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The Huntress Hunted

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Abby

I stand at end of pier 48, a gentle breeze fluttering my earring against my neck. The water looks black at this late hour, and is kissing the piles like one would kiss the cheek of baby. I breathe in the salt in the air; I let it fill my lungs and cleanse my conscious. I stand here still, my eyes closed, just relishing the feeling of cum finding its way to my thigh from my velvet hole. Its sweet smelling, that deliciously sweet aroma that comes only from the hot juice of a woman and the anxiously spilled seed of a man being blended together. It’s like adding honey to tea.

I am a hunter of men.

Some would label me a slut, a whore, a cock hound; use any colloquialism that comforts you. They are all correct. I love getting fucked, and by men that know how.

I get off from allowing the object of my desire to think he’s stalking ME. Let him feel victorious, I don’t care. When he’s fucking the shit out of me doggie, grabbing my hips and spanking my ass, it is I that am the victor. I have dictated the behavior to be just as I desired. However tonight, as I admire the moon sprinkling the bay with her beams, I wonder. I wonder if the man who filled my tight holes this night had bested me. And I didn’t even know it!

I was walking through the Barnes and Noble this evening; around 7pm. Appearing nonchalant I quickly took in the lay of the land. Not one man of any interest. I walked into the café to order myself a Chai latte, and leaned backwards somewhat to catch a view of a man tapping away on his laptop. I was semi-obvious; I wanted him to look up. I am sure my pupils grew instantly large when he glanced my way. What an amazing face I saw looking up at me! This was not a face all women would find sexy, but it was sexy to me. And of course, that is what counts, is it not?

We made eye contact. He smiled and went back to his computer screen. Honestly I was a bit put off by this. I was dressed in a black skirt and ivory colored halter top that showed off my large tits and curvy hips. His gaze didn’t linger, or show interest. I’m not a skinny thing, but my proportions have generally been most pleasing to my conquests. I froze the image of his face in my minds eye.

He had casually cut brown hair and a neatly trimmed goatee, a look I favor tremendously. He was wearing great specs, lenses cut in a sort of rectangle shape, very chic. His eyes were brown, I wasn’t close enough to gage the exact color; I hoped they were closer to hazel. I put him in his early 40’s, and I saw no ring. Not that marital status has any bearing on whom I hunt. I don’t care one way or the other. His indifference to me was bothersome, and of course a challenge. I now had a conquest targeted.

I took my latte and had a seat 2 tables away from him. I sat facing him, hoping to catch his attention in some way. How to be coy? I focused in on his belongings to see if there was conversation hiding there. He was wearing a classy Movado watch and had a copy of Stephen King’s The Eye of the Dragon. There was my opening.

“You know,” I said wistfully and gesturing to the book, “that is my favorite King story. I’ve never seen anyone reading it.”

He looked up and smiled again. He had slightly imperfect teeth but a wide grin and so very sexy lips. Kissable lips. I awaited his reply. Would I like his voice? Was he witty and smart? So many hurdles to clear before I would really start thinking about his cock and what he might be able to do with it. Of course looking back now, the King book on the table so visibly placed was HIS bait. I took it like a largemouth bass molests a nightcrawler. He had only to set the hook.

“It’s the best he’s done I think” he said, “I’ve read it many times. A classic tale of good and evil told with such simple elegance. The man’s a rare talent.”

Ok I thought, that was an intelligent response. We bantered for some time about books and moved on to music. He asked me to join him so we didn’t have to talk across tables. I did so most greedily. He was definitely showing interest; perhaps he was just the shy type that doesn’t get into the prolonged eye contact to convey attraction. I was hoping he was decadent in bed. I was sure I would find out, and in the very near future. I looked at my watch, it was 8:30.

“Gosh I’m hungry” I said casually. “Haven’t eaten since lunch. Would you like to grab a bite with me?”

He sighed. “I would, but I have a presentation in the morning. My chat with you has put me a bit behind on my PowerPoint slides.” I was about to apologize for being a distraction when he added, “Though I’m happy you took me away for a bit, I’ve enjoyed talking with you.”

I couldn’t believe this is how it was going to end. There had been a fair amount of flirting; we were checking each other out subtly the entire time we had been chatting.

“How bout this” he asked. “Give me your cell number; I should be done in an hour or so. Maybe we could meet for a cup of coffee and dessert somewhere. I’ll call bahis firmaları when I’m done if that interests you.”

