“Are we ready?” Nancy asked in excitement. Her guests were looking around at the wonderful morning developing around them. It was cool by the river. A mist crept through the woods on the hill, glittering in the morning sunlight. A ring appeared on the surface of the water where a fish pulled a fly down for it’s breakfast. Nancy pulled her dress up to her knees and waded into the water. She created waves which expanded in the calm water near the shore, until merging with the moderate current at the center of the river. Nancy noticed for the first time, as she looked up in excitement, that her family had grown dramatically. She smiled at each member of her new family, as she pulled her fish trap up and looked at two long flapping perch trapped inside.
“My god,” Nancy cried, running for the bank with her treasure.
“Oh, good catch,” Willow Bud clapped. “It’s so easy to feed yourself here. I don’t know why my people chose the dessert.”
“Every people do best in their own area,” Tall Elk said, examining the perch.
The perch were as long as a grown man’s forearm and even thicker. Silver Quail wadded out to get her trap and found a catfish and one silver trout stuffed against the bars of the trap. The catfish weighed at least 20 pounds. It was a great black and silver monster, glaring at her through the willow bars.
“The crayfish,” Nancy clapped in excitement. She ran back into the river, dropping her dress into the water in her excitement, as she waded out and pulled the stick. She caught up the crayfish trap as it floated to the surface. It was literally crawling with 50 to 100 crayfish. They made a dark, moving mass inside the trap. “Oh god, you take it,” she squealed, thrusting the trap at Rusty. She shivered and shook her hands in disgust. He took the trap with a chuckle. He pulled the willow cap off the short end and upended the mass of crawling crayfish into a basket.
Tall Elk and Silver Quail were pulling the struggling fish from the traps. The trout was simple, it was smaller. The monstrous catfish must have squeezed in after the trout. Silver Quail reset the fish traps in the reeds.
“We have nothing to put in this trap,” Nancy took the empty crayfish trap in disappointment.
“We will in a second,” White Fawn said, pulling her knife and scaling the fish. It took only a few minutes to dress the fish out and drop the filleted meat into a basket. The heads and guts went into the crayfish trap and Willow Bud staked it out in the water farther upstream.
“My god,” Nancy said in excitement. “Have you ever seen so much free food in your life?”
“We didn’t even have to pack it in,” Tall Elk agreed. “You realize, Nancy, that every day won’t be as profitable as this one. It’s easy the first time. There will be less fish from now on. Rusty and I will go out hunting later. A little venison will taste good right now.”
Silver Quail’s eyes went to her husband. Something about the tone of his voice alerted her. She studied his face for a second, then picked up a basket.
“Maybe I should go along,” she said in a quiet voice, “men are terrible at dressing out meat.”
“No, two will be enough,” he gave her a stony gaze which spoke volumes.
“I’m so glad Rusty brought in that milk cow. I love fresh milk and butter,” Nancy said. “I haven’t had milk since I was a little girl.”
“You know, Willow Bud and I found gooseberries yesterday. That means the first of the blackberries will be ripe too,” White Fawn said. “With butter we can make pie crust. We should look up in the hills for berries, in the sunny areas,” she looked toward the great stony hills at the south end of the valley.
“Look to the north,” Tall Elk said.
“Did you see some?” White Fawn asked.
“No, but it would be best to stay away from the southern portion of the valley for a few days,” his eyes went to his wife and he gave her another significant look.
“Exactly what I was going to suggest,” Silver Quail grabbed her daughter’s shoulder. “Look back here behind the farm,” she pointed to the north. “There’s such a beautiful mix of bushes and trees.”
“Oh, look,” Willow Bud gasped in excitement, pointing at the grass, “a small milk snake.”
“Are they good to eat?” White Fawn moved closer as Willow Bud picked it up and gently coiled it around her forearm.
“No, el pequeño,” Willow Bud whispered, “but I promise to show you what it is good for,” she giggled.
Tall Elk and Silver Quail exchanged amused glances. They had seen women in their tribe with pet snakes. Both the snake and the women were reported to be very happy with the arrangement.
Silver Quail combined Indian potatoes, wild asparagus, wild onions, mushrooms, rice, beans, and the pealed crayfish into a wonderful boiled stew. White Fawn gutted and filleted the perch, then salted them and hung them up to dry. The catfish and trout were baked for an incredible feast. Biscuits and sugar cookies were added, made from the recent supplies purchased in Ft. Kearney. It had been a unanimous decision to continue drinking chicory, rather than wasting precious money on expensive coffee. There was a difference, of course, but they liked the difference. Besides, there were several hundred free chicory plants displaying their purple blossoms on the hill behind the ranch.
