Exotika 03 - On the Loose

by Tesni Morgan

  She slipped away, dreams clouding her mind, weird situations and events, a world of strange happenings. She was in a forest, pine needles forming a rough carpet beneath her bare feet, and she was draped in a transparent garment, her body gleaming through it. She was floating, suddenly lifted above the treetops, held in great arms. A powerful entity was carrying her away. She heard the rush of mighty wings and surrendered to this creature, half man, half god. She dared to look at him, for there was no doubt it was male, and his face shone golden, exquisite features, slanting eyes that almost blinded her with their radiance, blue-black curls that fell down around his muscular shoulders. He was naked. She felt the surge of his huge phallus before he raised her to his lips, her body lying across his arms, his fleshy tongue parting her delta and sucking her clit.

  She was plunged into darkness, coming awake, but the lips were still on her cleft, human this time, not godlike. Someone was in bed with her. More than that, he was now possessing her with a cock as huge as the entity’s. Leather under her hands again, but now she recognized his personal body odor.

  “David! It’s you, isn’t it?” She was unable to move for the weight pressing down on her.

  He laughed, deep in his chest, and increased his pumping motion, taking her forcefully, robbing her of breath or speech or any sensation. He dug his fingers into her buttocks, no gloves tonight, and she could tell by his frenzy that he was reaching the peak. He gave a sharp cry, his cock jerking inside her, once, twice, thrice, then he groaned and lay prone across her.

  At that moment, light filled the awning and Matt was standing there flashing his torch. He took in the scene at a glance and his face was furious. “What the hell are you doing here?” He loomed over the couple on the ground.

  David recovered his breath and with it his aplomb. He removed himself from Carenza, discarded the condom and straightened his trousers. “Why shouldn’t I be, old boy?” He was maddeningly unconcerned. “It’s my project. I have every right to drop in at any time and see how it’s getting on.”

  “I’m not saying you don’t.” Matt glared at him as he got to his feet.

  Carenza struggled into a sitting position, pulling down her nightshirt with its incongruous print of Winnie the Pooh on the front. “David was just going,” she stammered foolishly.

  “More like just coming.” Matt’s expression of disgust seared right through her.

  “I’m on my way.” David was perfectly cool and highly amused. “The security needs stepping up. Anyone could get in. See to it, will you?”

  “Right, but this is the last time I work for you, and the last order I take.” Matt’s rage impressed Carenza, but not, apparently, David.

  “Suit yourself. Survivor guys are a dime a dozen, all clamoring to be on the tube. I can replace you easily, but not until this is in the bag. You signed a contract. Remember?”

  “Don’t worry. I shan’t let you down.”

  David left without a backward glance at Carenza, but Matt hadn’t finished with her yet. “I was right about you. You’re no better than Laurette or any of those bitches who hang around him wanting to become stars. And I thought you were worth more. How wrong I was.”

  And he stormed out, the flap falling into place behind him.

  Chapter Nine

  Carenza sat there as if turned to stone. She felt like stone too, her emotions suspended. Both the men who had fucked her had left in a most rude and uncaring manner. How dare they? Her anger began to boil and she was disgusted, almost leaping to her feet and finding the stream, even though it was pitch-black out there.

  Why had Matt been so angry? Did he care who shagged her? Or was it because his boss was taking the mickey? Whatever this was all about, it was plain that she was a mere pawn in the game, her feelings of no consequence.

  Sleep was impossible. She’d probably be awake all night. She got up, tucked her nightshirt into her jeans, put on her boots and a jacket and went outside. She wasn’t sure where she was heading, but just had to escape her own thoughts that were buzzing in her brain like a swarm of demented hornets.

  A lamp swung in the breeze, lighting the way between the awnings and embers glowed in the banked-up fire. The silence was absolute. There was no sign of Matt, but one could never be sure where he was, for he was as light-footed as an Indian brave. But she had the instinctive feeling that she was alone. She wanted company, most desperately, but guessed that Joanna and Vicky would be sleeping in their lovers’ arms. Maybe Phil was awake? Larry had taught her that a gay man was often a girl’s best friend.

