Upon Soaked Earth
Hello once again, your friendly neighbourhood Fae here with some more smutty goodness for you all. Born of a couple conversations and a rainstorm last night (as of this writing, at least), I felt the need to go on a writing binge and work on a couple different things, this little short amongst them
My first attempt at a proper first-person perspective actually, since I'm not counting Dreams, which was more an exersize in gender ambiguity. I'm rather surprised with how this came out, and am quite pleased. Hopefully you lot'll like it too. Read on, enjoy, and other stuff!
- a very rainsoaked Fae
Upon Soaked Earth
Rain has this effect on me that I just can't explain. I don't know how it does it, only that this little dragon can sit and just... watch it. Especially like now, the rains at the end of summer, the heat of the day washed away beneath the torrent of a heavy downpour. My eyes turn upwards to the sky as lay on my side, the dark clouds rolling overhead as they soak my scaled body to the bone. I'm panting, still... gods, how could I not be?
I lean my head back and there he is, right there beside me, behind me. Lupine, big and dark-furred... very, very male, as I know well. As he'd just shown me. As I can still feel, very directly. It's all a blur to me still... but even still, I can't help but remember it all, in exquisite detail. Sounds silly, but there it is.
We were sitting on the porch, I think... completely innocently, for once in a blue moon. Sitting back and snuggling together and watching the rain. We both love it, just to sit and watch it, and the company is really what makes it so enjoyable for the both of us. Lighting and thunder cracked and rumbled above us, and I know my wolf enjoys feeling me jump whenever a loud boom of thunder sounds.
I don't know why our back yard's grass had died over the summer. It was hotter than usual, yeah, and there were no trees to offer it shade, but I never expected there would be so much bare dirt there all summer. I know I looked down over the yard and the garden, feeling thankful that the plants were getting a good drink even as I watched the soil turning to mud.
I think that is when the idea struck me. I love water, I love rain... so it was obvious that I was going to get up and run out into it. Or at least, it was at the time, I suppose; it's usually only a matter of time for me. I know I grinned, I know I giggled, and I know I pried my wolf's arm up and off my shoulders before surprising him. I knew I was going to run off into the rain in the back yard, yeah. I don't think even I knew at the time that I was going to do it nude.
I know he thought it funny when I yanked my shirt off and tossed it down beside him on the chair. I know his eyes widened when I slipped my shorts off, too. And most clearly, I know the feral, hunter's glint in his eye, and what it meant for me, when I shook my backside at him.
What happened next... I don't really have any idea. He joined me I guess, because the next clear memory is of the two of us, paw in paw, spinning in the rain. Someone might call us childish, I suppose, but they can take those thoughts and stuff 'em. We were laughing, slipping in the soil-turned-mud, spinning about and holding each other tight. That's love right there, I suppose; complete and total abandonment of decorum and standards, to dance and laugh naked with your mate in the rain.
The ground was slippery... really slippery. It was only a matter of time before my clumsy self slipped and tumbled down into the mud with a splash. The back of my legs and arms, neck, my rump and my back all stained a deep brown as I went down. My wolf laughed at me, and after a vanity fuelled moment of annoyance, I found myself joining in. Probably because I kicked his legs out gently from under him and sent him tumbling into the dirty mess himself, but I can't be sure.
There's another fuzzy spot there, though I vaguely remember giving into my inner child and briefly making a 'mud angel' in the ground. It's not that hard since my inner child seems to be my outer self a large percentage of the time, but still. I know very well that the fuzziness clears when I remember how he kissed me.
I don't know what it was in that moment, but... it was wonderful. He's always wonderful, of course, that's how he is, but... by the gods was that kiss something special. Maybe it was the rain, maybe it was the way his water-matted fur pressed against my scales, maybe it was the scent of the drenched earth clinging to our bodies and beneath us. I don't know what it was, and frankly I don't need to know, either. I do know I kissed him back, and hard. I wrapped my arms around him and pulled him down against my body, and I could have sworn that I would never let him go in that instant.
