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He finds paradise on a desert island.

" He chuckled and moved to the mule's pack.

Clementine stood, hands folded in front of her, and acknowledged her instructions. The stranger took his time pulling the saddle from his sweating gelding and surveyed her incomparable good looks. He could not precisely know Clementine's dimensional attributes, but he certainly appreciated how her 142 pounds were proportionately packed onto her 5'8" frame. The westering sun backlit her form, creating a shadow-box effect, and presented her 36-23-35 hourglass physique as if she stood before him nude.

"Come on up to the house," Mitch said, lugging the laden pack as if its 150 pounds were no weight at all. "We'll set your gear on sawhorses under the eaves until we know better what to do." He walked off paying no further attention to the newcomer.

"Right," replied the stranger, distractedly, as he watched Clementine lead his animals away. Her tapered back and round ass swayed beneath her dress; an exclamation point to her undeniable physical statement. He lowered his eyes, admiring her shapely calves below the dress hem. He smiled as he watched her bare heels raise and lower with soft slapping sounds in her strapped sandals. Tearing himself away from the vision, the man followed Mitch up to the front porch and dropped the saddle beside the already placed pack.

As the men crossed the threshold, the visitor realized the structure was not freestanding, but actually three sides, built out from, and affixed to, the great maw of a massive cave. Daylight filtered in from four small windows, two on either side, and from the huge window embedded in the log facade beside the front door. A fireplace between the windows on his left was balanced by a six-burner iron cook stove between the windows on the right. Rough-cut large furnishings dominated the great room, placed so as to divide it into a kitchen, dining area and large lounge. On the whole it was comfortably rude and inviting. "This is very impressive!" the stranger complimented, as his eyes adjusted to the dimmer interior light.

"Thank you," Mitch responded agreeably, pleased by the sincere comment. "Been out here nigh onto forty years." He reached out and reeled his eldest daughter into a close side-hug. "Daphne, bless her sweet heart, was born right here, when the cavern was just a cave with a clay floor." Mitch dropped his right hand and closed it, out of the visitor's sight, with an iron grip on Daphne's bottom. She snaked her left arm around his waist as she looked up and smiled at his rugged countenance. "That was our first spring... what, 37 years ago... right, Sugar?" He looked into her hazel eyes and kissed the tip of her turned up nose.

"That's right, Daddy... 37 perfect years." Daphne tipped her head back further. Her nose vacated her father's mouth only to be quickly replaced by her full smiling lips. She swiftly kissed Mitch and then beamed at the newcomer unabashedly while he unsuccessfully tried to cover his surprise at their unrepressed intimacy. He could only imagine how Mitch's absent wife fit into the family dynamic.

Just then Clementine entered the house, dispelling the conundrum and re-introducing her magical mystique to the stranger's musing. "All watered, stabled and fed, Poppa!" She bubbled, rushing to Mitch's other side and insinuating her right arm between him and Daphne. Speaking as if the three of them were all alone, Clementine continued, "So who IS he and what's he DOING here?" She rocked up and down on her toes, naturally, and thoughtlessly, hiking her dress up her slim muscled thighs as her hip rubbed against Mitch's blue jeans.

The stranger cleared his throat intentionally loudly.

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