The Homested

Southern Wyoming was a forsaken place in 1842. A few small homesteads, with houses made of hand hewn logs with dirt floors, seemed strewn erratically through the land. Desperate farmers tried to cut out a meager life for themselves from working the dry, barren land. Tom Garner was one of those men. He stood 5 foot 7 and weighed in at around 160 pounds. Not a big man by any standard, but strong as an ox he was. Now, at age thirty-four, he had been working this land for about 7 years. In that time, he built his small one room home, a three-sided makeshift barn, and, of course, the outhouse. His land sat in a little valley about 19 miles east of the small town of Hanna. It was a good day's ride to town, so Tom did not make the trip often. Rising hillsides, covered with scrub oak and small stands of poplars, surrounded his home. His main meat source was deer and an occasional elk, if he was lucky. Vegetables were grown in the small garden he had scratched out of the dusty earth. He raised a single cow, a sturdy old plow horse, and had a few chickens that ran freely through the arid farm. The closest water source was a small lake some distance away.

The lake, which was surrounded by a rocky shoreline, had trees on one side that crept sparsely down to the clear waters of the hidden lake's edge. Tom would hitch his water wagon up to his old mare, travel down to the water's edge, and hand pump water into the large container on the wagon. It was a full day getting there and back with his load. His captured water was used sparingly to drink, bathe, and water the animals and vegetables in the garden. It had become a weekly trip.

About two years ago, Tom met a woman over in Hanna. Emma was a beautiful girl, in her twenties and single. She stood another two inches taller than Tom. Her dark hair curled beyond her shoulders and bounced about her back. Brown eyes smiled at you when she talked. She was trim, with a full bust that formed an intoxicating cleavage at her neckline. Tom fell in love with her immediately. Although Hanna was a day's ride from his farm, he made the trip just to see her several times. He finally asked her to marry him, which she happily accepted. A small ceremony was quietly done by the local sheriff.

Now, Emma often made the water trip with him. Once there, she liked to hike to the far side of the little lake and bathe in the cool crystal clear water near the trees, while Tom was busy filling the wagon. After Tom finished the chore, he would too dive in and rinse the dust and sweat from himself. The two of them would share a late lunch before heading back home.

On one their water days, the scorching hot sun made the dusty trip to the lake miserable. Tom and Emma could hardly wait to refresh themselves in the cool water. Once there, Tom unhooked the mare from the wagon and led her to the water to drink. Emma grabbed a blanket and her homemade bar of lye and lavender soap from the wagon, then followed the path around to the lake's edge on the far side. She knew Tom would be busy for at least an hour. This was her time to get cleaned up and relax.

She picked the same spot she always went to. The rocks made a natural staircase into the crystal clear water. A fallen tree lay into the water, making a natural place to hang her clothes. After dropping the small blanket to the ground, she stripped down to her camisole and petticoat, placed her shoes and dress on the trunk of a fallen tree, and then waded into the cold water. When she was waist deep, she stripped off her remaining garments and laid them over a nearby branch of the tree. Walking out further, she waded till her breasts floated in the coolness, causing her rosy nipples to stiffen into hard crinkled nubs. She could see her feet through the clear water. Her dark patch of pubic hair stood out against the whiteness of her skin. She began to wash herself.

Matt Crowley was a drifter, never staying in one place for more than a month or so. He worked odd jobs, usually as a helping hand, then would move on when he got tired of a place. Some said that he was a hired gun. Others saw him as just a wanderer, offering no harm to others.

He had been traveling north from Colorado when he heard the whinny of a horse. Cautiously, he slid from the saddle and tied the reins to a branch of a long dead tree. He carefully drew his revolver, then slowly made his way up the hill towards the horse's sound.

Arriving at the top of the hill, he looked down and saw a man pumping water into a wagon on the far side of the lake. The man's horse was tied on a long lead to a tree near the water's edge. Matt searched around the man for a gun, but saw none.

"Where the Hell he come from?" flashed through Matt's head. "There ain't no town nowhere nears here."

