Full Moon Desires: Three Stories of Gay Werewolves
Jillian Cumming
Published by Jillian Cumming at Smashwords
Copyright 2012 Jillian Cumming
License Notes
This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to Smashwords.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.
Discover other titles by Jillian Cumming at Smashwords.com
My Private Dick and His Big Prick
High in the nighttime sky, the moon was full and bloated. Jeremy shivered in the night cold. He rubbed at his bare arms. All he had on was a tight, white t-shirt, a pair of jeans, and his runners. Brent had convinced him to come out on this hike to the forest, but he hadn’t seen Brent for hours.
Brent had disappeared some time after they noticed that the moon had come up. He seemed really scared in a way that had made the hairs on the back of Jeremy’s neck stand up. Right before he ran off, he’d been talking to Jeremy about what good friends they were, and how it was great just hanging out like that, the two of them together.
Jeremy had just smiled. He always thought Brent had a little bit of a crush on him. They were both in their second year of college, so he figured some guys were probably looking to experiment.
Jeremy stopped and put his hand out against a tree trunk. Sometimes, when he walked through a particularly dense collection of trees the moon became blotted from view, and with it went the light. He squinted ahead. He’d already tripped twice over seemingly invisible roots.
“Brent?” Jeremy called out.
A piercing howl split the air. The blood ran cold through Jeremy’s veins. He’d heard wolves and coyotes in the night before, but this was something different. It had sounded almost human, yet he knew in his bones that it was not. He couldn’t explain how, he just knew.
Jeremy also knew that he needed to get out of those woods, right then.
It was then that Jeremy realized that all the normal noises of a forest at night had stopped – no hoots of owls, chirps of insects, not even the patter of tiny feet scurrying about.
The air felt charged with some sort of horrible energy, just seeking release. For some reason, Jeremy felt a tinge of excitement along with the expected fear. In spite of himself, he felt that he was getting a little hard in his pants. Somewhere behind him, there was a rustle of leaves. He spun around.
“Hello? Brent, is that you?” Jeremy whispered.
A deep, feral growl was the reply.
Jeremy turned and ran, heedless of any obstacles. Branches seemed to reach out and grab at him. The cold night air whipped at his face and whistled past his ears. His breaths came quickly.
He didn’t know if the thing had followed him, but to him it felt like whatever had growled was now right at his heels. This spurred him to greater speed.
Jeremy chanced a glance over his shoulder. He saw nothing behind him except blackness and the silhouettes of trees. His lungs felt like they were burning inside his chest. Slowly, he came to a stop and knelt over, bracing his hands against his knees. In the coolness of the night, his breath misted in front of his face.
“What was that?” He said, straightening up.
In front of him, no more than a few feet away, stood a sight that instantly made his mouth dry and his stomach clench up.
It was huge, and was covered in dark, shaggy fur. It had the head and muzzle of some horrific wolf, but also looked like a man in some ways. It stood on its hind legs, and long-clawed hands curled at the ends of its muscular arms.
What was most unsettling were the eyes, with which it was now studying him in return. They looked human in the moonlight. More, they looked familiar to Jeremy.
The things he first thought were different colored patches of fur on its body turned out to be the torn remnants of clothing. Around the werewolf’s waist and legs were the tattered remains of a pair of shorts. For some reason, Jeremy wondered if the thing still had its man parts. And if it did, had they changed too?
All thoughts were driven from him, leaving Jeremy with only cold fear and that strange tinge of excitement.
The next instant, he found himself running again. Something reached out and raked his back with long claws. The fabric of his shirt tore. A tree branch snagged the fabric at his shoulder and he spun around, stumbling. When he regained his balance, he had no shirt on. There was nothing between his bare skin and the cold wind, or the tearing claws of his pursuer.
Despite that cold wind, as he ran a thin sheen of sweat appeared on his skin. His lungs began burning again, and he couldn’t remember how long he’d been running.
Finally, Jeremy could run no more. He slowed down and was about to stop, when something grabbed his foot. With an “Oof!” he fell to the forest floor. In the darkness, he could just make out the gnarled root that had snagged his foot. The dirt was cool against his skin. Directly over him stood the massive figure of the werewolf. Great plumes of mist shot out from its long snout with each breath, and it let out a low and steady growl. It’s long, clawed fingers clenched and unclenched as it drank him in with its all-too-human eyes.
They were in a relatively clear patch of forest, and the moonlight better lit the werewolf.
The pair of hiking shorts stretched to their limits around its waist looked familiar. A small scrap of shirt left on one shoulder had the fragment of an emblem left on it, what looked like the remains of a large “U.” Jeremy suddenly realized why the eyes look so very familiar.
“Brent…” Jeremy breathed.
The werewolf cocked its head slightly to one side at this. Then it snarled.
Jeremy closed his eyes, waiting for the claws and teeth.
He felt Brent’s hot breath on the back of his neck. Any second now, he knew, it would be the end. He waited. What was taking so long? After a few more moment, he opened his eyes. When he turned to look, he saw that his nose was almost close enough to touch the snout of the werewolf. It was crouched over him, supporting itself on its muscular and furry arms.
Jeremy found that he liked the scent of the thing. That feeling of excitement returned, this time with a stiffening of his cock in his pants. The werewolf lowered itself slightly so that its hips were touching Jeremy’s ass. He felt something then. It was long, and hard like a rock. The werewolf had the biggest stiff cock Jeremy had ever seen. It was bulging in the thing’s shorts as it began grinding itself against his ass. Animalistic urges welled up within him, and he found himself grinding his ass back against the werewolf’s eager cock.
He gasped. The Brent-werewolf had lightly clamped its jaws around his neck and then pushed his head down with its own, pressing the side of his face into the dirt. His dick got harder as the thing slowly raked the claws of one hand down his back not quite hard enough to break the skin. When its hand reached his pants, it hooked the claws into the denim and tore it. The sound was loud in the relative quiet of the night.