The musky scent of primal urges and infrequently washed bodies filled the makeshift shelter and seeped out into the cool Paleolithic early morning air. The air inside the shelter was moist and hot, and the previous night had been a marathon of love-making. The clanswoman had used muscles she did not even know existed previously as she mounted her bed-partner's gigantic cock for the third time that night. His desire was insatiable.
The clansman held her hips firmly and guided her sopping pussy onto his pulsating prick. Her red-raw labia quivered as he filled her...entirely. She moaned in pure blissful agony and her brown body shuddered.
He maneuvered her onto her front, his full weight bearing down on her slight form. She leaned back and caressed his tight arm muscles, gasping as each thrust pushed her firmly into the ground. They were both dripping from the endless sex.
His gasps became grunts became a low rumble became a rising howl before he began pounding, clutching at her soft behind making her scream as she came against his rock-hard throbbing member. He pulled out of her and squatted on his heels, shooting a long stream of tiny diamonds onto her expectant face.
She grinned with the afterburn of pleasure and with the self-knowledge that life was infinite and all was one. Why hunt for food when you could fuck until you were delirious? Why find better shelter when you could swallow penis every day of your life. The quest for pleasure was far more important than future survival or the conservation of energy.
The clansman rolled onto his back and exhaled his satisfaction to the sky above. He could see the first rays of the sun. Soon, he would want to break his fast upon something more filling than pussy. He rolled onto his side and fixed his steely gaze upon his bed-partner.
His grin was luscious and reflected itself in her caramel-coloured face. She reached across to touch his flat stomach. He extended his long arm and stroked the length of her body; long toes to curved hips to pot-bellied stomach to full breasts to a slender coffee neck to moist lips to rest upon a high protruding forehead. He hummed to himself most satisfied and she licked his fingers. He grunted and got to his feet, cracking his back in the process.
The clansman peered out of the furs covering the makeshift shelter and watched a new day begin. They were nomadic people and would need to find a new place to sleep tonight. Not because they wanted to but because they had to fill an inherent need. He wondered if they would make love under the stars upon a bed of moss and wake covered in dew. Or maybe they would fuck each other entwined in a hammock high up within the branches of a tree.
He picked up his spear and left without a sound. The shelter was on top of a hill to give the clansman a view of any potential predators, human or animal alike. He descended towards a small copse of trees that eventually joined a dark forest. Before long, he was running through dense bush.
He was completely naked and his manhood swung from side to side with each long stride. He felt free and light, as if he was at peace with his surroundings. Suddenly, he felt his stomach rumble; an indication that he should find some food to replenish his lost energy. Preferably that of the four-legged kind.
He remembered that one week when he had to resort to berries and fungi foraged from the forest floor. Groundnuts and tiny unripe apples. Riverfrogs and dirty pondfish full of worms. Acorns and mungberries. He longed for the succulent flesh of a small piglet.
Once, he managed to get hold of a scrawny little squirrel but its meat did not last long into the week. That was a week of rain and cold weather. They had stayed in their shelter for the better part of two days for fear of catching a chill, surviving on dried squirrel meat and small berries. At least they had water.
But once the rain cleared and the land began to dry, creatures began to return. The two clanspeople whooped and hooped in unison, crying to the skies above in ululating voices that held no tune. Their prayers had been answered. They would have food.
That night she fucked him sitting in his lap as he leant against the roots of a large tree. He came inside her underneath the stars, staring deep into her chestnut eyes. The clansmen had not cried out and roared as was his typical sexual performance but had whimpered and held her as she controlled his orgasm, fucking his cock until he was well and truly finished. She stared him down and that night she had become his queen and he her king.
The growl came from above. The clansman's reflexes were too quick. He thrust his spear upwards as the panther came down. It yelped as blade pierced flesh. The big cat was a heavy creature and the clansmen's spear snapped under its weight. The clansmen lowered it to the ground stroking its wheezing face as its lifeblood pumped out of the fatal wound, its wet pink tongue lolling through its meat-stained fangs.
The clansmen bent his head to smell its midnight fur. The panther's scent was strong and smelled of the trees around him. The meat was not ideal to the taste but the pelt would insulate their shelter. He began skinning the animal with the blade end of the broken spear. He was methodical in his task and soon lost himself in his work.
When he finished, he noticed that he had a hard-on. He chuckled to himself and touched the end of his pointed prick. It shuddered. Taking another's life-force always turned him on. He would return soon and have his bed-partner up against a rock and would spill his seed into the open air as an offering to the land for keeping him alive another day.
As he slung the still-dripping panther pelt across his broad shoulders, he saw a flash of colour through the trees. Blues and reds danced in the cool late-morning air on the other side of a cluster of small trees. He placed the panther-pelt on top of a moss-covered boulder and paced forward curiously.
He heard water and soft chanting in a high reed-like voice that caressed his ears, travelling the length of his body and stroking the height of his erect penis. He fixed eyes upon his prize. A dark-skinned tribeswoman was washing by a small brook close to a tall skinny tree with blue- and red-dyed furs and pelts hanging to dry from the branches. She was completely unaware of his presence amongst the trees. The clansmen watched her hungrily.
The dark woman bent over, dipping her head under the water and washing her dirty scraggly locks. Her entire body was exposed to the world. And to the clansman. Her tribal scars were a beautiful circular design covering her back down to her large voluptuous thighs. As she scrubbed her hair, her tight asshole quivered.
The clansman was ready to burst. He crouched low to the ground as he stalked his prey. Her obsidian hips were shapely and plentiful. Her tiny shoulders were a stark contrast to her large bottom half but that fascinated the clansman further. He enjoyed the shape of her body.
He heard a twig snap. He gasped as he saw the dark shadow suddenly cover his body. The swinging club just missed his head by a few centimetres. He rolled to the left and was quickly on his feet in a defensive stance. His opponent's skin was dark as the night sky, yellow eyes burning with hate.
He dropped his club, roared and was on the clansman in an instant. The clansman fell back, buffeted by the bulk of this dark creature. His strength was incredible as he forced him down into the loamy moist soil. The clansman's cock bulged as he struggled underneath the dark body of his attacker. He heard the high-pitched wails of the tribeswoman.
The unknown assailant's hands scrabbled at his throat, trying to find a strong grip. The dark-skinned man may have been stronger but he was not as dexterous as the clansman who quickly managed to squirm away. He rolled to his right and picked up his spearhead, rising swiftly to his feet. They both circled each other warily.
His trunk was pure muscle, rippling from his abdomen up to his hairless chest which protruded from his body like two sharp mountain peaks. Shoulders and trapezius muscles formed from a hard life of climbing trees for food and shelter gave the dark-skinned tribesman an extra height to his imposing figure.
His dark dick stood proudly to attention, reaching his belly-button. The tribeswoman was still screaming. The dark-skinned man, evidently her bed-partner, clicked and made a strange guttural noise to her. The clansman took advantage of that instant and pounced upon the tribesman. But he did not move an inch. The tribesman's body was as hard as a cliff face. His cock even harder.
