Zoo
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Zoo free porn video
‘I need to tell you about Zoo.’
Pete and Jenny were in bed when Pete said this – or nearly said it. Variations of those words floated inside his head. But though his mouth was open, they didn’t come out.
Instead Pete lay back, pressed his chin to his chest, and watched Jenny draw the valley of her tongue up the length of his dick.
What a relief: he was getting hard. Maybe he didn’t need to say anything about Zoo.
He’d seen Zoo that lunchtime. As he stomped his ski boots against the decking of the terrace outside the restaurant where he'd arranged to meet Jenny, Pete had looked back towards the run he’d completed. He watched another skier’s progress along the same route. It was only after she’d stopped by the restaurant, clipped off her skis, and lifted her hat that he realised who it was. Zoo. She was headed in his direction. Pete pulled his hat lower.
‘Pete?’ No mistaking her voice, rich as syrup. Zoo clunked next to him. ‘My God!’ They both reddened.
‘It’s – nice to see you,’ he said.
‘Nice,’ Zoo repeated, slowly. She pulled off her sunglasses. ‘You here alone?’
‘No, I –’ Pete said. ‘I’m with someone.’
‘I've missed you.’ Zoo held eye contact long enough to make it uncomfortable then turned, twisting on the tip of a ski boot, and headed for the restaurant door. She looked back. ‘Am I allowed to see you?’
‘Sure,’ he said. ‘Sometime.’
Zoo hesitated again, then went inside. Pete stayed out on the terrace until the sweat subsided from his forehead.
Pete hadn’t thought about Zoo for ages. They’d met years ago at some stupid university party: he’d passed her in a corridor, she’d been leaning against a door frame, her legs crossed like toothbrushes in a cup. He was drunk and had lost his friends, and she was alone. So he stopped to talk.
That memory was clear. But nothing about the following few hours, and so he’d been surprised, waking in bed in the middle of the night, by Zoo’s fingers gripping his arm. She lay next to him, sleeping furiously, hot as a radiator, her teeth grinding. Her eyelids were scrunched shut like tiny wrung-out towels.
Pete had shifted himself up and looked around. A tea-stained travel mug on its side by his mattress smelled of whisky and there was lipstick under its rim. A pair of silk panties lay underneath. He followed, with a wondering finger, the tracks of scratches on his chest. He ached. He must have done it at last. Lost his virginity. A pity he couldn’t remember it.
He looked at Zoo, and felt relieved that she was pretty. Her dark hair – he had no idea then if it was brown or black – was tucked behind her ears. Her other hand lay on the pillow; the tip of her thumb at her lips. Pete peeled the duvet down. Zoo was on her back, one leg drawn up to the side. Her naked body was firm and athletic enough to excite him afresh. Her skin glowed dully. Maybe her breasts were a bit small. Still. Odd that their dark nipples didn’t stick out – they seemed to sink back into her body. Curious, he touched one.
Zoo stirred. Her eyes widened then focused on him. She withdrew her thumb from her mouth and found his half-masted cock. Pete shifted onto his knees, proud of his growing erection. Zoo twisted onto her front across the bed and kneeled. Somehow she made his cock find its place naturally; first nuzzled into the crack of her backside, then, as Zoo inched forward, it slid until the tip touched the folds of her pussy. She pushed back and her warmth flooded his every nerve. Pete thrust against her and raw enthusiasm led him to take such deep strokes that he came out and entered her afresh every time. Sometimes he missed and he laughed, but each time she helped him back in Zoo sighed and bucked. Her spine twisted and caught the light. As Pete kept going, her knees slid apart on the mattress until she was almost flat on it. He was above her, his tender skin sliding over her back, his chin kneading her shoulder, until at the last moment he drew his hips back and came somewhere.
Pete lay next to Zoo, gasping. She stroked the sinews of his neck. He wanted her to say it had been wonderful.
‘You’re the second person I’ve slept with,’ she said.
That was Zoo.
