by Jean Kilczer
She rummaged through the supplies by her side and handed me a power bar, then rose up on elbows and smiled down at me. Her bare breasts were dark in shadows. I tried not to stare, but failed miserably. “Oh, gee, thanks,” I said. “No doughnuts, huh?”
She kissed the tip of my nose. “Doughnuts are bad for you, Blondie.”
I chewed off a chunk of nuts, granola, and raisins held together by honey. “Gee, Mom, I didn't know. But thanks for this tasty tidbit. Maybe I'll grow.”
She laughed and kissed me full on my lips. I stopped chewing. “I could make you grow.”
“Why, you wanton woman.” I ran my hand across her wet lips.
She played with my hair, then kissed my cheek. I felt myself responding and drew her down against my chest. “You are one beautiful lady,” I told her and stroked her back, her hips, with the bar clutched in my hand.
“Can I have that?” she asked.
I took another bite and handed it to her. “I think I'm going to need the energy.”
She flung the bar over her shoulder.
I was still chewing when she kissed my cheek and nibbled on my ear. Her lips were full and seductive in the shadow of moonlight. I unzipped my sleeping bag and threw it aside. Then I did the same with hers. The sheen of her skin was warm in the caress of the moons. I drew her head down and kissed her lips, her neck, and her bare shoulders. I lifted on my elbows and stroked her, like tracing my fingers across a fine work of art. She shivered as I kissed her shoulder.
“Cold?” I asked and rubbed her shoulder.
“No, just quivers of what's to come.”
I pushed off my shorts and kicked them aside. “Let's work on that.” I kissed her full on her lips, her neck, and down to a breast, then licked her nipple. I felt it harden.
“Oh.” She pressed her palms against my cheeks to hold my head there, and drew in a breath, then kissed me. “When I saw you under that light on the pier, I thought 'Where did this adorable tag come from, and how do I make him my own?' ”
“Was that before or after you threatened me with your dive knife?”
She laughed. “Well, I was a woman alone on that pier at night, and you were holding my livelihood.”
I let my hands roam the curve of her hips. “It's a lot nicer holding you.”
“Are you finished chewing that power bar? I'm sorry I gave it to you.”
I swallowed the last piece and nodded.
“Good.” She laid down on me and spread her legs over my hips. “I know where all that energy went.” She giggled and pushed against me, forcing me to enter her.
“Let's put it to good use.” I spread my hands across her buttocks and pulled her down on me. I coughed on a piece of the bar I'd swallowed wrong.
“Don't choke to death now, OK?”
“I'll try not to.” I coughed again.
She pushed down on me and I rolled her over and pressed in deeper.
“Oh!” she said as I moved inside her, and arched her back.
I cupped her breasts and stroked them. I wanted to bury myself in her until I didn't know where I ended and she began. “Sophia,” I whispered and kissed her. I pushed gently, pressing deeper. But she squeezed my buttocks. I gasped as she brought me down hard.
“Oh,” she cried again, lifted her legs around me and dug sharp nails into my back.
Ouch, I thought. Yet it heightened my passion.
She clutched handfuls of my hair and kissed me full on my lips. “Oh, God, Blondie, I can't hold out much longer.”
“You were waiting for me?” I gasped, and began to thrust.
“Oh. Go deeper!” she cried.
I tried to oblige.
And then the orgasm took over both of us, and there was no more talking as the stars came down like spears of electric ecstasy that pierced our locked bodies.
When it was over, I rolled off her and lay panting. I took her hand and held it. “Was it good for you, dear?” I chuckled.
She squeezed my hand. “Better than catching a ten-pound crusty.”
I nodded. “Nice to be high on your list of priorities.”
* * *
The next morning, with a clear pink sky, we rode through the small mountain town of Bolton Springs, past a general store, a bank, a lumberyard, a recharge station and vehicle repair shop, a church, a firehouse, and Two Sons and a Dad's Tavern. The graveled street was wide and quiet, with a few tags walking or riding by, some on horseback.
