I've Heard Stories About You... (REPOST)

What was happening here? The girl had managed to make him the most incensed being on Earth and turn around to make him feel ...well, he didn't know what he felt. It felt good, yes. But, better than that. Better than the feeling of accomplishment he got when he killed for Mother. Better than 'good' and that combined, even. Did they even have a name for it? For that sort of feeling? He walked toward the lake, stopping only when the water's edge touched the very tips of his boots. He stared out over the water, the moon's light barely reflected on it. The constant cloud cover of New Jersey made the moon almost a rarity, even in the summer. It made his job of patrolling the success that it was, no doubt.

He removed his boots, worn and holey socks, pants and shirt. His movements were methodical. The movements of one who didn't have the opportunity to see new clothes very often and was trained to care for the current set with a slightly higher priority than normal. He waded into the water only til it came to his knees. Coming here had always been his 'safe place.' The lake, in a way, was his home. Almost a mother, in it's own right, having created him as he was today. He didn't care much to go any deeper into the water than he was now, unless there was imminent danger. It wasn't that he feared the water. The water was simply an uncomfortable place to be once it reached a certain level of depth.

Crouching down, he cupped some of the water and splashed it over one leg. Then the other, cleaning off the run of come on his thighs. He splashed the water on his groin, next. The feeling of the cold water was...less than comfortable, to be sure. He ran one of his hands over his now flaccid and satisfied cock, and hissed in a breath at the odd sort of pain it caused, touching the over-sensitive tip. He continued to splash water over the rest of his body, cleaning the weeks of grime that had accumulated since his last bath. As he splashed water onto his face, he caught sight of his own reflection in the water. His deformed face didn't really bother him as much as it had when he was younger. Now, it was simply another weapon in his armory, to use against trespassers. But, even now, his face seemed different. The girl had put her lips to his own. His face hadn't frightened her in the dark and pressed to her own. It wasn't a weapon against her. His good eye narrowed as it caught sight of a dark, thin stream of blood making it's way from his lip toward his chin.

He swiped at it with a watery hand. 'She'll make you stronger, Jason.' Mother's voice startled him. It'd been so long since she'd voiced her opinion on anything. 'She'll give you more reason to protect home.' He took another look at his reflection in the water, before giving his face a final splash and wading out of the water and back to his clothes.

Inside the cellar, the girl was asleep. Or, at least, pretending to be asleep. He gave a brief pause to look over her, in the fetal position, tangled in the old sheets and back to his own pallet. How any person sleeping in a fetal position could convince Mother they would make him stronger, was beyond him.

The next night the moon actually broke through the clouds every few minutes. Jason had kept himself busy outside of the cellar, stockpiling whatever food he could salvage and rummaging the cabins for anything that seemed useful for a small place that now housed two people. As he passed the shower curtain he'd torn before, he thought of bringing it back and setting up a boundary between the two sleeping areas. But, he didn't like the idea of not being able to see her precisely when he wanted to.

Come to think of it, as he laid on his side, he didn't like that she was across the room anymore. She was still awake, he could tell by her breathing. She'd been quiet since he'd come in. In the candle light, the bruises in the shape of his hands on her hips and shoulder were a dark red-purple contrast to her pale skin. His eyes had been drawn to them just as they'd been drawn to the water droplets, before. Would he still be able to see them in the moonlight? Without thinking too much about it, he got up and stalked toward her bed. He was careful to keep his face out of the light from the floor-level window, as he leaned down and grabbed her arm and yank her up to her feet. 'Ow, hey, what the hell?!' she yelped, as he all but dragged her toward his own bed. He pushed her down onto the sheets and laid down next to her, against the wall. There. That seemed better.

She huffed once and he prepared himself for the irritating onslaught of words. 'You want me to sleep over here now, or what?' Not quite what he expected. Her voice was soft and confused. He didn't answer her. Didn't even bat an eyelash. 'Hm, maybe you want something else?' The lilt in her voice gave away her meaning clearly. Yes, he did want that, too. But he knew, now, that she would give him what he wanted.

He searched the darkness for the bruises he knew to be present, but couldn't see them. The knowledge of their existence was enough for now. 'How about something different, then?' She smoothed her fingers down one of his arms, and over the waist of his pants. His fingers twitched in reflex but he didn't push her away. Already, his blood was rushing to his cock, readying for whatever was coming. She shoved him, roughly onto his back and worked his pants over his hips and down to half way along his thighs. Just enough to expose what she was after. His cock stood tall, proud and slightly curved with the unbearable hardness. She wrapped her fingers around it and gave it a gentle squeeze. His hips twitched but he remained still. She leaned down, keeping her eyes trained on where she estimated his face to be by the sound of his breathing, and ran the flat of her tongue along the underside of him. Root to tip. He caught his breath when she pulled away and he reached out, blindly, grabbing a handful of her hair and pulling her down again. She obeyed, willingly, and took the head into her mouth, flicking the tip of her tongue along the hole at the top and along the ridged crown of it.

He sucked in a very audible breath that time. The stimulation was almost unbearable to his brain, but his body arched upward, forcing himself more into her mouth. Unprepared, she backed away when the head of his cock touched the back of her throat and she gagged. 'Hey!' she yelped and pressed his hips back down to the sheets and holding them there. Most likely, causing bruises that would nearly mirror her own on her hips, from him. 'Settle it down, Voorhees, or I'll stop, you hear me?' she demanded. Of course, he didn't respond. But he relaxed himself back into his sheets and waited impatiently, breathing heavily.Reflexive tears ran down her cheeks as she returned to her previous task. She started the torture over, from the very beginning, taking him in slowly and working her way to taking him deeper. Eventually she set a steady, slow rhythm, not wanting him to come just yet. Just feel. Just feel what was to be had. She kept the flat of her tongue pressed against the underside, and paid special attention to the sensitive underside of the head, as she moved up.

