EROTIC FANTASY ISLAND CHAPTER 1
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EROTIC FANTASY ISLAND - CHAPTER 11B free porn video
CHAPTER 11B
I couldn’t believe I was about to try this, but I didn’t know any other way to get the liquid into his body. Again, I took a deep breath. I continued using soothing sounds and I hoped they seemed soothing to him. I inserted a couple fingers into his lips and pried his mouth open, getting a much better look at his teeth than I would ever believe I wanted. A low growl rose from his throat, but he didn’t do anything more, nor did he make any more threatening sounds. His tongue came out and licked my fingers and I felt the roughness of his tongue, remembering now the feel of the few cats I had come into contact with growing up. But, the licks reassured me, more than I had any right to expect that I should trust the a****l. With his mouth opened enough, I poured some of the liquid in. He reacted like a k** being given a foul tasting medicine, or perhaps a c***d’s first taste of coffee. He wasn’t happy with the taste or the fact that this liquid was being poured into his throat. He squirmed and coughed and I thought he was going to limp away … or worse. But, neither happened. He shook his head, but he remained where he was, his head in my lap. I was more forceful this time, dribbling a steady stream into his mouth, causing him to gulp the liquid down or drown with the build-up in his mouth.
Once I had most of a cupful into him, I stroked down his side and ended with my hand on his belly. I waited. Would I feel something if it was working? In fact, I did. I felt a gurgling inside and then he began to squirm more urgently until he was weakly on his feet. He stumbled into the foliage and I could hear the retching as his stomach was emptied. I looked to the women and smiled. Through the concern still on their faces, they returned a warier smile.
When the big cat returned, his head was hung low, near the ground. If I could read an a****l’s facial expression, and I am not sure I always could, he looked every bit the sick c***d seeking comfort while at the same time being embarrassed at throwing up. I had shifted to my knees to watch him, and I did lose him in the foliage. Seeing his expression and becoming convinced I was reading it correctly, I returned to a sitting position and put out my arms, just as if I was welcoming that sick c***d into consoling and comforting safety. For his part, the a****l played along. He slowly ambled to me, lowered himself with a groan, and returned his head to my lap.
It was getting dark, but I thought what could be done for him was already done. The women brought some water and food to me. The men started a couple fires around us, as it was becoming clear to everyone that the a****l expected to remain exactly where he was … sleeping on me. Throughout all of it, the a****l never so much as twitched. As ill and fatigued as he was before, the effort of vomiting and losing what was inside him took the last bit of energy and will to resist. He slept soundly and I felt much less bloating in his stomach.
I awoke sometime in the night and discovered that someone had put a blanket over me. While I was awake, I woke the a****l and forced more of that liquid into him. I didn’t know how much, if anything, was still in his stomach, but I figured it couldn’t hurt. The same process was repeated, but this time there seemed to be much less retching from him in the darkness behind me. But, he still came directly back to me and lay down. This time, though, I didn’t let him lay on my lap. He looked at me with sad eyes, but instead I lay on my side and encouraged him to lay in front of me. I wrapped us both under the blanket and my arm around his shoulder, my face nuzzled into his neck. He was asleep before I was.
The next day was nothing if not miraculous. I awoke to the usual morning sounds of the jungle and for a moment I had forgotten the previous night. The furry body in front of me could just as well have been Wolf … except that Wolf’s fur is longer … I heard the low rumble of a contented purr that was nothing like any cat purr I had ever experienced before. I found that not only was my arm still around the panther’s shoulder, but I had a leg over his hips, as well.
I stirred and edged backward. He was apparently also awake but comfortable in the position we were in. Hhe rolled over to follow my movement back, his eyes on mine. I stared into those eyes and found a completely different a****l than the one I had been with the night before. These eyes were alert. He, and I, caught some movement to the side and we both looked that way. Some women were sitting cross-legged just watching. One got up and made an eating motion to which I nodded. Some water was also brought for the a****l and he lapped it up greedily. I even gave up him a few morsels of my food and he took it from my open palm. I didn’t want to lose some fingers by holding the food pieces out to him with fingers. I still wasn’t sure what to make of this b**st, but I assumed that once he was feeling better he would disappear back into the jungle. Much to our surprise, he seemed content to stay with me. He slept on and off during that day and when I got up to walk down the trail through the village for exercise, I was surprised to find him following. Mothers along the trail pulled their c***dren back into huts and behind any object nearby, but the a****l seemed quite content to follow me with no more than sidelong glances at the fuss around him.
The next day, our walks became longer and he was eating solid food. He was still not showing any signs of aggression and I argued with myself, since nobody else would understand me, if this continued contact was right, reasonable, or safe.
