Falling Rain

Luckily, the problem solved itself when Lina opened the door to the hut and beamed at him. She was also completely nude, patches of sweat and rainwater pooling at her feet. Gregor almost dropped the fish. This was nice. Very nice, the right and good thing to come home to, no matter the situation.

Dark skin and burgundy hair in thick dreads, heavy on her scalp. Broad features and red eyes burning into him and he did not know what to say. He simply held up as many fish as he could and hoped that would convey, they whole of the events as they transpired. She flashed her teeth and took some of the fish from his hands and Gregor got to see her walk away.

Swaying, slowly padding along, watching the push and pull of her legs work their way up her body. Beautiful, simply beautiful, something perfect made in the world, movement, easy movement, and action condensed into a single body, full of hard things melding into soft things that bounced and jiggled just the right amount. Gregor did not care that he was still outside, still in the pouring rain with the chill still suffusing his body because he got to see Lina's back and ass.

She knew he was watching. She had to know, had to know that he could not look away. The way she moved, the soft shimmy and sway of her hips, the slight exaggeration to the bend and stretch, making her muscles accentuate his favorite parts. A simple look back and he realized he still had the large fish still encircling his fist. That needed to be inside and cut up and simmering in something soon. The rain kept it fresh, but that was always a running clock.

He finally found the nerve to walk after her and lay his catch on the table. The fish didn't matter anymore. There was Lina. Dark skin, scars, and red hair in thick dreads, bouncing and swaying with each of her movements. Every part of her moved at the slightest suggestion of such an action. Across her side, just above her hip was the one she got from an encounter with a tiger, on her shoulder was one when she tried to fight a shark. And his favorite was the one in the small of her back. A tiny thing, really, that she said was from a gunshot, but he knew better. He was there when it happened. She fell out of a tree and landed on a root. But Lina does not fall out of trees, so it had to be a gunshot. Never mind that she actually does have one of those on her right thigh, a short journey away from her kneecap.

She moved with the wood of their shared house, the deep shadows blurring her figure. Lightning flashes gave him a somewhat clearer image of her body. Still obscured, still hidden, but he knew what she was, where all the lines and curves and folds and ridges hid in the darkness. She was focused on the food, the thought of food, the fish laid out on their table.

He missed her. Gregor missed Lina. Just the weight of her soul in the vicinity was a presence he missed, and it was only two days and a handful of hours away. He sniffed. Cold, he was cold and chilly and tracking water everywhere and the large fish was still on his hand. He set it on the table, limp and lifeless and with no small amount of pride, he found that his catch didn't quite fit. Lina still had his back to him, delighted and entertaining fantasies of how best to prepare the banquet. They had vegetables, gifts mostly, and that could go into a pot and simmer for a soup. A couple hours down the line and there would be something hot to put in his stomach for the chill and it would all go away.

Gregor stalked towards Lina, light footed as he could be, testing each step for a wayward creak. The rain and the thunder masked his presence as he crept closer and closer. Her back, rippling and shifting and bulging with her shoulders rolling down off her neck, he could feel the ridges and lines of her back, the soft bumps of her scars in his mind. She did not notice his approach. He was sure of it.

Lina whipped around and planted her mouth on his, pressing herself deep into him, trying to find each little piece of themselves that would fit together. Home, he was home and she tasted of smoke and flame that chased away the chill as he breathed her in deep. She smelled good, of hard wood and embers and sparks and forest fires taking over his body. Angry blood, she had angry blood and Lina made his blood angry. Not even home for more than a few minutes and he was well on his way to getting hard. It was a good home.

"You taste like river," Lina said. And that was it. All he needed to hear, the low purr of her voice welcoming him back. She could have said anything really, but by the time any response was in his mind, she was gone.

Lina ripped him naked, any pesky cloth between the two of the gone. And she was on her knees, staring directly at him and she was ravenous, eager for his pound of flesh. For a brief moment, she just looked, just stared at him and his pulsing veins and slowly hardening.

