Wagon Train West (Lesbian sex, threesome)
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		<h2 id="linktree">Play-By-Post: Light =&gt; Light: Human Small Groups =&gt; Topic started by: Annisthyrienne on 07-06-2014, 18:58:20</h2>
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				Title: <strong>Wagon Train West (Lesbian sex, threesome)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Annisthyrienne</strong> on <strong>07-06-2014, 18:58:20</strong>
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				Name:&nbsp; Jessica Ashleigh Covington-Lee, aka Jess, Jessi, or Ash.<br>Sex: Female<br>Height: 5'-8"<br>Weight: 135 lbs.<br>Hair color/style: Formerly wavy, honey blonde, about down to her mid back.&nbsp; Now cut short, ragged, dyed chestnut brown.<br>Originally from Georgia, wife of a confederate soldier, mistress of a moderate sized plantation located in North Georgia, near present day Rome.<br><br>(https://elliquiy.com/elluiki/images/4/43/Jessica-Ashleigh2.jpg)<br><br><br><br><br><span style="font-family: comic sans ms;" class="bbc_font">April, 1866<br><br>My Dearest Josiah,<br><br>I've decided to address my words in this journal as if I were writing them to you, my husband, for it gives me comfort to think of you near me somehow.&nbsp; It has been almost three years since I lost you, and still I yearn for your touch.<br><br>I shall keep this diary as a record of my great adventure.&nbsp; A new life awaits me in the West.&nbsp; Perhaps I can find some peace there, or at least a new start.&nbsp; My journey began, Josiah, a month ago.&nbsp; I am sad to say that it began with the sorrow of losing Greenbriar to those damned Yankee financiers.&nbsp; But in truth, it had come to that at last.&nbsp; I tried, my husband, I tried so very hard.&nbsp; But since you left me to join your unit, it became harder and harder to make ends meet.&nbsp; When the blue bellies came at last to Georgia, we all did what we could.&nbsp; I did my part too, Josiah.&nbsp; I think you would have been proud of me.&nbsp; I'd like to think so. <br><br>When I was able to return to our home, there wasn't much left.&nbsp; The Yankees had looted the farm, and the negroes were gone; run off or scared off, I could not say.&nbsp; Without help, I could not keep things going for long, but made the best go of it I could.&nbsp; When I just couldn't carry on any longer, I took what funds I could muster and bought passage to Missouri.<br><br>And that, my dearest, brings me to the odd circumstance I find myself in now.&nbsp; I am traveling westward with two other women as my companions on the journey, but that is not the strangest part.&nbsp; One of them is a Yankee, judging by her speech, and the other, a woman of the town.&nbsp; Two more unlikely companions for me to associate with could not be found, Josiah.&nbsp; But the strangest part is yet to be told, for I am posing as a man, a husband to one of them, with the other claiming kinship to me as my sister in law. It is the circumstances we all find ourselves in that has forced our charade; the wagon train master would accept no females traveling alone into the company heading west. <br><br>And so, dear husband, it is I who now must play the part of a 'dear husband' to a woman I met only yesterday.&nbsp; Our all too brief courtship consisted of hatching our scheme along with the third member of our company, a recent widow form Pennsylvania.&nbsp; When we'd seized upon the plan, the rest of the day was spent in retrieving the wagon, team of oxen, and the supplies from the guarantor who held them on behalf of the young widow, and in making me look more like a man.&nbsp; The golden locks of which you were always so fond had to be sacrificed to further the impression.&nbsp; With the help of my two new companions, I cut my hair short and ragged, and dyed it a deep chestnut brown.&nbsp; A large hat with a big floppy brim and a kerchief will help to hide my appearance from prying eyes.&nbsp; Men's clothing will do the rest.&nbsp; It isn't the first time such a costume has worked to conceal a woman's charms.<br><br>And so, as we embark on this adventure at last, each of us with our own reasons for going west, we will be forced into close living arrangements and intimate company.&nbsp; I shall have to find some common ground with these women if we are to pull off our little deception.&nbsp; And pull it off we must, lest the wagon master leave us behind somewhere along the trail in the wilderness.<br><br>Neither of the other two know, Josiah, of my past.&nbsp; Scarcely two years ago saw me in similarly unlikely company, in circumstances not so very different.&nbsp; I made it through that, and am determined to make it through this.<br><br>Until my next entry, I shall close, as always, <br><br>With affection,<br>Jess<br></span><br><br>+++++++++++++++++++++<br><br>(http://www.rootsweb.ancestry.com/~moicgs/Web-Images/Wagon_Train1.gif)<br><br>The sharp crack of a whip split the Missouri Spring morning like a clap of thunder, signaling the wagon train to get underway.&nbsp; The groan of wood and leather, the bawling of oxen in their traces, and the slow creak of wagon wheels protesting into motion filled the air with a raucous cacophony in the moments to follow.&nbsp; Yet the entire mix seemed to blend into one long sigh of relief; anticipation of the journey ahead expressed as an eagerness to finally be getting underway.<br><br>The wagon train was nearly forty wagons strong that Spring morning when they set out from Jefferson City, Missouri, along with livestock numbering over two hundred animals, thirty-two families, and a dozen unaccompanied men, including a wagon master and a guide.&nbsp; The train slowly lurched out onto the Missouri prairie, raising a cloud of dust in the early morning air.<br><br>Somewhere near the rear third of the procession, a newly purchased wagon rattled along, driven by a slender looking young man wearing a wide brimmed hat, a kerchief pulled up high around his neck to help to catch the rising dust before he swallowed too much of it, a sturdy denim jacket over a cotton shirt, denim pants and leather chaps.&nbsp; Dusty leather boots and a holstered revolver rounded out his apparel, and a new Henry repeating rifle was propped against the seat next to him. <br><br>His hair was ragged cut, and he occasionally reached up to tug at it as if he wasn't used to it feeling that way.&nbsp; The young man looked about constantly, as if on the alert for something, yet avoided looking directly at any gaze directed his way, save for that of his two companions.&nbsp; He drove the team of oxen steadily along, proficient enough to keep them moving along the trail.&nbsp; It wasn't so hard to follow the wagon in front of them, though there would be challenges to come that would test his mettle in handling the team.<br><br>Beside him on the wagon seat sat his young wife, pretty and blonde.&nbsp; Yet he barely spared a glance in her direction, nor a word of conversation.&nbsp; They sat a little apart, as much as the wagon seat would allow, and the Henry separated them as well.&nbsp; It almost seemed as if they were a little uncomfortable in each other's presence, but that was bound to change.<br><br>Inside the wagon, the third member of the little group rode, alone in her grief, arranging some few items to better ship the constant jostling sway of the wagon as it bounced along the ruts of the trail left by those wagons ahead of them.&nbsp; Brunette ringlets descended from beneath the bonnet she wore.&nbsp; The skirts of her dress spread out in the little space she occupied that was not taken up with the many boxes and bundles of their belongings and supplies.<br><br>To any casual observer, they might have seemed nothing more than they claimed to be: a young man and his wife, and their recently bereaved sister in law, all traveling together to find a place to make a new start in life after the harrows of the recent Civil War.&nbsp; Only when one looked a little closer could the tell-tale signs that something was not as it seemed be detected.<br><br>But on that April morning in 1866, the other members of the wagon train were equally all too concerned about their own dreams of the future to notice anything awry.<br>
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				Title: <strong>Re: Wagon Train West (Lesbian sex, threesome)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Chrystal</strong> on <strong>07-06-2014, 23:24:52</strong>
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				Name: Penelope Fremont<br>Sex: Female<br>Height: 5' 4¾"<br>Weight: 114 lbs<br>Hair Colour/Style: Chestnut brown, mid-shoulder length curls, commonly worn loose under a bonnet.<br>Originally from Gettysburg Pennsylvania. Married to a young farrier, who joined the Union army, was captured by the Confederacy in 1863, escaped in 1864 and made his way home, sick with dysentery and with only one eye.<br><br>(http://images.fanpop.com/images/image_uploads/Kristen-in-Deadwood-kristen-bell-292333_333_500.jpg)<br><br><span style="font-family: Amienne;" class="bbc_font"><span style="font-size: 20pt;" class="bbc_size">April 1866<br><br>This is the Journal of Penelope Fremont, (Mrs). Widow.<br><br>I am keeping this journal, because I have seen others keep them and it seems a goodly and Godly thing to do. I cannot confess the sin I am committing, for to do so would leave me stranded, but not only myself but my companions also. And I am not convinced that it is a sin, yet we are committing a subterfuge.<br><br>My late husband, may God rest his soul, returned from the war a broken man. Our home was destroyed in the battle that won the war for the Union, but he was taken prisoner at Chancellorsville almost three months before. I feared I would never see him again, but God be praised he returned to me. He was sick and short an eye, but I nursed him back to health. With our home destroyed by the seseshers we lived off charity. I thought to rebuild, restart our business as farriers, but Joseph, God rest his soul, said we should start anew out west.<br><br>And so we took train to Missouri. We didn't have much, but what we had we brought with, the farrier's tools and anvil we could not replace out west. My Joseph was never a weak man, never a sickly man before the war. We needed to raise money for the joining fee, and Joseph had bought and paid for a wagon and oxen. We had cattle too, but the Wagonmaster wanted a fee, he says, to cover his own time and expenses, and those of his trackers, two Indians, and his guide, a grizzled old mountain man. We hadn't the money with us, so Joseph took upon himself to have a relative wire us money to the bank here in Jefferson City.<br><br>He was on his way to pay the Wagonmaster when ill chance befell. My poor Joseph was set upon by brigands from his blind side. Foul place this, the place of his murder! The law here is none existent, there is no constabulary, and only a minimal army presence. I shall see no justice, nor shall I see the money again.<br><br>The Wagonmaster would not take a single lady, even one already signed up. I sold Joseph's prize anvil to try and redeem my place on the train, but the Wagonmaster would hear none of it. It looked as if I were to spend my days in this drear place, as a woman of easy virtue, selling my body to live. When odd chance should occur.<br><br>Sitting in the hotel lobby I observed one such street woman hurry in and engage another single lady in conversation, pleading to be hidden. Their talk turned to joining the self same train that I had been so rudely cast out from. It was the street woman suggested to the Sesesher lady that they pose as husband and wife. I was over hearing, no more, and when I heard this I laughed aloud. Their talk hushed, and they looked at me. I in all innocence asked them where they would get a man's chattels to fit the lady. This had them undone for a time. I muttered a prayer, asking forgiveness of my dear Joseph, still cooling in the ground. "Why you are about the same build as my late husband murdered but two days ago", says I.<br><br>And it is from this that our plot was hatched</span></span><br><br><hr><br>Penelope sat in the back of the wagon, Clothed in black as befit a widow. She was not sorry to be leaving the miserable hovel that rejoiced in the grandiose name of Jefferson City. Little more than&nbsp; a railroad station, an hotel, stock pens, a dozen or so saloons and other dens of inequity, and the merchants who made a living off the flesh of those heading West.&nbsp; She knelt on the mattress that was to serve as bed for all three, although how they would squeese in she could not fathom. The wagon lurched forward and Penelope fell to her hands with the unexpectedness of it. She scowled and picked up the pots and pans that had fallen from the hooks that she had painstakingly attached to the iron hoops that supported the wagons canvas.<br><br>One of the old Springfield rifles jolted from the rack on the inside of the wagon and Penny lifted it back in. They had two of the single shot weapons, both had seen service in the War, and Jessi had bought herself that Henry rifle, for what purpose, Penny hated to think. The Springfields were good enough for hunting. The Sesesher woman, who was posing as her brother-in-law has some strange ideas.<br><br>Penny shook her head. She needed to stop thinking of Jessi as a woman. If she thought it she would say it, if she said it she would betray them. She moved to the front of the wagon and looked out past the shoulders of the 'couple'. "Well,", she said softly, "We're on the way. Good. I am happy to leave."<br><br>With a snort, she moved to the back of the wagon and spat symbolically into the dust cloud. "A curse on you, Jefferson City, who could not give a widow justice against her husband's killers. <acronym title="Matthew 10:14">I shake thy dust off my feet!</acronym>" She stood, clutching the iron hoop at the back of the wagon and deliberately shook her foot out of the open end, then pulled the flap down to cover it and made her way unsteadily to the front again. "Bastards", she swore softly under her breath.
