Chapter 3

All five of the saddles were old Confederate issue saddles; there were many of these saddles to be found. So she found the one saddle that seemed to be in the best repair and put it astride the fifth horse. Helping their own horse onto her feet once more, Jennifer assisted Margaret into the saddle, then swung up onto her new steed’s back.

“Quite a wedding day, eh?” Margaret quipped as she urged her horse to draw alongside Jennifer.

“Yes, yes, quite a wedding day,” Jennifer agreed, squinting into the harsh February sun.

As the shadows grew long, Jennifer decided to begin looking for a place to make camp. A line of trees ahead told her that there was a stream or river ahead so urged their horses toward the tree line. Finding a relatively dry patch of earth, Jennifer first took care of their horses. That task completed, she set about building a fire; they would need it for their evening meal, for warmth, and for keeping wild animals at bay. Jennifer knew that a campfire was visible for several miles and would alert any searchers that there was a camp nearby. She hoped that Robert Myndee had not hired more renegades to search for Margaret but felt she had no choice but to build their fire.

After another meal of beans from a can, Jennifer lay some more branches onto their fire, checked on their horses once more, then finally lay their bedrolls out next to each other. She wished she’d had the foresight to grab a canvas tarp but fortunately, it was not raining. A few clouds rolled by; Jennifer did not think they were snow clouds but she still would have liked a little shelter from the cold wind.

“So,” Margaret cooed, softly rubbing her small hand up and down Jennifer’s torso through starched linen shirt. “Our wedding night?”

Any words Jennifer might have had were silenced when Margaret placed her moist lips against Jennifer’s lips. Jennifer was startled by Margaret’s passion but returned the kiss. She then felt Margaret’s tongue against her lips and opened her mouth to protest.

“Mm,” Margaret cooed into Jennifer’s mouth. “Oh my dear sweet Jenny; how I do love you.”

“And I love you too, Peggy Sue,” Jennifer agreed, then grunted as Margaret began to unbutton her shirt.

“I, oh! Oh Margaret!” Jennifer groaned as Margaret reached into the shirt and fondled Jennifer’s small breasts.

Margaret silenced any words Jennifer might have had with another passionate kiss. She sucked gently on Jennifer’s tongue as her fingers tweaked Jennifer’s very responsive nipples. Soon, Jennifer was writhing under Margaret’s touches.

“And…” Margaret cooed then flicked her warm, wet tongue over Jennifer’s tightly constricted areole and nipple.

“Ack!” Jennifer gasped loudly as a jolt more powerful than a bolt of lightning rippled through her slight frame.

Tilting her head slightly, Jennifer placed a loving kiss on the side of Margaret’s beautiful blonde head while Margaret suckled on Jennifer’s nipple. She gasped out once more when Margaret shifted from her left nipple to her right. With a shudder, Jennifer slumped back and allowed Margaret to pleasure her flesh.

“Ack, I, oh, oh!” Jennifer grunted as Margaret deftly unhooked Jennifer’s belt.

“Ack, I, I oh, oh God!” Jennifer gasped then shrieked as Margaret’s hand reached into Jennifer’s trousers and diddled Jennifer’s bud of pleasure.

“Shh!” Margaret ordered, giggling.

“I, oh dear God, this, this is sinful! Margaret, this, this must be sinful; to feel this good,” Jennifer protested as Margaret’s fingers plunged into Jennifer’s wet folds.

Jennifer had no hymen to prevent Margaret’s fingers from entering her; Jennifer’s active lifestyle had torn the thin membrane years earlier. So, with no discomfort from her first penetration, Jennifer was overcome with raw emotions as her friend, her lover fingered her depths.

“Come, come,” Margaret ordered, fingers making a squelching sound as she fingered Jennifer.

“What, what augh, would you have me do?” Jennifer panted, close to cresting.

“I, I am touching you,” Margaret ordered. “Perhaps you should touch me?”

“Oh, oh, but of course,” Jennifer agreed.

“I tell you,” Margaret said, voice thick with mock disdain. “Those Williams. Wouldn’t have the sense to come in out of the rain if you didn’t tell them it was raining.”

Margaret laughed when Jennifer delivered a firm pinch to her dangling breast.

Jennifer gasped; Margaret’s breast was bare. Reaching down, Jennifer discovered that all of Margaret was bare. Quickly, Jennifer worked her boots from her feet and disrobed. Then she pulled Margaret to lie fully atop of her. They kissed, Margaret’s heavy breasts rubbing against Jennifer’s very small, hard breasts. Margaret’s tuft of blonde hairs rubbed maddeningly against Jennifer’s crop of brown curls. They kissed as Jennifer’s hands roamed up and down Margaret’s smooth back until Jennifer’s small hands gripped Margaret’s buttocks. With grunts and sighs, the two women thrust and rubbed their crotches against one another.

