PROLOGUE: I am the only person I know that has been attacked by a moose. Yes, a moose. It was in Banff a few years back. My husband and I, along with two other couples, had made the trip to sightsee and maybe ski. The evening of the first day, I went for a walk from our little B&B to get a flavor of the town. Walking along a long road between some apartments or condos or something, I spied a huge shaggy beast down the street some ways off. He'd already noticed me: he was standing head down, eyes glaring, forelegs braced. A moose! In the middle of town. How cool! I closed about half the distance so that I could get a better look. He stared at me and I stared at him. I am from a rural town in Texas and I know about livestock, and I know what a bull looks like when it is about to charge and this moose was not looking happy. Even though I felt I was well out of his personal space, I began to get uneasy. There was something malevolent, almost predatory, in the way that he stared. Maybe I'd better head back. As I turned, the moose bolted after me! I yelped and ran, but in what seemed like just a few steps he was upon me. There was a heart-stopping thump on my back and I went rolling in the snow, my arms around my head, the moose astride me pawing at my body while I cowered. 

A snuff at my ear and I distinctly heard his teeth click! Oh my God, I was about to be eaten alive by a moose! I was screaming "Get away, get away..." and suddenly there were people and the moose was gone. I was curled in a ball with my eyes tightly shut, still sobbing, "Get away," until they calmed me down. 

Well, the paramedics came and I wasn't hurt but I still have nightmares about it - about the horrible snuff and the click of his teeth. And now you know why I've written this story...

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I bolt awake, the eerie wails of the hunting pack still echoing in the surrounding peaks. My chest clenches in fear and I stifle a cry, shrinking into the protective embrace of your arms. How had they found us? Was our long escape to be for naught?

"Shh," you soothe, snuggling me closer to your naked chest. "They're not near. The rain's washed away our scent. Do not be afraid! You're safe with me."

Your hairs prickle my equally naked back as I pull your arms even tighter around me. Your hands automatically find my breasts and cup them protectively.

The rain has slackened somewhat, now little more than a drizzle. As I gradually relax, the need I'd postponed in the evening as the rain slatted down returns with a vengeance. I shift uncomfortably.

"I need to go outside," I whisper. "I need to go."

You hold me a bit longer, the bitter wind whipping the taut fabric of the tiny tent. My clothes, saturated by the rain of the past day, would be halfway dry by now. I had no wish to wet them again. And it is so warm in the blankets, so safe in your arms. But my bladder will not be denied. I stir reluctantly, suddenly fearful of what lies outside in the dark.

You sense my hesitation. "Come, I will accompany you."

You thrust us both out of the blankets and the sudden chill takes away my breath. I turn towards the tent flap and fumble with the ties, but your hand on my shoulder stays me. "Take my cloak. Wrap it around your shoulders." Gratefully, I accept the garment. It smells of you.

Outside the wind is a solid wall of sound. Only the stunted pine at the edge of the timberline impede its flow. The distant peaks are bathed in dim light, giving an almost unearthly beauty to our perch on the mountainside. Our tent is pitched on the soft, springy tundra, now matted by the rain.

More wails in the distance! 

My blood runs chill, but you are there to reassure me. I cling tight to your hand and squat, my skin numb with cold and my hair already damp. At first I cannot let go. I glance up at you - proud, strong, lean - chiseled against the light background of the low, scudding clouds, and once again I am struck by how you seem to belong out here.

Your head is thrown back in defiance to the wind and the rain and the slavering moose. The dim light glistens on your beaded naked body. I see your manhood profiled against the light and, in spite of my fear, desire awakens in me. My stream splashes in the turf and I groan quietly in relief. I see your own stream arcing from your body, and in that moment I am so close to you, grateful that you have chosen to share this most intimate of moments with me.

Back in the tent, I search for the rag we use as a towel. It is damp from yesterday's soaking, yet it suffices to skim the worst of the moisture from our bodies. You chafe my body with it and feeling begins to return, and with it, the cold. As soon as I'm able, I dive back into the warmth of the swaddling blankets, shivering, impatient for you to join me.

