Tribal Hunt Pt. 01 - Sex Stories

Tribal Hunt Pt. 01

All characters are 18 or older.

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CHAPTER 1. BLOOB BIRD TRIBE

Anarungu stood over the dead body. He couldn't believe it.

His father was dead. He had been dastardly poisoned. Someone from his tribe had done it. He knew it for a fact.

Chief Anaragwan's body lay on a pedestal, among the huts and trees, surrounded by the priests and tribesmen of Blood Bird.

Anarungu gripped his spear tightly, holding back his anger as the priests prepared to burn the body.

"Hush, my nestling." His mother touched his shoulder, feeling the anger that came over him.

"I am calm, Mother." Anarungu didn't want to look at her. He glanced to the other end of the crowd, where, with his head proudly raised, stood the curse of the Blood Bird tribe. It was Chief Anaragwan's brother - Naragasa, Anarungu's uncle.

"Traitor had long wished to take my father's place."

His mother silently stroked his head, not hearing his angry words, and stood beside him. He looked at her.

She looked beautiful, the chief's wife with long black dreadlocks and large breasts with bulging nipples whose majesty was never hidden by any clothing. The women of the tribe did not wear outer garments that covered their breasts, much less the chief's wife. So it was hard for him to look at her.

Her full-of-life voluptuous breasts with bulging pink nipples drove him crazy and filled his head with the most horrid thoughts.

"She's my Mom, the one who gave me life, like Mother Earth or Mother Sky—Mother ...

... Gnelsey. My Mother. Can I think the same way of earth or sky, food or water?

On the other hand, I am a man. I have to mate and produce new children. And my mother is a woman, just like the others. Is it wrong that I find her attractive?"

He turned away, swallowing, feeling the tension in his chest and below his legs.

What mattered most now was not his complicated relationship with his mother, but the fact that his father was dead. The tribe chief had been killed.

"Brothers and sisters of the Blood Bird tribe," one of the elders spoke in the tribal throat language. "

"Today, our hearts wrapped with sorrow because we lost some one special. We gathered here today to say goodbye to our great leader, the great Anaragwan the Great Ara. His feathers like fire lit our path.

Anaragwan was wise, like a sturdy tree that provided comfort and protection. He possessed strength, comparable to a bow ready to face any challenge thrown at him by fate. We, the Blood Bird, will always be thankfull for the peace he brought into our lives. Now, as his wings carry him into eternal life, we will carry on his legacy. May Anaragwan the Great Ara find peace. At last. Goodbye, Anaragwan."

Several men pointed torches toward the body, red feathers on their heads. They shouted, beginning to sing as the fire engulfed the body.

The priests began to sing along and beat their drums, seeing the chief off on his last journey.

Anarungu sighed, lowering his spear. His eyes, painted with ...