Fuck to Hunt, Hunt to Fuck

‘Finally’, I thought, seeing a muscular black man exit the bar and start down the street. My cock stirred at the sight of him, and I was eager to follow. You see, I met this man before . . . a month ago … before things got weird. I find him so sexy . . . even now . . . even after everything that has happened. I watched him shift his shoulders within his tight white sweater, which looked as if it strained to contain his muscular shoulders and back, perfectly sculpted ass shifting back and forth in his snug trousers as he walked, big black leather boots that came up almost to his knees. I was hard just watching him walk.

But I hadn’t waited most of the night in this skeezy neighborhood for sex. Although it was clear my dick didn’t know that. I felt a patch of pre-cum moist in my jockstrap. I needed answers. Real ones. Honest ones. I had to know what was happening to me. What he’d done to me.

“Unit four-niner, you there?” the radio squawked, breaking my thirst. On the street, he stopped. Was he going to look back? Had he heard my radio? Would he see me? Recognize me?

I fumbled for my handheld as I ducked down behind my steering wheel. “Uh, copy that, just down near Greenwood, checking on a lead.” Not a total lie. Just not an official lead. Or an official case.

“It’s your first day back, Carter, don’t overdo it.” My sergeant responded. Nice to know he cared. Wish he’d do a little more than that. Fuck, what was with me?! All day I’d been horny as hell. Not hard, but just gagging to fuck, be fucked. Suck, and be sucked. Didn’t matter if it was the Sarge, Dwolski, Khan, or the perp they bought in for shoplifting. But then he’d had great arms.

‘Stop it!’ I thought in annoyance. “Copy that. Catch you in a bit.”

By now the sexy hulk of a man was way down the block. Do I risk taking the cruiser after him? How would that look? A white cop creeping up on a large guy walking the street. Not good. And this wasn’t political. No, it was personal.

Getting out of the car, I remembered the night I met him. I followed him then too. Few months had passed since my last break-up, I was feeling good about myself, but hadn’t found anyone who interested me. So many of them looked like Matt, my ex. Your typical white, muscular, pretty boy, which dominates gay culture. I needed something different, something real. So I headed to Greenwood. I’d heard there was a bathhouse there that was more diverse than any of the places downtown. My best sexual experience had been with a black guy back at the academy. I thought this was exactly what I needed to get Matt out of my system.

I’m not going to lie, the place was more extreme than I expected. There was the standard bathhouse set up of guys in towels, a sauna, hot tub, showers . . . but this place also included private booths, slings, and bondage rooms. There was a decent range of guys from hot, like the hunk I’m following, down to average. The majority of guys who went to that bathhouse weren’t white . . . which honestly is a more accurate depiction of the world in my opinion! I was a kid in a candy store.

And then I saw him. Sitting alone in the hot tub, while one guy went down on me and I kissed another. Yes, I was having my fun at that moment . . . but the entire time he watched me intently. His eyes bore into me with such keen interest . . . his stare stirred my very soul. The fact that this sexy man was watching me only made everything hotter and I blew my load making one of the guys gag. Figuring I was done, I hit the showers only to have him ease up behind me, his hard cock pressing into my back.

“You done?” he growled.

I turned in surprise before realizing it was him. I sized him up. He was hotter closer up than across the room. Tattoos swirled down his arm in sleeves. I felt my cock twitch. This man was the real deal. Hulking, hot, and hung. He stood there soaked, with a jump rope around his neck and his black swim trunks . . . was he working out before sitting in that hot tub? He loomed over me, forcing me back against the wall. Water sluiced down his chest and I saw words inked into his left pec.

A man who's pure of heart

and says his prayers by night

May still become a wolf

when the autumn moon is bright

He wiped the water from his face and looked at me, hard, waiting for an answer.

“Maybe?” Being coy wasn’t going to work with this guy. He could’ve had anyone and right now he was standing over me, his huge cock actually pointing at me through his green swimming trunks. It’d hurt but I wanted him inside me. “Maybe not. What’d you have in mind?”

“Gonna bounce. Get out of here.”

Oh.

“Come with.” Not a question, not a suggestion, but a command. My cock twitched.

“Uh.” I didn’t know what to say. Turns out I didn’t need to, he half smiled, his face lighting up, then he wrapped a large hand around my cock and pulled me out of the showers, claiming me. I felt my cock harden in his grip. Half-glancing back, I saw his mouth twist in approval. Soon enough he let go, threw a towel at me and proceeded to towel himself off. There was more light here and I could admire his body even more. I was in decent shape, two hours a day the gym and good genetics helped with that, but his body was incredible. Was he a bodybuilder? Was he god? He had bulges where I didn’t know muscles existed.

