Hiking

[Ki****]

# Unbound

The ancient oak’s bark was rough against her bare back, a stark, grounding contrast to the silk of the blindfold over her eyes. The forest air was cool and carried the scent of damp earth and pine, a crispness that made every inch of her exposed skin prickle with awareness. She was completely ***, and the sensation was a potent drug.

She heard him before she saw him, the soft crunch of boots on fallen leaves, the faint jingle of metal. Her breath hitched, a sharp, audible sound in the quiet clearing.

“Easy, lass,” his voice was a low rumble, a vibration that seemed to travel through the ground and up into the soles of her feet. It was a voice used to command, laced with a dark playfulness that made her core clench in anticipation. “The hunt is over.”

She felt his presence now, a wall of heat radiating in front of her. The space between them was charged, electric. He didn’t touch her yet. His silence was a tool, expertly wielded. She could picture him: the shaved head, the intricate outline of his muscles snaking over the hard planes of his shoulders and chest, the dark beard that framed a mouth currently curled into a predatory smile. The rough wool of his kilt brushed against her thigh, the brief contact sending a jolt through her system.

“Do you know why you’re here?” he asked, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper near her ear.

She swallowed, her throat dry. “No, sir.”

A low chuckle. “Because you asked for it. Every time you wore that look. Every time you pressed that perfect arse against me in the kitchen while I was fixing the sink.” His calloused fingers finally made contact, not on her skin, but tracing the air an inch from her collarbone. She shivered violently. “You wanted the Handyman to use his… tools.”

From somewhere on his belt, there was another soft metallic sound. A click. Then a gentle hum filled the air, low and insistent. He brought it closer, letting the vibration ghost over her nipple, which peaked instantly into a hardened, aching point beneath the thin air.

“This one’s for marking the wood,” he murmured, the hum moving in a slow, torturous circle around her areola. “But I think it will look far more pretty on your skin.”

The vibration disappeared. She heard a soft *thwip* as something cut through the air, followed immediately by a sudden, sharp sting across her upper thigh. She gasped, her body jerking against the tree. It wasn’t ***; it was a bright, clarifying spark of pure sensation.

“That’s one,” he said, his tone conversational, as if counting strokes of ***t on a wall. The flogger’s tails whispered against her other thigh, a promise of what was to come.

He moved behind her then. His large, warm hands settled on her hips, his thumbs pressing into the dimples at the base of her spine. He guided her forward, bending her over, presenting her to the cool forest air. Her heart hammered against her ribs. This was it. The submission, the exposure, the absolute surrender—it was a headier intoxicant than any whisky.

She felt the broad head of his cock, slick and impossibly hot, press against her entrance. He was HUGE, a fact she’d admired with her eyes but was now comprehending with her entire body. He didn’t push. He just held himself there, a tantalizing, unbearable pressure.

“Tell me,” he commanded, his voice gritty with his own restrained need.

“Please,” she begged, the word torn from her.

“Please, what, me lady?”

“Please… slam it. Slam your cock into my pussy.”

With a guttural groan that was pure victory, he obeyed. He drove into her in one powerful, breathtaking thrust, filling her completely, stretching her in the most exquisite way. She cried out, the sound swallowed by the trees.

He didn’t give her a moment to adjust. He set a punishing, relentless rhythm, each deep plunge a claiming. His hands tightened on her hips, surely leaving bruises she would cherish later. The sounds were obscene and glorious: the wet slap of skin on skin, his ragged breaths, her own *** whimpers and moans the Gorilla grunts with every deep ,strong, hard stroke into her sweet tight vagina.

“This is what you wanted,” he grunted, his voice strained with the effort of his thrusts. “Hardcore. Me, fucking my lady like a beast in the woods. Taking what’s mine.” as she whimpers eyes rolled back.

He leaned over her, his chest plastered to her back, his beard scraping the sensitive skin of her shoulder. One hand snaked around her hip, his fingers finding her clit, circling it with a firm, knowing pressure that matched the rhythm of his hips.

The dual *** was too much. Her orgasm ripped through her without warning, a violent, shattering wave that made her legs buckle. He held her upright, fucking her through the convulsions, his own release following seconds after with a roar that echoed through the silent forest, pumping his heat deep inside her.

For a long moment, there was only the sound of their heavy breathing. He stayed buried within her, his weight a comforting pressure. Slowly, he pulled out, and she whimpered at the sudden emptiness. His hands were gentle now as he turned her around and carefully untied the blindfold.

The forest light was dim, but she could see him clearly. His eyes, dark and intense, held hers. A smirk played on his lips. With a tenderness that belied the ferocity of their joining, he used his thumb to wipe a tear from her freckled cheek.

“Just the first coat, me lady,” he said, his voice back to that playful rumble. “The day is long.”

[Ka****]

Thats was beautifully written. I enjoyed letting it play out in my head. Thank you

[xl****]

God I want to do this.

[Ki****]

Saturday at 11:07 PM, KatrinaNova said:

Thats was beautifully written. I enjoyed letting it play out in my head. Thank you

You're welco.e dear