by S. J. Lewis
Table of Contents
Title Page
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Hunting Party
S J Lewis
ISBN 13: 978-1-934349-97-7
ISBN 10: 1-934349-97-6
A Pink Flamingo Ebook Publication
Copyright © 2008 S J Lewis
All rights reserved
Chapter One
We were just sitting around in the shade, waiting. Well, Jack and I were sitting. Stan kept pacing back and forth across the clearing in the woods where we’d parked our pickup. He never could stand waiting.
“Where the Hell is she?” he said aloud once.
“Take it easy,” Jack replied. “It’s a long way and then a dirt road. She’ll be here. Emma’s never let us down yet, has she?”
Stan muttered something under his breath and went on with his pacing. He usually carried a little thing packed with computer games to help him while away any slow times, but we had a rule that you couldn’t bring any electronics with you on one of our hunting trips. All we had along was one very simple and basic cell phone, for use only in case of emergencies. I settled back against a tree trunk and took a swig from my canteen. We were all city guys. Jack and I really liked our trips out into the wilds. It was a chance to relax, have a little fun, and recharge our batteries. Stan didn’t seem to appreciate getting back to nature as much as we did, but he never passed up a chance to come along with us.
After a while we heard the unmistakable sound of a car coming up the long, narrow gravel road. Jack and I stood up, brushing pine needles off the seats of our pants. Stan gave up his pacing and sauntered over to us. Now that something was happening, he was a lot more relaxed.
A big, black SUV lumbered into view. It stopped broadside to us in the middle of the clearing. The driver’s tinted window slid down noiselessly and Emma smiled and waved to us. She looked for all the world like somebody’s blue-haired, cookie-baking grandma, but she was one of the sharpest businesswomen we’d ever met. We smiled and waved back.
The passenger door opened, and a tall young woman stepped out. She smiled and waved to us as well, but we were too busy picking our jaws up off of the ground to wave back. On second glance, she wasn’t quite as tall as we’d first thought, but those long, strong legs, sheathed in faded denim jeans, made her look taller than she was. She left the door open and began walking over to us. She had nicely rounded hips, but it was impossible to tell how well she was built topside because she was wearing a bulky green and black checked flannel shirt a couple of sizes too big for her with a fleece-lined suede vest over that. As she came closer, we could see that the flannel shirt was unbuttoned halfway down, and there was an oversized black t-shirt under it. We could also see that she had a model’s trick of walking, placing each booted foot directly in front of the other. She wore a black Stetson hat. Long, tawny blonde hair escaped out from under it and rippled down her back almost to her waist. She had a cute face with high cheekbones, big blue eyes and a dazzling smile. There was a light dusting of freckles across the bridge of her button nose.
“Geez,” Jack muttered under his breath to me. “California Girl.”
I couldn’t argue with his assessment.
“Hi,” she smiled as she stopped a few feet away from us, hands on her hips. She tossed her head a little, making her hair sway attractively. “I’m Susan.”
“Hi, Susan,” Stan grinned like an idiot and nodded. “I’m Stan. This here’s Jack and Mike. You mind turning around for us once?”
Her smile got a little sly as she did a slow turn, keeping her hands on her hips. Her hair was long and fine and thick. It swirled along behind her as an afterthought, but what we really wanted to get a look at was her ass. It looked round and firm. The faded jeans looked as if they’d been spray-painted on there.
“How’s that?” she asked, tilting her head a little to one side. Her smile told us she knew what we’d wanted to see and she was sure that we’d liked it.
“Very nice,” Stan nodded. “Emma filled you in?”
“Yep,” Susan nodded once. “She also told me that you guys were into some real kinky stuff.” Her smile didn’t fade.
“You up for that?” Stan asked.
“Sure,” she shrugged. “Why not?”
“You ever done any of that kinky stuff before?” Stan asked.
“A little,” she shrugged again and her smile faded a bit. “Why? For what you guys are willing to pay I think I can take a little rough stuff.”
