Page 43 of Caveman Alien's Bride

She slaps my forearm. “I think was trok! Why you scare!”

Bending over with mirth, I keep hold of her hand. “Is fun to scare! You think was trok, but not trok in jungle. Only on beach where Bryar enjoy bathing in blood of Big.”

She calms down. “You no mock Bryar!” she pouts. “Bryar speak your way better than you speak Bryar way.”

I embrace her. “We often made jokes like that when I was a boy. But being attacked by a trok is not very funny, I agree. And your speech is so good now that I must use my last chance to make fun of it before you start correctingmyspeech.” I kiss her and look around, making sure there are neither Bigs nor Smalls nor Tinies around. “Now let’s get clean.”

She peers into the water. “Is deep.”

“It’s deep enough to swim in,” I tell her and tug at her skirt. “But don’t get your clothes wet.”

I take off my sword belt and pull the blade a third out of the scabbard, so that it’s easily available. This may be close to the village, but itisthe jungle.

My loincloth is easily discarded, and then I jump into the pond, making as big a splash as I can.

Bryar has taken off her own belt and removes her skirt while I watch. My crotch swells hard, despite the cold water.

“Keep that on,” I tell her when she reaches for her necklace. “Always.”

She shrugs and takes off the last garment. Her delectable body fully revealed, she comes to the edge of the water and hesitates. “Is no ladder here.”

“Jump,” I encourage. “I’ll catch you.”

Clamping her little nose between two fingers, she closes her eyes and jumps in.

I grab hold of her and make sure she comes to the surface right away. “Nice, yes?”

“Cold,” she says, little teeth clattering. “But nice.” She pushes wet hairs out of her face. “There issoap?”

“Sope?Of course there’ssope.”

“There is?”

“What issopeagain? I’m sure we have it.”

“Soap is thing for getting clean. Smell good.”

I dive down and get a handful of sand from the bottom, then show her how she can scrub herself with it. “This issope.”

She grabs my hand and brings it to her nose. “Smells not good. Also not bad. Smells…not.”

“You already smell good,” I point out. “No need for more good smell.”

Finally she smiles. “You verycharmer.”

“They all say that,” I agree. “That Korr'ax is verysharmr.”

“Who says that?” she asks, scrubbing her arms while I hold her up.

“Oh, all the troks say it.”

“Maybe they not should say that aboutmyhusband.”

“Maybe they shouldn’t,” I agree. “I will tell them next time. My wife, where do you come from?”

“From Earth,” she says and scrubs her chest. “A planet. Like Xren, but not.”

“Ah. Like Xren but not. That says it all. Are there many big tribes?”

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