Raging River

Raging River

Status: Finished

Genre: Erotica


Status: Finished

Genre: Erotica


A farm girl floats naked down the river. She gets scared thinking about what might lurk around the dark reed beds of the river but maybe there is a greater danger waiting outside of the water. Will the handsome farm manager save her in time or is he part of the problem? Warning: This story contains explicit descriptions of male/female sex and adult language and is not suitable for minors.


A farm girl floats naked down the river. She gets scared thinking about what might lurk around the dark reed beds of the river but maybe there is a greater danger waiting outside of the water. Will the handsome farm manager save her in time or is he part of the problem? Warning: This story contains explicit descriptions of male/female sex and adult language and is not suitable for minors.


Submitted: June 23, 2012

A A A | A A A


Submitted: June 23, 2012



Written for the way home...

Raging River

No-one ever comes to this isolated part of the river, it is just too much trouble to crawl through the undergrowth and then climb over the large granite rocks to reach this spot. The sound of the water, the warm smell of the vegetation and the promise of complete privacy, seduce my imagination into spoiling myself. This is the perfect place for a girl to get some sun on those bits where the sun doesn't normally shine. If it gets too hot, there is ample shade under the graceful willow tree, with its long flexible branches that droop nearly to the ground. This old weeping willow knows many of my secrets and I feel safe under its branches. The shiny, light green foliage of long narrow leaves block most of the midday sun, yet in the late afternoon, enough sun gets below the protective canopy to keep me nice and warm. This is my secret place on our farm and I often hide here from the rest of the world.

Once under the massive old tree, I lie down on the grass and make myself comfortable in the cool shade. The curtain of drooping branches hangs protectively around me and I feel comfortable enough to start my ritual. My shoes are normally the first to go. I love to feel the grass under my feet and the cool air over my sweaty toes. It feels so liberating to just move my toes around and not have a single worry in the world... but today I am itching for more.

Flat on my back with hands folded under my head, I stare up into the numerous branches hanging over me. The sun seems to play hide and seek between the leaves and bursts of light penetrate my secret world and light up the rough texture on the thick branches. With the button undone, I zip open my pants and wriggle out of them. What is it about having your legs up in the air and why do I suddenly feel naughty doing it? Once free of my legs, I plant my feet wide apart, close my eyes and lift my bum off the grass to slide my pants in under it. This is also a nice feeling, lifting my hips high off the ground like that. Holding that position, I slowly pull at my panties, pretending to take them off. It is such a nice feeling to have the soft material slide off my private parts and along my thighs towards my knees. What if someone were sitting up there on one of those branches? Hidden in the foliage I wouldn’t have been able to see him until now.

Wide eyed, I quickly pull my panties back up and lie flat on the grass like a good girl. What if that quiet new farm manager was up in the tree for some or other reason. I carefully search along all the branches but unfortunately there was no peeping-tom trying to get a better look at me. With him up there watching, I would definitely take my time and make him wait for it. Slowly removing one garment at a time, I would carefully fold it first before placing it on the ground. I’d hesitate for a while before removing the next piece and leave my panties for last. Finally, when I do remove them I will turn away and bend over low to place my firm backside in full view for him. Once I have offered him a good enough look at the pudding, I will lie down and pretend to be very bored, almost like I am now. I look again amongst the branches, just to make sure that he was definitely not sitting up there. While daydreaming like that I unbuttoned my shirt and started running my hands over my breasts and down my half-naked body, just to discover that I was hot and sticky from the walk. This is not as fresh and romantic as I pictured it and I decide to rather go and cool off in the stream. I unceremoniously strip off the remainder of my clothes and leave it in a pile on the grass.

The bank near the willow tree is partly flat stone, and it feels warm underfoot as I tip-toe closer to the water. The stream is a tributary flowing from a bigger river running along the western boundary of our farm. On the other side of the stream is a clump of reeds that grow from the sand bank all the way into the water. The gentle current of this stream ripples over and between a wide assemblage of round granite rocks before it drops into a deeper slow running channel that flows between the flat rock and the reeds on the far side. Yellow fish can often be seen at the bottom of these mini rapids, waiting for some unlucky insect to get washed down the stream and straight into their hungry mouths.

