Survivors: Part 1

Sheela B.
xxx-fiction-story-disclaimer-top2

“Omigod, what the fuck is your problem,” Melissa said, blushing, as she turns her head in embarrassment, not daring to look into the arrogant eyes of the man who stands at ease beside the partly demolished fuselage of the wrecked plane.

“What’s the matter, Mrs. Paxton, haven’t you ever been propositioned before?” he asks, his eyes, crinkling at the corners into deep crow’s feet, his disarming smile revealing straight, white and even teeth contrasting with the deep tan of his lean, good-looking face.

“Given our situation, Mr. Lloyd,” she said with raised eyebrows. “It’s hardly appropriate.”

“Call me ‘TJ’.”

“No, thank you, Mr. Lloyd,” she said crossing her arms over her chest. “Just keep your distance.”

“Think it over, Melissa—”

“Mrs. Paxton to you,” she said harshly.

“Mrs. Paxton,” he said insolently. “You’re not in a good position here.”

“Why?”

“Simple, I’ve got something you want, and—” he leers, looking over her trim, sensuous figure, “you’ve got something I want.”

“The answer, Mr. Lloyd, is NO.”

His slow, confident smile is maddening to her; she turns away from him, her eyes misting with disappointment she’ll never allow him to see, and moves ten yards across the small natural clearing to the rude shelter where her husband lies on his sleeping bag. She stops in front of the lean-to and for the thousandth time scans the bright, blue sky, shading her eyes against the glare, hoping and praying this time a search plane will fly into view; likewise her ears strain for the sound of an airplane engine. There’s nothing in the sky except dipping, caroling birds and flitting insects. The wind, sighing through the upper branches of the forest seems extraordinarily loud in her ears as her now more than sensitive ears catches sounds of the wilderness. The creaking of branches, the chatter of squirrels, the buzz of insect wings and the gurgling sounds of water over the rocks in the stream bed flowing through the small glade.

In different circumstances, this place might have been an idyllic paradise, far from the cares and pressures of everyday life, and she’d have been tempted to stay, make it a retreat or Shangri-La where a person can live a simple life of peace and contemplation. The circumstances, however, makes it less than a paradise, and more like a hell on earth. Ever since their plane had hurtled through the tree tops to crash in grinding, metal-tortured horror in this northern wilderness. With a conscious act of will, she blots the details of the plane’s terrifying descent and subsequent violent crunch to earth in this isolated spot. The memory of those moments is still too vivid, too laden with fear and terror for her.

Melissa peers at her husband, his bandage-swathed head laying on the rough material of the sleeping bag a further reminder to her of those awful moments. Julian had been sitting in the copilot’s seat when the plane crashed, flinging him forward, his head striking hard against the instrument panel, knocking him unconscious and opening a mean looking gash in his forehead. He was unconscious for a day and a half; since then he has periods of consciousness, during which he seems to be lucid, lapsing after an hour or so into incoherent mumbling followed by passing out again. His moans had prompted her to ask TJ Lloyd, the pilot, whether there is some kind of pain-relieving tablets in the medicine supplies. The innocent question distorted and turned back on her in a most unexpected way.

“Sure, there’s Tylenol in there. Why?” TJ asks with a sly grin.

He made no move to get them from the kit. Instead, he lounges back, easily, his hands in his pockets and a lewd smile playing over his face.

She draws a sharp breath and releases it loudly. “Julian is in pain and I’d like to give him something for it,” she said.

“I’m sure you do, Mrs. Paxton, but what are they worth to you?” TJ asks.

“I didn’t think I’d have to pay for them,” she said shaking her head. “Where’s your humanity?”

“I’m not talking about money, Melissa.”

“Oh?”

She is surprised at his use of her first name; it becomes a little too personal. He is a charter pilot, and, to her, it seems he’s assuming too much. True, he is a handsome man of trim, athletic build and proportions, standing almost six feet tall, with blond, sun-streaked hair and ice-blue eyes.

“Out here,” he said, looking, pointedly, around at the crash site with an air of complete confidence, “out here, no amount of money can buy those pain pills. I’m in charge here, and they might be needed for something later.”

“What can be more serious than my injured husband,” she asks glaring at him. “The man you injured by crashing this fucking plane, asshole.”

He smiles at her anger. “Melissa, you’re a married woman and you surely know all about the birds and bees,” he said leaning back.

She gasps, and her cheeks glow red as she realizes what currency the pilot seeks for the pills. “You mean?”

“I mean, if you want those tablets bad enough you’ll be willing to pay for them with the only negotiable currency you’ve got. I do accept the V-Card.”

“You creep. You monster. You’d deny an injured man just to satisfy your lust?” she asks hitting her fist against her thigh.

“The V-Card is a currency used by many women to get what they want,” he said coldly. “I want to fuck, and you want my pills—quid pro quo.”

The words hang vibrant in the air between them, yet Melissa ends the conversation with the pilot to return to the shelter where her husband lies injured.

TJ Lloyd stares as she walks away from him, her haughty shoulders squared, indignant head held high. He notes how her rounded buttocks fill the bright-pink shorts she wears, her thighs taper to dainty knees linking to finely curved calves and trim ankles. Her blouse leaves nothing to the imagination either, its sheer cloth revealing ample, thrusting breasts held by a skimpy bra threatening to release the burden of her white fleshy mounds at the slightest provocation. She’ll be back, he thought feeling his cock stiffen. I’d bet the farm on it, fuck, she’s hot.