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				Title: <strong>Re: Wagon Train West (Lesbian sex, threesome)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Visna</strong> on <strong>12-06-2014, 00:24:45</strong>
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				Name: Elizabeth "Bethie" Bishop<br>Sex: Female<br>Height: 5'6"<br>Weight: 125 lbs<br>Hair Color/Style: Blonde, often worn straight and long or in a full braid.<br>Originally from Memphis, Tennessee. Daughter of a hired farmhand and sister to three brothers, all killed in the war fighting for the South.<br>(http://24.media.tumblr.com/a3e4296cdc8e86b38395cd78c799e1f0/tumblr_mp7x0zOtvV1rw1vgeo1_1280.jpg)<br><br><hr><em><span style="font-family: georgia;" class="bbc_font">May, 1863 - A letter sent to Mrs. Eleanor Hardy<br><br>Auntie Eleanor,<br><br>It has been some time since I last saw you. I believe it was 1860 at great-uncle Joseph's funeral. I hope you have been well.<br><br>Father always told me that the Lord watches over us the most in dark times. After living through the recent months, I must say that I do believe he was right.<br><br>As you may have heard, father was killed in the war. Robert and Danny too. The tragedy struck mother and I quite hard. In January, the damn Yankees made it to Memphis. They raided the whole city, burning most of it. They came to the plantation. Mother and I were still staying there, helping out as much as we could. Mr. Wilkes was mighty kind to us. They ransacked the whole place, and they took mother. She returned a few days later, but she was never the same. She never spoke about what happened, and she died about a month later. The doctor says it was the flu, but I think she was just too sad to keep on going.<br><br>Mr. Wilkes let me stay for a while. The Yankees set all the Negros free, and his estate was torn up badly. Eventually, he decided to pack up and head to South Carolina where he had a brother. I moved in with Mrs. Davis, a neighbor. She let me stay for a few months, but she says she can't afford me much longer.<br><br>There ain't no jobs around here. Not anymore, at least.<br><br>Father always told me I could turn to you for help. I simply ask for a place to stay. I can cook and clean, and I've heard there are more jobs in Missouri than here. I've grown a lot since we last saw each other. Working on the farm has made me strong.<br><br>With an overabundance of love,<br><br>Bethie</span></em><br><hr><br><hr><em><span style="font-family: georgia;" class="bbc_font">April, 1866 - Bethie's diary<br><br>The Lord is my witness.<br><br>It is the Lord who goes before you. He will be with you; he will not fail you or forsake you. Do not fear or be dismayed. Deuteronomy 31:8<br><br>I pray that nobody reads these pages, for within them is written the confession of my guilt and sin. Today, I killed a man.<br><br>I know not his name, but I shall never forget his face. He was a regular. In the past, he paid up. I heard he lost his job in the next town, but he kept coming around. He didn't just see me, but he saw me the most, I think. From what I was told, he was close friends with Mr. Barber, the owner. So, after he missed a few payments, he let it slide.<br><br>He began to approach me when I was shopping. I shrugged him off. It hadn't been the first time. But, my Lord, he was persistent. Yesterday, he came upon me. It was late, and he was drunk. Fearing for my life, I shot him. My auntie always had me carry my father's Colt. As I write, my hands shake. I will never forget his final words, which I shall never record or utter.<br><br>Fearing the consequences and scorn, I fled. I knew there was a wagon train leaving town soon. I had heard some men talking about it in the tavern. With determination and swiftness, I moved to secure myself a spot on the train. I was told that women were unable to travel alone. After speaking with some other ladies that were stuck in a similar situation, we agreed to enact a ruse to grant us passage out west on the wagon train. I would play the role of the wife. I am excited, and I have tried to find God's light in these circumstances.<br><br>I have many regrets, but the biggest is thank I will be unable to thank Auntie in person. I could not bring myself to see her and tell her of my deed. I wrote a letter to her, telling her that I was heading out west. I shall write a longer thank you once I am safely away.</span></em><br><hr><br>Being the third of four children had taught Bethie to not be stubborn. She always tried to remain optimistic and cooperative. When the opportunity to align with the other girls presented itself, she spoke her mind.<br><br>Sitting at the front of the wagon did not change that side of her. It was not yet summer, and so the sun was soothingly warm. Bethie was mostly silent, and she found herself staving off sleep on multiple occasions. She tried to amuse herself by watching the scenery, but the pace was too slow to make it enjoyable.<br><br>She found some solace by watching her new companions. The first was an educated southerner. Bethie had been around a plantation for most of her life, and she reminded her of some of the plantation owner's daughters. She seemed quite cold, but Bethie couldn't decipher if that was merely an act.<br><br>The other woman was a Yankee. Bethie wasn't fond of Yankees before the war, and she hated them after it. This woman, Penelope, seemed just like the rest to Bethie. She had a loud accent and a foul mouth.<br><br>Still, the woman made for moderate entertainment as she scurried around the inside of the wagon. All of Bethie's belongings were in a single suitcase. Simple dresses, her father's Colt, and a few books made up most of her belongings.<br><br>She looked back toward Jess and wondered if she should say anything. After some consideration, she turned back and continued to watch the treeline.
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				Title: <strong>Re: Wagon Train West (Lesbian sex, threesome)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Annisthyrienne</strong> on <strong>21-06-2014, 17:11:09</strong>
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				<span style="font-family: brush script std;" class="bbc_font"><span style="font-size: 16pt;" class="bbc_size">End of the first day, April 1866<br><br>Dearest Josiah,<br><br>It has been a long day, full of dust and sun.&nbsp; There were times I would have sworn to have swallowed half of Missouri, kicked up as it was into the air by the many hooves, and feet traveling ahead of our place in the train.&nbsp; Never have I been so glad to have a drink of water as when we stopped to make camp for the evening.&nbsp; Well, I suppose that as a strong statement to make considering where I was scarcely two years past.<br><br>The day started out pleasant enough when we got underway.&nbsp; The sun was shining and the air was still cool in the morning.&nbsp; But by the noon hour, I thought surely it would have blistered the skin from my body, were it not for this wide brimmed hat.&nbsp; I have the yankee woman to thank for the men's clothing.&nbsp; All of what I shall be wearing for the next few months belonged to her poor late husband. <br><br>I can sympathize with her grief, Josiah, yankee though she may be.&nbsp; I know what it is like to lose a husband, my dear.&nbsp; Oh the pain I went through!&nbsp; And now I know she must be feeling the same way.&nbsp; Yet I had the comfort of knowing that you died fighting to save our way of life from the Northern aggression. She has no such relief from the grief that besets her poor spirit.&nbsp; Her husband was set upon by brigands, and robbed of all the money he had.&nbsp; It left her bereft and in a fix.<br><br>(I have decided, dear husband, to resort to the vulgar common speech of the men I have had occasion to share company with in the past, in order to compel the illusion that I am a man on this journey.&nbsp; It will be a trial to pose as the husband of that loose woman in the first place, I am not accustomed to consorting with her type.&nbsp; But to reach the ultimate goal we all three share, it is necessary. I fear I shall have to do more than talk like a man to accomplish the ruse. But I shall not speak of such things here with you, dear husband. In any case, forgive me if some of that common language finds its way into this narrative.)<br><br>She proposed to offer her poor husband's clothes to me to wear to pose as husband to the other woman, if I would help her with the funds to get her wagon and oxen out of hock.&nbsp; It seemed an equitable arrangement since we all needed to go with the train, and not likely to get there on our own.<br><br>Most of the money I had from the sale of our farm I used to pay the guarantor for the wagon and team owned by the poor yankee woman's husband.&nbsp; Much of the rest was used to buy supplies for our journey.&nbsp; I allowed myself one luxury, Josiah, and that was the purchase of one of those Henry repeating rifles.&nbsp; The damned yankees used them well enough against us when I was with the boys in Georgia, and I was impressed.&nbsp; It was said in the camps that those blue bellies could load that rifle on Sunday and fire it all week!&nbsp; I knew when I saw it in that dry goods store that I just had to have it, though it cost a pretty penny.&nbsp; With that and the Remington that I got from one of our boys, I fear for no wild injun attack. I keep it next to me on the wagon seat, between me and my 'wife' and betwixt the two, I cherish the Henry more than the wife.<br><br>We made nearly 16 miles today, by the wagon master's reckoning.&nbsp; He said that we ought to go farther tomorrow, since everybody will be getting ready to go earlier than today.&nbsp; I must close for now, so I can water the oxen.<br><br>Yours Always,<br>Jess</span><br></span><br>+++++++++++++++++<br><br>The young man led the team of oxen down to the gently sloping banks of the shallow creek that wound it's way through the Missouri prairie.&nbsp; It was too small of a creek to show up on any map, or even to have a name that folks would remember.&nbsp; But it was enough for the thirsty animals to enjoy and replenish themselves, and it was a welcome sight to the hazel green eyes of the slim figure who knelt upstream from the mighty animals to fill the wooden bucket he carried.<br><br>He squinted against the late evening sun that shone just above the horizon on the opposite bank of the stream, but though he was looking at the scene right in front of him, his thoughts were in a different place.&nbsp; And those thoughts troubled him enough to make his brow furrow. <br><br>Jess' mind was on her new 'wife' and 'sister-in-law'.&nbsp; In their current situation, she was going to have to start acting more like a husband or risk their whole plan unraveling.