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  Elsie feels so deliciously exposed, spread wide open and bare, with her back pressed against the door. She can feel how wet she’s gotten in just the few minutes John’s held her like this. John looks at her, she gets wet. He says her name, she gets wet. John exists, she gets wet. She’s torn between wanting him to fuck her hard and fast, she’s so close to cumming, and wanting him to torture her by teasing her and making her wait.

  John’s hands move slowly down to cup Elsie’s sex, his fingers dancing through her folds and into her hole. They begin to slide slowly, deliciously, torturously, back and forth, teasing her, taking her higher and higher. Finally his fingers clasp tightly on her clit and then pluck it. His mouth consumes hers, plunging his tongue in, stroking her mouth, her lips, her teeth. He sucks her lips as he pulls on her clit, the sensations send shock waves through her. His mouth makes a fiery trail down to her breast, his lips mimicking the movement of his fingers to her clit on her nipple. His lips grab and pluck her pebbled points, moving back and forth from one to the other. He grabs a mouthful of her breast as his hand shifts to push one finger inside her sheath while another presses against her back hole.

  “Oh my God, John…,” she moans as her head falls back against the door making a dull thumping sound again.

  He hungrily feasts on her breasts, his fingers pushing into both of her holes as they greedily suck him in. The incredible sensation of fullness consumes her, making her mind explode. She begins to ride his hand as he’s fucking her with his fingers, trying to get what she needs.

  “Fuck, Elsie, you are incredible,” he growls, wiggling his fingers inside her.

  “Oooooooh,” Elsie lets out a long moan as John’s fingers and mouth take her to a place of erotic delirium.

  “Angel, the things I’m going to do to you,” he rumbles against her skin.

  His hand leaves her for a moment as he undoes his pants and pushes them down to free his straining cock. Holding her hands firmly above her head once more, he slides his other hand under her ass.

  “Wrap those beautiful legs around me, Baby Girl. I’m going to fuck you now,” he says through clenched teeth.

  Elsie raises one leg to curve around John’s waist as he lifts her from the ground with the hand under her ass. She raises her other leg to wrap him in their grip, as she slides her wetness over him. John’s mouth sucks in one of Elsie’s nipples and he slowly slides into her.

  “Yes, Oh God, John,” Elsie moans.

  He begins to move her on him slowly, deliberately and deeply. His teeth clasp onto the nipple in his mouth. She screams and pushes herself down on him.

  “PLEASE!” she yells.

  John lets go of her hands and takes her clit between his fingers.

  “OHGODOHGODOHGOD,” the continuous moan escapes her as she pulls John to her with her legs, slamming them both against the door.

  He can feel her walls milking his cock, sucking his orgasm from him as she cums all over him.

  “Yes, Angel, fuck me, take it all,” he grounds out.

  He wraps both his arms around her ass and grinds her to him as he pounds himself to climax. The sound of their naked bodies slapping against each other pushes them to new heights, fueling them, building the crescendo of their explosion. Their bodies bang the beat of their passion against the door for everyone to hear outside.

  When the last waves of their orgasm roll off them, John leans against Elsie on the door, as they both catch their breath.

  “Angel Girl, I am so screwed,” he whispers against her cheek.

  “Me too, Big Fella, now take me to bed,” Elsie purrs against his neck, while wrapping herself around him tightly.

  “Gladly,” he says with a smile, and lifts her, pressing her tightly against him to walk her to her bedroom. He pulls the blanket back with one hand as he holds her with the other, then lays her down softly. He pulls the blanket up over her naked frame then bends to kiss her.

  He stands and leaves her, only to return a moment later with a wet cloth in his hand.

  “Here, Baby Girl, let me clean my cum from you.”

  The request makes her sex clench, and her breath catch as she pictures his cum dripping from her.

  “I love to see my cum oozing out of you, Angel, fuck!” he growls quietly.

  John is sitting on the side of the bed holding Elsie’s legs open in front of him. His eyes are eating her up, while his fingers tantalize her folds and her hole.

