Chapter 9

She was wild, that night. Sometimes she was slow and soft and gentle and tame and some nights she was wild. This was one of those nights. They had barely started kissing when she grabbed him by the hair and dragged his head down to her pussy. He got the message, and sucked her fabulous fat clit into his mouth, sucking it until it became a hard little stub. She moaned and groaned and even squealed a time or two and he laughed softly to himself. He upended her, and stuck his tongue into her wonderful asshole. God, he loved her ass, he loved the taste of her and the smell of her ... he loved her holographically, every little bit of his love had the whole image, the whole picture inside it, the whole love.

He knew love was a mental thing, that it could never be measured or cataloged, but he knew that his love for her was off the charts, way off the scale. He had always thought that obsession came after love, but he realized that what he felt for her was way more than even obsession. He tried to think of a new word to describe what he felt for her, but everything he thought up was too ridiculous to say out loud, so he gave up. He thought, simply, I love you. How weak, how quick, how puny that is. I love you. That sentence should be a thousand words long, and long words, too, not simple three and four letter ones. He forgot all that, usually, and whispered in her ear, I love you, I love you. I love you.

He could feel her cute little asshole puckering under his tongue. He could taste the harsh, bitter, slightly shitty taste of her ass. He loved it. He loved everything about her, especially her ass. Her pussy was a close second. Tits were three. Anyway, he loved her ass. He remembered the first time he’d seen her ass, when she lay, unconscious before him on his couch. The poor girl had been reduced to using leaves to wipe herself with. Her ass had been a stinky, brown-streaked mess. A sexy mess. I know, I know, he thought, I’m a perv. But I loved that shit. I loved cleaning up that shit. I love her, and I love her shit. I admit it. He’d never actually admit it, other than to himself, though. He had certainly not admitted it to her. He didn’t want her to think he was a weirdo. He curled his tongue into a tube shape, and drove it deep into her anus. She has to know I’m a little strange, though, he thought, if I’ll do that. She wiggled and squirmed beneath him, and he sawed his finger in and out of her cunt, feeling her body twitch and writhe. He loved her. He loved the strong smell of her ass in his nose. He loved the taste of her slightly shitty sphincter on his tongue. He loved the feeling of her hard ass cheek in his left hand, and the feeling of her soft wet slippery cunt on his right index finger. He loved the whole her. He loved every atom of her being, ever cell of her body.

She grabbed his dick, and yanked it unmercifully as she crawled down his body. She took him into her mouth, growling. He relaxed, and tried to keep from cumming as hard as he could. Jeezus. She was very skillful, for someone self-taught, he thought. Then again, it’s not rocket surgery. Even a crappy blow job feels pretty good. Hers were not crappy, though. They were fine, and elegant. To the point. Serious, and funny. He loved her tongue. He loved to feel it on his tongue, and on his dick. She had a fine tongue, a talented tongue. A young, firm, talented tongue. He sighed, and melted, trying to keep control of his balls. He was ready to cum. He knew he would still be expected to fuck the shit out of her, here in a few minutes. It’s just the way she operated. Licky, licky, fucky. He knew the routine, by now. He knew the way she worked and he was a real believer.

The next trauma seemed to waste no time being upon them. One day they were fairly far afield, hunting squirrels and rabbits for the dogs, just killing time, really. Girl saw the man first, and touched Clipper on the arm. She was already hunkering down, holding Bear so he didn’t give them away. They hid, and watched as the man approached from a tangent, headed off up the mountain from them. Bear, of course, had to growl, but he growled softly, low enough that the man couldn’t hear it. Clipper had recognized him immediately, it was Mr. Simmons, from the big house. Mr. Simmons, my landlord, he thought. Shit. Might as well get this over with. He looked at Girl, and nodded. They stood, he and shouted “Hallooo!”

Mr. Simmons was very cool. He stopped, froze, and then turned. He was less than a hundred feet away. He was armed, but Clipper wasn’t afraid of him. They closed, and finally stood together, shaking hands. Bear gave him a sniff, and then went off guard duty.

“Clipper, is it?” Mr. Simmons said. Clipper nodded.

“Mr. Simmons, sir,” he wasn’t sure if this was a mistake or not, but he felt like it had to be done. And the sooner the better.