Me waiting?? I think not. The huntress doesn’t sit and wait for her prey to decide it will cross the street. She goes boldly into the woods with crossbow in hand. In a surreal turn of events I found myself saying that sounded great, and I looked forward to seeing him again. I think at that point I really still thought I was in control. That he was my conquest because he was “finding” a way to meet up at a later time. However, he was really leaving the loose end. Maybe he would call; maybe he would be done with his work, maybe, maybe, maybe. So off to dinner I went, waiting for my prey to call.

I went to my favorite sushi bar and ordered up some sashimi and Sake. The minutes ticked by as I wondered about him. I stayed until 10, milking my meal and drinks till the place was closing down. Fuck him, I figured. I stumbled a little on my way out; the Sake was doing its work on my equilibrium. I was pulling the car keys from my purse when my phone rang. The huntress would have just let it ring. It was too late. But I answered. He knew I would.

“Hi there you”, I said casually. “All ready for your presentation?”

“I am” he said cheerfully, “Sorry it took so long, I understand if it’s too late.”

I assured him it wasn’t, now focused in on the memory of his savory lips, dying to know what they tasted like. I got desperate, a little reckless. Though he certainly seemed no axe murderer, I found myself telling him that it was such a lovely night, would he like to come to my place and share some wine on my veranda? I lived about 10 minutes from the bookstore; it wouldn’t be out of his way. He agreed and met me in front of my building.

I parked on the street and saw him waiting in his car. He drove a newer model BMW, so I assumed he was making ends meet as far as his career went. Question was, could he make me cum by tonguing my clit?

He saw me and exited his car. We greeted each other with smiles and hellos; I hooked my arm in his and led him up the walk to my place. I dropped my key on purpose, and slowly bent over to pick it up. My curvaceous ass “accidentally” brushed his zipper as I grabbed the key. I thought I heard him giggle, but when I stood up and looked at him he was wearing a look of indifference, as if he hadn’t noticed. What a snake!

Once inside he kicked off his shoes. Was he respectful or making himself too comfortable? I still found myself on the offensive, feeling as though he was, as the famous book says, “just not that into me”. My mind was racing for ways to seduce him. I kicked off my shoes as well, and asked him if he preferred red or white wine.

“I’d love a cabernet if you have it” he said.

“I do” I replied. He wandered around my living room looking at pictures and trophies and other personal items on display as I opened the bottle and poured. I walked to him and handed him a glass.

“To new friends” I toasted. I made sure I looked at him longer than I needed to.

His eyes were indeed Hazel. Little flecks of green were embedded in the chocolate brown, and I found myself mesmerized. He didn’t look away when he raised his glass and repeated my toast. He didn’t look away when he took his first sip. Was I finally breaking through?

I was hoping he would bend to kiss me after that first taste of wine, but he simply smiled and walked to the fireplace where I had several golf trophies displayed. He was tall; I’d say at least 6’4″. I’m 5’7″ so it was a nice difference. I like to tilt my head upwards to kiss my men.

“You’re an accomplished player” he said casually, looking at the crystal trophies on my mantel.

“One of the few things I’m pretty good at” I bragged, and giggled girlishly. “Do you play?”

“Yes” he said smiling. “I don’t have any trophies though. I’m guessing you’d be giving me strokes if we played against one another”.

Oh, I thought, if ever there was an opening this was it. I walked over to him and took a lingering drink from my glass. “I’d be happy to give you strokes even when were not playing golf.”

It was a corny and predictable golf joke, but it would give me an indication of his playfulness. He still seemed coy to me, and I just couldn’t tell if it was an act. He was driving me nuts. I was most definitely in hot pursuit, and in new territory. It was kind of annoying. Usually by the time a man was in my home, he was hot to trot and all over me.

He took the glass of wine from my hand and placed it on the mantel. “If that’s the case” he answered, “then I’ll take the strokes right now.”

He set his glass down next to mine, and much to my amazement he planted the most sumptuous kiss on my wine tinted lips. He did it skillfully and softly, playfully moving his tongue in and out of my mouth. He quit the kiss first, and slid his hand around the back of my neck. He slowly grabbed a handful of hair and tilted my head kaçak iddaa back, forcing me to look up at him.

