by Jake Logan
There was lots of moaning about it, to which the woman said, “Boys, if you’re horny enough, there’s still me.”
He could hardly believe the sounds of the men who called out wanting Momma. Standing before Slocum in her bare feet, Katy removed his vest and put down his suspenders. With a quick step, she moved in close for another kiss and unbuckled his six-gun holster while her eager tongue explored his mouth. He clutched her slender body tighter and made their mouths really work. She let the gun belt down softly on the floor and then hugged him tight. They stood up still kissing. Her shaky fingers undid his fly buttons and his britches fell to his ankles.
He stepped out of them and she raced to undo his shirt, glancing downward the whole time and breathing faster at the sight of his rising sword.
“Oh, my God,” she said at last, stroking his erection with both hands. “He’s gorgeous. Oh, Slocum, he’s as big as a baseball bat. You won’t stop kissing me if I taste him, will you?”
“Stop kissing you? Never.”
She dropped to her knees, sliding her palms down his chest and the corded muscles of his belly. Then with a moan, she took the cap in her lips and sucked on it with all her might. His first instinct was to stand on his toes to try to escape the wonderful feeling of her lips, tongue, and even the thin edge of her teeth. Her hands gently fondled his balls and he wanted to climb higher as she stroked and slapped the shaft, then sucked on it even harder. If she went on much longer, he might come in her mouth.
Enough of this. He put his hands under her armpits and carried her like a feather to the bed. Once she was on her back, he climbed aboard and began to taste her nipples. Her mouth wide-open, she breathed as hard as a racehorse coming off the track. His finger began to tease her clit, and she moved her butt around to try and escape his tweaking of her large, hard, erect nub. She physically drew him on top of her.
“Oh, put it in me,” she cried in a soft voice.
Her legs were wide-open in a V and her butt was raised off the bed—she was ready for his acceptance. He eased his throbbing tool between the lips of her cunt and she tensed under him. There was plenty of juice to lubricate his way through her ring of fire, and he gently pushed himself inside.
“Oh,” she wailed softly. “You feel so damn good. Where have you been all my life?”
He bent over and kissed her, and she squeezed his face in her small hands, all excited. “You’re a fucking machine. God, Slocum. I’ve never had a better one inside of me.”
Her ass off the sheet, she returned his efforts as a tornado swirled in his brain. Her stomach muscles were like steel, and the hatchet-assed slip of a girl knew how to please a man. The muscles inside wrenched his skintight dick with spasms of cramplike squeezing. He knew from the tingling in the depth of his testicles what came next and sent off a big charge inside her that made her suck in her breath.
She stretched hard under him, looking sleepy eyed. “You don’t have to leave yet, do you?”
“Leaving? Honey, I’m just getting warmed up.”
“Good. I like it. Where are you going next?”
“I ain’t sure,” he whispered in her ear. “Maybe Fort Smith.”
“Damn, take me along with you.” She wet her lips. “I have all the pussy you’ll ever need, and I’ll give you some laughs along the way, huh?”
“What would your mom say?”
“I’m eighteen. I can do what I want. She can hire an Indian woman to do what I do.”
He pushed his still-hard erection deeper inside her, and she sucked in her breath. “Again?”
With a wink, he laughed. “I told you that, didn’t I?”
“I guess I didn’t believe you, but I like it.” She smiled and raised her butt off the bed to accept his thick root. The face of newfound pleasure soon caught up with him as he increased his speed. In a few minutes, his efforts had her huffing for more air and kicking her legs in the air on both sides of him.
The third time, he finished her off from behind, and she collapsed facedown on the coarse sheet. A smile pasted his lips as he looked down at her. She damn sure had freckles on her ass, and he liked her.
2
When Katy’s momma heard the news of her leaving, she cried into her hands, collapsing on a log bench. “Oh, darling, you are so young to be going off. But he’ll show you the bright lights. I know when I was your age I’d’ve given a lot to have been going where you are, rather than staying in that Tennessee shack and waiting for my first husband to come home drunk, screw my ass, and then beat the hell out of me.”
