The Shifter's Mate (Paranormal Pleasures) (3 page)

“I’m sooo horny, baby,” she whispered hotly, sucking at his neck. “Won’t you fill me up again, please?”

“Christ...Maryse...” he shook his head. “They’ll hear us.”

“I don’t care.” She really didn’t. “I want them to hear. I want them all to know how good you fuck me.”

Still, he hesitated. In his mind, anyway—his body was clearly willing, judging from the bulge her hands stroked through his pants.

“What if I just...sucked you off?” she offered. “Or sucked you and got you good and ready? If you got a nice stiff cock in my mouth, could you decide then, baby?”

“Fuck,” he said, feeling up her tits. His big hands mashed them together—so soft, just for him. “Yeah...yeah, okay.”

She got on her knees, happy to please. Even in the dark, Maryse knew just what she was doing, and it wasn't long before her tongue looped around the stiffening bulb of his cockhead, sliding her perfect lips on her man. His big meat entered her mouth, instantly causing a wave of happy, eager saliva to surge forward.

Maryse loved to tease and taunt, but that didn’t change the fact that she still loved a good lay. Bryce got everything she could give with her oral abilities—her every suck was practiced and sexualized, her every sound exaggerated to elicit even more pleasure from him. Men liked knowing that hot babes like her were turned on by giving head.

Her pussy flooded with arousal as Bryce began to fuck her mouth in earnest, holding her hair, forming pigtails with his hands as handles.

“Fuck, Maryse, you're so good. You're so tight. You're gonna make me...gonna make me...”

Bryce could have such a short fuse, especially when he was drunk. Maryse found herself not caring though—and moaned all the more, her throaty vibrations running over his big cockmeat. She
wanted
him to cum.

And as if sensing her need, he groaned again and released, sending a flood of semen down her throat and into her belly. Maryse swallowed it all—she was a hot babe, through and through, and she knew hot babes always swallowed. Maryse would do anything at all if it made her sexier to the people around her.

Several minutes later, when Bryce had calmed a bit, the two of them stepped out of the closet, and everyone gave them cautious, skeptical applause. Maryse grabbed Bryce hard and kissed his neck, licking in an almost animalistic fashion.

“It’s summer,” she said. “Time to live a little, am I right?”

Everyone laughed...and then there was a sharp, loud moan.

They all looked at each other, searching for the source of the sound. The moan came again, pushing hard through the cabin. It was hot and loaded with tension.

“We all heard that, right?” Bryce asked.

Nervous nods abounded. Again, there was a hot, wet moan, originating from outside. Curious and a bit scared, the eight of them began to huddle toward the center of the cabin.

“What
is
that?” asked Maryse.

It sounded like...

“Hell if I know,” said Bryce.

“Right,” said Lauren. “I know I
certainly
don’t know what that sound is.”

Lauren’s denial only made Maryse’s suspicions that much more clear—it was...it had to be...

“Is it someone...masturbating?” asked one of the twins—Maryse couldn’t tell which.

The nine of them started giggling and laughing, the alcohol catching up with them. No way, they began to say. No way is someone masturbating right outside!

It would have to be Natalya—it was definitely a woman’s voice, and she was the only girl not there.

“Why don’t we sneak up on her?” Maryse said. “Scare her a bit? It’ll be fun!”

Even under optimal circumstances, Maryse's influence was hard to deny. With everyone as drunk as they were, resistance was almost non-existent. Quickly, a plan was formed, and they split up in groups of four. Because, of course, Lauren abstained.

“I’m not doing this,” Lauren insisted. “It’s totally gross.”

“Come on!” Maryse took her hand, stroking it, putting on all her charm. “It has to be all of us. Please, Lauren?”

She shook her head, adamant.

“Come on,” said Bryce. “Maryse isn’t going to stop asking. Let’s just do this and get it over with, huh?”

Maryse tried very hard to hide her suddenly angered expression—an old trick for her, when everyone always wanted her smiling and pretty. Was
that
how Bryce thought of her?

Perhaps sensing Maryse’s unease with the rationalization, Lauren actually acquiesced.

“Okay,” she said. “But I’m taking a blanket to help them cover up.”

They organized outside in quick lines in the darkness outside the cabin, and on Maryse’s command, started their circling motion. Everyone was light-headed with booze and with trying to hide their ceaseless giggles.

