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"So, girls," Karen began with her usual aura of mischief, "What do we think little Kieran would be like as a lay?"
"Karen!" Mary-Beth scolded, cheeks already blooming with embarrassment. Tilly and Sadie looked meaningfully towards the newest member to join the women's ranks, a woman they'd picked up not long after saving Sadie.
"What are you looking at me for?" The woman quirked her eyebrows up and glanced over to where Kieran was brushing down the horses for the day ahead.
"Well you're the one who's always talking to him," Sadie reasoned with a casual shrug.
"Yeah," the woman agreed, "About horses. I just like horses and so does he, ain't nothin' untoward about it."
"If you say so," Karen held her palms out and bowed her head with a smirk.
"I'm serious," the woman replied before being cut off by Sadie.
"The boy would be a no-good lay anyway." The women's eyes turned to Sadie, awaiting some kind of elaboration, "He's too shy and nervous, prolly wouldn't even know where to put it."
There was some laughter at that, most of it from Karen, while Mary-Beth looked more wistful. Their newest member wondered if maybe Mary-Beth, ever the romantic, had grown sweet on the ex-O'Driscoll boy. Taking pity, she steered the topic away from Kieran-centric mockery.
"Anyway, who do y'all think would be good for a tumble?"
"You lookin' for recommendations, new girl?" Karen chuckled, the others tittering with giddy smiles and laughs of their own.
"Don't tell me anything I shouldn't know," the woman replied, "Just curious about y'all's thoughts."
She was mostly curious to see if one particular name came up, though she wasn't sure if she'd be happy or sad if it did.
"You know," Tilly spoke up, leaning forward in their little huddle and quickly glancing around camp to ensure she wasn't overheard, "I always thought that Javier would be a great lover."
A mixed chorus of wistful sighs - from Mary-Beth - and beleaguered groans - from Sadie - broke out at the mention of Javier.
"That shameless poncy flirt?" Sadie scoffed, "He'd be far too interested in checking out his own reflection to please a woman."
"Well who would you pick, then?" Tilly prompted, still smiling despite Sadie's choice words about her selection. Sadie seemed to ponder the question for a moment, scanning camp like she was perusing a catalogue.
"Arthur, I guess."
"You guess?" Abigail asked, clearly becoming more invested in the conversation now that Sadie had surprised everyone with an answer.
"He's a good man. Nice face, solid aim, trustworthy. Sure, he's dumb as rocks, but a body like that can make up for a lot." The giddy chuckling broke out again and all the women turned their heads towards where Arthur was downing the last of his morning coffee across camp. Almost all the women, anyway. Their newest member was looking past Arthur towards where Charles was feeding Taima.
Charles was a good man. His face was much more than nice, plump lips, a broad nose, and rich, dark eyes made him look regal. He was a lethal shot and she knew she could trust him with her life. And, unlike Arthur, he had a good head on his shoulders. She'd only been with the group for a few months, but it was already clear as day to her that Charles was the most intelligent person in camp. His positive attributes were so plentiful it almost didn't bear mentioning his body.
But it absolutely did bear mentioning.
A fraction shorter than Arthur still put him taller than almost all the other men in camp, and a solid head and shoulders over all of the women. The broadness of his nose seemed to extend to his shoulders, his chest, his arms, even his muscled, rounded stomach was expansive. His thighs were like tree trunks and she'd seen enough of him from the back to know his rear was equally magnificent.
Is it possible he was the best man here and these women weren't even going to mention him?
"What about you, Karen?" She turned the conversation back to it's originator.
"I won't be borin' and say Sean, much as I enjoy that pain in the backside. I've always had an eye for Hosea myself."
"Really?" Tilly's shock was clear as day on her sweet face.
"Oh yeah!" Karen enthused, "Give me a man with experience any day."
"I see it," Abigail agreed. The group turned to her, clearly waiting for her thoughts on the men at camp. After a moment, she sighed, "I guess it would be too easy to say John, wouldn't it. Plus, that bastard's a no-good boy who's lucky to have ever made it into my bed in the first place. Honestly, I'm so done with men of any kind right now, I haven't really put much thought into it."
It seemed like the mood had come down a little with Abigail's mention of John's shortcomings. Thankfully, she made quick moves to repair the damage, turning to the new woman in camp.
"So, what about you? Any of our men stood out to you yet?" The women all turned with great interest to their newest member, eager to hear something juicy.
"Well," she began, "There might be someone who's caught my eye, so to speak."
"Who?" Mary-Beth and Tilly spoke in unison, practically bouncing with excitement.
"Please don't tell me it's Javier after what I just said about him," Sadie said, her face cringing in preparation for a stern talking-to. Instead, the newcomer laughed and shook her head.
