Lover's Moon

LOVER'S MOON

         I cursed my luck as I trudged along the dusty, deeply-rutted road. I had pulled off the Interstate to find a place to piss and, somehow, had gotten turned around on the tiny country roads.

         Lost.

         Then, while trying to find the highway again, my five-year-old Chevrolet blew two tires, thanks to the crater-sized chuckholes in the road. Two flats, one spare. Figures.

         I hadn't seen another vehicle since I got off the main highway, so I took Shank's Mare in the direction I hoped would lead me back to civilization.

         The red sun was beginning to ease below the tops of the tall pine trees that lined both sides of the road. It would be dark in less than an hour. At least the weather was pleasant, I mused. Eighty degrees, clear skies and I was dressed appropriately in shorts, muscle shirt and running shoes. I felt certain that once I found the Interstate I could get some help and shortly thereafter be on my way back to Texas.

         The drive to the casinos in Louisiana was turning out to be more trouble than it was worth--even though I had won a couple of hundred dollars, and met a cute guy who gave me his telephone number and a quick blowjob when I stopped gambling to have lunch. My cock hardened and the tip popped out the leg of my shorts as I thought about the boy. I rubbed my boner, and day-dreamed while I walked.

         A sound from the dense woods to my left brought me back to reality. A smothered cough? I walked faster, kicking up little puffs of red dust with each step. A furtive glance back over my shoulder seemed to prove I was alone.

         Again, a sound from my left.

         My heart jumped in my chest and I heard the blood pounding at my temples. I hurried my pace. A twig snapped like a pistol shot--this time ahead of me--but still to the left, not far from the edge of the road. "Okay, enough...who's there?" I called out to the shadowy woods.

         No answer.

         I moved cautiously to the opposite side of the narrow road, straining to see through the heavy growth across the way. Movement? Maybe. Hard to tell. Wait--yes. Something. Something dark shifting in the twilight shadows. "Come on out. I know you're in there," I challenged, standing my ground. I rolled my shoulders, loosening my muscles. I'm well-built--made hard by a combination of youth and hours spent in the gym--and felt I could take care of myself in a fair fight.

         Mistake.

         It came from the brush, fast and low. I braced for impact, doubting the intelligence now of my challenge. Then, from behind, strong arms pinned my arms to my sides, crushing me in a powerful bear hug; lifting me off my feet. I yelped in surprise.

         The figure in front of me stopped short and raised a gnarled tree limb. Just before the club whistled toward my head, creating a laser light show in my brain, I saw that my attacker was a beautiful, naked young man.

         Then darkness.

         I awoke in pain. My wrists and ankles were on fire and my head seemed to swell and pulse with every breath I took. Night had fallen. A full moon overhead dominated the clear black heavens, casting off shimmering rays of illumination. It provided enough light so I could see I was in a small clearing, maybe thirty feet square, surrounded by trees and heavy brush.

         My wrists and ankles were bound and I was suspended, face up, three feet off the forest floor--like a human hammock. The strips which bound me were tied to wiry saplings which bent only slightly beneath my weight. I knew with certainty I was someone's captive.

         A hand suddenly wrapped itself in my thick, blonde hair and whipped my head roughly to the right. Black, feral eyes stared down at me hungrily. A woman! She looked to be about fifty. Her filthy hair was matted in clumps on her head and hung greasily past her broad, strong shoulders. Her square-jawed face was grimed with dirt, as was the rest of her tall, heavy, naked body. Pendulous breasts hung halfway to her navel. Her thick legs were unshaven, and the stink of her made me gag.

         She bent close to me, her breath fetid, like putrefying meat. Green, rotted teeth, formed the semblance of a beastly smile. "Good man," she grunted, stroking my face with a callused hand. She lowered her thick lips toward mine!

         I turned away violently. "No! Leave me alone!" I shouted, twisting helplessly in my bonds.

         "Hoo, hoo, hoo," she seemed to laugh. She clamped her hand on my leg and rubbed me from muscled thigh to knee and back again. I fought, but the ropes were too tight and the spread-eagle position I was trapped in made my attempts at self-defense futile. The woman grabbed my crotch. I responded against my will, disgusted that my body would betray me. "Got good dick!" the sow said, grinning. She tugged at my shorts until they were down to my knees. I was nakedly at the woman's mercy. The crone looked me over appraisingly.