When the kiss finally broke, it was because of a sudden shiver of self-consciousness that ran through my body. My head darted around this way and that, looking about at the houses all around us. I remember looking up at my wolf, and quietly asking him about them.
I saw it again, that gleam in his eyes. It was hunger, desire, want and need, and I knew, without him having to respond, exactly what it was he was thinking. I knew his answer without him needing to breathe a single word. That gleam simply said, "I don't care. Let them watch."
My body shivered again, a little exhibitionistic thrill coursing along my spine. I giggled again as his paws lightly trailed down over my chest and belly, and my wolf wasted absolutely no time in reaching down between my legs. Even through the hard rain I could see the tip of his malehood peeking up and out of his sheath, and I had absolutely no doubts about where that shaft would be heading.
With the thought, the lips of my genital slit started to part and I felt my own shaft start to slide free into the cool air. For a brief moment before he leaned over me I could feel the cold rain thudding down and against my length, soaking my sensitive flesh and sending tingles of pleasure through me with every drop.
We kissed again, and this time I knew for certain that I'd been the one to start it. I remembered hooking one arm around his shoulders and behind his neck, pulling him down against me hard and pressing my lips against his. Something about his sudden need fed back into me, I suppose... because from the moment I touched his lips again, I knew that I needed it just as strongly, right there in the rain, in the mud. No restraint, no concerns, no cares. Just his body and mine as the heavens opened up above us.
I remember feeling his breath panting out from his nose as we held our kiss, completely unwilling to release each other. I know I could feel small flecks of water against my cheek as I leaned up into the kiss, blasted there by his heavy pants. For some reason it sticks out in my mind that I must have been doing the same to him; perhaps it's such a strange, subtle feeling that it's so clear in my memories. Something that can only truly be felt by doing what we did.
I know well that by the time our lips were pulled apart, we both were panting heavily and we were both fully erect, hard as rocks. Our eyes met briefly, and judging from the smile that had been spreading across my wolf's muzzle, he saw his own desire reflected perfectly in my eyes. By the powers, I know that's how I certainly felt. At that point, I needed him, completely and utterly, and he knew it too.
I don't know that it would have worked... him, me, and an introduction between his malehood and my backside, if it weren't for a few hours earlier, in bed in the morning. I'd teased him, gods how I'd teased him... and he'd gotten me back by giving me one hell of a vigorous mounting. I'd have been lying if I wasn't still a little sore from it even then... but at least I was already stretched out for him, enough that the lubrication of the rain alone was enough.
It had to be enough; after all, neither one of us was going to take the time to run into the house and find something to use that the rain wouldn't wash away. No... we were there, and we didn't have any time we wanted to waste. Nothing like a sudden, burning lust to remind you how fast life moves, really.
If the kiss was amazing, the sudden touch of his tapered, canid shaft tip against my tailhole was electric. I remember my body twitching at that simple touch, feeling myself jerk lightly against the muddy ground, further dirtying my back. I don't even remember when he kneeled down, when he spread my legs wide and rested my lower back against his own legs. I do remember looking up at him though, seeing him grin down at me while water ran and dripped from his hair, his cheeks, his muzzle...
There's no blur at all around the moment of him slipping into me, that I know for sure. Just as I'd hoped, our earlier tryst had left me loosened up just enough to take him into me. He teased me for a moment, further payback for my efforts in the morning, I guess, rubbing that delicious lupine shaft back and forth over my waiting entrance. The sensation only further sparked my need, my breaths coming faster as I whimpered and pushed back against him, all but begging him to slip his malehood inside me.
Then it actually happened. His shaft felt cool briefly as he worked it into me, sinking himself into my rump. The rapidly shutting-down logical part of my mind told me that it was because of the cold rain, but the rest of me just savoured the different feel, even as my body's inner heat started to warm his malehood up again.
I knew I was sore, and I knew he'd taken me nice and rough earlier, but I couldn't help myself. I needed more, I needed every last inch of him, and I needed it right then. And there was a sharp, stinging pain of course... but even looking back, thinking of it, I couldn't have possibly done it another way. I pushed back onto him, digging my hands into the mud and driving myself down against him, pushing every inch of his water-slicked member up and inside me.
