Of Wolf and Man

Damn it, I hate the outdoors. I mean fishing or golf, fine, but hiking? My idea of a good time outdoors consists of a few beers on the patio at the bar. What was I thinking? At least the company was pleasant. Oh yeah, that's how I was thinking: with my dick.

Okay, background. Monica has been a regular at my bar for a few weeks. At least that was the first time I noticed her, but I imagine that would've had to have been her first time there. I was always there and there was no noticing Monica. She is a flawlessly sculpted dollop of porcelain with a thick, black main of dead straight hair halfway down her back. I've never asked but I'd place her in her early thirties, and only because of the class she carried herself with as opposed to the throngs of twenty-something grad students from the nearby art school.

Being chronically shy, her arrival was always accompanied by a sharp poke in the ribs from one of my cronies and a "she's here." I never had the nerve to talk to her myself; I just hoped that she'd decide to play darts.

Monday, May 20th, 7:08 and 19 seconds P.M. Eastern Time. I'm ordering a pint. I'm standing next to her as I always do when I order because I'm too much of a pussy to come up with a legitimate excuse to be near her. "Hey," I hear. "Hey!" is repeated. I look at her and she's looking back in my direction. I look over my shoulder to see whom she's addressing. "Yeah, you. I have a bone to pick with you."

"Me?" What did I do?

"Yes, you." Had I already blown it? "Why is it you've had something to say to everyone in this bar, but I had to ask the bartender what your name is?"

I gave Gregg a "why didn't you tell me about this" glance. He shrugged. I turned back to her.

"Ian, right? I'm Monica, and I'm not contagious." I laughed as we shook hands. She knew how to break the ice.

Over the next few weeks we discovered that we enjoyed each other's company. I spent time chatting with her as she had an après-office cocktail and she usually found her way over to the dartboard at some point. You can never have too many casual friends.

One day while discussing fishing in the New York State reservoir system Monica Divulged her love for the Great Outdoors. "I love it when the only thing breaking the silence is a bird singing or a nearby stream."

"What about bears? Or mountain cats? Or moose even, you ever seen a pissed off bull moose?"

"Oh relax, it's not that bad."

"Seriously, they're hellishly territorial."

"You should come hiking with my friends and I sometime." She brightened up and continued. "Actually we're going this weekend. My friend Danny has a timeshare cabin in the Adirondacks. Come with us. You'll love it, I promise." If she had been wearing a bra that day, or the air conditioning perhaps not on as high, I might've said no.

So then I find myself in a gravel train station parking lot somewhere outside Saratoga Springs waiting for Monica and her friends. I sat on a concrete step and smoked a cigarette pondering my preparedness. Did I dress properly? Did I bring the right stuff? Was this tick repellant any good? Am I going to regret wearing my work boots? I didn't own hiking boots and sneakers didn't look like they were going to cut it.

I was about to call Monica and chicken out when her car pulled into the lot. When she got out the acres of perfect skin between the hem of her cargo shorts and the tops of her thick socks were enough to convince me to stay. MY mood brightened further when she hugged me hello. I saw over her shoulder that there was no one else in the car. Maybe I'd get to spend the day with her without the danger of getting a rash? "Where are your friends?"

"Oh, I spoke to Danny last night. He and his wife had a few things to take care of, but he said they'd meet us at the cabin." Damn. Add "Did I bring enough itch cream?" to my list.

We drove for an hour or so down roads that became less civilized every time we turned onto a new one. But as the pavement got more and more suspect, the scenery became more and more stunning. Eventually we wound up on a one lane, tree lined gravel road that ended after a few miles in some sort of Cul-de-Sac for trees.

I got out of the car raring to go after seeing nature through the windshield. I immediately wanted back in. It was ferociously hot and humid, and the heavily overcast sky didn't look promising. And while the maraca song of the cicadas might have sounded nice to some, it just reminded me that there were bugs out here. "So where's this cabin?"

"Somewhere over there." She waved her hand in the general direction of the mountain in the distance as she unfolded a map onto the hood of her car. I almost fainted when I saw it. It was a giant fucking green square with a gray circle in the middle a few blue lines snaking there way across it here and there. "Relax!" Monica laughed when she saw my jaw hit the ground. "I've done this a million times. We'll be having lunch in the cabin before you know it." She slung her bag onto her shoulders, picked up her map and compass and wiggled off towards the tree line. I had to remember to pick up my bag before following that cute little ass to my doom like lemmings following whatever the hell it is that they follow that makes them jump off cliffs.

An hour into my hike I found myself not hating it. She was right, the silence was awe-inspiring. Everything around me was soothing and peaceful. Even the ominous gray sky had its perks: the light diffused perfectly through the clouds and all the inimitable colors of God's unspoiled paradise intensified. I was amazed to find myself standing in front of a cabin realizing that I had just spent three hours walking down narrow paths in the wilderness in stifling heat. I was really thirsty, but not even winded.

