Absence of Living Carter Davis Book One - Cover

Absence of Living Carter Davis Book One

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Prologue

Fiction Sex Story: Prologue - 17 years into a life sentence for a double murder he did not commit, 35-year-old Carter Davis finds himself released with a full pardon and paid handsomely for his wrongful conviction. He buys some land and a truck and tries to get as far away from society as he can. His only friend, a 230-pound long-haired Mastiff named Travis.

Caution: This Fiction Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa   Blackmail   Consensual   Drunk/Drugged   Rape   Gay   Fiction   Crime   Rags To Riches   Cheating   Torture   Polygamy/Polyamory   Massage   Oral Sex   Voyeurism   Nudism   Revenge   Violence  

A Summer storm raged outside the thin fabric walls of my tent as I lay bundled within my arctic-rated sleeping bag, listening to the thunder and wind as it shrieked through the canyon around me. Lightning occasionally lit up the night turning the darkness into an eerie screenshot on the walls around me. The tent shook occasionally from the gusts, but overall, it was protected by the sturdy plywood shelter that I had constructed for just this purpose. The heavy rain fell loudly upon the rigid tin roof above—loud enough to make sleep seem impossible. It was the kind of night best enjoyed from indoors, next to a warm hearth with a drink in hand.

I had no hearth or drink, but I was warm enough, between the insulated bag and the thickly coated behemoth pressed against me, snoring heavily and completely oblivious to the show of Nature around us. I tried to nudge Travis over to give myself more space but was met with a deep grumble that emanated from somewhere in his massive torso. With a resigned sigh I settled for turning over to spoon the mutt and rough up his monster head. I was rewarded with another softer grumble.

That was my current situation: alone, in the middle of nowhere, sheltering in a small two-man tent with a tempest raging outside, displaying Mother Nature’s darker side to its fullest. And I could not have been happier. This was freedom and it was all mine. Sleep came easier than I expected.

The storm had blown itself out by morning but a light cold rain persisted through the early morning mist. The fog was heavier up higher in that it obscured my view of the higher cliff faces. The clearing where I had constructed my temporary shelter was rugged, to say the least. It was backed up against the east wall of my little canyon and strewn with rocks and boulders that had fallen from time to time. I looked up from my small fire and once again breathed in the cool clean air. My little clearing was barely accessible by an old Forest Service Road that ran the length of the ravine. That would all change in the near future. I was going to turn this into my personal Fortress of Solitude.

Why do I keep referring to it as mine? Because I owned it lock, stock, and boulders. All 635 acres of Copper Creek Canyon and forest preserve. I bought the land, mineral rights, logging rights, and water rights. All for the princely sum of $471,805—or just under $750 an acre. And I paid cash, which was just over a quarter of my settlement for wrongful incarceration. How did I score such a deal? Well ... that was part of a different settlement.

I squatted before a small campfire ringed with rocks gathered from nearby. A cast iron skillet sat over a bank of coals, heating up as I prepared to cook a hearty breakfast of eggs, sausage, and potatoes (left over from dinner and still warm from the ashes they lay in overnight. Travis appeared as I was dicing up the potatoes. He’d wandered off as soon as I opened the tent, exploring and marking the area until his fist-sized nose detected the fruits of my labor. He was a 4-year-old long-haired English Mastiff. His fur was medium brown with deep red undertones and he weighed in at 230 pounds. Despite his imposing size, he had a gentle temperament. He was slow to ire but very quick to express it. We were a lot alike in that respect. Without so much as a greeting, he plopped himself onto the ground nearby and began worrying something hidden within the folds of his jowls. I thought nothing of it until I caught the briefest glimpse of brightly colored fabric.

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