“Just askin’,” Stan smiled. “So you know the deal?”
“Yeah, I know the deal,” Susan’s smile disappeared completely. She had a nice mouth with a full lower lip. Her upper lip was a bit thin. “So, do I get the gig or not?” She spread her legs a little and stood hipshot, as if challenging us.
“You get the gig,” Stan grinned. “Y’all go and get your stuff.”
“Oh!” her smile returned. “Thanks! I’ll be right back.”
She turned and walked back to Emma’s SUV. From the rear, her walk was a lot more interesting to watch. Stan gave Emma a thumbs-up signal and she smiled and nodded before rolling up the window.
“Let’s get in gear, guys,” Stan said, not taking his eyes off of California Girl’s ass. “We got some ground to cover before nightfall.”
Susan retrieved her gear from the back seat of the SUV while we were shrugging our packs on. We were loaded down with stuff, but all she’d brought was something that looked like a kid’s backpack. It was good to see that she’d taken Emma’s advice seriously. All she ought to have in her pack was a change of clothes and some essential toiletries. She slung her little pack over her shoulder, shut the door and started back towards us. Emma gunned the engine on her SUV before turning it around and roaring back the way she’d come, spraying gravel.
“Oh, hey,” Susan frowned as she saw us getting ready. “You guys have guns.”
“Well, yeah,” Stan nodded as he slung his pump shotgun. “We are gonna be doin’ some huntin’, after all. You got somethin’ against guns?”
“Uh, well, no,” she shook her head. “I’m just a little surprised is all.”
“It’s not a big deal,” Stan grinned. “C’mon, it’s a bit of a hike to the campsite. You might wanna put your hair up before we start. There’s too many things on the trail it might get caught on.”
“Campsite?” she frowned again. “I was told you had a hunting lodge.”
“We do, darlin’, we do,” Stan chuckled. “Don’t worry. It’s got lights and indoor plumbing and everything. We just like to camp out the first night. We’ll be at the lodge tomorrow mornin’. You ever been campin’?”
“Just when I was in summer camp,” she replied. “I didn’t bring any camping gear. Nobody told me to.”
“Don’t worry about it,” Stan grinned. “We brought everything, including stuff for you. You ready to go?”
We set out along the trail. Stan took point, with Jack following. Then came Susan, and I brought up the rear. I have to admit that I wasn’t paying much attention to anything besides her sweet round ass as she hiked along. Once or twice she must have felt my eyes on her, because she looked back over her shoulder at me. I always met her eyes and smiled when she did that. She always smiled back, but it was an uneasy smile. She had to know what I was thinking. Some times I watched her hair move as she walked. Per Stan’s advice, she’d tied it back in a ponytail. It looked soft and fine
and I wondered how it would feel in my hands. I’d already thought of a couple of uses for that long, long hair. It was a dark blonde for the most part, with lighter streaks in it here and there. Her eyebrows, as I recalled, were a shade or two darker, delicate arches above those pretty blue eyes.
Stan set an easy pace. We didn’t really have all that far to go, and we could have made the lodge in daylight if we pushed it, but over the years we’d worked out a system. As long as it kept working for us, there was no need to change it. Susan didn’t seem to have any trouble keeping up. Whether or not she spent much time in the outdoors, she kept herself in great shape.
We stopped for a rest at our usual place. It was a small clearing in the woods, just big enough for a small group. We’d cut down a couple of trees some time ago, stripped the trunks of branches, and arranged them so that there were places to sit. We shucked off our packs and stacked our guns and sat down on one of them. Susan sat down on a log on the opposite side of the clearing from us and laid her pack down on the ground next to her. Stan broke out the six-pack of beer and offered her one. She took it with a smile. She seemed a bit nervous now, which was what we’d expected. We were way out into the woods now, just her and three unshaven middle-aged men with guns. She looked at us over the beer can as she took a sip. I took a sip of mine. It was still cool, if no longer cold.
