LOGAN: The Fallen Thorns MC

by Evelyn Glass

  She instantly calmed down, “Oh, well, if that’s what you want to do,” she giggled and leapt up to wrap her arms around his neck, struggling to pull him into the bed, “Get in here, you big tease!”

  In a lover’s tangle, they hit the mattress together and she squirmed, and writhed until she was on top of him, and engulfing his cock with her mouth.

  She loved this playtime he started, absolutely loved it. Did he know? Could he feel how concerned she was about her own sexuality and what her atrophied self could offer him?

  After that rumpus playtime, though, she was immersed into bubbling clouds of hyper joy. Playing, and running, and defying him made the green glowing power of her fears turn into will-o-wisps, which are only dangerous if you follow them.

  She only sucked on his cock for perhaps five or six minutes just to bring him to a solid hardness. The thickness of his cock was a bit disconcerting and had her biting her lip when she thought about him pounding into her. She straddled him while mentally and spiritually opening herself to large-scale newness. His cock, she theorized, was going to bring arousal differently that she was accustomed to. It was both thicker and longer than she was experienced with. Such potential for new forms of stimulation would most likely reveal some form of new responsiveness in her.

  After some thought along these likes, she theorized that the sensations would, logically, be something different than — just more. Perhaps something wholly different than even previously thought impossible. A radical alteration like that who be very rewarding.

  The stretching and filling sensations from his cock breaching her opening were thrilling and her body’s reactions were decidedly different already. She religiously observed and recorded her body’s reactions with as much detail as she could for her research and study of sexual stimulation and related subjects. She knew what reactions to expect from a hard cock entering her pussy and what was expected, wasn’t going on.

  Her excitement with having a new experience in this area was close to blistering. She had been certain for some time that her sexual experience had reached its limits as far as intercourse was concerned. It seemed see was about to be introduced to a fresh perspectives.

  Once the head of his cock had stretched her opening enough to begin working the rest of him, she became more aggressive with the grinding motions of her hips, changing her simple pushing down method into circular, tenacious exertions created by the harmonization of the effort of her ass, thighs and hips, using all of those muscle groups to create a powerful, and comfortable gyration designed to drill Cole’s cock inside of her while giving him some new stimulations too.

  The first unexpected experience came to her not by means of her erogenous zones where her observation was focused, but by the awareness of a heightened feeling of intimacy with Cole. She felt like she could feel his emotions, she was so connected to him.

  This connection with him also felt like it was continuing to open her up, promising even greater access to his experience. The effect of this heightened closeness was creating unexpected physical stimulations, as well, and these vibrations were coming from unexpected areas.

  They were coming from her erogenous zones.

  The alterations were maddeningly dissimilar to any previous experience she could recall.

  Everyone, of course, has erogenous zones around their body, which are places that if simulated or incited by various means, will raise the level of sexual arousal of the body as a whole. There is a set of common zone areas that everyone possesses and whose responses are, on the whole, predictable, such as the pussy, or the cock, or the ass and breasts. The nipples and anus fit into this grouping, as well.

  Then there was a set of zones that are common in location with nearly everyone, but not so predictable in the resulting response. An example of these areas might be the nape of the neck, or the back of the knee. At both of these areas, kisses, and correctly performed caresses, might arouse the body as a whole, but not to the same degree for everyone. In fact, some people may report that they were more annoyed by the attempted stimulations than anything else. Some might report that simulation in those areas made their knees weak.

  Another set of zones is one comprised of areas whose locations and effectiveness are apt to be widely different from you and the person sitting next to you on the bus. The levels of response are normally different, but so are the locations of these areas. For Nicole, a good example of this was the front of her thighs. Deeply caressed by a good strong hand, the top of her thigh was as arousing as fondling her ass. Not everyone had this response to stimulation in that area and, if they did, the effects could be greatly different.

  Further down the path, we come to the set of areas that comprise a wholly different type zone. On the whole, the previous types of zones excite the body and raise arousal levels from the ground level. They are “starting points”. Rubbing your clit is going to eventually excite you at any time of day and even under conditions where sex is not really on your mind. It is chemistry and electric impulses. Hardwired.

  This next set of areas isn’t like that. These are areas of the body only exist after you have already reached a higher level of arousal – a noticeable level. A perfect example of this for Nicole is her hair. Pulling her hair is, in no way, stimulating during the normal course of the day and might just get you kicked. However, with her arousal level increasing unexpectedly fast as she continued to work Cole’s cock inside of her pussy, she was quickly approaching a level of arousal where pulling her hair would be more effective. In fact, it was close to sounding like a good idea.

  After achieving an even higher level, perhaps after her first climax, pulling her hair would be a great idea and would likely spike her body so effectively she could have another orgasm just from that stimulation — just by adding to the mix the single, brief, excitation of pulling a hand full of hair and giving her head a good yank while continuing to fuck her.

  Saying something like, “I’m going to fuck the shit out of you!” in a deep, aggressive tone, wouldn’t be a bad idea either – just saying.

