Wild Thing

There was no doubt in my mind. The plane was going down. The engine was smoking, the wings wobbled, we were angled downward, the earth zoomed closer per second. My entire life flashed in front of my eyes, the first time my father took me fishing, the frogs I tortured the summer before grade school, losing my virginity in high school, graduating college, joining the Peace Corps and getting on this fucking piece of shit commuter flight from Buenos Aires, Argentina to La Paz, Bolivia.

I didn't hear the screams, the cries of alarm, the rattling of the plane as it plunged. Just my heart, that's all I heard, which was kind of a simple acceptance that it was thumping its last beats before impact erased my existence. Game over.

I don't remember impact. I can't tell you if any others survived. I can't tell you how I didn't die. Did I bounce? Did I get miraculously tossed free somehow? I don't know. It's all a blank.

My first conscious impression was of walking alongside a group of short, brown, naked people with long black hair and lots of tattoos. It came out later that they had found me walking around the crash site looking for something. My luggage I suppose.

Within a few days I was fully aware of my circumstances. I was deep in the South American rain forest living in a primitive village with an indigenous tribe of natives. They'd rescued me. Later I learned that if they hadn't, a helicopter would have taken me back to civilization two days after the crash. As it was, I would spend the next six months living with the Guarani people in a very remote region of southern Bolivia, or was it northern Paraguay? I don't think even they know.

Sometime that week I became aware of her, the anomaly. Every other member of that village was under five five, had dark brown skin, brown/black hair and had their bodies scarred with dozens of simple tattoos. She had the tatts. But this one woman was not only fair skinned and about five seven or so - she was also blonde...ish. I didn't, of course, speak their language, and they didn't speak mine, so I couldn't ask how she was even possible.

The other thing? They all walked around pretty much naked all the time. And, like, I quickly learned to tune out their nudeness. Maybe a young native girl's brown breasts caught my eye here and there because all the other breasts pretty much pointed straight down. But the fair haired, light skinned girl was about nineteen or twenty, and since she was clad only in tattoos, my eyes locked onto her body like radar on bogies. Like magnet on steel. Like a desperately displaced white man on the only other caucasian within hundreds of miles. She was beautiful.

Full red lips, breasts as firm as melons, strong, supple thighs, perfect half moon butt cheeks, a flat stomach, a fair, blonde thatch of hair at her crotch, and a face that defied description. Think of a pretty young suburbanite raised by wolves kind of face. Wild eyes that flashed with cold fire, animal eyes. I doubt she'd ever even seen her face in a mirror kind of look.

She ignored me. She acted just like the other young women. And of course, daily survival was paramount for them. I watched her gut a snake and strip the skin away as quick and easy as her counterparts in LA could prep a chicken.

I, of course, was only after one thing - getting back to the world, the world of restaurants, beds, beer, books, computers, refrigerators, movies, friends, family, conversations that weren't just a series of grunts and hand signals.

But they treated me well, the Guarani. I was their honored guest. I'd survived that crash and to them I was a miracle man, good juju to keep around.

But the longer I was there, the more I began to obsess over the anomalous woman. I can't write her name because I could never really understand all the syllables. I called her Seriya.

My first real close encounter with Seriya was pretty embarrassing. Maybe two months had passed since the crash. I was out walking by the river, looking for a place to fish, the only food they ate that I really liked. I came around a bend and there she was, in a pool of the river, bathing.

She took my breath away, her bronze skin, sun bleached hair, proud, firm tits, wicked sloping thighs, smooth, well formed legs and that unkempt wild tuft of hair at her vagina. She was strong, healthy, confident and as untamed as the jungle around us.

I, of course, was walking around pretty much naked by then, too. And the sight of her coming out of the water set my penis to rising like a flag pole, like a rocket on a launching pad, like a tree projecting out over the river. Long, hard, red, pulsing and undeniable. No pants to tuck my phallus back into.

She saw me, looked down at my raging erection and those eyes soften just a bit, just a slight hint of humor flashed for a moment then the total wild woman look came back. She walked right by me without a grunt.

I could have fucked a tree right then. Later I saw her gathered around a group of young women and they were laughing very hard at something she said. They turned to look at me and I guess they saw something they never saw before - a blush. Black skin doesn't show a blush, but my whiteness turned a nice rosy shade of pink.

I had to wear my old ragged pants from then on. Biologically speaking I was, um...sexually overdue, vulnerable to unwanted tumescence, pathetically unlaid, as fucking horny as a pubescent teenager.

