Chapter 1: Night with the Boys
Bif’s hair stood on end, signifying the time to shift drawing near. Fucking new moon. He gulped down his beer, glaring at the other men and women gathered around the campfire. Unlike his fellow shifters, he had a mop of golden locks and piercing blue eyes. Most of it hid under his ball cap which only made his chiseled jaw and muscular neck and shoulders stand out. He shifted in the camp chair and it creaked under the weight. Unlike the cozy office jobs his companions preferred, he’d spent the summer working odd jobs and hay bailing. His skin had turned a rich tawny color as if the warmth of the sun had soaked into his flesh and stayed.
It wouldn’t be long now before the change came over them all. Every new moon, they gathered here in the National Forest to walk the night as the notorious urban legends of the woods. They’d set camp and checked no human had camped within a twenty-mile radius. Even the trail cams from hunters and researchers had been turned off, and any signs of tree stands checked and checked again. Being caught on camera caused a huge uproar in their secret community of shifters, whether a Sasquatch or a Chupacabra, it didn’t bode well.
Twisting off another beer cap, Bif hated what came next. Everyone’s cell phone alarms went off in unison and the ritual started. He watched with bitter disdain as the men and women around him started to shed their clothes. Bare skin glowed orange in the firelight and he was the only one celebrating alone. Again, Bif found the bottom of his beer and snorted. Seeing the smiles, the way hands glided to the more intimate parts freely and without obstruction only added to the misery he endured.
Last time he’d brought someone, one of his own kind, but she had broken up with him shortly before tonight. He thought it had gone well. They had screwed all night, and when the sun came up, they had one more round for good measure. He should have noticed after that the relationship was a bust. She hadn’t been calling or texting. When they did talk, she was busy, but at last it came to a head three days ago when he caught her after work.
He could still hear her words stinging in his chest. ‘I found someone else to spend the new moon with. Sorry, Bif. It’s not you; it’s me.’
She had spun on her heel, giving him one more gulp of her perfume before sliding into a car. Not hers, but her new man’s Dodge Charger, and it had roared away. In his mind, it had sounded more like laughter, and he wondered if she had used him for the last new moon.
“Bif, come on! Time to strip buddy! We can’t have Big Foot running around in a wife beater and cargo shorts,” Satch snorted, pulling his girlfriend closer to him.
His friend may have been just as tall but lacked the bulk of muscles Bif carried. He was just as attractive in his own way with his pompadour haircut and the deep brown eyes matching the bony structure of his thin face. Out of the group of friends, Satch was the playboy, the one who always got whatever girl he set his mind and dick on. Granted, he wasn’t afraid to use dirty methods to get that done, and Bif hated that part of Satch the Sasquatch.
“Oh, leave him be. It was a bad break up,” Abe chimed in as Bif shed his clothes and grabbed yet another beer. “Leave the poor guy alone.”
Then there was Abe the Skunk Ape. His family had moved up north from Florida after most of their new moon go-to spots had been flattened for progressive projects like theme parks and apartments. Unlike a Big Foot or Sasquatch, his kind never got big. He wondered if it had to do with the swampy regions they originated from, needing to be agile to avoid the panthers and gators, but Abe always shrugged when Bif asked.
“Ya, leave this poor guy alone,” Bif winked at Abe. “Plus, ya’ll got some ladies to wait on. Don’t waste any more time on the third...” He paused, counting the others. “Make that fifth wheel.”
“Ya-ya.” Kissing his girl, Satch started to stumble into the woods, tugging her along. “I told you that Bethany chick was bad news.”
Heat rose in Bif’s face, the site of the lovey-dovey couples combined with Satch’s remark adding to his frustration. If I had someone else, I wouldn’t be alone. And it’s not like there’s plenty of shifters like us to choose from asshole.
Bif cracked open another beer and shouted after him, “Does Yeti Spaghetti know you’re banging his sister?”
“No and don’t ruin it, Bif!” the girl hissed, her petite body pale as snow in comparison to her dark black hair. “And I have a name!”
“Yea, I know it, Yvonne. Ghetti bitches about you every chance he gets.” Bif raised an eyebrow but as he turned to his other comrades, they had all fled into the forest.
“Fine. More beer for me.” He flopped back into the camp chair as midnight crested.
Ghetti the Yeti couldn’t come out with them this time around. He was some place in Vancouver for a job, but that cooler weather during a new moon probably felt amazing. They called him ‘Yeti Spaghetti’ because he was more fur than man. Shifted, he looked larger than Bif, but the moment he went back to normal, he looked like a wet noodle. Bif chuckled to himself thinking back to the first time they met, and he had seen him shift. Shame he wasn’t here to keep him company.
As the new moon crested, hair erupted across his body and he groaned. Another beer and he became more numb to the night and to the fact he was alone. Unlike some of his fellow shifters, he didn’t grow bigger, just more hair or fur or whatever you wanted to call the fluff that came with the change. In human form, he was just a tall and an overall huge man. He’d been labelled a body builder, Samoan, hell, even called a steroid junkie a few times.
