Paul Longfellow - Can_t stop the sex

"We were on our way to Tombstone, Arizona," she said. "M-my husband was going out to join his brother there; they wanted to set up a freighting business. And then… and then the Indians came and…"

She finally dissolved into a crying spell, tumbling down from her horse and leaning against the big Morgan as she shook with relief. Logan dismounted and came around to her. He stood awkwardly beside her and patted her shoulder; he appeared to be a capable enough frontiersman but nothing in his rough career had prepared him to cope with an hysterical woman.

"I'll be all right," she finally said. "It's just such a relief to know that I'm going to be safe, that I can get back to civilization again! Tell me, how far are we from Fort Davis/ Can we get there today.-'"

"Uh, that s kind of a problem," Logan muttered. "We ain't going to Fort Davis, least not me."

"But I've got to get there!" Gloria exclaimed. "Can't I take a stage from there and get on out to Arizona/"

"Yes'm, you could do that," Logan admitted. "But I ain't going to Fort Davis. Fact is, I was just heading away frorn there when I came up on what was left of your wagon train."

"B-b-but I don't understand," she wailed incredulously. "Why can't we go to Fort Davis?"

"Well, I was working there, signed on to do a turn of scouting," Logan explained. "But me and this captain, we come to a parting of the ways. The argument got a little rough and… well, I decked him at the end. I ain't sure but what! might have broke his neck. Whichever way it is, I ain't about to go back there and pul! no stockade time!"

"But what am I going to do?"

"You said you were going on to Tombstone?"

"That's right; my brother-in-law is setting up a business there."

"Well, ma'am, I'd as soon go that way as any other," Logan drawled. "A little rather, in fact-less chance of running into some lawman that might want to send me back to Fort Davis. Why couldn't we just take over them horses and stuff that Indian plundered from your train and head off through Mexico.-' We could get a pretty good price for them animals down in Chihuahua and then strike out for Tombstone."

"How far is it to Fort Davis?" she asked.

"Oh, must be a hundred miles at least. Two, three days of good, hard riding, that's for sure, even if you knew the way and didn't get lost or run into Indians."

"Indians?"

"The Mescaleros travel through here a good bit," Logan said. "And the Lipans, there's still some of them that wander over from Mexico. You might run into a cavalry patrol along the way somewheres; that'd make it a lot easier for you. But then you might not."

"Suddenly your proposal sounds a lot better," she remarked with a wry grimace. "I don't suppose I could persuade you to take me close to the fort?"

"Ma'am, I'm just as close to that fort as I ever want to be,' Logan vowed. "They'll have patrols out looking for me and it's a risk I'm not gonna take. Tell you what -we can head down to the Rio Grande and ease along the south bank to Ojinaga. Maybe I could put you across the river there; Fort Leaton's only a couple miles upstream. That's about the best I can do for you."

"Well, it's certainly better than risking it on my own," she said. "All right, Mr. Logan, let's do it your way!"

They left the Indian where he had fallen, taking only the knife from his belt. Logan added the dead man's horse to the collection and drove them all before him. They went straight across the plain, travelling almost due south, and made an early camp on the side of a mountain.

"I figured I'd take the pack off that horse there and drive 'em all down to the sump off yonder," he said. "Might be that you'll be wanting some time to yourself or something."

Gloria was touched at his thoughtfulness but found that there was nothing to do. She stretched a blanket over a bush, making a hasty shelter from the sun, and sat down to ponder the fate which had brought her thus far. There could be no doubt that she was much better off with Logan than with the Indian. For one thing, Logan seemed to possess somewhat more of a cultivated air than most of the rough, brawling men she had seen on the frontier. And certainly he did not seem to expect to avail himself of her body, at least not openly.

"It's just as well he doesn't," she said to herself as she watched his herding the horses toward a small clump of greenery down on the valley floor. "The way he's built, he'd probably have a… a cock so big it would tear me in two! That Indian was bad enough, heavens knows!"

Even though she felt a definite sense of relief at knowing that she would not be raped again, she also became aware of a gnawing undercurrent of dissatisfaction. Was it possible, she wondered, that she had become accustomed to the rough, brutal treatment she had experienced at the Indian's hands.'' She grimaced expressively, remembering the way his prick had felt when he had thrust it into her mouth, the heady aroma and taste, and the savage thrill she had felt when he had begun to shoot his come deep into her throat. Gloria relived that moment but then, catching herself, upbraided herself for succumbing to lewd, lustful thoughts.

You've going to have to start acting like a widow, she sternly reminded herself. But oh! How are you going to do thatr' You didn't even have time to learn how to begin acting like a wife!

When Logan returned he hobbled the horses and turned them out to graze. He opened the pack the Indian had thrown together and began sorting out the various items.

"How about looking through this stuff''" he asked, giving her a tender smile. "We'll be down by Boquillas village tomorrow; probably we can trade off most of it for food and stuff. You ought to look through and keep whatever you want, or what belongs to you."

She came over to the pile and looked down at the collection.

"That nickel-plated pistol, that was my husband's," she said. "Maybe I ought to keep that."

He brought out the pistol and handed it to her, together with its belt and holster. Rummaging further, he found a.44 Henry repeater which he took up and set aside.

"Always wanted me one of these," he said. "My old Spencer, she'll reach out right smartly but she don't carry but one round. That little Henry there, you can load 'er up on Sunday and shoot all week!"

"This country where we're going, is it dangerous.''"

"Oh, it's about like anywhere else, I reckon: dangerous if you don't keep an eye peeled. There's some Indians and some bandidos, too, but generally you can ride around 'em if you know they're there. We won't have no trouble, I'm pretty sure of that."

"You sound as though you know what you're about."

"I've ridden over most of that country," Logan said. "One way or another, I've covered about all of it."

"What line of work are you in.' I mean, can a person be a scout all his life;*"

"Sure, except that scouts' lives generally ain't that long," he said with an easy chuckle. "I've done a turn or two at it but mostly I've been working with wagons and mules. Teamster, wagonboss, scouting, even done a little cowboying in my time. I've taken three wagon trains from El Paso to Chihuahua in my time."

He pulled out a foodsack from his saddlebag, apologizing for the lack of variety; his menu was the same as the Indian's-jerked meat and pinole. His foodsack was as greasy and filthy as the Indian's too, Gloria noticed, but her hunger was strong enough to overcome any repugnance.

"Once we get down to Boquillas village, I'll scout around and see if I can't find somebody to sell us a home cooked meal," he promised. "Be a nice change from this stuff."

"This is what the Indian had," she said through a mouthful of meat.

"Better get used to it," he advised. "Long as we're out of a town this is going to be it till we get to Tombstone. You won't starve but then again you likely won't put on much weight either!"