The Cabin on The Blue Ch. 03

Rachel gave him one last lick, then sat back on her heels. "I want you," she declared, looking down at him. When John sat up, grabbing for her, she planted a strong palm in his chest, pushing him back down. He stared up at her as she moved to straddle him, his forehead creasing as he started to protest.

"Listen here, mister," she began in a dulcet whisper, taking his hand and running it under her top across her warm skin, "either you let me take a turn on top for once or you can have this party all by yourself." Rachel slipped his hand farther down, alerting him to her lack of clothing below the waist.

"Minx," John growled at her, gripping her hips.

She smirked at him. Rachel took his hard cock and began rubbing it around in her wetness. Impatient, she took a firm hold of his large, rigid member and moved forward.

"Whoa," John said, stiffening. "Not that I want to slow things down, but are you sure you're ready?"

She favored him with a dismissive eyeroll and began to guide the tip into her. Rachel coaxed him in deeper, moaning loudly as her hips rose and fell, and they locked eyes.

This position was a wonderful new experience.

His responses beneath her were invigorating as well - John's grip on her thighs and hips, the way he arched up to meet her, his passionate groans of pleasure, so different than his usual silence. Once she had taken about half of his length, Rachel eased into riding him with slow, careful motions.

John watched as she groaned, struggling ecstatically to make her way to his base. Her impatience to take it all already had him as hard as a rock; watching Rachel moan and whimper as she worked his pole into her tight, soaking wet center was dizzying.

When she finally reached his base, Rachel let out a moan, a sound caught between ecstacy and sobbing that made his cock throb. "Oh, John," she moaned loudly, before dissolving into an unintelligible stream of words and sounds as she moved back and forth. Entranced, John ran his hands over her body, pausing at his favorite, juiciest parts. He favored those areas with extra squeezes, also generously giving out licks and kisses when he could pull her close enough to do so. Rachel gasped and whimpered; his fingers were sending small fires racing through her body. Before long, he found his fingers locked on her hips, holding her lithe, petite figure in his grasp.

When John finally pushed himself up, meeting her with ready lips, he was beside himself. "On your back," John growled at her, his expression and tone fierce. He flipped their positions at once, giving her no time to protest. Rachel cried out as he pushed into her, filling her core in one deep, impetuous thrust. She clawed at his back and shoulders, leaving scratches as she lashed out, overtaken by thoughtless passion. He thrust into her and she whimpered, legs spasming around his sides. John growled, burying his head in the curve of her neck and shoulder as he drove into her over and over, sending them both to a feverish zenith.

Afterwards, they lay quietly for some time. Once they heard the others beginning to stir in the house, they rose, albeit reluctantly. Rachel watched John from the corner of her eye as she dressed. She paused as she tied up her shoes, then turned to speak to John, who had already begun to roll up the bedding.

"John," she began, just as he turned to her, poised to speak.

He waved. "You go first."

"Okay," Rachel started, running her hands through her hair while she attempted to prepare her words. She secured her long curls, aware of John's patient gaze as he waited - then found herself blurting out her mostly unedited thoughts.

"I really want for Verre and the others to come back with us. I know that you want to keep the cabin and everything hidden," she continued in a rush, "but I know that we can trust them, and I really think it would be better and safer for all of us in case of an emergency or if-"

"I agree," John replied, and she blinked in confusion as he spoke. "Most of their store is vegetables, and of course it's better to keep the chickens alive for the eggs, even if they're not laying that much right now. I thought it might be nice if they came and stayed for a day or so and we could feed them. We could even send them on their way with some extra supplies."

"Well...that's great!" Rachel pulled her sweater over her head, bemused. "What made you change your mind?"

"They're your friends," John shrugged, "so I've decided to trust them. If we're planning on working together, it would be rather silly not to. And by that same token, I want them healthy. Moving them to the new place will give them a cleaner, warmer shelter, more food, abundant water. These are the best things we have to keep ourselves strong. We'll give them a walkie talkie set, too. They can have their own channel, and we'll share a joint one for open communication."

She grinned up at him, then wriggled over to plant a kiss upon his lips. "That is very logical of you."

He didn't include the fact that he had changed his mind because she wanted it. John smiled to himself. He liked making Rachel happy.

