A Land Far, Far Away

"What'd I tell you?" she laughed easily. "From zero to pissed in under 60 seconds."

Everything grew quiet.

"I mean, he was kind of . . . no good . . . after she got through with him. Not the same as he was when I first met him. She changed him, ruined him, actually. And he would've made some woman a really good husband, but she just . . . she tore him all to pieces, and I guess I, uh, I couldn't put him back together."

He shuffled his feet, lightly, not quite meeting her gaze. "All the kings horses and all the kings men couldn't put Humpty together again."

"I know, right?"

It was weird. They'd seemed to be in such a hurry to get down here, and now that they were here . . .

She cleared her throat. "I, um, I think I could . . . you know, love you or something, Daniel, but, I . . . uh . . . I've been talking to . . . various sources, and this name 'Alicia' keeps coming up, and there's all these, what I'd call, 'horror' stories tied into her, and looking back on the way we started out and whatever, I think she . . . broke you."

He looked at her, and she looked at him, dappled rays of light dancing over both of their features.

"I think you've basically put yourself back together, but I also think you've . . . misplaced some pieces, I guess."

He couldn't help but squirm. He swore his heart stopped beating, and he could feel all the blood rushing out of his body. The way he felt now, macho posturing or 'fuck you, bitch' wasn't even an option. "Wh-who've you been talking to, anyway?"

Mecca shrugged, her eyes never leaving his face. "Your dad. Terri. Jake. Michael. Your sister, Sam."

The foot shuffling turned into a forceful kick, sending forest debris beneath him flying. "Yeah? Well, the next time you talk to any of them, tell them to mind their own fucking business and stop running their mouths about shit that has nothing to do with them."

"Fair enough," she shrugged. "But . . . they only answered me because I asked. You can be so weird sometimes, Daniel, and . . . Allen used to get weird, too. And like you screamed at me that night: you're not Allen; I'm not Alicia."

Just the sound of her name made him want to curl into a little ball till he shriveled and died and was blown away.

"I know I've got my ways about me, Daniel, but I . . ." she took a step towards him, then another and another. Till she'd started her forward progression, he hadn't realized how far away they'd been standing from each other. "I'd really like to be that . . . amazing person I see reflected in your eyes sometimes when I look at you . . . But . . ."

"But what?" he finally said.

"I'm afraid I won't be enough. I'm afraid I don't know where all the pieces are . . . or even how many there are. And then, even if I manage to find them all . . . where's the guarantee I'll put them in the right place?"

Again, quiet claimed them.

"There isn't one," she finally said. "There aren't any guarantees in situations like this. But . . ."

Cars passed by. Leaves rustled. The light shifted. She moved closer.

"But what?" he finally asked.

"Trust."

"Trust," he repeated.

"Trust that I intend to do you more good than harm . . . even if I'm not quite sure how to express that 'good.'"

Right in front of him. She was right in front of him, now. She reached out, placed her hand on his shoulder, lightly following the contours of his arm till she came to his pocketed hand. After minimal resistance, she freed it from its sheath and brought it up to her mouth, placing a chaste kiss in its palm.

Daniel's breath caught in his throat, a tantalizing tingle running up and down his spine. "What're you gonna do to me?"

She smiled up at him, nibbling along the underside of his thumb. "I think the question is: what are you going to do to me?"

How could she do this? Arouse him so easily? Touch him so tenderly? Look at him so longingly? Respond to him so lovingly?

"Dammit."

"What?" she asked with a smile.

His heart was racing, his pulse was pounding, and he was quite certain his palms were sweating. Just a few minutes ago, 15 feet above, beyond this canopy of trees, it was she who couldn't wait for him, now . . .

"You're hard."

It was too dark to see it. She wasn't quite close enough to feel it.

"I can smell you," she said. "Sweat, semen and adrenalin. This cool, damp air carries scents like nobody's business, and I always pay attention to how you smell."

That was it. He needed her, and he needed her, now.

But not on the ground. They hadn't thought to bring a blanket, and her knees were bare.

"Anytime you need me," she said. "Anywhere you want me. Just say the word."

Over her shoulder he caught sight of a rather sturdy-looking oak with a thick growth of moss on its trunk. The tree wouldn't allow for any give, and the lichen would afford her some amount of comfort, prohibiting (if only slightly) the brittle bark from biting into her smooth skin.

