Page 95 of Rugger: The Huntress

I dislodged my dick slowly. Breathlessly, I peered down at Gazelle, who never took her eyes off me.

“O– open up.”

She opened her mouth, showcasing the empty shell.

“You’re a fucking problem,” I admitted. She was oblivious to her blessings, but I was well aware.

“But it’s better that you’re my fucking problem.”

Confidently, her cheeks fattened with a smile. She stood on her feet and grabbed me by the hand. I followed her out of the bedroom.

“Wher–”

She covered her mouth with a finger and continued down the hallway. We descended the stairs and made our way through the kitchen. Through the pantry, she pushed, making it clear where we were headed. With a shake of the head, I stepped forward.

I stretched my arm across her body and straightened the chicken noodle soup can. Just beneath her breast, I straightened the cream of mushroom. And, lastly, I pushed the can of green beans backward where it belonged. A gust of cold air was followed by the sound of locks turning.

Gazelle rose to the tips of her toes as the door opened automatically. She was the first inside. Slowly, I made my way through the narrow opening.

You smell the gunpowder. My words resonated now more than ever. She did. She had. Even the floorplan of my home I was sure she’d studied didn’t reveal where my arsenal was hidden, but she didn’t need a floor plan. All she needed was her nose.

I halted at the sight of Rugger in a rather compromising position. My limp dick began to liven up. The door of the pantry closed behind me, locking us inside until we were both ready to emerge.

I wasn’t sure how long that would be, because within seconds I’d be surrounded by two of my favorite things. Gazelle’s most powerful weapon and mine. One was between her walls. The other was on my wall.

Her arms stretched until her hands reached her toes. Her pussy shined like diamonds in the dark, beckoning me over. I wasted little time answering the call. Behind her, I stood with my dick pressed against her slipperiness.

I coated my skin with her juices before positioning myself at her opening. Slowly, I pushed into her. Every pending issue in my world dissolved.

“Uhhhhh,” Gazelle cried out as she leaned forward.

I looped my arm around her to help her maintain her balance.

“Shit so fucking good,” I whispered against her spine, fully prepared for my ending before I’d even begun.

I zoomed in, magnifying the birthmark behind Gazelle’s ear. Beside it was a small tattoo of the letterR. I made a mental note of the new discovery.

A sleeping beauty.

Insomnia had awakened me after a few hours of sleep. The idea of my bedmate fleeing kept my eyes wide and my back against the pillows next to her. By sunrise, she’d be long gone and I’d be missing her something awful. I wasn’t prepared for her absence.

Sleep felt like a wasted opportunity. I needed more time with her. Time that didn’t involve an obstructed view of her. That’s all rest was for me at the moment, an obstruction. Not even my dreams could compare to having her beside me, in my line of vision, or close enough to touch.

Her dark skin went on for what seemed like forever before disappearing underneath the covers. She was stunning in her nakedness. The scent of the vanilla body wash still lingered. It paired well with her natural ph-balance.

We’d bathed for an hour, exploring one another’s intimate details. Exiting felt like a swift kick to the gut. Our closeness was such a pleasurable reward for the life of lonesomeness I’d chosen.

The red dot on the outdated video recorder blinked continuously, assuring me of the capturing of her beauty. Her ability to maintain the same position throughout the night was a clear indication of her occupation. One wrong move was all it took in the field and it could mean the end of your existence.

“Shut it off,” she whined, “And, get some sleep.”

I lowered the camera, realizing she was no longer sleeping. Interrupting her rest wasn’t my intention. She needed the downtime. If no one else understood, I did. In our profession, pulling the trigger was easier than shutting off your thoughts. They were overpowering and far too inconsiderate for my liking.

“I can’t. I’ve tried.”

She pushed her head further out of her way as she sprang up. Confusion plagued her, yet she still managed to make it to her feet. Silently, I watched as her nakedness strutted toward the chair where her clothes were folded neatly and her shoes were side by side.

Though she’d located her fabrics, she was missing the most important piece of her wardrobe. There were a few of them, in fact, and she wouldn’t leave without them.

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