Sophia, sitting behind me, directed me to a narrow, winding, uphill dirt road. Two small deer, frightened by the engine's whine, crashed out of the underbrush and plunged into the deep woods.
I stopped the bike and stared into the woods, trying to pick them out. But they were gone.
“What?” Sophia asked.
I pointed at the woods. “Did you see that? Those were Earth deer.”
She hugged my chest. “Some fools imported genetically altered fertilized eggs illegally for ranch hunts. A few young deer got away and now they're pushing out the indigenous herbivores.”
“They could import wolves.”
“They'd rather import hunters, dear. Wolves don't pay for licenses to hunt.”
“Figures.” I tapped the shift lever into gear and continued up the dirt road.
I stopped as we approached a log cabin in a clearing, surrounded by blue-leafed trees with spiky trunks. A smokehouse was set up near the cabin.
A buckskin quarter horse and a white Arabian mare in a corral beside a barn trotted to the fence and whinnied when they saw us. I sat back in the seat. Sophia hugged my chest and rested her head on my back.
“You like it?” she asked.
“Why'd you ever leave?”
“It can get lonely.”
“There are worse things.” I rode up to the front door. We got off, left our helmets on the seat, and walked to the corral.
“Wait.” Sophia took two apples from a bin near the corral, handed me one and gestured toward the buckskin. “His name's Copper.”
I fed him the apple while she fed the Arab mare. I stroked the white mare's arched neck. “What do you call this gorgeous girl?”
“This is Stormy. She's my favorite.”
“Who takes care of them?”
“A neighbor comes by once a day. I pay him with crusties and fish.”
Sophia unlocked the front door and swung it open on a beamed great room with two doors in a short hall in the rear. The aroma of trees emanated from log walls. A blackened fireplace had been swept clean. I walked around an old table with a cracked wooden surface and four chairs, to wash the dirt from my face and hands after the long ride.
The kitchen boasted an ancient stove, a dented refrigerator, and scratched countertops.
“You like?” she asked me.
“More than you know.”
She washed up and scratched through her thick, curly hair. Helmets make your head itchy.
I felt itchy as I watched her, but it wasn't from the helmet.
I embraced her from behind at the sink and kissed her neck. I felt her shiver, but she squirmed out of my arms. “We have to make breakfast, dear,” she said with an edge. “I'm hungry. Aren't you hungry?”
I embraced her again and leaned her back against the sink. “Oh, yeah. But how about dessert first?” I ran my hands through her hair and kissed her.
She smiled. “You're beautiful, Blondie, but breakfast first.”
She pushed me back and took a box of pancake mix from a cabinet.
“I hope it's ready mix,” I murmured.
We got as far as pouring oil into two frying pans and adding the pancake mix.
“Gee, Mom,” I said, “Can I have honey with mine?” I got my hands under her blouse, undid the bra, and stroked her breasts. “Sweeter than honey.” I think I was hotter than the stove.
Sophia relaxed in my arms. She ran her hands over my biceps and I tightened my muscles to make them bulge.
“Oh, Jules!” she whispered and kissed me. “You're a pain
in the ass!”
“I'll try not to be.”
I helped her unzip her pants. She flung off her blouse and bra and pushed down her panties, then kicked them aside and helped me out of my clothes.
“The bedroom!” she gasped.
“The bedroom.” I scooped her up in my arms and she clung to my neck.
We didn't make it.
I laid her down on the table and she wrapped her legs around my hips.
I was pushing into her when I heard a crack. The table collapsed. We were on the floor amid wooden splinters. She was a cat in heat and she brought my passion into realms I'd rarely reached before. If we were getting splinters, we weren't aware of it.
We fought each other's bodies to become one entity. And then the entity exploded in waves and nothing existed except the two of us wrapped in a bubble of ecstasy.
When it was over, I fell off her and lay sprawled on the floor, gasping and choking. My eyes burning.
Choking? My eyes burning? The room was filled with smoke!
