Searching for Geronimo

The western frontier in the 1870's was not a welcoming place unless you enjoyed cactus, dust storms and long rides between stage coach stations. I was a sometimes journalist and sometimes dime novelist and I had come to the Arizona territory as a correspondent for the San Francisco Examiner to cover the search for the legendary Geronimo and his band of Chiracahua Apaches. I also hoped to get some ideas for the dime novels which I wrote when time permitted.

I was also taken by the fact that Geronimo, who's Apache name was Goyathlay or "One Who Yawns," had been named Geronimo by the Mexican soldiers who knew him well, although no one could give an exact reason why they named him so. Geronimo was the Spanish name for Jerome which was also my name, Jerome Baker.

My assignment was to go as expeditiously as possible to Ft. Bowie, east of Tucson, to report on the 5th Infantry commanded by General Nelson A. Myles as they hunted down Geronimo. Expeditiously meant by stage coach since they rolled day and night with stops only to change horses. I, like all the passengers, was allowed to bring along 25 pounds of luggage, two blankets and a canteen. The station stops were hurried affairs where passengers could grab a quick bite to eat. The menu was usually bread, coffee, cured meat and the frontier staple, beans.

The Butterfield Overland Stage Route - named for the owner and founder, John Butterfield, ran from San Francisco to St. Louis, skirting the Rocky Mountains via a southern route from San Francisco to Los Angeles, across southern Arizona and New Mexico into Texas before veering northeasterly toward St. Louis.

When we left San Francisco there were three passengers, myself plus two businessmen bound for Los Angeles. The journey south was pleasant enough. The weather was good and my two companions, both of them salesmen, had brought along whiskey and a deck of playing cards. We passed the time drinking, swapping stories and playing stud poker.

When I mentioned that I wrote dime novels one of them asked, "Any sex in those stories?"

"Depends on who's editing them but usually not."

My traveling companions left the stage in Los Angeles and while a new team of horses was being hitched the driver began pacing the floor and looking toward the door.

"Is there a problem?" I asked.

"We're waiting on a passenger, a K. Martin and if Mr. Martin don't get here pretty quick we're leavin' without him."

Just as we were about to leave the depot door swung open and a woman hurried in, followed by a man carrying two large valises.

The stagecoach driver looked at the man and said, "Are you K. Martin?"

"I am K. Martin," the woman replied.

"Well it's about time you got here Mrs. Martin we were fixin' to leave without you."

"Well, I'm certainly glad you didn't."

"Let's get a move on," the driver said, "we're already five minutes late."

We walked outside and climbed into the stagecoach while her luggage was put aboard. I held out my hand to her to help her into the coach. She took my hand and said, "Thank you very much."

"You're very welcome. Since we're going to be traveling together let me introduce myself. My name is Jerome Baker."

"Katherine Martin," she said, "but my friends call me Kitty."

"I'm pleased to meet you Miss Martin. It's not often one meets a person named for a cat and a bird. An interesting combination."

"So it is Mr. Baker, and it's Mrs. Martin."

"Where is Mr. Martin?"

"I'm a widow," she said, "my husband passed away recently and I'm on my own."

"Where are you going?"

"Fort Bowie."

"As am I," I said, "what takes you to Fort Bowie, other than the stagecoach?"

"I'm going to teach the children of the soldiers at the Fort. What takes you to Fort Bowie, other than the stagecoach?" she said with a laugh.

"I'm a reporter for the San Francisco Examiner. I'm going to report on the search for Geronimo and do research for the dime novels I write."

"How very interesting. I am familiar with the dime novels although I must confess that I'm not a reader of the genre."

"Not many women are."

"Tell me," she asked, "are your stories based on fact or are they entirely fictional."

"A bit of both."

She sat across from me and I gave her a visual assessment. She appeared to be about my age, 40ish with black hair, tightly coifed in a bun and slightly tinged with gray. She had a small face, bright blue eyes and a compact body. A rather shapely body from what I could see of it.

As we rode east we conversed about the usual things, where we were from, what we had done, etc. She was originally from Nebraska and had come west with her husband who had been a banker. He had died of a sudden stroke.

After an hour or two of conversation she yawned and said, "If you don't mind I think I'll try to take a nap. It's been a tiring day."

"Certainly," I said, "I may try to nap myself but first I think I'll catch up on my reading."