Pete saw Jenny as soon as he entered the restaurant. She was squeezed into a table seat by a window; the winter sun that came through it gave her a halo. When he sat down Jenny leaned across for a kiss. She had a beer ready.
‘Isn’t it amazing, Pete? A winter wonderland.’
Pete nodded. It had been his idea to do this before their wedding. Up here, in the thin air, you couldn’t think of anything else; only how your skis cut the snow, the click of chairlifts warmed by the sun, one more run, one more run. Verbier isn’t just a place, he’d said when he booked it. It’s an atmosphere.
Jenny couldn’t ski. She’d learn, though. With lessons in the morning they could ski together in the afternoon. That sounded fine to Pete.
And now they were finally here, Jenny was still smiling. ‘Want to hear about my lesson? You might never marry me if I tell you. I’ll add it to my hopeless list: Baking. Being On Time. Now Skiing. I’m going to sit a Master’s in hopelessness.’
Jenny chatted away, happy. He should have mentioned Zoo while she was like this. She’d have been curious, never jealous. He finished his beer quickly, listening to her. Jenny went for another. It might slow you down this afternoon, she said.
Pete watched her weave towards the bar and when she disappeared he looked around for Zoo.
He couldn’t see her. But he’d never known where Zoo was. That had been the problem. Even after that first time with her she’d confused him. The morning after she’d taken his virginity he’d stumbled into his en-suite and Zoo was on his loo, his toothbrush in her mouth, a trickle of toothpaste crawling down her chin. You and me, forever, she seemed to say.
Zoo had stayed all day without dressing and he spent most of the time staring at her. When he finally pulled on his boxers – out of sheepishness more than anything – she wrestled them off in a way that excited him. On her knees, in the middle of his room, she sucked him off with his underwear helpless at his ankles. The little come he had left fizzed through the gap between her front teeth and she held out her tongue to show him. He slumped to the floor and clung to her. The whole world was reduced to her and he wanted to tell her. But Zoo turned solemn then and placed a warning finger to his lips. Without a word, she dressed and left. He knew nothing about her. Only her first name: Zoo.
Jenny was grinning when she returned with the beer. ‘You look pensive,’ she said. ‘Having second thoughts?’
Pete looked up. ‘Second thoughts about what?’
‘Skiing with me.’
‘Just thinking,’ he said. Thinking about Zoo: about how after she’d left that time he hadn’t seen her for weeks. He couldn’t contact her: fruitless to look her up online. So he’d walked for miles around campus. He found her in a town bar with someone else. She’d looked at Pete as if she only just recognised him.
Through a friend he’d got her number and asked her to the pictures. She said yes, but didn’t appear. He arranged drinks. She called off. But every so often she’d turn up at his door and say hello in that low voice and she’d fuck him in her wild, sensual way. Sometimes she stayed the night, folded into him and he couldn’t picture her anywhere else. The next day: gone. He had other girlfriends, but only briefly. None compared to Zoo because so much was unknowable about her.
Jenny compared, of course. Pete stood. ‘Let’s ski, Jen. Let’s concentrate on the snow.’
‘Sure?’
‘Sure. I’ll catch you up. Just let me pee first.’
Pete had skied here before, and knew the toilets were through the back and that steam rose off the tiled floor there; he was careful not to slip. When he pushed through the toilet door, he held it open for the person behind him.
Zoo followed him in.
Pete gasped when he saw her. ‘Zoo! You can’t come in here.' His voice echoed. His eyes darted around. The toilets were empty.
‘Are you married, Pete?’
Pete twisted his face. ‘Engaged. Why?’
Behind them the outer toilet door rattled, warning of an approach. Pete backed into a cubicle, and Zoo squeezed in behind. As she closed the cubicle door, a man’s ski-booted footsteps passed, heading for the urinal. He whistled.
‘Don’t let me stop you,’ Zoo whispered in Pete’s ear. ‘I’ve seen it before.’
Pete looked at her. He had no option. He turned his back and undid his ski pants. He heard Zoo slot the lock of the cubicle. It was as if a moth was fluttering inside him. He began to pee and tried to hold himself down and keep his aim.
