Forest Dar in Stillmoon Par

Ah, good day to you, reader, so good of you to come. You're in for a special treat today, I'm changing my format. It has been pointed out to me that it's probably not your wish to be my lover in my stories, so I'll create a new dream lover with each story. And if you choose to step into her shoes, that'll just be our little secret, okay? (Wink) I'm looking forward to the new textures this will allow me to feel and explore as I write. May it fuel my ever-present sensual passion.

That said, tonight I want to take another pass at a previous story I wrote, 'Wolf Calls'. I had greatly pulled my punches as I wrote that, taming it much more than I had wanted to in order to continue to hold your approval. I'm not going to go back and re-read it first, I'll just write this fresh for you and see where it goes. So are you ready for my new writing experiemnt? I promise to make it wild and passionate. A little edge-of-your-seat excitement if you catch my drift. (Wink) I'm not sure just where to begin, so I'm just going to jump in with both feet and let the story write itself again. I'm not sure where this story will go exactly, but if it rubs you the wrong way then I apologize, this story is unique in my collection, so none of the others will affect you the same way as this story will.

The skies above are darkening, the wind sends its pitched tones through the trees, through the leaves. There is the slight chill of encroaching autumn. Tinges of pink have begun to trace the horizon glimpsed through the forest. The leaves above, still a moist green this time of year, flap back and forth as they are blown by the occasional gusts. Moisture gathers in the sky as it drinks its fill. Anything is possible tonight.

I stand beneath an ancient oak, a hand pressed to the soft, deep moss on its trunk. I'm breathing deeply of the forest smells. Pungent moist soil. Fertile moss. Humid, late summer air. A breeze also brings me the tangy scent of pine though I see them not. Soon enough, the Sun will fade until my visibility shrinks to the size of the clearing I stand at the edge of. The oak I touch seems to have pushed back all the trees beside it as it grew. This is my place, this clearing, this tree, well off the path the villagers tread. I take stock, extending my senses as I close my eyes, feeling the forest breathe as I revel within the unfathomable nature of Nature. A gasp. From me? No, to the west. I feel it now. I feel her. She walks along the path, feet unsteady as she hurries to her destination before light fades.

Darkness brings danger here, even within my forest. The villagers call this Stillmoon Park even though there is nothing tamed or cultured about this natural expanse. It is named Stillmoon for its reflecting pools of clear water, which is strange for standing pools to be crystal clear. Stranger still, the villagers legends that to gaze within the pools on nights when the Moon shows full will reveal a glimpse of future truth to them. Who am I to disprove their belief?

The unsteady footfalls come closer together as well as nearer to where I stand listening. There is urgency in their sound, the glimmer of haste in their flavour. Closer. Closer. I fade into the invisibility the trees offer up to me. I become shadow.

Her steps wander little yet branches snap and pop as her path takes her further from the common forest tracks. It...tastes...like she's coming this way. I can only hope. Still no scent yet, the gusts travel in wierding paths through this part of the forest. That is why I have never been tracked here. This wood protects me as I have watched over it. Symbiotic comfort.

A puff of air fills my nostrils. Yes, she is of moderate age, leaning towards the younger. Scent of a light perfume, perhaps only soap as the texture is crisp. Closer. The next scented wisp is pulled into my mouth so as to taste her. At one hundred yards I taste her sweat, a tinge of fear, the urgency clearer now. Her intent unknown, yet she is welcome here, I taste no malice. Closer.

The dark above has deepened the hues to umber and azure, Moon fading into position by inches. I tread softly around the tree, a shadow soft and still. Ivory white canines flash an instant in my smile, she has come to me, I see her fully now. Piercing hazel eyes that scan the brush for signs of my location, hair now slung loose from the long trek. I see her lips curling upwards to a satisfied grin. Softened material holds her in ways pleasing to the male eye, silently offering up her ample breasts to be caressed, adored. Hips full and soft, almost designed for the gripping. Her village clothes complete with engraved dagger strapped over her chest. I gave mention of the forest's danger.

I step from my cloak of shadows. A sharp sound accompanied with the clamour of steel across the boulder by my thigh. As I speak, my voice comes out a rumble, to my ears I perceive a heavy Russian accent, perhaps my name is Boris. "Your senses ever-keening, Tatjana, it is good to see you again, too."

