"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
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 water's surface 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. Fortunately 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 she'd been thinking of the same time. Probably regretting being a coward. 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 was 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 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 Friday? 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 remembering 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, 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 after lunch," 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, 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 girl complained. "And fairy houses! Ha!"
Sylvia and her hard tanned father lay on the rock overlooking the ravine. The man looked over at his daughter. She lay stretched on her stomach, her face just peeking over the rock's edge. He had a fine view of her backside, her delicate spine just visible where her blouse pressed against it, and 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 more while idly caressing her between her legs. Where his wrist rested on her rump, her skin flushed slick with sweat.
Her eyes widened. "Nasty tricks indeed," she whispered. 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, "You won't have long to wait, you never do."
"Remember," he whispered, "Mix in a drop of me with their blood when you bite. They'll crave the first creature they see when they open their eyes."
She grinned, "I'm looking forward to this". The next moment, where she'd been, a green headed horse fly hovered. Half an inch long, its body shimmered a metallic black. It dove at the man, 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 but stayed still.
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 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 its little burden of blood in its beak. It rose over a ridge and then down the steep hillside to the edge of a long lake. A couple sailboats idled on the lake, mirrored on its airless water. A jet ski whined loudly along the far bank, making much better time.
The jay flew straight to where a dead oak stood. At its dead roots a stream drained into the lake. Again a horsefly, it flew to the tree top and a filthy nest made of tangled branches. Dust rose over the nest edge. Two hawks were in the nest mating. One behind and on top of the other. Its beak gripped the other's neck. The fly didn't hesitate but bit the female, the one underneath, on its stinking cloaca. The hawk gave a loud surprised cry and collapsed.
The fly idled a moment as if it wanted to hang around and watch the fun. It poked at a bit of long dead squirrel. The ardent male hawk did not notice that his love was unconscious. He kept on vigorously flopping on her. With a petulant buzz, the fly rose in the air then again a bird it flew back the way it'd come.
In the ravine, Sam knelt beside his daughter looking desperate. He'd taken off his shirt, a beige knit thing, and covered her chest with it. It was all he had. An opened first aid kit sat tossed aside on the dirt.
She looked bad, completely still, her eyes open, only a bit of breath and drool from her lips showed that there was life.
The man frantically swatted at the fly. Without much effort it evaded him and vanished up her shorts. Again it bit her. The girl jerked suddenly and moaned. Sam forgot the fly and said "Thank God!"
The fly rose leisurely into the air, buzzed about his head a few times in a derisory fashion and then it flew up and away.
A moment later the red haired girl lay gasping from exertion on the rock. She rolled on her back, licked her lips and stared at the sky. Of her father, there was no sign.
She rolled back over and looked over the edge. The dad was walking back and forth next to the girl. The girl was still out, but now she looked more like she was sleeping. The guy took his phone from his pocket but then after a moment tossed it onto the ground. "Still no fucking signal!" he shouted.
Eva woke to heat and fleas and dust and a sharp pain in her neck and excitement in her sex and a hot ardent mess of feathers pressing down upon her. She heaved her startled mate off and then of a sudden she was a naked girl perched in a ragged nest at the top of a tree.
The branch that supported the nest snapped under the sudden weight.
She screamed looking down at the ground 100 feet below. Another branch hit her as she plummeted. She grabbed at it then something else banged her head and something else snapped. She changed and her wings cupped and ruled the rushing air. She stared at those wings in shock and again tumbled out of control.
She would've hit the ground with a force that would've broken her back, but she was caught. Again she reverted to human and she fainted.
Her first thought when she came too was, "A dream. Just a dream. I won't drink after exercise on such a hot day ever again."
Her eyes still closed, she realized that she had to be still dreaming as there was far more sun around than there should be in the cool of the ravine. She parted her eyes and was confused. Surely the straight blond hair hanging in face should've been red with a tendency to curl? Surely the flat breasts she felt and saw should've been full? Self supporting though she'd nursed a dozen children? But she was only 22 and had never had sex. She shook her head and felt sick.
A hand touched her shoulder and she found herself looking up into a strange yet familiar man's tanned face. A huge face that filled her vision. His black eyes, alert merciless hunter's eyes, gleamed with amusement.
She jumped to her feet and he straightened. He was the largest man she'd ever seen. He had to be easily 7 feet. And he was naked. His penis was enormous and erect. She realized she was naked too. She put one hand over her sex and with the other she covered her breasts, glad that they were small.
