Uncivilized by Sawyer Bennett

  "No, smart ass. The females are larger, and this snake was massive... probably twenty feet long judging by its coils. Anyway, they normally stay in the water to hunt, and they are super fast. But this one was looking lazy, and maybe she was old... who knows, but all I know is that we thought she'd make a fine meal for the tribe if we could kill it."

  I shuddered at the thought. Not only for the danger Zach faced at such a tender age, but also at the enormous responsibility he had already taken upon his shoulders. It was important to him at the age of twelve to help feed his people.

  "We all had our bows and arrows, but we knew that wouldn't work. We'd have to cut the head off, but the problem was we couldn't see it. We plotted for a while, sitting about twenty feet from the snake, when finally Kaurlo came up with the brilliant idea to bait it by throwing rocks."

  "So you threw rocks at a huge snake to get it to show its head. Are you nuts?"

  Zach snickered. "I think probably just stupid. But it worked. It took several throws, and the rocks all bounced off harmlessly, but finally she lifted that massive head up and looked at us. But she didn't looked pissed... just sleepy. She uncoiled and started to slither toward the water."

  "I would have let her go," I said with another slight shudder.

  "That was our dinner. No way were we letting it get away. We all ran after her, machetes drawn. I was the fastest and reached her first. Just before she hit the water's edge, I lifted up my weapon to strike at her and she spun on me so fast, I didn't have time to react. She just struck out at me and grabbed me by the thigh. I went crashing to the ground, and my machete flew out of my hand."

  "Good God. What did you do?"

  "I fucking screamed my head off. Anaconda's have two rows of teeth on each side of their mouth, and the teeth curve backward so once they sink into you, there's almost no way to get them out. They're not venomous, but they don't need to be. They just need to hold tight until they can get their coils around you to suffocate you."

  "Did one of the other boys save you?"

  Zach gave a low laugh of amusement. "No. They all went screaming into the jungle, calling for help. Luckily, Paraila was nearby and came running. When he saw me on the ground with that damned snake latched on, he started cursing me in Portuguese, 'Stupid boy, stupid boy'. By the time he reached me, she had already started to coil around my stomach, and he had a hard time finding a place to cut through her with his machete without cutting me too."

  "Oh my, God. But clearly, he managed it."

  "Clearly. That snake was pissed, because Paraila basically had to saw through her while she was fighting to strangle me. He finally killed it, but it took them forever to get the jaws unhinged off me. Several of the teeth broke off and had to be pulled out individually."

  "Geez... you could have died."

  "I nearly did... twice. That snake almost killed me, but then the wounds got infected and I got really sick. But I pulled through."

  Sadness welled up inside of me for the violent life this man has lived. He wasn't meant for that. Not the sweet boy from Georgia who didn't want to go to the Amazon in the first place.

  "You've had such a rough life," I said softly.

  "Not really," he said as he shrugged his shoulders. "I managed."

  "You survived."

  "Flourished some would even say," he added on.

  Yes... Zach did flourish, I think to myself as I look in the bathroom mirror as I replay that conversation over in my head.

  After his story, we were quiet, and I eventually fell asleep in his arms. I was awoken this morning from a sound sleep not twenty minutes ago with Zach's hand between my legs, working me to an awakening orgasm. He is absolutely insatiable, but I'm not complaining.

  By the time my spasms started to quiet, his cock was lodged deep within me, and he was pounding away to a blistering orgasm of his own. Just as he came, he pressed his face in the pillow beside my head and cried out my name, but it was thankfully muffled by the softness of the goose down.

  I then made my way on shaky legs to the bathroom, where I peed, and now I stand looking at myself in the mirror.

  Zach is such an enigma. He was born a sweet innocent, yet transformed into a man of lethal danger and steely reserve. Raw edges, scarred flesh, and a rapacious appetite for life. He took the hand he was dealt and yes, he flourished.

