"You found your mother?"
"Yep. She's a hawk in a nest at the top of the dead oak down by the lake. She's fucking the gray hawk that nests there. She saw me. 'Tell your Dad,' she goes, 'That though my cock has no cock, still he's a better fuck than your Dad and his prize cock."
"She's still mad."
"She did catch us."
"What could she expect? I was a stag and you were the sweetest smelling doe in the herd. It was fall. It's never bothered her before."
"She wanted to fuck me herself. She'd just liberated a red strap-on from a car parked in the woods."
The girl was a small pert thing. She had a red bob of unruly hair and a round lightly freckled face with a dimpled chin. Her eyes were hazel and looked at the world with a skeptical consideration that could sometimes soften into considered amusement. She wore just a white blouse knotted over her stomach. The lips of her cunt were like an old man's lips, feebly peaking out through a sparse mustache and beard. Her skin was pale and flushed with the bloom of youth and the heat of the day. She looked to be no more than twenty though she was in fact much older than that.
She sat on a rock next to the man, one shapely leg under her, the other stretched so her heel lay on some soft cool moss and her toes were in a patch of sun. The day was very hot. Sweat started under her arms, on her forehead, and where her ass rested on the calf of her leg.
The rock edged a cool dark ravine. Water danced down the cliff opposite them sparkling in places where the sun shown through the trees. They called the place "BeatTheHeatOfASummerDay". On official maps the place was named Whatley's Falls after the settler who'd stumbled upon it.
Right where the water hit was a pool, deep enough to jump in from some height. On such a day high school kids often walked the five miles from the road through the National Forest and spent the afternoon drinking, horsing around and jumping off the ledge, fifteen feet above the water.
The forest service had put up a warning sign after one kid hit her head on a rock on the way down and spent the rest of her life in bed unable to move. Kids jumped as often as before.
The trail of packed earth passed by the rock and then made a steep descent into the ravine. Trail crews had worked the roots and rocks into rude steps.
The man who sat beside her was huge. Twice as broad as she and, if they'd been standing, a third taller, her eyes would hardly be level with his elbow. He would sometimes entertain her by holding his legs straight out over the water and she would make a diving board of them. Stepping carefully, her feet balanced first on his thighs then more precariously on his shins, her round bottom clinched tight from excited caution, she would inch along. When she stood on his ankles she'd jump as he kicked upwards and she'd cannonball into the pool.
His skin was tanned hard. His hair was jet black. His cheek bones looked so sharp she imagined her fingers in danger of being cut when she gripped his face in passion. His eyes were deep and black. You would not like to find them fixed on you if you were a rabbit and he'd taken the form of a fox.
He held a bunch of wild concord grapes. Their scent hung sweet and cloying in the hot humid air. He held the grapes out to the girl. She opened her lips, took a grape between them and carefully bit it off at the stem. She balanced the grape on her tongue. Its skin was just slightly wounded. She tasted its sweetness as well as its yeasty skin. The man bent his face to hers. When their lips were close her tongue pushed the grape into his maw. He bit it open and then pushed it back into her. She tasted him on it. She crushed it and swallowed.
He sat back and offered her another. She turned her face away. "I'm hot and I'm bored. I want some action. I want something to happen."
Below them, on a flat sandy rock by the pool, two young women lay in the sun. Two others stood on the ledge, hand in hand looking down at the pool. They resembled the man as much as pretty women could. They had black hair, tanned skin that knew no fear of the sun, and his sharp and on them lovely cheekbones. They could be merciless too. In winter they hunted as a pack and no deer or moose singled out by them ever escaped. They loved to admire the contrast when one of them lay between their red haired sister's thighs, tan upon pale.
The youngest of the black haired girls looked to be no more than 19 but she'd taken her first steps 150 years before. That was the time when logging companies had come and clear-cut the valleys and mountains. During the day, while the loggers had toiled, the family'd taken the form of blackflies, midges and mosquitoes.
With a shriek the two young women on the ledge jumped. There was a splash and a confused welter of tanned limbs and they came up spluttering with laughter, gasping at the cold. They swam to where the stream swirled over a flat shelf and began its gleaming race through the ravine. They stood with the water rippling about their ankles. Their crotches were black, droplets gleamed on their pubic hair. "Come down, Dawn" one called. "The water's lovely. It's real warm." The other laughed.