Melissa sits tiredly beside her husband. She refuses to allow herself the luxury of tears; their present predicament is too desperate. They have crashed in rugged mountain country, somewhere in the Canadian Rockies. TJ guessed after studying his maps carefully thought the closest settlement is Fort Ware.

“The bad news is we’re closer to Muskwa Peak, than Fort Ware, though,” TJ said, impressing them with the seriousness of their position.

Another survivor, Julian’s boss named Ben Smith said, “We’re fortunate it’s summer instead of winter, we’d all die of hypothermia in a day out here.”

“The likelihood anyone will find us is slim,” TJ said shaking his head. “But the best thing we can do for now is stay put and see if the authorities can find us.”

“What if they don’t?” Ben’s wife Claire asks. “What do we do then?”

“They won’t start looking for us until someone declares us overdue,” Ben said, “and even then there’s probably been no flight plan lodged, right?”

“TJ nods.

“What does that mean?” Melissa asks glancing between the three.

“It means—” Ben begins.

“IT MEANS—” TJ shouted over him, “the authorities don’t know exactly where to look for us.”

The older man glances away and mumbles vaguely to his stunned wife.

“But Julian isn’t able to leave,” Melissa said going pale. “We can’t leave him here.” Julian suddenly moans and opens his eyes. He focuses on Melissa sitting beside him, his hand going out toward her. She turns toward him, happily, as his hand touches her back. “Oh, Julian, you’re awake. How do you feel, Darling?”

“Fucked,” he said weakly.

“Is your head still hurting?”

“It keeps pounding as if it’s gonna explode,” he said with a downturned mouth.

Melissa stares sullenly at his drawn face, his eyes haggard and burning in his ashen face. She knows he’s suffering, and a measure of relief, in the form of pain-relieving pills is available a few paces away.

Omigod, I don’t know which way to turn, she thought, feeling her stomach churn. It’s tearing me up to see Julian in such pain. I have to do something to help him, give him some relief but TJ controls everything. What am I to do?

With a long, drawn-out groan, her husband’s body shudders and he lapses, again, into unconsciousness. She leans over him and kisses his forehead.

“Julian, oh, Julian—my poor darling,” she whispers and sobs.

She loves her husband with her heart and soul; her life revolves around him and it’s never occurred to her before she might lose him. Now, the morbid thought of his impending death hangs over her, paralyzing her with fear. He needs her, now, in his time of suffering. All she has been able to do for him to this point is make him comfortable, dress his wounds, and keep him hydrated. The knowledge a drug is available to ease his pain makes the acquisition of the Tylenol urgent.

Julian, I love you and I’d do anything for you, she said in her mind. The horrible bargain I’ll have to make just to get those pills—Ugh. She shivers. Let another man violate my body that’s pledged to you. To violate our wedding vows, oh God, I need help.

Suddenly, Julian mumbles, “Fuck, look out. We’re going in— Hang on—Melissa—We’re gonna crash.”

A horrible groan escapes his lips; the sound of it stabs her brain painfully.

If I do nothing, what does that make me, she wonders? TJ said I have a negotiable currency, my body. Why does he have to be such a vile man and insist on such a thing. He’s giving me no choice. Do nothing and let Julian suffer, or give in to TJ and get the pills. I hate him so much.

Thinking she must do something, anything, she rises, goes to the cooking area, selects a small aluminum pan and moves to the gurgling little stream of ice-cold water to bathe Julian’s face with the cold water, hoping it’ll give him some comfort, and perhaps lower his temperature. TJ watches her; he knows she’s troubled, the burden of his unorthodox bargain weighing heavily upon her. He wants a drink from the stream, anyway, so he moves to where she kneels filling the pan with the clear water.

He stands behind her, his eyes raking her luscious body, hungrily noting the milky-white skin revealed between the waistband of her shorts and the square cut tail of her blouse. Her spine marches up her back and the ridges of her ribs curving softly away. Below, the nipping curve of her waist flares into the provocative curve of her hips. Her globoid buttocks wags in the air back at him, as she dips the water then sits back on her heels. He has a sudden vision of those same buttocks, bare, shoving back at him as his hard cock plunges into the moistness of her widespread pussy lips. His cock jerks erect, reminding him how long it’s been since he’s had a woman of her quality. Shit, she’s so fucking hot, he thought, I don’t know when I’ve wanted a woman more than I want her.

Melissa is aware, he’s standing behind her. She has to remain calm, so this man can’t get inside her defenses. Getting to her feet, she turns and faces him. His arrogant blue eyes smile lewdly into her green-hued orbs. The revulsion in her as she sees his lust, causes her to step around him without a word. He catches her elbow and swings her back to face him.

“Not so fast, Melissa, we have some unfinished business,” he said.

“No. No, we don’t, Mr. Lloyd,” she said coldly. “There’s nothing for us to discuss.”

TJ lounges back, relaxes, his tone conversational as he gives her directions.

“See the top of that little ridge to the north, there’s a big oak tree and a beautiful view. About one-thirty, I’m gonna be there with the pills,” he said. “All you have to do is follow the stream about two hundred yards west where there’s a little waterfall, then up the north slope. It’s not hard to find if you want those pills.”

