Bears of Burden: THORN

by Candace Ayers

Etienne ripped off his shirt and threw it across the room. His hands seemed to move so quickly that he’d taken off his pants, shoes and socks before his shirt hit the floor.

  He moved to lift her up, but she stopped him again with a touch. “Wait. I must tell you somethings. I am not the fragile woman. You don’t need the soft touches to please me. Also, I like the mans who grunts and howls as he takes me. You can do that too.” She kissed him very quickly. “Stand there, still as the statue. I must pay the attentions to your manhood.”

  She dropped off the stool and fell to her knees. She stroked his half-hard erection. “What a cock. How big and hard. Will it fit inside of me, I wonder? We shall have to make the attempt.”

  She inhaled the head of his cock and sucked. She held onto the shaft with both hands and pumped him up and down. After a minute, she held his walnut-sized balls with one hand and pumped his shaft with the other.

  She lifted her head and licked her lips. Her hands kept doing their job. “Que Magnifique. What a man.”

  She stood up and held her arms out on either side. “I turn myself over to you. Do to me what you want. I am not the doll made of china. I will not break.”

  Etienne picked her up effortlessly with his hands under her arms. He turned and rammed her into the wall and followed up by slamming his body into hers. She said, “Oof. That was strong. I may be broken somewhere.” She smiled. “But I liked it. I really did.”

  Etienne spread her legs with his and pushed himself against her hips. She wrapped her legs around his waist and clasped her hands in back of his neck.

  She pulled him in for a kiss. He pushed against her and the back of her head bumped against the wall.

  Etienne supported her with his hips blocked against hers. He broke the kiss and leaned back. Veronique said, “What will you do to me now?”

  Etienne ran his coarse hands over her chest and breasts then her shoulders and neck. He didn't stop for many minutes. The harsh skin on his palms rubbed her delicate skin like sandpaper. He didn’t stop. Veronique looked at him in wonder as her skin became hot and red. She said, “That is new. I know nothing of this thing you do. I like it.” She grabbed his hands and put them directly on her breasts again. “Do my lovely pillows. I want to see what you do to me. What it makes inside me.”

  Etienne made his hands more forceful. Her breasts glowed a deep red. He paused from time to time to pinch and twist the delicate flowers on the tips of her breasts. She rested her head against the wall and closed her eyes. She held his wrists with her hands and encouraged him.

  Abruptly, her breathing slowed down and her eyelids opened halfway. She groaned. “That is so wonderful. Never have I felt this before.”

  She began to gulp and work at breathing. It seemed to her that the air in the little room had become thick with the essence of aroused bodies. She inhaled deeply, smelling his intense male odor and her elegant female smell riding along on top of it. She felt her body melt into his at that moment.

  She moved her hips around and let them drop down. She found his cock and nestled it into her entrance. Her sleepy eyes met his. Her voice was little more than a whisper, “Go slowly, mon amor. You don’t want to hurt me, do you?" She waited until he shook his head. “Bon. I can make you very happy with the loving and the cooking, but I won’t be hurt.”

  She sunk down a few inches, groaning and whimpering. She closed her eyes. “This does hurt, but I need to feel it hurt me.” She opened her eyes enough to see him. “Do you understand? You are taking me, but I also am taking you. The hurt tells me that you are mine. I have to hurt to win you. It is what the woman does for her man.” She sunk down all the way, whining and moaning over every inch of his penetration.

  He filled her completely. She opened her eyes again just a little bit. “We do not do any further for a moment. I must get used to your size. You are the very big man. It is nice for me, but it will take a bit of time to grow accustomed to you.” She smiled. “Is it the right word in the English? ‘Accustomed’?”

  Etienne said, “Yes. Perfect.” She smiled again. “You haven’t made the talk before now. You have the deep, manly voice I enjoy.” She sighed from all the way down. She kept sighing and moving her hips around. She lowered herself down even further. After a few minutes, she smiled. Her face relaxed into happy acceptance. “Bon, I have made the adjustment. More.”

