*Author's Note: Any and all persons engaging in any sexual activity are at least eighteen years of age.
*Disclaimers: This story has been edited by myself, utilizing Microsoft Spell-Check. You have been forewarned; expect to find mistakes.
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On March 14th 2023, JustPlainBob posted 'Homesteader' in the Loving Wives category. It was a short Western yarn and put me in the mood to write a Western tale of my own. A tip of the hat to one of my favorite writers on this site.
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Zeke Larsen rode Blackie along the creek; he'd seen fresh wolf tracks the other day. An overnight rainstorm had passed through; Zeke wanted to see if he could find more tracks and follow the tracks to where the wolf or wolves were holed up. With five calves just born and two foals, they certainly did not need wolves wandering around.
Zeke saw the small dot while it was still a few miles away. Slowly, the dot drew near. Zeke could see it was a solitary wagon, a 'Prairie Schooner' or covered wagon. Zeke made sure his Henry was near at hand; solitary wagons on this stretch of Nebraska land was unusual. Most wagons joined up with other wagons, forming a train of wagons traveling west.
When the wagon was still a few miles away, Zeke could see two sickly horses struggling mightily to pull the cumbersome wagon. The overnight rainstorm had made the trail a sea of mud and the horses were floundering to pull their load.
When it was a few hundred yards away, one of the horses went down. Zeke watched the solitary figure on the bench of the wagon flailing his whip at the hapless beast.
"Hold off there, friend," Zeke snapped, trotting up. "Horse won't be of no use if you flog it to death."
"Blast this horse, and blast you, stranger," the surly man snarled.
"Man's just telling you what I been telling you," a harsh voice shrilled from inside the wagon.
"Annie, I had 'bout all I'm going take, hear?" the man yelled into the wagon.
Zeke had thought to invite this traveler to pull off the trail and follow him to his home just beyond the scrub of trees. The weary man looked as if a good meal and a good night's rest would do him some good. And, his two horses looked as if they could do with some good oats and alfalfa and a rest from pulling the unwieldy load on the difficult path.
"What would my Agnes have me do?" Zeke wondered aloud as the man and his companion continued to bicker at one another.
"Friend," Zeke said in a voice loud enough to carry over their shrill words. "My home is just beyond those trees to the north. Perhaps you'd care to follow me; we'll put you and your missus up for the night and give these beasts a well-deserved rest?"
"We'd be mighty obliged Mister," the woman answered from the depths of the wagon.
Wincing as he sank in the mud, Zeke helped the stranger hoist the panting horse to its feet. Then Zeke hitched Blackie to the wagon and Blackie and the other horse pulled the wagon free and onto the path leading to the Larsen homestead. Zeke walked alongside the wagon, leading the stranger's still panting horse.
Agnes came out onto the porch as Zeke and the wagon approached the home. Zeke smiled upon seeing his wife; her long red hair hung loosely to her ankles and her compact figure was dwarfed in her simple dress. She was five feet to Zeke's six feet, two inches. And when they lay unclothed in their bed, Zeke could put his two hands around her slim waist.
"Just like a boy; see you was playing in the mud again," Agnes quipped when Zeke approached.
"They got stuck on the trail," Zeke smiled and bent and kissed her.
Zeke helped Joseph Turner with his horses and Agnes Larsen took Annie Turner into the house to freshen up, and to assist with the noon meal.
When Zeke and Joseph entered the home after changing out of their filthy clothes into clean trousers and shirts, Zeke got his first look at Annie Turner. She was the same height as Agnes, and had long straw colored hair. When she turned to greet her husband, Zeke saw she had a beautiful face with clear blue eyes, a slim nose and pouting lips.
Her bosom stretched the bodice of her dress and her hips also stretched the material of her simple, threadbare dress.
"Did you think to bring me a clean dress?" Annie greeted her husband.
"No. You weren't out there caring for our horses; you ain't got no dirt on you," Joseph snapped.
"I had to borrow a dress from our gracious hostess," Annie snapped.
"That explains why it's so tight about her form," Zeke thought, unable to tear his eyes from the woman's large chest.
To Zeke and Agnes, Annie was civil, if not a little aloof. Joseph was barely civil, only grunting when asked questions. To one another, though, Annie and Joseph were hostile, hurling invectives and insults at one another.