And then she dove in, running her lips along the underside, kissing, and nibbling and sucking at him until she reached his base and let the weight settle on her face. He eclipsed her, covering her chin to forehead, blotting out one of her eyes and she grinned, wild and hungry as she kissed and suckled at his sack, savoring the taste. He lurched at the jolt going up his spine. Sensitive, two days without attention and he was so sensitive to everything she did. The wildcat below him with only a few soft touches reduced him to something wobbly like a newborn foal in less than a few minutes.

He fell, smacking into the rough timbers in the floor. The walls rattled from his weight and still Lina was on him, nestling into him, breathing his scent in deep.

"You smell like river," she said. But she didn't mind. Or she liked it. Gregor did not know, and he really didn't care all that much. Lina opened her mouth and started at the tip.

---

Gregor was back and he brought fish. Just the mere sight of him sent a thrill to her core and it was almost more than Lina could manage to not jump him right then and there and roll in the rain with him all over her. But he had fish and fish needed to be taken inside and Gregor needed to be inside and out of the cold, working on warming his body and getting some meal ready for the night.

He even thought he was sneaking up on her, trying some coy game where he surprised her like none of this was her idea, like she hadn't spent the past hour thinking of him and pantomiming her actions on herself. It was adorable. And the way he just fell as soon as she touched him made something dark in her womb twitch. She caught him unawares and now she was on top. If she managed to keep that position, that was a matter for the future and really, there was no bad outcome.

River water and river stone and rainfall and just a hint of sweat and salt still on his skin. Gregor tasted good, so good and so filling and so hot, filling her face and suffusing her skin with what little heat he had. She gave hers willingly, kissing and nestling closer trying to warm him up.

Just as she was getting to the good part, finally taking his shaft in her mouth, finally giving her something filling and heavy and strong to her, he fell and shook the house. She was on him before the pain could register. This was hers and she would take it, and nothing could ever stop her.

In a way it was a good thing. She could lay and stretch atop him as she sucked and kissed and licked him. The tip, flared and red and hard, working towards the spitting discharge of his seed. Veins and ridges and bulges, that little bend upward that always hit nice spots inside of her, all good and warm and the way it twitched over her tongue and in her lips and against her cheeks. She purred around the length, humming and swirling trying to get more of the taste, more of the scent in her head and washing out the pattering of the rain.

Still, he was big. So big and hard and wide, stretching her mouth around him. The length and the width always gave her a difficult time. He shouldn't be that big. She wanted all of him in her and he wouldn't allow that. Him and his stupid beast of a member, swollen and brutal and throbbing and salacious. Drooling, she was drooling over him and she could only fit the tip, tongue, and lips and just a hint of teeth drawing him in into her and accepting his body.

Pale as fresh snow and clean sand, even after all the time he spent in the sun, dark lines of ink tracing mesmerizing patterns across his skin. Large pockets of muscle constantly jostling and shifting together. The soft down of his hair covering everything, absolutely everything. All of that was here before her, in her mouth and in her hands and trapped beneath her form. Fondling, groping, touching, feeling, every little twist of his body under her sense. The tasted and the scent and the tactile retaliation of her actions against him.

She slid deeper, just an inch, getting more and more of her mouth around him, tracing the outline with her tongue. Lina felt a twitch against the roof of her mouth and grinned. Her win, his loss, but really, nobody lost at this fun little game they played. But she still won. Her actions caused him to lose control of his body and his hips started to thrust against her throat, helping her get deeper and deeper and yet deeper still. Gregor tried to go further than that, but Lina's mouth had an end and she had hands and shoulders pressing him down so he couldn't fully dictate the pace.

Lina had to go slow. She didn't want to. Gregor didn't want her to. But she had to. She had to let her body get adjusted to the size of the intruder, let the flesh and the walls of her mouth slowly expand to accommodate him. He was discharging preseed now, eager to show his mate the virility stored within. Lina swallowed, putting the salt warmth in her belly. So warm, even after all the time in the rain. He was so warm now, all because of her. He was warm and back and safe and there was food on the table. Everything was right. He twitched again, hips bucking trying to find some avenue to greater depth than he currently had. Lina let him, drawing in a deep breath through her nose. He twitched at the soft rush of air.

