Wood Nymph 2

 

It was a warm Indian summer day, but it was Elk season. You were following a big buck, when you smelled Marajuana. You frowned as you feared a high hunter might be near, which you felt was needlessly dangerous. You continued cautiously on, wiping sweat from your brow. 

Soon you came around a bend, to a slight clearing. There you found the source of the Marajuana smell. There was no hunter. It was a young woman. You quickly forgot about the elk you were following; this young brunette was buck naked, drunk as a skunk, and flying higher than an eagle. Sitting and swaying on a log, she looked like a sexy wood nymph. 

Above her, you noticed a no hunting sign. Normally you would be disappointed. However, looking upon the wood nymph, was very exciting, and arousing you realized, your cock hard within your jeans. You stood in a trance, unsure what exactly to do. Soon she solved that for you, when she looked upon you with bloodshot eyes.

“Hello. I'm Hyllisei, I own thiss lann.  Yoo canned hunn herr,” she slurs. 

“Yes, I see the sign. Beautiful Hyllisei, Im Hunter,” you gave her a fake name. “There's nothing I can do to get you to change your mind, is there?,” you ask.

“Welll, yoo arr sexssy.  Ann I'm zzzrunk ann high. Whish means Im horney.  Sooo maybe wee c'n worg somethin' oud,” she tells you.

“I like the way you think,” you tell her. 

“Gooond.  I thing won uhf us over zzressed donn yoo?” she asks you. 

“Easily rectified,'' you tell her, as you lean your rifle against a tree, and take off your orange shirt, followed by your boots, jeans and underwear.

“Oh, nish dick.  Juzz lemme finish my joinn ann i'll suck yoo,” she told you as she took another toke. You were happy to wait.

The warm air clung to your skin as you stood naked in the clearing, the scent of marijuana mixing with the earthy musk of the forest. Hyllisei's bloodshot eyes roamed over you, a lazy grin spreading across her face as she exhaled a plume of smoke. She patted the log beside her, inviting you closer, her movements slow and languid, like a cat stretching in the sun.

"C'mere, Hunter," she purred, her voice thick with intoxication. "Let's see wha' we can do 'bout that... situation of yours."

You stepped forward, the grass soft under your bare feet, your pulse quickening as you closed the distance. The no-hunting sign creaked faintly in the breeze above, but the only hunt on your mind now was the one unfolding before you. Hyllisei took a final drag from her joint, flicking the roach into the dirt before sliding off the log to her knees, her gaze locked on your hardening cock.

"Promised you a good time, didn' I?" she mumbled, her hands reaching out, fingers grazing your thighs with a teasing lightness. Her touch was warm, slightly clumsy, but deliberate enough to send a jolt through you. She leaned forward, her breath hot against your skin, and you felt the first flick of her tongue, tentative at first, then bolder, as she took you into her mouth.

A low groan escaped you, your hands instinctively finding her hair, tangling in the dark, messy strands. The forest seemed to fade away—the rustling leaves, the distant bird calls—all drowned out by the wet, rhythmic sounds of her lips working you. She was sloppy, uninhibited, her enthusiasm fueled by the haze of her high, and it drove you wild. You tilted your head back, the sun filtering through the canopy above, warming your face as Hyllisei’s tongue swirled and teased.

"Fuck, you're good at that," you murmured, your voice rough with need.

She pulled back just enough to flash you a wicked, lopsided grin, her lips glistening. "Told ya I was horny," she slurred, before diving back in, her hands gripping your hips for balance. The world narrowed to the heat of her mouth, the soft moans she let out as she worked, and the growing tension coiling in your core.

You glanced down, catching the way her body swayed slightly, her bare skin dappled with sunlight. Her curves were soft, inviting, and the sight of her kneeling before you, so unapologetically wild, pushed you closer to the edge. But you weren’t ready to let this end too soon. Gently, you tugged her hair, pulling her back.

"Easy, nymph," you said, voice low and teasing. "Wanna make this last."

Hyllisei licked her lips, her eyes glassy but mischievous. "Oh, you think you’re in charge now?" she challenged, stumbling to her feet, her hands trailing up your chest. She pressed herself against you, her breasts soft against your skin, her lips brushing your ear. "I own this land, ‘member? My rules."

You chuckled, your hands sliding down to grip her hips, pulling her closer. "Then tell me the rules, Hyllisei."

She giggled, swaying slightly, her fingers tracing lazy circles on your chest. "Rule one... we don’ stop till I say so." She leaned in, her lips grazing yours, tasting of smoke and something sweeter, wilder. "Think you can handle that, hunter?"

