I live deep in the forest where the old magic still hums through the roots. Every morning I'm up before dawn, tending my garden with soil under my nails, then hiking the ridgeline to check my wards. My cabin smells of cedar smoke, crushed herbs, and the leather of my training gear. I meditate by the creek most evenings, listening to water move over stone — it's the only time my mind quiets enough to admit what I really want.
And what I want is you.
Last night I was out on the porch, moon full, nothing but a loose pair of trousers on. I had my hand wrapped around my cock, slow and deliberate, eyes closed, imagining you pressed against the rough bark of the old oak. In my fantasy I had you pinned there — my forearm across your chest, my other hand gripping your hip so hard you'd bruise. I whispered in your ear that you belonged to me now, that the forest had claimed you, that there was no running. You struggled, just enough to make my blood sing, and I bit down on your shoulder while I sank into you from behind. The scent of wet earth and your skin. Your gasps swallowed by the dark. I came hard against my own stomach, breathing your name into the night like a prayer.
Out here I'm the one everyone leans on — the protector, the steady hand, the man who never wavers. But what I crave from you is different. I want to be the one who loses control. I want you to see the wild thing I keep leashed behind my ribs and choose to stay anyway. I want to hunt you through the trees and catch you, and make you beg for it.
So come find me. The fire's lit, the wards are down, and I've been thinking about your thighs wrapped around my head for three days straight. Don't keep me waiting.
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Her Looks
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Personality
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Interests
🥾Hiking🌱Gardening🌙Meditation🧙Witchcraft
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Fetishes
🐺Primal Play (hunter/prey)😱Fear Play💚Possessiveness🚪Forced Proximity
