to the sound of an owl hooting, the howl of a coyote not far
away. Shunning the chill of the early fall, he slipped into
his trousers, a rough woolen shirt and boots of soft leather.
Quietly, he exited the tent that was his home away from home.
He stretched, pushing the stiffness and mental numbness away
as his eyes turned to the west.
was clear. No clouds held the warmth to the earth. The moon,
nearing full, was low on the horizon. The stars shone brightly.
He scanned the skies for old friends. There was Mars, the
red planet... his protector. And mighty Jupiter, stalwart
of the heavens.
through the woods toward the babbling of a stream. Only the
sentries were awake at this hour, sharing the dark with the
woodland's creatures of the night. He sat on the ground, leaning
back against a large oak. Could he had seen the leaves, he
would have found a bouquet of brilliant reds, yellows and
browns welcoming the fall. The moon shed a ribbon across the
quiet pond in front of him. Water finding it's way over the
log jam that created the pond sent back a comforting serenade.
Each morning, as the others slept, he came here. Here he found
his time of day. He came here each morning to relieve the
stresses, to collect his thoughts... and to think of her.
been well over a year now since they had shared one another...
since he had reveled in her gift to him. Her gift was his
most cherished possession, what brought him the heights of
joy and reason for being. Her gift was the gift of herself.
As he sat, his eyes exploring the skies, he sought another
friend and his mind moved back to his time with her. His thoughts
went first to their talks, their plans for great things and
their sharing of deep feelings. They shared things together
that neither could ever share with any other.
encouraged and guided her to move into her position of responsibility
and influence. He was proud of all that she had done, of what
she was doing now. She was a woman succeeding in a man's world.
But now, it was these very responsibilities that kept them
up into the heavens, thankful for another friend he found
his eyes; his hands rubbing his forehead as his elbows rested
on his raised knees. His thoughts turned to their intimate
times together, to the private chambers that they shared.
As his mind drifted back, he could feel the warmth of her
body, the smoothness of her flesh, the curves of her hips.
His fingers twitched as, in his mind, they wound themselves
through her long, golden hair, stroking it, pulling it. His
fingers tried to dig into his forehead as they had into her
full breasts. He could feel her nipples hardening, pressing
into the palms of his hands. He could hear her soft moans,
feel her body responding to his caresses... he felt his own
stirrings as in his mind her hips rose, seeking his fingers
as they eagerly explored the essence of her gender. The musky
smells of the forest were pushed aside, replaced by the aromas
of her lust as his hands moved together, fingers interlocked.
He could feel her growing hot and wet as the flower of her
womanhood burst from its hiding place under his attentions.
his eyes at the sound of a branch snapping someplace nearby...
a deer perhaps, or a sentry relieving himself. As his eyes
again sought the constellation in the western sky, his thoughts
turned to the darker pleasures he found in her. In the privacy
of their chambers, she shed the attire and adornments of their
public lives. And with them she shed her drive to make things
happen, to direct her surroundings and those around her. As
she bared her body, she gave to him every thing that was her...
needing only to serve him... to be used by him in any way
of the branch had flooded his mind with other memories of
her... the sound of his hand as it landed on her alabaster
buttocks and thighs. He heard her yelp as the whip decorated
her with bright red stripes and welts. A slight breeze stirred
the leaves on the long, sturdy oak branch that stretched toward
the pond above his head and his mind was filled with the beauty
of her when she was bound and stretched toward the heavy beams
in the ceiling of their chambers. He closed his eyes and his
hands reached out to explore her as he had done so often...
caressing her cheek, lifting and digging his fingers into
her marvelous breasts. He extended the middle and index fingers
of his right hand as he had done so often as he plumbed the
hot, wet, eager secrets that lay hidden between her long and
well formed legs... secrets denied to all others.
