Night of the Werecock

The first time it happened was the full moon after I let Randy, a boy I sucked off a few times, come over for “old time’s sake.” The sex had been...different. Decent for once. More wild than you’d expect from a kid like Randy, who was always a bit timid when it was time to get naked. I mean, he bent me over the bed and held me down and I just let him because who am I to stand in the way of a man with a mission?

He literally fucked me silly. I was out of my mind, begging him for more like a cheap little slut, and I didn’t even notice when the fucker took a bite out of my shoulder. And I mean that. He bit a hunk off my shoulder. I didn’t notice until the next morning. It didn’t hurt but there was blood all over my bed and that’s a bitch to get out. I shouted at him until the pounding in my head got to be too much and then the bastard smirked at me.

“Trust me. You’ll thank me later.”

Trust him. Right. Things worked out just fine for me, but let me tell you, he didn’t exactly do me any favors. Once a month, I turn into a fucking beast. I mean, that’s what I do. I fuck like a beast until I’ve fucked my way through everything in my path. You’re probably not seeing the downside yet. Fair enough. I’m sure Randy didn’t see the downside, either. He split town for awhile after that, so he wasn’t around on Halloween. That was the night it happened. Fortunately, I wasn’t alone when the pain between my legs drove me to the floor.

“Jeff, you okay man?” That’s my friend Aiden. Me and him go way back. Our parents are best friends and we grew up going on vacation together every summer and Christmas break and knowing we’d be together forever. Sounds cheesy, but it’s true. And I’m trying to make a point here, which is that he’d do anything for me, I’d do anything for him, no questions asked.

Let me tell you, I was not okay. You know when you hear a sound in the middle of the night and you stalk through your apartment clutching your trusty old bat, moving like a ninja in the dark? That is, until you slam crotch first into that annoying table by the couch that’s always been there but you never remember. It was like that sensation, except a thousand times worse. I’m afraid I might have lost control a bit of myself then, openly whimpering as I collapsed onto the stained and smelly carpet.

“What’s going on, man? Talk to me here. Do you need an ambulance?”

“No…I don’t know. My pants.”

You try to talk when your balls hurt so bad your eyes ache.

“What’s wrong with your pants?”

Aiden still sounded alarmed, but a hint of doubt crept into his voice that I found rather insulting. I have a fine sense of humor, and writhing on the ground while holding my balls was not my idea of a good time or a funny joke. Though in hindsight, I’m impressed he kept a straight face. Maybe it was due to my obvious pain.

“Too…tight.”