“Jaguar’s gone.” The female swung her attention back to Tarzan 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 cloth 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 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. Female gorillas in his family band didn’t like their hair stroked in the opposite direction. Perhaps it was the same for this hairless female.
For the sake of his heavy mating tool, Tarzan tried again, reaching to stroke a soothing path over her covered breast.
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