Bree Bellucci - Bred By Wolves

He could see the outline of her thin frame from his hiding spot behind the tree. She wore a green flowing shirt and brown shorts that hugged snuggly around her perfect ass. Her long blonde hair was trimmed in a halo around her face, making her look like a wood nymph or a fairy, flitting around through the trees. She was walking slowly, bending over to pick up kindling for the fire as she went. Her thin body barely crunched the soil and leaves beneath her as she walked lithely down the forest path.

She hummed a quiet tune to herself, not knowing anyone else was there. He held his breath, crouching further, keeping as still as humanly possible until she reached the place right in front of his tree. Closer, and closer she came. She wasn’t in a hurry. She had her hands wrapped tightly around the twigs and smaller branches, grabbing dry grasses as she walked. He waited until the last possible moment, his mouth watering with the taste of surprise, the hunt, the smell of someone who had no idea what was coming.

“Boo!” He screamed.

Jane turned around with a gasp, dropping everything out of her hands.

“God damn it, Todd! You fucking scared me. And look what you made me do!”

Jane shook her head, gesturing to the twigs and branches that were scattered all around her feet.

“Oh come on, Janey. What did you think I was? A wolf?”

He walked over to her and put his arms around her waist, pulling her close to him. He gave her a kiss on her pouty lips even as she tried to pull away.

“Aren’t you supposed to be getting our tent set up?”

“You’re just mad I got you first.”

Her face slowly broke into a smile.

“You better watch it this weekend,” she said, pushing him away from her as he attempted to help her pick up the scattered pile of kindling. “I’ll get you back for this.”

Jane pretended to be legitimately mad, but Todd was right. She what really made her angry was that she hadn’t scared him first. They were both quite rowdy, each trying to one-up the other by being the toughest, funniest, and most successful practical joker.

Jane and her boyfriend Todd, two of their closest friend couples, Tracy and Manny, and Carrie and George, were all taking this camping trip together for Labor day. The coming of fall was one of Jane’s favorite times of year. And to make it even better, this weekend was a Blue Harvest moon. She was glad they had all decided to get separate tents this time; something about the full moon always made her extremely horny.

The group of twenty-something's had arrived with just enough time to set up their campsite before darkness fell. Something about the mountains made dusk feel even shorter, perhaps it was the way the waning light was tempered by the trees and the cliffs themselves, but the nights seemed to buzz even more with a kind of animalistic energy.

The magic hour, ever since she was a child, that’s what Jane had called dusk. As a little girl it was the time she had been told to come back inside from playing outdoors. Now, as an adult, it was the time when her day really got going. The time when she felt most alive, ready for anything to happen. She only really felt like an adult when she did things that adults shouldn’t be bothered with doing. Things like sleeping until noon, staying out until sunrise, eating with her hands, peeing in the woods, one night stands, and other things most responsible grown-ups were supposed to know better about.

Though she was responsible in most aspects of her life, the sexual excitement and ecstasy of her adolescence was still growing stronger, even at 25 when she was supposed to be settling down and getting her career in line — not worrying about chasing lovers and playing games.

The truth was, Jane loved sex. She didn’t think of it as an addiction; things that weren’t unhealthy shouldn’t bear such a negative stigma. She liked it soft and sweet as well as hard and rough. She liked it with two people and with four people and maybe with ten — she hadn’t tried it but she wanted to. She wanted it any way, any place, in any position. As much as her body could handle. And she could handle a lot. If she could manage the circumstances, Jane would have constant sex. But there were those silly things like jobs and dinner and cleaning that sometimes got in the way. And besides, the men she knew needed an awful amount of recovery time between rounds.

As Jane grew older and as her body and her mind matured, the more comfortable she became with herself, the more she wanted to experiment in the bedroom. She knew herself extremely well, she knew the folds of her own body, the curves of her breasts and the supple feeling of her hips, protracted by the sharp protruding bone. She wanted to find the limits of her own skin, to feel herself stretch to the point of almost breaking, and maybe even more. The more adult she felt, the more she wanted to be treated like a dirty teenager, exploring the positions and fluids of copulation for the first time, again and again.

By the time all three of the tents were assembled, and the table, camping shower, and the camp fire were set up, everyone in the group was starving. They planned on fishing for most of their food that weekend along the banks of the river. The river was very close to their campsite and they heard from the park rangers that it was thrashing with salmon and carp and every kind of edible pescetarian dream. Tonight they would have to settle for the most basic of campfire meals, hotdogs and baked beans. Todd had carved several of the longer sticks Jane had gathered into a point so they could roast them the old fashioned way.

“There’s nothing old fashioned about hot dogs,” snarked Carrie. “In the old days people would have had to hunt their own food, and rip the meat off the bone and eat it right then. These are just the leftover parts cased in some intestinal sacks.”

“Shhh,” said Manny. “Don’t make them sound too exciting or the animals will all want some.”

“You are what you eat,” Jane said, half-joking, holding up an uncooked hotdog for a group cheers. Normally she wouldn’t put something like this in her mouth unless it was attached to a living thing. But this was a vacation, after all. She could stray a little from her everyday routine. There was something childlike and nostalgic about eating a hot dog roasted on a stick surrounded by all her best friends.

Still, Jane was usually careful about what she ate. She was pretty healthy, for the most part, lots of fruits and vegetables, always her full eight glasses of water. Although she never neglected her sweet tooth, she was blessed with a quick metabolism and a love for exercise. She could pretty much indulge in all the cake and pastries and other sugary things she wanted.

Before long the food was gone and the couples left the fire one by one, either to go to sleep or to partake in some other more private activities. Jane noticed that the boys had pitched each couples’ tent as far away from the others as possible, while still staying within view. It looked like they were all expecting to get lucky that weekend at one point or another, and that it might get loud.

“We’ll see who wins this game,” said Jane to herself. She and Todd were the last to leave the campfire. Todd reached into the cooler and took out the last hot dog.

“Are you sure you aren’t still hungry for more?”

He wiggled the limp dog at her. And then speared it hastily with the point of his roasting stick.

“Actually, I am hungry,” she said, licking her lips dramatically. “But not for that.”

Jane looked straight at him and then down at her blouse. She unbuttoned her shirt slowly, and opened the front of the material to show that she wasn’t wearing a bra. Her perky round breasts peeked out, they were big for her small frame, and the cool night air hardened her pink nipples on contact. She licked her finger and reached down to trace the puckered skin of her breast, drawing circles around her light pink areolas.