James Goes West
Chapter 2

Copyright© 2005 by Old 1 Eye

Erotica Sex Story: Chapter 2 - James wants to go out west to seek his fortune. See how his travels unwind.

Caution: This Erotica Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa   Consensual   Romantic   Historical   Harem   Slow  

I was making good time since I was able to ride. I got to Selma in two and a half days and crossed the Alabama River on the ferry there.

I found a construction job in Selma, and asked if they needed a carpenter. They hired me for five dollars a week plus board.

I worked for three weeks and let the stock rest and recover from a pretty hard trip from Lowndesboro to Selma. I bought some supplies and some grain for the mules and horse and left Selma ten dollars ahead.

I left and made good time through the flatland between Selma and Uniontown. Just past Uniontown I saw a man dragging a woman up the road by the hair. He was drunk, and yelling at her.

I got closer and could see that she was a young Indian woman. He had beaten her and her face was swollen. "Mister, does that woman belong to you?" I asked not being able to tolerate a man beating a woman very well.

"I am free," the woman gasped.

The man turned to slap her. "Mister, if she isn't yours, I can't let you beat her."

He pulled a knife and threatened, "Put your nose back where it belongs, boy."

"Let her go," I said. I pulled my revolver from my holster.

He let go of her hair. She started crawling away. When I glanced at her, he threw his knife. It stuck in my right leg. He ran toward me. I was able to get three shots into him before he got to me and he fell at the horse's feet.

I was surprised that I wasn't bleeding very much from the knife wound.

The woman got up and came to look at my wound. "Thank you very much for saving me from that man. He kidnapped me, and meant to rape me, I think."

"I have some whiskey to wash up our wounds." I said.

She pulled the knife out of my leg gently. I nearly passed out. She took it and cut a clean piece of his shirt and got the whiskey from my saddlebag.

I got down gingerly and then sat down on the side of the road. She told me to take my pants down so she could look at the wound. She scrubbed the cut with the whiskey, a very unpleasant experience.

She tied an undershirt on my leg for a bandage, and I pulled my pants back up. I got another clean undershirt from my things and cleaned up her cuts. "Let me take you home," I told her.

She got everything of value from the bad guy and loaded up behind me. I had passed her house about a half a mile up the road. We talked. Her name was Rose Branch. She was a Creek Indian. Her family had a small farm here.

We got to her farm and found where her brother had been killed. She cried and said he was the last of her family. "I don't know what I will do now. I can't work the farm by myself."

"If you want to stay here, I will help you until you can get things going again," I told her.

 
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