13. July 5th
Rafael
As the sun starts to set, my senses start to heighten. Or maybe I’m method acting a little too hard with this wolfish persona I”ve adopted. It’s not too much of an act really—I have always wanted to do this—but it’s not easy to tell your one-night stand you want to chase them in the woods. Apparently that freaks some people out.
Not my Angel though.
No, she gets off on it—and that gives me a smug confidence boost. Because even though I’ve never done this before, I know I can give her what she wants. Not only that, but she trusts me to do this for her.
Getting her off with fear is my mission. I want to make this night memorable for her. When she said she wanted to keep this arrangement open, it rubbed me the wrong way, like sandpaper against skin. But I want to give her what she needs, what she desires. So I’ve taken this as a challenge: I’m going to make myself available for her every time she’s needy. I’m going to rock her fucking world so hard that she won’t even consider another partner.
We’ve somehow found ourselves in a temporary friendship loophole, and I, for one, will be taking full advantage of this. It’s like the universe has handed me this perfect, thick gift I’ve secretly pined for but could never have. With a timeframe and expectations in place, it’s my one chance to have Angie without hurting her.
Between taking my father’s advice and knowing she wants a full commitment—that’s what has always stopped me. When we didn’t kiss on that high school camping trip, it really was because I didn’t want to ruin our friendship. She’s my closest friend, and if I kept her only as a friend, then I’m still obeying my father’s advice. I’m still in his good graces.
Being her best friend has always been a priority. It’s not like she would ever stand to be in a relationship with me—she’d see soon enough how inadequate I am, how far short I’d fall from her expectations and—well, it’s better the way it is now. Just friends. And if that means my heart needs to take a hit so she can get what she wants, then I’ll always do that for her. I’ll always be that for her.
And if she wants me to chase her in the woods, who am I to deny her?
We took the afternoon to fill out the rest of her BDSM interest form, which fascinated me endlessly. She’s exactly my brand of kinky. She’s open to an array of interests—things I’ve never considered, but with her interest piqued, so is mine.
Tonight’s activities require safewords since the whole point is her running away from me, fighting me, telling me no. So in honor of one of our favorite musical pairings, her safeword is Dolly Parton and mine’s Kenny Rogers.
While she was filling out the form, I took a long run through the woods to get the lay of the land, keeping a mental tracker of where all the dangerous spots would be and to avoid them. I want her to be scared, not injured. I also thought about how to prevent her from tripping. My biggest fear of what we’re about to do is her falling on her stomach. Thankfully, there is a narrow pathway I told her to stick to since it’s fairly clear of tripping hazards. But I’ve also seen this girl tussle with her brothers and I once watched her compete in a Tough Mudder course. This woman is agile and has reflexes better than a cat—Razzle Dazzle notwithstanding.
He’s a million years old and almost blind; he gets a pass.
We ate an early dinner and dusk is about ten minutes away. I’ve already hidden myself high up in an evergreen as I watch her tighten the laces of her hiking boots. She then takes a bite of a protein bar and a swallow of water.
Good girl.
I can’t hear her from where I’m perched, but I watch as she hypes herself up—little jumps side to side as she shakes out her arms and rolls her neck—like she’s about to step in a boxing ring instead of a hike through the wilderness.
God, she’s perfect.
Tonight, she’s wearing black leggings and a tight white tank top. Her hair is a little wavy from the lack of styling products we have available to us, but it’s setting me off. I want her hair to be a mess of twigs and leaves when I’m done with her. I want that white top so stained nothing will ever remove the memory. I want to yank those leggings down and find her wet cunt quivering, scared, and ready.
Leaving the safety of our campsite, she makes her way through the thick forest, looking around for signs of life. When a squirrel runs down a tree beside her, she nearly jumps out of her skin, and I chuckle to myself.
This is going to be fun.
Angie makes it about fifty yards before I decide to scale down the tree and follow her from a safe distance. There’s enough tree coverage that I can hide easily when necessary. As she moves through the path in the woods, I can see her posture relax a little—like she’s growing used to the environment.
Can’t have that.
Picking up a few large stones at my feet, I find a decent hiding place behind a fallen tree and chuck the rock in her direction. It lands far away enough it won’t hit her, but close enough for her to hear impact. She stops in her tracks and quickly spins around looking for where or what the sound came from. As she continues her walk, I then release a series of crow-like caws, making her head spin again.
