She was stickier than ever after her frantic self-pleasuring. She eased herself into the pool, expecting warmth although the steam had dissipated. The chill shocked her. Clearly snow-melt fed Sandman Creek. She explored the rock-strewn banks, but found no sign of any geothermal activity. Very odd, just like the rest of the experience. Somehow, though, she couldn’t muster the energy to worry about it.
Once she became accustomed to the icy temperature, she found the water wonderfully refreshing. When she emerged, the unseasonably balmy air felt delicious on her skin. She dried her feet and crammed them, still bare, into her hiking boots. She couldn’t stand to put her dirty clothes back on. Perhaps she’d wash them in the stream tomorrow.
When she got back to her camp, she took a comb to her unruly mane, easing out the tangles. The fire had subsided to a dull glow. Through breaks in the foliage above, the stars sparkled like shards of diamond.
Sylvie stretched and yawned. On such a fine night, there wasn’t any need for her tent. She crawled naked into her bedroll and let sleep take her. The last thing she remembered was a pair of haunting, familiar gold-flecked eyes.
* * * *
She awoke with the sun on her face. It had to be at least nine—maybe later—if the sun was high enough to make it through the canopy. The air still had a hint of freshness but she could tell it was going to be another hot day.
She really didn’t want to get dressed. It felt so right to be naked. This early in the season, the chances of meeting someone out here, in an official wilderness area, were miniscule. Of course, she might encounter the man from the stream again…
The thought made her heart beat faster. Who was he? Anyway, he’d already seen her body, hadn’t he?
She finally compromised, donning a T-shirt and khaki shorts but no underwear. She planned to hike to Crystal Lake today. She needed some protection against scratches and bug bites on her most delicate parts. As she puttered around the campsite, getting her breakfast and cleaning up, she began to doubt the wisdom of her choice. The soft brush of cotton against bare flesh teased her nipples into tight beads and the crotch of her shorts was already damp.
She wasn’t normally so easily aroused. It must be the effect of the fresh air…not to mention the escape from the stress of her normal life. Jill and Alice would be scandalised, but why should she care? It felt so good, it couldn’t be wrong.
Sylvie looked at her day pack with distaste. On such a sweltering day, she really didn’t want to be weighed down. She peered up at the sky, a bowl of cloudless, brilliant blue. Certainly, there was no chance of rain. After tucking her jack-knife, compass, and a few Band-Aids into one pocket and a couple of granola bars into the other, she hoisted the rest of her gear into a tree to protect it from bears. She set off towards the lake, delightfully unencumbered except for the canteen swung over her shoulder.
Although the blazes marking the trail were obvious, the path was strewn with fallen branches. I must be the first to take this path since last year, she thought, a notion that raised her already-high spirits. She loved the idea of being the only human for miles around.
What about the man in the creek? The recollection should have alarmed her, but it had the opposite effect, magnifying her excitement. Her chest seemed full of helium. Her feet flew along the trail. Her rigid nipples poked through the clinging fabric of her sweat-damp tee. The thrill of being back in nature mingled with a steady buzz of arousal, fed by friction and memory.
Tree shadows told her it was well past noon by the time she reached the high meadow that overlooked Crystal Lake. The lake spread out below, a shimmering expanse of sapphire fringed with emerald. From the city, the hills had looked sere and sun-bleached, but here in the heart of the mountains all was green, save for the scarlet splash of early poppies. Jagged peaks reared in the distance, still clad in snow, almost too bright to look at.
The sun beat down upon her, burning hot but somehow less cruel than in the city. The warmth distilled the fragrances of nature—pine resin and crushed foliage, musty fungus and moist soil. Sylvie filled her lungs. The spicy mountain air was like wine, making her feel drunk, wild, a bit crazy.
She glanced around the clearing. A flock of swifts swirled up from the rippling sea of green into the surrounding trees. Otherwise, all was quiet. She might have been the only person on earth.
Her sweaty clothes clung to her limbs. She wanted to feel the sun on her bare skin. And why not? She was alone, and, with her tawny complexion, she wasn’t at all prone to sunburn.
