The Wildman's Surrender

Everything was hot. When I forced my eyes open, I saw a wall of fire in front of me and it took my throbbing head a moment to recognize it as my own fireplace, piled high with roaring logs. I was laid out on the rug in front of the hearth, covered in the nastiest blanket I'd ever smelled in my life. My whole body was shivering, but I was so delirious with fever that I kicked the nasty thing off. Underneath I was naked but for a sheen of sweat glistening in the fire light.

I didn't realize the stinky blanket was actually the wildman's pelt coat until he hurried over to put it back on me. Buck naked and clean from the lake water, the young man's body was an incredible thing to behold. He had even more shredded muscle mass than I had at his age, and of course none of the soft layer of fat I'd been letting build up ever since leaving the service. Don't get me wrong, I was still in better shape than probably eighty percent of the world, but a couple years ago I'd have said ninety-nine.

I touched the back of my head and my hand came away covered in tiny flowers sticky with blood. The wildman must have used the yarrow from his pack to staunch my bleeding. Clever savage. He tried to lay his jacket back over me, but in my delirium, I tried to push him away. After a lifetime building my identity around being big and strong, I had a hard time submitting to being cared for in the best of circumstances, so when his huge hand finally pushed me down, my fevered mind made me feel like a skinny kid getting bullied in a locker room again. I was ashamed to be so small and naked next to this atlas in the prime of his life.

I passed out for a while and woke up shivering under the wildman's fur coat. The first thing my eyes focused on was the silhouette of his hairy young balls from behind. Barely a foot in front of my face, his sack was hanging low between his legs as he squatted in front of the fireplace. I knew I had a fever because my first thought was that he must have been chilly as hell back at the lake house. I'd rarely met anyone with bigger balls than me -- literally or figuratively -- but this twenty-something savage had me beat. Dangling warm in the fire's glow, they looked like a pair of eagle eggs stuffed in a wool ankle sock.

As my eyes travelled up the wildman's body, I gasped. The skin on his back was a canvas of nightmares. None of the scars were fresh, but based on the different degrees of healing, it looked like he'd spent a lot of his youth being abused. No wonder he preferred the woods.

The wildman pivoted to check I was okay, then returned to tossing plants and mushrooms from his pack into water simmering in a kitchen pot at the edge of the fireplace. After stirring the foul concoction with a stick for a while, he poured some of it into the World's Best Dad mug I never use any more and drank half of it in a single gulp. When he brought the cup to me it smelled so nasty I pushed his hand away. I had just enough to spill the tea, but the effort took the strength out of me.

The wildman huffed at me like an angry animal that couldn't quite bark and I braced for him to attack. Instead, he refilled the cup, sat down cross-legged next to my head, and took another sip to show me it was safe. Cocky mother fucker. I'd have flipped him off if I could have raised my arms.

I didn't have the strength to resist when the young giant reached under my shoulders and pulled me up to lay my head in his naked lap, or when he pried my mouth open with his rough fingers and poured the rest of the tea into me. I wanted to spit it out, but he stroked my throat with his other hand and my body soon complied. Resisting exhausted me, leaving me with no choice but to lay there breathing in the heady funk of his young bush while he stared down at me with those vacant blue eyes.

Seemingly out of nowhere, the pupils of the wildman's eyes grew big as saucers and his face eased into a smile. I was confused, but not for long. A few seconds later, the tea kicked in and the pain in my head all but disappeared. The wildman watched happily, smiling a stoner's grin as he saw the relief hit my face and my body started to relax. A warm sense of well-being spread out from my belly and I was soon mirroring his grin.

I lay there for a million years, happily giggling back at my young savior, growing more content to stay by the second. When I felt something warm tickle the back of my neck, it made me squirm and we both laughed. The silly wildman shifted my head on his lap and his growing cock sprang up and slapped me on my cheek. I laughed like an idiot, marveling at the size of the ridiculous thing. Just like every other part of his body, the wildman's veiny beast was superior to my own.

