LION'S PRIDE

"Mayday! Mayday! This is Flight Alpha One Niner. Calling for help. Repeat! This is Flight Alpha One Niner. We are about to crash!"

The pilot slammed his fist into the dash of the diving airplane in frustration. Nothing! The whole bucket of bolts was going down, and not even the hiss of static escaped from the radio. Nothing that could at least bring the solace that he had been heard. Instead, like the rest of the electronic systems, it was out. Shorted. Compounded with a burst engine on the single-prop Cessna, the craft's fate was sealed.

It was time for the canopies...

Below, the lush green land of the Bolivian Forests stretched out like a carpet, as if trying to lure the handicapped aircraft with its apparent softness and comfort. But the pilot, Jacob Jacobbe, veteran of a hundred landings in Vietnam, knew the truth - the trees that were underneath the 'green carpet' would tear the craft in half, rupturing it and crushing the occupants within. Jacob had stared death in the face many times. It was his passengers he was afraid of.

There were just three of them, really, a family from California's Berkeley, on a vacation-cum-research trip to the South Americas. Blake Gerry was a professor at the world famous institute, well worded with over twenty books on surviving civilizations of the forests. The last one, about the Aborigines of Australia, had brought him close to the coveted International Researcher's Woodchuck Award - one of the most uncorrupted awards in the world. At thirty-eight, he still had a scientist's lifetime to get the title.

His wife, Maggie, at half a year younger, was not an academician - that probably explained why the Mister and Missus got together so well. She was in fact the true exponent of the newly rich, choosing to spend her free time with charitable causes like tea parties, Rotarian beauty contests and the like. She was a good person at heart; it was just that she was too caught up in the bandwagon to find her own place.

Amanda, the daughter of the house, was a swell-looking brunette who had no problem getting attention from the male persuasion wherever she went. A youthful, if slightly plump, figure with all the right curves in the right places, and with a brain to match, Amanda was every college senior's dream... until he discovered that her principles and interests went deeper than normal. Then it was, as a best friend put it subtly, 'breaking up time.'

Jacob felt underneath his seat for the metal clasp that would release the parachutes into the laps of his terrified passengers. There were around twenty chutes in all, but only three that he was sure would work. Blake, Maggie and Amanda could have them - like a good captain, he would go down, if he had to, with the plane. Besides, he didn't want it to crash into the dry brushes at the fringes, or worse, into the nearby town, erupting the whole place into flames.

Abruptly, the door opened with a loud noise. "Any help, guy?" Although years of teaching had taught him to modulate his voice well, Blake knew his tension showed. The altimeter was fairly steady, but the flight speed was dropping - less than eighty knots in the next few seconds, and the plane would come crashing down.

"Get out," the pilot roared back. "I am opening the lock now - strap the women onto the jump cable before opening the hatch. Count to three, and jump. Go!"

Blake turned around, the voice enough of a command for him to obey without reservation. Even as he clipped his wife's parachute line onto the jump-cable, he threw over his shoulder, "What about you?" He took what he heard was a grunt as his answer.

Twenty seconds later, three snow-white parachutes billowed open in quick succession, the wind bloating them into enormous proportions in less than a hundredth of a second. Above them, pilot Jacob Jacobbe prayed for their safety, as he relaxed the controls in his hand. There was no way the craft was going to hit something inflammable - it would crash way before the border came into view. Before him, a bare hill rose to a height just a few meters below the belly of the craft.

Jacob nosed the plane lower.

Blake shielded his eyes as the terrific explosion lit up the entire evening sky. The fireball built up into one huge orange sun before dissipating into the atmosphere. There were no other parachutes in the vicinity, the three in the air being the only survivors. Jacob had not bailed out. Somehow, that fact did not surprise Blake; in the short time that he had come to know the late pilot, the researcher had been impressed by the strength of his convictions and the unwavering sense of responsibility. And now, more than ever, they stood emphasized.