  Light shone through the sides of his awning and she was about to enter when a sound drew her to a standstill. She hard voices murmuring, low masculine voices. The entrance flap was part open and Carenza was transfixed.

  Phil stood in the center of the floor, his arms stretched above him, while Darrell slowly eased up his white T-shirt. Phil’s sun-browned chest came into view, bare of hair. Darrell cupped his pectorals as if they were a woman’s breasts and pinched the erect nipples. Phil took a pace back, then reached out and caressed Darrell’s cock. It strained upward under his jeans, growing stiffer as Phil massaged it. Now they were close together, lips meeting in a hungry kiss, open mouth to open mouth.

  Carenza couldn’t tear herself away, fascinated by the beauty of their bodies as they undressed, powerful, handsome men worshipping each other. She wanted to worship them, entranced by their grace. Two cocks jutted from nests of hair, one circumcised, one uncut, each impressive, upright as lances, with fiery helms and tightening balls. They broke apart, smiled and kissed again then Darrell led Phil to the bed. He lowered himself on top, rotating his hips, his cock wet as it rubbed against Phil’s belly. Darrell shifted down and slurped at the eager organ.

  He didn’t take the other man to completion. He eased him over onto his stomach and massaged his back, going all the way down until his fingers disappeared between his bottom cheeks. Phil moaned as he hugged the pillow. “Don’t stop. Rim me, rim me, please!”

  Darrell’s tongue replaced his fingers and he ran the tip around Phil’s asshole, repeating the action and Phil cried, “Suck my cock again.”

  He turned agilely and Darrell went down on him, taking the long, thick penis between his lips and mouthing it vigorously until Phil spurted, his semen creaming his partner’s face. Darrell put on a condom, then eased himself between Phil’s buttocks, finding the narrow entrance. Phil lifted his legs and embraced Darrell’s body, welcoming him in. He pumped slowly at first, and Carenza watched breathlessly. She was enthralled. It was a new experience, totally different to when she had seen Kieran entering Laurette. This was a ritual, a manifestation of the “faith”, and she found nothing repulsive about it. She was rapidly learning that there were no rules between consenting adults. Each to his or her own.

  Darrell was gaining speed now, clawing at Phil, and they were both grunting as the dominant male chased his orgasm. Then Darrell cried out his ecstasy and slumped on Phil, kissing his neck and murmuring love words. Feeling that she was intruding in something very private and intimate, Carenza crept softly away into the darkness and loneliness of the night.

  * * * * *

  Everyone was expected to rise early, just as soon as the camera crew arrived to start another day’s filming. It was Vicky’s turn to make breakfast and she was there when Carenza joined her, moaning, “Look at me slaving away over a hot cooking pot! Who’d have thought it, eh? My nails are ruined. They’ll never be the same again. And it’s porridge again, gray and gooey and made by my own fair hand.”

  The others were groaning and stretching, emerging from their sleeping places, and Carenza didn’t dare look at Darrell and Phil, though they seemed as normal as could be. It was chilly at that hour, an orange sun rising to spread its tepid warmth over the vegetation, a light mist forming as the verdure began to dry out.

  Matt stomped into the glade and one glance at his face told Carenza that his black mood hadn’t dissipated. He barked orders to this one and that,
but ignored her. It was as if she had become part of the background, a thing of no value or consequence. This riled her and she had the urge to do something outrageous that would really annoy him. She sat by the fire and spooned hot porridge into her mouth. It was surprisingly tasty, making her suspect that Vicky knew more about cooking than she let on. Hardly the sort of thing a high-flying fashion designer would admit to, hinting at humble beginnings and a struggle to get where she was now.

  “Good morning, campers!” Tommy could be a pain in the butt with his everlasting cheerfulness, a skill learned at the start of his career, when he was a working in burlesque. But it was infinitely preferable to Kieran’s arrogance and Laurette’s sulks. He came over to where Carenza sat and helped himself to a mug of tea from the billycan. A sturdy little man with a round, smiling face that hid a darker side.

