Note: This story was dynamically reformatted for online reading convenience. This is adult material. If you're under the age of consent, leave. If you're afraid reading poorly-written descriptions of sexual behavior might scar your mind, don't blame me. I'm not paying your shrink bills. You're here because you want to be. Do not republish this material without my permission. I Married an Amazon by Enkidu Chapter 4 (MF, oral, exhib) "Ooooohhhhhhh... ugh" My groaning registered on my hearing before I even realized I was emitting it. I sneezed. My skin felt clammy. The thin traveling blanket I was huddled under wasn't doing much to keep out the morning chill and the ground was still a bit damp. That, however, wasn't the source of my greatest discomfort. Every muscle from my lower back down to my toes was an angry little knot of pain grinding in enmity against the others. I had exercised as much in the previous day as I normally would in a month, and that's counting stretching my hand for another can of soda from the minifridge while I played online shooter games. If I didn't have a naturally rapid metabolism I probably would've ballooned into the fat nerd stereotype. Then maybe some insane little bitch wouldn't have found me attractive, knocked me over the head to rape me repeatedly. Well, twice. Well, fine, that second time she was just freaking hot as hell. And the first time, if I were honest with myself, I'd certainly been intrigued by the situation despite all the fear and confusion. My rage wavered for a few minutes along of sine-wave peaking in the injustice perpetrated upon me, decreasing in favor of other concerns. Mainly, I couldn't move. Even my arms hurt, which made no sense until I remembered having to hang by the women's shoulders while they lugged me around like a sack of potatoes. There's that rage again. "Sun's been flying for three spans, lazy." An increasingly familiar voice sounded over my shoulder. I twisted slightly to look, then stiffened in agony as several muscles in my thighs and back erupted in pain. I finally managed to prop myself on one elbow. We were at the edge of a clearing sloping gently downhill to the south. Brilliant sunlight shone a few steps away past the shade of the gigantic old growth trees we'd slept under. Idyllic, aside from other circumstances, the most pertinent of which circumstances was sitting on a fallen log working something wide and flexible with her knife. Sitalit's hair, recently washed, was drooping in heavy wet locks over her face. She flipped it back lazily and eyed me slantwise. "We're all tired. But you, your muscles are soft, like you never used them." "Well I'm ssoooooo freakin' sorry" I drawled sardonically. My voice was hoarse. There was a pressure in my lungs. She raised her cute dainty eyebrows at first, then allowed the corners of her mouth to twist in a faint smile. "Taxtawa says Jin was the same, when she claimed him. He turned out alright." "Who's Jin?" "Taxtawa's man." "No, I got that, I mean... y'know what, never mind." We sat in silence for a bit while I tried with some limited success to extend my limbs from the foetal position in which I'd awoken. Sitalit's lovely green eyes flitted thoughtfully from her work to me. Finally, with a petulant little-girl look, she cleared her throat. "It wouldn't have been good for you, you know. If the Snakes got you. You're lucky I was the one that claimed you." "Oh, really?" I retorted mockingly, feeling very much the opposite of lucky at the moment. "Yes!" The teenager insisted, stomping her leather-clad heel into the dirt, jutting her chin at me and pouting angrily. "You do your duty by me and I'll always treat you well. Always. Semenan's mean... and some of the others are worse. Like Dangba, she's always angry. She was going for Carina's flank last night. That's a bad wound. And you were wrong. There was danger. Still is some. Until a man's properly claimed as husband, the fights over him can get... scary." She trailed off. She let me think this all over for a while. Voices drifted up from downhill, along with the smell of fire and meat. I was starving. And I needed a piss. Flipping the blanket off I began to massage some life into my muscles. I sneezed again and noticed something. "Sitalit... my feet are bare. Why are my feet bare?" "Took you long enough to figure it out" she giggled. "Mother says it's not good to walk with one foot higher than the other and she's right. I'm making you new shoes for walking home. Your foot is so soft it got scratched up yesterday. You need winter shoes even in the summer." She proudly held up the piece of hairy leather she'd been fiddling with, which was beginning to look vaguely moccasin-shaped. I sneezed again and coughed a little. Her green eyes widened a bit but she went back to