by Evans, Tabor
“Since you ask so nice,” he said. And stepped half a pace closer.
Chapter 27
Longarm arched his back, driving his hips upward. He didn’t mean to. Didn’t want to. He just couldn’t help himself. It felt so damn good, what Eleanor was doing to him.
She had him deep in her mouth. No, that wasn’t exactly right really. Where he was was deep into her throat. All the way in. He could feel her lips wrapped hard and tight at the base of his balls, her nose nuzzling the hair on his balls—the thought came to him that that probably tickled like crazy—while at the same time she used the fingertips of one hand to lightly stroke his scrotum, and with the other hand, her arm wrapped around and under his butt, she was gently dragging a fingernail across his asshole.
The combined sensations were damn near more than he could stand. Although, with great fortitude, he did manage to put up with it all.
Eleanor sucked hard and pulled slowly, deliberately away. Longarm wasn’t sure, but he thought he just might go out of his mind.
“Damn,” he muttered. “That is almighty good, lady.”
She disengaged for a moment and turned to give him a grin. Her lips were soft and wet, and she seemed quite pleased with herself. That was fine by Longarm. He was well pleased with her too.
“You like that?” she asked.
“Give me a couple hours more of it so’s I can make my mind up proper.”
She laughed. “I’m glad you approve.”
“Kinda special, that is.”
“It really isn’t that difficult,” Eleanor said. She grinned again. “Have you ever been to a circus?”
“Of course.”
“Ever seen a sword swallower in a sideshow?”
“Sure, who hasn’t.”
“I used to have a girlfriend who worked the side-shows. She told me about how they do that. It’s all a matter of learning to ignore the place way at the back of the mouth, right at the top of the throat, where a person gags when something tries to go through there. You know what I mean?”
“Sure,” he said. “Like when you want to throw up, you stick a finger down your throat.”
“Exactly. Except if you try real hard and learn to relax instead of tightening up, you can learn to let something slide past that spot without you puking. Well, that’s what those sword swallowers do. The fella my friend worked for explained it to her. And she, bless her heart, figured out if a man could do that with a sword, then surely a girl could do it with a cock. And it works. She learned how to do it, and she taught me. It isn’t anything at all once you know how.”
“And you damn sure know how,” Longarm commented.
“Would you like a little more?” Eleanor offered.
“Maybe later. Right now there’s something else I want to do.” He reached for her, and Eleanor came into his arms. She kissed him, her tongue hot and busy, and his hands wandered over her tits and belly, and he fingered the soft wetness he found behind the curls of her pubic hair.
“Wet,” he said.
“Ready,” she told him.
“Not yet.”
Eleanor writhed and squirmed under his touch. Her breath came quick and eager, but he would not relent. He wanted to take his time about this.
Longarm sucked and nibbled her left breast while she stroked him. He probed deep inside her with the fingers of his left hand, and squeezed the cheeks of her ass with the other. Eleanor began to moan and pump her hips.
He kept at it, stroking with his fingers, caressing her sensitive clitoris with the ball of his thumb while with two fingers he explored deep inside her. After a scant few minutes Eleanor tensed, her body growing rigid and her back and butt arching high off the bed. She cried out aloud, a sharp, high-pitched squeak, and he felt the muscles at the entrance to her pussy clench tight around his fingers as she spasmed into a climax.
Longarm gave her a moment to rest and recuperate, then once more began to stroke and lick her. Her nipples were rigid, as hard and erect as his cock, although on a miniature scale.
“God,” she whispered, and quickly came again, her body trembling and quivering under the assault of pleasure he was giving her.
Longarm let the woman enjoy the moment, then placed a hand behind her neck, the spill of her hair cool and heavy on the back of his hand. He pulled, rolling her on top of him and pushing her face onto his cock.
“Yes. Give me a drink, baby. Let me,” she murmured, then slid down and forward, impaling herself on his shaft and taking him again deep into her throat until the full length of him filled her there.
