The Fern Tender (2 page)

     His adrenalin surged and a burst of adventure and discovery ensued. He knew this feeling and had it many times during the first six months of dating his wife. But that feeling had ebbed long before they were even married. The flow of novelty came flooding back to him though at the sight of the words up against a stranger’s pussy, here in the alley.

    She couldn’t stand it any longer and reached down and touched the center of her power, stroked the wetness a few times and rolled the statement on panties down her legs. She let them dangle around her ankle over the strap of her sandal. Wasting no time, she pushed his face down to her humid folds, forcing him him to his knees. Turning around she bent over clutching the drainpipe coming down from the roof with one hand and threw her dress up to her shoulders with the other. Instinctively he dug his mouth into her undercarriage with enough force that she had to grab the drainpipe again to steady herself.

     Her soft valley tasted like a ripe fruit. He frantically lapped at her juices not allowing one drop of her to go to waste.

     Leaving him to indulge, she let her mind go blank letting the sensation of his tongue across her groove overwhelm her. He provided no pattern or rhythm for her work with just a starving mouth. She wanted his enthusiasm everywhere now, and bent her knees channeling his flickering tongue onto her the rim of her ass. Now, positioned directly over his face she took her fingers and pressed her engorged bump. It only took a few swipes of her hand to feel the rush of the orgasim across her body and shoot through her brain. He pulled his dripping mouth away long enough exclaim, “Oh-my-God.” She knew she could have had another three of these in the next few minutes one-after-the-other, but she couldn’t stand the anticipation and hope of a huge throbbing cock beating inside of her.

     Bracing the palms of her hands on the street, she leaned her shoulder into the middle part of a rusted metal container in the alley allowing him access to all of her depth. He hadn’t even noticed his jeans were still buttoned. Unlocking himself, he wasted no time fully engaging her wet underside. Plunging himself deeply into her he grabbed at her shoulder and held it in place steadying her for what he wanted to give her. “Something she’ll never forget,” he thought to himself. 

     Now, surrounded by her insides, he could feel her pulses closing in on him. Using the grip of her walls to make him feel as full as possible, she sighed aloud. He didn’t notice. She knew that flexing her pussy was her last resort for simulating a thick long cock so she’d have to get even more creative. “Another medium,” she thought to herself. She relaxed and let him have her for a minute. For all the pounding and thrusting he was providing, her mind drifted to her next move.

     She knew from his cadence and from the frequency of his sweat dripping on her cheek, it wouldn’t take him long to finish. Shifting her weight to one side she picked up her hand from the street and slid two fingers alongside his throbbing piston. The penetration of her fingers and his cock together gave her the brief illusion of feeling full. It drove her closer to another climax.

     Cuming again wasn’t the goal, being filled up was most important to her. Wasting no time getting sidetracked, she ran the cream soaked fingers over the entrance of her ass. And in anticipation of him, pushed the rest of her damp fingers deep inside her hole. Pulling them out she immediately lurched forward to disengage him, and then quickly stepped back into him with one motion. He never suspected the move. She didn’t ask him, and didn’t give him any time to react, she was now gripping and holding his manhood with her vice.

     Needing all of him desperately, she backed her muscle into his cock making sure she they were connected.  Now fully committed, she focused on relaxing. Breathing deeply and, keeping calm, letting her entrance fully develop and open up for him. From experience, she focused now on her breathing and easing the feeling of being slightly impaled. Figuring right that he may not have been in a woman’s ass before, she knew he would just keep pumping in and out of just like it was a pussy.  And that’s exactly what he did. Just like an Energizer bunny back and forth, back and forth. Once her body adjusted to his size and thrusting a deep wave of fulfilled satisfaction rolled across her mind and body.

