by Anny Cook
Deliriously, Bishop decided that Samara was winning their private war. He slipped two fingers in her pussy and another in her ass. Then avidly sucking her clit, he finger-fucked her with enthusiasm mostly driven by the exciting things she was doing to him. But she won their battle when she took his cock into her throat and hummed with pleasure. Stripped of his celebrated control, he came, jetting his cum down her throat while she rapidly swallowed to keep up.
She rested her head on his thigh, lazily licking him clean like a cat while his pounding heart gradually slowed down. As the blood flowed back to his brain, he was disturbed at the extent of his loss of control. Taking a deep breath, he decided the first step was a quick visit to her bathing room. Then, he would return the favor.
“Samara, do you object if we move inside now?”
With a quizzical expression on her face, she peeked at him over her shoulder. “No, of course not.” With surprising agility, she rolled onto the blanket and stood up.
He made it to his feet with less grace, reflecting that age did eventually take a toll. After gathering their belongings and blanket, they went into her dome through the kitchen door. Even as they quickly moved to her bedroom, Bishop was impressed with her home. She pointed out the bathing room before she went out to the kitchen to wash her hands.
She frowned as she dried them on a towel and had a quick drink of water. Surely, Bishop seemed to enjoy himself. And for a while she had, too. But wasn’t there supposed to be more to it? Why would the bonded women have those sly smiles on their faces if there wasn’t more?
“Samara?”
With a light shrug, she went to join him. Perhaps there was something wrong with her. She did enjoy the taste of his kzusha and the way it filled her mouth. If that was all there was, then that was more than she had before.
Bishop waited impatiently in the bedroom, annoyed because he’d not satisfied Samara. When she joined him, he indicated that he wanted her to lie on the bed crosswise. “Do you object if I use a little of this on your pussy?” he asked, holding up the blue jar of hair remover.
“Why?” she asked in puzzlement. “I already remove the hair down there.”
“I want to remove just a little more. I promise that you’ll like it.” He waited for her to make a decision. Finally, she nodded, though he could tell that she really wasn’t sure that she wanted him to mess around with her pussy hair. “If you don’t like it, it will grow back in,” he reassured her.
“All right.”
He moved a chair from under her window to the side of her bed so he could sit down. Then he spread her legs and carefully dabbed the blue cream around her clit and down over her puffy labia, then on down to her anus. When he was through, he replaced the stopper on the jar and carried it back into the bathing room, returning in a moment with a warm washcloth. Meticulously, he wiped away the cream. After running a questing finger over the smooth skin, he decided that one more time with a clean cloth would ensure that no residue of the cream would be left behind.
When he was completely finished, he tossed the cloth over the side of the sink and returned to the bedroom. Samara was exploring her newly denuded skin with curiosity and wonder.
“It feels so smooth.”
Moving the chair out of the way, he knelt next to the bed and asked her to hook her legs over his shoulders. “Now put your hands under your head,” he directed, “and keep them there.” With a little smile she obeyed.
With his thumbs he gently spread her open, noting the lavender flush of arousal. Her clit was sitting up, begging for attention. Her pussy was already slick. He covered her pussy with his mouth and feasted, stopping often to suck on her clit and nibble on the swollen labia that fascinated him for reasons he couldn’t fathom.
At first, Samara was perfectly content to lie back and enjoy his attentions, but soon she found that she had to move. She cradled his head in her hands, holding him where she wanted him, and he immediately stopped. “Put your hands back under your head.”
Sulkily, she obeyed, perceiving that it was going to be harder that she anticipated.
He went back to his quest, nudging her closer and closer to climax, only to back away at the last moment. Only when she was imploring him with threats of retribution did he finally push her over the crest, sucking on her clit while he thrust two fingers in her pussy, gently rubbing the inner wall.
Samara came with a shriek that silenced the birds in the woods outside. Blind and deaf to everything around her, she twisted and heaved her body on the bed as Bishop assiduously labored to prolong her climax.
