fearing an imminent explosion.
A pair of eyes met hers. Not human. A loud growl cut the still air. Tamara froze in fear. Somewhere from the shadows, a female voice spoke in a strange language. The creature scowled and turned away from her, padding back into darkness.
The pilot looked up. A rocky roof hung above her, not very far away and a small wood fire was burning. Off to one side, a black archway, from where the breeze was emanating, led into the unknown outside.
There was a groan from beside of the fire. Alice sat up slowly. Her business attire was grubby and torn, but she seemed more or less intact. She gave a weak smile to Tamara and crawled over to where she lay, “I’d give you a two out of ten for that landing.”
There was a growl from the darkness, which sounded even louder in the enclosed space. “What the hell was that?” asked Alice.
Tamara pointed across the fire. A curvy, coffee colored young woman stood behind the flames. She wore only a simple brown cloth around her generous chest and a similarly plain loincloth. However, her neck sported an ornate golden choker, that the straps of the chest piece fastened onto, straining over her rounded breasts.
“Where are we?” Alice whispered.
The jungle girl nodded in satisfaction, seeing them both awake. A furry head appeared from the shadows next to her left thigh. A dog? A wolf? She wasn’t sure. Tamara groaned, holding her head. Was this what the afterlife was like?
The girl oozed with an earthy sensuality as she walked over and knelt to check on them. Strong, brown hands checked Tamara’s limbs and joints for breaks or strains. As she lay back on her elbows, a furry muzzle snuffled up against Tamara’s stomach and she felt a rough tongue give her a lick. She smiled. If this was the afterlife, it sure felt tickly.
As the woman performed similar checks on Alice, Tamara noticed another set of lupine eyes staring from the darkness. And another. She swallowed back fear. The cave was full of these creatures, whatever they were.
The tribal girl finished up checking Alice over and seemingly satisfied, she moved back to the other side of the campfire and threw on some more wood. As the flames took hold, the circle of light in the cave expanded and Tamara could make out four maned creatures of varying sizes. One was clearly larger than the other three, the alpha male, or so she guessed. Each had dog-like heads, but had the body and limbs of a human male, with masculine muscled chests. Even as she watched, their forms shifted and melted into odd wolf-like forms, but they moved in a way that was not quite convincing as actual wolves.
Tamara and Alice sat together as the girl knelt and began chanting. She hitched up her loincloth, and moved onto all fours, exposing a well-rounded rump to the night air.
The larger werewolf sniffed around the dusky woman, hunched as she was in a doggy position, her rear exposed lewdly to the air. Even in the flickering light from the fire, Tamara fancied that she could see her glinting wetness and smell the briny perfume of her lust. Horrified but not wanting to miss a second, she glanced quickly over to Alice, her boss and lover who sat beside of her. The dark-haired Valkyrie appeared transfixed. Even as Tamara watched, Alice’s right hand crept under her skirt, pressing urgently against the scarlet silk that encased her special place. A place that Tamara had visited so willingly and so often before.
Tamara looked away for a moment, trying to break the spell. She could scarcely believe that this scene was playing out before her. Even after averting her gaze, her eyes couldn’t escape it, as the dancing shadows on the cave walls showed her just what was going on.
The largest werewolf, whom she now impulsively named Shadow in her head, was already clearly semi-erect. Its strange-looking cock appeared even bigger in shadow form, projected waveringly onto the walls of the cave. The petite aviatrix gasped at the thought of what the werewolf intended, but the tribal girl showed no signs that she wasn’t equally up for this ride.
Tamara’s mind immediately wandered to what that experience would feel like. What could it be like to feel that throbbing beast cock deep inside her delicate sex? Would it hurt, or would it be the best sex that she had ever had? Or both?
Despite countless role-plays and intimate discussions over her many years spent under Alice (both managerially and literally), nothing remotely close to this scenario had ever come up between the two of them. Tamara had never even contemplated that it was possible to be attracted to such monsters and the thought disturbed her greatly.
