by Liz K. Lorde
My animalistic qualities pulse through me as I take a step closer to her, narrowing the distance between us to inches. My fingertips are eager and itching to put themselves all over her naked, silky body.
Her skin is the color of cream, and as soon as I place a hand on her left breast to gently squeeze it, I have to fucking gasp for air.
I’ve wanted this moment for so long, and it’s finally happening.
Emma lets out a whimper, but she’s not frightened. She looks timid, naturally…but she also looks eager and ready. She can’t wait to ride her wild fucking stallion—and for me, I can’t wait to tame her, the unruly mare.
My lips find hers. There’s nothing soft or gentle with our passion. I crush her lips with mine.
They’re so full, juicy, red, and delicious. I want more of them. Fuck, I want to devour her.
My right hand rests on the back of her neck, while my left one rests in the gap between her ass and her lower back. This way, I can draw her even closer into me.
We melt into this kiss. Our tongues meet, dance, and duel in unison.
When I pull away, she moans and tries to follow me. But I’ve got other plans.
Chill bumps splash across the skin of her neck as I move south, showering her with hungry, passionate kisses.
Her breath is like a soft breeze on my neck, a cooling sensation taking me down a notch before I erupt with burning longing.
I want to take my time with her. I want it to last forever, to have her touch and her soft moans and sighs linger on my skin and in my ears for as long as eternity lasts.
She fulfills me now, but the thirst is strong, and I know I need an everlasting quench. I’m trembling with shaky hands as I wrap my arms around her tiny, sliver of a waist and her perfect, round hips.
Her curves remind me of the back roads of the mountains I like to wander through in the spring, perfect and winding, leaving an array of surprises behind every fucking turn.
“You are so fucking hot,” I breathe into her neck.
She moans and grabs my hair, running her hands through it before desperately rubbing them down my back.
Finally, she slides her hand across the top shaft of my raging hard cock, giving me endurance and enough stamina to power an electrical grid.
“Tell me I’m beautiful,” she whispers into my ear, making my pulse race.
“You are fucking sexy, beautiful…the most gorgeous woman I’ve ever seen,” I whisper and don’t recognize my own voice.
With one deft movement, I pick her up and take her to the fire place. Sure, we’re creating enough heat between us to power a power station, but we need to lie somewhere, and the bear’s rug’s in front of the crackling fireplace.
As she lies ready for the taking, I stop to feast my eyes on her.
I want to do terrible, wonderful things to her body. I want to make her come so many times that she forgets her name and her eyes glaze over with pleasure.
The wild beast inside of me is about to be unleashed, untamable.
I crouch down on the floor beside her and begin tracing circles around her belly button. She giggles.
“Oh, Dylan,” she moans, and I hear her breathe harder and faster. “Yes…ohhhh…” she continues and those incoherent words are music to my ears.
My fingers slowly shift downward. Her legs open up as if I’ve found the magic key.
Her pussy is bald, aside from a slight tuft of dark hair on the top. I touch it, patting it with my finger and she moans out with erotic energy.
“Just wait,” I tell her, almost in warning. “I’m going to make you cum so hard you are going to shiver with delight.
“I,” she starts but stops again. “Pleaseeee,” she now begs and I know she’s already driven mad with desire.
The heat coming off of her body is sweaty, intense, and charismatic. She smells like sex already, and I’ve barely touched her.
I move between her legs, wanting to go in for the hunt…to prolong the kill.
Emma is mine to savor, mine to hold. I begin gently placing well-arranged kisses on her bare inner thighs, making her squirm. Her hips thrust up toward me, as if demanding for more. Oh, I’ll give her fucking more.
I don’t even realize that I’m trembling, too, wanting this moment so badly—and it’s finally here. Her pussy is practically glowing, it’s shimmering with so much intense amounts of wetness, soaking the bear rug underneath her.
I want to put my lips on her juicy pussy lips, a little flower that’s opening, blossoming right before me. I take a finger first and press it to the swollen part of her outer pussy lips.