"Against that tree," he breathed hotly against the palm of her hand.

She glanced over her shoulder at it.

With her head turned, he took the opportunity to cup the strong column of her neck in his hand, his thumb lightly ghosting her right cheek, as he lowered his lips to the front of her throat.

"Daniel . . ."

Up the underside of her jaw, over the tip of her chin, along the corners of her lips, up to the outer shell of her left ear, he tickled her with his tongue, seducing her with the softness of his lips as his mouth applied gentle suction to every square inch of her exposed flesh. "Your back against the tree. My pants around my ankles. Your shorts over that tree branch. Your legs around my waist."

She shuddered and gasped within his embrace, her arms falling limp at her sides as she allowed him free reign over her athletic frame. As he stepped forward, she stepped back, his lips never losing contact with some part of her form.

Forward and back. Forward and back. Forward and back till they reached his pre-determined destination.

Once there, he immediately loosened the drawstring to his pants, letting them fall to the forest floor, then dropped his drawers, giving his erection the room it needed to grow. He then pushed her firmly against the trunk of the tree, slipping his hands beneath her shirt to see to the fasteners on cut-offs. First the button, then the zipper.

"Good," she crooned to him. "So fucking good." She lifted her left leg, then her right, allowing him to completely undress her from the waist down.

As he'd said, he placed the two garments on a nearby branch, hanging just to her right over her head. Once he'd completed the job, and they were, again face-to-face, he positioned his feet in between hers, brushing his burning cock against her right inner thigh. He'd made no move to touch her between the legs as of yet, but there was a glistening trail there just the same. He eased her legs further apart, widening his stance and hers, then, again, sent his left hand up her shirt, only to smooth itself across the firm flesh of her stomach, then over the softly-rounded swell of her hips, the taut muscles of her inner thigh and the slick surface of her woman's entrance.

Mecca gasped.

He kissed her as he caressed her, his fingers exploring, his hips rocking, his tongue still detecting traces of his seed in her mouth. She opened herself up to him, allowing him access to her every orifice. "You have such a pretty pussy, Mecca."

The girl groaned.

"All trimmed. So smooth."

"D--daniel . . ."

"All hot and tight."

Mecca merely nodded, her breathing coming in gulps and swallows.

"And you're so fucking wet, Mecca. Dripping." He felt a shudder shoot through her spine, his form allowing her no forward movement, the tree prohibiting any type of retreat. "You're literally melting in my hand."

"Yeah," she nodded. "Feels good."

"What feels good?"

"You feel good," she sighed heavily. "Your hand, your fingers. Your lips, your tongue." She drew in a deep breath and pushed it out, his fingers moving from merely circling her clit to actually rubbing it. "That crazy crop of facial hair you got goin' on, and . . ." Her sentence trailed off as her eyes drifted closed.

"And what?"

"That big. Beautiful. Cock of yours, Daniel. Please put it in me."

"Yeah?" he asked.

She reached down and took hold of him, stroking him from base to tip, then directed it to her entrance, holding it steady as she ran her slick folds over his engorged member.

"Damn . . ." He thrust himself further into her hand, her abundant juices coating his cock as her soft palm encased him. "All right, princess," he reached behind her taking her ass in both his hands, slightly hoisting her off the ground, "get 'em up."

She gasped at the suddenness at her change in position, throwing her back against the tree to maintain her balance. "Owww."

He brought his mouth down to her ear. "Sorry."

"Warn a girl before you do something like that," she laughed.

"Sorry," he repeated.

"Man, I'm gonna have so many bruises from this weekend, I'll look like a fucking leper."

He kissed her below her left earlobe, kneading the globes of her ass as he ground himself against her. "A fine ass leper."

She giggled, wrapping her arms around his neck, pulling him to her as he serviced her with his lips, teeth and tongue. "Daniel . . ."

He pushed her hair back from the nape of her neck with the tip of his nose, inhaling deeply, delighting in the change in the air around them. What was once dead and decaying was now spicy and alive, their combined sexual scents mixing and melding with the leaves, trees and damp earth. Perhaps this was how Adam and Eve first came to know each other in that blessed garden of Eden all those years ago at the beginning of time, or rather, at the dawn of man. Naked to the world, reveling in earthly delights, basking in each other's company, shaded from the harsh heat of the newly-created sun, but always under the watchful eyes of God.

