Abducted by the Pack
Lycan Longings Part 2
* * *
In the weeks since that first full moon, my relationship with Duncan changed immensely. That first night of unleashed animal passion revealed a mutual lust that we had both avoided confronting, each for our own reasons. Myself because I was a young college girl and it seemed wrong to actively try to sleep with my landlord, let alone one apparently twice my age (well, much older than that, it turned out). Duncan later claimed that he had feared unleashing his inhuman hungers on one apparently so innocent. Personally I think that by resisting me Duncan had been proving to himself that he was capable of becoming “civilized.”
Prior to our first full moon meeting in his basement, I would have scoffed at the idea that werewolves even existed. That changed quickly enough, and it was hard to deny that it was anything human that had spent the entire night fucking me so hard. And when I say “entire night” I do mean every minute of the night—I was sore for days afterward in places that reminded me of the many ways he had taken me over and over again. I had heard many tales of the legendary abilities of werewolves, but I had no idea that among them were an insatiable sexual appetite and the stamina to back it up.
That night I had disturbed Duncan's plan to restrain himself during the full moon, preventing him from giving in to his insatiable hunger. I had not-so-selflessly offered myself as a means to occupy his lusts until the moon finally dropped below the horizon. But that one night had not been enough to slate my thirst, and it clearly was not enough for Duncan either. In the weeks that followed I discovered that Duncan changed forms frequently, not merely on full moons as I had suspected. There were several nights where I awoke to a large hulking man-beast in my room, staring at me with those wide amber eyes, his impossibly large erection silhouetted by the moonlight through the window.