“IT just. . . I don't want it to be just another fling for you,"

Chris said, finding it very hard to breathe.

“I know one man or woman will never be enough for you. Maybe I'm a bit of . . . what do they call ‘em? Hopeless romantics? But I want to at least have it mean somethin' . . . to you."

Anya caressed the big man's face.

“Maybe in all the watching you've been doing recently, you missed a few things. One, every time I've been with one of the Strays, it's meant something to me. Second, you...

Mister Chris . . . are special. You're a good man, even among all these other good men and women." She rubbed her hips in a circle around his lap, and then leaned in to whisper, “But right now, I want you to be a very... very . . . bad man."

A minute later, the two of them were in the now-vacant lost and found room with Chris's pants down around his ankles, his cock sliding up her path to paradise. Anya hadn't gotten much of a chance to see Chris's equipment, but she could sure as hell feel it. It didn't seem particularly long . . . she would guess a little over six inches . . . but God was it thick! It felt even thicker than Tarloh's substantial staff, and that was just how Anya liked it. Her body strained to contain him as he pressed her back against the tiled wall of the room. She hooked her legs around his thick waist and wrapped her arms around his neck, biting her bottom lip as she was taken by this powerful man.

Chris had actually wanted to woo Anya for a while, but when a woman who looks like that says she wants you, then you just have to go for it. And even in the room's dim light, Anya looked like an angel a very naughty angel. She clung to him like a second skin, and her pussy enveloped his meat like it was designed for him.

"Harder!" Anya grunted.

"Show me what kind of stud you really are."

She was squeezing her vaginal muscles with all her might. Chris had gotten to her. He not only lusted after her . . . she was used to that . . . but he also actually respected her. It was nice to hear that, and she was going to repay his devotion in one of the only ways she knew how. His balls were slamming into her and she pushed off the wall with her shoulders, impaling herself even further onto his cock. She drug her hands down her hairy chest, leaving small white marks on his skin with her nails. She felt his powerful hands on her waist, bringing her body down onto him time and time again.

“Yer one . . . amazin’ . . . woman, Chris said, emphasizing each word with a particularly hard thrust.

These harder thrusts seemed to be nailing something very sensitive and wholly delightful within Anya's body.

"Oh, do that again!"

Chris would give Anya anything she wanted, so he lunged his hips and buried his dick deep inside her, waiting a moment and then did it again. He saw Anya's face glazing over and a joyous smiling creeping over her face. He watched as her breathing increased in intensity and sweat glistened off her brow. Then her pussy clenched his member even more tightly as her body succumbed to a deep, soul-cleansing climax.

And when she relaxed a little, Chris started in on Anya again.

Anya's brain was slightly numb, but she was still impressed by Chris's staying power. Most guys would have blown their load already.

“Are you close?" she asked, a stray hair fluttering in front of her eyes before become plastered against her forehead.

“My momma always told me that patience was a virtue," Chris said, setting up a steady pace again.

"You've got good genes," Anya said, then joked, “They look good around your ankles."

“Well, we could stop"

"NO!" Anya shouted, then blushed. As Chris's cock continued spreading her inner labia, she realized she'd been had. Chris had returned to his directed thrusting, and Anya slid her hand down her body to where they joined, rubbing her own clit in small circles as she eased herself towards a second release. She looked at his massive chest, enjoying how his pectoral muscles flexed as his arms gripped her waist.

Chris didn't think he'd ever met anyone as hot as Anya. Back before he had been turned into a lycanthrope while hunting in central Texas with his cousins, he never would have even bothered speaking to a woman like this. He had survived an attack by a deranged lycanthrope, but his cousins had been killed. And he had discovered that there wasn't anything quite like a near-death experience to make you appreciate life, and very little could make you feel as alive as being with a beautiful, passionate woman.

"You're thinking too much," Anya murmured.