u/cherricheeksxo

After 6 long hours on the road and hundreds of miles stretching out between me and everything I’d ever known, the sight of a rundown, wooden “Vacancy” sign had never been such a welcome reprieve. The rhythm of travelling alone was easy enough to slip into: wake up and pack up camp, have a protein bar for breakfast, stop at the nearest coffee destination, and hit the road again to head west. When you don’t have to consider anyone else’s needs, and when you are in no place for longer than 2 nights, you start to develop a sort of gravity that is difficult to explain. It’s as though you become your own planet, a secular entity in the world. This intense secularity was pressing down on me when I glided off the two-lane highway and onto the bumpy forest road, as was my overly full bladder. Thick trees lined each side of the narrow, winding road, their branches forming a blanket of canopy overhead, and the motel was nowhere to be seen. It couldn’t have been more than 2 kilometres off the highway, but it felt as though I was plunged into another time, as if old-time frontiers with shotguns might come charging out of the forest had I not been shielded by the safety of my beat-up little car.

The motel itself was nothing to write home about. Everything about it seemed standard, from the two-story rectangular shape to the outdoor balconies and weathered outdoor stairs. I could have been anywhere in the city, parking my car and swinging my backpack over my shoulder as I walked up to the front reception, except that we were entirely isolated in the middle of the Canadian Shield. The sun beat hot against my shoulders, my backpack strap agitating the bare skin not covered by my tank top, and my loose fabric pj shorts picked up ever so slightly in the onslaught of freezing cold air conditioning as I entered the office. I felt the chill slam into my body, sending a shiver down my spine and causing my nipples to harden under the thin fabric of my top.

And the next thing I knew, there he was.

Men had always been a curious creature to me - particularly in my solo adventures. Often times it was hard to read what their true intentions were. You would think that fathers of three with a wife back home would refrain from hitting on you in public; instead, they invited me to shower with them. By and large I had avoided most interactions with men up until this point, favouring spending time by the campfire with my nose buried in my journal. This was not a man that you could avoid, even if you tried.

If he hadn’t been towering over me by a good few inches, then I would have noticed his eyes first. His soft hazel gaze was intent, intense, and entirely all-consuming. His facial features were defined by a large, shapely nose and a well-trimmed beard that framed a sharp jawline. High cheekbones bled into his sideburns and were met by the waves and curls of his hair, not unlike the way that the ocean meets the shoreline. In the few milliseconds before either of us spoke, the room felt like it expanded to be my entire universe and was extinguished into nothing by a single gasp of air. To put it plainly, I felt butterflies ignite in my stomach and flutter all the way down to my pussy. I was a woman brought to life.

The first five minutes of our encounter were entirely autopilot as my system rebooted from the vagina up. I swear it felt like my entire brain matter went out the window. How helpless I had been made to feel in mere seconds. How curious that it was happening now. I knew how it felt to have a crush; my teenage years and early twenties had been full of them. Loud, boisterous girls on the soccer team, nerdy boys that could barely speak without blushing, handsome men that learned to give gifts instead of emotional affection, and women that spent their lives creating—I had crushed on them, been crushed, and crushed some of them myself.

But this was different. His fingertips grazed my palm as he handed me the keys to my room, and it felt as if I had reached down and grabbed a live wire. As though every nerve in my body turned to face the source of the touch, like bells were ringing in my head. One more touch and I may come unravelled like a poorly knit sweater. One more moment here and I may not remember my own name. Sweat and arousal ebbed out of my body, covering me in a light, slippery layer of soon-to-be sin. I wondered if he could smell it on me as I thanked him and turned to head back to my car.

“I must let you know, I love whatever perfume you’re wearing,” He said, just as my hand touched the cool metal door. Had he read my mind? I blushed. Humility chopped at my throat with a hatchet as I let out a little laugh.

“It must be eau de my tent; I’ve been showering in the lake for the past little bit.” I confessed, allowing my lack of hygiene to be a little joke between us.