She gaped with shock. She wanted the man more than she'd ever wanted anything. She wanted to jump him and clamp her thighs around him. She quivered and swayed.
The man watched her. In anthropology she'd learned that what made humans such exquisite hunters was their ability to put themselves in their prey's place. His eyes seemed to know everything she thought and felt. The trembling in her legs got worse.
The man laughed and then rumbled, "You're a stubborn little thing. To fall when it's so easy to fly, to keep your own form when every cell longs to be my wife, to fight when your very being wants to be fucked."
And she knew who he was. He was her husband, though she knew she was not married. She remembered fucking him countless times, though she'd never had sex. She wanted him more than anything, there was no confusion about that.
He said, "I wondered if the first thing you saw, the first suitable thing that is, not a branch or the sun, would be me or my hawkish rival. Fun either way, but I'm glad it was me."
She turned and ran. A second later she realized she was running on all fours, her hands hitting the dirt had become slim cloven hooves. She all but flew up the bank away from the lake and into the woods. Her skin was covered with sweating brown fur. The world through her eyes seemed all shades of sepia and it was impossibly full of sharp smells and distinct sharp sounds.
Behind her came a deep excited barking.
She turned her head. She looked back along a deer's back. Beyond her bounding rump, she saw a large dog eagerly giving chase. She tripped and fell in a heap. The dog jumped on her but didn't bite, just started panting and salivating down upon her.
Automatically she changed. She streaked into the air her wings a jay's blue. Behind her she heard a derisive call and looking back she saw a goshawk rise into the air to give lazy chase.
She landed on a branch, out of breath, terrified and amazed. What a dream.
She looked about but there was nowhere to hide. She looked a second time and in an instant she was but another ant on the branch. One of many trotting along a scent trail. The world was filled with a voice that said "Very clever." Then she was plucked squirming, a razor sharp beak holding her by the thorax. The bird's tongue touched her antennae and her senses were overwhelmed with desire for him.
She became a bear. She grasped the branch desperately with her claws. The bird gave a disgusted squawk and she was down the tree more falling than climbing.
Again she became a bird and was off through the trees. She saw a stream and hit it with a splash. A minnow now, she swam swiftly down and slid under an algae slick rock, gills trembling wildly.
There was a splash that sent shock waves of indistinct sound through the water. She seemed to hear it with her whole small body. Before she could dart away, two hands cupped her and the rock and some mud and she was lifted up into the harsh painful air. The water drained off the hand and she flopped about painfully unable to breath. With a sob she changed back to herself. The man's hands gripped her bottom. She felt the cold slippery rock poke up rudely between her thighs. The man balanced her there a moment, the muscles of his arms and shoulders strained. Then he set her down ankle deep in the stream. She sank down on a rock and burst into tears.
"A spirited chase," he said easily, "But incompetent. My wife would've lost me as easily as one of time's happy moments flits from a man's grasp."
He touched her shoulder and she looked up at him and all she could see was his cock and all she could think of was how much she wanted him. It was driving her insane. When would this dream end.
"Come with me," he said.
She found herself a beetle under a rock in a dark world of wonderful scent. She sensed movement and smelled him coming, following her trail. A trail of chemicals that made him wild for her.
She found herself a beaver in its lodge in the winter cold. There was a splash and her mate rose from the water with tender aspen branches in his mouth and sex in his eyes because she smelled so exciting.
She was a plain brown hen in a steaming jungle staring fascinated at the fanned out tail of the cock that strutted up and down the clearing. His tail was the most amazing thing she'd ever seen, awash in iridescent colors that ranged far into the ultraviolet.
She found herself a chimpanzee, her sex swollen and stinking for the first time. She watched the prime male thrash a rival and then she watched apprehensively as he swaggered towards her.
And each time, just as she was about to get what she wildly wanted, she was someplace else. Even when she was some kind of fish, swimming into the sex scented water of a crevice in the coral, swimming through a male's sperm, she switched before any could make their way inside her.
Then she was back with him. The stream ran cool about her ankles. The day was hot with the smell of sun on summer meadow flowers. She sighed and leaned and kissed him on his chest, her forehead level with his nipples. He led her splashing up the brook, twined against him, to where the stream parted around a small islet, all moss and fern. He helped her down and onto her back. He knelt over her like an enormous cloud. She reached up and grabbed his hips and pulled him to her. She vanished beneath him. Someone walking by would have just seen a man lying face down sporting an extra pair of legs and arms. Perhaps some kind of drunken Hindu god. When he found her entrance, any passerby would've heard her wordless shout. A moment later she gasped, "You'll kill me."