her work. After patting and rubbing my agonized legs a bit more I finally thought to ask: "Wait, where my other shoe, though?" "They have it down there. Wanted to look at it because the leather's so funny-looking. We didn't throw it away. Deer clan's got plenty of leather though. You can always make another one." Not without modern rubber and plastics and a dozen Indonesian ten-year-olds, I thought. I examined my foot. Disgusting purple welts spread across its upper portion up to mid-calf. Other pain had been masking them, and maybe something else. I couldn't think straight. Sitalit got up and lay a hand on my neck as if caressing it. "Come on. Before anything else, there's something we have to do. Lay back." She unstrapped her loincloth and tossed it aside. Well, this was the only high point of this whole situation. Wasn't going to say no. My head felt heavy. Hazy. Swimming. I began to unzip my pants, expecting a repeat of yesterday as she knelt, but the engorged pink cleft between her splayed thighs shifted its way up my body until she planted her knees by my head. Freshly washed and already slightly aroused as this girl always seemed, it smelled heavenly. "Do you know how to do this?" "Err, yes" I answered "I've done it a few times." "Good. I really like it." No shit, I thought. "And it's the easiest way. You must taste me. It will keep you from illness" she intoned, somewhat rehearsed. I couldn't help but chuckle a bit, imagining all the bullshit lines teenage boys must've fed girls over the centuries to get them to give head. Well, what can I say? She had me at hello. I patted her sloping, amply muscled butt down towards me. Not that she needed much encouragement, her hips trembling in anticipation. I extended my tongue to lap gently at her musky crevice for a minute or two before digging into her soft, yielding folds. She whimpered adorably every so often above me, waves of pleasure shifting along the sleek musculature of her groin. By the time I reached her clitoris, her thighs clenched gently around my head and the moisture streaming from her vagina increased. "Oh yes, oh, yes, Adam, that's so good." She sat on my chest to recover from her orgasm and looked down on me through a few stray red curls, her green eyes sparkling with joy. With one finger, she gathered her fluids from around my cheeks and chin and gave them to me to suckle. "Drink me. Today especially. I almost waited too long. Thought having you inside me would be enough. Again!" Eagerly, she shifted her hole back onto my mouth. I dug my tongue as far as I could into her, scooping at her insides. "Oh, fuck! Fuck me with your tongue... your lovely, tasty tongue, oh yes!" she humped her hips against my face, then angled them differently and I took the hint, shifting my attention to her throbbing, swollen clitoris. We went back and forth like that a couple more times before she settled into pulling my hair into a steady, fast suckling of her clit and soon came again, flooding my mouth with her juices. She rolled off me, panting in the grass. "Goddess bless you. You are so good at that! I'll sit on your face every night." I didn't think I'd done anything too fancy and her arousal had probably done most of the work but accepted the praise in a woozy stupor. She got up and "dressed" again, then helped me up and stooped to let me lean on her shoulder, walking me down toward the fire. Her younger sister Atmafit was there, setting aside a haunch of fuming meat from the fire and replacing it with a new, bloody one on the spit. A large deer carcass was suspended from a nearby tree branch, gutted and skinned. They'd been busy. "Sun's long been flying, you two." Atmafit smirked impishly, eyeing something about me I could not place. I belatedly thought my chin and neck were still covered in her sister's vaginal juices. "Umm, is there anywhere I can wash up?" Sitalit turned and walked me to the nearby stream. Laying me on the grass, she fumbled again with the fly on my khakis. "Wait, here?" I protested. "If you want to wash, yes. If you want to piss or shit, do that downstream a bit." "I do want to wash but..." I stared pointedly in the direction of the fire. Atmafit was still in direct line of sight, glancing sideways at us. "What about her? She won't bother you. She knows better." "Well, I mean she's watching." "Watching's no harm. Don't be silly. Let's get you washed fast so we can eat. I'm starving." "I can do it myself." "You can't even stand up by yourself." She chuckled, poking a finger into my chest, which sent me wobbling painfully backwards until she caught me again. Nevertheless I managed to totter off in baby steps, in my underwear, under my own strength to relieve myself a little ways off, then returned. Before I'd even had a chance to argue, Sitalit tugged my