She didn’t know why she had agreed to meet him. He wasn’t the sort of man she normally was attracted to. In fact she wasn’t usually attracted to any men, though there had been several boyfriends and even a couple girlfriends in the past. A young professor at a small university, she spent most of her time teaching and in her office writing her book. She knew, in a vague sort of way that an unusual amount of male students came to her office hours to discuss their papers with her, but then again a lot of female students came too. She thought that since she was young for a professor, only 32, the students could relate to her more. She had mentioned this once to her ex-boyfriend who only laughed at her. “Sure,” he said, “You’re young. You are also blonde and Scandinavian and when you get up and give your lectures there must be thirty or so eighteen year old boys staring at your little breasts and long legs and getting hard-ons under their desks.”
Birgitte was single now, still getting over her last break-up, and not terribly interested in doing anything outside of her world of books and writing. But her friend Miranda had persuader her that in honor of “Earth Day” she needed to get out of the office and go for a walk in the woods. “Earth Day,” Birgitte had laughed earlier that morning on the phone with Miranda, “Is that the one where they make you go out and plant trees?”
“No, no no. That’s Arbor Day.” Miranda said impatiently. “This one is different, and I have just the person for you to enjoy it with. Do you remember Sam from that party I took you to?”
Birgitte did remember Sam. She’s felt kind of out of place with all Miranda’s environmental friends, half hippies and half anarchists. She remembered him because when he touched her shoulder gently as he said hello in the crowded room, she felt the shock go down to the pit of her belly, and as she talked with him, she felt warm wetness form in her silky panties. Sam was not all that different from the heroes of the romance novels she read in weak moments. He had green-brown eyes and dark hair, a strong body and rough, warm hands with a firm grip. He spoke gently with her, amused by this woman who seemed quiet and bookish, but nonetheless wore black silky stockings to show off her legs under her skirt. She liked him instinctively, but looking at his face, with a scar high on his forehead, and his eyes that seemed to darken when he spoke of his dislike for authority and anyone who harmed nature, she felt a twinge of fear: he could be dangerous.
“Sam,” Birgitte said lightly to hide her thoughts, “That guy who you are forever bailing out of jail?”
Miranda laughed, “You make him sound like a hardened criminal; he’s an environmentalist. You know, nothing spared in defense of Mother Earth.”
“Yeah well I thought environmentalists were sort of sweet with names like Butterfly and Peace.”
“Well,” Miranda responded, “This one is a bit more of a fighter. Besides he liked you. Just go for a hike with him, get out of your office for once. Look outside, it’s 70 degrees and sunny.”
“Tempting, but I am really not dressed for outside.” Even on the days she was not teaching, Birgitte wore her office clothes, not quite business attire, since the university didn’t call for that, but as a young pretty professor, trying gain some respect, she liked to dress nicely. She also liked to feel sexy. Today she wore a light simple cottony skirt that swished down just past her knees. Her more stretchy cotton shirt buttoned down the front, clung to her breasts and skimmed her tummy. She wore a light cardigan she buttoned over it to hide the fact she didn’t wear a bra—she didn’t need to, her breasts were small and perky. She unbuttoned just the top two buttons, allowing a glimpse of creamy skin.
Miranda persuaded her, telling her that Sam would take it easy on the hike, and soon Birgitte found herself in the parking lot, waiting for Sam’s black 4 X4 to pick her up. He pulled in the lot, the truck filthy and dented from logging roads where he drove to intercede with loggers and politicians determined to destroy the last vestiges of ancient forests.
Sam got out of the truck kicking the dirt off his boots and running a hand through his thick brown hair. He looked at her standing there, with her skirt and black stockings displaying her legs, and the light breeze making her nipples press against the thin cloth of her shirt. She blushed and buttoned her sweater while stealing glances at the way his jeans revealed his long thighs and showed the slimness of his hips in contrast to the broad shoulders under his t-shirt.
Saying little he helped her into the truck and began to drive out of town. As they drove for over an hour, up to the mountains and deep into a national forest, they chatted and Birgitte found herself flirting, and felt that telltale moistness forming again between her thighs. In the confines of the car she found her hand brushing his as they shared a bottle of water and smelling his male scent of the trees and the outdoors. Every time they touched, she wanted him more. She was frightened by the strength of her desire; she had never wanted a man like this.