She looked crossly at Slocum. “You look out for her. She’s wilder than a bitch in heat. But she can’t help that—her momma was too after she found that her first husband had drowned in a ditch. About four inches of water in it. He was so damn drunk.”
Ready to travel, Katy wore a pair of boy’s britches, tight as a drum skin on her small ass, and a boy’s shirt with the tails tied at her waist and a few buttons done up. Her nipples about stuck through the material. With her dress and shoes in a pasteboard case, she hugged her mother good-bye. Under the straw hat, she looked the part of a teenage boy, ’cept for her tits.
Slocum rode Spook around in a circle until the horse calmed down some, wondering the whole time how he’d like two riders. He came by and grabbed her arm and swung her up like a feather behind him. Spook bolted and he shouted, “Get your heels out of his damn flank!”
They both stayed on board and she kept hold of the small case between the two of them, laughing halfway to Crow’s Crossing, the next spot of civilization in the post oak hills on the Texas Road. Actually they were headed for Fort Smith. He had in mind that the Hudson brothers would head there as it was about the only place to legally buy whiskey, and they had brothels up there as well. Both of those killers had become indelible in his mind when he rode off from Katy’s mother’s place.
Crow’s Crossing had a small general store, a blacksmith shop, and several army wall tents set up in no discernible pattern, so he decided they must be surplus and made homes for the Indian population. Many spotted ponies were either kept in pole corrals or on a long ropes and were grazing.
“How do you feel about riding a paint?” he asked her.
“Oh, I’d love to.”
“I’ll try to buy one here, if they ain’t too high. That looks like the only kind of horses they keep around here.”
“Good. I’ve never had a good horse of my own.”
At the store, he asked the white man who ran it, “Who around here has a good riding horse to sell?”
“I have two. One’s a mare and one’s a stallion.”
“I don’t want a stallion. What’s the mare?”
“Well broke. A black piebald. Smooth mouth, but sound.”
“I’ll go look.” He went outside where Katy waited and saw she was standing by Spook, talking to a tall Indian boy near her age.
“This is Charlie Western,” she said, introducing the youth. “We went to school together for a while.”
“Slocum’s mine.” They shook hands. “I need to go look at this piebald mare out back.”
“Come on, Charlie,” she said, inviting him.
“Is the horse for you?” Charlie asked her.
“Yes. I need something to ride.”
They stopped, hearing grunting and a mare’s squealing in the corral beyond the post oaks they were walking through. When they got past the bushy trees, they could see the huge phallus of the stallion as he attempted to bury it deep inside the mare’s vagina. He was reared up on top of her, hopping around on his hind feet, grunting and hunching to get his probe deeper inside of her.
At last, he gave a great surge into her and she cried out. Two or three more hard hunches into her and he fired a final gun. Limply, he let his huge, pink and black erection slide out of her cunt, dripping all over with milky cum.
Katy laughed. Charlie looked halfway embarrassed, and Slocum shook his head in disgust. “This way we get two for one.”
T
hen they all laughed. Charlie caught her mane and he jumped on her back, pushed her around several different ways, and all she did was toss her head at the flies as she moved the way he directed.
He wrinkled his nose. “She’s pretty gentle, Katy.”
“What’s she worth?” Slocum asked the youth after he checked all four hooves and was satisfied that she would do.
“Five or ten dollars. He’ll ask you fifteen ’cause you’re a stranger around here.”
Katy winked at Slocum. “Bet I can get her cheaper than that.”
“I’m buying her as gift for you.”
She raised her eyebrows and teased him. “You ain’t half as bad as I thought you were.”
Then she laughed and the other two did too.
“You know about a saddle I can buy?” Slocum asked the boy.
“Yes, I have a good army saddle, a blanket, and a bridle. I’d take, oh, five dollars for all of it. Good leather.”
“Go get it, and if it’s good I’ll buy it.”
“Can I ride the mare over there? It’s about two miles away.”
“That all right, Katy? She’ll be your horse.”
