Fleeing The Tracker

I suppose there's just something about the way it happened that makes it not seem as bad as it was supposed to be. Maybe that makes me a hypocrite, or maybe it just makes me stupid, but that's the way I see it now.

It's been three weeks since he finally found me in the woods, and still I remember the smells and the way the dark danced with the moonlight filtering through the trees. The heady scent of fucking in the air, and the horribly strong musk of someone I hadn't met and will probably never know completely. But the urges have passed ... I guess that means what it's supposed to mean. Whether or not that's a good thing remains to be seen.

It all started about a month ago, I guess. I'm alone now. There are parts of me that despise this, and there are parts of me that relish every facet of a lonely existence. I hunt by myself, I cook for myself (or sometimes, I still eat them raw), and I have to deal with the passing seasons by myself.

I thought I'd kept myself away from every possible male contact I could possibly come up against, but I was wrong. I knew when he began tracking me. I could see his shadow just at the edge of the woods; smelling my scent, pissing on the trunk of a tree to remember where I was. I had the urge to mate, but I did not have the inclination to do so. But they always come, they always seem to catch the scent of me even on the slightest breeze. So I did the only thing I thought plausible at the time: I fled deeper into the woods and away from my home.

But he tracked me. And now that his game was up, he knew that I knew he was following me, and I guess he felt no reason to hide it anymore. I could hear him in the dark every night, closer and closer to where I camped. I started to prepare myself ... I fashioned weapons out of anything I could find. Even in some part of me, though, I knew he was much stronger than I. What could I do even if I could defend myself properly? Even then, the responses of my own body would betray me, and I knew it.

The night he caught up with me, I certainly wasn't expecting it. I was cooking recently captured prey over the open fire, and simply became prey of another sort in my ignorance.

He burst into the clearing, and before I knew it he had me toppled over the log I'd been sitting on, the sharpened point of a spear at the base of my throat. After the momentary shock, I struggled to free myself from his grip, to no avail. I finally ceased my movements, peering up to my follower for the first time with an indignant snarl.

"Shhhhh," he simply snarled back, one finger pressed to his lips.

"Get the fuck off of me, you incredulous cur!" I snarled again, snapping at his face with my teeth, and got a slap on my nose for my trouble.

He didn't reply other than that, but snagged both of my wrists in his hands and pressed them firmly into the ground. I was even unable to move my legs, as his own knees were pressed into mine. Certain I wouldn't wiggle out of his grip, he sniffed delicately down my neck, his nose pressing once between my breasts, and then rocked his body back slightly as he rudely stuck his nose almost entirely up my pussy.

I couldn't help the gasp that escaped me, partially from the intrusion, and partially from the sudden heat I felt flowing to my loins. I snarled again after the gasp, but it didn't have the same effect. He lifted his head, eyes narrowed. "I know you're ready. I can smell you from a mile away. And yet you struggle..."

"Yes! Yes I struggle, you mindless fuck! Maheo, what is it going to take for you to get the fucking point? A lightening bolt up your ass?!" I bucked my hips under him, throwing him off balance for the split second I needed for an attempt at escape. I thought I'd made it far enough in my sudden crawl, until I felt his vice-like grip again on my ankle. I whirled around, slashing at his face with my nails. I drew a little blood, but paid for the action. A moment later, my own face was shoved into the dirt, his hand on the back of my neck, his legs pinning my own to the ground.

I supposed he'd stopped trying to figure out -why- I was struggling, and was now focusing more on the task for which he'd come. I felt his teeth sink into my ear, and let out a helpless yelp as he tore a bit of the top completely off. "This," he hissed in my now throbbing ear, "can either be difficult or easy. And whether it is difficult or easy it up to you, bitch. Choose."

I murmured a bit in the dirt, struggling one last time to try and get away. But I knew it was no use, at the moment anyway. "Whatever. Do whatever. I don't care."