I slept in my own hut, having no family or friends to share with. One night a terrible storm came up and, in the middle of the night, many of their structures blew down. Mine being on the edge, by the forest, was better protected. I didn't know what had happened, it being so dark and noisy, but as I was huddling inside my bed of grass and leaves waiting out the windy, wet and cold night, somebody entered and sat down in a corner.

It was Seriya, and she was wet and shivering, and of course, naked. I got up, and not knowing what else to do, huddled down next to her and sort of hugged her to share some of my body heat.

You'd think I'd thrown a rope around her neck. She struggled out of my grip and pushed me away. I shrugged, went back and crawled into my warm bed. She shivered and tried to hug herself warm, but it was just too cold. Eventually she crawled over and pushed her soggy self in against me. But she made a point reaching back and slapping my penis, none too gently, as she spooned in back against me.

My beast was not so easily dissuaded, however. The very smell of her, this raw, wild, rain soaked woman, sent all my blood downward. I had to sort of hunch my hips back so as not to lodge this large, hard protrusion into the cleavage of her ass cheeks.

But she did warm up. Part of it might have been the hot breath I breathed on the back of her neck. Certainly my warm belly against her back, the skin to skin contact, warmed us both. And my arms wrapped around her torso, stroking her skin softly, probably helped. My legs tangling with hers. And, finally, as the night wore on, my fully tumescent cock, as hot as a fire brand, poking into the space where her legs met her ass. She may have wanted to cut it off, gut it and eat it for breakfast, but she couldn't deny it was a very warm piece of flesh.

And, as we got more comfortable, she sort of snuggled back into its warmth, without acknowledging the sex of it, if you can imagine that. Sort of like she was just accepting my pulsing, hot erection as a nice, convenient thigh warmer kind of thing.

So I started to kiss her very gently, on the sensitive parts of her neck, with an occasional tongue tip and teeth nip. I let my hands wander down to her ass, so full and firm and fleshy. She wiggled uncomfortably and made an annoyed kind of grunt. But I didn't stop. Surely she had to be feeling some of the same raging hormones I was.

You'd think. But no. After maybe a ten minutes of me kissing and groping her there, letting my rod slide up against her pubic hair for awhile she suddenly turned over, faced me and fixed her eyes on mine, full of fury and determination. She held my hands down and said something I immediately understood though I have no idea what it was.

Well, I was pissed then. I'm a man. She had just taken it too far. Well, we had. So I pushed back, lifting her up bodily and reversing our position, a move I'd learned in college wrestling. I ended up on top of her, my legs between hers, my hands holding down her arms, my tummy mashed up against hers. She looked up at me as though she could spit fire out of her eyes. I bent down to suck a nipple in my mouth and she bucked under me. But the nipple was hard. And her legs sort of involuntarily wrapped around mine.

It was like riding a wild horse. Seriya fought me the whole way. I kissed her neck, she bit mine. Not really hard, but it hurt. I let an arm go to slide my cock against her cunt and she slapped my face. Then she grabbed my hair and pulled my head down to her tit, forcing my mouth against her nipple. I recaptured the arm and hunched my hips into her, rubbing the length of my hardness along the slit of her cuntlips, encouraged by the copious fluid I could feel there. She wiggled under me, trying to get away, but only succeeding in increasing the body contact and friction that was getting us both very hot.

The storm continued to rage outside, and so did Seriya. She started cursing me in a low growling whisper, her voice so intimate and close I could feel her hot breath on my face. I began to sweat droplets onto her chest and cheeks, my own long hair draped over her.

I gave up her arms then and looped mine under her legs, holding her thighs against her torso, pinning her beneath me and positioning the tip of my cock against her young, wet, and gaped open vagina. I wondered for a moment if she was a virgin. Only for a moment, because I then slowly began pushing into her, injecting my large, demanding, throbbing phallus into her very wet, very warm, completely unobstructed cunt until we were locked together.

Her hands were on my ass, pulling me in, but she never stopped growling curses at me, and her eyes never left mine. And they never softened. She would be fucked but not tamed.

Even in that vulnerable, submissive position, Seriya was not subjugated. She managed to push her trapped hips up to meet my thrusts and her hands scratched over my ass and back. She was not going to be kissed but she did yank my head down to mash my mouth against her nipples. And she was wet, wet, wet, a continual flow of secretions leaked out her pussy, easing and lubricating the passage of my cock's intrusions deep inside her. I kept the pace slow and savored the power and pure strength of my position, fucking straight down into her cunt with relentless hammer strokes and enjoying the savage grunts they elicited from her.

