O.K. Before we start, lets just get something straight. You’ve come to expect from my stories a certain standard of realism. So when I start talking about a world where humans coexisted with dinosaurs, I can see that you are going to give me a hard time. But that is where you would be wrong. Because humans and dinosaurs did, in fact, walk the earth side-by-side. An increasing number of fossil discoveries have proven this beyond a shadow of a doubt.
So why haven’t you heard about this? I’ll tell you why. A conspiracy. The paleontologists of the world have made a secret agreement to keep a lid on the evidence. After all, not only would it be embarrassing to have to admit how wrong they had been for all those years, but, to release this information would serve to redeem and give comfort to a certain group of irresponsibly irrational individuals. You know who I mean. That’s right. The makers of movies such as One Million Years, B.C. and When Dinosaurs Ruled the Earth. Should these men learn that their movies were a spookily accurate depiction of what life was like for our cave-dwelling progenitors, right down to the brand of false eye-lashes worn by Racquel Welch, there is no telling what might eventuate. Maybe even a new series of The Flintstones.
So why am I breaking this conspiracy of silence? Because I’m not a scientist, I don’t give a fuck, and I quite liked The Flintstones.
Ook was a member of a tribe who called themselves the Rock People. They lived far up in the mountain caves of central Europe. There life was a harsh battle against the elements. The wind blew heavy through the mountain passes, stirring up the massive drifts of snow. Like the rest of his people, Ook covered himself in a cloak of mammoth fur and also wore a tiger pelt loin cloth. His feet were wrapped in antelope leather, but his hairy legs were bare to the chilly winds. Only the tough survived in the high lands.
Ook pulled his flint knife from the side of his loin cloth and joined his fellow tribesmen in hacking free large slices of meat from the carcass of the mammoth that they had just felled with their mighty spears.
Old Mongo enthusiastically cut off the beast’s genitals with a single swipe of his stone blade.
“Look at me,” he cried, “I’ve got a mammoth cock!”
“Get a move on,” growled Krog, the leader of the tribe. “The sabretooths will have smelled the blood. They’ll be here any minute.”
Of course they weren’t really speaking English. They were speaking a language consisting of guttural grunts and expansive hand gestures.
As they headed back to their cave, heavily-laden with their cargo of raw meat, Ook contemplated his lot in life.
Ook had always felt that he should be leader of the tribe. Wasn’t he the most intelligent? Wasn’t it he who had first pointed out that their living conditions would be much pleasanter if they shat outside the cave? And yet Krog was the leader because of his prowess as a fighter. Krog could fell any man with one blow of his club. Anyone, that is, who had not already been laid low by his body odour.
One reason why Ook wanted to be leader was that the leader got first pick of a mate. Krog’s woman, Hubba-Hubba, made Ook as horny as a Triceratops. She had ice-cold blue eyes beneath a tangled mane of raven hair. Her full breasts were barely contained by her crude leopardskin bra and the jiggling cheeks of her ass were tantalisingly revealed whenever the wind whipped up her loin cloth.
Ook, though very clever, was the worst fighter in the tribe. That is how he ended up with Grot-Grot as his woman. Grot-Grot had a bald patch on the top of her head, she was missing an eye and she smelled like a dead skunk. She did have a good sense of humour though.
The cave was a very crowded place. A tribe of thirty five men, women and children squeezed into a cliff-front cavity the size of a Taco stand. If they wanted to fight, they had to go outside.
And there was no privacy when it came to fucking. Once the children were asleep and the fire had gone out, the moaning would begin as couples rubbed together their bare skins beneath their bear skins. As the men humped away at their women in the Stegosaurus position, the women would gossip amongst themselves about whether their men were able to rock their world or whether they left them stone cold.
Then came the time for the women of the tribe to make their monthly pilgrimage down to the lowlands to gather fruit. Normally, this was an arduous but uneventful trip. But on this occasion the women were cornered in an orange grove by a hungry Tyrannosaurus. It came charging at them on its powerful legs, saliva dripping from its razor-sharp teeth, and its pathetic little arms just sort of hanging there.
They had no alternative. Two of them picked up Grot-Grot and hurled her forcefully towards the terrible Thunder Lizard. And, as he bit her head clean off, tossed it in the air and swallowed it with a loud gulp, they turned tail and ran back up into the mountains.
So that is how Ook came to be sleeping alone on the night of the full moon.
All around him couples were grunting and squealing like sex-mad warthogs. He was feeling especially horny. He tried rubbing his raptor, but it just wasn’t the same.
Krog loved nothing better than having Hubba-Hubba gobble his knob. And this is what she was doing beneath the bearskin to Ook’s right.
“No harm in having a peak,” he told himself as he lifted the bottom of the pelt and, by the light of the moon flooding through the cave entrance, feasted his eyes on Hubba-Hubba’s luscious bare bum.
