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Most of these many have survived. Some have died. It is the way of things.
The evergreens, as always, are evergreen. Their leaves close slightly, their xylem and phloem constrict and their bodies prepare for the cold and darkness, but they don’t worry. They have seen hundreds of winters. They will see hundreds more.
The ecosystem remains in balance.
I watch this all occur, as I have watched it many times, as I will watch it many times again. This year, as winter darkens the sky and brightens the ground for the forty-fourth time in my life, I watch it with a companion and not alone.
Melody leans on my shoulder and listens as the last of the squirrels, exhausted from its struggle, finally climbs into the nest it’s prepared for itself and curls up to sleep. I don’t know if she can hear the soft sigh it makes as it closes its eyes, but I know she understands the peace it has found.
Its work is done. Now it can simply be.
Melody
It’s strange how I can be getting fucked harder than I’ve ever been fucked in my life and feel like I’m making the sweetest love. It’s incredible that I can be shrieking and gasping for air as my body explodes with orgasms so powerful it’s truly surprising that I can remain conscious, let alone actually enjoy myself. It’s impossible to describe how I can be screaming, “God yes, Russel! Fuck! Make me cum, baby! Make me cum for you!”
He does exactly as I ask him to do, and though electricity is shooting through my body from head to toe and I’m spasming as I am overwhelmed with pleasure, the primary emotion in my thoughts right now isn’t ecstasy, but love.
I’m in love with him. I’m his forever, and I think the forever part is why even though he spins me on my hands and knees, pushes my face into the mattress, and grabs my hips so he can slam his cock into me so forcefully I expect at any minute to break I feel like he’s being as loving and sweet as I could ever wish a man to be.
Or maybe that’s just a natural reaction to having your clit, g-spot, and pussy all come at the same time three times in ten minutes.
“Russel!” I shriek as that third climax hits me. “Oh God!”
“Cum, baby,” he growls, and how am I supposed to ignore that command delivered like that?
I don’t know for sure that I’m having a fourth orgasm on the heels of the third. My third orgasm could just be lasting far longer than the previous two and peaking multiple times. Whatever’s happening, I feel better than I ever have in my life, and considering that Russel’s been fucking me, fingering me, and eating my pussy multiple times a day for the past five months, that’s saying a lot.
God, it’s a miracle I can still walk!
“Russel, yes!” I cry out, “Fill me up! Cum inside me! Please fill me, baby!”
“Keep cumming for me, baby,” he growls. “Let me worry about when I cum.”
Okay, now I’m for sure cumming a fourth time.
It’s not usually this good. I mean, it’s usually indescribably amazing, there just aren’t usually so many orgasms. It’s like he’s found every single nerve ending in my body, and he’s now stimulating it to the peak of pleasure.
I don’t know if he fucks me for a minute longer or an hour. I do know that when he finally cries out and I feel him pumping inside me, I cum a final time, so hard that my body collapses and the only reason my hips continue to grind on him and my pussy continues to suck his cock hard is that I am spasming uncontrollably on top of him.
He cums for a long time. I asked him to fill my pussy, and he did. I can actually fill his cum shooting into me and filling me to the brim. I fixate on that feeling and that extends my own orgasm so that when he finally sighs and pulls out of me, I keep twitching and jerking in that position for several minutes.
When I do move, I look over and glance at the sarong and bra that lay tossed on the floor. I rarely wear clothing anymore, but today is Russel’s birthday, so I wake him up in the same outfit I surprise him with the day I tell him I’m buying his forest.
Frank Westin is still incredulous that I have no desire to capitalize on the land at all. Not that he’s complaining. The commission I give him is enough for him to buy a new house. He’s just not capable of understanding how a woman who has what he believes is everything can eschew that in favor of what he believes is nothing.
I don’t blame him for that misunderstanding. It’s a very natural human inclination to be discontent. I do feel sorry for him, though. He’ll never truly understand the peace of waking to the sound of songbirds and falling asleep to the chirps of insects. He won’t know the joy of a sunrise or the freedom of a whispering river.
But that’s okay. He has his own joys, and I have mine.
I really don’t feel like a human anymore. I mean, I do. I have a human body. I have a cell phone which I use to talk to my family and friends who still live in the cities. I have a car, even. I keep the Jeep I owned before and modify it a little to make it a real all-terrain vehicle. I laugh a little bit sometimes when I look at it. My cousin is into off-roading. He could probably talk my ear off for days about how cool my car is.
I don’t see it as anything more than a tool I use for those occasional times when I need to venture back into society. Most of the time, I’m content to remain apart, here with my Alpha.
The other bears visit infrequently. Russel isn’t kidding when he says that bears need their solitude. After I buy the land and save the forest, there’s a day of celebration and by the next morning, all of the bears have returned to their own territories. I see them perhaps three or four times a year.
And that’s all right. I see my family just as often, and I still love them fiercely. The absence doesn’t make my heart grow forgetful.
There’s only one living creature I need to see every day, and that creature is the one currently moaning underneath me as I try to see if my mouth can suck as hard as my orgasming pussy.
I love him so much. I’m so glad, he’s mine. When I think about the life I leave behind, I realize that I probably would have been happy without Russel, the way ignorant people are blissful. I never would have understood real joy, though. I never would have understood how fulfilling it is when he cries out, shudders, and shouts, “God, Melody!” and pumps his cum deep inside my rhythmically swallowing throat while my overstimulated pussy still spasms and twitches from the multiple hard orgasms he’s given me.
I’d never know what it feels like to rest my head on his chest at the end of the night and watch the sun set through the trees and hear the nocturnal neighbors awaken.
All in all, I’m glad I learned the things I’ve learned. I love being the woman I am with the man I love.
My bear.
My Alpha.
My love.
