Mating with Mothman by MrJ


Fluttering Through Love, Lust, and Legend

Mating with Mothman tells the story of May Staunton, who moves to the seemingly tranquil town of Springdale to escape her chaotic city life. Expecting peace, she instead discovers a place brimming with eerie legends and concealed mysteries. Her mundane expectations are upended when she meets the enigmatic Mothman, a cryptic and captivating figure whose presence blurs the boundary between man and monster. As May becomes entangled in a forbidden romance with this otherworldly being, her life takes a thrilling turn, embroiling her in a passionate yet perilous love affair.

This novel intertwines a pulse-pounding romance with supernatural suspense, drawing readers into a darkly fantastical world where myth and reality intertwine. The narrative is steeped in a tantalizing atmosphere of shadows and secrets, exploring intense scenes of desire while unraveling the enigmatic essence of the Mothman. Through her harrowing journey, May evolves, facing both her deepest fears and most profound longings, culminating in a gripping tale where the terrors of the heart rival the monstrous horrors lurking in the shadows.


Excerpt from Mating with Mothman © Copyright 2024 MrJ


The shiny, navy blue truck that pulled her into the driveway was comfortable enough, even on the rough dirt roads surrounding Springdale. All the same, May was glad to step out. It had been a long trip from home. The mud squishing beneath the heels of her simple brown boots was to be expected; a steady drizzle had been haunting her for hours. The autumn rains had transformed the sandy ground into a sodden quagmire of wet leaves and mud that sucked at her soles and splattered all over her jeans.

The sky above was not any better. A somber blanket of gray clouds hid the sun and tempered what little optimism she was able to muster. She had reached the promised land of family and free rent. That should count for something. Just across the muddy yard was Aunt Randa's home, Baker Manor; a one-story colonial-style building of gray granite with a reddish-brown slate roof. It was a beautiful house, though a simple hedge and a few flower pots on the porch were the only visible attempts at landscaping. It was to be her home in the countryside for the foreseeable future, until she’d saved up enough for a house, or the down payment at least.

May took in the scene with a poorly veiled distaste, struggling to keep her sighs silent as her cousin Frank unloaded her boxes from the back of the truck.

“A little help here!” he called, staggering under the weight of her largest suitcase.

“Oh, sorry,” May said, hurrying to lend him a hand. Not knowing what to expect from life in the countryside, and not particularly wanting to rent a storage unit, she had brought just about all of her possessions with her. It was heavy enough to shift the truck's alignment when driven, at least according to her cousin.

“So, where's Aunt Randa?” she asked. “I was expecting her at the airport,”

“She's out of town for a few days,” Frank replied with a shrug, showcasing his broad shoulders, and bulging biceps while holding a bag almost as big as her. “Fundraising or some shit, I don’t know. She has some meetings in the city and is apparently staying in a hotel in between.”

They continued to drag boxes and bags from the trunk to the porch when they heard voices approaching upstairs. They looked up to see a skinny blonde girl in tight jeans and a rumpled white crop top. It was hard to miss her after she burst through the door of the balcony above them, shrieking with laughter. Her hair was a tangled mess and her eyes wild, but in a happy way.

Once those eyes caught sight of the truck, she stopped to stare.

A moment later, a young man with long, unkempt black hair followed her out, smiling softly and beginning to say something until he noticed what had caught her attention. May could not help but wonder how the cold air wasn’t killing him, standing out in the rain shirtless. Maybe it was, maybe that’s why he wrapped his arms around the girl and pulled her into his muscled torso. He even nuzzled his face hungrily into her neck.

“Hey Mary!” Frank called up from the yard. “Having fun?”

“Fraaank!” she called back, slightly slurred. “There's enough fun for everyone,” she teased, though when her companion’s huge hands came up to grope her breasts, she pulled away, still smiling as she playfully whacked him in the head.

“Come on, Ed, be nice. We got a guest to welcome, you horny bastard,” Frank called back.

