First Fall: The Canoe Thief Read online

  India heard the clatter of distant hooves and guessed a herd of goats had seen them and fled.

  A huge billboard on the side of a building was faded and mostly torn away, but part of it was still legible:

  Serenity Islands Estate.8000 hectares of “reclaimed ocean.” You won’t believe it’s man-made! Resort coming in 2325. Stage one selling—

  “We shouldn’t go too far from the beach,” India said much more quietly than normal.

  Tare nodded. “No, but maybe we can find somewhere secure.”

  She padded over to a car.

  There had been no cars in Eden. They had only been on the TV. On the TV, the cars could move around, more like fast snails than dogs or people, because they had no legs. The cars in the world had never moved at all.

  This car was black and large and had Range Rover and BHF 782 written on it. One of the windows was open a crack, and inside India could see a desiccated fox corpse and the remains of several bird nests.

  “In here, you think?” India asked.

  Tare tapped the windows and the doors and the hood, then she looked under it. Scrambling to her feet again, she tried the door handle and it fell open. There was some litter inside, tin and plastic, the kind both tribes used for decorations and tools.

  Tare peered in, then backed away carefully and shut the door again.

  “We can get in, we can’t get out.”

  “Maybe,” India agreed. “Let me in, then if I can’t get out, you can open it for me.”

  Tare nodded, and India cautiously crawled up onto the seat. The door closed behind her, and she started to test the buttons and knobs. One opened a little hatch, and she found a book inside. She was excited at first, but when she flipped through, the writing was tiny and contained nonsensical diagrams. The cover read Owner’s Manual. She put it back and closed the hatch.

  “It’s not working,” Tare said, concerned.

  Faintly irritated, India held up her hand to indicate she should wait. Another button, a wiggly stick, some levers by the wheel. She found a latch on the door, and when she pulled it, the door swung open, almost sending her sprawling onto the asphalt.

  “Found it.”

  Tare grinned and scrambled in with her. They cleaned out the dead fox and bird waste and poked and pulled all the levers and catches. There were rusted keys under the wheel, and when India turned them the car shook itself, like a creature waking up. They both startled, but when she tried it again, nothing happened.

  Tare discovered that the back seats folded down, and in the dark space behind them were some musty blankets, tins with “chicken noodle soup” written on them and bottles of now stagnant water.

  They threw the tins and water out (Tare kept the bottles the water was in) and laid out the blankets over the wide space created by the flattened seats. It was comfortable. They were sheltered from the wind, and they would have protection from the animals.

  “I like this,” India decided, settling down to relax as the afternoon slowly turned steel gray with the gathering clouds.

  Tare nodded. “It’s better than being all sandy.”

  “We should rest for a few hours before we start gathering wood.”

  Tare stretched out beside her, smothering a yawn. When she looked comfortable, India inched closer, until her back was resting against the Elikai’s odd, smooth chest.

  She didn’t really understand why, but she felt guilty just being here. Tare hadn’t abandoned her. She could have, and India might have ended up alone here, huddled in the car with the door still open, too afraid to close it in case it didn’t open from the inside. Or she might not have been brave enough to come this close to Eden at all. Through the window it loomed up into the sky, a great half ball of dirty white, now streaked with bird shit and moss. She owed the Elikai her life.

  It didn’t change the fact Tare was an Elikai. A stranger, dangerous. India was only doing what she had to to stay alive. Still, she wondered what her sisters would think, seeing her like this: her back pressed to the firm, flat chest of their enemy. Even the Elikai smell, though it was musky and a little overpowering, was becoming something India associated with safety.

  A little tentatively, Tare put her arm around India, one hand resting lightly on her breast, her breath warm on the back of India’s neck. India wished she was less...happy about that.

  She closed her eyes, trying to doze. It did not last long, as she could feel something hard and twitching against her buttocks.

  She half rolled to look at Tare. “What is that?”

  “What?” She had her eyes closed, looking decidedly more restful than India felt.

  India reached back and grasped the offending object. It was Tare’s cock, swollen and rigid now and moving about with spasmic twitches.

  Tare winced a little. “Gentle.” She propped herself up on one elbow to look at India. “That’s delicate. You can’t just grab it like that.”

  “Sorry.” She rolled over so they were facing one another, looking down at the bobbing cock curiously. It was sticking out between the dry strands of Tare’s grass skirt, much larger now than before. “Why does it do that?”

  Tare sighed like she was being forced to explain something obvious. “That’s what happens when the Elikai are aroused. Our cocks go up.”

  “Aroused?” India asked. “I arouse you?”

  She wasn’t sure if she should be flattered or disgusted. The Elikai and Varekai were different species. Once she’d had a dog that would try to mount the nanny goats, but then a billy goat killed it. Was Tare weird like that too?

  Or was it not so strange? The Elikai and Varekai weren’t as different as goats and dogs. A moment ago India had been perfectly content curled up with Tare.

  “Can I?” India indicated her cock again, and Tare nodded, a little hesitant.

  She was gentler this time, moving the skin up and down the shaft. It flowed easily over a hard, inner core, bunching up like puckered lips over the little bulb at the head, then springing back down when released to sit comfortably over the length.