“Sure. I’ve known Charlie for years.”
Charlie made a rope bridle on the mare’s jaw, leaped on her back, and rode off into the dying sundown with a wave. Slocum turned, put his arm on Katy’s shoulder, and headed uphill with her. “Let’s go dicker with the owner over the price for the mare.”
“I noticed something about you,” she said, looking up at him as they walked toward the store. “You make up your mind real damn fast.”
“No need in jawing all day. I have better things to do, don’t I?”
“Oh, you mean diddle me? Hell, yes.” Then she chuckled and looked around, embarrassed. Before he let her step on the porch edge, she feinted driving a fist into his side. “Don’t be long in there. I’ve got big plans for you.”
The mare cost nine dollars, plus the man threw in a loaf of bread and some homemade sausage to put on it. That was worth thirty-five cents and would be their supper tonight and breakfast in the morning. He wondered how long Charlie would be gone after the saddle. No matter. They could build a fire and simply wait for him to return while they ate their supper.
Katy had enough wood gathered for the fire before Slocum got back to her and Spook. He gave her a couple of strikeanywhere matches, and in minutes she had a nice blaze going. After he’d unsaddled Spook and hitched him on a rope tied between two spindly oaks, he fed him the last of the grain in a feed bag that he put over his ears. This time the horse didn’t try to rear or escape him. Made him feel more satisfied with his purchase; the gelding was getting better broke.
Charlie arrived back as they finished their sandwiches of sliced sausage and sourdough bread. Slocum offered to fix him one when he dismounted his own black horse. Charlie handed Katy the reins and the lead for the mare he’d borrowed, then he agreed to eat one and thanked Slocum. The saddle looked like new in the firelight, and Slocum paid the boy, who acted kinda hesitant about leaving—eating his sandwich slow-like. Slocum knew she was a sweet one to talk to and not bad-looking.
When Charlie finally got ready to leave with his five dollars, he thanked Slocum, nodded to Katy like they had an old understanding, and rode off under the stars.
“You like him?” Slocum asked, massaging her shoulders from behind.
“Great guy, but he has nothing. Lives with his mother and helps her. No future living down here. No work. No money. They own a small place. The ground is not rich. Not the bottomland you need if you want to farm.”
She twisted around and offered her lips for him to kiss. He did that and carried her over to the bedroll. Standing on top of it, they undressed and then quickly got under the covers. Flesh to flesh, they flew into lovemaking.
When he guided his tool into her tight shaft, the feeling made him suck in his breath. Damn, she was sweet stuff to plow.
At noon the next day, they crossed the Arkansas on the steam-driven paddle-wheel ferry from the Indian Territory side. Slocum stood beside the bay horse, who acted upset, and held the lead rope in his hands in case he broke. He didn’t need him to jump off in the murky, swirling water and drown. The piebald mare switched flies and took the opportunity to rest, standing hipshot.
Hands on her slim hips, Katy squinted at the outline of the taller brick buildings that made up downtown Fort Smith on the high bank they were headed for. She whistled as if impressed and shook her head. “Damn, this is a big place, ain’t it?”
“Big enough.”
“You think them two Hudson brothers’re hiding here?” She tossed her head in that direction.
“Damned if I know, but if they are, they better be wearing their Sunday best clothes.”
“Oh! That’s what they’ll be buried in, huh?”
“More than likely.” He had no special plans for planting them, but he’d like to nail their coffins down and send them directly to hell.
“Who was it they kilt?” She came over, hooked his arm, and stood on her toes for him to kiss her. When he finished, she winked wickedly at him.
“A friend of mine, Rip Wright. He was a good family man.”
“Was he a good guy?”
“Yes. He was married, had a wife and some young children, plus a ranch. They shot him in the back four times at a crossing on an isolated creek.”
“Nice guys, huh?”
He nodded. “They’ll be better off dead.”
They led their horses off the docked ferry barge. He boosted her onto hers and then he rode through the thick Garrison Avenue traffic ahead of her to find a livery stable for their animals. When the horses were stabled, they went through the mixed traffic of dirt farmers and well-dressed people on the boardwalk.