“If you’ll be so kind as to release me, I’ll go back and attend to the needs of my husband.”

“You’re a stuck- little bitch aren’t you?” TJ said with a sneer.

“You’re the creep who’d use my husband’s injury to rape me,” Melissa said with a flinty stare. “What kind of man are you?”

“I’m the kind who wants to fuck you,” he said, “and you’re the kind of woman who wants to be fucked.”

“You asshole,” she said harshly.

The tall, tan pilot grins at her and releases his grasp on her elbow. “I’ll be waiting,” he said looking her directly in the eyes.

Melissa steps around him and makes her way back to the shelter. Julian is still unconscious; however, as she bathes his face in the icy water, he opens his eyes and peers at her, pain contorts his face. He groans.

“Oh, my poor Darling,” she whispers, leaning to kiss him on the cheek. “I’m doing all I can to make it better.”

Even as she said it, she knows it’s not true. There’s a thing she has not done and in an instant she finally makes her decision.

According to the plan of action outlined to them by TJ, soon after the crash, it is her turn to prepare the noon meal beginning at 11:30. She goes about her duties, using the food TJ rationed; additionally, there’s a fat squirrel TJ killed and gutted. He gives it to her with instructions to make a stew of it. She obeys him; his will has been imposed upon them all in matters of their survival.

*****

She reflects on the fast pace of events. Before the crash, Ben Smith, Julian’s boss in the law firm of Smith, Sachs and Newman, had been in command of everything, having organized their entire trip to consult with a client over oil exploration rights. After the plane had crunched into the glade where they’re now trapped, Julian’s boss Ben seems to have come apart at the seams. His orders are uncertain, his decisions unsound, and on the second day after the crash, TJ had asserted his authority over them, deposing the older man from his position of leadership. Ben, when he realized what had happened, his role usurped, verbally castigated TJ, making ludicrous threats concerning the legal mess facing the pilot for getting them into this mess. TJ listened, however, brought the rant to an end when the older man starts repeating himself.

“Mr. Smith, I realize you’re the big wheel in your law firm,” TJ said. “But out here, you’re law degree and fancy title doesn’t mean shit. If we’re to survive this, I’m in charge. So you keep your fucking opinions to yourself from now on, and do as I say.”

Ben reacts; his fist comes sizzling from nowhere. A roundhouse blow telegraphing itself to TJ who stands ready. The pilot side steps the attack and counters with a quick jab. Ben slumps to the ground, his eyes glazing over.

“Leave him alone,” Claire shouts going to her husband’s side.

Ben’s not unconscious and he shakes his head to clear his vision. “You asshole,” he groans, a small rivulet of blood coming from the corner of his mouth.

The lawyer rubs his jaw. The pilot stands over the fallen man.

“Mr. Smith, I’m sorry I had to do that, however, you gave me no choice,” he said coldly. “Now, get this straight, I’m the boss here, not you—SAY IT.”

There’s an awkward silence.

Eventually, Ben said, “You’re the boss.”

“You asshole,” Claire hisses at TJ.

“If you do what I say, lady, we might get outta here alive, remember that.”

Claire helps her husband to his feet and leads him away, unresisting, to the stream, where she attends to the superficial wound. They’re gone a long time; Claire talks, and Ben listens morosely. When they return, Ben apologizes to TJ for trying to hit him.

TJ organized the camp, taking charge of food, medicine, and arms, directing the erection of shelters, the laying of signal fires, setting sky-watch schedules, and detailing the work to accomplish these things. Order emerges from the general chaos, and the morale of the group noticeably improves.

*****

The noon meal is soon prepared. TJ eats, sparingly, silently, remarking politely on the tastiness of the food. He takes a pistol and moves off the stream to relieve Ben and Claire who are on sky-watch at the top of the ridge. Melissa watches him stride away, his lithe, animalistic grace carrying him rapidly out of sight. Grudgingly, she has to admit to herself he’s an attractive, virile man, visceral in the extreme, confident of his ability and seemingly unafraid of anything. In a few moments, Ben and Claire Smith come from the ridge to eat. Melissa greets them and serves them the simple fare. Claire is bubbly and talkative; Ben is still glum and withdrawn.

“You won’t believe what happened this morning,” Claire said, hardly able to contain herself. “We heard a large animal snorting and moving around in the woods, then, when we were coming back we see this big paw print. I think it’s a Grizzly Bear.”

“You’re assuming it’s a Grizzly,” Ben said grumpily. It might’ve been a black bear.”

“Well, it was an awfully big paw print.”

Melissa shudders. “Shit, the last thing we need is fucking bears bothering us,” she said.

“Only Claire would get excited by the prospect of being attacked by bears,” Ben said rolling his eyes.

Claire glances at her husband with a pinched expression. Then to Melissa, she asks, “How long do you think it’ll take for them to find us out here?”

“I don’t know,” Melissa said with a shrug. “Let’s pray TJ knows what he’s doing.”

“That asshole isn’t going to get us out of here,” Ben said in a low voice. “We’re better off trying to walk out.”

“OK, Mr. Know-it-all,” Claire said with jerky head movements. “What direction do we go and how far?”

