The Forest

It was a clear, warm summer evening and I couldn't sleep. Restless as usual, I decided a walk might bring on exhaustion. Throwing on a pair of trackies and my favourite t-shirt I stepped outside into the night. It was silent outside except for the insects and the odd owl. I walked to the east, out of town, towards the pine tree forests. I felt perfectly safe - I had done this walk millions of times before and never seen anybody out here at this time of night.

I walked along the edge of the pines, enjoying the warm breeze flowing over my skin. Clearing my thoughts, I relaxed completely, at home among the trees. I walked deeper into the trees without realising. Before I knew it I could no longer see the lights of the town or the stars above. The moon shone weakly through small gaps in the trees somewhere to my right. It was time to be getting back.

It came so suddenly out of the silence: the flapping of wings above and claws ripping into my arm as I tried to fight it off. As quickly as it came it was gone, the owl gliding silently onto a branch not far away. I watched it, clutching my scratched arm - it had gouged deeply near my wrist. My breathe froze as I realised that beneath the owl stood a man. He stood squarely, his long hair tied back, his chest bare, his eyes fixed on mine. I saw longing there. I saw a contest and a prize to be won. He would have me no matter what.

Like a rabbit caught in headlights I was stunned until a small movement out of the corner of my eye brought me out of it. I was in the middle of the forest, alone, and bleeding. And there was a man out here who was twice my size and would kill me without breaking a sweat. I ran. My feet pounded deftly through the undergrowth, towards the road. That was my goal. As long as I got to the road I would be able to see the town lights. Surely he wouldn't dare to follow me along the road.

I glanced back to see if he was following, but he was nowhere. I breathed a bit easier as I saw a clearing up ahead - I was nearly there. And then, suddenly, there he was. An arms length away from me he met my path and blocked it. I screamed and stopped mid-stride. His eyes, again, were captivating. They were wild. He looked liked a wild man; a man who would not be talked down. I held my arms out between us, palms up, trying to calm myself as much as him.

"It's okay. I was just going back into town. I didn't mean to trespass..." I said, breathlessly, trying to take control of the situation. Control which was obviously his. He stepped toward me. I stepped back.

"No, no... You stay there, shhhh, you stay right there," like trying to calm a wild animal. A thousand things were racing through my mind. How could I get out of this alive? My voice started to shake as I continued, "I'm just going to go back into town, and I'll never tell anyone you're out here. I won't tell anybody I promise. Just let me go back to town and it'll all be okay. It'll all be fine, okay?" The authority I was trying to convey just wasn't working. His eyes were merciless, hunting, black. I took a deep breathe. I had to get out of here. He stalked toward me, while I retreated back. I glanced behind me, checking my path, and in that split second he came toward me, gripping my wrists tightly. I pulled back, fighting, kicking, and lost my balance. As I fell over a branch, he let me fall to the ground, landing on top of me heavily.

I screamed. I beat at his chest with my free arms before he caught them again in one hand. His eyes bore into mine inexorably. His weight lifted off me as he stood up and pulled me up with him. I breathed heavily in relief. I stumbled as he turned me around and pulled me against his chest, his one hand still gripping my wrists, his other hard on my waist. He pushed me forward, so that we were walking back into the forest. I gasped involuntarily, flinching, as he moved his hand on my wrist and pressed into the open wound caused by his malevolent owl. He moved his hand further up my arm, closer to my elbow and tightened his grip again. We walked in this strange fashion for a while until we were so deep in the pines I couldn't see the moon. I just barely made out the shape of a hut in the darkness when it came. And then I realised we had reached our destination.

It all became too real again. I struggled, pushing back against him, digging my feet into the ground. "No, no, no..." I begged. He ignored my pleas. Shifting his weight he turned around so that he was dragging me backwards, and pulled me easily towards the door. We went inside and he threw me into the far corner of a black room. He shut the door. I could hear him moving about inside the hut. Just as I was about to race to the door, he struck a match and I could see that if I moved an inch he would be at the door before I would. The room was sparse, with very little furniture, and a large rug in its centre. As I took in my surroundings, he moved about the room lighting candles. Then he was in front of me with something in his hands. He knelt down and reached toward my right arm. I saw that he was holding a first aid kit. He wanted to bandage my wrist. Incredulous though it was, he very gently and slowly, as if he didn't want to scare me, cleaned the blood from my arm and gauzed and bandaged the gash above my wrist. As soon as it was done he backed away from me and went to put the first aid kit away. I cradled my arm and looked to the door again.

He was in my path again. His large frame blocked my line of vision as he moved to the center of the rug and sat down, cross-legged, facing me. He motioned toward me. He wanted me to sit with him. I looked at the door again. His eyes blocked mine again. He hadn't said a word the whole time, yet his eyes managed to convey, at each moment, a message. Right now they were saying, "I don't want to hurt you. But I will if I have to." I stood and walked to the edge of the rug. He motioned in front of him, leaning back against him. I began to tremble. I moved to him, sitting cross-legged in front of him, my back to him. I whimpered as his arms came around me: one around my waist, the other over my left shoulder and across my chest. Slowly he pulled me back into him. With his hand at my right shoulder, he pulled down the neck of my t-shirt, revealing cold skin. His lips brushed over my neck, my shoulder, as silent tears ran from my eyes. My breathing stopped.