As is the nature of any living creature when its survival is under threat, Blake's instincts took over. There was no time to grieve, no time to dedicate. The ground would kiss them in a few minute's time - and unless they were prepared for the Gaean embrace, they would be rendered extinct.

Extinct in a godforsaken land, inhabited by godforsaken tribals.

For as far as he could make out, there was no sign of civilization ever having set foot there. There was, however, a small clearing towards the east. The landing strip. Blake clapped to his wife and daughter, who responded with wild-eyed fear. When he was sure he had their attention, Blake folded his hands and pointed to the patch below. At first, neither woman seemed to understand.

It was Amanda who understood her father's signal. "You mean, land in that meadow over there?" She said, pointing to the same land that Blake had indicated. At the closer distance, Blake saw that it was, indeed, a meadow - a wide, grass-covered plot in which grazed some wild boar. His wife nodded weakly, and Blake longed for the moment he could hold his loved ones in his arms again. On dry ground. On solid ground.

The landing was nothing short of a bone-breaking jar that sent shudders all the way up his spine to give him a momentary headache. Blake shook it off, concentrating on ensuring his family's safety first. Impatiently, he snapped off the cables of the chutes, almost tearing them off in his hurry. From a few feet into the nearby foliage, he could hear his daughter's cries for help. In spite of the hurt in his legs from the landing, Blake, ever the father, ran after the sound.

To his relief, Blake found his wife and daughter safe... well, almost safe. Although her mother was on the ground, Amanda had managed to entangle herself in the branches of a tree ten meters off the ground. She hung suspended on her parachute cables, dangling wildly with fear. As soon as she saw her father, she screamed even louder. "Daddy! Help! I am going to fall."

There was no time to climb all the way up the tree - there was just one other alternative. "Jump!" Blake commanded, "I will catch you. Don't worry, honey, Daddy will catch you. Just trust me." Amanda blinked at him for some time. Jump? Easy for him to say - he wasn't staring at the earth at over twenty feet above it. She was. And hardly dressed for a leap of faith...

That fact did not escape Blake's attention. His daughter had on a skirt, yes, but from his vantage position, he could see all the way up the curve of those legs, tanned and lithe, into a darker silhouette that he realized with a gasp was his daughter's pussy. A thin line started from between her legs and receded into the back of her ass, so clearly marked against the tan lines of her buttocks. The skirt billowed all around her, going up as far as her thighs, and the jungle wind, Blake knew, was notorious. Sudden gusts would come out of nowhere.

A branch snapped.

There was no more time to deliberate any other alternative. Maggie found her voice. "Jump, Am, jump! Daddy will catch you!"

Amanda closed her eyes and felt around for the release clasp. Her hands tugged at the metal piece twice before it gave way, freeing her from the strangling fiber cables. Her skirt came up to her face, blown all the way up by the air current under her falling body. She couldn't see where she was heading - the cotton cloth obscured her vision. All she felt was an instantaneous rush of adrenaline as the winds brushed against her naked pussy.

Blake positioned himself right underneath his daughter, timing his hands in such a way that they caught her around the waist just as her feet touched the ground. Unfortunately for him, his positioning was not so accurate - as he looked up in shocked realization, it was too late to move away. His daughter's crotch slammed against his face.

Amanda felt the coarse, unshaved beard of her father on her pussy just a bare moment before she slid into his arms, her hips braking themselves in his grip. Due to their closeness, her skirt was still stuck between them, but neither realized the embarrassment until they parted after the hug. They were safe.

As he moved away, Blake could smell his daughter's scent on the tip of his nose - scent left there by the accidental contact of her feminity. Absently, as he watched his wife and daughter hug each other, he rubbed the back of his palm against his nose. The scent remained, though, and Blake was aware, now that immediate danger had passed, that the touch had excited him. His nose still throbbed a little, but that only reminded him of how soft her pussy had felt against his face. His cock twitched guiltily.

