INTO THE WILD   -  PART II

Sex in the woods is overrated, I thought for the longest time. I still remember with embarrassment my awkward attempts as a teenager, during my first camping trips with girls I had sworn my life to, and whose names I hardly recall now.
No, really, those rough blankets, the pine leaves under you, the uncomfortable rustling of the sleeping bags, the fear of the passers-by, and that damn stone digging into your side, all those things remain sharp in my memory. Romantic it may be, exciting it sure is, but practical? No way. I’m a man of comforts. Give me deep pillows, soft mattresses and / or hot bathtubs any day. The woodsmen can enjoy their fun. I’m a spoiled urbanite.

Now, when said mattress is a living, breathing ground of warm soft  flagrant feminine flesh, radiating its own heat and shaking with intimate tremors that would shame any decent  earthquake into suicidal thoughts, well, love in the wild does seem to take a different tint altogether.

…………………………………………..

Noeleen is reading the next play she’s due to direct this autumn. I thought her early moves tonite were indicative of a foreplay of “tsunamical” proportions, but hell, we’re both knackered, sleepy, and in the grip of this famous mountain fresh air, which, far from boosting our vitality as advertised,  is right now stunning us into deep apathy. Anyway, I was adamant I wasn’t going to perform any heroics tonight. (That how I call sex these days.)
 
 The tent is rustling to the whims of the wind outside. I also hear the quick pace of insect on the synthetic fabric, which never fails to irritate me. A lone little gnat (the size of my hand, mind you) is banging its head against the tent roof, far far above and that worries me a bit as well. But hey, we’re as snug as bugs in a rug, enjoying the unusual sounds from the camping site. I am lying on Noeleen’s breast, faced with the vast pages of her book. I can read it fine, as one does a torrentially verbose ad on a double bill board.

“This, Noeleen, is a crock of shite,” I sincerely offer (I am fond of astute and articulated critiques) .
“You think so?”  Her voice comes from somewhere high behind me, and every word brushes over me as a warm breeze.
“Positive. 100%. No doubt about it. Shite it is, and manure it should become. Give it up, sweetie, before it runs you, and everyone blind enough to follow you, into early retirement.”
“Oh.”
I wait in silence for any more comments. Instead, huge fingers turn the vast page,  that nearly brush my feet in its motion. I sigh, and look up to find the start of the next sentence above.
Under me, the powerful lungs are inhaling vast quantities of “Fresh Mountain Air” ™, lifting me up and down, like an invisible sea. In the confined space of the tent, I find myself worrying there won’t be enough left for me. The gentle thud of her heartbeat is puncturing the silence, like perfect clockwork. This is bliss with a capital B. I think I should spoil it, before it’s too late.
“All right. I predict that in the end, her sister will be locked up in a loony farm, her father will reappear in the last two pages and she’ll be considering self-termination as a viable career plan. Can we sleep now?”
The sigh she heaves just now is elevating me by a good three “feet”. I see the fingers reaching for the last pages. I close my eyes, concentrating on the smell of her nearby nipple, a deep meaningful literary pursuit if any. A minute later, the book closes with a sudden thunderclap that really startles me.
“Your highness?”
“She’s looking at a gun, her father is in the bedroom upstairs. The sister is gone to some asylum, it seems.”
 “Well, you should thank me, Noeleen. I saved you from sixty more pages of dross.”
“Looks like it, all right.”. I can “hear” her smile from here. “….Smartass”. She adds in a whisper.
“You’re welcome, my love” , I say, tapping her soft breast under me with the flat of my hand.

She’s starting the Yawn. I turn round to see this, as I do each time we go to bed. The vast mouth above me is opening up to an unbelievable extent. I get to stare in amazement at the complex geography of my girl’s mouth, with its tombstone-like teeth, the cavernous palate, the near sentient-moving tongue, and beyond, the hollow darkness of her incredible throat. I’m a-washed with a warm gale, carrying scents from a subterranean world too alien to contemplate. It goes on forever. I blink when I spot the tiny gnat that foolishly buzzes in at full speed and hits the wall of her palate, where it stays stuck. When the wondrous lips close again, a loud gulping noise announces the dispatch of any saliva (and of the unfortunate gnat) into the deep abyss of her being. She never even noticed the little intruder.
“Ten!” I shout. I always rate her yawning: it never fails to makes her giggle. That topples me down her breast onto her belly. I lie down pensively on it, wondering about the tiny struggle that must be taking place below the soft skin.

Two fingers set on my body.
“Okey, buster, the visit is over. Don’t forget the guide”. She places me in front of her lips, I bury my face in them, in lieu of a tip. Noeleen sets me inside the box she keeps near her pillow, where my make-shift bed is waiting. She adjusts the well needed mosquito net. We’re heading towards dreamland. I listen to the deep rustling of her vast body inserting itself into the sleeping bag. It seems ages elapse before she manages to find the adequate position. Our inflatable mattress is hardly the best defence against the uneven ground. For once, I’m thankful for my size, comfy as I am, in my little box.