“On your knees” he said.

I smiled, mostly out of surprise. He did not smile back. He was quite serious.

He began to pull my hair, and it hurt. He put a hand to my shoulder and pushed me to the floor. My mind was in turmoil. This man was now pursuing me, which is what I wanted, but on his terms. This was not my style, though I found myself enjoying it. A lot. At least after all he was attracted to me. I hadn’t been wrong about that.

I got to my knees and came face to face with his zipper. There was no belt and so I just began unbuttoning his button flys … another huge turn on. I love the way a bulge looks in button fly jeans. He never let go of my hair. Even as he was stepping out of his jeans and I was taking him from his grey boxer briefs, he held my hair tight.

His cock was no disappointment. Normally I am the one pushing a head into my crotch, telling my conquest to lick my pussy. But here I was, being commanded to suck cock. It was as if I was his puppet. I had no will of my own. I looked up into those Hazel eyes of his and saw a wicked smile emerge. I looked back down and studied his member. He was not yet fully erect, but I could tell he would be long, and quite thick.

“Suck me” he said, “I want to get hard in your mouth”.

I did as told and slid my rosy lips over his cock. I went to work and it wasn’t long before my mouth was uncomfortably full. He began to thrust his hips slowly, gently fucking my mouth. I could tell he was skilled as he let the tip of his cock just touch the back of my throat. He never pushed further in an effort to gag me.

As I gave him my best blow job he removed his shirt and stepped away from his crumpled jeans. I slid his boxers down and he stepped out of those as well. Again I glanced up. Attached to that fabulous face was a nice body. Hard, but not ripped. He had large biceps and a nice chest with dark curly hair covering most of it. I loved the sexy trail of hair that led right to where my face was. His pubic hair smelled like fresh laundry. I was in heaven.

With a jerk of my hair upwards he told me he’d had enough cocksucking. I got to my feet and was met by a tumultuous kiss, deep and hard and full of tongue. He untied my halter top and reached behind to unzip my skirt. I moved to speak, but he covered my lips with his index finger to indicate silence. I obliged.

He tugged my skirt down and it fell in a wrinkled heap at my feet. He pulled my halter over my head which left my hair mussed. I had on no bra; my top had one built in. I stood there in front of him, bare breasted with only my thong undies to cover my totally shaven pussy. For the first time I could remember I felt vulnerable and out of control. I wanted to run like a frightened animal, but instead stood there like a deer in headlights.

He stepped back and stared at me. His eyes settled on my tits, looking back and forth from tit to tit, and I could feel my nipples getting hard from his gaze.

“Take off your panties” he said, in a tone no higher than a whisper. I never took off my lingerie, that was for my men to do. I loved the feeling of a man sliding my panties off with his teeth. He sensed my hesitation and he spoke again.

“Don’t make me tell you twice.”

His face never changed expression and I wasn’t sure how to take him. Was he trying to be menacing? I decided not to test him, and besides, I was secretly enjoying being told what to do for once.

I slipped my thumbs in the strings of my thong and slid the garment down to floor. He continued to stare. It was the oddest thing. We just stood there, three feet from each other. We didn’t speak; we just looked each other over, like one would look over a steak at the meat counter in the grocery store. At least that’s how he had me feeling. Like a piece of meat. He finally broke the silence.

“Turn around and bend over for me” he said.

I did as he asked, putting my hands to the floor so he could get a look at my ass and pussy. I was fully waxed and smooth as a baby’s bottom. I felt the touch of his hand on my ass cheek. He caressed my right cheek, then came a resounding SMACK. I screeched and stood up. He had hit me hard. With deftness I had not anticipated he threw his left hand around my waist and his right hand grabbed my shoulder. Once again I was bent over and I felt another stinging blow to my ass.

I felt him lean over and lay his chest on my back. Pulling my hair to the side, he blew in my ear and said “You’re in unfamiliar territory, no? It is I who will use you tonight my dear.”

With that said, he slid a finger into my surprisingly wet pussy. Once his finger was wet with my juice he slid it into my ass. I moaned with pleasure. He kept a hand on my back to keep me bent over, and then slid his large cock into my fuck hole. He stroked slowly and deeply, and never let that finger leave my asshole. kaçak bahis He was breathing deeply, and making a sexy grunting sound that drove me wild. I loved getting fucked like this. It was all for him. At that point I felt that if I never came it would be ok. I could live happily being this mans fuck whore forever.

