Paranoid Sex Dreams

It chased her through the forest.

She was a gazelle, he a hungry wolf. A mere fairy tale. But fairy tales can be terrifying, twisted, perverse. This was all three.

She leapt high over a fallen tree, then another and another. The wind that had brought dozens down was still there, echoing like shells on the beach in her pointy ear.

The wolf was a good jumper, but not as good as she. She made some headway in escaping; she expected to get away. But there is always an advantage in being behind; you don’t need to concentrate on anything but the thing you are after, the thing in front.

She turned her head to see if he was fading and missed a low branch. An antler clattered against it, and for a few precious moments, she nearly stopped altogether. He was nearly at her now.

She took off again, her heart beating so fast she could taste the adrenaline, and he was so close she could feel his hot breath on her thighs. He could bring her down and devour her now with one well-timed leap.

But she knew now this wasn’t about eating her, or even killing her; this was another kind of carnal desire. His heavy breath, the longing in his eyes, it meant only one thing: he meant to have her, to know her Biblically, to fuck her.

This couldn’t be right, though? They were two different beasts. What perversion was this? But she also felt that there was something more to the animals they were, something human.

She couldn’t understand. She only knew she had to get away, or he would force himself on her. She also knew, deep down, that she could never escape.

She was tiring when it happened. Her long, thin, strong legs gave way on a much steeper slope than she had anticipated. She crumpled and rolled. The hill was almost a ball, and she knew she could not stop tumbling until she reached the bottom. She could only hope she would be alive when she did.

Seconds later, he hit the same stop. If he had been running after prey in the normal sense, he would have stopped himself and taken his time. He would have found an easier way down the long hill and eaten a dead body or finished off a nearly dead one.

However, he was too deeply in the throes of need. He couldn’t stop now; he had to have her. He went over the edge and was soon tumbling too.

She had approached the edge sideways; he had gone full pelt at it. His tumbling was faster than hers. He soon caught her up.

And in that moment, both of them were human. She felt his dirty paws on her, and then they were big workman’s hands, rough and calloused. She was naked, and so was he. He pulled at her slim shoulders, trying to roll with her, on her front or back; he didn’t seem to care where he touched her.

His cock was hard against her even now, and he wanted so much to push it inside her that he appeared to care more for that than their imminent death. He pulled at her tits, grabbed hold of her hair, and wrenched her ass towards him with nails sticking into her hips painfully.

Then they hit the ground.

They bounced apart, winded by the impact, parting to recover but not able to move.

Panting.

Stillness.

He stirred first, his nose sniffing the air. She couldn’t move; she had to hope he was mortally wounded, or all hope was lost.

He was not.

He sniffed with his wolf nose and shuffled towards her. She looked down at her body, all the movement she could manage. She was still a human woman; she had not gone back to being a gazelle.

He licked her feet with a long, rough tongue. She expected him to bite into them, to start there with his tearing her apart. He did start there, but not to eat her in that sense at least.

He lapped at her feet like he was cleaning them, which he probably was. They must be covered in mud and leaves and poor trampled bugs. She was filthy.

He kept going up to her calves, one then the other. The mud and grasses were wiped clean by his tongue, leaving her skin gleaming white, but she didn’t feel clean. His tongue left an invisible residue everywhere it touched; of something nasty, something wrong. The parts of her body it met no longer felt like they belonged to her. When the wolf tongue reached her thighs, she trembled with fear. Or was it excitement?

She was cleaner here, fewer splashes of dirty water had reached that high, but his tongue increased its pace, its eagerness.

In her head, she turned to try and flee, but in reality, she opened her legs for him.

The wolf was in. The clear invitation had not been lost on him, and he left parts of her thighs uncleaned to go straight into her cunt.

His cold, damp nose hit first and made her shudder. She threw her head back, trying not to look at what she was letting this animal do, begging him to do in her head.

But she had to look. Perversion took over. She had to see. He was inhaling her damp scent deeply, smelling more than men or women ever smelled when they went down there, with his sensitive nose.

And she sighed deeply when his long, rough tongue came out and plunged inside her.

Oh, my god! What human could do that? Fuck me with a tongue! Who? No one.

She needed this. She longed for this. This is what she had always needed, craved, but tried to shut out of her mind. It was only when dreaming that her head became uncensored and she let it all happen.

He then went wild, licking at her pussy, hurting her clit in the most delicious way. She kept watching, propped up on her elbows on the grass. Just behind his tongue, she saw big fangs, terrifying fangs: It only made her more excited.

It wasn’t long until this wild dog-like thing was bringing her off in the most sensational way. Her pussy was no longer hers. It was his. It was covered in his saliva, and that knowledge made everything blow her mind apart. Her climax went on and on.

She threw herself backwards again, staring up at the clear blue sky. She dug her hands in the dirt and screamed. She felt like more of a beast than he was.

She was sated, and her breathing slowed a little. She had been panting heavily after she had held her breath to cum. She was aware for sure now it was a dream, and so she could choose what came next. She could decide to move from the bottom of a deep gully, having her cunt licked by a wild animal, to lying on a beach, if she wished.

Awareness of a dream is choice. She could fly if she wanted to. She had done that before.

Then why was he now moving up her body and standing over her, grunting and salivating in her face? Was she choosing hot drips of spittle landing on her cheeks and eyebrows? Was it all real after all?

She turned away from him, getting up slightly on her hands and knees to escape. But what choice was this? Why do that, when there was only one more thing he needed from her?

His wolf cock was inside her so quickly it took her breath away.

Did it feel different to a man’s? She was not sure. She presumed, as he held it still inside her for a moment, that this was a man’s cock, that for this he had transformed back. But still she tried to picture the thing that was possibly moving inside her. She felt sick. She felt elated.

He became violent in his need, fully mounting her and pumping her ‘doggy’ style. She made an effort to get away, but she knew that was only so he would hold her in place more tightly.

His heavy paws reached over her slender shoulders, his claws dug in, and she was sure there must be blood. He bucked in a mechanical way, banging hard against her arse.

He must have been close to cumming as he became more frantic, his hard jaw resting and rocking on the top of her head, banging her skull.

She thought about the legendary lock that a dog is supposed to have with a bitch right after climax. That made her shudder, even as he slammed against her body. She imagined him switching to her ass, not on purpose but because he slipped out and went back in whatever hole his wolf cock met first. She wanted both of these things, she realised. The pain, the scratches, it all made her coming orgasm more intense.

But she didn’t get there. She woke up before the beast, or her, had finished. Her boyfriend snored beside her. That would not do. She pushed her ass against him, moaned loudly, shared her soft skin with him, her firm little ass.

“Fuck me, babes. Fuck me. I’m so horny.”

He was young, he could get hard and be on call whenever a woman needed it. He didn’t need foreplay or even to be properly awake. He was hard when he ploughed into her from behind.

“Fuck me. Fuck me like a dog.”