Once more Longarm tried to hold himself motionless, tried to let her orchestrate the sensations. But as before, the feeling was simply too intense. He could not remain still, not with all that going on.
In all too short a time he felt the rising, swelling excitement, felt the gathering force and then the ultimate release that gushed in a hot, electric flow, pulsing and spewing into the woman’s throat.
Longarm groaned and let himself go limp. Eleanor continued to hold him inside her mouth for long moments, then slowly withdrew, smiling.
She dipped her head low to plant a soft kiss on the tip of his cock.
And then, no more willing to let him rest than he himself had been with her a little earlier, she ran her tongue up onto his belly, took one tiny nipple between her lips, and once more began to suck on Longarm’s sensitive flesh.
He’d thought he was so thoroughly sated by the first explosion that he would not be able to rise for a repeat performance. Not for hours.
He’d been wrong about that.
Under Eleanor’s expert ministrations, it turned out that he was more ready than he’d thought possible, and it was with pleasure that he allowed the woman to straddle him, taking his cock into her body. The flesh that engulfed him was burning hot, the feeling enhanced by his recent first climax, and she was already drenched in slick, slippery juices to ease his way inside.
This, Longarm decided without a hell of a lot of difficulty, was most definitely a fine way to wake up.
Hell, he didn’t even have a hangover.
Maybe he’d gone and discovered the cure mankind had been looking for all these years. Great. But how was he gonna patent it?
Longarm chuckled at the thought, causing Eleanor to pause in what she was so busily doing and raise an eyebrow.
“Don’t let me stop you,” he said. “I was just kinda enjoying myself.”
“So am I, dear. Now be quiet please and let me concentrate on feeling this lovely thing inside me, will you? It isn’t every day a girl finds something this nice to play with.”
There wasn’t much Longarm could say in response to that, so he did as the lady asked and quieted down. Eleanor closed her eyes and tipped her head back and returned to what she’d been so nicely doing.
Longarm did not mind that. Not even a little bit.
Chapter 28
The tangy and entirely delectable scent of frying bacon brought him awake. Bright, full daylight showed around the edges of the blinds in Norm’s bedroom. It was hours after Longarm normally woke. But then last night hadn’t exactly been normal, what with one thing and another.
He sat upright, teeth chattering in the restrained impulse to yawn. There was a hollowness in his balls and a slight soreness in his pecker, but all in all he felt considerably better than he had any right to after a wet night out. It was the moist night in—in Eleanor, that is—that probably accounted for that. Damn, but she was a fine, accomplished filly. She could turn a man inside out, drain him purely dry, and still keep him coming back for more. Longarm could attest to that, but hoped he wouldn’t have to.
It did occur to him, fleetingly, that spending a night screwing Norm’s woman had not been written on his list of things to do in Crow’s Point. He supposed he should feel pretty shitty about bedding his buddy’s play-pretty.
Still, dammit, Eleanor was a big girl. And the call had been hers. Longarm might’ve felt worse about this if he’d been the one t
o make the first move. But he hadn’t. The choice was most definitely hers.
And it would have taken a strong man—to say nothing of a stupid one—to kick Eleanor Fitzpatrick out of bed.
Well, he thought with a wry grin, he might kick her out himself. But only because there was more room to thrash around on the floor.
Longarm stood and wrapped the rumpled, stained, and more than just a little bit sweaty sheet around his middle, then threw the trailing end over one shoulder to keep from tripping over it.
The clothing he’d been wearing last night was tossed in a jumble beside the tiny bedside table—the lady was talented, but apparently she wasn’t tidy—with the last things off at the top of the pile. Longarm dug down to the bottom and found his coat. He extracted a cheroot, then rooted through the mess again long enough to unearth his vest. He found a match, struck it, and lit that first tasty smoke of the day, then ambled out into the kitchen to check on the progress of the bacon. The smell of it had his mouth watering and his belly growling.
“Good morning.” He planted a kiss behind Eleanor’s ear, and got her butt pushed backward into his crotch by way of a response.
