Earth Day, Sioux Indian Style Ch. 03

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"Ass, tits, pussy, ass, tits, pussy, ass, tits, pussy..."
3k words
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Part 3 of the 12 part series

Updated 10/31/2022
Created 03/28/2008
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Lisa was a pretty, dark haired, brown-eyed girl that he met while working at the Whole Foods Store before he quit that job to contemplate his unemployment options during the warm weather and the bright, sunny summer days while lazing around his backyard pool. As nice and down to earth, as she was beautiful and sexy, never had he known anyone like her. She was indescribable. She was so indescribable in fact that whenever he tried describing her to his friends, he couldn't do her demeanor and beauty justice. She was the first Native American woman he had ever met who wasn't on television and in a cowboy and Indian movie. He was falling for her.

Because of her heritage, mostly Sioux Indian with a wee bit of Irish on her father's side and her mother an American Native Indian from a small tribe in British Columbia with a bit of French ancestry in her, which explained the half-size totem pole proudly displayed on the front lawn, she was strikingly beautiful.

In the way that white men freely and repeated raped Native American Indian women back then with the same lustful disregard they had when they repeated raped black female slaves, without regard for them as people, instead thinking of them as mindless savages and with no penalty or laws enforced to dissuade the abatement of their violent assaults, he wondered if General George Custer and the United States Calvary had anything to do with the Irish being mentioned in her family tree. The Irish in her, from the American Calvary, no doubt, from her father's side and the bit of French in her, from the French Canadian fur trappers, no doubt, from her mother's side diluted her blood line just enough to give her exquisite one of a kind beauty.

Besides the way that she looked, what first made him notice her were the uncommonly wise things that she said. Instead of saying the dumb things that women said at her age, instead of being preoccupied with shopping, hair, makeup, nails, cell phone texting, and boys, she was deeper, introspective, and more contemplative than that. She had these cute daily wisdoms of life that Native American Indians always reverted to about nature and animals when drawing an analogy about the bad behavior of Caucasians and when pondering the meaning of life in general.

Talking to her was akin to talking to a sage who was in charge of guarding the planet. She was an oracle filled with planetary tidbits and environmental details. Her recall of those things that were important to her quality of life was amazing. Never would you ever see her wasting her time by shopping at the mall. Whatever she said stayed with him throughout the day and, as he pondered the double meaning of her statements, her subtle clues enlightened him.

What she said as a passing thought meant more to him as his new found way of life than what other women who he had intimately known in the past and have taken volumes to say without making as much of a commentary point that she makes in one sentence. That was it, he felt enlightened whenever he was with her. He was in awe of her wisdom and insightfulness. She was so full with a wealth of knowledge that he felt as if he was being tutored privately to what was important in life. In the way that a short woman makes a man of average height feel taller, unselfish with her knowledge whenever freely imparting her information, she had a magical way of making him feel smarter than he was.

Along with her beauty, her cute way of saying things is what stayed with him long after leaving her. Whenever he thought of her, he heard her voice in his head saying something cute but insightful and that made him miss her terribly. Always, he heard her voice much like a growing consciousness that helped him through his day whenever he thoughtlessly put the good of the planet last and didn't do things the way she would have done them.

Suddenly, her conversations with him regarding the planet were working their magic on him and changing his conscious thought. Suddenly, he was feeling guilty whenever he didn't consider the repercussions of his environmental wastefulness. He'd smile with the thoughts of her admonishing his bad decisions whenever he mindlessly was about to do something that was inherently bad for the planet. Thinking of her changed his bad behavior making him do the right thing.

"The Native American Indian is the soil, he fits in the landscape that once grew as naturally and as beautiful as wild flowers. Once upon a time, Indians ran as free as Buffalos," she said when comparing her people to nature, "and we never took anymore than we could use from the land."

Of course, I've taken one such wisdom out of context, but with a heritage so rich with the Earth, she had a thousand of these types of sayings and for all occasions. Never was she without one, especially when comparing the bad habits of modern day people to the laws of that natural order of things that was the universe.

He never tired of listening to her speak of her culture, traditions, and nature. Yet, in love with her now, he could perceive a time when some of these sayings, much like the howl of an endless coyote or the hoot, hoot, hoot of an owl that never sleeps, became annoyingly tiresome with her prolonging the point and with her sweet voice now becoming as grating on his nerves later as a crying crow that refuses to leave a tree in front of his house.

"Damn you Pocahontas, I mean, Lisa, just say what the Hell you mean in English. I don't have my Sioux Indian decoder dictionary with me today. Just tell me what time to pick you up from the hairdresser."

When the hawk reaches its summit in the sky, when the Blue bird of happiness shits on your shoulder, and when the chipmunk stands tall against the squeal of tires bearing down upon him by a blue Ford Explorer is when I'll be ready."

"Whatever, I give up. I'll just wait outside for you."

As a proud member of the Sioux tribe, she believed that there was a purpose for everything that lived on the Earth with an herb to cure every malady.

"We are here for a reason," she said, "and are not complete until we find our purpose in life."