“Ah—”

“What about poor Julian, how’s he gonna walk?” Claire asks pointedly. “We’re better off staying here with the plane, not walking in circles lost in the wilderness.”

The older woman suddenly leaves the cooking fire and goes to their lean-to shelter. Ben soon wanders off to gather more firewood, a small ax in his hand. Melissa cleans the dishes and cooking utensils at the stream and returns to Julian carrying a bowl of broth. She finds him awake and lucid. Helping him to a sitting position, she oversees his meal and makes him comfortable. Julian is still experiencing a great deal of pain, complaining of terrific pounding pains in his head. He questions her concerning the seriousness of their situation.

“What does TJ think?” he asks.

“We should stay here and wait for the search planes,” she said.

“Ben?”

“He thinks we should try to walk out.”

“Claire?”

“She agrees with TJ.”

“And, what do you think, Mel?”

“You’re too sick to walk, so we stay,” she said softly.

“Yeah, I’d slow the rest of you if we tried getting out on foot,” he said, his eyes welling with tears.

Suddenly, Julian clutches at his head and groans loudly. He lay back on the sleeping bag, his eyes closing, as continuous moans come from his lips.

“Oh, Julian, Julian, Darling,” she shouts and sobs though feeling suddenly difficult to breathe.

He’s soon asleep, or unconscious. She watches him, closely, for several minutes. Knowing she can do nothing more for him, she creeps from the shelter, making sure her husband is comfortable and moves to the stream to follow it toward the ridge where TJ waits for her.

*****

Melissa finds the pilot on a blanket, lazily watching her approach. She hadn’t been on the ridge before; there’s a truly breathtaking view of the surrounding mountains. She gazes around, enthralled by the majestic beauty of the Canadian Rockies in every direction.

“WOW,” she said, still gasping for breath from the steep climb.

“Yes,” he said, “it’s wilderness in all its rugged glory.”

“Dangerous, too,” she said. “Claire said she saw a bear’s paw print near camp.”

“I saw them, too,” he said. “There are all kinds of predators in this wilderness, bears are just one.”

“Oh, I-I never really thought about that,” she said, her face going pallid.

“Don’t worry, most wild animals avoid humans,” he said. “They won’t bother you if you leave them alone.”

She sits on a nearby fallen log and doesn’t look at him; her gaze is focused on the jumble of ridges, marching off into the north in varying shades of blue, forested and rock-strewn a virgin wilderness. The sound of a chopping ax comes to them in the distance, below, beyond the small natural meadow where the ruined airplane rests. She decides it has to be Ben making the sound. The ax-blows stop and the great silence beat upon her.

“Mr. Lloyd, I-I didn’t come here t-to make a deal,” she said wrapping her arms around herself. “I came to ask you to feel compassion for another human and allow Julian to have those tablets.” She turns and stares at the man with tear filled eyes. “Julian needs them, and please, don’t ask me to do something immoral for them. I just can’t do it.”

“Why?” TJ asks quietly.

“I’m a married woman and I take my vows seriously.”

“If we’d not crashed, and we were safe in camp, would you have gone to bed with your husband’s boss?”

“Nooooo,” she said shaking her head. “Not every man is so sleazy, Mr. Lloyd.”

“Weird, I-ah-overheard big shoots lawyer Ben had ideas along that line,” he said with a shrug.

“You must’ve heard wrong—misconstrued something?”

The pilot smirks at her. “My hearing’s pretty good and I ain’t stupid either.”

“Who was he talking to then?”

“Your husband,” he said.

“Julian?”

TJ nods.

She gasps loudly. “Why would Julian be a party to something so—”

Melissa is overcome; she can’t go on. Her tears scald her eyes and she turns her head away from the insolent man. Remembering her wedding vows, she decides to not allow this man to manipulate her. TJ raises himself to an elbow and goes on talking to the haughty, unbowed back she presents him.

“Promotion, maybe? A pay rise? A chance to fuck Smith’s wife in return?” he shouts at her. “You know she’s quite a hot woman too.”

“No, it can’t be,” she said softly. “He’s already been offered a promotion and a raise, and, Julian isn’t like that. Why would he want another woman?”

“I don’t know, I’m sure you can answer that for yourself,” he said. “Are you good to him in bed? If not, he might be looking for something better. Think it over.”

“Regardless of what you say,” she said coldly, “forcing me to have sex with you in exchange for the pain pills is morally bankrupt.”

“I told you before, Melissa, it’s simple,” he said lightly. “I love sex. It’s a basic and elemental drive, and I want to fuck you because you make my cock ache.”

“Even though I’m married?”

“It really makes no difference to me.”

“And Claire Smith? Is she next on your list of conquests?”

“No you are,” he said evenly. “I’ve already fucked her.”

She gasps. “Omigod, what conceit,” she said eyes bulging. “You’re so arrogant, bragging about as if it’s nothing.”

He shrugs. “I’m merely stating a fact,” the pilot said.

“You really think I’m gonna be next, don’t you?”

“The fact you’re here says so,” TJ said with a smirk.

Suddenly, Melissa feels trapped. She knows she made a mistake in coming to the ridge to reason with TJ; he has no plan to show her husband mercy. He still has only a goal to force her to fuck him. Then, it comes to her; the realization she’s alone with him makes her panic. He’s a strong man, and it’s possible he could rape her here and now. Blindly, she jumps to her feet and plunges into the heavily wooded hillside, downward toward the meadow, the stream, other people, and safety.