"What's that smile for?"

He knew she couldn't see his face, but perhaps she could feel the shape of his mouth in the curve of her neck. "Can I call you 'Eve?'"

"Eve?" she laughed, tilting her head to the side, allowing him better access to her most sensitive areas above the waist. "And I should call you 'Adam,' I suppose?"

He hoisted her up higher, further spreading her legs, forcing her to, again, find a new sense of balance. He then pulled her hips flush against his, his turgid tool just below her welcoming entrance, his heated groin pressed to her woman's mound, his pubic hair tangling with hers.

Her chest heaved beneath the flimsy fabric of her white caftan, the tips of her hardened peaks reaching him even through two layers of fabric. "This was a pretty good idea of mine," she said. "You look pretty hot in this light: like 'You Tarzan; me Jane.'"

"Nothing like some filtered light to diffuse the ugly."

She grabbed his face then, in both of her hands, pressing her lips to his, refusing to relent till he'd opened himself to her, allowing her access to the deepest recesses of his oral cavity. Their tongues touched, their teeth gnashed, their lips grew tender and swollen. Still, she refused to release him, till he found himself panting and quivering beneath her touch. "You are not ugly."

He focused solely on her face, noting with great interest how the dappled light danced in her dark eyes, a teeny-tiny reflection of himself caught in her twin pools.

"You are . . . ridiculously beautiful to me . . . and if you don't fuck me right now, against this tree, I'm gonna cold-cock your ass and rape you on the forest floor."

He put on his most indignant expression. "Twigs'll get up my ass."

"If I have to act like the man in this situation, twigs'll be the least of your worries."

He smiled at her, giving her ass a playful squeeze. "So Jane wants to swing on Tarzan's vine."

"No. Eve wants to be plowed by Adam's tool."

"Or maybe Mecca wants to get lucky with Jamie after the prom."

She slapped his chest, the nylon of the jacket adding a degree or two to the volume of the stinging blow. "Fuck you," she laughed.

He let her bottom drop down, his hands sliding to the middle of her thighs, spreading her legs, leaving her core open and exposed, allowing him to push into her. "No," he brought her further down upon him, filling her to the hilt, "fuck you."

Mecca gasped, her legs instantly locking around him, half for support, half from blind need. Her hands grabbed on to nearby branches to help keep her upright.

He moved his hands back to her ass, lending her further support as she attempted to ride his cock, her back bowed against the bark of the tree trunk, her heels digging into his lower back. "That's it," he said. "Move them hips, girl."

"Dammit . . . Daniel . . ."

He grunted, thrusting himself forward, tightening his hold on her hips as her movements became less measured, more free. "Ride my cock, Mecca. Fuck it hard. Milk it dry."

The slick sounds of flesh slapping against flesh soon filled the formerly quiet clearing. The tree shook from the force of their actions, branches bending, leaves trembling, Mecca's shorts and panties falling to the forest floor. He followed the bounce of her restrained breasts, the smooth lines and pronounced angles of her clavicle as her neck and shoulders strained, the tree acting as her only solid support in their erotic endeavor. Sweat poured down her face; her caftan clung to her. She was clearly near the point of collapse, though not the point of climax.

"Let go," he said.

"What?"

"Hold on to me," he added. "Wrap yourself around me. Arms around my neck."

"I'm too heavy," she panted. "You'll drop me."

He continued to thrust into her, his cock making the most obscene sounds as their combined fluids squished around inside her. "I'll fall flat on my ass," he said, "before I let that happen. Trust me."

She ground herself into him, throwing her head back. "Mmmm . . ."

He slid his hands up her back, bunching the fabric up, then smoothing it back down, pulling her forward to lean against him. "That's it. I gotcha."

Mecca sighed. "Damn . . ." she rolled her damp head against his broad shoulder. "I swear I can feel you at the top of my head."

He stayed still within her for moment, simply enjoying the tight feel of her hot sheath all along his fleshy sword. He placed his mouth at the base of her neck and worked his way up, licking, sucking and nibbling his way to her left earlobe. There, he bit, sucked then traveled the outer shell of her ear with the softness of his lips. "Not heavy at all," he said. "Pure heaven in my hands."

Mecca shivered.