“That must be why I like it.” He replied, a statement so matter-of-fact I reeled from the simplicity of his admittance, followed by another peculiar admission of his. “I’m more feral than most.”

A beat. A heavy one. Feral. What a word to use. I could’ve sworn I heard a wolf howling outside in the silence. I left between us to consider his words. I could’ve sworn the ground opened up and swallowed me whole. Neither happened; I remained frozen. Feral, of course he was. And there I was, heart beating and captured by his gaze. The perfect little prey animal. Finally, I met his eyes.

“Do you like to go hunting?” I asked, the words tumbling out of my mouth before I could stop them. Every single syllable landed at my feet like empty shotgun shell casings. My implication was heavy in the air. I played with the bright red spaghetti strap that I had left unburdened by my backpack. Our eye contact hadn’t broken yet, though the urge to lower my gaze pulsed through me with every breath.

“Depends on what’s in season,” He said, and a smile finally carved his face open. His teeth were sharply uniform and white; only one of his incisors defied the natural order of his mouth to jut out slightly askew. I hadn’t realized that he hadn’t smiled at me before. Or maybe he had, but not like this. Not in a way that felt as though I could lodge the entirety of my being in his mouth and he wouldn’t even choke when he swallowed me whole.

“I do love hunting a good doe.”

“Looks like a good spot for it,” I replied before I finally pushed open the office door. It felt like a confession. I wondered if it lingered behind me as I walked to my room. The afternoon sun was just as blistering as it had been when I arrived, and my internal fire was burning even hotter. I needed a cold shower, to stretch my legs, and some porn, though not necessarily in that order.
I couldn’t tell you what the room looked like other than “rustic yellow," and honestly, I did not care. As soon as the door shut behind me, the A/C unit whirred to life with a bang of protest. I swung my backpack onto the queen-sized bed and watched it settle with a bounce. My body crashed into the matress next, bouncing with a resigned thud as the ceiling came into focus above me. Sex was the only thing on my mind.

When was the last time I had been ravaged? It was as though his gaze recreated the feeling of every single hand that had ever been laid on me. I thought back to the night in Spain years ago when I met the captain of a charter yacht and let him guide me back to his paradise. He was the definition of a man possessed and spent the entire night exploring my topography with his hands and mouth. My thoughts drifted to the woman in Montreal that had never eaten pussy before and was dying to try it and how warm her insistent little fingers felt inside me.

My own fingers were working now as I thought about her. I slid them ever so slightly into my elastic waistband, feeling the wisps of my pubic hair say hello to my fingertips. I caressed the hair, twisting a few in between my fingers before letting them move further down. Even though arousal had been coursing through my body from the moment I walked into the office, I was surprised at how wet I was. I had to peel away my soaked shorts from my pussy, feeling instantly the loss of warmth and pressure. Undettered and even more aroused at my own bodily response, I moved my fingers in soft rhymic motions around my clit. My mind fluttered through my favourite experiences: the sailor, the French lady, the most toxic man I had ever slept with, and my best friend from college. And then, his eyes.

It felt as though he almost snuck up on me, though he had been the cause of my arousal in its entirety. Once he entered my thoughts, it was all I could think of - what his eyes would look like staring down from on top of me, what his beard would look like covered in my pussy juice, and what the faint patch of hair I could barely see above his t-shirt collar would look like across his torso. I thought about kissing from his waistband to his collarbone, and I came undone. The orgasm was abrupt, a fluttering buildup of muscles and a throbbing release that escaped my body, accompanied only by a gasp. It was nothing compared to the noises my best friend used to pull from my body, but it was an orgasm nonetheless.

I needed a cigarette. And a shower. And to stretch my legs. I needed to stop thinking about him, especially considering I didn’t even know his name. I heaved my body out of the bed, my feet falling heavily on the metal grated stairs as I trudged towards the firepits at the back of the building. As the paved cement sidewalk gave way to a trodden-down dirt road, my thoughts had started to regulate, returning to the mundanity of my life. In ten days I was expected to be home again, attending my best friend's (yes, that one’s) wedding in the small town we grew up in.