  Again, this zone is non-existent during the normal course of the day and performing this stimulation on her, even with a deep, aggressive voice, would only incite her to scream “Rape!” and then claw her assailant’s eyes out.

  Nicole was well versed and deeply studied in these areas of knowledge. She also had several years of experience with dedicated experimentations, lab notes, and a wide subject base to work with, comprised of men who were normally quite forward with her when she inquired about particular results and stimulations. Because of her years of delving into this area, she wrongly believed that there was little for her to expand on and no experiences with her personal zones that would surprise her.

  She was deeply and wonderfully surprised by just how wrong she was.

  CHAPTER TWENTY

  From her observations of herself to this point, there were two new developments, which she believed were clear enough and important enough to pay particular attention to. There might be more available, but her ability to think logically and to assess herself in a detached manner was deteriorating rapidly; in fact, she wouldn’t be surprised if her first climax came before she got his cock all the way in.

  The first development she observed was that her growing connection of intimacy with Cole was literally changing her body’s chemistry. The feeling of his hands on her thighs was not arousing her at expected levels. In fact, the result was far beyond simple arousal — it was an excruciating aphrodisiac, which she had no words for and no previous experience to compare – and it was growing. She was certain of it. She felt much more aware of him now than she did only a short time ago.

  The second development, she observed, suggested that her rising level of intimacy was more or less controlled by his cock. The deeper she managed to work him in, the more rewarding it was on every level of her awareness – mental and spiritual included. Thus, his cock was also the true controlling aspect of the physical responses expec
ted from her erogenous zones, as described before.

  She nearly laughed when the idea crossed her mind that Cole’s cock was therefore a possible tool for humans to achieve enlightenment.

  “It’s a fucking god,” she groaned through gritted teeth as she exerted more effort into her ass, hip, and thigh rotations, drilling his cock harder into her depths, resulting in an amazingly electric and galvanizing degree of global arousal. “Fuck, I love your cock, Cole! Shit!”

  While it wasn’t a true development, she noticed something else with growing concern, a concern that was developing into alarm. She observed that the aches and agonies, the rushes of pleasure and other emotionally charged events resulting from her fierce efforts to grind his cock in were on display. They were being communicated physically without her design or consent. As these stimulating events occurred, such as the growing ache in her pussy to get him inside, they were reflected instantly by a physical display of body language, communicating the occurrence of these events.

  For example, she may feel a rush of pleasure and sway with it, or suddenly convulse unexpectedly because of an agony in her clitoris; her abs rolled and her hips twisted reflexively when other events occurred. A swooning wave of bliss may make her hands into claws or alter the rhythmic gyrations of her hips. She watched with dismay, several times, as her hand shot to her nipple and pulled, reflexively creating a counter stimulation to the one threatening her.

  The result of these sexually charged actions was a charismatic, primal, and savagely erotic dance she apparently had no control over. While this was very disturbing and certainly not expected after years of experience, meditation, and training to ensure this exact phenomena did not happen, another observation was slightly more alarming at the present time.

  Cole was watching her – watching what amounted to an X-rated interpretative dance – with tremendous focus and reading her body language with increasing interest. Through their connection, she could she knew she was driving Cole wild with these sexually charged sways and moans and nipple pulling. In fact, his growing urge to take her down and fuck the shit out of her was reaching a critical state. She could feel his urgency, as if it were inside of herself.

  She did not want to tease him like this, not right now, but how could she stop what was reflexive and wholly out of her control? “Please wait Cole, please,” she begged, her voice deep and husky, filled with erotic stirrings. It was the wrong voice to use. Her voice in that state was only going to invigorate the provocations her dance-of-cock displayed.

  Cole’s hands squeezed her thighs as he arched his neck, as if fighting to control himself under extreme duress. Her thighs and eyes were suddenly feasting on powerful stimuli, blasting her insides with waves of lust and desire. Her hips suddenly rolled a little higher and then ground down with a little more twist, as a result while choreographing these actions with a deep moan of lust and crazed yearning.

  The visual stimulation of seeing a man as powerful as Cole displaying unbearable desire for her brought her knuckle to her mouth where she bit down while her other hand combed provocatively through her hair – all before she realized what she was doing. With the realization, her mind created an image of her current, sexually charged posture. “Ah shit, Cole. I’m sorry!” she moaned pulling her hands down and gripping his.

  “You are driving me fucking insane!” Cole told her and his voice was so desperate, and close to unhinged, that it flipped all of the passion switches in her brain, to green-light-on.

  “Please Cole, please. I’m almost there. You’re so fucking big and so fucking hard! Shit, baby!” she groaned with a voice dripping with lust while a voice in her head told her to shut the fuck up, because she was making it worse.

  The experience of fucking such a cock had become categorically new, she decided. The effects, it seemed, were far reaching and could even be global. She was now unable to control the sound of her voice or the music of her moans, which was a skill she took pride in. Her throat was set at full stimulation and the off switch was broken.

  Her erogenous zones lit her up in unpredictable ways, resulting in uncontrollable physical displays of lust and allure, resulting in uncontrollable excitations of Cole’s reaction. Never, not once in three years, had control during sex been rendered so critically inept.

