I spread out our blankets and set the packs inside. I took the sling and led Taylor up stream to a small grassy clearing. This time I had her wait as I stalked a grouse and managed to kill one. I cleaned it and we walked the stream back to camp.During our the day we had collected roots and wild onions. I let Taylor put them in the pot of water as I made a spit to roast the bird. I listened when the few birds in the forest went quiet and gestured to Taylor and whispered, "get the bows."I moved the bird off the fire and accepted my bow and quiver. I secured the quiver and caught Taylor and moved towards the side where several dozen saplings were. I ignored the bushes and the stream as I slipped through the young trees. I pulled Taylor down to kneel beside me and nocked an arrow.She was looking around as she got her bow ready. The six men suddenly pushed through the bushes and spread out as they moved towards the shelter. They held ugly looking knives and clubs. I recognized three from. If my mother ever found them she'd kill me. You keep them, and I can look at them when I visit again."They pass the prints back and forth. And then they have seen enough and the camera and photos are left on the table. "Can I hold you?" Dorothy asks.She does not wait for an answer, quickly takes Dorothy in her arms. She rests her chin on the girl's bare shoulder, closes her eyes to savour the reality of having another girl in her arms. Dorothy's large, firm breasts cushion against her own, and she feels the gentle rise and fall of her chest in breathing and pulls the girl even tighter to herself.She runs her palms over the smooth expanse of her back, her hand skating over skin like silk until she reaches the explosion of the flesh of Dorothy's full hips, pliant pudge and so pleasing to take in handfuls and squeeze. She lets her finger explore the contours, the fissure that divides those sumptuous haunches. And as her hands go back and forth over Dorothy's buttocks, Caroline.
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