Honestly, I don't know what made the shuddering pleasure of that moment better... the discomfort and burst of reignited ache as he was buried in my depths was certainly a part of it. The rain, still beating down over our bodies only added to it, the heat of his body against mine perfectly contrasting the cool raindrops as they pelted us. Thinking back though, it must have been the mud... just that simple feeling.
I suppose it might have been a dirtier part of my mind opening up suddenly, but I knew there was nowhere else I wanted to be. I wanted to be right there, in the rain and the mud, soaked and dirty and messy, rutted by the big wolf grinding himself against my upturned backside. I wanted to be mounted and hilted in, to be mated and bred and rutted and taken, right there. I wanted him to drive my body into the ground and seed my depths. I needed it.
Gods, he wasted no time in giving it to me, either... My wolf spent barely a few moments letting my stretched out passage become used to his girthy shaft spreading it out, before he was drawing out and pumping himself back in again. His paws tightly grasped at my hips, holding me tightly against himself and keeping my legs spread out... as if I needed any further encouragement at that point. I was his, we both knew it, and my wolf was going to take his dragon without any reservation.
It didn't take long for him to start taking me as he had earlier in the day. There was an unspoken agreement, communicated in the barest meeting of our eyes, that this was not going to be gentle lovemaking. Something had a hold of us, of our bodies and desires, twisting us into primal beasts with only the need to rut and be rutted firmly seated in our minds. He was the alpha, that was for sure, and I was his bitch. Tell me that any other time and I'll get riled up, but in those moments I was his, completely and utterly, and I'd never have it any other way.
His hips wetly slapped against my rump as he bred me... that's the only word for what he was doing. He had to be giving over to instinct as he drove that thick length of malehood down into me over and over again, simply feeling the body beneath him as he gave himself over to mating instinct, pure animal lust and need. Never did I feel anything so powerful, so overwhelming in my life, as in those moments when he took me so vigorously.
I know I was moaning and crying out, whimpering and yelping with every buck of his hips. A part of me hopes the neighbours didn't hear, but that part of me was swallowed up by waves of pleasure and swept far, far away. I didn't care, not in the slightest, and every pump of those lupine hips against my rump had me all but screaming with pleasure and desire, desperately craving his release deep inside me.
And he denied me, for so long it felt like an eternity. He held himself back against my begging, against the squeezing of my insides down around his shaft, against my every effort to coax his seed out of him and up into me. Frustration born of lustful desperation filled me as I cried out, my own shaft standing tall in the chill air, pre trickling constantly down the underside as my fingers dug into the ground.
I felt myself sinking down into the mud a little with every deep thrust he made, being mated so hard he was pushing me down into the soaked ground. The slick earth slurped and squelched around me as my body shook, trembling in pleasure. I opened my eyes, and I didn't even know I'd closed them, in time to see my wolf above me lean his head back.
He was panting and growling and moaning as deep and hard and hot as I was. It must have been absolute torture for him, as bad as it was for me, as I think back to it. His knot, forming slowly at the base of that canid shaft, kept popping in and out of my passage and stretching me further. My body, so hot and snug around his malehood, squeezing tightly at it in an effort to tip him over the edge, the sound of my moans and begging beneath him...
And still he resisted the culmination of that primal act, held himself back from the edge with as much desperation as I tried to bring his climax. At the time I didn't care, I simply couldn't. I needed him to cum. I needed him to seed me, to claim me. I needed my insides to be marked thoroughly as his. I needed that big, fat knot to lock me to him while he unloaded himself inside me.
I hooked my legs around his middle, squeezing him tightly. Had I been in a rational state of mind I might have been concerned about squeezing too tightly, but in the heat of the moment neither he nor I gave it even the slightest thought. We were lost in the rain and the mud and the cold and the heat and the pleasure. All that mattered was my body beneath his, and his malehood being pumped back and forth within my squeezing tailhole.
