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Beyond The Past free porn video
Shilah crouched. One boot planted firmly on the ground with her leather-clad ass cheek balanced steadily on the heel of her opposite foot. Lithe fingers wrapped tensely around the shaft of a spear but her breathing was controlled; slow and steady. Regulated and practiced.
The surrounding forest air was spongy and humid, not a lick of breeze, which was cloaking her from detection. Rivulets of sweat cut lines through the grime that coated her ivory cleavage. The stagnant warmth didn’t bother her, though. Fresh meat from the boar she was tracking would be well worth the moment of temporary discomfort.
As if it was dismissing her hunting prowess, the little beast let out a snuffling grunt and went on about its business. Its nose rutted through the root-heavy dirt without a care for her threat.
“You will be my fucking meal,” she whispered as she slowly duckwalked through the brush. Silent and precise in her movement.
Within striking distance, she raised the spear to her shoulder, drawing back the razor-sharp blade until it lined up with her ear. A worn leather strap tethered the steel barb in place.
‘Wait for it to move... ju-uust a bit more. Wait... Wa-aait... Now!’
She lunged to a standing position while simultaneously heaving with all her strength. The spear sailed perfectly, swiftly cutting through the air in silence as it spiraled toward its mark. Shilah watched in what felt like slow motion as her projectile impaled into a birch-branch that hovered inches above the hog.
“Goddamnit!” she yelled and hung her head. The boar let out a victorious squeal and bounded deeper into the thicket.
Pulling the spear from the limb, she inspected the tip for damage. Fortunately, it was clean, not bent or broken. Unfortunately, the bloodless glisten of the blade meant yet another boiled-potato dinner for the deflated Shilah.
Darkness began to seep in and the dewy air started to cool. Her adrenaline was all but expended causing the sweat on her skin to raise a chill. Relegated to the failure of her hunt, she rested the spear on her shoulder and began the thirty-minute trek back out of the woods.
As she walked, Shilah reminisced back to the days when hunting was easier, before the bullets ran out.
She could have tried the bow again, but she hadn't been able to get the string taught enough. Without the right amount of tension, the arrow would never penetrate a boar’s thick hide. In the morning, she would load up and make a foraging run; farther than the twenty-mile radius she’d already picked clean. Bullets were probably her only hope for a decent pork-based meal.
Shilah reached the trailhead and emerged through the line of distinction marking where the thickly wooded trees met an open field.
She took in a deep breath, trading the forest’s musty stench of decaying leaves for the sweet meadowy smell of lavender. The perfumed air was evocative of summers past, transporting her mind to thoughts of her mother.
It had been almost five years since the event. Shilah was twenty at the time.
She and her mother were summering at the cabin when the bright light hit. She remembered it illuminating the night sky as fulgent as day. Only, it was white rather than the yellowish hue from the sun; like the burning luminescence of a massive flare. It lasted about twenty seconds then dimmed and extinguished. That was when its ensuing boom violently rattled the cabin, shattering every window with its reverberating shockwave.
Her mother - a registered nurse - had told her to stay put, that she was going to drive into town, and inquire about what had happened.
“Must’ve been an explosion at the plant. They might need me,” she had said. “I’ll come right back.”
But she never did return.
Shilah sighed as she stared across the field to the cabin which sat more than a hundred yards away. A thin layer of patina clung to its shingles. Miss-matched glass was fashioned to fill most of those blown out frames, frosty-white polyethylene tarps covered the rest.
She wished more than anything that she could go back. Back to when it was just the two of them. When the hunting and the fishing meant time spent together, bonding, telling stories, camping out under a dust cloud of stars.
Back to when it was done for fun, not for survival.
She plucked a wayward daisy and tucked it behind her ear. Its white petal-like rays framed nicely against her short, tousled dark hair. She whooshed her spearhead over the tips of knee-high grass as she trudged her way through. In her black leather pants, combat boots, and camo tank-top Shilah was a warrior playfully battling the imaginary evils of her world.
Midway through the mock duel with the weeds, a flash appeared and snapped her attention. It was off in the distance to her right, over a cornfield that framed the backside of the cabin.
