Comanche Heat

by Robin Gideon

  The safety and security of his tribe meant everything to Broken Blade. That emotion had been foremost in his great-grandfather's heart when he took a small band of followers and separated from the Comanches of Texas, moving northward with a Jesuit priest into more moderate climates. The safety and security of the Northern Comanche was the driving force behind the frequent trading done between the tribe and the white man. Quite literally for generations, in an effort to ensure the safety and survival of the Northern Comanche, the tribe was forced to deal directly with its most pressing and persistent enemy—the white man.

  These thoughts plagued Blade's tranquility as he sat on verdant land that he and his tribe owned.

  But there was something else that haunted his peace of mind. That something else was pale-skinned and curvaceous, and her golden blonde hair reflected the sunlight with the luminescence of the sun itself. Her smile had the ability to go through his eyes and hit him straight in the heart. The sound of her laughter was the purest form of music that he'd ever heard. Her kisses were the very essence of passion's promise.

  And Blade was in love with her.

  He had just now fully realized it, and the awareness horrified him.

  Damn.

  Damn it all to the Hell that the Jesuits priests always warned about.

  Blade hadn't counted on falling in love. He had too much to do for him to allow himself to fall in love. There were too many people who counted on him. He had too much responsibility for him to take on the additional burden of love.

  He closed his eyes and sought the advice of the spirits. Perhaps they had answers, for he was a man sorely in need of them.

  He had hoped for a vision to give him answers, but he didn't get one. Instead, a small voice whispered inside his mind ... telling him that Samantha had to leave. He had to return her to the white man's world. To do otherwise was to jeopardize the tribe. He had responsibilities that were bigger than himself, more important than his own wants and wishes. He had to remember his responsibility for nearly a thousand men, women, and children.

  So Samantha had to go back to her world once Dog and his band were dealt with. When the posse headed home, she would go with them, back to the life she knew. She would stay in her world, and he had to stay in his.

  It was as simple as that.

  * * * *

  Blade made a point of not returning to camp until after sundown. As he approached his tepee, he could hear feminine laughter from inside. He smiled. Apparently the animosity between Samantha and Moon had been short-lived, a fact for which he was grateful. He didn't need any more confrontations in his life.

  In the morning, with any luck at all, Samantha would oversleep and he'd be able to convince Sheriff Burns she was ill and that they'd have to go after Dog and his band of cutthroats without her. After Dog was dealt with, Blade could return her to her white world so that he could concentrate on his personal duties to the Northern Comanche.

  He stepped through the entrance and found Moon and Samantha sitting with their legs folded beneath them, facing each other as they played the hand-game of rochambeau. When Blade had played the game during his university days—the loser invariably having to buy the next round of drinks—he discovered in the white man's world it was called Paper-Rock-Scissors.

  Both women looked up at him, a beaming smile coming from each.

  "I see that you two have gotten over your differences,” Blade said a bit cautiously.

  "I've had a great day with Moon. We discovered we have much in common,” Samantha said.

  For a moment, Blade took in the feminine beauty on display before him. Neither Moon nor Samantha were making any effort at trying to be sexy, and perhaps that was the reason why their physical beauty struck him so powerfully.

  Seated with their legs folded caused their doeskin dresses to split at the hip, giving him a view of beautiful and feminine legs, one set being dark and slender, the other pale and more shapely. And though Moon's bosom was such that she did not have much skin on display, Samantha's neckline, though not low-cut by any means, still showed a mouthwatering amount of creamy pale femininity he found impossible to resist. Samantha's hair had been brushed, parted down the center, and put into two braids—the same hair style all the squaws of the Northern Comanche wore.

  "Have you eaten?” Samantha asked. “We were expecting you hours ago."

  "No, I haven't."

  Blade hadn't planned on being gone as long, either. He had completely missed the communal evening meal. He had needed the additional time to come to terms with his personal responsibilities to the tribe and the unpleasant actions he had to take to fulfill those responsibilities.