briefs down to my ankles. A giggle from the campfire made me blush up to my ears. I stood there, bare-assed in the ankle-deep stream, splashing cold water on myself to rinse off two days' worth of grime while inadvertently entertaining a thirteen-year-old voyeur. The little brat even whistled at me once but I barely heard her. Coughing and sneezing some more. Getting harder to think and I could hardly keep my balance. When I finally splashed some water onto my face I finally realized why. "Sitalit, is my face hot? Does my forehead feel warm?" Her expression was soft and concerned. "It's just the illness all men get after crossing. It's different every time, just coming over you a bit fast now that's all. You'll be healthy soon. You're with me." She hugged me to her, crushing her breasts against me, then led me over to the blanket in the grass. I lay down, butt in the wind, at least keeping my privates down and out of sight. The other two women were ambling out of the trees, hand in hand. Sitalit whispered in my ear: "You know they were all surprised how soft your muscles are. We barely realized yesterday, you did so well keeping up with us, complaining so little. Mother was impressed." This last was said with a proud little-girl lilt. Well, fucking wonderful, I thought, I managed to impress the sky-high bitch-queen. I can finally die a happy man, which seemed more and more likely. Fuck me. I didn't even know what I had. Flu-like symptoms my ass. I was beginning to shiver. The other two knelt next to me. Looking at them I dreamily realized I needn't have been embarrassed by wearing Sitalit's juices on my face. Both their chins glistened in the same way and when Carina's face leaned in close to me the smell of pussy was unmistakable. I was drifting away from the world by now. My teeth chattered. "Wrap him up. Keep him in the sun." At some point I was awoken from a nightmarish semiconsciousness and supported into a sitting position. A copper cup of hot tea was shoved in my hand and I was made to drink the whole thing. Bitter. At some other point I awoke in pain, having been unrolled from the blanket. Sitalit was moistening a cloth in the same little copper cup and using it as a hot compress, alternating with kneading my stiffened muscles. I barked something angrily at her. She didn't care. We talked about something. I don't remember what. I remember very little of the next four or five days, in fact. We walked some more. We found a large river and walked alongside it between the hills, leaning on Sitalit or more often than not Atmafit since she was shorter than me. We stopped often and walked slowly, but I still fell asleep as soon as they stopped pushing me forward. The second day they cut some branches and improvised a stretcher to haul me around on, wrapped in blankets and sweating bullets, when I couldn't walk. They kept assuring me I'd be better soon. We counted fish jumping out of the water (the women tended to lose track above ten) and they pointed out birds I'd never seen before. One of them became dinner. Two nights in a row Sitalit cuddled with me under the blankets, hugging me to her. Then one morning I awoke feeling refreshed and clear-headed under a blanket in the chilly morning air by the riverbank. I blinked, yawned, smacked my lips a bit. With the clarity health can bring I finally realized how sick I'd been, how completely out of it. A walking corpse. Across the smouldering remains of a campfire, Lakshanit lay eyeing me from under another blanket, spooning Atmafit's smaller form while soft snores reverberated from the tangled head of hair cradled between her breasts, reddish even in the gloomy dawn. A tigress and her cub. She raised her eyebrows curiously, then smiled at something over my shoulder. A large, soft, warm mass shifted against my back. Something bit my ear playfully and whispered: "Sun's barely lifting her wings off the ground. Are you well?" So I was still here. This was real, I told myself once more as I had so often over the past few days. Holy shit, I'm on a different planet. Fo' reals. Different dimension, whatever. And, aside from feeling ravenously hungry, I was healthy, had passed through whatever hellish plague had struck me unscathed. Hunting deer for a living can't be that much worse than my old sniveling suck-up middle-manager boss barking gratuitous insults at me. Plus I'm screwing over two meters' worth of gorgeous young fitness model whose hand had currently slid down behind me to cup my butt through my briefs. If this wasn't real, screw reality. "What's to eat?" "You are well" she confirmed in a gleeful tone, reached an arm around my chest to hug me briefly to her and plant a kiss on the nape of my neck then slipped out from under the blanket. A little leather pouch plopped down by my