Chapter 10

10

- Anter’az -

Alba takes all my attention, and I don’t see the danger before it’s practically on top of us. Only the moving shadow alerts me just before the deadly Big can dig its claws into the alien female.

I draw my sword, but I know it’ll be too late.

Instead I give Alba a hard shove in the chest, so that she falls into the stream behind her. Her spear clatters on the rock as she drops it.

The irox screeches in anger and disappointment, but its talons scratch the rock in the spot where Alba was just standing before it beats its wings and gets ready to turn around for another try.

But now my sword is out, so I can defend us. The only problem with this place is that there’s nowhere to hide — the cave opening can’t be reached quickly.

Alba splutters and splashes in the stream. The channel is so deep that it might be hard for her to climb out, but that also means the irox can’t get to her. That makes my job easier.

The irox circles me, being more careful because it can see my blade and it knows I’m ready for it.

As it suddenly dives on me, I slash the sword at it and hit its talon with a jolt that shakes my arm. The irox screeches in anger and turns to the side, away from my sword.

The sound almost drowns out a thin yell of fear. “Anter’az!”

Alba!

She’s not where I pushed her in! She’s being dragged along by the current, about to vanish into the mountain!

Forgetting the irox, I dive for her. Just as she reaches the hole in the rock where the stream enters it, I plunge my hand into the water. It’s found by both of hers, gripping it with the strength of panic.

I pull her up on dry land, coughing and spluttering, splashing water on the rock..

Getting back up, I heft the sword. But the irox is circling still, probably finding it hard to attack when we’re this close to the side of the hollow.

“I think you hit him,” Alba wheezes as she slowly gets back on her feet. “Now he’s afraid.”

“Stay here,” I tell her, worried she might wander out in the open.

The irox circles once more, then beats its wings and rises.

“He’s trying to trick us,” I growl. “Making it look as if he’s leaving.”

“It’s all right,” Alba coughs and puts a wet hand lightly on my arm. “We can wait.” She wipes wet hair out of her face.

I go over and pick up her spear, but the irox circles higher and finally gives off a last, furious screech before it flies on.

“That was close,” I breathe out as I hand Alba her spear. “I’ve never seen irox here. But it was going to happen at some point. There’s nothing to hide behind here, no trees.”

“It was close,” she agrees, “but you made sure no harm done. I needed a bath:”

I glance over at the hole in the rock. “I don’t know where that goes. But when it’s quiet, I can hear a waterfall somewhere deep down. Let’s get back to the cave.”

Grabbing Alba’s hand, I lead her up the side of the hollow to the opening.

“It should be safe to sit down here. We’re under that outcropping.” I point above us. “I sometimes sit here and just look.”

“Can we sit later?” she asks, her voice small. “I just need to…” She reaches out to me with both hands, and I clumsily replace my sword in its scabbard so I can embrace her.

“Sorry, I all wet,” she sniffs into my chest.

“Good,” I reply nonsensically because having her this close muddles my brain. She’s shivering with either fear or cold. Or both. “Better wet than taken by an irox.”

“You keep saving me,” she mutters. “I should have seen the irox myself.”

“They’re sneaky things. Don’t worry about it. I got you.”

She looks up at me. “You did. Again. But you sure the irox didn’t scratch me?”

I frown down at her. “It got close, but I’m sure it didn’t touch you at all—” Her little smile suddenly makes me understand. “But yes, of course it could have! In fact, I’m sure it did. And there may have been sharp pieces of rock under the water that could have scratched you. I have to check you very carefully.”

“And I have to get out of wet clothes,” Alba chirps, making a wet thwack as she slaps one hand on the hip of her dripping dress.

“It can dry in the sun,” I suggest, my hardness growing at the thought of seeing it come off her completely.

“Yes!” she says as if I made a brilliant observation. “It can! Do you mind?” She tugs at the shoulder part of the dress. “It clings when is wet.”

My loincloth has a big protrusion in the front as I take hold of the wet, stiff fabric at both her shoulders and lift straight up.

Alba wiggles her hips and helps. Hissing against her skin, the dress slowly slides up her body until there’s a wet shvupp and it lets go. Pulling it all the way off, I hold it by the shoulders while it drips on my toes. “Yes, it needs drying.”

“These do, too.” Alba pulls off the garment that covers her chest and hands it to me. Bending at the knees, she then slides the final little sliver of supple leather down her hips and off.

She gives me a mischievous smile and hangs the moist little garment on the rock hard, almost desperate bulge in my loincloth. “Now your clothes are wet, too. You should dry them.”

“I… should,” I manage as I take in her naked body. Sweet Ancestors, am I dreaming?

