Erotica: An Animal in Her Element by Beth G

“Portrait Of Amur Tigers” by photomyheart Courtesy of http://www.freedigitalphotos.net

“Portrait Of Amur Tigers” by photomyheart
Courtesy of http://www.freedigitalphotos.net

The wind drove sleet against the large picture window only a foot or two from my head, rattling sporadically. Thirty yards away in the darkness I could just see the white lines of ice (snow, perhaps?) that etching the branches, creating a subtle negative image of day. It was comforting and calming to be inside the warm bedroom, safe and lazy. I settled against the back of my big chair and draped my legs over its wide, cushioned arms.  “As strong as his.” My hand slipped past the satiny resistance of my pyjamas and began stroking the vibrator slowly between my thighs. I was already wet and it slid softly back and forth over the now swelling flesh. I closed my eyes and let my head fall back against the chair, drifting into depths of feeling.

I had almost given myself over to the floating sweetness when, for some reason, I opened my eyes. You were standing in front of me, fresh from the shower, a towel tucked around your waist. Our eyes met and we both knew, though we spoke no words.

I leaned forward and pulled the towel down. You were not hard yet, and I sucked your cock straight into my mouth, all the way to your groin, backed off, and sucked it in again. The taste of the soap subsided as my saliva washed you. I pulled back, swallowed and started again. You were rampant within moments, and I opened my mouth wide, relaxed my muscles, and pulled your erection deep into my throat. I felt your hips flex and your fingers in my hair. I stopped moving and allowed you to pump slowly in and out of my mouth, deep and slow, pausing only to let me breathe then once again commencing the slow, delicious rhythm. I began floating again, an animal in my element, fish in river, bird in air.

As you moved you became tiger in forest, stalking, readying for the chase. Your pace quickened, your thrusts strengthened, you pushed your cock into my throat as deep as possible and held it, withdrew, and pressed again after my gasp. I became prey to your game, a cherished toy, a beloved toy, but a toy. With each thrust your balls swung against my chin, reminding of your prowess. Your hands locked in my hair, pulling, clenching as your frenzy rose, my gasps becoming deeper. Spikelets of drool leaked from the corners of my mouth and dripped on my pyjama leg.

I tasted your first fluids and as the saltiness strengthened, I breathlessly began to anticipate my reward. But you stopped and withdrew. I was panting, breathing in huge gulps, when you lifted and turned me, almost flinging me face forward against the back of the chair. You gripped my sex, squeezing it, my juice soaking in to the pajamas under the pressure of your hand. I grasped the back of the chair and closed my eyes, not completely knowing the mind of my tiger, but knowing you are a tiger who would have what you wanted, how you wanted. I resigned to your will, relaxing and waiting. I did not wait long.

In one motion your strong arms lifted my hips and placed me on my knees. Oh my god. You pulled my pyjama pants down, barely enough to expose my glistening, hairless pussy. Your fingers probed past my clitoris into my wet, fragrant darkness, stretching, probing, rubbing the walls, forcing me to begin grinding my hips against your hand. Forcing the low noises that began deep in my womb close to where your fingers rubbed, then climbed upward through my viscera to my throat, where they reluctantly growled from my mouth into audible reality. Uhnnnnmm. Again and again. I was a prey animal, lost and knowing so, but still resisting. My growls turned to whimpers as your fingers spread against the walls and found the places we both know, stroking them over and over, nursing the tangy fluids from me.

You took me then, just as you have so many times when you knew I needed you to fuck me. No preamble, no love-making, no introductory rubbing of your cock between my lips. You withdrew your hand and took me hard and deep, your beloved stony cock rammed into my pussy, not stopping until it met my womb, deep in my being. My little whimpers became uncontrollable yelps that erupted from my throat each time you withdrew then plunged again into me.

With each thrust I felt my breasts swing, felt my hard nipples rubbing soft pyjama silk. I felt the swollen head of your cock batter my cervix. I felt your hands pull and jerk my hips toward your groin as it slapped against my ass. I felt my always copious wetness squish around you and flow out and past my mound to dribble downward in rivulets over my thighs.

But mostly, I felt my inner prey transforming into a tigress. The arousal of my female avatar began deep down inside me. Ripples coalesced into waves then into a liquid cat that leaped up though me, past my womb, through my breasts and on to my brain. I sensed sunlight streaming through the forest canopy dappling her, as she retreated back, circled my womb, then pounced upward again more strongly. My yelps merged and I released a long keening scream as my body clenched around you, holding you, pumping you, refusing to let you withdraw.

You, my wise tiger, my lord of the forest, knew that I I had you as surely as you had me. You moaned heavily as you realised you could not deny me what I needed. Your hips jerked, stopped and tensed as you tried to pull from my hot, wet grasp. But you could not. You pressed again as you erupted your soul against my womb, your gift washing over it and past it, to those places in me that doctors can never find. You relaxed then hammered into me again, sending another fountain flowing into those crevices and hollows that only I know, and that sometimes simply must be filled. Another, and another, until you had no more to give me. You collapsed over my back and rested your head on my shoulder. You kissed the nape of my neck. Your hands moved up my stomach to my breasts, softly cupping them, lightly soothing my inflamed nipples.

We stayed there, you inside me, filling me, holding me, without words, floating. Fishes in river. Birds in air.

Tigers in forest.

Posted in Cliterati Magazine, Erotica, Straight Erotica and tagged as , , ,

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