FSE

Furry search engine

formerly SoFurry search engine

Chapter 22 :

Kiss From a Rose

Rosie hadn't been out this way in years. One of the smaller tributaries off the creek eventually opened up into a proper lake, several hundred yards across and deep enough for a kraken. She'd been thinking about heading out here to fish again for some time, but it was a bit of a hike even for her. Committing to the trip meant camping out for at least one night, and that caused a lot of other logistical problems now that she was producing milk.

Still, she had about fished all the good trout out of the spots close to her, and the next run of salmon wasn't for weeks. It was time to come back to the lake.

She knew the way though. It was a difficult path, but one worth taking. The last slope following the trickle of water that flowed out of it was overgrown and hard to follow, but she made her way through it. The lake didn't come into view first though. Something else did that wasn't there before. Something new.

A Cabin.

More than a few of the trees had been cleared from one side, and it stood there made of their sacrifice. None too small, and none too rustic either. It was fairly big, two stories with plenty of modern glass and stonework, with a nice truck parked a ways off on a freshly worn in path. A long dock now stretched out into the lake as well, and that was something she might be able to take advantage of supposing the owner was about and willing to allow it.

She considered her options, but didn't bother to slow her pace, eventually drawing near enough to move up alongside the building without ever stepping onto any part of it that might be considered intentional trespassing.

"Hold it right there."

She froze, recognizing well enough the tone of the statement and the sound of the lever action rifle being brought to bear.

"What are your intentions here, woman?" It was a man's voice, clearly older, "This is my land, and I don't take kindly to intruders."

"My intentions are to find out exactly how far out your land extends, and how welcome I am on it." She replied calmly. She wasn't about to let him intimidate her, "And since you're armed with a rifle, and all I've got is a fishing rod... Maybe you should just calm your ass down."

"Turn around."

She did as she was asked, finding the man standing there leveling his weapon at her chest. He was somewhat fit, despite the belly he'd developed over the years. His hair was greying and about shoulder length, but slicked back to keep it manageable. It wasn't a style so much. It had a lot in common with his thick beard. It was just easier to deal with than tending to it, and he had long stopped caring enough to spend that much time on his appearance. He also wasn't as old as she expected, but he was definitely worn. As much by age and the outdoors as he was by something else... Something obvious, even to her.

"Cow, huh?" He looked her over, not so much with disdain as with caution, "I heard there's some dairy farms out here. You part of that?"

"I live over at Hoyt's farm." She nodded her head in the general direction, "Look, I'm just here to kill fish. So if you want to gun me down, go ahead. At least I'd die at the end of a classic... Winchester 1873, isn't it?"

He nodded slowly, clearly somehow placated by her comment, "You know your guns."

"I know your gun, at least." She said. turning to look over the cabin curiously, "That wasn't here last time I came out this way."

"Yeah, well. It is now." He said, lowering the gun finally without taking his finger off the trigger, "Been my land for decades, though. Always planned on using it to retire on. Some place where I wouldn't be bothered by folk lookin' to take something more from me."

"I suppose that's working then, seeing as I don't want a damn thing from you." Rosie turned back to him again, raising her eyebrows, "That a good enough answer, or are we going to keep playing this little game?"

"Yeah. Yeah, that'll do." He smirked despite himself, lifting the rifle to rest on his shoulder now and moving to walk past her back to the cabin, "Name's Thomas. You hungry?"

She smiled. This was going to be fun. They both knew a battle had just begun between them, and she wanted every bit to be part of it.

"I could eat."

"Here."

A few minutes later and they were on the porch. She was sitting in a pleasantly comfortable rocking chair, enjoying the gentle motion of it. She'd never been in one before, but she planned on getting one for the farm now. He was busily chewing on something, and offering an identical stick of leathery reddish meat to her.

She looked at it curiously, having never seen anything like it for good reason, but took it from him just the same, "What is it?"

"Jerky. Beef Jerky. Had a damn ton of the stuff preserved and frozen before the Change did it's thing." He said, moving to sit down in a chair a few feet away, "Haven't you ever wondered why we all liked it so much?"

"Not really. Figured we probably tasted good." She looked at it curiously, but didn't hesitate more than a moment before taking a confident bite off the end, chewing the flesh of her ancestors for a bit with a nod, "Huh... Not bad."