“I, dear, dear Peggy Sue, I must taste you,” Jennifer panted.

“Oh! Oh yes, and, I must taste you,” Margaret agreed.

With fumbling and twisting, Margaret straddled Jennifer’s head. In the flickering firelight, Jennifer could see Margaret’s blonde thatch. Dividing the thatch into two halves, Jennifer could see light pink petals, plump and moist. The scent wafting from the petals was bewitching and Jennifer reached out her tongue to lap at the fragrant cleft.

She grunted as she felt Margaret’s hot breath at her own juncture. Jennifer tried to ignore the wonderful, illicit feelings that engulfed her slight frame as Margaret’s tongue swiped along her petals. With resolve, Jennifer concentrated on pleasuring her Margaret, her Peggy Sue with tongue and lips and fingers.

Margaret must have been quite close to her crisis; only a few licks of Jennifer’s tongue against her bud produced a squeal, shudder and long moan. Jennifer felt her face become quite wet with Margaret’s essences.

“Ack! I, oh, oh… Aaieegh!” Jennifer shrieked as her own crisis exploded from deep within herself.

Twice more, she managed to pleasure Margaret. And, twice more, Margaret managed to cause Jennifer’s own pleasure to overwhelm all of her senses.

“No, no, I, I shall go quite mad if you do not cease,” Jennifer begged.

The two dressed quickly; without the body heat of one another, they could feel the cold wind on their flesh. Dressed once more, Margaret lay her beautiful blonde head on Jennifer’s slight chest. A moment later, she giggled.

“I, I can hear your heart,” Margaret said.

“I can hear my heart as well,” Jennifer smiled, kissing the top of Margaret’s head. “You. You are my heart.”

A few more clouds wafted overhead. Jennifer watched the clouds obscure the immense blanket of stars for a moment, then slowly, the stars once more appeared as the clouds wafted away, heading east.

“Do, do you ever believe we will be safe? From Robert Myndee?” Margaret’s soft voice asked.

“I promise, my Peggy Sue, I promise,” Jennifer said with conviction. “I pledge to keep you and protect you from any and all that may wish to harm you.”

Margaret sighed in contentment.

“After all, you, you are my love, my life,” Jennifer continued.

“And your wife,” Margaret agreed.

“And my wife,” Jennifer agreed.

In the morning, they crossed the river, using a crude wooden bridge that someone had constructed across the Blanc River. Entering the small town of Eastblanc, hair firmly tucked under her hat, Jennifer made inquiries about possible employment for husband and wife.

Margaret and William opened a dining hall in Westblanc, Nebraska. Upstairs, guests could find a good, sturdy and comfortable bed with straw mattress for a good night’s rest and for four bits extra, a good hot bath would be brought up. Two bits more and William would give the guest a good haircut and a nice smooth shave.

After giving their guest a shave and a haircut, Jennifer Williams would leave the room and return to the kitchen where Margaret toiled over the hot stove and oven. Then with whispers and giggles, Jennifer would describe the attributes of their guest.

“William!” Margaret would squeal, slapping Jennifer on her arm as she laughed.

“Thought I might need to see Doc Harris,” Jennifer would smirk, pretending to squint.

From time to time, a telegraph would come in. Each time any inquiry about Margaret or Jennifer Williams would come through, the proprietor of the Westblanc Mercantile would respond that he knew of no Margaret Williams or Jennifer Williams. In time, Robert Myndee ceased searching for the hoped-for blonde dancer and saloon girl.

And, in a small cemetery, a few rows away from the grave of Steven Myndee was the grave of Jonah Williams. He died as he had lived; a sniveling coward that did not put up a fight to protect himself or his Margaret.

***Author’s Notes: I write these stories for my pleasure; I post them here for your enjoyment. I thank you sincerely for reading my stories.

I especially thank those that take the time to leave comments, good and bad. Likewise, I thank those that take the time to rate my words, those that ‘Favorite’ my works.

This is an entry for the Literotica VALENTINES DAY 2026 contest. Please take a moment to rate this and the other fine tales entered in this contest. Thank you.

There are no characters from any other JimBob44 story making an appearance in this tale. Of course, Eastblanc and Westblanc, Nebraska are introduced in ‘Parlor Games’ in the BDSM category.

Have a swell day. And some of you, have a swollen day. And all of you, have a very Happy Valentine’s Day.