Wolf

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                                  Wolf
                      (MF, rom, light bond, oral)
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                        (c) Copyright - May 1998
                          All Rights Reserved
                            Crimson Dragon 
                          (dcrimson@yahoo.com)
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The mouse scurried carelessly through the grass, searching. Alert
eyes, also searching, watched patiently.
His eyes were drawn to her. It was hard to ignore her. She sat alone
on the other side of the smoky bar, watching the people as they
laughed, and cried, and imbibed. She looked stunning wearing a dark
evening dress that tantalized but also looked oddly out of place
amongst the tattered jeans of the other patrons. Her long blonde
hair sparkled as the flashing lights of the spinning disco ball
touched her. A flash of red, perhaps a rose, was grasped between the
fingers of her left hand. He hadn't seen her come in, but he was
reasonably sure that she would walk regally, just by her posture as
she sat. It was a little difficult to tell in the dim light and with
her sitting, but she looked like she would have a stunning figure as
soon as she rose off the stool.
Yet another drunken fool attempted to pick her up. He'd watched this
scene perhaps twenty times already. The drunken fool tries some
unheard pickup line. She flashes a glorious smile, pats the drunk's
arm and politely refuses whatever his offer was. If the fool isn't
too drunk, he generally moves away, a disappointed look on his face.
If he persists, she speaks a few more words to him, minus the smile
and the gentle pat, and he moves away, a more frightened look on his
face. This one moved away with the disappointed look.
She shifted her dazzling brown eyes towards him. He quickly looked
away, but not quickly enough. When he glanced up, she was still
staring at him. He flushed, but held her eyes for a moment. She
gestured, motioning him over to where she was sitting. He took a
deep breath and walked the length of the bar to her.
She leaned towards him, raising her voice above the music.
"Rum and coke, please? Easy on the rum?"
He snapped back to where he should be, nodded, and reached for the
bottle of Bacardi. He poured the drink and placed it in front of
her. As he raised his eyes, her deep brown eyes captured him. She
smiled sweetly, taking a small sip.
"Mind if I run a tab?" she asked.
It was her first drink, at least that he'd served her, and he was
pretty sure he'd notice her leaving. The whole bar was going to
notice her leaving. Generally the bar discouraged tabs, but he
didn't mind. He'd buy her drink if she disappeared on him. Any guy
in the bar would.
"Sure thing." He forced himself to turn away from the girl and
attend to the others pressing up against the bar.
His eyes returned to her after the crush had dissipated. She had
turned herself around to watch the dance floor. Her blonde mane
cascaded down her back while her body moved slightly to the music,
but she didn't rise to dance. Trans-X pounded from the speakers. She
fended off yet another drunken fool and returned to watching the
writhing people on the dance floor. Someone asked him for a beer. He
tore his eyes from her again.
                                  ***
The mouse sensed itself being watched in the darkness. It rose up on
its hind legs and peered above the grass. The watching eyes
remained, unblinking.
He became aware of her eyes on him again. He glanced up from mixing
a gin and tonic, almost feeling her eyes on him. Nobody had joined
her, yet, and last call was rapidly approaching. He idly wondered
for whom she was waiting. He had the distinct impression that she
wasn't waiting for anyone, that someone, perhaps one of the drunken
fools, not her date, had given her the rose in a failed attempt to
win her. He willed his legs to carry him back down to her end of the
bar. She followed him with her eyes as he approached. He leaned on
the bar.
Clearing his throat, he tried to keep his voice steady as he asked
the simple question. "Anything else I can get you? Last call is in
ten minutes."
She smiled up at him, her teeth flashing. "I'm fine thanks, how much
do I owe you?" Most of her rum and coke was still in her glass. She
took another tiny sip of the drink.
He took a deep breath and glanced around. Nobody listening. "It's on
me." Meatloaf was rumbling about taking the words right out of his
mouth over the crowded dance floor. Must have been while you were
kissing me. An unbidden image of her lips touching his raced through
his mind before he could stop it.
She raised her eyebrows almost as though she'd witnessed the vivid
fleeting image flashing through his mind. "Thank-you," emerged
simply from her ruby lips. She flashed her smile again causing
butterflies to surge through his stomach.
He swallowed and walked back to the crush that was about to happen
with the last call bell. Along the way, he dropped a five into the
till. As the last people refilled their glasses and grabbed one last
beer, he glanced over to the empty barstool. He thought he could
still smell the musky perfume she'd been wearing. Like a puff of
smoke, she had gone; he suddenly wasn't even sure she'd been there.
He hadn't noticed her leave. Sighing, he returned to the crowd that
was clamoring for its last alcohol of the evening.
The mouse, sensing the wolf's presence, stiffened. It glanced
around, but the eyes had shifted, moving silently through the
undergrowth to regard the prey from another vantage. The mouse
resumed its foraging.