Krog’s eyes were tight shut in ecstasy. What would he notice if Ook stole himself a bit of Hubba-Hubba’s action?
He pulled himself up behind her and slid his stiff cock into her hairy wet pussy. She wriggled in approval. Just as Ook had suspected. She was a cavewoman of easy virtue.
Ook grabbed onto her hips and slapped his hairy six-pack against her bare bottom as he probed her pussy with his flesh spear.
If Ook had been a little less enthusiastic, things might have gone well. But he rammed into Hubba-Hubba so hard that she fell forward and sank her teeth into Krug’s engorged prick.
“Owwwwwww!” cried Krug, his eyes flying open. “What the fuck! Ook you terrible cunt, stop fucking my woman!”
“What?” Ook, responded, thinking on his feet. “You mean this isn’t a dream?”
But Krug didn’t believe that Ook had been sleep-fucking. He challenged him to a fight.
Rather than die a horrible death in that cramped cave, Ook ran out into the wilderness where he could be free to die a horrible death in the fresh air.
He ran and he ran and he ran. If you’ve ever run down a mountain you’ll realise that that is what happens. Starting is easy, stopping impossible. Two days later he arrived at the lowlands and fell forward on his face. For three hours he just lay there, but when a baby raptor came past and started eating his ear, he had to climb to his feet and look around. He was in the grove where the women gathered the fruit. So he filled his belly and then he thought about what to do next. He would have to go far far away if he were to be safe from Krog’s vengeance. On the edge of the fruit grove was a creek, and beyond that a mighty desert. He drank his fill of water and then set out into the desert. He doubted that he would survive to get to its other side, but he could think of no other way to put a significant barrier between himself and Krug.
He was used to the cold climate up in the snow-capped mountains. The heat of the sun beating down on the desert sands was overwhelming. He abandoned his furs and his tiger pelt loincloth. Dizziness swept over him, and he had to use all of his will to keep putting one foot in front of the other.
And, finally, inevitably, he collapsed. There was no more energy in his body. He almost welcomed the end that he knew would come as the sun dried him up like a raisin.
But it was not to be. Just as all seemed lost, a mighty shadow swept across his body. In the clear blue sky above him a hungry pterodactyl circled and watched. And then it swooped down, clasped him in its sharp claws and bore him aloft. The desert was no place to enjoy a leisurely meal. It would take him back to its island nest.
Though Ook didn’t know it, this was man’s first experience of flight, of the freedom of souring up into the sky and seeing the world shrink below until the mightiest of trees looked small enough to stick up your nose.
It was a pretty big desert. Ook could see that from the air. There was no way he would have made it without the pterodactyl’s help.
Oog’s next surprise would be the ocean. How could he have suspected that somewhere there was an expanse of water even larger than the desert? He could see it coming a long way off, as they were flying quite high. But as they neared the beach, the pterodactyl began to circle and descend. Eventually, Ook could see why.
There were women on the beach. Naked women. Their only fur was that growing between their legs. Among the Rock People, nakedness was something that only happened in the dark. The sight of these gorgeous shapely nude women, all of them with strange yellow hair unlike anything Ook had seen before, cause him to pop a boner, even in his situation of grave peril.
The pterodactyl was circling the women on the beach trying to make his mind up whether one of them would make a tastier morsel than the sinewy piece of man meat he currently had in his possession. This gave Ook plenty of opportunity for a good long perv.
“Why not have a wank?” he asked himself. “After all, it might be my last.”
Thus did he become the world’s first member of the mile-high club, solo division, as he grabbed his stiff cock and stroked happily away as he enjoyed his aerial view of the bevy of buxom blondes who bedecked the brine-swept beach. How he would love to fuck one of those strange creatures. They were even more luscious than Hubba-Hubba. It didn’t take long before his happy cock produced a spurt of creamy cum which fell down and landed on the belly of one of the dozing dishes.
“What was that?” she cried, opening her eyes. The girl next to her did likewise, and spotted the circling pterodactyl. Then she looked down at the milky substance that had landed with a splat on her friend’s stomach.
“A pterodactyl just jizzed on you,” she laughed.
The first girl wiped up some of the liquid on her finger and then licked it off.
“Funny,” she said. “It doesn’t taste like pterodactyl jizz.”
Around this time the pterodactyl apparently decided that a bird in the hand is worth two in the bush. Although he was really the only thing around that resembled a bird and the only bush in sight was of the pubic variety. Which just goes to show that it is a good thing it is me telling the story and not the pterodactyl, otherwise we’d all be confused.
As Ook’s captor winged his way out over the water, headed for the volcanic island, which loomed up out of the sea about a half a mile offshore, Ook pulled out his flint knife and jabbed the creature’s leathery claw.
The air was ripped asunder by an ear-shattering squawk, as the pterodactyl dropped Ook, who fell with a mighty splash into the sea.