&nbsp; But doing the things she'd have to do to pull off the deception would mean becoming close to&nbsp; a woman Jessica Ashleigh Covington-Lee would never have associated with in her old life.&nbsp; She realized she was going to have to change how she thought about her companions, and they would have to change how they thought about her.&nbsp; One thing was for certain; she had better start soon, she thought.<br><br>It was the thoughts of just what she would have to do to become a better 'husband' to a former prostitute that occupied Jess' mind as she hobbled the oxen and set them to graze, then began to climb the low sloping bank of the stream back up to where the wagon train was encamped.&nbsp; She was carrying the wooden bucket full of water, and trying not to spill too much of it, when she heard raised voices ahead, coming from the wagon she shared with the two other women.<br><br>As she hastened her steps and drew nearer, she could tell it was some sort of confrontation.&nbsp; There was a dirty looking man there, grabbing Bethie by her arm and growling through his thick beard and mustache, "I know who I saw, and I say yer the same whore what was at Barber's place a' kissin' on those two other men last week."<br><br>The words drove a spike of fear of being discovered deep into Jess' gut, but the sight of how the man was handling Bethie turned that fear into anger as cold and hard as any feeling she'd known during the war.&nbsp; This drunken lout was going to ruin everything, and get them thrown out of the wagon train on their first day out!&nbsp; The anger spurred her actions without conscious thought.&nbsp; She took a couple staggering steps forward, spinning as she went, swinging the bucket out from her body as she turned in a full circle, gaining momentum, then brought it swinging up to crash against the side of the man's head.&nbsp; The impact knocked him to the ground, momentarily stunned senseless as water splashed everywhere.&nbsp; <br><br>But Jess' Southern temper didn't let her stop there.&nbsp; A moment later, the Remington was in her hand, cocked and pointed at the man on the ground as he scrabbled to reach for his own pistol, holding his still spinning head with his other hand.&nbsp; He stopped in mid-draw.&nbsp; The younger, almost boyish looking man who held the Remington Army .44 pointed steadily at him had not drawn particularly fast in the eyes of any onlooker who witnessed the altercation.&nbsp; But the draw was smooth, the revolver coming clear of the holster and the hammer cocking back in one smooth motion, hinting at the practice gained by repeated use in the past.<br><br>The grizzles mule skinner paused, looking up at the yawning maw of the unwavering barrel.&nbsp; He heard the low, hard-edged sound of the young man's voice as it hissed between clenched teeth, "Mister, this here's my wife.&nbsp; And if you ever insult her or put your hands on her like that agin' I'll put a bullet through yore haid 'stead o' that thar bucket!"<br><br>It was the sound of the voice as much as the big hole of the pistol bore that froze the man's hand on the butt of his own gun.&nbsp; It wasn't a high angry shout, rather a low, venomous warning that hinted at the resolve behind the words.&nbsp; Looking past the barrel of the Remington, he could see that the face behind the aimed gun was very young looking, even fair, although contorted in anger at the moment.&nbsp; But coming out of the war, there were many a youthful face that concealed a hard edged killer behind it.&nbsp; Young men who had left their family farm and went off to fight in the grand cause had come back as trained killers, inured to death and suffering.&nbsp; And especially in Missouri, many with nothing better to do, and no other skills to speak of, were coming west.&nbsp; They didn't have to be fast to be deadly.&nbsp; All they needed was a reason.<br><br>Just then the harsh shout of the wagon master cut through the tension.&nbsp; "Hey! Break it up!&nbsp; Put that gun away!" He stormed through the crowd, shoving onlookers aside to get through, then got between Jess and the mule skinner.&nbsp; Jess lowered the revolver and eased the hammer down with her thumb, still glowering at the grizzled man as he got to his feet carefully.&nbsp; To the mule skinner, the wagon master barked, "Haven't you got things to do?"&nbsp; then back to Jess, he queried, "What's your name, son?&nbsp; What is this all about?"<br><br>Jess slowly holstered the Remington.&nbsp; "Lee.&nbsp; Jess Lee.&nbsp; That man was grabbing my wife.&nbsp; I got every right to defend her."&nbsp; The wagon master looked the young hot head over in the dimming light of the evening.&nbsp; There was something not quite right about the man, he thought.&nbsp; Whip cord lean and tough, spoiling for a fight, apparently.&nbsp; He nodded and said, "Well since you have so much steam to work off, you can take a night watch.&nbsp; Go on up to the lead wagon where the other men are meeting.&nbsp; Take that fancy rifle of yours with you.&nbsp; Somebody there will tell you what to do."<br><br>Jess sullenly nodded.&nbsp; There was no use giving the wagon master any reason to think she'd be troublesome.&nbsp; She didn't want to risk getting kicked out of the wagon company at this stage.&nbsp; Sparing a glance to Bethie and Penelope she asked, "Are you all right?"<br>
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				Title: <strong>Re: Wagon Train West (Lesbian sex, threesome)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Chrystal</strong> on <strong>21-06-2014, 21:04:01</strong>
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				<span style="font-family: Amienne;" class="bbc_font"><span style="font-size: 20pt;" class="bbc_size">Day 1, April<br><br>We have made camp at last after a horrid day spent sweltering in the wagon. Tomorrow I shall insist on a turn riding up front. It is stifling back under the canvas, The only advantage is that there is some protection from the dust, but even that gets in and gets everywhere I suppose if it rains I should be glad to be under the canvas, but it is hot this April, and muggy, and there is no air inside. Everything is in it's place and I have aranged the bedding in the wagon. It is only four foot wide in here and I fear that the three of us sleeping side by side will have little room. <br><br>I have given thought to where on the small mattress we should sleep. Bethie and Jess are supposed to be husband and wife and I their sister-in-law, so I should sleep to one side and not between them. Equally, if any were to look in and see us it would be unseemly fot the husband to be between us. I have therefore decided that I should sleep by one wall and Jess by the other and Bethie in between.<br><br>If the seseshers do not like it, they can go back South. I have seen one of the scouts eyeing me. He may be a savage, but he is more civilised that the men in the town we have left behind us. If necessary, may god forgive me, I should become his woman, for the space of the journey. But that will be my call of last resort, when all other havens are lost to me, I think.<br><br>I need to attend the meal with Beth, for I fear the woman cannot cook to save her life, and certainly not to save mine.</span></span><br><br><hr><br>Penelope stepped down from the wagon to see that someone had a cooking fire lit and a pot set over it. She suspected Jess of lighjting it, but could not be certain. She looked around but did not see ther Sesesher lady. She mmust think of her as a man, she told herself. That way there would be less likely a slip of the tongue. "Where is your husband?" she asked. <br><br>Told he was watering the oxen, Penny nodded. "Good. Let me help you." She pulled the knife from her belt that she wore now habitually, along with her husband's army colt, and began cutting up the vegetables for the stew. The gun was loaded, but she had tried pulling it from the holster and it had taken her near ten seconds to draw and aim. She had seen Jess practice with his pistol and draw in a little over tenth of that. She considered the Sesesher to be fast, although others told that there were some who could draw and fire in a tenth of that time again. She didn't believe the stories.<br><br>"Ah tell ya, that's th' whore I saw!" <br><br>Penny looked up, to see a man, bearded and tanned, with leather face and a Colt Dragoon at his left hip and a bullwhip at his right. He was talking to another man, leering and pointing at Beth.<br><br><em>Sweet Mother Of God!</em> Penny thought, eyes going wide. She turned to see how the whore was reacting to the words. <em>No, she is no whore, she is my late husband's sister!</em> That thought firmly embedded in her mind, Penny stood. She could not care less if they took the woman and tarred and feathered her, but if she were exposed as a fraud, then Jess would be exposed as a fraud too, and her own roll in the subterfuge would certainly be revealed.<br><br>"How dare yo make such accusations! You are a rogue and a scoundrel and if my husband were alive he would demand satisfaction from you!"<br><br>"Be that as it may, lady, I know what I seen and I seen her!"<br><br>"She is my late husbands sister..."<br><br>"Then your <em>late husband</em> has a whore for a sister!" Beth was getting close to panic now. A crowd was gathering, and the man was becoming louder and more confident. He stepped forward and dragged Bethie from behind the fire, thrust her towards the crowd. <br><br>Penny leapt at him, pummelling him ineffectually with her fists. "Unhand my sister-in-law, you rogue!"<br><br>The man shoved her aside so she staggered back against the wagon. "She aren't no lady I tells ya", he yelled at the frowd, the turned to Bethie, waggling a grubby finger in her face. "I know who I saw, and I say yer the same whore what was at Barber's place a' kissin' on those two other men last week."<br><br>And at that moment like an avenging angel Jess returned and smacked the man in the head with a pale full of water. It was a testament to the thickness of his scull that he was not killed outright. The man scrabbled for the heavy dragoon colt, but even as he got his hand to it there was a soft click as Jess' Remington came to full cock. "Jess, no...!" she breathed. And at that moment the wagonmaster strode up, demanding to know what was going on. <br><br>The crowd dispersed, honour was satisfied, and&nbsp; Penny breathed a sigh of relief. It was, perhaps, a little unjust that Jessie should be punished with night guard duty, but at least she had not killed a man.<br><br>"I'm okay, How about you Bethie?" She too turned with concern to the other woman. "My god, but that was close! We need to keep away from that one. I have a feeling he won't forget..."<br><br>Penny took a deep breath and settled back down, to finish making the stew. "Better fetch more water, Brother-in-law, as you used most of what you fetched defending the honour of your wife!"