The leather of my boot catches the metal edge, flipping it back through the air until Tatjana snatches it into her grasp by the hilt. Her smile comes playfully, lips visibly becoming fuller as her arousal heightens. Her own voice heavily accented tonight, "sorry I am late, Lover, the millhands proved to be all hands. My work harder as result."

Her English improves with my own, we have learned to speak it aloud when we get together. So far I have grasped it more quickly, but her progress makes me just as proud of her. My concept of time is flexible, she told me evening and the setting Sun still marks that time. There is no fault to be placed.

Tatjana takes the last few steps to greet me. Her light brown hair softens in the evening air, wisping to and fro, taking on the color of the night as light fades. She looks even more beautiful in this lighting as the Moon marches on above two lovers in a clearing so familiar. In the next instant her lips feel every bit as inviting as they looked. I dissovle into her mouth, pressing harder against her lips and enchanting a moan from her breast. My thick moustache tickles across her face, hairs full yet smooth and soft, not poking her delicate skin. Her tongue unfolds into my mouth and I taste her fully, delighting in my lover.

Minutes pass as our tongues twist and writhe together. The slippery sensations exciting us more and more as our breathing grows deeper. She tastes so very good, her love for me lending an added flavour to her mouth. She has commented on tasting my love before, too, she is unlike the villagers with whom she works. Tongues amking love and speaking their love through every moment of our kiss. Bliss floods me.

Tatjana pulls me down to the cushioning grass, our hands working at denuding each other. Her fingers flutter away my clothing, piece by piece, and her eyes devour me with their lustful exhuberance. I take my time with her though, fingers weaving through the leather tie-straps of her push-up bustier to release the corset-like constraint she must be feeling about her torso from its tightness. A rush of breath from her proves the truth of my thoughts as the knot comes free. My lips come to hers to steal the gasp into my mouth, then, "I love you, flour grinder."

Her smile rides blushing cheeks now as she pulls my lower lips back into her mouth for a light chewing. Tatjana loves it when I remind her that I acknowledge her as a hard worker as well as a good lover. I tie her freed leather cord around my left wrist over and under as a gesture to her of my devotion. Another smile as her gaze follows my fingers. I bring my fingers to her large bosom, teasing a large finger down between them into her cleaveage. I truly love her cleaveage and the feel of her heaving breasts encasing my finger. A full sigh escapes into the almost-night air. I kiss each tempting mound as I busy myself at removing her jerkin all the way. A flick of the wrist. It rests upon the boulder now. Kissing more and more of my treasure, hot flesh cascading over my tongue again and again. Some licks wet and slick, some dry and rasping, always tender and loving. Tatjana coos as a dove from my attentions. The sounds coming from her fueling my desire to be inside this lovely creature, my lover.

The smooth leather scabbard of her blade runs down between her succulent tits now, the cured leather strap clinging to the lightly sweaty orbs, not wanting to let go. She glistens beneath me, so very inviting. To look at her is to feel her. To look at her is to know her. To know her is to be with her. And I am more fully with her than any she has known before me, I see her soul where she has hidden it away from others. She is mine. I am hers. We simply...are.

The ties at her skirt are sturdy cotton, yielding to my fingers almost as easily as her nether lips will to me moments from now. I loosen then take hold of the dark brown fabric. Pulling. Pulling. Shaking the dust and flour from it twice before sending it the way of her jerkin. "Will you take off your dagger tonight?"

"Am-not sure if-is wise, Lover... Forest. Moon. Danger."

I smile openly again and tell Tatjana, "It's just me here with you. You could barely be safer at home by the fire."

Shoulders relax, her smile returns, and the dagger flies underhand to her piled clothes. That just wasn't the sort of prick we needed between us I feel. Her eyes look up at me, suddenly innocent with her nude body exposed once more. She looks deep into my chocolate brown eyes, following down across my auburn-brown moustache to my soft smile, my throat, the dark hairs across my chest, the fine 'treasure trail' hairs leading down to my groin, lingering a moment, traversing my hairy thighs in their firmness, right down to my feet. Her look is always one of appreciation and wonder. I return the favour, running the length of her body the other way.

