Dark Fantasies

by T West

  When he was done, the glass was almost half-full. “He’s got quite a lot there,” offered Elizabeth.

  “Erm, yeah,” said Victoria, unsure what the point of making conversation at this point was.

  The yeti glanced to his left at Christopher Johnson, who was trembling in fear. He walked over to the man, who in any other circumstance would have been burly and big, but whose frame now paled in comparison to that of the beast. The two women looked on, Victoria shocked, not knowing what was going to happen. Elizabeth bemused, and almost enjoying what was unfolding.

  “Hey buddy, what the hell are you doing?” asked Christopher, as the yeti tore his jeans off with one fell swoop. The tattered rags that were once his jeans lay at his feet, as Christopher Johnson’s white boxer-briefs were exposed to the two females. His boxer-briefs soon suffered the same fate, for they too were torn off with one firm grab.

  Christopher Johnson’s 7 inch winkie sprung up like a firm diving board. Erect, frustrated, embarrassed. He glanced to his left at Elizabeth. “Huh, and you thought I wasn’t that big. I’m above average y’know,” he said defensively.

  “Ok, not so bad then,” said Elizabeth. Victoria couldn’t believe she was hearing this conversation going on over her in such unusual circumstances.

  The yeti placed the glass beneath Christopher Johnson’s frustrated bell-end as his foreskin contracted on its own. Victoria glanced down and could see that his shaved balls looked extremely full. The yeti began to milk Christopher Johnson’s knob similarly to how he had milked the two women’s breasts, like a cow’s horizontal udder. Through his un-asked-for waves of pleasure, Christopher said, “Hey it’s not the same kind of milk you got from those two. I don’t know what you’re thinking but it’s a completely different kind of milk.”

  Remarkably, the yeti stopped his hand-motions, and seemed to understand, releasing his grip from the terrified man’s straining shaft. The beast looked over at the two women, as if for confirmation, his brow raised inquisitively.

  “Yes, that’s true,” said Elizabeth. “It’s a different kind of milk.”

  Victoria nodded, and couldn't believe she was having this conversation. “Yeah, that’s right. It’s definitely not the same kind of milk.”

  The yeti grunted and nodded his head. He took the glass away from Christopher Johnson’s penis, and Victoria heard an echo from the depths of the cave corridor. It was a growl similar to the yeti’s, although much higher in pitch, softer, younger.

  “He just wants to feed his young, that all,” said Elizabeth.

  “Are you serious?” asked Victoria.

  “Yes, you see I don’t think there’s a Mrs Bigfoot anywhere around. Not sure what happened to her, but he’s a single dad. He just needs a bit of milk for his youngster. I think his youngster’s about 18 years old. They go on breastfeeding till quite late.”

  Oh right, that’s not so bad, thought Victoria.

  “What the hell. This is weird,” said Christopher Johnson.

  The yeti turned around and plodded off down through the cave corridor, crouching down as he walked so as not to bang his big head on the craggy ceiling. He returned a few minutes later without the glass, and seemed happy with the women. He pulled down his tight spandex cycling shorts, allowing his 15 inch yeti-dick to dangle freely. It sprung up enthusiastically, and both women’s jaws dropped as their eyes widened, speechless for a moment.

  “I bet now you’re feeling a bit inadequate, aren’t you Christopher?” joked Elizabeth.

  Christopher’s eyes widened too, and his cheeks began to blush again. The yeti stepped forward and broke the chains holding the two women, setting them free. They both dropped to their knees, tired but relieved, rubbing their wrists. The beast stood before the cave doorway, and the women knew that they couldn’t pass just yet. They knew what was expected of them.

  They crawled over to the yeti on their hands and knees like a couple of eager college chicks. Elizabeth’s eyes now more sharp, more alert and more with it as she gripped the enormous shaft of the beast. The beast emitted another deep growl, this time in a pleasurable tone, as his huge ball-bags swung beneath him menacingly. Victoria saw this as her cue to cup them intently, fondling each one in turn as she nestled her face between his hairy thighs.

  Elizabeth opened her mouth as wide as possible, as she allowed as much of the yeti-bell-end into her lips as she could. Unable to take all of it, she did as best as she could, suckling on the pulsating helmet with the intensity of a baby lamb to its mother’s teat. Christopher Johnson watched on, erect and frustrated, unable to touch himself.

