Jungle Man Ch. 02bymermaid_girl©
Clara was slowly regaining consciousness. Her pillow was so comfortable; it was warm, smooth, smelled of sandalwood, and was, moving? What the…
Opening her eyes slowly, her gaze clashed with a pair of warm chocolate ones. They held a warm softness that had an underlying hint of determination. Looking lower she could see a mouth set in the hinted determination.
Peering up at this huge strange man, who was walking swiftly through the forest with her cradled in his arms as though she weighed no more than a child, sent tumulus emotions through her; fear, confusion, worry, and oddly, desire.
She was utterly stunned. The man was gorgeous. He had long black hair that was pulled back somehow. Brown eyes that reminded her of a Hershey's bar, which she was now for some inexplicable reason craving. A straight, almost aristocratic nose that would have been perfect except for the slightest bit of a curve that said it had been broken at least once. But that didn't take away from his beauty, it enhanced it. It helped to make him look more masculine and rugged.
Then there were his lips. Clara couldn't get over the sensual bow of his upper lip combined with the temptingly full lower lip. She wanted to wrap her arms around his head and bring him down for a kiss that would tell her if he tasted as good as he looked. The 5 o'clock shadow only made the "wild man" look complete. Of course the bare chest and loincloth helped to cement the wild man look, too.
A Greek God out of one of her wildest fantasies, which she usually only shared with her removable shower head, was carrying her towards God knew where and all she could think about was how beautiful the man was.
Sweet Jesus, has it been that long? I'm letting some wild man carry me off to who knows where and all I can think about is if his upper lip tastes as good as it looks. I need committed, she thought with disgust.
Rallying her courage, she was no wilting flower damn it all, she asked the giant in a steady, calm voice that she was far from feeling, "Who are you? What are you doing and why are you carrying me…" searching for just the right insult "…Jungle Man?…"
There was no response, his stride didn't falter for a second. If anything his eyes darkened with something Clara didn't want to know what, and he watched her lips move.
"Look buddy, thanks for saving me from that creep, Alano, he stunned me for a second but I can take care of myself from here on out, okay? So you can put me down." When he failed to comply with her wishes she added for his benefit, "Now would be great." Again he just watched her lips, as if fascinated by the movement. "Do you understand? I can walk, on my own."
When he just continued to look at her something made her wonder if he could understand what she was saying.
"Look Tarzan, if you can understand what I'm saying and just being difficult, just move your head. If you don't then I guess I know you can't understand me… Wouldn't that be just great", she muttered the last to herself.
Looking up at him expectantly she waited for what felt like forever but was most likely 5 seconds. Slowly as if amused by her, he moved his head up and then down once.
This infuriated Clara, "Okay Tarzan, you can obviously understand what I'm saying and yet you refuse to do as I ask. Why? Hmmm, you can't actually enjoy carting me around Tarzan, and where are you taking me?"
Watching her lips, closely and intently, he raised his head to look her in the eyes. A silent gasp and a tripping heartbeat later, Clara was looking at this stranger with some apprehension.
Slowly he said four words, "Manolito." He then set her down on her own feet and laid his hand on his chest. "Manolito", he repeated. Then just as slowly he extended his arm and touched her chest and said, "Mine." Pulling back an inch he touched her chest again, "Mine."
"Whoa whoa whoa. Are you kidding, there is no 'mine,' I am not a 'mine.'" Touching her chest she said slowly, "Clara, Clara." Touching her chest each time she said her name.
Reaching out he touched her chest and said, "Clara." There was such warmth and sheer happiness in his eyes at just saying her name, the intensity scared the beejesus out of her. He didn't know her, why would there be any kind of intensity when he looked at her?
Clara was worried. She thought that maybe he could understand some of her words but couldn't understand everything or what she wanted. She wanted to go home, back to the U.S., back to her family, back to ice cream and double mocha lattes… But that was beside the point. She had to find a way to get Tar- Manolito to understand her. Did he even speak English, or did he just know a few words?, she wondered.