He pulled my t-shirt down my front and leaned over me to kiss the front of my neck skillfully. His hand began to knead my breast. He moved himself closer to me, his leg propped next to me now. He devoured my skin. His left arm, which had been holding my arms so that I could not fight, now wandered under my t-shirt, trailing along my waist, fluttering up to my breasts, touching me through my bra. He began to lift my t-shirt, sliding it up along my skin and lifting my arms to guide it off. My breathing came raggedly as the warm air brushed over me. The silent tears continued. Tears of fear, hate, incomprehension, anger, betrayal, helplessness.

He curled his right arm now over my shoulder and across my chest, moving his soft kisses along the left side of my neck, shoulder, chest. His right leg curled around my waist, pulling him even closer, while his hands kneaded my breasts through my bra. Slowly he inserted his fingers under the lace and cupped my breasts inside the bra. A small betraying gasp escaped me. I could feel him smile against my skin. He leisurely moved to my right, his leg now bent over my front, his chest at my side, his hand making trails over my back, his eyes now able to rape mine explicitly. He moved his lips to mine, playing with my resistance. His hands exploring my naked torso, his lips my soul, I could no longer escape. He carefully picked up my hands, placing them on his bare chest. I pushed him away softly, weakly, until I could no longer resist his assault. I began to move my hands over his chest, to feel the muscles, the small scars, the ridges and curves of his body.

Bit by bit, his hands moved down my body, lingering on the outside of my thighs, my knees, the waistband of my trackpants. My movements matched his, my hands resting on the coarse denim of his jeans. With his silken hand on my chest and his lips at my throat, he carefully shifted his weight, moving his leg from behind me, bringing his body in front of mine, pushing me softly back into the rug. Our legs tangled as I uncrossed mine and he moved his hands purposefully to my waistband. With his eyes on mine, just in case I would still fight, he deftly slid my trackpants down my now straightened legs, letting his hands slide over them, as he did so. Certain that I would not move now, that I was too far gone, he repeated the action with my underpants, kissing my soft skin with his lips as he slid the fabric over my waist, my private centre, my thighs, my knees, my calves, my ankles. He moved back up my body, caressing my curves as he went, resting his head at the lips between my legs. As his tongue flicked over me, I could not repress a moan of longing. He suckled gently and I groaned hungrily. There were no longer any thoughts of escape or of fighting this gentle lover. There was just unbridalled lust, need, passion. As my need became more insistent, as his lips and tongue and fingers explored my most intimate places, I began to move my body beneath him. My hands clutched the rug and his shoulders and head alternately until I could feel the telltale tension building within me. As I began to thrust myself into him he mercilessly moved his focus back up my body to my breasts. Caressing my lips with his, he let his hands wander over my breasts and slide behind my back to undo the clasp. This done he gently slid the straps over my wandering arms. My insistence began to build again, as he ravished my naked body, suckling my nipples while brushing his fingers between my legs, entering me with one finger at a time. He brought me again almost to the point of release before abandoning my need once more. Yearning now, my hands done exploring his bare skin, I unhooked the button on his jeans and hastily pushed down his zipper. He obliged me by removing the jeans himself and he was finally laying against me, naked skin against naked skin.

Our eyes locked in our final embrace, my hands explored this new territory, tracing the curves of his buttox, the powerful build of his hips, until he took my hand to what I was most hesitant to touch. He curled me around his manhood, strong, enormous, seductive. 
I stroked, touched, flicked, cupped, could feel him jump and start at each delicious sensation. I could feel the blood coarsing through him, the power build within. His wild growl brought me back to earth, his eyes shining with more than hunger, more than need, more than lust. His eyes met mine as he took my arms in his, pulled them easily above my head on the rug and thrust deeply into me. I screamed as he plunged into me, a scream of pleasure. I could feel myself stretching to accommodate him, bigger than I had ever experienced. I could feel my muscles rippling around him as he moved slowly, pulling himself almost completely out before thrusting hard again. Deeply, gently, slowly, he began to move inside me, writhed with me on the rug. His lips devoured mine almost as completely as his manhood was, hunting for sweet release. As we began to build he thrust faster, shorter, coarsely, assaulting me insistently. Again he slowed, deepened, arched my back to meet him and plunged again. My moans of ecstasy matched his growls as his fingers traced over my naked body, supporting, tantalising, caressing. I locked my legs around his hips as he thrust deeper and I could feel myself build around him again. My fingers curled into his back as I was drawn closer with every thrust. I felt him grow bigger, expanding with the need for release, the pressure building intense and smoldering, before he spilled his seed deliciously into me. I felt it coming, my intensity building as he found my most sensitive spot, and I was tipped over the edge into complete abandon. We writhed together, our sounds of release spreading around us.

We lay together like that for the rest of the night, and repeated the act twice more before morning rose over the pine forest and I was forced to go back to my home. Summer evenings have certainly changed for me now as my silent lover and I hunt to ease our lust.