Sunday, July 31, 2011
Saturday, July 30, 2011
“Ah, she is a real sweetie Harley. Riding her is so damn fine. I can feel her purring between my legs from the moment I mount her.”
Gil stopped dead in his tracks as he pushed the double kitchen door open. Three days in squirrel form was bad enough, now he had to listen to Louie gush loudly about some dame. Christ, his artistic aberration attack had gossip flying all over town. Hell the new dishes and haute cuisine werestyle had more shifters coming in than Katie could handle alone. A few had taken up eating at the bar. At least the tips were good. Scrubbing blood and guts off the varnished wood nightly was getting old real fast. Recently some drunk had tried to chomp on the bar. How did you get teeth marks out of wood?
“Yes Harley riding her over and over is ssssooooo fucking good.” Louie’s laughter echoed in the kitchen. “Oh, yeah I can’t wait to get her into overdrive. She really begins to buck then.”
Gil swallowed hard. What was Harley doing on the phone with Louie? Had Harley lost his mind? Talking about Mary like that. Or was he---oh shit he better not be cheating on her. Ms. Elly and kin would have his pork butt roasted and sliced before he could ride his hog bike out of town.
“Damn Harley, you getting the same reaction too? Ain’t it glorious? You know we need to take our babes for a sweet ride together. You know enter the contest and see who comes first.” Louie’s voice grew quiet. Gil pushed the door open farther. Hell with minding his own business. Harley and Louie needed to shut up. Forget need, they just better shut their friggin yaps. Mary was a nice girl and whoever Louie was dogging on. . .well her reputation didn’t need more tarnish. No lady or woman deserved to be talked about like Harley and Louie were.
“Louie---“ Gil shouted, storming through the kitchen door. Louie looked up from the prep table where he stood, a raised meat clever in one hand.
“Gil, what’s your nut?” Louie slammed the meat clever through hunk of meat before him. Gil looked at the meat and the cleaver buried half way in it. The handle quivered and thrummed. Eerie vibrations hummed around the kitchen.
Gil shrugged and tried to back away. “Uhmm nothing Louie. Didn’t realize you’re on the phone. Sorry.”
“Harley, hang on.” Louie pulled his blue tooth head set off his head. “Gil, you been at them liquored pecans again?”
Gil kept backing away. He’d seen what Louie could do with a skinning knife and the meat cleaver. Meeting up with either and one pissed off Louie wasn’t at the top of Gil’s preferences in any shape or form. “Never mind. I’ll get back to you when you’re done.”
As Gil reached the door, he exhaled. Dumb ass, his conscience roared. Yeah, a real dumb ass. Never ever get near a man with a meat cleaver in his hand.
“Harley, I think Gil has been nipping the fermented pecans again. The boy is not making sense.” Louie shook his head and reached for the paper next to him.
Gil rushed back into the dining area. So much for saving Mary and the other lady’s reputation. At least he could make sure, he knew what had been said so he could stop the gossip before it started. Inching the door open, he cocked his head listening intently.
“I bet Mary’s sweet on riding her. The feel of buildup and the power…oh man I get jazzed thinking about our babes revving into over drive as we ride them to desire and back.” Louie laughed and spoke a few more minutes before hanging up.
Gil stepped away from the door, his hands shaking. His cock strained against his fly. Mary riding another lady? Harley and Louie were watching two women getting it on. Gil tried to swallow. His dry mouth went drier as images flashed before him of the foursome Harley and Louie must be having.
Gil jumped as Louie swung the door open. “Gil, what’s going on with you? Eaves dropping again?”
Gil slumped against the wall. Caught. He might was well fess up. Maybe he could get in on the action. Get Katie to come along as his partner. Oooh, three women going at it at once?
“Gil,” Louie called louder, his hand waving in front of Gil’s face. “You okay? You got to stay out of the pecan bucket.”
Gil jumped back as a white item floated near him. Grabbing Louie’s hand, he caught part of the blurred words. Bill of sale. One customized motorcycle.
No, he couldn’t be wrong. Could he? Gil looked up and grinned sheepishly. “Uhmm yeah. Sorry Louie.”
“NO harm done.” Louie turned to leave.
“Hey Can I ask you a question?” Gil moved closer.
“Sure.” Louie hesitated.
