Pulp Fiction: a Winter Story

It's almost February. The heavy snow has covered the main road from the village, leaving little space for the villagers to move from one place to another, let alone to travel to another village. It's been a brutal winter and the signs are that it is not over yet.

I was preparing the wood for the last fire that day, because it was already getting cold inside the cottage, and my father was getting ill. We had our wood counted by days, by hours. Since last June he could not work anymore, and I was doing my best to offer to both of us the chance to have food on the table and warmth inside the house during winter times. It's my fault I haven't taken the king's offer, I now regret the situation I put my father in, an honorable blacksmith, with such great history behind. Now he's an old man, that he can barely walk and talk, that stays under the blanket most of the time.

At least we had one goat left, which gave us sweet and warm milk, those were the most exciting moments during the day. The taste of the fresh milk gave me hope that we might make it another day.

"Wood for the village! Wood for the village!" I could hear each day, the wood merchant calling and selling wood for the people. Alas, I had no money left to buy any wood. I took one sheep cloth and put it over my shoulders, and with a fast move, I exit the cottage, in order to keep the hot air inside.

The wood merchant stopped in front of me.

"Miss, wood for your heart?"

"No, I'm afraid I am out of luck. Next week come by again." He left without hesitation and began yelling the same line.

I was so angry and jealous of all the people who bought the wood. It was like I was cursed to live this nightmare, but as long as I have my father next to me, it keeps me strong to move on.

"One more month!" I began aloud. "One more month and the Sun will gladly cover our lovely land again." Since I am outside, I might as well gather some clean snow to boil it for food and drinks, and perhaps if I would venture in the woods, I will have the chance to take something home for the fire.

It was getting colder with each hand of snow I was adding in the bucket. Minutes grew into hours, and I lost track of time. A tall bearded man was approaching from afar, cutting the snow in half, he was moving with ease as if he would melt the snow with every step he took. I could hardly hear him coming, so I surprisingly found him staring at me.

"Do you need help, lady?" his deep tone startled me, making me fall into the deep snow. He immediately helped me stand up. His powerful hands grabbed my waist and he pulled me up with such ease I thought I was a snowflake. His upper lip struggled to bring forth a smile from behind his long and thick dark brown beard.

"Thank you, dear man, for your help and kindness." My legs began to tremble, and I had a strange sensation in my stomach followed by tantalizing wetness between my legs. I blushed as it was really hard looking at him. It reminded me of the oath I promised to my mother, that I will never sell myself for anything and for anyone, that I will never abandon Father and will take great care of him, and that I will marry a good lad from the king's army to get rid of poverty. None of those promises had as much power as this stranger had over me, just by staring at me. I tried to say something else, but I just mumbled and took the bucket and tried to leave.

"Might I help you with that? You might need some wood too; the night will not be good with us tonight." He continued taking the bucket out of my hands and gather the small branches I managed to take during the last hours. He put the bucket's handle over his shoulder and the pile of wood in the same arm, covering me with the other, mostly trying to protect me from falling down again. I could not refuse his offer, leaving myself totally in his control.

I did not know anything about this man and it made me feel so anxious an uncomfortable. The more we approached my house, the more I wanted to stay in the cold winter with him. His warmth was enough for me to survive. But I kept telling myself reasons for not showing him where I live: what if he was a crook or a criminal? What if he helps me now so that he can rape and kill me later? What was I thinking? Trusting a stranger like this, I forgot what my father always told me, strangers are many and unknown at temper, but good people are few and hard to find too. A shiver down my spine welcomed me unexpectedly.

"Please good man, you helped me enough." I moved away from him, excusing myself as much as I could. And as I tried to get the water and wood from him...

"How can I leave you like this lady? The night is already settled. And for such a nice girl like you to wander around at night is not safe at all. I will not forgive myself if anything should happen to you!" He refused me, feeling proud of himself for being able to help.

"But what about you? Don't you have a place to go to? A Home? A wife and children? Why are you wandering the woods by yourself?" I fearlessly asked him.

"I am ashamed to say, I have no one to go back to, and no house. The looters came into our village and destroyed everything. One moon ago I fled the village, as there was nothing for me there. Ever since then I worked from place to place, to offer help and to survive."

So, he's no soldier either. I groaned thinking of the perfect man for me. I felt pity for the poor man, so I began blabbing like a fool.

"Then you can stay at my cottage for the night! It's just me and my father. But he is sick, he stays mostly in bed!" Damn fool, speaking nonsense, why didn't you just got undressed in front of him and let him pleasure himself with your inexperienced body. I began feuding with my mind. Father always told me I am a naïve girl. He was so right!

"I cannot imply, dear lady! It is too much, and I wouldn't want to disturb your father. He needs his rest!" He explained apologetically while leaning over me shortening the distance between us. He was with one head taller than me, I had to guess. I could only see his big and strong hand moving slowly to my face, covering a part of my white neck and warming a part of my left cheek. His tender touch terrified me, as I did not know what he was about to do. He put the other things down and he gazed into my black eyes as if he wanted to manipulate my soul.

