Stupid Coffee Tricks : Tales of a Wawa employee

Black James Kid

Rider of a pale horse
Werewolf pr0n

Wow. So I haven't had anything to say here since January. Damn.
Of course, not many other people have either.

My muse whispered something terribly naughty and erotic in my ear, and I ran with it. The following untitled story is of an adult nature. If you're a minor stop reading now. If you're offended by werewolf sexing, stop reading now. If you're bored and have nothing better to do, keep reading.


Part 1 of 2 because of the character limit.

Alexandra wrapped her hands around the hot cup of tea. The faint hint of roses rode along with the steam rising from the liquid's surface. It warmed her fingers with its heat and warmed her heart with pleasant memories as well.
Pictures flashed before her eyes on her laptop screen, each one staying for a moment before being replaced by the next. Each photograph that downloaded from her camera brought her a little closer to her quarry. Her heartbeat quickened as the pictures progressed. There were the birds from this morning, the squirrel, the hare, the trees and the icicles, and then what she'd been waiting for : the fresh tracks and then the sable fur behind a log. Her heart skipped a beat at the next image. He really had been looking right at her. The wolf's eyes seemed to pierce her soul even though they were only on her computer screen. She didn't even realize she was reaching out to touch him until the picture changed, and all that was there was trees. She blinked and shook her head, clearing it of the selfmade enchantment.
She chided herself. "Silly girl."
When the transfer of pictures from camera to computer was done she had to force herself to go through them one at a time, discarding those she didn't like, keeping those she did, and making notes on what she might want to edit later. And finally she came back to him; the sable colored wolf that haunted her dreams ever since she glimpsed him a day after coming to the cabin.
She sat there, just staring at the picture of him staring back at her. Every time she so much as glimpsed him, she was enchanted all over again. This time Alexandra's mind wandered until her tea was cold in her hands. She had been making some small inarticulate sounds of pleasure, wondering what she might look like down on four legs instead of two; what fur might feel like against fur. She snapped out of her reverie when she realized the howl she'd heard was real, and not a product of her imagination.
With great alacrity she left the small den and went out the cabin's front door, hoping the sound would come again. It did. A long, soulful howl reverberated through the woods and traveled to her core. Without even thinking, and before she even realized it, her voice echoed an answer. It happened twice more before he went silent. She finally stepped back inside the cabin, shivering from the cold, but utterly overwhelmed and giddy with excitement. He had answered her. Good gods, he had howled back to her. She flopped onto the couch in the den and realized she didn't have a word to describe how good she felt. It was like a first kiss, and she realized she was craving more.
Alexandra sighed dejectedly, immediately recognizing she couldn't get anymore than what she'd just had; and to think otherwise was pure fantasy. Of course, what was wrong with a little fantasy? An impish smile lit up her face and she pulled a duffle bag out from under the coffee table.
Inside the bag lay the evidence of one of her most closely guarded secrets : cuffs, chains, locks, rope, and other assorted items whose obvious purpose was to indulge their owner's deep desire to be bound and restrained. Her breathing quickened a little, and she made tiny sounds even as she handled what would become the impliments of her little bondage adventure for the night. First she picked out the locks and keys she would need, checking to make sure the keys went to the proper locks, and the locks were in good working order. She placed the keys and one of her favorite glass toys on the bedroom floor, then returned to the den. Her dexterous fingers wrapped leather cuffs around her ankles, wrists, and thighs. She savored the feeling of the material kissing her skin and hugging her flesh. Each "snikt" of the tiny locks that fixed the cuffs in place on her person seemed to echo in her ears.
She knelt on the floor and locked each ankle cuff to it's matching thigh cuff, right ankle to right thigh, left ankle to left thigh. It was impossible for her to walk now, and she was about to lose a lot more freedom. The anticipation was like electricity, and it made her wet between her legs. The temptation to simply retreive a dildo and masturbate right there threatened to overwhelm her then, so she quickly finished her bondage by locking her wrists to her ankles by a very short length of chain. It gave her just enough slack in her bondage to be able to unlock herself when she retreived the keys, but not enough to touch herself.
The moan that erupted out of her throat was equal parts frustration and arousal. The bondage had her excited to the point where all she desperately wanted was to be able to masturbate to orgasm; and at the same time it completely denied her the ability to do so. It was just the way she liked it. The frustration stoked her excitement, which increased her frustration; it was a vicious circle of arousal with no release in sight. When she finally couldn't stand it anymore, and was absolutely convinced she couldn't possibly touch herself to get off, she began making her way to the bedroom.
A trip that would normally have taken less than a handful of seconds required many minutes from her now. Alexandra squirmed, rolled, butt hopped, and otherwise slowly made her way to the bedroom. It was a tiring trek, during which she was quite vocal, letting herself release some of the pent up tensions in whorish moans and whines. When she finally entered the bedroom and reached the keys it was like nirvanna. Her hands rushed to undo the locks holding her wrists to her ankles. When they were free, she completely ignored her ankles still bound to her thighs, and instead grabbed her glass toy and began masturbating. It didn't take long, given the fevered pitch of excitement she was already experiencing. When she came she made inarticulate sounds, primitive animalistic sounds pulled from deep in her belly.
When she recovered, she finally finished unlocking herself and crawled into her bed, figuring she'd pick up and clean up the next morning. If she'd had any inclination to the eyes that had been watching her, she might have done so before falling asleep.
Of course she had no reason to suspect any eyes might have been on her. The cabin was remote, so far removed from other people that it ran on solar power and a generator. It was an ancestral inheritance from her father's father, and his father before him. It was hers now, and she'd come to it to escape the city, to save her sanity from the crush of too many people in too small a space and air that felt like it caked itself inside her lungs.
She drifted off to sleep under the flannel bedding in the warm afterglow of sex, thinking about sable fur and soul piercing yellow eyes.


