The Futa’s Little Red Preview

In my dreams a wolf howls, low and mournful.

Perhaps it is not a dream. Perhaps it is a sound that drifts from the mountains, down to the window that I've left open, for I am warm with fever and feel it deep in my belly, rising to blossom and fill me with the same yearning need that I've felt for months, only doubled.

 I writhe in my bed, tossing and turning, but this time, I do not lie in the sheets alone. Lorelei lies with me. Her fingers trail along the curve of my breast, and longing mounts with every caress as the fingertip circles my swell, closer and closer to the hardening bud of my nipple.

"Your first heat approaches," she whispers. 

Lorelei’s very strength roots me, even as she guides me towards the heavens. She tugs the sensitive tan peaks, inciting pleasure that draws a gasp from my lips. Something hard and hot presses against my leg and I wonder when and how we undressed.

"My heat?" I ask.

"Yes. This time, you cannot suppress it. You've come of age, Scarlett, and your soul hungers for me as I hunger for you," she says into my ear. 

I draw in a sharp breath, legs spreading to invite her to explore there where I've dared not touch. Instinctively, I know it would not be the same, but this lover is skilled and knows how to hold me suspended in this madness of sensation that makes my heart race and my breaths hiccup in my chest.

"I do not know what that means..." I whisper and turn my head to seek her lips. They are soft. Two tiers of the sweetest fruit. She offers it to me as my hands slide down the curve of her bare hips.

"It means you want to be fucked, my love. Mated. Taken. Knotted. Drowned in pleasure. But first you must embrace your wolf spirit," she says. Her lips brush against my ear with every word. 

I groan and she possessively cups my maidenhood. The captivating prize that another has not held. Her middle finger manipulates tender flesh where slippery essence trickles and seeps, and I think I may die from her touch alone.

"How?" I will do anything to be with her.

"Deep down within the very heart of who you are, you know how." 

As if my beloved searches for the heart of me, her fingers drag over my hard bud only to press against my virginal entrance, and my heart thunders in my ears. I cannot stand it anymore, and roll over onto her to stare down at her beauty. Her hair is a russet gold, shimmering with copper, and I've never seen eyes so golden, or heard a voice so deep and rough that it reaches into my belly and draws more of my lust to the surface.

My eyes drift further down her body, over her small pert nipples, and the flat plane of her stomach. Lower still, and I gasp when I see the thick organ of her cock wedged between my folds as I roll my hips, gliding my need along hers to leave a glistening trail. Her hands grasp my thighs and she struggles for control. She strives not to give into this fire and storm as her eyes hold mine before she rises and captures my right breast in her mouth.

The wind of the winter night sends howling wails through the window, but I do not feel its chill. I only feel the heat of passion. The blistering estrus of sexual awakening as her tongue massages my nipple. I feel every stroke between my thighs as I grind harder, body bombarded with sensual abandon.

I want to ask her name, but I cannot speak. I can only succumb to the edge of bliss while the maelstrom of sensation crashes into me and a soundless scream on my lips. It reverberates and echoes in ecstasy as my sex clenches, seeking the heat of her hard arousal. My whine wordlessly pleas, but she is stronger than me.

"Not yet." She groans, though the zeal of her lust doubles as she continues to guide me up and down her bare cock.. "When I fill you, I do not want it to be in a dream."

Pleasure sparks and explodes with a fury. I give myself over to it, body convulsing with pleasure as my orgasm soars. My  lover groans and flips me over to slide the thickness of her power through my folds, hips quickening as my slick petals provide the friction she needs. I know without a doubt that there is more. This is only the cusp of the pleasure I could and should have. 

"But I cannot deny you your treat, can I?"

No, she will not deny me. 

Her lips hover over mine as her hips blur in movements far too fast for my mind to process, and that surging pressure builds within me again, violently seeking an outlet. Breaths. Kisses. Moaning cries. And suddenly hot sticky pleasure spurts in thick droplets against my folds, onto my stomach and pelvis. Our lips meet hotly as she buries the sound of her pleasure in my mouth. 

"You are mine, Scarlett. Never forget that. The night of the Wolf's Moon draws closer. Find me, my love." 

She kisses me one last time and nuzzles her nose against my neck, inhaling the scent of my skin before she whispers. 

"Wake up, beloved."

I wake with a start, skin damp, and that place between my legs pulses with a wet heat that says the sinful pleasure was not merely in my mind. The cold does not touch me, for the heat of my skin repels it, and for the first time since the dreams began, I wonder if they are real. If she is real..

If she is real, I do not know what this means... and I am terrified to find out.