One
The thick stalks of the clovers swayed gently, their emerald leaves dancing overhead in the sultry, southeasterly breeze. The dense foliage offered welcome shelter both from the midday sun and from the sudden gentle showers that were typical during the steamy months of summer.
Japho discovered the pleasant hideaway several years ago when, on a youthful dare, he scoffed the searing temperatures and took the short, but very steep, hike up the foothills to visit Ice Lake.
His hidden perch was situated on the escarpment, about ten meters above the southern edge of the glassy turquoise water. Vulgarly named Cuniv-Yuma in the local tongue, the largest tributary emptied lazily into the lake a hundred meters before him, dumping liter upon refreshing liter of sweet waters from the snowcapped peaks several thousand meters above.
Japho tested the lake on his first visit, and found the water much too cold for his liking. Rather, he preferred to sit in the cool shade and listen to the calming rustle of the giant clovers. Just as he had so often in the past, he found a comfortable spot where the breeze meandered along the mossy carpet and raised goose bumps over his moist brown skin.
In the shallow waters on either side of the tributary, thick groves of chutha flourished. Their red-striped slender stems swayed in the fragrant wind, bowing humbly from the weight of the elongated brownish pods at their tips. Held back by brilliant white sand as fine as powdered sugar, the loamy soils of the forest encroached to within twenty or twenty-five meters of the lake’s shoreline. Upon those banks, the girls would come and swim to escape the hottest part of the day.
Japho fortuitously discovered their daily ritual nearly three weeks ago when, from the dark surrounding forests, they presented themselves before him in all their exquisite glory.
Of course, the girls didn’t know they were being observed.
They were late today. He slicked his black, fur-like hair back nervously, anticipating their arrival, enduring the uneasiness of potential discovery in exchange for the hot flood of adrenaline and youthful hormones.
Japho steadied his elbows on raised knees and lifted his osothic to his hungry brown eyes to scan the fringe of the forest. The lenses were a present from his father to celebrate the arrival of the age of Consention. Compact and lightweight, the expensive imported optics offered him crisp digitally enhanced images at significant magnifications.
Two seasons ago, neither he nor his father would have envisioned his usage of them today.
His jiwon, loose, mid-thigh shorts made from the soft tanned skin of the yikoka, became noticeably tighter between his long upright legs. He briefly entertained removing the jiwon entirely for the thought of being naked outdoors with the prospect, albeit very unlikely, of being discovered was tremendously arousing.
Pondering the risk, he lay back on the cool musty ground and, feeling his erection swell, raised a knee slightly to allow it to lengthen along his sweaty inner thigh. A shift of his hips allowed the dark, ruddy glans freedom to peek from beneath the yikoka skin. Soon reaching full length, his erection tugged the left hem of his jiwon with every passionate heartbeat.
Although two summers past Consention, Japho had never consummated with a woman physically. Yes, he had participated in pre-arranged chaperoned courting, but his upbringing—and constant parental supervision—precluded any carnal relationship.
He believed unquestionably that he would offer himself wholly and devoutly to one woman. Although he had yet to give of himself, he was certain that he had found the one. He could scarcely imagine her touch, or the pleasures deep within the mysterious folds between her thighs.
His ears perked at their voices, the melodic prelude of their appearance. He rose suddenly. The girls appeared from the thicket, giggling, walking by the tall chutha to the sandy shore.
Trembling, he raised the osothic to his eyes.
The conversations carried easily over the calm water. Unfortunately, he knew their dialect sparingly at best, and, obviously, he was much too shy to approach them.
Of what he could translate, their speech was often crude and vulgar by his standards, sprinkled with words the meanings of which he could scarcely guess. Their language was, by nature, carnal: hot, brimming with sexually charged meanings and metaphors, steeped in eroticism. He had seldom heard such vulgarity in his own tongue.
It excited him.
The five women ranged in age from a couple of years his junior to three or four years his senior. Perhaps they were of the same clan, possibly sisters, although, with the obvious exception of the twins, each was very different physically.
He fixed his gaze on the foremost and eldest, Jazizi, the exhibitionist. With exotic, angular features, she was indeed a goddess, the one for whom all the genetic superlatives would certainly apply.