  Tare drew a hissing breath through gritted teeth as she did it, and she paused.

  “Too rough again?”

  “No, it’s not that. It feels nice, actually.”

  “Oh.” India drew the skin up again, and Tare sighed.

  “What do you do with them?” India asked. “How do they work?”

  “Ah, well...” She seemed distracted by what India was doing, so India kept doing it.

  “We, ah, it’s not entirely different to what Varekai do. What Sierra and Yankee did. We use our hands and our mouths too, but on each other’s cocks.”

  “Like this?” India indicated what she was doing.

  He adjusted her grip so she was holding it like an oar, then slid her hand up and down the length in a smooth motion. “Like that. And we suck and lick each other and take as much of it into our mouths as we can. Sometimes we stick it inside each other. In our butts.”

  India pulled a face. “I don’t think Varekai butts work like that.”

  “We use pig fat.”

  “Ah.” India continued the up-and-down motion, adjusting the firmness of her grip and the speed, to see how Tare reacted. The Elikai seemed to be losing focus, mouth open, lips parted. Her breathing was getting quicker, and her cock seemed harder and thicker than before.

  “If you—” Tare’s hips were starting to make little spasmic jerks.

  “What?”

  “I can’t. I’m going to—” Her breathing was labored, her face and neck flushing with color. India was fascinated. She started to jerk faster, harder. Her own pulse starting to pick up, her breathing speeding up to meet Tare’s.

  “Please,” Tare whined.

  “What?” India prompted again.

  “Stop—
aah!”

  Tare climaxed, hips bucking forward, her cock shooting something that looked like clotted goat’s cream across India’s belly and flanks.

  For a moment India just stared, surprised, then tentatively touched it and rubbed it between her fingers.

  Tare was watching her, her face flushed, her breath still coming out in pants. Her gaze was hungry and strayed across India’s body as if she were a feast.

  “Is it supposed to do that?” India asked.

  “Yes,” Tare assured her. “Sugar says it’s seeds. He said he read it somewhere. But they never grow anything.”

  “Have you tried planting it at different soil depths?” India sniffed it and crinkled her nose. It didn’t smell like plant matter. Was it possible an Elikai seed could grow an Elikai?

  “Not me, I’m not good with plants,” Tare admitted. “I don’t think it’s seeds. It’s just stuff. It doesn’t do anything.”

  “Oh.” India was disappointed. The idea that Elikai might have been able to grow little plants from their cock-seed had been momentarily exciting. A possible answer to the dilemma that had plagued her life since they had left Eden. She pushed the idea away. It was too easy and perhaps slightly insane.

  “You know, in my tribe it’s a firmly held belief that there should always be tit for tat with sex.” Tare’s gaze was still wandering up and down India’s body. “I watched your brothers in the Varekai camp. I saw what you do. It’s a little more complicated than the Elikai, but I can do that too.”

  India considered it and was surprised to find the Elikai sexuality had aroused her a little; between her thighs was hot and tingling, her skin sensitive to the rough blanket and the tightness of her clothing. Mostly she had been curious. Mostly she still was curious. There were few things in life more interesting to India than new things.

  This was the first time an Elikai and a Varekai had ever touched this way. Probably ever, in the whole history of the world. Maybe it was wrong, and it would probably also be the last time, but the idea of being the first and last of her sisters to ever try something was exciting.

  “Yes,” she said. “I would like that.”

  Tare shifted closer to her eagerly, but her touch was gentle as she stroked India’s throat, caressing her collarbone. Tare’s hands were larger than a Varekai’s, and she kept her nails blunt and short. Her touch sent tingles through India’s skin, soft and sweet.

  With her fingertips, Tare explored India’s shoulders, breasts and belly, smearing her own seed across her skin. There was a reverent wonder in the caresses, and India was fascinated by the play of emotions over the Elikai’s face. Surprise, awe, and then Tare met her gaze with a shy smile. India smiled back.

  Tare kissed between her breasts. Her lips sent a thrill of pleasure through India, and she let herself relax further, closing her eyes so Tare could take control and explore.

  The kisses continued, down across her belly, out to the protruding curve of her hip bone, then back up. Tare kissed each of her nipples in turn, sending a stab of sensation into India’s core, then kissed her on the lips.

  India hesitated a moment, then opened her mouth to Tare. Their tongues met, and India felt the rise of need in the bowl of her hip bones. Her kiss, more than her caresses, took the moment from harmless curiosity into sex, and India wanted more.

  She took Tare’s hand and guided it between her thighs, eager to show the Elikai how to touch her. Tare pulled back in surprise at first; clearly it was not what she had expected.

  “It’s soft,” she murmured.

  “Mmm,” India agreed.

  With India’s guidance, her fingertips moved slowly down through the lips, exploring every fold and cushion. Tare tried to look down when she found the slick gathering of nectar, but the proximity of their bodies was blocking her view.

  Tare spread the wetness up through her folds, making India whimper as she brushed the pearl at the top.

  “Is it good?”