When Rachel emerged from the tent, Verre was approaching from the direction of the outhouse. The statuesque woman stopped at the well, filling the two buckets that waited on its ledge. This morning she was wearing an oversized, hooded grey sweater - scavenged from the house, Rachel guessed - and faded black jeans tucked into her usual pair of worn, calf-high leather boots. Verre set the buckets on the wall of the old stone well, then pulled back the hood of her sweater and poured some water into her hands. She washed her hands and then her face before working some of the water through her hair, which was currently a mass of tight dark curls. Verre pulled a length of dark fuschia cloth from her pocket and wrapped it around her head, her dexterous fingers tucking in the ends while she used the reflective surface of the water as a mirror.

Verre paused once she caught sight of Rachel, waiting for her at the door with a smile. When they entered, Lenore was doing yoga. Her hair was still damp, and a pot of rice cooked over a low fire in the fireplace behind her.

"Wow," Rachel murmured, a slow smile spreading across her face. It was nice - calming and familiar. Morning yoga had been a part of the older woman's morning routine for as long as Rachel had known her. On the mornings that Lenore had cooked breakfast for their group, she could always be found in front their cookspace, 'warming up her muscles', as she called it.

The place looked entirely different than it had the night before; they had stripped it of everything other than the furniture. They had even taken the cushions from the couch. "Morning. We packed up everything inside but some food," Lenore informed her in greeting.

"So I see," Rachel nodded, walking around the small house and taking in the changes. "I thought I'd come in to help, but it doesn't look like you need any!"

The onions, herbs and other dried goods that had hung from the ceiling sat on the counter in a crate, packed for the journey. There was a straw-lined basket with a few eggs. A glass baking dish, covered with a clean square of faded red linen, rested beside it. It held the leftover fish on one side and freshly roasted sweet potatoes on the other. The potatoes had been sliced into medallions for convenience.

"We've been up for a long time," the older woman said, moving gracefully from one pose to another. "We saved the fish. There's enough for you and John too." She motioned with her chin towards the countertop. "There are a few other things we've been cooking up for the trip."

"That sounds delicious, thank you." Rachel brushed her hair from her face as she paused, considering her next words. "So...John and I thought you might like to come all the way to the cabin first? We'll be able to give you some staples for your larder to help get you set up. Then in a day or two we'll take you to the other house. If you want to?" Rachel raised her eyebrows, and Lenore and Verre nodded in appreciation.

"I know I'd like to see your place, get more familiar with the lay of the land." Lenore chuckled. "And of course we're hardly in a position to turn down food."

Gabriel came in, bearing two eggs from the coop. He marked them with a piece of wax pencil, then added them to the basket with the others. "Might as well boil up all of these," Verre said with reluctance. "They won't travel well otherwise. By the way, I'd be thrilled to have staples in a larder," she added. "Even if it was only a few days worth. And we'd be willing to work for it, of course."

"That chicken was really good," Gabe chimed in. "The smoky flavor, you know?"

"I'll make sure we include some smoked meat," Rachel told them. "He has a smokehouse that he makes great use of. Anyway, I talked to John and it'll be a decent mix of good, healthy basics - meat, fish, vegetables, grain and flour. There was talk of making up a list," she added with a smile.

"We have been living somewhat leanly," Lenore said, still moving through positions. "It'll be good not to have to ration everything so tightly. After everything...and since it's just us and Gabe, we haven't wanted to range too far from the house. But we haven't seen much in the way of sizeable game out here, and we've wondered if the river would change once the cold hit. We've been lucky, but I'd be lying if I said the thought of winter wasn't a real concern." Her voice shifted as she stood up. "Speaking of grain, John mentioned that there's a patch of amaranth not too far from there. If it's not too inconvenient, it'd be nice to see where it is so we can make our way back up here for harvesting or collecting seeds."

"It's been almost like living on the road again," Verre murmured to Rachel. "Food is all we ever talk about."

"We talk about food a lot too," Rachel confessed.

"It's hardly the same. You live for cooking." Verre laughed, then lowered her voice. "And you should hear the way John keeps talking about your food. You know, my grandmother always did swear that was the way to a man's heart."

Rachel rolled her eyes, snickering.