The burst wasn’t large, not nearly the magnitude of the one from the event. Although, it was similar in its flare-like brightness. It flickered, grew horizontally, then dissipated shortly after depositing a dark object.
Shilah froze.
From where she was standing, it was hard to tell exactly what had fallen into the middle of the corn stalks. It appeared to have been human. But how?
Her heart began to race and instinct kicked in. Tightening the grip on her spear, she sprinted for the safety of her home.
By the time she reached the kitchen, she could hear rustling through the stalks. The window above the sink faced where cornrows ran only feet from the backside of the cabin. Its protective tarp was rolled up for ventilated relief from the daytime warmth of the waning summer. As she was reaching up to unpin the plastic, he appeared. A man. A living, breathing, in-the-flesh, black man.
A very naked, living, breathing, in-the-flesh, black man. She stared in awe.
“Hello?” he called out.
Shit. She spun from the window; ass pressed into the counter, chest heaving with anxiety. The verbal salutation shattered the laconic silence she was so accustomed to.
“Hello? Is someone in there?” His voice was moving to the side. “I don’t mean you any harm and I could use some help.” He was making his way to the front.
‘Shit.’
Part of Shilah wished he would wander off, just leave her be. But it was the first human contact she’d encountered since her mother disappeared. She gripped her spear and slinked toward the front foyer. How dangerous could a naked man be?
‘He did just plummet from a light in the sky,’ she thought. ‘Fuck.’
He knocked at the front door.
“Hello? I saw movement. I wouldn’t otherwise bother you, but this appears to be the only house for miles and it is getting dark, and well, I’m naked.”
He seemed sincere.
“Go away!” she yelled. It had been so long since Shilah used her voice above a murmur that her own outburst somewhat startled her.
“Please, miss. My name is Declyn. Doctor Declyn Samuels. May I please come in?”
“No!”
“Shit,” he muttered to himself through the door. “Okay, how about clothes?” he said a bit louder. “Do you have any shorts and perhaps a shirt? If you could just slide them out here then at dawn I will make my way into town. I promise.”
“There is no one there.”
“No one...where?”
“Anywhere.”
There was a pause, seconds that felt eternal. Shilah pressed her back to the wall and let out a sigh.
“I need to come in, ma’am. I need to ask you some questions. This is going to sound crazy, but can you tell me what year it is?”
It wasn't so much the nature of the question that took Shilah by surprise, but the question itself. So concerned with surviving, she had lost track of days, months, and years. It was roughly five winters since that night, give or take.
“I don’t know,” she finally answered.
“Tell me this, is it the year 2020?”
“No.”
Another eternal pause.
“If the team’s calculations were correct it is probably somewhere close to 2025.” He was muttering to himself, again loud enough that she could hear.
“Ma’am, listen. I’d rather explain this face to face but I understand your trepidation, I assure you I mean no harm.
“About a decade ago, a team of scientists developed the ability to travel through time. We were able to successfully jump to the past and return with no harm. This is our first attempt at a boomerang to the future. I was sent here on a reconnaissance mission, of sorts. I suspect the reason no one is anywhere, as you stated, is due to some sort of catastrophic foul-up. For lack of a better way to put it.”
Shilah was now sitting, knees bent, back and head still pressed to the wall, spear cradled in her lap. Her mind was reeling, trying to make sense of what he was saying.
“The power-source for the jumps,” he continued, “is a crystal. The Boeidine crystal to be exact. In 2020 it was discovered that the supply was finite and rapidly running out. Our theoretical goal was to use the remaining crystals to create a permanent portal. A doorway that would allow travelers passage to and from certain points throughout the past or the future. An eternal wrinkle in time, if you will.”
“Where is my mother?”
“Ma’am, I do not know the answer to that. But…” he took a breath. “But, if I can get back, I can warn them, put a stop to the experiment until we can run further tests. It would possibly reverse or at least avoid whatever it was that caused everyone to disappear. To do this, though, I will need some help and some supplies.” His voice lowered once again to a mutter, “Clothes would be a good starting point.”
She stood, unlatched the metal bolt, and creaked the cabin door open. He took a step back, hands raised in defense, her spear inches from his face. Her eye was drawn to the glint of a marble-sized rock clutched in the fingers of his left hand.
