The Great Escape Chapter 10, Part 2 of 6

The Great Escape
Chapter 10, Part 2 of 6

At the waystation

It was a small waystation on a triangular spur of land where a stream cut out an island in the lush meadow on its meandering course westward to the sea.

There was a grassy platform with small storage huts and a long wooden awning supported by wooden posts.

Here, the horses could shelter from the cold night rain.

Two small tents and one large tent were erected in the clearing beside the huts next to a small campfire. Three Herders pottered about, tending to the fire and cooking dinner. Their horses contentedly nibbled the meadow grass or drank from the stream.

Solange steered her mare down the bank and into the knee-high water, where she stopped.

"When did you last bathe?" she asked.

He thought back. It was yesterday afternoon in the Mariner Settlement, before dinner, since when he'd spent the night and that morning shagging Cressi. Then followed a long ride across the hot plain on a sweaty horse beside a hot woman. He could certainly do with a wash.

"A day ago," he admitted.

"I thought so," she said, grabbing his foot. She pulled hard upward, and he fell off the horse sideways.

"You bitch!" he yelled as he splashed into the water.

"Have a nice bath," she called as she spurred her horse up the other bank and into the settlement.

He sat in the stream and decided he might as well wash himself and his clothes. He undressed and sank into the clear, warm water. A few minutes later, Solange appeared on the other bank, naked, thin, and muscular.

Black and purple tattoos covered the brown skin of her arms and legs. The tattoos were in patterns: mostly lines, snakes, and diamonds. Some were dotted around her neck and down her stomach and back. Only her buttocks and inner thighs were spared.

She walked calmly into the water and sat down next to him, unconcerned, while he checked out her body.

"Wash my back for me," she said.

He grabbed mud from the stream, rubbed it over her shoulders and back, and washed it off. He repeated for her lower back but stopped at her bottom.

"Come on," she said, standing up. "Finish the job."

As he washed her buttocks, he said:

"Tell me about your tattoos."

"Ash does them. She likes to doodle after sex."

A normal woman would probably want to know if he liked them, but Solange didn't care what he thought.

"All right, I'm done. Now you," she said. "Turn around."

She washed his back, noticing the scratches and bites. Facing him, she ran her finger along a long red scar that crossed his chest.

"Who's responsible for these?"

"Cressi."

"That little blonde doll? Good for her. I bet she's fun."

"She has her moments," he said.

"So, who are you going to fuck tonight?" she asked.

"You, of course."

"Good choice."

He'd hoped to trip her up, but it was clear nothing would faze this woman. He liked her no-nonsense views on the world and even her aggression, which was mostly bluster. It was just a test to see if someone would stand up to her, after which she'd back down.

They'd done washing, and she led him up the bank to the tents, where the Herder women were waiting to start dinner. There were four: Ash and Glynn, who'd ridden to the trade meeting with Solange, plus Hannah, an older woman who looked after the camp that day.

The girls had made a simple dinner of a rich beef soup with pulses and beans, which they mopped with soft flatbread. They took their time eating.

Glynn and Ash were chatty and playful in their early twenties. Hannah was quieter and more serious. She was nearly forty, about ten years older than Solange.

"Tomorrow, we'll ride down to the southern camp," Solange explained to Ezra.

"That's where most of us are at the moment, except for some out with the flocks and a couple tending to the dairy herd at the northern camp. Twice a year, we go to the southern settlement for a month to shear the sheep.

The rest of the time, we drive the herd along the plain between the northern camp near the Cloner City and way stations like this one."

"How far is it to the southern camp," Ezra asked, hoping not to sit on a horse all day.

"A day's ride: about thirty miles. It's another twenty or so miles after that to the mountains."

"Oh, joy!"

"You're a man, and you can take it. Speaking of which, it's bedtime. You girls sleep in the big tent. Ezra and I will take the small tent."

"Solange, can we play with Ash?" Glynn asked.

"Sure, you can."

"May we borrow your toys?"

Solange glanced at Ash and saw the edge of a smile on her lips.

"Go ahead," she said with relish. "Fuck her brains out."

