Chapter 7: Frolicking in Heat
"Errrm….. Huhhhh….. Uhhhhh…. Mmmmm….. Hmmmm... Faster…. Faster…."
I've spread my thighs for him once again so we can go at it for a frantic fuck in the grass. As Peeta moves between my legs, I try to muffle my moans by biting into my hand, though I'm not sure it matters. We are in the Meadow, where I've rarely if ever seen anyone else venture, the tall grass and flowers surrounding us helping to conceal our frenzied movements. My blue skirts have been shoved up around my hips, and his pants are around his knees, open just enough to free his cock, which he is driving into me mercilessly. My shirt is pushed up as well, and he had wrenched my bra cup out of the way so he could lavish my left breast with his tongue and his teeth.
On one particular stroke of my clit with his fingers, I yelp loudly – "OHHHH!" - my attempt at relative silence forgotten. He hastily covers my lips with his, licking his way into my mouth. He swallows my moans as I frantically buck my hips in time with his thrusts, forcing his hand to bear down harder between my thighs. I feel the momentum of my orgasm barreling through me, and I can't fucking stand it any longer—I wrench my mouth from his to dip my head back and cry out as I cum.
When Peeta finishes, he rests his head on my chest as he catches his breath. Then, groaning, he crawls out from between my legs and pushes the hem of my blue dress back down for me, smoothing the skirt down. I feel boneless, relishing in the euphoria of my orgasm, trying not to think about anything other than the satiation of my body. Peeta flops down on his back beside me, his breathing labored, and I watch as he removes the condom and dumps the contents on the ground, stuffing it back into its pouch. His arms drop to the ground after he's buttoned his pants up, and he lets out a huff, staring up at the sky.
"Fuck," he mutters, and I sigh, turning my gaze to the sky.
"Fuck," I agree. I'm still not sure why I seem to lose all rational thought in his presence, why I can't stop. Why I am seeing him, fucking him, behind his family's back. It's bad enough my sister is on to us. I only feel marginally less guilty knowing that Prim is still safe back at the Bakery. All I know is that, at least in this moment, it feels right, like being with Peeta is what I am meant to do, that's where I'm supposed to be.
We had tried to resist, meeting in the Meadow on the rare moment of reprieve from working together in close quarters, first just to talk, then, just to kiss, then, just to touch, to reduce each other to quivering messes with our hands, as if somehow that wrong is less egregious—but ultimately, we were just delaying the inevitable. We both knew where it was heading; we both knew we wanted more (why else had he brought a condom with him?). So, when his hand had danced teasingly between my legs, under my panties, I realized what I wanted was his cock filling me up, not his fingers, so I pulled him on top of me and freed him of his trousers. Peeta quickly got the hint.
We're both quiet for a moment, and a cool breeze rustles my hair, cooling my face. I close my eyes. It's starting to get colder these days. School is going to start again soon, and then I won't see Peeta as much—if at all. With how busy the last year, year and a half of Upper School is, we will have no time for secret rendezvouses in the Meadow.
I can stop seeing him then, I tell myself, cut all ties. I just want a little more time with him until then, just another taste of the happiness I've found, writhing underneath him, before I have to let him go again.
Fingers smooth over my brow, and I open my eyes to find Peeta watching me. He has rolled onto his side, and he is caressing my forehead, my cheek. I can't help herself; I smile. The corner of his mouth curls up, though his eyes are a cloudy blue. He shifts closer to press a kiss to my temple, but he rests his forehead on mine, his mouth brushing my ear. I can feel his warm breath, and it makes me shiver.
"I know I shouldn't say this," he starts, his voice low, "but what I wouldn't give to be able to strip you naked and worship your body the way you deserve so you can scream as loud as you want."
No, he mustn't say that. But I love to hear it all the same. Biting my lip, I curl against his chest and tuck my head under his chin. "Me too," I whisper, and he wraps his arm around me to hold me close.
Peeta peers over the rim of the bushes, observing the rabbit gnawing on a walnut. He takes a deep breath and readies the bow. Pulling the arrow back on the string, he lets it fly. WHOOSH! The arrow goes wide, going completely in the wrong direction and impaling into a tree 30 feet to the rabbit's right. Startled, the little creature disappears into the underbrush.
"Damn!" Peeta curses, standing up out of his crouch. "Either I'm doing something really wrong, or your bow just doesn't like me, sweetheart." He turns to me, his secret lover, where I lean against another tree steps away. I give him one of her rare, glorious laughs and a smug smile as I saunter over to him. I had expected something like this to happen when I first offered, a blushing mess, to bring him with me into the woods when I go to hunt for his family as part of my indentures. What I hadn't expected was for him to be so loud! Honestly, it's a miracle he hasn't scared all the game away.
"Nothing could dislike you, honey," I chuckle. "Therefore, assume you are doing something wrong. Can you guess what?"
Peeta ponders for a moment, even recreating his last shot before giving a helpless shrug.
