Blac Werewolf Utopia

The life of a werewolf is a dangerous and thrilling thing. Trust me, I know. My name is Harold Rameau. I'm a tall, good-looking young black man of Haitian descent living in Boston, Massachusetts. I've been a wolfman my entire life. Please don't be frightened. I'm not here to eat you. I'm just a guy with a story to share, that's all. The story I'm about to share with you concerns my adventures after I was thrown out of my Pack by my father and mother, Leandre and Marianne Rameau.

I came to Boston to start a new life. There are quite a few Packs living in the Boston area. Wolfmen and wolfwomen walking unseen among the hordes of humans. We've always been here. They just didn't realize it. And whenever one of them comes forward with a story, he or she is ignored, or thrown into a mental institution. Humanity is its own worst enemy. Life out here ought to be a breeze, if it weren't for the damn Pack Wars. Wolfmen and Wolfgirls are getting killed out here. And for what? The same old bullshit. Wars are all the same.

The city of Boston seemed like an interesting place, filled with the promise of adventure. That's how I felt when I came here a couple years ago. I attend Boston College on an academic scholarship. Someday, I'm going to be a lawyer. A damn good one. If I don't flunk out of school or get myself killed. I've got to watch out for my own people as well as strangers. My parents banished me from my birth Pack. My refusal to marry this high-maintenance broad named Monique Joseph had a lot to do with it. First of all, I don't think the whole marriage thing is a good idea. Not for me anyway.

I'm a bisexual man. My parents know this but pretend otherwise. Although I do like some girls, I can't see myself giving up guys forever. Also, when it comes to chicks, Monique really wasn't my type. She was short and skinny. I like them tall and thick. We did have some good times together, though. I recall one time we hooked up in my father's garden while the poor bastard was at work. I was lying on a hammock, jerking off while reading an erotic magazine when Monique came by. She was completely naked. All five feet three inches and one hundred and twenty pounds of her. I must admit she looked pretty. With her curly black hair framing her round face, her light brown skin and pale gray eyes. Yeah, she was hot. So we had a go at it.

As I lay on the hammock, Monique reached for my sex. She grasped my cock in her slim hands and to my great surprise, put it in her mouth. Wow. For some reason, I didn't think of Monique as the oral sex type. Lots of chicks won't go down on a guy for many reasons. Yet they fully expect him to service them whenever and wherever. What madness! Quid pro quo, ladies! Monique sucked my cock and licked my balls. I was surprised by her skill in that area. I didn't think pampered young wealthy women like her got down and dirty like the rest of us. She sucked me until I came and to my even greater surprise, she gulped down every last drop of my cum. Wow!

Yeah, I'd be lying if I said Monique Joseph and I didn't have some good times. However, she was very jealous and prone to abusive outbursts. Around her, people walked on eggeshells. I'm not down with that. Is it wrong for a man to have second thoughts about marrying a verbally abusive and power-hungry control freak? I don't think so. On the day I was supposed to get married, I took a plane from Port-Au-Prince, Haiti to Boston, Massachusetts. Monique's parents swore revenge, as did mine. I don't give a fuck. I'm never going back there. I just wish I hadn't walked straight into another damn Pack War.

Like I said before, the ruling Packs of Boston are at war and an unattached male like myself is a prime target for them. In time of war, you either seize or dispose of any possible weapon. If it isn't in your hands, your enemies will most likely use it. And every single wolfman or wolfwoman out there is a weapon. Let no one tell you otherwise. They wanted to make me their pawn. The truth is that I'm nobody's frigging pawn. I don't even like chess!

In the movies, wolfmen and wolfwomen are often shown to be slavering, towering beasts that would scare the Devil himself. In real life, we're nothing like these monstrosities. The truth is that we're worse. The average wolfman is ten times stronger and five times faster than the average human athlete. Our ability to regenerate any lost or damaged body part makes us nearly impossible to kill. It also enables us to live for a long time. Unless we get damaged beyond even our capacity to heal, we live forever. Unlike the werewolves of legend, we're not ordinary human beings transformed into monsters by the curse of the moonlight.

We are what we are every minute of every day. The strength and the power are always with us. When we wish to, we can let our inner beast show. Our eyes turn bright yellow. Our fingernails turn into six-inch claws. And our teeth turn into sharp fangs. As far as body hair goes, it depends on the person in question. Folks who are naturally hirsute can't blame it all on being wolf. It's their own family history. That's why man invented shaving cream. Use it!

There are two major Packs in the Boston area. The first one is the Lupercus Clan. They're an ancient breed that traces its origin all the way to ancient Rome. Made up mostly of Italians and Irishmen. The second Pack is the Lobos Clan, made up mostly of African-Americans and Mexicans. They're fighting over territory and resources. The same reason humans fight their wars. I don't want any part of it. Unfortunately, I was called into a meeting with Rufus, chief recruiter for the Lobos Clan. He asked me to seriously consider joining the Legion, a group of young wolfmen and wolfwomen he was putting together to wage war against the Lupercus Clan.

I stood before Rufus in his office as he sat down and looked at me. Rufus was a handsome man. Tall, long-haired and burly, with light bronze skin and pale gray eyes. He was half Mexican and half African-American. He had heard of him, but it was mostly stories. According to local legend, he was the right-hand man of Guillermo Sanchez, the leader of the Lobos Pack. The name Guillermo Sanchez struck fear in the hearts of wolfmen worldwide. He was once a foot soldier for Don Alessandro Tartaglia, the ruler of the Lupercus Clan.

That was over three hundred years ago. Guillermo betrayed Don Alessandro Tartaglia, and killed his eldest daughter Vera. Apparently, he and Vera were lovers. When Guillermo moved against her father, she stood by her old man. For this betrayal, Guillermo killed her. That was in Italy, ancestral home of the Lupercus Clan. Then, he took off for America, where he gathered many followers and founded his own Clan. Man, this dude had some serious balls!

As Rufus told me the story, I found myself quite turned on. Violence and blood are a turnon for most wolfmen and I was no exception. I hadn't gotten any in a long time. Rufus stopped talking. He could tell I was excited. Our scent changes when we're horny. I smiled, and Rufus smiled back. He got up from his desk, and walked up to me. Before I knew it, we were kissing. I transformed for him and he for me. And we were two wolfmen going at it on the floor. We wrestled on the carpet, trying to gain the edge. Rufus grabbed my eight-inch, uncircumcised cock and began stroking it. He squeezed my balls hard. Then he rubbed his cock against mine. I noticed his cock was slightly bigger and also uncut, like me. I grunted in pleasure as we rubbed our stuff together. It felt mad good.

I took Rufus cock in hand and began sucking on it. He groaned and urged me on as I worked my magic. In no time I had him hard as a rock. I stroked his cock and squeezed his nuts, driving him wild. Once I had him nice and hard, I climbed on top of him. Rufus wrapped his arms around my waist and thrust his cock into my ass. I gasped as his thick cock entered me. Damn, it hurt. Still, I kind of liked it. Rufus began pumping his cock in and out of me. He fucked me hard. I liked it like that. We fucked and sucked like there was no tomorrow. Until Rufus came inside of me. We lay exhausted on the floor, covered up with our juices. I looked at Rufus and grinned. I was most definitely joining his Legion! He's only the most persuasive interviewer I've ever met!