“Where are we going?” I ask, struggling to keep up.
“I want to show you something.”
“There’s more?”
Her grin turns wicked. “Trust me, the best part.”
* * *
The woodland trail soon dwindles, and the forest comes to engulf us. Struggling through a tight assemblage of woody stems and flowering bushes, she is determined, thrusting forward in long strides as we penetrate the thicket, myself having a hard time, her pace is so furious. Without a doubt, she’s excited by what’s coming.
The dense forest ends at a steep headland overlooking a fertile valley. Below, a flourishing plant kingdom dominates the landscape, lying peacefully beneath the soft pink sky, and extending past the horizon.
She releases me and steps forward, arms outstretched.
“The most beautiful garden on any world. Paradise.”
At her side, I join in her delight, taking in the magnificent sight—an endless stretch of wild agriculture. Open ferns yellow and green, sprawling ivy and squat bushes flat on top, almost like giant toadstools, between patches of lavender and sage, dwarfed by random plots of massive oaks standing guard over this lively example of nature at its best. Wild flowers fill the gaps, yielding soft petals in a rainbow of colors, and gentle waterways wind through grassy plains that blanket the valley floor. Her excitement is understandable. This is definitely worth seeing, indeed the best part.
She takes my hand and pulls me down the embankment. Struggling to keep up, I’m hauled farther down the hillside, slicing through a sea of tall grass. Descending the steep incline, I must keep barreling forward, for if I do not, I may fall flat on my face.
Near the bottom, we stumble and roll the remaining distance, our bodies tangling as her pigtails slap like whips. We land in a soft meadow and she rolls atop my chest. Looking down on me, I expect that she might say something, but she does not, she only smiles. Then she rises, reaches out a hand to pull me up, and runs off into the garden like a child at play.
Not so hurried, I stroll through the maze of plant life, in awe of the scenery as thriving vegetation passes underfoot, spread out beneath the sagging branches of trees heavy with fruit. Flowering vines climb anything that stands upright, reaching for the pink sky. If not for the tender blossoms flaunting a palette of divine hues, I might mistake the coiling stems for slithering snakes. A babbling brook catches my ear, and a gentle wisp of warm air rustles the trees, their leaves a vibrant, glossy green.
Struggling to spot her, I spy between the many berry bushes, flowering shrubs, and apple trees. I come upon a grassy clearing and approach the center, turning slowly as I search for her, surely hiding somewhere in the garden. Coming around full circle, I’m surprised to find her right behind me, holding a shiny red apple.
“Have a bite,” she says. “It’s yummy.” She raises the fruit to my lips.
I step back. “We’re not supposed to eat this stuff, are we?”
“Don’t worry about it, everybody else does.”
She slides the fruit across my lips in a slow, sultry motion. The polished red orb does look tasty, but this isn’t right. Someone will be unhappy. Another step back, I nearly stumble over a log hidden in the grass. She reaches out and clutches me tight, keeping me upright, her gaze locked on mine, her eyes hungry. She brings the apple back to my lips.
Though reluctant, I let her feed me. A crisp snap results and a juicy portion lands in my mouth. As I masticate the sinfully delicious meat, she withdraws the meal and indulges in it herself. We stare at one another, chewing, then she tosses the apple over her shoulder.
“Hey, I wanted another bite.”
While licking at the sweet, sticky remains, she slowly loosens her pigtails, one after the other, releasing her flowing mane to fall across her shoulders. Next she reaches to my shoulder, caressing, then a quick shove, she sends me to the grass flat on my back. She straddles my waist and leans forward, her loose locks tickling my cheeks.
Her dreamy gaze is a new experience. Gorgeous as always, but somehow different, more sensual, inviting me to fulfill her desires. Her hands caress my chest, slipping beneath the vest, finding my own nipples, though small, becoming aroused nonetheless. Her nimble fingers venture lower, sliding under my shirt and coaxing the garment off as I raise each arm to allow the undressing.
She sits up and peels off her shirt, then flings it away. My arousal increases tenfold as she grinds atop me, her jeans to mine, while I survey the contours of her sweet, petite breasts. Her arousal is evident, her gaze dreamy, erotic, and her tight nipples erect.
