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.”