Barbarian 2 Page 6

  “Here you go,” I say, handing him his knife back. I don’t think I’ll be needing it with this guy.

  He smiles as he takes it and starts carving up our dinner. “The Sandroka are not nearly as beautiful as you,” he says. “Their jaws are square like rocks, not like your delicate features that make Cookie Monster’s soum sing to the heavens.”

  I drink my wine and lean back as he goes on and on. And on.

  I’d be lying if I said that I wasn’t enjoying it. I have always felt like my body looked like a boy’s. My aunt thought the same thing and she often told me. “You don’t look like a woman,” she would say. “Why don’t you stop going to the gym and I’ll take you dress shopping.”

  She would have been eaten alive out here.

  He breaks off a flat rock from the cave wall, places the cut up meat onto it, and hands it to me. My mouth waters and my stomach growls as I stare at it.

  It tastes even better than it looks and before long, my rock plate is empty and my sexy blue waiter is refilling it for me.

  He waits until I finish eating, completely stuffed, before he eats what’s left. I sip on my wine as I watch him eat. He doesn’t seem to be the scary monster that I thought he was. He’s sweet and thoughtful.

  He bites into the meat and some of the juices drip down his chin, making me groan. He’s focused on his food and I take the opportunity to really study him. His long blue hair is tied up into a bun on the top of his head. His neck is thick and strong, leading into his wide broad shoulders. He’s built like a tank but is as graceful and agile as a panther.

  His chest is massive. An enormous wall of muscle that makes me lightheaded. Arousal courses through me, settling between my legs and a soft groan escapes my throat.

  My eyes continue down past his thick carved abs to his animal skin loincloth. I’ve already seen what he’s packing, and although it terrified me at first, I’m starting to see him differently now.

  I picture his impressive thirteen inches and my pussy throbs its approval.

  “Alright,” I mutter, handing him the canteen of wine back. That’s enough of that.

  You know it’s time to cut yourself off when you start having sexual thoughts of a blue alien.

  Just go to sleep before you do something stupid.

  I curl up in front of the fire, trying to get as comfortable as I can on the hard rock. “Good night,” I whisper to my new roommate.

  He darts out of the cave into the rain. “What the hell?” I gasp, posturing up on an elbow.

  Was it something I said?

  He returns a few minutes later with an enormous green leaf in his hands. I watch in confusion as he shakes off the drops of rain and then drapes it over me. It’s soft to touch and feels surprisingly warm.

  “Thank you,” I whisper as I look up at him. He’s soaked with rain dripping down his hard muscles. I have to look away before I invite him to join me under the blanket. Wine always makes me horny.

  I bite my lip as I watch him wipe the rain off of his hulking body. He really is beautiful. If you’re into blue dudes.

  “You didn’t have to get all wet for me,” I say to him. That’s my job.

  “It’s Cookie Monster’s pleasure,” he says as he kneels down and strokes my cheek with the back of his strong hand. “You’re Cookie Monster’s mate.”

  It feels good to hear that so I don’t correct him this time.

  “Sleep like the barbatuwe in the trees,” he says softly before standing back up. He walks over to the exit of the cave and sits with his back to me, looking out into the dark night.

  I pull the soft leafy blanket up to my neck and arch my body so that I can see his strong back rising and falling with every heavy breath. He’s staying up to guard the cave. To guard me.

  He’s sweet. And sexy too, if I’m being honest.

  I drift off to sleep dreaming of blue abs.

  eight

  I wake up with a sore neck but at least I’m dry and warm. The nice, soft, leafy blanket has turned stiff and flat as if I’m lying under a big piece of cardboard. I push it off of me and sit up, rubbing the back of my neck.

  The fire is still going and the suns seem to be out.

  My blue protector is still sitting in front of the cave where he was when I fell asleep. Has he been watching over me all night?

  “Good morning,” I say, my voice thick and groggy.

  He turns and smiles, his face looking tired but happy.

  “Have you been up all night?” I ask, feeling terrible.

  He just shrugs. “Cookie Monster wanted to make sure that he wouldn’t come back.”

