Uberotica: By a Stroke of Fortune (875 hits)
Category: RomanceLabels: smut
Rating: 1 on 15 reviews (Rate this item) (V)
Submitted by Flash Harry (View user info) at 2008-04-22 09:56:20 EDT
Alan couldn't sleep. He wriggled into every position he could think of in an effort to get comfortable. He threw covers from his naked body in disgust, until he was too cold and had to pull them over again. He flipped the pillows around, savouring the cool side until it, too, was as warm as the other. In his mind, he sang songs. He counted to a thousand. He pictured sheep leaping gaily over a gate, and wondered whether this had ever actually worked for anybody.
There was no particular reason for such restlessness. He could think of no coffee binge, nor heavy supper to blame. As a child on sleepless Christmas Eves, he used to bang his head against the wall to try and dunt himself into slumber, but that hadn't worked then and it wouldn't work now.
Alan sighed, and stretched out to turn on the lamp next to his bed. As he did so, his mattress suddenly sagged at the side. He teetered on the edge for a moment, trying to avoid the embarrassment of falling onto the floor, even though he was alone. He grabbed out for the duvet with his other hand, but his struggles were in vain. With a yell of distress, he tumbled out of the bed, and fell.
And fell.
And fell.
As he tumbled, naked and disorientated, the light in the room seemed to change. The dark of his bedroom was gradually replaced with a lightness that seeped through his closed eye-lids like water, dribbling through until his vision was filled with a bright, blinding hue.
Alan finally landed, with an almighty thump. Not on the floor, as he might have expected to. He was not even in his bedroom anymore, in fact. As he opened his eyes, squinting in the harsh light, his fingers beneath him felt grass, and twigs, and leaves. Crazy it seemed, he was lying on a forest floor.
He lay on his back until his eyes adjusted. He blinked them open, looking around slowly. The first thing he realised, with a jolt of horror, was that he remained perfectly naked. He dismissed the notion that he was dreaming almost as quickly as it occurred to him; everything here was far too real for that.
The moist dirt underneath him punctured his nostrils with its clean, musky aroma, and the sky shone so vibrantly that white spots danced on his eyelids when he closed them. He sat up slowly, taking in his surroundings. He had landed in a small clearing, flanked on all sides by thick, powerful trees. The ground was carpeted in a mossy sponge of the most brilliant green shade, and remarkable purple-tinted leaves collected in large puddles on its surface.
He couldn't lie naked in this forest, that much was clear. Where to go? He cast his eyes around. The trees had grown with remarkable density, and around their bases grew thick, uninviting bushes. Who knew what kind of creatures they might conceal? A dark opening led to a worn passage through the forest to the north of where he lay. This, however, looked like a most unpleasant route.
Directly opposite this, another clearing in the trees led to a more established pathway. Through here the sun shone brightly and the bushes danced in the breeze in a friendly manner. With little hesitation, he sprang to his feet and dashed to the edge of the clearing, his hand cupping his modesty from the fresh, crisp air. Once in the relative shelter of the purple-leafed trees, he hid himself in the shadows and listened with intent.
Cheery birdsongs filtered through the branches, which whispered in the breeze as though answering their feathered friends. It sounded just like a normal forest. There was something remarkable about the place though, something he couldn't quite put his finger on. He listened to the winged choir, breathing in shallow puffs. Another song found its way to his ears. This one didn't sound like a birdsong, however...it was altogether too human.
What shall I find around this bend,
Perhaps a little piskie friend?
Well, at least the mysterious songstress spoke English. And it was a girl, of that Alan could be sure. Her voice was sweet, her tune melodic, and the words she sang betrayed a delightful naivety.
What shall I see behind this tree,
Perhaps a cheerful spriggan for me?
The voice grew louder, and the naked fellow in the forest grew anxious. She was coming towards him, and from the direction of her voice she might stumble across him at any moment. A joyous whistling pierced the air, in worryingly close proximity. Alan could hear every note from her pursed lips.
What shall I find upon this walk,
Perhaps a big friendly...cock?!
