Jungle Love

Lionel and Veronica had been dating for almost four months and he was starting to think that maybe she was the one. He had liked many girls in his twenty-three years, loved a few, but never like this. Veronica was perfect. Oh, sure, he could have found a thinner girl, or a prettier one, or one with bigger tits, but they would not have begun to compare to Veronica. She was a blend of almost ideal physical features and a sharp, witty and sometimes dark mind. She was exactly what he had been looking for all his life.

It was a late, dark winter night, but they were cozy and warm, curled up together in front of a roaring fire while a thick blanket of snow fell soundlessly outside their cabin. It was only a few miles outside of town, but you would think it was deep in the wilderness for all the visitors they got. That suited Lionel just fine. He was sort of a solitary guy anyway, and he loved having Veronica all to himself.

"Hey, sweety," he asked suddenly. "You ever think about getting married?" He had been thinking about it for a week straight.

"Sure, I suppose everyone does," she answered. Then surprise dawned on her face. "Oh, you mean to you?" He nodded. "Yes. Are you asking me?" He gave her his trademark lopsided grin.

"I was thinking about it. I wanted to know what you thought first." She took his face in her hands and kissed him soundly on the mouth.

"Always so considerate. I think it sounds great. But maybe we should take it slow. Get to know each other better." Lionel felt his smile twitch toward a frown, but he pulled it back into place.

"I know I love you. Isn't that enough?" She kissed him again.

"Of course, but don't you want to know my secrets?" He almost laughed.

"What secrets could you possibly have?"

"Did you know, when I was in junior high, I stole my step-brother's car and wrecked it into a tree?"

"Well, no, but it doesn't matter. I love you anyway." Now she laughed.

"I never meant for you not to. I just want you to know everything about me and I want to know everything about you." He smiled, but it felt so fake. Would she still love him if she knew? He was afraid not. "So, tell me a secret. Tell me something you did as a kid that you never told anyone about."

"Well," he started, thinking. "When I was eleven I threw a rock through the window of my English teacher's house."

"So? Lots of kids do that."

"The rock broke not only the window, but also a priceless Ming vase."

"Oh. OK, my turn. Ask me something." He smiled deviously.

"What is your darkest, most perverse sexual fantasy?" Either she would refuse to answer, ending her little game, or it would lead to a bout of vigorous love-making, accomplishing the same thing. He watched her face flush bright red.

"You are such a dirty boy," she said. "I've never told anyone that, I never intended to tell anyone that, but if we are to be married, I suppose you should know." She lowered her voice, as if afraid of being overheard. "I once read an erotic story about a woman who let her cat lick her, and ever since, I've wondered what it would be like." He was staring at her in wonder and disbelief and she misread his expression. "Don't get me wrong, Lionel, I love the way you touch me, but I've always dreamed of feeling that little sandpaper tongue stroking me to orgasm--" she stopped, for his expression hadn't changed. "Oh, I've appalled you, haven't I?" She started to turn away, but he grabbed her and pulled her into his arms.

"You are the one," he said, burying his face in her hair. "I always hoped--" He pulled back and looked solemnly at her. "I have to tell you something. My secret. The one I expected to take to my grave." She laughed weakly, her eyes confused.

"It can't be worse than mine."

"Oh, it is. It's the kind of secret that gets people killed, so you have to promise me that you will never tell anyone, ever." He was being a bit dramatic, but this was serious.

"Lionel, you're scaring me," she said, her voice a mere whisper.

"Don't be scared, I would never hurt you. You know that, right?" Now he could see some of her old confidence back, for she did know.

"Of course, and whatever it is, I can accept it and I will never tell anyone. Promise." He gave her an excited peck on the cheek, then jumped up and stepped back.

"OK, here goes," he said. Suddenly, he was gone and a lanky black and white patched cat stood in his place. The cat looked at her for a moment, then Lionel reappeared in its place. "So, what do you think?" She stared at him, her mouth agape, and he waited until words came to her.

"You're a--a cat?" she asked.

"Sort of," he answered, suddenly embarrassed. "Sometimes."

"You're one of those Were, aren't you? A Werecat."

"Sort of," he said again. "Sometimes. Do you hate me now?" He was afraid she did, but she got to her feet and leaped into his arms.

"Of course not. I'm just in shock. I've never met a Were before. I have so many questions."

"Ask away," he said. "I've never been able to talk about it before. I like this."

"Where do your clothes go?"

"They become part of me, I think. I can even change the way they look," Suddenly, his baggy jeans and Batman T-shirt changed into an elegant tuxedo. "but the go back if I take them off." He let the tux fade away.

"How is that possible?" He shrugged and grinned.

"You got me. Magic, I guess."

"How did you get this way? Were you born a Were? Were you Bitten?"

