by E Cleveland
I slump back in my chair and enjoy being in my old place again. I didn’t realize how much I missed it. I may not have spent much time sprucing it up, but it was still home.
“Hey.”
I look up and Abbie is standing before me, I can’t help the way my jaw is flapping open. She’s startlingly sexy. Standing like a vision in a pastel pink nightie, her tits are spilling up over the lace and her rosebud nipples are barely contained inside.
I stare at the way the lace hugs her curves, studying the fabric design like it’s the key to my life’s happiness.
Hell, it might just be.
“What are you doing here?” My voice feels far away, like it isn’t coming from inside me.
She smiles that sweet, shy smile that makes me protect her from the world and teach her, as her personal professor, just how dirty a man can be. God damn! Her bright green eyes lock me in place, they make me forget she doesn’t belong there. That something about this is off.
“I think I figured out what I can do for you. You know,” her tongue swipes over her lips and I’m entranced, “something that I can do to make you feel good.” Her voice is husky. It doesn’t quite sound like her, but I don’t have the attention span to care. All I can see is the flicker in her eyes as she slowly slinks over to me and slides to her knees in front of me.
Suddenly, my pants are open and I’m watching her wrap her small hand around my thick cock. My muscles clench as I watch her lips slide down over my shaft, taking the entire thing into her mouth.
That’s not how an inexperienced girl gives a blowjob. I don’t care. I can’t think of anything I could possibly care about less in this moment. I can feel the wet heat of her mouth surrounding me. She slurps as she takes every inch of me deep inside, past her lips. Those lips. Has anyone ever had a more perfect pair? I watch as her head bobs. Her hair cascades around her face and she takes me deep in her mouth.
“I’m gonna cum,” I warn her, and she disappears.
What the fuck?
I twist around in my seat, searching for her. Fuck I’ll flip this chair right over if it means getting her back here to finish the job. Where did she go?
My balls ache and my gut twists up painfully as I call out her name. I try, but my voice won’t work.
I sit up, breathing hard and sweating. Abbie is lying next to me. Looking every bit as innocent as she did yesterday.
Part of me wants to wake her up with my rigid cock. To kiss her, grind against her, free my thick member from my pants and rub the tip against her clit until I can get her to relax enough to fuck her. To own that pussy. The one she’s never given to anyone. The one that will be mine.
Instead, I slide out of bed and go outside. I stop by a large tree on the perimeter of my camp and quickly unfasten my pants and pull out my cock. Spitting in my hand, I slide my cupped palm over my shaft and close my eyes, remembering her on her knees in my dream.
It felt so real. Her lips puckered around my thickness. Her wet warmth sucking at my cock. I pump my hand over my dick and get lost in the feeling. In a memory that doesn’t really belong to me, but that still feels real. My cum erupts in spurts that I watch fly in an arc over the ground, like a white rainbow, careful not to get any on me.
Fuck. That was intense.
Even in my teen years, I’ve never been one for wet dreams. But when I have gotten worked up over some chick, it’s always taken me longer than the ten seconds it just took to jerk myself to completion.
Now that the urgency to cum has been quelled and I’m thinking straight, I don’t think I’ve ever dreamt of a chick I’ve been with.
I tuck myself to the right and zip back up, mulling it over.
I’ve dated my fair share of girls. I even played house with a lady for about four months. Until I went away on a two-week exercise for the military and came home early to her banging some random guy in my bed. That was the end of that. However, before she decided to slut it up under my roof, on my mattress, using my condoms, I still never did dream of her.
Abbie is the first girl who has infiltrated my sleep that way.
I’m not sure why. I mean, obviously she’s beautiful, but I’ve been with beautiful before. It’s more than that. She’s different. I think even my subconscious knows that.
I look inside the cabin and see that she’s still asleep. There’s no good that will come of me lying back down beside her. She’s got me in too much of a frenzy.
I pluck my fishing rod from the side of the building and start to make my way down to the river. I might as well go do something useful if I’m up anyway. Besides, fishing always gives me time to think, and with Abbie on my mind, I’ve got a lot to ponder.
21
Abbie
The sound of the grill sizzling and the smell of something delicious wafting under my nose wakes me. I stretch in bed, throwing my arms wide over my head and try to figure out what he’s cooking. I can’t place the aroma, my tummy wants it to be a big plate of scrambled eggs and bacon, but my brain knows better.
Is it weird that I want to spring out of bed and run to him? That I already miss looking at his chiseled, scruffy jaw and his intense stare, even though I just woke?
I feel like a lovesick puppy dog. Probably typical of how a girl acts toward the first guy that’s ever made her cum. Yet, the thought doesn’t settle with me. In my gut, I know this feeling runs deeper than that. It isn’t about sex. It isn’t about him saving me, or even for him caring for me. All those things are the building blocks of the great man he is. They’re all just individual parts that attract me to the greater whole.
I manage to climb out of bed without ever making any noise, so that he doesn’t turn around. Progress! Although my ankle is still sore, it’s not nearly as brutal a pain as it was yesterday. For a moment, I even consider trying to walk out on it, but think better of pushing myself too far, too fast and hop over to the chair.
