Primal Tempest of Flesh
Caught in the fury of a mountain storm, Ethan trudged back to the isolated cabin, his muscles aching from the brutal hike. Links for the depths ahead: Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5 | Jump to Chapter 6 🔥
Chapter 1: Shadows of the Storm
Rain lashed the pines like whips from an angry god, turning the dirt road into a river of mud. Ethan cursed under his breath, his broad shoulders heaving as he shouldered his pack. The construction gig up in the Rockies had wrapped early—too early, thanks to the freak blizzard dumping snow faster than his crew could bolt steel. No flights out, roads closed, just him and a seven-mile slog back to the cabin where he’d left Lara two days ago. She’d begged him to join sooner, but work was work. Now, surprise would be his gift, or so he thought.
The air bit cold and metallic, pine sap thick in his nostrils mixing with the wet earth smell rising from the ground. His boots squelched with every step, thighs burning, heart pounding not just from exertion but a low hum of anticipation. Lara’s texts had been flirty, teasing—photos of her in that skimpy tank top by the fire, curves glowing amber. She’d mentioned her old college roommate, Brooke, dropping by for the weekend. “Girl talk and wine,” she’d said. Nothing primal about that, right?
As the cabin’s lantern light flickered through the trees, Ethan slowed. Laughter spilled out—husky, throaty, laced with something raw. Not the giggly chatter he’d imagined. He crept closer, snow muffling his approach, pulse quickening. The door was ajar, steam from the woodstove curling into the night. He eased it open, boots silent on the threshold, shedding his jacket in the shadows of the mudroom.
Up the loft stairs he went, wood creaking faintly under his weight. That’s when the sounds hit him full force: a gasp, wet and desperate, followed by a low growl. Ethan’s gut twisted, but so did something lower—his cock twitching against his jeans, unbidden. He peered around the railing, breath shallow.
Lara sprawled on the king-sized bed, quilts kicked to the floor, her lithe body arched like a bowstring. Golden hair fanned wild across the pillows, sweat-slick skin flushed pink from the fire’s glow. Between her thighs knelt Brooke—tall, inked firecracker with cropped crimson hair and piercings glinting on her full breasts. No yoga mat bullshit here; Brooke’s mouth was buried in Lara’s slick folds, tongue delving deep, lapping with a hunger that made Ethan’s mouth go dry.
“Oh fuck, right there,” Lara moaned, her voice breaking husky. Fingers tangled in Brooke’s hair, pulling her closer, hips bucking. The scent hit him then—musky arousal thick as fog, mingled with woodsmoke and the faint tang of bourbon from half-empty glasses on the nightstand. Ethan’s hand drifted to his zipper without thought, hardness straining, a bead of pre-cum soaking through.
Chapter 2: The Savage Gaze
Brooke’s ass swayed with each plunge of her tongue, tattoos of snarling wolves rippling across her back. Lara’s thighs quivered, clamped around Brooke’s ears, her breaths coming in ragged bursts. Ethan froze, half-hidden by the stair shadows, but his eyes drank it in—every slick slide, every shudder. Primal instinct surged through him, that base animal drive to claim, to watch, to join the frenzy.
Brooke pulled back, lips glistening, chin smeared with Lara’s essence. “Taste like fucking sin,” she murmured, voice gravelly, crawling up to capture Lara’s mouth. Their kiss was feral, tongues battling, teeth nipping—Lara’s hands roaming Brooke’s curves, pinching hardened nipples until Brooke hissed. Brooke’s fingers replaced her mouth, three plunging into Lara’s heat, twisting, stretching. Wet schlicking sounds filled the room, obscene against the storm’s howl outside.
Lara broke the kiss, head lolling. “Deeper… make it hurt so good.” Her eyes—storm-gray and wild—flitted toward the stairs. Locked on Ethan. Time fractured. Shock? Rage? No. A wicked smile curled her lips, even as her walls clenched around Brooke’s invading digits. She didn’t scream alarm. Instead, her free hand snaked between Brooke’s thighs, parting swollen lips, thumb circling a pierced clit.