The last word of her song was uttered in astonishment. It was evidently not deliberate, and punctured the tone of her sing-song. Red-faced, Alan turned his head slowly to where the cry had come from. He smiled as he realised she was more embarrassed than he.
She had appeared from around the bend in the path he had chosen to shelter in. At her feet lay a dropped basket of assorted and brilliantly-coloured fruits, the likes of which he had never before seen. She turned slightly away from him. A delicate hand covered her eyes, but she peeked rather obviously through her fingers at him. She blushed and smiled at his nakedness, although she was barely more dressed than he.
She was bare-foot, and her legs were pale and naked, covered around the waist only by a little slip of rough cloth. Her tummy was bare also, and flat. But there was something unusual about it. Something unnatural. Alan took a step back and gasped loudly as he realised it - she had no belly-button!
He had little time to ponder on this bizarre point, as the rest of the creature distracted him. Her hair hung in long, wavy curls of golden strand. Her face, although obscured still by small fingers, radiated beauty. Beneath, a long and fair neck met soft shoulders, which in turn framed the most perfect breasts he had ever seen.
They were wrapped in a thin sheath which fastened around her arms, with inquisitive nipples which struggled eagerly at the material. The girl clearly wore no brassiere, yet their buoyancy was astonishing. In volume they were generous to the point of altruism, and their perkiness might have questioned the very notion of gravity.
As Alan admired her, the girl dropped her hand from her face and regarded him also. Forgetting his state of undress, he had dropped his hands by his sides, but her allure was having such an effect on him that he had begun to swell in a most suggestive way. He hastily covered up again, his face flushed with embarrassment. The forest girl giggled, her lips curving upwards with wonder.
"What are you, stranger?" she asked finally. Her accent was marked in a way Alan was not familiar with. She took a step forward, placing her delicate, naked foot gently down on the moss-covered floor.
"Can you speak?" she asked again, slowly. Alan's mouth had dried up, and he seemed to lose the ability of his mouth for a moment.
"Y-yes, I can speak," he answered finally, although unsure of every syllable. "I am a man. What are you?" he asked, glancing down again at her smooth, unblemished stomach.
"I am a Nymph, of course," she said sweetly, stepping further forward to him. "What are you hiding down there, Man?"
She reached out to his crotch, pointing at his hands. They were by now covering a perfect erection, the result of this Nymph's radiant splendour, and the keen nipples which strained for release.
He couldn't answer. It had all become too much. Perhaps as little as an hour ago he had been in bed. Now, he had tumbled into a strange forest full of purple leaves and peculiar songs and an astonishing forest minx. He opened his mouth to speak, but no words came out.
The Nymph placed her hands gently on his wrists. Her touch was soft, and comforting, as though he had known it before. Alan couldn't resist. She guided his hands away, leaving him pointing firmly at her with twitching lust.
Her nose crinkled in surprise, her lips opening, mouthing the word again: 'cock.' She glanced back to his face, and to his utter astonishment planted a soft kiss on his lips. This lifted his spirits, although he could barely bring himself to move his tongue against hers. She leaned into him, moaning slightly as she felt his hard pressure on her peculiar stomach.
As suddenly as she'd kissed him, she pulled away. Her eyes darted back down to that which prodded into her. "Is that what I think it is?"
"Yes," said Alan, finding his voice once again.
"How wonderful," she sighed, and traced her finger from the thick base to the quivering tip. He gasped at the Nymph's touch, confused but happy to let her fulfil her curiousity.
"Its much fatter than I imagined," she said, almost to herself. "I've never seen one before, you see. There are none in the Forest."
"No men?"
"None. There are only eunuchs. Thousands of Nymphs, like me, and thousands of eunuchs, but no men. Our natural...playfulness is wasted on them, of course."
Nymphs? Eunuchs? Thousands? Alan swallowed hard as he considered the implications.
"Come with me," said the Nymph. He held his hand out to hers, but she grabbed his cock instead. With a yelp, he followed her, like a dog on a leash. Her grip was gentle, her inquisitive fingers stroking every inch of him as she led him back out into the clearing.
