May 2023 – Audio Version

True delight and happiness can be found in the presence of two souls connecting over a superb meal. Such was my evening with the Gentleman. Warm buttered bread knots, and steaming lasagna, intermingled with gentle whisps of fingers brushing exposed skin and “accidental” nudging of feet under the table. The evening could have ended there, and I would have been wonderfully pleased, but then, there would be no salacious story to tell you, now would there?

Neither the Gentleman nor I had imbibed at dinner, and I wondered if his kisses would carry the same alluring flavor of smoked caramel with whisps of bourbon. Perhaps his kisses would be more reminiscent and taste of Italy. My Inner Goddess was panting in curiosity.

This being our second encounter with the Gentleman and his smoked caramel & bourbon embraces, I was slightly more in tune with my Inner Goddess as we walked to my door. Aware of his keen sense of humor, I assumed a nonchalant air, offering wine or a simple handshake at the door. My Inner Goddess glowed in our teasing. 

“Yup, just the handshake.” He played along, “That’s all I’m here for.”

My Inner Goddess was all aflutter as we pushed deeper into my home. I glided past him, set the leftovers into the fridge, and stepped out of my espadrilles as he waited in the front room. I grinned as he extended his hand to me. 

“Ready for my handshake.” Did I detect a growl in his voice?

I took his massive hand in mine but sucked in my breath as he used the connection to jerk me into his body. My knees turned the consistency of pudding and nearly refused to bare my weight as his lips pressed into mine. But, gods, he did taste of Smoked Caramel & Bourbon!

“Please,” I begged my Inner Goddess, “Try to be at least a little coy!” However, my pleading was pointless as she took complete control melting into his body as his arm supported our jellied knees. 

In a single smooth lift, the Gentleman hoisted me into his arms as my legs instinctively wrapped around his wide hips. I could not stop kissing him as he carried me in his burly arms. His taste was intoxicating as our mouths locked in an impassioned embrace. I barely registered my bedroom until I felt myself gently lowered into the cushioned embrace of my bed. 

His nimble fingers untied the belt around my waist and the knotted ties around each ankle before shimming me out of my pale blue jumpsuit. The tiny noir lace panties I had carefully choosen for the occasion were whisked off my body with barely a glance in their direction. I was mildly perturbed at this. 

“Why did men never take the chance to admire my delicates?” I mused. Time and money had been thoughtfully put into my stylish appearance. In this instance, I could have been wearing plaid boxers for all it mattered. 

“That’s where you want this wolfish man’s attention?” Asked my Inner Goddess incredulously. “On your underwear?!”

“Of course not,” I retorted. “But I did put effort into choosing a captivating pair to match my bra.” My Inner Goddess huffed but was immediately distracted by the sound of my bra as it was pulled from my breasts and smashed into the blinds. She giggled as he stripped out his shirt and moved across the bed to my naked body with sinuous grace.

The Gentleman was edging closer, working his way up my naked and exposed legs. Something was different this time. I could see it in his demeanor and the coiled energy in his muscles. Our dinner conversation had been open, and assurances were made on both sides that no relationship or commitment was being sought—simply friends open to occasional adventures, delectable food, and possible naughty escapades. Though cautious, the gentleman was unquestionably less restrained this time.  

There is something powerful and heady when a man hovers over my body—leaving me feeling tiny, petite, and waiting to be ravished. Looking up, I could see a burning hunger flaring in his eyes. I could not hold his gaze for long. I was not afraid of what I beheld flickering in his tawny eyes. I could trust him, but the werewolf-like intensity was almost too much to behold. I drew my eyes shut and focused on his wandering hands. 

His left paw held my wrists crisscrossed above my head. My sapphire curls lay vibrant against the snow-white of my comforter. The Gentleman’s fingertips wafted over my pale skin, raising the slightest goosebumps as his tips whispered passed. He was agonizingly slow in his inspection of my hip, over my abdomen, under my left breast over the top of my right breast. I watched his hand, mesmerized by his touch and our contrasting skin tones. My soft blush porcelain stood out in sharp contradiction to his deep Mediterranean bronze. I briefly wondered about his heritage, flipping through my mental Rolodex as I tried to remember if this topic had been previously discussed.

“Seriously?” Huffed my Inner Goddess. She was rightfully most annoyed with me. Why was my mind wandering so much? I grinned sheepishly and returned my focus to the poised lupine form above me.

My hips rose and undulated, seeking contact against his coarse navy jeans. I licked my lips, longing for the sweet taste of caramel and bourbon once more, but he was relentless in his arduously lazy journey. I raised my body, trying to press against him, a sign I was hopelessly ready for more. 

With wolfish lithesomeness, he worked away from the northern peaks of my breasts, south to the moist river of my goddess. Even here, he teased his prey, toying with my need. Little breaths and nips on my inner thighs. Kisses on my mound, just above my pearl, as he avoided my eager hips as they tried to shorten the distance to his lips. Finally, with a wolfish grin, he sat back on his heels and gazed at my body with rapacious desire but made no move. 

