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The moon howls in my blood. It is the reason that I never have sex with anyone. The reason that I seldom masturbate and the reason that Mycroft says that I am afraid of sex. It is myself that I fear, my abnormality, my vulnerability.
There was nothing vulnerable about me when I hunted earlier with damp shingle crunching under my paws and the moonlight rippling across the Thames. In a city of millions I passed unnoticed, leaping from roof to roof until I reached my lair. I have other full moon boltholes, but John is away so I came home.
I’ve fed well and usually I would laze and sleep before the fire until daylight restored my almost human form, but tonight I am desperate for sex. Even as I prowled the city my lupine penis slipped stubbornly from its sheath. I ignored it, letting it throb unheeded under my furry belly. There are those of my kind who, when in wolf form, will mate with dog bitches, but I am not attracted to animals. I don’t even like animals. And there some werewolves who will force themselves upon their victims, but that is not my way either.
There is only one lover that I would take as a wolf or as a man. Only one. Only John.
He went out in a suit to meet his lady love and his jumper hangs on the back of his armchair. I sniff the fawn wool and I can smell John; tea, toast, soap and aftershave, sweat and skin. My penis lengthens even further and the knot of flesh at the base begins to grow. I twist away. This is the part of myself that I hate, the part that remains non-quite-human even when I resume my human form.
Freak. If only Donovan knew how right she is to call me that.
I can still smell him.
The long drawn out canine orgasm is too much of a risk. If I were to be discovered in that condition it would not only be embarrassing, it would be potentially disastrous. Once, in human form, I gave in to the urge and masturbated behind a locked door. Then the phone rang and for ten long minutes I had to listen to Lestrade while I was still ejaculating. I have never felt so vulnerable.
Roll up, roll up and see the freak show.
That sour thought does nothing to reduce my desire. I catch a glimpse of myself reflected in the polished fire surround; a sharp muzzle, rich black fur and the quick swish of a tail. And I’m worried about being caught mating, if anyone sees me like this I’m finished anyway.
So why the hell not?
I go back to John’s armchair and rub my muzzle all over the soft wool jumper. John’s essence surrounds me. I rear up on my hind legs and hook my front paws over the back of the chair, digging my razor sharp claws into the upholstery. I’m panting even before the tip of my penis bumps against John’s jumper. I start to mate with short, sharp thrusts of my hindquarters. It’s awkward, but good, so very good...
I don’t hear the door opening until it’s too late.
“What the – “John looks as if he might faint, but he doesn’t run and he doesn’t scream. “Jesus Christ!”
I freeze. We stare at one another, man and wolf.
“Sherlock?” John circles to one side, keeping well away from my teeth and claws. “I think I’ve finally cracked up, but that is you, isn’t it?”
How the devil does he know? And why the hell is he still here? How many people would stand their ground if they came home to find a werewolf shagging their favourite jumper?
I nod my shaggy head and belatedly drop down onto all fours.
“Fuck…” John looks at the armchair and giggles nervously. “You were, weren’t you?”
If I could speak I would deny it, but I’m a wolf and that damn thing between my back legs is an obvious giveaway.
“There’s a full moon tonight. I saw it as I came out of the station…this is nuts.” John points his finger at me. “You don’t exist, fairy tales and horror films, that’s all.”
Oh, I exist all right. Will he run if I move towards him? No, not my John. He’s uneasy though. I can smell it, all mingled in with curry spice and lager. I stop a couple of feet away from him and just stand there, letting John decide what to do next.
“Bloody hell, Katie said I was drunk, but pink elephants have got nothing on this.” John reaches out and touches my muzzle, very tentatively. I press my head into his hand before I can stop myself. “Christ, you feel real, bone, muscle, teeth and fur.” He giggles again. “Are you always this randy?”
If I wolf could blush then I would. I fix John with what I hope is a glare, but he laughs.
“It’s okay. Look, I’m going to put the kettle on. I could do with a cuppa, it’s bloody freezing out there. Then I’m going to nip upstairs and get out of this monkey suit.”
