Shifters, Dreamers and Otherworldly Creatures, page 1
GRRerotica
Shifters, Dreamers and Otherworldly Creatures: Gay Paranormal Romance
© October 2014 by G.R. Richards
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the publisher.
This is a work of fiction. Names, places, characters and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to any actual persons, living or dead, organizations, events or locales is entirely coincidental. All sexually active characters in this work are 18 years of age or older.
This book is for sale to ADULT AUDIENCES ONLY. It contains substantial sexually explicit scenes and graphic language which may be considered offensive by some readers. Please store your files where they cannot be accessed by minors.
Cover design © 2014 G.R. Richards
Creators of Worlds previously published by Dreamspinner Press. Devil’s Eyes and We The Bus People previously published by Torquere Press and JMS Books. The Magic of Moving Houses and It’s Like A Party In My Closet previously published by Torquere Press.
Warning: the unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work is illegal. Criminal copyright infringement, including infringement without monetary gain, is investigated by the FBI and is punishable by up to 5 years in prison and a fine of $250,000.
Table of Contents
And the Lion Shall Lie with the Lamb
Creators of Worlds
Desert Foxes Live In Concert
Devil’s Eyes
It’s Like A Party In My Closet
The Magic of Moving Houses
We The Bus People
And the Lion Shall Lie with the Lamb
“Where the hell have you been?” Maurice hollered.
Jason had only just stepped into the apartment, and already he was under fire. Big surprise.
Maurice set his feet up on the coffee table, fixated on the TV. He’d already tracked concrete dust from the front door, to the fridge, to his chair in front of the TV. Was it really too much to ask that he take off those stinking construction boots in the foyer?
Yes, of course it was. Everything was too much to ask.
Jason propped his messenger bag at his feet and leaned against the wall to untie his brown leather shoes. “The train was late again.”
There was a commercial blaring, and Maurice finally turned away from the TV, beer in hand. “Train’s late a lot these days, eh?”
“Sure is.” Something metaphysical stuck in Jason’s esophagus, and he couldn’t for the life of him swallow past it. Why was his stomach tying itself in knots when he knew he was telling the truth?
Why? Because Jason knew the truth was whatever Maurice deemed it to be. If Maurice chose to believe Jason was lying and screwing around or whatever, that’s what the truth would be.
Maurice stopped staring, thank god, and turned his attention back to the TV. “You didn’t make dinner.”
Didn’t make dinner? Jason’s mind screamed. I just walked through the fucking door! How long have you been home? Why can’t you make your own goddamn dinner for once?
Swallowing through the sensation of blazing wool padding his throat, Jason simply said, “I’ll start it now.”
He’d love to get out of this monkey suit he’d sweated through waiting for the damn train, but that would have to wait. If Maurice wanted dinner now, so Jason would make dinner now.
“And none of that fruity tofu shit,” Maurice called from his chair. The last word, shit, modified into a prolonged belch, and Jason cringed.
First of all, when have I ever made tofu for dinner? Okay, one time I put it in the Pad Thai, but that had chicken and shrimp in it too. And, more importantly, where do you get off calling anything ‘fruity’? You’re gay! You’re living with me and sleeping with me and loving me… or, at least, you used to love me. Now… now I’m not so sure.
“Got it.” Jason masked the depth of his despair with a chipper tone. “No tofu.”
He cooked burgers on the indoor grill without setting off the smoke alarm, but when he laid everything out on the table, Maurice looked up and said, “We just had burgers yesterday!”
That was two weeks ago, asshole!
Jason didn’t say a word. He could barely eat his dinner for the ever-present lump in his throat. It was a relief to get up and wash the dishes. Even the damn TV was more comforting than that voice he’d come to loathe.
“Suck my cock,” Maurice called out while Jason’s hands were still bathing in soapy dishwater. “I gotta go to bed soon.”
Oh, you mean you’re actually going to sleep in our bed instead of passing out in front of a blaring television like you do every other night?
