Lost

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Running Eagle, naked except for a leather breechcloth, a red headband, and moccasins. Earlier the day he had been following day old tracks of a shod horse. The rider made no attempt to hide it from possible pursuers. The imprints were clearly visible in the red sand and on the rocks amongst the variety of tracings left by other animals.During the tracking, Running Eagle began to know his quarry. The rider, astride a chestnut horse, was reconnoitering the terrain. Through the depth of the prints, the length of the strides and the way the horse pissed, he could gauge that the mare was about 15-hands and seemed very skittish in the White Apache Mountain Reservation of Arizona. The female rider dismounted a number of times to study cactus flowers or cat’s claws and also took samples of each. She was about 5’8”, 120b and was also not very comfortable in Apache country.During that last hour Running Eagle became certain that the rider was lost.The confusion of markings on the ground in front of him was very also disturbing. Yesterday afternoon a rattlesnake spooked the horse. The rider must’ve fallen off when the mare bolted in terror. But where could the rider be? On closer inspection Running Eagle saw the place where the rider fell to the ground and rolled over a bluff.Leaning over the edge he saw a figure lying in a large clearing about twenty feet below. The rider lay face down in the red mud at the edge of a pool. Looking around, he couldn’t see the mare anywhere. It must have gone home. Maybe a search party will backtrack the horse and find the rider.Running Eagle sat back on his haunches to study the situation. The rider might need medical attention and the horse might not make it back to her stable. Reluctantly he stood up. “There are too many maybes,” he mumbled and started to look for a way down. He readjusted his leather pouch and the bow and arrows on his back and quickly descended kocaeli escort the overhang. His knee-length moccasins were well suited for rock climbing.Reaching the fallen rider, he quickly removed his pack and proceeded to look for injuries on the prone figure. Carefully sliding his hands over the rider’s back, legs and arms, he discovered to his relief that no bones were broken. When Running Eagle pushed his right hand underneath the rider’s chest, he touched the softness of a handful of breast. A flash of another woman’s naked beast, long ago, brought back a painful memory.He yanked his hand from the temptation and turned the woman onto her back. She had a bump on her head. Clotted blood on her muddy face and on her long black hair could not hide her beauty. The top buttons of her blue denim shirt were undone, exposing the soft swelling of her bosom. He could feel the awakening of his penis, something he vowed would never happen again.For ten years he was successful in resisting the temptation of the female flesh, and his own, by running away. During those long years, he became Running Eagle after successfully completing survival courses taught by Tom Brown, Jr. He also proved to himself that he could live off the land. This was the first time since that fateful day that passion warmed his cock.“Why now?” He picked up the unconscious figure and carried her over to a grassy patch beneath the overhang. He lay her down, collected water from the spring and fished out a cloth from his soft leather pouch.Running Eagle, a certified scout, started to unbutton his patient’s muddy shirt. He pulled the shirt from her jeans, exposing her bra-less but firm taunting breasts to his gaze. The brown nipples winked, inviting him to lick and suck on them.Running Eagle summoned all his spiritual, mental and physical training to resist touching and caressing those inviting, pleasurable orbs of kocaeli escort bayan flesh. He continued to strip her of her clothes, poured water on the cloth and slowly washed away the blood and mud from her body. During the cleansing process he couldn’t take his eyes off her hairless pussy, her clitoris and the shy dark pink lips peeking from the slit between her legs. Her hands were soft and not used to hard work.Her skin was the healthy bronze color of an Apache. “So, you’re a lost local,” he said, adjusting his straining cock in the confines of his breechcloth. “But from the big city. By the looks of it, you have mixed blood.” His patient gave a soft moan.Finished washing her, he covered her naked body with a soft tanned buckskin. He collected dry sticks to build a fire and while setting up camp busied his hands but not his mind. Where did this goddess come from? Was she a gift from the Great Spirit or another test for his commitment to denouncing the flesh?Every now and then he stole a glance at the unconscious figure, longing to caress her body and pleasure her protruding jewel terrace with his tongue. He would love to slide his dick up and down her slippery slit before entering her center of joy.But no, he made a mistake once and it cost him his marriage and his job. Running Eagle emptied his mind and entered the Sacred Silence. He washed her muddy clothes in the pool and set them on a rock to dry in the sun.The rumble in his stomach reminded him that he hadn’t eaten anything for two days. His uninvited guest might also be hungry. Scouting around for signs, he picked up on a Blacktail Jackrabbit’s fresh tracks. He removed his slingshot from his leather pouch, picked up eight round stones and followed the tracks. He identified the places where the rabbit nibbled on grass and shrubs, and where it rested beneath a brush.Running Eagle placed a stone in the rawhide patch attached izmit escort to two leather thongs and started stalking his prey. The fresh tracks indicated that the rabbit was close by. Suddenly the Blacktail Jackrabbit exploded from its hiding place not two yards from Running Eagle. He swung the slingshot once and let go of the one thong, sending the stone at the rabbit’s head.On his way back to camp he was lucky enough to also bag a Gambel’s quail. He dug for roots and picked enough berries to satisfy their hunger. An hour later he entered the camp where female danger lurked.Running Eagle, naked except for a leather breechcloth, a red headband and moccasins, heard the melodious humming coming from the camp before he could see the owner of the voice. The naked figure of his female patient, extending her arms above her head greeted him. She looked like a mountain lion stretching her limbs after a rest in the shade. Despite the apparent danger, his gaze zoomed in on her taut breasts and her long spread-out legs. Her smooth pussy was prominent, and the sight caused the blood in his head to drop to his cock in one swift painful movement.With the little blood left in his brain, he wondered how he got into this position, a certified Apache scout rendered speechless, with food in his right hand and an erection between his legs.“Lunch?” asked the goddess, pointing at the dead rabbit and quail, bringing him back to the temptation.“Huh?” Running Eagle couldn’t move a muscle, except the one between his legs, but that was involuntary.“Hi, I am Wind-in-her-Hair.” She walked up to him with an outstretched hand. “Thank you for saving me.” Running Eagle looked into her dark eyes then dropped the kill to shake her hand. His sweaty palm turned into fire when he touched her strong hand.“Your clothes…”“Yes, thank you for washing them,” she said. “Are you going to skin the rabbit, or should I try?”Eventually, his heart pumped enough blood back to his brain to at least let him function more or less normally. Avoiding looking at her, he asked Wind to place ten large stones in the fire while he skinned and gutted the rabbit.

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