Potawatomi Love Story by Erin O’Riordan


Lonidaw sat in the growing, purple shadow of the birch tree outside the lodge. Carefully, she reached into the leather pouch she wore at her side and pulled out a small handful of porcupine quills. Her quills had been dyed bright red with the juice of the season’s last strawberries. She was glad to have some time before it got dark to spend on her quill work. As much as she would enjoy the sweet taste of dried huckleberries throughout the winter, it wasn’t winter yet, and Loni was tired of looking at them. The process of picking and preserving the fruit required the help of every woman in the village. If it were up to her, Loni would rather be decorating her family’s clothes with the intricate designs she alone knew how to coax from simple dyed quills. Or better yet, spending time alone with Ash.

His full name was Wisgat; he was named for the black ash tree, so she called him Ash for short. They’d only been married since that spring. Late spring, in fact, when Ash, his relatives, and most of the bear clan had already moved into the summer wigwam. More than she anticipated the end of huckleberry-picking season and the powwow that marked this occasion, what Loni really wanted was to set up a winter dwelling with Ash. Then they’d finally have some alone time in a place of their own, and wouldn’t have to sneak off into the woods every time they wanted to get naked.

Loni had known Ash all her life, though she was from the turtle clan. One never married inside one’s own clan, probably because all those hot summer nights in the multi-family wigwam made you only too familiar with the members of your own clan. You got to know their quirks, their odd little habits, what they sounded like when they snored. When Loni married Ash, he was still a mystery to her. Being married to him was like unwrapping a gift slowly, a little more each day.

If I think about him too much, I’ll never get any work done,Loni told herself.

“Hey,” Ash said. Loni looked up; he’d come from the riverbank and was standing under the birch tree beside her.

Loni smiled widely. “How was fishing today?”

Ash smirked. “I caught eleven red-eyes, and Little Turtle only caught seven.”

She slipped her quills back into her pouch, stood, and threw her arms around him. Sure, Ash smelled a little like fish, but Loni didn’t mind. She shared in his pride; he was always happy when he caught more fish than his cousin.

“How was your day?” Ash asked as Loni buried her face in his ponytail and kissed the side of his neck.

She paused. “The usual,” she said. She held up her hands to show him her fingers were still purple from picking huckleberries.

Ash reached up and captured Loni’s hand in his. “But you’ve got to be near the end of the harvest, right?” He brought her hand to his mouth and kissed it. Ash’s light brown eyes were shining, and she could tell there was something else on his mind.

“Yeah,” she said. “We’re on the last field, I’m sure.”

“Good,” he said. “I bet you’ll be happy to get back to quill work and sewing full time.”

She grinned. “I’ll be happy if I get the chance to finish our fancy dress before the powwow.” Still holding Loni’s hand, Ash used it to pull her in closer to him. He was so close now, she could feel his hot breath against her lips. She shivered, anticipating Ash’s kiss. He hesitated another long moment, drawing out the anticipation, before he brought his lips to hers.

As Ash kissed her, his arms encircled her. Loni was in her favorite place in the world, pressed up against Ash. She could feel his erection through his leathers. “Do we have time to go to the woods before dinner?” she asked him.

“No,” he replied. He spun her around so that she was pressed up against the birch tree. Only her hands, held out in front of her, came between her and the rough bark. He pushed her skirt up over her hips. Loni giggled. She was already so wet; Ash’s touch always seemed to do this to her. He laughed as the tip of his cock reached her pussy lips. “You’re like a river,” he said close to her ear.

She took him in easily, shivering with delight as one of Ash’s big hands held her waist and the other reached around to tease her nipple. Bracing herself against the birch and arching her feet to get up on tiptoe, she let Ash set the pace. His strokes were quick and hungry. Loni’s heart fluttered like a hummingbird as he slid in and out of her. She lost her breath, and all at once she felt her release. Loni bit her lip to stop herself from crying out and attracting the entire bear clan’s attention.

“Yeah,” Ash murmered, thrusting into Loni deeper and harder than before. She moaned and twisted as her orgasm intensified. He pulled back, gave her one more deep thrust, then came along with her.

They’d barely had time to catch their breath and smooth their clothes back into place when Ash’s sister, Wind Moves Through Sweetgrass, came around the corner of the lodge. “You two stink,” she said.

“I was fishing,” Ash said, leaning against the birch. “What do you expect?”

Wind Moves Through Sweetgrass smirked. “Sure, fishing. Speaking of which, Quiet River almost has dinner ready.”

“Thanks,” Ash said. As Windy walked away, Ash backed Loni up against the birch again and kissed her lips. “Did you like that?” he asked her.

Loni stared into Ash’s face, at his boyish grin. “You always ask me that,” she said. “Do I ever tell you no?”

“Of course not,” he said, rather smugly. Ash was so cute when he was smug and self-satisfied. They kissed again, until Loni finally pulled away, deciding it was time to join the others for dinner.

About the author: Erin O’Riordan studied psychology and women’s studies at a prominent Catholic women’s college. Her erotic stories, essays, and film reviews have been published in numerous magazines and websites including The Erotic Woman, Oysters & Chocolate, and Clean Sheets. Blog: www.erinoriordan.blogspot.com

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