Every Man's Fantasy Ch. 18

Carlin always looked after her young friend and thought up the answer. The girls devised an obstacle course, just for Pepi. There were ladders to climb and tree-trunks to slide down, ropes to swing on, logs to balance on or jump over and monkey-bars to hang from.

Hazel, who knew Pepi the least well, teased the girl by saying they would dig a pit under the monkey-bars filled with sharpened stakes to encourage her to cling on tightly.

She was mortified, therefore, when her tease backfired and Pepi leapt at the idea. The eager girl wouldn't be dissuaded nor believe that Hazel had been joking. Now the joke was turned on Hazel, as the girls took Pepi's side. They marked out a pit to dig and laid out some stakes to be sharpened.

Hazel asked Sharne to intervene and forbid Pepi to have a death-pit to swing over; but Sharne only smiled at Hazel's predicament, refusing to transfer Pepi's justified complaint to herself.

Hazel had one more recourse. She meekly consulted Mirselene, thinking Pepi must obey her chief.

The great woman listened quietly, nodding occasionally. Then she asked to see all the girls together. Hazel fetched them, including Pepi.

Mirselene looked seriously at the girls.

"I hear you're digging a death-pit for Pepi under her monkey-bars," she said.

The girls nodded.

"I think it's a wonderful idea," Mirselene said, to Hazel's discomfort and Pepi's delight. "How many spikes will it have?"

"Twenty, Madam," said Wildchild, enjoying the uncomprehending look on Hazel's face.

"How deep will the pit be?"

"Three feet."

"So how far will Pepi fall?"

"I won't fall!" the girl herself interrupted.

"But if you do, how far?"

"About five feet," Wildchild said.

"Ah, then I see a problem. If Pepi falls in and gets impaled on the spikes, someone will have the unpleasant task of cleaning up the mess. Do you girls promise to clean out the blood, flesh and bones?"

"We can't, Madam," Wildchild answered: "we will be too busy with our chores, and some of us are afraid of blood."

"In which case, I'm sorry girls but I must forbid the death-pit. You can fill the pit with water, if you like. I don't mind if Pepi drowns because there'll be no mess."

"Ha, ha!" Pepi exclaimed, proudly. "I can swim. Carlin taught me."

"What a shame! Never mind: that's my ruling."

In the end, they put straw bales under the monkey bars but, true to her word, Pepi never fell. And despite regretting her death-pit, Pepi none the less loved the obstacle course and played on it for a whole week, every lunchtime, while those with spare minutes came to admire her prowess on the ropes and bars. But as the interest of the tribe gradually waned, Pepi used the obstacle course less and eventually abandoned it because there's no point in having fun on an obstacle course if there's no one to watch.

After this, however, whenever it was convenient, and she could be spared, the hunters took Pepi with them, to lay a trap for the pigeons with seeds or corn. Thus they decimated the local pigeon population and had to go further afield to find large flocks to attack.

They brought home so many birds that they filled the storage huts, ran out of salt for curing the meat, used all the spare seed and stuffed every pillow and mattress with so many extra feathers that their seams threatened to burst.

One day the girls came back from hunting with twenty pigeons strung over their shoulders. Pleased with themselves, they marched to the storage huts to hang up the birds, ready for plucking and cooking.

Mirselene sat in her arm-chair on the dais, enjoying the warm afternoon sun. Casti sat nearby, dandling her infant granddaughter on her knees. The young mothers sat around the dais, feeding their daughters or watching them play on the ground. The rest of the Woodlanders sat on the benches, taking a rest before starting to prepare for that night's feast.

The path of the hunters took them past the seated women.

"Oh my!" said Casti as the girls passed.

"What is it, dear?" asked Mirselene.

"Just look at those girls."

Mirselene squinted across the campfire.

"Come here, girls, so we can see you clearly," she ordered.

The four girls lined up for inspection in front of the dais.

Strong, lithe, athletic and gorgeous in their leather hunting attire, they made a lovely sight for anyone who admired female beauty and forest fashions.

Three blondes and one with wavy black hair, they had long shapely legs, short skirts (except Wildchild, who wore her man's trousers, cut very short) and short-sleeved tops cut to reveal bare midriffs. Beads of sweat shined on their taut flat stomachs. With bows slung over their shoulders, tightly-braided hair tied up out of the way, their faces glowed with the well-earned pride of skilled and successful hunters. The girls smiled brightly as Mirselene peered near-sightedly at them.