Her feet resting in the grass between my ankles, feet well-rubbed during our meetings. Her pale skin running up legs built strong and sturdy to thighs as thick as pine boughs but infinitely more exquisite. Downy, soft brown fuzz covering her rosy cleft, the lips of which seem to pure and beg kisses of their own, to give and to take. Her mound rises well, plump in its own way and perfect as a durect result of that. Her hips are spread wide and lure a sweet caress from my strong hands. Her belly is nicely shaped, curved as was meant, a delight all its own to touch. My lover's breasts hang down naturally, more than a handful even to hands as large as mine, so perfectly textured when grasped...or when lovingly rubbing my appreciative cock between them. Nipples of a hard to place colour, somewhere between pink and burnt almond, but with fine ridges that my tongue has memorized, leading to sensitive nipples that get so achingly hard as to conjure the same reaction from myself. Her arms strong from heavy lifting of both grain sacks and millstone handle alike, yet possessing such lovingly soft hands that know every inch of my body from past intimacies. Shoulders freckled in ways that make my mouth water to lick. Her oft-kissed throat like butter yet smooth as silk to my tender lips. Ah, her lips that inspire me to heights of ecstacy when they come into contact with me. Tatjana's hair splayed out beneath her left shoulder, curling up at the tips but straight, kept reasonably short to avoid mill accidents, but long enough when free like this to tickle the hairs of my chest and shoulders in times most enjoyable. Broad forehead announcing her 'black Russian' heritage as all those from southern Russia are called, her brow also hinting an ancestry closer to Scandinavian in its roundness. Tajana's nose suggests the same things of her ancestry but belying a beauty all its own. And her eyes, words fail, her eyes enrapture me with the shortest of glances bringing bliss and contentment. She is my lover. She is here to be loved.

Tatjana moves her lithe foot up and down my shin in an attempt to trigger my pouncing instinct. I tower above her a moment longer before giving in to her willingly. My body crumples down on the grass to her left side as I begin to kiss her velvety lips once again. Breath coming in pants, we entwine our bodies around each other as we make love with our mouths and touches. Tatjana is such a wonderful lover, knowing what I wish before I need ask. Her body is as sensitive and responsive as I could ever ask for, soaking up my every contact with her. Together we are lusty in the throes and lovingly gentle during every other moment. This night, however, inspires the lust in me to run wild with her.

"Now! Have you...nowwww. Deep. Ah! Har-hard! Da, Lover... Daaaa!"

Tatjana's Russian breaks through in the moments of passion, the contrast of languages snatching my attention in exotic ways. I buck my hips against her thigh in response and then pull her up and over me. The pine-scented wind rattles the acorns of the oak above us and the image of that sticks in my mind for an instant before she impales herself on my throbbing hardness. She sinks down several inches at once in one long, wet slide. Her arousal is apparent by the hot juice that flows down across my hairy balls to cool in the night's chill. I gasp at the mixture of sensations of her cooling juices and her delectable heat enveloping me. A single push like that, Tatjana's womanhood has never been hungry enough to take so much of me in all at once.

I fill my hands with hard nipples and hot breasts as I grip her firmly. Russian spews from her in a stream of 'love vulgarities' that causes my erection to throb larger within her almost as if her words were an eldritch spell. I gasp, jerking my hips up to bury myself harder into her, my arched back lifting her entire body right off of the dewy grass. More love vulgarities, this time from my own throat, a rough translation being: "I'm swallowed! Cunt! Love! Take everything! Bright One Who Makes the Stars To Shine For Me! Love! Take! Take! Yes! Love! Clutching! Adoration! Love. Overtaken. Enough." It loses much in the translation to English.

Tatjana crashes down ont my chest, her mighty tits tumbling into my mouth where they are immediately sucked in one at a time. A full ripple runs up my shaft as her spasming womanhood grasps me in waves. More juice floods from her as does an excited scream. I pick up the faint sounds of faraway birds launching themselves from branch and home alike. The sound of my Tatjana expressing such overwhelming delight nearly conjures my spurting molten seed within her. Almost.

I bring my hands down to cup the heavy cheeks of her bottom as I roughly fill my hands and grind hard against her pelvis, mashing her swollen clit into my pubic hair which elicits another deep, keening shout of delight. She is delightfully responsive. An inner dam breaks and ignites a new level of passion. I begin to thrust my hips up with unstoppable force, rocking hard into her strong, fleshy thighs and lifting her off the ground with each pleasurable impact. She clutches harder at my chest, fingers sunk into my shoulders as she loses her tempered control and grabs hold for dear life. I take the pain and focus my sensitivity to the other places we are joined. Above me, Tatjana's eyes are squeezed shut tight enough to wring slight tears from her unspeakably-beautiful eyes. I taste her tears as I kiss them away and continue to thrust upwards on the path to consumation. Again and again she claws at my shoulders and upper chest, I feel each mark she lays open but disregard it as I bring out in her climax upon climax in a woven string and hasten my own eruption. So close.