The man stood and strode down the path to the pool, taking the rude steps two at a time. He took one of the gleaming girls. He gripped her under the arms and tossed her laughing in the air. Her wet hair whipped about her face, her wet skin flashed in the sun.
He caught her at the swell of her ass and she spread her legs around him. She reached one hand between her thighs and down to his cock and steadied it. Her eyes widened with anticipation. When he lowered her onto it she gave a little gasp of surprised pain. No amount of hard usage could get one used to the size of him. Even their mother, during one of their these days rare trysts, gasped with hurt at his initial penetration - and she had been with him a thousand years, since that long ago day when she'd helped him win the land from its prior master, a day of blaze and blood.
Though it hardly seemed possible, the girl dropped or was pushed down so that her ass rested on his thighs, his length entirely in her. Her slim rudely spread legs reached up and around his back. Her hands gripped his shoulders. Her face with its wet mass of black hair pressed against his hard chest. She shifted and parted her lips and bit one of his nipples. He gripped her tightly under the arms, his thumbs against either breast. He began to rut hard, bouncing her up and down. She lifted her face to the sky and moaned and gaped.
He tensed and thrust up so hard one expected to see his cock peek out up through her wide open mouth. He held her down hard against his hips. She screamed and squirmed on him. After a moment he relaxed and lifted her up. His cock was still hard. It gleamed wet and dripping in a shaft of sun. He tossed her into the pool. She hit with a splash and then a loud cry from the cold.
"Asshole," she shouted.
He said, "I always throw back the ones too bony to eat." His voice was deep and rasping.
He returned up the path and sank back onto the rock by Dawn. She could smell the sunlit sweat and the sex on him. She looked down to where all four of the girls now lay tanning themselves in the sunny patch.
He held out the grapes to her again. She bit off another and crushed it and swallowed. His deep voice rumbled sadly, "You're my favorite, you are so like your mother."
"I'm still hot and bored," she said.
A voice from down the ravine, another of her sisters, called: "Someone's coming."
The man stood and stared down the trail. "Hikers," the voice called.
Sam and his daughter hiked up the trail. They'd been on it two hours. It'd crossed back and forth across the stream, through clearings where the sun baked and through the woods where the air steamed. They were close to their destination now, Whately Falls, where the water was so like ice that a sane person would only go in to beat the heat on such a summer's day.
The first time they'd done this had been a summer 20 years before, the girl'd been on his back. He'd had to pretend to be a horse and she some kind of warrior, whacking the trees with the sticky sword he'd given her. It'd stopped her crying and begging to get down and walk but had caused him to be bashed considerably about the ears, to his wife's amusement. They'd come a couple times every summer till 4 years ago. He hadn't come since wife'd left him. He'd not wanted to do it today but Eva'd insisted.
It was very hot. His shirt was plastered to the bulk of his chest. His knapsack was hot and sticky on his back and heavy as it held their water and their wine and their lunch. His feet in his hiking boots ached. He wished he'd been smart like his daughter and'd just worn flip flops. But then his feet weren't young and they'd've found other ways of killing him.
"Hey Dad, look!" his daughter called, pointing, "Deer!"
Ahead of them, where the trail dropped down to their destination, deer seemed to boil up out of the earth and bound with flag waving tails off through the trees. One, a huge stag with a tremendous rack of antlers (surely unusual for so early in the season, it was still but early August), paused, stared at them a moment, and then without hurry, vanished after its does.
They descended the steep bit and as he shrugged the knapsack off, Eva said, "I'm so hot. I've been thinking of that water for that last hour. I'm not waiting another second!". She rushed to the edge, kicked off her flip flops and stepped in where the pool was shallow. "Wow-a!" she exclaimed. She jumped forward in a shallow splashy dive. She came up with a whoop and swam to the far side. She dog paddled close to where the stream cascaded down. "It's great Dad!" she shouted
He sat at the edge, pulled his boots and socks off and put his feet in. "Jesus," he exclaimed. It looked to him like his feet'd instantly wrinkled into pale white prunes. After a moment the hurt went and his feet felt lovely. There was but a ring of pain where the surface tension clutched his calves.
