"You found your mother?"
"Yep. She's 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 did 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."
"I think she wanted to fuck me herself. She'd just gotten a new red strap-on through the Internet."
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 maps it was just referred to as Beat Falls.
Right where the water hit was a pool, deep enough to jump in from some height. High school kids on such a day often walked the five miles from the road through the National Forest and spent the afternoon drinking, horsing around and jumping off a ledge, fifteen feet above the water. A warning sign had been put up after one kid had hit her head on a rock on the way down and spent the rest of her life in bed unable to move. They 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 sitting beside her was huge. Twice as broad as she and, if they'd been standing, a third taller, her head would hardly reach 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 the 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 them lay between their sister's thighs, tan upon pale.
The youngest looked to be no more than 20, but she'd been taking her first steps 150 years before 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 blackfies, midges and mosquitoes.
With a shriek the two 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, Sylvia" 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, her hair wet about her face, her skin shining with water. He took her under the arms and tossed her laughing in the air. He caught her at the swell of her ass and she spread her legs around him. She reached one hand between her thighs 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, from even from before that long ago day when she'd helped him win his territory 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 peak out up through her wide open mouth. He held her hard down upon 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 back 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 Sylvia. 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, Beat Falls, where the water was so like ice that a sane person would only go in on such a day.
The first time they'd done this had been a summer 20 years before, his daughter'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, the summer after his wife'd left him. He hadn't been since and 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. The knapsack he carried that held their water and their wine and their lunch was hot on his back. 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 mid 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
.... There is more of this story ...