A twist to each side, she reaches back to slip out of her boots, then leans forward, looking down on me with not so much a smile, rather intent to devour. Her eyes might eat me if they had teeth. She scoots back to straddle my knees, and fiddles with the buttons of my jeans. This proximity to what holds pleasure unleashes a flood of erotic sensations rocketing to every extremity, leading me to shudder and whisper a moan. As I lie here helpless, under her control, our stares remain locked, each tracking the other.
On her knees, she crawls backward to my boots and unwinds the laces, then slips each off and takes hold of my jeans, tugging gently, easing the soft denim along my legs. She rises, staring down on me while working the buttons of her own jeans, one by one. Rocking her hips, she inches the snug pants down her thighs, until they crumple at her feet and she steps out of them, the only remaining garment a patch of silky fabric held in place by thin strands riding low on her hips. She sways gently, easing the panties down, past her thighs, and dropping to her ankles.
She kneels beside me and taunts with unhurried movement, tugging at my briefs. My penis springs free, now fully erect. She smiles, and slowly, completes the removal of all that remains, then eases one leg over to straddle my quivering body, her eyes locked on mine. She reaches down and soft fingertips discover the root of my desire. A surge of erotic sensation erupts as her grasp tightens and she begins a slow, rhythmic stroke. With our union tantalizingly near, she guides the tip of my manhood along her succulent passage, moist with anticipation. I want to move, I want to thrust into her, but her eyes command that I remain perfectly still.
One sudden plunge, she slams down hard, hair flung back and gasping delight. Letting the initial entrance simmer, she gazes down on me from dreamy eyes framed by dark strands crossing her face. A soft bite of her lip, eyes fluttering as she bears down, she shifts and wiggles, savoring the full extent of me inside her.
She eases upward—I fear too much—but she is in complete control, clinging to my desire by the smallest measure. A minor grin as she hesitates, teasing, then she slides down easy, slow, eyes drifting closed, moaning the entire distance.
Settled atop my groin, she grinds into me, hips squirming. She rises and slams down hard, again, sooner, quicker and harder, her motion becoming vigorous, pounding her body into mine again and again. She pants feverishly, glistening with sweat, and thrusts with such force she must steady herself. She reaches to my chest and drives her fingernails into my flesh. I can be still no longer, and join in her rhythm.
My hands wander as we collide, exploring her marvelous body, smooth and soft yet so firm, and so heated by her furious motion. Her petite breasts bounce joyfully, and I cannot resist—my fingertips brush across her nipples and tease playfully, then venture lower, down her sleek belly and around her waist, to the slope of her curvaceous hips. Holding her flanks, I pull voraciously, driving myself deeper with each penetrating thrust. She matches my vigor and my hands thirst for more, reaching around her back to discover a magnificent contour where the two halves meet in the center. Her body is rock-solid, yet her skin is delicately soft, and bathed in a sea of sweat.
Arms around her, I tug gently, easing her forward, down to me. Her hands slide off my chest, to the grass, and a nipple drops down to tickle my waiting lips. My tongue chases after the stiff candy, salted by her sweat, a flavor that intensifies the inferno burning within me. Oh, oh, I’m ready to burst, I’m going to—
Expertly, she rolls over to slip beneath me, and postpones my ecstasy. I pull back and get up on knees spread wide, her outstretched legs against my chest. She stares up at me, out of breath and sweaty, lying in a pool of dark strands spread across our grassy bed.
With a firm hold of her thighs, I pull tight and insert myself. Slipping into her ignites a divine sensation that shoots up my spine, spreads to every extremity, and finding no quarter left to permeate, races back down and into her.
Her legs flail against my chest, she shudders, and her gentle moaning swells as her thighs quiver in my grasp. Her tummy contracts in a sudden convulsion, curling her back as it rises from the grass. She reaches to my shoulders, her moist lips slack, staring at me, and her gasps escalate to piercing cries of passion.
Her time is near. I pause our furious rhythm, remaining fully embedded within her. Her tummy tightens in small jerks, curling her back more and more, bringing her lips closer to mine.
A faint pulsing is evident during our cessation of motion. The gentle squeezing tickles my desire, joined by a warmth as her moisture flows across my groin, leading to a spasm of erotic pleasure running a wild course throughout my body.