“Thank you,” he said timidly.
This abrupt end to the void of human interaction set Shilah’s curiosity ablaze. Trance-like, she stared at his body; the dark ebony tone of his skin, his face, his muscular chest, his exposed manhood. It was as if a dream was taking hold of her reality. She studied every detail in an unsettling, almost primitive gawk.
After a lengthy and uncomfortable silence, she finally stepped aside, lowered her weapon, and allowed him to enter.
He was a handsome man, younger and more fit than she envisioned for a scientist. He was clean and also smelled good, fresh. She guessed his age to be early forties. His character, by her immediate assessment, was trustworthy and not because she was desperate for social interaction.
Shilah was a psychology major before the world was put on pause. She had always been a good judge of character which directed her early-adulthood path toward a career in psycho-analysis. Granted, she had yet to figure out the inner mindset of that wild boar, but she was certain this man, Declyn, was of good nature and intent.
He stopped only a few feet into the cabin, far enough to be out of swinging-range of her spear. Nerves, mixed with modesty, showed in his demeanor. He anxiously covered his genitals with both hands.
“Right, I trust you are who you say you are, but for now I am holding on to this.” She shook her weapon at him. “There are clothes in the basement, you are welcome to rummage through and keep whatever fits.” She flipped on a light and pointed him down the stairs.
“You have power?” he noted as he shimmied past her.
“Yes and no. This cabin was already off the grid, fitted with solar panels on the roof. From what I can tell, power everywhere else is gone. Died a few harvests after the explosion.”
She perched on the top step and watched as Declyn carefully picked through crates of clothes. Her eyes studied his tight, athletic-looking buttocks. She began to feel a stir.
“I applaud your resourcefulness. It must have been difficult to survive on your own all this time.” He was holding up a black t-shirt with a silhouette of sasquatch on the front and the word Believe written under it. He looked up at her and smiled. “Interestingly enough,” he chuckled, “They do exist.”
“How are you going to fix all of this, Mr. Science?” Her serious eyes moved away from staring at his cock.
“Right. Well, the key is in this Boeidine crystal.” He slipped on the shirt and pinched the stone between his fingers, holding it up for her. “I will need to charge it, and unfortunately, solar power is not going to be sufficient.”
“How does that make you time travel?”
He made his way to a stack of denim, pulling out a pair of blue jeans that looked close enough to fit.
“If I can explode it, the crystal creates what’s called, black matter; a mass far denser than its surroundings. Essentially, it implodes the environment within a vicinity that is proportionate to its size. The bigger the crystal, the bigger the hole.” He unfurled the pants with a vigorous snap as if wrinkles would be a bother.
“Now, if I can do this,” he continued, “in that exact spot where I came out in your cornfield, theoretically, it will create a worm-hole and boomerang me back to the precise place and time I came from.” He pulled up the pants, opting to go commando. “Problem is, it has never been tested.” He held his arms outstretched to either side. “Well? What do you think?”
“You looked better naked.” She stood and flipped off the light.
Through all the commotion, the evening had sped into night. Shilah had started a fire in an outdoor firepit and was working to boil four potatoes. The nighttime air was pleasantly cool. A gentle breeze carried glowing embers into the night-sky like dozens of flitting fireflies. Horses rustled in a nearby coral.
“You haven’t told me your name,” he said.
“Shilah...Ramsey.”
“Do you always cook outside, Shilah Ramsey?”
“My propane didn’t last very long. I only use the indoor wood-burning stove in the colder months, otherwise, the house gets too hot.”
“You inquired about your mother earlier. May I ask, what happened?”
They were sitting on Adirondack chairs angled toward the fire. The orange glimmer of the flame delightfully lit Declyn’s face with dancing amber shadows. She contemplated her answer.
“Truthfully, I don’t know.” Her voice was somber, melancholy. Not at all indicative of her true playful spirit. “Right after the explosion, mom left to try and find out what had happened. When she didn’t return the next morning, I rode into town. There was no trace of her...or anyone. It was as if someone or something had taken them all.”
