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and several comfy chairs were set up around a large TV.

Her scent was everywhere, and that made it feel like home so much more than the upper west side apartment his crap was stuffed into. She returned, and he accepted the glass with a grateful nod.

She gestured toward a large couch, and they had a seat. “How about you tell me why you’re on my doorstep on this cold winter night, Agent Dud?” the fact she used his title did not bode well.

He told her . . . everything. All about the fighting in Lincoln and Seattle. About the silverbane claymore that ended up killing two members of Bravo team, and how the wendigos ripped apart a local cop before he could stop them. He told her about getting shot, and how he’d be dead if he was a few seconds slower. He told her how much he loved the texts from her, and their occasional phone calls that didn’t relate to the Dupree case. Most importantly, he instructed her to never, ever, under any circumstances, take a silverbane round for any reason.

“Can I see it?” she asked, placing her glass on the table.

“Sure,” he rolled up his pantleg to show the star-shaped entry wound. Unlike everything else about the injury, that would never totally heal. He didn’t know why, and he didn’t pay attention to the doctor’s explanation.

“Does it hurt?” she traced the wound. A shudder coursed up his spine, and got something else to sit up.

“A little,” he replied.

Instead of standing straight up, she ran herself up his body until she was nearly laying on top of him. Her lips met his, and his arms enveloped her. He held her tight, and inhaled her intoxicating scent. He felt her grin as they passionately kissed. Shifters could go for a long time before needing to breathe, but they had to come up for oxygen eventually.

He could smell her arousal, and there was no question where this was heading.

“I want to see you,” she demanded, already pulling off her sweater.

Vernon quickly started to undo his pants. His cock was already begging to be let out. It popped free, and she stared at it with a wicked grin.

“Not just that,” she trailed her fingernails up his length, which made him inhale sharply. “I want to see you,” she repeated. “I want to see the big bad wolf.”

Being called big and bad while she ran her hand up and down his cock made his moan turn into a flirtatious growl. “You asked for it,” he grinned as he stood up. With a single push, she shoved a table across the room to make space for what came next.

His clothes were already on the ground, so he didn’t shred them as his body suddenly added height and mass. Becky had to take a step back to make room for his werewolf self, but she quickly reclosed the distance. She marveled at the new creature before her. She ran her fingers through his black fur, his broad chest, eight pack abs, and finally back down to his cock.

It was different than a human penis. A tuft of fur stood at the base of ten inches of engorged cock. Two big balls, easily twice the size of a humans, sat on either side of his rod instead of hanging below; but what was the most different was how it flared into a roughly triangular shape at the tip.

“Yes,” Becky exhaled breathlessly as she gave the new and improved rod a tug.

She was a tall woman, a good six feet, but she looked small now. As much as she might want to sit on his cock, it was probably unadvisable. In addition to the different shape, it was easily twice as thick as anything mankind could boast about. Everything got bigger when he shifted, and despite the way she licked her lips, it wasn’t going to fit.

That begged the question; why did she want to see him like this?

Slowly she pushed off him. His claws raked against her bare hips, but didn’t cut her creamy flesh. A whimper escaped his throat as she pulled back, and that made her grin seductively.

“My turn.” One second Becky stood there, and the next she’d shifted.

He’d never seen her shifted form, and it was worth the wait. Slightly rounded ears stood up from the top of her head. Light brown fur covered most of her body with a few black highlights around her face. Her stomach, now a hard six-pack of muscle, was cream-colored. The cream-color extended up to her collarbone, to include a set of perfect tits. Pale, hard nipples stood out on her chest as her long tail swished back and forth behind her. His own tale was much shorter and fluffier.

Becky Wood wasn’t any old feline shifter. She was a mountain lion, and that was so fucking hot. She was nearly as big as he was, and the presence of her overwhelming feminine pheromones made his head swim. With a shove, she pushed him back onto the couch, which groaned in protest. She dove back on top of him to continue the make out session. The couch couldn’t handle it, and collapsed under their powerful foreplay. Neither of them cared.

His elongated snout didn’t make a difference, as they deftly maneuvered their tongues around fangs and teeth like they were made to come together like this. He grabbed a handful of her breasts and a croon came out of her throat that made him disengage and trail kisses down her body.

Speaking of coming together, Vernon’s fingers teased at her pussy; playing with her clit and gently probing inside her. A purr reverberated through her chest, and her paw grabbed a hold of his cock. They enjoyed each other like that for several moments before she pulled back.

“Wait,” she was breathless, and he could

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