  Victoria gripped the mighty girth in her hand, and unable to reach all the way around it she used both hands to jack the humungous tool, rubbing up and down the full 15 inch length, into Elizabeth’s puckered mouth. Elizabeth’s tongue lapped over the giant eye at the end, and the beast reached down and stroked both of them on the top of the head, lovingly, as his balls tightened.

  Victoria ducked back down to the mighty nuts, as did Elizabeth, as they took one ball in their mouth each, sucking energetically, the huge testicles tea-bagging their mouths. They both murmured pleasurable sighs into their respective mouthfuls of nut, as the enormous 15 incher bobbed about freely in-between them, glistening in the candlelight.

  With his balls fully wet, the women turned their attention back to his shaft, and sucked on either side of it, running their hot mouths and full lips up and down the wide girth. Their full breasts met underneath the huge member, their lactating nipples brushing against each other inadvertently, spraying droplets of milk on each other’s heaving bosoms. They worked their hot mouths all the way to the end, where they simultaneously sucked on the straining mushroom-head, it being big enough for both of them to fit their lips on it at the same time.

  The beast groaned again, and the girls saw this as their cue to finish the job, Elizabeth staying at her rightful place on the bell-end, as her lips sucked tentatively. Victoria went back to gently squeezing the full nuts, whilst nibbling helpfully on the rippling beast-shaft. She took her lips off the shaft to jack the tool once more, and as she jacked it purposefully into Elizabeth’s awaiting mouth, she felt the huge hairy balls tighten further.

  The beast let out a huge sigh of relief, as he ejaculated a hot, thick, creamy rope of yeti-jizz right into Elizabeth’s open mouth and onto her out-stretched tongue. Much of it overflowed and ran down her chin, splashing onto her erect nipples beneath. She managed to keep a good mouthful of the voluminous load, and Christopher watched on in disbelief as he was about to witness some snowballing action of epic proportions.

  Victoria got on her back and opened her mouth wide, as Elizabeth snowballed a big gob of monster-spunk right into her mouth. Victoria sat up and gargled intently, before blowing a spunk-bubble as big as 10 Hubba Bubbas. Elizabeth responded in kind by lying on her back and opening her mouth, allowing Victoria to spit the snowball of ectoplasm back into Elizabeth’s mouth, who sat up, smiled sweetly, and took one big gulp.

  The yeti’s huge member shriveled back to its flaccid 8 inch length, and Elizabeth looked over at the still-chained and blushing Christopher Johnson. “Still bigger than you, Chrissie-Boy!”

  The beast walked over to Christopher and broke his chains, and no sooner was he free than the young man ran off down the hallway yelling, “That was hot, but I’m out of here!”

  The girls watched his taut buttocks disappear down the dingy corridor. They got to their feet and hugged the yeti, their breasts pressing against his hairy abs. “You’re not so bad after all,” said Victoria, as she smiled up at him cheekily.

  The yeti hugged them back, his big muscular arms enveloping them both as he squeezed them tightly.

  “I hope you got enough to feed your young,” said Elizabeth. The yeti growled pleasantly and nodded his head.

  The two women pulled up their tops, covering up their lactating bosoms, as their nipples pressed against the thin cotton. They bid the yeti farewell as they headed out, down th
e cave and through the corridor, the yeti waving them off comfortingly.

  Even though it was dark, Victoria no longer felt scared, for she had Elizabeth by her side, and as the two made their way back through the woods, Victoria knew that the threat that had haunted her earlier that evening was a threat no more. Not only had her heaving bosoms been relieved, but so had the yeti’s straining ball-sacks.