I collapsed onto the ground at the foot of the furthest bright red Muskoka chair I could find, immediately kicking off my flip flops and letting them fall in a haphazard pile to the side. My cigarette pack had soft edges from existing mostly in my pocket, and a few of the cigarettes were warped like witches' fingers. I plucked the ugliest one and put it between my lips, the action of parting them bringing about another wave of horniness. I hoped there would be someone worth fucking at the reception, but I knew I would be disappointed. If I had liked the options at home, I would’ve stayed there.

My cigarette burned away as I let my head fall back against the Muskoka chair and turned my face towards the sun streams breaking through the leaves above me. My eyes closed, and I let my body feel the earth around me - the swaying blades of grass between my toes, the ants crawling over my chipped pedicure, and the whispers of trees as their leaves chatted and danced in the breeze. Heaven.

I felt him before I opened my eyes. It was like someone reached inside me with their hand and squeezed my lower abdomen. Fear and arousal feel the same when your eyes are closed. Mine shot open, and there he was, standing still as a statue not twenty feet away from me. His jeans were dirty, something I hadn’t noticed when he was behind the desk. Faded patches of blue decorated his knees; flecks of brown dirt graduated up from his ankles. His shirt moved ever so slightly in the breeze. His eyes never left me.

I stood up slowly, never once looking away from him. My body felt tense and alive. My heart pounded in my ears. It’s a peculiar thing - reading someone’s intentions and trying to intuit where their true desires lay. I wanted him and he knew that. He had known from the moment we laid eyes on each other - I am not a subtle woman. Perhaps in another life I would have been scared. Perhaps I should have been more scared than I was. But I was mostly scared of what I wanted not being understood, of the rejection of the fantasy that had been building since I first walked into the office. I wanted to be hunted; I wanted him to need me so desperately his animal instincts kicked in and decimated my personhood. I wanted to be his prey, his favourite meal, to fuel the predator drive in him.

“Are you in the mood to go hunting?” I finally asked, breaking the long silence between us. I felt him take in every inch of me with his eyes. I felt the weight of his gaze on my hard nipples; I watched it linger on the exposed skin between the end of my tank top and beginning of my waist band. His hand twitched beside him. I giggled.

His head snapped back to my face, giving it his full consideration with a heavy brow. And then the corner of his mouth twitched up, and my breathing caught in my chest. It's go time. I turned towards the forest between the motel and the highway, dug my toes into the earth, and took off in a sprint. It didn’t occur to me the callousness of my actions or the danger of being alone and barefoot in the woods if he decided not to follow me. I knew he would be following me.

His boots hit heavily behind me, each step a thump against the meadow floor that made my body pulse with fear and exhilaration. I had crossed the meadow within seconds and hit the treeline with adrenaline ringing in my ears. He was behind me; I heard his boots crash down on a twig and thought about how ridiculous it would have been if I had been wearing my flip-flops. Another laugh bubbled up deep inside and escaped out into the forest, echoing across the trees. What a thrill, what a moment, what a life. True freedom stretched out in front of me, driven by the heat of him coming in hot behind me.

“Bank left!” He barked from behind me, the intensity of his voice finally matching his presence. I turned without thinking, relishing in the little game we were playing. Come and get me. I want it, but I won’t make it easy. I want him to want it more. A huge log blocked my path; I vaulted over it and let the mud absorb the shock of my body. A cavernous river came up on my right, nearly ten feet below where I found myself running a little obstacle course. Bank left. What a fun little game. Another uncontrollable bout of laughter ran out of my mouth and onto the forest floor - and then his hand closed around the back of my shirt, and I was down on the floor with the wind knocked out of me.

It all happened so fast that even with my eyes open I missed it. Within seconds of being on the forest floor he was on top of me, his hands grabbing my wrists and shoving them against the cool mud and fallen leaves. All I could see were his eyes; all I could feel was his molten hot body heat on every connecting piece of us. I squirmed, fighting feebly against his grip out of fear of ruining our game.