  Yet, here he is now, and the only affinity he seems to hold for this new world lies within my body. I'm absolutely positive that had we not developed the relationship that now exists between us, Zach would have returned to Caraica already. I say that with no amount of ego and, in fact, it sort of saddens me to think it's probably just some phenomenally good sex keeping him here. But really... how long can that last?

  My eyes stare back at me with no answers, so I dry my hands and creep back into the bedroom. Zach watches me from the bed, his hands tucked behind his head and his beautiful, naked body sprawled along the mattress.

  I hesitate because I'm not sure if I should crawl back in bed with him... which would be my preference, yet the intimacy of sex seems to have dissipated, and I'm feeling oddly vulnerable right now.

  "Get back in bed," Zach says softly. "We have no plans today, and I have more dirty things I want to do to you."

  My pulse hammers and my eyes flick to his penis, which has softened but is still impressive as it lays between his legs. When I look back at his face, I find him smirking at me. "I need just a few more minutes, but come up here and lie beside me."

  I don't need to be asked twice, and I scramble back up on the bed. Rather than lying beside him, I decide for a bit of a bolder move, and I climb right on top of his body, straddling his pelvis.

  Zach's eyebrows raise and his hands come up to rest on my thighs. "What are you doing?"

  I shrug my shoulders because, honestly... I have no clue what I'm doing. So I say, "Just figured I'd sit here awhile on top of you... just hang out for a bit."

  Zach's face breaks out into a wide grin, and I'm loving the little bit of levity between us. Until now, I didn't know Zach truly had this within him because he's always so serious and commanding. He finds me amusing, and I find I like that a lot.

  Reaching down, I slide my fingers among his and link our hands together. "What do you want to do today?"

  "Stay in bed with you... all day."

  "Not an option. I think Randall or Sam would be suspicious. Choose something else."

  Zach's gaze lowers from my face for a slight moment as if he's pondering something and, when it returns, his look is deeply intent. "It doesn't have to be today... but I was hoping we could find a church and attend a service sometime."

  My hands reflexively squeeze against his. "I think that's a lovely idea. What's with the interest?"

  "I just figured it might be a way to reconnect to my parents. It was such a big part of their lives. I quickly fell away from the teachings of Christianity while living in Caraica, and although Father Gaul tried to get me back into it, I much preferred the mysticism and spiritual communion with nature that the Caraican's practiced. But I figure... it can't hurt to check it out. You know... in my effort to learn more about this new world I'm being shown."

  Lifting one of our linked hands up, I bring the union close to my face and kiss Zach's fingertips. "I think that's a great way to honor your parents' memory, Zacharias. I'd love to take you. I'll find something close by and arrange it."

  "Thank you," he says as he pulls on our clasped hands and brings them to his mouth, where he kisses my fingertips, then bites down on my index finger.

  Gasping, I flex my hips and feel his cock start to swell underneath of me.

  "But let's talk about something else more important," Zach murmurs with searing heat in his eyes.

  "What's that?" I whisper back.

  "Let's talk about you putting your mouth on my cock and my tongue between your legs."

  "Oh, that's a good conversation to have," I agree with a smile. "By the way... that's called sixty-nine."

/>   The heat in Zach's eyes goes on a low simmer as curiosity replaces it. "Sixty-nine? Why is it called that?"

  Pulling one hand free, I write the number with my index finger on his chest, while he looks down at the path I'm drawing. "Sixty-nine... see how it lines up?"

  Recognition and understanding seeps into his gaze, and he nods with a wicked smile. "I see it well. I wondered if it was possible to do that, but never dreamed it would have a name to it."

  "It's a very popular sexual position... or so I'm told."

  Zach surges up from the bed, wrapping his arms around my waist. I can feel his hardness now thumping against the moist flesh between my legs, and he flips us over so I'm lying on my back and he's hovering over me.

  "Have you ever done it before?" he asks.

  I shake my head and chew on my bottom lip. "I haven't. But I always wanted to try it."

  "I'll be your first," he says with triumph.

  And my last, I vainly hope, but I know that's a pipe dream.

  "What about last night?" he asks, his head tilted to the side. "Have you ever had a man put his finger up your ass like I did?"