He isn’t gone long, but at least I manage to calm down a bit while he’s gone. Mainly by worrying about whether John’s taking this far too well and wondering if I’ll get a very different reaction once the shock wears off. I’m still contemplating disaster when he comes back in his pyjamas.
“I didn’t think that it was worth getting dressed again at this time of the night.” John goes into the kitchen and I trot after him. “Right tea and something…biscuits maybe, I’d have bought you a Bonio if I’d known.” He gestures at the cupboards. “Seriously, do you want anything?”
I shake my head. I’ve tasted flesh and fresh blood tonight. I feel a sudden, rare sense of shame. It isn’t something that I want John to find out about. Even in my dark full-moon form I care what he thinks of me. Well, he certainly doesn’t seem to be unduly frightened. He’s making tea for god’s sake, with a large black werewolf not six feet away from him. It’s hardly normal behaviour, but sometimes I think that John’s no more normal than I am.
John drops a teaspoon and bends down to retrieve it. His striped pyjamas stretch tightly across his arse and the tip of my cock peeps out hopefully. I hit the cold floor a split second before he turns around.
John looks at me lying there on my belly. “I’m going to wake up in a minute, aren’t I?”
I just look at him and he sighs. “Okay, fine.” John grabs a packet of biscuits off the worktop and picks up his mug. “Come on then, Rover.”
John goes back into the living room and I pad along behind. Instead of sitting in his usual armchair he throws himself down on the end of the sofa and pats the cushion.
“Come on, it’s all right, you’re allowed on the sofa.” He grins at his own joke.
I clamber up and flop down beside him with my head resting on my front paws. John picks up the remote control for the TV. “Do you mind if I put the telly on?” He chuckles. “Oh, it is nice when you can’t argue back.”
One of the things I hate about this transformation is my inability to speak. I desperately want to be able to talk to John, but I’m stuck with dog type barks, howls and whines. To my surprise John strokes my head, letting his fingers trail through the thick fur. It would be soothing if it wasn’t arousing. I shift on the cushions, moving my hind leg to hide my cock. John goes on stroking me, running his hand over my shoulders and flank. I breathe in, silently willing my cock to retract into its sheath, but of course it won’t.
“Do you want a biscuit?” John waves a chocolate digestive under my nose.
I don’t, but I take it, crunch it between my powerful jaws and swallow it in a single bite. John changes the channel on the TV for the last five minutes of Newsnight and the documentary on India which follows it. He drapes his arm over my neck and somehow I end up with my head resting on his thigh.
“Katie blew me out by the way, just in case you’re wondering why I came back tonight. I wanted her to do something for me…something kinky, but she er…. She said I must be gay, which I’m not…nothing personal, but I’m not into animals either…not that you are one, not really…I’ll just shut up and watch the telly, shall I?”
Good idea, John. Kinky? What kind of kinky? To say that I’m intrigued is an understatement, but of course I can’t ask all the questions chasing around in my head. I wriggle, trying to get comfortable and keep my cock hidden at the same time. It’s fully extended now and the more I think about John the less likely I am to get it to retract. He’s still petting me idly and that isn’t helping either. Not that I actually want him to stop running his fingers through my fur, but it could get highly embarrassing if he keeps doing it. I really ought to move my head out of his lap, but it’s just too much effort.
“Are you all right down there?” John asks me.
I bob my head on his knee and flick my tongue over his fingers.
John laughs softly. “Randy as hell though, you’ll be humping the sofa in a minute.”
I scramble away from him. My claws slide on the cushions as I sit up and I realise too late that I’ve exposed my animal arousal. I’m just about to jump down when he grabs my head in his hands. I growl, but John doesn’t flinch.
“Hush, it’s okay. It’s fine. Just calm down.” To my surprise he leans in and rests his face on my muzzle. “I’m not going to have a fit of screaming hysterics and neither are you. This is all crazy, but we might as well go with it.” John kisses the top of my head. “My aunty Amy used to breed Cocker Spaniels.” He looks down and then up into my face. “Like a dog?” he whispers.
I want to die and I try to turn my head away.