The force exherted between us increases as I loop both of my forearms across her lower back just above her well-carved buttocks. Now Tatjana is not in jeopardy of flying off and is still receiving every inch that she longs for. I feel myself contacting her cervix deep inside with every pounding pump. Her hands clutch behind my head now and her mouth has become anchored to my trickling shoulder as she muffles cry after cry against my burning flesh. A flicker of perception brings me an image of my forest from the scents left in her soft hair. Then the image is gone with my lustful wave flicking off a moment later. We stop as Tatjana collapses exhausted.

For long minutes she just lies atop me, breathing shallow breaths that gradually deepen back to normal. Her heart races against my chest and I feel both our hearts slowing again. My hand slithers in her hair now, soothing her back to coherence. Softly spoken love vulgarities pass her lips and towards the end of the stream congeal into our oft-practised English. "Love me... Too strong. Hold. Minute less. So good. Too good. Are good to me always, Lover mine."

For a minute I think she's fainted away but I feel her stirring down below where I am still ensconced within her. The night has become complete, the Moon showing itself to be full where it peeks between the collected clouds. Countless stars blanket the sky and I stare into them while I listen to my Tatjana's sweet breaths and feel her tremors. At long last she gasps once more and poises her weight onto her elbows to loom over my face with her loving eyes and sated smile. Her smile melts into a deep kiss as she presses down tenderly upon my lips. I welcome the sensations of her kiss and her full weight as the sweat evaporates from our bodies. Murmurs and whispers.

She seems to notice my shoulder now in the dark, I'm sure the even darker smears of blood must still be visible. Yet it no longer hurts. In fact the wounds have already vanished. Tatjana plucks a handfull of grass and wipes the remnants of life fluid from my skin, amazed that her soft fingers find only smooth flesh and not the furrows she had clawed into me in her desperation. This is indeed a magical night in my forest, Stillmoon Park at its best. I grin up at her face where it block the moonlight, admiring her delicate features as I've done countless times. Another soft kiss upon softer lips. Another. Another. I hunger for her again.

I roll Tatjana over onto her back beneath me without ever having come unsheathed from within her. Where I had remained firm, I now regain my full size and twitching hardness. Her eyes glaze momentarily as she feels me coming to life deep inside her syrupy tunnel. A slow rhythm begins as I pump my cock into her all the way but so slowly that each full thrust comes out and goes back in deep. Each delicious thrust of constant movement taking nearly a minute. Tatjana digs her fingers into the moist soil as I move so slowly that she wants to scream from the teasing sensations that overwhelm her to her soul. I smile as I feel her taking control with hips that hump up against my groin and hands that reach around my clenching buttocks to pull me deeper inside her at a faster pace. She licks her lips and I must taste her tongue once more. Our mouths part again and I continue thrusting at the pace she sets. A distant cry in the night marks the change. It begins.

The bunching of my muscles in my arms as they creak and thicken. The wet popping sound of my chest expanding several inches. Fingers do claws become. Legs gaining breadth and power. My throbbing erection remains unchanged and never does my pumping alter rhythm. Tatjana's eyes upon my changing face grow wider in terror even as the coarse hair sprout and all across my body to tickle at her pale skin beneath me. She desperately reaches for her steel blade on the boulder. But far, too far. Would my lover kill me in this instant? Truly? No harm will ever come to her from me. Despite appearances.

Now her fists ball up and rain blows across my heavy, werewolf chest. I pause a moment and cock my head to the side to look down at her pinned beneath me. Her horror transmuting in the instant she looks into my lupine eyes the first time, for they too are unchanged on the deepest level. Tatjana's panic melts second by second as recognition enters her gaze, then silent questioning. I lean down and lick across her sweating cheek just once, this time having the senses to fully taste her for the first time. She tastes good. Not "eating-good" but the truth of her heart comes to me as a perceived flavour, unique and unmistakable. She shivers coldly in mild disgust. I imagine licking her face was a bit much. Again my shaggy head dips down and laves, leaving a trail across stone-hard nipples. This time a moan escapes her. The question in her eyes further melts to a degree of acceptance.