  Heat rushes through my body at the memory, and my pussy involuntarily clenches. "Never," I whisper.

  Zach's eyes become possessive, and he lowers his face to mine. With his lips hovering just over me, he growls, "I can't wait to fuck your ass. It's going to be divine."

  I gulp hard and nod, although I'm still terrified at the prospect because of how enormous he is. I'm afraid he'll shred me from the inside out, yet the thought of giving myself to him in that most intimate way appeals to me a great deal. I think I need to do some research on this and figure out how I can submit to his need without ending up in a hospital.

  Smiling at my capitulation, Zach lowers his lips and grazes them against mine. Just as his mouth opens to give me a deep kiss, there's a knock on his bedroom door.

  "Zach," I hear Randall call out. "I'm headed out to work in a bit and was wondering if you had a moment to talk."

  My entire body seizes in terror at the prospect of Randall walking in this room. Zach does nothing more than lazily turn his head toward the door with an amused smile on his face.

  I shove at Zach, pushing him off me while I scramble off the far side of the bed and whip the sheet off to cover my body. Panic races through me. Zach merely gets off the bed and calls back out, "Just a minute. I need to get dressed."

  Pointing toward the bathroom door, Zach whispers, "Go."

  I walk as quickly but as lightly as I can across the carpet, straight into his bathroom, where I shut the door halfway so I can hide behind it.

  I can't see a thing, but I can hear Zach rustling around and the unmistakable sound of his zipper being pulled up. I'm wondering how he's going to hide that massive hard-on he was sporting, but then figure Randall showing up at his door probably killed it.

  The door opens, and I hear Randall say jovially, "Good morning."

  His voice is louder. Fuck... he's stepped into the room. Oh, fuck. Does it smell like sex? Had he heard us talking? My heart is pounding, and I immediately start praying for God to get me out of this mess. I start to promise that I'll leave Zach alone if he just makes Randall leave without me being caught, but then I halt myself. No way am I making that promise. I couldn't leave Zach alone if he was surrounded by a hundred green anacondas.

  "So what's up?" Zach asks.

  "Well, I was just wondering... how would you like to go into work with me today? See what I actually do for a living? I thought it might be of interest to you."

  "Um," Zach hesitates, and I can almost envision the inner workings of his brain trying to figure out how to get out of this invitation. While his relationship with Randall has warmed up a bit, Zach is still reserved around the old man. "Well, okay... sure. Why not?"

  "Excellent. I'll see you down at breakfast then," Randall says, and my heart rate starts to decelerate in relief.

  But then he says, "I'll just pop over to Moira's room and see if she'd like to join us."

  Oh fuck, oh fuck, oh fuck. I'm so busted.

  "She's not there," Zach says, and my heart about implodes. "I heard her leave a bit ago. I think she went out for a run."

  A run? Since when do I run?

  "Well, we can wait for her to get back," Randall says kindly. "I'll see you down at breakfast."

  "About thirty minutes?" Zach asks.

  "Splendid," I hear Randall respond, and then he's gone and the door is shutting.

  I wait a good thirty seconds before I have the guts to leave the safety of the bathroom, the sheet still clutched desperately for protection to the front of my body.

  I find Zach lying back on the bed, sprawled out with his hand between his legs. He tugs on his cock, which apparently had not waned in size or stiffness with Randall's visit. His eyes are hot as they laser on to me. "Drop the sheet."

  My hands release the soft material, and it falls to the floor.

  "Now, get over on this bed. I want to try sixty-nine with you."

  "But, you need to get down to breakfast. I need to get back to my room and take a Valium or something. That scared the shit out of me."

  "Get over here now, Moira. I'm not leaving this room until I eat you out and you swallow me whole."

  Oh, God. My entire body quivers, and my feet move toward the bed under the sole power of his words.

  When my thighs bump up against the side mattress, I automatically wait for Zach's command.

  "Climb aboard," he says with a wicked grin. "I want you on top. I want you to set that beautiful pussy on my face, and I want you to go down on my cock."

