Fear invaded my heart again as it hit me. Maybe I wasn’t out of danger yet. What if the person had brought me there to cause me harm, rape me? What if he had only saved me so he could butcher me to death? All the classic horror films—Friday the Thirteenth, Halloween, and Night of the Living Dead— raced through my mind. I jumped up from the bed, wrapping one of the quilts around me, and started looking for my clothes. I didn’t see them anywhere—not that there were many places for me to look.
I pulled out one of the dresser drawers, hoping to find something, anything I could cover up with, just so I wouldn’t have to run naked through the woods back to my cabin. Then it hit me that I had no idea where my cabin was. I didn’t even know which direction to run in if I did manage to escape. There was nothing in the top dresser drawer, so I pushed it back in. I had trouble pulling out the second drawer. It was crammed with so much clothing that I had to yank on it hard. When I did, something hit the floor on the right side of the dresser.
I looked down and saw a double-barreled shotgun. That did it! It was time to haul ass, clothes or no clothes, swollen ankle or no swollen ankle. The dog was still sitting there in the corner, gazing at me with wonder as I headed toward the door. It didn’t have an actual lock on it, just one of those long pieces of wood that slides across into a wooden bracket and holds the door shut. I felt like I was lost in time—the Wild, Wild West and shit.
I managed to get the door open and was ready to make a mad dash for my life, barefoot and naked if the quilt proved to hinder me in any way.
I ran right smack into his chest, and the boomerang effect pushed me back just far enough for me to look up at his face. I exhaled! I had found him, or rather he had found me. After all my dreams, after all these years, there he was in front of me—my knight in shining armor.
Tall, dark, and handsome. He was about six-two, around thirty years old, with a mocha complexion and as muscular as muscular gets. My dream, my fantasy, my knight. I walked backward into the cabin so he could bring in the wood that he had obviously gone to retrieve while I was sleeping. I pictured his muscles and physique as he stood out there chopping wood with an ax and wished I could have witnessed it.
We talked and talked. I told him my name was Imani and explained to him what I was doing up by the river, where my cabin was, what I did for a living, how I thought his dog was a killer bear, and how I ended up at the bottom of the river.
He told me his name was Deon. He was a carpenter in the city who also came out to the woods on the weekends to relax, blend in with nature, and do some occasional hunting. We chatted for hours, and he cooked me dinner out of tin cans. I was in love from the second I saw him.
He had the most beautiful eyes, the most beautiful smile, and the most beautiful skin. Hell, he had the most beautiful everything, and he made me feel so comfortable around him. I felt like I had known him all my life.
After dinner, Deon put a quilt on the floor over by the fire and massaged my ankle for me. All I had on was a huge flannel button-down shirt he gave me to put on. My clothes were outside, strewn about on logs so they could dry.
While he was rubbing my ankle, I began to wonder whether my fantasy could truly be completed or I was being delusional. I wanted to know if he could make my ass cum twenty times in one night. Twenty was kind of a high number to shoot for with a fucked-up ankle, but I was willing to give it my best shot.
I didn’t know how to broach the subject. Luckily, he did it for me by telling me how sexy I looked standing there in nothing but his quilt when I opened the door and barreled into him. How his heart almost jumped out his chest when I brushed up against it. How beautiful he thought I was when he first dove into the river and pulled me out. How sweet I smelled when he performed CPR on me. How he hadn’t been with a woman in over two years, since his wife was killed in an automobile accident two days before her thirtieth birthday. How no other woman had appealed to him since her death until the moment he laid eyes on me. How he wanted to get to know me better, much better, and possibly one day marry me. I was blown away. We had come so far in the span of one afternoon.
I reciprocated by telling him all about my childhood dreams, which had become a repetitive part of my adulthood dreams as well. How I basically remained manless due to the fact that most men immediately turned me off. They weren’t romantic enough and simply could not begin to comprehend my physical and mental needs. How I felt a closeness to him already as well, and how I thought he was my real knight in shining armor, my destiny.
Then, I told him how much I wanted to make love to him right then and there. How I wanted to finish the feelings, how I wanted to feel him inside me, how I wanted our bodies to fuse together, and how I wanted for us to give each other orgasm on top of orgasm.
