*Note - this is a chapter in the Fiona Files. These stores can be considered semi-autobiographical fiction, or just fiction. In these stories I will talk about Johnny and Fiona. Johnny is always the same person, mostly me. The Fiona Files is Johnny's journey. The character of Fiona is a mash of women, real and imagined. Enjoy. Please let me know if you have enjoyed my stories.
NewRyder
The Fiona Files II - String of Days
Part I
I met Fiona when she blew through a red light and I broadsided her Alpha. I was able to kick the bumper of my truck back into place but her Alpha was now an organ donor. When the tow rig left she looked at me and said, "Alpha's fucked". When I asked if I could drop her somewhere she swung her pack into my truck and said, "your place". To say Fiona was quiet would be an understatement. She was nearly mute. But from the moment she slammed the door of my truck I knew that we would be together. Not that I wished we would be together - I knew we would be together. That much I was sure of. The rest was a surprise.
I stole glances at her in those first minutes. She had boyish hair, a little long and swept to the right, parted on the left. Not much tit that I could see. Her legs were shaved, brown and strong, she wore cutoffs, longer than a girl would wear and a dirty tour tee shirt. She caught me looking and I swerved to get back in the lane, Fiona looked back me without expression and pushed a Dylan CD into the dash. After a while she settled into the corner of the seat, tucked her leg up, rested her chin on her knee and took a long time checking me out.
"Your name?" she said finally.
"'cuse me?", swerve.
A laugh. "Your name. What's your name?", her chin still on her knee.
I took another look. She had pool deep brown eyes I don't think she cared if she blinked or not.
"Johnny. John. Johnny." I said like I had to recall my own name, the color rose in my face.
"Fiona." She said.
"'cuse me?".
"Fiona, my name, call me Fio."
In all time I knew Fiona she never asked for money. I never saw her use a phone. Never saw a check book or a credit card. I didn't root through her bag or go through her pockets. I didn't ask questions. I took every day as it came. I took every day with her as a gift.
When we got back to the house Yeller greeted her like she'd been gone for weeks. My usually stand offish best friend had just adopted a new master. While I cooked a diner Fiona alternately flopped and paced, Yeller at her heels or watching her the whole time. We ate and drank without a word, Fiona cleaned up. I put up my lunch for the morning and got into the shower.
I was face to the spray when the curtain pulled back and Fiona stepped in with me. I turned to look at her but she twisted my shoulders back and began to wash me. She started with my hair, moved to my chest and belly, then washed my erection. I was standing legs spread, arms up and out bracing myself. Fiona, soaped my cock and balls and then started on the crack of my ass. She washed me up and down and with a finger, washed me inside too. We still had not spoken since we had eaten, or at least Fio hadn't. Fiona turned me and we kissed and embraced. I never once thought that I should say anything, I waited for her to speak and if she didn't, I figured we were good.
Now I washed Fiona. She melted into me. I pressed my iron against her hot buttock and washed her hair. I felt the shape of her skull in my hands, felt her face relax and the grace of her neck. I soaped her muscled shoulders and with both hands washed her little tits. Fio pushed herself harder against me and my cock stood upright between her cheeks. I soaped her belly and then probed her sex. The wetness of the shower met with the slickness of her juices and I finger fucked her to climax. When she was done she reached between her legs and guided me home, bending at the waist to take my cock until we were as close as two people can be. We moved together in silence, the water spraying over her back, the rivulets finding the channels of her spine and ribs and then running down her honey colored moons. When she was ready for me she reached around and clamped a hand on my ass cheek and jerked her body against me until I came and came hard. I could feel myself burst and pump deep into her. I held Fio around the waist with both hands, pulled her up onto her toes and tried to bury my cock deep until the burning stopped.
Fio turned and kissed me. She locked onto me with her almond eyes, "Johnny? Do you believe what they say, that if you save a life, that you then take responsibility for that life?"
I turned the water off and pushed her hair back. There was nothing remarkable about her face, it was almost bland, unfinished, but it had a perfect symmetry and balance, it was a face you could spend a lifetime painting and would always want to look upon one more time. "Yeah, I guess I do. Yeah." I said. But even as I answered, the question rang in my head; whose life has been saved?
Fiona pecked me on the lips pinched me, "I'm going to need some clothes."
"No problem."
Part II
Next morning I packed up and headed out to the truck. Fiona followed me onto the porch, Yeller along side. I threw a ladder on the rack and lashed it down.