nose. "Going fishing. Eat these until then" Sitalit whispered again and disappeared. I undid the leather string tying the bag closed to find a handful of blackberries. Some were crushed and stained my fingers, others not yet ripe and a bit sour but I was hungry enough not to care. Seeing Lakshanit had closed her eyes again I ate in silence, taking stock of my new surroundings. Bird calls of a dozen breeds ricoched off each other all around me. We'd climbed, from that low-lying scrubland with scattered rolling hills to a forested river valley cutting through continuous tall hilltops. A steady morning breeze ruffled the river's otherwise gently undulating surface. I breathed in. It felt amazing. I realized I couldn't remember the last time I'd taken the time to simply -breathe- and feel the world flowing through me. My head turned for no conscious reason to look at the woods. On cue, Carina's tall, lithe, dark-skinned form distinguished itself from the treeline, making no more sound on the rich green turf by the river's edge than the breeze. Two bloodied squirrels dangled from her left hand and a bundle of nondescript green leaves adorned the other. A flat leather strap nested casually slantwise between her smallish, elongated breasts, holding the bow and quiver of arrows on her back. Soft slithering alerted me to Lakshanit slipping out from underneath her blanket and stretching monumentally up and out, emitting small pops and snaps from various joints and jutting her gloriously curving, heavy bosoms shamelessly out into the dawn. Wordlessly the women set to work, Lakshanit scratching the ashes of the campfire and feeding the embers with a handful of dry straw as Carina set to skinning and gutting her catch. So here they moved through and among, I thought, picturing a thousand other simple mornings like this one. The Deer Clan they called themselves. Watching the grace of their long, supple limbs, their sleek and sure movements, their alert gaze, I could almost believe it - though Irish elk might've better suited their stature. Along these clean rivers, blown this way and that by this fresh wind, slipping quietly, effortlessly between these dew-laden green boughs, the curvy, healthy forms of these beauties seemed as natural as the wild beasts by which they named themselves. Nothing would tell of their passing but a few cold cinders from the night's fire, quickly scattered. Lakshanit bent down on all fours pursing her lips to blow the fire back to life; her giant tits swayed heavily below her. A bit of hot ash settled on the rounded slopes and she patted it off, sending the flesh wobbling hypnotically. As cryptic species go, finding these gals beat the hell out of Bigfoot! Still nobody spoke. Atmafit's eyes had opened, eyeing me quizzically but not moving from under her blanket. We lay there for a bit, sharing a conspiratorial moment of laziness before I decided it was time to get up. My muscles still felt painfully sore and stiff, despite the several nights since our forced march. I wobbled a bit, still woozy after my illness. Lakshanit darted a long arm to my ribs to steady me but still said nothing, didn't even look at me. Finding myself standing there barefoot in my briefs and t-shirt, I held the blanket in front of my crotch nervously, looking around unsuccessfully for my pants. Finally, somehow intimidated into not breaking the silence, I just padded off barefoot in my underwear feeling myself blush furiously. When Sitalit had said "fishing" I'd automatically pictured her sitting by the riverbank with a spring-loaded casting rod waiting for something to bite, an image which, technological limitations aside, ignored these women's more proactive approach to things. The vision of her perched on an overhang hefting one of her "darts" toward the water's surface made me catch my breath and stop dead in my tracks. She stood there perfectly motionless, balanced impossibly with most of her body over the current and one gorgeously tapering long leg back as counterweight. Then, a flick of the wrist. Barely saw her hand move but a second later she retracted her weapon from the water with a splashing, wriggling palm-sized form impaled on it. For a moment I pitied her on a relatively small catch then mentally kicked myself realizing how much more impressive that made her accuracy. Just as I considered announcing myself she turned to look directly at me. "Thanks for not making too much noise. That should be enough now. Is Carina back? I smell smoke." "Yes." "Good. Wash up if you like but don't take too long or there'll be none left for you." Favoring me with a quick peck on the cheek she disappeared again, several slimy silvery fish of various sizes dripping by their tails between her fingers. I shrugged and proceeded to shiver and gasp my