He gave her a light swat on her right ass cheek. "C'mon, now. Get back to work. You can't hang around here all day."

She gave him a light nip on the side of his neck then kissed it away. "Slave driver."

As he was about to come back with a snappy retort, she produced a movement that was so slight but so precise, it nearly drove him over the edge.

"Kegels," she replied to his unasked question.

He had no clue what a kegel was, but if it was responsible for the sensation he just experienced, God bless kegels.

She repeated the process again, this time tilting her hips forward, seeming to allow him to slip in even further.

"Dammit, Mecca . . ."

Then she began to move, slowly, sensually, seductively up and down the length of his shaft, the tip of his erection never leaving the warmth of her undulating canal. Her head rested on his shoulder, her breasts to his chest, her arms wrapped around his neck, her legs locked around his waist, her pelvis pressed firmly against his as her pubic hair repeatedly brushed against his.

He closed his eyes, his head falling back as his hips thrust forward.

"No sleeping on the job," she warned him.

He then brought his mouth to hers, his tongue mimicking the movements of his lower extremities, his hold on her hind end tightening as he felt himself nearing his peak.

"I'm close, Daniel. Can't last much . . . longer . . ."

He slipped his hand beneath her, running his finger along her crack, coating it in their juices then circling it around her puckered little hole.

The girl tensed.

"Relax," he whispered. "I won't stick it in but . . . just let me make you feel good."

She shifted in his embrace.

"Does it hurt?" he kept his touch feather-light, his movements rhythmic and deliberate, the tip of his finger rimming the tiny aperture.

She shook her head "no." unable, or perhaps, unwilling to give a verbal response.

"I'd never want to hurt you," he said, "and sometimes it seems like . . . you like me to play in your backfield."

She seemed torn, uncertain as to which stimulation she preferred more: the cock in her pussy or the finger rimming her ass. She laughed, a deep, guttural, altogether alluring laugh. "And you said you'd never want to try it."

"I don't but . . ."

"Butt," she laughed.

He removed his finger and pulled her legs from around his waist, holding her up till her feet touched the ground. "Face the tree," he said.

He watched as her chest heaved, the filtered lighting fleeing across her face as leaves twirled on the breeze and cars passed by overhead. He then grabbed her around the waist, forcing her against him before sliding his hands down to cup to the firm globes of her bare ass. "Afraid I'll do something you won't like?" he asked.

"It's dark," she said easily. "Anyone could make a mistake."

He kissed the top of her forehead. "No. No mistake. My arms are just tired, okay?"

"I told you I was heavier than I looked."

He slipped a finger in her from behind, the single digit lightly scraping the warm, wet walls. "And I told you I won't let you fall."

Her eyes drifted closed, her ass attempting to sit on the source of the undoubtedly wonderful sensations currently coursing through her frame.

"Turn around. Grab the tree. Spread your legs."

Her hips bucked, the beginnings of her first orgasm coating his finger. He turned her away from him, keeping his hand in place, then forced an arch in her back as he urged her legs apart with the sides of his feet. He inched his right hand forward, removing his finger from her entrance, but positioning it and his index finger directly above her clit. He then took hold of himself with his left hand, sliding it swiftly home, his fingers deftly swirling over her center of pleasure.

She grit her teeth, cutting off the scream before she could make it.

"That's it," he said. "Take my cock. Work those hips."

Mecca panted, her shoulders slumping, her head dropping.

"Does it feel good?" he asked her. "Does it fill you up? Stretch you tight?"

"Fuck yeah," she called back.

"Do you feel my cock, Mecca? Feel it in that hot, little hole of yours?"

She pushed back against him, following every movement of his hips. "So big," she said. "So hard and smooth."

"That's right. Take it. Take it and love it."

"Ohhh, Daniel . . . Fuck me hard. Rub my clit. Spank my ass."

To oblige her, he delivered a stinging blow across her backside as his fingers continued to work her clit to a turgid erection. He felt the flutter of her inner walls, then the tightness of his balls, the tension in his groin. His vision blurred, her form clouding before him, his thrusts increasing, spurred on by a blind need for completion.

"Daniel!"

Her inner muscles clamped down on him, he roared his release, repeatedly slamming into her till he was spent and soft, and she had no choice but to cling to the tree before her to avoid completely collapsing to the ground.