￼Excerpt from Shifter Shelter: Nipped by the Cub, by Tracey DeSanto Copyright © 2016 by Tracey DeSanto
All rights reserved.
I was burning a week’s worth of wine money driving my truck so fast. “Vixen” is my 1976 Ford pickup. She’s big and tough, but hard on gas. That day I didn’t give a damn. The shelter is just off the interstate. It took me no time to take the exit and head south towards where I know my farm-cop sets up his radar. I squirmed on Vixen’s bench seat. My foot hit the gas. Shifting gears aggressively, I slammed it on up into 4th and found that sweet, dreamy cruising speed. I held the knob of the stick firmly, imagining it was a big old cock. In my current state I half- considered just pulling over onto the shoulder, climbing on top if it, and fucking myself silly on Vixen’s shifter. That wouldn’t help, though… That’s not the kind of shifter I was craving. My shifter was long gone.
I chewed my lip. All my senses were jangling. The fabric of my bra felt like a cat’s tongue against my nipples and there was a slippery lake between my legs. I wiped fresh sweat off my upper lip and blinked against the too bright sunlight. Grinning sadly, I shook my head and laughed just a bit crazily.
The needle of the speedometer floated gracefully above 70. Vixen’s massive V8 engine growled as I hurtled past the picturesque farms and patches of green-space on the outskirts of Cedar Ridge. The vibrations throbbed through my core; my clit was sending me an urgent S.O.S., but I couldn’t help her. No time for masturbation. My hands were busy driving truck, ever faster, towards Constable Fife. It was a nice blind spot where speeders couldn’t see him until it was too late.
I managed to get Vixen to 85mph as I flew past him. Still laughing, I gave him the finger and a long hard blast of the horn. He had been right where I knew he would be, with his car hidden behind the bushes on the other side of an overpass. I left him in the dust and then slowed until he showed up in my rearview with his cherries twirling. It didn’t take long.
I continued to drive the speed limit as he caught up to me. I couldn’t help giggling because I knew he was going to be ineffectually angry. Right now he was furious because I wasn’t pulling over even though he was chasing me down with his sirens and lights. Nope. Not stopping. Not here, but soon, thank Christ… I knew just the place.
I geared down and slowed just enough to lay rubber as I took the tight turnoff heading towards the the old quarry. I hadn’t bothered to signal, so poor Jim was caught by surprise and almost rolled his prowler taking the turn too fast. Farm-cop was going to be full of frustrated energy, just the way I like him. I sprayed gravel as we made our way along the wooded service road, finally slowing as I pulled over by the entryway to the old gravel pit. There was not a soul in sight.
He roared up behind me, sirens wailing and lights flashing. Normally a cop would expect you to wait in the car until they came to talk to you. But this was my cop. He was still messing around with the controls of his vehicle as I jumped out of Vixen and strode towards him. I tore my shirt off, popping buttons, and pulled my bra over my head, throwing it aside. My breasts were in motion as I walked hard on my heels to his car window and hammered it with my fist. I had to scream above the cacophony of his sirens.
“Turn that shit off and get out here!”
His face was red. You could see anger and frustration and concern. Then he gazed into my erect nipples, which were eye level to him through the window. That added longing to his complicated mix. He absently reached over and flipped a switch. The sirens fell silent, the lights stopped, and we were abruptly in the remote quiet. Jim grabbed with his free hand at his door handle.
I stepped back and kicked off my boots. By the time he was half-way out of his seat, my jeans and panties were down around my ankles. I launched myself at him, leaving all clothing behind, and pinned him against the open doorway of his cop-car with my body.
I ground my wet cunt against his leg. “So… about that quickie…”
Jim’s frown shifted and he managed a smirk. He writhed against me as I held him, so I locked my legs around his hips and gripped the roof-mount with one hand. My other hand went directly to his big belt and yanked it open. In about one second I had him firmly by the cock. It was a nice cock. Not too big, not too small, and a bit thick… It was circumcised and polite. We’d had a few adventures together over the past year or so.
￼Jim’s cheeks flushed ruddy as he strained against my unexpected ability to pin him. There was a lot farm-cop didn’t know about me, including how strong a concubine can be when she’s caught in the ferals. I let go of the roof and slid down his body, never releasing his penis until I was on my knees in front of him. Wordlessly, I took him into my mouth, hard, fast, and to the hilt. He was already pretty stiff, but by the time I was sucking him he was like a railway spike.
“Uhn. Oh! Jeeze, Diana… Wow!” was the kind of stuff I heard going on above me as I blew him to distraction. That was actually my plan: distraction. I enjoyed fucking Jim, and he was good enough company. He was a thoughtful and considerate lover, always making sure that I came nicely: never going too far. It stood in stark contrast to the fierce physicality of my life in the foolish old days. I always wondered what Jim could do if I provoked him. Today was as good a day as any to find out. That’s why I quietly pilfered the handcuffs from his belt while I sucked him and pulled his pants down to his ankles.