The air around the conversation was unnatural and strange. Forced. It was partly the subject matter, but also the sudden presence of another person that, to some degree, felt weird. Yet, to another degree, Dr. Declyn Samuels was innately comforting. Through the awkward haze, Shilah was slowly remembering how to pedal the bike of social interaction.
“Do you have a family?” she asked him.
He scoffed.
“Sorry,” he said, apologetic for the reaction. “No. No, I’ve never had time for a family, or for any type of a normal social life for that matter. Science tends to take hold of you and doesn't let go. Ever.” He was smiling. She liked his smile.
“Why do we need an eternal wrinkle in time?” The ambiance ebbed back to being awkward.
“Well,” he moved to the edge of his seat, “that is not exactly an easy answer.”
“Try me.”
“It was never going to be intended for public consumption, simply a scientific tool to manage things.” He put emphasis on things. “You see,” he continued, “With the ability to travel, we could control outcomes, eliminate wars, famine, disease. You’ve heard the saying about hindsight being 20/20?”
She turned away from him. “Nature takes its course for a reason. You people have a knack for fucking it all up.”
He shuffled quickly to kneel in front of her, placing his hands on her knees.
“I know it is hard to understand, Shilah.” His tone seemed passionate. “But what we are doing is evolutionary, shaping the world. And we are taking the necessary precautions.”
“Precautions?” she was shaking her head. “You call all of this...precautionary?” A tear welled showing her first sign of despair.
For a long moment, only the crackle of the fire filled the silence.
When Shilah finally spoke again, her voice was back to being soft, broken.
“I’ve been alone for so fucking long. Not knowing why. Not knowing how. Is my mother alive? Is she dead? And now I can’t help but wonder, was she transported to some other world by you and your experiments? I was never prepared for any of this.”
“As I said, your resilience is nothing short of astounding...” He paused, seemingly realizing how unempathetic and crass he sounded.
She looked down at him with searching eyes. He reached up and wiped her cheek with his thumb. “I can fix it,” he whispered. “But more importantly, Shilah, I truly am sorry.”
The course of the past few hours was crashing into Shilah’s chest, like waves pounding against a jetty. Over and over, relentlessly rolling in new bits of information. She leaned down close enough to smell him over the smoke and ash of the fire. Five years of solitude, of wondering, of longing.
Five years of living only for herself.
It was all hyper-focused to a singular point, cresting in her mind, she was no longer alone. She pressed her lips into his. For a moment, neither one of them moved.
The kiss invaded her mind, obliterating every thought of the past. Disintegrating the struggles of trying to make sense of cause and effect, the how’s, and the fucking why’s. Anguish was evaporating like rain droplets on the sands of a scorching-hot desert.
For the first time in forever, the return of physical contact had Shilah locked into the present.
She wanted to caress him, to touch him, to run her hands over his smooth skin just to feel the warmth of another being. To take advantage and explore every inch of his living, breathing, human body over and over again.
Heat burned inside her, raging with endorphins. It vibrated with each thrum of her rapidly beating heart, working its way through the labyrinth inside her head.
His grip tightened on her thighs letting her know...he was feeling it too.
Slowly, inexorably, she pressed harder into his mouth. Her hands slid to cradle his face, holding his stumbled chin in place as she pivoted to one side parting her lips. The tip of her tongue penetrated. Timidly at first, lapping along the length of where skin touched skin. She inhaled through her nose not wanting to let go, for anything.
Shilah felt her entire body succumb to the overwhelming sense of relief, burgeoning with eccentric panic and lust. Tremors of excitement pulsated along her nerves, unmasking sensations she had long forgotten existed. Sensations once dormant now woke with fervor and determination, seizing control.
She felt his hand move to the back of her head, thumb pressing firmly behind her ear as he pulled her into him, deepening the kiss. She pushed down harder, forcing more of her tongue into his receiving mouth. The shift of weight and pressure caused him to lose balance as he knelt.
Declyn stumbled backward, breaking the kiss sending him onto his ass, narrowly missing the edge of the fire-ring.
After a moment, he spoke in a stammer, “Well…umm…that was certainly an unexpected outcome.”
A flutter of awareness began to fall like gentle snowflakes settling in a frisson of stimulation blanketing Shilah’s skin. In her aroused state, she suddenly became self-conscious of her appearance.