Then he froze as Lina finally hilted herself down to the base, the impossible length trying to burst through her throat. A moment later, they were both working together to get Gregor closer and closer to the inevitable end. He pulsed and twitched in her mouth, and his breath hissed through clenched teeth. She could feel the groan in his belly, the soft noise of relaxed euphoria bottled up and stifled for some asinine attempt at composure. Let go, he should let go of it all, let her take control and take him somewhere safe and warm and joyful.

He bucked into her and hit the back of her throat and the cascade of twitches and pulls and spasm crashed into her. Lina grinned and applied just a bit more pressure from her teeth and that sent him over edge. She finally got the groan, the tectonic, earthquake rumble from his core as he came in her. Shot after shot of warmth filling stomach, filling her throat, filling her mouth. She took it all, as fast as it came, and did not let up. Still, she licked and sucked and nibbled and lapped him down, even as he emptied himself in her. Lina was full and warm, and he still came down her throat, still pulsing and groaning, all for her. Seed spilled into her, viscous and potent and intoxicating, blanking her own mind and setting the heat in her core over the edge. Not quite the white-hot explosion she had from her hands, but gentle waves of energy from her stomach, relaxing her muscles and giving her peace.

He came and came and came. Two days without attention and he created an ocean inside of Lina. Two short days away from home and this was the true gift he brought back and still Lina swallowed and sucked and lapped. So much, so much all for her because she was the only one that could take this amount. It took work to get him in, but he was there, and he was coming and coming and coming.

The deluge stopped. It had to stop. The reservoir was massive, but not infinite. And Lina had it all, pulling herself off to breathe in fresh air tinged with rainwater. She grinned with pride leaking from the corners of her mouth. One final swallow and Gregor was defeated, lying on the rough wooden floor, panting, and heaving deep breathes carrying the weight of the world.

"Soup now," said Lina. And Gregor only nodded in acceptance.

---

The bundle of fish simmered in a heavy iron cauldron, joined with an accoutrement of vegetables and herbs, mostly onion and tomato. Now it was just a matter of time, letting the flame heat the broth, which in turn, made everything inside soft and malleable until the entire thing was mostly liquid heat to be poured down the throat. Lina already had most of her fill, but as much as she loved Gregor's essence, real food just settled different, a pleasure that could not be replaced with anything else.

But just the same nothing else could compare to Gregor encircling her stomach and her pressing her back into his chest. Skin on skin, naked before the flames and the rattling rain. The thunder had passed, more or less, dark clouds still having some presence through the gaps, but not crushing. Shame. Now that he was here, Lina almost wanted to jump, just to have him hold her tighter. But this was tight enough.

He still smelled a little bit like river, but less so now. A cloth to get him dry and a new set of pants, despite Lina's protest and insistence that everyone be naked and always be that way. She had to settle for the simple lack of a shirt to hold her down. And to be fair, shirtless Gregor was a treat, something to cherish and admire every second it was exposed. She knew the path the ink took across his skin and she could feel the touch in her mind. The coiled over his stomach, the hard slab across his form. A good back brace, something to curl her spine against and try to meld her skin into his. She could feel his heartbeat, another little sensation of the night.

The sway of a ship at sea might be missed, as well as a high perch made of tree branch and ship prow. But Gregor had trouble climbing up to high places and balancing on them. She didn't fall off trees, but he did and any assertations to the contrary were simple lies. But it was fine to be still, fine to be off the water and on the land where things didn't move. It was fine to stop moving and stop fighting. It was fine to just lie here as her mate held her in his arms, simply breathing and waiting for the fish to finish cooking so they could.

And she could feel his length lying across her thigh, still making it known that it was there and ready at any moment.

Gregor shifted his grip up, just a little bit. And Lina let him. She let him crawl his hand up from the lines and ridges of her stomach to cup her breast and run his thumb over her nipple. Slowly, so slowly he rolled and kneaded the bouncing flesh in his palm, rippling the dark skin, prodding, and jiggling. She felt her breath turn hot.