“I can see that,” Mary observed with a nod toward May. “Who is this one? Can't say I've seen her before.” She leaned forward for a closer look, swaying precariously over the front rail. Between her swaying and her broad smile, even a child could tell she was drunk.

“She's not one of my guests,” Frank protested, turning to May who had stopped to watch the conversation, happy for an excuse to take a break from carrying the heavy bags. “She's just a cousin from the city, she’s using the family’s ‘vast political connections’ to get a job at the clinic,” he said with a friendly blink in May’s direction. He turned back to cast an accusing look at his brother. “And she would be settled already if my damn brother would come down from his castle and lend a hand! Seriously man, don’t make me carry all this stuff myself.”

Ed finally lifted his head, bypassing his brother to fix his gaze on May, his eyes steady and appraising. He looked for what seemed like a long time, his deep gray eyes scanning her from head to toe. It made her feel squeamish, and she struggled not to look away, blushing. Both of the twins shared a face, both frustratingly handsome with strong jaws.

Frank’s looked rather grimy and rough. Ed’s was smooth and clean shaven.

“Hello. . . cousin,” he eventually said. His stare became somehow more intense with these words. She felt uneasy. “Welcome to the family,” he said with a voice devoid of any emotion while squeezing his girl's breasts. It was enough to make May flinch. Anger, that was her first emotion, then indignation, and disgust at his vulgarity and to his blood cousin no less! It made her worry about just how far south she had traveled, and just how far he might take it. A sudden tingling feeling washed over her loins, staring up at that muscular, half-naked man as he shamelessly felt up his girlfriend right on the balcony for God and all else to see. Unable to bear the scuzzy tension any longer, she flushed a deep red and turned around, hurrying back to the truck for another bag.

“Come on, Mary, let's go meet my cousin,” Ed said, finally heading inside and downstairs.

They met in the foyer as she dragged the last of her suitcases from the porch and out of the rain. Frank introduced them. “Ed, meet May, our cousin. May, meet Ed, the ugly twin, and his . . . um . . . Mary,”

“Hello, Frank's cousin” Mary slurred. May couldn’t help but notice how out of place the massive bosom was compared to the rest of her small frame. “It's nice to meet you,” she added. No move was made to shake hands or anything of the sort; she just stood smiling with those enormous front teeth. Combined with her plump, heavily freckled cheeks, she looked like a human-sized bunny dressed up in girls clothing.

May tried not to think of it; certainly she’d never say anything so horrible!

Ed was identical to his brother down to the cleft in their chins and slightly jagged noses. That is to say, again, he was gorgeous. Not less so with the dark, angry air he carried. It was such a contrast to how friendly and easygoing Frank had been since the moment he picked her up. Combined with the smoldering gray eyes, he was still making her tingly and wet, as shameful as that felt.

He was clearly ogling her, taking in the shape of her hips and chest. “Hello, Ed,” she said timidly, trying to ignore his look, “It's nice to meet you.”

“The pleasure is all mine,” he answered, starkly contrasting with the indifferent tone of his voice. The cold, detached face wasn’t any more comforting, or any less attractive. It was a relief when he immediately walked away with his girl in tow, his hand drifting down to feel her butt.

She turned to Frank, looking confused. He only gave her a careless shrug and walked out of the room, dragging her suitcases behind him. The inside was markedly different from the yard. Furnished with artisan carved ebony, mahogany, and even ivory in some places. The cushions were soft and the den cozy, especially with the blazing fire in the hearth.

If she hadn’t been so nervous, the sight might have made her smile. It was a beautiful house. After Frank helped get all her bags up to the bedroom she was borrowing and showed her the bathroom, suggesting a hot bath, she couldn't help but let out a faint smile. It sounded divine after all the rain she’d endured, and it was kind of him to let her go first, being just as wet and cold. The upstairs bathroom was no less beautiful or comfortable than the rest of the imposing house. The wide white tub submerged her, slowly making her aching limbs relax.