  "Moon and I saved a bowl for you. It's not hot any more, but it's still a little warm.” Samantha unfolded a buffalo hide and revealed a small pottery bowl with a lid. “Sit down over there and we'll help you."

  Blade's brow furrowed. Samantha wasn't really a difficult woman to be with, but there had to be some reason for her to be this accommodating. And there was an amused gleam in Moon's eyes that Blade couldn't account for, a devilish twinkle he hadn't seen since before her husband's murder.

  He sat cross-legged on the buffalo hides that constituted his bed. Samantha and Moon quickly sat down with him, one at each knee.

  "It's awfully good,” Samantha said, handing Blade the bowl. “I had two bowls myself."

  Blade took a wooden spoon from Moon and tried the stew. It was, as promised, delicious. He knew it would be. What he didn't know was what the women had planned during his absence, though he sensed they were up to something.

  "You should get comfortable.” Samantha tugged free the leather thong that held on one of Blade's moccasins.

  "Yes, you should be comfortable,” Moon added as she removed his other moccasin. This left him wearing only his buckskin breechclout.

  "You like the stew?” Samantha asked solicitously. “Eat. It'll make you strong and give you stamina."

  Looking straight into her blue eyes, he asked, “What's going on in that clever and devious mind of yours?"

  She took the bowl and spoon from him. “Let me help you,” she said, her voice now a sultry purr. She dipped the spoon into the stew and brought it to his mouth. “Open up."

  "I can feed myself,” Blade replied, but that didn't stop him from opening his mouth. She spoon-fed him, and as he chewed the sumptuous buffalo meat in the gravy-like stew juices, he became aware of Moon's small hands upon his left thigh. Samantha had another spoonful at his mouth. “Wait, I—"

  She silenced him with a mouthful of stew as small fingertips, touching as delicately as a butterfly's feet upon landing, walked up his naked thigh. Before those slender brown fingers reached the top of his leg, there was a distinct tightening in his breechclout, and he had curiously cleared his throat somewhat nervously three times in the previous thirty seconds.

  "Do I want to know what you women have been talking about in my absence?” Blade asked, his cheek puffed out because Samantha continued to ladle the stew into his mouth and seemed hell-bent on seeing to it that he ate every last morsel in the bowl.

  "I've been talking with Moon, and she explained some of the ... um ... customs of the Northern Comanche that are ... well, let's just say that they're different from what I'm accustomed to.” When she looked Moon, there was an affectionate warmth in her eyes that hadn't been there before. She reached out and casually eased Moon's braided hair over her shoulder, and Blade felt a rush of excitement come to life in his veins at the innocent contact between the women.

  "Moon's had a very difficult time of it since the death of her husband.” Samantha placed her left hand lightly onto Moon's smooth, naked thigh, and Blade's erection sprang to life swiftly, vibrantly. She leaned forward and kissed him briefly and lightly on the lips, then sat back. “Moon, perhaps you could help Blade get more comfortable. He seems ... um ... to have outgrown his clothing."

  With a tug on the braided cord holding his breechclout secure, Moon released the knot an
d then pulled the entire front of the buckskin garment away. His cock, not yet fully erect, bobbed when freed, coming to rest warm and heavy against his thigh.

  "Blade, pay attention,” Samantha said a bit scoldingly, holding yet another spoonful of stew close to his face. “You've only got a little bit left in the bowl, and you need to eat so that plenty of strength."

  "I can believe that,” Blade replied with a sardonic grin, turning his face toward Samantha.

  He was taking the stew from the spoon when Moon's lips, soft and wet and warm, surrounded the head of his cock. In that instant, he responded to her oral caress with jaw-stretching results. He looked at Samantha and saw her watching Moon as she pleasured him. Jealousy and pain flared in her eyes, flaming like a sulfur match head.

  Instantly, he worried that he was about to have one hellacious fight on his hands, but then Samantha closed her eyes and gave her head and shoulders a little shake as though to physically release disturbing emotions. When she opened her eyes again and looked into his, the emerald green fire that so enraptured the warrior was blazing magnificently once again.