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			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Wagon Train West (Lesbian sex, threesome)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Visna</strong> on <strong>22-06-2014, 03:58:30</strong>
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				<em><span style="font-family: georgia;" class="bbc_font">Day 1, April, 1866 - Bethie's diary<br><br>The ride today was dull. I sat at the front of the wagon, but there was little conversation between Jess and I. Our intimacy is all an act, but I wish one of the other women would talk more to pass the time. The scenery was mostly the same, although I look forward to newer lands. I have heard interesting things about the terrain out west.<br><br>Tonight will be our first as a group. Even though the sun will set, I must still maintain my role as a wife. Luckily, my prior occupation has allowed me to fake many things. I am not worried about holding up my own end of the agreement. Although my actions may be sinful, they are necessary for survival. I believe that God will forgive them for that very reason.<br><br>Part of me prays that my future entries will be longer. Such a future means that the days ahead are more eventful. However, I would not complain if we make it to the west without trouble, god willing.</span></em><br><br><hr><br>Bethie had been working in Missouri for some time. Although she was not an educated girl, she had a decent head on her shoulders. She knew that there was a possibility of being recognized on the wagon train. Back at home, her occupation was no secret. She had dragged along her finest attire, dresses that she previously only wore to Sunday service or weddings. It was far from her usual wear.<br><br>Nevertheless, the girl had a recognizable face. She was far prettier than most, and that made her memorable. She was looming over the fire, hard at work, when the brute approached her. Her recent job was rather effortless, but her previous work on the plantation was more demanding. It taught her how to cook and sweat.<br><br>Although she did not know much of the women, she did want to make something bearable for the group to eat. She felt as if she was doing the least amongst them, and she wanted to prove her worth. This made her concentrate on the stew. By the time she noticed the man, he had pulled her to her feet.<br><br>Bethie was wearing a sky-blue dress. It was loose in the sleeves, and white buttons traced down the chest. She wore a white bonnet and gloves. A massive bow, made of the same cloth as the dress, was tied around her hips. With her hair tied in a bun, she looked surprisingly formal. Still, it wasn't enough to give the man doubt.<br><br>It was far from the first time Bethie had been harshly grabbed by a brutish man. She had an urge to fight and beat him, but that would have simply played into his narrative. Instead, she faked a horrified expression and stood petrified in his grasp.<br><br>"Penny! Get Jess! Just get Jess!" She cried, playing the part of the helpless young wife. She was damn good at faking her feelings. As soon as the bucket collided with the man's head, Bethie slipped out of his grip and darted to Jess's side. She stayed close to her husband, but she didn't overplay her affection. She merely had to show to the group that the two were an item.<br><br>"I'm fine, thanks to you both." She said, brushing off the front of her dress. "I'll make sure the stew is delicious. You can have your fill before night falls, dearest." She turned back to the stew and continued her work. The woman didn't seem flustered in the slightest. She was still not fond of the Yankee, so she only spoke to her if she started the conversation.<br><br>
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			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Wagon Train West (Lesbian sex, threesome)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Annisthyrienne</strong> on <strong>03-07-2014, 05:01:22</strong>
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				Jess blushed a bit as the wagon master left her alone with Bethie, Penelope, and the onlooking crowd.&nbsp; Most were dispersing, but a few were casting glances back over their shoulders at the 'hot head'.&nbsp; Probably thinking of her as jealous, Jessie thought.&nbsp; But what really made her skin flush pink was the thought that in order to make it look right, she ought to put her arms around her 'wife' to make sure she was alright.&nbsp; She hesitated a moment, then impulsively reached for Bethie just as Penelope made her remark about going to fetch more water.<br><br>As a result, the half hug was awkward and seemed forced, even more so since Bethie had begun to turn back to the stew, then perhaps sensing Jessie's intention, had started to turn back.&nbsp; The whole thing turned into a sort of 'hug stutter'.&nbsp; But once committed, Jessie decided to try to make it look good, even brushing a quick peck on Bethie's forehead before turning and grabbing up the pail, heading quickly for the stream again.<br><br>Once away from the onlooking gazes of strangers, and the knowing eyes of the two women she was traveling with, Jess sank to her knees in the grass next to the stream.&nbsp; The realization of how close she had come to shooting the muleskinner, and of how they all had nearly been exposed came over her.&nbsp; She began to tremble, and put her head in her hands, rocking back and forth.&nbsp; This wasn't going to be easy.&nbsp; Of them all, she felt like she had it the hardest.&nbsp; She had to act not only like someone she wasn't, but pose as the opposite gender too!&nbsp; She couldn't give in to her feelings like this, nor to her anger like before.&nbsp; She could not be emotional like a normal woman may be.&nbsp; Instead she would have to try to be more stoic, more like a man, emotionally distant and insensitive.<br><br>In her memories, she went back to another time, recalling the camaraderie in the camps among the boys.&nbsp; They showed their feelings too, she realized, if in a different way.&nbsp; But that was war.&nbsp; It was expected that even the hardest man would be affected by those hardships and the terror, grief, and loss that war brought.&nbsp; Could she let even that much feeling show now, under these circumstances?<br><br>And what was she feeling?&nbsp; Once the fear and stress eased a bit, she realized that the other thing she felt was....pride?&nbsp; She wasn't sure she should call it that.&nbsp; But part of her felt good about protecting her companions, even if their relationship was a ruse.&nbsp; In an odd little way, it made her feel closer to Bethie, even for just having acted the part of a jealous husband.&nbsp; And even the yankee, Penelope, had a little more warmth in her voice, it seemed, when she'd spoken to Jess about the water.<br><br>Reminded, Jessie filled the bucket with fresh clear water, and started back up to the wagon, glancing over to the oxen to make sure they were okay.&nbsp; She wasn't sure how long the watch would last, but she figured she'd have plenty of time to think about things then.&nbsp; Returning to the wagon, Jess delivered the water and hurriedly ate a bowl of stew when it was ready.&nbsp; Bethie wasn't too bad of a cook, Jessie thought as she ate.&nbsp; It might not have been the finest fare she'd had, but certainly not the worst either, and it was hot and filling at the end of a long day.&nbsp; That mattered the most.<br><br>As she ate, her eyes followed Bethie as she moved around the campfire.&nbsp; She didn't seem to have the look that Jessie would have attributed to most whores.&nbsp; If anything, she looked like a fresh faced farm girl.&nbsp; Jessie imagined she could find the same face on half a dozen of the other women in the wagon train, wives and daughters of the men traveling west. <br><br>'But Bethie is my wife.&nbsp; I'm lucky to have her.'&nbsp; <br><br>The thought hit her out of the blue, and she found it so shocking that she nearly dropped the spoon she was eating with.&nbsp; Jessie could feel the blush creeping up her cheeks again, so she quickly finished and grabbed her rifle, nodded to her companions and excused herself to head to the lead wagon for her assignment.<br><br>++++++++++++++++++++<br><br>Jessie carried her Henry as she walked quietly along the line of wagons.&nbsp; Everywhere she passed, the campfires were dwindling, people were putting away the last of their belongings and preparing for sleep.&nbsp; It had been a long day, and it would begin another long day in the morning.&nbsp; Lanterns were lit within the covered framework of the wagons she passed, showing the shadows of the occupants as they readied themselves for bed.&nbsp; Jessie sensed an overall mood of excitement, and tired satisfaction, mixed with the anticipation of the journey ahead.<br><br>She walked along, listening to the night descending on the countryside.&nbsp; Crickets sang their incessant melody.&nbsp; In the distance, she could hear the steady thrumming of tree frogs and even the lighter sound of 'Spring peepers'.&nbsp; It reminded her of her former home in Georgia.&nbsp; She mused sadly that she might never see it again.&nbsp; Her thoughts turned to all that had happened since the day she left Greenbriar behind.&nbsp; From the day that she set out by riverboat down the Coosa, heading for the Gulf and eventually the Mississippi, all the way until Bethie had run in to that hotel cafe, looking for help, someone to hide her away or help her get out of town.&nbsp; Jessie relived it all.<br><br>She didn't even know what made her want to help the prostitute.&nbsp; She told herself that it was just in their mutual interest, and that they happened to be going the same way, but she knew that wasn't all of it.&nbsp; She could have posed as a man on her own, or perhaps could have ended up traveling with the Yankee woman somehow.&nbsp; But it had been Bethie.<br><br>Jess realized that her thought had once again come around to the woman posing as her wife.&nbsp; And she realized something else too.&nbsp; There was a new addition to the night sounds.<br><br>As Jessie patrolled along the line of wagons, many of them dimly lit from within by candle or lantern light, she could hear the sounds of intimacy and passion rising in the form of whispered sighs and breathless moans, carnal grunts and groans.&nbsp; Wagon after wagon she passed, and it seemed that in just about every other one, the occupants were 'celebrating' their first night on the trail. <br><br>Jessie blushed as she met the silent gaze of a pair of young girls, waiting patiently outside the wagon they shared with their parents while their mother and father, presumably, carried on inside.&nbsp; Sometimes her patrol would take her past the rear of the wagons, and she could catch a glimpse inside.&nbsp; Quick stolen glances of men and women too, nude and caught up in a lover's embrace.&nbsp; In other places, the scene played out in shadow puppet form, projected on the canvas coverings of the wagons.<br><br>It all began to have it's effect on her.&nbsp; Oh how long had it been since she'd felt the arms of her husband's wrapped around her?&nbsp; Josiah had been dead nearly three years, and gone to the army two years before that.&nbsp; She'd tried to remain true, even to his memory since his death.&nbsp; But now, she imagined she could even still feel the pressure on her lips where she'd brushed them on Bethie's forehead earlier.&nbsp; Even so chaste and simple a contact seemed to enflame her senses now.<br><br>Jessie didn't remember much of the rest of her watch, only vague impressions of a rough and unsavory man nudging her and winking conspiratorially, and the many fevered stimuli of her senses as the wagon train's company celebrated into the night.&nbsp; By the time she was relieved and allowed to go to her own wagon, she was quite unsettled in her thoughts and aroused in her body.&nbsp; She paused at the back of her own wagon, now dark within, knowing that inside lay two women she barely knew, and yet she was supposed to be married to one of them, supposed to act the part of a husband.<br><br>As she hesitated before climbing inside, the rough looking man passed, giving her a broad toothless grin and another suggestive wink.