Outside the cubicle the hand-drier roared. Footsteps grew louder and then dulled as the other man passed on his way out. Then silence.
‘How did you guess?’ he said, looking at the tiles above the cistern.
‘It’s a big ring.’ Zoo pressed up and looped her arm around him. ‘It was a shock.’ Her hand rested on the fingers holding his cock.
‘Don’t,’ he said. But he did not brush her away and after a moment his hand dropped and let her hold him as he urinated. Zoo began to stroke him with two fingers. He was hard; she was aiming nowhere. Up the cistern, the wall tiles. She drew his foreskin back tightly until the last dribble came out and she slid her wet fingers over the head.
‘Please. I’ve got to get back. Jenny – my fiancé – is waiting. I’ve got to ski.’
Zoo twisted him around. She was already squatting in her ski boots, ready to press his cock into her mouth.
Pete closed his eyes and spread his hands against the wall above her. Zoo held him at her lips, masturbating the base of his erection between forefinger and thumb. Then a tighter grip, adding another finger, then her whole fist working him. Then between her teeth and into her mouth.
Jesus. No-one knew him better.
At one point his cock wobbled and popped out and skidded up her cheek as far as her ear. Zoo grabbed it again and masturbated it violently and his dick looked obscene lolling like that outside his ski pants. Zoo thrust it back into her mouth. It poked out her cheek then touched the roof of her mouth, surrounded always by her tongue.
This was crazy, but it was too late to think. He held himself still as he came in sharp pulses.
Zoo rolled back on her heels, against the tiles. Her brown eyes looked up at him. Some of his come had strayed on her lips and she licked it in an absent way.
‘Told you I missed you,’ she said.
Jenny and Pete completed a single run that afternoon. Jenny was all ungainly turns; on her back more often than not, skis crossed, but she would not give up. Pete helped her up each time.
At the bottom of the slope he suggested another try. But after rejoining the lift queue, a chattering of schoolchildren pushed past. It was enough for Jenny.
‘Fuck it,’ she said. ‘Let’s go back. Let’s make love, Pete.’
Jenny always called it that, when she talked about what they did in bed.
At the chalet, Jenny clawed herself out of her ski suit and in her underwear poured them wine. Watching her do this was painful: it magnified her innocence. She sipped her drink and looked at him with those deep blue eyes of hers. Her hair spilled over her shoulders like a snowdrift. He found himself counting what he loved about her physically: her wonderful big breasts. Those legs. And hidden by her panties, her beautiful straw-coloured pubes.
She came over, began to undress him. I ought to shower first, he said. But Jenny wanted to make love now. Please. It’s what this holiday is about. Us.
They fell onto their bed. She nuzzled his neck and stroked him and kissed down his body until she reached his soft cock. He panicked: would Jenny taste something? Would he be able to get hard again? That’s when he wanted to tell her, not the truth, but something like it. But the words would not form.
But he did get hard and when his cock slumped out of Jenny’s mouth, she slid up his body and kissed him. He knew what she would do. When they made love, Jenny wanted their skin to touch at all times. It was his warmth, she said. She liked to be on her back on top of him and look down and see his cock enter her, and pull her legs wide. Like giving myself, she once said. I want to give myself to you.
They made love like that, Pete thrusting from below, Jenny’s hands tucked under her knees, pulling herself open. He focused on the physical act, because if he thought of much else, he’d soften with guilt. He concentrated on her white skin and the gasps she smothered by putting her mouth on his. He listened to the wet smack of each thrust. He grabbed at her breasts shifting up and down on her body, enjoying her nipples hard in his palms. And yet, in the rising moment when he came, it was the recollection of Zoo’s small, blind breasts and the slick bareness between her legs, that forced herself into his mind.