I grin patiently. As a teacher, I will pass down what Gale and my father had taught me as a little girl. Lead your pupil through the steps, encouraging them to think for themselves until they come to the answer on their own.
"Get into your stance," I order. My lover obeys me. Instantly, I discover it's not his stance that is off, per se – his feet are planted just as I had shown him. His posture is what is wonky.
I envelop him in a hug from behind, holding him by the waist. "Straighten that back," I instruct. "Stomach muscles taught." I can feel the muscles in his lower torso tighten, only allowing myself to admire them briefly, lest sudden dirty thoughts distracted me from my task.
I then move my hands to Peeta's shoulders. "Elbow down," pressing the elbow of his bow arm down so it is streamlined to the rest of his body. My fingers run over the hand gripping the bow. "Relax the grip just slightly…." I notice how he is squinting. "And one more thing, dear - keep both eyes open when you shoot. You'll see twice as well." Peeta adjusts.
Just then, I see something out of my peripheral vision: a deer, positioned at ten o'clock, munching on some grass. It hasn't seen us.
"Peeta," I whisper in his ear. "Without leaving your stance, turn about 75 degrees to the left. There! You see it?" He nods.
"Now… feel the energy flowing through. Relax, darling. Take a deep breath, and on the exhale…. Release."
WHOOSH! The arrow flies swift and sure, and undeniably straight. It hits the deer right in its center rib, felling the creature instantly.
Peeta's tenseness deflates and he stares, before the most boyish grin appears on his face. "I got it! I got it!"
He barely says this before a silky hand cups his chin and turns it back, before I give him the softest kiss on the lips. I pull away with a beaming smile.
"Very good, my love. You're learning. That buck should feed half the district and us for a week, at least. How about this: for every bulls-eye, you get a kiss just like that. Deal?"
Peeta grins and gives me wife a warm kiss in return. I hum in pleasure against his mouth, deepening it briefly before we break apart.
"Deal," Peeta agrees. "You'll make a hunter out of me yet, my sexy, grey-eyed beauty. How about another kiss for luck?"
I just smirk coyly at her lover's seductive overtures. "Show me you can get back into a proper stance, Bread Boy. Then we'll see."
Peeta just shakes his head and takes his stance.
It isn't long, though, before we forget hunting and are ravaging each other. Lifting me in his arms easily, Peeta pins me against a tree and begins to furiously hump against my thighs as they grip him about his middle. Someone – we don't know or care who – shove my hunting trousers down to my ankles and then he is inside me, moving viciously. I moan and buck against him, seizing his buttocks in my fist as I rutt my hips back in perfect harmony. I can see through the slit of my closed eyelids how cherry blossoms are floating, tumbling down from the branches above us, dislodged from the tree against which we are making love.
I cum first, with a whimper. Peeta pulls out gentlemanly before he can follow me in orgasm and sets me down gently. Collecting myself with far more dignity than I should feel after being so thoroughly shagged, I suddenly grin wickedly and strip the rest of the way down to my underthings. Holding out my hands to him, I beckon, "Come on. I'll teach you how to swim."
The lake by the old hunting cabin is the same one where Daddy taught his daughters how to tread water when Prim and I were little. Holding Peeta tenderly in my arms, I teach him the basic strokes. Laughing gaily at him as I watch him try to float on his back, my sounds of mirth quickly turn into a gasp of shock as Peeta's strong hands unexpectedly encircle me and pull me under.
Amidst the frothing bubbles, I briefly panic, held tightly to my paramour in a fierce, arduous (what I hope is an arduous) embrace. Peeta's palms grip my skull and I thrash until he suddenly yanks my head forward and kisses me deeply on the lips, and his mouth is working my own open in a hot, messy rhythm even as I try to avoid gulping in water. My grey orbs pop in surprise at his boldness, but after a few moments, as I feel him actually breathe air into my lungs, they soften, and I kiss him back. I don't even care how he clearly dragged me under here as a pretense to get frisky with me again, for he almost too easily undresses me of my bra and panties, so that his dick is free to swiftly enter me. When it becomes clear from the way I kiss him back that I'm not going anywhere, Peeta lets his hands drop from my face to fondle my breasts, cupping the swell of them. His fingers dance over my budding, aroused nipples, and I shiver, pressing myself sultrily against him. Our bodies jerk and move in tandem underwater, the dying sunlight not reaching down far enough to reveal how we are coupling like dogs in heat, just under the ripples.
For air, we finally have to break the surface, though our kiss itself does not break. Swimming lazily over to the shallows, Peeta takes me up against a group of half-submerged boulders; with every thrust and joining of our hips, a delicious smacking sound is made, and ripplies, small waves, percolate out from where we are so flagrantly having sex. Drawing my partner deep inside me, I can only sigh and moan like the dirty woman I am, taking a lover like this. Yet, still my cries are pitiful and pleasured and torn from my kiss-swollen lips only for this man now wrapped in my arms.
"Huhhhhh... Uhhhhhh... Hmmmmmmmm! MMMMMMMMMM!"
We both cum against one another, together as one.