But their little prank was lost as soon as they found out who the person in question was.

It was Heather—on her knees and bent over backwards on the grass, her body on display under the floodlight behind the cabin. The tight, yoga-toned muscles of her torso were glistening with her sweat and juices. Her face was expectant—happy to see them—and also full of torrentially hot bliss.

“Yes!” she moaned. “Yes! God yes!”

Because Heather wasn’t just bent over backwards...she was also happily fucking her pussy with her fingers. Rubbing her clit hard with her thumb, her fingers pushing in and out, in and out. Her face almost manic with pleasure.

Maryse’s strong bisexual side flared up. This was fucking hot, even with as weird as it was. She had no idea Heather could look so damn sexy.

“Sooo good!” Heather moaned. “Sooo good! Fucked me soooo good!”

“What the hell?” Lauren broke through the line surrounding Heather and tossed her the blanket.

It landed on top of Heather, covering her somewhat, but still the camp owner continued.

“Sooo good,” she moaned again. “Soo good. Sooo, soooo goood...”

Nearby was a long line of bushes and trees, their contents entirely hidden by the darkness. As they stared at Heather, the bushes began to shake tremendously, and a groan let out from behind them.

“Who’s there?” Lauren demanded, fists clenched. “You come out here right now and show yourself!”

And to all their surprise, it was Caleb who pushed out from the bushes, his eyes heavily dilated. He giggled mischievously, laughing and holding his hands tight against his chest.

“Booo,” he mock-growled. “Booooo.”

“What the fuck,” said Lauren. “Are you...are you
high
, Caleb? You were getting high while Heather was assaulted, and now you’re making
fun
of it?”

“I...what?” said Caleb.

His voice sounded drugged, that was for sure, and he looked thoroughly confused. He seemed to notice Heather on the ground for the first time.

Lauren huffed. “I said—”

“Heather was assaulted?” Caleb said. He began to approach her, his face twisting with terror.

“Forget it.” Lauren picked Heather up off the ground, the older woman still madly fingering her pussy. She nuzzled her head into Lauren and tried to kiss her. Lauren valiantly moved away. “You’re fired, Caleb. You may as well pack your things. You’re going home.”

She paused a moment, looking at the dazed, crazy eyes of her boss.

“We’re all going home,” said Lauren. “We can’t do anything with Heather like this.”

But then, it started to rain.

* * * * *

B
ryce spiraled for a sense of control in the craziness that this night had become. He, Lauren, Caleb, and Maryse were in Heather’s cabin, in the small sitting room, watching in strange horrified fascination as Heather continued to finger her pussy in a puddle of her own juices. Outside, the storm raged, torrents of rain pouring unceasingly, the sound interrupted only by cracking booms of thunder.

Here is what happened:

Nobody's phone worked. Lightning had started to strike all around the camp, and, they reasoned—one of the strikes had knocked out a cell tower. It would be morning at the least before they could get a signal again. Heather, in some odd cost-cutting measure, only actually paid the phone bill when there were minors present on the camp grounds (to appease parents and their sense of caution, Lauren said), and so none of the landlines were working.

Lauren refused to part from Heather, and she wanted to keep an eye on Caleb while the drugs left his system—Lauren was the only one of the counselors with any nursing training. They all would have been certified for basic first aid at the end of the week through Lauren and Heather’s classes...but oh well.

Bryce was worried about anyone staying alone with Caleb at the moment—all those tattoos, and he was clearly on some kind of heavy dosage of drugs. And Heather seemed to have some kind of psychotic break. So, he volunteered to help even the odds with Lauren and keep on eye on the two with her. And Maryse, characteristically, refused to part from Bryce’s side.

They were a team, now, like it or not. But Bryce knew teams. He was comfortable in teams.

So, the three of them opted to go to Heather’s cabin on the far side of the camp grounds. Heather lived there almost year round, so it was nicer than the rest of their cabins—it had its own full-sized kitchen, a bathroom with marble flooring, a separate bedroom and living room, the works.

Bryce was suspicious of Maryse’s involvement. He knew enough about Maryse to know she was shallow, petty, and manipulative as hell. In a lot of ways, that was sort of what turned him on about her—her attitude toward others, so snobbish and superior, was hard not to get excited by when she acted so sweet and submissive toward him. He knew even that was an act...but he let himself believe in it from time to time.