I don't know if I felt it first or heard it first, but I knew in an instant just before he was going to reach his peak. His growls seemed to intensify in the way they always did, his panting pausing with a sharp inhalation as he threw his head back. His whole body tightened, his fingers dug into my hips, and he drew himself back until most of his shaft had been withdrawn from my clenching inner muscles. For the barest instant I felt empty, and a cold chill ran through my body.
Then... he slammed into me. Hilted, hard and fast. Pushed that knot right up past my tailring, stuffed it into me and locked my body to his. I felt my whole body tense with the sudden, familiar burst of pleasure-mingled pain as he filled me up completely, every last inch of his malehood pressed up and into me, fitting as perfectly as if I was made to take him. And then, I felt it.
You keep hearing stories of people who feel someone spurting inside them, and then others saying it doesn't actually happen like that for real. None of it mattered to me then, because I felt every last jet surging up through his shaft, his flesh pulsing and throbbing hard deep inside me as his essence flowed up and through it. It erupted from his tip as he howled above me, my own back arching as I released a pent-up cry of pleasure of my own. That time, I knew the neighbours heard. And that time, I definitely didn't care.
I felt every last pulse, every jet, every spurt of his seed as my inner walls were soaked in his liquid warmth. He ground himself against me as if eager to stuff still more of himself inside me, and in the moment I found myself wishing he had just another inch to give, to fill me with, to push me even further to my limits.
He felt right inside me though, as one of his paws quickly came down to my own neglected malehood and squeezed it tightly. Nothing in the universe had ever felt so right as that moment, my mate and love reaching his peak within me, saturating my most intimate depths with the very essence of himself. For how primal, how animalistic he'd rutted me... in some senses, it felt peaceful, perfect and... well, right.
His paw worked up and down my shaft as the rain continued to pour down on us. Things get fuzzy from there again, and I don't know what exactly happened... I was still completely dazed from his rutting me. My first coherent thought after that was my own climax. It must have only been a minute or so after he'd finished, his knot locking every drop of his seed inside me, but I remember clearly his grunts and murrs of renewed pleasure as my inner muscles twitched and squeezed down on his spent shaft, my own release tensing every muscle in my body.
I don't know that I could tell the difference between the drops of rain and my seed splattering over my body at the time, and thinking back it's too much a pleasure-laden blur that I don't think I'd ever be able to sort it out. I know a couple of my shots hit my wolf, his arm and his chest, one lucky jet slamming into his chin. After that it all becomes blurry again.
And then... there's now. The rain's still falling on us, still just as hard. Lightning's flashing overhead, thunder's booming, and I can feel muddy trickles of water running over me as I lay on my side. It's probably not going to let up, not that I want it to. Forecast said it was going to last all day and all night. Didn't predict my wolf and I, though, enjoying it quite so much. I don't know that I could have, myself.
I can feel him. He's still buried inside me, we're both still panting. One of his arms is wrapped around me, covered in rain and mud and some of my seed. I can feel his chest against my back, rising and falling rapidly as he breathes, his fingertips lightly tracing over my chest and belly. That knot of his isn't going down just yet, and for the moment that suits me just fine. Even if it weren't there I know we wouldn't be separating just yet, though... it feels too good for me to have him inside me, and it feels too good for him to be buried within me. After all, it feels right.
He reaches up and strokes over my cheek as he leans up to me. He whispers to me as he touches his muzzle to my jawline, and I can feel the smile spreading over his lips there. No more time to reminisce, I suppose... my wolf wants a nice, hot shower, and I'm certainly not inclined to resist that invitation.
It's not rain and mud, not by a long shot... but I'm sure we can make it work for us.
And thar we go. First first-person perspective story that's not trying any fancy tricks. What'd you think? Was it good? Could it be improved? Did I make you spill a load? Comment, score, something, anything. It's what keeps me posting stories here after all, and after the responses I got from my Training stories, you've inflated my ego to the point where I need more. It fuels me now, and without your kind words my power reserves will fail, and I'll be a derelict hunk of metal coasting through icy, inky skies... or something.
Once more, hope you guys enjoyed!