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The Thug

By: whiteboy



Mark and Janet were on their way to their honeymoon resort. The plane gliding through the air like some majestic bird as Mark put some head phones on to drown out the noise. Janet feeling slightly nervous at their getaway to the Bahamas looked out the window memorizing the place that she lived for the last ten years. 

They got married less than two hours ago and both couldn't be happier. Mark was a business man who dealt in the furniture business while Janet was a part time journalist. Both couldn't be happier together and were very much in love although they still had some of their little hang-ups.

Janet's was probably her very good looks and rather striking personality that many guys mistook as flirtatious. She stood at 5'8 and had rather large breasts but a rather slim figure that was due to working out at the gym on a weekly basis. Her face was akin to a young Cindy Crawford's. Reporters nowadays especially female had to rely more on their looks than any actual skills that they might posses. 

One of Mark's was his racism, especially towards blacks but it was always thinly disguised and it was something that Janet was able to shrug off easily enough. The only time she had to confront Mark's ugly side was when he made a crude racist joke right in front of a rather intimidating looking black man. Although the man merely glared rather crudely at them before stalking off, for the first time in Janet's life she wondered if she made the right decision in agreeing to Mark's marriage proposal.

Looking over she noticed that a rather rough looking black guy was seated just right next to them. She was silently thankful that Mark was passed out. He casually gave her a glance and a smile that showed perfect even white teeth. Feeling rather flushed Janet quickly looked away.

The rest of the ride was pretty much uneventful and Janet dosed off thinking of how great this vacation was going to be.

****

"Honey how do I look?" Janet asked coming out noticing how her husbands jaw seemed to drop.

She was wearing a very thin white bikini showed off all the right curves. Her generous breasts and all too perfect figure was on display like she was some piece of meat. Never in all the time that Mark knew Janet did he ever imagine his wife could look so beautiful. Nor did he ever remember his beautiful bride could be dressed so sexily. 

"You look absolutely beautiful." Mark whispered hoarsely his face flushed as he felt himself get hard as a rock.

"Lets do it here and now. I'm through with all the waiting." Janet said feeling naughty as she swayed to her husband and sat on his lap like a little girl but nothing was little about her.

Mark groaned in longing as he placed his hands gently on her thighs and began to pull her panties off. They hadn't had sex for some time both busy with their wedding and having too many other things to do at the time such as work to have sex. As a matter of fact the last time they had sex was almost year ago!

A sudden banging at the door interrupted them cursing softly Mark hurriedly answered the door wondering rudely who the hell it could be, especially with a do not disturb sign on the door. Opening it he found himself instantly scared as their was a big hulking black man in the doorway with an open smile on his bright even teeth and a hand gun in his right hand directly pointed at him.

"Hello Mr. and Mrs. Tingle how are you guys doing today?" The black said pleasantly as Mark more scared than he ever had been in his life stepped back trying not to show his fear as his wife screamed in surprise and terror.

"W-what do you want?" Mark nervously asked wanting to attack this black man but knowing that if he did that he'd surely be killed.

"Your money and all your pretty wife's jewelry would be a good start." He replied casting Janet a commanding look that set her instantly on edge.

Scared Janet took off her ear-rings and other precious valuables while looking at the black man defiantly he recognized this guy from the plane ride. What was more she was suddenly more fearful than she ever been in her life.

Mark got all the money they had for the trip all the time conscious of the gun pointed at him. 

"Here you go." Mark said fighting the urge to vomit as he handed all their money to the black thug. "Now will you just go?"

The black mans answering laughter was as hard and cruel as the man himself. "Not so fast I want your new beautiful wife here to tie you up." 

Mark wanted to scream in angry defiance as the black man pulled out a large roll of duck tape which he promptly threw to Janet who instinctively caught it. Looking over at her husband she noticed that he looked angry as she approached him and to his hands behind his back and began to unroll the duck tap around his wrists. As she did she noticed that her husband was trembling as if fighting back tears.

"On that chair now." The thug ordered pointing to a rather unsteady looking chair at the side of the wall.

Giving their captor an angry defiant look she moved her husband to the chair, which he sat promptly down as if in defeat. As she taped her husband's legs to the chair her mind was working in over drive wondering how they'd get out of this predicament. Once her husband was securely bound to the chair she put the duct tape down and numbly turned to face her captor.

"Now what?" Janet asked more than a little defiant despite her very real fear.

The thug still had his pleasant smile on as he put all the couples jewelry and money in the bag than turned his attention back to the beautiful young blond woman. Noticing how the woman looked standing there with her string bikini on showing off ample cleavage and more skin than he was sure she was used to.

"Why not take your nice little bikini off and show off for me?" The question came out mildly but had an iron edge to it that Janet wasn't used to. 

Casting a nervous look towards her tied up husband than giving the gun a nervous glance she did what the man asked. The draw string came off easily enough showing her breasts in all their glory revealing thick hard delicious nipples causing the black man to smack his lips playfully his dark eyes roved downward as she pulled off the rest of her bikini. 

Everything about this woman leaked desire from the way her breasts slightly jiggled to her beautiful neatly shaved almost virgin looking pussy. Everything about this white woman was perfectly delicious and the fact that the husbands face was turning beat red from struggling in the tape that his own wife put around him was a bonus.

"Now I want you to come over here pull down my pants and suck my cock." The thug ordered hoarsely as he felt himself beginning to harden. 

Janet could only shake her head in denial stepping steadily backwards till her back hit the wall. 

"Leave my wife alone you fucking nigger!" Mark yelled at the top of his lungs as the thug stalked towards his beautiful bride with an almost hungry look on his ebony face.

Janet trembled in fear as the man stalked towards her his powerful body looked like it was made out of bricks, the sizable bulge very noticeable and very scary. Fear filled her as she was backed into a corner cuddling in fear. The mans bulge was before her as she felt a tremble of fear filling her as she hesitantly pulled the mans pants down.

A gasp of surprise mixed with fear filled her as one of the biggest cocks flopped out hitting her on the right cheek. It stood their raging and at least ten inches of hard thick steel making her husband look like a dwarf. A loud gasp of surprise filled the room as she tried to tore her eyes away from the thugs huge cock. Her new husband sat there taped to the chair tears were silently coming down his cheeks.

"Suck it and I'll let you and your wimpy husband over there go." The thug ordered lying through his teeth.

Janet looked up at the black man defiantly before putting her hand around it noticing as she did that her hand could barely encircle its sheer girth, her wedding ring sparkled in the light. Reluctantly she put her mouth around it noticing that the salty taste of pre cum filled her mouth as she forced herself to put more and more in. Finally after getting at least six inches she looked up at the hulking black brute with sheer venom as she continued her blowjob.

After awhile Janet was able to overcome her revulsion and reluctance and put as much effort as she could to relieve this thug so he would let them go. Mark felt tormented as he noticed that Janet seemed to get into sucking this guy off something she rarely did for him and never with such enthusiasm. 

"That's it baby keep on sucking nice and slow." The thug said almost gently all the while looking at the tied up husband noticing that the guys eyes were narrowed in rage and jealousy. 

Janet kept her eyes closed the entire time trying to keep her from gagging on the black man's gigantic cock. She hated giving head for it always made her feel more than a little sluttish not to mention the taste never appealed to her. As she sucked this stranger off in front of her tied up groom she couldn't help but feel like a complete slut, wondering if he'd end up ever looking at her in the same light again.

"Enough!" The thug suddenly snapped pulling his huge batlike cock from the pretty girls mouth. "It's time to get a taste of that nice virgin white pussy."

At first Janet couldn't believe her ears but reality began to set in as he simply pulled her up and put her over his shoulder like she was some kind of prize. All she could do was bang on the mans back with as much force as she could master which wasn't enough. Almost lazily he threw her on the bed like a lump of trash her squirming seemingly only exciting him all the more.

"You can't do this! You said you'd let us go if I'd give you a blow job!" Janet cried practically sobbing as the man roughly pulled her knees aside her hands desperately trying to cover her pussy in which he simply slapped her hands away.

"I lied. Besides you're not all that good at giving head anyway." The black man said noticing that the husband was yelling and banging his chair about in an almost hopeless manner as he brought his huge black cock against his sweet wife's entrance. 

"Leave my wife alone you fucking nigger!" Mark screamed realizing as he did that it was useless but not caring.

The thug only laughed at the pathetic white husband as he pushed forward causing the bride to groan in pain and almost hopeless protest. Continuing to fight him even though she knew it was helpless.

Her whimpers soon turned into loud cries of pain as the thug continued to force his huge cock inside her tearing her pussy up. Each inch he proceeded to penetrate her with caused her to cry out in pain his cock being thicker and larger than she ever thought possible. 

After hitting five inches he felt like he hit rock bottom a grin was on his lips knowing that any further was a place that her new husband never passed. Biting his lip slightly marveling at how tight this beautiful woman was he pushed forward till his balls rested against her causing her to cry louder than ever, her hands pushing against his broad chest uselessly trying to push him off her. 

"What's the matter baby, whitey never get this far?" The thug grated as he rested against her looking deeply into her eyes that just stared sightlessly at the ceiling.

Slowly he pulled out till just the tip was in her before pushing all the way forward his balls slapping against her. No pleasure filled the young bride as she struggled against her capture with as much strength as she could master. Desperately she looked over to where her husband was tied up silently beseeching him to save her. He simply stared back the tears in his eyes falling silently his hopelessness all to real as he desperately struggled to get out of his bindings.

"Don't think that I'll forget this you fucking nigger! I will find out where you live and I'll fucking kill your darky ass!" Mark screamed in sheer rage and frustration as the thug continued to use his wife like she was some piece of meat.

The thug suddenly stopped and pulled out of the beautiful white woman's pussy, her juices fresh on his huge cock testimony of her pleasure. He had enough of this white boys racist comments and decided it was time to show this man a dose of humiliation. The woman's sobs were fresh in his ears as he went up to Mark and gave him a long look in which he promptly looked away.

"Ya see this white boy?" The thug snarled showing off his huge hard cock so the honky couldn't help but notice his woman's pussy juices all over it.

Mark looked away from it desperately denying it to himself when suddenly a fist slammed into the side of his head causing him to cry in pain as he slammed onto the floor. The black man moved in on him suddenly with a savage fury his fists striking him unmercifully an almost empty smile on his lips. It was after the third hit where the white boy began to cry like a little baby when a pull on his shirt interrupted his concentration.

Turning around he was almost surprised that the mans girl looking almost fearfully at him than gave him a gentle kiss on the lips and pulled him gently away from the beaten husband who still laid on the floor crying pitifully.

"Don't hurt him anymore. I'll do whatever you want." She whispered leading him to the bed scared that he might hurt her love again the sight of his beating almost unbearable to watch.

The thug held her breasts in his large callused hands before roughly pushing her on the bed his eyes cold and hard beheld this beauty with an all to real hunger. The resistance she had previously seemed to have fled as she grabbed it marveling at its length and sheer girth noting that it was a lot bigger than her husbands and wondering if she could take it again. Remembering how it hurt her so badly.

"Can you please put a condom on?" She asked afraid of getting pregnant due to it being her time of the month.

Cold hard laughter answered her as he realized that she could very well get pregnant by him but the knowledge that they could possibly press charges on him if they found DNA stopped him. 

"Sure but you gotta get one from your white bitch of a husband because I didn't think to bring any you know."

Janet getting up went to where her husband was tied up his sobs slowly quieting down. She tried to avoid looking at her husband in the eye as she went through his pockets till she found a rubber in his wallet. 

I'm sorry dear but if we're going to get out of this alive I think it's best that I give into this man's demands and I promise to make it quick." She whispered hoarsely trying not to look at the venomous look he cast her way. Wondering if this was the end of their marriage before it even began.

Taking out the condom she couldn't help but notice that it looked a lot smaller next to the black mans huge cock. Slowly so as not to rip the condom she tried to put it over his cock and found it to be no easy task. It took two minutes at least before she was able to roll it down the mans massive ebony cock and even than it didn't even go half way. It brought to mind how much bigger this guy was than her groom.

"I gotta an idea bitch why not ride me for awhile." He said with an evil smile.

Reluctantly she got on top of him still holding his massive cock in her dainty white hand aiming it towards her pussy she pushed down and gasped loudly as she felt the head slowly entering her feeling better than the first time he entered her. Slowly she lowered herself on the massive cock each inch filling her in ways that she never thought possible. Sharp pain mixed with pleasure filled her until she got him all inside her. For a moment she paused biting her lip in denial of what this big cock was doing to her wondering guiltily if her husband would ever forgive her as she slowly moved up and down on the massive cock.

Thoughts of her husband hopelessly tied up and now beaten severely fled her mind as she proceeded to ride this black stallion for all that she was worth. Not realizing as she did that sharp cries and moans echoed the room every time he bottomed in on her. Nor did she feel the condom break. Suddenly all to soon she could feel one of the greatest orgasms in her young life overwhelm her causing the bed to shake and her screams of sheer passion to echo the room.

Before too long the thugs cock jerked in her as he groaned loud and hard cumming in her tight fertile pussy. It was than that she knew the condom broke and desperate now she tried to lift herself off him in which the black man simply grunted and grabbed her arm and gave her a harsh look. Meekly she fell against him in defeat scared that he would hurt her or Mark if she tried to resist him.

Tears filled her eyes at the way her body betrayed her to this nameless cruel thug. Wondering as she cried if her racist new husband would ever forgive her. It was awhile she wondered this to herself that she felt him get hard again causing her to start in surprise as he rolled over on top of her.

"You like my nigger dick don't ya bitch?" The thug taunted as he slowly moved his huge cock in and out of her formerly tight pussy.

"Just let us go please." Her whispered plea was more for her husbands benefit than any real desire to be let go. 

She could feel herself respond to this man against her will and it both terrified and disgusted her. The fact that this overly hung black guy was causing something stir in her that the man she loved couldn't even hope to was more than a little unsettling.

"At least let me go see if my husband is all right." Her words came out in a gasp as he felt him fully hard now thrust against her causing his balls to slap against her.

"Don't worry about little whitey. He'll be okay as long as you do what I say." He breathed looking deeply in her eyes causing her to blush slightly and look away. 

Mark couldn't fathom what was going on in his wife's head as all he could do laying like this was hear his beautiful brides sighs of pure unadulterated pleasure echo the room. The orgasms were bad enough effectively emotionally castrating him but now it almost sounded like they were making love.

The sounds of flesh moving against filled the room flesh as he simply laid their unable to move wondering if it was best to move on hoping that this was only an act and that his wife actually had something planned. He couldn't help but hear the soft kissing sounds and soft moans that followed as he hopelessly struggled noticing as he did that the tape started to tear.

"Please pull out!" Janet cried out as she felt the black man beginning to cum in her a hopeless feeling that she found impossible to resist filled her as he merely grunted his ass cheeks clenching and unclenching as he came in her violently. Falling against her his muscular body enveloping her as she hopelessly turned away tears of helplessness falling from her pale cheeks as simply resigned herself to her fate.

