Page 21 of Wild for You
“I think I’ll just look for a trail or something,” I call to him. “I, uh, I don’t want to get this silk wet. It’d be ruined.”
He lets his head fall back dramatically and rolls his eyes. “Ok, princess, have it your way! But I’ll have you know that this,” he splashes around, “is way more fun than climbing down.”
“I guess I’ll just have to take your word, then.” I retort as I look around for a way to get down.
It takes me much longer than I care to admit, but I eventually find a route that isn’t too steep leading to the fresh-water pool below. I’m careful to cover the giant mud stain on my ass that will surely ruin this expensive silk nightgown because there goes that excuse.
Jack shoves the water containers in my arms, “Here ya go. Help me carry these back to camp.”
“Gee, carrying heavy water bottles on a hot, humid day? You really know how to treat a lady, Jack.”
“Trust me, babe. You’ll thank me tonight when you have clean drinking water within arm’s reach.” He steadies my shoulders, letting his eyes wander down my backside. “It’s a good thing you didn’t ruin your nightgown from jumping in the water,” he teases.
I shrug my shoulders. “I may have slipped on my way down the waterfall, but at least I don’t smell like fish pee and mildew.” I plug my nose and turn on my heel, leaving him to follow as we trek back to the campsite in awkward silence.
CHAPTERELEVEN
Jack
I only founda few empty water bottles and one jug on the beach this morning, so we’ll have to replenish our water supply a little more frequently than I’d like. Luckily, I’ve got my small water pot stowed in my backpack. After setting up my camera on the tripod, I call Gwen over for a lesson in water safety.
“Hey Dubbies, so we’ve got ourselves a bit of a predicament here with the water situation. We need to find storage, so we don’t work ourselves to death trying to stay hydrated, but until I find a solution, let’s have a fire-making lesson.”
Gwen rolls her eyes in annoyance and scoots out of the shot, but I pull her back. “Not so fast there. I’m going to show you an alternate way to make a fire. All you need is—” I reach in my shorts pocket and pull out the ziplock bag I found on the shore this morning and hold it in front of the camera, “—a plastic baggie, some water, and a pile of dried moss and leaves.” I get up to fill the bag with water and rush back before Gwen can protest. I pass her the filled water bag and point to my leaf pile. “Gwenny Gazelle is going to show you just how easy it is to make fire on a sunny day like we’re having here.”
I hand her the bag, and her eyebrows pull together in confusion. “What the fuck am I supposed to do with this trash?” she half-whispers.
I point to the sun and line the bag up, creating an effect like a magnifying glass. “Hold the bag right here, and don’t move.” I encompass her hand with my own and steady her.
“So, how long am I supposed to sit here holding a bag of water like an idiot?” she snaps.
“Just trust the process.” I zoom the camera in on her hands, showing how the light is concentrated into a small dot on the leaves, and beads of sweat start to fall down my face. Jesus, it’s hot out here today. I couldn’t ask for better weather to demonstrate this technique, but my skin is begging to take another dip in the cool pond next to us.
I cut the camera off to save some battery life since I really need to start rationing my stash. I want to make sure to get a little bit of everything during this experience, and since I don’t know exactly how long it’s going to take me to figure out an escape plan … it could be a lot longer than I expect.
“Oh my God, Jack! Look!”
I turn the camera back on and zoom in on the tendril of smoke rising from the leaves. “That’s it, babe. You’ve got it. Let me just—” I grab Gwen’s hands in mine and cup them over the tiny ember. “Now blow.”
Her eyes go wide at my accidental innuendo, and I can’t help but crack a smile.
“I don’t take orders from anyone,” she mocks.
I pin her with a stare and look toward the camera, reminding her that we’re filming. “Ugh, fine.” She rolls her eyes. “But don’t get used to this. I don’t like being told what to do.”
“When you’re in my domain, you better damn well listen to what you’re told. Now, blow,” I command.
The air between us is thick with tension, and I know I’m not the only one feeling it because I can see Gwen’s nipples harden under that fuck-me nightgown. I know I’ll need a few more trips behind the bushes to alleviate these blue balls that I’m afraid may calcify if I don’t have sex soon.
Gwen’s eyes sparkle with mischief, and she leans over the ember, sticking her ass in the air in a very suggestive manner. She presses her sexy full lips together and blows ever so gently on the ember.
My balls clench in defiance, and I watch as the tiny ember sparks to life. I don’t miss the genuine smile that breaks across her face before she quickly reigns her natural RBF back in.
I tuck some more dried leaves around the growing flame and sit back as the fire comes to life.
Gwen’s breathing is heavy, and I adjust the camera, framing only her face in the shot. I’ll be damned if I’m sharing this perfect view with my millions of followers. “Well, look at that. She can follow orders after all.” I laugh. “How does it feel to make your very first fire, Gwenny Poo?”
She rolls her eyes, “And what makes you believe I don’t know how to do any of this stuff? Maybe I was just playing along to give your male ego a boost … You know, to keep up morale around here?”
