I wrote this as a journal entry to K a few years ago, the first time I took her to the cabin.
I turn to my left as my hand comes around to wrap around your delicate neck and pin you to the bed. My mouth comes crashing down on yours, our lips binding together as one. My tongue penetrates into your mouth, lusting to feel your teeth, your tongue, your essence. I want to feed on your lust, to penetrate and suck it out like the black flies clustered in swarms outside.
As my body comes to rest on yours, the tip of my cock rubs against your moist flesh, causing both of us to groan in anticipation. Our lips part, and my mouth hungers to taste your flesh. I bite playfully at the side of your neck and trail my teeth down your collarbone.
My hand, quickly followed by my mouth find your breasts and my fingers tease and twerk your nipples as my mouth lands soft bites on the sensitive skin. As my hips rock gently back and forth, grinding my erection against your pussy, we groan in mutual anticipation.
My bites trail down your stomach and I nibble on your inner thighs before inhaling deeply the scent between your legs. My tongue flicks out and I give your labia a long slow lick. I feel you shudder in response - or maybe that was anticipation?
I continue with another long slow lick and feel your lips part. My tongue gradually finds its way to your clit and I greet it with the tip of my tongue.
“Just fucking take me,” you breathe.
I grin, knowing you can feel that against you skin. In seconds, I am on my knees, with your ankles wrapped around my neck. With one hand on each of your thighs, I pull you towards me in a rush, my erect flesh piercing your moist hole to the hilt. Both of us rear our heads back in the sudden rush of ecstasy.
I lean my upper body over you, one hand on the top of each shoulder, my gray eyes staring down into your blue as I begin to thrust. Each thrust more powerful than the last, in and out, in and out, until if it were not for my hands on your shoulders holding you in place, I'd fuck you right off the bed.
I inhale deeply, smelling the leather of your boots mingling with the scent of our feral rutting. Our eyes meet once more and I see an exquisite balance between erotic bliss and the discomfort of your position etched within. That look is too much for me to control and with a loud grunt I flood you with my cum, feeling it run down my balls as I continue to thrust in and out.
The feeling of my orgasms tilts you over edge and we share a moment of mutual bliss.
I retract slowly and slowly thrust back in, watching your reactions as you ride the last of your orgasm. I relax my grip on your legs so they can slide around my waist as I continue thrusting in a slow and gentle manner. After a few additional moments of bliss, I retract completely and slide down beside you, sniffing your scent as I move.
The only sound resounding through the cabin is the crackle and snap of the fire as it burns away in the stove. The reddish glow from the fire reflects in your eyes as you study me. I give you a feral grin as I slide out of the bed.
I light the hurricane lamp on the table, finding it with practiced ease in the dim glow from the fire. I pick up one of the chairs and move it over by the bed. I grab my pillow from the bed and toss it onto the floor in front of the chair as I once more move back to the table and grab the pot of stew. I plunk down in the chair.
I inhale deeply, smelling the strong odor of garlic and moose. I look over at you, lounging in bed.
"Get over here," I say as I point to the pillow on the floor at my feet.
Your eyes wide, you reply, "But I will freeze!"
I stiffen. "Get over here," I growl.
You slide out of bed and kneel on your knees before me on the pillow, those blue eyes lit with curiosity and fear. I reach behind you and pull the bearskin off the bed and gently wrap it around you and my legs, creating a small pocket of heat.
I eat in silence for a few minutes, watching you as I eat. The stew is delicious, with just the right amount of spices. I chew slowly, savoring the tasty meal.
Wordlessly, I offer you a spoonful of stew. You open your mouth in acceptance. In silence, I feed you several more, one spoonful at a time.
Finally, I set the pot on the floor beside the chair. The index finger of my right hand traces up your neck before resting under you chin, pulling your face up to look at mine. My left hand traces patterns through your short hair.
My right hand grasps my still semi erect cock around the base and lowers it to brush on your lips.
"Lick it clean," I command.
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