***

Was it the sweet smell in the air? After a restless night of tossing and turning, dawn finally came, and by then his lower half was damp. The fluid seeping from the tip of his p*nis had soaked through his trousers and even stained the edge of the blanket.

In the rare dream he had that night, a woman with soft, pale br*asts appeared. She covered them with her small hands as she rubbed her rounded shoulders against his chest. In his hazy consciousness, he embraced her slender waist and buried his face in her neck and br*ast like a starved man before pressing his lips to her soft, supple mounds.

Even as he kissed her br*asts and eagerly sucked on her n*pples, the woman whose face remained hidden was simply an embodiment of “femininity”. With an almost desperate hunger, he kneaded her br*asts as his p*nis hardened. The woman only whimpered softly, burying her face in his chest and letting out faint, nasal cries that mingled with her muffled sobs.

Was it a moan or a sob? The woman, who had been twisting her hips rhythmically as his rough chin brushed against her soft br*asts, suddenly stopped. He too stopped pressing his p*nis against her thighs and paused to look at the woman held tightly in his arms. 

“Lift your face.” 

The woman, her head buried in his chest as her bare br*asts pressed against him, fumbled to touch his arm. He stroked her gently, as if to comfort her, his gaze fixed on the long hair that cascaded over her shoulders. Auburn. Red-gold strands, tinged with a faint reddish glow, brushed against her small ears, carrying a scent so familiar it pierced him. 

Before she could raise her head, his heart dropped, sinking heavily. Those witch-like, absinthe-green eyes, pale, milk-white skin, and delicate, fine bones… 

“Ah…”

As he loosened his grip on the woman in his arms, she pressed her soft br*ast against him, rubbing it against his torso. Panting heavily, Theo embraced her again, his hands gripping her hips just below her slender waist. He thrust his hardened p*nis into the narrow space between her thighs.

The woman, who had been rubbing her br*ast against him, let out a short cry and burst into tears, pushing him away. Ignoring her attempts to push him away, Theo held her tightly, pressing her trembling body against his chest. Her face streaked with tears, she shook her head in refusal. The girth of his p*nis, buried between her legs, swelled even more as it pressed against her tight inner walls.

“Stay still… just stay still. Please… ah!”

Each shallow thrust of his p*nis into her v*gina drew soft, nasal cries from the woman as she twisted her hips. He couldn’t tell if she was trying to stop him or encouraging him. With each twist of her pelvis and moan, the shallow movements gained strength, his p*nis swelling. Finally he thrust deep, his t*sticles pressing against her outer folds. 

The woman, her legs spread like frogs, gasped and clenched around him. Each forward and backward movement of his hips made her tremble, her damp face contorting as her lips parted silently. 

“What is it? I can’t hear you…”

Foam trickled from her reddened lips. Instead of trying to decipher her inaudible sounds, he found more satisfaction in teasing her. Breathing heavily, he moved with intensity. With each thrust and pull, her full br*asts with *rect n*pples quivered uncontrollably.

He grabbed her limp arms and crossed them in an X shape. She trembled, her lips twisting with every twitch of her body. Every time she shivered in ecstasy, fluid spilled from her. Leaning down, he pressed his face close to hers, capturing the fluid as it swirled. He kissed her parted l*bia, teasing them gently with the tip of his tongue.

“Ah, ahhhhh! Ahh!”

The woman, who had let out high-pitched cries, struggled to breathe as her br*ast heaved. He sucked on her l*bia majora, which had a faint p*bic hair, and played with it, inserting his finger into her hole and rubbing her love juices. He also rubbed the cl*toris left and right and The woman became dizzy because she liked it.

He adjusted her position, helping her to lie down comfortably. Wanting to suck her more deeply, he moved her so that his face was closer to hers, his lips and tongue exploring her v*gina with gentle intensity.

Finally she put her strength into her thighs and shook her v*gina back and forth. He licked the water that splashed from the throbbing hole and the love juices that leaked out with his tongue, and he stuck his finger into the hole and swirled it.

