Beyond the Fence

Elina had always been close to her bother growing up, and when she was younger they had regularly climbed the trees in her village. Not to be outdone by Lukas she strode towards the tree next to his and started to climb, the tree rough against her bare skin, the twigs poking into her unprotected body, but she climbed on regardless, determined not to be beaten.

Reaching the higher branches she saw Lukas sitting on a large branch in his own tree, waiting for her. He looked impressed when she made it, and even more impressed by her bravery as she leant dangerously across for a kiss.

"You are not like the girls from my village," he smiled.

"You are not like the guys from my village," she replied.

"I wish I could take you back, just walk round the fence, back to my home," Lukas said, ignoring her nudity and looking her straight in the eye.

"I wish the same about my village," Elina replied sadly. "If only they could find out what you were like."

"Our people are not bad," Lukas said seriously. "We are just normal people, trying to get on with our lives. If there was no fence, if there was no hate, we could all work together, all be friends."

"Yes, but that will never happen," Elina said, feeling overwhelmed by the stupidity of it. "You will always be my enemy, and I will always be yours."

"We will never be enemies," Lukas said, simply. "Whatever anyone tells us, we know the truth."

And yes, she did know the truth about him. When a man has held you, kissed you, been inside you, told you his secrets, his hopes, his fears, when you have delighted in his pleasure and given yourself to him completely, when you have trusted him though you have no reason to do so, and he has returned and repaid that trust, how can he ever be the enemy.

"We are not enemies," Elina confirmed. "We are... lovers."

It seemed such a strange thing to say, but the instant she said it she knew it was true.

They could have stayed up there forever, and nobody would have ever found them, but the branches they were sitting on were unstable, and Lukas was becoming increasingly worried about Elina's safety. His concern for her just made her love him more, and she needed to embrace him again.

Back on the ground they embraced again, and Elina started to touch his penis, hoping it would react to her attention, desperate to be filled once more by him before she had to leave him forever. To her delight as she touched it started to stiffen slightly, started to fill out in her hand. She felt her own body, still unsatisfied from earlier, starting to warm and enliven with anticipation. Lukas looked at her with admiration, made no attempt to stop her.

She sat up now as he lay on the ground, her knelt with her legs on either side of his, gently experimenting with his manhood, desperately hoping she could return it to its fully erect state as it had been earlier, that it could once again go inside her and unite them. Without feeling self conscious at all she started to touch herself with her other hand, trying to mimic the rhythm, to keep their pleasure in sync.

The roles were reversed from before, and now Elina took the opportunity to explore Lukas' body, taking her time to touch every part, feeling his muscles, running her hands through the hair on his chest, gently feeling his balls, rolling them in her fingers, memorising the texture of his sack, the skin, the hair. When this had to last a lifetime, every second mattered.

Her body awoke and tingled, her hand constantly returning between her legs, but now also brushing her boobs, even that spot on her side that Lukas had discovered felt good to the touch when she was aroused. She had learnt not just about him, but about herself too. Though his hands twitched with desire to touch her, he allowed her to have control, to bring their bodies to arousal so much slower than he had, to tease and experiment.

She told him she loved him, that he was beautiful, that she had known he was special since the first time she had seen him, that the last few months had been the best of her life, that she couldn't imagine life without him. He replied in kind, not hesitating to declare his own love for her, detailing her every perfection, her hair, her eyes, her face, her body, the way she laughed and even the way she looked so sad when the time came for them to part.

As he spoke she gently took him inside her again, letting his now fully erect manhood slip inside her moist vagina, the entry so much more comfortable this time, the feeling of control giving her confidence, making her body thrill at the possibilities. She loved him for treating her as an equal, letting her be in charge, rather than ordering her around as the guys in the village did. She loved him for caring, she loved him for loving her.

She started to gently thrust, the pleasure seeping up her body, but her own enjoyment secondary now to his. If he was never going to see her again, she had this once chance to thank him for the happiness he had given her, to give him a memory to live with forever. She watched his face as she let him rub against her insides, seeing him screw it up with pleasure, desperate to earn a moan or a groan or a grunt.

Elina started to ride harder, her body rewarding her for her efforts, her boobs bouncing, Lukas' eyes watching them, his face lighting up, Elina realising how he saw her, how arousing he found her, and riding harder, amazed at her ability to give him so much pleasure, determined to make him lose control, lose his inhibitions, make him call out in pleasure.

She rode harder still, his manhood pressing against the sensitive walls of her vagina, filling her body with pleasure, her boobs bouncing furiously now, and then he groaned and she felt so much achievement, and she rode harder and he groaned again, his face almost unrecognisable now as he was overwhelmed by the pleasure, Elina sure her own face must be similarly distorted but not caring.

The effort was too much and she slowed, riding more slowly, taking a rest, regaining her breath, feeling him still hard inside her, watching him watching her, his eyes roving all over her bare skin, and herself looking down at his exposed body, amazed that she could ever have won a guy so strong and fit, the physical pleasure multiplying, the intensity almost too much to bear.

She started to ride hard again, and she knew now she could not last much longer: the intensity was too much, the emotions unbearable, the climax inevitable. She kept expecting him to climax as he had before, denying her the finish, but he didn't, and she couldn't wait, and suddenly she felt the most intense shock run through her body, far more powerful than any she had experienced before, and it filled her and it stayed there, seeming to last forever.

