He heard her coming, knew she was a “she” by her scent. He was confused. It was night. Humans didn’t visit the forest at night, especially during the full moon.
He avoided humans or tried to. In spite of his reputation, all he wanted to do was hunt prey, tonight it had been a large and tasty hare, and experience the world around him. He had cataloged all of the woodland animals within a five mile radius merely by sound and smell. His meal had satisfied him, so he was no longer dangerous unless cornered or attacked. None of the creatures in the forest were foolish enough to do either…
…except maybe her.
Like all wolves, he was partially color blind, at least compared to humans. He could see blues and reds. She was wearing red.
He was off of the trail, behind shrubs, lying in a small depression in the ground, listening, smelling, and now watching. She was taller than he expected, not a child, but a woman. She was carrying that silly picnic basket. What sort of person goes to grandmother’s house through a foreboding forest in the middle of the night? For that matter, the wolf suddenly questioned why he should know all this about her.
She stopped and looked around, then her piercing gaze alighted upon him, even though she shouldn’t have been able to see him.
“Oh, there you are, you naughty boy. Hiding from me again?”
The woman in the red cloak and hood left the path and started walking in his direction. Startled, he stood and was about to turn and run.
“No, wait. I won’t hurt you. I just want to talk. If you’re hungry, I brought something for you.”
He knew the exact contents of the basket. Roast beef, bread, the hint of a delightful Shiraz. Delightful?
“Come now, sweetie. You are a big one, aren’t you.”
She was nearly within arm’s reach and yet the wolf felt rooted to the spot, unable to flee. He allowed a terrible snarl to escape his throat as he bared his fangs.
“Don’t you growl at me, big bad wolf. I might decide to leave you out here after the sun comes up and then where would you be?”
The thought actually upset him. Alone in the woods during daylight?
She put the basket down, opened it, removed a folded checkered tablecloth, and then spread it on the ground under a large oak.
“If you aren’t hungry, that’s fine, but you can at least sit with me for a while.”
She lifted her white skirt a bit exposing long, luscious legs clad in sheer stockings. She sat and hiked up the skirt a little more, and then even more, letting the wolf admire the view.
“Like what you see? There’s more available, but you’ve got to promise to be good. Well,” she chuckled, “maybe not too good.”
He was panting and drooling. It was embarrassing. She wasn’t remotely attractive from a wolf’s point of view and she didn’t smell like a she-wolf in heat, so why were his thoughts so focused on mounting her?
“Come here.” She patted part of the table cloth right next to her. “I won’t bite. Then again, maybe I will. Would you like me to?”
Her grin was lascivious and innocent at the same time. The wolf’s mind was whirling. He became aware that he was sitting next to her and that he enjoyed the experience.
She pulled her red hood back revealing long, luxurious blond hair. Then she unbuttoned the top of her cloak revealing her low cut dress as well as a generous portion of cleavage.
The woman started stroking his fur. Part of him wanted to run but another part shivered with delight. Her hands felt so good on his body, his ribs, scratching his neck. Then he was on his back and she was rubbing his tummy.
“This is what little Red’s big bad boy really wants, isn’t it?”
He couldn’t believe where her hands were touching now and what they were doing. He growled but out of sheer beastly abandonment, not anger or fright.
Wait. This couldn’t be happening. He had to go, the sky was getting lighter. He had to hide, to get back home. He…
“Scarlett?”
“It’s me again, lover.”
“You came out here…the wolf…”
“Has never hurt me, Randy. You would never hurt me. In fact, quite the opposite.” Full red lips smirked at the thought and she giggled.
“I’m not even dressed, darling and we’re in the middle of nowhere. Let me up. We’ve got to go home.”
“Oh no you don’t.” He tried to sit up but she pushed him down on his back again. “I’ve got you right were I want you.” Scarlett removed the rest of her crimson cloak, tossed it aside, and then started unbuttoning the front of her dress.
“Hey, it’s cold out here.”
“I brought a blanket.” Then she was on him, taking her prey like a wild creature of the forest.
I recently read a story online called Weekend Wolf by H.L. Sailer which was reblogged at Fictionspawn Monsters. It’s a retelling of the “Little Red Riding Hood” fairy tale updated more for adults.
I decided to write a similar story just for kicks, but halfway through, I needed at least one image of a “sexy” red riding hood. I don’t like to rip off people’s work, so I try to find images that are publicly available for reuse. In this case, I discovered stills from the 2011 film Red Riding Hood. I also discovered that the plot of the film was a little too close to my own. I pushed through and finished my story anyway because, after all, I’m just writing for fun.
Oh, the name of my heroine should be obvious, but there are dozens and dozens of names that are associated with wolves including Randall, Randolph, and Randi.
How did she know where to find him? They do this every month during the full moon. He just doesn’t remember.
Very, very very nice!
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Thanks, Q. I always worry when I write a story with an erotic theme that people will be offended. Of course, I didn’t make it too erotic, but there’s a lot implied.
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So you’ve reversed the rules of the werewolf curse, that turn a man into a wolf at the full moon, and left him a wolf except at that time. Either way seems just as unreasoning, doesn’t it? But I would think that your readers who might protest would be objecting to the implicit mysogynism of the woman as opportunistic predator.
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Scarlett goes into the forest at the end of every full moon near sunrise to meet her husband Randy. Of course, having chosen to marry such a person, she’s bound to have a few quirks in her personality, PL.
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A few quirks, you say? Well, I should say so. Any ordinary wife would have had him penned up long before, domesticated, fed a controlled diet, and likely examined by numerous veterinary specialists.
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Sounds like what my wife is doing to me, PL. Especially the controlled diet part.
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Women are much more dangerous than men, more cunning, and are total predators. It’s all about them.
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I had hoped I’d communicated that she was acting all in fun, George. Welcome to my blog. Feel free to look around and enjoy the place.
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Perhaps I will re-read and not project my thoughts onto your writing the next time.
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Thanks, George. I really was trying to portray Scarlett as playfully seductive with a little kinky on the side. Randy is probably a lot more conservative and I imagine them as married pretty recently, maybe just a year or two. Little Red loves her “big bad wolf.”
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Good one! Thanks again for the link.
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You’re welcome.
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