Shucking off her shorts and shirt, Sylvie stretched out in the tall grass, exposed to the baking sunlight. A stray breeze stirred her hair and tickled her forehead. An insect buzzed overhead, then disappeared. The delicious heat made her languid and sleepy. She allowed her mind to wander.
Sylvie hadn’t intended to think about him, but she couldn’t help herself. With her eyes closed, all she could see was burnished muscle, a swollen cock, powerful hands gripping and squeezing. She saw the frenzied motion of his fingers, raking over his taut skin as if to torture himself. She recalled the pained look on his face, as though pleasure for him was a kind of agony.
As she remembered, she let her own hands trace her curves down to her pussy. The slick folds fluttered around her fingertips and her ocean smell rose to join the scents of grass and flowers. What if he touched her with those strong hands, those knowing fingers? Circling her throbbing clit, she imagined it was the stranger who was kindling her, driving her deeper into fierce desire.
Her cunt was a hungry cavity aching to be filled. It swallowed her fingers, bathing them in hot fluid. She strummed her thumb against her clit while stroking in and out, all the while imagining the stranger pleasuring her. His mouth had been firm and sensual. How would those lips feel pursed around her clit—sucking, kneading, striking sparks? Her pussy was on fire, her sun-heated flesh drenched, ripe and screaming for release.
The pressure built in her belly, coiling tighter with each plunge of her fingers into her welcoming depths. Her nipples throbbed with the energy of arousal, crying out for stimulation. She transferred one hand to alternate between their aching points, giving them what they craved. Lightning shot up her spine and fireworks detonated in her clit. She would come any instant—come under the expert hands of the gorgeous man who had wrung such fierce cries from his own throat. She was coming, coming…
A gasp…and not her own. Her eyes flew open.
“Don’t stop,” he cried. A man loomed over her—a man with a deep tan, a blond ponytail and eyes flecked with gold. The man from the creek.
Embarrassment flooded her. A flush spread like wildfire across her skin. She snatched her hand from her sex. Musk welled up, filling her nostrils. The stranger’s eyes were nailed to her trembling body.
“You don’t need to stop.” He sank to his knees between her splayed feet. “Please—you look so amazing…” He reached out as though to touch her, then stopped himself.
“I know you.” He wore the uniform of the National Park Service, but she’d recognise that powerful frame, that muscular grace, anywhere.
“I’d like to know you,” he murmured. “I’ve never seen anyone so beautiful.” He smiled. It seemed to Sylvie that the sun had been clouded till then and was just beginning to shine. “Don’t be shy. Go ahead and pleasure yourself…”
“I don’t want to,” she told him, unable to look away from those gold-glinting eyes. But she did want to, wanted to stretch and writhe before him, lewd and proud, showing him what her lush body was capable of.
“Touch yourself,” he urged.
“No.” Sylvie propped herself up on her elbows, spreading her thighs wider. “You do it.”
She saw a kind of struggle in his face. She cupped her breasts, offering them, willing to do anything to lure him towards her pussy. He lunged forwards, strong fingers clamping down on her thighs. He was closer now and she could see his sculpted features, a shiny scar on his temple, the fierce gleam in his eyes. His luscious mouth open
ed then closed again. He licked his lips.
“Please,” she begged, holding her weeping pussy open so that he could see the slippery pink folds.
With a strangled moan, he bent his mouth to her soaked sex. She felt his tongue like a lash of fire, streaking through her cleft and then curling round her centre. All at once she was on the edge again, ready to ignite. He sucked her clit into his mouth, prodding it with his tongue. Meanwhile, his fingers kneaded her thighs hard enough to leave bruises.
Her cunt was seething. It would boil over in an instant. The man buried his face deep in her pussy, heedless of his own need to breathe. His nose mashed her aching clit and then everything went white as climax raged through her.
He was still licking as the shocks died away. Sylvie’s pussy fluttered and twitched while the stranger nibbled, stroked, and probed her depths. Usually she was too sensitive to touch herself after an orgasm, but now she found that she craved even more intense sensation. Her hunger had only increased. The cataclysmic surge of pleasure that had rocked her seemed only a step towards a fiercer climax.
