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After he left the wife still had a smile on her face.“What are you so happy about? Got your eyes on our new recruit? I asked herMy wife’s name is Donna. She is just a little pleasantly plump. Her boobs do fill out her outfit but none is showing.We are both in our early 60’s.“Don’t be so silly. I am old enough to be his grandmother “Donna said.Well it was the way you hugged him. I bet he did feel some big old white grandma titties on him.I said laughing.“Getting a little jealous “ the wife shot back.Later that night as we were laying down next to each other we both were getting a little frisky.I told her to give me a hug like she gave StanShe laughed and said sure as she raised up her blouse and gave me a bare chested hug.We then had sex in our tent. I can’t remember the last time we did it in a tent.The next morning Donna was cooking breakfast. Stan showed up wearing old tan cotton pants and old leather work boots. He did have on a bright white t-shirt.Now Stan is a tall guy and you. How could she be so heartless? He wanted to know. There was a small voice in the back of his mind saying ‘But you’d love to fuck a tight wee girl like that. You would wouldn’t you?” and it was true, he had even thought of the pretty girl on the trek – but she had been nearly thirteen; like that made it better – this knowledge that he was tempted fuelled his indignation. Suddenly she burst into tears and sobbed:“It isn’t my choice, or hers; my husband died owing Clinton a lot of money and he is making me ... us ... pay it off”What kind of a fucking country have I come to? He wondered; suddenly the wild-west nature that he had enjoyed cultivating fell away and he was back as the civilised Englishman. But he could do nothing. He walked out, determined that at least this monstrous man would not gain money from him. He went to the saloon round the corner and, after downing two whiskies, he went to the hotel and paid for a room. There, over a late midday meal (or an early evening one) he.
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