Slocum #395 : Slocum and the Trail to Yellowstone (9781101553640)

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Authors: Jake Logan
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into the scabbard and started to dismount close to the wolf.
    â€œThat’s right. He’ll make the best hood I’ve ever owned.” Her face beamed at the notion of owning one.
    All at once, Red snorted and acted upset at the scent of the wolf. Slocum chuckled at him, holding the reins tight to keep him under control.
    â€œWhy did you wait so long to make a fuss?” Slocum asked the horse. Then he grabbed the wolf’s hind legs and dragged him over close to Wilma. With her own horse hitched to a tree, she ran over to help him. He used a cord to fill the slits he made with his knife between the lower hind leg bones. After he had one leg tied up, Slocum dragged him under a pine. The cord tossed over a stiff branch, he motioned for Wilma to pull the rope up and tie it while he held the bloody wolf in a bear hug up in the air. She deftly tied the other leg with the cord through the slit in it. The animal was now strung up and swung slightly in the stiff wind sweeping over the mountain.
    He handed her a smaller jackknife to use to work on the wolf. The strong scent of the animal filled Slocum’s nose as they began to slip the skin off his warm carcass. A coppery smell mixed with a testosterone odor wafted toward them and made both Wilma and Slocum fight not to gag. The pelt was in good shape for this late in the summer. The two of them stripped the prime skin away from the dark pink meat of the carnivore. Slocum’s hands were full of fur to hold it aside as he used his sharp blade to quickly separate the hide’s white underside from the wolf carcass muscles.
    The hide was soon off the animal, and he shook it to get the sticks and debris out of it. Then he carefully rolled it up. Wilma cut the carcass down and saved Slocum’s cord. Leaving the wolf’s remains and stinking guts for the magpies and ravens, she turned to Slocum in the red fire of sundown.
    â€œThere’s a creek we can wash up in at the base of this hill. He sure stank.”
    Slocum nodded and finished tying the pelt on the back of his saddle. Red kept trying to sling his head around at him when he mounted. They set out in the dying sun’s glow to descend the steep open grassy slope for the creek.
    After washing up in the shallow water, Wilma smiled at him as they dried their hands on a flour sack. “Now was when Ermal usually got romantic.”
    â€œYou game?” he asked.
    â€œI’m not as thin as I was then.”
    â€œWell, you suggested it.”
    She laughed and began to shed her suspenders. “Hell, yes.”
    With her bent over and her hands braced on a large boulder, the sight of the red glow of sundown on her amble bare butt drew a smile from his lips. He dropped his own pants, unbuttoned his underwear, and stuck his dick between her bare legs.
    Her hand reached under, caught his swinging stick, and slipped it into her slot. A long “Aww” escaped her mouth as he probed her. This was going to be better than he’d expected. She was tight and her ring of fire was swollen. With his hands on her hips to stabilize her, he drove his shaft up inside and she gasped.
    â€œOh, that feels wonderful,” she said.
    He agreed. Maybe he’d have to find this Ermal and thank him. No, she’d said he was dead. With fury, he shoved his throbbing dick into her to feel more and more of the hot, tight hole. Each drive made his head spin until at last he felt the end rising out of his scrotum.
    His hands tightened on her bare hips. Then from his throat came a moan, and his cum exploded out the head of his dick. She squeezed down hard on his spent shaft, and he had to catch her from fainting. When she turned around at last, she collapsed against him.
    â€œOh, oh,” she moaned. “That was wonderful.”
    He agreed and saw the sun sink beyond the horizon. They would be late getting back to her cabin.

7
    The next day, they picked out things they’d need to take along camping

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