Chapter 3

There was more rustling and Rex had a thought.

“Could I maybe light a candle, so I could see?” he asked, hopefully.

“Yes, of course,” said Madeline, whose hand had been ranging over Bob’s skin. She could feel the muscles beneath that skin and she had a sudden rush of lust as what she had been missing for so long seemed to creep closer.

“You should kiss me,” she whispered, as Bob’s face came close to hers.

Their lips met. Both sets of lips were soft and pliant. Bob was normally aggressive, when he was with a whore. He was paying good money and he wanted things to happen according to his desires, and not necessarily hers. Now, though, he was with a woman who wasn’t a whore. She was a lady. She deserved to be treated ... better? He was also conflicted because he still had a role to play and he was still ad-libbing. That first kiss was tentative and it felt to her like this really was something new for him. She pulled back and said, “That was nice, Bob,” just as the scrape of a match and sudden brilliance lit the cave as Rex lit a candle. He’d had to find Bob’s clothes in the dark and then find a match and then find a candle.

What he saw was Bob’s naked body stretched out and pressed up against Madeline’s body, which was still covered by her clean chemise. He stood, frozen in the light of the candle, hunched over to prevent hitting his head on the roof of the mine. To an outsider who could magically see this scene, he would have looked like some denizen of the darkness, stooping to watch an unwary couple engaged in intimacy, his naked body gleaming faintly in the light of the candle he was holding. He would have looked dangerous, because his penis was fully erect.

Neither Bob nor Madeline looked at him, though. The light aided them, too, and now Madeline could see Bob’s rough, bearded face. His moustache and beard had tickled her face during the kiss, but it had been delightful, something new for her.

“That wasn’t so bad, now, was it?” she whispered.

“No. It wasn’t,” he replied. “Can I do it again?”

“Yes, of course, as much as you want to.”

“How about me?” asked the figure hunched over them.

“Wait your turn,” said Bob, brusquely, keeping eye contact with Madeline.

Three or four kisses later Madeline took Bob’s hand and brought it to her breast. She covered his hand and pushed, closing her fingers to show him what to do. He did that, gently mauling her soft flesh. Her breasts were large, and gravity had taken only a light toll on the muscles that supported them. Had she nursed a baby, her breasts would probably have been flabby and sagged, but hers were still firm and drooped only a little.

She broke the kiss long enough to tell him that a woman liked to have her breasts touched like he was touching them.

“The cloth is soft,” he commented, intentionally bringing her attention to the difference in the way they were clothed.

“You’ve seen a man’s body,” she assumed aloud. “Would you like to see a woman’s?”

“I think I would,” said Bob, suppressing his desire to jump on top of her and finish the way a man should finish.

She sat up and pulled her chemise up and over her head. She felt giddy, rather than ashamed. Desire had robbed her of her normal inhibitions. The closeness they had already shared had made this situation different than any she’d been in before. She didn’t question that. She just let things happen. She wiggled out of her underpants, exposing a fluffy nest of dark hairs, the same color as the hair that was cascading down her back.

“Wow,” said Rex, still standing over them.

Madeline looked at him and saw he was stiff. She did not reflect on why he might be stiff. Given her current mindset, if she had thought about it, she might have assumed that it was because Bob was naked.

Bob didn’t know what to say. Would a man like she thought he was tell her she was beautiful? That’s what he wanted to say, because she was the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen in his life. Some of that was mere lust, but the other side of that coin was that the women he had seen naked prior to this were women who had been ridden hard and put away wet. They had been fun and some of them had even been pleasant. But none of them looked like this woman and none of them were his friend. That thought exploded into his mind. He had never had a female friend.

“Are we ... friends?” he asked.

She had lain back down and was facing him again, their bodies just inches apart. There was room because Rex was still standing.

“I think so,” she said.

“I’ve never had a woman friend,” he said.

His definition of “friend” was much different than how Madeline interpreted the word. Women were friends with other women. Men were friends with other men. These two men were friends, under circumstances which had led them astray. That’s what she was trying to correct at this very moment!

“I want to be your friend,” she said. “I want us to be special friends, who can do this instead of what you have been doing.”

“How does that work, exactly?” Bob ad-libbed.

“I’ll show you, but first I need to teach you what goes before.”

“What goes before?”

“It’s a sort of prelude to the act,” she said. “It can get both of us very excited.”

“Well, I didn’t think this would be exciting, but it is,” he said, half lie and half truth.

“I’m so glad!” she yipped, and then kissed him again. This time her kiss was more passionate, as her joy surged through her lips.

Bob reached for her breast again, without her needing to help him. Now he cupped her heavy, naked breast and gently squeezed it. His fingers found her nipple and pinched it.

“Mmmmm,” she said into his mouth, giving him non-verbal, or maybe semi -verbal encouragement.

He wanted to roll on top of her, but he restrained himself. He was enjoying the kiss, but he wanted to move things forward. He pulled his lips back and whispered.

