Fan Fiction ❯ The Great Outdoors ❯ The Great Outdoors ( Chapter 1 )

The Great Outdoors

 

It was lucky that we had come here. My parents were getting elderly, by centaur standards. They were visiting their human friends down by the coast, and had asked me to come along—for the experience, they said. I'd never been to Hagsloch before, but it was the biggest city in the country, and it would be the perfect place for me to realize my dream.

 

We arrived early by open train. They had a wide car in the back with hay where we stayed, and I watched the scenery become ever more green and wet. Soon rivulets appeared in the empty grasslands, dividing it and penetrating it until good portions of tall grass were mostly underwater. The train moved fast, and so the transformation was even more stunning.

 

Hagsloch appeared not as I had expected—great, tall buildings and sprawling houses—but it was flat, with long rows of beach houses and boat houses perched to the west, while most of the water-borne city lay to the east. The train left us at a dock, but we avoided the boats waiting there and went instead by foot (and gallop) to the Krecher estate.

 

The humans were well-off. Their house was one of the biggest, and there were two enormous floors, with another underground. My mother's friend let us inside and gave us a tour of the glorious grounds. There were chandeliers and foreign-made rugs, counters of semi-precious stone and marble tiles on the bathroom floors. There were many artifacts about, sitting on shelves and tables all throughout the house, many of them made of gold and adorned with huge, beautiful jewels. My mother had met her friend in the ruins, where they were each scientists working on the excavation. Some of the excavators had found great wealth there. Others had found… a little. We were one of the others.

 

When we were done touring the house, we were introduced to the Krechers' daughter, Lydia, and her fiancée.

 

I gasped aloud. He was staring at me, blue eyes held in what looked like terrified surprise. Oh, I thought, you have every reason to be terrified. I would have smiled slyly if I hadn't been rendered utterly speechless by Rich's unwelcome appearance.

 

“Do you two know each other?” asked Bethany, Lydia's mother. Poor Rich's face went white, and he clasped his hands together in front of him like he was praying to the gods.

 

I looked at Bethany, and summoned a smile. “Oh no,” I said. “He just looked so much like someone I do know.” I turned my smile on Rich and he swallowed. His eyes never left the floor after that.

 

We were very tired, especially my parents, and so Bethany led us up to our rooms on the second floor while her husband brought us a small dinner. We ate amongst ourselves and it was very hard for me to not discuss with my mother what had happened.

 

But she was always quicker than me. “Rich,” she mused, looking out the window at the great sea, “wasn't that the name of one of your boyfriends?” I laughed, but it betrayed me, and cracked.

 

“Which one?” I asked.

 

My mother rolled her eyes and set her dishes aside. “You know the one. With the other girlfriend.”

 

“Yes,” I sighed. “That's him.”

 

She shrugged her shoulders and set about preparing the room, while my father sat in the corner and leafed through the books that were arranged in a shelf along the wall. They were all old—just his type.

 

“It was nice of you to do that,” my mother said at length.

 

I gave her a curious look. “It wasn't kindness,” I said, “to him, at least. I didn't want to make an issue and ruin your little visit.” My mother paced back around to me and laid an arm on my back. “Don't worry,” I told her. “I'll be gone the whole time I'm here.”

 

At this, she laughed, and was satisfied. I, however, felt the flaming red welt in my heart come to life, and I desperately wanted tomorrow to come.

 

--

 

I slept in, while my parents went out with Bethany and her husband Marcus. When I managed to open my eyes and begin to move about, I noticed there was a ripped piece of notebook paper folded on the floor near the door.

 

When I opened it, I recognized Rich's nearly illegible handwriting immediately.

 

“Delia,

 

I am so very, very sorry about what happened in Lechslature. I do wish things hadn't turned out the way they did. You were the one I wanted, dear Delia, but I couldn't leave what's-her-name (I laughed outright and imagined spitting on him the next time I was forced to see him) without incurring the wrath of my whole team. You know that.

 

Oh, dear Delia, I do miss you dearly. I settled on this girl because Loren (“Now he names her!” I said aloud,) left me after she found out about us. But now I am committed, and I do hope we can make amends.

 

With Love,

 

Richard.”

 

I'm sure the murderous expression on my face was one for the books. I tore the letter into small shreds and dropped it in the trash can, almost wishing afterwards that I had saved it to show Rich's poor little fiancée. What a sad show, I thought, and went downstairs for some breakfast.