After, Jenny and Pete lay together. He’d always liked these moments with her. When he’d met Jenny – a couple of years after Zoo – it was this shared intimacy he appreciated most. Like Zoo, Jenny had stayed overnight the first time. But she'd given him her number and called later to ask, should we do lunch or something? Pete once told Jenny that he knew then that she was the one.
Even then, Zoo had briefly interfered. Maybe a week after he and Jenny had started dating he was alone in the flat he’d just moved into when the doorbell buzzed. When he answered, Zoo sidled into his living room and sat on his sofa, first dangling her legs over the end, then folding them under her. ‘You’ve stopped calling.’
Pete sat at a table, across from her. ‘Why do you care?’
Zoo didn’t seem to hear. She rose and went into his tiny kitchen. ‘I’ll make tea,’ she said. She remembered to hold down the kettle’s button; it wouldn’t boil otherwise.
Zoo laid his mug by his elbow. Behind him, her fingers pecked at him, adjusting his collar, stroking his hair this way and that.
‘I'm lonely without you,’ she said, her voice heavy and sweet, her breath oven-hot behind his ear.
His erection made him shift.
‘I love your dick. I love you,’ Zoo said.
Instinct drew his arm back to scoop Zoo forward, over the table until her upper body lay flat on it and her hips nudged the tea which lapped over the table. Pete lifted her jumper and tugged her leggings down. Her panties were baby blue with an intricate arabesque waistband, but not new.
‘This what you want. Isn’t it, Zoo?’
He tried to grip her but there was no hold. His hands slid into helpless claws that could only pull her panties aside. Just the look of her body drove him as wild as she was. He was inside her in a moment, and she was wet so their fucking made a raw, sucking sound that aroused him even more.
Zoo looked back and urged him into her with her gasps. But he did not last long. Two or three thrusts and he pulled out and worked his foreskin forward and back. A watery burst shot out of him into the folds of her jumper.
Pete rested his hands on her cheeks. ‘That’s the last time, Zoo,’ he said. ‘Don't mess me around any more. I’m seeing someone. Maybe I love her.’
The sun shone every day of their skiing holiday. Even on the last day, the last run before lunch, the sun’s rays were so sharp that shadows striped the piste. Pete wasn’t thinking about Zoo when he roared around the bend before the restaurant. But there she was, at the side, her skis planted crosswise in the snow, waiting. He skidded to a stop just beyond her.
‘Would you meet me tonight?’ Zoo shouted. ‘By the hermitage? It won’t take long.’
That evening he looked out the chalet window. He could see the hermitage from there, so he could see Zoo too. She lay a little distance away, outstretched on a snow bank, in front of a copse of pine trees. She wore pale pink jeans and a black Puffa.
He came out and sat on the snow next to her. Out here, the air was so full you could bring it into your lungs and taste the woods behind and the snow below and the chocolate and diesel drifting from God knows where. Above them, dense stars lay uncountable; the moon sharpened to a blade.
‘A winter wonderland,’ Zoo said. ‘The best part of living here.’
Pete wasn’t sure if she was joking. ‘I haven’t got long,’ he said. ‘Jenny’s showering.’
‘I’m a chalet girl, Pete. I like it. Gave me time to think about everything.’ Zoo’s words came out of her mouth in misty puffs.
‘That’s what you had to tell me?’
Zoo shook her head. ‘No. I wanted to ask if you still cared for me.’
‘Why?’
Zoo cleared her throat. ‘Because I’d marry you.’
She sat up and hugged her knees. In front of her, the snow twinkled as if reflecting the sky. Her gaze lay on the ragged band of mountains across the valley, bleak and dark and barely visible.
‘You're crazy. You always run away, Zoo. Always someone better.’
She made a noise; a sigh or a short laugh. She was still looking at the mountains and now he did too. He stared for so long he began to spy lonely gleams of light where people must be alive.
‘It wasn’t about someone better,’ she said. ‘I just find it hard.’
A snow machine passed on the road in front of them. Zoo started to claw snow into balls either side of her. When it was quiet again, she said, ‘Did I ever tell you about the time I packed a suitcase when my dad left? I was eight. They found me at the train station.’
