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The run is more strenuous than you expected. Youâre struggling to keep up, but heâs just plowing forward ahead of you on the trail, fast, confident, in control. Thereâs a burning in your calves and quads, and your tongue is completely dry as your lungs wheeze labored air past it.
âBabe, hold on, waitââ you say, hunching over, grabbing your knees, gasping.
He laughs, breaking pace. âWhat, tired already? And I thought you were the one who did track in college.â
You glare back at him, still sucking in oxygen like there isnât enough in the entire state park for the both of you. Itâs like heâs barely broken a sweat. What the hell?
âSprinting,â you manage to get out, âNot long-distance.â You sit down on the trunk of an enormous fallen redwood tree on the side of the trail.
He pulls the tube of his Camelbak off the hook and offers it to you. You grab the silicone tip and shove it into your mouth, guzzling the water voraciously as it hisses and gargles through the line.
âMmm, I like the way you suck on that,â he says. You drop the tube and throw it back at him, rolling your eyes.
âYou would say something like that when Iâm literally dying here.â
He chuckles, a smug smirk on his face. âAlways the drama queen.â
You wipe the sweat from your face and take in the scenery. The air is cool and crisp and refreshing here amidst the redwoods. You can finally start to feel it wicking away the beads of perspiration. All around you is damp, packed earth on the trail blanketed with pine needles and fir cones. Thereâs a bird chirping somewhere nearby, its calls piercing through the muffled backdrop of a waterfallâs roar somewhere in the distanceâ
You notice his eyes are glued to your chest.
âWhat, why are you staring at me like that?â
âGod, I fucking love it when you get all sweaty.â
Warmth flushes over your face. Part of you wants to melt into the ground, part of you erupts into self-consciousness. Surely, your makeup is already messed up (and why did you even put it on in the first place? You knew youâd be running) and your hair must be frizzy in this humidity now even though itâs in a pony, and you must already smell like shit even though you doubled up on deodorant, and itâs just a sports bra and shorts, youâre not even done up, and youâre gross and have sweat lines and why canât you ever just turn off your mind and take a compliment, God, why? You shift your posture and cock your head at him.
âReally?â
âYeah.â
Thereâs something about him, something about the firmness of his voice and the directness of his tone that awakens a kind of primal feminine ferocity in you. His eyes look over you, up an down. Thereâs a salacious glint in that gaze, a devilish lust simmering beneath the surface. You canât take how heâs looking at you, itâll only lead to one placeâŚ
âDonât⌠do that.â Your eyes flicker to the ground, to his bare chest, to his muscled arms, to his dick beneath those loose running shorts (wouldnât it be nice if it got hard?), then back to the ground.
âDo what, tell my girlfriend how hot she is?â
That masculine aggression. Always so forward. A kind of bubbling giddiness rises in your stomach. You canât help but smile. The boy likes you, and itâs the best feeling in the world.
âYouâre cute,â you say, standing up and pecking him on the lips. âOkay, I think Iâve recovered. We can get going again.â You turn to continue down the trail, but he puts his hands on your waist and pulls you back.
âI mean it, you know.â
When he presses his lips against you this time, itâs different, more intense, more sensual and deliberate. You soften completely. You canât help it. Youâre paralyzed to resist. You place a hand on his beating heart as his fingers traipse their way down your sides to grab your ass. Your lips are slippery over his as you kiss him back. When he grazes his tongue over your lower lip, it sends shock waves through you. Thereâs something comforting and stimulating in his presence, a grounding kind of aura that makes you feel safe and secure and like everything will be okay so long as he is there to protect you and lead you and direct you and give youâ
Panic jolts you out of the reverie. You pull back and look around paranoidly.
âCome on, Damien, weâre in public, Iââ
âI donât care.â He pulls you back in, presses his body against yours, locking you in the embrace. You can feel him growing hard against you, and you canât help but like that in spite of yourself. âI want you,â he growls with hot breath, nibbling on your ear. It tingles and raises goosebumps all over you as he continues to coo in your ear: âYou know what? Fuck it. Letâs do it. Right here. Right now.â
Adrenaline attacks you. The prospect is wild, audacious, unhinged, really. A crazy risky thing.
