Fire in the Belly

He tried to drag himself back to reality.

Take her pants off, take her pants off. How was he to do that when she was too limp to stand?

In the end, he repeated his manoeuvre of the previous evening and laid her over his shoulder, allowing him to hold her in position with one hand, while the other delved between the waistband of her leggings and the generous flesh of her warm backside.

Having established a handhold, he eventually managed to pull away all of her lower garments. Panties, leggings, and socks dropped to the floor in a tangle, leaving her, at last, completely disrobed.

Now standing with an utterly naked young woman slung over his shoulder, Matthew found himself at a loss. After a long moment of inaction, he heard her make a noise of impatience. Feeling foolish, he glanced around for inspiration, then gently laid her on the sleeping pad in front of the fire.

Before he could straighten up, she grasped his shirt with both hands and pulled with such surprising strength that he had to drop to his hands and knees to prevent himself collapsing atop her.

Curling her legs around his waist, the young woman contrived to lift herself bodily from the pad. Looking into his eyes from a distance of mere inches, she spoke in a voice thick with passion.

"You'll forgive me if I hurry things along a little," she said.

"Uh ..." he began, but she interrupted.

"Stand up, damn it," she said, "so I can strip you."

Matthew rose to his feet, drawing the young woman with him, clinging like a limpet.

The young woman dropped to her feet, then looked with deep disapproval at the clothing barring her access to him. Turning her attention to her quivering hands, she gave them such an intimidating glare that they actually seemed to calm somewhat. Satisfied, she tackled the fastenings of his clothes.

The speed with which she stripped him astonished Matthew. He doubted that he himself could have removed his clothing so quickly.

He stood completely naked, fighting the urge to cover his privates.

Matthew felt supremely self-conscious and uncomfortable. If he feared ridicule, though, it was for no valid reason: when she caught sight of his erection, her eyes widened, apparently in awe. She murmured something he could not catch, but he was pretty sure he recognised astonishment in her tone.

"Lie down on your back, please, Mister Quinn," she purred. "It's time to get serious."

Still trembling with desire, she watched impatiently as he slowly and reluctantly obeyed her command, then mounted him, unceremoniously took hold of his penis, and guided him into the sweet spot between her legs.

As she engulfed him, a weird thought occurred to Matthew: was this how it felt to be swallowed by a python?

Groaning, she descended upon a gasping Matthew, until there came a point where it seemed to him that she could go no further, though he could feel that his member was not fully enclosed.

A strong shudder passed through her body. In its wake, she seemed much calmer.

"I'm fucking filled," she breathed triumphantly. "Christ Almighty, that's a relief!"

She shuddered again, then relaxed even more. Now, she seemed composed enough to function almost normally. She looked down at Matthew and smiled.

"Having a good time, Mister Quinn?" she said.

Matthew blushed deeply, and looked away.

"Yes, ma'am," he murmured.

The young woman found his shyness enormously cute. She didn't know how long it had been since she'd fucked a blusher.

The thought gave her pause. She examined him carefully, reading his facial expression and body language, and came to the delightful conclusion that she was dealing with an actual sexual newby.

Double cute! she thought ... then frowned. He must be feeling horribly self-conscious.

Gentle empathy was not her forte. Yet, neither was she devoid of human sympathy.

"I know you're breaking new ground here, Mister Quinn," she said slowly, trying to summon words of comfort. "Don't worry. I promise everything will be okay. Just relax and enjoy the dance."

His secret exposed, Matthew gazed up at her with an expression of such bashful trust that she found her heart unusually moved.

She recalled the circumstances leading up to their tryst, and, uncharacteristically, found herself feeling compassion for him. After all, he had not planned or initiated any of this; not consciously, anyway. Whether by choice or no, it had all come from her side.

"I guess I have to thank you for going along with this, Mister Quinn," she said slowly. "I know you didn't ask for any of it to happen.

Then she smiled.

"Still'n'all, it's high time someone took you in hand and showed you the ropes, a man of your stature."

"It's alright, ma'am," Matthew said, "but ... uh ... maybe ... maybe you could tell me something about yourself. It feels strange, having ... uh ... making love with a woman I know almost nothing about."

"Sure," she agreed. "As long as you don't mind me riding you while we talk. I have a feeling I'll start going cross-eyed again if I don't.