Continuing to stalk her, I wait for the sun to finally dip just low enough to create the perfect blanket of fear. Just dark enough to make it hard to see, but light enough that when she finally catches a glimpse of my body—bounding between trees—she panics and starts to run.
I’ll catch you, little creature.
She runs faster than I’ve ever seen her, but with panic surging through her, she falls forward, making my heart lurch, but she extends her hands, catching herself on a tree trunk. She may have saved herself from harm, but with that tiny amount of fear now erupting like a volcano inside me, I’m taking no more chances.
I’m close enough now that when I stop only a few feet away, she’s fully aware of my proximity. But before she can turn around to find me standing there, I let out a howl and duck low to grab her ankles.
She screams at the top of her lungs as she kicks her way out of my grasp. “No! No!” she cries, scrambling to run away. Her fear ripples off in waves and I swear it only fuels me. Consensual nonconsent was something she marked as very interested in, but only in certain situations such as this—and I must hand it to her: this is fucking hot. The longer I stalk her, chase her, the more I become wholly a hunter.
The more I need her.
My dick is rock hard and begging to be buried deep inside her. When she manages to slip away and sprint toward the creek, all I can think is, Catch her.
There’s a decent-sized hill leading down to the creek from where we currently are on the path, but my little creature runs for her life down the hill. I halt myself just before the drop off and watch her look back up at me, eyes wide with fear, as she tries to hastily get to the water. But it’s too steep for her to run down.
“Fuck, why did I think this was a good idea?” she whimpers, trying to use a downed tree as leverage.
With a plan in place, I watch her slowly struggle to get down, slipping every few feet and trying her best to escape. I can tell she’s being as careful as possible, which I appreciate, but I can also see the fear. When she’s almost to the creek though, I jump, landing on my ass and sliding down the slope with my legs extended. Dead leaves cover the forest floor, providing me a fast route as I push away from obstacles. Landing with my feet in the cold creek, I spin around with my hands on the bank in front of me, watching as Angie’s eyes bug out.
“Shit!” she hisses, trying to scramble back up the hill, but she’s too close to me now. I’ve got her right where I want her. I quickly clean off my hands in the creek, then climb up the bank and flip her to her back, making sure to gently lay her down. Her scream punctures through the soft rustling of leaves and I shift myself lower to grab both of her ankles and pull hard. “No! No! No!” she sobs.
“Mine,” I growl as her feet land in the water next to my own. Wasting no time, I pull off her tank top and shove her sports bra up to expose her exquisite chest.
“What are you doing?” she pants, her face painted with fear.
“Taking what’s mine,” I bark before latching my mouth to her nipple and sucking hard. I lower my hips against hers and with one hand, I hitch up her leg around me. She begs and pleads with me to let her go, but her leg is staying wrapped around my back all on its own.
And I don’t hear her safeword.
With my mouth still firmly planted on her chest, she writhes under me, her warm center grinding against my cock. I shift my body just enough to yank the stretchy fabric down from her waist. Releasing her nipple from my mouth, I stand up and quickly unbuckle and unzip my pants. When she tries to make a run for it, I throw my hand against her neck and pin her down. I love a good choke, but she’s pregnant and we agreed not to take any chances. What we’re doing is risky enough. So my grip is light on her throat—just enough that she knows it’s there, but it never constricts her airway.
“I don’t think so, little creature,” I whisper. “I hunted you. I pinned you. I own you.” I take my other hand and slide two fingers across her pussy, feeling the overwhelming evidence of her arousal. “I can do whatever I want with you.”
“No,” she chokes out. “Please let me go. I promise to leave you alone.”
“I don’t want to be left alone,” I sneer, leaning into our scene. “It’s my job to keep you safe, and here you are running away from me?” I shove those two fingers deep inside her warm pussy.
“I’m sorry,” she whimpers as I push my hand against her jaw, still not squeezing, but the threat still lingers.
“You’re not sorry. You want this fucking punishment, don’t you?”
“No,” she cries.
“Then say it. Say the word now and I’ll let you go. But if you don’t, I will take what belongs to me,” I growl. When she says nothing, her throat works beneath my palm. I grab my cock at the base and press the shaft against her slit before saying, “That’s what I thought,” then I thrust inside her pussy—the pussy I earned.
“Fuck!” she bellows.