Ethan’s cock throbbed, freed now into his fist, veins pulsing hot. He stroked slow at first, matching their rhythm, the sight burning into his brain. Lara’s gaze held his, challenging, inviting. “Yes… fuck, I’m gonna…” Her body seized, back bowing off the bed, a gush flooding Brooke’s hand, soaking sheets. Squirting, messy, primal release that made Ethan’s balls tighten.
Brooke laughed low, withdrawing drenched fingers to suck them clean. “Greedy girl.” Then she followed Lara’s stare, twisting. Surprise flashed in her green eyes, but it melted to mischief. “Well, hello there. Room for one more in this storm?”
Lara propped on elbows, breasts heaving. “Get that beast over here, Ethan. We’ve been waiting for the real thunder.” 💋
Chapter 3: Claiming the Fire
Ethan didn’t hesitate. Pants shoved down muscled thighs, he stalked forward, cock jutting thick and angry, tip weeping. The cabin air hummed electric, fire crackling like applause. Lara’s scent enveloped him—salty-sweet nectar, her skin damp and fever-hot as he loomed over the bed.
Brooke shifted first, knees spreading wide, exposing her shaved mound, lips puffy and begging. “Paint me, big boy.” But Lara grabbed his shaft, guiding it to her mouth first. Lips stretched around his girth, tongue swirling the salty bead, moaning vibration straight to his core. Ethan groaned, threading fingers through her hair, thrusting shallow—watching Brooke finger herself lazy, eyes hooded.
“Fuck her throat,” Brooke urged, pinching her own nipples. Ethan obliged, hips snapping primal, balls slapping Lara’s chin. Gags turned to eager slurps, saliva dripping. Brooke dove under, lapping at Lara’s folds while tonguing Ethan’s sack on the upstroke. Sensory overload: wet heat sucking, cool air on his ass, the slap of flesh, bourbon tang on Lara’s breath.
He pulled out, strings of spit connecting. “On your knees, both of you.” They obeyed, asses up—Lara’s pert and pale, Brooke’s freckled and marked with a tramp stamp of thorns. Ethan gripped Lara’s hips, slamming home in one brutal thrust. Her cry muffled into the pillow, walls fluttering velvet vice. He pounded relentless, hand fisting her hair, the bedframe rattling against log walls.
Brooke wiggled closer, grinding against Lara’s thigh. “My turn.” Ethan switched, Brooke’s heat tighter, pierced clit bumping his shaft with every drive. She pushed back savage, nails raking sheets. “Harder—make me feel it in my guts.” Lara watched, fingers buried in her own cunt, then leaned to kiss Brooke sloppy, sharing tastes.
Ethan’s control frayed, hips pistoning like a machine. “Gonna flood you,” he growled. Brooke clenched, milking him. He roared primal, pulling out to erupt—ropes of thick cum splattering her ass, dripping down to her puckered hole. Lara dove in, tongue lapping his seed, rimming Brooke while fingering the mess into her.
Exhaustion tugged, but firelight danced on their sweat-sheened bodies. No words yet—just heavy breaths, touches lingering tender.
Chapter 4: Depths of the Wild
Dawn clawed through shutters, gray light filtering snow-dusted windows. Ethan woke sandwiched—Lara’s head on his chest, Brooke’s leg hooked over his thigh. Bodies sticky, air heavy with dried sex and pine. But hunger stirred, not just stomachs. Lara’s hand trailed his hardening length. “Round two? Or three?”
They tumbled out laughing, raiding the kitchen nude. Coffee brewed black, eggs sizzling with butter’s hiss. Brooke fed Lara a strip of bacon from her fingers, licking grease slow. Ethan’s cock tented the table edge. “Storm’s easing. Woods call.”
Outside, fresh powder crunched underfoot, breath fogging crisp air. Naked in the primal chill, they stumbled to a clearing—evergreens bowing under white burdens, untouched snow like a blank canvas. Cold pebbled nipples, shrank sacs tight, but heat built fast.
Brooke dropped first, knees sinking snow, pulling Ethan down. His mouth claimed her breasts, sucking hard enough to bruise while Lara knelt behind, tongue probing his ass—hot, insistent. Winds whispered through branches, flakes melting on fevered skin. Ethan flipped Brooke to all fours, mounting like a beast, snow flying from impacts. Her moans echoed off hills, raw animal calls.