Dinner was simple, but delicious as well. A hearty soup with fresh homemade bread, and a pie for dessert to boot. It was better than what she had eaten in nursing college by a wide margin. It made her wonder where the food had even come from. She would have assumed Mary, in lack of a better alternative. She seriously doubted that her aunt spent any time on housework. Frank only half-heartedly tried to make conversation about university. It was just as well, she did not mind the lack of chatter. Ed appeared quite content with whatever he was doing under the table that made his drunk friend squee and blush during their meal. This was one of the stronger contributing factors to May’s lack of motivation for polite conversing.

May ended up leaving before she was full, finishing her soup and taking a large piece of bread as she scampered out of the room. She nibbled thoughtfully on the bread while wandering through the house, looking at the odd, old ornaments here and there. A den that she had not passed through on the way in had an even larger hearth, almost as wide as it was long and with an expensive looking buffalo rug to boot.

She admired the dim, but beautiful room as she ate, not noticing until the bread was gone where she stood. The dark fur beneath her was covered in whitish bread crumbs, and it made her cringe immediately at the sort of impression she was cultivating, making such a mess. After a moment of thought, she called out, “Frank, where’s the vacuum? I made a . . . small mess.”

“Eh don’t worry about it, Maggie’ll clean it,” his muffled voice called back from somewhere afar.

“Maggie?” May asked.

As if in response to the word, a slender woman appeared. She was older, May noted, in her early sixties by her estimate. She stood out from the others with her nut-brown skin and long gray hair. Also distinguishing herself from the rest by having her hair tightly bound in a work knot, not to mention the old-timey dress. Despite her slightly shriveled limbs and wrinkled features, she seemed to carry the vacuum without trouble, saying nothing, only smiling faintly as May stared. It just felt wrong to watch a woman nearly three-times her age clean up after her, but she couldn’t think of anything to say.

“S-sorry about that, I wasn’t thinking,” she eventually stammered, earning a soft smile from the clearly seasoned woman. Despite her age, Maggie’s eyes were clear and lucid. One of those gentle gazes that immediately put her at ease. “Did you bake that bread; it was delicious!” she praised, earning a low chuckle.

“Yes, I cook the meals here,” she admitted, voice barely above a whisper, just a little strained even with her smile. “You’re still standing on the rug, dear.”

“Oh God, sorry, uh, let me get out of your way,” May agreed, backing up a few steps. “It’s a beautiful house, beautifully kept, I mean, uh . . . you do very good work!”

“Thank you. I take pride in my work, caring for the house, and those boys.” It might have been her imagination, but May could swear her voice fell a bit further at the end of that sentence.

“Yeah they seem . . . Frank’s real nice!” she was quick to point out. “You’ve known them a while?”

“I’ve worked here since long before they were born,” she quipped, chuckling again at the widening of the new guest’s eyes. “They’re good kids, both of them. I know Ed is cold and . . . angry, he-he’s been dealing with some difficult times lately, but you don’t have to worry about him. He would never hurt you,” she assured, reading the young woman’s mind. At least that was May’s initial thought. More likely she’d overheard some of their conversing from wherever she was.

“Well . . . thank you, i-it’s a little frightening, being so far from home with two strange men.”

“Of course; now you should get some rest, find something better to do then watch an old crone work at least,” she insisted, flooding the room with the noisy vacuum, just in case May didn’t get the hint. She did. She walked away from the conversation with a smile, relieved for the new information and the new acquaintance.

Now full, warm, and far less stressed, she headed for bed.

The utter contentment she had lying down between the slightly stiff, pressed sheets was soured quickly. The sounds of Mary's shuddering moans drifting in from the room across the hallway brought the discomfort back tenfold. It was too late to crank the volume on anything, and her books were not distracting enough to drown out the guttural sounds of pleasure.

It was hours before she slept.