He blushed again.

"I don't mind," he said quietly.

The young woman smiled, rose up, then slowly filled herself once more, making Matthew gasp again.

"What do you want to know?" she asked.

"How about we ... start with your n-name?" he managed.

Up again, and s-l-o-w-l-y down.

"Christ, that's right, I never told you. It's Jill. My name is Jill."

Without thinking, Matthew put out his right hand.

"Good to meet you, Jill."

And up ...

Jill took hold of the proffered extremity.

... and d-o-w-n.

"Likewise, Mister Quinn," she said. "Ungggh!"

"Are you okay?" he asked anxiously.

"F-f-f-fine. Only ... that battering ram of a cock of yours gave the cervix quite a nudge there, Paul Bunyan. A little deeper and you'd be dislodging internal organs."

Matthew looked worried.

"Do you ... do you want to try a different position, ma'am ... ah ... Jill? Or ... whatever people do in a situation like this?"

And up ... and down ...

"Fuck, no! This is perfect. Depth control is my department. I just need to get used to the size of your meat."

She winked.

"For future reference," she added.

Future reference? Matthew thought. What did she mean by that?

"Am I ... am I ... uh ... unusual?" he queried.

"Oh, no, Mister Quinn," she sighed, once again on the downstroke. "You're way beyond unusual. You're exceptional."

Over the next few minutes, until she felt too high to keep talking, Jill sketched a brief outline of her life for Matthew's benefit, and he shyly told her a little about himself in return. The exchange was liberally punctuated by sounds of excitement and delight not normally heard in polite conversation.

And it helped, Matthew found. Now that she was no longer a complete stranger to him, he felt less self-conscious, more justified in participating, more permitted even to look at her incredible body.

There came a moment when Jill felt the need to devote her entire attention to the pleasure building within her.

"It's been nice chatting with you, Mister Quinn," she said, "but I'll have to ask you to excuse me now. Booty calls, if you'll forgive the expression."

She did not wait for a response, but laid her hands on his shoulders, closed her eyes, and began working her pelvis with stronger, more vigorous motions.

Left to his own devices, Matthew almost forgot about his own arousal and simply watched her in fascination. Soon, though, he had the creeping feeling that he should be contributing somehow.

In the end, he returned to familiar territory by reaching for her breasts. After a little indecisive cupping and stroking, he dared once more to nip hard at her nipples.

The tactic proved effective. She gave a startled whinny, bit her lip, and redoubled the pace of her pumping hips.

Matthew became aware that something was intensifying inside her. Unmistakably, she was building toward a crescendo.

Her movements became so wild and uninhibited, her face suffused with such passion, she seemed to Matthew like some jungle denizen that knew nothing of civilised behaviour, only the most primitive animal drives.

So enchanted was he by his first up close and personal view of a rutting woman, Matthew took little note of his own sensations, but watched in awe as her climax came upon her, flooding her with such intense pleasure that her body simply could not contain it, and she had no choice but to part her lips and release cry after fervent cry of extreme ecstasy.

So this was the mysterious female orgasm, Matthew thought. It was an astonishing phenomenon to witness. Were all women this uninhibited during climax? Was she feeling pure pleasure, or was there pain as well? Her expression seemed to reflect both.

Whichever the case, she didn't seem at all inclined to stop. In fact, her orgasm continued so long, Matthew began to have the surreal impression that the two of them were caught in a time loop.

Yet at last there came a moment when Jill had wrung out every last drop of pleasure her body could generate, and came to a halt, swaying drunkenly and panting like a hound.

Automatically, Matthew raised his knees to support her, and she closed her eyes and leaned back against his thighs. As her body calmed, her face settled into a smiling expression of profound, peaceful bliss.

The thought occurred to him: She's in heaven.

Even though his own contribution had been minimal, Matthew felt a certain sense of pride and accomplishment in the idea.

Jill remained atop her spiritual mountain peak for a long time before she returned to her senses, opened her eyes, and smiled down upon him like a beneficent angel descending from paradise.

"Mister Quinn," she said softly. "That was ... incredibly ... fucking ... awesome."

Matthew blushed self-consciously.

"Uh ... my pleasure, ma'am ... uh, Jill. Uh ... are you feeling ... better? I mean ... not so ... uh ... desperate?"