I felt him grunt above my back. He still pressed my head into the ground, still held me steadfastly in place, but leaned back a bit. I suddenly felt his hand running over the skin in between my thighs, dangerously close to my pussy lips, though never touching it. A shaking moan grumbled from my throat, and he chuckled above me, pleased.

"You don't care, eh?" He was mocking me, mocking my automatic responses, and the only thing I could do was lie there and growl slightly. His fingers dipped slowly closer to my pussy, which was already quite wet with the juices of presex. Adding insult to injury, he bit, hard, at both of my ass cheeks, then nibbling the flesh delicately.

"I don't care," I snarled, but it was hardly convincing. My eyes had already fluttered shut, my breathing had increased, and I was so wet I could feel it coating the soft flesh in the cleft between my legs. And nothing stopped the loud gasp of pleasure as his wandering fingers finally plunged all the way to the last knuckle into my cunt. I cursed and flung my body back to impale my pussy on his probing finger as far as it would go.

Another chuckle, and he shifted behind me. He kept me fairly secure, but I couldn't have moved away from him then anyway. I wanted him to fuck me. It was as if that was the only thought consuming my consciousness. I felt the tip of his cock press and slightly spread my pussy lips, gently guided by his free hand. "Seems to me you care plenty." And before I could protest fully, his free hand reached around to snatch my hips, jerking my body back and slipping his cock deep inside my dripping pussy.

He didn't move.

He didn't move for a long time. I could feel his cock jerking a bit inside of me, throbbing with the throbbing of my entire body. I could hear him breathing above me, harsh and irregular. Then, suddenly, the hand that had been pressing my head into the dirt released me, and snagged the curve of my other hip.

There was a split second when I thought of escape. A brief moment of realizing that I could get away, and probably he would give up his attempt. But then, much overpowering that, there was the need to fuck. I felt if he did not fuck me then, then I would probably explode.

Roughly, he began to slam his cock into my pussy. His hands gripped my hips tightly, pulling my body back against him every time he thrusted forward, pushing his growing cock further and further into me. My own hands curled into the soft forest floor, my face constantly being raked back and forth with his quick thrusts, and I could feel the aroused nipples of my breasts brushing the ground the more I bowed my back.

I was totally slick, and as he moved in and out of me, the slurping, wet sounds of our fucking echoed throughout the trees. My eyes were half-closed, and I was even as turned on by his panting and grunting as I was from the feeling of his cock sawing in and out of my cunt. I could feel the hardness of his cock stretch my pussy as he sped up his thrusting. I started to rock my body back even as he pulled on my hips, needing to feel him cum inside me.

I jerked my head up slightly and let out a yelp. Never before have I felt so full, so utterly stuffed with cock. He thrusted for a few minutes longer, his cock sliding in and out of my wet cunt. I could feel when he got close to spurting his cum, and that drove me over the edge. I clenched two large handfuls of dirt and my breath caught in my throat, just as I could feel him jerking inside me, filling me up with streams of his hot cum.

He jerked against me mechanically for a few moments, and I knew that we would be there for a little while, waiting for the ebb of our climax to subside. Neither of us said a word during this time, and I doubt that we would have been able to even if we had wanted to. I know that I, at least, was far beyond words ... that strong urge to fuck had been satiated.

In the end, he simply left me there, dripping our mingled cum out of my pussy, my ass end still presented in midair. I never even saw him go, and perhaps it's for the best.

That was three weeks ago.

And I would be lying if I said I didn't long for his shadow to dance at the edge of my clearing again. I would be lying if I said I didn't still have the urge to be properly fucked by the strange man who tracked me down that night. But perhaps I was only meant for that. Perhaps he was looking for just a fuck with me, and wanted a much prettier woman to chose for his mate. I suppose I can be satisfied with that, if it's all I'll get.

I'm not hard to please, you see. Not at all. When you only expect the worse, it makes it ever so much better when you get more than that.