"It was better when it was fresh." He smirked to himself, both impressed and disappointed that he didn't get her with that one, "You should have tried bacon. What I wouldn't give for a proper breakfast of fatback and hash."

"Well there ain't no Changed potatoes, far as I know." She turned to give him a grin, taking another bite off the meat as she did so, "Give me a few hours to trick some fish out of this water, and we can make do."

Thomas practically snorted, "Don't waste your time. I've been fishin' this lake for months, ain't caught a damn thing."

"Yeah?" Rosie looked him up and down, still rocking in the chair, "This cabin wasn't cheap. What was your trade?"

He furrowed his brow, looking back at her in annoyance, "Electrical engineer. You making a point?"

"That's a thing to be proud of." She looked away toward the water, nodding slowly, "But it takes you away from this, doesn't it? You don't think maybe you've lost your touch? A little too much time living a civilized life?"

"A pox on your tongue, girl." He chuckled a little, "I've been hunting and fishing longer than you've been alive."

"How about a little wager then?" She said, smiling, "If I pull up a trout in time for dinner, you let me sleep indoors."

"Well I was going to let you have the couch..." He was grinning like a moron now, "But frankly, if you're going to make a gamble out of it, I'm inclined to rarefy that offer."

"Have the couch?" She snorted back, "I'm bettin' you've got a queen upstairs from the look of this place, and you're going make me sleep on the couch?"

"Nope. I'm going to make you sleep outside." He said with a nod, "Especially if you just sit here jabberin' with me about it."

She stood calmly, snatched up her pole from where it was leaning on the wall nearby, and made her way down the deck toward the lake.

"You coming?" She called back over her shoulder, "You might learn something."

"This damn girl..." He muttered under his breath a bit, then stood himself to head around to fetch his pole. He couldn't but smile though once he was out of her line of sight.

This was the most fun he'd had in years.

Twenty minutes out on the dock was all it took for Rosie to set the hook on her first catch of the day. It was big enough to keep, and to prove her point. She spent a little time watching him out of the corner of her eye curiously. It seemed almost like his whole body was stiffer than it deserved to be. The motion of his cast wasn't as smooth as it should have been. The grip and spin of his reel was irregular.

She was pretty sure she understood now why he hadn't caught anything. He was struggling against himself. He was frustrated, and it was making him impatient.

She managed to pull up one more before they headed back, and soon she had fried them both up with some seasoned potatoes along side. He went at the meal like a man who had been eating too many things out of cans lately, which was exactly the case, and before long they were back out on the porch rocking slowly.

"I have to admit..." He said with a nod, "You know how to cook up a fish."

"I learned from the best." She replied with a smile.

They sat in silence for a while, watching the sunset as it began to glimmer off the water.

"I'm going to need to head back tomorrow morning." That had always been the plan, "I've got a little girl back home. Don't like to leave her for too long."

"They tend to forget your face if you're gone too long." He went quiet, letting her look him over to try and get a read on that last statement, "Tell you what. I'll drive you back when you're ready. Won't take twenty minutes."

"I'd appreciate that." She said with a slight smile.

For a long moment it seemed to her like there was something else he wanted to say. Whatever it was, he swallowed it down, and they spent the rest of the evening in quiet before finally turning in. It was nothing improper. He got her a blanket of her own and they each stuck to their side. He snored like a freight train and that had her up a couple times. That was fine though. There was another thing she intended to do before she left here, and it gave her the opportunity to do so.

"Here."

Thomas just blinked at it, sitting at the table just after breakfast. It was something he hadn't seen in almost a decade. A glass full, nice and cold from a night spent in the fridge.

Milk.

He barely hesitated, taking up the glass and downing half of it in a single go, letting his eyes close as he did so. It was every bit what he remembered. Hell, it was better than he remembered. All he could do was sigh as he put the glass back down.

Rosie smiled to herself. She didn't think she was going to get him with that one, but it was worth a shot. The game was still on.

"I emptied out one of your water jugs." She said, moving back to the kitchen where she was working on getting a stew started for lunch, "You have a gallon more in the fridge."

"A whole gallon?" He said, eyes opening to look at her in surprise, "Damn, girl... You squeezed out that much in one night?"

She shrugged, chopping up some carrots, "We produce fast over at Hoyt's. It's kind of a trade secret."

"Oh yeah?" He asked. He'd caught a glimpse of her down to nothing but a pair of jockeys and a tank top the night before. He was finding it hard not to appreciate her backside through her jeans now, even obscured as it was by her tail, "So what's the secret?"

