Reese Harley drank from the stream. The water was good so he urged his horse to drink as well. It had been a week since he had left Mrs. Dodd's ranch and he had thought about her often. He missed her lush body.
The ride had been hard but uneventful. Long dusty travel.
Suddenly, his horse raised his head. Then Harley himself heard the two horses approaching--fast. He quickly gathered his horse's reins and slipped into the thick thatch of trees beside the stream. From there he could get a good look at the stream and the riders. And hope they wouldn't notice his tracks.
Within minutes, two Comanche braves rode up to the stream. They were laughing, barebacked, black hair flying in the wind. Their long, well-muscled legs prodding their ponies through the stream. The one he could see the best was young, not more than twenty, long limbs and copper skin. He wore a loin cloth and beaded chest covering. The other was dressed similarly but had his back to Harley.
The two swung there legs over and slid off their horses. They were the same height--about six feet tall. After a long moment of looking at each other, they fell into each others arms. They kissed, clinging to each other.
Harley was surprised. He'd heard of such things, of course, but never expected to see two young braves so entwined.
After a moment, the brave that he could not see well, put his hands on his partner's shoulders and pushed him to his knees. This was when Harley saw an unmistakable breast under the beaded cover. Dark and round and black nippled. A woman dressed as an Indian brave.
She had spread her legs so that her partner could lift her loin cloth and have access to her pussy. He was working at it furiously with his tongue and fingers.
The woman pulled her beaded covering off and revealed her large, proud, upstanding breasts. The black nipples were like pieces of coal, hardened into plugs as long as a .45 cartridge. Her color was darker than that of her lover. More like mahogany. After a careful study of her beautiful face, Harley decided she must have some Negro blood. Her sensuous lips and slightly flared nose were not those of a Comanche. And her hair though long, down to her ass in fact, had a gentle wave. And those tits, he had never seen a squaw with tits like that.
The woman lifted these tits and chewed on the nipples. Then she slid her hands down her body over the impossibly flat stomach and dug her fingers into the long, black hair of her lover. She pulled his head into her crotch. Holding him there as if she owned him. Then she flung him to the ground on his back.
He lay there, with his hard cock bursting to get out of his loin cloth.
The woman stripped herself out of her own loin cloth, showing her black haired pussy. Even from a distance, Harley could see the drops of moistness on her cunt lips. She knelt beside the young brave, pulled his loin cloth aside and revealed his pecker, large and hard, the angry red head peeking out of the foreskin. She took the long, smooth rod in her mouth and sucked him hard, pumping the tube with her hand as she tongued the head.
When she was satisfied that he was hard enough, she straddled him and worked his prick into her cunt. She began to ride him wildly, bucking and thrashing. The brave reached up for her breasts but she slapped his hands away and massaged them herself.
In no time, she was screaming in orgasm and pounding his chest like it was his fault.
Harley's cock was hard in his pants as he watched her fuck this man. He brushed the head of it through the fabric.
When she was finished with her climax, she rose off his prick and again took him in her mouth, sucking him even harder. As he was about to come, she removed her thick lips from his cock and jerked him off into the palm of her hand, the white jism filling it. Then she brought her hand to his mouth and poured the semen onto his tongue. He ate it greedily.
Harley came in his pants as the woman did this.
He felt slightly embarrassed about this but was even more so when he felt a sharp tip behind his ear. He turned slowly to find very large Comanche tribesman pointing a notched arrow at his head.
The Indian spoke in Comanche which, thankfully, Harley understood.
"I do not think our princess cares to be watched, white man."
"Yeah, I was kind of surprised at the opportunity," Harley replied in Comanche.
The big man nodded slightly then urged Harley to stand up with a move of the bow and arrow. He deftly stripped the six shooter out of Harley's holster.
They moved into the clearing.
By this time, the woman and the man were standing, having heard the voices. The brave was covering his genitals but the woman stood unashamed, hands on hips, as Harley and the big Indian approached.
"We have a spy, Black Moon," said the armed man. "One who would watch you with your lover." He said this with little less than a violent stare at the young buck. The young man stared back in defiance.
The woman, ignoring them both, strode toward Harley, her breasts bouncing as she moved. Her proud face was etched in outrage. When she was within reach, she slapped him hard across the face.
This woman, Black Moon, stood naked before him, nearly as tall as he. But there was no vulnerable in her nudity, she was a powerful warrior-woman. Her magnificent chest heaved in strength not fear, her taut nipples now stiffened rage not lust.
When she spoke, it was in the language of the white man. "That will be smallest of the pain you will receive before you die."
Then she nodded at the man behind Harley and turned away from him. He watched her powerful back and lush ass as she walked toward the stream and the young brave. Then a great crash on the back of his head sent him into darkness.
When Harley woke, he found himself hanging by his feet, his bound hands inches off the ground and tethered to a stake. He was in a teepee. He was also completely naked.
Across a small fire, he could make out movements. Groans told him some one was making love. Then, as he became more fully awake, he could clearly see the face of the woman, Black Moon. She was lying on her back and staring at him through the fire light. He could see her large breasts, the nipples were not tight with excitement. Above her, her lover grunted as he pounded into her pussy with a huge red cock. Harley realized it was not the same man that she had been with at the stream. It was the big Comanche brave that had captured him.
Black Moon glared into Harley's eyes.
"Are you going to come, Big Antelope?" she asked the man above her, in the language of the Comanche.
"Soon, soon, Black Moon," he said, hoarsely. His powerful arms were sweating profusely as he held himself above her. The soft squishing sound of his cock splitting her gash filled the room. He also stared into Harley's eyes. But with abject anger.