âWhat, youâre serious? Right now? What about all the people we passed back there?â
That only seems to fan the flames in his eyes.
âLetâs see if we can finish before they get here⌠or⌠maybe weâll just let them watch.â
You laugh in stunned incredulity. Can you actually do it? Is this actually going to happen? Something about it is enticing and invigorating and oh so erotically taboo. Thereâs a kind of ephemeral charge that builds in the atmosphere between you. You look around. The forest is flat in all directions, no place for privacy in sight.
He squeezes your ass more, massaging his fingertips into you. Thereâs a glowing warmth spreading in your chest and a tingling in your crotch, and for some reason you donât want him to stop. He slides a finger up your back, tracing your spine over the residual sweat, sending electrifying shivers radiating out to your limbs as it gets closer to your chest. Then he slides it over and cups your breast.
âWe donât even have any condomsââ
Your own involuntary moan cuts you off when he rubs your nipple over the fabric. Waves of sensitive pleasure echo from the location. Is your pussy really already wet? God, youâre not that much of a slut, are you? Are you really going to let him fuck you out here in the open? And completely unprotected?
âI want to feel what itâs like inside you. The real you, no barriers.â
(do it. have his baby)
You donât know what comes over you. You canât help yourself, maybe itâs the thrill of potentially getting caught or the fact that youâre in nature and something seems right about it or maybe itâs just that youâre ovulating and crazy horny and not thinking straight. Does there even have to be a reason? You want him. Itâs true. You want him inside of you. You drop your hand and grope his cock over the bulging shorts. Heâs so fucking hard.
âFuck it.â
A feral passion takes over as you grope at each othersâ bodies. You both know whatâs going to happen now, seemingly reading each othersâ minds. You pull down his shorts. His cock springs up. Itâs twitching with bloodflow, already slightly oozing precum. You stroke it as he lifts up your sports bra and starts sucking on your tits, God that feels good to have his tongue circling around and around your nipple. You canât take it anymore, and apparently neither can he.
He grabs your hips, twists you around, and bends you over the redwood trunk. Yes, you love it when he takes charge, takes control, takes you on this ravenous adventure. Your heart is pounding, thudding in your chest, pulsing like a drum in your ears at the thought that at any moment, someone could find you. You want this, though, you want to give into him. You want to be fucked out here in the open in nature. The rush is all-consuming, undeniable, and scary as all hell. But youâre loving it.
You brace your arms against the the log. He jerks down your Spandex shorts, and they fall at your ankles. Your wet cunt is exposed to the air, creaming with grool in feverish anticipation. He slides his fingers over your clit. You let out a little yelp at the sensitivity, but he grabs your mouth to silence you. God, you love it when he dominates you. Thatâs right, take control of your woman like a man should. Then you feel it, the glans of his cock rubbing over your slit at the entrance. You moan and lean your ass back at him.
âGod, youâre such a tease, just put it in alreadyâhuuuhhhâ you gasp at the sudden penetration. Youâre so wet that his whole shaft just slides right in. He lets out a low grunt. Heâs so deep inside, you can feel it in your womb, the tip of his manhood pressed right up against your cervix.
(imagine his sperm impregnating your egg)
He grabs your ponytail and a fistful of ass. God, yes, take it all. You submit your body to him completely as he begins to thrust. At this angle, his cock grazes right across your G-spot. The warm friction is just so goddamn good, back and forth, back and forth, back and forth, he takes you. The gliding between your flesh, raw and unprotected, builds rising waves of unadulterated pleasure.
The rhythmic pumping accelerates, and the power of his thrusts continually knocks your forearms against the tree bark. Itâs hard with a kind of furry splinteriness, but you donât care. In fact, it makes it even hotter. This is what sex is supposed to be, isnât it? Real, primal, animalistic. You know it deep down, even if youâd never tell it to anyone. You like that heâs taking you like this in the open. Youâre supposed to be all strong and independent, but all that melts to blissful submission when heâs in control. You completely lose yourself.
