Stormfeather Ch. 07

Winky had gotten onto the porch and was sniffing around curiously, but when Amy noticed her stillness, she was a bit shocked to find her new companion sitting almost next to her and staring at him herself.

"He's something, isn't he?" she asked quietly as they watched him. Winky had no answer other than to alternate her gaze from one to the other of them. Finally, she sank down next to Amy and stared at Steomfeather.

"I know, honey," she grinned at the young wolf as she ruffled the fur behind an ear, "he does the same thing to me about every other minute."

Amy remembered the bowl which had held the cut-up fish pieces. Amy had a single egg in the pocket of her shirt.

"I still have one surprise for you, Winky. I've saved you a raw egg," she said as she broke the shell to empty the egg into the bowl and then placed it in front of the animal. Winky looked at the egg and then at Amy, but didn't think about it for very long before she began to lap it up.

"There you go. I wanted you to have a raw one. It'll do your skin and fur a bit of good."

He brought over a few folded deer hides and laid them out. Amy reached over and touched the supple leather. There was a scent to them that she couldn't place and the color was a bit on the golden side. She thought it curious, since she knew that deerskin tans almost white. "This is different," she remarked, "but it looks like deer to me".

"It is deerskin," he said. "But deerskin gets stiff and ..." he stopped to search for the word, "brittle once it has gotten wet. You have to rub something into it to protect it for when it gets wet. Where I come from, we used bear grease for this. I did what they do here. I rubbed these with pollen and I heated them very gently to melt it in. It gives this color, but it makes the skin stay soft after it gets wet and then dries so that anything made from it will last longer. If you would stand up for me, I will see how big to make things around your waist."

Amy stood up and he circled her waist with a thin strip of hide, and then marked the length that he needed with a piece of charcoal. He began to measure her long legs for length, but when he held up a piece of hide to mark it, she stopped him, "This is to measure for the leggings, right?"

He nodded, and she asked, "Would it be better if they were fit closer or looser?"

He shrugged, "First, they must be comfortable, so I must allow your knees room to bend, but if they are too loose, they will make a bit more noise when you walk quickly or run. I think you ask this because you want them close but not tight."

She nodded, "I was thinking that if you measure me with these pants on, you might get them too loose. I'll take these off if it helps you."

"Not just yet, he smiled, "I have enough to make other things for you first. Please sit and we can watch your winky friend as I work."

"I can do better than that and make us more coffee if you'd like."

He nodded with a smile and kept working. Before long he'd made her two breechcloths, one fairly long and one shorter. A next one was shorter still, but before she could ask, he told her it was more of an undergarment for cold weather and for when she menstruated.

She admired his thoughtfulness as he spoke without discomfort. "I do not know what you use, but where I am from, the women use cleaned and dried moss for this. I allowed some space for whatever you think is best for what you need."

"Thank you, Arn," she said, "I have to say that I'm surprised that you'd think of it."

He smiled a little, but his voice remained practical, "You said that I now have a woman in my life. It has been a long time, but it means that I must think of these things." His smile turned to a gentle smirk, "I am trying to figure out the care and feeding of a woman, and –"

"Very funny," Amy smirked back at him, but he only motioned back at her with the deerskin, "This was woman's work in my tribe, but I do not see it this way. I like making things for you, and it makes me feel good to take care of you where I can. For certain, any woman of the tribes anywhere here could do this better than I can and make you very beautiful clothes. My poor skill comes from making things for myself, but I hope that I can get better. Please try them."

"My mother taught me to sew and I've made clothing before, but I want to learn to make things like this too," Amy said, "Anything you make for me is fine and I'd be happy to wear it."

Amy took the garments inside and spread them on the bed. She thought for a minute about him and then smiled to herself.

He looked up when she came back few minutes later to show him how one of them fit. Aside from her moccasins and her shirt, the shorter of the outer breechcloths was all that she wore. Amy couldn't help her laugh when she saw his expression.

"You can measure me for the leggings now," she said sweetly.