         A movement in the shadows beyond the woman caught my attention. It was the boy I had seen earlier. He watched the old woman's actions with interest. I felt myself flush with embarrassment as he stared, his dark eyes locked on my mostly limp cock. He was as naked as the old woman, but had an intelligent face, sculptured pecs, a tiny waist tapering to narrow hips and well-shaped, athletic-looking legs. He was wantonly erotic--dark-eyed, with long, raven black hair flowing to the middle of his back, and appeared to be clean.

         He approached me and timidly pressed his warm palm against my rippling stomach. Blood raced to fill my nine inches of meat.

         The old woman struck swiftly. Swinging from the ground, she backhanded the boy hard on the shoulder, knocking him away from me. "No! He's mine! Go away, Henry!" the woman croaked at the boy who, eyes flashing, dashed into the woods.

         Who the hell are these people? I wondered. And what are they going to do with me? For the first time in my life I knew true fear.

         The woman turned her attention back to me. She lifted one leg over my suspended body, straddled my hips, then maneuvered herself until she had my erect root poking at the entrance to her gaping cunt. I ground my teeth together to keep from screaming and, repulsed to my very core, endured her assault.

         She used me like an unwilling, human trampoline, grunting and straining. At last, with a satisfied groan, she stopped moving and got off of me. She scratched obscenely, then squatted and pissed in the grass. My stomach clenched painfully and I whipped my head to the side and vomited explosively, spewing the remains of barbecued ribs, nachos and three beers a distance of three feet.

         As I spat and coughed to clear my mouth, the woman picked up a large knife from the grass and laid the flat of the silver blade against my lower abdomen. She drew the blade up, toward my navel, as if buttering a slice of bread.

         Then down, toward my limp pecker.

         Every muscle in my body tensed, contracted, then froze, certain that my captor was going to emasculate me. Then the cold blade was lifted away from my skin. The woman turned and walked away, into the trees. I slumped in my bonds, filled with despair--used and humiliated. Tears rolled from my eyes as an eerie cry split the silence of the night.

         A coyote, or wolf, somewhere nearby, was calling to the full moon overhead. It howled three times and quit. The sound made my balls draw up tight against me.

         With only the soft music of crickets to serenade me, I drifted into a troubled sleep. Minutes--or hours--later, I was shocked awake as cold liquid splashed my face. Sputtering, I opened my eyes. The attractive young man stood beside me holding a dented hubcap filled with water. He dipped his cupped hand into the water and brought it to my lips. I drank greedily. He refilled his soft hand several times, until I turned my head away, my thirst slaked.

         The boy was lovely; the moon seemed to cast a halo around his head. He looked like a naked angel, I thought. Why in God's name was this beauty out in the middle of fucking nowhere with a knife-wielding maniac? My blue eyes fastened on the boy's doe-eyed brown ones. "My name's Chad. Chad Morgan. What's yours?"

         No reply.

         "Will you help me? Please. Let me down from here?" I whispered conspiratorially, uncertain of the old woman's whereabouts.

         The boy cocked his head to the side, looking like the dog in the old RCA commercials. He's deaf, I slowly realized, as he admired my body. He ran his fingertips over my face, down my chest, across my flat stomach--and beyond. When he grasped my cock it swelled to gigantic proportions, filling the boy's hand, hot and rigid.

         The boy smiled in surprise, obviously delighted at his accomplishment. Not much of an accomplishment, actually, I thought, instantly aroused by the exotic-looking boy whose skin was as brown as the bark on the trees around us. His teeth were small, white and even, the canines strangely, sexily prominent. His full, slightly pouting lips, were made for kissing. And that body...

         He bent and kissed me. I kissed back--snaking my tongue between his moist lips.

         Another mistake.

         He jerked away suddenly, leaving a gash in my lower lip as his teeth reflexively snapped together, just missing my tongue. "Damn!" I hissed, as warm, salty blood trickled down my chin.

         The boy looked at me curiously, concern evident in his expression. He bent again and covered my mouth with his own. He gently licked my wounded lip before slipping his tongue between my lips, searching the cavern of my mouth.

         His breathing became hot, panting, and I tried to reach for him. Couldn't. My hands and feet were still firmly tied to the trees. I cursed. The boy seemed to comprehend that he had nothing to fear from me. He tugged harder on my erect man-meat, squeezing the head until it was dark purple.