It was than when she noticed her husband getting out of his bindings and a huge amount of relief mixed with apprehension filled her. He got up and proceeded to pick up the chair trying not to look at his beautiful bride who laid beneath the black man like some breeding possession. Fear mixed with rage at the thought of her being pregnant knowing that if she was that she would have to get an abortion or possibly send the baby up for adoption.

The chair came crashing down knocking the assailant out his huge cock once hard now deflating rapidly. Pushing him off her she gave her new husband a grateful look who simply looked away almost embarrassed at how wanton she looked. Her pussy was sort of distended now and looser than he ever saw it not to mention at the way she seemed to cum with this black guy.

"Lets tie him up and call the police." Mark murmured.


The Thug



The police came and took questions while the thug whose name turned out to be Clarence D. Richardson Jr. was taken promptly into custody. Janet cried while describing the rape quiet vividly to the police who simply shook their heads in disbelief while jotting down all the information she gave them. Mark also gave his own version of what happened but both held back the fact that Janet gave herself wantonly to the black man like some form of slut.

After the cops left both decided to retire Mark not asking for sex nor did he believe would she give it if she asked. A searing resentment that he held in check during the ideal threatened to break loose as he laid there in the dark trying to get out of his head at the way his bride kissed this other man like she almost never kissed him. The way she came was perhaps the most debasing of all not to mention that the thug came in her possibly getting her pregnant in the process.

Epilogue:

Mark and Janet went through the entire two week honeymoon both some what in a daze. Once when Mark tried to make love to his wife she promptly refused him saying that she still felt out of sorts from the whole attack and wasn't up for sex. Mark could only look at his wife with disbelief and hurt in his eyes. Thinking that he lost any form of intimacy with his beautiful new wife even before their marriage started. 

So the honeymoon ended with Mark sexless and unconsummated the closest he got was a half hearted attempt at a hand job that felt more out of duty from his wifes part than anything else.

It was a month later after the honeymoon that Janet discovered that she was pregnant and was shocked and outraged when her husband brought up abortion. She grew up in a strict religious family which considered it murder to have an abortion and absolutely refused to do such a heinous act.

So it was that Janet had her baby next to her husband who saw the birth take place feeling the world fall apart when he saw the obvious bi-racial child being brought to world. It hurt knowing that the one thing he wanted wasn't going to come about.

The reality hit him hard as he watched the way his wife held the baby like it was a part of herself. Tears started to flood as he remembered that night of horror realizing that the black thug left a mark in her that he would never forget.

-The End-



The Thunder



The thunder’s sharp peal woke her from her fitful sleep.  For a short while she lay in bed watching the interplay of light and shadow created by the intermittent flash of lightning through the frame of the bedroom window.  If the children were home, instead of visiting with their grandparents, they would probably be in her room seeking parental comfort from young fears created by the wild weather.  Of course, if the children were home she would be sleeping in her heavy, flannel, “mommy” nightgown instead of nude in a concession to the sultry Texas night. 

That the children were gone was not the cause of her restlessness.  Her husband, a senior lineman with the local power company, was out with the rest of them in the ongoing struggle between the forces of nature and human convenience, working to restore electrical service to those who had lost it to the storm’s wrath.  

They had been high school sweethearts and had married shortly after graduation when he had been hired on to the same job he held now.  That was twelve years ago.  While still very much in love, both of them were aware that their sex life was becoming stale.  Long discussions, some in the heat of sexual passion, others in the contemplation of morning coffee, had led them to the local adult video shop in search of ideas to refresh the marital bed.  Tonight was to have been movie night, the feature film involving sex between two men and one woman.  Surprisingly, they had both found this particular sexual theme to be very arousing.  Sometimes after the post movie sex – always very dirty, always very good - they would discuss what had aroused their passions.  Hers were easy to explain.  What woman would not enjoy attention focused on her by two attractive and well-endowed lovers?  Her husband’s reason was more complex.  From his lengthy explanation she had gathered that his arousal was a combined validation of his choice in a sexual partner and his desire to make her happy.

Of course, none of that mattered tonight.  The freak thunderstorm had rolled in early last night.  By 4 a.m., every line crew in the company was busy disentangling tree branches from electric lines, repairing blown transformers, and restoring service to the customers.  The crews would continue to work until the storm blew over.  Then they would be released, one crew at a time in order of seniority, to drag their tired bodies home in search of rest, and sometimes other more enjoyable diversions.

She wished she could get her mind away from thoughts of movie night.  Unable to do so, she slipped from under the sheet covering her body, put on her sheer “movie night” robe, and left the confines of the bedroom for the living room with its wide screen television set, DVD player, and comfortable couch. In the living room she powered up the television and the DVD player, slipping the rented disk from its case to the waiting DVD tray.   She pressed the play switch.  The movie began.

Of its own volition one of her hands crept to her breast the fingers gently caressing the hard swelling of her nipple through the thin, translucent cloth of her gown.  The woman in the movie looked very much like her - same hair, same eyes, same tits, same ass, same carefully tended sex. As it played, each scene in the movie became more daring and erotic.  Her hand slid downwards towards the wet heat radiating from her pussy.  She fingered the rubbery hardness of her clit.  The forefinger of her other hand probed the folds of her lips, sliding in and out, collecting her juices for what was to come.  

Two men were onscreen with the woman, their hard, jutting erections contrasting with her smooth softness.  One of the men was lying on the couch.  His cock, wet with her spit, pointed straight up at the woman.  With her back to the man, she placed her tight pink asshole against his cock head and slid slowly downwards, impaling herself on his fuck rod.  

As she watched the woman on the screen her finger plunged deeply into her own hungry ass until it was completely buried.  A soft moan escaped her lips as her finger fucked in and out of her ass in perfect time with the couple fucking on screen.

The second man approached the woman.  Slowing, but never stopping the movement of her hips, the woman onscreen drew him to her, her hand guiding his hardness into her liquid twat.  Slowly, then with increasing urgency, he began sliding his cock in and out of her hungry pussy.  The man fucking the woman’s ass matched his tempo to that of the man filling her cunt.

Her breath came in shorter and shorter gasps.  Her mind reached out and became as one with the woman on the screen.  The moans wrenched from her soul by the simultaneous ecstasy of her finger in her asshole and the rubbing of her clit were inseparable from the sounds coming from the television speakers.  She arched her back and shuddered, a living duplicate of the woman in the movie.

She paused the movie, the magically frozen cum-spattered face and body on the screen identical to her own.  Her muscles relaxed, spent from their sensual efforts.  Her mind slowly drifted off into the sleep of the temporarily, but incompletely, satisfied.

A soft “snick” as the back door opened woke her.  Her husband was home.  Good.  She needed to be filled by something other than her fingers.

Standing to walk to the kitchen, she closed her gauzy robe with hands still scented with the musk of her night’s passion.   Her husband would be tired after his battle with the forces of nature.  He would need persuading.  On second thought, she let her robe fall open, revealing that which was hers and hers alone to give.  The crimson flush of an aroused woman on her face and breasts, she entered the kitchen.

Her husband stood at the counter, his familiar build sagging slightly from exhaustion as he poured himself a cup of coffee.  Eyes sparkling with lustful glee, she crept up unseen and brought her naked front against his well-worn work shirt.  As her hardening nipples pressed insistently into the firm muscles of his back, her hand snaked around his waist to the front of his jeans gently, yet firmly, grasping that which she needed more than anything else.

The full coffee pot shattered when it hit the counter, spilling its freshly brewed contents over the work shirt and jeans of the man standing at the counter.  He whirled, both in surprise at the unexpected intrusion into his most private space and in reaction to the hot coffee soaking his shirt and pants. The man wore the uniform shirt of a utility lineman, but he was not her husband.  

	The light pink flush of desire was instantly replaced with the crimson blush of embarrassment.  “Oh my God, Oh my God, Oh my God,” she stammered, her eyes fixed on those of a total stranger, his face contorted by the pain of the burning coffee.  Her maternal instincts quickly over-rode her embarrassment.  Grabbing a towel from the sink, she began frantically removing the coffee from his clothes.  The towel went from his chest to his stomach and began mopping his groin.

The kitchen door slammed open as her husband entered, drawn by the sound of smashing glass, her panicked utterances, and the yells of the man at the counter.   Striding forcefully across the kitchen, he grasped her and pulled her close to him.  She buried he face in his familiar chest, sobs of fear and embarrassment beginning to wrack her body.  The now soaked towel dropped to the floor unnoticed.

	As her shaking slowly began to subside, her husband tilted her head back with one hand.  Wiping the tears from her cheeks with his thumbs, he gently kissed her and asked her if she was okay.  Accepting her quick, tight-lipped nod as a “yes” he turned to the man at the counter and asked the same question.  At the affirmative response, he suggested that they go to the living room to rest and recover from their mutual shock.

Her husband and the other man sat on opposite ends of the couch.  She had been told his name, but her still spinning mind simply could not remember what it was.  She sat curled on her husband’s lap holding her robe tightly closed, her head once again buried in her husbands chest.  An awkward silence filled the room.  As she raised her head to survey the silent room, she noticed that both men were starring at the cum-splattered body of the woman in the movie frozen by the pause button last night.

“Is this what you were watching last night?” her husband asked.  Her ears detected a slight deepening of his voice.  “Yes,” she replied, “last night was movie night, and I needed to watch it.”  

“Did it help?” her husband teased.  “A little,” she answered, “but I didn’t get what I really needed.  I was hoping to get that when I went into the kitchen.” She shot a sidewise glance at the man on the end of the couch.  He sat unmoving, frozen in a state of embarrassed semi-arousal.  Through the thin material of her robe and the thicker material of her husband’s jeans, she felt the stirrings of the only cock she had ever known.

	Without warning, her husband pulled her lips to his.  First gently, then  more insistently, his tongue began to probe her mouth.  His hands began to roam her body, tracing her curves with the assurance born of long intimacy.  His mouth broke contact with hers and she followed his gaze to the man on the other end of the couch.   His arousal was obvious as his prick strained against the front of his tight jeans.  By its outline she could tell that he was about the same size as the actors in last night’s movie.  Her gaze was returned by the lust glazed eyes of the man on the couch.  She knew that both he and her husband wanted what she had to offer.  

Pulling her legs from her husband’s lap she stood and faced the man on the couch.  Her robe slipped from her shoulders and floated to the floor.  Naked and unashamed, driven by a need she could not have imagined yesterday, she walked to the end of the couch.  Leaning over, she placed one of her breasts with its now diamond hard nipple in front of the fevered gaze of the man on the couch.  Grasping the back of his neck, she drew his mouth to her breast.  Instinctively, his tongue flicked out sending electric ripples of pleasure throughout her body.  Slowly, she leaned back.  He followed, his body rising from its seat in order to keep her breast at his mouth.  As his hands cradled the small of her back she began insistently tugging, pulling at the shirt trapped in the waistband of his jeans.  He straightened and allowed her hands to perform their task.  Undoing the buttons one by one she revealed his chest and stomach, both well muscled from years of physical labor.  She could feel the presence of her husband now standing behind her, his hands moving to caress her lower back.

As the man in front of her shrugged off the shirt, she worked her fingers into the front of his jeans.  Her hands drifted to the button fly.  Faster and faster she undid the buttons.  Hooking her fingers over the waist of his jeans and underwear, she pulled them down.  His throbbing cock sprang free from the confines of his underwear and bobbed in front of her face.  She could feel the hands of her husband moving from her lower back to her ass.   Leaning forward she spread her legs to give his probing fingers access to her aching clit, her pussy, her ass, her everything.  She was a woman possessed, the beat of her pulse matching the fire in her loins.

Her hungry mouth engulfed the first strange cock she had seen since losing her virginity.  She devoured it.  Her tongue ran over and around the purple head and down along the shaft to its base.  Her lips caressed the cum-laden balls.  His prick needed to be slick for what she had in mind.  

	With unerring instinct her husband’s fingers massaged her clit increasing the burning wetness of her cunt.  He slipped two of his fingers into her dripping gash and began to fuck her with his hand.  Slightly shifting her hips she pulled her pussy away from his probing hand and rested her puckered pink asshole against their wet, slick tips of his fingers.  Rocking her hips back, she forced an opening for her husband’s fingers.  His other hand moved to replace them on her clit.   Her mind spun as she came for the first time that morning

	Her spasms of pleasure pulled her mouth from the cock of the man on the couch.  Pre-cum drooled from the slit of his prick.  Leaning forward she put her weight against him and pushed him back onto the couch.  She positioned him so that one of his legs remained on the floor while the couch supported the rest of his body.  His cock jutted into the air, slick with the mixture of spit and pre-cum.

 	Pulling his fingers from her ass, she spun to face her husband.  All control was lost in her frenzied desire for his cock.  She ripped his shirt open.   Buttons bounced across the carpet.  She yanked down her husband’s pants.  His cock was harder than she had ever seen it before.  It stood straight out, angry veins pulsing with his lust.

	Still facing her husband, she slid backwards until the smooth softness of her ass cheeks could feel the throbbing erection of the man on the couch.  Putting one foot on the couch and the other on the floor, she helped him press his purple cock head against her hungry asshole.  With a moan she pushed backwards.  The man on the couch thrust forwards.  His cock slid into her ass as her husband again fingered her clit.  Her world exploded into stars.  The moan ripped from deep within her informed the room that she had come for a second time.

	Still burning, still insane with heat, she bucked harder and harder against the man on the couch.  The rhythmic slapping of his balls against her ass punctuated her attempts to pull him entirely inside of her.  She began to slow her pace.  She needed more.  She needed another cock.
Leaning back against the man on the couch, she grasped the inside of her knees with her hands and spread her legs as far apart as she could without losing the prick in her ass.   Her juices slicked from her as her husband stepped forward and thrust his familiar cock into her cunt.

Her eyes rolled back into her head as she felt both cocks rubbing against each other through the skin separating her cunt from her ass.  Her world was nothing but two cocks rubbing together inside of her.  She could feel the tightening of his cock, then hot jets as the man on the couch shot cum into her ass.  Almost simultaneously, her husband groaned, shuddered, and shot his load.  

The world exploded.  Her shriek echoed off the living room walls.  She had come again. Her pace slowed.  Then stopped.  She could feel the cocks softening - first, the one in her ass, now the one in her cunt.  Slowly they withdrew.  Cum began to slowly leak out of her, staining the fabric of the couch.  Spent, she closed her eyes.

She felt herself lifted into the air.  Strong arms clasped her close in a gentle but unbreakable embrace.  As she drifted into the sexual afterglow, she felt herself gently laid into the bed she had risen from six hours before.   Loving hands pulled the sheet up to cover her chin.  She sensed rather than saw her husband close the curtains against the morning sunlight breaking through the formerly angry skies.  A kiss and a promise to return after cleaning the broken glass and spilt coffee were with her as she drifted off to a perfect sleep.