As badly as I wanted to fill her completely with one hard stroke, I know she’s not ready for my full size, so with great restraint I only push in half-way.
Leaning down to cover her body fully, I kiss her neck as she breathes heavily. Our pants are around our thighs, limiting our movements, but that doesn’t seem to matter because for the first time—that I can remember—I am inside her.
When my nose brushes against her ear, I whisper, “I know how badly you want this cock.” I inch myself forward a little more. “How badly you needed that perfect little pussy fucked by my cock.”
“Yes,” she whimpers, grabbing on to the outsides of my shoulders and digging her fingers in for every ounce of leverage she can hold.
“You need it all, don’t you? You need every last inch buried in this cunt.”
“Please,” she groans.
“Stretch for me. That’s it. Yes,” I drawl, sliding into my rightful place.
“Fuck, that’s good,” she says. Once I’m confident she’s ready, I thrust into her hard, and she pulls me closer. “Raf!” she cries.
“That’s it, Angel. Tell the whole world who fucks you this good.”
“You,” she cries again. “Yes, Raf. Right there.”
“Right here?” I ask, keeping one hand folded gently on her neck as the other finds her clit buried beneath her soft mound. Her sharp inhale lets me know I’m right before her words do.
“Yes,” she chants and howls.
I chuckle as if a demon has possessed me. “How quickly your no’s have turned into yes’s, little creature. Say you’re mine and I’ll give you what you really came out here for.”
“I’m yours,” she shouts, and her pussy squeezes me. The sounds of flesh slapping against flesh cracks through the forest like the sound of trees splitting. Her pussy clenches tighter when I rub her clit with more precision and press it hard, sending her hips bucking into mine. “Please,” she begs, before taking my mouth.
Completely lost to her, I force my tongue against hers and growl nonsense into her. Unsure if they’re words or sounds, I succumb to the moment. I savor the wet warmth between our bodies. Her lips. The way her soft body allows mine to dig in. It’s all too much.
“I’m going to come,” she breathes. “Don’t stop.” I keep my hips thrusting against hers and the pace of my fingers exactly the same as she digs her nails into my shoulders and screams—for me.
“Raf! Fuck yes. Yes, keep going please,” she sobs.
Like I could stop. I keep pumping into her, watching her bloom before me. She rides her climax out for several minutes before I can’t take it anymore.
“Now you’re gonna take my cum, you disobedient little whore. I’m gonna fill you up. I’m gonna mark you so you can never run away from me again.”
“Yes,” she pants, and I finally take my hand off her neck, pushing myself up and gabbing her lush hips as I stare down at where I’m fucking her.
I thrust even harder. “I didn’t ask for your permission. I own you,” I grunt. “You”re mine to watch. Mine to chase. Mine to fuck and fill and breed.”
“Oh god, yes,” she whispers.
My balls tighten and the coil of arousal that wraps around my spine finally breaks and my thrusts staccato. “Fuck,” I grit. “That’s… Fuck.”
And then, my mind goes beautifully blank.
Several moments later when I come to, my forearms braced on either side of Angie’s head. She’s looking up at me like I hung the moon.
“Sir,” she smiles. But not like Sir in a Dom way, like sir in a playfully respectful way. “That was incredible.”
“Yeah?”
“That was better than my wildest fantasies,” she sighs. “You really commit to a scene—holy fuck, dude.”
The way Angie can deliver such sincerity in such a funny and lighthearted way makes my entire body soar. Something childlike wrestles free from a bound place inside my chest when she compliments me like that. She always knows how to make me feel good.
Chuckling, I thank her. “I’ll take my award for best Primal Dom.”
“Oh, your award is the second baby you just put in me,” she says furrowing her brow as I stay buried inside her. “Seriously, I think you got me pregnant again.”
A full belly laugh rolls out of me as we both lay there, giggling like we always have. See, we can do this. We’re fucking nailing this temporary friends with benefits thing.
When we finally break apart, I pull out a clean handkerchief I brought with me and soak it in the creek before wiping her clean and checking on her. With nothing physically or emotionally hurt and minimal scratches on either of us, we make the long walk back to our campsite, recounting every detail of the scene and talking about our favorite parts.
When we make it back, I prepare another hot meal for us and make her drink plenty of that arousing creek water she’s so fond of now.
I smile to myself.
What a little freak I have.