As if I weighed nothing, the young barbarian lifted me to sit up so he could uncross his legs, then laid me back down to rest my head on his uninjured thigh. The movement made his half-hard wiener bob around again and I giggled. As the wildman's big prick inflated like a balloon animal, he made it jump and twitch and I laughed and laughed. I was so mesmerized that I started batting at it like a kitten.

I was having a tough time staying awake when I felt the wildman start to touch me. I twitched and shivered as he ran his hand down my body, scared to have such a big, masculine hand so low on my abdomen, feeling how weak I'd become. I lay still as his long fingers pushed through the untamed pubes at the top of my jock and his sandpaper hand took hold of my package. My soft cock felt like a worm in a bear paw.

The smiling wildman grunted and squeezed my balls just enough to make me grunt too, the bastard. Seeing him trying to wake up my cock made me feel so vulnerable, I think I got even smaller. In my fevered mind, him touching me was different than when I toyed with his dick. I knew that I was straight, I just so happened to have my head in his naked lap and funny bro stuff happened. Sure, I had let him suck me off, but I was already hard that time. Him reaching under my jock now to manhandle my shriveled penis was somehow a shame I couldn't bear. I was too weak to actually push him away, but when I started shaking, he got the message. After giving my nuts one last squeeze, he withdrew and put his hand on my chest until I calmed down.

The wildman looked as tired as I felt, until his softening young dong flopped onto my face and we started laughing all over again. I knew you weren't supposed to let a concussion victim sleep for long, and I was starting to wonder if my new friend knew it too. Whenever I got sleepy and closed my eyes, he would grunt and lay his big sausage across my mouth or drag its slimy tip across my lips and I'd wake up laughing, happy to bat at it, or stroke it a little. There was a time when no man alive would have dared touch me with his dick, but this savage young stud was my physical superior in every way, and I felt an unfamiliar yearning to please him. We both laughed harder when he shifted under me and his foreskin accidentally slipped into my mouth.

The wildman playfully bopped my lips with his leaking dick head and drops of his man juice dropped right onto my tongue. It tasted almost exactly the same as my stuff did when he made me cum into my own mouth. Like two versions of the same meal made with different ingredients. The sensation it gave me brought to mind that dream all guys have about being able to suck our own dicks, so I opened wider and let his fat cockhead fall into my mouth, welcoming it as if it were my own.

If he had started to thrust, it would have broken whatever spell I was under, but we both seemed content as hell to let me suckle his spongy dick tip like a baby begging at the tit. Eventually, when my energy started to fade, the wildman gently moved me onto my side to give his shaft better access to my mouth. As he started moving his dick deeper in and out of me, he left a slime trail from the tip of my tongue to the back of my throat. The sweet salty taste was so good it made my eyes roll back in my head.

My fever dream about sucking myself off held strong for only as long as the young barbarian was content to be gentle in his use of me. When he started trying to force his fat cock into me as deep as he'd taken mine, I choked and gagged.

With a pissed-off grunt, the wildman pulled his warm cock from my mouth and got his leg out from under me. I thought we were done playing, but he moved up to a kneeling position and poised his huge dick over my mouth like a sweaty, uncut Sword of Damocles. He grunted at me and I opened wide.

In one stroke, the young god pushed past my gag reflex and buried my nose in his pubes. As he started to piston his hips, I pictured how his bulbous ass must look and wondered what all the people I'd dominated in my life would think if they could see him skull-fucking my compliant mouth right now. The wildman's grunts of pleasure were so intense, I felt proud to have even that small bit of control over the stud. My tongue instinctively moved to coax out more of his incredible pre cum to reward me with the taste.

The wildman didn't stop when exhaustion overtook me and I lost consciousness, he only slapped my face and fucked my mouth harder until I had to wake up to breathe. Determined not to let down the man who'd saved my life, I sucked that perfect monster cock down my gullet again and again, moaning around it to make my throat vibrate on the tip. My extra effort paid off and the wildman got the reward he so badly needed. I felt the first shots of his scalding baby batter hit the back of my throat and drank it all down before passing out into oblivion again.