"They're not here yet." Monica seemed a bit puzzled by this. "I figured they'd beat us here considering I've never been here before." Monica dropped her bag and fished out her cell phone. I dropped mine retrieved my water before heading towards a nearby stream that looked like absolutely killer trout fishing.

"Yeah, well thanks for the heads up." Greeted my return. A very irate Monica slapped her phone shut. She took a moment to regain her composure before walking over to me. "Listen, Danny flaked," she said. She bit her lip in anticipation of me being pissed before continuing. "I'm sorry I dragged you out here for nothing."

"What are you talking about?" I was grinning ear to ear like a freak and just beginning my rant about the untold pleasures of nature when I was interrupted by one of them. The staccato crack followed by the long, low rolling bass of a thunderclap. We just made it under cover of a lean-to before a column of water hit the ground.

We spent the next few minutes staring out at the rain. Monica wasn't having a very good time. She sat there waiting for it to let up enough to sprint the forty or so feet to where our bags were. I, on the other hand, was delighted. I kicked off my shoes and socks and held my overheated feet out into the conveniently provided shower. The rain was just right. In my enthusiasm I was nearly overcome by the urge to strip off every stitch of clothing and run through it naked.

Added to the setting was a stunningly beautiful woman glistening from exertion. In my awe for my surroundings I had almost forgotten about her until she barked out "Fuck it," and dashed out to where our bags were. The fifteen or so seconds she spent in the downpour were enough to soak her through to the marrow. "You could've asked me to go, I don't mind the rain at all," I told her when she was under cover again.

"No, that's alright," she sighed as she yanked off her sopping boots and socks. God, even her feet were hot. "Besides, it's not like I'm going to melt, I'm not made of sugar or anything." That was a point I was pretty sure I could debate and win.

"Fuck!" Her arms were out at her sides as she tried to shake off some water. "I hate wet clothes." Her long sleeve whit tee shirt was soaked through. It clung transparently to every curve and ripple of her tight body. Her B-cup breasts stood out high and proud as if they knew how magnificent they were and took the opportunity to show off.

She must have caught me staring. "I guess this isn't really hiding anything at this point." My faced bloomed red with embarrassment as I looked at her face. Oddly, I found a smile on it. "Well, since all it's being is uncomfortable, there's no real reason to keep it on, is there?" She stood up and headed back towards the rain as she peeled the clingy shirt off exposing her slender back to me. As she dropped out of the lean-to into the rain her hands fell in front of her and opened the snap on her shorts. Rainwater rolled down her body in rivers as she bent straight legged to tug off the drenched shorts that adhered to her smooth skin, exposing more of her flawless skin inch by inch. Her shorts now collecting rain on the ground she looked back over her shoulder and curled a finger to beckon me out into the torrent with her.

The rain felt cool and invigorating against skin heated from the day's effort and desire. So did the cool wet skin of her arms as they wrapped around my neck. "You are woefully overdressed," she informed me before her lips met mine. I felt her hand slip in front of me and open the buttons on my shirt.

My shirt on the ground, the rain pounding a massage into my shoulders felt fantastic. It paled in comparison, however, to the sensation of Monica's soft hands as they caressed their way down my sides and around my waist to the front of my pants. Water was the only thing between us as she sank slowly to her knees, taking my pants along with her. She placed soft kisses along my scorched torso in the wake of her breasts, which my throbbing cock now nestled between. She smiled up at me realizing I loved the feeling of her firm tits surrounding me, but just as quickly turned down to flick her tongue across the head of it peeking out from between.

"My my, you're bald," she commented. I suppose under normal circumstances I would be nervous as to whether or not she liked her men shaved, but this was as good a way as any to find out. With one hand on the small of my back the other gently rose up to cup my sac as she bent down to consume the length of my cock. She was psychotically adept at this. Her head bobbed on my cock, her tongue flashing across the underside of the shaft. Her hand not only massaged my balls, but her thumb and index finger ringed the base of my shaft making short downward stroking motions on the last inch or so. She had me at the brink of orgasm within seconds and the intensity of it dropped me to my knees. She followed me over and knelt in front of me as I fell down further onto my back. Her fingers squeezed at the base of my cock and the sensation ebbed away, taking me away from the brink. But her mouth kept going, sucking me without mercy, pausing only to swirl her tongue around the pulsing, purple head. She worked the base of my member like a squeeze toy, constantly bringing me to the edge and backing me off, prolonging the torture, all the while caressing my sac. Finally she looked up at me and said "I think you're about ready," and in one quick motion flicked her wrist around and up my cock. The cum shot out of me like a geyser, several feet into the air before landing on my stomach with a smack that was audible above the thundering rain. The contrast of the hot jism and cool water sent me into sensory overload as she slowly continued to stroke me still pumping package.

