fredbassett | Fic, Turn and Turn About, Helen, Ryan, 18

Title : Turn and Turn About
Author : fredbassett
Fandom : Primeval
Rating : 18
Characters : Helen, Ryan
Disclaimer : Not mine, no money made, don’t sue.
Spoilers : None
Word Count : 2,128
Summary : Helen and Ryan are forced to spend time together.
A/N : Written for

primeval_denial Challenge Team Fest. With thanks to

lukadreaming for the beta.

“I caught it, you cook it.”

A large fish was dropped onto the floor of the cave in front of him.

It stared up at him with an expression on its face that reminded Ryan of one of his junior school teachers, a woman who had worn a disapproving look all the time he’d known her. But after being on the receiving end of a pointed stick wielded with ruthless efficiency by Helen Cutter, the fish probably had an excuse for looking like that. Mind you, with some of the kids she’d had to deal with, Miss Carter could probably be excused, as well.

Helen had gutted her catch down by the river to avoid leaving a smelly pile of innards lying around that might attract predators to their refuge, so all Ryan had to do was wrap the fish in some long wide leaves that he’d gathered earlier in the day and set it beside the fire on a hot, flat stone to cook. The leaves tasted faintly of lemon, so whilst his culinary skills might not be up to Delia Smith’s standards, he was confident that the meal would be edible.

In the four days he’d been stuck in the past with Helen, they’d taken it in turns to catch food and a routine had grown up whereby one of them would go hunting, while the other stayed behind to keep a fire burning in the mouth of the cave. He had absolutely no idea whether Helen would leave him behind at the first possible opportunity and had quickly decided there was no point in letting that concern him, but so far she had shown no signs of playing him false.

According to Helen, they were in the Cretaceous; news that hadn’t exactly filled Ryan with delight. He’d picked up enough information from Cutter and co in his time riding shotgun for the science team to know that it was a period filled with a remarkable collection of things with big teeth, equally big claws and an even bigger appetite. He had his rifle and handgun, but he’d taken the decision, very shortly after the anomaly had closed trapping him in the past with the woman he’d been sent to capture, to conserve his supply of ammunition for real emergencies. So far he hadn’t fired a single shot, although his close encounter the previous day with something she’d referred to as a Dromaeosaurus had brought him very close to breaking his self-imposed rule, much to Helen’s amusement.

Ryan leaned back against the wall of the cave and closed his eyes. He was attuned to the sounds of the forest and was confident he would hear the noise of any approaching wildlife. In the distance, a low growl of thunder heralded the approach of one of the rainstorms that he’d come to associate with life in the Cretaceous.

“I think I’ll take a shower before dinner,” Helen commented.

He opened his eyes and looked out as, directly on cue, the leaden clouds started to shed their load. Large fat raindrops exploded like water-filled balloons on the thick foliage around the mouth of the cave and in a matter of moments had battered aside the leaves to soak into the ground.

Helen stood up, stretched and then started to slowly unfasten the buttons on her faded green shirt. Ryan leaned forward and threw some more wood on the fire.

“I’m not shy, Captain,” Helen commented, casting him an arch look as she let her shirt fall to the ground and reached behind her back to unclip her bra.

He looked up and met her eyes. “I know.”

Helen Cutter was more at ease with her own body than anyone – male or female – that Ryan had even known. If she needed to obey a call of nature, she had no compunction about simply squatting down and doing what had to be done, not even seeking the privacy of one of the many trees or ferns that adorned the landscape. Ryan had spent most of his adult life around soldiers and was certainly not squeamish when it came to bodily functions, his own or anyone else’s – a week spent living rough in the Brecon Beacons early in his army career had soon cured him of anything like that – but Helen Cutter was in a league of her own when it came to such matters.

It had almost become a game between them and one that Ryan was determined not to lose. If that meant carrying on a conversation with Helen bloody Cutter while having a crap, then fine, that’s what he’d do. And if it meant not turning away while she stripped, then that was equally fine. Although Ryan was no connoisseur of the female form, he had to admit that Helen was a good-looking woman. She moved with feline grace, not an ounce of spare fat on her lean, tanned body. Her breasts were full but firm and had clearly spent quite some time outside the confines of her bra as although the V at the front of her shirt was a darker tan, the rest of her torso was relatively even in colour, tanned to a warm biscuit brown.

Helen bent down, letting her breasts swing freely, and swiftly undid the laces on her boots, drawing them and her thick socks off her long, slender feet. After unfastening her leather belt, she slid her trousers down over trim hips and stepped out of them, leaving behind a pair of plain black bikini pants. With a challenging stare, she hooked her thumbs into the thin cotton and pushed them down as well, exposing the dark triangle of her pubic hair.

Ryan returned his attention to his cooking, picked up two sticks and turned the leaf-wrapped parcels of fish over, then pushed the stone slightly closer to the fire so that it rested on the hot embers. The rain was now falling heavily. Helen stepped outside the confines of the cave, threw her head back and ran her fingers through her hair, teasing the tangles out of it at the same time as contriving to display her body to the best possible effect.

“You should join me, Ryan, the water’s lovely.”