"It's not, don't worry." She watched as Sadie sighed in relief and wiped her forehead of imaginary perspiration. "Actually, it's Charles."
"Charles?!" Karen gasped, "Our Charles?"
"Keep your voice down," Abigail prodded Karen's leg with her boot, causing the women to sneak less-than-subtle glances at the man in question as he headed over to the firewood and picked up his axe. The new woman could barely tear her eyes away from his powerful swings when Karen continued her train of thought.
"Charles is just so...quiet," she muttered, "I'd hardly know what to say to him."
Tilly hummed in agreement, "He ain't much for talkin', but he's a good man."
"Certainly," Sadie nodded, "Not sure how he'd perform though. Seems awful shy, if you ask me."
"Perhaps being shy makes him more attentive," Mary-Beth postulated. The women fell into debates over which traits combine to make the ideal lover, and which of those traits Charles Smith did or did not possess.
The newest member to their camp couldn't help but smile. She didn't have the heart to tell them that she'd already experienced nigh on all of Charles' traits numerous times and had yet to find a single flaw.
She looked over to see Charles tacking up her horse for the day. He caught her eye and made a microscopic movement with his lips that she knew to be a smile, just for her. A subtle jerk of his head was enough for her to understand it was time to slip away for a ride with her sweetheart. She could leave the others to their guessing games and lesser men.
Charles Smith was hers. And she couldn't wait to have him again.
“I love being out here with you like this,” Charles murmured, his hands caressing her waist as he leaned his back against the sturdy tree trunk behind him. She perched on his lap, skirts fanned out over her legs strategically obscuring their tryst from view.
Not that anyone could see them here. The hill overlooking Bard’s Crossing railway bridge was one of Charles’ favorite spots precisely for its isolation. The view was beautiful, a wide expanse of sky above and the cavernous mouth of the Dakota River below. He couldn’t ask for a more scenic spot to bury himself in his lover.
“I bet you do, Mr Smith,” she replied, a sultry smile playing on her red-stained lips. Charles gripped her firmly in place and pushed one forceful thrust into her, enough to make her gasp and cling to his shoulders to keep steady.
“You know I don’t like it when you call me that,” he grumbled. He loosened his grip and let her go back to warming his cock more comfortably, though if the way her eyes had rolled back was anything to go by, that’s probably not what she wanted. She brought her hands to his face, lightly brushing his bottom lip with one thumb.
“Sorry, baby,” she cooed. Charles noticed her eyes were hooded, the embers of her desire burning steadily in their depths.
“Better,” he replied, nodding a little and almost letting his lips curl into a smile at the corners. The smallest twitch from his mouth was enough to get her smiling and shifting atop him, squeezing him snugly within her walls as she did. Charles felt his jaw clench in response and moved his grip to her hips to keep her still. He wasn’t going to give her what she wanted that easily.
“Hmm,” she mused, “How about ‘handsome’?”
“S’alright,” Charles shrugged. Truthfully, he felt his heart seize a little any time she told him how handsome he was, but right now he wanted something specific.
“What if I call you darlin’?” Her voice took on a dreamy quality as she leaned forward to plant a kiss to one side of his mouth. She tried to grind into him again, making a small frustrated noise when he kept her still once more.
“I can think of another ‘d’ word you can call me,” he whispered in a husky voice, bringing one hand to the back of her head to clutch her close. He didn’t miss the way her core clenched tightly around him at the suggestion. She leaned back as much as he’d let her, putting on her best scandalized face.
“Charles,” she gasped, “I didn’t peg you for that kind of man.”
“Feels to me like you don’t mind.” He thrust into her once more, smiling smugly when her head dropped back and her mouth hung open, her hands clutching at the fabric of his shirt.
“Do that again,” she whispered, pulling him by the shirt, “please.”
“Please, what?” Charles leaned forward, holding her rear to keep her still while he kissed her neck. She let out a small whine and he felt her pulse around him again. Right where he wanted her.
“Please, Charles, please do that again.” She sounded almost breathless. Adorable.
“Please, what?” Another firm thrust had her calling out to the sky, eyes squeezed shut and jaw hanging slack.
“Please, daddy,” she whimpered, clenching so tightly around him.
“Fuck, that feels so good, bunny,” Charles groaned, giving her the thrust she wanted, “You’re such a good girl.”
She mewled in response, her pussy gripping him like a vise. It was everything Charles could do to keep himself from rutting into her like a wild animal. He let himself have a few uncontrolled thrusts, relishing in the way her head lolled around with the force of it.
“You like that, sweetheart?” he murmured against her neck, licking and nibbling and wishing he’d taken her blouse off, “You like being my good girl?”
“Yes, daddy,” she breathed, practically suffocating his cock at this point. He lifted her off of him just slightly by the hips before slamming her back down, planting his feet on the ground for more leverage in his thrust. “Oh, god!”
