The passing around of the taco would go on and on. Each taco lasted an average of about five bites from five different people before I would carefully prepare a new one to pass around. As I did so I felt myself transforming, taking on the actual identity of the taco, becoming this sacred taco which held the authority to grant absolution to everyone who partook in its zesty, savory flavors. The crippled, the blind, the one-legged and those missing fingers would all bite into the taco as I held it out to their waiting, hungry mouths. They would bend down and look up into my hairy face with their expressions gnarled with longing, their eyes wide and hopeful. They would bite into the crunchy shell and the salsa would splatter like blood. The sour cream would cover their lips like serene, succulent ejaculate and though they would not regain their missing limbs, at least for a brief period during this mystical ceremony they would connect to their primal spirit which, existing even beyond their soul was infinite in its grandeur, infallible in its perfection and could never be touched or harmed by the likes of the world.

My small little gig was quickly becoming a headlining show in itself and there was one man, a trapeze art named El Taquito, who began hanging around the outer periphery of the crowd during taco communion. He was a Mexican immigrant, very muscular and good-looking. He had been a member of the carnival's Big Tent show as long as I had been traveling with the carnival. El Taquito was able to masturbate his long, thick cock during his trapeze acts, to the amazement of all witnesses. He would fly through the air with his hard cock in his hand, doing flips and waving at the crowd as he swung from one high-bar to the other and he had acquired his own little cult of adoring female fans who would sit in the stands hoping, praying to the their respective Gods and Goddesses that when El Taquito ejaculated way high up in the air splatters of his semen would fall down and touch them and make their cheeks wet with his holy sperm-soaked grace.

I always made it a point during El Taquito's shows to sit in the midst of these star-struck, hysterical women because they would often slip into neurotic, delirious fits of nyphomanic ecstasy the closer El Taquito came to cumming. On more than one occasion I was the quite content benefactor of these women's impossible impulses because, of course, El Taquito was too high up in the air for them to suck his cock and they would always eventually realize that a handsome werewolf was sitting right next to them. And often I would already have my thick, throbbing werewolf cock in my hands, bulging and dripping pre-cum, just waiting to be sucked upon.