Certainly going to school full-time and working two jobs, she was on a mission to find her purpose, as her parents and grandparents before her had found their purposes. Presently, unemployed and floating around on his rubber raft in his parents' pool ala Dustin Hoffman when he played Benjamin Braddock in the movie The Graduate, Freddie pretty much figured out that his present purpose in life was to have hot and deeply penetrating sex with his Indian girlfriend, Lisa. Now that she was standing before him naked, this could become his reality and he may be getting laid sooner than later. God, he loved Earth Day.

What he liked most about her was her personality. She made him happy every time he was with her. She was the kind of person who was upbeat, positive, and personable. She had such a beautiful smile. Everyone liked her. She was just so nice and she overwhelmed him with her personable attitude. He wished he was more like her.

Too critical of people from having suffered city living, he needed to spend some quality time embracing nature, meditating, and relaxing. Breathing deeply was not a good thing to do when living in a polluted city filled with the toxic exhaust fumes of cars, trucks, and buses.

She talked of going camping and pitching a tent deep in the forest. She talked about sleeping beneath the starry sky. He liked the idea of camping, but at the end of the day, he'd prefer having a hotel room where he could take a long, hot shower, order up room service, and snuggle up against her hot body in a soft bed laden with lots of comfortable pillows later while watching a porn movie. Definitely, he wasn't the camping type.

She liked people and he liked that about her. Able to maintain a conversation with anyone about anything, he admired her people skills. He loved that about her. He wished he could be more like her in that way, too. He wished he could reach out to people more and in the way that she could. Only, raised in the city, he learned to be standoffish, guarded, and suspicious early. Leaving one too vulnerable and open, it doesn't pay to be openly friendly on the mean city streets, sometimes. Growing up in the city, he developed his stone like city face to dissuade interaction and conversation from strangers who were intent on looking for and taking advantage of naïve victims.

Affectionately, he loved calling her his squaw. He found the word as endearing as he found it sexually exciting. He thought of her as his little squaw whenever she walked beside him, behind him, or in front of him on the street, in the supermarket, or in the stores, especially when checking out the wiggle of her sweet ass from behind. Only, he had no idea he was insulting her.

"Should you ever meet my parents," she said not making eye contact, but instead looking down while fidgeting with a button on her blouse, "don't say that in front of them."

"Don't say what?"

"Squaw. Don't ever call me squaw in front of my parents."

"Why not? It's my pet name for you," he said smiling proudly that she was his squaw, putting his arm around her shoulders, and pulling her closer for a kiss. "I like calling you my squaw." He so wanted to reach down and cup her ass through her tight jeans, but he feared that it was too soon in their 3 month relationship to do that. Suddenly, he felt that he was dating a Catholic Nun instead of a hot Native American Indian woman.

"I know you do, Freddie, but—"

"I don't mean anything by calling you that," he said lovingly touching her cheek with his fingers. "You call me white man and I don't take offense at that. "

"You are a white man," she said laughing. "Matter of fact, even though you hang around your pool all day, you are the palest Caucasian I've ever seen. You need to get out more and get some sun" she said.

"Maybe, I use too much sunscreen," he said looking down at the pale white skin of his forearm, skin that was even whiter than Michael Jackson's skin.

"You must understand that calling me a squaw is different. I'm not any man's squaw," she said with a defiant look.

"Well, I didn't mean it like that," he said suddenly feeling defensive. "I didn't mean it as a bad name only as a pet name. I guess," he said laughing, "asking you to call me big chief is out of the question, then, too, huh?"

"I can't call you big chief, Freddie," she said with a serious look. "Chief is an important title to our tribe and you are not a member of our tribe nor are you a chief."

"I'm sorry, I was only kidding." It was sometimes difficult to communicate with her, especially when making light of something that she felt so serious about. He meant it one way and she took it another. They were from backgrounds so different that he felt that he was running as hard and as fast as he could to maintain a level of mutual communication with her. Only, sometimes it failed miserably and left him walking away scratching his head.

"You must understand that my parents would take you calling me squaw and me calling you chief, especially big chief, as derogatory remarks. They wouldn't think it funny in the way you do and in the way that I tolerate you calling me that. They'd feel that you didn't respect me and that I didn't respect myself if I allowed you to continue to disrespect me by calling me squaw," she said.

"I'm sorry," he said feeling sufficiently admonished, as if he had used a bad word in front of his mother when he was a child.

She always talked in circular riddles like that, which more endeared her to him now, but conceivably could confuse him and piss him off later in life. Suddenly, he imagined being married to her for twenty years. He imagined her fat from having one too many papooses and him no longer listening to her endearing circular riddles. He imagined her making a campfire in the living room and her having a teepee out back where she slept with nature and with the bugs at night while he stayed in the bedroom upstairs and browsed the web for pornography of naked Italian women.

"I know you don't mean anything by it, but they feel that word is slanderous against Native American Indian women."

"Oh, okay, but I never thought about it like that. I'm sorry. I won't use that term again." At this point with a naked and beautiful Native American Indian squaw, I mean, woman in his arms, he'd say anything if it meant getting laid. "So, why are you naked?"

As soon as he asked the question, he chastised himself for asking it. Obviously, she wants sex. Duh, Dude! Obviously, she wanted him to see her body. Obviously, she wants him.

