Page 52 of Prince of the Northwest Forest
It’s hard to lie next to him when I know that we could be so beautiful together if he were into guys. But he says he’s not, and I need to accept that. I have my doubts, but even if my hunches are correct, pursuing him isn’t the right thing to do for so many reasons. I need to stop.
It’s just really difficult. The more time I spend with him, the more I like him. And I’m not simply talking about physical attraction. I like his kindness and compassion. As we hiked today, I heard Kalle whispering to the animals, even though they don’t understand him anymore. It was adorable. It’s no wonder the animals bow down to him. I’d bow down to him, too, because he earns respect. He treats all sentient beings with honor and dignity, and he has a supreme sense of duty.
Right now, though, that sense of duty is getting in the way. He’s faithful and loyal to a woman who he doesn’t even know.I mustn’t get in the middle of that. I am not, however, going to censor my fantasies.
He sighs, and his breathing evens out.
And now Fantasy Kalle comes into the tent.
Fantasy Kalle is naked, all powerful muscles and acres of skin. Fantasy Kalle is looming over me, a wicked expression in his eyes. One that says he needs to have me and he’s not going to stop until he’s done so in every possible way he can. I stick my hand in my boxer briefs and pull on my cock. Fantasy Kalle starts by telling me what a good boy I am and kisses me. Then Fantasy Kalle puts me on my knees. Fantasy Kalle strokes that delicious cock that I wish I’d gotten a glimpse of, making it hard and proud. Like him.
Then Fantasy Kalle tells me to open up. He has me lick his cock up and down while he groans. Fantasy Kalle has me put a thumb in his ass while he shoves his cock in my face. He orders me, in that royal way, to suck him, lick him, drive him to the edge but not let him come. Then he fucks my face hard while my eyes tear up. My throat is sore. My jaw hurts.
And I love every second of it. When Fantasy Kalle is about to come, he tells me to strip. Then he has me on my stomach while he rims me.
I’m stroking harder now.
Fantasy Kalle spits in my hole. He loosens me until I’m writhing under him. Then he lubes up and presses in.
Oh, fuck. I’m going to come. But no, I have to let Fantasy Kalle fuck me first.
Fantasy Kalle starts off gentle and lets me get used to him. But then we get a rhythm going, and nothing can stop Fantasy Kalle from giving me the best sex of my life. From using me hard but not too hard. From nailing my prostate. Making me want to come. Making me moan. Absolutely dominating me. Fantasy Kalle is everything I’ve ever wanted in a man.
And when Fantasy Kalle makes me come … I come in real spurts of hot semen until I almost black out.
Fantasy Kalle is allowed to have his way with me. But real Kalle can never know.
I pull up my pants and shiver as I exit the tent. I wash my hands off with a splash from my water bottle, and when I return to the tent, Kalle has turned over.
I really hope he didn’t hear me. Even though it’s a shame he can’t know what he did to me in my dreams. Because it was really hot.
When I wake up, I’m pressed against Kalle and have to carefully extract myself. I slept rather horribly. All I could think about was that I was sharing space with him, and it made me too excited. Still, at some point, I managed to fall asleep.
In the early dawn, Kalle sleeps with his back to me, his head resting on his bicep. I try not to jostle him, but when I stir, he wakes anyway.
He turns over and blinks his big, brown eyes, and when he sees my face, he smiles. It’s the softest, most unguarded smile I’ve ever seen on him. Even softer than the one he uses with the smallest animals.
“Hey,” he says, his voice croaky with sleep.
“Morning.”
My mind is filled with the memory of his hand moving in the dark, getting himself off. And then my own Fantasy Kalle. My cheeks burn, and I turn away. “Sleep okay?” I mutter into theground, turning onto my stomach so he can’t see my morning wood.
“Uh-huh,” he says. “Thanks for sharing the tent. It was much warmer than out in the wind.”
“No problem.”
“I’ll, uh, just get up,” he says.
Wait. He’s stalling as much as I am. He must have the same chub that I do.
This is delightful, in the most aching way. I flop over so my back is to him. He can have some privacy.
After a moment, he extracts himself from our blankets and unzips the tent, letting in the cool morning air. It feels good, though. He mostly slept in his clothes, so all he has to do is put on his boots. He does so and steps outside. “I’ll be back in a moment,” he says.
“Okay.”
Should I jack off again while he goes and takes a leak?
