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an0nwr1tes · 2 months ago

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The Pretty Fish and his Dumb Bird Part 1

Keith Kogane was the Garrison’s No. 1 flyer, best recruit of his generation, he’d caught monsters the size of Minitors and on one eventful occasion actually saved a baby from a burning building!

That was more of an accident than anything though.

Keith wasn’t a fool, he knew how people looked at him. Keith Kogane the child of Rex Kogane and younger brother of Shiro Takashi-Kogane, two of the greatest flyers ever to grace the Garrison’s halls.

So, it wasn’t much of a surprise when Kieth surpassed all expectations set on him and garnered quite the reputation for himself, and a fan club.

And incredibly annoying fan club.

“Stupid Shiro signing me up for this stupid camp.” Keith ducked under a tree with a scowl, wings pressed achingly against his back from the weight of his backpack pressing down on them. “Stupid Dad making me go when I could be training to fight with mom.”

Glancing behind him to make sure he wasn’t followed Keith sighed in relief, Shiro would make fun of him so hard if he saw his little brother running away from girls, didn’t matter that he was gay apparently since no hormonal teenager could get the hint!

Also the fact that Keith has never brought that up outside the house, but that wasn’t important right now.

What was important was what he was supposed to do for the next five hours while he waited for the camps activity’s to end for the day so he can get some sleep.

Grumbling under his breath Keith moved closer to the cliffs edge, the entire camp was situated at the center of a dense forest overlooking the sea, not the best place for Avian’s giving water being their natural enemy and all but since the council had ok’d it Keith wasn’t going to waste his limited brain space on something that didn’t matter.

Maybe disappearing for a few days would have his brother rethinking his choice to sign him up or maybe it would end up with Keith grounded and signed up for every after school activity his parents could get their hands on.

A shiver ran down Keith spine at the thought, the look on his brothers face so wasn’t worth another semester of Mrs Karmia’s drama club.

Seating himself on the edge of the cliff Keith pulled off his backpack and stretched his wings out with a groan, large red with purple tipped feather flapped uselessly through the air as his tail slapped against the floor.

The stupid camp had a no fly rule for the first 48 hours until they managed to find out everyone’s flying levels, which was absurd but since Keith was already skipping he didn’t feel like getting caught because he couldn’t keep back from flying.

Laying his arm across his knee, Keith leaned back on his hand as he watched the ocean. Tilting his head back Keith couldn’t help but release the breath he’d been holding since he got here as the sea breeze filtered through his bangs.

Keith might hate the water but he’s gotta admit he was starting to see the appeal all those humans talked about, there was something nice about sitting here and watching the sun shine across the water surface with the sea breeze in his hair and something crawling up the rocks-

Wait what?

Keith had braced himself against the edge of the cliff in an instant, wings extending in preparation for flight as his eyes narrowed, attempting to catch sight of the creature he’d seen only for the breath to be pulled from his lungs as laughed sounded through the air.

At first Keith didn’t even realise it was laughter, the noise too perfect, too pretty to be anything a mortal was capable of producing, then once he’d finally caught sight of the creature he knew he’d been right.

The boy had bown hair and sun kissed skin, the creatures lips were tilted in a smile and just barely Keith could see rows of sharp teeth behind the angels mouth that had him swallowing.

Despite himself Keith found his gaze traveling further down the beautiful strangers bare back, watching the water droplets bead down his back until they reached a tail.

It took Keith a few more moments than he’d like to admit to connect the fish tall curled around the rock to the bewitching boy lying on top of it but once he had Keith was both heart broken and horrified.

Instantly Keith had thrown himself behind a tree, not risking a look back as he caught his breath from the sudden fear that sized him, that was a Merfolk, quiznak Keith was so screwed if they saw him.

What was the Merfolk even doing this close to land? And why were they so close to the camp? Did the councils not know about this?

Pushing himself up Keith grabbed his pack and began making the trek back to camp, cursing his luck under his breath.

Of course the first cute guy he sees while stuck here is a murderous Merfolk, what was Keith thinking, that he might manage to score himself a date with the pretty merman?

As soon as the idea crossed his mind Keith blushed as shoved it away, he wasn’t that dumb! Merfolk only ever interacted with landfolk to fill their stomachs, Keith wouldn’t get within five feet of the Merman without turning into his dinner.