Tuned to the thoughts going a thousand miles an hour through her head, Clara didn't notice right away that his eyes were heating up with something more than just "happiness." It wasn't until he had moved his hand to cup one of her breasts that she noticed this change in him.
There was a predatory edge to him. All of a sudden his face looked harsh, possessive, and oh god here we go, she thought, horny. "Look, Tar-, I mean Manolito, I ahhh…"
Suddenly thought was not possible as he began to pinch and roll her nipple. He seemed riveted to the sight of his massive hand engulfing her breast; hell she was too. Cradling it with an infinite gentleness that was completely at odds with the hard and pleasurable ministrations her nipple was receiving.
Holy shit, I am letting Tarzan, wait no, Manolito, feel me up. Oh lord, she thought. What was she supposed to do: it wasn't every day the object of ones fantasies felt one up.
Right when Clara felt enough sanity to command him to stop, he chose that instant to lift his other hand and pay homage to her other lonely and neglected nipple.
"Please Manolito, please…," she was whimpering for him to do something, she just didn't know what exactly. Gathering her last shreds of control, Clara found the strength to take a step back and away from his hands.
This didn't do any good at all because Manolito just followed her, stalking her like she was his prey.
Back peddling until she was up against a tree, Clara put her hand out as if to stop Manolito. Ohh, she thought. He felt so good. She could feel his muscles rippling under her hand, the hand that was supposed to be keeping him back but was now smoothing across his chest, feeling and learning everything to know about it.
Manolito groaned at her touch. She was driving him crazy he thought. He leaned forward and nuzzled the sensitive skin where neck met shoulder. Trailing his mouth along until he found the hollow of her neck. Mine, he thought savagely, happily.
He couldn't explain how he knew this, or why he felt this. It just was. She was everything he could ever want and he intended to keep her.
Her pale blonde hair was so light it was almost white as it gleamed in the sunlight. Her body was slender but her breasts were a perfect handful and to his delight, very responsive.
But what he liked, loved most about her, was her expressive blue eyes. They were a stormy color that he could only compare to the color of the sky after the worst rainstorms. Manolito could read her emotions clearly through her mirror-like eyes.
Her mouth. Her lush and temptingly red lips seemed to come out of his most vivid and erotic fantasies. Manolito could envision her on her knees before him, taking in as much of his cock as she could.
Stopping wasn't an option. After seeing that bastard hurt her and almost violate her in one of the vilest ways he could think of, Manolito had to just touch her, make sure she was alright. But even more than that was just this driving need to touch what was his.
Something about Clara made Manolito feel like a primitive caveman that felt the simple, primitive urge to claim his woman.
Backing her up against the trunk of a tree that was probably five times wider than Clara and taller than the eye could see, he bent his head down to the crook of her neck and just took a deep breath. He breathed in her scent to the point that he was dizzy and just wanted more.
Oh my god, is he doing what I think he's doing? When he took another deep breath Clara thought, Yep, he's sniffing me. Who doesn't smell a new acquaintance in this innovative modern day and age... Where did that flower come from? she thought. No sooner had the thought come to her than he started to use the innocent weapon on her.
Trailing the flower from her left temple down her cheek had her breaking out in goosebumps. Bringing it back up he swept the petals over the curve of her cheek to lightly touch the sensitive skin under her eyes. Trailing the rose back down her nose, he brought it to rest against her full bottom lip.
Looking her straight in the eye he started to lightly skim her lips with the soft petals until she was aching for the pressure only his lips could provide.
Gasping as he outlined the slight curving bow of her top lip, she used every last ounce of will power to keep from pulling him down and attacking him in a kiss to end this sensual torment. How the hell is this wild man coming up with these moves? Does he get The Bachelor or something in his hut?
Not able to handle the sensations this jungle man was causing her to feel, her eyelids drifted shut and Clara allowed herself to just feel.
Manolito thought that she was so achingly beautiful. Her eyes had closed and rested on her cheeks like butterfly wings, her lips were slightly open, and her cheeks were flushed with her rising arousal.
Leaning in he briefly touched his lips to hers. "Clara," he whispered reverently. Her eyes fluttered open at the touch of his lips and her whispered name. She gasped and then moaned as he swooped in and kissed her again.
