In the Headlights

Tables Turned

Bill felt Laura convulse around his tongue. He brought his hands up to prevent her from coming down and smothering him, in an old reflex he'd forgotten. He tried to warn her he was coming too, but ejaculated before he found his voice. They rested for a bit, her labia pressing against his cheek, her aroma filling his nostrils, her breath against his slackening cock, until she raised her hips, turned and crawled over him. They lay cheek to cheek, and sank in a restful slumber.

There was a rustle in the undergrowth not far away.

He froze and tried to remember were he'd dropped his rifle. Frak.

"Again?" Laura's lips smiled against his neck.

He shushed her. "We're not alone."

She clambered for her pants, while he located his firearm. Yes, the sound definitely came from the bushes over there.

"Behind the tree," he pointed Laura. She was in no condition to run; they'd have to make their stand here.

He zipped up his fatigues, moved out of the clearing and circled the bushes, trying to be soundless.

He froze when he saw them.

Lee spotted him over the blonde's shoulders almost immediately. The tattoo was unmistakably Kara's.

The men stared at each other wide eyed, like pilots who jumped too close to a star, shocked at the sudden proximity of peril, until Kara slapped his son. "Keep at it, Lee."

The boy blushed and Bill could see he was ready to bolt.

Bill raised his hand to stop him and turned away.

Walking through the clearing back to the tree, Billwondered what he would tell Laura.