- Erotic Art
- The Nymph's Desire
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It was spring, and my flower was blooming, the nectar running thick between my thighs, dripping from my ovule to satiate the grass. I heard them coming for me. They'd found my tracks; what was I to do? Well, I could scurry up the tree, or flee into the woods, or even make myself nearly invisible against the texture of the bark. Or, I could just lie there in my fishnet stockings, helpless as could be.
They came for me, laughing and snarling, their eyes full of hunger. I tried to make myself small against the hovel, but soon I was spread out atop one man, his thick branch plunging into my slit as the other took his position from behind and pierced me in the wrong hole, filling my nethers to the fullest, stretching me open, rubbing against his comrade inside of me. Oh, had I ever felt such pleasure? They were rough and cruel, and I growled with them, just another wild beast of the forest, just another flower receiving her pollen.
The Nymph's Desire
I heard the hunters long before I saw them. I smelled them even sooner. Musk and sweat, days without bathing, hunger, desperation and longing wafting from their loins. I took it into my nostrils, and wilted against the tree with sigh of pure need.
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