“Is that all you’ve got?” He growled down at me. I smiled. What a great team mate he was. My efforts to evade him tripled; my body writhed and bucked against the weight of him on top of me. His smile split across his face again, and he gritted his teeth as he moved my fighting arms so he could hold them with one hand. His grip faltered and my hand shot up, smacking him across the face before either of us could react. He flinched, but barely.

The forest went quiet. My body froze. That unnerving smile just got bigger; I laughed in response.

“So that’s how we’re going to fucking play, huh?” He demanded, yanking my wrist out of midair and slamming it down onto my other one.

Once he had them both secured in one hand, he used the other to cover my face and push it into the mud; his thumb slipped into my mouth, and I tasted printer paper and dirt. Heaven. With my upper body fully disabled, he moved his weight off me and used his knees to kick my legs open, situating himself right up against my pussy.

“You know, you’re so wet that your shorts are dripping,” He told me, finally releasing my face from his vice grip. I gasped, my back arching as his hand shoved my shorts to the side and the fresh air hit my wet, aching labia. “You want this so fucking bad, don’t you? Little whore.”

His hand went to his belt buckle. Words evaded me. All I had was the feeling of his jeans against my inner thighs, the cool mud beneath me, and the trees dancing overhead of us. I squirmed harder, feeling the very tip of my clit press his zipper as the belt buckle clinked open. He yanked his zipper down, his finger brushing open my lips as he did so.

“I said, you want this so fucking bad, don’t you?” He repeated, taking his massive cock out of his underwear and letting it drop down onto me. I felt the weight and girth of it immediately. Thank god I already came; he was about to rearrange me. Letting his cock rest against my bare pussy, he reached up and slapped both my tits, hard.

“Yes!” I yelped out, responding to every single part of him that landed on me. “I want you.”
“I know,” He replied, and shoved the entire length of him inside me. Nothing else mattered; as soon as his head pushed inside me, I was gone. He set the pace immediately - a deep, hard fuck that left me vibrating from the aftershocks of each stroke. Moans and gasps of pleasure were pulled out of me entirely against my own will, each noise a direct response to his movements.

I watched the furrow of his brow and met his eyes with deep intensity as he stared down at me. What an experience to watch pleasure pulse across his handsome face as his toned abdomen forced himself inside me again and again. My orgasm was ripped out of me as a splash of girl cum cascaded against him. It was not an orgasm that builds itself kindly, not like the one I had given myself in the hotel room. This one was demanded of my body by his; it was a gift he had given himself. It was the moment that I stopped fighting and became his.

And he knew it too. He felt it; as soon as I baptized him in squirt, our game had been reborn. He let go of my wrists; I had almost forgotten he was holding them in place, and both of his hands grabbed my hips as he drove our bodies together. My orgasm had barely finished when I felt another one building, accompanied by a small ache of pain. My legs started to tremble as my pussy continued to mount pressure, clamping down around him so hard it was pushing him out. He picked up the pace, just ever so slightly, and just as I felt the orgasm crash onto my body he pulled out of me fully for the first time since he had been inside of me. A tidal wave of squirt gushed out of me and covered his cock, legs, and the forest under me. I wouldn’t be surprised if part of me ran into the river.

His cock was glistening, deep red with thick veins on all sides, and his head was just a little larger than the rest of him. He sat back and watched the puddle form with a satisfied smile on his face, then he looked at me. Dirty, sweaty, with hair sticking to my face and grass on my cheek - he reached up and pulled a blade of grass off me before patting my face just a little too hard to be kind.

“Turn around, get on your knees,” He directed and I obliged. As I swivelled, he stood, towering over me with his knees at my eye level. One of his big hands reached down and grabbed a handful of my hair, using it like a leash to pull me in a small semicircle and face me towards the river. Across the banks the forest spread out without discernment, an all-encompassing forest that swallowed people whole. Fear snuck up in my body again as I considered the lack of distance between me and the cliff’s edge - there was maybe two feet from my dirt-covered hands to the cliff edge.