At noon they moved the kitchen table out to the front porch and began loading it down with food. They ate until they nearly burst, then sat around telling stories. It was a happy day, a day of celebrations. Since the men had returned, there was more than enough food with what they had brought back with the first packhorses. By common standards they were rich. There was some discussion about making another run for more cattle, but Tall Elk and Rusty exchanged guilty looks. Silver Quail saw that look and knew immediately that their lives were about to change. The carefree life they had led would be exchanged for war paint.
“You may need a bow and arrows,” she said in a low voice.
“Can you make the arrows?” he asked. She nodded. “Nancy, we are having chicken tomorrow,” she said, taking up the axe.
“Whaaa? Chicken? Why?”
“I need the feathers.”
The rider appeared at the south end of the valley. He stopped and studied the ranch, before kicking his horse into a walk. He approached the happy people and stopped, ten feet from the front porch. His eyes went over the women in a familiar manner which had Rusty gritting his teeth. His eyes finally fell on Rusty and studied him closely, before moving on to Tall Elk.
“I’m the deputy United States Marshall out of Lincoln. I’m here to arrest you two,” he said, his snakelike eyes switching from one to the other.
“Then you’ve wasted your time,” Rusty said, sitting is metal cup and plate on the porch.
“I don’t think so. Didn’t you two murder Raul Perez?”
“No, we killed Raul Perez, if that’s his name, when he tried to kill us,” Rusty said, squinting at the deputy.
“I found his body. He was unarmed.”
“His knife was stuck in the wall where my friend was sleeping,” Rusty nodded toward Tall Elk. “You obviously spoke to the woman, or you wouldn’t have known where to find us. Since you did, you also know we are innocent. Since you came here anyway, it means you have been bought. Go back to your REAL boss and tell him it didn’t work.”
“Why doesn’t he speak for himself?” the deputy nodded toward Tall Elk, who simply sat glaring.
“He only speaks Spanish.”
The deputy started to reach for his pistol, but Rusty’s came out in a blur. The deputy paused, then snarled and pulled his pistol. Rusty’s shot cartwheeled him from the saddle. He was dead when he hit the ground. The horse started to turn and run, but Tall Elk leaped and caught up his reins, holding them until he settled down.
“Now what?” Nancy asked, looking from one man to the other.
“Dig a large hole, shoot the horse and drop them in,” Tall Elk said.
“What?” Rusty gasped. “Why the horse?”
“Because they can trace the horse back to us,” Nancy said in sudden understanding, stepping off the porch and petting the frightened chestnut. “Dishonest or not, it’s a crime to kill a deputy. Even if they believed you it would take a month of explanations and trials. Tall Elk’s right, dig a large hole back in the woods with the one-man scoop, shoot the horse and drop everything belonging to this man in the hole.”
“I’ve never shot a horse in my life,” Rusty shook his head. They chose a clearing in a grove of spruce trees at the north end of the valley. A one-man scoop is brutal to the man operating the scoop. At the first sign of clay, roots, or rocks, it pitches the operator over the handles and far, far away. Rusty was the only qualified operator. Tall Elk controlled the horse, while Rusty manned the handles on the dumpable scoop. He dug the scoop deep by lifting the handles and pushing the front edge into the dirt, and once the scoop was full he leveled it off and the horse pulled the scoop off to one side, where Rusty lifted the handles and dumped the scoop. At first glance the yellow sand was ideal for digging, but digging in the clearing revealed hundreds of large roots radiating out from the spruce in the grove. Tall Elk laughed the first time Rusty was thrown over the handles. But as Rusty’s face hit the dirt and grass, he jumped up with a look of rage in his eyes and his hand on the butt of his pistol. Tall Elk kept his laughter to himself. He even took his turn on the handles, and in the dirt. By afternoon they had a 20 foot deep hole big enough to act as the basement of a house. Tall Elk led the chestnut, with the deputy draped over the saddle, to the bottom of the hole and shot it. The echoes sounded abnormally loud in the quiet grove. They rolled boulders into the grave from the stone boat, then used the scoop to refill the hole. The stone boat smoothed over the sand when they were through. They threw the scoop on the stone boat and started for the ranch.