“So, what do you do?” Stan asked as he settled down on the log with us.
“I’m a student,” she answered.
“At the college?” Stan asked.
“Yes,” she nodded. “I’m studying filmography. I want to direct.”
“Direct?” Stan guffawed. “Hell, girl, you’re more than pretty enough to be on the other side of the camera!”
She dimpled prettily at the compliment. “Thanks,” she nodded. “I’ve been told that before, but there’s way too much competition on that side. Anyway, I don’t think I’m that good as an actress.”
“How old are you?” Stan asked her.
“Twenty,” she replied. “I’ll be twenty-one in a couple of weeks.”
“You look like you’re in pretty good shape,” he went on. “You do any sports?”
She shrugged. “I swim a lot,” she said. “I play some volleyball too.”
“You mind if we call you ‘Barbie’ instead of ‘Susan’?” Stan leaned forward with his elbows on his knees. “You somehow remind me of a Barbie doll, only prettier.”
She actually giggled. “No, I don’t mind,” she answered. “I’ve been told that a couple of times too.”
“I’ll bet you have,” Stan nodded and grinned. “Say, why did you decide to do this?”
She’d been relaxing a little, pleased to be the object of so much attention. That all evaporated now. She leaned back a little. She wasn’t smiling now.
“I need the money for tuition,” she said. “Look, I really don’t want to talk about it, okay?”
“Suit yourself,” Stan shrugged. “We weren’t plannin’ on doin’ a whole lot of talkin’ anyway.”
She actually blushed at that.
“Havin’ any second thoughts?” Stan asked her. “We can still call Emma and have her come pick you up.”
She didn’t answer right away. We all saw her lick her lips nervously with the pink tip of her tongue. “No,” she shook her head at last. “No. I’m really, really nervous about this, but I’ll stick it out.”
“Good,” Stan drained the last of his beer and crumpled the can in his hand. It was one of the signals we’d worked out. He thought she really would stick it out. I’d never known him to be wrong about that. “Let’s get back on the trail,” he said. “C’mon, Barbie,” he grinned at her.
***
It was getting late in the day by the time we got to the campsite. There was still plenty of daylight to make camp, but the woods were full of long shadows. The campsite was just another clearing, maybe fifteen feet across, with a ring of stones for the fire set in the middle. We had more logs to sit on along one side of the clearing. On the other side was an old picnic table we’d packed in years ago. It originally had two benches, but we’d only brought one of those along. Barbie put her pack down on the table, sat on the bench and watched us as we set up camp.
“I don’t see any tents,” she said.
“The weather’s good,” Stan grinned at her. “We won’t need tents for just one night. Tomorrow we’ll be at the lodge anyway.”
“Oh. Okay,” she shrugged. She didn’t offer to help. Even if she had, we would have turned down the offer. We had a system for this, along with everything else. In a very short time we had a fire going, food cooking and four sleeping bags laid out. The food wasn’t anything special, just some canned stew. It didn’t take long to cook. The sky overhead was dark by the time we were done eating. The whole time Barbie didn’t stir off of her bench.
“Well, Barbie,” Stan smiled at her as Jack gathered up the cheap aluminum plates and plastic forks and spoons and bagged them. “I’d say there’s no point in drawin’ things out. Why don’t you just strip down now and let us have a look at you?”
“Uh…what?” she gulped and her eyes went wide. She looked like she didn’t believe what she’d just heard.
“Gotta do it sooner or later, darlin’,” Stan’s grin sharpened. “Take off your clothes, hey?”
“Here?” she looked around nervously and then back at us.
“Here,” Stan nodded. “Now.” He added. Barbie just sat there with her hands fiddling in her lap. For the first time she looked a little scared.
Stan stood up. “Look, Barbie,” he said. “It either starts here or it ends here. You wanna go back? Call it quits?”