  “Oh,” I say, my eyes dropping to the ground between us. I forgot about him.

  He turns back away from me, dropping his eyes to his working hands. He seems to be making something out of sticks.

  “Are you crafting?” I ask with a grin.

  “Cookie Monster is making you a gift,” he says proudly. He turns, presenting a long bow in his hands. It looks just like the one he keeps strapped to his back. It’s beautiful. Long and sleek, carved out of wood with a tight string attached to the two curved ends.

  He even carved a flower into the handle.

  I’m speechless. Here I was dreaming of pancakes and pillows all night while he was sitting up watching over me and making me this thoughtful present.

  I take it and my heart starts thumping in my chest. I’m not sure if it’s from the nicest gift that anyone has ever given me or from the intense way that he’s looking at me.

  “I love it,” I say as I lift it up and flick back the taut string with my fingertip. “I’ve never shot a bow and arrow before.”

  “The noble Cookie Monster will show you how,” he says, running his hand along my forearm giving me goosebumps. “Arm straight.”

  “Maybe I can catch us some breakfast,” I say with a chuckle. I just know that I’m going to be an excellent shot one day. Maybe not at first but when I want to do something, I don’t give up until I’m the best at it.

  “Cookie Monster has something better than breakfast. Come.” He grabs his stuff and darts out of the cave before I can ask what it is.

  I follow him out, squinting from the light of the suns. It’s a gorgeous day and all of the rain clouds have disappeared from the bright blue sky.

  The big guy runs fast and I struggle to keep up. He stops on a dime in front of a waist-high plant with long yellow leaves the size of ironing boards that curve down to the ground. There are a dozen or so gray dildos sticking out from the middle of the freaky looking plant.

  “Here,” he says, snapping off one of the gray dildos and handing it to me. It’s a little early for whatever he has in mind.

  He takes one for himself and breaks it in half easily. He lifts one piece to the end and squeezes out the gel into his open mouth. He closes his eyes and moans as he swallows it down.

  “Eat,” he says when he finally opens his eyes and sees me still holding mine.

  “What the hell,” I mutter with a shrug. I try to crack it in my hands but it’s like trying to crack a rock. It’s then that I realize how strong this Cookie Monster guy must really be. He broke it easily.

  I try to crack it on my knee but all it does is leave my knee aching.

  He takes it from me and breaks it as easily as if he was snapping a dry spaghetti noodle. “Squeeze,” he says, handing it back to me.

  I open my mouth and try to squeeze the gel in but it’s too hard. I’m embarrassed that I don’t have the grip strength to do it.

  “Cookie Monster will help,” he says, taking it from me. It feels oddly sexual as I raise my chin with my mouth open, waiting for him to squeeze the gel out of this cock-looking thing onto my tongue.

  All of that is forgotten when the gel hits my tongue. It feels like a flavor grenade exploded in my mouth. I close my eyes and moan even louder than he did.

  We eat them all and I’m sad that they’re gone, even though my stomach is full.

  “It is the after-rain
plant,” he explains. “They only come up in the morning after a rainfall.”

  “Oh,” I say as I lick my fingers clean.

  “Cookie Monster loves them.”

  “Okay,” I say. This has to stop. “What’s your real name?”

  “The great and noble Saku Avery, gave Cookie Monster the proud name of Cookie Monster,” he says, raising his chin with pride as he speaks.

  “I think she was fucking with you,” I say. He wrinkles his forehead like he doesn’t understand. “She was just joking around.”

  He still doesn’t understand. It’s cute. He seems to be so convinced of Avery’s God-like power that he can’t comprehend that the name was given to him in jest. I really have to see what this girl has been up to.

  “What was your name before Avery gave you the name of Cookie Monster?” I just hope it’s not Big Bird or something worse.

  “Pontuck,” he says with a frown.

  “Huh.” Pontuck is good. Strong and fierce, just like him. It sounds like fuck. I like it!

  “I’m going to call you Pontuck, okay?”

