Running Eagle, naked except for a leather breechcloth, a red headband and moccasins, heard the melodious humming coming from the camp before he could see the owner of the voice. The naked figure of his female patient, extending her arms above her head greeted him. She looked like a mountain lion stretching her limbs after a rest in the shade. Despite the apparent danger, his gaze zoomed in on her taut breasts and her long spread-out legs. Her smooth pussy was prominent and the sight caused the blood in his head to drop to his cock in one swift painful movement.
With the little blood left in his brain, he wondered how he got into this position, a certified Apache scout rendered speechless, with food in his right hand and an erection between his legs.
Earlier the day he had been following day old tracks of a shod horse. The rider made no attempt to hide it from possible pursuers. The imprints were clearly visible in the red sand and on the rocks amongst the variety of tracings left by other animals.
During the tracking, Running Eagle began to know his quarry. The rider, astride a chestnut horse, was reconnoitering the terrain. Through the depth of the prints, the length of the strides and the way the horse pissed, he could gauge that the mare was about 15-hands and seemed very skittish in the White Apache Mountain Reservation of Arizona. The female rider dismounted a number of times to study cactus flowers or cat's claws and also took samples of each. She was about 5'8", 120b and was also not very comfortable in Apache country.
During that last hour Running Eagle became certain that the rider was lost.
The confusion of markings on the ground in front of him was very also disturbing. Yesterday afternoon a rattlesnake spooked the horse. The rider must've fallen off when the mare bolted in terror. But where could the rider be? On closer inspection Running Eagle saw the place where the rider fell to the ground and rolled over a bluff.
Leaning over the edge he saw a figure lying in a large clearing about twenty feet below. The rider lay face down in the red mud at the edge of a pool. Looking around, he couldn't see the mare anywhere. It must have gone home. Maybe a search party will backtrack the horse and find the rider.
Running Eagle sat back on his haunches to study the situation. The rider might need medical attention and the horse might not make it back to her stable. Reluctantly he stood up. "There are too many maybes," he mumbled and started to look for a way down. He readjusted his leather pouch and the bow and arrows on his back and quickly descended the overhang. His knee-length moccasins were well suited for rock climbing.
Reaching the fallen rider, he quickly removed his pack and proceeded to look for injuries on the prone figure. Carefully sliding his hands over the rider's back, legs and arms, he discovered to his relief that no bones were broken. When Running Eagle pushed his right hand underneath the rider's chest, he touched the softness of a handful of breast. A flash of another woman's naked beast, long ago, brought back a painful memory.
He yanked his hand from the temptation and turned the woman onto her back. She had a bump on her head. Clotted blood on her muddy face and on her long black hair could not hide her beauty. The top buttons of her blue denim shirt were undone, exposing the soft swelling of her bosom. He could feel the awakening of his penis, something he vowed would never happen again.
For ten years he was successful in resisting the temptation of the female flesh, and his own, by running away. During those long years, he became Running Eagle after successfully completing survival courses taught by Tom Brown, Jr. He also proved to himself that he could live off the land. This was the first time since that fateful day that passion warmed his cock.
"Why now?" He picked up the unconscious figure and carried her over to a grassy patch beneath the overhang. He lay her down, collected water from the spring and fished out a cloth from his soft leather pouch.
Running Eagle, a certified scout, started to unbutton his patient's muddy shirt. He pulled the shirt from her jeans, exposing her bra-less but firm taunting breasts to his gaze. The brown nipples winked, inviting him to lick and suck on them.
Running Eagle summoned all his spiritual, mental and physical training to resist touching and caressing those inviting, pleasurable orbs of flesh. He continued to strip her of her clothes, poured water on the cloth and slowly washed away the blood and mud from her body. During the cleansing process he couldn't take his eyes off her hairless pussy, her clitoris and the shy dark pink lips peeking from the slit between her legs. Her hands were soft and not used to hard work.
Her skin was the healthy bronze color of an Apache. "So, you're a lost local," he said, adjusting his straining cock in the confines of his breechcloth. "But from the big city. By the looks of it, you have mixed blood." His patient gave a soft moan.
Finished washing her, he covered her naked body with a soft tanned buckskin. He collected dry sticks to built a fire and while setting up camp busied his hands but not his mind. Where did this goddess come from? Was she a gift from the Great Spirit or another test for his commitment to denouncing the flesh?
