Primal Hunt

I was sitting in a bar one night, taking shelter from a nasty snow storm sweeping through the city. Some small, skeezy dive that probably survived only because of the boozehounds that shared the cold evening with me. Boozehounds that shifted between drunken wailing and angry, stumbling rants. But I didn’t bother them, and they didn’t bother me. Most humans sensed the feral blood instinctively. Knew to stay away.

For about an hour I had been nursing the same whiskey, having lost myself in the dull murmur of the old TV that sat above the bar. Some old crime procedural, one of the hundreds that all have the same name. Not that I cared, there was simply something comforting about it going through the motions. You knew what you were getting. Only question was how many women they’d haphazardly sacrifice in the name of drama.

I never heard her sitting down beside me. Not sure if she was just that silent, or if I was just that zoned out. I didn’t see her either, at least not at first. No, the first thing I noticed was her scent. A scent of fire and expensive liquor. Sharp metallic mixed with a musky shadow. Sweat, oil, perfume, leather, sex and just a hint of blood.

So I turned, and saw that the scent belonged to a woman that looked like she had just stepped out of a fighting mag. Short, black hair sticking out from under a tattered, black hoodie. A leather jacket, scarred by time and numerous scuffles and torn jeans that had seen their best days. Suddenly, she turned to look back at me. Her eyes were a steely blue, sharp and attentive. Her features straight, but with a a softness to their curves. A fresh scar on her lower lip, and a light bruising around her right eye. A light hint of tattoos crawling up her strong neck.

For a short moment we just looked at each other, trying to measure one another. Then suddenly, she cracked a smile. A challenging smirk, as if she was daring me to make a move. Needless to say, my interest was piqued.

“You look like you just came out of a fight,” I started, eying the wound on her lip. “But you don’t look like you lost.”

“Too right,” she said, turning back to the bartender to take her shot. “MMA quarterfinals. Can’t hold back.”

“Quarterfinals, huh?” I let the words linger a bit as she downed her shot. “You must be pretty good.”

She looked back at me as she signaled for another drink, suddenly wearing a smile that could almost be called feral. “Oh, I’m a piece of work in the ring alright…and outside of it.”

Now, people are usually this…casual around me. Not that I’m a scary looking mountain of muscles. It’s the scent. Though they don’t realize it, they can sense that there’s something other than human blood and pheromones. Maybe she sensed it as well and didn’t care. Or maybe that’s why she sat down next to me in the first place. Stranger things have happened.

So we sat talking for a while, exchanging jabs and dry wit. At first it was mostly a nice distraction on a boring night. But the way she moved held my attention. And her scent, still saturated in adrenaline and endorphins was slowly waking other instincts. The great thing about having a superhuman sense of smell was that it was easy to tell that she was feeling it as well. Our eyes remained locked for longer and longer — not like longing lovers, but like wolves staring each other down. Stoking the fire.

I honestly don’t know if it was her or me that caved first. But we had both had enough and left the bar behind. Outside, the snow was falling heavily as ever, and the wind had picked up. Quick walking turned to running through the snow-filled streets. Running turned to chasing, as she took off in a sprint. I’m not ashamed to say it took me almost half a block to catch up, before I caught hold of her, pushed her up against the wall in an alley and kissed her hungrily. She met the kiss with an animal fervor, her teeth biting at my lip and her hands clawing at my neck. I taste blood from the wound on her lip, and it drives me nuts. One of us – maybe both of us – growls with desire as we keep feeding the fire.

Suddenly she pushes me off her, and she’s off running again. I slip as I try to spring after her, but I’m not about to let her get away. For a long time, she’s just a blurry figure far away in the snow. But little by little I catch up to her. Deep in that cold, empty wasteland of a city I could sense her beating heart and the blood pumping through her veins. I could almost taste the adrenaline and her excitement. There was an ever so slight tinge of fear — that gut reaction that all living things have when they are chased like they prey they really are.

Finally, she ducked into a building, and as she was trying to unlock the door I finally caught her. Pushing her up tightly against the door, I caught her in my arms. With one hand I grabbed her hair and with the other I gripped her throat. Her breath was rapid and her heart thumped like a hammer in her chest as I leaned in, bit her ear and whispered.

