Bonan and the Time Machine

A huge figure of a man lifted a bone club the size of a human leg up into the air. His arm stretched upwards, his biceps tightened and he waved the weapon at the blazing sun above him.
"GRAAAAAARRRRRHHHH!!" He roared at the barren landscape around him, as he stood over his kill. He brandished the bone, pointing it towards the lazily drifting clouds - clouds that always promised rain that never came.
The sabretooth tiger, a solitary predator, had figured that it had been in for an easy meal. It hadn't counted on losing the fierce struggle for survival in the very first second. Now it lay dead at the great man's feet, its furry coat already skinned and fastened around the man's neck, and one of its leg bones clutched in his muscled arm.

"RAAARRRRGHH! Go! GO!" The figure swung the tiger's leg bone at the various vultures that circled overhead. They dipped and dived, ignoring his threats, until one of them recieved an almighty CRACK on the skull, and fell to the rock floor. The others disappeared from the sky in a matter of minutes.

The man looked down and saw a jackal in a patch of dry grasses nearby eyeing his kill. He waved the weapon a little. "Go."
The jackal snarled but kept his distance.

Ten minutes later and the man sat outside the cave entrance that had housed his prey, a crackling fire eating up a bundle of hastily gathered sticks and the meat on a spit above it. The imposing human ripped off a gnarly piece of charred meat with his teeth and steadily chewed the rough gristle. The jackal had apparently slunk off, not keen on staking its life for a meal.
Although that was often the same thing in this landscape. The rains hadn't come, and things were .

The man thought back to several hours previous, and his escape from his captors. They couldn't have expected to keep him forever. He was a free man.
He brushed his long scraggy hair out from his thick jawline as he continued to gnaw at his kill. Night had quickly fallen, and the only noises were his methodical chewing and the incessant sound of buzzing flies eager to claim his prize. Nothing lasted long here; he knew he couldn't save the tiger for a later time.

The stony-eyed man decided to take the opportunity of the relatively safe location to check his equipment.
He had no pack to speak of, only what he was wearing. He refastened his few simple tools and trinkets and tightened the long scabbard to the back of his otherwise bare chested torso. He took out the huge, rusted sword, a weapon that few men could wield, and none with anything remotely resembling skill or agility, and used a rag from his belt to wipe away the sabretooth's dark blood. He grunted in satisfaction as the blade was cleaned.

What was left? Oh yes.

The man reached under his loin cloth and pulled at the leather straps that held a long pouch of cloth, resembling another scabbard, to his leg. He was just about to loosen the last of the ties that kept the fourteen inch weapon contained within pinned to his sturdy right leg, when a sound of scree falling nearby sent him jumping to his feet.

"Who? Show me!" He growled out, hefting the two handed sword into his clenched hands.
From out of the shadows of the flickering firelight came a woman clad in scraps of mottled fur. Her hair was wild and untamed, yet glowed in the light like a burnished sun. Her face was very attractive and rounded, yet streaked with dirt and dust just like the man's.

The barbarian dropped his sword when the figure came up closer, and gawped.
Pointing right at him, her chest as naked as his, were her mountainous breasts. They hung high and firm on her person; fatter, rounder and juicier than any he had seen during his time in slavery.
The man used one hand to close his jaw and wipe away a bit of drool from staring at the newcomer's mouthwatering jugs with her huge, thick nipples erect in the cold night.

"Who?" He asked again, his voice softer now, before adding, "I like."
The woman smiled at him, and raised her hands to show she wasn't carrying any weapons, besides the obvious two that made her bust.
"I Milka." She said, touching one of her breasts and giving it a squeeze in introduction. Her eyes looked downwards and saw the weapon still bound to the barbarian's thigh. She looked back at him quizzically. "I saw fire... Who you?"

The man puffed out his already mighty chest.
"I Bonan."