Every now and then he stole a glance at the unconscious figure, longing to caress her body and pleasure her protruding jewel terrace with his tongue. He would love to slide his dick up and down her slippery slit before entering her center of joy.
But no, he made a mistake once and it cost him his marriage and his job. Running Eagle emptied his mind and entered the Sacred Silence. He washed her muddy clothes in the pool and set them on a rock to dry in the sun.
The rumble in his stomach reminded him that he hadn't eaten anything for two days. His uninvited guest might also be hungry. Scouting around for signs, he picked up on a Blacktail Jackrabbit's fresh tracks. He removed his slingshot from his leather pouch, picked up eight round stones and followed the tracks. He identified the places where the rabbit nibbled on grass and shrubs, and where it rested beneath a brush.
Running Eagle placed a stone in the rawhide patch attached to two leather thongs and started stalking his prey. The fresh tracks indicated that the rabbit was close by. Suddenly the Blacktail Jackrabbit exploded from its hiding place not two yards from Running Eagle. He swung the slingshot once and let go of the one thong, sending the stone at the rabbit's head.
On his way back to camp he was lucky enough to also bag a Gambel's quail. He dug for roots and picked enough berries to satisfy their hunger. An hour later he entered the camp where female danger lurked.
"Lunch?" asked the goddess, pointing at the dead rabbit and quail, bringing him back to the temptation.
"Huh?" Running Eagle couldn't move a muscle, except the one between his legs, but that was involuntary.
"Hi, I am Wind-in-her-Hair. Happy Earth Day." She walked up to him with an outstretched hand. "Thank you for saving me." Running Eagle looked into her dark eyes then dropped the kill to shake her hand. His sweaty palm turned into fire when he touched her strong hand.
"Yes, thank you for washing them," she said. "Are you going to skin the rabbit or should I try?"
Eventually his heart pumped enough blood back to his brain to at least let him function more or less normally. Avoiding looking at her, he asked Wind to place ten large stones in the fire while he skinned and gutted the rabbit.
Running Eagle removed another large piece of smooth rawhide from his pouch, fashioned ten sticks into a tripod and tied the rawhide between them. He poured water into the receptacle he had made. Using two sticks as pinchers he plopped four red-hot stones into the water. Once the water was boiling he dumped the roots and the rabbit in. Removing the stones from the water he replaced them with other red-hot ones.
He covered the quail in a thick layer of mud and put it in the fire. Two hours later the food was ready and Running Eagle dished up the stew onto two slabs of bark as makeshift plates. He cracked open the mud pack and removed the soft-boiled quail. Throughout the process Running Eagle half listened to Wind going on about how she got lost.
Sitting naked on the grass, Wind gracefully accepted the meal and hungrily wolfed down the stew with a wooden spoon. Running Eagle gave thanks to the Great Spirit before he slowly ate his food. It was difficult not to look at the naked Wind sitting cross-legged across the fire, tempting him with her open pussy, the thin inviting lips and the small pink bud peaking from beneath a hood. Every bite he took was filled with desire for her.
"What is this Earth Day crap?" His eyes locked onto hers, afraid she might see him looking at her nakedness.
"It's about recycling and caring for Nature. I wanted to celebrate it by being in nature."
"You got your wish." Running Eagle looked down at his softening erection. At least something else to take his mind of sex.
"I love being naked." Wind got up, placed the slab of bark on the ground and danced around, smiling happily. She stopped and looked at the setting sun turning the canyon into a paradise. The rays from the sun fired arrows into the green and red brown tranquility before them. Wind's gasp brought his cock back to attention. The sun turned her hair to fire, changing her into a naked angel with a halo.
She slowly turned around and glided over to him. She took his hand and led him to the pool of crystal clear water. More like a lamb to the slaughter, he thought. Before they entered the water, Wind removed his moccasins and breechcloth. When his painful erection sprang free, his relief was audible. She glanced at his erection.
Together they moved into the water till they were waist deep. He followed her like a puppy. Wind pulled Running Eagle closer to her and kissed him on the mouth. Snaking her hand down to his manhood, she caressed him underwater. There was enough heat coming from his cock to boil the water, he thought. She took his hand and placed it on her breast.
