A low animal moan escaped her lips. She doubled up, trying to squeeze out the pain that came in waves in the pit of her stomach. Her long black hair cascaded onto her knees. She stood breathing hard like a racehorse that had run its race, nostrils flaring, black eyes opening wide with pain and then narrowing. Obsessively raking her lower lip with her regular white teeth. Oh God.

Mum had been right, she was genetically predisposed to horrible, exceptional period pain. Why was Mum trekking through the Thai jungle now? She was needed here to support her daughter.

The routine health check at work five weeks ago had been a suprise...

“Why are you taking this exceptional heavy dose of high concentration contraceptives, it's more than four times the normal level and will seriously damage your health in the long term,” asked the doctor.

“My mother made me do it when I was sixteen.”

“You've been doing this for seven years? Shocking, what on earth was your mother thinking?”

“She said that as a family we're prone to very bad periods and it's a condition that I should let develop as it's permanent.”

She was aware it sounded lame but she couldn't forget the intensity, the near terror in her mother's face as she ordered her.

“Take these forever or see your life ruined.”

Last month, her first real period ever, had been bad. But she had gone to bed for most of a day, taken some painkillers and wrapped herself around a hot water bottle.

But there had been something else. Something she didn't want to think about. Sex, lust, animal lust. She had eaten steak tartare. Naked. With her hands. And put her hands down there. Her clit had throbbed, it felt huge. She had masturbated obsessively for a couple of hours, stuck a dildo in her cunt, then in her arse. She'd never done that before. But it was one off, 4 weeks ago, at the full moon as she had joked to herself. It wouldn't happen again.

Now that feeling was back with the pain. Lust. Predatory. She needed somebody and she was going to use him for her own satisfaction. She shuddered, had her mother been trying to say she was a werewolf? That the moon would bring on this lust for raw meat, for human flesh, for blood, to devour the sex of another?

Of course it was just a morbid fantasy brought on by a change of medication. She could deal with it. She could go and join her friends in the pub and have a good laugh. A couple of painkillers and she'd be fine. She went to the bathroom, movement was good, made her feel better. She stood in front of the mirror. Long black hair, oval face, olive complexion, dark eyes stared at her.

“Let's get some lippy and mascara on and get out,” she thought.

Her breasts felt heavy and swollen in her tight black sweater, the tight pvc trousers stretched tight across her hips, crease parting her arse cheeks, as the stiletto boots seemed to stretch her legs. Her crotch was burning, felt even tighter then ever, painfully tight over her cunt. Her clit ached to be stroked and rubbed and licked and sucked. She needed to put her hand down there and squeeze, rub. Take the painkillers and go, go, go. Walking out of the door she felt she was a predator, stalking its prey on her stilettos.

Nothing like some good red wine to put all that behind you. The pain wasn't so bad now although it was still coming in waves. It was good to see her friends but most had drifted home. This evening her senses felt heightened, colours and lights in the pub were unnaturally bright, sounds at once sharp but also out of key. It was as if a cartoonist had highlighted everything making it clearer but somehow less real. It felt hot and sweaty, her skin was clammy and clothes were sticking to her. She was flirting with Pete the barman as usual. He was nice lad, too nice really, but good looking.

“So what's up with you? You're looking great tonight? But it's like you're not here? You're not really listening – you waiting for someone?”

“I'm waiting for you at home, I'm going now,” she challenged him. What! Had she said that? “You know where I live.”

OMG. She shouldered her way quickly through the crowd. Cooler outside, she gulped in great lungfuls of air. Madness. He wouldn't come. He would realise it was just a joke. She would go back in and tell him.

No she wouldn't, she would go home and go to bed, lock the door and not answer it.

“Come in Pete, chuck your coat there.” She handed him a large whisky and looked into his eyes. He took a gulp and she kissed him, sucking the whisky out of his mouth,letting it dribble down her chin.

“Take my sweater off.”

This time the whisky dribbled onto her breasts soaking into her lacy bra. She pushed his face into her soft, pillowy breasts. Sucking hungrily he pulled her bra down. Her brown nipples stood erect. Oh so good, suck harder. Another wave of pain, she half bent to control it, bringing her chin down on the back of his head. Her hands scrabbled with his hair, red nails catching in the brown curls. She was in command. Their bodies intertwined, his thigh rammed against her crutch, she rubbed herself slowly sensuously up and down. They kissed and his hand squeezed her breasts.