"Sweet heaven!" she exclaimed. "We are a God-blessed beautiful tribe. ... You girls have done very well. Go and relax. We'll make the feast tonight."

Some of the women exchanged knowing looks when Mirselene said 'we' because she would certainly just sit and supervise while they made the feast. None the less, the hunters had worked hard and deserved a break. No one complained when they stripped off and went to the pool for a noisy bath.

As they left, Casti's granddaughter turned her head to follow them.

"You see those beautiful girls, Darling?" Casti said to the uncomprehending infant. "Your grandmother used to have a figure like theirs."

"Oh, mother!" Urulla protested. "You still do."

"Hardly," Casti said.

"We all did," Mirselene asserted, somewhat wistfully, "when we were their age."

Everyone kept a diplomatic silence, some biting their lips to stop themselves making the obvious comment. All except Dagma, who let out an involuntary rude snort, which Mirselene noticed, however.

"All right," she corrected with a self-deprecating chuckle, "not all of us looked quite like them. ... But we are certainly a God-blessed beautiful tribe."

"We are," Casti agreed, "and richer than ever, especially in pigeon-meat."

"I see," Mirselene said, wisely.

"I don't want to be ungrateful, ..." Casti began to explain.

"Quite so," Mirselene interrupted, "but you're fed up to the back teeth with roast pigeon. I expect everyone is. All right, I'll talk to the girls but, as you say, we mustn't be ungrateful."

******

After using the pool, Hazel and Wildchild went to the Honeymoon Lodge, where they slept, to change for the feast. Hazel had her own dress and Wildchild had the yellow frock that Gloria let her keep. They got out the clothes but were in no hurry to put them on.

It was warm in the hut and they weren't completely dry from the bath. Water glistened on their hot young bodies. Wildchild brushed her black curly hair back from her face and gazed at her naked bedmate, who looked lustily back at her.

The girls always felt horny after a successful hunt, so the question was: who would jump on the other one first?

When their love was fresh and new, it was Hazel who took the lead, teaching Wildchild about sex. They made love slowly, with gentle touches, soft caresses, pecking kisses, little nibbles and teasing licks; all tenderness and mutual reassurance.

Now Wildchild knew what she wanted, they had sex to a different rhythm, making love in a wild energetic manner, giving joy by taking possession, competing to go on top or to be the one who made the other girl orgasm. Hazel was ticklish all over and Wildchild's bottom was highly sensitive. Both loved having their tits sucked.

A game they played was to make the other girl beg for it. Though losing was just as good as winning, there was pride at stake, so they played conscientiously.

Seeing the lust in Wildchild's eyes, Hazel took a step toward her bedmate, who retreated a step. They prowled around each other, like lionesses, keeping eye-contact but also aware of where the other girl's hands were.

Wildchild looked like she was going to pounce but Hazel suspected a feint and countered by turning her back, making herself seem vulnerable. Wildchild didn't take the bait but circled close to Hazel, who span and made a grab for Wildchild's arm. Wildchild was too quick. She leapt out of the way onto the bed.

Hazel leapt after her but Wildchild rolled away and Hazel ended up sprawled on her front. Now Wildchild held her down. Hazel thrashed around, trying to roll over but when she turned to one side, Wildchild grabbed a tit and pulled Hazel's head back to kiss her neck.

That was two points to Wildchild and she pressed her advantage. Hazel lay still, shut her eyes and sighed, enjoying the lips and tongue on her neck and the massaging hand on her tit. It was a ruse. Wildchild moved her legs to get comfortable, spreading them wide and Hazel pushed herself over and trapped Wildchild around the waist with her legs.

From here, she tried to turn Wildchild but it was a contest of strength and Wildchild won, breaking Hazel's hold, flipping her, pulling her up by the waist, getting her mouth on Hazel's pussy.

That was three points and the first round to Wildchild, who won the right to bring Hazel off with an orgasm.

She got the girl to lean back and push her pelvis up, spreading her long legs wide. Her blonde pubic hair made a beard around her cute pink pussy, already dripping. Wildchild knelt down and ran her tongue along the girl's sweet wet lips.

After a few good licks, which got Hazel humming, Wildchild put her mouth on Hazel's clitoris. Her hands roved over the girl's hips and waist as she kissed her pussy ever more passionately. Hazel couldn't help bucking, giving in to the erotic assault.

"Oh my God!" she exclaimed, shutting her eyes, her hands gripping the mattress.