Dark, raven haired, she was the tallest of the five, with black, thick-lashed eyes, every lovely hair of which he could easily distinguish through his high-powered lenses.
Jazizi was especially fond of gold, which adorned her bronzed body in myriad displays. Glistening thick braids caressed her elegant neck, wrists, and ankles. Joined at either side of her narrow waist, many thinner links draped over her flat tummy and full, round buttocks. Ringlets of gold pierced her body in other delightful places as well. Although she wasn’t his love, she was certainly the most desirable of the five.
As usual, she was nude.
She stood giggling and chatting with her back to him, her words indistinguishable to his straining ear. He followed her shiny dark hair down the graceful curve of back to her waist. Gold chains draped below her prominent sacral dimples, providing a glinting topical map of her firm buttocks, which flexed evocatively when she cast off her sandals.
She spun around gleefully and stopped. Anticipating the moment precisely, Japho glimpsed the gold braids as they fell over the gentle rise of her collarbone and cascaded between her exquisite breasts.
How he envied those braids! Japho took a deep breath to dispel his lightheadedness. He looked on as the tribal thump of his erection pumped in his ears.
Dark as a chutha root and glowing from recent sun, Jazizi’s full, round breasts jiggled wonderfully with each dramatic step, bouncing to a teasing halt as she stopped at the water’s edge.
Her nipples tilted up slightly on the firm globes, like habat berries, centered perfectly in the dark sienna areola, which, when relaxed in the heat, was nearly as broad as his palm. She stepped into the water. With her silly, girlish squeal of delight, her nipples hardened and the smooth surrounding disk pebbled, becoming almost black.
Jazizi caressed her breasts, squeezing them, kneading her black nipples between her thumb and finger. It was as if she knew Japho were watching. She slipped her forefingers into the thick gold nipple rings, and tugged, lifting her breasts upwards as if judging their mass. The view flared slightly as the brilliant glare from the white sand peeked through the tiny triangle where her magnificent legs narrowed slightly at her pubes.
This was more than he could bear...
“Oh ep nokafu, Jazizi,” Enisha called to Jazizi.
He did understand that. It seemed that Enisha called Jazizi a whore.
Jazizi thrust her hips forward suggestively and laughed, walking into the lake. He watched as the water washed up her long, lean legs to that wonderful vertical black thatch of hair. The lake would have the pleasure of licking the dark folds of her labia, surely pierced with gold rings he imagined, as it slipped over her swelling hips and she immersed herself completely.
“Zirib-ban,” she said, laughing, calling to Enisha.
Next, Japho turned his attention to Enisha, who, unlike Jazizi, was clothed—somewhat. In their society during the hot, sticky months of summer, from the age of Consention to the time of Consummation, females were nude in public. Aknubi-bo, as they called it. That’s the way it had always been, and, with the exception of rare beauties such as these, the endless parade of breasts and bare bottoms became blasé.
In this tribal custom, women were either nude or clothed completely. Enisha, however, covered her breasts and pubes with garments made from the soft underbelly skin of yikoka, and, ironically, Japho found the diminutive covering tremendously arousing.
Enisha was shorter than Jazizi and, although the shape of their breasts was quite different, hers were larger. Jazizi’s breasts were perfect turgid spheres, whereas Enisha’s breasts were soft, more pendulous. Indeed, her entire body was softer, fuller. Surely, she used the clothing to support her breasts, he surmised.
Enisha shook out her blond shoulder-length hair and pulled it upon her head, fastening the mass with a red clip. Japho zoomed closer until he saw her as closely as if he were standing before her, face-to-face.
Her clear, almond shaped eyes were as emerald as the clovers overhead, as engaging as the sudden summer storms. What would transpire before his eyes was the most sensuous, thrilling event he could imagine. His pulse quickened in tandem with his shallow gasps for air. Unnoticed, his sack tightened beneath his erection.
She smiled at her sister in the water and joked, but Japho could not discern what she said. He wished he could read those pink full lips to understand. That thought was brief, for he rose uncomfortably to his knees when her hands reached behind her back.
Her soft breasts pressed against the thin skin of her brassiere. The white triangular yikoka, as taut as the head of his aching thapu, strained against her nipples, like white sails in the westerly winds.
