Page 50 of Bear Strength

“You’re lucky I like you, so I’ll let that one slide,” I slap her butt, and she quickly looks around to make sure no one saw us. “What are you so afraid of?”

She sighs. Her cheeks are blazing red. The sun bathes in her eyes, as she tries to turn away from it. But, it followsher wherever she goes, desperate for her attention. I know the feeling.

“That we’ll crash?”

“What if I drive slowly?” I ask, as gently as I can. Even though gentle isn’t my suit. That’s Adrian’s department. But, he’s not here. And, I’m not riding in no car. “Do you trust me?” I ask, extending my hand to her.

She looks at it. I know she’s thinking. Weighing. Should she do it? The corner of her lip dances in a smile.

“I do,” she nods.

“You know I’d never do anything to scare you or hurt you, right?”

“Yes,” she nods again.

“We’ll go slow. Promise. You just hold onto me.”

She comes over and wraps her arms around me. Her hair smells like apples. Her body is so little. You’d want to put her in your pocket and always take her with you, wherever you go. Is that what love feels like? I’ve only known desire. Need. Fucking. Then, afterwards, nothing. With her, it’s different. It’s so different. I want her to stay. Before, during and after. I want her lips to keep moving, I want her voice to be heard, I want her body to always be close. Is that how the guys feel, too?

“And, you’ll stop if it’s too much?” she whispers in my neck.

My dick gets hard at the thought of her kissing me, of stopping somewhere along the way for a quickie in the woods.

“Of course,” I grin, adjusting my hard cock in my pants, hoping that she couldn’t feel it.

I take her over to the bike. She stops. She’s looking at it. Inspecting it, like it’s an enemy she’ll be fighting soon. So, she needs to know its weaknesses. I smile. Sometimes, she’s like a child, and that’s why she needs to be protected. Women like herare so rare. So fucking beautiful, like a dying breed. Like us. That’s why she belongs with us. She and the boy.

I sit down first, adjusting my weight.

“You ready?” I ask her.

She sighs, her lips parting only slightly. I’d take her closer, but she needs to do it on her own. She feels the leather seat first. Her fingers dance on the cover. She inspects every part of it, as if she knows exactly what it is and what it does. I allow her. She needs time. We’re in no rush.

It takes her a few moments to finally sit down. First, she adjusts her helmet. Her body presses to mine. Her tits flatten against my back. The soft midsection between her legs pinned down to my lower back. This is where she belongs. I show her where to put her feet. She does it, obediently. Her arms wrap around my waist, tight. Her fingers dig into my jacket. I smile.

“Can we start?” I ask, my foot ready.

“Yes,” she replies, louder than I expected.

I press on the gas pedal. The machine roars wildly. It takes off, through the dirty outback and into the neat streets of the town that we’ve made into our home. Slowly, her grip loosens. But, she’s still pressed close to me. I can feel her breathing.

“We good?” I ask, every once in a while.

“Good,” she’d reply back.

I take the roundabout way, to the lake. When we reach it, I expect her to jump off the bike. Instead, she gets off slowly. One leg at a time. Confidently. With a smile on her face.

It’s still sunny. It’ll be a warm night. One for open windows. I hear crickets already. A few birds chirping in the nearby trees. I started noticing these things only recently. Like I have a new reason to look at the world differently. I wonder if it’s an inside change that provoked this.

“It wasn’t so bad, was it?” I ask, grinning.

She fits into this serene scene perfectly. She’s like a water nymph, from one of those old mythological tales. Adrian’s got all kinds of obscure books on his shelf, and sometimes, when I’m very bored, I browse them. Not too often, though.

“Not at all,” she shakes her head, gazing at the lake. “I don’t know what I was so afraid of.”

“Fear,” I reply. “You convinced yourself you were scared of it. And, there’s nothing more frightening than the fear we create for ourselves.”

She looks like she didn’t hear me. She doesn’t react. She seems lost in the view around her.

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