The stranger devoured her as though starved for her sustenance. He sucked her labia into his mouth and tongued her hole, sending new sparks racing through her. At the same time, he teased the inside of her thighs and tickled her curly bush.
“More,” she gasped, sinking her fingers into his hair and pressing his face to her cunt. She arched up to give him better access. He responded by reaching beneath her to cradle her butt in his big hands. Now he held her sex to his mouth as though eating a juicy piece of fruit. The strength she sensed in those hands only drove her higher.
Tendrils of fiery pleasure scorched her. She was about to explode once more. She’d never felt anything like this—this kind of heat and urgency—even in her most passionate encounters. Who was this man, who knew her body so well that he could bring her to the brink of release in just a few moments?
Her climax beckoned and she strained towards it, knowing it would be more extreme than the last. He squeezed her ripe ass, obviously enjoying her ample body. Let me carry you, she heard him say, though of course he could not have said anything with his mouth full of her pussy-flesh. Somehow, though, she understood that she needed to relax. She opened wider, letting him in, letting him lead her towards ecstasy.
Don’t fight it. Let go.
Trails of flame licked along her thighs and circled her raging clit. His mouth was a furnace—melting her, refining her into a creature of pure delight.
Her second climax rolled through her like an earthquake. It dragged her down into the dark, sweet core of the earth, washing her with white-hot waves of magna then spitting her into the sky like a blast of volcanic gas.
His tongue was still dancing between her legs when she came to her senses. “Wait,” she gasped. She was not sated yet, not at all, but she wanted more than just his mouth. “Enough…I need your cock. Fuck me!”
“No—I can’t.” His cheeks glistened with wetness from her still-spasming pussy. “I want to, you know I do, but it’s not possible…”
Sylvie scrambled to her knees so they were face to face. She cupped the massive bulge in his groin, trapped in the uniform pants. “I’d say you’re pretty well equipped to do the deed. Don’t keep this all to yourself.” She unzipped his fly, amazed and appalled by her uncharacteristic boldness. Lust had driven out her usual reticence.
His cock was as gorgeous as she remembered—fat, veined, and as bronzed as the rest of him. It lay hot and heavy in her palm. She stroked her finger over the purple bulb, smearing the fluid leaking from the slit. “You want me. You can’t lie.”
“Of course I do.”
“Then take me.” She reached between her legs to gather some of the copious secretions then smeared them over the head and down the rigid shaft.
“No,” he groaned, grabbing at her hands. “Please don’t. Don’t make me come.”
“Ah, but that’s just what I want to do!”
Pulling on his swollen organ, she fell back into the grass, dragging him down on top of her. His knob brushed her clit and she felt herself burst into flame. She shifted beneath his weight, trying to align his cock with her ravenous cunt. He slipped into her for a moment. A wave of hot bliss nearly shattered her.
“Don’t!” He forced himself away from her body and tumbled off to the side. A sense of loss overwhelmed her.
“I need you. I’ve got to have you inside me.”
“No…I’m sorry.” His brows knit into a frown of pain, a shadow of his agonised face the night before. “Forgive me. You’re gorgeous, practically irresistible, but I can’t fuck you…”
“Then go away.” Sylvie grabbed her T-shirt and threw it in his face. “I can’t stand to see you and not have you.” She rolled over, turning her back to him.
“Wait…please. I want…”
She peered over her shoulder. “What do you want?”
“I want you…”
“Then why not take me?”
“You wouldn’t understand. Let me show you, with my hands, with my mouth. That, I can do…”
“Take off your clothes.”
“Uh, I don’t think—”
“Get naked, or get out of here. If I can’t have your cock in my pussy, at least I want it in my mouth.”
“No, that’s not a good idea. I might lose control.”
“Then get out of my sight.”
The man was clearly torn. He rose to his feet, his hands clenched into fists at his sides. Deliberately, Sylvie reclined and let her fingers dabble in her cunt, where they woke echoes of her past climaxes. With her other hand she caressed her breast, rolling the taut nipple between her forefinger and thumb. The bolt of pleasure only made her cunt feel emptier.