She cries with pleasure. Her breathing is frantic, her cheeks are flushed. Her clit is throbbing in the center of her ripe wetness, engorged and begging to be played with.
I push my head between her legs, opening her thighs even further as she spreads with glorifying satisfaction in front of me.
My muscles of steel are quivering, ready to devour that tight, pink flesh between her legs. As my tongue slides between her swollen pussy lips, she moans and arches her back, shaking beneath me.
Primal urges bubble to the surface, and I’m ready to go wild and crazy on this sweet pussy in front of me.
I gulp down some of her sweet, delicious nectar, diving in head first with insatiable, voracious thirst.
She’s moaning and panting softly, as if she’s in erotic ecstasy. My tongue swirls freely over her pussy lips as I push her open with my mouth, aiming to hit her clit and send her over the edge.
The louder she screams with pleasure, the more unhinged I become. This is one fucking wild ride she’s on.
My tongue is sending shivers up her spine as chill bumps prickle exposed on her skin. I stop twirling my tongue around in circles and switch to tender kisses. Then I alternate between kissing and licking.
It won’t be long before she’ll erupt with orgasmic pleasure.
I flick my tongue as she grips the bear rug beneath her, whimpering. That’s when the explosion happens, contained well within her as all the sexual tension pours from her body, out the center of her pussy, and dribbles into my mouth with a gushy, gooey goodness.
I drink every last drop, sucking on her clit until her body stops convulsing.
She’s breathing heavily in the aftermath. Her body is glowing, shimmering, and soaked to the bone with sweat and cum.
“Wow,” she pants and giggles as she recovers. “You are amazing…incredible.”
“Thanks,” I move my face to hers to plant a kiss on her lips. I want her to taste her own pussy juices and savor every last drop just like I did.
“You taste good,” I say as we pull apart, and I give her a devilish grin. “I want you to have your flavor on your tongue.”
“Mmm,” she says, desire flaring in her eyes.
“I want to give you more. I want to make you cum all fucking night,” I tell her and trail a finger over those delicious tits of hers.
She shivers and turns her head toward me. Reflected in her eyes is the same animalistic lust I’m feeling. Intermixed is a tiny hint of anxiety.
But I’ll try and be gentle. I’ll fucking try.
“No argument here,” she says and spreads her legs wide open again, inviting me in to her shimmering, wet, perfect pussy lips.
This time, I won’t be able to exercise restraint.. I’m ready to unleash my primal urges and drive her over the edge to the point of erotic bliss and no return.
I’m ready to drive my cock right into her welcoming pussy.
Emma
Holy shit, is this really happening?
That’s the question flying past my lips. Because, fucking shit, this does not feel real. Not the snow outside, not the warm cabin and the gently crackling fire.
Nothing about this feels real.
It’s like I’m surrounded by a beautiful, angelic light as I try to catch my breath and recover from those waves of orgasm that turned my world—or what I thought was my world—upside down.
Dylan’s
lying there, on the rug, so confident in his space. This is a world he seems to know so well—not just this cabin, but this whole new world of intense, sensual wonders.
And yet he’s just lying there, like what just happened is no big deal.
I can’t keep my eyes off him lying there so casually, like he isn’t some kind of miracle worker who just showed me the light of the heavens on a freaking bearskin rug in front of the fireplace.
“Are you a magician?” I ask.
Dylan laughs.
“I never thought of it that way, but I know a few tricks, some sleight of hand.”
With that, Dylan caresses my thigh, so close to my pussy, which is still reeling from that explosion of joy and lust.
That bright orgasmic light is still wrapped around me.
I want to hold onto this moment; I don’t know when I’ll ever come like that again. Something so deeply amazing can’t happen that often…can it?
“You know what, Dylan? I think you’re a magician. A mountain magician, and you’ve had years to learn all those tricks. I don’t think I could ever catch up.”
Dylan looks at the fire and shakes his head.