“Mr. Simmons, I have a confession to make. I understand you own the old Kymes place, right northwest of Devonsville.”

The man nodded. “It’s on my tract, yes.”

“Well, we are living there, at the moment. I didn’t know anyone owned it. I thought it was up for grabs. I used to hunt and fish out of there, years ago...”

“I see,” said Mr. Simmons. “Yes, the other day Dean told me that it looked like someone was living there ... well, that is a problem...”

“I would be glad to reimburse you, somehow, if you could see letting us stay there. Whether in labor or meat ... I can give you eggs, even ... or if you could come up with a number, I do have some income...” Shit, not much, though, he thought. He was already making plans in his head to build his own cabin, somewhere on up the mountain, On public land. If this guy throws us out, he thought.

“Well, let me talk that over with my tax guy.” Mr. Simmons said, jarring Clipper’s mind. Tax guy? People around here still paid taxes? Jeezus. “I had thought that someday maybe my son might move in there. It is a nice place.”

“Yes, sir. I understand. Just let me know.” Shit, shit.

“There are other ... services that I occasionally require.” Mr. Simmons looked squarely at Girl. “My daughter is just turning three. We sometimes require a sitter for her, a nanny, call it what you will. You, young lady, would be just perfect for that.”

Girl nodded somberly, her eyes never leaving the man. Clipper felt left out, he could easily tell where the focus had shifted to.

“Well,” he finally said. “Just let us know. I wanted to be square with you, once I found out you owned the place.”

“Yes, I appreciate it.” said Mr. Simmons, still staring at Girl. “I’ll let you know. I know where you live now.”

Shit, thought Clipper. You do that. You do that. They said their goodbyes, and the man turned and headed away. Clipper and Girl headed down the mountain. Scarcely three hundred yards had passed when Girl said, “The fuck I will.”

Clipper stopped and turned and regarded her with bemusement. He’d never even heard her say gosh or golly before, much less fuck. He was scandalized, but he had to admit, he was kind of turned on, too. He liked it when girls talked dirty.

“You, young lady, have a potty mouth.” he said, laughing, and grabbed her by the shoulder, leaning her down over his knee and kissing her. He pulled her back up, and hugged her to his body.

“I will never go to that house. Ever.” she said.

“I will never ask you too. Ever.” he said. She nodded.

“Thank you.”

They trudged on home, and had ham and eggs for dinner. He said something about Sam I am and green eggs and ham, and she just stared at him blankly. What we have lost, he thought, feeling a great sadness. What we have lost.

The Skipps problem affected them instantly. Within a few days, the woods were full of people. Just like Ableard had said, hungry, angry, worried people. People that didn’t know how to live off the land. People that needed help.

The dogs, at least, let them know when anyone approached the cabin. Even if someone was simply in sight, moving through the forest. The first few were men, and they avoided the dogs and moved on. One day Clipper and Girl were out back, and they heard he dogs start up. They went around to the front, Clipper nocking an arrow in his bow, just in case. A woman stood, two hundred feet away, and called to the house. A woman, and seven or eight kids. Jeezus, thought Clipper. How is she ever going to get anywhere with that crew. Jeezus.

He sent Girl in the house for beef jerky, and let her carry it out to them. He didn’t want the dogs to bite any kids. He wasn’t that worried about letting Girl approach them, not with seven kids. And he knew Girl was fairly capable of taking care of herself by now. Even so he kept maneuvering so that Girl was never between him and the group, blocking a shot. He just wanted to make sure that the kids were all really kids. The woman accepted the jerky, thanked them, and moved on. Clipper felt for her, but he didn’t know what he could do other than that. She needed to get on down the mountain, and find a place with some kind of social services. Not on a mountain, jeezus. The kids hadn’t even all been hers, some were different colors. That was generous of her, but jeezus. It was depressing to him, and sobering to Girl.

Over the next few days more and more folks passed thru. Clipper pretty much sent the men packing, but helped the women or people with children. He was never brave enough to allow anyone to spend the night or anything, though. He knew he couldn’t afford to get attached to any of these people. As he aged, it would be all he could do to keep up with looking after Girl. He didn’t need any more.