way through washing myself with the startlingly cold water, wincing at having to flex my aching muscles. My feet looked almost as bad as they felt, covered in ugly purple welts, scratches and abrasions halfway up my shins. Aside from that I was little the worse for wear. I smiled to myself brushing my hand against the shoulder where Sitalit had bitten me on our second little romp. Heading back to camp, it seemed a leisurely conversation had sprung up. "- ridge up over my house if you want to set it a ways back." Carina was saying. Sitalit shook her head at this. "Then he'll complain about cleaning out pine needles all the time. Maybe down by the lake?" "Soil gets sandy. You'll be re-digging it every fall." Lakshanit frowned, daintily peeling the skin off a fish still smoking from the flames. "Ummm" I interrupted, my hands hovering in front of my crotch trying to nonchalantly cover it up "sorry, but you didn't throw out the rest of my things, did you?" "I packed them for you. They're over there." Sitalit pointed to a tiny bundle I'd ignored before by the foot of our blanket. In a thin, roughly woven wrapping I found my one shoe, two socks and pants. Tightly wrapped in the pants rested all that had been in their pockets. The women had obviously been interested in them but had thrown nothing out. I'd lost my keys and hadn't had my wallet along on my evening stroll so "all" included the smartphone, a pencil I always carried around for some strange reason and a single solitary penny and some lint. No, really, they'd cleaned the blue lint out of my pockets and put it next to everything else. I pulled my pants on and joined them for breakfast. Eating fish on a stick proved beyond my skills, giving young Atmafit a fit of the giggles watching me pick bones out of my teeth. Finally they just handed me a couple of roast squirrel haunches and finding the taste not all that exotic I cleaned them to the bone, garnishing the meat with some of the weirdly pungent herbs Carina had picked. The women talked to each other some more, but the few times I tried to ask questions they answered monosyllabically or Sitalit answered me in their stead. Finally as we were packing up I sidled up to her and whispered: "Why are they avoiding talking to me?" "Because it's bad luck to talk to you more than is needed before the claiming ceremony" she answered in a normal voice with no hint of secrecy. "Ah" I nodded sagely, then caught myself and asked "wait, what claiming ceremony?" "When you become my husband." "Right, right. Ummm..." "Don't worry, it'll be as soon as we get the offerings and altar ready. They just can't do it before we get there because it's bad luck to start it before the man's brought back home." "Riiiiight." I was starting to notice that as in most folklore, pretty much everything counted as either good or bad luck in some obtuse way. I watched the women packing up our minimalist campsite with a growing appreciation for their system. The few leftover bits of meat were charred over the fire until blackened so they'd keep through the day then wrapped up in a little leather bag along with some roots quickly washed in the river. The makeshift stretcher on which they'd carried me partway was dismantled. From underneath blankets and out of various bushes materialized all the weapons they were so good at hiding: Carina and Atmafit's bows and arrows, Sitalit's javelins and knife. Lakshanit surprised me by casually fishing her gigantic boar-spear out of the grass beside me. I'd almost tripped over it. By the end, everything else fit into a big roll of blankets tied with leather cords slung over Lakshanit's shoulder and a couple of smaller leather bags on belts at the others' hips, and we were off. They set a much more leisurely pace than the frenetic scurry of a few days ago, chatting and nibbling bites of food as we ambled uphill along the river. I spent most of the morning watching them walk. My limbs ached and I was still exhausted and recovering from whatever mysterious disease had almost killed me then vanished of its own accord, but the sight of four tall, athletic female forms ambling through sun and shade before me kept me going, almost hypnotized. The rise and fall of their sure, sandaled feet. The hair of different lengths and curliness ruffled by the wind. The gentle roll of their buttocks twisting to supersede each other with every step, disappearing into those flimsy leather loincloths occasionally flapping against their sleek, steely, tattooed thighs. The slow sway of Lakshanit's massive jugs and the occasional jiggle of the other women's smaller adornments. I could've watched them for hours. In fact, I did, allowing myself to fall behind several steps out of the old impulse beaten into me by society never to let a woman find me ogling