And that’s about the last thing I remember.

There are flashes. His naked body over me, pinning me down, thrusting inside me, his mouth on mine, and the single greatest orgasm of my twenty-nine years. Then pain. And terror. I woke up on the street, bleeding, shoulder torn open from an animal attack.

I continued to follow him down the street, I touched my shoulder where it was a mess of scars. This was him not some random animal. He’d done this to me and I had a feeling it was only the beginning.

The past month had been a blur of painkillers, fever dreams, physiotherapy, and restless sleep. Today had been the worst though. And not just the constant horniness. No, my mood had been aggressive as fuck with me snapping at guys from the station constantly. I’d have hit Stothers if he’d opened his mouth one more time and he was usually a good guy. Only when I ate had I calmed down. Three foot-longs and two cheeseburgers. And I’d snuck those since lunch with Dwolski had barely hit the spot.

I was surprised I could eat at all given how much my stomach hurt and head throbbed. Worst of all was my skin. It burned from the inside. The Sarge accused me of having fleas I was scratching so much. My reaction? I almost hit him. That’s how fucked my head was.

Oh no, my head’s so fucked I’m stalking a guy down a street in my full cop uniform. Not professional. And not exactly low profile.

Following him across a street, around a few corners, I wasn’t sure where I was. Didn’t matter to me. I had to get to him. When he crossed an empty lot heading for an old warehouse, I couldn’t hide in the shadows of the buildings any longer. My hands were sweaty inside my leather gloves as I realized he and I were the only ones in the large empty lot. If he turned and saw me, a cop following him. I don’t know if the fact that I was armed would protect me. This guy was fearless.

Above us the full moon was the only witness to my obsessive pursuit. I stepped into the lot, expecting him to turn around . . . but he didn’t. He just continued into the warehouse. I was surprised to see he left the door open. For me. An invitation.

Do I draw my weapon? Deciding against it, I unclipped my taser. I don’t need that kind of paperwork . . . this was technically an unauthorized investigation.

Inside I found a stairwell with light coming through an open door at the top.

I hesitated. This was wrong. If he’d done to me what I feared he had, I was already dead.

“Are you coming?” his deep voice boomed down over me. My cock thickened, my skin itched all over, and my mouth suddenly felt very full. But I had no choice.

I found him sitting in a chair waiting for me, his pants were already off. This was his loft. Flashes of it came back to me. He’d pinned me against the bare brick, my skin scratched from it. I’d sat in that chair when he sucked me off, his mouth hot on my member. It stirred again, wanting his full lips on it once more.

“I hoped you’d find me.”

“Really?” I barked

He laughed. “Actually I knew you would. That’s why I chose you.”

“Chose me? You – what did you do to me?!” I demanded.

He stood up, the shirt as snug at the front as it was from the back. I saw the bulge in his tight pants, which made me want to drop to my knees and take his full length.

“I primed you.” He was a few feet away, statuesque and ferocious in his size. “And now you’re ready.”

“Ready? Ready for what?”

“To become,” he growled, his lips twisting into a sneer. I saw his teeth white behind his lips, canines longer than I remembered. With animalistic rage, he ripped apart his tight white shirt, his torso a rippling mass of muscles and tattoos.

“I’m not here to fuck,” I barked. Once again my cock hadn’t got that message as it strained in my standard issue police pants. He didn’t say anything, instead he circled me, his body close enough to touch, heat pulsing from him.

Without a word or a prompt, he returned to the chair and slowly unlaced his black leather boots. Never had a guy taking off boots been hotter. The old leather wrinkled beneath his strong hands as he pulled them off. Then came his pants.

“Perhaps you should get undressed.”

“I said I’m not here to fu-” Pain tore through me, doubling me over.

“We’ll see,” he replied, unaware of his gorgeous nakedness. “Breathe through the pain, it’ll make it easier. Here, let me.” He reached for my shirt buttons, but I shoved him, my gloved hand strong against his chest. He held my wrist and told me again to breathe.

More pain. This time down my arm. The one touching his chest. Nerves screamed as it felt like fire burned at the tips. Then the leather started to stretch into points. I cried out in agony as though the leather was my skin. But it was. Claws had pierced through the tips of my fingers, cut through the skin and gloves and threatened to dig into his chest.

“Ride the pain,” he said, still holding my wrist as the glove seams burst.

