Dangerous Woods

"Stan, I'm not sure about this," Layla said with a faint tremor in her voice, as she glared at the dark mist-engulfed forest surrounding them through the car windows.

"Oh, come on," he chuckled and continued to plant long, wet kisses on her neck and exposed shoulders, "don't tell me you're actually afraid."

"There've just been...too many rumors, reports...I..." she moaned, his kisses becoming more passionate, as he sucked on her neck, his hand reaching down underneath her low-cut blouse and cupping her breast gently.

"Bullshit stories for easily impressed teenagers," he dismissed her fears and focused on the task at hand, as he lowered the thin straps of her satin blouse off her shoulders, letting it fall under her breasts.

She continued to steal glimpses of the menacing-looking woods, while she grew more lightheaded, her worries quickly withering away and being replaced with hot, anticipatory thoughts of what was coming.

He leaned even closer to her and put his hand on her leg, gently caressing her thigh; she sought for his lips and finally found them, sucking on his tongue hungrily, when he thrust it in her mouth.

She spread her knees, allowing his hand easier access under her skirt; his soft, writer's fingers ran along her inner thigh, causing slight shivers to traverse her spine and a slight trembling to overcome her body.

His tongue was down her throat as he kissed her noisily, and rather sloppily; at the moment, she did not care, it felt good, and when he first touched her pussy, over her panties, she giggled and pressed her lips tighter on his, as a sudden jolt of electricity was shot through her body.

Encouraged by her intense kisses and body movements, he rubbed her above the panties harder, feeling the moist panties on his fingertips; the blood quickly rushed down to his southern parts, his mind lost in erotic yearning.

Softly, yet determinedly, she pushed his head down, wishing to feel his hot, wet lips on her skin; and more than willingly he accepted her physical demands, kissing her softly on the chest, sucking on her breasts, swirling his tongue around her erect nipples.

He pulled her blouse off, unceremoniously throwing it aside, and for a moment her face turned scarlet, as she was naked from the waist up in front of him for the very first time; he took a moment to savor the sight, then went back to kissing her, on the sternum and on the breasts, taking his time, thoroughly cherishing the moment, as well as the rising heat of her skin on his lips.

In the meantime, he had set her panties aside, exposing her dripping pussy to the cool air, as he gently rubbed her, occasionally pushing his fingers against her tight hole, teasing her without putting too much pressure to initiate penetration, and every time his rubbing turned harder, she moaned heavily, resting her head on the seat.

She spread her knees wider, as she pushed his head down once more; he thus moved his kisses down to her flat, contracting stomach and grabbed her skirt with both hands, slowly but steadily pulling it down.

He yanked her skirt down to her ankles, then helped her out of her panties too...her face turned even redder and her breath grew heavier, as she remained seated on the backseat, completely naked but for her ankle-high boots; he kissed her on the lips, then offered her a beaming smile—he was still dressed and his radiant smile caused the crimson on her cheeks to turn even brighter, as she caressed his cheek.

Stan repositioned her, forcefully laying her to her side, lifting her one leg up, then dove right in between her legs, tasting her for the first time; with slow, methodical moves he licked her outer labia, gently rubbing her clit.

Her body quivered at his touch, while she held on to the back of the front seat, her head resting heavily on the window, watching him in fascination working on her, gradually letting his tongue slip in and out of her...her wetness grew, as did her body temperature, and when she bloomed, he thrust his tongue deeper and began flapping it right and left, increasing the pace, while he rubbed her pussy harder.

She tilted her head upwards and with half-closed eyes she let out a prolonged moan, not minding the uncomfortable position she lay in, at the moment only caring about Stan's tongue and his passionate kisses on her nether lips; a shadow crossed her blurry sight, a tall, menacing shadow that momentarily walked past the car.

"Stan," she poked his head nervously, her pussy still convulsing, yet her racing heart swarmed with fear.

"What's wrong?" He asked in confusion; his initial frustration instantly evaporated from his eyes, when he noticed her aghast expression.

"Someone's out there," she said in a shaking voice, looking around horrified. "I saw...something walking right past the window. I..."

"Are you sure? Who was it?"

"I don't know...it was...a large shadow," she explained, as best as she could.

