Like a lot of women, if the ratio is one to many I much prefer the one to be the woman and the many to be the men. So I was wary about this scene. I didn't want it to come across like a male fantasy. One man (well near enough) takes on 27 hot 'n' horny witches.
But I think it works.
One Werewolf: 27 Witches
Lilith looked sort of sad, distant. 'Poor, poor boy. Can’t have sex unless he's tied down and muzzled to protect his partner. Can’t even play with his magnificent cock unless he secures himself.' She looked right at Alfie's groin as she said that, then reached out and lifted his chin with her hand. 'Maybe we could at least do something for you. Something that would please us as much as it does you.'
She turned the collar over once in her hands. 'Let me see.' She reached out and snapped it shut around Alfie's neck. 'Just temporary, you understand. I can hold your form myself perfectly well while we enjoy you. But the collar does look so pretty on you. Just think of it as decorative. Icing on our beefcake.' She smiled a long slow smile and all around Alfie, the witches got to their feet.
In split moments, the witch's hands were all over him, pushing him back onto his knees, anchoring him to the ground, pulling his legs apart, stroking his inner-thighs. Mouths crushed onto his, kissing and nipping. Floaty fabric caressed his skin and drifted over his eyes. Fingernails grazed his nipples. When a tongue slid over the bite scar on his shoulder, he closed his eyes so tightly he saw stars. More hands tangled in his hair and pulled his head back hard, forcing him to look up. Lilith was standing over him. 'Thank you so much for this,' she said. Alfie gasped as he felt two different tongues swirled over his balls. 'We do get so bored of all the lesbian orgies. Sometimes one just wants. Well, would it be awfully vulgar to say "cock"?'
Lilith snapped her fingers and the witches pulled away, leaving Alfie kneeling on the ground - tingling and thrusting into nothing. He was teased and aroused to the perfect point of need. He could barely think about anything but his swollen kiss-bruised mouth, his erect nipples and his hard, desperate cock. Lilith stepped closer and straddled his lap, sliding herself onto him, her tailored-skirt gliding up to her waist.
She kissed him. Kissing. She tasted like everything Alfie had ever desired, chocolate, steak, Iris, death. 'Poor boy,' Lilith whispered. 'Poor sad boy, perhaps there is more I can do for you.'
'Perhaps?' Alfie gasped.
Lilith nodded. 'Something to fix you.'
Lilith put her hands on Alfie face. He felt her tighten around his cock until he thought he was about to come. 'Well,' she said, 'anything is possible. It depends what you really want.'
'What I really want?'
Lilith kept moving on his lap. 'Yes. Do you want her? Or do you want to forget about her?'
'Yes. You said you'd been trying to fuck her out of your system. Want to try and do that properly? There's 27 of us.'
'27! I, I can't,' said Alfie. 'It's only after changing that I can keep going like…'
Lilith put one long manicured finger to Alfie's lips. 'We're witches, werewolf, witches. You don't have to worry about anything like that.'
She moved against him once more and again and faster. Still with her hand covering his mouth, she moved on his cock until he came.
When Alfie's breathing slowed he looked over and saw that the witches were lined up, the queue of them snaking back into the trees. He swallowed and moaned. He was still hard. A short blonde was at the front of the queue, she came casually over and lifted her skirt, straddling him, and shoving her tongue quickly and roughly into his mouth.
Alfie looked over her shoulder at the others. So they were all going to fuck him? All going to make him come? And that was going to make him forget Iris? Did he even want that?
There seemed like a lot of them, he though, as the blonde kissed him to panting arousal. 27, Lilith had said. Did that include her? So he had 26 left, including this one who was working his magically hard cock inside herself. 26 – like the letters of the alphabet. So she's A – all he needed to do was get to Z without going insane.
The blonde made him come quickly. She was very tight and hot and wet. She kissed a lot. Kissing.
Another fuck and then C and D both sucked his dick. One after the other. He was still getting hard but the forth time he came, into a white-haired witch's mouth, it felt like fire being ripped out of him. That was the first time he screamed.
But they didn’t stop. Each one stepped forward and grasped his cock, jerking it quickly back to readiness. It was torture. Most wanted to fuck. Two of them, F and J wanted it up the arse. He hauled himself up to do it each time. Drained of energy.
By the time Z stepped forward, a witch with long red hair, Alfie was lying back on the grass, barely able to move. Z grasped his cock.
'Oh no,' Alfie moaned, 'no, please, not again. Please.'
'Well,' said Z as she slipped his hard cock inside her and leaned forward to pinch his nipples, 'you’re the werewolf who doesn’t believe in Lure, doesn’t believe in life mates, and yet, everyone around you can see Iris is yours. Even like this, taking woman after woman like some kind of ultra virile fuck brute, you can only think of her. Can’t you? It's only her.'
'So is that what this really is?' Alfie whispered. 'You're trying to show me how much she means to me by fucking me to death?'
'What do you think?' The red head smiled and began to move faster on his cock. Alfie screamed, came again, and passed out.
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