The Hunt

I sit alone, still among the swarm of bodies.
My lungs pull in air on a shaky breath, waiting.
You move among them, dark and sleek,
stealth in gait, precision in gaze, you hunt.

You find my scent and move in for the thrill.
I am caught, brought to stillness by your eyes.
My thighs part, making a nest.
Your hands claim their prey, milky thighs gripping your hips.

Quaking, I beg with my stare, needing the thrust.
You take my hands, lock them at my back, breasts high.
Freeing your cock, you bite a tip, soothing with your lips.
I surge forward, whimpering as you slide home.

Let them watch, this unstoppable mating.
Your thrusts are primal, hot and hard.
My cries are non-human, beyond my control.
Our final moans make them needy, their juices flowing.

You carry me out, past the hands and mouths.
I feel the air, the noises touch me as we pass.
I want to fuck the night, so wet and ready.
You whisper words painted with lust, circling for the kill again.