dontravis.com blog post #572
Last
week, Hargis met Gwinnyth, a pixyish enchantress and failed to take advantage
of what she readily offered. Today, he plods on toward the top of the mountain
on his way to the sea. What happens next?
THE
MOUNTAIN
By
Mark Wildyr
Easing my hunger from the dried stores in
my bag, I washed up and was soon on my way through this strange place. Once again, strewn
boulders blocked my way in the steep part of the trail, forcing me to do some
climbing. At
mid morn, I reached the crest and looked eagerly to the east. There was nothing
to see except for the broad seaward slope of the mountain and a haze in the
distance. It
was as if what the pixie, Gwinnyth, had said was God’s Truth. This mountain was
it’s own world.
Resolutely, I set upon my trek again,
finding the going faster on the downhill trail. The sun had long passed overhead
before I paused to take sustenance again in a broad highland meadow like others
I had left behind. There
was no rushing stream to my left, but doubtless there was one somewhere nearby.
As I munched on tasteless dried goods, the
hair on the nape of my neck began to bristle. Carefully, I turned to lean
casually against the bole of a tree. In the periphery of my vision I saw the
gamin. She
had followed me.
“I see you,” I said gruffly.
“And I see you,” came the reply,
surprising me by the timbre of the voice. It was lower, masculine.
The figure stepped forward, and I saw that
it was not Gwinnyth, but it could have been for the closeness of the
resemblance. The
pixie face was slightly larger, and the chin was male, the upper lip showing a
faint line of down. This
was a boy.
Confused, I stammered. “H…have we not met
before?”
“Nay, I’ve not set eyes upon you before,
although I wish I had. You
are long on the trail?” the adolescent voice asked.
“Some days,” I responded.
“Come with me, and I will show you a
welcome surprise.”
“I’ve a way yet to go. I’d best—“
“Tis but a short distance. And you will be
pleased.”
Intrigued, I followed the youth into the forest.
My eyes
fastened upon his lean figure, discerning muscles playing beneath his rude
clothing. I
was brought to think of Gwinnyth walking before me in her feminine, boyish
gait. This
youth walked in a manly way tainted by a girlish grace. Confounded by my
interest, I was glad when he came to a halt and gestured.
“See! There it is!”
He pointed to a dark, green pool from
which steam arose. It
was one of those natural baths heated by the earth. A thing much coveted
for reasons of health.
Confident that I was intrigued, the youth
abruptly shed his clothing and stepped into the water. I could not help
but notice his dark nipples, lean belly, and the dark hair around his manhood.
He grinned
as he took note of my observance and then sat in the pool with a curiously
feminine flourish.
Suddenly tired, I stripped naked and
entered the pool, taking a seat facing him. His eyes had examined me closely
throughout the entire process.
“You are a lot of man,” he said as we
faced one another in the hot, soothing water. Having no reply to that, I asked
his name. “I
am Donneth,” he responded.
“Some time back on the trail, I met
someone who looked a lot like you,” I said.
“Ah, that must be Gwinnyth.”
Comprehension dawned. “She is your
sister?”
“Aye. I have sisters. And a brother.
And you are
Hargis, are you not?”
“How did you know? Oh, I see. You have spoken to
your sister.” I
colored abruptly. Had
she told of my rod pressed against her buns? My flush deepened as I wondered if
she related my subsequent loss of interest.
A hand on my thigh interrupted my
thoughts. I
flinched.
“Have I offended you?” the youth, who I
now judged three or so years my junior, inquired. “I simply sought
to touch that splendid rod.”
“Where I come from men do not touch men in
such manner,” I said gruffly. Yet in truth, I was not offended.
“That world must be a horrible place,” he
said simply and leaned forward to gaze into my eyes.
“That world is your world,” I snapped.
“Nay, not mine! This is my world.
Where I can
offer my friendship as I see fit.” The hand came to rest on my thigh again.
I made no
protest. It
caressed me for a moment before moving higher to close over my rod gently.
To my
surprise, I responded to the touch. My staff grew in his hand.
“Ohhh!” he purred, inching closer. “It’s magnificent.
Stand so I
can see it. Please!”
Whether out of perversity or a need
arising from casting aside two attractive women, I complied. I stood with
tendrils of hot water cascading off my body, my suddenly exposed parts cooling
in the mountain air. Yet
my cock continued to stiffen.