They parked on the side of a dirt road, Sam grabbed his beat-up pack, and they began to hike along a path, the sun dappling the leaves in front of them. Sam pointed out the ancient yew trees, as well as the beautiful tall Douglas Firs, among the tallest trees in the world. Hundreds of feet tall and deeply majestic, the trees made Birgitte feel free in a way she had not felt since she was a child. How long they hiked for, Birgitte wasn’t sure, but even she, who went running a couple miles every day, was starting to feel tired and her feet sore in her shoes that though practical enough for campus, their slight heel made them uncomfortable for hiking, even on this fairly easy trail. Sam seemed to ignore her discomfort, his slight mocking smile indicating what he thought of women who were heels and lipstick.
He led them off the trail, through a bed of ferns til they came to small stream. Birgitte, stepping carefully to avoid catching her skirt on the shrubs, stumbled to a halt, Sam caught her arms to save her from a sprawl. Feeling his strong hands above her elbows, gripping a little tighter than he needed to, she wondered if perhaps he was feeling a lust similar to hers.
They sat on the smooth boulders by the stream, and Sam, to her surprise, pulled out a bottle of wine, some crusty bread, and cheese. As they ate and drank he spoke passionately of the fight to save the old-growth forests from the greed of corporations such as Weyerhaeuser and Boise-Cascade who wanted to destroy the beautiful spot they sat in, turning it into a clear-cut, and poisoning the fish and the streams with filth as the land was denuded. The government, selling the trees of its national forests to these companies, supported this destruction of Douglas firs and cedars that were hundreds of years old. As he spoke he grew inflamed. Birgitte could see now the anger and the passion Miranda had spoken of that made him fight the forest service and police and spend weeks in jail. She wondered if at some level, he saw her as complicit it what was being done to the forests, dedicated as she was to a life of books and study.
As he spoke, Sam looked at her. He wondered at what he was feeling, it wasn’t just his usual passionate diatribe about the forests that had him aroused. He felt himself harden in his jeans; he wanted to dominate and posses this almost prissy school-teacher until she screamed, and looking at the way she wet her lips as listened to him, and the way her nipples brushed the cloth of her shirt and grew harder, he thought perhaps she might on some level want and need that too. This time it was the teacher who needed to be taught a lesson.
He quietly poured her more wine, watching her eyes get brighter and her cheeks flush. He looked at the way the sunlight through the needles of the trees played on the rich gold of her hair. He knew he was going to fuck her.
Finishing their lunch and carefully putting the trash back in his pack, he pulled her too her feet, almost roughly. She fell against him, feeling his hard chest against her soft breasts. She stayed there against him, and looked up at his strong mouth and into his dark eyes. He leaned down and kissed her lips, lightly tasting the wine on her tongue, then, when she didn’t protest, he kissed her harder. He thrust his hot tongue into her mouth and pressed her roughly against him. She felt the hardness in his pants and her chest began to heave; she felt almost dizzy. Unconsciously she reached up and raked her hands through his hair, then grabbed it to grind his mouth against hers.
Encouraged by her response, Sam slipped a hand up under her skirt. He was shocked to feel that rather than demure panty hose, she wore lace topped stockings. He usually fucked women who wore wool socks and if anything, plain cotton underwear beneath their practical jeans. Birgitte seemed somehow like both an innocent and a whore to him with her teacherly demeanor and fuck-me lingerie. Feeling her wetness through her silk panties, he thrust his hand past them and gently fingered the hot slick part of her that so clearly wanted him. Kissing her harder and holding the back of her head by her hair with one hand, he used the other to violently tear her thin panties off and tossed them aside. With a mental shrug he thought, “Silk, they’re biodegradable.”
Birgitte grasped the back of his neck, feeling the cords of muscle and sinew tense and hot, she darted her tongue into his mouth then pulled back slightly and nipped his lower lip with her teeth, any harder and she would draw blood. He groaned, dominated her mouth with this and began to pinch her nipples and tear at the buttons of her shirt to free her breasts as they strained against the cool material. With his other hand under her skirt he felt the soft hairs of her pussy, moist with desire, and suddenly thrust two strong fingers deep into her soft wet passage.
