Town and Country - 1. The Dearling

The rustling from the wood’s edge caught my attention. The dusk obscured its cause, I felt as much as saw a presence. Not twenty feet away from me on the cabin’s porch, he emerged, caution evident in every step. He scanned the clearing ready to spring back into the safety of the forest. I remained motionless, fearful that I would frighten this beautiful creature away. He must have sensed no danger for he ventured right up to the porch. It was only then that he spotted me. He froze, staring at me with soft, brown eyes. Curiosity seemed to overcome caution as he put a foot onto the step. I came to my feet slowly, stepping out of the shadow into the lowering light of the evening, trying to express that I posed no danger. I smiled. His eyes met mine and he returned the smile. He accepted my touch as I stroked the tawny hair covering his head, pushing against my hand. His fear was gone. A sound caught his attention, a rustling from the same spot from which he emerged. His eyes met mine for a moment before he bounded off in the direction from which the sound had come. He paused on the verge to glance back at me then was gone.

Two days passed before I saw him again. This time he showed no hesitation, but bounded up and onto the porch, initially nuzzling my hand, then moving closer to place small kisses on my neck. I was beyond charmed by the attention. I had remained seated, his approach so quick I had not time to rise. He came closer, resting his head in my lap. I would be embarrassed to admit my growing erection, but that was clearly the object of his continued nudging. He looked up from my lap seeking permission but didn't wait for my response. He greedily exposed my cock, wolfing it down his throat, proceeding to suck. This was not gentle fellatio, rather desperation for my cum. Only a few minutes of this aggressive assault brought the intended result, a flood of my essence. He swallowed all he could then lapped up what had escaped. His eyes were filled with accomplishment. He gently licked my cock head, then fled back into the forrest.

I was overcome. Our first meeting had been sweet, innocent. The second was fraught with mystery. Who was this young male from the forest? He made no sound. Was he capable of speaking? Was he a wilding, homeless and living in the wood? He moved through the forest with the lightness and quickness of a deer. Was he alone? This I doubted from his very capable handling of my cock. I was both frightened of my forest sprite and eager to be with him again.

I came to this lonely place to seek refuge and silence. It was my hope that from the silence, my muse would return and I could write again. The several weeks prior to the arrival of my mysterious friend were empty, no inspiration surfaced. On his arrival, my curiosity was stimulated and I found words again. The stealthy sound of my writing could have been heard through the night had anyone been near enough to hear.

At dusk each night, I waited on the porch, homing for the return of my wild friend, my dearling. Some evenings he would appear at the edge of the wood for a moment, then disaapear, responding to a call I could not hear, a signal I could not sense. On what I came to consider my fortunate evenings, he would replay his desire for my orgasm. I quickly overcame any shock, craving his sometimes soft, sometimes needy attentions. He accepted only gentle strokes along his head, shoulders, back and flanks. I urged him to come inside the cabin with me, but he bridled at the open door, content only to be with me on the porch. Sometimes he would fondle and cuddle my cock and balls after inducing orgasm, other times he would immediately flee as he had the first night.

I craved a closer connection. He clearly heard and understood my words, but offered no verbal response, making his affection of me clear through his oral attentions, gestures and looks upon his lovely face. I could only hope that his growing familiarity would continue.

I was eager to promote the connection and thought to express my eagerness for his attentions. I waited for his arrival as naked as was he, standing at the front of the porch. After two disappointing nights, I again heard the familiar rustle, he was near. I stepped from the porch into the light of a strong moon, exposing my emotions as much as my body. He approached, playfully, almost slyly, grinning as he circled me. He approached me with kisses and touches. My lust sprang up. He touched my cock, then turned, presenting his rump invitingly.

On entering him, I knew this was not a new experience for him, he responded hungrily, demanding all the power I could muster. The sensations I felt were exquisite, driving me to the edge of my control several times before I succumbed and released myself into him. I staggered, totally emptied. He guided me into the cabin and setled me onto the bed. His eyes roved wildly around the room, seeking an exit. Overcoming his evident fear of the closed space, though the door remained wide open, he lay with me on the bed. I enveloped him with my arms, holding him to my chest. Contentment and exhaustion overtook me. My next realization was the rising sun coming through the still open door, falling upon the bed I occupied alone.

