The Chase

The cold morning air poured across my arms and legs, my breath billowing mist into the chaos around me. I had been training determinedly for some weeks after my rather embarrassing defeat to the girl in charcoal and white. As I pumped my legs up the hill, I reminded myself of the tension required to run—the tension borne by a relaxed mind imposing a disciplined rhythm upon itself. Each day I had composed myself diligently, stepping into my running shoes as if they were an extension of my body as an archer's bow is an extension of his.

I had not yet seen her again after that fateful day. She was as a shrike with her sleek figure, curving effortlessly through the air, curious and intelligent. I imagined her to be a huntress, patient and mischievous; ready to leap into the fray with a gladness imprinted onto wild things.

By now the sweat was forming beads on my forehead and wetting my thick eyebrows. I was glad of having shaved my head, since the cool air softly caressed my scalp and served to refresh my motions as I summited the hill. The next leg of my run would take me through a dense bush filled with the heavy scent of life, somewhere in between rejuvenation and decay.

The sighing of the wind through the tall trees around me sounded as a whispering, the breathy respiration of her as she passed me with a smile at which I could only guess. To put it mildly, I had been obsessed with my encounter with this girl. She had silently shadowed me that day, waiting until this very spot to overtake me. She had, without making it seem too obvious, looked over her shoulder and challenged me to beat her now that she had made the first move. Her steps were light and surefooted and her thighs were lithe and sinuous as she picked up the pace. It was all I could do to still the compulsion she had stirred within me. I was brash and confident and imagined myself to be the Orion to her Artemis. I didn't realize, however, how apt an analogy it was.

The crunching of the pine needles beneath my treads brought me back from my remembrance and I narrowly escaped tripping over a root which lay across the path. Irony seems never to be far removed from the lives of men. The floor of the bush was everywhere dotted by elegant mushrooms and fungi, their ritual stance older and more primal than any other living thing around. It seemed to me that they are the personification of the vigor of life; which digests stone and soil and distills it into the luscious fecundity of flesh and frond. I imagined the whole world to be merely the intricacies of their anatomy, as if we were inside them, inside-out. Ahead, on a bend after which I would see the clearing of my next leg, a single thickly masted phallus penetrated the damp air as if to punctuate my thoughts.

The soil in this area is of a dense clay, everywhere pitted and accented by hard, red stones upon which sparks could be struck. The path had been washed with deep crevices and ravines by the recent heavy rains and I had to concentrate to keep my knees bent and my back straight so as not to overcome the static friction which held me so tenuously, I thought, to solid ground.

By this time, my legs had begun to sting a bit and I pushed myself not to slow down. My lungs like bellows pumped and my diaphragm pushed to keep me afloat now that I was no longer shaded by the trees I had left behind. I could feel the stains of sweat making large pools around the pits of my arms and I could smell the rich, vinegar-and-yeast scent that wafted up to my nostrils with each swing of my shoulders. It is frowned upon to carry an odor in polite company but I took a guilty pleasure in the smells of my body. Our noses are of course much older and wiser than our upstart mammal-brains and I thought it prudent to obey the excitement that such an ancient organ might take in the smell of sport.

This, the final long bend on my route, was my favorite part of the run. It was flat and gentle and took nothing from the travelers whom it bore often. I could think without much effort and found my thoughts drifting again to the girl I had made the object of my ardor. The swaying of the landscape caused by each of my strides recalled the waving of her simple but pretty bob which she carried like a mop, ready to wipe the floor of any petty contender. Her skin was ashen-white and had seemed to reflect the light of the trail which spread around her. I had caught up with her and was pacing her as she made no effort to exert herself beyond the tempo of which she was most obviously in control.

The path of our run intersected that of the main road through the town, although it was not busy so early in the morning. Unfortunately, I had been so focused on beating my opponent to the dead-end where the path met a large cement dam that I had not at all noticed the freight truck barreling towards us. Its loud, sonorous horn wrenched me from the competition and I was momentarily in a panic, unsure of the danger but convinced of its urgency. As I stopped, she accelerated and beat the truck by a hair's breadth to the other side, the driver most probably swearing and cursing the day such an impetuous woman had been born.