She finished chopping, getting all the vegetables set to stew. She turned and walked over, putting a hand on his shoulder to lean down and whisper in his ear...

"It's a secret."

She turned and walked out, taking her fishing pole from beside the door and headed back out to the dock.

It was mid-afternoon before she came back. She'd only pulled up one more fish to show for the day, but it was a beast. He was back on the porch again, admiring her handiwork as she hung it up from the rack just down the steps. It had been built for hanging fish from, but it had never been used until now.

"She's a beauty, alright." He said, taking a drag off what appeared to be a hand rolled cigarette. It wasn't the fish he was admiring, but he'd never admit that.

"Mind if I take her home with me?" Rosie said, folding her arms and nodding at the thing, "Bit of a record. I'd like to show it off."

"That'll be fine." He said, watching as she turned to come sit back next to him again.

There was a silence. They both considered how to proceed. She had to leave soon, and the game wasn't over.

"That ain't tobacco, is it?" She asked finally, "Didn't take you for the type."

"Never was. Hated people that did this kind of thing, but... It helps, and the pills they'd rather have me on make me about useless." He paused long enough to take a long hit, then extended it out toward her, "Want to try it?"

"No thanks."

He raised a brow, "You'll eat the flesh of your own kind, but you won't try marijuana?"

"I'm a dairy cow." She shook her head, letting one leg cross over the other, "No tobacco, no alcohol, no caffeine, no pharmaceuticals. If we take anything that can contaminate the milk, we can't sell it until it's had long enough to work itself out again."

"I suppose that makes sense." He said with a nod, taking his hand back, "So how much are jugs like those worth, anyway?"

She shrugged a little, "Depends. A gallon of mine will go for thirty or forty, depending on where you get it. We've got some girls that make cheese milk though, and that goes for way more."

"Who says I meant the jug in the fridge?" They both turned to look at each other, and he conspicuously eyeballed her breasts for a moment, made eye contact and then looked away, "You said you had a baby girl, though? Who knocked you up?"

"Turkey baster." She looked away again as well, "If you're ever in the market for a jar of frozen bull semen, I know a guy."

"I'll keep that in mind." He said with a little laugh, "Just try not to get those mixed up in the fridge."

"You sure? There's a lot of protein in it." She smiled, "And you get used to the taste pretty quick."

"Oh, so there is a man in your life then."

That almost got her. Her smile faded a bit as she thought back to her time with Lune. She missed him.

"No more than the woman you bought this second chair for."

His smile faded too. They silently decided to call it a draw and set that topic as off limits. For a time they just sat watching the lake. Eventually he took another drag off his joint, which led her to ask the question that she had been chewing on since the day before.

"What kind of cancer is it?" She said quietly.

"Who fucking knows anymore." He said with a snort. "Pancreatic. They told me I beat that. Kidney. Told me I beat that, too. Now it's in my bones and who knows where all else."

She nodded slowly, "How long?"

"Weeks. Months. Doesn't really matter." He sighed to himself, "I came up here to die, Rosie."

"Really? Looks to me like you came up here to live." She turned to look at him curiously. They made eye contact again, and she gave him a wink, "Also looks like you suck at it."

He laughed. Harder than he had in a long time at anything. She started in soon after, breaking off to stand and make her way back inside to tend to the stew.

Eventually he followed after, having snuffed out the last of joint. He never smoked in the cabin, "You know, if I'd met you sooner I might still have a little faith left in this world. Hell, I might even have given you a tumble or two."

"Mighty kind." She said, her back toward him and working on the meal, "What's stopping you though? You have dick cancer too?"

"Probably. Ain't checked." He said with a shrug, "Not like there's a lot of women lining up for a used up old corpse like me anyway."

"You had one lined up last night." She said, and that caused him to look over at her, "After all that work I put into getting in your bed even, you couldn't even be bothered to roll over on top of me?"

He rolled his eyes, "You ain't serious."

She turned, having dished out a couple of bowls of stew to walk over and set them at the table, then moved over to rest her arms across his shoulders and place a little kiss on his forehead.

"I'd have let you in." She smiled wickedly at him, "I'd have liked it."

His mouth fell open a little, but there were no words he could think of. He just looked back at her, stunned as he'd ever been in his life.

She drew back one hand to poke him on the nose.

