“Jaguar’s gone.” She swung her attention back to him, and stared at his lengthened male part. “And I have a feeling my clothes will be, too.”
Whatever she’d said to his tool, it must have involved her mouth, because she licked her lips.
“Uh-uh.” He pulled on the flowered blue that covered her breasts, then pointed at the tougher shield over her legs. All females bore an opening in which the mating part slid in and out.
At the thought, his tool jumped. Tarzan wrapped his hand around the hardened length to subdue it.
“Here? In the tree?” With her brow wrinkled, the female appeared to become agitated again. “Seriously?”
He gazed down at her, wondering what caused such a reaction when moments before she was all sweet sounds and closed eyes—a sign of her readiness to mate. Hmm. It first happened when he’d touched the covering between her legs. Females in his family didn’t like their hair stroked in the opposite direction. Perhaps it was the same for this human female.
For the sake of his heavy mating tool, he tried again, reaching to stroke a soothing path over her covered breast.
Her eye-skin drooped.
He did the same to her other breast.
“Ooh-ooh.” A smile pulled the edges of his mouth. He was getting the hang of this mating thing. But the breast cover wasn’t his female’s skin, and he wanted to know the softness for himself. He skimmed a finger over her dewy cheek, then tugged at her shoulder where the cover lay bunched up. How could he unwrap this succulent fruit?
Unsure how to proceed, Tarzan straightened and leaned against the tree again, crossing his arms to think out the matter.
“Alright, I get it. You won’t get me out of the tree until I take my clothes off. By the way, when’s the last time you had a haircut?”
After the female stopped her chatter and flashed a quick, lopsided smile, her hands grasped the bottom of the breast covering and slowly peeled the damp cloth over her head.