Amanda collapsed on the forest floor, more out of relief than out of exertion. She watched her father wipe his nose, and it brought back memories of the jolt she had felt when her bare cunt had made contact with her father's nose. Unlike her father's nose, though, her pussy throbbed even more painfully, its heightened sensitivity obviously a very enticing characteristic. Without thinking, Amanda slid her skirt back all the way up, and above, her waist, baring her cunt to her parents. Her pussy hurt, and her only desire was to massage the sore hole.

Maggie watched in surprise as her daughter bared herself in this fashion in front of her father, but immediately dismissed all fears when she understood that it was a purely platonic reaction. She had witnessed the collision, and it was obviously more painful for the girl. She decided to say nothing.

Blake, on the other hand, was too worn out to make such a quick justification. "What are you doing, young lady?"

His stern voice surprised Amanda - she withdrew her hand hastily and pushed her skirt back over the cuntal hole. "Huh...huh... I mean - I am - I - I - Daddy, sorry. It was paining..."

Maggie broke in with a smile. "Look, honey, it's all right. Blake! Relax. We are safe, at least for the moment. Besides, don't you remember that she was in the toilet when Jacob lost control... and besides, to refresh your memory, you did poke your nose into her fanny."

She laughed at her joke - her husband merely grunted, his embarrassment covering up his arousal. Out of the corner of his eyes, he saw Amanda grin at her mother thankfully, and he suppressed a grin as a humorous thought came to him. Women! Thank God there were no shopping malls in jungles. The way mother and daughter teamed up on him nowadays, he felt he needed all the help he could get.

A sharp object whizzed past him, and even as he turned around, he feared the worst. The dart, around a couple of inches in length, had embedded itself in the base of his fainting wife's neck, the aim so sharp that not a single vein was touched. Amanda was the next target, taken out as swiftly and efficiently as her mother had been. Blake watched in disbelief as he watched his daughter slump back on to the ground.

They were being hunted!

That was the last thought in his head as the pinprick in his neck brought about his unconsciousness.

"Mr. Gerry. Mr. Gerry, are you alright?"

Blake opened his eyes, squinting as the shape of a head eclipsed the bright setting sun. His neck was stiff, a slight herbal smell emanating from an irritating leaf-bandage placed at where the dart had pierced him. As his senses cleared, Blake was aware that the man towering over him was in fact, a European. He was also aware of the fact that his stirring had caused quite a few unfamiliar eyes to turn towards him. Beside him, on either side, he felt movement - without looking, he knew it was his wife and daughter.

"Hello, mate," the other outsider said, helping him to get into a sitting position. Blake recognized the remaining crumbs of an Australian accent, making a mental note of the fact while attempting to clear his groggy head. "How are you feeling? You got an awful lump on your head when you bonked out on the roots, mate. Want some water?"

Blake drank the water gratefully, wondering only briefly about the hygiene. As he drained the last drop of water, he saw the Aussie looking at him, as if evaluating him. Blake gave the glass back and looked around the room. Local men, dark-skinned, clothed only around the torso, thronged at the door. Inside, beside his unconscious family, on either side of them, fanning them with a long leaf, were females, dressed in a long skirt and a pale-green leaf top. The dress would have been provocative in civilization, but Blake recalled that tribals rarely dressed this much. The Aborigines practically went around naked!

He held out his hand. "Thanks... I think. Where are we? And why were we attacked?"

The Aussie grinned. "The name's Pete - Pete Grousin. Aussie until me and my family crashed around here. 'Twas a car, though, but they never found us. After all, you are in the middle of a thick jungle." Outside, a lion - A LION!!!??? - roared, as if emphasizing his statement. "To be precise, though, you are with the Lion's Pride."

"The Lion's Pride?"

"Yup, mate, that's what we call ourselves. Pardon the unity, but if you spend a couple of weeks with them, you get to realize they are a whole lot better than the bunch back home. The Lion's Pride - you see, mate, these folks believe that the lion is their supreme God. Their deity. And they follow the lifestyle they believe to be of the lions'. Follow me, mate?"