&nbsp; "I caught a look-see at thet purty li'l un you got waitin' fer ye earlier tonight.&nbsp; Y'er a lucky feller!" <br><br>Jessie blushed deeply, thankful for the dark surrounding her, and quickly hoisted herself into the wagon, if for no other reason than to get away from the man's lewd suggestive stare.&nbsp; Once inside, she found she could barely see.&nbsp; Vaguely she recalled Penelope's earlier suggestion as to how they should sleep, while she'd been eating her supper.&nbsp; But her thoughts had been on other things and she hadn't paid much attention.&nbsp; She only remembered that she was supposed to sleep next to Bethie, since they were posing as a couple.&nbsp; And now, with the crude man just outside, Jessie supposed she was expected to do more than just sleep next to her pretty young wife.<br><br>She deliberately undressed in the dark.&nbsp; She was determined not to offer any sort of show like the ones she's seen passing the other wagons, especially if the man was still lurking out there.&nbsp; The wrong view could spell disaster for their little plan.&nbsp; Jessie knelt at the end of the mattress they had laid out to sleep on.&nbsp; She slipped off the trousers that belonged to Penelope's late husband, and then paused.&nbsp; She could barely make out the two sleeping forms on the mattress.&nbsp; Now which side was she supposed to sleep on?<br><br>As she studied on it, it seemed that there was a bit more room on one side of the mattress, and she thought the other women must have been saving that spot for her.&nbsp; She crawled up and took her place, laying on her side in a sort of spooning position.&nbsp; There was little space available, so it's the only way she could think of.&nbsp; But even so, it pressed her close against the warm body beside her, and the sounds and images that had been impressed on her mind earlier came back to her in force.&nbsp; <br><br>Without thinking, she let her hand stray along the curve of a hip in front of her, fingers trailing over womanly flesh, then back up to a slender waist, and along an arm.&nbsp; She lifted her hand to gently lift aside soft tresses, and impulsively placed a kiss on the nape of a warm neck, her breath washing over the skin hotly as she whispered, "Bethie, are you awake?&nbsp; It's Jessie."&nbsp; She continued to kiss along the graceful neck, waiting for a response.<br>
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			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Wagon Train West (Lesbian sex, threesome)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Chrystal</strong> on <strong>03-07-2014, 17:22:40</strong>
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				It was over and fortunately was resolved without bloodshed. Penny knew that if she ever encountered any of the thugs who had murdered her man, she would kill them without a second thought and hang for the consequences if she had to. <em>An eye for an eye and a life for a life.</em> She watched, slightly amused, the awkward attempt at affection between the two sesesher women. As Jess went off to fetch more water, she smiled at Beth. "You're a lucky woman to have such a fine man". <br><br>There was just the tiniest hint of sarcasm in her voice, but in truth she was impressed by the way Jess had acted. The Southern lady had managed to establish that the three were not to be messed with, and had managed to do so without killing anyone, barely. Gaining a reputation as a hot-head may be no bad thing, she felt. at least people would think before challenging them if her - No, <em>his</em> reputation was such that the challenge could end in gun play.<br><br>Over supper she tried to explain the sleeping arrangements she proposed, with herself on one side, Jess on the other, and Bethie in the middle, but it seemed that the other two were somewhat distracted. The stew was surprisingly good and Penny complemented Bethie on it, regretting her earlier comments in her private journal. She would see about correcting that later.<br><br><hr><br><span style="font-family: Amienne;" class="bbc_font"><span style="font-size: 20pt;" class="bbc_size">It seems I have done both my companions an injustice. Bethie's cooking is easily the equal of my own. Jess acted with bravery today. Whether from true nobility of spirit or from a desire not to be exposed, I know not, but her defence of Beth's honour was worthy of praise none the less. I am thinking that perhaps the company I am keeping is not so evil as I first thought.</span></span><br><br>The back flap of the wagon lifted and Penny closed her journal, setting the pen down and capping the bottle of ink. She stowed all away as Beth entered the wagon. Penny was already in her night shirt and had the lantern lit to help as she wrote in the gathering dusk, She turned the light low so as not to cas a silhouette of her "sister in law" to any watching outside as the younger woman undressed.<br><br>"I will sleep here, Jess will sleep there and you sleep between us. This way if any should notice, they would not think it unseemly." She shrugged. How likely it was that someone would enter the wagon unbidden she did not know. She had her pistol nearby loaded and ready, close to hand, just in case.<br><br>She settled down to sleep, with Bethie's back pressed close against her own to leave room for Jess. It had been a long tiring day, and as the fire outside died down to embers and the last of the setting sun vanished from the sky, Penny fell into a deep and untroubled sleep, comforted by the warmth of another human being sleeping close in a way that had not been for several days.<br><br>When it was that the contact vanished, she could not say. She half awoke, feeling the absence as she had that first night she slept alone. But no, there was someone in the bed with her. Still mostly asleep, she rolled over, murmured "Joseph", and fell back to sleep again, an arm draped loosely across the body. <br><br>At first the hand on her hip didn't wake her, the soft hand caressing her flesh invaded her dreams. the kiss on the nape of her neck brought her partly concious. The smell of her husband was in the wagon with her, and for a moment, a magical moment, loosing him had all just been one horrible nightmare.<br><br>"Joseph", she mumbled, turning towards the man behind her, gathering him into her arms, pressing her lips to his. Her hands began exploring his body, her left hand on his firm, manly chest, her right heading south in search of his erection...<br><br>"Oh!" She gasped in shock, as wakefulness hit her. "Jessie, what are you doing!" She hissed, struggling out of his - <em>HER</em> embrace, catching Beth in the ribs with an elbow by accident as she did. "I'm Penelope, not Beth, and besides that, you Sesesher women have some <em>real</em> strange ways of behaving, if you was planning what I think you was planning!"
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			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Wagon Train West (Lesbian sex, threesome)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Annisthyrienne</strong> on <strong>15-07-2014, 03:11:02</strong>
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				((I know it's Visna's turn to post, but this has been gnawing at me in my mind and I just have to get it out.&nbsp; I hope you don't mind, V.&nbsp; It will give you a little more to respond to perhaps.))<br><br>Jessie hadn't expected the amorous response she got.&nbsp; The woman next to her responded by turning towards her and kissing her, wrapping her arms around her, and then going further to grope at her breasts and reach down under the man's shirt she wore to touch her 'down there'.&nbsp; She made a little squeak of protest but it was stifled by the kiss.&nbsp; Despite her reticence at being kissed so passionately by the person she thought was a whore, Jessie felt tingles and a warm flush rising quickly up inside her, like butterflies in her stomach, but it felt good.<br><br>Then it all went wrong as Penelope awoke and accused her of a dubious carnal intention.&nbsp; The Yankee woman's voice, though still a whisper, seemed to carry loudly to Jessie's ears, and knowing the scruffy fellow was probably still outside listening, she felt a pang of fear stab through her again.&nbsp; Reacting quickly, she grabbed Penelope's wrist in one hand, covering her mouth with the other as she scrambled on top of her to hold her down to keep her from struggling.&nbsp; The tussle caused Jessie to end up laying between Penelope's legs, with her body atop the other woman, a hand clamped over her mouth, and holding her wrist above her head, pinned to the mattress.<br><br>Jessie's mouth was close to Penelope's ear as she hissed in a quieter whisper, "Hush, woman!&nbsp; There's a man outside who can hear us!&nbsp; You'll give the whole thing away!&nbsp; Besides, you ain't sleeping where you're supposed to.&nbsp; It was supposed to be Beth in the middle.&nbsp; And what do you mean about us 'Sesesher women'?&nbsp; It was you Yankees who was fighting for union, after all.&nbsp; I was just trying to make a good show of it for our unwelcome audience.&nbsp; Everybody in the wagon train is going at each other, and have been all evening.&nbsp; It would seem out of place if nothing was going on here."<br>
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			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Wagon Train West (Lesbian sex, threesome)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Visna</strong> on <strong>24-07-2014, 05:48:40</strong>
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				Bethie had made a living feigning love, but it was apparent to her that Jessie had not. The kiss on her forehead was weak and awkward, but the whore strengthened it with her reaction. She delicately raised her hand, as if blood had rushed to her cheeks and she wished to hide it. She forced her eyes to glimmer, as she had many times in the past, and bashfully turned her gaze downward.<br><br>Once Jessie had departed, she returned her attention fully to cooking. During dinner, she spoke little. The Yankee spoke to her a little, and she gave simple responses in return. She was never cold to the woman, but she was also not welcoming to her.<br><br>After dinner was over, Bethie retired to the wagon. She wrote in her diary for some time, recording the wild events that had transpired. With little else to do, she undressed into her nightgown and went to sleep.<br><br>It was her sleeping habits that caused the entire ordeal. Although the two women had went to sleep with their backs together, Bethie had rolled to the other side of the slender cart. This left an ambiguous space in between them. Being a heavy sleeper, it was only the elbow of Penelope that awakened her.<br><br>She groaned, clutching at her ribs. In the darkness, she listened to the two shoot back at one another. Confronted with the decision to side with one of the women over the other, Bethie chose to stand with Jessie. Her reasoning was simple. It was not because the two were faking a marriage, but because Penelope was a Yankee. Bethie would never side with a Yankee over a true southerner.<br><br>"Whoa, stop!" She whispered. There was a harsh tone to her voice, almost like an erupting flame. She was a bit grumpy, having been awoken from a rather pleasant slumber. Unlike the other women, she has not haunted by memories of a lost loved one. <br><br>Bethie hated Yankees as much as the next southerner, but she wanted to quell the argument before any real turmoil arose. "Both of you, quiet." She placed her hands on Jessie's shoulders and eased the two away from each other. She pointed outside, where vague shadows and noises of roaming men could be heard. "Simple mistake. That's all. Back to sleep."<br><br>She wasn't used to being the voice of reason. In fact, she considered herself immature and unfit to really lead anybody. But, in that moment, she simply acted as she saw fit.<br><br>She reclined back onto the wood, pulling Jessie down with her. She brought the female impostor's ear to her lips. "You know my past. No amount of groping and fake moaning will bother me. Just let her be. You're in the right." She eased a hand through Jessie's hair, in case anybody was watching their&nbsp; shadows outside. "You have to lead..." She muttered, turning onto her side for Jessie to lay behind her.
