After a grueling season of theater, Angie's play finally wraps. She and her friend Jess are backstage to have a trist, but they are interrupted by their friend Paul, who has turned into a sexually depraved werewolf! mff; group; werewolf; light bondage More
Jess began to wriggle her grandmotherly muumuu off over her head. Whereas Angie’s breasts were smashed against her chest in the corset, Jess’s small, round tits were free to the musty backstage air. She had been wearing a comically large pair of fake ones under her matronly garb, and hadn’t bothered with any further bondage. She took a quick breath inward as Angie ran a fingernail up the inside of her thigh, over her clean-shaven mound and up her chest, circling her nipple. As Jess relaxed the muscles of her back, Angie brought her mouth onto Jess’s milk-white neck and kissed her two times behind the ear. Hot, breathy kisses raised a flush on Jess’s chest and throat while Angie slipped her hood off and tied it loosely over Jess’s eyes. Just as Angie finished tying the blindfold onto Jess and started to trace the line of her collarbone with her tongue, Jess took advantage of how they were lying on the ground. Massaging Angie’s firm, bare ass, Jess pushed her groin upward and into Angie’s round hipbone. “Hhnnn..” she moaned softly, the pressure on her crotch moving her to ecstasy. In all the sound and musk of their passion, the two did not notice the scratching sound coming from the armoire. At first, the scratching was very soft, tentative and unsure. As time went on, and Angie and Jess ground into each other with more urgency, the scratching from inside the armoire strengthened until it finally got louder than their moaning. “Jess – can you hear that? What the hell is that noise?” Angie asked as the pawing strengthened. “It sounds like there’s something in that dresser.” When the girls hushed themselves, the scratching ceased. “I’m going to try something.” Jess said. She tilted her head back, closed her eyes and moaned, “Uuuunnnnng, I’m coming!” The scratching on the inside of the armoire resumed immediately but now was accompanied by a violent banging; the whole thing looked like it was going to collapse under some bizarre force. Suddenly, the left door of the thing burst off its hinge and Paul – or, something very much like Paul – erupted from the furniture. Standing seven feet high and muscled so heavily that he must have weighed at least three hundred pounds, the creature towered over the girls, resplendent in the moonlight. The thick fur covering his body was heavy black and tinged with purple that was barely visible in the silver light of the moon. The creature’s face was twisted with fierce rage, but his eyes were kind, and Angie could tell that this was actually Paul, but in a form she was unable to believe. Paul, she realized, was a fucking werewolf. Turning to face the moon’s light through the window, the wolfen Paul gave a low, fierce, booming roar and leapt out of the armoire and onto the floor near the two lovers. With a surprisingly gentle rake of his huge, clawed hand, the beast tore the laces holding Angie’s corset together and ripped it away from her body. She realized that she should have been terrified, but she was so filled with frothy, overwhelming lust that she twisted around under him and clawed his chiseled stomach as her perfect, symmetrical breasts pressed against his thigh. Jess, still blindfolded, had also been overcome with the uncontrollable urge to experience whatever it was that dove out of the armoire and had taken the attention of her lover. She could not manage to work herself free of the rope that bound her and Angie together, but she was able to straddle Angie’s back and prop herself up on her elbows. She pitched her hips in an angle that let her grind the button of her pussy into her friend’s backbone. Angie, smashed between the wolf’s enormous thigh, and the hot wetness of Jess on her back barely had the presence of mind to slip the loop of rope off her ankle. She urged the beast to lift his foot and cinched it below his calf.