"Coward," Eva called.
"If you freeze solid and sink I'll not rescue you."
She swam the 10 feet to where it grew shallow and stood up. She was a small slim girl, blond hair, blue eyes. Unlike her mother, she had small breasts. He could see them quite clearly through her wet t-shirt, just a pair of small peach halves. She generally did not wear a bra. Her waist was narrow, her stomach quite flat. She wore cut-off shorts which seemed almost unable to cling to her hips, threatening to slide off and down her cute legs.
She turned her back to him and looked up at the ledge. They'd come here once when kids were here, they'd watched the kids inch along the rock and then jump in with a terrific splash.
Eva was very attractive from behind. He looked away, ashamed of the rise of desire he felt.
"Don't even think about it," is what he said to her. She'd think he meant jumping from up there.
He remembered how one summer - Eva must've been in 8th grade? - he and his wife'd dozed after polishing off a bottle of wine with lunch. He'd opened his eyes to see Eva up there, looking down. He'd not known what to do. If he'd called she'd've jumped just to spite him, she'd been at that age. Right then she'd chickened out and'd worked her way back to where she could clamber down to the stream edge.
She turned back and looked at him. He figured was thinking of the same time. Probably regretting her cowardice. She looked a bit sad. She was really quite pretty.
In high school and he supposed college, boys had always been after her, trying to friend her on facebook, calling her on her cell, even calling the house landline in their sorry desperation.
Unfortunately for them, she had a goal. Her grandmother, his mother and her namesake, Evangeline, had been a vet and this'd caught her imagination. She'd done very little besides study once she'd hit high school. It'd driven her near a break-down in college. During organic chemistry she'd stopped eating and sleeping and had had to take a week off. She'd spent the week with her mother which'd pained him. He'd've taken the week off from work to look after her, though the project he'd been working on was behind.
Maybe now after the first year of vet school, she'd relaxed a little. She'd called him and asked him to do the old hike. She'd laughed when he'd suggested she get her mother to go instead. "Mom never liked it," she'd told him.
"What?" he'd said in surprise.
"Oh Dad," she'd said with a sigh, "She hated the long walk in and she hated the bugs and she didn't like sitting around on the rocks and she hated the long walk back, you guys were always a little tipsy."
"That can't be true," he'd denied it again. He didn't have so many fond memories of his wife. Those picnics stood out amongst them.
"So this Wednesday? There won't be anyone else there. Take the day off." Eva'd said.
"Well," he'd said.
"I'll get to the house at 8 and we can go together."
It was her referring to his house as "the house" that'd defeated him. It was the house she'd grown up in, but she hadn't come back for more than the briefest moment since she'd gone to college. She'd wangled herself summer internships at various places and'd generally stayed with his ex-wife and his ex-wife's boyfriend during the gaps. Their condo was in the city.
"Let's eat the lunch," he said. He leaned back and grabbed the knapsack and pulled it next to him. Then he remembered his feet and not wanting them to fall off, he lifted them out of the water. He stretched his legs so his calves and his feet were in the sun. His feet felt really good.
She sat cross-legged on the ground near him. He handed her a towel he'd brought and she wrapped it around her shoulders with a shiver. She didn't touch the sandwich in its baggy that he set beside her. Instead she began piling up little rocks with an intent, dreamy, almost sad expression.
"You remember how on these picnics, we'd build little houses of sticks and moss and stones? You told me they were for the fairies. That if we didn't give them a nice place to live and give them a bit of our lunch, that they'd play nasty tricks on us?" Here she did take out her sandwich. She tore off a corner and laid it by what might've been the door to the rude little pile of pebbles she'd constructed.
Sam remembered and it made him sad. He'd done the same with his dad, near 50 years before and then he'd played his Dad's part with his daughter and now those times were all gone.
"Mostly I did it to keep you from pestering your mother while she took a nap," he said.
He took a sip of wine, he'd filled one of the water bottles with a chablis. He handed it to her.
"How's your mother doing?" he asked.
"Good," Eva answered, "They just came back from a cruise along the Norwegian fjords. I think she liked it better than she liked Alaska, you know they went to Alaska last year?"
