Exotika 03 - On the Loose

by Tesni Morgan

  Laurette quickly recovered and Carenza half expected her to repeat her performance with Kieran. Joanna and Eddie were washing one another, seeming to revel in the intimacy. Vicky was being assisted by Clem. Though he had stayed in the camp, he was willing to help those who returned, particularly the women.

  Carenza splashed herself all over, enjoying the sensation of cool, cool water, then without warning someone surfaced next to her, half obscured by reeds. Arms came around her, drawing her to a muscular body and Matt was holding her, water spiking his eyelashes and drenching his hair.

  “You did real good today,” he said, his voice low and she shivered as he held her, his chilly flesh pressed to hers, his cock a solid rod pressing between her thighs.

  “Thank you.” She didn’t know what else to say, hoping that none of the others could see them.

  “When are we going to get it together?” His hands were on her breasts, warming them.

  “You’re nothing if not persistent.” His face was so close that she could see the stubble on his jaw, the water running in rivulets to his chest.

  “I never give up,” he said, and squeezed her closer. “Something tells me that you’re not doing too well with David.”

  “Does it indeed. Then you’re wrong. He took me to his secret underground vault.”

  His grip hardened and he was no longer smiling. “Did you enjoy it?”

  “Yes, it was most enlightening.”

  “I’ll bet it was.” He let her go and dived under the water.

  She thought he had gone, but then felt his touch, and he rose up like a merman, propelling her into the misty green shade of the overhanging willow. There he lifted her legs and positioned them ‘round his waist. She made no move to get away, remembering how excited she had been when she watched Laurette and Kieran. Now she was astride a naked man, half in, half out of the water and he was kissing her and preparing her clit and impaling her on his stiff cock.

  She clung to him, arms around his neck, receiving his kisses, accepting his penetration, warm within and chilled on the surface. Mythical dryads must have done it like this, their wraithlike bodies impaled on the pricks of satyrs, half man and half goat. The situation was surreal and very arousing. She had never felt like this with anyone before. She seemed to be a part of Matt, as if their souls were joined as well as their bodies.

  She wriggled her pubis, but couldn’t get enough pressure on her clitoris. Matt sensed this, using a hand on her and bringing on her orgasm. She stifled her cry of pleasure and felt him pumping into her, but pulling out at the last moment as he wasn’t wearing a condom. He came, his fluid mingling in the water. Then they rested, still clasped close, the water rippling around them. They didn’t speak, but made sure that they left the bower separately, in tacit agreement that no one should know their secret.

  The evening was spent pleasantly enough, and the group was only too happy to rest. Matt had told them they were to split into two sections tomorrow and take part in war games, equipped with guns that fired red-staining blanks. Carenza couldn’t get the incident in the water out of her mind, trying to avoid looking at him.

  “Oh, shit!” Laurette groaned, wrapped in a bath towel that kept slipping, giving tantalizing glimpses of her breasts, her long legs and a flash of shaven pussy.

  Matt frowned. It seemed he was the only man there who didn’t get excited when looking at this flagrant display of her sexual attributes. “You have a complaint, Miss Upton?”

  “No, no.” She fluttered her lashes at him. “I just adore being made to walk miles, then dunked in water, dragged up hill and down dale and shot at.”

  “Talk to David about it,” Matt advised. “I’m obeying his instructions.”

  “Ignore the silly cow.” Phil was toasting his toes at the fire and freeing his long curls from the restricting band that held them back.

  “You’d better watch it.” Laurette’s eyes flashed. “You seem to forget that I have influence with the TV bigwigs. I could get you sacked.”

  “Try it, ducky.” He bristled like a scalded cat. “I think you’ll find that the public like me better than you.”

  “We’ll see about that in the popularity ratings after this charade is over.” She was determined to have the last word.

  “I wish I hadn’t sent the cameramen home.” Eddie was hovering around Joanna. “This is just the kind of conflict we want. Hang on. I’ll get out my camcorder. Just you two go on bitching at one another, as vicious as you please.”

