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I raise up and kiss her neck. The Bitch wants to pull away, but my wife won’t let her. There’s a brief struggle, and her head tilts slightly, exposing more of her neck.I smile. Not a happy smile; it’s the joyless smile of a soldier moving the selector switch from “safe” to “semi”.I kiss her neck again, just at the hairline behind the jaw. Letting the edges of my teeth rake her skin, letting my unshaved skin grate against her soft skin. She shivers and goosebumps spring up instantly all down her neck. And further: I can just glimpse her nipples, incredibly hard against her thin pajama top. Her breathing shifts, shallower, but more rapid.I can also see a rip in the collar of her pajama top, just below the hollow of her throat. I give a small, real, smile. My wife is a clever, clever girl. And the Bitch underestimated her again.I force my left arm under her – between her arm and her body. I reach up with it and grip the hair on the left side of her head. All the Bitch has to do to stop. The Chief was effectively proclaiming to his tribe not only that he was unfaithful to his wife but that he didn’t care that she knew. Since Ivory’s first tentative and not wholly successful Sapphic encounter with Ptarmigan under her husband’s lascivious eyes, this experiment in sexual arithmetic had been repeated with rather less ceremony on several subsequent occasions. Ivory wasn’t sure why Chief Cave Lion wanted his wife to have intimate relations with his youthful paramour. Was it to further humiliate her? Was it just his sexual desire to fuck more than one partner at the same time? Was it, as he claimed, merely to ensure there were no secrets between him and his wife? Or was it because the Chief’s wife also desired sexual relations with a woman? Ptarmigan was a woman reluctant to make a lewd display of nakedness in front of her husband while Ivory licked her vagina or kissed her on the mouth. She didn’t have a natural inclination toward open sexual expression like Glade or even.
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