Taking Flight (7 page)

Hazel hesitated for a moment, then pulled the long kaftan she was wearing over her head to reveal the familiar form from yesterday. Deborah had never seen a woman so unashamedly naked, and she couldn’t help staring. Fine red lines swept across her flesh in a searing network but Hazel wore them proudly, as if her body was a tapestry of her sexual adventures. Deborah was impressed and let her legs part a little, savoring the water swirling around her exposed muff, ruffling her hairs just as the gentle breeze ruffled Hazel’s.

“Should be fairly warm in there,” Hazel said, dipping a perfectly pointed toe into the pool while Deborah watched her nipples stiffen with the cold.

“I think it might be just below tepid.” Deborah smiled and her new friend smiled back.

“We tell ourselves these things…to… make—” She was catching her breath and shivering as she stepped in to join Deborah. “– it easier.” Her teeth were chattering and she kicked her way over until their shoulders were touching. “You’d think I’d be used to it by now.”

Deborah sighed in agreement, thinking back to the whipping she’d witnessed Hazel endure and appear to enjoy. It seemed like the perfect moment to bring up the subject and maybe apologize for watching, but she couldn’t. She just kept silent and lifted her toes, breaking the surface of the water alongside Hazel’s. It was a pretty display and she had to resist the urge to entwine her feet around the other woman’s. Deborah felt like she was under some kind of spell. She could almost hear the shafts of sunlight breaking through the trees and striking the water. She took in her surroundings. Tall, thick trunks of oak, lime, silver birch, and ash stretched up to the sky, reaching out with their flickering leafy fingers, allowing light to spatter down at their discretion. Deborah knew she was at the mercy of this place. She was not the one in control here, and neither were her companions. The forest belonged to these mighty trees, and Deborah felt their power acutely around the silent pool.

“You know,” Hazel said softly while they floated on their backs, staring at the patterned sky, “for all my tolerance to pain, I’ve never got used to the cold.”

Deborah glanced over. It was a clever way for Hazel to let her know she knew they’d been watching. At least, that’s what she thought it meant.

“I’m not so bad in the cold. It’s thirst I can’t bear.”

“Ahh, you’re a water nymph. I thought so. Your very spirit seemed to plump up in joy when you went in.”

“What about you, what are you?”

“Oh, I’m a fire imp.” Hazel started to laugh heartily and Deborah joined in. “You’ll be thinking I’ve turned into some weird hippy from being too long in the forest.”

“Well…” Deborah raised an eyebrow her way and laughed again. Hazel was easy company and Deborah felt completely relaxed.

“Here, let me wash you.” Hazel darted to the poolside and brought back a bar of soap.

Deborah was a little taken aback when Hazel rubbed the soap into a thick foam and passed it to her.

“Here, hold this,” she said, turning Deborah away.

Deborah tingled as the lightest touch floated across her neck and shoulders, getting stronger and firmer as it went. Hazel started to knead the suds into her flesh, around and around in a hypnotic rhythm, sending Deborah into that hazy place of languid arousal. She let her eyes fall shut and Hazel reached under her arms, lifting them skyward and gently asking her to hold them there. Deborah did as she was bid and leaned back into the caresses of the older woman. Her touch was like silk as it snaked up and down her arms, raising the tiny hairs and making her flesh buzz.

Hazel reached lower into Deborah’s armpits and then her ribcage. Deborah knew this was a seduction but she could do nothing to resist. She peered down to her breasts, which were riding high on her chest, forced up by holding her arms in the air. Hazel’s touch ventured around just below them and, despite herself, Deborah willed her to cup them, knead them. The warmth of Hazel’s breath tickled at her neck as she slid her hands up over the swell of Deborah’s breasts, taking her nipples between each thumb and forefinger and squeezing gently. Deborah sighed and leaned back into Hazel’s shoulder, not quite tall enough to lay her head on it.

“You’ve got beautiful tits,” Hazel purred, and the words snapped Deborah out of the hypnotic spell.

She pulled away from her embrace just as they heard the sound of footsteps approaching. Birch and Marcus swept through the undergrowth as Deborah ducked under the water, trying to shake off what might have just happened. She’d long known she and Marcus were unusual because they were monogamous, but the situation had never really arisen before that they felt they wanted to take other partners. Because of that, what had almost just happened between her and Hazel made Deborah feel guilty. She wondered what Marcus would have thought if he’d arrived just a few seconds earlier.

