The Brave

And the things she was doing to draw that pleasure out...well! Wind continued to dip in and out of Sally, going faster and deeper than she had been moments before. She would occasionally stop to spin her fingers around or even twiddle them within the blonde, making her squirm and moan in different, beautiful ways depending on where she was being pushed and prodded, like some sort of sexual puppet.

At one point Wind pushed up against a firm spot of vaginal flesh that made Sally jump like she'd been struck by lighting. "Aw SHIT," she screamed. After a few moments to recover, she seethed, "Do that again!"

She did.

"OH!" Sally's hands shot up to her head. "Jeeeesssus that's good! Keep hittin' me there!"

She didn't—at least, not at first. Much to Sally's frustration, she started teasing around the area, giving only light taps to spot itself to keep Sally awake, assure her that she hadn't forgotten where she was supposed to go. Back to the grind: In and out, in and out. Slowly, Wind began to sink closer to Sally's body.

"Heeeeeeeeeeee..." Wind whispered.

Sally was a little confused—He who? What?—but Wind was starting to pick up the pace with her fingering.

Again she whispered, "Heeeeeeeeeeee...heeeeeeeeeeee..." Her face, closing in quickly, was stern and focused.

And again Sally asked herself, No really, what is she talking about?

It must have shown on the blonde's face. "Heeeeeeeeeeee," she whispered, and then translated, "Come for meeeeee..." right as she redoubled her attack on Sally's g-spot.

Sally gasped, her love's intentions suddenly and viciously clear, and gasped and gasped again.

"Hi..." Wind had been saying, and was repeating more frequently. "Hiiiiiiii, hiiiiiiii, hiiiiiiiiyu!" Wind suddenly swiped a thumb over Sally's clit and the blonde nearly broke herself in two.

"OH MY WORD," she shouted into the night sky before laughing maniacally, which only encouraged Wind to pin her by the shoulder as she went harder and faster, slamming her fingers into her lover's pussy, rubbing back and forth on her clit, the sounds from below going from thwick-thwick-thwick to SCHLICK-SCHLICK-SCHLICK as skeine fluid trickled out the way water would when a river's dam was moments from failing.

And through it all, Wind's gaze remained ever sharp and focused, watching her yellow-haired cante skuye squirm and bend underneath while the only change to the native's expression was the proud, smoldering grin of someone moments from sweet victory as she chanted "Hiyu! Hiyu! Hiyu! Hiyu!" as her hips thrusted up and down in time with the words.

Then Sally screamed out to the stars as her body seized up and her pussy clamped down on Wind's fingers and thrust her chest up and she threw an arm around her love, her powerful, beautiful love, as her completion crashed over her again and again and warmth radiated through her body. Eventually she settled down, prompting Wind to lean down all the way and kiss her again, withdrawing her fingers as they swapped spit.

When they broke, Sally caught the thick scent of her lust drawing near and saw the two sopping, sticky fingers that had been within her, so she leaned up to get at them. Instinctively, Wind pulled them back. She was planning to clean them off, a little show before she sank down to devour Sally's body and clean up the mess that was made. It took only a moment for Wind to realize what Sally wanted to do and how hot the thought of it was.

"Eya!" she exclaimed, her smolder giving way to a bright smile, and offered Sally her index finger, which she took into her mouth and cleaned off with a pop and a satisfied sigh. Afterwards, Wind put both fingers in her own mouth, savoring the mingling tastes of Sally's arousal and spit, and then leaned down to get more of it from her kiss.

"So now are you gonna wash me?" Sally asked after their kiss, batting her eyes.

"Yes," said Wind. After one last peck of the lips, the native slid her tongue down and around her lover's body, taking gentle licks of her collarbone and armpits before circling around and across and between her breasts and suckling at her nipples. Wind took her time here, cradling Sally's heavy, luscious tits as she gently bit down on one stiff nub while tweaking the other, making Sally pant hold Wind's head close, entangling her hand within the native's scalp, teasing out her hair.

Drifting further downward, Wind planted a sweet kiss on Sally's bullet wound, then another as if to thank it for not killing her, then moved to turn her tongue within Sally's navel. After Wind dragged her tongue down through the blonde's bush, she pulled back to admire Sally's entrance for a moment, sopping and engorged and ready for more. "Beautiful," she muttered, and then closed in, letting her hands roam across the blonde's shapely body as she fed on her center.

