KayKee hugged her Bio II book to herself, resisting the urge to do something that would completely expose her pack and the rest of her people, could she keep control long enough? She longed to do what every other wolfen before her has, but she had to restrain herself, biting down on her lip to create some sort of distraction. Why are these kind of people so alluring? The smell of them was making my canines extend and my mouth water. What was I to do?
There, right on the sidewalk, sat my deadliest and most delectable adversary…a hobo. The revolting, sewage smell wafting of him like the overbearing smell of McDonalds to a obese man/women. A nameless crust covered every inch of his clothing, what little of it there was, and have his skin sort of a medium rare look. She wonder if he tasted like week old hamburger.
"Fight it," whispered Amee "fight it."
Every cell in her body and thought in her brain was screaming with desire, but she was determined to fight it until she was away from this enticing, forbidden meal. KayKee and Amee were almost home free, until they heard the man ask an old lady for spare change then they could no longer control their hunger. They had to feed, and they had to feed now.
Amee went straight into the alleyway to wait, KayKee went in for the capture. Waiting until no one was around she snatched up the man in both arms like a baby and used her intense werewolf speed to quickly retreat into the ally after her friend, feeling the pleasure of a record time and plentiful hunt. Not that hobos could put up much of a fight with their lack of nutrition and everything.
Amee grabbed the meal from her hands and held him up against the stone wall in the back of the ally behind a couple dumpsters. Her grip was firm but gentle, almost like a mothers would be, we did not want this man to suffer or anything so the plan was to knock him out first with a blow to the head before they gnaw on his delicious skin and entrails.
KayKee pulled back her hand, about to make the blow when she saw the mans torn denim jeans start to darken with moisture around the crotch and down the thighs making a pool of yellow, dehydrated liquid trickle from his pant legs, building up in a puddle around Amee's new high heeled boots.
"The bitch peed on me!" screamed Amee in complete repulsion, dropping the man to the floor and pulling out a ton of wet naps from her purse to frantically wipe at her boots. "We were about to be nice and knock him out before we ate his stupid, crusty ass but instead he has to be all 'Oh my gosh, I'm so scared I am going to piss all over this chick'. Hobos are so unappreciative when they are about to be devoured." she ranted.
The man was now long gone, probably on his way to turn us into the police, or find some new pants. It was all good though, everyone thought the man was absolutely harebrained because he tried sticking his dick in the deep fryer when he worked at Wendys several years ago because he thought every girl would like a fried dick, but the peculiar part was he is gay. So, he was dubbed as the fast food basket case, making it unfeasible for him to keep or get a job, which should explain why he is a hobo nowadays.
She truly did take pity on the man, but still wanted to tear out his liver and other edible organs at the same time. It was truly a love, hate relationship.
"Lets go home," said Amee finished cleaning her now immaculate looking boots.
I nodded and we headed off down the street, where we would run into four more homeless women and men before arriving home to restock on wet naps.