“Hold up,” Tall Elk stopped Rusty before they left the secluded clearing. “My hackles are rising again. Somebody is nearby.”
“By god, Tall Elk, we’ve got to take this war to them. We can’t keep dodging them like this. Let’s wound the guy and see where he goes. I guarantee it will be the 3L.”
Tall Elk nodded and faded away into the grove of spruce. Rusty checked his pistol and waited. It was better to leave the Indianing to an Indian.
The shot echoed off the hills. Rusty drew his gun and swung from side to side, looking for a target. In a moment he saw a horse running below him on the sandy road. He watched, motionless before sliding his pistol back into the holster. The man had a bloody leg. He would make it to 3L all right and since he needed help immediately, he would not hide out in the woods for a few days before returning to his headquarters. Rusty mounted the plow horse and kicked it into a slow gallop. He came racing into the ranch yard with dust billowing up behind him from the stone boat. Tall Elk appeared from around the corner. They saddled their horses, grabbed their muskets and power horns, and rode off without a word. It was seven miles to the end of the valley. They rode the first five miles uneventfully.
“Hold up,” Tall Elk said, pulling his horse to a halt. He glanced at the yellow sand then looked around the brush and trees for a potential enemy.
“He stopped here and tied something around his wound. He’s close,” Tall Elk studied the landscape again. A telltale plume of dust at the far end of the valley showed them where the would-be ambusher had gone. Tall Elk took the time to slide his musket into the straps which held it to the saddle. Rusty slid his own musket into the boot and checked his pistol. Tall Elk reloaded his empty chambers while they silently watched the dust disappear over the hill.
“It’s a good weapon,” Tall Elk said, sliding his pistol into the holster.
“I hear Colt made a revolving rifle too, but I also heard that one misfired and all six chambers went off at once, blowing a man’s hand off. I’d prefer his pistol,” Rusty smiled.
“Now,” Tall Elk kicked his horse into motion.
“So what is the snake for?” White Fawn asked as Willow Bud placed it into a covered basket.
“When the time is right, I will show you,” Willow Bud said in excitement.
“Why not now? Daddy won’t be back for hours, and Nancy is showing mom how to milk the cow.”
“Ok,” Willow Bud smiled. She began taking off her clothes. White Fawn hurried to take her own off. They immediately compared bodies as they sat naked on her parent’s bed. Willow Bud was slender with the traditional large nipples and dark areolas. Her pubic hair was black and shinny, consisting of a small neat patch above her pussy in the shape of a hand. Her dark face was small and delicate, as most young Indian women were at her age. Indian women aged quickly as they grew older. At the moment Willow Bud was at her prime.
White Fawn was named due to her light complexion. Her Indian heritage was obvious in the lines of her face, but her white heritage had formed tiny doll-like features which would last for decades. Her feet were so tiny that each would fit inside of a normal hand. As she sat throwing her hair behind her shoulder, her proud chest showed the light, delicate features of her Norwegian heritage. She had small, almost invisible nipples on grapefruit like breasts. Both girls were absolutely perfect, in their own ways. Both appreciated the assets of the other.
“Let’s get each other wet first,” Willow Bus smiled, advancing on White Fawn and pushing her back on the bed. “We are supposed to use milk, which is why I wanted to wait, but we can go without it.”
“There’s cream,” White Fawn perked up.
“Get it, we can do both. They like heat and milk.” When White Fawn returned with the cream pitcher, Willow Bud set it aside had her lay on the bed. She fell between her legs with a giggle and a smile. She kissed White Fawn’s inner thigh gently, then kissed her way up the inside of both thighs until she reached her delicate pussy.
“It’s really very beautiful,” Willow Bud said, petting White Fawn’s pussy and pubic hair.
“So is yours,” White Fawn smiled. She watched as Willow Bud lowered her face again and kissed, just inside the leg, next to her pussy. White Fawn tensed up, an urgent look appeared in her eyes. She waited breathlessly as Willow Bud moved to the other side and kissed that crease between the body and leg. White Fawn hissed with pent-up passion. Part of her wanted to hurry Willow Bud by thrusting her pussy into her willing mouth. The other half waited, knowing the first tendrils of pleasure would be stronger. With a smile, Willow Bud opened her mouth and clamped it over White Fawn’s sweet pussy. As she sucked viscously, her tongue snaked inside of White Fawn’s delicate pussy lips and flickered inside. White Fawn made a chocking sound and withered on the bed. With her legs open wide, she pulled Willow Bud between her legs and thrust her pussy into her hot mouth.