My thoughts drift. Was it just two days ago? We were hunting, you and I, slinking through the stones seeking the succulent snow geese.

You were so brave then, fending them off with your long knife in a last, desperate attempt to protect me, to shield me with your own body. Moose blood spurted freely but it was in vain, their numbers were too great. I heard the teeth of the leader click on empty air as abruptly you snatched me in your arms and hurtled us from the cliff.

Down, down we fell into darkness. I felt curiously detached, safe in your arms, reconciled to my death. But the unexpected plunge into icy water revived me and together we flailed our way to shore, laughing outrageously in our relief - we were alive. Alive! The angry bellows of the thwarted moose echoed impotently far above.

We'd been on the run ever since, fleeing, the pack sometimes nearer, sometimes further. Surely you guided us, scaling the icy mountains, seeking to put the relentless moose off our trail for good. And, for a while, it appeared they had indeed lost the scent and that we were free. But now they had returned. And they were seeking us, ever seeking. Moose do not forget nor are they easily turned aside from their prey.

The long night is old now and cold settles over us like a shroud. Already the eastern sky is lightening. You again enfold me; my back snuggled against your chest, your hands cupping my breasts. I am so warm, so safe, so profoundly grateful for your protection. I push my naked bottom back, desiring you, wishing you to fill me, to make me complete. And I feel your manhood stir.

You are already hard, already stiff. Electricity jolts my body, my womanhood. I feel myself melting as your strong palms cover my breasts and your fingers roll my hardening nipples between them. I want you. I part my legs slightly and your swollen phallus slips easily along my furrow, sliding boldly through my gathering wetness, wringing a gasp from my throat.

I squeeze you between my thighs, trapping you, your head pressed against my nubbin, your shaft a burning pole between my lips. I rub myself on you.

Take me now! I can't stand it! I need you inside me! Please... Please...

As if hearing my wordless plea you withdraw the object of my desire and easily pierce my opening. Oh! Oh yes! Yes! In one merciless thrust, you bury yourself in me, nudging my womb. My body squeezes you convulsively and, instantly, strong fingers pinch my nipples. I cry out in the agony of my pleasure. You thrust emphatically, relentlessly, heedless of my moans, consumed by your volcanic desire, as if all the fear and horror of the past days could be purged through this joining.

My body shakes with the fury of your assault. And I respond in kind, pushing back in time with your rhythm, desperately seeking to take in all of you, to make you a part of me, to join our souls in ecstasy. One hand releases a breast and I ache at the sudden void, yet gasp anew as a finger parts my furrow, uncovering my quivering clit. You are driving me mad.

Deeper! Please... deeper. Oh, don’t stop. Don’t ever stop. Oh yes – just like that! Flick my clit. Right on the tip.I need to come. Rub it... harder! Please don’t stop. Harder... don’t be gentle. I need you. Take me. Possess me. Please, harder. Harder...

I feel it now. It blossoms in my belly. Growing... swelling... oh, sweet agony. I am coming. I... am... coming. I AM COMING!

My body rigid, teeth clenched, breath caught in my throat, all of my will pitted against the rising flood, seeking to stem it for just one moment more. Just... one... moment... more...

And then your rhythm changes. Your manly organ swells impossibly inside me and, with one last thrust, you bury it to the hilt, penetrating to the uttermost end of my sheath. A guttural groan is wrenched from your lips. For the barest moment, time stops. Our bodies freeze. Then the last barrier bursts. My climax engulfs me. Your finger wrings deep release from my spasming clit as gouts of hot seed splash my womb. I pulse in time with your spurts, once, twice, thrice until, with a mutual sigh of pleasure, we slump into contentment.

The clouds are parting as we emerge naked from the tent. The wind has hushed, the storm passed. We stand together, hand-in-hand, facing the deep crimson glow in the east. The majesty of the world is spread before us. The fears of the night vanish like mist in the swift sunrise. Your strength and courage enfold me. A moose and its calf appear, headed for water in the vale far below, yet I am unafraid. It is a new day.