The sun feels good on my bare shoulders as I carefully move closer to the clear water. The fish, like me, must be in a good mood today because they show off their bellies by turning sideways and reflecting the sun off their golden scales. I creep closer and try to climb into the water without frightening them. They are very shy, and the moment my big toe breaks the surface of the water, they scramble deeper into the reeds. Looking at my pale feet in the water I realize that they look a lot like the belly of a fish and I hope that none of the resident otters will mistake my feet for a fish. The water in the stream is cool and refreshing against my skin. I allow my body to get used to the difference in temperature by lowering myself in stages. The first stage up to my hips is relatively easy and the cold water even right up into the apex of my legs is almost exciting. Allowing my tummy and the area up to my nipples into the water is more challenging. Finally I allow the water level to come up to my chin and find that I still draw my breath in sharply when the cold water runs up my back to the base of my neck. Once fully submersed, the water is fantastic and you start looking at yourself and your environment very differently.

I gently lean back into the stream and stretch my arms out wide to float on the water. My nipples are hard from the cool water and stick out above the surface like two pink beacons. Comfortably suspended in a different dimension, I slowly float downstream while staring up into a bright chromatic sky. This is nice and refreshing after the long hot walk. Slowly drifting past some reeds, the drooping crown of the willow comes into view. With the tiny hairs all over my body standing erect from the cool water, I find that my body is changing and my skin has become super sensitive. Suddenly I am a lot more aware of my surroundings and anything that comes into contact with my skin. My nipples are so sensitive, they even pick up on the slightest change in the breeze over the water. My face and my perky white breasts soak up the sun in contrast and make me smile contentedly. Supported in this coolness, I gently drift downstream passing the long green strings of shimmering leaves drooping from the willow branches.

Suddenly I get the urge to pee! Why do I even think of climbing out to do this? Let me just relax, which is easier said than done. When I eventually do let go, my whole body seems to relax and I can feel the warm liquid twirling along my thighs as it slowly disperses into the stream. This unusual warmth causes a stir in my loins and I can feel the blood warming up the lower part of my body. My hand slowly makes its way over my stomach towards my mound and I find my legs opening up even wider in keen anticipation of what could follow.

My mind is keen to go look for that hunk of a farm manager and drag him back into my day-dream. I just love those muscular forearms of his with thousands of short blond hairs all over it. With those arms around me and his strong hands gently moving down to my hips, things could get a lot more interesting out here. More of the tall reed stems pass the sun while I am drifting closer to the far side of the stream. Hundreds of busy little cape weavers build their nests and breed amongst these reeds. All day long the birds come and go in droves to feed their young, making these reed beds a hive of activity and a source of ear piercing twitters. Amongst the chaos it often happens that a baby bird drops from its nest and ends up thrashing in the water while it drifts away on the current. Giant eels cruise through these reed beds bringing a quick end to their distressed existence.

Eels are very fond of baby birds, which are not much more than a pink bundle of flesh with a few bits of fluff on them. Very similar to my pussy, now being clamped tightly between my legs. Maybe I shouldn't be so close to these reeds, with those slippery eels lurking around. I quickly roll back on my stomach and begin to swim up-stream, using my arms to do most of the work. I think it is safer to keep my legs together and swim by kicking my feet up and down, instead of the toad-like kicking astride that I am used to. Eels have very sharp teeth and if one bites into the soft juicy flesh perched in the apex of my legs, it could do a lot of damage. I keep my legs so tightly together that I hardly make any progress against the current.

