Forest for the Trees

By Alexandra Black

© 2001 All rights reserved.

Janine sat in the driver's seat, both hands on the wheel, engine idling at
the stop sign on the corner. There was no oncoming traffic – it was eleven
at night in the sleepy little one-horse town she'd called home for
twenty-plus years. What held her at that stop sign was hesitation, or maybe
common sense. Did she really want to go through with it? No, strike that –
let's rephrase. Should she go through with it?

Heaven knows wanting it wasn't the issue – oh, she wanted it all right.
This wouldn't be the first time for them, of course – they'd been together a
few times prior to that night.

It had all started as a semi-innocent flirtation (can a flirtation ever
really be innocent?) with Rusty, a guy who shared her shift at work. Sure,
he was married, but this was innocent, right? No harm, no foul – hell, she
was involved herself, but never had any intention of getting in over her
head so fast. Where the chemistry came from she never knew. They were just
two average-looking people at an average job – but one day, it was just
there, this thing between them that was so palpable you could almost see the
vibrations of attraction, feel the heat of desire. From that day on, it
became impossible for her to look at Rusty, be near him, without feeling
that pull, no matter how hard she tried to deny or repress it. It was
almost animal – something neither of them could understand, but both felt;
there was no mistaking that.

When she really got herself into trouble was the day when the crew got
talking about tattoos. Not being the shy type, of course she threw a
description of her own tattoo into the mix, and then immediately thought
better of it. Later that afternoon when Rusty had cornered her as she left
the bathroom and casually asked if he could see it, Janine saw no reason to
be coy, so she obliged. She pulled her tight t-shirt upward, exposing the
black lace push-up bra she'd worn by chance that day, and as she stood there
in her steel-toed boots she realized that the consequences could be very
real for both of them.

He let out a small gasp as he brought a thumb up to touch the delicate red
rose on its lacy perch, then quickly pulled back as he bit his lip and
stammered "Oh, now that's… mmmm…" She was surprised at how much she enjoyed the feeling of power she seemed to have over him, having never really felt like a seductress before. He took a couple of staggering steps backward and
grinned as he clamped a hand over an impressive rise in his Wranglers.
"Sorry," she mumbled.

"No, that's okay," he said – "Thank you," and ambled away, shaking his head.

Some might say it's strange that no emotional component ever developed,
despite the constant intensification of the teasing and playing. Between
innuendo-laden dialogues and verbal foreplay whenever the opportunity arose,
they'd talk about his wife, her boyfriend, their hobbies – but neither ever
harbored any misgivings that they were falling in love – this was purely a
physical thing.

And so it had progressed, after a few breathless gropings when no one else
was around, to the night she caught a ride home with him after shift – they'
d pulled over and screwed on the hood of his car and in the gravel road in
the moonlight, still half-clothed. Sure, they felt guilty about it – and
were careful to do their best to keep it from the crew, who surely had their
suspicions – but somehow they were able to rationalize it as okay because
they weren't emotionally involved, okay because it was a powerful physical
attraction that brought them together and not any conscious choice or


So, immobilized at the stop sign, Janine grappled with the conflict between
what her loins craved and what her brain advised. This was different, this
rendezvous too planned, said the brain. It crosses the line, whatever that
line might be. But the loins won out as she eased off the clutch and
stepped on the accelerator. Still fighting with herself throughout the
20-minute drive to the forest location Rusty had described, when she got
there she pulled off the main road and waited.

Shit. 11:38. Where the hell was he? He'd planned a solo camping trip, but
maybe something had come up. She waited for a few minutes, then decided to
drive a little further up the rut road, to see if he'd pitched his camp away
from view of the main road and just hadn't checked the time. Just as she
started up the road, she happened to glance in the rearview mirror and saw
taillights blazing back toward town on the main road. Slamming her car into
reverse, she hurtled over the bone-jarringly bumpy ground back to the road,
spun around and took off after the vehicle she hoped was his beat-up Chevy,
flashing the lights to get the driver's attention. The taillights seemed to
slow, pull over, and then stopped – and as she approached she was relieved
to see it was him, not sure of how she'd have explained herself to anyone
else at that hour. She followed him back to the campsite, anticipation
growing as she realized that she'd get to feel him between her legs one more
time, wrong as it might be.

She parked her car behind the canvas tent and got out as she took a deep
breath and apologized to her common sense, shivering perhaps more from
nervousness than from the cool air. It was a gorgeous night, moonlight
frosting the aspen leaves and stars twinkling in a cobalt sky. The campfire
glowed and crackled, crickets and frogs chirped, and Rusty's faithful
buckskin mare, Bailey, whinnied softly every so often. All in all, it would
have been a very romantic setting, if romance had been what Janine was

Moving closer to the fire to take the edge off the early August chill, they
made idle small talk to fill the awkward silence. She asked him how his
weekend was going, and he replied "Better,” as he moved to sit on a log
directly behind her, pulling her down onto his lap. A large hand found its
way under her shirt and unhooked her bra; tiny electric charges snaked down
her spine as his warm hand met her skin, grazed taut nipples. His other
hand dove into her shorts and met with aching flesh as she drew a ragged
breath. She could tell he had to have her, couldn't keep his hands off her,
and the combination of that power and her own desire made Janine wild.