The people, though, were making quite a fuss over the a****l and me, its recovery and healthy appearance with each day. The sound of ‘see-leen-a’ could be heard just above a whispered level frequently as I, and the ever present panther, moved around the village. After a couple days, I even named it. I started calling him Preta, which I learned was Portuguese for black. Not only was he following me around, but I soon took that as an indication that perhaps I could also train him in the same manner that I had with Thor and Wolf. I had never spent much time around cats, though. I quickly discovered that cats are less prone to training. They instead seem more inclined to do what I might ask if it suited him at the moment. Certainly, much different than the responses I got from the dogs.
Through sign-language and the few words I had picked up during my stay, it was decided that I could leave the next day for the town down river where I was to arrange to be met by the bush pilot. It was assumed that nature would take its course once I left and the panther, Preta, would wonder off into the jungle. There was something yet to occur, though, that would cause me to suffer more pain and loss when I would have to leave the people.
Preta and I were roaming in the jungle, not far from the village, but far enough that we were isolated. I had been warned repeated since arriving that I shouldn’t be in the jungle alone. At first, it was okay with Thor and Wolf. Now, I figured Preta would be near the top of the food chain and that should keep me relatively safe.
We happened upon a spring filled pool of water, which created a clearing of sorts. We both drank from it and I then slipped into the water and found it refreshingly cool. I tried coaxing Preta into the water, at least a little way, but he would have nothing to do with it. He did surprise me with interest I wasn’t expecting, however. When I came out of the water, I lay on the edge of the grass in the sun, expecting only to have the sun dry me. It was so relaxing that I dozed. I guess I experienced more stress in the effort of caring for Preta and the emotions of leaving the Guarani people after such a visit filled with experiences that couldn’t be duplicated anywhere else. I woke with a start at the feeling of sandpaper rubber against my skin. At least, theat was the impression my mind conjured up. In fact, it was Preta licking the water off my body. I stroked his head and lay back down. He was soon back to licking my body. He ended up at my upper body, covering my breasts and chest. When that raspy tongue flicked over my nipple, I sucked in a sharp breath and didn’t dare move for fear of causing him to move and stop. His tongue, with the sharp little barbs on it, flicked over my nipple, again and again. I finally brought my hands to my breasts, the sensation was so intense.
I had to trust that he had no idea what he was doing to me. A human female must surely have been outside his previous exposure, unless Celina really is out there somewhere. He sat next to me, just looking at me. That was when my nasty mind kicked in. I slowly turned around 90 degrees so my pussy was pointed at him after I opened my legs to place them on either side of him. I moved a hand between my legs and massaged my pussy lips, verifying what I already knew to be a fact. I was wet and turned on. He was watching my fingers on my pussy. Still watching him watch me, I slipped a finger between my lips and inside. I stroked in and out several times, then raised my upper body to my elbow and extended my finger to his nose. He sniffed the finger, then licked it. And, licked it some more. I moved my hand back to my pussy, his eyes following it. I spread my lips, hoping that his sense of smell would trigger on the scent that was not noticeable to humans.
He looked up to my face, then returned his attention to my pussy. He lowered his head and moved slightly forward, sniffing me, exploring me the way a****ls do to someone new. His tongue flicked out and swiped the length of my pussy. Ohhhhh … that raspy tongue! He licked more and his licks became more urgent and intense. His tongue hit my clit, then more frequently. My clit was engorged by that raspy, rough tongue. Soon, I needed to again put my hand over it, the stimulation was so unnerving and intense.
He sat back, again, and looked at me. I knew without thinking about it what I wanted to do, something I had never, ever, not even fantasized, considered possible or actually doing. I wanted to fuck this a****l. How did I move from the initial point of fear to being close to this wild a****l when it was sick and weak to lying here on the ground wondering how to mate with it? How, indeed. Maybe there was more to this Celina in me than I had accepted.
So, with him sitting alongside me, I consciously considered what might be involved if I wanted to make it happen. I was sure it was possible. Although I had never considered it, which meant I had never studied the possibility, what it would entail or being like. My eyes, though, dropped down to his crotch, like my eyes are prone to do.
I saw the tip of his cock poking out from his sheath and there was no doubt lingering in my mind what I was going to do next. I was going to try to experience large cat sex … or scare him off in the process. I no longer felt threatened by this large cat. Perhaps that was stupid of me, but it was how I felt and how I felt he felt about me.
I edged closer to him and stroked his front legs, then patted the ground. He looked at me curiously, at first, but then seemed to somehow understand after my repeated patting on the ground next to where I was also lying. He lay on the ground, his head up watching me. I continued to stroke his body, but my attention was on his crotch and it didn’t take me long to have him fully on his side, his top hind leg up and exposing his sheath. I approached this like I had with dogs and other a****ls and soon I was kissing the exposed cock tip. I put it between my lips, then lifted my head to look into his face. He raised his head to look at me, but laid it back down, rolled a little further onto his back and splayed his legs out. I took that as a positive sign to continue.