She shouted out again when he'd driven all the way into her, his thighs forcing hers to split painfully wide, her hands clutching his ass, pulling him fiercely down, not vainly fighting to push him him off like a sensible person would have. She felt his balls on knock on her bottom.
He lay still. There was just the sound of the birds and the murmur of the stream and the whine of the insects. When he moved just slightly, starting to pull out, his hips tensing for their motion, she felt a sudden painful cramp in the arches of her feet and in her calves and her whole body tensed and she came with a pent up cry of excitement.
He let her lie still a moment, then he started rhythmically running his cock in and out of her. She came again amid gasping panting and tears.
The fucking seemed to go on forever. Beneath him Eva did not see the sun fall between the trees. She lay lost in the dark, her face pressed by his chest into the moss, the smell of their sex hung steamy about her. She began to sob weakly. She begged him stop. She had come again and again with pain and pleasure. Now she was drained and felt nothing but a kind of boredom and a fearful ache in her cunt and in her thighs.
The first fireflies of the evening flickered about them. She stared at them in a daze, at first not knowing what they were. He thrust down hard. He grunted and her bruised cunt felt him pulse within her. All his weight sank upon her and she felt that the air had to pass an impossible long way through a tiny cracklike cave to get fouled to her gaping mouth.
In a smooth movement he pulled out and stood. "You're a fine fuck," he rumbled and then he was gone, leaving Eva lying barely conscious on the crushed moss and ferns.
Hours before, back at the ravine, shortly after the second bite from the fly, Sam's daughter woke with a stretch and a sigh. Sam said "Thank God!" and as her eyes popped open, he bent down.
Her eyes met his. His face hung but a foot above her. Her eyes widened with delighted surprise.
Sylvia, watching from above, grinned.
"Oh my darling," the girl said in a tone her dad'd clearly never expected to hear from his girl, "Have you been worried?"
"What? Oh yes. I think you had an allergic shock to a sting. The first aid kit had an antihistamine. I put it in your mouth but it didn't seem to do any good."
"Forget the first aid kit."
"I tried to call 911 but my phone doesn't get a signal."
"Forget the phone."
"I was so worried."
"My darling, forget your worries."
Her eyes lowered admiringly from his face to his bare chest. Nervously he said, "I was afraid you'd get a chill," he grinned at how silly it sounded, the day was so hot, "I put my shirt over you, it was all I had."
"Forget the shirt." She tossed it to one side and stood and the dad took a step back.
"Eva," he said, "You're not alright. We have to get you to a hospital."
She frowned. "Forget the hospital. Darling, you are all that I need."
She took a step toward him.
He took another step back. "You're not feeling well. Don't you know me? I'm your father."
She frowned even more. "I know that. I least I think that's true. But I also know you're not my father."
"You're the most desirable man on earth. You're eye candy off the internet. You're the fuck I've waited all my life for. Though I live another thousand years, I'll never meet any man as perfect as you."
He opened his mouth too stunned to speak.
"What sort of idiot wears clothes on a hot day like this," his daughter asked. She widened her eyes playfully, confident of his stunned attention, and pulled off her t-shirt. "You like what you see?"
She glanced down at herself and seemed surprised. "Well maybe not so much," she said.
"Eva please," he said, "You're not yourself".
"That's true enough," she said, "Hopefully there's something better down here." She undid the buttons on her shorts and let them fall. Her underpants seemed to bemuse her. She seemed to forget him while staring at them. "They're boring. Why wear something if its boring?" she asked.
"You're bound to like this though," she added and fixing him with another smile, she pulled her white underpants down over her knees and stepped out of them. She tossed them into the stream.
Even upset as he was, he had to admit that his daughter was a sight.
In his distraction, she surprised him. She took a running step and jumped him, spreading her legs as she flew. She wrapped her legs around his waist and gripped his neck and kissed him hard on the lips.
"Eva," he shouted, "Stop!" He tore his daughter off and set her struggling feet on the ground. He strained to hold her at arm's length.
She said, "I want to bounce your bones till the meat falls off them."
With a strength he didn't know he had, he picked her up, carried her to the pool and threw her in.
She stood with a shout and came splashing for him. "My darling, let's fuck in the stream and boil away the water."