I reached into my small carry-on valise and pulled out a book.

"What are you reading?"

"The Adventures of Tom Sawyer by Mark Twain."

"Ah, Mr. Samuel Clemens," she said, "I have read some of his work. My husband and I both read Roughing It before we left Nebraska to come to California. Mr. Clemens has a lively style and good sense of humor."

"Indeed he does. He is one of my heroes," I said, "since we have similar backgrounds. We're both journalists and he's from Missouri and I am from Kansas."

She slept and I read and occasionally glanced at her. Needless to say I was delighted to have such delightful company on what promised to be a long and arduous journey to Arizona.

At our next stop she awoke and we grabbed a quick meal. It was dark when we resumed our journey. We had now reached the desert area between California and Arizona and when the sun went down so did the temperature so blankets for our laps seemed to be in order. The night was unusually cool and I suggested that we sit together for warmth. She moved to sit beside me. It was a clear and cloudless night which undoubtedly contributed to the coolness of our surroundings and the warmth we shared by sitting together was comforting.

About 10 p.m. she said, "I suppose we should try to get some sleep, although that may difficult on this stagecoach."

"I have some brandy, if that would help."

"Some brandy would be nice I suppose, although I'm not used to alcoholic beverages," she said.

I reached into my inside coat pocket and brought out my trusty flask. "Try some of this," I said.

She took a sip and then another and said, "That's warming and soothing."

"Just what the doctor ordered," I replied.

We talked and sipped and ere long had emptied the flask.

"I feel a bit tipsy," she said and turned her face toward me. I leaned to her and gave her a kiss and then another.

"This is nice," she said.

"I'm glad you approve," I said, "and now I suppose we should try to get some sleep."

"Alright,' she said, "good night Jerome."

"Goodnight, Kitty."

She moved across the coach to the other seat and, covering herself with her blanket, laid down. I stayed on my side of the coach and did the same.

As we continued our journey the second day we talked and read and the hours passed by rather delightfully under the circumstances. After the sun went down it again grew cool and without any suggestion on my part she moved over to snuggle close to me.

"About last night," she said.

"Yes?"

"I think I had a bit much to drink and I want to thank you for not taking advantage of me," she said.

"Thank you," I said, "I try to always be a gentleman although considering the charms of my companion it was difficult to maintain my demeanor."

"Thanks for the compliment," she said, "although I rather hoped you would be more forceful."

"Is that so?"

"Yes it is. I've not been with a man since my husband died and not many men before him. I'm afraid I'm not very good at seduction."

"Would you like to seduce me?"

"It's crossed my mind."

"Would you like some more brandy?"

"Indeed. Do you have any more?"

"Madame, your wish is my command," i said and, reaching into my valise, pulled out a bottle. I uncorked it and handed it to her. "Jerome Baker, intrepid reporter at your service," I said.

She took it and laughed and said, 'I hope you won't be reporting on this."

"Well I might incorporate it into one of my stories," I said, "of course I'll change the names to protect the innocent."

"I'd like to become not so innocent," she said.

"Duly noted."

We sipped the brandy and snuggled together. After a long period of silence I turned to her to give her a kiss and she responded by bringing her mouth ro mine. I kissed her warm, soft lips with a warm, soft kiss and she answered by opening her lips to my probing tongue.

"My goodness," she said, "I don't remember a sweeter kiss. Your are quite a kisser, Jerome."

"And you are delightful to kiss, Kitty."

I caressed her face and then moved my hand down to cup a small firm breast. She sighed and responded by dropping a hand to my cock which was delightfully firm and ready. She kissed me fervently and then she said, "I want you."

"I want you too although making love in a stage coach might be a problem."

"Oh darn," she said.

"Although I suppose we could do some heavy petting," I said.

"Heavy petting would be nice."

Given that encouragement I reached to unbutton the top of her dress. She helped and soon my eager hand dipped inside to fondle her breast through the fabric of her slip. She slipped her dress and slip off of her pale white shoulders to show me her upper treasures. Her breasts were small but perfectly formed, crowned by erect nipples which appeared to be slightly brown although it was difficult to discern through the dimness of the moonlight.

I tweaked her nipples with my fingers and she groaned. "May I suck them?" I asked.

"That would be nice."

