The Wild

by K. Webster

  I sit up straight and shake my head. “I’m fine.”

  “You’re not fine. Go get the first aid kit. I think you need stitches.”

  Reluctantly, I climb off the bed to hunt for it. Once I return, I soak a new rag in alcohol and hand it to him. He dabs at the wounds that most definitely do hurt. While he does that, I thread the needle. It takes forever but he manages to stitch me up.

  “I’m so tired but there’s so much to do,” I tell him, my voice shaky with unshed tears.

  “Rest, baby.”

  I curl up next to him, my bare breasts pressed gently against the side of his arm. Leaning up, I kiss his mouth. Soft at first but then I kiss him desperately as though he might disappear at any moment. When he starts wheezing again, I whimper and pull away.

  “Rest, baby,” he murmurs again.

  With a choked sob, I obey.

  * * *

  * * *

  Excruciating pain radiates across my ribs. Breathing is a sonofabitch but I can do this. I remember what the doctor had said when Drew cracked his rib. We were told he needed to breathe deeply—even though he cried every time—so he didn’t develop pneumonia. And that is exactly what I do. I take deep breaths even though I prefer the shallow ones. I can’t get worse out here. She needs me. The healing time on this shit is like six weeks. In the wilderness, I can’t let her do everything by herself for that long.

  When I look down at her sleeping face, my heart aches. She’s so beautiful. Her dirty face is tear stained and puffy. Her wild, blonde mane is a mess. But she’s as pretty as an angel sent just for me. I’ll be damned if I ever leave her.

  That bear pawing at her scared the ever-loving shit out of me. It was the same ear-piercing scream she used when we discovered her brother had been bitten by a venomous snake in the treehouse. Despite the rush to the hospital and the anti-venom, his heart stopped and my little boy died in the emergency room. When I saw the bear, I couldn’t help but fear I’d lose her too. She wasn’t moving and he was so fucking big. I pulled my .45 caliber pistol from my jeans that I keep on me at all times and unloaded. The minute that fucker crashed into me, I thought I was a goner.

  But my girl…

  My sweet, brave as shit girl, yanked me out from beneath that heavy ass bear. She was clever and managed to haul me back to the cabin. Then, she cleaned and took care of me.

  The least I can do is pull the fuck out of this.

  It’s been three days since the incident. I’ve shown her how to chamber a bullet on the .45 and now she keeps it with her when she goes outside to do chores. I feel like an invalid. She helps me piss and shit in a bucket since I can’t move very well. She feeds me—literally spoon feeds me like a child—every meal. And she bathes me. I wish I had the strength to do more.

  What surprises me the most is she skinned the bear and harvested the meat.

  “This morning, we’re having bad bear soup again,” she says as she sits up, the quilt falling away from her naked body.

  I reach forward and brush my fingertip across her nipple. It hardens under my touch and her cheeks blaze pink. I can’t help but smile at her. “Bad bear soup is my favorite. Do you have to go yet?” I pinch her nipple and she lets out a gasp.

  “I’d much rather lie in bed with you,” she admits. “But no rest for the weary.”

  I slide my hand down to her panties and massage between her legs. “I miss touching you, baby.”

  She moans. “You shouldn’t be moving. You’re hurt.”

  “You could always straddle my face and let me kiss your pretty pussy.”

  Her mouth drops open. “You’re dirty.”

  “You’d be the one making my face all messy,” I smirk at her.

  She slides her hand down to my erect cock and strokes it. “I could kiss yours too.” Her words are breathy and embarrassed but it turns me the fuck on. Especially when she darts her tongue out and licks her full pink lips. I have a quick fantasy of those perfect lips wrapped around my dick.

  “Let me kiss you first. Then you can have your turn,” I concede, my dick jolting in her grip.

  Her eyes twinkle. “I have a great idea. I’ll let you put your mouth on me but I’ll get on all fours backward and kiss you too. At the same time. It will feel like…” she trails off and blushes. “Like when we have sex.”