She pulled her shirt over her head and shook off her bra, watching for Rusty
's reaction as this was the first time he'd seen her fully topless [they'd
been in such a rush the other times, they'd barely gotten their pants out of
the way in time]. He pulled her to her feet and led her to the tent, and
she lay down on his bedroll as he closed the door flaps. Still feeling a
little nervous, a little conflicted, Janine watched as he turned around,
tossing his shirt aside and kicking off his boots, then unbuckling his belt
and unzipping his fly. She couldn't help but grin as his huge cock popped
into view. Shedding his jeans, he knelt at her feet and took off her
sandals, then tugged her shorts down over her slim hips. He sat back on his
heels, licked his lips and let forth a low, growling "mmmmm…" Janine
averted her eyes, a little self-conscious all of a sudden and a little too
aware of the wrongness of the situation.

Any ambivalence she might have been feeling at that point was quickly erased
when he brusquely pushed her legs apart and dove between them to devour her.
She loved how the heat of his tongue probed into her; she could feel his
hunger as he licked, sucked, and kissed, but never lingered long enough in
one spot to take her where she desperately needed to go. She writhed and
squirmed, pulled his face into her, trying to keep her swollen clit in the
path of his roving tongue, but to no avail. Oh, please, she begged, and
again he denied her by moving up to kiss her full on the mouth, letting her
taste the musky saltiness on his lips. Though they'd never agreed
expressly, they generally had kept the kissing to a bare minimum, maybe
because it felt less like making love and more like fucking, when you didn't
kiss so much.

Then with no warning, he shoved himself inside her so forcefully she
screamed, partly in surprise and partly in pain as she strained to take in
what was easily ten swollen inches. He moaned softly as he drove deeper
with each thrust, and she was overtaken by that familiar heady, swirling,
fluttery feeling, as if she might pass out and miss the best part. He
fucked her long and hard, and she came four times, each climax rendering her
just a little more sensitive to the next.

With one mighty heave, he rolled over onto his back, taking Janine with him
and not missing a single stroke. Being on top was one of her favorite
positions, but she hadn't straddled him before, and wondered if what she was
used to doing would be what he was looking for. She drew her knees up
alongside his hips and sat up, bracing her hands on his bare chest.
Shivering as her position change allowed her to take him even deeper, she
squeezed and rocked her hips as she started to ride the length of his
enormous shaft. Kneading his pecs as she milked his cock, she moved faster
as he lay motionless beneath her and made gasping noises that could've been
interpreted as pain if she hadn't known better. Telling her that he loved
the way she rode him, he reached up to cup her small breasts as he rotated
his hips in time with hers. She got the distinct feeling that he'd never
been ridden at all, and again that feeling of power tickled her core.
Getting closer now, she raised her arms up over her head and let go of her
inhibitions, and he moaned her name. Again came that feral growl as he
loosed himself within her, his spasms triggering a climax that left her
weak, and she collapsed beside him, no longer cold despite the cooling air
outside the tent.

Not more than a minute or two had passed when Rusty rolled over and sliced
into her yet again, and this time the moaning was hers to do as his shaft
raked its way up her ravaged walls. This was a new kind of pain, and her
vision colored red as he tore through her, shredding her raw flesh – and she
was surprised when she realized that she actually enjoyed the pain, really
loved it. Inhibitions be damned, she'd thought, and shoved to roll him over
onto his back yet again as she took control. Riding faster and faster,
"Spank me," she ordered. He followed with a light slap to her ass – not
what she was looking for. She wanted to experiment with pain, and wanted to
get that across to him, so through clenched teeth she ordered again "No,
hard. Hurt me, hurt me." The next slap was harder, but still too tame, so
with growing frustration she barked "Harder, NOW." She felt the razor-sharp
sting as his flat palm made contact with her ass, hard this time, and she
climaxed at that instant, still a little perplexed that the pain was that

He rolled her onto her back and slammed his hips into hers, not holding back
even though he could feel she could take in no more of him. Hooking an
elbow under each of her knees, he brought her legs up to her shoulders and
plunged deeper still. As she came that time, without thinking she said "I
love you," and then was horrified to realize what she'd said, quickly adding
"Sorry, I didn't mean that."

"Yes, you did," came the throaty reply, and she tried not to think about the
real reason that had escaped her lips, the man she really did love, as one
who belonged to another woman pumped away between her thighs.

As she pushed the thought from her mind, he abruptly pulled out and Janine
felt the spurts of fiery stickiness as they landed on her chest. He lay
down beside her, spent, finally, and they lay there, drifting in and out of
sleep, Bailey standing watch in front of the tent. When she awoke, it was 4
a.m. – and she needed to get back to town before 5 to avoid getting caught.
She hurriedly dressed, thanked him earnestly for a great time, and said
goodbye. Neither of them was sure if they'd have the opportunity to be
together again, but that was okay too.
Forest For the Trees is © 2001 by Alexandra Black. All Rights Reserved. Do not reproduce or distribute without the expressed written consent of the author. Background image ©
Alexandra Black lives, works, and plays in the gorgeous Rockies of Colorado. She first became interested in the world of erotica at a very early age, but didn't try her hand at writing the stuff until about 1989, with a poem she titled "Black Lace.” She believes that sexuality is central to human existence, and that respect and reverence for all things carnal are essential to happiness and health. The most beautiful aspect of erotic literature is that ultimately, it's up to the reader to fill in the blanks, so any piece can be as personal as the imagination will allow.
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