Wildchild sucked hard on her clitoris, lashing it with her tongue. Hazel moaned loudly.

"Oh my God! Oh my God!" she wailed.

She moaned again when Wildchild pushed a probing forefinger into her vagina.

Hazel was so hot and horny, it didn't take long to get her off. With an eager mouth on her clit and a finger rubbing inside her pussy, Hazel felt the upstream current flowing out, the intense hot-spot sending jolts around her body, tingling over her skin. She stiffened and arched, pushing her pelvis further forward, encouraging Wildchild to work her pussy harder. Wildchild twisted her finger-tip up and sucked harder on Hazel's clit. It was the moment.

Hazel cried out and came hard, trying to close her shaking legs and pull her pelvis back; but Wildchild had a good grip on her and she used her tongue and finger until Hazel couldn't cum any more. She pulled her knees together and twisted to one side to escape her girlfriend's attentions.

"All right, Darling. No more," Wildchild assured her and Hazel turned back to invite her girlfriend to lie on her.

They held each other, laughing and cuddling, until Hazel had recovered and it was round two. Now the loser would be the first one to stop.

They lay on the bed, Wildchild on top, kissing ferociously, holding each other tightly, unable to break the kiss and admit defeat. It was unrestrained passion and Hazel was determined to make Wildchild lose.

Mouths locked, a hand in each other's hair, tits with hard pink nipples rubbing together, Hazel stroked Wildchild's buttocks with her other hand. Wildchild squirmed but she didn't break the kiss. Hazel reached around and rubbed her long fingers on Wildchild's pussy. Wildchild began to buck.

When Hazel infiltrated a finger into her pussy, Wildchild gave up the contest and broke the kiss to gasp and breathe deeply. Hazel pressed her advantage and turned the girl over. With a finger in her pussy, her thumb resting on the clitoris, poised to rub, Hazel took a firm little tit into her mouth and gave suction.

Wildchild's head went back and she grabbed handfuls of bed sheet, moaning with a full throat. Then Hazel went to town. She kissed down Wildchild's hard body and lay with her head between her thighs, kissing and licking. Hazel gently worked her fingers together, stimulating inside and outside Wildchild's pussy, alternately licking the clitoris or twiddling it with her thumb.

Wildchild had to obey the rules. She lay back in erotic abandonment, building quickly to an ecstatic release. Hazel was patient, however, and made Wildchild wait, keeping the sensitised girl in an excited state. When she finally took pity on the girl and pistoned her fingers in quickly to make her cum the first time, Hazel had a new idea.

She turned, lay on her back on top of Wildchild and rubbed her bottom on Wildchild's pussy, mashing her sensitised clitoris, giving it a wonderful rub. Wildchild responded with eager pleasure, reaching around to finger Hazel's pussy and keep the action going. Now they moaned in unison, Wildchild fingering, Hazel rubbing, building together to a mutual climax.

Hazel arched her back and Wildchild squeezed a tit with her spare hand. She breathed heavily in Hazel's ear and her girlfriend twisted around to press their mouths together. They held the kiss to the very last, a shared overflowing of joy after a shaking release from tension.

Lying together they kissed sweetly, bringing each other gently down from her peak until they were rested and content, letting the heat from their bodies slowly escape.

Then they dressed and joined the tribe for the nightly feast.

When everyone had platters laden with roast pigeon or bowls of pigeon soup bulked out with root-vegetables, Mirselene had a question for Hazel.

"Have you ever tasted duck?" she asked.

"Yes, Madam, but not often. We Farmers keep ducks and geese but we usually just eat the eggs."

"The reason I asked is that I would like to eat some duck," Mirselene said. "We've admired your prowess as pigeon-hunters. How would you girls like to take a hunting trip to Duck Lake?"

"I want to go! I want to go! I want to go!" exclaimed Pepi hopping from one foot to the other, waving her arms to attract Mirselene's attention.

She had missed out on the last expedition to Duck Lake, but now Pepi was ten years old and a much more serious person, there was surely no denying her.

"Well, that depends on the other girls," Mirselene said.

"We'd like Pepi to come," Wildchild said, "if Sharne doesn't mind."

"Mind? Just don't let her bring back a swan," Sharne said.

"I've eaten swan," Pepi told Hazel. "It was horrible!"

The girls sat together to plan their excursion to Duck Lake. They would take tents and stay long enough to have a real go at the ducks and geese. Pepi was the happiest girl in the camp. She was too small for a bow, but she knew how to use Tamar's slingshot; so they set off the next day, giving the local pigeons a welcome rest from the onslaught.

