Excessica Anthology BOX SET Winter (56 page)

"Yes,"
I whispered, spreading my legs a little.

He
moaned at my response and slid his fingers into me, pumping them slowly in and
out while he continued with his tongue, making me wet with his saliva. I closed
my eyes, letting out a few whimpers and sighs, and he increased his pace, his
fingers thrusting deeper, his tongue focused on my clit. It seemed to go on
forever, his mouth and the wet sound between my legs, and I was getting lost in
it

"Oh
God," I whispered, feeling him suck my clit between his lips, his tongue
moving back and forth over my flesh. "Please.”

My
body conspired against me and the pleasure came unbidden, a delicious tension,
building up, becoming more and more urgent. I whimpered my frustration and
humiliation against the hood of the car, squirming in an effort to make it all
end.

"Do
you like that?" he murmured against my pussy, his fingers slowing a
little. "Do you want me to continue?

My
pussy betrayed me, throbbing under the attention of his mouth, aching for more.

"Yes,"
I whispered, arching my back.

He
sank back into me with a groan, burying his face between my legs, licking and
sucking and nuzzling the soft flesh there until I was writhing with the sweet
torture of it. He was relentless, staying right with my clit, licking it with
faster and harder strokes.

"Ohhhh!"
It happened so fast I hardly had time to feel it coming. I shuddered with my
climax, his hands gripping my ass as I came, his tongue still working until I
was spent, weak and trembling.

I
could barely stand when he pulled me off the hood of the car, and was almost
grateful that he pressed me to my knees. I looked up at him as he unzipped,
sliding his uniform pants down and pulling his cock out of his shorts. It was
big and hard and pointing right at me.

"Open
your mouth," he instructed, easing the wet head past my lips.

I
whimpered but complied, shifting my weight, small rocks in the dirt biting at
my knees.

He
groaned as I took the length of him, grabbing my hair and pulling me in closer.
I gagged, choking as the tip of his cock touched the back of my throat. He slid
out but then shoved back in again, moving even deeper this time, making me feel
like I was drowning in his flesh.

"Suck
it," he growled, looking down at me.

His
eyes were dark with lust as he watched himself disappearing into my mouth. I
worked my lips and tongue up and down his length, and since my hands were still
restrained behind my back, they were no help at all. I just had my mouth, a
hot, wet cavity I used to swallow him again and again until he was moaning and
thrusting and grabbing the sides of my head

I
had my eyes closed for a long time, just taking him in, letting him use my
mouth for his pleasure. When he slowed a little, breathless and groaning, I
opened my eyes and saw the butt of his gun above the holster at my eye-level.

I'd
never seen a gun, and the sight of it in his belt shocked me. I shivered,
feeling goosebumps rising on my arms. When I looked up at him, I saw he was
still panting, eyes half-closed, the red and blue of the flashers making
alternating patterns across the hard line of his jaw

"Up,"
he growled, tugging at my hair. I tried to stand, finding it too difficult with
my hands cuffed behind my back.

"I
can't," I whispered.

He
grunted, bending down and reaching an arm under one of mine, yanking me upward.
I stumbled, gasping, as he pressed me toward the car, his mouth covering mine.

The
kiss was rough, hard, his tongue forcing its way in past my teeth. His cock was
steel heat between us, burning against my belly even through the fabric of my
dress, and I could feel his badge pressing against my breast, flattening my
nipple.

I
moaned when he cupped my breasts, thumbing their tips as he shoved his thigh
between mine.

"Bend
over." He turned me around and pushed me toward the front of the car. I
felt his hands shoving my dress up again as he forced me to bend over the hood,
his fingers slipping between my wet flesh. I stared off into the fields, seeing
the light of a house far, far off in the distance. It looked so small and
alone.

He
pressed against me, his cock pointing upward and resting against the crack of
my ass as he leaned over me, his hands searching for my breasts again under my
dress. He pushed it all the way up now, and I gasped at the cool metal surface
of the car under my body

His
belt dug into my flesh and his cock brushed my fingertips where my hands were
still bound. He fondled my breasts, tugging at my nipples, making me squirm and
gasp. I grabbed the tip of him with my hand when he pushed forward, squeezing,
and he groaned

"Ahhh,
that's good," he murmured, thrusting into my closed fist. I grabbed him
with my other hand, too, making a tunnel for him to push into and he did with a
grunt, fucking my cuffed hands

His
big palms slid down my body, over my ribs and hips, searching out my pussy
again.
I'm wet from his mouth,
I told myself, knowing the juice flowing
down my thighs wasn't just saliva.