The sun was just barely in the sky and already May was on her way to work. The dim morning air formed a thick mist as the black Ford lurched and wobbled down the rough dirt road leading to the county’s only clinic. May sat quietly for most of the ride, her nerves plain on her face as she clutched tightly to her seatbelt, trying not to feel the jolts to her spine each time the car jerked from the potholes in the road

Aunt Randa did not seem to notice. Her eyes remained fixed ahead on the road with an irritated look, her face pristine only because of the caked-on makeup hiding her wrinkles. The view of her shriveled hands on the steering wheel made that all too clear. She had been back in town for three days, and all she talked about was the ongoing congressional election; that or all the things that needed fixing in Springdale. She had barely even greeted May. At the present moment, the poor road conditions were the subject so much more important than her beginning her first day of a completely new job in a completely unfamiliar town.

“Can you see the condition of this road?” she complained. “The lumberjacks and their big trucks come all the way from Wood's End, fell our trees, wreck our roads, and don’t pay a single red cent to the local council for reconstruction!” She turned to May, words sharp. “Do you think that's fair, dear?”

“No,” she offered cautiously, not quite expecting to be dragged into the monologue. “No ma'am, it's not,” she managed, lapsing back into her nervous silence. She stared out the window at the gray, somber sky, a fair reflection of her own melancholic mood. She already hated this town, with its gloomy skies and cold, wet air. The way every inch of earth was either wet grass, a muddy road, or a farm field made her skin crawl. The sheer emptiness of the countryside unnerved her. Not least of all, the forest, a primeval woodland of giant oaks, birches, firs, and a hundred other species of trees she couldn’t name. They stretched to the right of the road as far as the eyes could see.

It made her hope for more lumberjacks to drive on in, not that she could ever voice that thought.

Aunt Randa nodded in agreement, seeming to barely hear her niece as she launched back into her tirade. “Mark this,” she said with a stony determination etched on her face. “My first act as mayor would be to reinstate the wood taxes from the Union era. These men need to pay the due price for selling our county’s timber!”

“How about dress taxes first, for people who intentionally dress like a cliché hillbilly?” Frank suggested from the back of the car. He leaned upward, getting uncomfortably close as he continued. “Really, May, overalls? You’re not making fun of us inbred country bumpkins, are ya?”

“Language, Frank,” Aunt Randa chided. “Though he's not wrong, dear,” she said looking over May's choice of clothes. “I know this is the countryside and all, but people don't dress like this anymore. Don't you have any of those fancy clothes you big city people usually wear?”

May looked herself over. She wore a maroon-colored shirt and a thick pair of overalls over it. She had dressed trying to fit in, and that made the critiques hurt all the more. Maggie dressed old-timey like!

“This is the way I always dress, ma'am,” she lied weakly. “It's comfortable.”

“I know, dear,” said Aunt Randa in her usual nice-aunty voice. “It's just that it’s unusual; it’ll get people talking about you and our family, and I really don’t need that right now with the election so close,” she explained, softening the slightest bit as May slouched in on herself. “I mean, surely the boys would be more responsive if you dressed prettier?”

The remark made her squeamish, and she sank into herself yet further, feeling even more miserable.

“Maybe she doesn't like boys,” Frank defended. “Maybe she's more of a soft butch.”

“Oh shut up, Frank!” Aunt Randa snapped, turning to May with a grim look in her eyes. “You do like boys, right?”

She nodded timidly. “Yeah . . . It’s just—

“Oh, good . . . glad to hear that, dear,” her aunt announced merrily while cutting her off. “We'll fix you up yet, turn you into a proper young lady. Then they’ll be eating out of your hand.”

They drove in blessed silence for a while after that remark, passing farms, ranches, and even an apple orchard before they pulled into the Maria Claire’s Memorial Clinic. A simple two-story building of whitewashed sandstone with a marble statue of a praying woman that could only be Saint Maria, kneeling over a water fountain at the front. The giant stone woman was more than a little eerie-looking in the stifling fog.