“I need a shower,” she said nervously as she stood.
“Of course,” he replied. “I…uhh… Potatoes look like they’re about done. I’ll just bring them inside in a bit and wait.”
Shilah pinched her bottom lip and scurried off like a schoolgirl who had just been kissed in the supply closet.
In the shower, her mind swirled with excitement. It had been so long since she had prepared herself for a man, the feeling made her giddy.
Through the years, she had always kept up her hygiene. Cleanliness was paramount to staving off sickness and infection while solidifying her mental mindset. But this felt different. This was different.
This was for fun, not survival!
“And he’s a good kisser,” she murmured aloud with her face upturned into the spray. Warm water cascaded over her brewing smile.
“You are not so bad yourself.” His voice startled her, covering up as she spun to face him. Steam had not yet fogged over the shower glass, giving a clear view of her onlooker.
The sasquatch tee was gone. Dr Declyn was leaning against the threshold to the bathroom, shirtless and barefoot in his ill-fitting jeans. A swagger seemed to have taken over his nerdy scientist self.
“I’m sorry,” he continued. “If you want I will leave, but I just thought.” He paused and lowered his voice. “There’s no denying there was a connection back there, Shilah.” He stepped into the bathroom. “And well, I figured since I need a shower too, you’d probably want to save on water?”
She made him wait as if she had other options to weigh; lust gripped their locked stare.
“Cabin’s on a pretty deep well, but I like your survival instincts.”
With the ball of her foot, she nudged the glass door open. Hands slipped away revealing her pert breasts, taught stomach, and matted pubic mound. She watched anxiously as his gaze took her in.
Declyn stepped out of his jeans and into her slippery embrace. Their lips once again connected, this time with a fiery passion.
Slick bodies slid together as tongues slithered back and forth. Shilah hooked her heel behind his ass and pulled him closer. His swelling cock pressed into her thigh causing a slight hitch in her breath. She reached down to take it, hold it, stroke it. Finally.
It felt foreign in her hand, hot and pulsating. Alive. Thick. She needed it. Craved it. Knelt down onto the hard tile basin to suckle and savor it. She moaned deeply as he hardened in her mouth.
Declyn’s hands pushed against the glass wall to hover over her. He spread his feet wide for stability. The suction from her suckling tongue forced his knees to buckle.
“Oh, fuck!”
She bobbed up and down in short rapid strokes, lips wrapped tight around his thick bulbous head, one hand cupping his balls. Her free hand slid between her legs, two fingers found her warm wet pussy.
It became too much.
She broke from his cock and stood, kissing him once again, frantically whispering, “Fuck me...now!”
He spun her, nudged her feet out to the sides with his ankle, then pushed her hands up to where he was bracing moments earlier. She arched the small of her back and offered herself to him.
One arm wrapped around her chest and gripped firmly on her throat, his other hand held his shaft. Over the hiss of the shower spray, she could hear his breathing, animalistic. It was exactly how she wanted him. Exactly how she envisioned it all those nights alone, fucking herself to sleep. Carnal-like.
Night after lonesome night, that was how the reverie played out for Shilah. To satisfy her urges, to appease her isolated imagination. With each passing sunset, the fantasy became more and more exaggerated, more and more depraved. Sensual sex for Shilah might eventually be restored. But there, in the heat of that shower, in the thralls of rekindled passion, she just needed him to fuck her raw.
She felt him hesitate like he suddenly realized he was afraid. Afraid to ruin her. Timorous. Like a nervous boy reluctant to take the sanctity of his lover’s virginity, possibly a virgin himself.
She bit her bottom lip, leaned her head back into him, and lustfully growled, “Don’t stop. Fuck me, goddamnit!”
Still holding the shaft of his cock, he ran the head along her slit. Then, in one swift motion, shoved it in until he could go no further. She gaped her mouth in a silent moan, too lost in the euphoria to find sound. This was her beginning to the end.
He held motionless letting her pussy walls settle and envelop his girth.
“God, Declyn. Fuck me. Please!”
He drew back and thrust up again.
“Harder. I want it harder!” she commanded.
Again he pushed, his waist slapping into the flesh of her ass.
