Pussy-Licker: Cunt-Lick County

'Where are we going?' I manage at length.

She pauses. I look into her dark eyes, all the ways into her ancient soul. 'My grandfather. He'll help you.' I glance around, and see only trees.

'Won't you get into trouble for releasing me?'

'No. They've had their sport with you. They no longer care.'

I shrug. I've got no other plans. Nowhere else to go. I begin talking, for no reason, about Manhattan and Mrs Robinowitz, about thumb-tripping down the mid-west. She smiles back. We climb higher. The forest is more dense here, the rise steeper and more uneven, but moon-whiteness freezes everything to haunted clarity.

Then there's a glow ahead. I'm warily spooked that it's a UFO, that this whole set-up is some extraterrestrial experiment. But no. An old tribal shaman sits beside a blazing log-fire, smoking a fat spliff. He rises as we approach, and White Dove embraces him. This ancient man in faded jeans, wampum beads and medicine man's bison-horned war-bonnet, is her grandfather. I hang back, but he beckons me forward. We sit beside the fire and he offers me the smoke, as in a peace-pipe bonding-ritual. His face as lined as an old leather pouch. Suitably relaxed, we talk.

'This was once all tribal land, from horizon to horizon, as far as the wind blows' he orates softly. 'Three-hundred years ago the white man came, raping, killing, taking all and leaving nothing. We who sense the ways of the earth beneath our feet, the sky above us, the water that seals earth to sky. So we teach them the meaning of submission. We use Manitou-juju to create these realms, which we watch over and keep secure. You must have wandered in through a porous temporary access-loop. As White Dove says, you don't belong here. So you'll be shown a way you can leave.'

I glance across at her. The way she smiles back sets my pulse racing.

The flames leap higher, birds of fire racing into the night-sky, sparks of ecstasy fizz and glow in its intoxicating haze. Incandescent molecules ripping comet-trails through my brain. It's as though he's always been sitting here, carved from the seamed wood of the very trees around us, eroded from the stone, part of the land. The hint of a wry smile playing at the corner of his mouth. Until, bidding farewell to her grandfather, she leads me higher, I glance back just once. He's already becoming indistinct. There's a fork in the rock ahead, between towering buttresses. It becomes obvious that this is where we're headed. It narrows to a passage between cliffs of sheer stone. On the far side there's a steep fall down.

Between primeval clefts of stone, riven by stratum laid down by the wash of primordial seas, with fossilised creatures suspended in eternity, there's a mossy carpet. In a single movement she drops her dress, and reclines back naked. I follow her down, fumbling my pants off, fondling and kissing her small breasts, luxuriantly smooth and firm, sucking the nipples into hard peaks. Licking my way down over her stomach towards her groin... she softly arrests me. 'No, not that way. I want your cock inside me.'

Moving over her. Dripping cock-head nuzzling pussy-moistness, nudging the tight cunt-mouth, her thighs lift to receive me, whimpering and gasping, the smell of sex closing in around me, cock a well-lubricated piston sinking into slimy-slick hot honey. A floating timelessness, deaf, oblivious to everything but her, twining around each other. Stars roar and pulse above us. Raw wind ripples the trees like fingers. Fucking with a ravenous hunger, tingling in every nerve. The sharp sting of her fingernails digging the skin of my heaving bare ass, gouging, drawing me deeper. Breathing together, her breath coming in desperate sobs. Losing gravity, twisting and rocking with every lunge. Weightless. Bodies locked into each other, fused into a single throbbing organism. Fuck-writhing with near-painful building urges, welling stabs of blossoming pleasure. Our seismic cum rocks the world on its axis, convulsing warm ecstasy into her, filling her, liquid waves of lust until every drop is gone. Body-fluids running together. Better than it's ever been.

In the lull, there's nothing but breath. My body still buried in hers. Warmth shimmering around us. Eyes burning into hers. I ask 'Will you come with me?'

She lowers her eyes, turns away. 'What you ask is impossible. Here, we are protected. I can never leave.' Her face flushed, her eyes very bright, her breathing still fast.

'I don't understand.'

'My grandfather created this place. We've been together here ever since, for three-hundred years. If I leave, I revert to my true age.'

The shock hits me like a physical blow. Pulling away in a storm of drunk-stumbling confusion. I stagger, pants tangled around my ankle. The air suddenly a cool and real contrast to the flooding warmth inside me. A half-world of night fantasy and deceptive moonlight. I'm dangerously near the cliff-edge. She moves closer, hand outstretched in appeal. But the ground beneath me crumbles. I lose my footing, overbalance - she's reaching her arm out to save me, but I've fallen too far, and plummet, end over end in a slithering rock-fall of shingle, whacking roots and outcrops all the way. The fall goes on for ever.

Coming to in a stunned haze, consciousness filters back gradually. Impossible to know how long I've been out, moments, or hours. Cuts, bruises and minor abrasions, but nothing broken. The morning grows warmer. Another sleepy dusty delta day, on another back-way. Slumped down in the shade by another roadside. Almost as though all that's happened has been some mad narcotic hallucination, brought on by too much sun frazzling brain-cells, inducing craziness. Only a feeling of fathomless loss and emptiness. Memories of her. And now, another patrol car. Wait. Watch its trail of billowing dust as it circles, fishtails in, slows to a stop. He slides out and saunters across towards me. A guy, so I've escaped, I'm outside the enchanted realm.

'What you doing boy?'

I smirk with relief. 'Not a lot Mr Officer sir, not a lot.'

He spits. 'We got laws agin vagrancy round here, boy.' I can't believe what I'm seeing. He unfastens his belt, slides the zip down, and hefts a sizeable erection from outta his pants. 'Open wide, boy. You're in Cock-Suck County now...'

BY TRISTAN TROTSKY