May gave a polite farewell to her aunt and cousin before heading in the front door, clutching tightly to her various forms and orientation papers.

She had arrived early, and that left her unsure how to react to the empty reception counter. Her shoes echoed off the marble floors as she made her way down and around the steps. Halfway down, she spotted a sign that read nurse's hold above the door. That room was empty, too, except for a lone woman sitting at the counter with her head on the desk. Approaching the counter slowly, and clearing her throat seemed to get her attention.


The sleepy nurse looked up with red, tired eyes, blinking at her through tousled blonde hair.

“Well, you're not Aaron.”

“Uh, yeah, I know,” May replied lamely. She couldn't help but wonder, why is everyone so goddamn strange in this place? Did she not have a boss that would fire her or at least chew her out for sleeping on the job?

“And you're not Joseph, the coffee guy.” May checked to make sure she was, in fact, a girl before replying.

“No, no, I am not the coffee guy,” she returned, daring to sound a little annoyed.

“Yeah, you're prettier by far. So then, who are you?”

May took a deep breath, trying not to let her frustration show.

“I'm May Staunton, the new counter nurse. I was told I’d be starting today,” she explained, annoyed and uncomfortable as she stared at an extremely interesting exit sign above her. There were few things she found more annoying than drawing on a conversation for no reason.

“Oh, that's you?” said the woman while inspecting her closely. “I thought we were getting someone . . . younger,”

“Well, it's me,” May said, fidgeting with a thread that had loosened in the seam of her overalls.

“Cool, I'm Dana,” she replied with a smirk. “My friends call me Dana, at least. Welcome to MCMC!” she offered, finally sounding awake as she extended a pale, slim hand.

May reached to shake it but was interrupted by a second figure. A dark-haired young man with a long, messy beard rose from behind the counter rubbing his head. Seeing that he was naked except for a pair of tight underpants with a conspicuous bulge at the crotch froze May up. She even stumbled back a few steps.

Dana groaned in annoyance of her own, turning her eyes back to the man.

“What are you still doing here?” she demanded, stealing a glance at her watch. “It's almost six-thirty!”

“Wha . . . what?” he stammered, still groggy from sleep. “Where are my clothes?”

“I don’t fucking know; what am I, your mom?” she snapped at him. “Just find them and get out before the doctors arrive; you weren’t even supposed to sleep here!”

May stood aside, watching the whole exchange in mild shock, trying not to stare at the duo as they searched the room. Despite her words, Dana helped him search. May couldn’t bring herself to lend a hand in the searching efforts. It took her full attention not to steal glances at the naked man. He was handsome, in a dad-bod sort of way. His mussed hair and muscled pecs gave a rough edge of beauty, and to her horror, his bulging crotch hanging heavily between his legs kept calling out to her out of the corner of her vision. She was mortified when he caught her staring and flashed a wicked smile back. Blood filled her face, and she turned away yet further to stare at the blank wall.

Thankfully, two minutes later, give or take, Dana’s companion was fully clothed and walking out the office door. A laugh rang out at something she couldn’t hear as his huge hand wrapped around the nurse’s slender waist and then down to grab her butt. The distinct smack of a kiss was the last thing May heard before she strolled back in. “Sorry you had to see that,” Dana said, though her tone was anything but remorseful. “In my defense, nothing ever happens during the night shifts, so sometimes a lady craves a little entertainment.”

“I guess that’s about the only entertainment there is out here,” May replied dryly. “So that was like . . . your boyfriend?”

The other girl laughed like if it was the funniest thing she had ever heard.

“Boyfriend?” she echoed. “Tony’s way too much of a slob, but he gives really good oral, among other things, and that makes him tolerable,” she explained. “Definitely not a boyfriend though. Come along now, I'll show you where to change,” she finished, happy to change the subject as she led her back into the locker room.

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