by Jean M. Auel
“That doesn’t mean it can’t last, you know,” he said, and watched a slow smile grow.
Jondalar rolled off to his side, then sat up. “This rocky beach is not very comfortable,” he said. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
“I didn’t notice, but now that you mention it, there is a stone jabbing my hip, and another under my shoulder. I think we should find a softer place … for you to lie on,” she said with a sly grin and a glint in her eye. “But first, I’d like to go for a real swim. Maybe there’s a deeper channel nearby.”
They waded back into the river, swam the short distance of the pool, then continued upstream, breaking through the shallow, muddy reed bed. On the other side the water was suddenly cooler, then the ground under their feet dropped off and they found themselves in an open channel that wound through the reeds.
Ayla reached out and pulled ahead of Jondalar, but he exerted himself and caught up. They were both strong swimmers, and were soon having a friendly competition, racing along the open channel as it twisted and turned through the tall reeds. They were so evenly matched, that the smallest advantage could put one or the other into the lead. Ayla happened to be ahead when they reached a split with both new channels curving so sharply that, when Jondalar looked up, Ayla was out of sight.
“Ayla! Ayla! Where are you?” he called. There was no answer. He called out again, starting up one of the channels. It twisted around on itself, and all he could see were reeds; every place he turned, just walls of tall reeds. In a sudden panic, he called out again, “Ayla! Where in the Mother’s cold underworld are you?”
Suddenly he heard a whistle, the one Ayla used to call Wolf. A wave of relief washed over him, but it sounded much farther away than he thought it should have. He whistled back and heard her reply, then started swimming back along the channel. He reached the place where the channel split, then turned up the other fork.
It also turned back on itself and into another channel. He felt a strong current take him, and suddenly he was heading downstream. But ahead he saw Ayla swimming hard against the pull of the stream, and he swam to meet her. She kept going when he came abreast, afraid the current would take her back down the wrong channel again if she stopped. He turned around and swam upstream beside her. When they reached the fork, they stopped to rest, treading water.
“Ayla! What were you thinking of? Why didn’t you make sure I knew which way you were going?” Jondalar scolded in a loud voice.
She smiled at him, knowing now that his anger was a release of tension caused by his fear and worry. “I was just trying to keep ahead of you. I didn’t know that channel would turn back on itself so quickly, or that the current would be so strong. I was carried downstream before I realized it. Why is it so strong?”
His tension vented, and relieved that she was safe, Jondalar’s anger quickly dissipated. “I’m not sure,” he said. “It is strange. Maybe we’re close to the main channel, or the land under the water is dropping off here.”
“Well, let’s go back. This water is cold, and I’m ready for that sunny beach,” Ayla said.
Letting the current help them, their swim back was more leisurely. Though it was not as strong as the pull of the other channel, it moved them along. Ayla turned to float on her back, and she watched the green reeds slipping by and the clear blue vault above. The sun was still in the eastern sky, but high.
“Do you recall where we came into this channel, Ayla?” Jondalar asked. “It all looks so much the same.”
“There were three tall pines in a row on the riverbank, the middle one bigger. They were behind some hanging willows,” she said, then turned over to swim again.
“There are a lot of pines along the water here. Maybe we should head for the shore. We might have gone past them,” he said.
“I don’t think so. The pine on the downstream side of the big one had a funny bent shape. I haven’t seen it yet. Wait … up ahead … there it is, see it?” she said, moving toward the reed bed.
“You’re right,” Jondalar said. “Here’s where we came through. The reeds are bent.”
They clambered back across the reeds to the small pool, which now felt warm. They walked out onto the little spit of stony ground with a feeling of coming home.
“I think I’ll start a fire and make some tea,” Ayla said, running her hands down her arms to push the water off. She gathered up her hair and squeezed the water out, then headed for their pack baskets, gathering a few sticks of wood along the way.
“Do you want your clothes?” Jondalar asked, dropping more wood.