  Etienne whirled around and put her on the bed on her back. He kept his penetration of her body. She smiled and pulled her knees higher on his back. “Mount me, my stallion. Do not be the gentleman. I want you to be rough in your taking of me.”

  Etienne pounded into Veronique. Her belly and breasts shook with the force of his blows. She smiled as he did it.

  They held the same rhythm and penetration for a long time. Suddenly, Veronique’s mouth fell open and her eyes retreated up into her head. She arched her back and trembled like land suffering an earthquake. Her arms flailed against the bed, and she cried out in time with the contractions of her orgasm.

  Etienne lifted his face to the ceiling and howled in triumph. Veronique recovered enough to grin at his compliment.

  Male voices howled in response on either side of them. Veronique laughed, "We have made the hit with the others doing the same thing."

  Etienne started his climb to orgasm. He paused enough to groan, “Baby?” before he increased the depth and tempo of his movements.

  Veronique touched his cheek. “My sweet. I want your babies. Make your seed inside me. Maybe we’ll have the luck.”

  She felt him stiffen and lengthen then stop. His pulsing, pumping cock delivered ten bursts of semen inside her. She curled her body toward him as he did it. She groaned long and low and closed her eyes.

  He fell down on her, letting all of his weight press her into the mattress. He mumbled, “Too heavy?”

  She brought him closer with her legs around his rump and her arms around his chest. “No, mi amor. It is the weight I deserve. I earned it. I have given you myself and this is my reward.”

  The next morning, they made love again. Veronique paused on her way to the bathroom. Etienne sat on the bed and watched her. She said, "Now, it is the morning. You are happy with your cummings in my body and relaxed. The passion doesn't push you so much at this moment. Last night, I said I would ask again. We will be together as one person for the rest of our lives, leaving out any other who would intrude? What is your answers, big fellow? Are you man enough to keep me happy?”

  Etienne got up quickly, with surprising grace, and held her in his arms. He kissed her with commitment. When the kiss ended, she said, "My, you have almost made me aroused like the first time. But you have to say the word. Are we the couples? Are we going to have babies and raise them as one person?"

  His voice was heavy and clear. Veronique knew men. He said, "Yes", and she knew he'd keep his word.

  CHAPTER 3

  They dressed and walked up the street in the little mining town. Dick Harden passed them. He saw Etienne. His expression would have killed lesser men. He spat at Etienne's boots and grumbled something obscene. Etienne paid no attention.

  Veronique said, "Why does that man give you the dislike, mon amor? He has hate in his heart toward you."

  "We worked in the same camp. His axe broke, and he got fired. I had a spare and wouldn't give it to him. It's not my problem."

  Veronique held his arm and made him stop walking. "That is wrong. When someone else wants an important thing, and you can help; you have to help. God will punish you if you don't." She saw that her argument didn't penetrate beyond the surface of his eyes. "Let me ask you the question. What if it had been around the other way, your axe did the breaking and he had the other axe instead. How would you feel?"

  "Same as he does. It's still not my problem."

  "Listen to me. This is important. Do you credit me? Do you think I have the wisdom? Answer me."

  Etienne took a deep breath. "Yes. I credit you with wisdom."

  "Bon. The world makes things even.
If you hurt someone this afternoon, the world makes someone else hurt you tomorrow morning. It goes the other way, backwards, too. If you help someone, someone else helps you. You must give to get. Do you understand?"

  Etienne gave that some thought. "Yes, I understand."

  "You are big and powerful, but that will not always be. Help that man. You will need his help sometimes again."

  Etienne nodded.

  Veronique waited. "Now, my handsome fellow. Now."

  Etienne grinned. "You think I'm handsome?"

  "Yes. Brutish, like the cave mans, but handsome. Why do you stand before me still? Catch up to that mans and help him."

  Etienne ran down the street. Buildings along the way didn't actually shake as he loped past, but they could have. He spotted Dick walking quickly and angrily along the sidewalk. Etienne caught up with him. Dick turned, still angry. "What do you want?"

  "I've got to help you. My woman told me I should have done it yesterday. She's right. Let's get you an axe and get your job back."