"Are you sure," she purred. If he was ready for another round, then she wasn't really opposed to the whole affair. But he might be tired, and she wouldn't want to go against someone who hadn't regained their strength. Being outside in the rain tended to sap even her strength and bringing all those creatures back could put a strain on anyone.

In response he squeezed. Just enough to send a little jolt of pain, just a little bit to put down the challenge, just enough to get Lina going and try to respond to the call. She gasped and took in cold her as he went back to the soft massaging, tracing her stomach with his off hand.

Lina wiggled back into him, moving her ass back and forth over his groin, matching his massage with her own. Back and forth, slowly moving faster and faster to get the blood flowing.

Gregor was dealing with something dangerous, and he knew it. Not even a handful of hours before, he had been on the receiving end of her full fury. But Gregor had his own power to deal with and he knew that she had weaknesses. He squeezed again and Lina purred again. She took his other hand and lifted it to her other breast. Invite him in, let him have his fun, overextend and he twisted, and she gasped and felt the rage start to grow. Problem, this was a problem, his strength concentrated on her, pulling, and pushing and squeezing and kneading her faster and faster. And she was facing the wrong way to mount a proper response. She only had her legs writhing and squeezing against him.

He was getting hard, the first step on all this counterattack. She couldn't do anything with him limp and soft. He had to be hard, so hard for her to take him inside and ride him until his spirit was in scattered shards, pulverized into dust motes, forgotten little bits left to rot in the furthest recesses of the world. And he would never leave, and she could have him over and over and over again until the sun went cold. A simple life of pleasure after pleasure after pleasure after pleasure. So nice. He would like that, just being a tool for her enjoyment.

He picked her up like a rag doll and took her to the floor with him on top this time. His mouth on hers, rougher stronger, more brute force of avalanches and rockslides and howling winter winds than she was prepared for. Unskilled, but eager and overbearing. A toy could not do this to her and that was the grand conundrum. Obedience for consistency, or anarchy for unpredictability. Another squeeze and another gasp and his hands left her breasts open to the cold hard, hard, and eager and wonderfully pert. More hands. Gregor needed more hands just for her, to touch everywhere at once. But she settled for one still at her chest and one creeping down, tracing her abs, tracing the insides on the outside, just a soft reminder that she was fertile just as he was.

She slammed a little bit of her weight into him, bucking underneath him as his fingers found her entranced. They entered without a second thought. She was already slick and willing and open for him. Any more foreplay would only make it worse, the hunger and longing, the empty ache inside of her that slowly grew with her womb still empty. That needed to be full. And his fingers were rough, scraping and scouring and gouging, not nearly as attentive and accurate as her own, but that didn't matter. There was enough there, more than enough to batter aside any attempt at sensitivity, to batter aside reason and desire and just leave her in a slowly mounting spire of lust.

His own lust still grew with his attempts to simulate the act with his hand. Lina could feel the pulse, the growth of his own raging libido engrossing into her own. So hot and hard, poking into her stomach, poking into her womb. Fire and flame and thunder raging inside of her, brought on by the rising heat front outside.

He kissed her again, tongue into her mouth, over her lips, wrestling with her own, and she bit, just a little pressure, just a little to know that he was still playing with something feral and dangerous.

He speared into her and she twitched and spasmed and gasped and writhed into her mate as she grabbed onto his intrusion. Too much, too fast, so much flesh and muscle and power into a single motion and Lina was not quite ready to weather the storm with that swiftness. Her core started the twitch and spasm as it tried to maintain her territory as safe and sound. It failed. It failed as he pulled back, turning her inside out. Too long without this, too much in her head the fantasy in her mind that didn't prepare her for the actual thing, the primal, furious hammer of Gregor pounding into her, the mountain collapsing onto her. There was no relent.

Sawing into her, slow scrapes out and slow pushes in, more content with the act of insertion and extraction, elongating the movement into eternity. Lina's mind was blank. Always blank in her mind when Gregor was here. There was only the spread of her insides around her, the jolts and spasms and unfiltered ecstasy. She purred and moaned and screamed at the intruder bringing wonderful gifts of food and pleasure.