“Oh my God!” Sophia jumped up. “We forgot to turn off the pancakes. The cabin's on fire!”
I became aware of an insistent fire alarm screaming its message from the wall.
“Don't open the window!” I yelled as she opened the kitchen window and small flames that raced across the splattering stove top suddenly flared.
“Not water!” I shouted and jumped up as she poured a cupful of water on the stove. The flames spat and sizzled higher.
Flames shot out of the kitchen window.
“Holy shit!” I grabbed her wrist and dragged her out of the front door, coughing and wheezing.
We stood naked, grasping each other's hands, wide-eyed, breathing in gulps of fresh air as we stared at the fire.
“What's that?” The deep whine of a large land vehicle broke the chirping of morning birds into chatter and the beat of wings.
Sophia gasped. “The fire department!”
“Oh, Christ and Buddha! C'mon!” I pulled her along as we ran, naked, for the barn.
We made it inside seconds before the truck roared into the clearing and screeched to a stop by the cabin. Five men jumped down and unrolled the fire hose.
“The tack room!” I said. We flung open the door and squeezed through together.
“Blankets. Blankets!” I exclaimed and looked around.
“Here!” She threw me a rolled blanket and untied one for herself.
We wrapped ourselves in them and watched the firemen from a stall window.
“Should we go out?” Sophia asked and tucked the blanket over her bare breasts."
“How the hell are we going to explain this?” I asked her.
She backed up and shook her head. “I don't think I want to try. The hayloft!”
“OK. The hayloft.”
I held up the bottom of her blanket as she climbed the ladder, and went up after her. We dragged bales of hay near the edge of the loft and hid behind them.
Voices.
“Oh my God!” Sophia cried. “They're coming here. Hide.” She pulled me down below the bales of hay as the barn door opened.
“Sophia?” a gruff male voice called. “You in here?”
We looked at each other, our eyes wide.
“Check the tack room,” the tag said.
I heard the door creak open. “Nope,” another called. “Not in here. Should I check the hayloft?”
[Oh, shit] I thought.
“You know something, Sam,” the first tag said, “if they're up in the hayloft, maybe we better just leave them alone.”
Sam chuckled.
I heard the barn door close.
I laid back on the floor, glanced at the high window and nodded. “That would've been our next escape route.”
Sophia began to giggle.
“What's so funny, woman?” I took her hand and she squeezed mine.
“Maybe with our next tête à tête, we'll burn down the woods.”
Against all odds, I couldn't help giggling with her.
After the fire truck left, we went back to the cabin. A note tacked on the front door announced: Bolton County Fire Dept. Arrived at eight forty-five AM and had the kitchen fire under control by nine AM. Glad to be of service. Will call as a follow-up.
The kitchen held a bitter odor of smoke, but the fire had only burned the doors of a few upper cabinets, and blackened the wall behind the stove and around the window.
I lifted my brows. “It could've been worse.”
Sophia picked up a charred pancake that fell apart in her hand. “I don't know how. I'm all out of mix.”
Chapter Nine
Days blended. A symphony played with bird song, wind through trees like the rushing sound of a wild stream, the fragrance of nature's blend of grasses and wet leaves, and summer squalls that raced through and scrubbed the land clean.
I chopped fallen logs into firewood and repaired the old cabin wherever I could. Sophia got the interior back into shape and put up new kitchen curtains she bought in Bolton.
Nights, we cuddled in front of the fireplace and talked, and made love without burning down anything but our passion, which rose again like the phoenix from flames.
“We're out of meat,” Sophia said one morning. She took down a beam rifle from a rack and checked it.
“What're you going to do with that?” I asked.
“We've got to hunt, Jules. We're out of meat.”
“Can't you just, uh, buy mock meat in the store?”
She laid down the rifle and sat on my lap. “We're out of creds, too, dear.” She smiled and tousled my hair. “Are you a good shot with that stingler?” She nodded toward my weapon, hanging on a nail.