         I was in hell--and heaven. Then the boy stepped over my leg and stood between my out-stretched, spread-eagled thighs. He lifted my balls and inspected my butt cleft for a moment before spreading my globes wide and examining my asshole. For the first time I saw the boy's dick, long and narrow, standing up from his groin, nearly slapping his brown stomach. He took his pole in one hand and prodded my asshole with the tip. He moved up closer, humping at me, until the head of his cock slipped through my ass-ring and up into my rectum. Ummm.

         He gripped my hips and pulled me to him, then let me swing back on my ropes--back and forth--over and over--until I felt his abnormally hot cum spray my insides in a slick coat of boy-juice. He climbed off of me and stood looking down at me for a moment, as if trying to make a decision. Finally, to my relief, he untied my feet then my hands. As I rubbed feeling back into my wrists the boy stood before me.

         Free. But escape was less important now that I could defend myself against the old woman. Besides, this lovely creature standing over me, his buttocks two phenomenal moonlit half-globes, was looking at me longingly. I took his hand and pulled him down beside me. I explored the boy's willowy young body, feeling free to do as I wished with him.

         When I tried to poke my index finger up his tight ass he cried out. A virgin!Lord, thank you! Tears rolled down the boy's prominent cheekbones. I eased off trying to finger-fuck the kid, instead electing to push his head down over my lap, filling his mouth with my bursting cock and most of my balls. He got the idea and started to lick and suck me. His tongue was most talented. I fucked his sweet face, somehow feeling that I was getting revenge for what the old bitch had done to me.

         Almost without warning my cum gushed from my nuts, up through my pulsing tube, and exploded into the boy's mouth, then down his gulping, gasping throat, almost choking him.

         I didn't care.

         Before my jizz stopped pumping, I rolled the boy over in the grass and shoved my bone up his impossibly tight assmeat, stretching his un-fucked, un-plucked, puckered flower to the limits. When I rammed all of my fuckmeat up his ass he tensed with either pain or pleasure but pushed his sweet globes up to meet my pounding hammer.

         I plunged away at the boy, smelling his man-scent until, once again, I squirted cum into one of his orifices, filling it, slathering his virgin guts in slippery cum until it eddied and roiled out his bunghole and oozed in white rivers over the boy's rounded buns. I plunged and bucked until I was completely sated, more excited than I'd ever been before.

         Was it the danger involved? The lover's moon above? Or just the boy's sensational young body? I neither knew nor cared as I heard the boy mew like a satisfied kitten. With my meat still firmly wedged inside the boy, I reached beneath him and circled his dick with my fist. I jerked him off hard and fast, and delighted in the squeeze his anal muscles gave my cock when I finally made him shoot his frothy wad into the grass.

         I rolled off him and we reclined in a tangle of arms and legs, breathing like marathon runners, as the sun became an orange fireball rising in the east. The boy sat cross-legged, watching as I pulled on my clothing and wriggled my feet into my track shoes.

         He stretched to kiss me, and I closed my eyes, kissing him back. As our lips met, I felt the boy's body jerk, then become stiff. I heard his sharp intake of breath. My eyes flew open just as he fell away from me.

         The thick silver blade of the knife was buried to the hilt, just left of center, between the boy's slender shoulder blades. The black handle looked like the on-off lever to some large piece of machinery, I thought.

         The boy had been turned "off".

         The old woman, even uglier, more crazed looking in the light of dawn, stood glaring down at me, then at the body of the boy. "He was a stealer," the woman said, bending to tug the knife roughly from the boy's back, tearing the smooth brown flesh. "He had others. You were going to be mine. I haven't had a man in a long time. He wasn't supposed to take you, too," the woman said, moving closer.

         I wondered what the old hag was talking about--the dead boy hadn't had any other men--I was sure of that.

         The blade whistled toward me; almost caught me unaware.

         I rolled away and tried to stand on feet still numb from being tied. I failed. The air whooshed from my lungs as I fell hard onto my back.

         The woman crept forward, dazed looking. "Henry's friends are in the cave. He wouldn't share," she muttered, glancing down again at the boy. Her face seemed to clear, like the sun when a cloud passes by. "What have you made me do? My little boy...gone," the woman moaned, inching toward me menacingly, thrusting and slashing with the knife. Her black eyes seemed lit from within by some dark fire.

         I crabbed backward. But the woman was too fast. She ran forward and kicked me in the side of the head with her hard, bare foot. I fell flat, dazed. She raised the knife, poised to drop onto my prostrate body.