  Carenza could feel her eyelids drooping. She was tired and confused by her conflicting emotions. Matt or David? Which one did she want? She was no longer sure. She crawled off to find her bed. She slept and when she woke the camp was quiet, the glade filled with moonlight and the rustle of night hunters.

  Then she came fully awake, aware that she wasn’t alone. There was someone under the awning with her, a shape, darker even than the shadows. Before she could move or cry out, she was grabbed and a gloved hand placed over her mouth. This was reality, not a nightmare. There was someone there, very real, very solid, showing no mercy. Her assailant was a man, his strength and the pressure of his erection left her in no doubt as he spread her legs and tried to force it into her.

  She beat at him in the dark. Her fingers encountered a hard surface—the texture of leather. This thing, apparition or human, was dressed in it entirely, apart from his naked phallus. He made no sound. His face, his hair, every part of him was obscured, no human feature, no voice to betray his identity. Even his personal body odor was masked by the animal smell of hide that was as exciting as it was foreign. She fought him, but it was useless.

  She managed to tear her mouth free. “Who are you? What do you want?”

  He made no reply, gagging her again with his hand. Could it be Matt? she wondered as she kicked and thrashed. Would any of the other men be trying it on? She was furious and frightened, yet strangely aroused. The responsibility for her actions had been taken from her entirely. This man, whoever he was, had decided to take the initiative. It was an utterly freeing sensation and she found herself submitting, becoming a primitive female overpowered by a dominant male.

  She had a sudden inkling who he might be, almost impossible though it was. He was at Tretowyn Manor, wasn’t he? And yet—and yet there was something familiar about him. He thrust a knee between hers and eased himself into position and she thought she recognized the length and girth of his cock. He showed no concern about her satisfaction, intent on seeking his own, her cry stifled by his hand. It was over in a second. He gave a final savage thrust, then withdrew. She was released from his crushing weight and her mouth freed.

  She fumbled for the torch by the side of her sleeping bag, wasting time locating it. At last its beam lit up the interior, but she was alone. Whoever it was had vanished.

  Chapter Eight

  David chuckled wickedly as he walked back the half mile that separated the camp from his car. At the same time he was infuriated by the lack of security. Any pushy member of the paparazzi could have got in easily. He’d have to take Matt to task.

  Earlier in the evening, he had called at the lodge, checking the footage and consulting with Eddie who had come over to meet him, along with the head honcho in charge of the camerawork. It looked good, even pre-editing—quirky and original—a fly-on-the-wall documentary giving away secrets. It was like prying into someone’s bedroom and would enthrall the viewers who had Peeping Tom tendencies. He anticipated a runaway success.

  After having supper there, he had said he was going back to the manor, but headed in the opposite direction. He had driven quietly and carefully, doused the lights and ignition, then changed into black leather. He had worn gloves and a mask and a close-fitting hood. He had melted into the woods, absorbed in the darkness and the ensuing episode with Carenza had exceeded his wildest dreams.

  He didn’t think she had guessed who it was and this amused him. Let her be puzzled. Let her try and put two and two together and come up with fiv
e. But she had not been able to prevent herself from responding, aroused by the situation and getting off on being scared. A cynical smile curved his lips as he unlocked the car and changed into sweater, jogging pants and sneakers. Weren’t all women the same? Thrilling at a modicum of danger and mystery? And Carenza more than most, or so it seemed, too sheltered for her own good. I’ll soon correct that, he promised himself, and enjoyed the drive through the brooding darkness to his turreted stately home, his brain teeming with plans for the continued sexual education of his latest conquest.

  * * * * *

  Her heart was banging in her chest so loudly that Carenza was sure the enemy would hear. She stood behind a tree, with Phil a step away and Joanna crouching on the ground with Tommy covering her. They were dressed like the cast of Platoon and armed with war-game missiles.