“That’s it,” he said encouragingly, caressing her face with one hand while he continued with shallower, faster thrusts, “Is that good for you, bunny?”
“So good, Charles,” she panted, “So, so good. You’re so big.”
“Fuck.” Charles knew he was about to lose this little powertrip game of theirs if she kept this up. He liked to think he was above the usual small-minded obsessions of the other men he’d known in his life. He was humble, he didn’t let ego or pride ruin his chances of success. But he was still just a man. And there was something about having a beautiful woman on his cock singing its praises that turned him simple and weak. He couldn’t help but ask for more, “Do you like it?”
“I love it, Charles.” She was scratching the sides of his neck and nibbling on her bottom lip with her perfect white teeth, lucidity a distant memory, “So big… so thick. I love how you get so deep.”
Oh yeah, that hit the spot. He bent his legs to plant his feet firmly on the ground and drive himself into her as deep as he could go, holding her still at the apex of each thrust to grind in just that little bit further.
"Yes, Charles, just like that, please," she sang so prettily for him. He watched her eyes fixate on the way his biceps strained against the fabric of his shirt as he bounced her on his lap. She reached out to brace herself on the bulging muscles, squeezing with her hands and her cunt and making him see stars. "You're so strong, daddy."
"For you," he grunted between thrusts, "Gotta be strong to protect you. Keep you safe. Make you feel good."
"Yes," she moaned breathily, digging her nails into his shirt over the breadth of his arms.
"Would you like that, bunny? If I took care of you? Kept you safe?" Charles asked. He'd seen her skin a raccoon in three minutes and shoot an O'Driscoll between the eyes without flinching, but some delicate part of his ego demanded he ask. The whimper that fell from her lips suggested she liked the question too.
"Yes, Charles," she used her firm grip to start bouncing faster, "You already take care of me, daddy. I feel so safe with you."
"Good," Charles grunted, "That's so good."
For several minutes, the pair made little noise beyond gasping, moaning, and panting into each other's mouths and necks. Their pace quickened to the point that their actions would be obvious to anyone on a passing train, but thankfully the tracks were quiet.
"Charles," she sighed, her thighs starting to shake and her head falling back, "Charles, I'm so close."
"Me too," he grunted, "Where do you want me?"
"You know where I want you," she gasped, starting to twitch around his cock with the tremors.
"Sweetheart, you know I can't-"
"Please, daddy, I know you want to." She found some strength to bounce harder and faster, testing his resilience, "Come inside me. Fill me up, please. Please, I wanna feel so full with you."
"Fuck." He was getting a lot closer. His grip on her became stifling, hurling her up and down his length as she cried out with passion. "Fuck, fuck, fuck, you're perfect. You're perfect, bunny."
Charles held her on him as long as he possibly could, just about managing to wrench her dripping core away from him before spurting out his own release on their thighs. He dropped his head against her shoulder, but she quickly moved away, slipping off his lap and flopping her back into the grassy knoll in a huff. After taking a second to compose himself, Charles crawled over to her, holding himself up on his hands and knees. He nuzzled into her neck with affectionate little kisses as she did her best to pretend she could ignore him.
"I'm sorry, bunny," he mumbled against her skin, "You know I can't."
"Why not?" She all but whined, her hands already working their way into the nape of his neck to work happy purrs out of him.
"I can't father a child in this backwards country, and definitely not in that rag-tag camp of ne'er-do-wells." He spoke with an authority that wouldn't be questioned, but kept his voice soft and gentle as he lightly licked and nibbled her neck. She hummed, angling her head to make room for his affections.
"So, if we lived somewhere else, and we weren't with the gang anymore, what would happen then?"
"I would fuck you as many times as it took for you to get my baby in your belly." She moaned in response to the earnestness of his reply, grasping for his arms. He kissed up the side of her neck, nipping her more and more as he got to her ear. "And I would take care of you, and keep you safe. And you'd be such a beautiful mother, and you'd make me into a real daddy."
"Daddy," her sigh was loaded and lustful, starting to shift and squirm beneath him, "Promise me you'll do it. Promise me we'll leave and go somewhere better together."
"I promise, bunny." He pressed a firm kiss to her lips that left no questions, "I promise when the time is right I'll take you far away from here and we'll never look back."
She pulled him back down to her lips, slipping a leg over his hip to try and tempt him just once more. He held fast, and later that day they rode back into camp with two longhorns and three rabbits. The men were happy to see so much meat. The women had moved on to discussing something else entirely.
The newest woman in camp looked over to Charles as he dismounted and flashed him a smile small enough to go unnoticed by anyone else. He returned the look and bowed his head at her with a little extra color in his cheeks.
Oh yes. Charles Smith was hers. And she was his.