  “I’d better stop before I can’t,” he rasps out. “Good night, Baby Girl, sleep well,” he whispers smiling down at her as he strokes her hair.

  “I will, Mountain Man, you too,” she says, as she takes his hand and holds his open palm against her mouth, kissing it.

  His hand cups her cheek. He bends to kiss her lightly once more. Then he stands, turns and walks out the door, closing it behind him.

  Elsie is a mix of emotions. Her body is humming with passion and satisfaction, but her heart hurts from missing him already.

  *

  Good morning, Angel, I just wanted to say that I miss the feel of you. I still smell you in my bed and I’m imagining your beautiful pussy wrapped around my cock…

  “Holy fucking shit! He’s going to be the death of me,” Elsie exclaims, her voice raspy with sleep and desire.

  Her body instantly comes alive when the words from John’s early morning text light up her phone. A shiver runs through her as her nipples harden and scrape against the fabric of the sheet, and her hips squirm from the throbbing in her loins.

  Good morning, do I smell good? she giggles shyly as she types the words on the white screen and hits send.

  Her phone immediately pings with a reply.

  Absolutely fucking incredibly delicious, I woke up with a raging hard-on ;) John replies.

  Elsie is quickly approaching full-blown horniness. Her breasts are aching and she can feel the wetness spreading between her legs.

  What did you do about it? she asks feeling incredibly naughty.

  I squeezed my dick and thought of your lips wrapped around it until I almost came all over myself.

  “Holy shit,” she whispers as she starts to rub her legs together.

  When can I have you again, Angel?

  The words on the phone screen wrench at her heart.

  “Come and fuck me right now,” she whispers in response to his words.

  Instead she replies, Soon.

  Now wouldn’t be soon enough, Angel, I’m addicted to you.

  “Oh God, me too, John…,” she groans as she throws an arm over her eyes. “And I don’t know what to do about it.”

  Feeling completely frustrated, Elsie kicks the covers off and gets out of bed. She puts the kettle on for her morning tea then uses the bathroom while she’s waits for it to boil. She glances at the clock and is a little surprised to see it’s already 8:00, she usually never sleeps past 7:00. Her weekend at John’s felt like a mini-vacation. Having the best sex of her life was the icing on the cake. Hell, even if she’d had lots of experience, there is no doubt in her mind that sex with John, and sex with John and Brian, is...well, they are in a class by themselves, nothing can compare to them. It was so incredible that every time she thinks about it, she breaks out in a sweat, her heart pounds, her mouth goes dry, and she is incapable of forming a coherent thought.

  After preparing her cup of tea she boots up her computer. She hasn’t checked her e-mail since leaving home on Saturday morning so she feels completely disconnected. To be honest, it actually feels pretty good to unplug. Elsie scrolls through her e-mail, deleting all of the junk crowding her inbox. She sees something different and realized that it’s a response to one of her job inquiries. She opens it up and starts to read it.

  Hi Elsie,

  Thank you for sending your resume’ in to us. As a matter of fact, we are looking for a wardrobe supervisor. Could you come in this morning at 10? It’s a little crazy here, so I apologize ahead of time if you have to wait a little while. Your credentials look amazing. Can’
t wait to meet you.

  Jo McCafferty, Production Manager, Under the Dome

  “EEEEEEEEEEK!” Elsie lets out a squeal of delight and bounces up and down in her chair, clapping her hands.

  “Freakin’ Under the Dome!!! That is so cooooool!” she yells out to no one at all.

  She quickly types out her reply, stating that she will be there at 10, and can barely sit still long enough to get it all written out.

  “Chill out, girl, you’ve been on other big productions, you’ve so got this!” she reassures herself,trying tocalm down.

  Elsie sends the e-mail, chugs her tea, then makes a beeline for the shower.

  “Holy crap, what am I going to wear?” she exclaims pulling her clothes off on her way there.

