*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, using Microsoft Word Spell-Check. You have been forewarned; expect to find mistakes.
**..**..**
The late afternoon sun beat down on him as he sat, propped up against a large boulder. The boulder was hot; the sun had warmed it over the hours. He could feel the skin of his back blistering slightly as the heat seeped through his worn shirt and union suit. Thankfully, he still had his hat protecting his head from the harsh, unforgiving sun.
Of course, the sun beating down on the dark pressed beaver pelt material made the hat very hot. His sweat trickled freely, trickled into his eyes as he sat upon the hot sand, his back against the hot boulder.
He knew this boulder; he'd set the charge into the pre-drilled holes of the hard rock shelf. When the charge had gone off, rocks and sand and a few boulders had been hurled skyward before clattering down to Earth again. This particular boulder had been much larger when it leapt skyward, then split into five large boulders that bounced a few times then rolled away from the site of the blast. This boulder had been the largest of the five boulders.
He'd nodded in satisfaction before marching east to again use the small auger to drill holes into the sandstone shelf. Another blast that shook the very earth and again sent debris heavenward had lengthened the channel the man had commissioned.
It took several days to form the channel from the wide stream to the edge of the rock shelf. Below the edge, the man had requested a retaining pond be dug. Here, the ground was mostly rock and clay; one charge removed much of the loose earth and picks and shovels removed the rest until a pit of twenty feet by thirty feet by four feet had been excavated. The final part had been to dig a trench that would carry the water from the bond down to the Sopopaya Lake.
Clay had been sorted from the rocks and laid into the bowl of the pond. After beating the loose clay down with the back of shovels, a heavy roller was employed. Back and forth, back and forth the metal tube was sent until the pond was a bowl of hard packed clay and dirt.
He set one final charge that blew the thin strip of rock that separated the wide creek and new channel. When the strip of rock blew away, the water rushed to fill the channel. He and his laborers noticed several fish, stunned from the blast now floated on the surface of the slow moving stream. They hurried to gather the fish and celebrated the end of their long labor with a good fish fry that evening.
That night, the man brought his wife, a very beautiful and very young Mexican girl to the celebration. Her ankle-length black hair was set, held in place by silver and tortoise shell combs. By the light of the cooking fire, her dark eyes had glittered like jewels as the man introduced his wife to the head of the laborers.
Looking into her smoldering eyes, looking at her full, red lips and her dusky skin, he was lost. He greeted the senorita in her native tongue and was rewarded by a delighted smile that made her sultry beauty shine even brighter.
After a few words back and forth, she admitted that the man, her husband did not speak Spanish. She also said that the man grew quite angry whenever she did speak her native tongue; the man was sure she was speaking ill of her husband.
Stepping away from the festivities, she walked along the channel, smiling and laughing as she exclaimed the water was singing to her. Seeing the water cascading from the channel into the pond below, she ran back to the group and asked the man if it was safe for her to swim. Angrily, the man ordered that she must not swim while the laborers were close by.
With a pout, she sat on the rock shelf, dangling her feet near to the water below.
In the morning, he was paid by the man. He then paid each of his laborers and wished each man well. Some went to the saloon to drink and whore their money away. Some went to the train station; there was more work for them in the mining camps in the newly formed state of Colorado. Three of the men went to the nearby military fort to see about joining up.
He looked around; the man was nowhere in sight. Placing the remainder of the money into his saddlebag, he walked his trusty mare the length of the channel, admiring his handiwork.
Just as he reached the edge of the rock shelf, he heard a splash and a squeal of laughter. Looking over the edge of the shelf, he saw her. The water shimmered off of her nude form, creating a dusky skinned mermaid.
Just as the mermaids of lore, this mermaid's song was entrancing. He could not resist her silent song as she swam the length then breadth of the pond. What well-formed haunches she did possess. Her muscled thighs and shapely calves did propel her as if she were born to this water.
He stripped off his clothing and dove from the shelf into the pond below. She smiled when he joined her in the pond. Her round breasts bobbled as she walked near to him. Just below the dancing surface of the waters, he could see a shadowy vision of her dark triangle of fur.
Their lips met. He placed his left hand upon her shapely buttocks, his right hand upon her left breast with dark nipple. She moaned in pleasure at his tough.
He pressed his lips to hers and she opened her mouth. He thrust his tongue into her mouth, then sucked her tongue into his own. She moaned again, then reached down for him.
Her folds welcomed him into her furnace. She pulled back and barked out in delight as he pressed himself home within her.
XXX
Weakly, he raised his hand to wipe at the sweat that stung his eyes. The movement caused him to gasp out; the pain was overwhelming.
He had taken his bandanna and pressed it against the gaping wound in his belly in a vain attempt to staunch the flow of blood. The scrap of cloth had done little to stop the blood that oozed from the wound. Each heartbeat sent waves of pain throughout his body and sent more of his life's blood to stain his bandana and his trousers and the earth beneath his haunches.
His feeble movement nearly knocked the hat from his head. As hot as the hat was, he knew it would be worse to have his head and face exposed to the unforgiving sun.
Nearby, he could hear the water of the manmade channel gurgling and babbling as it flowed along its southeastern path. He could hear the water splashing into the pond below. The thirst was overwhelming; he willed his legs to move but they would not obey. He thought of rolling onto his belly; his arms still worked. He could drag himself the thirty or forty feet to the channel, slake his thirst.
The slightest movement caused him to cry out in agony. He reached his right hand down to steady himself and jerked his hand away from the scorching earth. That movement too caused him to cry out once more.
The man had stopped him just as he mounted his horse to leave. He and the man discussed constructing a wooden gate at either end of the channel should the man wish to stem the flow of water into the pond. It was decided the gate should be positioned at the mouth or entrance of the new channel, just outside of the main stream.
She came to him; she sat and watched as he labored. Whenever he would look up, she would smile her bewitching smile and playfully lift the hem of her skirt. For the briefest of moments, he would see the charms she possessed. Then with a delighted laugh, she would waggle her finger and chide him for his impertinence and lower her skirt again.