******

Three days later, five triumphant but exhausted hunters returned with sixteen ducks and three geese.

Given the afternoon off as a reward, Pepi went to play with her baby sister and the other girls took a stroll in the forest. Hazel and Wildchild left the others behind and, when she thought they were alone, Wildchild took hold of Hazel's hand. She never did this. The only thing Wildchild ever seemed shy about was holding Hazel's hand in public.

They walked on a little, then stopped to kiss. Wildchild bushed Hazel's hair off her cheek, and kissed her girlfriend with a hand on her neck, the thumb against her jaw. Hazel held Wildchild's cheek and they pressed their tongues together. It was an act of supreme tenderness, a moment of unselfconscious love. They walked back to the camp hand-in-hand.

Everyone could see how happy Wildchild and Hazel were together, how much in love they were. Tamar felt sorry for Carlin and Carlin felt sorry for Tamar.

Neither girl should have worried, however, because things change, though they sometimes change so slowly that no one notices the change until after it happened.

Tamar had been beside herself with joy at the Cloner Fair when Wildchild told her she was coming home. She feared her friend might stay in the Cloner City to be with Hazel.

She hadn't the slightest feeling of jealousy because she knew in her heart that Wildchild loved her, as she would always love Wildchild. Nothing would change that; but she didn't think any more about what would happen when she was eighteen and became Wildchild's destined bedmate.

It was unusual in such an intellectually vibrant girl, always trying on new ideas for size, that she would simply assume their old plans still applied. She never analysed why she didn't think about it, not until afterward, when it was obvious.

Tamar had changed as she matured. Slowly and inadvertently, in gradual steps unperceived by the girl herself, her childhood love for Wildchild also matured and transformed. Tamar didn't notice her transition until she saw Wildchild and Hazel kissing in the forest, stroking each other's hair.

It was so feminine, so girlish, and so unlike the Wildchild she loved, that Tamar realised how much of an effect Hazel was having. Tamar had her epiphany. She understood deep down what it meant to say that Hazel and Wildchild were bedmates, how it was much more than just sex, how the two girls were merging into a single soul. It changed everything.

She and Wildchild would always have a special connection - shared memories, shared dangers and a secret language - but Tamar now realised that they weren't going to be bedmates. The realisation neither shocked nor pained her. It was obvious that her love for Wildchild was not the bedmate kind of love. She didn't yet know exactly what kind of love it was but what she dreamed of as a child was no longer available to her as an adult.

She tried to cling to the dream for a day but it dissipated like the morning mist, so she shook it off as a childish fantasy. Then she had to tell Wildchild.

Tamar gave her friend the sign in their secret language that she had something to say. The girls walked into the forest to sit on a log and open their hearts to each other.

Their language had evolved after they joined the Woodlanders. In the Herder camp, it incorporated grunts and hisses, imitations of the sounds of cows and horses, occasionally a whistle that sounded like the screech of an eagle, so that the other Herders couldn't always tell when they were communicating. Now they added clicks and chirrups, inspired by the over-active birds perched in the trees around them; but most words were formed with hand-signs, gestures and looks, now there was no reason to keep the language secret.

The vocabulary was truncated and there was a big overlap between explicit words and implicit body-language, which meant it was very difficult to hide feelings or to tell a lie. Their signs revealed deeper meanings that spoken words often obscured.

"Hey," Tamar gestured, using her special sign for Wildchild, which meant more or less "Tough Guy."

"Hey, Goldilocks," Wildchild signed back.

"About us?"

"Go on."

"You know I'll always love you, with all my heart?"

"Same here. Nothing will change my love for you."

"But I don't think we'll be bedmates when I'm eighteen."

"No, we won't. When did you realise?"

"Two days ago. You?"

"When I saw you at the Cloner Fair."

"What happened there?"

"I hadn't seen you for nearly a year and you weren't the same girl; no longer my little Goldilocks, the fragile twig I wanted to protect. You're now a woman, with a new strength and purpose. Our hearts as children are not the same hearts we have as adults."

"I know. So, no heartbreak and no regret?"

"No, none. And you, what changed for you? Why two days ago?"

"I changed," Tamar explained. "I grew but I hadn't realised it. Then I saw how Hazel's love satisfies you and I felt happy for you. I asked myself why I was happy and not jealous and the answer came to me: you and I love each other in a different way from how you and Hazel love each other."