He
moved back a little, spreading my legs with his hands, using his fingertip to
find me, and then pressed the head of his cock there. I gasped at the thick
heat of him, spreading me wide as he slid in, using my hips to give him some
leverage.

"Oh,
god," I whispered, closing my eyes against it, helpless to stop it. I
rocked with the weight of him as he fucked me, my hands still trapped behind,
brushing his belly and belt as he moved. My treacherous pussy was singing, the
wet squelch filling the night as he slammed into me, searching for the deepest
point and rubbing there.

"Please!"
I was begging, but I didn't know if I was pleading for him to cease or persist.
My head said one thing, but my body was lost in the sensation, submitting to
the blissful swell of it between my legs.

He
grunted as he drove himself into me and ground against my ass, pulling the
round rise of my cheeks into the saddle of his hips. I was breathing hard, a
slick sheen of sweat beading on me, making the air even cooler against my skin.
My pussy was swollen and pulsing around the stiff length of him, and I squeezed
as hard as I could, making him groan and press deep, his fingers clenching me.

"No,
oh, god!" I cried out when he began again, using his legs to push into me
at an angle, aiming his cock toward the stars and seeking my center. He was
growling and moaning, lifting my hips off the hood of the car with every
thrust, jarring my teeth. His fingers slipped between my legs, searching out my
clit and rubbing, bringing me closer to that edge.

"Please,
no," I begged, my body taking over, forcing me to sail toward a pulsing
release which coiled, waiting to spring, between my legs. He was teasing it
out, bit by bit, fucking me so hard I couldn't catch my breath. I reached a
point of no-return, my ass clenching, my thighs trembling, my slick body
twisting against the hood of the car.

I
groaned, feeling the first tremors moving through me, an exquisite pulse
between my thighs, gripping and releasing his cock with every flutter. He held
me, never stopping, giving me more and more, taking me deeper, forcing every
last quiver and moan from my body.

Only
then did he slide his cock out of me, pulling me down to my knees on the dirt,
and forcing the slick length of his flesh down my throat.

"Swallow,"
he growled, sending the first hot blast against my soft palate, following that
with another jet of white hot fluid, and then another, filling my mouth,
forcing me to swallow the copious amounts of cum spurting over my tongue. He
groaned, grabbing my hair and jerking against me with every thick burst as he
erupted into my throat.

Spent,
he pulled himself from my mouth, and I watched as he zipped himself up,
tucking, straightening. I was shaking, looking up at him, wondering what was
next. Part of my brain was screaming at me to run, as far and as fast as I
could, because he was never going to let me leave.

"Officer,"
I whispered, struggling to stand and not able to find my balance. "Please,
can I just go?"

He
turned and walked to the back of my car, taking his hat off my trunk and
putting it on. Then he came back, standing over me while he pulled his pad out
of his belt and started to write. I stared at him, my mouth agape.

"Let
me get those cuffs off you." He put a hand under my arm and helped me to
stand. His hands were gentle as he turned me this time, unlocking the handcuffs
and putting them back on his belt.

I
rubbed my shoulders with my palms, breathing, "Thank you."

"I've
cited you for the headlight." He tore the ticket off and handed it to me.
"It's a warning. If you get it fixed and bring the receipt in to the court
before that date, there won't be a fine."

I
took the ticket with a trembling hand, saying it again, "Thank you."

"Have
a good night, ma'am." He tipped his hat at me. I stared, incredulous, as
he strode back to his car.

I
was still standing there in bare feet with dirty knees and the taste of his cum
in my mouth when he pulled past me, giving me a brief salute, the flashers off
now. It was still dark, and for the first time since I'd stepped out of my car,
I was aware of the sound of the crickets in the field behind me.

I
watched his car until the lights were pinpoints in the distance, the ticket in
my hand crumpled in my fist.

* *
* *

Katie
had a baby girl, right about the time I was spread across the hood of my car.
Charlotte told me not to bother coming, so I turned around and went home. I
took a shower and slipped back into bed.

And
I didn't tell Charlie. I didn't tell him about the ticket or the suspended
license or the cop. I don't know why. Part of me was just too ashamed—not
of what had happened, but of how I had responded. Every time I remembered it, I
flushed, and the crotch of my panties started getting damp.

I
just got the headlight fixed and took the receipt and the ticket to the
courthouse, like he said to. The girl behind the glass took them, snapping her
gum and tapping the keyboard with the longest fingernails I’d ever seen.

"When
did you get this ticket?" She frowned at her screen.

"Last
week," I said, remembering. "Monday morning."

