Lessons in the Wild

"It is. . . . a wonderful feeling Anwen. Your touch brings me pleasure I have never known," Roc confessed. As his hands continued to circle Anwen's bosom, squashing her hardened nipples back and forth against his thumbs, he said, "For a man, few things can compare to the touch—and the sight—of a woman giving such attention to this area. You will see the change that your touch brings about," replied Roc. He slid his hands down the contours of Anwen's narrow waist and over her generous hips, sinking his fingers deeply—and fiercely—into the thick of her tight rump. He gave her tense cheeks a little lift, causing Anwen to suck at the air with an open mouth, dropping his genitals in the process.

"Oh!" whimpered Anwen as her life-long companion—her guardian—lifted her lusty frame up and onto the tips of her toes with his sturdy hands. "Roc! When you grab me like that I. . . . I—" exclaimed an invigorated Anwen. She began to feel her heart beat rapidly beneath her chest and up through her neck. She felt as though she were on the hunt, in pursuit of her prey—or fleeing from a rampaging beast.

Roc slackened his grip on Anwen's backside and tugged her lithe frame against his body. Anwen felt as though a hefty log—fresh from the fire—had been thrust against her bare belly. She peered down and cried, "What's that?!"

Anwen leaned back to discover the mass of flesh between Roc's legs now towering before her, the tip seemingly burning a hole in her abdomen. The searing head had swollen to nearly double its former size, and the shaft impaling it had stretched and bloated so much so that it appeared to Anwen as if Roc now possessed a new part. Now apprehensive, she took Roc's pole back up in her grip, this time concluding that he felt as dense, as broad, and as rugged as the staff of hardwood she would use for stability when traversing the rocky mountains.

"Why is it standing up like this? It burns! How did you—how did it do that? It's. . . . it's so big—and hard as stone! Does it hurt? It looks so painful," exclaimed a stunned Anwen.

"It does not hurt—at least not in the way you know of pain. I did not make it so. This happens to it. . . . this is what it can grow to become, and it has a purpose. This time, it was you that made it change this way," explained Roc. His own chest now began to beat just as furiously as Anwen's.

"I did this? How?! With my touch?" Anwen continued her enquiry while she ran her hands up and down Roc's full length, revelling in her apparent powers over Roc's body.

"Yes. Your touch will do this to me. But it will often change like this at the sight of a woman's body. Sometimes it only takes a thought. There is often no reason for it. None that I can find," replied Roc. He sensed what type of questions were likely to follow.

"Do I continue to touch it like this? What is its 'purpose'? I've seen the animals with things like this. They press against the back of another and make awful sounds. Is that what you will do with this? Is this the purpose? So. . . . you put this—inside me?" reasoned Anwen, though she was baffled as to how this "thing" would actually fit inside her. Her knowledge of Roc's size and of the behaviours of animals led her to wonder how this "dance" could be a thing of delight for a woman.

"You are right. We are much like the animals, in many ways. This part—my manhood—grows like this so that it may enter a woman. When it is soft, it cannot. When I enter you, this will bring us delight that touching with hands cannot reach. That is why the animals make the sounds you speak of. They cry to the skies in pleasure, not in pain. This is how life is created inside a woman."

"But. . . . can you really fit that inside me. . . . down in between my legs?" asked Anwen. She dropped a hand down to her backside and fumbled about her openings, trying to gather just how exactly this "manhood" of Roc's would fit in either of these entries she once regarded purely as exits.

"Yes. It may not be easy at first, especially since you have not done such a thing before. . . . and due to my size—not all manhood's are the same—but your body also knows of this 'purpose' without having to be taught. It changes in its own way, to accept my entry. Here—if you'll let me show you what I mean?" asked Roc.

"Show me." Anwen consented. Roc placed his index and middle finger into his mouth, coating them in saliva. He then lowered his hand between Anwen's thighs, brushing against the insides of her legs along the journey, causing the young woman's face to flush red. Roc's fingers pressed softly against her velvety opening. He parted her labia, exposing the moisture within before rubbing his middle finger up and down, scouting for her opening. When his finger dipped against her passage, Roc paused and began lightly prodding, until he was able to gradually insert his middle finger—against firm resistance—all the way inside. His open palm nudged against Anwen's pubic bone, marking the limits of the depths he could plumb with fingers alone.