 

Lydia was there, and I was very cordial when I spoke with her. She told me about the project she was working on (she was a scientist, like her mother, but specialized in chemistry instead of anthropology) and I did my best to appear interested. Eventually she let me eat in peace, but then I was summoned to question her about her and Rich by my insatiable curiosity.

 

“We met in the city,” she said, referring to Hagsloch, I assumed, “at a fish market. He was living in a rented room, and was going to leave after the end of the week. We had dinner together and then promptly fell in love.”

 

It made sense. I had last seen Rich two months past, and it had been most unwelcome to see him again after so short a time. I sighed and replied, “That's wonderful.” I washed my dish, and scribbled out a message for my parents on a notepad: “In town. Will be back… Sometime.”

 

I said good-bye to Lydia, and also to Rich, who had come upstairs and was watching me very intently. I acted towards him as I would to any person I didn't know, and he looked both relieved and offended. He never was sure what he wanted, I thought. Then I pushed it out of my mind and got on an open bus that was going by. I took it into town.

 

--

 

Hagsloch was like no place I'd ever seen before. I decided to start my day a good distance away, in the hills to the southeast. There the ground was whole and dry, and there might be more of my kind there roaming the way I thought we ought to. Cattle grazed along the open hillsides, and there were no fences along the main road (which was less of a road and more of a wide dirt path). I galloped to the top of a hill, hoping to get a good look around and see if there really was anything out here worth my time. The type I wanted would be in this kind of place, roaming the fields, instead of bustling around in an urban metropolis.

 

I saw a small herd of Common centaurs, all dumbly pulling leaves off of trees and stuffing their unintelligent faces. It would do no harm to have one of these, I knew. Common or Gifted is passed down through the mother. It might be good, too, to have one who had no sentient idea of what he was doing. I looked among the small group, but they appeared to be females, and all of dull, common colors, at that.

 

I walked down the other side of the hill, and saw some humans on horses. They were chasing the cows about and one of them was working on lassoing a calf. He got one, and hauled it up onto his horse, where he tied the legs and draped the poor creature over the back like it was threshed wheat. While I stood and watched they roped another and a different cowboy did the same thing. They seemed finished, and began to trot away.

 

It was at that moment that I heard it. The cowboys must have, too, for immediately they began to run towards the path in front of me—the path that headed north, towards Hagsloch. I couldn't imagine if it was centaurs or simply horses, but I stood a little way off the trail and waited.

 

They came. There were three of them, all beautiful, all wild. One was white as snow (a color I usually find very unappealing, simply because it seems to me to be wishy-washy); the second was black as the night and shining with health and vigor; the third was a gold-brown with black, heavy feet and an attractive line down his back. The three of them headed towards me at full speed, with the cowboys behind them spurring their horses and losing one of the poor tied calves as they galloped. They all seemed to ignore me, until at the very last moment, one paused, his blonde hair shining in the sun, and without hesitation I grabbed him by the arm. The other two went on, but he seemed content to stop and follow me off the trail. The men on horses saw us, surely, but after I had claimed him they were uninterested and went on to follow the other two off into the hills beyond.

 

I surveyed my catch. He looked prettier close-up. His fur was darker than it had appeared at first, and was more of a soft beige-brown than gold. The color faded perfectly into a brown on his legs that reminded me of a Siamese cat. The hair on his head was not the same color as his fur, like mine (a dark brown), but it was curly and short around his ears. It gave him a sweet, boyish look, and was complimented by his pale skin and ice-blue eyes. He was definitely a creature of the outlands, with marred skin on his chest and arms and a great deal of muscle all over his body. Though I would have preferred his black comrade (which was the color I always admired the most, and who often had the most wonderful hair), he would do. He clearly wasn't Gifted, for he didn't speak to me, but he watched me very intently and followed me when I began to walk back towards Hagsloch. I wouldn't be caught out here in the grasslands like a common animal, but I was certain I could find a place for us in the big city.

 

--

 

I couldn't have imagined what the port town would be like.

 

It seemed to be made up of boardwalks, some with guardrails, while others were plain. They led all around like a maze, making square platforms with merchant booths or piers where there were simple, four-man boats tied up and unmarked. Occasionally a big boat would pass, carrying passengers on the upper deck and boxes and crates below. In the same vein as these were ferries, which departed from almost every pier. The captains shouted at us when we went by, “Ferry! Ferry for six pennies!” Some offered me a deal for two of us. I wanted to get a look around and find a map before I settled on anything.