Willow Bud held White Fawn’s legs wide open with her hands on her inner thighs. Her tongue flickered and searched the sweet warm flesh between White Fawn’s shuddering legs. Juices began pouring out of her tiny pussy, filling Willow Bud’s eager mouth and being swallowed frequently by her shapely throat. Suddenly, Willow Bud pulled away from White Fawn’s pussy and sat up.
“Lay on your back and raise your pussy,” Willow Bud commanded.
“But . . . I thought . . . ”
“Hurry and do what I told you. Time is growing short.” She helped White Fawn get into place, then took the cream picture and began pouring part of it’s contents into White Fawn’s pussy. White Fawn gasped, with eyes wide. She started to push Willow Bud’s hand away, but Willow Bud was done.
“You can put your pussy down, but don’t let any cream escape,” Willow Bud demanded. White Fawn nodded, tightening the muscles of her ass and pussy. It wasn’t easy to hold the cream inside herself.
Willow Bud quickly leaned back and poured the rest of the cream inside her womanhood. She dropped the pitcher on the floor and took up the basket with the snake inside. White Fawn’s eyes widened as Willow Bud drew the snake from the basket with a smile. Willow Bud held the snake in front of her own pussy, and the snake instantly disappeared inside her pussy, with a twisting blur of it’s body.
“Oh yes,” Willow Bud grunted. A very distorted, twisted look crossed her face. She shuddered and motioned for White Fawn to move closer. When she was close enough she lifted one leg and threw it across White Fawn’s, then slid her pussy tightly against White Fawn’s delicate pussy lips. As their lips touched White Fawn’s eyes lit in understanding. She began shuddering, waiting for that first contact. Willow Bud’s twisted face neared her own and they kissed passionately, almost brutally. White Fawn felt a movement against her pussy. She froze in fear, her eyes widening as she looked into Willow Bud’s blurred eyes. Suddenly the snake found her entrance and slid inside her. She gasped and clutched Willow Bud as the snake quickly filled her pussy and womb. It twisted and turned so quickly that she only felt the snake after it had moved to a different location. It seemed to be twisting and turning as it grew larger inside her. Was it dying? Would the snake die inside her and remain there forever?
“Oh, achee,” she whispered as the fire spread from her loins to the rest of her body. “Estoy muriendo,” White Fawn whimpered in horror.
“You are not dying,” Willow Bud giggled. “Relax and enjoy it, it will be very strong,” she said, hugging the naked girl before her. Her lips touched White Fawn’s gently as her pussy firmly rocked against White Fawn’s. The added stimulus horrified White Fawn. She clutched Willow Bud convulsively. Suddenly, horribly, she was empty. The snake had returned to Willow Bud. Willow Bud rocked faster, her pussy melting against White Fawn’s. White Fawn clutched the warm naked girl and kissed her passionately. She desperately wanted the snake to return to her pussy and finish her. She rocked faster, with her pussy sliding over Willow Bud’s moist flesh. Her pussy felt so hot against White Fawn’s. The juices and milk were dripping from their youthful pussies, and saturating the bed. The snake reveled in the delicious moisture it found inside these sweet young girls. It twisted and turned as it churned and drank both milk and juices, filling it’s abdomen and growing larger, as it feasted.
“Oh my god,” Willow Bud gurgled, her face turning purple. She rocked faster, brutally smashing her sex against White Fawn’s. She twisted and turned like the snake, then fell back on the bed with her hands clutching the blankets. She pressed her mound toward White Fawn, while here wide eyes looked at the white skinned girl in horror.
“It’s going to be big,” Willow Bud grunted, twisting faster. “Very big,” her face twisted in a mask of horror. “Aaaaeeeee, “she squealed, stiffening with her pussy against White Fawn’s. White Fawn used this convenient pussy to rub herself toward a massive orgasm. Suddenly the snake was outside, coiling on the bed. White Fawn grabbed it and tried to slide it into her pussy, but the snake refused.