"Well, do fetch me my nightdress," Annie snapped as they again sat for the evening meal.
"Your clothes are on the back porch; they should be dry by sun up," Agnes told Joseph and Annie.
"And the sooner they leave, the better," Agnes whispered to Zeke as they lay in their bed.
"Agreed," Zeke said.
He caused her to squeal then giggle when he pulled her slim body atop his. Playfully, he swatted her small rump with his large hand.
"And if you were to talk to me the way she talks to him?" Zeke whispered, delivering a second swat. "We would find ourselves in the woodshed."
"You wouldn't!" Agnes gasped and giggled.
"Oh, yes my lady, I sure would," Zeke assured her. "That I can promise you."
"Zeke! Ezekiel Ambrose Larsen!" Agnes gasped and giggled as he hoisted the hem of her nightdress up over her slim legs.
"And wouldn't have you having your clothes between you and my switch," Zeke said, now giving her bared posterior a light slap.
"Oh! Oh how scandalous! How very, very scandalous!" Agnes gasped out then pressed her lips to his in a hungry kiss.
They made love, her riding astride him. When he approached his climax, Zeke rolled her onto her back and pounded his manhood into her. Agnes pulled his corn husk pillow over her face to muffle her screams of pleasure as her husband's seed flooded her split.
"I still praise God for the day he put you into my life," Zeke told her as they drifted off to sleep.
"I give Him thanks and praise, my darling husband," Agnes murmured.
Zeke watched as Joseph pulled Blackie out of the stall and hitched the stallion to the wagon. Joseph then selected another fine stallion, this one a chestnut that was just four years old.
Believe you got the wrong horses there, Mister Turner," Zeke said amiably.
"I uh, oh! Oh hey, I sure do," Joseph said, swallowing nervously as he saw Zeke's twelve gauge double barreled shotgun in Zeke's grasp. "They uh, you know how it is; they all look the same in the dark."
"Mm hmm and if you recall, we put your beasts into the last two stalls there," Zeke said calmly, nodding with his head toward the two sorry looking Turner nags.
"Huh? Oh, oh that's right," we sure enough did," Joseph said.
"So, if you would be so kind, please put Blackie and Achilles back into their stalls," Zeke said, voice growing hard. "Then get your own and be on your way."
While Zeke watched Joseph hook up his own warn and withered nags to his wagon, Agnes was carefully counting their silverware to make sure Joseph and Annie had not thought to take their finery with them.
"Now, you and your wife be on your way," Zeke ordered as Joseph wheeled the wagon due south.
Agnes roused the lightly snoring Annie Turner and ordered the befuddled woman from their fine Christian home. Annie stumbled out of the bed and sleepily walked to the porch where Zeke and Joseph waited.
"Joe, what? Why you already up; ain't even dawn yet," Annie sleepily demanded, staggering onto the front porch of the Larsen home.
Zeke told Annie what he'd witnessed. Annie's eyes opened wide and she stared at her husband. Then her pretty face took on a hard cast.
"You, you was fixing leave me," Annie growled at her husband. "You no-good, sorry...you was just fixing up and leave me here."
"Ain't been a minute of rest since leaving Myndee," Joseph spat bitterly. "'should've stood in Arkansas,' 'should've listened to my Daddy,' 'You ain't never going 'mount to nothing,' you damned right I was fixing up and leave your spoiled hide behind."
"Good then!" Annie screamed, shoving her husband forcefully. "Then be off with you!"
Zeke and Agnes watched as Joseph stomped to the rear of the wagon and pulled a large ornately painted wooden trunk from the wagon. Unceremoniously, he dumped the trunk onto the ground. With a spit of tobacco in Annie's direction, Joseph hoisted himself into the seat of the wagon and yelled for his horses to pull.
Zeke and Agnes looked at one another. Then, Zeke hoisted the trunk onto his shoulder and carried it into the house.
"Well now, Missus Larsen, looks like you got yourself a maid, just like them big city women in their big fancy houses," Zeke joked.
"Come now, Annie, its but twenty after two," Agnes said gently to the blonde woman.
"That no account mongrel!" Zeke suddenly realized. "He, took my tobacco!"
"Good; you don't need it," Agnes said, crawling back into their bed.