“R-ride this,” I strained, pain now all over. Digging my new claws into his chest, I tore at his flesh, wrenching my wrist free. With it came a strip of skin but instead of blood and bone beneath it was…fur. Black fur.

I fell back and looked at that patch of ebony skin. There were words on it.

May still become a wolf

when the autumn moon is bright

“Oh shit!” I dropped to my knees, skin on fire, muscles in agony. I looked at my other hand, the glove was gone and my own skin hung off a furry, clawed hand like a torn mitt. I convulsed on the floor, my body growing and straining against my uniform. Looking at up at him, I cried out, “what’s ha-happening?” But my mouth was full of teeth bigger than I remembered. My canines had extended. They were long, sharp, and powerful.

“I made you mine,” he growled, his own teeth longer now, and his eyes golden. Screaming, I pulled open my shirt as my chest expanded, tearing the side seams. I was suffocating in my skin, my body bigger and stronger than this sheath would allow. Digging claws into my own chest, I ripped the skin apart. When cold air hit the exposed fur I felt a moment of peace. I needed to feel that again. Struggling to my feel, I fiddled with my belt, desperate to be rid of it. When it hit the ground with a loud thud, I was already pulling my pants off.

My cock was bigger than it had ever been, painfully engorged. I tried to catch my breath unsure if I could tear at the skin of my own cock when I saw fur growing and moving beneath my skin. Then I didn’t have a choice. The top of my cock exploded, splitting from the hole, the skin peeling back. Relief. I pulled at the skin, tearing more of myself away, the torture easing as more of my new, larger, hairier body was exposed to the air.

I reached over my scarred shoulder and clawed at my back. The skin tore easily, stretched as it was, over my swollen muscles. There was a loud, satisfying snap as it came away. Then I scratched at my arms, the skin now stretched thin.

“My pup,” he growled, stepping closer.

“My wolf!” I barked, shoving him back. I almost fell as I still had my boots on, pants around my ankles and skin half-off. He caught me and pulled me close.

“As you are mine.” Rage took over. I tore my pants away, freeing my stretched wrinkled boots from the fabric and I pounced on him, shoving him to floor with a growl. I hunched my shoulders and curled my toes within my tight leather boots as I heard a wet cracking noise. Without hesitation, I lowered my smooth ass down over him, letting his thick cock slide into me. A howl tore from me as I rode him, surging back and forth, up and down. My abs flexed and my skin became warm and wet. My feet grew . . . sharp points began to protrude from my boots as they stretched and wrinkled. The confining leather spread out wide with a rubbery ripping noise before they burst apart, revealing large paws! The relief overshadowed the pain.

I looked down, and I saw his handsome features tight and slightly wrinkled now, his muscles were bulging, and the furry part of his chest seemed to push through the broken brown skin . . . expanding the tear I made with my claws.

“Skin me.” He muttered as his neck wrinkled and his arms flexed. He didn’t need to ask twice. I pulled at his flesh as I pistoned myself on his cock. Soon patches of ebony skin were strewn across the floor.

He was magnificent. Powerful, feral, bestial. He pushed up, flipping me over and drove his cock violently into my hole. The sensation was incredible. I couldn’t breathe, I couldn’t think, I was utterly his.

“Unmask me,” he grunted, easing up his pace to tease my welcoming ass.

All that was left of the black hulk was his head, the skin taught against the wolf features beneath. I wanted to see him. See the real him.

Reaching up, I dug claws into his ear and pulled at the skin. His thrusts grew harder as I gripped his face. It stretched and wrinkled before I was able to finally pull the smooth brown flesh away in my hand. He howled and I felt a hot explosion inside me as he came. My own pressure building against him. I looked at his wolfen features, seeing the creature he was unleashed.

“Now unmask me,” I gasped, his cock moving slower in my ass, my pressure still building.

“No, pup, you have to do it.”

Could I rip my own face off? I had to. No, I…wanted to. I raised my furry clawed hands to my face. I gripped my hair and pulled. Feeling the skin of my face slide off the fur underneath stoked the pressure in my loins. Not my face, not my real face. Not anymore. The false flesh fell away, revealing my true form . . . the tight confining skin stretched and slack in my hands as I pulled. Then the mask was gone, cool air hit my features, and hot cum sprayed across my furry chest. He withdrew and as I lay there, he removed the remnants left over from my human skin and police uniform.

“But…”

“Don’t worry, when the moon sets and the sun is about to rise, your skin will grow back,” he explained tenderly, now a large wolf man crouching over me. “But until then,” he growled. “We hunt.

“And fuck,” I managed, all of my appetites building.

“Fuck to hunt, and hunt to fuck.”