“One more chance lovely. I’ll give you a 10 second head start up those stairs…and when I catch you, I’m going to fuck you, whether you’ve reached your apartment or not.”

She let out what sounded like something between a growl and a purr, pushing her firm ass against me. I let her open the door, but just as I was about to let her run, she grabbed my hand, twisted it, and before I knew it I was on my back on the ground, world spinning around me. I had to remind myself that she probably had a lot of moves up her sleeve. I barely caught the door in time before it was going to slam shut, and got up on my feet. Her footsteps echoed in the stairwell, rapidly going upwards. So I followed, rushing up the stairs two at a time. The floors flew by, and I could hear her pace slowing down. Much further, and she wouldn’t make it all the way home.

But then there was the echo of a lock clicking open, and the footsteps stopped. So I slowed down, caught my breath. She’d won the race, but that wouldn’t be the end of it. Her scent lingered in the air, even stronger than before. An intoxicating mix of hot skin, dopamine-filled blood and wet sex. Those remaining steps upwards only served to strengthen the anticipation. I pictured her in her apartment. Maybe she was hiding. Or maybe she was waiting in ambush — she certainly seemed full of surprises.

Two floors up was an apartment door that was wide open. Inside, everything was veiled in shadows. I admit, having better sight in the dark gave me an unfair advantage. But she had the home field advantage after all. I closed the door behind me, hard enough to make her know it was just the two of us now. On the floor I could see scattered pieces of her clothing — shoes here, jacket there, hoodie there. So I followed her example. Shoes and jacket thrown away, I slowly stepped inside. Shirt soon joined them, together with my socks. I never fight wearing only socks, and she was not going down without a struggle.

I take a moment. Breathe. Focus.

*****

The air is filled with her scent, both old and fresh. Doesn’t help me find her, but it sure gets me in the mood. Her place is sparse, but still messy. The home of someone that isn’t home much. Probably spends a lot of her time in gyms and dojos. Training gear, some books, a couple of half-dead plants,postcards from different countries. For a moment I’m more absorbed by who she is rather than where she is. Suddenly, there’s a creak somewhere in the apartment, and I remember myself. She’s definitely prowling, not hiding. It’s just a question of who gets the jump on who.

So I take a few measured steps, listening for movements. The apartment isn’t big, but it has many small nooks and corners in several rooms. Step by step I make my way deeper inside. I can hear her moving ever so lightly, only betrayed by the slight stickiness of the linoleum floor. I hide behind a corner, waiting. Slowly but surely she comes closer, apprehensively. I hold my breath and listened to hers approaching, muscles stiff and ready to pounce. Then, suddenly, her footsteps stop just by the corner. For a brief moment, there’s absolute silence, save for two rapidly beating hearts. Then I pounce.

She lets out a small yelp of surprise as I grab her wrist, but he muscle memory is formidable. She twists her arm and spins, tripping me and almost sending me sprawling on the floor. But my footwork isn’t too bad either, and I catch my balance against the wall. Finally I get to see her. She stands in the pale light seeping in from the street like a living shadow. She only wears her tight t-shirt, a pair of small, black panties and a wicked, challenging smile on her lips. Her feet are in a fighting stance. I smile back at her, stepping out into the room. I may have the strength, but she has the technique. But that just makes it more fun.

For a while we’re just measuring each other, waiting for the other to make a move. Eyes locked, making promises about what we’re going to do to each other that no words could communicate. She’s swaying her hips without breaking her stance, teasing and beckoning. Certain that I’ll make the first move. And I do.

I lunge at her, again going for her wrist, but as she tries the same move, I pull her against me and catch her in a strong hold. For a few precious seconds I kiss her deeply, her teeth digging into my lip as she kisses back. I’m about to grab her hair, but she slips out of the hold, quick as a cat. Then all I feel is her foot behind my leg, her hand on my shoulder and suddenly she’s on top of me on the floor, lips hungrily locked with mine, her nails clawing at my chest.

She’d earned that moment of victory, so I let her have it for now. I grab her hair and pull her close to me, as my other hand travels down her back and caresses her firm, yet unbearably soft ass. The feeling of her grinding her pelvis against my ever harder cock is frustratingly teasing, as is her deep moaning into my mouth as she pleasures herself. So I press down on her tail bone, pushing her harder against me, and she cries out softly, letting her grip go for a moment. That’s when I push her over on her back, pinning her hands to the floor with one hand. The other grabs her around the throat, holding her in place.

