Max Ryker- The End Begins

by David Wayne

  But I couldn’t. Perhaps words cannot describe the unexplainable—like emotions between a man and woman. Even Webster has his limits. My instincts said only a joining, a direct connection, could resolve and reconcile what I felt for her, not words. But that could not be; she was a nun.

  The fire was cranking; she must have put all the big logs in the pit, because they were casting new brightness across the tent. Susan was no longer a dark silhouette. In the dim light, or because of my heightened senses, I could see her features. I could smell her. Hear her breath. Sense her. The slight bead of moisture on her forehead, the pounding of her heart—the outline of swollen breasts and hardened nipples. The aroma of her sex wafted like a rose garden in spring. I was sinking into an unknown place that felt primitive and animalistic. It felt like I was zoning, but in a way I’ve never felt before.

  Once again, I was faced with raging emotions I didn’t understand. It wasn’t a desire for sex, but a compulsion to…resolve. But to resolve what? Our eyes felt intertwined. They were communicating on their own, as if bypassing the brains of two people who wouldn’t get with the program. Then she said, I’m ready, Max, except all I heard were crickets and wind. Had she spoken?

  I grew short of breath. Something primal was taking over. I was shocked to realize I was caressing the inside of her thigh. But my hand was supposed to be below her knee. Had she slid down? I felt an intense heat on the back of my hand. It was so close to…

  My brain screamed, No, you can’t. It’s the sister—your job is to protect her, not deflower her.

  I have never taken advantage of a young girl or a drunk woman or a friend’s wife. I’m not built that way. But those instances were a matter of minor sexual temptations. The intensity of what I felt now could only be described as possession by an outside force. It wasn’t simply a battle between mind and groin. It was a desperate need for resolution. A need to merge the emotional with the physical. To form some hybrid state of being. Two bodies joined, physically having a part of my body inside her body—and then everything pressed tightly together.

  I’m ready for you, Max.

  Did she whisper that or breathe it? Was it the wind?

  “Please,” she said, but this time with words.

  “Susan, no… no… I could never do this…”

  For a second, the spell was broken, her rigid body drooping at my words. “I… You don’t… want me?”

  Those words stung worse than a knife in the gut. It was unbearable. “I want you more than you could ever know,” I said, reaching up and cupping her flushed cheeks. They felt hot and moist. I had to talk quick, or desire would overpower and consume my resolve. “I could never do this to you. You’re a nun; you’re emotional right now. I couldn’t live with myself, Susan… if I took you… I would ruin all that you’ve worked for—just to satisfy my need for you. Please…”

  She fell silent. Once again our eyes locked. Right then, I felt I was forever lost inside her. The quiet was so loud it was deafening.

  “Max…I’m not a nun.”

  Chapter 59

  Man, was this ever an emotional roller coaster. I wiped my face—it was soaking wet. I was in shock—again. “What? You’re not a nun?” I said. “Then—”

  She placed her fingers over my lips. “Listen, Max, please just listen.”

  I was breathing hard. Just moments ago we…

  She took my hand and squeezed. “You see, we allow laypersons to use the terms nun and sister interchangeably, but in the Church, they are technically very different. A nun takes solemn vows and lives in a convent, or monastery. A sister takes simple vows and works inside a congregation. A nun is a sister, but a sister is not a nun.” She paused and looked at me. I was confused. She smiled. “I lived and studied at a convent in Arkansas for seven years. When it came time to commit to the life as a perpetual profession, in other words, become a nun, I decided to remain a sister—and moved to Alabama, where I joined St. Paul’s and Father McGeegen.”

  “So, you’re not a nun, but you are a sister?” I said. Given our current state here in the dark, it seemed a difference without a distinction.

  “Not exactly. For three years, I worked closely with Father McGeegen to overcome the trauma of losing my family. Something I never worked through at the convent. It was Father who helped heal those wounds. When I was ready, he arranged for my brothers and me to talk. It turns out, after they grew up, they’d been searching for me—to no avail. After several conversations, I decided it was time we reunited. It was at Father's suggestion that I leave the Church and return to West Virginia as a secular woman.”

