Jen's Legacy.

She poked her head out into the cold morning; feeling that it was cold. The fire was blazing with the larger, partially-burnt logs moved deeper into it and with a pan of water heating by the flames, steaming and roiling. The snow was melting, and there was water dripping from the trees everywhere as the sun hit them. She could hear it, could even see the snow receding.

There was a small trickle of water falling from the rock wall above them, and Royce was standing in front, of it, not so far from the fire, and as naked as on the first morning, shaving again. She watched, always curious about what she could see of his body. When he had done that, laying his razor aside, he wet his hands in the cold dribble-- but nothing would be as cold as that river water-- to wipe across his body as though the cold did not affect him, but the way he breathed, showed that it did.

She studied him closely, just as she had on the first morning but without any concern for her own safety this time, seeing that he was careful not to get his hair wet or let that water touch his body directly.

She reached down behind her neck, where she knew her phone was, for safekeeping, and took some photographs of him doing that, feeling mischievous about it all. She had taken many such photographs without his knowledge.

How he could stand to do that in such cold water, she did not know. It must be one of those macho things.

She crawled out of the sleeping bag and sat on a log close by the fire to stay warm, pulling her shirt around her and putting his jacket around her too, as she watched him. She’d use the sleeping bag next to go around her if she needed it.

She shocked herself at the way she had allowed things to go between them over the last two days, never believing in a thousand years that she would have so casually put aside all of her moral upbringing, gradually got rid of all of her clothes—few as they had been once her swimsuit had gone—and then, after he had undressed her, and applied that soothing cream everywhere on her irritated body, and she meant, ‘everywhere’, had given herself to this man in such reckless abandon, as she had, by asking him to make love to her.

He hadn’t refused, but how could he, after she’d gone after him and removed his remaining clothing too?

It had to happen. She couldn’t have slept with anything on her poor body that evening, and she decided that if she was going to be naked, then so should he.

It hadn’t taken long for them to be locked together in a strange way after that, never able to get enough of each other. That was when her education had taken another major leap, when strange things had happened. Wonderfully strange things. She had never felt, or seen a man ejaculate before, and never onto her, nor had she wanted any man to go into her body as much as she wanted Royce to. But he wouldn’t take that final step, not wanting to hurt her, and that was why he had been sent to Insensitivity Training; to make him less concerned about that. But that had also been in her dream.

She looked around at the weather and where they were; tens of miles from anywhere.

They should not count on an early rescue with them now so far away from her last known position, but she was of two minds about being rescued after the last three nights, and what still remained to be done.

Her feet did not feel so painful either, and her muscles were stiff but would soon ease up with use, once they set out again, but neither of them was dressed for what had come at them last night.

He came back to the fire, wet and cold, wiping his bare hands down his body to sweep off that water, unashamed, unembarrassed, not concerned by his nakedness or what she could see of him as he came close to her.

He knelt in the sand in front of her, getting close to the fire, put his arms around her, kissing her again, touching her inside her shirt, as she swept her hands down behind him to get more water off him that he couldn’t reach for himself.

“Get warm on me Royce. You’ll soon warm up.” She still gasped and flinched when she felt his cold hands upon her warm breasts.

He was looking up at her in a way that had her heart doing handsprings.

“How do you feel? You slept well last night. Nothing was going to wake you up.” Had he tried to wake her up? It would have been easy to do. “I tried to keep you warm and off the ground.”

She held him close, rubbing noses with him as they kissed. “I slept better than I expected to, thanks to you, and you did keep me warm. I have just one sore spot.” She sat back from him to show him, to let him see, as she lifted her right breast, wanting to hear what he had to say, wanting him to touch her there too.

He leaned in to kiss her there.

“A little redness is all.” He lifted it gently and looked closer. An insect or spider bite; though”—he looked even closer— “it doesn’t look like a bite.” He kissed it again as he looked up at her and moved closer to her.“I may have caught you somehow, as we moved together, or something got trapped there against you as we slept, and it irritated your skin, but at least that heat rash from yesterday didn’t come back.” It had become too cold for that.

She almost hoped that rash would come back, so that he would do again, what he had done that evening as he’d touched her everywhere so intimately, putting that cream on her and between her legs.

‘A little redness’ sounded nothing like that crimson splash of a birth mark that Jen had under her breast in that dream, but it was in the same place. Maybe the discomfort of whatever had happened had provoked that thought. She’d had a door slam in a dream once, and it had woken at that same moment to find that that was what had happened in real life as well as in the dream.