 

I stopped at a booth and my buckskin compatriot looked around curiously at all the wares that were for sale.

 

“Do you have a map?” I asked the merchant. He didn't even look up from the magazine he was reading to put a pamphlet in my hand. I gave him a penny for it, and opened it up.

 

There was a mall on the far side of town, were land became more solid. There were rooms listed under the services offered, so I figured we would head there. I looked more or less normal, wearing a shirt and jacket, but the Common lad stood out like a sore thumb with his bare chest and wild, tousled hair. There were very few centaurs here. Just like any other place in the world, but even the two or three that I passed were more than could be said for my home town. Even Lechslature, where I met Rich, had only had five of us in the entire university population.

 

I settled on a ferry that would take us quickly to the mall, and the captain ushered us on. I paid ten pennies for the two of us, and he didn't complain. My companion was antsy, and I had to hold his arm to keep him from prancing around in his nervousness. He had also probably noticed my condition—it didn't help matters very much.

 

Our trip had been somewhat planned around this. My parents held no views on my decision, but had accommodated my schedule in making the arrangements to come. Seeing the means to my ends dancing beside me, I felt a little giddy, and a little nostalgic for males of my own kind. I had had a centaur boyfriend long ago in high school, and I had missed what it was like. Humans were pretty, to be certain, but lacked the same imposing stature as a true-blood centaur.

 

It was a chore to keep him still, but I managed it until we arrived. We were the first off the ferry. There were some dwarves here, with full beards and matted hair, and I felt a kind of identification with them. There were probably even fewer of their kind here than of mine.

 

The boardwalk was much wider here, and led in one direction back towards the city center, and the other towards a great, land-based brick building. I didn't have to hold him now. He followed patiently, occasionally bumping into me if I stopped to look around. The front doors to the mall were very large and tied open, so those who might not have hands could manage. My poor centaur was blinded by the fluorescent lights inside, and we had to stand in the lobby for a couple of moments and wait while his eyes adjusted.

 

The rooms were located behind the department store, down a hallway. You paid upon leaving. Many travelers stayed here if they were merchants or traders from other countries, because the accommodations could be rather pricey, but the classiness of the place reflected the cost. I didn't have any money problems, for my parents were wealthy, and it came in handy when negotiating for a room that was big enough for both of us.

 

Finally, we were there. I pushed my lucky find inside before me, and then closed the door after us, bolting it. The dun didn't have to be told what to do. He must have smelled me the moment he ran by—the reason he had stopped. I took him and not his black-furred friend because if my body had called to him, and he responded, then he was just the right type. Here, in the big, tile room (they didn't want our hooves messing up the carpets) he came up to me and in a way I didn't expect from a Common centaur, without any intelligence to speak of, he ran his large hands over my fur. He sniffed the air and I saw his member slip out of the sheath, growing and engorging.

 

I shivered. Centaurs were big: it was the nature of our construction. But this fine fellow had plenty to boast. I looked at him and took off my jacket, dropping it to the floor, and my shirt (which suddenly felt hotter than a wool blanket) followed. I touched my breasts for a moment or two, before I trained my attention on my partner. I would need a support so I moved to the wall, propping my hands up on it and trying to keep my four legs standing as anticipation began to make my knees weak. What I was doing was not uncommon these days, where our numbers were dwindling like a run-out creek. I was more than excited. I was overcome.

 

I nearly stumbled when he put the weight of his front legs on me. The smell of my heat seemed to have finally really taken over in him, and without hesitation he began to prod me. I did my best to keep my back legs from dropping. Finally this stranger of a beast found his way and slipped into me.

 

It was the most amazing sensation of my life. I knew choosing a wild one was the right decision: he had the stamina and the muscle that no tame, civilized Gifted centaur could know. He gripped my shoulders in his hands and his front hooves on my back scratched me, but it only escalated the fiery sensation. He was large, indeed. He filled me up and pushed my limits, striking every possible pleasure center on the way. When I cried out as my first orgasm shook me, he growled in my ear and pumped harder. It was fast and furious. Both of us, it seemed, had some pent-up energy. I orgasmed again (which, I will admit, has never happened before) and the stallion groaned as he released. He thrusted hard, so that my body was filled with him, and he emptied himself inside me. It was the most fulfilling experience of my life. His hands clawed my shoulders once more before he withdrew himself, making a wet pop!, and maneuvered his big front legs back to the ground without injuring me.