"A...shadow?" He nodded and a faint smile curled his lips. "It's nothing, Layla. I promise. At worst, a creepy peeper...there are bound to be some in a place like this. Don't fret over it."

"I don't think it was...a human shadow," she continued.

"You want me to go check?" He exasperated.

"No!" She shrieked, then cleared her throat and tried her best to smile. "No, you're right; maybe, it was just my imagination, or...yeah, just a creepy old guy with nothing better to do."

"Good," he sighed in relief and kissed her tenderly, putting one hand behind her head, while with the other he went back on working on her clit, trying to bring back the earlier wetness.

Though the shadow continued to creep in the back of her head, like an omnipresent ill-omen, she allowed herself to relax and to believe Stan's explanations to the best of her doubting abilities. And when he resumed kissing her down under, swirling his tongue inside her slow and easy, with two fingers stimulating her clit, she found it easy to dismiss the shadow as nothing more than prejudice caused by hearsay and urban legends.

He took off his soaked in sweat shirt and sat straight up next to her; he stared at her intensely and passionately as he unbuttoned his jeans and whipped his erect cock out. For a moment, she remained silent, her eyes fixed on his long, thick cock standing in attention, begging for her warmth and wetness.

"What's wrong?" He asked with a smirk, tangling his fingers between her long, curly, black hair—with the other hand slowly stroking his meat.

"Nothing, I just..." she gasped, then cut herself short—it was the second cock she ever saw and far bigger than Chad's (her high-school boyfriend). There was no way, however, she'd admit it, as she tried hard to maintain the image of a well-experienced woman unwilling to let her friends and classmates think of her as a smalltown prude.

"Come on, then," he encouraged her, putting his hand on the back of her head, "what are you waiting for?"

She leaned forth, breathing heavily; reluctantly, she stuck her tongue out and licked the soft, sensitive head. She grabbed the thick shaft, her small fist unable completely to close around it, and stroked gently, while she opened her mouth wide and took the head in, wrapping her lips tightly around it.

His grip around her hair tightened, grabbing a fistful and forcefully pushing her head down, making her take more inches of his shaft in her mouth; quickly, she found herself suffocating from the girth stuffing mouth up, the head hitting the back of her throat.

She sniffled loudly and often, snot filling her nostrils up, while he swayed his hips up and down, slamming his cock deeper, and harder. Layla took a hold of his big, clean-shaven, swollen balls and rubbed gently; when the drilling of her throat grew too intense, she gave him a hard squeeze, forcing him to produce a painful gasp and momentarily to stop.

Thusly, she controlled the pace, while allowing him some trace of control as well, as she slowly lowered her head, letting his cock glide down her throat and stuff her, blocking her airway; she drew air through her nostrils, each breath coming out as a soft whistle, while trying to hold him balls-deep in her throat for as long as biology would allow her.

When she jerked her head up, quite abruptly, she panted heavily and drooled all over his cock, leaving wet marks on his blue jeans; he patted the back of her head and pulled her upwards to his face and planted a soft kiss on her lips.

Then, almost violently he pushed her back down on him, slamming her throat; it was an overwhelming sensation for Layla, being thusly stuffed and used, hardly able to control her own breathing. And yet, despite the few disperse moments of despair, she caught herself getting overly excited and compelled to reach down to her pussy and rub herself hard, unable any longer to withstand the longing itch burning her southern region.

She ran her tongue across the throbbing shaft, covering it with even more saliva, making it even more slippery...Stan's heavy, deep moans were music to her ears, as she kissed the head, swirled her tongue around it softly, and stroked the shaft with both hands tightly clenched around it.

A loud, hungry howl broke the silence of the night, causing her to freeze in her position, with the cockhead in her mouth. Her heart pounded hard in her chest, seemingly trying to break her ribs and escape, and she lifted her terrified gaze to the sweating window.

She could hardly discern the forest, only faint shadows could she see, and yet... something appeared to be circling the car determinedly.

"There are still wolves living in the woods, Layla," Stan said, not trying to hide his frustration. "Sometimes, they howl. They can't, however, break into the car, okay? Relax," he sighed.

"Something's out there," she said, absentmindedly further tightening her grip around his cock, till she brought him to the verge of tears, "and I don't mean wolves."

"And I'd like to keep my cock unbroken, thank you very much," he gasped and tried to loosen her excruciating grip up.

