Catching Fire

Author's Foreword: This series has themes of romance, sex, friendship, humor, safe and consensual BDSM, and above all, intimacy and the concept of memory. Any resemblance to real people or events is coincidental. I want you, reader, to come away with more empathy, appreciation, and joy for yourself and others than you began. As I did when writing this.

Note on Part 14: Almost done, folks. It's not quite the end but it's close. This one is very plot-focused, but don't worry, there's plenty of spice along the way. This installment was unfairly hard to write for a lot of reasons and it took extra time. I hope that makes it satisfying to read. Thanks for playing along while I try to finger-paint with words.

***

***End of Summer***

"Luke, we... we need to talk."

***

***End of Spring***

Neither of us had called it a date, but I think that's what it was; something to make it less strange that we'd seen each other naked more often than clothed. We were on a hillside hiking trail overlooking the city. Erin's phone rang for the third time in as many minutes, and with a huff of exasperation she walked away to finally answer it in some privacy. I was surprised that she had good enough cell phone tower coverage to get a signal.

I looked down the long, green, wind-swaying slope to the distant city below where we'd both grown up. A place where we had never so much as seen each other until barely a week or so before.

That couldn't be right, I reflected, we'd almost certainly seen one another at some point. Even in a city that size, there was zero privacy. You couldn't go anywhere without recognizing someone every single day. We had to have seen each other. We just hadn't known it.

I could imagine two preschoolers in line at a grocery store with their mothers, shyly waving at each other before either of us could tie our shoes. As we got older, perhaps we had unknowingly spent many days wobbling past one another on trainer bikes in a park, or tearing around a playground at top speed for ages until puberty made a complete mess of everything. In middle school, I may have been fascinated by a shimmering sprite of a girl flying gracefully across an ice rink or a city ballet stage, my eyes and fingers running over a printed program to try and guess which one she could be. We had certainly cheered from opposite bleachers at high school games, each of us one more face in a screaming crowd. Perhaps I had stood motionless in a movie theater lobby, popcorn about to fall from overloaded hands in wide-eyed, dry-mouthed, heart-pounding stupefaction as she walked by on the arm of someone else. And it was almost certain she had passed by me unseen in the airport on the way home from college, that summer or a different one, and all I knew about it was the beguiling yet ephemeral scent of lilac that set an invisible hook in me.

"Sorry about that," she said, coming back and hurriedly stashing her phone in the pack I was hauling. For being so excited to go hiking, she didn't carry much herself.

"Everything okay? They sure called a lot, whoever it was." I had a pretty good guess of who it had been, and from what I understood they were a fair bit taller than me, much better dressed, and lived in New York.

"Oh, yeah, no, it's fine," she shrugged. She snuck up to bring my face down for a kiss.

"Ever think about growing this out?" she asked, running her palms over my stubble.

"Haven't tried in a few years," I said, "But I guess it's probably fuller now."

"I think you'd be very handsome with a beard," she mused, "Definitely less scratchy than your shadow, at least." I wanted to offer a retort or protest that I was fine just the way I was, but then she took my hand and leaned on my shoulder.

Alright, maybe I'd grow a beard. A short one. Just for the summer.

"Come on," she said, pulling at me, "It'll take forever if we don't keep moving."

***

***Early Summer***

As Erin took a step closer to me, I praised her and thumbed the button to switch the vibrator on. My heart raced as I watched her expression change. It was one of our first Silence sessions, the cutesy name we used for BDSM play. The closer she physically was to me and the better she obeyed my instructions, the more I rewarded her. I was conducting it with a remote, 'rabbit' style vibrator, playing a kind of red light-green light conditioning game as a gateway to bigger things.

"Come h-" I tried to say, but the words stuck in my throat out of choked excitement.

Damn it Luke, I thought, be more confident, calmer; slow down. Breathe.

"Come here, please" I said in a passably confident timbre. A grin flitted across her face, and she took another step forwards.

"Stop," I said after one step. She smiled wickedly and took another. I clicked the switch on the vibrator off, and she pouted.

"No you don't," I said calmly, "See? I only like it when you listen." She paused and waited, defiant in the thin tee shirt I'd insisted she wear, nothing else covering her body and the shirt only barely coming halfway down her hips.

"Turn around," I ordered. When she complied, I flicked the switch from Off to Medium for a long pulse, then back to Off.