“Mind if I join in on the action?” There he’d spit it out. Though if Louie’s arched eyebrow and deadpan stare indicated the answer, Gil was shit out of luck and probably a job too.
“You can if you can get a bike in time. The road race to Desire is filling up fast.” Louie tossed the papers he held on the bar. “I got a carcass to carve. Check with the folks on the sheets.”
Gil picked up the papers. He groaned. The top sheet read contest form for Race to Desire’s Bluff. The second showed a picture of a tricked out motorcycle with a delivery date of Tuesday inked on the border.
Friday, July 29, 2011
Wednesday, July 27, 2011
“G&B, personals desk. How may I assist you?”
Rex listened listlessly, doodling out the message more than copying it. Three weeks of personals desk hell. Eighty percent of the calls were bunnies, either placing an ad or responding to one. Lycan only knew why. The ads were all about the same: cutesy word plays on something totally non-reproduction related in the paper the day before. After three weeks, he only needed to read the paper to get the gist of the next day’s calls.
Having written down the billing information very carefully—there wasn’t much point to this hell if no money could be collected—he very gently replaced the phone handset in its cradle. It seemed like hanging the thing up carelessly encouraged the really odd characters to give him a ring. It probably wasn’t true but there was no need to tempt fate. With that thought, the shrill chirping of his personal phone ringing pulled him from his moping. He glanced down at the screen, eyes going wide. He glanced around furtively, noting that the news room was deserted. He flipped his phone open, hesitantly.
“Hey sugar,” she growled, making parts of his body stir.
“Un, hi… honey,” Rex replied, scrambling madly to put a face with the voice. There was no way he would have forgotten a voice like that. It was a smooth, feminine alto, just deep enough for the seductive play growl to trip every trigger in is canid-wired male brain. There was no way he would be sporting an instant, insistent hard-on from two words if he didn’t know the she on the other end of the line, right?
Her throaty chuckle skittered along his over-stimulated nerves, making every hair on his currently human body stand on end. The urge to shift and start mating struck like a mack truck. It was all he could do to keep his wolf contained.
“I’m not your honey, bunny,” the mysterious voice hummed.
“I’m not a bunny, honey,” Rex shot back inanely, proud he could even still for words at this point. What the hell? He was no new-turn, unable to control his urges!
“Mmm, no you aren’t are you, my sexy wolf. But I bet I could get you hopping and bopping like a bunny in no time at all.”
“Um, no, probably not,” Rex muttered, shifting so his erection wasn’t pressed quite so… firmly along the seam of his jeans.
“Wanna bet?” the voice purred teasingly.
“Um, who is this, anyway?” Rex asked nervously as he eyed the newsroom for any hidden co-workers of microphones. He was alone while the rest to the gazette was out for lunch, but if he didn’t wrap this up quickly, someone was likely to come back to find him doing a Nick on the personals desk. He so did not want to go there!
“I’m your wildest dream, sweet-thang,” she purred. Her follow-up throaty chuckle pushed him just a bit farther, almost toppling the self-control he’d always been so proud of.
“Ok. I’m going to hang up now,” Rex said, though he realized that was a lie. He knew he should just hang up, then call the police. Stalkers were more of a big city thing, but it wasn’t unknown in small towns for journalists to garner a less than healthy following. He couldn’t though, not till he got her name. And number.
“Hang up then,” she purred. “But make sure you go for your usual evening run this evening. I love watching you bathe in that out-door shower you have in your back yard. I watch you shift from wolf to man, watch all that golden skin as it shimmers in the setting sun with water streaming over it.”
“You know about that?” Rex asked gulping.
“Uh-hu. And if you go for your usual run, I promise to be there when you get back. I want to watch you wash off the sweat.”
“Lady, this doesn’t sound like such a good idea,” Rex said, chuckling nervously.
“Oh, don’t worry, my sexy wolf. I don’t bite. I just want to play.”
Just like that, she hung up.
Rex realized that he’d been sitting there staring at his still-open phone for close to ten minutes when Nick tapped him on the shoulder.
“Earth to Rex, come in Rex!” his boss said, snapping his fingers in Rex’s face. Rex blinked at Nick, then shut his phone.
“Sorry boss. Didn’t see you come in.”
“I noticed. You going to be able to make it to tonight’s poker game over at Louie’s?”