It turned into something of a trial for both of them as he knelt with her standing before him. He fought the urge to caress her legs, among other things, and Amy found herself thrilling from each light touch of his hands and then almost aching for the next. Her mind was brimming with pleasure that he was making these things for her and her heart brimmed with its own hope that this would take longer than it needed to. When he measured near where the tops of the leggings would end, she was torn between feeling slightly ticklish and a slight worry about the arousal that she was beginning to feel overtaking her.

It was an almost exquisite little bit of torture to her. That he was doing this for her felt to her as though it was an important step to him that she become his woman – something that she now wanted to be more than anything, and so she wanted the leggings finished for that reason as well as the practicality of them. And yet she yearned for his touches to turn in the direction that would end in the act that the term signified.

His hands slid up her thighs under the bottom edge of her shirt to lightly touch the sides of her flanks. Amy successfully fought off the sigh that she felt, but when he gently tightened his grasp, her slight gasp escaped her before she even knew it was there.

"Please turn to face me," he said, sounding slightly hoarse. Amy liked the sound of that. It told her that he faced his own struggles here. He'd told her that he found her beautiful. She couldn't understand how he saw her that way, but she sure wasn't about to try to change his mind. She did as he asked, and as he slid the strip of leather that he was using to get the measurement higher, she shifted her weight to move her long and willowy legs a bit farther apart to give his hand room. Stormfeather found the bottom of her shirt in his way, but did his best to work around it. He had to. If he gave in to what he felt now...

Amy sensed his slight frustration and made the decision to push away the last of her worries. She playfully lifted both the hem of the shirt and the front flap of the breechcloth. It caused him to suck in his breath and freeze. His own garment now looked like a small tent there in his lap when she looked, and as she raised her gaze, she found herself looking at those bright blue eyes that she loved to stare into. There was a tense moment of silence between them until Amy smiled with helpless little shrug. "Just trying to help," she said.

He lowered his gaze and doggedly struggled to get the measurement. When he had it, he pinched the strip tightly between his forefinger and thumb so as not to lose it as he let the other end go and spread his fingers around her haunch to cup it. Stormfeather smiled a tiny bit as her scent filled his nose. He allowed himself just a brief moment to commit the sight of her red hair to memory before he moved the hand holding the strip to her other thigh and then leaned close to plant a slow and soft kiss that brought her sigh to him. He thought it was the nicest sound that he'd ever heard.

When he knelt back, he found her green eyes shining down on him, "Trying to make friends?" She asked in a whisper.

He could only nod a little, "The hair is shorter now," he said in some confusion.

Amy chuckled once nervously, "I found my small scissors. I hope you like it."

He sighed, and nodded with a soft smile.

"I almost hate myself for saying this, but could you please mark that measurement down or whatever you have to do?"

"It is not what I really want to do now," he said.

"I know," she sighed, "but if you do that again, you'll do something else I'd really want you to do, I just know it. Nobody's ever done that for me before and I'm almost sure that my knees would give out and then I'd fall down." Her fingers ran lightly over the rim of his ear for a moment. "I think we both know where this will go and if you want to stop making the leggings for now, it will be fine with me, Arn."

He rose up slightly and kissed below her navel before resting his head there against her hard belly as he held her. "I love you, Sheena. I want to take care of you."

The feeling from him filled her with pleasure when the thought of it came to her and she nodded, though he couldn't see the gesture. "I know," she said, "thank you for this, the way that you have your head here." She buried her fingers in his long hair. "I don't think that I can explain it, but it makes me feel very special."

"I have a picture of you in my mind with them on and I want very much to see you like that," he said.

"If you can wait that long," she breathed softly as she found her fingers toying with one of his thin braids, "then I guess I can too. I want to feel them on me because you made them for me, like a hug that I can walk in. How long will it take?"

"These will be for summer," he said quietly as his hand caressed her bottom, "for you to wear right now if you want. I will make others for colder weather. These ones will be a little open at the sides above the knee, they will not take long."