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			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Wagon Train West (Lesbian sex, threesome)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Chrystal</strong> on <strong>29-07-2014, 12:21:18</strong>
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			<dd class="postbody">
				The hand clasped over her mouth and the whispered words, almost made Penelope panic. And then Jessie was between her legs, lying atop her, and Penny had a sudden memory flash:<br><br><em>It had been their wedding night. Joseph and Penelope had married in a splendid ceremony in the church. But Joseph was still apprenticed to the Master Farrier, Old Jebediah Kendrik, and Penelope still lived with her Ma and Pa. Penny was just seventeen, Joseph eighteen, the wedding had been sanctioned by both their parents as a match, and the fact that they were in love was, frankly, irrelevant.<br><br>And now, on their wedding night, Joseph had led young Penny to the loft he slept in above the forge. A small cramped space, and on the other side of a thin wooden partition, Old Jeb was snoring away. Jeb was a widower these past five years, and had no mind (so he said) to take on another mare at his time of life. <br><br>The two had undressed as quietly as they could, but when Joseph had lain atop Penny and she had felt his manhood she couldn't resist a soft cry of surprise. "Oh my! Joseph", she whispered, "It's so big, how is it ever going to fit?" Penny was a virgin of course, as was Joseph, but the two of them were farm bred and raised around horses, dogs and cattle. They knew what went where, they were just inexperienced.<br><br>Penny had used her hand to guide Joseph's male member into her womanhood, causing him to sigh softly with pleasure. But then she hit an obstruction. Her maidenhead was still intact, and she could feel pain as her new husband pushed against it. "Oh... Oh Joseph, it hurts, it's tearing m-UMPH!" Her voice had become louder and Joseph, hearing the snores from the other side of the partition stutter had pressed a warm, gentle but firm hand over her mouth. <br><br>He thrust hard suddenly and Penny let out a muffled squeal of pain into the palm of his hand, which rappidly became a sigh of pure bliss. And so it had been every night from then on, until Old Jeb passed away and left the forge to "The quietest newly-weds ever" - according to the wording of his will.</em><br><br>Memory rolled over her. The person on top of her smelled like Joseph, and was behaving like Joseph. Penny's hips reacted the way they always had, pressing up against the body that lay between them.<br><br>And then another voice intervened, that of a Missouri woman Sesesher, hands easd them apart, and Penelope, disgusted with herself for allowing memories to trick her so, rolled away from&nbsp; them both, saying not another word. In truth, she missed Joseph terribly. Missed his strong arms around her, missed his warm mouth on hers and his hard maleness inside her.<br><br>And then the two of them started making noises. Penny could not tell whether they were faked or genuine, but the wagon rocked slightly to their movements. Penny groaned softly and slipped a hand between her thighs in a way she had not done for years, finding her own sensitive places and touching them, hoping for some relief from the burning, sinful lust that she now felt.<br><br>
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			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Wagon Train West (Lesbian sex, threesome)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Annisthyrienne</strong> on <strong>01-08-2014, 04:31:08</strong>
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			<dd class="postbody">
				In the recent struggle between the Northern and Southern states it was often said by members of the Yankee press that were it not for the hot blooded temperaments of their Southern brethren, the whole affair might have been settled peaceably.&nbsp; Even Southerners would admit that they were all too quick to 'get their blood up', having a measure of passion in nearly everything they did, and taking no small amount of pride in it as well.<br><br>Jessie's blood was up.&nbsp; She'd been exposed to....well, 'exposed' members of the wagon train the entire time she had been on watch, and had been treated to quite a carnal show.&nbsp; And it had been a long time since she had enjoyed her own husband's attentions.&nbsp; As a result, although her face flushed hot with the sinful suggestion the Yankee woman implied as to her intentions, she was feeling quite aroused, even at the notion that she was supposed to be 'faking a show' with the other woman sharing the bed.&nbsp; As she lay between Penelope's spread legs, she became all too aware of her exact positioning, and her face flushed hot with the blush that rose to paint her cheeks in the darkness.<br><br>In the silent moment between when she'd finished her urgent whisper in the ear of the recently widowed woman, and the moment when her other companion admonished them to be quiet and gently separated the two of them, Jessie's breathing told the tale of her excitement that even she wasn't ready to acknowledge.&nbsp; And then just before Bethie intervened, Jessie felt distinctly the hips and pelvis below her rise up to increase the contact between them.&nbsp; The sound she made in response was partly a gasp of surprise, partly a moan of need at the pleasurable contact. <br><br>But the sound was all but lost in the words of her 'wife', urging her to let it go.&nbsp; Confused about just what it was that she was feeling, Jessie let herself be guided away without resistance.&nbsp; Bethie's gentle but firm hand on her shoulders brought to Jessie's mind the awkward attempt to kiss her earlier in the evening, and the resulting look on Beth's face.&nbsp; She had no experience with whores, and for all she knew, the look she'd received had been a genuine display of feeling for what she'd done to defend the younger woman.&nbsp; That look hadn't been far from Jessie's thoughts all evening.<br><br>And then the quietly spoken words as Beth's hand slid through her hair: "You have to lead..."&nbsp; Once again, Jessie's heart raced in her chest, and her breathing increased apace.&nbsp; What did it mean?&nbsp; Was Beth saying she shouldn't be arguing with the Yankee woman because she should lead the three of them as the 'man'?&nbsp; Or was the meaning more personal, as in she should take the lead in engaging in their amorous deception?&nbsp; <br><br>Jessie had to climb over Beth's body to get on the side she was supposed to be sleeping, away from Penelope, and in the process, she paused once again just as she was straddling the younger woman's body.&nbsp; She leaned down to whisper in Beth's ear, "I thought to make a show of....well, of making love to you.&nbsp; You know, just to further the act of us being husband and wife.&nbsp; Just play along and make some noises.&nbsp; I'll make the wagon shake and rock.&nbsp; Anybody listening or watching will think we're, uh, going at it, you know?"<br><br>Jessie lowered her voice an octave, and raised the volume, giving out what she hoped would sound like a manly groan of pleasure as she hovered over Beth's prone form.&nbsp; Adding a couple heaving sighs for emphasis, she began to slowly rock fore and aft over Beth's body, as if simulating the motion of a man having sex with his wife.&nbsp; She wanted the wagon's movement to look realistic to any outside observer.&nbsp; <br><br>As Beth joined the charade with her own sounds of passion, Jessie had to admit the prostitute was really selling the performance.&nbsp; Her heated moans and soft sighing cries, passionate whimpers, and whines even began to convince Jessie's body that they were doing more than what she knew they actually were.&nbsp; At first, her own moans, grunting, and play acting had been an equal part of the sounds emanating from the wagon.&nbsp; But as Bethie really began to perform her act, Jessie found herself listening, entranced every bit as much as any witness outside the wagon.<br><br>The sounds were stirring up the recent memories of the sights and sounds she'd witnessed earlier in the evening, and soon it was all running together in her mind: naked bodies entwined in each others' arms, moans and cries and heated carnal grunting, the sounds and smell of sex in the night air, Bethie's emotion filled eyes looking at her after their kiss, (which now seemed much more romantic and successful in Jessie's memory than it had at the time.) Pennie's hips thrusting the heat of her body up into Jessie's groin, and Bethie's moans and sounds of passion!&nbsp; Jessie's rocking motions had stopped, and her body lowered astraddle Bethie's as she just stopped and listened, all her thoughts running wild with all the stimuli of the evening having it's effect on her.<br><br>Her eyes had adjusted to the darkness within the wagon now, and she could make out Beth's form below her, see the tossing head, feel her squirming slightly under her.&nbsp; Jessie felt a sudden hot flush course through her and impulsively, she leaned down and captured Beth's lips in a heated, hungry kiss, letting her body lower to rest on top of another woman's for the second time that night.&nbsp; The kiss squelched the sounds Bethie was making in mid-moan, but the feeling of soft lips crushing against hers after so long inspired Jessie to take up the sound where Bethie left off.&nbsp; She moaned into the kiss, "Mmmm!" and let her eyes close to concentrate on the feeling stirring within her.&nbsp; <br><br>Now it was her turn to let her hips respond to the urges she was feeling, and she rolled her pelvis in a slow grind against the body of the woman under her, deepening the kiss.&nbsp; 'What am I doing?' her mind screamed at her.&nbsp; But her body only knew to respond to what it was feeling, and she didn't want to stop now that she'd started.&nbsp; <br><br>Her hand slipped under the blanket, running up along Beth's arm to her face to cup and caress her cheek tenderly in the palm of her hand as she kissed her, then began to glide slowly back down Beth's body.&nbsp; Soon Jessie felt the warm swell of a breast beneath her palm, and her fingers closed in a gentle squeeze.&nbsp; How odd it felt to be feeling something so familiar, yet so different at the same time, the landscape the same, but the perspective of experiencing it from the one doing the feeling instead of the one being felt.&nbsp; Yet it did feel good, and much to Jessie's surprise, she found it gave her a certain thrill to know she was touching another so intimately, even another woman.&nbsp; Perhaps especially because it was another woman.&nbsp; <br><br>For the moment, Jessie forgot she was only pretending to be a man.<br>
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Wagon Train West (Lesbian sex, threesome)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Visna</strong> on <strong>13-08-2014, 20:17:41</strong>
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			<dd class="postbody">