"But it is so cold outside..." I tried to spell the right words, but there were none I could speak. I was mesmerized.

"If you must insist!" He continued without hesitation, seeing that his plan worked. His other hand came and felt my waist, moving up to my back, then he slowly pushed me closer to him. I could not feel his body because of the many clothes we were dressed with, but I could feel such an ardent man, which had so much passion for me, for the first time in my life. And I haven't experienced this wanting, only in my mind or by reading many books from Father. This felt so different than what the men wrote on paper. But the only thing I wanted then and there was to be with him. No matter where this goes, I will bring him home with me.

"You are welcome to come!" Were my last words before he felt raptured into closing a cold and rough kiss with me.

An hour later, we arrived at my house and we rapidly entered the front door. The main room was not as cold as I expected it to be. The fire was still burning in the fireplace. Father was sleeping on the nearest bed next to the fireplace. I could not wake him up.

"Poor Father! We will let him sleep and I will explain to him tomorrow." I took the wood from his arms and started igniting them so I can maintain the heat inside the house.

"Here, let me!" He whispered to me, taking his coat off, displaying some broad shoulders. Flipping up his sleeves to handle better the fire iron only astonished me, just to discover arms of a working man. The muscles began to flex exposing strong veins which played pulsating with each action he made, back and forth.

How can a godly creature like this come to me, a poor lone girl? Living my life without such a creature? Now is something I don't want to do! I wish he could just stay with me, with us for a while. He started to deepen my heart in ways I could not fathom.

Father heard movement, but he turned to one side and fell asleep again, not knowing I was with someone else. I was afraid more of my father now than I was afraid of this stranger.

"This should last for the night! But I will check on it early in the morning, you needn't worry!" he assured me while adding the rest of the wood we brought.

"But there is no wood left..." I confessed ashamed.

"I will find a way tomorrow! I promise!" I smiled to him, now hopeful that maybe our luck would turn around this time.

"You must be so hungry from the road... but there is no food left either. Only some bread. Please have it. And I will milk the goat and give you a fresh glass so you can regain your strength. Now please sit!" I grabbed his arm ecstatic and showed him the way to the table.

"Many thanks to you, dear lady!" He grabbed the bread and started pulling from it with insatiable desire.

I was just over the table waking up the goat. I washed my hands and positioned myself on a small chair near the goat, in such way he could see me and I could see him. We exchanged smiles and remained silent. My hands were slowly massaging the goat's udder, then I slipped my hand in the water so that my hands would run down over easily. It was getting warmer inside, and I saw him undoing the first buttons from his red and black shirt. He kept watching me, chewing the bread multiple times now. He stopped eating, then he brushed his hand through his beard, wondering.

I was getting that funny feeling again, which made my heart beat faster than normal, from the excitement of having a man other than my father staring at me. But this time was different, because he looked at me in such an inappropriate way, which made me think of bad thoughts. I blushed at the mere words which ran through my head. It was getting hot and I was effortfully trying to drain what else was left from the goat.

I only took half of a glass, but I could not stop. So, I took another piece of cloth off, and began again, with mixed movements, up and down, milking the poor goat, which started to giving me signs that she had enough.

"Here, this is all I could take out!"

I offered him an almost full glass of warm milk. And I swiped off the drops of sweat from my face. He stood up and grabbed my hands and the glass of milk.

"Thank you again!"

He took the glass and from two or three gulps he drank it all. I remained there with my hands over the glass and with his hands over mine. My whole body began to tremble once more, and the horrid feeling between my legs made me blush again. He put down the glass and sat on the chair, inviting me to stay in his lap. I did not refuse his invitation, though I wasn't aware of what he wishes me to do next. He welcomed me into his embrace, stuffing his head into my hair, smelling it rigorously. I froze and began to have the shivers again. It was not from the cold but from that weird sensation inside. Instinctively I tilted my head back, allowing him to start kissing my neck. His rough beard was compensated by his moistly and soft lips. My nipples turned hard and I drew even closer to him in such manner I discovered a hard bone between his legs. It must be the bone my friend described. She said that I mustn't be afraid of the bone, because it's not like the other bones. It gets softer if you don't engage with it.

He stood up and at the same time holding me in the air, so I put my legs around him so I cling to him better. With one hand, he vigorously pushed all the things from the table aside, creating a burst of sounds. We both looked in the direction of Father, but he kept on snoring, so we continued, smiling at each other. This way he had my approval to make me feel like a real woman. He gently sat me over the table and quickly took his shoulder straps off and came right back to me, moving his hands over my body, starting with my waist, and softly removing my blouse, now leaving me only in my night transparent long shirt. The shape of my breasts was giving him such great satisfaction, as I could see the longing and fired passion in his eyes. The fireplace was creating a shadow theater that was projected on the opposite wall. He removed his shirt leaving him with his chest opened. The shadow was covering a part of his body, giving me enough mystery so I can want him more, and more. I pulled him nearer with my left leg, but still, the shadows were not giving me a rest. He took off my leather pants. I felt ashamed as no man has ever done that to me, or even saw me naked like that. But I was still patient to know how it feels like to be manhandled.

