A Werewolf Blog in Brooklyn

Unleashing | July 14, 2011

I smelt the blood before I even saw it on Paris‘s face. My head shot up and I looked over at my boyfriend as he walked into the room I was in. He dropped the sports bag heavily to the ground and my eyes zeroed in on the blood under his nose and around his mouth. Blood sports and werewolves, what a freak’n turn on.

He walked around to me, pulling his sweat stained t-shirt up over his head and off. Discarding it without care. I stayed still, where I was, at the end of the table, watching in anticipation as he walked around to me. Watching the way his body moved with the way he held himself, inhaling the sweat and blood he’d worked up and gotten from his boxing session. Yeah, he doesn’t box with gloves and protective gear. Alpha male, pack leader, likes to keep his skills sharp.

My eyes keep zeroing in on the mess around his otherwise pretty mouth. My nose keeps flaring as I enjoy the smell of his blood on his sweat covered, skin. He hones in on me and lifts me like I weigh nothing, up onto the table. Pushing apart my legs so he can stand between them. His hard groin meeting my moist heat at the edge.

I can hear his breathing is controlled and stilled like him. But that’s just a ruse. The heart beat racing under neath all that toned skin, is a give away to what he wants. There is a heat flaring up inside at me at the look of the predator before me. I can’t help it, it’s always like this with him.

One look up at those dark blue eyes and that’s all he get’s before I lunge at the swollen and bloodied mouth. He doesn’t wince at the action of my mouth devouring his brings. Paris merely responds, his arms pulling me in closer to him. His mouth matching mine, allowing my tongue to go where it will, over the blood trail over him.

Hands push my skirt up my legs and I feel his fingers, pull aside my underwear and feel the press of his hardened cock before he pushes into me tightly. I can’t moan because my mouth is too busy obsessing over the swollen bloody mess of his mouth and licking at it eagerly. He lifts my legs to wrap them around his hips, dragging me across the table towards him, so we can start this unleashing.

Blood sports and werewolves, what a turn on. I think Paris fights deliberately without protective gear so he can get bloodied and come home and do this with me. Fighting makes him hungry and not necessarily for food.

Our rhythm is fast and bumpy and all I can do is hold onto Paris as we let the sensation of blood, sweat and sex coat us and fill our senses with each other.

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1 Comment »

  1. Love this. This entry makes me so hot!! Reading it makes me wet in anticipation of this happening to me.

    Comment by Kylie — January 31, 2012 @ 2:03 pm


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