Weak from dehydration and wanking, all Ook could do was to let the current float him towards shore. But by this time he had attracted the notice of the blonde babes on shore. A couple of them swam out to fetch him. One of them grabbed him by the dick, and the other put his head under her arm and pressed it up against her soft boob as she dragged him to shore.
The five women who had been sunning themselves on the beach were apparently only the tip of the iceberg, metaphorically speaking. Twenty three more stunners, their hair blonde and their bouncing bodies well-tanned, came pouring out of the cave that overlooked the beach.
There were no men. What Ook didn’t know is that the men of the Sand People were off on a long fishing expedition and would not be back for several days.
Ook staggered out of the water with the curvaceous cavegirl beside him still pulling on his cock. Then the others gathered around him, sniffing him and curiously tugging at his strange dark hair.
“Akita!” one of the women said, insistently, thumping her fist between her ripe bosoms with an air of great pride.
“How are you doing, Akita?” Ook replied.
“Akita!” insisted another of the women, with the same gesture. Then another followed suit. And another. And another.
“Strange,” thought Ook. “It must be confusing if they are all called Akita.”
What he would only discover after living with the tribe for many months was that, in the language of the Sand People, “akita” meant “slut.”
Realising that Ook was not in good condition, the girls took him back to their cave and fed him on fish and fruit and coconut milk. After a couple of days he was back to his old self.
These women of the Sand People were not like the women of the Rock People. For a start, they never stopped playing with themselves or each other. Or with Ook himself. There were always a couple of them sitting by the pile of palm fronds on which he rested. His presence seemed to greatly arouse them. They would stroke his head and the hair on his chest. They would kiss him and suck his toes. Meanwhile they would smile sweetly and masturbate with their other hand. If they thought he was not too tired they would suck his cock until he spurted his love juice down their throats. And when he was able to walk weakly out onto the beach he would find them playing a game which might have been called Lick Pussy Chasey. One would chase the others until she caught one, and the one caught would have to lick the catcher’s pussy until her face was bathed in cunt juice.
Once he was recovered, Ook found he had his work cut out fucking all the girls. They loved wanking and licking each other’s clits, but they liked cock best of all. Each night he would fuck three or four of them, and then, when the others pushed forward he would make a face which spoke apology and wag his limp willy at them to show that it had lost all hope of stiffness for that evening. But he was always willing to cuddle with them while they wanked off and licked each other’s pussies. So nobody ever grumbled too much.
But Ook had a problem. His skin was used to the cloud-covered mountain skies. While the women were used to the sun and well-tanned, Ook burned a painful pink if he stayed too long in the sun.
Through gestures the women told Ook that they had a solution for his problem. They indicated that their pussy juice had a miraculous power to protect him from the sun.
Now, before you decide to save money on sunscreen and seek ozone protection for your next beach visit by smearing girl cum all over your body, let me tell you that it doesn’t work. Those Sand People girls were conniving little bitches who knew how to exploit the ignorance of a hick from the high country in order to get the non-stop orgasms they craved.
“It’ll take an awful lot of pussy juice to cover my whole body,” Ook pointed out, though the girl’s didn’t know his language. They could pick up the gist though. They smiled and nodded their heads.
The first stage was the wanking. The girls lined up and Ook pleasured their pussies and stiff slippery little clits with his newly skilful fingers. He helped the process by sucking on their stiff nipples. As the cum squirted out, Ook wiped it up with his fingers as it dripped from their hairy pussies and smeared it onto his skin.
The second stage was the oral sex. Ook almost got fur balls from licking all of those hairy cunts. But the girls would soon squirm and shoot or dribble more of the substance he sought.
The final stage was just for those who could perform especially well under unusual circumstances. Mostly it was a case of him spanking their bottoms hard while they wanked themselves off.
Then one of them pointed her bum at him, bent over and pulled her cheeks apart. One of the other girls pointed to her butt-hole.
“What are you trying to say?” asked Ook. “That she’s constipated?”
One of the other girl’s looked exasperated. She lubricated her index finger with saliva and then slid it up the other girl’s bottom. The girl whose bottom it was, gave a shivery giggle. The other girl removed her finger, pointed to Ook’s cock, which had mysteriously stiffened at this display, and then back to the butt-hole in question.
So Ook wiped his pre-cum all over his member and then slid it happily home into the girl’s chocolate starfish. The other girls all clapped as he plundered her poop shoot. Meanwhile she rubbed her clit until she squirted her essence into her hand. Once Ook had pulled out and wanked off over her beautiful behind, she wiped her cream all over his face.
Secure in the false assumption that his skin was duly protected, Ook lay out to sun himself and rest from all this exertion.
It was at this time that the men of the tribe returned from their fishing expedition.
The women told them about the stranger who had come to join their tribe. As the men gathered around to meet Ook, they sniffed and wrinkled their noses suspiciously.
“I think something fishy is going on here,” one of them said to another.