Then, I learned something about cat penises. The tip of the penis was pointed and smooth. I had marveled at the differences in penises that had evolved by nature, all presumably to assist in the insemination of the female, but in different ways. The cat, apparently, was still another example of difference. After the tip of the penis head came a larger, thicker section. It didn’t have a knot that tied the male to the female. What it did have, though, were spiny protrusion covering the base portion of the penis head. And, as my lips came into contact with them, they were rough against my lips. I sucked harder, seeing what more might be remaining in the sheath and I encountered yet more surprises. Just underneath the head was a row of larger barbs that where flat against the penis and further down at the base of the penis were more. In all, it was a nice sized penis. Though, I had a feeling these barbs wouldn’t always be flat against the surface.
If a female cat can mate, shouldn’t I be able to? Or, is that really stupid? Maybe this whole Celina thing had gotten too far into my head. But, I had to try.
I turned around onto my hands and knees and presented my bare ass to him. He sniffed at my pussy, again, but was quick to determine what he wanted to do with this opportunity. He jumped onto my back and my hand was between my legs, seeking out his cock to guide it into my hungry pussy. I had thought this had been a spectacular time among these villages with the people and a****ls, but this was taking all of those experiences and shoving them another level up. As his cock slipped between my pussy lips, I said the words out loud, “I am mating with a wild black panther!”
His cock slid into me and we fucked. There was no knot to consider, but there was those spines or barbs. At the moment, the ones on the head of the cock were rubbing inside but not too bad. My orgasm came quickly and his did, too. That was when it all happened. My pussy clamped down around him as my orgasm took hold of me. That in turn was the little extra that he needed to climax. When he did, the barbs became more pronounced. As he came inside, moving slightly with his spurts, the barbs pulling at my pussy walls induced yet another crest in my orgasm. I would find out later, when I had a chance to perform an internet search, that the barbs have multiple purposes, among them being to scr****g out the seed from other males (feline females are notorious for taking multiple partners), temporarily holding the female, and to induce a higher orgasmic reaction in the female. I was surprised by this experience; the irritation of the barbs did indeed have a heightening effect.
As Preta pulled out of me, I cried out as the barbs pulled along the inside of my pussy. That was when I sensed another presence. It turned out to be many presences … several of the women had been watching. Obviously, being observed mating the panther did nothing to quell the comments about my being or related to Celina. In fact, they insisted on still another tattoo for me and I have to say it is a beautifully done piece. A four inch black panther in a crouching position like he is about to attack, his tail curling up. The woman placed it above the others on my left breast. Besides being beautiful with exquisite detailing, I was the only one in all the villages with the tattoo. It was something the women made a point of indicating to me.
When the time came in the next morning, it was even harder to say goodbye to the people. Now, I also had to say goodbye to Preta. I had just met him; I had just experienced him; now, I was also leaving him. It didn’t seem fair to me. As the people congregated around the canoe as we pushed off, Preta was standing off to the side away from the people, but the look of confusion on his face was obvious to me. I waved with all the enthusiasm I could. I wanted them to understand, without the words I didn’t have, how much I would miss them. I learned so much, experienced even more, and found a bond that I couldn’t have believed could be formed in such a relatively short time. As I watched them disappear as we round a bend in the river, I didn’t know if I would ever see them again. I knew, though, that I would never forget them.
* * * *
As it turned out, I had to wait nearly 24 hours for the plane to arrive. When it did, I wasn’t sure in looking at it if it was capable of making a take-off, much less travelling any distance.
The plane circled the grassy area outside the town along the river and landed smoothly. It rolled directly to me and stopped. I had only my backpack and a large woven bag. I had finally dressed on the trip down the river, putting on underwear, shorts, button blouse, and hiking boots. The backpack now contained a spare change of underwear, another blouse, and the many souvenirs given to me by the people. The woven bag contained a wide selection of natural herbs used by the people. My last hours with them was spent in learning how to use them. Included was the herbs for the horse. I knew I was going to somehow incorporate belly-riding into the resort activities. How or where I would find more of the herbs, I had no idea. Maybe there was already something available if you knew what to look for …
I put the backpack on and took up the bag as the plane rolled and stopped in front of me. The pilot got out and I noticed that there were no doors in the pilot area, either the pilot side or the co-pilot side. Then, I saw two men in the back seats. That was all the room available. The pilot introduced himself and apologized for the delay, but he was requested at the last minute to wait for those men. He was American who came down here to disappear from the hassle of the world. He flew small planes for mining companies and found he liked the world with few people much more than the world with too many people. The other men were in some hurry to leave the jungle. I asked why. He said simply that in the jungle it is best not to ask too many questions like that. He did ask me what I was doing in the jungle, then looked defensive. I smiled and told him mostly the truth. I gave him an explanation of spending time with the Guarani people, studying and learning some of their culture, traditions, and community.
