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‘You are doing it wrong.’
A deep voice startles you: you turn, searching the early evening twilight for the source. You spot a figure resting a shoulder against a tree a few feet away, one foot casually crossed over the other. The stranger is watching you intently, but is making no threatening moves, clearly he is just curious.
You scowl at him and turn away; bending back to your task, you don’t need his help or opinion.
‘I said you are doing it wrong,’ his voice is rich but soft, each syllable curt and pronounced indicating English is perhaps not his first language but he still sounds so smugly arrogant that you are tempted to punch him.
‘I am doing fine on my own.’
The man snorts, a derisive noise through his nose. You hear the faintest rustle of the grass as he glides from his position towards you, if you hadn’t already know he was there and what to listen for you doubt you would have heard him approach if he did wish you harm.
He is suddenly beside you and you feel slightly nervous at his close proximity, he is big, much bigger than you, broad shoulders and thick waist, a towering wall of muscle and power.
‘Do you always creep about in the woods?’ You snap, fear makes you a little cagey and sharper than you usually are.
The stranger seems almost amused, ‘Creep?’
‘Sneak about, spy on people.’
‘I wasn’t spying, I often hunt in this area and I spotted you, I was only watching.’
He reaches out and you almost flinch but he takes the trap gently from your hands and sets it, before bending to place it on the ground.
‘Hey, I was doing that!’ You attempt to protest.
‘Not very successfully,’ is his only reply as he finished the task you had started.
He looks at you, expectantly, much like a puppy that has done a good deed and is looking for a reward. You scowl at him but manage a less than gracious, ‘thank you.’ He did after all do it much more quickly than you were.
Now that he is beside you, you get a closer look at him; tall and broad, rich raven black hair, sharp cheekbones, strong nose and chin with deep warm chocolate coloured eyes. You notice he is a native of this land but is dressed unusually, in a white tunic with cowl. Well he certainly wasn’t too bad to look at, your brain tells you, and he has definitely piped your curiosity.
‘Who are you?’
‘I told you, I hunt in these woods, my name is Ratohnhaké ton.’
‘Uh, Ray-doo-er…’
He sighs a little exasperatedly, rolling his eyes, ‘Connor, if that is easier.’
You give him a slightly nod and a small smile, ‘Connor, then.’
He waves a farewell and turns, sliding silently back into the trees where you assume he must have appeared from. You grin as you sneak a quick glance at his ass as he walks away. Maybe you should come out into the territories more often; perhaps stumbling across attractive men is a regular occurrence out here?
Finishing your tasks, it is time to leave. As you are packing up your things and aim to head home a large cracking noise stops you. You wonder if your friend from earlier has come back. Turning, you scan the area all around. Seeing nothing in the dim light, you begin wondering just what made that noise.
You don’t like to admit it, but you screamed when a large black mass of fur appeared in your vision. Stumbling backwards in shock you almost trip as you attempt to withdraw from a deafening roar and sharp dagger-like fangs. Breath hitching in fear, you can’t even manage to scream anymore as your paralysed mind tried to come up with a plan.
Something else streaks across your vision in a blur of speed and motion, you can’t quite make out the tangle of white and blue, it all happens so fast; roaring, grunting, a shriek fills the air and you wince in pain at the horrible sound.
Removing your hands from your ears, the silence in the forest now seems deafening. A mass of black fur lies collapsed on the grass, blood splattered vividly across the green and soaking in puddles into the ground.
A face appears in front of yours. Your helper from earlier has returned and it seems that he has fought off your attacker all by himself. You are slightly impressed by that feat. He is standing close, you catch sight of small blood flecks across his white tunic, the knife he has tucked back into the waistband of his trousers. His arms are reaching out, gently holding your elbows and stilling your shaking hands.
‘Are you alright?’ His voice is low, soft, he seems concerned.
You must be a little shocked, your voice sounds a little hollow in your ears, ‘Yeah I’m fine.’
‘It’s-it’s a bear!’
His lip quirks slightly in amusement, ‘Well we are in the forest.’
You would come back with a sarcastic retort but you think you may still be in shock from your close encounter. Your knees feel like jelly and you are breathing hard. Your brain is telling you that you need to sit down.
Clearly your rescuer thinks you are about to faint as he steps in closer, his grip tightening as you attempted to sink down to sit on the ground. Instead of lowering you he pulls you in close, wrapping arms around you until your face is pressed against his chest.
He is solid and warm, the fabric of his clothing slightly scratching your cheek, you can feel the heat of his body and the rhythmic beating of his heart in your ear.
