Let's go back to the tavern.

When you return to the hotel, you pack up whatever loose items you brought with you and take Delilah out. Your memories linger on the last sexual session you had with Maise, making your conversations with Delilah seem...**** at times. Delilah seems to notice that you aren't exactly all there, but doesn't suspect you've done anything that would offend her. After a couple of hours of talking and going around the town, you decide it's probably time to head back, since you didn't want to caught in the outside while it was dark and far from anywhere civilized. Delilah, who was now seeming a little bored, agrees.

...

...

The ride back was nothing memorable. Or at least, it wouldn’t have been if it weren’t for Delilah. You talked a lot with Delilah again - she was trying really hard to keep you both active... Ever since you had been intimate with her, she was much more talkative and open about her background anyway. You still found it a little hard to focus, but the more she tried, the more attention she got from you.

You shot at her with a few questions, which she answered with a snappy and cheerful voice. Even though she seemed to pussyfoot around the subject of her family, you were to gather that her father actually runs caravans further East. She briefly mentions a brother and then a sister, as well as her a beloved hobby for playing the piano and reading.

After about an hour or so, the small talk had dried up. It was now much more personal and focused on each other and no one else. Delilah was a very emotional girl, but when she talked about a serious manner she was also very adult and direct. Sure, she hid some of her feelings, but she spoke with out a stutter and replied with a kind voice.

Eventually, even those subjects dried. It left you to travel silently. The ride you shared turned a little sour.

You were ahead of her when she trotted her steed beside you. “So, you seem pretty experienced.”

You knitted your brow, glancing at her. “At what?” Her question came out of no where. She had no reason to say that...?

“Sex.” She says flatly.

You nearly ****. “Sure?”

“OK,” she sighs. “How many women have you slept with?”

Again. You ****. You remember Maisie. Her tight pussy wrapped around your cock as she swung in the air: “Where did that come from?”

Delilah, whose face looks as red as yours felt, shrugs. “I’m just curious.”

“Ah, well let’s see…” your mind bounces. You went through a lot of different cities and states before somehow landing in Montana. Sweet Jesus...You went through Wyoming. Before that, you were in Ohio. Before that, Nevada. Before Nevada, Texas...You met Lynette, Willow, then someone named Vanessa… your eyes wonder as your thoughts rack.

“Why do you have to think for so long?!” Delilah blurts out.

You laugh slightly, embarrassed by your past actions - as well as your most recent one. You clear your throat and scratch your head. “I’m better now though." you hesitantly lie.

She rides closer, her horse snorts. “I’m special though, aren’t I?”

You look at her. Her teal eyes beam into yours as her choppy brown hair sways gently in the breeze. She looks (almost desperately) up at you. You wink at her, making her smile a little bit before confirming her thoughts. “Of course you are. You’re...you’ve definitely given me a change of heart...(?)”

She smiles triumphantly. “I’m pleased to hear!” She takes the lead, just as the trail forks into two well-used paths. You’re nearing the tavern again.

Air escapes your nose and a genuine smile curls on your lips. Your lips straighten and you expression darkens. "I'm so sorry, Delilah..."

...

...

Despite your early departure, you still arrived somewhat late. The sun was just about to dip under the horizon. After returning your horses, you continue to spend the night with her. Your conversation spills over your last “vacation”, even as you find yourselves in the tavern, your friendly banter continues.

Behind the counter, you see an older fellow, who gaze lands on Delilah and then at you. He smiles at Delilah, but gives you a glare. You suppose she’s more of a local than you are, so you aren’t really surprised. No one really liked outsiders here, which was to be expected since it’s an isolated pocket of people. You are pretty sure most of the non-locals aren’t exactly friendly...You, yourself, are a contractor.

It doesn't really matter what he thinks though.