Coming Home


by D Jordan Redhawk


Warning: This story depicts a love/sexual relationship between two consenting adult...uh...women. If you are under 18 years of age or if this type of story is illegal in the state or country in which you live, please do not read it. If depictions of this nature disturb you, you may wish to read something other than this story.

 

 

It was late, the early morning chill seeming to mute the thrum of motorcycles as they pulled into the encampment. Tents shared space with a handful of campers and vehicles with makeshift awnings. Embers glowed at several fires, only one metal drum flickering with flame at this hour.


Four bikes in various states of disrepair rumbled into view, easing single file between the improvised residences. One carried two riders, another holding a large duffle tied behind the rider. The lead bike stopped at the fire, the passenger dismounting. The tall man wore the dress greens of an Army soldier, his dark hair cropped close to his scalp. His grin was infectious, white teeth reflecting against dark skin.


Pulling up beside the first, the second rider left his bike running but put it on its kick stand. He climbed off and began unlashing the duffle. Compared to the soldier, he was scruffy and dangerous looking - his hair long and wild, clothes dirty and bedraggled. He finished his chore and dropped the duffle beside the soldier, giving the man a hug and a clap on the back before getting back onto his bike.


He and the remaining bikers eased their vehicles on through the encampment to welcome sleep bags.


“It’s good to see you home, Shake,” the first said, her voice low.


“Good to be home, Dusky,” the young man said, tugging at his regulation tie.


“You’re probably tired,” the leader of the Red Wolves said. “There’s a tent just over there that we set up for you. Tomorrow will be plenty of time to celebrate.”


The tie off, Shake tossed it into the flames. “See you in the morning then.”


“Sleep well,” Dusky said with a wink. “You’ll need all the rest you can get for tomorrow.”


Chuckling, Shake stepped forward and gave his pack leader a hug before heading to his temporary abode.


Dusky put the bike in first gear and rode toward the largest tent in the center of camp. It was made from an old parachute, held up by mismatched poles and tree limbs. The size was large enough to accommodate her small family as well as be the gathering place for the elders and the clan’s council.


Pulling up, she barely had time to shut the engine down and get the bike onto its stand before a redheaded woman darted from the tent. She wore battered cowboy boots and had a large blanket wrapped around her.


“Is he here? How does he look?”


Laughing, Dusky reached out and grabbed her lover, pulling her astride the motorcycle, facing her. “He’s here and looking good,” she said. “Tomorrow we celebrate his return and gift him in welcome.”


Shannon snuggled close, feeling strong arms encircle her body. “Good. I’ve missed him. So has Remy.”


“We all have,” Dusky agreed.


They sat in companionable silence, listening to the camp. Four years had passed since the Red Wolves’ almost total annihilation. Since then their numbers had increased from three to a hundred as they recruited among other natives wanting to return to their nomadic roots. Shake had spent the bulk of that time fulfilling his tribal obligation of a stint in the military.


A hundred souls surrounded them. Far more than Dusky had dreamed of after her family had all but been destroyed. In the distance, a baby cried, suddenly silenced as his mother took him to breast. At the kettle fire nearby, two warriors were awake for their turn at guard duty, heating water for instant coffee before going out to the perimeter. Someone snorted as they rolled over in sleep.


“I’ve been waiting for you all night,” Shannon said. “Remy told me a secret.”


“And what secret was that?” Dusky asked, an indulgent smile on her face.


“Today is your birthday.”


The dark woman frowned in calculation. “You’re right. It is.” She pulled back to look at the smaller woman closely. “But you know we don’t celebrate birthdays.”


“I know, I know. ‘Red Wolves prefer to acknowledge important milestones in life.’ I’ve heard it from Remy already.”


Dusky laughed and hugged her lover close.


“But in my culture, birthdays are important,” Shannon continued. Her voice dropped to a whisper. “And I got you a present.”


“Really?” Despite her attempt to remain the aloof leader of the Red Wolves, Dusky’s ears perked up. “Where is it?”


“Hiding.”


“Hiding, huh?” Her demeanor took a carnal turn and she eyed the redhead with a sultry expression. Dusky leaned forward and nuzzled the warm neck just above the blanket. “Hiding where?” she whispered.


Shannon swallowed at the sudden throb between her legs. “Um . . .” Lips distracted her, engulfing her earlobe. She inhaled deeply, trying to catch her breath. “You’ll . . . uh . . . just have to find it.”


“Hmmm.” Dusky smiled as the woman in her arms trembled. She pulled Shannon closer, raising blanket covered thighs until they straddled her waist. “Somewhere under here maybe?”


“Not tellin’,” the redhead muttered, gasping when teeth grazed her neck.


One arm supported Shannon as the dark woman eased a hand beneath the blanket. Cool fingertips met a warm, cloth covered belly. “Wouldn’t want you to,” she growled, taking her lover’s mouth in a ravenous kiss.


Shannon’s belly twisted urgently as she responded with equal fervor. Her legs automatically tightened, pressing her body closer as she opened the blanket. With sinful ease, her lover slipped inside and Shannon wrapped her arms around Dusky’s neck, covering them both.


