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We need more wood.
As it is, the wood in the forest will be wet, and I won’t be able to put it in the cache above the cave for fear it would rot before it could be used. We have also lost days of work at a crucial time. This means no more wood has been gathered, no more rabbits or fish have been caught, and no more plants have been added to our baskets.
At least we have worked on making a baby.
A lot.
I smile and walk back in to find my mate cooking, using her clay pots and making flowing, bird-like noises. There is rhythm to the sounds, and one sound flows into the next without pause. She just started doing this the prior day, and I find it much more agreeable than the noise she usually makes.
I go to her side and sit, resting my head on her shoulder and watching her mix things together, coming up with much more flavorful foods than I ever had on my own. I run my nose against her neck and sigh, content.
Even with the work of chopping the soggy wood, it’s too cold to remove my wrap.
The rain has finally stopped, but we have been left with temperatures that are enough to freeze the ground in the morning, and the afternoon sun does little to warm it up. Under the cover of the pine trees where the sun does not reach, the cold is bitter, but at least the wind is minimized.
Beh is near a small clearing of brush, working diligently.
I have no idea what she is trying to do and have already given up trying to get her to help me with the wood even though I made another flint axe the right size for her smaller hands. She is determined to do whatever it is she is doing instead. All I know for sure is that she hauled one of the old furs all the way down here even though it had been recently washed in the lake along with everything else.
Kneeling in front of a large log on the ground, I’m focused on my work and not paying close attention to her as she starts making a lot of loud noises. The sounds are not the alarming ones but the ones she seems to make when she is happy about something, and there is even some laughing accompanying them. I pay no attention because I’m almost done chopping through the large piece of wood on the ground in front of me, and I don’t want to break the rhythm. I’m focusing hard, and I’m briefly startled when Beh steps right up in front of me to drop a pile of fur and sticks at my feet.
I glance up at her, somewhat annoyed by the interruption, and then down at the pile. Beh continues to make excited noises as she kneels down and spreads out the hide on the sides of which she has attached two long poles. When I look closer, I can see she has cut strips of leather, shoved them through holes in the hide, and then wrapped the straps around the poles to hold it all together. The thick branches are long, and the ends of the poles stick out farther than the hide itself.
I haven’t the slightest idea what it is supposed to be.
I take a long breath, huff it out of my nose, and go back to chopping.
Beh makes more noises, which I try to ignore as I finish with the wood. The damp chips clinging to my arm are itchy, and I just want to get this done and return to the cave with at least a little bit of wood to try to dry by the fire. The cold is an indication of how little time we really have left, and now that I have a mate to protect, it would not do to have me freeze to death looking for wood in the snow instead of keeping her warm in our furs.
“Ehd!”
I keep chopping.
“Ehd!”
I wipe my forehead as I break through the piece I have been working on and go on to the next log.
“EHD!”
I finally glance up, and Beh’s eyes blaze down at me. She makes a lot more noise and points down to the sticks and hide again.
She’s covered it with the chopped wood.
The entire hide holds not just what I have cut up but also some of the branches that were lying around loose and work well for rekindling the morning coals. On the hide is far more wood than either of us can carry in many trips back to the cave. Beh reaches down and grasps the ends of the two sticks on one side of the hide and stands—raising the whole thing off the ground. The hide does not touch at all—just the other two ends of the branches. She takes a couple of steps backwards, and the whole pile moves with her.
Now I understand what she’s been doing, and my eyes open wide at her discovery. I stand and approach her, reaching out to run my hand along one of the long poles. Beh smiles and makes more sounds as she drags it a little farther.
I catch up to her and take the ends of the poles in my own hands. I lift the whole thing up a little, and I can hardly believe how light it is. There has to be something wrong with the wood we’ve gathered. Maybe it’s hollow.