Willow Bud was laying on her side, crying gently into the blankets. White Fawn’s eyes went to the smooth portion of Willow Bud’s hip in front of her. She threw one leg over Willow Bud and lowered her wet pussy until it opened against Willow Bud’s soft hip. Without delay, she began sliding forward and back on the beautiful, exhausted girl’s unresisting body. It took only a moment for her abused, super heated pussy to explode. Willow Bud pushed her over on the bed and sealed her mouth over White Fawn’s pussy, licking gently as she jerked and convulsed. Slowly she eased her movements, allowing White Fawn to return to the real world again. White Fawn lay whimpering, gasping for breath, as Willow Bud lay with her mouth sealed over White Fawn’s delicate pussy. It was a brutal shock when Willow Bud released White Fawn’s pussy and sat up, smiling. She leaned off the bed and searched for her snake. They found it laying beneath the bed, probably as exhausted as the girls. It was willing to return to the covered basket for some much needed rest.
“Wasn’t that fun?” Willow Bud asked joyously. White Fawn sat shaking her head.
Tall Elk and Rusty rode out of the north end of the valley and found the 3L Ranch on the open grasslands below. No more than 300 cattle surrounded the house. The ranch was composed of one unpainted house, two outbuildings, probably a granary and a bunkhouse, a barn, a single toilet, and a corral. It was a sorry outfit in any part of the country.
“There he goes,” Rusty pointed as the horse passed the corral and slid to a halt before the house. Several men came out and lowered the man, then carried him inside the house. A lone man took the horse and returned it to the corral. He stopped and searched the hills, before going back into the house.
“Now we know for sure,” Tall Elk said, taking a seat in the grass. They were far from the house and screened from view by a stand of bushes and trees. Tall Elk noted absently, that White Fawn’s blackberries grew abundantly on the side of the sunny, grass-covered hill. He stood and picked a handful, before throwing them into his mouth.
“What now?” Rusty asked.
Tall Elk looked around and found something interesting. If this end of the valley were blocked off, the valley would fill with water within a year, creating a great lake. The new lake would border 3L’s land, while wiping out most of Nancy’s. Very convenient.
“You know,” Rusty said, taking up a blade of grass and chewing it thoughtfully, “that the black stuff this man detests is what they make kerosene from. If he holds onto it he may become rich.”
“He has the same problem as Nancy,” Tall Elk said, clearing an area for a fire. He wanted coffee. “His cattle are dying off and he can’t hold the land without cattle. He’s too damned lazy to drill wells, so he wants the river. Until now it was easy to steal Nancy’s cattle and maintain his own dying herd,” Talk Elk said with a smile crinkling his eyes.
“Hey,” Rusty objected. “Nancy was afraid to let me track them. She thought they might kill me.”
“She’s probably right,” Tall Elk nodded toward the ranch. The ranch house was belching angry men.
“Now what?” Rusty was perturbed.
“Now I hold them where they are, while you ride around the ranch so they can’t sneak away. We will starve them into submission,” Tall Elk said, climbing to his feet and dusting off his pants. He pulled the rifled musket from the saddle and lifted the barrel. The rifle leaped in his hands and a chunk of fence post exploded beneath one man’s hand. He howled and shook his hand, while the others dove into the shit, mud, and dirt for shelter. By the way the man held his hand, Tall Elk knew it was full of splinters.
“Looks like fun,” Rusty said with a smile. He leaped to his saddle and pulled the nose of his horse around.
“Don’t kill unless you have too. We don’t want to bring Nancy too much grief. Besides, once you blow a man apart, it’s hard to put him back together again if you change your mind. Watch them closest after dark,” Tall Elk gave an additional warning as he reloaded the musket. “First they will investigate to see if you’re there, then they will swarm up the hill and kill you,” he said, shoving the ramrod back into it’s holder. “But they won’t do it until dark, so you can relax until then. They won’t want to draw attention to the south side of the ranch until they are ready to escape.”
“I will be careful,” Rusty smiled, kicking his horse into action. As Rusty disappeared back into the valley, Tall Elk was distracted by the sound of sheep. He started the coffee and watched as the sheep, a white dog, and one old Mexican appeared on the side of the hill. It wasn’t long before the sheep were on the outskirts of Tall Elk’s camp.
“Come and sit,” Tall Elk waved.
“I heard shooting,” the old man looked at the ranch suspiciously.
“Me too,” Tall Elk smiled. “Are you from the ranch?” Tall Elk nodded toward 3L.
