Hike #1
Didn't expect to meet somebody all the way out here....
You could lose a day in the hills, the moments of peacefulness that overwhelmed you, the sun rise on your eager form to light the trail and set on a makeshift tent for an unexpected evening with the stars and emergency flares. You had to be well-equipped to either focus your mind through the curving, narrow trails between sylvan pines crowding you like a sidewalk corner, branches clawing at your eyes before opening for exclusive gnarled curves into breathtaking outlooks, vistas of overbearing serenity and quiet that sucked the restlessness from your soul. The rolling horizons of verdant landscape leveled off at the tops by a fog that charmed the image with a supernatural mystique. When the deer escaped his apprenticeship to enjoy the trails he would return with scuffs on his cheeks and the feeling that nothing on this beautiful planet couldn't be conquered, wouldn't unveil its secrets if you proved worthy to it.
The climax of the trail was about a mile back, but here was where the deer usually found the end of his trek. The cabin had obviously been abandoned generations ago, its purpose out here in the wild indecipherable in the bare, moss-covered walls. The decrepit log box overlooked a modest waterfall, a gush of water that leapt from seemingly nowhere. One's eyes had to follow it to the ledge of a high rock face, the modest current making a bold leap before splashing into a cozy pond. A trail so well worn you could still see it connected the auspicious mouth of the mossy cabin and decaying brick steps that longed to collapse under somebody's weight.
Whatever their personal summits, all hikers indulge in their particular ritual. Some build a fire, make a pot of coffee and enjoy the view. Some paint, or get precariously out on a ledge, attempt to take a selfie and fall to their death. This deer had a ritual all his own. As he set his backpack down he dropped as well his cargo pants and sensible white briefs. Throwing off his shirt, he walked into the clearing before the decayed box and transported himself in time- to when he was the owner of this humble cabin, he didn't need nor want to take more than the lush bounty around him provided, and each morning he would step naked as the day he was born into the morning light and bathe in his own little puddle of the impossibly vast planet.
And when his fur had totally dried in the beating noon sun he would put his sensible white briefs into his backpack, put on his insensible lavender silk underwear fringed in a delicate floral motif lace, and begin his walk back with a blush on his cheeks no one but the birds would ever be privileged to witness.
Of all his hiking gear, the panties hadn't been the most expensive- but the most important by far. The pouch let out in the front to accommodate his package, and though the fabric clung snug under his white tail the seams followed the curve of his bountiful cheeks as if guided by artists and architects. On the hike up it might be too much for even the specialty pair, but the way back down the deer could usually count on a less grueling pace. The indulgence of silk squeezing his hips as he enjoyed the splendor of the environment and reminisced on his retreat always caused his mind to flood with the ultimate pleasure of returning to civilization, and why he could never be a hermit attuned to nature yet so distant from the nearest 24-hour gym.
The informational board marking the end of the marked trail appeared up ahead, and as the deer passed it the vivid flash of orange like a sudden silent explosion flooded his peripheral, and as he suddenly realized he was not alone his instinct betrayed him. The slight startle avalanched clumsily into an awkward step, a tumble over a rotting log and a fall into the moss and wet leaves of the forest floor.
"Shit!!" The towering figure spit as it rushed to the deer, both apologizing over each other as the broad paws cradled under the deer's arms and lifted him up, pulling the slight man to his feet with startling ease. With more than a moment's glance the tiger was a more friendly figure, if not still a little intimidating. The deer recognized the logo for the university on the gym shorts he'd chosen to hike in, a smaller organization that likely wasn't selling a lot of merchandise to enthusiasts.
"I was just reading the facts about the Schuykill Watershed. I figured they put it at the end, it must be important... I mean I guess I expected a credits roll? I don't- Look, I really didn't mean to startle you. I heard you coming but just thought you... knew I was here. Look it's my bad. Really. I'm sorry dude. Are you okay?"
The tiger brushed his paw over the deer's body, having to kneel just a bit to do so and feeling all the more awkward for the fact that he dwarfed the slender fellow he'd managed to startle. As the deer steadied himself and began pulling his clothes, his panties having wedged between his cheeks, he realized the waistline of his paperbag-brown cargo pants had dropped and the floral trim of his lavender panties were as clear as day. On this rare occasion one lucky witness finally saw the rosy flush of hot blood under the cream of in the deer's cheek.