Birgitte didn’t know if it was the sudden intrusion into a place where she had been untouched for so long, or the quick breeze that splashed cool droplets from the stream onto her hot exposed thighs that brought her back to reality but she quickly realized she was alone, deep in the ancient forest with a stranger, one who Miranda had hinted could be quite violent when the mood came upon him. She was frightened not only by this, but by the passionate way her body responded to him, her slim body wanted to be fucked and fucked hard, even if her mind was not entirely certain.
With a cry she pushed him away, and slapped him as hard as she could across the cheek. She pulled her shirt together and almost mindlessly began to run into the woods. Branches tore at her hair and her clothes as she heedlessly ran, her heart pounding.
Sam watched, rubbing the spot on his cheek where her palm had struck, again with that slight smile. After years of working in the forest he realized that despite her foolishness in running away in a place where she could easily be lost for days, perhaps forever, he knew he could track her heedless path of broken branches, torn shrubs and footprints in the soft earth. He brought his hand to his mouth and licked, tasting her pussy on his finger. He felt himself grow impossibly harder. He wanted her; he wanted to fuck her until she screamed for mercy and for more. He knew in order to get past her fear of him and the wildness he represented, not to mention her edge of prudishness, he was probably going to have to force her a little. No matter, he could feel and taste how much she wanted it. This professor needed to get fucked and fucked hard.
Birgitte ran until she was exhausted, then fell against one of the huge trees, so enormous she couldn’t even begin to span the trunk with her arms outstretched. She crouched there, the soft pine needles forming a drier bed over the moist earth, and gasped for breath. She was scared he would find her, and yet scared he wouldn’t. With her panties gone she could feel the wetness from her pussy dampening her thighs and unconsciously rubbed her legs against each other to feel the pleasurable friction. She was frightened because he was big and strong and possibly violent, but she was also terrified because she wanted him like she had never desired any thing before.
Stalking quietly through the woods, Sam followed the clear trail Birgitte had left. He stepped noiselessly so she would not hear him when he came upon her. From his pack he carefully pulled a length of rope that he often carried in case he might need to scale one of the tall trees he fought to save from certain destruction. He would have a different use for the rope today.
Then he saw her, just ahead through the trees, her blonde head shining against the dark trunk of the tree. He crept up slowly, then when only a short distance away, he purposely stepped on a stick, letting the sharp crack of its breaking startle her. Birgitte leapt to her feet and again began to run, gasping with fear and exhaustion. Sam knew she was too tired to run far or fast, and in a quick sprint he overcame her, grabbing her and spinning her around to face him. Before she could slap him again he grabbed her wrists tightly in his one powerful hand and let her struggle. “You know you want this,” he said.
“No,” she cried, “let me go!”
He laughed quietly, and quickly used his free hand to cut a length of rope, which he used to bind her wrists together. When she began to cry out in protest he pulled a bandana from his pocket and swiftly gagged her with it. Sam was shocked by his own actions, he had always been a straight-sex kind of man, even when it was hard and fast with some woman he had picked up at a bar. But this he knew had to be different.
He tossed another length of rope over a thick low branch of the tree they now stood under and fastened her wrists to it, pushing her body back against the tree and drawing her bound hands high over her head so she stood on her toes. He loved the way it made the nipples of her small firm breasts press harder against her clothing was she struggled. When she began to kick at him, he thought for a moment, then found a thick branch on the ground, about four feet long. Placing it at her feet, he bound an ankle tightly to either end. Now she was helpless, stretched out against the trunk of the tree, with her thighs spread wide apart and her hands tied above her head.
“Well I can’t kiss your lips now,” he said, looking at her gagged mouth. Instead he leaned over and began to lick at her nipples with his rough tongue, sometimes sucking and sometimes biting. Birgitte moaned against her gag, half in anger and fear, and half in sheer ecstasy, thrusting her breasts towards him. When her hips began to grind, seeking to press against him, he dropped lower, unbuttoning her shirt as he went, kissing her tummy and lapping at her soft skin. Dropping to his knees, he lifted her skirt and exposed her soft moist pussy. Even as she struggled and whimpered in her tight rope bonds, she pushed herself towards him and her slick wet cunt shone with her desire for him.