He looked at me quizzically, “Really … I was under the impression they didn’t take to outsiders …”
I smiled, “I understood the same thing. I was introduced by someone who had family connections. It took a while, but they warmed up to me …” I was afraid I might blush, so I turned to look into the plane.
He asked about my baggage and I indicated what I had. “Good. Those two must be carrying minerals or something. We already have a lot of weight.” He looked me up and down as if to evaluate me. “I can only offer you the co-pilot seat. It’s all there is …”
“That’s fine.” I was trying to be confident, much more so than I felt while looking at the plane.
He smiled at the way I looked at the plane. “It flies a lot better than it looks.” I got embarrassed that he saw my concerned look, but he made me relax and laugh.
As it turned out, thankfully, it was able to take-off. And, once in the air, the lack of doors made the view of the jungle below even more spectacular. He didn’t fly too high off the tree-tops. He said he was at a thousand feet, but it looked a lot closer than that. I turned in the seat, at least as much as the seat-belt allowed, to talk to the other men, but they didn’t respond, ignoring me completely. They spent all their time watching out the windows as if someone might sudden appear following us. I looked at the pilot and he just shrugged. I was strapped in wearing the backpack and clutching the bag. Without a door next to me, I didn’t trust leaving either on the floor. It was uncomfortable, but I knew where everything was.
I was watching intently at the jungle below, picking out birds in the canopy, movements in and alongside rivers, and occasionally spotting a****ls and members of a tribe below. Suddenly, the plane banked sharply to the left and dropped a couple hundred feet. Without changing the direction I was looking, my eyes found a streak of fire and vapor moving from in front of us to up and behind us.
“What the hell was that!?!” I might have scream it.
“A S.A.M. Before you ask, I don’t know why or from where.”
“I thought they were heat-seeking.”
“They are, but this plane doesn’t generate enough heat for it to make the U-turn and come back at us.” He reached behind him and shoved a pack into me. “Put this on …” he looked at and tried to smile … “just in case.”
I was struggling with it, the seat-belt, my back pack, the bag … then, the plane seemed to jump 15 feet into the air and spin to the left. The pilot scream to us, “We’re hit … not too bad, though. I think I can … oh, shit …” I looked to the left where he was looking. Below and ahead was another streak coming for us. He looked at me and looked supremely sorry. “I’m sorry, Annie. Forget taking your backpack off. Release your seatbelt, put your arms through the pack and grab onto your backpack straps with every ounce of strength you have.” He touched my hand to a large ring. “This will release the parachute. Only pull if … you find yourself not in the plane.” He smiled weakly.
My mouth was moving but nothing was coming out. I looked at the chute, then him. I released the seatbelt and did as he told me. From behind, I could hear the two men cussing at themselves and others. Something about they should have known better. I looked back them in shock. I looked at the pilot with pleading eyes. He reached over and patted my arm.
“Sorry, Annie. I wish I had only picked you up.” He mouthed a sorry, then banked the plane sharply to the left, which caused me to lean to the right, then he banked even sharper to the right.
One second I was sitting in the plane wondering what was happening, not even why, just wondering what. The next second, I wasn’t in the plane. I was falling through the air on my back. I could see the plane as it leveled off and I continued to fall. It seemed like forever, but I knew it couldn’t have been more than moments. I watched as the streak rose up to the plane. I watched as the missile drove into the back passenger compartment of the plane. I watched as the plane erupted into a ball of fire. Even before I saw any disintegration of the plane, any debris flying through the air, or any concept of three lives ending above me, before any of that, I saw a warping of the air around the plane. The concussion force? My eyes not believing what was happening to me and envisioning things?
I remembered the pack I was clutching to me, the parachute, the ring … I pushed with my right hand on the ring, pulling it away from the pack. I saw the pack open. I re-grabbed my backpack strap with a death grip and felt the chute fill with air, then pull me up or seemingly so. My fall slowed tremendously, but all that was below me was jungle canopy … and no way of know what was beneath that. I looked back at the plane as it turned into smoke and pieces. But, that warped air was still there, coming toward me like a huge bubble that was growing and expanding outward from the plane in every direction.
Before I hit the canopy, before my body made contact with anything connected to the ground or anything else of substance, that growing bubble of warped air caught me. It wasn’t like a concussion of air. There was no rushing of forced air past me. There was no sense of heated air passing over and around me. Instead, it seemed to pass through me, light the bubble was uninterrupted, unfazed, by the presence of my body. As it passed over me, through me, it was like nothing substantive that I could explain adequately. I felt my entire body tingle, even vibrate deep inside. It was like it was passing through me, contacting me only on a minute level … … … a molecular level.
Strange … despite the chute above me, I was rushing toward the jungle canopy below.
Strange … what your mind will focus on at just the moment before you are certain to …
…
… die.