She had no nervousness or shyness in the tent in front of him. The bed was a leather sheet under a pile of thick woolen blankets on the floor. She undressed and lay down. She turned to face him, one knee raised, leaning up on her elbow, waiting for him to strip and join her. She hadn't spoken.

A few slaps and squeals from the other tent interrupted the silence. Solange smiled.

"Ash is enjoying herself," she said. "Now it's my turn."

Naked, he lay down next to her, and she put her hand on his shoulder to pull herself close.

She kissed him. As he expected, she was a good kisser: firm and whole-hearted. She pressed against him and was pleased to feel his cock begin to harden as it had done against her back while they were on the horse.

It was cool in the tent, and they were hot. Ezra lay on her, kissing down her body, tasting the skin of her flat chest, small nipples standing out proudly. Kissing along the muscles of her stomach, he worked down to her pussy. He pushed tight coils of thick black hair out of the way and put his tongue on her clitoris.

"What are you doing?" she asked.

"Licking your pussy."

"Why?"

"Well, some women like it."

"All women like it, but that's what I've got Ash for. I want you to fuck me like a man should."

"How is that?"

"How would I know? You're the man. But not like a woman. What's a man's style of sex?"

"Apart from sticking my cock in you, much the same as a woman, but rougher and harder."

"I like the sound of that. Fuck me rough and hard."

If she hadn't been winding him up all day, he might not have obeyed quite so literally, but if any woman had asked for it, it was Solange.

He lay heavily on her and roughly forced her legs further apart with his knees, then he pushed his hard cock against her pussy. He tried to push in but was stopped just inside her vagina. She was dry and tight. Also, Solange had clenched her pelvic wall muscles to make it as difficult for him as possible. It was another test: would he force himself into her?

He sucked hard on one tit and put his hand to her throat, choking her a little, trying to distract her into giving her more access. Solange responded with heavy breaths and moans, but she didn't relax her pussy muscles.

He withdrew and shoved in harder. Her clenched pussy muscles still constricted his entrance, but he got in further. He withdrew and pushed back in once more. Now, he was halfway in; she had no more defense, so she squeezed all she could. Then he was in up to the hilt and fucking her hard, loving her tight grip on his cock and marveling at her strength.

He roughly turned her so she was in a scissor position, one leg horizontal, the other vertical. He thrust harder, pulling her head back by her hair and rubbing his thumb on her clit.

Now, he got some moans from her. She shut her eyes and succumbed to the delicious feeling of being fucked hard.

It was an energetic coupling, forceful, even callous, as when he pinned her down or rudely shoved her onto her front and fucked her doggy-style, pulling her arms behind her back.

She responded with passion, keeping up the rhythm. When he lay heavily on her, she wrapped her legs over his back and breathed hotly in his ear.

They ended like this, him on top, plunging into her flat on the floor, grunting with the effort, the ripples of her orgasm triggering his final moment, splurging his cum into her tight twat while she moaned out her joy.

He grunted with his last contraction and lay still.

She got back her breath, happily taking his weight.

"That was fun," she said brightly.

"Glad you liked it."

"Let's do it again!"

"In a while. I need to recover."

"Really?"

"Really."

He pulled out and lay on his back. She leaned over and took hold of his cock.

"Oh, the poor little thing's gone soft."

"Give me half an hour."

"So, sex with a man is fifteen minutes of frantic action, and then you're useless to me for half an hour?"

"That's right."

"Interesting. Ash and I can fuck all night long and still be up for it in the morning."

"Good for you."

He sounded drowsy. She climbed on him, legs astride his waist.

"Come on, Ezra: no sleeping. I want to talk."

"Well, I need a pee."

He always relieved himself after sex, but there was no night bucket in the tent. He pushed her sharply off him and made her go outside.

"Where are you going? It's still raining."

"I know, but the stream will be warm."

"I'll come with."

The night rain had slowed and now fell in large drops. Though they had been hot in the tent, the rain quickly cooled them down, so it was a relief to lie naked in the warm water of the stream.

Ezra was ready to return to the tent, but Solange had another test for him.

"How long can you stand out in the rain?"

"I don't know. I've never tried."

"Try now."

"What for?"

"I bet you can't stay as long as me."

It was a silly challenge, but she got him to accept it.

"All right."