‘No,’ Pete said.
‘Two years later, my mum sat on my bed and told me my uncle had kissed her. That time I ran for days. And when my first boyfriend –’
Zoo stopped. Her head wilted.
Peter’s fingertips skated over the snow to touch the back of her hand.
‘So what Zoo? What are you saying?’
Zoo’s looked at Pete’s mouth. ‘I’m saying this.’
She leaned in and kissed him. Everything was familiar about it. Its flavour, her tongue dragging along his teeth and outside over his lips and down to his neck. No-one could kiss like her. They were still kissing as he began to unbuckle himself and pull Zoo, stumbling, into the shelter of the pines.
There they faced each other. Their breathing formed wordless clouds between them.
He unzipped her jacket. Underneath she wore a plain t-shirt. She kneeled on a bed of pine needles to undo her own jeans, lowering them, with her panties, to her knees.
She looked fragile. Her body was gently yellowed by distant streetlights, but the exposed part of her was explicitly framed: her legs and her pussy, sharp as a paper-cut. They kissed again, mouths open, clacking teeth. Their breathing, through their noses, sounded like steam escaping.
Three of Pete’s fingers ploughed the length of Zoo’s slit, the middle one slipping inside. But there wasn’t time enough. He turned her and bent her onto hands and knees and fumbled with his buttons. He stared at her backside; the dark crevice dividing her cheeks, definite as an axe-cut. That view had haunted him. He levered out his cock behind her and pressed himself inside her and everything was known and intimate. A swelling that was more than physical; it was an urge to know, to understand, to hold the hand inside her. He built up a physical rhythm against her that sounded like twigs snapping. Zoo gripped the flaking soft bark at the base of a tree just in front of her head. Pete smacked harder, coming out and going in again until they tumbled sideways and righted themselves with his cock still in her and Zoo was moaning as if grieving. He shoved her t-shirt beyond her shoulder blades. Her spine formed a concave bowl that gathered pine needles in its hollow. Her skin shone as if the winter air was condensing on it. More whimpering gasps from Zoo. Pete tried to hold her hips, but it was the same as always: she was so slick that he had to keep adjusting his grip until he was clinging to the rubbery cheeks of her bottom with his fingernails.
Pete pulled out. Rested on his haunches.
‘I care, Zoo,’ he gasped. 'Always have.'
Zoo reached back and placed her hands right where Pete’s fingernails had left their impression, and when he saw this, Pete put his hand to his lips. He drooled over his fingers and smeared his cock until it shimmered. He leaned forward, held himself to Zoo’s backside and pressed, and at first nothing and then his cock was throttled by her tightness and Zoo slid forward, head against the ground.
He couldn’t last. This whole thing couldn’t. He wondered what it would be like to come inside her again, and the act overtook the thought and he was releasing himself in constricted, glorious bursts. He held himself against her; he loved her smell, but she was so cold it made him shiver.
There was silence after Pete popped out of her, reared back and zipped himself up. Zoo lay as she was, her body still tense and presented to him. He saw himself seeping out of her backside. She was so still he was about to ask if she was okay when she rolled onto her side and then sat up. Up came her panties and her jeans.
‘I have to hurry,’ Pete said. ‘She’ll be out.’ He brushed needles and snow off his jacket and his jeans, with precise care. ‘I mean – I can’t just – we can’t. Can we?’
No answer. He looked. Zoo was gone.
Next morning, on the airport bus, Pete gazed through the slush-spattered window, towards the other side of the valley. It was bathed by a weak sun and he could make out clusters of houses, more than he’d thought.
Jenny tugged at him. ‘Hey dreamy, don’t look sad. What are you thinking?’
‘Just wondering,’ Pete said.
‘Wondering what?’
‘About those people on that mountain, isolated. How can they live up there?’
‘Who knows?’ Jenny rested her head on Pete’s shoulder. ‘But that’s why I love you, Pete. You’re always thinking about others.’
Libbie
- 31.10.2021
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