Jason sighed. “Okay.”
Like you can even get hard after, what, six beers?
He tried not to keep count. His mind was overactive enough as it was. He ducked between Maurice’s legs, keeping his head low enough that he wouldn’t be blocking the man’s view of the television. Hell to pay if he did.
When Maurice unzipped his cement-coated jeans, Jason was pretty surprised by the sight of his cock. It was hard already, and seemed to grow taller as it breathed in the fresh air beyond his sweat-soaked jockeys. Surging up like a thick sapling, it sought Jason’s mouth the way a plant seeks the sun. But this thing, god, so veiny, already pink bordering on red, the tip purplish and glistening with precum. Jason couldn’t deny the instant arousal it spurred.
“Suck it.”
Maurice didn’t even take his eyes off the TV.
Wrapping a fist around the shaft, Jason gazed at Maurice’s stunning cock. He couldn’t deny how much he wanted to take it in his mouth. That bugged him. It really did. Even as he wrapped his mouth around that gleaming cockhead, letting his tongue explore the ridge of engorged flesh, the voice at the back of his head was just berating him.
How can I give this man pleasure when he brings me nothing but pain? Why am I doing this? Why am I doing it?
God, the taste of that fat cock sent Jason up in a cyclone of lust. His belly was burning, tight with arousal. The fire at the core of him urged deeper lunges, harder sucks. Maurice smelled like dry sweat and concrete with a hint of ass. Some guys might find that assortment of aromas repellent, but not Jason. He ate it up. He pumped Maurice’s shaft with his fist, feeling that silken outer flesh moving against the hardness like a steel rod inside.
Flattening his tongue against the underside of Maurice’s mushroom tip, Jason eased his head up and down, every pass urging his man on with wet friction. He looked up, fully expecting Maurice to be gazing back down at the wild show he was performing down here.
Nope.
Maurice was asleep with his bearded cheek against his shoulder, miraculously still gripping a brown bottle with one hand.
Jason’s heart plunged into his stomach. It didn’t sit well with the burgers, that was for damn sure.
What the hell is wrong with you? You ask me to suck your dick, I get down between your legs and give you a killer blowjob, and you can’t even manage to stay alert long enough to come? You bastard! I hate you, you goddamn fucking asshole! Hear me? I can’t stand another day of this shit.
Swallowing hard, Jason rose in silence, allowing Maurice’s cock to soften between those dirty denim thighs. He tried to extract the beer bottle from Maurice’s hand, but it was locked in place. Turning off the TV and the lights, Jason headed for bed alone, as usual. It was still early, but what was the point of staying up? He felt so empty inside there wasn’t a single thing in life that appealed to him. Sure, he needed a shower and his hair could definitely do with a shampoo, but…why?
What was the point in doing anything?
Stripping naked, he fell into bed, mind racing and stomach unsettled. Just when he thought he’d never get to sleep, Jason realized he wasn’t even in the bedroom anymore. Beneath his body, there was deep green moss growing, caressing his skin, not damp, but moist enough to feel cool and welcoming.
Something shrieked, a bizarre screeching sound like when you inadvertently step on a cat’s tail, and Jason bolted upright. It seemed dark here, at first, but his eyes soon adjusted. That’s when he got a glimpse of something red flickering in the dawning light. Red and black, now, lacquered hard. The light bounced blue off the emerging pattern of black dots on a dome of red. It looked like…no, it couldn’t be.
And then it turned and proved to Jason, beyond a shadow of a doubt that, yes indeed, it was! The monstrous creature might have passed for innocuous or even cute had it not been for the size of its body and, more frighteningly, its big black insect head. Its legs were like pointy sticks when it pointed a few of them at Jason. “Oh, it’s only you.”
Jason inched back along his moss bed, telling himself there was no excuse for being afraid of a ladybug. Still, most ladybugs weren’t the size of a sweat lodge.
