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Paradise Valley 8, Aftermath

“Are you telling me that the women over there do it to each other?” Greta asked, both intrigued and revolted.

“Most of them do. Maybe all of them, I’m not sure. They don’t invite me to watch,” Rusty said ruefully. He laughed, then moaned. His gunshot wound was still painful after a week. Silver Quail believed it had missed his vital organs, but it had taken a notch out of his collar bone. The bullet had come out the back of his shoulder, leaving a clean wound.

“Is it still painful?” Greta asked.

“Oh yeah,” he rolled his eyes, rubbing his shoulder.

“I think you are just trying to get out of giving me sex,” she said, sticking out her lip.

“I can still give you sex. In fact, I would like to eat that little pussy of yours. Have you ever been eaten?”

“You’d better mean licking or I’ll take a whip to you.”

“Of course,” Rusty rolled his eyes again.

“They why didn’t you say licking. Of course I want it you idiot . . . do you really want to lick me,” she suddenly became a little girl again.

“Every damn man on earth would want to lick you, and probably half the women,” he snorted.

“So what do I do?” she asked shyly.

“Give me a shave, get those men’s clothes off, and wash your sweet little pussy. And make it fast, I’m horny as hell,” he moaned, pushing against his penis.

“Ok, but the stove is cold and there’s no hot water, and I ain’t waiting for any,” she shouted as she disappeared into the kitchen. Rusty had shaved in cold water before.

Tall Elk turned when he heard a noise at the door. White Fawn frowned when she saw that he had to turn his entire upper body. His neck would still not move. The explosion had thrown him against a tree. He struck it with his head and backbone. They knew something was seriously wrong. There was a grating sound in his head when he did move his neck.

“How are you feeling, Daddy?” she asked, sitting on the edge of the bed.

“I’m actually feeling pretty . . . bad,” he said truthfully after some thought. He couldn’t lie to his daughter. It would make what came next a shock. Tall Elk looked her over in her white man’s clothing. She was adorable. Her knees were covered, in the fashion of all white women, but her breasts were bulging from the blue flowered material of her dress. She was very sexy.

“You look incredible,” Tall Elk said, taking her hand.

“Thanks. I feel like a floozy, but if you think I look good, it’s worth it.”

“I miss seeing your knees. You have very pretty legs,” he smiled.

“Here,” she said, pulling up the hem of her dress. She piled the material in her lap, revealing an incredible pair of shapely legs. Tall Elk felt his cock grow hard immediately. Silver Quail came in and raised an eyebrow.

“Daddy wanted to see my legs,” White Fawn smiled.

“And if he wanted to see your pussy?” she asked.

“I would show him that too,” White Fawn said primely. “Daddy,” she said, suddenly serious.

“Yes little beauty?”

“Why won’t you and mama touch me any more?”

“Because we didn’t feel right, I guess. Maybe the chance just never came up,” he looked at his wife.

“Does that bother you?” Silver Quail asked.

“Yes. I felt . . . I thought you were mad at me for what I did in camp.”

“Oh sweety,” Silver Quail fell to her knees in front of her daughter. “Don’t ever think that. You are our treasure. You are the reason we live. We wouldn’t have anything without you,” she said, taking White Fawn’s hands in her own.

“It’s true,” Tall Elk nodded, then cried out in pain. His eyes glazed over as he fought tears. His eyes went to his wife, giving her a significant look. White Fawn saw that look and turned pale.

“Oh no, daddy. You aren’t thinking . . . ”

“There are two places for our people, this place and the place without pain,” he said, wiping his eyes. “I have outlived my usefulness here.”

“No, daddy. There’s still a lot you can enjoy here.”

“Not in bed. Not for the rest of my life.”

“This is enjoyable,” she placed his hand on her bulging breast. “This is something to live for,” she pulled her dress down and displayed her perfect tits in all their naked glory. She pulled his hand over her left breast, then moaned softly as he began squeezing it gently. With his neck resting against the headboard for support, he reached out with the other hand and captured her second breast.

“It’s the most enjoyable thing on Earth,” he agreed.

Frightened by her boldness, White Fawn slid the hem of her dress up to her waist, displaying her light colored inner thighs and a hint of pussy. Tall Elk’s eyes bulged, as did his crotch. His penis was making a tent in his pants. White Fawn nervously fumbled with the buttons on his levis. She finally succeeded in yanking them open. His long rigid cock sprang to attention and she grabbed it eagerly.