Any feedback is appreciated.



The Thunder Rolls



It was raining outside and had just started to storm. Marie couldn't believe how strong the storm had gotten so quickly. She was on her way home from picking up her new camper and the rain was just coming down in buckets. This weekend Marie was finally getting out just her and two of her friends for some camping and they had looked forward to a relaxing weekend. Figures it would have rain in the forecast! Marie's cell phone rang and she pulled into an empty lot to answer. Her two friends were still at work with a last minute project and Marie would have to set up this evening…and they would be there first thing in the morning. Marie was highly disappointed but understood, especially with the weather. She was grateful that she now had the camper and not a tent or she too would not be going. 

The friends had picked out a nice spot in the Adirondacks that was pretty remote. They had gone up the weekend prior to scope it all out. At least Marie knew where she was going. Once she found the secluded spot, she back in the camper. The rain had not hit as hard there at the camp site, not yet anyways. She quickly threw up the pop-up and sealed all shut. Hooked up all the batteries, etc.. and she started to settle in. The cell phone rang again with her friend anxiously telling her that she hooked up with the guy she had pursuing for months…would Marie terribly mind if they managed to come for lunch. Marie was furious! This weekend had been planned for weeks. She finally gave in and told them be there by noon or she was leaving. 

Marie couldn't believe her luck! She is stuck in the middle of no where and nothing to do….no one around for miles. Trying to make the best of a crappy situation, Marie threw on some sweats and a t-shirt, popped in one of the movies she brought and decided to snuggle in tight for the night. She pulled a Sky Blue from the fridge, grabbed herself some Doritos and lay across the queen mattress. She was glad the mattresses where heated since the temperature was dropping. 

About 40 minutes into the movie the rain began to pour down. The thunder was drowning out the small TV. Just then lights ricocheted off the camper and a truck motor could be heard. Wow. she thought….they made it!!!!! Just as the first frantic knock was heard she threw open the door only to see a sopping wet man at the door. She was pretty taken back by the surprise but when he asked if her husband would mind if he could use their camper for shelter only until the storm ended, she asked him to come in. Something in his eyes prompted this quick response, although she could not explain it. She told him she was not married as she laughed and told him that he could wait out the rain. 

They engaged in small talk, her explaining the crappy camping plans and he explaining that he had a flat and that his buddy couldn't get there right away to help. "My name is Luke by the way." His back window wouldn't shut all the way and he was also having a bad evening. She offered him a sky blue which he accepted thankfully. 

Her eyes continued to move downward which she prayed he did not notice. What was wrong with her!???? He was damn good looking with dark hair, and eyes to die for. He had sort of an innocent air about him and she secretly wondered what it would be like to kiss him. She had to get this whole idea out of her head! She does not know him, and she is not like that to begin with…how shallow!

A few minutes passed into an hour or so. They continued to laugh and make the best of the situation. Luke's phone rang and Marie tried to gather what the conversation was about. He seemed rather disappointed and then hung up. My friend cannot get here, one of the roads is flooded and he will have to wait until morning. Marie's heart skipped a beat. She didn't know if she was nervous, scared, or happy about that. She instinctively told him that he was more than welcome to use the other mattress since her friends won't be here to use it. Luke graciously accepted and told her that he promised to be a "good neighbor". Something came over Marie at that point. She didn't want him to be a good neighbor, in fact, she was not thinking about being good at all! She looked him in the eyes, oh those eyes, and asked him is that what he really wanted??? With a confused look on his face he asked her what she meant. Marie walked over to him and tugged on his wet clothes. "These look a little wet….you may be more comfortable if you hung them up to dry." Marie's devious smile alerted Luke as to her intentions and a smirk emerged on his lips. Luke wondered how far Marie would be willing to take this and without resistance pulled his shirt over his head. Marie knew at that point that what ever happened this evening… she could not say no. He maintained eye contact while he unbuckled his belt, unzipped his jeans, and slid them down. Sitting on the edge of the mattress he slid off everything else but his boxers. Revealed to Marie was his raging hard on that her eyes managed to gawk at and she could feel the heat radiating within the camper. She walked over to him without saying a word and stood before him. 

Luke asked Marie if there is anything she wanted. Marie replied in a needful voice, "There is plenty here I want." Without taking their eyes off each other, they kissed forcefully for the first time. Marie's eyes rolled back into her head as their kiss turned more urgent. Her hands found themselves pulling off the only article of clothing Luke had managed to leave on. She could feel this desire burning so deep, his hands all over her; she just had to have him. She pushed him onto the mattress and started to move her mouth towards his cock. She hesitated slightly and he asked her if she was sure she wanted to do this? Marie's head immediately engulfed the tip of his cock, then further, further, until her mouth was filled with him. She began to notice the wetness between her legs and the need for more. She moved up and down his shaft stroking with her hand. Luke lay back on the bed and groaned every few strokes, just enough to send Marie a little further and further over the edge. She continued licking and sucking him. She loved to suck cock and he was perfect in every way! Taking his balls into her mouth she continued to stroke him with her hand. He became so rock hard that she could hardly fit him in her mouth. 

Luke pulled her up on top of him and told her she was done for now. He then rolled her onto her back and pinned her hands over her head with one of his hands. He began kissing her neck hungrily. Her hips involuntarily began to move and grind on him. He lifted her shirt to expose her breasts. He waited just slightly as the cold air seemed to have more and more of an effect. As her hips swayed, Luke began his assault on Marie's body. She was on fire and could not stop if she wanted to. His lips were so soft yet strong and his hands kept her right where he wanted her. His mouth moved lower and lower devouring everything in site. He let go of her wrists and moved back up to her face. He said he only had one question for her…."Do you want me?" She melted at the question and couldn't resist the look in his eyes as she anxiously and hungrily answers " yes, yes, and yes!" As the smirk appeared on his face, he began to move down again this time pulling off her sweats. As she lay there naked she kind of felt weird. She didn't really know this guy at all, but he makes her feel so good!!! How can someone you don't know push all the right buttons? He kissed around her thighs and then all around her careful to tease and get her reacting. Then without any other warning he plunged his tongue into her wetness pulling her closer to him. She tried to move away as the moment was intense and she wasn't sure if she could handle it but he continued his assault and held her closely to him with his hands. It wasn't long before her bucking eluded him to the fact she was about to cum. Her moans were load and almost surrendering as she cried out. He slowed down the pace in order to let her catch her breath. He kissed her legs, then stomach, then chest, neck. He looked her in the eyes. The need he saw there was unbelievable. She wanted him so badly. She wanted to feel his cock pumping her, commanding her. She wanted to just give in and feel him fucking her very core! She gazed at him wantonly as she asked him to fuck her. 

She didn't have to ask twice. He pulled himself up, and put his cock at the entrance of her pussy and just teased. Watching each other's expressions as they toyed with each other. Not quite penetrating, Luke kissed her passionately for the first time. Marie didn't know what she wanted more, that kiss to continue or him to fuck the hell out of her! As their tongues met Luke slammed into Marie hard. She gasped as he attacked not only her body but her mouth. Their kissing became animalistic and his thrusts became harder with each stroke. The thunder was very loud now and when it thundered it almost silenced her moans of passion. She thrust her hips to meet his cock. He pulled her hands back next to her face and held them there with their hands clasped. His strength took over her spirit and he fucked her with everything he had. She was now his at that moment in time. She wanted him and he had his cock taking her over, with no mercy. Anything he would ask of her…she would do. Her control was gone, she couldn't say no to him and he knew it. Their eyes locked both filled with desire and wants. Both being sucked in by the lustful need in each other's eyes.

Luke's moans became louder and his pumping more urgent. He let go of Marie's hands and grabbed her shoulders. He pumped hard and straight into her as his cock exploded. Marie could feel the intense burning and explosion which sent her over the edge once again. He collapsed on top of her as their bodies adjusted and slowed down from spasm. He lifted up and kissed her on the mouth. They both opened their eyes and gazed in amazement. Still not soft, Luke moved slightly inside Marie which sent tingling sensations through her whole body. She closed her eyes and groaned. Luke smiles at Marie and asks her what her favorite position was? She playfully responds "doggie" as she thrusts upwards on his cock.

Luke tells Marie she is his for the night. She will do it as many times as he wants, do what ever he says, and will not resist. She submissively shakes her head yes. As the thunder subsides, it starts to rain harder. He asks her if she is willing to be his…just for tonight? As his mouth closes in on hers, she faintly says I am already yours, take me.

To be continued... 



The Thunder Rolls



It was the thunder that woke us up. It was pretty loud. Shook the whole room. I could tell you were awake from your breathing. It startled me a little when you started to move. I thought you would just go back to sleep. I looked over as you sat up, swinging your legs out from the covers and putting your feet on the floor. Your beautiful hair was a mess from the pillow. You reached down and picked up your robe. You put it on, and reached around to your neck to get your hair out from under it. I don't get why you even bother with that robe. It's so shear that it can't keep any heat in, or stop the cold from coming in, but I know you like it, and you know I think you look damn sexy in it. You stand up, and walk over to the window. You push the curtains open, and pull the blinds up. You lean over putting your hands on the window sill. The rain is pounding against the window. The thunder is almost continuous. Every time the lighting flashes, I can see your outline through your robe. God, you are gorgeous. Just your silhouette is turning me on. 

I get up and walk up behind you. You must have known I was awake cause I didn't startle you at all when I put my hands on your hips.

"Hell of a storm, huh?" I say. 

"Mmmm hmmm", is your only reply. I slowly run my hands up your back to your shoulders, and start to rub a little. The lightning flashes again, and I can see your reflection in the window. Your eyes are closed, and there's a slight grin on your face. I know you love it when I rub your back. I move down to your shoulder blades, and add a little more force. Your robe is so thin, it might as well not even be there. A moan escapes your lips, and you push back against me. You start to rub your ass against me. This time it's me that lets out a moan. I don't have anything on, and the fabric from your robe and panties feels quite nice rubbing against my cock. You can feel me getting hard. I bring my hands back down to your hips, and lean back a little, pushing against you just as hard as you push against me. I'm hard as a rock now, and your movements are causing me to slide over the thin fabric that's separating us. I reach up to your neck and slowly pull the robe down. Your stand up straight and let it fall to the floor. You put your hands on the window. It suddenly crosses your mind that if anyone else is looking out of their windows, they'll be able to see you every time the lighting flashes. It's a pretty remote chance, but the thought excites you a little more. My hands are rubbing up and down your back. You feel so damn good. I reach around you and cup your breasts. Your nipples are like hard diamonds. I pinch them a little and you moan again. I slide one hand down over your panties and find you soaking wet and very warm. I push them to the side and place my hand over your pussy, sliding my middle finger between your lips. I rub your clit a little and then slide down. As my finder slides inside you, the lightning flashes brightly, and your head flies back.

"Oh yesssssss," you say as I continue to rub you. When I take my hand out, you look at me over your shoulder. I smile as I bring my finger to my lips. I lick your essence from my finger, and it's intoxicating. You know I love the way you taste, and all I want right now is to throw you on that bed, and bury my face in your pussy, but as I open my eyes and remove my finger, I see there's a different need written on your face. I slide my fingers under the band of your panties and push them down your legs and to the floor. You hang your head down as you spread your legs a little. You push your stomach to the floor and raise your ass, presenting yourself to me. I don't need any more encouragement.

I slide my cock along your crevice getting it nice, wet, and warm. Apparently you get impatient, cause you reach down between us and grab me, pointing me right where you want me to go. I start to slide inside you, and just as the head slips in, I slam myself against your ass. You have to put your hand back on the window so your head doesn't slam against it.

"Oh, fuck yeah, do it, FUCK ME!" you scream. I grab a hold of your hips and start to pull you towards me as I slam into you over and over again. You look so damn hot every time the lightning flashes, pushing against the window. There's a loud smack every time my body slaps against yours. One time I stop, and get on my toes so I can get deeper into you. I slowly grind myself deeper and deeper until my legs hurt from straining so hard. I slide out and back away from you.

"Wh, what?" you say as I grab your shoulders and spin you around. I kiss you hard and deep as we back up towards the bed. I step out from in front of you, and push you towards the bed. You get the idea, and crawl up on it staying on your knees. The room lights up from a bolt again, and I get a glimpse of you in front of me on your knees. So fuckin' sexy. You wiggle your ass a little bit, and I smile. You put your head down on the sheets as I step up behind you. I slide into you again. This time it's much easier to go deep inside you. You're so fuckin hot inside. I slide almost all the way out and slam back inside. Again and again and again. You're screaming something but I can't make it out cause of the sheets. My legs are still hurting, so I push you forward a little as I crawl on the bed behind you. I enter you again, but this time I sit back on my feet and lean back a little. You realize I've given you control, and you rise up and bit and slam yourself back down on me. You start to bounce on me, up and down, up and down. I love the view I have of your ass bouncing up and down. I start to feel the end approaching, but I can tell that you're almost there to. Your rhythm is starting to falter a little, and you're grinding down on me more and more with every down stroke. I reach in front of me and grab your ass. I spread you open, stretching you wide. Your head flies back and you moan loudly as you start to bounce on me harder now. Harder and harder. I can't take it any more and I yell as I cum deep inside you. Shot after shot explodes from my cock. The heat of my cum must have been the last straw for you. You tense up hold your breath, and stop moving. As if on cue, a crash of thunder erupts, and the lighting is brighter than ever. 

"Oh my god," you say as you start to move again. Little squeaks escape your lips every time you hit bottom. Finally you sit up with me still inside you. You reach behind you and grab your hair wishing you had a hair tie. I reach around you and grab your tits again, but you slap my hands away. Your nipples are VERY sensitive after you cum, and I love trying to mess with them. Finally you rise up off of me. I fall over on my side, and you crawl up next to me. We kiss, slowly, passionately. 

"I think the storms over," I say.

"It wouldn't wake me up anyway now," you reply smiling at me. You roll over and back up against me. I bring the blanket up over us and put my arm over you. You back your ass up a little until my cock in resting between your legs, and then you sigh, and close your eyes. I kiss the back of your neck as one more bolt of lighting lights up the room again.



The Thunder Rolls



Hi everyone!

This is my contribution to the 2010 Literotica Summer Lovin' Contest. As the title indicates, it's based (very loosely) on the song by Garth Brooks of the same title. It's just a short little piece, but I hope you'll take the time to read and vote.

Thanks!

======

He knew he shouldn't have gone. It invited nothing but trouble to his already rocky marriage, but he had to set things right. Running his hand over his face, he drove out of the small diner and prayed she'd understand why he did what he did.

As he approached the small town of Walled Lake, Michigan where he lived, he glanced around. It looked like a ghost town. He'd listened to the weather reports earlier, predicting severe thunderstorms in the area. 

