The Meeting Point (18 page)

“Oh Marcus, Marcus, I'm coming. Come with me, meet me,” she cried out as a bolt of white light shot her into the sky where she crashed into Marcus, whose face was clenched in ecstasy. His cock rammed up into her very heart and she was stretched to oblivion, engulfing him in heat and drenching him in her love. His come was like the current of the river she'd fucked herself in the other day and she rode it hard. He shot his thick stream up into her depths and she roared as they slipped through the boundaries of their bodies and became one.

* * * *

“What the fuck are you doing?” Lena asked, and Mae furiously put her fingers to her lips.

“Shut up!” Mae whispered ferociously. “Just watch.” She turned her attention back to the gap in the bracken to watch the couple. “Oh my God,” she said, barely louder than a breath. “He's fucking her ass with his fingers. Oh my God, you can see everything. It's so fucking hot.”

Lena wasn't very comfortable with the idea of spying on someone, especially someone indulging in such an intimate activity, but when Mae pulled the curtain of greenery back with one hand and rammed the other between Lena's thighs, she couldn't resist a peek. It was indeed a hot sight to see wet flesh pounding into and around more hard, wet flesh. They had the perfect view of his cock plunging and stretching Deborah's red cunt while his fingers toyed and poked into her ass. Everything looked raw and slippery. Lena shuffled forward a little, and Mae quickly parted Lena's lips as she knelt in the mossy undergrowth and began to rub her off, roughly shoving three long fingers deep into her.

Lena looked at Mae who was enraptured by the scene, muscles twitching in her jaw and shoulder as she finger-fucked Lena. Lena felt her breath and strength leave her as her pussy convulsed hard and her clit swelled for attention. It was like she was frozen in time and place as sensations took her over, the fear of being caught watching, and the fantasy of what might happen if they were. It had always been like this with Mae. Always. Arousal heightened by the fear of being caught in an illicit activity.

Lena was an addict getting her fix. The thought stilled her. An image of being thrown in the air by people clutching a blanket emerged into her thoughts. That point, that point where you're no longer going up, but not yet coming down. Completely still. The eye of the storm. Just as the feeling—it was more than a feeling, it was a state of being—became almost a real thing, Lena had the strangest vision. Two people, she knew them, it was Marcus and Deborah, they had no barriers. They were creatures of light flowing through one another. In a flash, she was back on the forest floor, hunched and convulsing, moisture pouring from her cunt as she came over Mae's expert hands.

“Bloody hell,” Mae whispered, her eyes on fire with wicked arousal. “What the fuck was that? You've practically torn off my hand, you little fuck minx.”

And with that, Mae pushed Lena back into the ground and mounted her, grinding her pelvis into hers, hard, until she got her relief.

She flopped onto Lena, panting and laughing. “We're going to have to do a bit more sneaking about if that's what it does to you. That was fucking hot.”

* * * *

“Did you see that?” Deborah's head whipped around and the light of their orgasm dimmed as they descended back to the earthly plane.

“What?” Marcus drew Deborah into his arms and stroked her hair.

“Someone was with us.”

“What are you talking about? Where?” he mumbled drowsily into her neck.

“In ultimate unity. Someone was there. I'm sure of it.” Deborah was confused and a little disconcerted. Maybe she was just imagining things. After all, it had been a pretty eventful few days and she'd been so worried about Marcus. Who knew what stress could bring on?

“Are you sure it wasn't just my monumentally, unfeasibly large dick all up inside you, making you trip out?” He was using that dirty, growly tone he used to use when he was seducing her, teasing her, making her feel naughty. Scents of sex, sweat, and oxytocin rose from their skin, seeming to mist around them, and Deborah let her head fall into his shoulder.

“Mmm.” She nodded into his pec, breathing in his manly musk. “Yes, that would be what it was.”

But as she drifted off into a post-coital dose, she couldn't help feeling there had definitely been someone else there.

* * * *

Angelo had been gone most of the afternoon, setting up ingenious snares that he'd made from thin strips of sapling bark. He was met with huge joy from the camp when he came back swinging two fat bunnies from each hand. Later, they all sat as a group around the fire, inhaling the aromas of rabbit and nettle stew that Hazel was preparing.

“I'm so hungry, I can hardly bear it,” Mae wailed, groaning and clutching her stomach dramatically.

Angelo and Lena shared a look and smiled.
At least she speaks her mind
, thought Lena, wondering what it must be like to have that inner freedom. To have no self-censorship, or at least, not act upon it. It had always fascinated Lena. How could one person could be so open and at ease with who they were, their place in this planet, when others—that is, herself—were so highly strung and kept everything in? If only she could take a leaf out of Mae's book. How joyful to live with such abandon. Yes, it could be construed as selfish at times, but when she really thought about it, so what? What did being selfish mean, really? Wasn't every one ultimately selfish? Some were just better at disguising it than others. It was an interesting thought.