Keith squashed down the hurt that tore through his hide brain at the thought, he wasn't getting getting killed because his stupid hide brain couldn't resist one pretty boy.

An absurdly divine sun kissed boy who would literally eat him for dinner.

Running a hand through his hair Keith sighed, he had to report this no way camp could keep going this close to Merfolk territory.

Just as Keith had made up his mind, his wings spread out above him, legs braced and pack tied securely to his back, Keith heard it.

The song.

Keith didn’t even have a moment to panic before his brain was overcome with mush and a desperate desire to find the source of the beautiful sound.

Stumbling towards the cliffs edge wings and tail dropping lazily behind him Keith caught sight of the Merfolk whos song he’d been trapped in, in his natural state Keith would deny to hell and back the joy that sparked at the though of that divine sun kissed boy being the one who’s song he’d fallen under.

Smiling, Keith stared at where the Merman was singing to his friends, his voice was beautiful and all encompassing, Keith wanted to get closer, to hold him in his arms and tell him how pretty his voice is, how divine he looked lounging against that rock.

Mind made up Keith took a step forward, face falling as the avian only had a moment to mourn the songs abrupt end and the panicked cries from down below before he was happily falling face first off a cliff.

Water pressed in all around him, his wings beat lazily and tail swung in agitation as the water blocked off all sound.

What happened to the pretty Merman? Keith wanted to see him again! He didn't want to be in the water without him!

Just as Keith was beginning to fight the sea's current, wanting to be back on the cliff near the pretty Merman movement to his left caught his attention.

Turning Keith gasped, mouth flooding with water as he caught sight of the Merman rushing towards him, horror over took him as Keith realised his vison was blurring, no! He wanted to see the Merman's face!

Thrashing in a panicked attempt to get closer to the Merman Keith stilled as a webbed hand came to cup his cheek, easily pressing his face into the pretty merman's hand with a smile Keith finally got a look at the strangers face.

Bright ocean blue eyes were staring at him in concern, chestnut brown hair flowed freely around his head creating a halo of brown as the light filtered though the water and shined against his blue scales, this close up he could see the freckles decorating the gaps between his scales, the Merman's tail wrapped around him, crushing his wing's and tail against him in a way that would be painful if Keith could focus on anything but the fin's running across the Merman's tail.

An annoyed whine slipped passed his lips as he tried to reach out and run his fingers across the tail trapping them to his side, his annoyance vanishing as the pretty Merman laughed before slowly pressing his lips against Keith's allowing air to flood his chest once more.

Eye's wide, Keith did his best to reciprocate the kiss, thrashing slightly to free his arms, realizing what he was doing the Merman made an amused noise squeezing him once more before he released the Avian's arms.

The moment his hands were free Keith was grasping the Merman by the back of his neck pulling him closer and deepening the kiss, his free hand coming to cup the Merman's face.

The Merman's claws dug into Keith's shoulder as he thrashed slightly, the panicked noise he made had Keith frowning, had the Merman thought Keith wanted to leave? That wouldn't do, attempting to reassure the Merman Keith pushed closer, teeth scrapping against his bottom lip as he silently asked for entrance.

Keith would have chirped in delight when the Merman hesitantly opened his mouth if he weren't so focused on the task at hand, Keith pressed closer as the Merman breathed into his mouth.

Before he could properly enjoy what was happening a hand closed around his collar and yanked him back with a growl, Keith ignored who ever had dragging him away, hand reaching out to the Merman who was blushing so prettily that Keith wanted to wrap him in his arms and kiss him silly again, but his attention was stole by the Mermaid who had wrapped around his pretty Merman, she had brown hair and blue eyes, she looked similar to the pretty Merman, if it weren't for the fact that she was currently snarling at Keith he'd say she looked near identical.

Keith didn't have a moment longer to ponder why this stranger was wrapped around his pretty Merman before he was being dragged through the water and thrown up onto the rocks, Keith gasped as his head made contact with the rock, eyes falling shut as the older Merman was glaring at him teeth bared, before he passed out Keith here him speak.

"Stay away from our brother bird brain!"