You are not prone to hysterics and you refuse you cry but there is something comforting about his hold on you, enveloped in warmth and surrounded by strong arms. You inhale deeply, breathing in the scent of fresh pine and musky fur along with an underlying smell that is inherently male and masculine. You allow yourself small comfort in his embrace before pulling away, feeling slightly silly.
Gazing up at him, you notice he seems concerned. You can’t meet the intense look in those brown eyes anymore; Connor seems to be staring right through you, his expression curious, lips too full and kissable, face a perfect sculpture. Dropping your eyes from him you glance downward, focusing on the blood on his tunic.
‘We should not waste this,’ he murmurs before pulling away.
You watch him skin the bear and take his trophies, bone and blood splatter all that is left now from the impressive beast that roams the area.
Connor grabs your elbow, ushering you with him, ‘Come with me.’
Following him a short way through the woods, you come to a small clearing by the edge of the water. He passes you something to drink, indicating that you should sit and help yourself. You ease yourself down onto a patch of grass, sipping water from his canteen and watching your new found friend busy himself around his woodland camp.
He neatly arranged things and places the new items for storage beside his tent. Connor soon has a small fire crackling merrily beside you, it is not particularly cold even though the sun has now set but the comfort and warmth cheer you.
Connor murmurs to himself as he moves, phrases in a language you cannot understand. It is soothing to your ears. He must be used to his own company, you muse, and he seems content to talk to himself, not really registering your presence.
As he moves towards the water your gaze follows him and you nearly choke on the water that you were drinking. A broad expanse of tanned back meets your eyes. You watch, fascinatedly, at the bunch and strain of muscles just under dark coffee coloured skin as Connor lifts his blood stained cowl and shirt off.
Your realise that your mouth may just be hanging open but you can’t quite form the brain power to do anything about it as he wades in to the water in nothing but his trousers, other clothing bunched in his arms.
Connor ripples the surface as he bends to wet his stained clothing, scrubbing at it to remove the stains from the earlier attack. He sinks further into the water cleaning any residue of his skin, surfacing in a cascade of ice cold water flowing off his torso.
My god! Your brain has taken a holiday of any kind of eloquent speech, as he turns and wades back out. You can’t help but stare at the rivulets of water running down his chest and thighs, the tight wet fabric of his trousers now clinging to him like a second skin, every muscle, every tendon, every curve now distinctly outlined in dark wet fabric.
His muscles in his forearms flex alarmingly as he squeezes the water from his clothing, shaking off a few stray drips as he pads back across the grass towards you. He is attractive your brain screams at you, so incredibly attractive, where on earth did this practical god come from?
‘Something wrong?’
His voice holds nothing but concern. You make a small squeaking noise in your throat and tear your eyes, finally, from the glorious show in front of you. You shake your head, murmuring a small no, as you don’t quite trust your treacherous mouth and are disgusted with the indecently dirty thoughts your brain is currently churning.
Glancing up from your sitting position your eye catches a small bead of water making its way from the crook of his neck, across his collar bone and down front of his torso. Your eye follows its path eagerly and you unconsciously lick your lips from a desire to drink your fill of the water from his skin.
Tentatively you reach out, gripping his outstretched hands, you begin running your hands along his forearms, his skin is cool and damp and you can feel the muscles playing just under the surface. He kneels; face now level with yours and mouth mere inches away.
Conner looks slightly puzzled, perhaps he thinks the shock of the attack is still affecting you but right at this moment the only think affecting you is the spark of unadulterated arousal running through your body.
Your hands stop wandering on his upper arms, the bicep flexes under your touch. Leaning forwards, you close the last few inches, your lips connecting with the full utterly kissable soft ones of Connor’s.
He doesn’t move as your lips press more forcefully against this, seeming slightly in shock himself. Perhaps taken aback by your forwardness? Yet he makes no move to respond to your exploration but he does not pull away, stilling passively under you.
Running your tongue along his bottom lip, his lips instinctively part which allows you to slide your tongue into his mouth. Your tongues begin a delicate dance, and he responds, jaw flexing under yours and mouth working together with yours.
He pulls away, holding you at arm’s length. His eyes are racking over your face taking in your slightly parted lips, your eyes dilated with lust, you notice he seems hesitant, unsure. Perhaps he is looking for some sign you are ok or permission. You don’t know why he is hesitating, in your mind you have made it perfectly clear what you want; he has all the permission to have you in any way possible.
Leaning forward you voice your need, ‘Please’ you whisper softly.
His kissed take your breath away, lips seeking yours again they are now much more insistent and demanding. Hands slide from your arms to your waist and your kiss deepens the touch electric even through the fabric of your clothing.