  I’ve fucked her twice and I’m dying for more. I don’t tell her they have a name for her suggestion—sixty-nine—because I love keeping her as innocent as I can. She’s mine. All of this is hers to discover on her own.

  “That’s a great idea, baby. Now sit on my face and let me taste you.”

  She lets out a low moan of embarrassment but sheds her panties. Then, carefully, she straddles my face. Her familiar musk sends desire shooting straight to my cock. Her round ass and pink pussy are right in my face as she assumes her position.

  “Have you ever…” I trail off. I’m about to ask my daughter-turned-lover if she’s given head before. Thankfully she stops me.

  “No, but I promise to make you feel good.”

  I grip her fleshy bottom and run my tongue along her slit, enjoying the whimper she makes. “I had no doubts, baby.”

  When I start eating out her delicious pussy, I groan the moment her tongue teases my tip. I can’t see what she’s doing but her tiny tastes and little licks are driving me insane with pleasure.

  “Put your sexy mouth all the way around my dick. Fuck it, beautiful,” I instruct, my voice strained.

  Like the good girl she is, she obeys and soon she’s sucking my cock with vigor. I devote my attention to sucking on her clit and fucking her tight hole with my thumb. Her body trembles above mine. I’m sure it’s awkward for her to maintain the position as not to hurt my ribs, but this girl has already proven to me she’s strong. Her body is small but she’s developed some sexy as fuck muscles since our crash. Slurps and moans from both our ends are enough to have my balls seizing up.

  I’m trying to hold out until she comes. She’s close, based on the way she trembles. I slip my thumb from her pussy and probe the tight ring of her ass hole. She cries out when I start pushing inside of her.

  “Oh God,” she garbles out around my cock. I’ve barely started fucking that hole when it clenches tight around me. She screams in pleasure. Her arousal from her cunt drips down into my face and I lap it up, greedy for every drop. When my dick hits the back of her throat and she relaxes it, I lose control. My cock throbs out my violent release and I nearly black out when she swallows me. She fucking swallows my dick. My orgasm shoots down the back of her throat that has me in a hot, tight grip. She eventually gags and pulls away from me, her slobber and some missed cum dripping down onto me.

  “That was…” Her body trembles and clenches.

  I ease my thumb out of her and press a kiss to the inside of her soaked thigh. “Perfect. That was perfect, baby. Now make us some food, woman,” I tease and slap her ass.

  She squeals and scrambles off me. When she turns to regard me, I’m stunned speechless. I’ve never seen something so goddamned beautiful in all my life. Her hair is wild just like her blue eyes. Her mouth is puffy and red and wet as fuck. Her tits are swollen and nipples are erect. Her pussy is bright red and soaked.

  I wish I were well because I’d bend her over the mattress and take her rough if I were. I’d tangle my fists in her gorgeous mane and fuck her so hard from behind she’d scare away all the bears.

  “You’re hard again,” she says, pointing at my relentless dick.

  I grin at her. “As soon as I feel better we’re going to do something about that.”

  Her eyes darken as she bites on her lip. “Pinky promise?”

  “You better fucking believe it.”

  Three weeks have come and gone. I literally have cabin fever and it’s driving me fucking crazy. At least once a day, my sweet Devon straddles me and we trade orgasms. It’s the most amazing feeling but not satisfying enough. I want her. I want to sink my cock deep inside of her and come with her t
ight pussy clenching around me. Don’t get me wrong, the girl is becoming a master at sucking my cock. I just want to be inside of her.

  “Today, I’m making the fireplace. Just tell me what to do.” She’s all smiles as she dusts snow off her jacket.

  I grumble in protest. “I can do it. Just get me my—”

  “Reed,” she says in exasperation. “No. I can do this.”

  Reluctantly, I concede. We spend hours as I walk her through constructing the fireplace. My girl is clever and so fucking smart. And capable. I watch in absolute awe as she builds this thing every bit as well as I could. Thank God my tools survived the crash. Without hammers and saws and nails and every other tool imaginable, we’d have had a lot harder time surviving out here.