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the-californicationist · 3 months ago

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Cali's Kinktober 2024: Day 05

Kinktober Masterlist rara avis - "the rare bird" John Price x f!reader Kinks > yandere, NC voyeurism, stalking, rough sex Full tags on AO3 - MDNI

When you move to your new home, you are totally swept off your feet by the amenities. There are so many beautiful, wooded trails and a gorgeous creek for you to explore in your own backyard. Your neighbor, an avid bird watcher, mostly keeps to himself. However, you start feeling like you’re the bird being watched.

If you don't like what's in the kink list, don't fucking click on this story. You're not invited. Block me, and then.... Get. Fucking. Lost.

You had picked this place because of the view. Your backyard overlooked the most gorgeous, fairytale-perfect creek that you’d ever seen. In the morning, ducks and their ducklings played in the shallow bends and curves of the whispering brook, and at night, frogs and fireflies sang and danced to serenade you to sleep. It was heaven.

So, that’s why you practically lived in your backyard. You were always outside gardening or weeding, laying by the stream with a spicy book, or swinging gently in your hammock, letting your toes skim the cold water of your very own oasis.

Your swimming had started as a summer habit. After you finished your sweaty chores, you loved stripping down to your bra and panties to cool off in the little creek. The deepest part only came to your belly button, so it was more like a sit rather than a swim, but you didn’t mind. In fact, if you remained still long enough, little finches would sneak along the bank, keeping an eye on you while they hunted for bugs and seeds in the muddy shoal.

Autumn brought cardinals and bluebird that roosted in the low branches of your trees, and a very vocal whippoorwill, all competing for their own spot in this obvious paradise.

You weren’t much of a bird watcher, but your neighbor was.

Captain John Price was some sort of legend. He had served in the special forces, or still did serve, but that was all classified. Your other neighbors had let you in on his intense background, yet no one had anything but the highest praise for his classy manners and charming smile. And while he did flash a beaming grin to the Smiths and the Broussards across the wide lane, he looked at you with a different sort of smile.

The way he looked at you made you melt like a popsicle on a hot day.

You’d gotten closer to the captain over the last year or so that you’d lived here. He had come over one evening because your pipes had burst in the freeze, and he knew just how to fix it. Over the course of the season, he’d sit outside and you would make excuses to chat with him. Once he had your attention, he’d point out all the different types of birds that flitted between his trees and yours, helping you recognize their calls. He’d bring his binoculars with him some evenings while he sat to watch the avian traffic, and he even let you peer through the lenses to see a nest of baby chicks in your own backyard.

Then, he’d had to go away for “work”, so he asked you to keep an eye on the mail for him. He was only supposed to be gone for six weeks, but six more weeks passed before he showed up with ten stitches over his eye and his arm in a sling asking for his key back.

When he saw your face fall in reaction to his wounds, he chuckled, the corners of his eyes creasing at their seams as he told his lies,

“Clumsy, me. Fell down the bloody stairs at Heathrow. Dunno what hurts worse, my arm or my pride.”

The wink that he tacked on at the end of his quip was Cupid’s thick-shafted arrow, striking you right in your heart. You were in trouble. This man was some sort of secret agent contract killer, and yet you found yourself replacing old boyfriends’ faces with his when you made yourself come at night, imagining him spreading you open instead of whoever had been your flavor of the month back then. Price might be the most dangerous man on Earth, but goddamnit, you didn’t care.

Over the following summer, your dark fantasies continued. He started working on his own backyard, putting up birdhouses and sharing facts with you about some of the local species he was hoping to host when you passed each other coming and going. Each day that you got to see him was a true gift, even if you didn’t really care about birding in the least.

One particular afternoon was especially fruitful. The captain was out there all day trimming trees, cutting brush, and hacking back old growth… shirtless. His muscles gleamed like a hirsute Adonis, snapping and rolling under his skin like a symphony of strength. The way his tanned flesh gleamed in the sun made him look like he was carved out of bronze.

So, you thought, two could play at that game.

You bought a white bikini online and lounged in it the first day it came in, rocking back and forth in your hammock, hoping that you could catch a glimpse of him watching you with that savage look in his eyes. When you spotted him glance over at you from his garden, you knew your plan had worked. He would peek over his shoulder as he raked or shoveled, almost imperceptibly, but you were watching him like a hawk and you noticed every little breath and movement he was making.