* * * CHAPTER 12 will follow * * * Thanks for reading.
I couldn’t believe I was about to try this, but I didn’t know any other way to get the liquid into his body. Again, I took a deep breath. I continued using soothing sounds and I hoped they seemed soothing to him. I inserted a couple fingers into his lips and pried his mouth open, getting a much better look at his teeth than I would ever believe I wanted. A low growl rose from his throat, but he didn’t do anything more, nor did he make any more threatening sounds. His tongue came out and licked my fingers and I felt the roughness of his tongue, remembering now the feel of the few cats I had come into contact with growing up. But, the licks reassured me, more than I had any right to expect that I should trust the a****l. With his mouth opened enough, I poured some of the liquid in. He reacted like a k** being given a foul tasting medicine, or perhaps a c***d’s first taste of coffee. He wasn’t happy with the taste or the fact that this liquid was being poured into his throat. He squirmed and coughed and I thought he was going to limp away … or worse. But, neither happened. He shook his head, but he remained where he was, his head in my lap. I was more forceful this time, dribbling a steady stream into his mouth, causing him to gulp the liquid down or drown with the build-up in his mouth.
Once I had most of a cupful into him, I stroked down his side and ended with my hand on his belly. I waited. Would I feel something if it was working? In fact, I did. I felt a gurgling inside and then he began to squirm more urgently until he was weakly on his feet. He stumbled into the foliage and I could hear the retching as his stomach was emptied. I looked to the women and smiled. Through the concern still on their faces, they returned a warier smile.
When the big cat returned, his head was hung low, near the ground. If I could read an a****l’s facial expression, and I am not sure I always could, he looked every bit the sick c***d seeking comfort while at the same time being embarrassed at throwing up. I had shifted to my knees to watch him, and I did lose him in the foliage. Seeing his expression and becoming convinced I was reading it correctly, I returned to a sitting position and put out my arms, just as if I was welcoming that sick c***d into consoling and comforting safety. For his part, the a****l played along. He slowly ambled to me, lowered himself with a groan, and returned his head to my lap.
It was getting dark, but I thought what could be done for him was already done. The women brought some water and food to me. The men started a couple fires around us, as it was becoming clear to everyone that the a****l expected to remain exactly where he was … sleeping on me. Throughout all of it, the a****l never so much as twitched. As ill and fatigued as he was before, the effort of vomiting and losing what was inside him took the last bit of energy and will to resist. He slept soundly and I felt much less bloating in his stomach.
I awoke sometime in the night and discovered that someone had put a blanket over me. While I was awake, I woke the a****l and forced more of that liquid into him. I didn’t know how much, if anything, was still in his stomach, but I figured it couldn’t hurt. The same process was repeated, but this time there seemed to be much less retching from him in the darkness behind me. But, he still came directly back to me and lay down. This time, though, I didn’t let him lay on my lap. He looked at me with sad eyes, but instead I lay on my side and encouraged him to lay in front of me. I wrapped us both under the blanket and my arm around his shoulder, my face nuzzled into his neck. He was asleep before I was.
The next day was nothing if not miraculous. I awoke to the usual morning sounds of the jungle and for a moment I had forgotten the previous night. The furry body in front of me could just as well have been Wolf … except that Wolf’s fur is longer … I heard the low rumble of a contented purr that was nothing like any cat purr I had ever experienced before. I found that not only was my arm still around the panther’s shoulder, but I had a leg over his hips, as well.
I stirred and edged backward. He was apparently also awake but comfortable in the position we were in. Hhe rolled over to follow my movement back, his eyes on mine. I stared into those eyes and found a completely different a****l than the one I had been with the night before. These eyes were alert. He, and I, caught some movement to the side and we both looked that way. Some women were sitting cross-legged just watching. One got up and made an eating motion to which I nodded. Some water was also brought for the a****l and he lapped it up greedily. I even gave up him a few morsels of my food and he took it from my open palm. I didn’t want to lose some fingers by holding the food pieces out to him with fingers. I still wasn’t sure what to make of this b**st, but I assumed that once he was feeling better he would disappear back into the jungle. Much to our surprise, he seemed content to stay with me. He slept on and off during that day and when I got up to walk down the trail through the village for exercise, I was surprised to find him following. Mothers along the trail pulled their c***dren back into huts and behind any object nearby, but the a****l seemed quite content to follow me with no more than sidelong glances at the fuss around him.
The next day, our walks became longer and he was eating solid food. He was still not showing any signs of aggression and I argued with myself, since nobody else would understand me, if this continued contact was right, reasonable, or safe.