  “The most difficult part will be sealing those holes so smoke doesn’t escape into the cabin,” I say thoughtfully.

  Undeterred, she hammers out metal to make v-shaped corners to fit in the gaps. She uses too many nails but she’s making it pretty airtight. I don’t criticize her or tell her how to do it. Devon is smart and has a plan in her head.

  Hours later, once she’s cut a hole in the cabin so the muffler pipe can stick out that’s also attached to the back of the oven-turned-fireplace, she dusts off her hands and grins at me. “Time to test it out.”

  She disappears but then comes back with some wood she no doubt chopped herself. I watch with pride as she makes a fire—just as I’ve taught her—inside the contraption. Once she’s satisfied, she sits back and watches it. Amazingly, the damn thing works. Heat billows from the open oven door but all the smoke is flowing into the muffler pipe and outside.

  “You’re fucking brilliant,” I praise.

  She beams at me as she takes off her coat. “Now we can roast bad bear steaks right from our bed if we want. How romantic,” she sighs playfully. God, she’s so damn cute.

  “I know of other ways we can be romantic…”

  As if catching my drift, she begins a slow strip show that has my cock aching beneath the blanket. When she’s fully naked, she crawls in bed beside me.

  “Sit on my cock, Devon.”

  Her eyes widen. “But you’re still hurt.”

  “My dick is perfectly fine,” I argue.

  Our eyes meet in challenge. I pin her with a glare that leaves no room for argument.

  “Fine,” she huffs, clearly not happy about it.

  “It’s no different than when you suck me off, baby. At least this time I can look at your pretty tits while you bounce on me.”

  My words turn her on because she gets that look in her eyes—the look that says she wants to fuck desperately.

  Slowly, she straddles my thighs and takes my dick in her hand. Then, her eyes dart to mine. “I don’t know how to do this.”

  “Just get on and ride.”

  She laughs but carefully guides my throbbing cock to her soaked pussy. With a gasp, she slides all the way down.

  “Wow…”

  “What?”

  “It just feels bigger like this. Like it’s poking stuff inside of me.”

  “Does it hurt?”

  “No…just feels weird. I like it.” She bats her eyelashes at me.

  “I’m going to touch your clit but I want to watch you play with your sexy tits,” I tell her as my fingers begin massaging her between her thighs.

  She moans and nods. Her palms go to her breasts and she slowly slides up and down my shaft. At first, she’s rigid and clinical. But after a few moments, she loses her mind to the ecstasy. She bucks against me like a wild woman, greedy for release. Seeing her so free and lost to the pleasure has my nuts drawing up eager for release. To my horror, I begin spilling abruptly inside of her—before she orgasms. But thankfully, it seems to set her off because her pussy clenches hard around me with her release. Our bodies make slurping sounds as she continues to fuck me. When the last of my seed pours inside of her, I take a moment to stare at her while her eyes are still closed.

  Serene.

  Happy.

  Mine.

  “We need to be careful,” I tell her, making her eyes snap open. “The last thing we need out here is a baby.”

  Her mouth parts. “Okay. How?”

  “We just need to communicate. When I get ready to come, I’ll tell you. It’s called the pullout method,” I tell her with a smile.

  As much as the idea of her with a rounded belly turns me on, I can’t fathom if something went wrong. She’s only seventeen and she’s tiny. All sorts of complications could arise from pregnancy and giving birth. In the old days, women died from childbirth all the time. And I’d go mental if I lost her over something stupid like that just because she feels too good wrapped around me when I come.

  “The pullout method. Got it,” she assures me. “Now are you ready for some steak, Mr. Romantic?”

  I tickle her sides. “Feed me, woman.”

  She swats away my hands and lifts a challenging brow at me. “Woman? Are you a cave man now?”

  Gesturing to the crevasse, I flash her a wolfish grin. “Technically yes. But I’ll make sure to fuck you in there soon just so we don’t have any confusion.”

  * * *

  * * *

  It’s been six weeks since the bear accident. Dad—Reed—is better. He walks around, chops wood, hunts, and does a million other chores. And then when we fall into bed at night, he relentlessly makes love to me. We’re careful to always pull out, aside from the one or two accidents in the beginning.