Ordinarily such an event would put my out cold. However I was soaked to the bone as the rain pounded down. This was like a bucket of ice water in the face and I was wide awake. The post orgasmic endorphin spike turned me into an animal. The sight of her kneeling in front of me with her wet hair plastered to her shoulders, grinning as rainwater cascaded off her body made me predatory. I pounced on her, pushing her back onto the soft grass. My lips ground into hers, her mouth opening and our tongues interlacing. She clawed at the back of my neck as my hands kneaded her breasts. I felt her hand grab my spent cock and tug at it; she was as frantic as I was. I would've been happy to oblige her by slipping a rock hard cock into her, but that wasn't going to happen at this point. I pulled my mouth away from hers, and she protested briefly until my lips locked around her nipple. Her back arched driving her breasts against my face as her fingers clutched my hair. She began to push my head down and I offered no resistance. I wanted to eat her pussy and if she wanted it without delay I was not going to argue.

Normally the smell of a horny woman is enough for me, but today was a feast for the senses. In this setting everything was in abundance. Not only did the familiar spicy tang of wet pussy hit me but also the crisp sweetness of live grass and the heaviness of wet earth. My fingers dug into her hips as my tongue flashed up between her labia, pulling her down onto my mouth. I fed like a pig rooting for truffles, burrowing hungrily into her, digging my tongue as deeply into her folds as possible. My hand made it's way to her mound and into the soft patch of wet, jet-black silk that grew there. She yelped as my fingers tightened, pulling her down against my mouth. I felt like I was possessed. She was bucking frantically on the ground before me, driving into me, humping her clit against my nose. She wanted to get off badly, I had to calm down. I slid my hand out of her hair and over her thigh. I crossed two fingers and twisted them into her, my momentarily obsolete mouth moved up to her clit which was throbbing and peeking out from under its bright pink hood. I slid her clit hood out of the way with my tongue and slurped her nub between my lips. She sat bolt upright and tore at my hair as her pussy contracted violently around my fingers. She wailed like a cat getting fucked as swirled my tongue around the clit I greedily sucked on.

She collapsed back to the ground briefly and pushed me away from her now overly sensitive snatch. I fought her hands off out of sheer desire to keep tasting her. Eventually I relented and sat back on my haunches. She sat up and glowered at me. My head was pounding and I imagine my eyes were as bloodshot with lust as hers were. She licked her lips and looked down into my crotch. My cock was beginning to pulse back to life, half erect and leaning on my thigh. This time she pounced on me, slamming me back into the mud and grass. Her face was inches from mine, her mouth curled up into a sneer. She snapped down onto my mouth kissing me violently, her fingers digging into my shoulders. When she broke the kiss she did so abruptly and bit don on my lower lip. I could taste the salty warmth trickling across my gums, and the taste of blood drove me out of my mind. I sat up pulling her up with me. My cock was now harder than I can ever remember it being and she tugged on it, guiding it towards her crotch. I grabbed her hips and pulled her up into my lap and I sank into her immediately. She leaned back into the grass as I thrusted forward from my knees. Her legs splayed out behind me I leaned back as well, laying between them. I looked up and across our bodies; I could see her breasts high in the air, her back arched, her weight on her elbows as she propped herself up to watch as my shaft churned into her. I looked down where we joined and saw a froth building below her exposed clit. I reached back with one hand and grabbed her foot with one hand, my other planting it's thumb on her clit. Her eyes narrowed and her teeth gritted as my thumb rubbed over her clit. I bit down into her calf as I thrusted my hips forward and down, her hips grinding in circles. We fucked like animals; snorting and screeching, clawing and biting. All the while the rain pounded down on us like a thousand massaging and caressing hands. Her face and neck flushed red as her orgasm hit her, followed by others in rapid succession. Every time her pussy snapped it brought me closer to the edge until I finally came with blinding intensity. My hips bucked and my hand clamped down on her pulling her against my crotch as I pumped jet after jet of cum into her. Her pussy continued to squeeze, milking my cock with the ardor of piranha cleaning out a carcass. When it finally ended she climbed on top of me and laid there while our breathing evened out, eventually falling into sync.

I don't know or even care how long we lay there intertwined in the rain. Eventually the storm died down and the sun broke through. We didn't bother getting dressed or even getting up as we were in the utterly remote wilderness without another living soul for miles. We let our bodies dry off and warm up in the intense June sun. We stayed the night despite the cabin being locked up. We built a fire and spent a wild, almost ritualistic weekend in front of it. Now I go hiking with her every weekend.