Eye to eye, a contact that couldn't be broken. She scrabbled at the buckle of his jeans, a hand inside the boxer shorts to free a thick, fast growing cock. She didn't look at it, she could feel it fat and swelling in her hand. Eye to eye, she pushed him back against the door frame, humping her slick black leggings against his naked body. His strong hands slid up her stomach, mauling her breasts, pinching her nipples. Her crotch was on fire, so swollen that it hurt. She stepped back, slipped the button at the waist, loosened the zip.

“They're tight, on your knees and take them off.”

Wordlessly he complied. On his knees. As she said, too tight for knickers. As the tight leggings reached her calves she grabbed his hair and stuffed his face into her crutch. Her hips bucked forward automatically.

What? A surprise that somehow wasn't a surprise, a surprise that made sense. A huge nearly erect cock bobbed out, slapping his face. Too late to wonder how, it had to be satisfied. She forced it into his mouth, 8, 9 inches who cared, it seemed natural now. She grabbed his hair again, pulled him upright and kissed him full on the mouth, he looked stunned.

“You're mine and I'm going to use you as I like,” she hissed.

He nodded dumbly, as she took both of their cocks in her hand and massaged them. Hers was satisfyingly larger. She turned her back to him and bent over to finish removing the leggings, presenting her soft, round arse cheeks.

“Feel it, put your fingers in my arsehole. Harder! Another finger! Push!”

She stood up, reached behind and grabbed his cock and walked into the kitchen dragging him behind. She grabbed the large bottle of sunflower oil.

“Look at me me. Wank,” She ordered hoarsely. She poured oil over her heavy breasts and rubbed it in, glistening as she rubbed it all over her cock. He obeyed as if he had no mind of his own. He rubbed his cock and stared in wonder at her.

“Kiss me.”

She pulled him to her. Their slick bodies embraced as they writhed against each other. She massaged oil down his back, into his arse, into his arsehole, one finger, then two. He moaned. Quickly she span him round and pushed him over the work surface, with one hand she split his arse and with the other positioned her large cock and shoved it into his puckered hole. His tight little hole didn't give.

“Stop, stop. Slow down,” he said hoarsely.

She pulled back, she massaged his hole with oil, slipped a finger in. In and out slow, then quicker. Then another finger. He lifted up and pushed back against her, her swollen nipples flattening against him. She gripped his arsehole with two fingers as turned his head and kissed her with a sideways thrust of his head.

“Now do it,” he said, “Do it slowly.”

She pushed him back down and parted his buttocks again. The swollen end of her cock slipped in, as he grunted softly. Oh god, she wasn't going to last long. It felt so good, so tight, so right. Long, slow, deep strokes. He'd stopped moaning, he was pushing back and moving with her, squeezing her hard cock inside him. They were moving together faster and faster. Her hips banging against his buttocks, deeper, faster, together. She bent harder over him pushing down, her swollen oiled breasts mashing and sliding down his back. She reached round to feel his thick cock, pulled it back harder. She raked his back with long, scarlet nails.

“Oooooh Ooh Ooh,” they were grunting together.

Harder again. He twisted round to kiss her and she pulled him up, kissing and biting his mouth. He reached one arm back to bring her groin closer as they thrust like animals, grunting. Another thrust, she came deep inside him. She pulled his foreskin back and felt his cock stiffen and spurt great arcs of cum across the kitchen. Her cock softened and slipped out followed by a dribble of white cum from his arse. She paused for a moment and sucked on his puckered hole. She kissed him, with the salty taste of her own cum.

They stood for a moment panting, like two athletes after a race. He put his hand on her hip, his hand sliding across the slick flesh of her hip as he stared at her with a look of shock. He started to speak, but she cut across him.

“Fuck off, I don't want to talk about it.” She needed to think, to process what had happened. She didn't have time for affection or debate.

“Get your clothes and go,” she said. He looked horrified, almost as if he was about to cry. Startled, she suddenly saw Pete, not just a warm body to fuck. Her voice softened.

“Another time, this hasn't happened before,” she said as she stroked his cheek and put her thumb on his swollen, bitten lips. He sucked gently on it and as he looked at her, her cock jerked slightly. Perhaps he could be useful again before going. Her cock was fat and felt like it could with some more attention. And her arsehole ached to be filled. He had quite a nice thick cock. No, her brain was scrambled with hormones, she needed to be alone, he had to go, she had to think...

to be followed.