Bedtime Stories Wolf
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Bedtime Stories - Wolf free porn video
On a wooded path, i approached a shirtless man.
From behind, I could see the leather of his trousers, stretched taught across his hips, as he crouched, bent at the knees among ferns, just off the edge of the path. And there was an inviting gap at the waistband, just above his behind.
Cautious, but unrelentingly aroused, I approached him as quietly as my bare feet could carry me over the dirt path... avoiding stones and sticks, in quick almost dance-like steps.
As I drew closer, he slowed in his busy-ness, aware of my presence, tho not, perhaps, my intent. He did not stop, but his ears were pricked - attentive to my slightest motion, and the fact that he continued about his tasks, back still toward me made me curious. Compelled now, by not just the man but what he was up to, and aware that he knew I was there but chose to ignore me, I abandoned stealth for speed, and moved with renewed purpose in his direction.
Before I could fully close the gap between us, he stood - the sight of his muscles working to move his body enchanted me and I slowed again - and when he turned - though it took me a moment to trace the path from navel to neck to face - I realised he was you.
You held a small bouquet of shady wildflowers - almost foreign and savage in their colors and shapes - and presented them to me as you approached. You came to me - keeping me away from the place you had been, and well in the middle of the "safety" of the path. You asked if you might walk with me for a bit - explaining that the woods were not entirely safe, and when I told you that I had grown up in them and knew them like an old friend, you told me that even old friends have secrets - and that some of them held danger.
Although I was irked by your suggestion that I could not take care of myself, I enjoyed your voice - low and like the the shifting shadows of the leaves in the breeze and occasionally as bright as the sun that filtered through them - and wanted to hear more. Still, as you talked - and we moved along the shadowy path, deeper into the woods than I had intended to go - I traced the outline of my dagger against my thigh and found a comforting sense of safety in its lines and the coolness of the steel against my skin. As my fingertips followed the pattern of pommel to blade and back - in subconscious infinity loops over the quillions - I find my thoughts wandering back to the gap in your trousers and your thighs, and the heat of your breath on my cheek surprises me - as does the pressure of your body (so much taller and stronger than mine) behind me - as you lean in close to whisper for me to notice the rabbits in front of us, down the path.
Before I can see them, you spring, covering more ground in your few steps than I can keep up with, and I am sprinting to catch you. The rabbits are startled by your approach, and all I see of them are tails and paddle-like feet as they bound away in a flurry of shifting grass - until you turn, holding a small one by the ears, for me. The fire in your eyes as you hold it in front of me - your chest heaving with your breathing - is disarming, and I reach for the rabbit, following my instinct to protect it from whatever plans you have in mind. To my surprise - and delight - you don't pull it away from me, but instead offer it - at a respectful arms length - for me to hold and stroke and comfort. I can feel you watching my fingertips as they disappear in the shaking a****l's soft, warm coat - and I am suddenly self-conscious because I am imagining this same motion through your hair - along the back of your head, and your chest, and...
elsewhere.
We move more slowly now, the rabbit in my arms and you by my side - chatting idly about the trees and flowers and fruits along the way, until we land in a small meadow-like clearing; an oasis of sunlight in the middle of the wood. The rabbit has calmed, our conversation has surrendered to warm, sleepy silence, and when we settle into the grass of the clearing, I let it go. After a few tentative steps, it bounces away leaving the slightest hint of a trail of where it has been as it disappears back into the woods. Once it is gone, I lie back - sprawled across my crimson cloak, enjoying the perfumed cushion of crushed grass beneath me and the heat of sun sinking deeper through my clothes and warming my muscles.
I close my eyes and my breathing slows - the red wash of sunlight through my eyelids, the whisper of gentle breezes in the grass around us, and your low and steady breathing lull me into a state of relaxation.
When I wake, the evening chill has settled in, and before I open my eyes, I know you are watching me... and you know that I am roused from my dreaming. I can sense, more than hear, your movement, and before I could protest, not that I would, you are pressed against my side, your erection mirroring the dagger against my opposing thigh. I open my eyes, expecting to see your face, but instead am greeted by the crisp night sky, bedecked in stars and the gibbous moon.
"You have walked and talked with me, you know me, and I wish to be your very special friend." Your words, as rich as your voice, are a tease and a challenge, and I am feeling very brave.
I turn to look at you and the wildness in your eyes stops me, mouth open to respond, before I can speak. You seize my open mouth with yours, and in a heady rush, we are engaged in a most passionate kiss.