  CHAPTER 10 John’s past…“In the Fields the bodies burning as the war machines keep turning. Lyrics, “War Pigs” by Black Sabbath

  “I hate this fucking place,” John grunts as he walks through the depressed Indian Reservation that his family called home. The structures, like his life, are crumbling around him from years of neglect.

  Family, that’s a fucking joke, the words pass through his mind like poison in his veins. Whenever he thinks about family, rage and disgust fill him. He doesn’t know who his father is. John assumed he was just some john that his mother had years ago when she was still beautiful, before the booze and drugs seduced her into their clutches.

  Hah, that’s probably why she named me John. The sick irony from the realization brings bubbles of laughter bursting from him, until he’s bent over in a fit of hysterics.

  Holy shit, my mother named me after a trick, talk about a totally fucked life! I can’t even have my own identity. That’s so fucked up, it’s hysterical!

  “John! What’s wrong with you?” booms the somberly powerful voice of the tribal chief, Standing Bear, or Billy, his birth name.

  “I just realized that my mother must have named me after one of her tricks,” he laughs aloud. “She damned me to a fucked up life since the day she started self-destructing!” he howls in laughter.

  Smack!

  John is quickly sobered by the hard slap across his face from the chief.

  “Do not speak of your mother like that, John. She’s your mother first and always. She was tormented by evil spirits that made her live life the way she did, do not blame her.”

  The chief’s voice is very low, but his words resound like a yell within John’s mind.

  John stands stoically, staring at the chief, torn between wanting to cry and wanting to scream. But he can’t do either one. Today’s his eighteenth birthday, he’s a man now, and men don’t cry. Instead he shoves all of the rage, and anger, stemming from a lifetime of pain, back down deep inside him, locking it away. He stands tall, squares the shoulders on his tall lanky frame, and the mask of calm reserve, which he’s nearly perfected, slips back into place.

  “I’m sorry, Chief Standing Bear, my behavior is disrespectful and I am ashamed,” he bows his head in a show of regret and respect to the only person in the world that he admires. The old man stands in front of him, his wrinkled and weathered face a comfort to his lost soul.

  “Come with me John, it is apparent that you are being attacked by evil as well,” Chief Standing Bear says as he places his hand on John’s back, then leads him towards the outskirts of their reservation. The chief seems to be communicating without words as they pass others on their walk, and they begin to join them. Lost in his thoughts, John is barely aware that they have arrived at the ceremonial grounds until the chief guides him into a fabric-covered dome structure. From his upbringing on the reservation, John realized that they were in a sweat lodge and his apprehension began to mount.

  “Sit here, my son, let me cleanse you and ease some of your pain,” Chief Standing Bear tells John, as he spreads a woven mat on the dirt packed floor of the mud hut.

  John sits and lets his eyes close. He’s so tired. He’s tired of this shitty life, he’s tired of living, he’s tired of hurting, but most of all he’s tired of being angry all of the time. Angry at himself, his mother, his unknown father, and angry at God. No young man should ever have such a deplorable life. For as far back as he could remember, he was watching out for his mother, always nearby waiting to take care of her. Even before he was old enough to go to school, on those nights when a trick would turn violent, leaving her sobbing, half-naked, and used up. After the men left, his mother told him to never come out until they were gone, he would leave of his hiding place and soothe her. He would wipe her tears away, telling her how much he loved her, then go and fetch cool towels for her welts and bruises and clean out any open wound.

  He doesn’t remember when that undying love turned to resentment and then to rage. Eventually, he couldn’t even look her in the eye anymore as she slipped deeper and deeper into the bottle and the needle. He would find her passed out in their filthy shithole of a trailer with a tourniquet still tied around her arm or leg and a bottle of vodka spilled all over the floor next to her. When she finally woke up, with her legs wide open and her bare used up sex hanging out, she would be pissed off because she spilled her ‘juice’, not at all ashamed that her only son had found her like that.