“You look like a Roman senator,” she told him, “toga and all.”
“An’ you look like one of those Greek statues. Except you got all your arms.”
She laughed. Eleanor was still bare-ass naked. Longarm decided he approved of her costume. On the other hand . . . “Isn’t that kinda dangerous? I mean, if the bacon splatters or something?”
“If anything gets burned, will you kiss it and make it well?”
“Woman, I reckon I got to take that for a challenge. We’ll see if I’m up to it. But I’m warning you. I bet you’re the one walking funny when you leave outa here.”
“I’ll take the chance, baby.”
Longarm spotted a coffeepot bubbling behind the skillet where bacon was frying. There was something in the oven too, although he couldn’t tell what. Biscuits, he hoped. Biscuits, bacon, and bacon gravy. That sounded like just the ticket to get him set for another wrestling match with the big girl from ... wherever. They hadn’t yet gotten around to having any personal discussions. No time for inconsequentials like that. Longarm found a mug and helped himself to coffee, then poured another for Eleanor.
“Why don’t you set the table for me, dear? This will be ready in a few minutes.”
Longarm grunted and laid out places for two, then settled down comfortable and sassy, to enjoy the coffee and the rest of his smoke while admiring Eleanor naked in full daylight. Lordy, but she did have a round, plump, almighty pretty ass. He definitely liked what he saw.
Liked the way she acted afterward too. Eleanor was not a lady to squander time, nor was she sidetracked by unimportant details like clearing the table or washing dishes. Her thoughts were fixed on one thing, and they both hadn’t much more than swallowed their last bites of food, nor drained off those last swallows of coffee, before she was reaching under the bedsheet toga in search of a pecker to play with.
Damned if she didn’t find one too. Longarm didn’t mind a little bit when she gave it a tug and pulled him back into the bedroom with it.
Didn’t mind it either when, several hours later, Eleanor rolled over and said, “I hope you won’t mind if I have to spend the day here.”
“Mmm?”
“I overslept this morning, dear. But gracious, I can’t be seen leaving this house. The whole town would know about it in ten minutes. Less, probably. I’ll just have to stay here until after dark. Is that all right?”
Longarm grinned. “Does that mean you’ll still be here to cook me some supper?” The grin got wider. “And maybe grease my skids for dessert?”
“Don’t tell me you can still be thinking about sex that quick again?”
“That quick?” he returned. “Hell, lady, I’m thinking about it again right now, never mind what might could happen tonight.”
“Longarm, dear, I do like the way you think. Is it all right if I stay here then?”
“Yeah, I reckon so.”
“Norman wouldn’t mind.” She giggled. “I’ve had to do it before a few times. When we’ve gotten carried away and ... you know.”
“Sure. I know.”
She made a face. “I shouldn’t have brought that up, should I?”
“I didn’t say anything.”
“No, but I can see it in your face. You disapprove of me.”
“No, Eleanor. If I disapprove of anybody it’s me, not you. But what’s done is done. An’ I expect I wouldn’t take it back even if I could. I like you. You’re straightforward.” He softened his expression with a smile. “An’ you’re a damn fine fuck too if I do say so. No, I wouldn’t change it now. But the man’s my friend. I can’t help feeling that I did him wrong here.”
“Norman is my friend too, dear. I love him. No, don’t look at me like that, I really do. Enjoying this time with you doesn’t take anything away from that. And after all, what I have with Norman is love. What you and I have is sex. Delightful sex. Great sex. But that’s all it is, Longarm, dear, is sex. I hope you understand the difference.”
“That sounds like something the man oughta say.”
“If you disapprove of me, dear, I can get dressed and march right on out of here. The town can say whatever they damn please. Just tell me if that is what you want.”
He looked at her, and decided that damned if Eleanor didn’t actually mean that. It surprised him.
He answered her by wrapping her up in a bear hug that would have broken a smaller woman’s ribs. He planted a kiss on her that was intended to curl her toes—and very likely did—then gave her right tit a squeeze for good measure. “All right?” he asked.