I had been bent over for at least 15 minutes when he suddenly pulled out, pulled me up by my hair and spun me around. He held on to me tight as I began to lose my balance from the light headedness that ensued after having my head down for so long. With one motion he picked me up and carried me towards the stairs.

“Which way to your bed?” he asked.

“Right at the top of the stairs” I answered. I moved to kiss him but he pulled back. Apparently he was calling all the shots.

With the bed in sight he bent down and kissed me. His lips never left mine, not even while he laid me down gently on the bedspread. He simply straddled me while we kissed, and I felt his knees pushing at my inner thighs. I was all too happy to spread my legs for him.

He found my wet entrance with the head of his rod and pushed his way in. Still kissing, he groaned and took in a deep breath. I wrapped my legs around his back, pulling him into me. He fucked me well with those long, smooth strokes he had shown me in the living room.

Next he grabbed my wrists, one in each hand, and moved my arms so they were over my head. He held me there while he slowly increased his fuck pace. He bent his head to my nipples, his tongue flicking and sucking each rosy bud. I arched my back and moved my hips just so, and his cock began to hit my G-spot. I was in for an amazing orgasm.

I’m sure he could tell I was close. I was breathing fast, and my hips were moving into him now at a fever pitch. “You may come now” he said.

Well did I ever. The wave hit hard and fast, and I actually cried out. He never stopped fucking me, just rode me hard as I basked in the surge of my huge cum. His cock head just kept pounding my inner flesh as he skillfully got every bit of mileage out of my orgasm he could. I could feel sweat running down my neck, and I could feel it dripping from his face on to mine. It was salty sweet and so very male. I loved it.

Again he kissed me deeply, and then pulled out. He was rock hard, so I knew he had not yet been satisfied. He flipped me over.

“Get on all fours, I want to cum in your ass” he said, slightly out of breath.

Now I’m no stranger to ass fucking, but he was big. I was a bit worried about the stretch factor.

I did as he requested, and once again felt a finger filling my tight, tiny hole. He played for a short while, and then added a 2nd finger. I was feeling so full, I was sure I couldn’t take a 3rd, but he managed it. After only a minute of 3 fingers filling my asshole, he pulled them out and let the head of his sweet cock rest against the stretched opening. I felt a hand move in and over my pussy, then felt him spreading the sex juice over my anus. He began to push into me.

He slid slowly, groaning all the way in. He placed his hands on my hips and held me steady, never stopping his forward motion. Once he had made it as far as he could go, he quickened his strokes. He fucked my ass hard and fast, and I loved the feeling of his balls slapping up against my pussy. Every so often they would touch my clit and I started to think that maybe I would cum again while he fucked me this way.

Indeed his balls kept attacking my wet, swollen clit, and I was on the verge of orgasm once again. I turned to look at him, and told him his hot fucking balls were going to make me gush again. He must have liked that idea as he began to pound my ass like he had pounded my pussy. He didn’t care how deep he went.

His balls hit my clit one last time in the most perfect way, and I began to cum hard. I told him I was cuming, and I guess that was all he needed to hear. He gave one last amazing thrust and groaned. I could actually feel his cock pulsing in my ass, and knew when he pulled out I would feel the warm flow of his cock candy drip down onto my ass crack and pussy.

He pulled out when he was ready and laid next to me on my bed. I had enjoyed this fuck thoroughly.

He sat up and leaned over me. “You are a great fuck sweetie” he told me. “Don’t get up, I’ll let myself out.”

I was sleepy so I stayed on the bed and let him go. We said nothing more, no names, no numbers, no promise of any future contact. It was then I began to think. And wonder.

I couldn’t sleep after all, so here I stand on the Pier trying to sort it all out. I can only conclude that I was the hunted this evening. I did as told, I pleased first. He used me as he saw fit.

I frequent that bookstore often; I’m guessing he’s seen me there. I think this man is my counterpart, a hunter of women. I should be a bit put off my by naiveté. But the fact is, I enjoyed it. Perhaps every so often the huntress benefits by feeling the rush of adrenaline her prey feels. Once she’s been hunted she’s seen the game from both sides.

Have I honed my skills this evening? Have I learned another nuance of the hunt? Only time will tell.

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