Elina tried to keep thrusting, but she was tired out now, all of her energy sapped, and her lady parts were so sensitive now it was almost painful to continue. She let herself fall onto him, wrapping herself around him, letting him slip out of her, feeling so impossibly content.

It was Lukas' turn to look frustrated now, and he took his manhood in his hand, thrusting it furiously until he came, his cum erupting onto her stomach. Elina thought about wiping it off, but she was feeling too sleepy to do anything. She lay down on top of him, snuggled up, and closed her eyes.

***

The shouting awoke her. As she stirred she could feel that she was lying on top of Lukas, who was also awaking. The sound hadn't come from Lukas, so where had it come from? They were alone here, and nobody ever came this far into the hills. She looked around sleepily, hearing another shout.

Suddenly a panic flooded her body. There was a man standing there, a man she recognised as one of the most connected men in the village, a businessman who knew everyone and was respected and admired. Elina rolled off Lukas, but suddenly realised she was naked and quickly covered her body with her hands. Lukas did likewise.

The man was staring straight at them, and she could tell her was enraged. And he was holding a gun. He shouted again, so furious that she could not make out what he was saying. Elina scrabbled over to where she had discarded her clothes nearby and started to get dressed. The man paused where he was, not that many metres away, letting her regain some modesty. But when Lukas started to stand the man held out his hand and made it clear that he was to stay where he was.

There was nowhere to run. Elina had never been that far from her own village, and she knew nobody other than her friends and family. She may have been able to hide out in the hills for a while, but they would have found her eventually. Besides, if she tried to run, she couldn't rule out the possibility that the man might shoot her. Certainly he would have no hesitation in shooting Lukas if he tried to escape.

Sensing that Lukas posed the greatest escape risk the man concentrated on him, dragging him to his feet. Elina watched helplessly. The man ordered Lukas forward at gunpoint, refusing to allow him to reclaim his clothes. He marched Lukas back to the village, Elina in tow, and threw Lukas into his basement and locked the door behind him. He ordered Elina back to her home. When she refused, he called her mother who dragged her there.

***

The story was interrupted by a shrill ringtone. My guest apologised and glanced at the display. Her face lit up and a smile quickly spread across it.

"My husband," she explained.

She apologised again and answered in her native language, the sound strange after hearing her speak in English for such an extended time. I looked around, wondering if anyone had been listening in on the story, but everyone appeared preoccupied by their own conversations and lives.

The woman apologised a third time as she ended the call.

I had listened in silence up to now, allowing the story to flow, but it appeared that she had been distracted and she did not resume the story. I sensed perhaps she did not want to relive the traumatic end to the tale. But the call had convinced me I could ask the question. She had found happiness now. I had to know what had happened to the man in the story.

She paused for a long time after I asked, her expression serious. Then the smile broke out again.

"That was him," she said, pointing at the phone.

"But... how?" I asked.

"This is why I want to tell the story," she said, slowly, considering how best to phrase her explanation.

"I see every day war and fighting and hatred on the television, evil people doing evil things. And I have experienced much of that in my life. But in every war zone, in every conflict... these people are human beings... there are always people with compassion, who will put themselves at risk to do the right thing."

She paused again, a tear coming to her eye.

"Love is more powerful than any bomb or bullet - it will win against hate, every time."

She looked down at the table, supporting her head with her hand. She was finding it difficult to continue, but she spoke again.

"I am locked up in my house, not allowed to see anyone other than family. My mother, she doesn't understand. She tells me I am confused, delusional. My sisters, my aunties, my uncle, they all ignore me, shout at me, hit me. But my brother... I didn't know but... he could see..."

She tailed off, and took a few moments to compose herself.

"He hates Lukas' people with all the passion that everyone else does, but - he love me, and he could see I love Lukas. And he does something incredible. He is supposed to be guarding Lukas, but he let him escape. He even give him some of his clothes to wear. Then he comes to my house and points a gun at my mother. He'd never have shot her... I hope not... but he let me run out."

"I find Lukas in the dark and we run and run. We don't think about the danger, we just run. It takes weeks of hiding and running and stealing to stay alive. But we make it to the border, and we hide in a goods train leaving the country. It is still a long, long journey, but eventually we make it here."

She tapped on her phone a few times, then held it up so I could see. There she was in a white dress, glowing with happiness, and beside her was a man, smartly dressed, also smiling. Her story had painted a vivid picture of him, and it was strange to see what he really looked like: he was different to how I had imagined, but together they looked the perfect couple.

"So you will write the story?" she asked, tapping the button on the side to turn the phone's screen dark.

"I will," I promised.

"And make sure to tell people," she said, pausing to consider how best to phrase her parting comment. "Tell people that nothing should ever stand in the way of being with the person you love, the person who makes you happy - nothing."

I promised, and she bade me goodbye, disappearing into the crowd on the street outside. Somewhere thousands of miles to the east of where I now sat the fence continued to run through the hills, separating the two villages, maintaining that hate and fear that existed for reasons nobody really understood.

But there were two people it could not keep apart. It was just one story amongst thousands, but a story that stood out because it was about love rather than hate, hope rather than fear. And for that reason, it was a story worth telling.