"I win."

He shook his head as she turned away again, smiling to himself. Damn he liked his woman.

"Looks like you did." He said with a chuckle, "I'll get you next time."

"Didn't answer my question, though." She sat down at the table. This round of the game was over. No reason to be coy about it now, "What's stopping you from giving me a tumble?"

He stood in place for a moment, then moved to sit across from her, "You really are serious?"

She spooned up a bit of her stew, blowing on it a couple of times. Her lips pursed in a way that was a little bit seductive, eyes locked with his, "I think we know each other well enough. You know I'm no delicate flower, and I know you ain't too good to bed down with a cow."

He regarded her for a long while, "I suppose I'm not, much to my surprise."

"Then eat your lunch." She said with a nod, "We'll fuck, take a short nap, and then you can drive me back to the farm."

It was all he could do to nod, then start on his meal.

Romantic it wasn't.

He found himself laying naked in his bed, leaning back on the headboard while she was getting ready in the bathroom. He was looking down at his own belly in disgust. There had been a time when he prided himself on his physique, and now he just looked like a regular old man that had spent too much time on his ass.

As it was he wasn't even hard, despite his excitement. That worried him. It had been a long time since he'd been with a woman. Even longer since he'd cleaned the pipes himself. With as sick as he'd been, he wasn't even sure what all he would be capable of.

Those thoughts left him once she came back into the room. Stark naked and carrying a fresh towel. She was taller than him, but lean and fit in ways enhanced her curves rather than making them seem less feminine. Her breasts were big and shapely, though he still couldn't imagine how she could have gotten an entire gallon of milk out of them in one night, much less how they weren't sagging to her knees on account of her profession. Somehow they were darn near perfect, and it just didn't seem possible.

But he felt a twitch between his legs at the sight of her, and he thought he might just have one more left in him after all.

She moved up onto the bed, not bothering with trying to be sultry or put on a show as she crawled up between his legs to pull them apart and start tucking the towel underneath his buttocks.

"What the hell are you doing with my good towel?" He asked, eyeing her suspiciously.

"It looked like the most absorbent one in there." She replied, not really answering the question.

"It is." He said with a bit of annoyance, "That's why I called the good towel, not just that towel."

"You know Thomas, I kind of doubted your claim of being an outdoorsman when I met you." She said, smiling up at him when it was in place, then moving back enough to pull his legs back out straight and climb up to straddle them, "But now that we've had this discussion on the quality of fluffy towels, I can see you're the real deal."

"Very funny." He said sarcastically, "But you still ain't said why you just stuck it under my butt."

She was kneeling over him now, still upright to let him see her fully nude body up close and personal now. He'd rather admired the way the sun glinted off the faun colored hair covering her body before, but seeing the whole of her doing the same in the light through the window gave him a whole new appreciation of it. As he watched, she lowered one hand to pry the lips of her sex apart gently, letting him appreciate the sight of that as well. She barely did anything at all, just a gentle pressing and relaxing against the labia was all it took for the juices to start flowing. First it just glistened on her, then it hung heavy from her hood... Then formed into a long strand that slowly made the journey down, before snapping off and splattering on his shaft.

Any fears he might have had about his ability to get an erection were gone now.

"Seems to be a trait among us changed cows. We're a bit messy." She settled down over him, reaching her hand down to get ahold of his manhood, "We're going to need the good towel."

Thomas had nothing to be ashamed of. He was only a little bigger than average, but thick like a stump. Rosie didn't care about the size of the tool though. The only thing that mattered was using it right, and it would do the job just fine. She stroked it a few times, causing a sensation in him that made him gasp.

There was no point in drawing this out, she decided. She lowered herself gently, still unsure how fragile he might be were she to put too much weight on him. She kept him upright, and he felt her labia pressed aside to swallow his tip. She ground herself against it for a moment to tease at her nub, letting out a gasp of her own, then got him into positions to lower herself right down, letting almost the entire shaft slide into her body in one go.

Her eyes closed, and he watched as she sighed a gentle moan. She leaned backwards on her hands, again making sure not to let her full weight come down on him, and she started to grind her hips slowly. He could feel her warmth each time it swallowed him, leaving a slick layer of her wetness behind each time she pulled back away again. He could feel it gathering in the untended bramble of hair at the base of his member, and starting to run down the crack of his ass, and he thought to himself...

Good thing she used the good towel.