“This is something to live for,” White Fawn said triumphantly. “I will suck this for you every day of your life to give you something to look forward too.”

“White Fawn,” Silver Quail said uncomfortably.

“No, mama, it’s not fair. I want a father. The pain will go away eventually.”

“It might not. Your father has the right . . . ”

White Fawn sank down and took the head of his cock in her slender red lips. She sucked as she sank down on his long shaft. He shuddered and closed his eyes. His daughter’s lips felt hot and soft.

Silver Quail watched for a moment. Her eyes went from White Fawn to Tall Elk. There was a blissful expression on his face. She took the pistol from the folds of her dress and quietly slid it beneath the bed. Her husband might not be needing it after all. Then her eyes went to the slender legs and lifted skirt of her daughter. That small ass really was very tempting. She placed a hand on White Fawn’s leg and felt her shiver. Silver Quail rubbed that soft leg while watching her daughter give her husband an incredible blowjob. White Fawn lay on her stomach beside her father’s legs, with her feet up kicking in the air. She had her pussy facing the bedpost.

Silver Quail pulled White Fawn’s left leg open and leaned forward. It took a little work, but she slid beneath the folds of her dress and lick White Fawn’s soft, adorable ass. White Fawn moaned around Tall Elk’s cock and moved her body around even more, making it easy for Silver Quail to reach her pussy. With a hiss of passion, Silver Quail lunged forward and sucked that delicate pussy into her mouth, while holding her daughter’s slender legs apart with her hands. She looked at the difference in skin color between White Fawn’s golden thighs, and her sun darkened hands. White Fawn truly did live up to her name, for some obscure reason. She was more white than Sioux.

Youth tastes so sweet, Silver Quail thought. She only regretted not being able to see her daughter bobbing on her husband’s cock. It was the sexiest thing she had ever seen. And if it worked, she owed her daughter everything. She had no right to stop her husband from taking his own life, in fact their society forbade her from interfering. But she had no qualms about letting her daughter interfere. And if anybody could convince him to keep his life it was White Fawn, the sexy little bitch.

Silver Quail extended her tongue and flicked it through the folds of moist flesh. It was hot, fragrant, and delicious. She loved the taste of her daughter’s pussy more than any woman she had tasted so far. She spread those silky soft lips with her thumbs and stared at the delicate flesh inside. It was like a painting. The moist hole was on top, the tiny pee hole in the center, and the teepee hiding her small clit just below that. The pussy tapered down to a perfect vee on the bottom which collected all the moisture from that tiny pussy. She leaned down and licked that area, knowing it was very sensitive, almost as sensitive as her clit.

White Fawn moaned and raised up off the bed to give her mother better access to that area of her pussy. Silver Quail pressed firmly with the tip of her tongue and fluttered over the area for a moment. White Fawn cried around her father’s cock, but continued rising and falling on the wet pole without pause.

Silver Quail sucked the protected clit into her lips and tonged it until she reached the clit itself. She fenced with the little penis, causing White Fawn to cry and wither on the bed. Not wanting her daughter to cum so quickly, she released the clit and snaked her tongue into the musty hole. It was tight, causing her tongue to curl as it slid inside. Her husband would love feeling this pussy around his cock, she thought fleetingly, then wondered if he would be around long enough to enjoy it. Maybe a suggestion of some kind would help in that area. Who could resist a pussy like this, she thought to herself?

She sucked the juices from White Fawn’s moist hole, then allowed the pussy to close as she licked the puffy lips thoroughly, ending at the area beneath White Fawn’s asshole. She was careful since she knew the area between the ass and pussy was very ticklish. She hesitated for a moment and raised her tongue into the nethery valley between the perfect ass cheeks. White Fawn squealed in surprise. She put one hand back on her mother’s head and massaged her hair as Silver Quail flicked her tongue across the rubbery ring. Despite her initial nervousness, Silver Quail loved it. She held the ass cheeks open and lost herself in the fragrant valley between her daughter’s ass cheeks, burrowing more urgently into that rubbery ring with the tip of her tongue. She didn’t know if it would be possible to work her way inside, but she would try.

