Continuing the First Time From Behind series with erotica by our visiting writer: DeliriumTree
Leaves crunch underfoot in a satisfactory rhythm.  I smile, abandoning civilization in small parcels of footsteps, if only for a time. I need it. To have the noise and chaos of the human world slide away, it’s more than freedom, it’s a necessary tending to relative sanity. I go deeper into the woods, noting the trees as I pass so I don’t lose my way.  I hike until society’s echo is vanquished by the natural world.  I lose myself in the sound of wind, birds, a nearby creek and crunching leaves.  Wait.

I am at a standstill.   My eyes scan for deer, a busy squirrel, for some sign of life.  Silence absorbs all sound. Only my beating heart invades the stillness.  I move forth, listening to footfalls that seem like more.  The feeling of being watched pervades. I pause listening to hushed seclusion.  Am I imagining it?  I have to be. I’m nowhere.  Just because you’re paranoid, doesn’t mean…  I sever that thought.  The feeling of being watched persists.  Alarmed, I find I’m right.

Dark hair, pale skin, his green eyes follow me.  I watch his knuckles flush white.  He grips the bark of a tree as if he’s bracing, holding himself back.  Lips twitch in a smile, wolfish and predatory. He takes a commanding step forward, distills into whiteness and disappears. It’s time to turn back.

Disorientation, I find the forest itself has shifted somehow.  I search in vain for remembered markings.  A bent branch that distinguished itself, that certain raised whorl of knotted oak, they are all lost to me now.  My system that has never failed me crumbles in defeat.  A strange ring of mushrooms surrounds my feet and once again I’m met with strange green eyes and a wolfish smile.

I turn and walk faster. A cautious backward glance resolves lingering denial that it’s me he wants. He stalks behind arrogant and calm. I halt to meet his challenge as he rewards me with a menacing smile.  He bows, spreads his black cloak of raven feathers. His eyes lock on mine and the grin widens.  Whatever the fuck he is.  He’s toying with me. I break into a run.  I race further into mystery beyond the constructed woodland paths and those that could help. Panic dictates direction.  Branches brand my skin with red streaks as I tear through. My breath catches in my throat at the impact of another body meeting my own.  Unfamiliar arms wrap me and a voice breathes “Be still.”

Seconds pass, I listen to the sound of his breath mingle with mine. His skin feels warm against my own, almost hot.  The comfort of fear relinquishes as his hands traverse my sides and waist.  His lips slide over the hollow of my neck up to my ear.  I hear an odd whimper escape my lips.  I lean back against his chest and my eyes close.  The feeling of flesh gives way to rough bark.

I turn my hands tracing over a tree and search its patterns for answers.  I’m obviously very tired to be conjuring such hallucinations.  I walk, hoping to find solace in concrete.  A circle of rock registers a wrong turn taken somewhere.  As if drawn I move to the center of the circle, where a large flat rock stands. I brush the surface, considering, oddly absorbed.  Hands grip my waist again as lips inch towards my ear.  I know I should be shrieking, fighting.  Despite reason, I remain complacent, just as he had bade me. Even as cloth rips and I’m stripped bare, I am still. The hover of breath against my skin makes me shiver. His hands slide over my breasts, fingers read the map of my body as if I am made of braille. His mouth licks, sucks and bites placing new landmarks upon the trail of my spine. I close my eyes as he teases me lower, only to reject my desires.  A hand smooths my hair and meets my shoulder blades. The flat of his palm pushes with gentle insistence.  He eases me down, baring my ass to him over the stone.  My eyes widen as I feel the heat of his cock nudge the folds of my slit open. Hands grasp my hips and with one sharp movement I’m shoved against the rock as he settles deep within. He growls as he takes me, his body hot against mine. I lay my head against the cool, smooth stone washed in contrast. My calves tremble, the force of his thrusts inch me forward, raise me unwillingly on tiptoe.  I shudder beneath him until something slashes me from inside and forces me to come. He tenses against me, helpless as my body demands the same of him.  His hands trace the curve of my spine with an almost affection as the heat of him leaves my body.  I feel a kiss at the nape of my neck as I catch my breath.  He lifts me, cradles me in his lap like a limp doll.  I drift into dream.  My last moment of consciousness that of a hand sifting through the locks of my hair and a feeling of unrelenting happiness.

A glint of sunlight disentangles me from a dreamless void.  Time irrelevant in the moment, I slowly collect myself and shake off the remnants of what had to be a dream. I shift from my forest bed, to find I’m clothed, near the path to my car and wrapped in a cloak of raven feathers.  I wrap the gift tighter around me, the warm trickle of him down my thigh makes me grin.

The end

Latest Comments

  1. Paul says:

    DeliriumTree, I love this, the mixture of sex, forest and were-beasts appeals to me greatly.
    It reminds me a little of Lohengrin.

  2. nilla says:

    oh….yum….the mysterious green man, come to play…

    a delight for all the senses! Thank you!


  3. willcrimson says:

    There are many different ways to perceive and tell the truth. Aesop clothed truths in the archetype of fable and the best fairy tales survived because they told truths in the shape of metaphor and symbolism.

    We recognized them.

    Walking into the woods, like red riding hood, is to leave civilization: trading the known for the mysterious and safety for danger. Meeting someone for the first time, and having sex with them for the first time is like that. To a woman, a man is both the beautiful and inviting forest, and the were-beast that stalks her in the shadows of that beauty. In the story at least, I think the woman knowingly wanders into the forest, knows the ‘danger’ of the were-beast, fears and also desires it. She lets herself succumb to it.

    The feminine desire to be stalked, possessed, and to surrender is as archetypal as the masculine desire to pursue and possess.

    When I read this, I read a fairy tale about being taken from behind for the first time – the archetypal story of innocence wandering into the forest of masculine desire – seeking a union with the male desire she runs from. She *has* to run from it. If she doesn’t, then the feminine will have been thwarted. She *needs* to feel possessed. She needs to feel as though she has been made to surrender and submit, fully. She *wants* to merge with masculine desire, which is why she doesn’t shriek or fight. When the hand at her back gently pushes to her hands and knees, and when she allows herself to be pushed to her hands and knees, her orgasm has already begun. Perhaps she feels fully feminine for the first time? She merges with her lover’s darkness.

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