Lara straddled Brooke’s back, facing him—cunt grinding tattooed skin. “Fuck us both,” she demanded. Ethan withdrew, slick with Brooke’s cream, plunging into Lara. Alternating strokes, building frenzy. Brooke’s fingers found Lara’s ass, one slipping in, then two—stretching, scissoring.
The cold amplified every touch—numb toes contrasting fiery friction. Ethan’s primal roar shattered quiet as he pumped deep into Lara, flooding her core. She spasmed, gushing over Brooke’s hand. Collapsing in a heap, snow melting around them warm, they lay tangled, laughing breathless. Steam rose like sacrifice smoke.
Chapter 5: Fissures and Flames
Back inside, fire rebuilt roaring. Bodies wrapped in blankets, whiskey burning trails down throats. Silence settled heavy, the night’s frenzy replaying. Ethan sipped slow, watching Lara trace Brooke’s ink. “How long?” No accusation—just curiosity laced raw.
Lara met his eyes, vulnerability cracking her bravado. “Since college summers. But this… you watching? Fuck, it unlocked something primal in me.” Brooke nodded, fingers interlacing theirs. “Thought you’d freak. But damn, your hunger matched ours.”
Tension uncoiled into touches—soft now, exploratory. Ethan pulled Lara close, lips brushing ear. “Seeing you surrender like that? Hottest thing ever.” Brooke joined, hands roaming his chest scars from old site falls. Kisses bloomed lazy, tongues tasting whiskey-sweet.
Clothes shed again, they migrated to the clawfoot tub steaming from hot water Lara had drawn. Bubbles foamed scented eucalyptus sharp. Ethan sank first, Lara on his lap—his thickness nudging her entrance underwater. Slow sink, water displacing slosh. Brooke sponged their backs, soap slick sliding nipples.
Underwater thrusts built waves lapping tub edges. Lara rode languid, breasts bouncing, while Brooke knelt rim—tongue circling where they joined, fingers teasing Ethan’s balls submerged. Pressure mounted, water churning froth. “Come with me,” Lara gasped, nails digging his shoulders.
They shattered together—her clenching milking jets from him, Brooke lapping overflow bubbling up. After, they lounged boneless, fingers tracing lazy patterns, storm fully passed outside. Windows showed sun glinting virgin snow.
Chapter 6: Echoes of the Beast
Afternoon waned golden, packing slow amidst reluctant touches. Ethan hefted bags, muscles rippling under flannel. Lara lingered by the bed, sheets still rumpled witness. “This changes nothing… or everything?” Her voice soft, uncertainty flickering.
Brooke hugged her fierce. “Changes for the feral better. Primal bonds don’t break easy.” Ethan pulled them both close, sandwiching Brooke between. “Back home, we explore. No secrets, just raw truth.”
Drive down wound through melting drifts, cab heated humming low. Hands roamed seats—Lara’s on Ethan’s thigh, Brooke’s in her lap. Stops turned detours: pull-off with windows fogged, frantic fucks on hoods—cold metal biting backs, pines scenting air, cries lost to wind.
Home loomed familiar yet transformed. That night, master bath echoed new moans—Ethan fisting Brooke slow while Lara licked his shaft protruding. Stretched wide, Brooke babbled filth: “Rip me primal, fill every hole.” Lara’s turn next, ass high, Ethan buried balls-deep anal while Brooke’s strap-on mirrored in her cunt. Double stuffed, she wailed, squirting arcs hitting mirrors.
Days blurred: Brooke stayed weeks, jobs flexing. Workouts primal—sweat-soaked grapples on mats, ending pinned fucks. Kitchen counters bore scratches from nails during bent-over railings. Even hikes mirrored cabin—woods alive with their grunts.
Guilt? Fleeting shadows. Desire won, primal core bared. Ethan watched them sometimes, stroking silent, joining feral. Lara confessed dreams once: “You lurking edges unlocks me.” Brooke grinned, “We’re pack now.”
Months on, tattoos matched—wolves entwined on hips. Lives wove tighter, sex tapestry endless. Storms came metaphorical—arguments flaring hot, resolved sweatier. Primal tempest birthed enduring flame, flesh’s honest language spoken fluent. 💋🔥
Their hunger, once storm-bound, now roamed free—untamed, unbreakable.
