A WALK IN THE WOODS
By Billy Boy
------------------------------------------------------------------------- A note from the author: This story is here for the reading. You may use it and abuse it all you wish. It is not suitable for minors, so if you're under the legal age of consent don't read it! Copyright 1999 Billy Boy. -------------------------------------------------------------------------
Spring. The time of year I was drawn to this part of the woods. Warm wind in the trees, rippling sunlight playing on the forest floor like sparkling water. If I closed my eyes I could almost imagine I was listening to waves lapping gently at the sea-shore. No other part of the woods gave me the same feeling and no other time of year felt the same. It had been so for about three years now.
It's difficult to explain but I will try to as best I can. When I moved to the little cottage I now call home I felt an affinity with the surroundings. I knew I wanted to live there before I had even seen the inside of the building. I was surrounded by open meadow, orchards that had not been tended for at least 15 years and over one hundred acres of private woodland that I had unlimited access to. It was like a dream come true. I moved there in April, as Spring was in full swing, and I took to walking in the woods every day.
Over the back, near the field that would be full of barley later in the year, was an area that I found myself drawn to time and time again. It took a couple of weeks before I realised that this was becoming my favourite 'neck of the woods'. Whenever I was here I began to feel randy, but randy in a way I don't usually feel. There was a feeling of not being alone, as if I were turned-on by someone being there with me, rather than just because I was having randy thoughts. When I touched myself it was as if I were being touched by someone else and when I came it was with a power I had rarely experienced before. Sometimes I would shoot a huge load without once touching myself.
It took some time before I started to think about this, my imagination seemed to have escalated somewhat since moving here, maybe it was the surroundings - being so close to nature. My calligraphy had also come on in leaps and bounds since I had been here, enabling me to use it for commercial purposes and earn some money from it at last. But there was an overpowering feeling that I was not alone, that it wasn't just imagination. There was an unseen presence in the trees that I was not afraid of ... it turned me on but I was not afraid of it. Sounds would betray its presence as I walked but when I looked there was nothing there. It did cross my mind that I was losing it, going potty. Anyone in their right mind would tell me it was just fancy ... daydreams. This feeling persisted through the Spring into early summer and was gone. It didn't return until Spring the following year. By the third year I was curious as to why I only felt the unseen presence during those particular weeks.
About mid-April this year I walked out one day wearing just my shorts. The sun was blazing out of a cloudless sky and it was warmer than usual for the time of year. I strolled along by the stream soaking up the suns rays and feeling the air on my naked skin. My nipples stood out like little buttons and the fine hairs on my body were raised in the cool breeze. I ran my hands over my chest and stomach, the sensuous feeling turning me on as I walked. My hand found its way into my shorts and slid under my balls and around the base of my shaft. I started to swell and thicken as blood pumped into the tissue of my cock. I found myself in the trees near the back of the woods and settled into the long grass and slipped off my shorts. The sensation of the cool, soft, grass on my ass and legs was a real turn-on, caressing my thighs, calves and buttocks all at once. I lay back and enjoyed the feel of my growing erection, the breeze playing around the head as my foreskin drew back naturally and exposed it. Sleepily I played my hands over my body, caressing and pinching, squeezing and pulling. Gradually I realised there had been movement nearby, I had been so lost in my play I hadn't noticed. It felt difficult to look up and when a hand touched me lightly I was not surprised.
Fingers ran gently up and down my torso, sending needles of delight through my body from tip to toe. Suddenly I felt completely helpless and my arms dropped to the ground at my sides, my legs falling apart, my eyes half closed. The figure moved and through my lashes I could make out a solid man, solid in the sense of muscular without being pumped-up, these were necessary muscles! Hair covered most of his body, appearing most dense on his lower half than on his chest. The hair on his head was thick and dark and two curls stuck out from his forehead like little horns. He was naked.
I lay there, unable to move while this stranger took my body. His hands were hot, and I mean temperature hot, and they were strong and gentle. He knew just where to touch me, he knew how much to touch me and he knew how much pressure to use. I was in seventh heaven. His body smelt damp and earthy and this turned me on even more. When he knelt between my legs and lay his body on mine I almost shot my load there and then. The feel of this powerful body over mine, his rough chest and flat hard stomach was so hot I almost passed out. He slid down the length of my body and a warm, wet mouth closed over my cockhead. His tongue darted into my piss slit and flicked at the skin attaching my foreskin to the shaft. My cock stiffened and pulsed. His fingers tightened around my shaft and he began to swallow me. His nose pressed against my pubic bone and I could feel his chin on my balls. Slowly he moved upward and then swallowed me again, going up and down on my hard dick. I could see spittle glistening on it. He had a powerful suck and when I felt my orgasm rising it was as if he was sucking it out of me. I came in a continuous stream, there was no pumping and spurting, it was one long cum that went on longer than usual. At first I wasn't sure whether I was pissing instead. He carried on sucking after I had shot my load and incredibly I felt myself harden again before I had gone soft.