“Again...goddamnit!” Her right hand dropped from the shower glass to find his on her hip. Fingers intertwined, squeezing securely.
He tightened his grip, firm around the base of her neck. He bent slightly, then drove repeatedly up into her. Shilah cried out in ecstasy lifting up onto her toes, cumming in blissful waves, almost with each thrust.
A feeling of intense release washed over her as smaller waves of climax gripped her pussy walls. They tightened, clamping around his cock.
Muscles balled up in his arms and the thrusting stopped. Frozen deep inside of her, a low guttural moan emanated from his core as he filled her with his warm ejaculate.
For a moment they stayed locked, his body slightly slumped onto her back, hand slowly releasing its grip from her neck. Both fought to catch their breath in the gentle hiss of the shower.
His cock was still rigid as he reluctantly retracted it from her.
Shilah suddenly didn’t know what to do. She stayed facing away from him, her heart beating in her throat, thoughts aflutter with chaos. Panic. Embarrassment.
Her space once again felt invaded and her mind was back in the foyer wishing he would just leave her be.
He stepped away. With a deep calming breath, she turned.
Declyn looked as scared as she felt and for a moment they just stood, naked, exposed, together.
“You are remarkable,” he finally whispered.
She didn’t know whether she wanted to cry, or laugh, or scream. All her instincts were still locked like the frozen gears of an unwound clock.
Until slowly…they began to tick. She smiled and melted down to the shower basin. He lowered opposite of her, water raining atop their entwined legs like a warm springtime spate.
Declyn began to chuckle.
“What‘s so funny?”
“This,” he said. “It oddly feels like a dream. This morning I was going over coordinates with a team of vastly intelligent people dressed in lab coats carrying clipboards. We ran through scenarios and outcomes. Looked at every possible angle and when the switch finally flipped, I wasn't even sure I would emerge on the other side alive. And now...”
“And now?”
“And now, it seems I am in the face of love.”
The words hit her harder than the shockwave from the event. Her mind was in no condition for a reasonable reply.
“About this boomerang jump, will I go with you?”
He took a moment to answer, not the reply he was probably expecting.
“Uhh, no. No, I’m sorry but the crystal is only big enough for me.”
“I see.” She raised her face up into the water stream as if she was hiding any emotion in the spray.
“I just have to get back, Shilah, and I can put a halt on the experiment.”
“And what happens to me?”
“Well, I suppose you will revert back to how you were in 2020, before the explosion.”
“My mom will be back?”
“Theoretically, yes.”
“And my memory?”
“I didn’t think your memory was affected, was it?”
“My memory of this? Of us?”
He swallowed hard as his mind seemed to be processing those possibilities. Cum still leaked from the tip of his deflated cock. His eyes looked hollow like he had been punched.
“I’m not entirely sure,” he said. “Technically, this will have never happened.”
“I see,” she said again, smiling painfully. “What supplies will you be needing?”
~~~ * ~~~
“Shila.” She heard her mother call from the front.
Shilah cut off the kitchen faucet and came into the foyer still drying her hands on a dishrag. Her mother stood holding the cabin door open. A strange man in a business suit and sunglasses was standing before her. He looked like a government official, perhaps a politician needing signatures to shut down the chemical plant. He removed the shades and smiled.
For some reason, Shilah felt a stir, like deja-vu.
“Shilah,” her mother continued, “this man says he knows you. I told him that was highly unlikely as we don’t live here but a few weeks each summer. Anyway, he claims his name is–”
“Declyn,” Shilah whispered.
He smiled at her recognition and stepped closer.
Reaching into the breast-pocket inside of his blazer, he pulled out a rectangular black-felt box.
Declyn leaned in. “Time travel can erase our errors, but then it seems history is written for a reason. Destiny... Sometimes it gives you exactly what you want at precisely the wrong time. So, that begs this question; are there actually any errors encapsulated within the course of fate?”
She wasn’t entirely sure what the fuck he was talking about.
“I have destroyed what was left of the crystals but–” He opened the box.
Shilah gazed upon a silver necklace encased within; two glimmering pearl-sized Boeidines hung from a claw-like setting.
“Good for one boomerang…in case it was our history that needed repeating.”
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