The beginning of a werewolf tale

Chapter 5

Avon P.O.V
My lady bitz clenches around his muscled fingers, pleasure rippling in orgasmic waves through me, radiating from my crotch to every extremity. My fingers curl around the edge of the sink, landing smack in the middle of a wad of chewing gum, but at the moment I don't give a fuck. I moan my release, feeling the hand encompassing my hip grip harder, the fingers currently seated inside of me slowly stroke, prolonging my pleasure.

His teeth sink in a little deeper as I come down from the pleasure his touch granted me, sucking in heaving lungfuls of air, trying in vein to slow my racing pulse.

What. The. Fuck.

The dude has not 1, not 2, but 3 gargantuan fingers buried in my lady parts, his thumb pressed against my clit still calmly rubbing, the other gargantuan hand enveloping the almost entire left side of my pelvis, and his elongated canines buried in the left side of my neck above the other bite he gave me. And I'm letting him do all this. Unbelievable.

Ok. He's either a werewolf or a vamp. But judging by the absence of icky slurping noises, he's a wolf. He growls something into my shoulder, then starts licking the half crescents of slowly oozing teeth marks on the front and back of my neck.

He withdraws his fingers from inside of me reluctantly and, after a parting press, removes his thumb. He takes his hand from my undies and then in one swift, decisive yank, they are quite simply gone. He then withdraws his hand from my pants, still clutching my black cotton grannie panties, carefully placing the waistband of my pants to avoid them slapping me. With one parting lick he withdraws his mouth, leaving me feeling both cold and empty.

Which is ridiculous. He places the underwear in his pant pocket, then brings his still slick fingers up to his mouth, sensually licking them clean, all the while stairing with wrapped attention at my face. I feel another rush of moisture down there and mentally curse him with every bad word I can think of.

He opens his mouth and speaks in a low voice that is mingled with a growl. "What's your name?" Grunted in a thick Russian accented English. I push down a shiver, refusing to show any reaction than I already have.

Disregarding his question I state "Back up Rambo, or I'll shove your gonads into your throat."

Why the fuck did I say gonads and not balls like a normal person. A shadow crosses his adorable face as his warm hand leaves my pelvis and he backs away slowly as I peel my hands from the underside of the bench. I hop down from the sink and examine the wad of gum plastered to my skin. I turn on the tap and wait for the water to heat to run my stuck fingers under the stream.

"Are you going to answer my question, Ahren?" I scowled at him over my shoulder as the gum losened its grip on me. Most of the clump is off as I turn to the testosterone leaking Russian at my back. "I'll take that as an no then."

I gathered part of his shirt and started to rub the remaining gum off of my fingers. "Kak naschet togo, chtoby vy vytashchili svoyu zadnitsu iz vannoy dlya devochek i perestali rychat'?" (For those who will have to re-google translate this -How about you get your ass out of the girls bathroom and stop with the growling?). The raspy growl building is his chest simmers down to a low rumble as I take a peak at my hand and locate the last globs of saliva and strawberry squelch.

He looks a little taken aback that I know old Russian -it sounds cooler, don't judge- he steps back after I release his shirt and view my now clean hand. Rambo's watch ticks and I grab his corded flesh and manoeuvre it so I can see the time.

Shite, shite, shite, shite, Shite! My aunt Meg is going to kill me. "I've got to run. I've got a wedding to get to and I'm 15 minutes late already." I shift away, then rethink it. "I need a date, you'll do. Names Avon, you got a car?"