People of the Morning Star(17)
He tensed his muscular body and said, “That’s it. Slow now. Arch your back and tighten those muscles, girl.”
Where she straddled him, Spring Flower complied, her naked body flexing. Seven Skull Shield admired the view of her ripe breasts and pointed brown nipples. Her smooth skin glistened with a sheen of perspiration. The angles of her neck lay in shadow as she threw her head back and let waves of black hair tumble over her shoulders. He could just see her face at that magic moment when her breath caught and her expression pinched. He felt the vibrations of her tense body, and then cries erupted from deep in her throat as she strained up and down.
He needed no more encouragement. His own body trembled and burst in glorious delight. “Move, girl! Move!” he gasped.
Somehow she remembered what he’d told her, bouncing up and down like an animated rabbit.
Panting like a distance runner, she finally flopped onto his chest, and straightened her legs.
“I had no idea,” she whispered between gulped breaths. “I’ve been married to Fivefish for nearly a year. In all that time I’ve just had to lay there for a brief bit until he was done. But what we just did? Morning Star take me! My body exploded in stars!”
Seven Skull Shield pawed through the tangle of her black hair and reached down to grip her full bottom in his strong fingers. “Now, did I lie?”
“I didn’t believe you.” She pushed up, staring down into his eyes in wonder. “Fivefish has never made me feel like that. He’s … I mean … Is there something wrong with him? Maybe deformed? What he’s got down there…? Yours is so much more…”
“Not all men are equal,” he told her with a grin. “Me? I was just born exceptional in all ways. Now there’s a couple of more tricks we can explore—”
The voice from outside called, “Wife? Are you there? I could use some help with this wood.”
He had to hand it to her, she was off him and grabbing for her skirt before he swung his feet to the floor.
Seven Skull Shield sighed. So much for a pleasant afternoon. Stepping into his breechcloth, he inspected the cane wall behind him. No way to make a hole there. Whatever else he could say about Fivefish, the man built a solid house. It would have to be the front door.
“You’ve got to distract him,” he whispered to Spring Flower. “Just long enough for me to get out the door and out of sight around the house.”
Panic filled her large dark eyes. “Distract him?”
“Anything. Tell him you want him to see the neighbor’s ramada. Maybe there’s a cute little boy next door. Drag him off to show him a pot you want.”
“Wife?” Fivefish’s voice demanded. “Are you coming or do I have to do it all myself?”
She frantically tossed a coarse-woven cape around her shoulders. “Coming!”
She started for the door, then swung back, fear mixing with longing. “You will come back? Maybe next time he’s gone? I could learn so much more.”
“Yes, yes!” Seven Skull Shield hissed. “Now, go!”
She hurried out. Seven Skull Shield made a face as he crept up to the door and glanced out. Fivefish was about what he’d expected: a normal-looking Panther Clan man, muscular, average height. He was a part-time farmer when he wasn’t working for the clan on mound and temple constructions. He didn’t look like any kind of trouble Seven Skull Shield couldn’t handle.
Spring Flower was picking at the ropes that held together a bulky pack of firewood tied to the man’s back. Even as Seven Skull Shield watched, she undid the knot that let the whole thing cascade to the ground in a clatter.
Come on, girl. Grab him by the post and drag him away, will you?
“There’s a wonderful pot next door,” she said with too much enthusiasm. “You’ve really got to see it.”
Fivefish muttered, “I’ve better things to do than look at pots. Have we got any of those corncakes left? They’re just inside, aren’t they?”
“No!” She grabbed his hand, tugging. “Come look at Green Pollen’s ramada. She’s got a really cute little boy.”
Fivefish stopped short, face screwing up. “Green Pollen has two daughters. What’s the matter with you?”
Seven Skull Shield rolled his eyes. Spring Flower might have been young, frustrated, and voluptuous; where her husband was apparently “short” in one way, she was obviously severely lacking in another. Then again, he hadn’t been charmed by her quick wit.
“You’ll come now!” she insisted, stamping a foot.
“I’m hungry, and … Wait. Why are you looking so scared?”