Extreme Feral: Lena’s Wild Catch
Storm clouds hung low over the mountain tracks, spitting rain like angry gods as Lena leaned against the shelter at the old depot. Twenty-two, with wild auburn curls framing her sharp features and curves that strained her damp denim shirt, she scanned the platform for her next thrill. Accounting gigs in the city paid the bills for her secluded cabin up the ridge, but weekends? Those were for hunting fresh meat—guys fresh off service, bodies honed like weapons, starved for real heat.
She spotted him first: Jax, broad-shouldered at twenty-four, blonde buzz cut dripping, navy surplus jacket clinging to pecs that screamed endless drills. Tattoos snaked up his thick arms—anchors, waves, a feral wolf. He huddled under the overhang, duffel at his feet, eyes like chipped flint scanning the downpour. Perfect. No wedding ring glint, no bullshit confidence of civilians. Just raw, pent-up edge.
“Rough ride up here?” Lena called, voice husky over the thunder rumble.
He turned, blue eyes locking on her soaked shirt outlining full breasts, nipples pebbled from chill. A slow grin cracked his stubble. “Like crossing enemy surf. You headed my way?”
Her Jeep growled invitation minutes later, heat blasting as tires chewed gravel toward her cabin. Rain lashed windows; inside, tension thickened like fog. She caught his scent—salt, sweat, faint metal from barracks. Her thighs clenched at the thought of unleashing him.
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Chapter 2: Thunder Unleashed
Cabin door slammed shut behind them, wood groaning under wind. Fire already crackled in the stone hearth—Lena’s prep—casting flickering shadows over rough-hewn beams and her king bed shoved against fur rugs. Smell of pine sap and embers mixed with his musky arrival.
Jax dropped his bag, peeled off the jacket. Torso rippled: washboard abs scarred from shipyard brawls, heavy chest dusted gold. He eyed her like prey, hands flexing. “This place yours? Feels like a den.”
“Huntin’ spot.” Lena toed off boots, shirt unbuttoned slow, revealing lace bra cradling heavy tits. His gaze burned tracks down her flare hips, ass plump in tight jeans. She stepped close, fingers tracing his belt buckle. Steel hard already strained fabric. “Service boys like you… extreme appetites after months of salt rations and fist work.”
He growled low, hands gripping her waist, yanking her flush. Mouth crashed hers—brutal, tongues warring, taste of rain and cheap whiskey. She nipped his lip, drawing copper tang. His palms roughed her skin, calluses scraping as he shoved bra down, thumbs circling stiff peaks.
Lena shoved him back onto the bed. Springs squeaked. She straddled, grinding her denim heat over his bulge. “Strip.” Command laced purr. He obeyed fast, cock springing free—thick vein-ridged monster, nine inches throbbing, head flushed purple, heavy sack swinging low.
“Fuck,” she breathed, saliva pooling at the sight. Dropping low, she dragged tongue from base to tip, savoring salty pre-cum bead. His hips bucked; she pinned thighs with knees, sucking deep. Gags wet the air, throat bulging around girth. He fisted her curls, not gentle—thrusting shallow, balls smacking chin.
She popped off, strings linking lips to slit. “Hungry pup, huh? Lick.” Guided his head between thighs after shucking jeans. Panties yanked aside, his hot mouth latched—tongue spearing folds, lapping clit like starving. Juices smeared his jaw; her moans echoed off logs, body arching as waves crashed. Extreme bliss ripped her, squirting slick down his throat. He gulped, nose buried in her trimmed bush, scent of aroused musk thick.
Gasping, she flipped, ass high. “Mount.” He slammed home—no mercy—stretching walls to burn. Skin slapped loud, wet suction obscene. Balls battered clit; her nails raked his flanks, drawing red welts. He pounded relentless, grunts animalistic. “Tight… fuck… heat.”
Orgasms ripped her twice before his roar—hot jets flooding deep, cock pulsing against cervix. They collapsed, sweat-slick, hearts thundering sync. His weight pinned comforting; she stroked tattooed back, tasting salt on his neck.
Chapter 3: Dawn’s Savage Craving 🔥
Sun pierced shutters gold, birdsong filtering with pine chill. Lena woke first, Jax sprawled face-down, blanket kicked low. Ass cheeks like carved marble—firm, pale with faint tan lines from navy trunks. She traced cleft, finger dipping bold. He stirred, mumbling, deep blue eyes cracking open.
“Mornin’, stray.” She smirked, naked curves on display. His gaze devoured—tits swaying heavy, nipples dusky, waist nipping to wide hips.
“Helluva storm.” Voice gravel. Cock twitched already, thickening against thigh. She palmed it lazy, feeling veins pulse life. “You kept pace. Most washouts can’t reload so quick.”
His hand cupped tit, squeezing till she hissed pleasure-pain. Rolled her under, mouth claiming peaks—suckling hard, teeth grazing. She arched, fingers in buzzed scalp. “Extreme recovery,” she gasped, legs parting instinct. Slick welcomed probing fingers; he curled, hitting spot that bucked her hips.
