Crash N Burn Ch 04

Note: This is the fourth of a six-part series. I strongly advise reading Chapter 3 before this one. Be aware that this story contains incest.

DAYBREAK

I woke to the sound of birds chirping outside, reminding me of our first morning at Algonquin. The tent was still dark, though there was the hint of light at the entrance. My sleeping partner was wrapped around me, arms holding me tightly. I didn't need any light to know that we were both completely naked. Or that we were both aroused. Her breasts were pressing against my side, and one leg was draped across my hips, pressing on my hard cock. My right leg was nestled in her hot, damp crotch.

I sighed and turned to kiss her forehead. She gave a soft moan and shifted so she was straddling one leg. The sleeping bag was too tight to move around much, so she unzipped it about half-way. The air was a bit cold, but I was not complaining.

"Want a morning wakeup?" she whispered in my ear.

"Mmm. Excellent idea."

Her mouth trailed kisses up my neck and her hips slid over mine. There was a trail of wetness where her pussy rubbed across my leg. She pulled her knees up and straddled my hips. Her lips found mine for a long, sensuous kiss. Her pussy was rubbing along my cock almost immediately, and I wasted no time sliding into her.

"Oh, yeah. Fuck me, baby. Make me scream."

I began to thrust into her, and she rocked her hips to give me some wonderful sensations. I pressed her shoulders back, forcing her to sit up part-way. Just enough for me to take one of her tits in my mouth. She cried out as I sucked on a nipple.

"Yes, baby. Bite it, just a bit."

I grabbed her other breast with my hand as I began to gently bite her hard nipple. She began to scream, her body shaking as I continued to thrust into her pussy. Her fingernails dug into my chest as she ground her hips down against me. When the orgasm ended, she pulled my head away from her chest. Leaning down, she gave me a long kiss, sticking her tongue down my throat. Her face was still indistinct shadow in the early dawn light. She pulled back and chuckled softly.

"Stop for a second."

I paused my thrusting, and she spun around to face away from me. My cock slipped out of her as she turned, but it was back in her hot cunt before I could feel the cool air. She leaned forward a bit and pressed her hips down on me.

"Okay. Fuck me, baby. Give me all you've got."

I had both hands on her hips now and began to thrust up, penetrating her pussy as far as I could. The angle allowed very deep penetration, and she was moving opposite to my thrusts. It was just light enough now for me to make out a few details, and I could see blonde hair dancing across her back as she bounced on my cock. She had one hand between her legs, the other massaging her breasts. I could feel myself getting close, but I wanted her to come again first. I slid a hand up her spine and felt her shiver under my touch. She gave a soft cry, so I repeated the caress.

"I love that. Thumb me with your other hand."

"Sorry?"

"Put your thumb in my ass. There's enough of my juices splashing around that it'll slide right in."

I moved my left hand to the base of her spine, sliding the thumb down her ass crack. She mewed like a cat in heat and pushed her hips back as I teased her rosebud. I slid across a couple more times, making her growl with impatience. Laughing softly, my thumb circled her asshole, dipping down near her pussy to pick up her juices. I pressed the tip of my thumb against her, and she seemed to open up for me. I took that as an invitation and slowly pushed into her ass. Once I was past the sphincter, she seemed to suck my thumb right in. Obviously, she had some experience with anal play. My thumb added a new sensation, and I could feel it pressing against the top of my cock. I let my fingernails scratch down her back as my thumb and cock moved in and out of her holes.

"Fuck!" she screamed. "Harder, baby."

"Harder with what?"

"Everything. Cock, thumb, nails. Scratch me, fuck me, ream my ass!"

I picked up speed, thrusting as hard as I could into her pussy. My thumb kept pace, burying itself into her ass. I bent the fingers of my right hand, scratching her back. She leaned against my fingernails, and I pressed harder.

"God, yes. Mark me, baby. Make me yours!"

I dug my fingers into the soft flesh of her back, scratching furrows in her flawless skin. Her body suddenly spasmed, shaking above me. At the same time, her ass and pussy squeezed tightly around my thumb and cock. She screamed at the top of her lungs as she came, and I joined her with my own climax.

After she settled, she leaned forward to catch her breath, holding my thumb and cock inside her tightly. After a couple minutes, she lifted her hips, pulling off my cock. I started to remove my thumb, but she stopped me.