I brought my eager mouth to an equally eager nipple and gave it a loving lick. She responded with a throaty "Umm."

I began to alternate from one breast to the other, varying from licks to nibbles with an occasional squeeze for the sake of variety.

"I want to touch your penis," she said.

"Your wish is my command," I said and unbuttoned my fly. I brought out my erect cock and she grasped it tentatively, touching first just the tip and than gripping it firmly. My pre-cum was flowing and she used it to lubricate her hand.

"You're nice and wet," she said.

"How about you?"

"Why don't you see for yourself."

I pulled up her dress and slowly moved my hand up her legs toward her nether treasures. She helped by spreading her legs as far apart as she could. Upon reaching my destination I could feel her randy dampness through her panties.

"It feels like you are also wet, my dear," I said and, taking a deep breath, I said "and it smells like it too."

"Do you find that smell offensive?"

"That depends upon the definition of offensive," I said. "The smell is delightful and definitely not offensive although it does inspire a man to become offensive, as in to seek and plunder."

"Well seek and plunder lunder away," she said.

"No further encouragement is needed," I said, "although you might assist me in breaching the defenses."

She laughed and responded by removing her panties and pulling up her dress around her waist.

I nodded approvingly and said, "Ah hah, virgin territory."

"Not exactly virgin," she said with a chuckle.

"Well it's virgin to me," I said, "and it's stupendous."

"Stupendous?"

"Stupendous pussy. Stupendous Kitty pussy, but I guess that sounds redundant," I said.

"Redundant or not I like the sound of it," she said.

"And I like the feel of it," I said, moving a finger down her nether lips to probe inside her wetness. She sighed approvingly as I delved and probed.

Grasping my cock she said, "And I don't suppose this is virgin territory either."

"Not exactly," I replied "but please be gentle nonetheless."

She laughed again and then sighed as I moved my fingers up to concentrate on her clitoris. I manipulated her little pearl while she concentrated on the head of my cock.

"We're pretty good at this," I said, "considering it's our first time together."

"Well, we've already established that neither of us is a virgin."

I caressed and she stroked and in short order I said, "I'm about to come."

"Me too."

We seemed to synchronize, both our hands and our voices.

"Yes, yes," she cried.

"Uh huh, uh huh," I responded.

"Yes, yes,"

"Uh huh, uh huh."

"Yes, yes,"

"Uh huh, uh huh."

"Yes, yes!"

"Uh huh, uh huh!"

She clenched and quivered and I erupted. We sighed and kissed deeply.

"That was exquisite," I said.

"Exactly."

"Now I think I'm ready to go to sleep," she said.

"Me too."

The next morning I awoke with her body slumped on mine. I stretched and smiled and my stirring woke her up. "Good morning love," she said.

"And good morning to you too love."

"Thank you for last night," she said.

"Thank you."

"We really need to take this to the next level," she said.

"Sounds good to me. We're due to arrive in Fort Bowie this afternoon. What are your sleeping arrangements for tonight?"

She smiled and said, "They're supposed to have a cabin for me inside the Fort. I don't know how big the bed will be but I'm sure we can manage."

The weather had warmed considerably and we spent the day talking, laughing and enjoying the scenery. The terrain was typical of the western desert, brown and sandy, highlighted by occasional mountains, mesas and the ubiquitous cactus.

"There's something about the desert that I find particularly soothing," I said. "I really can't explain it except to say that it's all rather comforting and familiar. It's almost as if I've been here before in another life, perhaps."

"You believe in reincarnation?"

"I don't think so. I'm basically a non-believer. I think that what he have in this life is all we have and I'm pleased to report that my life has improved considerably in the past few days."

"Thank you very much," she said, "and I will second that motion."

We arrived in Fort Bowie in mid-afternoon and went our separate ways. I checked in with the officer in charge of the media and was assigned a bunk in the bachelor officer's quarters while Kitty reported to the Fort commander. We met for dinner in the dining hall. She told me that she had been given a small cabin close to the base school.

"It's simple but nice," she said, "and the bed is big enough for two."

"Sounds good to me," I said.

"Me too."

After dinner we strolled around the Fort while I smoked a cheroot. She took a puff or two, obviously a modern, liberated woman. We admired a glorious desert sunset and than retired to her quarters. The temperature had dropped enough to warrant a fire in the small fireplace. While I started a fire she went into the kitchen and returned with a bottle of port and two glasses.

