Anne Hath-her-way

I checked the AK-47 and it has a full magazine, and I had picked up another one from one of the vehicles. I was not going down without a fight.

As the sun set we found a blanket in the trunk of Yusif's car and huddled together in the back seat. Out of the blue Anne turned my face toward hers and asked "Are you sexually attracted to me?"

I laughed. "How could you think otherwise given the reaction in my nether region when I saw you naked at the beach? Plus, if you're honest with yourself you've got to know that you're plasma hot."

She got a sly smile then continued. "Are you sure that we die tomorrow?"

"I'm 98% certain," I replied after a pause, thinking it over.

"Then why aren't you ravaging me right now. I certainly couldn't stop you having your way with me; you're more than a hundred pounds heavier than I am and four times as strong."

"Sorry; I'm not built that way. I couldn't live with myself for even the few hours we have left if I raped you," I earnestly responded.

Her smile actually got wicked and she simultaneously kissed me and started undressing. Even if I wanted to resist - which of course I didn't - I couldn't have.

After we were partially unclothed she murmured "Let's configure this shit car to at least be partially comfortable."

With that, shirtless but with my pants and shoes still on, I hopped out of the car, moved the front passenger seat as far forward as it would go, and with strength that I didn't know that I had, but obviously increased by the adrenaline pumping through me as I looked at Anne's killer tits, actually ripped it off, and threw it aside. Then I closed the front door and crawled into the rear with a now naked Anne.

I laid Anne down on the back seat on top of the blanket as I got to work licking and fingering her pussy like it might be my last time ever - which it probably was. Even though we were both grimy and sweaty it made no difference to me. She screamed like she was being tortured as her first orgasm hit, and then shook violently after she came down from her first and climaxed a second time.

After she regained cognizance from her second orgasm she mumbled "Fuck me now you bastard."

I ripped off my boots and threw them out the car door, pulled off my pants and boxers, and made myself comfortable sitting on the back seat behind where the front passenger seat had been. Naked Anne crawled on top of me, and lowered her wet pussy onto my rigid upright cock while I groaned in satisfaction and she chirped her appreciation. We soon got into a rhythm where I moved my crotch down as she moved hers up, and vice versa, getting long intense stimulations of all of the nerve endings in her pussy and my cock. It was like my cock was molded specifically for her pussy.

Occasionally I sucked her tits, while I fingered her asshole, until our fucking started speeding up. Our simultaneous crescendo hit as her pussy clamped like a vice on my dick and I sucked her left tit like a vacuum cleaner. My cock was like a fire hose in spraying fluid into her womb with such intensity I was almost surprised that I didn't jettison her off of me. The pulsations of my cock and the contractions of her pc muscles continued for the longest time in my experience, longer than I thought possible.

I think that we were both at least someone comatose for a few minutes before we regained awareness. When we did I slowly extricated my cock from her sopping pussy, and she collapsed onto my shoulder. I pulled what parts of our clothing were near us to partially cover us, and completely covered us with the blanket and closed the back door of the car. Just before we both passed out from emotional and physical exhaustion she mumbled into my ear "I really hope that we survive; I want to do that again more than anything else in my life."

I simply chuckled in agreement "You got that right," I mumbled.

Somehow - I don't really recall the details because my mind was in a fog - we fucked again in the middle of the night. I think that it was when I spooned her while mauling her tits, but to be honest my mind was so awash in endorphins and was so clouded with both the reality of the situation and the fantasy of fucking her, that I'm not 100% sure. What I do know is that knocking off a piece of sex goddess ass in the middle of the night was heavenly.

***************

Anne and I woke up almost simultaneously - obviously our bodies were in sync not just sexually, but physically - the next morning still in each other's arms (not that there was much room to separate). "Hi Aphrodite," I smiled at her, giving her a delicious kiss despite the fact that we both had halitosis.

With first a smile and then a grim look on her face Anne replied "Let's do our best to survive. I badly need you to fuck me again - maybe even in a bed."

"If we don't survive it won't be for lack of effort," I replied.

We got dressed, even with some clean clothes from our duffle bags, ate the putrid K-rations that were our only food, and slugged down a half liter of water each. Despite the fact that the temperature was in the 50s I didn't feel the least bit cold, and it didn't appear that Anne did either. The warm glow from the two best fucks of our life apparently sustained us.

We went over plans about what to do to try to stay alive when the Azerbaijani military showed up. About 10:00 a. m. the strangest thing happened. A convoy of four Jeep-like vehicles was moving past us but stopped when they saw Yusif's Corolla between the boulders. I was ready with my stolen AK-47 and almost fired it at the apparent leader when he called out to me in Armenian "Are you Anne and Blake?"

"Who are you?" I replied.

"I'm Major Aslanyan from the Armenian army. We were sent by an American film crew to find you and since you are in Nagorno-Karabakh territory we can recover you without engaging the Azerbaijani army.

I told Anne to stay put and cautiously approached him, my AK-47 pointing downwardly but at the ready. I saw no indication of any hostility among the ten or so men in the vehicles. I recognized their uniforms as Armenian and I exchanged words with a number of the soldiers, each one speaking perfect Armenian. With more relief than I have ever felt in my life I waved Anne over. She hugged me tightly, and then to the embarrassment of the Major and the snickers of his men hugged him to.

