Free Caveman by V. Andrian Page A

to realize my panties are wet and I’m in serious need of a cold shower.
    “There,” I say groggily and have to clear my throat again. “Ready. Want to see?” I hold out the mirror for him and stand up.
    “No,” he says gruffly and stands too. Without another word, he’s out the door and I’m left stunned yet again. Why? I thought we were bonding here. What had I done wrong?
    I storm out of the cabin in search for him. I think I see him disappearing between the trees in the path leading to the river and run after him. I’m not fast enough though and by the time I reach the river bank he’s nowhere to be seen. I’m afraid to call out to him in fear of bumping into Brother Bear again. The only solution I have is to look for him.
    I take an educated guess and figure he could have gone either up or down the river. I follow the stream backwards. It’s not an easy feat since the bank this way is full of fallen branches, rocks and boulders and I’m starting to wonder if I chose right heading upstream. I climb over a pretty tall boulder and stop.
    Damon’s here, several feet in front of me. And he’s naked, under a small waterfall in the cold stream. Naked . And hard. His erection is standing at attention and he has his hands braced on the rocks in front of him and his head thrown back right under the stream. Oh my God, this is the caveman version of a cold shower. And it has to be the hottest sight I’ve ever come across.
    Oh, I should go. I should give him privacy. I should—
    He wraps his hand around his hard cock and strokes it twice, hanging his head forward. His thumb sweeps over the tip before he pushes his hand back down to the base and back up again. I don’t know if it’s in my mind or not but I think I hear him groan and my heart about explodes with how fast it’s beating. I was wrong before. This is the hottest sight ever.
    His hand starts moving in long, slow strokes up and down his shaft and I simply can’t take my eyes off of him. He’s basically under the frozen stream and he’s still hard. His whole body is tense and I can’t help but admire how perfectly hard and fit he is all over. This is the picture I want to keep of him if I’m never going to see him again. This Damon, his hair cut short, no long beard roughening him up, his face features hardened by lust and – yeah – his long, thick cock standing fully erect. He’s like a Greek statue.
    My breath quickens along with his strokes and I think I’m getting off just by looking at him. I’ve never heard that women are capable of orgasming simply by watching something so erotic, so hot but I wouldn’t bet money against it happening. My eyes now are fixed on his hand that’s fisting his shaft. His movements turn jerkier and then it’s definitely him I hear groan loudly as hot semen explodes from his tip and coats his hand.
    I slowly start to walk back to the cabin, trying to reign in my raging hormones. My mind is foggy with pure lust and the images of Damon getting off are playing again and again. I don’t see the fallen branch I had passed before. I step on it and feel my ankle twist and then hot pain shoots up my leg and I shout out in agony. Oh God, I think this time I did break it.
    “Cassandra,” I hear being yelled from behind me.
    “Damon,” I call out in response, rubbing my ankle that is rapidly swelling. “Here.”
    I hear him rushing and then he’s kneeling beside me, fully clothed. His hair is wet and dripping and it looks so much darker this way.
    “What happened?” he says urgently. “How?”
    I hiss in a breath when he removes my hand and rubs his thumb over my swollen ankle. “I came after you. I didn’t see the branch and I fucking stepped on it.” I don’t mention how that happened only after I saw him masturbating. “Stupid,” I add under my breath.
    “Not stupid,” he says softly. “Just unlucky. Come on, let’s get you to bed.”
    Oh, that is perceived so differently from my body than what I