Mummy & Daddy’s Naughty Diary (Erotica)

I soon grew tired of the farce, went back to my tent and laid on my bedroll. I stayed awake until I heard Willi and Gretchen preparing for bed. My accustomed four hours of sleep would pass soon and the remainder of the night, I would sit and stand vigil.

I woke in the still of the night, concentrating on whether I had alerted to some peril. After a few minutes, I rose to take stock. Everything was quiet, our fire had died down, so I got up and checked on the livestock while my eyes were better suited for night vision. Everything was well, so I went back to the campfire and built up for breakfast.

The aroma woke Willi, and blinking awake, he began preparing for his tasks. Gretchen soon followed, stretching awake and smiling at me as I pulled the hot biscuits from the skillet into my hands, which caused me to flip them from hand to hand due to their heat causing me pain, until I dropped them on the plate. I tried to softly curse which caused Gretchen to chuckle.

“Good morning,” the soft melodious voice said. I swiveled, irate and discombobulated, being caught by surprise. Standing behind me was one of the ladies that was the focus of last night’s drama. I rose from my kneeling stance and faced her.

Tall, with red hair that draped over her shoulders, blue eyes that sparkled from the light of the campfire, high cheekbones that drew attention to her eyes, her alabaster skin accented her hair even more. Cupid lips, so naturally red that you were mistaken to think that lipstick was applied and could keep a man staring at them for hours. I strained not to openly ogle her exquisite figure; her tits, large and full, how her torso narrowed to her waist and then broadened to her hips. She was dressed in a white blouse and a full-length skirt that concealed all, and yet, promised everything.

The quizzical look on my face must have been a surprise to her.

“Oh, I’m sorry… I thought Gretchen would have told you… She invited me to breakfast… I didn’t realize I was intruding… I’ll just leave,” declared the flustered woman.

She started to turn and walk away. Gretchen looked at me with a look that said, fix this! “Ma’am,” I said, “Please, excuse me, would you like to stay and eat with us?”

“Are you sure it won’t be any trouble?” she asked.

“Not at all,” I said as I started putting more rashers of bacon on the skillet. I went to the wagon and drew out a never used plate and cup for our visitor. Our guest took my spot by the fire and forked the crisp bacon off the skillet.

I poured her a cup of coffee, she thanked me and held it in both hands while she blew to cool the hot coffee.

There was a slight awkward pause between us.

“I’m Zebulon Russell,” I announced to break the silence.

“Nice to meet you, Mr. Russell. I’m Megan Kelley.”

Gretchen turned to Willi and said something in German.

Without hesitation, the woman turned to Gretchen and answered her in rapid fire German. She spoke at length, and finally Gretchen turned her face down in a sad look.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t realize that you didn’t speak German. Gretchen told me last night that the invitation came from you. Had I realized that you were not aware of it, I would have turned it down. Please forgive my intrusion, Mr. Russell.”

“That’s all right, Miss Kelley. In the short time I’ve known Gretchen, I’ve come to realize that she doesn’t let much stand in her way,” I joshed. “I’m surprised that an Irishwoman would speak fluent German.”

She laughed, “My mother is from Hannover, I grew up with her speaking it.”

We continued to talk and eat. When we were finished, I was surprised that the entire camp was active. I had remained focused on our conversation and hadn’t paid attention to Willi and Gretchen preparing for our departure.

She stood up and awkwardly motioned behind her, “I guess I better return to my camp. Thank you for breakfast, Mr. Russell, and again, I’m sorry to intrude on your hospitality.” She held her hand out towards me.

“Not at all, Miss Kelley. Glad to have made your acquaintance, and please call me Zeb.” I took her gentle hand and felt the warmth of her grip. I held it a moment too long and we were both awkwardly flustered as we broke contact. As she walked towards her wagon, pausing to ruffle the hair of Gretchen, I continued staring at her. When I looked away, I saw Gretchen smiling at me. That day’s drive passed quickly as I continued to focus on little details about Megan Kelley.

Such as when she laughed, she brushed an errant tress of hair behind her ear. Her eyebrows would rise while she focused on listening to me. When she spoke of herself, she would cast her eyes down in humility. When she spoke to Willi and Gretchen, her entire demeanor was animated from enjoying their company.

