A Werewolf Blog in Brooklyn

Essential Baise | July 8, 2010

You might think two days of time out, would be refreshing.  But you’d be wrong. Especially considering there wasn’t much timed-out, for me, or Paris for that matter.

When I was going bat shit crazy with extremely rough foreplay, there was shape shifting, and then there was the sex

Yep, being in a werewolf in heat is not refreshing. Some wolves might consider it crazy tiring. But for me, it’s about learning balance, through pacing and endurance.  Werewolves are hardcore, we have to handle a lot of what life throws at us.

For me, I can handle this heat business because what’s the other option?

Let it take me over and over and over? And where does that leave me, with no sense of self, no control over anything about me?  It would make me vulnerable.  I never aspire for vulnerability. Ugh.  I wake up under a cotton sheet, wrapped up in Paris’s arms, his body pressed against mine, his leg hanging over my calf. 

 “Welcome to Casa de cage.” I hear him murmur from behind me, with a yawn.  Like he psychically knows I’m awake without seeing me open my eyes.

 I blink.

 Still in the fucking cage. 

 Only, you know, not fucking. 

Either I’m through this round of ‘being in heat’ or we’re on a break.

On the mattress, a cotton sheet generously draped over us. Why, I have no fucking idea. Werewolves don’t really take issue with nudity around one another. We’re all quite comfortable around nakedness.  Besides, there was no one else around, just us.  Paris must’ve spent most of his time with me in there.

Wherever there, was. 

I don’t even recall how we got into the cage.

Still, it could be worse than being under a cotton sheet, on a mattress, in a cage with a seriously hot male, naked behind me. We could be dead, I suppose.    People have died from too much heat and sex, as well as sexual heat before.  Luckily for us, neither of us is those unfortunate people. We are not mere mortals.   We’re werewolves. We love sex.  We sex love.

Sex to werewolves is as essential as air or water.  Of which there is a bottle near us.

I reach out for it stretching myself away from Paris and he growls at me, grabbing me by the hips quickly, pressing his readily hard body into my backside and pulling me back into him.

 “Possessive.” I mutter back at him, glancing back at him.

 “Hell yes.”

 I fling an arm out towards the water bottle I can see, just out of my reach.

“So did you want to fight the water bottle for me and get wet? Cause, got to tell you, I’m up for seeing you drenched.” I stretch my fingers out, trying to touch the water bottle.  “I could just suck all that aqua off you, until I was you know…hydrated again.”

He chuckles at me and I feel the laughter in his chest, against my back.  My fingertips touch the very edge of the bottle. 

“I’d suck, long and hard, and make sure my mouth got all the way around you.” The water bottle moves, slightly, away from me. Paris moans back in his throat, a deeply contended sound at this idea.

“My lips would work across your skin, heating them, the same time, I was sucking the water off you dry.”

My nails brush the edge of the water bottle and it wobbles.

“Baise.” He sighs, sounding tiredly happy.

But the word, distracts me from my mission to grab the water bottle, that I just don’t have enough reach on, without him letting go of me.  Maybe I’m still in heat. Maybe I’m just a ‘sucker’.

 “Ok.” I reply.

I can’t believe he wants more. We must’ve been in  the cage for a good forty eight hours by now.  And whilst I don’t remember all of it, my body tells me exactly what I’ve been up to. It feels highly used. 

I don’t think there’s a muscle on me, that doesn’t feel, worked out. I wiggle my jaw from side to side and run my tongue over my teeth and bottom lip. 

Okay, maybe one.

But not for much longer.

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