The people, though, were making quite a fuss over the a****l and me, its recovery and healthy appearance with each day. The sound of ‘see-leen-a’ could be heard just above a whispered level frequently as I, and the ever present panther, moved around the village. After a couple days, I even named it. I started calling him Preta, which I learned was Portuguese for black. Not only was he following me around, but I soon took that as an indication that perhaps I could also train him in the same manner that I had with Thor and Wolf. I had never spent much time around cats, though. I quickly discovered that cats are less prone to training. They instead seem more inclined to do what I might ask if it suited him at the moment. Certainly, much different than the responses I got from the dogs.
Through sign-language and the few words I had picked up during my stay, it was decided that I could leave the next day for the town down river where I was to arrange to be met by the bush pilot. It was assumed that nature would take its course once I left and the panther, Preta, would wonder off into the jungle. There was something yet to occur, though, that would cause me to suffer more pain and loss when I would have to leave the people.
Preta and I were roaming in the jungle, not far from the village, but far enough that we were isolated. I had been warned repeated since arriving that I shouldn’t be in the jungle alone. At first, it was okay with Thor and Wolf. Now, I figured Preta would be near the top of the food chain and that should keep me relatively safe.
We happened upon a spring filled pool of water, which created a clearing of sorts. We both drank from it and I then slipped into the water and found it refreshingly cool. I tried coaxing Preta into the water, at least a little way, but he would have nothing to do with it. He did surprise me with interest I wasn’t expecting, however. When I came out of the water, I lay on the edge of the grass in the sun, expecting only to have the sun dry me. It was so relaxing that I dozed. I guess I experienced more stress in the effort of caring for Preta and the emotions of leaving the Guarani people after such a visit filled with experiences that couldn’t be duplicated anywhere else. I woke with a start at the feeling of sandpaper rubber against my skin. At least, theat was the impression my mind conjured up. In fact, it was Preta licking the water off my body. I stroked his head and lay back down. He was soon back to licking my body. He ended up at my upper body, covering my breasts and chest. When that raspy tongue flicked over my nipple, I sucked in a sharp breath and didn’t dare move for fear of causing him to move and stop. His tongue, with the sharp little barbs on it, flicked over my nipple, again and again. I finally brought my hands to my breasts, the sensation was so intense.
I had to trust that he had no idea what he was doing to me. A human female must surely have been outside his previous exposure, unless Celina really is out there somewhere. He sat next to me, just looking at me. That was when my nasty mind kicked in. I slowly turned around 90 degrees so my pussy was pointed at him after I opened my legs to place them on either side of him. I moved a hand between my legs and massaged my pussy lips, verifying what I already knew to be a fact. I was wet and turned on. He was watching my fingers on my pussy. Still watching him watch me, I slipped a finger between my lips and inside. I stroked in and out several times, then raised my upper body to my elbow and extended my finger to his nose. He sniffed the finger, then licked it. And, licked it some more. I moved my hand back to my pussy, his eyes following it. I spread my lips, hoping that his sense of smell would trigger on the scent that was not noticeable to humans.
He looked up to my face, then returned his attention to my pussy. He lowered his head and moved slightly forward, sniffing me, exploring me the way a****ls do to someone new. His tongue flicked out and swiped the length of my pussy. Ohhhhh … that raspy tongue! He licked more and his licks became more urgent and intense. His tongue hit my clit, then more frequently. My clit was engorged by that raspy, rough tongue. Soon, I needed to again put my hand over it, the stimulation was so unnerving and intense.
He sat back, again, and looked at me. I knew without thinking about it what I wanted to do, something I had never, ever, not even fantasized, considered possible or actually doing. I wanted to fuck this a****l. How did I move from the initial point of fear to being close to this wild a****l when it was sick and weak to lying here on the ground wondering how to mate with it? How, indeed. Maybe there was more to this Celina in me than I had accepted.
So, with him sitting alongside me, I consciously considered what might be involved if I wanted to make it happen. I was sure it was possible. Although I had never considered it, which meant I had never studied the possibility, what it would entail or being like. My eyes, though, dropped down to his crotch, like my eyes are prone to do.
I saw the tip of his cock poking out from his sheath and there was no doubt lingering in my mind what I was going to do next. I was going to try to experience large cat sex … or scare him off in the process. I no longer felt threatened by this large cat. Perhaps that was stupid of me, but it was how I felt and how I felt he felt about me.
I edged closer to him and stroked his front legs, then patted the ground. He looked at me curiously, at first, but then seemed to somehow understand after my repeated patting on the ground next to where I was also lying. He lay on the ground, his head up watching me. I continued to stroke his body, but my attention was on his crotch and it didn’t take me long to have him fully on his side, his top hind leg up and exposing his sheath. I approached this like I had with dogs and other a****ls and soon I was kissing the exposed cock tip. I put it between my lips, then lifted my head to look into his face. He raised his head to look at me, but laid it back down, rolled a little further onto his back and splayed his legs out. I took that as a positive sign to continue.
