Partisan

The rapping on the door is louder than I intended but I have little time to waste. Just standing still, the cold, the wet chilled me. If this one isn't ready or prepared for the journey then I'll be glad of an earlier end to my piloting days. Sturdy I am, but the years of this war are wearing my body and tightening my nerves. Peasant I was and peasant I'll be glad to return to if I survive these troubles.

The heavy door, a cautious face and I am swept inside. Patrols are frequent and these outlying farms are viewed with suspicion. A clasping of arms and then a nod to the creature warming at the fire, my neighbour indicates my next and last fugitive waiting for guidance over the mountains to freedom.

Creature I say, but dismay enters my heart when instead of a healthy male, it's a female, young - I dearly hope strong but... looking her over there's worse to see - unsuitable shoes, flimsy dress, scarf and thin jacket - at least, everything is of a dark colour.

A nod and a curt "Come on", and we are away into the sleet. She'll learn or die. I mutter instructions under my breath,

"No talking, make little noise, shortly we'll have you suitably dressed. We have no papers so we avoid every contact. If I halt, you halt, if I wave you back, step behind me, if I wave you down, drop. Keep up, and if you obey orders, we both might live. "

Paying no attention to any response, scanning the gloom, listening, I start out upwards, for the pass, stepping beside the pathway already too worn by me and others before me.

An hour later we have risen above all farms, I can hear her breath catching and see out the corner of my eye what's left of her shoddy shoes. Quiet she is, and stubborn it seems - should help us ahead, if it's coupled with fear.

Turning aside, I make for the hut used for staging the refugees, away from the trail, buried in the trees. Checking for signs that others have found the place, I see none, so usher her inside, quickly shutting the door and by the light of a torch, find matches and oil lamp and light.

Rummaging in a chest, I find the clothes I have in mind. Youth's clothes, woollen shirt, trousers and sturdy boots with socks. A coarse jacket and dark cap will keep her warm for the rest of the ascent. Dropping them on the table, I motion her to get dressed. She touches them tentatively, then looks back at me, while I wait with my arms crossed, leaning against the wall, grinning.

Knowing she's in my power and that I hold the key to her escape, she turns to the clothes and peels off the female garb she's wearing. The soft light of the lamp shines on her emerging limbs and I enjoy her discomfort at having to change in front of me. I see she is from the south with her golden skin and dark hair with deep brown eyes, now looking at me with distrust. I chuckle out loud at her lack of underwear, she must have dressed in a hurry, and she puzzles over my thoughts. No matter, time we got on the way now she has pulled on the rough clothes and tied the boots securely.

Turning off the lamp, I lead the way out the door, retracing our steps back to the path and turn upwards again, this time knowing we have an even chance, being better equipped with the supplies from the hut. We plod along, my ears listening for stray sounds, unusual sounds, human sounds, for they are to be feared. The clouds clear and stars bright in the inky void, colder it gets and sharp in my lungs. She keeps pace with me, until, waving her back, we come to the serried rows of barbed wire separating the two countries. A no-man's land we must cross, with few gullies or features to hide us, but I know them all and angling away, find the section of wire that will let us through.

Whispering for her to lay down on her back, I cover her body with mine. Her startled eyes glare at me, but smiling, I draw out of my pocket a loop of soft canvas. Drawing her wrists up, twisting the loop around them I complete her entrapment by passing it over my head. I can see she doesn't like the forced intimacy, our faces are close, we breathe each others air, but it is the surest way of getting up both past the many strands of wire.

Using my elbows and boots I start the long crawl dragging her beneath my body. I scent her just as the voices appear to be moving our way. Leaning down I place my mouth beside hers and whisper,

"We have to stop a little while. " then I kiss her with my mouth open and tongue ranging into hers, exploring, tasting, my little jest in the face of danger. She twists her mouth away, anger gleaming in her eyes.

The voices fade and I return to crawling with her, grinning. Once clear of the strands, I unwind the loop and let her roll and crawl behind me. Almost a third of the way across the no-man's land, I freeze, as from a distance I hear the language of our masters. Gauging the distance to the nearest cover, I lean back and urge her to follow swiftly. We tumble into a cut in the land to wait out the danger.

My hand starts to roam over her dark form. She whispers protests into my ear, fury making her too loud, so I clamp my hand over her mouth. Knowing we should spend some time here, while the patrols sort themselves out and pass along to the furthest range of their patrols, I settle in. My hand strays to the the waistband of her trousers, sliding across her belly, exploring flesh I've not enjoyed for a long time. This I want, I feel a stirring, and the danger makes it more exciting.

