By the time Oscar and I clambered up into our secret place, piled with outdoor pillows and mats that we had already ferreted away to make it cozier, he had stripped out of his shirt. He knelt by the stream and quickly washed his head and neck.
“Bug spray,” he laughed, shaking his hair. “It’s damn nasty to taste!”
The dappled light under the leaves threw sunbeams on our skin, almost marking the place for us to kiss, to stroke, to worship each other’s bodies.
We spread the pillows out, and he laid down beside me. Despite the heat of the day, I welcomed the pressure and heat of his body against mine. He took his time unbuttoning every last button of my summer blouse, watching as it finally released from my chest. He gasped in pleasure at the new sight of my breasts bulging in their pink lacy cups. The feeling of his hard shaft digging and rubbing against my thigh forced out a breathy moan from my lungs, and he dove to catch it, to taste it, with his lips.
“You are so fucking hot,” he whispered hoarsely, a devilish grin on his face. He ran a hand down my thigh, and it was almost shocking to see the juxtaposition of his light skin against my darker, gleaming skin. “I dreamed of seeing you like this.”
I struggled to catch my breath, my chest heaving, as he slid his hands over my breasts, catching the lacy bra and pulling it down.
“Not a dream anymore,” I gasped. He moved on top of me and greedily took my breast in his mouth, flicking his tongue over my hard nipple, then moving his head and tracing a line of delicious wetness to the next waiting nipple. I writhed underneath him, my legs instinctively spreading for him.
“I’ve been thinking,” I mumbled through panting gasps of pleasure. “I want you, Oscar. I want everything!”
“Everything?” He grinned wickedly and then whispered in my ear. “The whole thing? Are you ready for this step?”
“Mm-hmm.” I slid my hand down over his pants and grabbed his dick.
“You have no idea. I’ve been waiting so long to fuck you silly!”
My hands scrambled at the waist of his pants, desperate to remove the last layers of fabric between our wiggling, sweating bodies. He rolled me over slightly, to reach behind and undo my bra, which he then wrestled off my body and tossed in the air.
The bra landed on a branch and fluttered, like a little flag of defeat.
His mouth moved back to my breast, his hand fondling the other, gently rolling my nipple between his calloused fingers. Every new kiss made the fire in my groin explode with desperation, a forest fire spiraling out of control. His lips trailed wet kisses down my belly, and I groaned, desperate as his hands made quick work of my jeans, stripping them off my shaking legs with a deftness that I had to admire.
I watched in fascination as he peeled off his camo pants. My clit twitched as I admired the hard line of his dick in his underwear, thick and long enough to make my mouth water. He slid out of his underwear, maneuvering the waistband over his cock until it sprang out, upright and eager. I whined in pleasure at the sight, grateful once again for the waterfall that masked our sounds.
He knelt in between my legs again, and smiled, running a finger gently up and down the spreading wetness of my panties. “Look at you,” he said, almost growling in appreciation of the sight. “Look how wet you are.”
He took his time, stripping me of my panties, and by the time he’d hooked them over my feet, I was trembling. His hands stroked my thighs as he moved beside me, still kneeling, trailing kisses from my collarbones to the very top of my hips. His fingers slid up, up, up towards my aching clit. I didn’t know what he was going to do, and I was still a little nervous.
I was a slippery mess already, but the sensation of his fingers—first trailing and tracing the lips of my slit, and then slipping inside with ease—made me writhe in pleasure. He adjusted the angle, breathing hard as he watched me shiver and moan under his touch. His thumb traced light, delicate circles around my clit while two fingers curled forward in that “come-hither” motion that drove me wild. He set the pace, kissing my breasts and sucking my hardened nipples as his fingers worked some sort of magic, stoking the raging fire all the more, building up such an intense heat that my vision swam.
His fingers made slick, suckling sounds as they slipped in and out, curling, stroking, fondling. My back arched, and I was vaguely aware of my hands clenched into fists, yanking at the ends of the cushion. My lungs gasped for air, sucking and panting as my stomach clenched tight, working towards the edge of a brilliant eruption.