She found that he hadn't been far wrong as she watched his hands fly in the making of the leggings. It wasn't much more than half an hour before he held them out for her a little shyly from where he sat on the porch. He loved the way that her eyes shone as she stared at them. Amy giggled as she snatched them from him happily to run into the house. She couldn't wait to get them on.

She stood in front of the long mirror which had been one of her mother's favorite possessions. Amy had always loved that they had it as she grew up. With the leggings on and laced up under her long breechcloth, she smiled as she put her moccasins back on and tried her vest over top. It was such a thrill to see herself now much like she'd been in her sketch. Her thoughts ran to him.

"Come here and see, Arn," she called out.

He walked in and stood there with a proud smile at her happiness, "I see that you like them," he said quietly, "so I am pleased."

Amy's heart seemed to flutter in her chest at how his simple words could make her feel. She was in his arms within a second. "I'm happier with the things that you've made than I could ever be in even the finest gown from France. Thank you, Arn."

He took her hand and led her to the mirror. "I will make better things for you the next time. I need to get some beads and see how the women put them on the things that they make," he said as he adjusted the way that her vest hung on her shoulders from behind her.

Amy loved the way that they felt on her skin. She was sure the feeling would pass as she became used to the clothes, but for now, each tiny motion that she made caused a thrill as they moved against her body. It only added to her arousal. She pressed back against him as she caught his eyes in the mirror with her own and pulled his arms around her. He leaned around her head to kiss her cheek and neck.

Amy sighed and whispered to him, "I love you Arn. I can't even say what I'm feeling right now."

Unnoticed by the two, Winky had followed them inside and thought the whole building was a wonder. She knew what it was – it was their den. She couldn't decide whether she liked to be in a den as large as this one obviously was. Every one that she'd ever been in was much more close and snug. She was just beginning to look around and everywhere there seemed to be so much to explore.

But then she heard Amy's soft sigh and turned her gaze in the direction of it.

Amy stepped away out of his arms and walked to the bed. She bent down with a thought to take off her moccasins, but then glanced back at him. This would be the start of it, she realized, now and right here - the beginnings of what her dreams had told her had to happen. Well if that were so, she just couldn't see why they couldn't do this the same way that they seemed to do everything else – by their own path. The man that she loved to look at appeared to be beyond the capability for much discussion, so...

Stormfeather watched in fascination as she looked back and smiled a little - upside down and softly framed by her long red hair. The smile grew wider as she straightened and untied the belted portion of her own breechcloth to lay it down. She bent down again to slip her moccasins off and then thought to unlace enough of her leggings to be able to slip them off her long legs.

"Please," he asked almost whispering, "Please, leave them on."

Amy felt a thrill now that she understood it. They both seemed to like this. He'd really enjoyed their teasing as he'd measured her and she'd been so happy to play along, though it was torture to her at the same time. She now saw that it had been a bit of torture to him as well, doing his best – and failing – to ignore everything there to get these delightful-feeling clothes made and on her for this.

"Do you like me this way?"

She asked it slowly, so softly that the sound of it made his penis twitch so hard that he thought it might break.

He removed his own simple garment and she sighed. "Now that, "she said quietly, trying to think of a way to make this even better, "that's another thing about you that I've dreamed of." There was no joke to how she'd said it. She was being sincere and truthful.

An idea came to her and she tried to emphasize what she'd been given with a tiny backward thrust. It brought him to her in an instant, so much better than speaking, she thought, now that her mouth felt so dry, suddenly.

Amy felt his hand on her flank, sliding gently down along the open side seams of her leggings for a moment. When she felt those fingers bumping along gaps of the side laces on the inside and rising, she moved forward slowly to kneel on the bed while she still had the ability.

"What you were thinking of doing out there on the porch, honey," she said, "What I was aching for you to do, please, Arn."

He knelt on the floor, still lightly sliding his fingers just at the tops of the leggings as she spread her knees apart a bit more. He was still coming closer to the throb that he'd caused in her again.