“I’d rather dry off a little first,” she said, noting that the horses were grazing on the steppes nearby, but not seeing any sign of Wolf. She felt a twinge of worry, but it wasn’t the first time he had gone off alone for half a day. “Why don’t you spread out the ground cover on that sunny patch of grass. You can relax while I make the tea.”
Ayla got a good fire going while Jondalar got some water. Then she selected the dried herbs from her store of them, thinking about them carefully. She thought alfalfa tea would be good, since it was generally stimulating and refreshing, with some borage flowers and leaves, which made a healthful tonic, and gillyflowers for sweetness and a mild spicy taste. For Jondalar, she also chose some of the deep red male catkins from alder trees that she had collected very early in the spring. She remembered having mixed feelings when she picked them, thinking of her Promise to mate with Ranec, but all the while wishing it was with Jondalar instead. She felt a warm glow of happiness as she added the catkins to his cup.
When it was done, she carried the two cups of tea to the patch of grass where Jondalar was relaxing. Part of the ground cover he had spread out was in the shade already, but she was just as glad. The heat of the day had already warmed away the chill of the swim. She handed him a cup and sat down beside him. They rested together companionably, sipping the refreshing drinks, not saying much, watching the horses standing together head to back, flicking flies away from each other’s faces with their tails.
When he finished, Jondalar lay back, his hands behind his head. Ayla was glad to see him more relaxed and not pushing to be up and going right away. She put her cup down, then stretched out on her side beside him, putting her head in the hollow below his shoulder, and her arm across his chest. She closed her eyes, breathing in his man scent, and felt him put his arm around her and his hand moving across her hip, in an unconscious gentle caress.
She turned her head and kissed his warm skin, then blew her breath toward his neck. He felt a slight shiver and closed his eyes. She kissed him again, then raised up and pressed a series of nibbling little kisses up his shoulder and neck. Her kisses tickled him almost more than he could bear, but it gave him such excruciating tingles of excitement, he resisted moving and forced himself to lie still.
She kissed his neck and throat, and his jaw, feeling the stubble of whiskers on her lips; then she lifted herself up until she reached his mouth and moved across his lips from one side to the other with her soft nibbles. When she reached the other side, she pulled back and looked down at him. His eyes were closed, but he had an expression of anticipation. Finally he opened his eyes and saw her leaning over him and smiling with absolute delight, her hair still damp and hanging over one shoulder. He wanted to reach for her, crush her to him, but he smiled back.
She bent down and explored his mouth with her tongue, so lightly he could hardly feel it, but the breeze blowing across the wetness sent unbelievable shivers through him. Finally, when he thought he could stand it no longer, she kissed him, firmly. He felt her tongue seeking entrance and opened his mouth to receive her. Slowly she explored inside his lips, and under his tongue, and the ribbed roof of his mouth, testing, touching, tickling, then barely kissed his lips with her light little nibbles until he couldn’t stand it. He reached up and grabbed her head and brought her to him as he lifted his head to give her a firm, strong, satisfying kiss.
When he dropped his head back and let go, she was gr
inning mischievously. She had made him react, and they both knew it. As he watched her, being so pleased with herself, he was pleased, too. She was feeling innovative, playful, and he wondered what other delights she had in store for him. A surge of sensation pulsed through him at the thought. This could turn out to be interesting. He smiled and waited, watching her with his startling, deep blue eyes.
She leaned across and kissed his mouth again, and his neck and shoulders and chest, then his nipples. Then, in a sudden shift, she got up on her knees at his side and leaned over him the other way, reached down and grasped his enlarged organ. As she took as much as she could hold into her warm mouth, he felt her moist warmth enclose the sensitive end of his manhood, and go farther. She pulled back slowly, creating suction, and he felt a pulling that seemed to draw from some deep internal place and extend throughout every part of him. He closed his eyes and let himself feel the growing enjoyment, as she moved her hands and warm, pulling mouth up and down his long shaft.
She probed the end with her exploring tongue, then made rapid circles around it, and he began to want her with more urgency. She reached down to take the soft pouch below his member in her hand, and gently—he had told her to always be gentle there—felt the two mysterious, soft, round pebbles within. She wondered about them, what they were for, and felt they were important in some way. As her warm hands cupped his tender sac, he felt a different sensation, pleasurable but with a touch of concern for this sensitive place, which seemed to stimulate him in another way.
