Erotica: Animal

Hand of bodybuilder

We had been dating for several months now and things were going wonderfully, it really was amazing how we just clicked on so many levels. He made me laugh with his random off the wall jokes and commentary. He cooked amazing meals on a daily basis often spending hours in a hot kitchen preparing an amazing dinner, something was always on the stove. On our first date he fixed my leaking faucet and ever-running toilet and several doors. He was kind and gentle while at the same time strong and powerful, his large stature towered over my much smaller frame by comparison and I loved it. I felt tiny compared to him, delicate to a certain comfortable degree.

The way I fit in the little nook between his arms when he wrapped his large strong arms around me and gently squeezed, from time to time he would give a big bear hug and lift me off my feet and as my legs kicked gently in the air he would kiss me, trapped in his arms I was helpless to stop him. I loved that even while on the tips of my toes he would still have to bent over a bit to kiss me.

I quickly became enamored with him and the person he was, he was genuine and real, he was himself, nothing more and nothing less.

It wasn’t until recently that I developed a new fantasy, I don’t recall what may have sparked it or how it began. Perhaps it was during the throws of a passionate night or while having a relaxing night together watching T.v.

Something just made me realize.

He is BIG.

I don’t mean as in dick-size (though he’s no slouch in that department either) I mean physically he is a Big person. At first I simply believed that I was just very small, standing at 5’2″ I am shorter than the average woman so I just assumed most people would be taller than me. However I began to notice that he wasn’t just taller than me, he was taller and bigger than MOST people we came across.

He stood at about 6’8″ and while it isn’t huge it’s bigger than most. His frame was large and his demeanor was imposing, his muscle-clad body built from a lifetime of hard work. His hands were strong, coarse and scarred from working with heavy metal tools all day.

It was one thing to look at him as he presented himself, to take that first impression and just go with it, accepting the fact that it was just who he was. I realized that I had started to study him, to observe and document his actions and how he navigated the world around him, a world that just wasn’t built to meet his specifications. How he had to duck to miss door frames or hanging branches. How the floor creaked and groaned under the weight of his steps, each with a solid Thunk as he would stride into the room.

Secretly I began to test his limits for no other reason than my curiosity.

What are his limits? What is he capable of? How much does he hold back?

I decided to start with something simple.

“Babe, can you get this jar open for me?”

He takes the jar in one hand and the lid in the other and with a quick jerk and soft Pop the lid came right off without the slightest resistance. Fine, no big deal, MOST people can open jars. Don’t get me wrong, I am no slouch either, yoga, kick boxing, weights, hiking. I work at it, dammit! Yet, despite my own routine, jars still give me a hard time.

I decided to step it up a bit, broom in hand, I called out to him.

“Babe, can you pull the fridge out so I can sweep behind it”

He lets out a quiet sigh as he pulls himself from the T.V and into the kitchen, without taking his eyes of the screen he takes a hold of the sides and gives it a pull. The legs screech across the floor as he effortlessly pulls the unit away from the wall without so much as a grunt or heave. He rests an elbow against it and rests his head on a curled fist watching the game while I pretended to sweep. Then just as easily as he had pulled it out he slides it right back into place. He takes his eyes off the screen for a quick second to look down and smile at me bending low to kiss me once before returning to his football.

Now I know what you’re thinking, Fridges are light and have wheels they are not hard to move. Not this one, this was an antique Kingsford ice box built in the 50s out of iron and grit and this was probably the first time it had been moved in years.

You see, it wasn’t so much the fact he could move big heavy things that interested me, sure that was a big part of it all, but it was more the ease of which he could move big heavy things. He made it look so easy, like it was just normal to be able to lift a couch-bed that took three men and a dolly to move. It was the way that everything just appeared smaller in his hands, it was an amazing juxtaposition seeing the effort he put into restraining himself, holding back and minding his strength, being subconsciously aware of his size and how he has to navigate the tight corners and enclosed spaces of the world. I would admire the way he would drink his coffee out of a mason jar because “It just fits in my hand so much better”, It was comical.

I was completely enjoying myself, I began to imagine him as a wild animal and I was the curious zoology major studying him while out on safari. I would sneak the occasional photo from time to time, capturing the moments when he looked most in his element, all while rehearsing a monologue from a nature documentary.

“Hey, I bet you can’t snap that branch in half” I challenged him one day as he was cleaning up the yard.

“This one?”

He took the large branch in one hand and swung it around like a toy sword, I could have probably picked it and carried it if I used all my strength. He takes it in both hands and gives it a once-over, tightening his grip and rolling it in his hands a few times before bringing it down over his thigh with a loud SNAP. He held the two halves and inspected them for a second before tossing them aside. He gave me a look of satisfaction, cocked an eyebrow and gave a smirk, smug bastard.