Purple leaves lay in thick bundles on the moss, and the Nymph threw herself onto one such pile. She maintained her grip on Alan, so that he fell happily on top of her. They sunk into the leaves as though it were a mattress, their lips suddenly desperate for one another. She wriggled daintily out of her shrug, so that her splendid bosom was freed at last.
Those nipples which had sought release so eagerly were rewarded with Alan's hot lips and careful teeth. The Nymph groaned with lust, stretching her long neck and clutching at the leafy bed with her outstretched fingers. Her silly slip had ridden up around her waist, the heat from between her legs pulsing onto the man's thighs. His cock strained and seemed to grow longer in its desperation to be swallowed within.
The Nymph gathered her legs around his waist like a hungry serpent. Alan felt warmth, and wetness spreading along his cock. It began as a pin-prick at his very tip, and spread in a slow circle, until the throbbing head of his penis nestled between her virgin lips. He had only to thrust forward and he would be in. She had only to squeeze her thighs around him to draw him into the blissful damp warmth...
Alan woke up, with a sharp intake of breath. The air in his bedroom hung heavy with the smell of sex. His heart pounded in his chest as he slowly realised where he was. Had it been real?
The soft leaves that stuck to his knees were real enough. As was the tingling in his lips, caused by the Nymph's desperate kisses. He slid his hand underneath the duvet, to his throbbing cock. Its tip was still warm and wet. With a frustrated sigh, he slid his hand around it, smearing her juices down to the base.
With thoughts of her swollen nipples dancing in his mind, and the cream from her virgin pussy lips still dribbling down his length, he wanked with a fury. Quickly, he spurted with a howl, into a rag which lay underneath his pillow.
User Reviews
Submitted by loveinbrevity (user info) at 2008-07-21 11:11:10 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
No Comment
Submitted by MudWhistle (user info) at 2008-04-24 08:07:24 EDT (#)
Ranking: -2
HERE YOU GO
Submitted by Littlebint (user info) at 2008-04-23 10:44:28 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0
Well written but didnt excite me.
Submitted by orphelia (user info) at 2008-04-23 07:02:09 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
Must be Cornish in real life, no one pretends to be Cornish, that is just insane.
Submitted by HurtByTheSun (user info) at 2008-04-23 06:56:41 EDT (#)
Ranking: 1
Yes, theBarron is Cornish. Well, in real life at least. On Uber? Fuck knows.
Submitted by orphelia (user info) at 2008-04-23 06:52:31 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
Is the Barron cornish?
I heard a rumour...
ps this is way too long and most people won't be bothered to read. Fillystines. lol.
Submitted by HurtByTheSun (user info) at 2008-04-23 05:48:57 EDT (#)
Ranking: 1
I'd like to know where you got all your Cornish influences for this by the way. TheBarron?
Submitted by ilikesteak (user info) at 2008-04-22 20:10:30 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0
Damn... Now I'll have to write something.
YOU JUST COULDN'T LET ME COAST MY WAY INTO VICTORY, COULD YOU.
Submitted by Lib (user info) at 2008-04-22 13:44:47 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
No Comment
Submitted by lostnphound (user info) at 2008-04-22 12:06:56 EDT (#)
Ranking: 1
No Comment
Submitted by CaptainThorns (user info) at 2008-04-22 11:42:32 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
No Comment
Submitted by GangsterSquid (user info) at 2008-04-22 10:21:35 EDT (#)
Ranking: 1
That picture made me throw up in my mouth a little bit.
Submitted by SgtHartman (user info) at 2008-04-22 10:16:44 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
+2 narnia sex
Submitted by HurtByTheSun (user info) at 2008-04-22 10:02:59 EDT (#)
Ranking: 1
Eunuch below.
Submitted by Titus (user info) at 2008-04-22 10:01:12 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0
This is quite pathetic. The lead-in is 90% of the story, and the actual erotica part failed to get me even remotely hard.