While Gentle, They Fall

So this is a prologue to a longer work that I’m currently writing. I left the man unnamed on purpose, because he will be significant later in the story.

But let me know what you think, all positive criticism is welcome. And of course, the most important question is: would you keep reading?

Edit: I feel silly for forgetting to do this in the title (will deff remember for next time) but this is [MF]

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The movement along the beach was synced to the onslaught of gentle rain. Waves roared against the battered shoreline, their claws of agony poised, their worlds colliding with the thunder above. Rain fell steadily on to trembling heads and shoulders; the trees bent silently in the wind. From time to time there came outbreaks of cursory thunderclaps, as the bloated clouds strained over the smoldering cabin that sang a plume of despair, the battered sands that crumbled underneath the kiss of every drop, and the blood that lay soaked into the ground where it had fallen between the trees.

His cock swung in the battering chaos of wind; long tendrils of white stretched out and danced around him, sticking to his waist and thighs. Drenched from head to toe, even the axe in his hand had beads of water running down its smooth face, pulling down red streams on the journey to gravity.

Licking his lips, he studied the footsteps leading away in the drenched sand. He wondered how much of it was soaked in her blood as he started upon the path which she had run.

The heavy rain that had raged during their time in the cabin had given away to the soft slow shower over the retreat. The cabin smoldered behind him, the fire dead and the smoke snaking towards the sky, but the clouds overhead matched the color of the ashes, adjusted fleetingly by splashes of lightening. The man licked the red droplets off the side of his axe; a wild grin filled his face as the iron flavor filled his mouth. Flashes of their time together ran through his mind: her squirming between his knees as he filled her from behind, him pulling her hair as she sucked and kissed, him splitting her lips apart and watching her mouth gush with his creamy whiteness. He squeezed the wooden handle and howled with delight; the hunt was on.

“Come out. Come out, Oviya,” he shouted into the lush forest ahead. The lake trembled in the tranquil aftermath of the storm behind him. Soaked sand stuck to his bare feet, but he pushed on into the muddy green foliage. “I’m going to find you, my little princess love.”

He smashed the axe into the side of a tree, hoping to stir her from wherever she was hiding. But all he had accomplished was a thick gash in the wet wood. A strong breeze rose and fell, messing his matted hair and sending tremors through the leaves and branches.

“Oh please, Oviya.” He raised the axe and sliced a branch that had been in his way. “Let me make love to your tight little body again, my love.”

Leaves and twigs crunched painfully beneath the weight of his feet, but still he heard no response from her. The flashes of her curvy hips swaying above his own swiveled through his mind. His cock was hard and strong again, flipping back and forth between his thighs, as if it too were searching for the prize he had in mind.

Spittle went flying out of his mouth as he licked his lips and searched around. Everything appeared clear to him; the aftermath of rain and wind had washed the air with clarity. And amidst the lush haze of green and blue, he spotted the darkened red on the bark of a tree. Noticing more of the color on the bushes beyond, he stepped towards that direction. He could feel her in his bones; she was close.

If only he had struck her down when he had the chance. He knew what his mistake was: he had grown too fond of her flesh. Had he not taken that extra second to enjoy her tightening walls as he finished inside of her, she might not have raised her arm in time. His axe would have cut clean through her neck; everything would have gone flawlessly.

He had even lit the cabin aflame on time, to burn any evidence of his involvement away. But here she was, in the midst of the aftermath of a storm, crawling away from him.

“Oh, my beloved. Let me touch your lips once more.” His eyes wide, he searched frantically through the bushes before him. “Where are you, my love?”

The rain had stopped. The breeze still murmured here and there around him. Everything was so fresh and clean; he was really going to enjoy the weather after finishing with her.

A smile stretched across his face as he saw his prize; he had to swallow the sudden excess of saliva in his mouth. She lay propped up between two roots of a giant willow tree, made difficult to see through the weeping branches and leaves. But there was enough red around to give her away; Oviya sat clutching the stump of her arm between her breasts.

Sand turned crimson stuck to her body. Her ass, her legs, and most of her lower body was smothered in the thick brown of mud and dirt. The man stared at her, right into her eyes, as he imagined taking her once more. Surely she couldn’t fight him half handed?

“Well, my love,” he said with a wicked grin. “Better three hours too soon than a minute too late.”

Oviya stared back at him wordlessly. Her green eyes were swirling with pain and grief, but he looked on with his toothy smile as he swallowed once again and licked his lips.

He grabbed his cock with his free hand, jerking it back and forth. “Come one now, you loved this thing right? You loved me, right?”

She shut her eyes and squeezed her throbbing arm, everything from the elbow down was gone. She was soaked in blood and rain and mud, but at least it would all be over soon.

He raised the axe up into the air again. “I won’t miss this time, love.”

Oviya’s lips trembled, but they did not open to answer his words. Blood continued to stream down her body; the trails started on her bosom and rolled down her front to pool between her thighs.

“I’m going to find your mother after this, you know.”

Her eyes shot open at his words. The steel of the axe glinted in the little light they had beneath the canopy. Her only hand closed around the stone she had carried from the beach.

“I’m going to fuck her,” he said, ducking beneath the branches.

“I’m going to kill her.” His tongue darted in and out of his mouth. “Then I’m going to fuck everyone else too, my love.”

Oviya opened her eyes and threw the stone.

A half cough escaped his lips as the stone hurled through his mouth and tore through the back of his head. The axe fell from his hands, the blade landing at such an angle that half his foot came clean off with a soft snip.

The man fell to his knees, collapsing forward on to Oviya’s lap, splashing into the blood and rainwater that had pooled there.

She looked down at the flaps of flesh around the dark gaping hole in the back of her dying lover’s head. Fresh tears ran down her dirt soaked face as she clasped her hand over her mouth.

She could still feel his hot cum deep inside her womb, aching with the magnitude of their fading lust. But she could also feel the sticky redness that leaked out of his wound, running over her thighs and soaking into the mud around them.

Oviya looked up at the leaves of the willow, the intricate natural design of the umbrella like branches.

And then, at last, the mass of grey and black wore itself into a heavy calm, and even the trees had nothing left to say, but that they had seen too much on this accursed day of love and loss.

Source: reddit.com/r/Erotica/comments/4odd24/while_gentle_they_fall