It didn't take long for either of them. She picked up the pace gradually, and soon the sound of them slapping lightly together filled the room like the rhythm section to the gentle song of her moans. He knew that he wasn't going to last long if only because of how long it had been for him, but the sight and sound of it was setting off something inside of him that was far more than physical.

Desire. He wanted this woman, and he wanted her bad.

The last he could take was watching her arch her back as she came, her big, beautiful breasts pulled taught as they fell slightly aside, and little bead of white formed at the tip of each nipple as she came. Her body shook as she pushed herself against him, harder than she meant to and pushing him up against the headboard to take all of him inside. It set him off too. The first pulse of it almost hurt after so long, and as far as he could tell nothing even came out. It cleared enough of the dust though, and the second blast fired a line of white deep inside of her. Then another. Soon he was almost surprised by how much he had in him, as it filled her body and dribbled out around him right alongside her fluids.

She felt it, and she smiled.

They came together. They came down together. Soon there was nothing left but the sound of breathing, heavy and satisfied. Two people that had only known each other for a day, but already had no regrets about how they felt about each other.

It took him more time to catch his breath than her, just staring at the ceiling. She let him slide out, a glob of their combined mess spilling out of her once the tip popped out. She didn't want that, and she quickly closed her legs to help keep at least some of his load inside. Not that he could get her pregnant, or even that she wanted him to. It was just the idea of it she liked. She dried herself as best she could with the free end of the good towel, then crawled up to lie on her back beside him.

"Not going to lie..." He said between breaths, "I was kind hoping that would finish me off. Not a bad way to go, I reckon."

She smiled a little, "We'll keep trying."

"If nothing else, you can sit on my face and drown me." He sat up, taking the free end of the towel and dabbing at the swamp between his own legs now, "You gonna pull a fish out of this lake too?"

"What for?" She reached up to stroke his back a little, "Already hooked the big one."

He snorted a little, but was clearly amused. He tossed the towel toward the bathroom to keep it off the carpet, and lay back down, "I keep expecting you're going to change your mind about that any time now."

"Not likely." She rolled over a bit to place her head on his shoulder, letting an arm lay across him and closing her eyes, "I don't make a habit of second guessing myself."

Silence fell over them. Soon she was napping, and it was all he could do to just try and understand how things had ended up this way. Here she was, naked against him, covered in soft hair that felt like silk against his skin. Here was this woman, more clever and confident than any he'd ever known, and for some reason she wanted... Him. It didn't make sense.

But he was grateful...

And he was tired. He closed his eyes, and soon enough drifted off to sleep with her.

A few days later the old fifty four Ford pulled up to the cabin, and Thomas came out to meet it. Rosie didn't drive, but Annabelle had agreed to bring her over and the pair hopped out in tandem.

"Oh my goodness." Thomas barely even saw the girls. The truck was all he had eyes for, "And in perfect condition, too? Where does a milkin' cow get her hands on a piece of history like this?"

"Restored her myself, sugar." Annabelle leaned on the hood proudly, "Belonged to Mr. Hoyt's father, then passed on to him. She needed a little love to get her purring again, but I have a knack for that kinda thing."

"Thomas, this is Annabelle."

The attempt to introduce them was only replied to with a bit of a nod, before Thomas turned and started back around the house, muttering under his breath, "Cows fishin' better than me. Cows drivin' trucks better than mine. We're done, humans... Pack it in... The cows are in charge now."

They watched him leave, and all Annabelle could do was chuckle, "You do choose the most difficult path, don't you, Rosie?"

"Can't help it." She collected a large basket from the bed of the truck, and started off after Thomas, before calling back, "Thanks for the ride, girl. See you in a couple days?"

"Sure thing, sugar."

By the time she was around to the back porch, he was already in his chair and rocking slowly, "She's not stayin', is she? I ain't running a halfway house."

"No, you've definitely got the whole house." She said, moving up the steps to slide open the glass door and make her way inside, "You're just doing everything else halfway."

"Ouch." He couldn't help but smile a little, but was suddenly very interested by the smells that had just passed him by, "What on earth have you got there?"

"A little gift from our cook for later." Rosie set it on the table, then made her way back out to take her spot in the chair to his right.

He'd spent a lot of time thinking about her in the few days she'd been away, and he had doubts. A lot of them, "Are you sure you want to do this? I'm on a timer. It'd be a lot easier just not to come back here."

