Chapter 7

Most of the folks in the wagon train were bone-tired of the constant daily routine of breaking camp and the dry dusty hours of slow travel across the parched plain.

Margaret was not in that group because she was basking in the glow of no longer being a slave to some male master that used her body as their personal “whipping boy” or raw sex at every opportunity. The eldest daughter on her wagon was enthusiastic about licking her pussy and she returned the favor listening to the other sisters giggling in their beds wondering what they were doing under the buffalo skins. The mother couldn’t care less as long as Margaret provided almost manly protection to their unit and kept the rough neck married men away from their wagon unless they were invited for a fee to enjoy a mindless fumbling under the buffalo skins with one of the girls. The mother didn’t engage in that sort of foolishness anymore, but her wrinkled skin was enough to keep them from even considering her as a bed partner any longer. As for Margaret, her darkened skin and tough attitude made them keep their distance because she was devoid of any inclination for romance with the mostly married men or boys too young to engage in coitus without their mother’s approval.

They came up against a raging rain-drenched river that same afternoon and it was a welcome change from the draught afflicted terrain behind them. Still, it was too dangerous to cross with the heavy wagons and they sent out scouts upriver and down river to look for a less dangerous ford to cross the muddy water.

Margaret went with the group that scouted the downriver direction handing her revolver to the mother and telling her to try not to use either of the bullets unless it was absolutely necessary. The mother was battle-scarred from encounters with renegade Indians and the bandits that had hit the wagon train more than once.

Margaret’s group had one old, bearded man and two teenaged boys with long rifles eager to show their manhood and tired of bouncing on the rusted springs of their respective wagons crowded with young ones and parents that ordered them from dawn to dusk. A pair of Indians working with the mountain man guide went with them to make certain they didn’t get into any ambush with renegade Indians. One of the Indians was a half-breed with kinky hair that made him look like a strange mix of Indian and black man more like an Aborigine than a native Indian with darkened skin more from the sun than from genetics if the truth be known.

The oldest boy who had just turned eighteen was called Jake and he was the one that was always smiling no matter the circumstance and she figured it was part of his personality and not false like the young lads living at the Fort just looking for free pussy from the soldier’s wives. She had given in to some of their pleas for quick sex on rare occasions much to her regret because her husband discovered the fact and had beaten her bottom so hard that she couldn’t sit down for almost two full days. Still, it was an adventure, and she would do it again if she thought there would be no repercussions from her carnal urges hoping the young lad would keep his mouth shut about her weakness.

The younger lad was called Johnny and he was only about sixteen and still wet behind the ears and probably a virgin to boot. Margaret felt pity for him but had no urge to use his innocence for her carnal desires and decided to set her cap for the older teen boy at the first opportunity. She was almost licking her chapped lips thinking about his hidden dick wondering if it was long enough to hit her special spots that needed to be mucked about with serious intent.

The old, bearded man seemed far too old to be a serious contender for her favors, but she kept him in mind as a possible back-up if the boy was a failure in the fucking department. She didn’t even consider the Indians as viable contenders for servicing her pussy because of her years of slavery under their rule and her need for civilized loving from a male of her own race.

They came upon a possible fording place but when they tested the depth they found it was not a good choice because in the middle it had a bottom shelf drop-off that would prove to dangerous for a heavy wagon to risk the fast moving current.

The rest of the afternoon was equally as disappointing, and they set up camp at a fork in the river deciding that they would split up their scouting party and explore both streams to see if there was a safe passage across the water. She went with the old man, the half-breed Indian and the older teen boy called Jake to the westerly stream agreeing to meet up back at the fork the following morning with their report.

She made the coffee that evening at their new camp.

The old man was extremely tired and went immediately to sleep and the half-breed scouted along the river’s edge looking for a safe passage.

Alone in the camp with Jake like her shadow, Margaret led the boy to the other side of a small ravine and told him, “Jake take your trousers down and let me see your cock. I will show you my pussy if I like what I see. Please be quick about it because I want us to have our clothes back on before the old man wakes up or the half-breed returns from his patrol.”