"Good," I said, standing up from the loveseat I'd been lounging in.

"You're very flexible from ballet, I know," I said, coming closer to her, "I'd like to see it some more. Bend over and touch the floor, please. If you need to spread your legs, you may, but I want to see how close you can keep them together." She tossed a quick watch-this look at me, brought her feet together, and placed her palms on the carpet with straight legs and no sign of effort. I clicked her into High, savoring her slight grunt and miniscule shifting of weight before bringing it back down to Low.

"I'm impressed. Lovely view. How are you with a little spanking?" I asked, rubbing my palm along her from knee to lower back. I clicked the rabbit to Off so we could both focus, but I was bubbling with near-first-time nerves. I wondered if she felt the same.

"I may have done it once or twice," she admitted, sounding equally hesitant and hopeful, "It was alright. I don't mind trying again. Just go easy at first, okay? Last time someone tried, they thought it meant to swing for the fences. They were gone before they could say sorry, got me?"

"I do. And I've had some practice," I deflected, "Let's try, and you tell me if and how I should keep going. Hands on your knees and bend them a little. Arch your back a bit. Mmhm, stick that cute little ass out. Oh, that's good. Very inviting." At that, I smacked her rump upward with an open palm, making contact as briefly as possible. At the sound of it, I turned the vibrator to High for a count of three before turning it to Off. Then I kissed the cheek I'd slapped and caressed it in the same spot, the back of my hand brushing gently against her.

"How's that?" I asked.

"Good," she replied after a moment, "Other side? I hate being uneven." I precisely repeated the process on her other cheek: smack, vibrator, caress. Then, after a nod of agreement from her, I started a slow, almost desultory series of small taps that intensified by fractions of degrees, faster and firmer. She didn't wince, didn't cry out - but she did get quiet. And pink. Eventually I let my hand rest across her cheeks, enjoying how smooth and hot her rosy skin felt under the new set of summer work calluses on my hand.

"Oh," she said in a faraway voice, a flush spreading from a dozen places on her body, racing together and connecting. I smacked her slowly and firmly in the very center a few more times, watching how her muscle quickly dampened and absorbed the ripples, as well as how the delicious little bit of extra she had that tried to keep going in spite of it. I twitched the vibrator higher and soothed her, barely pressing with my palm.

"More?" I asked, leaving her on Medium.

"Y-yes," she husked, "Definitely. I think I like how you do that."

"Soon," I promised, abruptly taking my hand away and flicking the remote to Off, "Maybe I'll put you over my knees so you're more comfortable. And more exposed. Would you like that?"

"I, um... don't make me wait too long until we try," she laughed, and I smiled at that, pulsing her once on High.

"Count on it. Now; straighten back up, please. I'd like you to show off for me. Anything you like."

"Want to see me do the splits?" she asked after a moment's thought.

"Yes," I said hungrily, "Naked, please." Medium for a moment, then back to Low. She tossed away her scanty tee shirt and slid down, smoothly and slowly, until she was completely flat against the floor, legs splayed to the side. I shook my head slightly to clear it. It didn't really work. I cleared my throat.

"Anything else you want to show me while you're there?" I asked.

"Something I'm good at," she offered, raising her eyebrows and slowly opening her mouth to let her tongue trace her lips and teeth. I moved around behind her and began to undress myself completely, letting her hear the slow clink of a belt and the long draw of a zipper. She tried to turn her head, and I clicked the vibrator off.

"Eyes forward," I said, waiting to continue until she obeyed. As I tossed away my clothes, I paused to really look at the details of her lines, the dimples above her hips, the upright set of her shoulders and back, the incredible control of her limbs and joints. Every part of her body told a story of art expressed through regimented yet exuberant physicality.

"You're amazing," I marveled, "I've never seen anyone like you. You're like a panther."

"A panther?" she laughed, "Maybe a teeny-tiny one."

"A panther kitten, maybe?"

"Aww, 'Kitten?' I like that!" She glanced over her shoulder, delight in her voice and face showing how well I'd caught her off guard. I wondered how soon I could make her feel that way again.

"You could definitely call me that more often. But I can't see *you* right now," she said throatily, seductively, "Can you fix that?" I leaned forward to where her hair touched the nape of her neck and inhaled slowly, catching something unique behind the perfume; her natural skin.