I realized then that I had been bested and helplessly watched her get into her car, parked underneath a great, leaning oak which skirted the side of the dam. She drove back towards me and the main road and I could see her Cheshire-grin, filled with teeth fit for a feast. She turned off to the side and winked as I wiped the sweat on my face with my shirt and disappeared as quickly as she had materialized before.

Resolved not to be caught off guard by a truck again, I dutifully observed the rules of the road, looking left then right then left again before making the crossing. The first rays of the sun had started to peek from behind the mountain that loomed at my back and shone neatly onto the ground under the old oak, revealing the vehicle of my nemesis. I looked around, trying to catch my breath and fought the slight nausea from running hard and, admittedly, surprise. I could not spot anyone nearby and decided to warm down as quickly as possible so as not to be caught with my pants down, so to speak. I would have my day but I had to bide my time until I could perform adequately.

I stretched my calves and hamstrings by leaning against the wall of the dam and paced up and down its perimeter once or twice doing lunges. I had just finished and was leaning against the wall with my head pressed up to it. The dam was just slightly higher than I was tall at such an angle. I looked up at the breeze which fondled the dawn-colored leaves above me when all of a sudden my vision was obscured by a pair of cold, wet hands which fell to cover my eyes.

"Poor thing, just as tired as last I saw you?" a voice from behind me asked. I turned quickly, brushing off the hands to face my examiner. It was her, the shrike-girl, in the flesh! Her cute bob peeked out from behind the wall of the dam, steam drifting from her face, covered in a fine down made visible by the water droplets it had caught and the goose flesh of cold mornings. My face must have revealed my shock and slight irritation because she laughed heartily, the chiming of her chuckles mirrored by the reflections of the sunlight on the water projected onto the far side of the dam. I couldn't even muster a response but my mood was softened by this musical interjection. "I'll tell you what: come swim with me and we can make up for our unfortunate parting last time," she said. Unable to think of a suitable parry and slightly dazed by the pretty half moon smile that was rising over her rosy cheeks, I assented.

I undressed, leaving on only my black ski-pants. My heart was racing slightly, but not from my run, and I was confused as to what to even think now that I had been so deftly manipulated once again by this precocious girl. I felt my face flush warmly. I bent down to put my folded clothes upon my shoes when suddenly there was a faint plop and I saw that her delicate, wet feet were standing in the dirt before my eyes. I cautiously swept up my gaze, taking in the full glory of the visage before me.

Her legs were strong: her calves were broad and well-developed, recalling engravings I had seen of Renaissance dissections; her thighs like sensuous alabaster columns bearing a temple to Aphrodite. She seemed to me a beautiful work of art, an instrument like a violin designed by Apollo himself to pull at the heartstrings of mortal men. Her mons was crested by a neat thicket of wiry hair the color of basalt and her labia were slightly parted at the intersection of her thighs so as to accentuate the pretty dimple at the crest of her vagina. No doubt, it was a sign of the deep pleasure hooded beneath. The rivulets of water running off of her body collected here in a crescent of fertility.

Her stomach was split harmoniously by the line of her abs, broken only momentarily by the screw-top of her bellybutton. Her diaphragm heaved gently and with each breath a cloud of incense coiled through the mounds of her breasts which were like hills aching to be molded and shaped by the hands of some primordial titan. They were perky but sagged just enough to give the impression of experience and wisdom, the call to supp on their delectation as deeply-seated as life itself. Slight veins, like those of a well-aged cheese, ran up from them across her chest and intermingled with stretchmarks as real as granite. I was for some time transfixed by ocher areolas like the ocelli on the back of a tiger's head; watching, knowing my desires as yet unmanifested.

Her neck was perched elegantly atop her shoulders which swept back to imitate the sloping roots of the mountain to our side. She had raised her chin ever so slightly, presenting her corded throat as an object of carnal lust, pleading its admirer to seize it if he dare.

I felt my penis grow, bracing against my ski-pants, the blood rushing to take part in this oracular display. At the sight of this, she smiled naughtily and bit the one side of her full, pastel lip and raised her eyebrows as if to open the floodgates.