Alexandra awoke suddenly, with a violent start. There was weight pressing into the mattress next to her and the sensation of fur against her skin. Panic set in immediately. Visions of a hungry bear or mountain lion or gods knew what danced through her mind in a split second. She screamed and tried to roll out of her bed.
Before she could make even half a turn the weight and fur was over top of her. She tried to thrash, to throw it off, only to have her arms grasped by something that felt like coarse leather. Her hands were hauled above her toward the headboard powerfully, by something that seemed to not even notice her violent protestations. Then she heard the ratcheting clicking and felt the cold steel circling her wrists. Handcuffs now held her to the headboard. If it was possible, her panic grew deeper with the realization it wasn't just something in her bed with her, but also someone.
She couldn't make anything out in the complete inky black gloom of the room. The lights were out; and it was a moonless, overcast night. All she knew were the feelings and the sounds as they happened. Her mind churned, trying to figure out what was going on. Who or what was on top of her? Why was this happening? What was happening?
Still, Alexandra thrashed, trying to free herself. She screamed, calling for help, begging for this not to be happening. Then a weight settled down over her bare belly, like the weight of a whole person. It made breathing a little difficult, and there was fur against her skin again. After a little while she finally stopped kicking and screaming, realizing her struggle wasn't going to get her anywhere.
There wasn't anyone else out in these woods. She was alone and utterly at the mercy of this intruder. She was terrified beyond words, but she refused to cry. Something inside refused to break down like that. She wouldn't give the bastard the satisfaction.