'It's a long fly ball, going, going, gone.' He imagined himself hitting one out of the park finally today, this Earth Day.

"This is how I celebrate Earth Day," she said smiling an infectious smile. "This is how I stay in tune with my ancestors."

When she said that, she stopped him in my tracks.

'Is she kidding me?'

This is how she celebrates Earth Day, a holiday he rarely even heard of until she invited him here to this celebration? This is how she stays in tune with her ancestors? When she opened the door naked, he figured the Earth Day celebration was a ruse to get him over there. He figured he'd be getting laid. He never suspected that she had a completely different agenda in mind and one that was in opposition with his. She was celebrating Earth Day and feeling her ancestors and he just wanted to get laid.

'So you don't want to have sex with me? Now confused and disappointed, he wanted to ask her that, but thought better of it and didn't. He couldn't believe that she answered the door naked not because she wanted him and not because she wanted him to see you naked, but because she was celebrating Earth Day Native American Indian style?

'Friggin' squaw. What the fuck?'

His disappointment along with not being able to call her his squaw anymore weighed heavily in his heart. Suddenly, he felt as if he had been shot with a flaming arrow in the chest followed up by a tomahawk to the head.

Nonetheless, she was so damn pretty that it didn't much matter what her purpose or intention was that she had in being naked. Just to see her naked was worth it to him. Did I mention that she was naked? Yeah, she was naked alright. Did I mention that she had an incredible body? Oh, yeah, she had an incredibly and outrageously sexy body. Yeah, she was showing her naked and incredibly sexy body to him. Still, he watched his chance to bed her slowly evaporate. He decided to take her all in and to memorize her naked form in graphic detail for later when he was alone again and naked in his room and sexually frustrated after failing to get laid, yet, again.

Truly, he hated this holiday called Earth Day. Truly, she just scarred him for the rest of his life whenever it came to future Earth Day celebrations. Now, whenever he heard the term Earth Day, he'd chop down a healthy tree, demand paper instead of plastic, spit and pee in public, wear fur, waste water, and throw his recycling bin in the trash.

'It's a long fly ball, but it's curving, curving, curving foul. Oh, darn, it's a long fly foul ball. Had he hit it straight, had he been more sincere in his intentions, had he not called her squaw and asked her to call him big chief, perhaps, it would have cleared the fence and gone out of the park. Perhaps, he would have scored on a homerun. Perhaps, he would have gotten laid.'

"Earth Day is my day to stay naked and a day that is very special to my people. We are one with the Earth today, if only for a day, this day, our Earth Day," she said raising her hands above her head, spinning around on her toes, and inhaling a big breath of air. "I love life today. Today, I feel one with the Earth."

When she raised her hands high over her head, he couldn't take my eyes off her tits and her pussy, and when she spun around, he stared at her incredible ass. She was a whirl of ass, tits, and pussy. His mouth was in the permanent shape of a fish wanting food, only he wanted to suck her nipples. He stared at her knowing full well that he'd be jerking off over the naked image of her later.

He imagined she figured that by his smile that he delighted in her dance, but what was going through my mind as she spun around and around the room naked was, 'Ass, tits, pussy, ass, tits, pussy, ass, tits, pussy...'

To be continued...

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  • COMMENTS
10 Comments
SlickTonySlickTonyalmost 16 years ago
At Last, At Least Something Between Quote Marks

I'm glad to see dialog at last. But the way the story flows is kind of confusing. When I got to this chapter I started to wonder if you'd taken all the chapters and flung them in the air and submitted them the way they fell.

AnonymousAnonymousalmost 16 years ago
Poor Old BFD

He can't write, his only fans are cucks from the UK, and now he's decided to defend himself with what I'm sure he thinks are clever remarks about the comments he's getting. What a farce! BTW, BFD, you're just as anonymous as anyone just using "Anonymous" for convenience. Your inability to understand that is one of a number of indications you're just not up to the task of writing.

JIMBO4231JIMBO4231almost 16 years ago
Great

Who really cares where we all came from,its a wise man that knows his father,get it Freddie

BOSTONFICTIONWRITERBOSTONFICTIONWRITERalmost 16 years agoAuthor
Just another bash

Your indignation rings hollow when you sign your name as anonymous. This is just another bashing comment to a good story. Now, if you are serious about this being a racist story and me being a racist, sign your name to your comment and we'll discuss it.

Otherwise I give this no credence as I would any other bashing comment.

AnonymousAnonymousalmost 16 years ago
A disappointment

I didn't vote and I left the rating 50/50 for this comment since what I have to say is about the content of your story and not your writing skills. This is horribly embarrassing. I felt ashamed reading it, it's so racist, BOSTONFICTIONWRITER, but I read it anyway, hoping you wrote something that would redeem yourself. You should have the entire story deleted and rewrite it after doing much research on Native Americans and taking culture sensitivity classes. <p>Note, I didn't say delete the story and put it away in the circular file. I think you have the capacity of writing something worthwhile with a message. I can see the whole "Earth is precious and we must take care of her", but this racial ignorance and lack of research ruins it. It's a real insult to your readers.

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