You dipped your thumb into the mortar of dark, thick fluid, cupping Eagle Flies’ face with your other hand. His eyes were locked onto you, unwavering in his gaze.

You carefully drew the lines down his chin, trying to ignore his stares. His hands were settled on your thighs, thumbs drawing small circles into your hips. Various organic materials were to the side, along with a small jug of water and a cloth, so you could make his paint.

This wasn’t the first time you’d done this for Eagle Flies, but it certainly felt like the most intimate.