"So far, yes."

"Good, because here comes the tricky part. I don't know how lions are, elsewhere in the wide world, but out here, they are a closely bunched family. By that, I mean that they breed among themselves."

"Most animals do that - they have got better gene pools."

"Maybe. I am not really an animal specialist. But I guess they - the rest of them - don't go about it as organized as these things do."

"Meaning?"

"You know the basic cycle - mammals give birth, they feed the young ones, the young ones grow up, they leave home, they find mates and they settle down." Blake nodded. "Out here, the first part happens, alright, but instead of leaving to find their own prides, the young lionesses stay back. Their mother - and here's the clincher - bows out of the lead, and the eldest daughter takes over as the hunting head. As you probably know, the lion doesn't do anything - he leaves the hunt to his females. He is good only for breeding, and he resumes it with his daughter. The first mate is gradually pushed out of the picture until she is no longer intrinsic to the pride.

"That's what these people practice."

Pete paused for a moment to let the facts sink in. He knew what Blake was feeling - disbelief, and a good dose of revulsion. Animals are incestuous, granted, but an entire tribe? Jesus, that was ridiculous. Exactly what he had thought when he had first understood the tribal lifestyle.

"So what you are telling me," Blake said, slowly drawing out his words, "Is that these people actually marry their daughters?"

Pete nodded. "Nail on the head, mate. But don't get us wrong - the girls are virgins until they turn eighteen - ironically, the legal age - and it is only then that their father - or anyone else, for that matter - can sleep with them. The boys can marry their sisters, mothers, or any other female who agrees to it. As you can see, a very open society."

Blake pounced on the word 'Us'. "You said us - you mean, you and your daughter..."

"For the last two years, mate, we have been husband and wife. And loving every moment of it."

"Jeesus -"

"Don't swear it, mate, until you've tried it." Noticing the shocked expression on Blake's face, Pete grinned. "The people here think you are the reincarnation of the Gods. They saw the fireball, and you floated down from the sky ... make your own conclusions. They put two and two together, and came up with a very agreeable three. No - before you make a ruckus, let me remind you - these people are so into their idea that you are their God, that if you tell them you aren't, they might probably kill you. Second, so that it won't be a shock later, you will be marrying your daughter tonight."

"What?" It wasn't Blake; it was an even more shocked Amanda.

Pete smiled reassuringly at the indignant girl, and barked a few orders to the tribals beside her. Before the teen could protest, the women whisked her out of the room. Almost automatically, the rest of the women pulled Maggie and took her outside, all within the space of ten coordinated seconds. Blake instinctively got up, but Pete's strong hand on his shoulder warned him not to make any sudden moves. For some strange reason, he had to trust this stranger.

"Relax, mate. They are going to be just fine - now that they are alright, they need to get dressed for the wedding."

"Wait a god dam minute! I never said-"

"You don't have a choice," came the harsh interruption. "It's either that, or death. You won't be condemning yourself alone - you are killing your loved ones too."

"Can't you put the record straight?"

"And risk being a pariah? No way, my friend. I love it too much here ... I love my life with my daughter. I am not going to throw that all away."

Blake was silent for a minute, and Pete respected that silence. The man needed to think, and Pete had never been one to make judgments on others' behalf. At length, Blake drew in a long breath. "Mag and Amanda ... they have to be told."

"My daughter's already doing that."

Blake gave the Aussie a look that was part thankful, and part contemptuous. It wasn't a joy ride he was talking about - he was having to marry his own daughter, for crying out loud. "You have thought of everything, haven't you?"

"It's my duty to the chief - act as a liaison between you. Look, if it is any consolation, I know exactly how you feel. I was there myself, remember. And unlike you people, these folks thought of me as enemies at first - until I opened my big mouth and shouted that the girl beside me was my daughter... Before I knew it, the ceremony had been conducted, and my daughter was already my wife.