I lean over her, looking her deep in the eyes and whisper. “Quite a piece of work alright…”

“Didn’t wear you out already did I?” she whispers mockingly, biting at my lip.

“Oh no, lovely.”

I take my hand off her throat and grab her t-shirt. In one move I rip it up, exposing her firm little breasts, her nipples stiff with excitement. She squirms and whimpers as I start playing with her, licking and biting, taking pleasure in the scent of her hot skin. But I get careless, and suddenly she slips out of my grip. Sharp nails dig into my back and neck, and she tears at my hair while I keep teasing her breasts. All of a sudden, her thighs tighten in a vice-like grip around my waist and before I can react, she has flipped me over on my back while she straddles my chest, locking my arms straight up. In a quick motion she throws off her ruined t-shirt, now wearing only panties. I can’t help but admire that taut, strong body covered in tattoos, muscles visibly working under her skin in the pale light. She places her hands on my wrists, adjusting her hold.

“Looking down like this…” Her voice was but a whisper, smoldering with desire as she rubbed her pussy against my chest. “…just makes me so fucking hot.”

I’m about to answer, but she moves up, pushing her pussy against my face. The full force of her scent and heat hit me as I feet her wet panties against my mouth. As she starts grinding, I oblige, stretching out my tongue to taste her. She tastes like animal, like desire and heat. There is nothing but her in that moment — her warmth, her muscles and the sound of her whimpers of pleasure that grow ever more intense. Finally she is grinding so hard it was almost painful, and I’m about to throw her off again when she cries out and shudders, climaxing all over me. Her grip loosens. So I take the chance, and in one strong move I push her over and down on her stomach, grabbing her hair in an iron grip. She lets out a deep moan, but doesn’t, can’t, fight back. I let my hand scratch down her back, all the way to her panties that I quickly relieve her off. For a moment I let my fingers play with her pussy, feeling her hot stickiness and taking pleasure in her whimpers. Her scent is divine, hot and musky. I grab her hands and hold them against her back, and with her in control, I take my time removing my pants. After all that I’m almost painfully hard, and now she’ll get to reciprocate.

Grabbing her hair again, I pull her up standing. I take a moment to play with her, my hand moving from her hair to her throat again. Kissing and biting her neck, I enjoy every little moan and shiver I can coax out of her. But her firm ass pressing against my hard cock is too enticing.

I throw her down again and for a moment she lies there, more submissive than I’ve seen her all evening – and I don’t trust it one bit. My underwear is gone in two seconds flat, and I get down there with her. She fights me at first, but it’s all play and show. As soon as I grab her hair and press my cock against her face she opens her mouth eagerly as a good little girl. Soon her lips are wrapped around me, teasing and sucking. I hold her hair with one hand, guiding her moves as the other hand slips down between her legs. She’s soaking wet and hot, and when my finger hits her clit she whimpers and starts using her mouth more and more hungrily. Soon she’s sucking my cock deep, taking it as deep as she can. Her lips and tongue make my blood boil, and her nails clawing at my thighs and stomach are all the more teasing. The way she looks up at me while using her mouth would be enough to finish me off in itself, but that’d bee too easy. Too quick. I pull her up, kiss her with a deep hunger, and whisper:”

“I’m going to-” That’s about as far as I get before she’s thrown me down again, straddling me once more.

“You’re going to what?” she whispers back, her hand held against my jaw. The gauntlet is thrown.

Barely a moment later, we’re fighting. Struggling, biting, clawing and straining. Even after all that, her technique is formidable and swift. But little by little she’s getting tired. I’m wearing her out. God only knows what kind of fight she had put up if she’d been fresh and rested. But this is just another way of fucking, another way for our bodies to play. Muscle against muscle, teeth against neck, nails across the back. She wants it just as bad as I do, but neither wants to give the other that pleasure without a fight. Soon there’s barely any part of us that isn’t covered in red marks and our muscles are burning from the strain. Sooner or later, one of us will buckle. The scent of sex and sweat saturates the air, and we are both straining for breath.