  Dick couldn't move. He was so used to life giving him a kick that he couldn't process something nice. Etienne put his arm around his shoulders. "Let's get this done." Etienne steered Dick into a hardware store. They bought an axe and some decent work clothes.

  We don't always see the changes in our life when they happen. They seem too insignificant to notice. Etienne didn't notice his character change at that moment. He looked Dick in the eyes and saw gratitude and something else. Etienne said, "When was the last time you had some grub?"

  "Two days ago. I haven't been paid yet."

  "You can't go without eating. You'll fall over."

  Etienne bought him a meal and gave him enough money to eat for the rest of the week. Dick tried to keep the tears out of his eyes and failed. "Thanks. You rescued me."

  Etienne said, with sincerity, "I'm glad I could help." He ran out of the cafe and found Veronique looking in a store window at some very silly hats. Etienne said, "I made it right. I bought him an axe and some clothes and a meal. I know where the foreman lives. I'll talk to him this afternoon."

  "Very good. It feels better. The giving of the good instead of the bad. It makes you happy, does it not."

  Etienne's face lit up in surprise. "It does." He grinned. "Damn all. That's a surprise."

  Something occurred to Veronique. "He didn't have the meals since when?"

  "Two days. I bought him some grub and gave him some money. He'll be able to eat until he gets paid."

  "Bon." She kissed him on the cheek. "You are the good mans as well as the big one. Bon."

  CHAPTER 4

  Ten years later, Etienne and Veronique, now his wife, moved to the bigger city of Victoria. Etienne worked as a town marshal. Veronique tended to their three children, two girls and a boy.

  It was dinner time. Veronique put food on dishes and set the dishes on a tray. She called, "Angelique, Jean Paul, come for the tray to give to Mrs. Peters."

  A beautiful girl, age eight, and a handsome boy, age seven, ran into the kitchen. Veronique handed Angelique the tray and covered it with a towel. Jean said, "Why do we take food to Mrs. Peters every day, mama?"

  Etienne answered, "Because she doesn't eat if we don't. She loses track of time and forgets."

  Jean continued, "But why do we do it?"

  Veronique said, "We have the communications problem on this. She won't eat unless we take it to her. Comprendre, mon amor?"

  "But why us?"

  Etienne stood up. "Because we can. It's that simple."

  Jean said, "Oh."

  Etienne, his son and daughter carried the food over to Mrs. Peters while Veronique fed the baby. Mrs. Peters was delighted for the food and the chance to visit with her neighbors.

  In 2008, an eighty-year-old Etienne and his seventy-seven-year old wife, Veronique stood, happily, in the basket of a hot air balloon flying over the whales off the coast of Quebec. They made a fine wrinkled, grey-haired couple. They loved their grandchildren and great grandchildren, and it showed in their faces.

  They heard a hissing sound and looked up. The tanks full of propane exploded with enough force to shred everything and everyone in the basket.

  Within seconds, they found themselves standing on the water underneath the obliterated balloon. They stared at each other in surprise. Veronique said, "We are young again." She stared at Etienne. "My darlings, I can see through you. You aren't you, anymore."

  "I also can look at the ocean through your body. It's a lovely body. This is how you looked when I first saw you."

  "We ought to wear some clothes, though, I think. It is more dignified. We might meet others like us."

  Etienne walked across the water and slid his hand into Veronique's body. She giggled, "Etienne, that tickles."

  They said the next words at the same time. "We're dead.

  CHAPTER 5

  “I can’t just strip my clothes off and jump on him. That won’t work,” said Julie

  “Well, it would work, but not the way you want it to,” responded her best friend Monica.

  “That’s true, but I’m getting pretty desperate. I might have to actually give it a try,” she giggled.

  “Jim’s blind. You are hot. There’s not a single guy on campus whose head doesn’t turn when you walk by. I’ve seen it.” She thought for a moment. “I could always put a little birdy in my brother’s ear. I don’t know, just kind of suggest that you might be interested in him in more than a friendly kind of way, or something.”