The desk clerk in the Palace Hotel curled his lip at the sight of Katy, then leaned over as Slocum filled out the register. “No Indian whores are allowed in this hotel. Bring her in the back door and use those stairs.”
Slocum put down the pen, grasped a fistful of the young man’s shirt, and jerked him off his feet and hard up against the counter. The color drained from the boy’s face as Slocum softly explained through his teeth, “That woman is my wife. If you don’t want your bag slit open and your leg shoved through it, I want an apology.”
“I—I—”
“Apology accepted.” He gave the boy a shove and he landed in a heap behind the counter on the floor, gasping for breath. Slocum went back to registering as Mr. and Mrs. John Howard. Then he held his hand out for a key. “I want a street front room.”
The clerk climbed to his feet and swallowed hard. With his shirt pulled out and his face beet red, he handed Slocum the key to room 210.
“Front window street view?” Slocum asked, looking at the key in his palm.
“Oh—yes, sir.”
Slocum nodded, picked up his war bag, and put his other arm protectively on Katy’s shoulder. “If Mrs. Howard needs anything and I’m gone, be certain she gets first-class service.”
“Oh, I will,” he said, adjusting his tie with another hard swallow.
On the stairs she asked in a soft voice, “Did he call me an Indian whore?”
“Yes. I had to adjust his attitude.”
She snickered. “I thought that’s what he said. Bet he don’t do that again.”
“I doubt he’s that dumb.”
The windows were open and the filmy curtains swayed in the soft wind. Everything looked in place in the room. He put his war bag down in the corner and took off his hat. Fort Smith’s heat wasn’t half bad in mid-May, but in August the temperature would cook eggs on the boardwalks.
Katy bounced her slender butt on the bed and made the springs squeak. “I haven’t ever done it on a bed like this. Don’t it get real noisy when you really get to going on these springs?”
“Take off your clothes, we’ll find out.”
She giggled. “I like you. You can take a hint and run plumb away with it.”
Unbuttoning her blouse, she jumped up and wrinkled her slender nose. “Besides, this is my first honeymoon, Mr. Howard. I hope that you’re pleased with me.”
Shirt off, she pushed her exposed breasts up with a hand under each one. “These ain’t simply there for looks either. They like your attention too.”
“I’ll try to remember that,” he said, standing there with his boots and shirt off.
She came over and hugged him. “You don’t forget much. I just wanted you to know I love being fondled by you.”
“What else do you like about doing it?” He removed his gun belt and re-latched the buckle to hang the rig on the ladder-back chair.
She wrinkled her nose. “I’m thinking.”
“What about?”
“This whole situation. You and me.”
“Simple enough. Two people looking for all the pleasure they can squeeze out of life.” He hugged her naked form against his, and she kissed his chest, reaching between them, fondling his pecker and balls. Then with a sly grin, she dropped to her knees and took his half-full erection in her hot mouth. Working it in and out soon had things well in control, and his reaction to the sensations going up his spine only spurred her to work harder on his dong.
In a short while, he lifted her up and set her on the edge of the bed. She leaned back, spread her slender knees wide apart, then scooted her small ass so it was barely on the edge of the bed for his entry. With gentle care, he pushed his throbbing rod inside her wet gates. She gave a deep sigh when he reached her tight ring and then pulled him down on top of her so he could pump the full length of it inside of her. The thrust of his butt drove his stake in and out of her in sewing-machine-like action.
A tornado swirled around them and soon perspiration greased their muscle-hard bellies as he fought to give her all he had. The tightness of her channel made him gasp for air and work even harder to bring her to a wild climax. They reversed positions. She scrambled up to let him lie on the bed, and she quickly straddled his huge phallus, inserted it, then bounced up and down like a jack-in-the-box on top of him. She slung her teardrop breasts back and forth as she worked on him, and even her face above him looked like a blur. In his intense drive he held back on his explosion inside her until she was leaned over, crying in his ear, “Yes—yes!”