Stopping at a light, he rolled down the window to allow the warm summer night air to flow into the car. Turning his gaze toward the sky, he saw there was no moon. It was probably hidden by the storm clouds. A warm breeze rustled his short brown hair. The illumination from the traffic light highlighted the worry lines on his face. 

Turning his attention toward the road, the blue glow of the clock on his dashboard caught his attention. 3:30 a.m. He just hoped she was sleeping and he could slip inside and deal with the repercussions of his most recent trip in the morning.

When he stopped at the next light, the heavens opened and an onslaught of rain pummeled his car. He quickly rolled up the window, turned on his windshield wipers and hit the lever for his turn signal. He drove down the street where his house was, feeling his heart thunder in his chest when he saw his house. Every light looked to be burning brightly.

A loud clap of thunder had him flinching and sending a silent prayer heavenward. He knew the storm brewing outside was nothing compared to what he was about to face.

****

She knew she should've changed to meet him, but she didn't care. She'd worried for the past twenty minutes, hearing the rain slash across the windows of the small ranch-style house.

In her anxiety, she'd managed to turn just about every light in the house on. She really hoped he wasn't where she'd thought he was, but the nagging feeling wouldn't leave her. She just hoped it was the weather that kept him out all night.

Clenching her fists in the faded flannel gown she was wearing, she paced nervously, feeling her heart thunder against her ribs when she saw his car pull slowly into the driveway.

Rushing out to greet him, heedless of the pouring rain, she pulled him into an embrace. When she smelled a slight hint of perfume, she masked her anger, just thankful he was alive. 

Breaking their embrace, she turned and headed into the house without a word to him. Once inside she pushed her long brown hair out of her face, doing her best to conceal her anger. When she heard the screen door close behind her, she turned to face him.

"You were with someone else." It wasn't a question.

"Yes, but not in the way you think." He set down his briefcase and took off his jacket. Draping it over a hook near the door he approached her. "You never believed me when I told you I never cheated on you."

She stood glaring at him with her hands on her hips. "That's because every time you return from one of your business trips, you reek of cheap perfume. What am I supposed to think?"

Frustration and anger consumed him. "Goddammit! I've never cheated on you! Why can't you get that through your head?"

"Oh really? Then who was the woman who called here two weeks ago?"

"I already told you. She was a co-worker wanting to know about the convention."

"Sure." She sighed. "And I asked you before, why couldn't she just get the information at work? Why did she have to call you?" 

When he didn't answer, she turned again and made her way toward the bedroom. He followed, removing his tie and thinking of a way to convince her what he said was true.

"What'll it take to convince you I'm not lying?"

"I don't know. I really don't. Every time you come back from one of your business trips, you seem different. Distant somehow." 

He sighed. "It's not because I'm having an affair. It's because I'm tired and I'm stressed. You know how much my boss piles on me. I can't handle things as it is, and he piles more on me."

"Then ask him to give you some help."

"I did."

"And?"

"The perfume you smell? It's my new assistant's."

Heading toward the en suite bathroom, he began unbuttoning his shirt. "I need a shower." 

She scoffed, knowing he'd essentially blocked out any further conversation. Turning toward the dresser, she paused in front of the mirror. Glancing at her reflection, she didn't like what she saw. Her wet hair was plastered to her head and the old flannel gown she was wearing was soaked and stuck to her body, accentuating her curvaceous figure. Her green eyes were dull and lifeless. She was tired of fighting with him all the time.

Opening the drawer, she ran her finger over the cold steel of the pistol tucked in the corner. Turning her attention back to her reflection, she whispered, "He won't do this again. Tonight will be the last time I'll wonder where he's been."

Pulling out the pistol, she carefully opened the cylinder and loaded bullets into each chamber. Giving it a spin, she flicked the cylinder closed and turned toward the bathroom. She could hear the shower running and his soft humming.

Her heart ached, knowing he didn't love her anymore and knowing she could lose any chance at happiness with him if she did what she'd planned to do with the gun.

Moving toward the bathroom, she fought the tremors in her hand as she reached for the knob and pushed the door open. Taking a step into the bathroom, she called out his name before pulling back the pale blue plastic shower curtain. He obviously hadn't heard her call out to him. His back was to her and he didn't turn around.

With a trembling hand, she brought the gun up and slowly brought back the hammer. Before she could complete the motion, a deafening clap of thunder rolled through the sky, plunging the house into darkness.

****

Two weeks later...

"Come here," he said, watching as she sashayed by, swinging her hips seductively in front of him.

They were on the back porch of their house, enjoying the cooler weather that had been in the area for the past couple of weeks. The massive storm they'd had two weeks ago had brought with it a cool front.

She turned to face him, smiling as she approached and seeing the complete look of love in his deep blue eyes. Remembering back to two weeks earlier, she couldn't believe what she'd thought of doing, based solely on her suspicions.

When the power had gone out, she'd lost her courage to take matters into her own hands. She'd dropped the gun to the floor and fled the bathroom before he could see her and what she'd planned to do. He'd found the gun, with the safety still on, and had returned it to its spot in the dresser drawer, the bullets carefully removed. He'd never said anything to her, instead, disposing of the gun and working to win back her trust.

They'd spent the better part of the past two weeks patching up their marriage. She'd given him another chance to explain himself. While he still wasn't sure what to say to convince her, he was determined to get her to believe him. In the midst of their heated discussion, a phone call came in. It was the woman who'd been his assistant. 

In a feeble attempt to trap him, his assistant had claimed he'd gotten her pregnant. When his wife learned of this, she'd told the woman off and promptly fell into his arms, sobbing and begging his forgiveness. She'd known then how foolish she was to doubt him. He'd had a vasectomy a year previous, so there had been no possible way for him to get anyone pregnant. She knew even though he still could have had an affair, he wouldn't have. 

Now it was early August, and even though he'd quit his job for obvious reasons, they were hosting a huge party in their backyard. Part of the reason was to celebrate their renewed love. They both watched as the neighbor kids played and laughed in the small above ground pool they'd set up.

She took his hand when he reached for her and she squealed when he pulled her into his lap. Claiming her lips in a heated kiss, he whispered promises of endless pleasure once the party was over.

"Get a room you two!" one of the neighbors called out.

They both turned to see several grinning faces. The man tending to the barbecue grill gave a quick wave, then turned his attention back to the burgers and dogs on the grill.

"Did I ever tell you who I dreamt of every night while I was away?" he asked when she turned her attention back to him.

Wrapping her arms around his neck, she leaned in to kiss him. "No, who?"

"You, of course. You're my fantasy woman. I love you with all my heart."

She wiggled her bottom over him and felt the proof of his desire for her. "I love you, too. What do you say we ditch all these people and you take me to bed?" she asked, nibbling on his ear.

He didn't answer her. Instead, he rose to his feet and cradled her against him. He chuckled when he felt a few raindrops hit his face.

As he turned to glance up at the sky, a loud boom of thunder rolled through the air. The sound reminded him now how unpredictable summer weather could be and of what he'd almost lost. Never again would he take for granted of the love of the woman in his arms.

===

Thanks for reading. Don't forget to vote and be sure to read and vote on the other entries in the contest!



The Thunder Storm



This is my first attempt at writing erotica and it is completely fiction. I do not condone incest in any shape or form. But this story is between two consenting non-blood related adults. 

My name is Annie and I am a healthy, red blooded, adult female and for years I have had a secret desire to have sex with Pete, my step father. I'm not deprived or sick, I just love this man and want to experience the ultimate expression of love with him and so my story begins. 

My mother and Pete had been married for the past fifteen years, since I was four. Pete was always very warm and loving toward me. He never made me feel as If I didn't belong to him. I was very fortunate to have not only a biological father who gave me life, but also a Dad that gave me his love and guidance. 

For years I have had this fixation for him. I never let him know and in reality nothing ever came of my feelings. Pete was a good man; I think the last of his breed. He was a man of honor who would never violate the trust that he had established with me and I would never ask him too. So this is my fantasy of what might have happened between us had he crossed that line. 

My mother was an awesome woman, but she drank a too much, but we loved her in spite of it. The three of us always had a close relationship and I was her only child. We did a lot of cool stuff together as I was growing up; we went camping and fishing in the summer time. And during the winter months we went snow skiing and sledding.

Pete worked as a supervisor for a local construction company. He had a good relationship with his men; there wasn't anything he would not do for them. If they gave him an honest day's work, he made sure that they got an honest day's pay. His crew had finished up the project that they had been working on early, so he bought them all a couple rounds at Kelly's to celebrate and then headed home.

It had been ages since he had been able to make it home in the day light hours. He turned off the AC and rolled down all the windows and enjoyed the feel of the beautiful spring afternoon as the wind ripped through the cab of his truck. He pulled into our drive way and his world came crashing down around his feet. He walked into the house and found my mother dead. 

I arrived home from work to find the street full of police cars and an ambulance parked in the driveway. Pete met me outside and would not let me go inside. He told me what had happened, how he had found my mother still in bed. She had apparently died of an overdose of sleeping pills and alcohol. 

During the next couple of years we turned to each other for comfort, but there was never anything sexual between us at that time. I continued to live in the house that I had shared with them as I grew up. I didn't really ever have any thoughts of moving out. But my fantasy's about Pete continued and spilled over into my dreams. Many a night I awoke and found myself breathless from an erotic dream I'd had.

Yesterday it had been hot, too hot for this time of the year; the mercury hit ninety-eight with eighty percent humidity. After dinner we did the dishes and retired to our rooms for the night. I had just got out of the shower and threw one of Pete's tee-shirts on. I went into my room and opened my window. Outside a thunder storm had spring up, it looked to be a doozie.

I knocked on Pete's bedroom door and walked into his room. He was reading in bed. He loved a good storm as much as I did. I loved his room; he had these amazing French doors that opened out to a private balcony. Tonight he had the windows open letting in the wind and fresh air. 

He knew that storms didn't frighten me, so he was a bit surprised to see me standing there in his tee-shirt. "What up?" he asked his eyes taking in every inch of me.

"I just want to spend some time with you," I said and then added. "Do you mind?"

"No, just give me a minute to put on some pj bottoms,"

Here is the place where I get a bit bold. "That won't be necessary," I said as I pulled the tee-shirt over my head and walked to his bed and climbed in beside him completely naked. My hair was still wet from my shower; I had combed it out and left it down. 

He was a bit more then stunned, but he didn't tell me to leave. I took the book from his hands and tossed it on the floor. I reached across his body, my breast rubbing against his chest as I turned out the light. There was a wonderful lighting storm going on outside and with each flash of white light that tore across the night sky the bedroom was illuminated in a few seconds of bright light.

"What are you doing Annie?" he asked.

"Something that I have wanted to do for the past two years," I said as I straddled him and kissed his lips.

I felt his hands go around to my backside and rest on my ass and then he cupped each side in his big calloused hands. I shivered as his cock began to stir under me. I broke off the kiss and kissed the side of his neck, my teeth nipping as I made my way back up to his lips. I kissed him again and I felt his arms go around me and pull me close. 

He returned my kiss gently at first and then as his passion grew the intensity of his kiss grew hotter. I felt his cock grow and lengthen beneath me. I drew my arms around his neck and he rolled over and I found myself pinned beneath him. I delighted in the feel of his weight as he lay between my legs. He moved down my body and took one of my nipples into his mouth and began to suckle. A tremendous feeling of pleasure spread through me, making me tingle. I wanted him to touch me, to make me crazy even crazier than I already was. 

He suckled my other breast and I couldn't help myself, I couldn't stop my body from moving and squirming under him, I had never felt the likes of what he was doing to me before. I wanted to laugh and cry at the same time, he was driving me out of my mind.

Then he reached down between us and touched that forbidden place that I had let no other go before him and I shattered into a million little pieces as my orgasm ripped through me. He wasn't finished with me yet, he continued to touch and rub until I screamed out his name and I broke apart again. He let me recover for a moment, but no longer. 

He moved farther down my body and his tongue traced a circle around my belly button. He moved lower leaving a fiery hot path as his lips traveled downward. His tongue touched me between my legs and I felt him draw my throbbing clitoris in-between his teeth. I lay there beneath him with my hands fisted into the bed sheets. He pulled and lick between the folds of skin that hid the treasure he sought. My body began to tremble and I tried to close my legs, but he wouldn't have it. He forced them open with his hands as his mouth continued to work its magic. I was out of my mind. He pushed his tongue deep inside me, as he tongue fucked me over and over again. He feasted on me and he took me to a place where I stood teetering on the edge of a deep dark abyss, he had me ready to plummet over the edge. 

He let go of my knees and moved back up to my breasts and drew one of my nipples into his mouth. And as he sent fervent waves of ecstasy crashing through me, I reached for him and felt him grow long and ridged in my hand. He had me at his mercy, I wanted to feel him deep within me, but he made me wait. I began to stroke him faster and with a feral cry he spread my legs and mounted me, plunging deep inside me until his balls slapped up against my ass with one hard thrust. 

A searing pain ripped me from my desire induced fog and I thought he was going to tear me in two. But my pain was short lived and each time he moved the pain was replaced with the intense desire I had felt before until I could take no more and I cried out his name. I heard my own name echo in my ears as he fell with me into that deep abyss and as his body trembled and shook, I felt him spill his hot seed deep within me. Lightening raced across the sky as he collapsed on top of me. He lay there panting, he started to rise up on his arms, but I pulled him back down. I didn't want him to move.

"Don't move. Please don't move I love the feel of you lying between my legs. Oh God that was amazing... can we do it again?" 

I got my answer. I felt him chuckle as he began to grow and fill me again. But this time the wild passion of abandonment was replaced by the slow burning desire of love. He suckled me and we touched each other more slowly this time. He rolled over and I found myself on top, his cock hard and pushed deep inside me. I began to move my hips slowly. It was my turn to make him crazy. 

After word we lay exhausted in each others arms and let sleep over took us. The storm that had been within, had been subdued and quenched, but the storm beyond the French doors raged on into the night. During the twilight hours we awoke to the sound of the soft rain falling outside. I turned in his arms and there in the damp air of the early morning, we once again made love. 

The attraction that had been there all those years ago is still with us some fifteen years later. Pete and I married and we have three beautiful children. Every time the evening sky turns dark and the wind kicks up, we smile and fondly remember that first storm that brought us together.



The Thunderborn's Destiny



The final inking cut into his flesh, and the stalwart barbarian didn't even grimace in pain, though a lesser man might have. Grinning instead, Gundor the Hammer clenched his fist. The ink-maiden--a shaman of the Tribe of the Thunderbeast--had infused the ink and her drawing with mystical power, and Hammer could feel the enchantment seeping into his flesh, becoming a part of him. As he held his fist clenched, he could feel a sensation of hardness and power flow into the bones and muscle therein.