He catches her within ten yards. His arms are around her, holding her tight to him until she ceases struggling, and he kisses her hard with brutal lips, his tongue bursting into her mouth to taste and savor.

When he finally takes his mouth away, she said, “P-Please d-don’t make me do it.”

However, in spite of her revulsion and fear, her nipples tingle where they had pressed against his muscular chest. Melissa feels the hard bulge in his loins still pushing into her as he holds her close. His kiss had been long and sensuous; its warmth spreading in her nerve ends. She relaxes and leans her head against his chest.

“It’s only on the basis I suggested, none other,” he said softly.

“And you’ll give me the pills for Julian?”

“Of course, I always keep my word.”

“No one will ever know about it, you won’t tell?”

“Nobody will know,” TJ said, “no one except you and me.”

“Why d-did you tell me about Claire?” she asks.

“I was just teasing you.”

“What about what you said you heard Ben and Julian say was that true?”

“Every word of it,” he said evenly.

She turns in his arms to face the hill back to the ridge, closer to the sky and where she’ll exchange her cunt for pain pills for Julian, who for whatever reason has bargained away her body even before they began this trip.

“L-Let’s go back to the ridge,” she whispers.

The pilot puts his arm around her waist and helps her up the steep slope. They regain the ridge, quickly, and Melissa goes directly to the spread blanket and sits, gasping for breath.

“Oh, it’s soft,” she said.

“I put pine needles under it,” TJ said. “I’m always prepared.”

“You’re so arrogant.”

“I get results.”

Kneeling on the blanket beside her, he reaches for the top button of her blouse and dexterously unbuttons it. Involuntarily, she shrinks away from him with a catch in her throat.

“N-No, please, not yet,” she said and sighs. “Let me have some time to get used to the idea.”

TJ pushes her firmly, gently back until she lies prone on the blanket. He follows, lying on his side, However, his upper body is twisted over her, as he lowers his head to capture her lips, again. He probes her mouth with his tongue, then directs the tip to the sensitive inner side of her lips. Not realizing what she’s doing, Melissa kisses him back, her tongue, tentatively flicking to touch his lips, finally snaking out to insinuate itself between his teeth and into his mouth. Those warm, tingling sensations are racing in her again, and instinctively her body reacts to his teasing touches.

His hands explore her body, moving along her ribs to her waist, to the outside of her white tapering thigh, to the inside of her thigh, and the V of her legs where he rubs and massages her warm pulsating slit through the material of her shorts. Then his hand moves beneath her blouse, across her flat stomach to her breasts and he kneads them through the material of her bra.

With urgent determination, now, he removes his hand from beneath her blouse and unbuttons the remaining buttons. She shrugs and moves, sitting up to allow him access to the hooks of her bra, again taking and folding meticulously, as the coolness of the air flowed over the satin-smooth hemispheres of her milky-white breasts. The coral tipped nipples standing out firm from her areolas of darker, deep-hued coralline. Instantly, TJ captures a nipple in his mouth, sucking the entire aureole to tease and lave with his tongue, while his hands smooth over the surface. Massaging and digging with his fingers, the smooth textures of them like fine silk beneath his sensuous fingers. Likewise, after a few moments, its twin received similar attention, however, now he nips lightly with a chewing motion with his teeth. Eventually, he stretches and pulls the nipple out, and side to side.

The sensations generated in her breasts spread warmly through her, the electric, tingling sensations growing by the moment chasing each other in waves of delicious, melding sensuality. Giving herself to this man is too much for her, the reasons clear in her mind moments ago. Now, the feelings are getting out of hand. She had been thinking of a quick, short sexual encounter of pure physicality, unemotional and mechanical. Yet she can’t help herself, sex isn’t mechanical for a woman, it’s always emotional.

Ooh, I can’t let this happen, she thought, but his mouth on my breasts feels so good. I’m doing this for Julian, remember that, I can’t enjoy it. Please, I can’t enjoy it.

Melissa emits a moan of anguish as his lips on her nipples form a tight circle, and he blows hot breath rhythmically, the erect tissue of the nipple moving in and out of his mouth, almost like a tiny phallus. The feeling is excruciatingly sensitive and unbearably pleasurable. Suddenly, her passion sparks within her igniting a flame of desire she has only felt for her husband. The searing tendrils of lust consuming her loins and she becomes aware of warm moistness between the inner, tightly closes petals of her cunt. She clamps her legs together to deny the sensations to herself, yet against her will, her hips undulate. The muscles of her pelvis pulsate, moving to the ancient remembered beat of primitiveness and her heart drums with savage accompaniment.

Throwing his top leg over her, he now lies partially on top of her as his mouth pays homage to the magnificence of her ivory, blue-veined breasts. The translucent skin aglow with tiny droplets of perspiration and the first beginnings of a gentle reddening flush spreading with a soft, effulgent luster over the satin film of her skin. He feels the gentle movement in her loins, and he knows it’s time to remove her shorts and panties. He has waited long enough for this. His cock throbs with desire, pushing against the confining garments, the tight crotch of his jeans painful, allowing no room for the expanding hardness of his erection.