  I don't know what to say. I have nothing to say. Damn, he's adjusted a little too well to the sexual slang of the modern world. It robs me of the power of speech but not of the power of movement. I climb up onto the bed, turn my body, and lower myself onto his face as he demanded.

  Then Zach proceeds to take me to the sun and back with his fingers and tongue, while I drink down every drop he gives me.

  Chapter 19

  Zach

  One week slides into the next, and contrary to my initial misgivings about visiting with Randall, I'm actually enjoying my time here in Georgia. I've been extremely busy seeing all the sights. Moira has gone all out, introducing me to all of the marvels I would have never known about had I stayed back in Caraica.

  She took me to see a professional baseball game, which was interesting, and I discovered the beauty and wonder of draft beer and hot dogs. We went to see a theater production of Les Miserables, which wasn't so fun, only because Clint and Cara came with us, and I had to fend of Cara for most of the night. She sat beside me and kept pressing toward me to talk during the performance, laying her hand on my knee when she would lean over or pushing her breasts against my arm. It wasn't all that unpleasant to have a soft woman's touch, except it wasn't who I wanted touching me. When I wasn't distracted by her advances, my eyes kept cutting over to Clint, who was leaning in a little too close to Moira for my comfort level. My fingers kept involuntarily curling inward toward my palms, and I had to rein in my desire to do violence to his overly tanned face.

  My favorite thing we've done by far--that didn't involve fucking Moira--was when she took me to hear a guest lecture by a colleague of hers at Emory University. The subject was on uses of medicinal plants among the indigenous shamans of the Amazon, and I found it fascinating.

  I also found it touching that Moira would take the time to let me have something of my culture and heritage while I was here. When the lecture was over, I impulsively leaned over and kissed her on the neck, murmuring, "Thank you for that. It was wonderful."

  She blushed and reached over to squeeze my hand in acknowledgment, then we went back to Randall's house and fucked like crazed animals for the entire afternoon.

  As promised, Randall had taken Moira and me to work with him at the Cannon's corporate headquarters in downtown Atlanta, but only after I had an amazing sixty-nine session with Moira that
I so enjoyed, I repeated it that night when I stole into her room. I never would have imagined that a woman's mouth on my cock would feel so fucking good, or that Moira's sweet flesh would taste so delectable against my tongue.

  The day with Randall was extremely interesting, but I kept getting the feeling that he was putting on too much of a show for me. He went to great lengths to describe his business, focusing on the company's customer service platform and well-made products for a moderate price. He clearly has great pride in his work, but it was as if he were desperate for me to feel that same pride. I paid diligent attention, asking questions and letting my curiosity be satisfied. As we were having dinner that night at the end of the workday, it all became clear to me when Randall wistfully said, "I wish I had someone like you, Zach, to take over for me one day."

  Those words right there said it all. He was looking at me as if I were his heir, and I'm so totally not that person.

  Moira had cut a side-glance at me, her eyes filled with apprehension. She didn't miss it either.

  But I put a stop to his notions, when I kindly but firmly said, "I appreciate the sentiment, Randall, but it's just not something that interests me."

  How could it interest me? Not when my heart and soul were back in the rainforest.

  Still, I won't deny that I didn't start thinking about what it would be like to stay here... not for the opportunity to work for Randall, but to have Moira by my side every day. What would it be like to commit myself to one woman, and be able to indulge in the extreme pleasures she's given me every night, and sometimes during the day, since we came to Atlanta?

  I had no answer to those thoughts.

  Randall has no doubt been kinder to me than I could have imagined. But his kindness brings about a certain level of dissatisfaction to my soul. On the day he took me to see my parents' house, he advised me that he had set up a bank account for my use while I was here. He then handed me a small, square piece of plastic and then had to explain to me what a credit card was.

  I tried to hand it back to him, adamantly refusing his charity. I had done nothing to earn this money. But then he pointed out that I had already accepted his "charity" by agreeing to come back to the States, by agreeing to accept Moira's help for which he was paying for, and by eating his food and staying in his house.