Grinning, he used his other hand to slide around the back of the woman's neck, pulled her in close and kissed her savagely. She returned the kiss with equal fury, gnashing down hard on his lip. Laying back on a pile of furs, the naked barbarian spread his muscular thighs and clasped his hands behind his head. The ink-maiden coiled around his muscular body, fingers and fingernails dragging across lightly-haired, chiseled flesh. He looked up at the sky, the dark clouds masking the twinkling stars and the gleaming moon. He could smell the storm brewing, and he knew his mate could too.

Vyathan bit down hard, her teeth digging into the thin skin over his ribs at his side, causing him to wince reflexively. He grasped her hair and she glared at him with feral defiance. It was an aspect of her being that he adored and respected. 

Heart pounding in his chest, he heaved her atop him, and the shaman's muscular, sleek body immediately began to gyrate, panther-like grace grinding down on his manhood as her musk filled the air. He bit her lip, kissed her, and bit again.

She reached down, her hand gripping his surging manhood, and promptly sheathed him within her loins. Hammer had learned the difference between the women of his clan and normal human women. This was their third lovemaking in as many hours. Her pace was vigorous and without quarter. A city-dwelling maiden would have been passed out, snoring in contentment after her first bout with him, but, imbued with the primal spirits of their land, Vyathan was a vigorous and eager as their first grunting, sweating, violent bout of lovemaking.

The barbarian felt the storm surging in the sky before her saw the first flashes of lightning. It invigorated him, and with a sudden surge of strength, he lifted his trunk upward, grasping Vyathan with large, strong, calloused hands by her hips, tucked his feet under his hips, and stood upright. Her hands gripped his boulder shoulders and she fell back, looking up at the sky. His head fell back, dark brown hair falling down around his shoulder blades as he thrust with his hips, jerking the shaman up and down as she laid back, suspended by strong arms and vice-like thighs around his powerful hips.

Lightning struck, perhaps drawn by their mutual primal attunement mingled together in the heat of passion, and split a sapling nearby, igniting it in flames. The thunder that followed was loud and cracked the air and sent shocks of force through both of their bodies. Hammer and Vyathan cried out in the sudden pain that thundered in their bodies, a pain that was quickly transformed into pure, electric bliss. 

Still thrusting, still jolting her body, Hammer felt his blood electrify, felt the promise of the storm filling his primal soul. He pulled the shaman to his face, her eyes reflecting the his own, and they gnashed at each others lips and tongues, their kiss as savage as their lovemaking.

Lightning struck again, very close by this time, and their body hair stood on end from the latent static energy. Hammer felt his climax surging forth, but held it at bay with an effort of will. He'd be damned before he let himself spend before his mate. Luckily, she was close by. As if drawn by her impending climax, the rain began to pelt them, as if to douse their passion. Instead, it was like fuel to a fire, and when Vyathan's dusky-skinned body began to shudder in climax, Hammer used one hand to grasp her black hair and pin her against the hilt of his shaft. She clamped down, and he released, a torrent of molten virility pumping into his mate as her quivering body slapped and pummeled his own.

And when the thundering climax faded, the sky only wept rain upon their sweating, heaving bodies, gasping for breath. The thunder was a distant rumble, and the lightning a distant flash.

So distant, it seemed, that Hammer and Vyathan thought that, perhaps, they only perceived it nearby in the throes of passion.

Hammer grinned, his chest twitching with rumbling laughter as he knelt and laid the woman down beside him. Curling and purring against him, the shaman was slow to doze off.

Perhaps she knew what would come next, perhaps not. Either way, both were unarmored and effectively defenseless.

The ensuing flurry of chaos had creatures both large and smelly surrounding them and barking in a harsh, guttural language. Hammer shoved Vyathan off his body and leapt to his feet, immediately regretting his lack of weapon and hide armor. Vyathan pounced up as well, unbothered by her rough removal as she reached out to the primal spirits. A solid, wet thunk accented a creature's--Hammer recognized them all as bugbears--sentence, and Vyathan collapsed. Her spared her a glance, and that was all he needed to ignite his fury. Blood oozed from the back of her skull, and a dark rock laid beside her, spattered with her blood. 

Rage unlike anything he'd felt before filled his veins. Naked and coated in rain and sweat, the barbarian charged the nearest bugbear, one that was laughing and poking a fat finger toward his mate. Without thought, he clamped down on the beast's forearm and bit the finger off. He spat, the foul blood in his mouth just long enough to give him a taste, and the finger went flying. Blood trickled off his lips and over his chin as he pulled the bugbear by the arm toward him, bringing his forehead into the hairy beast's face. Nose and jaw cracked, the bugbear grunting as Hammer bull rushed it to the ground. He rode the beast down, then leapt up, stamping down savagely on its cracked face. He turned in time to catch a heavy punch to the side of his head and, for a moment, the world was all blinking stars and swimming images. 

His rage shoved dizziness aside. He lowered his shoulder into the shaggy goblinoid and, muscles straining, he wrapped his arms around its waist, lifted it up onto his shoulder, and slammed it head-first into the wet ground. A sickening crack signaled its broken neck, and it lay there limply. 

But surprise was no longer on his side. He turned and saw more bugbears, all armed and stalking toward him. Rage overruled reason and he leapt for a sword-wielding bugbear. The blade knifed across his chest and stomach, rending flesh, but he ignored the pain by some feat of primal fury. He bit down on the bugbears neck, tearing savagely at the flesh and spit out gobs of gore. Blood--his own and the beasts--coated his chest and stomach, dripping down past his hips and thighs as the bugbear thrashed against him. He took the beast's sword out of its dying hand and leapt blindly to the side, where he hoped a bugbear would be there to greet him.

Rather, a shield stopped him, and the iron barrier slammed into his head and torso, sending him sprawling to the ground.

*****

Ellyet Ironsong's chest was rising and falling with a pace indicative of moderate exertion. The slaughtering of bugbears was not an overly difficult task for him and his cohorts, the League of the Falcon, and was also pleasurable business.

But they were not in it for free. He knelt and drew a long, curved knife, severing a misshapen ear from one of the husky beasts. He put it in a pouch and grinned at the other men and women doing the same. A dozen in all, the League had been roaming this part of the High Forest, near Grunwald, for nearly a year now, and had made good money from the town's officials keeping beasts such as these away. 

However, he'd always made it his business to keep his bounty hunters away from the barbarian tribes that inhabited this region of the High Forest. He wanted no quarrel with them, and was pleased that, until now, he'd not run across any.

But now there was an unconscious man and woman in his midst, the latter likely dead, by virtue of the vicious head injury she'd suffered. The man was covered in blood. More blood than Ellyet had seen in his long, elven years. Brushing his thick chestnut hair back over his pointed ears, he walked over the kneeling woman between the barbarians. 

"Well?" he asked. His voice was musical even in the context of a single word demand. 

"She has a pulse, but I don't know for how much longer. The male is quite alive, just unconscious. You must have struck him hard. He was clearly under the influence of rage and fury when he turned on you."

"I'm not sure I was his target," Ellyet said, "at least, not for long. He didn't look before leaping."

The woman, called Lark, murmured a prayer that sent rosy light coursing along her forearm and into the barbarian, restoring him. He sucked in a deep breath, sat bolt upright, and looked around frantically. He stood up and cast about, looking for enemies.

The fellows of the League of the Falcon tried to hide their laughter as the bare naked barbarian's manhood swung about like a fleshy war-mace.

Lark had already turned to the fallen woman, though, and it wasn't until the man was at her side that she paid him any heed.

"Please, give space," she said, putting a warm hand on his bare shoulder. Blood dripped from the contours of his body, some getting on the shaman's skin even as the rain did its best to wash the thick stuff off.

"Vyathan," he said, his voice low and rumbling, like a distant storm. He ignored the cleric and put hands on the woman's face. He bent and kissed her forehead, then her lips before backing a few inches away.

Lark murmured prayer after prayer, sending rosy and golden light into the fallen shaman. Her head wound was already closed, but the amount of blood that soaked into the earth was more than the priestess had seen in years. 

She said one last prayer, gripping an ivory-and-ruby pendant in her hand hard enough to cause pain, and thrust the medallion against the naked woman's breast. She shouted the prayer, frustration and emotion surging forth.

The shaman drew a ragged breath.

"Hammer," she said in a weak, breathy voice.

Lark skittered away and Hammer fell over the shaman, holding her face and staring down into her eyes. He could feel the bloody earth beneath her and said a silent prayer to his ancestral spirits as his lips lashed Vyathan's.

"I'm here," he whispered.

"The ancestors are calling me," she murmured, lips grazing his stubbly cheek as she pulled him tight. "They are calling me home, Hammer."

Tears welled up in his eyes. His body shuddered as sorrow washed over him. Then came a sensation of joy for his mate. She was going home. 

"You are going home," he said, his voice deep and strong suddenly. He held her face, and she smiled, her eyes glittering with tears and rainwater. 

"I'm glad it ended this way," she breathed. "In passion, in battle, in fury, in rage. I saw you fight for me, avenging me before things went black. Maybe my spirit saw it all."

She coughed, and he held her tight.

"I would have killed them all a thousand times over," he growled in her ear. Smiling, she nodded.

"Do not weep for me," she gasped. Thunder boomed overhead and lightning struck several times close by. Men and women scurried for cover, but Hammer knelt over his mate, unmoved, for the lightning and the thunder were a part of him. He held her face, stared into her eyes, his lips over hers as she breathed her last breath.

He took it in, savoring the taste of her last breath, and then reared back like a thunderbeast from eons past, roaring his fury, his anguish, his joy, his sorrow, all into the heavens. The storm responded with a peel of thunder that should have deafened him. 

And then all was silent. He leaned over, closed her eyes and kissed each one, then stood to face Ellyet and Lark.

They stared at him agog, and he simply walked away.

*****

They couldn't understand, anyway.

Hammer felt a part of him die. Vyathan was right. This was the best way for it to happen. In combat, even abbreviated combat, was where all Thunderbeast barbarians wished to die. By the ancestors, it was where all barbarians wished to die.

He only wished he could have gone with her.

The thought stopped him in his tracks. A fury that only dwelt in his own soul blossomed, angered by that thought. It was his lot to live on, and so he would live on! He would fight, he would love again, he would die when the gods demanded it, and he would brook no complaints about any of it. Vyathan had been older than him by several years. She'd lived longer and seen more. By all rights, she had lived her life fully and freely, kneeling to none and fighting the world. It was an honorable life, and it was an honorable death.

Hammer found himself smiling. It was a lopsided grin that he'd used to charm the shaman in the first place. He'd not taken for granted any moment he'd had with her, lived each one as fully and passionately as he could, and there was nothing more he could have wanted.

The tall, muscular barbarian took a deep breath, then turned to see the elf and woman staring at him still.

"What," he asked flatly, a bit annoyed with them.

"I understand your mourning, but--"

"I mourn not, woman," he snapped at her. She looked surprised, but not hurt by his brusqueness. Hmm.

"Then I don't understand, but regardless," she held up some overlarge pants and a tunic. "You can't come back to Grunwald in the nude."

"I am a son of the Tribe of the Thunderbeast," he said, "and I will do as I please."

"Then you can't fight more of these bastards in the nude," the elf said. The barbarian gave him a hard stare, then grinned.

"Take heed, woman, on how to speak to a barbarian," he said, taking the clothes and dressing. By this point, most of the blood had been washed away, and his wound, closed by Lark's healing magic, was just a ragged, if thin scar across his torso. To his surprise, the auburn-haired woman was smirking at him.

"I am Captain Ellyet Ironsong, commander of the League of the Falcon. We work for the people of Grunwald, cleansing the surrounding region of monsters such as these. I would take you there for further healing, make sure you're fit for returning home."

"I will not return home," the barbarian said. "I am Hammer Thunderbeast, or simply Hammer, and I left my tribe under the influence of a vision. My mate and I left a tenday ago, wandering this forest searching for a sign. Now I have found one. I will be joining you."

"Hold on, now," Ellyet said, holding his hand up. "We're not hiring. Find another group to join, but you're not hunting with us."

"Then I will hunt alone until you decide the competition is too great. Take me to Grunwald."

Ellyet gave the woman at his side an amused look, and she pursed her lips in a little smirk.

*****

Grunwald was a sparse town. Being effectively a frontier village, it had all the things it needed and very little of the things it didn't need. Hammer knew immediately this was not his destination, but rather another campsite on the path to his destiny. The Falconers led him around, introduced him to the mayor, who was less than pleased to have an Uthgardt barbarian in his realm, and some of their employers, be they priests or farmers plagued by marauders. 

It wasn't until they'd come to the tavern, a quaint establishment with a robust proprietess, that he saw the Falconers come alive and began to learn more about them. 

Lark, the cleric, was a sunite. She followed the goddess of love, Sune, the Lady Firehair. That, in itself, was a curiosity to the barbarian. Most of his people worshipped Uthgar, Tempus, or Silvanus, gods of war or primal spirits, or the like. Useful gods. Not petulant, whimsical gods. But still, he was certain Sune's followers would be worth knowing, if the goddess herself was not. In the tavern she wore little more than a loose white blouse with a rose pendant and tight black breeches with knee-high boots. She wore a dagger, though it was more perfunctory defense than anything truly functional. 

Their captain, Ellyet, maintained an air of discipline, or perhaps that was just his elven nature. He seemed to prefer tighter garments that left him more flexible, and, for some reason, had no eyes for any of the pretty lasses ferrying drinks, or for Lark, even. That astonished the barbarian, who grew up with men lusting after women and vice versa. Perhaps he simply wasn't interested.

One of the scouts, a handsome man who was quite entertained by ladies on a nearly constant basis also caught his attention. He sported a leather vest that was more fashionable than functional, and tight leather pants with an accented cod-piece. Hammer was certain the man wore it only as a bluff, but the way the women kept patting it...

"Hammer," Lark said, putting a hand on his forearm. She'd imbibed more than a little cormyrean brandy, and her eyes were a-twinkle and speech a touch slurred. "Do you miss your...your mate?"

"I miss her company," he said, his voice deep. He'd found the clothes given to him were too tight around his arms and had sliced them off halfway down his upper arm. The formerly clean cut was now ragged, thread dangling here and there. The dark hair on his arms caught the threads and Lark's hand tickled those on his forearm. He had also cut the neck of the shirt to fit better around his neck and open up down to his broad, barrel chest. "But I do not mourn her. It is not our way. She is with the ancestors now."

"Some would say she's with Kelemvor," Lark said, then blushed. Her fair-skinned face turned pinkish. "Kelemvor is Lord of the Dead. He makes sure all the souls that pass on, well, pass on. He fights undeath."

"I have fought undead," he replied. "A foe with no honor, no fear, no courage, and no skill. They seek only to serve their base needs. They are not worth dying for, but must be extinguished."