And yet, there was Alice, lying spread before her, as she had countless times before. Her silky red panties were already dark with her juices and yanked to one side. Alice’s index finger was already sliding in and out of her shaven, crinkled puss.
Tamara’s body quaked at the thought and yet she knew that she was sliding towards the same abyss. Something felt dark and twisted in this cave, and yes, inside her too. Underneath her air-force blue flying uniform, she tended to wear very little. Flying so frequently did get a bit tedious and so she did her best to spice it up for her chief.
Typically, all that she liked to wear under her smart indigo skirt and blazer was the black stringed body-stocking. Usually she chose a size or two too small for her curves, so that her underwear bit into her tender flesh and strained tightly as it bisected the two halves of her puffy, peachy labia. One glimpse of that sight would have Alice on top of her in seconds and that tended to make their journeys more bearable. “This is why they invented autopilot,” as Alice always said.
Dressed in this manner, Tamara rocked back and forth, feeling the taut crotch of her lingerie sliding to and fro, tugging between her thick outer lips to torment her clit. God, she was so wet already. Usually it took a few minutes of Alice’s talented tongue or fingers to get her this far, but this time, it was just the thought of, what, exactly?
She looked back over to the erotic tableau in front of her. The feral girl had twisted herself so that she was positioned under Shadow, her mouth shaped into an ‘O’, her head bobbing up and down his tapered cock-tip. Tamara watched amazed, Shadow’s pale pink mottled shaft glistened in the dancing firelight. It was like nothing she’d ever seen before, a light tracery of veins giving it a weird marbled form. A slender point at the end which widened out into a solid pink shaft before it flared out again into a wide knot at the base, as big as her fist. She wondered what it tasted like. She wondered what it felt like, to have that hard shaft spearing her, to have that knot stretching her, plugging her wetness…
Ahead and to her right, Alice’s head tossed as three of her fingers now pumped and slithered within her wet pussy and Tamara caught the distinct scent of her lover’s arousal. Was she thinking the same thoughts? She must be. The redhead squirmed back and forth, the tight fabric of her body-stocking already sopping wet around her crotch. Almost in a daze, her hand reached down, her fingers tearing at the fabric to force an entry. One finger slid inside of her fat rubbery labia, which only served to raise her libido even higher. Normally she would never be so uninhibited, but normal rules did not apply here. She was slick and furnace hot already and she needed a release.
Across the cave, more glittering eyes watched the whole show. The three other male werewolves, cowed by their leader, were getting more and more restless as the smells and sights of copulation intensified.
Three others. Tamara fretted, wondering how long they would keep to themselves, given their leaders actions. She was petrified that they would long have been able to smell her arousal through the wood-smoke and yet she was unable to stop herself.
“Miss Johnson,” Alice husked, “get that sweet Southern peach of yours over here, now.” Her boss lay naked on a patch of freshly cut palm leaves near the fire, her clothes in an untidy heap beside her, save for her thong, pulled roughly aside. Her body glowed in the light from the fire, her eyes urgent, her sex gleaming.
Tamara didn’t need asking twice, she crawled over to where Alice lay and knelt over her, placing her sex above the Valkyrie’s face so that her boss could get a good view of her arousal, before lowering her mouth to plant kisses along Alice’s toned stomach. The pilot’s nostrils filled rapidly with the scent of her lovers musk, as sweet juices continued to ooze from her own plump labia. Her mouth moved lower and lower, past Alice’s belly button, to kiss across her neatly trimmed mons, tasting her matted, downy pubic hair. Tamara cupped her lovers toned buttocks and paused a moment, savoring the sight and scent of her wetness. Only for a brief time, as Alice, unable to wait any longer, grabbed Tamara’s freckled ass, her fingers hooking and tearing at her body stocking, quickly ripping a larger hole around her crotch, to fully free it.