"You remind me of someone." She said letting it sit like that for a long moment, "Someone who hated how the world was, but went the wrong way with it."

"That sounds like a story." He said, pulling one of his hand rolled medicine sticks out of his breast pocket. He was starting to hurt a bit, "What happened to him?"

"I shot him dead through the chest."

The joint never made it to his lips. He turned his head to look at her in surprise. He half expected to see her grin and let him know he'd just been played again, but there was no doubt that wasn't going to happen.

"I met a feral out here. A deer. He'd been shot a few times. Some fresh, some older." She paused, and she had to smile a little at the memory of him that first time they saw each other... Terrified and curious as they locked eyes across the creek.

"You found the man that was hunting him?"

"Worse... I could have understood that, in some way." She said, the smile fading, "He was selling something like safaris to rich people. Guiding them to ferals so they could kill them."

He shook his head. Very little disturbed him anymore. He'd seen enough indifference and depravity that it all just seemed mundane, but this caused a pit to form in his stomach, "This is why I hate the world. You did humanity a service."

"I don't regret it, but..." She said, letting out a sigh, "I still wonder if there might have been another way sometimes. Killing a man... It's a hard stain to wash from your soul."

"Is that what this is for you then?" He said after a pause, "You trying to make something right for yourself, by doing right by me?"

"I think I am." She said, unsure how he was going to take what she was about to say, "I think I need to bury another man. One who appreciates it. I need to balance myself back out."

"Fair enough" He finally got around to lighting up, taking a long toke and letting the pain fade a bit, "Tomorrow morning I'll show the plot I chose. I started trying to dig it out, but..."

"Don't worry. I'll finish up." She said, letting a grateful smile come over her, "Thank you, Thomas."

"Things happen out in places like this that civilized folk would never believe." He smiled too now, "Things that are hard to make sense of, but make more sense than anything else I've ever known."

"Truer words. I can't explain half of what I've seen out here, but promise me something..." She turned to look at him, "When you get to the other side... If you see a glowing white stag, standing like a man would... Tell him Rosie sent you."

Thomas' eyebrows went up, and he shifted in his seat to take a long look at the woman next to him.

"He owes me one." She said with a little nod, "So what about you? You changed your mind about me?"

He shook his head, and she thought for a moment he wasn't going to say anything. So did he, but eventually he decided he might as well, "I pulled my pud yesterday for the first time in probably twenty years."

A smile first, and then she started to chuckle.

"I came up here with every intention of ending my days with dignity. A day with you and I'm jackin' off like a randy teenager." He just let her have her laugh, "I don't even know what to call the sort of a complex I'm developing here."

"Really more of a fetish than a complex." She said, still chuckling lightly, "You thinkin' about me while you're rubbing it out? Or is it just a general lusting after sexy cattle?"

"Of course I was thinking about you."

Her smile faded into something more tender. He said it with annoyance, but that actually made it more pleasant to hear. He meant something by it.

"Well if it makes you feel any better I was thinking about you too." She said, then adding with a shrug, "The first few times, anyway."

"First few?" He had to chuckle himself now, "How many times a day do you diddle yourself, girl?"

"Enough to get the job done." She said with a wink, "Ain't just me though. We all do it. Us cows are a little more sensitive than most Changed, from what we can tell."

He just shook his head, still grinning, "What the hell kind of operation is Hoyt running out there?"

"I think he wonders that himself sometimes." She chuckled again, "But he's only got eyes for Elsie. It ain't as creepy as you're picturing."

"Any creepier than grown men jerkin' off thinkin' about sexy cows, anyway." He said with a snort.

"Aw, you think I'm sexy." She leaned over in her chair toward him. She was enjoying this. She loved Lune, but their time together had been very serious and meaningful. There was a playfulness to this that was new to her, "Too bad I wasn't here. I could have given you a hand."

"If your fingers weren't too tired from all the diddlin', you could right now." He said turning his head to smile at her. It wasn't exactly subtle. It wasn't meant to be. He'd been questioning himself the entire time she was gone, but just a few minutes of talking to her now that she was back had reminded him why he liked this woman.

And why he wanted her.

She was never one to back down from a challenge. Rosie slid out of her chair down to her knees, moving slowly over to kneel in front of him. She reached out to start fiddling with his fly and give him a wink, "I use a vibrator."