“You poor bastard,” John says softly. He wraps his arms around my neck and hugs me tightly. “It’s fine, everything’s fine. Just trust me, okay? “He sits back. “Now we’ve got to find a way to get you sorted out.” John pats my flank. “Just relax, while I try and think of something.”
It’ll be daylight in five hours, John.
“Necessity’s the mother of invention, you just need something to thrust into, right?”
The thought of thrusting makes my red cock jerk against my black fur.
“Sexy,” says John. He sounds a bit breathless and there’s a bulge rapidly forming in his pyjamas. John stands up quickly and grabs his jumper off the back of the armchair. “Right, let’s try this.”
What the hell is he planning? I soon find out. John slides the sleeve of his jumper over my cock, sheathing it in warm wool. Not quite meeting my eye he wraps his hand around me and squeezes very gently through the wool covering. My hunches jerk forward. I want to thrust so badly it hurts and I can’t help whining. Yet there’s something else that I want. John’s other hand is resting on his knee and I catch his cuff in my teeth, pulling on his arm.
“What do you want, Sherlock?”
I tug gently, so that his arm’s under my belly. Light dawns in John’s eyes and he touches the root of my cock. “This?” he asks. “I thought that it might be too sensitive to touch.” He curls his hand carefully around the wool covered knot of flesh.
My hips piston a few times before I get myself under control.
“It’s all right, just go for it,” says John.
I can smell and see his marvellous arousal. My nose touches his groin and the scent of him drives me wild. I nuzzle him through his pyjamas. John gasps and arches his spine. That breaks me and I start to thrust frantically, ramming into the soft sheath that he’s made for me. John’s hands move with me and I’m near, so very near.
He stops.
I snarl in frustration and then whine piteously.
“I must be stark staring bonkers, but do you want to do this properly?” John stares into my eyes. “Do you want to fuck me?”
My cock jerks wildly and I nod my head vigorously. It takes a few seconds for all the implications to hit my lust fuzzed brain. Does John really know what he’s letting himself in for? And what happens tomorrow when I’m back in almost human form? How the hell do we ever move on from this?
John carefully unwraps my cock. He frowns when he sees the wet patch on the wool. “Are you okay to wait while I find something to slick us both up with?”
I nod once more. God, I’m going to have neck ache tomorrow, but I’ll be fine just as long as he gets a move on. It’s just lupine pre-cum at the moment, but it won’t take much to trigger the main event.
“Okay, I’ll take your word for it.” He heads for the door. “You sit tight, I’m just going to see what we’ve got in the bathroom.”
It’s difficult to sit tight or even to sit still when I’m so excited. I need to move, to stretch my long, low spine and I jump down with my cock swaying under my belly. Then I’ve got no idea what to do with myself, so I pad into the kitchen and back again. Maybe it’s just because I’m so impatient, but John seems to be taking forever. I’m tempted to go after him, only he’s closed the door and I can’t turn the damn latch with paws. I go over to the window and nudge the curtain aside so that I can see down into Baker Street. It’s still busy, full of traffic and pedestrians. They pass below, oblivious to my presence, to my very existence. Mycroft says that’s my protection, but it’s easy for him to talk when he’s escaped the family curse completely.
“Massage oil.” John waves a brown glass bottle at me. He smells different and his cheeks are flushed. “I thought that I might as well get myself ready while I was there.”
That means that he was too embarrassed to stretch and prepare his anus while I watched. It’s a pity because I would very much like to have seen that, but given the state of arousal I’m in already it’s probably just as well that I didn’t. I’m also oddly touched by his sudden shyness, it’s very endearing.
I go over to him and rub my head over his groin, paying particular attention to the erection straining under the cotton. The oil has a faintly woody scent, but it’s overpowered by the smell of John’s arousal. He groans and digs his fingers into my fur. I pull on the drawstring holding his pyjamas trousers up with my teeth. John gets the message and quickly steps out of them.
He’s lovely naked, good enough to eat and I could do just that. My fangs could rip, tear and rend his flesh, but he trusts me enough to let me swipe my long pink tongue over his cock.
“Oh, fuck, stop or you’re going to finish me.” John kneels on the carpet and uncaps the bottle. “Come here you.”