"We ate beaver," Gabe announced. After a pause, he added: "Verre shot it with an arrow while we were fishing."

"They're competition for fish," Verre replied to Rachel's look, shrugging.

Rachel grimaced. "Uh...they're not, actually."

"What?" Verre's head snapped up.

"Beavers are strict herbivores," Rachel said.

"I told you!" Gabe cackled.

"Oh, no." Verre clapped a hand over her mouth, aghast.

"It's not any different than deer or rabbit," Lenore scoffed, shaking her head. She turned to Rachel, her expression pragmatic. "It was a good size. We made a roast," she said, "and turned the tail into stew. Days worth of food."

"It's not bad, actually," Gabe said, "but I didn't care much for the tail. Even if it was considered a delicacy back in the olden days," he said, throwing his grandmother a pointed look.

"How do you do beaver?" Rachel inquired, her curiosity getting the best of her.

"Oh, Old Rob taught me ages ago," Gabe said. "After you skin it, you gotta take out the glands and-"

"Good morning," John called as he approached the front door. It was still ajar. "I thought that I could get breakfast started, if you have any other things to attend to."

Verre threw him a skeptical look.

"He's a good cook," Rachel whispered, elbowing her.

"I was thinking of making fried rice," John informed them, continuing as though he hadn't noticed the interruptions. He motioned towards the pot of rice. "I can add two, maybe three of the eggs, and boil the others for you for the trip, if you'd like. We'll contribute the rice and vegetables if you'll share the eggs."

Lenore shrugged. She didn't care either way. Verre considered for a moment, regarding him with narrowed eyes. "Deal," she replied, nodding. "Just, please - don't burn anything. I can handle anything except burned food."

Rachel tittered into her hand.

"John, I don't think anyone would mind if you made it into seafood fried rice. There's plenty of fish leftover," Lenore suggested. "And there's rice already cooked," she added, motioning towards the pot in the fireplace. "The more we eat, the less we have to transport. Besides, it's always nice to start a trip with a full belly."

"Sounds good to me," he replied, tossing the wooden spatula into the air and catching it.

"I guess I should load up the chickens now?" Gabriel questioned.

"Yeah, let's go. I'm going to water the horses," Verre replied. "Lenore, I'll get the last of the stuff from the garden while I'm out there, too." Verre glanced over at John and Rachel as Gabriel ran back out. "There's a bunch of almost ripe squash left," she explained. "We wanted to give them another night on the vine."

"I'll still take care of that. I'll have plenty of time, since John is going to handle breakfast." Lenore smiled.

"Alright," Verre replied. "The clothes should be dry. I'll grab them."

"It rained last night, you know," Rachel said. "Don't get your hopes up."

Verre shook a playful finger at her. "We put up a line inside of the barn."

"So this place," Lenore began, slowly rolling up into a standing position, "does it have a decent clothesline? I'd really like to have a big washtub, too." She laughed. "It's all about the little things, honestly."

"There's a clothesline," John replied. He was looking through the vegetables, sorting out what he wanted to use. "And a manual washing machine. The kind you operate with a foot pedal, you know? There's a wringer attachment too." He examined an onion.

Verre paused, in the middle of pulling on her coat. "Holy shit," she said, her eyes wide.

"Did you say....a washer?" Lenore stared at Rachel and John, happy amazement spreading across her tanned face. "Be still my heart."

Verre nodded, biting back a grin. "I feel like we're on a roll, so let me just ask - what about power?"

"The well has its own power, but it's not connected to the rest of the place. There's a little windmill for the house. Just enough for the lights, really."

"Nice. You've been holding back on us. What else??" Verre pursed her lips, looking at him with raised eyebrows.

John had started chopping carrots. He tilted his head to the side. "There's a cellar. Underground, of course. And a larder - with a thrawl."

"And there's really working indoor plumbing?" Verre did an excited little shimmy as she asked.

"And working indoor plumbing," John confirmed. "Cats," he added. "There's a small colony of them, living not too far from the house. I don't know where they nest, but I see them out and about. They've been keeping the rodent and bird population in check, which is great for the garden. There's a nice little porch too. There's a rocker out there too, but I'm not sure if it's in usable condition.. I'll think it over and see if I can't remember any other interesting details."