"Now, that is a long story, and I'm sure we have better things to do right now. I'll tell you later."

"What do we have to do now?" she asked.

"How about fulfilling a little fantasy?" It took her a second to realize what he meant.

"Oh, no, I couldn't! That's--that's bestiality. Isn't that illegal?" He laughed merrily and swept her off her feet.

"Only if it's with a real beast. I am a man, regardless of what form I assume." She started to grin wickedly.

"What would my mother say!?" she chuckled, but he could see she was willing. Quickly, she stripped off her clothes, her tits taut and bouncy, her bush neatly clipped. "How should we do this?" she asked, trembling with excitement.

"Here," He spread a blanket on the floor. "Lie down and open wide. I'll do the rest." She lay on her back and spread her legs like a whore, her pussy gasping open and shiny with her juices. Boy, was she ready for this. Lionel changed form to the little black and white cat, licking his lips as he padded over to her. She let out a squeal before he even touched her, and when his raspy little cat tongue flicked into her hole and then up over her clit, she shuddered and moaned.

Encouraged, Lionel began lapping at her like he was lapping milk, sometimes working at her hole, sometimes at her clit, moving back and forth, trying to give her all the pleasure he could, but he tongue was too small. She was groaning and panting, but he was sure he could do better. Without missing a beat, he changed to a bobcat, his tongue filling her slit with every stroke. She noticed his change with a cry of ecstasy, humping her hips at him a bit.

I know I can do better, he thought, changing again, this time to the biggest cat he could think of; a Siberian tiger. She screamed in orgasm as his rough tongue worked into her hole and on her clit, lapping up her cum like cream. He kept at it until she groaned and moaned and screamed her way through three orgasms, then he sat back and licked his lips. He could do that again any time. He glanced down at the bright red tip of his dick, his meat throbbing as it poked out of his shaft. Wasn't there something about tigers that he had forgotten? Veronica had rolled over and was trying to get up, her muscles loose after her orgasms, using the coffee table to get to her knees.

Suddenly, the sight of her on her knees, bent over the table with her ass sticking out registered with the tiger part of him and remembered what he had forgotten. Tigers had the fiercest sex drives of all the big cats. The body walked over to her and placed his huge paws on the coffee table on either side of her. Lionel tried to resist, but that was danger with this form. It tended to have a mind of its own.

"Lionel, what are you doing?" she asked. He didn't answer, but she figured it out soon enough. "Oh, I don't think I'm ready for that quite yet." She tried to push him off, but he now weighed five time as much as she did. She tried to climb out from under him, but he was pressing her against the coffee table. Luckily, there was a folded blanket under her, which would keep her from bruising. His big, red dick slithered out of its sheath and poked at the entrance to her pussy. She drew her breath in sharp as the pointed head nudged into her hole.

Lionel could only sit back and hang on for the ride as his body found what it had been looking for. With a swift thrust, the tiger dick buried itself into Veronica's pussy, filling her tight little box and then enlarging its new territory. She whimpered, but there was a note of amazement at the end of it. He thrust and thrust again, squatting over her little human body and nearly smothering her in his fur. Lionel was appalled at what was happening, but damn, it felt great! She was so tight, squeezing his dick like milking a cow and he thrust deeper and harder, feeling his cock brush the far wall of her vagina.

She was moaning now, all her reservations gone as his huge cock touched her in places so dark she hadn't even known they were there, let alone how good it felt to have them stroked. She reached her climax after only a minute of his urgent, frantic rhythm, cuming again and again and he jabbed her faster, reaching the point of his own release. When he came, buckets of thick, hot tiger cum filled her pussy and squirted out around his cock as it throbbed, pumping her full.

His urge fulfilled, the body climbed off of Veronica and Lionel was in control again. She lay, gasping, draped over the coffee table while tiger cum oozed from her gaping hole and dribbled down her legs, pooling on the carpet.

"Oh, God, Ronnie, are you all right? I am so sorry." She looked up at him, her face flushed, sweaty and striped with tiger hair.

"Sorry? For what? That was the best time I've ever had." Lionel just stared lovingly at her and realized that she really was the one. Later, after they had cleaned up a bit, they lay on a blanket in front of the fire, watching the firelight play on each other's naked bodies. "Lionel?" Veronica asked lazily. "When I asked you if you were a Werecat, you said sort of, sometimes. What did you mean?" He half-grinned and played with her hair.

"I'm a very special Were, it seems. I'm not really any one specific species. I'm more like a Were-mammal than anything else." She looked up into his eyes, a greedy look on her face.

"You mean you can become any mammal?" He nodded and she was silent a moment, thinking. Then she said, rather casually; "I hope spring comes early this year. I don't think a horse could fit in our bedroom."