Strong hands lifted my legs and threw my ankles over his shoulders, my butt lifted off the floor. As he positioned himself I caught sight of the most massive cock I had ever seen. It reared up in front of him, long and strong. It was perfectly straight and perfectly proportioned, the mushroom shaped head bulging red and wet. Normally I would have been very afraid if I had been threatened with a tool that big. I like cock but there are limits to what I can take and looking back now I reckon he was at least a foot long if not more. I closed my eyes and lay back to take whatever he had to give. My sphincter parted and that enormous cockhead popped inside. He pushed in slowly without pausing, the breath leaving my body as he filled me to somewhere under my lungs. I felt every inch of that wonderful dick as it climbed its way up into my guts, filling and stretching me. He drew out to the tip and then slammed in again. With no preliminaries he began to fuck me like a wild animal, plunging in to the hilt, slapping my ass with his hips, driving me backwards on the grass so that he had to crawl on his knees to keep up with me. I could hear someone grunting and I thought it was him as he fucked my ass canal but I soon realised it was *me. The sound left my throat each time he hit the top of my guts and my prostate with that battering ram of his.
Electric shocks prickled through my body like needles, shooting down my legs and into my head. Flashes of light played before my eyes and waves of pleasure washed over me. My balls contracted (I know this because they do every time I cum) and I blasted a slow motion jet of semen into the air. I came and came and came. Long streams of spunk climbed upward in long pulsating ropes. It felt like I wasn't going to stop cumming ... and at that moment I didn't want to! Each time he sank his erect fuck-muscle in my ass I shot out a geyser of creamy jizz. I was cumming in time with his thrusting. This seemed to go on for ages and I still hadn't stopped when he let out a roar, threw back his head and sprayed the entire inside of my body with hot, scalding, lava.
Boiling semen erupted from his man-meat, the walls of my passage pulsating with the swelling and contracting of his shaft. He buried himself deep, pressing his body against mine as his cock filled me completely. Wad after wad exploded in my stomach and I was still cumming myself. I don't know how long it went on for but after a while his juices started to flow out of me, running over my butt and trickling round to the small of my back and the base of my spine. His hips rocked gently as he unloaded his nuts inside me. My cock was still spurting cum, although not quite so high. When I eventually stopped I felt spent, wasted. My body was limp and in his control. I could do nothing but lay there and take it.
His tool stayed as hard as when he had first entered me and as his ejaculation subsided he began to pick up his rhythm again. His strokes building up to a deep, hard, thrusting that was hammering against my trigger. He fucked continuously, slowing only when he shot gallons of spunk up my ass. I was overflowing by now and loud slurping, sucking, noises accompanied his deep arse work. I remember cumming again and then again. I fired repeated salvos of hot, thick, cream that splashed onto my face and torso. I don't know how many times I shot my load but I *do know I have never cum so much in my life ... I didn't know where it was all cumming from. Just as I was sure I was out of seed I realised that this ejaculate wasn't jizz. I was pissing. The onslaught on my prostate was too much and my bladder emptied itself all over me and the woodland floor. I really was spent now.
I wasn't aware of when he left, only that I was getting my ass fucked over and over again. My butt was wet with excess spunk, as were his hips where it squirted back out of me. I don't know how many times he pumped me full of his jizz, I lost count there too. When I was able to move again I put my hand down there and touched my sore, gaping, hole. Thick fluid seeped out onto the grass, I was so full I was still leaking. I put my fingers to my face and smelt him. It was the same smell of damp earth and soil. I put my fingers to my lips and tasted him. It was nectar, sweet, slighty salty and thick like honey. I tasted some more and it was maple syrup. I fingered my hole gently and felt how wide it had been stretched, I could slip my finger in without touching the sides. I hadn't even been aware of his cock withdrawing from me.
I spent the next two days half-believing that I had dreamt everything. The other half of me said I hadn't ... the half that could still feel his shaft driving into me, opening me up and hammering my guts ... the half that could feel my open fuck-hole, not quite closed after being forced apart. I was confused. This wasn't real, it couldn't be, but it was. I returned to the same spot on the next three days but there was nothing, not even the feeling that he was out there somewhere. But on the fourth day...............
That was when I learned I hadn't been dreaming...............!
------------------------------------------------------------------------- This story was written from a fantasy I used to have when I lived in a place very like the one in this story. I often felt that I was not alone while walking in certain areas of the woods and I nearly always got turned-on in the open air ... still do. If you liked this story and have a similar, fantasy-oriented mind (or even just a dirty one), please email me with any ideas or fantasies of your own. I would be very interested in hearing them, particularly ones of the outdoors and of mythical beings or creatures.
Billy Boy -------------------------------------------------------------------------