Itâll be your dirty little secret. For just the two of you. Thereâs no point in denying your base urges. Itâs only natural, and no one is here to judge you out in the wild. Thatâs just how it is. The strong male claims the fertile female, and new life is formed. Nature makes no apologies. And neither will you for how your man is claiming youâ
Laughing in the distance knocks you back to reality. Panic sinks venomous epinephrine into your veins and jolts your mind to a hyper-vigilant focus. People are catching up to you on the trail. You need to finish quickly. He must have heard it, too, for now he fucks you even harder, desperately, with the bestial intensity of a lurid madman. You try to keep your voice down, but the cascading pleasure mixed with the roughness and the risk and the sounds of your genitals slapping togetherâitâs all just too overwhelming.
He pounds you, hard, so hard against the log. You can tell heâs also trying to suppress his grunts, but he, too is growing louder. Youâre truly in it now, itâs now or never, the two of you in a frenzied dance of crazed, desperate hedonisms of the flesh. The voices are growing louder. Any second now, those strangers could turn the corner in the trail and see you both there fucking like wild animals in heat. Because thatâs exactly who you are, and thatâs exactly what youâre doing.
âBabe, weâre gonna get caught,â you groan, âJust cum in me already. Cum inside me, give it to me. I want it.â
That must have awoken something in him. He releases your hair, and your head whiplashes forward onto your arms. He grabs both hips with deadly strong grips and rails even harder. Youâve never let him do it before, but now you want that cum inside you. You deserve that cum. Youâve earned it. You want nothing more than to receive his load and be filled to the brim.
He explodes in you, finally releasing his virility in a protracted groan. The feeling of his manhood pulsing deep within your womb, filling you up with seed, making you complete as a woman, drives you over the cliff of pleasure into an ocean of ecstatic insanity. Electric fireworks of dopamine detonate in your skull. Your pussy convulses in orgasmic contractions, and you shudder over him as heâs inseminating you. Heâs given you his sperm, and you accept it, and you love the fact that heâs finally claimed you as his woman, now and forever.
Time seems to stand still for a moment as he holds you there, the full length of his shaft still inside you. Youâre fulfilling your role in its truest and purest and most innocent form, and thereâs a kind of joyful peace and reassurance about it. Even now, as youâre on the verge of being caught in the real world, amidst the risk and the panic and the fear of it all, you canât bring yourself to pull away from him just yet. You canât help but feeling like in this heat, youâve ascended to some ethereal plane of existence, fulfilling some spiritual and primordial rite, the union of male and female, a sacred, ancient bonding that reveals some truth of reality. You are a fertility goddess incarnate, a channel of the divine feminine, a force capable of creating new life.
But another burst of conversation from around the cornerâmuch closer this timeâshatters the bliss. He pulls out, and you scramble, pulling your sports bra back down over your tits and grabbing your shorts. His seed is overflowing out of you and dripping down your thighs, but you seal it back in with the shorts. He pulls his own up just as the people turn the corner, but heâs still hard, and itâs an obvious tent in the fabric. He wheels around and sits on the log next to you, hunching over to hide it, pretending to fiddle with his shoes.
Thick lingering pheromones of raw sex and body odor hang in the air like a cloud around your profusely sweating bodies. Youâre both still panting as the hikers approach you. Itâs a young couple. The woman is pregnant, and the man is pushing a stroller with a young child. A fun, casual stroll. You smile at them and exchange pleasantries and ogle at the baby, all the while knowing that just seconds earlier, the man sitting next to youâthat man you know you love now and want to spend the rest of your life withâpossibly just gave you one yourself. And youâre glowing at the thought of it.
The second theyâre out of sight, you reach down and touch yourself, feeling his seed still clinging to your pussy and seeping through the fabric of your crotch. Maybe that seed has planted itself within you. Maybe itâll grow and blossom into a beautiful new life. The thought of your belly and breasts swelling into the ultimate expression of femininity is immensely arousing. You look over to him, and thereâs a deep connection realized between the two of you without a word.
You both know what future lies ahead of you. You both know your destiny.
Itâs to give into nature and breed.
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