My breath catches quietly when I first glimpse you through the trees. The dappled sunlight shines through the forest canopy, casting patches of golden light across the forest floor as well as your body. Your long hair is pulled back and tied with a small piece of leather; its golden locks seem like sunlight to me as I crouch lower, taking care not to be noticed. For a moment it is all I can do to stare as you hum softly and pick the ripe berries, depositing them neatly into the basket you carry under your arm. Your back is turned to me, hiding the breasts I have admired so often. From underneath the loincloth around your waist I catch brief glimpses of your backside; the same glimpses that have teased me for weeks.
As I watch, I feel my pulse begin to quicken and the familiar feeling in my groin begins to urge me forward. I step from my hiding place and watch you turn to face me, enjoying the stunned look of surprise that passes across your face, replaced quickly by a look of subdued panic as you see the rock hard manhood that stands out between my legs. Your eyes dart past my shoulder down the path back to the village. In those eyes I see your thoughts: I'm too far away to scream; he's too strong to fight.
The moments seem to pass into eternity as my gaze travels from your eyes across your long neck where the beating of your heart pulsates. Then to your chest, where your breasts rise and fall with your quickening breath. Down to the one part of you I crave more then any other. My eyes linger there as my imagination sees what the dark leather hides from me. In that moment, nothing exists to me but you. The forest blurs away to the edge of my vision and you fill my every thought.
When our eyes meet again, my gaze bores into you with the primal lust that drives me to you. The intensity of my gaze, the heavy breathes, the predatory stance: you know I have come to mate.
Casting aside your basket, you turn and dart away from me. I can only admire your trim legs carrying you quickly into brush as I let out an animal yell and bolt after you.
I fight my instinct to simply chase you down and take you. Instead, I let you run, taking care to always stay just out of sight behind you. I know you can hear me, my footsteps tearing through the brush reaching your ears over the increasing heavy breaths you are taking. Suddenly your loincloth gets caught on a thorny branch, nearly tripping you. You yelp as you try to break free, frantically pulling at the branch while casting furtive glances to see where I am. I yell again and you jump, giving up on saving your garment and letting it strip away from you as you start to run again.