  He shakes his head fiercely. “The swift and proud Cookie Monster likes the name Cookie Monster. The great Saku honored him with that name and he will keep it.”

  Fucking Avery. I’ll have to get her back for that one.

  “Fine,” I say with a sigh. “Which way, Cookie Monster?”

  He stands proudly with his shoulders drawn back and points towards the colorful forest. “That way.”

  We walk all morning through the colorful forest and to my surprise, I’m actually having fun. Pontuck is a fabulous tour guide. He explains all of the names of the bright flowers and freaky looking animals in the trees. It’s clear that he has a deep respect for the land and all of the creatures on it. I love to hear him talk about everything as we stroll along.

  It’s always bugged me how humans had turned their planet into a heaping garbage pit. We turned the ozone layer into Swiss cheese, polluted the oceans, lakes, and rivers, and chopped down our amazing forests to make tons of useless crap that we then tossed into the oceans, polluting them even more.

  It’s refreshing to see that Pontuck and his people don’t share this view. He honors the forest and respects the land and all of its animals.

  “Time to eat,” he says as we stroll passed a purple bush that has hundreds of tiny insects crawling all over it. He taps my new bow that’s strapped to my back. “You will catch it.”

  “Okay,” I say, feeling shaky nerves as I pull out my brand new bow. He hands me an arrow and points up to an ugly looking monkey-thing that’s high in the trees, swinging from branch to branch.

  “Hit him here,” he says, touching my heart with his big hand. It speeds up under his touch and my cheeks get hot.

  “Alright,” I say, clumsily placing the arrow onto the bow. My knowledge of archery is limited to the cartoon version of Robin Hood.

  He steps behind me, his warm breath tickling my neck, and gently guides my hands into the right positions. He smells good, like a smoky forest and it has me panicking at what I must smell like. I haven’t showered in over a week. But he doesn’t seem to mind. He gets in nice and close, pressing his muscular chest against my back.

  His strong presence feels good and I have to ignore the dirty thoughts creeping into my mind to focus on the bow and arrow in my hands.

  “Yes,” he whispers as he raises my arms with his gentle touch. My heart is beating so fast, my mouth moist. I want to drop the bow in my hand and turn into his embrace, letting him wrap those delicious arms around me.

  Focus, girl. Come on!

  I shake out the bodily cravings that are invading me and focus on the creature swinging through the trees.

  “See the arrow pierce his body,” he says, tilting my hand up until I’m in the right position. I hold my breath and release the arrow, letting it fly. It sails up towards the creature but dips too soon and pierces its leg.

  Pontuck moves so fast that all I see is a blur. He whips off his bow, pulls an arrow and lets it fly in one swift fluid motion. It plunges into the creature’s chest, killing him instantly before he can cry out from my failed arrow.

  Tears well up in my eyes as the dead body tumbles to the ground. I’ve never killed an animal before and I don’t like the feeling. I’ve killed aliens and tried to kill a dinosaur but all of those had it coming. It was in self-defense.

  I am the killer. I am the predator.

  Do predators usually cry after a kill?

  Pontuck rushes to where it landed and I quickly follow him. He takes a knee in front of the dead body and covers its eyes with his hand.

  A tear escapes my eye as I look at the animal’s peaceful face. He looks so harmless.

  I get even more emotional when Pontuck starts singing, low and beautiful. I don’t understand the words but they make my chest tight and my throat burn.

  It’s a beautiful intimate moment and I feel like I’m intruding until he takes my hand in his and gives it a gentle squeeze, pulling me down beside him.

  “What was that?” I ask softly when he’s finished singing.

  “The song of the hunter,” he explains, as he strokes the animal’s fur. “It must be sung or the creature cannot go to the Land of the Nevatrun.”

  “Will you teach it to me?” I ask, watching his hand moving on the smooth fur. If I’m going to be a hunter, I better learn their ways.

  “Of course,” he says simply.

  I place a hand on the bare skin of his muscular back. “Thank you,” I whisper. “For everything.”

  He turns and our faces are dangerously close. His stunning turquoise eyes are locked on mine as a raw and hot tension passes between us. His lips are within kissing distance and I’m tempted, God am I tempted, but it seems disrespectful over the body of the dead animal.