As the afternoon wore on, especially when you needed to apply more sunscreen, he fed you juicier and juicer morsels of his lustful longing. He would stare, when he thought you weren’t looking, at the way your heavy tits strained the lycra of your triangle top, and when you bent over, his eyes would scrape and claw for every curve of your plump ass before righting himself again before you caught him scavenging.

At one point, you pretended to fall asleep, letting your book fall limply out of your hand and onto the grass, making your mouth soft and slack, just to see what he would do. To your shock, he pulled out his phone and began to take pictures of you, quick and efficient, pocketing his device before he even looked at the results. His audacity was shocking. Your mind raced with all of the thoughts of what he might do with your images, of how he might touch himself thinking about you, hungering for you and your tender body.

A few minutes passed, and he continued to try and work, but it was futile. John started to walk over to you, moving through your shared backyard and making a steady advance on your position. As he got closer and closer, you tried to control your breathing, reminding yourself to be dead asleep, forcing your mind not to obsess over his enormous muscle-bound body or the dark fur that covered his skin, becoming denser and curling as it trailed below his belly button, pointing you to where you wanted to focus.

He stood a short distance away for a while, and he seemed to be locked in a silent battle with himself. The captain wanted to attack and retreat at the same time. All the while, you noticed him shaking his leg ever so slightly, bending the knee and widening his stance. But, his shifting wasn’t working, and to your absolute joy, he finally relented and had to use his hand to readjust his growing cock. He pulled the body of it up and over his left hip, lovingly squeezing the tip just a bit before letting it go. You marveled at his girth, praying that the outline in his pants was truly representative of the absolute monster he kept inside of them.

Your neighbor allowed himself to step forward. And again. Slowly, step by step, he closed the gap, his eyes never leaving your face, worrying that you would wake up to find him leering. Yet, he didn’t care enough to return to his side of the yard.

Shame, it seemed, was not a deterrent for his thirst.

When he was close enough to touch you, he knelt down, studying your face. Then, his eyes began to drink you in, gazing at your breasts as they hung slightly to the side, their round shapes being pulled by gravity into smooth teardrops of sensitive flesh. His hands fidgeted with the wooden handle of his rake he was holding, wanting to touch the silk of your skin and test its fineness.

Then, he trailed his vision along the midline of your belly, chewing on the inside of his lip as he studied your thickness. When he looked down at the join of your legs, staring at your fat pussy hidden under the thin fabric of your suit, his whole body sighed. You watched his bones sag and reset themselves, his jaw working through its hinge once and then twice as if he was chewing on cold mastic.

Just when you thought he would reach out to touch you, or maybe snap another picture, he bent down a little further and picked up your fallen book. As he crouched there beside you, he flipped a few pages back and forth until he seemed to find what he was looking for. A twitch of a smile pulled at his full mouth, and he laid the book back on the grass, open to the scene he wanted you to discover.

His eyes gave you one last look, wistful almost, and then he returned to his yard. Now, you just had to wait for him to look away for long enough that you could pretend to wake up from your nap. Luckily, he ducked into his shed for a moment, taking out new tools to use, and while he was busy organizing his equipment, you roused yourself from your farce.

You were soaking wet. You could feel the slide of your desire between your soft lips, and your mind was buzzing with adrenaline.

As casually as you could, you reached over and grabbed your book, tossing your bookmark into the page he’d kept for you, forcing yourself to wait until you were in the safety of your own home to see what he had wanted to show you.

You got up from your hammock and stretched, gathering up your belongings and making a slow but deliberate trek back indoors. When you noticed him looking over, you turned to wave, giving him what you hoped was a typical, neighborly smile. He smiled back but didn’t return the gesture, resting his hands on the handle of a long spade, watching you as you sealed yourself back indoors.

The moment you shut the door, you opened the book, desperate to read the scene he wanted you to see. It was a raunchy moment for the main characters with the hero burying his face between his paramour’s thighs, eating his fill of her. Just the thought of John Price wanting to perform this scene with you was enough to make you clench your knees together with lurid want. You let your hand slip over the top of your swimsuit bottoms, and you teased yourself to a quick, vicious orgasm right in the middle of your kitchen, sinking down to the floor in a wet, inglorious puddle.

The next few days passed without incident. You weren’t even sure if he was home. But, one afternoon, you were both getting the mail, and he was carrying in a long box. It was about half as tall as he was, and it didn’t look lightweight.