I check over the pieces even though I know they weren’t hollow when I chopped them up. They are solid and heavy. I bend down and try to pick up the hide full of logs, but I can barely move it! I go back to the ends of the sticks and grasp them tightly before pulling it all backwards.
It moves so easily!
Turning to my mate, I drop the sticks and wrap my arms around her shoulders in thanks.
With Beh’s hide on a stick, we get all the wood we need hauled back to the cave that day. We even have enough time for me to reset the rabbit traps, collect water, reeds, and cattails by the lake, and still return to the warmth of the cave before nightfall.
I watch Beh with her clay pots and see her with different eyes than I saw her with the previous evening. How did she know to make such things as pots from clay and a way of carrying things I have never seen before or even considered? Now that I have seen it, it seems a natural and easy thing, but I don’t think I ever would have thought of it on my own.
Rubbing at her shoulders and back and touching my nose to the side of her face and neck, I try to show her my gratitude. I use her wood carving to help her untangle her hair but pull back when she tries to do the same for me.
I want to do everything I can for her.
That night, I wait for her to call my name-sound over and over again in pleasure before I finally enter her. When I am done, I bring her food and water and then hold her tight to my chest as she sleeps. The next day, I take grasses from the field and weave them into a new mat for Beh, though it isn’t a very nice one; at least it is not falling apart like the old one.
Beh watches me and sometime shakes her head back and forth with a little smile on her face. I think she is pleased. I hope she is. During the day, we use her hide on a stick for gathering. Every night, I touch her gently with my hands and my nose. She brings her lips to mine, and I feel her pleasure over and over before I place myself inside of her.
I would have done anything for her before simply because she was mine to protect and because I wanted to put a baby inside of her, but her hide on a stick has changed so much. I’m now in awe of her in a way that is far beyond her beauty and willingness to allow me to provide for her and take me inside of her. Previously when we walked to the lake, there was only time for one trip in a day. We would often leave some things behind simply because we could not carry them back. With the hide on a stick, I can catch many more fish to dry, and Beh can bring her clay back to the cave to finish. We work harder and faster at the water’s edge to pull up cattails and even collect nutgrasses, mushrooms, and grain on the way back.
No matter what we load onto the hide on a stick, I can still pick it up and carry it—with far more than I ever could have carried in my arms. I don’t understand it at all. It’s not just a matter of balance. With Beh’s hide on a stick, I can actually lift more weight than I can without it.
It’s puzzling and wonderful.
Aside from that, we can place scraps of hide on the larger one and use it to hold the grain and other smaller plants as we gather them, instead of having to hold them while we gather. This has made collecting grain especially easy, and we can collect more grain in a single trip.
In just three days, we are almost completely prepared for winter.
After we eat our final
meal of the night, I begin to pamper my mate again, starting with her hair. I am especially thankful because after she washed her hair in the lake, she decided it was too cold to get in the water, and I was spared a bath. Her hair is dry and doesn’t have many tangles, but I work on it anyway. I enjoy touching it.
Soon, we move to our furs, and I take her into my arms. Our mouths meet, and I find her soft breasts and then the folds between her legs. Her knees fall away from each other, and her hips buck against my fingers as they slide in and out of her. She cries my name-sound, shudders, and drops into the furs.
My breath hurried, I roll over between her legs to position myself, but Beh’s hand on my chest stops me. There is light in her eyes and a small grin on her face as she pushes me off of her and onto my back. I lay there confused as her fingers brush the hair from my forehead and cheeks, spreading it out on the furs behind me before her hands runs down my neck and over my shoulders.
My eyes drift closed, and I shiver as her fingers run over the length of my body, stopping at my waist and running back up again. She massages my shoulders and arms, and I look up at her, wanting her to know she did not need to do this—I was already so grateful to her and didn’t need reciprocation. She gazes back down at me, her eyes soft as she gently strokes my cheek.