What Sally couldn't stop thinking about, between the waves of lust and pleasure she felt as Wind went about her task, was how different this felt. If the Wind that fingered her was the quiet, unstoppable gunwoman looking to slake her lust, the Wind that licked her was the dear friend who held her after a nightmare, who shared her knowledge and joked with her at the bar, who cared for her and prayed for her to pull away from brink of death, regardless of whether she thought it would work.

This woman was perfect. For a moment, she wondered how the hell she managed to end up with her.

Was she even good enough to keep her?

Before she could think about this too much, a tweak of her nipple timed with a swipe of her clit launched Sally over the edge, sending her gliding back down to Earth. It was a gentle come, as opposed to her body-breaking blowout minutes before, but given the mood, it was no less satisfying.

Wind crawled back up Sally, jaw soaked with emissions, and Sally took her face in hands and gently cleaned her off before kissing her. "God damn you, Wind," said Sally, "Ain't no way I can live up to that."

She laughed. "It'll be enough for you to try, skuye."

Sally disagreed, but time argued was time wasted, and if she couldn't be good enough for this goddess she was going to damn well show her how much she loved being in her presence, and she was going to start with something she learned from her husband.

Sally didn't lick her way down Wind; instead, she went directly face-to-nethers with her. It was scary for someone who wasn't inclined to face unknowns head-on, but she was unsure that she could replicate Wind's tender authority or her insistent worship. So she decided to try and replicate Sam, and Sam was a taker.

Wind was already wet enough for what Sally wanted to do, but she couldn't resist slipping the tip of her tongue across one of her hairy folds, rewarding the blonde with a sharp, pleasant intake of breath. As for Wind's taste, it was different from hers—more earthy than tangy, only a little sweet.

"Oh, you taste so good," said Sally, and Wind giggled her appreciation. "I wanna taste it all over you," she added, and started stroking her hand up and down her lover's slit, loading her fingers up with her juices, before dragging it over her clit and up her body to her sternum. Wind watched with curiosity, only for her head to drop back in delight when Sally started licking it all up, and then moaned softly when Sally blew her breath back down the trail of saliva she left, tickling her nerves.

More fingering, more fluid. This time Sally drew Wind's flavor upwards, then out across the underside of her left breast, then up and out under the right.

"Mmmmmmm," she moaned, as Sally's tongue followed the path.

"Ahh! Ahhhhhh..." she breathed, as Sally's breath followed it back.

Sally would trace patterns across the native's abs, breasts, neck, collarbone, arms. She started stalling, making her wonder where she'd go next before making sharp turns or loops or spirals that her tongue would follow exactly. Her hand primed the skin, her tongue set it ablaze, her breath cooled it down. At one point, Sally mixed it up by going down each of Wind's toned legs, spiraling around her knees and reaching down to her toes, and by the time she was finished, Wind was holding a hand to her head as if trying to stop her mind from blowing apart, and Sally had never felt more proud in her life.

She just wished she could thrust into her. There was a twinge in her pussy that was aching for another come, turned on by all the little ways Wind had squirmed and moaned under her attentions, but she could feel herself getting tired, and she wasn't about to leave her love on the edge.

The idea just popped into her mind. It seemed complicated...but dammit, she had to try.

Sally lifted Wind's right leg up, holding it, kissing her perfectly shaped calf, sliding her legs down either side of Wind's prone body. Wind began to sit up, unsure of what Sally was doing, and Sally immediately missed the image of her love on the ground while the firelight flickered upon her fit, bronze body, so Sally gently ordered her to lay back. "I just wanna try somethin'," she said. "If it don't work, I'll lick you off, promise."

Soon after Wind said "Okay," Sally's pussy pushed up against Wind's, giving her a nice jolt and little more.

"You comfortable?" asked Sally.

"I'm not uncomfortable," said Wind, still a little confused.

"Okay," said Sally, still a little worried, still hoping this worked, before she let her instincts take over and thrust against her love's slit.

"Ooh, shit," said Wind, tingly from the contact down below, enhanced by the image of her majestic cante skuye towering up above.

Sally thrust again, enjoying the way Wind's body bounced from the motion, but still unsure if she was enjoying it. She thrust again, and again, building into a nice steady pace before asking "Is this okay?"

"Oh yeah."

"Can I go faster?"

"Hell yeah."

