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Monday, May 22, 2017

Wiggle Ch. 6 ***NSFW***


Copyright 2017
Bailey Bradford






Chapter Six


Dare woke up in a warm sweat—none of that cold shit for him, especially not after the dream he’d just had. His dick was hard and aching, and his entire body felt like one living sensual thing. The sheets made his skin buzz with need, and his nipples were peaked, sticking up like pebbles. He slept with a nightlight on, and it cast just enough light for him to see by.
He couldn’t remember all of the dream, but he’d felt like he’d been there, not dreaming. And by being there, he meant all the visions of Bowen fucking Chiz into unconsciousness seemed more like memories than something he’d made up.
There’d been the weird bit about Bowen having fuzz pop up on some of his body parts, and the biting thing—Dare shivered, only he wasn’t scared or disgusted. He wished he was; that’d be a normal reaction to seeing a man turn into something still human but nottotally, and there’d been the fangs, the spark of orange and gold in Bowen’s eyes as he sank too-long-to-be-normal teeth into Chiz’s shoulder.
Dare only had a good imagination when it came to drawing, so it was weird how vivid he could see the whole episode as it’ had happened—in his dream, of course.
And his cock was not going to be ignored. Dare turned over so he could reach his night stand. He took out his fattest dildo and his favorite lube. The stuff was expensive but so, so worth it. He kicked aside the blankets and sheet, then set his supplies down by his hip. He wanted to play with his tits for a little while. They weren’t normally sensitive, or not that he knew of, but damn! They were all but crying out to be touched.
When he brushed his hands over both nipples, Dare did a little crying out himself. Pleasure shot from his tits to his groin then spread to every point in his body.
“Oh,” he panted. “Oh, fuck!” How had he not known how much fun those things were?
A few plucks and rubs, and his dick was leaking pre-cum, his hips had a mind of their own and kept pumping and squirming. His entire body burned with need, well, horniness. He couldn’t get the images of Bowen shoving Chiz down over that tailgate and pounding into him.
“Biting,” he muttered as he reached for the lube. He got the tube open. Lube spilled everywhere. Dare could not have cared less. His vision was blurred but he saw Chiz and Bowen in his head, and he had to join them.
He slicked up his dick, then his dildo. That thing was thicker than his fingers combined, but Dare loved working it into himself slowly. The bite of pain, the rough stretch, the complete fullness, those were things he craved.
And if he craved the touch of the two men he was fantasizing about, that was okay. He wasn’t harming anyone.
But he sure wished he had more hands. It’d be nice to have his tits played with while he jacked off and began easing the tip of the fat dildo into his ass.
Dare had plenty of experience with that dildo. He knew how to make himself relax, how to take the entire length of the toy into his ass. Still had to take his time, but that was part of the fun.
As he imagined the two men, Dare could picture himself there as well, maybe leaning up against the back of the truck bed—forget how uncomfortable that would be, it was his fantasy to have, so he’d make it good—and he’d watch the expressions on his lovers’ faces as they fucked.
And they’d watch him, too.
“Not—“ Oh, fuck it! He could pretend they were all three lovers if he wanted to—and he did want to.
Dare stroked his cock slowly as he pushed the dildo further and further into his ass. He squeezed his cheeks, squeezed his eyes shut tighter, squeezed his shaft harder, and the rush of ecstasy that enveloped him stole his breath. With one shove, he buried the toy in, heard Chiz cry out, heard the rumbling, growling sound Bowen made—
Saw fangs and fur in his mind’s eye—
And Dare screamed, coming so hard he thought he might just die from it. Every part of him heated then tingled and sparked like he had live wires flopping loose inside of him. He didn’t know how much he came, how long his climax lasted, but when it did finally end, Dare was limp as overcooked spaghetti. He couldn’t even move his hands or do more than pant.
Eventually, he came out of his sexual stupor. His ass hurt; the dildo was still there, and the cum was making his hand stick to his cock.
“Ungh.” God, he was wrung out, but he needed to get up and shower off. Sheets were probably a mess, too, but he’d deal with that later.