Your hands are not warm, but hot through the fabric of my dress, and they make quick work of finding the hem of my skirt (which has hiked its way up to mid-thigh while I was dozing). Across the cool skin of my thighs, I am trembling under your touch - and then you find my dagger. With a look, more amused than afraid, you unfasten the leather straps that bind my weapon, and place it well out my reach... kissing the chafed skin where it had been rubbing as we walked. The heat of your mouth resonates with the rawness of my skin, and the prickling pain of your kisses simultaneously makes me want you to stop, and to kiss me harder.
I am not thinking when I feel my hips rising to meet your mouth - your kisses trailing too slowly toward my sex, and the electric charge that courses through me. I am insanely wet, waiting for you, aching for you: your mouth, your hands, your cock - - I don't care - - I just want to satisfy the overarching need to be connected with you in the most intimate of ways.
"Am I your friend? Like these woods? Like the other a****ls who live here? Will you have me?"
I want to answer you with an immediate yes, but again you seal off my voice with your mouth... and then pull back. The look in your eyes warning me to be very careful with my answer. I know - from your face that whatever I say next will somehow seal my fate - and perhaps yours. For a hint of a moment, my desire subsides, as I consider the weight of your question, and then your hand is back on my skin; driving me wild and pushing the moment to crisis.
I nod my agreement, but you are not satisfied. "Say it. Tell me I am your friend."
You are poised between my thighs, your hands on either side of my shoulders, your feral face above me framed by night and stars, and I want more than anything, in this moment, to be yours - your friend, your lover, your soul mate, your partner in all things. My feet are on the bare skin of your calves, and I can feel your muscles taut - anxious.
I am bereft of the faculty to consider ramifications or implications or anything other than my surging desire to share myself with you - all that I am, all that I know, all that I have. With all the breath I have in me, I whisper out a hoarse and husky "yes." And still you are not satisfied.
"Yes, what?"
"Yes, you are my friend. And I am yours."
The surge of delight, of ferocity, of pleasure as you press forward, slowly but fiercely inside me brings me immediately to the brink of orgasm, and in your face, before I close my eyes, I can see that we have sealed this promise. For minutes or hours we are locked in passionate embrace, You inside me, above me, beneath me, beside me. I cling to you with thighs and heels, I use your shoulders for my support. In the moments that I can bear to open my eyes I catch glimpses of your smile and desire and delight. And when, finally, we collapse drenched in sweat and sex, in tangled limbs and exhaustion, spent and yet not satisfied, I sleep soundly with you deep inside me. I am possessed, of my own will, and completely - eternally - yours.
From behind, I could see the leather of his trousers, stretched taught across his hips, as he crouched, bent at the knees among ferns, just off the edge of the path. And there was an inviting gap at the waistband, just above his behind.
Cautious, but unrelentingly aroused, I approached him as quietly as my bare feet could carry me over the dirt path... avoiding stones and sticks, in quick almost dance-like steps.
As I drew closer, he slowed in his busy-ness, aware of my presence, tho not, perhaps, my intent. He did not stop, but his ears were pricked - attentive to my slightest motion, and the fact that he continued about his tasks, back still toward me made me curious. Compelled now, by not just the man but what he was up to, and aware that he knew I was there but chose to ignore me, I abandoned stealth for speed, and moved with renewed purpose in his direction.
Before I could fully close the gap between us, he stood - the sight of his muscles working to move his body enchanted me and I slowed again - and when he turned - though it took me a moment to trace the path from navel to neck to face - I realised he was you.
You held a small bouquet of shady wildflowers - almost foreign and savage in their colors and shapes - and presented them to me as you approached. You came to me - keeping me away from the place you had been, and well in the middle of the "safety" of the path. You asked if you might walk with me for a bit - explaining that the woods were not entirely safe, and when I told you that I had grown up in them and knew them like an old friend, you told me that even old friends have secrets - and that some of them held danger.
Although I was irked by your suggestion that I could not take care of myself, I enjoyed your voice - low and like the the shifting shadows of the leaves in the breeze and occasionally as bright as the sun that filtered through them - and wanted to hear more. Still, as you talked - and we moved along the shadowy path, deeper into the woods than I had intended to go - I traced the outline of my dagger against my thigh and found a comforting sense of safety in its lines and the coolness of the steel against my skin. As my fingertips followed the pattern of pommel to blade and back - in subconscious infinity loops over the quillions - I find my thoughts wandering back to the gap in your trousers and your thighs, and the heat of your breath on my cheek surprises me - as does the pressure of your body (so much taller and stronger than mine) behind me - as you lean in close to whisper for me to notice the rabbits in front of us, down the path.
