The Bridge

Word Count 859



    Areollas the Amazon approaches the bridge.  A man, standing in the middle of the bridge, bars her way.

    “Halt, warrior-wench.  I am Maximus Erectus.  You may come hither, but no further.”

    Areollas looks at the flowing, gushing river below.  “You don’t think you can cast me into the nether river?”  She licks her lips.  “It has been years since a man succeeded in getting me wet.”

    Maximus pulls out his long sword very slowly, while Areollas slides her hands into position on a hard, wooden staff.

    They size each other up.  Areollas is tall, blonde and fair skinned.  The curves of her luscious body are covered (barely) by animal fur.  Maximus is tanned and ridiculously muscular.  He is naked except for a loincloth (bulging), and a strange purple and red helmet he wears upon his head.

    “Come and get some, Maximus.”

    “Barbarian-bitch, prepare to be thoroughly licked.”

    They pounce upon one another and the encounter commences.  Maximus’s long sword strokes are potent, and he hits all the right spots, yet Areollas seems to be able to handle his every thrust comfortably.  In fact, she even seems to be enjoying his repetitive probing.  For a time they engage each other quietly, the silence broken only by the sounds their weapons make when slapping against one another.

    After a time Maximus’s muscles rip and flex, and Areollas’s face becomes flushed from exertion.  As they strain against one another they begin to call out – Maximus’s groans are low and guttural, while Areollas’s cries are higher pitched moans.  Soon both Areollas and Maximus are panting from their efforts.  They both glisten with sweat.

    “Maximus, your swordplay is masterful.  You really know how to work that thing, don’t you?”

    “Aye, and I have never seen a woman handle a staff so deftly."     

    Suddenly they simultaneously disarm one another, their weapons fall into the river below.  Maximus seems momentarily deflated by the loss of his sword, and Areollas takes advantage of this by aggressively jumping on top of him, her hips landing firmly upon his pelvis.  They wrestle wildly with one another, grappling so ferociously they tear each other’s clothing off.  Maximus bucks fiercely against her, but Areollas manages to stay right over him the whole time.  They try to find purchase upon one another; their groping, frantic hands roam and slide over each other’s slick, sweaty bodies.

    “He-Woman, when I succeed in throwing you off, I will get behind you and you are mine.”

    “Not going to happen Maximus, if I am going to prevail I need to stay on top of you.  Everyone knows that.”

    There is a polite cough from yonder, Maximus and Areollas freeze.  A group of sedate pilgrims have approached unseen.  They stand at the edge of the bridge, watching the pair.  A red faced Maximus and Areollas spring to their feet and scramble to get their clothes back on.

    An uncomfortable silence ensues, then a pilgrim asks, “Is it OK if we cross?”

    “Usually I would say nay, but I’m kind of busy now, so go ahead and cross.  Off you go.”

    The pilgrims cross the bridge and travel off down the path, leaving Areollas and Maximus alone again.  They share more awkward silence.

    “Where were we?” asks Maximus.

    “We were…” says Areollas motioning toward the ground.  Yet, both are overcome by bashfulness, and the moment is lost.

    “You look very handsome with your helmet off,” says Areollas.

    “Do you think so?  I hate my nose.  It is like the size of a battle axe.  It is very kind of you to say so.  You are an extremely fetching lass yourself.”

    “Now, do you think you’ll let me cross.”

    “Aye, I’ve already let the pilgrims cross.  Twelve years and nobody has ever crossed this bridge under my stead.  I have failed in my charge.  What does it matter now?  You may pass.”

    Areollas, however, does not immediately leave.

    “I had fun,” she says.

    Maximus is thoughtful.  “Aye, as did I.”

    “Can I see you again some time?”

    Maximus, again, is thoughtful.  “Aye, I would like that.  You know where I will be.”

    “Do you know what we should do, instead of fighting?” asks Areollas coyly.

    “Nay, what?”

    “We should play Scrabble some time!”

    Maximus groans.  “I am terrible at Scrabble, but if that is what my lady desires, your wish is my command.”

    “Do you know what else we should do?” says Areollas seductively.

    “Pray tell?”

    “We should get a six pack of ale and some take out.”

    “Better make that a twelve pack.  I mean you are an Amazon and all.”

    “True.”

    “How about morrow's eve?

    “OK, I’ll bring the game and ale, and you order the food for delivery.”

    “Sounds good.”

    “Do you know what we should do afterward?” asks Areollas demurely.

    “What, my lady.”

    “We should fuck like crazy.  Damn Maximus, you got me all stirred up today.”

    “What is this “fuck” you speak of my lady?”

    “Seriously Maximus, you don’t get away from the bridge much do you?

    “Nay, my lady, I do not.”

    “Well, you are in for a treat, my liege.”

    And a treat is exactly what he gets.