Another short by Killer~ Dangerous game

[Deleted Member]

The moon hung low over the black pines, spilling thin silver across the lake’s glassy surface. Two young women in their early twenties, lithe and sun kissed from days spent half wild in the woods, had slipped into the water naked an hour earlier. They laughed softly as their clothes lay abandoned on the pebbled shore. Their bodies moved with easy confidence, full breasts lifting and falling with each breath, hips swaying as they waded deeper, droplets tracing slow, glistening paths down the curves of waist and thigh.
They never saw the shape waiting among the trees.
Broad shouldered and silent, he stood motionless until their bare feet finally found the bank again. Only then did he step forward, one deliberate stride into the moonlight. His hockey mask caught the pale glow like bone. The women froze for half a heartbeat. Then instinct took them.
They ran.
Bare soles slapped against pine needles and root tangled earth. Breaths came sharp and ragged. Breasts bounced with every frantic stride. Damp hair whipped across flushed shoulders. Behind them the heavy, even footfalls never quickened, never faltered. He didn’t need to sprint. The forest was his.
The first girl, dark haired and the one with the fuller figure, tripped on a hidden root and went down hard. Before she could scramble up he was there. One massive hand closed around her wrist, iron and unhurried. She screamed once, high and wild. He spun her, pulled her against his chest just long enough for her to feel the heat radiating through his shirt, the hard planes of muscle beneath. Then he dragged her backward through the underbrush. Her heels skidded. Bare breasts heaved with panicked breaths.
He had already found the second girl minutes earlier.
Blonde and smaller breasted but no less curved, she had been trying to circle back toward the tent when he stepped out from behind an oak. She bolted. He simply reached out, caught the hem of her soaked shirt, and tore it open in one brutal yank. Buttons popped like gunfire. Cool night air kissed suddenly bare skin. Pale nipples tightened instantly. He bound her wrists behind the nearest trunk with a length of coarse rope from his belt, leaving her arched and trembling. Her chest rose and fell in shallow, *** rhythm while she watched the darkness for her girlfriend.
Now he hauled the dark haired one into the small clearing beside their tent. The blonde whimpered at the sight of them… her lover’s wrist still locked in his grip, shirt hanging in tatters, skin streaked with dirt and lake water, nipples peaked from cold and *** and something darker she refused to name.
He shoved them both through the unzipped flap.
They collided inside the cramped nylon space, bodies pressing together instinctively. Soft breasts crushed against softer breasts. Thighs tangled. Arms wrapped tight in a desperate, shaking embrace. Their breathing filled the tent: quick, shallow, almost synchronized. Sweat and lake water mingled. Nipples brushed with every tremor. Outside, the shadow in the hockey mask crouched at the entrance, blocking moonlight, blocking escape.
He didn’t speak.
He didn’t need to.
The air inside the tent thickened with the scent of pine, wet skin, and raw, electric terror, and beneath it all, something warmer, something slick and undeniable, blooming low in their bellies despite everything.
They clung harder.
He watched.
And waited.

