Instead his hands push my ass wider, stretching me open, exposing me to his cock, rubbing hungry at my cunt and seemingly wanting to turn me inside out.

Our bodies knot in union, his cock captured and enraptured inside me, my woodsman deep inside my enchanted forest, he can never leave, as invisible tendrils and Ivy-like bindings wrap around and tie him inside me.

His fingers fan over my cheeks and his thumbs press into the tiny tight pucker of my ass. His hands squeeze against me as he draws me onto his cock, gripping my ass, pressing both thumbs against the rim of my pucker as if determined to peel me open as he guides me back and forth over his rigid shaft.

I reach down beneath and between my juice smothered thighs to flick my fingers against my clit, crying out as his hands persist in spreading me open, exposing my tiny tight ass to the air and light.

He draws me forward until his cock head is exposed, wedged between my swollen labial lips, his thumbs prizing my ass open, threatening to slip himself away and seize my anal prize.

He hesitates, his hungry eyes surveying my open choices, our minds combined, communicating unspoken, knowing from the hidden scripture of our dreams that the keys of Hierophant serve two locks.

My cunt squeezes with wanting him deep inside me, and finally he gives way to the invisible silk knot that binds us, slowly sliding long and deep, all the way back home inside me.

Our groan is as long and thick and as tight as his cock inside me. He opens me up and my fingers thrash against my tingling clit.

His stroke is even and certain, rigid and relentless and as his work worn hands continue to prize me open, guiding me over his massive shaft, my fingers finally ignite the tinder of my erotica.

I come alive, burning passions aflame with forest fires as my fantasies flood around his slow powered and plundering punishment, and I begin to buckle with orgasm.

He speaks to me as I come, encouraging me, praising me, but his words are just a jumble of noise. The mechanism inside my mind that makes meaning of coherent sound is suddenly broken and in its place is a tightly gripped fist of blind, stupid bliss. Letting go, I come and come again, then a third, each shock wave of pleasure greater than the last.

I succumb to multiples I never thought I’d find rippling through me, filling the air with the musk and music of my climax.

Words finally fail him too, and he comes grunting against my contractions, forcing his way through them, past them, then hilting himself against my spasming flesh, as he erupts inside me with rasping and jagged exhalations and fills me with his spunk.

“Fuck you’re so good, so fucking good, so good and so raw” he cries out his blessings into the air, stroking his spunky cock deep inside me with every cry, until finally coming to a rest, in-canting whispers, his climax still caught in his breath.