Page 4 of Love is Trash in Hallow's Cove

“What the heck is going on out here?” a warm, feminine voice mutters. I don’t have time to look at the source as Beans grabs the pink fabric and makes a break for it before whoever is speaking can stop him. He scurries across Main Street, fabric in his mouth.

“Hey! Come back here!” the woman shouts feebly after him, but he doesn’t care now that he has his prize. At least he’s not dumb enough to lead her directly back to our place.

We make it back to the game shop and after a brief internal struggle, I manage to take control again. I shift back to my hybrid form, panting from the exertion.

“What the fuck, Beans?” I mutter. He doesn’t reply in my mind, far too fixated on what we’ve retrieved.

I look down at his prize, opening up my fist to find a pair of lacy pink panties balled up in my grip. My dick leaks at the sight, and while Beans is usually silent when I’m aroused, he’s chanting “mine” over and over in the back of my head.

It’s a good thing the woman from the bodega didn’t follow us, because how the fuck am I supposed to explain that I stole what I presume is her underwear? Sure, it was in the trash and therefore fair game, but I don’t think that’ll matter. People in town already think I’m a weirdo. I don’t need to add panty stealing creep to that.

Against my better judgment, I bring the panties back up to my nose. My cock bucks, throbbing with need as the incredible musky scent washes over me again.

I tear the panties away from my nose and shove them inside my backpack, dressing quickly before anyonediscovers me out here. There are a lot of shifters in Hallow’s Cove, but public nudity is very much frowned upon for those of us who have genitals that aren’t covered by fur or hidden inside our bodies when we’re not aroused.

Despite the bracing wind, I’m still hard as a rock beneath my joggers. I pull my hood up over my ears as I head back home, sticking to the shadows between streetlights in case my neighbor is still outside. Thankfully, she seems to have given up on finding the critter that nabbed her underwear, so I make it back to my shop without incident, going in through the storefront rather than trying to negotiate the toppled boxes out back or risk going through the alley again.

As soon as I make it upstairs, and into my living area, Beans is running around in my mind, begging for another hit from the panties. I wish I didn’t feel the same way, but I want to experience the thrill of their scent again, too.

Making sure the blinds are closed in my bedroom, I shuck my pants and retrieve the panties from my backpack. There’s the faintest voice in the back of my head, not Beans, my raccoon side, but Jacob, the responsible, upstanding man who warns me when I’m about to do something stupid or wrong. Right now, he’s whispering that I shouldn’t sniff the panties again. Telling me it’s creepy and weird and wrong. That I should take them back out to the dumpster, or better yet, burn them so there’s nothing left to tempt me.

Too bad regular Jake and Beans are far louder. With a pained groan, I bring the delicate fabric back up to mynose, letting out a shuddering sigh as the scent washes over me. Before I can think better of it, my tongue darts out to lap at the gusset and though it’s faint, the taste is just as incredible as the scent. My cock begs for attention, the tip wet and ruddy against the softness of my stomach.

I’ve eaten pussy before. Sucked a few cocks, too. But nothing in the universe can compare to the primal taste and scent infused in these pretty pink panties. It’s making my mind simultaneously fuzzy with lust and crystal clear with the knowledge that something is instinctually right and mine. It’s that potent combination that has me fisting my cock with one hand, pumping it in rough strokes as I hold the fabric over my nose and mouth at the same time.

It doesn’t take long before my orgasm approaches. Fuck, if I were at all in my right mind, it’d be embarrassing how little time it takes. There’s no mind left though—only need as I stroke my throbbing cock and lap at the lacy fabric until I come, thick white ropes jetting out of my dick like a fountain as I shudder through my release.

With a feeble groan, I collapse down onto the bed beside me, my body weak and limp in the aftermath of my orgasm. It takes all my energy to tug my shirt off over my head and use it as a makeshift cum rag so I don’t get jizz all over my clean comforter.

I lie there, stunned and more than a little confused by the events of the past hour. After a few minutes, my stomach rumbles, and Beans makes his presence known again after being silent while I had my frenzied jerk sesh.

Muffins.

I huff out a weak laugh. “No fucking way, dude. We’re not going back out there tonight. With my luck, you’ll find something else that’ll make you lose your mind.”

Beans grumbles, but doesn’t seem chastised at all. Instead he repeats his new favorite thing to say—mine—as I realize I’m still clutching the panties.

“I’m never going to be able to look my neighbor in the face now,” I mutter to myself, scrubbing my non-panty holding hand across my beard.

We haven’t even met yet. According to Brooks, my friend and local produce hookup, she took over running the bodega a few weeks ago while her aunts are out of town. I haven’t needed to stop in since I keep a stockpile of essentials at all times, and I’ve been busy with projects, so I didn’t think much of it.

Now, though?

How the fuck am I supposed to go get paper towels or some shit like that, knowing about my deranged behavior? What if I’m around her and Beans flips out again and tries to steal her panties right off her body? And what the fuck does it even mean that I’m feral for her scent?

There’s only one solution. I’ll have to avoid her until she leaves.

Chapter three

Hayley

“Ithinkwemayhave a raccoon problem.”

Freddie, by far the most chatty of his siblings, perks up as I approach, looking up from the gossip magazine he’s reading from his stool behind the checkout counter. “Hey Hayley! Did you see the article about how that pop star says she got abducted by aliens? She says that they probed her. Can you believe it?”

I did see it because I’m subscribed to a bunch of UFO newsletters, but Freddie’s tone makes it clear he thinks the whole thing is ridiculous, so I shake my head. I don’t want to get a reputation as the weird human that believes in aliens. Even though they’re for sure real and the pop star’s story has been corroborated with multiple witnesses and similar experiences from other abductees. “I didn’t. Did you hear what I said?”

Freddie shakes his head and sets the magazine down to focus fully on me. “No, sorry. What’s the issue, boss?”

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