"No, leave that for now. I think you can give me another orgasm."

I left the thumb where it was, and she pushed my arm back as she crawled rearward over me. When her thighs were straddling my face, she dropped her head to suck my cock into her mouth. Looking up, I dimly saw a line of cum starting to drip out of her swollen pussy. Taking the hint, I began to lap up my mess. I moved the thumb in her ass, and she started moaning again. Keeping that motion slow, I brought my other hand up to the front of her hips. She jerked as my fingers found her clit. Between my tongue and hands, I had her coming again in no time. Finally, she sighed and pulled away from me. Turning, she climbed on top of me, giving me a cum-tinged kiss, then laying her head on my shoulder.

"Thanks babe. That was fantastic. Can you pull up the blanket?"

I pulled the sleeping bag over us, then fell asleep holding her.

***

"Cole!" Mom shouted in my ear. "What the hell happened?"

I was completely disoriented. "Wha...what?"

There was a sudden wash of cold, and I opened my eyes to see her kneeling over me. The sun was up now, and there was plenty of light to see by. Her blonde hair was messed up, with what looked like dried cum on the edges. The was also some on her cheek and chin. Mom was looking at her breast, and I saw the unmistakeable red mark of a bite around her nipple. I caught the scent of sex and my cock started to grow, bumping against her.

She jumped off me, knocking the sled away from the doorway and landing on my sleeping bag, which she had opened up to air out. The tent was suddenly brighter, and now she was staring at my chest with wide eyes.

"What the fuck, Cole? What happened last night?"

I looked at her, then down at my chest. There were six or eight angry red marks, looking suspiciously like fingernail scratches.

"Um, I'm not sure. Did you have any dreams? Like, really vivid dreams?"

"We couldn't have. No, that's not possible."

Ignoring the fact that I was watching her, she stuck a couple fingers deep into her pussy. The came out coated in milky white goo.

"Fuck," she whispered. Then, she absent-mindedly licked her fingers clean.

"Mom, did that really happen last night?"

She looked up at me, seemingly shocked to see me. Her voice trembled as she asked, "What do you remember, Cole?"

I tried to remember. "Um, I woke in the night, when it was still black. I was sleeping with a woman, who was in front of me. I was, um, hard, and between her legs. She started moving -- and, well, you know."

"Did you come inside her?"

"Yeah, I think so."

She closed her eyes. "Is that all? Or was there something else?"

"I, uh, woke again just before dawn with her crawling on top of me. That got very -- energetic."

"Like biting and scratching?"

"Yeah, that too."

"And?"

"She turned around and asked me to thumb her and scratch her back. And, I came in her again."

"Cole, are there scratches on my back?"

She had turned away, and I saw my handiwork displayed. The scratches on her back looked like raw whip marks. In comparison, those on my chest were nothing.

"Yeah, they look deep."

She sighed, wrapping my sleeping bag around her shoulders. "I guess you know now that I sometimes like it rough. Usually, that's only when I really like someone and I'm over-the-top horny. But, that should not have happened." She shook her head vigorously. "I never lose control -- never. Fuck!"

I decided not to pursue that line of thought. "Mom, what now?"

She had her eyes closed, tapping her fingers into her palm.

"Damn it."

"What?" She didn't answer. "Mom, what 'dammit'?"

"We, uh, didn't use a condom, did we?"

"I don't know about you, but I didn't think I'd need to bring one with me this week," I protested. The implication hit me. "Um, are you worried that, you could -- that, you know?"

"Get pregnant?" Her voice was rising. "Yeah, I sure as hell am. I'm right in the middle of my fertile time."

"But, it's not guaranteed that you'll get pregnant, right?"

"Guaranteed? No. Probable? Yes." She screamed wordlessly for a moment, then closed her eyes and took a deep breath. I could see her regain control, her usual unconcerned expression covering her face like a mask. She whispered, "All right, Maisie, think. You can deal with this."

We were both quiet for a minute.

"So, now what? How soon will you know for sure?"

Her voice was calm now. "A home test won't be effective for at least a week, maybe two. The best thing to do is wait until my next period is due. If I miss it, the test will be pretty accurate."

I digested that for a minute. "What will you do? If you are, I mean."

"I don't know, Cole. I have no idea."

"Mom, I'll do anything you need me to. Just tell me what you want."