These experiments extended into the bedroom as well (why wouldn’t they), I quickly learned just how much he was holding back on a daily basis. While having him “go all out” “really give it to me” and “don’t hold back” was really hot and intense in the moment I certainly paid for it the following morning. My hips hurt, my cervix throbbed, my butt was bruised and tender, I kept discovering small bruises from where his hands clenched around me as he throttled me.

My back was sore from when he pinned me to the wall and fucked me suspended in mid-air, his cock buried deep inside of me under my weight. He tossed me, TOSSED, me onto the bed, I felt like rag-doll and I loved it. The way he could just pick me up and move my body effortlessly, how at any moment I was completely surrounded by him. The way his hands would wrap around my waist as he penetrated me in all sort of ways, those same hands would then wrap around my neck entirely and in the throws of passion would begin to squeeze tightly, like a helpless bunny in the death grips of a python, I could feel his muscles contract slowly as he squeezed harder and harder then just as I started to fade out he would release, giving me a brief moment to breathe before he started to squeeze again. He liked doing that, I could feel his cock pulse and engorge inside of me as he watched my eyes glaze over and the color slowly fade from my cheeks and then suddenly spring back once he relaxed his grip.

It was terrifying, dangerous, and sexy as fuck!

He bent me over the bed, one hand pressed against my back pinning me once again as he slowly licked my body up and down, biting into my neck, leaving his mark. Visions of vicious lions taking down prey danced in my mind as I felt his turgid cock throbbing against the small of my back. He buries his face into my nape and takes a deep inhale as he moves his hips and positions his cock against my clit then slowly sliding himself inside of me, filling me completely, my pussy wrapped around every inch of him as he slowly slid in and out of me.

He anchored his feet firmly into the ground, his hands clenched over my shoulders and with a sudden and firm thrust he plunged deep inside. The sudden thrust sent sparks up my back, he paused briefly to capture my response, it hurt, but in an amazing way. There was something about feeling his unhinged desire that got me off. My body melted as I felt the entirety of that initial thrust wash over me, then with no warning a second thrust just as firm and rigid filled me once again. I felt that same jolt as his pelvis smacked against my ass, his cock fully penetrating me again and again. Each thrust just as enthusiastic as the last getting faster and faster slamming into my tiny body, resonating within me from top to bottom. I could feel his balls slapping against my clit with every thrust making me exponentially wet.

I struggled to catch my breath but every thrust felt like a freight train that knocked the wind out of me, I could hear him grunt with every thrust of his hips, music to my ears. He grabs me by the hips and pulls me in with long powerful strokes each one giving off a satisfying smack that lingered in the air.

His hands wrapped around me and I was air-borne once again, bent over in his arms he held me aloft firmly and continued to fuck me.

I felt like a toy

I felt like HIS personal sex toy.

It was a clarifying moment for me when I realized that I sure was glad that he wasn’t actually a wild animal, had he been a lion, a tiger or bear, oh my would I have been in trouble.

He flipped me over, still mid-air and wrapped my arms around his neck, he slid his cock into me again. This new angle fully allowing the entirety of his cock to penetrate me, I could feel it punching against my cervix with every thrust and despite the pain that came along with it it felt amazing!

It was the look in his eyes as he continued to ravish me that really drove me crazy, their usual quiet softness had been replaced with that of an unhinged and relentless animal that had hunted down its prey and was now devouring it in a blind rage, oblivious to the world around him and completely focused on satiating its hunger. I came more times than I can remember, the thought of being his prey got me off like nothing else ever had, the sensation of being so tiny in his arms made me feel completely dominated by him.

I felt his body tense up, his cock once again throbbed and engorged…

“I can’t hold back anymore…I have to cum” he said through clenched teeth and labored breathing. I could feel his cock throb again as he continued to pump away, his strokes becoming slowed and focused.

“YES! Come! Come for me” the words left my mouth before I could even think of them.

“fuck! Fuck! FUCK! Holy SHIT!…”

With a final thrust his entire body seized and tightened, his fingers dug deep into my hips and his teeth deep into my neck. I held on tight as my body spasmed against his form, feeling his hot cum filling me completely. His cock pulsed hard as he came again and again pumping his load deep inside filling me until I was over-flowing.

I hovered there in mid air still impaled by his pulsating rod, he breathed heavily as he tried to catch his breath, his head now buried in my chest I held his head, gently stroking his nape. I felt his muscles relax all around me as he lowered me back onto the bed, he hovered over me for a second his arms and chest still rippling from the exertion. That soft and gentle look had returned to his eyes, he gave me a smile and a chuckle before collapsing on top of me from exhaustion. The dead weight of his body bearing down was enough to knock the wind out of me.

As I laid helplessly under two-hundred and sixty pounds of living, breathing muscle I couldn’t help but fantasize about the wild caged animal that currently lay at rest. How at any moment I could be at the mercy of an unrelenting, unyielding, determined and overpowering beast of a man.

Yet, here he rests, soundly in my arms.

Vic Sharp is a switch living in San Diego. You can learn more about him here.

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