The deer pointed his chin to the sky, nearly getting lost in the blaze of the low sun as he searched for any excuse for what his new acquaintance had just seen. "Those- are..."
"Really sexy," the tiger cut him off as he stepped forward to deftly unbotton the top button of the lithe fellow's cargo pants and let the drab material drop to reveal the deer's package in its frilly glory. Not wanting his newfound partner to feel overly exposed in the beating sun, the broad-shouldered man dropped his basketball shorts and revealed his own personal gift. That gift slapped back and forth between the tiger's thighs as he- bounding down the slope of the hill wearing nothing but his hiking boots- was followed by the deer following in nothing but the underwear on his hips.
The deer didn't necessarily agree with his new friend's selection when he finally caught up with the tiger, sitting on a wide flat rock abutting a creek burbling a perfect sleep machine burble. The big cat sat with one leg crossed and the other straight out, his hefty orbs weighing on the rock so heavily they look like they'd crack it. The deer was sure he could find a grassier clearing somewhere nearby but it wasn't much in him to interrupt the image developing right here at this moment. The swelling cock before him had barely begun to lift its own weight, and getting on his knees the slender cervine guided the leaking head onto his tongue and into the back of his throat. The throbbing cock still soft in his slender maw, the deer let his tongue wag and roll along the underside of the broad, stiffening shaft until the apple head cut off his airway.
"For fuck's sake," the tiger huffed as he let a deep breath empty his lungs, his brow furrowed in concentration like in the end there'd be a scoreboard to check. He stiffened his back and let the slight deer press his nose into the soft white fuzz below his belly button, a low rumble of a growl escaping his chest as his heart pounded harder. "I just know I'll be cutting firewood by the end of this."
By the time the tiger's trunklike cock had fully petrified the deer couldn't keep his nose in the tiger's fur for more than a moment or two before having to withdraw the head of the tool to his lips, forcing greedy breaths through his nostrils as he wiped his chin and let his svelte chest heave. The tiger was a task to please, but all the more the man deserved the worship, the deer thought. He had just stretched his throat around the tiger's cock when they heard the voice.
"Park ranger!" it yelled, and after a perfunctory silence:"Is anybody there?"
The tiger scooped the deer in his muscular shoulders as he backed up against an embankment, dirt falling on his shoulders as the deer pressed himself against the broad chest, feeling the athlete's pulse race with the adrenaline of the moment. Even through the steel-firm layers of muscle the deer could hear feel the fevered beating of the predator heart.
"Hello? Park Ranger! Anybody in need of assistance?"
The deer's life flashed before his eyes, every decision he'd made and every consequence he'd lived up to then. He thought of the reactions of everybody at the office, if they'd notice him missing at all. He'd labored in anonymity for months now and the realization that the scandal of this would be the first anybody in the company would actually heard of him made him never want to go back at all.
They waited there together for the voice to come again, the tiger's rock hard cock pulsing against the deer's lithe torso. As they waited, the deer's gentle hands cradled the mammoth balls, letting them spill out over his fingers as he bobbled them in their fuzzy sack. The tiger huffed, biting his lip as he cradled the smaller frame, his burly paw slipping beneath the elastic of the silk panties to test the density of the perfectly round cheeks they contained. A broad digit slipped between the mottled sand and cream cheeks to tease the deer's hole, the tiger burrowing his nose in the deer's shoulders to huff his scent.
They expected for a long time for the voice to come again, for a sudden body to suddenly jump down from the embankment above, brandishing a billy club and flanked by photographers from each of the town's newspapers.
Not that is stopped the deer from returning himself to his duties, slipping down between the tiger's knees to lap his tongue against the oranges resting there. It was only shortly after the tiger's dick began to drip clear, syrupy strands of sap from the head of his dick that the bigger man seemed to regain his confidence that they were in the clear. He lurched forward, wrapping his paws around the payload and flipping him over onto his back.
Tossed him like a flapjack, really, the urgency to simply put his knees at either side of the deer's head and fuck his throat. The fat pink cock plunged the deer's lips, the such-worshipped balls smacking the deer between the eyes and against the bridge of his muzzle with every thrust. The deer let his throat be fucked, and though he was far from exhausted by this point in his hike the fatigue had begun to set in. Letting himself melt between the tiger's paws, the deer couldn't do much more than turn his ragged body over to the domineering jock.