Pressing lower my fingers feel her labia and she starts to buck but my thighs grip her legs and she's pinioned, in my arms and under me. Removing my hand from her mouth I replace it with my mouth as I continue rubbing her mound and clit. Using one hand to capture her wrists above her head, I release my now leaking erection.

Fumbling at her waistband, thumb flicking open the buttons, I drag her loose trousers down. Struggling wildly, silently, I ignore her and, forcing her thighs apart, enter her, her warm depths, the female I've not had except in memory. Her struggles slow, my tongue plays with hers, and gradually she relaxes, reconciled perhaps, but still glaring in the dim light.

Too soon, much too soon, I quicken, and explode into her. I collapse beside her, breathing hard, and she turns her face and body away from me. Smiling in the dark - I never thought to extract payment before. She will remember this journey and me, though mayhap I'll be dead before the war is over. Who knows, chance, luck, fate - yet my country struggles on.

Time drifts on, the cold reaching our bones until, the sounds of the guards recede and it's time to melt away from our vulnerable position, so close to the border. Her fumblings with the unfamiliar buttons make me grin, but I'll not touch her again. Creeping then striding, we resume the trek, warmth returning to our limbs from the exercise. The ground gradually gets less rough and starts to slope downwards, easing the strain on backs and feet. The hut well within safety, emerges from the gloom. Here we can rest, clean up and pass into the village where she'll be on the bus and into the free world. I'm sure she'll be glad of that, poor waif.

Pushing into the single room, I immediately light the laid fire, collect two buckets of water and place them close to warm. Rough towels, soap I find, then turn to the tins of food, opening as much as we need to replace that consumed in energy and stress over the journey. She watches me, silently, dark eyes unreadable. Sitting to eat with a fork from each can in turn, she follows greedily until we both slow our chewing, still not communicating any emotions to each other.

Clearing away, I check the water, warm enough. Stripping off my clothes and boots,she turns away,as I hoist a bucket and step out into cold air. Pouring half over my hardened body, I scrub away the grime, then sluice with the other half, chill attacking my skin. Hurriedly I return inside, rub down dry, and throw on a thick shirt. Taking the other, larger bucket, I place it in the middle of the room, indicating the towels, soap, I say,

"It's too cold for you to wash outside, do it here, I'll not touch you again. "

To emphasise her safety, I lie down on the bed across the room, close my eyes, and start to relax my body, and my mind, letting the anxiety of the journey seep out of me.

Warily watching me, she steps up to the bucket and starts peeling off her clothes. I watch idly with half closed eyes, drifting, exhausted. Quietly she removes boots, socks, then jacket and turning away from me, she drops the shirt to the floor. A beauty she is, lithe, smooth and golden. Pulling off the cap her hair tumbles free, a gleaming black mass halfway down her back. A rounded muscled ass as she steps into the bucket and bends for the soap and cloth. Dragging the wet cloth over her skin it gleams with rivulets, my pulse quickens but I keep my eyes half shut, in the shadow, so she will not be alarmed. I keep my promises.

But roam I do over her curves, and as she moves her breasts appear to me, full, yet matching her athletic form, nipples drawn in the cool air, and the pale areola of a woman not yet born children. The cloth spreads foam over her belly, mound and dark pelt, down through her thighs, removing traces of me, perhaps removing me from her memory too. As she bends, her breasts are emphasised and I would dearly like to cup them, kiss them.

Sighing silently, I roll over and let myself into a slumber, her body weaving itself into my dreams. Another time, another place, the two of us, exploring each other, hands outstretched, gentle smiles on our faces, the pleasure of a new lover, I dream of her hands on me, so real...

So real I rise to waking and I find she is real and beside me, leaning down, smiling. Holding out my arms, hardly believing, she moves into them, lying on me as I open my shirt and draw her close. Her delicate hands stroking my chest, my rough face, holding my shoulders as she rises, spread her legs and lowers herself down onto my hard cock. Affection, forgiveness, and gentle smile on her beautiful face. She rides me, swinging her hips down and I rise to meet her, so different from before, a terrible memory. Groaning with shame, now erased with pleasure, I arch to orgasm deep within her as her breath catches, her voice mews, and she joins me.

We lay there entwined, dozing, recovering, until faint light gleams at the shutters. We stir for the day, the day we'll part. Arm around her shoulders, smiling, stopping to kiss, descending to the village. I'll send her on her way, turn back for home... will she ever return... my Jacinta