This was the moment!
He imagined the sound of the yikoka releasing from the weight, slipping over the smooth, tender flesh as her magnificent white bosom spilled forth into the glorious sunlight. Two fingers wide and perfectly round, the pink disk of her smooth areola concealed her soft, pliable nipples that he knew would become prominent only when dipped in the chilly lake.
Suddenly aware of his gentle rocking back and forth, he was so enthralled with Enisha’s disrobing, he hadn’t noticed the pressure, the telltale burning sensation that traveled from deep within his body, along the base of his erection, to the engorged glans, now pointing uncomfortably down his thigh.
It was strange, almost unsettling, for it had never happened before. Like Enisha’s magnificent bosom, he spilled forth, too, so powerfully that he thought they might hear him. Hot, loamy semen, as white as her breasts, gushed onto the green moss in ecstatic tides. Trembling, he never took his eyes off Enisha.
Her heavy breasts teased him as she bent forward and removed her thong bottom, casting it to the sand at her feet to reveal her white, shorn pubes. This was glorious! The whiteness of the hidden flesh against her robust tan was maddening.
Likewise, if Enisha elicited such a response, her youngest sister welded the potential to drive him into a sexual frenzy.
The youngest, Sho Knaphi accompanied her friends, but for unknown reasons, never swam with them. She would find a comfortable spot in the shade of the forest and watch them enviously, as if she could scarcely restrain herself from jumping in with them.
Although she had likely entered Consention in the spring, Sho Knaphi was never nude; in fact, she was always clothed in an opaque white robe. Cinched tightly at the neck, the billowing material fell from her swelling bosom like a white waterfall to the arches of her feet.
Curly light brown tendrils fell from beneath her ever-present hat and danced in the breeze. Pale and petite, the antithesis of her bronze amazon companion, Jazizi, Sho Knaphi was so breathtakingly beautiful he could not believe that she was still unmarried. Japho had yet to come to grips that he had fallen in love with this mysterious beauty.
As they were wont on most occasions, the twins, flame haired and lightly tanned, disappeared giggling into the thickest chutha in the shallow water of the tributary. Sho Knaphi followed the twins to the edge where she kneeled to inspect the tender shoots of the chutha. She selected several and pinched off the rusty phallic tips, smelling them briefly before placing them in a deep pocket of her robe.
As he considered her thoughts, for the second time in as many days Sho Knaphi turned and looked directly into his eyes.
He ripped the lenses away in alarm. Impossible! It was as if she knew where he was among the thick clovers. His desire for her quickly eclipsed the eerie feeling and he raised the lenses to his anxious, albeit nervous, eyes.
He heard Jazizi’s distinctly resonant voice call out, “?Sho Knaphi, oh pharir yumuhuy?” She sniffed the air and giggled, making a vulgar sliding motion with her cupped hand and wrist.
Sho Knaphi laughed, her response interrupted as the twins, breasts tight and pebbly from the cold respite, reappeared from the chutha, wading in waist deep water so clear that he could see the brilliant red swatch of their pubes beneath the ripples.
The four frolicked in the sun, whispering and giggling, as Sho Knaphi watched on until they concluded their brief swim and disappeared into the forest.
Japho laid his lenses on the moss and turned to his erection, which was still hard, perhaps harder than before he ejaculated. He pulled the soft brown material up to his crotch and touched the shaft, finding it to be as firm as it appeared.
He ran his hand hesitantly down the length, squeezing the sensitive underside, pushing a final gush of thick white from the purplish glans. The sweaty column pulsed uncontrollably as, lured by the intense pleasure it produced, he reversed the motion. He would always masturbate to relieve the aching feeling in his sack after watching the girls, but this was to be an unusual day.
He pulled the jiwan to his knees and rolled on his right side, raising his left leg to allow the sweaty, hairy sack to peel from his thighs and fall forward into his grasp. He kneaded the balls and tugged on the tightening skin with one hand, while gently stroking the prominent ridge of the head with his fingertips. The second orgasm came upon him so suddenly that he barely had time to grab the shaft and prolong the pleasure in a way that only he knew.
Unable to contain his moans, he squirted forcefully again on the silent green carpet.
It was a half-hour before Japho could walk home.