His hand reaches for the zipper of her shorts, his fingers unhook the waistband and grasping the zipper, he pulls it over the swell of her hip. The metallic whisper of her fly opening is loud in primeval wilderness. Subconsciously, she helps him, raising her hips, wriggling and turning as he tugs them over her thighs to her knees; then, she struggles to sit. He allows her to do it, removing his mouth from her breasts reluctantly and rolling to his back. He watches as she plucks the shorts from around her ankles and folds them, adding them to the neat pile of her other clothing.

Standing to his feet, TJ rapidly strips his clothes, shirt and undershirt dropping to the ground, kicking off his shoes, unbuckling, unzipping, his jeans joined the growing pile and he stands in only his boxers. TJ’s pulsating erection is jutting hard and long beneath the blue, silky boxers. With a final smooth action, he strips his boxers too, liberating his hardened, thick length to her awe-stricken gaze. Her involuntary gasp of surprise, the mixed look of fear and wonder on her face draws a grin and a chuckle from him. She stares, startled, at his face, then, tearing her eyes away from the manly spectacle below. Melissa had no idea a man’s cock could possibly attain these proportions, and she’s confused by his sadistic laugh. He kneels before her, places his hands on her shoulders and pushes her gently back prone upon the blanket.

“Haven’t you ever seen a man’s cock before?” TJ asks and laughs coldly.

“I’ve seen a few,” she said, “but that’s the biggest one, by far.”

Omigod, what am I doing, she wonders in a panic. Am I about to let TJ ruin my pussy with that thing? Did Julian really have some kind of arrangement allowing Ben to have sex with me on this trip? I can’t believe it. I only have TJ’s word for it, don’t I? TJ knew I’d get angry with Julian and do something hasty like agreeing to this, but Julian needs those pills.

She feels his hands sliding along the outside of her thighs, over the full swell of her hips to the elastic waistband of her panties. With a smooth tug, he has pulled them to her knees exposing the soft pubic hair of her genitals. She feels the cool air rush over her making her even more aware of her public nudity, and the nakedness of her loins before the eyes of this man who isn’t her husband brings a flush of shame to her cheeks. Instinctively, she reaches her hand to retrieve the wisp of nylon that had protected her chastity. Too late she feels them over her calves, her ankles, and clearing her feet. TJ tosses them aside carelessly and she finds herself pinned to the blanket, unable to move beneath the great weight of his body.

“No, no, I’ve changed my mind,” she shouts. “I won’t do it. I can’t—”

Her desperate disavowal cut off in her throat as his mouth comes down hard on her lips, his kiss brutally sweet and sensual. He probes with his tongue, until she involuntarily moves forward to collide with him, eventually bursting through to taste him. Her tongue moves tentatively, investigating his oral cavity. He sucks and nibbles on her agile tongue, the passion within her grows again to ignite a roaring furnace in her pussy. She mewls and gurgles in her throat as he sucks her lower lip, nibbling on it gently with his teeth. The stimulated nerves are sending their sensitive and sensuous messages throughout her aroused body to concentrate on her throbbing clit.

Then, TJ is moving, slithering over her body until his head is just above her pubic mound, his hands stretches above him, almost at arm’s length, and his fingers clutch and squeeze at her erect breasts, massaging them, kneading them with ferocity making her whine. His lips trail over her body, wetly, kissing her flat, white belly, his tongue dipping into her navel, teasingly until his face brushes against the softly curled hair of the triangle at the juncture of her thighs. Belatedly, she realizes his intentions, the thought of it repugnant to her.

I won’t let him do this to me, she thought, I can’t do this.

Suddenly, there’s a flash of movement above her squirming body and the familiar sounding roar of big cat.

“NOOOO,” TJ shouts raising his arm to shield himself and making Melissa’s eyes bulge.

*****

The weight of the man, so recently pressing against her lithe, sweaty, aroused body is gone in an instant leaving a cool wind to wash over her and making her goose bumps rise. Coming over the edge of the ridge is another lithe figure, sleek, almost shining, and licking its lips. She tries to scream, yet nothing comes from her throat, and she’s paralyzed with fear.

The lithe shape is a mountain lion.

The tawny animal stands between her spread legs, his great head lowers to lap with his long fleshy tongue at her steaming cunt. She’s frozen to the spot, the fear in her too great.

This is my punishment for cheating on Julian, she thought, fearing her death is imminent. Now, she hears the purr, as a great motor inside the huge cat. She recognizes it as feline contentment, and a glimmer of hope washes through her. Purring, she thought, he’s not going to attack me. Maybe if I lie quietly and don’t do anything to upset him, he’ll go away?

Melissa tries to close her thighs, however, the huge tawny cat stares at her with baleful pink eyes and growls a warning. She freezes.

As the great head drops to her loins and begins greedily to lap at the narrow, pink furrow between her thighs, she sees a leather collar encircles the beast’s neck. This gives her yet another ray of hope. Is this huge wild animal a pet? Does he belong to someone an animal farm circus zoo? Her mind speeds over the possibilities, while her body lies petrified with fear and a growing sexual excitation she can’t control. Then, she sees a silver plaque attached to the broad leather band, a name engraved there. She focuses on it, willing her eyes to read it and makes out under the grime the name ‘Dexter’.

“Dexter,” she said, her voice trembles timidly, “Dexter? Is your name Dexter?”