And she did, leaning into Wind's space a bit more as she drove into her. Again, the contact was pleasant enough, but it was the imagery that made it work. Below her, Sally saw both an incredible warrior willingly submitting to her attentions and a dear friend who was comforted by her presence. Above her, Wind saw a majestic being who was riding her like a...like a...

"Wait!" Sally stopped what she was doing and Wind quickly reached for her folded pile of clothes, grabbing the black Stetson hat on top of them. She reached up and placed it on Sally's head. Sally got the idea right away, and laughed at the thought of what she must look like. "Oh, that's amazing," gasped Wind, laying back, looking over her friend. "Harder, do it harder."

So Sally plowed full speed ahead and Wind reached down and started diddling herself, the both of them growing short of breath, the both of them ready to die like this if that was what it took. "Atta girl," said Sally, playing into the cowpoke image Wind had crafted for her. Remembering the voice that guided her back to life, she growled "Sing for me, baby."

Wind cried out in beautiful orgasmic song.

"That's it," Sally cried, on the verge herself, "lemme hear that beautiful voice."

She cried out another blissful note.

"I love it when you sing for me, my Brave."

She howled into the starry night, howled for her cante skuye, but she felt far from done, she thought she could reach another level if she just did one thing, if she just...

Wind pulled her leg free from Sally's grip and quickly sat up, grinding back into Sally's grind, tossing her thick hair over her shoulder. Sally embraced Wind with one hand, and Wind wrapped her hair around the back of Sally's neck, pulling her in even closer until their foreheads touched and all they could see were each other's eyes, wide and overwhelmed and close to tears. Her free hand reached down to stroke Sally's clit, and Sally used her free hand to return the favor.

"Fuck me!" cried Wind in a whisper that barely overcame Sally's ragged breaths.

"Unnnnghhh," Sally cried back, grinding harder, diddling faster.

"Fuck me, Sally!" she pleaded again with all her heart, matching her lover's efforts.

"UNNNNnnghhh," Sally pushed further, wanting nothing more than to hear and feel every minute detail of her love's arrival ripple through her body.

"Fuck me, skuye, PLEASE!" Wind howled out with the last of her breath before she was overcome.

"UNNNNAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHH" The hat fell from Sally's head.

"OHHHHHHHHHHHHHNNNNNNNNNNN"

They screamed. They screamed their names, they screamed their bliss, they screamed their love, all while holding each other tight, maybe tighter still, shaking in each other's arms and hands before Sally collapsed, taking Wind into her breast.

They took a few minutes to catch their breaths. The fire crackled. The river trickled. The breeze blew and the frogs sang and that one coyote out in the distance made its presence known, and nothing else, not their past, not their future, neither sin nor saintly deed seemed to exist. In this moment, everything made sense, nothing was wrong.

"Sorry," Sally muttered eventually. "Don't think I can give you another one 'n make it more even."

"Three good comes for the best come of my life?" Wind reached up and stroked her face. "I'd say we're even. Rest, skuye."

"I love you," said Sally, fading fast.

Wind moved up and gave her a kiss on the lips. "I love you too."

Wind wanted to sleep too, but forced herself to do some work first; namely, wiping Sally's wound dry, applying some more therapeutic honey, and wrapping it back up with a fresh bandage. In the midst of this, she had a brainstorm about her poem, and grabbed her journal to write it down. Still not great...but better. Maybe not even that embarrassing.

Falling off back on top of Sally's breast, she had a dream of her in a vibrant green field, standing in the doorway of a dilapidated house that she seemed to know well. Perched on the sill of the rightmost second floor window was a small brown bird with a powerful song, the only sound that could be heard. It was an eerie sight, yet calm, and peaceful.

Sally was frowning, but when she heard the bird's song, she smiled.

XI. - Not Dark Ye

Sally woke up like she had hoped she'd wake up; with Wind in her arms, snoozing contently on her breast. The native was drooling a little bit from her mouth, which Sally thought was just adorable.

The fire had burned itself out, and part of her wanted to try her hand at fishing for once, give her love a break now that she felt like she had her strength back. The only problem, of course, was that if the blonde moved, she'd wake her up, and, well, she didn't quite tire of watching her sleep just yet.

Of course, as soon as she thought that, she saw a little journal at her side, a pencil between its pages. Curiosity overwhelmed her; she just had to look.

It appeared to be a workbook of some sort; she didn't know Wind's handwriting, but she assumed it was hers. Sally leafed through pages of what looked like rough, mostly unfinished poetry; she couldn't really tell whether or not it was any good, but it was certainly interesting.

