Naughty cupid erotica contest

Pilgrimage of Desire

By Nathaniel Feldmann

Pilgrimage of Desire by Nathaniel Feldmann

Sweat dripped from my nose. I needed an ice cube, a can of cold beer, something that could soothe my overheated forehead, anything to run down the length of my spine, along the waistband of my underwear. The heat had gotten to me already. I was not yet accustomed to these midsummer days, a new northern European climate.

Stuck to the couch, all I could think about was cock my ass cheeks spread far apart, my fingers playing with my hole. I arched my back and presented, my dick rock hard, plastered to my abdomen. Pre-cum leaked from the tip.

An arrow of uncontrollable desire hit me and I moaned. A fire ignited and inflamed my cheeks. I wanted my man to notice, to pay attention to my offering, but he was down the hall, preoccupied with tying his shoes, getting ready to leave, to escape the heat that drove us mad. The summer nights had repelled our bodies from one another, too hot, too sweaty, our skin sticking and stinking.

I stuck my ass further in the air. Come to me. Come in me. I stroked my dick through my shorts, but he didn’t notice. Pay attention to me. In my head, I screamed for his attention, but no words left my gaping wet lips.

The door slammed. He didn’t even say goodbye, that fucker. I fell on my belly and sighed as my hard cock was left wanting, rubbing on the rough upholstery, fitting it into the gap between the cushions imagining that these loose pieces of foam were a tight hole willing and able to be ravaged.

He rang his little bell three times as he pedaled down the narrow Amsterdam street: his own way of saying goodbye. He put his hand in the air and enticed me to follow with his thick forearms that said, come find me.

I watched until he disappeared around the corner, taking the road along the canal. I stroked my dick in the open window, welcoming the eyes of all the neighbors, their windows blacked out, and not a single person walking below. I stripped off my sweat laden t-shirt, the armpits and lower back wet, a scent as rich as musk with inspiring notes of honey: a sweetness that I wanted to bathe in.

My dick throbbed as I used my other hand to lightly caress the skin on my arms, my stomach, and chest, feeling all those nerve endings explode in their own exquisite manner, wanting my man to come from behind and kiss my neck, for him to take hold of his possession. I jerked and bit my lower lip raw as the sun crossed over the neighbor’s roof and burned my skin. I opened my eyes just at the moment before I came into the air, letting my spunk fly and settle onto the brick two stories below. I stopped the second I felt my insides spurning and denied myself release.

Sweat collected in my mustache and flowed like a stream into my mouth, tasting my own salt. I threw my soiled clothes back over my body, the fabric sticking this way and that, a peculiar presentation of my freshly tanned skin from that one day at the beach, swimming in the North Sea. He wanted me that day but in the open air. Under the premise of finding a place to pee, he took me into the dunes. Hidden from view, I kneeled below his glory and let him cover me in warm piss, letting it cool on my skin and dry under the bright sun as he came in my mouth and across my chest, a smirk painted on his face the entire time. In the days that followed, the heatwave intensified and he drew away from me in bed, but I still longed for his touch, his conquest. He left me dreaming, wanting, and maybe that was his goal all along.

I developed a special longing for my man’s dick early in our relationship, perfect in every way: a girth of a hefty handful; the length long enough to penetrate deep, enough to make me scream as fireworks lit behind my eyelids; a foreskin as soft and delicious as ice cream that I could lap on endlessly, but only if he’d let me.

If he was going to deny me when I needed him most, I knew I’d have to go out and find it on my own, but it had to be a stranger, someone I’d never see again. I needed to venture toward a secret place to seek what I desired most; to leave the city on a journey that would lead me into a secluded wood, where trails meandered down paths of fantasy. I wanted more. No, I needed more. My mind was set: I was going to cruise at the Nieuwe Meer.

I set out on a pilgrimage of desire. I ran down the flight of stairs, tumbling over my own feet, newfound energy of my body in pursuit, on the hunt to scratch this itch, my balls full of cum.

God, I wanted dick. Excitement spilled over and I picked up speed, skipping steps. Moisture leaked from the tile floors at the landing and my feet slipped, propelling me forward, at a great rush, my heart pounded, my eyes bugged.

At the front door, I paused to catch my breath, to cool my skin for the last time in the damp shade. As I turned the handle, the sweltering heat invaded the shelter, and flames ignited from the scorched earth. With each step, I felt my soles melting into the brick laid street, my knees wobbling, my hands shaking. My sunglasses did little to protect my eyes from the harsh rays as I examined my surroundings, hoping to avoid familiar eyes, but the neighborhood was vacant.