"I'm doing fine, thank you very much. Don't know if I've ever popped that hard before. Orgasm like a goddamn freight train pile-up."

She shook her head in disbelief.

"You and your superpower really put me through the wringer back there, Mister Quinn. I thought my brain was going to start leaking out of my ears. Lucky I was able to fuck it out of my system ... temporarily, at least. Interesting way of breaking the ice, though, I have to admit."

She laughed out of pure joy.

"You know, Mister Quinn, after that roller coaster ride, I might just decide to keep you."

You might not have any choice in the matter, Matthew thought heavily, but did not speak.

Her gaze glided appreciatively down his torso, until she reached the area where their bodies were still conjoined. Her forehead wrinkled a little, and she squeezed Matthew's cock with the muscles of her pelvis.

"Poor boy," she said, sympathetically.

"You didn't come, did you?"

"Ah ... uh ..."

"And after my mama put in so much effort teaching me to think of others," she scolded herself. "It just isn't polite."

"Don't you worry, Mister Quinn," she said. "We'll fix you up in a jiffy."

Placing her hands on his shoulders, Jill lifted her hips a little, then began to move in such a way that Matthew felt a particularly sensitive area being stimulated.

Her technique was so effective that it was like being taken unawares by a flash flood. In just a matter of moments, Matthew felt his climax approaching.

Jill, smiling at him as she worked her pelvis, seemed to detect it, too. A look of concentration came over her face, and Matthew soon saw that her own arousal was intensifying once more.

As the incoming wave of Matthew's orgasm approached landfall, Jill leaned far down, so that her breasts splayed out across his chest, laid her cheek against his, and began whispering passionate obscenities into his ear, all without interrupting the work going on lower down. Perversely, this only served to excite Matthew even further.

A moment later, Matthew's climax broke upon him, and the sensations were so exquisite, it seemed to him that his guts were liquifying. At the same instant, Jill began to cry out again, and he knew that she was peaking for the second time.

Through some sorcery, she had managed the two approaching orgasms so that they occurred together, and it was this most intimate sharing that truly took Matthew's pleasure beyond the physical, cracking open his heart and flooding it with warm and blissful feelings, all directed toward his lovely partner.

Even after their two bodies had calmed, Matthew delighted in their closeness, content to lie there and revel in the feeling of simply being with her.

A long while later, Jill spoke.

"I think I'm going to have to rephrase what I said before," she said softly. "I don't think I'm going to be able to let you go, Mister Quinn. I think I might already be addicted."

Whether she meant this literally or not, it was a serious matter to Matthew. He began to worry again.

"Ma'am," he said quietly. "That's what I've been afraid of from the start. I wish I knew what to do about it."

Jill sat up and gave him an amused smile.

"Such a solemn fellow you are, Mister Quinn," she said. "There's no need to be."

Matthew gave her a surprised look.

"Doesn't it concern you?" he asked. "Being ... well, being enslaved, to put it bluntly?"

"If that's the way it's going to be, Mister Quinn," she said, "we'll just have to accept it, and work with it, at least for the moment. Or did you think you could somehow worry up a solution?"

"Uh ... no, ma'am."

"But that's what you were going to do, isn't it? Worry yourself to distraction? Be honest."

"I guess you're right."

"You know I'm right."

To this Matthew found nothing to say, though he found her apparent equanimity astonishing. Her reaction was the last thing he had expected. Could it be that he had been too pessimistic from the start?

There was silence for a time.

"By the way," Jill said at last, "have you decided what you're going to call your other new playmate?"

Matthew looked at her questioningly.

"You know," she said. "Little miss body-snatcher."

"You know about that ... uh ... about her?" Matthew said.

She smiled.

"Of course. Kinda hard to miss being back seat in your own body. Little hijacker took the wheel when I wasn't looking."

"You're not ... uh ... upset?"

"What did I just say about accepting things the way they are?"

"Uh ... yes, ma'am."

"Why not call her 'Lily'?" Jill suggested.

"Lily?"

"Sure. Means 'innocent', according to some."

"Well ... uh ... yeah. Why not?"

Jill nodded. That was settled.

Suddenly, her gaze turned inward.

"Whoops," she said, "looks like she's woken up."

She looked thoughtful, then smiled down at Matthew.