  I’m so thankful he’s back to normal though because lately, I’m exhausted. Winter is harsher than I could have imagined. The wildlife is plentiful here but I’m dying for something besides meat. We try not to touch our canned foods we have from the RV and trailer but twice now I’ve begged—and offered sexual favors in exchange—for a can of fruit.

  My stomach grumbles at the thought of more peaches.

  When I roll over onto my stomach to silence my grumbling belly, I’m sad to see Dad is already out of bed and nowhere to be found. I get a whiff of the meat we’ve stored in the cave and it turns my stomach. Gagging, I clamber out of bed and grab the bucket just in time to expel my guts.

  I’m sitting there feeling sorry for myself when a thought occurs to me.

  I haven’t started my period.

  Counting backward, I realize I’ve gone nearly two months with no cycle.

  Oh, God.

  And I’m nauseous this morning.

  Oh, God.

  My boobs are sore and I’m incredibly fatigued.

  Oh, God.

  When I bring my palm to my stomach, I notice that it’s slightly swollen. I’d not paid much attention before but now I’m cataloging everything.

  I’m pregnant. I have to be. At seventeen.

  Instead of fretting like a normal human would, my heart swells with happiness. A baby. We made a baby. Out of love. It won’t be just us two all alone. Happy tears stream down my cheeks. I want to tell Dad but I’m afraid of how he’ll react. He’s been grumpy lately and I don’t know why. I think he’s stressed about something but I’m not sure what. I’ll have to tell him next time he’s in a playful mood.

  When I hear his boots clomp up on the porch, I let out a squeak and quickly snag a hoodie to pull on over my head. He steps inside, a cold rush of air sweeping in with him, and regards me with a frown.

  “What?” I sound guilty and desperately try to hide it. I’m glad the bucket is in the corner. I’ll have to get rid of the puke when he’s not watching.

  “Bears. I saw two more while out.”

  Panic rises up in my chest. This place is crawling with bears. “Do they smell the skin of the dead one?”

  He rolls his eyes and my chest clenches in pain. “They don’t give a damn about the hide drying out in that tree. They’re curious about our cabin though. I found claw marks near the door like one was trying to figure out how to get in.”

  Terror skitters through me. “What do we do?”

  He frowns. “I’m going to
have to fortify our home better and set some traps.” His eyes are tired and he looks older today as if he badly needs a nap. “Are you going to lay in bed all day like your goddamned mother or help?” he snaps.

  I gape at him in confusion. What the heck is his problem today? “Reed—”

  “Just put some clothes on and help me. There’s a ton of shit to do,” he barks out and storms from the cabin.

  I burst into tears.

  “I’m tired,” I whine, my arms weak from holding the heavy pine tree on one end.

  He ignores me as I trudge through the snow behind him. It’s been a week since I figured out I was pregnant. Each day is the same. Morning sickness. Fatigue. Sore breasts. Cravings for that stupid fruit. But what’s the worst is that I cry at the drop of a hat. This seems to make Dad mad every time. He hasn’t touched me in I don’t know how long and I spend my nights sniffling in the darkness. I don’t know what to do.

  “Put it down,” he barks out when we’re near the cabin.

  I drop the thin tree on my end and dust off my gloves. He drops to his knees and whips out his knife. Just like he’s done the other twelve trees so far, he starts carving one end into a sharp point. He’s driving each one into the earth, braced by a fence-type thing he made and pointing the sharp end away from the cabin. His theory is that if a bear comes up, they’ll impale themselves on the wood long before they ever get to us. The spiked trees are horrifying to look at—like we’re in the middle of a zombie apocalypse or something. Dad doesn’t care though. He throws himself into his job.

  While he works, I let my mind drift to the past. When he never looked at me with angry eyes.

  Snakes.

  Everywhere.

  Eating me alive.

  It’s the same nightmare I’ve had for four years, ever since my brother died from a snake bite.