“Where am I?” Jason asked. It was still dark enough that he couldn’t make out what lay beyond the thick forest, and the ladybug blocked his view of the route straight ahead.
“You mean you don’t know, after all this time?” The bug shook its monstrous head like it was disappointed. “When will you ever learn?”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about. Who are you?” This was nuts!
In rather a low voice for a ladybug, it said, “Every night it’s the same thing.”
Before Jason could ask anything further, the creature shifted to the right, shrinking to the size of a dog and lifting into the air. Except, of course, most dogs Jason knew couldn’t fly. The gusts of wind coming off that shiny insect’s polka-dot wings tousled Jason’s hair. It wasn’t quite so frightening at this size. Jason rose to follow as it took off down a wooded path.
As Jason stepped across the groundcover of velvety violets, he felt a twinge in both his side and his heart. He knew this feeling, like he was floating in a warm ocean and sinking to its seaweed-laden depths simultaneously. It was déjà-vu. Unmistakable.
“Have I been here before?” Jason asked the ladybug, whose size seemed in constant flux now.
When they arrived at a clearing, the insect said, “You tell me.”
Jason stepped up on the raised tree root before him and gazed across the savannah. There seemed to be every type of earthscape represented in this place, from desert to plains to rain forest, and all so close you could walk from one to the next. The memory of this place was buried just deep enough that he couldn’t quite access it, but he knew it was there, and that knowing made him feel a little queasy.
All across the plains, animals roamed free. Giraffes the size of dinosaurs craned their necks up, munching on leafy foliage that grew back the moment it had been devoured. As he wandered through warm lush grasses, wolf cubs wrestled with goat kids as a kangaroo nanny watched them play. Jason couldn’t help but smile as he observed those fuzzy little cubs latching on to a goat kid’s tail, slipping onto their backs, and writhing side to side with the enthusiasm that only a baby animal could enjoy.
The ladybug continued on and, as though they were attached by a silver thread, Jason followed. He passed by cats walking tall on two legs and dressed in rumba skirts. They beckoned him to dance and when he shirked the offer, feeling sheepish and shy, they approached a group of stags, who eagerly set down their glasses of scotch to join the cat women on the dance floor.
And then, in the rippling mirage sheen of a distant mound, Jason spotted the figure that brought all the memories streaming back to consciousness.
“Tavaris!” Jason shouted, taking off in a run. “Tavaris, I’m here! It’s me!”
The lion stood proudly on four paws as Jason ran like a child, heart pounding hard, pumping warm adoration through his veins.
“So it is!” The wise lion chuckled deeply. His rich vibrato resonated through Jason’s body as he fell to his knees, wrapping his arms around Tavaris’s shimmering golden mane. The sun was just peeking over the horizon, and its warm rays brought out the deep copper and auburn tones of Tavaris’s fur. Jason shoved his whole face against his lion’s mane, squeezing the way a child hugs a favorite plush toy, breathing deep of Tavaris’s earthy scent.
It felt so good to be close to this beautiful beast. With Tavaris, Jason knew he was protected, he was safe. When his lion nuzzled that big nose against Jason’s face, he was forced back a step and treated to an affectionate lick with a big, broad tongue. The sensation made him laugh, tingling like peppermint before drying in the warm morning air.
“Why do I always forget about this place when I’m not in it?” Jason asked, watching in awe as Tavaris stood, stretching out his front paws until they became hands, arms, shoulders. Tavaris had a beautiful stomach, maintaining much of its gleaming fur, but his legs were nearly hairless, muscular, skin the color of pumpkin pie.
“You forget,” Tavaris replied, “because you’ve never been able to choose.”
Choose what? But as soon as the question crossed Jason’s mind, it was already forgotten. As he gazed at the transformation in his lion-man’s face, he could think of nothing else. That broad, wide nose contracted into something smaller and more human-like above the feline whiskers of his upper lip. His forehead was broad, his hair silky and wild, mimicking the shimmering mane he’d possessed in full lion form.