 

I stood there, my hands still pressed against the wall and my knees shaking uncontrollably, for at least two minutes. I felt his seed pour into me like water on a fire. A pain I never knew I had began to dim, and feeling a little better, I went into the bathroom to clean up.

 

When I came back, he was leaning against the wall with his eyes focused on nothing. I went over and stroked the hair on his head, trailing my hands down his well-defined muscles and smooth, oily fur. I reached under his haunch and stroked the furry sheath, using my other hand to knead his enormous testicles. They were still engorged, and at my touch, the sheath slowly opened and he began to pant a little.

 

“Ready again so soon?” I asked. The bright blue eyes turned on me quickly, but I took my hands away and patted him on the rump. “Stay here,” I said. “I'll get us some food. You must be hungry.”

 

He said nothing, as Common cannot speak, and I left the room with the key. I locked it behind me. It wouldn't do to have him wandering away.

 

--

 

It was a little after five in the evening, and so I gave my mother a call to let her know how I was doing.

 

“I found one,” I said to her. She didn't sound too surprised. “He was out in the wilds. Oh mother, he's beautiful!”

 

“I'm sure,” she replied. “Will you be home by dinnertime? We'll be eating at seven, on the dot.”

 

I laughed. “Definitely not. We've only just begun. I'll be eating dinner here, and I may not be home until tomorrow.”

 

My father had been against my decision at the beginning, but my mother was all for it. I had the resources to quite easily support myself. I worked successfully as an artist, and most of my work had sold for more money than I could use in a year. I wouldn't go back to Lechslature, where I had gone to school and lived for a couple of years after graduation. My mother wanted me to go back to my hometown so she could participate in raising her grandchild. She was the gentlest and most impressive woman I could have hoped to have for a mother, and she had easily persuaded my father that it was all a very good idea. “Separating with our Common kind has cut our numbers into pieces,” she told him. “You know it might be near impossible for Delia to find a centaur husband—remember how she wanted to marry that human back in college? Do you want that to happen?”

 

He had to admit he wanted grandchildren, too, and so my parents had agreed. I could live with them for a time in Kensford, far to the west, and then buy my own place. I would hire a nanny and spend a couple of hours every day painting, and would spend the rest with my newborn. The idea of living near my parents hadn't appealed to me at first, but after a while, I became delighted at the prospect. I felt a surge of happiness as I hung up the phone and went to buy two vegetarian meals at the mall's fancy food court.

 

Common centaurs were omnivores, but lived mostly on vegetation, nuts, and berries. Though the Gifted ate like any other civilized creature, I thought it would be nice to both find something suitable for my companion and get into the mood myself. It was a primal experience, and I was certainly going to enjoy it.

 

When I came back, it had been nearly an hour that I was gone, and the buckskin had begun snoozing in the corner of the room. I set down the food on the table and went over to rouse him. He opened his mouth, but saw me, and closed it. I had put on my shirt to leave but I took it off now, and without hesitating he reached out and put his large hands firmly on my breasts. I gasped a little in surprise at the feel of his cold flesh, but he used one arm to pull me closer while his rough fingers fondled my pert nipples. I hadn't even imagined that the Common could be sensual, but I found myself breathless and wide-eyed as he stared at me, his gaze never leaving mine while he worked his magic.

 

Soon I had become too aroused to keep up, and leaned up against the wall. I couldn't hold out my arms, for they were shaking, but he easily managed. I was so wet that when he touched me there with one hand, I nearly jumped and I caught my moan in my throat. I hadn't realized before how much larger than me he was, but this time I really felt his weight and it only turned me on more. He was inside me before I could process anything.

 

His body was spread further over mine this time, and his front legs were draped over my front haunches rather than on my back, which I found was more comfortable. His torso was also longer; he put his head on my shoulder and grasped my breasts in his hands while he began to thrust into me. He felt even larger in me this time. There was some sort of texture at his base (I must not have noticed it when he wasn't fully engorged) and it brushed at my entrance with every thrust, making my first orgasm come easily. He felt this and began to move harder. I couldn't help the cries that came to my lips.