“Wow,” you raised your voice a bit to get his attention, “You’ve got quite the package.”

You hadn’t initially intended for the innuendo, but you weren’t mad about it. You even gave him a knowing smile, acknowledging the line. He chuckled, the sound of it creating a churning feeling deep in your core,

“Telescope. Your creek had a kingfisher in it last week, and I’m hoping to see him again.”

“Oh, cool,” you walked a little closer, making your conversation more intimate, pretending to be interested in birds for once in your life, “Is that a rare bird?”

His warm purr turned to a suggestive growl, soft and trapped in his throat, and the fire in his eyes made your blood run hot, but he wasn’t excited about birds. He was excited about you.

“Aye, the rarest,” he nodded, pointing up to his main bedroom’s balcony on the second level, “I think I’ve got a decent view from there. This thing comes with a camera attachment, so I’ll try to catch him for you.”

“That’s really awesome,” you grinned, noticing that his balcony also had a pretty damn good view of your own bedroom window, “I bet you’ll get some great shots. Can’t wait to see them.”

“You bet,” he grinned knowingly, dragging his huge package back inside.

That night, you watched him setting it all up, spying on him from your own bedroom window. He was fixing the telescope on your creek, making sure the angle was just right. So, you decided to make it worth his while.

In the purple dusk, you found yourself walking out into your backyard in nothing but a thin mesh cover-up. It was barely enough to be publicly decent, but as soon as it got wet, you knew it would show everything. It took all your power not to glance over your shoulder at him as you stepped into the creek, but you kept your cool. Face forward, sinking slowly into the water for a quick dip.

You settled into the stream, kneeling on the soft rocks, playing in the babbling waters, pretending to relax after a long day. You started skimming for pretty stones, leaning forward to wet the top of your cover-up, feeling the fabric cling to your peaked nipples, knowing they would be very much on display through the tissue-thin mesh.

Unable to stand it any longer, you dared to glance up at the balcony. There, sitting behind his brand new scope, was your hot neighbor, staring through the lens trained right on you. A rush of desire hit you like a drug, and you made yourself bravely gaze into the lens, peering through the dark glass, knowing he would see you looking.

Then, when he didn’t react, you pushed the envelope. You dropped the pretty rock you had in your palm and scooped up a handful of water between your hands, holding them together like a bowl. Then, you poured it on your neck, letting the cool liquid soak the rest of your top, making your garment entirely transparent and sticking to your body like latex.

Every moment that passed made you more brazen. You began to trace the outline of your collarbone, rubbing the side of your neck, pretending to massage away the stress.

Your eyes kept glancing to his spot, looking at him as he stared at you. This time, when you looked back, his body illuminated by his outdoor light, you saw something magical. His hand was stuck down his black, athletic shorts, and he was slowly jerking his cock back and forth, pleasuring himself as he watched you moonbathe in your stream.

Now, you locked eyes with the scope, and you turned your body towards him, making sure he knew that this show was for him. You moved your hands to your hanging breasts, circling them and pressing them together, holding them through the wet mesh. It felt so nice to squeeze them and feel the pleasure you were crafting, so you began to play with your nipples, plucking them and pinching the tips, being gentle and cruel, letting your eyes and mouth soften as you teased your own body.

You wondered if he was taking pictures or not. Maybe a video? You didn’t care. You wanted him to take them. You wanted him to take you, if he would have you.

When he saw evidence of your want, he pulled his cock free from his shorts, and now he was very clearly jerking off, using his precome to shine his shaft to a wet gleam. You wished you could taste it. You wanted to study the fullness of his head, suckling on the drooling tip, and you wanted to trace the veins of his shaft like rivers on a map, blue and full of his warm blood.

Just the thought of how his fat dick would feel inside of you was sending you over the edge. So, you sank one of your hands between your legs to relieve some tension, massaging your clit in frantic circles under the water. You must have gotten lost in your own ministrations, because when you snapped back to reality and focused on the balcony again, he was gone.

At first, your heart sank, disappointed that he was finished with your display. Then, you heard the slam of a door and looked down into his backyard. There he was, a tight white tee shirt stretching over his broad shoulders, his cockhead trapped in the elastic of his shorts, the outline of it visible as he walked, barefoot, straight towards you.

