My Second Life
Chapter 8

Copyright© 2011 by Veritas

Science Fiction Sex Story: Chapter 8 - Another back to the stone ages story. Watch John Milton, formerly a tired old man, try to take advantage of a second chance at youth and vitality. Only he has to do it on a wild and violent pre-historic world. Future chapters will have violence and possibly off scene sexual violence and rape.

Caution: This Science Fiction Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa   Fa/Fa   Consensual   BiSexual   Heterosexual   Science Fiction   Time Travel   First   Oral Sex   Petting   Slow   Violence  

It took a few minutes to find a suitable spot for Jena and I to bathe. Some place where it could be easy to get in and then out of the water, where the current wasn't too strong and where there was stable ground to plant our feet on.

And no, I wasn't taking my sweet time about it in order to enjoy the feel of my naked mate, squirming over my shoulder. Any enjoyment I got out of it was completely incidental. Even if there was any occasional groping of her thighs and shapely ass with my free hand, it was solely for safety's sake. I was just making sure that she didn't slip off my shoulder and fall.

I swear, the groping was just a very happy side benefit.

I eventually found a place, and gingerly dropped the towels, toiletries and shotgun on top of the flat and relatively level surface of a conveniently located rock, partially submerged in the gently flowing river. With one arm now free, I shifted Jena from an over the shoulder fireman's carry, to one much more suitable for carrying a bride over the threshold. The rapid shift of position had disoriented her and her shrieks of protest were thankfully silenced.

At least for the moment.

Wide-eyed, red faced and sputtering, it seemed like she couldn't decide if she should be amused, embarrassed, exasperated or turned on. Before she could fully catch her bearings and start in on me again, I took advantage of the opportunity to kiss her as I slowly walked into the river.

It seemed as if "turned on" was winning - she quickly got over her surprise and joined in the fun, squirming excitedly in my arms and passionately kissing me back. We both moaned and groaned as our tongues dueled in each other's mouths, her hands grasped the hair on the back of my head possessively. I don't know for how long, but we were both panting for breath, with the water reaching well over mid-thigh, when we eventually parted.

Let me tell you, for a girl who didn't know how to french kiss just a short time ago, Jena sure as hell was a quick and eager learner.

"Put me down Jon." Jena told me, slapping my chest. She was trying to sound strict and demanding, but failing miserably thanks to her smile.

For a split second, I contemplated just dropping her into the cold water, but I wisely decided not to. Sure, it would have been funny ... for about ten seconds. Then I'd spend who knows how long paying for it, over and over again, until she was finally satisfied. And you can be damn sure that she'd always remember to bring it up whenever she was mad at me.

Having some previous experience with a wife can pay off.

Instead, I gradually lowered her into the water, so that she would become somewhat accustomed to the low temperature.

Despite my recent personal experience with how the primitive people on Midgard weren't all that hung up on basic cleanliness, especially compared to the modern and sanitary civilization I had left behind on Earth, that didn't mean that they were completely ignorant of the concept and necessity of occasionally washing themselves. You see, if your continued survival depends on your ability to hunt and stalk your food without being noticed, stinking to high heaven of sweat, piss and shit is not really an advantage. Also, it's definitely not smart to walk around smelling like fresh blood, after spending the last couple of hours skinning and butchering a kill. That's a sure way to attract the unwanted attention of some hungry predators or opportunistic scavengers.

The idea that humans of the past were averse to bathing is a big misconception, rooted back in the middle ages. With the beginning of the spread of the black plague throughout Europe, bathing was considered, along with regularly changing clothes, a sign of vanity, inviting the wrath of God. It was also believed to open the pores, making it easier for "miasmas" (bad air or evil spirits) to enter the body, spreading disease.

According to actual archaeological and anthropological evidence, bathing (at least on occasion) was in fact a pretty common concern throughout most of known history and pre-history, in most cultures around the world.