"Shit, sorry," she chuckled nervously, as soon as she realized what he was talking about. "I wasn't thinking...are you okay?"

"Yeah," he leaned heavily back and sighed. "Shall we go back? I mean...if you're going to see shadows and monsters everywhere..."

"No, no," she shook her head—there was no other place they could do it, no other place that could offer them privacy. "We don't have to...it is kind of spooky, though; you've got to admit that much."

"Sure, yeah," he shrugged indifferently. "I guess, it does look like a cheap horror B-movie; what with the fog, the misty windows, the wolves howling...exciting, isn't it?"

"So, you're not afraid at all?" She raised her eyebrow, looking up at him, her head resting on his thigh next to his still standing tall tool.

"Afraid of what?" He chuckled, dryly. "Of a hook-handed maniac jumping out from the woods? Or, of Freddy slashing me into pieces? No," his laughter turned louder, and warmer. "The only thing that truly terrifies me right now is you biting my dick off the next time a stupid wolf howls at the freaking moon."

"Put that way," she sighed, "it does sound ridiculous."

"Thank you," he fired back with a victorious smile. "So, you don't want to leave, huh?"

He brushed her hair off her face, tenderly caressing her cheek; she hummed and offered him a wide smile. She turned on her stomach, her breasts resting on his thigh, and took his balls in her mouth, sucking them hard; "fuck," he moaned.

She stroked his shaft, running her hand slowly up and down its length, swirling his balls in her mouth; then, she began licking the shaft, running her tongue across it, once more wetting it with her saliva, making it more slippery...she took the head back in her mouth, it was easier now than before and gradually swallowed him down—he assisted her, by pushing her head lower.

Her throat was once more stuffed and his hip-movements drove the shaft harder down her throat, stretching her. Once again tears welled up in her eyes, as she kept him down her throat for as long as she could, before becoming desperate for air; he reached down on her ass and caressed her crack, gently moving his finger toward her holes.

She writhed, when he teased her asshole, rubbing her softly, twirling his finger around her tight, virgin hole; then, he stretched and reached her dripping pussy, slipping his finger in.

Layla got on her knees, whilst still sucking him fast, and down on all fours on the backseat, thusly granting him better access to her soaked cunt; a move that Stan was quick to take advantage of, as he slithered underneath her, lying down on his back and putting his hands around her waist.

His head between her knees, he pulled her waist down and made her sit on his face; instantly, he thrust his tongue inside of her, flapping it right and left, overwhelmed by her ever-increasing wetness.

Thoroughly excited, her lower body faintly trembling, she resumed sucking him, stroking his shaft with both hands while constantly keeping the head in her mouth, swirling her tongue around the sensitive tip.

Stan had a firm grip on her ass, spreading the cheeks while twirling his tongue deep inside of her, her juices dripping down on his face, soaking him; she continued to suck him, taking his rod easier down her throat, massaging his balls while deepthroating him, frequently overwhelmed by sudden jolts of electricity traversing her spine, causing her legs and waist to shake.

"I don't think I can take it any longer," he said in an overly agitated voice.

It took him a couple of minutes properly to reposition himself in the tight confines of his car; ultimately, he managed to stand on his knees behind her, rubbing his throbbing cock between her asscheeks, while she rested her head against the window, folding her arms under her chin.

He spat on his cock once, spread the saliva with his hand, and pushed the tip against her cunt; she squealed, when his girth stretched her out, as he resolutely buried himself deeper in her, holding her firmly by the waist.

"Jesus," she gasped, when he was balls-deep in her, stretching her out wide and reaching in deeper than anything she'd ever felt before...when the pounding commenced, she could not stop herself from screaming into the night.

He drilled her pussy hard, driving his shaft deep in her; the low ceiling of his car, however, did not make for a comfortable place for such action—after a few times bumping his head on the ceiling, and trying to fuck with his head bent sideways, which caused a tremendous ache in his neck, he pulled out and sat down, panting hard.

"It's not working, babe," he coldly explained, when she threw him an inquiring glance. "Come, sit on me," he slapped his thighs and slid to the middle of the backseat; Layla eagerly climbed on his lap, spreading her legs wide and wrapping her arms around his neck.