Jason couldn't maintain control over the movement of his body for long. His hips rose and fell to match her rhythm. His breathing was erratic, completely uncontrolled, almost sounding as if he were being drowned again. It would catch, speed up, slow down. The sound of it was hypnotic and sent shivers to the right places in her. With one hand, she worked her panties off and lifted herself into a position where she could continue to suck him and pleasure herself while she did so.

She reached a hand between her legs, stroking the once shaven hairs that were now growing out to a normal length. She was wet already, that wasn't a surprise to her. However, the sensitivity of her clit -was- a surprise. She rubbed her index finger over it, circling it a few times and she pulled her mouth off of him to moan. She leaned down and took him into her mouth with a new fervor.

Oh. She was making those noises, again. The noises he'd first heard and watched her. The noises had a more direct effect on him this time. As she moaned around his cock, it sent small vibrations. The extra stimulation felt so good it was nearly painful. He wanted to crawl out of his skin to get away, and crawl into her mouth to stay forever. He released her hair and gripped the sheets below him, tearing them even more with the force of it. Just when he thought he couldn't possibly take anymore...she pulled her mouth away from him. He laid there, thinking she couldn't possibly be so cruel. He wasn't even sure that -he- was that cruel. It would be a completely new and unexplored level of cruelty, to him. But, no, she was moving. Crawling over him and covering what she could of his body, with her own.

She placed herself directly over his hips, over his cock. She didn't bother to remove the tank top she wore, or try to remove anymore of his own clothes. She sat up straight and moved her hips back and forth, sliding her wetness along the length of his cock. She rocked in a way that allowed her to stimulate her clit with the head and she gasped. God, it felt so good. Jason wasn't huge or small. He was a big man, and had a proportionate cock to his size. A perfect one to slide along. Perfect and as hard as steel against her hot, wet, softness. 'Jason,' she half moaned and half whispered. He tried to watch her, tried to see her, but the moonlight was gone. That wet heat felt so intensely delicious. He would kill for this feeling. But, she wasn't done with him, not just yet.

After a few long, slow strokes, she held him at the base and lifted herself over him. Without any stretching it would have to be slow, but she didn't care. She wanted, needed him inside of her. She lowered herself just enough to press the head in, and Jason was lost in sensation. His most sensitive nerves were being bombarded by addictive wet heat. He gripped her hips and thrust himself up, in a sharp motion. Oh. Oh, he'd never felt something so intense. It was tight, God, so tight. Tight and hot..and wet. She yelped in pain, in response. 'Voorhees, dammit!' He couldn't even hear it. He didn't care, he had to move. She wriggled on top of him, trying to force herself to adjust to the rough intrusion. 'Alright, you little bastard, just for that, you get to work, too,' she whispered and settled herself down on him. She worked one of his hands loose, from her hip and forced him to settle it further inside of her leg. She placed his thumb on her clit, and let him feel the little nub. 'You keep your finger there. It'll feel better for you, I promise.' He could barely comprehend her words in his own haze. Keep his finger on that, feels better. Okay.

She lifted herself up and came back down slowly. Ah, yes. That was nice. But he wanted something harder. He arched up, unable to communicate what he wanted in any other way. She obliged him with rising up and coming back down on him with more force. The first few thrusts were simply experimental. But soon, she started up a rhythm the both of them could manage. His thumb slid over her clit and she voiced her own pleasure. She moaned, arched and whispered his name, while all he could manage was a few select soft grunts. More like the sound of air being forced out of his lungs. It only took a minute or two of her riding him for him to grip her hips with both hands and hold her still while thrust himself as deep as he could manage. The feeling of coming in that heat was...indescribable. Instinctively, he pulled her down. He clung to her body as if it were a lifeline, crushing her to himself, til his breath returned to him.

His arms fell, limply, to the bed and he gave one last sigh. 'Oh no, you aren't getting off that easy...' she said and brought his hand back up to her body. She lifted herself, allowing him to slip out of her. She placed his hand on her upper thigh, positioning his finger over her clit once again. She brought up his other hand and singled out two of his fingers; the ring and middle fingers. She lifted herself and carefully placed his fingers where his cock had been. At this point, he didn't particularly care where she put his fingers, or if she even wanted to chop them off. He was tired. For the first time he could ever remember, he was well and truly spent. She slid his fingers into her, slowly. A small gasp passed her lips as she set out to continue the thrusting from before, on his fingers. He moved them, lazily, in and out of her. 'Rub. Rub that spot, Jason, please,' she whimpered. He gave the small nub a few rough, experimental rubs, but that's all it took. He felt her inner muscles contract around his fingers and her moans became louder. Almost screams, and his interest was captured again, and he would give anything for the ability to see in the dark clearly. He kept rubbing, until she squeaked and backed away from him and his fingers. 'God, Jason...' she said, breathing hard and resting her head on his half clothed thigh. He let her rest a moment, before awkwardly pulling his pants back on, ignoring the stickiness of both of them lingering. She didn't bother to put her own panties back on. She curled up beside his legs and her breathing leveled itself out, for sleep. He couldn't bring himself to care, too relaxed and tired to drag her back to her own bed or to clean himself off in the lake, again.


A/N:

Aaaaaw, there ya go. Some good not-so-clean action for you. Sorry, LadyVoorhees, It took me so long to finish it. XD