"Hey Johnny." Fio called.
"Yeah. Fio."
"Did I forget to say thanks?" she asked taking a seat on the step.
I looked at her then, forearms resting on her knees, coffee steam blowing east and wondered how to answer that. Yeller and I had been living alone for years. I had really given up on chasing women and was concentrating on learning about myself and becoming comfortable in my skin. I read books, Jack London, Conrad, Toni Morrison, all kinds of stuff. I'd done allot of drugs, had fast friends, slept with friends of friends. Now I was banging nails and living by the river. I looked at this woman sitting on my stoop that my dog seemed to know the moment he met her. A woman who really didn't need to speak. I mean it was strange. She just didn't need to chatter and comment on useless things. She had no external dialog, none at all, I could be in the room with her not feel the need to fill the space with noise.
I reached into the truck and tossed her a set of keys.
"What are these?" she asked finger sorting them.
"To the Datsun."
"That?" she said pointing to the '73 B210 under the maple.
"Does it run?"
"Yeah it runs. Good car. No AC. Just don't blow through any red lights." I said from the door of the truck.
"I'll be home a little after five." I turned the key and brought the truck to life.
"Hey Johnny!" She yelled over the engine noise, then trotted over to the truck.
"Hey, Johnny! Thanks." she said
"Now you've thanked me." I threw the rig in gear and headed down the road with a smile and hard-on.
"No. Thank you Fio." I said to myself.
Part III
Fiona pulled her shirt over her head, tossed it on the rail of the wagon and leaned back on open palms. Her hair was longer now than when we'd met and she wore it tied back, if anything it made her look more boyish. I liked that about her, her boyish looks, her slim hips and her little breasts. But while she may have had boyish looks; if you put her in a short skirt and and a tank top, you could watch the women watch their men. Fiona was attractive and possessed a nonchalance that caused men to do things to get her attention. Months of working in the woodlot and gardens and toughened her hands. Her skin, that was honey colored when she crashed into my life was now bronzed and freckles ran across the bridge of her nose. Fiona was still quiet but in our months together she had become relaxed, playful and affectionate.
The light of the burn pile played across her bare shoulders and erect nipples. The fire highlighted the plains of her face and cast it half in shadow. Her eyes were dark pools that flashed amber. I stood between her legs and worked to button of her shorts. Fio pressed warm course hands hard against my stomach and roughly inspected my ribs, chest, shoulders and arms. I tensed my body as she made her way. When she squeezed a muscle I flexed it. I liked her hands on me and I wanted my body to please her. She opened my jeans, pushed them down, then laid back and shucked off her shorts.
On my knees now I pushed my face into her pussy. I inhaled deeply through my nose and dug my toes into the cool earth. The two of us were dirty and sweaty. Fio's pussy smelled of urine and musk. I parted her damp hair and dug my tongue into her sweet clean folds. I knew how she liked to eaten. She had shown me. "Here" she would say placing a finger on the spot to lick. "Here" she would say reaching for her g-spot. I took my time. I enjoyed the dirty, tangy scent of her sex and labor. I enjoyed having my tongue in her, of gently pulling her clit between my lips. I took my time so that I could look up at her in the shifting light of the fire. So I could watch the rise and fall of her belly as she breathed. I ran my tongue over the sensitive parts of her sex and watched her ribs rise as she arched her back. I drew out her sweet juices and smelled the piss in her hair and watched her twist her graceful neck and chin and saw the fire glint off a single tooth from her open mouth. When she came she kicked hard against my shoulders, rolled her hips up and invited me to push hard and lick deeply into her snatch. Fio's juices flowed heavy now, thick and sweet. I drew her honey out with my tongue time and again until she relaxed and her breathing slowed. She held my one hand against her belly and with the other I pulled on my cock. I held it tightly and moved the skin up and back in a frenzy until my hot seed exploded into the cool night air. We stayed like that for a for a long time, Fiona on her back and me with my mouth on her sex, stroking my cock and fondling my balls. I could see that Fiona's eyes were open and that she was watching the sparks from the fire as they rose into the night sky and died.
Part IV
It was a Saturday morning. I wandered out of bed and found Fio drinking coffee and reading a book, she was in her running clothes.
"Burnt Pond?" she asked putting her book aside. No good morning or anything, just right to the question.
"Burnt Pond it is." I replied reaching for the coffee grinder.
"Coffee's made." she said without looking up.
"Okay." I reached for a bagel and the knife.
"Bagel's all set and packed."