After removing the dildo and carefully releasing his pecker, Dare eased up from the bed. He was a little wobbly as he made his way to the bathroom.
Despite the superb orgasm he’d had, the vision of Chiz and Bowen was still forefront in his mind, even after he’d showered.
Dare checked the time on his phone. It wasn’t even four in the morning yet!
Which means I probably woke up at the Witching Hour. Not that he believed in such a thing, but he’d just watched a movie about witches before he’d gone to bed.
He was wide awake now. Dare sat, naked as the day he’d been born, at his kitchen table and he grabbed his sketch pad. He wouldn’t be able to get rid of the images in his head until he exorcised them.
He spent hours there, drawing Chiz and Bowen in various poses, most of them sexual, but not all of them. He had planned to keep himself out of the sketches, but grinned every time he gave in and made a whispy, barely-there form watching the lovers. It didn’t look like him, but there was a distinctly sexual feeling to his shape.
By the time he finally stopped drawing, it was almost noon. Dare’s fingers ached, and the rest of him was stiff from him hunkering over the table for eight hours. His belly rumbled and he groaned when he set down his pencil. Dare stretched and things popped. He glared at the clock before remembering that he didn’t have a club—bar—to go run anymore.
But he did have to find a job, and getting such a late start was probably not a good thing.
Well, he’d get up early tomorrow and see if he could find something, somewhere. Even if it was just washing dishes, he’d need the money.
Dare studied the sketches he’d done. Normally, he was pretty dismissive of his skills, but there was no denying that these were anything but impressive. He kept staring at them, trying to find a flaw, a mistake, but the drawings had come from his heart—or his libido. Either way, they were the best work he’d ever done.
“Not work.” He stood up, unable to look away from the image he’d masturbated to—Bowen, fierce and not entirely human, fucking Chizclaiming him.
Dare shivered, a little spooked. He scooped the drawings up and carefully considered what to do with them.
It was crazy, but the idea wouldn’t go away. He knew who Bowen was, where he lived. It hadn’t been hard to find out. Dare scraped together some change, not touching his secret stash of savings he kept under the kitchen sink.
Then he quickly dressed himself. He couldn’t believe what he was going to do. He looked at his favorite drawing once more. The wispy shape against the truck bed had some definitely masculine parts, but none that could point toward said shape being Dare.
He gathered the things he needed, then he left his place. He couldn’t believe what he was doing. Didn’t know why he was doing it. As much as Dare wanted it to be a gift, Bowen was likely to think it was something else. After all, he had furry hands and pointed ears, and a ridge of hair going down his spine.
And there were the fangs, or teeth, whatever one would call them. Just looking at those made Dare go warm and jittery with lust.
God, he was losing his marbles.
That was the only thing Dare could blame his actions on as he dropped the sketch into a manilla envelope, sealed it shut, then addressed it to Bowen.
Dare didn’t put his return address on it. He bought several stamps and hoped they’d cover the mailing price. He was too shook up to deal with the post office clerk weighing it out or requesting that he put a return address on the envelope.
Even so, dare didn’t hesitate when he stepped over to the mailbox. He slipped his bold sketch in the box, then he bit his lip and walked away, worrying that he’d somehow left some proof of himself in or on the envelope.
But he hadn’t. His image in the sketch was simply angles and curves.
It would be fine. Bowen would get the sketch and probably think someone was a psycho.

Dare wondered about himself sometimes.

6 comments:

Shorty Chelle said...

Loved it.

nikirenee said...

Nice. I saw one space that said Chiz and it should have been dare but otherwise it was hot. Can't wait for Bowen to flip when he gets the picture

Bailey;-) said...

Thank you, Shorty Chelle! <3 ***huggz***

Bailey;-) said...

Ugh, I am so bad at mixing up names! Any time you see a mistake, please let me know. I'll edit it. I do re-read the installments after I write them, but I usually find the mistakes AFTER I post them anyway. Thank you, nikirenee <3

Margaret S said...

This is going to be one hot story. Loved it.

Bailey;-) said...

Thank you, Margaret S! <3

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