Bred by the Bushmen

“I’m going to come again,” she whispered next to his ear.

“I could keep going all night long,” he said. It was the truth. His body was at its prime, and after what felt like a lifetime alone with Caleb, he appreciated having a woman in his life. “But you go ahead and let go, baby. Come all over my cock.”

“Damon…”

Her body stiffened, then she exploded. She convulsed, her pussy squeezing him. Her feminine panting was music to his ears. He combed his hand into her long, dark hair as his own orgasm barreled to the surface. Damon tugged her head back, wanted to see her face as he flooded her with his release.

“Fuck.” The power of his orgasm surprised him. He was thirty-eight, not eighteen, but sex had never been like this.

She was such a beauty, her big green eyes glazed over, her pink lips swollen.

He knew all about lust.

Damon was in love.

****

The next morning, Damon woke up to unusual sounds. Living this deep in the wilderness for so many years made him sensitive to noises that were out of place. There was a trespasser.

He looked down on the floor. Bear was still asleep, but he was getting old, not as alert as he was years ago. At least the old dog had brought Opal to them. Caleb and Opal were still asleep on the bed, a comfortable warmth enveloping them. Damon reluctantly snuck out of the quilt, his feet hitting the cold wooden floor. He’d have to toss some logs into the fireplace to get the house warmed up before Opal woke up.

Damon already loved his new life. They’d make breakfast, learn more about their woman, and teach her about life in the wilderness. It was the lifestyle they learned from their parents, and nothing was more peaceful or rewarding.

He grabbed some socks and tugged on his jeans and flannel. Before leaving the house, he had a padded jacket, toque, and his rifle. The morning air was bitterly cold, a spray of snow falling down from the roof as he stepped on the porch. For a moment, he savored the silence and sight of the fresh snow on the evergreens. Then he heard the noise again.

He ventured off the steps, the deeper snow nearly reaching the rim of his boots. Damon followed the sound of hammering, and he knew damn well it wasn’t animals. They owned the land far beyond what the eye could see, so people were on their land. Having Opal in their home made him more territorial than normal. He wouldn’t tolerate drifters who could potentially be a danger to his woman. The type of men they’d caught before had been unsavory, the kind lacking any morals, hygiene, or human decency. The city wasn’t the only place with a dark side. If they wanted to live their dream, they had to defend their land and their values.

He eventually saw color between the trees in the distance. Damon had his rifle cocked and ready as he closed in. He counted two, so he wasn’t too outnumbered. It was stupid to come out this far without backup from his brother.

“Can I help you?” he said. Damon always tried to give people the benefit of the doubt, but he didn’t give his trust easily.

The older man stood up straight and just stared.

Damon’s peripheral vision caught the younger blond reach for something under a tarp. He turned and pointed his rifle. “Keep your hands where I can see them,” he warned.

“I ain’t doing anything wrong,” said the blond, holding up his arms at the elbows. He had a missing front tooth and greasy hair. Damon had a bad vibe from both of them.

“That’s real good,” said Damon. “Why you both way out here in this weather?”

“Are you the law?” The old bastard was pushing his luck. “I thought this was a free country.”

“You haven’t heard of the stand your ground law? I find that real hard to believe,” he said. “Considering this is my fucking land, and my gun is loaded, that’s not looking good in your favor.”

“We didn’t know anyone owned this,” said the blond.

He pointed to the quickest direction off his land. “As long as you move along, we won’t have a problem.”

Damon had evaluated everything in those few minutes. They were setting up a rudimentary campsite, and he wasn’t sure why. He didn’t like it. Blue tarps, propane heaters, a snowmobile with sled and supplies. He’d ask what they were up to, but they’d only give him lies.

He waited as they packed up their gear, leaning against one of the trees. They didn’t mind the odd extreme camper or hiker traveling through. Even the backpacking groups like Opal had joined were tolerable. These lowlifes were up to no good, and he wanted them gone. If Caleb had been there, he wouldn’t have been so gracious.