She fell back into the cushioned seat of the coach and breathed hard, trying to get herself under control. The coach made for a formation of red rocks...in the foothills of the Rockies and managed to separate from the pursuing Indians long enough to pull between two partially concealing boulders. The escorts madly pulled at the traces holding the horses to the coach, freeing the steeds from the cumbersome vehicle. The door of the coach jerked open, and the driver stuck his head in.“It’s no use. You roll your head back and moan ‘wow’ as I nibble your neck from side to side, then I move my lips to yours and kiss you softly, building in intensity to a fevered french kiss of mad passion, eating your mouth like I’m going to eat your pussy, our tongues bobbing and weaving, as if in a lover’s dance, and I whisper in your ear ‘I want you, I crave you, I need you!’ I cup your tits, one in each hand, as I draw my tongue across your lips, down your chin and neck, down to your right tit and bring. More

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