When at last it was over, she was limp with exhaustion. It had been an eye-opening revelation for her. And she no longer wondered why the bonded women smiled.
“I was right,” Bishop declared with satisfaction. “You’re very noisy.”
* * * * *
The door to Bishop’s room silently swung open. Two pre-teen heads, one covered with narrow black braids, the other covered with red braids, poked through the opening as they quickly swept the room with their curious gazes. Seconds later, they were inside with the door securely shut. Llynx, mischief personified with a temper to match his bright red hair, immediately approached the jumble of boxes and bags piled against the wall.
“Psst!” Panther hissed. Though at twelve he was a year older than Llynx, for some reason or other, Llynx always seemed to be the one that led them into trouble. Panther had a very bad feeling about this invasion of their uncle’s room. A very bad feeling. No good was going to come from this. “What are you doing?”
“Looking. Surely Uncle Bishop must have some interesting stuff here.” Llynx was poking through a small box, examining the things with wild curiosity. He held up a rigid flat clear case that contained a shiny disk. “I wonder what this is?”
“Put it back!”
“Okay.” Llynx dropped it back in the box and moved on to a soft fabric bag. It took him a moment to figure out the fastening mechanism but then he was tugging the little metal tab along a track, fascinated with the way it opened and closed, meshing tiny little teeth into a smooth closure.
“Llynx! Stop that!” Panther’s belly was clenching at the thought of being caught yet again doing something they weren’t supposed to be doing. Why did he continue to let Llynx drag him into these messes? Abruptly, he decided to leave. “I’m going. I will talk to you later.”
“What? Afraid?” Llynx jeered.
“No. But I’m tired of always getting into trouble. I think I’ll go over to the warriors’ field and practice the exercises Arturo assigned us.” With that, he was out the door and trotting down the hall to the kitchen for a snack to take with him. It bothered him that Llynx thought he was a coward. On the other hand, he truly was tired of spending so much time on punishments for stuff that Llynx thought up.
In the kitchen he packed an apple, two oatmeal bars and a small jug of apple tea. Maybe…maybe he would not go to the practice field. There were things to think about and he had put them off long enough. He set off toward Eppie’s cabin until he reached the path to bonding circle three.
Walking through the cool woods was always one of his favorite things. As he shuffled along, kicking small stones and twigs out of the way, he pondered about his problem with Llynx. As much as he loved his brother, it was time for him to find his own way. Panther spied a small bug crawling across the path and dropped down in the dust to watch it struggle to drag a dead bug much larger than itself to the other side of the path.
After a while, he stood back up, shook the dust from his sharda and resumed his walk to the bonding circle. Gradually, he realized he could hear the low murmur of people talking. He stopped and slowly turned around, trying to pinpoint where the voices were coming from. Then he moved cautiously through the woods toward the voices. He stopped and crouched behind a laurel bush when he reached the edge of a small yard. Peeking through the bush’s leaves, he saw Samara and Uncle Bishop and his eyes widened in amazement when he saw what Samara was doing to hi
s uncle. They were both naked. Bishop was stretched out on a blanket on the ground and Samara was kneeling over him with his kzusha in her mouth.
Panther’s mouth dropped open as she sucked on Bishop’s kzusha with apparent enjoyment. Such an idea had never occurred to him. His mouth snapped shut when he witnessed Bishop tilt his head up and lick Samara between her legs. Ewwww, gross!
Backing away as quietly as possible, he ran back through the woods until he reached the bonding circle where he raced around the huge stone sentinels that lined the circle. He threw himself down on the grassy lawn by the small pool, his heart pounding as he thought about what he’d seen. Was that what bonded people did? He squeezed his eyes shut. How could that be sanitary?
Suddenly he remembered something one of the older boys had muttered at practice the week before and his eyes shot wide open as he seriously pondered the possibilities. Who could he ask? He slowly considered and rejected everyone in the family until he reached his mother. Of all the people he knew, she was the one he trusted without fail.