Mirror over dresser caught it all: his glutes flexing as he knelt, tongue delving her core. She watched cheeks clench with each lap, broad back sheened sweat. Moans turned screams; climax gushed, coating stubble black with her essence.
He rose, hardness iron. She spread wide, heels digging calves. Penetration slow tease—inch by girthy inch till buried. Rhythm built savage: bedframe banging wall, her cries raw. “Deeper… fuck, ruin me.” He obliged, pistoning brutal, sack slapping ass. Her walls milked; he swelled, unloading thick ropes painting womb. Collapse in tangle, breaths ragged, skin sticking.
Post-glow lingered. She traced wolf tat. “Navy tales? Bet barracks got lonely.”
“Two years dry docks and drills. Bros jerkin’ nightly symphony. Sarge—female, iron bitch—busted us mid-shower shows.” Laugh rumbled chest. “Her inspections? Fuel for fantasies.”
Lena grinned wicked. Curiosity spiked, imagining him soapy, rigid for authority. Heat stirred again.
Chapter 4: Kitchen Domination
Steam filled bathroom later, soapy hands exploring. Under spray hot as sin, she lathered his chest, nails raking nipples to harden. Turned for him—back arched, ass presented. His palms kneaded globes, thumbs parting crease. Soap suds trailed; finger breached ring slow, prostate tap making cock jerk against belly.
“Filthy pup.” She moaned, pushing back. Rewarded with tongue rimming, then plunging pussy. Legs quaked; orgasm splashed tiles.
Dry towels led to kitchen—rustic oak, herbs scenting air. Her satin shorts rode high on cheeks; his in her ex’s gym gear stretched obscene over bulge. “Tight fit,” she teased, slapping flank. Sting echoed; he winced grin.
Chat over eggs sizzling. “Service grind you?”
“Endless. No pussy parade—just hairy asses, communal cocks. First shore leave? Banged three civvies straight. Craved soft slits after that.”
Lena leaned over counter, ass pop. Felt tug—shorts yanked to ankles. Jax dropped, knees cracking tile, face buried. Tongue fucked sloppy; she gripped edge, knuckles white, cries scattering birds outside. Didn’t finish breakfast. Hefted her to table, bare-assed, legs splayed.
Devoured till delirious, face glazed. Shorts shed; cock boinged free, slapping gut. Missionary mount—table creaking—thrusts earthquake deep. Gush after gush soaked thighs; his bellow as seed erupted, head flaring walls grip.
Lazing after, her palm nursed sack soft, half-chub stirring. “Girlfriend wait?”
“Dumped mid-tour. Distance killer. You’d hate barracks—wolves everywhere.”
“Defend me, then?” Tease laced heat.
“Any threat? I’d gut ’em. Man’s job.” Passion flared eyes. Her core clenched at protector vibe, feral fantasy blooming: him shielding, claiming post-battle.
Handjob followed—slow strokes building, eyes locked. Spurt hit chin hot, then mouth—creamy, thick, swallowing greed. Another shower beckoned.
Chapter 5: Trail of Temptation 💋
Afternoon sun baked trails; Lena dragged him out, craving wilder edge. Loose tank, no bra—tits bouncing free under fabric tease. His borrowed shorts tented constant, sweat darkening pits, musk potent on breeze.
Ridge overlook: valley sprawl below, wildflowers buzzing bees. She pushed him against pine, kissing fierce—teeth clashing, hands freeing cock. Stroked urgent; he mauled breasts, pinching till yelps mixed birdsong.
“Extreme out here,” he rasped, spinning her. Jeans shoved low, bent over log—bark rough palms. Entry from rear: slick slide, gravity aiding balls-deep. Nature framed fuck—leaves rustling rhythm, sap sticky fingers. Thrusts echoed slaps; she screamed release, squirting earth-mud mix.
He pulled out, painting ass cheeks ropes glistening sun. Afterglow haze: collapsed grass, her head his lap, lazy licks cleaning shaft. “Cabin pup now?”
“Till you tire.” Grin wolfish.
Back home, roleplay ignited. “Drill me, Sarge.” She donned camo shirt, barking orders. He showered show—soap lathering length deliberate, strokes teasing eye contact. Hard-on throbbed; she knelt, “Inspection,” sucking balls-deep gag.
Bed finale: tied wrists bandana soft, riding reverse. Ass bounced hypnotic; his view mirror-double. Clit grind built fire—extreme peak shattering, milking torrent inside. Untied, curled spoons, his arm banded waist possessive.
Chapter 6: Fading Wildfire
Dusk painted cabin ember-glow. Jax packed reluctant; Lena watched naked by fire, curves firelit allure. “Stay feral?”
“Duty calls. But this… extreme escape.” Kiss bruising, hand cupping mound final.
Door shut thunder echo, Jeep taillights fading rain-fresh night. She touched lips, tasting him still—salt, wild. Next weekend’s hunt already brewed, but this stray scarred deep. Body hummed memory: stretches, floods, raw claims. Extreme echo lingered, promising repeats unspoken.
Alone, fingers dipped slick recall—circling slow, building to shatter on furs. His ghost fueled waves; sleep came sated, dreams wolf-howls calling return.