She leaned over and kissed my cheek but kept herself covered. "Thanks, baby. We'll talk about it later, all right?"

"Sure."

She sat back and nodded at my leg. "Can you take off the bandage? I'd like to see how that hole is healing."

I slid my leg closer to her, then pulled the sleeping bag to cover my groin. I saw Mom smile out of the corner of my eye. I removed the bandage from my leg, rolling it up as it came off. Setting the bandage aside, I gently lifted the dressing from the top of my thigh. A small hole, filled with dark, clotted blood, sat just to the left of centre on my leg, about half-way down the thigh. I felt the back and estimated the path the bullet had travelled. It could not have missed the bone by more than a couple centimetres. I glanced up at Mom and knew that she had realized the same thing. If the bullet had hit the bone, it would have been almost impossible for Mom to get me back to Mew Lake. And, leaving me here alone would have been almost certain death in this weather.

"You'll have to turn over so I can see the other side."

I nodded and rolled on my right side. I felt Mom removed the other dressing. She laid a hand on my hip to hold me in place, then wiped the injury clean and fastened a new dressing in place with a couple pieces of tape. I had not even noticed her get the first aid kit.

"All right, on your back again and I'll replace the front dressing."

I did as I was told. She bent my leg, then applied some Polysporin and the second dressing. Taking a new roller bandage, she wrapped the dressings to keep them from shifting.

"How does it look?"

She smiled. "You're healing up well. It's a good thing you're young and healthy. Plus, the asshole only shot you with a twenty-two, so it wasn't really that bad to start with. I still don't want you to exert yourself. It wasn't bleeding much, but I'm not taking any chances. I'll pull the sled back, and we will check the leg a couple times in the first hour, then at least hourly after that."

"Are you sure you can handle the sled the whole way?"

"Absolutely. There's almost no food left, so that's a few pounds. And, the snow was a bit sticky on the way here. It's colder now, so there will be less drag. Let's get dressed and eat, then we can break camp and start back."

We were dressed a few minutes later, and I started the fire as Mom got out the last of our food. Looking around, I saw some red splotches in the snow.

"So, what happened last night? To our uninvited guest?"

Mom shrugged. "He's gone."

"Did he leave under his own power?"

"Does it matter?" she asked flatly. Putting the fry pan on the flat rock over the fire we were using for cooking, she tossed in the last of the bacon.

"Mom, I need to know if he's still alive."

"Why? You didn't do anything but disarm him. You might have broken his arm, but that's about it. You don't have anything to worry about."

"Really? And what if someone comes looking for him? What if they find out that we were here and question us? I've got his calling card on my leg."

She closed her eyes for a minute. "He attacked, and we defended. But, when he went after you, I lost it. I wasn't trying to stop him any more. He hurt you, and I wanted him dead. After he fell out of the tent I kept stabbing him until he wasn't moving any more. Then, I dragged him over to the ice south of the island, where it's deeper. I ripped up his clothes to hide the stab marks and chopped a hole in the ice. I stuck a bunch of rocks in his clothes and pushed him under. Once I was sure he was staying down, I put the piece of ice I'd chopped out back in place. It's probably already frozen again."

I thought about that while she was cooking. It didn't take long to heat up the last of the food. As we ate, I looked at the ice between Rose Island and Jean Island. The marks from his footsteps we clear, though they would be gone by the next good snowfall.

"What about his camp?"

"We don't even know where it is."

I pointed at the trail over the ice.

"What are you thinking?"

I shrugged. "It doesn't look right for certain articles to be left in the camp. If he was out, shouldn't he have taken his gear?"

She looked at our camp, with the damaged tent. "Go take a look if you want, but don't take too long. Don't take anything that can be easily identified as belonging to him. And, Cole -- that rifle will be registered to him."

I got up, flexing my leg. "The leg feels pretty good. I won't be long."

I put on my skis and pulled the toque down over my ears. A moment later, I was striding across the ice. Most cross-country skiers generally averaged about the same speed as a normal walking pace, except during a race. Prepared trails gave a better speed, while in rough terrain skis were slower. When we had come south, the snow was a bit sticky, dragging on the skis as we travelled. The upper layer of the snow on the lake had melted in the sun earlier in the week, then hardened in the evenings. Over the past couple nights, any remaining liquid had frozen solid, creating a thick crust. I might as well have been skating for all the resistance it gave my skis. Without too much effort, I was soon moving at the speed of a good run.

