It was her idea. We had been out all night, drinking in a local pub. I had only met her recently, and we were still largely strangers. Our night of drinking started to remedy that. The pitchers came and went while we talked about our beliefs and experiences. She was quick, kind, and a little shy, but all of this was wrapped up in a certain boldness I found unique. Our comfort grew, and the distance between us shrank. But too soon the hours passed and it was time to walk her home. She suggested we cut through the nearby ravine, which featured parks and nature trails. I of course agreed, and we slowly descended into its depths, before coming to the path that would bring her home.
We walk up the trail, away from the safety of the pavement and city lights. After a few minutes, the woods surround us, where one could hardly tell we are in the middle of a major city. Slowly, she becomes frightened in our isolation, her body trembling with each careful step.
The moving shadows of the trees leave a darkness that her imagination eagerly fills in. Threats of all kinds surround her, pumping adrenaline through her veins. Her heightened senses strain to find which of her nightmares have become real above the rush of a nearby stream. Her breathing becomes shallow and rapid to accommodate her rapidly beating heart. Every sound that breaks through is instantly extrapolated as a signal for some horror in her mind, be it the warm breeze or the crunch of the path beneath us. She pulls closer to me, her only certainty in a world of frightening potential.
I try to reassure her with cold hard logic. I had never been interested in horror films, and my mind knew only to see what was there: a dark forest after a hard rain. The ensuing conversation does little to calm her, but she insists we continue. I realize that she could take my calculated perspective, but chooses not to. Her one desire this night is excitement at any cost. This sweet, intelligent woman had a dark and crude side, and it craved for a kindred soul to reveal it. I intend to deliver.
We press on the path, our strides cooling the nervous sweat from her body. She places her trust in my calm hands and calm mind, knowing I can deliver her to safety but secretly hoping I take advantage. I suggest we go down to the river, explaining it would tranquil at this time of night, but my goal is to avoid prying eyes and to mask the noise of our inevitable cries of pleasure.
As we walk down, I wait patiently for the right moment before rapidly spinning, trapping her in the vice of my arms and pushing her against a nearby tree. Her focus instantly shifts from the surrounding possibilities to the reality I impose on her. The strength built in anticipation of her demise is unleashed upon me. Her muscles, long held tense in anticipation, eagerly break their stillness and pull our bodies closer together as the potential of the night materializes before us. Her mouth, previously silent for fear of those trying to locate us, presses desperately against mine. For a moment, we are motionless, an exhibit on the tension and passion in the still. When we again start to move, we do so only to pull our partner deeper within ourselves. Our hands start to explore each others bodies in rough grabs, never giving up their force.
Our kiss continues to last while I struggle to choose between the pleasure we are feeling and the desire to join my hands in manipulating her body. Eventually I relent, and the brief look of disappointment that crosses her face is quickly replaced with a coy grin as I kiss her neck and my hands roam further. Her eyes close so she can focus on all the sensations assaulting her. Her neck snaps back as her body tenses, pushing her chest against me. I become bolder, following the contours of her body, lost in the images of my desire. I swing her again, flipping her around and driving her amazing ass against me. My hands place themselves strategically, one snaking its way up her shirt to her ample breasts, and the other sneaking its way down to tease her. She pushes back against me, arching her back to kiss me over her shoulder as I remove our tops. For the first time, our full skin touches undulled by our now discarded clothes. She wishes I'd come in front of her again, to resume our initial posture, but I am not ready to relinquish my control yet. I release her, and focus my attention onto her back, lightly stroking, and kissing my way up and down. Though she is free to move, she stays in the same tense posture as before, held in place by her mind rather than my body. One final slow lick from the base of her spine breaks her composure, her shudder echoes through the trees around us.
I flip her back into my arms, and we finally look into each others eyes while basking in the heat from our bodies. Looking deeply I see a singular focus on the moment at hand, the moment we are sharing with each other. She notices my hesitation and takes the opportunity to reciprocate the attention she received earlier. Her lips and hands make their way over my chest, following one after the other along the hard lines of my body. My hands find themselves in her thick hair, helping direct her attention to where it is needed, while slowly pushing her downwards. She resists my cue, taking her sweet time with the body she has longed for. Her hands continue to move, grasping whatever piece of hard muscle they come across.