Tall Elk was torn between the throbbing pain in his neck, and the throbbing pleasure in his penis. His cock jumped each time that sweet mouth bobbed on it. His thigh muscles convulsed with pleasure. He placed a hand on her daughter’s breast and squeezed it lightly. But his attention was on his wife. She was burrowing into White Fawn’s ass, and they locked eyes over those lovely golden globes. Silver Quail smiled, and Tall Elk smiled in return. He knew he was the luckiest man on Earth in some respects. Could he survive being a cripple for what White Fawn and Silver Quail offered him?

White Fawn’s lips were hot and tight around his fleshy shaft. She sank nearly all the way down to his pelvis, then lifted slowly back up. She had her eyes closed in both pleasure and single-minded concentration. Her two fingers worked on the base of his cock, while her lips rose and sank on the rest of it. How she had learned to suck cock so well and so quickly was a mystery to him, but he couldn’t imagine a better blowjob in this world.

Silver Quail clamped her thumb down against White Fawn’s pussy and rubbed it brutally, while gripping her pelvis in her fingers. White Fawn moaned and rubbed back against her mother’s hand. Her widespread thighs tensed and quivered under the multiple stimulation. Her loins heated and tensed, waiting for the horrendous release which she knew was only moments away.

Tall Elk now had his eyes closed. The molten heat of an orgasm was churning in his balls. The shaft of his cock was heating and tightening. Small tremors started before the big explosion. He moaned out loud as the cum shot down the shaft of his cock and into his daughter’s waiting lips. The sperm squirted like rifle shots, from his fleshy gun. She sucked while working her hand on the base in a flurry of motion. Her mouth filled with the initial spurts of cum and some dripped down the side of his cock and onto her hand. She drank quickly, enjoying the fruity sweetness of his cum. As the spurts began to lessen, she sucked leisurely, using her tongue on the side of his sensitive cock, while watching his face to see when she should stop. As his eyes widened in alarm, she stopped licking and continued sucking slowly and gently. When his tremors subsided, she sucked hard for a moment and released his cock. She licked the cum off her hand and rested her face between his legs as her own orgasm neared.

Silver Quail saw the flesh of her ass quiver, then White Fawn began humping her ass back toward her mother spasmodically. She grunted in a quiet voice. Moving down to her pussy once more, Silver Quail licked furiously for a moment, then contented herself to suck gently on the clit. Her daughter vibrated in her mouth. The heat was intense. She enjoyed the moist heat and aroma against her face. She waited for her daughter to relax, then pulled her mouth off her daughter’s cunt. She kissed each ass cheek gently, then allowed her daughter to sit up.

White Fawn grabbed her mother’s face and kissed her urgently. She enjoyed the taste of her own juices on her mother’s lips.

“Oh god, I never get tired of that,” White Fawn said, licking her lips. “Now don’t stop on me again,” she chastised gently.

“I need relief,” Silver Quail said in a quiet voice.

“I have to get back and help Nancy,” White Fawn said, torn between lust and duty.

“Call Willow Bud,” Tall Elk said with a twisted smile. White Fawn nodded and ran for the kitchen with a smile.

“Oh God!” Greta screamed. She looked down to see Rusty’s forehead and eyes between her dainty, perfect legs. His mouth was working in her pussy, and her pussy was on fire. She bounced around on his mouth as his tongue fluttered between her sensitive folds of flesh.

“Yes, Rusty, lick me good,” she whispered. “That feels so good,” she leaned over his head with a hand on each side of the bed. She was thrusting her pussy against his mouth. When her motions grew too hectic, she was the pain in his eyes and controlled her movements. She cried softly, saying meaningless words of encouragement. She suddenly leaned back and rode his face like a bronco. She couldn’t believe the pleasure his fluttering tongue was causing. When he puckered his lips and sucked her clit, she went wild. She swore and cried, then slapped his head to make him stop. He moved on with a smile, sticking his tongue up inside her and draining her of her juices. He was drowning. Her juices were coating his face and running down his neck. It was very fragrant, but very uncomfortable. He did enjoy the heat of her thighs though. Her skin was so soft it felt like butter.

Rusty was fascinated by his wonderful view of bowl sized breasts. He loved her puffy nipples. They were sexy as hell. He wised he could suck on them for a while, but they were much too sensitive to be touched. How could anybody with a boy’s haircut and a boy’s body, be so damn sexy?

“I’ve got to feel you inside me,” Greta gasped, pulling off his face. She undid his pants and pulled them down to his knees. His cock sprang up and she straddled his body and sat on it. It was amazing. The heat and tightness he felt on his cock was incredible. She must be stretched to the breaking point, he thought.