To make a long story short by 6:00 p. m. that day we were in an actual hotel, with showers and a hot tub, in the village of Tsapatagh near the eastern shore of Lake Sevan. After a shower together (no fucking) and a soak in the hot tub we ate some real food for dinner, the first we had had in what seemed like a month, but was probably less than two days. "Don't eat too much," Anne warned me with a smile. "I don't want you falling asleep on me before Anne hath-her-way with you."

I pinched her ass, but did stop eating, knowing that there was something I wanted to do way more than eating food that night.

The sex with Anne - on-and-off with periods of sheer exhaustion between rounds - lasted the entire night. We were both bleary eyed and walking bowlegged the next morning but I was more fulfilled than at any other time of my life and there was every indication that Anne felt the same way.

That day we returned to Yerevan trying our best to have no PDA and having decided not to mention the fact that I killed seven Azerbaijani. We were genuinely warmly greeted by all of the cast and crew. Anne insisted that we start filming promptly and after she talked to the director he came up to me and asked "Care for a bit part in the movie? Anne wants to substitute you for the attempted kidnapper character; no extra pay though."

"Sure," I smiled; I mean I wasn't ever going to be in another movie the rest of my life.

We finished shooting three days later - Anne and I shared her bed all four of the nights remaining in Yerevan, the best sex of my life - and ten of us were boarding the private Gulfstream to fly back to the US the next morning, the assistant director and director of photography staying behind for a few days to wrap things up with the crew. With almost everyone else asleep on the plane, and with Anne and I as remote from them as we could be in a private plane, she turned my face toward her.

"Do you see us in a relationship?" she seriously asked.

I had been thinking about this ever since we first made love - because I never considered sex with her just fucking; there was an emotional component for me. I chose my words carefully.

"Anne; I probably love you; never having been in love before despite the fact that I'm 29 I can't be sure. What I am sure of, however, is that you are the sexiest woman in my experience by such a wide margin it's like you're on a different planet. However, we're from different worlds. You're sophisticated and worldly; rich and famous. I'm about as unsophisticated and bland as they come. I don't think that it's fair to you for me to try and pursue a relationship with you, and I see only ultimate heartbreak for me."

She stared at me with a cross expression; then mumbled "You're too fucking logical; I really wish that you weren't my best lover ever, because I'll pine for you - just like you'll pine for me - until I purge you from my mind!" Then she buried her head in my shoulder and promptly fell asleep.

*************

Back in Boise, Idaho - culturally about as far away from Los Angeles/Hollywood as can be and still be in the same country - I did pine for Anne. I followed her online and in the tabloids. I was happy for her when she got married in September, 2012, but I never tried communicating with her. It would have been too painful.

I didn't purge Anne from my mind until the summer of 2014 when I was hiking in the wilderness and came across two women in distress. One of them - Amy - had somehow broken her ankle, and her friend - Bridgett - was trying her best to help her along but wasn't strong enough to do much good.

I bound Amy's ankle, fashioned a make-shift crutch from some nearby logs and the foam rubber from one of my backpack straps, and gave Bridgett Amy's backpack to carry. I called in for a rescue vehicle which could meet us about two miles away, and between Amy's crutch and me carrying her (she probably weighed only 100 pounds) we made it to the pickup location without incident.

There was an issue, however. Bridgett looked like an unsophisticated version of Anne. She was probably an inch shorter and seven-eight pounds of muscle heavier, but her facial features and mannerisms - and best that I could determine with her clothes on - boobs and ass were close enough that she could have been Anne's younger sister.

After Amy was treated at the hospital and I took Bridgett to pick up her car and transport Amy home to her husband, Bridgett accepted my offer of dinner.

I'm normally as slow as molasses in relationships, which is a main reason why I never fell in love before I met Anne. That wasn't an issue with Bridgett. I never told her that she was an unsophisticated version of Anne, or what that meant to me, because I never saw the need to. We were fucking after the third date, making love after the fifth, moved in together after knowing each other all of two months, and were married six months after that. Now seven years later we have two kids and I'm as happy as a pig in poop.

I did have one last contact with Anne in the middle of 2020. Without telling Bridgett what I was doing I dressed and made her up to look just like Anne, had photos taken of the two of us in various poses, including kissing, and sent a letter to Anne's publicist with the photos and with a note that simply said "Guess who my wife looks like? Happily married with two kids! Fondly, Blake."

A month later I got a FedEx package from Anne. In it were three photos of the two of us taken in Armenia that I didn't even know existed. With them was a photo of Anne and her husband. While I was a lot bigger than he was there was no doubt that his facial features were similar to mine - in fact, he really did look like my older brother. "Touché, Anne" was all that her note said, with a lipstick imprint next to her signature.

"Touché, Anne," I said to myself, before hiding her packet in one of my dresser drawers, only to be taken out on the anniversary of our night together in the broken-down Corolla when we thought that we'd die the next day.