She stepped forward hungrily and seized my dick in one strong hand, grabbing both it and my scrotum firmly. My breath snagged just above my stomach and I could no longer control myself. The situation demanded that I act, that I forego the middling formalities of speech. I wrapped my hand around her throat and kissed her with an aggression I had seldom felt. Our tongues were slick, muscled serpents tightening and constricting, resisting and embracing the forces now, only skin-deep, stirred into a froth.

She jerked my penis from its prison and ran one hand slowly down my stomach, the muscles there quivering in excitement. By now, my hand was firmly entwined in her soft hair and it took my every restraint not to swallow her whole. I followed the line of her gums with my tongue, feeling her teeth, savoring the taste of her. Our noses fenced and I reveled in the the strong arch of hers, the faint smell of her pores and oils heightening my senses.

I was suddenly pushed back against the dam wall with a force that made me stagger, and felt as she quickly crouched down, pulling my pants off and over my feet. She eyed my cock like some curious predator, ready to strike at the slightest throb. My heart beat a drum in its base and I clenched my penis and anus, the pleasure of it sublime. She took me in her mouth which was warm and wet, and she slathered it with thick ropes of spit. My hand was yet still in her hair and I gently but firmly assisted each bob of her head, pressing my fingers into her scalp like conduits into her mind. She made gagging noises and slurped and sucked and swallowed until the head of my dick was touching the teeth at the back of her mouth. It ached but oh so wonderfully.

Her one hand was again tightly held around my balls and I felt her knead and roll them as if in pensive contemplation. The other had slipped down to her pussy and was rhythmically flicking her clitoris. The wet sound of her movements made me long to bury my face in her vagina, to soak my beard in her sumptuous, slippery juices. I imagined them running down the crease of her perineum and pearling through her anus. I wanted to see the cyclops eye of her ass and feel the puckered perfection of it. My mind conjured the thought of her cheeks parted in her animalistic squat and the smell of sweat and shit and sex that it would bear to my olfactory bulbs.

I took one of her pointed nipples between my thumb and forefinger and slowly rolled and twisted until I could hear her faintly moan. It engorged my penis anew and I played with her tits as if I were blind, eagerly taking in their fleshy decadence.

She kissed my penis softly, the pre-cum dripping and making sticky threads from her lips to its apex. She started to jerk me off quickly and ran her finger over the crease in my pendulous sack, which was loose and supple from her ministrations, up and into my ass. It paused briefly on the button of my anus and she seemed to take great pleasure in its clenching and relaxation. Her throat growled deeply and she took her finger and wet it with her own lubricants and stuck it back between my cheeks, slipping pleasurably into its maw up to the knuckles. I gasped and she laughed like a witch casting a spell. I was leaking like a faucet and she lovingly smeared my dick all across her face with her free hand, her mouth open in rapturous delight.

I grabbed her face with both my hands and pulled her to her feet, her finger's slick exit from my butt jolting me into a frenzy and I kissed her with the frustration of time moving too slowly for my already racing mind. I took her wrist in my hand and placed her sickly-sweet finger in my mouth, sucking it clean and then eagerly mingling our saliva once more. Her mouth was the orifice of my destiny and I could feel myself falling deep down the recesses of her dark throat to go and rest in the bowels of the earth.

I took my dick in my hand and foraged with its tip for the delicious hole it demanded as refuge. She was somewhat shorter than I but only in so much that our bodies were in perfect synchrony. I took her ass in both my hands then, again rejoicing at the thought of it parting so delightfully, and lifted her onto my shaft. She gasped. Her pussy was velvety and soft and it embraced me as though we had been poured like liquid into one another. The crooks of my arms supported the backs of her knees and her face was buried in my neck, breathing hard, my every thrust forcing her to hold on tightly with her arms slung under mine, meeting at my shoulders.

We were a well-oiled machine, her juices lubricating my pulsating shaft, my buttocks and back working feverishly to reach the center of her being. She bit my ear and kissed my neck voraciously. I adjusted my arms to support her back with my palms and leaned back against the dam. She in turn leaned back to reveal her jiggling breasts and the rolls of her stomach which I found maddening. She purred and crooned and moaned for me, her hands frantically caressing and rubbing and grabbing, moving quickly from my body to hers and back again.