  Another one of Matt’s bright ideas, she thought irritably. After last night’s scary episode, she would have liked to put in a complaint in order to relieve her nettled feelings, but it sounded pathetic and silly to say, “There was a man in my tent, at least I think it was a man, could have been a ghost except that his cock was very much alive. Did I scream or raise a ruckus? Well, actually not. You see, in my heart of hearts, I guessed who it was.”

  She decided that it was best to keep her mouth shut but—by God, she’d make David pay for it! Bloody arrogant swine!

  “Watch out.” Phil was looking remarkably macho in khaki. His fans would never have believed it. Gone were the brassy blonde wig, the false eyelashes, miniskirt, black stockings and stilettos that they recognized and loved.

  “I am.” Carenza lifted her rifle. “Can’t let Vicky and Kieran and Darrell beat us, can we? To say nothing of Laurette.”

  “Wouldn’t give her the satisfaction. Stuck-up tart! I’d love to smack her in the gob with a big red splotch of ammo!”

  Carenza stifled a giggle, feeling cheerful for the first time that day, more annoyed with David than she cared to admit. On the other hand, it was flattering to think that he had gone to all that trouble to screw her. He’s a control freak, she concluded. That’s what he wants with me—control. Well, he won’t get it! She hadn’t told anyone, too humiliated and raw to put it into words.

  There was a scuffle in the bushes ahead and a helmet popped up, followed by a bang and Tommy cursing. He was hit. A realistic-looking stain spread out over his jacket. He did a super-dramatic death, flopping down on the grass. Carenza envied him. He was now out of the combat and could go back to base, although this would mean he was on kitchen duty.

  “Come on.” Phil was really getting into it and bounded from cover, yelling like a maniac and giving chase to Laurette who had shot Tommy.

  The others followed and there was a confusion of fire. Carenza was struck on the upper arm, a missile spreading fake blood. She didn’t fall, yelling and gaining ground, pursuing the enemy up a slope and trapping them. They threw down their arms, having run out of ammunition.

  Matt appeared from nowhere. “That was fine, but you, Phil, walked right into the trap. They could have ambushed you. Be more cunning next time.”

  “Oh hell! Is there going to be a next time?” Phil groaned, then brightened. “Does this mean I shall get a medal?” He was considerably harder than he made out, having started his career in northern workingmen’s clubs. If a drag queen could survive that, then he could survive anything. That’s where he had developed his waspish tongue, following a deprived childhood in the back streets of Manchester. Now it seemed he had turned into a guerrilla leader overnight.

  “I’ve other treats in store first.” Matt gave a crooked smile. Of all the other male celebs, Phil had an understanding with him, both tough as old boots.

  They returned to camp exhausted, but Carenza was curiously elated, a thrill warming her blood as she anticipated darkness. Would her mysterious lover return? No mystery really. The more she thought about it, the more convinced she became that it was David. But first she found the pool and washed off the sweat and grime, becoming accustomed to the all-seeing eye of the camera. Into clean jeans and sweater, her wet hair scrunched, a dab of makeup and she was ready to eat.

  Laurette was bickering with everyone. She had certainly not taken to the wilds. The camera panned on her as she argued with Tommy concerning the meal he had prepared. “I can’t eat this muck. It’ll give me diarrhea!”

  “Maybe that’s what you need, a strong bowel movement. You act like a constipated mare.” Phil dived into the tinned steak and kidney pie and mushy peas, well aware that he was being filmed and keeping up this double act.

  “You’d know about that, of course,” Laurette ground out. “Having to make sure your ass is clear for punters.”

  “Ooh, listen to her.” Phil was all limp wrists and wide eyes. “Sounds like she knows about fucking up the back way, doesn’t it, guys?”

  “And you sound like a nagging old fishwife, and look like one,” she returned smartly.

  “Right.” Matt was impatient with this backbiting. “Time to wash the pots. Don’t forget to do it downstream. Keep things tidy. Hook mess tins and cooking utensils on branches. Never leave the fire unattended. Get to it, Joanna.”