  Julie was mortified. “Don’t you dare! You know Jim as well as I do. He is not going to find pushiness or over-aggressiveness attractive. This is Jim we’re talking about here. This has to be his idea.”

  Monica knew she was right, which is why she hadn’t said anything thus far. Her brother, Jim, was highly competitive. He had been a basketball star in high school. In fact, Jim excelled over others at most things he tried. Not necessarily because he was naturally gifted, but because he worked harder than the next guy until he was the better of the two.

  As far as women were concerned, he liked to take the lead. Monica always teased him calling him “Mr. Macho”, and saying that he was ultra-picky when it came to women. But, that wasn’t it. He was selective, he called it. He had dated a few women. Jim didn’t want just any woman, and women who threw themselves at men, he felt, lacked dignity and self-respect, as did men who slept with any woman just because she was available to him.

  Julie and Monica both sighed at the same time.

  Julie and Jim had known one another since he was a pimply-faced greasy-haired teenager, and she was a skinned-kneed third grader with braces and a pixie haircut. She and Monica met in third grade, became instant best friends, had been inseparable ever since.

  The problem for Julie was that while she now fawned over the handsome, honorable man Jim had become, he still saw her as the annoying awkward tomboy who hung around with his little sister. If Julie could only catch his eye, capture his attention, she knew they were right for each other. She was pretty sure he’d see it if only he could see her.

  They all lived in Victoria, now a well-ordered and active city. Julie and Monica were seniors at the University of Victoria. Jim was a constable in the Royal Canadian Mounted Police.

  Julie and Monica continued their walk along a forest path on the west side of Vancouver Island. The island is divided along the mountain range that runs north and south down the middle. One side is dense rain forest and the other almost a desert.

  "I love the forest. It's so alive and growing." Julie looked around her. She absentmindedly rubbed her tummy below her navel. "It makes me think it's getting thicker as I look at it."

  "Doesn't it ever make you think it's coming for you? Like it's going to grab your ankle and drag you into the moss and bushes and eat you alive or something?"

  Julie laughed. "Is that what this makes you think of? Monsters in the undergrowth, waiting to take you away."

  "Don't laugh. It's true. Well, anyway, it s
eems to be true." Monica threw a pointed looked at Julie's hand as it made small circles on her body. "Are you baby hungry?"

  Julie studied her hand. It hadn't stopped moving. "Frankly yes, I am. I want Jim's baby,” she giggled, “I could grow it right in here and give birth and raise it. Why can't I?"

  "Because he can't see you!” Monica played along. “No, he won't see you. If he doesn't notice you, he can't plant the seed that makes the baby," she wiggled her eyebrows up and down and flashed Julie a cheesy grin.

  Monica agreed that Julie and Jim would make a perfect couple. They were similar in some ways, and in others their differences seemed to complement one another. Plus, there was the fact that her best friend was almost family already. Heck, if Jim and Julie got married, they would actually be family. Hers and Julie’s children would be cousins, they could plan family reunions together, spend holidays together... If her brother would just get his head out of his arse.

  They looked at each other with dissatisfied faces. Monica said, "Tonight's the party at his frat house. Maybe you can make some progress."

  Her friend Julie was indeed hot Monica thought to herself. She had deep blue eyes and blonde hair and a figure that men who aren’t Monica’s brother, Jim, thought about way too much. Monica was the opposite. She was shorter than Julie and fuller. Julie had longer legs but Monica was more outgoing and flirted much more effectively.

  CHAPTER 6

  In Julie’s bedroom, Etienne and Veronique Beauregard sat on top of a tall dresser; or rather, they sat three inches above the tall dresser because it was dusty. They'd gotten dressed. Veronique said it was not dignified to be naked in polite society alive or dead.

  Veronique wore a dress from the 1920’s; silver with a short skirt and a low neckline. Etienne wore the clothes of a lumberjack; rough pants and a wool shirt with heavy boots. They'd worn the same clothes the first time Etienne saw Veronique in a dance troupe at the local bar. Veronique came west to Vancouver Island because she was tired of polite, slow moving men with no hair on their chests.