At last, the bowls were passed around and Lena saw how much it meant to Hazel to be nourishing everyone. It was the first time she had looked almost relaxed enough to smile. It must be so strange for her having to justify herself, apologize over and over for betraying Marcus and Deborah. Lena was pretty amazed at the way the couple had managed not to kill the bloody woman. Lena didn't know if she'd be so charitable if someone tried to take her lovers away. A pang of grief flashed through her at the thought of Angelo or Mae dying, and she left all alone, weeping over their graves.

The hot soup splashed over the edge of the shallow, wooden bowl and scalded her, pulling her out of her thoughts. Now who was being dramatic? She smiled at Mae and Angelo who were sipping the steaming liquid. Each of them, led by Angelo, had fashioned a bowl from bark and sharp stones over the past few days and at last it was time to try them out. They'd mainly been existing on fruits and edible leaves up until now, and everyone had begun to get a bit grumpy. This was like a feast from the gods.

The light was fading and Hazel put more wood on the fire, sparks jumping and spiraling into the gloom above. Lena felt contented and peaceful and moved over to her lovers, resting her head on Angelo's shoulder.

A crack in the twigs behind them made everyone jump. Angelo was the first to spring to his feet. He pulled a glowing branch from the fire.

“Who's there?” he commanded into the thick silence.

 

 

Something flopped heavily onto the ground just beyond the circle of the camp. Lena tried to hold Angelo back, but he shrugged her hand away and went over to the ragged bundle.

“Oh my God, it's a human,” he shrieked in panic, scooping up what lay before him and running to the fire where he placed it down carefully.

“Stop!” Hazel's voice rung out as she darted over to the unconscious, tiny figure, shoving Angelo away from it.

Lena held her breath, not knowing what to make of this twist. Who could have found them there? Her heartbeat seemed to pound in her ears and the whole camp froze in static silence.

“Don't touch it. We don't know what it's carrying,” Hazel said.

Lena watched Angelo's expression darken and his eyes turned ferocious. “Move out of my way,” he said with the calm of a man on the brink of fury, and a chill ran down Lena's spine. She liked it.

He was right, they had a duty to help this poor creature, whoever it was and however it got here. Her heart swelled as she watched her lover tenderly lift the filthy blanket, which gave the impression of a shroud, off the figure's face. A haunted female with sunken, rolling eyes and razor sharp cheekbones was revealed. The black pit of her mouth hung open with yellowing teeth and red, receding gums. Something in the tilt of the jaw seemed familiar. Lena thought she might throw up as she crawled toward the woman, reaching out to touch her. Her hand and voice were trembling as she swept a few limp strands of thinning hair off the woman's forehead.

“Cheryl?” she whispered. Her stomach curled as the woman's eyes swiveled into focus and appeared to stare at Lena briefly before rolling into the back of her head again. It was horrendous, and Lena clung on to Angelo's hand. He slung his arm around her shoulder and pulled her in close. Lena looked around to see Deborah with her hand covering her mouth in shock. “It's Cheryl,” Lena whispered as the tang of tears made her eyes smart.

“How did she find us?” whispered Deborah, falling to her knees and coming closer to identify her former slave.

As if the skeletal patient had heard, Cheryl's stick-thin arm fell from the blanket and her hand flopped open as it hit the forest floor. In a tumble of corroded and buckled metal, out fell the clockwork butterfly. Lena gently cupped Cheryl's hand in her palm and picked up the butterfly in the other, passing it to Angelo.

“It led her to us, Angelo.”

Angelo released Lena and took the crumpled creature with tears shining in his eyes. Lena stared in wonder at the almost corpse lying in front of her. What determination it must have taken to find her way there.

“Cheryl, Cheryl, can you hear me?” Deborah was with the woman now, soothing her brow and lifting her into what looked like a more comfortable position.

“I don't think you should be touching her,” Hazel said, frantically hovering around, wringing her hands, looking suddenly old and terrified. “You don't know what she's got, how it's spread.”

Lena's breath caught as she witnessed the change in Deborah. In one second, she could see The Wasp had returned. She spoke with that familiar edge to her voice, and Lena could only stare at the interaction.

“You need not be involved, Hazel. You may take your things and leave. I know this woman, and I will take care of her. If you don't like it...” Her voice lowered further and was full of menace as she continued. “...then you can fuck off.”

