A Werewolf Blog in Brooklyn

Best part of Lunar Week | October 4, 2009

Burning Ground is an interesting club. It gets quite a mixed audience during Lunar Week. Where as The Reflex is for the younger crowd, and Disco and Rhyme is more my sister and her friends crowd and their nostalgia over the 1980’s music scene, Burning Ground is neither. Or rather, it could be both.

Everyone goes there, there’s no specific age group or music type or look to it. Which I’ve always found quite fascinating. It’s kind of like, anything goes is the golden rule there.

So second night of Lunar Week and that’s where Conall and I decide to be. You see, we don’t necessarily lock ourselves in our houses when Lunar Week starts up each month.

What would the point to that be?
We’d probably destroy everything in the house, in the process of shifting or coming to, in werewolf form.

The clubs are like foreplay for werewolves.
We’re all riding a wave of sexual wants, needs, desires and fantasies during Lunar Week. So we start our evenings off at the clubs, not so much to get us in the mood for sorting out those sexual needs. Rather for heightening all that sexual tension that we carry around with us, in the daylight hours of Lunar Week.

A pack atmosphere filled with heightened werewolf pheromones, it’s like we all use one another in there. Of course, all the dancing, sweating, grinding, rubbing against one another, adds to that desire, till you can feel it dripping down your skin. The sweat of sex, seeping further into you until you really can’t take no more, at least, publicly.

Although this is not always the case.

Sometimes you need to go with just how you feel.

A darkened corner in the club, and everyone is too busy doing their own thing to notice you and yours.

Eyes close briefly as a tongue licks up the side of my neck. His teeth sink into the back of my neck. He’s in no mood to wait and be restrained. He’s been patient enough all day. Going about normal life, working, doing the daily routine until he could be himself at night, with me, in Burning Ground. Till he could get me here to do just this. What he wants.

He wants me.

Hands run up the side of my body, holding me tightly, controlled with need to soak in the feel of my body in his hands. His thumbs brush the underside of my breasts and his teeth get harder, sinking into the skin across my back shoulder blades.

Serves me right for wearing a halter neck top.

Normally about this time, when his hard body is pressing into me, making sure I can feel what he isn’t verbalising to me, and he’s touching me so much, we would leave and head back to Conall’s place.

Normally I’m the instigator of this routine behaviour. After all, the boy has to shape shift for every night of the lunar week, I don’t. Especially not on the second night.

Sex helps shape shifting.

Well more precisely being with another wolf, helps shape shifting. There’s a feeling of safety and recognition and protection, which makes the werewolf calm down and so it doesn’t necessarily feel like you’re body’s being torn and ripped apart from the inside out. It tends to go a lot smoother if you are with another werewolf.

Add sex to that mix and it’s even better, smoother for those that need to shape shift around their partner.

It’s almost seamless and effortless and for the best part of all, fast.

A normal shift for a beta werewolf can take fifteen minutes to an hour, depending on the werewolf and circumstances. When you partner up and introduce sexual release into the mix, a shift is more like two to five minutes, max.

Conall and I know, exactly how long we have to tease out the sexual foreplay before he has to shape shift.

So he rides it out, because he can, because he wants to get me as worked up as him about what we’re both thinking of doing in the dark, at Burning Ground.

I don’t need to tell myself that this just for his benefit, as the back of my skirt slides up out of his way. Because it’s for my needs as much as his.

I may not need to shape shift, but I need to be with my werewolf.

Insanity would be what it feels like to be soaked in the air filled lust of the clubs during Lunar Week and then be alone and do nothing about it. I mean, the atmosphere the pack of werewolves creates in heat, is maddeningly delicious and touching it, tasting it, just once, would never be enough to be satisfying.

It’s like a powerful aphrodisiac, the body craves and responds to. It’s something I’d rather not, go without out.

After all, that’s the best part of Lunar Week.

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1 Comment »

  1. Already, the blog has scored several good reviews from blog review sites.

    Comment by Jamarion — October 4, 2009 @ 3:10 pm


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