The Field
Just a short vignette, just wanted to write something and put it up for the sake of doing it. It's a little... out there, I guess. Sexual acts are a bit on the short side, bizarreness is probably a bit high. Trying something new! That said, I hope you enjoy, and thank you for taking the time to read it.
The dirt road was dusty and dry in the autumn heat. Fields were to his left, and the long browning grass swayed in the breeze as leaves danced past him and towards the rise. Colour danced in the field, asters and daisies and cornflowers, and he could smell the last of the summer about him.
He could not look right. Would not? Was it a dream?
His hand reached out to touch the grass as it went to seed, fluffy tops caressing the hand that he could not see, the sensation of touch separated from sight, feelings dissociated from action. Bees droned, attending the flowers. He could touch them, gently, gently. If it was sunny, they would not sting you, they only wanted to be about their business, his father had said. Odd, fuzzy, but not. They droned off about, unheeding. Where would they go?
He walked into the field. He felt the grass as it pressed against his jeans, and threatened to trip him as he went slowly to the hill, his legs aching as he climbed to the top. How far had he climbed? The fields stretched out before him as the sun began to touch their edge, setting the sky afire. Clouds burned, and shadows cooled. He sat, watching the sun set.
What are you? asked the wolf behind him. He was sure it was a wolf, but he could not turn to look. He felt the shiver in his spine, and the hot breath against his neck. The teeth would not be far behind.
What are you? asked the wolf again. Answer me honestly, if you are honest.
He looked at his arm and saw fur, grey with brown. It looked soft. The wolf laughed.
Ah! You must be honest. No one would be a rabbit, with a wolf sitting behind them.
It was true! How could he not have seen? He was running now, through the grass, through the darkness. He could only see when he stood on the tips of his long toes, his eyes barely reaching above the tufts of grass. But his ears! The wolf could see them! He caught just a glimpse of the behemoth as it ran towards him. Or was it the hill?
He bolted. The road was hard and dry, and empty, and he covered his nakedness with his hands as he looked.
Beyond the fence were the woods, dark and foreboding, but safe.
His spine shivered, and his back arched as he felt the wolf's breath upon him, his great muzzle pushing him to the ground. He rolled to see the enormous maw bearing down on him. Tonight I eat rabbit...
Paralysed with fear, he lay there as the wolf began to manoeuvre towards his penis, his hot breath stirring it into arousal, the tip of his tongue tasting it, then licking slowly up and down it's length as it hardened, his foreskin revealing the wolf's prize. Saliva dripped across teeth as big as daggers and onto his belly, and the wolf huffed as he enclosed his member within a toothsome prison, licking, licking.
He writhed on the ground, unseen by the wolf, but held completely by his maleness. With a moan, he released, but the wolf kept hold of him, drinking him in as warm saliva coated his belly, dripping, pooling beside him. The wolf smiled and released. He could smell his seed on his breath, see his seed drip from his muzzle, as the wolf's head was backlit by moonlight.
A cold breeze whipped up, stirring the grasses once moor, and he lay sated, his hand slick as he played with himself, the cold wetness as it dripped across his skin and down to the bedsheets FUCK--
Harry sat bolt upright in his room, his sticky hand now placed beside him in the darkness. Semen, cold now, dripped into his crotch and pubic hair. He spun and walked to the shower, turning on the lights and cursing as he went.
"Blue balls, Harry, blue balls..." It had been months since he had had a good fuck, but truth be told, it hadn't interested him as much as it used to. She hadn't.
"Why a wolf? Why a rabbit? I'm not a rabbit." And yet, as he stood in the shower, Harry couldn't help but think of the wolf, its huge teeth bearing down on his helpless body. His teeth, Harry corrected himself. He was playing with himself again as he imagined it, but did not bring himself to release.
Moonlight poured through the room as Harry balled up and tossed his soiled sheets onto the floor and brought out another set. "Do I want to be prey? Do I want to be chased?" The idea appealed to him, somehow, and he imagined again being set upon by the wolf. He sighed, eyes closed, standing in the darkness, and for just a moment, he could smell the wildness, feel the heat, smell the breath. Feel the fur against him.
Harry jumped back with a gasp, and the wolf laughed.