He squatted down behind a rock and watched the far side of the small lake. A moment later, he heard a splashing sound closer to him. Unable to see where it came from, he slowly moved down the hill, hiding behind the few trees and large rocks.

"Holy damn!" he whispered to himself, seeing the naked woman washing herself in the crystal clear water. Her back was towards him. The long dark hair, wet from the lake, clung to her shoulders and back. As his eyes drifted downward on her body, he saw her small waistline widen to her soft round butt. The water rippled, making it look like she was shaking her beautiful ass.

"Fuck! Who are they?" questioning himself. Matt glanced up to see that the man pumping water was still busy and looked back down below him.

The woman had turned, reaching for her undergarments. A firm breast raised from the water, a hard nipple jutting out.

Matt felt the swelling in his trousers. "NO!" his panicked mind screamed. "Don't get dressed!"

The woman lowered the garments into the water, scrubbed at the dusty soiled items, and then returned them to the branch to dry. She turned, facing squarely towards Matt. Her large round breasts hung slightly out of the water, both nipples stiff from the coldness.

Matt gulped. He could see a dark patch of hair just under the water.

With soap in hand, she reached between her legs and ran her hands up her inner thighs, washing the smooth white flesh. Then her fingers slipped into the folds of her womanhood, cleansing herself in the clear water. Her hands traveled around her hips, spreading her butt cheeks and washed between them. She dunked down and scrubbed at her armpits and breasts, rinsed her body of all the soap, then stood.

Matt stared at the sight in front of him as she carefully walked out of the water. His heart raced as she walked toward him.

When she had reached the blanket, she dropped to her knees, and laid on the blanket face down, allowing the hot sun dry her.

Matt could feel the stiffness in his pants growing. He forced his eyes away from her, looking across the lake toward the wagon.

Panic suddenly shot through him. "Oh, shit!...FUCK!" he said to himself. "Where'd he fucking go?" He looked all around the wagon's area, then over toward the old horse. Nothing. Finally, he saw the man walking along the path, right below him, towards where the woman had just bathed. He ducked down further behind the rock, so as not to be spotted.

"Hi, Em," the man called out.

Emma, slightly startled, "Hi. You all done? Ready for some lunch?"

"We are all loaded. I am just going to take a quick dip," as he turned toward the water's edge.

Emma and Matt both watched as Tom kicked off his boots and dropped his clothes. He then walked several feet into the lake and dove into the water, swimming toward the middle.

"Ah, that feels so good!" he yelled back to his wife.

He swam around a bit and then headed back to the shallow water. Chest deep, he scrubbed his hands all over his body, cleaning the hard day's soil from it. Then, he walked back up towards the shore.

Matt stared at the man's penis.

"Damn!" he thought to himself. "For a little guy, he's is fucking hung like a horse!"

Tom walked towards Emma, his seven inch soft cock rocking side to side in front of him. Sitting down next to Emma, he placed a cool hand on the middle of her back. Her skin was hot from the afternoon sun. The coolness of his hand felt good to her and she told him so.

Matt silently watched as the man began lightly stroking up and down her back. When the man ran his hand down further, caressing at the roundness of her ass, Matt felt that undeniable urge between his legs.

He continued watching as the man below slipped his fingers between her legs. She instinctively spread her legs wider for him, as his fingers slid up and down her wet folds. Soft moans escaped from her. The man began to slowly probe two fingers in and out of her wetness. Her hips arched high to meet his fingers as he pressed them into her.

Matt watched as the man lowered his head to the woman's exposed ass and drew a deep breath.

He heard the man's voice. "Oh, Emma, you smell so good." Tom then pulled at her hips and burried his face between the soft orbs of her ass. His mouth found the object of his desire, and he pushed his tongue into her vagina, tasting the musky dew.

"Oh, God!" she exclaimed, pushing back against the invading tongue.

When Tom pulled back, she wimpered. But, then she felt the slickness of his tongue travel forward, frantically licking at her swollen clit.