The tension inside the tent snapped like a taut bowstring.
What had begun as raw terror melted under the heat of their shared adrenaline, the pounding of hearts shifting from *** to something fiercer, hungrier. The dark haired woman moved first. Her lips crashed against the blonde’s in a desperate, open-mouthed kiss. Tongues met, slick and urgent. Hands roamed, fingers digging into soft hips, palms cupping heavy breasts, thumbs circling stiff nipples until both women moaned into each other’s mouths. Their bodies pressed tighter, sweat slick skin sliding together, thighs parting instinctively as arousal bloomed hot and undeniable between them.
Outside the unzipped flap, he watched the shift happen. The moment their *** turned liquid and wanting, he knew it was time.
He ducked inside, broad frame filling the entrance and blocking the last sliver of moonlight. The hockey mask stayed on, white and impassive, but the rest came off in deliberate pieces. Shirt tugged over his head and discarded. Boots kicked aside. Pants shoved down and stepped out of. Naked now except for the mask, his body was carved muscle under tanned skin, wide shoulders tapering to a narrow waist, thick arms corded with strength, powerful hands flexing at his sides. His cock stood rigid, thick and flushed, veins prominent along the shaft, the head already glistening.
The women broke their kiss just long enough to look up at him. Breaths ragged. Chests heaving. Eyes wide, not with *** anymore, but dark, glittering want.
The blonde reached out first. Her fingers trembled only a little as they wrapped around his length. She stroked once, slow and exploratory, feeling the heat, the velvet hardness, the way he throbbed against her palm. A low sound rumbled behind the mask. He stepped closer.
The dark haired woman slid behind her girlfriend, pressing kisses along the blonde’s neck and shoulder while her hands cupped and lifted the smaller breasts, offering them up. The blonde leaned back into the embrace, still stroking him, her other hand reaching to pull him down.
He sank to his knees between them.
What followed was slow at first, almost reverent. Hands and mouths learning new territory. He kissed the dark haired woman deeply while the blonde guided his cock to rub along her slick folds. Then he turned, claiming the blonde’s mouth in a bruising kiss as the other woman knelt and took him between her lips, tongue swirling, cheeks hollowing. They traded him back and forth like a shared secret: one sucking while the other kissed his throat, his chest, his abdomen; fingers sliding inside wet heat, curling, stroking, coaxing gasps and whimpers.
Soon the tent was filled with the wet sounds of mouths and fingers and bodies moving together. He lifted the blonde onto his lap, guiding her down until he filled her completely, slow, inch by thick inch, while the dark haired woman straddled his thigh, grinding against the hard muscle, her clit dragging with every roll of her hips. They moved in rhythm…the blonde riding him deep and steady, breasts bouncing, head thrown back; the other woman rocking faster, fingers tangled in his hair (still hidden beneath the mask), mouth on the blonde’s nipple.
He thrust up harder, hands gripping hips, controlling the pace until both women were trembling on the edge. The dark haired one came first, sharp cry muffled against the blonde’s shoulder, inner walls pulsing around nothing as she shuddered through it. That tipped the blonde over…she clenched around him, nails raking his shoulders, a broken moan tearing from her throat. He followed moments later, burying himself to the hilt and spilling inside her with a low, guttural groan that vibrated through the mask.
They collapsed together in a sweaty, trembling heap…limbs tangled, breaths mingling, hearts still racing but now from release instead of terror.
After a long minute of soft aftershocks and gentle kisses, he reached up.
Fingers hooked under the edge of the hockey mask.
He pulled it off.
Short cropped dark hair, familiar hazel eyes, the crooked smile the blonde knew better than her own reflection.
Her boyfriend.
The tent went still for one stunned heartbeat.
Then the blonde burst out laughing, bright, breathless, delighted. She swatted his chest.
“You absolute asshole,” she gasped between giggles. “I knew it was you the second you tore my shirt. The way you yank things, it’s always so dramatic.”
The dark haired woman blinked, then started laughing too, head dropping to his shoulder. “Oh my god. We actually pulled it off.”
He grinned, sheepish and smug at once. “Told you the mask would sell it. You two were so convincing I almost felt bad.”
“Almost,” the blonde echoed, still laughing as she leaned in to kiss him properly, no mask, no pretense, just them.
The dark haired woman snuggled closer, pressing a kiss to each of their cheeks. “Best camping trip ever.”
They dissolved into quiet laughter again, bodies still pressed close, the night outside the tent suddenly feeling warm instead of threatening.
Just three people who’d played a very dangerous, very perfect game, and won.

[Deleted Member]

Do you read novels, short stories, and if so, a few of your fav authors?

[Deleted Member]

Haven’t read anything in awhile, used to read fantasy and sci-fi novels. I liked Tad Williams, R.A. Salvatore, John Scalzi were a few of my favorite authors. My writing is just from stream of consciousness then tighten up the story from there.

[Deleted Member]

44 minutes ago, ScreamqueenNkiller said:

Haven’t read anything in awhile, used to read fantasy and sci-fi novels. I liked Tad Williams, R.A. Salvatore, John Scalzi were a few of my favorite authors. My writing is just from stream of consciousness then tighten up the story from there.

Thank You for answering, sharing. I don't read the stories or smut posted here, but I caught a couple of snippets of Your stuff and your prose is rather appealing and not the run-of-the-mill sex ramblings - No offence to anyone/anyone's writings!! Pondered if perhaps you were published/wanted to publish any works. You *seem* like a writer. 😉 Thanks again.

[Deleted Member]

Not published, I want to publish something one day, but haven’t tried to write anything longer than shorts as of now. Thank you for the encouragement!

[Br****]

That was hot ❤️