                                  ***
His feet were killing him. He hated Friday nights, too many people,
too many drunken idiots. He smiled as he thought of how many that
blonde woman had had to fend off tonight. He couldn't blame the
jerks. He would have been in there as well being rejected if he
hadn't been behind the bar tonight. He couldn't seem to get her eyes
out of his mind. And that smile.
He glanced around the quiet bar one last time before he pulled the
doors shut behind him, using his key to lock up.
The wolf shifted its weight, causing the underbrush to rustle
unnaturally. The mouse stiffened again, looking around in fright.
"Hi," she spoke softly behind him. His breath caught in his throat,
stifling a scream. He struggled to control the surge of adrenaline,
caused by her appearance.
"You scared the hell out of me. Where the hell did you come from?"
he whispered without turning.
"Niagara."
He turned slowly. In the streetlights, she was stunning. Perfect
figure. Tall. She looked like she was born to wear the dark dress
she had on, had to be some fancy designer clothing. She could easily
have modeled it. Her hair contrasted wonderfully against the black.
Her small hand still grasped the red rose, though it looked slightly
wilted.
"Niagara?" he repeated dumbly, confused by her answer.
"Yeah. Born and raised. Nice waterfall there," her voice had a
mellifluous flow to it when it wasn't fighting the beat of loud
music. He was instantly captivated.
He searched his brain for some way to keep her talking and failed.
She smiled and stood there easily waiting for him, not bothered by
his complete inability to get his tongue in gear. She was probably
used to it.
"Who are you?" he finally found his voice. He couldn't stop his eyes
from traveling her body from her toes to her hair. She flushed
slightly at the overt inspection, but stayed her ground. Making up
her mind, she smiled and stepped forward, her small hand extending
towards him. As she moved closer, her scent washed over him. Poison.
"Stacy."
He swallowed and grasped her hand. Her hand was smooth and cool to
the touch as he grasped it. Red nails. He wondered how long she had
waited out here. For him.
"Brian."
The wolf moved closer, again stirring the leaves. This time the
mouse scurried instinctively away toward the hole in the ground
where it had made its home. The wolf froze, allowing the mouse to
calm.
"Stacy? It's been really nice meeting you, but I'm expected."
"Expected?" she paused and studied his face. "You aren't expected.
It's three in the morning, and you have the look of a bachelor. I
can see things. Nobody is waiting for you, are they?"
He took a deep breath and shook his head.
"Are you afraid of me?" she laughed gently.
"No. Don't be silly. I'm just tired is all. Just want my bed."
"And if I want it as well?"
He flushed, not used to aggressive women.
She lifted her hand to her mouth, afraid that she'd misread him
somehow. It happened, but it was rare. Maybe he was married, or gay,
or involved, or something. "I'm sorry. Perhaps that was too forward
of me. I'll go. I didn't mean to offend you. It was nice meeting
you, Brian."
She turned on her high heels and began walking away into the night.
He stood baffled by the doorway watching her figure move away, the
click of her heels ringing in his ears.
"Stacy?"
She turned, a questioning look upon her face.
"I. You just surprised me is all." He hurried to catch up with her.
"You turned down all those men tonight ..." his voice trailed off.
"You were wondering if I was into women or something?" she finished
his thought.
He swallowed again, unsure how to answer this without offending her.
She laughed at the look of confusion on his face. Her musical
merriment rang up the empty street.
"Brian? You looked shocked. That is what you were wondering, isn't
it? I've experimented. But that isn't the reason I turned them all
down."
"No?"
"I didn't like them. Simple. I go to bars to watch people, not pick
them up. You know you are the first bartender that hasn't hit on me?
The customers have an excuse for being dopey, they're drunk; the
bartenders don't, generally they haven't been drinking, or at least
they aren't supposed to."
The mouse stopped it's frantic run and settled back down, the danger
forgotten for now. It began scenting for food. The wolf watched
patiently.
They walked along in silence, only the sound of their footsteps
falling into the night. The two arrived at his apartment, climbing
the stairs through the silent building. He turned to her before
opening his door.
"Stacy?"
"Mmmmm?" she murmured.
"You should know that I wasn't expecting company. The place is a
mess."
"Is there another girl in there?"
"No."
She smiled. "Then I don't mind. A mess just proves you are a normal
single guy. Maybe I'll clean it for you in the morning."
His heart was hammering as he slipped the key into the lock and held
open the door for her. As she entered the small apartment, she
kicked off the high heels, her stockings whispering across the
hardwood. She glanced around the studio apartment, smiling at the
male decor and the mess. He closed his eyes wishing that he'd at
least picked up the underwear before heading out to work.
As the door clicked shut behind him, she melted into his arms. Her
soft lips touched his. Her breathing quickened as she pressed her
soft body into his. They kissed for what seemed like hours in the
front hallway. She gently guided him, still kissing her, to the bed,
their bodies entangled as they fell.
She broke the kiss and sat up on the bed, staring at his face. Her
fingers fumbled with the buttons of his shirt, pulling it open and
off him. Her breath was ragged and heavy. He felt her soft fingers
tugging at the remainder of his clothing until he was nude. She
pressed back into him, arousing him, her nylon encased legs sliding
along his legs, playing with her toes. She climbed on top of him,
teasing his lips with hers, panting.
