Riding Red is an Interspecies and Paranormal Erotica short story - M/F. This erotica short story contains explicit content, erotic situations, graphic language and is suitable for readers 18 and over.In this delicious take on the traditional fairy tale, a voluptuous blonde named Red takes a shortcut through the woods on her way to visit her grandmother. She is more than familiar with the story of the wolven folk who occupy the woods, but instead of being scared, she’s intrigued. She has done some exploring with werewolves before and knows there was and also knows that she has nothing to be afraid of; in fact, she’s quite turned on by them. On her way to grandma’s house, she meets a hunky and quite naked werewolf who casually flirts with her. She is interested in him as well, and accepts his advances. She proves that she can give as good as she gets. This is no story for the faint of heart or for small children.Excerpt:From my early childhood onward, my mother had warned me to stay out of the woods. She told me that the forests just beyond the road were populated by a race of wolf-people and that they were a bad influence. For a long time, I didn’t believe her.It wasn’t until my rebellious teenage years that I grew bold enough to disrespect mother’s wishes. To my astonishment, I found that the wolf-people did exist. I conversed with them, ran with them, got high with them. I can’t say for sure whether or not the wolves are a bad influence, but they definitely helped with my stress level.Wolven society was closer to that of humans than that of wolves, though far more relaxed. They lived among the trees, but they also built structures just beyond the dense wall of foliage that separates their world from ours. There are no roads, only paths, because the wolf-folk walk or run everywhere. They also happened to be nudists, each and every one. Wolves only wore clothing when leaving the woods to attempt to mingle with humans. I don’t know if wolf-people live everywhere or if their population is confined to just one stretch of forest, but they’re quite real here.A week after my nineteenth birthday, I decided to visit my grandmother. She lived on the other side of the forest, and I insisted on going alone. Mother warned me again to stay out of the woods as I was leaving. I promised her I would, but promises are made to be broken.