Both of us were sweating heavily and the smell of our bodies was intoxicating. I stopped to smell her pussy which was planted firmly on my pelvis, the plumes of its scent an aphrodisiac without compare. Slowly, I moved in and out, in and out of her. Both of her arms had moved to her breasts and I noticed her unshaven pits now for the first time, like an Amazon, a woman stronger and more cunning than mere societal mores. She again slipped her one arm down to her clit and I fucked her slowly while she pulsed herself into a frenzy, sounding the bays of her lust for the lighthouse of climax.

The sight of her massive clit, like a glistening pearl, overcame my senses and I carried her reverently to the hood of her car which was by now molten by the golden rays of the sun. Her cold, hard breasts pressed into my chest as I lay her there, her legs draping across its grill to almost touch the ground. I unspooled our bodies and eagerly proceeded to claim my prize. Her pussy was divine, a holy place reserved for only the most devout followers of her cult. I knelt before my goddess, humbled by the gift she had deigned to bestow. I gently took her in my mouth, running my thumbs carefully from the base of her vagina all along her labia and into the creases of her thighs to meet her hips. I brushed her stomach, it catching playfully with each touch, sending shivers across her body and goose flesh down her thighs so that I could sense its spread alongside my face. Her bellybutton seemed to me the height of erotic desire, my forefinger prodding it and tugging at its perimeter, sunken as it was from the heavenly plane of her abdomen.

I curled my tongue around her clit and licked it from side to side, pressing the full area of it into her. She tasted like an animal, sour and salty, and my cock throbbed as the thought of her spore inhabiting my senses plumbed my fantasies. I shook my head from side to side, keeping the tip of my tongue fixed on her clitoris, creating waves of exquisite ecstasy all along her body. She arched her back, balancing her torso on the crown of her head and dug nails like talons into my shoulders, throwing them back suddenly to clutch her head. She moaned as if in heat and her hair fell back to the car's hood, like a halo around her face.

I ran my tongue up and down the sticky, salty insides of her lips and steadily flexed my dick and anus, imagining myself impregnating this impassioned nymph. Fluids poured gently down my penis into my pubes and off my balls onto the ground as an offering to her. She cupped her breasts as I stuck three fingers deep into her and started vigorously swishing her clit in every direction, gyrating my head and tongue into a vortex of sexual fervor. I could feel the round crater of her cervix and delighted in the way she rounded her mouth to croon and sigh for me, when I cast my eyes up towards her face, as I played along its edge. I stretched my fingers out as far as I could, seeking to anchor them against the walls of her vagina. She grabbed my head and pressed it hard into her pussy, forcing me to work my tongue to keep it in motion. She was a harsh mistress but would, I assumed, reward her faithful servant handsomely.

I steadied the rhythm of my tongue, slowing down, and used my little finger to gently press on her anus and my thumb to rub the sides of her lips. The feeling of her wiry pubes in my mouth was like being invaded by lush undergrowth over untold millennia, their vernal curls a reminder of the virility this bestial woman possessed. I would stop periodically to sweetly take her between my teeth, teasing her so that she dug her nails deeper into my scalp. Finally, I grabbed her right breast in my free hand and squeezed hard, as if to control the sexual energy that thronged from her body. She tightened her legs around my head and I took it as a sign to grab both her thighs with my hands and to press them into me even harder. She came magnificently, eventually losing control of her bladder and drenching me with her piss. I reveled in the smut of it and made sure to keep her fixed to my face, even though she squirmed as wave after wave of orgasm broke across her. I will never forget the muffled screams of pleasure as she tried to cover her mouth.

She lay there with a glow about her, seemingly spent, as I stood up from between her legs with my dick as hard as diamonds. I moved to slip back into her and she faced me suddenly, grabbing my cheeks in her hand and fixed our gazes. "Fuck me hard!" she demanded, her voice no longer her own but that of the carnal force she was channeling. I slid her butt off of the car so that she was balanced on her back and straddled her with my legs, pinning her thighs to her stomach with my hands. She stroked my dick up and down her warm vagina and teased herself just enough for a fury to awaken in those eyes like emerald fires, flecked as they were by golden brown.