“I need no ranch. I have a tent, a little food, and some cooking pots. When I move I pack everything onto my sheep and walk away. That is life. But I don’t have to tell you that. You are obviously an Indian.”
“Sioux,” Tall Elk nodded, while shaving chicory into the boiling water. “Now I work for a white lady on the Lazy N. Don’t you get lonely, old man?”
“During my first 20 years, when I was young, I got melancholy at times. I would seek out companionship and it always wound up getting me into trouble, sometimes for being a sheep herder, sometimes for being Mexican. Now I am content, I have my friends,” the old man waved his hand at the sheep.
“Do your friends keep you warm at night?” Tall Elk smiled.
“They do,” he nodded with a smile in his eyes. “If you can get used to the smell.”
“Do you fuck your sheep?” Tall Elk asked suspiciously.
“No,” the old man snorted. “Not since I was a young buck. No, I keep a favorite lamb, that’s enough for me.”
“What does your lamb do?” Tall Elk handed Rusty’s cup to the old man. The old man held up his hand for Tall Elk to retain the cup.
“Jamie,” the old man called, patting his leg. His pants were made from a combination of cloth and what looked like wolf skin. He unbuttoned the wolf skin and threw the flap back. Tall Elk was ashamed to see the old man’s penis laying between his legs. The lamb ran forward, nuzzled against the old man’s abdomen for a moment, then began eagerly sucking on his penis.
“If the white people only knew what their tasty lambs had been eating,” he smiled, taking the coffee from Tall Elk’s lifeless fingers. Tall Elk was both revolted and amazed by what he was seeing. He took a quick look at the ranch, then sat down to watch the lamb suck the old man’s cock.
“Does it hurt?” Tall Elk nodded toward the lamb.
“No, not at all. A lamb has the softest mouth of any animal, even a woman. Would you like to try it?” the old man asked.
“Maybe when you are finished,” Tall Elk said uncomfortably.
“I have another lamb,” the old man turned, facing his flock. “They grow up so fast, it’s convenient to train many. Angelo,” he called. A second lamb ran forward, it’s small tail flashing behind it. It stumbled against the old man’s leg. The old man pushed it away and looked at Tall Elk. “Call it,” he said eagerly.
“An . . . Angelo,” Tall Elk said uncertainly. The lamb turned toward the unfamiliar voice. It took a few stumbling steps and stood looking at Tall Elk uncertainly. “Angelo,” Tall Elk patted his leg. The lamb ran over to him, sniffing his face eagerly.
“Give him your penis quickly, or he will lose interest,” the old man said. He was obviously enjoying his blowjob very much. He leaned back on one arm, breathing faster as his face turned red. He petted the soft lamb’s head, as it sucked greedily. The old man had grown to an incredible size, but the lamb managed to get his entire penis in his mouth. There was white foam at the corners of the lamb’s mouth. It was happy and eager as it sucked the old man’s cock relentlessly.
“Will he bite?” Tall Elk asked as he pushed down his pants.
“No, of course not. If a lamb was stupid enough to bite, he would die of starvation. Sheep would never allow such nonsense. Some try to bunt if the milk does not flow fast enough, and of course ours does not. I keep an eye out and never use such lambs. These are the gentlest and the best, believe me.”
Before Tall Elk could decide to go through with it, the lamb forced it’s way between Tall Elk’s closed legs and sucked his penis into it’s mouth. With it’s nose firmly pressed against Tall Elk’s abdomen, the lamb began sucking contentedly. Tall Elk felt the suction right down to the roots of his cock, but it was in no way uncomfortable.
“You will grow,” the old man smiled. His face was covered with sweat.
“I am now,” Tall Elk nodded.
“No, the suction will make you bigger,” the old man said, pushing the lamb aside. He had a huge, throbbing penis almost as big as Tall Elk’s forearm.
“My god,” Tall Elk whispered in awe.
“It’s the suction. It makes you a little bigger each time. Have you ever seen a calf suck on a young cow’s tits, making them huge over the years?”
“I don’t have much to do with cows,” Tall Elk said, gritting his teeth against the pleasure. Fire was spreading from the head of his cock to his ass. He felt the ass muscles clenching in time with the lamb’s sucking lips. He was sure he could feel his juices being sucked from the end of his cock. It was the most exciting thing he had ever felt. Wait until he told Silver Quail.