"She's got something important to say to you, Mister Quinn," she said.

She leaned down and kissed him, then relaxed against him, laying her cheek on his shoulder.

She sighed and became so still that Matthew presently began to wonder whether she had fallen asleep. He was about to speak to her, when he became aware that she was weeping softly.

"You ... you're crying," he said. "What's wrong? I ... I didn't hurt you?"

"No, love," she said softly. "Nothing's wrong. Everything's wonderful. I'm just crying because I'm happy. I'm so happy that my first time was with you."

First time? Matthew thought in confusion. With that level of expertise? Ah, no, of course ... another personality swap had occurred. The other side of Jill ... uh ... Lily ... was back again.

At least it should be simple to tell them apart: their personalities were as different as those of ... of a lioness and her newborn cub.

Occupied with his own thoughts, Matthew almost missed her next utterance.

"I love you, Matthew," she murmured. "I love you so much, I can't even say."

Matthew became very still. He had already seen at breakfast how devoted she was to him. Hearing it put into words, however, made it far more real. She was baring her heart to him. How was he to respond?

Before he could think of an answer, she spoke again.

"Matthew?" she whispered.

"Yes, Lily? Ah ... do you mind if I call you 'Lily'?"

She kissed him.

"If it pleases you, love, then I am Lily," she said softly.

"You were going to ask something?" Matthew said.

"Do you think ...?" she said, then abruptly fell silent.

Matthew heard her swallow nervously.

"Do you think," she continued, "that we will be together forev... for a very long time?

Although he had no firsthand experience of the love between a man and a woman, the unspoken heart of her question did not escape Matthew. He knew intuitively that he could not take it lightly, that she was hoping for a promise ... a very great promise.

He would have to tread carefully. If he were to evade her question, or answer casually ... he shivered inwardly ... he truly didn't want to go down that road: he had already seen how emotionally defenceless she was before him. He had the power to wound her deeply.

I created her, he realised suddenly, then found himself following this unexpected thought. I didn't choose to do it, but I did it nonetheless. Without me, she wouldn't exist. I'm ... I'm actually her father ... and you don't bring a child into the world and then abandon them, or neglect them, or hurt them. No. You protect them, and take care of them. So, it's my duty to do that for her.

Matthew had always been content enough alone, and maybe he would have stayed that for the rest of his life. Now, however, it seemed that life itself had other plans. The question was, whether or not he chose to walk the path laid out for him.

If he refused it, what would be the consequences?

He already knew part of the answer: like her sister, Jill would be emotionally crippled. It didn't matter that he hadn't done it deliberately: the result would be the same either way.

And the consequences to him? Of course, he would have the freedom to live his life as he chose. But he knew his conscience would never rest easy. If he abandoned them, he knew he would torment himself daily, for the rest of his life.

On the other hand, if he answered as Lily clearly hoped, then he would be assuming a responsibility that would change his life fundamentally and forever, especially because he would also be taking on Jill, and all the challenges she would bring.

So, he knew he had to consider Jill's needs as well. How could he promise Lily a future together without knowing how Jill would feel about a long-term relationship?

But then, he realised, it was not only Lily who had brought up the subject of the future. Jill herself had spoken of being unable to let him go. At the time, he had been unsure how earnestly she had meant these words. Now, though, he wondered whether she had been giving him a broad hint.

Despite the seriousness of the matter, the thought of Jill made him smile. He had never known anyone like her before, so independent and fierce of heart. She was like a temperamental young mare that would never willingly accept any kind of harness. By comparison, he was like a patient draught horse. No wonder he found her so engaging, so intriguing. She had in abundance what he most lacked.

Matthew tried to turn his mind toward the positives. Up to now, his life had been ... well, monkish. Bringing Jill into it would certainly put an end to that. But, maybe that would be good for him.

And maybe he would be good for Jill, too. Maybe he could be her protector. He had already seen how her impulsive behaviour could get her into trouble. If he hadn't found her in the snow, she would almost certainly have died. He was surprised how deeply that thought hurt him.

Matthew reviewed his line of thinking. It seemed to hold up under scrutiny, as far as it went. The problem was, none of it added up to love. It was simply too soon to expect himself to be in love with them ... either of them. And without love, their relationship would be harder ... a very great deal harder.