”“Real strong one ... the kind that almost hurt.” He caressed her back. Although his erection was subsiding he continued holding and stroking her. Her muscles began to relax. Her lips parted and she began deep and regular breathing through both her nose and her mouth.Irene slept atop him for about twenty minutes before she began to feel heavy on him. Martin leaned to one side to slide from under her. She stirred and he drew her against him under his arm. She held him across his chest and rested her head on his shoulder. “Mmm,” she said. “You listened...” She kissed his cheek. “ ... you paid attention ... gave me what I needed.”“It was good for me, too,” he said softly. Her legs twitched against his and she again fell sleep.She drowsed for an hour and then stirred. “What time is it?” she asked.“Ten thirty.”“Did you sleep more?”Martin shook his head. “No. I was enjoying the view.”“I must’ve needed it.”“You must’ve needed something else.”“That, too. It all felt really good, Martin.”“At. I was certain those subjects were seldom discussed by any of those other ladies when Sunday rolled around and it came time for some serious socializing. I noticed that an awful lot of words were exchanged, but it seemed like not much was said of any lasting import unless you got the inside scoop on where the fish were biting or who was fooling around with the hired help.The long-awaited Angela was due in on the next stage.The familiar Butterfield coaches were all replaced now by the Wells Fargo blood red coaches.They made easy targets for the reservation jumping Indians that were looking for free rotgut and a chance to lift the petticoats of some shrieking white woman and prove that they were born to run wild and raise hell until the day they died.It was true there were some outrages against the slow-moving settler females, but it sort of paled into obscurity when taken into contrast with the reality of the Battle of Little Big Horn and the government sponsored genocide against the.
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