Soon enough he found himself shifting so she could drag his jeans down, and she prompted him forward so that his balls were hanging heavy over the front of the chair. He was half hard already from the anticipation of it, but the feel of her fingers slipping around the shaft to give it a couple strokes was all it took to hasten the growth. Soon he was at full mast, and she was looking up at him with a wicked smile.

She always said that the best fish can't be forced out of the water. It takes the right kind of lure to tempt and tease it out. It takes patience, and she was nothing if not a patient woman. She held him upright with just the one hand, her other fingers motionless as she started to gently rub her thumb against the underside up against the glans. She explored it gently, noting how it made him twitch, but there was no rush...

This fish would bite when it was ready.

It was all she did at first, and it was more than enough to have him leaning back in the chair and gripping the armrests as his breathing got heavier. Eventually she leaned in though, licking just at the base of his manhood at first, then working her way down to let her tongue toy with his sack. His eyes opened back up and he looked down at her. No one had ever done that to him before. He wasn't even sure what to make of it, right up until she sucked his balls into her mouth and swirled them around. At that point, he just decided to let the girl do her thing. She seemed to know what she was doing, and it felt damn good.

Good enough for that fish to bite, anyway.

It built fairly quickly, but gentle and warm as the orgasm washed over his body. She didn't even try to change course as his seed spurted out, leaving a heavy trail across her snout. She just kept gently caressing the tip and swirling his heavy sack around with her tongue. She had her eyes closed, calmly allowing his load to glaze the reddish hair covering her face. She let it soak in. She welcomed it, and he was more than willing to give.

Once it was over, she let his balls slip out of her mouth and leaned back enough to let the tip of his spent member slip between her lips instead. She suckled a couple of times to drain the last of the semen from it that hadn't had the velocity to escape with the rest, then opened her eyes and leaned backward on her knees.

He looked down at her. She smiled right back up at him. For a long moment neither one of them said anything, but then he just had to chuckle.

"You got a little something on your face there."

She laughed too, moving to stand up now, "Don't sell yourself short, Thomas. I got plenty of something on my face."

He laughed hard at that, enough that it made him choke and cough after a few seconds. He paid the discomfort no mind though, and even when he was done was still laughing lightly despite how out of breath he was.

"I'm going to take a shower." She said, giving him a wink before moving off toward the sliding door, "Is the good towel clean?"

"Still in the wash." He replied, "Didn't think it was going to be needed so soon."

"Fair enough. We're going to need it later." She said, smiling as she made her way inside and toward the stairs to the second floor, before calling over her shoulder, "You coming, or are you gonna make me diddle myself again?"

He took stock of the situation. A grown man, trying to finish his life with dignity... Sitting in a rocking chair with his pants half down, his pecker in the wind and his nut sack covered in spit. He wasn't sure how she had waylaid his plans so completely...

But frankly, he liked her plan better.

"I'll be up shortly."

She'd come and gone several times over the next few weeks, and his health seemed to be holding steady at just above bad. It wasn't a surprise that he didn't come out to meet her at the truck when Annabelle dropped her off. He hadn't done so since that first time. It was more surprising not to find him on the porch in his favorite chair. She felt a bit of concern wash over her, not seeing him inside through the glass door either.

"Thomas?" She called out, trying to stifle her worry, "You still living?"

"I'm in here."

She followed the voice, opening the sliding door and stepping inside to find him just out of view on the other side of the couch laying on his back on the ground and looking very annoyed.

"What the hell happened here?" She asked, folding her arms over her chest as she regarded him. He didn't appear to be hurt, so some of the concern had faded.

"What happened here?" There was a bit of fire in his eyes as he started rambling at her, "What happened here is that I fell on my ass! Then I rolled around a bit like a fuckin' turtle been flipped over, cursed and swore about it for a while, smoked a fat one and laughed my ass off for about an hour at the absurdity of it, then that wore off and I cursed and swore about it some more, and now here I am lookin' at the only person who can help me up and she's too busy findin' amusement in my predicament to do so! I leave anything out? That good enough for you?"

Rosie moved toward him, unable to contain her laughter as she bent down to help him to his feet, "How long were you down there?"

"Eight hours and forty seven minutes, thank you very much." It was a struggle, and the both of them couldn't help but notice how much strength he had lost, "And while I'm grateful not to have pissed myself thanks to dehydration, that's about to change unless we take immediate action."

