She walked along the rocky path, her basket bumping against her knee with each step. Granny and her damn snacks, she thought, glancing angrily at the hamper with its jaunty gingham cover. She spied a run in her tights where the rough cane had caught a thread, laddering all the way up the side of her leg and disappearing under the petticoat ruffles that hung beneath her red velvet skirt. Classy, she thought, and took the wicker handle in both hands, holding the basket out in front of her.
Fallen leaves crunched beneath her shoes, as she traipsed deeper into the forest. The trees became denser, the shadows darker, the air cooler, and when she gazed upwards, she could barely see the sky beyond the branches high above.
A rustling noise sounded from the undergrowth, and she stopped and peered into the gloom.
“Who’s there?” she said, her words quivering.
A deep growl rumbled in return, and an enormous grey wolf stepped onto the path in front of her.
Her heart instantly began to pound, thumping against her ribcage. She looked around to see if she was still alone, already knowing that she was.
“Go away,” she yelled at the wolf, fear colouring her voice.
But the wolf kept coming.
She stood perfectly still, transfixed as the beast moved towards her, its huge paws padding silently on the dirt, its amber eyes never once leaving her face.
Her hands began to tremble. “Please,” she cried. “Please… Please… Please hurry up I have an appointment in town at three.”
The wolf rose up on its hind legs, and a rush of heat surged through her body as she lustfully watched her lover transform.
In just moments, he stood before her, naked and human, thick muscles rippling and glistening with sweat from the exertion of the change; a brilliant smile spread across his impossibly handsome face.
She shrugged off her cape and dropped her basket to the ground as she practically sprinted towards him.
He reached out a powerful arm, hooking it around her neck and drawing her into his broad chest.
Their lips crashed together, hungry and urgent, all wetness and teeth, lost in each other’s taste.
He artfully unlaced her bodice, his kiss never faltering, his mouth never leaving hers, and as she wiggled her dress from her shoulders and let it fall to her feet, they tumbled to the ground in a tangled mass of limbs and unchecked passion.
“You really need to get over this little red riding hood kink of yours,” she said as she straightened her skirt and dusted the dirt from her tights.
“Maybe next time I can blow your house down,” he said, with a grin. His teeth were already starting to change; canines poking down over his still puffy from kissing lips.
“As long as there’s blowing involved babe, I’m all for it.”
He threw his head back and howled.
She sighed as she watched him lope into the cover of the trees, the early afternoon breeze ruffling his soft, grey fur. “Until the next full moon,” she called after him, and a shiver of anticipation ran down her spine when he turned and snarled, his amber eyes glowing with promise against the darkness of the forest.
© Amy Hutton 2020