She
shook her head, clacking away again at the keys with her nails. I watched her,
remembering the way he turned me, pulled me, gripped me, forced me. I could
still feel the handcuffs biting into my wrists. The thought made me feel faint.

"I'm
sorry." She slipped the ticket and receipt back out to me. "I'm
afraid this ticket isn't in our system."

"Wh—What?"
I took the papers back, blinking at her. "But I have the ticket, look,
from Officer Ryan...Ryan Biggs...it says right here."

She
shrugged, snapping her gum again. "The only Ryan Biggs in our system died
fifteen years ago."

I
felt the blood drain out of my face as I crumpled the papers back into my
purse. I mumbled a confused, "Thank you," and turned to go.

"Do
you..." I stopped and looked back to her. "How did he die?"

She
shrugged. "I have no idea."

A
dark-haired woman behind her who had been filing papers looked up from her
desk, pushing her glasses up. "Ryan Biggs was killed in the line of
duty."

The
gum-snapping girl looked at her. "You knew him?"

"He
was killed on a routine traffic stop out on Cherry Hill Road," she said.
"Some woman shot him. They never found a motive."

I
saw my own stunned reflection in the glass as I stared at her. I was
remembering what had happened early Monday morning between Officer Biggs and me
out there in the dark on the dirt pavement of Cherry Hill Road.

About
Selena Kitt

Selena Kitt is a bestselling and
award-winning author of erotic fiction. She is one of the highest selling
erotic writers in the business. With half a million ebooks sold in 2011 alone,
she is the cream-at-the-top of erotica!

Her writing embodies everything from the
spicy to the scandalous, but watch out-this kitty also has sharp claws and her
stories often include intriguing edges and twists that take readers to new,
thought-provoking depths.

When
she’s not pawing away at her keyboard, Selena runs an innovative publishing
company (www.excessica.com) and in her spare time, she devotes herself to her
family—a husband and four children—and her growing organic garden.
She loves bellydancing and photography. She also loves four poster beds,
tattoos, voyeurism, blindfolds, velvet, baby oil, the smell of chewing gum and
leather, and playing kitty cat.

Her books EcoErotica (2009), The Real
Mother Goose (2010) and Heidi and the Kaiser (2011) were all Epic Award
Finalists. Her only gay male romance, Second Chance, won the Epic Award in
Erotica in 2011. Her story, Connections, was one of the runners-up for the 2006
Rauxa Prize, given annually to an erotic short story of “exceptional literary
quality,” out of over 1,000 nominees, where awards are judged by a select jury
and all entries are read “blind” (without author’s name available.)

She can be reached on her website at
www.selenakitt.com

WERE I AM

By D.B. Story

It’s fun being a
werewolf—at least when you’re a male, twenty-two years old, and not yet
tied down by the confines of life. And particularly when you’re not a very
impressive male in the eyes of other females—or yourself—but I’ll
get to that later.

For three nights a month
I roam the countryside as a powerful wolf. I’m at the top of the predator
chain. There’s nothing I can’t handle. Well, almost nothing, but I know what to
avoid. That is the best of times.

The worst of times comes
the remaining twenty-two or so remaining nights each lunar cycle when I’m a dog.
Albeit a big dog. An intelligent dog. But just a dog.

Yeah, if you know your
astronomy and did your math right, there are three nights left unaccounted for.
Those nights I’m just plain old me. Jim to my friends, if I had any.

I’m sure that anyone who
knew my story would ask, “How’d that happen?”

How’d what happen? How’d
I become a werewolf? I honestly don’t know. You’d think I should, but I don’t.
One full-moon it just happened. Scared the shit out of me, if you know what I
mean.

Wolves are smart, surprisingly
so. Just not in the same way humans are. (I’ll discuss dogs later.) But I
didn’t realize what was happening the first few times. Seemed like a weird, bad
dream afterwards. Had to be a dream. It was too unreal otherwise.

So how did it happen? I
do remember a mosquito bite. One that really burned when it happened. Who
knows? I can’t even swear it was a mosquito. The bite swelled up and itched
more than any other bite ever had just before all this started.

As to the other how did
it happen? The part about being a dog the nights I’m not human or wolf. I don’t
know that either. My top two guesses:

Some sort of mutation of
whatever makes me change, so it's not quite the same as it once was.

Or the old legends never
had it right to begin with.

I guess there’s the
chance this is something entirely new, some combinatorial crossing of the
species. I still don’t know. It just happens to me, and now, to Shannon.

* * * *

My first experience came
while I was outdoors—fortunately. The world faded around me, coming back
moments later as black and white. (I don’t know if wolves see in color. I’m
never around in the daytime to find out. And I never think to ask Shannon.)