"Oh! Roc!" squealed Anwen. Roc proceeded to dip his wet finger in and out, periodically swirling her clitoris with his thumb.

"This is where I will enter you. My finger fits now, and if we take it slowly, my manhood will too. This is how a man may begin. This is how he may give a woman pleasure with his fingers. There are many ways." As Roc fingered his beautiful young student, he felt her begin to quake at the knees before collapsing in a heap against his chest.

Roc used his free hand to grab a thick knot of Anwen's hair at the back of her head, yanking down assertively to expose her flush neck. He then dove his head down toward her throat, tickling her skin with his bristled face as he lavished the supple surface with a lashing tongue. He steadily arced her lower back inward and took up a fluttering breast in his maw, rolling the rose nub at its centre around his tongue. Anwen's panting grew fierce as she spat out a gust of air, crowing Roc's name euphorically.

"Roc! I am. . . . I am on fire! Will you enter me?! Am I ready now?" croaked Anwen.

"You are ready to accept me now," affirmed Roc, slackening his tight hold before the young woman all but dissolved in his arms.

"I am ready Roc. But do I. . . . do I get on my hands and knees—as the animals do?" Anwen asked. She dropped to all fours upon the dewy grass by Roc's side, braced the ground with her forearms and hoisted her hips for presentation, causing her backside to widen and her flower to dilate. "Like this?" she added, peering back over her shoulder. It took all of Roc's willpower to resist the urge to mount Anwen right then and there.

"N-No. That is. . . . one way—but for now, we will try another way," replied Roc.

"On my belly then? The grass is soft. Here. Put your manhood into me now Roc," Anwen shuffled her arms forward and allowed her underside to sink into the freshness below. Watching on with his throbbing pole in hand, Roc groaned in pleasure at the captivating sight young Anwen's behind as it transformed from pear-shaped to pert. The companion he had raised from meek young-ling to vitalic woman—as his very daughter—now lay prostrate before him by the riverside, free of the modesty provided by her garments. There she waited for him—eagerly; earnestly; innocently beckoning to be entered. It now truly dawned upon Roc that such an opportunity would never have arisen if not for his exile—if not for Anwen's parent's untimely demise to sickness, many winters past. He could never have foreseen such a twist of fate. Loss and heartache—long accumulated—had unexpectedly led Roc to this sublime moment amongst the trees. Fate had yielded him this irresistible woman—now in her prime. A woman who knew little of the ways of men. Her insatiable hunger for each and every new experience propelled her beyond normal barriers of discomfort, fear and doubt. To her childlike mind, what she now shared with Roc—and had yet to share—were nothing more than life experiences to be seized and sampled.

"It will be easier for you Anwen. . . . if you come down upon this," explained Roc, scrolling his thickset fingers down his shaft. He went on to say, "Let me recline against that hillside over there. You will stand over my manhood and then lower down over it until you sit upon my lap. You will have control," instructed Roc. He then smothered the young woman's hand with his own and led her across a few yards of twigs and stones to a clear patch of low grass on hillside. Anwen followed along conscientiously, observing Roc's movements keenly as the man rested his backside against the surface of the hill. She observed with interest as the towering length between Roc's legs gleamed under a beam of luminescence which had pierced the nearby evergreens. His manhood seemed to be made of pure light.

As Anwen hovered above Roc's hips, it struck her that the the glowing staff she now readied herself to mount was well beyond the length of her feet. She felt the urge to be reassured by her companion, but refrained from seeking peace of mind given the faith she had in Roc's word.

"Okay," uttered Roc, clutching Anwen's agile hips. "Now. . . . press the opening I entered earlier, slowly down onto me. I will help guide my manhood inside you. Here. Place your hands upon my chest." Anwen obliged. Roc then continued, "Now press down slowly over the bump of its head. Relax, but expect some small pain—but it will soon pass."

"I will Roc," consented Anwen. Roc grabbed his appendage with a hand and braced it firmly as Anwen's labia began to part against his fat tip. He wiped up and down against her silky entrance until he felt the head snag on her small opening.

"There it is. Now, ease down slowly, but press firmly" instructed Roc. Anwen did as she was told, sinking the entry to her canal against Roc's bulbous tip, but her taut skin offered stubborn resistance against the intruder.