Connor sinks backwards from the balls of his feet into a sitting position, pulling you forwards with him. You suddenly find yourself in his lap, the wetness from his own trousers and body soaking through your own.
Shivering slightly, you are not sure if it’s from the cold, damp clothing or the small circles his increasingly wandering hands are trailing on your body.
Connor’s lips drag themselves away from yours and you sight faintly in protest, but the torment is short lived as he places warm open mouthed kisses along your jawline to your neck. Your hands wander up from heir position on his shoulders to tangle in his hair. It is dry, indicating he never submerged himself fully in the water, and extremely soft under your fingers. Loosening the dark locks from its pony tail, his hair flows around his shoulders.
A fiery line of pleasure descends from your neck; along your collar as his mouth continues is expert exploration of your body. Your skin tingles under his touch, raising goosebumps as he nuzzles your breasts through your clothing.
You gasp as warm fingers slid under your top, coming into contact with bare skin they begin walking up your spine. You can’t help the buck of your hips against him as your body writhes in his lap. Conner hisses a few choice words at the sensation, his fingers digging into your skin slightly and nails drawing small red lines down your back.
Sitting in his lap you can feel his arousal, tightly confined by his trousers it is still tightly pressed against the front of your body, rubbing your most intimate area. You long to remove the few layers of clothing between you, to have his naked skin pressed along yours and to finally have him buried inside you as far as he can go.
Connor slides your top up and over your head, exposing your breasts to the chill of the air and you shiver nipples hardening. His mouth wanders over your exposed skin, heating it with his mouth; he sucks as much flesh into his mouth as he can, teeth sinking in gently before pulling back.
Connor’s tongue circles the areola of your right breast, the soft pad of his tongue massaging the sensitive skin. He tugs on your nipple gently with his teeth and you could swear you felt the pull lower in your anatomy. His pressure increased until it is almost painful and you need to beg him to stop, at which point he turns and lavished the same attention on the other breast.
Heat is pooling in your groin as you continue to buck against the front of his body, your underwear is damp and every rub of your clothing is achingly arousing. You can’t take any more of his sweet torture and are eager to move things along. Standing quickly, Connor gazes up at your from his sitting position as you quickly shirk out the rest of your clothing.
His gaze wanders up your naked body, you feel slightly self-conscious in the open air, naked in front of a relatively strange man but he licks his lips, his expression dark and expectant. He kisses your knee, the only area he can reach from sitting before easing himself up on to his own knees. Connor’s warm mouth trails a path of kisses up from your knee, along the inside of your thigh. You moan in frustration as he comes to the apex between your legs only to skip by the area demanding his attention, to tease playfully down your other leg.
You whimper in frustration as his hot breath blows across your pubic hair, he places a gentle kiss on your outer lips tongue brushing your clit ever so lightly and briefly. He stands and you are disappointed he didn’t follow through; you wonder what his skilful mouth may be able to do.
Unlacing the front of his trousers, Connor hooks fingers into the waist tugs downwards. Completely naked, he is a gloriously wonderful sight; your gaze is drawn down the hard, flat expanse of stomach to the darker skin between his legs. Free of his clothing his erection stands out from a thick dark patch of hair between his legs and you have an overwhelming urge to see what the texture of that skin is like in your mouth.
Your lips find their way to his chest as he kicks away the trousers; you lick and nibble your way down his body savouring the taste of his skin. The grass is cool under your knees as you are now at the prefect height for his groin. Your hands wander to his hips caressing his sides, his stiff cock brushes your cheek causing a small moan to escape from Connor’s lips. The sound encourages you, his eagerness for you and your power over him a turn on as you glance up to find his eyes dark and hooded.
Reaching your tongue out, you run it the length of his cock from base to tip, the skin velvety soft and silky. You place a kiss on the tip and Connor’s hips jerk forward automatically, you can feel his thighs shaking under your hands.
You suck the smooth head into your mouth, lapping at it with the pad of your tongue, Connor growls above you as you caress the flesh in your mouth tasting the slightly sharp salty tang of pre-cum the oozes slightly from the tip. The skin moves under your lips as you suck more of his cock into your mouth.
He pulls away sharply, forcing you to release his manhood from your mouth with a small wet pop. You have just got started and are slightly disappointed but Connor drags you to your feet, lips demanding a sharp bruising kiss as he then half drags you towards the bedding laid out at his camp.