"My wife was given another hut to stay in, which she shared with our guide. I couldn't say anything because I was locked up inside a hut, with my daughter. For two weeks, we managed to maintain a platonic relationship - a relationship that went to the brink because of the close quarters we were in. To top it all, we were starting to see ourselves as people, not just family, and before I knew it, our little signs of affection grew more explicit.

"Then one day, my wife ran away.

"I don't blame her - if I could have, I would have escaped too, but that was then. With her out of the way, there was no more holding me back. I fell hard for my daughter, and she felt the same way about me. That night, when my wife had been gone for two days, we made love for the first time. That was when I realized that I could never leave this place - for it is the only place on earth where I can publicly announce my daughter as my wife.

"Mate, I know it is tough, but you will get used to it. Don't try to escape - it is impossible. God knows how my wife made it out of here. Besides, if you are that sure your daughter isn't attracted to you, then marriage won't be a problem - it would be the same as if you were back home, spending a few days at your daughter's place. Think of it that way, mate."

Blake nodded. The man made some sense, after all. The only problem was that Blake, after today's accident with her crotch, wasn't sure what his feelings for his daughter were, exactly. He was starting to lust after her, his own daughter, and he wasn't sure how the license of a marriage would help. But compared to death, it was definitely the lesser evil.

"If my daughter says no, that is it - I don't care if I get killed, but that would be my decision."

"She has already agreed," a female voice chirped in.

Blake turned around - his back had been to the door - to see a fair-skinned woman, about twenty-two or -three, with all the significant features of her father. A pregnant belly protruded from the confines of her long skirt that left all but her shoulders covered. Pete walked over to the woman and hugged her gently, taking care not to push against her tummy.

"I am Sandy," Pete's daughter spoke. "Amanda agreed to marry you. She tried to put forward that she was unsure, but your wife convinced her that it was quite all right. I must say, Maggie appears to be more excited by the upcoming marriage than the to-be weds are."

Blake found one last arrow in his quiver. "What if we agree to be the Gods, but say we don't have to marry because it was all a mistaken belief?"

Even before he had finished, Pete was shaking his head. "Wouldn't work, mate. I put a feeler for something along those lines, and the chief told me that your blood would flow even then. These people believe more in their tradition and customs than in anything else, and not even a 'reincarnation' can make them change their beliefs. Besides, you are just a reincarnation - you are not the actual thing."

The evening sun spread orange rays over the sky, but Blake was hardly in a mood to enjoy the beautiful scenery. He felt the same jitterbugs that he had felt when he had married Maggie, his bride's mother. His bride, Blake mused. What must she be thinking, meeting at the altar her own father, the man who had caused her birth in the first place? Would he be left jilted at the altar? He wished he would be.

Trumpets blared. The chief walked with all his regal bearing, accompanied by a young woman who had a crying baby in her arms. Father and daughter - no, husband and wife. The more Blake willed himself not to, the more he found himself picturing how life would be with his daughter and their - his and Amanda's - child. He tried to shake the thought off, but before he could, it gave him an erection. The loincloth around his torso did nothing to disguise the tent. Blake shuffled uncomfortably, painfully aware that his erection would not go down before his daughter came there. To their wedding.

The door to a nearby hut opened, and Blake's eyes popped out. For coming towards him, head lowered demurely, a red cloth around her waist and only glittering jewels above, with her breasts bared for the world to see, was his daughter. Blake couldn't take his eyes off her - he had never thought that someone could be so beautiful. The Pride had certainly chosen the right Goddess. Now if only they didn't want her father to marry her...

But, a voice told him, he wanted to marry her. He wanted to take her as his wife.

