Last Hope

When she sucks in her breath, I jerk the corner of my pants over to cover up the new erection, but the fabric does little to disguise it. I move into a crouching position and ignore the pain that shoots from my cock up my spine. Hopefully the pain will make my arousal die off. I grab sand from the bottom of the cave and rub it over my dick until the come is off along with some of my skin. I’ll have to be more gentle with Ava.

How can I stop wanting her? This must be hell—to have the very thing that you desire but cannot have dangled in front of you unceasingly. The need to protect her and keep her safe is warring against the need to possess her. Under my skin, those two violent desires are battling and I’m afraid of the victor. Afraid for both of us.

“Don’t do it again,” I growl and ignore the dark desires that course through me as she warily eyes my advance. Her eyes flick to the side, signaling her desire to escape, but before she can run to another part of the cave I grab her hand and rub dirt over it, scraping off the evidence of my weakness until all that is left is her soft flesh.

“It’s just a hand job,” she says, slightly defensive, slightly confused. I don’t clear up the issue for her.

I’m a razor-thin thread away from taking the club between my legs and shoving it in one of her hot wet holes. How many times does she think she can touch me, or how many times does she think can shove her fat tits into my face before I throw her down on the nearest surface and break her in two?

“Get some sleep,” I order.

“I thought orgasms were supposed to mellow people out. Not make them into bigger assholes.” She jerks out of my grip and stomps to the other side of the fire. I try not to watch her but my traitorous eyes follow every movement. The firelight makes everything more erotic. When she bends over, the light highlights the swells of her breasts and creates shadows in the deep valley between them.

I brace myself for the onslaught of tears but I get nothing except her quiet breath and small movements as she tries to find some comfort on the stone and dirt. Somehow her quiet acceptance of my shitty behavior is worse. If she cries then I would have an excuse to go to her and sweep her up in my arms under the guise of comforting her.

But her silence is far more effective punishment. She shuts me out and I have no reason to go to her. The fire will keep her warm. The cavern will keep her dry. She has water and food. Tonight I am merely a nuisance, and an ungrateful one at that.

As penance I force myself to stay awake all night to feed the fire.

In the flickering firelight, she looks angelic. Her hair pillows around her face. The flames cast a golden glow over her normally pale skin. Her lips are red, her cheeks rosy. The heat of the fire gives her a healthy glow.

I can almost convince myself I’m not in the jungle and that Ava and I are camping out in the desert. Outside the monkeys scream at each other, the pumas howl, and the snakes slither around on the ground. In here, it’s warm and dry.

I watch the fire so long I imagine myself in another place, with Ava. This time we’re on the beach. She’s got some tiny white bikini stretched across her ass and when she walks, the drums start playing. I’m lying on a lounger, one of those wooden things with a cushion so my ass doesn’t get sore from sitting on it so long.

She stops at the edge of the water and the ocean waves lap at her feet, giving her tiny caresses. For some reason, because this is my fantasy and her ass is like a minor miracle, she begins to do toe touches and every time she bends over, the white spandex rides a little higher until it’s bunched between her cheeks.

She casts a coy look over her shoulder and then runs her fingers along the elastic edge of those bikini bottoms and pulls the excess fabric from her crack. She tugs the white bottom down so far I can see the crease between her cheeks. She purses her lips together and winks. Then the bottoms go down so far she’s mooning me.

I shoot up from the lounger and am on her in a half second. Maybe less. Rockets move slower than me.

I shove the white bottoms down around her thighs and then push her into the sand. I spread her cheeks and see her outer lips are swollen and wet and her dark eye winks at me. I lean forward and bury my face in her ass, licking everywhere, sucking everything. I’m the parched guy in the desert and her cunt is the only font of water available. That’s how hard I am on her, how far my tongue is up her *.

When she’s panting and crying and begging every known deity for mercy, I take my dick in hand and press it against her opening. She’s sopping wet and my dick slides in like there’s two gallons of lube spilled between us. Her cunt walls grip me tight but I don’t shoot my load immediately.

Nope. I savor it. I draw out to my tip and then push back in so slow that ants crawling at a picnic have time to eat the entire pie. She continues to drench my cock with her come and I hear the slap and suck of our bodies as she arches into my every thrust. I slap her ass and watch the bubble of flesh jiggle erotically. I slap her again and she mewls for more. I tap those mounds a few more times until she goes wild on my cock.

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