It was strange, Lena thought, how un-classy the words sounded. How she'd wished her former Mistress had not sworn. However, it seemed to have the desired effect on Hazel who just stood, meekly nodding and staring at Cheryl.

“Good, now get this woman some water,” Deborah said. Hazel scurried off to do as she was bid, and Deborah returned her attention to the patient. “Oh Cheryl, look at you, look at you. Why didn't you just come with us?”

While Deborah and Lena tended to Cheryl, the others worked together to make a shelter for her. Late into the night, as everyone else slept, Deborah told Lena to go to bed and get some rest. Lena had been fighting sleep for a long while and gladly took the woman's advice.

“Do you think we'll get sick too?” she asked in a whisper as she rose to leave.

“Maybe not...” was the only comfort on offer, and Lena dipped into the low front door of her bivouac, taking one last peek out to see the dying flames of the campfire flickering over the gaunt faces of her former lovers.

Lena squeezed in between Angelo and Mae, breathing in the scent of their sleepy softness. The little butterfly had been tucked into some twigs in the ceiling, and Lena's pride for her man swelled. She hoped Cheryl made it through the night. As sleep began to ease into her fizzing, speeding thoughts, Angelo's hand crept into her top and fondled her breast. She smiled into the darkness and suddenly realized that she had made love to all but two of the people in this camp. And the odd thing was, out of everyone, Lena was by far the least promiscuous. It was a strange thought, and she slipped into a hauntingly sexual dream where there were no bodies, only sensations.

* * * *

Days passed and slowly their visitor got a little stronger. Deborah managed to get Hazel to find herbs and make up poultices and medicines to ease Cheryl's condition. Lena had been amazed at the cooperation between the two women which slipped into gentle companionship at times. Lena could see that Hazel's remorse and faithfulness to Deborah was genuine, but she could also see that Deborah only let her guard down for brief moments at a time. So far, nobody else had become sick and Marcus's arm continued to stay infection free. Lena was beginning to feel peaceful and almost hopeful at last about the future of their little community. In the afternoons when Cheryl slept and the two sets of lovers retired to their shelters for love making, no one really knew where Hazel went to.

“Must be gathering potions or something,” whispered Mae when Lena had asked what she thought after a long, slow, sensual couple of slippery hours of oral sex. “Maybe she's away casting spells on us all to become her sex slaves.”

Something in her words made Lena shudder. Deborah had never spoken of what went on between she, Marcus, Hazel, and her man in the forest all those years ago, but she could sense it was something darkly sexual.

The days passed by slowly and languidly.

One afternoon, Deborah and Lena had managed to get Cheryl to sip some proper soup and thought she might be able to talk soon. Mae and Angelo had left hand in hand, under the guise of going for a walk, but Lena knew they were determined to find out where Hazel went every day.

When everything was silent, apart from the soft noises of the forest, Cheryl suddenly spoke.

“It's all gone, Mistress,” she wailed, despair in her dark eyes. Tears fell onto her cheeks and she sank back down into Deborah's arms. “I don't know what we could have done. I just don't know.” She sobbed and shook into Deborah's embrace.

Deborah just cradled and soothed her, telling her it was okay. “It's not your fault, Cheryl,” she whispered over and over again, and Lena thought what a wonderful mother she would have made if things had been different.

A huge knot of emotion welled in Lena's chest. Hadn't she been meant to resurrect mankind? Didn't she have the power to boost fertility? Guilt landed heavily on her shoulders, and as Cheryl fell back into a deep sleep, Lena talked to Deborah of her special purpose.

“I was meant to reignite male fertility. I was meant to help save this place, but I squandered it. You're right, it wasn't Cheryl's fault. It was mine.” She remembered the shock when the Archmatira had told her of her rare pheromone and how it would be harvested and used on donor sperm. To be told you are one of the only hopes for the future... Lena suddenly felt like that was a very long time ago.

When she finally looked up to get advice from Deborah, she was horrified to see the woman laughing. Hard.

“It's true,” Lena said defensively, angry at being made to feel stupid about her own history. “I didn't fucking ask for it.” Lena knew she was acting like an idiot now, but the impotence of the whole situation and the guilt of having potentially been part of the solution made her incapable of being gracious. “Fuck you,” she said when Deborah still laughed, wiping tears of mirth away with her wrist. “It was true. Fuck you.”

