Werewoman: Part 4 (Patreon)

The only thing greater than my shock was the heady rush of euphoria that infused my mind and body!  Perhaps this rush was an intrinsic part of the ‘curse’ or perhaps it was a natural reaction to suddenly being one of the hottest babes the city, probably both, but I am absolutely filled with elation at my impossible transformation.  It is equally impossible to describe but I could feel, deep down on an instinctual level, that this metamorphosis was not something to be feared nor something that was a permanent state.  The more I concentrate on these new shapeshifting instincts the more I felt the weight of the full moon shining high over the city.  Even though I could not see it I could feel the looming lunar presence in my bones.

And with that feeling is gifted an innate understanding of my new lycanthropic condition.  Intuitively I know that I had some level of control over this.  Not tonight, but on most nights.  Tonight, under the full moon, the impetus to transform was irresistible.  On the flip side the ability to shift like this would be impossible under a new moon when it was just a black disk hidden among the stars.  But on every other night of waxing and waning this nocturnal power to change from male to female was mine to control, though the urge to do so would shift with the fullness of the moon’s light.  A single night of uncontrolled change per month did not seem that onerous of a condition.

In that same innate way I also had a sense of lineage.  “Candace” was my progenitor but there were others before her…and him.  A secretive line of werewomen stretching back generations.  I didn’t know details but the echoes of those ancestors coursed through my veins.  It was the blood after all.  Only through direct contact of blood to blood did the condition pass on.

As this understanding settled in any glimmer of fear or sense of mourning for my lost manhood quickly faded to be replaced by a sense of genuine celebration that filled me to the brim.  This wasn’t scary and it was certainly no curse.  This was a blessing!  A big pretty smile brightens my new features as I feel my face and stare in the mirror.

“God damn!”  I say at a hush.  “I am so…fucking…HOT!”

A nanosecond later my hands are all over myself.  My body might be that of an elite level hottie but my mind was still my own.  

My tits are phenomenal!  Big, heavy, squeezable tits that felt even better being fondled than it felt to fondle.  With both hands I push them together, I pull them apart, I massage them, I rub them, I lift them and let them drop just to see them jiggle, and I tease and pinch at the big taut nipples.  I snicker as I think about the insights this was going to give me with women in the future.  Some of them acted like letting their boobs be groped was a great selfless favor they were doing to their partner.  Sorry ladies, I knew your secret now.  This shit felt GOOD and it was lighting the rest of my body up.

My hands glide down my smooth shapely belly then down my curvy hips and back around to my full perky ass.  Turning around and getting up on my tip toes to see my butt better in the mirror I am treated with a framed vision of derriere perfection.  Smooth and firm yet soft in all the right ways my thick ass would make a corpse pop wood.  Dear Lord, this wasn’t an ass it was a work of art!

I resist the urge to grab my snatch opting to save the best for last.  With my hands and eyes I explore every sexy, sensual, nubile inch of my new form.  The flawless fair skin was as smooth as silk, the flesh supple, the curves and contours gentle and sumptuous.  My long raven black hair shone with a natural luster that most women would kill for.  Paired with my vibrant green eyes and super model good looks I’d turn the head of any straight guy with a pulse.  After just a couple of minutes of admiring myself my so called resistance cracks like an eggshell.  Grabbing a hand mirror from the drawer I hurry to the toilet.  Sitting on the lid I spread my legs wide.

“Oh yes!”  I gasp at the sight.

Studying it closely through the mirror I see that my cunt was a top shelf as the rest of me.  A cute little clit, two elegantly slender symmetrical lips, all framed by a subtle soft mound on either side.  I carefully run a fingertip up the crack of my slit and a delightful shiver of arousal shoots through me.

“Oh wow!  And I thought my dick was sensitive!”

I hesitate a moment as some weird form of chivalry wanted to respect this gorgeous body’s modesty.  After reminding myself that this was indeed my body to do with as I liked modesty is tossed to the side and I spread my pussy lips wide to reveal the bright pink within.

