The ritual begins

The ritual began almost lazily. Hung Like a Bear started speaking, but Morning Wood did not translate it. Smiling Beaver put a palm on Mary’s thigh, but the touch was friendly rather than erotic. When the short speech finished everyone shared a smoke and drink inside of their small circles. The sheriff remained passive, she drank or smoked when offered each good, but other than that she simply enjoyed the ritual. She also enjoyed the touch of Smiling Beaver’s palm, which was gradually becoming more active. The girl gently caressed Mary’s thick thigh, the circles she drew were becoming wider and eventually her fingers were coming closer to the moist spot between the sheriff’s legs.

The pipe was again smooth and tasted really good, although Mary had a feeling that the herbal composition was different this time. The drink was surprisingly sweet and tasty. The brothel owner within Mary thought briefly that it would be a good basis for an alcoholic drink. She knew that the Indians did not use **** though. The little pot soon became empty, but Morning Wood quickly refilled it.

The sheriff was not surprised when another larger palm was placed on her right thigh; it belonged to Hung Like a Bear. She welcomed them both. Apart from the weird experiences during the first ritual not that much had happened to genuinely arouse Mary; but aroused she was. She suspected that both the pipe and the drink might have included aphrodisiacs of some sort, but at that point she simply did not care what the source of arousal was. Mary was horny and she liked it.

Smiling Beaver had a head start, so her fingers were the first to reach between the sheriff’s legs. A single digit barely touched her clit, but it was enough to make her moan slightly.

“Mhm,” the sound only encouraged her neighbours, not only the girl, but also her father and Morning Wood, who sat behind Mary and grabbed her breasts with both hands. He squeezed them lightly while Hung Like a Bear did the same to her thigh. The pipe and pot were gone, but the smoke from the fire thickened significantly; it did not impact the breathing though.

“Mhmm,” Mary moaned louder while the four hands continued to touch her body. They were also becoming more possessive, although whenever Smiling Beaver touched the sheriff’s clit she was still gentle.

Caressing soon turned into groping.

“Mhmm!” Mary moaned louder when Morning Wood squeezed her nipples softly. The Chieftain grabbed her thigh much harder. Most importantly Smiling Beaver pushed a single finger into her now wet pussy. The sheriff closed her eyes and arched her back.

The smoke around them was becoming denser, as the three Indians continued to caress and fondle the sheriff’s body. Her breath quickened significantly, but not because of the smoke.

“Mhmm!” Mary moaned once again, her eyes still closed.

Then suddenly she felt as if the people in her vicinity had disappeared. The four hands were still touching her body, but Smiling Beaver and the two men were no longer sitting by her sides. For a moment she was confused and afraid, but calmed down quickly. This was the friendship ritual after all, whoever was touching her meant Mary no harm. Quite the opposite, the hands wanted to please her; she was quickly getting hornier, so she welcomed their presence.