Black James Kid

Rider of a pale horse
Werewolf pr0n

Part 2 of 2

For a little while the tiny cabin was entirely silent but for her own breathing. She thought perhaps she could hear the other breathing as well, but didn't know if it was just her terrified imagination filling in blanks for her. She became aware of a smell also. It was a musky, earthy, woodsy smell that she'd never known before.
Suddenly, without thinking, before she even realized she meant to speak, she blurted out "What do you want?", the terror clear in her trembling voice.
A low chuckle from the darkness answered her. Then there was a voice. It was low and raspy, as if it hadn't been used in a long time. "I think, my dear, the question is what do you want? You've certainly been doing your best to follow me around."
Her mind spun. She hadn't been following anyone around. There wasn't another person in these woods for miles; not that she knew of anyway. The only thing she'd been trying to follow... No. It wasn't even remotely possible. She became still anyway, and her heart quickened in her chest just at the thought of it. She swallowed, and spoke again, her voice still trembling. "Who are you?"
The gravelly voice answered her again. "I had a name, but I forgot it a long time ago."
The weight on her shifted a tiny bit, then something small and sharply pointed ran up her side from her ribs to curl up over her chest and whisped away from her skin at her neck. After the caress, he spoke again. "Why are you here?"
Alexandra's mind railed at the question. He had broken into her cabin, cuffed her to her own bed, and he was asking HER why SHE was HERE? Despite the terror, anger blossomed in her chest and she found defiance, strength that stedied her voice and even put the edge of anger into it. "You're asking ME why I'm HERE?! What fucking right do you have to ask me something like that?!"
He chuckled again. She was unsure if she heard amusement in that sound. "I'm the one on top. Now why are you here and why have you been following me around?"
The defiance and anger were in her voice as she answered, though her mind still spun at the question. "I haven't been following anyone around. I haven't seen another person in over a week. I happen to like it that way." The impossible thought touched her mind again, and the nerves in her abdomen took the moment to remind her of the fur touching her skin. It couldn't be. It just couldn't be. But she yearned anyway. In the darkness, away from civilization and rational thoughts, away from what her eyes told her, she wanted it to be true. She ached for it to be true.
His voice was firm, and had lost some of its gravel, perhaps because he was finally using it after so long. "You've been following ME around. Or did you think I hadn't seen you when I looked over my shoulder? Didn't smell you on the wind?"
The angry and rational part of her head spoke before she could stop it. "Wolves don't talk!"
His response was immediate and it silenced her protests. "Werewolves DO."
Her breath stopped dead in her throat. Her mind rebelled. No. It couldn't be. They didn't exist. No matter how much she wanted it, they didn't exist. But there was fur sitting on her stomach, and how would he know she'd been following anything unless.... Then out of all the things her drowning mind could have grasped onto, of all the things she could say, she chose to ask "Where'd you get the cuffs then?"
She felt the weight shift again. Fur brushed her cheek; thick, soft, silky fur tickled her nerves and she couldn't help herself. Despite the terror, despite the anger, she started to become physically excited.
His voice was at her ear, whispering. "There were all kinds of things in your bag." Something pulled on her hair, gently tugging her head to one side. Fur pressed itself into the side of her face. His voice was so close now she felt the heat of his breath pass over her ear. "I saw what you did with them."
She didn't know if he could see her reaction in the dark, but she was sure she went wide eyed and blushed a deep crimson. Moments passed, and nothing happened. Tension hung heavy in the air, like the quiet before the storm. He broke it, with another sharp thing slowly drug down the center of her chest. Alexandra couldn't help herself, wouldn't have stopped even if she'd wanted to; she moaned quietly and arched into the touch.
The fur had pulled away from her face even as the touch had happened, and now his voice was away from her ear again. It was still gravelly, but an edge of something had crept into it, something she couldn't quite identify, maybe it was mischief. She really wasn't sure. "Do you know what else I smelled then, when you were following me around? What I smell right now?"
She had no idea what he was talking about, and her voice was becoming small. She was losing herself in the moment, rational thought quickly deserting her. "No."
The word rolled off his tongue like liquid poetry "Arousal."
Suddenly there was a tongue on one of her breasts. An impossibly long and flexible tongue was teasing her, lapping over skin and roughly dragging itself over her nipple. She arched and moaned again, loudly this time. Pleasures she'd only ever dared to dream of were suddenly becoming reality and she wanted them, craved them, ached for them all. Then the tongue was gone. She whined in protest, desperately wanting it to return.
He spoke to her again, though she was close to only half hearing him as she sunk further into her own desires and the feelings her body was feeding her. "You were aroused then like you are now, aroused by me on four legs. I was going to leave it alone after the first time. But you kept coming back, following me; and every time I could smell it on you after you'd gone. It's been more years than I can recall since I've had a mate. I believe I'm going to make the most of this. What do you think of that idea?"
All the secrets were there, all the dark desires she kept to herself were being offered up in those words and in the situation she was in. Somewhere in Alexandra's head a fuse blew and all the rational thoughts went away. All that was left was something more primitive, something driven by the force of pure lustful desire. She growled at him and thrashed against the cuffs holding her arms to the headboard. This time though it wasn't because she wanted to be free and away, no. She wanted to wrap herself around his body, feel his fur with every inch of her skin and ravage him like a wild animal. Her voice was pure demand. "Goddamit! Fuck me. Make me like you and fuck me!"
His weight shifted again, and suddenly the entire line of his body was pressed into her. The sensation of fur seemed to sweep over and envelope her. And then his member was thrust inside of her. It was warm, and slick, and larger than she was used to. The shape was different, but that didn't matter. The fantasy become reality was so powerful she almost orgasmed from his entry alone. Then he was thrusting and pounding, literally pounding at her. A teeny tiny voice at the back of her head warned her she would be far more than sore in the morning, but she was too far gone to give it any heed or even to care about it.
She orgasmed before he did, screaming her pleasure into the witnessless night. She was too sensitive then, she wanted it to stop. But he wasn't about to, and there was nothing she could do to stop him. The reality of the situation tumbled over her mind again. She was locked to the bed being fucked by a werewolf. The sensitivity transmuted to excitement and she started reaching for another peak even before her body could come down from the first.
Alexandra was vaguely aware of the shape of his cock changing. As she came again his knot formed inside her, tieing them together and he howled out his own pleasure. The bed shuddered under them both. For a while everything was quiet again, except for the ragged breathing of two bodies. She was only marginally aware of it when his weight came off of her for a moment and she found her hands free of the cuffs. She wrapped her arms around his body and buried her hands in the fur on his back; luxuriating in the feeling of soft fur over hard muscle and his cock still buried inside her, the knot tieing them together.
Sleep needed little time to claim them both.