I must get out of the water, but it is always better to climb out onto the smooth stone slab, instead of struggling through the vegetation and mud on the side of the stream. That way my hands and feet stay clean and I don't have any hassle with washing off the sand and mud afterwards. The flat stone is also a nice place to dry off and warm up after a swim in the crisp water. Progress against the current is very slow and I start wondering if I will ever reach the safety of the stone slab. With the eel's razor sharp teeth etched in my mind, I decide to swim as far as possible away from the reeds, on the side by the willow tree. Hopefully an eel will be reluctant to cross the open water in daytime to get to me - or maybe not?

Willow trees love growing next to water and huge clumps of thin dark brown roots grow right into the water. This old tree has been growing here for decades and amongst these clumps of roots the younger growth can be seen as pink and white tufts that are now moving around in the water right under me. I have seen some big chestnut coloured crabs that live in holes amongst these clumps of willow roots. The crabs like to crawl around these roots and they have a pair of dangerous pincers that they use for hunting fish. The adult males have one big claw that can deliver a very painful pinch. I realize that my nipples are only inches above the roots as I am swimming past. One of those male crabs could easily put out his ugly pincer and get a grip on the most sensitive part of my chest.

The eels seem a far lesser threat now, as I start kicking my legs apart again, froggy style, to get to the stone slab as quickly as possible. My progress against the stream is a lot more promising now, but I am still scared and my heart is beating in my throat. I know it is childish of me to be scared of things that will never actually happen, but I can almost feel the crab's nipper tighten around my stiff nipple. Once attached to the tip of my breast the myriad of other spiky legs will follow and crawl all over my bare chest. My brothers used crabs as bait to catch eels and catfish and in my mind's eye I can see a crab clinging to my breast and a huge catfish streaking towards it. A chill runs down my lean athletic body as I start swimming for gold. I reach the flat rock just in time to pull my two precious boobies out of the water and safely onto the warm stone at the edge of the stream. Just when I thought I was safe, I felt an eel swimming up between my legs, heading straight for my pussy!

With a bone chilling scream and super human strength, I jump out of the water and onto the safety of the rock. Once on dry land, I bend over to look between my legs and see what kind of damage the eel did to my sensitive parts. There is no blood or serious damage that I can see. My vertical lips are just a little blue from the cold water, but all still in one piece. That's when I see the limp piece of rush, now wrapped harmlessly around my ankle. The damn thing probably washed down with the steam and then ended up between my legs. It is covered in green slimy algae that makes it feel smooth and slippery just like an eel. With my heart galloping like a wild horse in my chest, I flop down on my bum and start laughing hysterically. I untangle the slimy piece of rush from my ankle and toss the "eel" back into the river. The stone slab is a little warmer than I expected but not so warm that I want to get up from it. I just move my legs around a little and in doing that I feel my outer lips roll open against the warm wet stone below me.

The distant murmuring of the water and the chatter of finches in the reeds sound mild compared to the blood that is roaring through my veins. I tilt my head back, and the warm sun on my face paints a rosy glow on the inside of my eyelids. Leaning back against my arms, I let my thighs relax and sit there cross-legged, drinking up the sun. The muscles in my back contract and the ends of my wet hair tickle me in the small of my back when I sit up. I lift one cheek off the stone and with the tips of my fingers gently pull my other lips open and allow myself to comfortably sink deep into the warm stone. Time fades into a warm glow rising in my young body and I float somewhere between sleep and daydreaming .

The raging torrents through my veins are subsiding yet the murmur of the stream or the wind stirring the reeds prevents me from hearing him approach. First I feel his breath softy against my neck and then the warmth of his presence around my back. He must have crept closer on his hands and bare feet because his two big hands are nice and warm as they cup my breasts. His voice sounds as if from afar but his breath is here right in my neck.

“Your nipples are like daisies on the gentle hills of your breasts. Your hair is as soft as silk and as thick as the veil behind which you wait for me.”