"Much appreciated. I love details." Verre threw him a small, reluctant smile as she opened the door for Lenore. Rachel shook her head. Verre had always been slow to trust, but John was making remarkable progress at winning her over. Much better than I'd expected, Rachel thought.

"No pressure," Lenore called back. "It would be nice to adopt a kitten," they heard the older woman say as the door closed behind them.

Rachel watched John for a few moments as he worked on breakfast, his brow furrowed in concentration. There was something enticing about his focus on even the most minute things. She sidled up alongside him. "Kiss me," she demanded. "I'm going to go help them." John frowned, confused, and she grabbed his shirt impatiently, raising onto her toes to reach him. He dropped the paring knife onto the counter, wanting both hands free to roam across her figure while they kissed. Rachel arched into him with an almost imperceptible moan when he wrapped his hands around her hips and rear.

He worked one hand up underneath her shirts. "You'd better get out of here," John breathed, rubbing her nipple through the thin material of her bra, "before I wind up fucking you right here."

"Mmm hmm," she replied before slowly pulling herself away from him. Rachel sighed with regret, then blew him a kiss before dashing out the front door.

A short while later, Verre and Rachel reentered the small abode, chatting. Verre paused, sniffing the air.

"Wow," she said, "That...actually smells appetizing!"

"Thanks," he said dryly.

"John," Rachel began, "we could really use your help with some things."

"We could manage, but it would be a lot faster with your help. Please. I'm sure Rachel can handle the cooking," Verre added.

John nodded, stirring a few drops of oil into the mixture in the skillet. "I'm happy to help. Just point me where you need me." He handed Rachel the wooden spatula and gave her hip a subtle squeeze as she took over at the stove.

When the others returned, they washed up at the sink before moving back to the warmth of the fire. Rachel could feel John watching her while she checked the pot of boiling eggs. From the corner of her eye, Rachel saw him standing to the side.

"What are you thinking about?" She asked, glancing over at him.

"Blackberry compote."

Her brow knitted. "Really?"

"Really," he returned, giving her a solemn nod. John leaned forward to whisper into her ear. "I was thinking about taking a freshly made batch, spreading a layer of it across your body, and cleaning it off with my mouth."

Rachel's jaw dropped. "Oh. I wasn't expecting that." She cleared her throat. "You should make yourself useful. I'll need the cold water for the eggs soon."

He winked at her before sauntering off to collect the requested water.

They all ate quickly, eager to get on the road. Gabriel was especially enthusiastic over the combination of scrambled eggs, rice and vegetables, and Lenore waxed over how filling it was. "Haven't had rice in ages," she remarked, brushing her hair back from her face, "and now twice in as many days."

"Grains travel very well," John replied with a modest smile.

"There's plenty more where that came from," Rachel said, perking up. "It grows all up and down the Blue - and some other waterways in the area, from what I hear." She looked at John, who nodded in agreement.

"I've got a decent amount of food put away, enough to share. Working as a team, we'll be able to plant and collect even more next season."

The others nodded, pleased with the idea.

"And, if you're up for it, we could use help with some current projects. Some harvesting, and maybe some planting too, not too far from the cabin. There are some things that need picking before they either rot on the vine or get devoured by the local animals. You can keep whatever you pick, if you're interested."

"Well, of course we'll help," Verre said in a rare show of acquiescence. "That's a no-brainer."

"I- I am so glad we found you," Rachel replied, suddenly misty-eyed. Lenore reached over, giving the younger woman's arm an affectionate squeeze.

"Me too," Gabriel piped up, scraping the last of his breakfast into his mouth. "It's nice to have other people around again."

"We'll get a lot more mustard seeds," John added suddenly, thoughtful. "Those little suckers are a real pain in the ass," he explained to the others.

Rachel smiled at him fondly.

After breakfast, Verre and Rachel washed up the last of the dishes and cookware, wrapping them up for the ride along with the remaining food, while the others went to work on hitching up the horses and wagon.

"That's the last of it," Verre said as she checked the ropes on two baskets of produce, gesturing for Gabriel to shift over for her. She climbed up into the back of the wagon beside him. "I guess we're ready." She shook her head. "I really wasn't expecting to feel wistful about leaving this place," she admitted to Rachel in a quiet voice.