Deon took his hand and brushed his thumb gently over my cheekbone and across my lips. He rubbed it over my eyebrows and then from the bridge of my nose back down to my lips. I exhaled again! At that very moment, I became positively aware he was the one.
We were both on our knees, facing each other, when I removed his hand from my lips and pressed my fingertips lightly upon his own. I took his hand, brought it back toward my mouth, and began to suck his fingers one at a time.
We gazed into each other’s eyes, the only light in the cabin emerging from the roaring fire. I unbuttoned the flannel shirt I had on and removed it altogether, letting it fall down around my succulent ass.
My hardened nipples looked like black pearls. He took one of my breasts into his hand, pulling it up to meet his descending mouth. He sucked on my breast like it contained his life sustenance. It brought me immense pleasure.
I pushed him backward so that he was lying flat on his back. Then I straddled him and started to remove his clothing with my teeth. I broke off all the buttons on his shirt and made him sit up just long enough for me to get it off. I unbuckled his pants and then unzipped them with my teeth and got them off. I pulled his underwear all the way off with my teeth and on my way back up from his ankles, where they even
tually landed, I took his dick in my mouth and tickled my palette with its sweetness.
Sucking dick is the one thing I’ve always enjoyed, and I sucked Deon’s for a very long time, licking all around the shaft of it with my tongue, taking his ball sack in my mouth and suckling on it gently. I love the way a man shudders when I suck on his balls. I enjoyed feasting on his dick, and when he came in my mouth, it was like hitting the lottery to me, because we both came. What a reward!
The fire was still going strong when I sat on his face and let him taste my honeydew. Just like I imagined, he was remarkably talented with his tongue. Nothing is more satisfying than having a man eat your pussy who makes no bones about enjoying it. When a man does it just to please you, it’s not as arousing, but when he does it to please you both, it’s such a turn-on. I came over and over again, orgasm on top of orgasm.
Once he had been well nourished, I moved down to his dick, letting my pussy juice and cum smear along his chest as I inched my way toward his hips. I felt the head of his dick bouncing up toward my pussy like it knew it was coming and wanted to break out the welcome wagon. I sat all the way down on his dick, pausing for a moment so I could get used to the head of it all the way near my stomach.
Then I rode his dick like a champion, and he brought his hips up to meet my every thrust. His dog had been sitting quietly in the same corner the entire time, but started whimpering when our moans began to grow in volume. The fire was roaring, and I was still a bit feverish, so the sweat of my body covered him as it trickled down my breasts and my spine. We were like two wild animals in heat.
We could hear the animals out in the woods making noises like they knew we were mating. I took hold of both his hands, and we clasped them together so I could ride him harder. I collapsed on his chest as we both came again, holding his hands back over his head, and started tongue-kissing him for the first time. We had saved the best for last.
The intensity of our kiss was electrifying, mixed with the taste of each other’s body juices on our tongues. We bonded in a way we both knew was forever. We made love the rest of the night. Deon carried me to the bed and did it to me in every position we could manage without putting too much pressure on my ankle.
The next morning he filled up the old-fashioned bathtub and put it in the center of the cabin by the fire. He had replenished it with fresh wood. We both sat in the tub, washed each other, and made love—orgasm on top of orgasm.
He drove me back to my cabin, which I almost forgot even existed, in his Jeep. We spent the next two days there, both of us putting our businesses in the big city on hold. We fell in love in such a short span of time and wasted no time with fears and hesitations.
The very next weekend we took the plunge and got married. We had the local justice of the peace marry us in front of a select few of our friends on the riverbank. Deon and I were both barefoot. He looked debonair in black slacks and a white cotton shirt hanging loosely instead of being tucked in. I wore a white cotton dress with a wreath around my head made out of vines and red roses. Even Zeus, who is now my dog too, had a great time.
We had the reception at our larger cabin, the one that used to be just mine. We decided to keep both of them and go back and forth on our weekend excursions. I’m pregnant with our first child, and Deon seems like he has more morning sickness than I do.