My cop was starting to sway and shudder, which meant he was thinking about coming. Couldn’t have that. I stopped sucking and stood to embrace him, rubbing myself across his uniform. My tits bumped against his brass badge and I felt him poking against my furry crotch, all of which made me feel a tad aggressive. The blue cotton of his police uniform smelled faintly of detergent and sweat. He was so tasty and wholesome; I needed to mess him up a bit. I climbed Constable Fife again and pinned him against the open car door, kissing him deeply. Nipping and licking, I quietly latched one cuff onto the roof mount of the flashers and left it there… dangling for the moment.
I got one foot on the arm-rest of the open car door and the other on the exterior handle of the rear door. Pulling against the roof-lights, I swivelled my cunt up to his face and teased my labia along his nose, enjoying the enthralled expression in his eyes.
“Lick me,” I said.
Jim let out his goodnatured chuckle and shrugged. Then he cupped my ass with both hands and kissed me between the legs. He said something he thought was clever, but it was muffled, so I missed it.
My eyes rolled back as he gently tongued my pussy. This was his zone. He was a thinker. He always had a plan of attack. He knew how to go down. I pushed my muff into his face as he
￼licked along my edges. With a firm grip on each cheek, he moved me where he wanted me and explored my bits. When he landed the tip of his tongue on my lonely clit, I yipped in appreciation and all the hairs on my body stood on end. Flicking his tongue hard on my button elicited a flinching gasp. I was soaking wet, glistening, and eager. The ferals had me so horny I felt dangerous. It was time for cock.
I slid down Jim’s body again but this time, as my cunt reached his midsection, I clamped onto him and slid right onto his eager prick. One push of my pelvis and he was in me. That made me yell at the trees above. Constable Fife groaned as I enveloped him. He tried to embrace me but I wouldn’t let him. I gripped both his wrists and pumped against him, locking my legs behind him. Jim looked at me with ecstatic bewilderment as I made him my toy. He thrust back, leaning his shoulders on the edge of the roof for support. His muscular torso and legs gave him enough power against my straddling attack. That’s when I reached past him and trapped his left wrist with the handcuffs I’d left hanging by his head. He heard the metallic noise ratchet in his ear, then suddenly gaped at his new restraint.
His thrusting stopped, the bastard.
“Hey! What the heck?,” he asked, eyebrows raised high.
“Fuck me.” I bounced on him. It was as much a warning as a demand.
He tried to twist against the handcuffs, but between them and my grip he couldn’t move much. We were nose to nose. His clear blue eyes flickered at me, but I met his stare and he looked away.
“Let me go, Diana. This isn’t funny,” he told me in his stern cop voice, but he had a half- smile stuck on his face. I was surprised by the harsh laugh that came out of me. Now I was feeling horny and provocative. I wriggled on his cock. Then I slapped him. It was a good one and the sound echoed. My hand print rose red on his cheek and his cock grew substantially inside of me. Hmm, interesting.
The man made a strange noise in his throat. He tried to kiss me but I wasn’t in the mood. I climbed off and stood before him. My tits felt hot and my nipples were pointed bullets. I was covered in fuck from my navel to my knees and my cunt was mighty desperate.
￼I abruptly raised his shirt and scratched his six-pack, hard, with my fingernails. He took it like a man, but made that noise again. His prick flexed and twitched. Poor farm-cop looked to be distinctly at a disadvantage.
“You might get the keys…” I said, “…if you fuck me properly.” I scratched him again. This time I caught his nipple. “Make sure I feel it, Jim, or your buddies at the station house will have a fun time cutting you loose tonight.”
I turned to face away from him, bent forward, and held my ankles. Looking back from between my legs I said “Get busy.” He smiled like a kid on Christmas. I arched my back and opened myself enticingly. Reversing onto his exposed dick, I caught the tip and leaned in. Constable Fife moaned and tentatively pushed.
“FUCK me!” It was a needful shriek.
Farm-cop whammed it into me with all his strength. My ass cheeks slapped against him. It almost felt like what I was needing. The man grabbed my hip and pulled me onto him with his free hand, straining against being cuffed to his car. As he gripped my ass I began to yell.
“Damnit, Jim! Don’t be a pussy! Fuck me! Slap My Ass!”
I was bent over like a pretzel, hugging my knees with all my strength and bouncing my cunt against his shaft. He finally slapped me… but not hard enough. The animal that lurks deep within me snarled.
“Fucking DO it, Fucking FUCK me, GIVE it to me!” At least… I think that’s what I was screaming. To his credit, Jim opened his palm and began to really spank me, somehow alternating from side to side with balance and precision.
Thoughtful guy, that Jim. Handy to have around. We grunted and humped in time with the crisp spanking sound. My senses were heightening the way they do, even with my eyes closed. Cool air currents swirled across the hair follicles of my nakedness. In the distance I abstractly heard a hawk kill a mouse. I could smell the sweet, primal wetness of my cunt along with Jim’s fabric softener. My snatch pulled against him and Jim became a grunting machine, screwing me with his nice, clean, athletic energy.