He started touching my breasts, feeling the nipples with his thumb, making me feel such discomfort and anxiety I've only felt when I realized men existed and that great responsibilities lie ahead. He pulled my legs and spread them apart, then dragged me even closer to him, pressing his bone over my pelvis. I felt how my whole body wanted to close down, scared of not knowing what would come after. I wanted to give up, so I tried to close my legs, but he stepped closer and pushed even more. I felt uneasy letting him to decide what he can do to me. His movements were making his bone grow even stronger, harder, and I became easily moistened due to his stubborn attempt to plunge it into me. I tried to hang on his arms, to have the real taste of a man, he responded, leaning down over me, caressing my head and cheeks. He started kissing me, with slow and calculated movements, as if he was afraid he might hurt me. But to his surprise, I responded with such desire that I couldn't even imagine. There's nothing compared to the experience of doing something when you really want to. I was excitingly curious. So I whispered to him.

"Take your pants off!"

He complied, revealing a very unpleasant bone, which moved like a branch of a tree. If that will be as hard as a tree, I rather not have any man at all. I thought at that moment. So I stood up embarrassed, trying to excuse myself. He saw my disappointment, but he would not stop. He pulled me next to him and forced me to feel his muscular body. I could feel his bone through the long sleeping shirt, trying to make its way into the most unexplored cave, the whole of it. As much as I opposed his savage way of touching me, I would give in little by little. I could have yelled, waking up my father, but what could he have done? How bad can this get? I kept thinking and rethinking the situation, and the only way I was going to get out of this was by letting myself be his object of pleasures.

He ripped my shirt in half revealing my chest opened, and he started taking each breast in his hand, grabbing it with his lips, tasting the nipple, sucking it and then moving his tongue around it, in circular ways. Such a thrilling and new experience made me realize that it wasn't going to be as bad as I thought. My heart began to beat faster, and I could not abstain from gasping for air and moaning in pleasure. He pushed me back over the table and removed my shirt off. Now I felt even more miserable, as I knew I wanted him to take me. He kissed my lips, with great care, as he positioned his bone straight at the entrance of my cave. Feeling the softer part of the bone, created an arousing fountain of pleasure and wanting, that it made me move and push myself as if my body was begging for the encounter.

While his hands moved over my body, and his lips were touching my lips, my chin, my neck, and my chest, he tilted his head up and looked at me. Then to my surprise, I felt a staggering pain stabbing me. Once - I moaned. Twice - I cried. And then every movement he made back and forth, forth and back, was even more enjoyable, pleasurable and spectacular than before. Now the shadows were playing an artistic dance of delight through the senses. Body to body, bone to cave. He did not leave me to breathe, he kept on thrusting into me, deep and hard, until I heard him starting to moan as well. He began straining his muscles, easily locking me into his arms. He moaned even louder as somehow my cave became thoroughly wet inseminating me with his warm milk.

The morning came faster than before. And I woke up alone in bed. I could hear some noise coming from outside and I stood up to look out the window. It was him, my rapist, my violator, my executioner, he was cutting logs of wood. I put some clothes on and climbed downstairs to see him closer. Father was awake and he was mumbling something, he directed my attention to that stranger, and he smiled and seemed happy the man was here, to help us. I figure that is the only story he told.

As I opened the door, a dry still coldness hit my nostrils, but that didn't stop me from breathing in the fresh air of the morning. I went just right around the corner of the cottage but staying there for a bit to observe him. He had the strength of a bear, the speed of a tiger and the looks of a man. He would take the big axe, waving it in the air, and with a spike of energy he swung it straight into the vertically placed log, splitting it into kindling. The easiness of his actions made me step out from the hiding corner and run straight into his arms. I wanted him to split my whole body too with his violent kisses. He dropped the axe to the ground and welcomed me in his arms.

It was never like my friend mentioned it would be, that the man is a brute creature and he will never care for you. I learned through only one night that passion and love can have multiple ways of displaying to the person that you love. I could only enjoy this unexpected happiness which protruded my veins in such a short time. I was not afraid anymore, Father seemed to be happy too, then there was left only the promises I made to my mother. Although she might not understand, the Gods sent me this man, and it would be an offense to refuse the chance to a happy and hopeful life. I don't know what I feel in my heart, but he is the first one to accept me and he was the first to help me the first moment he laid his eyes on me. I do not know his name, but I call him Love. And that will remain until the end of our time.

THE END