her, occasionally catching up to trade a few words with Sitalit. "Can you tell me about those tattoos?" "What about them?" "What do they mean?" "The deer's because we're the Deer clan." She shrugged simply, but halted a step, twisting girlishly (don't ask me how anything a head taller than me does anything girlishly, but she did) and flexing the back of her left thigh, making the somewhat stylized doe stretch its legs a bit for my benefit. "And the others? You all have one on your right arm, but only yours and Atmafit's match." Aside from the doe, all the other designs looked like abstracted suggestions of natural shapes, almost hieroglyphics. Atmafit, walking a few steps ahead, splashing her sandals along the river's gravelly edge, looked back at hearing her name. "That's because we're both fated to one day fight to the death for the same husband. This tattoo" she pointed to her skinny upper arm and flipped her hair out of her eyes dramatically "is the name of the man who will doom us. Is it... yours?!?" Her voice rose to a falsely terrified pitch, eyes widening. Lakshanit chuckled, sidled a couple of steps toward her younger daughter and cuffed her playfully over the head to push her into walking again. "Don't tempt fate, little one." Sitalit just huffed and rolled her eyes. "Atmai, grow up." Then, after the others had gotten a few steps ahead, to me: "Don't listen to her. It's just mother's mark. Same mother, same mark." "Oh" I mumbled stupidly. Not that Atmafit was that good an actress or that her fable had sounded at all plausible... under normal circumstances. Under abnormal circumstances, I didn't know what to believe and she'd had me going for a second. Brat. "What about your mother's other tattoos that the rest of you don't have? On her stomach and on her... ummm..." "Her butt?" Sitalit chuckled. I felt myself blush, realizing I'd just confessed to my supposed fiancée of ogling her mother's behind. She seemed merely amused at my discomfort, though. "She's a mother, so the little marks on her belly are mine and Atmafit's. Mine's on the right. That's the one you'll have drawn right here" she twirled and planted a lightning-fast slap on my right buttock, giggling at making me jump "and your mark will go here" she bent slightly, posing, sticking her rump out at me and poking her finger into her own delectable feminine cushion, right side again. I fell silent and contented myself to follow the sway and roll of Sitalit's hips some more. So I was in for the needle, was I? I briefly wondered at the health and safety regulations governing a hunter-gatherer tattoo parlor. Oh well. At least inking each other's names on our butts would've counted as quite romantic for many people in my own world too, so hey, there's a bit of normalcy to ease my confused mind, right? Our little group halted and napped a couple of times, more for my benefit. By sunset the river had split twice and we were tracking a small tributary stream uphill into an increasingly dense mixed forest. Mountain peaks loomed above the hilltops in the distance. The women's excitement seemed to be growing, and upon turning a particular bend in the stream we spotted smoke from near at hand. Lakshanit brought her fingers to her lips and whistled a signal. A response soon echoed back and a tiny figure walked out of the trees and waved to us. They all laughed and patted each other on the backs, visibly relieved. "Are we there yet?" I asked without the slightest bit of sarcasm in my voice, tired and sore and ready for anything but the nomadic lifestyle. Sitalit shook her head. "Not yet. Tomorrow. That's just Taxtawa's camp, but it's good to see her here, always good luck running into another deer away from home." The camp was indeed blatantly not a permanent dwelling place. It consisted of a deerskin tent, a ramshackle wattle-and-daub smokehouse currently reeking of meat under preparation, a refuse pit farther away reeking of decay and the carcass of a deer strung up on a wooden rack. A solidly built woman was washing her arms smeared with blood and grease up to her elbows in the stream. She came up to Lakshanit and to my surprise greeted her with a kiss full on the lips, short but sweet, followed by a quick hug, and while I was still drooling over the sight of their breasts mashing together repeated the process with all three of the others. Then she turned toward me, looming over me slightly taller than Sitalit and Carina but short of Lakshanit's height. Her face was rounded, her shoulders relatively broad, her breasts wide and heavy, slightly larger than a handful. Her hair fell straight down to her shoulders and her hips flared invitingly. Sitalit put a possessive hand on my hip and addressed her. "I've captured a mate. This is Adam." The other woman smiled and leaned