My sanity faltered with each thrust. I was powerless while being in control of him: a delicious contradiction. I closed my eyes and took it. The pain to my well-spanked ass was like icing on a glorious double decker cake of sensations. The erotic stinging spread down into my pussy, whetting my need and heightening my pleasure. I began to lose myself. Any noises I made were no longer remotely in English. So close…. So close…
I inhaled deeply, searching for him. Jesus Fucking Christ. I swear I could scent my wolf, almost out of range. He smelled of blood and rosemary, honey and sex. I reached up between my legs and began to rub myself. Jim was making his funny new noise. Its pitch intensified as he felt my fingernails scratch against his length while he slid into me. It was his noises, and my clit, that triggered the explosion.
I growled and grabbed his prick, holding it tight while my cunt flexed and rippled over it. I clutched him with my hand, Jerking him… using him on myself. Gritting my teeth and howling high, I came like an animal. Just when I thought it was over it surged through my body anew. Farm-cop was vocalizing in novel and interesting ways behind me. I felt his rod and balls jump as he climaxed hard. He hollered, “Yeah, baby!” and held onto my hip with his one free hand, holding me on his cock. Then he ejaculated into my cunt until I was overflowing. In a way, by then, I was elsewhere… I still felt like my wolf was somewhere nearby.
I was bent over double, swaying and swoony, holding on to Jim’s cock much more tightly than necessary. He was no longer hard. I let go, rolling forward onto my back. The grass and leaves felt like a feather bed under my skin. Gazing into the tree canopy and the sky, I could see Jim’s face if I craned back my neck.
“Hey,” he said. “Where’s the key.”
I look up at him, all messy and hot-looking, shackled to his own cop car. His hair was on the wrong side of his head. His shirt hung open, exhibiting too many scratches to explain. Jim’s pants were around his ankles, bunched over his big black boots. Dead centre was his polite cock, sleeping for now. Jim’s not a wolf, but I like him fine. He had never yet been on the receiving end of my feral libido this close to Moontime. He did okay for a human.
“Hey. Thanks for that,” I drawled. “You sure came.”
“Like a geyser,” he said quietly. “Might have had something to do with your death grip on my unit.” His cheeks went red again. I had Jim’s number. He liked the rough stuff but was having a hard time admitting it to himself. He was used to the pretty, compliant, country girls of Cedar Ridge and this was new to him. Poor farm-cop. He’ll figure it out. It made me chuckle.
￼“Yeah. Ha ha… Very funny, Diana. I’ve been off radio and Andy has got to be wondering where I am. What the heck am I supposed to tell them at the station house?”
I was abruptly weary. This guy, he wasn’t mine. Not really. How could he be? He wasn’t a wolf. After Harris that’s all I’m really suited for. Sadness crept in around the edges.
“Jesus, Jim… I don’t know. Tell them it was an emergency?”
He was getting annoyed. “An emergency? This was an emergency?” He looked at his cuffed wrist. “I call bullshit.”
He got serious. “I love a bootie call as much as the next guy. Maybe even one as weird as this… but there might be a real emergency somewhere that I’m not attending to. I’ve broken a crap-ton of regulations in doing this. Fun is fun, but I have to go back to work. I will ask you one more time: Where are my keys.”
Fun is fun, alright, and it had started that way, but didn’t feel like that anymore. Jim was supposed to be my friend with benefits. He was looking at me in a new way, and not a good one. This was why I had a firm relationship avoidance policy. I had been marked by the wolf ten years ago. It makes things crazy. Concubines don’t get to pick.
I began to gather my clothes, but didn’t look at him.
“I never touched your keys, Jim. Where do you keep them?”
The semi-nude man clumsily pulled his pants up, straining against his trapped wrist.
Jamming his hand into his pocket, he withdrew a small key and used it on the cuffs. The click of the metal coincided with his sigh of relief. He rubbed his wrist and shot me an embarrassed glance.
I held my tangled clothes in a bundle against my chest. We stood apart, awkward. Jim was dressed and I was not.
“This was not cool,” he told me, “You can’t mess with me while I’m working.”
He got in his cop car and left. The look he gave me as he drove away was full of confusion. I listened to the buzz of drowsy bees and inhaled the earthy smells of the quarry. Birch leaves rustled as I put my clothes on. My shirt was shot so I just tied it at the bottom. I indulged in a couple of begrudging tears, which pissed me off because I had promised myself I was finished with that shit. The foolish old days were behind me. Why was this happening?
￼Constable Fife had been right, but he also had been wrong. What happened today was probably not cool, but it almost certainly was an emergency.
About the author: I am a happy new author of unusual erotica. My intention is to write stories that are friendly, appealing, and hot for women, men, singles and couples (with a variety of orientations). Some might say that I have a dirty mind. Having spent my life enjoying genre fiction and nerdy pursuits, I intend to visit as many of my favourite realms as I can… and “have sex” in them, so to speak. I want to create sex-positive entertainment for like-minded individuals.
I have written three erotica books since the summer of 2015. The first is “Pecking Order” which takes place on a polygamist farm in the old west. Also my latest book “Shifter” is now available.
I do not live in New England with two cats… but I just might live in Canada with a big, goofy dog.