“I know what a man is like ... down there. Can I find out what a woman is like?”

“Yes,” she sighed.

She took his hand and lifted her top leg, bending the knee to open herself. Again, she put her hand on top of his, once it was in place, and she pressed her middle finger to make his middle finger dip between her flushed sexual lips.

“Where your finger is, there is a bump,” she said. “A woman really likes it when a man strokes that bump gently.”

“You feel slippery,” he commented, as he tried to feel what she was talking about. This was actually new to him. None of the whores ever talked about a bump. They just spread their legs and told him to get on with it.

“That will help with things ... later,” she said. “Do you feel the bump?”

He had to move his finger almost out of her split before his fingertip felt what she had described. The rest of his finger couldn’t discern it because his calluses were too thick. He pressed with his fingertip and the bump slid sideways.

“Gently!” she gasped. “It’s very sensitive. It loves to be touched, but not roughly.”

He lightened the pressure and slid his finger sideways, over the bump. It moved and then slipped out from under his fingertip, to go back to its original position. He wished he could see this bump, because this was something he’d never heard about before. He flipped it back and forth several times and her hips lurched.

“Yessss, like that,” she panted. “You have no idea how good that feels. You’re making me feel good, Bob. You can make a woman feel good.”

He worked the bump some more and, at one point, the movement of her hips was so violent that his finger slid through her trough and went inside her, up to his first knuckle.

“There’s a hole!” he groaned, using all his grit to keep play-acting, as if he’d never felt one. In truth, he hadn’t ever put his finger in one.

“That’s where this is supposed to go,” she gasped, reaching for his penis. She expected it to be soft, still, but it wasn’t. Now it had reared its head and what her hand found was a thick column of flesh that surprised her. When she did this to Richard, her fingertips touched the tip of her thumb. His prod had fit into her hand in about the same way her hairbrush did. Bob’s, though, was thicker, heavier, more substantial, somehow.

“It feels different,” he huffed, sliding his finger farther into her. She was hot and slick, tight, even around his finger.

“It is different,” she gasped. “It’s where a man’s manhood is supposed to go.”

“I guess I could try that,” he grunted. “Can I try that?”

“Of course,” she breathed. “I want you to try it.”

With the last of his acting skills, and thinking about what she thought he and Rex did, Bob sat up and said, “All right. I hope the rough floor doesn’t hurt your hands and knees.”

The image of Rex, on his hands and knees, led her mind to when Richard had done to her when she asked him what “corn-hole” meant. She had felt like an animal, then, because it was obvious when men were with men, they did it like animals do it.

“No!” she barked. “It’s not like an animal with a woman. You must get on top of me. Then you can put it in me and we can kiss and move.”

“On top of you,” he sighed. “All right, I might as well give it a try.”

He moved and she rolled to spread her legs for him. Both men saw, in the candle light, her lush body, with her big, round milk jugs and dark, fat nipples. Between her spread legs the lush forest of black hair glistened in the flickering candle light. A pair of thick, pink lips nestled in that hair. They watched as her hand slid between her legs and she used two fingers to spread those lips apart.

“You’ll put it here, between my fingers,” she gasped. “Then you push in, slowly.”

Bob couldn’t take it any longer. He climbed between her legs. His body cast a shadow over her as he tried to get lined up.

“Help me,” he grunted and her hand appeared as if by magic to bring him to her portal.

As soon as the head sank into her she gasped. He was too eager, at the end of his rope, and he kept pushing, sending him in until his balls bounced off her butt in maybe two seconds.

“Slowly!” she groaned, as her legs waved in the air beside his hips.

“I’m sorry,” he panted.

This was different for Bob. He had never felt like this before. Having sex had never felt like this before. Always before this, sex had been a transaction in which he used a woman’s pussy to feel good and shoot. He never had an interpersonal relationship with the woman. Most often he had never even met her before the transaction took place. He only bought a woman rarely because it was expensive. And he was always on the move. He had never been happy returning to the ranch he had left while herding the cows northward, and then sitting around, polishing tack, or putting up hay, until another herd was ready to go. When that happened he drifted until he found another rancher who needed a hand to drive a herd to market. He had made the trip twenty times since he was sixteen. That was why he decided it might be time to do something else, and digging gold out of the ground sounded like it might be a good alternative. It would be nice to have more cash money than you had to have to live, for once.

Now, with his aching bone deep in a woman he not only knew, but liked a lot, the whole process felt different. He felt like he needed to be careful not to break something. If a saloon girl turned up her nose at him, who cared? But if something about this made Madeline Fitzwater shun him, it would hurt.

“Ohhh,” he groaned, as he pushed to lessen the stimulation of her clasping pussy. “This feels so different!”

“It feels as it should feel,” she whined. “Ohhh, please keep doing that.”

“Doing what?” he panted. “I’m not doing anything, right now.”

“Yes you are. You’re moving back and forth and it feels divine. If you keep doing that I’ll climax!”