“Not tonight,” Rex said smiling vaguely. “I got a blind date.”
Tuesday, July 26, 2011
Leo Sun Sign greetings, shapeshifter lovers... no, my phone sex flash can’t compare with Pat Cunningham’s flash scene of yesterday. However, without further adieu...
Too much whiskey, pretty kitty.
Dante’s inner wolf howled and yipped for release. He should never have tossed down several shots of whiskey with Dead Aim. But the mountain man had been persuasive in that clap-on-the-back way of his.
Besides, Dante just plain liked and admired the puma shapeshifter. They’d jawed at the bar for a time, celebrating Dead Aim’s hookup with the woman rancher, Stormy.
Given Dante already had a soft spot in his heart for the human who encouraged him in his poetry writing, and also didn’t hold back on her criticism, he’d wanted to know whatever sexy tasty tidbits he could pry out of Dead Aim. That meant, sharing a bottle of Black Jack whiskey.
Vicariously enjoying what the long-lived puma called his courtship of Stormy, Dante began envisioning his short secretive time with Kitty, the woman he loved and adored beyond all reason. Eventually, he hadn’t been able to tamp down the raw ache that gutted him.
Now, he stealthily moved deeper into the forest surrounding his Pleasure Club. His wolf alternately growled and whimpered. Desperately, Dante fought off his desire to shift. He wanted to run to his Kitty, his paws flying over the night-moistened earth, until he stood at her door.
Instead, he moved within his hidden den, a tiny cabin he’d built over a cave opening. He’d learned long ago, the more places he could escape to, the better his chances for survival, and that ultimately meant victory.
Snatching up the satellite phone, he punched in Kitty’s number. In moments, she groggily purred ‘hello’ in his ear. “Who is this?”
There was a long pause, and Dante heard her soft breaths quicken in recognition of his voice. He listened to her indecisiveness about staying on the phone with him, revealed by several catches in her breathing.
“Where -- where are you?”
He pictured the little quivers of her beautiful belly, the excited quivers of her shapely silken thighs. He pictured what he sensed through their connection, her feverish desire for him. “I’m alone. Away from the club.” He halted, then spilled the truth. “Too much whiskey, pretty kitty. I had to talk with you. Hear your voice.”
Dante swallowed. Pain, indescribable pain clawed its way up his throat. When? When would be able to finally claim her openly as his? Forever his.
He didn’t care how she fought him, fanged him, scratched him, he would convince her. He would.
“When?” she whispered, echoing his thoughts. “When will I see... see you?”
The ache in her voice mirrored his gut. Dante figured because he woke her up, she was more vulnerable to him.
“Don’t know if you’ve heard, Kitten. The old man is about to find out --”
“It’s all over Talbot’s Peak,” she interrupted. “So, it is true. Your grandfather could have sired another heir.”
“Yeah. Could be a big game changer for us. I could topple the sire’s empire, and not worry about Devon losing out. There’d be no reason --"
“No reason for me to end up as road kill.”
“No.” Dante clenched his eyelids shut. His forehead landed against the wall. Agony squeezed his heart, and vised his balls unmercifully. “Kitty,” he growled.
She mewed her ferocious passion for him. Dante knew the sound escaped her even as he shuddered with want. His cock arrowed, then raged like a caged beast against his leather pants.
“I feel you,” she throatily sang. “Oh, Dante, I feel you.”
After groaning, he rasped, “How... how do you feel me?” He had to know. More, he needed to hear her say it. That is, if he wanted to continue living. Continue breathing... simply continue into the next moment.
“I feel you inside me. Oh, Dante, your cock... your cock is filling me... so large... so, so demanding... please, goddess, please... “
She panted, and he knew she scraped her fingernail over her clit. He knew her hips rocked, a sultry rhythm that always drove him crazy wild until he buried his cock deep inside her, and howled his come.
Dante thrust against the wall, remembering the savage and sweet pleasure that had only been with her, his love, his woman. “Kitten, I feel you. Hot and tight. You’re so creamy and I’m sliding in and out... I’m too fast, pumping hard... you’re so good, I can’t help it...”
Her little cries of pleasure wrapped around his shaft, and Dante slammed his loins hard into the wall. His hips moved of their own volition, and his rigid cock felt the slide of the leather as he fucked the unmovable surface.
