The signs of a single wagon were unmistakable. Ox-drawn, at least four people, two of them women. No horses, no other livestock. It was probably a dem...nted trader or itinerant peddler hoping for an early spring. There were no other signs that anyone had come up here this early in the season. At the bottom of the last push to the crest, the other trail had been at least a week old. It had been raining for five days now, and now near the top of the pass, the trail looked fresh. Perhaps it had. And the women and slut deep down inside me was crying and screaming to come back. I never felt with her like a husband, I wished she knew what I was and would accept me like that, then I think I could have performed with her like lesbians, as I had several relations like that before her. I started chatting with men again and flirting as the slut I was, and the whore inside me wanted to get fucked. And a couple of times I had received men in my home to fuck me, when she was not around. Until. More

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