He took one more look at his daughter rushing at him and he took to his heels. "I'm going for help," he shouted.
At the top of the rise something, he thought it was a stick appeared out of nowhere and tripped him. He thought he heard a laugh. He sprawled heavily. His daughter jumped upon him. She kissed him and started to struggle with his belt and the button and zipper of his shorts. "Why are pants so complicated!" she shouted in complaint.
He pushed her roughly off. He jumped up and started running. Brambles tore at him, he tripped on a log. His haste left him too distraught to stay on the path. He turned to see where it was but saw his daughter coming determinedly for him.
"Shit," he said. He had to get help. The only way was to get away from her and then angle back to the trail. He turned and ran again.
Eva, or rather the woman in Eva's body, followed him as best she could but she couldn't keep up. She slowed to avoid the worst of the brambles and for a time followed the crashing sounds of his passage, he really wasn't at all woods wise.
That thought calmed her and without the girl's dad in sight, her dad, she thought, then she brushed the confusion away, without his presence, she could think. She began to slip more easily through the woods. His trail was easy to follow. If only she could've changed shape, but of course she couldn't. Changing shape seemed a ridiculous notion, but natural too.
Soon she would catch up to him and she felt a wave of hot desire rise inside her. She came to a swampy clearing. A large mouse contentedly browsed on the foliage at its edge. Its tail flicked at flies in a derisory fashion. There was no sign of her love's trail leaving the clearing. She had been fooled, and easily too. She felt a hot flush of anger.
"You fucking slut!" she yelled at the moose. "When I'm myself again I swear, I'll drive you from these woods and hills!"
Where the moose had been, stood her daughter Sylvia, knee deep in the marsh. Sylvia grinned easily. "Dad prefers me, I think it'll be you, Mom, who leaves."
"Slut!" the woman screamed, beside herself. She jumped at her daughter but Sylvia'd vanished and all that happened was the woman fell face first in the mud.
She picked herself up and sat with her back to a tree. Tears started in her eyes. Idly her fingers began to play with her sex. She jumped up. "Shit! I forgot all about him! My darling man."
She slid easily into the woods, retracing her steps to find where she'd been deceived.
At first he tried to cut back to the trail. The going was made slow by the tangled growth, the moss covered boulders and the countless sudden steep little hills left behind by particularly vindictive glaciers. He realized he was steadily rising so he had to be climbing the ridge, going precisely in the wrong direction. Then he realized that if he hadn't left his cell phone back by the stream, he'd probably have reception. He came close to despair then.
He began to follow the "always go downhill when lost" rule. Sometimes he stopped to listen. He half wished he'd hear his daughter and that she would come upon him with all her faculties back in order. He did not go so far as to call out to her though.
He came to where a large tree had been uprooted and had crashed down clearing a sizable gap in the woods. The clearing was grassy with tangled blackberry brambles. It was oppressively hot.
He sat on the trunk. It was soft and spongy with decay. He wiped his forehead with his arm. He looked at all the scratches on his arms and bare gleaming chest. They began to itch all at once.
"Eye candy," he thought, with a tired grin, "I look more like an unhealthy species of toadstool."
"Hey," a voice said.
Before him stood an auburn haired girl. She wore only a white blouse that loosely held breasts that needed no holding. It was knotted at her stomach. She regarded him with a slight smile. She looked impossibly cool and clean. Her skin was the palest milk color and there seemed to be an awful lot of it. Her pubic hair was sparse and only slightly darker then her skin. His eyes rested there.
"This must be a dream," he said in disbelief.
"Think what you like," she said calmly, "It's a free country."
It dawned on him that he was staring. He looked away, flushing.
"And look where you like too," she added, with a grin, "Like I said, the country's free."
"Do you know where my daughter is?"
When she said nothing more, he said, "Look, I'm in a bad mood. Even if this wasn't a dream I'd be inclined to do something I'd regret."
"Try," she said, complacently.
"Where is my daughter?"
"She's taking her ease by the lake to the east of here and she's taking a stroll through the woods to the west."
"She has us surrounded."
"You don't know where she is."
"Is she alright?"
"Nothing's happened to her that doesn't happen to most of us on occasion."
"You're a lunatic."
She grinned, "I'm not the one running half naked through the hot woods."
"You're half naked."
"More than half, but it's a hot day."
"Will she be alright?"
The girl considered the question.
"And if your answer doesn't take into account the intent of the question I'll shake you till your teeth rattle."