“I just sit here,” she chirps and sits down on the bare rock, trying to scrape the water off her skin and squeezing it out of her hair.

Arranging her dress and smaller garments on a boulder that’s warm from the sun, I take my sword belt off and drop my loincloth to the ground. I think I hear a small sigh behind me as I hang my perfectly dry clothes next to hers on the rock.

I bring the sword belt with me as I kneel next to her. “I’ll check you for injuries.”

“Yes, Anter’az,” Alba agrees and stretches her legs out in front of her, leaning back on straight arms. “How do you want me?”

Her words make my hard cock jerk and twitch. “Turn over.”

“Okay.” She obeys, showing me her magnificent behind, so female and alluring.

I run one trembling hand along her spine. “No obvious injuries here.”

Alba sighs, I think with pleasure. “Keep looking.”

I check her shoulder and upper back, but there’s nothing apart from small lines where her dress was pushing into the skin. “Looking healthy.”

“Mhm.”

I let my hand slide down along the spine, already fully aware that she’s perfectly fine. At the upper curve of her behind I let my hands rest, not sure if she wants?—

“All the way down,” she drawls. “Must be sure I not terribly wounded.”

All right. I let my hand follow the roundness and carefully examine her until I reach the thighs. She’s spread her legs enough that I can see her sweetness, half covered in dark hairs. The scent that reaches my nose is familiar from when I Worshipped her. And while my cock can’t get any harder, that scent makes it do its best.

“Should I turn back?” Alba asks.

“Yes.” The word comes out as a dry croak.

She slowly turns around on the rock, and I have the presence of mind to quickly grab a leather sheet and shove it under her to lie on.

She makes herself comfortable as she lies back, one knee casually bent. “Thank you.”

I begin my completely unnecessary inspection of her front. Sweet Ancestors, how soft she is! All the way, from her breasts to her stomach, there’s a luxurious, hairless layer of smooth mushiness over the muscle. And where the hair begins, it gets even softer.

I divert my attention down one leg, carefully stroking and prodding, finding the occasional scratch and scar, as well as the marks from where my Tinies bit her, but nothing that merits treatment. Her ankles look much the same as those of my tribesmen, having been scraped and scratched by plants and twigs for years, leaving many tiny marks. But still there’s nothing serious. That makes me happy, but I don’t want to end my examination.

Moving back upwards, I soften my touch. I would love to Worship her again, and perhaps she will let me.

“See where there’s hair?” Alba asks. “Check under. Injury might hide.”

“Of course,” I rasp as my fingers stroke the dense, dark hairs where her thighs come together. “We must search well.”

“Mhm,” Alba says and reaches for her pack, placing it under her head. Then she spreads her thighs, giving me the most wonderful view in the world. “Can you see?”

“I can see,” I confirm, barely able to speak. Her female wondrousness is open and presented before me, pink and glistening and incredible. The scent is strong, clean, and fresh. And immensely female.

I could stare at her for the rest of the day. But I also can’t resist tasting, so I start at the bottom and run my tongue all the way up to the point where I know she’s the most sensitive.

“ Ooh yeaaah…” Alba moans in her alien way. “ Kipgoin…”

I don’t know what she means, but they are plainly exclamations of pleasure, so I do it again, with less pressure.

She groans and bucks her hips. “Oh… oh… oh...”

Licking and stroking, I enjoy her womanly charms, noting how she reacts to my ideas and tests. She likes almost all of it, except when I use too much pressure. Well, that is easily changed..

The unreality of the whole thing strikes me Can this be real? Am I really Worshipping a woman? And the woman is… Alba? No, surely I have died. Surely those four rekh killed me and everything since has been the afterlife, with the Ancestors allowing me this for having lived the most honorable life I could.

“ Yeahhh leyek dat…” Alba groans, thrusting her hips up as if she wants more.

Well, if this is the afterlife, then I shall make the most of it.

“Do you know,” I ask, my voice barely carrying, “what it means to Mate?”

“Yes!” Alba whimpers, thankfully with a word I understand. “Mate me. Mate me!” She uselessly thrusts her hips into thin air.

I can’t ask for any clearer sign than that. I reposition myself, noting that Alba is peering at me with slitted eyes.

“Fast,” she groans. “Mate me.”

My cock is harder than it has ever been when I position the head at her pink entrance. The old shaman many years ago was clear: ‘She must be wet and slippery. That must all come from her. If she’s not, there’s a chance you are about to force yourself on her, the most dishonorable act, for which you will be cast out’.

I don’t need to check. Alba is so slippery that a part of my mind wonders if I could collect her juice in a jar and use it to make certain things run smoother.

I look down at her, wanting to make sure. “Ready to Mate?”