  She’s dead now. John buried her today, on his birthday, and he never thought he could hurt any worse than he had his whole life…but he was wrong. Losing and then burying his mother was agonizing torture. His mind had gone from guilt, to anger, and now a sadness that he never thought would end. He wanted to throw himself in the grave with her and scream for the sweet woman who had held him and covered him with kisses. The woman who told him he was God’s little angel sent to her for her to love and adore.

  Why??!! the scream echoes through his agonized mind. I would have saved you, taken you away from here, if you’d just held on a little longer!!

  The only outward sign of the turmoil going on inside him is his jaw clenching and unclenching. He’s become a master at hiding his emotions, he’d had a lifetime to perfect it.

  Chief Standing Bear steps out of the structure and converses with the elders who had joined them on their walk. Outside a fire is raging, heating rocks for the coming ceremony. The chief steps away to prepare himself and the others watch the fire and fill buckets with water. A few moments later, several men enter the lodge carrying hot stones, which they place into a hole in the center of the structure. No one speaks as the hole is filled with glowing, hot rocks. Finally, after a bucket of water has been placed beside the pit, the chief returns accompanied by the tribal Medicine Man, Flying Eagle. The chief is holding a burning bundle of sage in one hand and a big white feather in the other. He begins to waft the smoke around John with the feather while he and Flying Eagle begin chanting in their native tongue, some of their words becoming louder while others are barely a whisper. Their eyes are closed and their bodies moving rhythmically, as if they were falling into a trance.

  John begins to melt, to fall into the smoke, as someone scoops water over the hot stones. The madness consuming him begins to splinter and scatter like shards of glass, releasing him from its grip. The pain and anger fall away and what replaces them is a glowing white light, emanating from inside of him. In this moment, he is not awake but he is not asleep, he’s somewhere in between, in the place behind the veil.

  Chief Standing Bear’s voice is inside his head now, in this place, not of the living and not of the dead. This is the place where the Shamans walk with the spirits.

  It is time for your animal guide to lead you, my son. This is your right of passage, to become one with him. He will always be with you, under your skin, as much a part of you as your heart and your mind. Trust your guide, he knows what is best for you. You will know when the time comes, he will lead you and you will conquer…together.

  John begins to convulse but he doesn’t awaken. His body seems to become boneless as he collapses backwards onto the floor. The chants become louder and more insistent. Chief Standing Bear falls to his knees, on the floor beside John’s no
w still body. He takes a pinch of ash from the end of one of the sticks of sage. Using the soot, he draws a symbol of a bear on John’s forehead, and sits beside him, where he will be on guard until he regains consciousness.

  *

  “Hey you little pussy, you gonna be ok without me for a week?” John shouts at Brian Daniels, his basic training partner in boot camp.

  John joined the Marines the week his mother died. There was nothing left for him in that cesspool of a reservation, nothing except Chief Standing Bear. When John told the chief that he had enlisted, he’d looked into his eyes, his stare so deep and intense it was as if he were peering into his soul and seeing all that lay ahead for John. John trembled under the force of his look but he stood solid and still, allowing the chief to see what he was looking for. After several minutes, Chief Standing Bear relaxed, placed a hand on John’s shoulder, and gave him a single nod.

  Chief Standing Bear had secretly hoped to train John to take over as the tribe’s chief when he left this world. However, the chief knew deep in his soul that John was a warrior, and that calling would always burn in his blood.

  “Hah, you’re just jealous of all the pussy I’m going to get when I go home. Women love a man in uniform. And a man in uniform as pretty as me, hell, the women are going to be lined up waiting to suck my dick,” Brian laughs.

  “Man, Dude, you are such a pig!” John says, laughing and shaking his head.

  “Yeah, but I’m gonna be one big smiling pig,” Brian beams.

  Brian and John are sitting in the bus station, waiting for their respective buses. John’s will take him back to Texas, Brian’s is taking him to North Carolina. Their going home on leave for a week before they ship out on their first deployment.

  “Dude, if you change your mind about coming and hanging with me at the beach for a week, just call me, man, my parents are cool with it,” Brian tells John again for the hundredth time.