  “Yes,” India breathed. It had been a while since she’d come together with another. She’d been busy, everyone had been tense. She’d forgotten how nice it felt just to be touched.

  “Where is the shell?”

  India put her hand over Tare’s and pushed her fingers gently into the tight opening. They slid inside, and India let out a sigh. Tare, on the other hand, was wide-eyed. Very carefully, she probed deeper, her fingers—so much thicker and longer than any of the Varekai’s—stroking the soft inner walls.

  India groaned and pushed down, taking Tare’s digits farther still.

  “You’re really enjoying this.”

  “Yessss.” This time her voice was a hiss.

  Tare kissed her neck, and then drew her lips down India’s chest, kissing and sucking her nipples, which were stiff and hard, aching with fervent need.

  India’s every breath was coming out in a whimper. Her need was growing inside her, fierce and savage, but all of Tare’s attention was on her breasts and shell. The little nubbin that needed the most attention was being ignored.

  She noticed, in a vague, uncomprehending way, that Tare’s cock was erect again and pressing periodically against her thigh. The tip was weeping. India could feel the droplets on her skin, and when she glanced down, she noticed the mushroom-like head was fatter and purpler than before.

  India imagined rubbing it back and forth across her pearl, that smooth, swollen surface slick with her nectar. If she was sitting astride Tare, her shell could slide up and down her shaft as she moved, and the head would bump back and forth across her nub.

  “Lie on your back,” she said suddenly, pushing Tare back a little.

  She looked momentarily confused. “Why?”

  “I want to try something.” Raw animal lust was overwhelming the voice of common sense. She wanted more than this. More of Tare.

  “Will it hurt?”

  “I don’t think so... I’ll stop if it does.”

  Tare looked uncertain, but did as India asked. Her cock stood up high between her legs like a bent palm tree, bobbing with frustration.

  Carefully, head ducked to avoid the roof of the car, India positioned her hips over Tare’s. She laid the cock flat and positioned her lips on either side of it, so it rested in the groove that ran from opening to clitoris. It took effort. Her knee was still stiff and swollen, but she managed.

  Tare had already spread her juices from one end to the other, so when India let her weight rest and began to rock her hips back and forth, there was no friction, only the smooth glide of skin against skin.

  Tare groaned, eyes rolled back. Between them, the head of her cock appeared and vanished in their intermingled pubic hair, Tare’s light like the sand, India’s as black as ink.

  The friction of Tare’s cock against her pearl and lips was exquisite. Every stroke built her pleasure, and sensation was roaring through her body. She wanted more. Harder, faster, wetter, and her body obliged her, her hips moving with increased pressure and fluidity.

  Tare’s hips began to press up with involuntary thrusts. Just little movements, but they made balance a problem. India barely noticed, her own need eclipsing all sense of anything but the growing heat between her legs.

  She slipped a little too far forward and had to catch herself with her hands. Without any thought, she pushed herself back. The head of Tare’s cock pressed against her opening, and she shifted to return it to its original path, but in that moment Tare thrust.

  Tare buried herself suddenly and deeply into India’s insides. India cried out in surprise, though not pain. There had been things up there before: smooth driftwood, too-green root vegetables, hands, tongues and all the rest. But she had not been expecting it, and the cock was fat and hard and speared all the way into her core.

  They both froze. A thin sheen of sweat had broken out across India’s skin. She
could feel it inside her, still twitching as her own muscles tightened and clenched around it.

  “Oh!” Tare looked as if she was braced for some horrible reaction.

  India was breathing hard. She’d never been so full, almost as if it would split her. Slowly, she started to raise herself off Tare. Inside she could feel the slick movement, the caress of her cock against every inner wall, all at once.

  She groaned and sank back down again.

  Tare hissed, still terrified.

  “Is it...?”

  India rocked her hips. Inside, Tare’s cock slid against her walls. Her pearl was pressed firmly against Tare’s pelvic bone, and the slick friction of the movement caressed it and sent tendrils of passion deep into her, to places they had never rooted before.

  She rocked again, seeking a rhythm.

  “Stop!” Tare insisted.

  India did not stop. “Does it hurt?”

  Tare hissed, and her hips arched up under her, driving herself a little deeper. “Not me, you.”

  “Me?”

  “We do this.” Tare almost couldn’t speak through gritted teeth. “Sometimes. But without pig fat, there will be deep damage. You’ll bleed. You’ll be sore.”

  India snorted in amusement. She couldn’t remember being wetter. “The Varekai make our own ‘pig fat.’ Hadn’t you noticed?”

  “I don’t want to—ahh—hurt—”

  India was still rolling her hips, harder and faster. Tare seemed to have lost coherency. Her body was arching in time with India’s movements, sending her cock as deep as it would go.

  India’s own pleasure was building in waves, each crest taking her higher and higher. She reached her peak and cried out as she fell, her summit hitting her again and again. Inside, her muscles spasmed tightly around the shaft, and Tare gave three hard pumps, cried out and was still.

  India collapsed against the Elikai’s smooth chest, her pulse pounding in her ears, her breath hard and short. Tare held her, apparently too stunned or exhausted to move, and for long moments they just stayed like that, still joined at the hip.