 

In my imagination, there wasn't a dark, tiled room, but open grassland, gold in the summer and hot from the sun beating down. We stood out in the middle of it and were no more than two wild creatures engaging in an act older than time. In that moment I envied the Common and their primordial nature. At the same time, for this couple of minutes, I had become one of them.

 

I gasped as he pushed harder into me and the texture, which must have been like rubbery spines, sparked another tidal wave of an orgasm. I had never had sex like this before. My wild thing ran his hands down my belly and back up, creating a sensation that ran all the way through me like a closed circuit. He grunted and I thought I heard him whisper something in my ear, but I couldn't be sure, because at that moment he came inside of me. It was wonderful and I moaned. He thrusted once more, and then twice, until I thought that we might accidentally merge into one being. The fire finally went out and I let out a satisfied sigh, my legs giving out and my vanquisher coming down with me.

 

He didn't remove himself, and I imagined he was probably more tired than I was. It was an awkward position but we stayed that way for some time. He licked and nipped at my neck and then slowly removed himself, standing up over me and walking to the table, where I had set out our forgotten food. When I finally joined him he was eating, and while he used his hands, it wasn't nearly as barbaric as I had expected.

 

We finished about the same time and I threw away the plastic containers. I started to put on my shirt, but his hand stopped me. I glanced up, and didn't know why I hadn't seen the very prominent glimmer of intelligence in his eyes before.

 

“Were you at Millshern, about six or seven years ago?”

 

His voice was deep and musical, like a bass cello. I stared at him and the shock must have been evident on my face.

 

I stuttered through my response. “Um, yes, er, yes, I think so.”

 

I had been there on vacation with my best friend from the university. We went to the beach every day from our hotel and when we were done, her tanned skin was very mismatched to her mostly white spotted fur. He smiled at me a smile I thought was very sly, and looked away.

 

“I met you there. Do you remember, Barates?” I stared at him, and imagined someone younger, with shorter, bobbed hair and a much slimmer, less muscular physique.

 

“Sure!” I said. “We met at that club. That was the worst idea I've ever had.” I started laughing.

 

He pushed back some of my hair, and I realized very suddenly how bizarre this was. “Wait,” I said then, and drew back from him, “what were you doing out there, out in the outlands?”

 

Barates cleared his throat and unconsciously rubbed his hand over a large scar on his chest. “There are a lot of us,” he told me, “more than you think. A whole herd of Gifted left civilization and joined our Common brothers out in the wild.” He touched my face and I furrowed my brow. He took his hand away. “I've been living out there for nearly five years now. The humans think we are Common so they try to herd us or move us from one piece of land to another, but the Gifted of us like to make trouble.”

 

“And that's what you were doing when I saw you.” He nodded his head.

 

“Well, I wouldn't criticize, if I were you. What are you doing?”

 

I gave him a questioning look, until I realized what all had passed between us, and my face turned flush red. This was exactly what I had been trying to avoid, and suddenly I felt angry.

 

“I thought you were Common!” I growled, stepping back and walking over to the other side of the room. “No wonder our numbers have dropped off so severely in the last decade or two. You all have been retreating from society!”

 

“Now…”

 

I interrupted him. “I'm trying to do my part and keep my species alive.” I eyed him, and crossed my arms over my chest. I stood in an irritated stance, with my hooves apart, and my back legs out like a stallion might do.

 

Barates only nodded his head. “I wanted to avoid all this,” I said. “But it looks like even that is impossible these days, with Gifted ones defecting from society and leaving us to be barren and alone as we die out.”

 

“You could join us,” he said, his voice quiet. He didn't look at me.

 

I shook my head. “No,” I told him. “Not at all. I don't know what happened to you to make you leave, but I am fine where I am.” I picked my shirt and jacket up off the floor, and put them on. His eyes, which had seemed so fiery before, didn't focus on me. He kept his gaze averted. “Thanks for your… participation,” I said at last.

 

“Sure,” he replied.

 

I felt a little sad, because he had been a wonderful lover, so I went over to him and lifted up his chin with one hand. He was much taller than I. I liked that feeling of being dwarfed. He took my hand away from him by the wrist and held it out, not releasing me but not letting me touch him. I felt a little ashamed when he looked at me, like a misbehaving child.

