Paradise Valley by sagetoad

Paradise Valley by sagetoad

Indulge in an enticing journey of passion and desire with this captivating adult story. Explore the complexities of romance, temptation, and sensuality that will leave you breathless and craving more. Dive in and discover the intimate connections that ignite unforgettable experiences!

The first story in a series. An American Indian family is expelled from their tribe for perversions.

Paradise Valley

Silver Quail stretched her tawny body and sat up in her bed of furs. She smiled at the morning sun shining in through the colored drawings on the skin of her teepee. She was proud of those drawings. They depicted her husband, Tall Elk’s, victories, hunting success, and wealth. She was considered a very good artist and had done work for other families. Hopefully she could add to their pictures, if her husband returned today.

It was good to awake to the wonderful smell of wood smoke and cooking food, mixed with the moist morning dew coming in off the river. She could hear the river rushing by and the sound of children’s laugher as they played in the river.

As she wiped the sleep from her eyes, she noticed that White Fawn was already gone from her bed. White Fawn spent most of her time with aunt, Winter Maiden and her five children. Who could blame her? Winter Maiden was the best cook and baker in the tribe. She would be baking today in preparation for the men’s return.

White Fawn was young but eligible for marriage. Winter Maiden’s 10 and 12-year-old sons could become men at any time. They were highly sought after as was White Fawn herself, who had retained some of her grandmother’s white characteristics. White Fawn and Silver Quail were both known for their creamy light complexions and delicate childlike beauty. Which reminded her, she must make sure White Fawn was drinking her horsetail tea to prevent childbirth. She was much too young to give birth without a husband.

Silver Quail knew it was the day of the buffalo scull ceremony. She was to get willows for the purification ritual prior to the ceremony. Hopefully the hunters, including her husband, would return by nightfall. They had been hunting to the south for a full week. Tall Elk should have taken her along. Men were clumsy at cutting, drying, and smoking meat. That was women’s work. It was hoped that the men would be able to trade with the tribes of the south or Navajo’s in the east, for salt. They needed much of it. Trading with the white men was dangerous and expensive, especially for somebody like Silver Quail who was born to a white mother.

Silver Quail took the cooking pot down from the fork on the teepee pole. She opened the pot and looked inside. Hard white chunks of grease had congealed on top of last night’s stew. She picked them from the pot and dropped them on the ground, as she made her way to the cooking fire. She knelt on the ground by the fire pit and blew on the ashes. Many people took note of her creamy soft thighs, as her dress rode up behind her. A few coals lit under her gentle breath. She added suckers from the nearby pines and blew again until the fire caught and began burning nicely. She added more wood and looked around the camp as she set the pot on the flat cooking rock.

White Fawn was nowhere in sight. Runs Like A Deer raised a cloud of dust as he rode the village horse herd up to the grassy hills above the camp. He would stand watch today. There was no telling when the white men, or the Crows, could sneak in for a few scalps or wives. The camp was always nervous when the men were away.

Silver Quail headed to the private area of the river. It was a little cove known as the women’s area. She broke a willow branch from a tree and chewed it, before using it to clean her teeth. She tossed the branch aside and pulled her knife. She cut several branches for the buffalo ceremony, then sheathed her knife and went on down to the river. Three naked women were in sight, two just ahead of her and one too far away to recognize, on the far side of the cove.

“Small Fish and Rainbow,” Silver Quail said with a smile as she approached. They were naked and bathing. They waved, then continued bathing as they talked up a storm. Silver Quail tried to tune them out. There was a rumor that Small Fish was pregnant again. Silver Quail glanced in her direction, then shook her head. Small Fish had a perfect body. She had the small breasts which any man would love, and a slender work-hardened body which most women envied. Rainbow was the complete opposite. Rainbow was lazy. She made her children do most of her work for her. She had larger breasts, but she also had a bulging stomach and thick thighs with bumps. It was said that Rainbow was a lesbian. Silver Quail doubted it. Being a lesbian required a few things considered gross in their culture, and Rainbow was very old fashioned. She refused to do anything revolting. She also refused to do anything involving work. Silver Quail herself might be interested in Small Fish. Her figure was really very cute, similar to Silver Quail’s own.

