Simba listened enraptured to the soft voice of the leopardess. “You are special,” she purred alluringly. “Friends?”
“Friends.”
“You can’t have him,” a lioness voice said from the bushes. “He doesn’t belong in the trees like a leopard. He belongs in the open with me.” It was Sasha.
The lioness twitched her head for him to follow. He left the leopardess behind and followed her.
Soon he found himself back in the open savanna where his heart belonged. Sasha came to him and nuzzled him slowly and gently, pawing his face and then slinking softly down his full length. “Isn’t this better?”
“Much.”
“Jomo is not around. We have this to ourselves.”
A smile warmed the corners of her shapely mouth and her eyes half closed. She rolled on her back in the rich grass, taking in a deep breath and letting it slowly out. “Simba.”
He smiled, drifting alongside her warm body and lowering his bulk with such grace that the grass whispered in answer. He looked over into her soft hazel eyes and rolled on his back, snuggled against her graceful body. A feeling of peace and contentment swept over him like a calm wind, blowing his worries and doubts away and leaving only the essence of his wondering soul.
As they lay next to each other, she reached over with an adventurous paw and began to explore his soft mane and feel his heartbeat. Simba grunted his approval, his eyes half closed in satisfaction. “Oh yes, you know what I like.”
“I know what you like,” she said mischievously, and she began to widen her explorations.
His eyes opened wide. “Hey!”
She gazed at him longingly. “It’s what you want, isn’t it?”
“Well, I....”
She licked his face slowly and passionately. “You can’t hide it from me. It’s been on your mind since we met.”
“Well, I....”
“It’s all right, honey tree. Really it is. It’s what I want too.” She reached over with a paw again, starting at his chest and slowly, steadily setting him on fire. “Make love to me, Simba.”
“OK. But it’s going to be my first time.” He rolled over and got to his feet. “Do you still want me?”
She looked up at him and smiled. “Yes.” She rolled over smoothly into a crouch. “Don’t be afraid. You’re so timid, just like a little cub.” She licked out the end of her tongue in a kiss. “I think you’re kind of cute.”
Suddenly, Jomo came running toward them. “Get away! Get away from her!”
The two squared off, and Simba flailed at him, claws out. Jomo was bold, but to the point of overconfidence. He did not expect a firm defense, and Simba struck at him, catching him on the side of the face.
Stunned, Jomo fell back, and Simba rained blow after blow on him almost unopposed.
Soon Simba prevailed. He saw the vanquished foe at his feet, but rather than beg for mercy, the lion said, "Everything I had is yours. But before you make love to her, why don't you tell her I'm the second lion you killed. Your own father's blood is on your paws!"
Simba looked at him and realized it was his Uncle Scar.
"No!" Simba backed up. "I didn't kill him!” he stammered. “I swear I didn't! It was an accident!"
Taka glared at him as he lay mortally wounded, his life draining away with each beat of his heart. "It's all your fault! If you hadn’t messed up, he’d still be alive. Go away and never come back!"
"It's NOT my fault! It's NOT!"
Simba struggled awake, striking out at the bare air in his efforts to escape the nightmare. Breathing rapidly, his heart pounding, he sat in the still heat of the jungle, the humid air stifling him and making each breath an effort. At last his heat slowed, and he reclined back onto the leaves, his fur soaked in sweat. His eyes flicked up to the dark canopy of leaves overhead, and for the first time in months, he wept bitterly, the tears falling silent onto the forest loam.