“This isn’t some David Blaine shit. It comes more naturally than you might realize.”
I listen to the crackling of the fire and relish the aroma of the cabin. For the first time, I notice details like the earthen scent of the wooden floors, the clean but wild and natural smell of the rug, and the virile musk coming from Dylan.
It’s like I can almost smell his lust radiating from his body. We’re close to each other physically…but it’s not close enough.
I feel like it could never be close enough, but I’d really like to try.
As if having read my mind, Dylan moves toward me and kisses the top of my head before pressing his lips down on my own.
“Show me another trick,” I gently tell this burly mountain magician, whose arm is now resting over me with his palm flat on the rug.
Why do I suddenly feel like pushing him over and showing him a trick?
“A trick of my own,” I add.
“Okay, let’s not call it a trick anymore.”
“Oh.” I giggle when I realize what he means. “I agree.”
“I can start to show you the ropes, so to speak.”
I stare at the fabric of the rug and consider what he could mean.
“It’s a figure of speech,” Dylan he says.
I huff, but I refrain from rolling my eyes. Instead, I lay one hand down on his rippling upper arm and caress the smooth skin and the cement-hard muscles underneath.
I close my eyes and lose myself in the feel of his biceps and triceps, in all the wondrous subtleties of his muscles. It’s like a raised-relief map of some fantastical realm that also happens to be super fucking sexy.
Dylan’s stroking my hair gently. I’m terrified to think what my hair must look like right now. I’m removed from my usual regime of conditioners and my usual shampoo at this point.
Dylan seems to be enjoying it though, moving his hand from my hair and running it down to my shoulder and then to my chest.
The tingling around my nipples steadily grows into full, eager excitement. Dylan keeps his hand around my breasts before moving it slowly back up towards my hair.
I grip his arm tight.
“Okay, where do I begin?” I ask. “I want to learn to be a mountain magician, just like you. Maybe you’ll feel the same magic I felt.”
“I felt magic, too. I’ll tell you a magician’s secret. When you do it right, we’ll both feel it.”
“I don’t know if I can handle that much magic right now,” I say, but I think I could go for a lot more of that magic, and soon.
I almost feel like I don’t need any guidance at this point, that I could just fucking go to town…
However, I know all too well that there aren’t any towns around here. So, in this cabin, it’s time for me to ask Dylan the Big Question.
“Where do I begin?”
Dylan doesn’t answer—at least not at first. I look at him on the rug and study his bare chest and delicious chocolate eyes.
I slowly let my eyes roam up and down his Adonis-like form, covered in wild, untamed hair. His body is the ideal form that manhood is based on. It should be in a fucking museum.
My pussy tingles again. I’m almost back to where I was a few minutes ago, during that magic moment when Dylan’s lips were close to…well, my own.
He finally answers my question with a simple nod in the direction of his chest—but it’s not his chest that he means.
I’ve been focusing on the Renaissance sculpture of the upper half of Dylan’s body that I almost forget what I’ve been craving for a while now.
There it is—bulging and throbbing with what I know is desire.
It looks so big, but I’m not complaining. It’s so fucking big that I want it so fucking bad and nothing else will do.
“What does it feel like?” I whisper, lust coiling in my belly.
“See for yourself. Really, knock yourself out. I’m here, and there’s no hurry.”
I don’t know if I could even put my hand around that giant dick, yet I go with my first instinct—to grab it around the bottom part, near his balls.
I hear Dylan make a small noise in his throat.
“So, that’s a good noise?” I ask.
“Yes,” Dylan lets out.
“Okay, how do I…you know…do what you did?” I ask him. “Is it just, like, taking it right in my mouth? Or like an ice cream cone, or what?” I suddenly feel like an idiot, but I’m too eager to care.
“Like an ice cream cone…huh, I’ve pretty much forgotten that stuff even exists. Alright, start with your tongue. Remember, there’s no hurry.”