“Remember... remember our first time.” Dante’s words matched his humping thrusts. “I kissed and lapped your breasts until you came. Your juices filled my palm.”
She squealed with feline pleasure, and Dante ‘felt’ her delicately claw the folds of her pussy.
“Remember... remember when I rubbed... I rubbed every last inch of my body on your cock like a cat.”
“God, yes!” His words vibrated through him like his Harley. “Kitten...your delectable gorgeous body.”
“Your purrrfectly muscled body... hard, so hard... I’m... I’m about to... ”
She plucked her clit several times, then pulled. Dante observed it before his mind’s eye. He ground his shaft against the wall, and his grip threatened to crush the phone.
“Come, Kitten, come with me.”
The following silence stretched as if testing the strength of their bond, then snapped with the force of an arriving lightning storm after a heat wave. An explosion of rapture zinged back and forth between them.
Dante couldn’t move, and he knew she was a willing captive to their climax. But it had to end. And end now. Mentally, he jerked on the energy, halting the orgasmic flow.
“Wolf... my wolf, I --”
“I love you, Kitty.”
Dante disconnected, knowing they were about to be tracked by what he euphemistically called Sky Net.
Panting like a couch-potato human, he straightened, and dropped the phone onto its cradle. Yeah, he knew exactly where White Fang was, patrolling Talbot’s Peak, and getting his next story on Shere Khan’s unscrupulous activities.
Dante was about to ask a favor of the Super Wolf, once he stepped through the doors of his rooms at the Pleasure Club. Keep a laser eye on his Kitty Katrina love, just in case he hadn’t ended the call soon enough.
Okay, chew a bloody bone, so he might owe Nick an apology, now that he was a wall humper. Dante twisted his lips in a facsimile of a grin. Fat chance in hell he’d ever voice it, though. Maybe, just maybe, he’d send Nick a desk worthy of being humped, instead of that old relic taking up space in the G&B’s editor’s office.
“I love you, Kitty,” he whispered a moment before striding out of his hidden den.
Have a Cool Shapeshifting Day!
Savanna Kougar ~ Run on the Wild Side of Romance ~
Monday, July 25, 2011
- Hey, horny girl. You there?
- Porkypie? Where are you?
- At the library. Where are you?
- Stuck at home. Mom’s got me typing recipes. She wants to publish a book. I can’t get loose right now.
- A cookbook?
- What else? Breakfast foods for vegetarians. You know, the stuff we serve at the Bighorn.
- Are you on the menu?
- You want me for breakfast?
- And lunch and dinner. I got your tip right here.
- You’re making me hungry for pig in a blanket.
- What’s that?
- Well … first you need a sausage. A big, thick sausage.
- Got that and then some.
- It has to be firm. A limp, mealy sausage won’t cut it. If it stands straight up in your hand, you’ve got a goodie.
- Oh, I’ve got a goodie, all right.
- Then you make the batter. You need flour, baking powder, and baking soda. I could go for a soda. Plenty of sugar. Give me sugar. Salt, too. I like it salty. Butter so it’s all lubed up. Then you add the buttermilk so it creams real nice.
- Oh yeah. I’m digging this.
- You mix it all together. You beat the batter until it’s nice and stiff.
- Beat until stiff. Got it.
- Then the sausage goes into the batter. You want a good, thick coating. Ram it into that batter. Make that batter scream.
- I love screaming batter.
- Then you slide it into a hot oven. Let that sausage sit and bake. You may have to slide it in and out of the oven until it sits just right. Sometimes it comes
- It comes?
- With gravy. Sausage gravy. All thick and creamy white. All over the sausage and all over the blanket. I love the taste of gravy.
- I’m coming right over. Is your mom home?
- I think she’s in the kitchen. She
She was standing right beside Mary and the computer. She pinned her daughter’s hand to the keyboard before Mary could exit the personal chat room. That’s not exactly the recipe for gooseberry flapjacks, is it? Mary read on her mother’s lips.
Elly activated the speaker that Mary never used. “Porker? Is that you?”
“Uhhhhh … M-m-m-m-Miss Elly?”
“In the flesh, young man. I see you’re looking to get some take out.”