He could hardly help as she walked him outside. She wasn't laughing anymore, even as they quickly undid his fly to pull out his penis. Holding the flood in so long required a bit of effort, but soon there was massive stream of yellow shooting off the porch into the grass nearby.

"Oh hell, that's glorious... A man with two indoor bathrooms pissing all over God's green earth, and he couldn't be more grateful." He let his eyes close at the joy of relief but tilted his head to the sky, "Apologies sir, but no regrets."

"I don't think he'll mind."

Rosie held him up for the duration of the act, helping him do himself back up once he was done and assisting him into his chair on the porch. Only then did she leave to move in and fetch him something to drink, which he accepted without hesitation. He wasn't joking about the dehydration, and he downed an entire glass of water in one go.

She let him take the time needed to collect himself, settling into the chair next to his to begin rocking slowly. A lot of emotions were clearly raging through him, and he wasn't sure which one should take center stage.

"Would you mind smashing this on the porch?" He said, offering the glass she'd given him, "I'm mighty pissed off right now, but I'm too weak to do it myself."

She took it from him, and hurled it to the ground to cause a shower of glass shards fly off the porch and into the dirt. He smiled at that. Somehow it was still satisfying. At the very least it helped him feel better about the ordeal he had just been through, and eventually he was even able to relax.

"Won't be long now." He said calmly, after several minutes had passed, "Are you still sure you want to..."

"You ask every time, and the answer isn't about to change." She sighed, gazing out to the lake as they always did, "Seems like a bad turn, though. You were doing well enough."

"No... Not a bad turn. Just the first one you've seen." He replied, "For me, just another rung on the ladder down."

She just nodded, letting the silence come over them for a few minutes more before he finally spoke again.

"It's not fair. I've only just met you, and I'm..."

She turned to look at him. He hadn't cried since he was a child, but he couldn't stop it now despite himself. His bottom lip was quivering, face contorted as he tried and failed to control it.

"I don't want to die."

She reached her hand across to take his gently off the armrest, letting her thumb stroke across his fingers as she watched him struggle with the mortality he had been trying so hard to defy.

"I'm not scared of anything." He said, trying to fight it back, "Not anything or anyone... Why am I scared of this?"

"Everyone is scared of this." She said quietly, giving the hand a squeeze, "But you won't face it alone. I won't allow it. I'll be here."

There were words he hated the sound of. Things that people said that the people they said it to should already know. He found himself choking on those words now, needing to say them and questioning his entire life because of it. There was no choice. Her very presence in his final days demanded it, and he couldn't deny that any longer.

"I love you, Rosie." He lowered his eyes, shaking his head at himself even as the words came out, "I love you."

She smiled, holding his hand and letting her eyes drift out to the lake once more, "You think I don't know?"

That brought a weak smile to his lips. She was so much like him, but so much better. He felt fortunate just to have known her, "I suppose you would."

Thomas deteriorated quickly after that. She had only come to see him for a couple of days a week at first, but after his collapse Annabelle was making two trips a day to fetch and deliver Rosie to the cabin to take care of him. Within a week of that she chose to just stay until the end. The last time they had sex was barely a week before he passed, but it was welcome and he was grateful for it.

The final night, she lay in bed next to him watching his breath become more and more labored. She told him over and over that it was going to be alright. He had already accepted his ending, but it helped to hear it just the same.

The game was long since over. No one had won... But even then he was willing to lose. Willing to say what so many others had deserved to hear, until the words would no longer form.

Willing to tell her he loved her.

She smiled every time he said it, not even trying to fight back her tears as she stroked his chest. He didn't need her to say it back. He already knew.

Minutes passed. Not many, but enough for him to fade. Enough for his vision to fail, and his gaze to lose itself into nothingness. He stared off at something that wasn't there. A sense of warmth came over him. A sense of peace.

And he smiled.

"Rosie sent me..."

She buried him the next morning. The plot was west of the cabin, down the hill a ways so as not to spoil the view. She left the note he'd written for his family on the table in the main room, and began the journey home with the Winchester '73 slung over her shoulder. He wanted her to have it. He didn't want her to forget him.

As if that was possible.

The hike home was a sad one, and it was every bit as rough as the last time she'd walked it. She could have called Annabelle to come pick her up instead, but her friend was right about one thing...

Rosie always took the most difficult path.

She took it because she knew the way...

And because it was a path worth taking.