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“I guess we’re clear of that possible threat now.” He said to Spook. “We can stop here for a while and eat. Then we can make camp off the road, how’s that sound boy?” He asked the dog. Spook woofed at him and took off into the brush, then popped his head back out as if to say, “Follow me.” Andrew smiled and gave a short laugh, “Ok Spook, lead on.” He pulled the mules and they followed without further complaint. They knew food, water and rest were coming. Spook led them to a small clearing in the thin woods. Andrew saw a small circle of stones where campfires had been used in the past. This must be a good stopping place to stay the night if a semi-permanent fire pit had been dug in.Andrew sighed and stretched his back and rolled his shoulders after he dropped the pack off his back. Then he unloaded the mules of the small amount of cargo they had on them. He used hobbles on them to keep them from roaming and long leads to allow for forage overnight. Next, he gathered dried downed. And then, like water breaking a dam, they start to kiss passionately. Hands roam each other's body as buttons slip un-done, and warm flesh yields to chilled hands that have been out in the crisp, cool air. Hungry hands make short work of the coats which fall to the floor to cover the surface of leaves on the ground. Her long red coat and his black one, scarlet and black, the colours of passion. He kisses her back to the ground and then kneels. He slips off his shirt, revealing a slim, muscled torso. Straddling her midriff, he slowly teases her. Hands slide over shoulders and he kisses her lightly at first. Hands roam her chest, circling and teasing. They slide over her ribs, and around to her back. He pulls her close, their embrace fierce, primal and savage. Tongues intertwine, forming a heady mix of passion mixed with the faint taste of the wine from earlier. Her hands run along his ribs, and up over his back. Nails scrape gently along his abdomen, tracing the fine hair above his.
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