I laughed as he sighed at my sheathed form and it was my turn to stroke his long glossy hair as he nuzzled my crotch. I pulled away and he growled sof...ly. I dropped onto all fours and shook from nose to tail like a dog, and once I was finished I was on four good feet, tail curving up like a husky and feral. This way my legs were longer, narrow like the wolves I took after, and my mane redder and more pronounced. I scented the wind and Kieran stood up, and ran his fingers through my fur. I. The sky was crystalline and the air smelled new and sweet. The trees were bursting with the growth of new leaves and everything looked green and fresh, a contrast to the dark and decaying neighborhood where I rented an apartment. I was a student at University, and I had just purchased on a whim a book of poetry titled, “The Days Run Away Like Wild Horses Over the Hills”, by an author I’d never heard of named Bukowski. He’d go on to be a cult hero among disaffected college students and wanna be. As I reach your steps, you hear my heels click on the wooden slats and you stand by the door waiting. My fingers drag across the door before curling into a fist. With an nervous intake of breath, I rap on the door…lightly at first…and firmer as I gain more confidence…As you open the door, I see your eyes look me over, they linger on the purple lace peeking out from the top of my dress…moving up to look me in the eyes. We stare at eachother for a moment. My eyes appear fiercely green and you. Come here and let us incarnate our words into the flesh. Come here for your Muses' inspiration. I long for the moment when--after you have been kissed a thousand times and a thousand times more--you will be as we have again and again. Nude and spread open, playing with yourself. The passage that maps out for you the geography of the g-spot and the chart we will follow when, in bed, by the ocean, on its simple white linen sheets, I will take you on your maiden voyage to the pacific bliss of a.