Blake tried to shake his head to clear the cobwebs, but the head barely moved; he stared motionless at the approaching semi-nude beauty that was his daughter. She raised her eyes shyly at him, only once, and seeing his intense gaze, averted them. As far as Amanda was concerned, this was her crowning moment - the moment her mother had issued the 'no objection' certificate, Amanda knew - rather, she gave in - to the desire of being her father's woman.

Step by step. Closer to the man she called "Daddy." Closer to the moment he would become something else. She walked forward, shy, but confident of herself. The short path ended at her father's feet, in front of a large idol of two lions. Even in the midst of the tribal chants, she could hear her heart beat; her nipple throbbed visibly in tandem with her excited core. An entourage of six other women accompanied her to the vicinity of the altar, but they would come no further. She would walk the last three steps to her father's side alone.

"Psst," whispered Maggie as she slid in beside her husband. "Doesn't she look gorgeous?"

Blake nodded without looking back. Maggie smiled to herself, surprisingly acquiescent with her husband's preoccupation. Gracefully, she moved back into the crowd.

Since Pete was the only person who could understand Blake, it was decided that the former Australian citizen would be the priest for the wedding. Chants rose to a crescendo as Amanda walked alone towards her father, only to fall into silence as the priest spoke. "The Gods be thanked for gracing us with Your Sight, Your Presence and Your Matrimonial. With Your wedding do we wish to pay our respects to those above us, far and beyond all of us, to the very limits of the Universe that you Gods have created for us." Pete drew closer to the bride and the groom. In a lower voice, he said, "I now pronounce you man and wife. Blake Gerry, you may now kiss the bride."

With just a second's hesitation, Amanda moved her face towards Blake, tilting her head suggestively. Blake covered her lips with his, his doubt of whether the kiss was part of the usual custom ignored at the first touch of her soft lips. As soon as he kissed his daughter, Blake knew it was special - no hard evidence, just a gut feeling. Amanda closed her eyes as his tongue invaded her mouth, accepting the invitation. Her tongue slid underneath his, like two serpents mating with each other. He thrust his tongue down as far as he dared, tasting the darkest nook and cranny of her mouths. For her part, Amanda did nothing else but survey the underside of her father's serpentine oral, drawing forth stray drops of saliva onto hers.

For well over two minutes, the two lovers kissed. As they pulled away, the crowd roared thrice, the last roar the loudest. For the first time that evening, Blake looked at his wife, suddenly unsure of her reaction. She smiled back at him, a sign that she wasn't angry. Then she winked at him and pointed at Amanda, the blushing bride. "Carry her," she mouthed.

Another cheer erupted as Blake literally swept his daughter off her feet and carried her out of the sacred plot. Pete moved alongside him and pointed to a large hut a few meters ahead. "There's your palace, mate. Your new home."

Maggie suddenly appeared beside them and gave them a quick peck on their cheeks. "Mom!" Amanda squealed. "What do you think?"

"You two make a lovely couple, you know that?" her mother teased. "I mean that - you two look positively made for each other. My best wishes."

"You aren't angry?" interjected the new husband.

"Of course not, silly. I guess I knew it would come to this one day. I mean, what father can resist such a beautiful daughter who is already in love with him... and what girl can resist her father's affection?"

"You knew?" Amanda rounded her eyes at her mother. It had always been her little secret, but it seemed as if her mother had been in on it for some time.

Maggie smiled patronizingly at her daughter. "Just call it a mother's instinct." She stroked her flat belly. "One day, you will, too."

Pete held up his hands, and almost immediately, the entire crowd dropped back. "You are on your own, mate," he said to the newlyweds. "The night is yours." He motioned for Maggie to follow him. Maggie held a thumb up before turning around and going back.

Blake looked at his daughter, lying across his arms as he carried her towards their new home. His fears had been allayed - no one had any objections, least of all his lovely bride, and at the moment, that was all that mattered to him. She smiled back at him, dreamily gazing into his eyes and finding infinite love there. She returned his unspoken words of love with eyes of her own, answering him with the same love he held her.