Instead of abstractions
and thoughts, my world became one of nighttime sounds and smells and instinctive
knowledge I don't remember learning. I didn’t notice I was moving on four paws
now because it felt natural to me. I was aware of other humans nearby and
instinctively shied away from them. They never knew I was there.

I’d already eaten a
large dinner, so I wasn’t driven by hunger tonight. Cautiously I moved around
the trees and open land where I was staying at college, investigating it with
my new senses. The moon was bright. The neighborhood dogs certainly knew I was
there, and set up a howl whenever I passed closely by, but I knew they were no
threat. I realized I was marking my territory without thinking. And it was
my
territory. No other scent like mine preceded me. Though I easily wandered
miles that night, I never went far from my origin.

At daybreak I was near
my clothes when I suddenly awoke from my dream. I was too confused to be scared
at the time. The memories of the night being alive with sounds and scents
somehow compressed itself back into my human brain’s limited area for those
senses and experiences. The vibrancy and immediacy of them disappeared in the
process, leaving me to remember only a shadow of the overall experience.

I’d been drinking that
night with some almost-friends, and I put the experience into the lap of the
booze. At twenty-two, one isn’t picky about what they drink as long as it has
alcohol and is cheap enough. This wouldn’t be the first time drinking had led
to some crazy, vivid dreams afterwards.

The next night, however,
I was more careful. No drinking and stay inside. I had a single room at the far
end of the dorm. Since we were on break, most of the kids had gone home to get
more money from their parents. I didn't need the money, being somewhat careful
how I spend what I have, and had no more friends back home to visit than I do
here.

I'd clearly had a
premonition. I didn’t drink. I stayed inside. And I trashed the place.

The next morning I
vaguely remembered being panicked at being confined, and my reactions to it.
The evidence before my eyes argued that it hadn’t been a dream.

Now I was scared. But
the next night nothing happened at all. It was only later that I checked and
realized my first night had been the full moon. So I got the night of the full
moon, and the night after it. Starting the next month, I also got the night
before. That was an unexpected gift from the universe.

* * * *

Of course I’d forgotten
about it a month later. The broken window in my room attested to my dislike of
confinement this time, as well as my intelligence in finding any weaknesses
around me.

The dog part didn’t come
along for a couple more months. It was as though whatever changed me had taken
some time to acclimate itself, before showing its full bag of tricks.

A hundred and twenty
pound wolf is impressive. A hundred and twenty pound man is a wimp. A hundred
and twenty pound dog is just big. A hundred or more years ago if this happened
as the legends tell, no one would have had a chance of guessing the cause.
Magic. Curse. Act of the God of your choice. None of those answers explained
anything.

Now we have
retro-viruses, re-sequenced DNA, and there are nanobots on the horizon. But you
still don’t get something for nothing. Conservation of mass lives on. I weigh
the same in each form. Do the math. A hundred and twenty pound man at five feet
seven just isn’t going to go out and overwhelm the world. Now you can begin to
see the appeal of being a wolf.

I’m lucky that Lone
Rangers are a hundred years out of date, and that the price of argentum is
relatively high now. Though I have no intention of testing the silver bullet
theory—getting shot strikes me as a highly painful experience regardless
of the outcome—at least I can hope I have some extra protection if I ever
need it.

* * * *

Oh, I've tried to beat
the system. You can bet on that.

After the broken window,
I left it open with the screen off at night. I quit worrying about mosquitoes,
figuring I'd already been bitten as bad as it gets. And I put a nanny-cam in
the room.

My transformation from
human to wolf is amazingly quick. Thirty seconds, tops. I’m guessing the
reverse transformation is equally effective, but the nanny-cam only had six
hours worth of tape in it and I hadn't come back yet. I watched the tape a
dozen times before burning it. Just erasing, even bulk degaussing it, just
didn’t seem safe enough for me.

This world is full of
amazing feats. Homing pigeons are one such thing everybody knows of. Then there
are tiny animals that live in the tidal zones of oceans. They open up for food
when the tides come in and close afterwards. A researcher once took them to a
laboratory fifteen hundred miles away from any ocean, into a windowless
building. They still opened up right on schedule—as if the tide had
reached into the heartland of America! No one knows how they can do this. How
would they even know?

I tried hiding from the
moon. First, the obvious—close the windows and curtains. Later, inside
the windowless bathroom. Finally, in a cave a hundred feet below ground. I
changed on schedule every time. Hiding doesn’t work.

I used the opportunity of
being in college to research all current data on anything resembling my
condition, and quickly realized I’d never understand any of this stuff once I
found it. Maybe some post-doc student in biology and genetics would, but not
me. All I got out of it was a list of companies that worked in the field. I
sent all of them blood and tissue samples, with no response.