Following this intimacy, I was compelled to know who this creature was. I resolved to follow him, should he come again, knowing that I would have to overcome the affects of his sexual attentions. I purposely rested each afternoon, waiting for the time he would come again.

After a gap of several days, he came again. Gone were all the coquetish ploys. He boldly approached, fondling me to full erection, then kneeling, presenting the gift of his ass. My plans for caution were thrown to the winds as I engaged with him, my need rising to meet his. We coupled, intent on each other's pleasure, coming to quickly to climax. I held him to me, still fully inserted, caressing him.

He began to wriggle playfully beneath me, pulling free of my embrace. A quick kiss on my cheek and he was gone. I pulled myself together, not giving in to the revelry of the pleasure I had just experienced, but leapt to my feet and chased after him. He was swift, moving along known ways through the forest, but I was able to follow, my senses elevated by the lovemaking.

Just ahead of me the gloom of the forest lessened, the light coming from a clearing. I heard them before I saw them. I stopped at the edge of the clearing, an amazing sight before me. There gamboling and dancing, were many of his kind. In their midst clearly was the object of their performance. There regally stood a magnificent creature, his chest broad, his presence commanding. I was awed. What were clearly his tribe sought his attention, each one offering themselves for his pleasure. He feigned inattention, appearing to look past his tempters, but his enormous erect phallus gave lie to this pretense. He reached out for one of the dancers, pulling him roughly to his chest, stroking his prize, teasing him with mock copulation, then sending him on his way. Another was so teased.

My fascination ended when my own dearling came into his reach. My heart rose into my heart. I could not allow this, this my own creature to be taken. I broke from my hiding place, rushing into the clearing, confronting the buck. Face to face, I knew I was no match for this creature, yet I stood my ground. The once-dancing crowd retreated behind thier master, watching intently, fearfully. He surveyed me, perhaps judging how much of a threat I posed.

In a flash, he was upon me, throwing me to the ground, slamming his full weight onto my prostrate body. I knew he was fully capable of killing me. He reared back to strike, but paused. His face communicated layers of meaning, anger that I had intruded on his tribe, frustration that I had interupted his pleasure, respect that I had confronted him, and sadness.

Why sadness? His power and authority was absolute, he was at the pinacle of existence. I believe that sadness was an awareness that one day, perhaps not for a long time, but one day, he would face an opponent not so easily subdued, one that would take away the worshiping lovers and leave him vanquished and alone.

He sighed deeply, then relaxed his assault of me, rising and returning to his harem. My dearling skirted past him, rushing to my side, helping me to rise. He guided me back to my cabin, drawing me by the hand to the bed. He eased my pain with affectionate touches, bringing me to orgasm and sleep.

On waking, I felt him at my side, leaving me in amazement. I clung to him, showering him with the affection I had felt from our first meeting. And so it went for several days. Sweet love making and affection. My heart soared, I was content and fulfilled.

One fine morning, as lounged in the sun in front of the cabin, they appeared. The master led his harem into the clearing and stood before me. His eyes raked over me, assessing his rival once again. With only a nod, he called my dearling who fled from me to his side, offering me only a soulful look of regret. The buck took his own back. They all followed him into the wood and I was alone.

I knew I would not see my dearling again. I left the cabin the next day, returning to my world. I was deeply saddened to no longer have this creature in my life. I came to understand with the wisdom of years that my time in the wood with him was fleeting, that it was not for a lifetime. I also knew that I would carry him in my heart always.

***

Many years later I returned to the cabin. I suppose to relive that magical time in my mind, to keep the recollection fresh. In tribute to those memories, I again stripped away the outside world along with my clothing and stood upon the porch, looking at that place where he always appeared. I thought I heard a faint rustling, dismissing the possibility as an illusion of the heart.

But then, a magnificent creature stepped proudly forward. A moment later, his tribe came out, crowding around him. I stared in admiring wonder for several minutes, slowly coming to realize this was not the same leader. No, his movements and gestures were familiar. This magnificent creature must be my own dearling, come of age and power.

He acknowledged me with a nod, then proudly turned and led his tribe back into the forest. I stood amazed, beyond happy to have seen him again, reliving our every moment together. A rustle at the edge of the forest interupted my revery. A slight but beautiful creature emerged. Cautiously he approach me, offering his head to be stroked, nuzzling my neck with sweet kisses. The one I had loved had presented me a gift, this dearling.