Unable to restrain myself, my fingers reached down to at least console my pearl in her hour of need. He tilted his head to the side but did not seem pleased. This only drove my fingers to explore my goddess further. If he was not going to enjoy my goddess, I certainly would. 

Like a predator, knowing he was in full control, he slid a thick black belt from his waist and set it gently on my outstretched abdomen. Not the move I was expecting. I had momentarily withdrawn my fingers at the sight of the belt but now returned to enjoy myself at this odd turn of events. I could see his mind working, not quite sure what to do with me, analyzing just how much of his rapacious appetite to release. The Gentleman might be a Werewolf, but he had yet to encounter the succubus of my Inner Goddess. I grinned; perhaps he had met his match in us. Of course, the night was young, and my Inner Goddess was only warming up. 

Suddenly, he leaned forward and grasped both of my wrists in one paw as he wound the black belt around them. I was rather impressed with his skill as the long strip of leather became compact cuffs. The Werewolf was no novice. I. Liked. This.

He held the dangling strap with one hand as only his warm breath returned to my quivering thighs. Oh, no! This would not do at all. I had been teased quite enough, thank you very much! Still bound, I found a bit of slack in my restraint and maneuvered my fingers south to my need. I did not make it far.

“These hands are certainly getting in the way.” His voice held a deep, savage rumble as my hands were jerked to my left and pinned down against the bed. The buckle of the belt cut into my wrist something dreadful, though my Inner Goddess was filled with wild delight. 

He toyed with me, utterly oblivious to my wriggling hips and body. The fingers of his free hand traced and then gripped my flesh, not in tiny pinches but whole handfuls of muscle and tissue. It was a new experience to have so much of me so powerfully grabbed, and I audibly moaned. Then, encouraged by my response, he continued, his grip becoming ferocious and greedy as he took my thighs, hips, and with a quarter flip, my buttocks.

“JUST EAT ME!!” Begged my Inner Goddess. “Lick me – ANYTHING!” She implored, frantic for his mouth on our pearl. 

Satisfied, I was adequately frenzied; he released my body from his almost painful grip. I lifted my head to watch his jet-black mane as he lowered his great head between my spread thighs. His wide wet tongue took one loong lick. 

“Goooooddddsss! Yes, don’t stop!!!” Shrieked my Inner Goddess as he paused. I think the sadistic side of him wanted to draw out my yearning, but his gentlemanly side won the internal battle. His lips and amorous tongue returned until I was writhing in pleasure, my hands still cuffed within the leather of his belt. 

He fed on my goddess, my body, and my palpable need as his mouth ravished me. Nip, squeeze, lick. In his hunger, he quite forgot the strap, though I kept my hands still, bound as they were in leather. My body starved for touch; I gave him free rein. 

Still, the Werewolf moved with constrained eagerness as his hand applied pressure to my neck. Nothing truly constricting and not even breath play. More of a power move. I wondered if it was a deliberate delay or if he was concerned about frightening me and causing undue harm. I am stronger than my petite frame suggests, and I hungered for his voracious appetite. Nonverbally, I sought to reassure him. My body rose to meet his feral advances, tilting my hip up to his mouth, moaning as he lifted my leg, toes pointed to the ceiling as his hands traced my skin. He planted soft kisses on my ankle.

His dark eyes, I still could not settle on their color, noticed my enslaved wrists. Rather than releasing me, his calloused paws gripped my hips as he twisted me onto my abdomen. The strap pulled my hands over my head to rest at the nape of my neck. 

Tender kisses up the length of my body blended with the cruel grasp of his hands as he clutched my muscles. Rising onto my elbows, I leaned into his kisses as he brushed the sapphire curls from my cheek with his forefinger. Mmmm, still smoked caramel and bourbon in his needy kisses, with no hint of my nectar on his lips. I breathlessly kissed him again, rapacious for his tongue until his hold on the leather became lax around my wrists. 

His right hand flowed down my spine, fingertips over the curve of my buttocks, caressing the back of my thigh. The Werewolf paused before his nails bit into the flesh of my leg, just above the bend of my knee. With excruciating slowness, five nails clawed my vulnerable skin. The long line cut deep furrows in one smooth sequence, retracing the formerly caressing stroke. I groaned as the pain raked up my ribs to my narrow shoulder and in toward my neck. Still prone with my wrists held fast behind my head, I gasped and breathed through the pain, burying my face in the covers while my Inner Goddess coiled and writhed in carnal elation. 

Internally, I pleaded for the needlelike agony to complete the path down the opposite side of my body. The Werewolf did not disappoint. His claws lacerated the sensitive skin all the way down to my right thigh, leaving my Inner Goddess giddy in the torment of our flesh. 

Releasing my redding skin, his rugged hand smoothed over the rise of my peaches while fingertips whispered over the crease moving ever closer to my goddess. I bit my lip in readiness for his touch, and my fingers laced together at the base of my head. His fingers wiggled closer, deeper, as I reared up onto my knees in a puppy yoga pose, presenting myself for his pleasure. My knees spread as I opened to him. 

