Feb 042009

The fuckfever broke Sunday afternoon. For the first time in days, my cock was limp. My lust was sated. I could think clearly. My stomach growled. I was hungry for something other than breasts and pussy.

Bee laid beside me. She was asleep on her back. Her body bore the evidence of the weekend. Bite marks covered her tits. Rope burns decorated her wrists and ankles. Her thighs were red from our nonstop fucking. Even her lips were swollen from where I had rammed my cock into her mouth.

I had done that. I knew that her ass was purple from spanking bruises. I knew that her back was scratched all to hell. I knew that even her scalp hurt from where I had pulled her hair during sex. Every part of her was sore, and every part of her was a place I had claimed with teeth, fingers or cock.

I wasn’t sure how I felt about that. Over and over, I had forced her to beg for it, and over and over, she had consented to whatever lust I had. It was what she had wanted, and yet, looking at her mauled body, I couldn’t help thinking that maybe I should have denied it to her.

Well, that’s if I could have denied myself.

Bee awoke. A look of fear crossed her face, followed by a smile.

“I can’t fuck anymore,” she giggled.

“Yeah, me neither,” I said.

“What was it, eight times?” she said.

It was all a blur to me. “Maybe.”

She rose on one arm. Bee winced as a rug burn on her elbow bothered her. She collapsed back down.

“I think we should talk,” she said.

That was an understatement. “Oh?”

“Yeah,” she said. “I think you’re really hot, but I’m not this kind of a girl.”

Until a few days ago, I hadn’t been this kind of a guy either. I kept quiet, though.

“I guess what I am saying,” Bee said, “is that I have to focus on my classes. I need to keep my grades up, and I can’t really commit to being a submissive. I’m not a lifestyle girl. I mean, you can’t be fucking my brains out all the time, you know?”

I nodded gravely. I had no idea what she meant by “lifestyle,” but I got the “submissive” part. “I understand,” I said.

“You’re a great guy,” she said. “But … I mean … wow, you’re very powerful, you know?”

I placed a hand on one of her bite-covered breasts. “No, actually. What do you mean by powerful?”

She winced as my fingernail brushed her tender nipple. “When I first saw you, something just came over me. Maybe it’s because you’re the first real dom I have met, but my pussy just got wet when you started talking. I started thinking about what you would be like in bed. And that cologne! Oh, my God, that is such a sexy smell, I just wanted to rub my face all over you.”

Poor Bee. I wasn’t a real dom, but I know what she meant. I remember feeling that way when Eden cornered me.

“Tell me more,” I said. “Do you feel like I forced you into anything?”

“No, no, no!” she said. “Oh, my God, you have no idea! I have fantasized about this all the time! All my old boyfriends were, you know, vanilla.”

I frowned. “You mean white?”

Bee laughed. “Very funny. I meant they aren’t into kinky stuff. I feel like I have been waiting for someone like you forever.”

Someone like me? No, she didn’t want me. She wanted what I had become. And even that was conditional.

“But you don’t want to commit,” I said. My fingernail scratched a new line into her breast.

Bee moaned. “I like you,” she whined. “But I can’t just do this all the time. I have to go to school and stuff.”

I nodded and sat up. She was letting me go, but I felt relieved. I worried that whatever had happened to me was somehow controlling her mind, but hell, she had no problem telling me this was just a fling. Maybe I was the one who had lost my control, and she was the one who came along for the ride.

She got up when I started to dress. Bee got out of bed and groaned as she tried to walk. She was unsteady on her feet, which was not surprising considering how I’d fucked her tight ass twice last night.

In the living room, I saw her panties still on the floor from when I’d stripped her. I picked them up and for some reason stuffed them in my pocket. I looked for my shoes until I remembered I had come over barefoot. “Well, this is goodbye then,” I said.

She hugged me. Her body relaxed in my arms. I think the thought of my leaving was as a relief to her. “My real name is Bonnie,” she said. “I was named after my grandmother, and I hate it. Bee sounds less old-lady.”

“My real name is Dylan,” I said. “I guess I need a better alias.”

She laughed. “Will I see you at the club?”

It was my turn to laugh. “Sure,” I said. “Or maybe I’ll drop by your apartment again sometime.”

I felt her body tense up again. “OK,” she lied.

There was no goodbye kiss, but that was all right. I walked out into the cold air and headed to my apartment. My cock was no longer hard, and for the first time in days, I couldn’t smell pussy. I started to plan what I wanted to eat. I was dying for a steak or maybe some thick hamburgers.

Back in my apartment, I saw that I had five messages on my cell phone. They were all from Karen. The bitch thought I had her Shiny Toy Guns CD. Every week, the woman found something new that she thought I had. Usually I stopped what I was doing and searched for whatever she was missing. Fuck that. Halfway through the first message I deleted the rest of them.

I took some patties out of the freezer and tossed them into a frying pan. I turned the heat up high and just stood there. The sizzling meat smelled almost as delicious as pussy.

It had been a weird, wild few days, but it looked like the worst was over. Maybe Eden had given me some sort of weird nymphomaniac flu that made me so horny that I was imagining things. More likely, just having wild sex with a stranger turned on my sex drive to the point that I was able to score with a college chick. Whatever it had been, my cock was limp, my fever was gone, and I could get back to my life. Lord knows, I needed my head straight to deal with all the work I’d have piled up on Monday.

I thought about being on the train with so many working women in their little business skirts. I thought about Atlanta women with $100 haircuts just begging for my hand to twist their hair. I thought about office buildings packed with bored women looking for a thrill.

My cock got hard again.

to be continued.

  7 Responses to “Fiction: The Wolf Inside Part Four”

  1. You know, I don’t like hairy men, generally, but I wouldn’t mind running into this guy.



  2. lol, he wouldn’t mind running into you.

  3. He could have me on the weekends, but you know…I have a life during the week…

    Love this one, Shon. Just love it.

  4. lol, I really wanted to capture that feeling in BDSM where both people say “This is nice but, I got shit to do.”

  5. wow. just found you today and I’m completely overwhelmed. amazing writing. thank you so much.

  6. Poutslip- Thanks :) I’ve got years of stuff you can read.

  7. I can see that. :) The Wolf series is what’s got me. It’s smart and the power dynamic is just perfect – I’ve never read anything like it but have always wanted to. Bravo.

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