She sat down on him, once more feeling perfectly stuffed; she dug her fingernails in his shoulders, when he slammed her pussy, his swollen balls slapping hard and noisily against her asshole...at the same time, she rode him hard, eager to feel him deep in her. Every thrust stretched her out just a bit more, making it easier for her to accommodate his girth, making the pounding even more pleasurable...

Her chin resting on his shoulder, as she panted heavily straight into his ear; her tongue sticking out of her mouth, as her toes curled in her boots.

She shut her eyes tight, taking in the euphoria of the moment, as the pounding increased in intensity and velocity, her whole body bouncing fast.

He took her breast in his mouth and sucked on it, gently biting her erect nipple; her head on occasion banged on the ceiling, yet, at the moment, the pain was non-existent, she felt nothing but his cock being driven hard in her, sending spine-numbing shivers up and down her body.

Her rapid convulsions brought him closer to climaxing, as her muscles clenched around his cock, seemingly as if she was trying completely to engulf him, trap him inside of her...he grabbed a fistful of her hair and kissed her passionately, driving his tongue down her throat.

Layla reciprocated the kiss with equal passion and fire, unable to stop panting even amidst their kissing; she had to break the kiss, when her orgasm shot through her body like a lightning strike. She screamed into the night in sheer pleasure, as she lost complete control of her trembling muscles; Stan lost control too, shooting his load deep inside her, which only further intensified her orgasm.

She leaned on him weakly, resting her head on his shoulder and planting soft, weak kisses on his neck. He heaved, as he slipped out of her and a river of cum ran down on his crotch from her soaked, dripping cunt...he turned sideways and their lips locked again in a softer, longer kiss.

"My God," she whispered softly in his ear, "that was truly amazing, Stan, it was...OH MY GOD!" Her yowl nearly deafened him; her eyes goggled, her horrified stare fixed at the side window.

"Jesus, Layla, what's gotten into you...fuck," he followed her gaze and was suddenly petrified—a pair of bright red eyes were staring at them from behind the window, a dense shadow having clouded their view of the forest. "What the fuck," Stan muttered, when the car shook violently for the first time.

The car jerked again and again, every time more violently and every time it got closer to the point of tipping sideways.

"Out, get out!" Stan pushed Layla towards the door opposite the bright red eyes still hungrily staring at them through the window.

"It's jammed!" She cried in desperation, as she pulled and pulled the handle.

"Damn it," he exasperated, then the car jerked once more and they both landed on the door heavily.

When the car fell back on all four wheels again, they flew around like ragdolls; Stan looked in horror at the blood on his fingers after he had reached for his throbbing head.

"Watch it," he told Layla and shoved her aside; with anger boiling his blood, he threw brutal kicks on the jammed door, causing it to bulge, but, not break open.

Layla crawled to the front and was able to push the door open; "come on," she slapped his shoulder, as she crawled out of the car; another brutal shaking of the car caused the speed handle to smash against her ribs, a thunderous jolt of pain momentarily stunning her.

"Hurry," Stan pushed her forcefully, ignoring her muffled sobs.

They both got out—Layla naked but for her boots and Stan's unbuttoned jeans still hanging around his knees—and crawled away from the still-jerking car; "holy fuck," Stan gasped, when the car finally tipped off and landed on its top.

For a moment, it was all they both saw; the upside down car. It was only after a moment they noticed the perpetrator standing victorious with its forelegs on the car—the same pair of devilish red eyes staring at them.

"What in the hell is this," Stan muttered to himself, unwilling to believe in the humongous wolf standing right in front of them—a nearly seven-foot beast gnarling at them, while licking its fangs with what to Stan appeared to be a smirk of sheer satisfaction.

"Come on," Layla yanked his arm violently, desperate to bring him out of his trance—Stan had been completely petrified, seemingly mesmerized by the still-standing wolf.

It was only when the wolf took a steady step toward them that Stan came out of his trance; he crawled backwards, his stare fixed on the beast.

"Get up, come on," Layla repeated, already on her feet and trying to lift him from the shoulders.

"Run, Layla, I'll catch up with you," he said, absentmindedly.

But, she refused to leave him behind. He got up to his feet, but, his jeans remained unbuttoned and one backward step was more than enough for him to trip and land flat on his ass on the cold dirtroad. He screamed in agony, as a sharp rock penetrated his thigh deeply.