down to give me a peck on the lips, smelling of the smokehouse. "I'm Taxtawa" She said simply, then turned away. From then on I found myself mostly ignored for the rest of the evening. The blankets were unrolled again. Sitalit and I were given the tent and after a few bites of food and a long drink of river-water I nodded off while they all worked on the deer carcass and chatted sporadically. I was awoken by warm breath on my face and a hand fumbling at my pants' waistband. "Take it off" Sitalit's voice rasped in the dark "and keep it off. You're not sick anymore. You don't need to be wrapped up." She licked and nibbled playfully around my ears and chin before locking her lips on mine to tongue-wrestle a bit until she felt my pants and underwear slide down to my ankles. For a moment I thought what a funny sight it'd be from outside, given that even my feet poked out of the small one-person tent, not to mention Sitalit's. Nobody passing by could doubt what we were up to, even in the dim light of a dying campfire. Then I realized we weren't the only ones. Dim whimpers, giggles and moans of pleasure reached my ears, making my cock twitch, already at full alert thanks to my adolescent paramour writhing on top of me. Something about the arrangement of the noises disquieted me, but before I could figure it out I felt Sitalit wriggling to switch our positions. "I want you on top of me this time. Want to feel you driving that thick spear into me." We squeezed around each other in the cramped leather abode until I was kneeling between her legs, my shaft nestling in her scratchy pubes, the head caressing and leaving trails of precum around her lower belly. I inhaled one of her firm, round breasts as far as I could into my mouth and sucked on it while humping against her clit up to the point where she began whining adorably in frustration and finally slipped her hand between us to point the head of my prick against her dewy entrance. We slid together by degrees in the dark, both enjoying the trip from tip to root until our pubic bones ground into each other. I paced myself, both due to fatigue and a desire to prolong the feel of her slick, muscular vulva clenching around me as long as I could. Eyes closed blissfully, Sitalit mused between kisses: "Once we have the goddess' blessing you'll give me my daughter like this." Then, thinking, after a couple more thrusts: "Daughters. Three of them. One strong," she gasped as I thrust into her more forcefully, then continued "one fast - mngh! And one clever." Her arms and legs wrapped around me like a net, making it almost hard to breathe, crushing her breasts flat between us. "Faster!" she moaned. Although Sitalit's deathgrip was making it hard to move, we rocked our hips together in the dark, sweating and panting in an increasing tempo. I thought nothing of hearing her slurp a finger into her mouth, or of her fingers digging into my ass cheeks and pulling them apart, until suddenly feeling the cold, slick tip of a finger against my anus. I dug my hips forward into her in surprise and froze. "Wait, I-" "Sssshhh, keep going. I'm almost there!" An arm around my waist and her legs knotted around my thighs locked me in place as she angled her mouth to my bicep and bit down. In the moment of involuntary relaxation after the shock, her free hand prodded into and past my sphincter. Ignoring my slight whine of protest as my hips recommenced automatically crushing into hers, she worked the intruding digit farther in by millimeters with every thrust, letting me feel myself stretching around the first, then the second knuckle. The surety of her motions hinted that she'd done this before. Finally, the moist, scorching, muscular trap at my front and the pumping, flexing, slender invader up my rear overcame my defenses. Feeling my cum erupt inside her, Sitalit ground her cunt into me one last time and clung stiffly on while we both trembled through our orgasms. Through the pleasant post-coital lethargy I registered her finger's lengthy retreat through my anus. She dragged me out into the chilly night air so we could wash ourselves in the even chillier stream, then led me back to our ten through the night, arm around my waist to allow her hand to droop down to my goosebumpy buttocks. "You've got a tight little butthole" she whispered, licking my ear as we walked. "Your women must not have poked it much." I mumbled something noncommittal, mulling over the implications of her being a connoisseur of butthole tightness while trying not to stumble in the defunct campfire's dim red glow. Something about the sleeping arrangements again caught my attention, but was lost in the distraction of Sitalit's fingers stretching around my buttocks to push me into our tent. We crawled under the blanket with her taller form