The stranger seemed poised between fleeing and jumping her. She hoped that he’d pick the latter.
Finally he began unbuttoning his shirt.
“Hurry up,” Sylvie begged, the raw need in her voice contrasting with her imperious words.
He tossed his shirt aside, prised off his boots then slipped his pants down over his narrow hips. He wore nothing else.
“Oh, yes… Come here.” She smoothed her palm over the matted grass beside her. “Let me taste you.”
He sank to his knees near her head as though he no longer had the strength to stand. Sylvie grasped his cock and swirled her tongue over the bulb. He was hot and salty, like boiling sea water. He groaned. She stroked up and down, the way she’d seen him do in the creek.
“Ahh…”
Sylvie swept her tongue along his hard length, tasting a hint of her own juices. She wanted to bathe him in her wetness but that would have to wait. She pursed her lips around the tip and gathered a drop of pre-cum with her tongue. He groaned, winding his fingers into her hair. His rod jerked against her lips as she retreated to trail kisses along the shaft. He moaned, obviously stirred by her teasing.
“Suck it already, if that’s what you want!”
Grinning to herself, she opened wide and swallowed him whole. She expected to have some difficulty taking the whole massive length of him, but he slipped down her throat as though he belonged there. She backed off to flick her tongue over the sensitive ridge below the head, then enveloped him again, sucking hard.
He thrust in response to her suction. Relaxing her throat, she took him deeper. His cock jerked and shuddered. A sense of triumph filled her. It was so easy to drive him crazy.
Sylvie bobbed up and down over his shaft. She set the pace at first, but he soon took over, holding her head steady and forcing his cock into her mouth again and again. She sensed his growing excitement in his rhythmic grunts, the trembling of his hands in her hair, the pulse of his flesh against her tongue. It wouldn’t be long.
She was dying to taste him. The closer he got, the more her pussy clenched in sympathetic arousal. Meanwhile, her lips burned as though she’d eaten Thai food. It was the strangest sensation, but far from unpleasant. It might just be the effect of the blazing sun
on her bare skin, but everything felt hot. Her mouth was a boiling cauldron stirred by his raging hard-on.
Reaching down, she cradled his balls in her palm. They were hard and tight. She knew he’d last only a few more seconds. Her swollen clit felt like a balloon about to burst.
She brushed her finger across the tender area behind his scrotum. The rod in her mouth shuddered and she felt the fluid begin to rise in his staff. Exultation seized her. She readied herself for the flood of his cum.
At the last instant, he ripped his cock from her mouth. A white stream erupted from his cock and spattered her cheeks and chest.
The viscous drops seared her skin. She caught a few on her tongue—she could swear they sizzled. The burn raced through her limbs to her simmering pussy. One touch and she’d vaporise.
The stranger’s spasming cock continued to pump gobs of cum. Tendrils of smoke rose wherever they landed on the trampled grass.
Sylvie raised her eyes from his sputtering cock to his face. His handsome features were ravaged by dark emotion. He opened his mouth as though he wanted to say something but all that came out was a wail. Eyes screwed shut, head thrown back, he screamed his pain and lust to the skies.
One cry he gave, and one only. Its echoes returned from the mountains encircling them. He gazed down at Sylvie, prostrate before him, dollops of jism still stinging her cheeks.
“I’m sorry,” he murmured, crumbling beside her. He wiped a drop from her face with his thumb, leaving a smear of fire behind. “I couldn’t help myself.”
Sylvie didn’t speak. She just gathered him into her arms, against her full breasts, holding him. She had seen his wounds, open and bleeding. She didn’t know what terrible burden he bore—not yet—but she was certain that she was destined to help him carry it. She soothed him, planting soft kisses on his tangled blond locks.
Don’t worry, my darling, she thought. I’ll take care of you. His skin was fevered against hers. He stroked her bare back then lowered his head and caught her nipple in his lips, suckling her like a child.
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