Still, he had no illusions about them staying together past the summer. He had made up his mind to enjoy the gorgeous blonde's presence as much as possible before their time was up. It was hard not to fall even more in love with her, spending so much time looking at her gorgeous face...but he tried.

Caleb was on the couch, a warm towel over his face. Maryse and Bryce sat together on a pale blue loveseat, holding hands, trying not to watch Heather as she continued to finger her soaking wet pussy. Lauren was examining her, trying to understand, trying to help.

“Hey,” said Lauren, lifting up Heather's shirt. “Look at this.”

Bryce approached, not quite knowing how Lauren could act so clinical when Heather was staring up at them with fevered, needy gazes, so desperate for a big cock to get stuffed into her body...

Strange, animalistic scratches were all over Heather’s back—and teeth marks, too. A bite. And there were...

“Are those...runes?” Bryce asked. “Those look like runes, like we saw in art class. Like hieroglyphics, that sort of thing.”

“Right? That's fucking weird,” said Lauren. “God, Heather...what happened to you?”

“He was
so good
,” Heather moaned, her eyes almost rolled back in their sockets. “He was
so fucking good
...”

The lovely older woman let out a little series of yelps and thrills as another orgasm rippled through her body, her legs trembling and snaking up against Bryce.

This was the time when she was most calm, they had found—when she had the most lucidity. Lauren leaned down and, using a towel to wipe it clean of juices first, took Heather’s hand.

“Heather,” she said, “It’s me, Lauren. Please...tell me what happened. Please.”

“Please him...mmm...him, him, yes.” Heather giggled, stretching her legs around Lauren’s hips, pulling her in lustily. “He found me...walking around outside. So...soo
big
. Seven feet tall. His cock like a...like a cannon. And so hairy...a beast. A real beast. Hairy. Fangs. Big yellow eyes...masculine eyes. Alpha eyes. Ohhhh yes. Such a fucking alpha beast of a Master. And then he took me...and oh yes. He took me...he
took
me...he
took
me...”

Again she slid her fingers back into her pussy. They had tried stopping her earlier, but it just made her seem like she was in pain—or worse, she thought one of them would help her in her desires. Bryce found it all horribly disturbing...and horribly arousing. He had to pace around just to stop his boner from getting worked up—even after Maryse's impromptu blowjob earlier.

“What the fuck was she describing?” asked Maryse. “That sounded like...like some kind of...”

“Some kind of werewolf?” Lauren offered.

“God,” said Maryse, rolling her eyes. “I'm glad
you
said it.”

“Fangs,” said Bryce. “Hair. Beast...I mean, it sort of seems to fit.”

“Let's not go nuts, here,” said Caleb, sitting up a bit. “I mean, werewolves...that's impossible. Maybe she was just drugged and raped.”

“You know all about drugs, don't you?” Bryce asked. “Maybe you did this?”

With no warning, Caleb stood up and rushed at Bryce, fists at-the-ready. Lauren, moving fast, immediately slipped between them.

“Calm down!” she said. “No one here is a monster. No one here would do this to Heather. Let's not tear each other apart just because we can.”

Taking a deep breath, Caleb sat back down.

“You're right,” he said. “I'm sorry. I don't like being accused of shit like that.”

“I'm sorry too.” Bryce shrugged. “But it's just all...suspicious. All of this. Something about it stinks, I just don't know what, yet. Or who.”

They all sat down, and for a few minutes the only sound was Heather's soft schlicking sounds as she gave herself yet another little orgasm. It was too quite, too inactive for Bryce's liking. He had to
do
something.

“We have to find him,” Bryce announced, standing up. “Find this guy, this thing, if that's what he is. It’s the only thing to do. Organize a search party.”

“Oh yesss...” Heather moaned on the floor. “Find him...find him!”

“What do you mean?” Maryse asked. “You’re not going out into that downpour, are you?”

“Do we have a choice? There’s some...some weirdo drug rapist out there fucking with the people in this camp! We can’t just let him
be
out there. We have to
try
something.”

“I think we should just stay here,” said Caleb. “Stay calm. It’s dangerous out there, the weather's way too unpredictable—and whatever attacked her, or whoever, I mean, they clearly like the dark more than we do.”