Then he was back inside of me, and the world righted itself. The only thing I could focus on was him and how my nipples brushed the grass every time they swung beneath me. His pace was unrelenting, and he felt even bigger at this angle. Gasps turned to moans, and for a firm and well-placed smack on my ass, I rewarded him with a little scream. Immediately his hands found my throat and wrapped around it, pulling my head backwards as my back contorted to accommodate.

“Howl for me,” He said and spat directly on my face. The slimy heat of his spit sent shock waves through my body, inciting another orgasm on the spot. His pace never changed as he fucked me through it, not even allowing my body to have the contractions it craved. I moaned, completely undone at his hands.

“I said, fucking howl, bitch.” He reiterated, finally letting go of my throat and shoving my face towards the ground. My elbows bent as I caught myself, his hands returning to grab my ass cheeks and literally drag my body back onto his cock with every stroke. I felt another orgasm building, and my legs started shaking, as if they might give out under me. As my body tensed and peaked for the fourth time, I forced a howl of pleasure out of me. He was right; I was his bitch, and I should act like it.

His spit dripped off my face and onto the ground as he grabbed my hips and buried his load deep inside me, not even bothering to ask if I was breedable or not. I felt load after load of hot cum coat my insides as he throbbed through his orgasm. One of his heavy hands came down on the back of my head and started slowly pushing me down, bending me so that I had no choice but to lie in prayer position with my ass up and pussy exposed. He didn’t move, still buried deep within me.

“I’m going to pull out soon, and when I tell you to, you’re going to flip over and lay on your back for me with your tits out,” He directed. His tempo and intensity had changed; the growling man that had told me to howl was gone and had been replaced by a calculated, calm tone. He pulled himself out slowly, and I felt something touch my clit just slightly. Cum started pouring out of me, hot and thin now that it had been inside of me for so long. The slight pressure on my clit persisted, and I waited in silence for him to tell me my next move.

“Okay, roll over and take your tits out.” My cue, delivered in the same tenor that you would instruct someone learning a new skill for the first time. I flipped over, pulling my shirt up so he had access to my full torso. His hand was cupped by his side, and I realized that all of the cum that had leaked out of me was sitting in the palm of his hand. My nipples immediately hardened again.

“Not quite,” He said and grabbed the hem of my shirt with his free hand, pulling it up over my head. The world went red and warm as he covered my face entirely and put his free hand over my mouth, forcing me into shallow breathing with minimal airflow. “Much, much better.”

Then his other hand came up and absolutely covered my tits in cum. Now cool and sticky, his cum felt heavy on my body as he smeared it from tit to tit. He rubbed it into my chest, leaving a trail of cum behind as he moved onto my stomach and continued to cover my skin with his cum. I was his bitch, his cum rag, his fuck toy. And this made it impossible to ignore.

When he was satisfied, he reached up and pulled my tank top back down, sealing in his cum against me. Immediately I found his eyes, searching for who he was now and who I was to him. Warm, hazel eyes with an intense curiosity that I had not yet registered from him met me. I watched as he tucked his going-soft cock into his underwear, then redid the zipper and belt buckle. When he was done he stood up, extending a hand to me and bringing me to my feet.

“Come on,” He said, his voice gentler than it had been as he turned to head back towards what I assumed to be the direction of the motel. “I put up the No Vacancy sign as soon as you left my office. We’ve got a long night ahead of us.”

“I need a cigarette and a shower,” I said as I delicately made my way through the brush. Each step was a reminder that I had been barefoot the entire time. He laughed, and it echoed throughout the trees. Fuck, it was going to be a long night.

Swipe to reveal

Tatted, chubby, and curvy 💋

Happiest with my ass stuffed and my pussy dripping with a hot load of cum

Calgary gal in Kelowna for the weekend 🤭

Girl cum is the best cum

Practicing for my gangbang

Degrade me while my bf eats me out

Craving a spit roast for dinner tonight

Are you cumming in me or on me?