  I turn away with my chest heaving and my face flushed with heat, desire running through me like an unstoppable train. I swallow hard as I stand up and leave him to prepare our lunch.

  What is wrong with you?

  I wonder that as I turn back to him, stroking my throat as I watch him work. He’s not even my species. How could I be attracted to him?

  But look at those back muscles.

  How could I not?

  It’s the moment that I’ve been waiting for. Bath time.

  We stop in the late afternoon at a crystal clear river. I can see the tiny fish lazily swimming along the bottom over the small rocks. It looks like it’s straight out of an LSD hallucination with the gorgeous colorful trees swaying at the shore and the weird looking birds with the horns on their heads, floating down the river’s soft current.

  Pontuck has no hesitation. He just drops his loincloth on the ground and dives in. I get a quick glimpse of his hard ass before he disappears under the water.

  I’m not as much of an exhibitionist so I quickly strip down to my bra and underwear while he’s swimming below the surface. I jump in, letting myself sink to the bottom of the cool, refreshing water. Fuck, this feels good.

  I stay there, sitting on the cold rocks, shaking my hands into my hair to get out all of the dirt, caked on mud, and God knows what else from out of it. I wish I could stay down here forever where it’s peaceful and calm and nothing wants to eat me, but my lungs start burning so I’m forced to swim back up to the surface.

  My head pops out of the river and I tread water as I take in a beautiful breath of air. “Ew,” I say, swimming away as I see oil and dirt floating around me. I was even dirtier than I thought.

  Pontuck pops out of the water beside me and I let out a gasp. His dark blue hair is out of the bun and is draped down over his muscular shoulders. He looks different with his hair down. Equally good looking but different.

  I don’t know why but I have to touch it. He closes his eyes as I sink my hand into his hair and let it glide through my fingers. It’s softer than my hair or any other human hair that I’ve ever touched. It’s like silk.

  “Your hair is so soft,”
I say, touching it again. He lets out a groan in response. “I’m actually kind of jealous.”

  His sparkling turquoise eyes match the color of the refreshing water. He lowers them and frowns when he sees that I’m still wearing my underwear.

  “Why are you not naked?” he asks, tilting his head in wonder. “It is time to bathe.”

  I glance down through the clear water and gulp when I see his long package floating between us. This time it doesn’t scare me off. This time it makes my breath quicken and my skin flush. My fingers tingle with the desire to reach out and touch it.

  I’ve only had sex twice and both times were nothing to write to Playgirl about. But something tells me that with Pontuck it would be different. He looks at me with such intense desire and his body would definitely be fun to explore with my hands, lips, and tongue. He is a work of art if you don’t mind the blue skin, which I don’t. It’s actually kind of sexy.

  “Take off your strange animal skins,” he says, running his large hand through his silky hair, giving me a flash of his flexed tricep. “Bathing time is different than mating time. It’s two different things.”

  I don’t know why, but he’s starting to make a lot of sense. I can’t deny any longer that I’m attracted to him and for some reason I really want him to see my body. All of it.

  I reach behind my back with trembling hands and unclasp my bra. I always hated showing off my small breasts. They look so ridiculous with my large chest muscles but with Pontuck I can’t help but feel that it will be okay.

  Both of us are holding our breaths as I slide the bra down my arm, revealing my perky nipples. Pontuck doesn’t take his eyes off of them. His heated eyes are fixated on my breasts as his chest surges up and down, making little waves run away from him. A smile creeps across my face as I glance down into the water between us and I see his cock hardening.

  This time I don’t hold myself back. I reach forward and stroke it with my hand, making him groan. His strong hands grip my waist and I let him hold me up in the water with his strong kicking legs.

  He lifts me out of the water up to my stomach and his lips and tongue are on my breasts at once, licking and nipping at my tingling nipples. “Oh,” I moan as the electric sensation increases, making my swollen buds even harder. This is not normal but it feels so good. It almost makes me forget the huge cock in my hand.