Ignore her small gagged shriek of protest, Sam lapped at her clit roughly with his tongue. With one hand he grabbed her ass, fingering her tight puckered hole, and with the other he again thrust into her pussy with his strong fingers. Birgitte gasped and fought against this intrusion, but even as she fought, she felt pleasure overtake her as his tongue went slow then fast, and sometimes thrust into her. Soon he was suckling her clit while she pushed her pussy to his face. The more she squirmed and fought the harder he finger-fucked her and sucked and licked her clit; the more she protested, her cries of “No, no, no,” muffled by the gag, he harder he did her. Until finally he felt her body begin to contract and her pussy grip his fingers, and she began to scream. Birgitte was overcome by the hardest orgasm she had ever felt in her life, and soon hung there, dizzy and breathless.
Sam stood and untied the gag, and freed her wrists and her ankles, letting her lay disheveled on the sun-warmed earth. Dropping to the ground, he pulled her head onto his lap and she could feel his hard cock pressing against the zipper of his jeans under her cheek. He yanked off his t-shirt to feel the breeze on his sweating chest and play over his body as it rustled the leaves and needles of the forest. Almost without thinking Birgitte, still drunk on the wine and her orgasm, began to fumble with the buckle of his leather belt. He helped her, sitting her up so he could open his jeans and free his straining cock. Her eyes widened at its size, but still seemingly under a spell, she bent over, and took his balls in one hand and grasped the base of his cock with the other. Bending further as he leaned back against the tree, she licked slowly upwards from the base of his penis to the tip, sometimes nibbling with her lips, sometimes gently raking it with her teeth. When she at last wrapped her lips around the head of his cock and began to move her hot mouth up and down the throbbing length of it he thought he would explode. Groaning he grasped her hair and shoved her down harder on his penis until she gasped for air.
Then without warning Birgitte again seemed to remember where she was; she drew back and slapped him away from her. Leaping to her feet in her unbuttoned blouse and leaf-strewn skirt, she was clearly ready to bolt again. Sam was ready for her, though and even thoroughly aroused by her hot mouth and wet tongue, he was able to leap to his feet with the speed of a cat and grab her hair before she could run away. She kicked at him and fought, and now mixed with his desire and arousal was again this need to dominate her and make her scream.
He grabbed his rope again and as she fought him, he yanked her arms behind her back and tied her wrists together. Further up he pulled her elbows together and tied them as well, making her breasts stand out high and taut. He dragged her struggling and biting at him over to a large fallen tree, its prone trunk at least three feet off the ground. She was fairly light, even for her relatively tall height, and he was quite strong, so he easily threw her struggling body across the trunk face down with her dress hiked up and her ass in the air. She kicked and struggled, but he held her down easily. And he began to rub his cock against her hot wet pussy until she moaned. He knew what she really wanted and needed as her struggles grew weaker and she moaned in pleasure.
“Tell me you want me to fuck you,” he whispered in her ear.
“Tell me,” he hissed quietly, rubbing his hand up under her shirt and pinching at her breasts, crushed against the trunk of the fallen tree.
Quietly slipping his belt out of the loops of his jeans, he held her down with one hand and again demanded, “Tell me!” Before she could even respond he yanked up her skirt and cracked the leather of the belt against her the soft skin of her ass. She struggled and screamed as he hit her twice more, then he stepped up between her kicking legs, and prodded her clit with his cock, stroking the welts his belt had made while she gasped. He pushed his cock just a little inside her, getting more and more hard and excited as she struggled.
Birgitte too was getting more excited, she didn’t know what was happening to her, only that she was wet and despite her fears, her body wanted him desperately. She moaned “Oh god yes, Sam please fuck me.”
“Fuck you?” he inquired, “Have you changed your mind? Are you sure that is what you want.” And he pushed his cock a little further in.
“Oh please, yes.”
“Well you haven’t been very good,” he said leaning against her, pushing her harder against the rough bark of the tree.