				Beth's grin was partially hidden by the darkness of the wagon. As Jessie straddled over her, making her transition to the opposite side of the interior, she began to explain her plan. Bethie had struggled with the morality of her occupation for many months, and she recognized a similar feeling within Jessie's voice. Her companion was trying to reconcile her deeds and emotions. Bethie took note of it, but she knew it was a struggle best dealt with alone.<br><br>"Yes, that sounds fine." She nodded. Her tone was neutral, poking fun at Jessie's bland way of describing her idea. As Jessie began to situate herself back on the floorboards, Bethie leaned over while the woman wasn't looking and whispered. "Be a bit rough. Shake and rock, right? That's what men do." The night brought out a playful side of her. It was an ego that had been ignited by her work, although she still repressed it throughout most of the day.<br><br>She rolled back onto her stomach, and Jessie eased slightly over her. She had to resist giggling as her companion let out a gruff groan. Although it was good enough to deceive people outside of the wagon, Bethie saw the many flaws in it. After all, she had heard many men sing in her days.<br><br>Bethie was a follower of the Lord, but she was also able to block out her morality and live in the moment. Being a whore, it was practically a necessity. Unlike many women, Bethie was not repulsed by the idea of bedding another woman. It was odd to her, but there was a hint of curiosity. <br><br>Since the sex was not real, she was able to keep a thought. Inwardly, she found it amusing that Jessie's thrusts were stronger than some men that she had slept with. She played the part in response. Each time Jessie fell forward upon her body, she faked a moan or sigh that sounded like that of an angel. Even if an outsider happened to doubt the sounds of the man for a second, they would not do the same for Bethie's chorus. She noticed that Jessie began to act and work less, but she did not mind. Halfway through the act, she rolled onto her backside to simulate the shifting of passion.<br><br>Even Bethie did not see the turn of events coming. For the most part, the two had simply been grinding against one another. There was no touch of skin or penetration, and so Bethie's arousal was capped at a slightly low level. She did enjoy it, but it was not love.<br><br>The kiss struck her like a hammer. Her eyes, which had been growing a bit weary, sparked open. By nature, a whore was supposed to always respond to a kiss. This habit overcame her, and she found her tongue mingling with that of the other woman. It cut off the girl's chorus, overtaking it with a bridge that consisted of suckling and Jessie's renewed vigor. Bethie felt her body shifting, giving way to the "man" above her. It was another habit. Her legs opened wider apart without her even noticing.<br><br>Movement began again, but it was different this time around. The thrusting was not mindless, and it was aimed with a different precision. This time, they were moving as two women. Jessie aimed to please both of them, and Beth found a feeling of her own building inside of her. Surprisingly, there were no cries for Jessie to stop. Instead, the young woman grew quite silent besides a few moans from the friction. Her noises sounded no different, mostly due to the real sounds of her acting.<br><br>The touch of Jessie's hand to her cheek felt different than that of a man. It was gentler yet no less controlling. As their lips continued to tremble together, Bethie felt the hand glide down to her chest. It slid underneath the nightgown and squeezed the flesh, causing Bethie to writhe underneath the larger body. For a moment, she cut away from the kiss and leaned forward toward Jessie's ear. "Oh, darling... Please don't stop." It was impossible to tell if the request was genuine or a ruse.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Wagon Train West (Lesbian sex, threesome)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Annisthyrienne</strong> on <strong>25-08-2014, 13:38:40</strong>
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			<dd class="postbody">
				(((((<strong><span style="font-size: 14pt;" class="bbc_size">OOC discussion thread (https://elliquiy.com/forums/index.php?topic=212018.new#new)</span></strong>)))))<br><br><br>Jessie was surprised as Beth's lips parted and her tongue made contact.&nbsp; But the surprise barely had time to register before the accompanying pleasure also registered, and her long denied libido screamed for more.&nbsp; She opened up then, truly committed.&nbsp; The voice inside her head telling her it was wrong to be doing this with another woman - never mind another woman who was also a whore by trade - was getting harder and harder to pay attention to.<br><br>Jessie's hips continued to press her fevered loins into the warm body below her, and she felt Bethie shift to make their contact even more intimate.&nbsp; It wasn't quite what Jessie was trying to do.&nbsp; In truth she herself didn't know exactly what she was trying to do.&nbsp; She was only moving her hips on instinct, following the movements of the oldest dance by sheer chance, seeking to quench the need she felt so keenly.&nbsp; But then Beth's passionate sounding encouragement sounded so close to her ear, the warm breath that delivered it puffing softly and tickling her neck.&nbsp; It was like a spur to a horse for Jessie.&nbsp; <br><br>As their bodies shifted and squirmed together, two things were happening at once.&nbsp; The man's shirt that Jessie was still wearing to sleep in was riding up on her hips, and so was Beth's nightgown.&nbsp; More and more of her bare skin began to come into contact with that of the woman under her.&nbsp; Jessie found she sought and craved that contact with warm bare flesh even more.&nbsp; She began to rub the instep of her foot along Beth's calf, inadvertently entwining her legs with Beth's.&nbsp; Mindful that their clothes were riding up and leaving more of each of them exposed, she supported herself on her elbow enough to make sure the blanket was pulled over both of them to protect their modesty from anyone who might get a glance in passing.&nbsp; But this had the effect of tugging some of it off of Penelope, or at least jostling her for possession of it.<br><br>Jessie didn't care.&nbsp; She was enjoying the most amazing kissing, and her body was responding on it's own.&nbsp; Her hands were busy now that the initial shyness about touching another woman's breast so intimately had been overcome.&nbsp; Now she was assertively squeezing and kneading Beth's tender flesh and enjoying it.&nbsp; She wasn't sure what she should be doing really; she was not a man and couldn't please a woman the way a man would.&nbsp; This caused an awkward momentary pause between kisses, but her hips didn't stop moving.&nbsp; Whatever she was doing felt good to her, and as she moved, she began to feel as though Beth's nightgown was getting wet in exactly the spot she was rubbing against.<br><br>At first she was mortified that she'd made it wet from rubbing herself on Bethie so lewdly.&nbsp; Jessie paused in confusion, trying to remember back to the crude talk around the camp's fires back in Georgia with the boys in Johnston's army.&nbsp; There had been plenty of lurid stories passed around between lonely men far from their homes, each one telling what they'd most like to be doing and with whom back home.&nbsp; Now Jessie tried to recall any details that she'd overheard that might tell her how to go about pleasing a woman.<br><br>Despite the fact that Bethie was a whore and had probably had more men than she could count, it somehow made Jessie want to please her all the more.&nbsp; Maybe it was a point of pride with her or something.&nbsp; Maybe it was because she was taking this 'husband' thing far too seriously.&nbsp; Or maybe it had been the memory of the way Beth had looked at her earlier in the evening or the hot little whisper she'd just offered.&nbsp; But whatever it was, Jessie began to despair of knowing what to do to give her 'wife' the pleasure she wanted to make her feel.<br><br>Then it suddenly dawned upon her that she was a woman too.&nbsp; All she had to do was to do the things that she'd liked to have her husband do to her when he was alive.&nbsp; Suddenly Jessie's hand slid from Beth's breast down over her warm tummy, and then the fingers delved lower, dipping up under the hem of the nightgown and along Bethie's thigh, and up through the curly blonde thatch, finding that moist triangle of warmth.&nbsp; At that first touch, Jessie began to realize that it might not have been her own moisture that had made the gown wet.&nbsp; But it didn't matter now.&nbsp; Unlike the clumsy fumbling that even her husband had done to her, Jessie's nimble fingers could tell what was what even in the dark, and she wasted no time touching and rubbing Bethie like she, herself, liked to be touched and fondled.<br><br>The shirt she was wearing had ridden up around her hips, leaving her bare below.&nbsp; And with her hand up under Beth's nightgown, the hem of it was also up high enough to expose Beth's thighs.&nbsp; Now Jessie found that contact against that warm soft skin with her nethers felt irresistibly good, and her hips moved once again in that slow grinding rhythm.&nbsp; Meanwhile, she put her lips to good use, kissing along Beth's clavicle just at the neckline of the gown.&nbsp; She mixed the soft kisses with gentle nibbles, careful not to break the skin with her teeth, but firmly enough to scrape and make it exciting.<br><br>Jessie thought she ought to say something, but she didn't know what to say that wouldn't give herself away to anyone who might overhear.&nbsp; She wanted to moan or at least tell Bethie how good it felt to be doing this.&nbsp; But what did men say during....well, during sex, she wondered.&nbsp; Her Josiah had never been the talkative sort, and for the life of her now, she could not recall a single thing he'd ever said to her while they had been making love.&nbsp; Before, or after, certainly; he'd shower her with compliments or whisper what a fine woman she was, or some such thing.&nbsp; But during the act itself, never a word.&nbsp; Jessie realized only now that she'd missed it.&nbsp; She determined that she'd try to do better by her 'wife'.<br><br>Remembering to slip into a lower register with her voice, Jessie spoke quietly into Beth's ear, "You feel so warm and soft, Bethie.&nbsp; You make me feel....uh....mighty good!" Inwardly, Jessie groaned.&nbsp; She felt so stupid for saying that.&nbsp; How she wished she could just say what she wanted to say: that this was an amazing experience she'd never forget, even if it might be wrong; that it felt so odd, but so very good to be touching another woman this way.&nbsp; And she wanted to urge Beth to touch her too.&nbsp; But she dared not say any of that.&nbsp; Instead she simply laid her cheek against Bethie's breast and listened to the patter of the young woman's heart and kept slipping her fingers in and out of those warm slick folds hoping it felt as good to Bethie as it used to feel to her.<br>
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			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Wagon Train West (Lesbian sex, threesome)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Visna</strong> on <strong>16-09-2014, 00:28:51</strong>
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			<dd class="postbody">
				The thump of Jessie's hips against her body maintained a steady rhythm. As the routine continued, Bethie found herself growing more and more accustomed to their movements. Skin came into contact with skin, creating a damp friction between them. She began to realize that their moment was no different than her typical occupation. Both acts were sinful, consisting of premarital sex. They were both for selfish goals, either money or escaping from the law. And neither was done out of true love. Was there any real blasphemy in the addition of another sin: the fact that her partner was a woman? The fire was already burning; additional fuel mattered little.<br><br>Beth was used to taking all sorts of roles in bed: the woman in charge, the immobile body, the submissive cub. Her goal was always to please her client, and this mentality stretched into her current bed. As they continued to grind against one another, Bethie paid close attention to Jessie. She believed that a person's true self was apparent during sex. Watching Jessie recover them in the blanket, Beth knew that the woman had a compassionate side.<br><br>She noticed the subtle differences between Jessie's hand and those of the many men that had defiled her. It was far more gentle, and Beth was quite fond of it. However, even she grew tense as the digits traced down her nightgown. She held doubt that Jessie would even go through with it, but all of that was erased as the soft fingers grazed across her sex.<br><br>A groan escaped her lips; it was loud enough to be heard outside. She grew worried and anxious, but then she remembered that, to outsiders, it would simply sound normal. An inviting smile formed, and her arms tugged Jessie closer to her warm body.<br><br>Jessie was certainly no man. Her fingers were soft, although Bethie felt a few days worth of dirt and roughness that were beginning to congregate. "Y-you never told me you were this good." She whispered. It was the first time in ages that Bethie felt truly weak. Jessie was not simply playing the role; she was living it. Teeth scraped against skin. Bethie found herself moaning without consciously planning each syllable. She outstretched her body and neck, giving herself fully to the man on top.<br><br>Beth had to resist a giggle as Jessie began to fall more fully into her character. "Oh, Jessie. Oh, oh, oh, Jessie..." She chirped in response, deciding to do the same. Her folds had grown especially damp, and her thighs spread apart to give Jessie room to manipulate her fingers to the fullest extent. One hand pulled the covers closer to them, while the other began to trickle down Jessie's side. She poked gently against the woman's hip. She desired deeply to return the favor, but she was not confident enough that it was what Jessie wanted.<br><br>"Oh, darling..." Her eyes, even in the darkness, could be seen staring into Jessie's. Her words did not match the stare. She seemed to be daring Jessie to take things further. "Get out of your clothes, my love..." This time, her words sounded to be entirely her own.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Wagon Train West (Lesbian sex, threesome)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Annisthyrienne</strong> on <strong>23-09-2014, 14:50:13</strong>
