Jory Strong: Spirit Flight

Marisa was helpless against Ukiah's sensual assault. There was no protest in her mind. No thought other than to invite him further into her body, their movements synchronized to his sucking, so subtle that the water barely rippled and yet each tiny thrust sent shards of white-hot pleasure through her clit. Each slide of his penis over desperately hungry internal muscles starved her for more. Their connection was so intense, so profound, that he became everything that mattered to her. And with a cry, orgasm ripped from the deepest part of her. A place that had never responded to another man like it responded to Ukiah. A place sealed closed until he came into her life.

Ukiah held her to him. The clenching and unclenching of her sheath on his penis exquisite agony as he savored the gift she was giving him, tried to make it last. Succeeded until she went limp in his arms, rung out from her pleasure, her channel snug and hot and wet, issuing an invitation he could no longer ignore. A siren's call that roared through him, making him pant and thrust and fill her womb with his seed.

He carried her back to the other room, laughing when she said, «Despite your having to carry me here when you found me, I can walk now,» her voice light, happy.

«I enjoy carrying you,» he said, placing her on the furs so she was seated with her back to the fire, then taking a moment to get a comb before kneeling behind her.

Marisa gave a low moan of pleasure when Ukiah began working with her hair, gently untangling it, the teeth of the comb lightly scraping over her back. «How close are we to where I fell?»

«If your handhold hadn't given way you might have seen the cave once you traveled several yards further. But you wouldn't have been able to get to it from where you started climbing.»

«You were here?»

«No. But I arrived shortly after you must have fallen.»

A tremor went through her as she remembered. «It was storming.»

«It's still storming outside.»

She cocked her head but heard nothing. «Was I unconscious when you got to me?»

He hesitated, a barely imperceptible pause. «Yes.»

Marisa almost lost her nerve then chided herself as he leaned forward and one of his braids brushed against her arm. «Before I blacked out I imagined a thunderbird swooping down on me. He had eyes like yours.» She reached over and stroked a bright feather with its bands of red, white and black, its subtle splashes of blue and yellow. «He had feathers that looked like this one.»

Ukiah stopped combing her hair and leaned forward to rub his cheek against her hair and nuzzle her ear, to suck the lobe into his mouth. «You are on Thunderbird land.»

Marisa smiled, letting herself be distracted by thoughts of the totem poles she'd passed. Accepting that it didn't matter whether she'd seen Ukiah and imposed a thunderbird form on him, or whether she'd been hallucinating.

«Do you know anything about the totem poles?»

Ukiah sucked her earlobe again and made her breath catch. His free hand went around to cup and fondle her breast, sending a rush of arousal to coat her inner thighs. «The poles near the No Trespassing signs?» he teased.

She found she could laugh. «Yes, those.»

«I made them.»

She gasped and tried to turn, but his hand at her breast made it impossible. «They're beautiful. Are you a sculptor?» She laughed again. «Silly question. I mean, is that what you do for a living? Though of course, art is so much more. I'd still create even if no one bought a single one of my paintings.»

He nibbled the side of her neck before pressing a kiss to her skin and shifting to resume combing her hair. «I carve in the winter, as a hobby, though my family members manage to sneak some of my work from the lodge and offer it for sale in town.»

Marisa's turned her head, yipping when the comb snagged and pulled her hair. «How in the world do they sneak away with totem poles?»

He laughed. «Most of my carvings are animals. Miniatures that can be easily concealed in a purse or jacket pocket.»

«I'd like to see them,» she said, tensing involuntarily, suddenly feeling awkward about the situation. About reality outside the cave. Outside this emergency dictated interlude.

«Marisa.» His voice was a caress as he set the comb down and pulled her back to his front. Kissed along her shoulder, the hand which had been holding the comb going to her belly, burning through to her womb in a gesture of possessiveness and assurance. «I found you and I intend to keep you.»

His hand dipped lower, cupping her mound, his fingers sliding into her slit. His palm pressing against her clit, moving in slow circles so that she whimpered and moaned. Soaked him with her arousal as she responded to his touch.

He made a guttural sound and leaned into her, used his weight against her back to force her forward onto her hands and knees. And then onto her elbows and knees with her buttocks raised, her thighs spread to reveal swollen, wet, woman's flesh.

She shivered at how vulnerable the position made her feel. The very awareness of her vulnerability making her labia grow more flushed. Making her clit strain, erect and full, the hood pulled back, desperate for his attention.

«You are beautiful, Marisa,» Ukiah whispered, kissing the base of her spine, his fingers gliding over her slick folds, circling her clit and making her cry out.

She pressed into his hand, rubbed herself on his tormenting fingers, her breath coming in short pants accompanied by low moans. «Please,» she begged, «please.» And even though she couldn't see him, she could feel the impact of her words on him in the way his touch became more dominant, more aggressive. In the way the tension seemed to fill the cave, a primal energy that made her feel as though a huge presence loomed behind her.

Marisa jerked when he entered her. His cock slamming home in one rough thrust of ownership. His hands going to her hips to hold her in position as he began thrusting. The force of him plunging in and out of her driving the breath from her lungs in screams that signaled a mix of pleasure and pain, an exquisite, all-consuming acceptance of what he was to her.

Tears formed in her eyes and the shadows dancing on the wall in front of her blurred and blended, took the shape of a thunderbird with its wings outspread, flapping in time to each thrust of Ukiah's cock, its chest swelling as if with pleasure. The image was so real that she tried to turn her head, only to be stopped by his harsh «no», by his fingers tangling in her hair and preventing her from moving as he pumped even harder into her. The rhythm of his claiming becoming a nearly unbearable ecstasy until orgasm rolled over her, extreme and powerful, filling her as completely as his hot release filled her channel, rushing toward her like the giant shadow of the thunderbird and taking her with it into the primordial darkness.

For long moments Ukiah panted and shivered above Marisa's limp form, his cock still buried in her heated depths, his body weak even as the thunderbird's triumphant exaltation roared through him.

She was pregnant now. With his child. With the thunderbird's.

If they'd met under different circumstances Ukiah would have waited. Would have married her first and moved her into the lodge which served as both his house and his source of income. Would have let her accustom herself to her new life slowly-though he had no fear she would accept and embrace the changes, that she would thrill at what it would mean for her art.

But the choice hadn't been his to make. He walked in the spirit world now. This body a magical manifestation restricted to the cave, a duplicate to house the thunderbird's essence while Ukiah's true physical form lay miles away on a pallet in a sweat building behind his home.