Then, I learned something about cat penises. The tip of the penis was pointed and smooth. I had marveled at the differences in penises that had evolved by nature, all presumably to assist in the insemination of the female, but in different ways. The cat, apparently, was still another example of difference. After the tip of the penis head came a larger, thicker section. It didn’t have a knot that tied the male to the female. What it did have, though, were spiny protrusion covering the base portion of the penis head. And, as my lips came into contact with them, they were rough against my lips. I sucked harder, seeing what more might be remaining in the sheath and I encountered yet more surprises. Just underneath the head was a row of larger barbs that where flat against the penis and further down at the base of the penis were more. In all, it was a nice sized penis. Though, I had a feeling these barbs wouldn’t always be flat against the surface.
If a female cat can mate, shouldn’t I be able to? Or, is that really stupid? Maybe this whole Celina thing had gotten too far into my head. But, I had to try.
I turned around onto my hands and knees and presented my bare ass to him. He sniffed at my pussy, again, but was quick to determine what he wanted to do with this opportunity. He jumped onto my back and my hand was between my legs, seeking out his cock to guide it into my hungry pussy. I had thought this had been a spectacular time among these villages with the people and a****ls, but this was taking all of those experiences and shoving them another level up. As his cock slipped between my pussy lips, I said the words out loud, “I am mating with a wild black panther!”
His cock slid into me and we fucked. There was no knot to consider, but there was those spines or barbs. At the moment, the ones on the head of the cock were rubbing inside but not too bad. My orgasm came quickly and his did, too. That was when it all happened. My pussy clamped down around him as my orgasm took hold of me. That in turn was the little extra that he needed to climax. When he did, the barbs became more pronounced. As he came inside, moving slightly with his spurts, the barbs pulling at my pussy walls induced yet another crest in my orgasm. I would find out later, when I had a chance to perform an internet search, that the barbs have multiple purposes, among them being to scr****g out the seed from other males (feline females are notorious for taking multiple partners), temporarily holding the female, and to induce a higher orgasmic reaction in the female. I was surprised by this experience; the irritation of the barbs did indeed have a heightening effect.
As Preta pulled out of me, I cried out as the barbs pulled along the inside of my pussy. That was when I sensed another presence. It turned out to be many presences … several of the women had been watching. Obviously, being observed mating the panther did nothing to quell the comments about my being or related to Celina. In fact, they insisted on still another tattoo for me and I have to say it is a beautifully done piece. A four inch black panther in a crouching position like he is about to attack, his tail curling up. The woman placed it above the others on my left breast. Besides being beautiful with exquisite detailing, I was the only one in all the villages with the tattoo. It was something the women made a point of indicating to me.
When the time came in the next morning, it was even harder to say goodbye to the people. Now, I also had to say goodbye to Preta. I had just met him; I had just experienced him; now, I was also leaving him. It didn’t seem fair to me. As the people congregated around the canoe as we pushed off, Preta was standing off to the side away from the people, but the look of confusion on his face was obvious to me. I waved with all the enthusiasm I could. I wanted them to understand, without the words I didn’t have, how much I would miss them. I learned so much, experienced even more, and found a bond that I couldn’t have believed could be formed in such a relatively short time. As I watched them disappear as we round a bend in the river, I didn’t know if I would ever see them again. I knew, though, that I would never forget them.
* * * *
As it turned out, I had to wait nearly 24 hours for the plane to arrive. When it did, I wasn’t sure in looking at it if it was capable of making a take-off, much less travelling any distance.
The plane circled the grassy area outside the town along the river and landed smoothly. It rolled directly to me and stopped. I had only my backpack and a large woven bag. I had finally dressed on the trip down the river, putting on underwear, shorts, button blouse, and hiking boots. The backpack now contained a spare change of underwear, another blouse, and the many souvenirs given to me by the people. The woven bag contained a wide selection of natural herbs used by the people. My last hours with them was spent in learning how to use them. Included was the herbs for the horse. I knew I was going to somehow incorporate belly-riding into the resort activities. How or where I would find more of the herbs, I had no idea. Maybe there was already something available if you knew what to look for …
I put the backpack on and took up the bag as the plane rolled and stopped in front of me. The pilot got out and I noticed that there were no doors in the pilot area, either the pilot side or the co-pilot side. Then, I saw two men in the back seats. That was all the room available. The pilot introduced himself and apologized for the delay, but he was requested at the last minute to wait for those men. He was American who came down here to disappear from the hassle of the world. He flew small planes for mining companies and found he liked the world with few people much more than the world with too many people. The other men were in some hurry to leave the jungle. I asked why. He said simply that in the jungle it is best not to ask too many questions like that. He did ask me what I was doing in the jungle, then looked defensive. I smiled and told him mostly the truth. I gave him an explanation of spending time with the Guarani people, studying and learning some of their culture, traditions, and community.