It was like they were a married couple from the history books. Society had once been built on monogamy, affairs outside wedlock deemed a terrible thing, leading to families splitting up and dreadful heartache. In theory, a society that promoted free love between consenting adults was a good thing—a more mature way of thinking—but Deborah felt she’d been monogamous too long to happily go down that route, guilt free.

“That looks good, mind if we join you?” Marcus looked genuinely happy at last, and Deborah had to wonder at how quickly Birch had gained his trust.

“Of course,” she cried, beaming up at him, but with one hand she reached down between her legs and swished away the pool of desire that had welled there.

The two men pulled their shirts off and hopped while they yanked off their bottoms in perfect unison.

“Isn’t this amazing?” Marcus smiled as he waded toward her, not even flinching at the cool water. “I’ve never been anywhere so beautiful.” He picked her up and kissed her deeply in full view of Birch and Hazel.

Deborah wrapped her arms around his neck and blushed as he bobbed her down in the water to let her feel his stiffening rod prod at her. Her body, still hot and confused, clutched at this advance and her pussy flooded with heat and desire, juices mingling with the slow-flowing river.

“Ahh, young love.” Birch sighed, leaning into his mate, staring unashamedly at Deborah and Marcus.

Marcus released Deborah and pulled her into a languid embrace, floating by his side. She rested her head into him and the two couples looked at each other and smiled contentedly. And while her heart began to slow into a steady rhythm again, Deborah felt real peace for the first time in longer than she could remember.

Chapter 8

“How did you know you’d be able to survive out here?” Deborah handed Hazel some dry twigs to add to the fire that had almost gone out while they’d been bathing. Hazel gently fanned the embers with a hand-woven mat and took a while to respond.

“We didn’t,” she said, regarding Deborah with a slight apprehension, as if she was unsure of what she was about to say. “When you need to survive, you will.”

She turned back to the fire with something unsaid hanging in the air. Deborah took it as a warning not to pry into the reason for the older couple’s exile.

“So, what do you think we’ll have for dinner?” Deborah said, breezily changing the subject as she crouched down beside Hazel and blew on the tiny flickering flames.

“Oh God, hopefully not bloody squirrel again.”

They laughed together, Hazel obviously pleased that Deborah had so readily understood the shorthand of their communication.

The crack of a twig put the women on full alert and Hazel pushed Deborah behind her in an act of protection. Deborah was touched and annoyed at the same time. Being tiny meant everyone felt the need to protect her, and it could become tiresome having to prove her strength and worldliness over and over again. But she decided this was no time to be indignant as muffled voices came from behind the surrounding foliage. Hazel pulled her in tighter and she could feel the rise and fall of her ribcage beneath the kaftan. At last Birch and Marcus broke through the greenery, Marcus beaming with pride at the two fluffy-tailed squirrels that hung limply from his outstretched hand, Birch looking tight-jawed and grim.

“Fucking hell, watch your step,” Birch hissed. “That’s the seventh branch you’ve cracked.”

The lecture did nothing to dim Marcus’s delight at presenting his quarry.

“Look what I’ve brought you,” he said, holding out the squirrels for Deborah, who winced and crept backward.

“You two better toughen up.” Birch stalked off to his dwelling, leaving Hazel to explain his turn in mood.

“He’s a highly strung guy,” she said, taking the carcasses from Marcus. “Don’t worry, it’s nothing personal. He’ll be fine in a minute or two.”

Marcus obviously couldn’t care less about Birch’s mood and grabbed Deborah, kissing her hard and deep, still exhilarated by his first kill.

“Ah, Deborah—” He reached in and roughly groped her breast. “—this is the life for me, I’m telling you. I’ve never felt so alive before, out here with nature. It’s all here for us. This can be ours.”

Deborah felt self-conscious and nervous of Marcus somehow and rolled her eyes, looking over to Hazel. “Can you believe it? Two little rodents and he thinks he’s the greatest huntsman who ever lived.”

Marcus seemed to take it in good spirits and pulled her up to kiss her again. He was high as a kite, and stiff. He wrapped his arms around her, pulling her in tight just to make sure she felt him. She felt him all right, but she felt the eyes of Hazel staring at her too.

“Let’s go somewhere,” Deborah whispered with her head turned away from the crouching woman.