"Oh, God, Arn," she sighed, "if you love me at all, please do it now."

She felt the first of his light kisses and wondered if her heart might be failing her. She moaned softly as she felt his tongue begin to explore her and she was fairly certain that her poor heart was failing her right then. The damn thing might just explode soon, she thought.

She lowered herself onto the forearms and looked back, but other than some portions of him, there wasn't much to see. It wasn't important, but Amy was still in some disbelief that all of this was really happening. And it felt so wonderful. She hung her head and whimpered as his tongue slipped inside for a few moments. In spite of the feeling, she became aware of his sounds after a few seconds.

The solitary wandering warrior who could likely do anything but fly was groaning softly. She looked back again, and though she couldn't see all of him, she saw enough to know that he wasn't pleasuring himself in any way – and yet she could feel from him that he felt pleasure from this. Amy sighed, but she found her voice, though it came out in a half-whisper that seemed to thrill them both.

"Does this make you feel good too?"

He didn't answer for a moment or two, but he paused and slid his tongue higher for an instant to wet her anus before, working it back down into a slick caress on the spot in between her openings . Before she could gasp, his tongue was gone again and he whispered, "Yes. I cannot feel what you feel from this, but I feel how your heart sings from what I do." He licked her anus again and she groaned.

"I have done this before, though so long ago. It gives me a pleasure I have never known before to do this now," he sighed a little breathlessly, "I am very surprised."

Amy remembered the mirror hopefully and turned her head. She couldn't see the back half of him, as though he just ended there in a line as he knelt there, but she could see everything from that line forward in the reflection.

She arched her back downward in order to present herself to him better and watched as he drew his head back for a moment. Her eyes noticed his tongue as he brought it between her flanks and she felt herself penetrated again, but she managed to keep her eyes open to continue to watch him love her there.

This was primal and no doubt dirty to the fine and haughty Santa Fe women that her profession as a teacher brought her into contact with. But to her it was beautiful and natural. It was what had to be between them. He moaned softly as he pressed his face to her so that he could try to suck out one of her inner lips. She smiled in pleasure when he'd managed it, watching and feeling those strong hands of his glide over the parts of her that he could reach.

Besides, she grinned in a moment where she had the time to grasp the thought, she knew there wasn't a woman among them all who wouldn't give a lot to have a man like him do something this thoughtful and primally dirty to them.

She felt his nose against her lips there and somehow knew what he'd do next. No matter that she'd tried to prepare in her anticipation of it, she was still taken as he ran his tongue so that her nub felt as though it skittered wetly against the surface of it. As nice as it had been, it was nothing to how it felt as he drew it back. Amy wanted to protest and plead for that again, but he was already doing it. All that she could do was enjoy it and wonder what was controlling her own voice as she heard herself whimper and mewl.

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Winky wondered at what they were doing now. She decided that they seemed to like her and it pleased her since she already liked them and how they'd seemed to allow her to stay. She hoped for their acceptance soon, but then suddenly realized what she was watching here. She knew what this would lead to soon.

Winky didn't really know how her supposition applied to them, but to her, it seemed as though they were about to begin to mate.

The thought surprised her. Why would that be going on if there was a stranger such as her in their midst? To her mind, she should have been warned away with threats.

But she hadn't been.

And they were mating – or about to very soon now. It could only mean one thing.

She turned and walked silently to the open door. Out on the porch, she looked around carefully. She skipped down the few steps and prowled quickly around the building, watching and looking cautiously all around. There were horses in the barn and they seemed content for the moment. Her eyes went to the rise where they'd all walked down here from.

Nothing.

She slunk around to the front again and looked off down onto the scrub plain for a moment. Nothing untoward came to her notice, so she stepped back onto the porch and cast a long look at the distant ridge.

Again, nothing.

If this was what she thought that it might be, she felt that she ought to do what she'd done with the other members of her pack when her parents mated and looked vigilantly to be sure that nothing interrupted them.