"No," he said.
"Well they did." Then she asked, "How about you Dad, how are you doing?"
"Oh I'm fine," he said dismissively.
"Are you seeing anyone?"
"No, I've got no interest in that."
"It must be kinda lonely. The house all to yourself. The cat died a year ago?"
"I'm fine. I see people at work. And then at home I can work. That's the great thing about the 21st century. We're behind on the project" (his daughter snorted at that) "so I get up, drive to work, work on it in the office and then come home and work on it after eating something. I'm fine."
"It sounds kinda lonely."
"You're a fine one to talk. How about you? Are you seeing anyone?"
"Oh Dad, you'll start sounding like Mom in a minute. You know me. I'll get to all that when I'm out of school and am working."
"Jesus," he said sadly.
"I realized in high school that I was just not smart enough," she said. She shifted her slight form around and lay back so that she stretched out in the sun. "Unless I did nothing but study, I wasn't going to make it."
She yawned, "That wine's made me a bit groggy."
"It's so rude of them to drive us away on such a hot day," the red haired Dawn complained. "And fairy houses! Ha! Catch me in that leaky little thing!"
Dawn and her hard tanned father lay on their stomachs on the rock overlooking the ravine. The man looked over at his daughter. Her face just peeked over the rock's edge. He had a fine view of her backside, her delicate spine just visible where her blouse pressed against it. Then on down to the bare small of her back and then her pillowy bottom. His cock rose.
"Are you up for some fun?" his voice was so soft and deep as to be all but inaudible.
The girl turned her head and looked down his chest to his cock. "They'd hear. You know me, I'm not quiet."
"I meant have some fun with those people and also give your mother something real to be mad about." He bent his head, bit her ear and whispered something while idly caressing her between her legs. Where his wrist rested on her rump, her skin flushed slick with sweat.
Her eyes widened. "Nasty fun," she whispered, "Very nasty." She slid back along the rock till her little upturned nose touched his cock. She opened her mouth wide and took it in. As always it made her jaw ache. After but a moment she let it go and sat up.
He grimaced. She bent back and kissed his cock and murmured soothingly to it, "Don't worry big guy, you won't have long to wait. You never do."
She vanished. Where she'd been, a green headed horsefly hovered. Half an inch long, its body shimmered a metallic black. It dove at her father, buzzed playfully about his head then dropped between his treelike thighs. It landed at the base of his cock, ran up its length and back to his balls once for fun, then bit him hard through the wrinkled skin of his scrotum.
He grimaced at the pain. With a lightening clutch of his hand he caught the glittering insect as it rose in the air.
"Remember," he whispered, "When you bite the little thing down there, you drink a drop of her blood. The power from me will lift her soul out. When you bite your mother, you do the same. Then you bite a second time and spit into your mother that young woman's essence. Last, you return here to finish the job.
"The critical thing, daughter, is not to let your mother mix with that girl in the brief moment you hold them both."
There came a buzzing from the fly trapped in his hand.
"Yes," he agreed, "That is right, I added a spice to the seed you drank from me and they will desire with all their soul the creature they first see when they open their eyes.
The buzzing from the fly was desperate with eagerness.
"The power of my charms should last until the sun rises tomorrow. So do your job well, daughter, and we will have a day and night of fun."
He opened his huge hand. The horsefly rose, circled up into the air and plummeted like a tiny hawk into the ravine. It dropped to where the girl, Eva, lay sunning herself in her wet shorts and t-shirt. It landed on a thigh. She jerked and slapped, but it'd scurried into the narrow gap between her shorts and her smooth skin. Quickly it crawled up, enjoying the dark moist scent.
It bit her once through her panties. It must've hurt like hell. Eva cried out and slapped desperately at her crotch but the fly was gone.
Eva's eyes widened. She grunted an inarticulate inhuman sound, looked at her father with animal terror and collapsed mindless on the sand.
The fly rose out of the ravine. Once in the trees it became a jay and flew quickly through the woods carrying in its beak its little burden of blood and soul. It rose over a ridge and then down the steep hillside to the edge of a long lake. A couple sailboats idled on the still water, mirrored perfectly. A jet ski whined loudly along the far bank, making much better time.