Greta leaned back and sank all the way down on Rusty’s cock. She felt it come up against something inside her pussy, but ignored the slight pain it caused. She watched his face for pain as she slowly rose and fell on his cock. His face twisted in pleasure, not pain. She rotated slightly as he rode his cock without bouncing. Aware of the pain she could cause, she took her time and pulled herself off his cock with intolerable slowness. When she felt the tip of his cock resting inside her tiny pussy lips she pushed herself down with the same care.

Rusty was whimpering and grunting. He licked his lips and whispered encouragement. He made promises and whined. He gasped and cried. A few strokes of that golden pussy would have had any man crying. To be truthful, being so young and so tiny, made Greta’s pussy too small for some men. It was almost too small for Rusty’s. He felt like a strong hand was grasping his cock in it’s grip.

“I’m going to cum,” Rusty warned.

“Me too, I’m close,” she whispered.

“You have to pull off before I cum inside you,” he warned, fully returning to reality.


“So you don’t have a baby, silly.”

“Oh,” her eye grew big and round. She closed her eyes and pumped her pussy up and down for a few more minutes.

“Now,” he warmed her. She pulled off his cock and slid down his leg. She rubbed her pussy against his foot, while her lips recaptured his cock. She sucked gently while his cock pumped thick sperm into her lips. It was much less this time and not as sweet as before. But she didn’t mind. She brought herself to a massive orgasm on his foot, while his cock delivered it’s load. She watched his face while she sucked him dry, seeing the adoration in his eyes. She held his cock in her mouth as her orgasm slowed and died. Feeling only a few small tremors, she rolled off his leg and fell beside him on the bed.

“I hate to mention this, but Tall Elk is very sick,” Rusty said as Greta snuggled up against his leg.

“I know,” she said quietly.

“There is a surgeon in Lincoln,” Rusty said in a quiet voice. “I saw his shingle when I was getting drunk there a few years ago.”

“Would he come here? It must be sixty miles.”

“He would for money. It would probably take a hundred dollars or more.”

“But they don’t . . . ” she turned and looked at his face. “Or gold?”

He nodded silently.

“And that means people will ask where it came from.”

He nodded again.

“And they will know that the doctor knows. They might even follow him or us. Damn!” she said, biting her lip.

“I didn’t want to mention it, but we owe Tall Elk so much. He will kill himself rather than remain crippled. It’s the Indian way.”

Greta sat up and dressed. She helped Rusty pull his pants on and they went out into the kitchen. It was almost sunset. The stock needed to be fed.

“You make coffee and I’ll feed the stock,” Greta said quietly. She pushed through the squeaky screen door and let it close quietly behind her. Rusty watched her walk to the barn through the broken window, while he broke kindling and stuffed it into the stove.

He had the fire going and the coffee pot steaming when she returned.

“No,” she said in a determined voice.

“What?” he was stunned.

“I will not give up my gold. If I do they will get my gold and the crude oil on this land. I thought of another way,” she said with a smile.

“What way?” Rusty found it hard to believe.

“A major roundup. You planned one all along, why not get us all and make it a big one? A third for this ranch, a third for hers, and a third for his operation.”

“Yeah, it might work,” Rusty rubbed his chin thoughtfully. He suddenly realized it was sticky. He looked at her accusingly and washed up in the sink.

“We will take everybody but Nancy and Tall Elk,” he said, drying his face on a striped towel.

“There are three places where we might be able to pick up hands,” Rusty said thoughtfully. “Two are on the way to the roundup area. There’s a place called O’Neill’s trading post, and a saloon and store on the river called Yankton’s. I wouldn’t recommend Yankton’s, it’s a known hideout for river pirates, cutthroats, and outlaws. I doubt if we could find anybody reliable. If we can’t find hands there, we can certainly find them in Sioux City. It’s 30 miles out of our way, but it might be worth a two-day trip. I’m not good for much else.”

“You are good for all sorts of things,” Greta said, wrinkling her nose.

“Well, it’s time for me to prove it. Tomorrow I will start on the fences, while you ride over and discuss this with Nancy. If Tall Elk kills himself there is no point to this discussion.”

“Aren’t you worried that I will have one of those lose women go down on me?” she asked coyly.

“No, I’m afraid you will dally with one of them without letting me watch. But I would survive the letdown,” he smiled.