The cougar lifts his head and peers at her differently now, there’s intelligence in his eyes. His name spoken and he leaves her loins, his head soon over her face. The great tongue comes from between those teeth capable of crushing a thighbone and licks her face.

“That’s your name isn’t it, Dexter?”

Her answer is a louder purr followed by a huffing, subdued roar deep in the animal’s throat. Melissa’s eyes glance downward and she sees the big cat is a male. With frightened eyes, she peers along the length of his belly. The feline is big; his body is longer and probably heavier than men. Suddenly, a bizarre thought flashes through her mind. She wants to reject it as it’s an impossible idea, yet, it’s searing her brain. Is it possible Dexter wants to fuck me, she wonders? I must be losing my mind to even think such a thing. Where’s TJ now? Is he hurt? Did the cougar kill him?

The mountain lion backs away until his head is over the softly curling golden mound at the juncture of her thighs. She clamps her legs tightly together, the real fear of a different sort pounding through her. The big cat lowers his head to her genitals, again; his tongue snakes out, however, he can’t wedge it between her tightly pressed thighs. He growls, again, louder this time, and his nose goes beneath her legs at the knee and lifts them to expose the glistening, pink flesh of her cunt. The animal crouches there, his head beneath her legs, and his tongue runs wetly along the length of her pussy slit, from the tightly puckered anus over the fluted pink edges of the inner lips onto the tiny clit in its hidden crevice between the fleshy, hair-lined larger lips of her femaleness. The thick, rough tongue lashes the softness of her pussy as if a knife through butter.

Against her will, her thighs spread and she raises her legs some more, bringing them back toward her belly in the classic position of sexual intercourse. Again, the feeling of helplessness comes over her. There’s nothing she can do to stop the animal’s ravishment of her loins. The vision of what those horrible jaws are capable of doing holds her in a morass of fear. She can’t bring herself to move to run away as she knows the giant sheathed claws in his forepaws can stop her before she runs a few steps.

The cat’s long tongue is working in her with agility, slaving, relentlessly between her now wide spread legs, pausing occasionally to slide deep into the warm, moist walls of her vaginal passage. The sexual arousal is building in her again, far beyond her ability to control it. She spasms, jerking convulsively as she squirms beneath the tongue of the giant cat lapping and snuffing at the raw center of nerves between her open thighs.

Shit, if he keeps licking me like this I’m gonna cum, she thought. What if he wants to fuck me, it’s insane.

Ecstasy builds in her loins, and she can’t help it. The sheer torture of the erotic sensations racing within her she knows are lewd and wrong, produced by the licking tongue of a wild animal. The sensations are crowding all moral and common sense from her mind, and somehow, in spite of her revulsion, she perversely wants it to continue.

For she’s no longer frightened of the cougar, and she doesn’t care anymore. She doesn’t care for her safety, and her morals mean nothing now. Melissa is sinking to the lowest depths of degradation. Soft, gurgling mewls of delight come from her as she can’t contain it anymore. She has to have it. Suddenly, she’s aware her hands are grasping the ears of the cougar, and with a deep groan emanating from deep in her chest, almost animal-like in its intensity, she flattens her thighs against her breasts, spreading them wider and tilting her pelvis to the searing cat tongue lavishing the furrow of her soft, palpitating cunt.

She pulls the great head in tight to her pussy, and the long, hot tongue ravishes her moist, pink channel, licking her up thrust crotch without mercy. Her hips squirm to the big cat’s mouth, demandingly. Now, as from a great distance, through the ringing in her ears, she hears her voice, babbling crazily to the mountain lion, pleading with it, encouraging it, and wanting it.

“Oh, fuck, Dexter,” she moans loudly. “Lick me—Taste me—Eat me.”

Melissa can’t believe she even said it, however, the huge cat keeps working her pussy like the vicious wild animal he is. His primeval lust motivating him, Dexter is entranced by her voice and redoubles his efforts. She screams with the wild rapture of her wildly orgasming cunt.

“FUUUUUUUUUUUCK—YEEEEEEEEEAHS,” she screams as her body flushes red then convulses in rapturous, orgasmic bliss.

As her orgasm abates, the cougar raises his head and goes to her side. With his nose beneath the small of her back, he rolls her onto her stomach. Melissa is powerless to resist, as she feels the powerful muscles of his neck push her easily. She’s at the big cat’s mercy. The panting beast standing above her enslaves Melissa. The cat’s great head lowers to her smooth, white buttocks and the great tongue slithers into the exposed crevice between them, as she lies beneath him. Her hands spread the cheeks of her softly quivering buttocks to the lashing, curling tongue, and she pushes back toward the beast.

The mountain lion’s head nuzzles beneath Melissa’s lust paralyzed crotch, between her pelvis and the spread towel, lifting her buttocks into the air, and she kneels obediently bending animal-like to take the huge cat into her, for she knows now the intelligent cougar has placed her in this position for only one purpose. The blazing realization hits her with meteoric force.

Shit, he wants to fuck me, she thought. It’s monstrous, I can’t, Omigod, I can’t. It’s wrong, it’s bestiality. All I wanted was medicine for Julian. How did this happen?

Melissa rises onto all fours, then to her knees as she’s going to get to her feet and run.