I could feel Oscar’s body poised beside me. I could feel the ragged puffs of his breath against my hot, sweating skin. My gaze shifted down from his face to his eager cock, erect and dripping. That’s when my insides clamped down hard and pulsed with the overwhelming, crashing wave of orgasm. I shuddered and seized, my head tilting back and my spine arching, as I cried out in pleasure.
Still, his fingers worked, riding me through the tumble after the sweet, spasming moment of release.
“Oh my god!” I cried out. “Please fuck me now!”
He took out his fingers and watched me squeal in shock as he licked them slowly off. His body moved on top of me. He grabbed my knees and commanded my shy legs wide open. He lowered his taut body onto mine. I felt his hard dick poke near my wet slit. With one hand wrapped around his cock, he stroked my wet lips.
“So fuckin’ wet,” he moaned, clenching his teeth.
Ever so slowly, he entered me, his thick cock spreading me out. He groaned loudly as he forced his cock forward, sliding right up to his balls inside my aching, welcoming wetness.
“You’re so fuckin’ tight, Sara,” he gasped in sheer pleasure, his face red.
Our hips locked together, and for one sweet, breathtaking moment, he paused and looked down triumphantly into my eyes.
“I’m going to so fuckin’ give it to you, Doc.” He growled.
He began to pump his hips forward, slamming into me with desperate intensity. The feel of his thick cock thrusting relentlessly inside me built up a rolling heat in the very pit of my belly. My arms, loosened from the pleasure, slipped down his muscular back, my fingers digging in as his pace increased. His breath was hot against my neck, where he’d buried his face, and my hands slipped further down to dig into his ass, to pull him forward as deep as he could go.
He grunted and cursed, his body slick with sweat. He grabbed the back of my thighs and pushed them forward towards my chest and held them down, pounding into me at a more intense angle. The air was full of the sounds of wet flesh smacking together, gasping breaths, and animalistic grunts. My toes curled with delight, my nipples hard, my body full of sheer pleasure.
His giant dick was hitting all the right places, and my insides began to pulse and grip his cock. I knew he was getting close when he started losing his rhythm, and the pitch of his curses got way higher. Letting my thighs go, he leaned over me, one thick arm planted beside my shoulder, his fingers tangling in my hair, the other big hand grabbed my ass. He ferociously thrust forward and shivered and trembled, his grip tightened on my ass, trying to bring me as close as possible to him. I could feel his resolve to feel as much deep, intense pleasure before he came.
My legs locked around Oscar’s back until I felt his entire body seize, except for his pulsing dick exploding inside me. His hips kept jerking forward as he came in huge bursts of hot, thick cum. I tightened around the throbbing of his orgasm. His eyes squeezed shut, and his hips rolled forward again and again as if he was trying to push his seed as deeply as he could in my belly. His entire body jolted and twitched with the force of his orgasm, and after a few moments of ragged, panting moans, he let out a final, body-deep shudder and collapsed.
“You are wild,” I whispered, grinning, holding his sweaty face.
“And you’ve captured this wild man,” he breathed heavily in my ear. “Thank you.”
We lay together, panting, the space between our bodies hot and still full of that jumping electrical current, our kisses slow and light. I felt like
a loosely-connected mass of nerves built solely for pure pleasure. No thought remained in my mind, but those of Oscar, of his body, pressed against mine. He slid out of me with a moan.
I had no idea what time it was, had no thought of what chores I needed to do. All I wanted, all I cared about, was the man who collapsed next to me, his tattooed chest still heaving.
Our hands found each other, and our fingers intertwined so tightly that I knew we would lose feeling in them soon enough. But I didn’t care—Oscar Mathis was by my side. That was all that mattered.
The sun was still bright and intense when it was getting close to dinner time. We’d clambered back down to the settlement like guilty teenagers. People knew we were together, but I didn’t want to get caught face flushed and with tangled hair!
