The wild Night part 4

The wild Night part 4

She found herself lying before the fire in the great teepee. The fire had burned down to coals and provided only a muted red light. Her shirt was off, and her jeans were down around her ankles. Her skin glistened with a sheen of sweat and her nipples stood out from her heaving breasts. Andrea's hand was between her legs and sticky with her juices. Her whole body was taut with the need inside her, and she would have finished herself off, if it had not been for her grandmother watching her from across the fire.

Andrea blushed scarlet and quickly pulled up her jeans, wiping her hand on them before pulling on and buttoning her blouse. She was not particularly embarrassed by nudity or even by arousal, but with her grandmother watching, it was a little different.

"Welcome back my child."

"What was that thing?" Andrea asked, forgetting her embarrassment.

"That was the wendigo, a spirit of evil. In this case, of the evil you carry inside yourself."

"Inside myself?"

"We all carry evil within us, greed, lust, anger, fear. The wendigo is the personification of your own inner evil on the spirit plane."

"What did it want?"

"Control. To lose the battle with the wendigo is to lose your ability to control your own baser nature."

"How do you know I won?"

"You did not reach bliss and you are talking to me; therefore, you were victorious," the old woman said simply.

Andrea eyed her critically for a few long seconds before asking the question on her lips.

"Is the contest the same for everyone?" she asked hesitantly. The idea of her grandmother giving head to a representation of herself was rather disturbing.

"For women, it is. For men it is usually a contest of strength, although for certain shaman it has been a contest of wits."

"Why didn't you tell me!?"

"Can you tell me, child? What was the contest?"

"Of course, I can! It was..." Andrea found herself drawing a complete blank for words. "I mean, she..." Sex you idiot! Just say it, she had sex with you, Andrea thought. Still, no words would come out. Her grandmother's wise old eyes showed some amusement and a great deal of sorrow.

"It is not given to us to warn others of what they face, save in the vaguest terms. If I could have given such warning, you would never have been here.

I would have warned my daughter of what she faced."

"My mother?"

"Yes, child. Before you were conceived, your mother was a beautiful young maiden. She was chaste and pure. I think perhaps that was her downfall.

On a night much like this, I watched her scream out her pleasure, and could do nothing but cry. Her base nature took control of her life. You have always hated her, disdained her, and held it against me that I would not disown her. Perhaps in the days to come, you will look to her with pity rather than contempt."

"I... perhaps," Andrea finished. She felt at a loss for words. Imagining herself as her mother, a slave to her worst traits, was sobering.

"Enough of these dark thoughts. You have won a great victory. In the days that I have left we will have time for me to teach you all that you wish to know of the wendigo and the many other things that await the unwary in the spirit world. For now, go and celebrate your victory. You will find things are not the same as they once were."

"What do you mean?'

"You have triumphed over your own baser nature. Never again will you be cowed by fear or anger or greed. The power that brings is... liberating,"

"One more question, Grandmother. Is there just one wendigo? Is it still there nursing its hatred? Or is there one for everyone?"

"The wendigo are legion. One exists for every person upon this side.
Every person except those who have destroyed their wendigo, as you have, and I have. The world is a slightly better place because of you.

Ever so slightly, you have tipped the scales towards the good on the other side, and thus on this side as well, but you must always be wary, for the Wendigo all know what you have accomplished, they share a common memory and consciousness and forever will they hunt you when you are on the other side," the old woman said.

Andrea saw pride in her old eyes, and she blushed.

She stood and tucked her blouse into her jeans, then stooped to kiss her grandmother on the cheek and walked out into the cool air of a desert morning. She had been in the spirit world for much longer than she had imagined. The fires had burned out and most of her grandmother's followers were asleep. The black widows sat around a pile of coals passing a nearly empty bottle of whiskey. They all turned to watch her as she approached.

"It's done," she said simply.

"Good, my ass is sore and I'm freezing so let’s get the fuck out of this godforsaken desert," Lina groused.

Andrea looked with loving eyes at the big Indian woman and impulsively bent to kiss her nose.

The others nodded in agreement, and they all mounted up. Andrea slid behind Lina and wrapped her arms around the big woman's waist. She flattened her palm against the biker's stomach and forced her hand inside Lina's leathers. Her hand found the big woman's heavy strap on dildo and began to stroke her.

"Damn, girl."

"Okay let's head to the clubhouse, Lina. I'm fucking dying for it."

"Well, you should be," Lina grunted. "Least you can do to make up for dragging my happy ass out here for nothing."

"Was it that bad?" Andrea whispered in her ear, taking the time to tongue the big woman's earlobe.

"Bet your ass it was, girly, and I'm going to take it out of your hide," Lina grumbled, but Andrea knew she was not mad. Lina played the big bad butch for her, because that is what she wanted, but behind the bluster, Lina was as gentle as a lamb.

As the bikes roared to life, Andrea thought of the wendigo and of the strange contest. She smiled to herself as she felt the rumble of the engine begin to excite her already soaking pussy.

You did not have a prayer, you poor bitch, she thought to herself. But how could you know? How could you hope to get me off when you have never spent a night on the business end of Lina Running bear’s cock? You did not stand a chance in hell.

Andrea held tight and buried her face in her lover's back. She smiled again and inhaled deeply, enjoying Lina's scent. In a twinkling, the six bikes were lost from sight. Soon, not even the roar of their engines could be heard.

In the small cave, the female wolf stirred, as the sun crest the horizon and then returned to sleep.

END OF THE WILD NIGHT