Alice deftly pulled Tamara’s ass downward, pushing the pilot’s pulsing sex onto her mouth. Tamara gasped, wriggling but Alice was more than impatient and her lithe tongue speared into Tamara’s hole, even as her lips rubbed against her hard little clit. Tamara moaned and nibbled at Alice’s distinctively puffy, crinkled outer lips, which led her boss to open them wider, exposing her wet, dark inner labia to inspection.
Tamara moistened her red lips with her tongue, before lowering her head to suckle deeply at her employer’s most sensitive spot. Locked into a mutual ’69’ of oral pleasure, the two women’s passions rose quickly, to the exclusion of events elsewhere.
It was only when Tamara felt something wet nosing around her ass that she froze suddenly and raised her crotch up from Alice’s mouth, wriggling away from the interloper. She raised her head to see two of the werewolf pack snuffling nearer, even as she realized that a third had jammed its wet nose between her taut buttocks. She heard Alice swear and hiss at it to move, but the other two approached nearer and as they did so, Tamara’s stomach fluttered at the sight of one’s arousal, all glistening and pink in the dancing firelight.
She had no wish to get involved with them and yet it appeared that the pack had no intent of giving up its attention. “What should we do?” she hissed back to Alice, shuddering with a mixture of fear, disgust and pleasure as a bigger, warmer tongue replaced Alice’s to probe at her salty sex.
“I don’t think they’ll take no for an answer,” her boss replied. “Maybe I can distract this one.” Tamara twisted her head back to see Alice tentatively reached up one finely manicured hand to caress the silvered werewolf’s underbelly, moving nearer towards its throbbing shaft.
This werewolf seemed older than the rest, a few traces of gray fur showing its age, although no less horny than the others. Tamara decided to christen him as ‘Methuselah’, based on one of her Sunday school homilies.
The elder werewolf stopped paying attention to Tamara, seemingly fully preoccupied with the sensations below. Alice ran her finger-nails along the length of his mottled werewolf-shaft and the beast shuddered with pleasure, hips jerking as she did so.
“How is that helping?” hissed Tamara, turning back just in time for her face to bump against the dangling shaft of one of the pair of werewolves before her.
This one let out a low growl, its shaft stiffening, only inches away from her face. “Oh, bless his heart”, she thought, “he’s giving me an eyeful, but what else does he want to fill?” She considered Alice’s plan, desperate for an alternative. The werewolf pressed closer to her, its dick pressing into her nose. She winced at the strong, unpleasant odor of it.
She instinctively pulled back but the werewolf persistently pushed forward, filling her view with its sex. Her head was swimming. “Urgh,” Tamara quickly reached up and gripped its shaft, to prevent it from pushing any nearer. The werewolf panted hard as her hand closed around its shaft, rubbing back and forth. It was warmer than she had expected and smoother too.
“What now?” she hissed, twisting back to Alice. Her toned lover already lay on her back, holding Methuselah in one hand as she slowly moved it back and forth in time with her other hand, which was frigging away at her crotch. The creature seemed transfixed, happy to stand there in the glimmering firelight whilst Alice satisfied both of their appetites.
“Lord have mercy,” cursed Tamara, “really?!” She noticed that the werewolf that she held was missing a part of its ear. ‘One-Ear’ growled softly at her, as it looked at its companions. “I guess that you are missing out a bit.”
She moved her hand slowly up and down the length of its shaft. The werewolf let out a tremble as she did so. Such a powerful creature and yet she had it in the palm of her hand. She found that the feeling of being in control was quite an aphrodisiac, her pussy was fluttering wetly at the utter shamelessness of the situation. Alice was groaning behind her, her breath hot against Tamara’s plump peach as she entertained the oldest looking werewolf.
Tamara carried on stroking One-Ear’s shaft. Lying on her back as she was, Alice was missing out on the view over on the other side of the fire. The dusky girl was bent in supplication to Shadow. How on Earth was she going to be able to accommodate that monstrous shaft?
Tamara blinked, not sure that she was seeing things correctly, but the local girl’s sex seemed to almost shift and move with the flames. Tamara was not overly familiar with wolven sexual organs, nor indeed with any other species bar her own, but in this light it seemed as though this tribal girl’s crotch had transformed into animal form to better accommodate her lover. What was this place? Was she dreaming?