The very first page had a list of eight names, all crossed off with causes of death listed next to them. Garrick's was at the top; she'd written "Shot in liver, throat slashed, scalped." The list described all kinds of awfulness; one got hung and disemboweled (the man who killed her family, she presumed), one lost his hand to her tomahawk before it found his neck. One poor bastard got dragged behind a horse running at high speed. Wind clearly did not mess around. Good for her, Sally thought.

Yet for each man on Wind's kill list, there was a poem, all of them seeming to express a deep pain in her conscience. She was a little bit delighted to see that Garrick's poem was about Hannah Duston, but at the same time, it seemed to ask genuine, emphatic questions about what had to break inside this woman to murder so many innocents among the guilty, and whether or not it ate at her to see her anger, born from such personal, horrible pain, be celebrated as a crusade against a general populace. It was an...interesting point of view for a native woman, to be sure, but it made sense given the parallels to her own story.

Then Sally turned the page and found that Wind had given the blonde an entry of her own.

Of course her stomach twisted with the natural concerns one would have at finding their name in a book of the horribly murdered, but then she realized Wind wouldn't have gone through the trouble of saving her if she was just going to kill her later. And any lingering concerns were erased when she actually read the short poem, which...

...wow.

...Wow.

"Oh, no." Wind was awake, looking at Sally with wide, guilty eyes.

"Sorry!" yelped Sally, the journal flying out of her hand. "I mean, no, it's okay, I'm not about to run screamin', this just seemed very personal an' I wasn't thinkin' when I grabbed it and I'm sorry!"

Wind rolled onto her back and exhaled, heart still racing. "All right," she said. "No, as long as you don't need to throw up, it's fine."

"Of course it's fine! Come here!" Sally pulled Wind back to hold and kiss her, and the native could feel her heartrate drop in seconds. "Not for nothin'," she said, "you know I ain't much for poetry, but I found it fascinatin'. I didn't know you struggled with this stuff too. Explains a lot, actually."

Wind nodded. It didn't seem like she had much to say about it, which Sally understood, at least in part.

Still, she was obligated to tell her, "I read the one about me, too." Wind looked up to Sally, clearly embarrassed, but she had to know. "I thought it was beautiful."

"It was silly," she blushed.

"Nah, it was beautiful," insisted Sally, stroking the raven hair she couldn't get enough of. "If you're holdin' yourself up against those professional-type poets, I can see where it'd fall short. But I don't need to know poetry to know a bit about who you are, and as someone who knows as much, I think it was the most beautiful thing anyone's ever said about me. Feels wrong to thank you when I didn't have your permission...but I'm glad I read it."

Wind rolled back and raised her hands up to her head—Sally couldn't help but think she looked so cute like this—contemplating a thought that had come over her. She then reached for the journal, flipped to Sally's poem, then tore it out of the book, folding it up and securing it under a rock. She then tossed the book into the fire pit, to be burned with their next fire.

Wind scooched up to Sally and kissed her on the cheek, and Sally reached down for Wind's hand in turn, squeezing it in support. "I'm glad you read it too," said Wind. "Even if it doesn't make me very mysterious anymore."

"I do like you mysterious," Sally admitted. "I like you strong, too. I also like you smart, 'n funny, 'n creative. And I definitely like you when you're just like this, cuddled up naked 'n smilin' 'n happy." She gave her love a kiss on her forehead and smiled at her. "I love every side a' you, Brave Wind. Don't you worry 'bout losin' one of 'em."

Sally's smile reminded Wind of the one she had in her dream. Part of her dreaded asking; she knew how it was likely to sound. But something told her that Sally needed to do this anyway, and that it would only be a matter of time before she wanted to go back. "Hey," said Wind. "You said you would follow me anywhere. Is that true?"

"Sure." Sally didn't blink.

"Well, I had a strange dream last night," said Wind. "Do you think you could lead me somewhere?"

* * * * *

Sally only needed one more night to recover. One more night for her and Wind to say goodbye to this magical campsite that seemed to erase the greater world, at least for the moment, and allowed them to just be. When they broke it down, it was not without entertaining the wild idea of just staying there forever. But they figured someone likely working for H.M. Steedle or perhaps even some Pinkertons would find them there if they stayed long enough, Navajo land or not. Besides, they had to tire of fish eventually.