The light slowly turned to dazzling gold, and the cicadas buzzed in the forest around us. Now that the heat had died back somewhat, there was a movement from the various buildings as people started moving towards the communal kitchen for dinner. Smoke rose from the kitchen’s chimney, and whatever Maria was preparing smelled absolutely divine. Oscar and I settled next to each other against the trunk of a large, proud oak waiting for the dinner bell. The sweat on our bodies had long cooled, and I was content to simply relax next to him. We both had the afternoon and evening free today—a wonderful break from the usual days filled with work.
We didn’t speak for a while, quietly basking in each other’s presence, and then Oscar softly spoke to me. “You’re going to have your very own clinic, Sara.” He shifted and pressed his lips to the top of my head. “I’m so proud of you. What all do you have to do to get it ready for business?”
I smiled happily up at the bright blue sky. What a day! “Oh, everything. I have a list a mile long in my head, but I can get started with some basic procedures. I’ve been thinking for a while about how we can make do with what we have and what we can find. I came with a trunk full of my old clinic’s stuff, but there are so many things I still need. I want to have it all set up as soon as possible next to Logan’s medical clinic. Pulling teeth in people’s houses isn’t ideal!” I brushed a strand of hair out of my eyes. “It’ll take a long time to find some of the supplies, though, I think,” I answered honestly.
He stroked some circular pattern on my thigh as he considered my words, and the touches made me shiver. “What do you need to find first?” he prompted, looking curious.
I bit my lip, thinking.
“I know it’ll be impossible to find, and it’s unrealistic to want it, but I’d—do you really want my wish list?” I asked, somewhat surprised. He nodded, his gaze intense, and so I shrugged, curled closer to him, and answered, “Well, let’s see. Ideally, I’d like a dental chair, portable X-ray machine, any and all examination tools I can find like syringes and anesthetic. However, I could get by without all of those. It wouldn’t make for a practical or comfortable experience, but dentists made do without all the fancy equipment for a long time. What we really, really need is an autoclave.”
He looked confused, and I lifted his hand and kissed the back of it. “A machine that can sterilize equipment. Logan and I’ve been talking, and I think we need to find one. Somewhere. We’ve been sterilizing instruments using boiling water, but it’s cumbersome.”
I felt him shift and nod. “What does it look like?”
“It looks a little like one of those old-style CD players, or like a big printer. It has a drawer or two that slides out where you can put your tools in for sterilization. We could hook one up to our generators.”
He grunted, and I wondered what he was visualizing. After a moment of daydreaming of our very own autoclave, I sighed, resigned to the truth of the matter. “But I don’t know if they were all taken with the looting of the clinics. People probably took them without even knowing what they were. We can make do with the system we’ve been using in the meantime.”
“It would be nice, though?” he asked.
I nodded and nestled in ever closer by his side. “It would be really, really nice.”
Oscar grunted for an answer again, his thumb tracing slow lines on my hand. Before I could ask what he was thinking about, the dinner bell rang out, loud and clear, across the busy compound. People began to make their way towards the kitchen, walking from their construction sites and workplaces, kids running out of their homes for the prospect of food. Next to the kitchen, Tillie’s project, the nearly-completed greenhouse, gleamed like a jewel in the light of the sun.
Oscar shifted and stretched, cracking his neck and knuckles before standing and offering his hand to me. “Come on, Sara. Whatever Maria’s been prepping smells almost too good to be true.”
I took his hand, grinning. “It’s Maria’s cooking, it’s always too good to be true.” When he pulled me up, I used the momentum to kiss him, softly, on the lips. “I’m so glad you’re back safe, Oscar,” I whispered.
His smile was gentle, fond, and made my heart seize with love. “I’ll always come back to you, Sara. Always.”
°°°°°
I woke up to a quiet house. Usually, Oscar would stop by bright and early in the morning when he wasn’t on one of his scouting or hunting trips. But he wasn’t here this morning. Not yet, at least.