Another snout nudged her in the ribs, breaking her train of thought. This werewolf was smaller than all of the rest and somewhat more shy. Tamara knew how he felt, this situation was becoming pretty overwhelming for all of them. Given that he was the only one left unnamed, she found the first name that came to mind.
“Come here, Tiny,” she murmured, reaching out her left hand to touch his sheath. She stroked at the warm fur, feeling it swelling beneath her touch, as her right hand continued to work away at One-Ear.
Before long, another pinkish-white stick was poking forth from Tiny’s underbelly, rapidly stiffening up into a throbbing rod. This one felt even bigger and heavier in her left hand than that of One-Ear. “Wow, looks like I might have to rename you already,” Tamara husked, stroking both of her hands gently up and down the two lengths.
A loud moan in front called her attention back to the erotic tableau over the fire. Shadow was fully mounted across the jungle girl’s back, its large pink rod ramming in and out of her strangely animalistic sex. The sight, sound and smell within the cave was almost overwhelming her, even before she felt a familiar tongue delve back into her juicy sex.
“Mmm, such a juicy peach today,” Alice mumbled before renewing her attack. Tamara felt waves of desire and pleasure throughout her body, her mind almost detached from the sins of the physical that engulfed her. Glancing back, Alice’s face was now buried under Tamara’s ass, her sex pushing down on to her boss as she received such a pussy worshipping from her.
The Valkyrie’s right hand was wedged between her thighs, kneading at her crinkled pussy, whilst her left worked away at her werewolf’s throbbing, veiny stick. Surrounded by such sights, it was quickly becoming too much for the horny pilot. Tamara needed a release, and fast, or her mind felt like it might break.
She increased the movements of her hands. One-Ear and Tiny faced her, Tiny on the left, One-Ear on the right. One-Ear let out a pleasurable howl and a little spurt of pre-cum shot forth and splashed against her hair and upper back. Trickles of it ran down his flagging shaft. She smeared the slippery liquid over her palm, meaning that she could increase the pace somewhat and soon One-Ear had stiffened up again.
She released Tiny for a second and held her left hand in front of One-Ear’s cum-slot. Another jet of liquid promptly fired into her palm and she gathered as much as possible, then smeared it along Tiny’s warm, dry shaft. The smallest werewolf squirmed under the attention. “Hope you don’t mind, boy. Sharing is caring.”
Tiny certainly didn’t seem to mind, as Tamara felt his shaft getting harder and fatter as her wrist speed increased, gliding across his flesh. She could feel waves of pleasure rising up from her nethers, her boss/lover was still paying extremely close attention to her plump mound.
The pilot felt completely wanton. She wanted this and nothing else, she knew she was going to cum harder than she ever had before. Naked on her knees in a warm cave in heaven knows where, with her boss eating her out expertly, a mysterious girl getting the fuck of her life from an alpha werewolf and with a whole other pack of horny werewolves to jack off. None of this seemed very real, but at the same time it was the most alive that she’d ever felt.
“Give it to me, boys,” she whispered, hands moving faster and faster, until One-Ear stiffened, releasing a high-pitched whine. His knot jerked and a jet of watery doggy seed spurted violently forth, his hot jism splashing down her right side. She bent lower, feeling a second spurt down the length of her back, and another.
One-Ear seemed momentarily exhausted, so she switched her right hand over to Tiny, who seemed to need a little more coaxing. She gently grasped at his dark red knot, squeezing and releasing as her left hand continued to work at his shaft.
Meantime, One-Ear’s cooling doggy-seed trickled slowly down the arch of her spine and into the tight crack between the smooth curves of her firm, freckled ass.
Below her Alice gasped, as her tongue met the first drops of animal sperm arriving at their destination. Tamara heard Methuselah grunt behind her and more spurts of warm seed splattered over her ass cheeks and (she assumed) Alice’s upturned face.
