Jungle Island Hijinx! - Part 3

Something isn't quite right.

Ok, so everything actually seems quite alright, except that feeling that something isn't right. That feeling has a weird habit of making reality, uh, unreality? Spooky? Just-off heebie-geebies?

You take stock for the sixth time. You are following a path that leads to food. Otherwise why is there a path? Water from the stream is behind you, and nobody would create a random path to nowhere, right? You keep a sharp lookout and keep a quiet pace. The drone of insects in the background, pierced by a bird call, makes it hard to hear too far around. You continuously keep an eye both ahead and behind like the father of a mischievous child, waiting for their next prank.

At the same time you haven't encountered the reason for your little journey. You can't help but think you really DID hallucinate. You push that thought aside. You have plenty of time for madness later, preferably after a snack or dinner. Too bad your stomach noticed your idle thoughts and decided to interject.

*ggGgrRrrRrRonOo*hehe*nOOonNnonNnn!* The bellow of hunger seems to echo up and down the path.

Alarmed you doublecheck in every direction for signs of something close or different! You can practically hear your heartbeat beating a quicker pace than your feet.

But again, nothing. Just that unsettling feeling again. You fall in line with the trail's procession while you sink back into thought. "How much longer until the end of this trail," you muse.

"Soon."

Seems about right to you. You can clearly see the trail widens, and it looks like it's regularly used. You must be getting close. You try to peer ahead, but too many turns obscure too much further. Well there's no use in rushing things, right? The trail isn't going to disappear, your feet can attest. No use tiring yourself out.

*hehe*

You will be there soon enough, as long as you continue to march forward. Still...

Something isn't quite right.

---

The tunnel is too dark to see far. You strain your eyes trying to see ahead. It's no use. You can only make out the pixie haircut of the girl ahead of you. She leads you through the darkness; her chitinous gloves feel cool intertwined with your fingers. Her sisters (how many?) pass by, each beaming at you or giggling amongst themselves.

At least, you think they're her sisters. It's just so hard to tell them apart. You don't know her name. You've long given up trying. She simply giggles as if it's the funniest inside joke. And so do her sisters. Every time.

And like every time, your insistent companion is tugging you along. The sheen of hard work beads down her neck, giving you an overwhelming scent of what's to cum. Err, come. Spoiler: It's you. The twilight of the tunnels and their maze twists make it impossible to find your way around. You're almost giving up trying to find the exit as well.

Your companion, however, knows exactly where she is going. You might not know your way around, but you DO know each bed chamber is different. Not that the tugging insistence of female need gave you time to take in the surroundings. Your "night" (or day?) is sealed like her grip on your hand.

*SLAM!* Just like that, you've arrived! Your escort tests the firmness of her room's newly closed door by pushing you firmly against it. Just like her sisters, she has superhuman strength that pins you against the door. One hand snakes up to cup the back of your neck and pull you into a fierce kiss; the other wanders slowly down your chest with dark intentions. Her whole body pushes up against you almost instinctively. She wants you bad. Just as suddenly as it started, she abruptly pulls back. A small glimmer of satisfaction crosses her desire-crazed features.

She wastes no time picking you up under your arms and hoisting you to the bedding. In perfectly synchronized moves, she lays you down, strips her gloves, pulls off and hangs her tunic, and snuggles up to lay a few wet kisses on your chest. Her sweat, built up from a hard day in the hot jungle sun, leaves cool little brushes up and down your body as she pulls you close. Her kisses have the slight tang of salt and unbridled girlish need. There's just one damp spot that is decidedly *not* cool, and those lips left a slick trail to it's preferred hunting grounds.

"There's a fire down there," you whisper between kisses, "and only my hose can put it out."

You don't normally make Bad Dad Puns but they always come up Before Dick Penetration. Not that she understands you, or maybe she doesn't get the wordplay. With practiced precision she settles you into place, and her place on you.

Ok, no chasing around the chitin. These girls are DEFINITELY not like your other (limited) experiences. Namely a large shell of a lower body and legs right out of a Sci-Fi movie. You're not sure what's weirder: you're getting fucked by an ant-centaur, or that you are oddly OK with it. You might erase your Browser History, but your mind remembers where you've been. Dirty boy.

Her many legs coil yours. A gentle practiced hand slips between you two as her wet heat kisses up your cock. A little hip lift here. A little firm push of her fingers against the head of your manhood. A ravenous need swallowing your hardness down in one gulp. And like that, she pulls you back close. Her heavy breathing in your ear is interrupted by a gasp. The cute little moan is barely bitten back as her lips worry your ear.

"heee~haaa~"

You let out a groan of your own. Her smell, her kisses, the naughty husky nothings whispered in your ear. Those alone could drive a man insane. But fate wasn't behind the wheel of madness tonight, only the needs of a sex-starved miracle of biology. Her desire was only matched by the expertly rhythmic ministrations designed to make you on fire with sexual need.

"ha" "ha" "haaa~"

You can only hold on. You try to get more leverage, more movement, but she keeps the rhythm. Your strength pales in comparison, so you are helpless to please tonights lover. Not that she seems to mind.

"he~" "ha" "ah~" "Ah!~"

She's not the only one building up a sweat. The sticky-sweet scent of your lovemaking are in every gasp you have, in every greedy inhale you make. You NEED her. You WANT her! And dammit YOU WANT SOME LEVERAGE! Your grunts and exertions are half in need and half in vain attempts to pound this amorous arthropod into the sheets!

"Ah!~" "Hah~" "ah~" "ah" "ha" "ah~Ah!"

No matter what though, you aren't driving tonight. She carefully but firmly pulls you in and out, just enough to saturate your hardness in pleasure with every squeeze.

"Ah!" "HAHh!" "AH!~"

Anon, remember Christmas growing up? Remember how agonizing the wait was? How much worse the wait became the closer the date was? That's you. All you want to do is dive under this cute Christmas tree and rip open her present for you. You want to see the look of happiness when she gives you exactly what you've silently always wanted. You want to see the gasp of joy when you give her your present; the one thing she quietly pleads for. You want to cuddle with her in the afterglow of a well-stoked fire.

"AH!~" "AH!~"

It's white. All you can see is white. All you can hear is her gasps.

"AAAH!~"
"AAAAAHhh!~"
"AAAAAAAHHHHH!~"

The white vision collapses into fireworks as you feel the dam give way. All the pressure, all the pleasure, all the tension shoots down your spine and forces your hips deep against her. Instinctively she pulls you tight, nearly driving the wind from your lungs. Stars dance in your vision as you spasm with every explosion of pleasure.

"HAH!~" "hah~"

You gulp air like a parched man at the oasis. The combined air is saturated with your combined exertions, muddling your mind further into a soft stupor. Only when you've shot your last does she relax her hold on you.

"heh~" "hmmm~"
"mmmhmmm~"

Her heavy content breathing brushes your ear. Each moan signalling her satisfaction. She shifts her body to better snuggle with you. She kisses the sweat from your neck, leaving a pleasant tingling.

"ha~" hrmm~"

You feel yourself growing hard again.