006 "Everything" by Abraxas 2010-06-28
Dunbar dropped a log onto the fire Wind started.
Flames roared and licked the wood. It grew warmer as the air chilled, brighter as the sun set. As everything settled, the white man watched as the red man danced about the fire. It was a private display of intimacy between cultures that climaxed with a smoke.
A while later they just sat in front of the fire as a new and different kind of dance started. Then Wind crept a little closer to Dunbar. Then Dunbar leaned a little nearer to Wind. The encroachment into each other's space was gradual and seemingly without purpose. Until there was not an inch to separate them and it was up to their fingers to continue their play.
They were like children but the game possessed a very adult (and dangerous) subtext. And that tension was revealed by a disturbance that caused them at once to separate and look about the fort nervously. But it was only the neigh of their horses. The animals, penned by fence, were engaged in their own gentle nose-nudging sport.
The men looked at each other and laughed. The tension was broken. Soon smiles were replaced by quick, lustful glances. Stirring as their bodies hungered, again, toward contact. Dunbar stroked and combed Wind's hair off of his lips, his cheeks. Wind embraced Dunbar, wrapping their legs about legs, pressing face against chest.
That fire wept as droplets splattered about the ground. A rain descended onto the fort carrying a fresh though acrid smell. Yet they did not budge. Dunbar's lips against Wind's nipple - moans of pleasure filling the air. They continued the exploration of their differences until the rain soaked their clothes and they retreated, hand in hand, into the shelter.
They were not free of rain - water trickled through the ceiling and hit their skin and their clothes as they dangled to dry.
Dunbar released the knot and Wind's hair unwound and spread. Again the white man was grabbed and embraced by the red man. Tightly. Deeply. Even air did not separate their skin. Dunbar surged to kiss Wind's lips, neck, chest. Then falling, falling...he inhaled curly black hair that brushed his face. And the taste of a man filled his mouth.
The storm surged - thunder and lightning flashed within the fort.
Wind was a rock, tip to base, moistened by Dunbar's kiss. The slightest touch along its contours urged a wilderness of ecstacy out of the Indian's lips.
Wind tumbled onto his knees, body flexing head to toe. Dunbar gasped as warmth gush through his fingers. Wind latched onto Dunbar, twitching and shaking and begging through words that came out a jumble of syllables. Dunbar came just by watching and feeling everything that happened with Wind.
They looked at their seed mingling.
"What does this mean?" Dunbar asked Wind.
Wind kissed Dunbar. They fell aside onto the grassy floor of the shelter. They lay together, entangled, as the storm raged. As its water trickled.
"Everything."
END
