CIRCLES OF STONE (THE MOTHER PEOPLE SERIES) by JOAN DAHR LAMBERT

no impulse to flee, though she did not know why. 
Instead, she stood her ground as the young male came close and sniffed
her.  He tried to mount her, and she snapped at him angrily.  He
retreated, startled.  She ambled back toward the pond, ignoring him. He
followed eagerly, though he cringed whenever she turned to look at him. 
He paid no attention to Screech, and after a few moments, Screech wandered back
toward the fruit trees. 
    Zena led the male
to the pond and sat down on its grassy banks. Perching beside her, he stared
into her face.  When she did not return his gaze, he pulled up some juicy
plants and handed them to her.  She accepted them, but she still refused
to look into his eyes.  He sat patiently, watching every movement she
made. When she rose, he followed; when she ate or drank, he did the same. All
that day, he watched her and followed her, but in the late afternoon he climbed
up the ridge again and disappeared.  Zena felt an unexpected pang of regret
and her sleep that night was disturbed by the feeling of emptiness that had
plagued her so often in recent months. It twisted inside her, almost as if she
had not eaten, but she was not hungry.
    The next morning,
the male was back.  This time Zena's treatment of him was less reserved,
and after he had come four days in a row, she greeted him with
enthusiasm.  She enjoyed the attention he gave her, and his presence
seemed to assuage at least some of the strange emptiness she felt.  Each
time he came, he brought a choice piece of food for her to eat, extending it to
her with a series of guttural grunts.  The grunts sounded like "dak,
dak," and soon Zena began to think of him as Dak.
    Screech was less
enthusiastic about the young male's visits.  Whenever Dak appeared, he ran
to the fruit trees, or wandered off to sit by himself on the hillside, his face
forlorn.  He wanted Zena to pay attention to him, not to the strange male.
Zena sensed his distress, but for the first time since they had been together,
she ignored it.  She needed to be with Dak, and Screech would have to
wait.
    On the fifth day,
when she heard Dak call from the ridge, she ran to him and stroked his
arm.  Then she led him slowly to the pond.  They sat there together,
almost touching.  When Dak handed her some bulbs to eat, Zena looked
deeply into his eyes. The expression she saw there brought a strange hotness
into her belly.  But now it was Dak's turn to look away, as if he were
embarrassed. Zena persisted, and after a time, he returned her stare. 
Mewing softly, she came close, so that her body pressed against his.  Then
she turned and presented her genitals. The hotness built inside her as he
sniffed between her legs and mounted her.  Moaning with pleasure, she felt
him go inside her and thrust vigorously.  The hotness grew and grew until
it reached a crescendo of excitement. Her body shuddered violently, and she
groaned, a low, intense groan of utter satisfaction.
    In the weeks that
followed, she and Dak mated many times.  The act of mating was deeply
gratifying to Zena, and she wanted to do it over and over again.  Dak was
her willing accomplice.  Each morning, he approached her eagerly, often
carrying a choice bit of fruit for her to eat.  They mated and then sat
close together for long hours.
    Finally accustomed
to Dak's presence, Screech often came to join them, clamoring for his share of
attention. When he had first seen them mating, he had hooted angrily at Dak,
and tried to pull him away.  But Zena had snapped at him, and Dak had
refused to move.  Defeated, Screech had sat by the pond and watched them,
a baffled look on his face.
    After that, he had
ceased to object, and even greeted Dak with affection when he appeared on the
hillside each morning.  Dak, in turn, was tolerant of the younger male. 
He played with him, throwing stones into the pond to hear their loud plunk, or
running after him in wide, exuberant circles.  Sometimes, too, he just