Pushing you onto your back, Connor’s warm, solid body is soon covering yours. Hot and hard, all trace of the water from earlier now gone as his soft skin slides along yours. This is wonderful, you relish in the weight of a man’s body covering your own. You widen your legs to make room for him and Connor slips between them, settling in a comfy position, resting his weight just off of you on one elbow.
A strong, warm hand caresses your skin. Starting at your neck, it massages downward as your body bucks up against his looking for friction to help ease the heightening arousal in you. As you buck upwards your clit scrapes along his hip and you cry out in pleasure. Eagerly you move your body more against his, rubbing back and forth breathing heavily into his mouth.
Connors hand cups a breast, weighing the heavy flesh in his palm before continuing to caress downwards. He skims across your stomach before diving between your legs. Your thighs instinctively close together at the sensation but he forces them further apart with his hand, fingers slipping easily through your folds.
You are completely dripping wet already, he wouldn’t need to touch you, you are pretty sure you would come if he simply drove that hard cock into you but he continues his probing. Connor’s index finger runs gently over your clit, massaging in small circles. The pressure ever increasing, you wonder is he is doing it on purpose in time with the actions of his mouth, his tongue dancing and circling yours as his fingers play across you.
Gasping against his mouth, your back arches as his dexterous fingers wander lower, finding the entrance to your body and sliding inside. Your inner muscles tighten around his invasion, probing digits caressing your inner walls sending waves of pleasure up your spine.
Your arms enclose around his shoulders, clinging onto him as if he is the only solid thing in the word. His fingers begin sliding in and out in a slow rhythmic dance as he presses the heel of his palm against your clit and rubs.
Your body has soon lost all control and rhythm, any sense of propriety gone as you buck against him shamelessly, so close to climax, so very close.
His lips are working on your neck, your lips close to his ear as you offer encouragement he doesn’t need, word pouring in streams from your mouth ‘yes-please-Connor-yes-more-Connor-harderfasterdontstop!’
Connors fingers work fast, his palm digging into you firmer as his head dips to your breast, latching onto a nipple and sucking firmly.
Gasping, you come around him, calling his name into the dark, night time sky, muscles quivering and thighs’ twitching as your body closes in on itself, sending waves of pleasure throughout.
Happy and sated you melt bonelessly back onto the fur bedding as Connor carefully removes his fingers from your body, your lower muscles aching in an entirely pleasant way from the intense orgasm he has just given you.
Lips meet yours as you run your hands through his hair, his hands wandering to your hip. It’s his turn now, his cock hard and demanding attention he slides against the front of your body as shifts position.
One leg wraps around his waist as he sinks himself into your warm, wet, body, fully sheathed in one long thrust. The sensation is delicious; you fit so well together, body stretching to accommodate his as you join in hat age old dance.
He is eager, without preamble his hips flex, starting out in a fairly fast pace, he sets a brutal rhythm. It is all you can do to raise your hips to meet him as his body pistons into yours, his lips and teeth on your neck. You rank nails down his back, Connor doesn’t seem to mind, lost in the sensations of your body, his fingers digging into your hip enough that you know there will be bruises there tomorrow.
Connor pulls away sharply. In a sudden display of strength and dominance you find yourself flipped over onto your stomach. He pulls you to your hands and knees before position himself on his knees behind and entering you swiftly.
Crying out in pleasure, you voice this wonderful new sensation; he is sharper from this angle, seemingly bigger. His hips smack into your backside, sending echoing slaps of skin on skin thought he night air.
You can hear his heavy breath behind you; he growls as he leans forward, covering the back of your body with the front of his own, Connor licks a wet trail up your spine before sinking teeth gently into the back of your neck. Your body is responding to the dominance of his, eagerly pushing backwards now to meet his thrusts.
Your arms cannot support you through his continuous assault; his hands on your back push you forward. Face down and backside in the air, you sink your teeth into the cloth below you for something, anything, to hold onto and anchor you as Connor fucks you with a reckless abandon.
He finishes, an almost howl rising from his throat as his hips still and cock twitches; cum smearing down your thighs. Connor collapses behind you, pulling you both down, he wraps his body around yours. Wrapped in the warmth of his arms, he pulls you into his chest, the hairs on his chest and stomach tickling your back slightly.
His breathing is laboured and your own not much better, as the pair of you snuggle down into fur blankets to ward of the chill of cooling sweat and other bodily fluids. Connor nuzzles the back of your neck, placing playful kisses along your shoulders and you both drowse, sleepily.
His voice drifts gently over you are you contemplate sleep under the stars, wrapped in the solid warmth of him.
‘If that is your idea of thank you then you can get yourself into trouble more often.’
~End