“You’re on.” He lifted her, accidentally pulling up her skirt and exposing her buttocks to their audience. “See you at dinner time,” he said loudly, winking at Hazel, who smiled knowingly back.

As she was carried off toward their makeshift hut at the other side of the clearing, Deborah watched Hazel make her way to her own dwelling and into the arms of Birch, who stood naked and hard in the doorway. The sight brought back the memory of the whipping and the delicate touch of Hazel tweaking her nipple in the river. Deborah was suddenly wet, and it took her by surprise.

“Hello, what have we got here?” Marcus growled as his fingers sneaked up under her ass. He lowered her to the floor of their new home, taking full advantage of her vulnerable state, and slid his middle finger into her. “You’re fucking soaking.” The musk of his excitement and sweat that lingered after the hunt came off him in waves, making her giddy. “What have you been up to while I was gone, hmm?”

Deborah was about to protest her innocence but the thought seemed to be turning him on.

“Have you been naughty? Has that bad woman been sticking her long fingers up inside you? Hmm?”

His body undulated against hers; his flesh was burning up with desire and he bit into her ravenously while holding her arms above her head. She gasped as he reached around the floor, grabbing a piece of vine rope left over from building the structure and lashed it around her wrists, tying her to the central trunk that was the basis of their house. Grabbing the shirt that her chest strained against, he ripped it open, ravishing her breasts with searing kisses, suckling, biting, and fucking her tits and nipples with his whole mouth. Deborah’s body buzzed with sensations and her pussy juice dribbled out, smearing her labia, thighs, and ass with her own wanton desire.

“Marcus, I need your cock. I need it inside me, I need to be fucked, Marcus, please.” She was begging wretchedly, and she flinched in delight as she saw his expression darken.

In all the times they’d made love, she’d never felt such a feral need for his cock. Her pussy was so racked with sensitivity she knew she would come again and again around him as he pulled and tugged against the walls of her cunt, stretching and opening, lubricating her until she was fully impaled. If only he would sink his pulsing rod into her.

“Marcus, fuck me now,” she commanded through gritted teeth, and tipped her pelvis up to meet the tip of his steel-hard cock.

He looked at her again with that lascivious stare and leaned into her neck. “No,” he whispered menacingly. “And do not say another word.” He smoothed her hair off her sweat-misted face and snaked kisses all the way down her abdomen.

“No, not that,” Deborah pleaded again. She didn’t want to come in his mouth; she wanted the fullness that only his cock could bring.

He lifted his head abruptly and slapped her hard on the side of her thigh, just near the crease of her ass. “I said, do not say another word.”

The sound of the slap had shocked her more than the sting, and as the heat began to spread over her flesh, she smiled to herself. Another wave of pure wanton desire surged through her pussy and clit, spilling more of her juices out. He slapped her once more then forced her legs together as he yanked her skirt off roughly. Deborah’s pussy was clenching and peaking now and she was getting angry with the frustration.

Marcus flung her skirt to the side and grabbed her inner thighs, parting them until she thought she’d split. He stared at her swollen, clutching pussy for a moment, feasting on the wet hole with his eyes as Deborah watched him. He gave her a brief, warm smile then dived onto her, opening her thick lips with his greedy tongue, lapping with the full length of it all the way down to the rosebud of her ass and back up, melting her with sensation.

She concentrated hard as he teased her straining bud, swirling the tip of his tongue around it, lifting the tiny hood and circling it until she was in a frenzy, bucking and twisting away from him. She wanted more; she wanted, needed him inside her. In answer to her silent pleading, he stilled her hips and slid two of his thick, strong fingers inside her slippery depths. She sighed, her eyelids fluttering and rolling as she arched her back, lifting her cunt higher for his oral attentions. He began to thrust in time with his tonguing, fingering her hard and fast, pushing her to the brink of orgasm.

She held her breath to embrace to moment of stillness before the crashing came, but he stopped and pulled his face and fingers away. Fury flashed through her and she lifted her head to shout at him. Kneeling between her legs, he smiled with his finger pressed to his lips, commanding her to keep quiet. He took the digits he’d just been fucking her with deep into his mouth, sucking off her want, before tearing off his own clothes and casting them aside. His body rippled with pure testosterone, and Deborah thought she heard herself actually yelp at the sight of his hard cock.