I stepped around her, making sure to click the vibrator back into life the moment she could see me, drawing a pleased murmur. She beckoned me closer.

***

Later, after our Silence game and a spine-tingling display of her skills, we were being quite loud in her large soaker bathtub.

"Yes!" she sobbed, leaning back against me, both arms reaching over and behind to wrap around my head and neck, "That feels *so* good! How? Why?!?! Oh my God I don't care, YES!" Her whole body shook against me. I didn't know why either, and I didn't question it.

She had been teasing me with her physique until I'd finally had enough. I'd firmly wrapped an arm around her from behind and pulled her to me in a way that left no doubt about which of us was far stronger, or which had run out of patience. She'd stopped being coy when she felt my arm squeeze her tight against me, felt my growl vibrate through her torso, felt my fingers stroke down her body. In response, she had raised her hips to just above the waterline so both of us could see while my hands held her and unmade her. Sharp release overtook her like a great wave, throwing her back into my lap and begging for more and more and more.

"You're wearing my arms out," I laughed eventually, kissing her neck.

"S-sorry," she said shakily, "Not really, though. The hell *was* that?"

"Turns out you don't mind being in my lap, Erin," I said smugly.

"No kidding!" she agreed, then half-turned to look at me, grinning, "Let's not forget that."

"Definitely not." Further repartee was cut off by her mouth against mine.

"My turn," she soon demanded, "Out." She pulled the drain plug and we helped rinse each other off before she pinched and prodded and groped me into her bed, shoving me to my back. I was already hard, and she quickly spat on my cock before saddling up.

"Think it'll work better this time?" I asked.

"Even if it doesn't, I think practice makes perfect, don't you?" I had something smarmy to say in reply but I forgot it as I slipped inside her slick vise. Things slowed down before we got too far.

"Fffuck," she groaned, "That's a tight fit. But... mmm... even just a few inches is nice. Shallow beats nothing, right, Handsome?" She was desperate for reassurance. Like me.

"Yeah," I strained, "And getting better. Just... still real tight. Do I feel okay for you?"

"Mmhm," she whimpered. I helped her ride me gingerly, and her hips ground a little more smoothly after some more encouragement, some more softly shared laughs, some more patience. I was barely inside, but it was wonderful anyway. Once in a while she would raise herself off of me to quickly suck and spit our juices up and down my shaft, plainly enjoying the view and my insensate sounds before wriggling her hips down on me again. As she leaned forward to kiss me, her wet hair was cold and dripped against my face.

"You know what I've been daydreaming about, Luke?" she panted, breath smelling like hot, messy, fervent sex.

"Tell me," I groaned in distraction.

"Once you and I finally fit all the way, the first thing I want you to do is put my face in a pillow... and tell me to be as loud as I wanna be while you... hnnnh...*rearrange* me. I don't want to walk for DAYS, Mister, you hear me?"

"Then what are you waiting for?" I replied with a pleased smile and a smack to her smooth thigh, "Get back to practicing." She grinned, working her way a little further down to get a wince and a smile from both of us. Her hands gripped my shoulders as she bounced gingerly on me, eventually moving quickly, breathing sporadically. When I pinched her nipples, she moved even faster, air stuttering in and out of her lungs.

"Close," she panted.

"Same," I groaned.

She got off me, quickly turning around to present me with a view of her small, tight, wonderfully round butt. She made a show of sucking one of her fingers for a moment.

"Good. And to make sure of it," she said heatedly, "I'm taking this finger and putting it in my ass. And you're going to cum all up inside me. I want that feeling *so* bad right now. It's all this shallow teasing; I can't stand it!" I slowed, eventually holding her with my bridged body.

"You're sure?" I said, trying not to sound nervous and probably failing, "We haven't done that without double protection before."

"I'm sure," she laughed, "Been on the pill for years. Never failed. Trust me. Besides, I want to please you afterwards." Her hand drifted behind her, and I watched her tense for a moment and then relax happily from her second penetration. I gripped her by her grinding, please-hold-me hips and gave up on holding back.

"Like having that finger in your ass, Kitten?" I grunted, thrusting in and out as best her pussy would allow, "We can make that happen and a whole lot more whenever you want."

"Ooh, I'd like that," she whispered excitedly, "But first, buy me something pretty to practice with, Handsome. Then we'll see wh-wherrrre we can get. Too bad you're so big, but I bet if we really.... Oh my God. Fuck. Oh fuck! I'm gonna -" She was cut off by my sudden, prolonged, unbidden throbbing inside her. It felt too right to deny.

