By: Sawyer Bennett

Zach immediately went to Paraila and squeezed his shoulder affectionately. Paraila said something to Zach as he pointed to Father Gaul and me, sitting on the other side of the fire. The priest stood and stepped over to Zach, where he clapped him on the back and he made the same motion in return, giving him a warm smile of welcome. He didn’t even spare me a glance, just said a few more quiet words to Father Gaul and then knelt on the ground next to Paraila to talk some more.

When Father Gaul sat back down next to me, he leaned over and whispered, “I’ll talk to him later. He’s not taking this well.”

“I gathered,” I said, understanding. I knew it had to be hard for Zach to leave the only home he probably remembered.

I took another bite of alligator and chewed it thoughtfully while I watched Zach and Paraila talk. Whatever the old man was saying to his adopted son was being met with resistant ears because I watched Zach shake his head back and forth with dismay on his face, which then took on a hardened look. He said something more to Paraila, and then turned to point at me with a scathing look, clearly not happy with my presence. Finally, he surged to his feet as he said something more to Paraila, who just shook his head sadly at Zach.

It was with great interest that I observed Zach forsake the food laid out on clay platters, as he walked around the fire to one of the singing women. She was young… I guessed eighteen or nineteen by the looks of her, and very pretty. She was wearing a headband of black vulture feathers, which Father Gaul told me represented that she had reached puberty, had her first menses, but was not yet married. This was a rarity in the tribe because most women had a husband, and he wasn’t sure what this woman’s story was. If a woman took a husband, she no longer wore a headband of feathers. If she was innocent and hadn’t reached her first menstruation, she wore a headband of white, downy feathers. As far as I could see, this woman was the only one that wore a black headband.

Zach walked up to her as she sat on a petrified log, and she looked up at him with an open smile. He held his hand out to her and, with no hesitation, she placed hers in his outstretched palm. Zach helped her to stand, her breasts swaying gently with the motion. I wondered if they were off to have a secret moment together, and I remembered thinking that maybe she was Zach’s Caraican lover.

My hand was raised to my mouth to take another bite of food, but it froze when Zach turned his head over his shoulder to look at me. His eyes pinned me hard with a menacing look, and I saw something else in there as well.

Maybe challenge?

Then, to my utter astonishment, he pushed the woman down by her shoulder to the ground, where she knelt before him. I was completely stunned when I watched his cock start to swell, while the woman stared with adoring eyes up at the large man standing over her. Zach raised his arm and, with his finger pointed, made a circular motion in the air. The woman immediately turned around on her knees and lowered her cheek to the ground, both of her palms pressed into the dirt by her breasts.

Zach dropped to his knees behind her, his erection now at full mast and tilted proudly upward. He took a hand, stroked himself once, twice, and then released his hold. I was mesmerized as he reached out with one hand and laid it gently on the woman’s lower spine. He leaned forward as his other hand reached out and circled it around the back of her neck, pinning her to the ground. Pushing his hips inward, he brought the tip of his shaft to her backside and started to push into her.

I was utterly captivated that he was doing this in full view of the entire tribe, and I was powerless to turn away, be damned that I was sitting next to a priest. I told myself it would be an interesting study for a paper I would publish one day, and that gave me the permission I needed to continue to watch.

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