It’s beautiful!” Donneth murmured, moving
forward to lick the end. I
started, but otherwise did not move. He ignored my spasm and energetically
washed the end with a moist tongue. As I watched through startled eyes, he
took my rod in his mouth…that is as much as he could handle. In truth, that was
less than half of the excited monster. And there was no denying that it was
excitedly rampant.
The rest of me was shocked into immobility,
but not my rod. It
pulsed with life as he slid up and down on it. It was alive with strange wonderful
sensations heretofore denied it. When his hand grasped my stones, I was
freed from my paralysis, but strangely, I stood in the hot water allowing this
violation of my person.
Before it ended, the rest of me
participated. I
found my hands on his head, pulling him to me forcefully. My thighs began to
move, thrusting at him. Surely,
I was hurting him as I rammed myself down his throat, but he made no protest.
At length the
internal storm began to gather. My knees weakened, my frame shook. Strange
currents swirled within me and centered in my stones. He sensed my reaction and
set to work even more eagerly. When the eruption came, the boy took my white
lava effortlessly, sucking and licking at me until the eruption was finished. He
was reluctant to release me even as I sank gratefully back into the water.
“Why…why did you
do that?” I panted.
“Because I knew it
would please you,” he responded simply. “And because it pleased me,” he added
with a sly grin.
Exhausted, I lay
back in the water, and the boy moved beside me. Wordlessly we rested, his long
slender frame brushing against mine from time to time. Perhaps we slept because
when I opened my eyes it seemed darker. With a start I felt his legs scissor
around mine. His eyes were huge and bright with excitement. Fingers worked my
staff, and it betrayed me yet again.
Taking me by
surprise, Donneth sat astride me. I had no idea of what he intended until he
centered my rod on his hole. Then he pressed himself down against me, almost
submerging the both of us. Intent on preventing this, I stiffened my body and
shuddered when he slid slowly down the length of my cock. His buttocks rested firmly
against my thighs. He was impaled!
“Donneth!” I
gasped.
“Be calm, Hargis,”
he cooed in his man-boy voice. Involuntarily my hand moved, and I assured
myself of his manliness by closing on his rampant tool. It was outsized when measured
to the rest of him.
Suddenly inflamed,
I thrust against him, sending my staff deeper. Perhaps I intended harm, but
that was not the outcome. His mouth opened in pleasure, his eyes closed in
ecstasy. I lost myself in him. I turned us so that I was atop his slender frame
and found myself surprised by the hard, supple muscles beneath me. He was a
man, of this there was no doubt. And I pummeled this man, this youth, feeding
him my staff with all the energy of a stag fucking a doe; a ram, a ewe; a man,
a woman. I used him as a woman, this time giving him my seed in the black
depths of his entrails. I came as I had never come before. I fucked so hard
that I drove his sperm from his body. I sought to draw a plea for mercy from
him, but only succeeded in exciting cries of pure pleasure.
When I could stand
it no longer, I staggered erect and allowed him to wash my cock clean of our
wastes. Then I pulled him to his feet, taking some satisfaction at his
unsteadiness.
“Such a man!” he
whispered as he leaned against me for support while we waded out of the pool. Immediately,
he became the host again, taking toweling from some hidden spot and drying my
body despite my protest. Then he allowed me to dry him. Touching his nether
regions inflamed me again, but I turned away before I ruptured something or
other on my insides.
I slept with
Donneth beside the comfort of a fire, and before the night was done he fondled
me to erection. Just before he took me in his mouth, he looked up at me.
“Are you sure?”
“Aye,” I responded,
and so he drew my seed into his throat. I asked if he would accompany me on the
morrow, but he could not comprehend departing this world of his.
And then he drew
me atop him. Feeling my reaction, Donneth touched his nose to mine. “Are you certain?”
he wanted to know. I merely nodded and placed his legs atop my shoulders. He
begged me for a fucking he could remember me by. I rendered him one for the
better part of a candle-length and then fell into a sound sleep. At dawn, he
was gone when I woke. As with Gwinnyth, there was no sign he had ever been
here.
Could it be that Hargis
has been instinctively waiting for Donneth… or someone like him… to appear? If
so it seemed a successful gamble. But having sampled the delicious youth, what
could possibly be waiting over the hump of the mountain?
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