My beast
My Beast.
The rapist ran after her. The girl ran away from him barefoot in the snow, her dress torn to shreds, doing nothing to hide her beautiful body. The guy began to fall behind bit by bit. Glancing back once more, the girl saw no pursuit; she slowed to a walk, breathing heavily—the frosty air rushed into her lungs, causing pain with every breath, her feet sinking into snowdrifts. She no longer remembered where she had come from, and there was no reason to go back, for HE was there. The cold quickly brought her to her senses; she couldn't feel her feet, and the dress could in no way pass for something warming. Moreover, the snow
began to fall quite heavily and the wind picked up. The unfortunate girl had not the slightest idea where to go, so after wandering around some rock, she lay down in the snow and prepared for death.Waking late at night, she found herself in an unfamiliar place, and naked at that, next to an equally naked man. He was asleep—she understood this from his even breathing; his hands were still on her shoulder and thigh, and her buttocks… oh, this couldn't be, he was pressed so tightly against her that she could feel his knees bent like hers, the hair on his chest and pubic area she also felt with her delicate skin.
He lightly touched the curves of her body—her waist, hips, shoulders, the hollow between her breasts, her navel—kissed the bends of her elbows and knees, her back and neck, her lips, earlobes, nipples and breasts which his palms squeezed. He inhaled her alluring scent, the scent of a girl; it drove him mad, awakened instincts and desires within him. He wanted her, all of her, but she was a willless toy in his hands, and if she died from hypothermia, it would be a pleasant end to her life—who knew how she had lived. He smelled her hair; it smelled of lavender and sandalwood. The poor thing's eyes were green; she opened them wide but saw nothing around her. Her breathing was ragged, her body shaking with tremors. Perhaps she wouldn't last until morning, poor little thing, looking about sixteen, pretty with honey-colored hair… He continued to stroke her, completely lost in his thoughts. A pity if she died; he rarely pitied anyone among people, he generally pitied no one. No one came to him; it wasn't necessary, for he was… an outcast. His house stood in the middle of a forest, impassable and dangerous. How had she gotten here, how had she found the way to his house, and, most unbelievably, to his soul.
He took her chin and tried to look into her eyes; they did not respond, tears stood in them, a stifled moan escaped her throat. You clearly need warmth, tenderness, and affection, the affection of a strong man. With these thoughts, he kissed her forehead, pressed against her chest, began kissing the tender mounds of her breasts, descended to her stomach, then down between her legs. He parted her little lips with his fingers and touched the glistening hole, ran his tongue gathering all the moisture and stopped at the bud of her clitoris. He began to suck on it, touching it now with his lips, now with his tongue. This went on for quite a while until he heard the girl's moans and felt his first victory.
The girl wrapped her arms around his neck and pressed against him with her full breasts; he gladly buried himself in her charms. She arched her back, throwing her head with its lush hair back and parting her lips slightly.
Through the window, clouds and the emerging moon were visible. When it had completely cleared from the clouds, the girl heard a terrible beast's roar and felt that her partner was transforming into a werewolf with a wolf's muzzle and huge claws on its paws. But the man himself was too engrossed in sex; he didn't even notice he had transformed. He only felt that the girl had shrunk a little and was screaming louder. He too was close to orgasm and came with her, howled, and the girl felt the semen flowing from her vagina, finding no room inside, but she felt so good that she felt no pain from his claws, only love for this monster.
When, having calmed down, they looked at each other, not embarrassed in the least, they hugged tightly and fell asleep. In his warm fur, she was calm; it was very cozy here, and with a loved one, it's always cozy everywhere.
The moon hid again, but they still lay in each other's arms, kissing. Any form of his is dear to her. My, my beast, I love you. So thought the girl. Mine, I won't give you to anyone, beloved. Thought the beast.
Author's e-mail: kulgе@mаil.ru