"Does love still have a place in your heart?" Lark asked, abruptly changing the subject. It set him back a bit, but Hammer mere grinned as she edged a bit closer. Having abstained from drink, as he had all his life, he felt no sense of inebriation, but the heady scent of the woman's fragrance and the feel of her warm skin...

"There is a void that must be filled by it, yes. It was vacated when Vyathan left."

Lark seemed to pause at that, but her grip on his forearm tightened just slightly. "I don't mean to impose, but--"

"You wish to see if I've room in my heart to lay with you," he stated flatly. She gasped in surprise but didn't retreat. He could see the answer in her eyes, but wanted to hear it.

"Yes," she whispered, nodding. She looked around nervously.

"Vyathan often brought other tribeswomen into our bed. They were eager to meet and commune with our tribe's ink-maiden and spirit-speaker, as well as her mate. It was a sacred thing to them. You will not be as Vyathan was, but there is naught keeping me from laying with you."

"Come with me, then," she said quickly, squeezing his forearm. He arched a curious brow at her, but followed her through the open tavern and into the stairwell that led to the second floor. There were several doors lining the halls, and he guessed them to be private rooms. He didn't notice it at first, but there was a creeping sensation that he was being closed off from the world he knew.

The subtle curve of the woman's bottom drew his attention away from that fact, though, and he continued following her. It occurred to him that this human woman was not a barbarian, and perhaps he should be gentle with her. It also occurred that she knew well enough what he was, and seemed to be eager for a true experience with his kind. A grin crawled across his lips as she pushed open a door and shut it behind him. 




The Thunderborn's Destiny



Then, they simply stood there, staring at each other.

"Um..." the woman said, looking nervous again as she looked him up and down. He was head and shoulders taller than she was, and nearly twice as broad in the shoulders. 

Hammer walked forward, put a hand against her cheek, and swept her auburn hair back over her ear. "You wish to see how we do things among the tribes, yes?"

The woman nodded. He bent down and kissed her, softly at first, letting her feel the stubble of his chin and upper lip, the softness of his lips, and the innocent invitation of his tongue. Lark accepted him into her mouth, and let out a soft purr as she tasted him. He began to withdraw from her mouth, but before doing so, bit down on her lower lip, just hard enough to elicit a little shock of pain. 

She winced, but didn't protest verbally.

"The Uthgardt barbarians and the barbarians of the North have few things in common," he said in a low, throaty growl. "Mating is one of them. Our women have taught us well that pain can be as pleasure. It is only a matter of training the mind to translate it. Bite me."

She hesitated, then, leaned up to kiss him as he had kissed her, but a bit more forcefully. Then, she bit down on his lip, experimentally at first. He let out a sigh, but urged her onward with a finger to her chin. She bit harder and harder, until she feared she'd break the skin, and only then did he let out a sigh of utmost contentment. 

Lark felt brave with Hammer now. She reached for his groin and felt the immensity within, burgeoning as she dug her teeth into his lip. That courage was slowly replaced by fear. He wasn't like some of the men in the company, or any of the men she'd slept with in Silverymoon before dashing off on her own, leaving her festhall behind. He was truly large!

The thought thrilled and scared her.

Hammer broke the kiss and stepped away. "Remove your shirt," he said in a tone of voice that brooked no argument. Lark undid her buttons slowly, as if to put on a show, but Hammer intervened. His hands gripped her blouse and tore it asunder. Buttons fell to the floor, leaving her modest, upturned breasts bare and wobbling slightly in the aftermath. "Remove your shirt."

Heat flushed her body, adrenaline fueling her lust as she pulled the garment swiftly away from her shoulders and flung it to the floor. Bared before him, she felt her skin becoming moist with perspiration as the heat of pleasure and a bit of fear--sparked by this unknown force commanding her--welled up within her bosom. Hammer then doffed his own shirt, baring a heroic chest, boulder-like shoulders, arms the size of some of the company-men's legs, and a sparsely-haired, iron-crafted torso that beckoned her hands. The dark hairs were similar to those on his arms, soft and welcoming, but hiding the hard and violent muscle beneath.

She lunged for him, hands gliding over pronounced muscle, thick veins, and soft hairs. He let out a ragged sigh as her fingers curled around the front of his trousers, for her fingertips delved deep underneath, toward his hilt.

"Remove them," he rasped, and Lark, a normally fiery and aggressive woman on the battlefield or in the tavern, looked up with tamed eyes and parted lips, knowing full well that this barbarian would master her in ways she'd never even fathomed. The buttons came apart just as her blouse had. She tugged them hard enough that a few slapped against her body, one against her breast and two against her stomach. Ignoring that, she saw his smirk of satisfaction. 

Gliding her hands around to the sides, gripping his muscular hips, she pushed the pants down slowly, kneeling with them. She kept her gaze up toward his eyes, so when she reached her knees and his pants were down at his ankles, she didn't see the virility fully. 

But when she did, her mouth immediately went dry and her eyes went wide. Staring at his pride with awe and, again, a bit of fear, she slid her nails up his thighs to take it into one hand, just around the root of his cock. It was heavy, even mostly flaccid, and the veins coursing its length belied the size it could grow to. She remembered the shaman lady from earlier, and wondered what she must have felt when he entered her. 

No command came forth from the barbarian towering over her, so she proceeded as she knew how. Lifting the member away from its vertical orientation, she brought the tip toward her face. A hot breath blew from her mouth, across the flesh, and it twitched on contact. She smiled a little, then slid her tongue out, sliding across the underside of his fleshy helm. It tasted as it smelled, musky and intangibly manly, and suddenly saliva was flooding her parched mouth. Closing her lips around the head, she swirled her tongue round and round, giving it slight sucklings in the process.

She heard the barbarian gasp and let out a low, rumbling groan at her attention, and felt him growing in her hand. Soon, it was half again the width of her hand, and still growing, so she began to pump her hand back and forth, slowly as she swirled her tongue around the cockhelm. 

It grew further and further, and his hips began to twitch forward every now and then. She knew from experience he wasn't trying to force it, but was merely reacting reflexively to her attention. Lark also knew how to ease that reflex. Bringing both hands around his impressive, intimidating meat, she butted them up against her mouth and began to slide forward, her hands adding the sensation of him sliding further into her mouth.

Suddenly, strong hands were combing through her hair, pulling it back tight, but not pushing her head in any way. She appreciated that. The sunite had had her share of brutish men take advantage of her oral charms in the past. And with a cock this big in her mouth, she feared what would happen if Hammer turned out to be of similar tastes. 

And, perhaps, he realized she was not accustomed to his size in any way. The thought made them both grin on the inside.

Wet, slurping sounds came from her mouth as his pride slid in and out of her mouth, each time going just a bit further in. Skilled though she was, when the broad head of his member hit the back of her throat, she gagged and had to back off a little, sputtering. She looked up at him with eyes reflecting her apology, and he smiled, stroking her face before lifting her up simply by putting his index finger under her jaw. She stood a foot away from him, but could still feel the heat of his cock near her stomach. She reached out and continued to stroke it.

But Hammer had other ideas. He pushed her back to the bed, sitting her down on the edge and kneeling between her parted thighs. Kissing her, not minding the taste of her mouth after being on his member, his hands deftly undid her pants. Which surprised her, considering how he'd removed her blouse. He took great care in untying the laces and parting them just so, so that he could slip them down effortlessly, revealing her pale, bare thighs and the pinkish, glistening sex between them.

She leaned back, propping herself up on the bed with her hands behind her, and watched the barbarian for a moment. Then he lunged like a hunting cat, his lips taking her throat in his teeth and lips before moving his lips slowly, methodically lower, spanning the width of her shoulders, nibbling her collar bone, and moving onward. Her breasts seemed small compared to the hands that moved to massage them, but that didn't bother her in the least. His mouth pressed into her cleavage, and the stubble on his jaw and cheeks grazed against her breasts in an almost decadent way.

She let out meek little sounds, chirping and whimpering as his skilled, soft lips and agile tongue moved to tease each nipple. He kissed and suckled and nibbled, spiraling around the light pink areola and turgid, impudent nipples. She was panting before he actually touched them with his mouth and let out a rasping moan when finally he nibbled down on them. He spent several moments there, enjoying and savoring each little bud before pushing her back and kissing down the flat expanse of her stomach. 

She wasn't a hard woman, like his last mate perhaps, but she had her charms, she knew. Her stomach was sleek and soon glistening in his saliva as he dined on her flesh, licking and nibbling and rubbing that infuriatingly pleasurable facial hair against her skin. And her scent was rich, floral thanks to a lotion she kept on her skin, and musky with feminine desire.

And when he got there, he wasted no time. Hands sliding up her thighs, he pushed them wide apart when they reached their apex. She felt herself splayed apart, bared before his face, and felt a blush come to her cheeks as he stared at her loins.

Kissing around her vulva, she wondered when he'd get down to business when--Gods of Lust! His tongue pierced her vulva, sliding between her lips in the form of a stiff, fleshy muscle. Her nectar splashed against his tongue, thrilling his sense of taste as her scent thrilled his sense of smell. It wasn't long before he felt the stiff, turgid bud of her clitoris against his tongue. He lavished slow, tender lashes against the gem, then wrapped his lips around the upper half of her vulva, sucking her clitoris between his teeth. He gnashed it lightly, tongue flicking against it and swirling in tight circles.

Her hips bucked and her body heaved as the pleasure, so fresh and exciting, sent sudden heat and gasping pleasure through her body. She could feel her loins gushing her fragrant nectar, and anticipated the feel of his soaked beard against her face, kissing her, smelling and tasting of her...

Her orgasm hit like a thunderbolt, crashing into her so suddenly and abruptly that she could do little else than gasp and choke on her own breath. Her abdomen clenched, bringing her body upright as she gripped his shoulder-length, dark hair and pulled.

The barbarian lifted himself from her gushing loins, sliding his face along the woman's stomach and laying atop her. She could feel his massive, hard length resting against the entrance of her womb, and she instinctively lifted her hips to accept it, her heels digging into his lower back.

"I will not fit," he said, kissing her jaw line. He heard her whispering something and felt a warmth emanate from the woman's loins. 

"You will," she said, and he knew it to be true. He slid in, sliding his member into the incredibly tight passage. Heat and moisture enveloped him, almost sucking his length into her tight passageway. She let out a pained cry, but pulled him in regardless. He felt choked, clenching his jaw and growling a rumbling sound in his throat. It was like thunder rumbling into her body, vibrating her to her core. Her body twitched, and she felt him nearly hilted inside her stretched and strained loins. 

Her throat clenched and restricted her moans to strained cries of pleasure. Spurred on by her kicking heels, the barbarian thrusted consistently, his cock stroking every inner inch of the woman, stretching and battering against the threshold of her cervix. She was in pain and absolute pleasure, and suddenly had a new appreciation for how barbarian women mated. Sweat coated their bodies, and she was begging for his seed before she knew it, eager to feel the primal volume of his virility.

And he obliged. Drawing out of her, he pressed his body down, trapping his cock between her abdomen and his. Holding her face in his hands, he stared into her eyes as his bliss overwhelmed him, firing off thick, rich ropes of seed between their bodies, plastering her stomach and chest against his own. 

She was in Celestia. Every sensation washed over her like a wave of the purest bliss that only the goddess Sharess could imagine. And, content to simply sleep after that, she closed her eyes.

Until she felt Hammer starting to enter her again.

"You should know," he said, smirking, "that barbarians are known for their stamina. You will be getting the fullest experience of primal lovemaking tonight, my Lark."

He thrust in, and this time it was much easier, though still tight as before. 

Lark howled, singing his name into the ceiling with every powerful, filling thrust.

*****

Hammer awoke alone, and the sensations coursing through his body were unlike any he'd known before. He was invigorated, thrilled, nearly bursting with some energy that demanded action. He dressed quickly, further tearing the neck of his tunic in the doing, and bounded down the stairs of the tavern. It was quiet, with only a few patrons, Ellyet Ironsong included, dotting the serving floor. 

The barbarian breezed past him with little more than a greeting.

"Where are you off to," he snapped at the barbarian. Hammer halted and turned about.

"I need a weapon."

"Indeed you do. We're moving out in an hour. Lark has already left to rouse the men," he said, adding a sly smirk at the barbarian. He recognized the look and marched up to the bounty hunter captain. 

"I'll wager she howled my name louder than ever she howled yours," he said in a low, rumbling voice. 

"She never has. I don't work with women."

Hammer stared at him in confusion, then started to scowl. He couldn't understand that. How could a man not desire a woman? They're were so pretty, so strong in their way, some stronger than most men he knew! There was so much to enjoy...

He sighed. "I'm not marching with you. Remember?"

"I remember. I changed my mind. Apparently you impressed Lark with your...resilience and vigor. I've never seen the woman so exhausted in the morning."

He flashed a grin again, then walked away.

"Where are you going?" the captain asked again. 

"I need a weapon," was his only reply. 

The air outside was crisp and cool, invigorating him as he watched his expiration mist in the air before his face. Distinctive as it was, he had a hard time locating the sound of a smiths hammer in the small village, but when he finally did, he was relieved to see a dwarven smithy. Likely from Mithril Hall, a clan of dwarves he'd traded with in the past, he hoped the dwarf could craft what he needed.

"Hail, good dwarf," he said, ducking under the relatively low doorway that led into the closed off shop. 

"Hail yerself, lad," the dwarf growled. "Ain't you a little tiny to be human?"

Hammer grinned. He'd heard the jibe before from dwarves. "Indeed I am. I grow my muscles large to make up for my height disadvantage."

"Much like a dwarf," the stout fellow said, grinning under a soot-covered beard. "What can I do for ye?"

"Do you know how to craft a mordenkrad?" the barbarian asked without hesitation.

The dwarf narrowed his eyes. "Ye're askin' for a dwarf's weapon," the stout fellow said. 

"I understand. A dwarven smith was taken in by my Tribe many years ago and fashioned many weapons for us. Mine was the mordenkrad. I've missed it greatly."

"Well I just so happen to have one in stock, but if I give it to you, you'll have to do something in return. A dwarf doesn't part with his weapons lightly."

The stout fellow reached under his counter and pulled out a cloth wrapped object about five feet in length with a massive head, spikes poking the cloth up at regular intervals on the smashing parts of the hammer's head. Which was to say, all the way around. The dwarf pulled the cloth away, and revealed the sturdy haft of iron, the steel head and the accented spikes.

"Not me best work, but it'll crack skulls for ye," the dwarf said.

"And in return?" the barbarian asked.

"Some o' me weapons been stoled. Need ye to find 'em fer me."

"Stole by what?"

"A dragon."

The barbarian stared at him.

"Relax, ain't no old dragon, just a young one. Catched me by surprise. Yerself ought to be able to kill it to death."

Hammer grabbed his hammer. "Dragon's a dragon," he said, resting the weapon over his shoulder.