She wanted to ask about Jen and if she’d had a birthmark, but knew that she’d better not.

He slowly backed away from her so she could feel the fire.

“I saw no tracks of our friend from last night in the snow, so he didn’t come back. It’s going to warm up like it was yesterday before that storm hit us, and the snow is going fast already but we don’t have to leave here for another couple of hours or more.”

“May I have your razor, Royce? And you should come closer to me please.”

He passed it to her as she indicated where he should be; between her legs, looking into her eyes as he held her at the waist. Once she started he would be able to touch her in other places too and with something other than his hands.

“You seem to miss some hairs under your chin, and on your neck, and your cheek was rough on my face and my breasts last night.” Even though she’d shaved him carefully earlier that previous morning in that pool. He would still have missed some.

He knelt, holding her legs as she tilted his head and swept at the hairs on his neck and under his jawline, going over where he had already gone, but had missed too much.

“Thank you.”

He leaned in to kiss her again. “That water is not too cold if you can stand it, and then you can come back to the fire, or we can get back into the sleeping bag and get warm together until the weather warms up again.”

She should wash herself, despite the cold. She knew that he would watch her doing that, and how it would affect him. She was already affecting him, and she needed to encourage more of that.

She remembered that dream. It probably had meant nothing, but she had nothing to lose if she chose to believe it. The sun was not so high, eight, maybe nine o’clock. Her watch confirmed it; eight-twenty. Noon was the deadline for them. Maybe!

She took off his heavier socks which had kept her feet warm all night and had protected them, put on her ankle socks again as he passed them to her, and her sneakers to protect her feet; less tender than they had been the night before, then stripped off her shirt with his help as he held her close to him and kissed her, holding her breasts, touching her gently between her legs behind her, then let her go out from the comfort and warmth of the fire as he watched her stand on the same flat rock he had stood on as he had washed, taking the cold water from that small trickle from above and washing all over her body with her hands, not letting any part of that drip touch her.

He watched her, just as she’d watched him, obviously feeling how cold it was, complaining of the cold in every way, then quickly washed all over her body again, and under and around her breasts.

She saw that he had picked up her phone and was now photographing her as she had photographed him, the devil! He must have seen her do that and decided to return the favor. She smiled.

She was there for no more than a minute, two at the most, before she rushed back to the fire to dry herself, shivering with cold, finding that he met her with his dry shirt, wrapping it around her, bringing her close to the fire into his arms, and using it to dry her everywhere, then left it around her, building up the fire even more, then stood up again and moved closer to her, kissing her upon her breasts; seeing goosebumps on them, especially in her areola, and the nipples were as erect as he was; and then upon her lips as he pulled her close to him to share his warmth now.

She had no intention of stopping him, no matter what he chose to do with her.

He sat her down on that log by the fire, and putting slight pressure between her knees moved her legs apart as she wondered what he intended--if it even mattered now--wetted her between her legs with warm water from the pan with his hand, smoothing it over her slowly, gently, playfully, and as she watched in utter amazement, he swept his razor down her to take off that hair, cleaning it from clogging his blade by sweeping it along his hand in a reverse direction and dropping the hair into the fire before he returned for another swipe, and then another until he had cleaned all of it from what he could easily get at.

“It’s in the way.”

She chuckled.

Nothing would get in his way once he made up his mind, and he was getting that way again at the excitement of what he was doing, but it was time that hair went, if he wanted it gone.

It was a proclamation that she was now his, and that he was marking his territory. Whenever he wanted to plant that stiff flag-pole of his, he could.

Soon she would be able to lay claim to that part of his too. She would return that favor and shave him soon, but now was not the time. There were other things to do after this, that were much more important.

He took as much of the hair off her that he could easily get at, and on either side of her vulva, as she put her legs as far apart as she could, leaning back for him as he stretched the skin in that narrow space. She watched him do that, and how delicately and carefully he did it, so as not to nick her

Once he’d finished, rinsing her off again to get rid of any loose hairs, and revisiting a few he’d missed, before checking several times again as he smoothed his hand over her and along her. He smiled at her then leaned in between her legs and kissed her in that same place, setting her senses swimming.

“Yes, that’s much better.” She could not help but laugh again. These were all strange rituals to her, but she needed to find out about them.

He rinsed her off again, then raised himself onto his knees and moved closer to her, aroused with what he had done for her so tenderly, leaving her in no doubt what he intended to do to her now, and that would be much less gentle or delicate, but had become even more necessary.

He mouthed at her nipples and her breasts as he moved her back.