This is a short work of erotic fiction containing furry, or anthropomorphic, characters, which are animals that either demonstrate human intelligence or walk on two legs, for the purposes of these tales. It is a thriving and growing fandom in which creators are prevalent in art and writing especially.
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Werewolf's Lust
Silver snarled as he powered through the forest, one hind paw after the other striking the ground. Of course, as a civilised dragon in modern society, he did not actually have to hunt down his food as he did, but even taking after his prey of deer and elk with a rifle would have, perhaps, been seen as more 'normal' than what he was doing. But just what more tools did he actually need for himself as he forced his way through the thick brush, chasing down a bounding doe who could not keep going forever -- not with that injured hind leg. He'd smelled her blood from so far away and his stalk of her would have been successful if not for the badger that he'd disturbed, the snarling, growling flurry of fur more than enough to send her scarpering. And yet Silver simply did not see the point in using anthro-made tools to take down a kill when he already had the jaw full of sharp teeth to do the job for him.
It would not be as fun, that much was sure. And where was the harm in taking just a little wicked pleasure for himself from time to time too?
Yet the thrill of the hunt could not always be held back, heart driving on and on for the ultimate pleasure of sinking his teeth into the hot, living flesh of a warm kill. There was nothing like taking one's sustenance in the most carnal of fashions, after all, and the deer would feed him for weeks. She'd only be picked off by wild animals otherwise but, in the moment, the dragon with a mane of black hair flying back from his face and neck in the moonlight felt himself, well and truly, to be the very epitome of an untameable creature, perhaps even as much so as the dragons of olden times.
All of that changed in a heartbeat, the shadowy shape of the doe ahead of him leaping and bounding and then cut across by a larger shape altogether. He cursed (most unlike him) and skidded to a halt, jaw hanging open not truly in aggression but surprise, striving solely to avoid crashing into the body that had inexplicably planted itself in his way. They must have been just as shocked to find him there as the being let out a strangled howl, too large to get out of his way, and they toppled in a mess and bundle of fur and scales and limbs, elbows and knees slamming into the worst of places.
But the last thing that he expected to see, rolling to his hind paws with a thrash of his tail, was a werewolf with amber eyes, lowering her muzzle defiantly as she set her shoulders to him. Of course, someone else may have mistaken her for just an anthro wolf but there was little he could have done or said to deny the who of just what she was, hunkering down with muscle, the set of her body lower than an anthro who may have been more easily spotted outside Pawbucks with a latte clutched in a far more delicate paw.
No... He swallowed hard, trying to push away the curling rise of heat in his belly, looking her over, the hints of russet cutting through her dark brown fur, the prick of her ears. She was no anthro wolf and the muscle on her body made his heart turn over, heat creeping down his neck as much as Silver willed it away. Even then, he should have known that he was lost to the wills of a werewolf but the fact that she was naked was, perhaps, more of a distraction than a confident, young dragon like him should have been so keen to admit.
He tried not to look but it was hard not to, her nipples perking through her thick fur as she lifted her head proudly, an eyebrow raised as if in abject challenge. The dragon sweated.