It was sooo delicious, she thought. He was quite possibly the best kisser she ever had the privilege to lock lips with. He must practice on a mango, maybe a tree? God forbid, a monkey or animal of some sort.
Scattering her thoughts, his lips were soft, nibbling here and there, light bites that had just the right pressure to have Clara gasping and opening her lips to allow him entrance.
However, once he gained entrance he turned aggressive and commanding. He swept in like he owned her and took everything that she had to give and more. Manolito left no part of her untouched, swallowing her moans. His tongue teased and dared hers to follow him back.
Panting and gasping for breath, Clara shakily broke the kiss and looked up at this man with a look akin to awe. "Where the hell did you learn that, Jungle Man?, she rasped out.
Manolito just felt as though his world had been turned upside down and could only look at her, dazed that she could even speak.
Misunderstanding his dazed look to be confusion over her words only strengthened Clara's belief that Manolito really couldn't understand what she was saying.
Reaching up she cupped his face, feeling an odd connection to this wild man. "Where did you come from, Manolito?" Trying to come back down to earth, talking was a challenge; she deserved some kind of medal.
However, talking wasn't on Manolito's agenda at this point, touching Clara and learning every curve and nuance of her body was.
Parting the already ripped edges of her dress, he bent his head to take her still hard nipples into his mouth. Her skin tasted sweet but held a hint of something darker that was Clara. Nibbling on the sensitive flesh, he took to rolling her other nipple like he had earlier.
Taken by surprise, all Clara could do was lean against the tree for support and tag along for the ride Manolito was taking her on. His mouth felt so good. He was distracting her from her inquisition and that would only be agreeable until he took his lips from her body.
Feeling something hard against her stomach, Clara tried to focus on what was touching her. Looking down she could see an impressive tent in Manolito's loincloth. Hmmm, guess they do grow 'em bigger in the jungle, she concluded hazily.
Licking her lips Clara wondered just how impressive his erection really was. Being no virgin she saw no problem with having a bit of fun before she got out of her captor's clutches.
Clara's head suddenly lolled back, impressive bulges forgotten, when Manolito managed to push both of her breasts together and took both of her nipples into his warm, wet mouth.
Moaning was all Clara was capable of at this point. "Manolito, please. More. Please," was all she could say, repeating Please over and over again.
Somehow Manolito ended up on his knees, his hands sensually trailing up her leg until his hands were under her dress.
Looking up into her glazed eyes Manolito slowly began to raise the hem of her dress until he had it up around her waist, baring her thatch of golden curls.
Hmph, where did my underwear go off to?, she wondered. Then it came crashing back. Suddenly it wasn't Manolito kneeling in front of her, promising her pleasure beyond her wildest dreams.
It was that scum Alano. It was his evil grin smiling up at her and ripping away her panties, not Manolito's gentle look of almost worship. Clara felt Alano's hands pawing at her flesh, leaving a sick and slimy feeling, not her wild man whose touch brought only pleasure.
Rational thought wasn't possible. Thrashing about, all Clara wanted was to get away from the person holding her against the tree who she believed was the man who tried to rape her, and nearly succeeded.
"Let me go. Stop it, Alano. Let me go," she whimpered, tossing about wildly with glazed eyes that didn't really see.
Holding her in place, Manolito saw the sudden crazed look in her eye and knew he spooked her, had triggered something. Standing up he held her to him but against the tree so she couldn't run away like he knew she wanted to. She looked so small and scared, so fragile and beaten.
Crooning softly to her and trailing butterfly kisses across her shoulders, neck and face seemed to slowly calm her. Slowly, Clara realized that it was her jungle man that held her, firmly, but gently.
Clara finally got control of herself and looked up at the man who had been talking softly to her, trying to calm her. She felt a small part of her want him with a fierceness that scared her because she didn't know where it had come from.
The fact that he had just been murmuring sounds and not actual words didn't get pass her. This made her suspicion that he couldn't speak English seemed to become cemented after this incident. I want to be able to talk to him, know what he's thinking, know what he's saying, she thought.