She pulled away then and looked at him. His intense pleasure in her and what she was doing showed on his face and in his eyes as he smiled at her, encouraging her. She was enjoying the process of Pleasuring him. It stimulated her in a different, but deep and exciting way, and she understood a little why he so loved to Pleasure her. She kissed him then, a long lingering kiss, then pulled back and put her leg over him, straddling him, facing his feet.
Sitting on his chest, she bent over and took his hard throbbing member in her two hands, one above the other. Though he was hard, extended, his skin felt soft, and when she held it in her mouth, he felt smooth and warm. She made her soft nibbling kisses down its length. When she reached the base, she reached farther down for his pouch, and took it gently in her mouth, feeling the firm roundnesses inside.
He shuddered as jolts of unexpected Pleasure eddied through him. It was almost too much. Not only the tumultuous sensations he was feeling, but the sight of her. She had lifted up to reach him, and with her legs straddling him, he could see her moist, deep pink petals and folds, and even her delicious opening. She let go of his pouch and moved back to take his exciting, throbbing manhood into her mouth to suckle again, when she suddenly felt him move her back a little farther. Then, with an unexpected shock of excitement, his tongue had found her folds, and the place of her Pleasures.
He explored her eagerly, completely, using his hands and his mouth, suckling, manipulating, feeling the joy of Pleasuring her, and at the same time, the excitement she caused within him as she rubbed him back and forth while she suckled him.
She was ready quickly and could not hold back, but he was trying to, straining not to let go just yet. He could easily have given in, but he wanted more, so when she stopped as her charging senses overcame her, arching back and crying out, he was glad. He felt her wetness, then gritted his teeth as he struggled for control. Without their earlier Pleasures, he was sure he would not have been able to, but he held back and reached a plateau just before he peaked.
“Ayla, move around the other way! I want all of you,” he said.
She nodded, understanding. And, wanting all of him, too, she backed off and then straddled him the other way. Lifting up, she eased his fullness into herself, and then lowered down. He moaned and called her name, over and over, feeling her deep warm well receive him. She felt pressures in sensitive different places as she moved up and down, guiding the direction of the hard fullness inside her.
At the plateau he had reached, his need was not quite as urgent. He could take a little time. She leaned forward, in yet another, slightly different position. He pulled her closer so he could reach her enticing breasts, held one to his mouth, and suckled hard; then he reached for the other, and finally, holding them together, both at the same time. As always, when he suckled her breasts, he felt the quivering excitement deep and low inside her.
She could feel herself building again as she moved up and down and back and forth on him. He was rising above the plateau, feeling his stronger urges coming over him again, and when she sat back, he grasped her hips and helped guide her movements, pushing up and pulling down. He felt a surge as she lifted up, and then, suddenly, he was there. She moved down on him again, and he cried out with the quaking tremor that rose from deep in his loins in a towering eruption, as she moaned and shuddered with the burst that roared within her.
Jondalar guided her up and down a few more times, then pulled her down on him and kissed her nipples. Ayla quivered once more, then collapsed on him. They lay still, breathing hard, trying to catch their breaths.
Ayla was just beginning to breathe easy when she felt something wet on her cheek. For a moment she thought it was Jondalar, but it was cold as well as wet, and there was a different, though not unfamiliar, smell. She opened her eyes and looked into the grinning teeth of a wolf. He nosed at her again, and then between them.
“Wolf! Get away from here!” she said, pushing his cold nose and wolfish breath away, then rolled over on her side beside the man. She reached up and grabbed Wolf’s ruff and pulled her fingers through his fur. “But I am glad to see you. Where have you been all day? I was getting a little worried.” She sat up and held his head in her two hands and put her forehead down on his, then turned toward the man. “I wonder how long he’s been back.”
“Well, I’m glad you taught him not to bother us. If he had interrupted us in the middle of that one, I’m not sure what I would have done to him,” Jondalar said.