"It's too. . . . will it fit? It does not feel like it will go in Roc," exclaimed Anwen with a wince, her young flower trembling at Roc's brutish incursion.

"Just breathe deeply, exhale, and then press. You will stretch, but once the head has entered, the rest of my manhood will be easier to accept." Roc raised his large hands and fondled Anwen's lovely breasts, tantalised as they hung before him like sweet fruit. He hoped too that his touch may inspire her to press on and overcome her doubts.

"It's. . . . it's burning Roc, but I—I'll press down harder for you. . . . I trust you," responded Anwen, her bundled up energy adding a quaver to her tone. She planted her palms over Roc's shoulders, eased the tension which permeated her body by taking long and deep breath, and then bit her lip as she squeezed her opening down and over Roc's tip.

"Roc! It. . . . it's—" wailed Anwen, sensing a thud as the engorged ball of Roc's staff infiltrated her walls. She could feel her lower lips nestle tightly around the sides of his manhood. She paused for a moment before continuing her descent, gasping with intermingled suffering and satisfaction as Roc barged deep inside her cosy nook. Her maiden voyage soon came to an end when her rump made contact with Roc's prickly thighs and her shins flattened against the damp greenery which served as their love-bed.

"You are inside me Roc. I can—I can feel my insides. . . . closing in around you—holding you to me. It's—it's burning, but. . . . but it feels good to have you there," explained Anwen as Roc softly pecked away with an open mouth at her swollen nipples. He began to run his hands down her sides again, admiring her magnificent beauty before sinking his paws deep into the thick of her backside. Roc gently lifted her from this position to introduce Anwen to the motion of the dance; to have her feel him sliding deeply within her body. Anwen choked and gasped, sensing Roc's rugged appendage ripple against her delicate walls.

"Slide up and down against me like this. You feel the delight, do you not? Begin slowly, but you may begin to move with speed. Listen to your body—it will speak to you. This is the 'dance,' but this is just one way. There are other ways," explained Roc.

Anwen adhered to her companion's guidance, following along with the motion imparted by Roc's hands until she had taken complete command of the situation. Her mind focused intensely on the sensations flooding her body, choosing to close her eyes in order to narrow her attention even deeper within. As she became accustomed to the motions, the young woman took to experimenting with the angle of her descent, with her pace, and with the way she engaged her opening against Roc's manhood. Her inexperienced mind indulged in the stimulating effects Roc's grunting and grasping had on her. Her ears honed in on the slap of skin against skin and the squelching emitted by their fervent union. Anwen's body conjured up and expelled a protracted, guttural sound—against her will. She now felt as the animals must.

"Does this please you too Roc. . . . the sound of our skin? The hot and wet feeling of our parts? I will go faster now. . . yes, I love this dance Roc. . . . please grunt and pant like the animals. Grab my backside as you did earlier," commanded Anwen, now sucking in large mouthfuls of the fresh forest air as she pressed her palms roughly against Roc's stout chest.

"Yes Anwen. . . . the feeling is. . . . you are so—you are such a beautiful woman. Your body. . . . the way you feel. . . . your face—so sweet, so delightful. I should have come to bathe with you sooner—much, much sooner. " Roc seized Anwen by the back of her neck and added, "Bring your mouth to mine." Anwen leaned forward without resistance, revelling in Roc's brute strength and command. She asked no questions about his intent.

"You will also enjoy this sensation," said Roc, his lips faintly tickling hers as he whispered in close. Anwen closed her eyes instinctively while Roc began to suck softly at her tender lips. She attempted to follow along, but allowed Roc to lead, and after a few moments his tongue had begun to entangle her own. As Roc retracted it from her melting mouth, he suckled lightly at the tip of her tongue, briefly savouring her sweetness. Anwen's loins buckled with pleasure, overwhelmed by the magnitude of these new sensations flooding over her.

"Please. . . . please do that again Roc," begged Anwen. Roc obliged by pulling the ravenous young woman's mouth back to unite with his own once again. As the pair licked and sucked away—exchanging air and moisture—Roc gathered up Anwen by the hips and thrust his manhood sharply up and into her, causing Anwen to bite his lip in the process.

"Oh Roc!" wailed Anwen with a tiny smear of blood across her bottom lip. "Something is happening. My body, it's. . . . I-I'm. . . . I'm trembling between my legs. Help me Roc! What is this. . . . I can't stop shaking!" she roared.