     He was surprised at how different it felt than he had imagined. Long ago when they were still dating in college, his wife declared anal sex off limits. He’d been with plenty of other girls before that but it never lead to this. The bouts of late night porn he watched when his wife was asleep didn’t prepare him for the physical or mental sensation. Her tight ring sliding along his shaft contrasting with her emptiness whenever he drove into her deepest part overwhelmed him. Joined to a stranger's body, he felt truly intimate with her and unlike the process of getting here he now also felt in control. Reacting to his every push into her, she had truly ceded all power to him. She indulged herself, intoxicated by his thick penetration. She was at his mercy now. He was taking her.

     Their union didn’t last long enough for either of them. Wrapping his arms around her and locking his hands together beneath her bent torso, he let out a quivering moan. She could feel his body temperature splash deep inside of her, prompting her to let go of the climax she’d saved for his signal. They both gently collapsed against the brick wall, and allowed themselves to bask in the selfish satisfaction they had just created together.

    After a few minutes, reality at all levels came roaring back. They popped up and silently began the process of collecting their clothes. Once dressed, she paused for a second, then squatted down, bunched up her skirt, looked up at him and peed. She always had to pee after sex. It amused her how this either grossed out men or turned them on. It was just pee. In this case, she could tell this was grossing him out. “Three minutes ago his cock was in my ass shooting cum inside my colon,” she thought. “And taking a pee was gross to him?” Fine. She would revel in it then, she kept hosing off the alley with her pussy looking him in the eye with a smirk. It was too much, all of it was just too much for him. He politely turned his head and tried to give her some privacy.

     She threw her panties in her purse,and they made their way back down the alley. He was silent and she knew confused too. He’d be that way for a long time. With any luck though she thought, he’d let the guilt overtake him sooner rather than later. Just go home and tell your wife and spare the agony in your marriage. Explain you just fucked a stranger in an alley. Whatever time he choose to tell though, she knew his marriage would be better in the long run for it. They’d finally have to talk through the rift that developed between them after the babies and all the hard work building their lives she sensed from the phone call back at the table. They’d probably survive it. His wife would probably forgive him, most of them did. Not even running any probabilities in her head, she could tell their marriage and sex life would be better off for this.

     At the end of the alley she squeezed his hand, gave him a slight kiss on the cheek, and pressed her forehead to his. She hit his butt with the palm of her hand just like she’d seen on Sportscenter in her room at the Capital and commented, “Give it hell.” He stared. Turned, and did his best walk imitation towards his car. And just like the jaguars, she watched his back move from the dark into the sun. She let him pass straight into the new life that she allowed.

     She threw her purse in the car and took her panties back out of it. She scrunched them up and waded them into the crack of her ass. Then she sat down on them in the drivers seat. She had learned this was a better way to keep sperm off her car seat after quick anal sex during a long drive back to the Colony. Nothing was worse than sitting on farty used cum and grinding it into the fabric of her car seat. At least this way she had a larger net to catch it when it fell out of her. Sperm on her car seat was one of few hang ups she’d acquired during her trips to the capital. Not that anyone would, but if they were ever to run a black light inside her car it would have lit up like a an old Kiss poster from the era of President 393. She hated black lights, and heard Kiss only once on the Capital radio and hated it.

     The Capital issued her a pretty basic car. A white nothing interesting c-a-r, and she drove it according to the speed limit away from the politics, hipsters, college kids, professionals, and then further on past the suburban vortex of big box stores and flowing subdivision entrances. Later, and on cue it all gave way to fields and pastures, farms and row crops. The massive truck stop at the last cotton field was her place to turn South on the highway opposite the North turn the interstate made. She liked seeing the South sign, it was always the first outside reminder of the Colony and her obligation to the ferns.

     It was here, every time, that her body began to feel closer to home, to family, and to her life. The road changed into two lanes and ran itself parallel to the river that began as a trickle in the Tundra thousands of miles to the North, a place far away and beyond her comprehension. The river was wide, sporty, and undammed here though and then became slow and lazy for the last 250 miles past the cliffs at the entrance to the Colony.