Eleanor laughed. “All right. But dear.”
“Yes?”
“Before you go off to chase villains or whatever it is you deputy marshals do, I want to make out a grocery list. There are some things I want you to pick up while you’re out. For supper. I can cook as good as I fuck.” She showed him a dimple. “Maybe better.”
“Nobody could cook that good,” he swore. “But I’ll give you a chance to prove your point this evening. Make out your list while I get dressed.” He smiled. “But make sure you’re still bare naked when I get back here this afternoon.”
“It’s a promise,” she told him.
Eleanor went off in search of paper and a pencil for her list, while Longarm sorted out the mess she’d made of his clothing and dressed himself ready to face the day at—he dragged the Ingersoll out of his vest pocket and checked the time—at 11:23 A.M. precisely.
It was, he thought, one hell of a time to be starting one’s day.
Chapter 29
It was fairly early to be quitting for the day, not yet quite five, but what the hell. It hadn’t been much of a day anyway. He’d found half a dozen folks who agreed with the mayor that Dinky Dinklemann kept changes of clothes someplace. None of them had the least idea where Dinky’s hole-up might have been. It wasn’t the sort of question anyone bothered to wonder about, not right up until the moment when Longarm asked them about it. No one even bothered to take a guess. Dinky’s private place could have been anywhere, several said, indoors or out. Anywhere within a couple miles of town even, for the boy walked incessantly.
Unproductive as the day had been, though, Longarm had higher hopes for the evening. He stopped at the butcher’s and got the couple pounds of lean pork chops Eleanor asked for on her list, then went by the greengrocer’s for the few other items she’d written down. He was careful to remember that he shouldn’t show either of the merchants the actual list he was buying from. After all, they might well recognize the handwriting, and that would give Eleanor away for—as he was sure the small-town folks here would think it—a wanton woman. It was the least he could do to repay the pleasures she’d already given him ... and the additional ones he had every intention of collecting after supper.
He carried the groceries into Norm’s little house, and let out
a soft whistle to let Eleanor know he was back. She appeared seconds later, a broad smile lighting up her features, at the kitchen door.
And just as he’d requested, the smile was the only thing she was wearing.
“What a helluva sight to come home to,” he said with a grin.
“Is that a complaint?”
“Not hardly.” He wrapped her up in his arms and did his best to lick her tonsils. Eleanor began to wriggle, rubbing her belly hard against the erection that immediately swelled inside his drawers.
“No,” she allowed, “I guess maybe it wasn’t a complaint after all. Not with a reaction like that.” She bent down and planted a brief kiss over the bulge at his crotch, then relieved him of the sack of food. “Did Ezra have lean chops like I asked for?”
“Romantic, ain’t you,” he said.
“Oh, don’t worry. We’ll get to that, I promise.”
“He trimmed them to order,” Longarm said. “They look fine to me.”
“You do like pork, I hope.”
“Damn right.”
“Then make yourself comfortable in the parlor while I fix dinner. Will you have brandy or would you prefer coffee?”
“Coffee,” he said, not bothering to explain his distaste for the sweet, prissy brandy.
“I’ll bring it to you in a minute then. Go along now. And stay out of my way.”
“Yes, ma’am,” he said, mock seriously.
There wasn’t much of anything in Norm’s limited collection of old newspapers and magazines that Longarm found of interest, but he made do. From out in the kitchen he could hear thumping and banging so loud he had to sneak back there and take a peek. Eleanor, for reasons entirely unknown to Custis Long, had cut the bone away from the meat of the pork chops—damn shame, he thought; he liked to gnaw on a bone near as much as your average hound did—and was beating the hell out of it with a wooden mallet. That didn’t make a hell of a lot of sense to him. But then Longarm never made any claims to superior talents in the kitchen. He tiptoed back to the parlor and settled down to read a copy of the Police Gazette that he’d first read at least two months ago. The articles hadn’t gotten any better with age.