spooning me as I curled up for warmth, nipples poking my back and her free hand drowsily cupping and feeling my scrotum. We fell asleep like that. At least we must've. The next thing I remember's waking up shivering in the chilly dawn, side by side but still wrapped in each other's arms and legs and scattered clothing and half-covered by the insufficient blanket, our legs drawn up inside the tent. I felt a draft and fingers tickled my feet. Beside me, Sitalit, apparently subjected to the same treatment, snorted awake and twitched her leg, kneeing me in the thigh in the process. A voice outside chuckled: "Sun's hiding today, you two. We all overslept. Come on now." Sitalit and I gradually disentangled from one another and I slithered out of our cramped little lodging. I fussed a bit about trying to put my briefs on first only to have Sitalit huff impatiently, brace her feet against me and kick me out in my t-shirt, naked from the waist down. I stood and hurried to cover myself before looking around. A tick mist floated through the trees and over the stream, lending our surroundings an (appropriately) otherworldly appearance. The only one fully awake was Carina, vainly trying to relight the damp ashes and shamelessly eyeing my bare midsection with a growing white grin in her dark brown face. "Can't blame her. Your man-parts were made for grabbin'..." she trailed off, apparently remembering she wasn't supposed to speak with me. I turned back toward the tent and tried to convince Sitalit to at least give me my underwear back, resigned that this only meant presenting my ass and dangling balls to Carina instead of my prick. It took some convincing, but after playing a bit of keep-away and pulling me in to steal a couple of kisses, Sitalit finally huffed and surrendered the little bit of cotton, grumbling something about making me some `proper' clothing. As I pulled them on, the forms under the other two blankets were shifting and stretching awake, and the full realization of our sleeping arrangements' oddity dawned on me. There were only two other blankets. Yet I'd heard sounds of passion from both directions last night. But there were only four women. And only two blankets. As if to confirm my suspicions, Taxtawa's bronze form rose fully naked from under one of them, untangling herself from Atmafit's smaller, skinnier limbs. Absentmindedly scratching her thick black rug of pubes as she yawned, the older woman barely took notice when thirteen year old Atmafit reached up to caress her thigh before handing her her loincloth. The girl rearranged her own garment before rising and finally taking notice of me and approaching a few quick steps to stare pointedly as my underwear-covered crotch. She cocked her head, bent a bit, stared back and forth from my face to the bulge of my genitals a couple of times before shrugging and giggling. "So weird." With that she wandered off as well. I shook my head to clear it a bit. Thirteen, I tried to remind myself. Thirteen years old. Not even in high school, or at last she wouldn't have been if there were such a thing. I'd caught a whiff of Carina and Lakshanit's lesbian relationship before but my mind hadn't quite grasped how free these women were with their physical pleasure. As it turned out, I was still far more naïve than I thought. The morning proceeded in a fog-dampened daze. Meat was packed, belongings gathered, blankets rolled and the smokehouse embers doused. After a quick breakfast we set off laden with deer parts, or in my case a satchel full of tiny wild pears and plums - "plums to go with your big ripe plums" Sitalit specified, giving my crotch a squeeze for emphasis. Despite a late start, we made good time and by mid-day were nearing our destination, but long before that I'd been thrown for another loop. I'd been just getting acclimated to my alien surroundings, making my peace with having been ripped from my own world, never to see anything familiar again. The five women were marching ahead of me, tits in the breeze, effortlessly and shamelessly as ever, chatting about "Taxtawa's man" Jin among other things, when my eyes drifted to Taxtawa's wide hip. On the right, where Sitalit had told me the mate's tattoo would go, almost covered by her loincloth, was a small, black symbol reproduced in tapering gentle curves as though brushed and not needled into her bronze flesh. There, unlike the more primitive, haphazard clusters of lines and spots which constituted the women's own "marks" lay something quite recognizably Asian. I looked from it to Lakshanit's right buttock with its now obviously near-eastern string of wavy lines and almost slapped myself for not figuring this out sooner. It had not occurred to me yet that all of these women's husbands would be captured from other worlds like I was.