  Tomorrow she would return home, but tonight she would sleep cozily in the bed & breakfast. She would sleep soundly and content.

  ~~~###~~~

  Steamy Erotica Story 36

  I t was just another typical day lurking in the woods for Bernard Lord. Or so he thought.

  Being an experienced flasher, he had already sought out his prey. A group of college girls sat by a big oak tree, innocently enjoying a picnic. Their attractive features, long flowing hair and fashionable clothes made Bernard Lord’s eyes sparkle as his questionable intent began to surface, as he lurked behind a nearby birch tree. Crouching down, dressed just in his over-sized dirty trench-coat and big Dr Martin boots, Bernard Lord smiled in a ghastly manner as he leered through the dense forest.

  “And like, I’m just not sure if I should date him,” said Rebecca Chambers to her friends, as she sipped her spring water.

  “Oh, you should! He’s so cute,” said caramel-colored Simone Johnson.

  An ominous shadow appeared on the picnic blanket before them. The girls turned their heads, looking up, startled. There before them was Bernard Lord, who didn’t waste time exchanging pleasantries. He opened his dirty trench-coat exposing his middle-aged body that resembled a dropped trifle, as his erect 5 inch winkie sprung to attention in the fresh forest air.

  “Oh my God! What the hell are you doing! Get the hell away from us,” screamed Rebecca Chambers. Bernard Lord didn’t budge. He stood there, for this was exactly what he wanted. To shock, to surprise. His bushy balls bounced gently as he rocked his hips back and forth. It was only when an apple struck him in the head courtesy of Simone Johnson’s strong toned arm, that the smile dropped from his face.

  “Get the hell away!” the girls screamed. Bernard Lord looked at the floor, did up his dirty coat and bounded off, disappearing between the bushes. He’d disgusted these beautiful young girls. His job was done.

  Similarly to how Bernard Lord had been leering, he himself was now being leered at, and was about to experience what it was like to be the victim for a change.

  As Bernard Lord was about to take refuge by his favorite tree, a sinister shadow cast its way over his Dr Martin boots. The middle-aged scruffy flasher looked up. And up. And up. For there, standing next to him was a huge yeti, fully naked with his 15 inch dong swinging between his legs like a pendulum.

  Bernard Lord’s mouth opened in shock, his eyes widened and his furrowed brow began to sweat.

  “Bigfoot flash. Bigfoot flash too,” said the beast.

  Bernard Lord’s eyes went from the yeti’s face, down his ridiculously muscular hairy torso, down to his unimaginably large dong. Terrified, Bernard Lord turned to run, but the yeti grabbed him by the shoulder. Undoing his trench-coat from the front, Bernard Lord got free and sprinted as fast as he could, his pasty white butt-cheeks wobbling hideously as he ran.

  After putting on Bernard Lord’s dirty coat, Bigfoot went for a wander in the forest.

  Behind the next row of trees, a few yards away, was a woman. She was on her hands and knees, her lactating bosoms out and jiggling. Behind her was a cyclist, his bike propped up against a tree, his cycling helmet still on and fully clothed, as he burrowed his face between the twin globes of her plentiful tush. With her knickers around her ankles and her skirt hitched up, her fingers traced down her soft stomach to dally in her trimmed pussy.

  An ominous shadow cast upon her milky swinging planets. Looking up, her jaw nearly hit the floor, as she saw before her the yeti, dressed in a dirty done-up trench-coat. The yeti squatted down, reached out his large leathery hands and began to milk her tits downward like a cow’s teat, squeezing her long lactating nipples tightly as girly ribbons of white milk splashed down onto the mud.

  The cyclist licked all the way from her plump pussy, up to her delicate starfish where he probed his tongue eagerly. With his face buried within her fleshy crack, he was unaware of the frivolous milking ensuing before him. As the cyclist took his head out of the crack for a breath of air, he saw a sight that made his heart beat at double the speed. The erection in his cycling shorts died down to the size of a maggot while his testicles shriveled up in fear. Seeing the yeti’s face, the cyclist got up, got on his bicycle and disappeared through the bushes, leaving his sunglasses on the floor behind him.

  “Bigfoot milk? Bigfoot need milk,” said the yeti.

  The yeti opened his dirty coat as the woman’s mouth watered, her tongue hanging out like a thirsty mutt as she feasted her eyes on his 15 inch python which sprung up in the air, fully standing to attention. The woman knew what was expected of her and dropped to her knees, crawled over and placed her lips on the throbbing helm, hungry like an explorer finding an ice-lolly in the Sahara. She sucked, unable to take the whole head in her mouth, so she playfully bobbed her head to the side to suck his shaft, the rippling beastly surface pulsating between her chops, as she instinctively reached down and cupped his full sacs.

