The Chief was an old man. His predation on other women, including Ivory, disgusted her. She was the Chief’s wife not his sex toy. Nonetheless, Ivory...nursed her faith in the beneficence of the spirits. Every day she gazed up the hillside in the hope that Glade would return. She visualised her struggling down the slope by herself to announce that the great survivor had once again come through against all odds and all expectations. She had crossed deserts, seas and forests. Surely she could also. “Nice to meet you, Kelly,” Frank greeted with a simple nod.The girl's lips simply curved into a small smile as she pulled her right hand away from her chest, slender right fingers performing a nervous single waving motion.“Hello,” a feathery voice responded. Frank's gaze diverted briefly to her hips, observing the crimson pleated skirt which gently swayed up against her developed tanned thighs. His vision declined downwards along the curvy flesh, across her symmetrically rounded knees to. More

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