Small Town Paradise

Chapter 8: Leo

My name is Alex. I’m 37 years old and single. Here is Chapter 8 of my story about how I recovered from a long period of self-imposed celibacy and rediscovered my long-suppressed sexual drive.

* * * * * *

I really got into hiking in the hills around the town. The woods were beautiful and the views were spectacular on sunny days. I had walked most of the trails in the parks and the state forest, except a longer one which went up to the top of a mountain peak above the valley. It was a more strenuous trail and took more time to hike than other routes around the state forest so I planned a full day during the week for the excursion, with food and water in a back pack.

The day was glorious—clear blue skies, not too hot, and just a little breezy. I set out early and by 10:00 I was well up the mountain. The sun felt so good that I took off my shirt and after a while, figuring that I wasn’t going to encounter any other people on a week day I took off my shorts as well and proceeded naked. You probably know by now how I’ve discovered that I love going naked. I’ve even become a bit of an exhibitionist, what with George’s training, but mostly I just love the feeling of freedom of going without clothes and letting my dick and balls swing free.

I stopped midday in an open area that allowed for a partial view of the valley below. I sat down on my shorts, leaned against my backpack for a rest, and opened a bottle of water for a drink. I wasn’t tired but I was really relaxed so I dozed off for a while. I was awakened when I felt a shadow pass across my face. When I looked up there was this very tall, very tautly-muscled man with shaggy, shoulder-length blond hair and a full beard, barefoot, his chest and abs covered in soft blond hair, and wearing nothing but a very narrow loincloth of soft leather that was tied around his waist by a cord and barely covered his privates. He stood straight with his arms at his sides, looking at me with a piercing gaze from his pale blue eyes. I was very surprised, needless to say, and was embarrassed at first by him finding me here naked and alone, but something about him let me know that he was not a threat. After all, he was nearly naked himself.

“Hello,” I said.

“Hello,” he replied, in an incredibly deep, hypnotic voice.

…

“Come with me.”

“Oh, I’m just out for the day, going to the top of the mountain for the view, I live down in the…

“Yes. Come with me.”

“Oh, I …”

“Come with me.”

Well, I thought, this is weird, but somehow I felt compelled to follow him. He didn’t seem threatening; he seemed gentle, even. And deeply sexy. I pushed away every thought I had of being smart and sensible and rational. I was irresistibly drawn to him, his lean body, and his shaggy hair and beard.

He picked up my pack and we went up the trail, me following his slender, naked form. We kept on for about twenty minutes before turning off to the right and following a path that was almost imperceptible, until we reached a clearing next to a small stream. In the clearing was a crude lean-to structure with some basic cooking items and a make-shift bed of canvas on top of a layer of soft fir branches. I stood in the middle of the clearing, feeling awkward but not scared, and not wanting to run. I was deeply curious about this mountain man holding me in a thrall. He put my pack down on the bedding, turned to me and stared with his incredible pale blue eyes into mine.

“You are beautiful,” he said in his hypnotically deep voice. “You are beautiful. I want you.”

I stood still, like someone in a trance, staring back as he came close, wrapped his arms around me, stroked my body with his rough hands, and nuzzled my neck with his full beard and shaggy hair. A small clay talisman he wore on a string around his neck dangled in my face. He murmured low and deep into my ear, “Bend for me.” I turned around and did as he asked, my bare ass facing him. He pressed against my back and rubbed my cheeks softly before running a hand up and down in my crack, probing my hole with two fingers and finally gently pushing them in and stretching the opening.

I gasped. I was suddenly in heat. I wanted him to fuck me. I wanted him to fuck me hard. I wanted to be bred. I bent over further and pulled my cheeks apart to open my hole to him. Then he untied his loincloth and let it drop. I couldn’t see his cock but I felt him start to push it in. Slowly, slowly he entered me, inch by inch, until I felt his full bush on me. He paused for ten seconds or so and then banged his full weight into me, bit me lightly on the back of my neck, sounded a short grunt and a long, deep growl. Then he pulled back and started a quick series of deep, hard thrusts, until finally I felt a hot burst of semen in my ass.

Then, to my amazement, he pulled out, breathed heavily in my ear again and walked away to lie down on the canvas bedding. I followed him, laid down next to him, and spooned my back against his chest. He wrapped his arms around me. In a daze, I laid there in wonder about what was happening to me until, after some time passed, I felt his cock probing my ass again, his mouth biting gently on my ear and his deep voice speaking low: “I want you.” Then followed a repeat of the previous session—a long, slow entry of his hard, straight nine inches, a full bang, and then a quick series of deep, hard thrusts until I felt another jet of hot cum in my ass. I wanted him to stay in me, but he pulled out, leaving me feeling empty, unsatisfied, and gasping with lust.

We repeated this routine at least six times through the night, the clearing lit only by the moon. I lost count, but with each session I got more and more obsessed with being fucked. I didn’t care about getting myself off, I just went crazy hungry to feel his rough hands on my body and his cock thrusting into my ass. In each session he licked my face, bit my neck, nipped my earlobes and blew hot breath into my ears. I got up each time and pointed my ass to him. I pulled my cheeks apart. I got down on my hands and knees and begged him to fuck me. I wanted to feel his beard on my face and neck as he nestled in behind and on top of me. I wanted him to bite the back of my neck. Mostly I wanted his long, hard cock banging into me and more of his hot semen flooding my ass and dripping out of my hole. I silently howled in heat. I wanted to be mated to this wild mountain lion. Leo.

Dawn came and I woke from a drowsy sleep, shivering in the cool morning air. To my surprise I was no longer in the clearing with the lean-to by the stream but back on the trail where I had first encountered the man. I was resting against my backpack just as he had found me so many hours before. Totally confused, I wondered if I had dreamed the whole night’s experience. I sat up and noticed that my stomach and chest were crusted over with dried cum, and around my neck on a string was a small clay talisman. I turned it over to see what image was on it.

Pressed into the disk was the small print of a lion’s paw.