“Bout time you got up,” he looks up from the fillet of fish he’s frying. “You’d think something must have worn you out for you to sleep in so late,” he teases me and gives me a wink.
I can’t help the heat that billows out over my cheeks. It seems stupid to get embarrassed when less than twenty-four hours ago he was kissing my entire naked body. I guess I’m still not used to being so exposed. So vulnerable.
But I’m willing to get used to it.
“Smells so good,” I nod at the food and sit near him. “I thought you had oatmeal for breakfast though? I didn’t sleep in that late did I? Is it already lunch?” I run my hands through my hair like a makeshift brush and tilt my head.
“Nope, you didn’t miss breaky,” he grabs a towel and pulls the hot pan from the woodstove. “This is what’s on the menu. I figure since I’m going to need to move deeper in the forest and I’ll have to get used to fending for myself for all my meals. As far as I know, there’s no elves named Snap, Crackle and Pop who are going to deliver me boxes of Rice Krispies out there, so fish for breakfast is probably something I should get used to.” He chuckles and I laugh.
“Fair enough,” I take a plate of still sizzling fish that he’s handing out to me and a fork. I can’t wait to tell him about my ankle, how it’s already feeling so much better, but my growling stomach puts my priorities in order and I take a mouthful.
“Wow! This is so good,” I tell him around a cheek full of food.” Chomping it quickly, I take another bite.
“Everything tastes better out here, I find. I don’t know if it’s just being outside so much, or that I don’t have stuff to snack on all day, but it seems like my taste buds have come alive since I’ve started living like this,” he swirls his fork around the room.
I breathe in the fresh June air. Even from inside, I can smell the faint aroma of flowers and new growth in the woods. It’s like having a luxury rustic resort all to myself. Complete with a waterfall for a shower and a rugged, muscular guide to keep me safe.
I let myself imagine what his body must look like naked. How his broad
chest looks without a shirt clinging to him. I bite my lip involuntarily and feel my heart speed up as my gaze travels further down, trying to peel his pants off in my mind.
“How long until you move out of here?” I focus my attention back on his face and try to keep it there.
Cole finishes swallowing the last bite of his fish and rests his plate on his knee, “Well, as soon as your ankle is good enough to make the trek, I’ll get you back into town and then I’ll be heading straight out. It’s only a matter of time until your boss or more people like him come to find me. I don’t want to be waiting here like a sitting duck, you know?” He wipes the glistening butter from his lips with the back of his hand and stands up to get more fish from the pan.
The food he made that had just tasted so vibrant turns to sawdust on my tongue. I don’t even want to finish the last couple of bites. The idea of him taking me back to Whitehorse and leaving my life forever makes my heart twist up in my chest like it’s clenched inside a tight fist.
I look down at my ankle and decide to keep my news about it healing to myself.
I know he’s right about being in danger here, but I’m in no rush to walk out of Cole’s life. This is the first time I’ve felt truly alive in my twenty-two years. I know it’s greedy, but I can’t bring myself to march out of here and never look back. I’m a girl who always does the right thing, but God help me, I just can’t this time.
22
Cole
I raise my fork to dig into my second helping of the Alaskan grayling I caught but stop mid-air when I see Abbie’s face. She always looks fair, but right now, her skin is bleached pale and she’s pushed her food away from her.
“You alright?” I hope she’s not getting sick. Abbie doesn’t exactly strike me as a great outdoorsy kind of girl. I don’t know if roughing it like this is taking a toll on her health. Truth be told, I also don’t need any more delays in getting her out of here. I feel terrible for even thinking it, I mean, it’s not like I want her to leave. But the longer she camps out here the more chance her old boss will come looking for her. Or worse. The police will.
“What?” Her glossy eyes flicker back into focus and she looks over at me like she just remembered I’m here. “Oh, yeah, I’m fine,” she presses her lips into a thin slit.
Not the most convincing face, but I know it’s best to let things go. There have been many times that my mind has drifted back to my sister and my thoughts have dragged me unwillingly into another world. Sometimes it’s good to let things drop.
Abbie places her plate on the table and looks around like she’s searching the room for hidden treasure. I scoop some more fish into my mouth and watch as she rubs her hands up and down her thighs, it’s like I can see the wheels turning in her head.
“So, what do you do around here every day? I mean, don’t you get bored just sitting out here alone?” She sits up straight and tosses her hair over her shoulder, twisting her hands over it like she’s trying to pull it up into a ponytail only to let it drop back down around her face again.
“You’d be surprised actually, survival is pretty much a full-time job. I don’t think I’ve spent a single day out here bored, to be honest,” I admit, finishing the last bite of my meal.
I lean back and look around my place. I admit that it’s not much to look at, but I’m proud of what I’ve put together. She obviously has no concept of how much work it took to build this place or how much I do just to stay alive.
“Most days, just keeping wood chopped for fires, fishing, cooking, cleaning, working on the cabin and keeping myself clean takes up the entire day. Let me tell ya, keeping me clean is probably the biggest one. I’m always getting covered in dirt or tree sap or something. It’s amazing I haven’t turned into that dirty kid from the Charlie Brown comics, remember him? Pigpen I think his name was. He always had a dust cloud surrounding him,” I smile.