The handlebars burned my hands as the city blurred. I weaved between the bright sun and the warm shade and did my best to hug the curb. Each motion of the pedals rubbed my dick, already tender with wanting. An erection grew along my leg and a deep purple head peeked out from my briefs. The fresh breeze cooled the tip and it pulsated as I pedaled harder, getting off on the speed.

Without any other bikers on the road, and cars driving sluggishly, I ran through red lights and spun over canals and pedaled harder, pumping my legs, feeling each muscle contract, my body moving through the stale air as if nothing held me back, finally unrestrained. My mind was set on one thing and I didn’t want the mood to change, unwilling to waste a single second of this desire, my mind settled on being naughty.

The vacant streets ended at the Vondelpark where bare chest torsos clung to the shaded bases of great trees and lounged practically nude on blankets that hugged the edge of ponds and fountains. Racks of pure beef, defined abs, full-breasted pecs, bulging biceps, and blooming packages presented themselves as tasty samples for the taking. I licked my lips, their taste just on the tip of my tongue. Every man offered oblations of smiles; my eyes met theirs and I felt the push and pull towards radiant sweaty armpits and hairy chests. Oh just one taste, but my feet kept pedaling, my dick recharged and hard, asking these sweet men to follow.

The A10 ring approached, the rush of traffic just within earshot and beyond the overpass, the city dissolved into wild grasses along the edge of a placid lake. Boats sat idle and jet skis circled. Bouncing motors and pop music traveled along the surface and mingled with the rustling song of leaves in the breeze. Songbirds sought after mates in the canopy as crickets hummed in the midday sun. Whispers lured me along the paved trail lined with brambles. Deep purple berries hung from the thorny branches, engorged with juice and bursting onto the parched earth. Colonies of wasps suckled the pooling juices, ready to sting anyone who interrupted their meal.

My lips cracked under the sun, my thirst waited for rain, a cool breeze, a splash of fresh water. I peddled harder into the wilderness, cheeks flushed, and dick eternally hard.

The path ended at an opening into the woods, a portal made between bushes. I abandoned the bike, throwing it to the side, no longer needing the damn thing. I ventured on foot, leaving the pale open sky, and the fragile breeze behind in favor of the suffocating air within the shaded thicket, the moisture so thick I choked.

Surrounded by oaks and ferns, my heart pumped as my eyes adjusted to the shade. I stopped dead in my tracks, the danger of what could be hidden behind tree trunks or tucked within the endless greenery. I held still, steadying my breath, my dick going soft, my shoulders hunched.

The trail disappeared into the labyrinth darkness. Despite the silence, I knew I wasn’t alone: distant moans and stray whispers danced around my ears. I felt eyes watching. My heart dropped into my stomach. Branches rustled just beyond and I turned. Twigs fell behind me, and I whipped back, scanning the forest floor for a familiar face. A crow cawed overhead and I couldn’t stop thinking a monster lurked in the shadows, a beast ready to devour anyone that crossed its path, but this thought only made me hard.

My first steps were gentle, cautious. I ducked under fallen limbs and dodged stinging nettles. My feet wobbled along the exposed roots and stuck to pockets of sticky mud. Along the messy path, I found a branch worthy enough to hold my weight, and kept it firmly in hand, perfectly wrapped, holding a place for what I truly desired. I felt the power of a third leg and dared to go further, gaining confidence with each step, the initial fear of stepping into the unknown dissipated and was replaced by a desire to venture further, waiting for cupid to strike me with an arrow, a hunter to shoot me down and take my body as their own, to devour me wholly. But in the absence of this god, my dick guided my feet. The dry earth devolved into a swampy marsh, a place where mosquitoes bred in ponds and mossy bogs, their tongues digging into the skin and sucking blood.

Drenched in sweat, my shirt was soggy and wet. I pulled the thing over my neck and wore it like a harness, ready for a hand to take hold of the reins and ride me bareback along the rugged path. Sweat dripped down the center of my chest and hid within the thin patch of hair. Stray barbs stuck to my shoes, and blood seeped from cuts that were haphazardly scattered along my calves and ankles, abrasions from stray brambles and twigs. The undergrowth grew thicker, but I pushed deeper, throwing aside the staff, and becoming encased in the shadows. I wiped my brow, smudging mud that found its way to my hand.

Hidden behind the layered bushes and trees, naked men and shirtless boys jumped in and out of sight, finding eyes to link and cocks to kiss. My heart raced within the inner chambers of this sacred sanctuary, a place where secrets were passed and cherubs danced under golden showers. I hid from view, crouched low and watched as chiseled bodies, fat dicks, and wanting asses flounced around, dancing in the heat, taking the necessary steps to make a connection with another wanting soul.

I took meager steps along the path and passed men of all shapes and sizes, young sweet boys ready to lick and older men that longed to dominate. Hands grabbed my ass and these lowly men licked their lips at the sight of my tight package. I skirted away, uninterested in just anyone that gave me attention, my mind was set on the perfect man, a god that would deliver paradise.