The fifty metres to Jean Island took no time. I followed his tracks as they curved to the north. After about two hundred metres there was a bit of a dip in the shoreline, and that's where he had his camp. It was just in the edge of the trees, out of sight of our campsite. I almost laughed out loud when I saw the tent. It was the same model as ours, but dark blue with a hunter green fly, rather than light green and a yellow fly. The tent contained a sleeping bag and his pack. The survival rifle was once again strapped to it. Leaving my gloves on, I quickly searched the pack. There was some food and clothes in the main section, but nothing much of interest.

Checking the outer pockets, I was surprised to find not one, but three wallets. One definitely belonged to the asshole. There was a driver's license and some credit cards. Those I left alone. But I decided it wouldn't hurt to take the bulk of the cash. There were ten fifties, a couple twenties and a ten. I moved all but thirty dollars to my pocket. After all, he didn't need it any more. Interestingly, I did not find a firearms license. Checking the other wallets, I saw driver's licenses and credit cards belonging to other men. I did not recognize either of them. Again, neither had a firearms license, and both wallets were void of cash. I returned the wallets to the pocket they had been in.

A side pocket had an almost-full box of .22 ammunition and a partial box of .45. I searched some more, finding three Colt magazines, all loaded with .45 rounds. There was a leather holster, but no gun. I searched through all of the pockets, even going through the main section again, but the other gun was not present.

I placed the pack outside the tent and checked the sleeping bag, finding a very nice tomahawk under the pillow, but no pistol. Sticking the tomahawk in my belt, I rolled up the sleeping bag and tossed it out with the pack. Confirming the tent was empty, I went back outside. It took me about five minutes to take down the tent, a couple more to pack it up. The tomahawk came in handy for pulling the pegs from the frozen ground.

I glanced around, checking that he had not left any food hanging in the trees. That was often done to prevent bears from getting into it, but they were not a problem this time of year. Tying the tent and sleeping bag to the pack, I hoisted it over my shoulders and collected his skis and poles before heading back onto the ice. The trip back was a bit longer, as I wasn't able to use my own poles very well.

Mom did not look pleased when I showed up. "Is that everything?"

"Yep." I dropped his skis at the edge of the ice. "I found a couple interesting things in the pack. When you got rid of him, did you find anything interesting?"

"Like what?"

"I don't know. A knife maybe. A pistol?" She didn't say anything, but I saw a reaction in her eyes. "The twenty-two rifle and a box of ammo are here, as expected. But there is also ammo and a couple magazines for a forty-five. You didn't find one, by chance?"

Mom turned to her pack and pulled out a gray pistol. "Is this a forty-five?"

"May I?"

She handed it to me with the pointed muzzle my way.

"Um, let's not point this at each other, okay?"

I was happy to see that the safety was on. I stripped the mag out, then flicked off the safety and ran the slide back. A live round dropped into my lap. Locking the slide open, I looked down the barrel. It was clean and shiny, not what I had expected. I placed the pistol on my lap and loaded the loose round into the magazine.

"The gun seems to be clean, and there's no sign of rust or dirt. It seems that he took care of his firearms." I put the magazine in the pocket with the others and slipped the pistol into the holster. "Mom, I found three wallets. Asshole's, and two others. None of them have firearms licenses. My guess is that Asshole did not legally own these guns. Also, I think that he at least robbed these guys, maybe even killed them. We should take this pack to the ranger station and report it as found."

"How do we explain the extra pair of skis? And the damage to our tent?"

I smiled. "Well, the tent is easy. It's the same model as ours. We leave the damaged tent and take his. Place his sleeping bag inside and say we found the pack near the shore."

"I don't like that. If they look around here, they'll find where I cut through the ice. We can take the sleeping bag with us. We'll release the damaged tent -- and only the tent -- at Whitefish Lake for the wind to blow around. We can use that tomahawk you've got to damage it some more, making sure the pockets for the poles are ripped up well. Use the side, rather than the cutting edge, to get a rougher tear. We'll toss his wallet onto the ice somewhere near there and take the other two to the Mew Lake office, saying we found them on the trail near Whitefish."

"What about the pack?"

"We'll go through it and make sure there's nothing identifiable. If there isn't, we can take it with us. We'll put your things in there and use your pack for all of the food containers."