He nodded. “And you’re not getting laid?” He nodded again. “Would you like to get laid right now?” Paul nodded eagerly. “Well, it ain’t ...onna happen.” Paul looked crushed. He already was semi-hard in anticipation, and the deflationary spiral was already beginning to appear. “But, there’s a consolation prize.” Barb, still astride Randy and his rocket, motioned Paul forward. She took the matter firmly in hand and gave him a moment to remember. His sperm doused her tits. Barb scooped some up on. Werewolves were the daughters of Las, birthed out of his indiscriminate masturbation like so many other creatures from changelings to imps. They were all female, needing dual-sex males to mate with, taking them back to their dens. They would fuck the men until they died of exhaustion, the entire pack taking turns. They could shift from human women, looking of the same race and species as their father, but then could shift into hybrid creatures, shaggy, wolf-like beasts. They were one of a dozen. More

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