“You’re damned right you would,” she said in all seriousness. “If I dally with any of them, nobody in hell will watch. I’d be too nervous.”

“Fair enough,” Rusty laughed. “What’s for supper?”

“What can you cook?”

Between the hot sun and the throbbing pain in his shoulder, it was hard to work with a hammer and pliers. By noon his shirt was soaked with sweat and turning white in places. Rusty carried a coil of smooth wire on his horse for mending fences. It was a traditional way of mending fences from horseback, because smooth wire didn’t poke a horse like barbed wire. He made mental notes of the water holes which needed to be fenced off. So far there were three of them.

Rusty stopped to make coffee and heated up some biscuits he had made the night before to go with beef jerky stew which Greta had made. He frowned at its grotesque shape as he bit into the biscuit and ate thoughtfully. He was in the middle of digging a post hole for a broken post. It was brutal work on his painful shoulder. After the first few minutes he found ways to ease the pain and the work by levering the shovel over his knee. The farm needed a good pair of post hold diggers, among other things.

The coffee boiled and he filled his tin cup. He looked up at the hill to the south and saw a rider skylining himself. He was a stranger. The man sat his horse for a moment, probably looking at the ranch, and finally kicked his horse into motion. He was in no hurry and neither was Rusty. He could finish the hole and confront the man before Greta was due to return.

Rusty was not happy with the depth of the post when he was finished, but it was the best he could manage with a shovel. He pulled one existing wire over the post and twisted it tight. He quickly spliced the second, broken wire and slid the pliers back into a saddle bag. He wiped his face and looked toward the ranch. It was hidden by a low hill. He pulled his pistol into position and mounded his horse. It was a quick trip back to the ranch. When he arrived, the horse was tied to the hitching post and the man was nowhere in sight.

Rusty dropped from his horse and used it as a screen as he walked around it and approached the house. He didn’t recognize the horse or brand. The man came to the screen door with one of Rusty’s biscuits in his hand. He gulped and swallowed quickly when he saw Rusty. He was obviously expecting somebody else.

“You’ve made yourself to home,” Rusty said in a low voice.

“I was . . . A bartender in Lincoln said a Major Hearn was hiring,” he swallowed quickly.

“Trespassing is a killing offence in some parts of the country and I believe this is one of them,” Rusty said levelly.

“Ah . . . sorry,” the man hurried outside. The screen door slammed like a rifle shot. A horse rode into the yard and Rusty looked up to see Greta. There was no recognition in her eyes. He was sure there would be. This man had been too the ranch before.

“I’m Barton Hence,” the man said, extending his hand. Rusty backed away with his hands in the air. He would not tie up his gun hand in a shake.

“Sorry,” the man said. There was real regret in his face. Whether it was regret that Rusty didn’t trust him, or that his ploy had failed, was open for discussion.

“Mister, I don’t know you and I found you in our house. Now either you’re pretty free with other people’s property, or you were under the impression that Major Hearn still owned it and you knew him. Which is it?”

“I’ve met him before,” Hence reluctantly admitted.

“Then I suggest you water your horse and get the hell out,” Rusty said.

“We need men,” Greta reminded him. He knew that, but what kind of men? There would be four women and two men on this cattle drive, and he sure as hell didn’t trust Hence.

“How badly?” he asked beneath his breath.

“Very badly,” she whispered. She didn’t tell him that they would be leaving tomorrow, in case the man stayed behind.

“The bunk house is empty,” Rusty said reluctantly. “Can you cook?”

“Only for me. Nobody else seems to find it edible.”

“Then you can have meals with us. Usual hours,” Rusty said, passing him and going inside.

“These biscuits are actually good,” the man said as he led his horse toward the corral.

“Thanks,” Greta said. “Take my horse too,” she called, whipping the reins around the hitching post.

Rusty started to object when she took credit for his biscuits, then shook his head and laughed.

Rusty was apprehensive about hiring this new man, but since they had hired him he would be have to go along. It was better than leaving him behind with an empty ranch and Nancy nursing an invalid next door. At least they could keep an eye on him that way.

“I don’t like him,” Rusty said as he opened Greta’s shirt that night. She was sitting across his lap on the bed.

“Jealous?” she asked coyly.

“Damn right,” he said, watching her from the corner of his eye, as she stood and removed her pants. Her abdomen was slender and incredibly sexy in the yellow light of the lantern. “I heard you take credit for my biscuits,” he said, dodging her tiny fist. Rusty swung his feet off the bed and stripped. The work of the day had brought out the pain in his shoulder. They took turns using the wash basin and threw the dirty water out the open window.