  Matt paced around, running a critical eye over the state of the site. It was supposed to be kept spick-and-span and he was in the mood to find fault with everything. The cameras rolled discreetly in the background and it was easy to forget they were there.

  “I’m splitting you into two teams today,” he barked. “Tommy, Darrell, Kieran and Phil will be digging a new trench for the latrine. Vicky, Joanna and Laurette are to set traps and clear away debris. The place is a disgrace!”

  “What about me?” Carenza hated to be ignored by him.

  “I have something special for you.” He looked at her levelly under frowning brows. “You’re coming climbing. With me.”

  “You’ve got to be joking.”

  “It is necessary to prepare the way for a trek up Bryn’s Folly. It’s easy when you know how, and the rest of you can do it tomorrow.”

  “Why me?” Carenza’s chin lifted stubbornly.

  “Because I say so. But if you insist on a reason, then it’s because you pride yourself on being more capable than the rest, Miss Know-it-All.”

  “That’s bullshit!”

  He slanted her a mocking glance. “Exactly what I think about your comments. We’ll see. Today will make or break you. Go and get ready.”

  “Like I have a choice?”

  “You’ve got it in one.”

  “Lucky old you. He fancies you rotten,” hissed Joanna, rounding up the dirty dishes.

  “Don’t be daft!” Carenza glared at her.

  “Catch you later. Have a nice day.”

  Carenza was furious. There had been absolutely no call for Matt’s nasty comments. She didn’t doubt her ability to keep up with him, but disliked the idea of spending hours in his objectionable company. Why couldn’t he have taken one of the men?

  “Are you fit?” he shouted when she emerged from her tent, a haversack over her shoulder.

  “As I’ll ever be. Where are the cameras?”

  “No cameras. I have a camcorder and will keep a record of our progress myself. The rest are staying here, filming us as we leave and when we come back.”

  “Jesus! So that means we’re alone?”

  He gave a wolfish grin in which there was no humor or light. “That’s about it, Miss Hewitt. Now then, quick march. We’ve wasted enough time already.” He set off through the woods and she had no option but to follow.

  At first, the way was no more difficult than other expeditions Carenza had been on during that eventful week. Matt went on ahead and they didn’t speak. Within an hour the camp was way below them, a thin coil of smoke marking its existence. She had been aware that they were rising steadily. The view, glimpsed between pine trees, was breathtaking. David had been right. Wales was beautiful. A valley stretched toward the distance, its slopes dotted with woolly sheep, matching the fluffy clouds that floated in the pale blue sky. The sea was far away, but glimpsed as a sparkling line on the horizon. Matt recorded most of the time.

  The hill they climbed became steeper, the terrain rough and stony. Perspiration dewed Carenza’s face and trickled under her arms and between her breasts. She took off her anorak and slung it over the pack on her shoulder. Matt seemed unaffected, but stopped when they came to a grassy plateau. “Time for a break before we tackle old Bryn himself.”

  “Why does everything have to be masculine?”

  “It doesn’t.” He shrugged, then fixed the camera on its tripod and left it running. He unpacked the food bag. “What the hell anyway? Male, female, neuter, it’s only a figure of speech. You’re too wired, prickly as a porcupine. Chill out, Miss Hewitt.”

  “Why d’you call me that?” It really riled her, a term of mockery, not respect.

  “That’s your moniker, isn’t it?” He unwrapped sandwiches from their foil shroud and handed them across to her.

  Carenza took one, all too aware that there was no living soul for miles, only the nosy cinematic eye. She and Matt were isolated, here on the mountainside. It must have been like this in Eden, she thought. Did Eve lust after Adam as I am now doing? I know it’s wrong, foolhardy, even insane. But I long to have him touch me and for last night never to have happened. Trust David to mess things up for me, good and proper.

  But you enjoyed it, didn’t you? mocked the demon perched on her shoulder. You can’t help yourself when it comes to being mastered by him, no matter what.