There’s a short, coughing, warning growl, again. She poises herself to spring to her feet, then she’s feeling a stinging blow on her shoulders knocking her sprawling to the ground. Dimly, she’s aware the big cat struck her with an unsheathed paw, nothing more than a cuff, yet it knocks the wind from her. The big cat stands over her and growls twice more, and she realizes there’s no escape.

Again, the great, tawny head goes beneath her pelvis and raises her to all fours, the tongue licking at her, hungrily, as soon as she is in position. The need for sexual release drives her hips in uncontrollable gyrations back against the animal tongue licking her into submission. Suddenly, the mountain lion stops licking at her pussy, rears on his hind feet, his paws wrapping around her waist just as though she’s a female cougar, the hard, long and glistening cock is released from its hairy sheath, the tip of it searching to find the soft, pink portal of her pulsating cunt.

Oh, no, no, it’s really gonna happen, she thought wildly.

The animal’s sleek, hard cock misses and comes against the tiny defenseless hole of her anus. Melissa cries out with pain and fright. She knows then, what she must do. Reaching between her legs, she grasps the slippery, glistening, wet animal cock and guides it to her cuntal lips, the big cat waiting patiently until it’s properly aligned.

Then, he rams it into her soft, pink passage with great force.

The great shaft goes all the way to the hilt, his furry animal balls slapping tight against her pubic mound. The cougar thrusts into her with a force she had never known from a man, fucking her with the feral energy of a wild animal. It doesn’t take long before she’s a with him and she wants the fucking to never end. Melissa reaches back with her hand, a finger searching for the rubbery ring of puckered flesh and slowly inserts her finger into her ass, worming it in until it’s buried to the palm of her hand. Then with insane delight, she moves her ass engorged finger in rhythm to the pounding animal cock smashing into her cunt with unrelenting force.

“Oh, God, fuck me, Dexter, fuck me,” she moans. “Make me cum.”

The aroused woman babbles as if the brutish cat might understand her wild pleas for fulfillment. She pants, weeps, and moans, as she pummels her finger into her asshole and spreads her legs wider to absorb the monstrous cat’s cock fucking into her. She clenches her teeth, tears stream from her eyes and she moans repeatedly, her buttocks moving against the fucking animal in counterpoint to his rutting attack on her.

Then, she feels it coming to her. Frantically, she fucks back, wanting it, needing it, her hips undulating wildly, and she’s on the brink. Her eyes glaze, her mouth hangs open, her body craving that final release. Convulsively, her orgasm begins, her body jerking and bucking beneath the plunging mountain lion. She screamed, suddenly, insanely, and she cums.

“Aaaaaagh—Ooooooo—Faaaaaaaark,” she screams.

Melissa wants to collapse, yet the big cat thrusts into her for several more strokes, before she finally feels the spewing semen pump wildly from him. The pungent cat odor fills the air. Eventually, Melissa slumps, sprawling to her stomach, spent and satiated. She’s been dominated and fucked into submission by the giant cat that still crouches over her. The scene is wonderful and horrible simultaneously and her body tingles with the exhilaration of it. Her brain wrestles with rights and wrongs. The cat is still there, and she doesn’t know what to do. Should she try to move to go see if TJ is OK? She lies still, trying to get her breathing controlled.

The cougar lies beside her and starts licking his shrinking cock, and feeling braver, she tentatively runs her hand over his silk fur on his back. The cougar purrs with approval and she strokes the animal some more feeling herself relax. So many questions run through her mind. How a collared animal, a pet cougar, is way out here in the Canadian Rockies she can’t explain. Did it escape, or did its owner release the Cougar into the wild for some reason? Maybe the owner of the animal is close by. Slowly she sits, and seeing the big cat isn’t showing much interest in her anymore she gets to her feet and starts to put her clothes on.

After she’s dressed, Melissa goes to the edge of the ridge and stares down the steep slope to see TJ lying near the bottom naked and unconscious.

“Oh shit, I hope he isn’t dead,” she said to herself as she grabs the man’s clothes and slowly moves down the slope toward him lying on his back. When she reaches him, she crouches and feels for a pulse in his neck, then pulls away when she hears him sigh. “TJ? TJ!” she shouts, shaking him gently. The muscular man opens his eyes, staring at her blankly. “Oh, thank God,” she said.

Looking at his body, she can see scratches leaving no doubt an animal attacked him. He touches the area gingerly and grimaces.

“Jesus, that fucking cat came out of nowhere,” he said.

“Can you get up?”

He nods. “I think so, nothing feels broken.” With her help and few groans, he sits up and she helps him to his feet. “What happened to the cougar?” he asks her.

“I don’t know,” she lied. “I ran away when he attacked you and circled back.”

“Too bad, I was looking forward to us fucking,” he said with a smirk as he did his jeans up. “I guess hubby doesn’t get the medicine after all.”

“You asshole,” she said. “It wasn’t my fault a wild animal intervened.”

Suddenly, TJ shouts, “LOOK OUT!”

Melissa turns to see the big cat moving silently down the slope toward them, then feels TJ’s movements and realizes he has taken the pistol from the holster on his belt.

As he points the weapon at Dexter, Melissa shouts, “NOOOOOOOOOO!”

TJ fires the gun as Melissa lunges at him.

To Be Continued…

xxx-fiction-story-disclaimer3

 

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