You stared at him in shock, not knowing what to do. He looked like he was in a rage. His brow was set in a determined line, and a frightened thrill writhed its way along your spine. Was he angry with you for being so indecent? For teasing him with your lewdness?

He said nothing as he approached, and you thought he would stop at the bank of the creek, but he didn’t. He came splashing right through the water, making his way right over to the spot where you were kneeling, reaching out and grabbing you tightly around your shoulders, lifting you out of the water in a wet, chaotic mess.

You were pressed against his body, getting his clothes all wet, gasping from the shock of his aggression. You started to protest, trying to get your footing, but his mouth silenced your words. John pressed his lips to yours in a ferocious kiss, invading you with his long tongue, and sucking on your bottom lip hard enough for it to sting.

He pulled away and began to bite and lick his way down your neck, stealing your breath and stumbling through the creek as he devoured you, marching you backwards, awkward and halting, all the way to the shallow near the bank. Then, just when you could feel the pebbles give way to the sand and mud of the shoal, you felt him shove you to the ground. You landed hard on your rump, gasping from the violence of it, trapped somewhere between terror and ecstasy.

“John, I wa–”

He fell to his knees and kissed your words away again, tasting you over and over, committing your flavor to memory, fisting your hair to control the way you kissed him back, stealing you from yourself like a thief.

You were being covered, inch by inch, with his heavy body, and he leaned over you, kissing and sucking and licking and biting whatever his mouth could reach. He moved to your nipple, suckling on you through the thin mesh of your cover-up, the warmth of his tongue a stark contrast to the chill of the wet fabric. He stayed there for as long as he wanted, groping and pinching your other breast as he sucked on you, making you whimper from the overstimulation. Then, he sat back on his heels, his knees still stuck in the shallow water of the creek, your bodies half-in and half-out of the span.

He was peering down at you and panting. You were both breathing hard, your chests heaving, staring at each other like a predator with its prey, not knowing which one you were but dying to be the latter.

John seemed like he was waiting for something, and when you saw his eyes move down your body to stare at your pussy, you knew what he wanted. So, very slowly, you opened yourself up to him, unfolding your legs from your center, blooming for him like a dew-soaked flower, ready to present your sticky nectar to him. The sigh of relief that rattled through his body made you want to come.

He fell to his chest, clutching your hips in his huge, strong hands, lifting you to his mouth as he began to eat you from the inside. His tongue prodded and curled, searching for your favorite spots, finding them with a suspicious ease. Licking across your clit, his mouth created wet, pornographic noises, and he groaned as he ate, unable to hold back his expression of pleasure with every brain-breaking suck and lick.

When you cried out from the immediate response your body sent slashing through your belly, he looked up from his work, but he didn’t stop. His eyes, pale blue and feral, caught yours and something inside of them forced you to stay on him, unable to look away, trapped like a rabbit in a snapping snare.

His steady, forceful suckling dragged you to an orgasm, making you tremble and wriggle against his jaws, your body sliding in the muddy bank of the stream. You felt him pull away, and you thought he was done, the spell broken by your keening completion. But, he stripped off his shirt and raked the band of his shorts under his enormous sack, presenting his engorged prick to you like a present.

Looking down at you, his eyes hooded, the pupils blown, you knew he was waiting again. Waiting for you to let him in. You were already spread open for him like a wanton whore, barely clothed and filthy from the ground. So, you reached between your thighs to cradle the underside of his shaft, petting him gently, tugging him forward in invitation.

His nonverbal viciousness was making you feel like you were under his spell, so you dared not speak lest it could be broken. Wordlessly, you pulled him toward your dripping hole, coaxing him in, letting him know he was more than welcome in your body’s sacral embrace.

A deep, demonic moan fell from his lips as he let his heavy cockhead slot itself between your lips. You took your hand away, returning to your breasts, playing with yourself just as you had in his telescope, letting him see you bring yourself pleasure at your delicate peaks.

Hungry, he thrust himself forward through your folds, slipping in your wetness, the weeping slit of his tip bullying your clit with every forward motion. Back and forth, he slid through you, slicking himself in your flesh, using himself like a toy in your sensitive petals.

You couldn’t help but whine for him. It felt mind-numbingly delicious to be played with in this way, and his rocking undulations drove you to the point of madness. You began to hump his shaft like a naughty dog, eager for everything he was giving you and more. His cock was big enough to be a challenge, but you were up for it. You didn’t care if it hurt. You wanted to feel him invading you, claiming you like an animal out here in the stream.