So, it didn't surprise me that Jena wasn't at all reluctant to start splashing water on herself right away, wiping away the sticky, drying blood on her skin. In fact, it was one hell of a relief. I really didn't want the added hassle of trying to convince her of the benefits of bathing.

Now, soap on the other hand, that was something completely foreign to her.

"Jena, wet your hair for me."

She looked at me curiously, but showed no reluctance in following my lead. While I turned back to retrieve a bar of soap and wash cloth, she braced herself for a few seconds, then dropped completely into the river, only to quickly shoot out again, gasping and shivering, first from the cold water and then from exposure to the air.

No, regular bathing, though necessary, isn't all that pleasant given the current circumstances. Weeks of cold baths had already taught me that. But, once I arranged a way to get a large amount of warm to hot water, some time in the future, I'm sure that the experience would be much more pleasant and popular. In fact, I already had some long term plans for building a bathhouse sketched out, back at my camp.

I couldn't help but pause in wonder, simply taking in the sight of Jena. From the very first moment I saw her I had noticed that she was beautiful, but now I actually took in and appreciated the whole of her.

A nicely rounded face, with dimples in her cheeks, bright blue eyes filled with warmth, slightly wavy light brown hair hanging down past her shoulders...

As my eyes traveled lower, I reveled in the glory of her fantastic, dripping wet body. Her breasts were perfect half globes with no visible signs of sagging, capped by rock hard, light pink nipples the size of pencil erasers and slightly puffy, quarter-sized areolas. If she had ever heard of a bra before, I guessed that she would have worn a large D cup, maybe even double Ds. She had a slim waist, wide hips and an amazing ass - big, round and very firm. I think it just barely qualified as a "bubble butt". There didn't seem to be more than a few grams of fat on her entire body and she had a noticeable layer of firm muscles playing underneath her goosebump covered skin.

She was gorgeous and definitely sexy enough to have been a model back on Earth. Maybe not one of those rail thin, anorexic runway models, or even an airbrushed and surgically enhanced playboy centerfold. In my opinion, she looked more like a sexy Victoria's Secret lingerie model, or maybe a fit and curvy Rip Curl bikini babe.

It made me wish that I had thought to ask Center for a camera. Maybe I can eventually try my hand at sketching her?

She wasn't perfect though. I never really expected her to be.

Her smooth, tanned skin was marred by more than a handful of scars and blemishes, a testament to a hard life lived in the wild outdoors, braving the harsh elements, and with very limited medical knowledge.

She was also a bit harrier than most women I had been with, but that made sense seeing as she had never even considered the possibility of shaving her legs and under her arms, let alone trimming her bush. Besides being tricky and painful shaving with a piece of sharpened rock, what could possibly be the point, right? On the other hand, the hair she did have seemed very lightly colored, almost invisible in fact, quite fine and sparse.

It was alright, I'd once dated a European woman for a few months - I could deal with it.

Still, every single flaw just made her ... more real, if that makes any sense.

Shaking myself out of my thoughts, I got back down to the task at hand. After building up a good lather in my bare hands, I motioned for her to turn her back to me.

"Why?" she asked, clearly wondering what I had in mind for her with that strange foamy substance.

She didn't wait for an answer though, trusting me enough to follow my directions.

"This is soap." I replied, using the English word, seeing as they obviously didn't have their own. "You use it with water to help clean and wash. I think you'll like it."

While she was mulling that little tidbit of information, repeating the new word a few times to herself, I began washing her hair. I started at the points and gradually worked my way up. After some time and a surprising amount of hard work, I was eventually massaging her scalp gently but firmly. If her appreciative moans were any indication, it felt pretty damn good.

So good in fact, that she soon found herself unconsciously arching her back, pressing and rubbing her ass back against me.

Now, at this point I'd like to tell you all how, as Jena and I washed each other, waist deep in the clear, gently flowing river, we teased each other until we just couldn't take it any longer and we gave in, making passionate, romantic love, right there in the water.

I'd really like to, but I can't. We didn't have sex right then, we just washed each other.