As we set camp that evening, I found myself looking for Megan Kelley, and I was sourly disappointed not to find her. Gretchen just smiled at me as she prepared to lead the oxen to water. “Stupid whore bitches, follow!” she commanded, promptly leading off, her loyal troops obediently following her.

Once again, after supper, Willi and Gretchen went to play with their new friends. Soon Gretchen came back, took me by the hand and bade me to follow her. While walking through the camp, hand in hand, I had the incongruous thought that I was no better than one of Gretchen’s animals.

She frowned and shuddered as we passed by Preacher Jeffer’s wagon as he forecast everlasting torment to everyone. We continued walking until we arrived in front of Megan’s wagon.

Four of the women, including Megan, were sitting before the campfire enjoying their meal. Gretchen broke from me and ran to Megan, who stood up and swooped Megan into a hug. Gretchen squealed as Megan laughed and swung her around before setting her down.

The attractive woman with the large nose who taunted Preacher Jeffers last evening stood up and said, “Well, Megan said you were a tall cool drink of water! If she didn’t have designs on you, I’d take you into the wagon at no charge!” She laughed as she saw how it flustered me and Megan.

“Hush, Kate,” barked Megan, “That’s no way to talk in front of a guest and a child!”

“You’re right, Megan. I’m sorry, mister. I meant no offense. My name is Katherine Horony, I’m headed to Arizona to marry a dentist, and I guess you know what I do for a living. Megan is my friend and I want to tell you she ain’t involved in the trade, so treat her nicely or you’ll answer to me!”NôvelDrama.Org: owner of this content.

A man appeared from behind the wagon, “Mister, it’ll cost you a dollar to visit with Kate,” he warned.

“Relax, Mike, he’s just here to visit Megan.” Kate told him.

Mike scowled, “Ain’t no time for visitors; it’s bad enough that only you, Kate, are attending to customers this trip. Can’t believe that I agreed to take five women West that refused to work for me!”

I scowled back at Kate’s pimp, and I was ready to have words with him when Megan took my arm and led me away with a concerned look on her face. We walked back to my camp. An unsettling silence hovered as Gretchen left us.

“… Guess I should tell you how I came to be traveling with Kate and the others.” Megan started.

“Yeah, I’d like to hear that,” I agreed.

“My stepfather paid for my conveyance. I hadn’t met any of the others and had no idea about Kate’s profession or about Mike. Now, I’m stuck with them because all the others on the wagon train calls us ‘kept’ women and won’t have anything to do with us except for the men creeping in late at night to visit Kate. I want you to know, and it’s important to me that you believe me, Zeb.”

Megan placed the palm of her right hand on my chest. If she wasn’t careful, she’d feel my heartbeat racing away from me.

I covered her hand against me.

“I believe you, Megan. It doesn’t matter that others think that ya’ll are ‘kept’ women. What matters is that you don’t let folks like Preacher Jeffers upset you. You have any problems with anybody thinking you’re a kept woman, you come see me about them.”

She smiled at me, I began to lean towards her and her posture shifted to welcome my approach to a kiss.

Which glorious moment was utterly spoiled by Gretchen running up, grabbing Megan’s hand and speaking in rapid German to follow her as she tugged her away from me. Megan looked back at me with a smile of rueful regret as she was led away.

The next morning Megan appeared for breakfast, and we all lapsed into a comfortable talk until it was time to leave. She looked at Gretchen pulling a thorn out of her foot as we prepared for the day’s journey.

“Doesn’t that child have shoes?” She looked at me in disapproval.

“I bought her some in St, Louis,” I protested, “She said they hurt her feet, but I think she doesn’t want to get them dirty.”

“Well, it’s too bad you can’t find her some comfortable shoes somewhere in this prairie.” Megan said wistfully at Gretchen.

That evening I took my saddle horse for a long overdue ride. We went upstream from the camp and I pulled my Henry repeater out of the scabbard on the saddle. I only waited a short time for a large whitetail deer to appear out of the thicket to graze at the river.