A Walk In The Woods
A story written for InMyHandsAudioErotica
Sound coming soon
Walk In The Woods – Male POV
The woods were dark and full of shadows. This was his favorite part of the path, where one world ended, and another world began. The branches of the trees were closely interwoven above and around the narrow walk, blocking out the sun. The air here was warm, drenched in an embracing promise. He had a soft place to stretch out and relax in the heat.
Until he heard the light step of a woman on the path.
She was careful, as if she picked her way among scattered stars of flowers, not wanting to crush a single petal. In silence he watched her, a basket in her hand, taking the short-cut through the woods, but in no hurry to reach her destination.
She must know of the dangers. This part of the wood held a reputation for dark lurking things.
Her dress flashed bright in the dim, flags of translucent, tempting white. Her blouse, low and square across her chest, revealed the exposed base of her throat, the gentle lines of her clavicles, and sloping curves of her breasts.
Sensitive skin. Kissed with the humid air.
As yet, untouched. Unmarked.
She moved free and sensuous unbound by all restraints. His dark, hungry self uncoiled and stretched. Readied. Blooded tension filling his muscles, his limbs. It looked to him like she wore no undergarments - the excess trappings and bindings of life discarded before coming to this deep, dark wood.
She was an invitation to a wolf like him-a hungry monster of a male. He couldn’t remember the last time he feasted on a woman or held a female soft and receptive beneath his hands, his body and his bite.
Coming out from the trees, he blocked her path, offering her his best smile of welcome. Her restless daring made his mouth water.
“Hello there,” he said, as if licking at a sticky drip of glowing, golden honey.
A tiny gasp escaped her, a burst of breath past full lips he found enticing. He saw the rise of her breasts beneath the thin, clinging cotton of her top, shadows shifting as she raised her arms, and pulled her basket to her chest.
A defensive response, but she did not run. She didn’t even look around for a way to escape. Her hands clenched and unclenched and hips shifted beneath her skirts, from side to side, as if the humid moisture of this place clung and beaded in her swelling secret places.
Such delicious possibilities in discovering secrets. The idea slid down his spine in a flow of molten desire.
"Where are you going today, little girl?"
Bowed before, she straightened, and chin lifting. She was not a little girl; he was well aware. But he knew to watch for how a woman responded to playful endearments. When she lowered her backet, he saw the outline of peaked nipples. And her hips shifted yet again, legs rubbing. Were her inner muscles clenching? He was Hunter, aware of all the signals she sent him. The ones she planned and the ones she had not.
He waited for her answer, smiling and open, letting his intention show in his eyes as he took in her presence in this space. His space. Giving in to the urge, he swiped his tongue over his bottom lip, teasing her. Tempting her.
All she needed to do was say the words, and he could be using his tongue to lick other places, seek out other tastes and textures. Intentionally, he softened his aggression, cocked his head, rolled his shoulders and opened his arms, daring her to touch him and discover where curiosity might take her.
He was blatant invitation.
They were all alone here. Enclosed in the velvet heat of a pine needle bed. Anything could happen. She could be who she wanted to be- he would not reject her. From virginal innocence to educated courtesan, none of that mattered if she consented to his fingers on her skin and his hands discovering secrets.
His cock warmed, swelled, ready for her answer.
Together, they were the cusp of a whisper, the answer to an intimate question, the unfolding of carnal, raw knowledge. The hum of anticipation singed his belly with building urgency. He said, “Perhaps you are going nowhere. Perhaps you were just coming here. To me?"
He took one step towards her.
She took two steps back.
His growl escaped him. Rather than send her running, his sound rippled over her skin, her gasps turned to swallowed moans. She felt him.
She liked it.
The pink of her cheeks deepened down her neck. Lower. How low? Her breaths turned to pants. Shielding her eyes from his knowledge, she tried to hide herself, but her body responded honestly when her mind confused simple questions. He recognized the contradictions.
But her yes was undecided.
He grinned at her, let his smile split wide. As sweet as a lamb, as careful as a vixen, she did not know who she wanted to be today. But he–he had no doubt of his hunter, his hunger, or his wolf. Predator need flooded his senses, full and hard, the want leashed with her continued silence.
The scent of her danced, a perfume quivering with her quickened heartbeat right at the edge of his awareness. Deliberately, he covered her with a half lidded lambent gaze, bold with the hot of his desire to chase down that scent and capture it for his own.
She watched, mesmerized, as he licked his bottom lip again, tasting the salty musk of a curious, needy woman in the air.
How she wanted to pet him. And he knew it.
He knew it.
What price could he make her pay for the privilege?