Then finally, she gets me in an unexpected grip that no strength can beat. She’s on top of me, her legs and hands locking mine. I can feel the heat of her pussy against my cock and there is an almost possessed look of lust in her eyes.

“Fucking”- she pants, her breath heavy. “…fucking finally.” I can’t help but smile, despite the fact that I was pinned.

She moves her pelvis, and I feel the top of my cock being lightly pressed against her wet, hot opening. Then, slowly but surely, she pushes my cock deep inside her, with an almost animal growl of pleasure. For a moment I forget to breathe as her tight wetness squeezes around me — sweet but agonizing torture. Then finally, I’m fully inside her, and for a moment she stops with a deep sigh, savoring the moment. I can almost see her heartbeat and the pulse in her muscles. Then she starts moving. And oh how she moves. As sweet as the feeling of her scorching pussy around my cock is, the sight of her body moving in pleasure is just as sweet. Like a wild animal in heat, every little movement rippling through her body. Every little move makes her moan and whimper, breath heavy with pleasure. Pleasure that is hers by right to take. She grinds her pelvis against mine as she takes my cock, obviously taking great pleasure in the sensation. I meet her moves and her tempo as best I can, pushing hard every time she moves downwards to reach deep inside her. And with every thrust her tempo increases and her moans deepen. The force of her grinding is almost frightening, but she’s beyond controlling and delirious in her pleasure. Her breath almost stops.

“OhffuuckkfucckkyyyyeaahhImgonnaaahahhhhh,” and suddenly she explodes in a screaming climax, still grinding and pushing my cock deep inside her pussy.

By now, I’m just as lost as she is in that delirium and I meet her moves to let her burn as hot as possible. And then, as quick as she explodes, she collapses and goes limp. For a few seconds I’m simply in awe at one of the hottest things I’ve ever seen.

I let her catch her breath for a moment, to savor the high. Some of the longest seconds in my life. Then I push her off me gently, flip her on her stomach and get on top of her. She shivers as my cock brushes against her ass. Grabbing her hair, I lean in and whisper in her ear:

“Now I’m going to make you mine, lovely…I hope you’re ready.” My voice is hot with anticipation. I sink my teeth into her shoulder. A threat and a promise.

“Nnnhhhgooood yeahhh…” She can barely speak straight, still coming down from her high.

I spread her legs wide, and pull her up on all fours, my hand still gripping her hair. She whimpers as I press the head of my cock against her wet slit, and for a few moments I let her wait for it. Then, grabbing her hip I push inside her — unbearably slow and deep. She barely breathes as she whispers holy curses under her breath, and I have to remind myself to breathe myself. Then, with a strong grip on hip, I fuck her. Short, rough thrust making us both shake and shudder. Suddenly, her arms buckle, leaving her firm, lovely ass in the air. I can’t resist giving it a firm smack, making her moan loudly. Then I descend on her, pressing her down as I push deep inside her pussy. This is how she’ll be mine. Holding her hair, I bend her head forward and bite her neck as I start fucking her again. She lets out a deep, guttural moan, and pushes back against my cock, begging for more. On impulse I put my other hand around her throat and she is now completely at my mercy, our bodies almost painfully intertwined. Every thrust and bite makes her give out a muffled curse, and pushes me closer to my own climax. Little by little, the pressure builds, and I feel like my cock is about to burst from the pleasure.

Unable to control myself anymore, I whisper in her ear between breaths: “I’m going to come inside you lovely…” Just saying it gets me dangerously close to the edge.

“Nnnhhhhfuckkyeahhh,” she whimpers in response, arching her back.

“Make you all mine…”

Finally I can’t take any more. My muscles tense up, and I hold her suffocatingly close as I bite her shoulder and come deep inside her in hard, almost violent spurts. She cries out in pleasure as I make her mine, filling her up completely with my cum. Spasm after spasm make my abdomen cramp up, and when they finally stop and my body relaxes, so does my grip on her. Instead I wrap my arms around her, lie on her side and pull her close to me, my cock still deep inside her. For a while we just lie there, breathing, sensing each others heartbeat. She places a soft kiss at the base of my throat, and I kiss her on the head. She looks up and me and gives me a delirious grin.

“That’s a pretty good first round…”

I laugh, pull her close and kiss her again.