Any yahoo who came within knife-throwing range was in big trouble if the Indian felt he was in danger. His squaw was long dead, shot by a trooper just...for target practice. His three sons would have been in their twenties now except for the fact they were hunted down and executed for jumping the reservation and joining a band of marauders led astray by white man's fire water and guns traded for the buffalo hides the peddlers seemed to value highly.He had taken his squaw's younger sister in. Damn this is one fucked up night I kept thinking, just as well call it a night and go to bed I guess, it was embarrassing but nothing I can do about it. Maybe he'll forget all about it tomorrow I wished, as my pecker softened and shrunk I decide to turn out the lights and fell asleep. An hour later I woke up to a naked muscular body sliding into bed with me, am I fucking dreaming I thought?? What the hell is going on I said out loud!? it was then I felt Xavier spooning up to me whispering into. More

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