  “Why would he suggest that?”

  “Let’s just say I’m a bit modern and independent for the Church,” she said with a laugh. “He felt I would be happier. I’ve always longed for a life outside of the Church; I was only there to hide. Somehow he knew this. He’s a very perceptive man.”

  I was still trying to process exactly what all this meant. I didn’t know what to say or do.

  “A month before the Event, I made the decision to leave the Church and gave notice to Father McGeegen. Two days before my flight, the world ended. That’s when Max Ryker entered my life, and here we are.”

  “So you’ve not been a nun or a sister the whole time we’ve traveled? That’s been a lie?”

  She stared at the ground, her face grim. “Not literally speaking, no…”

  “What’s that supposed to mean?” I wasn’t sure why I was feeling peeved, but this wasn’t adding up.

  “After the Event, Father asked me to stay on as a sister and help. I agreed to, but only until we reached Atlanta. I hadn’t changed my mind about leaving the Church. At the time, we both assumed I would be traveling with the congregation. Once I decided to go with you, I felt I still needed to honor that commitment…except for the smoking and drinking part,” she said with a shrug. “So, now that we’ve reached Atlanta, I’ve fulfilled that commitment, and I’m officially a secular woman.” She looked at me with sad eyes. “It was…it is…a small lie, Max. At least one by omission. Can you ever forgive me?” She squeezed my hand, and our eyes locked once again in that strange way I was struggling to understand.

  I wrapped my arms around her, pulling her tightly against me. I wished the worse thing I’d ever done was sorta told a lie. “Of course I can. I already forgive you,” I said, stroking her hair. “Why did you decide to leave the Church? For your brothers?”

  “No. I entered for the wrong reasons, for selfish purposes. It took ten years to heal the hurt, Max, to become a whole person again. God and the Church gave me my life back. I just came to realize I didn’t want to make it a lifelong commitment. I’m only leaving it as a vocation. There’s still plenty of good I can and will do on behalf of the Church. But I want a family and children; I want my own chance at that.” She stared out toward the fire, lost in her thoughts.

  As if on cue, with the talking side of doing business done, we returned to our eye lock—but this time, hers were saying something more. My male mind couldn’t help but fret that her first glimpse of a naked man had been on a cold, shriveled night. Now, her first sexual experience would be a mind-blowing, five-stroke wonder. I hadn’t had a case of blue balls since high school, but right now, I was ready to bust with no provocation.

  The problem was, where and how to start? She answered that for me. To my surprise, she pushed me onto my back, unfastened my shorts, and pulled everything down—exposing a throbbing hard-on like I haven’t had since college. She crawled up my naked chest, placing her face only inches away from mine. I could feel hot, moist breath against my skin. Her eyes were frenzied, crazed almost—like an animal ready to attack. Briefly, I wondered if she’d know what to do. She did.

  She grabbed my hardness firmly between her hands, eyes never leaving mine. For a moment she was tentative, but then instinct kicked in, and she stroked me hard and fast. Our breathing was locked together, deep, quick breaths, like they were timed and matched perfectly. She was squeezing
and stroking, eyes boring into mine, searching and probing, while her hand moved faster and faster—as if daring me to pour out my lust. Which I did; it felt like I would erupt for hours.

  I clamped my mouth to hers, tongue fucking at a furious pace, while she continued to pull and squeeze every drop from my body. Finally, I pushed her away, but she pushed back, aggressive and wanting. When I reached for a shirt to clean my spill, she pushed my hand away, forcing my arm to the ground. Her breathing was loud, bordering on a growl. I pulled her back to me, hard and aggressive. We were like two wild animals, circling one another, hesitant, tentative—but determined to mate. The whole time she never released me, all the while squeezing and pulling.

  I began to harden again.