“My lion.” Jason sighed, gazing up at him from the grassy mat outside Tavaris’s cave.
With an amber glint in his giving eyes, Tavaris replied, “My lamb.”
Jason felt a little silly, knowing he must seem like a teenager swooning over his first puppy love. What did it matter? Tavaris would take care of him whether he played the lion or the lamb or anything in between. Many of the creatures here were exactly that, something in between, blurring distinctions, never one animal but many.
“God, you look incredible.” Being entirely naked, Jason couldn’t conceal his arousal.
Neither could Tavaris. It surged forth from the glossy fur between his thighs. His pubic pelt was very lightly colored, making his erect cock look like an oak tree in a wheat field. Jason started to crawl to that beckoning cock on all fours, but every time he closed in on it, Tavaris took one step back.
“How can you tease me like this?” Jason moaned, his gaze fixed on that prize, but loving every moment of suspense.
“Every second we are not joined reminds us of the joys we experience when we are together.” Tavaris took another step back. “And that moment of first union feels so much fresher after the wait.”
Jason groaned as he remembered those first moments and anticipated the next. “Please,” he begged, on his knees, crawling for that which he craved. “Let me have it.”
“It?” Tavaris grinned.
The lion was wisdom incarnate as far as Jason was concerned, but he had a sense of humor as well. Jason never laughed so much as he did in this place.
Inching forward, Jason said, “Your cock,” letting those hard k sounds pop at the back of his throat. He loved the taste of that word. “I want to suck your cock.”
“Ahhh, now I understand.” But Tavaris kept backing up, all the way to the mouth of his cave. When his shoulder met that sandy rock, he stopped and surrendered in his own way. Their existence together never felt as though one had power over the other, not in any overarching sense. Not the way it was with Maurice, where the man’s dominance was palpable, thick, like a bad odor that seemed always to be stuck in Jason’s throat.
“I want this.” Jason watched Tavaris’s cock bob and pulse, as though it were nodding in agreement. “I want you.”
“Well, then?” Tavaris challenged. “What are you waiting for? Come and get it.”
Jason felt like a lion himself when he pounced at that stunning erection. He couldn’t contain himself. He didn’t want to. Grabbing hold of Tavaris’s shaft, he wrapped it in his fist, stroking that unrelenting flesh, making it grow yet harder, larger, so thick Jason wondered if he could really get it inside his mouth.
But of course he could. Tavaris roared when Jason enveloped that delectable cockhead with his mouth. A swift twinge of guilt ran through him when he remembered doing exactly this to unappreciative Maurice not long ago. He’d done it for himself, craving the taste of cock, but now he felt like he’d betrayed Tavaris, who was always so patient and appreciative. Jason’s only consolation was that, in his waking hours, he never remembered this place. When he was with that bastard he’d once loved, he never remembered Tavaris.
Of course, with his lion’s downy pelvis lunging toward his face, he could hardly forget. Every time that rock-solid shaft infiltrated his mouth, the lissom pelt of Tavaris’s belly brushed his nose and his cheeks. It was a sweet reminder of the half-man’s animal nature.
Jason dove at the cock plunging deep in his throat, squeezing the shaft, moaning. His saliva mingled with Tavaris’s precum, forming a frothy mixture when it met the motion of his hand, rampant with lust. And love. Jason sensed the frenzy rising up in him, obliterating his ability to think as he swallowed that huge shaft.
It wasn’t just the taste of masculine pleasure that turned Jason on, or even the dewy white hairs sticking to his wet lips and fingers. What aroused Jason most was the combination of these factors: the speed of their joint locomotion, the grunting and moaning that vibrated from Tavaris’s hard body through Jason’s very bones, the longing and the ever-present desire.
“I need you to fuck me,” Jason pleaded, leaning away from that surging cock and gazing up into Tavaris’s adoring eyes. He could feel the morning sun against his back, and see it glinting like amber in his lion-man’s eyes. “I need it. Pleeeeease!”