  Her empathy levels were off the chart — she could feel exactly what her gyrations and actions were doing to Cole. She knew what aroused him, how much, and she had a clearer estimation of just how far he was from breaking. But her empathy, which she worked on nearly every day to cultivate its use and strength, was laughably useless, because she couldn’t control the dance! She had no control at all over how desirable she was or what primal signals she was giving off.

  Her pussy was throbbing with need and anticipation. She wanted to be fucked. Hard. She wanted to be taken like a woman, not a call girl. Her abs begged to work him, as well, but she managed to hold them back. Any further stimulation and they were both lost at this point. The first task was to get him inside of her and then she could bring him to riot.

  After that, she had no plan. She had no control and no skills that didn’t require control. So, she accepted the fact that she would just go wherever his animal wanted to run.

  With all the newness and everything going on inside of her, it felt like it took over an hour to work him into her completely. In reality, it was probably seven or eight minutes.

  As soon as she could comfortably take him in this position, she began to fuck him with strong strokes of her thighs and curls of her hips. She ground her clit into base of his cock. She worked her pussy up and down his shaft with growing speed until she felt from him that she was simulating him just right.

  She let go of the restraint that she held her abdominal muscles with, turning them loose to do as they willed, which felt like she was setting the dogs on him. Groans escaped her lips, which were unrehearsed and unprepared. They probably weren’t even on key. You can’t orgasm in C? Really? What kind of call girl are you?

  The level of lust in his eyes for her was now close to being violent. She definitely would have quailed, screamed, and ran from the room if her connection to him hadn’t assured her that he intended no harm.

  Her body’s enthusiasm for the worship of his cock rose to bizarre realms and her dance-of-cock became a wanton display of intense lust, which nearly matched the blaze in Cole’s eyes. The room filled with moans of raw craving. Cole’s pleasure was now singing, as well, and his control was disintegrating.

  She could feel the destruction of his holds, when they trembled his hips and produced awesome displays of energy and power by rippling his abdominal muscles. Watching his abs while feeling his restraint crumbling apart, knowing at this point she wouldn’t stop enthralling him if she could – the thrill was just too delicious – brought to life her first climax.

  The currents of the orgasm rushed through her with total abandonment, adding volume and greater urgency to her outcries, and a feeling of lewdness into the rotation of her hips. The small orgasm, promising to produce powerful results, was instantly in control. She fell forward, humping him like an animal while clawing at his chest. Her eyes were fixed on his flexing, pulsing abs, which fed into the growing orgasm like gasoline on a match flame. Then her abs, and pussy muscles began to work him, as well.

  Cole’s hands on her thighs turned into to grips of steel. His thick, hard fingers dug into her flesh as she rocked and rolled her ass on his thighs, assaulting his cock with perverse madness. Her hair flew wildly around them as she tossed her head erratically, wildly desperate to regain some form of control before her orgasm surfaced. She no longer had any connected thoughts. All of her knowledge was useless now. Her throat growled, joining the growls of Cole’s desperate efforts.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

  Then, cutting through all the layers of desire, plans and estimates of arousal levels, making all of her littered thoughts trivial pursuits, she felt her blooming orgasm rise with stunning velocity. Her
eyes went wide and her body faltered as deep shudders interrupted her rhythms. The rush was as encompassing as it was surprising.

  She didn’t remember orgasms rushing up like this before. But then, evidently, she never had one before if that’s what this was. The power and breath of it was far too much. Orgasms were sweet blisses, like she brought herself to in the shower, or in the bath. She liked them.

  Her climax hit and cascaded through her body as an avalanche of passion, setting off every zone and point of stimulation available. She pitched back and then her hands pulled at the sides of her head as the resulting explosion of stimulation churned and powered her climax up, beyond her scope of imagination. Her last voluntary thought glimmered with the hope of channeling that wild storm, which, as an after-thought, was ludicrous.

  The voltaic throes she was convulsed by, with such ravage abandon, felt dangerous. She was screaming desperate pleas from deep in her lungs. Her body knotted and curled from violent contractions. She pitched forward and pounded her forehead into Cole’s chest, and then was wildly thrown up and back by her churning abs. There, her spine arched so greatly, she could nearly see the wall behind them.

  She screamed and writhed, bucking with no rhythm at all.

  Then Cole mercilessly gripped her hips and began to fuck his cock up into her, driving her mind straight through the walls of reality. His power pounded inside of her, heedless of the thrashing storm throttling her nervous system — and he was so goddamn strong. She quit rolling hips and fought against any impulse to move at all.

  She tried to beg him to stop. Falling forward again, her mouth gaping as her head shook wildly from side to side, she clawed and pulled at his arms, but none of her efforts seemed to be noticed since he continued to thrash into her.

  Nicole’s awareness danced on the storms he churned beneath her, as a new orgasm rose.

  “No, no, no, no,” were the only words coming from her throat when, with no warning at all, the orgasm that was merely a thought a moment ago, curled and hurtled her once more with violent throes and voltaic waves.