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| In the cool, dark night, he walks alone. His hiking boots crunch on broken twigs--remnants from the previous night's violent storm. Then, he had huddled in a stone cave, sleeping amongst friends--his pack. Now, he is restless and in search of amusement and rebellion against his self-imposed hibernation. In the distance he sees scattered lights of yellow and red. Like lights on a Christmas tree, they promise the dreams of warmth and friends and family and of the everyday existence that he can no longer fully take part in. This is a new night in a new town, in the cradle of suburbia. He descends from uncharted lands toward the life of the young and hopeful and to the wish of finding comfort in wake of dampness. Sounds of laughter, music and clanking bottles emanate from a wooden and brick building at the edge of town. It is the epicenter of liveliness and a magnet for the socially deprived. He hesitates in approaching, his keen senses awakened by strains of a long ago scents--vanilla and lilacs, and something more primal. The rusty-hair-colored man turns off the main road, his nose inhaling the sweet smells and leading him to a dewy wet stretch of grass. The night presents him with a female silhouette form on a park bench, the source of what draws him there. In an instant she tenses, yet he does not cease in his approach. Wordlessly, he moves closer and finds her eyes. She is a beautiful creature, one of sheer femininity that masks the pure beast beneath her skin. Their eyes lock as their creatures recognize each other. She too, has strayed from the pack. She sits on the bench and he kneels in front of her. Blue gaze upon blue gaze, her dark hair is wild beneath the intermittent breeze. A silk black dress clings to the curves of her sumptuous body and enhance her lovely wickedness. He places his warm hands on her tight thighs and spreads her legs wide. She does not protest, and moves them aside gracefully as he gently pushes. They begin a dance of form and movement, his hands sliding beneath the edges of her black gown and running the fabric up to expose her pale loveliness. His fingers lightly tickle the gateway of flesh that leads to her secret desire. He teases and relishes it all at the same time before moving his face to bury itself between her legs. She reaches with both hands for the ends of his long, red hair, directing his head in rhythm to the music-less dance they perform. His free hands travel up the length of her torso until they discover mounds of soft flesh. He cups her breasts and traces her small nipples, his hunger below still unsatisfied. He quenches for more. She howls in delight. The beast within him speaks out in unison with her growls, he arches his head back and lets his true nature pour out into every vein of his body. He remains human, but his strength intensifies, his senses grow even keener. Light is not just yellow and red, but copper and crimson with soft edges of purple. He feasts upon her flesh as a lover would devour its mate. Her own juices flow freely, and he savors the taste of her being. His head travels up her body, pale lips brush against the soft black fabric that entraps her. Her flavor is so strong, he can taste her through the gown, but it is not enough. He yearns to feel flesh on flesh. An intense mutual stare communicates this need, and as he grips the midsection of her garment and tears at it savagely, her own long, red fingernails scratch through the cotton of his green T-shirt. Pockets of soft skin greet the night's air and allow the animalistic lovers' bodies to mold to one another more intimately. His lips graze her tight stomach, her slender torso, her supple breasts. A long tongue emanates from his wet mouth and circles their round shape in a rapid motion, lapping up the hot sweat their warm, heart-pounding bodies produce. She opens her legs wider and spreads her graceful arms out to allow his upward traveling body to find its way comfortably on top of hers. She exposes more of her skin, discarding remnants of her dress and his shirt, as she pulls him even closer onto her, but not into her. There is so much to taste and feel. Every fingertip creates a tingling, electric sensation that makes each of her nerve endings pulse in delight. His motions contrast from rapid intensity to lightly soft touches of pleasure. He sniffs her neck, inhaling perfume and licking it in turn. He moans low, but deeply. The beast inside feels satisfied, yet still hungry. His mouth drinks her in, sucking at her tongue as he breathes heavily. He moves like a man; he moves like a beast. He is ready to enter her. He begins to pounce like the wolf, trapping her lean body beneath his well-built frame, but she grabs hold of his arms tightly, nails digging into them and forcing his body over. He loses balance and falls down onto the wet grass, his naked body glistening under the light of his constant guiding companion. She lurches her body on top of his, pinning him to the earth. He fights to gain control, and soon she is on her back, but their rapid motions cause them to spin. They clasp each other tightly. Limbs entwine and faces nestle into soft, wet spots as their bodies roll back and forth on the grass. Each human-beast, male and female, fights for the upper hand-- to be in control of the encounter. They move tirelessly, until the raven beauty has him pinned back on the ground. He lets her overtake him, willing her to surprise him with desire. She holds his arms over his head and yields her body down onto his. She can feel his hardness and longs to wrap herself around it, but her need to play with him first overcomes her. He smells of musk and spice and sweat. She aims for a bite of his flesh and lowers her mouth to his chest. Her tongue darts out and travels down the valley between his breasts. She licks furiously up and town his torso, nibbling and pinching small bits of flesh teasingly. �More!� he beckons quietly. She is far from finished, as her body moves lower down on his. Her slender hands move from above his head, through his overgrown hair and caressingly on his face. As her fingertips reach his mouth, his lips and tongue reach out for one, clamping it tightly in his mouth, he bites and sucks on it. After a few moments, the digit breaks free from his wet orifice and continues down the length of his hard body, tracing it with his own wetness. Her hands come to rest above her head, above his torso. She commences her ultimate feast. He reaches down to tangle his hands in her long, loose hair. Pulling firmly at it, he plays his part, encouraging her head and mouth to take more of him in. Passion rises up within him, her movements grow faster, more furious. He is on the brink when she finally moves on top and plunges him inside of her. She begins a wild, mad dance on top of his body. The first thing she notices is his girth. For a short man, he more than makes up for it in other ways. Her slender legs are open wide to take all of him inside. Her knees plunge into the ground so deeply, she knows that she will find traces of mud in her skin the next day. He eases the bulk of her motions, gripping her torso to steady her and to allow himself more access to her depths. Her body leans far back; arms flail with the madness and pleasure of him. Her head is near the ground, and suddenly without losing the passion of their connection, he lunges on top of her again. His hot body and wet skin rubs up on her as he thrusts in rhythm above her. His chest is generally smooth, but there are thick, tufts of hair that roughly tickle her just below her swollen breasts. The hair of the wolf. She absorbs the feeling of it. Pleasure swirls within her body. She is on the edge and feels him at that place with her, but he is in control of his animal. Quick like the wild man he is, he grabs her tight body and flips it over. She is slightly on her knees and he plunges into her from behind. She moans excitedly. His hands grapple her hanging breast, fingers lightly rub the dangling nipples and enhancing her sensations. She feels his breath against the nape of her neck as he fulfills himself within her. This encounter is never-ending. Moments upon moments of insatiable desire are continually met with responses of instant gratification. Their inner natures complement one another and react to one another instinctly--knowing what to do at every turn. She never knew it could be like this, but it's not just the wolf that satisfies her. She knows it is more than that. It is this man and it will never again be like this with another. This being--this gift from the heavens--pleases the woman inside and his beast mates with her beast shamelessly. Heavy breathing continues to grow as they reach an eruption of mutual ecstasy. Exhausted but reborn, she lies down on the dewy grass; his body falls beside and aligns with hers as they both relish the afterglow. "Oz," she sighs breathlessly. He lightly kisses her temple. "Shh, don't say another word--just feel it." She knows what he means. There are some things you don't need to talk about. He showed her this deliciously this night. What words are necessary when you can express so much with your bodies? |
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| WILD NIGHT |
| by Mazzy |
| NC-17 warning |