When the dog part kicked
in, it just pushed me into depression for months. I mean, jeez, being a wolf
has a cachet to it, but the only trick a dog can do is lick his own
balls—hardly a redeeming feature. The wolf time was great, but three
nights a month wasn’t enough. And there was always the fear of getting caught.
I was smart, but it was wolf smart—and humans virtually exterminated the
wolves a century ago.

The only good dog night
was when a couple of other “students” broke into my room. I guess they'd
noticed I never seem to be around at night. Even as a dog I was more than a
match for them. They’re probably still running. I know they never dared report
me for having an unauthorized pet in the dorms.

* * * *

What dragged me out of
my funk was a motivational speaker who came by the campus—big, tall guy.
He was good, and he spoke during the day, when I could attend. Convinced me
everyone can make use of all the unique abilities each of us have. I wish'd he
could have been more specific though.

It was, however, great
advice that I initially tried to apply in some pretty unrealistic ways. I think
the most un-thought-out idea I had was to get a career as an animal extra in
Hollywood. The fact that I could only work at night—most
nights—with no handler or agent, didn’t seem such a big obstacle. Of
course, such plans never got off the ground.

What finally did get off
the ground was an opportunity for college students to intern in the National
Park system. I got Yellowstone the summer after my condition appeared. It was
perfect. A lot of the job is seemingly office-bound—student interns never
get the good jobs—but the nights were my own.

The park rules say no
dogs off the leash, but I knew enough, even in dog-brain form, to avoid
trouble. And in wolf-form, I ruled the night.

Finally there was a
place where I could run as far as I wanted without worries about highways, cars
or people. I could hunt as a wolf. And when I howled, it was a welcome sound to
those who heard it. I’d finally found paradise.

* * * *

It was on my second
month’s full moon that my life improved yet again.

I was chasing a rabbit.
Not because I was all that hungry but just for the thrill of the hunt. I’d just
about run it to ground when a shadow slipped in front of me and plucked it out
of my grasp.

In hindsight, I was
lucky this was my first wolf night of the month. At a hundred-and-four pounds
herself, the wolf bitch could have easily eviscerated me in dog—or
human—form. She grabbed “my” rabbit and my chase target immediately
shifted over to her.

She was playful that
night. Instead of running off or growling me down, she stopped twenty feet away
with my rabbit in her jaws. When I'd approach, she’d run off a few more feet
and wait once more. After several cycles of this, I kind of wandered around as
though I’d lost interest. She followed me with her eyes and nose, without
otherwise moving. When my wandering finally took me close enough to her without
her moving further away, I bunched my muscles and jumped so quickly she
couldn’t react in time. I got a grip on my rabbit, and as I tugged, it came
apart.

I wolfed down my half
before looking up again. She’d done the same with hers, and was now just
standing there again. Then she came over slowly to me, and before I realized
it, gave a quick swipe of her rough tongue across my muzzle before bounding off
once more.

It emphatically felt
right to chase her, so I did. She ran, but never fast enough to get away. I
ran, just not fast enough to catch her until she was ready to be caught. For
the rest of the night, until deep inside I knew I had to return, we played
wolf-tag out in the forest.

* * * *

The next night when I
jumped out my window, I immediately caught her familiar scent. In the shadows
at the edge of the clearing she was waiting; front paws out and head bowed down
in the universal gesture of play. We ran off together, chasing coyotes together
all night until again I needed to return.

The third night there
was something different about her scent. Maybe she'd known it was coming soon
for her and hung around me as a result.

I found myself
responding to a primal urge more strongly than I'd ever imagined I could. And
even though she wanted it as badly as I did, she required me to conquer her
first.

I would have thought our
growling and tussling would have woken up half the park, but we weren’t
disturbed. We spent most of the night engaged in our mating ritual.

Afterwards I just wanted
to lie down next to her. For once, caution didn’t matter. Then, as the sun
rose, the bitch was still lying next to me—in nude human female form.
This was the start of a whole new adventure.

* * * *

At five feet
three—to go with her barely hundred pounds—she was even smaller as
a woman than I was as a man. With dark hair and exotic eyes, and a trim, fit
body, she was as much a joy in human form as in wolf. At least I thought so.
Her opinion might have varied, but she couldn’t tell me that.

I've never learned to
speak wolf, since up until two nights ago, there'd never been another wolf with
whom to converse. And we’d gotten by just fine on instinct in those three
nights. She, of course, had never learned to speak as a human, although if the
transformation were complete, she should be capable of it.