“It’s ok to be jealous once in a while,” Greta said, lying next to him. Her naked body felt warm and soft against his skin. “The men here treated me like a boy. They made fun of me,” she said in a quiet voice. “If you find me attractive, say so once in a while. Please?”

“Attractive? I want to marry your skinny ass. In fact I planned on asking you when we got to the Lazy N. But I guess this is a more appropriate time. Will you marry me, Greta?”

“Let me think about it,” she trust out her chin. “Yes!” she yelled before his fingers could touch her ticklish ribs. “Yes, I will marry you. And I will stick around as long as you treat me good. If you ever stop treating me like you do today, I will leave. And I’ll shoot you if you follow me,” she said with a serious face.

“Fair enough. Now where in the hell is the sex?” he asked in a demanding voice.

Barton Hence, a.k.a. Barton Simon, stood by the window and chewed on a piece of grass. His brother, Major Simon Hearn, who’s real name was Martin Simon in most parts of the country, had established the ranch as a cover for the largest rustling operation in Indian Territory. It appeared his brother had overreached himself and gotten himself killed. Barton could not claim the ranch without revealing his real name and his ties with the Major. In some parts of the country such a revelation meant sudden death. Even with his assumed name a lynching party could show up at any time. He was taking a chance by staying on, but it was the closest thing he had to a home in the world.

He started to turn away from the window when the skinny girl sat up on the bed and opened her shirt. His eyes grew round and he stepped closer to the lilacs by the window. She had a very nice set of breasts, for such a skinny body. Her nipples were so puffy and huge that he felt his cock grow hard in his pants. Barton knew she was older than she looked, his brother had written about her. The Major had planned on nailing her when things settled down. Maybe Barton could nail her for him. On the other hand, that Rusty was mighty salty and he didn’t want him on his back trail. Maybe he’d leave her alone.

“I don’t like him,” Rusty said, as if reading his thoughts.

“Jealous?” the little minx asked in a sassy voice. It was a good way to get a man killed, with talk like that. Boy would he like to nail her skinny little ass. Even as he watched she shucked her pants and stood in all her naked glory. He moaned as his eyes wandered over her perfect little body. Her abdomen was almost hairless. He couldn’t see her pussy, but he imagined it would be small and glorious.

They bathed in the wash basin as he ogled her nakedness. He saw the water flying toward the window just a little too late. He made a face as his shoes and pants legs grew wet and uncomfortable.

“Son of a bitch,” he mumbled to himself. Rusty lay on the bed and the little bitch straddled his body. She looked very nice, with her short hair and skinny body. Kind of like a cross between a boy and a girl. Barton had actually tried both in his lifetime and he had no real preferences. He moved closer to the window in the darkness where he could see her pussy stretched around his cock. It was nice. Tiny and well defined and none of that nasty hair that most women carried like a beaver pelt.

She began riding up and down on his cock. Barton grabbed his own cock and squeezed it. It was a good thing he had the bunkhouse to himself. He would be masturbating for hours after this show.

The little bitch was riding faster now. She cupped her own breasts as she leaned back over Rusty’s legs. Her back was arched like a bow. All her tiny ribs stuck out on her body. Rusty’s cock glistened in the lamp light. The little bitch was juicing him up real nice. Barton fingered his cock through the material of his pants, while watching breathlessly. She cried out occasionally now. Rusty had her ass in both hands, helping her ride his cock, or restraining her. That pussy was so small he was amazed that it could fit over a man’s cock. It must feel wonderful.

In a second they were both moaning and gyrating. The little bitch leaned forward and kissed Rusty passionately, while scooting her little pussy forward and back. She was the sexiest thing he had ever seen. It might be worth having Rusty on his back trail for a taste of that little demon. She was hot.

Greta rolled off Rusty’s body and he reached out and turned the lamp down. Barton silently saluted the happy couple and turned, slinking back into the bunkhouse. Only the stink of his unwashed genitalia, detracted from the masturbation and the memories. But he was used to that.


2005-10-16 18:59:28
Dont stop writing your soo soo good at it


2005-07-08 19:30:15
I hope this is not the end. You have done so well with this series and just enugh sex to keep everyone on their toes. Ending it here would be a flat ending. As well as you write you can do a much better job.

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