“You’re wearing my shirt again,” Dusky observed, hidden hands sliding over the garment in question.


“It’s a nice shirt,” Shannon whispered. She concentrated on the dark skin beneath her lover’s ear, gently nipping. Hands caressed her body, sliding along her ribs, up behind her shoulders, fingernails scratching downward as she arched.


Dusky’s heart thumped as she played her lover with practiced ease, blood heating at the physical and verbal cues her touch created. “Where’s it hiding, Preciada?” she asked. “Here?” Her hands came forward to cup Shannon’s breasts, squeezing the flesh. In response, teeth that had been nibbling her neck suddenly bore down, a surprised groan reaching her ear. Hissing at the pleasure / pain, Dusky squeezed again, giving the swollen nipples a healthy pinch.


The redhead surged forward, tightening both arms and legs. She released Dusky’s throat, leaning her forehead in the crook of her lover’s neck, welcoming the rough touch.


“Not there then,” Dusky rumbled. She gave another squeeze for good measure, enjoying her lover’s response. “Can’t be sure though, Preciada. You can be a devious gringa upon occasion.” Tugging hard at the material, she heard the buttons pop, feeling two or three hit her belly. Then her fingers found heated flesh.


Shannon moaned, panting as her lover thoroughly explored familiar territory with devastating accuracy. She couldn’t help but press closer, her clit pulsing at the savage attack. “God, Dusky!” she said, voice ragged, not caring that they were in a public location.


Dusky gentled her touch, soothing the redhead, knowing it would frustrate Shannon further. “Where else could you be hiding it, Preciada?” she asked rhetorically, doubting Shannon could respond. Trailing her fingers down a firm belly, Dusky paused long enough to finish opening the shirt, the last of the buttons pelting her leather clad thighs. She was moderately surprised to find that Shannon was wearing nothing else but her boots. “What were you doing before I returned, Preciada?” she asked, curious.


With a shiver, Shannon barely managed to shrug as Dusky caressed her hips and thighs with firm purpose. Hands grasped her waist, pulling her up and forward, her swollen sex pressed tightly against Dusky’s belly.


“I’m waiting,” Dusky said. She leaned forward until Shannon had to hold tight or press against the gas tank of the motorcycle. The dark woman slowly ground against her lover’s clit. “What were you doing?”


Shannon tilted her hips for more contact, beginning a slow rhythm. Her lover accommodated her, one arm wrapped about the small of her back, muscled hips flexing beneath her legs. “Oh,” she panted, “I think you know.”


“You started without me, didn’t you?” At a grunt and a nod, Dusky sat back, stopping despite a disappointed curse from the redhead. She nuzzled Shannon’s throat, still holding her with one arm. Her free hand crept up her lover’s thigh. “Were you using one of your toys?” she asked, tracing an ear with her tongue.


Unable to catch her breath, wetness smearing Dusky’s leathers, Shannon moaned softly before shaking her head no.


“Fingers then?” The thought of Shannon lying in their sleep bag, smelling of sex as she masturbated was a heady one. Not waiting for a response, Dusky’s thumb brushed against wet curls, unerringly pressing against her lover’s erect clitoris. Shannon jumped and shuddered in her arms. Taking advantage, Dusky attacked full lips, demanding access.


Shannon groaned into her lover’s mouth, sucking on Dusky’s tongue as it explored. Long forgetting they were in the middle of a crowded camp, she released the blanket, burying her hands in thick, dark hair. Dusky leaned back on the bike, putting all of Shannon’s weight upon her. Shannon wasted no time. No longer bound by the blanket that draped over their bodies, she grabbed the seat back for support and began riding her lover.


Dusky watched Shannon’s face, illuminated by the nearby kettle fire and the dim gray light of dawn. Her hands caressed Shannon’s skin, falling to her hips to help her grind against her. When the redhead was fully concentrating on the feelings coursing through her body, Dusky reached behind her, swiftly entering Shannon with a single stroke.


Crying out at the sensation of fullness, Shannon redoubled her efforts. Her breathing was rapid, punctuated by low moans of pleasure as she fucked. The bike shook beneath them but she paid it no heed, all of her attention on the growing edge of orgasm.


“Come for me, Preciada,” Dusky urged, adding another finger and thrusting upwards. “Come for me!” She felt a sense of elation as her lover froze for a fraction of a second before calling out her name, her slick vagina clutching at Dusky’s fingers as Shannon obeyed her command.


Several moments passed as the redhead caught her breath. She whimpered once when Dusky pulled out, hips hitching against her lover. Finally, she sighed, returning to her surroundings, looking down to see Dusky’s smiling face. Someone coughed nearby and she suddenly blushed as she realized where they were.


“That was where you hid my present, wasn’t it?”


With a breathless chuckle, Shannon allowed herself to be distracted from her embarrassment and kissed the dark woman. “No. But let’s go inside and you can look some more.”


“Very good idea, Preciada.”

 

FINIS