8
IAN
"How were you able to claim the coach just for us?" Emma asked, her body shifting and swaying with the poorly sprung motions of the stagecoach. She sat across from both of us, her posture erect, her hands clasped primly in her lap. She hadn’t been prim an hour ago. The only outward indication that she'd been recently f****d was a slight flush to her cheeks.
"Money," I replied. The leather flaps were open on only a few of the windows to minimize dust and the interior was warm. The three of us were alone, a large purse to the driver ensured we had privacy for the duration of our journey, not that there was much room for other passengers.
Emma wore a blue silk dress, the bodice low cut enough that the swells of her breasts were plump and full above the lace trimmed edge. The sleeves