“Ohhhhh fuck.”  I sigh.  I’d seen a hell of a lot of pussies in my day, mostly in porn mind you, but this one put them all to shame.  My slit was petite and the loveliest shade of glistening wet pink.  A picture of it deserved to be in a museum of muff.

It was a very, very odd thing to realize I was being turned on by myself.  Even odder was the way in which I was horny.  It was just as intense as before but…different.  My male libido had this element of being aggressive and outwardly directed.  With the instincts of a hunter it was a sort of seek and destroy type of arousal.  The feeling I had now was the opposite.  Inwardly directed my body sought to seduce, attract, and subsume.  To put it bluntly, there was a space that needed filling.  

I tease as the pink to find it slick without being slimy and oh so sensitive.  Fueled by lust I suck my middle finger and without hesitation slide it into the hottest, tightest, wettest fucking pussy I’d ever felt!

“Ohhhhh!”  The feeling of just that single finger penetrating me was…bliss.  I grip down on the digit, clenching my cunny down on it, and push it all the way in.  “Hohhh!”  And I thought it felt good from the other side!  Oh my God!  I start to finger myself, slow at first but quickly getting faster.  My other hand, moving in response to natural urges, drops the mirror on the bathmat and finds my clitty to rub it furiously.  Huffing and moaning I start humping against my hand as it thrusts faster and faster.  Fuck I was so wet!  And the wetter I got the better and easier it felt.  Wanting more I add a second finger to the action and discover that twice the girth meant twice the pleasure.  “Holy shit, yes!”  I wished I had more hands.  I my tits were crying for attention, my body aching to be touched, and I wished I could still see myself in that mirror, but both my hands were busy with far more important matters.

Faster I finger fuck myself, my sopping vag making wonderfully lewd wet sloppy sounds, and an intoxicating pleasure begins to build in my loins.  A gradually growing pressure that demanded I continue.

“Hnnngh!  Ohhmmmm!  Ohhhh God!”  My lilting feminine voice moans wantonly.  A urgency seizes me as all of a sudden that pressure that had been building threatens to explode…and then it does!  “OHHHHHHHHHH!!!”

My body heaves and bucks and bounces as powerful waves of orgasm roll through my body.  And what an fucking orgasm!  As a dude my nut was hyper concentrated in the prostate, balls and cock but as a dudette my whole damn groin area, inside and out, was spasming with a deep mind-bending pleasure.  Not only was it more intense, it lasted longer too!  I never knew heaven on Earth could last this long!  Whimpering ecstatically I hump my hand and rub my button to draw out my climax twice or three times as long as I’d ever cummed before.

When it is over I slump back and let my arms fall to my sides.  “Oh my God!”  I pant.  “That was…crazy.”

Even more crazy, while I was feeling really tender for the moment, was the urge I felt for more.  I had just had the best orgasm of my life and my body was telling me, “More please.”  After a hard nut usually I felt spent, at least for awhile, but in this body there was more pleasure to be had if I wanted it.  Being a woman fucking ROCKED!

I sit catching my breath and wondering what I ought to do next.  As good as my fingers felt I wanted more.  The fingers were great but my pussy craved something thicker, longer and more substantial.  In my head I rapidly begin to catalog all of my belongings and organize out anything that might be used as a dildo.  The thought of dildos brings to mind the novelty and kink store nearby that I had walked by hundreds of times.  Why settle for a brush handle when I could get a tool made for the job.  A vibrator too, yes!  That would be fun!

With a horny spring in my step I skip my way to my room, pausing at any reflective surface just to ogle my tits and ass.  As I start to dig through my clothes looking for something appropriate I might wear a terrible, awful, evil thought strikes me.  Why settle for a toy when I could so easily get the real thing?  Looking like this I could get any guy that I wanted.  But…did I want a guy?  Was that gay?  I mean, my body was female.  Right?  Was it mind or body that counted?  And did it even really matter?  Moments after this wicked thought comes another, even more sinful than the first.

At this very second, just a few blocks away, I knew where there were a quartet of horny dudes who would do anything for a night with this.

Part 5