"Someone left this wine here and I can't think of anyone better to share it with," she said.

We set side by side on a small sofa, held hands and sipped the port. After we had drained our glasses I turned to her and, cupping her small perfect face in both hands, kissed her sweetly and then more hungrily.

"I want to make love to you," I said.

"Sounds good to me," she said.

We walked into her small bedroom, lit a candle and turned back the bed. She started to undress and I did the same. When we were naked we stood a few feet apart admiring each other and assessing the territory. She had released her hair from the rather prim bun she had worn it in thus far and it spread luxuriously almost to the pale petite shoulders. Her breasts were small but perfectly shaped with no hint of sag and brown protruding nipples. Her waist was tiny with just a bit of matronly paunch with her hips flaring out to frame a thick thatch of black pubic hair. Her legs were perfect.

"Beautiful," I said.

"Thank you," she said, "you look good to me too, almost good enough to eat."

"Almost?"

"Well I suppose I could be persuaded," she said with a chuckle.

"Speaking of that," I said, "how do you like to make love?"

"Slowly and frequently."

"Sounds yummy."

We moved closer together and I put one hand on one of her breasts and stroked her pussy with the other. She stroked my cock and said, "I believe this is where we left off."

"Indeed," I said, "and it's a delightful starting point."

"Then let the games begin."

We stretched out on her bed and I immediately began to adore her breasts with my mouth trying to divide my attentions evenly. She responded by stroking my hair and murmuring, "You sweet man, you dear sweet man."

Leaving her breasts I moved my tongue to her navel and then I said, "May I taste your treasures?"

"By all means."

I got off the bed and knelt on the floor by the bedside. She followed my move by repositioning herself with her butt on the edge of the bed. I spread her legs apart, draped them over my shoulders and dived in. I rubbed my face through her hairy bush and inhaled deeply. She signed and said, "Do you like my treasure chest?"

"I love it. It makes we want to loot and plunder."

"Then go right ahead on."

Spreading her legs even wider I began to lick up and down her nether lips, bathing my face with her essence. My inquisitive tongue located her pearl and I began to nibble and suck. She sighed and said, "Put your fingers in me."

"Gladly," I said and inserted first one and then two and then three inside, roiling them around and thrilling at her response.

"You're going to make me orgasm," she said.

"That's the idea," I said and picked up the pace.

"Oh yes," she said, "oh yes, yes, yesss!"

I stopped and looked up at her and said, "Did you enjoy that?"

"Enjoy doesn't begin to describe it."

I smiled and said, "Do you want me to fuck you?"

"Absolutely, but first let me taste your treasure."

I stood up and she dropped to her knees and brought her adorable face closer to my rock hard cock. She reached up and caressed my balls lovingly. I sighed as she took me into her mouth very slowly, pursing her lips around it and rubbing her tongue up the bottom of my shaft.

"Oh, Kitty, you are a woman of many talents," I said.

She grunted and nodded her head up and down never taking her mouth off my turgent tool. She cupped my balls softly and then rolled them around inside their sensitive sacks.

"I'm about to cum," I said, gasping.

"I want you cum inside of me," she said and, standing up, laid down on the bed. She spread her legs and moved between them, nuzzling my cock against her entrance. She reached down and deftly inserted me. As I plunged in she said, "Put my legs over your shoulders, spread me wide apart and fuck my brains out."

"How can I refuse," I said and did as she requested. Using the backs of her legs for leverage I fucked her with abandon, Her cunt clasped itself around my cock as if it had a mind of it's own and the squeezed her sphincter muscle in rhythm with my strokes.

"Cum for me, baby. Fill me up, fill me up!" she cried. I gave her one more gigantic thrust and came profusely, at least it felt pretty profuse to me. She must have been pleased because she held me tightly and said, "Thank you so very much. It's been a while since I felt a man cum inside of me."

"I'm glad you enjoyed it," I said.

"And did you enjoy it?"

"Immensely."

We both fell into a deep, satisfied and restful sleep. At dawn I awoke to find her playing with my cock. She said, "Good morning love. I know you have to leave today but I didn't want you to get away without another taste of your treasures."

I laughed and said, "After last night a taste is about all you'll get."

"Oh shucks," she laughed, "I was hoping for a mouthful."