Mud clung to my shoes and mixed with leaves and twigs. Each step heavier and harder, sticking to the earth, being sucked into the dirt. A raw scent came in waves, a putrid wild rot of unwashed bodies, feces, piss, and the earth that enveloped me and pulled me closer to the ground, asking me to crawl, to bathe in the muck, to dirty myself like an animal. Unable to resist, I fell to my knees.

Out of breath, eyes foggy and on the verge of total collapse, I looked up, towards the end of the path where a man’s silhouette was outlined in a stream of sunlight. His sturdy legs were tensed at shoulder width, proud and powerful. I shook my head and focused on the divine image, tears close to welling at the contour of his hard dick that traveled the length of his waistband, the thickness nearly spilling out for the entire world to witness. My God, I finally found him.

Spit dribbled from the corners of my gaping mouth and I rested my ass on the heels of my feet. My arms rose as if in devotion, surrendering myself to this mysterious man that stood before me, his face obscured in the light. He released his cock from his shorts and filled his grip perfectly. He whacked the head on his open palm and beckoned for my lips. With no other pilgrim in a sight, I was the one he chose.

A low rumble emerged from the shallow waters of the swampy forest and took hold of my attention. My eyes scanned my surroundings and lost focus of the man that I so whole-heartedly desired. Trees rustled and swayed, branches cracked and tumbled onto the ground. My heart stopped. A nasal groan ripped through my bowels as two ivory horns pierced the undergrowth. A wild beast stomped onto the path, a virile bull, hairy and in command, his testicles hanging low and heavy. The guttural moan was deafened by the creature’s slippery cud, the roar of flies at this nose, the panting in the sweaty heat. One wrong step and this beast could force me on the ground, shove me deep into the mud, go so far to step on my back and smother me. My eyes wandered yet again away from one beast and to another, the man’s cock grew harder and longer, thicker and fuller with every pulse. His feet were stuck firmly in the ground, unmoved by the monster that separated our encounter.

Without a single breath, I rose and took a cautious step forward. The beast noticed and turned its massive head and faced me, eyes glowing red, smoke pouring from its nostrils. I froze, my life at the edge, a monster at my toes. The man smirked, offering a malicious cackle at the fear the beast inspired. He continued his stroking, getting off at my hesitation.

The beast panted and wheezed, its flanks quivering, an erect penis dragging in the dirt. With a single moan that released a flock of birds from the canopy above, the bull took a step into the bog and submerged its hairy body in the murky shallows, at last clearing a path for my desire.

The man’s eyes locked with mine, deep, dark, and endless. I took another step. He continued his stance, his balls hanging; he stroked his thick erection, his foreskin sliding effortlessly over the head and bunching at the end, ambrosia dripping into his hand. The man paused as I took another cautious step, and he bit his plump lower lip but didn’t say a word.

I came forward slowly, drawing each step and fondling my own hard cock, squeezing it until it screamed, pushing it low until the head peeped out and hung at my thigh. I approached in this way, hoping not to scare him off, my hand out, non-threatening. Just as I was close enough to behold his glorious cock, my breath faint, my heart slow, he made a turn and dashed, that smirk painted on his face. Come catch me.

Without an ounce of hesitation, I followed. I panted in the heat like some dirty dog. I wanted to yip and yell, holler and howl just to get his attention, but he knew I traced his footsteps, holding tight, drawn to his scent. With every sudden turn and climb over a hill, I found myself closer, my mouth almost wrapped around his cock, the earth of his taint just at the tip of my nose, knowing all too well that I’d soon take his sweat as if it were my own, and be filled with him entirely.

The chase persisted. My balls ached and my dick throbbed with every beat of my heart. I lost all the spit in my mouth to foamy rust and I had to gasp to breathe at all. I caught myself on branches and stumbled over mole mounds and knotty roots. The world obscured into a pale glow and I nearly died in longing. The pace broke into a sprint and on the tips of my toes, I flared my nostrils in the final assault. I lunged toward my almighty. He ducked behind trees and splashed in puddles out of sight. I searched for him and gazed through the shadows, but he wasn’t anywhere to be found.

I came upon a clearing filled with lush green grass and white flowers. The sun shined down and tickled my freckled skin. I gave up the pursuit, this god out of my reach. Alone and rejected, I rubbed my cock and came close to coming on my own, a waste of a perfect fantasy. But just at the precipice of orgasm, a breath fell on the back of my neck, lips flirting with the skin, brushing along the surface, that translucent hair. It was him.