Finally, when John couldn’t wait any longer, he allowed his head to slip down and notch in the pliant sling of your quim, moaning just as desperately as you had been as he felt you swallow his tip inside of your hole.

“Nhgh,” he clenched his teeth as he pressed his hips forward, his hand grabbing your hip hard enough to bruise, holding you in place so you couldn’t escape him, as if you wanted to, “Bloody hell, you’re so wet for me.”

You cried out as he pried you open, his heavy shaft too thick for your unpracticed slit,

“John… it’s so big… oh, God…”

His grimace morphed into a smile, and he slid himself out before pumping forward again, trying to fit his thick rod into your cunt,

“Thought you could just give me a fuckin’ show. Thought I’d just watch, that I’d let you get away with it.”

He shoved himself forward, forcing a shrill scream from your lips, laying himself over you and trapping you between his arms. As he began to thrust himself into you, dragging himself out and punching himself back in, you felt hot tears sting your eyes with their salt, overwhelmed by the blinding pleasure you were experiencing.

“Fuckkkkk,” you watched as his eyes rolled back in his head as he cursed at the feeling of your body clenching around him, stuck in the feeding-bleeding cycle of your shared bliss, “Rub that pussy for me, love.”

You obeyed, following his eyes as he watched your fingers make their little ovals in the plushness of your flesh. He groaned, pleased, and set himself to his task. As he fucked you, he began in steady, pumping thrusts. You could have kept time with his momentum, shocked by his consistency. He never faltered, he never weakened; he simply fed himself to you, in and out, stuffing you full of his hard length and rubbing at your softest, deepest places.

Between his steady sex and your familiar touch, you were falling over yourself in an embarrassingly short time, your pussy already primed for pleasure, horny beyond belief, tingling and eager to throb around his shaft in celebration. He bent to kiss you on your sensitive neck, sucking against your skin, mean enough to leave a mark, whispering a chaotic mess of messages to you as he was lost in the thrall of fucking you into the dirt,

“Feel you wantin’ to come, pretty bird. Sing for me, yeah? Let me hear you scream for me.”

This couldn’t be real. His filthy talk was pulling you deeper and deeper into your mounting orgasm, and you felt the line snap. Your body began to tense up, your muscles tight and shaking, and you could felt the rush of your come coating you both from the inside. You were feeling completely unbound, and you had to stop touching your clit. It was too much, but he wasn’t having it,

“Don’t stop. Don’t… C’mere.”

He shoved your hand away and took over for you, fucking you and rubbing you, refusing to let you escape from his efforts. His touch flung you back into an orgasmic whirlpool, making you dizzy, tricking you into thinking you had finally stopped coming and then proving you wrong. He was dragging them out of you, ragged and nasty, moaning from your screams and from the gripping, pulsating tightness of your pussy.

“That’s it. Such a pretty song. Keep singin’ for me, love. Makes me wanna fuckin’ fill you up with my come.”

“I’m… John, please… Mmngh!” You fell apart, your orgasm turning you into a brainless little fucktoy for him, your body betraying you, defecting to his side, willing to listen to his every command.

He took his hand away, and you sighed in relief until you realized he had new plans for you. He pulled away, sitting back and flipping you over with frightening ease, helping you to your knees before feeding himself back inside of you from behind. Your chest was pressed down into the mud, the cold ground stinging your swollen nipples, the smell of the wet dirt heady in your nose.

“Pretty bird. Look at this fat fuckin’ arse,” he grunted, slapping you hard on your right cheek.

“Angh!” You cried out.

“Perfect,” he smiled, showing you his sharp teeth as you stared at him over your shoulder.

He hunched himself over your body, humping his fat prick into you like a dog, grinding himself into your hole with wet, milking noises filling the night air as he fucked you in the dark. John was pumping himself hard enough in you that you thought you might bruise. You knew your pussy was helpless to his invasion, and it trembled with every thrust, trying its best to flood you with your own lubrication, doing everything it could to help you cope.

Frantic, John wrapped his hand around the base of your neck, holding you beneath him, pressing his hips even closer so he could reach his crown to new depths. The angle forced you to arch your back and he rewarded you for it, rubbing his hand along your ribs before reaching under your cover-up to hold your breast in his palm, gripping you fiercely.