He looked at me quizzically, “Really … I was under the impression they didn’t take to outsiders …”
I smiled, “I understood the same thing. I was introduced by someone who had family connections. It took a while, but they warmed up to me …” I was afraid I might blush, so I turned to look into the plane.
He asked about my baggage and I indicated what I had. “Good. Those two must be carrying minerals or something. We already have a lot of weight.” He looked me up and down as if to evaluate me. “I can only offer you the co-pilot seat. It’s all there is …”
“That’s fine.” I was trying to be confident, much more so than I felt while looking at the plane.
He smiled at the way I looked at the plane. “It flies a lot better than it looks.” I got embarrassed that he saw my concerned look, but he made me relax and laugh.
As it turned out, thankfully, it was able to take-off. And, once in the air, the lack of doors made the view of the jungle below even more spectacular. He didn’t fly too high off the tree-tops. He said he was at a thousand feet, but it looked a lot closer than that. I turned in the seat, at least as much as the seat-belt allowed, to talk to the other men, but they didn’t respond, ignoring me completely. They spent all their time watching out the windows as if someone might sudden appear following us. I looked at the pilot and he just shrugged. I was strapped in wearing the backpack and clutching the bag. Without a door next to me, I didn’t trust leaving either on the floor. It was uncomfortable, but I knew where everything was.
I was watching intently at the jungle below, picking out birds in the canopy, movements in and alongside rivers, and occasionally spotting a****ls and members of a tribe below. Suddenly, the plane banked sharply to the left and dropped a couple hundred feet. Without changing the direction I was looking, my eyes found a streak of fire and vapor moving from in front of us to up and behind us.
“What the hell was that!?!” I might have scream it.
“A S.A.M. Before you ask, I don’t know why or from where.”
“I thought they were heat-seeking.”
“They are, but this plane doesn’t generate enough heat for it to make the U-turn and come back at us.” He reached behind him and shoved a pack into me. “Put this on …” he looked at and tried to smile … “just in case.”
I was struggling with it, the seat-belt, my back pack, the bag … then, the plane seemed to jump 15 feet into the air and spin to the left. The pilot scream to us, “We’re hit … not too bad, though. I think I can … oh, shit …” I looked to the left where he was looking. Below and ahead was another streak coming for us. He looked at me and looked supremely sorry. “I’m sorry, Annie. Forget taking your backpack off. Release your seatbelt, put your arms through the pack and grab onto your backpack straps with every ounce of strength you have.” He touched my hand to a large ring. “This will release the parachute. Only pull if … you find yourself not in the plane.” He smiled weakly.
My mouth was moving but nothing was coming out. I looked at the chute, then him. I released the seatbelt and did as he told me. From behind, I could hear the two men cussing at themselves and others. Something about they should have known better. I looked back them in shock. I looked at the pilot with pleading eyes. He reached over and patted my arm.
“Sorry, Annie. I wish I had only picked you up.” He mouthed a sorry, then banked the plane sharply to the left, which caused me to lean to the right, then he banked even sharper to the right.
One second I was sitting in the plane wondering what was happening, not even why, just wondering what. The next second, I wasn’t in the plane. I was falling through the air on my back. I could see the plane as it leveled off and I continued to fall. It seemed like forever, but I knew it couldn’t have been more than moments. I watched as the streak rose up to the plane. I watched as the missile drove into the back passenger compartment of the plane. I watched as the plane erupted into a ball of fire. Even before I saw any disintegration of the plane, any debris flying through the air, or any concept of three lives ending above me, before any of that, I saw a warping of the air around the plane. The concussion force? My eyes not believing what was happening to me and envisioning things?
I remembered the pack I was clutching to me, the parachute, the ring … I pushed with my right hand on the ring, pulling it away from the pack. I saw the pack open. I re-grabbed my backpack strap with a death grip and felt the chute fill with air, then pull me up or seemingly so. My fall slowed tremendously, but all that was below me was jungle canopy … and no way of know what was beneath that. I looked back at the plane as it turned into smoke and pieces. But, that warped air was still there, coming toward me like a huge bubble that was growing and expanding outward from the plane in every direction.
Before I hit the canopy, before my body made contact with anything connected to the ground or anything else of substance, that growing bubble of warped air caught me. It wasn’t like a concussion of air. There was no rushing of forced air past me. There was no sense of heated air passing over and around me. Instead, it seemed to pass through me, light the bubble was uninterrupted, unfazed, by the presence of my body. As it passed over me, through me, it was like nothing substantive that I could explain adequately. I felt my entire body tingle, even vibrate deep inside. It was like it was passing through me, contacting me only on a minute level … … … a molecular level.
Strange … despite the chute above me, I was rushing toward the jungle canopy below.
Strange … what your mind will focus on at just the moment before you are certain to …
…
… die.
* * * CHAPTER 12 will follow * * * Thanks for reading.
Nadene
- 28.06.2022
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