Her smile grows larger as she raises herself up and tosses one of her legs over my body, straddling my waist. I look up at her, confused for a moment, but then immediately distracted as she sits straight up and raises her arms over her head and up through her hair. The affect lifts her breasts high as her hair cascades over her arms and shoulders.
“Hoh!” I can barely breathe, and it has nothing to do with her sitting on my stomach.
Beh leans over a little, and her breasts hang in front of me like the most tempting of fruit. I reach for them, and I am rewarded with her groan of pleasure. She leans down farther to press her lips to mine, her tongue gaining entrance into my mouth as her hips slip lower. I can feel my hardened penis between her legs, and she moves back and forth, coating it in her slick wetness.
What other ways could I try to put a baby inside of her?
I feel her hand wrap around my shaft and hold it pointed up, away from my body. She raises herself higher on her knees, and all I can do is stare wide-eyed at her as she positions me at her entrance and slowly lowers herself onto me.
My chest seizes, and I cannot breathe. Along with my head against the furs, my eyes roll back. I would cry out if I could, but no sound escapes me. I feel her rise up, only to lower her body again, burying my length inside her channel.
When my eyes open, my breath escapes in a rush at the sight of her. Her hands rest on my chest as she raises and lowers herself over me. My hands, I realize, are motionless against her breasts, and I quickly rectify this with my caresses. She moans, tightens around me, and my hips respond in reflex—pushing up against her in an attempt to get deeper.
Beh begins to move faster, her motions quickening as her breasts bounce in my hands. I push up with my hips, arching my back and pushing up with my heels, but it isn’t enough. My hands release her breasts and tightly grip her hips.
My muscles strain to lift and lower her as quickly as I can, the friction relieving me of all other sensation as I push into her repeatedly. She leans over me, her hot breath on my shoulder as she matches my movements, and the change in angle is too much. The pressure builds and quickly ignites fires within me, and I scream out for her as I fill her body.
Beh continues on, stroking slowly a few more times as I finish with a shudder, and then she lays her head against my shoulder.
Finally, I wrap my arms around her as my mind revels in how incredible she is, and my exhausted body falls into sleep.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
I lay propped up on one elbow and look down at my mate, trying to understand.
Every time I touched her today, she pushed my hand away. Now she sleeps before I have been inside of her, my advances again refused. It is the first time we have not come together before sleep since the last time she was bleeding.
I don’t understand, and my chest hurts.
She didn’t seem angry with me or upset about anything. She had just gently taken my hand and moved it away when I tried to reach for her, making the no sound at the same time.
Now she’s sleeping quietly, and I can at least wrap my arm around her waist and hold her against me. I consider putting myself inside of her while she sleeps, but every time I have tried that in the past, she has woken up. I’m afraid if I make another attempt, she won’t be happy with me.
She rolls to her side, exposing her back to me. I move up against it to give her more warmth, pulling the fur around us at the same time. The fire is burning brightly still, and the cave is warm, but winter will be upon us very soon.
I lay my head down next to hers and inhale the scent of her hair. My nose touches her neck, and I close my eyes to begin a nearly sleepless night.
The next day is no different.
Neither is the next night.
I try everything to appease her. I make foot coverings out of rabbit fur to give to her, make her a new flint knife, and I give her all the very best pieces of meat from our dinner. When we are at the lake, I even immerse myself in the frigid water because I know it is her preference.
Nothing works.
On the following night, I hold her to me, press my lips to her neck, and look into her eyes as she touches me with her hand. Even though I want to hold out, she strokes me until I moan and spill on the ground. She won’t let me touch her between her legs though she isn’t bleeding.
I huff, angry with myself for not lasting longer when she gripped me. I look up to her and feel my chest clench. She smiles at me, but her eyes are sad. Whimpering softly, I pull her into my arms.
“Khiizz?”
She makes sounds with her mouth, and I try to silence her with my lips. Her hands grip my shoulders, pushing against me a little before I feel her relax and open her mouth. I move down her chin and throat—just as she has done to me before—but she stops me.