Silver Quail pulled off her buckskin dress and tossed it over a branch. She waded into the cold water and gasped. She smiled at their giggles, as she washed her slender, perfect body with handfuls of ice cold water. She filled her dainty hand and poured water over her breasts. They glistened in the morning sunlight. As she bathed beneath her arms, she noticed that the lone woman was gone. She captured a handful of water and bathed her ass. She finished by sitting in the water, then gasping at the cold. She stood and found the other two women eyeing her. She knew that other women envied her. She couldn’t blame them. The best looking women in any tribe where those of mixed blood. But at the moment, Silver Quail would have traded places with anybody. Her pussy was itching, and it had nothing to do with going without sex for a week. It was a more severe, irritating itch which she knew well. She would ask Ravenous Wolf if it were truly a yeast infection, when she took him the willow branches. He was the best medicine man in the area.

“Did you hear about Sprinting Colt?” Rainbow suddenly asked Silver Quail, including her in their conversation.

“Colt? No, what about him?” Silver Quail asked in concern. Colt was one of White Fawn’s friends.

“He captured a fawn which likes to suck penis. He’s becoming very popular with his friends.”

“I can imagine,” Silver Quail snorted. “He will be popular until that fawn bites off somebody’s dick. Has your husband ever asked you for that?” Silver Quail whispered.

“No,” Rainbow said with a revolted look.

“Mine has,” Small Fish admitted. “It’s a white man’s thing, like kissing. I hear it’s becoming very popular in the tribe with the young people.”

“I don’t do kissing either,” Rainbow gasped.

“You’re a prude,” Silver Quail said without thinking. “I’m sorry,” she said as a hurt expression crossed Rainbow’s face. “I didn’t mean that. You just like the old ways. I’m feeling guilty because Tall Elk has asked me, but I refused. I have felt bad ever since,” Silver Quail admitted.

“Some women fantasize about being captured by white men so they can experience all their perverted ways,” Rainbow whispered in a conspiratorial tone.

“Have you ever asked him to lick you?” Small Fish asked Silver Quail, ignoring Rainbow’s drama.

“No, I wouldn’t have the nerve,” Silver Quail giggled.

“Well the next time he asks you, you ask him right back. If he refuses, you can too.”

“You’re right,” Silver Quail felt better. “I will ask him, hopefully tonight.”

“Achee, I’m freezing,” Rainbow gasped. “I’m going up.”

Silver Quail waved water into her open pussy lips. It felt good, but the feeling didn’t last long enough. She would see Ravenous Wolf now. She didn’t want this problem upon Tall Elk’s return.

“Hey, Quail,” Small Fish yelled.

“Yes?”

“If you don’t want to do it, call Sprinting Colt. He would be glad to lend you his fawn for a gratuity,” she giggled.

Silver Quail dropped the willow branches by Ravenous Wolf’s door, and went inside. She explained her problem.

“Burning? Let me see,” Ravenous Wolf said promptly.

“Achee, old man. Can’t you just take my word for it?”

“Not in this case. Besides, you have the best looking pussy I’ve ever seen. It’s not a big old gash like some women in the tribe. Come on, let me see it,” he insisted impatiently.

Silver Quail sat on the rock, which served as his examination table, and lifted her skirt. He sank between her knees and touched her pussy. She hissed as his cool hand contacted her warm flesh. He looked closer and opened her pussy lips. She felt the soothing cold air enter her pussy.

“That feels good,” she admitted, then stiffened as he moved his face between her legs. She held her breath in anticipation, but he only sniffed.

“You know what it is,” he said accusingly, rising to his feet. “Does Tall Elk wash before you make love?”

“Not always. Sometimes he just pushes me down and fucks me.”

“I can imagine. That’s what I would do,” he said with an evil laugh.

“So what can I do?” she asked, both amused and angry at her plight.

“Apply a sour milk and boiled mullen poultice. If you can’t find mullen, use tobacco. And borrow somebody’s dog. I hear Gray Fox has an obedient dog. Winter Maiden has a bitch, and she’s milking, so she should be perfect. A bitch won’t spend all night trying to fuck you.”

“A dog?”

“Dog saliva heals most wounds,” he nodded. “But you have to use the poultice first or it won’t work.”

“Thanks. Do you need me at the ceremony?”

“And have you playing with your crotch all the way through it? You will have the men out in the brush beating their meat,” he laughed. She grew embarrassed, but was pleased.

“The ceremony is more traditional than practical. The buffalo will never return. The white men sent a group of us east so we could see how hopeless it was to fight, and I saw piles of buffalo hides the size of mountains. They have been replaced by the white men’s cattle, which is why I sent the men out to hunt cattle. Go take care of your home. The men will return after sunset.”