Bif sat there, nothing more than a really drunk, miserable Big Foot. He’d spent plenty of new moons running the woods as an urban legend solo, but tonight, it hurt. Some part of him just hated getting a taste of something special, intimate even. If only I had a girl to spend these nights with... a girl who would let me make her happy...
Chapter 2: Start Your Engines
“Come on, Frankie,” Ted lugged the tent into the back of his old Ford Bronco, right beside the fifty-gallon tub of motion sensor cameras and recording equipment. Tall and built like a wrestler, there was no mistaking he was one of the good-ole-boys that made a girl wet just watching him work. Military haircut teamed with a long, brown beard ironically matched with a farmer’s tan and hazel eyes. He could make any girl ache to spend a night with him. If that didn’t tickle your fancy, the man had big arms and a sex drive that never ended. “We need to get out there and set up before dark.”
“I thought you said we were going camping as a couple’s retreat this weekend?” Frankie crossed her arms, bottom lip puffing out as she gave him a heated glare from under her locks of bleached blonde hair. She had worn some homemade daisy dukes, complete with her bikini top and a shirt tied up so she could flash as much skin as she could for her man--for easy access too. Even with her thick thighs, wide hips, and big breasts, she still felt dwarfed next to Ted and his heap of muscles. Despite it, nothing could tame the brilliant blue in those eyes when she had a goal in mind. “Why are you packed like we’re going out there to film a full production movie?”
“If we’re going out there, I’m going to do some Sas-hunting.” And there was Ted’s biggest flaw. Whether it was the redneck in him or the nerd, he had a section of his garage looking like a conspiracy theorist’s assassination chart, complete with maps, photos, and newspaper clippings all centered around the local forest legend, Sasquatch. “Frankie, baby… please, you know how much this means to me. I swear I’ll make it up to you, Sweet Pea.”
Twisting her lips further, she hated when he cooed her name like that. “Stop it. You look like a sad, lost puppy.” Deep down her heart sank. Last time they were out together, and someone mentioned Sasquatch, it had caught his attention hard. So hard that he lost interest in her completely. They had gone home early from the bar, and she fell asleep while he spent the entire night reviewing his Sasquatch notes because some new information had been shared. “This better not end up like the night we came home from the Nice’nSleazy.”
“Frankie, Honey Bee.” He came closer, his hand gliding across her abdomen, riding over her hip and grabbing her ass. It was aggressive and he pulled her against him. Oh, how she loved it rough, dirty, and the more domineering the man, the more she came. “You know I’m really going out there to have fun with you, Baby.”
“Stop it with the sugary pet names.” Her resolve waned as his beard tickled at her neck and he began kissing her, lips hot as they suckled with the threat of leaving a hickie. “Ted, don’t. Last time I had to wear a scarf around my neck for over a week, dammit.”
“Oh?” He nibbled her, his teeth grazing her skin and she crushed her neck close. He moved on to new grounds, suckling at her ear, sending chills across her skin. The heat of his hands crawled all over her, making her ache for more. Who cares if we get carried away in the front yard? Let him bend me over and teach me a lesson for daring to give him a hard time with his nice hard… “Don’t worry. I have other places I can leave those.”
She grinned, his free hand slipping under her shirt, snaking under the bikini. Fingers gripped her breast, squeezing until she moaned. “Ted, the neighbors might see us.”
He laughed, twisting her nipple and his voice breathy in her ear. “Let's give them a show, right here, right now.” Another twist made her squeal and she wiggled against him, his monstrous arm wrapping around her waist and keeping her from escaping him.
Frankie arched her back and Ted began kissing down her neck and across her collarbone. Oh, how she loved the way his beard tickled her skin. Her fingers gripped his shirt into balls, and he slipped his knee between her thighs. She moaned and it only egged him on. Hot lips wrapped around her nipple and a silken tongue flicked it, each time sending a throb of want through her. Frankie closed her eyes tight, enjoying the overwhelming foreplay and secretly hoped the neighbor would be watching from between the blinds.
Hope the crazy old bat has her binoculars!
Catching her breath, she wanted to save this for when they were alone in the woods, but maybe that could be the encore. Nothing intrigued her more than the idea of losing herself to sexual pleasure in the wild, like the animal she craved to be from time to time.
No, I want to tease him, make sure he’ll forget all about Sasquatch by the time we get there.
Pushing Ted off her, she spun out of reach playfully. “First, you give me that camping trip you promised, then maybe we can see about your little front yard fantasy.” Her fingers caressed his groin before skipping off around the Bronco.
Ted licked his lips watching Frankie climb into his lifted Bronco, his pants a little tighter at the thought of bending her over for all to see. Shaking loose from her tantalizing view, he finished tossing everything in the back. Leaning on the tail gate, his eyes scanned everything he had; there in those tubs were five wildlife trail motion detecting cameras, two remote feed video cameras, the camouflaged tent, cans of deer musk and scent cover, the laptop and pack of battery backups, folding table, camp chairs, and some MREs.
Smiling, Ted’s thoughts said it all; Good weekend to catch Sasquatch and a good fucking on camera.
“We have everything?” Frankie leaned out the window and lifted an eyebrow. “Or are ya taking a piss back there?”
Snorting, he winked at her, closing the back up. Hopping in front of the wheel, Ted brought the Bronco to life with a roar.
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