  Blade started to look down at Moon, but Samantha put her hand under his chin and raised his face. “So, what did you do when you rode out of camp today?"

  The sensation of butter-soft lips traveling back and forth over the crown and much of the shaft of his erection was creating a spike of lust that demanded all his concentration, but Samantha seemed unwilling to allow him do precisely that. With some difficulty, he swallowed the last of the stew.

  "Well?” she prodded, setting the bowl and spoon aside. “You must have done something. You were gone for hours."

  Blade set his hand lightly atop Moon's slowly nodding head, neither hindering nor guiding her movements. The texture of her ebony hair against his palm was that of velvet. The soft moans that emanated from the girl were a carnal symphony that added significantly to the dimensions of his erection.

  "Kiss me,” Samantha said, placing both hands on his face to position him properly and hold him steady.

  It was a hungry, demanding kiss, a bold and declarative statement of her burgeoning passion. In a flash, Blade remembered how with her first kisses she had been timid and uncertain. Now she was a woman in charge, passionately determined to give and receive all the pleasure the human body was capable of.

  Thirty seconds later, Samantha pushed Blade away, grabbed her doeskin dress, tugged it over her head, and then cast the garment disdainfully aside.

  "Kiss me,” she demanded again. Only this time she lifted her left breast as she hooked her hand behind Blade's neck and guided him to her pink nipple. When his lips surrounded the crest of her breast and his tongue scraped the erect nipple, she rolled her head back on her shoulders and purred. “Yes!"

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  Chapter Seven

  Samantha held Blade tightly to her breast, her eyes open but hazy with lust as she stared at the gorgeous man who was busily sucking on her nipple.

  After several seconds, she turned her gaze to Moon, whose head was continuing to bob up and down, taking much of his exquisite erection into her mouth and throat. Jagged-edged jealousy and heartfelt pain surged through Samantha, and for several agonizing seconds she was entirely convinced that she'd made a the biggest mistake of her life in thinking she could share Blade with another woman. The emotions she had for him, though assuredly carnal, included something more inclined toward love than mere lust—and love, as she was beginning to understand, wasn't very good at sharing. At least not when it came to sharing Blade.

  "I want some of that."

  Samantha heard herself say the words, though she hadn't consciously thought them. And unless she was completely mistaken, there was a distinct cattiness to her tone she surely wouldn't have approved of ahead of time. She clenched her teeth, fighting against emotions green and uncharitable, as she watched Moon nibble down the shaft of Blade's thick cock, the lovely young widow's eyes closed as she pleasured with practiced ease.

  It was a novel experience for Samantha. Though she had performed fellatio previously, she had never wanted to take an erection into her mouth. But then, everything about her emotions in conjunction with the warrior named Broken Blade were entirely new. He inspired an adventurous spirit, especially when it came to matters of a carnal nature.

  Easing her breast out of Blade's mouth, Samantha bent to flick her tongue across his nipple. She heard his sharp intake of air and knew then that his nipples were every bit as sensitive as her own. With this in mind, Samantha kissed across the hard-muscled surface of his naked chest and sucked on his other nipple. And when she heard his low, throaty moan of approval, her labia swelled and creamed in anticipation of being forced to stretch to accommodate his flaring cock.

  Moon seemed not to have heard her since she continued to feast upon Blade's extravagant erection—a fact which irked Samantha to the quick. Sliding down his powerful body, she put a hand on Moon's shoulder and, with unladylike determination, simply pushed the slender widow with so much force that she tumbled backward.

  "Sorry,” Samantha said with a noticeable lack of sincerity in her tone. “It's my turn now."

  She straddled Blade's left leg, positioned herself over the arousal that stood up tall and proud, and blew her breath lightly upon the flaring crown. The taut knob flexed, and the skin stretched even more tightly over the swollen inner core.

