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"OK, I can laugh at a joke played on me, but I hope that I never run into another one like that. "Lieutenant, that sort of thing is just too hard on my heart for me to be completely amused by the joke." He did have the grace to look embarrassed.The men had the trail cleaned up of dead bodies before dark, so we moved just beyond the valley to make camp for the night. I supposed that it was a kind of apology, but Sgt. Brown had one of the men fix supper for me. To tell the truth, I really appreciated the gesture because I was still shaking from my scare. The problem was that I could imagine what the Comanches would have done to me if they had caught me still alive, and I have a very vivid imagination!We returned to the fort, though the trip took two days. Frankly, I could hardly wait to get home. I really needed to see and be reassured by my family. The evening of the day we got home, Sally took me to the veranda to sit while Jane cleaned up after supper. "John, we need ta talk. What do. As she sat on the edge of the wide bed, Mary allowed the hem of her dress to hike well up her thighs and liked the way Emily stared; then the girl was sitting beside her, making sure that she, too, displayed her lush young thighs.Mary slipped an arm around the slim-waisted girl, then began talking about how lucky they both were to be females. To her delighted surprise, Emily discovered that she could carry on a conversation despite her wild arousal and her eagerness to see and feel Mary's naked body, and do other exciting things with her, the kind of things Mary did with her daughter.After a little while, Mary opened the top button of her dress to show more of the cleavage of her lush boobs, then took the first tentative step as a hand went to one of Emily's firm thighs and squeezed gently."You have lovely thighs, dear," Mary said and her hand moved a little higher. "Do you mind my feeling your thigh like this?" Oh no, it feels nice," Emily told her, not trying to hide her excitement..
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‘Caron? What did I do? What do I do now?’ He felt his wife’s love wash over him, saw her, saw the concern in her face, the compassion in her eyes. He thought back to the dance studio. He’d seen Denise, his friend, being… what? Betrayed? ‘Not really,’ his inner self told him. He opened his eyes again. He knew he’d over-reacted. Maybe that was it, but then again… Tom was already, still was actually, after another — after Pamela — while at the same time apparently courting Denise. Stan tried to analyse his feelings. Was that jealousy he’d felt? What did he have to be jealous of? ‘Nothing. Nothing at all,’ he told himself. ‘Denise was only a friend, wasn’t she… Wasn’t she?’ No! No, she wasn’t ‘just a friend’ at all, he realized. Denise was much more than that to him. Stan wasn’t jealous of her ability and right to befriend another, but he’d felt protective towards her. ‘Now what?!’ ‘Now you have to put that firmly to one side, and concentrate on winning Anne over,’ he thought. ‘Anne was.

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