  As Bigfoot pushed his rod towards her heaving bosoms, the woman sat straight up on her knees, enveloped his staff between her planets and began to milk him up and down, performing a monstrous Bombay-role. She bounced her breasts, tit-wanking his shaft as Bigfoot let out an animalistic groan. As she pressed her bosoms together, her nipples began to spray droplets of milk that trickled down his shaft and pooled around his big heavy balls, dripping onto the floor beneath.

  The woman couldn’t help but reach down to once again frig her own pussy, and as she flicked herself rampantly she moved her head to suckle on the full testicles. As she moaned into her mouthful of nut, she frigged herself to climax, spraying girly strings of love-juice onto the grass. Bigfoot still needed to shoot, but after reaching her own orgasm the woman suddenly felt fearful, got to her feet, pulled up her panties, had one last look at the 15 inch dong and fled between the trees.

  The yeti hid his straining beast under his trench-coat, frustrated. He picked up the cyclist’s wrap-around shades and put them on, as he plodded off through the next row of bushes.

  21 yards away, in a nearby clearing, Robbie Robertson stared down at his 7.5 inch prick as he gripped it and stroked it. He looked to his left at the 8 incher, to his right at the 6 incher, and straight before him at the 8.5 incher. He’d been in some circle jerks before, but knew as it was unfolding that this was arguably his favorite one so far.

  Unzipped and exposed, the four young men jacked their rods purposefully, their balls tightening as their hands quickened, not distracted by the wind in the rustling bushes around them, keen to unload. As Robbie Robertson jacked speedily, a mysterious phallic-shaped shadow cast its way down across his straining girth. Looking up and blinking in the daylight, his heart almost stopped, for there, joining the circle jerkers was the yeti. Dressed in a dirty trench-coat and a pair of wrap-around sunglasses, the yeti smiled.

  “Bigfoot jack off? Bigfoot need to circle jerk.”

  Robbie Robertson had to look up at such a steep angle that the wind blew the backwards trucker cap off his head and it tumbled to the floor. Shocked and scared, the guys were at a point of no return. Robbie Robertson looked to his left and his right at the two wangers being jacked mercilessly, and as the pace quickened Bigfoot joined in, stroking his 15 incher vigorously.

  Both prick on either side shot their jizzy loads, spurting their spunky ropes downwards, splashing onto the floor like a fountain, the blind sperm eager to reach the non-existent egg. The 8.5 incher opposite Robbie twitched and shot his load, the jizz spraying out, further messing-up Robbie’s dirty sneakers. The three men scampered off into the bushes, terrified and ashamed, as Robbie looked at his own reflection in
the yeti’s shades. Fear struck his core, as his winkie drooped and became flaccid, the yeti’s monstrous organ aimed strait at him.

  “Jesus Christ, I’d better get out of here,” muttered Robbie to himself, as he turned and fled the scene, leaving Bigfoot to masturbate solo. Bigfoot took his hand off his straining cock, his orgasm still pent-up within him. He picked up Robbie Robertson’s trucker cap and placed it on his head, forwards with the visor down. With his shades on, trucker cap down and dirty coat done up, Bigfoot wandered further into the depths of the forest.

  After walking for 8 minutes, the smell of petrol wafted up into Bigfoot’s nostrils. Behind the next row of bushes, the yeti leant up against a tree and watched unseen at an event that even shocked him. For there, in the next clearing, were a gang of lesbian bikers. Sitting on a huge oak tree stump was the first lesbian, her chunky thighs widely parted, her leather boots on the tree-stump, her furry muff fully exposed. The second lesbian was mohicanned and bent over on her knees, greedily lapping at the first lesbian’s open mound, slurping loudly as she delved her tongue into the hair-pie.

  The second lesbian’s studded belt was undone, her ripped jeans and knickers down by her knees, as there behind her stood the third lesbian, the leader of the gang. The leader’s shaved head glistened in the early-evening light, her serpent tattoo snaking up her neck from the collar of her leather jacket. She was fully clothed, and around her waist was a strap-on, 9 inches, black in color with big plastic balls, as she resolutely penetrated the kneeling lesbian before her.

  Bucking her hips back and forth like a valiant steed, the lesbian leader slid every inch of the black plastic toy in and out of the pulsating pussy of the licking dyke. The first lesbian looked up and caught of the yeti standing by the tree. “What the hell? There’s a dirty trucker watching us!”