“You will grow big enough to please a horse,” the old man smiled. He suddenly closed his eyes and rested with his face turned toward the sky. He rested on both arms, moving his crotch slightly to meet the eager lamb’s sucking mouth. It was making loud noises as is sucked and smacked. The old man grew more anxious. He twisted and turned his body, digging his heels into the grass. The lamb desperately followed his huge cock with an eager mouth. With a grunt the old man fell back to the grass and waited. He moaned again, like a low cry, and the lamb suddenly changed the way it was drinking. It was obvious that it was getting what it wanted. As it sucked the hot cream from the man’s penis, the old man shuddered in silence. Several minutes passed before the old man reluctantly shoved the lamb aside.
The lamb was using enormous force on Tall Elk’s cock, but the silken flesh of it’s mouth and tongue soothed his heated manhood. He could feel pleasure clear down to the bottom of his toes. There was no doubt now, the lamb was sucking his lubricants from the end of Tall Elk’s cock. At times it drew back and only sucked the head in order to get more lubricant, but only for a moment. Soon it’s nose would be tightly pressed against Tall Elk’s abdomen again.
“This is undescribable,” Tall Elk whispered. The old Mexican simply cackled with laughter, relaxing on the grass from across the fire. He leaned forward and refilled Rusty’s cup, sipping gently as he watched the rambunctious lamb suck Tall Elk’s cock. Tall Elk rolled his lower body back and forth, as if to escape the eager lamb’s working mouth. But he didn’t want to escape it. That was the last thing he wanted. The fire was building in his loins to an intolerable level. The familiar liquid fire which always preceded a massive orgasm. Tall Elk knew this was going to be a big one. The biggest of his life. The fire built even greater, then the whole world seemed to stand still. Tall Elk’s eyes widened as he waited, suddenly his cock began pulsing, pumping sweet cum into the lamb’s hot mouth. The lamb loved the sweetness and began drinking eagerly. Spurt after spurt of cum filled it’s mouth, then began slowing. It sucked harder to pull the last drops of sperm from Tall Elk’s balls, before Tall Elk quickly pushed it away. The lamb rushed back between his legs and sucked again. Tall Elk gasped, nearly screaming in pain and pleasure. He pushed the lamb aside again and jerked up his pants.
“He’s persistent,” the old man chuckled. “I have to look out for him while I take a piss. That lamb has raped me before.”
“That’s the most wonderful thing I have ever felt,” Tall Elk said in awe.
“See why my job is no hardship?” the old man finished is coffee.
“I do,” Tall Elk nodded. “I certainly do. Hey old man, do you own the land up there?” Tall Elk pointed toward the high pastures.
“Own? No, I own only my sheep, and they go where they will. The government owns this land, I just borrow it.”
“Have you considered moving farther south?” Tall Elk smiled. “You could homestead and nobody could ever move you.”
“For a good, woman-cooked meal once in a while, I could gaze my sheep closer to the Lazy N and keep a lamb handy,” the old man laughed knowingly.
Rusty rode slowly, surveying the grassy hill above and below him. He was half way up the hill in a narrow cut valley. Trees offered some shade, the valley offered an escape route if he needed it. It was an ideal camping area and a good place to make coffee. Belatedly, he realized that his cup no longer hung from his saddle. He had left it at Tall Elk’s camp. After taking a long look at the ranch below, to map out the most likely attack routes, he returned to his horse and rode into the shadowed valley. There was a small stream coming from the valley. The water made it’s way between and around boulders the size of houses.
Rusty rode along a gravel bank into the cut until he heard a sound. He paused and loosened the pistol in it’s holster. Riding with his hand on his leg for a quick draw, he passed a huge bolder and found himself looking at naked white flesh. It took him a moment to realize that he was looking at a naked, skinny ass and a pair of kicking feet. It looked like a young boy searching for something on the bottom of a clear pool. A head appeared and a face snorted. A pair of slender hands wiped water out of a very feminine face. The young girl had only the barest trace of breasts, with large, puffy nipples. Rusty felt his cock grow hard immediately. His breath came faster as he stared at those tiny, perfect breasts and inviting nipples. He had never seen anything so sexy in his entire life.
The girl wiped her face again and looked around. Both she and Rusty froze as she noticed him for the first time. “What the hell are you looking at?” she demanded.