Deborah reached out to her and grabbed her arm, trying to stop the uncontrollable giggle that had taken her over. “Please, I'm not laughing at you. I'm not,” she said, still holding tight to Lena who was trying to make moves to leave. “I'm just amazed at the situation. I'm astonished at who we have here in this camp. It's like a utopian dream team. I've been trying to work out why we're all here, what do we bring as individuals to this quest, if it is a quest, for a cure, or...oh, I don't know. And every time I think
shut up Deborah, you're a scientist, there's nothing but coincidence. You weren't brought here by some magnificent force to save the fucking world, you fucking megalomaniac
, something like this happens.”

“Like what?”

“Like you reminding me that you're some sort of fucking pheromone savior, and Cheryl showing up to confirm our fears about the outside world. I don't believe it.”

She was shaking her head, still smiling and looking down at Cheryl whose eyes fluttered lightly through their lids.

“I mean, there's Angelo who makes these homing butterflies—which are scientifically unfeasible, I might add—that brought Cheryl to us. Anyone else with the disease, we may have cast out or not used as much energy and resources to help, but because it was Cheryl, we pulled out all the stops to try and make her better. She's a research case right here.”

Lena was enraptured by the woman's enthusiasm for her theory, even though it was tinged with skepticism, like the woman was at a loss as much as she was delighted at figuring out the fateful jigsaw puzzle.

“What about ultimate unity?” Lena asked.

Deborah stopped dead at the question and stared at Lena. “What do you know about that?” she asked, half cautious, half excited.

“I'm not sure. It's something to do with a transcendent sexual state where you can fuck with your souls or something.”

“Sounds ludicrous, right?” For the first time, Deborah looked self-conscious and unsure of herself.

Lena paused, remembering the feeling when she'd been spying on Marcus and Deborah with Mae's fingers stuck deep into her cunt. “I don't know. Maybe not.”

Deborah's eyes opened wide in amazement. “You mean...did you... Was that you the other day?”

Lena nodded once and a special silence and understanding hung in the air between them.

Just then, Mae and Angelo came rushing back from their walk, rather earlier than Lena had expected. Who knew what might have happened between Deborah and her through that spell of revelation? Lena shook herself and rose to meet her lovers.

“Lena, you have got to see this,” Mae said excitedly and hooked her arm through Lena's, leading her quickly away in the direction from where they had just come.

Deborah twisted around to give Lena a wink as she left—like they had an understanding of things now. Lena turned her energy back to her lovers who were running ahead, motioning for her to hurry up.

“For fuck's sake, Lena, come on!” Mae grabbed her sleeve and pulled her along, stumbling among the roots and undergrowth. Excitement bubbled in Lena's chest the deeper into the forest they went, and suddenly Mae and Angelo came to a halt.

“Shh,” whispered Angelo, holding her back with his palm as he kind of stooped. They were now tiptoeing slowly through some pretty thick woodland and Lena hung back just a little, even though excitement had her heart racing.

A strange sound, slightly muffled by the greenery, made Lena squeeze Mae's hand. Mae looked back at her with one of her sparkling ‘I'm up to something' looks and laughed out loud. Angelo stared with a thunderous grimace that told her to shut up, sending Mae into quiet giggles.

“Mae, please.” Angelo looked furious, and Lena was actually a little taken aback until she heard the tell tale quiver of laughter in his voice. “Come on, shut up! We don't want to disturb them.”

“Disturb who?” Lena had assumed they were going to watch Hazel bathing or something, but the use of the plural had her thinking it was a group of animals or something. Deer perhaps? Oh, how she would love to see deer again. Flighty, delicate things.

“Well...” Angelo smiled broadly, his teeth, gloriously white, filling his face with the same sparkle that reached his eyes, and drew back the lower hanging branches of a lime tree.

There, grunting and heaving, was an older man, tanned and lithe, with his cock in his hand wanking himself off to the sight of Hazel's striped backside as she hung between two trees.

“Holy fuck!” Lena clamped her hand to her face and giggled as Mae turned to her with a warning glare. “What the hell? Who's that?” she whispered when Angelo and Mae let the branch fall back into place and crept to sit beside her.

They still had a view of the couple albeit speckled through the lime leaves. Lena, again, wasn't sure how to feel with another voyeuristic episode looming large.

“We think it's her bloke. You know, the one she said was leading us to the safe zone.” Angelo spoke to Lena, but his attention was on the couple. Lena blushed a little when she remembered asking him to tie her up and fuck her—brand her with his love. Then she blushed harder at the memory of the time Mae had tied her to a tree and lashed her soundly to orgasm. The memories of then and the sounds and sights of now made Lena's groin yearn.

“It's pretty fucking hot to watch. You should have seen them earlier on—she can take a whipping all right,” Mae said, casting a sly glance, making Lena aware that they must be sharing a memory. “She was so ready for it after that, he could have fucked her with his whole arm.”