Page 7 of There's Something About Dragons
I feel faint.
My feral form does not. I can hear stitches popping.
“May I use your bathroom?” I gasp. Not that human bathrooms are a good size for shifting, but they’re a good size for unzipping your rented tuxedo pants so your giant feral dicks don’t tear through them like wet Kleenex.
“Of course, it’s inside on the left…”
I push Radar into her arms as I pass her on my way into the house. Banging the door to the half-bathroom shut behind me, I slam the lock and unzip just in time. Two enormous erections spill out of my pants, already dripping pre-cum onto Cari’s tile floor.
“Unnngh,” I groan, leaning back against the door while I wait for them to deflate. Worst moment to half-shiftever. I should have followed Gabe’s advice and yanked them before I got dressed for the Revel.
A tentative knock sounds. “Are you okay, Zed?” Cari’s soft, worried voice carries through the wooden panel. My dicks bob at the sound of my name on her lips.
“Fine! I’m fine!” I say, a little too cheerfully. “Just give me a minute.”
A minute stretches into five, and my dicks are still as fat and unruly as they were when I ran in here. I run the water so it sounds like I’m busy doing regular bathroom stuff.
Sirens wail, then cut out as tires crunch in the gravel driveway outside. Heavy knocking. A drawling exchange that I can’t quite make out. The cops are here.Damnit.
What is it that my shifting coach always says?Be firm with your feral form. He won’t listen if he doesn’t respect you.
“Get back inside,” I hiss at my dicks. “You are going to get us in such deep trouble.”
Voices. Then Cari’s gentle knock again. “Zed? Can you come out and meet the officer? It’s nothing serious. He just wants to make sure everything’s okay between you and me.”
“Uh…I’m not done.”
“What’s taking so long? What’s he doing in there?” her dad growls.
“Nothing!” I blurt out in a panic. “I mean, notnothing. I’m, uh, doing bathroom things. In the bathroom. Like normal.” Right. That sounded like a totally normal response. I’m sure he’s not suspicious at all.
“Dad, let him have some space. Come on. I’ll make some coffee for the cops while they wait.” Their voices fade somewhat as they retreat toward the kitchen.
I try and stuff my dicks back into my pants. Maybe if I can just wedge one on each side, I can zip up…
Nope. And the stimulation—not to mention the images of Cari in that damn blue dress that keep popping into my head—makes them swell even bigger.
I bang the back of my head gently against the door. If the cops find me like this, it’s not just going to be bad for me. It’s going to be bad for my whole hive. It will prove that monsters can’t control themselves. That we need more rules and restrictions to keep humans safe.
My cocks don’t care. They just drool on the floor like a dog waiting for dinner.
Fine.I grip the shaft of one in each hand and start stroking, fast and hard. It doesn’t usually take long. Feels weird to think of Cari when she’s in the next room with her dad and a couple of police officers, though. Like I should ask her permission first. I try to think of something else. Anything else.
The issue ofDragon Damesmy cousin gave me as a joke when I turned eighteen. The cute orc barista at the drive-through coffee hut who singlehandedly caused my caffeine addiction a few years back. Even the curvy back end of a Ferrari that resembles a female’s feral form! But none of them stick. Cari’s pale blue eyes and sweet smile cut the line every time.
I give in and let memories of her flood my senses. Sweat beading in her cleavage after chasing Radar around the yard. A damp strand of blonde hair sticking to her cheek. The way she bit her lip when I brushed it back.
The dick in my left hand goes off, splattering the side of the sink and dragging a groan out of my chest. One more to go.Almost there. Almost there.
Cari jumping up and down at the finish line of my race, chest bouncing inside her sweater. Cari’s small foot in my hand, toes wiggling against my palm—
Someone hammers on the door, jarring me out of my fantasy before I can coax my other cock to cooperate. “What’s going on in there? It better not be what I think it is. Open this door in the next five seconds, or I’m coming in,” Cari’s dad yells, rattling the doorknob.
“No, wait, hang on!” Frantically, I shove my softening lower cock back into my pants and then the still-stiff one on top of it. Even with only one feral erection to accommodate, the tuxedo pants protest, straining to the limit.
This isn’t going to work. But the scratchy sound of the lock being picked lights a fire under my tail. In one last desperateattempt, I tug the edges of my fly together and yank the zipper as hard as I can.
Piercing pain lances through me. My vision spots. My feral formroarsinside me.