He got up, then helped her up. Taking her in his arms, he looked down at her. “Ayla, that was … what can I say? I don’t begin to have the words to tell you.”
She saw such a look of love and adoration in his eyes, she had to blink back tears. “Jondalar, I wish I had words, but I don’t even know any Clan signs that would show you what I feel. I don’t know if there are any.”
“You just did show me, Ayla, in much more than words. You show me every day, in so many ways.” Suddenly he pulled her to him and held her close, feeling his throat constrict. “My woman, my Ayla. If I ever lost you …”
Ayla felt a quiver of fear at his words, but she only held him tighter.
———
“Jondalar, how do you always know what I really want?” Ayla asked. They were sitting in the golden glow of the fire, sipping tea, watching sparks from the pitchy pine wood pop and send showers of sparks up into the night air.
Jondalar was feeling more rested, contented, and at ease than he had for some time. They had fished in the afternoon—Ayla showed him how she tickled a fish out of the water by hand—then she found soapwort and they had bathed and washed their hair. He had just finished a wonderful meal of some of the fish, plus the slightly fishy-tasting eggs of marsh birds, a variety of vegetables, a doughy cattail biscuit cooked on hot rocks, and a few sweet berries.
He smiled at her. “I just pay attention to what you tell me,” he said.
“But, Jondalar, the first time, I thought I wanted to make it last, but you knew better than I what I really wanted. And then later, you knew I wanted to Pleasure you, and you let me, until I was ready for you again. And you knew when I was ready for you. I didn’t tell you.”
“Yes, you did. Just not with words. You taught me how to speak like the Clan does, with signs and motions, not words. I just try to understand your other signs.”
“But I didn’t teach you any signs like that. I don’t really know any. And you knew how to give me Pleasures before you ever learned how to speak in t
he language of the Clan.” She was frowning with seriousness in trying to understand, which brought a smile to his face.
“That’s true. But there is an unspoken language among people who speak, much more than they may realize.”
“Yes, I’ve noticed that,” Ayla said, thinking how much she was able to understand about people they met just by paying attention to the signs they made without knowing it.
“And sometimes you learn how to … do some things just because you want to, so you pay attention,” he said.
She had been looking into his eyes, seeing in them the love he felt for her and the delight he seemed to be taking in her questions, and she noticed the unfocused look that came over him when he spoke. He stared into space as though he were seeing something far away for a moment, and she knew he was thinking of someone else.
“Especially when the one person you want to learn from is willing to teach you,” she said. “Zolena taught you well.”
He flushed, stared at her with shocked surprise, then looked away, disturbed.
“I’ve learned much from you, too,” she added, knowing her remark had troubled him.
He seemed unable to look directly at her. When he finally did, his forehead was knotted in a frown. “Ayla, how did you know what I was thinking?” he asked. “I mean, I know you have some special Gifts. That’s why the Mamut took you into the Mammoth Hearth when you were adopted, but sometimes you seem to know my thoughts. Did you take those thoughts from my head?”
She was sensing his concern and something more distressing, almost a fear of her. She had encountered a similar fear from some of the Mamutoi at the Summer Meeting when they thought she had some uncanny abilities, but most of it was misunderstanding. Like thinking she had some special control over animals, when all she did was find them when they were babies and raise them as her own.
But ever since the Clan Gathering, something had changed. She hadn’t meant to drink any of the special root mixture that she made for the mog-urs, but she couldn’t help it, and she hadn’t meant to go into that cave and find the mog-urs, it just happened. When she saw them all sitting in a circle in that alcove deep in the cave and … fell into the black void that was inside her, she thought she was lost forever and would never find her way back. Then, somehow, Creb had reached inside her and had spoken to her. Since then, there had been times when she did seem to know things that she couldn’t explain. Just like when Mamut took her with him when he Searched, and she felt herself rise up and follow him across the steppes. But as she looked at Jondalar and saw the strange way he was looking at her, a fear welled up inside her, a fear that she could lose him.