You didn’t answer with words. Instead, you kissed her hard, tasting the marijuana on her tongue, feeling her melt into you as the forest stood witness to your reckless, heated dance.

When you broke the kiss, she told you, come on, my cabin is over this way. You followed, watching her nude body stumble and stagger through the woods.

The forest path was narrow, dappled with sunlight filtering through the dense canopy, as Hyllisei led you toward her cabin. Her naked form moved with a drunken grace, hips swaying, her bare feet padding softly against the earth. She glanced back at you, her bloodshot eyes glinting with mischief, a teasing smirk playing on her lips as she caught you staring. "Keep up, Hunter," she slurred, her voice a sultry mix of invitation and challenge.

You followed close, your own arousal pulsing with every step, the forest air warm against you. The scent of pine and marijuana lingered, mingling with the raw, earthy heat radiating from her. She stumbled slightly, giggling as she caught herself against a tree, her fingers lingering on the bark before she pushed off and continued. The sight of her—wild, uninhibited, and utterly shameless—stoked the fire in your veins.

After a short trek, the trees parted to reveal a small, weathered cabin nestled in a clearing. Its wooden walls were moss-streaked, the roof sagging slightly, but it had a rugged charm, like Hyllisei herself. A string of fairy lights hung crookedly along the porch, flickering faintly in the daylight. She sauntered up the steps, her hips rolling deliberately as she glanced over her shoulder. "Welcome to my castle," she said, her words slurring into a playful drawl.

You stepped onto the porch behind her, the wood creaking underfoot. She pushed open the door, revealing a cozy, cluttered interior. The air inside was thick with the scent of weed and incense, a haze of smoke curling lazily toward the ceiling. A worn couch sat against one wall, draped with colorful blankets, and a small table held an ashtray overflowing with roaches. The place felt like an extension of her—wild, unpolished, and intoxicating.

Hyllisei turned to you, her body swaying as she closed the distance, her hands finding your shoulders. "So, Hunter," she murmured, her lips brushing your jaw, "you ready for my rules?" Her fingers trailed down your chest, slow and teasing, igniting sparks wherever they touched.

You grinned, catching her wrists gently, holding her gaze. "Lay 'em on me, nymph."

She laughed, a low, throaty sound, and leaned in, her lips hovering just shy of yours. "Rule two," she whispered, her breath hot against your skin, "you gotta make me scream before I pass out,” she told you, opening a bottle of liquor and taking a swig. Her eyes sparkled with challenge, and before you could respond, she pulled free and stumbled toward the couch, collapsing onto it with a dramatic flourish. She spread her legs slightly, one hand lazily trailing down her stomach, her gaze locked on you. "C'mon, big guy. Show me what you got."

You didn’t need more invitation than that. Crossing the room in two strides, you knelt before her, your hands sliding up her thighs, feeling the warmth of her skin. She let out a soft, needy moan as your fingers explored, her head tipping back against the couch. The haze in the air, the heat of her body, the way she arched into your touch—it all blurred into a primal rhythm. You leaned in, kissing the inside of her thigh, tasting the salt of her skin as she shivered under you.

"Fuck, Hunter," she slurred, her fingers tangling in your hair, guiding you closer. "Don’t tease me."

Teasing was half the fun. You took your time, kissing and nipping along her thigh, drawing out gasps and curses until she was squirming, her breaths short and desperate. 

“More,” she demanded, her voice slurring as she reached for the whiskey again, taking another sloppy swig. The bottle tilted, spilling a trail of liquor down her chest, glistening on her skin. You followed the path with your tongue, tasting the sharp bite of whiskey mixed with her sweat, her body trembling under your touch. She giggled, high and drunk, her free hand fumbling to light another joint, the flame wobbling as she struggled to focus.

“Goddamn, you’re gonna kill me,” she slurred, her words barely coherent as she exhaled a thick plume of smoke. Her eyes were half-lidded, her body loose and pliant, teetering on the edge of oblivion. “Keep goin’, Hunter. Make me scream.”

You doubled your efforts, your hands gripping her hips as you worked her with relentless precision, her moans growing louder, more desperate. The cabin filled with the sounds of her pleasure, the creak of the couch, the faint crackle of the joint burning in her hand. She took another swig of whiskey, spilling more, her laughter mixing with gasps as she sank deeper into her intoxicated haze.

“Fuck, yes,” she panted, her voice breaking as her body tensed, her thighs clamping around you. The joint fell from her fingers to an ashtray, smoldering as she arched off the couch, her scream tearing through the cabin, raw and wild, just as she’d promised. Her body shuddered, her hands clawing at you, pulling you up to kiss her, her lips sloppy and desperate, tasting of weed and whiskey.