  An opaque drop of fluid formed at the slit, and Samantha purred kittenishly and licked off the salty droplet. The flavor was not one that Samantha particularly appreciated, but with nascent jealousy continuing to flow more heatedly through her veins with each passing second, she wouldn't dream of putting her negative thoughts into words. She pushed her lips over the massive crown, then began nibbling down the shaft, using only her lips and tongue, careful to sheath her teeth from touching the sensitive flesh.

  Samantha took Blade to the back of her mouth. She knew she wasn't taking him as deeply as Moon had, and this fact infuriated her. But when she tried to take his unyielding flesh into her throat—as Moon must surely have done, at least to some extent—her body protested and she was forced to lift her head quickly as she coughed and sputtered.

  "Let me,” Moon said, almost lunging for the suddenly available erection.

  Samantha had Blade back in her mouth in an instant, rather churlishly depriving Moon of the opportunity to prove she was better at giving fellatio. She chewed lightly with her lips on the thick, somewhat oval-shaped shaft as she used her tongue against the underside of the crown. Blade groaned softly of his approval, and she answered him with a moan that was perhaps slightly louder than warranted.

  As she descended upon him, the heavy weight of her breasts slid against a hard thigh, thick with muscle from having lived a life on horseback. She gave her shoulders a little shake, slapping her breasts against his leg, and he responded with a sigh of pleasure.

  Tilting her head back with her lips still encircling his flesh, Samantha looked up into his dark eyes. She saw the strain of sexual tension in his features, and the expression gave her sudden confidence, and a certain sense of charitable generosity returned.

  She released Blade with a wet slurping sound, looked up at the man who had taught her so much, and saucily declared, “What do you think of me now?"

  Samantha's blunt, saucy question caused Blade's jaw to drop. She, vastly amused at her own burgeoning sexual confidence, made a lewd spectacle of licking the head of Blade's arousal for several seconds before she said, “Moon has been explaining some of the differences between our cultures. She's been lonely. It's seems to me that we might be of some assistance to her."

  Samantha wasn't in the least bit annoyed when Blade rather brutishly grabbed her by the hair and hauled her up so that he could give her a fierce kiss. It was when he was at his most barbaric and his least civilized that Samantha's body reacted instinctively and spontaneously. The warrior in him was what most excited Samantha, making her juices flow freely to the ti
ngling lips of her pussy.

  With her hair still wrapped around his fist, Blade ended the kiss. He stared intently into her eyes, and for a moment, she wondered if she had done something wrong. The sounds of a sensual, wet fellatio being passionately given drifted up to Samantha's ears, letting her know that Moon had taken advantage of the opportunity presented her. Together, Samantha and Blade looked down and watched as Moon sucked with passion.

  Samantha kissed him one last time, then looked into Blade's eyes and gave the merest of approving nods. Blade removed Moon's doeskin dress, then stretched her out onto the buffalo hides. Looking at Moon, Samantha again felt a twinge of jealousy and uncertainty. Dusky-skinned, extremely petite, Moon's body was almost the antithesis of hers. When he was perched over Moon, bending low to kiss her left nipple, she appeared even smaller in contrast to the powerfully-built Great Plains warrior.

  Blade flicked his tongue over Moon's blunt, erect, chocolate-brown nipple, and Samantha squeezed her eyes tightly shut against the pain and turned her head away, fighting tears that wanted to be shed. Seconds passed. A battle raged inside her. She was hooked on the horns of a dilemma, part of her wanting to be generous to Moon, and part of her wanting to be exclusive to Blade.

  Samantha opened her eyes just as he eased his middle finger into Moon's damp cleft, smiling when the young widow moaned with rapidly escalating passion before he withdrew the glistening finger altogether.

  "Taste her,” he commanded, raising his hand to Samantha's mouth.

  Samantha resisted, having no particular desire to taste Moon's passionate nectar. But as was so often the case, his willpower and Samantha's sensual curiosity were her undoing. She parted her lips and he eased his finger into her mouth. She could taste the young widow's honey as he eased the finger back and forth between her lips, pantomiming fellatio. Samantha moaned softly, letting him know she was willing to do whatever he asked.