I felt his knees against my hips and a warm wet drop from his swollen manhood that just brushed my back. My heart and soul are hungry for him and I can feel how my body wants to drink up every drop of his urgent desire. I am surprised to feel his finger already looking for my moist opening, when just moments ago his warm hands were still firmly around my breasts. I'm too scared to talk or to open my eyes because I don't want to lose even one second of this magic. His fingers stroke my primitive desires and on the inside of my eyelids a kaleidoscope of colours become a blur. All my nerve endings push their little faces up into goose-flesh and from their tiny mouths you can almost hear them shouting enthusiastically:

"Touch me! Please touch me! "

I feel almost nauseated in the pit of my stomach because of the excitement and the tremendous need running through me. From the depths of my soul I can feel the roots reaching out and wanting to grow into him. The light on the inside of my eyelids changes into a deep dark red with some purple spots and I smell the muskiness of his shiny body so close to me. I know the tip of his mighty penis is slightly wet with pre-come and his hardness is just waiting for the soft warm reception promised by my loins. I'm so wet I can hear the sloshing of his two fingers rhythmically playing in and out of my juicy lips. My nipples are so hard and stiff that they can pick up on the slightest movement echoing through my body. His fingers move to my clit and, with his first touch, I can hear my pleading voice:

"Please! You will kill me if you still touch me there. I want to feel you inside of me; otherwise my belly is going to burst open and swallow you alive."

I surprise myself with the intensity of my own words but cannot help it – he drives me crazy with his delicate restraint. I want to tell him to grab me like a wild animal and free his deepest desires. His strong arms pull my legs up against my chest and he turns me toward him, my poor crack almost grinding to mince-meat on the hot stone below me. I choose to keep my eyes firmly closed. Fortunately I am so wet that no great harm is done and feel even hotter for that big throbbing cock of his. With his hands firmly around my ankles, he opens my legs and pulls my exposed crotch right up against his chest. His broad shoulders push my thighs even further apart as his lips travel down my belly to the sweet spot. He teases me by narrowly missing the spot and kissing the inside of my thighs all the way down to my knees. On the way up he just gives me a quick lick and a hello kiss as he likes to call it. He always says that I taste like exotic spices to him ... but today he is also very quiet, maybe because my eyes are still closed and because I have said so little to him.

The hard tip of his manhood presses against my inner thigh and he pants against my naked skin as his lips move back up over my body. his hungry lips latch onto one of my breasts as I shift my hips into position to receive him. He totally surrounds me and I can feel the female deep inside of me, gladly capitulate to his overpowering desire. His one hand almost covers my whole boob and he is squeezing my nipple between two fingers in a soft rolling motion. His mouth tries to suck in as much of my other breast as possible and occasionally I can feel his warm tongue licking my sensitive tip.

My hand guides the head of a very hard throbbing monster, up and down between my juicy lips to leave us smooth and wet for the union to follow. His mouth moves to mine and then the hunger deep inside him breaks my lips open like a ripe pomegranate. There is a slightly salty taste on my tongue as his lips burn down hard on mine, a little bit of sweat on his lips or perhaps the taste of my own blood. The romance of the wind rustling through the reeds and the friendly murmur of the stream is extinguished by the storm that rages in my lungs and the flood roaring through my veins. He gently breaks through the gates of my chastity, but once he feels my warmth and the involuntarily arch of my back pressing up against him, there is a rush to penetrate the secret tunnel. There are a thousand hot boobs and a multitude of rock-hard penises frolicking between us. It feels like I can't get enough air into my lungs and he carries on as if he can't get enough to drink from my cup that is over flowing. My whole existence encourages him to press his throbbing manhood deep inside me - up there against my heart, stroke, kiss and lick every hole and pore of my body. Crush the last bit of stubborn female resistance inside me and make me yours, make me yours forever. Wash my insides clean with the milk from your heavy testicles and feed my heart with the lush golden honey of your deepest desires.