With calculated dexterity, he moved alongside my swaying hips. The long fingers of one hand swirled my dewy pearl while the fingers of his other hand glided through the silken folds and entered my goddess. I rocked into the fists of his hands as my need surged. I thumped and pushed into his fists over and over. His hands were otherwise occupied, yet my wrists remained restrained in the rugged strap, my hands bunched into the pillows for support as I cried my pleasure. 

Withdrawing his hands, he left me gasping and limp on the damp bedding. Finally, I transitioned or rather collapsed to my back, arms flung to the sides as my lungs filled with desperately needed oxygen. My back burned from his raking, and my muscles ached from his primal embrace. I waited for his return, eyes closed as he moved to the foot of the bed to remove his jeans and socks. Music from the outer rooms floated in as my senses returned to the mortal realm, and I reconnected to my soul. 

A small pop followed the rustle of thick material, but I thought nothing of it. Bodies make all sorts of quirky noises. What pricked my ear was the slight groan that followed. Was that, was that laced with the slightest trace of a whimper? I elevated my head to see his hunched form bent between my dresser and the foot of the bed. 

“You okay?” I inquired. 

“Yeah,” His response was husky, causing me to move to the foot of the bed to investigate. The Werewolf clutched his long foot in both hands. “I stubbed it on the edge of the dresser.” He said with half a laugh.

Yet, unlike a mere stubbing of the toes, the pain increased as he manipulated and sought to massage his wounded foot. It became apparent this was not a minor injury but truly a break or two of the foot bones. All thoughts of intimacy and seduction fled my mind, and my Inner Goddess clapped her hands to her mouth in consternation. I grabbed a robe as he sat on the edge of the mattress and attempted to pull and reset the damaged members. My concern rose as his swarthy skin took on a pale-greenish hue, and the wolfish fire dissipated from the depth of his eyes.

Releasing his foot, he lay back with a laugh. This hardly felt like a laughing matter. The Gentleman had just broken his foot, in my bedroom! Because of my furniture and the layout of my room. I maintained a calm, albeit worried exterior but was inwardly distraught. Nevertheless, he pulled me close to his chest, assuring me he was fine, and refused my offerings of ice, pain meds, and especially a trip to urgent care. I knew medical care was rather extreme for a foot, but his pale visage pulled at my anxiety.

He tightened his grip, and I hesitantly melted into his extraordinary kisses until I straddled his brawny waist. It was so easy to give in to him. I felt torn between the desire reigniting in his gaze and the tightness of his clenched jaw. 

After a time, he whispered, “You know, maybe I will take some Aleve or something.” 

That settled it. I was sending him home before the pain was too intense for him to drive. I draped my curves in an amaranthine shift before reaching into my medicine cabinet as he slipped into his shirt and retrieved his shoes. We slowly made our way to the front room for a glass of water. 

It was a mistake to join him on the couch as he leaned down to untie his shoe. One kiss turned into a passionate second kiss as he leaned into my willing body. I cupped his face and moaned as a bit of his wolfish inclinations returned, his arms pinning me against his chest as he nuzzled my exposed neck. I could see the wheels turning in his head, feeling as torn as I was about the situation. This was not exactly how either of us expected the evening to end. 

“You could sit back, and I could straddle your lap.” I offered. “That way, you wouldn’t have to move at all.” My Inner Goddess vigorously nodded her assent. His hand was now clasped at the arc of my neck while his hot breath taunted the cleavage of my breasts as they peeked above my silken shift. 

“That would only work for a little while.” The growl was decidedly back in his voice. “But then I’m going to want to flip you over and take back control. That’s just the way I like it.” 

My Inner Goddess swooned at his words, and our mind raced with the greedy imagery of being ravaged in such a hungry manner. Yet, regard and consideration pushed through the fantasy with a firm handle on reality. If this wolfish gentleman truly wanted to devour me in such a manner and was still holding back after all my consent, he must indeed be in the greatest of misery. The greenish tint to his face was increasing, and his body was beginning to shake. This just would not do. 

The Gentleman chuckled and joked with his spirits still high as he slipped on one shoe, tied the laces, and held the other lightly in his hand. I walked him to the door, eliciting a promise to text me once he safely arrived home. With a final animated kiss, I applied light pressure to his lower back and gently ushered him through the door.

Alone again, I sighed and seated myself on the sofa with a small finger of El Dorado 12-year rum. It felt like a vain attempt, but I needed to sort out the events of the evening and my swirling emotions. Concern, embarrassment, worry, confusion, chagrin, horniness, neediness, lust, passion, and disappointment all picked on my mind. Another sigh and then a chuckle. While truly distressed for the Gentleman and already missing his caramel and bourbon kisses, it all boiled down to laughter. He had been genuinely good-natured and joked about it. No hard feelings, and in spite of his pain, he had not sworn nor lost his temper. Both would have been understandable, but my esteem for the Gentleman and his noble manners notched a little higher. 

Sipping the last of my rum, I retreated to my room. The disheveled sheets were a reminder of my wolfish guest. I reached into the cubby of my headboard. Tossing the small vibrator up and down in my hand, I grinned. At least there was always Black Beauty to see to my insatiable needs. 

Until next time, XO. Elsie