“A god awful beauty,” Rusty said breathlessly. The girl seemed confused for a moment, then smiled and looked down. When she looked up again there was a serious expression on her face. “If my daddy catches you here, he will kill you,” the girl said, shaking back her wet hair.
“Who is your daddy?” Rusty smiled.
“Paul Stanley. Of course he’s been heeled lately, somebody took his guns. All he has is a big ole knife and a sore chest. You could probably take him if you’re a good shot.”
“Somebody took his guns? Hey, where does your daddy work?”
“The 3L,” she nodded toward the ranch. She mistook his horrified look for fear. She shrugged and returned to her swim. He tied off his horse and took a seat on a rock. It was obvious, as that shapely ass reappeared, that it belonged to a girl. A perfectly shaped hairless pussy gleamed in the sunlight as she searched the bottom again. She reappeared, snorting, and wiping the water from her face. She gave him a disgusted look.
“Are you still here?” she demanded.
“Of course I’m still here. I will be here until tomorrow.”
“Really,” she smiled. “You are not afraid that my daddy will kill you.”
“No, I’m afraid I will have to kill your daddy,” Rusty said, staring at her amazing chest.
“I wish you would,” she said in disgust. “That son of a bitch has a cock the size of a horse,” she said, wiping the water from her eyes.
“You mean he fucks his own daughter?” Rusty was amazed.
“Every fucking night,” she snorted. “I... I like it sometimes,” she admitted shyly. “But not every night. Actually it hasn’t been too bad since the wagon load of explosives came in. They have to take turns guarding it, and he’s hardly ever home. He’s tried to get me over to his fire a couple of times, but I pretend I can’t hear him.”
“Where’s his fire?” Rusty asked casually.
“West of the ranch, in a grove of trees,” she said with complete unconcern. Rusty’s eyes went in that direction as his mind worked rapidly.
“Hey, what the hell are you looking for?” Rusty asked as she prepared to dive again. Her distrusting eyes studied his face for a moment, then she smiled.
“Gold,” she said in a whisper.
“Gold? There’s no gold in Nebraska.”
“You promise to keep my secret?” she asked with childlike seriousness.
“Of course, but I can tell you, there is no gold here.”
“Wrong,” she said, taking up a piece of cloth and handing him a shiny nugget. He looked at it in disdain, then looked closer. It appeared to be a huge gold nugget. He bit the nugget and it squashed beneath his teeth.
“My god in heaven,” Rusty said in awe.
“I told you so,” she said proudly.
“But you have to file a claim. Otherwise somebody can take it.”
“If I file, others will come. As long as I keep it secret, it’s all mine.”
“Then stake your claim in secret, but don’t file. That will hold up in most courts. Put in short stakes and hide your script in a hollow tree or something. Does Simon Hearn claim this land?”
“Yeah,” she admitted, stepping closer. He could smell the aroma of teenage girl on her body. It was very alluring. Nothing smelled better than wet girl. “You won’t tell, will you cowboy?”
“Me? Hell no,” Rusty laughed. He froze as her hands went around his neck. She was still wet, but for some reason, he didn’t mind. Fearing a trick, his hand went down and pulled the strap over the hammer of his pistol. She might still get it, if she tried, but she would have to struggle.
“I could do things for you?” she gently stroked his face.
“And I wish you would, but it’s not necessary. Your secret is safe with me. I should tell you though, that black stuff which the major is cursing, is probably more valuable than the gold.”
“Smith told him that,” she said, sitting on his dirty jeans, “but he doesn’t listen. He’s only worried about his cattle. Hey, you stink,” she said wrinkling her nose. “You should help me look for gold while you bathe. You can keep part of it.”
“I’d love too, but I’m man hunting, not girl hunting. I need to keep an eye on the ranch.”
“I know just the place,” she said in sudden excitement. “But wash first. I want a good fuck, and you’re closer to my own age than my daddy. I think you might be a good fuck, “she turned her head and gave him a coy smile.
His eyes went over her tiny, skinny body. Her white skin was sprinkled with freckles. She had just the barest touch of pubic hair. He could just imagine that partially hidden, hairless pussy stretching round his manhood. Her breasts were also enticing. Her lips were small and boyish, the least inviting thing on her body. She had cut her hair to less than shoulder length, but still longer than a man’s. All in all, she would grow up to be a great beauty.
“Lord help me,” Rusty whispered.
“No siree,” she said, climbing to her feet. “One man at a time.”