"Mind ye that if ye think o' wanderin' off without payin' yer due, I'll hunt ye down and gut ye afore I take me hammer back."

Hammer grinned. "I do not doubt you. I'll bring the beast's head back for proof."

"Don't be dumb," the dwarf snapped. "I just want me weapons. Ain't no need to kill it if ye don't have to."

"Ah, but where's the fun in that?"

The dwarf sighed. "Moradin's pock-marked arse. Ye barbarians are a crazy lot. The beasty's about a day's march east, deeper into the woods. It's a green."

"Green, eh?" the barbarian said. "Perhaps I'll travel with the League of the Falcon after all."

*****

Spike hammer in hand, the barbarian approached the gathered company of bounty hunters. Ellyet moved out to approach him, and the barbarian's smile sets him off balance. 

"How much would we be paid for the head of a green dragon?" the barbarian asked. The commander stopped in his tracks.

"The risk would outweigh the reward," Ellyet said tentatively.

"There's a hoard of dwarven weapons, on top of whatever a young green would keep in its lair, awaiting us in the High Forest."

The elven commander stared hard at the barbarian. "I thought we weren't working together."

"This seems as good a time to start," the barbarian replied. At that point, lark stepped forward, a glimmer of fire in her eyes.

"I'll go with you, Hammer," she said in her silky voice. Her auburn hair was pulled back in a functional pony tail and she wore a faded white tabard with her goddess's face stitched into the front. A golden cord cinched it together over her battle mail.

"You can't, Lark, we're moving out," Ellyet said.

"To hunt goblins," she said dismissively. "I've earned some leave time, and I formally request it now."

The elf stared hard at her. "The two of you, then, against a green dragon."

Hammer grinned. "It will be fun," he said in a rumbling voice. Somewhere in the distance, a thunderhead was forming, and a faint echo of thunder washed over them.

A few other hunters spoke up, mostly leather-clad rangers with woodsman axes and short bows, expressing their desire to join their hunting party. Ellyet sighed.

"They are just goblins," he said. "A handful of us can handle them. Go, under the banner of the Falcon, and make sure you bring back plenty to go around."

Lark grinned and walked toward hammer. "Let's go, big man," she said in a low, eager voice, patting his rump as she passed.

*****

The rangers had set a perimeter around what Hammer discerned as the dragon's lair. It was small for what he had expected of any dragon, even a young one, but the heaping mounds of dislodged roots, tossed earth, and the slight stench of noxious fumes In fact, they were fairly sweet-smelling, in a noxious kind of way. 

Hammer steeled his mind against the intrusive fumes, gritting his teeth and gripping the haft of his hammer powerfully, whitening his knuckles. Lark, beside him, cast a charm to protect them from the fumes, and he was suddenly thankful she'd come along for reasons other than flirtations.

The air didn't clear. Haze still hung, and it gave the sunlight a sickly green tint, but Hammer marched onward as the ground grew more damp beneath his booted feet. Wearing his torn tunic, the barbarian suddenly regretted not having his customary hide armor when the weight of a magnificent, magical creature's stare. Lark stiffened beside him, and he realized she felt it too.

Something rustled ahead, then a sound pulled his attention to the side. Nothing was there. Gritting his teeth, his square, strong jaw flexing, he felt Lark's soft hand on his burly forearm. Slowly, he turned his regard back to the fore. 

Standing before them, one leg crossed seductively before the other, was a woman with darkly tanned skin, gleaming white hair, and large, almost glowing green eyes. Slashes of what looked like green paint covered her nude body, and sinewy, too-powerful-for-their-frame muscles stood on end under a thin sheath of skin. Her facial features were angular, eyes slanted slightly down and lips pouting. Her ears were softly-pointed to suggest at least a partial elven heritage. Arms long and sinuous crossed teasingly over her bare, immodest breasts, and the downy thatch of pristine white hair nestled between her crossed thighs gleamed.




The Thunderborn's Destiny



"You two have come far for an audience with the Emerald Queen."

Hammer felt magic crawling under his skin, but something--perhaps the primal spirits of his ancestors, or perhaps Lark's blessing--fought it off. He could tell the woman--thing--before him was consternated by the flash of a furrowed brow that crossed her face. Lark's hand dug in slightly on his forearm.

"We hunt a green dragon who stole goods from a dwarven blacksmith," Hammer said in his growling voice. 

"Oh?" the woman asked, arching her brow as she switched her feet. They both got a clear view of the plump, silk-sheathed vulva between her lithely muscular thighs. "I don't know of any green dragons in the area."

Lark snapped off a quick, curt prayer and golden radiance leapt from her suddenly outstretched hand--bearing the symbol of Sune--and lashed at the woman before them. For a brief moment, her divine spell clashed with the arcane spell shrouding the woman. Dark green scales flashed around the woman, but they weren't quite what Hammer was expecting. They appeared more like gemstones than actual reptilian scales...

"There are no green dragons in this area," the woman said, her voice taking a sibilant, deeper timbre, "because I am an emerald dragon. There is quite a difference."

Hammer brought his mordenkrad to bear. "The difference being?" he asked, but the woman extended a placating hand. 

"Be still, mighty barbarian, and I will make all things clear to you," she said, her voice still bearing a strong reptilian hiss. "Emerald dragons are not like those chromatic filth. We are not malicious, and serve Bahamut, the Platinum Dragon, in goodly deeds."

"She is not lying," Lark said, putting a calming hand on Hammer's bulging arm.

"Listen to your mate, barbarian," the dragoness said, and Hammer faltered. He hadn't thought of Lark as a mate, simply a dalliance. Sighing, he planted the hammer's head in the soft soil. "I have the dwarf's weapons. The reason being, he made a bargain with me. If he conducted his business in a fair, proper manner, I would return them. Too many times has that one cheated his clientele out of quality goods, charging too-high prices."

Hammer looked down at his mordenkrad. 

"Ah, yes, that bears his markings as well. Go ahead, swing it at me." The dragon smirked, holding her arms out wide. "You won't touch me through my scales. The weapon is garbage."

Hammer, seeing no other recourse and wanting very much to smite this tricky woman, hefted the weapon and charged. He swung it through the air, Lark squealed, and before he could even begin the downward smash, the head slid off its haft, flying backward through the air. The wooden shaft clattered against ghostly emerald scales, and the woman laughed. "You see?"

Growling, Hammer turned to Lark. "Tell your scouts to return to Grunwald. We're done here."

A strong hand grasped his shoulder, and he whirled back at the woman. Suddenly, Lark was at his side. "I am Alizabexathestra, the Emerald Queen of the High Forest," the dragoness said, her teeth flashing into fangs before his eyes, then returning to perfectly shaped teeth. "Won't you and your Lady enter my lair with me?"

Hammer could think of no reason not to. Certainly, the growing strain in his trousers argued that he should join her. And Lark was moving closer to the dragoness. Emerald eyes gleamed back at him as the two women locked lips, tongues visibly swirling around each other in a lewd display of sexuality. Hammer reached a hand into his pants, gripping himself in his hand and stroking slowly as he watched the naked dragoness in humanoid form maul his lover's tongue. 

He didn't register the walk into the dragon's lair, but emeralds were glinting at him all around, mounds and heaps of coins, magical gewgaws, weapons of various sorts, and all sorts of objects too obscure and foreign for him to identify laid in mounds as tall and taller than he was. 

Alizabexathestra was falling backward into what appeared to be a heaping pile of silk garments fashioned into a mountain of a bed, her legs splaying wide as auburn-haired, fair-skinned Lark slithered between them, her tongue lashing the dragon's thighs and damp, downy hair shrouding her vulva. His cock was standing proudly from his hips.

Shucking his shirt, he moved forward, sliding Lark's battle mail, tabard, and clothes off in a rush, making the woman squeak in surprise and delight. Her round bottom glared up at him, and he bent to bite on the soft flesh. Lark cooed, a sound that was absorbed by the dragoness's flesh. 

"Come to me, mighty barbarian. Show me the thunder in your heart." He looked over the woman before him at the dragon's gleaming, mesmerizing emerald eyes. He moved past Lark, hand resting in the cleft of her bottom, prodding at her anus and teasing at her vulva as he laid at the dragon's side. Both he and Lark somehow ended up pressed against the dragoness, on each side of her. He was mesmerized by the way their breasts--Lark's modest bust and Alizabexathestra's impressive bosom--meshed together, green scales sometimes knitting across the dark-skinned flesh, then vanishing in a mesmerizing dance of illusion.

The dragon's hand crept down around his hard cock, and with a gesture and snap of a word of power, Hammer was nude with the two females. The dragon was stroking him, her hands feeling oddly soft and hard, as if partially scaled. The sensation was incredible.

"I've always been curious what it would be like to mate with humans," she hissed, nibbling on Hammer's shoulder as Lark slid her fingers down between the dragon's thighs. Aliza cooed as her deft fingers split her vulva, the silky white hair gleaming with nectar that was warm and tingling to the touch. Hammer could smell her essence, and it seemed vaguely familiar.

He placed it in the next heartbeat as the scent of the fumes outside the dragon's lair. The idea that an emerald dragon in heat was prowling around, spreading the scent of her wanting cunt throughout the High Forest spawned a grin on his handsome, rugged face. The dragon took advantage of his distraction and bit down on his shoulder with real fangs, puncturing flesh lightly. 

The pain lit fire in his blood, and he turned eyes like thunderheads on her. She licked her lips, fangs gleaming. 

"Fuck me with the fury of the storm, barbarian," she rasped in her draconic voice. It was needful and powerful, rattling loose coins and his brains alike. Lark squealed slightly, but Hammer fought through the ringing in his ears and laid over the supine dragoness. He shoved her thighs apart, a growl like thunder in his throat as his steely cock plunged into the waiting dragon-cunt. 

Alizabexathestra's roar was deafening as her preternaturally cunt was sundered with his great-hammer. He wasted no time. Gripping Lark's head and pulling her into a kiss to make sure she didn't feel neglected, he thrust into the dragon's loins with the fury and abandon that only a berserker could manage. He hammered deep into her hot, tingling snatch, her soft hairs mingling with the fine black hairs wreathing his cock. His sack slammed into the pucker of her anus. Her nectar splashed, setting his skin a-tingle with its noxious nature.

Hammering down into her, the barbarian let out his own mighty roar, and thunder seemed to roll in the cavern. Lark, on inspiration, moved to sit on the dragon's face, facing away from Hammer and bending over so that he could see what transpired between her thighs. A green mist flowed from the dragon's mouth, coating the woman's snatch as her long, too long tongue slithered along the slit, lashing the clitoris before delving deep into the woman's canal. Hammer leaned in, his tongue lashing against her asshole before sliding down to enter the priestess's sacred channel with the dragon's tongue. 

The barbarian knew not what the dragoness was doing inside the woman's cunny, for he could only feel a part of her sweet-tasting tongue with his own, but further in, she must have struck a deep chord with Lark, for she began to sing her ecstasy into the cavern walls.

Her body writhed and shuddered, twitched and spasmed, and a crystalline jet if clear liquid shot from her tongue-stuffed loins. The dragoness let out a purring laugh that sounded much like silken boulders. Hammer thrust and must have had a similar effect on the dragon, for she soon began to twitch and lurch, her illusion fading in places as her ecstasy removed her willpower for several moments. Green scales grew along her flesh, limbs bulged with draconic muscle, and Hammer, cock surrounded by twitching and bulging cunt-muscles, couldn't help but howl with thunder in his breast as his cock churned forth jet after jet of pearly spew, deep into the she-dragon's womb. 

And then, the man and woman were dumped off of the body they'd mounted, as tawny skin twisted and reformed, bulging and growing scales, claws, horns, and various other spikes. Psychic echoes of the dragoness's pleasure thrummed through the cavern, pummeling Hammer and Lark in turn. The force of the mental thrusting drove them into further pleasure, Hammer's cock bursting into empty air and splattering on what was quickly growing to be a dragon's tail, and Lark falling to her knees, cunny squirting as her eyes went wide with surprise.

Suddenly, the young emerald dragon was laying off-kilter between them, fully transmogrified into her natural state, chest heaving with sexual ecstasy. 

And then, just as quickly, he was back in the forest, surround by a faint, sweetly smelling vapor.

"Hammer?"

Lark's voice was like a crystal clear bell ringing in his head, and he stared back into the sharp emerald eyes, slit-pupiled and glinting. The dragoness was grinning slyly at him.

"At least I know what it would have been like," the dragoness said, smirking and pecking him on the cheek. "I have something of a keen foresight, Gundor Stormherald. You will travel far from this place, where silver reigns, and beyond that, with painted woman sister to she that you now travel with. Your heart will keep you strong in your ideals and in your passions. Let none stand in your way, mighty barbarian, and you will own the world."

The barbarian stared at the dragon in human guise, dumbfounded for a moment, because her portend mimicked the vision he and Vyathan had shared many months ago. He felt the strength leave his bones and wondered if some enchantment had been laid on his person. 

Lark's hand was on his shoulder, then, anchoring him to this plane of existence and drawing his stare back to her gleaming eyes. He pulled her tight, glanced at the dragon, and turned and left.

*****

Thunder rolled in the distance, and while Hammer was contemplatively quiet, Lark was abuzz with excitement, wanting to know more about the mind-to-mind vision he'd shared with the dragoness. To her surprise, he was fairly tight-lipped about it. Finally, she resigned herself to losing the conversation.

Apparently, that's all it took, because Hammer heaved a sigh, then stopped his march back to Grunwald. So the barbarian went into graphic, explicit detail of every facet of his mind-vision with the she-dragon. Lark blushed furiously, biting her lower lip repeatedly, and squirming as she stood there. He even felt the warmth in his groin, but was too perplexed with his future to care enough about slaking its thirst.

"I just want to return to Grunwald. I have a road to ponder," he said.

"A road?" Lark asked.

"Yes. I will be leaving soon. This was only a stopping point on a much longer journey. My visions have told me as much. I am being led by the gods, or at least a goddess."

Lark nodded. "Sune," she said, but Hammer wasn't so sure.

The rest of the march back to Grunwald was silent, save for breathing, idle banter, and the crackle of leaves underfoot. When Hammer returned, he quickly departed the company of Lark and her group for his own room. Sleep beckoned him, though it was not so late. Drowsy more than he could recall ever being, he plopped into his bed and was fast asleep.

The visions that took him were vivid and unforgettable.

A woman with black hair, shining red armor, stood staring at him, her face stern and calculating. The black hair was wild, and she wore a pendant of a sword wreathed in flames. Tempus. He knew enough of the war gods to recognize this woman, now. She was the Red Knight, goddess of tacticians, goddess of battle and honor. A deity he had dreamt about before.

Then, to his surprise, her armor vanished piece by piece, leaving her pale skin, unmarred by battle, bare before her, her pert breasts slightly upturned, veins lightly gracing the thin skin and large areola capped by turgid nipples. She took him by the wrist and pulled him in, but before their lips could meet, her skin turned to black.