"This is it Anwen. Your moment. This feeling—it is coming to you. Let it come like a wave—the highest delight. Don't resist. Let go and let me bring it from you. Let it happen. Just let it happen. It will burst forth if you let it," grunted Roc as he tightened his grip around Anwen's sweaty waist. He thrust her body against his and impaled her deeply again and again, burying his tongue like an arrow to her neck.

"Roc! Roc! It is coming! I can feel it! I will let go—I am letting go! Keep doing this to me Roc! Keep going!" wailed Anwen. Her thighs trembled until they could tremble no longer, and the rising radiance fluttering about in her loins erupted in a momentarily paralyzing sensation, her body stiffening and seizing up violently—but just as soon as it took her, so it released her from its clutches in a heartbeat. A ball of fire exploded at her center, filling her with a profound light which proceeded to course rapidly from her toes, right to the very top of her head, where it crawled and tingled through her scalp. The ecstatic woman's screams echoed far and wide throughout the forest, sending even its braver inhabitants skittering behind rocks and to their hiding holes. Anwen's fingers dug so deep into flesh of Roc's back that he feared she may rend the very meat from his bones. After the initial surge, Anwen felt the warmth linger heavily where Roc had her impaled. Meanwhile the rest of her body gradually mellowed into a sense of complete calm. She had never felt such love for Roc.

"Roc. . . . that was—I never imagined such things were possible. . . . that my body had this within it—that you could bring this from me. I love you so much." Anwen leaned forward with what energy she retained and kissed Roc lovingly, of her own volition this time. She paused and remarked, "But when is your moment? Does the warmth—the light come to your body too? Does the same happen for a man? You have not screamed as I did."

"Yes Anwen. It does come to a man. . . . sometimes before it comes to a woman, but—but when it does happen, the manhood falls. It comes to rest for some time. If my moment comes, I won't be able to stay inside you like this for much longer after. You must come first, and I must make it so. This is how a man pleases the woman he loves. He does not let his moment arrive before hers," explained Roc.

"It's—It's still so hard now Roc. It feels even harder—even bigger—than before, when I held it. My moment came. I want yours to come now. I want you to feel the light I felt. Please. . . . please—you can let it happen. Let go for me Roc," pleaded Anwen. "Will this help? The man enjoys these," she added, taking her perky bosom into her own hands to fondle her mounds before the eyes of her mounted man. She then began to rock up and down against his painfully hard protrusion as she seductively toyed with her breasts.

"Anwen—" Roc gasped. "It is. . . . different for a man. With my moment comes a seed: the life-seed. It leaves my body and enters yours. From it grows a child. . . . within you. This is how life is created. The seed does not always take to your soil, but. . . this is how it is planted." Roc clenched his anus and sucked air forcefully through his nose, deep into his lungs, struggling desperately to stifle his rising climax.

"I want you to feel what I felt Roc. I want us to create life. Put your seed in me. . . . I want your seed Roc," proclaimed the naive youth.

"But—we don't need to. . . . w-we. . . . shouldn't. If you just—climb from me. . . . you can bring my moment with your hand. The seed will come forth, but it will not enter your belly. You do not need to carry my child," grunted Roc.

"I owe you my life Roc. I want to give you life. Please give me your a child. We will create our own family—to love and to raise when we go to live in the village. Put the seed into my belly. This will be our. . . . new start. . . . our new life," begged Anwen, now thrusting harder and harder against Roc's meat, seeing her actions achieve the effect she desired. She began to flex her internal muscles, noticing how Roc quivered and grunted at the increased pressure. His eyes seemed to roll back behind his head and wetness began to escape the corners of his mouth.

"Anwen I—I. . . . is this really what you want: To have my child? To create a new family? If we keep going I will. . . . I will. . . . it's—it's coming Anwen, my love!" roared Roc as his testicles contracted and clung toward his body in preparation for the incoming release.

"Yes Roc! Let it go now. Let your seed into me. It's okay. I am no longer your daughter from this day forth. I am your wife. Do you hear me Roc? I am your wife today and I will be your wife when we live amongst the people. That is my decision. That is how I choose to live. We are stronger together. I can feel your strength. Our union makes us stronger," Anwen proclaimed to the skies with conviction.