When she and his father came back from the bonding cottage, he would ask her about what he’d seen. Until then, he would keep his ears open. In the meantime, he would think about what to do about Llynx while he ate his lunch. He had much to decide.
At twelve years, he was eligible to compete in the warriors’ games at the Midsummer Gathering. He knew he wasn’t as good as Falcon but perhaps Falcon would practice with him. Panther didn’t want to embarrass the Llewellyn family by failing ignominiously. He only had three days until the Midsummer Gathering to get ready. With a tiny shrug, he reached out to Falcon. No time like the present.
Falcon?
What, Panther?
I—I want to participate in the warriors’ games this summer. Panther fired it all at Falcon in a rush.
And?
I need someone to practice with me. Please, do you have time?
Falcon didn’t answer for a moment. Panther could almost feel him weighing just how serious Panther was and how committed. Sixth hour before breakfast. I’ll meet you tomorrow morning at the practice field.
Panther swallowed. Just like his oldest brother, Tyger, Panther hated getting up early. But he was determined not to fail this first test. I will be there.
Then we will see what we can do.
Thank you, Falcon.
Falcon snorted. Don’t thank me until after you see what I’m going to do to you! He broke their connection without another word.
While he munched on his apple, Panther decided that he was a complete—what was that word Dancer used?—wuss. Yes, that was it. Llynx could only lead him around if he allowed him to. Why, Panther wondered, did he always do what Llynx wanted to do? Why didn’t they ever do what he wanted to do?
He looked into the pool of water, saw his face and was abruptly disgusted with his lack of backbone. No wonder everyone doubted him. He had been acting like a child, playing pranks, misbehaving because he was too lazy to say no. He sat up and hurled his apple core into the woods as far as he could throw it.
It was nearly time for him to choose an apprenticeship and he had no idea what he wanted to be. Panic assailed him briefly as he wondered if he was one of those boys who would have to have someone choose for him. No, please no. What did he want to do?
He dug one of the oatmeal bars from his bag and nibbled at it while he considered. At best he was a mediocre warrior, even in his own age group. He hated hunting, wasn’t much of a cook, would never be a weaver or healer and didn’t care for writing. So what did he like to do?
A faint idea niggled at the back of his brain as he studied the enormous stone sentinels that guarded the bonding circle. How did they get there? How did the builders haul them in place? Who chiseled the symbols into the stones and planned their placement? His questions crystallized into a firm goal. He would learn to build.
Suddenly he sat up with new purpose. It was not too early to talk with Stefan Cowal, the builder. If Stefan was willing to accept him as an apprentice, even if he had to wait another year, he would have something to work for. He snagged his bag in trembling fingers. Please, please let Stefan be willing!
Chapter Eight
Panther and Llynx break the rules
Two days later, Bishop stood in the doorway of the new room where Traveller slept and marveled at the way he had adjusted to certain of the valley mores. He was shocked at how quickly he’d become comfortable wearing the sissy skirt. With pursed lips, he considered the one he had on, a wild shade of burnt orange. He couldn’t conceive what plant dye yielded the eye-watering color. There was no telling what color his nephews would gift him with tomorrow. He would miss them when he went home.
Oh, he still planned to find a way to leave before he turned blue and was stuck in the valley forever. Samara was a beautiful, sexy woman. He enjoyed their playtimes though he hadn’t actually stuck his cock in her pussy. Somehow, she always ended up sucking his cock until he was empty.
He had to admit that he found his nieces and nephews a charming, if overwhelming bunch. Some of them puzzled him more than others, but they were actually well behaved kids and that was somewhat of a novelty for him. His nieces and nephews out-valley were rude and obnoxious. But none of those considerations would prevent him from leaving when he found the way.