I listen to the stream outside, and the soothing splashing of its waters. I just love camping. You feel the entire mountain is alive around you, and the night bristles with strange life and  uncharted events. Not a single engine sound or traffic can be heard. The full moon must have broken through the clouds, and permeates the tent with a …
“Noeleen, will you quit moving around? What’s wrong with you? You’re supposed to fall asleep like a mass at this altitude.”
More motion occurs, and a grunt is the only answer. A minute later, I sense a shadow covering my box. When I open my eyes, the huge face of my girl is looming over me like a sudden and dark storm cloud.
“What’s wrong , sweetie? Finding it hard to sleep? Do you need anything?”
“I can’t find it.”, comes a deep whisper. More motion appears on my right. I stand up in the box , and see Noeleen’s hand rummaging through her stuff.
What? What you lookin’ for?”
“I was sure it was there”. Noeleen’s voice is plaintive and anxious, like a little girl’s.
“ What is it? Tell me, I’ll help you. Your earplugs? Do you need a jumper?”
“Damn, I was sure I had taken it with me.” Her voice is brimming with frustration.
“Noeleen, just tell me what…”
“My dildo, I can’t find it, I’m positive I took it with me”
“WHAT????!!!!! You brought what??!!! Here??? Since when do you….????.” My heart is in my throat with indignation and shock.
“Oups… Silly me… It’s right here.”
I turn my head in all directions, looking for the ignoble thing.
A large smile glistens above me for a second. Enormous thumb and index finger set on my sides and lift me out of the box, as Noeleen lets out a deep sigh of relief. I’m lifted briefly over her reclining head ( Her hair is like a black explosion around her moonlit face) before being introduced into the dark abyss of her sleeping bag. “Noeleen !!! You fiend!!!”

I am deposited in the total darkness of a hot cavern. I know I’m lying on her belly, because of the gurgling sounds below my feet. The air is warm and musty. The entrance of the cavern behind me widens up a bit and I see far ahead the twin shadows of her breasts obstructing the exit, as she introduces her other hand near me. A vast commotion takes place. I sense more than I see the motion of giant thighs lifting up in front of me, brushing against the fabric of the sleeping bag. Another sound of fabric. Cotton sliding against skin. It ascends up above me, fumbles at the knees and then comes down again along the legs. A sudden whiff of a very familiar smell comes to me from the darkness ahead. I brace myself against my animal side. I still need to go back out and let the fiend know what a lousy joke this was. My honor depends upon it, dammit…!. A second later, my lower self is in full flag, as I listen to the panties being discarded in the depths of the sleeping bag by the invisible feet.
Light pours in behind me as Noeleen is lifting the entrance. I see her eyes, focused on me, and her little girl’s smile again.
“Young lord of the dark mountains, you wouldn’t refuse a welcome party to your lands to this poor damsel in distress, would you?”
“Lady, our mountains are all for you to enjoy”, I say, “and your ungraceful “faux-pas” may still be forgiven, but, I pray thee, what will you offer us in return?”
“My lord, if you hasten Southwards, you will find a treasure I brought for you from my estranged kingdom. It’s freely given, and I prey thee in return to give it your full attention.”

I feel grasped by her right hand , briefly lifted in the dark and gently set on a warm bed of scented pubic hair. The aroma around me is pushing aside all social graces and I just give a glance back to my girl yonder (whose left hand has settled on her breast, I notice) before crawling on all four towards the deep valley of her thighs.

What is awaiting me down the road hasn’t always been easy to cope with. When Noeleen told me on that fateful day “Straighten up, will you.”, on that road , when she first had the feeling I wasn’t as tall as I should be, how could I have ever been able to conceive this simple sentence was not only inadvertently introducing me to a totally new world, but in a way to a totally new biology?

Like a lot of guys, I guess, my discovery of sex hadn’t found me exactly thrilled at the literal contemplation of the other sex. Fascinated, yes, definitely, aesthetically pleased, well, no, not really. The feminine sex seemed to me then a mysterious object, with its many folds and hidden promises, its unseen space and inner flesh. I never really took the time, as a newbie to the game of love, to really gaze at it, to really explore its strange biology. I was far more fascinated by the girl’s body I was seeing and touching, and by the final miracle of the penetration and its consequences. Yet came a time for me when I could not escape the geography of an organ that was quickly turning into… a place.

The Shrinking had brought much misery to us during the first stages, and our (partial) victory over the insidious enemy owes much to our mutual acceptance of the new rules of the game. Little by little, my dwindling self was confronted by the subjective enlargement of Noeleen’s sex. The act of love, which had  quickly  become the time for the thrilling exploration of a wonderful feminine landscape, had  also been at first a brutal confrontation between me and that hungry organ, that wet aperture, that vital space I could no longer adequately fill. It took some serious love and understanding and trust to cope with  the claustrophobic and  liquid world that was opening to me. The very first time I actually inserted my whole body in the hot and wet and throbbing cavern  of flesh, I had nothing but this love (and admittedly a zealous enthusiasm) to overcome a really tangible fear.