With a hard shove at my back, I fell to the ground. I scrambled through the roots and the rotten leaves as twigs dug into my knees, and rocks cut my palms. I squealed in fear of what he was going to do to me. He circled, and placed his hand on my head, blessing me with his presence, presenting a cock to my lips. A fountain dribbled from the head, asking for a vessel to fill.

My eyes sparkled, wide and bright, as I gazed above, hands held in prayer, waiting for this god’s final judgment. He took hold of my hair and forced his holy scepter into my mouth. With each thrust, his balls banged on my chin as his entire length slid mercilessly into the depths of my throat. I gagged and lost the ability to breathe. Oxygen deprived, my eyes fell into the back of my skull. He held me close and tight, burrowing deeper and deeper. My nails dug into his legs, ready to draw blood, to taste his fluids, snot leaking from my nose.

When the world began to fade, all holy light diminished to darkness, his frightening stare narrowed. He pulled on my hair until I was freed of his manhood. Long strings of spit kept my lips connected to his cock. I couldn’t remember what anything else ever tasted like, his flavor the only one on my mind.

I barely caught my breath before my lips returned to the base of his cock, where my nose buried deep into his rank and unruly strawberry blond forest. He filled my mouth to its extremes and used his fingers to pry it open further, splitting my lips and detaching my jaw. He grunted as he choked me. Tears poured from my eyes and once he dominated over my spirit completely, the thrashing suffocation devolved into tender gyrations. My mouth relaxed, lips softened, and I found the sweetness within him that the forest obscured.

He took hold of the harness and threw me on all fours, reining me into his mighty grip. My eyes unlocked and opened to the stretches of woods. Around the clearing, a circle of pilgrims made themselves known, each finding their way to the light, twisting nipples and fondling their little dicks. Some took steps closer and bent their knees in hope of a chance to convene with an idol, eyes focused on the Holy Communion soon to commence.

But these disciples were of no concern to the man as he ripped off my shorts and threw them around my ankles. Bent over, he spit on my open hole and made it loose and ready for his entrance. On one knee he slapped the head and teased with the tip, he nibbled on my ass and licked my sweetness, spitting with vibrato and rubbing his scruff on my pink unadulterated hole.

He slapped my ass in successive motions, each strike ringing louder, piercing deeper, stinging until completely numb. He jammed his cock in all at once, no tender play or silly wait, my anus seizing only slightly, the pain making me weak and worthless. I lost all fight and submitted to his will, his hand pressing my face into the dirt, raw earth between my teeth.

He mounted me wholly and I wanted to touch myself, relieve the pressure that was near a breaking point, my cock soon to fall off, my balls ready to explode, ready to feel the sensational touch of a wet hand. But my twitching and selfish motions to take control were met with force as he pulled my arms behind my back, shoving my head deeper, my ass higher.

With each thrust, I gasped for air. Stars exploded and the shadowed world was thrown into white chaos. He brought me close without a single touch, and shoved deeper and deeper, beyond the depths I’ve known before.

A low groan filled my ears. The circle of followers conjured spirits through synchronized cum shots and I nearly came from their jubilation of release. I unleashed a bovine moan, joined harmoniously by the witnesses of this conversion, a heavenly choir, angels in pursuit of their master: a god named Eros.

Out of breath, he retreated from my temple and stood over me, the pressure of his stare, the weight of each and every stroke, faster and faster. I lay wanting everything he had to offer and more. I needed his touch; I desired his hand around my cock as he finished deep inside me. And right when I was the thirstiest, warm rain fell on my back.

I rolled over, hoping to catch his smirk once more, but he was out of sight. I was left alone, my heart raced and my body was exposed, covered in the earth, longing for my own release, only the silence of the woods left to fill me. I lost my erection; the fantasy had come to a close.

Each peddle back into the city was met with rising waves of heat emanating from cement and held within the trees, the evening sun hung heavy. At the horizon, dark and menacing clouds amassed and a cool wind blew through the streets.

I trudged up the stairs, the heat rising with every step. Thunder rumbled in the distance. The door was still locked: no one was home.

I undressed and left the soiled clothes at the door of the bathroom. The water ran cold and in the darkening sky, rain pattered on the window.

As I bathed, the earth washed from body uncovering skin littered with bruises and abrasions, bumps, and itchy rashes. Just as I became clean, I felt eyes watching me, a breath on my neck. I didn’t dare turn around as godly hands reached around my sides and wrapped my cock, suds lathered in the tender motions until I was hard. Sweet lips nuzzled my neck, and nibbled upon my ears, whispering nothing but a warm breath.

The rain fell in a torrent, and lightning cracked. In the final moment, just as I was brought close, I spun around and faced my man, his strong and sturdy legs, his divine body, that magnificent cock and fell on my knees, cum flooding the drain, my heart whole and full of fulfilled desire, and there I saw that smirk was still painted on his face.