She playfully slapped at his fingers as they reached for her dress.
"Please?" he whispered.
"You have to do something for me, first."
"Anything."
"Promise you won't freak?"
"You aren't going to pull a Crying Game on me, are you?"
She laughed, her musical voice lighting up the darkened room.
"Nothing like that." She reached over the bedside into her purse. He
stiffened. For all he knew she had a gun or something. It had been
known to happen in this city. He prepared to buck her off him if she
showed any evil intent. She smiled and showed him what she had in
her small hands. Chrome. It took him a moment to recognize the metal
as handcuffs.
He swallowed and slowly shook his head.
"Stacy? I'm not ready for that."
"Not for you, silly. For me. You won't hurt me. I know you won't. I
know a lot about you. I cum harder. Please? I'll make it worth your
while."
He gulped, had heard about these games, but never had the inkling to
try them.
The mouse glanced around again, suddenly nervous. The wolf gathered
her strength to spring, pausing, unsure. With the prey aware, she
might not get her dinner.
"Please? You can take them off me as soon as we're done. I don't
even have to stay if you don't want."
He nodded slowly, still unsure, but not seeing any danger in
restraining her. He was far too aroused to turn her out even if he
wanted to. She stood on the bed and slowly dropped the dress from
her body. No bra, her perfect breasts revealed themselves, glowing
softly in the light from the window. Her nipples were fully erect,
rising and falling with her laboured breathing. She was wearing no
panties, merely a black garter belt and nylons. No Crying Game.
She grinned at his look of surprise and open admiration of her.
"Underwear is so damn uncomfortable, don't you think?"
He dumbly nodded as she lowered herself to her knees beside him. She
loosely held her wrists behind herself and allowed him to close the
steel around her. She pulled at them, satisfied. She turned back to
him. She bent, trailing her soft tongue down his stomach, across his
belly button to his throbbing penis. She teased him, using her lips
and tongue to arouse him further. The sight of this perfect woman,
naked and helpless, and arousing him was pushing him to the point of
no return. He touched her bobbing head.
"You can climax into my mouth," she whispered, stopping her teasing
briefly to speak. "I don't mind."
"I'll be useless for you if I do that."
"You have a tongue, too, don't you?"
He felt her warm lips engulf him again as she continued. Her tongue
teased him on each downstroke, her hands rattling the chain holding
her. Unable to stop the sensations, he felt himself tighten
thrusting up into her mouth, all his muscles contracting in unison.
He cried out as he felt her swallowing.
The mouse sensed the wolf as it became far too late. She sprang,
surprising the small creature. The mouse dodged and raced through
the grass, the wolf's paw missing it by millimeters.
Spent, he fell back gasping into the pillows. He looked up at her.
She smiled at him and struggled to move herself to straddle his
face. It took some gymnastics with her hands bound, and he had to
help her, but she managed it. He found himself staring up between
her smooth tight thighs anticipating her taste. She took a deep
breath and lowered herself until he could reach her. His tongue
traced down her lips, eliciting gasps of pleasure from the girl. He
darted inside briefly. She was more than ready, her moisture coating
him as he teased her. Her swollen clitoris was throbbing as her head
swam with fantasies. His tongue finally found where she wanted. She
pressed herself down, letting him know silently where she wanted him
to remain. Slowly he circled her until she began to beg quietly, her
wrists twisting in the metal just above him. His fingers traced her
soft skin as she gasped. His tongue lightly stroked her center until
she, too, found her muscles contracting without being in control.
She screamed his name as the waves of the orgasm washed over her
body, pulling viciously at her trapped wrists. Eventually, she
collapsed on top of him and after a few moments of trying to catch
her breath, she moved herself around to lay her head gently on his
chest.
Both of them struggled to control their breathing, enjoying the
afterglow. He stroked her blonde hair gently as they relaxed further
towards sleep.
He had a nagging thought that he should release the girl, but
fatigue fell upon him and her too quickly. They slept, her still
uncomplaining in her chains.
The chase was over almost as fast as it began. The mouse dodged once
in the wrong direction and the dance was complete. The small
creature briefly felt the powerful teeth close. Juice is like wine.
                                  ***
He awoke to the afternoon sun streaming through the open shades. He
barely remembered last night. It seemed like a vaguely erotic dream,
ethereal like smoke on a mirror. He turned over to an empty bed. It
could've been a dream, but he could still taste her, feel her on his
lips. He was sure it had happened. He sat, feeling an emptiness to
the apartment.
He struggled out of the sheets and stumbled to the bathroom. The tub
was still wet from her shower. Taped to the mirror was a small
chrome key and a slip of paper. A single wilted red rose was placed
carefully in the sink.
"Thank you for last night," the note read. "To offer your throat to
the wolf with the red roses."
It was signed in red pen. Two tiny roses and a small drawing of a
wolf.
She was gone.