“Uh uh uh uh uh uh – ”
“Oh, stop. I know all about spring and young men’s fancies and all that romantic tripe. Which is why I’m giving you fair warning. You step so much as one pig bristle over the line with my little lamb and I’ll make cutlets out of you. Got it?”
Mary signed “Mom!” Somehow her fingers stretched it out to six syllables.
“As for you, young lady, that’s all the unsupervised computer time you get for the rest of the week. How are those recipes coming along?”
Mary sullenly called up the abandoned files. Elly nodded. “Whoa. You’re really whipping through them. Why don’t you take a break? Away from the computer. Get some fresh air.” She shut down the system before Mary could protest.
Mary trudged outside, into the cheerful but Porkerless sunshine. She plopped down under a tree and set her back to the trunk. She spotted her mother watching from the kitchen. After a while Elly returned to whatever experimental recipe currently held her attention.
When she was certain she was no longer under surveillance, Mary pulled out her cell phone. Nobody, not even her brothers, knew she had a cell, and she wanted to keep it that way.
Naturally she couldn’t take regular calls. But the text function worked just fine.
- Porkypie? R U there?
- Took U long enuff. Want to see my recipe for stirred and spicy eggs?
# # #
Because being hearing- or speech-impaired is no reason to miss out on the fun.
Sunday, July 24, 2011
“Your uncle is going to kill us when he finds out what we did last night.”
“Which part?” he inquired with mock innocence. “The part where I loved you weel into the early morn before sneaking us both into the castle? Or the part where you pounced on me, thinking I might make a tasty snack?”“How about the part where his nephew, one of the most powerful lords of the Kind, took a common shifter for his mate?”
Saturday, July 23, 2011
Cason kicked off his sandals and stepped out on to the sand. The beach was empty at this hour of the day. Most of the surfers and early morning joggers had left before the heat began staking its claim.
A few feet down the beach, Cason noticed an odd shape on the sand toward the water line. The tail fins looked different from the ones he'd seen deep sea fishing. And the color hue ran darker than most surface or mid-sea dwellers he'd encountered scuba diving. Was it a new species of whale? The tail didn't fit a dolphin's nor a whale's either. He sped up his gait as he saw the clouds clear revealing more sun on the section of beach he headed towards.
As he got closer, a strange melodious sound filled his ears. Shaking his head, Cason looked around. He'd had his share of delusions from too much oxygen and the bends during diving incidents. He knew angels hovered around him as he assisted with water rescues. His job as an EMT didn't permit him much rest during the summer. This year he knew his vacation time needed to be. He wanted to find himself and regain the balance he'd had before he lost her.
"Look mate," a high-pitched voice began. Cason glanced to his left. Just above the wave rolling toward shore, his sea sprite companion, Nitchell, hovered. His squeaky British accented voice indicated something was amiss.
"Dude, calm down." Cason pointed toward the large blob he intended on investigating. "I'm not stupid enough to rush whatever it is."
Nitchell's laughter overwhelmed the music Cason kept hearing. "Sorry, mate. I've seen her kind before." He moved closer to Cason.
Cason shot him a scowl. Nitchell crossed his eyes and stuck out his tongue. Why did he have to get stuck with a hunk for his charge? A hunk who attracted women and men alike. Neither of them was queer. He disliked referring to them as gay. That word described his outlook on life and not from a sexual one either. Nitchell sighed as Cason waved him off and moved closer to her.
Two feet from the fishy blob, his charge had sense enough to stop. Any closer and she'd have him within her clutches. Blasted sea women.
"Nitchell!" A sharp motherly voice boomed through his conscience. All right not all were blasted. His dear sainted mother and aunts were good ladies of the sea. How his father dealt with them all living under his roof was beyond him. Not his problem. One human hunk with the ability to see and hear spirits was his and right now keeping him away from her mattered.
Cason knelt where he stopped. No, it couldn’t be. Yet, even though he blinked twice. . .even thrice, she didn’t disappear. Before him, sprawled on the sand, lay one partially shifted nude mermaid. What did he do now?
Happy Weekend All! Sorry for the late posting. My car went in the shop for a few days. Between the heat and that I've been distracted. Things are now back to balance pretty much as we weather out the heat here in the Mid-Atlantic. Keep cool and read a few good books! Remember to share with your spices and loves!