I shrugged. “Well, usually I just sweep the beam until I hit something.”
“OK. Let's take the horses, some supplies, and see if you can sweep us some meat.”
I bit my lip as I strapped on the holster and slipped in the stingler. I was probably not going to be able to do this.
We loaded our camping equipment and some food and water behind the saddles and set off into the thick woods of the higher altitudes.
The sun was already hot on my back when Sophia pointed to animal tracks in the dirt and motioned for me to dismount.
I got off Stormy. “What?” I asked.
“Those are deer tracks. Come on.”
“Come on where?”
She led me to a thick tree and settled behind it.
“What do we do now?” I asked.
She threw me a questioning look. “We wait for the deer, dear.”
“You mean you're going to shoot a deer?”
“Unless you want to jump on his back and wrestle him to the ground, yes.”
“But…”
“Didn't you say you've lived in the wilds?”
“Yeah, but not on deer meat.”
“Well, on what kind of meat, then? It doesn't come packaged, you know. There's deer meat and then there's deer meat. We can't eat most of the indigenous animals, even with digestall. But we can eat modified deer meat, with the pills. What did you live on?”
“Tubers, and, uh, berries, and edible plants, and fruit when I found it.”
“For how long?”
I shrugged. “About a month.”
“What did you do for protein?”
“I caught some fish.”
“Jules, there are no fish in these lakes that a Terran can eat. I'm a good shot. The deer won't suffer.”
I rubbed my eyes. “But he'll be dead for a long time.”
“Ah, Blondie.” She ran her hand through my hair. “If we were herbivores, we could get down on all fours and munch grass. But we're not. You want to argue with nature?”
I exhaled a long breath. “OK. I guess wolves wouldn't be as quick as a beam rifle. But don't take one that's pregnant or one with fawns, and no trophy bucks!”
“Jules,” she said softly, “you insult me. I wouldn't do any of those things.”
I nodded and drew her
closer for a gentle kiss on her lips. “I'm sorry.”
“Get down.”
“What?”
She pointed. “Three of them, coming out of the woods. There. Two bucks and a doe.”
“Oh.” I hunkered down as three small deer, no larger than big dogs, walked quietly out of the woods and along the narrow dirt trail.
“The big buck,” Sophia whispered and raised her rifle.
“But they're so small,” I said.
“Dammit, Jules. They're adults.” She fired.
The buck bleated, and crashed to the ground. I think he was dead before he hit.
“I got the spine,” Sophia said. “That kills them quick.”
The two other deer bolted and leaped into thick woods.
I think I went pale.
“He died within seconds, Jules. When your time comes, it should be so fast.” She got up, brushed leaves off her pants, and strode to the dead animal. “Coming? I could use some help dressing him.”
I stood up. My stomach felt queasy. “I don't feel so good.”
“Well, maybe you'd better go back to the cabin,” she said angrily, “and leave this work for me.”
“Think I will.” I mounted Copper and turned him toward the cabin.
I was shirtless and sweaty as I chopped wood in the late afternoon sun when Sophia came back with the butchered animal in bags tied behind her saddle.
I wiped a hand across my forehead and sighed. I left the axe in a split log and walked over to her as she hefted a bag of meat. “Here, let me help.”
She put down the bag and smiled. “It's OK, Blondie.” Her eyes crinkled as she smiled that broad, full-lipped smile that left me breathless.
“It is?”
“This is all new to you.” She kissed my cheek. “You'll get the hang of it. You look good in sweat.”
That night we built a fire and Sophia opened a bottle of red wine she'd been saving for a special occasion. We sat together quietly on the sofa and sipped wine as we stared into the flames.
“I've been thinking, Jules.” She cuddled closer. “Suppose your friend Joe is on New Lithnia, and he's been trying to get in touch with you by comlink? Have you considered that?”
I nodded. “I tried a dozen times, but in these mountains, all I get is static.”
“Suppose tomorrow, we take a ride to White Peak. I think you might get through to surrounding country from there.”