Her boss groaned underneath Tamara’s ass, her visage was indeed coated in fresh, stinking werewolf seed, and she redoubled her efforts, sucking each of Tamara’s outer labia into her cummy mouth in turn.
It wasn’t long before Tamara felt the final wave rising, knowing it was going to be big. She squeezed on Tiny’s dick, “Don’t let me down big boy, show me what you’re made of.”
Her left hand was a blur now, her mouth open in passion, fully focused on getting herself to the finishing line. She ground her hips down on to Alice’s face, working her hard clit against her boss’ nose. Not long now…
Tiny’s face was close to hers now, panting heavily. The pilot met the werewolf’s gaze, realizing that she was panting almost as hard. The werewolf trembled as she squeezed his knot harder, just hard enough to trigger him into a massive orgasm. Sprays of watery cum shot forth from his underbelly, hitting her in the chest and splattering over Alice’s pussy. Underneath her, Alice arched her back, the raven-haired cougar moaned into Tamara’s depths, tongue lashing and biting at her plump, juicy peach.
Tamara exploded, her pent up lust released in waves of passion, lady-cum flowing freely over Alice’s face. Her head swam and she collapsed forward over her friend’s legs, with Tiny still spurting small jets of his cum across Tamara’s back as she writhed in unbound pleasure.
Tamara lay prone on the dry straw, her body heaving still as the waves of her lust slowly subsided. She found the presence of mind to swing her dripping ass from over Alice, hearing her boss gasping at clear air as she was freed from the grip of Tamara’s thighs.
Tamara turned and lay with Alice, their eyes meeting. Both had recovered slightly from their sexual exertions and there was a sense of embarrassment as their eyes met. But seeing the curves of her lover gleaming in the warm firelight quickly took her mind from that. Alice crooked a hand around Tamara’s head and drew her down for a passionate kiss. Tamara could taste the semen on her lips. They were in this together.
The three werewolves silently snuggled around the hugging couple, forming a furry wall around them. A strange atmosphere enveloped her, the scent of the werewolves and of her lover, the sounds of the strange girl, still rutting away on the other side of the fire. Tamara’s eyes flickered closed.
*************
The night was filled with even wilder dreams and fantasies; a black unicorn; a hooded woman; a tentacled sea monster; an exotic Indian dancer; an army of Jaguar-men; tusks and hooves under a burning sun; fires burning inside a mysterious temple. Sights and sounds, smells and touch, yet unknown and unexperienced. Exhausted, Tamara slept well, but woke with a warm patch betwixt her nethers and Tiny’s tongue exploring it. She groaned and roughly pushed the werewolf’s head away. Here they were, lying in a basic bed of straw and leaves, in a cramped reddish rock cave.
Mysterious white symbols were etched into the rear wall, above a crude depiction of a stick werewolf and woman in the act of love. So, the events of last night had been no dream at least. However, of the mystery lady or the other three wolves, there was no sign.
The fire was burned down to its embers and the morning breeze stirred the fine hairs on her naked skin.
Tiny shook his pelt and trotted off towards the cave entrance.
With a sudden shock, Tamara realized that they had no idea where they were or what to do next. This odd werewolf was her only connection with this strange new world.
“Hey!”
Alice stirred on the ground, bleary-eyed. She hurriedly sat up as Tiny trotted outside and out of sight.
“Hey!”, Tamara ran after the slender werewolf, her bare feet slapping on the cool stone floor but as she stood at the entrance, there was no sign of Tiny either.
Crestfallen, she trudged back to Alice. Alice pulled a face as she studied her pilot closely. “By the Halls of Valhalla, do I look like you?”
Tamara cast her gaze over Alice, the internationally famous, jet-setting executive of Nordic Industries. Her long curly hair was matted, her face caked in dried werewolf semen.
“Worse” she said.
###THE END###
CONTINUED IN
THE FORBIDDEN FUR SAGA: PART 2
‘GAZE OF THE WEREWOLF’