  Chapter 60

  Even though the fire had died down, I could still see her clearly in the dim light. The aroma inside the tent was that of a woman, thick with anticipation and the scent of her wet sex. She glared at me, not in anger, but with sexual aggression, like a cat ready to spring and fight. I grabbed a fistful of the blanket, ready to expose the beauty of her nakedness—but she pulled away. I stiffened; our eyes were burning and locked together. Mine said the blanket was coming off—hers were defiant, but then she released it. I threw the blanket to the corner, eager to have her completely exposed—and mine.

  I thought she gasped—but it was me. She was a virgin, so I expected an air of self-consciousness—but that’s not what she projected. Instead, she sat still, breasts white as ivory, swollen and ready, nipples erect and begging for my touch. Rather than embarrassment, she seemed to demand that I look. And I did. Max Ryker is a lot of things, but shy is not one of them. I took in her nakedness—greedily and unabashedly I drank her in, every last drop.

  I had to touch her. No way could I hold back. I stroked the warm softness of her inner thigh, the back of my hand barely brushing where she burnt hottest. It sent an instant jolt to my groin, like a lamp being plugged in. Our eyes remained joined, chests heaving in unison. I saw no fear or trepidation as I took in her nakedness. She wasn’t proud or ashamed; it was like watching the sunrise on a dewy mountain morning—pure, unadulterated beauty.

  Finally, I looked between her legs, because I had to. The pull to see was unbearable. The reason a man must look is stupid and simple; at that moment, the most private, intimate parts of a woman become his. Only his.

  With all my willpower, I fought to remember she was untouched, a bridge I’d not crossed in many years. I was unsure how to proceed, and once again, she solved that problem for me. With one quick motion, she pushed me down and straddled my midsection. I started to warn her, Slow down or I might hurt you. In a barely perceptible way, she shook her head, as if to say, Don’t worry, I’ve got this. That worked for me.

  I thanked God she’d taken my urgency away with her hand. What was required now was patience. I had to ease in slowly, give her body time to adjust to my entry. Except pressure, and my insistent need, was already building. Those were wasted thoughts, because she blew out a deep breath, eyes burning intensely through the wet hair dangling over her flushed face. She pressed both fists hard against my chest, almost like a punch. Then, without hesitation, she lowered quickly—taking half my length in one swift motion. She threw back her head, moaning, like when a masseuse hits that deep sore spot in a muscle. There was no friction or resistance—she was a river. She hesitated, holding that midway spot, looking down at me, then she let out another deep breath and took me fully in. She let out a deep sigh as she sank down, engulfing all of me. Her moans, along with my desperate need to be completely inside her, almost made me lose it. I grabbed her throat and arm, forcing her to stop. One more slight movement would push me over the edge. She was breathing hard, taking in big gulps of air, sweat dripping from her face and hair. After a moment, she pushed both my arms, swatting them away like flies. Then she gritted her teeth and pushed her pelvis farther down, grinding it against mine.

  I almost came. To prevent it, I leaned up and wrapped my arms around her. She was sweaty with lust and want. I took her left breast into my mouth and then pulled her roughly against my rigid body, wanting to pull her all the way inside of me.

  We sat upright, in a suspended lovers’ grip, joined together physically and mentally—a mixture of passion and raw emotion flowing freely through us. We didn’t move. The crazy emotional confusion from earlier disappeared—those elusive answers became crystal clear; my need for resolution was complete. Now you see, Max, now you see. I don’t know if she spoke those words or if they just passed through her into me, but I responded, Yes…yes…I see now, I see now...

  But we never spoke.

  As if knowing my inner conflicts had been resolved, she turned to her own needs. With both hands, she pushed hard, slamming me back down onto the sleeping bag. She put one hand on my shoulder and neck, while the other pushed aggressively against my chest. Her lips were taut and determined, her muscular legs squeezing hard against my hips. She sat straddling my midsection, savoring the hardness buried deep inside her. Then she began to explore.

  Slowly, she moved back and forth, and then up and down. At first, the pace was slow and measured, but it quickly increased in intensity and motion. I was ramrod hard, and she took full advantage. She was enjoying the ride, but seemed to realize something was missing.

