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I sucked a werewolf’s dick.

    Fury Werewolves erotica be like
    I woke to the sound of wind. As I looked around my room I rubbed the crust out of my eyes. Everything was in place except the window, which hung wide open. The curtains furled and swayed in the night breeze, and the shutters bounced lightly against the outside wall. I didn’t remember leaving it open, but that wasn’t my main focus.
    
    Beyond the window was the largest full moon I’d ever seen.
    
    Stories had been spreading recently of creatures that prowl under a full moon. Werewolves, if you can believe it. Grown men and women, in this day and age, spreading childish rumors about monsters of all things. But even as I told myself those things, something prickled at the base of my neck. Some instinctual worry. A worry turned dread as a fur covered claw slammed onto my windowsill.
    
    I watched in terror as the biggest beast I’d ever seen pulled itself silently into the window. It was four times the size of a man, easily, and covered head to toe in thick, black fur. Its snout panned back and forth across the room as it took in deep sniffs. And then it’s huge yellow eyes locked onto mine. It lowered itself into the room with a feline grace, and moved slowly across the floor towards my bed.
    
    I was frozen in fear. Neither fight nor flight found purchase in my mind. The beast rose at the foot of my bed, having to hunch over at full height to keep its head from hitting the ceiling. It leaned forward, and started crawling across the bed. Before I could think it was nose to nose with me. I closed my eyes and awaited a painful death.
    
    But nothing happened.
    
    I peeked up to see it standing above me, eyes still locked onto mine. Its gaze dipped, then quickly re-met mine. I followed it, only to find the single largest dick I could even imagine resting across my chest. The beast’s lip curled, and a soft, menacing growl broke the silence. It didn’t sound like a threat, so much as a choice. I looked down at its massive beef whistle, and then back into it’s eyes. I know it could smell my fear, but could also tell that I chose life.
    
    It grabbed my shoulders and slammed me back against the headboard. It’s huge frame settled over me as its fur scourged ankle-smacker swelled and stiffened. I was petrified, unable to so much as shiver at the sight of it all. A single taloned finger pushed its way into my mouth and pried it open. Before I knew it, the beast’s throbbing lap rocket was careening into my open gob.
    
    It was like trying to sword swallow a wool tube-sock with a leg in it.
    
    It went much deeper, much faster than I was expecting. Each thrust collapsed the back of my throat, making breathing through my nose impossible. Its veinous maximus slammed into the back of my skull over and over, with increasing speed and force. With each thrust, smaller, dagger-sharp hairs from the base of its porridge gun stabbed holes all around my mouth.
    
    Its massive claws grabbed my hands as it continued its work. My fingers were guided up it’s belly, across it’s matted, wiry fur. My fingertips passed over something, and its guidance paused. A small bump. A nipple? I gave it a curious squeeze, which sent shivers through the beast’s entire body. It moved my other hand to another nipple. Then up to another. Then up to another. Then back down. Then up. I felt like an old timey phone operator trying to eat a possum flavored party sub while I worked.
    
    Something shifted in the beast’s demeanor suddenly. It hunched over, slamming its almost intolerably hot love fist into my head at a both literally and figuratively blinding pace. Its huge claws gabbed my head, holding me in place.
    
    A few things happened all at once.
    
    Lightning struck just outside, instantly filling the room with light and the deafening crash of thunder. Its claws peeled the skin off of the back of my scalp. Gallons, actual gallons of putrid wolf seed filled my mouth, throat and nose. It was boiling hot, gritty, and as thick as hot tar. It tasted like a nightmarish blend of old beach sand and rotting ground pork. It spilled out of my mouth and nose and forced its way down my throat into my stomach and lungs. It was an unstoppable fire-hose like torrent of seemingly never ending wolf putty. Its back arched, it’s head flew back, and silhouetted by the full moon it unleashed an ear splitting howl.
    AWROOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!
    
    I was sure I was about to die. I couldn’t breath, and every part of my face, mouth, and insides were blistering up from its boiling hot leavings. I accepted death, and passed out.
    
    I woke up in the hospital. The official story was something about a chemical spill, but the nurses looked down on me with a knowing pity. I was hooked up to all sorts of machines. I was told recovery would be a long, hard road. I was told most of the damage was irreversible. I was told I would need life-long medication to manage the pain.
    
    I was told I was lucky to be alive.
    
    The words stuck in my head. Lucky? I had gone through hell. My body had been pushed and torn to its absolute limit. I had been used by a supernatural beast, and discarded like trash. Lucky doesn’t even begin to describe how I felt.
    
    I may never lock my window again.