Ryan knew perfectly well that if he made an excuse, he’d lose the game and with it, any respect he’d managed to gain from her, so he stood up and, with the efficiency instilled in him by the army, stripped, folded his clothed neatly, placed them on a rock next to his weapons and then stepped out to join her in the rain. The water splattered on his skin, running down his body in rivulets, carrying away the sweat of another hot, humid day. He had to admit that it was refreshing and that he would be glad to be rid of the smell of his own armpits.

Helen stared appraisingly at his body. Ryan knew he had nothing to be ashamed of in that regard. His years in the army had left his body toned and hard, scarred in places from bullets, knives and even a pointed stick. She ran her eyes over him like a trainer eying a prize-winning race horse, or, more likely, a stallion at stud. Her eyes lingered on his cock and balls and her tongue darted out to lick the raindrops off her lips. He wondered if she was disappointed that his body wasn’t reacting to her nakedness. The look on her face held open invitation and she ran her hands over her body, Helen’s nipples hardening in response to being grazed by her long fingers.

Ryan finished his wash and then moved to a boulder near the fire to dry off. A few minutes later, Helen ended a display that would have gone down well in a strip club and returned to her accustomed place opposite him, sitting on a large, flat stone and leaning against the wall of the cave. She brushed the droplets of water off her tanned skin, using it as an opportunity to bring her nipples back to hardness. To demonstrate that her wiles were still having no effect, Ryan stood up so that she could see the evidence of his lack of reaction for herself and pulled on his underwear, black combat trousers, socks and boots, then went back to checking on the fish.

At the end of round one Ryan was moderately pleased to have achieved a score draw, but from the amused look on Helen’s face, she certainly wasn’t prepared to concede any victory to him. After quite blatantly teasing her nipples, she ran one hand down over the taut plane of her stomach and brought it to rest between her legs.

It looked very much like the bell had just been rung for the beginning of round two.

Ryan followed Helen’s example and made himself comfortable, settling in to watch what she was going to do next. He presumed that a woman who had no qualms about taking a taking a crap in public would have no problem whatsoever in masturbating equally publicly. Helen circled her clit slowing and deliberately, pausing every now and gain to dip her fingers into her own body to gather moisture to lubricate her movements. From the teasing smile on her face it was plain that she was enjoying herself. The invitation in her eyes was all too obvious. Ryan stretched his legs out in front of him, making it equally obvious that she was having no effect whatsoever on him.

With a combative glint in her eyes, she quickened her movements, spreading her thighs and starting to fuck herself hard on her fingers. The rise and fall of her breasts was deepening and her pupils had blown so wide that her eyes appeared almost black in the shadows of the cave mouth. No doubt fuelled by her irritation, Helen thrust her fingers into her body and rubbed the heel of her hand against her clit. A moment later, Ryan watched as she reached orgasm, her head tilted back to display the long line of her throat as she arched her back and gasped. A few moments later, in a final flourish that earned her several points for artistic merit, Helen languorously raised her hand to her mouth and licked her fingers clean.

When her eyes refocused on him, Ryan slowly slid the zip of his trousers down and drew out his obviously uninterested cock. If looks could kill, Ryan knew he would have ended up in the same state as the fish he was cooking. He didn’t particularly feel like having a wank, but the game was still on and Ryan had no intention of losing. He worked himself to hardness with military efficiency, sliding his foreskin over the sensitive head of his cock and rubbing at the taut ridge of skin on the underside in the way that had always stood him in good stead during the inevitable jerking-off competitions that bored soldiers had a habit of indulging in.

With his eyes still locked on Helen’s, Ryan slid his hand up and down his cock, gathering the moisture that had quickly started to bead at the tip and using it to slick his palm. Her expression had frozen into a look of irritation and he was very tempted to pay homage to his grandmother by pointing out that if the wind changed her face would stick like that.

The smell of roasting fish wafted up to his nostrils, making Ryan’s mouth water in a way that all Helen’s displays had failed to induce. With a slight smile on his face that he hoped went some way to matching Helen’s own patented brand of inscrutability, Ryan tugged himself to a rapid but satisfactory climax, sending a spurt of come up onto his stomach. As he milked the last few drops from his cock, Ryan allowed his smile to broaden when, following Helen’s example, he trailed his fingers through the mess on his stomach and proceeded to clean them by the same method she had used.

“Can’t afford to waste good protein,” he remarked.

Helen’s mouth had taken on a slightly petulant pout. “So what does your girlfriend have to do to engage your interest, Captain?”

In response to her question, Ryan simply grinned, tucked his softening cock away and pulled up the zip of his trousers.

It was nice to know that Helen Cutter wasn’t quite as all-seeing as she liked to make out. It had apparently not occurred to her that she wasn’t the only person in that cave with an interest in men.

“Dinner’s ready,” he announced. “I cooked, so it’s your turn to clear up afterwards.”

The look she gave him would have curdled milk if they’d had any.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

From:

nietie.livejournal.com

Guh! Nice and hot game.

*sniggers at the fact that Helen doesn't realise she's not the only one in that cave with an interest in men*

From:

Fic, Turn and Turn About, Helen, Ryan, 18

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