With narrowed eyes he studied Llyon as he smoothly brushed his fingers down Trav’s right arm. The grimace of pain on Trav’s face melted away under Llyon’s incredibly gentle touch. Bishop had no idea what Llyon was doing or how he was healing Trav but clearly, he was doing something. Even Bishop had to acknowledge that Trav seemed to be improving a little more every day.
Restlessly, Bishop turned and walked down the dimly lit hall that led to the family patio. From there, a well-trodden path wound down to Wrenna’s pottery shop. He had questions to ask about the strange relationship that Wrenna supposedly had with Trav. If anyone had the answers, surely she would be the one.
As he started down the path to the spacious pottery dome that faced the river, he met Wolfe striding up the hill. Clearly, he had a specific destination in mind so Bishop didn’t try to detain him. “Is Wrenna down at her shop?”
“She is. Just finishing up her day’s work so that she can be with Trav.”
Bishop could feel the impatience with the small interruption flowing from Wolfe in waves so he moved down the path, releasing Wolfe to be on his way. “Thank you, Wolfe!”
When he reached the dome, Wrenna was cleaning the thick yellow clay from her fingers. “Hello, Uncle. I was going up to the kitchen for a cup of tea”
Bishop wandered over to the doorway and studied the mass confusion across the river. He had deliberately kept away from the busy open practice field, determined not to get involved in the strange activities. “What exactly is going on?”
“Tomorrow begins the Midsummer Gathering. It combines the annual public council meeting with a trader’s exchange. Disputes between villages can be worked out. Warriors who have made their final vows this past year are recognized in a public ceremony. The men compete in weapons tournaments. The women bring their best sweet dishes for Mama to judge. The younglings usually have races and a recitation contest.” She glanced at him curiously. “Surely you have something similar out-valley?”
“I suppose the closest thing would be a county fair,” he replied with a frown. “Though even the smallest county fair would be much larger than this.”
“There are so many people where you come from?”
He smiled and shook his head. “If every person in the valley was in one place, they wouldn’t make a small town out-valley. Lost Market could be set down in the center of most towns and not even be noticed.”
Her brows wrinkled in thought. “Traveller will find it hard to live here? Will he miss the people and places, do you think?”
“Nah,” Bishop denied firmly. “I miss those things—especially the women—but Traveller was like Dancer—looking for a place to get away. Speaking of Dancer, whe
re is he? He came to see Trav the day we came to the valley and I haven’t seen him since.”
She slid him a sideways glance. “Dancer and Eppie are in seclusion. She’s in schalzina so they will stay at Stonehollow until after their burda.”
“Schalzina is something to do with sex?” he speculated.
“Yes.”
“Then I’ll ask Dai for an explanation. He’s the only one who seems to be around.”
“I’m sure that Llyon or Wolfe would be happy to explain things. Even Tyger could answer some of your questions.”
“I notice that you didn’t mention your father,” Bishop observed wryly. He felt stupid and irritable talking to youngsters half his age about sex.
“Mama began schalzina, so Papa probably won’t be available. They’ll go back to their bonding cottage, Elyria, right after the Gathering,” Wrenna replied with casual unconcern. “In any case, Papa’s keeping a close eye on her because of the babies.”
“Babies?”
“They’re pregnant again. With twins. Again.” She grinned at Bishop’s expression of horror. “Mama was really surprised since she thought that Cougar and Gazelle would be the last ones.”
“How can she be pregnant?” he demanded.
“The usual way?” Wrenna said calmly. “The out-valley can’t be that different, surely?”
His face turned ruddy with embarrassment and he cleared his throat. “Never mind. I opened my mouth without thinking.” He shook his head. “That wasn’t what I came to talk to you about anyway.”
“Certainly. Let us go up to the kitchen and have some tea. Then you can tell me what is on your mind.” She dried her hands on a small rough cloth.
“All right.” Bishop waited while she closed the door and then they walked up the steep path silently, each engaged in their thoughts until they reached the back door.
Wrenna smiled suddenly as though she had shaken off some worry. “I haven’t seen you around very much. How have you been occupying your time?”