  David wasn’t there now. Only she and this craggily handsome man, with his large frame and long legs, sleek hips and tight-muscled ass, his bravery and know-how and confident attitude. She despised herself for experiencing these schoolgirl feelings of admiration, remembering his careless behavior toward her, but couldn’t help quivering inside every time he looked at her. Like many another woman who prided herself on being emancipated, she responded, willy-nilly, to the alpha male.

  She sat there glumly, tucking into food prepared by Vicky. Matt produced a water bottle and handed it to her. “Not too much, although we can fill it again at the next stream.”

  “Will it be pure?” She disliked the idea of water that didn’t come out of taps or bottles bought in the supermarket.

  “As the driven snow,” he returned with that superior curl of the lip that annoyed her intensely, but made her yearn to kiss him. “How can you ask that when you’re used to drinking recycled London crap? This comes from the mountaintop, baby. It couldn’t be fresher.”

  “Don’t ‘baby’ me!” she snarled. “And stop being so bloody right all the time.”

  “Right? Moi?” he exclaimed, and rested his shoulders against a boulder, booted feet crossed, pelvic area thrown into prominence. His eyes were slits beneath the broad brim of his hat.

  She decided not to mince matters any further, sitting bolt upright and demanding, “What’s your purpose in bringing me here? Is it to punish me for having David last night? I can assure you that I didn’t know it was him…not to begin with. He’s done it once before, disguised in leather, like he was then. I don’t know why he came. I didn’t invite him.”

  “So you let who you thought was a complete stranger shaft you? I don’t know which is worse, but I’ll tell you this for free…I don’t give a fuck who you screw.” His tone was belligerent, every word razor-sharp. Carenza was surprised how much it hurt.

  “I don’t know. I thought…imagined…that maybe you felt something for me after we’d made love in the hut.”

  “Is that what it was…making love? I was under the impression that it was just a fuck.” His voice was as chilly as one of those mountain streams.

  “You’re impossible!” She leapt up. “Let’s get this damned walk over and go back to the others. I don’t want to be here with you a minute more than necessary. Is that camera still on? I hope you’ll have the decency to edit out this conversation.”

  “I call the shots. And I fully intend to give myself another half-hour break. Like it or lump it. As for the film? That’s for David and the editor to decide.”

  Fuming, Carenza sat down again, staring at the view, arms clasped around her raised knees. Matt tipped his hat over his eyes and appeared to be asleep, his hands linked across his chest. If I had a knife, she thought bitterly, I could c
ut his throat. That would stop the bugger talking and pissing me right off.

  Thoroughly bored and at the end of her tether, she decided that she’d had enough. She got to her feet and picked up her bag. At once his lids flew open. “Where the hell d’you think you’re going?”

  “Anywhere. I’m out of here.”

  He propped himself on his elbows. “Did I say you could go?”

  “Oh, shut the fuck up!” She blazed with anger. “How dare you police my conscience?”

  In one fluid movement he was on her like a striking panther. “Your conscience? Do you have one?” He seized her by the shoulders and shook her. “I don’t give a shit about your dirty little affairs, but out here I’m in charge and you’d better not forget it. Now, let’s get on while the light lasts.”

  “It’s not me that’s holding us up…it’s you.” She was furious with herself more than him, and for the mayhem his touch caused in her. “Give me a minute. I need to wee.”

  “I’ll come with you.”

  “You certainly will not.” She was rigid with indignation.

  “Don’t worry. I won’t look. I’m not into water sports. I just want to be sure you don’t run off.”

  “Bloody hell, you’d better not peek!”

  She turned on her heel and made for the bushes. The lack of toilets was what she missed most about civilization. She lowered her pants and squatted, thinking that this was where men had the advantage. They could stand and urinate, retaining some kind of dignity, but women had to adopt an almost subservient posture, unless they were naked, of course, when they were able to spread their legs and do it standing. Carenza was always worried about nettles and insects and nasty creepy-crawlies stinging her privates, and hurried over the job, missing toilet paper wipes, and dragging up her jeans, cursing Matt and David and the whole uncomfortable situation.