Like polished obsidian, with eyes of pure gold swirling with blood-red. Ears pointed, the hair turned to stark white, and the body became fuller, more voluptuous, but no less athletic.

A drow. His jaw clenched, but her touch was so soothing, so comforting...

A pale, alabaster face appeared behind the drow, fiery red hair wreathing the face, and pouty, smirking lips parted in a moan of pleasure.

"Silverymoon," the voice said in his dream-thoughts. The word was like a rapturous climax, and the drow arched her back, panting and sweating suddenly. 

Something warm splashed against his naked manhood, and he realized the drow had sprayed her climax on him. His cock was hard as iron.

"Silverymoon," the voice moaned again. The Red Knight was behind the drow, kneading her breasts, pinching her nipples, while the drow frigged herself. 

"Silverymoon." The pale face moaned it, The Red Knight commanded it, and the drow screamed it. 

Hammer ejaculated a fountain of cum so large he knew it couldn't be his own. It covered the drow, the goddess, and arced into the air amidst the three laughing women.

He awoke in a sweaty mess.

*****

Lark had her sword on her hip, and Captain Ellyet was beside her, looking something between relieved and anxious. Hammer emerged, tightening the belt around his long tunic and straightening the light leather breeches he wore. His boots fit snug, but the straps that held them to his feet were not pulled tight. His massive, muscular form filled the doorway of the tavern, and though he bore no weapon, the barbarian of the Clan of the Thunderbeast was violence in man-form.

"You leave, then," Ellyet said, his melodic voice quick. Hammer only nodded.

"This relieves you?" he asked as Ellyet breathed a sigh.

"In a sense, yes," he responded bluntly. "One less person to potentially share spoils with. Although, Lark is convinced it is her sacred duty to escort you to...Silverymoon is it?"

"Aye," the barbarian said. He turned his iron gaze at Lark, brow coming together slightly as he stared hard at her. "This is my road, not yours. I would not willingly share it, or deprive your comrades a skilled warrior and healer."

"I'm afraid the decision isn't yours to make," Ellyet said, sighing and throwing his hands up in apparent exasperation. Hammer turned to the captain. 

"Explain," he demanded, suddenly growing irritated that his quest had been thrown into an unexpected direction.

"You may not want me to come," Lark interjected, "but I will do so, regardless, even if I am only following you. But knowing that I follow you, would you so quickly spurn my assistance?"

He grit his teeth, and she knew she had him. Her triumphant smirk was all he needed to see. "Of course not."

"Then it is settled," she said, shouldering a travelling pack. Her smile, while triumphant, was radiant and full of warmth, commitment...Hammer found himself smiling back at the woman. Supple and athletic, Lark looked to be a good travelling companion. Weapon at her shapely hip, the tabard hugging her not-insubstantial bosom, and the auburn locks pulled back into a functional tail. 

"Ellyet," Hammer said, surging forth. He took the elf's hand and clasped his wrist. "May your enemies never die, and your sword stay wet."

With that, he left, turning without any baggage, without any weapon save for his own fists, and without any tether to the world he walked away from. Except, of course, the primal spirits of his tribe. The Thunderbeast strode with him, the storm surged within him, and the memories of the ancients filled his soul as fury rode his blood. The rage, under control, always, was his constant companion, much like...

Vyathan. A knot formed in his throat. He could sense Lark approaching from behind him, her steps hurried to match and gain on his long, powerful strides. The barbarian pushed her presence out of his mind, losing himself in the memories with the shaman who had been his wife. Tattooed, muscled as all barbarian women, she was truly a woman that could match him in every regard. From battlefield to bedroom and beyond, she was his equal in most regards, superior in some, and inferior in others. Where he fell short, she soared high, and vice versa. 

He would miss her dearly, and though his barbarian upbringing taught him not to mourn the dead, for they are with the spirits, he certainly mourned his own loss, selfishly if nothing else. Gods above, but he'd kill all the fiends of the Abyss to have her back. He would slay the primordial lords, all the enemies of Tempus and Uthgar, make love to the Red Knight for an age without stop, if it meant he would be with his Vyathan again.

But the soft hand that wrapped only halfway around his thick, iron forearm was not Vyathan's. Her grip was firm, sure, purposeful. This one was tentative, weak, almost fearful. He wanted to spit in Lark's face, but when he turned to her worried expression, his heart softened. She was not, Vyathan, no, but she was a devout servant to Sune, and the goddess's favor meant the woman had worth, even if his barbarian sensibilities could only see fragments of it. 

Even a whimsical, useless deity like Sune had her uses, he reminded himself. Indeed, if the tales were true, she was the goddess of love, and what else had he shared with his Vya? If not love...

He shook his head, then stopped. A sheen of sweat beaded on Lark's brow, matting some of her auburn hair down, and her chest rose and fell with exertion. Hammer felt no hints of fatigue or exertion. He sighed.

"Are you going to slow down and tell me what's on your mind?" Lark asked tentatively.

"Yes. And no. Not at the moment."

She huffed, squeezing his muscular forearm. "Have it your way. It might do you some good to vent, if you are angry. Or if you are...sad..."

"I am neither of those things," Hammer said. "I have a purpose that I strive toward, do you? I walk with purpose because I wish nothing to stop me from attaining what I have set my mind on. Why are you here?"

"Because my goddess commands me," Lark said, her voice suddenly taking on an aspect of authority that rocked Hammer back on his heels. "And I will be damned before a barbarian savage questions my divine commandment!"

Hammer stared hard at the woman. "You speak—"

Her slap shut him up instantly. 

"Woman—"

Smack!

And suddenly, Lark was atop him, her legs around his hips, her pack hitting the ground with the sound of jumbled belongings, and her lips were searing against his own. Her tongue thrust forth, not sparring with his own, but dominating it entirely. Strength he had not expected caught him off balance, sending him down to his knees, then back on his rump, and finally completely supine. She mounted him, biting down hard on his lip, biting his throat and shoulders as her hands tore open his tunic. He gasped and growled as fierce need blossomed in his groin, in his chest, sparking an inferno that set his blood to burning for the woman.

"I am as strong as she was," Lark snarled, her hands pinning his hands over his head. And suddenly, nothing he could do was enough to budge the woman. He started to wonder—but her slap interrupted that train of thought. Before he could realize what she was doing, her hand had undone his belt and thrust his trousers down to grasp his surging cock. Something about her grip—magic?—flowed into his cock, swelling it into iron tightness, a sensation he'd felt few times in his life. Her wetness was against him, and he wondered when her leggings had vanished. Had they even been there? Had his mind simply placed them there, imagining it because it was logical to assume she'd be clothed?




The Thunderous Night



The night was dark and stormy; the only hint of light was the lightning cascading across the sky. Adrianne sits in the dark house, huddled on the couch watching outside from the window as the rain pours down. Her only thought was on him. Is he okay, did he have a wreck; is he coming home this time? 

Joseph grips the steering wheel tight arguing with Adrianne about something annoying, actually pretty stupid now that he thinks things over. 

"Why does she do that shit to me?" he asks himself as he drives down the darkened highway, not knowing whether he'll go home or not. 

Unwillingly, Joseph finds himself taking the next off ramp driving himself back to their home. He wonders if she'll be happy he's home or furious that he showed his face after the fight they had.

Sighing with tiny little tears forming in her eyes, Adrianne moves from the couch and makes her way to the kitchen. Habit takes over and she turns on the faucet to get herself a glass of water. Just as she was lifting the glass to her lips, lights fill the dark, gloomy house and she tosses the glass in the sink to run to the door, just wanting to hold him in her arms and flood him with kisses. 

Joseph takes a deep breath as the car pulls into the driveway and lets it out as he opens the door, stepping out into the cold rain, slowly stepping his way up to the porch. He pauses for just a moment before putting his key into the lock. 

"What am I going to say?" he ponders to himself. 

Without realizing he is doing it, he inserts the key into the lock, turning it and opens the door slowly stepping over the threshold, holding his head down. He hears running footsteps coming towards him and he looks up to see Adrianne, her cheeks stained with tears. 

Adrianne runs towards Joseph, just happy he is okay, throwing her arms around his neck very tightly and with soft lips, kisses all over his face. 

"Oh baby" she cries into his shoulder, "I'm so sorry about everything." 

Joseph, feeling her soft lips on his skin, holds onto her tightly and gently places a finger over her lips.

"Shhh my sweetness, I am the one who should apologize and I have just the perfect way to do it." 

Joseph smirks a little as his hands slide down her back, grasping her bottom, lifting her up and wrapping her legs around his waist, fluently walking them over to the kitchen counter.

With her legs wrapped around his waist as he walks them to the counter, Adrianne presses her lips to his neck, kissing and flicking her tongue against his flesh. Goosebumps prickle over his skin forcing a groan from deep within him. With a swoop of his arm, Joseph pushes everything off the counter laying Adrianne on top of it. Having no control over his movements, he pulls on her shirt, ripping and popping the buttons off, exposing her braless breasts, she doesn't like to wear bras at home, says they're too confining. 

The lightning through the windows gives him a glimpse of the sight before him. Her firm, round breasts and the taut nipples beg for his mouth. More than willing to oblige, Joseph leans over her, rolling his tongue teasingly over a nipple and blowing his warm breath over the wet nub causing it to swell and harden more.

Adrianne moans, arching her back to his mouth as jolts of electricity, like the lightning outside, flow through her body. She grabs his hair in her hands, grinding his mouth onto her breasts, her thighs moistening with want of him. Joseph tugs at her pants, lifting her bottom to pull her pants along with her panties down over her thighs and legs, tossing them to the side. 

The lightning strikes outside again, filling the house with light, the sight of her naked, laying in front of him, causes his breathing to stop as his eyes drink her every curve and crevice, her silky white skin glowing under the light of the storm brewing outside. His erection pushes dangerously against the material of his pants threatening to split the thin barrier between being confined or sweet freedom. With a teasingly light touch he slides his fingertip over her skin crossing over her stomach, Adrianne sucks in a sharp breath as goose bumps form over her body and jolts of heated electricity pass through her.

Joseph gives the nipple one final tug before sliding his tongue down the heated trail his finger traced. He nips and bites at her flesh flicking his tongue against her, he rolls it in a light circle around her bellybutton as he moves his mouth lower and he leans his head back drinking the sight of her trimmed mound; moist and swollen with want. 

He breathes the air smelling a musky odor forcing his cock to harden. Joseph groans against Adrianne's flesh sliding his tongue towards his treasure. He lightly slides his tongue down her wet slit curling his tongue as he laps up her sweet cream. His fingers find their way to her sweet lips pulling them slightly back as he runs his tongue up finding her hard swollen nub flicking his tongue against it causing Adrianne to grab his hair and grind her hips up with a loud moan. 

"Please Joseph" she says in a deep lusty groan "make me cum." 

With piercing eyes, Joseph glances up at Adrianne, he sees the want and the need in her eyes, the uninhibited sexual power she has in her eyes; it immediately makes Joseph lay his mouth on her nub sucking hungrily, twisting his tongue over it Adrianne fists his hair bucking her hips against his lips. 

"Fuck Joseph...that's it right there baby." 

He groans against her sensitive nub as he slides a finger inside her soaking wet hole. The feeling of her tight sheath grasping at his finger hungrily makes his cock react and strain more against his pants. Joseph blows a warm breath against her clit causing Adrianne to moan her body writhes on the counter and Joseph slides another finger into her easily curving his fingers upwards finding her most sensitive spot as he slides them in and out of her. 

Not able to take any more discomfort from his raging hard-on he pulls away from her deliciousness, keeping his fingers deep inside her pressing against her g-spot, he quickly undoes his button and zipper pulling them down and steps out of them. Adrianne lets his hair go as she watches him with eyes so full of an animalistic hunger as his cock stands at full attention. Joseph's other hand finds her hard little love button working it in light circles while moving his fingers in her wet folds quicker and with more urgency. 

Adrianne's body tenses feeling her release coming. Her breaths come in short gasps as she thrusts her hips against his relentless fingers, electricity bolts through her limbs making her toes and fingers curl. She thrashes her head, her back arching dangerously as she plummets over the edge. Joseph feels her walls tightening around his fingers and convulses; her screams of pleasure fill the air as another lightning bolt lights up the room. 

He kisses and licks his way up her body, sending her body shuddering in little aftershocks of her orgasm. His lips crash down on hers with an unquenchable need, the taste of her still on his lips; Adrianne parts her mouth to let his tongue explore and taste. Groaning against her mouth, he sucks her tongue into his mouth twisting his against hers. He breaks the kiss looking down at her with a wild look in his eyes; he grabs her hips and with a flick of his wrists, quickly turns her over forcing her face down on the counter. 

Joseph stands behind her, pulling her cheeks apart with his hand, his lust-filled eyes drinking in her tight little body, and places the tip of his cock against her hot, dripping hole. Adrianne pushes against him not being able to take much more; wanting to feel his had cock deep within her. 

"You want this baby?" Josephs asks as he pushes the very tip inside teasingly. Adrianne moans deep, pleading with him as she grinds against him 

"God Joseph, give me your cock, fuck me hard." 

Not wanting to disappoint, Joseph rares back and slams deep inside her, filling her to the hilt. The feeling of her hot, tight sheathe around his cock makes him shudder. She stops breathing when he slams into her, his cock always feels so good filling her just right, hitting all the right spots. Her body tingles, his hardness hitting her cervix forces a shuddery moan to escape her lips. Adrianne's noises and her tightness drives Joseph to pull out completely and slam into her again. 

He slides his fingers up her back leaving a raised, red trail making their way to her hair. He massages her scalp and weaves his fingers into her tresses and pulls, forcing her head back causing her to gasp and cry out in pleasure. Joseph snarls his lip, an animalistic need taking over when he hears her cries of pleasure and he rams into her hard and fast, his balls slapping against her ass, pushing her body violently against the counter. She feels the coil of tension in her stomach as she feels another orgasm building, this one like none other she has ever had. He feels her body tense, her walls tightening around his cock feeling like they are milking his hardness; he grabs her hips tightly slamming her hard against his fast pushes. 

Adrianne grabs the edge of the counter with a death grip as her eyes roll back, her back arches upwards as her body bucks wildly against him, her body quivering with every movement he makes, she screams his name at the top of her lungs as thunder crashes outside. Sweat is pouring off Joseph, dripping on her ass and with a growl; he releases hot, thick ropes of his seed deep inside of her. Adrianne groans, her body still shuddering from her orgasm and Joseph collapses on top of her panting, trying to catch his breath. 

"Ah fuck baby, that was intense, now what were we fighting about?" Adrianne asks, the earlier fight completely forgotten.

"We were fighting?" Joseph chuckles and collects her warm body in his arms carrying her upstairs to go another round.