I love this part now. As I let myself hang from the strong pubic hairs, I cannot see anything yet all my body is moving to its goal with undeterred aplomb. I know what I want, and I’m gonna get it, that’s about the gist of it. The scent of Noeleen’s sex is so overwhelming, all playfulness has been replaced in my head by a primal urgency. In the increasing heat inside the sleeping bag, the air is so full of this smell my head is dizzy, my breathing laboured, and my joy unabated. I feel Noeleen’s slow rhythmic motion, feel the impressive presence of the crushing thighs around me. I only get apprehensive, when, my too feet already deep within the labia, I hesitate to let go of the hairs to find purchase below. I fear for a split second the fall backward in the darkness, the risky landing on the sleeping bag floor, in front of a crushing wall of flesh, as Noeleen’s is really getting agitated.

Of course, this is silly, and I do let go. And Noeleen’s fingers come of course in the nick of time to press me against  her burning cleft. My body is already totally drenched in her fluids, and I can hear her soft moaning far, far away. I tentatively begin to insert my foot inside, my dick raging against the warm flesh that begins to surround me, when suddenly the large finger pad in my back is pressing me hard, lifting me up and sliding my body against the swollen folds.

Damn, I guess I forgot to take care of an important step. Noeleen’s clitoris is shaming my dick into oblivion, (its all right, I’m used to the feeling) and it obviously needs my immediate attention. That suits fine anyway, cos’ I find I have developed a very good  working relationship with it over the past few years. Not to mention I do not wish to hear any complaint about machismo and insensitiveness to her needs from my enormous girl (in our arguments, she tends to get the upper hand for some reason). For a few enthusiastic minutes I make sure she understands I got her subtle message, and a loud gasp from beyond the darkness tells me she may not complain too much tomorrow. That box is ticked, now where was I? Oh yes, breaking and entering was my simple program…

The frenzy that greets me deep inside her is always an awesome reminder of the near symbiotic relationship we have achieved. My eyes and mouth closed, I immerse myself in a furnace of flesh where my simple presence triggers a wondrous response.  Every gesture I make, any contortion I go through is answered by the swift inner motions of her sensitive flesh. Noeleen’s vagina is espousing my very being with its flesh, reacting, pressing, and convulsing in a powerful crescendo. The world is nothing but scent, flesh and the increasing sloshing of Noeleen’s pleasure. I hear beyond the nearby liquid noises, the deeper gurgles of her body, the vast workings of her digestive system nearby. (I do feel at times so totally humbled, nearly erased, immersed as I am within her body, but that never lasts long : commandeering for a few minutes the sensations of this enormous world always brings my ego to inversely proportional heights, all things considered.)

After a few exhausting but immensely pleasurable minutes, the hot walls around me start pulsating in a less responsive way, pressing harder on me, taking on their own rhythm, as Noeleen loses her control in the overwhelming needs and sensations of her orgasm. Myself, I’m adding my tiny contribution to the torrential world around me, the darkness turning into a deep white tunnel of light. As the pulsations increase, I just have time to brace myself for impact….

I fall exhausted on the soaked sleeping bag, surrounded by the invisible but still trembling walls of the massive thighs. I hear Noeleen breathing deeply and chaotically still, as I crawl away from her heaving bottom. ( I was slow on the up-take once, and found myself neatly stuck between sweaty ass-cheeks, an experience that filled Noeleen with glee, but that I’m reluctant to repeat). The heat around me is unbelievable and I can only hope the damsel is going to remember her “ dildo” needs to breathe once in a while.

Just as I offer this silent prayer to the God of the Shrinkee, the sleeping bag is shaken by a thunderous ripping noise. Oh no, oh no. She didn’t dare, did she? As the vast cave fills up with the heinous smell, and as I duck for cover, I hear the roar of laughter explode somewhere in the outside world. A second later fumbling hands frantically unzip the bag, and the moonlit inside of the tent appears above me.
Noeleen is bringing my lifeless body to her lips, and give me a tremendous kiss (made somewhat chaotic by her laughter). Alas, I am dead to the world, inert in her hand.
“Ow, come on, stop it, you silly, you know it was accidental, and after all it was your good work that relaxed me so well.”
But she’s talking to a hero betrayed in the most ignominious way, and fallen in the line of duty. His body is all she can throw her sarcasms at.
“Oh, man, I feel another one coming. You’re so dead, you won’t mind meeting this one close and personal, will you, then? “, manages to hiccup the Fiend.
“Noeleen, do this, and I will kick your ass into kingdom come!” I roar, sitting in her palm like a doll on springs.
"All right, all right. Just kidding, don't get your panties in a knot, buster", she laughs. "Mmmmmm, what you did tonite was really great!" she adds with a purr in her voice, and a twinkle in her eyes. she sets me near her head, on a cushion of brown hair. "I especially liked the part where..." and on and on she goes, describing to me the last events, as if I hadn't been there.... Girls....

We sleep through our first night in the mountains like angels on their clouds.

tbc

nostromo