"Tell me a story." My wife said. We were lying in her bed. I was stroking her belly. Occasionally I would stroke her large breast, just for my enjoyment. Occasionally I would stroke the moist lips between her legs for hers. I think it's called stirring the paint.
"Once upon a time..." I started. "There were three little bears. A Mama Bear, a Pap bear, and baby bear."
"Not that kind of story." She said, a pouty little look on her glistening lips. Jamie wore make-up all the time. I liked it.
"I know what kind of story you want." I slid my finger into her and her body quivered. "Baby bear wasn't much of a baby anymore. Over the years Baby, as he was affectionately called by everyone in the village, had matured into a tall, strong, mature 18 year-old. Ben Bear was a lumberjack. Baby had learned the trade from his father. Ben and Ben Junior were both over six and a half feet tall and weighed in over at over 250 pounds of pure muscle. Eloise had aged well. She wasn't yet forty and the rough life living on the frontier had made her strong. Muscular arms and legs complimented her full breasts and round ass. Eloise was popular in the village. If Ben were not the man he was, someone surely would have challenged him, wanting the buxom blonde woman for his own."
"I like women with strong arms." Jamie said. I ran my fingers over her breast, across her shoulder and down her own long lean arm to her hand.
"One day Ben and Baby were clearing a great evergreen near the trail that led through the glen and up to the village. It was tedious work and the men swung their large axes taking large chunks of wood from the trunk. They had reached their last opportunity to break before they would work furious to bring the tree down. It would be a dangerous job. Ben took rest beneath a tree older than the village as Baby took the short walk down to the creek to refill their water pouches. He was bent over rinsing his face arms and bare chest when he saw something out of the corner of his eye. Up the stream there was a scrap of red cloth. It was out of place and he investigated."
I had gotten distracted by my story telling and Jamie had taken my hand and brought it back between her legs. I moved my finger delicately and she purred.
"Beneath the bow of a tree Baby saw her. She was a small thing, pale and thin. Long blonde hair was matted to her head. She was only partially covered with the remnants of a white linen dress and the red cape. She seemed indecent, her full breast and long lean thigh exposed. Baby didn't like it. He moved to the young woman, tearing her cape free from the branch. Baby was sure the girl was dead. He covered her with the cloth and went to pick her up. He wondered how she had gotten there. As her wrapped her in his wide arms the corpse made a small sound. It was barely audible above the babbling of the stream but it was important. She was breathing. Baby ran from the creek up the hill to wear his father was waiting, the small girl so light she was nothing for the young man to carry."
"Oh no. I hope she is okay." Jamie said. I moved my finger a little faster and she parted her legs. Her pale skin seemed to glow in the barely lit room.
"At the top of the hill, Papa sprung up quickly seeing his sons urgency. He was curious what the boy was carrying. When finally they met standing in the middle of the road to town Papa stiffened, scanning the path for anyone that might have seen them. He sent his son scurrying out of the roadway back into the cover of the trees. He scurried to the creek and gathered the water pouches. At the tree, he took up their heavy axes as if they weighed nothing and summoned his son to follow."
"Slow down." Jamie said, staying my hand. "I need to know what happens. Who is the girl?"
"Ben Bear and his son Junior hiked quickly back to their cottage. The Bears were not men of words and it was not unusual for them to have entire conversation with a single gesture of a hand. Baby knew it was important to get the girl back to the cottage and they made their way through the forest so as not to be seen. Baby didn't need to know why, Papa knew why and that was enough. Mama stood at a fire outside the cottage stirring a large pot. It could have been laundry or dinner; both were essentially done the same way. As the men approached the cottage she observed the bundle. Just as Papa had known what he carried, so too did Mama. Baby simply hurried. Mama had the cottage door open when he reached the stoop and Baby carried the bundle inside and placed the small woman on his bed. Baby knew Papas old pile of straw would be too hard. He knew Mama's thick pile of goose down would have swallowed the girl whole but his own cot, a wood frame of simple canvas would be just right. As he set the girl down, the dress and red cape needed adjustment to cover the woman's body. Baby was startled by unusual feelings as he looked at the young woman. He felt tightness in his pants he usually only felt when he woke up. Baby didn't get to see many women on the frontier. Mama sent him for water. She sent Papa after one of her own nightshirts. She told him to get the good one. Mama worked to get the girl adjusted and gave her water. Baby watched anxiously as the first drips rolled from the girl's lips. Eventually the girl drank and Baby relaxed knowing she would okay if she could drink. That's how it was on the frontier. Water was life."