Her sweet lips brush against mine and the gentle caress becomes the final note in our symphony of sex, unleashing the powerful storm swelling within me. My temperature soars, the bottom of my feet are
on fire!
A mighty surge erupts, her cries escalate, and she begins her climax.
Her fingers crawl up my neck and find a handful of hair. She clamps tight and tugs, pulling me down to smother my face in hers. Her moist lips slide across mine, our tongues tangling as we share orgasms, floating across a universe of ecstasy.
Excitement melts like sparks on a breeze, my body spent, all essence drained. I rest on her chest, struggling for breath, as our sweaty skins meld together. My pounding heart chases after hers, and for a moment, the two beat as one.
* * *
Slow, easy breathing, so quiet a heartbeat is clear, I lie cradled in her loving arms.
She whispers, “You’re amazing.”
With my face nuzzled against her neck, I murmur, “Only trying.”
“Trying what?” she asks, shifting to one side, straining for a look at me.
I lift my head what little I’m able, and gaze into those gorgeous brown eyes. “Trying to be as amazing as you, my dear. That was incredible.”
She smiles and pulls me down, my lips back to her neck, where very lightly, I kiss her a few times. As I melt in her embrace, she gently strokes my back and fiddles with my hair, all the while rocking me as would a mother coaxing her child to sleep.
After resting a spell, I wiggle free of her tender touches and roll over to snuggle at her side. She looks at me and smiles, her satisfaction evident.
“Now do you understand?” she asks.
“Understand what?”
“What I was telling you earlier, about sex.”
“I know I like it, I understand that much. That was wonderful.”
“Yes, it was, but I was also hoping it might help you understand better.”
My gaze wanders to the pink sky, full of puffy white clouds. “It might, but having sex that good, with you, all the thinking goes away, all the worry over what anything means. I’m so lost in it, I don’t really care if I understand anything ever again.”
“For now, and that was the point. I wanted your body to take over for a while, so you could see that it has needs, too. And calm that urge you forgot how to control.”
“There’s a way to control it?”
“Don’t starve your body’s sexual hunger. Give it what it craves. It doesn’t have to be every ten minutes of every day, but none is worse. The urge takes over and runs your life. Give your body a reasonable amount of pleasure, and it obeys. It’s happy now, right?”
“Very.”
“Now you’re calling the shots, not the body.”
So it’s another trick. Well, I’ll participate in that trick any time she asks. And her goal is reached, I do understand. Sexual relations have a profound effect. Beyond the obvious pleasure, it gives the intellect a rest. The thinking mind is off somewhere else, doing whatever. But soon it returns, armed with a question.
I look to her in earnest. “Madison, does this mean we’ll have a child?”
She looks away. “I’m sorry, Adam, we can’t do that.”
“But isn’t that the whole point, to make more bodies? You know, children.”
“There’s more to it than just making bodies. You enjoy doing it, don’t you?”
“Sure I like doing it, but what about kids?”
“We’re at war. Children take too long.”
“What do kids have to do with war?”
“They don’t, that’s the point.”
“I don’t understand.”
She gets annoyed. “Adam, you can’t fight a war in a child’s body.”
“I wouldn’t expect to. I’ll fight while I’m an adult, then I’ll come back and be a kid for a while, right?”
Her stare turns hollow. My suggestion has triggered terrible regret.
“I’m so sorry, Adam.”
“I won’t come back?”
“No, you’ll come back,” she says, her sorrow deepening. “Like always—ready to fight.”
“What do you mean?”
She hesitates, afraid to tell, like my favorite pet died while I was away.
“There are no children,” she says.
“What? Why not?”
“We’re incapable of reproducing.”
“Why?”
She reveals a disturbing bit of information. “We’re fixed, all of us. Our bodies lack the ingredients to make more.”
“Look, I didn’t ask how, I asked why. Why are there no children? Why don’t we get to be kids?”
“I’m sorry, Adam, it has to be this way. There’s no time for that.”
“You’re dodging the question. Why is there no time for children?”
“We’re at war, remember? Children are wonderful, I agree. I miss that experience as much as you, but there’s just no time for family life.”
“I don’t see why any war should keep us from having families. Just because I father a child doesn’t mean I can’t fight.”