vHe knew this was wrong, he shouldn't do it, but it had always been the very last way out. He grasped himself and began stroking slowly, steadily. In his head another fantasy formed; this time they were riding somewhere. Cami sat behind him on the horse, her arms around his waist. He could almost feel her fingers sliding up to his collar, unbuttoning his shirt from behind. Her fingernails would be grazing his skin and would trail a happy path down to his trousers.

His skin raised goosebumps at the thought. He stepped up the stroking. Her hands would open his trousers and slide under the waistband of his longjohns, touching him there. Keeping that very thought in his mind he came almost instantly. He panted somewhat, but at least this meant he would sleep when he got back to the bunkhouse. He was relieved to feel a twinge of exhaustion already. Pulling on his longjohns again he hobbled back to the bunkhouse, unaware of Jimmy watching him when he climbed back into his bunk. Sleep came quickly, and though the dreams still contained a lot of Cami, they were sweet and innocent. But he knew he would be ashamed of his animalistic behavior when he awoke.

Cami sighed and stared at the ceiling. Her right index finger was just carefully rubbing her swollen nub through her pantalets when she thought of him. She had seen him for the first time an endless amount of time ago. He had looked so handsome atop his proud horse, riding into town with some friends. They were the new express riders, she had learned later. She had looked into his dark eyes and seen a whole new world reflected in them. They were so warm, and welcoming, and bottomless. She wanted to keep staring at him, but he had turned away, looking embarrassed. She too had blushed and turned away, but when her friends arrived at their meeting place she had pulled on a serious face and forgotten all about the beautiful stranger. Until she saw him again, that was. He had made her knees weak, even when he wasn't looking directly at her. She felt an urge to reach out and touch him, feel him, breathe him. Kiss him...

She had never had those feelings about any other man, and no man had ever showed those feelings for her either. She didn't believe she was acutely unattractive, but she wasn't anyone's wet dream either. Her hips were a little too wide, her breasts too small, and her nose too pointy. Her only pride was her hair. She loved her hair, and hoped someday someone else would too. She hoped that someone would be him. Buck Cross. She could say his name in her head a million times, but she would never dare to say it out loud. He meant so much to her, even though she hadn't ever spoken to him. Nor about him. Her three years older sister had spoken about something called crushes. They made you think all these wonderful thoughts about men, but they didn't mean anything. He had said at least a thousand times that if you ever got the man you dreamt of both night and day, it would be an anti-climax. No fun at all, and the whole magic would be spoiled. Dreaming about someone was easy, fun and inspiring. But actually having someone was boring. Then you only get to know the bad sides of that person. Or so Cami's sister told her. But it didn't stop her from dreaming of Buck Cross. She told herself she needed to think of him, as the exploring seventeen-year-old girl she was. Buck was the most handsome man she had ever seen, and she believed one day she would either explode or actually gather the courage to talk to him. Not about her feelings - never! But she would say hi, maybe flirt a little, like her friends did. All the time.

She wondered how and when they would actually meet, and really speak to each other. Would they bump into each other in the street and he would say "I'm sorry"? Or would they both reach for that last jar of pickles at Thompkins store? Would he tell her she could have it? She believed he would. He seemed so polite and well behaved.

But he was older than her. Older, wiser and taken. Oh yeah, she had seen her. Louise was her name. She had seen them walk through town several times, and once she even overheard a conversation about some other woman. Someone called Camille. This "Lou" had comforted him without speaking a word, she had just looked at him and he had seemed all better. That was real love, she thought. When you don't have to talk to your other half, just look at him and touch him. Like "Lou" did. "Lou" by the way! What kind of nickname was that on a girl? Anyone could see she was not a man, no way! She was much too scrawny, and feminine and... and... and perfect. Cami hated her for being so pretty. Her body may be frail and petite, but at least she carried herself gracefully and she looked beautiful in a dress. She really made every head turn. She had seen her once, when they went to a dance in town. Cami had never been to a dance, but she had watched those who did; her envious stare beaming down from her bedroom window, catching glimpses of happy, aroused and excited men and women, all older than her. All experienced. All beautiful. All perfect.

Buck is perfect, she thought. His flawless face, his tanned and lean body, his smile, the twinkle in his eyes... He was everything she had ever wanted in a man. And it pained her so that she couldn't have him, nor know him. Just having him for a friend would be okay. But maybe this was for the best, maybe her sister was right. Maybe she was just subconsciously practicing those strong feelings, so she would know them the day she actually met her soulmate. But for now Buck was her soulmate. The only man she would ever want. He was perfect. Just perfect.