Continues from The Hunt (VI)
Image – Author Unknown
The figure was approaching from downstream. It was a man – naked, dark skinned and quite tall.
I was lying on the ridge. He probably couldn’t see me but I moved back a little anyway. He was wading upstream towards me, leaning slightly forward into the gently flowing currents. His dignified bearing and slow graceful movements conveyed a calm and resolute purpose that seemed very beautiful to me. Every now and then watery swells would rise to the top of his thighs and splash gently at his manhood – as if to caress and kiss it in greeting.
He was lean, dark-haired, athletic – but not overly muscular. His wet bronzed torso gleamed and shone in the afternoon sunlight and he appeared to me as something primal, born of a union between river and sun. At that moment his beauty and his nakedness seemed miraculous – like the trees and the river itself.
I couldn’t take my eyes off him.
Slowly, he approached the clearing on the river bank and turned his back to me. As he rose from the water his firm rounded ass surfaced like a dripping succulent fruit – as if it were an offering from the river gods themselves.
I couldn’t help but let out a little gasp.
It was one of the most finely sculpted male asses I had ever seen – tempting, full bodied and so firm – a “manly” ass. A work of art placed atop two thighs that were like columns of muscle and flesh. If my Mistress had been with me she would surely have bought him on the spot to hang as one of her objets d’art.
I thought of what she would do with him.
I thought of what she would have me do with him while she watched.
Assailed by an overpowering desire my hand slowly slipped down to my tingling sex. How moist I was. How hungry too.
I watched him lie down on the grassy bank to dry himself. He made a similar offering of thanks to the gods to the one that I had made. In a gesture of surrender, he closed his eyes, stretched his arms above his head, took a deep breath and raised himself to the sun. The lines of his ribs and the texture of his muscles were exquisitely drawn on the hard, flat canvas of his smooth bronzed belly.
My fingers deepened and quickened within me – if my hands were his what would he do with me?
I moved a little closer to the edge to see better and – damn it – dislodged some earth and stones which tumbled noisily down the slope.
He jumped up straight away and looked over toward me.
He’d seen me.
I didn’t want to frighten him so I stood up very slowly and revealed myself.
We stood staring at each other for a few moments. There was a hint of a smile and then he beckoned me down to the bank. I hesitated. It would be better for me to stay on my own until I reached the seminary, but at that moment I felt such overwhelming desire for him that I could only give in to the powerful call of my own sex.
And not just desire for his body. His eyes shone. They were like two tiny beacons – they were so intense and piercing – and I felt I had been captured by them and was being steered into a harbor that had been designated for me alone.
Standing there with his legs slightly apart, erect, firm, potent, he looked just like a god of nature. Someone to whom I would have to kneel and pledge myself before I could continue on my journey. Without further thought, I turned and took the short path down to the bank. I entered the waters and swam over to him. He smiled again and opened his arms to me. I went up to him and stood before him naked and dripping. His eyes seemed even more vivid now and as clear and as the waters I had just risen from.
I approached him and he put his arms around me as if to claim me for his own. I rested my head against his still damp chest and smelt the fresh river water on his wet skin. Aroused, I put my arms around his back and gripped the smooth hardness of his body. I closed my eyes and ran my fingers all over his back and shoulders and my senses imbibed the very essence of him – his hardness, his coolness, his manhood. I felt my body and my sex being recharged by him. I wanted his power. I needed it. And I needed him inside me.
I had been waiting so long for this.
I looked up and we kissed.
This was the speech our mouths were designed for. Words were clumsy, vague, ephemeral things. Designed to deceive. But now we would only speak the truth. And in the slow sensual dance of our tongues, I revealed my secrets and innermost desires to him and in bliss he roamed freely inside me. I could hide nothing from him.
Our mouths finally parted and I looked again into his eyes and I suddenly experienced a craving that totally consumed me. I wanted to dive into him and drown within him – live submerged in his will and his desire. I wanted to be utterly destroyed by him so that I could be reborn again as his creature.
I sank slowly to my knees. There stood his manhood, risen for me, hard for me, aflame for me. A golden cup, I took it and placed it to my lips. My hands softly caressed its long stem and I took a sip, my tongue relishing its fullness and essence.
Image – author unknown
He took my head in his hands and gently, but quite firmly, pushed me to go deeper and taste him more fully.
I looked up at him and felt him flowing through me, claiming me, filling me up and completing me. He pushed me harder and I relaxed my throat for him as I had been taught to do in the seminary. My hands caressed his tender ball-sack and I pressed my finger up behind it to make him even bigger. I gripped him tightly with my mouth and my tongue wriggled and teased him under the tip. I shook my head to force him deeper still. More, more, let me taste you, let me drink you, let me gulp you down, more, more, more… But suddenly and abruptly he withdrew and pushed me roughly onto my back. I was gasping out loud but he leaned over me, put his hand to my mouth and swiftly silenced me.
He took my wrists and placed them above my head so they extended out into the water. The river flowed over my arms and through my hair and I felt swells of refreshing cool wetness all over my belly and breasts.
He held me captive by my wrists with one hand and then with the other he took the inflamed trunk of his cock and slowly drove it into my imploring pussy. He held me still, imprisoning me within walls of stone hard muscle, and pumped me fast, again and again, crushing me until I could bear it no longer and I exploded with a release that came with such a deafening roar and such pounding violence it felt like rampaging wild horses. Horses, whipped to fury, hundreds of them, coming in from all directions, horses running over me, horses trampling me, horses pounding me, whipping me, pounding me, whipping, pounding, whipping, pounding… horses… horses… horses…
In his arms. A brief eternity.
He rose. Standing over me. Naked. Glorious.
At the woods.
And he was gone.
To the river returned.
I heard the horses.
They were coming for me.
Continues The Hunt (VIII)