Erin's wordless shouts overlaid my own as we felt each other clench and release spastically, coming together and apart as best we could, her inner walls milking my cock for every drop I was worth, her finger squirming against me through her flesh as she pumped herself rapidly throughout the orgasm.

When I was finally aware of my surroundings again, Erin was riding me slowly, showing off her incredible, athletic body. She whispered happily with every grind, every tiny motion of her finger, marveling quietly at how much cum was inside her. She eventually got up, strutting to the bathroom and back.

"Good. Fuckin'. Job, Stud. Let's go get some naughty toys tomorrow," she said eagerly, alternately squirming against my body and staring at me with those fox-woman eyes.

"Sounds like fun. Although just my luck we'll run into ten people I know."

"Do you even know ten people, you nerd?" She couldn't help dissolving into endless giggles, then shrieking and running away as I tickled her out of spite.

***

***Mid Summer***

"You fainted. In a hot tub. People *drown* that way. You're sure you're okay? Not feeling woozy?"

"Holy crap, yes, Luke, I'm fine! Lighten up, you nerd. You could give my mother a lesson in worrying."

She rolled her eyes and stared upwards, muttering for strength. We were at the cabin we'd rented in the mountains, relaxing on the couch we'd defiled earlier that day. Between the hike, the heavier Silence session in the porch undercroft, wild sex, and the scare in the hot tub, we both needed a rest for the remainder of that night. We decided to have some snacks and tea and watch a movie on the old VHS hooked up to the crusty TV. After perusing the 'vast' selection of films on offer, she'd informed me that we were going to watch Fiddler on the Roof.

"What the hell do you MEAN you haven't seen it?!" She was far more incredulous than I expected. She looked unfairly cute that way, hands on her hips and in the one outfit I'd allowed her to win back from me. It was a dark teal dress, and I adored that color on her. I also didn't mind that it was very 'easy access.'

"What's weird about that?" I objected, "I just haven't seen it! I don't even know what it's about besides musicians." I was paying more attention to her ass than the argument as she put the tape in.

"Damn, kid. You kinda suck," She replied, shaking her head in disbelief as she whacked the TV into reasonable working order and laid back down on the couch, her feet resting expectantly in my lap. I snorted and started to rub them as the movie began.

"Wait," she said, hitting pause with the chunky remote, "Did you read that note yet?"

"The one you said was waiting for me upstairs? No." I liked watching her eyes flick around through ideas, discarding and assessing and editing.

"You should," she decided, "Actually, that's kind of perfect. Yep. But don't read it until first thing in the morning, okay?"

"Alright," I said, feeling more than a little curious.

"Can't believe you've never seen Fiddler on the Roof," she muttered, pressing Play again, "How can you even date a Jewish girl without any pop culture context?"

"What'd you say?" I blurted in eyebrow-raising surprise.

"That you're a mutant who's never seen Fiddler on the Roof."

"No! The other thing!"

"Are you shitting me? Did you seriously not know I was Jewish?"

"I knew that!" I protested.

"Don't know what your problem is, then. Just watch the movie, lunkhead."

"But -"

"Did you forget you were supposed to be rubbing my feet?" I actually had, so I got back to it and tried to shrug off the other thing she'd said. I watched her out of the corner of my eye whenever I took a drink of chamomile or ate a snack, but she seemed content and unconcerned.

I was surprised at how much I liked the movie, and I watched it to the end even though Erin fell asleep on me towards the end. Rather than deal with waking her up and trudging back upstairs with a grumpy girl in tow, I pulled a thin blanket over us. I slowly, blissfully drifted off on the couch with her in my arms, and dreamt of Erin in the ballet sequence of the movie with nothing on but a flowery handkerchief around her hair.

I'll admit, I may have half-woken her up for a sweet, quick intermission before going back to sleep where we were.

***

Dawn was just a little bit early to open my eyes, in my opinion, but it happened anyway. It was cold outside our cocoon and Erin had burrowed into the warm gap between me and the back of the couch. I stayed there for a long time, listening to birds singing counterpoint to her miniature snores. Eventually I had to get up, and I did my best to weasel out without waking her up. She grumbled something as she curled up into a little ball under the blanket, and I snuck away.