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			<dd class="postbody">
				<em>"Y-you never told me you were this good." </em><br><br>Beth's softly murmured words took Jessie a little by surprise, and for a moment, she didn't know what to say, but she blurted out the first thing that came to her mind.&nbsp; "I'm only just findin' out myself, Darling." She caught herself, having forgotten to force her voice to a lower register, but hoped that she hadn't said it loud enough to be heard much beyond their wagon.<br><br>Despite her verbal indication of her uncertainty, it seemed as though Beth was responding to what her fingers were doing, and Jessie sighed with satisfaction that she seemed to be doing it right.&nbsp; Beth's thighs parted, adding her own silent testament to her enjoyment. <br><br>Encouraged, Jessie slowed her rhythmic thrusting and slipped another finger inside the snug wet passage.&nbsp; She hoped it wasn't too much, but after all, a man's member would have been bigger still, presumably, and Bethie had no doubt had her share of those, Jessie thought.&nbsp; For all that, the younger woman was still snug inside, and Jessie had to admit to a certain thrill at the thought that she was actually putting her fingers inside another woman.<br><br>Her wrist was starting to hurt holding it in her current position, pushing her fingers in and down, so she turned her hand over, palm upwards instead.&nbsp; The heel of her palm now rested on Bethie's pubic arch, and her first two fingers were curling upwards when she pushed them inside.&nbsp; Jessie continued to grind herself on Beth's soft thigh until her 'wife' suggested she take off the shirt she'd been using as a night shirt.&nbsp; Jessie paused, considering the consequences.&nbsp; She had nothing on underneath the garment except for a pair of socks and the length of cloth they'd used to bind her breasts.&nbsp; If anyone looked into the wagon, it was possible they would see she was a woman.&nbsp; Jessie hesitated.<br><br>But the lure of enjoying even closer intimacy with the younger woman beneath her was strong, and she cast a nervous glance out the back of the wagon.&nbsp; Maybe if she stayed under the blanket, no one would see anything they shouldn't.&nbsp; Jessie decided to risk it.&nbsp; She raised up, and impulsively kissed Beth on the lips again, this time without any hesitation.&nbsp; Her fingers slipped out of the warm sheath they'd occupied, and she hastily unbuttoned the shirt without breaking the kiss.&nbsp; At last she was shrugging it off, and resuming her place on top of Beth, this time lying with both legs between Beth's.&nbsp; She tossed the shirt carelessly aside, not realizing it landed on Penelope.<br><br>Jessie moved up higher over Beth's body, slipping her hand in between the two of them and once more into that warm wet place she was starting to like.&nbsp; But this time she continued kissing the lips, chin, throat, and neck of the other woman.&nbsp; Jessie's sensitive lips found Bethie's pulse point on the side of her neck and hovered there, barely touching just enough to feel the rapid fluttering beat of the lover beneath her.&nbsp; Her breath washed warmly over Beth's skin.<br><br>Without the shirt, Jessie could feel the give of Beth's body under her more easily.&nbsp; Only the nightgown Beth wore separated them now, and Beth's aroused nipples could be felt through the thin material.&nbsp; Jessie's own were drawn up tight under her binding, but she knew they were responding just as mush as her 'wife's'.&nbsp; She let slip a moan, her mouth buried in Beth's neck and shoulder.&nbsp; Jessie was grinding into the back of her own hand now, driving it into Beth's sex again and again in a slow rhythmic motion.&nbsp; Her breath was coming more in ragged gasps than steady calm breaths as her excitement increased.<br><br>"Oh, Beth, you feel so good!&nbsp; This is wonderful.&nbsp; I never knew it would feel like this."&nbsp; Jessie didn't think before she spoke this time, and afterwards she thought it had come out much better than before.&nbsp; The initial awkwardness of their encounter had passed, replaced with the thrilling excitement of doing something taboo yet so exciting.<br>
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			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Wagon Train West (Lesbian sex, threesome)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Visna</strong> on <strong>16-01-2015, 18:28:13</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				If Jessie hadn't slipped up, Beth was convinced she would have began to truly believe the person on top of her was a man. She let out a playful giggle and leaned forward. "Deeper! Huskier!" She whispered sharply. It brought her back into the reality that they were, after all, two women acting. To outsiders, her little laugh seemed completely natural for her assumed situation.<br><br>"Honestly, I'm finding myself out too." She reclined back against the floorboards, taking herself out of the range of her whispers. It was a misconception that whores grew to hate sex. Like any line of work, Bethie did it for the money. But, she didn't mind the act. Some partners were better than others, but she enjoyed feeling that spark with the occasional stranger. She was beginning to feel that same flame with Jessie. Any religious hesitation had, for the moment, disappeared from the forefront of her conscious.<br><br>A soft whimper came from the body below as Jessie pushed another fingers inside of Beth. The whore stayed quiet, giving Jessie freedom to create the situation. She never seemed to be nearing a limit of any sort; the young lady was probably used to all of it. "Ohhh!" A lovely groan escaped to the outdoors as Jessie rotated her hand. She didn't need to speak to voice her approval. <br><br>Bethie saw the hesitation in the darkness. She didn't want to pressure Jessie in any way, so she laid there quietly as her husband considered the options. She saw the figure turn to peek outside; she smelled the desire. The warmth and messy nature of the kiss made Beth tingle with excitement. It was rare for her to experience something new in bed, but the pair was entering into a zone entirely foreign to the whore.<br><br>She heard the rustling of Jessie's shirt as buttons were undone. To Bethie, it was beautiful. Jessie was taking the initiative, and Bethie was ready to give her something in return. Her arms wrapped around Jessie, forcing her closer. Bethie tended to the blanket at all times, making sure the layer of protection stayed over them at all times. She made sure Jessie realized this to give her a sense of security and freedom.<br><br>Another string of moans came from Bethie as Jessie's fingers entered inside of her again. The whore was amused by how her sex seemed to attract her travel mate like moths to a flame. Beth's face was glowing red, although the darkness hid this fact. She tilted her head, letting Jessie explore her neck like any hungry man would. With her, things were different. Everything felt more sincere and sensitive.&nbsp; Bethie hardly knew how to describe it.<br><br>"H-harder... Deeper!" She gasped, knowing well that her words would seem natural if anybody heard them. "Jessie, Jessie..." She groaned, playing up the act a bit. <br><br>Her hands explored all along Jessie's backside, feeling the soft flesh that was so new to her. "Unbutton my gown... Take me..." She whispered. It was part of the ruse... or was it? Things were beginning to sound more and more like Bethie's true wants.<br><br>
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Wagon Train West (Lesbian sex, threesome)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Annisthyrienne</strong> on <strong>08-02-2015, 19:25:28</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				A moment of doubt crept into Jessie's mind.&nbsp; Was Bethie sincere?&nbsp; Were her whispered encouragements genuine, or was this just a whore's act designed to please her companion's ego.&nbsp; But at the young woman's urging to unbutton her gown, Jessie ceased to worry.&nbsp; No passerby would have known that her gown was still on, or that the acts they were engaged in was anything but genuine.&nbsp; So Bethie must have been telling simply what she wanted to happen.<br><br>Encouraged once again, Jessie braced on her elbows, letting some of her weight rest on the feminine body underneath her as she unfastened the buttons on the night gown.&nbsp; She couldn't stop kissing Bethie as each new bit of soft warm flesh was revealed.&nbsp; Jessie found she really liked kissing Bethie's neck and throat, and kept going back to that spot where she would feel her lover's pulse rapidly flickering against her lips.&nbsp; But as the neckline of the gown opened further, Jessie's kisses and open mouthed nibbles went lower and lower.<br><br>Soon the delicate swell of Bethie's breast was falling beneath her amorous kisses.&nbsp; Jessie could feel the almost liquid resilience of the warm soft flesh, and instinctively sought the puckered areola and nipple, finding it stiff and erect just as her own.&nbsp; Her tongue darted out to circle the turgid bud, then her lips enclosed it, forming a small 'o' and pulling it into the hot wet space of her mouth with suction alone.&nbsp; She moaned around the obstacle, as if it were the sweetest gumdrop, and the sound carried through her lips as vibration.<br><br>As her fingers worked further at the buttons, Jessie's tongue pressed the nub of flesh to the roof of her mouth, rhythmically sucking just as an infant would.&nbsp; With each suckle, her tongue rubbed the morsel of flesh against the roof of her mouth.&nbsp; She was fully latched on and suckling like a newborn babe.<br><br>At last her fingers unfastened the last of the buttons on the gown and she tugged it off of her lover, then removed the bindings on her own breasts and regained her place between her 'wife's parted thighs.&nbsp; Bringing her lips close to Bethie's earlobe, she whispered, too low to be heard beyond their bed, "Oh Bethie, I love how this feels!&nbsp; I never knew it could be so exciting and feel this good!"&nbsp; This time her words were no act, nor spoken in her 'manly' voice.&nbsp; Just an earnest declaration of how she felt in the moment.<br><br>No longer was she concerned about what a man would do to please a woman.&nbsp; At some point her own instincts took over, and she was making it up as she went along, just doing what seemed to come naturally.&nbsp; As she moved her hips back into play against the younger woman's set sex, grinding her own in that hot wet place, she knew a new sensation.&nbsp; They were now embraced breast to breast, with no coverings or clothing between them, nothing but bare flesh meeting bare flesh, arms and legs entwined.&nbsp; The new feeling excited Jessie along with the knowledge of the taboo of what they were doing.&nbsp; It provided her with an intense psychological thrill that translated into physical expression.&nbsp; her breathing grew ragged, her rhythmic motions less coordinated as she approached a climax.<br><br>She barely remembered in time to moan in a lower tone when her bliss hit her full force.&nbsp; "Oh Bethie! Oh God, yes!"<br>
			</dd>
		</dl>
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