The Woods

After the pool, I called him. Had to. We planned to meet but the times never fit, the locations never matched, then I thought of the woodlands nearby, asked him if he fancied taking a risk.

I brought a dog lead with me, thinking if anyone saw us, I could say we were looking for a dog. Even as I thought it, I found myself picturing the lead around my neck, myself on my knees, serving him. Tasting him again. Jesus. It had been over a week since the pool, and none of it had faded. The taste. The smell. The raw nature of everything that had happened, that had unfolded. On my knees like a slut. (oh wow). I remembered seeing the imprints of the tiles on my knees. I remembered tasting him all the way home. Salty. Sticky. So warm. A new flavour. Like a new tone added to the texture of life itself. So wrong it was perfectly right. I'd felt new all the way home. I was different. Exciting. More. Everything else was so dull, so bland. My heart hadn't raced since. Nothing else was interesting, nothing made the butterflies in my stomach wake up. I had jerked off, replaying every second, but it was one dimensional. No danger. No thrill. No heat. I wanted more, but I barely understood what that meant.

Jesus. What did I want him to do to me? That question, its unresolved nature, its abandon, its freedom, exhilarated me. With each step the excitement increased. It felt like anything could happen. I was eager to lose control, which was frightening, exhilarating. The butterflies were back. Afraid, abandoned, giddy. It was an astonishing thing to know that I wouldn't hesitate to drop to my knees to him, that I wanted him to see how eager to please I was.

He was waiting in the car park. I nodded at him, and he walked ahead of me. We didn't speak, didn't exchange knowing looks. We just waited. I followed him deep into the woods. All around us the world went soft, dim, quiet. Just layers of green, waves receding.

I was daydreaming, my mind was overwhelmed. When I looked at him again he had stopped. He was staring at me. "Okay?"

I looked around. Did he mean the location? Did he want to know how I felt? Did he care? I just nodded. "I haven't stopped thinking about it," I said, I had to fill the silence. He just nodded as well. He was nervous, I realised. He wasn't a mind reader, he didn't know what I wanted, what I needed. I showed him the dog lead. I'd mentioned it, right? He wouldn't think I was daft. He just smirked. I stepped closer to him, I looked around, we were totally alone. God. What if someone came by? Heard?

"Get down," he said.

My gaze darted back to him. In one second the world beyond died. There was nothing real but him. Me. Us. "On my knees?"

"No," his voice was different, husky, "hands and knees."

My mind was blank for a second, I was already getting in the position, dutifully, when my mind caught up. "Take it all off," he added. Oh. Oh wow. He wanted to fuck me, maybe? I'd thought about it, but I couldn't imagine it. I tried to imagine him inside me. I was afraid it would hurt. But just the thought of him pumping into me, hands on my hips, like I had done to girls before me- now I was the one getting the pleasure I had worked to give them.

He could see me unpacking it all in my mind. "Don't worry, you'll like it. I can tell."

I nodded. Dumb. Ready. The clothes slipped off. I didn't try to be sexy, I tried to be available. Wanton. I wasn't especially toned, but I tried to take care of myself. I felt oddly embarrassed, exposed. He didn't comment on my body. I piled my clothes into a small heap and looked up. He took the lead from me and collared me. Just like that.

"Good boy," he said. My lips were dry. This was happening. He started to undo his belt, and there it was, that cock I had been stunned by, overcome by. The smell was back in my nose, the drool was kicking in the back of my throat.

"Tell me how much you want it." His voice was hoarse.

What fucking good were words now? I could show him. He wanted to own me right now. That hit me, and nothing had ever felt sexier. I had never felt sexier. "I want to make you cum," I said, "I want you to fuck my face, and use me to get yourself off. I haven't been able to think of anything but your cock since I saw it..." He was stroking himself now.

"Beg."

"Please," I opened my mouth. My mind was blank, just watching the stroking. Up and down. The long clean pink shaft. "Please. Just... please..."

He smiled. Then he stepped forwards, and gave it to me. On my hand and knees, collared, in the middle of the fucking woods, I bobbed my head and sucked his cock like an animal born to it. Like an obedient slave enjoying it. Like a good boy. I closed my eyes. My drool slipped down my chin, I felt it slap my chest with a slick wet drop. He was grunting. Fingers were back in my hair, clutching in that way they had last time. I wanted to thank him. I breathed through my nose. Delirious. He pulled out and gently slapped my face with his thick swollen meat. I had made him hard. He was thanking me. He was going to take his time.

"Keep me hard, dog," he said. Jesus. It would be hard to get this out of my head. I sucked, trying to sate him. He filled my mouth so much, but I tried to go deeper, tried to give him more. I thought of every lick and trick that every girl had ever performed on me. Had it all been stored up for this? I don't know how long I kept going for, but he suddenly pulled back and grunted. "Turn around."

I turned, still on my knees. He pushed me forward, then grabbed my hips and stroked my arse. I shivered. He lubed his finger, probably with spit, then worked it in. There were no more words. Just straining sounds, little grunts and thrusts. I reached back and pulled my cheeks apart. I could hear him kicking his jeans down. He took my collar in one hand and pulled, causing me to sit up. The tugging sensation at my throat made me rock hard.

The tip of him entered me, and I took a deep breath. "Always wanted this," I heard him mutter. I was fulfilling a fantasy for him.

"It's yours," I said. My voice had gone naturally low, not feminine, but definitely subservient. He started to thrust, and I leaned back into him. He fucked me like this for as long as he could. Opening me up, filling me. Time had no meaning, not here. I chewed my lip, absorbing every dirty sensation. His fingertips digging into my hips (did they feel soft, slender?). Those quick urgent tugs at the collar (was I his, had nobody ever given him their body like this?). Drops of his sweat hitting my back (we were both animals). The little sharp slaps he gave my arse each time he worked his way inside a little deeper (mark me, please. I said this out loud and he fucked me harder). The names he called me (each better than the last. Good boy. Good girl. Fuck slut. Dog. Bitch. Mine).

Yes to all.

After a series of perfect moments, all made of flesh and sweat- more than I'd ever known- he grabbed my hips and then came loudly. It shot up inside me. Thick sticky bursts. So warm, so good. Like nothing I'd ever felt before. Dirty. Sexy. Sticky. Lovely.

His weight pushed me down, and I lay flat, breathing deeply. "Thank you," I said. My mind was spent. This was too much, too intense.

He just stroked my hair. After a moment, he jerked the lead a last time. "You're fucking hot, you know that?"

I blushed. My own hard on was painful below me, but I didn't know what to say. "Thanks."

We lay there for a while. There wasn't much talking. We slowly separated, ungluing from each other. I didn't clean myself. I was thrilled at being messy. I jerked off while he watched. He finished me off, and I came in his mouth, sputtering and shaking like an idiot. I'd never felt so spent, so drained. Watching him do that for me, his head slowly bobbing, it felt so intimate. So different. We were close, bonded. Like we'd shared out true nature with each other, and knew the other valued it.

We dressed quietly, talking about doing this again. He asked me if I wanted to do this somewhere private? I realised that anyone could have found us. What a sight they would have seen. I wondered what they would have thought of me, and my cock got hard again. "I don't mind," I said. I couldn't believe I said it. He just laughed.

I walked back to my car, as I sat behind the wheel, I realised I still had the collar on. I didn't want to take it off. Did I have to?

Delaying the moment, I drove home with it on, and I belonged to him all the way.