She collapsed back, giggling, her eyes barely open. “Told ya... my rules,” she mumbled, reaching for the bottle again, her movements sluggish. “Now... your turn, hunter.” She grinned, her words fading as she took another swig, the liquor dripping down her chin, her body swaying on the edge of passing out.

You weren’t done yet. The day was young, and Hyllisei’s rules were the only law in this wild, smoky cabin.

The cabin was a haze of smoke and desire, the air thick with the mingled scents of marijuana, whiskey, and sweat. Hyllisei sprawled across the couch, her body limp but still electric, her chest rising and falling with heavy, uneven breaths. The spilled whiskey glistened on her skin, catching the dim light from the fairy lights strung along the ceiling. Her bloodshot eyes fluttered, struggling to stay open as she clutched the bottle, her lips curling into a dazed, mischievous smile.

“You’re... not done, are ya, Hunter?” she slurred, her voice barely above a whisper, thick with the weight of her intoxication. She lifted the joint from the ashtray, her fingers fumbling as she relit it, the flame casting fleeting shadows across her face. She took a long, slow drag, holding the smoke in her lungs before exhaling it toward you, the cloud curling around your face like a teasing caress. “C’mon... keep going.”

You smirked, “Oh, I’m just gettin’ started, nymph,” you said, your voice low and rough. You leaned over her, your hands sliding up her sides, fingers tracing the curves of her hips as you pressed yourself against her. Her skin was fever-hot, slick with sweat and liquor, and she shivered under your touch, her giggle dissolving into a soft moan.

“Gooood,” she mumbled, her head lolling back as she took another swig from the bottle, some of it spilling down her neck and pooling in the hollow of her collarbone. She offered you the joint, her fingers brushing yours, deliberate and teasing despite her drunken haze. “Hit this... it’s my special blend,” she said, her words slurring into a giggle. “It’ll make ya feel... *wild*.”

You took the joint, held it briefly in your hands, but didn't take a hit. You exhaled, leaning down to kiss the whiskey from her neck, your tongue tracing the sticky trail as she squirmed beneath you, her hands fumbling to grip your shoulders, and returned the joint to her lips.

“Fuck, you’re... too good at this,” she slurred, her voice breaking as your lips moved lower, grazing the swell of her breasts. She arched into you, her body greedy for more, even as her movements grew sloppier, her coordination fraying under the weight of the liquor and weed. She grabbed the bottle again, tilting it to her lips, but you caught her wrist, guiding it to pour a slow trickle of whiskey over her chest instead.

“Oops,” you teased, your voice a low growl as you licked the liquor from her skin, the sharp bite mixing with the salt of her sweat. Her moans grew louder, more desperate, her hips shifting restlessly against the couch.

You took the roach from her lips, and put it out among its friends. Then you pulled your cock out. You thrust into her. She moaned in pleasure. In and out you thrust. 

“Don’t... stop,” she panted, her eyes half-closed, her hand reaching for another joint from the table. She lit it with trembling fingers, the match flaring briefly before she tossed it aside, uncaring where it landed. She took a deep drag, the smoke spilling from her lips as she pulled you closer, her free hand tangling in your hair. “Wanna feel you... all of you,” she slurred, her voice thick with need.

You didn’t hesitate. You slammed into her, then pulled out slow and deliberate, drawing a ragged gasp from her lips. The heat of her enveloped you, her body yielding yet hungry, her nails digging into your back as she rocked against you. The joint dangled from her fingers, forgotten for a moment as she lost herself in the rhythm, her moans filling the cabin, raw and unfiltered.

“Harder,” she demanded, her voice breaking as she took another hit, the smoke curling around you both. She was slipping deeper into her haze, her movements erratic, her words slurring into incoherent pleas. You obliged, your pace quickening, the couch creaking beneath you as the world narrowed to the slick heat of her body, the burn of the whiskey on your tongue, and the dizzying rush of the smoke in your lungs.

Hyllisei’s head tipped back, her scream tearing through the cabin again, louder this time, her body trembling as she teetered on the edge of oblivion. The bottle slipped from her hand, clattering to the floor, spilling whiskey across the worn wood. She didn’t care, too lost in the waves of pleasure crashing through her, her hands clawing at you, urging you on.

“Fuck, Hunter... don’t stop,” she gasped, her voice barely audible now, her eyes fluttering shut as the intoxication pulled her under. She was a mess of sensation—drunk, high, and utterly untamed—and you were right there with her, chasing the same wild, reckless high. As you shot your load into her, she told you, “You can hunt her, hunter.”