Matt's head was reeling. Wild thoughts ran through his mind. The man had no gun. He could go down there and hold him at gunpoint and fuck his woman. Hell! He could just kill him and then hold the gun to her head and make her suck him...and then fuck her! It was then that Matt realized he still had the revolver in his hand. His hand was shaking with excitement. He brought the gun up. Resting it over the rock, he aimed at the man below.

Just then, Tom moved his body between Emmy's legs. He lifted at her hips and drug her knees up under her. Tom's cock was now hard. It appeared to be a full 10 inch length and swelled thick with desire. Matt froze at the sight below him, hardly able to catch a breath.

The woman's voice seemed to burn at Matt's ears when he heard her say, "Fuck me, Tom. Fuck me with that huge cock of yours!"

"Damn! He could kill her with that fucking thing!" he thought. He lowered his revolver to the ground and unbuttoned the front of his trousers, releasing his swollen penis. Matt stroked himself as the man below ran the head of his cock up and down the lips of the woman's gaping pussy. Matt watched as the man placed the swollen head at her wet channel and pushed lightly against it. Matt stroked his hard cock as the man pushed harder, stretching her swollen lips around the big cock as he entered the wet hotness. The loud groans now coming from her were a combination of pain and pleasure.

Matt's imagination could feel her pussy lips stretching around his own penis, sliding up and down its length like a tight glove. He closed his eyes and gripped more tightly on himself, imagining his hard cock expanding her pussy like the man did below. The uncircumcised skin of his penis slipped up and down his shaft as he stroked faster and harder.

He opened his eyes just in time to watch the man slide the full length of his cock into the woman below. As the man's cock withdrew, it pulled at her vagina, the inner walls wrapped tightly to his thick shaft. Then he plunged back in, burying his massive cock back into her. Holding her hips, the man began pounding in and out of her furiously. His cock glistened with her wetness in the sunlight. She raised herself up with her arms, her elbows now resting on the ground. With each thrust her breasts flew forward then back, bouncing harshly against her.

Grunts of pleasure came from both of them. Soon, her body buckled as a climax tore through her body. "Ah, FUCK!" she yelled. Loud screams of pleasure bolted from her as her body quaked from a rolling orgasm. "FUCK ME!!!"

The man below held tightly to her hips, punishing her with his huge cock, relentlessly pounding in and out of her sodden pussy. Both were now dripping in sweat from the heat of their passion. Matt could hear the slapping sounds of their sex and couldn't take any more.

He felt the burning in his thighs as visions of himself fucked the wanton woman below as she screamed out in pleasure.

Matt's balls pulled tight and achingly begun to push semen up the shaft of his cock. He shakenly rolled to his side and ejaculated stream after stream of cum onto the ground beside him as he imagined himself fucking the woman below.

He finally looked back to see the man below him pull his massive cock from the woman's sopping vagina and shoot a thick stream of cum across her back. The man held his cock tightly as another stream surged out and shot between the cheeks of her ass, dripping back down through the folds of her now open pussy.

Matt continued stroking his cock feverously and semen flew uncontrollably out of him. He watched as the man below him fell onto the back of the woman, causing both of their spent bodies to collapse onto the blanket.

Quietly gasping for air, Matt shakenly reached down to fasten his trousers. His cock was still leaking cum as he tucked it in. He looked down to where he had just cum.

"FUCK!!" his mind roared. "I should have shot the bastard!!!" His cum covered revolver lay on the ground beside him. He delicately picked it up, wiped it on his trousers leg, and dropped the slimy pistol into his holster.

"Yup. I shoulda killed the bastard... and fucked her!" he thought to himself. He quietly made his way back up the hill and to his horse. Changing directions, he slowly rode away.

Tom and Emma got up and took a short dip in the lake, caressing each other lovingly and rinsing each other's bodies in the cool water. Afterward, they dressed and hiked back to the wagon. They ate a small lunch and headed home.

They loved their secluded life.