  Joanna jumped to her feet. “Yes, sir!”

  “I’ll lend a hand,” Eddie offered.

  “You don’t have to. You’re the director.”

  “I want to.” He started stacking the dirty dishes in a wire container for easy transport.

  Laurette was making a show of tidying up, aided by Kieran, and Vicky was deep in a discussion with Clem about first aid. Carenza had never felt more alone. The other girls would not be sleeping by themselves that night. All she could hope for was a nocturnal revenant, treating her rather like one of the brides of Dracula. If David comes again, I’ll tackle him, she vowed. He won’t get off scot-free next time, playing silly games with me.

  Her friends had wandered off with their respective lovers, and Laurette had disappeared with Kieran. Carenza looked across the glade, beyond the fragrant woodsmoke coiling upward into the dusky blue of evening. Without any urging on her part, her loins contracted. Matt was lounging on the ground, his back against a fallen log, arms folded behind his head, long legs stretched out and crossed at the ankles, his bush hat canted over his eyes. Was he asleep or simply meditating on the next day’s events? The responsibility for their safety rested on his shoulders. She had to admit that he was looking remarkably tasty. If only they had met under different circumstances, then maybe they would have had something permanent going between them.

  His presence made her restless and she took the pathway that led to the stream. It was darker there and, for a moment, she considered turning back, then caught a sound a little way ahead. Moving as silently as she could, she stepped closer. At first she couldn’t make out who it was, thinking that she saw a figure there, then realizing it was two, one with its back to her, the other pressed against a tree. They were so absorbed in what they were doing, that they didn’t hear her.

  She stood stock-still. It was Kieran and Laurette and she wanted to run away, unwilling to watch them at it again. He had her penned in. Carenza glimpsed her mane of hair, and the pale wedge of her face, eyes closed in ecstasy. Her bare legs flashed in the gloom as she scissored them around his waist. He gripped her under the bottom and her arms clasped him close.

  All Carenza felt was distaste, mingled with envy and the longing for real love, not simply desire. Laurette behaved like a randy female cat. The only difference lay in the fact that felines had a season, whereas she was always up for it.

  Turning noiselessly, she crept away, back to camp and her own solitary bed.

  * * * * *

  He didn’t appear last night, she scribbled in her journal, seeking a quiet moment before breakfast. I couldn’t sleep, tossing and turning and wishing I was home. Why did David have to enter my life? Is there any truth in the law of karma? Is there a debt we have to pay one another, accrued in a past existence or is the Wheel of Rebirth so much hogwash
?

  “Are you awake?” Vicky stuck her head through the awning. “It looks as if it might rain, but Matt is planning to teach us all about the flora and fauna, the edible kind, that is. Fancy skinning a rabbit? I think that’s one of today’s lessons.”

  Carenza groaned and replaced her diary in her knapsack. She didn’t want anyone reading it.

  Her body ached from yesterday’s warfare. The wearing of heavy boots for hours on end had given her blisters. She wanted this to be over and her life to revert to normal. Vicky had that glow about her of a woman who has recently made love with a man she really likes. Carenza didn’t envy her, having the impression that Clem, like Matt, was a maverick. But that probably suited her friend, for she always avoided commitment.

  Porridge for breakfast was the order of the day and the cameras were busy. There was a lot of dissention, the participants growing weary of the boring rations and hard slog and there were days to go before it was over.

  “I want you to imagine that you are really lost. You have no food or water. I am going to demonstrate how you can obtain both,” Matt began, as they gathered for instructions. “You need a knife, a bag and a container, preferably polythene with a screw cap.”

  “This is going to be a bunch of laughs. Not,” Laurette muttered.

  “It’s a question of survival.” Matt picked up on this. “You might be glad for it one day.”

  “I don’t think so.” She gave a haughty toss of her head.

  “Oh, come on, Laurette, don’t be a dweeb,” Darrell chimed in. “One never knows what’s going to happen. A terrorist attack is the worse-case scenario. Anything.”