to move, to adjust his position as his manhood swelled at
these thoughts of her. He felt the wonders of her as she sought
to please him... recalled as though she was here, kneeling
before him. He closed his eyes and emitted a low moan as he
felt her cupping the furred sac that swayed below his swollen
shaft... felt her tongue teasingly circle the head of his
shaft or draw along the thick vein that ran its length, bringing
was a million leagues and a million days from his responsibilities
here in the forest as he felt her take him deep into her mouth
or between her breasts... bringing him to the apex of sexual
pleasure. And he recalled the many ways that she became the
sheath to his blade... how she tightened to hold him inside
of her when two became one... merging their souls along with
changed as a large fish jumped from the water. The smooth
lines of the moon's reflection became jagged and blurred,
then slowly calmed again. At times, he took her gently, caressing
and holding her as they made love. More often, their coupling
was wild and rough... mixed with her shrieks and yelps as
his fingers dug deeply into her flesh or struck any part of
her body as they crashed together in their passion.
moved to the full moon as it crept closer to the horizon and
his thoughts to her, kneeling on the edge of their bed, legs
spread, her buttocks raised, breasts and shoulders pressed
into the sheets and blankets, arms stretched toward the far
side of the bed. He savored the look and feel of the arch
of her back when she presented herself to him in this way...
so open, totally available to him for his pleasure and use.
completely lose herself in her passion as he would take her
from behind, his hands striking her buttocks as he first pounded
into the silky, wet tunnel, then plunged into Sodom's Gate.
Her efforts would match his as they crashed together, his
hips against her buttocks, his hands pulling at her hips with
each thrust, the stones in his sac slapping at her inner thighs
and the flower of her sex.
the clank of a pan back in the camp. The cook was beginning
his preparations for the break of day. He had only a few more
moments he could call his own.
of their chambers, others catered to their every need... she
beside him receiving the loyalty and often the admiration
of others. But in their chambers, she served him. Often she
was adorned only in the jewelry that dangled from her ears,
her breasts and the flower that sprang from the lips of her
slit to honor him. She kept her mons cleanly shaven in the
manner of a common slave as a part of her gift to him, to
back against the tree, closed his eyes and recalled his last
moments with her before their parting. There had been few
words between them all night, their words had been exchanged
in the days prior. Her body had born the marks of his loving
of her, his enjoyment of her, his use of her in his dark way.
Her thighs, back and buttocks were streaked and welted from
where her has struck her. Her breasts were swollen, her nipples
sensitive to even a feather's touch from his attentions. The
soft folds between her legs were swollen and tender from heavy
use as well as her anticipation of more. Her legs were so
shaky, she was so exhausted, that she could no longer stand
on her own. Yet she had begged him for more of his use of
her through the long night.
finished by binding her wrists and ankles to the posts at
the four corners of their bed. Their coupling had been rough,
noisy. Both had screamed out their passion for one another
as he erupted deep inside of her. Her release, the last of
many that night, left her breathless, her breasts heaving
heavily with her panting. He had risen from atop her, pausing
only to cut one of the satin ropes that bound a wrist so she
could free herself later. His last vision of her had been
in the flickering light of the candles burning beside the
bed. It was burned into his memory like an uncontrolled fire.
had been tears on her cheeks... a mixture of the emotional
pain of his leaving and their dark physical pleasures. Her
breasts were heaving as she recovered, and the light showed
clearly the sheen on her inner thighs from the remnants of
their mating, their loving.
deeply... soon, before the winter's snows, she would join
him here. It had been so long since he had held her, felt
her breath, heard her voice... enjoyed the wonders of her
body. Soon... soon.
again as he lifted himself from the ground. The day would
quickly be upon him with all its demands. He did not need
to turn to know that the predawn light was creeping along
the eastern horizon behind him. The day was no longer his
Before returning to his tent and all that awaited him, he
looked once again into the western sky. Here, in the east,
the constellation of the Great Hunter was growing dim with
the coming dawn. In the mountains far to the west, the stars
still shone brightly.
knew that that she was safe... protected...