Jane Porter's Tale

She never really meant to sleep with the apeman but his cock was so impressive and he had taken her as if, having saved her from the crocodile, it was his right to take her as his own. She had found it all rather thrilling, if truth be told, to be treated as chattel by a man so raw and unformed as he was; so animalistic in his desires, where want equated to have and needs were sated as and when they presented themselves.

After all, she considered as she lay in his bower with his ape-pack guarding her, he was no more than an animal really. He had rudimentary language and writing, such as a young child might have but beyond that, and beyond his physical perfection, he was an ape playing at being human. The rules and norms of civilised society could not be applied to him in any circumstances.

She shivered with the excitement of her predicament: he had been gentle at first when taking her virginity but her pussy had known the onslaught was coming and had been so wet, in anticipation of the event, that his passage through her hymen had been relatively painless. It had been her lust (she blushed in shame at the thought) that had driven him on, had encouraged him to pound his cock into her repeatedly until he had emptied himself deep inside her.

She herself had fainted afterwards, having reached the peaks of delight on numerous occasions throughout the ordeal and now, thinking back on it, she found her hand rubbing gently at her mons like a wanton hussy. She lay there, uninterested in her present dilemma, waiting for him to return, wanting him to take her once again before she had to rejoin her father and the rest of their party, so recently abandoned on the shores of German Kamerun.

She supposed she would have to tell her fiancé, Robert Canler, would have to offer him the opportunity to withdraw his proposal, but she was sure he would not even though she could not bear the thought, now, of marrying a lesser man than this Tarzan apeman. She knew that Robert saw her as his ticket into polite society and would forgive almost anything to achieve that, his most cherished ambition.

She hoped the apeman fucked and fucked her with his huge member until he put a baby in her belly; that they would be marooned here until after that baby was born and all society would shun her, her baby and any man whom she might thereafter associate with. Only that might be enough to dissuade Robert from marrying her.

She could not imagine any man she knew having a cock such as that she had recently experienced. She was certain that neither Robert, nor her father's friend, William Clayton were gifted in that particular way. When they had seen her in her shift, the morning after being forcibly put ashore, they had been moved to attempt to hide their appreciation of her charms but she had seen the tell-tale bulges and, though they made quite an impression at the time, they were no match for the apeman's monster! She remembered how she had described it:

"It was not without a certain delight" she had written in her diary "that I watched the reactions of William and Robert as I stepped out to join them for breakfast on that first morning. They were clearly experiencing much discomfit in the trouser department to such an extent that I prevailed upon them not to move as I would serve them their repast.

In doing so I came within such proximity that I might notice a clear distinction between the sizes of the two; a distinction that, to my dismay, required me to stifle my amusement at Mr. Canler's expense; his is like to a boy's when compared to Mr. Clayton's which too seems not large, if my maid Esmerelda is to be believed, and I have resolved, once we are married, to refer to him as Bobbie; more fitting than the name Robert, with all of its masculine connotations!"

She would, she decided, inform her father and allow herself to be guided by his advice. He was no prude and, as she had been given no choice, he would not judge her harshly.

Even as she considered this she knew that when Tarzan returned she would be the instigator of another bout of fucking and fucking was the only way she could think of it as no definition of lovemaking would include the instinctive ferocity of their couplings.

This time, when he returned, she would do something she had read about in one of her father's secret novels. She would suck his cock! Her limbs trembled at the sinfulness of the idea but her cunny became increasingly wet under her busy fingers as she waited impatiently for her godlike apeman.

It may have been half an hour before he returned, by which time Jane had brought herself off a number of times. He seemed literally to drop out of the sky onto the bower where she lay, his cock swinging crazily above her breasts, his boyish grin full of mischief. He was, she decided, not much older than she, perhaps even younger but her eyes were drawn again to his cock, to his wondrous cock and, to his obvious delight, she shyly reached out to grasp it.

His confusion was evident when she pulled it towards her face rather than between her legs (Obviously, she thought, apes do not fuck for pleasure in the same way we humans do) but any worries he might have had were replaced by a moan of pure pleasure as her tongue passed over the head of his cock and her lips engulfed his girth.

His natural urges took over then and he began to fuck her mouth with abandon as she struggled, with both hands, to contain the length of manhood entering her mouth. It was so big and wet and hard and soft all at the same time that she lost herself to the task of accommodating as much of him as she possibly could. Now it was not enough as foreplay, now she wished to make him cum, to feel it in her mouth and in her throat. To have him soak her face and her hair with it and afterwards, to make him hard again, to bend over and have him take her as the rutting stag does a doe and as the hound takes a bitch!

She would stink of his cum, she decided, when she returned to camp. There would be no need to say anything, they would know from the smell of her that she was his, that whenever he wished he could call her and she would go to him.

Bobbie Canler might marry her but he would always be a cuckold where Tarzan was concerned. She knew this apeman was besotted with her; he would follow her to the ends of the earth. She would persuade him to by giving herself to him at every opportunity and by finding new ways to allow him to enjoy her and her, him!

Bobbie would have to make do with his leavings. Perhaps she would kiss him with her mouth full of the taste of her lover; perhaps she might force him to more intimate kisses full of the fruits of their earlier couplings!

The thoughts were erotic and compelling and raised her excitement to such fever pitch as would not be denied any longer. She withdrew his dart from her mouth and gesturing forcefully bent over, arched her back and opened herself wide to his assault. How eagerly he lodged his shaft in her sopping cunny. The noise made her laugh, a noise that quickly turned to a moan of pleasure as he buried himself to the hilt inside her.

He bit and scratched at her neck and back as he thrust, the way a wild dog might, but this was nothing as to her own behaviour. Her hand reached to grasp his buttock and drag him ever deeper into her, she would not release him. She could happily live the sum total of her years with that cock buried forever within her. It completed her. She would never let it go. This apeman's seed would sire strong sons and daughters and she would happily remain in thrall to it for the rest of her life.