“We should get you to the brewery sooner than later, maybe you can call someone to pick you up from there. Someone not related to me, hopefully.” He grimaces, making a vague gesture to the rest of himself, “You don’t want to see me this close to the full moon. This is bad enough already.”
My heart pinches at that. I don’t want to leave this moment with him feeling like this is still something to hide from me.
In a moment this vulnerable, I want him to feel cherished and worthy of love, but I don’t have it in me to just tell him I love him all of a sudden. Maybe I never stopped, but I can’t just bare my heart like that. I’d been burned by loving him before.
But I could show him, and maybe that would be enough.
An idea strikes me as my hand slides down his stomach, stopping at the top of his jeans.
The breath stutters in his throat, and I can hear his teeth click together. He pulls out his phone to check the time. I glimpse the 9:03 on his screen before he puts it away.
“I have...maybe another hour before I really need to go. I can usually hold it off that long, at least.”
“So...what you’re saying is we have at least fifty-five minutes to get over there, and maybe five minutes to spare?”
He chews the inside of his cheek, a hand covering his mouth as he considers me. “Maybe more like three.”
With one hand, I unbuckle his belt, pop the button, tug down the zipper of his jeans. He glances over his shoulder, but doesn’t stop me from getting his dick out in what might technically count as public. I suppose someone could take ten minutes to walk over the hill from the brewery and see us, or drive past us at seventy-five miles per hour.
I finally slide an open palm down the hard length of his cock, finding the opening in his boxers to pull it out, my hand wrapping around the base. I watch Shawn’s eyes flutter closed and his mouth bite down on the pleasure of that first touch.
My breath catches a little as I let myself glance at his cock and realize it’s not quite how I remember it. It’s thicker, flushed a deeper, needier red, his cockhead taking on a slightly pointed tip, more distinct veining down the shaft. I hadn’t fully considered how complete the transformation under the moon was.
Realizing his cock is even a little wolf-y right now, makes my clit pulse alive. Maybe all those weird dreams should have prepared me a bit better for how intensely this would turn me on.
I give him a light, experimental stroke, and tilt my head and look up into his eyes.
His nostrils actually flare.
In my hand, I feel his cock twitch, and I can’t help but smile. I move back a step, slipping to my knees.
Bringing the tapered tip of his cock to my lips, feeling its heat against them, I lick in small teasing flicks, listening to every reaction in his breath. Taking the head into my mouth a little bitmore each time, I stroke what doesn’t comfortably fit, my hands wrapped around the base.
“Go easy on me,” he says, the sort of self-deprecating joke I’m used to from him, and there’s something I can’t quite make out. There’s a dark, low, smoldering heat in his voice I’m not familiar with.
He must know I would take that as a challenge, so I dip down to take the head of his cock in my mouth for a good, hard suck. He makes a strangled noise, his hand tightening on my shoulder.
I lave my tongue over the head and up and down the length of him, but I don’t think I could even attempt to deepthroat him for the life of me. Nope, a girl has gotta have boundaries.
I gather up all the saliva in my mouth and draw one last, wet, messy stripe up the underside of his dick. Then I pull back, kneeling on the ground. I tug my shirt up to my collarbone and pull my heavy breasts out of my worn sports bra.
A moment of self-consciousness passes over me. The ways my body is different now, the weight I’ve put on, the stretch marks, the way my breasts don’t have the buoyant bounciness of a twenty-year-old, and are just probably a few too many inches lower than he remembers.
My heart stammers for a second, and I wonder if I should reconsider this, glancing up at him.
Stunned is a very good look on Shawn.
“You haven’t changed a bit,” he says with no shortage of awe, his hands cupping my breasts, his thumbs finding and toying with my peaked nipples, his attention rapt over them.
“Well, maybe just a bit.” I try not to smile.
I lean forward, my hands skimming over my breasts, sitting up a little straighter to bring them up to the same height as his hips.
I cup my hands on either side, pressing them together, enveloping his cock entirely. The slick path of spit on his cock connects to my sternum, making it a little bit easier to get some movement started.
His head tips back as he sucks in a sharp breath, enjoying the stroking up and down his shaft. I watch the way his chest rises and falls in time with my grip coming up over the tip, squeezing the softer head.
We start with a few slow, experimental thrusts, adding more saliva to his cock to make the friction between my breasts a little easier.