The big cat's pawpads traversed the deer's body, the wriggling digits scurrying along every crease and curve they could find, squeezing where they could get a pawful and caressing all the rest. The lavender panties strained under the pressure of a dick struggling to escape, a wet splotch forming in the tented pouch. The tiger released the bulging package, admiring it for only a moment before leaning over and wrapping his lips around the fat black head. The cat deserved credit for not simply shoving the whole thing into the back of his throat- without losing stride of his hips thrusting his dick down the deer's throat he deftly lolled the tip of his tongue over the leaking slit.
Having tasted the deer he began teasing the deer, letting the pillar-stiff rod stabilize on the very tip of his lips while he fucked the deer's mouth. Only his hot breath huffing over the deer's cock and the occasional lap of his rough tongue to send the deer into peals of cries coordinated to the most ineffectual squirms beneath the tiger's mass. As the tiger thrust and smacked his heavy balls against the bridge of the deer's muzzle it became apparent that even a little teasing was too much. The deer bucked his hips as his cock erupted, the tiger sucking down the seed with a greedy, victorious grin on his face. And he didn't let it interrupt the rhythm of his hips.
The day had long since begun to fade, an early end here in the rolling hills as the sun ducked behind the jarring curvature of the landscape. All around the sound of birds chirruping and tweeting and singing their disparate songs interrupted the pair as the deer continued at his work. Every piece together seemed too perfect, too choreographed, like the reverse of a prank laid by scheming coworkers. Had somebody discovered his routine? Did he forget to clear his browser history one weekend? How could anybody have known? How could anybody have guessed? How could anybody have done it? Put him right there with the rustle of leaves under his knees, attached at the lips to the dick of a man that could have stepped right out of his dreams. All while his dick strained to break free from the silk confines of his favorite lingerie. There may as well have been cameras. It may as well have been court record. Every lap and flick of the deer's tongue bore the importance and professionalism of a championship performance, every badly stifled moan from the tiger's throat was a story he'd pass down for generations. His skin tingled with the bald realization of it all, like every hair on his body was falling to meet the dead leaves and he was left naked and quaking in cold as he refused to let the tiger's perfect dick dry.
The tiger broke the deer's daydreaming with a thrust to the back of his throat that might have broken the prone fellow's nose. The deer on his knees, his leaking cock half hard between his legs begging for the attention of a second squeeze. Looking over his shoulder as he held the deer by the base of his right antler, the tiger fucked the deer's pretty face, bringing the idyllic scene to a fitting crescendo as he began to moan.
"Huuhhhnn--" the big cat smacked his balls against the lithe chin as his rod pulsed, thick precum oozing down the back of the deer's throat where he couldn't taste it. The lithe man pushed back, gaining an inch or two before having his nose mashed again against the tiger's abs. The first gush pressed into the back of his throat as he shoved again, pulling the gushing prick from his lips, a wad of cum spraying up his nose before another jet strafed his cheek. A string of expletives filled the air as the deer stroked the gusher, his voice seeming to have climbed an octave as the girthy brush painted him. Gobs covered his eyes and blinded him, but he stroked the tiger all the same, mouth open and tongue out, until a paw brusquely pushed him away.
Then he simply collapsed onto his back, wondering if the bulky frame would fall and crush him too but unable to open his eyes for the mess made of his face. As the euphoria of the moment passed his senses took stock of just how much damage had been done- the heady scent of the tiger's seed flooding his lungs, the deer wiped clear his eyes with the back of his hands, his wrists and his forearms before he could open them again to let in the light.
"What the- what the fuck am I going to do?" the deer said as he sat up. The tiger's spunk dripped from his cheeks. It matted into the fur of every square inch above the deer's shoulders. An adventurous streak strung along the cervine's slender stomach. The more the deer tried to clean himself the messier he looked.
"Dude... I'm sorry..." the tiger couldn't help offer as he surveyed the sight. As if he had given the deer anything other than exactly what the man's dreams entailed. All the same, the two of them naked save for one pair of panties between them, in the middle of the woods- the deer painted in cum was only the cherry on top of the picture.
A smile spread across the deer's lips. "I know exactly where we can go to clean up."