Wolf [ MF, cons, light bond, oral ]

By Crimson Dragon (dcrimson@yahoo.com)


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.