The hut had a single room, with a large straw cot in the middle of the room. On a three-legged table were kept various fruits and vegetables - their nuptial feast - and a clay jug. A bright oil lamp, fuelled by some lac of the jungle trees, burned steadily over the cot, throwing its light all over the room. Blake carried his daughter towards the cot and dropped her gently down. He looked at her form for a couple of seconds, drawing in her virgin beauty. Amanda allowed herself to be studied, and stretched full length against the cot.

Amanda held out her hands, motioning for her father to join her. Blake slid in next to her, surprised that the fragile looks of the cot had disguised its strength. Even as he slid into position, Amanda moved on top of him, and placed her head on his bare chest. They enjoyed the feel of each other's body against their own, the warmth and the intimacy catalyzing their desires for each other.

Blake placed his hands on the hem of her cloth and pushed it down. Amanda assisted by raising her hips so that her father could slide the material off her body even more easily. Simultaneously, her fingers undid the knot of his loincloth. As her bare crotch came into contact with his, a sigh escaped her excited body - he exuded a grunt. His cock stuck out like a flagpole, obscenely intruding upon the dark confines of her warmth. The patch of hair above her feminity crinkled against his, shooting bolts of electricity across each one of them.

Their lips sought each other again, and they kissed with renewed passion this time. Animal instincts began to take over as the two lovers ground their pelvic regions together, her wetness and his hardness the eternal aggressors into the other's territory. Moans came hard and fast as the intensity of the kiss increased. In their rabid, animal movements, his cock entered her pussy. Barely the tip had gone in when the two of them stopped in mid-motion.

They looked into each other's eyes.

Words were unnecessary as they realized the wanton needs of the other, the requirement of the ultimate consummation. Amanda sat up, the action pushing her father's cock even deeper into her pussy. She paused for a second as his tip touched her skin, and then, while diving for his mouth, impaled herself to the root on his engorged member. Blake wanted to love her - love every inch of her - before he entered her, but Fate had intervened. The other aspects of lovemaking would find some other time. For the moment, though, they wanted to reach for the stars together.

Amanda cried out loudly as she came, her cuntal walls squeezing his shooting member. Below her, Blake, usually a silent lover, had no other alternative but to give voice to his pleasure as well. They came together, their orgasm dying out within seconds of each other. They collapsed into a heap, a mass of sweating bodies.

"Tell me, my dear Amanda," her father panted, "Was it really as good for you as it was for me?"

"Better," came the hoarse, daughterly reply. "To top it all, it is my first time. Just wait until you teach me more..."

"God save me! You are going to give me a heart attack, girl. More of this... Jeesus!" Amanda giggled at her father's tone of abject resignation.

"You deserve it, my man," she cooed in his ear. Her long hair fell around their faces as an exotic tent of their own. It spelled intimacy in bold letters.

"I like that - being your man."

"I love it - being your woman, Daddy. But you know what I want more?"

"What, honey?"

"Your... the mother of your children, Daddy. I want to have our own family, our own kids. And then, one day, our grandkids..."

"I see what you mean... Honey, I am ready if you are."

"In that case, brace yourself. My period is due in a couple of day's time."

"Couple of days, huh? Gives us enough time."

"Enough time for what?"

"'Ough time to make some juice." Blake reached for an orange kept on the bedside table - God knew where these people got such fruits in the middle of the forest, but he was hardly in any mood to trace its origins. He parted the rest of her smooth hair on her back, letting them drop to her sides before he squeezed the orange dry. The cool sap dripped on to Amanda's back, and she shuddered at the sensitive contact. With his free hand, Blake spread the juice all over the small of her back. "And lap it up."

Maggie smiled to herself as the sounds of loving emanated from the hut again. Behind her, the tribal party was reaching its peak, its crescendo preventing any of the new couple's sounds form being heard. Beyond the 'wedding' hut of her husband and daughter stretched the dark forest. Deep. Inviting.

Wordlessly, she slid into the darkness.