 

“Won't you stay, at least for the night?” he said. Though it was constructed like a question, it didn't much sound like one. He dropped my arm and put his hands at my throat, lifting them up under my ears so he cupped my face. He raised his eyebrows, encouraging me to respond.

 

I let out a sigh and said, “All right.”

 

“You want to be sure you get pregnant, right?” He laughed at me, and I nodded my head. It wasn't a bad idea. I had planned on it, really, but I was offended by surprises. He took me by the hand and guided me back into the main area of the room, where he took off my shirt, laying it down on the bedtable. The bed consisted of mats against the far wall. He leaned down to take one of my nipples in his mouth, and I forgot what I'd been thinking of.

 

--

 

I walked in the front door of the Krecher house at around noon the next day. I was still amazed at the stamina of the one I'd picked out (or, I thought, had picked me). I was tired, for we'd spent most of the night roaring like wild animals, and slept for only a couple of hours. I remembered Barates with his side to the wall, his legs out, while I slumbered in the nest his body made. I would think of it fondly for a long time. I left while he was still asleep the next morning, and paid for the room for the whole next day in case he slept on until forever.

 

My parents were at the table, eating with Bethany, Rich, and Lydia. Marcus had left for the day doing architecture work. What Rich did, I didn't know—he probably sat around and leeched off his soon-to-be in-laws. It wouldn't have surprised me.

 

“There she is!” my mother cried when she saw me. She quickly came over and hugged me, then pushed me away by the shoulders so she could look me over. “Oh dear, don't you just look wonderful?” I blushed.

 

I hadn't expected my parents to tell their civilized human friends what my plan was, but Bethany seemed to find it both incredibly interesting and commendable. “It's simply intelligent,” she said to me. “You get to pick out the sire and everything, without all the silliness of romance and marriage. It's all quite useless if you're looking only to have a child and not for a life-long mate.”

 

I nodded in agreement. “So, what did you find?” Lydia meekly asked.

 

“Oh,” I said dreamily, emphasizing my swoon, “he was beautiful! Gold like the sun, handsome as can be—it was only chance that I found him.” The three women looked enraptured by my tale as I told it. Rich couldn't have seemed less pleased. When I finished, my mother hugged me even tighter than before.

 

“I can't believe there are Gifted ones living wild,” Bethany said, the anthropologist in her taking over. “That is quite something! I should write a paper about it. You say they live just outside Hagsloch?” I nodded my head. “How very interesting.”

 

“Well,” Rich said finally, “I don't think this whole business is even remotely proper! You have no idea what you've gotten yourself into.” Even Lydia was on my side now, and she smacked him on the arm much harder than I expected. He flinched and stared at her like she was a madwoman.

 

“Go sit on it and rotate,” she told him. In a flush of anger he got up from the table, shot me a glare, and then left down into the basement where they were staying.

 

--

 

While I was pregnant, I stayed with my parents, looking over the classified ads for nice houses on the market. I found one and after I had my baby, I went there and my parents spent their time buying furniture and decorating the place. I had a nanny like I wanted, and I did some paintings of my little boy as an infant that sold for more money than I could have ever imagined. My mother came over almost every day and played with him, chronicling his growth with photographs as he got older and older.

 

When Anthos was five, I took him to the outlands of Hagsloch to show him where he had come from. He was amazed with the place, and spent most of a day gallivanting around. His hair was blonde and curly like his father's, but his skin and eyes were dark, like mine. His fur was between ours, of a medium-brown, and his legs were dark satin. He seemed natural in the sunny grasslands, and when we saw a herd of centaur (I couldn't be sure if they were Common or Gifted), he eagerly ran to them.

 

Barates looked much older now. I greeted the herd, who were all naked as the day they were born (and so was I, to blend in) and they didn't question me. There were two other children for Anthos to play with, and once he had gone off to romp, Barates separated himself from the others to speak with me.

 

“A cute boy,” he said, watching him roll about. His legs were sturdy, but sometimes he looked like he might simply fall over. “What do you call him?”

 

We talked for a while about what Anthos had been like as an infant, and I shared with him some funny anecdotes. “You should bring him back here more often.” The way he said, “back,” it made me realize that my little boy was just as much civilized as he was wild. I nodded my head, agreeing.

 

He touched my hair, then, and drew it off to one side so he could look at my back. He ran his hand from my neck down my spine, and leaned in to whisper to me, “Do you want another one?”