Saturday, March 10, 2012

Don't Get Me Wrong, But. . .

“Damn it, Rachel. That is not funny,” Gil hissed through clenched teeth, pointing at the offense item sitting on Rachel Carnston’s mantel. Three dates with no problems. She even witnessed his full moon morph and hadn’t ran away screaming. Instead, she’d fed him premium cashews and allowed him sips from her wine glass. Not much of a passionate evening, but with his karma, Gil counted himself lucky. Maybe playing poker with Louie, Serge and the rest had started a good luck streak for him. After seeing the item Rachel said she had for him, well---Gil was wondering if his curse had doubled up on him.

“Oh come on Gil,” Rachel began. Her soft southern accent wrapped around him like a cat purring and rubbing against your leg with contentment. Her male Manx cat, Toby loved to chase any small rodent he found. More than once the four-legged pain in the ass feline had tried to pounce on Gil’s scrawny carcass. Now Toby perched on the back of the couch glaring at Gil.

“Rachel honey, what were you thinking?” Gil licked his lips and shoved his hands deeper into his pockets. Rachel’s deep V-necked top left little to his imagination as to her bust size. He didn’t care what she measured. He wanted to bury his face between her breasts and lick. Add a few place nibbles as he worked his way to her twin firm nipples pebbling underneath her bra. Last time he’d scored. . .oh hell he couldn’t remember when his willing companion wasn’t four legged and hairy or another damn rodent. Thanks to his inept magic, he’d rendered himself sterile in his animal form.

“Gilley baby,” Rachel started. Gil clapped his hand over Rachel’s mouth. He wanted to dip his cock into that hot place and feel her tongue gliding across it, stem to stern and back. Okay, when had his gonads gotten the better of him? At this rate, he’d lose control and ravish Rachel. Great another short-lived fling!

“Let me guess, you thought it was cute.” Gil swallowed hard as Rachel’s nipped his fingers and nodded. She inched her hands under his shirt, dragging her nails up and down his back. Damn if he could purr, he’d be louder than Toby who’d decided to entwine his body between their feet. And the feline was loud and intermittent with his plaintive mews.

Gil inhaled sharply as Rachel slide her hand from under his shirt and cupped his crotch. Lord, what did she think she was doing? Trying to talk him into accepting her obnoxious gift? Let her keep the blasted thing in plain sight? Or get him so hot and bothered he didn’t care?

Rachel laved her tongue over Gil’s fingers. Was he as amply endowed as his long digits suggested? Hmm, big and hard enough to fill her until she creamed from him being deep in her? So he morphed into a squirrel. Not a problem. He might balk at the cage the first few times until he understood she was keeping him safe. Even Toby knew better than to fuss too much. The next full moon having two male lovers at her beck was going to be very interesting and enormous fun.


Pat C. said...

YAY! GIL GETS LUCKY!!! Does putting a weresquirrel in a cage count as bondage?

Savanna Kougar said...

It might... but if I were Gil my instincts would be screaming to get the H outta there... cat attack!... cat attack!