I start moaning softly, almost like a puppy missing its mother, I moan because the flood in my chest is overflowing but still I don't want it to stop. The problem with an orgasm is that the harder you fight it off the harder the climax fights back. He feels the urgency rising deep inside me and this causes him to clamp his hands around my hips like a drowning man. He thumps his throbbing cock so hard into my pussy that his heavy balls slap against my wet butt like giant pendulums made of lead. Each thrust echoes like a shock wave through my body and I can feel my tits wobble and shake to his instinctive rhythm. Then we both collapse on the precipice, where I feel a wave breaking over and over the rocks of my heart, while he humps with urgency, as if his life depends on it. His eyes almost wild, tilting upward, his mouth gaped wide and his breathing almost spastic, madly thrusting himself deeper and deeper into my pleasure hole. As I watch the bulging muscles under his shiny skin, I can feel the next avalanche approaching.

My tunnel contracts uncontrollably with each powerful squirt of his hot seed. It feels as if it sprays right up against the side of my heart. His broad shoulders and strong chest towers above me, with his face as if in pain. The veins and tendons in his neck bulging like a road map under his skin - The next wave of my ecstasy is about to break inside my belly. It feels like some of my limbs are being washed away by the raging waters, like pieces of a doll drifting away on a tide of passion. Again and again his fiery volcano explodes inside me and repeats the tide of animal lust deep inside my pelvis. I feel like a prehistoric leech sucking the last of his precious semen out from deep inside his balls. He on the other hand, convulses like a wounded animal with no control over the lower part of his body. It is just lying there, thrashing about between my bruised legs and pressing my sore buttocks against the hard warm rock. We collapse together over the last blissful crest and into the abyss... he thankfully rolls us over and manages to stay inside of me. With my head on his chest and both gasping for breath, he folds his strong arms gently around my back while we both try to catch our breath.

Together we climbed the peak and soared on the wings of his giant cock. Like Icarus of old, he also came too close to the heat of our sun and singed his wings. I hear his voice as if calling my name from far away. Blessed we float down from heaven, over mountains and valleys, there he was within me. His rod and his staff pushed me over the edge, my head felt dizzy, my cup runneth over ... my heart feels washed as white as snow. I can feel his brave soldiers slowly withdrawing through the gates of my city and I smile with satisfaction. This time his voice is much closer and he calls my name really urgently.

"Susan, where are you?!"

Oh fuck the Philistines are upon us. No upon me – I quickly pull the last bit of my middle finger out of my vagina and jump into the water. It was not a second too early because the next moment the handsome and tanned farm manager breaks through the undergrowth behind the willow tree.

"Why don't you answer me when I call! Your mother is looking for you - right now!" I slowly scan the surface of the water around me to see if there is any semen floating around - how silly of me. But then my eye falls on a very suspicious looking stain on the flat part of the rock, a wet patch that leaves very little to the imagination. I look him straight in the eyes and just to make sure his eyes don't start wandering, I stand up a little higher out of the water.

"Why are you looking at me so funny ...." he asks suspiciously? "

I just wondered if you would appreciate a little joke." I replied coquettishly.

"Maybe you better get out; your mother is waiting for you."

I pretend to get out, but hold my hands over my breasts. This stops him in his tracks and he turns around to walk away. "Wait," I call after him, “don't you want to hear my joke?” He looks over his broad shoulders hesitantly, at least now he is too far away to recognize the two wet buttock marks on the rock, with a slimy line running down the middle of it.

"Both these things are very enjoyable and good for entertainment.” I try to entice him but he just looks at me suspiciously. I decide to throw the question out to him anyway: “What is the difference between funny and fanny?" I can see his face turn red, but he silently turns around and quickly disappears into the bushes behind the old willow tree.

"Ungrateful brute! You didn't even hold or cuddle me!" If you want to know, the difference is “u”.


Feel free to email me: abbylynx@gmail.com with comments or suggestions.

Please visit the publishers, Kammasutra ePublishing's web site at: www.kammasutra.co.za.

This story is available in Afrikaans as “By die Rivier.” at this link:


© Copyright 2018 abbylynxx. All rights reserved.

Add Your Comments:






Other Content by abbylynxx

More Great Reading

Popular Tags