I lay there in peaceful silence for a few moments, wondering where’d he’d gone so early in the morning. It was a cloudy day, cold after the warmth of the summer night, and I gratefully snuggled in the blankets. I thought maybe he’d bring up moving in together soon. It was a pleasant thought. When I finally stretched and rose, it took me a few moments to notice that his hunting pack was gone. He always kept it at my place since his place was too small, carefully stocked with things like extra rope, batteries for his flashlight, and water purification tabs for his longer hunts.
My heart thudded with sudden, aching fear. Had something happened in the night? We hadn’t seen many raids since the revolution began, the ones where bandit groups who thought we would be easy pickings for food and hadn’t anticipated our protective security forces. Oscar had been at the front of those lines, every time, scaring away people who wanted to do us harm. My heart ached for him, and I scrambled to get dressed as fast as I could.
Maria would know what was happening, though. She always seemed to know everything about everyone. I hurried towards the kitchen. Smoke was rising from the chimney, and the air smelled like bacon and eggs, which was a good sign that nothing serious had happened overnight.
When I opened the door, Logan was there. He and Maria quickly pulled away from each other, flushing a little. Maria saw it was me, however, and her expression changed at once. “Sara! I was just about to go looking for you—”
“Where’s Oscar? Did something happen? Was it a raid?”
Logan and Maria looked at each other, and fear curdled my stomach at their expressions. “What happened?” I begged them, moving forward into the dining hall. “Please, did something happen?”
Maria, one hand on her pregnant belly, gestured towards one of the long benches. Her energy, it seemed, was boundless. A professional chef before the revolution, she made it her business to make sure everyone was fed. In fact, she was the one that first suggested that all of the compound eat at least one meal together. “Sit,” she commanded, and I did so without a thought, fearing I was about to hear the worst news of my life. Her thick, dark brows studied me carefully, and I could sense her usual Italian brusqueness about to come out.
I wasn’t entirely wrong.
“He left about an hour ago, Sara. Said he was going to Chicago.”
Chicago! I leaped to my feet, staring at them in horror. My heart pounded in my ears as I struggled to take in Maria’s words. “To Chicago—? Why—? When—? Why would he—?”
Logan took hold of my arms as my breaths started to come fast and light, too light, and he gently lowered me back down into the chair. “He left early this morning,” he repeated, pushing a cup of water towards me with a look that brooked no arguments. “He said he needed to go get
something, something important. He acted like he didn’t hear me when I asked what he would be looking for.”
“He’ll be fine, Sara,” Maria murmured in that same gentle, placating voice. “Oscar’s strong and clever. He’ll be fine.”
I wanted to sob. “He went by himself?” When they nodded, I swallowed with difficulty and went on, willing my voice not to betray my fear, “Did he say when he might come back?”
They exchanged a look, and then Logan nodded. “He’s on his bike, so the trip itself won’t take long. But—”
“He said he’ll be back in two days at the very latest,” Maria finished.
Two days! My head reeled, and I felt dizzy. He’d said himself that the fighting around Chicago was finally dying down, but why risk it? What did he have to get that absolutely couldn’t have waited?
They were still staring at me, with matching worried expressions. Maria was an Italian beauty, with clear, smooth olive skin and a powerful Roman nose, and I wanted her to comfort me and tell me it’d be all okay. But she had work to do, and so did I, helping Tillie with the greenhouse this morning, and starting to set up shop beside Logan this afternoon. I bit my lip and tried to calm my nerves.
Just suck it up and move forward with your day, I told myself. There wasn’t anything I could do. How had he slipped away without my noticing?
The day crawled by at an excruciating pace. I was jumpy and nervous, to the point where Tillie and my father had to reassign me to a job that didn’t involve lifting panes of glass into place: shoveling manure. So, I mentally stewed as I helped the team shovel manure into wheelbarrows and cart it to the raised beds inside the completed areas of the greenhouse. By lunch, everyone knew that Oscar had slipped away during the night on a mission that he’d refused to speak to anyone about. Worry gnawed at my heart, and I spent hours half-listening to the people around me, one ear trained for the slightest sound of his motorbike at the gates.
The Hunter Page 2