Why, you might be asking in extreme exasperation and understandable disappointment?

Well, I had a couple of pretty damn good reasons!

First off, the river was damn cold! Even though I had been hard and horny for some time now (practically since I had first met her), and more than ready to get down to some good old-fashioned fucking, the low, low temperature of the water just took most of the iron right out of my rod. Apparently, not even my enhanced physical condition, or the very enticing show Jena was giving me, could help that much.

The spirit certainly was certainly willing, but unfortunately the flesh was weak.

Secondly, the river bottom of smooth rocks over soft sand was just stable enough to walk on, but not really conductive to more ... shall we say, strenuous activities. The last thing that we both would have wanted was to lose our footing and end up under water. That would have been a surefire way to kill the mood.

Still, all in all, bathing with Jena was a very nice and sensuous experience. Though we hardly spoke, I honestly believe that the simple act of caringly washing each other, sharing teasing touches and looks, happy smiles and genuine laughter, bonded us on a deeply emotional level. Despite the fact that we had known each other for little over a day, we would eventually exit the river as a true couple.

Yes, sappy, I know.

-Sigh- Let's just ... move on...

There was quite a bit of dirt, oil and even a bit of blood in her light brown hair that eventually took several rinses to completely get out. Plus, her hair was matted and tangled in places, taking some time to get straightened out without hurting her.

I'd have to introduce her to a comb pretty soon.

To my surprise, after the water used to rinse her hair finally ran clear, it was revealed to me that my darling mate Jena was actually a dirty blonde.

Go figure.

Cleaning the rest of her body was much easier, the multiple hair washings having paved most of the way already. Using a soft washcloth now, I carefully cleaned her face, making sure not to forget behind her ears. I then moved my hands lower, gently massaging her neck, over her relaxed shoulders and down her arms. I washed and rubbed her back, making my way gradually down towards her ass and legs, eliciting more moans as I progressed.

Let me tell you, she wasn't the only one enjoying the experience.

"This feels good, doesn't it?" I whispered into her ear.

"Oh Jon." Jena managed to gasp out. "I never felt like this before ... so good..."

"That's good. I'm very glad. But you haven't seen anything yet my sweet mate..."

I reached for her crotch from behind and gently began "washing" her pussy. She was hot as hell, especially compared to the surrounding cold water, and the abundant moisture I felt there wasn't all from the river. She gasped and tensed at the intimate contact at first, but eventually fell back against me, completely relaxed and trembling faintly. She didn't pull away or clench her legs shut. In fact, she actually spread them further apart, giving me better access.

Taking that as a sign that I was doing the right thing, I wrapped my other arm around her, holding her upright and "washed" faster. Her breathing grew more rapid, bordering on hyperventilating and her trembling became stronger and more erratic. As I started using my other hand to massage the top of her slit, she moved her hips in response, letting primal instinct take over, and clutching tightly onto me. She was rapidly losing herself in the obviously pleasurable sensations and trying desperately to increase them.

"Yeesss Jooonn!" She moaned out, then starting to mumble incoherently. "Keep going! Keep goooinng!"

She was panting and writhing in my arms so much that I almost lost my balance more than once. Luckily, I kept her standing upright long enough for her to eventually finish cumming, surprisingly loudly and violently, announcing her orgasm to everybody within a couple of miles.

I think that I actually heard some wolves howling in response, somewhere far off in the distance.

Yup, my Jena clearly was a screamer.

I gently rubbed her belly and nuzzled her neck, murmuring sweet nothings in her ear until she eventually recovered enough to stand up on her own two feet.

"I've never had a trembling like that before. So strong..." she just managed to say between panting breaths. "The married women warned me that I might not experience it with my mate, that I would have to take care of it myself, later on."

I guess that the men here didn't spend much effort on foreplay, forcing the women to "take care of themselves", for lack of a better term. I'm also willing to bet that sex amongst cavemen is not typically tender or imaginative. Much more like "wham, bam, thank you ma'am". The bar might be set a bit low, but that didn't prevent me from wanting to guarantee that my first time with Jena was something to truly remember. I'd make damn sure that she was glad that she was my mate.

