Apr 142010
 

Jennifer broke up with me. She told me that our chemistry was gone. She said we weren’t connecting on an emotional level. She said we were bad for each other.

The truth was that the beast inside of me was done with her. Without the beast to crave her, she longer wished to be craved. She had stopped becoming a whore for my cock, and that made both of us unhappy.

That is why I was downstairs at the door of the apartment below me. Jennifer had just left. I’d helped her gather her things. We had collected her shampoo, her body wash, her makeup, her six-pack of Diet Coke and her box of cookies.

Her panties had stayed with me as my rightful trophies.

I knocked on the door. I knocked hard and furiously, knowing that it would scare the woman inside. I had smelled her all day. I knew how to handle her.

Downstairs, Jennifer hadn’t even started her car. I couldn’t wait for her to leave. The beast had been denied for too long.

The door opened, and I saw the woman I had smelled. She looked flushed and was wearing a bathrobe. I had interrupted her masturbating, and now she was feeling guilt. Her cunt smelled amazing.

“You need a man,” I told her.

She blinked. She was a pretty woman with black hair, although her hair was much shorter than Jennifer’s. She had some weight on her body, which made her breasts and hips all the fuller. I caught myself comparing her to Jennifer, and I stopped myself. This woman was mine. Jennifer wasn’t.

“I am married,” the woman said. She wasn’t closing the door, though.

“I know,” I said. “I also know that your husband loves you very much and that what you wish he would do is just fuck you like a sweet little slut. I know you want to be fucked hard, preferably in the ass. I know that your husband never will, and I know that I might today if you ask me nicely.”

“Who are you?” she asked. Again, she wasn’t closing the door.

I also noticed that Jennifer hadn’t started her car. Was she debating returning?

“Dylan,” I growled. “What is your name?”

“Sheryl,” she said.

“Wrong,” I snapped. “Your name is ‘bitch.’ You’re my little ass-fucking bitch, understand?”

Sheryl swallowed. I sounded like a madman. I sounded like exactly what she wanted.

In her car, Jennifer hesitated.

I was tired of caring what women thought. No, that was wrong. I was hurt that Jennifer was leaving, and I was tired of hurting. I had known for days that this was coming. My weeks with Jennifer had been wonderful, but now it was over. I was sad, and I hated the feeling.

The beast wasn’t sad for a moment. I followed his lead.

“If you don’t invite me in right now,” I told Sheryl, “then you will have to go back to fucking your own ass.”

“Come on in,” she said.

I walked into the apartment. Sheryl started to say something, but I didn’t listen. Words hurt. I turned her around and pushed her toward the nice big recliner I saw. I couldn’t see her face, but I could smell her cunt. Sheryl was delighted.

That angered me. When I was done with her, she would go back to her life and her husband. When I was done with her, I would go back to an empty apartment.

I pushed her against the recliner. I bent her over and flipped her bathrobe over her hips. Her ass was still lubricated from when she’d penetrated it earlier.

“You are already prepared, bitch,” I growled.

“Yes,” she groaned.

My cock was out in my hands in a flash. Sheryl groaned as I slipped between her cheeks. Her ass opened for me as I completely entered her.

Down in the parking lot, I heard Jennifer’s car start. She was leaving me forever.

I growled and fucked Sheryl’s ass. She cried out at the savagery of my thrusts. I was going too fast. I was assaulting her bottom. It was not going to be pleasant for her.

But yet her cunt bloomed with desire. Being fucked too hard was exactly what she wanted. Sheryl was getting her ultimate fantasy fulfilled while I was just slaking my desire.

Oh, that pissed me off. The beast was fucking her hard, but I pushed it. I sunk my fingers into her hips and slammed her back on my cock.

Sheryl groaned, but she took everything I gave her.

I hated her. I hated her for not cooking for me. I hated her for not washing me. I hated her for not coming back home with me.

Together, the beast and I used Sheryl to satisfy our rage and our lust.

She climaxed twice. Not many women can climax with my cock in their ass, but Sheryl did easily.

I climaxed in her ass. My rage evaporated in a burst of semen. I forgot Jennifer and thought only of Sheryl and her round ass. I stopped being a damn whining bastard and became a wolf again. It felt wonderful.

I pulled out of her ass and wiped my cock on her buttocks. I was hungry. I was satisfied for the first time in days. I wanted a nice long nap.

“Oh, my god,” Sheryl whimpered. She collapsed into the chair. I could tell she wanted to speak, but she was too stunned. That was OK. I could tell by her face what she wanted.

“Don’t worry; this was a one-time thing,” I told her. “You’ll never see me again.”

Sheryl smiled. Her breathing relaxed. Her relief was clear.

I walked out the door. Because I was feeling rude, I left the door open behind me. I walked back up to my apartment and debated what to make for dinner.

For awhile, I’d thought Jennifer was the one. I’d thought I could make a future with her with or without the beast’s help. Now I think I know the truth. Jennifer just took a little longer for the beast to consume. That made her special but hardly unique.

I reached the top of the stairs and looked out over the parking lot at the city. Atlanta had millions of women. Some would take longer to fuck than others. Who knows? Maybe some would outlast Jennifer?

I howled my joy for life.

  2 Responses to “Fiction: Wolf’s Bitch Part Seven”

  1. The end of the wolf? I’m sad to see him go. Perhaps he needs a female equivalent – a clash of the titans. I can see glaciers melting and birds falling from the sky.

  2. Caramella- I am sure the Wolf will be back in another story. I do wonder about the kind of woman that could sustain his beast.

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