They stood on the bank, arms by their sides, exposed to the freezing drops, which started as the rain landed on their heads and shoulders and ran in icy rivulets down their backs. Their breaths steamed in the cold air and quickly lost their heat. Ezra thought he heard Solange shiver. He also tried not to shiver, forcing himself to stay out longer than her.

After five minutes, the cold became agonizing. Hunched over with folded arms, their teeth began to chatter.

After another three minutes, it became unhealthy. Another minute and Solange finally gave up.

"Shit!" she exclaimed and ran shivering into the tent.

Ezra waited half a minute to make his point, then ran after her. Solange wrapped herself in a blanket and rubbed herself to get warm. He got into the blanket with her, and they lay together, wrapping arms and legs around each other and rubbing their cold skin.

"God! That was stupid!" she said. "What were you trying to prove?"

"Me? It was your idea."

"Yes, but you didn't have to agree to it."

"I thought it was another one of your tests."

"It may have been. I test everyone. But how do you know what the test was?"

It was true: he had no idea what she was testing. Did he prove he could endure colder than her? So, what if he could? Did he prove he was foolishly competitive? Or did he prove that he would agree to any of her tests, however daft?

Ezra laughed at himself, pulled Solange onto him, and kissed her.

"Do you still want it?" he asked.

"Of course."

"Well, guess what cold does to my cock? You'll have to warm it up again in your mouth."

This was something new for her. She was keen to give it a try and, with some guidance, did a good job sucking.

Solange felt a sense of pride in getting him stiff just with her mouth. When he was full size again, she climbed on top and rode him slowly, giving herself a well-earned and gratifying climax. Then she turned around, faced his feet, and, leaning forward to give his cock a delicious stretch, found just the right spot for herself and rode him faster this time. He struggled to hold off until she had come again, and then he released joyfully, groaning and squeezing her waist tightly.

After breakfast, the herders started the long ride to the southern camp. Ezra rode with each of the four women to prevent the ponies from tiring too much. He finished riding behind Glynn and was relieved when the journey was over. His bottom ached, his thighs were chafed, and he was sure his balls would never work again. The girls seemed barely fazed by the grueling journey.

The small party arrived in sight of the southern camp late afternoon, descending from a small hill, casting eerie shadows over the short yellow grass the herd had flattened on their slow trek across the plain. A hundred or more cows were dotted about the shallow valley. Sleek and docile, they had shaggy red-brown hair with silly-looking fringes over their eyes.

As the riders approached the settlement, some of the cows looked up languidly, but most took no notice, drinking placidly in the stream or lying contentedly chewing the cud.

Solange was proud of the cattle and rode beside Glynn to point out their virtues to Ezra.

"Look at their handsome faces," she gushed.

"What kind of cows are they?"

"Highlands."

"Why are they called that?"

"No idea. We don't take them into the mountains."

"They look hardy."

"They are. They don't care how cold it gets and can stay in the rain all night. We lead them across the plain to find the best grazing, but they don't like it to be too hot during the day, so we always keep them from the water.

Sometimes, we take them to the forest edge to cool down in the shade."

"Do you lose many to heat-stroke?"

"No, very rarely. There are so many small streams and springs on the plain. It's a very careless cowgirl who can't find water for the herd whenever they need it."

"Over there," she indicated a meadow across the stream where two women on horseback were using their spears as cattle prods to guide six black-and-white cows into a fenced enclosure with a wooden shelter in one corner.

"That's one of our dairy herds. Friesian cattle. They're good for milk but are more tough. They always stay near the settlement, and the girls gather them each evening to shelter overnight."

By then, they were in the settlement. It had a ring of well-made huts around the campfire, with a long wooden shelter for the horses on the far side of the stream. Uphill, toward the forest, were small, tilled fields planted with potatoes, beans, and maize. The forest, which supplied wood for the huts and the campfire, was only a few hundred yards away.

He counted at least ten women and five girls. The children were bathing in the stream. Everyone else was at work. He'd never seen so much bustle in Samothea. Horses were being stripped of their blankets and rubbed down. The dairy herd was in its paddock and no longer plaintively lowering its protest at being moved. The campfire was preparing food.

To be continued