The musky scent of primal urges and infrequently washed bodies filled the makeshift shelter and seeped out into the cool Paleolithic early morning air. The air inside the shelter was moist and hot, and the previous night had been a marathon of love-making. The clanswoman had used muscles she did not even know existed previously as she mounted her bed-partner's gigantic cock for the third time that night. His desire was insatiable.
The clansman held her hips firmly and guided her sopping pussy onto his pulsating prick. Her red-raw labia quivered as he filled her...entirely. She moaned in pure blissful agony and her brown body shuddered.
He maneuvered her onto her front, his full weight bearing down on her slight form. She leaned back and caressed his tight arm muscles, gasping as each thrust pushed her firmly into the ground. They were both dripping from the endless sex.
His gasps became grunts became a low rumble became a rising howl before he began pounding, clutching at her soft behind making her scream as she came against his rock-hard throbbing member. He pulled out of her and squatted on his heels, shooting a long stream of tiny diamonds onto her expectant face.
She grinned with the afterburn of pleasure and with the self-knowledge that life was infinite and all was one. Why hunt for food when you could fuck until you were delirious? Why find better shelter when you could swallow penis every day of your life. The quest for pleasure was far more important than future survival or the conservation of energy.
The clansman rolled onto his back and exhaled his satisfaction to the sky above. He could see the first rays of the sun. Soon, he would want to break his fast upon something more filling than pussy. He rolled onto his side and fixed his steely gaze upon his bed-partner.
His grin was luscious and reflected itself in her caramel-coloured face. She reached across to touch his flat stomach. He extended his long arm and stroked the length of her body; long toes to curved hips to pot-bellied stomach to full breasts to a slender coffee neck to moist lips to rest upon a high protruding forehead. He hummed to himself most satisfied and she licked his fingers. He grunted and got to his feet, cracking his back in the process.
The clansman peered out of the furs covering the makeshift shelter and watched a new day begin. They were nomadic people and would need to find a new place to sleep tonight. Not because they wanted to but because they had to fill an inherent need. He wondered if they would make love under the stars upon a bed of moss and wake covered in dew. Or maybe they would fuck each other entwined in a hammock high up within the branches of a tree.
He picked up his spear and left without a sound. The shelter was on top of a hill to give the clansman a view of any potential predators, human or animal alike. He descended towards a small copse of trees that eventually joined a dark forest. Before long, he was running through dense bush.
He was completely naked and his manhood swung from side to side with each long stride. He felt free and light, as if he was at peace with his surroundings. Suddenly, he felt his stomach rumble; an indication that he should find some food to replenish his lost energy. Preferably that of the four-legged kind.
He remembered that one week when he had to resort to berries and fungi foraged from the forest floor. Groundnuts and tiny unripe apples. Riverfrogs and dirty pondfish full of worms. Acorns and mungberries. He longed for the succulent flesh of a small piglet.
Once, he managed to get hold of a scrawny little squirrel but its meat did not last long into the week. That was a week of rain and cold weather. They had stayed in their shelter for the better part of two days for fear of catching a chill, surviving on dried squirrel meat and small berries. At least they had water.
But once the rain cleared and the land began to dry, creatures began to return. The two clanspeople whooped and hooped in unison, crying to the skies above in ululating voices that held no tune. Their prayers had been answered. They would have food.
That night she fucked him sitting in his lap as he leant against the roots of a large tree. He came inside her underneath the stars, staring deep into her chestnut eyes. The clansmen had not cried out and roared as was his typical sexual performance but had whimpered and held her as she controlled his orgasm, fucking his cock until he was well and truly finished. She stared him down and that night she had become his queen and he her king.
The growl came from above. The clansman's reflexes were too quick. He thrust his spear upwards as the panther came down. It yelped as blade pierced flesh. The big cat was a heavy creature and the clansmen's spear snapped under its weight. The clansmen lowered it to the ground stroking its wheezing face as its lifeblood pumped out of the fatal wound, its wet pink tongue lolling through its meat-stained fangs.
The clansmen bent his head to smell its midnight fur. The panther's scent was strong and smelled of the trees around him. The meat was not ideal to the taste but the pelt would insulate their shelter. He began skinning the animal with the blade end of the broken spear. He was methodical in his task and soon lost himself in his work.
When he finished, he noticed that he had a hard-on. He chuckled to himself and touched the end of his pointed prick. It shuddered. Taking another's life-force always turned him on. He would return soon and have his bed-partner up against a rock and would spill his seed into the open air as an offering to the land for keeping him alive another day.
