"Must you go out so soon?" she asked.

"Early morning is the best time to look for him," Carson said, still not realizing what Catherine was implying. "He'll probably lie up during the heat of the day, but I might be lucky enough to find him at the salt lick now."

What about my salty lick? thought Catherine, feeling that juicy object simmering between her sleek thighs. But she sighed, knowing how eager Carson was to look for the stag, resigning herself to another fuckless morning of frustration.

Carson moved toward the door. Rex followed after him, giving a little yelp of excitement, thinking that he was going to have a chance to chase juicy bunnies in the woodlands. In the city, the dog liked to chase cats and he knew that it would be even more fun to chase wild rabbits. No one would hit him with sticks, the way angry cat lovers did and, besides, cats had claws.

But Carson said, "Stay, boy," and went out, closing the door behind him.

Rex whimpered, looking puzzled.

"I know how you feel, Rex," Catherine sighed, seeing that the big doggy was as frustrated, though for different reasons, as she was at being left in the cabin and sympathizing with the dumb brute. She moved to the window and looked out, watching her tall, lean husband stride across the clearing and vanish into the trees.

Dammit, she thought. He could have at least thrown a quickie into me. Her pussy was smoldering and she could feel a trickle of hot cuntjuice run down the inside of her thigh, while her stiff nipples stood out in twin peaks against her gown. The sexy woman was wondering how long her husband would be gone and whether she should wait for him to return, suffering her frustration, or give herself a handjob. A fingerfucking was nowhere near as satisfying as a prick, but it was a lot better than nothing, she knew. Then, too, Tommy might be back at the cabin by the time that Carson returned and, with the teenage boy there, what with the paper-thick wooden walls, they wouldn't be able to have a fuck, anyhow.