Before I can see them, you spring, covering more ground in your few steps than I can keep up with, and I am sprinting to catch you. The rabbits are startled by your approach, and all I see of them are tails and paddle-like feet as they bound away in a flurry of shifting grass - until you turn, holding a small one by the ears, for me. The fire in your eyes as you hold it in front of me - your chest heaving with your breathing - is disarming, and I reach for the rabbit, following my instinct to protect it from whatever plans you have in mind. To my surprise - and delight - you don't pull it away from me, but instead offer it - at a respectful arms length - for me to hold and stroke and comfort. I can feel you watching my fingertips as they disappear in the shaking a****l's soft, warm coat - and I am suddenly self-conscious because I am imagining this same motion through your hair - along the back of your head, and your chest, and...
elsewhere.
We move more slowly now, the rabbit in my arms and you by my side - chatting idly about the trees and flowers and fruits along the way, until we land in a small meadow-like clearing; an oasis of sunlight in the middle of the wood. The rabbit has calmed, our conversation has surrendered to warm, sleepy silence, and when we settle into the grass of the clearing, I let it go. After a few tentative steps, it bounces away leaving the slightest hint of a trail of where it has been as it disappears back into the woods. Once it is gone, I lie back - sprawled across my crimson cloak, enjoying the perfumed cushion of crushed grass beneath me and the heat of sun sinking deeper through my clothes and warming my muscles.
I close my eyes and my breathing slows - the red wash of sunlight through my eyelids, the whisper of gentle breezes in the grass around us, and your low and steady breathing lull me into a state of relaxation.
When I wake, the evening chill has settled in, and before I open my eyes, I know you are watching me... and you know that I am roused from my dreaming. I can sense, more than hear, your movement, and before I could protest, not that I would, you are pressed against my side, your erection mirroring the dagger against my opposing thigh. I open my eyes, expecting to see your face, but instead am greeted by the crisp night sky, bedecked in stars and the gibbous moon.
"You have walked and talked with me, you know me, and I wish to be your very special friend." Your words, as rich as your voice, are a tease and a challenge, and I am feeling very brave.
I turn to look at you and the wildness in your eyes stops me, mouth open to respond, before I can speak. You seize my open mouth with yours, and in a heady rush, we are engaged in a most passionate kiss.
Your hands are not warm, but hot through the fabric of my dress, and they make quick work of finding the hem of my skirt (which has hiked its way up to mid-thigh while I was dozing). Across the cool skin of my thighs, I am trembling under your touch - and then you find my dagger. With a look, more amused than afraid, you unfasten the leather straps that bind my weapon, and place it well out my reach... kissing the chafed skin where it had been rubbing as we walked. The heat of your mouth resonates with the rawness of my skin, and the prickling pain of your kisses simultaneously makes me want you to stop, and to kiss me harder.
I am not thinking when I feel my hips rising to meet your mouth - your kisses trailing too slowly toward my sex, and the electric charge that courses through me. I am insanely wet, waiting for you, aching for you: your mouth, your hands, your cock - - I don't care - - I just want to satisfy the overarching need to be connected with you in the most intimate of ways.
"Am I your friend? Like these woods? Like the other a****ls who live here? Will you have me?"
I want to answer you with an immediate yes, but again you seal off my voice with your mouth... and then pull back. The look in your eyes warning me to be very careful with my answer. I know - from your face that whatever I say next will somehow seal my fate - and perhaps yours. For a hint of a moment, my desire subsides, as I consider the weight of your question, and then your hand is back on my skin; driving me wild and pushing the moment to crisis.
I nod my agreement, but you are not satisfied. "Say it. Tell me I am your friend."
You are poised between my thighs, your hands on either side of my shoulders, your feral face above me framed by night and stars, and I want more than anything, in this moment, to be yours - your friend, your lover, your soul mate, your partner in all things. My feet are on the bare skin of your calves, and I can feel your muscles taut - anxious.
I am bereft of the faculty to consider ramifications or implications or anything other than my surging desire to share myself with you - all that I am, all that I know, all that I have. With all the breath I have in me, I whisper out a hoarse and husky "yes." And still you are not satisfied.
"Yes, what?"
"Yes, you are my friend. And I am yours."
The surge of delight, of ferocity, of pleasure as you press forward, slowly but fiercely inside me brings me immediately to the brink of orgasm, and in your face, before I close my eyes, I can see that we have sealed this promise. For minutes or hours we are locked in passionate embrace, You inside me, above me, beneath me, beside me. I cling to you with thighs and heels, I use your shoulders for my support. In the moments that I can bear to open my eyes I catch glimpses of your smile and desire and delight. And when, finally, we collapse drenched in sweat and sex, in tangled limbs and exhaustion, spent and yet not satisfied, I sleep soundly with you deep inside me. I am possessed, of my own will, and completely - eternally - yours.
Dani
- 16.09.2021
- 17
- 0