As he sucked on her plump cl*t, leaving it slick and wet, The woman, trembling and releasing in waves, let out a squeal and slid her hand down.

He awoke from his sleep, the image of a woman teasing a finger provocatively through a hole lingering in his mind. Looking down, he saw the blanket, heavy with her sweet scent, draped over a rigid, elongated form – almost reminiscent of a stallion’s virility. It was as if the climax he had reached at midnight, when he had once spilled his essence, had been utterly insignificant.

Fortunately, the space next to him was empty. With a displeased look, he looked between his lower body and the blanket before getting up to look out of the window. A loquat tree and a lush vegetable garden came into view. Judging by the carrots and cabbages that had been harvested earlier, perhaps for breakfast, it appeared to be a modestly tended vegetable garden, mainly growing carrots and cabbages.

He lifted his eyes to focus on the colourful garden. Swan was nowhere to be seen along the path leading to the shed. He considered stepping outside to investigate, but hesitated, afraid of an awkward encounter. Instead, he straightened his front. The object, as large and thick as a stallion’s phallus, was a massive p*nis. 

He wondered if he’d ever actually used one in his life, and if so, he couldn’t remember the last time. The heat that filled his chest tightened around his solar plexus. He lifted the blanket to his nose and took a deep breath before spreading a towel on the bed.

Grasping his p*nis, he bit his lip as the slick, rounded tip completely filled his hand. Could hunger really drive someone to such madness? Over his dark hand holding the tip, he imagined a woman’s pale, slender hand overlapping his own. Such a hand could never fully grasp something so thick with just one of its dainty fingers. 

He imagined both of her small hands wrapped tightly around the girth, caressing it awkwardly and hesitantly. The image of her fumbling, inexperienced touch, her hands clumsy yet eager, gradually arousing herself as she tended to him, only made his *rection swell further, throbbing with an almost unbearable intensity.

“Hah…”

His spine tensed and straightened, his posture stiff. He pressed his lips tightly together, his eyebrows furrowed. Each breath, thick and heavy, filled his mouth with heat as it accelerated. His chest heaved with deep inhalations as he began to move his hand rapidly back and forth. The sound of flesh striking flesh echoed, sharp and rhythmic.

His mind was filled with nothing but the image of the woman who had once thrown herself at him. The feel of her body pressed against his, the warmth of her skin, the heat that had radiated from her.

The sweet, pleading whimper that came from her lips, the tears that had dampened his jaw, and even her cries, so laden with surrender, no longer sounded like resistance, but something else entirely.

Creak.

He didn’t even hear the door open. He was too lost, consumed by the memories of her body entwined with his, their stolen kisses, the way he had played with her softness.

It was the moment of climax. A surge of opaque fluid poured into his grasp, his body shuddering with release. Breathing slowly as the cold of reality crept back in, he turned his head.

“Ah…”

“……”

“I-I’m sorry, I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to—I didn’t…!”

She pressed her lips together tightly, her bright green eyes quivering with excitement. Her face flushed bright red, only to pale again in quick succession before she abruptly turned her head away. He hastily straightened up, grabbed the towel he had left on the bed and left the room without a word.

***

She couldn’t tell how the day had passed. Some time after the man had left, Swan made her way to the valley. Her mind was still a mess, but there was still work to be done.

To get through the winter, she needed to gather herbs, dry and steam them as much as possible, and portion them out for sale. She usually divided this task into two sessions a month, but this month the workload had increased to three sessions.

This was due to the guest staying in her cabin. Swan tried to distract herself from what she’d seen by thinking of other things – like Tom, who hadn’t shown up for three days, or the cabin’s finances for the winter.

But even when she thought of Tom, the thick p*nis kept popping up in her mind. And when she thought of firewood for the winter, the image of the man grabbing and shaking his p*nis came to her unbidden.

It was said that, well, all men were like that. The widows who had lived with Tom as if they were running a household together had often whispered such things to Swan.