I may or may not do anything more with this in the future. If I do, I may or may not post it here.

Black James Kid

Rider of a pale horse
It hurts like nothing else

There is a weight on my chest, a tightness in my body that has nothing to do with my physical health.

I am tired, and I want to sleep, and I know it had nothing to do with how active I haven't been.

I love her so much that this hurts.

Because as much as I tell her "It's okay, no pressure.", as much as I can intillectually accept her fear of meeting has very little to do with who I am, and is much more about the experiences she's had in her life; it fucking hurts like hell emotionally. And it threatens to throw me off a precipise from which I am afraid I might not find the strength to return from.

I really am hoping that American Airlines goes out of business in a week. At least then I could hold on to some self-illusion and perhaps keep a grasp on my sanity.

Black James Kid

Rider of a pale horse

Wow, once again it's been just about forever since I posted here. And looking up it appears that I left on a helluva post. Sorry about that.

The short of it : that trip actually went very very well. I have a Love in this world who loves me in return. That's a wonderful thing, and I wish everyone could have it.

The long of it : not gonna get into that right now. It's late and I'm tired.

Black James Kid

Rider of a pale horse
I Am Fucking Terrified

And yet I have hope as well.

I am forcing a new chapter of my life to start.

In a few months I am picking up my shit and I am moving out of this hell hole in North Carolina. I am leaving behind my family, my job, my home, my safety net. I am leaving behind a place that only makes me miserable and in which I will never be happy, never be able to pursue the things I want, do the things I desire to do with my life.

I am going to Indianapolis. I am gaining proximity to friends and the woman I love. I will have the chance to pursue college and write.

I will need to find a job, a place of my own to live.

I must get over whatever this mental block is that fucks up my ability to drive.

I am afraid I will fail, spectacularly, and in Epic Fashion.

I am hopeful that I will succeed, at least enough that I won't be a condensed ball of nearly insane misery that is inching closer to lashing out at the world every day.

But mostly, I'm just fucking terrified right now.