I move my head closer to his giant dick. I lick my lips, trying to make sure my tongue is as wet as, well, my pussy has gotten again.
I lick the top of Dylan’s cock like it’s ice cream. He makes another little noise.
“Okay,” Dylan says, “good start, but look at it this way: It’s a hot day, somewhere far away from Vermont—maybe somewhere in the Caribbean, on a beautiful beach. The ice cream’s already starting to melt, and it’s running down the cone. You don’t want it all over your hands, so start at the bottom. Get all of it at the bottom, then slowly make sure you get all of it. Work your way up.”
“I used to get pinot noir ice cream at this place in Gramercy Park,” I mention out of nowhere. “That’s a more appropriate metaphor—wine ice cream. You want to get a nice buzz, so you don’t want any of it to go to waste.”
I start with little licks, using just the tip of my tongue.
“Okay, good.” Dylan’s breathing heavier than I think I’ve ever heard him, making me feel like I just turned the heat on in his body somewhere. “Remember, you want to get all of that, so just the tip of your tongue isn’t enough.”
I press the surface of my tongue against the bottom of Dylan’s giant cock. I lick upwards slightly, just enough to get that imaginary wine ice cream running to the bottom.
“Fan-fucking-tastic,” Dylan says, “fuck fucking ice cream, now you’re doing mountain magic.”
I keep slowly moving my tongue in that direction. I don’t really taste much, mostly I smell that masculine odor that I now associate with Dylan—musky yet clean and a bit piney.
I’m realizing that his scent drives me fucking crazy, especially right now with my tongue pressed against a giant cock, moving slowly upwards.
I don’t stop. I can’t. I lick all the way to the fucking top and then I fucking start over again.
Dylan moans, and I suddenly feel like I’m in a weird dream. I’m so comfortable and excited around this giant dick. I don’t have much experience with cocks, but I feel like this one is the best one to start with.
“Okay,” Dylan says, “try taking it between your lips, into your mouth. Remember, there’s no hurry.”
He says that, but I feel like I’m in a bit of a hurry to brin
g this to the next level. I move my head, taking his cock in slowly.
“That’s right,” Dylan says, “this is fucking magic. You’re a fucking natural…”
He trails off, and I have a feeling he’s unable to give me much more guidance.
I also realize I’m feeling a bit of the magic, too. My fingers are lightly rubbing my cunt, moving in a circular motion around my slippery, wet pussy lips.
I continue to move my tongue around Dylan’s cock as it goes slowly into my mouth. I take as much of it as I can before moving back up, almost letting the entire thing out, except for the tip.
I move back down. Dylan slams this palm against the rug. I repeat the process a few times before I feel a bit of a twitching movement, like the start of an earthquake around Dylan’s cock.
It seems like it’s time to get out of the way, so I push myself up. Globs of pearly, white come spout out like a geyser—not just once, but again and again, each eruption coming out forcefully and traveling further than I can see.
Dylan moans, and I realize I’m moaning, too—and still playing with my pussy.
The magic runs through me again as another climax begins. This time, I come, too, currents of pleasure rolling through me.
Dylan’s head falls onto the rug with such force that I can hear the wood underneath it shudder and creak. He goes limp, breathing heavily.
After that last orgasm, my appetite has only grown stronger. There’s no fucking way I’m done. Not yet.
I look at Dylan who’s on his back. I hope he doesn’t think we’re fucking done, either. I feel insatiable, like a mountain lion with her eyes locked upon her prey.
The fire rising within me is drawing from a bottomless well of desire. I’ve never felt anything like this, but I know exactly what this feeling means.
If there’s a moment I’ve been waiting for, then that moment is at hand. I’m ready to give myself—and my virginity—to Dylan.
The fire in me rages, and I just hope Dylan is willing to take it.
Dylan
“What was that you asked?”
Emma sits up and faces the fire, looking lost in thought.
“When?” she responds without looking at me.
“Just a few minutes ago, you asked if this is real. The answer is, I’m not sure myself.”