     1200 years ago here alongside the highway between the Capital and the Colony, President 001 built and established the largest Marine base in the world at the North Face of the mountains. Not to keep the Colonists out, but to leave them be, and to protect them. The first president, after the collapse and reset - the blood, the evil, the battles, understood the importance of the Colony. Every president since had also upheld his secret obligation to keeping the Colony undisturbed.

     At the field beyond the apartments, was where the radio stations stopped. No more President 441 radio, or 442 radio, or her favorite President 389 radio station. The radio wasn’t the only thing static at this point. The Colony was up ahead - it was static for hundreds of generations, the Capital behind - it was static with greed and politics.

     Once past the base, the road turned to a lonely one lane track and traced through miles of deep gorge. The forest grew darker and thicker the further she drove. The river slashed down into the ring of mountains severing the Colony from the modern world.

     Finally, the guard post appeared. Chris, the “guard” ran out in the middle of the road to meet her. “Hi Lillian! Going home?” he was excited. It had been 3 days since someone last drove through the entrance to the Colony.

     “Yep, Chris. Me again. Long time no see, at least 3 days man,” she humored him.

     They liked their isolation jokes. It was really all Chris had. The Capitol assigned him this position after a feature in the Times about veterans with Purple Hearts not being able to find work. He’s been here with his family, living in a no man’s land in between two worlds for the last 11 years.

     His kids poured out into the lane. She stopped the car and gave fist bumps to all four of them. Chris’ wife ran out and gave her a jar of her speciality, canned stewed cherries. Thanking her and telling everyone bye, she drove on. She reflected on the times his wife had been away and she could have settled for Chris under the palms by the river shoals. That would have gone against one of her own few rules she'd made for herself though - never with someone you would see again. Telling herself that she really hadn’t broken that rule recently, she changed the subject in her mind.

    The river forced the lane up against the gorge wall, now it was almost at sea level even though it’s final exit into the Gulf was still 250 miles away. The cliffs towering for tens of thousands of feet over the trees, higher than the Himalayas making this part of the drive a perpetual shadow accept for the hour or so a day when sun aligned perpendicular to the river bed. The ease of driving into something so important to the world really was a joke, she thought to herself. Moving on, at the true border, the shadow of the gorge merged into the Southern face of the cliffs and the rain, sun, humidity of the Colony began. Passing underneath the stone pillars given to the Colony by President 46, she let her mind wonder what her husband was cooking for dinner tonight.

     At dusk, she pulled into the driveway. The crunching of the oyster shell Colony road finally gave way to silence. Adjusting her thoughts for her re-entry to home, she took a breath and hopped out of the car. Peeling her panties out from underneath and holding them lightly out to her side between her thumb and forefinger, she shut the car door, and walked into the house.

     Their house was like everyone else’s in the Colony’s village, simple and cozy with 1x6 planks on the outside, a moss covered roof, and porch that wrapped around all four sides. Her husband and daughter were in the backyard behind the house his family built 800 years ago. They were tending their citrus trees while the soup on the stove simmered. This was her favorite coming home scene, and here they were. Beautiful people, beautiful family, taking care of her wonderful fruit.

     After loving them with her eyes for a moment, she tossed her panties on the bedroom floor, and immediately ran the shower. Not waiting for anyone to greet her, she was ready to wash the stray parts of the coffee shop off her body. Taking a hot shower was the last step to her re-entry ritual. She hated baths. The other women in the Colony never went anywhere and had to use their bathtubs and the baths like a drug. Quick hot showers were fine for her. ‘No need to waste all that time being with myself in the bathtub when I can the be with the real thing,’ she always justified.

     David, her husband, could hear the singing from kitchen. It was a song he’d heard her sing before, The Hallelujah song he recalled. Her pitch and soft enunciation of Jeff Buckley’s version was just as perfect as her naked wet body. He accepted her role as the Colony’s only Fern Tender, and the responsibilities that came along with it. Her trips to the Capitol, knowing about music, being aware of news and the world beyond the ring of mountains was probably no different he thought than all the other Fern Tenders that came before Lillian.