         Then I saw a flash in the sunlight. The woman's head spat blood. Another flash. Her head opened from crown to mid-forehead in a gaping crevice of white and pink. She fell stiffly to her knees, still waving the knife weakly in front of her, her eyes looking through me. Her brains, like some morbid, dripping gray moss, oozed down her forehead. She fell onto her side--eyes still staring--but the fire had gone out.

         Then I saw the boy. He stood on rubbery legs, the hubcap he had given me water from clasped by the inner rim, as you would hold a Frisbee. One sharp, serrated side of the metal was covered with gore.

         I struggled to my feet just as the hubcap dropped from the boy's hand. He collapsed near the body of the old woman. I knelt and put my fingertips on the boy's throat.

         No pulse. The knife had done its damage.

******************

         A farmer on his way to town picked me up as I wandered like a limp scarecrow down the middle of the dirt road--a scarecrow with a remarkable story.

         He dropped me off at the sheriff's office in the nearest town. I sat on a hard, wooden chair and told my story to Sheriff Toliver, a tall, gangling man in his fifties who sported a red, handle-bar mustache. The lawman listened attentively, interrupting only to ask a clarifying question now and then.

         When I finished, the sheriff turned to his deputy who sat at a scarred oak desk, feet propped up and fingers laced behind his neck, "Jerome, you remember that woman who knifed her old man and run off with her son three, four years back? What the hell was her name?"

         The deputy stared at the ceiling for a moment, as if reading something there. "Bradley? Bradshaw? Somethin' like that. Helen, I think it was. And the boy, fifteen or sixteen years old, I recollect, was named Harry. No...Henry. Yeah, that's right...Henry. Good-looking kid," he said, spitting a stream of tobacco at a three-pound coffee can on the floor.

         I nodded. "That's what the woman called him...Henry. He was superb. And so sweet. I wish I could have saved him. Damned crazy fucking mother killed him for no reason. Jealous old bitch."

         The sheriff pulled a manila folder from a paint-chipped, army-green file cabinet and read thoughtfully. "Now I remember," he said, shaking his head. "Strange case."

         "Yeah," Jerome said. "The old woman killed her husband 'cause he was messin' with the boy, Henry. No doubt about that...there were witnesses. She hacked hubby up with a sterling silver carving knife."

         "But," Sheriff Toliver interrupted, "The boy was about to be questioned in the disappearance of two boys he went to school with. We found them later, after he and his mom lit out."

         I frowned. "They were okay?"

         "Nope. We found 'em out in the woods. Dead. Worse'n that, though...they'd been eat on. You know...cannibalized," Jerome volunteered. "Some said the boy was one of them whatchamacallits..."

         "Vampire?" I said, horrified.

         Sheriff Toliver closed the file folder and sailed it onto the desk. "Nope. Werewolf. Folks swore they could hear him howling when there was a full moon. I don't put much store in such as that, but he for sure killed those two boys. We found his wallet and other evidence near the bodies." Toliver scratched his head. "Sounds to me like the old woman was just in the mood for a little horizontal two-step, young fella. No tellin' what the boy had in store for you. Mama may have saved your hide before deciding to skin you herself. C'mon, Jerome, let's get out there and see if we can identify the bodies."

         "The woman mentioned a cave, too..." I remembered. "Do you want me to come with you?"

         "Naw. You've been through enough. You can catch a nap in the cell back there if you want. I'll wake you when we get back," Toliver said, taking a sweat-stained Stetson from the hat rack near the door.

         I nodded. Fatigue covered me like a heavy winter blanket.

         As Jerome passed, following the sheriff, he playfully punched me on the shoulder, "Don't worry none 'bout that werewolf shit. S'long as he didn't bite ya, ya have nothing to worry 'bout."

         "Wha-what do you mean?" I studdered.

         "You know. If one uh them things bites ya, ya turn into a werewolf. Least that's the way the legend goes," Jerome said, smiling, as he left the office.

         My arm seemed to weigh a thousand pounds as I lifted my hand toward my mouth. Tentatively, I stretched trembling fingers toward the blood-caked split in my lip. The gash made by Henry's pretty, sharp teeth.

         Through the window of the cell I could see the sky darkening. The moon rose large and round, seemingly close enough to touch.

         I lay on the small cot, wondering what the sheriff and his deputy would find, out in the woods.

         And, as I felt my body changing, I wondered, too, what they would find in the cell when they returned.

The End

dm