Come Camping 2

She led him into the forest just to the tree line where she could see the water. Her naked body illuminated by the moon feels like an illusion to him, an impossibility. He needs to think but his desire is overwhelming him. God she's a vixen when she wants to be. For months she's played him, teased him, driven him crazy. Years even, if he's honest with himself. He wants to warn her, or beg her, he doesn't know which. He can't decide where the ground rules are, or if they are at all. He tries to speak but she puts a finger on his lips. All I want you to do is follow me, you may stop anywhere you want. He suddenly knows exactly what she wants, why they are here and not the tent. But he's unsure. He can't quite give her all of it, and he can't take advantage of her despite the fact that he's certain he'll come again if they begin this. He has to know. Through the blur of a throbbing dick and an ache he can't name, he locks eyes with her and takes control. Are you high? No. Have you been taking your meds? Yes. How many miles did you run today? Two. Are you satisfied? No. Why did you come? Why did you? She leans her back up against the trunk of a beautiful tree that sparkles and swishes in the warm breeze. He lets her pull his shirt off, for the first time seeing his chest. She smiles. He relaxes. Then she pushes down his already open pants and watches him kick them off. He keeps his underwear and she allows him that, understands. He takes her arms and pins them behind her against the rough tree. She is looking out over the gentle water, but he knows she's not seeing it. I want to be clear, he says. I want you to tell me when to stop. She doesn't speak but she nods yes. This is what she has wanted since she was nine. A way out of the memory. Control of it. This is not something he does lightly. Or ever. But for her he will make this one exception. This one time. Even if it hurts him to do it. She leans her head back offering him her neck and he takes it roughly in one hand, pulling her hair back hard with the other. He searches her eyes, they blaze with hate, but not fear, and neither is for him. She is back in the parking lot, where she should not be. She's ready. Pulling her hair harshly against the tree he wraps it around a branch allowing himself two hands and holding her head back at the same time. He grabs her neck and squeezes, she can breathe but she can't move. He goes farther now. Puts his leg between hers pinning her down. He thought that this could never turn him on, not with her especially, but his knee against her wet pussy suddenly sends heat through his body and he growls in sudden impatience. He sees fear flicker in her eyes for just a moment and let's up just a little but she snarls at him, don't stop. He pushes his knee deeper into her crotch and grabs her twisting hard, then grabs her whole boob and digs his fingernails into it drawing a gasp and a tear. But the look on her face is resolute, and angry. He yanks it up toward his mouth and bites it, just short of drawing blood. Trading sides he grabs her neck harder this time, twists her face and bites her ear. Moving down he bites her shoulders, he knows he's leaving marks, bruises, he knows that's what she wants. He goes faster biting the flesh between shoulder and tits, finally smashing it up into his waiting mouth and crushes while biting. He can't do it. Can't bring himself to see her cry, taste her fear. But when he looks up he finds defiance in her eyes. He uses both hands to grab her waist as tightly as he can, feeling her skin scrape under his nails. Slams his hard but still covered cock up against her. He knows what he must have called her, but he is NOT going to do it. Again he pushes his cock hard between her legs puts his hands on her ass and slams them up against it, scraping her back against the tree. She is rigid now, fighting the fear, fighting the memory, demanding that it give up it's power over her. He runs his cock hard against her, back and forth but he can't cum while he's hurting her. He refuses to be him. Suddenly he realizes how it ended. He can see it in his mind, and it horrifies him but he is going to allow her to change it. He yanks his dick free of its confinement removing the last point of safety, times himself carefully, grasps her neck as hard as he thinks she can take pushing up against her chin, grabs her hands behind her tougher and tighter than he possibly should in a move he has never made before, and pulls his body back just enough to end it with one final plunge so deep into that she will break, scream, bleed, bruise, sob, curl up in a ball in a parking lot,in the dark, alone. But just before he does it he gets the response he prayed for, because he could never have followed through. NO, she screams, and suddenly with power neither one of them realized she had, she breaks free and shoves him hard. The blazing uncontrolled wild fury flashing in her eyes now emanates from her whole body, demanding it's hatred be allowed to be free. His could you? Who does that, you sick bastard? What the fuck is wrong with you? Never, Ever, Ever, touch me again. She screams it at him. He knows and he waits knowing what comes next. It's like the life drains out of her before his very eyes, pours out through her tears that waited for 30 years, rages out through anger she's too exhausted to even sustain, and he catches her as she sinks to the sand. Let's her sob, gently running his hands over her whole body, slowly, as softly as he can. He gently wraps her arms around his neck, scoops her up, and carries her into the warm, moonlit water, washing her clean with it. Calming her. Waiting for her to ask him, or to sleep. He knows the adrenaline crash all too well. He lays her back and rinses out her hair running his fingers gently through it like a parent soothes a child. Doing what he did for his own children in what seems like a lifetime ago. What someone should have done for the broken child in the parking lot. When she finally looks up at him her eyes are so vulnerable, he leans down meaning to just barely brush her lips, reassure her, but instead she drinks him in deep and slow. She wraps her fingers around his penis and it responds quickly to her touch. A blissful breath escapes his lips. Afraid she's trying to repay him he opens his eyes and sinks them deep into hers, but finds only real desire. She pulls his underwear off but still respecting his wishes she only touches, strokes, swirls her fingers around the tip, allows the water to create suction between her hand and his shaft in a pleasure he's forgotten somehow. But it's not enough and he knows what is. He takes his hand and slowly and ever so gently slides his fingers into her. Two, then three. She's wrapped around the side of him and he can just reach her breast with his mouth. He uses only his tongue to elicit the moans of pure pleasure he aims for. The only sound he will right now accept. He wasn't sure he would come again but suddenly she lets go, uses her fingers to stroke downward, rings his tip and pinches it gently. Just enough pressure to hold it in, because she releases and his cum floats out into the black water, a moment later, accompanied by hers as his mouth encircles her breast and finally sucks it gently. Pressing her chest against his, she relaxes completely spent. They float there for a while, talking quietly yawning more and more often, till finally he again picks her up and carries her to a warm waiting towel. When she lays down beside him, sleeping bags pressed together, he toys with her hair as she drifts off beside him, knowing that she was right. It could never be just once. It could never be just once.