Abbie laughs and I can see her relax a little. Whatever was just eating at her seems to have passed. I love making her smile, making her laugh. It’s almost as amazing as making her cum.
Making her cum is the clear front-runner, but then in a distant second is making her laugh.
“So, what’s on the agenda today? You’ve already gone fishing. Is it wood chopping day? Do you have a schedule like that?” She leans in toward me, and rests her elbows on her knees, cradling her face in her hands. The way the sun is falling on her looks like a spotlight in a play. Like she’s the star of the show.
“Today is Wednesday,” I answer her matter-of-factly.
“Okay…” she raises an eyebrow in a silent question.
“Wednesday is my day off. Ever since I finished this place, when the weather cooperates I try to give myself a day of rest every week.”
“Oh, okay then. What do you do? Just chill here?” I can see the boredom creeping in across her face. She’s trying to hide her disappointment, but the fine lines that erupt in a spider web across the bridge of her nose and the way her pink lips are tugging down in the corners is making it impossible.
“No, I’ll show you after we eat. Usually I have some drinks and either write or draw for a while.” I stand up and pick up her plate, placing it on top of mine. “Are you done with this?”
“Yeah, I’m good,” she casts her eyes downward.
“I guess you’re not a fan of my cooking?” I tease her.
“No, it’s not that. I’m just not used to eating fish for breakfast I guess.” She scuffs her boot across the floorboards and avoids my eyes.
“Suit yourself,” I shrug and pop the last of her fish into my mouth. I’m not about to waste a perfectly good catch.
“So, are you an artist then?” Abbie looks up at me.
“I wouldn’t say that, but I find it relaxing,” I admit. “I used to try to whittle on my days off, but it turns out that wasn’t a great combination with the booze,” I snort and tug my shirt sleeve up, revealing a scar I gave myself in a drunken attempt to carve wood.
“Ouch! Yeah, that just sounds like a terrible idea,” she shakes her head.
“Yeah, well, I never claimed to be a genius,” I laugh and tug my shirt back down. “Anyway, just let me get this stuff taken care of and we’ll get going,” I nod to the dirty dishes.
“I can do them,” her voice is chipper, like she’s volunteering to taste test a new kind of candy bar, not wash dirty plates.
“Great,” I agree. “You get the dishes and I’ll get everything we need for the day together, sound good?”
“Mmhmm,” she stands up and then gives me a quick, wide-eyed look before wincing and lifting her foot.
“You okay?” I close the distance between us and grab her arm for support.
“Yeah, I’m fine. I’ll be fine,” she won’t meet my eyes. I hope she’s not trying to hide how much pain she’s dealing with.
I try to assess what she’s holding back, but decide to let it go. It’s Wednesday and my grassy knoll and lazy day are calling to me.
23
Abbie
“We’re here,” Cole smiles broadly at the foot of the hill his cabin is built into.
“What? I don’t get it,” I look around.
“You’ll see,” he smirks and grabs my hand, tugging me up the hill with him. We scramble to the top of the fifteen foot climb and my jaw drops open.
“Pretty cool, huh?” Cole looks pretty proud of himself. His blue eyes sparkling as he spreads a blanket out over the flattened top sheltering his cabin.
I soak in the incredible view feeling like I just climbed Everest and am looking down from the top of the world.
“It’s amazing,” I whisper. “What’s that for?” I point to a small, ankle high barrier made from wood and strung across the edge overlapping his house, like a tiny fence for gnomes.
“Ahhh, well since I have drinks up here, I made this. It’s kinda like when you were a kid and had a rail across the top bunk bed, you know? I didn’t want to fall asleep up here and wake up with a broken leg when I rolled off
the side. It’s quite a drop to the front door.”
“And an even further one down there,” I nod at the cliff only twenty feet from his cabin entrance.
“Yeah, if I ever get drunk enough that I fall off that, I won’t need to worry about my liver. I’ll be dead,” he laughs.
This grassy clearing on his roof is so tranquil. It’s easy to see why Cole likes to spend his downtime here.
I watch him as he pulls a long swig of amber alcohol into his mouth, making it disappear from the bottle into his belly while I sit on the blanket beside him. I’ve never been much of a drinker, most of my Friday nights on campus were spent in the library studying, not doing shots. My scholarship meant too much to me to squander it being a party girl.
At least that’s what I told myself.
The truth is, I wouldn’t know how to handle myself at a party. I’ve always been so nervous around guys, and a girl with an anxious snort and pit stains is not what I think most dudes are into. I think I mostly saved myself from sitting in corners with houseplants and watching from the sidelines. If college kids have houseplants. Probably not. The point is, I spent too much of my life observing everyone else live their lives. I’ve always wistfully watched them cut loose and have fun, while I enviously wished I had the guts to do the same.
Enough is enough.
“Can I have some of that?” I nod toward his bottle of whiskey nestled beside his leg. Cole looks down like he’s not sure if there’s something else I could be talking about instead of the booze. He looks from side to side before pointing down at the alcohol and twisting his face up.