I sit up in front of him and try not to shake myself apart while he gently rubs the oil into me. “You really are something else, just magnificent…Don’t worry I know what to expect, like I said my aunty bred dogs and I’ve…em…I’ve done this before. Not with a werewolf obviously…a couple of times with a cock and a lot more often with a dildo. That’s what the row with Katie was about, she thought that it was weird. Christ, she should see me now.” John cups my face in his hands. “But it’s still you in there and that’s why I’m doing this. Do you know that your eyes don’t change? They’re still human, still silver-blue, and still beautiful. The moment I saw those eyes I knew…” He blinks away tears. “Come on, gorgeous, let’s fuck.”
John positions himself on his hands and knees in front of the fire, offering himself to me without reservation. And I take him in the same way, without doubt or hesitation. I’m too aroused and too enamoured of him to so do anything, but mount him immediately. He bends for a moment under my weight and then he braces his spine. I wrap my forepaws around his chest. My fur brushes against smooth skin and I thrust forward, blindly seeking the target. I snarl in frustration when I miss it and John arches his back, presenting his arse for my pleasure.
“It’s okay, it’ll – Oh, god…”
I slide into him in a single thrust, right down to the knot at the base of my cock and I mustn’t let that enter him. It might hurt John, might stretch him too far and I can’t…can’t lock us together. My pelvis jerks, instinct takes over and I thrust vigorously.
“Oh, yeah. “John groans and drops his head onto his left arm. He reaches under himself and grabs his cock with his right hand.
It’s too much when I’m so very close to coming. I snarl, ramming into him. I feel his body yield on a violent downward thrust and my knot lodges in his anus, but it’s not inside him. It’s not too late to pull back. My hips jerk frantically and a second later it’s in and we’re locked together. Panic grips me for a few seconds and then an intense orgasm sweeps everything else away.
Underneath me John’s trashing about, swearing and moaning as he comes. He’s shaking. His arms and legs give way and we collapse onto the carpet.
I’m still wedged inside him, still erect and still ejaculating. Does he realise that we’re knotted together? Literally stuck with one another until I finally stop coming and my knot shrinks enough for me to be able to slip out of him. John’s eyes are closed and he’s breathing through his open mouth. He doesn’t look as if he’s aware of very much at the moment. I lower my head and lick his face.
John smile and then he shifts slightly. “Can we just roll onto our sides while you finish off? I’m getting a bit flattened here.”
I think I can just about manage that manoeuvre. John turns with me and after a bit of awkward wriggling we settle on our sides with me pressed to his back. I hook my leg over his thigh and John reaches back to stroke my hip. “Are you all right in there?”
I nod my head on his shoulder.
John sighed. “It’ll be nice when you can talk to me again” He snuggles down into the curve of my body. “Still this is cosy, like being wrapped up in a big furry blanket.” He laughs quietly. “Mind you I’m going to have one hell of a sore bum tomorrow. We’re not going to be able to do this too often.”
That makes me feel guilty and I nuzzle his shoulder in apology.
“Don’t worry about it. You can’t help the way you’re made. I’ll just wank you off next time.” John turns his head so that he can kiss my muzzle. “It feels nice though, you twitching about and squirting inside me. You’ll have to tell me later how it feels for you.”
Not as it usually does, not frightening and humiliating. I’m sheathed in John and he actually likes it. Somehow that makes it okay for me to just enjoy the sensations. To feel the pulse at the base of my cock and to actually be able to take pleasure in it for once. It isn’t exactly like an orgasm, but it feels damn good. I wriggle my hips and lick his cheek.
John grins. “That good, hum?” He yawns and his eyes close. “Don’t take it personally if I doze for a bit.”
How can he even think about sleeping when we’re in this position? What if anyone walked in on us? Doesn’t he realise how vulnerable we are, how defenceless? Apparently not because he’s drifting off to sleep. I rest my head on his shoulder, listening to the sounds of the night. I still have a bone-crushing jaw and strong, sharp claws. Death then, death for anyone who tries to harm him. He is mine, my love, my John, my mate and I will watch over him until dawn.