“No…no…” she shook her head after a moment. “You just…I’m kind of surprised is all. Give me a minute here?” She looked very nervous and confused now.
“Okay,” Stan smiled and nodded. “Let’s take it slower. How about you just take your boots and socks off to start?” He pointed at her feet.
“My boots?” she looked down at them, then back up at Stan. She looked puzzled.
“We start you off easy. Deal?”
She just looked at him for a moment, then shrugged. “Okay,” she said. She bent over and began unlacing her trail boots. Stan turned to us and winked. This was the part he liked best, ‘breaking in’ the new girl, getting her used to taking orders. He liked it even better when the girl was nervous and a little bit reluctant, like Barbie was.
We just watched in silence as she pulled her boots off and placed them neatly, side by side, on the ground under the bench. She peeled off her thick wool socks and stuffed them inside of the boots.
“There,” she said, looking up at Stan as if waiting for him to tell her what to do next.
“That wasn’t so bad, was it, darlin’?” he grinned down at her. “Stand up now, so’s we can get a better look at you.”
She didn’t hesitate quite so long this time. We’d long ago raked out the campsite and there were no rocks or twigs to poke at the soles of her bare feet.
“Lose the hat,” Stan suggested. She shrugged, doffed it and laid it carefully on the table.
“You cold?” Stan asked.
“What?” She was puzzled again. “No, not really?”
“Then how ‘bout you take off that vest, darlin’? You’re doin’ fine, don’t worry.”
She obeyed and laid the vest down on the table alongside her hat. She still seemed nervous, but also a little excited now, as if she was starting to get into it. She looked at Stan again, waiting. We could see her pink little toes digging into the loose sandy soil. I don’t think she was even aware that she was doing that.
Stan looked her up and down and shook his head. “Still can’t get a picture of how you’re built, Barbie,” he said. “Let’s get rid of that big old shirt, hey?”
She licked her lips once, then looked down and began unbuttoning the flannel shirt. She pulled the shirttails out of her jeans and slowly peeled the shirt off, looking straight at Stan wh
ile she did that. Her gaze was steady, even if her hands were shaking a little. The black t-shirt she had on under the shirt was way too big for her and bagged out around her. She tossed the flannel shirt onto the table on top of her vest, tossed her head just enough to make her long, long ponytail quiver and put her hands on her hips. It looked as if she was daring Stan now, pushing back to see just how far he would go.
“I guess that there t-shirt helps to keep you warm, Barbie, but get rid of it now,” he said with a smile.
She showed no hesitation at all this time. She pulled the big old t-shirt off over her head and tossed it in the general direction of the table, putting her hands back on her hips again. Jack and I sat up a little straighter. She had on some kind of sports bra under the t-shirt, and that wasn’t fitting her loosely at all.
“36-C,” Jack whispered to me. “Maybe even D. I sure do hope they’re real.”
“More like C,” I whispered back. “Shut up. I’m watching.”
Stan put his hands on his own hips and sauntered a little closer to her. She didn’t back up. She just stood her ground, staring back at him.
“Next,” Stan said very quietly, nodding at the sports bra. She finally hesitated again, but only for a moment. Her arms crossed in front of her and her hands gripped the elastic band in the bottom of the sports bra. She pulled it off over her head with one quick movement, shaking her head to clear it from her long ponytail. The movement made her breasts jiggle nicely, telling us that they were indeed real. They looked full and round and taut in the firelight. Her nipples were a dark tan, tinged with pink. They pointed slightly outwards and a little upwards. She let the sports bra drop to the ground and put her hands on her hips again. Her belly was more taut than flat, with a hint of muscles showing through from under her flesh. Stan stared at her breasts until she acted as if she couldn’t bear his gaze any more and was going to cover them with her hands and then he looked back up into her eyes. She still looked defiant, but more than a little nervous now. It seemed like it took an effort for her not to cover herself. She really looked good in the firelight. She would have looked good in the dark.