Looking up at him, Clara said something that completely surprised her, "I'm going to teach you how to talk. If it's the last thing I do, you will speak English… or just enough English to at least talk dirty to me," she finished with an impish grin.
Oh shit, thought Manolito. He had just been whispering nonsense so she'd calm down. She's going to be so pissed when she finds out that I can speak English. But this may give me the time to win her heart.
"But I need you to take me back to the village," Clara went on, not knowing his thoughts. At his dark look she let out an exasperated breath, "Look buddy, you may not know what I'm saying, but you understand the meaning. Now take me back and I will meet with you in the village and give you lessons there." Looking up at him expectantly she waited for him to step back and lead her back to the village. She couldn't wait to get back so she could press charges against that bastard, Alano. His ass was grass as far as she was concerned. She was going to make sure he didn't hurt another woman the rest of his life.
Something unmovable and hard slid in between her thighs, interrupting her thoughts. Desire still coursed through her body and Manolito touching her still throbbing pussy with his leg and touching her oversensitive nipples brought her back to 10 minutes ago when all she wanted was release.
Distracting her so that she would forget about going back to the village, Manolito hoped he could wear her out so that he could get her back to his home, so she'd be safe and sound, and all his.
Knowing how she liked to have her nipples caressed, it took Manolito no time to get Clara back to the fever pitch that she had been at before she got scared.
"Wh-What are you doing Mannie?", she asked, not even noticing the nickname that slipped out of her lips.
His heart caught at the name that only family and close friends had called him by. Hearing this from the woman he knew to be his sent him over the edge.
Where as he had been gentle and light, he turned domineering and commanding.
Grunting, Manolito noticed the branches that were thick and about head level for him, but way out of reach for Clara.
Lifting Clara to sit on one of these thick branches that could hold her slight weight brought her to the perfect height for him to play with her cunt. Briefly looking above her he saw more of these branches that were within arms reach for her that she could hold onto.
Motioning to these branches, Manolito ordered tersely, "Grab." That way she could hold onto something as he explored her until he was satisfied.
Knowing what he was about to do, Clara hurriedly reached for the branches that were an inch or two above her head and hung on tightly and prepared for, she suspected, to be one of the best experiences of her life.
Slipping his thumbs past her pussy lips, Manolito slowly parted her to his searing gaze. Moaning low in her throat, Clara pushed her hips out, offering herself as bluntly as possible.
"Hurry, Manolito." When he just looked up at her like he knew what he was doing to her with a promise that the ache was going to get worse before better, she whimpered, "Please jungle man. Please touch me."
Growling, he mindlessly dove for her cunt. He licked her from her clit down in one swoop. Clara's words turned him into the wild man that she thought he was. Grunting at her in disapproval for slightly shifting away, he looked up at her and mumbled at her.
Sighing Clara moved back so that she was poised on the edge of the branch and spread her legs wide in a way of apology.
Accepting this, Manolito went back to enjoying himself. This "wild man" stuff certainly had its advantages, he mused through his lust. He could be this jungle man that didn't have to speak more than necessary and still got his point across.
Letting go of the branch with one hand, Clara reached out and grabbed ahold of his silky locks to pull and push him closer to her aching flesh.
"Oh, Manolito. You're making me crazy. Please, finish this. Please." Gazing down at him, Clara realized he wouldn't know what she was saying. She gasped out, "God I wish you could understand me."
Did I think she's going to be pissed when she finds out I can actually understand her perfectly. Scratch that, she'll kill me. He was concerned with this for a second before he wisely figured, Bah, she'll love me by then. No worries. Dipping his head he went back to work on keeping her a mass of quivering flesh, to making her burn.
Licking, biting, nibbling, teasing. God he was an awful tease, Clara thought mournfully. Letting go and just concentrating on the feelings he was evoking so easily, she didn't wonder why he was so skilled for a "wild man."
The pressure was building until it was intolerable. The pleasure bordered on pain and Clara was close to losing her mind.
"Manolito, Manolito, please…" rasped out Clara. The tree branch above her was forgotten as she tunneled both hands in his hair and pulled him against her, getting him as close to her as possible.