She turned seamlessly in my arms and gazed up into my eyes. The love and near adoration I saw in them was a surprise, but far from an unpleasant one. Her beauty was seemingly multiplied by her post-orgasmic glow.

"But they were wrong. Very, very wrong. Oh Jon, I love you."

"I love you too Jena." I responded tenderly, bowing down to kiss her lips gently.

We held each other for some time, kissing and caressing until we eventually got back to work. With her back now definitely scrubbed clean, I once again took up the washcloth and soap and began to wash her front.

That is to say, I began to wash her breasts.

I perhaps spent a bit too much time gently kneading and rubbing the soft, satiny flesh of her round, firm breasts. There was no way that I could logically explain this away as "washing". Nope, I was just enjoying myself.

I'm a guy, so sue me!

Jena was simply watching what I was doing to her body with rapt attention and a happy, almost serene smile on her face. She seemed content with not saying anything, apart from the occasional sigh and soft moan of enjoyment. I eventually gave into the temptation of gently tweaking her obviously hard, pink nipples and alternated giving them a quick suck and kiss. That got a quick gasp and low whine of pleasure in response.

She was soon squeaky clean all over, no nook or cranny left unattended. Besides being fresh smelling and panting slightly, she was also obviously ready for round two, with an unmistakable lusty gleam in her eyes.

I'm quite sure that it matched my own.

"Now it's my turn." She stated, surprising me by taking the washcloth and soap out of my hands, an impish smile on her face.

Then, mimicking my earlier actions, she hesitantly built up a lather in her hands and proceeded to return the favor, washing my body. Although there was more of me to wash, my hair was shorter and I wasn't anywhere as dirty as she had been, so it didn't take that long. Still, she took her sweet time and was pretty thorough about it, obviously liking the look and feel of my muscular body. Almost as much as I was enjoying the feel of her soapy hands over me.

After a suitable amount of soaping, scrubbing and rinsing, liberally mixed with a fair share of caresses and gropes by both of us, Jena eventually found her hands drawn down toward my dick. Her fingers curled around me gently and very tentatively at first, treating it as if it were made of fragile glass, but soon enough she was fondling and stroking it firmly, lovingly and somewhat hungrily.

The sight and feel of her wet, naked body, as well as her manual ministrations were having their expected effect on me, despite the debilitating cold water. I wasn't completely hard, but I was well on my way.

"So big..." I just barely managed to hear her murmur softly to herself and I couldn't help but groan in response.

OK, that was one hell of a confidence boost.

In my first life, I was average size at best. It was certainly enough for my needs and I knew how to use it well, if I do say so myself. Now though, amongst numerous other physical enhancements, my Johnson had been supersized. No, I hadn't measured it, I'm not one of those guys, but I guessed that it easily topped eight, eight and a half inches, maybe even coming pretty close to nine.

I have to admit, I was seriously looking forward to finally trying it out.

We were both clean enough, the warm afternoon sun was coming close to setting, cooling the air around us, and I wasn't sure just how much more teasing I could possibly take.

"Let's gets out of the water Jena and find someplace more comfortable."

My voice broke the laser-like focus that she had on my cock. I guess she kinda forgot that I happened to come attached to it. She looked up at me a bit sheepishly, but eagerly nodded her agreement, biting her lip very cutely.

After carefully wading out of the river, we both toweled each other off until we were just slightly damp.

Perhaps more than anything else I had showed her, Jena was really impressed by the fluffy and soft towels we used. She excitedly wanted to know if she could make some new clothing out of them, but I managed to convince her that I already had some at home, ready for her. My clothes would clearly be too big for her, but they would be better than the furs she was used to wearing. I also had a couple of sewing kits with my supplies, so she could eventually make some new, better quality and well tailored leather clothing.

 
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