When she began to pant and her eyes became sort of glazed over and her body seemed to finally release its resistance and give in to the sensations entirely, I picked up the pace, increasing the speed and force of my humping strokes until I was a virtual fucking piston plunging as fast as I could into her now sloshy cunt, both our bodies sheathed in sweat.

When she came that first time it was with a howl, a deep throated, gutteral animal cry of lust and rage and she pulled my ass against her while her body went through a series of minor body quakes. I growled back at her and injected cannon shots of hot semen into her trembling cunt, adding to the viscous flow of syrupy liquor oozing out around our conjoined genitals.

When finally I relaxed and released her legs and collapsed down on top of her, I may have started feeling apologetic for forcing myself on her like that, but it didn't last. Seriya began to squeeze my penis with her vaginal walls and her hips began to wriggle under me, lewd and unmistakably suggestive. She wanted more.

I started to hump against her, far too fucking hot and excited to get soft. This was not only my first sex in months, it was the wildest, hottest, craziest and sexiest sex I'd ever had. The woman was insatiable, a virtual she lion who's cunt wouldn't release my cock even if I'd wanted. I didn't.

She locked her legs around my hips as I very, very slowly slid my hardness into her soggy cunt one sloppy thrust at a time. She finally let me kiss her, though kissing seemed foreign to her. Lip to lip contact was not something her tribe did. But she was in full heat now and my mouth was just another way of fucking her. In fact, after she came a second time I disengaged and made my way down between her legs. At first she was confused, even annoyed, and tried to pull me back up, but when I began sucking on her clit and licking her slit while poking fingers inside her, she sort of went into a gentle frenzy, mouthing words at me softly to urge me on while twining her hands in my long hair to direct my tongue where she wanted it. That orgasm seemed to take her consciousness away, her body went stiff, she gushed liquid into my mouth and her entire body convulsed for what seemed like minutes. Then she passed out.

Now it was my turn to be insistent. Because her body was completely limp I easily turned her over, pushed her face into the grassy bed and lifted her ass up to my cock. I slid inside her now absolutely sodden pussy and, holding her legs together with mine, I fucked her prone, listless, pliant body with all the lust I'd built up over the past few months of watching that gorgeous, naked woman parade herself mindlessly around me. I fucked her for all the lust I'd ever had unrequited in my entire life. I fucked her for the gift of life I'd received by not dying in the crash. I fucked her for the joy of living wild and free those past few months. I fucked her for the pure fucking love and need of fucking. I fucked her because she wanted to be fucked. I fucked her because, though nearly unconscious, she reached her hands beneath her and stroked both our genitals while I plunged relentlessly into her. I fucked her untamed, unrestrained, uncivilized woman-ness until the top of my head flew off and cum explosions erupted into the stormy night around us.

Morning found us entwined around each other, and birds chirping in the trees. We had a lazy morning fuck, then got up. The villagers thought nothing of seeing us sitting together, enjoying a hot drink by the cook fire. Our nakedness in that warming morning seemed like it was all part of the love and lust we'd generated that night. Immersing ourselves in the river was like a baptism of life, the water was itself a cleaning, purifying form of the life energy that we had created and now flowed through us.

I lived with Seriya for the next three and half months. She wouldn't let me fuck her during menses and she wouldn't let me get her pregnant. The women of that tribe had ways of taking care of a woman in either condition. And though I fucked her in so many ways, at night, during the day, in the forest glens, the river, the high overlook point, first thing in the morning and in the middle of full moon nights, I never tamed her. She fucked like a wild woman,

But I was not accepted in the tribe as an equal. I was always the miracle man, the man who dropped from heaven, an outsider, though revered. And when rescue came after six months in the form of a scientific expedition, I went with them. They were the ones that told me Seriya was a product of rape, white cattle men preying on native women. I tried so hard to get Seriya to pack up and come with me, but she was having none of it.

It's been four months since my return. My family has been so supportive, so interested, and god help me, my girlfriend has tried everything she can to reconnect. But all these women seem so...tame...so...docile...so civilized. Clothes feel like soft chains around my body. I can't sleep on moonlit nights. During a recent storm I was up all night, my body shivering in our well heated apartment.

Everybody thinks it's PTSD. They recommend therapists, pharmaceuticals, take a vacation to some resort somewhere, give myself time to heal. But I know. I know she's down there, in the forest, in the river, naked, free, wild, beautiful, untamed, unbroken.

And I'm going back.