  “Show me how,” she moaned.

  I grabbed her soft, firm ass, placing my other hand on the small of her back. I bent her downward and then pulled forward in one quick, hard motion. When her magic spot hit my unyielding firmness, she cried out as her sex felt that very first jolt of electricity—ever. I watched the sexual sensations rock her body. As they subsided, she froze, unsure of what to do. She looked down at me, her trembling eyes begging, Tell me what to do.

  I pulled her bottom back aggressively, right to the spot, sending shockwaves of pleasure to her most intimate places. She let out a low moan; her body was shaking, begging for release.

  “Now you do it,” I demanded. “Do it hard.”

  All it took was a slight nudge, and off to the races she went. Once shown a glimpse of the finish line, she was hell-bent on arriving, grinding and slamming her sex against mine—she was intense and hungry. I had to close my eyes. Watching her bouncing breasts, the long hair floating in the air, hearing her love sounds, loud and desperate, were pushing me dangerously close. Somehow, someway, I had to wait; I had to postpone what demanded to explode. My world was glowing red. I had no sense of time or space, only a savage need to consume her.

  It started with a low, guttural moan. As it grew louder, she rode me like a crazed bronco, pressing her full weight into my chest, her breathing a mixture of heavy sighs and quick, deep breaths. With one last burst of frenzied thrusts, she screamed into the night, and I felt the welcoming release of her moisture—and I released with her. She fell hard against me, rocking slightly, squeezing, draining, pulling all that was inside of me into her.

  *

  I awoke to a thick blanket of darkness. I had no idea how much time had passed. The fire was completely extinguished, the sun still asleep. I was craving her again. I knew I should wait, allow her to enjoy that deep, peaceful slumber only achieved in a lover’s aftermath. But I couldn’t wait; I hungered, starved to have her again. Slowly, I pushed up onto one elbow, reaching for the nude silhouette lying next to me. A full moon cast just enough light that I could see her chest move, and the outline of her face. I felt as peaceful as she looked. Tonight, she’d given me a part of herself never offered to another. Those thoughts caused a quickening of my breath—and my hardening. I hesitated in midair, but found her hand already there. She guided me on top, legs open—as if they were calling and begging.

  “I’ve been waiting for you, Max,” she whispered.

  We made love slowly, deeply, and completely. I could see her face clearly, even though I couldn’t. Once again, I heard voices without words.

  No more bombs.

  No more burning houses.

  No more. N
o more. No more.

  After reaching that place where only lovers go, I fell asleep in its intoxicating afterglow, as she stroked my hair, whispering, “I love you, Max. I love you.”

  Chapter 61

  The first thing I thought of the next morning was, no nightmares last night. That was a great change of pace. The second thing I thought was, I got my brains fucked out last night. That brought a hello-sunshine smile to my morning face. The third thing I thought was, morning sex. The little guy was wide awake and had already skipped directly to thought number three. Except when I reached out for Susan, she wasn’t there. The little guy was not happy, but I told him to stand down. Let’s have a nice morning pee, a little breakfast, and then sex. Woods sex. I’d had mile-high sex, barroom-bathroom sex, and even female-boss-in-the-office sex, but never ex-nun-in-the-woods sex.

  As I relived myself behind a bush, I didn’t see Susan anywhere. Had she gone hunting? I walked toward the fire pit and saw an MRE with a note pinned to it. I picked it up, expecting to read how much she loved the wild, crazy night. I couldn’t help but smile; she did luck out pulling Max Ryker straight out of the gate.

  Dear Max,

  I know what you struggled to say last night. You just aren’t ready, and may never be. You still have demons to exorcise, and I’ve done all that I can; the rest is up to you. If that day ever arrives, please come for me. I’ll be waiting.

  Max, I love you.

  Susan

  What? Was this a Dear John letter? I reread the note twice, but it said the same thing both times.

  “Fuck, fuck, double fuck, and triple fuck,” I yelled out into the forest, realizing I hadn’t cussed in a month, and it felt good.