In The Woods Pt. 01

Judd took his shotgun and his favorite dog hunting this morning so I packed a peanut butter and jelly sandwich into my backpack with a big glass of mango sun tea and headed north to the river. I know I can't go farther. Know he'd use that same dog to hunt me down if I tried.

Cool, calm water flowed. The river bends through thickets of wood and water falling into hollows. I dipped my hands in. Letting the cold wake me up.

I peeled away the layers. Judd's baggy t-shirt, too ripped up to mend, I'd slipped it on that morning after he was done rutting between my legs. It was sick how much I found his smell comforting. I peeled off my blue jeans and the white cotton panties. Kicked off my boots and wiggled out of my socks. Then, I dove in and sank to the bottom where the soft mud and smooth stones touched my bare feet.

I floated, naked, underneath the hot sun. I did laps up and down the banks until I was tired enough to take a nap underneath a pine tree. Nature hadn't been something I made time for in my adult life, not until Judd, but when I was young my daddy would drag me to the lake for months at a time. Some of it was just second nature to me which was good because I had a lot of time to fill out here.

Judd and I met at the co-op. I'd gotten a job doing data entry and my pain in the rear end boss had made me work register while he took care of some pig feed business. All day long farmers had came in and refused to believe that I knew what I was talking about on the subject of feed, tires, gas, or even the chapstick we sold by the register. Then Judd came in.

Judd is gray headed with his hair in two long braids on either side of his head. Tall. Deep voice. Jeans and an old t-shirt are his only wardrobe unless it's winter and then he throws a flannel on top. I'd seen him come in before. Pulling up in his black chevy truck with his dogs in the back. He was anti-social. Barely spoke a word to anybody and gave off that "I know more than you" sort of vibe so we left him alone. That day was different. He came right up and asked me my name and I'd told him. Asked me where Jerry was. I told him. I didn't have a reason not to trust him. He bought a few things and headed out. I never expected him to be there when I closed. Guess that's why it was so easy to take me.

The sun lulled in the sky. A hot slow day. One could easily get drunk on the beauty of the deeply green woods. I never once even thought about asking Judd why he'd settled out here, all I had to do was look around.

After my morning swim, I'd dried off naked and picked fat blackberries from overgrown bushes and gathered them in the pocket of my backpack where their rich purple juice would dye the green fabric an inky black. Then, I headed back.

Venison thawed in the sink. Judd's truck wasn't back, a sight that always made me breathe a sigh of relief. Jodie, an elderly retired hunting dog, slept on the porch underneath a rocker. I scratched her head, those bloodshot eyes blinked up at me before she settled back down to snore away the afternoon.

A heap of venison, onions, and peppers were piled in my pan and cooking away when I heard the grumble of Judd's truck come through the trees. Jodie's deep barks met with Scar's. Their tails thumped like mad, happy to see one another. I winced as the truck door slammed.

The screen door opened and thwacked shut as I added tomato paste to the browned meat and the garlic.

"When you're done with that come on back to the bedroom." His voice was low, calm and deep. His hand rested on my hip as he whispered in my ear. Then, he was gone. I continued cooking. Always looking for a loop hole, I could join him for the forty minutes it took the chili to simmer, but that's not what he said. When it's done. That's what he said. So I sipped my afternoon coffee and flipped through a book, I was reading The Great Gatsby, and it took him about twenty minutes to come and find me. Naked. His chest and leg hair thick. He grabbed me around the waist and kissed my neck.

"What did I say?" He asked.

"You said when it was done. It's not done."

He growled. "Come on. I'm gonna be quick." His cock got the hardest after hunting. Something about the kill.

He walked me down the hall, his hand on my lower back and as soon as we were in the bedroom, all wooden with patchwork quilts thrown over the bed, he yanked my shirt off and pushed my jeans to the floor. My panties were left on as he pushed me onto my back. His fingers dragged the thin cotton down my thighs. Just enough for him to get access to what he wanted most. He pushed my legs up, his hands on the back of my knees until they were touching the bed on either side of me. "Such a pretty little cunt." I could never tell whether he was talking about just my pussy or all of me.

He leaned over me, his eyes locked between my legs and his jaw working until he spat on my cunt and used his hard cock to rub it between my cunt lips. He bumped my clit and I bit my lip to stay quiet. "You be good for me today, you hear me? I need this." He sank into me, warm and wet though no fault of my own, just nature, and began to rock me back and forth. The headboard thumped against the wall like a wagging tail.