Instinct or memory of passion of years gone by kicked into gear and he began kneading her tit. His other hand found its way down to her smooth pussy. He wiggled his fingers on her clit.
Then he came to his senses.
"Why are you doing this?" he asked.
"To say thank you."
"I don't need your fucking charity." Running Eagle turned around and walked out. At the edge of the pool he looked back at her, his cock still semi erect. "If you want to fuck for fuck's sake, I can live with that. But sex as a hand-out, no thank you, ma'am."
"You ungrateful bastard." Running Eagle could see that she was angry. Maybe no man has ever rejected her.
"This is not about gratitude," he said. "It's about fucking. I want to fuck your brains out but I've been bitten by a woman like you before."
Wind stormed through the water at him. Running Eagle dropped his arms to his sides. She stopped an inch from his face. Her nipples touched his chest and his cock head rubbed against her clit. They stared at each other, without a word. Wind began to sway her hips to and fro, stimulating his dick with her clitoris. Running Eagle could feel it getting wet, either from his own precum or her juices. Her hard nipples pressed against his chest, piercing his heart.
He looked down to see the lust in her eyes, matching his own.
"It's not nice for a half-breed Apache woman to admit she loves fucking," she said. "People from around here don't take to kindly to sluts."
"I'm not from around here."
Then she kissed him, long and deep. His cock has risen to its full glory, pushing them apart. She dropped to her knees and admired the purple head and the thick vein running down the stem to his heavy balls. Then Running Eagle's penis disappeared into her warm mouth. Her head bobbed up and down. He could feel the suction on his shaft. She played with his balls while she buried his dick in her masterful mouth.
After what seemed like an eternity, Running Eagle pulled her up and slid his hand down her body to the center of the world, her pussy. He kissed her open mouth, licking her lips with his tongue. He spread her legs apart and cupped her pussy with his hand. A finger slipped between the folds of her slit into the wet valley of pleasure. Her pussy lips were already puffy and wet. Pushing his middle finger into her love canal he fucked her while he made little circles with his thumb on her clit.
Then she surprised him. She pushed his head down and offered her pussy to his gaze and his mouth. Hesitantly, he snaked out his tongue to lick her slit. When he tasted her pussy juice he fell in love with this goddess. She tasted better than life to a dying man. He continued finger fucking her while his tongue sucked and licked her protruding pleasure trigger.
She moaned and pushed her hips against his mouth. He could not get enough of her life juice. He drank and drank, and licked and sucked till she screamed. She quivered and her legs gave out from underneath her. She collapsed on top of him.
Wind spread her legs over his hips and impaled her on his dick. He could feel her tight pussy devouring his meat. He met her descending body with the thrusts of his pelvis.
Her breasts attracted his hands like magnets. He squeezed them softly and rolled her nipples between his fingers. She threw her head backwards in a cry of ecstasy without interrupting her rhythm.
Wind bent forward to pound her clit on his pubic bone. Seeing this, Running Eagle removed his hand from her breast and wedged it between their bodies, caressing her pleasure bud. A thin layer of glistening sweat formed on their bodies, making their lovemaking a slippery enterprise.
The sensation on his cock built up like a volcano. Ten years without sex erupted in a blinding white light, spewing sperm inside her. For a moment Running Eagle became one with the universe and with this goddess. Tears rolled down his face, tears of happiness and also of sadness. He wasted all this time, blaming a woman for his downfall when it was his own fault; fucking his boss' wife and getting caught. How could this kind of lovemaking ever be bad?
Running Eagle felt Wind shake in throws of another orgasm, bringing him back from his past. He raised his upper body to a sitting position, with Wind still impaled on his still hard cock. He hugged her, planting small kisses on her neck, her breasts, her beautiful face, ending on her mouth. He pushed his tongue between her lips and she immediately began to suck on it. His hand strayed to her sensitive clit again, extracting a gasp from her.
"I never did get your name," she said, stretching backwards to get a good look at him.
"Matt Block," he said, ripping off the red headband. "Formerly known as Running Eagle, phony white Apache scout."
"Well, Matt Block, formerly known as Running Eagle, this is the best Earth Day celebration I ever had," she whispered in his ear. "Now, fuck me again!"