“What’s that?” asked Bob, when she used an unfamiliar word.

“I’ll climax!” she squealed, having no other word for it in that moment.

“I don’t want to hurt you,” he groaned.

“You’re not hurting me! You’re making me feel ahhhhHHHAIEEEEEEE!” she finished with a scream of release. This orgasm was particularly strong for several reasons. One was that it had been four years since she had copulated. Another was that she felt like she was curing a man of a dread affliction. Yet another was because Richard had never prodded her like this, crushing her bump while the tip of his prod poked at something deep inside her that barked, but barked happily. Then there was the fact that she liked Bob. There was a relationship there. Granted, as that relationship was built, there were no plans on either one’s part to end up like they currently were. That had been serendipity, simply what turned out to be a happy mistake.

At least they were both happy in that moment.

Bob learned what “climax” meant as she screamed, her voice loud in the confined area. Had anyone been at the outside opening of the vent, they would have heard her scream clearly. It would have sounded as if she was being attacked, possibly murdered!

But there was no one to hear her as she found an intense kind of relief that made her wrap her arms and legs around her lover tightly.

What Bob felt was a tightening around his cock that locked him in place. He tried to pull back and felt her internal flesh move with him. Then, suddenly the pressure was gone, until it returned. It was like wash on the line, whipping in the wind. It was there and then gone, over and over. He was able to ease out and then slam back in. He was so excited it only took him four or five strokes before his nuts tightened and he felt the familiar rush of soothing relief race through his cock as his semen gushed into the woman’s belly.

“Ohhhh, Maddie,” he groaned. “I never knew it could feel like this.”

“This - is - how - it - should - feel,” she panted, trying to catch her breath.

“I want to know how it feels,” moaned Rex.

“Yes!” gasped Madeline.

She had cured one man. Now she could cure another.

She pushed at Bob, gently urging him to get off of her.

“Normally we would stay here and cuddle,” she said, “but Rex needs to do what you did.”

In any other circumstances Madeline would have been shocked to the point of stupefaction if someone had suggested a woman – any woman – should let two men mount her in a row. It would have been unheard of, ridiculous, not to mention completely immoral. She would have had no idea that one of the major stops on her way to California was a place where Mormons who had settled in Idaho only fifteen years earlier, had sexual practices very much like this, except it would be reversed. She was submitting to two men, while a Mormon man might have two or three women in his bed.

Her circumstances, however, were like the hammer of a blacksmith, pounding on red-hot metal, changing it into a new shape. The metal had no choice in the matter. The blacksmith was like fate and the metal became something new.

All she thought about in those few moments that would change her life forever, was the joy of being sexually sated again after a long hiatus from such joy, and the pride that she had helped one man who had somehow gone astray, back on the beaten path of normalcy. She eagerly anticipated healing another man, who she also liked. As Bob got off of her the candle light illuminated what he had left in her, oozing out of the lips in her dark nest. Rex was eager and hurried between her legs, but she put a hand up to slow him.

“Kiss me first,” she panted.

Rex had kissed exactly one female in his life. Her name had been Cynthia and it had been behind a tree at a box supper sponsored by the church in town. He hadn’t had any money to bid on a lunch a woman had prepared and boxed up. All he could do was watch as the boxes were auctioned off to other men, who went off with the woman who made the lunch, to eat it on a blanket spread on the church lawn. Cynthia had been too young to make a box, according to her mother, so all she could do was watch, too. When she saw Rex, who she had been in school with for one year before he stopped coming, she pulled him behind a tree and kissed him. Then she had run away.

This woman wasn’t going to run away. She couldn’t run away. And she wanted him to kiss her.

He learned how much like Bob had learned how as their lips rubbed against each other. Slowly, he eased his weight down on top of her while they kissed. She didn’t push him back, or off. He felt her hot breasts on his chest and he felt a drip of something soothing come through his dick.

“Do you like this?” she asked.

“Yes, Ma’am, I do,” he answered.

“You can call me Maddie,” she said.

“Maddie, I like this a lot,” he said.

“Then we must keep doing it,” she said.

Her arms went around him and smoothed over his muscled back. By accident they opened their mouths to snatch a breath and Rex felt her lips on his teeth. By instinct he licked her lips and the tip of his tongue slid between her upper and lower teeth. Her tongue pushed forward, perhaps as an instinctive attempt to force the intruding thing out, but their tongues slipped over and around each other like eels mating. Completely by accident, they had learned how to kiss like the French kissed.

Those kisses were even more passionate and instinct continued to aid them as Rex unconsciously began to hump. He moved up a smidgeon and, without warning his penis entered her. It had been perfectly aligned with her sexual tunnel and, again by accident, slithered into her.

Rex was smaller in diameter than Bob, but a little longer, and his cock was bent for some reason. It slid into her like a hand slides into a broken-in glove. He obeyed the urge to push, once he realized he was in her, until, like Bob, his balls landed gently on her ass.

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