“Holy hell, this tight little cunt’s gonna make me come, baby,” he purred into your ear, bending himself over you, increasing his pace and his power, watching the pleasure-packed tears roll down your cheeks, “You want it? You want my fuckin’ come? Want me to put it right here?”

You felt his hand reach around your leg so that he could press his fist against your womb, making your body feel every inch of him even tighter inside of you, allowing you to know exactly just how deep he was rutting into you.

“Please, John… I need…” You tried to answer, but you were fuck-drunk and dumb. You were nothing more than his cocksleeve. You were made for him to pump his load into you. That was all you wanted. Nothing else mattered. Nothing else even existed. Your whole world fell away, replaced by your neighbor’s pounding rod.

“Tha’s it, pretty bird,” he rolled his fist against your lower belly in deep, massaging circles, flinging you into a rolling orgasm, “The louder you scream, the harder I’ll fuckin’ come.”

His groaning turned into animalistic grunting, shouting, growling despair, and he sank himself down into you, flush with his girthy base, fully sheathed in your hot core. You could feel him filling you with his creamy orgasm, letting rope after rope shoot into your body, trapped inside by his thick root.

John’s breath was hot against your cheek, and he kissed his way down your body as he pulled himself away. The long retreat of his shaft made you feel like your soul was being ripped from your chest, and the wet, gooey noise of his spend sliding out of you turning your heart inside out. You collapsed to the ground, not caring in the least about the mud, nor its cold, clinging, filth; you just breathed and trembled, used and spent.

You thought he would leave you where he found you, his cruel love shaming him into fleeing such a scene of terrible waste. But, he didn’t. He shucked off his shorts and pulled your cover-up off of you, letting it slap down into the shoal. Then, he scooped you up in his arms and waded with you back into the creek, laying you in the running water, black with the night’s dark sky above you, cold against your sensitive flesh.

You shivered, curling into him, and you felt his hands using the clear water to wash you clean. He was clearing the sand out of your hair and off of your skin, gently as he could, caring for you like a precious pet, baptizing you in his own praises. Telling you how good you were for him, how you were his pretty bird, how he would take care of everything.

When he was done, he lifted you out of the stream and carried you to the yard, heading for his backdoor. He nudged it open and lifted you all the way up the stairs, single-minded on his mission. You were in and out of consciousness, too weak to protest, and when he finally lay you in his own bed, he wrapped you in a towel he pulled from his bathroom, using another to dry himself off as well.

You groaned, trying to get up, but he lay himself on top of you, fidgeting with the covers under you were under him and the sheet, locked against his naked body.

“I should go… “ You whispered, trying to fight the sleep that was seeping into your mind.

You felt the prod of his cock, hard once more, and you whined from the absurdity of your sore hole being asked to stretch again for him.

He pushed himself inside with little resistance this time, and started the process again, taking your primed body like you were made for it. Like it was your one, true purpose.

“I can’t,” you whimpered, panting and curling against him, “Don’t make me come again.”

“Shh,” John said, kissing you quiet, “Hush, love. I’m not fuckin’ finished.”

You couldn’t remember how many orgasms he had pulled from you, but when you woke the next morning, his arm wrapped tight around your breasts, you felt like you had transcended. You were on a whole new plane of existence, and although you were bruised, used, and soaking in his milky seed, you were well and truly satisfied.

As your eyes adjusted to the light, you saw a picture of yourself come into view. You were on his nightstand, dressed in your white bikini, pretending to sleep with your book by your side. It was trapped beneath a pane of glass, gleaming in the dawn, surrounded by a proud frame.

That’s weird, you thought. Framing it was a little odd. But, then, you saw the rest. All over his wall, the one that faced your bedroom, pictures of you covered the sheetrock like wallpaper. You stopped breathing. All you could see were pictures of you from every different angle and position. Some were of you getting dressed in your bedroom, and some were of you shopping at the store. Some were close portraits, and some were taken in places you didn’t even remember. They were everywhere, floor to ceiling, pasted very meticulously to the plaster. And you were in every one.

You hadn’t realized he was awake yet, but you knew he had been watching you examine his gallery when his palm covered your mouth stopping you in the middle of your scream.

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